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stackofstories · 2 years

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Title: ????

4/???

The next morning before breakfast, Travis joined him on the bottom bunk. They sat together looking out the one window barely registering as the sky slowly changed colors. They would have to face the day soon, but Connor didn’t feel ready and it seemed neither did Travis.

“I can’t believe we lost!” Connor said and he buried his head into his hands. “It wasn’t a dream, right?”

Travis shook his head. “If only.”

“We never lose. Like ever. Like not even Luke, arguably the best of Dad, ever lost to us in poker.”

“I was there, Con.”

“The girls were there too. Silena promised she wouldn’t tell but Drew is the biggest gossip.”

“Katie is never going to let us live this down. She’s going to be annoying.” Travis pulled a face.

“How did the pipsqueak manage it? He was super good too. He actually won $50 and a five drachmas from us. Not to mention an actual bed. How did he manage to do that?”

Travis shrugged.

Connor groaned. He didn’t need a shrug. He needed answers. “I’ve been up all night thinking about it. Don’t you think it’s kinda strange? We don’t lose games.”

“Well. Annabeth, Malcolm, Wyn.”

“That’s different. Sudoku. Chess. Capture the flag. That’s strategy. Tactic. Luck. Athleticism. But games with money, persuasion… that’s us, that’s ours. But he’s not ours.”

Travis curled a piece of hair around his finger.

If Nico was theirs as in their brother Dad would have claimed him. Aside from the fact Nico didn’t share any of the physical traits of his brothers and sisters, Connor had seen enough determinations. Unlike most of the cabins here, Dad claimed his kids as soon as they stepped through the borders. Nico hadn’t gotten that. He wasn’t their brother, but he had Connor’s attention.

“The kid is a little weird,” Travis said.

Connor nodded. “That’s the understatement of the century.”

“And our reputations is in tatters for the foreseeable future.”

“Suddenly I’m not sure where you are going with this.”

“Let’s just take a few minutes to let it go though. The kid is like ten years old. So, he got one over on us.”

Connor didn’t understand why his brother was being so easygoing about this. People didn’t just get one over on them.

Travis jabbed him in the ribs. “Stop it.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

Travis eyed him in the way only he could. Like he could see him beyond the goo that made human and god, he saw him and Connor resisted the urge to shrink away.

“You are vicious and ridiculous and it still surprises me that Luke was the one to turn,” Travis said evenly. “I suppose you’ve never had the ambition.”

Connor smirked. “That’s good.”

Travis rolled his eyes. “Yeah for the rest of the world, but those, you come into contact with, I’m not so sure. The kid got one over on us. Let it go.”

“I’m not planning to get him back. He just has my attention.”

Travis frowned before he stood up with him. “Whatever. Let’s just get this day started.”

“Why do all the Hunters look like they’ve been proposed too?” Beckendorf asked as he strapped on his breast plate.

“Cuz, uh, they’re about to get wrecked.” Sherman Yang said with bloodthirsty grin. It might have been terrifying if his war paint was red instead of a bright pink. And it was clear he didn’t know much about the Hunters. Which made sense as he had been dropped off last summer and had never seen Hunters.

Beckendorf caught his eye and rolled his eyes before he nodded encouragingly at Sherman. “Must be, man.”

Connor noticed their strange behavior too. Yesterday the Hunters had been all smiles and laughs and today it was the complete opposite. Whatever it was, Connor hoped it aided them to victory. “How many times have we lost again?”

“Fifty five times,” Malcolm said grimly, fixing an arm cuff.

“Nico. Stop moving.”

Letting Nico drink Mountain Dew at dinnertime might not have been the smart decision. He bounced on the balls of his feet and moved his mouth a mile of minute as he pushed his helmet from his eyes a dozen times.

“We’re going to fight! And use swords! I’ve never held a real sword before.”

“I’ve never seen someone so excited over the possibility of maiming or death,” Connor said dryly.

Drew sauntered over. In her full armor plume and all. “How long have you been here?”

“One day!” Nico said. “I love it here.”

Drew laughed. “Where have they been hiding you? Con and Travie have been so cruel to keep you from us.”

“Stop teasing him before he turns red permanently,” Travis said. He finished plating the kid up in his protective armor with a final pat on his back.

“I’m not. He can spend time with us. Silena would just die over him!” Drew giggled. “He’s so cute I just wanna dress him up.”

Connor raised a single eyebrow. Drew wasn’t exactly a nice girl, but he knew her heart was melted over things like kittens and sweet fires and maybe just maybe naive little boys with anime eyes.

“Hey, I’m going to talk to Percy and show him my cool sword.” Nico darted from under them and he went straight to aqualad. His volume control clearly lacking. “If we die do we get to respawn?”

“Why?” Connor asked.

“He definitely needs to come and talk to us,” Drew said as she crossed her arms. She had a little smile on her lips.

“I feel like Percy is eternally screaming inside. He’s got the raised eyebrows. The thousand mile stare. Do you think Nico notices?”

“Nope.” Travis came to stand next to him. “Kid didn’t even say thank you. He just went straight to Percy.”

“I mean…” Drew trailed.

“What.”

“C’mon Drew. He’s a kid.”

Drew shrugged. “Percy isn’t all that and bag of chips but if I was rescued by Percy as a ten year old, I might start planning our wedding and how many kids we’re going to have.”

“Your Mom is Aphrodite and your hobby is playing M.A.S.H with the richest poorest sucker you can find.”

Drew grinned at him. Connor felt it telling she did not deny him.

Chiron stomped hard on the pavilion enough to sound like thunderstorms.

“Heroes!” he called. “You know the rules! The creek is the boundary line. Blue team—Camp Half-Blood—shall take the west woods. Hunters of Artemis–red team–shall take the east woods. I will serve as referee and battlefield medic. No intentional maiming, please! All magic items are allowed. To your positions.”

Thalia wasted no time. Between her and Percy they took up the leadership positions and Connor was just fine with them. “Blue team! Follow me!”

Beckendorf lead the rallying cry as they raced through the woods. He and his brother were some of the fastest campers, Travis being the fastest, but they fell behind and kept Nico in front of them. Connor remembered how armor felt when he was still new and rosy cheeked but Nico didn’t seem to care, or if he did, he wasn’t letting it slow him down.

He climbed up the Poop Pile–Zeus’s Fist—with surprising dexerity and volunteered to sit the flag in the correct position.

“Can I go scouting with you?” Nico squeaked and eyed Percy. “That’s what you’re doing right.”

Percy stared at them all wide-eyed and the rest of them team had the decency to laugh behind hands and buttoned lips. He rubbed the back of his neck stalling.

“Uh, yeah, but I have an even more important job for you.”

Nico nodded eagerly.

“Guard-duty. With the Travis and Connor and Beckendorf.” He swept an arm toward them. “I need you to guard the flag because uh, I trust you. To keep it safe for me.”

Connor audibly snorted and for the second time that day Travis jabbed him in the ribs.

“Really?” Nico asked.

“Really really.” Percy patted him on the shoulder before he gave him a little push in their direction.

Nico squeezed between him and Travis. He stood as tall as he could. Travis nudged him with a little smile. “Maybe you should have gone scouting with Percy. Your sister is a Hunter. You might give her the flag.”

“You make a good point, Connor,” Beckendorf said looking uneasy and Travis nodded in agreement despite the wrong name. “She is your older sister.”

“Maybe we should tell Percy to see if one the girls can stand guard with us instead…” Connor added.

Nico gaped. “No! I can do it!” he vibrated with purpose. “If Bianca comes I won’t give her the flag. Not even if she begs!”

“If you say so,” Connor prodded.

“I do say so. I promise!” Nico said. “I always keep my promises. No one is getting our flag.”

Connor nodded affirmatively. “Okay. We just want to make sure.”

Thalia and Percy shouted some orders. Everybody nodded and broke off into smaller groups.

Silena darted to the left with her team while Thalia went right with her scouts. Percy prowled the area climbing onto higher rocks. Connor wondered why Percy didn’t go with Thalia, he didn’t belong in defense. Not because he wasn’t good but he was so obviously an action guy; he lacked the patience.

Case in point: “Can you hold the fort?” Percy threw over his shoulder at Beckendorf.

He heard a response and raced off. Nico cheered and they followed behind more quietly.

“Our best fighter,” Beckendorf said when Percy was gone.

“We’re doomed,” Travis said.

“Totally.”

“Way too sound positive boys,” a Hunter came from the shadows. She shot her bow with pin point accuracy to above their heads. Dense smoke spewed out.

It didn’t smell like sulfur, it wasn’t making their face break out and Connor had superior vision curtsy of his father. His confidence shot quick only to be shot down cruelly when the Hunters went forward in the smoke. Attacking with their hunting knives.

Connor raised his shield up blocking the attacks and pushing forward. He had to give it to the Hunters. They knew how to fight, he almost got neck sliced open in the few half seconds he managed to protect himself.

He fell deeper into the woods. With one hard grunt and all his strength and he tackled the girl, she sprawled into the ground with dazed ugh.

“Hey!” Nico screamed.

Connor rose. He made it half a step before the big beefy Hunter girl rose from the dead and clubbed him hard on the head enough. His ears rang and he was down for the count.

He felt two thuds on his helmet. He ate snow and laid there until Chiron came to him. He saw double of his brother on his broad back.

“They got you too,” Connor said to Travis.

“Shut up.”

“We lost…” and whatever else he was going to say was lost in the swirl of yelling. The air felt charged like before a thunderstorm. Connor knew it was Percy and Thalia.

“We’re missing all the fireworks,” Connor said.

Chiron must have heard them. He galloped first. “Just like their fathers. This is why I ignore the family invites.”

There was a lot of yelling, but that all went out the door when the world got quiet. Connor’s head still thumped something fierce, Travis gasped.

“What.”

“It’s the Oracle, dude. She’s here.”

“Nice try.”

“I’m not kidding, dude.”

“She’s like a gajillion years old and she’s dead. Like calcified.”

“Hey, I realize this sounds insane but she’s out here. Walking. Not talking.”

“This is impossible,” Chiron said. “This has never happened. Never.”

Connor’s vision became a little clearer with the admission. He swallowed. Below him was a sea of sickly green mist covering snow.

“I am the spirit of Delphi,” the voice scratched in his mind like nails on a chalkboard. “Speaker of the prophecies Phoebus Apollo slayer of the mighty Python.”

Approach seeker and ask.

Whoever she spoke to must have been a Hunter. In the swirling sea of green mist the eddies twisted together into one clear but terrifying picture. On a barren mountain there was a girl. Artemis. She was wrapped in chains and in pain.

Five shall go west to the goddess in chains, One shall be lost in the land without rain, The bane of Olympus shows the trail, Campers and Hunters combined prevail, The Titan's curse must one withstand,

And one shall perish by a parent's hand.

Another prophecy. People were going to die. But not his people.

Connor nearly passed out in relief.

#emptying drafts #ignore me #connor stoll #Travis Stoll #so in this one i explore kinda where I want Connor’s personality to be #like he doesn’t care if you aren’t Travis #bby nico with his crush on Percy #drew tanaka #Stollico #nico x the stolls #Nico di Angelo #but this is the unpolished version #gaaaahhh I just a Stollico fic #pjo #Percy jackson

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ptergwen · 3 years

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favorite crime

w/c: 1.6k

warnings: swearing, mentions of blood / death, lots n lots of angst

summary: you convince peter to go on the run after he’s framed for murdering mysterio, but he doesn’t want to drag you into his mess

a/n: this was completely based off the song by olivia lfmbsjfhs it’s so beautiful and i’ve wanted to write something for it for a while now so yee i hope y’all like ! pls lmk what you think <3

“we have to get you out of here, peter! come on!” you shout back to your boyfriend and tug his hand that’s laced with yours.

peter doesn’t budge. even when your grip on him tightens, when you pull him forward with all your might, he remains stoic.

there’s something he needs to do, and he’s been contemplating it since the day he met you.

it’s time to let you go.

“please, peter. i’m begging. i know you’re tired of running, but if we don’t leave now… they’ll find you,” you desperately choke out. peter squeezes his eyes shut, dreading what’s to come. “i can’t do this to you anymore, y/n. i… i’m sorry.”

emergency sirens and flashing lights approach the old apartment building serving as yours and peter’s latest hideout. the whole world is on the lookout for him, so you two stowed yourselves away in brooklyn for a bit.

you were hopeful the rumors would pass eventually — about how peter shot the beloved mysterio and left him to die in cold blood. they’re merely talk, of course. you’d personally seen the events of that day unfold on the tower bridge. hell, your class was right at the center of them.

quentin beck was pure evil, so rotten he defamed both peter and spider-man with a charge as cruel as murder. he’s wreaking havoc on him from beyond the grave, over a complete misunderstanding that peter had nothing to do with.

beck’s true source of anger is stark industries. yet, once again, peter ended up the collateral damage.

he was deemed a wanted murderer. posters revealing his name and face were plastered up around the city, a reward even being offered to whoever who turns him in.

you’d proposed the idea of skipping town until things settled. the way you saw it, it was peter’s only option other than prison for twenty-five to life. peter was panicking and couldn’t think straight, so he went along with your getaway plan.

a few weeks later, he’s regretting it.

you’ve been the one person he could trust through this madness. you’re right there to console him, to protect him just like he does you. through sickness and health, life and clearly death, you stick by peter’s side. you left everything behind without a second thought, for him.

peter loves you more than you’ll ever fully be able to comprehend, which is why he can’t ask you to do that. this is his battle to fight, not yours or anyone else’s. his.

you suddenly freeze in your tracks, turning around to look at peter. “what are you talking about? you’re fine, pete.”

his eyes roam everywhere except to yours as they water. blinking back tears, he fixes his gaze on your intertwined hands. you notice a stray tear fall down his cheek and use one of your thumbs to wipe it away, then press a reassuring kiss to his lips. peter lets himself reciprocate momentarily before jerking back.

“please just… stop being so nice to me. you’re making this way harder than i wanted to to be,” he rasps and squeezes your hand tighter. you’re still lost, absolutely clueless about what he’s referring to.

“look, pete. i wanna hear you out, baby. but… i think it should wait until we get to jersey.” you keep your voice as calm as possible, though you’re terrified for both of you. since the feds know your location, they’ll have the place surrounded any minute.

hopping cities isn’t cutting it anymore, so you’ll have to change states this time. new jersey is next on your list.

using his strength to his advantage to hold you in place, peter seizes both your shoulders. his bloodshot eyes lock with yours. a stern expression coats his features, one you’ve seen from him yet never been on the receiving end of.

“we’re not going to jersey, y/n/n,” he declares, the sirens starting to grow louder. you feel a pit forming in your stomach. “we have to!” you immediately protest. “it’s not gonna be easy finding our way, but it’s the last-“

peter cuts you off, voice softer now. “no, no. that’s not what i meant.” he waits a beat and inhales a deep breath, aiming to settle his nerves. it doesn’t.

“i’m going to jersey. you’re staying.”

tears cloud your vision the second those words leave his mouth. you shake your head furiously back and forth, willing him to take them back.

part of you was always afraid peter would get second thoughts. not only about running away with you, about ever being with you. you’re both so young. your entire lives are ahead of you, and peter won’t allow you to risk your own because this isn’t worth a single bit of it.

he’d warned you how dangerous it was to be associated with spider-man. it’s why he held off on telling you about his alias for the longest he could. you naturally began asking questions whenever peter bailed on dates and showed up to school covered in bruises. he hated lying to you, using his stark internship as an excuse, so he finally came out and said it.

peter sometimes wonders if you’d be better off not knowing at all. it’s too late now, though.

“wait, what? why- why can’t i go with you?” you plead, peter’s fingers coming up to cup your cheek. his fingertips lightly caress your skin. “i’m a criminal, y/n. you’d be my accessory.”

it takes everything in him not to break down and sob along with you.

you lean into his palm, already missing his touch. “i don’t care... i don’t give a fuck. i just wanna be with you, peter.” peter literally has to bite his tongue to fight the urge to cry. hands grabbing either side of his head, your fingers twist in his hair roughly. “i’ll do anything, pete. i really will, i swear. name it.”

peter threads his own fingers through yours again, bringing your hands to his chest.

“i’m so sorry, angel. i never should’ve gotten you involved,” he murmurs out and pecks your forehead. “you have nothing to prove to me, okay? you’ve done more than enough. i’m gonna return the favor.”

you let out a strangled whine, your knees buckling as you come to terms with the gravity of your situation.

this is it. this is the end of yours and peter’s story.

“hey, none of that. it’s okay,” peter coos, neither of you convinced. the tastes of salt and metal flood both your senses. he helps you back up and hugs your waist, peppering your cheeks in more kisses. you’re bawling now, arms wound around his neck, clutching at his tattered jacket.

free tears escape peter’s eyes at last. “i love you. i love you so goddamn much, y/n. never forget it,” he nearly whispers. you sniffle and push your forehead against his. “i’m not saying it back ‘cuz that feels like a goodbye, and i- i can’t say goodbye to you yet.”

“it’s not a goodbye,” peter reassures you, rubbing circles on your lower back. “it’s, uh, it’s a see you later. i’m gonna figure something out and be back to you before you know it. can’t get rid of me that easy.”

that earns a faint giggle from you, peter managing a grin. you two attempt to ignore everything happening beyond these walls, only focusing on the other.

“then, um…” you clear your throat. “i love you.” his smile dwindling slightly, peter nods and meets your gaze. “i love you too, baby. you should probably get going soon.”

affirming his advice, a booming voice that sounds from a microphone commands peter to come out with his hands up.

your worry spikes, instinctively drawing peter in closer. he forces himself to put on a brave face for you.

“i’m scared, pete. where… where am i supposed to go?” you rush to ask him. “home, y/n/n. go home,” peter decides, pressing a final kiss to the top of your head. “just don’t get caught, and you’ll be fine.” carding your fingers in his undone curls, you sigh. “easier said than done, but i’ll try not to.”

you’d never pictured that the sweet boy with a heart too big and brain even bigger, who sings you to sleep even though his voice sucks and spends his last dollar buying you flowers, would be accused of first degree murder. it isn’t true or fucking fair.

what’s worse, he has to bare this storm alone now.

you lift your heavy backpack off the cold ground, slinging it onto your shoulders. peter stares out the window and down at the assembly of swarm troops crowded together.

“are you gonna be okay?” you catch his attention. he snaps back into reality, pulling your hood up so it covers your head. you’re wearing a sweatshirt of his, after having gone through all your own clothes. “i hope so. are you?” peter repeats your question. “i hope so,” you echo.

tying your hoodie strings tight, peter offers a smile. “say hi to may for me. ned and mj, too.” it’s going to be tough to face his family and friends after this. “i will. i’ll let them know you’re alright.” you kiss his cheek, placing a hand on his chest. peter lets your touch distract him from the mess he’s about to be hit with.

“thank you, y/n. i’ll see you soon, baby. you have my word,” he promises, stepping back so you two can go your separate ways.

you watch him with fresh tears threatening to spill.

“i’m gonna hold you to it. be safe, spidey.”

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triplexdoublex · 3 years

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I’ll Try Anything At Least Once

Pairings: Colson x Reader

Warnings/Tags: Watersports/piss kink/wetting , omorashi/desperation, biting, praise kink

A/N: Here have another one of my older reworked fics while I finish up the other 3 fics i have going right now. I promise the next one will be brand new.

“Baby, you’ve barely touched your water,” Colson says from where he sits across from you at the table of your favorite casual restaurant, located in your local mall. You’re there celebrating your two-year anniversary.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right, it’s just that this steak is so damn good,” you say as you reach for your water glass. Colson watches intently as you take a large gulp, almost finishing the whole glass. “Guess, I was thirsty,” you laugh. “The food’s delicious, but it’s definitely salty.”

“Aye, after dinner, I was thinking we could go get you some new lingerie and I, uh… I kinda wanna try something new tonight.” He smiles as he refills your water glass from the small, glass pitcher on the table.

“Ooooh, like what?” you smirk. “You know I’ll try anything at least once.”

“You’ll see,” he teases. “Now drink up.”

You’re not sure what his current obsession with your water intake is, but you drink nonetheless. By the time the waitress returns to see if you would like dessert, you’ve finished your second glass. Colson immediately refills it as you look over the dessert menus.

“Colson, what the hell is up with you and the water tonight?” you ask, perplexed by this odd behavior. “For God’s sake, I’m about to piss myself.”

He digs his teeth into his bottom lip, his blonde eyelashes fluttering closed briefly at your words.

“Maybe that’s the point,” he speaks, his voice low and lust-filled.

“Colson, you can’t be serious,” you practically laugh, taken aback.

“I am,” he admits with blushing cheeks, “but if you’re not into it, just forget I said anything, alright?” he states, sounding slightly defensive.

“Hey… no, look, I’m sorry,” you apologize as you reach out to stroke his arm. “You just took me by surprise, that’s all. I meant what I said earlier; I’ll really try anything at least once.” You smile apologetically and can’t help but to be intrigued by his kink.

You decide to forego dessert and make your way to the lingerie store where Colson picks out a simple, yet sexy, silky, white bra and panty set with lace detail.

“These are gonna look so good on you when they’re all soaked and clinging to your pussy,” he whispers seductively in your ear from behind you, placing them in your hand. You never thought you’d be into this kind of thing, and maybe it’s just the lust in Colson’s voice or the three cups of water weighing heavy in your bladder right now, but something deep in your pelvis stirs at his words.

Colson stays close behind you as you head to the cashier. The line is long, as it always is when the holidays are near, and the need to use the bathroom is getting stronger with each passing minute. Shifting your weight from one foot to the other, you sway your hips in desperation, trying to resist the urge to physically hold yourself in public. Suddenly you feel Colson’s hand on your hips, stilling their movements.

“Baby, you’re killing me right now,” he says softly, digging his chin into your shoulder from behind you. “Feel what your little dance is doing to me?” he breathes in your ear, discreetly pressing his clothed erection against your backside.

“Colson!” you warn, reaching for the various lotions and body sprays that line checkout area, smelling them to distract yourself and ultimately picking out a few to purchase.

