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courageous-she · 3 years

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Extracurricular- Charlie Gillespie

Teacher!Reader x MusicTeacher!Charlie

Word Count: 2707

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! Just wanted to say thank you for all the love on “Needing You”! I wrote this up, a little self-indulgently, but hope that some of you will find some enjoyment from it!

It had always been your dream to be an elementary school teacher. For as long as you could remember, you would play school with your American Girl Dolls or stuffed animals as your students. When the time came for college, you’d picked a program that would allow you to get your Master’s quickly. After student teaching and some substituting, you finally had your own fourth grade classroom.

You hadn’t been at your school long, seeing as it was only October, but you’d been there long enough to meet some of the other teachers. You got along well with your team teachers, and even made a few teacher friends you could hang out outside of school with.

It was a Wednesday and for some reason your students had more energy than normal, and it was taking a toll on you. Luckily, they had Music in a few minutes, so you decided to end the lesson early and have them start getting ready for the special. They were quiet in the hallway, giving you a quick break before dropping them off at the music room.

“Hey, fourth grade!” the music teacher, Mr. G said with enthusiasm as your class approached. You students began to file into the classroom, high-fiving or fist bumping Mr. G as they passed. “Hey Ms. Y/L/N.” Mr. G said more softly to you.

“Hi Mr. G. They’re a little more energetic than normal today.” You said, providing a well needed update on the class. Mr. G smiled, chuckling lightly at the statement.

“Nothing I can’t handle I’m sure.” There was a short pause before he continued, “Got any plans this weekend?” he asked you. This weekend was Halloween and you wanted nothing more than to spend it on your couch with a bottle of wine.

“I was just going to drink some wine and watch a movie.” You replied honestly, “Why? Have something in mind?” It wasn’t unusual for Mr. G, or you could probably call him Charlie, to ask you about your plans. A little harmless flirting was normal between the two of you seeing as you were the only two 20 something teachers in the school.

“I had about the same idea in mind. Would you maybe want to drink wine and watch a movie together?” He asked, a smirk playing on his face. As you were about to respond, one of your students came over and grabbed Charlie by the hand, tugging him into the classroom. You smiled and let him know that you would text him before letting him go to teach the class.

You: 7:00 my place?

You sent the text to Charlie, having had his number from staff meetings. The two of you liked to text during the meetings instead of actually paying attention. You didn’t expect a response right away anyway considering he was teaching your students. You took the 40 minutes your kids were at music to sit in the quiet and grade some classwork.

When you went to pick your class up, Charlie was waiting by the door, your class lined up behind him.

“7:00 sounds perfect. I’ll bring the refreshments” he said quiet enough so the class didn’t hear.

“I’ll text you my address” you said, smiling, “Alright friends, what do you say to Mr. G?” you asked, addressing your class.

“Thank you, Mr. G!” rang out in unison by your students.

“Bye guys! See you later!” Charlie waved, again high-fiving some kids on their way out. You turned around as your class walked to the end of the hall and Charlie shot you a quick wink before heading back into his classroom. Friday night couldn’t come soon enough.

*****

When Friday night finally did come, Charlie texted you around dismissal to make sure your plans were still on.

You: Definitely! But I hope you know I will be in my baggiest of sweatpants

Charlie: Glad we’re on the same page, I don’t wear real clothes outside of school, its sacrilegious

You chuckled at the text, making sure to send Charlie your address and apartment number. Your students filed out one-by-one until it was only you left in the classroom. You made sure to shut down everything and turn off the lights before making the quick trip to your car.

Once home, you threw your work clothes into your hamper and got into your designated sweatpants. Knowing that you were having company later encouraged you to give your apartment a good clean, something you hadn’t been motivated to do recently. You lived alone, but you preferred it that way. Sometimes after a long day of school it was just easier to come home and not have to talk to anyone about your day.

Soon enough, the buzzer in your apartment was ringing signaling that Charlie was downstairs waiting to be let up. You pressed the button to unlock the main door and waited by your front door for his knock. When it came, you opened the door to see Charlie carrying a large pizza, a bottle of wine, and bag of Halloween candy.

“You came prepared Gillespie” you said, taking some of the items from his hands. He kicked his shoes off by the door before following you into the small living room. You set the items down on the coffee table before getting comfortable on the couch, Charlie following suit next to you.

“I told you I’d bring the refreshments, didn’t I?” He asked, pulling a corner of your blanket over his legs. You laughed, grabbing the remote and turning the tv on. Once the Netflix screen showed, you passed the remote to Charlie who gave you a confused look.

“I can’t decide on movies for the life of me, so this one’s on you” you said, opening the pizza box and grabbing a slice. You ate and watched as Charlie flipped through the movies, settling on a horror film. “Should have guessed you’d try to kill me tonight” you laughed.

“Hey, when you put me in charge of the movie, you can’t complain about what I pick” Charlie laughed, opening the bottle of wine.

“Oh! Let me get us some glasses,” you said, starting to remove the blanket from your lap. Charlie’s hand stopped you from getting any further.

“I’m fine with drinking out of the bottle if you are…” he suggested. You shrugged, not really caring about sharing the bottle with him. The two of you settled into the couch, eating pizza and sharing the bottle of wine. You definitely jumped at some parts in the movie and Charlie laughed at you each time.

About halfway through the movie, the both of you had finished eating and were now resting comfortably on the couch. However, the movie only began to get scarier as a really gory part showed on the screen. You jolted with surprise and shoved your face into Charlie’s neck, hand gripping the shirt material on his chest.

“You can’t really be scared of this!” Charlie laughed.

“Of course, I’m scared!” you replied, voice muffled by his skin. Charlie only chuckled and wrapped his arms around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him.

“Don’t go in there!” you shouted a few moments later to the girl in the movie.

“Of course, she’s going to go in there!” Charlie retorted, “it’d be no fun if she didn’t”

“Who said any of this was fun” you replied, getting ready to hide your face against Charlie again, “I can’t watch.” Again, Charlie pulled you closer, protecting you from the demons on the screen.

As the movie ended, you let out a sigh of relief. You quickly stood and made your way over to your fridge, pulling out another bottle of wine.

“After that movie, I need more of this, and a new movie to forget that one”

“I’m down for another movie. But you’re choosing it this time” Charlie said, grabbing the bottle from you and taking a sip. As you scrolled through the choices, you landed on one that had made you cry the first time you watched it.

“Okay, Gillespie.” You said, selecting the movie and hitting play, “Time to see you cry”

“Oh, I don’t cry” Charlie said, a smirk on his face. You made a “let’s see about that” face and the two of you settled in to watch the movie.

As the sad part began to get more intense, you stole a glance over at Charlie. You could see tears slowly cascading down his cheeks.

“I thought you said you didn’t cry” you joked, pushing on his shoulder with your own. Taken aback by the fact that you’d noticed him, Charlie quickly began to wipe the tears from his face.

“I’m not crying, my eyes are sweating.” He replied.

“Sure, tough guy. Don’t worry about it, crying is manly” you said, leaning into his side. He chuckled at you before pulling you closer to finish the movie.

*****

Two movies and two bottles of wine later, you stood to throw out the empty pizza box and candy wrappers.

“Shit, I didn’t realize how late it was. I should get going” Charlie said, looking at the time on his phone.

“You’ve been drinking, Charlie, probably not the best idea to drive right now” you said, holding up the two empty wine bottles. Charlie gave you a knowing look.

“Let me see if my roommate is still awake, maybe he can come grab me” But before you could even let Charlie unlock his phone to text his roommate, you blurted out a proposition.

“Or you could just spend the night here” You stared at Charlie, shocked the sentence even left your mouth. It was probably the alcohol that helped. Charlie looked at you, making sure he heard correctly.

“I mean, if you’re cool with me crashing on your couch…” he spoke slowly.

“Oh no, you can’t sleep on that. It may be good for sitting but if you sleep on it, you’ll wake up with a broken back. My bed is big enough, we can share…. If you’re okay with that” you quickly added. Charlie mumbled a quiet ‘yeah’ before helping you clean up the rest of the mess. As you made your way into your room, you turned on your bathroom light. “I have an extra toothbrush you can use,” you said, handing Charlie the blue toothbrush.

The two of you stood side by side in the bathroom, looking at each other in the mirror while brushing your teeth. As Charlie finished, he made his way back into your room while you took a moment to wash your face. When you walked back into your room, Charlie was sitting on the edge of your bed scrolling through his phone.

“You didn’t have to wait for me to get in bed” you laughed. Charlie sheepishly looked up at you, locking his phone and putting in on the end table.

“Wasn’t sure what side of the bed you normally slept on” he replied. You went over to your side of the bed and got under the covers. Charlie followed suit on the opposite side of the bed. You clicked off your side lamp and turned to face Charlie.

“Sorry in advance if I kick you in my sleep” you said.

“If you kick me, we’re going to have a problem” Charlie laughed. It wasn’t long before the two of you dozed off comfortably facing each other.

*****

You woke up the next morning to your head resting on Charlie’s chest and his arms wrapped tightly around you. You laughed at the sleeping boy, noticing that he was no longer wearing a shirt. You tried to get out of bed without waking him, failing as his arm only wrapped tighter around you and a low groan came from the boy.

“Where’re you going?” he asked, voice low and eyes still closed.

“I was going to go make us some breakfast” you said. Charlie turned so his body was now facing yours, eyes still closed, and arms remaining around you.

“Five more minutes” he grumbled. “If you leave, I’ll be cold” he whined. You could only laugh.

“If I don’t get up, then you won’t have anything to eat in five minutes”

“I’ll buy us breakfast if you promise not to move” he said, voice low and soft. You replied with a quiet ‘okay’ and began to get comfortable.

“One thing though” you said, Charlie hummed in response, “When did you take your shirt off?”

“’mm like 2? Not sure, does it matter?” he asked. You mumbled a small ‘no’ not wanting to admit that you liked the feel of his warm skin against yours. You snuggled into him, hands reaching around and lightly dragging up and down his back. When you thought he’d fallen asleep, you let your hands stop, but when Charlie’s hand reached around to grab yours, mimicking your earlier motion, you continued.

You hadn’t realized that you’d fallen asleep, but you woke up in the same position, only this time Charlie’s fingers were lightly grazing up and down your back.

“Mornin’” he hummed, “Didn’t think you’d fall back asleep, did ya?” he teased. You lifted your eyes to meet his, taking in his bed head as well.

“Well, if you’d have let me get up the first time, I could have had breakfast ready for you” you mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“Breakfast is ten minutes away” Charlie said, brushing your hair away from your face. You looked up at him, a little shocked he’d woken up and ordered breakfast. Your eyes met his and you watched as his fell to your lips. Your breath hitched and before you knew it, Charlie’s soft lips were on yours.

It was gentle and quick, too quick if you were honest. But having kissed him once already now, you worked up the courage to kiss him again, this time taking the lead. You moved so that you were straddling him, his hands quickly finding a home on your hips, rubbing small circles on the skin under your shirt.

A moment later, you found yourself lying on your back, Charlie hovering over you. He only pulled away when his phone buzzed from next to you. He quickly checked his phone, looked at you, and placed a quick kiss on your cheek before getting up and pulling his sweatshirt on. Just as quickly as Charlie had gotten on top of you, he was off and out the door.

Sliding out of bed, you threw on your sweatshirt and padded out to the kitchen. The front door opened and Charlie came in carrying two bags of food.

“What the hell did you order, Char?” you asked, grabbing a bag and beginning to open it. All kinds of breakfast foods laid out in front of you. Two arms landed their way on either side of you, locking you between him and the counter.

“Char?” he asked, voice low in your ear. Your face was warm as you turned around in the small space you had, noticing the smirk on the boy’s face. You weren’t sure how to respond, the nickname just kind of slipped out. But before you could respond, Charlie’s hand gently held your chin and his lips met yours once again. “Don’t worry” he said against your lips, “I like it”

He quickly lifted you onto the counter, slipping in between your legs and placing another kiss against your lips. The two of you stayed like that for a bit, tasting each of the foods that Charlie had ordered.

*****

As the two of you cleaned up the kitchen a little while later you asked, “So, am I going to have to compete for your attention at school?” Charlie gave you a confused look, not sure what you meant by that statement. “Considering how all the fourth and fifth grade girls have the biggest crushes on you?” you asked, a smile playing at your lips.

Charlie chuckled, coming over to rest his hands on your hips, forehead resting against your own. “You’re the only one who gets this kind of attention” he quietly said before placing a kiss on your lips. You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for more.

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givelove-always · 4 years

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I Love Him Not, I Love Him

A/N: Hi! This is my extremely late entry for @bucky-smiles’ 2K Bollywood Writing Challenge (I’m so sorry for the delay aahhh!)! My prompt was one of my fave songs, Subhanallah from Yeh Jawaani Hai Deewani, so that’s what this fic is loosely based on! Also a big thank you to @parkerpetey for taking the time to edit this and leave hilarious comments throughout the Google doc, ilysm for that. I hope you enjoy!

Summary: The three times you didn’t accept that you were crushing on Peter, and the one time you did.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 7.3k words

Warnings: None, just tooth-rotting fluff and reader being frustrating :)

Something everyone talked about, yet nobody really talked about, was how being the new student in the school, especially given that it was your senior year, was ridiculously tough.

You had recently moved from Toronto to Queens, and you absolutely despised it. You’d spent three extremely long years at your old school creating a name for yourself, be it through your strong academic scores or your commitment to numerous extracurriculars. You weren’t exactly popular, but were definitely spoken of quite highly if you were brought up in conversation, regardless of whether it was teachers talking or your fellow students. You were on the perfect path to becoming valedictorian of your class.

… Until you were uprooted and brought here. Sure, your dad really pulled all the strings he could to help you secure a spot at Midtown, especially given that it was senior year - it’s hard enough as is to secure a spot in freshman year, what with it being insanely competitive and for genius students and all, and while your grades were stellar, it would’ve still been close to impossible securing a spot - and you really appreciated it, but that didn’t mean that you still didn’t miss your school and your friends back in Toronto.

It felt like everyone was talking about you - who was the new girl? how did she manage to get a spot three years after everyone else? was she genuinely smart, or was there some other way she got in? - but at the same time, it felt like you were invisible. People wanted to know more about the circumstances surrounding you than know more about you as a person.

With every day that you went to school and came back home after unsuccessful attempts at restarting your social life and making friends, your morale was deflating. As much as you tried to push it aside, the pang in your chest was becoming more and more undeniable when you constantly saw people surrounded by their friends, laughing and chatting, while you sat to the side all by yourself.

Even then, it was all bearable. Just one year here, and then you could go make friends in university, where life would practically be a clean slate - a fresh start for everyone. Who knows, maybe you could even go back to Canada to a university where some of your old high school friends would be attending. You kept telling yourself that everything would work itself out, and if it had to be after a year of loneliness, then so be it.

The only thing that still felt terrible were the daily walks to and from school all alone. Back in Toronto, you and your best friend would always text each other in the morning to try and coordinate the time that you’d leave so that you could walk together, chatting each other’s ears off the entire way there. If you had time in the morning, you’d often even stop by the Tim Hortons on the way and get yourselves a little breakfast.

Here in Queens, there were tons of cute little cafés and little convenience stores and such on your way to school, and while you would still often stop by to pick up a quick snack or drink (or even just to say a quick hello to Mr. Delmar, the kind man who owned the little sandwich shop around the corner, and pet his adorable little cat), it never was the same as going with a friend. That constant loneliness started to change though when one day, you left home and arrived at Mr. Delmar’s shop earlier than usual.

one

It had been a long night with very minimal sleep. You were up working on a Physics assignment until almost five in the morning and you knew that if you slept then, you wouldn’t wake up in time for your morning classes. The extremely prominent bags under your eyes stood as proof of your exhaustion and you had no energy to make yourself breakfast, hence your early arrival at Delmar’s.

You sat at a little table by the window observing the street outside. Most people look at the way others are dressed outside as an indication of the weather. You, on the other hand, liked to think of it as more of a personification of the weather. If the chilly November weather were to be a person, they would definitely be one of those speedy walkers roaming the streets in some fuzzy boots and a trench coat.

As you sipped on your hot chocolate and tried to assign a more rounded personality to the November weather for no reason other than trying to wake yourself up, the sound of the bells chiming as someone entered the store caught your attention.

Peter Parker.

He was that really smart kid in your Physics class - the one subject you were struggling in. You knew him from that one time you guys were paired up for a quick chemistry lab, but you didn’t know him know him. You remembered vividly and appreciated how nice he was the whole time - it was difficult to find that over the last few months. Either that, or you just somehow managed to keep getting paired up with the wrong people.

You realized you were staring at him when you saw him facing and waving in your direction.

That was unusual, nobody ever really seemed to acknowledge you.

You turned to see if there was someone behind you he might have been trying to talk to, but very quickly realized that you were seated in the corner when your eyes were met with nothing but the plain white wall. ‘Stupid move,’ you told yourself. ‘How do you just forget that you’re sitting next to a wall?’

Grimacing a little, you turned back to face him and waved at him. You gave him a small smile, which he very politely returned before he went up to place his order.

‘Great, you can’t even greet a person normally. What is wrong with you Y/n? This is why people aren’t trying to befriend you right now, if-’

“Hey, do you mind if I sit down here?” a slightly timid voice interrupted. Your eyes locked with Peter’s as your head shot up.

“Oh! Um, yeah- I mean, no! I mean, no, I don’t mind, go ahead!” you stuttered, feeling all the blood rush to your cheeks.

Peter let out the softest giggle you have ever heard as he sat down, and if you didn’t have such sharp hearing, you were sure you would have missed it.

“How are you? How are things going?” he asked as he set his sandwich onto the table.

“Oh, well, they’re going,” you smiled and shrugged. “This point in the semester’s always a little crazy, but it’s not the worst. How are you doing?”

“Yeah, it does get hectic around this time,” Peter sympathized, scrunching his nose slightly in an effort to show mutual distaste over the stress. “I’m not too bad, just really tired from working on that physics assignment. How’d you find that?”

“Oh my gosh, don’t ask,” you groaned, rolling your head before laying it smack against the table. “I literally cannot physics, it took me forever to complete it, and I’m still not confident about a solid chunk of it.”

Peter let out a laugh at your reaction, the sound falling like music onto your ears. You discreetly peeked up from your position on the table to look at his undoubtedly glowing face, and the image you were met with was nothing short of beautiful. His eyes were scrunched up and his perfect teeth were on full display, cheeks turning redder by the second. The sunlight falling on his brown curls gave them a softer hue and made them look even softer than you’d already imagined them to be. Nobody had ever looked this angelic.

It was a sight you wouldn’t mind getting used to.

‘Wait, what? Why did you just think that? Y/n you barely even know the guy, stop being creepy!’

You pulled yourself out of the trance and slowly sat back up, giggling lightly to avoid making it obvious that you had just been staring - that would be awkward to explain.

“I’m sure you did just fine,” Peter chuckled. “And if anything, physics isn’t my worst subject, so um, if you want, I’d be more than happy to help.”

“That’s very sweet, thank you Peter, I appreciate that more than you realize,” you smiled, picking up your backpack. “I hate to cut this conversation short, but we need to start heading to school soon if we want to get to class on time.”

“It doesn’t have to be cut short!” Peter said abruptly standing up, catching you off-guard a little. “I-I mean, we could walk together if you’d like? No pressure though, it’s totally cool if you don’t-”

“Of course, I’d love that,” you cut him off with a smile.

“Okay.”

“Okay,” you nodded. “Let’s head out?”

“Yeah, just hold on one quick second,” he said as he quickly rushed over to the front of the shop.

Eyebrows furrowed, you followed him, only for your expression to instantly morph into one of awe as you were met with Peter petting Murph, Mr. Delmar’s cat, before he jogged back to where you were standing, a goofy smile adorning his face. “I’m ready now.”

Saying a quick goodbye to Mr. Delmar, the two of you made your way out. You shivered a little as the icy wind hit you. Peter picked up on the way you tried to discreetly rub your hands together, your outfit not doing nearly enough to cope with the sudden sharpness of the atmosphere, but stayed quiet, not knowing if it was appropriate to say something or not.

“So you’re a cat person, eh?”

“I’d say so, yeah. I’m just as much of a dog person too, though. Murph trumps all other animals though - I’ve been seeing him since Mr. Delmar got him, and he’s so adorable,” Peter gushed. “What about you, a dog person or a cat person?”

“Oh, a hundred percent a dog person, though I would make an exception for Murph, he is pretty cute,” you chuckled. “My best friend back in Canada has the sweetest little puppy named Maple and I practically lived at her house for the sole purpose of playing with him. Her uncle would drop off his two poodles occasionally too when he was travelling, and there was no way to get me out of her house when all three puppies came together.”

“Maple? That’s the most Canadian thing I’ve ever heard, I love that!” Peter physically had to stop for a minute because he was bent over letting out what could only be described as a ‘hearty laugh’.

If it were anyone else, you would most certainly be offended - what was so funny about having a pet with a stereotypical Canadian name? - but Peter exuded an aura of kindness and innocence, and despite only having spoken to him for such a short period of time, you knew his intentions were nothing but pure. Also, you had to admit, it was a little comedic how stereotypical the name was.

“Anyway, speaking of Canada,” he spoke through light chuckles once he’d calmed down a little and you both continued walking, “I don’t mean to be intrusive, and you definitely don’t have to answer if you’d rather not, but um, how come you transferred here senior year? Was it hard to get in? How did that work?”

“No no don’t worry, you’re not being intrusive at all, I don’t mind! Basically…” you started your not-so-entertaining story of how you ended up at Midtown, and no matter how many times you stopped yourself to apologize for how “boring” you were being, Peter assured you that you were anything but.

The long walk to school couldn’t have been long enough, because you were at your locker way too quick for your liking. And judging by the way Peter stayed with you as you grabbed your stuff and offered to walk you to class, he felt the same way.

You found yourself beginning to set your alarm for just a little while earlier than usual that day onwards, and morning walks together became more common as the month went on. Sure, you adored your sleep, but having a potential chance to run into Peter and walk to school with him again? It was worth it.

Despite having only briefly known him, there was a sense of comfort that you felt in his presence. He made you feel like you could share anything with him. Everytime he smiled, forget full-fledged laughed, you felt like maybe, just maybe, things were going to be okay for you.

To top it all off, it didn’t hurt that he was more than easy on the eyes. Those gorgeous eyes and that cute button-nose, not to mention his beautiful brown curls? You wouldn’t mind signing up for that one bit.

‘Y/n, stop. No. He’s just your friend. He’s just being nice, and you’re just happy you have a friend. You do not see him in that way - there is no chance of anything along those lines happening. You just haven’t had much interaction with people and now you’re playing up a friendship because you have nothing better to do. You do not like him.’

You reminded yourself that every time you caught yourself looking at him for even a moment more than what would be acceptable when you conversed. Peter was a great guy, but you guys were just friends, and you intended on keeping your feelings about him that way.

Besides, the reason you were down to lose some sleep wasn’t just being able to walk into school with Peter. You always had a problem with getting to school just in time to catch the bell, and this gave you an excuse to be more timely.

That’s all it was. A friendship and a way to be more punctual. Not anything more than that.

***** two

“Peter,” you clutched your stomach, loud laughter escaping you, “I’m literally going to pee myself!”

“Y/n, stop entertaining him or he won’t stop making those terrible jokes,” Ned groaned.

Peter had introduced you to his best friends Ned and MJ about three days into your friendship, once you’d gotten the remainder of your paperwork after your transfer completed and could finally sit with the rest of your classmates for lunch, and you’d all instantly clicked.

Here you were, two months later. Colourful lights shining all around you, the sound of squeals and laughter from a multitude of people constantly surrounding you, and a game to play every few steps you took - not to mention the numerous prizes waiting to be won.

Ned has suggested that the four of you go down to the arcade nearby to destress after the exhaustion of your end-of-semester exams, and you all had instantly agreed.

As much fun as you were having playing the different games and winning all those tickets with the people who had grown to be your closest friends, what was absolutely making your day was the way in which Peter would just not stop making hilarious puns and jokes.

“You’re just jealous you’re not as cool or as hot as me,” Peter playfully scoffed and made exaggerated hair-flip movements, grabbing your hand as he dragged a giggling you to the next game. “Come on Y/n, they’ll never know what it’s like to be iconic.”

“Woah Peter, what’s gotten into you today?”

“I’m just happy. I’m a happy boy. A happy boy who’s happy about being at this arcade with his wonderful friends because it’s a happy environment,” he glanced at you over his shoulder as he put in the tokens to play basketball.

You chuckled as you reached out to playfully pull his cheeks. “Well, happy boy, let’s win this thing and win it together. In case you didn’t know, my basketball skills are somewhat impeccable.”

“Y/n, you literally can’t walk five steps without tripping, it’s pretty hard to imagine you being any good at a sport that involves a lot of running,” he sassed.

“Ah, well that right there is the thing - I’m incapable of walking. When it comes to running, I’m a whole other ball game. Basketball game, to be more specific,” you spoke slowly, nodding your head wisely to emphasize your wisdom.

Peter let out a wheeze neither of you had expected, and it sent you both into a fit of laughter. When Ned and MJ made their way over to you a few seconds later, all they saw was the two of you clutching your stomachs, faces red and laughter escaping your throats as though you’d just rewatched another one of those ridiculous ‘5-Minute Crafts’ life hacks.

In the midst of the hysteria, as Peter went to slap his knee, he accidentally slammed the Start button on the game. The ever-so-jolly-yet-ominous-sounding countdown of the machine finally pulling you guys out of your bubble.

“Oh my gosh Peter stand up, it’s starting!” you exclaimed through giggles, smacking his arm repeatedly with the back of your hand to get his attention.

“Oof okay okay, let’s do this thing!” Peter rubbed his palms and cracked his neck, getting in a serious stance and grabbing the first basketball that came through the machine before tossing it straight into the hoop.

“My turn, my turn!” You shoved him with your hip playfully to make room for yourself and get a better angle to shoot.

Ned and MJ, who had been standing close behind and observing this all go down, just looked at each other, heads cocked to the side. Claps and cheers when the other one scored and purposeful bumps into each other every single time you switched, given you guys’ speed and surprising accuracy, were all they could see and hear.

“The two idiots… they really don’t see it, do they?” MJ questioned, looking between the both of you, genuinely puzzled.

Ned groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. “Dude, I swear I can and will cry right now if they don’t stop playing this ‘you’re just my best friend’ game, I’m so tired of it.”

“Are we gonna say anything to them to make them ‘fess up though?”

“Nah, I kinda wanna watch it play out, as much as it exasperates me,” Ned shrugged.

“Alright Petey boy, you wanna take this jackpot shot or do you want me to?” you looked over at him and asked. “No pressure buddy, but it is an extra five hundred tickets.”

“All yours, m’lady,” he curtly bowed, drawing a laugh from you.

You took your stance, legs slightly spread apart and knees bent just a little, preparing for the big shoot. You grabbed the final basketball, dribbled it on the ground twice, and tossed it, aiming straight for the hoop.

“She shoots,” Peter commentated, watching the ball leave your hands, “and… she scores!”

You let out a squeal and jumped straight into Peter’s arms, giving him the biggest hug you could possibly render. Peter caught you and spun you around, cheering and laughing all the while as the machine spewed out your tickets.

“Okay kids,” MJ called out, pulling you both out of your little moment of euphoria. “Chill for a second and pick up your tickets because I will gladly take them if you don’t want them.”

You chuckled her comment and separated from Peter before quickly walking up to grab the tickets. “Hey, Peter and I worked hard for these, back off,” you playfully pouted, hearing Peter chuckle from beside you.

“Okay okay,” Ned laughed. “MJ and I are done with our tokens, are you guys ready to call it a day and get the prizes too or..?”

“I’m ready to go, Y/n?” Peter asked.

“Yup, I’m done too, let’s go.”

You all made your way over to the corner of the arcade where you could total up your tickets and redeem them for prizes. Despite your constant refusal, Peter not only let you take the entirety of the tickets you both won from the basketball game instead of splitting them, but also gave you all the tickets he’d earned that day so that when combined with yours, you’d be able to get the adorable person-sized teddy bear you were planning on saving up for.

Ned decided to splurge on a number of small prizes, like the classic ginormous plastic sunglasses and little notepads, while MJ got herself a Rubik’s cube and a sticker that said “Caution: Falling Rocks”. Nobody knows why she picked that one in particular - she’d simply shrugged when Peter had asked her about it.

You felt bad that Peter didn’t end up getting anything, but he insisted he was totally cool with it. Something about “not having any more space for obscure things to stuff in my cupboards anyway.”

“Guys, I’m hungry,” you said, bringing the attention to you while you all headed out of the noisy arcade. “Let’s go grab a bite somewhere?”

“Ooh yes, I know this place that’s only like five minutes from here - Ned and I went there like last week. It’s-”

Thud.

Peter never really got to finish that sentence. He was walking backwards, trying to make eye contact with the three of you while relaying his expertise on the restaurants in the area, but the man-child had tripped over his own two feet and landed flat on the ground.

“Oh my gosh, are you okay?” you all rushed over to him.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” he assured you guys as he grabbed Ned’s hand and pulled himself up, dusting off his jeans.

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you right then. “Hey Pete, what was that you said earlier about me not being able to walk five steps without tripping?”

“Hey, cut me some slack, okay. MJ’s sticker said ‘falling rocks’ and I was just testing the validity of that statement. Now, with experiential evidence, I can confirm that it is, in fact, false.”

You and Ned burst out laughing at what was probably Peter’s only good joke all afternoon. MJ rolled her eyes, but even she couldn’t stop the smile that took over her face.

You all started to head towards the restaurant Peter suggested, Ned leading the way.

“Hey Y/n?” Peter leaned over.

“Yes?”

“Did you lose an electron? Because you’re positively glowing.”

“Oy smarty-pants, make your own puns, don’t steal them from your t-shirt,” you chuckled, shaking your head. You increased your speed and walked up ahead to where Ned was walking to join him and, hopefully, prevent Peter from the bright red that overtook your features from that one little out-of-nowhere compliment.

You and Ned were joking around about the events of the day and how much fun everything was, and as much as you enjoyed Ned’s company, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander a little.

Why did Peter have such an effect on you? How was he able to make you feel so giddy - all he did was give you one punny compliment and you were blushing? How come this never happens with anybody else?

‘It’s because sometimes you just click with some people more than you do with others. Yeah, that’s what this is. That’s all it is. You just click with him slightly more than you do with the others, and so his compliment is just a little bit more meaningful in that sense,’ you rationalized.

That’s definitely all it was. A strong friendship. Not a crush - definitely not a crush.

