#imagine. no one in my group has gotten one so we’re just screwed!!!
Text
Every time I see someone else who didn’t get a presale code I immediately follow I feel like we’re all bonded through this experience
#Taylor Swift#imagine. no one in my group has gotten one so we’re just screwed!!!#god my luck is truly the worst#the eras tour#eras tours#eras presale
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
The magic-spy and the bird
the best friends brother trope is in my top 5 tropes. but I've also got a thing for angst. So here we areeeee. enjoy! <3
dick Grayson x f!reader
Jason Todd had asked you specifically to ask his brother out. And he did use the word brother, which you made a point to bring up. He shot it down but still decided to push his message towards you. You should ask Dick out. It wasn’t that simple.
“Jay I don’t think you’ve thought this through.” you said.
He chuckled, “Of course I did. I wouldn’t say it out loud if it wasn’t a well-cooked plan.”
You made a face at him.
“Okay look, all I'm saying is you’ve got nothing to lose. If anything you're way out of his league.” he said and then gulped down the rest of his beer.
You didn’t like beer and so you worked on a Pina colada. You had done the whole beer thing for years now. As a trained spy it was your go-to for missions at bars. Safe to say you were sick of ales, craft beers and everything in between.
“Ah yes, the magic using spy.” you nodded your head.
Jason nodded along with you.
“Exactly. Bird brains would eat that up.” he said.
“And when would I tell him that I knew about his secret identity? Before I tell him about mine or after?” you asked.
Jason sighed and raised his hand for another beer. You rolled your eyes at this. Once he had a thought it was very hard for him to let it go. Especially when it included a thought about people he cared for- no matter how much he claimed the opposite.
“All Im saying is, you never know until you try.”
“What are you a fortune cookie?”
“Fuck off. I’m being serious and I do give great advice you can ask Duke.”
2 DAYS LATER
You look at Caliban with bated breath. He had just gotten info on a magic-based rebellion. Work was tight when you rolled with the good guys for too long of a time. You blame that on two men on your life, Jason and Constantine.
“I’ll put in a good word for you.” he says.
“Thank you, I really appreciate it. And any-”
Before you can finish telling Caliban that he can call in a favor from you at anytime your surroundings change. In a flash you go from one of the underworld crime bars to a room you’ve never been in before.
You look around and sure enough you see the culprit. Constantine.
“There she is!” he smiles.
Not only did he summon you, he did so in front of an audience. Circled around him is Gotham’s crime fighting family. All of them except Jason, Cass and Duke. All of which know about your secret identity and would’ve stopped Constantine from summoning you. The rest of the family are all looking at you liked you’ve grown a second head.
You look down at what you’re wearing. The long sleeve off the shoulder skin tight black dress was the perfect choice for the club you were supposed to be in. Maybe not so much for a meeting with the Bats and his birds.
You look right ahead at Constantine, “I don’t like being summoned.”
“Ah, but you’re the best person I know for this job. I had to get you over here.” he says.
You take a quick look at all the other people in the room. Then at the screen behind them. Your information is plastered on it. Well, the information that you’ve decided to let the government think was yours. Your codename was at the top of the screen.
“Constantine says that you’re the best way into the underworld.” Batman says.
You’re confused to say the least. Constantine was Constantine, why would he call you in order to get them into the underworld when he can do it himself? It defeats the purpose of having to call him.
“I’m sorry,” you direct to Batman and then look at your friend, “I need you to state specifically what I’m needed for.”
Constantine moved from the family over to you. As he did you watched as Nightwing followed him with his own eyes. Now Dick knows you’re not just Jason’s friend from around Gotham. Great.
“Bats got intel that something it going down with this magic group, the-” he starts.
“hex mutiny.” you finish.
“You already know about them?” Nightwing says.
“I was just getting someone to put in a good word for me with them before you summoned me here. You’ve got great timing you know that?” you say to Constantine.
He smiles, “Well then it seems like you can be of great service, spygames.”
“And what exactly would I be doing, if I can even get a spot with them?” you throw out the question to the family.
Red Robin crosses his arms, “We need someone on the inside to tell us what they are planning for Gotham.”
“I doubt they’d let a newbie in on their plans.”
“Good thing you won’t be a newbie.” Batman says.
Constantine conjures an amulet in his hand. You want to hit him over the head. He could really be a pain in the ass. You grab it from him.
“With this, you’ll be in the perfect position to get in and get out. Easy.” he says.
You shake your head, “Every time you say that I get a new scar.”
“I promise sweetheart. No scars this time.”
“Yeah yeah, you owe me for this.”
EXACTLY ONE WEEK LATER
You knew you would end up wounded. Typically with Constantine it was nothing deadly, or nothing your own magic couldn’t fix. But you knew that your luck had to run out some day. And it wasn't his fault.
After finding out what the group was really up to you couldn’t just let them operate. They weren’t really rebels. No they used that name to paint a narrative. They were fascists.
You held the wound to your waist to stop the bleeding. This would have to be the farthest you could go. There was no way you could run out of this. Not with the blood seeping through the cracks of your fingers.
At least you brunt the members down to the ash. It took a lot out of you. And that’s why you weren’t prepared for a hit that tore right through you.
“Why aren’t you moving?” Jason, or Redhood, said through the comms.
You leaned against the hallway wall.
At least you’d die someplace pretty. When you first came in you didn't notice how clean and meticulous everything was. There were painting of famous magicians on the walls. Along with some stolen art, a Van Gogh or two.
You ripped the amulet off your neck and felt the illusion fade. The necklace fell to the floor and you let out a pained breath.
“I think,” you coughed and on the clean wall was not splatters of blood, “this is it.”
You could hear Jason shouting on the other end. He was calling out your name, calling out for Constantine to come and help you. Duke was calling for you too. And you could’ve sworn you heard Cass say your name once.
With your only free hand you tried to open a portal out of the base. You knew it would be useless as you had a mortal wound and portal magic works best under no stress and panic, or blood loss. The usual light from your hands glowed faintly until it didn’t.
“Constantine can’t summon you?” Dick asked.
At that you let your body drag down the wall until you reached the floor. When you did sit down more blood came out. So you decided to lay down horizontally.
“Hey hey- I told you I wasn’t gonna let anything happen to you.” you hear Constantine through the comms.
You want to laugh, but it ends out more of a chocked gargle.
“I screwed up the mission. I deserve it.” you said.
“You did good. Better than any of us.” Batman said.
“Constantine you need to call in whatever favors you have to get her out of there. Now!” Jason shouted.
“Dont,” you started.
“No. We’re getting you out of there-”
“Jason, I’m not a saint. I never would’ve imagined going out like this.” you said.
Once you were born you were thrusted in this world. All you knew was to use magic as a weapon. To get ahead, to get power, to get the glory. And that lasted you until you turned 19.
Then Constantine crossed paths with you. He was the one to show you that magic has other uses. Such as helping and healing. You learned the best stuff from him. And you took what you learned and began to help in ways you could.
You didn’t go on the straight and narrow. Never did you consider yourself a morally correct person. Sometimes the lines were blurred, or they need to be blurred. And so you took down seedy organizations, went on recon missions all over the world.
It wasn’t justice. But it was close enough that you could sleep at night or the odd hours of the morning for more than four hours.
“Sweetheart I don’t break my promises.” Constantine said finally.
You were just beginning to feel your eyes grow heavy. The pain was starting to be comfortably numb. Then above you appeared someone you weren’t expecting in the slightest.
“Caliban?” you asked.
“You owe me double.”
4 DAYS LATER
When you woke up you felt battered and weak You weren’t used to these feelings and you weren’t used to being so close to death. Everyday was a new experience when you’re the Priestess of Espionage.
You cracked open one eye to find a couple of deviants at your side. Jason, Duke and Cass. The youngest took the chair next to you while Duke and Jason seemed to take the floor. Since they weren’t in their gear you guessed that you were out for longer than a couple of hours.
“Not my version of hell but I’ll allow it.” you say in a raspy voice.
It wakes everyone up.
Jason and Duke bolt to your bedside.
“Why’d you almost die on me?” and “Are you feeling okay?” come from them both, respectively. It makes you want to laugh but when you feel the ache in your waist you stop yourself.