When it’s finally your turn to check out, you place your items down and brace yourself with your hands on the counter, crossing your legs at the ankles and squeezing your thighs together, effectively holding back the stream threatening to run down your legs.

After the transaction is complete, Colson takes the bag, strategically carrying it in front of himself. “Let’s head to the bathroom,” he suggests as you exit the store, heading back into the mall.

You’ve never felt more relieved to hear those words, but the feeling is short lived. Once inside the single stall family restroom, you begin frantically pulling down your panties as you make your way to the toilet, but Colson stops you.

“Unh-uh, that’s not what we’re here for,” he teases with a smirk, stepping between you and your destination, palm pressed against your shoulder.

“Colson, please!” you plead, clutching at your bare crotch, panties halfway down your thighs.

“No,” he answers sternly, “but feel free to keep begging. I love how needy and desperate you sound,” he says huskily. “You’re doing so good for me, baby.”

“Then why are we here?” you groan, beginning to pull your panties back up.

“Aye, not so fast,” Colson places his hand on the crotch of your panties, stopping you from pulling them back up. “Baby, these are all wet,” he says, caught off guard by his accidental findings. “It better not be…” he pauses, trailing his hand up your inner thigh and discovering your slick folds. “Mmmmm, good girl. You like holding yourself for me, don’t you?” he teases, bringing his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean.

“Maybe,” you smirk with blushing cheeks, unable to tell where the pressure of your full bladder stops and the pooling sexual desire in your abdomen begins, the two sensations mingling as one. Colson smiles, reaching into the pink striped bag of your purchases and pulling out the matching bra and panty set he bought you.

“Here put these on,” he says, tossing them to you. “That’s why I brought you in here.”

“Now?” you question. “Why don’t we just wait until we get home?”

“Cuz when we get home, I just wanna take them off you… after you wet them for me, that is.”

You do as you’re told, stripping out of your current undergarments and replacing them with the new ones as Colson watches intently, resting against the wall.

“You should help me with this while we’re in here too,” he teases, cupping his obvious erection, showing off the large outline through his jeans.

You squat down in front of him, not wanting to kneel on the public restroom floor, the positioning making you all the more desperate for relief. Colson unzips his jeans and you tug them down to mid-thigh, followed by his boxers, his bare ass pressed against the cold tile wall.

With one hand on the back of your head and the other grasping his length, he guides himself into your mouth. You bob over his length half-assed and sloppily, too focused on clenching your muscles trying not to pee. Colson notices your lack of skill at the moment, taking over and pumping himself, but he doesn’t mind. The sight of you squatting and squirming, hand pressed firmly to your core is enough to bring him close to the edge.

Assisting the best you can, you lick and suck on the head of Colson’s length as he strokes himself, occasionally slapping the tip against your tongue. The fullness of your bladder is becoming close to unbearable, and you let out a muffled, high-pitched whine as a strong urge to release washes over you, causing you to clutch yourself with both hands. The sound and sight is enough to send Colson over the edge.

“F-fuck, I’m gonna c-cum,” he chokes out in a barely audible, throaty moan as he guides his length to the back of your tongue, spilling down your throat. You do your best to swallow every drop, running the tip of your tongue over his slit, making him shudder before pulling him from your mouth completely.

“Listen, I’m all for pissing myself for you baby, really I am, but I’d rather it not happen by accident in public, so if we could head home now, that would be great,” you practically beg as you throw your dress back on.

“Oh, you’re no fun.,” he teases, doing a slight jump to get his skinny jeans back up over his ass and zipping them.

“Colson, please!” you plead, bouncing in desperation.

“Kidding, kidding,” he laughs. “Let’s go before you make me hard again.”

***********************************

“Are you doing that on purpose?” you ask, ripping your seatbelt off on the way home.

“Doin’ what?” he asks, feigning innocence.

“Hitting every damn pothole so my seatbelt squeezes my bladder!”

“Maybe,” he laughs, “But come on, baby, put your seatbelt back on. I’ll stop. I don’t want anything to happen to you,” he says seriously, reaching across your body to grab the belt, one hand on the steering wheel.

“Fine,” you answer, taking the belt from his hand and buckling yourself back in, all while giving Colson a warning eye.

He keeps his word but the ride seems to last forever, and you don’t know how much longer you can hold it. You spend the rest of the drive with your hands squeezed tightly between your shaking legs, and your head leaned back on the headrest with eyes clenched tight.

“Baby, we’re home,” Colson says, lightly grazing his hand over your lower abdomen, breaking you from your concentration. You moan at his touch, the light pressure causing you to feel like you’re about to piss or cum, you can’t distinguish which. Colson helps you out of the car and into the house.

“Baby please, I can’t hold it any longer,” you beg the second you’re through the front door.

“Fine,” Colson says, quickly pulling your black dress up and over your head, tossing it to the floor and throwing your lingerie clad body over his shoulder.

“Colson!” you shriek, the pressure from his shoulder against your bladder forcing a trickle to run down his chest and darken a large spot on his heathered grey shirt.

“Mmmm, baby,” Colson moans at the warm sensation. “Come on, we’re almost there, you can hold it. You’re doing so good,” he praises, as he carries you up the stairs. You’re not exactly sure what his plan is, but you assumed whatever he had planned for this would take place in the bathroom, so you’re more than surprised when he carries you to the bedroom and tosses you down on the sheets of your unmade bed.

“Colson, I told you I can’t hold it anymore,” you plead, laying on your back with your knees tightly pressed together.

“I know… go,” he smirks, palming himself through his jeans.

“Here?! b-but the bed…” you exclaim, sitting up suddenly, grabbing at the sheets on either side of you.

“Don’t worry about the bed baby, we got one of those mattress protectors when we bought the mattress and I’ll take care of the sheets myself,” he promises. “Now, come on baby, wet for me,” he begs, as he pushes your panties to the side, inserting two fingers.

“Colson, fuck,” you whimper as his fingers curls upwards inside of you, forcing small spurts of urine out.

“Come on, more baby, let it all go,” he says, pulling his fingers from you, licking the wetness that’s gathered on them as he pulls his length from his jeans with his free hand and begins pumping himself.

You close your eyes and relax your bladder expecting a large gush, but only an agonizingly slow stream starts to flow due to the pressure in your overfull bladder. Colson strokes himself, watching and praising you with half-lidded eyes as what’s left of the dry spots on your white panties turn wet and translucent, clinging to the contours of your folds.

After a few moments, the pressure lessens and the flow picks up into a gush, flowing through the white fabric of your panties in a stream, soaking the bed around you. The relief is almost orgasmic, causing you to moan and whimper as your bladder finishes emptying.

“Fuck, that’s so hot. So good for me baby,” Colson praises when you finish, his eyes glazed over by lust in a way you’ve never seen them before.

He turns you over onto your hands and knees, moaning as he runs his hands over the wet fabric, admiring how they cling to your backside before pushing them to the side and entering you quickly. Guttural moans of your name form in his throat as he harshly grips your hips, slamming into you at a relentless pace. The wetness of your panties transfers to the skin of his pelvis with every thrust. He takes notice, gliding his hand over the moisture on his skin.

“Oh, shit!” he cries out, driven insane with pleasure at the feeling and picking up the pace, fucking you harder than he ever has in the two years you’ve been together.

“Yeah, baby, just like that. Fuck me, fuck, me!” you chant, loving his new-found intensity. He continues thrusting at a fast pace, sounds of colliding wet skin echoing throughout the room.

“Oh God, Colson, fuck,” you cry out, gripping the sheets as orgasm nears.

Leaning over your back, Colson reaches around to your clit, rubbing fast-paced circles through your soaked panties. Kissing roughly along the width of your shoulders, he sinks his perfect teeth into the crook of your neck, hard enough to leave marks as he cums. You bounce back on his length as he rides out his orgasm with slow, hard thrusts, achieving your climax moments later which jolts through you like lightning.

“Oh fuck!” you scream as your arms weaken, your face sinking into the pillow.

Colson sings your praises of how amazing you did for him as he peppers your back with gentle kisses before pulling out. You roll to the dry side of the bed and Colson collapses on top of you, the both of you out of breath.

“Oh God, baby, thank you.” Colson expresses his gratitude as he kisses your neck. “You have no idea how much that got me going.”

“Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea.” you tease. “Let’s just say we will definitely be doing this again.

#mgk #mgk fanfic #mgk smut #mgk x reader #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly fanfic #machine gun kelly smut #machine gun kelly x reader #colson baker #colson baker reader #colson baker smut #colson baker fanfic

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calpalirwin · 3 years

Text

Numbers

Summary: Sebastian doesn’t want to be another number to you, but little does he know he’s the only one.

A/N: Everyone say thank you to @jessalyn-jpeg for always being willing to cry over this man with me.

Important distinction: Italics represent his thoughts, while bold italics represent hers

Word Count: 3.2k

And away, and away we go!

The sun was high and warm, and the sounds of wood cracking against leather grew louder as Y/N walked towards the baseball fields. “Yo, Number 1, lookin’ good!” she whistled, her fingers wrapping themselves in the chain link fence surrounding the field.

There was a loud laugh from the man playing shortstop, and he turned to either flip her off or stick out his tongue, but a baseball came flying in his direction, high and powerful. But not high enough. Almost lazily, Sebastian lifted his heels off the dirt, raising his left hand in the air, the ball coming to a stop in his glove.

“Right field, get ready!” Anthony, the pitcher shouted. “Stan’s lucky charm showed up!”

“I don’t need luck, Mackie,” Sebastian taunted, pulling at the sleeves of his jersey. “I’m Number 1 for a reason. Best shortstop in the state, right here, baby!”

“Mackie! Stan!” the coach barked in warning.

“Sorry!” both men laughed. And with his brief pause, Sebastian took off his hat, waving it at Y/N in greeting as she took a seat in the stands, before putting it back over his sweaty locks of brown hair.

As the practice continued, more girls made their way out to watch the team, and Y/N couldn’t blame them. Something about a guy’s ass in baseball pants, especially when that ass belonged to Sebastian Stan. And the college baseball team didn’t have any complaints about the attention they gathered, plays becoming more dramatic than they needed to be as a chance to show off, until the coaches finally called it quits.

“So,” Anthony asked Sebastian as they headed for the dugout. “Is today the day you ask out Y/N finally? Or should I try to shoot my shot? Like what's going on here, man? Cuz whatever it is between you, it’s gone on way too long, and I only got so much patience.”

Sebastian wasn’t sure how his face could grow warmer after being in the sun practicing for two hours, but it did. “I- We’re friends, ya know? And it’s not that I don’t wanna ask her out. It’s that I don’t know how. Or how she’ll react. It’s… a whole thing, ya get me?”

“Dude…” Anthony shook his head. “I say this because I care. But if you’re gonna make a move, make it fast. No one wants to be the one to cross you when we all know you got a thing for her. But if you’re not gonna shoot your shot…”

“Thanks…” Sebastian said, not sure if he appreciated the obvious advice or not. He knew he needed to ask Y/N sooner rather than later. But the idea that his teammates were lying in wait for him to either make a move, or step aside stirred up feelings of jealousy. But the only way of making sure they didn’t date her… He slung his bag over his shoulder, before squaring them and strutting out of the dugout, headed straight for Y/N. “Now or never, Stan,” he whispered to himself.

“Seb!” a girl called out and he turned to the sound, putting a smile on his face.

“Hey.” He offered a small wave, his eyes spotting Y/N, and kept walking, but then more girls were calling his name, batting their eyelashes, and touching his arm as they asked questions, and somehow Y/N got lost in the shuffle.

Y/N watched from her spot, the smile on her face dropping as she watched Sebastian get swarmed by girls who only wanted his attention so they could later brag to their friends that they’d gotten to talk to the star of the baseball team. And Sebastian wasn’t the type to be rude, even when he should.

Sighing, she shouldered her bag, heading down the bleachers, figuring she’d she go rescue him from his oh-so terrible prison of adoring girls.

“Hey, Y/N,” a shy voice called out as her feet hit concrete.

She lifted her gaze to find one of the newer players smiling at her. “Oh, hey, Tom,” she smiled back at him. “Good practice out there.”

“Heh, thanks,” he mumbled, his cleat digging into the ground. “So… you waiting for Seb?”

“I was yeah,” she admitted, looking over at Sebastian who was still under siege. And then a swell of anger bubbled inside her. If he couldn’t be bothered to pull himself away from them for her, then she didn’t have to wait for him. “But I’ll just catch him later. So, what’s up?”

Tom blinked in surprise. “Uh… I… Not much really. Was gonna head back to my dorm. Ya know, normal stuff I guess.”

“Well c’mon, I’m headed that way myself, I’ll walk with ya.”

Tom brightened as someone whistled from behind. “Damn! Kid’s got moves!” Anthony’s voice called out loudly. He jogged a few steps to join the couple, “Yo, Y/N, what about Seb?”

Y/N looked over her shoulder at Sebastian who still wasn’t even looking her way. “What about him?”

~~~

She mumbled airplane sounds under her breath, twisting her wrist to make the paper airplane fly around, before she really sent it flying across the living room. She watched as it glided through the air before nose-diving into the carpet as the front door opened.

“Apology food?” Sebastian asked with a hopeful smile, holding up a bag of takeout as he kicked the door shut.

“And what’s the apology for?” she asked, rising to her feet and crossing her arms.

“For being a dick after practice.”

“Chinese?”

“Your favorite,” he said, handing her the bag.

“Fine. Your transgressions against the crown are forgiven. This time.”

He tilted his head back as he laughed. “Thank you, your Highness. Although a little birdie told me that you ended up alright. Holland, huh?”

“Mackie is worse than girls with gossip, I swear…” Y/N said with an eye roll. “But yeah, Holland and I talked.”

“You know he’s a freshman, right?”

“Aw, is somebody jealous?” She flashed him a sardonic smile as they both plopped down on the couch and dug into the food.

Sebastian let out a scoff. “Me? Jealous of Holland? Pfft, yeah right.” Yes, insanely jealous, actually.

“Oh, so if I said he walked me all the way to the apartment, that wouldn’t make you mad?”

“You’re not my girlfriend, Y/N,” he said around a swallow of food. Despite how much I wish you were. “If you wanna make baby Holland feel like a man for escorting you home, I really don’t give a shit. But you can do better than a freshman.” Like me.

Like you? “And you’d smell better with a shower,” was her retort as she knocked her shoulder into his.

“Mmm, you gonna join me?”

“Pfft! In your dreams, maybe.” And in mine.

Only in my dreams cuz once again, I fucked up.

~~~

Y/N figured one date would be enough to stir Sebastian into action. But one, the man had already made himself scarce by the time she left for her date. And two, the date sucked.

You’re not Sebastian was all she could think about throughout the dinner of cheesy one-liners, and bad jokes that bordered on offensive.

“So…” he asked suggestively as they walked out. “Wanna head back to my place?”

“No, I’m kinda tired,” she declined politely.

“Oh… well then I’ll call you sometime and we can do this again, maybe?”

“Yeah… no,” she said, shaking her head. “This was… nice. But no. You and I? Not gonna happen.”

“Right… I forgot you’re friends with Stan.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Oh, c’mon. Dude obviously likes you. And he’s not the one anyone wants to have on their bad side.”

“Then why did you ask me out? If all of you are so scared of Seb?”

“Cuz you’re hot, and I’m not on the baseball team,” he shrugged.

“Yeah… I’m gonna go home now. And you… ugh… yeah, no. Not gonna happen.”

~~~

Sebastian turned his head as the door opened. “Back before curfew, huh? Whatta gentleman.”

“Fuck you,” she told him with a roll of her eyes before stalking off towards her bedroom.

“Whoa, whoa, wait,” he said, bolting up off the couch. “C’mon, what happened?”

He wasn’t you. “He’s a pig. Said all the wrong things.”

“That sucks. But hey, can’t all be winners, right?”

“I guess… Although he did say one thing that was somewhat interesting.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Apparently you scare people off from asking me out.”

He snorted. “That’s fuckin’ stupid. Will I be pissed if some jackoff makes you feel like shit? Yeah, and I’ll probably say something. But shit… I’m not your boyfriend, or your dad, or some shit. Sounds like a lame cop-out because they just don’t wanna admit they’re pussies.”

And what’s your lame cop-out? “Ugh… I need a drink.”

“Grab me one, yeah?” he asked, sinking back down into the couch as she changed directions to head into the kitchen instead.

“So, how was your night?” she asked, grabbing two beers from the fridge.

“Uneventful,” he shrugged. “There was a girl I was hoping to go out with, but it didn’t work.”

“Aw damn. That sucks,” she said, as she joined him on the couch and handed him one of the beers.

“Eh, it was my fault for not asking sooner,” he shrugged again, clinking his beer against hers. “To shitty nights.”

“Here, here,” Y/N cheered half-heartedly as they both took a long drink. “Fuck it. Paper airplane contest?”

He snorted into his beer. “We’re not seven anymore.”

“Aw, afraid you’ll lose?”

He sat up straighter. “Loser buys next case of beer?”

“You better get your wallet out, now.”

~~~

Sebastian knew he should have taken his chance after that first date gone bad. And Y/N knew she should have pushed him harder in her confrontation. But for whatever reason, the friends stayed at their stubborn stalemate.

Without Sebastian willing to make a move, Y/N began to wonder if maybe everyone had it all wrong. Maybe Sebastian was simply protective of her without having an ulterior motive behind it. So, she continued to go on dates with other guys on campus to ease the ache, until she couldn’t pretend they weren’t Sebastian anymore.