***** three

It was the end of senior year, and you were finally in Europe for your long-awaited senior trip that the Midtown teachers had organized for your graduating class.

You’d managed to fall sick on the second day of the trip, but despite the absolute nightmare that all the nausea and headaches had been, it had luckily turned out to only be a 24-hour bug, and you’d been up and running, ready to explore the place by the next morning.

Ned and Peter shared a room while you and MJ shared another, and while the four of you would occasionally hang out in each other’s rooms when you weren’t already out and about, Peter had insisted on practically staying in your room when you were sick so he could take care of you.

You’d pushed them all out of the room to go out and have fun, or even just go sit in the other room so they wouldn’t accidentally contract whatever it was you had.

Peter, though, just would not listen - he kept taking MJ’s keycard and coming in to check up on you, making sure you were hydrated and had everything you needed. You’d woken up the morning after to a number of texts from Peter, scattered at different times throughout the night, telling you that he hoped you were feeling better and reminding you that you could call him if you needed anything, no matter how late or early it was.

You’d made it known to him the next time you saw him how much you appreciated him doing that, but also how you wished he’d have slept without worrying about you so much.

He’d only smiled in response.

Once you’d gotten better - which luckily was by the next afternoon - the four of you would spend time in one hotel room all evening. Watching movies together, having popcorn fights, or just talking, laughing and reminiscing about the year that had flown right by you.

During the day, you would all go out and explore whatever city you were in, making sure to cover all the general tourist attractions and getting tons and tons of pictures with and of each other. MJ had become your unspoken designated photographer, capturing breathtaking candids of you all whenever she got the chance.

Mr. Harrington had mandated that anybody who went out to explore or do something that wasn’t on the itinerary report back to the hotel by sunset so he could keep track of everyone, so you would always make it a point to be in your rooms by then.

Most people stayed out anyway, but not the four of you - you didn’t want to worry the poor man. He worked hard all year too, and he was kind enough to supervise this trip - the least you could all do was ensure that you weren’t burdening him with any added stress.

Occasionally, you would end up getting back to the hotel earlier than others in your group. Sometimes, MJ would want to wander by herself, and Ned would try to approach and converse with Betty, who he found really cute.

Times like that, you and Peter would be the only ones in your respective rooms. The very first time that happened, you both very quickly realized that if you were in that situation, boredom would usually follow very soon.

So the next time onwards, even if none of the others were there, you and Peter would just hang out together in one of your rooms. It didn’t really matter what you were doing - just being in each other’s presence made things fun.

It was guaranteed, though, that obscure things would always happen when it was just the two of you left unsupervised. One time, Ned walked into his and Peter’s shared room only to find you and Peter in the midst of a very soulful rendition of A Whole New World from Aladdin - complete with exaggerated dance moves and hairbrush-microphones. Another time, MJ returned from her walk to a nearby park to you and Peter indulged in a heated discussion about whether pop tarts should be considered a sandwich or ravioli.

The four of you would often stay up until odd hours talking about anything and everything. The later it got, the deeper your topics of conversation would get. They would go from sharing nostalgic memories from your childhoods to passionate conversations about how many pets one could get before they’d be considered too many.

One of those days, when you had a one hundred percent free day because the event on your itinerary got cancelled, MJ and Peter decided they wanted to go visit a museum. Ned brought up that he wanted to go shopping around the city instead, and since you were planning the same, the two of you went out together.

You and Ned decided to hop onto one of those red double-decker buses, because if you’re a tourist in London and don’t get on one of those buses even once, are you really a tourist in London? Since neither of you had anything specific you wanted to shop for or any specific place in mind, you decided to take a random bus and get off wherever you felt would be worth it.

After about fifteen minutes of looking around at the hustling streets, you finally passed through an area that seemed to be filled with a variety of stores, making it the perfect place for some obscure shopping.

You both walked around, entering random stores whenever something in the display caught your eyes and buying random articles of clothing. At one point, you found a really cool thrift store and decided to style each other - the results being surprisingly more wonderful than either of you had expected. You both did an impromptu ramp walk for each other, filling the trial rooms with the sounds of laughter and giggles.

As the evening started to set in and the gorgeous colours started to take over the blue sky, you decided that you should start heading back to the hotel soon. It wasn’t too far from where you were though, considering the fact that a quick fifteen-minute ride would get you back, so you two did have time to stop by one or two more stores quickly if you wanted to.

As you strolled around, looking at the displays to see if there was something you might like, a pretty off-white floral sundress caught your attention. “Ned, can we go in here? I want to try this dress on!” you said as you tapped him excitedly on his shoulder.

He agreed, and as soon as you found the dress and tried it on, you absolutely fell in love with it. It was just the right length for your preference, and fit your body just right. In fact, it would even go perfectly with the adorable cross-body bag you’d picked up earlier in the day. You didn’t have to think twice before heading to the cash register to buy it and officially make it yours.

“Today burned a hole in my pockets, but it was so much fun Y/n, thanks for coming with me,” Ned said as you both got seated on the bus.

“Hey, of course! I had so much fun too! It was so refreshing to, thank you for letting me try on eight thousand different things,” you grinned.

The two of you continued conversing and joking around as the bus slowed down at a stop to let passengers on and off.

“Man, as great as museums are, nothing beats the joy one gets from mindlessly shopping - those two definitely missed out on some hilarious jokes and the best fashion show of the century,” you chuckled, making a reference to your antics back at the thrift store.

Ned laughed, shaking his head.

You relaxed in your seats, just letting the feeling of the wind flowing through your hair encompass you. The slight coolness of the evening breeze was euphoric yet also grounding in a sense, and you wanted to let it consume you for as long as possible.

“Y/n, can I ask you a question?” Ned softly broke the silence.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“You like him, don’t you?” he smirked.

You turned to look at him, eyebrows furrowed. “Like who?”

“Come on, don’t act so oblivious,” Ned laughed. “Peter - you like him, right?”

“Uh, yeah, he’s one of my best friends, so I definitely do like him?” You were genuinely confused at this point.

“No Y/n, I mean like like. Like as in more than a friend,” he clarified.

You froze for a split second and the heat rushed quickly to your face for reasons unknown to you. Almost too quickly, you responded, “What? No! Why would you think that?”

Ned rubbed his face, groaning. “Y/n, why are you both so ridiculously oblivious?” He had no clue how both you and Peter, two people so hopelessly crushing on each other, couldn’t see it.

“Wait, what do you mean?” you questioned.

Ned couldn’t stop the knowing smirk that overtook his features at the quizzical look on your face. He wanted to see two of his best friends happy together, but he needed you both to figure out your feelings for each other because it would be unfair of him and MJ to try and get you both together before that happened.

In this moment though, the utter cluelessness in your eyes was absolutely comedic to him.

“Oh, would you look at that, it’s our stop!” he quickly picked up his bags and walked off the bus, leaving a very perplexed you to follow him.

You pestered him to explain what he meant by that the entire way up to your respective rooms, but he wouldn’t do anything but grin. Your split-second panic and silence, combined with the redness of your cheeks as soon as he’d asked you about Peter was confirmation enough for him. He’d lit the spark, the questioning, inside of you, and that was all he felt was appropriate for now. Now, you needed to let it grow into a full flame and come to terms with your feelings.

“Bye Y/n! I’ll see you in a little bit!” he waved at you as he quickly slipped behind his door.

You groaned, stomping back to your room. You tossed your bags to the side and flopped right onto the bed.

‘Why was Ned asking me that? What did he mean by saying Peter and I are ‘oblivious??’ And why did I panic? Is there a chance that I- No, don’t finish that thought. Y/n, Peter’s just your best friend - feelings involved make things messy. You know what though? You don’t have to worry about that, it’s fine, because you don’t have feelings for him anyway. It’s all good. You’re just best friends, it’s nothing more than that, for sure.’

You lay there, staring at the ceiling, and rationalizing whatever supposed “feelings” you had for Peter until you heard MJ swipe her keycard. In walked both Peter and MJ, and you watched as his eyes lit up as soon as he saw you.

You felt your lips curve upwards into a smile, and before you could even realize that your body was moving, you had both engulfed each other in a massive hug.

That was normal though, right? You would hug MJ right after that too - you always hugged your friends. That didn’t mean anything.

Ned was probably just fooling around. Yeah, that’s probably what it was. One of his extended pranks. That explanation made sense.

Either way, you know what your feelings for Peter are: platonic. Absolutely, positively not anything other than that.

***** one

The day you’d been dreading was finally here: the end of your senior trip.

You were in your hotel room, zipping up your suitcase and making sure you had packed all of your belongings.

“I guess this is it, huh?” you squeaked out.

Hotel rooms had become your home for the last almost two months. They were where you and three of the closest people in your life right now spent so much time together, laughing, crying, just enjoying each other’s presence. Now, you were being made to say goodbye to that, and it was too soon for your liking.

“It is, yeah,” MJ gave you a small smile. “Don’t be upset about it though, we’ll all still be together and go out all the time once we’re back.”

“I know, I just…” you sighed. “I just liked this whole ‘no-other-responsibilities-to-tend-to’ version of going out. Time really does fly when you’re having fun.”

MJ placed the last of her clothes in her suitcase and zipped it up. “Well, at least it was fun while it lasted, right?”

You nodded. It was fun while it lasted. Was it insanely tiring walking around every single day because there was always so much to do? One hundred percent. Was your sleep schedule messed up from staying up late hanging out with your friends and waking up early to go grab breakfast and get ready for the day? More than ever before. Would you trade the experience for anything else in the world? Absolutely not.

You did one final sweep of the room to make sure you’d grabbed everything you’d brought in. “Ready to go?” you asked as you placed your suitcase upright on the ground.

“Yup, let’s head downstairs before the bus leaves,” MJ chuckled, shaking her head. “I am so ready to sleep in my own bed again.”

You laughed and grabbed your keycards. MJ placed the remote back on the TV stand and wheeled her luggage out the door and you followed suit, pulling the door shut behind you. Once you double-checked that the door had been locked properly, the two of you headed down to the lobby, where you were supposed to meet the rest of your classmates.

Dropping the keycards off at the front desk, you made your way over to where you could see most of your cohort already gathered.

“Oh good, you’re both here,” Mr. Harrington checked your names off his list. “The only ones left now are Flash and Brad. They’d better come down soon, wouldn’t want to- ah! There they are!” he marched over to where the two boys were.

“Wow, I don’t think I have ever seen him look that relieved. Is it just me or did he get taller?” you heard a voice approaching you.

Peter.

There he was, walking towards you, wearing that blue checkered shirt that looked oh-so-good on him. Something about him today hit you differently. You couldn’t put a finger on what exactly it was, but it was safe to say that you felt your heart skip a beat at how amazing he looked.

“As much as I hate to say it, I agree with you,” MJ joked. “Crazy what lifting some weight off your shoulders can do for you.”

“Crazy how quickly this whole trip is already over,” Ned spoke. “I don’t know if I’m ready to go home yet.”

“Oh hush, just last night you were on the phone telling Betty that you couldn’t wait to take her to the movies once we’re all back in Queens,” Peter quipped, effectively making Ned blush and all of you laugh.

The aura of the lobby was very mixed. On one hand, the atmosphere felt lively as people chatted with their friends about all the fun times they had over the last few weeks, about the constant highs they all felt. On the other hand, there was a certain longing in most people’s eyes, a willingness to hold on to this feeling for just a little longer.

It was a very bittersweet vibe, and very understandably so.

“Alright guys, um- hey, can I get your attention for just a minute please?” Mr. Harrington squeaked. He raised his arms up to try and grab everyone’s attention, and to his own surprise, it worked.

“So, basically, I just wanted to say thank you to every single one of you for attending this trip, and I hope that it was a great experience for you all. Our bus should be here shortly, but before we go, I was hoping to get one quick picture with the entire group, if that’s okay?” After confirming that nobody had an issue with it, he handed his camera over to one of the staff members from the reception desk, who quickly snapped a wonderful picture of you all.

He thanked her, and then went outside to check for the bus.

“Looks like there’s still some more time before we leave,” you stated, peeking out through the glass windows and noticing the absence of a bus.

“Judging by the way Mr. Harrington’s seeming frustrated, I’d say you’re probably right,” Peter chuckled. “Hey, let’s get some pictures of our own in the meantime, I still have some film left on my camera!”

You, Ned and MJ agreed, and Peter pulled out his camera from his carry-bag. You all took turns posing with each other, starting off with simple smiles, but progressively getting goofier and sillier until you’ve hit the point where you were just standing in the middle of the lobby recreating iconic memes, sending you all into fits of laughter.

“Okay, okay, enough of this,” Peter giggles, still coming down from moments ago when he was guffawing at your attempt to recreate that one young Cardi B picture. “Let’s get some group shots now.”

MJ quickly asked Yasmin, another one of your classmates, if she’d be okay with getting a few shots of them and explained to her how to work the camera.

You went to grab a sip of water and stood off to the side, letting the three have their moment. They’d been there for each other for four years, and while you were all close now, you’d only come into the picture recently. You wanted to let the squad - the original squad - get some pictures too, you’d been in enough with them already, it was okay.

Ned said something which you couldn’t hear, but it drew out undoubtedly heartfelt laughs from the other two. Eyes scrunched and faces radiating with nothing but joy, Yasmin saw this as a perfect moment to capture, and you saw her take what you were sure would have turned out to be an amazing candid.

Yasmin went to hand the camera back to MJ, but Peter quickly stopped her.

“Hold on one second please, would it be okay if you got just one last picture? With the whole group?”

She nodded, stepping back.

“Y/n! Why are you off to the side?” Peter rushed over to you, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Come on, we can’t take a full group photo without you in it!”

In that very moment, as Peter grabbed your hand and gently pulled you to where the rest of the group was standing, something in your mind clicked. You laughed as Peter abruptly stopped and you bumped into him, hearing the click of the camera go off. None of it seemed to matter though. All you could see was Peter smiling back down at you, the crinkles by his eyes more defined than ever, but also surprisingly more beautiful than ever.

You could sense the three people around you continuing to throw up more poses quickly, Yasmin capturing them, but the entire while, your eyes wouldn’t leave Peter’s grinning face, your mind slowly stopped registering anything other than the feeling of Peter’s arms around your shoulders. The pure warmth he radiated pulled you in further, and everything around you except his perfect smile blurred.

One thing became very clear in that moment of complete encapsulation though, despite it being a completely foreign feeling to you, as the same words played in your head, over and over.

‘Holy crap, I think I’m in love with my best friend.’

If only you knew, those were the exact same words racing through Peter’s mind.

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mcwriting · 4 years

Text

The Marriage Project (1)

Omg I can’t believe it’s taken me THIS long to post this. I wrote this chapter probably in like April or May and it freaks me out to finally post but here it is!

My slow burn (American) High School AU with Tom Holland!

All the general info for this series is on the story masterlist, but I’ll list warnings and word counts on every chapter. Chapters will be much longer than my typical 2000 or less babies

Warnings: This will become a mature story in the future (no smut; more info on masterlist). Some profanity in this chapter

Word Count: 4140 (I told you!)

% approximately the 2nd week of August %

Ah, senior year. One last year of high school, one last year of seeing the people you’ve grown up with every day.

You’ve been told it’s easy. The best year ever. And yeah, maybe it will be. It’s not like you’re taking too many hard classes or overloading yourself with extracurriculars, aside from volleyball, soccer, the National Honors Society, and quiz bowl.

(Okay maybe it was a little much, but you loved it anyways)

The only real problem was the certified thorn in your side, Tom Holland.

He’d essentially been your mortal enemy since the sixth grade when he beat your mile time by only a few seconds.

Now, it’s not that he was a bully or anything, he was just so insufferable to be around. And yes, everyone always says boys pick on girls when they like them, but rest assured that wasn’t the case. You’d both always hated each other, nothing more.

You were always competing, and because of that ended up in the same place a lot.

He was in all your honors classes, in NHS, played boys soccer, and did quiz bowl. The only thing you had to yourself was volleyball except, oh wait, his younger brother’s girlfriend was on the team and Tom was his ride home every day.

All these thoughts raced through your head as you walked in on the first day, sitting down in AP calculus as soon as you finished up at your locker.

Everyone did the “how was your summer?” and “long time no see!” as students filed in. Eventually walked in Tom, and you shot each other a glare as he sat down right next to you.

“Holland.”

“Y/l/n.”

Everyone around you groaned. They all knew you two were forces to be reckoned with and probably dreaded spending another year listening to the two of you bicker everyday.

Though you were often in close proximity, you never really talked much, except to argue. Rarely did you agree unless it was on basic facts, and even then was it hard to admit sometimes.

Because of this, you typically resigned yourselves to only speaking when it came to grades so you could keep a mental tally of who was in the lead. You were both in the running for valedictorian at the end of the year, and you were not about to let Tom win.

The week was almost over and things had gone smoothly for the most part.

Sure, you and Tom had had a couple of spats, but nothing that wasn’t handled quickly.

He’d been to all of your volleyball games so far, even the summer ones, which meant he was forced to watch you dominate the court as both a setter and right side hitter.

It was a nice little satisfaction.

Especially because you’d watched him throw some horrendous passes in the preseason football game last week that led to a loss by one touchdown. (Okay, he’d had some good passes too, but they were lucky shots).

You settled into your seat in senior home economics Friday before lunch. The class was your school’s attempt at teaching some life skills for rising adults. For the most part however, it was a glorified cooking and sewing class. You didn’t mind per say, since you could cook up a pre-snack lunch sometimes.

Most of your friends were in there, including your best friend Alexis, whom you hadn’t seen all morning.

You, Alexis, and two other girls stood around a mixing bowl with the ingredients to make chocolate chip cookies since it was a Friday, which Mrs. Flynn called “dessert day.”

“Oh! Before I forget,” your teacher, Mrs. Flynn, started getting everyone’s attention. “This year we’re doing something new for this class! Next week I’ll have you all split into pairs for a semester long marriage project! I will be drawing names out of a hat, so don’t get too comfortable yet. Anyways, be thinking on what kinds of careers you might want and things of that nature! Okay, now get back to your desserts!”

The whole room broke out into chatter the last part of the hour-and-a-half class, people speculating who might end up with who and what jobs they’ll get.

“Oh my God, wouldn’t it be funny if y/n got Tom?” Alexis stated as you stirred chocolate chips into the dough. The other girls laughed as you just snorted.

“Yeah, I’d rather lick the inside of the microwave than be paired up with him for a semester,” you replied, earning more laughter from your friends.

You assumed Tom’s friends were saying the same however, because when you looked over to see how bad their dough looked, he was rolling his eyes as his group pointed in your direction.

The next week came and went, and it was once again Friday. Or, as Mrs. Flynn was calling it, Wedding Day.

Every time she’d pull a couple’s name, she was going to make you both come to the front of the class and exchange plastic wedding rings and sign a fake marriage license.

Yay.

Everyone chattered excitedly as she tore up the strips with your names and mixed them around. Finally the time came for her to start the drawing.

“Okay, friends. First up we have...” she drew the first name. “Katherine and... drumroll please?”

The class drummed their hands over their thighs.

“Chris! Come on down folks, let’s get this marriage on!”

She “married” the first couple, and then continued to draw. You had to admit that you were a little nervous, but still eager to see who you’d get.

Two couples later, she pulled Tom’s name.

You shot him an eyebrow raise to which he returned a discreet middle finger. You rolled your eyes as you prepared a drumroll for Mrs. Flynn.

“And his lucky partner is... y/n!”

“What!” you both exclaimed simultaneously.

Almost the entire class burst into laughter.

“Mrs. Flynn, this has to be a mistake,” you said.

“Yeah, can’t we have a redraw?” Tom asked.

You hated that he was agreeing with you.

“Nope! You get who you get and you don’t throw a fit! And if it doesn’t work out in a few weeks we can discuss divorce plans.”

“How about annulments,” you stated dryly, earning a chuckle from her.

“That… kinda depends on if you have kids,” she trailed awkwardly before perking back up. “Now come on down! They always say your first marriage is the most memorable!”

“Who has ever said that?” Tom asked.

“You know. They. Now just get up here and do the ring thing!” she commanded.

You both sulked up to the front of the room.

“Okay, now stand here facing each other and hold hands.”

“Do we have to?” Tom whined.

“Yes, now do it and it’ll be over with faster.”

He groaned, rolled his eyes, and grabbed your hands, holding them loosely.

“May I have the rings please!” Mrs. Flynn asked Caroline, the girl whose desk was closest that she’d asked to be designated ring bearer. She handed over the basket to let you both choose from the mix.

You took a silver colored ring with a faux white diamond in the shape of a star. Tom chose one with an oval “ruby.” You couldn’t help but notice how every single person was on edge watching the two of you.

“Okay now Tom, repeat after me. I, Tom Holland, take thee, y/n y/l/n, to be my wedded wife to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.”

He mumbled through the vow, avoiding eye contact, and slipped your star ring onto your finger. You were surprised at how gentle he was, carefully caressing your hand and making sure the ring faced straight up once it was on your finger.

You, too, said the lines and placed the ring onto his left hand.

“Alright. It is with the power vested in me by this very school that I am proud to now pronounce you husband and wife! You may now air kiss!”

You took a deep sigh and pretended to kiss each other's cheeks.

“Class, I’d like to introduce you all to Mr. and Mrs. Holland!”

They began to cheer and clap and laugh when you interjected.

“Uh, no. It’s Mr. and Mrs. y/l/n.”

Tom began to argue with you when Mrs. Flynn stopped you both.

“Alright fine, we’ll do a combined name. How’s the y/l/n-Holland family sound?” she asked, writing your names on the fake marriage certificate.

With reluctance, Tom agreed to having your name first and you both signed the paper.

Finally you were able to sit back down where your friends were waiting.

“So what was that about licking the microwave?” Alexis asked.

“Oh shut up.”

After your volleyball game (another win!), you and Alexis conversed over cheese fries at your favorite diner.

“Still not ready to talk about today?” she asked. You shook your head.

Alexis had been paired up with Caroline. They were both straight, but you had both been friends with her since freshman year and they got along well.

Today had just been the marriages, and next week you’d be learning more about your family dynamics.

“I’m just so pissed at him. This afternoon in senior art he told all the guys in there that he was going to make it as hard as possible for me. I mean jokes on him, he’s going to want to get an A too, but he was just so smug about it. He also strung his stupid ring on that necklace he’s always wearing. What’s that all about?”

“I mean you’re still wearing your ring. But yeah, that is a little weird.”

“I’m wearing mine because compared to some of the others, the star is actually cute.”

“True. I got unlucky with the selection,” Alexis admitted, digging hers out of her purse to show you a big square blue gem.

“I just wish there was a way to get back at him after all these years. I mean, we’ve been at each other’s throats for almost six years but nothing has ever seemed to really hit hard. This is the last year I’ve got to really make it count.”

Alexis gave you a look, one you knew to be quite mischievous.

“You know what’s the best way to get revenge on a guy?” Alexis asked.

“Uh, no, but by the look you’re giving me it seems to fall under Carrie Underwood ’before he cheats’ directive.”

“No, dumbass. You make his family fall in love with you.”

It took a second to process what she said before you could give a decent reply.

“You’re kidding right? His family already knows who I am because of all the stuff we’re in together. They probably also know about our rivalry. I mean, he’s told his brothers to never become friends with me.”

“And you know that, how?”

“The libero is Sam’s girlfriend. She’s been spilling tea for me for the past year.”

There was a break in the conversation as the waiter brought your meals out. Once he was gone, you spoke up again.

“Look, do you really think that would work? I mean sure I’d get under his skin, but it doesn’t really constitute revenge, does it?”

“Look at it this way,” Alexis put down her burger so she could splay her hands out in front of her. “If you can get on everyone else's good side, they’ll all talk about how much they love you and he’ll be forced to listen. If he really hates you, it’ll drive him crazy.”

You thought on it for a minute as you chomped on a chicken tender.

“Alright, I’m in. If it doesn’t end up working, I still have all of next semester to mess with him anyways. Now if I can just figure out how to really get to know his family…”

By the time Monday rolled around, you and Alexis had done some more scheming, but your plan wouldn’t even begin to be put in action until your volleyball games Wednesday and Friday, when you’d try to talk to Sam.

You sat down in home ec, where today you’d be picking careers. The catch, however, was that your family unit would have a set income, so each couple had to decide how it would be split up.

“Y/l/n-Holland family, you’ll be making $200k a year,” Mrs. Flynn announced, handing you the slip of paper. “Get together and decide who’s getting what jobs.”

“At least we’ll be rich,” you thought as Tom plopped into the seat next to you unhappily.

“So I’ll be the doctor and you’ll be the trophy wife, right?” he asked immediately.

“Hah, good one. I think we all know that I’m the smarter one here and wayyyy more likely to get into med school than you. And don’t call me trophy wife. I mean, what, you think I’m hot now? Can’t wait to tell everyone that little number.”

His ears turned beet red and he balled a fist.

“I don’t think you’re hot, except maybe hot shit. It’s a figure of speech.” he spat.

“Oh get over yourself. I know I’m hot anyways. Let’s just both pick jobs that earn $100k so we can be equal. How’s that sound?”

“Fine.”

He played with the plastic ring on his necklace as you looked up jobs on the computer. After a half hour of searching, Tom and you decided that to be fully equal, you’d both take the same job as physician’s assistants.

“Just so you know, I’ll never actually be anyone’s assistant,” he said.

“Oh yeah? Ten years time if you’re lucky I’ll hire you as mine.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Hey everyone, since class is almost over, we’re gonna wait to draw how many kids you’ll have and other financial things Wednesday. See you then!” Mrs. Flynn called out as students packed their things.

“We have to have kids, too?” Tom asked incredulously.

“Good thing it’s fake. I’d hate to see you as a parent,” you shot smugly, earning another middle finger from him that left you laughing.

Wednesday came kids, and thankfully all you got were twin girls, age 9. The project didn’t make you carry around flour babies or anything like that, you just had to account for them in your weekly budgets.

There goes the annulment plan, though.

Each week, Mrs. Flynn would be drawing something new for you all that would either be good or bad for your budgets, and it was up to you to figure out what to with the funding, or lack thereof. You also had to come up with a story each week that explained why money was put somewhere or what your “family” did that week.

She would also be doing progress checks, so you couldn’t wait until the end of the semester to do all the work. By the end, each couple would have to give a presentation over what they did and learned.

“Okay, so we each get to name one. That’s pretty equal,” you stated, thinking up baby names.

“Well I like Elizabeth,” he almost immediately replied, writing it down on one of the “birth certificates” you’d been handed by Mrs. Flynn.

“That’s… surprisingly good. I’ll go with Francesca. What about middle names? I like Rose.”

“Hm. How about Opal? Then they’ll have the same number of letters in their names.”

You were surprised at how much though he put into this, but let it go as you wrote your child’s name down.

“By the way, we need to plan time to get together and write a budget and find a house this weekend. I have a volleyball game Friday so how about Saturday?”

“I have football practice Saturday.”

“Well yeah but only until like 10 right? We could just meet at like 1. We’re doing construction at my house right now so could we do it at yours?”

You spoke sweetly in an attempt to receive a yes and put your plan into motion. Tom sighed and thought about it.

“I mean I guess. But you’re only going to be there to work on the project and then leave right?”

“Uh, duh. The less time with you the better.”

“Likewise.”

Tom and Sam weren’t at the volleyball game Wednesday, so you had to wait until Friday’s.

Friday was muffin day in home ec, so you thankfully didn’t have to talk to Tom. Instead, you and Alexis discussed the plan of getting Tom’s family on your side as you mixed up batter.

Later that afternoon, you watched from afar as Sam and his girlfriend, Julia, sat on the bleachers speaking. It was still an hour until game time and coach had asked you to round up the girls for stretching.

“Hey, Jules!” you called, jogging over to where she was. “Oh, hey Sam!” He looked at you like you were crazy before responding.

“Uh, hey y/n.” He gave a slight head nod.

“Anyways, coach wants us to start warming up. Wanna be my partner today?”

“Um yeah. Sure. See ya later babe,” she said, giving Sam a quick peck on the cheek before standing up to follow you.

After another win, you were helping take down the net and noticed Julia once again talking to Sam while Tom stood a few feet away looking bored.

“Hey, could you wrap up the net? I need to do something real quick,” you said to another teammate as you headed over.

“Hey, Jules! Solid digs today! You were making my job way too easy,” you joked.

You could see from the corner of your eye Tom look up at you in annoyance.

“Ahaha thanks girl. But I can’t take all the credit. You were on fire tonight. What was that like 15 aces? And your hits? Incredible,” she replied.

“Yeah, you were amazing tonight,” Sam added.

“Ohhhkay we can stop the compliment parade on y/n now. We need to go anyways, Sam, mom wants us home,” Tom interjected, putting an arm out in front of his brother, who was rolling his eyes.

“Alright fine. We still on for dinner tomorrow?” Sam asked his girlfriend. She nodded and they exchanged a quick hug and kiss.

“I’ll see you tomorrow too, Tom,” you said. “I’ll bring my laptop.”

Sam looked at him in confusion.

“Yeah whatever,” was all Tom could say to you as you strutted off to the locker room.

You stood nervously on the front porch of Tom’s suburban home. You had texted him when you parked but now dreaded actually going inside.

After shifting back and forth for a minute, you finally rang the doorbell.

It was only a few seconds later that the door opened, revealing Sam’s twin Harry. He looked confused.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?”

“Hey Harry. Tom and I are supposed to be working on a school project today and he said to come over at this time so...” You awkwardly shifted your backpack straps and looked down.

“Tom! Someone’s here to see you!” he yelled out, making you snort.

He appeared shirtless in the doorway and looked at you blankly.

“Oh. It’s just you.”

“Just me? What did you just forget that we have to work on our project today,” you replied, holding up your left hand to point to the plastic ring on it.

“You’re still wearing that? Why?”

“Firstly, the little star is cute. And secondly, you don’t have a lot of room to speak, Tom. Yours is still on your necklace,” you pointed to the chain around his neck, to which he instinctively reached up and grabbed the ring, twisting it between his fingers.

“Touche. Now come on, let’s just get this over with.” He opened the door wider and let you in, locking it behind you.

As he led you down a hall covered in photos towards the stairs, his mom stepped out, almost running into her son.

“Oh, sorry.” she looked at you, “Y/n? What are you doing here? It’s nice to see you.”

“Nice to see you too, Mrs. Holland. Tom and I have to work on our home ec project and we couldn’t do it at my house.”

“Oh dear just call me Nikki. And I do remember him mentioning something about a project. Are you the one he’s married to? I never thought I’d see the day.”

Tom tensed up and clenched his jaw while you gave a light chuckle, holding up your left hand again.

“I hate to say it, but yeah. You’ll probably be seeing a lot more of me throughout the semester.”