“I’m alive, so there’s that. Positives.” you answer.
Jason shoots his younger siblings a look and they scurry out the room. You try to sit up to ask what it was for but he puts his hands up for you to stop any movement. So you lay back down.
“He would kill me if you tore your stitches.”
You shut your eyes, “Jason I don’t think Constantine would kill you per say.”
You hear the door opening so you decide to open your eyes. And sure enough you see Jason leaving the room and someone coming in. Dick Grayson, out of his suit as well.
As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t read his face. Besides the clear betrayal that was there. He definitely knew that you knew he’s Nightwing.
“Hi.” you say.
His face softens, “Hi.”
“I just want to say that I would’ve told you about who I am. Sooner that you think actually but this mission kinda derailed all of that.” you say.
With his arm crossed over his chest he nods, “How long did you know I was Nightwing?”
You wince.
“For about two years now. Once Jason told me he was Red it was hard to not notice the similarities of the Wayne family and the Bat one.”
He laughs at that and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. It must be going good if he wants to laugh.
“And when did he tell you that I like you?” he asks.
“He didn’t explicitly say that.”
There’s a beat of silence. You’re looking at him and he’s looking at you. But he’s the one who seems to be holding his breath this time. You try to hide the smirk you feel forming on your lips.
“What?” he asks.
“Jason had told me that I should ask you out. He didn’t say anything about you liking me.” you answer him.
The red tint that covered Dick Grayson was absolutely adorable.
He nods his head to himself. Twice.
“I- I’m gonna get Jason for you.” he moved to the door.
And you don’t really know what to say. All your words get jumbled in your brain and you can’t put them together in a way that is smooth enough so you deicide to just try your best.
“If you were to ask me out, I would say yes.” you say.
He looks directly at you. Then his signature smirk appears.
“I’ll bring back some food for later.” he says.
“it’s a date.” you answer.
#dc x reader#Dick Grayson x reader#nightwing x reader#Dick Grayson imagine#nightwing imagine#dc imagine#dc#nightwing#Dick Grayson#Jason Todd x reader#Jason todd imagine
228 notes
·
View notes
Text
Tell Me I'm Not Funny
Request: darkandmysteriousbutheartofgold!ellie and wholesomeanddoesn'tunderstandwhyelliedoesn'tlikeher!reader where they're both part of the friend group but ellie just thinks reader is straight and messing with her pls
Notes: I don’t usually write MCU!Peter, so if he comes up in any future fics (like as the reader’s stepdad 👀 I’ve loved spideypool longer than I’ve loved Negasonic) you can safely assume it’s Andrew Garfield. But, for this time, this is MCU!Peter. Everyone in the friend group is 18-20, just to be clear.
This really isn't my best work, but it's a fun little slice of life piece. A lot of my ideas are pretty cinematic, I can picture them in my head but sometimes those pictures don't really translate into words. I may revisit this one day.
Warnings: D-slur (reclaimed by Ellie in one line), allusions to prior assault (an unwanted kiss that could've been more had another character not stepped in), and that's about it. Oh, and a little swearing, but this is an imagine for a character from Deadpool. If you can't handle swearing, you're on the wrong blog.
Synopsis: You’re into Ellie, but she’s with your good friend Peter. She treats you like you don’t even exist, and in the few instances she does acknowledge you, it’s usually just to make some sarcastic remark. You’re head-over-heels, though, and decide to deal with your unrequited love by writing her a song she’ll never hear.
“Fuck, that movie was terrible,” Michelle groans. “I’m just glad it was a matinee show and we didn’t have to pay as much to see it.”
“The special effects were good, but can’t Disney just leave stuff alone?” Peter agrees.
“Next thing you know they’ll be making a live action Toy Story, as if the original wasn’t traumatizing enough. I don’t want to imagine Watermelon as a sentient being. She’s seen some shit,” you snicker.
“Who’s Watermelon?” Ellie asks with a dark chuckle, and you clam up. How had you forgotten she was here?
“Oh, uh, nobody.”
“Don’t tell me you still sleep with a stuffed animal,” she snarks. “You really do need to grow up.”
“Don’t be mean, Ellie,” Peter protests.
“Watermelon is cute, everybody likes cute things!” Yukio adds.
“I think a live-action Toy Story could be cool,” Ned says. “It’d look really good if they did stop-motion animation.”
“Oh, you’re right!” you chirp. “It’d be quite the undertaking, but it would look badass.”
“I think you’re using that term a little loosely,” Ellie grumbles, and you have to stop yourself from frowning, instead you laugh it off. Why does she always pick on you? Sure, she’s got a witty remark for everybody, but she’s way harder on you. It hurts, she really is so gorgeous and funny and mysterious and everything you want in a woman, but she acts like she can’t stand you.
Ellie and Peter head off together, Peter still hasn’t gotten around to getting his license and Ellie seems happy to give him a ride. You really don’t stand a chance.
You and the others pile up in MJ’s SUV for some late-night band practice.
“I don’t know if I can do it,” you admit to Yukio in the furthest row back.
“You can,” she insists. “You’re a way better singer than Lola, anyways.”
“I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to give her the wrong impression, I-”
“For the millionth time, Y/N, you didn’t. If she hadn’t left the band, we would’ve kicked her out. Not just for cheating on me, but for hurting you.”
“I guess,” you sigh. “Why can’t you sing instead?”
“Because I’m flat.”
“Yukio, breast size doesn’t have anything to do with singing ability, you’ve just gotta practice,” you joke.
“Shut up!” she giggles, punching you in the arm. “Plus, when you sing, the songs are being sung as they were written. We’re getting the real feelings.”
“Speaking of… I have something new I’m thinking about sharing tonight. Do you mind if I text you the demo?”
“Ooh, a first look! Hell yes!”
You text her the audio file and she puts in a wireless earbud, nodding along. Her smile gets wider and wider as she listens, and when she’s done, her assessment shocks you.
“Oh my gosh. You’re into Ellie.”
“What?!” you squeak. “No way!”
“You are! But, uh-”
“Don’t even say it. I know I don’t have a chance in hell. She only tolerates me for the sake of you and Peter.” Despite the gloominess of your tone, Yukio gets a mischievous glint in her eye, it confuses you. But, that’s just Yukio. Her thoughts are all over the place; she and Ellie balance each other out that way. They dated a couple of years ago, but it didn’t work out. They decided they were better off as friends.
“Screw that other song, we’re using this as the lead single. Everybody’s gonna love it, do you have the sheet music?”
“Yeah, uh, it’s in my bag.”
“Awesome.” Yukio’s grinning like she’s won something. Is the song that good? “We’ll have to practice this one a lot, we definitely need to have it ready by the concert this Friday.”
Right. Liz’s 19th birthday party. Apparently Peter had convinced her to let the band play, it’d be cheaper than hiring a more established artist.
“Our first paying gig? I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you remind her. She scoffs and rolls her eyes.
“We’re mostly gonna be playing covers of Liz’s favorite songs, and she only has so many. We’ve gotta beef up the setlist with originals, and this is perfect! Has that pop-y fun vibe, it’ll fit right in.”
“Yeah, but if it’s that obvious how I feel about her after one listen-”
“Only because I already had a hunch after Daft Pretty Boys,” Yukio clarifies cheerily, and you sigh.
“Fair enough.”
The gang makes it to Michelle’s house, travelling down to the side door and going into the basement from there. MJ’s parents have encouraged her creativity from day one, and were ecstatic when the band was formed. You speculate that they’re mostly happy that she’s made friends. Writing and photography can be lonely hobbies.
“Y/N has something new for us!” Yukio chirps.
“That fast?” Ned’s surprised as you hand him the sheet music. He skims it. “Holy shit, this is a wicked solo! Thanks, Y/N!”
“Well, I’m hoping highlighting everybody else’s talent will disguise my lack thereof,” you chuckle.
“Don’t be stupid, we’ve all heard you sing backup,” MJ says. “You’re Ryan Ross, she’s Brendon Urie. I’m just glad we booted her out before she decided she was gonna be the only pangolin in The Pangolins.”
Everyone laughs at that.