For his part, Sebastian not only took careful notes of the reasons Y/N gave for each of her short-lived romances, he also stupidly pointed her in the direction of new interests. And then he tried not to drown in his jealousy, before learning to grow doubtful of wanting a romantic relationship with her at all. Why would he want to sacrifice a lifelong friendship just to become another nameless guy she tossed to the side once she had her fun with him?

~~~

“Sebastian!” she gasped at him when he came home one night as she nursed away the end of yet another short-lived romance that wasn’t him.

“You’re drunk,” was the observation as he dropped his duffle bag to the floor.

“Ooooohhhh yeah,” she giggled at him with a wide grin, eyes hazy. “You gonna join me?”

“So we can both be sick? Yeah… Not a chance.”

“Boo…” she pouted. “You never wanna do anything with me.”

“One night. One night I don’t wanna drink with you, and that equates to me not wanting to do anything with you ever? Make it make sense, Y/N.”

“Well, you don’t wanna date me, that’s for sure,” was the drunk scoff.

He balked. “When did I ever say that?”

“Well it’s true, isn’t it? Everyone keeps saying that you like me, but you don’t do anything about it. Are they all lying? Or are you?”

He shook his head. “I’m not doing this. I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“Why not?!”

“Because you’re drunk off your ass!”

“Just answer the question!”

“I don’t know!”

“What type of bullshit answer is that?! How do you not know if you wanna date someone?!”

“It’s the answer you give when you used to think you wanted to, but now you’re not sure anymore! Now… I gave you my answer. And I already told you once I’m not having this conversation. Not when you’re drunk. I’m going to bed. G’night Y/N.”

“COWARD!” she hurled the insult at his retreating back.

In his room, Sebastian didn’t sleep. He lay in bed watching his ceiling fan spin in slow hypnotic circles, cursing himself for letting it get this bad. If he had just asked her out after that one practice… If he could just rewind the clock…

In the living room, Y/N sobbed into her hands. The distractions never worked, even the promising ones. And Sebastian… If it turned out he didn’t want her…

Thoughts spiraled and time ticked by, Y/N growing more sober, and Sebastian more angry with himself.

“Seb?” she asked in a small whisper, knocking lightly on his door as she pushed it open, finding him still awake in bed, the little lamp on his nightstand illuminating the room.

“What do you want, Y/N?” he asked, more harshly than he meant to, as he pushed himself to sit up against his headboard.

“I- Nevermind… It’s stupid…”

“No, wait,” he called out to her as she turned to leave. “I didn’t mean it like that. I- What’s up? What did you wanna ask?”

She took a slow breath to steady herself as she turned back around to face him. “Do you like me? God, that sounds so juvenile…”

“Of course I like you, Y/N. You’re my best friend.”

“But you don’t like me enough to date me. Just enough to be protective about me dating anyone else.”

He sighed. Now, or never. “It’s not that I don’t wanna date you, Y/N. It’s that I’m scared to.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“To you, maybe. But to me, it’s perfectly valid.”

“How? How is that a valid reason? Sebastian Stan, scared of dating a girl? A girl who he’s known his whole life? Make it make sense.”

“You think I wanna be one of the guys you date? Maybe if you actually dated people, I wouldn’t have ever thought twice about dating you myself. But you don’t date, Y/N. You… God, I dunno what it is you do, but it’s not dating.”

“Fuck you,” she spat, feeling tears well up. “Fuck you! You don’t get to slut-shame me!”

“Slut-shame you?! How is it slut-shaming that I don’t wanna be another number to you?! That I don’t wanna be another source of entertainment for you until you get bored of me?!”

“Because you’re not a number, Sebastian!”

“Bullshit I’m not! You literally call me Number 1! You don’t love Y/N! You… you entertain yourself until someone better comes along!”

“That’s not true…” she whispered, heartbroken that he thought it was.

“It was for all the other guys! I don’t wanna be like them, Y/N! I don’t wanna be some random number to you! I wanna be the one! I don’t know how much clearer I can make that.”

“You know I only dated them to make you jealous, right?”

“Well congrats… you win. I’m insanely jealous of every guy that you parade through that goddamn door.” His mouth twisted and his vision started to swim.

“I didn’t wanna win, Seb. I wanted you.”

He hissed through his teeth. “Past tense… that, uh… Yeah, that hurts. Thanks for that… For this…” he twirled his finger about the room. “Awesome conversation. Glad we could have this talk.”

“You wanna know why it never worked with those guys?!” she yelled at him, her hands flying up in the air. “They weren’t you! God, I tried so hard to make it work with those guys! Any of them! But none of them made me feel the way you do. None of them get me the way you do. And… God! I wish they did! I wish at least one of them did, because then I could finally stop wasting my time on you when it’s obvious you don’t feel the same way about me!”

“I don’t feel the same?!” He grabbed a small notebook, hurling it at her. “If I never felt the same, explain that!” He pulled down the collar of his shirt, pointing at a small tattoo of a paper airplane on his chest “If I never felt the same, explain this!”

“Y-you got a tattoo? When?”

The sudden drop of her voice level took him a moment to realize what she’d asked. “When you started dating the guy with tattoos…” he told her.

“And this?” she asked, bending down to pick up the small notebook he’d thrown at her, thumbing through it. “Blue eyes, tattoos. Text back on time. Don’t say stupid shit,” she read aloud. “A-are these notes on how to date me?”

He shrugged. “I like to think they’re observations.”

“W-why would you need notes on how to date me?”

“To make sure you don’t get bored of me. To make sure you don’t forget me.”

“Seb-”

He shook his head fiercely, feeling his throat close up. “Don’t. Just don’t, okay? I know this is all my fault. I know if I had just stopped being a little bitch, and said something sooner like I wanted to, none of this would be happening right now. But I- Fuck… It’s always been me and you, and I dunno what I’d do if that stopped happening. You’re my best friend. And I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember. And… I can’t risk losing you. I won’t lose you. Even if that means spending the rest of my life jealous of the guys you date.”

“And you never bothered to think that I had the same fears? That I’m just as in love with your stupid ass?”

“Why would you be? I’m just the idiot best friend.”

“Haven’t you been listening? I- God, did you really get a tattoo?” she asked. “What even is it?”

“It’s a paper airplane,” he mumbled, face turning red.

“Can I see it again?” she asked somewhat shyly.

He shrugged, taking off his shirt and tossing it to the side. “Happy now?”

“Oh, Seb,” she giggled, crossing the room to him. “You didn’t have to take your shirt off. You could have just tugged down your collar again.”

“Are you complaining?” he teased lightly, pulling her into his lap.

“God, no,” she said with another giggle. “Oh, Seb,” she sighed, her fingers tracing the ink on his skin. “God, we’re so fuckin’ stupid, aren’t we?”

“Oh, I’m definitely stupid,” he admitted. “Said and done so much stupid shit I shouldn’t have said or done.” His nose nudged against hers, his lips brushing against her cheek when he said, “God, I’m so sorry. I shoulda manned up sooner. And I shouldn’t have said those things about the guys you dated. I just- I fucked up. I let my insecurities get in the way, and I fucked up.”

“I fucked up too, Seb,” she whispered, carding her hands through his hair. “I was trying to fill a you-sized hole when I had you in front of me the whole time.”

“So you still want me? Even after I was the idiot coward that kept fucking up?” The blue eyes were big and watery with small traces of fear as they held her gaze steady, foreheads knocked together.

“Of course I still want you. You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted, Seb.”

Tag List

@cxddlyash @stanofalotofthings @philthepegacorn @youngblood199456 @binxiboo @creator-appreciator @felixtok @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @jessalyn-jpeg @lilyoflower @mychemicalimagines @rougese7en @milea @partiesandblurrypolaroids @summerdaughter

#numbers #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fic #sebastian stan x reader #college AU #calpal irwin

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cringesideblog · 3 years

Text

here’s my dnf playlist and a complete song by song track-list and why I put them on it.

heatwaves- on here for very obvious reasons. i don’t think I need to explain. but here are some lyrics anyway. “Sometimes all I think about is you, late nights in the middle of June.”

Jenny- again this is kinda obvious. “I wanna ruin our friendship, we should be lovers instead, I don’t know how to say this, cuz you’re really my dearest friend.”

TALK ME DOWN- this one just has the best friends pining for eachother vibe. “I wanna sleep next to you, and that’s all I wanna do right now.”

Dark paradise- kinda has dream smp vibes. but also you could argue heatwaves vibes. “Everytime I close my eyes, it’s like a dark paradise.” “There’s no relief, I see you in my sleep.” “There’s no release, I feel you in my dreams.”

Sweater weather- yeah you know why. you absolutely know why. “All I am is a man, I want the world in my hands. I hate the beach but I stand, in California with my toes in the sand.”

Drop the Guillotine- idk man just vibey. give it a listen you’ll get it. it’ll click. “You sure know how to drop that guillotine on me, though you would never wanna see me bleed.”

Can I call you tonight?- thats on their only for of communication being through the phone huh. (major heatwaves vibe) “powers out and I can’t turn the fan on, so can I call you tonight? trying make up my mind, just how I feel.”-“I hear your voice on the phone, now I’m no longer alone.”

Lemon boy- oh my god this song. geogre do be seeing dream as his lemon boy. “I helped him plant his seeds and we’d mow the lawn in bad weather.”

Yellow- DREAM IS LITERALLY GEORGES YELLOW SHUT UP RIGHT NOW. “Look at the stars, look how they shine for you.” “For you I’d bleed myself dry.”

Like you do- first of all I love this song, second, this has dream being a little too attached vibes. The whole song is just them. “Lost in the blue, they don’t love me like you do, those chills that I knew they were nothing without you, and everyone else they don’t matter now. You’re the one I can’t lose, no one loves me like you do.” “Since I met you, all the gloomy days just seem to shine a little more brightly.”

I saw you in a dream- mega heatwaves vibe. “When I’m awake I can’t switch off,” “I saw you in a dream, you came to me. You were the sweetest apparition, such a pretty vision.”

Maybe you’re the reason- did someone say pining best friend who doesn’t know that they’re in love ? this song. this song right here. “I keep looking for something, even though I know that it’s not there. Maybe you’re the reason. And anytime I try to figure it out, you’re the only thing I can think about.”

The king- DREAM SMP VIBE. “You like me, well obviously, so why you tryna leave when you know that I’m the king?” “Other lovers give you no luck, cuz I’m the only one who’s made you fall in love.” “Playing with your heart cuz you gave me the throne.”

Sweet- an adorable song truly that actually fits them so well. “Watching the, video that you sent me- you know that I’m obsessed with your body, but it’s the way you smile that does it for me.” “It’s so sweet, knowing that you love me.”

Apocalypse- um okay here me out, apocalypse au?? yeah i know it’s cute as shit you’re welcome. “Your lips my lips, apocalypse.” “When you’re all alone, I will reach for you, when you’re feeling low, I will be there too.”

Fear of the Water- don’t come for me this ones kinda sad, beautiful song though. “If this was meant for me why does it hurt so much, and if you’re not made for me why did we fall in love?”

Dreaming of you- two words, heat. waves. but also yeah good song for them in general. “Want you all the time, and now I’m dreaming, dreaming, dreaming, dreaming of you.”

Wires- uhhhhh dream smp vibe, dream villain arc n all . “If he said help me kill the president, id say he needs medicine.” “He said that I should take it in, listen to every word he’s speaking.”

Midnight love- it’s girl in love so, you already know how it issss. “I know I don’t want to, be the one that you run to, when you’ve got nowhere else to go, when you need some love.” “I always give in to give you it all.” “I can’t be your midnight love, when your silver is my gold.”

The beach- SUCH A HEATWAVES SONG JUST LISTEN. “I feel it burning me, I feel it burning you.” “I think I can see the beach, I know what’s underneath. I need you here with me,”

Cherry flavored- the neighborhood just.. they have a dnf vibe. “Cherry flavored conversations with you got me hanging on. Down to earth from all the waiting. Take me somewhere beyond.”

Pretty boy- geogre is a pretty boy. point blank period. “Even if my heart stops beating, you’re the only thing I need with me.” “Pretty boy, you did this with me boy.” “As long as I got you, I’m gonna be alright.”

Bad idea- girl in reddd... but like imagine them casually hooking up and not knowing their in love tho. also I feel like they would definitely think that their relationship is a “bad idea” bc they’re stupid. “It was a bad idea, to think I could stop, was such a bad idea, I can’t get enough.” “Darling your so pretty it hurts.”

Line without a hook- ICONIC!! dream definitely does not think that he deserves george. “You can hold my hand if no ones home.” “All my emotions feel like explosions when you are around” “Oh baby I am a wreck without you.” “She’s a, she’s a lady, and I am just a boy. She’s a, she’s a lady, and I am just a line without a hook.”

Say you hate me- mega dream smp vibes as of recently. with the whole removing geogre as king. “I guess that your friends where right, from the start when they thought that I was a bad guy.” “Can you just say that you hate me? Or that you will never love me?” “Never meant to make you leave, never meant to make you cry.”

Cherry bomb- reminds me of how dream cheated on fundy with geogre. “I’m too close to crushing, and I’m too close for comfort I’m rushing.” “I ask how shes so mellow, she tells me her shades are in yellow.”

This side of paradise- I mean, like, kinda heatwaves vibes, but also just them. “Ask me why my hearts inside my throat. I’ve never been in love I’ve been alone.” “If you’re lonley come be lonley with me.”

Linger- geogre literally has that boy wrapped around his finger and I can’t not see it in this song. But when you look into it HELLA dream smp vibes, lyrics can be switched for either perspective here. “You know I’m such a fool for you, you got me wrapped around your finger.” “I thought the world of you, I thought nothing could go wrong, but I was wrong,”

august- i don’t know what is but this song is for them. it just is. “To live for the hope of it all. Cancel plans just in case you'd call” “So much for summer love, and saying “Us” Cause you weren't mine to lose”

I was an island- i just love the idea of them being hardasses and not thinking they need anyone until the other comes into their life and rocks their world. kinda dream smp vibes “I was a fighter, and I was so brave, but I lowered my sword when you held me and swore you’d stay.” “I was a wolf, dear, apart from the pac But you answered my cries in the dead of the night and told me that you had my back,”

Golden- k this one feeds into the “you’re literally the sun in my sky I’m not worthy” feel “I know you were way too bright for me I'm hopeless, broken” “I know that you're scared Because hearts get broken” “I can feel you take control Of who I am and all I've ever known Loving you's the antidote”

Strong- ummm okay but the “we’re better together” dynamic is them “I’m sorry if I say I need ya, but I don’t care I’m not scared of love.” “when I’m not with you I’m weaker is that so wrong? Is it so wrong, that you make me strong.”

Fly out west- the whole, I need to see you, you’re all I think about, stuff gets me. also heatwaves vibe. “Well tell me do you know? You’re all I dream about. Take it from me I’m too dumb to recognize your doubt.”

Cruel summer- them and summer, you dig? “I don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you.” “I love you and that the worst thing you ever heard?”

Nothings gonna hurt you baby- I put this one on here because of how protective dream is over geogre “Nothing’s gonna hurt you baby, as long as your with me you’ll be just fine. Nothings gonna hurt you baby, nothings gonna take you from my side.”

Cardigan- young love, the kind of lover that makes you feel like you are the most important thing in the world to them “when you are young they assume you know nothing, but I knew you-“ “and when I felt like I was an old cardigan under someone’s bed, you put me on and said I was your favorite.”

Cry baby- them being in that weird stage where they recognize that it might be more than just senseless flirting and they might have feelings but also being paranoid that they’re the only one with feelings uh- “I can taste it my hearts breaking, please don’t say it. That you know, when you know.” “I know I’ll fall in love with you baby, but that’s not what I wanna do baby.”

Speak now- literally the fundy dream wedding. i rest my case. “I hear the preacher say speak no or forever hold your peace.” “Dont say yes runaway now.”

I love you so- this song is cute on the surface but kinda sad once you look into it. it’s kinda about a codependent love that isn’t going well. “I gotta get away and let you go I gotta get over, but I love you so.” “You were cool and I’m a fool so please let me go.”

In conclusion I’d really appreciate if you could check it out :) <3

#haha playlist go brr #Please I beg of you go send it some love it genuinely think that all the songs fit them so well #also this might get updated as I listen to more music and discover new songs that fit them #but please #pleaseeee #go like it :)#that would be nice of u <333 #dreamnotfound #georgenotfound #dreamwastaken #dnf #Spotify #heatwaves

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retrievablememories · 3 years

Text

stuck with you | yoongi

title: stuck with you pairing: yoongi x reader, taehyung and jimin as side characters genre: fluff request: “Can you do a idol!Min Yoongi of BTS request of his crush being best friends with Jimin and Taehyung and him and his crush consistently fluster the other but they never realize until one day he does and finally make as move despite everyone telling them for weeks that they like each other?” word count: 3.3k warnings: some cursing, mentions of the pandemic a/n: i’ve been actively avoiding writing anything concerning the pandemic/lockdown cuz let’s be real, we’re all here to have fun, not think about real-life shit...but i decided to try it here

i wasn’t sure how to write their living arrangements tho since most of them seem to have their own places? so i just used the hannam the hill house for reference 🤪

“How have things been for you guys lately?”

Taehyung and Jimin exchange skeptical looks with each other, which you don’t catch because you’re too busy picking over your food.

“We’ve all been stuck in the same damn place for weeks now, so you tell me.” Taehyung chuckles, shaking his head.

You visiting their house right before the stay-at-home mandate was issued ended up with the three of you—plus Yoongi, to your luck—being cooped up in the same house for almost two weeks now. It wasn’t wholly a bad thing, since you got to be with your two best friends, but living with three men was pretty much as messy as you’d expected it to be. “Wow. Never thought we’d run out of things to talk about.”

Jimin tries to humor you. “Things have been fine, you know...same as always. Except for Yoongi-hyung acting like a lovesick weirdo. But you wouldn’t know about that, would you…?” Jimin feigns an innocent look.

You look up from your plate. “A lovesick weirdo for who?”

“We’ve been through this like 20 times already, Y/N,” Jimin sighs.

“Yes, and every time I tell you you must have the wrong person because that makes no sense whatsoever.”

“He’s lovesick over you,” Taehyung reiterates, like you didn’t catch the gist the first time around.

“I don’t think Yoongi likes me.” You shake your head and make a face at the notion of it, trying to disguise your irritation at them constantly trying to provoke your emotions.

“Why not? There’s a lot to like about you, don’t downgrade yourself.” Jimin insists.

“He doesn’t even act like he does. If anything, he gets all odd around me.”

“That’s just how he is,” Taehyung says, leaning back in his chair. “You’d think you’d start to catch onto this after being here for so long, but…”

“No, she’s too busy being too embarrassed and intimidated to even get within 4 meters of him.” Jimin and Taehyung both giggle at that, and you shake your head.

“You guys are like little schoolkids. How many more big tales are you going to think up before our quarantine lifts? You could probably write a book by the end.”

Taehyung shrugs, putting his arms behind his head. “I might do that, as long as you let me make you and hyung the star-crossed lovers who are too dumb to tell each other how they feel.” He stretches his leg under the table to nudge your shin with his toes, knowing how you hate when he puts his bare feet on you, and he cackles when you protest loudly.

“Will you stop trying to get my hopes up for nothing—?”

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Yoongi steps out onto the terrace with the three of you a few minutes later. He shields his eyes against the sun’s sudden brightness after he slides open the glass door, holding his other arm up.

“Look who’s appeared!” Jimin says excitedly, his eyes glittering with enthusiasm.

“You’re loud,” Yoongi grumbles, though he’s mostly speaking to Taehyung and Jimin. “I can hear you laughing from downstairs.” Your body tenses up and melts all at the same time, and suddenly you feel like you don’t know how to do anything right—like hold your chopsticks correctly. They shoot out of your hand when you try to use them again and hit the patio floor. You look at them forlornly.

“You good?” Yoongi asks, a smile fluttering across his lips at your clumsy actions.

“Uh, yeah I’m fine.” You can only glance back at him, embarrassed that you’ve made yourself look like a clown. Jimin laughs like he’s just witnessed the funniest thing on Earth. You shake your head and push away from the table, wanting—no, needing—a quick exit. “I’ll just find some more of those…”

Jimin shakes himself free of his sudden bout of laughter and jumps at the opportunity. “Wait, I’ll get them for you.” He bolts up from the chair before you can even think about it and goes back into the house, already planning to take his sweet time on his mission to get you new chopsticks. Taehyung picks up the hint almost instantly.

Yoongi turns back to the doorway after Jimin disappears through it, his movements a few beats too late—as if he’s just now realizing the other man left. “What was that about—”

“Oh shit!” Taehyung’s exclamation cuts into Yoongi’s question. In a sweeping motion, Taehyung “accidentally” elbows your water off the table, sending the bottle splashing out onto the patio in sad little streams. You jerk away from the splash, but the water droplets have already gotten you.

“What the hell?!”

Taehyung shrugs like it was inevitable and gives a sheepish smile. There’s an undeniable scheme lingering in his eyes, though. “Looks like I’ll have to get you another one.” He stands up to get your aforementioned water, though you begin to form the idea that you’re not getting any water at all.

You sigh and rub your fingers across your forehead. The heat of the sun has turned from pleasant to uncomfortable, and you don’t even have your water to take the edge off. Great.

Yoongi turns back to you, his eyebrows creased. “That was weird.”

“They’re just trying to…” Force us together? You’re too embarrassed to say anything like that, and your words trail off in a stammer. Why did they ever think this would be a good idea? Yoongi raises his eyebrows in curiosity at your bitten-off answer. “An-anyway, that doesn’t matter. So...what are you doing out here?”

Yoongi shrugs, smirking slightly. “Well, I do live here.”

You snort to cover the way your stomach cuts a flip at his smirk, and you reach for your food in a nervous gesture before you remember your chopsticks are still gone. “You sorta seem like a vampire, though. I’m surprised you came out to get some sun.”

Yoongi mulls over that thought. “Hmm…a vampire, huh?” He runs a hand through his pitch-black hair, and even though the gesture is just an afterthought, it makes your heart skip a beat. You almost want to roll your eyes at your reaction to that simple movement. “Don’t tell me you were one of those obsessive Twilight fans over a decade ago.”

“And if I was?”

“Would you enjoy being bitten by a vampire?” Yoongi regrets it as soon as he says it, and you ducking your head into your hands doesn’t help the flaming embarrassment. “Fuck, that was stupid—sorry.” Your shoulders are shaking with laughter, and even though it’d be cute in another context, he feels like he’s about to combust. So he decides to make a run for it. Maybe a cowardly move on his part, but it seems like the best one right now.

“Hyung, you can’t be serious—” Jimin calls out to Yoongi as the older man brushes past once he gets back indoors, but the other man tries his best to ignore Jimin as a blush crawls up his neck. “Go back and tell her. It was the perfect moment!”

“There’s gonna be a lot more of that mess until we can leave,” Taehyung says, peering through the glass at your now confused expression and shaking his head. “God, one of them needs to say something before I lose my mind.”

Like Taehyung predicted, there’s a lot more of “that mess” over the next week. You and Yoongi continue to tip-toe around each other, unsure of how to appropriately handle each other and never unable to shake the awkwardness that colors every interaction.

The most notable incident of all, however, occurs when Yoongi does his laundry one day and somehow finds a pair of your underwear mixed in with his clothes after taking them out of the dryer. How the hell did they even get there, and how did he not notice them before?

Bound to his usual fierce overthinking, he stands there for a few long moments, wondering what he should do. Obviously, the only answer would be to return them to you. But then what if you think that’s weird, him somehow having your underwear? Or what if you assume he’s some pervert who’d taken your panties on purpose?

And to his great luck, that’s precisely when you walk into the laundry room. You give him a timid smile and greeting, which melts away into pure embarrassment when you see him standing there as if he’d just been framed for murder—and your deep red panties sitting in his laundry pile.

Yoongi’s gaze darts between the laundry and your eyes, his jaw working aimlessly as he tries to come up with something that makes sense.

He decides on “I didn’t know they were there,” though this feels just as inadequate as it sounds.

“M-maybe I threw them in the wrong bin,” you rush out, and in the same breath you cross the room to practically snatch them out of the pile of his clothes. You know you couldn’t have done it, though, which leads your mind back to those two sneaky men who’ve been trying to exercise their terrible matchmaking skills as of late.

“A-ah, yeah—maybe,” Yoongi agrees half-heartedly, rubbing the back of his neck.

You both pause for what feels like an eternity, for a reason you can’t decipher, and you think you might burst from the sheer discomfort of it all. “Well—th-thanks. One less thing to wash, I guess.” You try to laugh, but the sound comes out high and forced. Similarly, Yoongi’s answering smile is tight around the corners.

The next few days after that, you are both unable to maintain any kind of eye contact. Taehyung and Jimin are endlessly amused by the way you and the older man dance around each other like two ghosts struggling to inhabit the same space.

You make up for it slightly by turning all of Jimin’s white shirts into a splotchy pink once you find out that this was indeed his terrible and silly idea.

You’ve been sleeping in Jimin’s and Taehyung’s beds since you’ve been barricaded in their home with them, which none of you really think twice about. You’ve been friends with them for years and don’t see either of them other than platonically, so it’s not awkward for you or them. Although it was originally intended for you to mostly stay in Jimin’s bed, you end up alternating between the two, climbing into whoever’s bed you feel like that particular night. Neither of them mind the switch-up, and Taehyung likes using you as his personal pillow, so it all works out.

If there was anyone who minded at all, it was Yoongi. It wasn’t a burning jealousy, because he knew he had no right to feel like that about you—not when he couldn’t even admit to you that he liked you. But it didn’t make him want to jump for joy to know you were in either of the younger men’s beds, even just as friends.

He spent many nights imagining you were beside him instead, warming the empty spaces of his bed, whispering to him and telling him about your day. It didn’t matter if he already knew everything you did that day because you’d all been living in the same space for weeks. He still wanted to know.

But until either of you made a move, he didn’t know when that would happen. If ever.

He didn’t even know if you’d be interested, or if you saw him the way he saw you. You were never as close to him as you’d been with the other two men, and although that could be explained by you being best friends with them for years, he honestly chalked it up to you not liking him as much. Taehyung and Jimin had tried to tell him the exact opposite several times before, but he wasn’t really convinced. Not with the way you seemed to lock up around him—like if you said or did the wrong thing, he’d hate you forever.

If only you knew he could never feel that way about you.

You decide to sneak your way to the kitchen for a late-night snack one night, your socked feet scuffing quietly on the floor as you make your way to the kitchen. However, your plan is derailed when you run into Yoongi in the hallway, who has apparently just taken a shower. He’s fully clothed—thank God, because you’re not sure how you would’ve survived it otherwise—but the towel on his wet hair speaks to his recent shower. Your immediate response is to jump in surprise, feeling like you’ve been caught red-handed; although there’s no law stopping you from getting something to eat in the middle of the night.