“Well you kids have fun. And Tom, honey, would it kill you to put on a shirt?”

He went red again and you had to stifle your laughter.

“I was just on my way to do that, mom. Come on y/n,” he mumbled, grabbing your wrist and dragging you up the stairs.

You turned and waved at Nikki one last time as she called up behind him,

“And make sure to keep the door open!”

He was totally embarrassed by that, and made it a point to shut the door behind him once you made it to his room. Finally you could let out a hearty laugh at his expense as he dug through his drawers and pulled out a simple black t-shirt.

“Finally. I was getting tired of looking at your man boobs,” you quipped, looking around the room.

“Ha ha. Good one,” he shot back dryly.

You were surprised at what his room looked like, though you didn’t know what you’d expected. It was very neat with sleek grey walls. His blue and grey bedding was made up with decorative pillows laid out. On his desk were a few random school papers and a computer, and one shelf held some Spider-Man paraphernalia while another contained medals and ribbons and trophies.

You dropped your backpack to the ground and pointed up at one figurine.

“Hey, that’s pretty cool,” you said sincerely.

“Yeah, I’m sure you think so,” he replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

“Uh, no. I’m serious. It’s actually really dope.”

He looked taken aback at your compliment, and even to you it felt weird to be saying that out loud about Tom of all people.

“Oh. Well uh. Thanks. Spider-Man was my favorite growing up. But let’s just get to work.”

After an hour of sitting on his carpet searching for a house and arguing over general money allocations,

“Yes Tom, tampons actually cost like $7 for 30 of them and most girls need at least one box a month. And that’s just one factor of personal hygiene. Do you even condition your hair?”

“I’ll have you know my hair is well moisturized. I just don’t ever have to pay for it.”

You finally came to an agreement on the week’s budget.

Packing up your things, you looked up at Tom who was now sitting on the side of his bed scrolling through social media.

“So next week. Your first game of the season, yeah?” you said, remembering that September was already almost here.

“Oh yeah. You coming? I’d hate for you to see just how incredible I am.”

“Psh whatever. I saw your throws at preseason. But yeah, I’ll probably just rinse off after my volleyball game and head to the field. Gotta see what cuties they’ve got on the other team.”

“Ugh gross. You know you’ll regret saying that when half the school is swooning over me in the stands.”

“The only thing you’d ever see me swoon from is dehydration. And that’s a pretty weak excuse already.”

You stood and Tom got up to lead you back out.

“Oh, I think I know the way. You don’t have to take me.”

“Yeah I do. Gotta keep my eyes on those grubby little fingers of yours. Who knows what you’d do unsupervised.”

Before you reached the door, Nikki spotted you from the living room.

“Done so soon? Wow, good job guys. Come back any time y/n!”

“Thanks, Nikki,” you called back to her, then turned to Tom. “So same time next week? We can do it at my place if you want.”

“Nah let’s just do it here. I’m always exhausted the day after a game and I don’t really want to get up.”

Okay then

“Well, see ya Monday then. Bye.”

You were halfway down the sidewalk when Tom called out, “Be safe,” before shutting the door. You stopped in your tracks in shock, but eventually got into your car.

What really mattered, though, was that you were already on Nikki’s good side.

1 down, 4 to go.

Yay! It’s finished! I really hope you guys enjoy this new series because I’m so excited to share it with you all! Once again, future chapters will have some mature content (s*xual harassment and mentions of assault; underaged alcohol consumption) but those chapters will be explicitly labeled with warnings.

Anyways, thanks for reading and please send an ask or message if you’d like to join my story or permanent tag list!

Tag List: @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl,

#The Marriage Project #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #enemies to lovers #slow burn #Harry Holland #sam holland #tom holland au #high school!au #high school!tom holland

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cycat4077 · 3 years

Text

Lessons

Summary: You have a little heart-to-heart with a student you're tutoring. Sonny may or may not be eavesdropping. (Set Summer 2016) Pairing: Sonny x Reader Warnings: Basically just fluff! Words: 1808 AO3: here

Part 10 of the Changes verse - but it can be read as a one-shot too.

A/N: If this is your first time seeing this series, the reader is a teacher but is in between jobs. Money is tight, you and Sonny are coming out of a big fight and now the squad officially knows about yours and Sonny's relationship. This is just a little fluff filler fic to move things along :)

"The Lean Bean". It's the logo embroidered on the pocket of the uniform you're folding. It's also the place where you've been taking shifts as a way to offset some living costs. The new school year, and a dependable paycheck, is still well over a month away. Sonny had told you not to worry about finding extra work, but the idea of living together without paying for anything didn't sit right with you - especially in such an expensive city.

Reaching into the laundry basket, you pull out a pair of dryer-warmed socks and routinely fold them in two. A clunk at the front door makes you gaze over your shoulder from your spot on the couch. Finally, Sonny is home. You greet each other affectionately, Sonny placing a kiss to your forehead.

"How was your day?" you ask, grabbing another pair of socks to fold.

"Long," he replies but you can tell from his voice that there's something more. You look at him expectantly, offering a gentle smile.

"I, uh," he hesitates, moving around the couch to take a seat. "I spoke to the squad about us today."

Sonny's eyes are apologetic; the fight of a few nights ago is still fresh in your minds. You let him know it's all right by placing a hand atop his knee.

Reassured, he continues. "They're happy for me - for us – ‘n they've noticed that I'm happier too. Actually, before I left tonight Lieu pulled me aside. She said that I have more patience with the vics ‘n that I'm more tolerant when interrogating perps. Doll, I know that I couldn't do any of that if it wasn’t for you."

"That's excellent news, Sonny!" you express, flattered by the compliment as well. "You really are a great detective."

Sonny beams for a moment before his face falls. "Also, 'n I hope you're not mad, but I took the opportunity to talk to Lieu about what happened between us…about me keepin’ you a secret from ‘em."

You feel a twinge of panic in your gut at the thought of Olivia being privy to details of your relationship troubles. That initial feeling subsides however as Sonny elaborates.

"It's just...she knows what it's like ta try ‘n balance life ‘n this job, and - "

But you cut him off before he can finish his sentence. "You don't have to explain, Sonny," you empathize. "It's good to talk things out with someone who understands."

Sonny's warm hand finds yours and he interlace your fingers. "Yeah," he agrees. "She was really sympathetic about it, too. She told me it's normal to feel scared but that it is better to be honest." His mouth curves into a lopsided grin. "Typical Lieu," he shakes his head. "Oh, ‘n I kinda told her about our situation ‘n how you were outta work until the fall - Again, I shoulda asked ya before I went there, but she was really supportive of us. In fact, she gave me the numba of a mom at Noah's daycare who's lookin' for a tutor for her daughter. Apparently she's headed inta middle school ‘n is really strugglin'."

It's a lot to take in but you assure Sonny that you're not upset with him. You appreciate his honesty. Relieved, Sonny wraps you in a hug and tells you again how lucky he is to have you.

As for the tutoring. Well, it's hard to say no. The extra cash will certainly help pay some of the bills that have increased since you moved in.

-x-

Madison is a pretty guarded girl. On the brink of being a teenager, she wants nothing to do with being tutored and everything to do with all else. Her mother dropped her off in a hurry, needing to shuttle her other two children to various extracurricular activities. Unfortunately, this left little time for introductions or for inquiries regarding the areas she particularly needed help in.

You try to be as welcoming as possible, asking her questions about her school work and attempting to understand her learning needs. The girl, however, couldn't be bothered. So, instead of blindly waltzing into curriculum review, you decide to have a little heart-to-heart.

"Madison," you speak, leaning back in your chair. "Do you know why you're here; why your mom asked me to tutor you?"

The girl refuses to meet your gaze. "Well, yeah,” she crosses her arms on your kitchen table. “Mom wants me to be tutored and stuff." There’s definitely attitude behind that tone.

You swallow your annoyance and choose your words wisely. "In simple terms, yes. But I think you know that it’s not for your mom's benefit. It's for you, so that you can start the year off prepared."

"Yeah, whatever,” she rolls her eyes with a huff. “No matter what, it's never gonna be enough anyway."

"Hey!" you defend gently. "Don't say that! My attitude is that if you know in your heart that you tried your very best, that's all you can do."

Madison studies you through the bangs that hover over her green eyes. For a moment you swear you can see the words getting through, but then she shrugs. "If I get good grades, mom promised to buy me a new iPhone."

How do you put a positive spin on this? How do you connect with this girl? "That's awesome!" you encourage. "You know, in college I was failing calculus." The girl raises her dark brows in shock. Maybe we're getting somewhere. "Yeah, I felt really dumb in that class and I just didn’t understand anything when it came to tests. Needless to say, I was panicking big time when finals rolled around. So, my dad made me a deal. We lived upstate and he absolutely hated the thought of driving in New York City, but he said that if I could pull off a 90% in the course, he would drive me here to see a Broadway show."

Now Madison is listening intently, curiosity etched across her young face.

"Both he and I thought it would be impossible, but low and behold, I hunkered down," you exaggerate a look of concentration and tuck your arms close to your body, "and studied my butt off! I passed with a 93!"

The girl's mouth drops open. "What show did you see?"

You smile fondly at the memory. "None," Madison shoots you a bewildered look, "but we did end up doing other fun stuff. I still like to tease my dad about it though and I guess I should be the one taking him since I live here now."

Madison's features soften and she allows a small chuckle.

"The point is," you say, trying to refocus the girl, "that you'd be surprised what you can do when you put your mind to it!"

You offer her an encouraging smile but Madison's quickly fades as she glances away. "It's...it's just really hard," she admits. "Mom's always so busy with my brother and sister which…kinda sucks sometimes."

Your eyebrows pinch together sympathetically. What can you say to her to let her know that it’s okay? Then your mind flickers to Sonny. "I know it's gonna be hard for me to relate to you on this one since I have no siblings, but my boyfriend comes from a big family. He has three sisters and he tells me that they used to fight like cats and dogs growing up." You can see Madison nod knowingly. "But you know what? Those squabbles really don't matter now. They love each other and they'd do anything for one another." A doting smile spreads across your face, "I'm actually kind of jealous of that. And with you, I bet that you must feel a lot of pressure to look out for your brother and sister, huh?" Madison shrugs sheepishly.

"That's a lot of responsibility, but at the same time, your siblings will appreciate you for it. They may not show you or tell you - they'll still be the same pains in the butt, however once you're all grown up, they will understand how much you've been there for them along the way. Whether you realize it or not, they look up to you. So, the greatest thing you can do for them is be the best version of yourself. By trying your best and working hard, they will learn to do that too - from you." You smile warmly at her and she returns the gesture.

It's not long after that Madison begins opening up. She explains what classes she has trouble with and how she feels about learning it. The information is invaluable and you take notes to plan out future sessions.

Madison's mother arrives a few minutes late to pick her up, but the girl flashes you a friendly smile as she leaves. You hope that you've given her more self-confidence and a little motivation to put forth her best efforts.

After you close the door behind them, Sonny pops around the corner and places a hand on the small of your back. He whispers softly into your ear. "You're amazin’, sweetheart." His breath causes a shiver to trickle down your spine.

"What? Why?" you question as Sonny slips his arms around the front of your waist.

Resting his chin on your shoulder, he continues. "The way you were talkin’ to Madison earlier. You've got so much compassion ‘n understandin’."

The warmth of his words radiates throughout your body. You lean your head against his, reaching up to touch the apple pendant hanging around your neck.

"Sorry for eaves droppin' but I heard my name 'n everythin' you were sayin' was just too sweet to turn away. You're definitely in the right profession. Your students are lucky to have you."

You turn around in his arms, slipping yours around his middle. "Thank you, Sonny," you murmur before placing a soft kiss to his nose. "That means a lot."

Sonny's eyes crinkle affectionately at the corners. "N' for what it's worth, you're gonna make an amazin' mom someday too. Watchin' you with her, it was all I could think about."

Your stomach somersaults. You do want kids one day and you can't imagine having them with anyone other than Sonny. "Yeah?" you smirk. "I want that for us one day too. The way you are with children melts my heart."

Sonny's features brighten. "Ya think I'd make a good dad?"

"Absolutely!" You poke his chest gently, right overtop his heart, "you got a lotta love in here, Carisi and someday our children will be the luckiest wee munchkins in the world getting to experience the love that I receive everyday."

Overwhelmed with elation, Sonny lifts you off your feet and into a giant bear hug; a silent declaration that you make him the happiest man in the world.

---

Fun facts:

- IDK if "The Lean Bean" is a real place or not, but it's a pretty accurate description of our favorite detective ;) - The story about the reader's calculus experience is a true story! Except, I'm Canadian so the drive is a little bit further :P

I hope you enjoyed this one! Thanks for reading :3

(Feedback is loved)

Part 11 here!

#sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi #my fanfic #sonny carisi x you #law and order svu #svu fanfiction #sonnyshine of my life #The Changes verse #Changes

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flying-nightwing · 4 years

Text

The Incredible Coincidence of One High School Reunion

As promised, the awaited enemies to lovers x fake dating i’ve promised today! (ft. my love for super long titles)

Thank you to everyone supporting me!

PS: if your name is Monica I am truly sorry, please forgive me.

Masterlist

Pairing: Dick Grayson x reader

Word count: 4916

Warnings: none beside extreme cheesiness

Out of everyone you thought would show up to the Gotham Academy 10 years alumni reunion, Dick Grayson was definitely not one of them. He was the golden boy, the Wayne kid that probably had a long list of better things to do than entertain than his old cohort of high school graduates. Alas, there he was in all of his glory, and it pissed you off.

You and Dick had, to say the least, a difficult relation. You had been friends, for a little while after he started at the academy. You had a lot of classes together and more often than not ended up working together. You helped him get acclimated to the new school and environment, introduced him to all your friends and invited him to your extracurricular activities. But then, ever so slowly, everything became a competition. Who got the best grades, who got involved in most committees, and even who the teachers liked most. Naturally, he bested you in everything and made a point to shove it back in your face. He became your nemesis, and this adversity dealt one hell of a blow to your social standing. People liked Dick better, of course they did, so they stopped hanging out with you.

Good riddance, you told yourself. They outed themselves as fake friends anyway, so the loss hadn’t been catastrophic. Still, for a teenage girl, it had hurt. You had been doomed as the loner, all because you had befriended the wrong person in the first place. The saddest part was that you genuinely missed your friendship with Dick, but you just couldn’t go back to him. It would have made you look pathetic and desperate, and you were not about to stoop so low. Sure you had a few other acquaintances you ate lunch with and did teamwork, but it wasn’t the same.

He was mingling with the people, talking and laughing in his probably expensive suit. You rolled your eyes at the sight and downed your glass of champagne, then made your way back to the refreshment table. On the way you bumped into an old colleague from the recycling committee and entertained small talk, then you made it there without another obstacle. You stopped in front of the already filled glasses of wine and hesitated. The red wine smelled horrible, the white seemed watered down, but the rosé looked like a good choice. You reached for the last glass when your hand collided with another. you looked up to apologize, but as you caught a glimpse of the other person, your eyebrows furrowed in annoyance and retracted your hand like it touched fire.

“Grayson” You said through clipped lips.

“(Y/L/N)”

“Still trying to steal my only joy left, I see” You scoffed, nodding at the still unclaimed rosé glass.

“And you’re still baselessly accusing everyone but yourself for undermining you” He rolled his eyes. “Nothing has changed”

“What do you want?” You sighed, crossing your arms against your chest and glaring up at him. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

“Well, I was just trying to get a drink” He lifted his hands up in surrender, but in a sarcastic way that just irritated you, and he knew it all to well. “You were the one who got all pissy about it”

“Yeah whatever, I guess I should have bowed and offered you the glass on a silver platter” You huffed. “So his Highness wouldn’t have been inconvenienced”

“Are you kidding me?” His eyebrows raised. “Why are you like this? I’ve never--”

He stopped talking, his eyes fixated on something behind you for a second. Then, he made himself surprisingly small and glanced away. You frowned in confusion for a second, before you looked over your shoulder and blanched, understanding the reaction all too well. You shared a look of panic, simultaneously putting away the animosity between each other to brace yourself for the horror that was to come.

And that horror was named Monica.

She confidently walked toward you, graceful in her high heels and frustratingly stunning in her knee length dark blue dress. She was your ex supposed best friend, and the first one to ditch you for Dick when the rivalry began. She then proceeded to make a point of showing off her pinning for him, trying desperately to make her and him a “thing”. It never worked, but she kept going, so much it became borderline stalking. The whole school knew, it fueled everyone’s gossip.

Without missing a beat, she extended in arm in between you and Dick to grab the last glass of rosé, leaning not so subtly more in his space than she needed to. She sipped the alcohol almost seductively, gazing at Dick with practiced innocence. It was becoming uncomfortable real quick.

“Hi Richard” She gave him her best smile, then shot you a smug glance as if saying watch this. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been good” He replied without much interest, refusing to meet her eyes. “How about you?”

“Amazing! I’ve been working on totally rebranding my father’s hotel company” She chatted excitedly. You sighed inwardly and grabbed a glass of white wine, taking a long sip. “If you want to, I can show you the new rooms design. We could test the mattresses…”

You choked on your wine while Dick’s eyes considerably widened. Monica was waiting for an answer.

“I uh-- Actually I can’t…” He sputtered, trying to come up with an excuse to reject her. Oh, that would be interesting alright. He knew how persuasive she could be, so he had to find something solid. He looked around in a panic, then his eyes settled on you. “... Because (Y/N) and I are together”

His words didn’t quite register in your head as he threw an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to his side with a wide forced smile. His fingers giving a small pleading tug to your dress snapped you out of your stupor, and you plastered a matching grin on your lips. You hated the idea of bailing Dick out of an embarrassing situation, but the opportunity of taunting Monica was just too good to pass, so you decided to play along.

“What?” Monica blinked in confusion, then frowned. “I didn’t know that”

“That’s because we’ve been keeping it very private” He replied smoothly. “I wanted to keep her away from the paps, they’re such vultures sometimes”

“Oh” She simply said, before smiling sweetly. It was too sweet. You didn’t like it one bit. “So how did it happen?”

“Well, we bumped into each other again last year, totally by accident” You took over Dick’s hesitation. “And uh, we cleared things up and it kinda just… Happened”

You made a point of giving him heart eyes as you finally returned his awkward embrace. His muscles untensed a bit when he saw you wouldn’t sabotage him. Something shifted in Monica’s eyes, they became just a bit more somber without her losing the smile. It made her look just a bit insane.

“I see” Her tone turned hostile. “I guess you won’t mind if I share the good news, won’t you?”

“... Yeah, we don’t mind” He scratched the back of his neck while your stomach dropped. You hadn’t thought about this. The smugness returned as she turned around, flipping her hair in the process. You watched her walk away before sending a thundering glare at Dick, who had his lips pressed in a thin line.

“Really?”

“What was I supposed to do?” He quietly bit back.

“You owe me a solid one for this” You said through your teeth. “You better start thinking of something good, golden boy”

“As far as I’m concerned, you have as much interest as me to keep this charade up” He scoffed, grabbing a glass of red wine. “So don’t act like you’re doing this out of selflessness”

“Yeah whatever”

“Ooooohhhh mi gosh guuuuys”

You both flinched at the very high pitched voice coming to your right. You saw a girl in a violet dress almost running toward you with a wide grin on her face. You didn’t remember her name, but you knew she was a nice girl despite her tendency to get in everyone’s business.

“Why didn’t you say you were together?” She squealed as her boyfriend trailed along, an apologetic expression on his face. “This is so amaaaazing!”

“Ah, yes” You replied awkwardly. “We just wanted to keep it private, you know?”

“Yeah I understand totally” She nodded quickly, the point of your words soaring right over her head. “I’ve always known you guys were going to end up together. You’re so meant for each other”

You wanted to cringe. That surely wasn’t the discourse anyone was holding while you were still in high school, and she surely only said that because she thought you were actually together. What do they know, anyway.

“Uh, thanks” Dick smiled politely to hide his discomfort. “I guess it took some time, but we finally figured it out, haha”

“Oh, I forgot” She gasped, turning to her boyfriend. “Mike, this is Dick and (Y/N). They were like, THE rivals back in the days. We basically only talked about them for like, an entire school year. It’s so sad (Y/N) pushed everyone away though”

You looked away as she kept babbling to her boyfriend. You knew she didn’t mean it in a harsh or mocking way, but it still stung. You wanted to tell her it hadn’t been by choice, that people deserted you and forced you into a corner, but you found yourself unable to do so. Beside, you couldn’t just let them know how much it affected you or they would prey on it all the same than in actual high school. You were so busy tuning her out that you missed the concerned glance sent in your direction.

“Hey, it was nice to see you again” Dick shook hands with the couple, snapping you out of your head. You forced a smile and did the same. “I think we’ll go around a bit, but uh, see ya?”

“S-sure”

You gladly took this exit and walked away from the refreshment table with Dick. You could feel his questioning stare shifting on you every few seconds, but you refused to look in his direction. He didn’t have the right to be concerned, and you didn’t owe him any explanations. You lifted your head upright and followed him over to the next group of person. Naturally, by this point, everyone had gotten the word from Monica. People were either friendlier than ever with you, or gave you attitude about it, none of which you enjoyed. You mostly nodded and smiled, barely paying attention to the words that were being exchanged. It was more often than not anecdotes that concerned Dick, or happened after you broke things off with most of your friends.

“It so strange to see you together” Some guy you didn’t quite remember began with a cruel smirk. “I didn’t see you as the type to hang out with losers”

You bit your cheek so hard it almost bled. You were certain that this would be the last nail to your coffin, that you’d receive the humiliation of your life. However, your fake boyfriend had another idea.

“Still I hung out with you” The comeback came so fast it almost gave you a whiplash. Silence settled over the group, their baffled stares directed to a very self satisfied Dick Grayson. “Hey, remember when you hung upside down from the climbing ropes in gym class and threw up all over yourself from up there?”

Your hand involuntarily flew to your mouth to hide the drop of your jaw.

A wave of uncomfortable laughs made its way around the circle, as nobody had enough guts to confront Dick about it. And you had a feeling he knew that; he knew they would still try to suck up to him even ten years later and fully abused this privilege.

For you.

Without waiting any longer, you were gently dragged away from the group. You were still processing what had just happened and didn’t realize you were talked to. You shook your head slightly to get out of your daze and frowned.

“Uh?”

“I asked you if you were okay” He repeated softly.

“Y-yeah” You stuttered. “I guess I’m the one who owe you one now”

“Don’t mention it” He tried a small smile. “Those people need some reality checks sometimes”

“I don’t know why I even came to this stupid reunion” You mumbled, glancing back at where the group had stood earlier. Most of the people had gone away by now, only remaining the guy Dick had all but obliterated and some girl seemingly comforting him. “It was a bad idea”

He didn’t speak right away, he instead did a visual sweep of the room, then at the back door of the gymnasium and at the crown again. “Hey, have you ever gotten on the roof of the academy?”

“... No” Your eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“Come on” He hooked his arm through yours and pulled you with him to the back door. You ended up in a staircase you didn’t know existed and began climbing up. You didn’t know how, but Dick easily bypassed the lock without the key, opening the door to the roof. You stepped out a took a deep breath, glad you could escape the crowd of people you didn’t like downstairs. The sky was clouded and it smelled like rain was coming.

“So” You began as you turned to face him. “How did you out of all people found out about this secret passage? This isn’t very much golden-y of you”

“Oh, if only you knew” He chuckled, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I found the staircase by accident in senior year one time I was trying to hide away from Monica and her gang of demons”

You snorted.

“I don’t know how you did it” He hummed, looking up at the sky.

“Did what?”

“Kept yourself together while I was being, well, a total dick” He precised.

“Ah” You gave him a sad smile. “The first social rule you learn when you’re born rich, is that you rarely ever make real friends. You mostly only keep people around temporarily for your own gain, then they’re gone. It was hard, but I had expected it”

“Still, you handled it way better than I did” His eyes trailed down the roof and stopped on you. “I wasn’t prepared for everything that came with hanging with rich kids”

“It’s an art, isn’t it?” You teased. “Fake friends are hard to manage, especially the kind that comes here. If you’re not careful they’ll eat you alive”

“Yeah, I understood that pretty quickly” He sighed. You nodded slowly, warming up your arms with your hand. The night air was cold, and the wind didn’t make it better.

“If it could make you feel better” You paused, regretting your words as soon as they came but unable to stop them. “I think you’ve been my only true friend in high school, for the time it lasted”

You weren’t looking to astound him, but you surely did. His whole posture changed, and his expression shifted into something you couldn’t put your finger on. You had the time to reconsider your words and ask yourself if you should leave before he gave you any reaction.

“Sorry” You mumbled. “I shouldn’t have said that”

“N-no, wait” He scurried his thoughts. “You really meant that?”

You nodded.

“I truly screwed up didn’t I?” He muttered, flinching.

“No, I did” You sighed. “I should have just swallowed my pride and stopped caring so much about trying to be better than you”

“But I kept pushing you” His head hung low. “I was trying so hard to get attention and validation that lost the one person that might have made high school not so terrible”

“Didn’t you get enough validation from Monica?” You raised an eyebrow playfully. “She seemed so keen on praising your every move”

“Ha” He shook his head, a small smile dancing on the corner of his lips. “I think she was praising the name Wayne more than anything”

“High school was terrible” You said as you glanced up at a bird flying higher over your head. When you looked back down, Dick had his arm outstretched and was handing you his suit jacket. You mumbled a thanks and put it on, welcoming its warmth.

“Cheers to that”

“Oh yeah” You chuckled. “Cheers to people screwing up good things and explaining a decade later”

“(Y/N), I officially apologize for being an asshole” He declared, and you held back a grin. “Will you forgive me?”

“I officially forgive you, Dick Grayson” You replied. “Will you forgive me for being a stuck up bitch?”

“I officially forgive you, (Y/N)” He repeated with a mock solemn expression.

You held eye contact for a second before you burst with laughter. All of this anger and resentment you had carried for years was suddenly just gone. You had no idea it would be that easy to put it all behind you and find back your friend you had missed so much. You had forgotten how easy it was to laugh and kid around with him.

“Come here” He opened his arms for a hug. As you were about to walk into his embrace, raindrops began falling. You paused for a second, just enough for the sky to open up and pour water over you.

You yelped and ran for cover back inside. Dick slammed the door behind you and put back the lock on again, then with a mischievous glint in his eyes, grabbed your wrist and pulled you with him down the stairs.

“Slow down!” You squealed, trying not to fall over in your heals. “Where are we going?”

“Take a wild guess”

He pushed open the door of the first floor, giving out on the hallways you knew too well. Most senior classrooms were around here, and on the walls, the graduating classes hung in big, golden frames.

“The senior hall? Really?” You raised an eyebrow, but he wasn’t fazed.

“Come on, let’s find our year” He ignored your comment as he walked further down the corridor, checking the dates on every frame. You followed him until he finally stopped on the right one. “Aw, look at our baby faces!”

You squinted your eyes at the pictures to find him. “I’m sorry to tell you, you practically look the same”

He gasped in offense. “I believe I lost my baby cheeks since. I mean, look at my jaw”

You looked in between the picture and him a couple of times, pretending not to see it. Obviously, his face had gotten insanely handsome since you had last seen him, and that was just his face. You didn’t broach the topic of the broad shoulders and seemingly toned body. The rain had gotten through his white shirt a bit, and you prefered not to let your gaze linger there for too long,

“Mhhh” You shrugged teasingly. “I guess your hair has improved a bit”

“This is what you latched on? My hair?” He scoffed playfully before he snapped his head in your direction. “Wait, a bit?”

You laughed. “Alright alright, Grayson. I might be a bitch but I’m not a liar, you do score considerably higher overall on the looks now”

“Thank you” He smiled proudly. “You’re not too bad yourself”

“Oh, you don’t need to flatter me” You smirked as you stepped around him to go further down the hallway. “I’m fully secure in my glow up from then to now”

“Alright, no need to get cocky” He snorted, but it wasn't mean like it used to be. It felt like the friendship you were meant to have.

You stopped in front of the glass case displaying various achievement by seniors, the valedictorians of each years and the famous golden book, which contained the signature of every graduate of Gotham Academy since 1957. It laid open, showing the pages of the last class to leave. You felt nostalgic as you read the comments and signatures, suddenly wishing you were one of the kids who got to give and receive nice comments and share inside jokes only a select group of people would understand. Instead, you knew your name was forever scribbled in a corner ten pages back, perhaps overlapped by some bigger, flashier signature from the more popular crowd.

“Forever the... Salt water chugging gang?” Dick read from an entry, furrowing his brows together. “I wonder what events lead to that name”

“Yikes” You grimaced. “Were we that stupid?”

“More, I think” He grinned. “Let’s find out”

Before you could ask what he meant, he got to work to disable the student proof lock and opened the glass. He did it so easily, so flawlessly, you had trouble thinking of how he learned to do all that.

“How do you know so much about picking locks?” You asked as he carefully flipped back the pages to your year. First the door to the roof, now that?

“Stick around and maybe I’ll tell you” He winked, then returned his eyes on the book. They widened. “Oh what the hell”

“What?” You peeked from around him.

“Monica really… Really left me her-her” He choked with laughter, tears brimming his eyes. “Her my--myspace handle-”

You joined him in a quiet laughter, then it grew louder as his became hysteric. He barely finished his sentence, he couldn’t even say it, and you understood why. It was positively hilarious. She really did leave her myspace handle for Dick, under his name with a little heart and her signature.

Dick sighed, his hand on his chest as he tried to catch his breath back. He then wiped his tears and shook his head. “That was good”

“One for the books, for sure” You agreed. “If she could see that, the embarrassment”

“Come on, let’s add something for old time’s sake” He said as he pulled out a pen from his pockets. Before you could stop him, he leaned forward and began writing in a tiny free space. He then backed up, letting you read his little addition.

‘Let’s pretend I wrote that when we were seniors. To our lost and found friendship, sincerely, your favourite asshole’

Your smile widened at the message, a warm feeling sneaking up in your chest. You snatched the pen from his hand and scribbled another message in another blank space, the blue ink contrasting with the black of the markers on the page.

‘Because it took us a decade to find out we have more in common than different after all. To you with love, your stuck up bitch’

It was your turn to step back, satisfied, and let him read your message. He chuckled as you handed him back the pen, and quietly flipped back the pages to the last class.

“Thanks” You spoke up.

“For what?”

“For giving me the chance to write something nice that I meant in there” You explained, pushing back a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Despite what I might say, it’s nice to leave a mark somewhere”

“In that case, you’re very welcome” He smiled warmly. You felt your heart skip a beat when you noticed how close from you he had gotten. From close on, you could see the different pigments in the blue of his eyes, or just how sharp his facial features actually were. It was definitive, Dick Grayson was a really handsome man.