“Let’s try it,” Michelle continues, and everybody agrees. After a sound check and a few runs of the song, it’s still clumsy, especially on your part. You’re not really used to playing and singing at the same time, outside of backup vocals, which require far less focus.
“I suck,” you mumble, but it happens to be into the microphone.
“You don’t!” Ned insists.
“With that attitude, we’re not going anywhere,” Yukio says. You hate it when she gets to the tough love stage of her support. You wish she’d stay in the shallow reassurances stage, it’s easier to brush off. “You wouldn’t be the lead singer if we all thought you sucked. We would’ve just put an ad in the paper. You’re awesome, get over it!”
You sigh.
“Fine. Thank you.”
“Say it,” she insists.
“I’m awesome,” you huff, it’s hard not to smile when Yukio tries to look serious.
“Damn straight,” Yukio says. “Or, I guess not, considering that was about Ellie.”
“Yukio!” you squeal.
“That’s about Ellie?!” Ned exclaims.
“Obviously,” MJ scoffs, fiddling with her tuners.
“Is it that obvious?!” You can’t help but feel embarrassed. Ellie probably knows exactly how you feel, maybe that’s why she dislikes you so much. Her boyfriend’s stupid friend has a crush.
“Wait, but at the beginning…” Ned trails off, before laughing. “Oh my gosh, I get it.”
“Get what? Oh… Y/N, have I ever told you how much I love you?” MJ asks.
“I- I love you, too?” You’re puzzled by their words, but you’ve got enough on your plate.
“Let’s go ahead and practice some of Liz’s favorites while we’re here,” Yukio suggests. “It’s a pretty big set list.”
You practice until dinner, getting a pizza and deciding to make a night of it since it was a little late for Michelle to be dropping you all off at your assorted residences.
You all sleep on a pallet in the basement, and despite your worries, you manage to get some rest.
Over the next few days, The Pangolins practice at every free moment, until it’s finally time for the party.
“So, just pictures of everything?” Oh, shit. She’s not supposed to be here. How are you supposed to sing that song with her here?
“Yeah! I know with how many people are coming, I’m probably not going to get as much time as I want with everyone, so pictures will be a good way to remember the night.”
“Why not just invite less people?” Ellie wonders.
“I want all my friends to be here,” Liz explains. “How’s the sound check going, Y/N?”
“It’s going great,” you say into the microphone, demonstrating the quality and volume with a smile. “Thanks for letting us play here tonight.”
“Well, Peter said you guys are great. Are you really gonna debut your best song so far tonight?”
“Oh, um,” you stutter, stepping away from the microphone. “Maybe not.”
“What? Oh, come on, please, it’ll make the night even more special! You’re playing covers of all my old favorites, sing me my new favorite!” Liz presses, but she’s not being demanding or bratty, she seems genuinely excited.
“If the birthday girl says so, who am I to say no?” you concede. Hopefully Ellie will be too distracted taking pictures. “You have way too much faith in me.”
“If you don’t quit with the self-deprecation, I’m gonna duct tape your mouth shut,” MJ interjects.
“But, Daddy, how will I say my safe word?” you tease, giggling at your own joke with the rest of the group. Yukio’s laugh seems the loudest. Ellie glares.
“We should practice a song!” Ned suggests.
“Ooh, a private show!” Liz seems excited.
“Any requests?” you ask her. Ellie’s resting scowl intensifies. If she’s more pissed off the more you open your mouth, you’re not sure how she’s gonna survive a night of you singing without going nuclear.
“Oh, oh, Girlfriend by Avril Lavigne, please?”
“You’ve got it,” you agree.
The song goes smoothly.
“What happened to the old singer?” Ellie asks, clearly unimpressed.
“You didn’t tell her?” you ask Yukio, grateful for the excuse to turn away from the sharp-tongued girl you adore.
“Didn’t want her to get the wrong impression,” Yukio explains. “She already makes enough rude comments towards you.” Yukio leans over her drum kit to give Ellie a pointed look.
“Oh, wait, shit, I didn’t mean it like that. You, uh, sound good, Y/N.”
You can’t help but whip your head back to look at her with a flabbergasted expression.
“What?! It’s true,” Ellie defends herself.
“Uh, yeah, but you just said something nice. About me. Liz, do you mind checking her for a fever?”
Liz obliges for the sake of going along with the joke before quickly withdrawing her hand.
“Jeez! I know you were kidding, but she’s burning up,” Liz declares.
“My internal temperature is higher due to my mutation,” Ellie quickly explains, looking a bit bashful. “Besides, I say nice shit about Y/N all the time.”
“No, you don’t,” the whole band says in unison, including you.
“Well, clearly I shouldn’t if everyone’s gonna make a big fucking deal about it,” she retorts, rolling her eyes. “I’m gonna go get some pictures of the decorations before there’s a bunch of fucking people here to block them.”
She stomps off in her heavy boots, and The Pangolins get back to work, putting on the final touches and making sure all the blocking looks right.
Soon enough, guests start flooding in, and Liz zips around to greet them, eventually meeting up with Peter and keeping him with her. He and Liz eventually pull Ellie away from her picture-taking, confident she’s done enough and needs to just relax and enjoy the party.
So much for distracting herself with work, she thinks.
They sit on the couch and eat, the dining room was monopolized by The Pangolins due to its elevation and space.
Ellie’s mesmerized by the way your fingers move until she hears Peter talking to Liz. They really are a cute couple.
“You really do need to hang out with us. Yukio told me Y/N thinks Ellie and I are a thing,” he says.
“Gross, you’re like my annoying little brother,” Ellie remarks.
“And you’re like my bitchy older sister,” Peter retorts with a shit-eating grin.
“Both of you, quiet! They’re about to play the new song. You’re in for a real treat, Ellie.”
“What does it have to do with me?”
Liz gives Peter a confused and slightly irritated look.
“I haven’t said anything to her, I didn’t know how,” Peter squeaks, blushing a little at the look in his girlfriend’s eyes.
“Explain, quickly,” Ellie demands.
But, then you start to sing again.
“Y/N-” Peter starts.
“Shut up.”
“But you asked-”
“I said, shut up,” Ellie insists.
“You know me as your boyfriend's goofy friend. I seem to have this effect on women, and your friends aren't as goofy as I am. I try my best to keep you entertained, always laughing at the jokes you are saying. I nod my head when you make a point, oh oh…
“Kiss me, kiss me with your eyes closed! Whisper that your heart shows all I want is you, yeah, you… Hold me, hold me I'm your bunny! Tell me I'm not funny, tell me I’m legit! ‘Cause I feel weak, in your hands and your feet… A precious end, I’ll never feel your touch…”
Ellie continues to listen to the song, all expression drained from her face. All the yearning in the words and your voice, all you want is…
Ellie looks at Peter, who’s looking at her with a triumphant smile.
“I told you.”
Ellie feels like she’s about to faint. She notices you’re talking to Liz— when did she leave? —your hand over your mic. Despite the knowledge that Liz is taken, Ellie gets jealous. You look so happy to be talking to Liz, to just about any girl you talk to.
She wishes you’d smile at her that way.
You nod at whatever Liz said, and the band starts packing away their instruments. Liz sets up her phone on some Bluetooth speakers, and songs that sounded so much better when you were singing them start to play.
No! Ellie internally protests. Sing for me again, please, sing that stupid song about how you think I don’t like you.
Yukio’s dragging you somewhere. Gosh, Ellie wishes it was her holding your hand.
Suddenly, though, you and Yukio are approaching her. She knows what she has to do.
“So, what’d you think of our- Eek! Finally!”
Ellie parts from the kiss to tell her to fuck off and not ruin the moment before kissing you again.
“Holy fucking shit,” you breathe. “Uh, I thought you were-“
“Dating Peter?! Seriously?! Do I need to write ‘dyke’ on my fucking forehead? I practically already have with the way I dress and act and-”
“I, uh, I try not to make assumptions,” you mumble, fingers touching your lips.
“I’m, uh, sorry for not asking.”
“No, it’s- It was good. I’ve wanted you to do that for a while. It’s just that that was the first time somebody’s kissed me, since, uh…” Your eyes dart to Yukio, who’s ruffling Ned’s hair and laughing.