“Oh—Yoongi.”

“You’re still up?” he asks, pulling the towel away from his face so he can see you better.

“Uh, yeah...I was just getting something to eat, I guess.”

“No crime in that. You’re tip-toeing around like you’re nervous about it, though.”

“I didn’t want to wake anyone up.” You shrug your shoulders, trying to appear more nonchalant than you really feel. “But I see you’re already up…” Your words trail off behind you as you walk into the kitchen. Yoongi watches your retreating back before making the split-second decision to follow you. He’s not really sure why, previously intending to go back to his own room.

“Were you getting something to eat too?” you ask, turning back to glance at him when you hear his footsteps behind you. You’re admittedly happy at the idea of spending a little more time alone with Yoongi, though you’re still nervous as hell.

It’s probably not the best idea to say I just came because I wanted to be next to you, so he nods to your question. "Uh, sure, I guess. What were you gonna get?”

“I don’t really know, just whatever’s in here…” You open the fridge and stare into it absentmindedly, your eyes raking over the food but not really seeing it—not with Yoongi’s presence hovering behind you.

Eventually you settle on some leftover rice and kimchi—which there’s always plenty of—not wanting to expend too much energy on cooking anything new.

You and Yoongi sit at the table together, using the light of your phone’s flashlight and the under-cabinet lights to illuminate the room instead of the overhead. Maybe it’s a little strange, but you like the ambiance of it more than having the harsh overhead light on.

The room is quiet for a while as you both eat, which you don’t initially mind. But you can’t ignore how Yoongi keeps stealing glances at you, like you aren’t going to notice, like he isn’t sitting right in front of you where you can see. It makes you antsy, but not necessarily in a bad way.

“Is something up?” you finally ask, keeping your eyes on your half-empty bowls, too nervous to look straight at him.

He hums like he’s thinking intently about it. Then he decides to rip the band-aid off and says, “You’re always tense around me.”

“Oh.”

He chuckles at your short response. “Why?”

You feel like you’ve been backed into a corner, and you hesitate. “Well, you’re always weird around me. Why is that?”

“Touché.” Another tense pause where he thinks of what to say, and then, “Jimin and Taehyung swear you like me.”

You try not to react so obviously, but your spoon clatters against the side of the bowl. If he’s acting weird because of the idea of you liking him, how can it be possible that he returns the feelings? Maybe he doesn’t know how to let you down easily. You suddenly feel ridiculous, like you’ve been wasting your emotions on nothing. “...I see.”

“I thought they were...trying to play some game. But, since you’re here now...is it true?”

Maybe if you close your eyes hard enough, you can poof yourself out of existence. If you felt trapped before, you really are now. You blurt out the first thing you can think of, trying to save yourself.

“Before you think I’m stupid for liking you, you should know they’ve been saying the same thing to me about you. So. Yeah.”

Yoongi looks at you full-on. “They told you I like you?” A nervous grin fixes itself on his lips, which makes you second-guess yourself. At this point, your head and heart are tangled in a knot. Why does your love life have to be this difficult? “So that’s it, then.”

“What is?”

“We like each other.” That makes your heart rate pick up. “...and didn’t even figure it out until just now, despite everyone else’s ‘help’.”

You take a shaky breath. “You like me.”

Yoongi nods, glancing between his hands on the table and your face. “I should’ve said it sooner.”

Despite yourself, you feel the corners of your mouth twitch into a slight smile—one that’s colored with relief and a tinge of lingering nervousness. “Later is better than never, I guess.” You find yourself laughing from the way all your stress slowly unwinds itself from your body, and Yoongi joins you, his eyes sparkling in the dark.

“So. This means we’re dating now, right?”

“I hope this isn’t considered our first date.” You snort, looking around the kitchen.

Yoongi shakes his head, placing his cheek in his hand with a sleepy smile. “I promise I’ll take you somewhere nice...after the pandemic is over.”

“We might be waiting a while, then.” Finished with your food, you go to quickly wash the dishes in the sink, and Yoongi slides in next to you to do the same. Another silence falls over the two of you, but for the first time, it’s not uncomfortable or pulled taut with words unsaid.

When you finish, Yoongi leans against the counter, his eyes openly tracing over you, wearing just a big T-shirt and shorts. It’s a simple outfit, but it warms his heart.

“Come sleep with me,” he says suddenly. You crack an awkward smile at that, and he’s blushing before the last syllable even leaves his lips, because he understands how that sounds. “I mean, actually sleep. It’s late.”

You pretend to hesitate on it. “I don’t know, Taehyung might miss me…”

“Taehyung and Jimin have had you all to themselves the past few weeks. It’s my turn now.”

And with that, you let him take your hand and guide you back to his room, maneuvering carefully through the dark house. His bed is new to you, but it’s instantly comfortable—like home. The smell of him surrounds you, as does his arms when he pulls you closer. You smile against the fabric of his shirt as you tuck your face into his chest, his chin on top of your head.

“Goodnight,” he murmurs, his fingers curling around your shoulder. His voice is soft and low, already halfway to sleep.

“Goodnight, Yoongi.”

#yoongi fluff #yoongi fic #yoongi scenarios #yoongi imagines #bts fic #bts fluff #bts scenarios #bts imagines #suga imagines #suga fic #suga scenarios #suga fluff #ambw kpop #ambw #ambw fic #ambw fluff #ambw scenarios #ambw imagines

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salmonthestoryteller · 3 years

Text

Against All Odds

Roswell New Mexico Coda 03x03

Isobel sighed - half in relief and half in frustration - as she parked her car by Michael’s truck. Her brother was unsurprisingly sitting by his fire pit, but he seemed calmer than he had at the drive in.

Michael rolled his eyes when she got out of the car and approached him. “I’m pretty sure I’m safe here, Iz.”

“There was a fire at the church.” Isobel took a seat by him. “We’re back to square one.”

Michael groaned, hanging his head over the back of his chair. “Well, the sunflowers are from me, I guess. So it’s someone I’d be willing to pay respects to.”

“I thought you were convinced it was you.”

“…”. Michael sat up, keeping his gaze on the fire. “Well, Alex doesn’t think so.”

“You talked to Alex?” Isobel asked. Michael shrugged. “So you run away from Max and me - twice I might add-“

“I didn’t run-“”

“You never come to us for help, and trying to help you in anyway is a sure way to start an argument-“

“I don’t need charity-“

“But you will go straight to Alex Manes and tell him everything?”

“…if I was gonna kick it, I kinda wanted to see him at least once.” Michael explained.

Isobel frowned. The giddy feelings Michael had allowed to seep through their shared connection before Alex returned had been absent. She thought perhaps he’d simply been too busy helping her save Max to say anything about their reunion but this didn’t really sound like that at all. “What happened?”

“Alex says if I was the one dead he’d… react differently.” A small flicker of hope again, but nowhere near as substantial.

“So, Alex said your death would affect him deeply. Sounds like a pretty enormous declaration to me.”

“…yeah.”

“So why aren’t you with him? Oh, shit, is he here?” She glanced towards his trailer.

“What? No!”

“Well, I don’t get it. What happened to all those “I think it’s our time” vibes-”

“He’s seeing someone else.” Michael snapped.

Isobel froze at his words. “Oh…”

Michael sighed. “Yeah, so not our time. Okay?”

“But I mean, if he’s saying you dying would affect him so much, how serious could he be about the other guy?” She couldn’t help but point out. Honestly, she may have to do a little digging herself. She wasn’t above being a manipulative bitch if either of her brothers’ happiness was on the line.

“I don’t know. I didn’t exactly interrupt their reunion kiss to ask how serious their relationship was.” Michael responded sarcastically.

Isobel winced. She imagined that hadn’t been a great thing to witness. “Maybe it’s not that serious?”

“Serious enough to let him know when he’d be back in town.”

“Yeah, but he also told you when he’d be back in town.”

“Alex has better options than a junkyard mechanic in Roswell with a criminal record. I can’t exactly fault him for choosing them.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were going to date Alex Manes, not a member of my Mom’s yoga club.” Isobel quipped. “Is he really that interested in boyfriend bragging rights?”

“He’s a decorated war hero. Can’t exactly go on dates with a criminal.”

“Didn’t seem to have a problem asking you to use your criminal talents to break into a top secret alien facility though.” Isobel crossed her arms. “Wait, is this why you cleaned up your act this past year? For Alex Manes?”

“Look, don’t we have a murder to solve? My non-existent relationship can wait.”

“That’s not a no.”

“There were a lot of reasons, Iz. Knowing about our moms. Sanders. Having you, me and Max back to how we used to be. And, yeah, maybe some small piece of me thought it might impress Alex. Most of which has all been turned on its head, so… can we please focus on the murder now?”

“Do I at least get a name?”

“Isn’t the point that we don’t know the name?”

“I mean the name of who Alex Manes is seeing that you apparently think he can brag about to his yoga club?”

“He doesn’t do yoga.”

“Irrelevant.”

“If I tell you, will you finally drop the subject?”

“Deal.”

“Forrest Long.”

“A Long? Are you serious?”

“Dropping the subject, remember?”

“Come on, you can’t expect me to not say something about that.”

“As much as it pains me to say it, Forrest isn’t a bad guy. Black sheep of his family. Guess he and Alex have that in common.”

If she was already concocting a list of all the gossip mongers in town she knew who might know something about Forrest Long, Michael need never be the wiser. “Gregory isn’t so bad.”

“Please tell me you two never-“

“No. Just an observation.”

“Uh-huh. So are you still seeing the bartender?”

“We aren’t serious. I don’t think I can be serious about someone who doesn’t know about us. Our collective history on that isn’t so good.” Isobel let her eyes rest on the fire - she didn’t like thinking about how that applied to her own past. To Noah and how he’d never truly been unaware. How their entire relationship had been nothing but lies.

“I hate the idea we cover another murder. Thought we were done with lies…”

Isobel frowned, watching the flames. “What if I’m not crying cuz of who it is, but how they died?”

“Meaning?”

“What if it’s cuz we’re to blame? What if it’s like Noah and Rosa and-”

“Hey, that’s not gonna happen.” Michael cut her off. “The only potential evil alien around here is in a cage in the desert and he’s staying there. Nobody’s making us do anything ever again, okay?”

“Promise?” Her smile felt shaky even to herself.

“Promise.” Michael didn’t hesitate.

End

Author’s Notes: *sideeyes Jones* If you dare make Isobel go through that again…

I don’t think they’ll actually do mind control again. Though it is one possible explanation for bringing up Noah at the funeral in the vision.

Mostly this was an excuse for Isobel and Michael interaction. Cuz Isobel may live to torment her brothers, but their happiness really is important to her. There is a touch of classism with the way every character who is not named Liz Ortecho treats Michael during the course of the series, some more than others. Isobel, however, has definitely gotten better about it since the first season. So I can definitely hear her reacting to the notion that Michael wasn’t “good enough” boyfriend material defensively. Because despite her own “stepford housewife” Roswell persona, she never allowed it to interfere with having Michael in her life - even when his behavior was at its worst. And I can totally see her social media stalking poor Forrest and being like - yeah, no. My brother is way better. (Sorry, Forrest.)

While I’m pretty sure Alex has long forgotten the words that started the communication errors between Michael and him, I think a part of Michael is still very hooked on that “I want to be with you, but not if you’re wasting your life.” He still feels at some level that who he is isn’t “good enough” and that’s probably why he was willing to take such a huge step back when he realized Alex was interested in Forrest. He needed to prove he could be “good enough” first. And I need Alex to smack him over the head with the fact that he stopped caring about that shit somewhere around Caulfield.

Also, the fact that the only person Michael feels safe going to when things are bad is Alex? That says things. He’s had moments with other characters but in each instance they’ve come to him. The only person Michael willingly goes to is Alex. He’s the only person he feels truly safe asking things out of. The only one he allows himself to shed that “but if I owe them, that’s dangerous” mindset with. And thinking about that is truly heartrending.

#roswell new mexico #rnm fic #michael guerin #isobel evans

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theres-an-impulstor-among-us · 3 years

Note

Among Us: Crewmate Impulse getting an imposter voted out on a hunch, except this time the "hunch" is actually just Ghost Tango somehow yelling at him from the dead loud enough to influence his subconscious/code (this idea brought to you by: rewatching vods from before Tango got his compressor lol)

yeaaaa so this one is gonna have a LOT of caps in it lol i hope that’s okay. i’ll put a cw in the tags as well just in case

also i want to share the fact that this google doc is labelled “Tangy yell” lmfao

…

Impulse is standing at the upload panel when Tango enters admin to do his card swipe. The two exchange “hey”s at the entrance, before Tango heads over to stand at the admin table.

The last thing he sees before his vision goes black is the image of a figure popping out of the vent in the corner.

Tango sits bolt upright with a gasp. “Gaah! Skizz, what the hell?! That was the stupidest thing ever! Impulse is-!”

He breaks off as he spots Impulse turning away and leaving the upload panel without even turning to check the rest of the room.

“Hey,” says Joker, floating through the wall to join Tango in admin. “How’s it-.”

“Are you KIDDING me, Impulse?!”

Joker winces and covers his ears. “God, man… You need a compressor.”

“Impulse was RIGHT there!” Tango bellows, flinging his arms out towards his dead body over and over again. “He was standing FIVE FEET away from me! How did he not even notice I DIED?!”

“Tango!” Astro, who has just entered the room through the wall, yelps. “Inside voices, please!”

Crossing his arms, Tango floats furiously in the middle of the room, his upper half sticking out of the admin table, steaming so hard that he can almost feel actual steam rising off his transparent ghosty body.

“And I thought I was bad at noticing bodies,” grumbles Tango. “‘Least I’ve never had someone die five feet behind me and just left without checking if the person behind me two seconds ago is still alive. Stupid Impulse and stupid Skizz with his stupid face. I hate ‘em. I hate their stupid faces.”

“You might feel a bit better if you decided to do some tasks,” Astro says pointedly, finishing his upload. “So, you know, we have a chance of winning?”

“Don’t patronise me, Zoan.”

Just as Tango turns away, his dead body is finally reported. At the meeting, Tango has to just sit silently and watch as everyone discusses where they saw him last.

“I saw him in admin a minute or so ago,” Impulse reports. “But he was alive when I left.”

Astro winces, already knowing what’s coming.

“ARE YOU MOTHERFRICKING KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW, IMPULSE?!”

Sure enough, Tango’s subsequent roar shatters the ghosts’ eardrums.

“YOU ONLY THINK I WAS ALIVE WHEN YOU LEFT BECAUSE YOU WERE- YOU DIDN’T- OH MY GOD, IMPULSE!” Tango face is as red as a tomato, the blood vessels sticking out of his neck despite being dead. “HOW CAN ONE PERSON BE SO UNOBSERVANT?! SKIZZ LITERALLY VENTED! INTO THE ROOM! AND KILLED ME! THEN VENTED OUT AGAIN! UNDER YOUR MOTHERFRICKING NOSE! AND YOU DIDN’T EVEN CHECK ON ME BEFORE YOU LEF-!”

Tango’s voice cracks and he breaks into a fit of coughing.

“Oh my GOD, Tango, you need to take it down like a billion notches!” Joker rubs his ears in pain. “Or get a compressor or something, dude! You’re giving me a headache and I’m DEAD.”

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.” Tango lets out a prolonged funny noise, unable to do much else with his now sore throat. “Hate. Hate you all.”

“Stop talking before you lose your voice completely,” Astro says in a dad-like way. “You can get some water when we’re back in the lobby. Just take a moment to-.”

“Oh my god, guys, listen to the meeting,” interrupts Joker suddenly. “Listen!”

“-can’t explain why,” Impulse is saying. “I just think it’s Skizz. I mean, not only does he not have an alibi but also he says he just went into navigation, which has a vent leading from admin outside it.”

“Oh c’mon, that’s circumstantial,” retorts Skizz.

“I feel it in my bones, dude. I just have a hunch that it’s you.”

Astro turns to Tango with an impressed expression. “Dude, I think you yelled at him so loudly that your voice crossed the border between life and death.”

“Good,” croaks Tango hoarsely. “I hate him.”

“You know what, I’ll buy that,” Brody says in response to Impulse’s accusations. “I haven’t seen Skizz all game and he hasn’t really tried to be helpful at all lately, so I’ll vote him off, sure.”

“Oh come on!” Skizz snaps. “Really?”

Impulse nods. “Yup, cuz I know you’re the imposter.”

“As Tango would say: negative!”

“You said he only says that when he’s imposter.”

Skizz opens his mouth but apparently can’t find anything to say back to that.

Tango watches with a certain amount of satisfaction as Skizz is voted off the ship. With the sheriffing of Endless earlier in the game, the round ends and everyone is sent back to the lobby.

Tango immediately storms up to Skizz and glares at him. Skizz gives a chuckle as he gets up off the seat. “Hey, buddy. That was a really good kill, you gotta admit.”

All Tango can do in reply is glare at him.

“Tango lost his voice from screaming at you guys,” Astro explains with a grin.

“Wait, he can’t talk?” Skizz snorts. “That’s hilarious.”

His face twisted in a furious expression, Tango makes a wringing-neck hand movement at Skizz, who laughs and takes a step back. “Oh man, you’re REALLY mad.”

Nodding firmly, Tango turns to Impulse. He jabs his finger at his best friend, then draws it across his neck.

“Why’s he mad at ME?!” yelps Impulse.

“Because I vented into admin, killed him, and vented out again right under your nose,”Skizz snickers.

Impulse’s eyes widen. “No way…!”

“And you left the room without checking on him so you thought he was still alive when you left,” adds Astro. “As he kept saying. Or yelling, rather. Many times.”

“Ohhhhhhh noooooooo…!” Impulse gives his best friend an apologetic grimace. “I’m so sorry, Tango! I had no idea, man.”

Clearly still furious, Tango jabs his finger at him, then makes the same neck-wringing gesture at Impulse, before finally throwing his hands up in frustration.

“I, uh… I think we might need to take a break and get Tango some water,” Impulse says sheepishly.

Tango opens his mouth and dissolves into another fit of coughing.

“...and some cough drops.”

“I’m gonna have permanent hearing loss after that,” grumbles Joker, still rubbing his ears. “I swear to god, I’m not playing with you again until you get a compressor.”

Tango gives him an apologetic and slightly sheepish look.

“So wait, what exactly happened there?” asks Etho suddenly. “Impulse, you had no information and then suddenly you were saying it was Skizz. What happened there?”

“I literally heard Tango’s voice in my ear,” Impulse explains. “It sounded like he was yelling and I didn’t hear full sentences, only bits and pieces. I heard “Skizz”, “kill”, and “vent”. So I put two and two together.”

“Your voice was so strong that it broke through the beyond and reached the realm of the living,” Skizz snickers. “I can’t even be mad about that; that’s pretty awesome. But bro. Joker’s right; you desperately need a compressor.”

Tango rolls his eyes, wishing his friends would stop saying that.

“Anyway, let’s take five and meet back here after,” says Impulse. “Tango, let’s get you some water.”

Etho watches the two of them leave the lobby together, before sitting down on the floor and leaning his head back against the wall. He doesn’t know how it’s possible that Tango managed to get through to Impulse despite being separated by death, but he does know that this can’t be good. There’s a reason the living can’t hear the dead.

Or maybe he’s just thinking too hard about it. If there’s anyone out there who can yell loud enough to make someone who shouldn’t be able to hear him hear him, it’s TangoTek.

Maybe they really do need to get him that compressor.

#friday night stabby #tangotek #impulsesv #skizzleman #cw caps #vaunna’s requests

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gangrenados · 3 years

Note

this is extremely important: stark reader x jason todd featuring reader’s best friend! wade just being wierd around them

This is more about Jason and Wade meeting than anything, so yup

•It was less to say that your dad didn't really approve Wade as your friend.

•Although Tony knew this weird guy had the best intentions with you, he couldn't help but not ignore all the massive criminal records he hold

•...well, Wade always defended himself saying that it's not a crime if it means that the world can become a better place without all the scum and yeah, he also needed the money.

•Not that Stark needed to know about that, right?

"You know I will support you no matter what because we're family and all that stuff, but why?" Tony says, pinching the bridge of his nose when he hears Wade talking so excitedly about some old pictures of the avengers, he was talking about his own team.

"Wade is a great guy, dad. You both could get along if you didn't treat him in such mean way!" You pointed out calmly and Tony gasped shortly after that.

"I don't know where you got an especial interest on dangerous guys, but you should check that out." Tony said sternly.

"C'mon dad! You're being really unfair right now." You took a bite from your chocolate bar as you pointed a finger to Tony." Besides, I wasn't the one looking for a new bike for Jason's birthday, huh?"

Tony left out a a sight, pinching the bridge of his nose once again, an habit that unfortunately has stuck with him thanks to all of those times having to hear Peter nerdy ramblings." You know what? Go before Wade ends up blowing up something. Just go, goodbye."

•But what about Wade's relationship with Jason? Well.

•If we're talking about the superhero field then Deadpool finds quite interesting this Red Hood guy.

"Fuck man, we're like twins!!" Wade shouted excitedly as he chocked a criminal with his granade belt.

•How they got in this situation? Well, teaming up was always something exciting, even for those who tend to work alone.

• Although Jason wasn't so happy to have to work with this dude who can't keep his mouth shut, Wade was having a blast.

"We can have a team name!" Jason rolled his eyes at comment, he didn't answer, but Wade didn't needed it. So he kept going." What about DeadHood or Red Pool?"

"Ah fuck..." Jason shoot a guy on the head before turning to face Wade." Dude, can you stop? Those are some interesting names, but the thing is that I'm not interested. Shut the fuck up."

" I see, you're not that friendly." Wade shook his head" Well, that's a shame cuz I really like how DeadHood sounds! It's kinda mysterious ya know?"

"Anyway, we'll probably see again and we could talk about the name when that happens! It's usually that way with these kind of stories...see ya!"

•That Was the last thing this guy said before jumping into his motorcycle and leaving a really confused and annoyed Red Hood behind.

•Jason didn't paid much attention to his words, after all if didn't made sense and he had to attend more important business, like going to your place to meet this friend of yours.

•He wasn't too excited about it, but it was important to you so fuck it.

"Someone told me you meet Deadpool" you made your way to the living room where a patched up Jason was waiting patiently in the couch.

•You sat beside him, making sure to not move too much to not cause him any pain." So what do you think about him?"

Jason let out an annoyed sigh, he ran his fingers through his hair before speaking." He's insufferable. I would have shot him, but it would have been a waste since apparently he can regenerate himself...ugh."

•You chuckled nervously at Jason's confession, you knew he always have a hard time working with others, but you stupidly hoped their first encounter would have turned a little bit better.

"Oh..." was the only thing you could say as you did your best to not ruin the big surprise." Uh, Jay? About the friend I wanted you to meet, he's-"

•The sound of the microwave going off caught both of your attention, alongside the happily squealing that was coming from the kitchen.

"Oh my God, why pizza is so fucking tasty!" Jason frowned is eyebrows at the sight of a man dressed in an all red suit, with bullet holes and dried blood coming from the kitchen. "It's like a mini orgasm every time I took a bite! Is it too exaggerated if I said I would sell my soul for a slice of pizza? Probably yes..."

•Deadpool was in your house? This better be a dream cuz Jason wasn't happy with this. He took a sharp breath between his teeth and clenched his jaw. You knew Jason wasn't having it.

"I told you to take off that damn suit!" You glared at Wade with wide eyes, he didn't understood your sing at first but he clearly got after you 'subtlety' pointed out Jason.

"Oh shit" Wade said under his breath.

•The tension in the room could be easily cut with a knife, it was so dense and suffocating or maybe it was Jason's glare at Wade.

"So, this is my best friend...Deadpool?" You turned to him, unsure of how to address this situation." Can I say your name or we go by Deadpool?"

•Maybe you couldn't see it, but Wade's eyebrows were knitted into a frown. He couldn't take his eyes of off his pizza as his thoughts rushed into a million of ideas of how to get out of this situation.

"I don't know, this is weird." He said as he clicked his tongue. "Maybe we can do this another time, I just remember I hot a job to do and I need money, so we can meet later (y/n)'s boyfriend!"

•Wade handed you his plate before he rushed to the front door, leaving you without a clue about what to do next.

"Damn," he cursed before stepping out, poking his head back again into your apartment." Look man, I like to be a pacifist, but if you dare to hurt (y/n) I won't hesitate to fill your pretty lil head with lead. Capisci?"

•And that's how your best friend and boyfriend met. You can bet your ass that it was headache explaining to Jason why were you friend with this guy.

Tag list below the cut (ignore)

Marvel tag list: @nervousfandom @mukelovers @pretendthisusernameisgoodd @miliablr @gigi-is-confused @shadygoateeprincess @smol-flower-kiddo @ghost-bitch @lovelyartemisa

Tag list @bathroom-sand @aterriblelangblr @simpery @strangerthings14 @jyarumu0619 @kellieriddle96 @adarksoul098 @rosethegothamhistorynerd @duckmylife18 @panic-attheplace @malfoys-demigod @darkraven1983 @magicisabluewish @hamdehlesmis @lucy-roo @lovelyartemisa @missmaskedwriter @c0-77 @ginevraxrogers @imagines-fluff-yandere-smut @shadygoateeprincess @nervousfandom @ghost-bitch @silverw19 @thegirlwholovesbooksblog @hecatemacbeth7 @unknowntoanyone @mistalli @screechingghostbananafarm @waroncheer @lady-stirling @ghostly-ginger @greeknerd007 @la-femme-lupita @jasonsballsack @violettessuniverse @wondergal23 @dreamxcollide @thirstiestpotato @magicalbeanie @dreamingforthosewholost

#stark reader #dad! tony stark #tony stark headcanon #tony stark imagine #wade wilson headcanon #wade wilson imagine #deadpool imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd headcanon #dc imagine #xmen imagine

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luvelyhs · 3 years

Text

In the end, we can only save ourselves

harry and y/n are in an open relationship

i’ve been wanting to write this concept for a while cuz i love reading about it so hope you enjoy :)

warning: angst ofc what else do you expect from me 😅

i’m def writing a part two so stay tuned for that :))))

—————

The fresh red marks littered his neck, they showed someone else had claimed him for themself, had marked her husband with their lips. It was a disgusting thought, and Y/N had to turn away before she quite literally threw up.

“Want some coffee?” Y/N shook her head.

“I’m fine.” He didn’t notice anything, fuck, when did he ever? Y/N was getting sick of it, his obliviousness to her tense and off behavior. Y/N thought communication was key, but sometimes she feels afraid of the future, of what could happen if she voices her feelings and thoughts, of saying she wants to end their open relationship. He’d leave her. She knew it.

“Mmkay.” He turned the coffee maker on, and the only sound in the room was the noise it made. Neither Harry nor Y/N were speaking.

She had to leave because she kept taking looks at him, at his neck. Did he even know what that made her feel? Any semblance of feeling? Did he have any respect for her anymore? It would be respectful to not showcase the work of another on his body, open for her to see, in their own fucking home. It was ridiculous, and suddenly the hurt was replaced with anger.

“Have fun last night?” Y/N’s voice was ice cold, something no one could miss, especially not Harry. He glanced up at her over his phone.

“Yeah, ‘t was fun.” He nodded, eyes moving back down to his phone. Great, now he couldn’t even look at her while they were having a conversation.

“I could see. Quite literally.” Harry looked at her in confusion, while Y/N rolled her eyes at his obliviousness.

“All over your fucking neck, Harry. At least hide that shit next time, will you?” Y/N grabbed her laptop from the island table, backing up her chair, making it squeak against the wooden floor.