You kind of understood now why Monica was so obsessed with him.

Suddenly, Dick perked up, his eyes set on the corner of the corridor. Quicker than you could register, he shut the glass display close and spun you against him, backing himself up into the wall. You were confused and flustered with your hands flat on his chest, but you realized soon enough the purpose of his actions. Seconds after, your old math teacher rounded up the corner. She paused at the sight of you, a frown on her face, until she recognized Dick. Her whole expression then changed.

“Mr. Grayson” She smiled politely, ignoring the position you were in. So, he had staged it up to seem like you were doing something else than vandalizing the golden book. “I believe the party is in the gymnasium”

“Sorry Ms Hess” He apologized sheepishly. “We wanted to take a little trip down memory lane”

She gave you a knowing look, but didn’t argue much. She only kept going her way like she didn't even see you. You were baffled for a second at exactly what extent people went to suck up to the Wayne name, then you remembered the position you were in. The heat crept back up in your neck, and it only became worse when Dick seemed to have no intention to move. You were too aware of his arms circling your waist and his casual leaning on the wall.

“Nice save” You breathed, your eyes going back to his. Bad idea. He had this innocent look that actually was anything but, and it made you nervous. He was the one against the wall, but it still felt like you were the one trapped. “I still have no idea how you managed that too”

“Let’s add it to the list of mysteries, shall we?”

You could have sworn his voice got deeper there. He slowly tilted his head to the side, his gaze flickering under hooded eyelids in between your eyes and your lips. He was nearly irresistible like that, practically inviting you to steal a taste, so you decided just not to resist. Tentatively, you leaned closer and slowly pressed your lips to his. They were soft and warm as they began gently moving against yours, making you feel all weird inside. On one hand, this was the man you disliked with worked passion no earlier than two hours before. But on the other hand, it felt so right.

You felt like a teenager all over again, but living the right experiences this time around.

He pulled away, ending the kiss but still staying close. You blinked hazily, trying to chase the daze away. You could feel his hot breath on your lips, and while you were sure your thoughts should be spinning a hundred miles per hour, your head was surprisingly clear and calm. All nervousness was gone and dissipated in thin air.

“I…” You trailed off, trying to find your tongue. “I don’t know what to say”

“Hmmm, how about...” He hummed as if he was thinking it through. “Wow Grayson, you’re so amazing and I can’t believe we did not make out sooner”

You rolled your eyes at the high pitched voice he used, then lightly slapped him on the chest. “Way to ruin the moment”

“That’s the good thing about moments though” He said, sliding a hand up your back and on your neck. “We can make more of ‘em”

He pulled you in for another kiss, which did not last as long, but definitely felt as good as the first. Perhaps that girl in the violet dress was onto something after all.

“Smooth, Grayson” A small smile stretched on your lips when you separated. “Very smooth”

“Smooth’s my middle name”

“Uh huh” You chuckled, your eyebrows raised. “Sure”

He shook his head, a playful grin on his lips. His hand trailed from your neck down your arm and his fingers laced with yours. You glanced down at your joint hands, then up to his face. His smile was still there, but it was somewhat more toned down, more fond than its previous playful.

“Are we doing this?” He asked in a whisper. “Or should we stop before I start thinking about it too much?”

You took a deep breath at his question, not expecting it just yet. Dick was someone passionate and emotional, so it shouldn’t surprise you he was already thinking of a potential romantic relation. Everything was moving so fast, but you didn’t want to lie to yourself and say you didn’t feel anything there. Something definitely happened in between the moment he awkwardly threw his arm around you to dodge Monica and the moment he spun you against his chest. And well, one thing you clearly learned tonight was that spontaneous and not thought through decisions could pay off in a way you couldn’t even imagine.

“I’m willing to try if you are” You finally spoke up. “I guess we’ve got nothing to lose in giving this a shot”

Relief swept across his eyes and his famous million dollars smile returned. He gave your fingers a little squeeze, seeming as happy as a child on christmas morning.

“This is gonna be great” He muttered excitedly. “I won’t let you down again, I swear”

“You better not” You teased.

“Ohhhhhh mi goooosh!”

Both of your attention snapped at the shrilling voice interrupting you. There was the same girl from earlier, with a crowd around her that obviously contained a very pissed off Monica. You and Dick shared yet another look of incomprehension and slight panic at what she would say this time. And well, it was well justified because nothing could prepare you for her next words.

“They’re getting engaaaaaaaaged!”

Ah hell, what did you both get into?

#dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson reader #dc #dcu #DC Universe #dc imagine #dcu imagine #dc universe imagine #fake dating #enemies to lovers #imagine #cute

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odd-i-writes · 3 years

Text

Scheduling Disaster

AO3

Peter had a pretty solid schedule, one that he did not like to mess up, please and thank you. Monday to Friday he had school, so from about 7:30 to 3, he was in class. Monday, Wednesdays, and Fridays he had Acadec practice after school until about 4 or 4:30. So, after school or AcaDec practice, Peter was free to patrol, which he did until he was expected home around 6 for dinner. Then, after dinner, he did homework, until about 9 or 10, when he’d patrol again. And on school nights his curfew was strictly at 12:30 AM. It used to be 12, but after missing it so many times he got Mr. Stark to convince Aunt May to extend it, just a little bit.

The only day in the school week that was different was Friday, which was when he’d patrol until about 5 or 6, before going to Mr. Stark’s Tower. Usually, they would have some lab time, eat dinner, and maybe watch a movie. Sometimes they would be in the lab all night, and sometimes they’d skip the lab all together and just watch a movie. Either way, Friday nights were dedicated as “Mr. Stark time.” He usually slept over in the Tower on those nights, mainly because Mr. Stark didn’t like the thought of Peter swinging home in the early hours of the morning, and Happy had woken up at 4 AM just to drive all across New York City one too many times. Either way, it meant that Saturdays were typically spent sleeping in, eating breakfast with Ms. Potts and Mr. Stark, spending some more time with the man, usually in the lab, and doing homework. Occasionally he’d hang out with Ned and, or, MJ on Saturdays too. Then, starting around 8 or 9 PM, he’d start his patrol. Saturdays were the only night where his curfew was mostly non-existent, as long as he texted Mr. Stark hourly updates. Technically it was 3 AM, and Peter was home in bed most Saturdays before that, but sometimes he stayed out later. What could he say? The city needed him. Sunday was dedicated for homework and spending time with Aunt May, and then patrolling at night with his usual curfew.

All this to say, Peter liked his schedule. Everything had a place and was timed out specifically so that he would have time for everything. Being a teenage superhero was hard, after all. Most people got that little chart that had “Social Life — Good Grades — Hobbies” on it and were told to pick two. Peter’s chart looked more like “Social Life — Good Grades — Extracurriculars — Mr. Stark/Lab Time — Spidermanning — Family” and yet was still told to only pick two. But two wasn’t enough for Peter, would never be enough, so he found a way to do it all.

But he wasn’t complaining, no not at all. His schedule worked, he got to do everything he needed. Sure, it left him a little tired, and sure, sometimes he’d after to eat meals while doing homework, or while patrolling, but it was worth it. There had been no problems with his schedule so far, even though Ned had once called it a little bit “too much”, and Mr. Stark had commented on it before, but nothing more than an “I’m worried you’re overworking yourself, Pete,” so he was fine.

After all, he’d always been like this, it wasn’t anything concerning. It’s just that, well, after the Vulture incident, and getting closer to Mr. Stark, and being in Junior year now, he was busier. And sure, maybe he had become more strict about his scheduling after The Incident, but it was just because he had more on his plate. That’s all. He just needed to make sure nothing, and no one, messed up his schedule. And no one would because everyone and their dog knew that Peter’s schedule was important.

That is, until he walked into the common room in the tower Friday evening.

A brunette was sitting on the couch, staring intensely at some game on his phone. He’d obviously not heard Peter walk into the room, or if he had, he was just ignoring him.

“Uh… hi?” Peter said, his voice shaking just a little.

The brunette looked up immediately, a brief emotion of something showing on his face before he just settled on a disgruntled look. “Who are you?” it came out as a sneer and Peter bristled. He said it as if Peter didn’t belong here, but it was Friday, it was his day to be here. His day to spend time with Mr. Stark. He opened his mouth to say something, to give a retort, or at least to give his name, but Mr. Stark chose that exact moment to walk in.

“Oh, shit, Pete. I forgot to text you,” he looked genuinely surprised that Peter was there and, ya. Wow. That hurt a bit.

“This is Harley, he’s going to be staying here for a couple of weeks. There were some family problems and—”

“Tony, who’s this?” the brunette—Harley—asked, shooting a quick glare to Mr. Stark. It was clear that he didn’t want Peter to know why he was here. And for the most part, Peter understood. After all, he was a stranger, and strangers shouldn’t know the happenings of your family. And yet, it was just another stab to the heart. This boy, who could have only been maybe a year older than Peter himself, seemed to be close to Mr. Stark, close enough that he called him “Tony”, and close enough that Mr. Stark even forgot about Peter.

“This is Peter, he’s—”

“His intern,” Peter interrupted, giving Tony a look that clearly said “no Spider-Man”, or at least, he hoped it said that.

Harley gives him a weird look, and Peter gets the immediate feeling that he’s not wanted there. He shifts uncomfortably and turns his attention back to Mr. Stark. For now, he didn’t have to worry about Harley.

“Uhm, so, lab night tonight is…?” Peter trails off.

“Uh, well, I have to get Harley here settled in, but once that’s done I don’t see why we can’t work in the lab once that's done,” Mr. Stark scratched his beard, peering down at the two teens.

Peter smiled, that was all he needed. He didn’t mind waiting a little bit before having lab-time. He could always work on homework in the meantime.

“Speaking of that, though, Pete. You can’t stay over tonight,” Peter’s head shot up, and Mr. Stark must have noticed the faint look of sadness that crossed his face, “Well you can, it’s just that. Well, I sort of told Harley he could sleep in your room tonight.”

This time Peter looked at Harley, and then back to Mr. Stark. He hoped his emotions weren’t showing too much, but he’d never been good at hiding them. Aunt May always said he wore his heart on his sleeve. But the idea that Mr. Stark not only forgot about his and Peter’s lab night, but he also gave Peter’s room to some… some stranger? It hurt. It felt like he was being replaced.

“You’d think that with what, over a hundred floors and probably more than twice as many rooms the old man would have a spare bedroom somewhere, but apparently not,” Harley grumbled, stretching out on the couch where he was sitting.

He was so comfortable here, arguably more comfortable than Peter was. Peter always held at least a little bit of respect for Mr. Stark and his home, no matter how much they bantered, but it seemed like Harley just knew Mr. Stark more. Peter pressed his lips together, he hated it.

“I don’t have guests often,” Mr. Stark shrugged, “What can I say.”

A tense silence fell over the three. Harley was looking at his phone, seemingly refusing to look at Peter, and Mr. Stark was eyeing both teens with a careful eye. Peter, on the other hand, stood in place, with his backpack hanging off one shoulder, and shifted awkwardly a couple of times. He didn’t know what to do, but it seemed like Harley didn’t want him here, and Mr. Stark was barely acknowledging him.

“Anyways, what do you want for dinner, kid?” Mr. Stark turned, heading towards a seat.

“I guess—”

“Pizza would be good, Tony.” Harley’s voice was loud. It demanded attention, unlike Peter’s which seemed to be getting quieter and quieter as the day went on. It was so easy when he was Spider-Man, but when he was Peter Parker it was so much harder to force people to see him, to listen to him. But he’d never felt like that with Mr. Stark before. Mr. Stark had always listened to Peter. Even before the Vulture Incident, Mr. Stark showed interest, even though he didn’t directly speak to Peter. Months later he found out that the man had listened to all of his phone messages, and had kept a close eye on Spider-Man to make sure he was safe. After the incident though, the man got closer to Peter and listened to him in person.

But now, with Harley here, he felt like it was hard to be heard again.

And, on top of that, Harley answered to Peter’s nickname. Mr. Stark always called Peter kid, and only Peter. And yet, Harley answered to the name too? It was petty and childish, but it made an anger boil in Peter’s stomach. He caught Harley’s eye again, and the other boy just rolled his eyes before sending a brief glare. Mr. Stark didn’t even notice the looks Harley was giving Peter, or if he did, he didn’t acknowledge them. Peter sighed, he could tell when he wasn’t wanted somewhere.

“Uhm, Mr. Stark?” Peter called out, just as the man was telling F.R.I.D.A.Y. to place a pizza order.

“Ya, kid?”

“I actually forgot that I uh, I’ve got a big essay due Monday that I need to work on. MJ said she’d help me, but I gotta call her tonight about it… so I’m uh. I’m gonna go? And skip the lab for this week,” he could feel himself starting to shake a little bit. He just wanted to go home, maybe go on another quick patrol, and then watch a movie with Aunt May.

Mr. Stark gave him a weird look, and for a moment Peter was wondering if the man could read his mind. He got more and more nervous the longer the silence went on, but he spared a look over to Harley, and the other boy was finally giving the barest of smiles. Apparently leaving was a good decision, then.

“Ya,” Mr. Stark finally spoke, “Sure kid. Just give me a text when you get home, ok?”

“‘Kay. Bye Mr. Stark,” he turned around heading towards the elevator, “By Harley.”

Peter swung home. It was the best way to get his mind off of things. He wasn’t necessarily looking to help people out, but he stopped by a few people who needed his help. There was nothing serious, but it made him feel better. Just something as simple as helping someone find their way around, or helping a young lady get to a subway station, anything like that, helped Peter feel a little lighter. The anger he felt at the Tower slowly seeped away, and soon he felt good enough to go home.

He entered through his bedroom window, changing into pyjamas, and sauntered into the kitchen of the apartment.

“Peter?” Aunt May’s voice rang with concern, “I wasn’t expecting you home tonight. Did something happen?”

She set down the knife she was holding and walked over to Peter, placing her hands on his cheeks as she checked him over for any injuries. Peter just shook his head and wrapped his arms around her.

“No, I just missed you,” he lied. He didn’t know how to tell Aunt May that Tony replaced him with some kid from Tennessee.

Aunt May hummed, brushing her hands through his hair. Peter could tell she didn’t believe him, but she didn’t press any further, so he appreciated that at least. They stayed like that for a few moments, Peter enjoying the warmth of the hug until—

“Aunt May? Whatever you had on the stove is on fire,” Peter mumbled.

“What!” And just like that, the hug was over. His aunt ran over to the stove, turning it off as quick as she could and fanning out the flames. “Why didn’t your… your… Peter Tingle—”

“Spidey Sense”

“Say anything? Can’t you tell when something is about to happen,” her voice cracked as she tried to get the flames under control.

“It doesn’t like… always pick up on everything, May. It just does, sometimes?” Peter shrugged, “I don’t really know how it works.”

“Well, figure it out would you? So we can avoid any more kitchen fires, at least.”

“I think we can do that if you just stop trying to cook,” Peter laughed.

“Hardy har, laugh it off, Pete. I guess we’re ordering in for the night, does Thai sound good?” There was soft clanging as she placed the pan in the sink, turning to give Peter a look that only Aunt May could.

“Ya,” Peter smiled, “That sounds good.”

He and Aunt May watched old rom coms all Friday night, and Peter chose to sleep in on Saturday, something he didn’t do very often. His plan for today was to get some homework done and then Ned and he were supposed to build the Lego Death Star before Peter went on patrol. That was all put to a stop when at 9 AM Peter rolled out of bed to the sound of his phone ringing.

“W’ss’p’” he mumbled, still half asleep.

“Are you asleep right now? At—oh, it’s 9 in the morning. But still, that’s pretty late for a boy genius like yourself,” Mr. Stark’s voice echoed.

“I’s Saturd’y M’ss’r St’rk,” Peter yawned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, trying to get his mind to clear up, “I get to sleep in.”

“Mhm, well, get that lazy Spider butt up,” Peter could practically hear Mr. Stark rolling his eyes, “We missed out on our lab night last night, so how do you feel about coming over today? You can even stay over tonight if you’d like, I got Harley set up in his own room now.”

Peter immediately perked up. Clearly, this meant that Mr. Stark still wanted him around, especially if he was reaching out to him first. It meant he’d have to cancel on Ned though, and he probably wouldn’t start his patrol until later, but… well, it was worth it.

“Ya, that sounds good Mr. Stark. I can be there at like, noon?” It would give him a couple of hours to eat breakfast, get started on his homework, and text Ned to cancel their plans. His friend would be disappointed, he was sure, but he’d understand. Peter would tell him they could do it next weekend. Plus, Mr. Stark didn’t mention anything about Harley, so Peter was hoping it would just be his mentor and him. It would give him an opportunity to work on some Spider-Man updates that he had thought of, plus he needed to fix some minor bugs.

It was nothing serious, but a couple of nights ago he had swung face-first into a wall after getting distracted, and it had hurt the coms in Peter’s suit. Mr. Stark knew about it and they were supposed to fix it last night until Harley happened, so Peter was sure it would get fixed tonight.

“Sound good, kid. Just head into the lab when you get here, I’ll have some lunch waiting for you.”

“See you then, Mr. Stark!”

Peter did a small flip off of his bed, excitement making him restless. He’d been so upset and worried that he was being replaced by Harley, but clearly, he wasn’t! Mr. Stark obviously still wanted him around. He popped his head out of his bedroom door, shouting out “Aunt May! I’m going over to the Tower in a couple of hours!”

Aunt May turned from her place on the couch, looking up at Peter with a raised eyebrow. “It’s Saturday,” she said as if that was an explanation for her confusion. And, in her defense, it was. Peter was only ever at the Tower on Saturdays if he woke up there in the first place, he rarely went there if he had slept at home.

“Ya, but with our lab night getting canceled last night Mr. Stark wanted to do it today, so I’ll probably be there all day, or at least until I go out on patrol,” Peter shrugged, trying to play it off as no big deal. But Aunt May looked at him with an all-knowing look and Peter was sure she knew more than she was letting on. “Well, as long as you get your homework finished it's fine,” was all she said.

Peter nodded, quickly going back to his desk and getting to work. There wasn’t much to do and he was sure he could finish most of it, at least, before he had to get to Mr. Stark’s.

Peter may have overestimated his ability to get his work done in time by just a bit. He had been planning on taking the subway to the Tower but found himself in need of swinging, and even when he swung all the way there he was fifteen minutes late. Not the worst, but he felt like it was different today. Different because now Mr. Stark had another “kid” he could work with.

He changed quickly in an alley outside the Tower and entered through the backdoor as usual. There was a happy skip to Peter's step as he got into Mr. Stark’s personal elevator, with his bag slung on one shoulder. Despite the fact that this messed up his schedule, Peter was just glad he was actually going to spend some time with Mr. Stark. His only hope was that Harley wouldn't be there.

“Good afternoon Mr. Parker,” F.R.I.D.A.Y spoke, “Would you like me to bring you up to Boss’ lab?”

“Yes please, F.R.I.”

The elevator was small and fast, and despite the fact that Mr. Stark’s lab was on the 90-something-th floor it only took a matter of seconds for Peter to arrive. He walked through the halls with ease, his muscle memory bringing him straight to the lab. There was a slight tingle from his Spidey Sense, but Peter paid it no mind. It was probably because he had been so upset when he was in the Tower last night. Plus, his Spidey Sense was just like… anxiety, but for superheroes. He put his hand against the sensor and the doors opened for him.

“Hey Mr. Star—” he froze.

There was a lanky, tall body sitting at his spot. At his desk.

“Hey,” the other boy mumbled, not lifting his head from where he was staring at something on the— no, on Peter’s —desk. “The old man’s gonna be back in a few, he said he had something to do.”

“He’s not that old,” Peter mumbled, feeling the sudden need to stick up for his mentor. He knew or at least had a feeling that Harley was just teasing Mr. Stark. It seemed like it was their dynamic, but still. “F.R.I. could you let Mr. Stark know that I’m here, please?”

“Right away, Mr. Parker,” she replied.

“You’re uh,” Peter shifted uncomfortably, “You’re at my desk.” There was a bit to his tone, one that he hadn’t done on purpose, but he didn’t correct himself.

“What? Are you gonna go cry about it to mommy?” Harley finally lifted his head from whatever was so important on the desk, but only to roll his eyes, “I don’t see your name written on it anywhere.”

That’s because it doesn’t need to be, Peter wanted to say, because only he and Mr. Stark went into this lab.

But instead, he just shrugged, “It’s where I work,” was all he could say. The anger was starting to boil in his stomach again, and Peter could feel the tinge of… something. Jealousy? But that wasn’t like Peter. He never got jealous. Uncle Ben taught him better than that.

And yet, he couldn’t think of another word for the emotion he was feeling towards Harley. Harley was replacing him. He took Peter’s “Mr. Stark Time” away from him, he disrupted Peter’s carefully planned out schedule, he took Peter’s nickname, took his spot in the lab, and took his room. Mr. Stark was replacing Peter with Harley, so ya. He was jealous. Sue him.

“God, are you such a goody-two-shoes that you have to come into work on the weekend? Can’t you just like, go home? Tony has me here right now, so he doesn’t need any more help,” Harley gives a glare before going back to whatever he was working on.

Peter bristled, opening his mouth to retort back. But he didn’t know what to say. That he and Mr. Stark were close? Obviously not close enough for Mr. Stark to remember when they were meeting, or be there on time, or mention that there would be some other kid interrupting their time together.

And speaking of the devil, right at that moment Mr. Stark walked in. There was a tense silence in the air, and Mr. Stark looked back and forth between the two teens. Just like Aunt May, Peter had a feeling that Mr. Stark knew more than he was letting onto. But then, the man just sighed, took off his iconic sunglasses, and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“You two catching up with each other?”

“Uh, ya, I guess,” Peter shrugged, hovering awkwardly over his desk. He had things in it, important things. Spider-Man things. Things he didn’t want some stranger looking through. He shot Mr. Stark a look, trying to convey exactly that with just his face. He furrowed his eyebrows, sharply pointing his head to the desk, and luckily, Mr. Stark nodded.

“Hey, uh, kid,” And fuck. There was that name again. This time Peter knew it wasn’t directed at him, Mr. Stark was looking directly at Harley, “That’s Pete’s desk, and he’s kind of got a system, so why don’t you move to the end of it, gives you both room to work there, ok? We’ll get another desk set up soon.”

Harley raised his head, huffing slightly, but he moved over wordlessly. Or, almost wordlessly. If Peter didn’t have super hearing he wouldn’t have heard it, and Mr. Stark definitely didn’t hear it. “Neurotic much, eh?” Harley mumbled under his breath.

Peter tensed. Harley was treating him no better than how Flash did, and it was causing him to be on edge. His Spidey Sense wouldn’t stop tingling. It wasn’t telling him that there was an immediate danger, but it was like it knew that Harley didn’t like him.

Nonetheless, Peter sat down at his spot, making sure to sit at the opposite end of the long table, just so that Harley wouldn’t be able to see what he was working on. He guessed that he and Mr. Stark would have to wait to repair the coms in his suit. They couldn’t exactly pull it up in front of Harley. Because of Secret Identities and all that. But that was ok. Peter could work on updating his web formula.

He’d had a few ideas on how to improve it. One, he’d really like to make a set of quick-dissolving webs, because 2 hours was sometimes a bit much. He also wanted to see if he could develop his webs to be able to cover injuries. Right now he was able to do it on himself, but he knew that it had chemicals in it that would be unsafe for broken skin. The only reason he used it on himself was because of his healing factor; it wouldn’t be able to do any lasting damage. But it could probably cause light chemical burns on regular people.

He brought out some scraps on paper, as well as a sheet that had his original web formula on it, and got to work. It was silent for the most part, Peter usually preferred to work in silence, only chatting with Mr. Stark on and off. But today Peter didn’t say a word. Even Harley was quiet for the first little while. But then, he kept speaking up, asking Mr. Stark to come over and look over his work, or making little quips. Peter kept his head down, feeling more like a stranger in the lab than he ever had before. It was hard, he didn’t always know what the other two were talking about, and the one time he had tried to join the conversation he had just gotten a small glare from Harley.

So, Peter just sighed and kept his head down and focused on his work. He was making good progress on the equations so he’d be able to test it out soon. He worked on his webbing so often that it was practically second nature at this point. Slowly the hours ticked by, and Peter found himself ready to test it out. The first one to test out was the quick dissolving webs because Peter felt like it was most important. He was really starting to get complaints from the police who kept finding criminals webbed up to the wall. Apparently, it was hard to get out of. Who knew.

“Mr. Stark, do you think you could come and check this out for a second?” Peter asked, ignoring the fact that the man was with Harley. Surely he could spare a couple of minutes.

“Just a minute Pete,” the man hummed, scratching his beard as he peered down at Harley’s work.

So Peter waited, and waited, and waited. In reality, he probably only waited about 15 minutes, but it felt like ages as he watched his mentor interact with Harley. Finally, Peter stood up and grabbed a couple of vials and chemicals from the shelf, sighed a bit as he did. And no, he was not pouting at all, and if F.R.I.D.A.Y said anything different he was going to reboot her.

Eventually, Mr. Stark comes over, just as Peter is setting everything down at his desk. He gives Peter a look that distinctly says “really?” and Peter just shrugs. It wasn’t like Harley paid him enough attention to really get that he was working on Spider-Man stuff.

“Looks good, Pete, go ahead and move to testing it out,” the man ruffles his head and Peter shoots him a grateful smile.

There were so many emotions going on in Peter’s head, and he really didn’t know what to think, but he was happy to get some attention from Mr. Stark. Maybe he really was just jealous of Harley. He wasn’t used to sharing Mr. Stark’s attention, and it was a lot to get used to. And yet, even with that knowledge, Peter couldn’t make the burning anger go away.

And, Peter couldn’t say he felt good about his current emotions, but when Harley’s head shot up when Mr. Stark praised him he couldn’t help but feel a little smug.

He was here in the lab for a reason, after all. Mr. Stark would never work with an idiot weekly.

Well, debatable, because Peter knew he was kind of an idiot sometimes, but that was more street smarts. He knew that when it came to science he was nowhere near being an idiot.

Just as the silence was coming over the three of them again, Mr. Stark’s phone rang.

“Rhodey? Ya, no I’m free, what's up?” Mr. Stark called out, probably louder than he needed to, “Wait one sec.”

“Hey, you two, I’m just going to head to the common room for a second, you’re good here by yourselves?” He gave them both a suspicious glare, but both boys nodded, “Ok good, don’t die, have fun, all that jazz. I’ll be back in a minute.”

And then he left.

And Peter knew what the man was doing. He was never the most subtle person in the room. Or in the world, probably. But that was what made him Tony Stark, and it was one of the qualities Peter admired in Mr. Stark. He was always confident and sure about his decisions. Even if that decision was forcing two teenagers to spend some time together, despite the fact that they clearly didn’t like each other. Plus, it helped that he had super hearing, so he could hear Mr. Stark say, “Rhodey, I just don’t know what to do with them” as he walked away from the lab.

“God,” Harley bemoaned, getting up to walk closer to Peter, “You’re such a pest, you know that? Like you literally work here every week, but I can't even get a full day to hang out with Tony? You’ve always got to pop up in one way or another, fucking annoying.”

Peter forced his lips together, trying to hold in an outburst that was surely going to happen, and just shrugged. “It’s my work, I like it,” he said through clenched teeth, “And you’re the one who showed up during our workday, that’s not my fault.”

“Can’t you just like, leave him alone for fucks sake. He’s probably annoyed too. Like, just go home,” Harley sighed, and Peter’s Spidey Sense immediately perked up. Something was wrong.

He looked up at Harley just as he was pouring a vial of chemicals into his web mixture, peering at the other boy to see what was causing his Spidey Sense to go off. But the brunette was just standing there with his arms crossed, and— was that? Was that a pout? Weird.

But Peter didn’t get to think about it anymore, because before he knew it his body was moving without him thinking about it. He could feel the heat against his back as he grabbed Harley’s arm and shoved him down, blocking the other boy with his own body. There was a loud BOOM, and the room shook slightly, and for a moment Peter was sure it was going to collaps—

No, he thought, don’t think about that right now.

And it was over just as fast as it had happened. He felt some minor burns on his back and arms, but nothing feels too amiss, other than the adrenaline that was currently pumping through his body. So Peter took a chance, and stood up, quickly looking around the room and down at Harley, who was now sitting on the floor. The other boy looked fine, though there were hints of a mild burn on his right arm. But the lab, on the other hand… well it was a mess.

The web formula had clearly exploded, and there were sticky webs all over the room. The vial he had been mixing it in was broken, and there was a small fire over the table, which Dum-E quickly came to extinguish.

Peter just looked around with wide eyes, his hands shaking from the adrenaline, as Harley looked up at him with equally wide, and concerned eyes.

“Fuck—” Peter began to sigh, but he didn't get to finish the sentiment before the doors to the lab were swung open.

“What the hell happened in here?” Mr. Stark burst through the lab, sounding just as out of breath as Peter felt. His eyes held a fire in them, but he looked equally angry, concerned, and disheveled.

And Peter doesn’t remember a time he’s been this afraid to face Mr. Stark. Probably not since the Ferry incident. But he fucked up this time. He hadn’t been paying attention when he was grabbing chemicals, nor pouring them, and he caused an explosion. He was just happy it was minor.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark, I got distracted,” Peter mumbled his head down as he refused to face his mentor.

“Distracted?” the man shouted, and Peter was almost certain that he was angry enough to breathe fire, “You know you can’t get distracted in the lab, and especially not when you’re handling chemicals Peter! You know better than that!”

“I know, I jus—”

“No, Pete. The adult is talking now, listen,” Mr. Stark put up a hand, and for the first time, Peter looked at the man’s face. He looked angry but also concerned. “If you were tired or hungry or something you should have let me know, I wouldn’t have made you come in today, but you cannot, be distracted. What if there had been a bigger explosion Peter? What if people got hurt? Were you not thinking at all?”

“I’m sorry,” Peter’s voice quivered.

And at that, Mr. Stark paused, took a breath, and ran a hand through his hair. He looked calmer, and Peter was sure he was going to walk over and tell Peter that he was sorry for yelling. But instead—

“Harley,” Mr. Stark spoke, and Peter’s shoulders deflated, “Go up to MedBay. I want to talk with Peter alone for a second.”

And for once, the brunette left the pair without saying anything. Apparently, the trick to get Harley to be quiet was to cause a minor explosion. Who knew.

Mr. Stark waited a few moments before turning back to Peter. It was clear he was still mad, but Peter didn’t think he was going to yell anymore.

“Peter, what were you doing? How could you get so distracted that you poured the wrong chemical? What if you had gotten hurt?”