“Yukio?!” Orange flickers in Ellie’s eyes for a moment, but she keeps it under control.
“No, no, of course not, uh… The old singer, Lola. She and Yukio were dating, but apparently I was the one she really had her sights on, and… She was entitled. Thought that because she wanted me, I must want her. That wasn’t really the case, I was already pining over you. Didn’t stop her from forcing a few kisses on me and trying to go further. If Yukio hadn't shown up early with cupcakes, I don’t know what would’ve happened.”
“I am such an asshole,” Ellie says softly. “Can I kiss you again? The right way.”
“I’d say what you did before was pretty right, but sure,” you consent.
Her kiss before had been rough, needy, and impatient. Just the way you like it. This, though, this is gentle, soft, and exploratory. You tangle your hands in her hair and kiss her harder. She moans into the kiss before pulling away, bewildered.
“That was…” Ellie trails off, trying to find a positive adjective that won’t sound to frilly or lovesick.
“A mistake, wasn’t it?”
“Oh, fuck, no. I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” she corrects you. “Just- Didn’t really know how. Even when you were kinda flirting with me at first, I just thought you were messing with me, so I- I am so stupid.”
“So am I,” you scoff. “I thought you were dating Peter.”
“I was spending a lot of time with him, but… I was just using him as an excuse to avoid you so I wouldn’t embarrass myself anymore. And I was asking him for advice. I figured if he could land somebody as far out of his league as Liz, maybe I stood the slightest bit of a chance with you. But I kept fucking it up. I’d just get so nervous, all of my compliments would turn into insults, all of my teasing turned into straight-up cruelty. I don’t know how you actually like me.”
“I’m a little bit of a masochist, I’ll admit,” you tell her. “I’m really glad you don’t hate me.”
“I’m really glad you don’t hate me,” Ellie replies, but she can’t help but think that what she‘s really saying is ‘I love you, too.’
She takes your hand, and you two rejoin your friends, swept up in a group hug. They wanted this to happen almost as much as you two did.
#negasonic teenage warhead#ellie phimister#x-men#negasonic teenage warhead imagine#ellie phimister imagine#x-men imagine#negasonic teenage warhead x reader#ellie phimister x reader#x-men x reader#wlw x reader#sapphic x reader#wlw imagine#sapphic imagine#lesbian x reader#lesbian imagine#songfic
131 notes
·
View notes
Text
11x02: Acheron, Part 2 - Analysis
Okay, let’s talk 11x02. And 11x01. Because it’s a two-part episode, it’s important to consider them together. I have a LOT to say about what’s going on in these two episodes, so I’ll have plenty to post all week. Let’s dive in!
***As always, spoilers abound below for TWD 11x02. Don’t read until you’ve watched! You’ve been warned!***
Maggie
The first thing we see is a point of view from under the train car. The instant I saw that, I knew how things would go. I never thought Maggie would die (if nothing else, there are scenes with her in the trailer we haven’t seen yet) but I was curious as to how she would survive. When I saw this POV, I knew she’d end up crawling under the train. Just as Glenn crawled under the dumpster. Massive parallels to Glenn. Which by extension, massive parallels to Beth. Major resurrection theme.
It's also important that when she reappears, she comes from underneath the car. Obviously, that’s logical given that she crawled underneath the car, but they make a point of asking if the pounding is coming from the roof. Gabriel says no and then they open the bottom hatch for her. Her coming up from the ground like that is a visual representation of a resurrection.
So we see Gabriel, Negan and the others enter the train car. The spatial details here are important, and I had to watch the episode twice to get them all straight. It’s a little confusing the first time. So, the group jumps down into the train car through a hatch in the roof because they couldn’t get the door open in the last episode. The thing is, if you watch closely, you come to realize they’re not in the train car on the end. They must have walked along the roof for two or three cars before finding a hatch that let them in.
So, when Gauge shows up, he comes behind them, and that confused me because I was thinking they came from that direction. And they did, but they entered through the roof, not the door. Anyway, they can’t get the door open. So honestly, even if they’d tried harder, I’m not sure they could have saved him.
This scene accomplished a lot of things, character-wise, that we need to touch on. It’s important to note that Gauge’s death happened due to his own choices. Does that mean he “deserved” to die or that they shouldn’t have tried to save him if they could have? Of course not. No on both counts. But that doesn’t change the fact that his choices sealed his fate.
It's especially interesting that he called Maggie a Liar. Not only is that a throwback to the Governor, but it’s a particular type of mentality they’re showing here. Even the fact that he didn’t shut the door behind him is really interesting. My first thought was to be annoyed with him. Why WOULDN’T you shut the door. You live in this world. You know better. But it’s all ego. He can’t imagine something bad will happen. He just assumes if it does, someone will save him.
But the most telling thing was how angry he got before saying Liar. It just shows very much how he approaches life. When he messes up, he doesn’t feel bad, and accept that it was his fault, and try to learn from it. No, instead he gets pissed and blames everyone but himself and his own actions.
If this had been Daryl or Gabriel or Alden or any of our other heroes, they would have recognized that opening the door would have gotten their friends and family killed and would have sacrificed themselves. Especially if they realized they’d screwed up. But Gauge became angry and defiant, even killing himself.
Anyway, I’m rambling. This really has nothing to do with Beth or TD other than perhaps being a future template for something. But I thought it was a really fascinating character sketch.
The thing is, this isn’t really a matter of Gauge being wrong and everyone else being right.
Maggie is…not doing so well either. As I told my fellow theorists, Paola Lazaro said in TTD last week that Maggie was kind of off the rails. I think she said that a little prematurely, because we really didn’t understand Maggie’s state of mind just by watching 10x17 and 11x01.
It's not until she tells that messed up story about the house she found and the people in it that we understand that her state of mind really isn’t at its healthiest. Even saying she wanted to kill Negan before is…understandable given their past. But it makes more sense now why Negan is so nervous. He’s sensing her state of mind that her moral conscience isn’t as strong as it once was, so of course he’s fearful for his life.
I don’t know where they’re going with this Maggie story line, but I have a feeling this attitude of hers will cause conflict down the road. Several of my fellow theorists believe it will cause a rift between her and Daryl. And we can see that somewhat through Alden. At first, he was very much defending Maggie, especially against Negan. He has a lot of loyalty to her. But he didn’t like her abandoning Gauge, and you can see his loyalties starting to waver.
At the very least, what she said about not feeling anything about it is the opposite of what Beth always stood for. Daryl was trying hard not to feel things during Still, in the wake of the prison going down. She made him feel things because that’s the only way a person is truly living, rather than just surviving. Now Maggie is in that state of mind.
And I’m gonna argue that makes it a prime time for Beth to return to help her. But of course I’m completely objective over here. ;D
Maggie’s Story:
Maggie’s story was definitely dark and horrible, but interesting to analyze. I’m assuming there was cannibalism going on there. That’s why the missing limbs. The men in the house were eating the female prisoners. No only a callback to Terminus, but remember that Bob’s leg was taken for food, so I’m sure that’s what we’re supposed to infer here.
She talked about no eyes, no tongue, no limbs, vocal cords ripped out. So definitely the see no evil, speak no evil themes. With the limbs, it’s also a matter of not being able to escape or save themselves.
In terms of the plot, I do have one question about this that I think may be significant. Maggie first talks about three deformed people (she says, “I wouldn’t call them men”) coming toward her. She kills them, and only after that hears the noise from the attic.
My question is, why were they deformed? If they’re “men,” then they must be at least Maggie’s age, if not older, which means they’ve been around since before the apocalypse began. Even eating human flesh doesn’t cause one to become deformed, so why the deformities? I have no idea, but I wondered if there is a radiation theme going on here. Something they’re hinting at, but not saying. Just thought that was intriguing.
After that, things go sideways and everyone almost dies until Daryl arrives to save the day. So, let’s skip to his story.
Daryl:
We first see him bust through a wall with Dog. So, dog took off in the last episode, but the first time we see Daryl, he’s already found Dog again. At least, the first time. This is where he sees the murals on the wall, the walker with the handcuff and the suitcase of money, etc. I already talked about most of that in great detail HERE, so I won’t rehash it, though it’s very important.