“Shit, ‘m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t know.” Y/N scoffed at his guilty tone while she was exiting the kitchen. Y/N didn’t know how much longer she could put up with this. She never wanted this fucking open relationship in the first place. All she wanted was to make him happy, and now she’s so disappointed in herself for lowering herself in that way for a man. Even Harry wasn’t worth it, the man she had loved with her whole entire being and entire soul. Because he’s not who he used to be, and it makes her feel more empty than anything else.

“Be a little more considerate next time, yeah?” She called back over her shoulder, walking to their backyard to get some sun and do some work.

She looked behind to see if Harry was following and couldn’t help but feel a little hurt when he didn’t. The old him would have followed her around like a puppy to see her smile and be happy with him again. This was another example of how much their relationship had changed, for the worse.

Y/N opened her laptop and started looking over a manuscript for her job. It had been an hour or so when she got an incoming Facetime call from her friend back home.

See, Y/N had basically uprooted her life for Harry. She had a good job back home, with her family and friends surrounding her, but she let herself get windswept by Harry and his charm and charisma. He had done everything to sweep her off her feet, even though she didn’t want to be with him in the first place.

He succeeded, eventually, hence why she was in London in their home, where he wanted to settle down, not her. London was cloudy and gray, she wanted the bright sun and blue sky. But she had to follow him, because what the star wants, the star gets.

Don’t get her wrong, Harry and Y/N were so happy during their one and a half year of dating and three years of marriage. They were perfectly happy, she had been enough for him during this time, until six months ago he started becoming distant, wouldn’t come home until late at night and would text her to not wait up for him, he didn’t even know if he would be coming home at all, and that irritated her yet also hurt, because he was growing distant and whenever she tried to initiate conversation about it, he would deflect.

It wasn’t until one evening he broke, started saying how he felt trapped.

“I jus’- we’re good, Y/N, so good. But don’t you think tha’s just not enough? I- I saw someone at the club tonight. I wanted to get her number, I wanted to approach her, and almost did when Mitch stopped me, pulled me back, said I had a lovely wife waiting at home for me.” Y/N hadn’t believed her ears. Her initial thought was- ‘he could go to fucking hell’, but she didn’t want to lose him, she didn’t. Because she loved him. So.. she brought it up. When she shouldn’t have. She should have taken it back as soon as she said it, but she can’t turn back time.

“You wanted to fuck her? That’s what you want to do? Throw a whole 4 year relationship away because you wanted to fuck a pretty girl? Go ahead, Harry. Do what you want.” Harry had approached her, looking at her warily.

“You’re not saying, you want to end us?” Y/N heard fear in his words. He was scared of the end of them, but it wasn’t enough. But in the heat of the moment she shook her head, when she should have said yes.

“No. No.. I.. we can try an... open relationship?” Y/N forced the words out of her mouth, wincing slightly when she saw the bright look on his face. And this is where she was proud of herself for a moment, because she had made him happy again.

“Really? Are you sure?” Y/N nodded, again, forcefully.

“Yeah, sure.” She nodded her head, fake smiling when Harry approached her and granted kisses all over her face, before pulling her into a deep one and showing her how happy she made him with lots of loving through the whole night.

It stopped him being distant for a bit. He would tell her where he was going and with who. She’d tell him to have fun and to be safe, wear protection. He said of course he would. They’d meet for a quick peck, then he was out for the night.

He thought she had nights where she went out too, but she didn’t. And she wasn’t about to tell him that. She had pride, she had suggested it, now she had to deal with the consequences. She couldn’t bring herself to sleep with another person, it was disgusting. All she could have thought about was Harry, and she had months to think about this, about how someone you’re married to would be okay sleeping with another person... it wasn’t okay at all, not for her. She always thought if her significant other wanted to do that, she’d end the relationship, because if she wasn’t enough for him, what was the point of being married?

She had given Harry the benefit of the doubt for a few months, wanted to see if he would end the open relationship himself, but no. He became more bold, this wasn’t the first time he came home with hickeys all over his body. But she had been quiet then, she wouldn’t be anymore.

Y/N quickly answered Anna’s call, greeted by the brunette beauty on her screen.

The excitement on Anna’s face made Y/N miss her more.. made her all the more homesick. She wanted to see this face in person, and it had been a year since she had.

“Y/N!!” Anna screamed, excitedly. Y/N grinned, happy to see her best friend again.

“Anna! I miss you!” She squealed, sitting up a bit to set the laptop on her lap.

“How’ve you been, baby cakes? Still kicking ass at work?”

“I’ve been good... just living life. Of course I have been! Getting promoted soon, just know it.” Y/N smiled, because she genuinely loved her job. She worked at a publishing house and read over new stories, and she loved it because it pulled her into another universe, one where she didn’t think about Harry and reality.

“Still madly in love with your hot hubby?” Anna giggled, clearly teasing, but usually when Y/N would laugh bubbly along with her, she sat silent.

“Y/N? Everything alright?” Anna frowned.

“Umm.. yeah.. just-“ Y/N tried to stop it, she tried, really she did. But the first tear slipped past her defenses then another and then more.

“I don’t know what to do, Anna, I don’t.” Y/N sobbed into her hands, breaking down once Anna asked that question. Everything she had been holding in, was being let out.

“What’s wrong, honey? What happened?” Anna said gently, coaxing Y/N to open up and tell her what happened.

“Don’t- don’t judge, okay? I know I said I’d never let this happen, but, but I dunno. I don’t know.”

“Let it out, Y/N.”

“Harry and I.. are in an open relationship.” Y/N looked up at Anna’s concerned face, nodding for her to continue.

“I’m not judging, baby cakes, do you mind telling me a bit of context? How did you get into the situation, huh?” Anna remembered a conversation they had about their future partners. The topic was cheating and Y/N had said if her partner ever slept with another, it was over. She was a little possessive over her boyfriends, not overtly so, but enough to be so jealous if they were to do anything with someone in front of her or flirt and she didn’t think she could ever handle them sleeping with someone else, and Y/N was so in love with Harry, everyone could see it, so how did she get herself in that situation?

“Uh-“ Y/N sniffed, wiping some tears from her face with her hoodie sleeve. “He waa distant and he said he wanted to hookup with someone one night so I just suggested it. He wanted to do it and it made him happy so I agreed too. I haven’t slept with anyone, I can’t, Anna. I don’t know how he does it.”

“Oh, honey.. I think it’s time you came back to us. Take a break from him and gloomy London. Think things over back home.” Y/N knew she needed to get away, and Anna’s words reinforced that thought.

“Alright.. umm.. i’ll book a flight right now.” Anna gave Y/N a sympathetic smile.

The topic switched to Anna’s life and questions about what’s happening back home, all while Y/N booked a flight back to her local airport for two days from now.

It was a one way ticket, she didn’t know when she would be back. Or if she would be back.

The confirmation email sent to her phone and it pinged to let her know it was there.

“Got it! I can’t wait to surprise my mom.”

“So excited for you to get here, baby cakes. Ugh-“ Y/N could hear kids yelling in the background. “gotta go, Ben just spilled juice all over Bran.” Anna rolled her eyes, blowing her best friend a kiss goodbye and then ending the call.

Y/N sat back against the lawn chair, staring at the pool and pretty garden and trees in her backyard.

A warm hand on her shoulder brought her out of her thoughts, making her jump slightly.

“Harry! You scared me!”

“You alright, bubba?” His tone was serious and concerned, looking down at her with his gently green eyes that forced her to say what she’s been wanting to say for a while, but she held herself back.

“‘course, do I not look alright, Harry?”

“You’ve just been a little, I dunno, tense.. recently.” He chose his words carefully, not wanting to upset his bubba.

“Tense?” Y/N let out a short laugh, staring back out at the blue pool water:

“Talk to me, darling, c’mon.” He stroked her arm, coming around to stand in front of her before dropping low, now she was looking down at him.

“I’m not tense, Harry. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You were crying, Y/N. I can see the tears stains and red eyes. Why were you crying?” A dreadful feeling took over him.

“Why am I crying? Why am I crying? It’s because of you, Harry! I’m crying cause of you! You’re not worth my tears, not anymore. Not when I don’t even know who you are anymore.” Her tone became more soft at the end, a broken whisper at the realization.

“Darling..” He cupped her face, a frown marring his features. “What did I do, hm? This about the hickeys? It won’t happen again, bubba.” His tone was gentle for her.

“It’s more than that. It’s about the whole thing. I can’t keep doing this.. this open relationship anymore, Harry. It’s hurting me, it’s been hurting me. You never noticed, that’s the thing Harry.” Harry gulped, the words slicing a knife through him.

“I thought you were okay with it, Y/N? You brought it up in the first place.”

“Because you would have cheated on me if I didn’t. At least with this I know you’re out with others. Not behind my back.”

“You think that lowly of me, pet? That I would cheat on you? Never, darling, never.”

“You yourself said you wanted to hookup with that woman from the club a few months ago, remember that, Harry? If I’m not enough for you anymore, just tell me. Because I will end this marriage if you don’t.”

“What? Y/N! You’re everything I ever need, baby. Well end this open relationship, you’re the only one for me. I promise.” Y/N shook her head, because the respect for herself was building, and this was step one to recovery. At this point, she knew she had to do this, to save herself from the inner turmoil, the disrespect she had granted on herself for letting this happen. It’s taken a toll on her mental health, and she had to this.

“No, Harry. What we’re ending is our marriage. If I was ever enough for you, you wouldn’t have wanted to be with anyone besides me. I’m leaving in two days. Leave me alone until then.” With that, she pushed Harry away from his kneeling position, and walked back into their house. It hurt to say the words, it hurt to make what she was dreading a reality. Harry stared brokenly at her, not knowing what to do to fix this, fix them, fix her.

#harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagines #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles sad

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cuddlemen0w · 3 years

Text

daily dose of failure | peter parker x reader

(+ the group aka mj, ned and harry)

a/n: heyaaa here’s part 2 and it’s longer than the first part so i hope it’s ok! ;) i’m still going with mostly peter’s pov cuz that’s what i wanna do duh.. also mj is gay now. deal with it. and i fancasted harrison as harry osborn :)

warnings: language, anxiety. are those warnings?

gif is from pinterest

“For the record, I did not ghost you,” Peter said as he walked through the crowded hallway, Ned and Harry on each side of him.

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry huffs and rolls his eyes. “What were you doing then?” He shoots him an accusing eye.

“Self loathing?” Peter avoided eye contact, instead he played with the strap on his backpack. His two friends stare at him more intensely. “Fine! I ghosted you.”

“What are you taking about?” y/n’s cheery voice made them jump.

“You,” Ned immediately says, receiving a slap to the back of his head from Harry. “Did you not learn from yesterday?”

But y/n nor Peter heard Ned’s or Harry’s comments. And if one of them did, they ignored it.

“So, I saw you enjoyed yesterday?”

“Oh yes! But it’d be way better if you were there,” y/n’s voice softens then. “But at least I could have cheese nachos,” she joked.

“Ew,” Peter made a face as he shivered all over. “But whatever makes you happy.” His face was still crunched from the thought of the ‘nasty looking garbage food’ as he called it. The girl before him only laughed.

“It’s good, you’d know it if you’d actually try it.”

“Hell no, I’m not touching that.”

“Fine,” she says, her back already turning to go to her first class.

“No! I didn’t mean it! I swear!” he smiles finally. “I never mean it.”

y/n stops in her tracks, her beamy grin back on her face. “Sure thing, Petey.”

Peter’s cheeks warm up at the nickname, still not used to it even after all the years. He’s loved her for all of them.

He remembers the first time she called him that. They had one of their movie nights, this time at his place. With May gone to work, he had permission to let his friends stay the night. MJ was in the kitchen making popcorn along with Harry who was grabbing some soda. Ned was on a ‘pee break’. y/n cuddled up to him, her head on his shoulder, her breath brushing his neck. “Thank you, Petey.” What for? he asked that night. “This, all of this.” She broke up with a boy that night. He felt bad for being happy about it.

“Peter?” she broke him out of his thoughts. “You have math now right?”

He made a noise in response. If it was an agreement or confusion, she didn’t know. He stared at her for a moment longer. “Oh! Math!” he realised, he grabbed his books from the locker and sprinted away.

“Weirdo,” MJ appeared out of nowhere, startling the girl. Her hand shot up to her chest.

“I told you not to do that!”

“Well, you should know I never listen. Anyway, are you going to tell him or what?” MJ asks, swinging her arm around her friend’s shoulders.

“Tell him what?” y/n tried to play innocent. Her act faltering at the sight of MJ. Her brow raised and a knowing look on her face.

She groaned, “I’m still waiting for a sign if he even likes me like that.”

“You’re so oblivious.” MJ said quietly, shaking her head.

Peter locked his screen just as he saw Ned, y/n and MJ entering the lunch hall and heading for his table. His food splayed all over it along with a few of his textbooks, serving as a clear sign of holding someone’s place. He started cleaning his mess up when they neared him.

“If it’s another party I swear I’m ending our friendship,” MJ said as she bit into her sandwich.

“I’m with you on that,” y/n nudged her friend. “But if there’s any cute girls,” she wiggled her brows at MJ. Giggling slightly.

“Oh shut up!”

“What— What do you mean?” Peter panicks. All the colour from his face is out. What if she isn’t into boys at all? HOW COULD I NOT NOTICE? he freaks out internally.

MJ joined y/n in her laughter. She laughed so hard a few tears escaped her eyes. “Oh my!”

The latter is the one to break out of it first. Coughing slightly from laughing in between bites. “Cute girls, as in, for MJ.”

Peter’s eyes narrow. “What?” he said, his mouth open in confusion. All around the table, they could almost see the gears turning in his head. “Oh!”

“Yes, oh!” MJ’s laughter died down a bit. Only a tiny bit.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“It’s ok Peter, although I recon I told all of you,” MJ narrows her eyes now.

“Yes, but Peter wasn’t there,” Ned is the one to speak out. “He was doing— eh.”

Peter panicks again. Think of a quick lie! “Laundry!”

“Riiight,” MJ slowly nodded. “Because you totally know how to do that.”

y/n saved Peter from the intense stare of their friend, “C’mon MJ, let him breathe.”

“I just want to know what he’s doing all these times he ghosts us.” Well that’s a good point.

“As I said laundry.” Stick with one thing, he thinks to himself. “May wants me to learn, so I’ll know in college.” Damn, I’m good at this.

MJ glared one last time, “Sure.” She bit into the last piece of her lunch and left him only with Ned and y/n.

His palms sweat from being almost caught. He looked to his left, exchanging weird looks with Ned, then he turned to the girl opposite him. Her skin looked so beautiful in the midday, spring sun. Her hair looked soft for touch and her eyes coincidentally matched her shirt. “I— uh.. I gotta do laundry now actually, before we go to Harry’s. Okay, bye!” he excused himself quickly and almost ran out of the lunch hall.

“Weird huh?” Ned awkwardly said when only him and y/n remained.

“Yeah, weird.”

Peter was doing ‘laundry’.

He swung along the many buildings in Queens, checking if the neighbourhood was friendly and safe. His mask clad face scanned the many little alleys. It was a moment of peace for him, he felt free flying above the streets.

But it faltered when his phone dinged in his suit. He jumped to one of the roofs and fished it from the pocked that Tony installed into his new suit.

He opened the phone to find out Harry’s text.

“Yeah,” Peter said out loud. “This better be good.”

Everyone showed up at Harry’s. His football friends, few cheerleaders, the squat — all except Peter.

“Of course,” MJ muttered as soon as she got there and the brown haired boy wasn’t present. “Dude’s gonna miss his own funeral at this point.”

“Yeah,” Ned laughed nervously. His fingers fidgeted and teeth bit his lower lip. MJ took notice of that after his laughter lasted suspiciously long. But she choose not to say anything, yet.

Harry was the one to ease the bit of tension in his house. “Don’t worry, he’s gonna show up.” He paused to grab a drink. “Told me himself. And he’s got a surprise.”

“Surprise would be him showings up.”

“Well, who am I to tell what it is?”

MJ looked between her two male friends. Her eyes almost boring into their soul. “You two know something,” she stated. “And I’m gonna find out what.”

y/n entered the room right after Ned almost choked on his drink from fright. “Something wrong Neddy?”

“No, no. Not at all,” he smiled, like a kid caught doing something they shouldn’t. “We’re just talking about Peter.”

“What about him? Have you seen him? Is he going to show up?” she could go on but Harry saved them all.

“Yup, he’ll be here any moment now.”

The girl let out a relieved sighn, her shoulders relaxing and the fake half smile dropping from her lips. “Thank god, the more time I spent with your damn friends the more I wish I was ghosting you too.” She points to Harry.

“Peter is not ghosting us, remember? He’s doing laundry,” he points out. Making y/n laugh, Ned chuckle nervously and MJ to huff. “Don’t worry, he’ll show up. I threatened him.”

All of sudden, the door bell rang though the big Osborn house. Everyone around the living room fell silent, only the music played from the speakers. A blonde boy, that was closest to the hall went to open the door.

After a very awkward two minutes of silence, the guy returned with a stunned expression. His eyes wide and mouth hanging open.

“Who was it?” one of the other boys asked, but he didn’t need an answer. Right after the blonde, a red clad man walked in. Spider-man. In Harry Osborn’s house. The murmurs started to float around the room.

“Hi!” Peter said from his spot. He remembered himself. “Hello,” he said more deeply. There’s too many people, he thought. And all of them are looking at me. He had a sudden urge to mess his hair, something he did when he was nervous or stressed. Right now, he was both. But the superhero mask was in the way.

“I uh,” he paused to look at all the faces. Most had hanging mouths out of shock, some had eyes full of awe. His vision quickly found the one he was here for. y/n was standing between MJ and Ned. She was one of those in shock, but her mouth wasn’t hanging, nor were her eyes wide. She was one of those pinned to their place, unmoving, utterly shocked to do anything.

“I’m here to say something.” Peter’s voice trembled. All the confidence he told himself he has in the suit was gone. He was just a boy, standing before a girl in a room full of people. “My friend,” he nodded to assure, more himself than others. “He uh,” his breathing picked up. “He’s in,” his eyes glossed inside the red suit. “He’s in danger!” he let out.

“Peter?” y/n almost yelled out.

Peter freaked out. He was sure he fucked up now.

To his relief, she worriedly continued, “Peter is in danger?”

“Yes!” Play it cool Parker, play it cool. “I— Peter needs Ned, Ned Leeds.”

Ned pointed at himself, unsure what his best friend meant. “Yes, you! Now hurry, or he’ll be in much bigger trouble!” He then grabbed Ned’s arm. “Come on,” he whispered furiously.

They only stopped once they were far enough, that no one could eavesdrop or see them from a window. Ned panted from the quick pace Peter set. “What— what is— what’s going on?”

“I can’t do it!” Peter whisper-yelled. His mask in his hand now. “I thought, maybe if it wasn’t entirely me, I’d say it. But I can’t!” the vision of the mask in his hand blurred behind the tears. “I’m a coward! As always I am!”

Ned neared his best friend. “It’s okay, Pete.”

“It’s not!” he burst out, throwing his hands into the air, his face red. “I’m the biggest fucking loser in the goddamn universe!”

“It’s really not that bad.”

“How can you say that?”

“Because she likes you too.” It was a familiar voice. Behind them, MJ stood with her hands crossed. Both boy’s breaths hitched. “Yeah I know, Peter is Spider-man. What a surprise!” she mocked. “You really thought you were slick huh?”

“How?” Peter motioned between himself, the mask and her. His tears long forgotten, replaced by disbelief.

“Well, I started to notice your weird disappearances, and that,” she pointed far to the house behind her. “Was very obvious.”

“Does anyone else—”

“Know? If Harry doesn’t, then I don’t think so.”

Peter shook his head. “Good,” he breathed out.

MJ cocked her head, “Don’t mind me asking. But what the hell was that?” Again, she pointed to the big house.

“I tried to tell y/n my feelings,” he said, as a matter of fact. “Didn’t go very well.” He shook his head and chuckled. “Didn’t expect anything more from myself.”

Ned and MJ shared a look. Both stepped closer to the now kneeling Peter. Their hands soothed his back as they too sat down on the lawn under the night sky. “You should’ve told us that you wanted to tell her. We could’ve helped,” MJ said into the dark night. “She would’ve told you the same, you know.”

“What?” He looked up from the green grass. His head turning from MJ to Ned for reassurance, only to receive a nod from his best friend.

“She likes you a lot.”

“Like a lot lot,” Ned added in and nudged his friend.

Peter breathed in the night’s air. His heart beating a bit faster, not from anxiety anymore, but from joy. His tears dried out completely now, he only sniffled here and there.

“Okay then, what’s the plan?”

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bigskydreaming · 3 years

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Okay, long time followers will probably remember having read this, but I can’t find the original post and I’m trying to like.....force-reboot/jumpstart me working on my ‘Kings of the Sky’ AU again because I haven’t touched it in awhile and I have like literally eight different installments in various stages of completion and that’s ridiculous even for me. So here’s a repost of the first part of “Teachable Moments” the canon-divergence point of that AU series, where Jason calls Dick for advice after the Garzonas case and everything changes from there.

******

The way Jason Todd warily eyed the device in his hand, one might think it was an instrument of great and terrible destructive power, rather than just…his own personal cell-phone.

To be fair, he was Robin, and pretty used to the idea that even the most unlikely of things could be used for evil in Gotham. It could’ve been stolen and replaced at some point by a henchperson of Mr. Freeze, and using it could unleash some kind of cryogenic freeze ray that would turn him into a Robinsicle. Mad Hatter could be up to shit again, and dialing the phone at this very minute might mean syncing it up with a remote radio signal that would override his natural brainwaves and turn him into Tetch’s mindless minion of like…doom and stuff. Or…or…

Or sometimes, even in Gotham a phone is just a phone, and Freud is still a dumbass. And neither of the above possibilities had anything to do with why Jason was being a giant freaking pansy about entering the last digit of the phone number he would never ever admit to having had memorized for months now.

Nightwing had said to call if he ever needed to talk. He wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t actually want Jason to call, right? Like, its not as if Jason had remotely been expecting him to do that, so its not the sort of thing someone did just because it was ‘expected’ or shit. He was pretty sure. Rich people manners were weird though. Had to factor that in.

But Nightwing had also even made a point to say not talking to people about stuff was Bruce’s problem and that Jason shouldn’t let it be his problem too, and even though months ago Jason had been a starry-eyed dumbass who was totally drunk on the Bruce is the Bestest Kool-Aid or whatever, ‘Wing had definitely known what he was talking about there. So maybe he’d get it, and having this conversation with him wouldn’t be. Like. The actual worst idea in the history of ever.

Deductive logic said that Jason was getting worked up over nothing and there was no rational reason for him to be this nervous about dialing a fucking phone number. And he’d gotten pretty good at the whole deduction shit, given all the work he and Bruce had put into training his mind to view the world through entirely new paradigms, so Jason was pretty sure his math on that checked out. But on the other hand, Bruce was a hypocritical asshat that Jason was currently not speaking to, so what the fuck did he know about anything?

Aaaaand he was back to square one. Well damn. This was excellent. Very productive. Good hustle out there, Jay.

Sighing gustily, Jason flopped back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling and trying to pretend he hadn’t gotten used to how luxurious and cushion-y his ridiculously expensive mattress was. He’d gotten soft, he told himself. Then he scoffed at the idea that the past year and a half of rigorous Robin training and patrols had made him less tough than the pipsqueak he’d been back when living on the street, getting his ass kicked by bigger and badder on the regular. That hadn’t been hardness, that had been bravado.

But it had gotten him this far in life, so maybe there was something to be said for it after all?

Ugh. Decisions were hard. He objected on principle. He also really wanted to understand why he was this nervous…if he could literally fill the guy’s shoes and kick supervillain ass as Robin, what freaking sense did it make that he couldn’t even call him up on the phone?

Maybe you just know better than to ask him questions you don’t really want to hear his answer to, a smug voice said in the back of his mind. It sounded suspiciously like Willis Todd, which was all kinds of weird and fucked up, cuz Jason was damn sure his abusive a-hole of a deadbeat dad had never said anything that insightful in his life.

Which meant it was his own screwed up subconscious - presenting in the voice of his not so dearly departed douchebag dad, no less - that had Jason reacting out of spite, entering the last number and hitting Talk, all while totally on autopilot. Because apparently we’re all making healthy life choices in this Chili’s tonight, Jason snickered somewhat hysterically while his phone rang once, twice, three times.

Ugh. Was he always this fucked up in the head and he just never noticed, or was it a side effect of running around rooftops in a cape. Inquiring minds wanted to know.

“Hello?” Someone said then, answering on the fourth ring. Jason sat bolt upright, his nervous humor vanishing as quickly and unexpectedly as it’d hijacked him in the first place. For all that he’d only actually interacted with the older man a few times, his voice was instantly recognizable. As was his slight confusion.

Right. Because why would Nightwing have the untraceable number of the latest burner phone Bruce had given Jason, when the ever paranoid Bat had him swapping out phones every freaking week? Duh, Jay.

“Uh, its me,” Jason said hastily, as if he could somehow catch up to and overtake the epically long ten second silence he let lapse before his mouth started making words again. “Jason?”

“Jaybird! Hey! What’s going on?” The older vigilante’s tone instantly morphed into one of surprised delight, so apparent even across the phone that Jason actually pulled it away from his ear and stared at it, as if that could explain Nightwing’s inexplicable giddiness. He’d literally only met the dude three times. Give or take a concussion he was forgetting about maybe? Weird.

Then again, the older man was a circus performer from birth. Might just be good at faking being super excited to hear from people? Whatever. Still weird.

“Uh, you said to call if I was ever having, I dunno, issues with Bruce I guess? So I kinda had a question? I mean, if you’re not busy or anything.”

Just one question? Willis’ voice asked snidely, echoing in time with the rapid tripartite beat of Jason’s heart. Since apparently everything Jason said was trying to come out with a question mark attached to the end of it at the moment. Ugh, fuck you, subconscious, Jason thought forcefully, even as he ransacked the recesses of his mind for that bravado he was thinking about earlier. It had to be in here somewhere…

“No worries dude, I’ve got time. Hit me!” Nightwing said cheerfully. His lighthearted cadences were so at odds with the sweat suddenly breaking out on Jason’s forehead, the younger teen couldn’t help but wince in anticipation of its inevitable change once he got his actual question out. This was a bad idea, he decided, way too fucking late for it to make a difference. He had a hunch Nightwing wouldn’t be content to ‘just forget it’ or whatever even if Jason chickened out now.

So he took a deep breath, shrugged and did what Jason Todd did best. Said fuck it, put pedal to the metal, and drove at full speed for the metaphorical police barricade that was his way of picturing all the things telling him He Should Definitely Just Not.

“Do you think I’m someone who could kill somebody in like, cold blood?”

Aaaaand there went the lightheartedness. Well, he’d definitely stone cold killed that, Jason thought grimly into the silence that followed.