“I heal fast, Mr. Stark,” And, ok ya. Maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say to the man who was clearly concerned about him. But it was true! The burns would be gone by tomorrow.

Mr. Stark just sighed and ran a hand down his face. He took a few deep breaths, and Peter instantly recognized it as a tactic for the man to hold in his anger.

“Fine then,” it clearly didn’t work well enough, as Mr. Stark snapped at Peter with such venom that the boy took a visible step back, “What if Harley got hurt? He doesn’t have any superpowers, Pete, he can’t heal like you can. Sure, you can’t get hurt, but he could have gotten really hurt. If it was worse, he could have died, Peter.”

And at that, Peter’s eyes welled up with tears. Mr. Stark was clearly concerned about Harley, and clearly mad at Peter. Did he not see that it was the other boy who put Peter so on edge, so tense, and that was why Peter made the mistake?

“I’m… Mr. Stark, I didn’t mean—”

“I know. But Peter, this can’t happen. You’re going to have to go home for the day, and we’ll see about next Friday. I haven’t decided if you get lab privileges or not.”

Tears began to fall, but Mr. Stark either didn’t notice or didn’t care. He was quick to turn on his heels and walk towards MedBay, where Harley was. Because of course. Peter was beginning to feel like a fool. It was obvious that Mr. Stark and Harley were close, and were “connected” as Harley had said earlier. And Peter? Well Mr. Stark only spoke to Peter in the first place because of Spider-Man, not because of Peter Parker. Sure, Mr. Stark clearly cared for him, and wanted him around, but not in the same way as Harley. Peter was never invited to stay at the Tower for more than a night, not like Harley, and Mr. Stark was clearly more concerned about Harley’s safety than Peter’s.

(That’s not quite right though, is it? Somewhere deep down Peter knew he was just getting worked up, and he was just overly anxious and jealous. He knew Mr. Stark cared for him just as much as always, and he knew that Mr. Stark liked both Peter and Spider-Man. But right now? Right now Peter was too upset to think rationally. Later, he might look back on it and realize that it was a mixture of being jealous, angry, and probably the pain that came with the burns.)

Peter walked to the elevator, his head hanging in shame, as tears spilled out of his eyes. It was just a stupid mistake, but Mr. Stark was so mad at him, and only cared about Harley being ok. He sniffed, rubbing his eyes as F.R.I took him down to the lobby. “Take care, Mr. Parker,” and Peter swore he could hear a hint of concern in the AI’s voice. He shot a small smile up to the ceiling but said nothing more before leaving.

He took a deep breath once outside, trying to get in as much fresh air as he could in New York City. He walked as quickly as he could, his mind already made up about what he was going to do. He had planned to patrol after lab night anyway, and sure he was a couple of hours early and hadn’t had dinner yet, but it was fine. He’d stop by a hot dog truck or something during the patrol.

So Peter ran into an alleyway, hopping as he kicked off his shoes and changed out of his civilian clothes. Going on patrol would be a good way to use his built-up adrenaline, anyway. He could use any lasting anger and jitteriness to help people. So once he was in his suit, and his bag was webbed up high on a while, Peter got to swinging.

It was still rather early in the night, only about 5 or 6 PM, but it was the end of November so it was already dark, but even so, he wasn’t expecting much. There was a young teen that was trying to rob a small grocer early into the patrol, but all it took was Spider-Man showing his face, giving a wave and a short “Hey kid, I’ll buy that for you,” for the kid to back off. Peter didn’t really have money to be wasting, but he figured the young kid needed it. Plus, it was just a sandwich that was a couple of dollars, it wouldn’t kill Peter to lose that amount of money.

Peter swung around for another hour, and nothing much happened. He stopped a group of bullies and walked the poor kid home, but other than that Peter just swung and kept an eye out. It was when Peter was sitting on the edge of a roof, peering down onto the streets and keeping a careful eye out for any trouble that he heard it;

“Hey! Fuck off!” and even though Peter had only known the guy for just over a day, he already knew his voice like the back of his hand.

It was hard to forget the voice of the guy who was replacing you.

(But he wasn’t, and Peter knew that. Or would know that, once he calmed down.)

And for a brief second, a second that Peter was not proud of, he hesitated. It wasn’t like he didn’t like Harley, sure, he wasn’t the guy’s biggest fan, but he didn’t deserve to be attacked. But, shit. Really? Really? The guy that's been at Peter’s throat all day, the guy that Peter was mad at, is getting attacked and now Peter has to go save him. Because of course, he does.

So Peter swings down, climbing down the wall straight above Harley. There was a guy with mangly blonde hair and a hand that was roughly holding Harley against a wall. When Peter looked closer he could see a gun in the guy’s other hand, which was being pushed right into Harley’s stomach.

“Listen, I literally, don’t have anything, man,” Harley said, and Peter could tell he was trying to stay brave, trying to put on a show, but he could hear the shake in his voice. And wow, Harley reminded Peter of Mr. Stark.

“Look at your fucking shoes, your jacket, I know money when I see one,” the man sneered, shoving his gun further into Harley’s stomach, “So pay u—”

“Hey man! Stealing isn’t nice!” Peter chose that moment to jump down, giving the man a kick to the shoulder to get him to back off Harley.

“Fuck off bug boy,” the man spat, trying to take a step closer to Harley again, but Peter stood directly between the two.

“I feel like purposefully calling me by the wrong name is just rude, I mean come on! I have a spider on my chest,” Peter rolled his eyes, throwing his hands up in the air for good measure, “But if that's how it's gonna be I’m gonna call you Mr. dumbface, cause really your face is annoying me right now,”

There was silence.

“Ok, so I’m a little out of it today, but a little laugh would’ve been nice,” he turned back to Harley, who was staring at him with a slightly gaped mouth.

“You… you’re… Really?” was all Harley stuttered. And, ok, ya. Maybe Peter should have seen it coming that he wasn’t the only one who could recognize voices.

“Listen we’ll talk about it later, ok, lemme just web this gu—”

“I’m not going back to jail!” the guy yelled, suddenly a lot more defensive than he had been before. And Peter didn’t like that. A guy with a gun? Easy-peasy, just had to disarm him. Usually, they didn’t even want to use their weapon. But an angry, defensive guy with a gun? Well, that was significantly more difficult to deal with.

Peter had a split second of warning when his Spidey Sense went off. It wasn’t enough, he knew it wasn’t. But his instinct kicked in and he grabbed Harley’s arm, shoving him to the ground just like he had done earlier today.

And really, Peter needed to stop with constant, daily, accidents. This was getting a bit much.

There were three shots, the first two went into Peter's stomach, and the second in his right shoulder. He grunted but didn’t fall. He gave the guy a good punch in the face, knocking him down to the ground.

“That…” Peter grunted, kicking the gun away, “That was rude.”

He quickly webbed the guy up, sparing no amount of webs to ensure that he would stay on the ground for a while. He stumbled back, placing a hand over his stomach as he tried to assess the damage. He didn’t think the bullets hit anything important, but he also couldn’t tell if they were still in him or not. What he did know is that he was bleeding fast.

A hand landed on Peter’s shoulder, and his first instinct was to attack. His Spidey Senses were going haywire, everything felt like a threat. He went to spin and web up whoever was grabbing him, but he was beginning to feel dizzy and practically tripped over his own two feet. And fuck, he felt like shit.

“Hey! Hey! It’s me, it’s me. It’s Harley,” the brunette said, leading Peter to sit on the ground, away from the mugger.

“You’re… You’re bleeding, like a lot. What… What do we do?” and this was the first time Peter ever heard Harley sound unsure of himself.

Peter’s first instinct was to ask Karen to call Mr. Stark, so he did exactly that. But his mind was starting to get foggy, and it felt like there were cotton balls in his mouth. Every word was a struggle, and every breath hurt, and fuck he just wants to be at the Tower so Mr. Stark and Dr. Cho can patch him up again.

“Kaaareeenn,” Peter mumbled, each syllable feeling like another stab to his stomach, “Karen… Kareeeen,” He kept calling out for her, but the AI is strangely quiet.

There’s a reason she doesn't answer though, and Peter knows it… but he can’t remember. His brain is too foggy, and he doesn’t really know where he is anymore, or who he wants. He just knows he needs Karen to answer him. So he kept mumbling her name.

“Oh my god, I think I broke Tony’s genius child,” Harley mumbled, and yes! Yes! That’s who Peter needs right now!

“Mi’ss’r… Mi’ss’r S’rk,” he stuttered out, nodding at Harley, who just stares at him with wide and confused eyes. Peter just continues, “Miiiis’errrrr S’arrrrk. Call. Call, Mi’ss’r S’rk. Karen, Kaareen, call Missss’r S’rk.”

And he can hear Harley mumbling above him, something about “breaking a superhero”, and how “Tony is going to kill him”, but he doesn’t really care, but wow, his stomach hurts. And his shoulder hurts. And how much blood has he lost? A lot, probably. Somewhere, deep down, Peter knew that he only got this foggy, this out of it, when there was internal bleeding. Which, ya, he didn’t like that he knew that, but what could he do? His brain wasn’t working fast enough right now though to be able to relay that information to Harley.

“Ok.. Ok… Get him to Tony, he can help. Ya, ya. That’s a good idea. Phone… Phone… ok. Ok, that’s fine, no phone. We’ll just walk back, totally fine. Just gonna walk back to Stark Towers with a bleeding … Spider… guy,” Harley kept mumbling and it was starting to get on Peter’s nerves. Why wasn’t Karen answering him?

(Because... his mind supplied unhelpfully, you were supposed to fix the coms with Mr. Stark but you never did.)

And suddenly he was being lifted up or at least helped up. “C’mon, C’mon. I need your help here, you gotta walk with me, we’re not that far from the Tower, just walk with me,” Harley kept speaking, and when Peter whined (no he didn’t, he’ll deny that if you ever ask him about it), Harley made sure to speak quieter.

Peter doesn’t remember a lot about the whole trip, but he does remember tripping and falling a couple of times, and Harley telling people to move out of their way. “Just, just a few more steps, we’re almost there and then Tony’ll fix you up, he’ll fix you up, don’t worry,” at this point, Harley was talking more for himself than he was for Peter. Peter was barely listening.

Peter doesn’t remember being taken up to the MedBay, nor does he remember Mr. Stark walking in with Dr. Cho, and he definitely doesn’t remember the surgery that was performed to get the bullets out of his stomach. Apparently, the one in the shoulder was a clean shot. He was informed of everything a few hours after he woke up.

But when Peter first woke up he looked around the room, ignoring the familiar itch of an IV in his arm. Mr. Stark was asleep in a chair in the corner. For the most part he looked calm, collected, even somehow bored in his sleep, but Peter could practically feel the tension seeping off him. Then, there was Harley, who was sitting right next to Peter’s bed, and wide awake.

“Uh… hi,” was all Harley said.

“F.R.I, can you turn down the lights please?” was all Peter had the energy to say at first. It was too bright. It was always too bright in the MedBay. Immediately, the lights turned down by 50%, and Peter mumbled out a thanks.

“Are you ok?” he turned to Harley, looking over the boy to see if there were any injuries. The only one he could see is the mild burn from earlier that day.

“Am I— am I ok? Dude, you got shot three times while wearing a red and blue spandex suit! What the fuck,” Harley looked shocked, maybe even a little angry, “God, I hate New York. You’re all so weird here, what the fuck is even happening?”

“I dunno, this feels like a normal Saturday night to me,” Peter shrugged, trying to make light of the situation. He didn’t like that the other boy was concerned over him.

“Normal? God, I hate it here,” Harley ran a hand through his hair, huffing out a laugh. There was a beat of silence before Peter broke out into a choked laugh too. Soon, the two boys were hardly able to contain themselves, Harley was doubled over laughing, and Peter was leaning back. Neither of them really knew what they were laughing about, but they both couldn’t get over the sheer ridiculousness of the situation.

“It’s actually early Sunday morning, now,” Peter’s laughter got caught off, and he snapped his neck to look at the man in the corner.

Now that Mr. Stark’s eyes were open and aware he could see that they were a little red and a little swollen. But Peter was more focused on the whole “Sunday” thing.

“Aunt May!” he bolted up from bed, ready to get dressed right that minute.

“Has already been contacted,” Mr. Stark sighed, “Really, who do you take me for?”

Peter didn’t answer, he just shrugged and continued to look at his sheets. He was still feeling shitty about the explosion, and he didn’t know how to face the man. At least, though, his mind had cleared up from his previous anger and jealousy. Obviously, Mr. Stark cared about Peter and wanted him around, the tear marks on his face proved it.

“Listen, both of you...” Mr. Stark trailed off, and both boys kept their eyes on the man, waiting for him to speak. “I’m sorry I blew up at both of you today,” and at that Peter sent Harley a look, who just shrugged and mouthed ‘I’ll tell you later’, “I shouldn’t have yelled, but honestly? You’re both annoying little shits, and you worried me.”

“Peter’s the worse one,” Harley muttered.

“Says the guy who got mugged on his second night in New York,” Peter shot a teasing look.

“Hey! Tony told me to go for a walk! What was I supposed to do?”

“Bring your phone for one,” Mr. Stark chimed in.

Both boys looked at him sharply, “We’re not talking to you.”

There was a beat of silence before the two teens broke out into laughter again, and Mr. Stark just sighed.

“I can’t believe I’ve spent two days trying to get you two to like each other, and all it took was a mugging, getting shot 3 times, and getting both of you to save each other,” he rolled his eyes, “I’ll write that down for next time.”

“To be fair, you maybe should have warned both of us that you were going to try to force a new friendship,” Peter mentioned.

“Don’t be too hard on him, Old man is old enough that he’s probably got dementia or some shit,” Harley chipped in.

“He does forget things a lot, one time he forgot to wear pants to a meeting,”

“That was one time!”

“Ya, ok Mr. Stark.”

“My God, between the two of you, I’ve created a monster,” Mr. Stark sighed as Harley cackled, “Go ahead. Laugh all you want. I’ll be in the kitchen, eating normal human food that a certain Mr. Parker won’t get until the literal holes in his stomach are healed. And Harley? I just don't want to feed you, so suffer.”

And with that, the man left. Both teens laughed briefly, rolling their eyes at their mentor.

“Listen, I’m sorry I was hard on you earlier,” Harley finally spoke up, “I was just excited to spend time with Tony. I haven’t seen him in, jeez, like four years? And it was a bit of a shock to find out I had to share him.”

Peter shook his head, “No, I’m sorry too. I wasn’t very welcoming to you, and I definitely didn’t make any effort.”

There was a silence, an awkward one that Peter wanted to fill.

“I uh, well. I don’t really have a lot of men in my life, not a lot of father figures I guess. I had my Uncle Ben, but he died… a while ago. And well, Mr. Stark stepped up a few months ago, and I guess I kinda latched on a bit too much. I was jealous when you came,” he shrugged, whispering the last part.

Because, God, it was so hard to admit to someone that you were jealous of them. But it had to be done, especially if Harley was staying at the Tower for a couple weeks.

“Jealous of me?” Harley sounded shocked.

“Ya, I mean. He like, didn’t even text me to cancel our lab night, and he gave you my room, and you were with us for our lab day, and we didn’t even do our movie night. I thought you were replacing me, which is stupid, I know now,

“Dude. Tony’s known I was coming here two weeks ahead of time and literally forgot to set me up a room. I showed up at the front door and he was still shocked. He didn’t forget to text you, he forgot I was coming,”

“Oh.”

“Ya, oh. And, well, I’m only here because of family stuff,” Harley paused, and Peter could see that he was debating whether or not he should continue.

“My sister got sick. Cancer, they said, so she and my mom had to go to the hospital while she gets treatment. And my mom, well, she didn’t want me home alone, and she knew she couldn’t really take care of me and my sick sister. So Tony said I could stay here for a few weeks until they were back home. So I wasn’t here to replace you, I’m just a charity case,” and Peter’s heart practically broke at the way Harley’s shoulders sagged. He knew that feeling.

Mr. Stark wasn’t the best at letting people know his true intentions, and it was easy to feel like you were a burden to the man. Peter should know, he was President of feeling that way.

“Harley, listen. I’ve only known Mr. Stark for like, a few months now. Less than a year,” he started, “But I know for a fact that he doesn’t let just anyone stay in the Tower. He only lets people he really, really, cares about in here. And his lab! Plus I see how he talks with you! You’ve got him wrapped around your finger,”

“Says you,”

“Well then the two of us together? We can get anything we want,” and that made Harley laughed.

They settled into another silence, this one much less awkward. The only sounds were of their breathing and of the machines beeping.

“So, uh, Spider, eh?” Harley raised an eyebrow, “Are you some sort of bug superhero?”

“I’m Spider-Man,” Peter answered incredulously, “Haven’t you heard of me?”

“Uh, no?”

“The Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man?” Harley shook his head, “Crap, I’ve gotta start working outside of New York, I guess.”

“So are you a mutant?”

“What?” Peter laughed, “Nah, until about a year ago I was totally normal, less than even. Asthmatic, and I needed glasses, and honestly a strong gust of wind could’ve knocked me over.”

“What changed?”

“Radioactive spider,” Peter shrugged as if it answered everything.

Harley barked out a laugh, “What?”

“It bit me, now I’m like, part spider I guess.”

“Shit… That’s wild,”

“Ya,”

And with that, both boys were silent again, this time both of their breathing began getting shallower and shallower, and before they knew it they were passed out. The last thing Peter heard was Mr. Stark walking by the room again,

“Monsters, the two of them.”

#my fics #irondad #spiderson #irondad fic #spiderman fic #peter parker fic #harley keener #jealousy fic #peter parker #tony stark

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hoboal87 · 4 years

Text

Elastic Heart Chapter One

Characters: Y/N Y/L/N, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, John Winchester, OFCs

Pairing(s): None

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N sees a familiar set of eyes in the crowd, and remembers the first time she saw them and how they changed her life.

Word Count: 4300+

Warnings: Show level violence, cursing, pre-Stanford era Winchesters

Notes: Series will be mostly canon compliant, taking place during season 8/9. Also, for purposes of this fic Sam was born in '84 instead of '83.

Please give a comment or reblog and let me know what you think!

Elastic Heart Masterlist

Chapter One - Senior Year

“Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N”

I don’t hear my name being called, I’m in my own world, looking out into the crowd for a set of familiar eyes. I spot them three rows back and smile. It’s been too long since I’ve seen them, and I miss the days where I would see those eyes nearly every day.

Life as a nursing student consists of going to class, lab work, interning at a hospital, and occasionally sleeping. I’ve spent the past two years doing nothing but that. I’ve always been one to do things early, but this was the one thing that, for once, I was on par with my peers. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. From the first time I saw those eyes, they altered my life, sending me down a path that I never planned to be on. Taking longer than we had thought, but eventually, I got back on track.

Finish school and get my fresh start. That had been my goal for the past two years. Move on, with or without those eyes in my life. I wanted them, but I knew that logically, it couldn’t happen. Our lives were too different, especially now. I lost my chance of having them with me always; now, I could only cherish the holidays and long weekends that allowed us to be together.

“Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N,” the announcer’s voice contains a bit of urgency this time, drawing my attention. I step across the stage, shaking my supervisor’s hand, and receive my metaphorical diploma. I look back out into the audience and connect with those eyes again, wide and filled with joy. I take my seat and think back to the first time I saw them and how they changed my life forever.

Fall, 2002

This was it, the first day of my senior year. This is the year I will prove to everyone that I am no longer a kid. This is the year, mom and dad will see that I can act like an adult and make ‘good choices’ but, I’m determined to have just a little fun.

For the last two years, mom and dad have insisted that I take extra courses and go to summer school to ensure I graduate not only with good grades but early. I’ll graduate in the spring and be off to college in the fall. All I really want is to wait, take a year or two, experience life outside of my parents’ house.

I make the point to do as many high school activities as I can. Activities that they discouraged me from doing for the last two years; choir, volleyball, anything that will get me out of the house but still considered a school activity. I joined the decorating committee, wanting to participate in homecoming as much as possible. I know as long as I do nothing life-altering, I’m gonna be free in May.

“Be mindful of your grades, Y/N,” dad said, reading over all the consent forms, “if they slip, you will need to cut these extracurricular activities.”

“They won’t slip, dad.” I roll my eyes. “It’s my last year, let me have a bit of fun, please?”

“Your average drops below an A, and I’m pulling you out of each one of these clubs, understood?”

“Yes, sir.” I mull over telling him the other part of my plan. “I was… thinking about getting a job.” I look down, not wanting to make eye contact. “Something part-time?”

“I don’t think that’s the best idea, Y/N,” mom enters the room, “You’re going to be so busy already, tell her Rob.”

“Your mother has a point, and if they accept you to all these clubs, when will you even have time?”

“I may not even end up in the choir or the volleyball team,” I argue, “and if I don’t I’ll have a free period every day, I can talk to the counselor about making it my last class and—it’s my Senior Year, please, don’t you guys think I deserve a little more credit than this? I should get to experience a little bit of independence, don’t you think? I’m gonna be away at college in a year, I’m probably gonna have some on-campus job, I need to learn how to balance between the two.” I catch my breath, hoping that they will agree.

“Fine,” dad sighs heavily, “the same deal goes. Your grades slip, no more working. Am I making myself clear?”

“Yes!” I throw my arms around him, “Thank you!”

“Maybe you could get a job at the clinic,” mom chimes in, “get some experience in the field?”

“I don’t think anyone wants a sixteen-year-old working at the clinic, Sarah. Maybe at the drugstore, though?”

“Yeah,” I sit on the couch, “maybe.”

I discreetly start looking at apartments that could be for rent after graduation. I look on the outskirts of town and find a garage apartment that a very sweet older lady agrees to rent to me if it is still unoccupied over the summer. Finding a job gets put on the back burner as the school year moves into full swing. It turns out I can’t sing, and I suck at volleyball, but the coach offers me the position of manager, allowing me to still participate with the team at pep rallies and travel with them on away games. As the season comes to a close, and with Thanksgiving break around the corner, I decide it’s time to actively look for a job.

The trouble is finding someone willing to hire a 16-year-old high school student with no experience. I try some local retail stores, but I know that mom and dad will never go for the hours they want me to work. I walk into Joe’s Burgers, my favorite place to get some dinner and continue looking through the classifieds.

“Hey, Y/N/N,” I look over and wave to the man behind the counter.

“Hey, Dan, can I get a Bacon—"

“Your usual?” he cuts me off, smiling.

“Yes, please,” I look down sheepishly, handing him the exact amount of money without being told the total.

“Whatcha got there?” he nods towards the paper that’s now on the counter as he hands me my receipt.

“Oh, I’m just looking for a job,” I tuck the paper under my arms. “Need to earn some money so I can get outta this town after graduation.”

“What’s wrong with the town,” his face grows serious, “I’ve lived here my whole life.”

“Shit—I mean, n-nothing. Fuck."

“Y/N/N!” Dan bursts into laughter, “I’m just messing with you! You think you’re the first person who hates living here? We’re a small-ass town in the middle of nowhere.”

“You’re such a jerk,” I say, relieved, “I’ll be in my spot, okay?” He tries to contain his laughter as I walk away, making my way to my usual table. I flip through the pages, seeing nothing that would really work for me.

“You know Joe has been talking about hiring another cashier,” Dan says, bringing my food over, “and you’re practically here all the time anyway, you may as well make some money while you’re at it. You want me to talk to him?”

“Really? Do you think he’d hire me? I can’t stay late on week-nights because of school, mom and dad would kill me.”

“Yeah, we need someone to work the register, Jana can’t do it all herself. Whaddya think?”

“Oh, my god Dan, that would be amazing!” I get up and throw my arms around him to give him a hug. I watch as Dan walks to the back of the restaurant, after a few minutes he returns, giving me the thumbs-up. Before I leave, he gives me paperwork to fill out and a uniform, telling me to return the next day for training.

For three days, I train, working with Jana on the register. She is a few years older than me, with absolutely no filter. She always has me hunched over, laughing at something she has said or done. The lunches are busier than usual with the break. On Friday, she decides it’s time to leave me on my own, ‘best way to learn,’ she quips.

I’ve never been a social butterfly, and the thought of having to deal with customers on my own genuinely terrifies me for a few moments. After giving myself a small pep talk, I turn around to see three large men waiting for me.

The shortest of the three looks at me, and leans over the counter, “I’m here, what are your other two wishes?” he asks, flashing me a wink.

“I’m sorry?” I can’t believe this guy is serious.

“My brother and I were wondering,” he gestures to the tallest of the three, “if it hurt when you fell from heaven?”

“W-what?” I feel the heat pooling in my cheeks.

“Dean, knock it off, we’re here to work.” the older man behind him smacks him upside his head, and I have to stifle my laughter. He offers a sympathetic smile toward me.

“Did your mother drop you on your head when you were a baby?” I shot back; it was the only thing I could think of, albeit an awful comeback.

“It’s okay, just blink if you want me,” I stare straight into those green eyes for a solid 10 seconds before turning away.

“Dean, leave the girl alone, how old are you doll?” he asks, turning to me.

“Sixteen,” I say, watching as he rolls his eyes at the other two.

“See, are you trying to go to jail, son?” he says, looking at me apologetically “I’m sorry my sons are two walking hormones.”

“I didn’t even say anything!” the tall one huffs. Green-eyes shrugs and rubs the back of his head.

“Don’t even Sam, I heard you when we walked in.” Their dad grabs them by the shirts and drags them both to stand in front of me. I couldn’t believe my eyes, this man grabbing his two grown sons like they were pre-teens, “Now apologize to…” he looks at my name tag, “… Y/N.”

“Sorry, sweetheart, didn’t mean to offend you,” Green-eyes says insincerely.

“That’s fine, it’s part of the job, learning to deal with frat boys who love to mess with townies,” I smile back curtly.

“What the fu—” green-eyes is clearly trying to contain his anger, but his dad chuckles at the remark, and his brother can hardly control himself.

“Yeah, frat boy, don’t mess with the townie,” the younger one laughs, pushing his shaggy brown hair away from his face, revealing gleaming hazel eyes flecked with hints of green and blue surrounded by dark full lashes.

“Listen, Y/N,” green-eyes looks at my name tag again, “we ain’t no frat boys, in fact, we’re here becau—”

“All right, Dean, that’s enough.” His dad gives him a stern look that is clearly a silent conversation. “Since we’re off to such a wonderful start, let’s start over, yeah?”

I nod politely. These guys are clearly passing through and will be gone in a matter of hours or days, but Joe wants us to make all people, even the ones we’ll probably never see again, feel welcome.

“I’m John, you already know Dean,” he reaches his hand out towards the tall one, “and this is Sam. We’re actually looking into the recent animal-related deaths,” he says, producing a Fish and Wildlife Badge. I study it for a moment before handing it back. “We’re interviewing some of the local business owners and residents in the area of the attacks. Have you heard or seen anything usual, smelled anything weird, anything that comes to mind?”

“Oh.” I look at the three men; here I was being a bitch to the people trying to help. “Um, I just started working here a few days ago, animal attacks?” I look back up to John, who nods. “The only animals around here are coyotes, but even they’re pretty rare. I haven’t heard anything, but I keep to myself. Joe might know something, he’s the owner and knows everything about everyone.” I offer a smile.

“Is Joe in today?” John asks. His grey eyes hold so much pain as he looks at me.

“Um… yeah. He may have a few minutes now that we’ve slowed down. I can see if he can come talk to you?”

“That’d be great, thanks, Y/N.”

“Please, Y/N/N,” I say, blushing, covering my nametag, “No one really calls me Y/N.”

“Y/N/N,” he repeats, “I’d really like to speak with Joe if it’s not a problem.”

“Yeah, shit. Let me go get him,” I say, walking towards the back. “Hey Jana, I’m gonna go get Joe. Watch the register?”

“I got it,” she hollers back.

“Dude! She’s 16!” I hear who I assume is Sam whispering loudly. “Shut up! How was I supposed to know that?!”

“Dean, she’s obviously not 18. Stick to girls your own age,” John responds. “Sammy—.”

I can no longer hear the men as I reach the door to Joe’s office. Jana and Dan had both told me that his door usually stayed open, today it was not only closed, but it was locked as well. I knock, waiting for him to answer. He looks a little frazzled when he opens the door, but smiles at me, “Hey, Y/N/N, what’s up?”

“There’s a guy from Fish and Wildlife; he’s looking into the recent animal attacks? He’s asking about strange occurrences or something? I don’t know, but I know you pay attention to that kind of stuff, so he wants to talk to you.”

“I—shit, yeah, let him know I’ll be out in a few minutes,” he straightens his shirt and closes the door behind him.

I nod and head back to the front of the building. I watch as the boys and their father seem to be in deep discussion. Turning away when I realize Dean has caught me staring. I gather their food, and as I walk towards their table, I can hear that for some reason, I am the current topic of discussion, specifically, my age.

“Actually, I’ll be 17 in a month,” I quip, dropping their food, unsure of why I am engaging with this odd group of men.

“Huh?” Dean looks at me curiously.

“Well, for some reason the two of you are overly concerned with my age, I’ll be 17 next month.”

“Still illegal, Dean,” Sam smirks.

“Yeah, but right up your alley, Sammy,” Dean winks at him.

“Boys, stop treating this girl like she’s a piece of meat,” their father doesn’t even look up from his plate.

I can’t help myself, I’m usually not this brazen, but something about these outsiders coming in, I have to say it, “Well, here in the Great State of Texas the age of consent is 17, it’s not technically illegal,” and before I can stop myself I wink at Dean.

“Oh, Y/N, you are killing me here,” he says, bringing his hand to his chest. “Unfortunately, I’m gonna have to pass, but Sammy here,” Dean grabs Sam by the shoulders, “may be able to help you out.”

Sam blushes furiously; it’s actually adorable. I can feel the heat coming up in my own cheeks, and know if I stay any longer, they will see it very clearly.

“Joe’ll be out in a few minutes,” I say, turning to go back to the register. I walk away, adding a little sway in my hips as I know the younger men are watching. “Lemme know if there’s anything else I can get you,” I shoot another wink, this time in Sam’s direction.

“Thanks, Y/N/N.” John’s baritone voice carries through the restaurant.

I watch Joe take a seat with the three men, the younger boys listening and observing their father very carefully. I watch John grab something—a fork?— out of his pocket and discreetly place it in front of Joe. Why would he do such a thing? Joe and the men continue to speak for 10 minutes until the dinner rush starts, and Joe excuses himself.

The three men finish their burgers and leave the restaurant; concern etched on their faces as they have a heated conversation.