One thing I will say about the mural is that thematically, it’s a match to Still. So, in the golf club, we had lots of rich people who clearly hid there when the world first went bad. And I don’t remember this particularly, but several of my fellow theorists have told me they remember the TTD after Still and that the writers talked about how the golf club was a statement about the class system. You have these very rich people, but their wealth couldn’t save them. Death, walkers, the apocalypse…none of these things discriminate based on wealth or position.
On the wall, we see people with crowns standing at the top, but below, they are homeless, and one of them is being attacked and torn apart. Meanwhile, Daryl sees a line of text that says, “it comes for us all,” probably meaning death.
Well, guess what? Angela Kang, in talking about the murals, said that this, too, was a statement about the class system. So thematically, this is meant to be a parallel to Still.
It’s just interesting to contemplate because if you think about it, most of our heros—Rick, Daryl, the Greene family, etc—weren’t at all wealthy. Rick was humble and well-grounded. Hershel worked hard his whole life and never had any glory or fanfare. And then there’s Daryl, who was “nothing. No one.” They all survived.
So of course it’s a socioeconomic statement, but it’s also one about mindset. It takes not only grit to survive this world, but a certain amount of humility. Ego always gets you killed eventually, as it did with Gauge.
I’ll also mention that I thought the guy with the crown who was being torn apart was being set upon by walkers, but AK says they’re specifically not walkers. They’re people.
So, it’s not a coincidence that we see this juxtaposed with the Gauge situation. His ego gets him killed and we literally see him being torn apart because of it.
Moving on.
Daryl finds a bag with a $100 bill with a letter written on it. This is a massive TD clue from start to finish. 100 is an important number. The hundred dollar bill features Benjamin Franklin on the front and Independence Hall on the back. Look either of those up and you’ll find lots of fun parallels we could point to. I won’t go into all that today except to say it’s definitely part of the Revolution theme.
This is what’s written on the bill Daryl finds:
“Dear Dad, you always said if you don’t come back in a week to move on. Mom didn’t listen and went looking. It’s been three weeks, so we’re going next. I’ll watch Jesse and turn on the radio every day at 10. See you both soon. Love Tom and Jesse.”
He also finds a picture of two kids. So, the “three weeks” jumps out because of Rick’s line in 5x10, “it’s been three weeks since Atlanta.” It’s also about missing family members, going searching for them, etc. Possibly important that the mom is also missing. I can’t help but think of the song from Still. “Our mother has been absent, every since we founded Rome…”
There is a 10 in there, which is an important number. The turning the radio on every day is both the radio/airwaves theme (also a line from the song) but a callback to Rick and Morgan and their walkie talkies. So, really interesting symbols here.
The two kids immediately reminded me of Noah’s twin brothers. I don’t think these two are supposed to be twins. I’m assuming the brother is older. But still obviously siblings. And it hearkens back to the last episode Beth was technically in. Which also had a lot of the CRM/Revolution theme in it. (X, X).
AK says this family probably didn’t make it, so I’m not expecting these kids to show up in the narrative. But it’s also important to note that the little girl is carrying the toy rabbit Maggie found earlier. So the rabbit also ties into all this symbolism. (P.S. I didn’t get to my rabbit post last week. I planned on it, but time got away from me. I should get it posted later this week.)
So, this is massive in terms of TD symbolism. I’ll talk about it fits into the bigger narrative in a minute.
Then Daryl kills the sleeping bag walker. I wasn’t sure the significance of this at first, but I think it ties to the tents and sleeping bags we saw in Atlanta in 5x06, Consumed. Daryl and Carol passed them while looking for Beth. So, this just shows us that this is tied to her storyline and Daryl searching for her.
You could also argue that the walker was “hidden” at first, and it’s significant that Dog found it/realized it was there before Daryl did.
The other thing is that as he’s looking at the sleeping bag walker, there’s a random shoe on the ground next to it. Missing Shoe/Foot theory, which is also indicative of Beth.
They hear another roaring sound and Dog takes off, running into the dark tunnel.
Here’s the thing. I think most people will assume the roar he heard was just more air being forced through the tunnels by the storm, as Alden explained it in ep 1. But I always watch with the subtitles on and I noticed at this part, the subtitles said, “Man Roaring.” So they actually did hear someone screaming. And that’s probably why Dog ran toward it.
After watching it again, I realized it’s probably supposed to be Roy. He’s the white-haired guy, played by C. Thomas Howell, who Daryl finds wounded after he emerges from the Tunnel. I think whatever happened to him when he went topside but then got attacked by walkers is what Dog heard and went running toward.
Maybe not terribly significant in the plot, but it’s important symbolically. Because once again we have something Daryl hears from a distance but doesn’t see. Dog (a proxy for Beth) runs toward it, and Daryl follows. When he does, he find someone who had previously separated from the group. They’re hurt, but alive. See the parallels?
I will say the Roy situation confuses me just a little. He’s clearly hurt, and when Daryl tries to bandage him, he refuses, saying, “just tell my kids I didn’t die a coward.” But then later he’s with the group, all bandaged up, and seems to be okay. (He dies when they reach the Reapers by taking an arrow to the head, so he still dies overall.) But it’s just weird that it seemed he would die, then seemed he was fine again.
It may well be something that foreshadows a future situation, and that’s why it’s not making tons of sense right now. Only time will tell.
Anyway, I kind of glossed over Daryl crawling through the dark tunnel. I don’t have much else to say about it except that it’s a SUPER potent symbol for Beth’s arc and very important that he emerges on the other side and finds this person. Annnd then goes to save TF. (Dark Tunnel Symbolism).
So, he hears the gunshots and finds the train they’re on. He comes up behind the walkers attacking them from the front, kills them, moves the bench blocking the door, and lets everyone through. Then he uses a grenade to blow up all the walkers. (Ew.)
After that they all get out of the tunnels and go topside. The next scene is also super important. We see the stars above. That’s partly to show that the storm has passed now, but also constellations = Sirius.
Maggie asks what he has and he tells her about it. There is one weird moment in this scene. When she tells them about the supply depot she wants to stop at, she says Georgie (from S8) set it up for emergencies, for people on the outside to use. When it says this, the camera focuses on Daryl for a LONG moment, and he looks almost sad. I’m not sure what they’re trying to tell us there.
Anyway, they all head out. Unfortunately, when they reach the right neighborhood, the Reapers are there to meet/kill them. And Roy is the first to go.
So, a couple of things here. I’ll probably do a details post because I’m leaving out MOST of the background details throughout the episode, and there are a lot of them. Lots of details to be gleaned in this scene.
But the second time I watched it, I was struck by the people hanging upside down. Obviously a grim sight, but it occurred to me that these people hanging this way look a LOT like the deer diagrams from Scars. Let me show you some pictures:
Top pick is 11x02. Middle and bottom one are from Scars.
See what I mean? So, chances are something about Scars foreshadowed the Reapers, which is interesting. They clearly see human beings in a certain way (as animals to be strung up and…perhaps eaten?) And that makes me think that what Maggie found in that house may tie into the Reapers as well. Just kind of interesting foreshadows of coming plots.
Eugene:
Let’s talk Eugene and then I’ll shut up for today. Eugene’s stuff was very intriguing. First thing you need to know. And understand, I didn’t know this. @wdway pointed it out. Some months ago, the actress cast as “Stephanie” was announced. This is her:
And that’s clearly not the woman who steps into the train car at the end. Which means this isn’t really Stephanie. She’s a decoy. In fact, the actress from this episode is billed on IMDb as “woman 2,” not as “Stephanie.”
Knowing that, if you go back and re-watch the parts with Eugene’s group, they mean something very different.
On the surface, it seems that Zeke, Yumiko and Princess are taken away in a sinister fashion. Then Eugene melts down and tells his story. (Note: while he focuses on his feelings for Stephanie and I think most of that is true, he still says he lied both to her and to his friends about being from a large settlement. So, he’s still keeping large chunks of the truth from them.)
Again, on the surface it seems that they accept his explanation and just decide to allow them all in. All the stuff with the other three is just a misunderstanding.
But if “Stephanie” is a decoy, that can’t possibly be the case. I think Zeke and the others told Eugene the truth as they know it, but they’re all still being manipulated.