“Huh,” Nightwing said at last. “You’re gonna have to give me a second to switch gears here, Jay. I was kinda expecting something along the lines of ‘how do I avoid Bruce giving me the safe sex talk.’”

Jason flushed and nodded jerkily, not that the older man could see it. Still, it’d been enough of a workout just getting to this point. He didn’t trust what might come out of his mouth next if he kept trying to force it. Thankfully Nightwing didn’t make him wait too long before continuing.

“I think anyone’s capable of killing somebody in the right circumstances,” Jason’s predecessor began carefully. Except that was not remotely what he wanted to hear. Or helpful.

“I’m not looking for platitudes,” Jason grit out, not angry at the other vigilante so much as the whole fucked up mess and his inability to think about anything else at this point. “It’s just a simple fucking question. You’ve met me, do you think like, I’d be capable of just killing somebody or not.”

“I’m not offering platitudes,” Nightwing continued calmly, as if he wasn’t phased by the younger boy’s interruption or sudden aggression at all. “And its not a simple question at all. Speaking from experience, most people wouldn’t think of an eight year old as a cold-blooded killer, but that’s what I could have been if Bruce hadn’t stopped me from killing my parents’ murderer when I first tracked him down. And yet that’s still totally different from when I held a gun on Two-Face barely a couple years later, about to shoot him because somebody else told me to, and because I wanted to hurt him like he’d hurt me. Wouldn’t you agree those are two different situations and two different ‘kinds’ of cold-blooded killer? Context is kinda a big deal here.”

Huh. First off…what the fuck? Jason stared blankly up at the ceiling, trying to hurry up the processing functions of his brain because, again, what the fuck? He was like ninety nine percent positive none of that had been in the Dick Grayson Is The Greatest and Here Are All The Reasons Why brochure he’d had read to him every time someone new found out he was Wayne’s newest stray, and like. Uh. Yeah, that part would have definitely stood out. Because once more, with feeling:

“What the fuck?”

Oops. That hadn’t been supposed to be out loud. Bad mouth. Bad.

Nightwing just did a weird kinda half laugh half sigh combo. Rueful, Jason would describe it, if he were describing it to someone else, which it kind of felt like he was, relaying the conversation to himself now that it’d taken a hard right turn into the surreal.

“Blindsided you with that, huh? Sorry, should’ve figured neither of those are the kinda stories Bruce would want to share with you. Then again, I don’t really have any idea what Bruce has told you about me.”

“Not much,” Jason admitted. Which was a major source of irritation, if he was being honest. The much sung praises of Dick Grayson came from literally everyone he met except for Bruce. Who usually just got a pinched expression whenever Jason brought him up, and a rapid subject change that was not nearly as subtle as Bruce seemed to think it was.

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Nightwing sighed. “I hope you haven’t put too much stock in anything else you’ve heard about me then. I’ll admit to a bad habit of enjoying my mystique, so secondhand hearsay tends to lose my best nuances.”

Despite himself, Jason’s lips curved up and he let out a rueful huff of his own. “I mean, this definitely isn’t where I saw this conversation going.”

The older man chuckled. “Thought I was going to just assume the worst and chuck the book at you?”

“Well. Yeah.” Jason shrugged, even though he knew it wouldn’t come across. “Bruce did.”

Nightwing heaved an exasperated breath. “Yeah, that’s kinda the thing about B. Sometimes, he’s great. Other times, he’s an ass. Its kinda an either or thing. He’s never really mastered the art of finding a midpoint between two extremes. Mostly because he’s never seen the point of aiming for middle ground.”

“Well its not like he’s ever really had to,” Jason griped. It just slipped out before he could stop it, leaving him feeling guilty for bad-mouthing B when he wasn’t around to defend himself. Especially since he knew Nightwing wasn’t the guy’s biggest fan these days. But he couldn’t deny it also felt good, in a way.

To his surprise, Nightwing just laughed. And not even in a malicious, spiteful kind of way, but almost relieved.

“God, thank you. You’d think that ‘hey, so my billionaire guardian kinda has entitlement issues’ would be a water is wet kind of revelation, but try saying something like that to pretty much anyone else…”

“And they look at you like you’re an ungrateful asshole?” Jason finished for him. Not that he’d ever actually tried saying that to anyone before, though he’d definitely thought it a time or two. But he could all too easily imagine the reactions he’d get, which was pretty much why he’d never gone so far as to speak the words.

“Yup,” Nightwing drawled, dragging out the p and popping it with emphasis. “And its not about being grateful or not, its just…there are some parts of everyone that just aren’t up for grabs, for other people to weigh in on or take charge of, you know? And a lot of people just don’t get that…because nobody’s ever tried it with them, or had to deal with expectations that…overstep, let’s call it?”

“Is that why you left?”

Jason winced the second it left his mouth. Too far. Definitely way too far, but he’d just gotten unexpectedly comfortable with the back and forth, and now he’d done the overstepping thing himself and was left with just dead air.

But ten seconds of heavy silence stretched into twenty, and went no further, as Nightwing sighed into his side of the phone again.

“The spiteful part of me wants to say it was more of a push than me just up and leaving,” he laughed again, but this time with unmistakable bitterness. “But even while that’s true, its not really the right answer to your question, because no matter how much of a clusterfuck that was at the time, its not…I mean, I knew at the time how to fix it. Where and how I needed to cave in order to make up with him and let things get back not quite to normal, but at least close enough.”

The pause wasn’t as heavy or tense this time, as Jason could almost sense the older man gathering his thoughts, trying to put them into words. He bit his lip rather than risk any more unexpected utterances escaping. This might not have been where he’d thought his phone call would lead, but now that he was here, hearing the answers to questions he’d wanted to ask for over a year and finding them almost comfortably familiar, he wasn’t going to risk distracting Nightwing or shutting him up for well. Anything.

“But it would have meant me caving. Settling in ways that I just…couldn’t. So in a way, yeah, I did leave, it was still my choice. And all of that was definitely a big part of it. I love Bruce, I do. I just couldn’t live with him anymore. Not without feeling like I had to give up my own autonomy and just be what he wanted. Or what he’d expected me to grow up to be, back when he first took me in. And as grateful as I am to him for that, I can’t honestly say I would have stuck around back then if I knew that was the price tag attached. I’m not…I don’t do well with people trying to force me to stick to one place, one thing. I was born on the road, you know? When I was a kid, I expected to spend the rest of my life living like that. Home was people. Not places. And so Gotham…its never fit me quite right, the way it does him, or even Barbara. Its not like I was miserable there, its just.”

“It wouldn’t have been your first choice,” Jason finished again, quietly. There was silence again for awhile.

“No. No, it wouldn’t have been. Not then.”

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inkandpen22 · 3 years

Text

Shared Minds and Shared Souls (1/?)

Pairing: Spike x Female!Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death, swearing

Word Count: 2.9k

Story Summary: Driven by the power she posses as a witch and psychic, Y/N returns to Sunnydale to pay a visit to her family after she has a vision about Dawn. She isn’t exactly like her duty first and justice before all else cousin Buffy as Y/N follows her own rules. She offers her aid to the Scoobies during their drama with Glory. Y/N doesn’t plan to stay long until she experiences an unparalleled connection with a certain vampire from North London.

Masterlist

I never imagined myself visiting a small town like Sunnydale. I’ve lived in many places, but never California. The west coast isn’t exactly my style. For one, it’s hot. Two, the hippy-dippy happy-go-lucky attitude makes my eyes roll. Finally, Los Angeles reminds me of Celia, my cousin. Buffy, Celia, and I were inseparable as children. Dawn tried to tag-along in our make-believe games, but Buffy grew annoyed with her quickly. I haven’t been back in California in a decade for this very reason. Everything about California reminds me of a time when we were just kids. Before everything went to Hell in a hand basket.

Blasting Green Day in front of the hospital, I park my 1967 bright red Mustang. I take a minute to collect myself before barging in. Buffy and Dawn don’t exactly know I’m coming, but there’s something I have to warn them about, something so crucial that I drove here all the way from New York. The funny part will be explaining to Buffy that I know she’s the Slayer. To her knowledge, I’m just her ordinary cousin who she hasn’t seen since we were ten. In reality, I’m a psychic witch, have been since birth. Well, I’ve been psychic since the womb, the witchy part came later. Oh, and I can’t forget seeing the dead part, I always do. That little twist comes with the psychic part. Yeah, imagine a little ten-year-old me seeing my recently deceased cousin at her funeral… fun times. It explains the whole discomfort toward California. Low-key traumatized, but all good. Any who, I should probably stop the hesitation and just head inside.

As I stroll down the bitter cold hospital hall, I grip the leather straps of my backpack nervously.

“Hi Buffy,” I rehearse under my breath. “You probably don’t recognize me, I’m Y/N… your cousin. It’s great to see you- God I sound so stupid!”

I follow the signs on the wall toward the Neurology unit. Hospitals, cemeteries, funeral homes, old buildings, all great places to bump into ghosts. The things I do for family, boy do these guys owe me.

As I turn down yet another peach colored hall- geez this place is dated- my eyes land on a familiar blonde in the waiting room at the far end. Oh great, here we go. Buffy doesn’t notice me right away, being too occupied with doting on a sleeping Dawn resting her head on her lap. I take note of the blondie boy sat beside her. I’m guessing he’s with Buffy. Good for her, a strong seven out of ten. I would rate him higher, but he’s not my type, too All-American boy-next-door.

“Looks like I’m right on time,” I determine once I’m closer, thus making my presence known. Buffy peers up at me and her eyes widen steadily. Blondie next her looks between me and Buffy. Her surprised reaction makes him tense, I nearly assure him I’m not a threat.

“Y/N?” She gentle shakes Dawn to wake her as she rises from her seated position. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard about your mom… ” I explain vaguely. In truth, I saw it in a vision and a lot more beyond that, but I’ll just say my mom told me for now.

Buffy makes long strides and warmingly embraces me. I can sense the desperation in her touch. Her ora is all out of wack. I could see the mess her colors are from yards away. It seems like I did really arrive at the perfect time. Buffy needs me now more than ever.

“Y/N!” Dawn gasps behind us.

Buffy and I part, her eyes stare into mine pleadingly. Yeah, we really need to have a chat. Preferably somewhere we can be frank, truly frank, no bullshit like I’m spilling right now.

“Oh my God!” Dawn squeals, rushing down to greet me. She squeezes me like a stress ball as she rambles on about how much she’s missed me. Then, Dawn starts to ask the tough questions as usually does. The girl has never quite had a filter. “Where have you been?”

“New York mainly,” I laugh.

“How come you’ve never come to see us before?” She rushes out as Buffy continues to stare at me in awe. It could be she thinks she’s dreaming this.

“Dawn, I-”

She cuts me off, “how’s aunt Lolly? Are you college? When did you get in?”

“Dawnie!” I laugh, “I will answer all your questions, promise. We’ll catch up! For now,” I look at Buffy. “I need to have a chat with your sister…”

The girl scoffs, rolling her eyes dramatically as she crosses her arms over her chest. “Of course, you’re for Buffy… everyone is always here for her. No ever visit me,” she grumbles.

“I’m here for you too,” I assure Dawn. “I just… it’s important I speak with Buffy right now. It’s about something-”

“I’m sorry, but who are you?” Blondie interrupts, his face covered with confusion.

“I’m Y/N,” I introduce myself. “I’m Buffy and Dawn’s cousin.”

“I’m Riley, the boyfriend,” he offers me his hand.

Wow, quite the introduction. I’m not much of a contact-person, but this seems like the perfect opportunity to gather information on G.I. Joe. As I shake his hand, I’m able to visualize memories and emotions from him. They come as flashes before my eyes. I hear his thoughts, see through his eyes, and feel what he’s felt. All I see Buffy, moments they’ve had. At first, pleasure and immense happiness consumes my head. Then, it’s replaced with doubt and self-deprecation. The obsession with Buffy is replaced with desperate longing. He feels her slipping.

My visual is cut-off when Riley removes his hand. I’m brought back to current moment, surrounded by chaos of the hospital.

Dawn frowns, curiosity etched across her features. “What’s so important that you had to come all the way? Does it have to do with Mom?”

“You came all the way from New York?” A male voice questions behind me.

What is this an interrogation? The sooner someone tells me where Buffy is the sooner I can head back home. Believe me, I don’t want to be here longer than I have to be. I glance over my shoulder, Willow and Xander stare at me in confusion. We’ve never met, but I know of them, the visions. I’ve been keeping tabs on Buffy and the family since… well… since Buffy became the Slayer.

“Yes,” I answer Xander directly. Turning back to Buffy, I not so discretely tell her it’s urgent. “Please, Buff, do you have minute? I know this isn’t exactly opportune but-”

“Of course,” she swallows hard. “We can uh… we can talk outside. There’s a courtyard just over there,” she gestures down the hall.

“I’m coming with,” Riley declares next to her.

“I’m sorry, is your name Buffy?” I sass, much to his frustration. “What am I going to do her? She’s my cousin. I’m only borrowing her for a second, then you can toss the leash back on her.”

“Y/N…” Buffy mutters for me to stop.

Riley narrows his eyes at me- oof, I’m real scared now! While I giggle at her boyfriend’s expense as the two of us start down the hall. I’ve missed Buffy, we used to be like two peas in-a-pod. Once all this drama I’ve seen in her future is over, perhaps we can be close again. I refuse to settle in Sunnydale though. At least we have phones and email.

Once outside, and we’re certain we’re alone, Buffy cuts to the chase. “Not that I’m not happy you’re here, Y/N, I am but, why are you here?” She hasn’t changed a bit.

I snicker, peering up at the sky as the sun it starting to set. Gosh, I hate the day. That sounds weird because what human hates daytime, but I do. I’m much more… in tune with myself when it’s night time. I thrive off the moonlight and stars. The sun and its rays are hot, too hot. I like the cold and darkness of night.

“Fine, let’s get right to it,” I smirk at my cousin wickedly. Reaching into my back pocket, I pull out my pack of cigarettes, feeling a bit anxious. “You mind?” I ask her, not really caring but figure I should check.

Timidly, she shakes her head. Her arms are securely crossed in front of her as she watches me take a smoke. “Those things will kill you,” she advices the cookie-cutter phrase.

“So can a car accident, yet we still drive,” I remark with sass. “What’s life without a little risk?” I wink.

Buffy shifts on her feet as her jaw clenches. Her aura is shifting again, Black to red, I’ve never seen someone change on a dime so fast. That’s change is funny, she’s either angry or afraid of me, maybe both. I can’t blame her, I’m not exactly a Care Bear. My black and red attire doesn’t scream comforting.

“Then again, you would know all about death, right Cuz?” I suggest subtly.

Her eyes lock with mine and I start to see the wheels turning her head. ‘Does she know? How could she?’ She’s likely thinking to herself. One touch and I could hear for certain what she’s thinking.

“What are you talking about?” She mumbles, barely meeting my eye.

I scoff, tossing my head back, why can’t this be easier? You know what, fine! Growing impatient, I hold my hand out, palm to the sky. “Light,” I verbalize and within seconds a bright orb floats above my palm.

Buffy stares at my magic stunned. Yeah, I was sort of expecting that kind of reaction.

“How… How…” She stutters.

“If you’d like a mini bolt of lighting I can do that too,” I offer. “I kind of prefer them, far more powerful!”

She doesn’t share in my excitement as she slowly steps closer still in awe. “You’re a witch?”

“Yep!” I smile, rather proud. “Have been for a while now, gotten pretty good at it too, not to brag or anything…”

“So…” Buffy continues to process everything. “You know about demons, vampires-”

I hum, “all of it. Including that you’re the Slayer, congrats by the way! Fun shit,” I compliment with a snicker.

“Not exactly how I’d describe it,” she mutters defeatedly, her eyes still on the orb.

Closing my fist, the orb disappears and I place my hand on Buffy’s shoulder. Her eyes meet mine solemnly.

“How long have you known?” She asks unfazed.

“Since forever,” I answer truthfully. “Sorry I never called or have come to help. I’ve sort of been cheering for ya from the sidelines. In all honesty, I’ve been away perfecting my magic with a coven. I’ve met some pretty interesting people along the way, all dazzled when they find out I’m related to the Slayer,” I gush.

She pays no mind to my compliments, still in a daze. “Does anyone know? Does your dad?”

I shake my head and sternly tell her, “he can never know! He thinks I’ve been away at school in Boston. In truth, I’ve been in New York with a coven.”

Buffy nods in understanding, though I know Joyce is aware of the supernatural world. My mom could never handle it. “Did you come all the way here to tell me that?”

Okay, here’s the hard part, the real hard part! I finish my cigarette, pondering the last relaxing bit of it before tossing it to the ground. “Okay, so here’s the deal,” I begin. “There’s a this big nasty bitch I’ve seen in my visions- I see visions by the way-” I add in passing, having forgotten it. Then, I remember I can’t forget the ghosties bit. “Anyway, you’ve already bumped into her, Glory. Yeah, she’s a real charmer from what I can see. I’m here to help because based on my visions, she’s kicking your asses.”

I leave out a crucial bit of information, a part of the visions I’m not sure I can share. One important thing about being a psychic is not changing fate. As much as I want to tell Buffy everything, I know I can’t, not if I don’t want to mess with the world.

“So, you’re here to help us stop Glory?” She clarifies.

“It gets real fucked at some points,” I tell her, hoping that doesn’t reveal too much.

“And I take it you know about Dawn…” she insinuates.

I nod my head slowly, “you mean that she’s The Key? Then yes, I do. She’s about as human as the Teletubbies, but of course I won’t mention that to her. Who all knows?”

“As of right now, me and Giles. He’s my Watcher,” she explains. “Did you already know that?” She’s catches on quickly.

“Kinda…” I answer hesitantly. “Sorry if that’s weird. I’ve tried not to pry with my visions. If it makes you feel better, I didn’t know who Riley was! He mustn’t have been around the last time I checked in!”

“When was the last time you… ya know… checked in?” She asks, unsure of how to phrase it.

“Well, I’ve been away with the coven. I joined them right after high school, so I suppose it was when you started at UC Sunnydale. I know all about Willow and Xander, they seem nice from what I’ve seen. Angel, his in-and-out appearance in my visions was confusing for a while until I realized he was doing that in real life too,” I laugh.

“So you saw all of the Spike drama and my mom finding out about me too?” She asks.

I frown, I saw Joyce learning about Buffy and that whole conversion, but I’ve never heard of a Spike. Based on my expression, Buffy predicts the answer.

“Spike is the biggest pain in my ass,” she groans. “He and Angel used to be all vampy together. Then, Angel gained a soul and Spike got worse from what I’ve gathered. He’s killed two Slayers, so we’re not exactly friends. We met when he tried to kill me. He’ll show up and leave again, kinda like Angel but less helpful. Except now, he’s acting all infatuated with me and sticking around.”

I snicker, “oof, so you have a psychotic vampire lusting after you? How did I miss this?!”

Buffy rolls her eyes, “believe me, it’s not fun.”

“Is he hot?” I inquire, always interested in a troubled bad-boy type.

She stares at me with narrowed eyes of disapproval and scoffs, “oh my God… never ask me that again.”

“He must’ve showed up and gone between visions,” I determine. “I wasn’t able to check in much after you started at UC. Which reminds me, your roommate Kathy- not a fan of her,” I confess with a bit of humor.

“Turned out to be a demon,” Buffy explains, much to my surprise.

I gasp, “no way! Ugh, I saw you move-in, some interactions here and there, but that’s about it. I knew there was something up with her!”

Buffy laughs, actually smiling for the first time since our reunion. It feels great having someone know I’m a witch who isn’t a witch themselves. Being away in New York with the coven was great and utterly freeing. They were the first people who I showed my true self to. Now, finally, someone I care about knows the real me. I have so much more to share with her!

Buffy takes my hand gently, “I’m really glad you’re here. Lately… lately things have been more difficult than I could’ve ever imagined,” she confesses, swallowing back her tears and looks at the ground. “With Mom and protecting Dawn, I’m not sure I can do it all on my own. I mean, I have my friends, Giles, and Riley but…” she meets my gaze, tears puddling in her eyes. “I needed you, I just didn’t quite know it. I needed my other sister,” she weeps.

Immediately, I pull Buffy into my chest and hug her tightly. I should’ve come sooner. I should’ve felt Buffy’s pain. I guess I was so caught up with the coven and I forgot to check on her, so I missed the signs. I’m here now, that’s all that matters. Now, I can help. Seeing Buffy so upset makes my blood boil. Anyone who fucks with my family gets knocked off this planet, which means Glory has another coming at her in the form of a powerful witch.

__________________________

Masterlist

#spike #btvs #fanfic #spikexreader #dawn summers #buffy #buffy s 5 #buffy summers #spike fanfic #spuffy #spike x buffy #spike x reader #btvs imagine #btvs fanfic

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calpalirwin · 3 years

Text

Better Now

Summary: Putting yourself back out there after a heartbreak is never easy, but you and Ashton are learning that it’s worth it.

A/N: Big thanks to @jessalyn-jpeg for listening to me cry over Taylor Acorn songs while I figured out how to combine her latest releases into 1 fic.

Word Count: 2.6k

And away, and away we go!

Aside from the composition book that lay open on the coffee table, the recording room was empty. Face contorting in curious confusion, Ashton picked it up, thinking one of his bandmates had left it behind. But as he caught a glance at the words sprawled across the lined pages in black inked handwriting he didn’t recognize he knew he should have closed it. Songwriting was a very personal thing, and he would hate for anyone to find his own songbook lying around and read the contents. But the words jumped out at him, and he found himself taking a seat, still holding the notebook open in his hands.

“And no one comes to save you, you learn to save yourself. The world, it just keeps going on while you’re going through hell. No, it’s not all that it’s cut out to be. ‘Cuz you can’t hide behind the silver screen. Love ain’t like the movies.”

“Jesus…” he whispered to himself.

“Excuse me?” a female voice asked from the doorway, and Ashton jumped, snapping the notebook shut.

“Uh…” he stuttered, staring at the woman with her hair messily thrown up, dressed casually in jeans and a tank top, a tired but wild look in her bright eyes. “Hi. Can I help you?”

She adjusted the guitar case strap on her shoulder. “Uh, I hope so? A notebook? Standard composition notebook. Black and white colored. Probably impossible to distinguish from any other black and white standard composition notebook. I know, super helpful description. You haven’t happened to see one lying around here, have you?”

“Like this?” Ashton asked, flashing the notebook in his hand.

“It would look exactly like that!” she brightened. Then, her smile faltered. “But that one’s probably yours, isn’t it?”

“Uh, actually no. It was on the coffee table when I came in. I, uh, thought it might be one of my bandmates, but it’s not their handwriting.”

“Oh, so you read it?” she asked. No anger or embarrassment. Just clarifying a fact.

Ashton rubbed at the back of his neck. “Sorry… I didn’t read a lot. Just enough to realize the handwriting was different.” He held out the notebook to her for her to take. “It’s uh, good by the way. Whatever you’re working on. Relatable.”

“Thanks,” she said, taking the notebook from him and flipping through the pages to confirm that it was in fact hers. “I really need to keep better track of my shit… Thanks for finding it.”

“Yeah, ‘course. And sorry again for reading bits of it.”

She waved a hand at his apology. “Oh, it’s fine. My fault for leaving it lying around. Sorry you can relate to it.”

Ashton shrugged. “Heartbreak: part of the standard human experience. Some of your lyrics actually remind me of a song my band put out once years ago. At the time I considered myself lucky to not be able to relate to it. But seeing yours… which is far more poetic than anything four teenage boys could come up with… I’m glad for songs like that. Makes you feel a little less alone in the drowning.”

“Yeah, I’m hoping this helps me at least start to tread water again. How long ago was the heartbreak for you?” she asked, then shook her head. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that. I should probably be going anyway. Let you get back to your shit, and go off to deal with mine.”

Ashton chuckled. “Nah, it’s fine. It’s been about four months for me. So still recent enough to sting like a bitch.”

She smiled and laughed a bit at his words, but there was a sadness to both. “Two and a half months for me. So just enough to actually drag myself out of my bedroom.”

“And down to a studio where some jackass reads your most personal feelings. Awesome…”

There was a bit more realness to her laugh this time around. “Honestly, not a problem. It’s meant for people to hear, you know?”

“I suppose that’s true. I’m Ashton, by the way.”

“Y/N.”

“Good luck with the song, Y/N. Feel better soon, yeah?”

“Thanks. You too.” She turned to head out of the room, before pausing and turning back around. “What was that song? The one your band made that you couldn’t relate to at the time?”

Ashton’s cheeks turned pink. “Oh. You don’t wanna hear that one, trust me. Cringey teenage attempt at being emo punk.”

“Damn… Emo punk is my favorite.”

Against his better judgement, Ashton pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Alright,” he gave in, pulling up the song. “But you’re not allowed to make fun of me. Like I said, this was years ago.”

Y/N held out her pinky finger. “No judgement, swear.”

Ashton linked his own pinky with hers, and hit play. For the next three and a half minutes he watched her carefully as she stood there with her eyes closed, nodding her head along with the beat. On one hand, he was glad her eyes were closed because it meant that she couldn’t see him watching her, or see his embarrassment. But on the other hand it meant that he had no clue what she was thinking. He hit pause before it could replay again. “Like I said, some of your lyrics have a similar feeling,” he said with a shrug.

She opened her eyes as she nodded. “Yeah, I see what you mean. About thinking you’re getting the fairytale movie ending one second, and the next the ending is anything but happily ever after. Was one of those solos you?”

He shook his head. “Nah. I’m the drummer. So-”

“Lots of back up,” she interrupted with a knowing nod. “Is it because you don’t sing at all? Or just out of convenience?”

“Mostly convenience. In our earlier days we used to split up singing pretty evenly. And then we all got more comfortable in our roles. But I still sing from time to time in more than a back up way.”

“That’s cool. And I bet it makes recording stuff and everything so much easier. I have to do a lot of borrowing or outsourcing to get all the sounds I want.”

“Not in a band, huh?”

“Nope. Just your regular solo artist.”

“That’s gotta get lonely.”

“It can be. But it also means making things in my vision, and not having to compromise on that.”

“Well, if you ever need someone to lay down some drum tracks, or just some company so you’re not drowning alone, I’m here most of the time.”

She nodded, understanding what he wasn’t saying about an intrinsic need to stay out of the house as much as humanly possible. Away from the memories that haunted every aspect of being awake. “Thanks, Ashton,” she said, once again turning to leave, but found herself turning back towards him, another question on her lips. “Do you mind if I ask you something personal?”

“Go for it.”

“What’s the hardest part of breaking up? Of trying to move on, and feel like yourself again?”

“Honestly? Waking up, and seeing that empty side of the bed. Hits you like a freight train all over again. That kind of overwhelming sense of dread that you’re never gonna feel normal again.”

“But then you get up, and try anyway, hoping that today it hurts just a little bit less than it did yesterday.”

“But it doesn’t, and you start to lose hope that the pain will ever stop.”

“That’s the hardest part.”

“The fuckin’ worst. But hey. It can’t suck forever. Or, that’s what I keep telling myself anyway. That’s what finally gets me out of bed.”

“And hey! Maybe I'll get a hit song out of it in the process, too.” She feigned a smile, flashing her notebook.

“Oh, that’ll be a hit, no question about it.”

“Thanks. For uh… well everything, I guess. See you around, Ashton.”

“Good luck, Y/N.”