Throughout the dinner rush, I notice that Sam is stationed outside of the building. It looks as though he’s watching somebody. But every time I look up, his position has changed. After it grows dark, I can no longer see him outside; I realize I shouldn’t let him occupy my mind. Jana and I work furiously until a few hours later when we finally close.

“First day on your own,” Jana says, letting her hair down and hopping onto the counter. “You did good Y/N/N, only a couple mistakes.”

“Thanks, it’s not always gonna be like that, right?” I say, sighing, mimicking her actions with my own hair.

“Nah, I mean, the Friday and Saturdays will be, but unless it’s a school break, the nights are not usually too crazy,” she reassures me.

“Thank God,” I laugh, “what about the customers? Did you see those guys earlier? The ones talking to Joe?” I ask, hoping that she doesn’t pick up on the fact that I am blushing at the mention of the men.

“Oh, you mean the green-eyed one who was clearly hitting on you?” She smirks at me, “With the older guy and the really tall guy?”

“Yeah… you have an excellent memory…” I laugh, “he was so cheesy. ‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’” I mock him. “I mean, he can’t think girls really fall for that? Even the tall one knew it was a bad line.” I blushed a little, thinking about them.

“Oh my god, you like him, green-eyes.” She gasps, “You wanna jump his bones,” she sang mockingly at me, “you love him!”

“Shut up,” I threw my apron at her playfully, “I do not want to jump his bones. Besides, I’m jailbait. He’s at least 21 or so.” Jana raises her eyebrow at me. “He basically told me he couldn’t.”

“So… you’re saying you would if he was younger?” she giggles.

“Jana! No! He’s not my type. He’s way too cocky—he probably thinks he’s God’s Gift to Women,” I mock him again.

“What about the tall one? He was gorgeous,” she offers, “And the dad? He’s hot, like I will so call him Daddy. Let him just—."

“That’s way too much information, Jana. Anyway, if green-eyes is too old, how on earth is the dad not even more wrong?”

“That’s what makes it so hot… like, the wrongness of it…” she says mock fanning herself. “Okay, so clearly, the giant is the one you’re gonna have to do. You can just climb on top—" she says, moving her whole body onto the counter, “and take him for a ride.”

“Jesus, Jana.” I try to suppress my embarrassed laughter. But I blush furiously at the thought of Sam, especially with the image that Jana just planted in my head. I cover my face with my hands as I try to compose myself.

“Oh my god, you are so red!” Jana laughs, “It’s the giant! He’s the one you lo-ove!”

“I don’t even know him! They’re just passing through. You know the type, no one actually moves here. Not for real, at least. They’ll be gone in a week.”

“Y/N/N, that’s why it’s perfect. Hook up, get all that pent-up frustration out of your system, and then you’ll go your separate ways,” she offers. “Wham-bam-thank you-ma’am.”

“I’m really not into that one-night stand stuff,” I say, “I mean, what’s the point?”

“Come on, Y/N/N, that’s the point. Sometimes you just need a release. It’s not like you’re gonna fall in love with some guy you just met and hook-up with once. I mean, you’ve hooked up with guys before, right?”

I shrug my shoulders.

“Oh, my God. Y/N/N, you’re not a virgin, are you?” she whispers so that Dan and Joe won’t hear. I nod, I didn’t have a problem with my own virginity, but other people did. I know I have plenty of time. And with how busy mom and dad keep me, I have no time for boys. “Oh, okay, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I know. Besides, mom and dad don’t even like the thought of me dating; they’d make the guy ask for permission. It’s not that I would ever have time for it anyway. Either way, it’ll happen whenever it happens, and it will probably not be great the first time,” I laugh, trying to break the serious look on Jana’s face. “I have very low expectations, especially if he’s never done anything either. Most boys my age don’t know what they’re doing anyway.”

“Not to be all romantic or whatever, but you know it doesn’t have to be like that. Your first time doesn’t have to suck. It can be really nice if you get the right person.”

“I figure it will either be awesome or okay,” I laugh, “hope it’s awesome, but it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Okay, I’m gonna have one more mom moment with you, and then we can leave, okay?” she grows slightly serious, and I nod my head. “Bring condoms.” I choke out a laugh. “I’m serious. Don’t count on the guy to do it. And don’t trust the ‘pull-out’ method. Dudes always think they can time it right, and half the time…” she makes a gesture I don’t quite understand, I look at her confused. “Inside. Or at least not all the way out. And I’m sure getting pregnant isn’t a part of your grand plan.” She smiles softly. “If you ever need someone to talk about this stuff with, you can come to me, okay?”

“Thank you, if and when the day ever comes, I’ll be sure to tell you.” She raises her eyebrow. “I swear. Don’t count on it being anytime soon, though.”

Jana finishes counting the tips, and I count the register. We grab our bags, say goodbye to Dan, who’s still closing down, and Joe, who’s in the office looking at receipts.

Jana and I live about a block away from each other, and close enough to the restaurant that neither of us bothered driving. Every week it’s getting colder, and I know by the first week of December it will be too cold to walk home at night. But until then, Jana and I walk together, her house off of the main road that leads to mine.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you all the way home?” Jana asks as we reach her street.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Then you’ll have to walk back by yourself.”

“Yeah, but I’m prepared.” She pulls mace and a small knife that’s attached to her keychain out. “If someone or something tries to get me, stab stab.”

“Jesus, Jana,” I laugh out of shock. “No, I’ll be fine, how about tomorrow before work I get me one of those and then I’ll be prepared as well.”

“Fine, but call me when you get home,” she jots a number down and waves goodbye, “I’m serious Y/N/N, call me. If you don’t, I will call your parents.”

“I will,” I yell, turning back to head home.

I feel that I’m being followed. Paranoid, I know. I swear I can hear footsteps behind me, but every time I turn around, there’s nothing there. Freaking Jana, this is her fault. I’ve never had issues walking home at night before, but now I’m hearing things that I probably wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t put “I’m prepared,” in my head, now feeling like a taunt. I’m less than 5 minutes away from my house; what could possibly happen?

I hear a growling, something inhuman; it grows louder as I try to will myself to move faster. I turn the corner, and that’s when it happens, someone, something, jumps out of nowhere and starts running towards me. I try to run, but my legs won’t move, “fuck.”

I hear yelling, but I still can’t move, the creature is getting closer to me, and I get a good look at it. Claws, it has fucking claws. Its eyes are yellow, and its teeth are huge. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it was a werewolf. But werewolves don’t exist. This must be the creature that John was looking for.

‘It’s some kind of rare species of bear,’ I tell myself, ‘a bear.’

It’s only about a foot away from me; it looks like something out of a horror movie. It’s on its hind legs, unnatural noises leave its body, and before I can even move, it's swiping at me. All I can do is close my eyes and pray it doesn't kill me. A loud bang forces my eyes open, I stand there, still unable to move. I look up to see a set of familiar eyes before me, ones I hadn’t expected to see ever again. Sam.

Chapter 2

#sam x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fic #Elastic Heart #Elastic Heart 1

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ilooklikeaburntchickenugget · 4 years

Text

Summer Love: Chapter One

A/N: I’m pretty sure I just woke up this morning with this idea of ‘what if I did a high school AU Gerard x Reader at an artsy summer camp?’ so yeah, here you go. Pairing: Gerard Way x F!Reader (High school AU) Word count: 2687

After a long and harsh school year you were finally able to go and experience your favorite part of summer: sleep away camp.

Having just wrapped up your sophomore year filled with honors and AP classes amongst electives and extracurriculars which were all art, you were ready as ever to get a break from the hectic schedule of school. And sleep away camp meant just that.

Camp Peterson was one of the elite camps in Jersey. It specialized in students who excelled in art, and helped them expand their skills greatly. This was perfect for you with your love of painting and sketching.

“Y/N?” You heard a familiar voice behind you.

“Mel?” You asked, whipping around despite the bags you were holding. There was your purple haired, nose pierces, best sleep away camp friend who you had known since sixth grade. She squealed, running up to you and giving you an anxious hug.

“Ugh, I missed you!” She smiled.

“I missed you too.” You hugged back.

“Damn,” She said, looking you up and down and pulling away, “You glew up.” “I did?” You asked. Sure, you had lost a few pounds, and cut and dyed your hair (bleached it just because), but you didn’t think it was a whole glow up situation.

“Are you kidding? I could barely recognize you!” You smiled.

“Thanks.” You said. She helped your carry your bags to cabin 17, the one you had been staying in for all your years. Setting your bags down on your side of the room by your twin bed, you looked around. It hadn’t changed a bit.

Because you and she were frequent campers who came every year the dean let you two keep your cabin and decorate it, promising that after your senior year you would come back and take it all down.

“C’mon, let’s go see the boys.” Mel said, looking at you.

“But I haven’t put my stuff away-” “So, we have another like hour to do that.” You sighed, going along with her to Cabin 18, your next door neighbors. You two ran up the small wooden steps and knocked on the door. Immediately, Mikey answered.

“Y/N? Mel?” He asked, looking at you two, “It’s been so long!” He smiled, giving you each a hug.

“Hey Mikes.” Mel said, “How are you?” “A lot better now that my best friends are here.” “Hey! I though I was your best friend!” You heard Frank walk up to the door, “Oh, hey fuckers.” He smiled at you two.

“Shut up Frank.” Mel fired back, “You’re a bitch.” “Well you’re a whore.” He said, looking at you right after, “Seems like nothing has changed.” But then he looked at you, “Oh, wait, Y/N got hot.” You lightly blushed. “But you’re still so shy and innocent. We’ll fix that, don’t you worry.” The boys let you into their cabin where you each sat down on a bean bag. There room was filled with posters of bands like The Smashing Pumpkins and The Misfits, and included Mikey’s old CD player which you guys would use almost every night.

“Nothing’s changed around here, huh?” You asked.

“You ask that every year and the answer is always no.” Frank responded. You shrugged. “Wait, actually something has changed.” He looked to Mikey to continue. Both you and Mel furrowed your brows.

“Oh yeah, my brother Gerard?” You both nodded knowing Mikey had talked about him before, “He’s here this year. He sobered up and so Mom let him come.” “Oh, cool.” Mel said.

“He’s in Ray’s cabin.” Frank added.

“I thought Bob was in Ray’s cabin?” “He couldn’t come this year.” Mikey explained, “Some sort of family vacation.” “For six weeks?” “Dunno,” Mikey concluded, “That’s what he told me.”

“We should probably go check on them.” Frank added. You all nodded.

The four of you walked out of the cabin and to number 9, Ray’s and now Gerard’s. Frank knocked on the door, no answer. He knocked again, this time harder. “Just a minute!” You heard Ray yell before coming a few seconds later and greeting you all with a smile.

“If you two were fucking in there already-” Frank said and Ray rolled his eyes.

“Grow up.” He told Frank, letting you guys in. You noticed a black haired boy sitting on one of the beds, what looked to be a comic book in hand. He was focused on the pages, while you were focused on his ruffled hair and strong jawline that shaped into a U. His hair went right above his shoulder, ruffled all over the place.

“Hey, Gee.” You heard Mikey greet. So this was Gerard.

“Oh, hey.” He smiled, looking up.

“These are the people we hang out with.” Ray began, going down the line, “Frank, Melanie, or Mel, and Y/N, or Y/N/N.” You nodded and smiled as he looked over all of you. You noticed how his hazel eyes grazed over you a little longer, or maybe you were just hallucinating.

“Wait, Y/N/N.” Ray took your out of your trance.

“Hm?” You asked, looking up at him. “You got-” He couldn’t find the right word.

“Hot?” Frank finished, “Yeah, we all know.” Ray rolled his eyes.

“That wasn’t exactly the word but you look more mature.” Ray concluded.

“Thanks.” You said, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Also you’re hair, it looks awesome.”

“Thanks.” You replied to that too.

“Hi, I’m Gerard.” He reached his hand out which you shook, “But you can call me Gee.” “I’m Y/N,” You smiled, “But you can call me Y/N/N.”

He went around and introduced himself before Mel and you headed back to put your stuff away. You placed all your clothes neatly into the drawers, hanging up some of your Christmas lights around the room. Right as you were finishing up and putting your duffel bag under your bed, you heard a knock at the door before Frank came barging in and ran to your freshly made bed, crashing on it. “Really?” You asked. “I just made that.” “So?” He asked, “I’m just making it more comfy.” “Sure you are.” The other three came in too, Mikey sitting on the edge of Mel’s bed and the Ray sitting on one of the beanbags. You noticed Gerard looking at your filled bookshelf, which was a mixture of classics and comic books. Everyone began talking but you decided to go and greet him.

“Hey, Gee.” You smiled and stood next to him, he looked up at you and smiled.

“Hey, Y/N/N.” He replied.

“What’re you looking at?” You lightly laughed, knowing he was obviously looking at your books.

“The amount of books you have.” He said, “And comics too.” “I do have quite the collection.” He smiled at you.

“You have Watchmen?” He looked at your complete collection on the top shelf. You nodded.

“Yeah, I do.” You said, “You seem surprised.” “No it’s just I um, I-” “You wouldn’t think a girl would read Watchmen?” “Well um,” He said, “I mean, yeah um- that makes me sound like a sexist asshole.” “No, it’s alright.” You assured him. “I don’t know that many girls who read it either.”

“It’s my favorite series. Alan Moore is just so good.” “It is a really good series,” You smiled. “I’ve always preferred V for Vendetta, by him at least. But I have a real soft spot for Black Widow comics.” He nodded. “She’s just a badass, ya know?” “She is.” He smiled.

“Awwww, look at you two.” You heard Frank. Both of you looked back to see everyone in the room smirking and looking at you guys. “If that isn’t love then I don’t know what is.” “Oh, shut up Iero.” You snapped. You wouldn’t consider yourself in love with Gerard considering you two hadn’t spent more than five minutes together, but you had to admit he was pretty attractive. “What time is it?” You asked out loud. Ray looked at his watch.

“5:56.” He replied.

“So dinner starts in four minutes.” Mel said, “We should probably go.” The six of you headed out of your cabin and down a few trails to the cafeteria.

“What’s usually for dinner?” Gerard asked you, walking beside you.

“First night’s usually pizza. It’s halfway decent. The rest of the food is shit but we live.” He nodded.

“But Y/N’s rich parents always ship us snacks.” Frank interrupted. You tensed feeling extremely uncomfortable at the topic that was brought up. Your parents were wealthy and you were extremely lucky and grateful, but you hated being associated with your family’s wealth and everyone in the group knew that.

“C’mon Frank.” Mel stuck up for you, “Just be grateful.”

You all made your way to the crowded hall, which was filled with primarily people who you had seen before, with a few new faces here and there. You all stood in line, grabbing the paper plates you had and grabbing your choice between Coke and water, you went with water. One by one you got two slivers of pizza on your plate, and sat at your traditional table in the corner. “So, let’s go over the groups.” Mel told Gerard. “This is probably the best time to do so.” “Most people here are nice. As long as you’re nice to them they’ll be nice back. The only people you don’t want to be near are the one’s in the center table.” She pointed, “They don’t have a group name because those are stupid, but-” “They’re a group of bitches.” Frank interrupted and Mel shot him a look, “Tell me I’m wrong.” She rolled her eyes.

“They’re just privileged white kids who are absolute pricks.” She sighed, “Just try to stay away from them. If you stay near us there’s a good chance we can help you if they decide to pick on you.”

“But they probably won’t,” Mikey began, “Because last year Y/N exposed their ring leader, Lacey, of getting a boob job in front of the entire camp.” Everyone snickered as I smirked.

“That was worth getting a three day detention.”

“Hell yeah it was.” Frank added on.

“Hello everyone!” You heard Jasper, the camp director shouted. You all sighed.

“Who’s that?” Gerard whispered.

“The director, Jasper. He’s gonna do his stupid yearly speech.” He nodded. You all sat back ready to endure his ongoing words about how great camp was, and all the fun, and responsibilities. Basically the bullshit.

“Basic rules,” He finished up, “No fighting. No drugs or alcohol,” Jasper looked at Frank, “That includes any tobacco products. And no bullying.” He finished up. “Now have fun!” Everyone clapped. The six of you got up, throwing out your plates and heading back to your cabins.

“The spot?” Mikey asked and you all nodded. You and Mel went in, Mel grabbing her backpack.

“Rose all day baby.” She smiled, slipping a few bottles and cups in. You rolled your eyes, “Oh c’mon, ease up a bit.” “I’m just not big on alcohol.” You said. You two got up and walked through the various patches of forest and trails, a flashlight in hand before you reached the spot, a little hangout area you found under an old bridge on the camp ground. You saw the four boys were already there.

“And here comes the ladies.” Frank sighed, lighting a cigarette, “Late as always.” You flipped him off. You took a seat on one of the wood benches next to Gerard, after climbing over a few rocks in the water to get to the area.

“Who wants a drink?” Mel asked. Everyone said yes, besides you and Gerard.

“Buzzkills.” Frank said.

“Hey.” You snapped, “Some people choose not to break rules. It’s a personal choice.” You looked at Gerard who nodded. Everyone began talking about some topic which you didn’t get invested in. You looked at Gerard who you could tell was not into it either. “Here,” You told him, grabbing his hand. He looked up at you. “Follow me.” He got up as you led him hand in hand to the other side of the bridge where you took your shoes off putting them in the water. Gerard followed. “It’s really beautiful here.” You said, looking up at the clear night sky.

“Yeah it is.” He agreed.

“So, why did you decide to come here?” You asked him.

“Well, Mikey would talk about it all the time. He just loves it here. I wanted to go for so long.” He explained, “But I was an alcoholic. So my parents eventually got me sober.” He finished.

“I don’t think your parents did.” You said, “You got yourself sober.” “Well, kinda.” He replied, “They just really pressured me to.” You nodded.

“Are you happier now?” You asked him, “Sorry if that was too much of a personal question.”

“No it’s alright.” He said, “Not too many people talk to me about it, they think it’s kinda weird. But yeah, I am happier now.” “That’s good, right?” He nodded.

“Yeah, it’s nice to be able to remember things.” He lightly laughed. “What about you?” He asked.

“What?” “What’s so fucked up about you?” He said, “And don’t lie and tell me nothing, because we’re all a little fucked up.”

“I don’t know.” You said, “I’m depressed. Which I guess in the grand scheme of things it isn’t the worst thing ever. Everyone in the group knows it, but I’ve been doing pretty alright for a while. Art’s helped me a lot.” “That’s good.” He said, “I’ve suffered with depression, art’s helped me too.”

“So what are you most excited for here?” You changed the subject. “I guess just meeting new people, like you.” He smiled, “So far that’s worked.” You nodded. “What’s something you always look forward to?”

“Basically hanging out.” You smiled, “We do this most nights, and when it rains we all go into Mel’s and my cabin and share stupid scary stories.” “Sounds fun.” “It is.” You said, “You’re obligated to come though, so you should see.” “I’m obligated?” He teased, “And how am I obligated.” “Well you’re apart of the group now,” You began, “And where else do you think you would fit in here?” “Ouch, that kinda hurt.” You both lightly laughed. “But you make a fair point.” “Oh I know I do.” You playfully nudged him.

“C’mon you two, we need to head back before it gets too dark.” Ray turned a corner of one of the pillars. You both got up walking over to where everyone else was.

The crew and you two walked back, you and Gerard trailing behind a bit to start up some small conversation. “What’s your first class tomorrow?” You asked.

“Sketching, I think. 10 am.” “Same.” You smiled. “What’s after that?” “I think I have writing and then cartooning.” “Oh cool,” You said, “I have photography and then painting.”

“That’s cool.” He replied. You two had made your way back to main camp, you and Melanie said bye to everyone and went back to your room.

“So, you and Gerard seem pretty cozy.” Mel smiled, as you crashed on your bed. You rolled your eyes.

“Oh fuck off.” “So you like him?” She smirked.

“I’m fond of him.” You corrected, “But he is attractive.”

“So are you gonna go after him?” “Probably not,” You sighed, “I mean he’s what, going into his senior year? He’s a year older and I’m sure he has a girlfriend.” “Have you asked him?” “No.” You replied honestly.

“Then ask him.” “That would make it so obvious.” “Then ask Mikey.” “Maybe.” You said, “But then Mikey would know.” “I think all of us already know.”

“Plus he’s way out of my league.” “Did you forget that you got hot?” She asked you, “Like really hot?” You huffed.

“I just don’t see it working.” “You haven’t even known him for 24 hours, and now you don’t think a relationship with him would work?” She asked, “You have six weeks to make something work with him and start a summer romance. Might as well do it early on.” “Shut up.” You sighed, “I’m going to bed.”

#gerard way x reader #gerard way #mcr gerard #my chemical gee #my chemical gerard #mcr #mcr fanfiction #mcr x reader #my chem #my chemical romance #my chemical romance x reader

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hsmtmts-fangir1 · 4 years

Text

Just For A Moment part 7 (Ricky Bowen x Reader)

Masterlist

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / PART 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 /

“You ready?” Y/N asked as she walked into Joe’s room and saw that he was struggling to tie his shoes. “You need help bubba?” Y/N asked as she bent down to do it for him. She made sure that she did it slowly so he could see how. “Thank you, mommy,” Joe said when she was done. “Let’s go.” Y/N smiled picking Joe and left the house.

They arrived at East High when she saw Gina walking in. “GINA” Y/N yelled walking up to her. “Oh hey Y/N and Joe” Gina smile when they catch up. “I see that you straighten your hair for the picture.” Y/N smile looking at Gina’s hair. “I know, I thought that it would be nice, you know” Gina replied. “Well, it looks amazing” Y/N comment. “You look very pretty,” Joe said shyly. “Aww thank you.” Gina smiled at Joe.

They walked into the dressing rooms. “You should get dressed. I’m going to see if Carlos or anyone needs my help.” Y/N said walking into the auditorium. She saw Big Red and Carlos setting everything up. “What’s up,” Y/N said as she put Joe down. “Y/N I see that you brought your little wildcat” Carlos smiled as Joe ran to Big Red. “I just thought he would enjoy this. Seeing everyone in costume.” Y/N smiled as she saw Nini and Kourtney talking with Joe. “Okay, people, let’s do this!” Ricky yelled as he walked in. Everyone just started to laugh at him. Even Joe looked a bit scared at Ricky’s wig. “Joe do you think I look good,” Ricky asked as he bent down as Joe jumped into his arms. “You look scary but it’s okay” Joe replied as he pokes at Ricky wig, while everyone laughs at Joe’s words. Ricky picks him and puts him on his hip. “Hey if Joe says that it’s okay then it’s okay” Ricky tickles Joe’s sides making Joe laugh and hides his face into Ricky’s neck.

“Let’s get some air, Wildcats” Gina spoke, posing in front of the camera in which Red took a picture. “Good morning, Gina.” Ricky walked up to Gina while still having Joe in his arms. Gina turned to him and started to laugh. “Pretty good, right?” Ricky replied. “Troy, you look the best” Gina replied, “Thank you. I try” answer while flipping his hair. Y/N walked up to them. “I should take Joe,” Y/N said, while Ricky handed Joe to her. Gina smiled at them. Even when Ricky was giving Joe back to Y/N. They looked like a family.

At the dance, Ricky apologized. Then Ricky gave her a ride to her house. In the car, they talked about Y/N. Ricky confessed about his feelings towards Y/N ever since he caught Y/N and Ashlyn singing, along with how he thinks Joe could be his. He even told her the timeline. Gina was convinced but had told Ricky, not to get his hopes up just in case Joe wasn’t his. But right now, she could see it.

“Okay, guys. We’re gonna get one in for practice, okay” Red spoke, Y/N gave Gina a wink and walk to stand next to Carlos. “We’re all gonna jump on the of three,” Red instructed. Everyone gets themself in line. “Ready? “ Red said. The first shot wasn’t good since Kourtney was still fixing EJ’s pants. Then come on the second shot, everyone was confused and Seb broke a heel. Making Carlos call for a five.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The next day, they were in the cafeteria. They found out about Miss. Jenn, that night they met at Big Red’s house and made a plan. So now they are waiting for the signal. Until Ricky’s dad spoke, “Excuse me.” He stood up. Ricky looked up in shock. “I’m sorry, We’re not opening up the floor to parents on this” Principal Gutierrez replied. “Let him speak,” One of Nini’s mom spoke. “Go ahead, Mister Bowen” he sighed. “I’m a little late to this party, but I gotta say the real crime here would be booting a teacher who’s making a positive impact. I’ve never seen my kid this invested in anything, and I don’t think that’s something we should punish your… Honor” Ricky’s dad said. Y/N nudged Ricky’s shoulder, making him look at her. “Your dad is amazing, just like you” Y/N whisper, making Ricky smile at her. “Mister Bowen, I appreciate your statement, but I think we can all agree that theater isn’t unique in this regard. It doesn’t have some special fairy dust that can’t be filled by another extracurricular. ” Principal Gutierrez replied. That’s when Kourtney started.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Y/N was with her Eugene and Joe outside, celebrating the victory of getting Miss. Jenn to stay. Ricky was walking outside with Gina, when he stopped when he saw Y/N with Joe. Gina looked over at what he was seeing. “You know, you won’t know until you asked,” Gina spoke. ”What if he isn’t mine and I’m just getting attached to him for nothing.”Ricky questioned. “What if he is yours” Gina questioned. “I don’t know Gina, I’m kinda scared of the answer. I mean, if he is mine, I lost three years with him and what if Y/N doesn’t want me to be in Joe’s life that why she didn’t tell me. Or what if he isn’t, I just got attached to him and I got my hopes up just for him to crash now. I like Y/N more than a friend's way, what if me asking pushing her away. I mean last night after we left Red’s house. I had a dream where all three of us are a family. We had a house together and even a dog. What if all of that is just inside my head?What if we’re just like my parents build to fall. ” Ricky ranted with tears in his eyes as he spoke. ”Look I can see Y/N has feelings for you. I mean you can’t fake that. Your parents are another story. It doesn’t have to be your story. “ Gina spoke, making Ricky wipe his tears away. “Go and find out” Gina pushed towards Y/N.

Ricky walked up to Y/N and Joe as her brother walked away. “RICKY” Joe yelled excited as he saw Ricky walking up over Y/N’s shoulder. Y/N turn and saw Ricky. “Hey” Y/N put Joe down for him to run up Ricky. Joe quickly ran to Ricky and threw himself in Ricky’s open arms. Ricky picked him up. “Did you enjoy the small show?” Ricky asked, Joe quickly nodded his head. “He loved it.” Y/N replied smiling. “Well, I’m glad” Ricky smiled as he stared into Joe’s brown eyes. “So…” Y/N started but Eugene came up again. “Y/N, do you want me to take Joe home for his nap before dinner,” Eugene asked as he met Ricky’s eye. “Hey, Eugene, Y/N older brother” Eugene raised his hand for Ricky to shake which Ricky did. “Ricky Bowen”. “Sure take him.” Y/N answer looking at Eugene. Ricky gave Joe to Eugene. “Bye bubba. I love you and I will see you at home okay” Y/N kissed Joe’s forehead. “Okay,” Joe whispered. “Bye Ricky” Joe called out waving at him. “Bye, little man” Ricky waved back.

“Can we talk?” Ricky asked looking at Y/N. “Sure,” Y/N answered, sitting down on a bench. Ricky follows her. “Look I know that this might be a bit bold of me to ask but where is Joe’s father?” Ricky asked nervously. “Why do you want to know?” Y/N question crossing her arms. “Because I remember that New Year’s party, where you and I had sex,” Ricky replied making Y/N stand up. Ricky stood up. “Look, Ricky-” Y/N started but Ricky was quick to speak up.

“I did the math, It leads to that party. Please Y/N I need the truth because I’m slowly falling for Joe and you. That party was the first night where Nini wasn’t in my mind and you were. After that night I convinced myself that it wasn’t real. That I made you in my mind. But when I caught you and Ashlyn singing, you been in my mind, non-stop. Whenever I see you and Joe, I go crazy at just the thought of Joe being my son and you being my girlfriend. And us being together and just being a family. I swear that Nini or anyone doesn’t compare to you. I have been going crazy not knowing. If he is, I swear that I’m not mad. I just want to know why you didn’t tell me. Was it that I left before you wake up? Were you scared to tell me? Was it that I had something for Nini? Was it me? Did you not want me in Joe’s life? “ Ricky ranted breathing hard. Y/N just let the tears fall.

“We didn’t know each other. We just hooked up, I was scared for a lot of reasons. Everyone knew you and Nini had feelings for each other. I didn’t want to ruin that. I had a crush on you since the fifth grade but you didn’t notice me. So I just thought that you forgot or chose to forget that night. I continued with my life.” Y/N spoke meeting Ricky’s eyes.

“Wait Joe is mine?” Ricky asked getting closer to Y/N. “Yes,” Y/N whispers nodding. Ricky just smiled and hugged her. Y/N was shocked at Ricky’s action. “You’re not mad?” Y/N asked, pulling away from the hug. “No, I can’t because I can see where you come from,” Ricky answered. “I’m sorry that I kept him from you.” Y/N apologize. Ricky shook his head. “Don’t say sorry. I get it but it's just, I really want to be part of his life. I want him to know that I’m his dad.” Ricky replied shyly. “We can tell him when you want to. Just tell me when and we can do it or if you want to do it alone. It’s fine.” Y/N answer. Ricky smiles and nods. “I want to do it together. Maybe I can take you guys out and we can do it” Ricky suggests shyly. “Whatever you want. But can we hold off telling anyone from drama please?” Y/N asked which Ricky nodded. “Of course” Ricky replied.

#ricky bowen #ricky #ricky bowen x reader #ricky bowen imagines #bowen #high #high school musical the musical the series #high school musical #high school musical: the musical ; the series #HSMTMTS

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bodyswapmischief · 5 years

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My Dad’s Dad Bod

My parents had me when they both were still teenagers. My father didn't stick around. So, my mother had to work hard, for the both of us. And, she raised me to do the same. The phrase "never become your father stuck in my head." And, for the most part, I didn't. In high school, I got good grades, was in sports, and extracurricular activities. I distanced myself from any bad influence. Until, I went to college.

At college, I didn't have my mom to nag me and remind me of my father. I just wanted to have fun. And being sociable, I got to know where all the parties were at. My first year there was filled with beer and sex. My grades started sliding, as my only focuses were having fun and maintaining my fit body. And, it felt good. It was like my genetics were made for this kind of life. But, then dumb luck hit and I was at the wrong place at the wrong time. I was caught underage drinking and was kicked out of school. My mom was called, to handle the situation.

I waited at the campus police station, until my mom came to pick me up. I could imagine her anger, as she yelled at me. But, when the time came, she didn't. In her place was my step dad. He told me that my mom was furious. She said "If I wanted to act like my father, I could go live with him." I was devastated, knowing she had given up on me.