After Princess left to pee, the guy told Eugene no one was in the room and acted like he had no idea who Princess was. They were definitely using psychological torture on him, trying to break him.
I think they know very well that Eugene's group is still lying about their settlement, and they're using a decoy "Stephanie" to find out the truth.
My point is that it goes back to the hallucination, making-someone-think-they're-crazy theme. It will be really interesting to see how this unfolds, because there's all kinds of psychological shenanigans going on here.
@galadrieljones made a really interesting connection some time ago. She noticed that back in 10x18, at Leah’s cabin, there is a metal, heart-shaped chair. The same chairs show up in the Commonwealth’s sales video from the trailer. So there’s some kind of link between Leah, Daryl’s memory of her, and the Commonwealth. We don’t know what it is yet, but all of this gives credence to the idea that she is either an outright hallucination, or Daryl is just remembering things wrong.
It also might mean that the Reapers are connected to the Commonwealth in some way. We don’t really know yet, but I’m having tons of fun trying to figure it out.
I want to touch briefly on the train car theme. Once again, there’s a parallel in both story lines (Terminus, and this one at the Commonwealth). Daryl’s group is in train cars this episode. And while Eugene’s group has been at a different compound, they started in the train yard and end in it here. But what I noticed is that Eugene enters the train car at the end, which is furnished inside, and finds his friends there. They all have a happy reunion.
It made me think of the fact that when Rick, Daryl, Michonne, and Carl enter the train cars at Terminus, there is also a family reunion. What happened beyond that was not good or easy. Clearly, Terminus was not a good place. Many of them almost died at the trough and they had to fight their way out through a walker blood bath.
I’m just saying that, while it obviously won’t play out exactly the same way, something similar is probably waiting for Eugene’s group outside that train car. Not good.
Acheron Overall:
Okay, let’s get to the big cheese, here. The overall narrative. The template.
These two episodes are called Acheron part 1 and part 2. So here’s the skinny:
Acheron = Underworld. Daryl’s group going into the subway tunnels (dark, underground) is what constitutes Acheron and why the episodes are called that. That’s why, at the end of this episode, they emerge from the tunnels onto the surface (i.e. the living world).
Given all the death, cemetery, and dark tunnel symbolism around Beth, given that she ventured into the land of the dead by being shot, maybe clinically dying for a time, and being thought dead for so long, what this tells me is that everything that happens in these tunnels is a foreshadow and template for what will happen this season.
I maintain that Dog = Beth and we will soon see something where Daryl hears something (not necessarily her; it was a man screaming so I still think it will be Rick he hears word of) and goes chasing after it. While searching for it, he stumbles across Beth. Then the two of them (both Dog and Daryl returned to the train car) go back in time to save TF from something.
This is most likely why the Roy thing is weird. In a super understated way, he represents Rick in the template. Daryl will find him, but only after he finds Beth. Even consider what Roy says. He says, “tell my kids I didn’t die a coward.” And that’s all well and good, but did we even know Roy had kids? No. Have we met them? No. But who has kids that Daryl IS concerned with? That would be Rick.
So I’m thinking that maybe when Daryl finds Rick, Rick will think he’s dying for some reason, and that’s why the dialogue here. But he won’t, which is why we see Roy with the group later.
And no, I’m not thinking that Roy dying via the Reapers will extend to Rick. It’s more like what they’ve done with countless characters that have been Beth proxies. Eventually, they kill them off. He’s a minor character they were using as a proxy, and when they are done with him in the narrative, he becomes walker chow. Or, in this case, Reaper fodder.
Anyway, I think everything will end up being a foreshadow for something. Maggie and Negan. The Gauge situation. All of it. I’ll try to keep coming back to this as the story progresses to show what everything foreshadows. I’ll stop there for today.
#beth greene#beth greene lives#beth is alive#beth is coming#td theory#td theories#team delusional#team defiance#beth is almost here#bethyl
23 notes
·
View notes
Text
tozier • beverly marsh
(beverly marsh x reader smut)
part two of this series! <3
requested: okay so once regular requests open, here's my idea. so the reader and richie are siblings and they absolutely hate each other and to get under his sisters skin, he fucks her best friend. so in sheer anger she decides to fuck all of his
warnings: swearing, smut, mentions of recreational drug use, oral sex (fem receiving), woooo thats it i think, unedited as usual!
[losers and reader are 20+ in this.]
2.6k words
♡
you sigh as you slam your pillow over your head, once again trying to drown out the noise of the group of howling, feral 20 year olds in the room next to yours.
it's not even extremely late - it's only midnight, but you were up all day doing chores around the house and you got kept up late last night by richie, yelling as loud as he could at his pc while he drank enough monster energy's to power a small boat. you groan.
you are (shockingly!) still very pissed at richie. you haven’t said barely any words to him, no matter how many times you’ve wanted to scream i fucked your best friend!
you want him to feel exactly how you feel, because now you don’t even have your best friend to talk to about it. you sigh, flipping around.
slowly, you rise from your bed and stalk into the hall, sighing as you hear stan uris through the door mutter something along the lines of fucking a girl in the shower. you try not to turn red as you take a moment to imagine that situation.... with him... you shake your head. he's probably talking some big game, anyways.
you push open the door, remembering what you'd gotten up for as you walk into richie's room, wrinkling your nose at the smell of weed. all the occupants look up, making your stomach tingle at the attention. you make eye contact with your brother.
"can you and your friends be a bit quieter?" you ask, knowing you sound like a brat but too annoyed to really care. richie scoffs, "this is my room." is all he adds and you roll your eyes. stan snorts from the corner and you throw a half hearted glare to him, which he returns with a half-smirk and a lifted brow. your stomach flips.
you ignore the burning in your face as you realize all six of richie's hot friends are staring at you, and you grumble. "we have a basement and a living room for a reason. bedrooms are for sleeping." you say and then you catch ben's eye and immediately turn red at his look and the words you'd used.
right.... you hadn't ever mentioned the other night with ben since it'd happened - he seemed perfectly content to just move on. still, you keep finding your mind slipping back to it and how good it felt to get back at richie while having a great time simultaneously.
“you’re such a prude, aren’t you?” richie mutters. you snap your head to him, narrowing your eyes. “what’s that supposed to mean, asshole?” you spit.
richie smirks, lifting a brow. “you need to live a little, sis. just get laid or something.”
in the corner of the room, ben huffs a short laugh.
you can’t even look at him, trying to hide your smirk as you open your mouth, about to drop the bomb that you actually did get laid the other night, as a matter of fact -
“l-lay off her, r-rich. i’m sure y/n do-does just f-fine.” bill says, a smirk on his face as he winks at you. you feel like you might pass out from his words, your face heating up.
“what the fuck do you mean, denbrough?” richie then spits to bill, who smirks at you and then richie.
“-he’s saying that y/n definitely gets way more than you do, trashmouth.” stan pipes up, and your chest may just fucking implode. you gape at stan, who just grins to himself and nods to richie, who’s fuming. you smile to yourself, your chest warm and fuzzy at his look.
“they’re right, rich. i mean, have you seen her?” bev says, making you smirk, heart beating faster than you ever thought possible. you can’t believe the words falling from richie’s friend’s mouths - even if they’re just trying to piss richie off, you’re still flattered.
“guys.” mike says, but he’s grinning and he shrugs with a wink when you make eye contact.
richie looks like he could punch a hole through the wall above stan’s head. “shut the fuck up, you assholes. my best friends are not fucking allowed near my sister.” he hisses, face red in anger.
“well isn’t that ironic.” you spit, glaring at him as you cross your arms. bev smirks as she looks at you and mike snorts into his hand in the silence.
"god. can you just fucking piss off, y/n?" is all richie says, but then after second thought rises to his feet, "actually, i've got somewhere to be."
a little put off by his change in attitude, but more relieved for richie to be out of your hair, you grin. "finally."
his friends all start to gather their things and you deflate a little at the thought of not being able to waltz around your house with tons of eye candy lingering at every corner, but at least richie will also be gone.
"get fucked, richie." you say as a farewell, turning to leave when beverly marsh speaks up from where she lays across bill's legs smugly.