~~~

Y/N eventually did get the courage to ask Ashton for both his company and musical help, on a day when she found it harder than normal to get up out of bed.

She trudged her way into the studio, spotting him watching a coffee pot in the common living area. “Oh, hey,” he smiled warmly as she pulled open the fridge. “Making a fresh pot if you want any.”

She shook her head, grabbing a water bottle and taking a few sips from it. “Can I get your help today?” she asked in a low whisper, hoping to hide the wobble in her tone.

“Yeah, of course. Everything alright?”

She shook her head again, then wordlessly left for her recording room.

“So, what’s up?” Ashton asked when he found her a few moments later, cup of coffee in hand.

“You’re not allowed to judge me for any vulnerability today.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good. Because this verse is gonna be really hard for me to record.”

He nodded, taking a seat while she set up behind a microphone. A soft guitar track started playing, and when she took a breath, Ashton prepared himself for lyrics of her most recent break up. So when her soft voice started singing, “ ‘Cuz after my dad died, even though she never let us see her cry, my mom was broken inside, ‘cause she just lost her best friend. Why don’t they prepare you for that? When the picture perfect life you had goes black,” to say he was shocked was a bit of an understatement.

There was a click of the track, and the guitar stopped, the headphones settling around her neck. “I’m sorry about your dad,” he spoke up softly. “I- that’s gotta be rough.”

“Most of the time it’s a dull ache. A small hum I can ignore if I don’t focus on it. But there’s a few days where the pain is all fresh, like I’m learning the news again for the first time. A shock to the system.”

“I like the juxtaposition of it all. Most of the time when people think of love gone wrong, or ending before we’re ready, it’s the break up. Because the alternative… it’s…”

“Unfathomable.”

“Yeah. It’s a pain that I can’t imagine, that’s for sure.”

“Lucky you.”

He chuckled slightly. “Nah. Not in the way you think. My own experience is fucked, but in the other direction. He left and never gave a shit.”

“That’s rough.”

“It was, yeah. I guess the small benefit is that I was too young to remember him leaving. So for me, he’s always been gone. Haven’t ever known anything different.”

“See, I’m grateful that I at least have my memories of my dad. Even if he’s been gone longer than I had him. But it’s like a double-edged sword. The memories bring some peace. But it also fuckin’ sucks that they’ll never be anything more than that. That I don’t get new ones.”

“Well, I dunno if talking about him helps you at all. But if you want to, you can.”

“You don’t mind? I don’t wanna bore you, or make you jealous.”

He patted the empty spot on the couch next to him. “C’mon, you asked for my help. Let me help.”

She gave a small laugh before moving to sit next to him. “Remember, you’re not allowed to judge me for being vulnerable.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He listened as stories of her childhood fell from her lips. He offered her up the box of tissues on the coffee table when her words got choked, and would gently prompt her into continuing when she stopped to apologize. He provided her with stories of his own childhood when her own stories grew too painful to share, confiding in her the way she was confiding in him. And when the sun started to cast long shadows across the room, maybe not a lot of work had been done when it came to her song, but Ashton had helped her nonetheless, and both of them felt a little lighter than they had been in a while.

~~~

Help in the form of company was given with much less hesitance after that, with Y/N and Ashton seeking each other out with regularity. Some days would be spent with the two barely exchanging a word as they played out various melodies, or wrote new lyrics. Other days were filled with endless chatter as they shared ideas they had, and provided ideas on how to overcome any blocks in creativity, or just swapped more stories. And other days still, he would help her work on her song.

When Y/N finally finished her song, Ashton was the first person she thought of to share it with, dragging him excitedly into the room with her. “Jesus, this is the happiest I think I’ve ever seen you,” he teased with a giggle.

“Do you wanna hear the song or not?” she asked.

“It’s done?”

“It’s done!”

“Well, hit play! C’mon!”

For three and a half minutes they stood in the middle of the recording room while her song blasted from the speakers.

“Well?” she asked expectantly when silence overtook them once more. Then, more quizzically, “Why are you staring at me like that?”

He had an amazed smile on his face, dimples cratering his cheeks, and a soft shine in his eyes. “Staring at you like what?” he asked in response.

“Like you wanna… I dunno… kiss me or something…”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips. Then the soft look was melting away into confusion. “Cuz sometimes I think I want to.”

“And other times?”

“I talk myself down because I’m not sure what I want, or what I feel. We’re both still getting over people who caused us a lot of damage. And I don’t always feel like I’m ready to think about starting a relationship with someone new. But I also know that I’m never going to be ready until I actually start doing it. And I really like the friendship we’ve built the past couple of months. I feel more like me when I’m around you. Like, not only am I no longer drowning, I can actually feel the bottom. But I don’t know if those feelings come from being around someone who can relate to what I’m going through right now, like some weird trauma bond. Or if it’s real “I like you’ feelings. And it’s not fair to you for me to not know.”

She nodded, both understanding what he was saying, and what he wasn’t saying. “What if I kiss you instead?”

“Please, don’t.”

“Because you’re scared we’ll hurt each other? Ash, if we don’t at least try, then we’re never gonna know what’s real and what’s not.”

“It’s partially that. But also… If we end up kissing… I’m not going to want to stop.”

“Then you better not be a lousy kisser.”

~~~

7 Months Later

Ashton got a small flash of deja vu as he saw the black and white composition book lying open, the beginnings of a song scribbled across one of the pages. “Just another hopeless broken heart cliche. And all my fairytale ambitions, I just watched them wash away.”

“Y/N?” he called out, curious to learn where this song was going, and also where his girlfriend could be hiding. “Babe?”