The rest of the ride, my stepdad tried to lecture. "You were such a good kid ... what were you thinking." I couldn't give him an answer. I knew he was right. I messed up my whole life ... everything I worked for. I got a taste of what I promised to never become. And, the scary part is that ... I actually ... I liked it.

We finally reached my dad's apartment and my stepfather wished me luck. He said he would try and calm my mom down. Maybe, I would be able to come back home.

I got off the car and could tell I was in a bad neighborhood. The apartment complex looked rundown. The halls smelt like piss and shit. In the distance, I could hear a couple fighting. I got to my dad's door and knocked. He opened it. His face still looked young, but extremely tired. His shirtless body looked worn out and gave away the fact he was in his 40s, if not older. His chest sagged with fat. His belly stuck out and any strength from his youth was gone. You could tell by the sad way he carried himself, he lived a hard life.

My father was never really in my life. He never came to see me. However, there were only a few times my mom was desperate enough to leave me with him. From those visits I got to know him. He was a player. He loved girls, partying, and drugs. At least, he was in his 20s. By the age of 30 he had 4 childern from 4 different women. He owed hundreds of dollars in child support each month. The stress he created caught up with him. Now he was just a sad single middle age man who worked all the time and struggled to get by.

"There is my little man," he smiled. I just looked at him. "We'll you did a number on your life .... welcome to club." He laughed. "So, you'll be here in the living room. You can put your stuff in some of the bins here." He continued. I looked around. The inside was just as dirty as the outside. The small one bedroom apartment mirrored how I felt, like complete trash. "Well, I'm gonna be leaving in a while for my shift at the gas station and then afterwards I got the graveyard shift at McDonalds. So you can get yourself settled in. And, don't plan anything tomorrow ... we gotta do some bonding." He smiled.

As soon as he showed me around, he left. I was left alone to contemplate what I've done. Having nothing to do, I went on my phone. I had a couple of friends in the area and it just so happened they were throwing a party.

After my night of drinking and sex, I came back home at 6 AM. It just happened that my dad was coming home to. I was buzzed and expected him to be mad. He looked tired from nonstop working. He just laughed "wow ... look at you. Living life for the both of us. Reminds me of me when I was your age. Learn from my mistakes though and wear a condom." In my drunk haze I laughed back "Oh don't worry, I did."

The next day, my dad wake me. "Get up were going to the beach." He said. My head still sore from last night. On the way there, we stopped to get something to eat. I ordered a burger, fries, and a shake. My dad looked at me and ordered the same. "Can't have my son show me up." He nudges me. We eat as he drives, giving us time to get caught up. A few bites in my dad puts his burger down. "Here son you can have mine. The burger is not agreeing with my old stomach." He laughs a little trying to hide his pain. Feeling still hungry, I finished his food.

When we get to the beach, I feel really bloated and fat. I helped my dad take the cooler onto the sand and feltl extremely exhausted. My body started feeling itchy. I took off my shirt, preparing to get into the water to cool off. I can hear my dad laughing "Hey there old man." I look down and see my dads body where mine used to be. My arms, legs, pecs and abs were replaced by the flabby body of my middle age dad. I quickly grabbed my phone and looked. My face was still the same.

It created this weird contrast of a young face on an older body. I look at my now shirtless dad and saw my body. The abs and muscles I worked so hard for. Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my knees, which cause my already weak body to sit down on one of the folding chairs. "Okay very funny ... I don't know what's going on ... but, give me my body back." I laughed trying to hide the fact that I was freaking out.

My father's demeanor changed as he squatted down next to me. "Damn squatting is easy with these young knees." His voice becomes quieter, as not to catch attention "Look you little shit. This is your punishment. I agree with your mom. You fucked up your life. Did you not learn anything from mine. My stomach is shot out. I've become lactose intolerant. I have irritable bowel syndrome, erectile dysfunction, and my body hurts all the time. Now you can expirence that and see what your future holds."

"No you gotta give it back. I can't be like this. We almost look the same age now. Are we stuck like this? What if I die like this? Oh ... shit ... I think I'm having a heart attack." I start panicking, as a burning sensation fills my chest.

My dad laughed, "Your not having a heart attack. It's heart burn from the greasy ass food you ate .. And, if you wanna get this body back then here's what your gonna do. Your gonna get your fat ass to the community college and register for classes. Keep your grades up for a year and you'll get your body back. Fuck up and, not only won't you get your body back, I will swap our ages." His eyes flash blue. I freaked out. He is not the man I knew or... thought I knew.

"What are you!" I cried. He looked at me and laughed. "I'm your father and a body swap magician." Nothing was making sense, in my racing mind. "Then why did you stay in the body if a sad middle age man." I asked trying to calm down from dealing with my achy body and heart burn. "Well ... when you lived as long as I have sometimes you just want to expirence a sad boring life." He answered. "And, why would you give my body back," I asked "Well you are my actual son. I was in this body when you were conceived. I don't want to harm my own blood and I want the best for you. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I just got to wrapped up in this life, and seeing how much I could fuck it up. But, you have to live your first few lives right, or else you'll be corrupted by your powers." He explained. "You mean I have your abilities." I was amazed. "You should ... they don't start kicking in untill your first body starts becoming old. As my son I expect a lot from you. You wouldn't imagine how many corrupt kids of my mine I had to end."

He gets ups and stretches "Damn it feels good being young. Now excuse me while I enjoy the attention this body is going to get." He walks to the cooler and grabs a beer. "Oh and stay away from these. That belly can't handle beer anymore. Now you can sit there or if that old body is up to it go for a swim, but don't wear yourself out old man." He laughs as he walks away.

Fuck him, I think to myself. I push pass my bodies pain and go to the cooler. I open up a beer and down it. I feel my stomach start to rumble. Oh shit, I say as I rush to the restrooms praying I don't go in my pants. Maybe, I should start listening to him.

(In the process of finding sources and blogs the pictures from all my stories came from. So follow me @malereblogmischief)

#male #body #swap #mischief #transformation #stories #muscle #theft #weight gain

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cami-chats · 4 years

Text

Gotta be damned because I want it all

Fandom: Check Please

Pairing: Kent Parson/Connor “Whiskey” Whisk

Warnings: In later chapters, some homophobia and involuntary outing, falling out with family

Chapter 1 (Haven’t come out of my cage and I’ve been doing just fine) of 5 Read below or on AO3

Whiskey knew about pressure and expectations. When he got to the Aces, everyone acted like he was just starting to feel it.

When he told his parents he wanted to play pro hockey, they'd... tried. They'd tried to be supportive. There had been a month long period between him telling them and them agreeing to it, when they tried to change his mind. 'We live so far west, Connor. Any chance you have will be if you claw your way up, fighting tooth and nail for every inch. You'll have to prove that you're twice as good as they're expecting.' He knew it was because they wanted him to be sure. It wasn't going to be easy, like taking P.E. or joining the baseball team at school. He was going to have to travel, practice every free moment; he was going to be tired year round.

'Hockey is expensive. If you change your mind, we won't be able to pay for a different extracurricular for you,' Mom said, and she was so worried about the possibility of him changing his mind that she didn't stop to think about how Connor knew what he wanted-- he wasn't exactly what someone would call fickle. His parents made sure, right from the start, that he knew the kind of commitment he was getting into, and he dove into it headfirst. He couldn't explain the exhilaration that came from being on ice, from racing around on his skates and keeping an eye on the puck and other players.

To be fair, it didn't start to feel like pressure until he was sixteen and everyone was talking about him. Who was his high school sweetheart? How good were his chances in the draft? Would he crack under the pressure like Jack Zimmermann had? (Zimmermann, who everyone constantly compared him to. Apparently the way they moved on the ice was similar; their focus on the ice was similar, and Connor didn't give two shits.) Was he at a disadvantage living where he was instead of in Canada or along the east coast? He'd talked to reporters before and watched what was said about him to see how it was coming along, but now it felt like it was everywhere. Reporters fucking everywhere, picking him apart. He was struggling to keep his grades up as it was without worrying about the latest article that said they didn't think he was going to make it to the next draft. His parents told him how proud they were of him, his friends said they expected for him to be the best, and more than all of that was the burning need inside to prove himself.

He'd started pushing himself when he was twelve and telling his parents that he wanted to play hockey for the rest of his life, and he was still pushing himself when he made it first in the draft and got to be with the Aces. Las Vegas Aces. It was like the name was hovering in bold at the forefront of his mind, occasionally giving itself a shake when it thought he hadn't freaked out about it recently enough.

Las Vegas Aces, Captain Kent Parson.

This... was a dream come true. Nothing less. Kent Parson had won a Cup his rookie year. Kent Parson was his Captain, and Whiskey had always loved watching the way he moved on his skates-- like he'd been born to it.

Scraps was housing him for this first year, and apparently him and Kent were tight. So Kent Parson, living legend, was there when Whiskey was moving in. Not that he had much to move in. His parents had been reluctant to admit that this was a permanent move (hopefully he wouldn't get traded, the Aces were exactly where he wanted to be), so he didn't bring much with him. But he didn't want to bring much anyways. He didn't need school shit; he didn't want to poke holes in Scraps's wall with posters, and he didn't have any books or movies that he couldn't bear to part with. He brought clothes. Music. One framed picture of him and Jenny because she'd given it to him as a going away present, and she was his best friend.

All of this was to say that his first conversation with Kent was about pressure. That wasn't what he'd been hoping for, but maybe it was better than a nondescript 'welcome to the team, don't party too hard' speech. Kent was leaning against the doorway to his room, watching nonjudgmentally as he unpacked. There was a backwards snapback atop golden curls, and Whiskey had plenty of practice in not staring. "How do you like Vegas?" he asked as an opener.

Whiskey shrugged. The climate was familiar, but he didn't care to explore the city. He was here for hockey, not to get wasted and gamble his signing bonus away (he'd paid for Jenny's meal plan at college, because they had both been planning to go to Samwell if the draft didn't work out).

"Look kid-"

"I'm not a kid." He knew that he was compared to everyone else, but he didn't want for them to think of him that way. He was younger, yes, but not a kid.

"Sure," Kent said with an easy going smirk that, while appearing sincere, Whiskey thought was appeasing. "What I mean is, there's a lot of eyes on you for getting first in the draft and picking a team out here." 'Out here'. So far west. Whiskey didn't get why everyone had such a stick up their ass about it.

All he said about it was, "You did it."

"Yeah, and it felt like everyone was waiting for me to fail. You're gonna get a lot of questions about how you're dealing with the pressure dude, and I want you to know that it's not big deal. We're not dropping you if we don't win a Stanley Cup this year."

"You won the Cup your first year," Whiskey said.

The smirk was back. "See? Shit like that is why I don't want you to worry. It's no big deal, man. If we get it this year, awesome. If not, whatever, there's always next year. Especially for you, there's always next year."

It was obvious that Kent was waiting for a response, so Whiskey nodded. He didn't agree, but he nodded.

"Now that that shit's outta the way, I'm looking forward to having you on the team. Like the way you shred the ice, man." He pushed himself off from the door frame. "See you at practice."

Whiskey nodded, and Kent left. He didn't realize that he'd been holding his breath until he was alone again. Kent could say all day long that it would be fine if he fucked up, but Whiskey knew the truth of the matter: you get one shot. Maybe not one shot at the Cup, but one shot at the big leagues to prove yourself.

Whiskey didn't know how rookie years were supposed to go, but he was pretty sure you didn't get bumped up to first line after a week and a half of practice. He was pretty sure the coaches didn't tell the captain that they should take an extra hour after practice for the next few days, just the two of them. He was more than sure that the captain of the team didn't usually have the extra time to spend an hour with every rookie. The coaches said it was going to be a few days, but Whiskey knew that that was a first estimate, not a solid timeline. They wanted to see how well this practices went-- wanted to see if the way they clicked would turn into them being a pair. If it didn't work out, Whiskey might stay on first line, but the extra practices would stop. If they started to do well, they'd probably be encouraged-- that's the way they always phrased it; 'you're encouraged to take these extra practices and push yourself harder but you don't have to'-- to spend as much time on the ice as they needed until they had a sixth sense for where the other one was on the ice. They'd get the second option, that much was obvious from how they started performing during practice.

He didn't need anyone to say the words to his face for him to know that they were thinking about Zimmermann when they saw him and Parse skating together. Parse and Zimms, that's the dynamic everyone wanted. And they always said it together, like it was one word. Whiskey didn't give a shit because he was here and Zimmermann was at college. It would be another two years before he signed on with anyone, and by that point, Whiskey wouldn't be dispensable; he'd make sure of it.

And all the while, Parse was telling him not to stress. Focus, but don't worry. Take it one practice at a time, don't worry about playoffs because they didn't even know if they'd be in them yet. (The Aces had gotten to the playoffs every years since Parse signed on, but sure, this year-- the year that Parse and Whiskey were tearing up the ice together-- was going to be the year that they didn't make it.)

They were in the middle of one of those hour-after practices when Whiskey got a phone call. He'd dragged his bag out of the locker room after official practice, so he skated over, peeled off a glove, and fished his phone out. Jenny. He couldn't just ignore a call from her. "One second," he told Parse, who nodded, seemingly unbothered by the interruption. He slid it to answer and held it up to his ear. "What's up?"

"Uh, we had plans to watch Resident Evil, remember? You weren't online. And really? Ignoring my texts is a dick move, Whisk." On anyone else, those words would've sounded frustrated, but Jenny was just teasing.

"I forgot."

"Dude, it was your pick for movie night." He never forgot movie night. If he needed to cancel, he always told her as soon as he knew he wouldn't make it. "You okay?"

"I'm at practice."

"I thought practice ended at four for you. Did I mess up time zones? I googled it, I can't believe I messed it up. Shit dude, hang up before your team gets mad at you!"

"You're fine, it's an extra practice, just me and Parse."

"Parse. Parson? Like Kent Parson??" she asked, voice climbing higher. Everything that came out after that sounded like it had been said with a single breath. "Dude! Connor! Oh my god!!! Woah woah, wait this isn't, like, a remedial thing, is it? I know you like to be all stoic, but if you're having a breakdown and it's fucking up your playing, it's okay to tell me. I won't tell your parents, and I can try to skype you more often if you think it'll help. Or- god, I should let you get back to practice and you can tell me about it later if you want to." Jenny was the best. Nervous at times, but the best.

"I'm fine. Sorry I forgot. I should be home in an hour, I'll text you."

"Okay. Love you! Kick ass out there, Whiskey."

"Love you." He hung up and tossed his phone back on top of the bag. "Sorry," he said, skating back towards Parse-- who was doing slow circles near the middle of the rink to give Whiskey some privacy.

"It's fine. Who was it?"

"Girlfriend," he said, because that was the story they were going with.

People normally pushed. Not a lot, but they always wanted to know her name or ask how long they'd been together and what she thought about hockey. At the very least, they said some sort of joke to let Whiskey know they were cool with it-- or something like that. But Parse just nodded and said, "Ready for more dumbass drills that we don't need?"

Jenny sent him a well wishes text before his game. So did both of his parents. So did each of his four siblings. So did all of his friends from high school. Whiskey didn't bother reading all of them. He barely even read Jenny's.

Parse was a good captain when he wasn't trying to convince Whiskey not to worry. The pre-game talk boiled down to: we're awesome and they suck so let's kick ass.

Whiskey knew what kind of attention was on him as he skated onto the ice: is he going to live up to the hype? did he deserve this? He was going to make them regret even thinking those questions. As Jenny liked to say, he was worth all this and more, and it was about time the rest of the world saw that too.

One goal and one assist when they won the game 2-1. Not bad. He could've done better, but apparently that wasn't a universal opinion based on all the knocks to the helmet and pats on the back the team gave him.

He checked his phone by rote at the end of the press and showers, but it was more of the same. All the people that sent him well wishes for a good game sent him congratulations. Jenny's text in particular was exuberant, lots of keysmashing, exclamation points, and all caps messages.

Most of the guys congratulated him on the goal before they left for the night, but fucking Parse had to make it awkward. "Nice game."

Whiskey nodded, digging his thumb into the arch of his left foot so it wouldn't cramp up on him in the middle of the night. It was always the left foot, and it was always directly after a game and never practice; he didn't know why, but it was annoying. When Parse didn't immediately keep moving, Whiskey said, "That was a sweet shot you made."

Kent snorted. "Thanks. Looks like it was a damn good decision to put us on a line together."

"Yeah."

It was silent for a minute as they went about getting dressed. Their stalls were right next to each other, which meant that Whiskey caught glimpses of tan, muscled skin even though he wasn't looking. His foot was really pissing him off right now because it still didn't feel better. "It's not a big deal if you fuck up at the next game, y'know."

Whiskey's hands stuttered over his shoelace for a moment, but Parse probably didn't notice.

"I know it feels like the end of the fucking world if you don't do well, but it's not a big deal. Most rookies don't make it on the team of their choice or make a goal in the first half of the season let alone their first game. Even if you start sucking, no one here's going to care."

Whiskey got the feeling that Parse was going to keep going unless he agreed with him, so he said, "Yeah." He could feel Parse's eyes on him, and it was clear that he didn't believe Whiskey. It would've been annoying, but he dropped it instead of pushing, and it felt like Whiskey could breathe again.

He had a point streak going. No one that he only heard from over the phone noticed. After his first game, the supportive texts had tapered off. His parents still sent them, when they remembered when his games were. They tried, but they didn't follow hockey-- they followed their son. Jenny, on the other hand, knew about all of his games and watched them when she could. Between her school work and getting used to a new state though, Whiskey didn't expect for her to be on top of it. Besides, he didn't need people telling him 'good luck' like it would actually help how he played.

The other Aces knew about the point streak, and they joked that they'd be making him take vodka shots after each game that he kept it going if he were legal. Parse knew about the point streak, and he was still worried about the stress that Whiskey was supposedly going to crack under. No matter how many times he told Parse that he was fine, he didn't look convinced. He just... he would always fucking smirk and knock his knuckles against Connor's shoulder and say something like, "Whatever you say, man. Wanna grab some coffee?" And Whiskey always wanted to even though he kind of didn't like coffee, but he declined. Parse didn't mean anything by it other than they were becoming a popular duo on the ice and he was Whiskey's captain, but Whiskey didn't do one-on-one outings unless it was with Jenny.

He shouldn't have been surprised that Kent would keep offering when his streak inevitably ended. The only reason he said yes this time, was because he didn't open with sympathy. They were getting dressed after showers, and he said, "Wanna grab some coffee? We're gonna be on the red-eye flying back, and I don't think I've ever seen you sleep on the plane. Don't worry about it, dude, you'll get used to it after a year or two."

Whiskey should say no. He didn't want to. Not making a goal this game wasn't a tragedy. They still won the game, and he'd gotten two assists. He'd played his best game, and that was what mattered. "Yeah." He'd figure out what to get once they actually got there.

It was pretty damn obvious Parse was surprised by him agreeing, but he didn't let it show other than an extra smug smirk on his face as they left. Parse kept up a bit of chatter as they took a cab to the coffeehouse he recommended, but it was about the game they'd just finished, so Whiskey didn't have to pay too much attention. Mostly he looked out the window and didn't shift to accommodate the restlessness his body kept insisting on feeling.

Whiskey felt like a kid trailing after Parse as they got out of the cab and walked into the coffee shop. He looked at the menu and felt his stomach curl at the idea of drinking anything with espresso in it. There were blended drinks, and those were basically milkshakes, right? Not that he'd had a lot of milkshakes that he could remember since he'd been trying so hard to stay in shape for hockey, but he had vaguely good memories of them. And then he remembered that it wasn't allowed in the current diet plan.

Parse ordered, then looked over at him expectantly.

"What?"

"C'mon and order."

"I can pay for myself."

Parse raised an eyebrow-- with that fucking smirk on his face-- and nodded towards the register.

Whiskey could either deny it again and get embarrassed when Parse insisted, or he could give in. He grit his teeth, then muttered, "Small lemonade, please," to the cashier. He knew that Parse thought he was overreacting. It was a lemonade. It cost, at most, three dollars. Even before Whiskey had gotten his signing bonus, he would've been able to pay for someone else's drink at that price, and Parse had been in the NHL for years now. It wasn't a big deal. He couldn't unclench his jaw.

Parse didn't make it A Thing, and Whiskey let himself be grateful that he didn't always push. Parse commented on the song playing over the speakers as they waited for their drinks. Something inane about coffee shops playing indie songs instead of pop. "Want to walk back to the hotel?"

"Sure."

Parse didn't say anything for a while, and Whiskey hoped that he knew where their hotel was, because he had no idea. You'd think that cities would be the same no matter which side of the country you're from, but apparently not. He might as well have been walking around in Britain for how little he knew what was going on. When he did start talking, Whiskey wished he would've kept his damn mouth shut. "I know this isn't something you want to hear, but you remind me of Jack."

Whiskey was about to take his chances finding the way back to the hotel by himself, but Kent continued before he could turn the other direction and leave.

"Not the way you play, but you have this look like you're one bad game away from freaking the fuck out. He nearly died when it got to be too much for him, and I don't want that to happen to you."

This was not a conversation he ever wanted to have. Pressure wasn't new. He'd lost games before, and he'd been fine. He figured out what he needed to work on, and then he practiced until it wasn't a problem anymore. The stakes were higher now that he was playing pro, but he knew how to deal with it. Some of the guys out there had been playing almost as long as he'd been alive, and he was supposed to be able to match that. If he let himself get too comfortable, he wouldn't be game-ready. He wasn't pushing himself more than he could take and all he wanted was for everyone to shut the fuck up about it. "I'm not suicidal," he said, having to shove the words past his teeth. His jaw felt like it had been welded shut, and he couldn't figure out how to unstick it.

"Zimms wasn't either. He OD'd on his fucking anxiety meds that he got from the doctor his parents sent him to. It was all legit and that didn't do him any fucking good. He was so out of it that he couldn't think through taking twenty of them wouldn't make him twenty times less anxious. You're doing great out there. You don't need to win every single game to be worth something." It made him feel a little better to see that Kent didn't want to be having this conversation either. It also helped to know that this wasn't about Whiskey. It was about Parse feeling guilty for not helping his friend earlier. One little glimmer from Whiskey made him think of Zimms, and now he was wigging out over it.

"I don't have anxiety."

Parse snorted. "Yeah okay."

It would sound defensive if he repeated it, so he took a sip of the lemonade. He didn't know if it was supposed to taste this sugary or if it was a bad choice by that shop.

"Look, you don't want to talk about it, and I'm tired of feeling like I'm looking over your shoulder all the damn time."

"Is there a trick to telling you how to drop it?" Whiskey asked, mostly not joking, but if Parse got upset, he was going to pretend that it was.

"Just promise me that if it ever gets bad, you'll ask for help. Me, one of the guys, a friend, your parents, I don't care. Just- someone."

Whiskey could've insisted that he wasn't in a position of needing help-- not now or anytime soon-- but that would've taken longer and Parse would've kept worrying about him to the point that he wanted to avoid him. Avoiding Parse wasn't anything he ever wanted to try and do, so he said, "Fine." Then, when that sounded insincere, he added, "I will."

Parse nodded, then took a drink of his coffee. "Now that that bullshit's out of the way, do you think that Harvey can keep up with..." he continued on, and they fell back on the safe topic: the other team's stats. They weren't on the home stretch for a playoff's spot yet, but Whiskey had to think ahead to make sure the timeline was solid in his head.

They made it to the playoffs, but all Whiskey could think about was the fucking stupid mistake he'd made in the last game. He hadn't missed a good pass that completely since he was fourteen fucking years old. And he'd missed it from Parse of all people.

The media scrum after that felt like so many layers of bullshit, but he kept on his media smile and answered all of the questions like he was supposed to.

Parse didn't ask him how he was afterwards, and Whiskey almost wished that he drank alcohol because that would make getting to sleep easier. Parse clapped him on the back like he did every time they parted ways, and that was that.

He'd fucked up at a game-- over something so goddamn simple he felt like clawing his hair out-- and other than two questions from the media, there hadn't been a reaction. The coaches might ask if he and Parse needed more one-on-one time, but that was going to be the extent of it.

Jenny didn't even mention it when she said that he had a great game. He didn't know if that's because she hadn't noticed or if it was a conscious decision on her part not to bring it up. Either way, he was happy not to talk about it.

For all that Whiskey and Parse had talked about playoffs and the Cup, he was still shocked when they made it to the final round. Aces versus Penguins. It felt like his mind was a static screen on an old television. Crackling loud enough to be annoying but nonsensical enough that it could be tuned out if you tried. There was the occasional jump like a mental exclamation point just to keep things interesting.

This didn't happen. Rookies didn't win the Cup their first year when they were playing on first line unless they were Kent goddamn Parson. Whiskey knew himself; he was no Kent Parson. He felt like he couldn't breathe. Jesus christ this was a bad time to have that mental break Kent had been worried about. It was the first game, he needed to be in the right head space to bring his A game because anything else wouldn't cut it, not at this point in the finals.

As fate would have it, Kent was the one to get him out of his head. He kicked Whiskey's leg as they were getting suited up, more of a nudge than anything else.

Whiskey looked over at him. Any hope he had that nobody noticed how much he was freaking out was dashed when he saw the expression on Kent's face. Always smiling, the bastard, but it was less teasing than usual. "If we lose, we lose."

Whiskey snorted. "You don't tell anyone else on the team that."

"Nobody else on the team needs to hear it. Getting this far your rookie year? That's some gold star level shit. You've got the rest of your career made, whether we lose or not. We've got at least four games before it's all down the gutter anyways. Have you ever had four piss poor games in a row?"

"There's a first time for everything," Whiskey muttered.

"Win or lose, you and me are going to celebrate. You'll finally get a proper introduction to the queen of my life, Kit Purrson."

"Did you name her that yourself?"

"I am my own biggest fan," he said with a wink.

"Not true," Whiskey said, shaking head. The words slipped out before he could stop them, but Kent wouldn't think anything of it, right? He was one of the most popular players in the entire league, plenty of people admired him.

"Does that mean that if we win, you'll be my biggest fan?" Kent said, and there was a lilt there, almost flirtatious. But no, that was just in Whiskey's head.

"If we win, I'll be your new best friend."

"That makes it sound like we're not best friends already."

Whiskey was about to refute that, but he paused before anything came out. Shit. When did that happen? "I'll fight Kit for the position."

"Saying that my best friend is my cat?" Kent let out a low whistle. "Harsh, Whisk. Real harsh."

Inexplicably, the tightness in his chest was gone.

They won. They won. Holy shit, they won. Connor was smiling so widely it felt like his face was going to get split in half. When the Cup made it around to him, he felt like he was fucking glowing as he lifted it over his head and cheered. Kent and Connor had both gotten a goal in the final game, and the one before this, the Aces had gotten a shut-out. The time before last, they'd won in overtime. They'd lost two games, but he'd felt pretty good about it, and now they had won.

Whiskey was feeling the high of victory, and he'd like to be able to say that it was an impulse decision after the dust settled, but it wasn't. The reason he'd had the courage for it was because he was a fucking rookie and he'd gotten a goal in the game that won them the Stanley Cup, but no, it wasn't an impulse. If it had been an impulse, he wouldn't have waited until after the game when it was just the two of them heading back to the hotel so they could change for the team's victory outing. (Scraps had decided that the second best player on their team didn't need a babysitter. "If you can get a hattie, you can find your way back to the hotel," he'd said with a snort, knocking a fist on Whiskey's helmet after he'd brought it up after a game.)

Kent watched Whiskey rummage through his bag, amused. "I know you packed victory clothes."

"Scraps made me," he muttered. This was a pretty small bag, he didn't understand how he was missing it.

"That's how I know you packed 'em."

He finally found the button-down-- dark red and tighter than he normally would have have gotten for himself because Jenny had bought it for him and said it made him look hot-- and yanked it out victoriously. And, of course, dark jeans for the other half of his outfit, but he'd found those as soon as he opened the bag.

"That's what you're wearing?"

Whiskey gave him a flat look-- or as flat a look as he could managed when he was still smiling from the win. "Are you doing more plaid?"

"Hey, I wasn't judging," Kent said, holding his hands up in surrender. "I was surprised you even have a shirt with buttons."

Connor flipped him off, but he was grinning.

"All my plaid has buttons, don't give me that. All you ever wear is t-shirts."

"They're comfortable," he defended, getting to his feet. He pulled off the compression shirt he'd been wearing after the game and slid his arms through the sleeves of the button-down.

Kent snorted. "You say that like my clothes aren't comfortable."

"How would I know?" Connor asked, starting at the bottom and working his way up as he fastened the buttons. "I don't get why you're all dragging me out, anyways."

"You don't know?" Kent repeated incredulously. "Dude! We just won the Stanley Cup! This is a once in your career sort of event, you need to get wasted and play shitty drinking games."

"I'm underage, I won't be able to drink anywhere we go."

"Connor," Kent said, laying his hands on his shoulders and affecting severity. Connor's hands froze halfway up his shirt to look Kent in the eye. He had this fucking gleam like they owned the goddamn world and they were going to make the most of it. "We won the Cup. Nobody's going to fucking card you. And even if they want to, you don't question the guy that comes in with a bunch of obviously over-age professional hockey players." He started to get his normal smirk back, and all Connor could think was that he wanted to kiss it off of him. So he did.

He leaned forward, hands going from his own shirt to fist in Kent's.

It was only a fraction of a second before Kent was kissing him back, hands sliding up to his neck as they both shifted closer to get to a better angle. Kent met him for every kiss, both of them pressing harder and harder until both their lips were swollen and Connor was about to have to move his hands so he could see if Kent was as effected by this as he was, but a loud knock on the door stopped them.

"Yo, Whiskey! Stop primping we gotta go celebrate!" Swoops shouted.

Connor cleared his throat quietly, then yelled back, "I'm almost done!"

"You seen Parse? Bro's not in his room!"

"We were talking shit about all of you that didn't win the Cup your rookie year," Kent called in the direction of the door. He took half a step back, and Connor reluctantly let go of his shirt; there were wrinkles where he'd gripped the fabric so tightly that it wasn't bouncing like it normally would have.

"We're all champions today, asshole!" There was a loud thump that sounded like he'd kicked the door. "Get downstairs in the next five minutes or we're not waiting for you!" Swoops was never one for keeping his mouth shut, so when nothing else was forthcoming, it was obvious that he'd left to go wait downstairs like he said.

"We should probably go," Kent said, ruffling his hair. It's not like Connor had had his hands in it, but it looked a little messy, regardless.

"We could stay here," Connor offered tentatively.