"hey y/n, can i borrow a hair tie?" she asks, making your face turn pink as you look at her. you nod though, turning to walk to the bathroom in search of an elastic. she follows, shutting the door on her way out and pulling up her jeans a bit, making you swallow as you see a sliver of her stomach.
you'd always thought she was hot - out of richie's friends, certainly one of the most well-rounded and tolerable, right up there with bill and stan. bev makes you nervous in a way that excites you and it's always been that way, since you first met her a few years ago.
she's humming a song you're not familiar with as she hops onto the counter, the sound of the front door shutting downstairs leaving you in relative silence.
why does she make you so nervous?
you rummage through the pull-out drawer and try not to stare at her figure in the mirror as you look up briefly. "y/n?" she asks and you look up at her in question.
"yeah, bev?" you ask, sounding breathless. you curse yourself silently as she smirks.
"i don't really need one." she says, making you look up and raise a brow. "really?" you ask, smiling at her as she grins at you, nodding and chuckling as she leans her head against the mirror. "i just wanted to get away from them. they're such assholes, sometimes. i like girls much more, anyways." she says and you almost choke as she winks at you.
your mind flashes, at that moment, to the hickey that'd been sprawled over cecily's neck at the pool the other day and you see red for a moment. then, your mind wanders to how it'd feel to have hickies like those pressed all over your own neck, from someone like bev. you clench your thighs and curse yourself, knowing bev was flirty but she probably wasn't actually interested. you're richie's sister, after all.
"don't you?" she asks, continuing your thought, and it makes you grin - maybe she did like you like that after all. you smile at bev, "we just get each other, don't we?" you say flirtily, leaning against the sink with your hands on either side of her thighs. you're unsure where this confidence comes from, but you think it has something to do with the way bev is staring at you.
her eyes glow with a challenge at your words and she boldly places a hand on your neck. she hums out, "exactly."
you're feeling confident as ever as you lean forward, clashing your lips against bev's harshly. she meets your lips with a fire and passion you barely knew existed and it takes you back as she pulls you close, legs wrapping around your waist.
her tongue is warm as it slides against your lips, making you groan into her mouth. you smell orange shampoo on her and a sweet perfume that engulfs you as she slides against you so you're both standing, your hand on her neck and waist and hers sliding down to grip your ass. you whimper lightly and she grins against your lips, mouth leaving yours to suck along the column of your throat. "bev..." you mutter, pulling her flush against you as her feet hit the ground and she suddenly slams you lightly against the wall. you gasp and her hands slowly move to palm your breasts.
you whimper as you tug on her shirt and she pulls away with glossy lips and a grin to pull her shirt over her head. you bite back a groan as your eyes scan her body, chest heaving as she watches you, a black lace bra contrasting against her soft skin and freckles.
you pull her back against you and her lips meet yours with fire, making you weak at the knees.
"you know, they're all gone." she whispers against your lips and you whimper as you feel her fingers dance across the apex of your thighs, slowly rubbing your clit over your clothes. "we're all alone."
her words send shivers down your spine.
you slowly pinch her nipple through the lace of her bra and she lets a small moan that makes you wetter than you already are and you bite your lip as she sinks to her knees.
you run your hand through her fiery hair, gazing at her with need as she smirks up at you and presses kisses to your stomach. “god, bev. please.” you say quietly.
she kisses your clit softly and you have to scrunch your eyes closed in order to not buck your hips in pleasure.
the way she slides your underwear down your legs, kissing the skin as she goes gives you goosebumps and you have to grip the towel hanging next to you because you can feel her breath on your aching heat. "fuck." you say quietly, eyes screwed shut out of desperation.
bev lets out a small hum, one hand falling to your thigh to steady you as she licks a bold stripe up your heat suddenly.
you let out a loud whimper, eyes opening and catching the sight of your reflection in the bathroom mirror - you're braced against the wall, bev on her knees in front of you as her tongue works slow figure eights on your clit, making your stomach clench and your toes curl.
her tongue makes you clench and she holds your legs open with her hand, moaning lightly as you tug on her hair.
and then she slips a finger inside you, sliding easily into your heat and pumping fluidly, making your legs turn to jelly.
she looks up at you suddenly through her thick lashes and grins as she presses a kiss to your swollen clit, slipping another finger inside you and moving with enough fervor to make you see stars. “does that feel good, babe?” she mutters lowly, making you melt and moan.
"bev, oh my god." you say quietly, hand falling into her red strands and carding through the curls, tugging as her tongue returns to rub tight circles on your clit.
you're a whimpering mess, bucking your hips and gasping, trying to chase that pleasure building up in your body as bev's hands pin your hips back against the wall.
your head falls back against it with a thud and you can't stop moaning her name, her tongue and fingers making you forget your own name. she pumps into you perfectly, hitting your spot perfectly as you whimper helplessly, chasing your high.
"please, bev." you mutter desperately, your hips bucking and she suddenly pulls away from you, her lips glistening as she stares up at you, fingers stopping.
"already that close, y/n?" her voice is teasing, mischievous and alluring and it makes you whimper again. you grow red as you look away, nodding shyly. she tuts, pressing a small kiss to your clit.
“someone needs to take better care of you.” she says lowly to herself, making your stomach erupt in butterflies. she flatters her tongue against you, swirling it and flicking against your clit as you let out another moan. “i’m so close, please.” you plead. her fingers slip into you again and you clench up again, her fingers hitting the perfect spot in you and you moan her name.
you hit your high as you stare at her between your thighs, eye lashes kissing her cheeks as her tongue flattens and she laps up your juices, moaning quietly. you grow weak and her hand stabilizes you up as you ride out your high, clenching so tight around her that her hand stops.
as she pulls away, she kisses your overstimulated clit and it makes you jump a bit.
“fuck, that was so hot.” she says with a grin, kissing your stomach gently. you sniff lightly with a sheepish smile. "do you - you want to stay the night?" you ask, out of breath. she stands to her full height and grins at you, eyes bright and glowing with mischief, "hell yeah, babe."
when richie comes home the next morning, he’s startled to see his best friend beverly in his kitchen. "hey, what're you doing here, bevvie?" richie says, yawning into his hand and walking over to grab a slice of bacon from the plate next to the stove.
beverly swats his hand before he can grab it and turns to him as she flips a pancake. "hands off, tozier. these are for your sister."
he lifts a brow, grabbing a cup to fill it with grapefruit juice as he shakes his head. "very funny. why are you here, though? for real."
beverly ignores his question. "where were you?" she answers with instead, which the tall boy regards with only passing suspicion. "i saw cecily last night." richie says into the rim of his cup casually, making bev gape at him.
he's got the largest hickeys blossoming on his neck and a trail that goes downward, towards his shirt collar. bev rolls her eyes, “you’re a dick, richie.” she says.
richie shrugs, looking at her with a grin. “y/n doesn’t care, she was just messing around about being mad.”
“don’t think she was messing around when she rocked your shit the other day. that bruise just faded on your cheek.” bev states with a pointed brow.
"well then we just don't tell y/n." he smiles with a wolfish grin and beverly rolls her eyes, her lips curving into a secretive smirk that richie barely picks up on. “so any reason why you decided to make breakfast in my kitchen?” he asks.
bev grins, “oh, right. i fucked your sister last night. i figured it’d be nice if i made her breakfast for when she wakes up since i have to leave.”
it’s silent as richie stares at her for a few moments and bev relishes in the feeling of finally shutting richie up for once.
but the moment is over too soon as richie raises his brows, chuckling. “you’re fuckin’ weird, marsh.” he says.
beverly almost laughs at his oblivious stupidity. he doesn’t actually believe it? fine, she’ll let y/n have the pleasure of telling him eventually. revenge tastes good no matter if he knows or not.
bev scribbles a note that says, “y/n ;)” and turns off the stove.