“But it’s too late for sorry baby, even if you’ve changed. I’m not letting myself break down, count me out. Oh, I’m better now,” her voice sang softly as it came down the hallway with her, a black pen twirling between her fingers. She paused as she spotted him standing there with her notebook, a smile lighting up her face. “Hey, you.”

“Hey,” he matched her smile, handing her the notebook and pressing a kiss to her head. “That’s nice. Whatever you were just singing. What inspired this one?”

“Just reflecting a bit on this past year,” she told him, as she quickly wrote what she’d been singing in the notebook before the lyrics left her head.

“Feeling a lot better these days, huh?”

“Better than I’ve ever been.”

Tag List

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#better now #ashton irwin #ashton irwin fic #ashton irwin x reader #5sos #calpal irwin

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votederpycausemufins · 3 years

Note

You have no idea how much i enjoy your shared space au

Well I'm glad you do! Here’s some writing for it based on a certain stream of Ranboo’s. But he’s not the only one learning the lessons this time.

When Mumbo wakes up, he realizes that he’s holding an axe and looking down at a baby ziglin. No, not just any ziglin. It’s Michael. The past few days have been rough for him being stuck in someone else’s body at all. He tried once or twice to do redstone, but ended up covered with dust, and trying to wash it off almost burned because of Ranboo being at least part enderman. Usually, that was when Ranboo seemed to disappear, which Mumbo usually worried about. Especially right now.

Putting the axe away, Mumbo pulled out a golden apple and Michael’s attention was immediately grabbed by it. “Hello Michael. How are you this morning?”

Michael snorted in reply and Mumbo handed over the apple, the ziglin just happily holding it to stare at the glittering fruit. He then showed it off to his pet chicken and the two went around the room, making Mumbo smile before he tried to nudge Ranboo awake, if he was even there. ‘Hmm? What is it? I’m up.’

‘Ranboo.’ Mumbo carefully said. Thought? Whatever. ‘That meeting with Foolish about the mansion is today, is it not?’

Mumbo could feel a jolt of panic as Ranboo was suddenly much more awake and in control of their shared body. “Right! We- I need to talk with Foolish. Go over things before I get the payment all figured out. So I’m going to go over there. Uh, I’m going to see you later.” And Ranboo walked towards the trap door exit, bumping into the pet chicken for a moment before moving them closer to Michael and then opening the door. He fumbled as another chicken came up the ladder just as he attempted to go down, though he managed to close the door again. “Huh. Well I guess Michael has a new chicken now.”

‘Ranboo. The mansion and Foolish.’ Mumbo reminded, making Ranboo look towards the front door.

“Right! Here we go!” The enderman hybrid nodded before going outside, his eyes almost immediately seeing the giant build. Mumbo saw it too, and the large build made him homesick for a moment. It didn’t quite look like what the hermits tended to build. To him it just felt a bit lacking. He supposed that was because it wasn’t really lived in yet, but after always seeing Grian’s mansion, this one just didn’t seem as grand. On the other hand, Ranboo had no memory of anything this large and didn’t really know about the things the hermits did, so he was simply in awe at the giant build.

Finding Foolish was a slight chore due to the interior of the mansion being a bit of a maze in Mumbo’s opinion. Ranboo’s too on a second thought, now wondering if maybe it was a bit too big. But before long they found the god and even had a bit of cake to start their meeting. After that they were walking through the empty rooms, Foolish giving suggestions on each one they entered.

Mumbo was half aware of the suggestions of a war room, map room, reading room. But his mind was just thinking of redstone contraptions to fill the place with. A large room could be good for a sorting system. A super smelter would be nice to have. A melon and pumpkin farm in one room with a trading hall nearby.

Mumbo was pulled out of his thoughts briefly by the mention of a chandelier and immediately he rolled his eyes remembering Grian’s diamond one in his own mansion. It didn’t seem like that would be the best to have around here, but they could try something similarly fancy. And then they were talking about a secret room.

There was plenty of fumbling to actually find the secret room, Mumbo trying his best to help just getting them more lost, but eventually they arrived at the walled off room. Mumbo let his mind wander, trying to think up a redstone door to fit the wall and space. He was half aware of Ranboo fumbling over some words and memories, trying to talk to Foolish, but he wasn’t sure it was his place to get involved. At least until he was dragged in.

‘Mumbo. What’s the green card deal?’

“The what?”

‘Wait, green cardboard box one.’

Confused, Mumbo stopped thinking about redstone and listened to the god in front of them who was now whispering. “Cuz you know, We’re only supposed to talk about it at a certain location.”

Mumbo got another question from Ranboo, but he didn’t have an answer. “I don’t know what he’s talking about. I’m sorry.”

Ranboo started to make excuses and try to play along, pretending he knew what was going on as both he and Mumbo tried to wrack their brains on what was being talked about. They followed Foolish down to the entrance, listening to him talk, but then Mumbo felt Ranboo start fading. He went to mentally shake the hybrid awake, scold him for getting bored so quickly, but then he gasped in shock as he suddenly felt like he had a splitting headache.

He wasn’t really paying attention as Ranboo took them elsewhere, he and Foolish soon in Michael’s room. They talked for a bit before Ranboo asked for Mumbo to make up some sort of excuse. The redstoner fumbled with one, but the god seemed to accept it without too much hesitation, and then they were out of the room.

“Ranboo, what was that?”

The hybrid didn’t immediately answer, just walking until they were out of hearing range. Then he stopped in the middle of the hall. “I remembered something.”

Mumbo was worried for a second that Ranboo was heard, but was glad to see that wasn’t the case. “What do you mean? Is it about whatever Foolish was talking about?”

“No. It was.” Ranboo gave a frustrated sigh. “That thing. What was it supposed to be?”

“Ranboo, what’s going on?”

“What was that supposed to be? C’mon. Think, think, think, think, think. Lesson fourteen. Oppor- What deal did I make with Foolish?”

“I don’t know. Ranboo, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just- It’s- I’m just a little light headed right now. That’s all it is. Nothing to do with all those experiments I’ve been doing.”

“The what?! Ranboo?! What do you mean experiments?!”

“Well, I haven’t been doing them that much with you around. But it doesn’t matter. There would be no side effects to them. Absolutely none.”

Ranboo continued to walk, reaching a yellow building decorated with alliums. He tried changing the subject, talking about how he needed to finish the build, and then the headache was back. Mumbo felt like he was scrambling to find something to hold onto and brace himself against whatever was going on. It wasn’t until Ranboo spoke up again that he realized things were clearing, but he was still too much of a mess to comprehend what was being said.

“Ranboo. I think you should go home. You obviously need it. I’m sure Foolish won’t be too upset if he sees you going home to get some rest.”

“No. No. It’s fine. It’s nothing. It’s um, it’s nothing! Can’t be anything because, uh, it has- No, no. It’s fine. It’s fine.” Mumbo went to say something else, but then Ranboo stopped in place and spoke again. “Lesson twenty-seven? How many lessons are there?”

“Ranboo?”

“No. He’s still in prison.”

“You mean Dream?”

But Ranboo just kept talking to himself, ignoring Mumbo. Eventually another bout of pain came, Mumbo struggling against it. When he came too again, Ranboo was saying he was fine, making Mumbo pipe up. “Ranboo. You’re not fine. For all we know this is some side effect of me being stuck in your mind.”

Ranboo stopped walking. “I think I need to tell people.”

“Yes, that sounds like a good-”

“I think I need to tell people what I’ve done.”

That caught Mumbo off guard. “What you’ve done? Ranboo what am I missing here? What did you do?”

“They wouldn’t hold it against me, right?”

“Ranboo, I need more context. For a simple answer, I believe it depends on who you tell, but I still don’t know what thing you’ve done.”

Ranboo just kept walking aimlessly. “No, I should tell people what I’ve done. Sure, they might be mad for a little bit, but at least then they’ll know. I can trust them I think.”

“Again, that depends on-” Mumbo started to reply before he was once again struck with pain. It didn’t last too long, and there was silence as he recovered. Ranboo hadn’t moved far, so hopefully he hadn’t missed much again.

“Unless… Unless I can’t.” Ranboo said, before giving a shuddering sigh. “What… What do these mean? And why are there fifty-three of them?”

“Ranboo. I need you to calm down. Explain what’s going on.”

“Does it mean that I’m not- That I know more than I already thought?” He paused for a moment before shaking his head, trying to sound positive. “No, no, no! I just have to- No, I just have to block it out. No I just have to, I just have to block- block them out. I just have to- No, I just have to block them out, because... it’s what I’ve been doing this entire time. I mean, the experiments have been doing well. I mean, I figured out- I figured out how to cause it! So why…?” He sighed again. “I… I thought that… I knew that there might be side effects, but I… didn’t think that… I didn’t think that this is what it would be.”

“Ranboo. We should go back to your home.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“It’s obviously not fine!”

“No, it’s fine. I’m doing-” He took a deep breath to calm himself. “Okay. It’s fine! It’s fine.”

Then Ranboo’s eyes locked on the prison in the distance. That worried Mumbo even more, so he spoke up a little. “Ranboo, you’re not planning to…?”

The hybrid shook his head. “No. No, no. I promised myself I wouldn’t let that happen. I promised myself I wouldn’t go in there.”

“Good, because I don’t think visiting him would be the best plan. Just because he’s the admin doesn’t mean he would know what’s going on or even try to help.”

“Okay. Okay. It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine. ‘Kay.” And then Ranboo stopped walking and slowly turned to face in the direction of the prison again.

“Ranboo. No. We are not going to the prison.”

Ranboo nodded. “Okay. Okay. Yeah.” he agreed. “No I don’t- I should just- I need to go home. I just need to go home.”

“Yes, that is a great idea. Go home, spend some time with Michael, call Tubbo if you need more support, alright?” Mumbo suggested, glad that Ranboo finally seemed to be calming down.

“If- If I- I should just get home. I should just get home.”

“Yes, exactly. Just head home.”

“Just g-” And Ranboo’s panicked spiked and Mumbo was in pain once more. This time he tried to fight against whatever it was, and while he wasn’t able to make much headway, he was able to catch one thing.

“Lesson sixty-seven? Ranboo what is that?”

“Leave no evidence of what you have helped with.” Ranboo answered in a somewhat dark tone. “Evidence of…. Evidence of what?”

“Ranboo we need you to go home now.” Mumbo said seriously. Something was definitely absolutely completely wrong now. “Stop thinking about it and just go home. If not, I’ll have to take control myself and force us there, do you understand?”

“What did I do?”

“Ranboo.” Mumbo said harshly, hoping to get the hybrid’s attention, but to no avail.

“No, no. It’s just- Oh! I’m hungry! That’s why! That’s all it is!” Ranboo said before eating a few baked potatoes.

“Ranboo. This is not just because you’re hungry.”

“It’s just because I haven’t eaten! It’s just because I was a little hungry.”

“I know that you don’t believe that.” Mumbo said. “You’re just trying to convince yourself that’s what’s going on but it’s not true. Ranboo, something is wrong and you need to go home. You need to go home right now, do you understand?”

“Or it could have something to do with the experiments you idiot!” Ranboo yelled, more at himself than Mumbo. He was quiet after that, Mumbo not speaking up to give him a moment. Then he spoke again in a sad tone. “I knew. I knew that if I experimented on it- If I tried to control it, then there might be side effects, but I don’t want these.”

“Ranboo…”

“It’s fine! It’s fine! I don’t even know what these are!” He cut Mumbo off with a chipper tone. “I don’t even know what these are, okay? It’s fine. I can just go home and- I can just go home and it’ll all be fine.” Even though he was trying to convince himself that, Mumbo could hear the hybrid’s worry. “God, it was going so well too. I was fine. I just wanted to figure out how to stop it from happening. And then I screwed it all up again.”

Mumbo tried to comfort Ranboo, noticing that the hybrid was on the verge of tears. He spoke in a calm voice, trying once more to convince Ranboo to just go home. But again, the hybrid tried to pretend everything was fine and go about his day. Any time Mumbo tried to say something, he was talked over by Ranboo trying to pretend everything was fine.

Then, Mumbo noticed as Ranboo seemed to stumble over his words and stop in place, the same he did when the pain was about to happen. He braced himself just in time for whatever was happening, resisting the waves of what was causing him pain, able to fully catch what was going on. A message seemed to be sent to him and Ranboo mentally. ‘Lesson 94: DO NOT LET THEM KNOW WHAT YOU HAVE DONE.’

“Ranboo… Ranboo what was-”

“I have to go to the prison.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s… It’s my fault Tommy got stuck in there. I’m the reason he ended up dead. I mean, I don’t remember what happened, but it had to be me. I found the TNT, and there were explosions and-”

“Ranboo calm down! You’re just panicking yourself more.”

“It was the fourth book. It was the fourth book.”

“What was the fourth book? Ranboo I still have barely any context.”

“Please Mumbo, I need to go to the prison. It was the fourth book! God! I have to go to the prison! I have to- I have to go to the prison!”

“You need to go home!”

“No! I have to go to the prison! Now! I- I have to talk to Sam. Please I have to talk with him.”

Mumbo was reluctant, but agreed. “Alright. Fine. We can talk with him, and then you need to go home.”

Mumbo did his best to keep Ranboo as calm as possible as they went towards the prison. It didn’t do too much, but he managed to keep the hybrid from completely breaking down. When they were just about at the prison, Ranboo saw Sam and Mumbo could feel the hybrid relax just from seeing the man. Ranboo called out Sam’s name until he turned around, wondering what the hybrid needed.

“Oh, hey Ranboo.” Sam said, his calm voice very different from Ranboo’s breathless words.

“How- How are you doing?”

Sam paused, obviously picking up on Ranboo’s panic. “I’m… good. How are you?”

“Doin’ good.” Ranboo replied, and Mumbo was half tempted to forcefully take control right then and there so the hybrid wouldn’t dance around the truth.

“Well, I’m just cleaning up a bunch of holes around the prison. Trying to clean it up.”

“Oh yeah, that’s great. Uh, um… I need to go in the prison Sam.”

“You what?” Sam asked, shocked, while Mumbo said the same thing in a more exasperated tone. “No, Ranboo this is not what we agreed to. You were just going to talk with Sam and then we were going home.”

“I need to go in the prison Sam.” Ranboo repeated, more confident this time. “I need to go in.”

“You need to go in the prison?” Sam asked, sounding a bit skeptical. “N- Wait, what do you need to go in the prison f- You don’t need to go in the prison Ranboo. You can’t. We’re not- No one’s allowed to visit the prison Ranboo.”

Mumbo sighed, glad that Sam wasn’t going to let Ranboo in, but then the hybrid spoke up again. “I know that, but I need to go- I need to go in, Sam! You don’t understand, I need to go in! Please!”

“Ranboo… Are you okay?” Sam asked, sounding worried, and Mumbo mentally facepalmed as Ranboo said he was fine when it was still very clear he wasn’t.

“Yeah no, I’m fine. I uh, I just fell in some water on the way here. That’s all. I’m fine. I need you to let me in the prison though.”

“Are you sure you’re alright though?”

“Yeah, I’m completely okay. I just need you to let me into the prison. Please.”

“I’m not letting you in the prison.” Sam replied, trying to sound serious, but concern still coming through. “You told me yourself, you didn’t want to go into the prison.”

“I know.” Ranboo started, sounding frustrated. “But I’m also telling you now, to let me in!”

There was silence for a few moments and Mumbo was worried that Sam was about to say yes. But thankfully, he didn’t. “I’m not going to let you into the prison Ranboo. You know what happened the last time someone was let in the prison. No one can go in the prison.”

“Please Sam. Why not? Why not? Why not?!”

“You told me yourself to keep you away from the prison.”

“I know, but I-”

“-You thought it was dangerous. You said Dream was dangerous, that we need to keep everyone away. That’s what you said. You told me that.”

“Yeah, but I’m telling you now Sam.” Ranboo started, and finally Mumbo understood what was going on. Not wanting to keep dancing around, he pushed Ranboo out of control and spoke himself, trying to hide his accent and sound as flustered as Ranboo was. “I want to be put in the prison. As a prisoner. I don’t want to be a visitor, I want to be locked up.”

Sam was quiet, stunned by the statement. Mumbo carefully gave Ranboo control again, the hybrid mentally thanking him as they waited for Sam to respond. “W- What?”

“I need to be put in the prison.”

“No. No Ranboo. You don’t need to be put in the prison.” Sam’s serious tone switched out for a worried and concerned one. “What are you talking about?”

“No, I do.” Ranboo said, shaking his head as he disagreed with the warden. “I need to because-” And suddenly the words refused to come out. Ranboo was just as surprised as Mumbo was, trying again. “I need to because-” but his mouth shut itself. “Because you don’t know what Drmm…”

“Ranboo?”

“I…. I can’t tell you why.” Ranboo said instead. “I just need you to trust me. Please Sam, put me in the prison.”

“Ranboo, I’m not going to try and lock you in the prison. You don’t need to be in the prison. It’s dangerous. You said yourself that no one should be going in there.”

“No! I mean-! As a visitor! But I want to go in as an inmate!”

“Ranboo, I’m not going to lock an innocent person into the prison.”

“But I’m not-!” Ranboo said, once again on the verge of tears.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong Ranboo.” Sam said, the slightest bit of a different accent creeping its way into the words. “What’s going on with you? Do you need to talk?”

“It’s- I can’t tell you! I can’t tell anyone! I only managed to tell Mmm… To tell Mmph… I just can’t tell anyone!”

“O-okay.” Sam tried saying in a calm tone. “Okay I get that. Are you alright? Just tell me, are you alright?”

“I don’t know anymore Sam.” Ranboo said, and then Mumbo fet the slight burning that came from Ranboo’s tears. “But… please Sam, please! Please, I’m begging- Please just put me in the prison!”

Sam continued to refuse as Ranboo begged to be put in, trying to hand over his gear to the warden. He begged and shouted and yelled and pleaded, asking to be put in there, maybe just for a few years to keep people safe. But Sam still refused, saying if someone asked to be put in, they likely didn’t actually need to be put in prison.

“Ranboo. There’s nothing you could do that would make us- would make me put you in the prison. I will not let anyone else into this prison with Dream. Because of what he does.”

“Please, you need to put me in there. There is a reason.”

“No there’s not.”

“No there is! There’s so many of them! There’s… there’s ninety-three of them Sam! There could even be hundreds of reasons. Thousands...”

Sam put his hands on Ranboo’s shoulders, one hand gripping a bit tighter than the other in such a familiar way to Mumbo. “I look at you, and I can’t see any reasons why you would need to be locked up in a place like that, alright? No one like you needs to be in this prison. You are not being put in there.”

The two of them stared at each other, Ranboo not caring about the discomfort of eye contact. After a few seconds, the hybrid gave the smallest of replies with a very quiet ‘please’. And then before Sam could say no, Ranboo got another idea and was talking again. “What if-! What if I paid you? What if I paid you to put me in the prison, huh? Would you- Would you do it then?”

“No. There is nothing whatsoever that would get me to put you in a prison like that. That’s meant for dangerous people and you are not a dangerous person. Not like Dream is. You haven’t done anything wrong. Most likely you’re imagining it. I think you should go home and get some rest, especially since it looks like we spent most of the night talking.”

Ranboo looked up to see light starting to appear from the sunrise. Mumbo also tried once more to convince Ranboo to go home, and that seemed to finally get through to the hybrid. He started nodding a little, Sam sighing in relief, but then Ranboo changed his mind. “What if I put myself in Sam?”

“You can’t get in there Ranboo. It’s closed right now.”

“Really? What if you forgot? Huh? What if you left it open?”

“No. Ranboo, I am not locking you in there. You’re a good person.”

“If I’m a good person, then you can trust me and you can trust my judgement.”

Sam cursed a bit, sounding a bit inhuman with a hiss. “No. No. Ranboo, you're a good person, but right now I don’t think you’re in the right mindset. You should get some rest and I’m sure you’ll realize you don’t need to be locked up.”

“But I’m blwnnn… I- I’ve blown… Man, I… I can’t say it.” Ranboo sighed, looking down at the ground. While Mumbo didn’t want them to get locked up, it was clear to him that this was eating Ranboo up. “I think I’m the one who bl-” and then it felt like there was someone clamping down on this throat. It felt cold, like falling into the void, but also felt like a shackle holding him down. He wanted to claw at his throat, but Ranboo was in control again and Mumbo had no body of his own.

He barely paid attention to the conversation until Ranboo started to walk away. “Fine. Fine. I’ll go. I’ll go home. Okay… you have no idea what you’ve done. I… I’m not a good person. I really don’t think so.”

Ranboo walked until he was out of Sam’s hearing range and then he stopped again. He looked down as his fists, which were balled up in anger and shaking a bit. “I know what I need to do.”

“And what’s that Ranboo?” Mumbo asked, hoping it was to finally go rest at home.

“If I’m not going to be put in there, I at least need answers. And the only way to do that is to keep experimenting.”

“What?! Ranboo, no! For all we know your experiments are the cause of all this! You can’t just torture yourself and hope it works out.”

“Well what am I supposed to do? I can’t trust myself to not hurt anyone again!”

“But you can trust me.” Mumbo said quietly.

“What?”

“You can trust me.” Mumbo said louder. “If… if Sam won’t let you into his prison, then we’ll build you one for yourself. We can gather up the redstone supplies we need and I can build you your own personal cell. We’ll tell Tubbo enough so that he can make sure you don’t get out and keep you fed, alright? Does that sound good?”

Ranboo paused, thinking it over before nodding. “Okay. Yeah. We can do that. You… you’re really going to build it?”

“Yes.” Mumbo replied. Was he lying? Only slightly. They would build a cell but he would make it complicated so that hopefully it never got finished and would just exhaust Ranboo so he couldn’t do anything dangerous to himself or others. He could do this. It was just like boring someone to sleep with redstone explanations, just a bit more complicated. “So, let’s get ready to go mining.”

#hc x dsmp #shared space au #mumbo jumbo #michael underscore beloved #ranboo #foolish gamers #awesamdude #docm77 #enderwalking

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