Kent's eyes shot to the side, and Connor's stomach dropped. "That's uh-" The hand that was in his hair clenched, and it looked painful. He let go after a second. "I'm your captain," he said quietly. "If anyone found out, I could get kicked off the team. Nobody else would sign me, and-"

"It's fine," Whiskey said, offering a lopsided smile. He combed his fingers through his hair then buttoned his shirt the rest of the way. "I wasn't thinking about any of that, you know? Felt good, so I just kinda..." he trailed off, not knowing where he was going with it. Anything he said would be a lie, anyways. Kent would probably be able to tell.

"Yeah, it's fine," Kent said with a responding smile that looked a little less awkward than Whiskey's own. "I don't wanna- um-" he cut off, messing with his hair reflexively. "It probably wouldn't be a good idea to hook up with any guys unless you're planning on coming out."

Whiskey shook his head, because that was something he never planned on doing, right alongside this conversation that he never wanted to have. All the guys-- Parse included-- thought that he had a girlfriend, and it would be for the best if he continued to let everyone think that; it's why him and Jenny had gotten together in the first place. "Go on," he said, slapping Parse companionably on the shoulder, "you should get changed before Swoops follows up on his threat."

Parse snorted. "He wouldn't do that."

Whiskey raised an eyebrow.

"The captain pays for the first round," he explained, and Whiskey laughed, shaking his head.

#check please #kent parson #connor whisk #fanfic #my writing #the rest is only gonna be on ao3 not here

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letswritebangtan · 5 years

Text

promised a lie

College!au; Student!Jungkook x Student!reader

genre: fluff

synopsis: you had one goal set, and that was to make it to Harvard. As much as you were intelligent, talented and hardworking, there was still a chance you might miss out on your dream school. Jeon Jungkook wanted to give you that chance in exchange of a small favour. But why did he promise you something he couldn’t exactly give to you?__________________________________________________

“Wet socks or wet underwear?” Seokjin questioned.

“Seriously Jin? You should have been done with chapter two by now.” you warned.

“I’m taking a break, y/n.”

“You took one ten minutes ago. And that break lasted like eight minutes.”

“You know what’s depressing, y/n? The fact that you kept count.”

“It’s not depressing, if I don’t count for you then who will?”

“Oh come on! We’ve been doing this for two hours, you know it’s proven that an average person can only study up to two hours and after that nothing really goes into your brain so it’s pointless.” he argued.

“Where’d you read that, Wikipedia?”

“y/n,” he groaned, “At least let’s go grab a drink at the cafeteria. I heard there’s lemonade today.”

“I’m not thirsty.”

“Doesn’t matter, you’re my friend, and friends accompany each other to drink lemonade now let’s go.”

Soon you found yourself being dragged to where most students hung out during breaks. It was crowded as always, and loud. Jin ditched you to buy lemonade and asked you to find a table, and as you scanned the area your eyes landed on one of the loudest tables. The amount of testosterone showing there nearly sickened you, the football players were laughing obnoxiously at something one of the girls had said. None of them really caught your attention except for the youngest, Jeon Jungkook.

I’m telling you, if I say this guy is hot he is smokin hot. He’s built like a football player should be, broad shoulders, muscular back, long legs, and the rest of him was just muscles protruding everywhere they possibly could, but somehow it wasn’t overdone. He was perfect. His hair was straight but curled at the ends and parted slightly to the side. His doe eyes were jet black, and they were now looking at you.

You snapped out of your trance and turned away, continuing your hunt for a place to sit. You found one at a corner with used cutlery and dirty plates on top, but it was also a great place if you wanted to sit and stare at the handsome jock that was previously mentioned. However, it was also a perfect place for him to be able to watch you. But if you didn’t find a place to sit in the next five minutes, Seokjin will probably make you squeeze into a table with other people you didn’t really want to interact with. So you pushed whatever it was aside and sat down.

“You couldn’t have found a cleaner table? It looks like gorillas invaded this place.” he said as he cringed.

“Oh just shut up and sit. I asked the cafeteria lady to help clean up.”

“Or, maybe it’s because you have a really good view?”

“What?” you asked squinting at him, confused expression on your face.

Jin sat down and handed you a cup of lemonade.

“I know your pretty boy’s at twelve o’clock. Don’t need to hide it, y/n.” he teased.

“Are you fucking kidding me? He’s the last person I’d call pretty.” you scoffed.

“Then who’s the first?” he hummed.

“Jimin. He’s what you call a pretty boy. Just look at him, how does a guy look so hot in pink hair?” you sighed.

“Yeah you see, pink hair and everything, that’s all fake shit. Just look at me, I’m naturally extremely handsome. You can ogle at me instead.”

You picked up a half eaten fry on the table and flung it at your best friend making him shout his protests.

“Gross!”

You chuckled and took a sip of your lemonade, looking at what you were previously focusing on. You flinched slightly in surprise when you saw Jungkook already looking at you. He flashed you a smirk, and then a wink, and before he could do anything else your turned away quickly. Maybe looking at Jin’s face for now wasn’t such a bad idea.

time skip

Maths was horrible, but you didn’t expect it to be any better than the usual. You practically dragged yourself out of class as you walked to your locker. Jin had Chemistry, and you were done for the day. You had an hour’s shift at the library, so you could wait until Jin was done with class so you two could walk home together like usual. But today, god had different plans for you, because you almost had a heart attack when you saw fucking Jeon Jungkook leaning against the door of your locker.

“You’re right, she is hotter close up-” Taehyung grunted as he was cut off by Jungkook’s elbow to his stomach.

“Hi y/n.” Jungkook smiled at you and he dared to poke his tongue past his lips so that he could wet them in a swift motion.

“Yeah, hey.” you mumbled, confusion laced in your tone.

“You look really nice in those jeans,” Jungkook said as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Your eyes shot up to look at him as you stifled your laughter at his stupid remark. Jungkook realised what he said wasn’t so cool and his cheeks tinted pink, and you thought he was so much more attractive without his tough cool guy exterior.

“So you came to my locker to talk to me about my jeans?” you asked, eyebrows raised.

“I have a proposition.” he sighed in defeat. He turned to look at Taehyung, signalling him to get outta there, but he didn’t really catch that.

“Dude, your eyes are spasming.” Taehyung said worriedly.

Jungkook groaned and shoved him friend away. You heard a small “rude” before Taehyung left the two of you alone.

“Yeah so, back to the point. I need a favour.” he asked.

“What makes you think I’ll do you a favour?”

“You wanna consider this one, trust me.”

You bit your lip, thinking of whether you should let the guy proceed, but there was no harm in hearing what he had to say right?

You sighed and nodded, and he smirked before he continued talking.

“I need you to help me get a job at the library.”

“You what?” you asked surprised.

“You heard me, princess.”

“Okay, first of all, never call me that. Second, why on earth do you want a job at the library? I’m pretty sure your family isn’t short of cash.” you asked.

“It’s not about the money. I want work experience plus, it’ll look good on my profile. Universities care about this kinda stuff.” he explained.

“Oh, well, you shouldn’t be asking me. I’m not the one who decides whether or not to employ you.”

“Well that’s just it babe, since you work there and since you’re such an amazing student, the head librarian is definitely going to consider your recommendation. So if you could use that pretty little mouth of yours and let her know, I could make it worth your while.” he offered.

You wanted to smack him for flirting so outrageously like that, because you were pretty sure the way he spoke to you was no different than when he spoke to other girls.

“I’m not sleeping with you, you asshole.” you snapped.

“Okay, I’m a bit offended. And just so you know, that wasn’t what I was offering.”

“Oh,” you said feeling bashful, “Well then what were you offering?”

“You know how influential my dad is, and he’s got lots of contacts. He knows a guy at Harvard and I know how much of a sucker you are for that shitty place so I could talk to him to maybe get you-”

“You’ve gotta be shitting me, Jeon. Are you serious? Your dad really knows a guy? Also that place isn’t shitty, you probably think it is because you’re too stupid to qualify so you blame it on the institution.”

“Okay calm down, woman. Don’t need to attack my intelligence here. All I’m saying is that if you can get me this job, I can basically make your dreams come true. Bonus, you’ll be working together with me, and how great does that sound?” he said cockily.

“I might just pass on the offer because of your bratty attitude.”

“I’m not that bad.” he whined.

“Yeah we’ll see about that.”

“So, is it a deal?” he asked stepping closer to you, now crossing your line of personal space. He was so close that you could smell his cologne. It was like that for a while, before you came back to your senses and took a step back.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Great, I’ll see you around then, beautiful.” he replied with a wink and then left you alone to hate his guts but also to swoon just a little.

time skip

“He was flirting with you, y/n. I knew it, I fucking knew it from the start, that guy has a crush on you.” Seokjin said firmly.

“For the last time, Seokjin, he talks that way to every female he interacts with.” you defended.

“Will you ever stop being so dense? y/n there are three other people who work at the library, two of which are girls. It’s either he’s gay, or he has a crush on you. End of story.”

“I’ll go with ‘he’s gay’ then.” you shrugged.

Jin sighed and poked his fork into a piece of meat. “So, are you gonna get him the job?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I know for sure Harvard is what I want, but I don’t want to get in because they ‘talked’ me in, I wanna get in because I’m good enough.” you sighed.

“If you think about it, y/n, no amount of persuasion can go against your grades. If you meet the requirements which I’m sure you will, and if you’ve done extracurriculars which you have, talk or no talk, you’ll still be good enough.”

You sipped from your drink until its contents were empty and then tossed it in the bin. You stood up and gathered your things.

“It’s a deal then.”

You walked over to the one place you knew you’d find Jungkook at this hour. Stepping out onto the field you saw Jungkook on the tracks doing his daily push ups. Of course he was shirtless. But there was something else to look at too. His friends were with him, also doing push ups, also shirtless. More importantly, there was Jimin.

Hot damn he looked good working out, but then your eyes instinctively trailed to Jungkook. There was something about him that made him different from the rest. As hot as the football team was, Jungkook was attractive in ways more than just one.

He seemed to have noticed you standing there watching him. His expression turned from pained and exhausted to a surprised and happy one in the matter of seconds. He jumped up from the ground and grabbed his shirt from the bench, wiping his sweat off although not doing a great job at it, and then walked over to you.

His body was glistening, you could see his abs, his chest his slim waist his arms his everything. You were slightly flustered when he ran a hand through his hair, muscles flexing against his skin as if they were going to pop.

“Came to see me, princess?” he asked smirking.

“Lose the ‘princess’ would you? I have my answer.”

“So what’s the answer?” he asked.

“Well I’m not telling you when you’re all gross and sweaty. Go take a shower and put on a shirt.”

He chuckled, “You’re that bothered, huh? I knew your pink cheeks weren’t due to the sun.”

“W-what?” you stuttered.

“I’ll meet you outside in 15 minutes. We’ll go get coffee and you can talk me all you want.”

So you found yourself having coffee with Jeon Jungkook. He was real sweet though, nothing like you had thought of him before. He was funny too, and you realised behind the person that was the jock Jeon Jungkook, there was the real Jungkook. The smart, kind, funny and lovable one.

“How did you know I wanted to go to Harvard? You were a stranger to me before all of this.” you asked curious.

“You know the essays we had to write for English? When the teacher asked us to mark each others’ papers, I got yours. You mentioned it there.” he said.

“Oh, so you read my essay?”

“Yeah, I did. I thought it was great how you have hello kitty pyjamas.” he teased, making you gasp.

“Okay well screw you. I love those pyjamas, so much I included it in my writing.”

“I’d love to see you in them.”

“Not happening, Jeon.”

“Listen, what I said about Harvard, that was wrong. I apologise. It’s not shitty at all, I think it’s great that you have amazing goals and that you’re working so hard to achieve them. I admire that about you.” he said suddenly.

You swallowed and smiled shyly at him, “Uh, thanks I guess. And apology accepted.”

“You haven’t given me your answer though, y/n.”

“Wow, took you like six hours to finally address me using my name. I appreciate it, thanks. Anyway, my answer is yes, I’ll get you a job at the library.” you said.

He grinned and lifted his coffee cup to clink it with yours but you stopped him by placing a hand on his wrist. Jungkook looked up at you surprised that you initiated a form of physical contact with him.

“But there’s something else I want.” you asked with a glint in your eye.

“And what’s that?” he asked frowning.

“Set me up on a date with Jimin.”

Jungkook’s frown only deepened at the mention of his teammate’s name.

“Jimin? Why would you want to date him? He’s not that great.” Jungkook lied.

You shrugged, “He’s good looking, charming, and I’ve had a crush on him for a few months now.”

“You have?” Jungkook asked in disbelief.

You were having too much fun with this. Jin was right, Jungkook did like you. And you thought you’d have a little bit of fun with it until Jungkook confessed. It was obvious you felt the same way about him, but you tried to be subtle.

“Yeah, so, can you do that for me or not?” you questioned.

Jungkook chewed on his lower lip in annoyance, drumming his fingers onto the table.

Finally he sighed, “Okay, fine. But you get me my job first.”

“Consider it done, Jeon.”

“Jungkook.” he said quickly after.

You looked at him surprised and his gaze was hard on you. “Call me Jungkook. I don’t want to hear anymore of this Jeon nonsense. You call Jimin by his first name, but you can’t call me by mine?” he asked annoyed.

You wanted to hard to laugh, it was working. “Okay Jungkook, calm down.”

He sighed and leaned back in his seat and puffed his cheeks. You giggled at how he was so easily jealous, earning a look from him.

“What are you laughing at?” he asked.

“Nothing, you’re really cute that’s all.”

Well shiver me timbers, there you went embarrassing yourself. Did you really just say that out loud.

Jungkook raised an eyebrow as he smirked slightly, “Did you just call me cute?”

You huffed, accepting your defeat as your cheeks flushed. “Yeah so?” you retorted.

Jungkook chuckled as he leaned forward to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, making you freeze.

“You’re confused, y/n. You’re the cute one here.” he said, body still bent forward and his face close to yours.

“Very funny.” you tried to be sarcastic and sat back immediately.

time skip

Working with Jungkook wasn’t that bad. He was pretty organised and he was tall so he helped with all the books on the higher shelves. He didn’t forget to tease your height though, he wouldn’t miss the chance. He was also efficient, he finished all the tasks you assigned to him and he did a pretty damn good job at it. However, he did ask a lot of questions.

“Who the hell reads encyclopedias?”

“Why are the biography books so thick?”

“Hey y/n, you ever wonder what went through J.K. Rowling’s mind when she was writing Harry Potter? Like yea let’s make this kid a wizard so he can fly on a broom.”

“y/n why are you so hot?”

“Jungkook, shut up.”

“Now that’s no way to thank someone for a compliment.”

“Will you just enter these into the computer?” you groaned as you handed him a stack of papers.

“Sure.” he chimed before plopping himself onto the office chair.

It was pretty late and there were about five to ten people at the library, all scattered in different corners. You and Jungkook were pretty far away from them, so you practically has the space to yourselves.

Just as you were about to turn around, you tripped over one of the cables and you stumbled like a maniac and guess where you landed? Right smack on his lap.

Jungkook grunted as he took your weight, and you may or may not have put a little pressure onto his dick, so.....

“Whoa, you okay there y/n?” he asked concerned, his hands placed on your waist instinctively.

You were still recovering from the shock, so you took a few extra seconds to respond.

“I-I’m okay.” you exhaled. Then you realised you were still on his lap. You shot up and backed away slightly.

“Oh shit, I’m really sorry.” you apologised.

“It’s cool, I’d rather you land here than the cold hard floor.” he said.

“Did I hurt you? I mean I’m quite heavy so-”

“Heavy? y/n you’re as light as a feather.”

“But I’m pretty sure I-ah!” you yelped when you felt yourself being lifted from the ground.

You clasped your hand over your mouth because this was the library and this was no place for squealing. You saw Jungkook grinning up at you, his arms tucked right under your butt as he supported your weight in the air.

“Jungkook, what the actual fuck do you think you’re-”

“See? Light as a feather.” he said cockily.

“Will you put me down?” you scolded.

“Not until you admit you’re not heavy.” he challenged.

“You can’t carry me forever.” you scoffed.

“Oh we’ll see about that, babe.”

You rolled your eyes and placed your hands on his shoulders for support.

“You need to get your arms away from my ass, Jungkook.” you warned.

“Well how am I supposed to lift you then? Bridal style? I could-”

“No!” you exclaimed, and then scolded yourself for being loud in your head.

“No,” you huffed. “Don’t you dare.”

“Just admit you’re light and I’ll set you free, princess.”

“For the love of god, okay fine, I’m light. Lighter than a piece of thread now will you put me down?” you wriggled in his grip.

“Don’t move too much you’re slipping!” Jungkook whisper shouted.

But it was too late because Jungkook lost his grip on you and you felt yourself plunging to the floor but then you felt hands at the bottom of your thighs and you clung onto Jungkook like your life depended on it. Your legs were now wrapped around his waist and now his hands weren’t under your butt, they were on your ass cheeks instead.

“This isn’t any better.” you protested.

“I kinda like it.” he said coolly.

“Jeon Jungkook, put me down this instant. I admitted whatever you wanted me to.”

“Hm, I could put you down, or I could just keep you like this.” he hummed.

Your hands were wrapped around his neck and your faces were now closer than ever before. If this wasn’t the moment I don’t know what would be.

“y/n?” he mumbled.

Your eyes flickered from his lips and then to his eyes. “Hm?”

“What would you do if I kissed you right now?” he muttered softly.

Your fingers played with the strands at his nape, and Jungkook watched as you licked your lips unintentionally.

“I think I would kiss you back.”

And those were the last words spoken before the kiss. He pressed his lips onto yours, sharing and open mouthed kiss. He sucked on your lower lip making you groan in want. Slowly, he snuck his tongue in, pleading for entrance and you didn’t hesitate giving in. And that was how the two of you made out at the library reception, mouth on mouth, hands everywhere.

You pulled away gasping for air, and Jungkook’s lips moved to latch onto your neck. You whimpered when he bit down onto your flesh and tugged at his locks.

“Jungkook.” you gasped.

“What is it baby?” he mumbled against your skin.

“We’re in public.”

“Great.”

“Jungkook.” you scolded as you swatted his arm.

He grumbled and pulled away to look at your neck, satisfied with the bruise he left. His gaze then trailed to your face, your cheeks flushed and your hair slightly messy.

“You look really beautiful, have I ever told you that?” he said out of the blue.

That brought an instant smile to your face. You giggled and pushed his face away playfully.

“What’s up with you?” you asked.

Jungkook set you down but didn’t let go of you just yet, holding you close by your waist.

“I didn’t want this job because of that University bullshit. I wanted it because I wanted to get closer to you. I’ve been trying to think of ways to talk to you but bribing you was the stupidest of them all and I can’t believe I went with that.” he admitted.

You smiled and toyed with the fabric of his shirt.

“Stupid or not, your plan worked didn’t it?” you teased.

Jungkook chuckled, “I guess it did. I really like you, y/n. And uh, would you wanna, you know, be my girlfriend?”

“I’d love to, you dork.”

“So, I don’t have to set you up on a date with Jimin?” he asked hopefully.

“Well what do you think, genius?”

__________________________________________________

the end. do like and reblog pretty please <3 i hope you guys enjoyed reading this one.

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ewankoseyo · 5 years

Text

serious || highschool!jackson au

A/N: Just a lil something I whipped up on a bus ride. Hella longer than I expected but here you go! Part 2 of magnetic coming very soon!

——

jackson is the male lead in those cheesy teen romcoms who’s the most handsome and most popular guy in school and is actually nice to everyone

he messes around in class too much and can be really chatty but because he’s so nice and polite, teachers can’t really get mad at him so they just kind of shush him in between lessons

they have him come in during lunch to help them clean lab supplies as a lesson

which he does without complaining BECAUSE HE’S JUST SO DANG NICE

actually makes conversation with them and basically knows about the personal lives of all the teachers

he’s a golden retriever in human form

basketball team? team captain

fencing team? FOUNDED IT

drama club? auditions for all the spring plays because that’s his sports-free season

chess club? he marched to the principal’s office with the school nerds when the club was threatened by school budget cuts and argued with the principal to keep it open

(“oh you know what mr. wang? you’re right! I think the school CAN spare some funds for the chess club!”)

did I mention he volunteers his time at the local children’s hospital reading to kids on the weekends when he doesn’t have games or matches?

seriously, how does this kid have so much time for all of these activities

he should have “perfect to take home to your parents” tattooed to his forehead

but you stubbornly try to resist his charms because you think he plays too much

he sits behind you in math class and always compliments the back of your head

“did you curl your hair today? it looks really pretty!”

“thanks jackson…”

offers to walk with you to class and carry your textbooks

“your hands look full, let me help you out!”

“it’s okay jackson…”

(he completely ignores this and takes your books to class anyway)

(he’s running to class so you have no time to protest)

it’s not that you hated jackson wang

based off of his personality, it would be a crime to hate him

but falling for jackson wang was pointless

jackson charmed anyone and flirted with everyone

he received love confessions by the week but politely rejected each and every one of them

no one has ever heard of him being in a relationship which came as a shocker to the whole student body

him? THE jackson wang??? sinGLE??????? HOW???????????

at one point, a rumor flew around that he was gay

why else would he reject the prettiest girls in school?

but you knew better

jackson wang was a free spirit

with all his time spent being so involved in everyone else’s lives, there was no time left to focus on the feelings in his

jackson was seriously the nicest and coolest and cutest guy on the planet

but he just wasn’t serious

so you tried to brush him off when you felt he was playing too much

because you didn’t have time for games

besides, why would a perfect angel of a man-child like jackson wang ever return your serious feelings?

(if you had serious feelings for him, that is)

you literally burned yourself with the curling iron this morning trying to use it as a microphone

how could jackson ever fall for you?

so yeah

falling for jackson wang was FUTILE

anyways,

one day jackson tried to pass you a note during class but you just shot him dirty glances before turning back to the board

“jackson, I’m trying to concentrate.”

“ah sorry, I’ll just ask after class! hehe”

but your teacher had other plans after class

the two of you were asked to stay back (but rest assured, you both weren’t in trouble)

so it turns out there was a downside to jackson’s super-involvement in extracurriculars

his grades had been slipping in math ever since fencing season started

(“I’m sorry sir, we’ve been having tournaments back to back!”)

if he wanted to keep competing, he was going to have to get his grades up

with the help of a tutor

someone who…idk…has the highest grade in class but needed some extra credit to bump it up two grade points to a 100 ???????

what could you say? the universities you were applying to were really competitive

so you begrudgingly agreed to tutor jackson wang until he got his grades up

he would follow you home after school and you’d work with him for an hour

he insisted on going to your house since the days were getting shorter and he didn’t want you to have to walk home alone in the dark all because you had to help him

damn him and his kind heart

through these after school tutor sessions, he got to know your family

as expected, they LOVED HIM

whenever your parents would come home from work, he would stop what ever problem he was doing to talk to them

“hello aunty and uncle, how was work?”

“did you confront your co-worker who was giving you a hard time today?”

“I hear you might be getting a promotion soon. good luck!”

when your younger siblings were around, he’d take a “study break” to play with them

you would have to snap jackson back into focus

“c’mon jackson, you still need to finish this problem set.”

“sorry, we’re almost done solving this puzzle!”

your tutoring sessions would end with the two of you just talking

mostly just jackson asking you questions about yourself and you answering

“what do you like doing on the weekends?”

“idk watch movies? listen to music? I’m pretty boring”

“what kind of movies do you like watching? we should have a movie night one day!”

as much as you were trying to avoid falling for jackson wang, you weren’t about to kick him out of your house

you weren’t rude

and it’s not like you had anything else to do

(you had gotten all your homework done while he was getting friendly with your family)

plus you weren’t this used to having someone be interested in you

inquisitive about you, that is, ahem

even though this was probably just a friendly thing jackson wang does with everyone, you appreciated someone wanting to get to know you just because

so you let him hang around and ask you more questions

soon, the questions were getting to be a bit much to and you were getting annoyed

“jackson you keep asking me questions about me, can you start telling me about yourself?”

jackson was the guy everyone thought they knew through his actions but what people knew about the real him was all just heresay

maybe it was because you were trying to avoid getting too close to him or maybe part of the jackson wang charm was putting the other person in the center of his conversations with them, but after all of his questions, you realized you knew next to nothing about his personal life even though you’d been tutoring him for two weeks

jackson laughed at your sudden outburst

“me? what do you want to know about me?”

it then occurred to you that he also wasn’t used to people asking about him either

(what a kind, selfless person, ugh I hate him)

“anything! what’s your family like? why are you so involved in school? what are you doing after graduation?”

you learned that he grew up in a family of athletes so he’d been in sports for as long as he could he remember

his older brother would pull pranks on him growing up, like telling him their parents found him in the dumpster as a baby and took him home to raise him

but now he really looks up to his older brother and always asks him for advice even though he may be busy

you learned that as a child, he would have a difficult time paying attention and keeping still, so his mom put him in a bunch of activities to keep him occupied

and this probably carried on to high school

but besides how it was affecting his grades, he loved and gave his all in every activity he was involved in

his dad taught him to be kind to others and to give tenfold to those who had nothing to give back to you

which is why he spent his extra time volunteering

plus he enjoyed getting to know the stories of the people he was helping, there was always something to learn in each of them

as for after graduation?

you learned he wasn’t completely sure yet

he didn’t want to say too much because there were just a lot of options up in the air, something about possibly moving to korea because of an opportunity there, but he couldn’t say it out loud so as to not jinx it

so yeah, you learned a lot about him in a span of two hours (and this is just after tutoring, my goodness)

what else did you learn?

you learned you had made a mistake in asking him about his personal life because oh god now this was getting all too real and you found your heart aching at the way he would look down and smile, seeming uncharacteristically shy when talking about something he didn’t tell a lot of people or when his cheeks met his eyes when recalling a funny childhood memory or when his hands moved animatedly while describing a fencing move or the way his laugh was the most boyish most genuine laugh you’d ever heard and you’d want to spend the rest of your life listening to it—

it was happening

no, it happened

you had fallen for THE jackson wang’s charms and he wasn’t even trying

this realization must have translated to worry on your face because jackson stopped himself in the middle of a story about how he got into the chess club to ask you if you were okay

“wha-yeah, I’m fine why wouldn’t I be?”

jackson grabbed your hands and gave them a gentle squeeze before rubbing his thumbs against them soothingly

“you must be worried about college apps”

“what?”

“you mentioned before that some of your deadlines were coming up and you were stressing out about them and I noticed sometimes in math you’re not paying attention to the lesson so you can work on them”

if you weren’t so flustered from him holding your hands, you would have burst out laughing from his conclusion

“right, college apps”

and as if you couldn’t be any more flustered, you soon found your face grow even hotter when jackson reached out with one of his hands to tuck the stray hairs framing your face behind your ears soothingly

his other hand still held yours and he gave it another squeeze before giving you a sweet, reassuring smile

“you are one of the smartest, most hardworking girls I know. you study until the wee hours of the morning not just to get a good grade, but to get the best grade because you won’t settle for anything less. you’re someone who knows what she wants and won’t let obstacles get in her way. you support your classmates when they need help with an assignment or want your input on something and you never put them down or make them feel any less than when they don’t get something right. and hey, you’re helping me get my grades up! if anyone deserves to get into the college of their dreams, it’s you!”

boy had the AUDACITY to boop your nose with his index finger with that last point

and you were frozen

how were you supposed to respond to getting jackson wang’d by jackson wang?

that is until—

“can you stop that?”

jackson, who had been busy stroking your hair as he spoke, was now the one who was frozen

“what do you mean?”

you shifted farther from him on the couch you two shared. you really hadn’t meant for things to end up like this when you started tutoring him.

“I mean, could you stop being so nice to me?”

you must have looked so crazy to him (who doesn’t like it when people are nice to them???) but you kept going

“you keep asking questions about me and you compliment me every day and you notice things about me--heck you’re the only one who notices whenever I curl my hair—”

“how could I not notice you?”

you were sure that with the way your mouth was moving but not forming words, you were giving your best fish impression

“li-like this! you’re just being so nice to me a-and you just need to stop doing that...before I get the wrong idea...”

and the way jackson looked at you after you said this completely melted your heart because he just looked soooo genuinely hurt and concerned for you, with his eyebrows furrowed with worry and his lips pursed as if trying to find the right words to say next

“and what do you mean by...‘wrong idea?’”

and you just stared at him, silently begging him to not let you continue what you were about to say, but he was silently encouraging you to continue

“that you might like me back...then I feel stupid because why would you...why would someone like you--I’m sorry I can’t do this--”

you feel your voice getting caught in your throat and you’re about to make a run for it to your bedroom upstairs when you feel a hand tugging you back to the couch and all of a sudden you’re colliding into jackson’s chest

(it was a good thing your family was out running errands!)

“now can you stop doing that”

you barely register what jackson is saying as you feel the vibrations of his chest as he speaks, his arms holding you in place between his legs so you couldn’t get away again

you’re sitting between jackson wang’s freaking legs!

he takes hold of your arms and repositions you so that you’re forced to look at him

“yeah I’m gonna need you to stop doing that thing everyone else does where they talk about me like I’m all high and mighty, because no one tries to get to know me and it makes me feel isolated from everyone else”

“I’m sorry jackson I didn’t know—”

“and stop talking about yourself like that. I like you because you’re you. you’re smart. you’re polite. whenever I talked to you in school, you never flat out told me to go away even if it seemed like you didn’t want to talk. based on your amazing family, I sense that you’re amazing. you’re working so hard in helping me to raise my math grade. and I really appreciate you trying to get to know me. the real me.”

“wait...so you really like me?”

if you didn’t look so cute in his arms, jackson would have rolled his eyes so hard and smacked you

“of course I do! why else do you think I compliment you every time you curl your hair? or why would I offer to carry your books to class even though I know you’re highly capable?”

“I don’t know...I guess all those times I thought you were just playing around and—”

“how’s this for playing around?”

you didn’t have time to ask what he meant then as you felt his hands gently cup your face and he closed the distance between your lips within seconds

if he wasn’t holding you steady, you swear you would have melted on that couch

the kiss was slow and warm, his lips passionately working against yours, as if silently reassuring you he meant every word he’d said

every little peck telling you how much he cared

and when you finally pulled away from the lack of oxygen, you were sure there was no other place where you were meant to be in that moment

jackson placed his thumb under your chin and moved your head so you were looking at him

“it’s always been you.”

so you two continue on like that for the next couple of weeks

studying, making out, more studying, reward cuddles for studying

and before you know it, jackson’s grades are way above what your teacher needed in order for him to keep competing

but that doesn’t stop him from continuing to study with you

because although he had a tendency to get seriously distracted

he was always serious about you

——

#got7 #got7 imagines #got7 drabbles #got7 scenarios #got7 au #jackson wang #kpop imagines #kpop drabbles #got7 oneshot #kpop scenarios

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