“give your sister a kiss for me, kay tozier?” she asks with a wink, kissing richie’s cheek after she takes off maggie’s apron and puts the note next to the plate of pancakes and bacon.
richie watches her leave with furrowed brows, still oblivious.
tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier @simplesammyx @brxken-heartsclub @clownsloveyou @baby-yoda-a @moon-shine-baby @daughter-of-the-stars11 @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @finnskindofwoman @kait-tozier @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @leighjaenikhowell @cowbellies @deepestofwaters
#beverly marsh x reader#beverly marsh smut#losers x reader#losers club x reader#richie tozier x reader#stanley uris x reader#bill denbrough x reader#ben hanscom x reader#mike hanlon x reader#eddie kaspbrak x reader
502 notes
·
View notes
Text
Butterflies
Benimaru Shinmon x Reader
(Part 2/?)
A/N: I should’ve made this a long time ago but writer’s block keeps on dragging me. And I became busy when I’m taking care of my comics.
While making this, I think Y/N has a split personality... The kind and matured one you saw in part 1 and her savage(?) inner thoughts
It was a clear day and you can hear people are drumming, the members of company seven were making fireworks and people are shouting.
"Tamaya!"
"Kagiya!"
You were watching the fireworks as you absentmindedly produce some butterflies to the sky, matching the beat of the sound. You were humming, waiting for Benimaru’s orders.
“Y/N-san” you heard someone called you, which made you squeak, and the butterflies that you made, pop. It was two girls from company 8 and... The toothed boy, whom Benimaru called as an ‘imperial pup’
Not a pup, but a...
“Yes?” you straightened yourself and smiled at them.
“We would like to help."
"I'm sorry, you are...?"
"Maki, Oze Maki. And this is Tamaki and Shinra" she smiled. "The rookies."
You nodded. "Then shall I lead you to where we should help?" the three of them nodded and followed your lead.
Benimaru was walking around the town, not minding the construction noises since it was normal for him. He saw the imperial's pup carrying a plank of wood.
"Oi"
He stopped, his toothed-smile never falters from his face.
"Please let Company 8 help!" he knew he would decline since it would disturb his turf. "With my ability, hauling stuff and elevated work will be no problem." he reasoned out and flew out.
He followed Shinra with his eyes, bored and then realize that there will be only one person who will let outsiders help.
"Waka-san" she greeted, with a smile. Her eyes were glowing since her butterflies are patrolling and keeping an eye on the Company 8.
He hummed as both of them walk in silence.
They stopped and Benimaru look at the scene once again.
"The Company 8 are doing a great job helping us you know." She said. "It's lively even though they are outsiders."
He hummed and again, began walking to their destination.
The bell, that is used for the alarm, rang.
"Today's work is done!"
"Today's work is done!"
You brought inside a basin of cold water.
"Konro-san, how is your back today?" you ask, as you put it beside Benimaru.
"You don't have to trouble yourself. Waka, Y/N..." Konro said, while kneeling on the tatami mat. "The youngsters have finally gotten a breather." Benimaru damp a cloth, twisting it to remove excess water and putting it to Konro's back. "Let us at least do this"
Konro flinched, making Y/N slightly move, ready to grab a first aid kid. "Does that hurt?" Benimaru asks.
"No, it's just cold" his reassuring smile never leaves his face.
A few seconds of silence, Benimaru spoke up. "You really... Should have been the one to become the captain, Konro."
"This is Company 7, where the rowdies come to live."
"Anyone who can't fight has no business being the captain." You said, looking at them and frowning. "Even if you can't fight physically, you have this" You said, pointing at your head. "But since this is Company 7's turf, I guess rowdiness is what's important"
"That's why you're Waka's right hand" Konro explained.
The twins opened the door, running towards Konro. "Konro! Waka! Y/N!"
"Oi, hold on" Shinra was behind both of the twins.
"What? What's going on?" Konro asks.
"This big bozo is chasing Hika and Hina, trying to capture us!"
"He's seriously screwed up!"
Both twins exclaimed, pointing at the imperial pup.
"I was just playing tag with you and you call me a bozo, you jerk?"
"Shinra-san, please don't call the kids jerk" you commented.
"I'm not showing off my flaming top for you anymore" Shinra stated.
"Flaming top?" you and Benimaru asks. The twins immediately went to you and both of them sat on your lap. They put your hand on top of their head and you caress their head.
"He shoots flames out of his feet and spins around wicked fast."
"It's so ridiculous!"
Your eyebrows twitching, imagining the boy circling, twirling upside down in his head, and the twins cheering him, shouting "Wey!" .
"It's breaking!" Shinra said, having enough of the twins' comments. "It's called break dancing! And it's not ridiculous, it's cool!"
You chuckled. "Shinra-san's childish side is showing" you said and the twins laughed.
Benimaru scoffed and smirked. "You're such a kid."
Shinra blushed in embarrasment.
"Sorry about this, Company 8." Konro stated. "Not only do we have you help with repairs, but now you're looking after the kids."
"We're not kids! We'll smoosh you, Konro!"
You chuckled. "You guys... Then what are you doing at my lap?" you asked. The twins latched their arms around your neck and pouted.
"We want to be with you! Is that wrong?"
"Yeah! Yeah! You're more fun than Waka and Konro."
"No, I don't mind hanging out with kids." Shinra said.
"Don't treat us like children!"
"Only Y/N can treat us like that!"
"We'll smoosh you Shinra!"
You saw how Shinra's face turned serious when he saw what state Konro was in. You stood up, carrying the twins.
"How about we watch Shinra's flaming top?" you asks. You look at Shinra, smiling. "Let's go"
Shinra closed the door behind him as he follows you outside.
-----------
The twins heard someone walking towards the door so they jumped, from you and walks/leaps towards Benimaru
"Waka!" they exclaimed
Shinra immediately straightened up and gave him a salute. "I'm sorry about before sir..."
"No problem without it."
"About Lieutenant Konro's body..."
"When a Thrid Generation exceeds the limit of his pyrokinesis, his body keeps incinerating if he keeps going and before long, is reduced to ash."
The thought of Konro being an ash makes your stomach churned.
"Tephrosis..." You said and Shinra looks at you. "Is this... Your first time seeing it?"
"We learned about it at the Training Academy, but this is my first time seeing it in person."
"At that time..."
You clenched your fists, remembering the events that happened before. You excused yourself because you can't handle it anymore and you wanted to puke.
"I need to talk to your Captain, where is he?"
"He actually asked me to come and get you, Captain Shinmon. He's across the street talking to Lieutenant Hinawa, sir."
---------------------------
Benimaru is walking towards his destination when he heard Company 8's captain's voice.
"That went well, right, Lieutenant?"
"Yes it did"
"We succeeded in turning that Kantaro guy into an infernal"
"Yes we did"
What?
"With her help, let's turn even more people in this town into Infernals"
He saw you with these two, you smiled sinister.
What are you talking about?
"Yes, let's do that"
"Let's drown this place in many Infernals." he heard you say. "Benimaru-san isn't suitable for being a captain in this Company. Let's use the Infernals and throw him down" you grinned.
He felt his heart throbbed. He felt rage and betrayed. You wouldn’t betray like him like that... Right? Or was your kind nature an act? That’s why you wanted them, the Company 8, enter into his turf so that your plan will be in motion. Oh... How he shouldn’t trusted all of you in the first place.
He suddenly unleashed his fiery anger and resulted explosions.
You heard the explosions, you began to summon the butterflies and run towards the explosion. Through your butterflies, you saw an angry Benimaru walking towards Captain Obi and Lieutenant Hinawa.
You run faster, hoping you could stop his anger. When you reached them, you saw how Benimaru burned his surroundings. You immediately run, in front of them, stopping the explosions.
The explosions were strong, so it threw you to the side. You were hoping that some of those explosions were made to be butterflies but it failed.
"We made him an Infernal? Captain Shinmon, what are you saying?" you heard Captain Obi asks.
"Don't play dumb! Your true intent is to turn this city upside down!" he looked at you and you flinched. This is the first time you saw him angry. "And you! You're planning to threw me out because I am unfit to be a Captain?!"
"What are you even saying?" You noticed that the sleeves of your kimono were burnt. You were hurt by his words. What the hell? You wanted to cry, but the lives of the Company 8 were at stake so, you bit your lower lip, preventing the tears to come out.
"You tricked us... I saw it with my own eyes"
"Both of you! Run away!" You exclaimed at the Company 8, but they won’t budge. "Waka-san! We won't trick you!" You said, standing up, producing more butterflies. "I didn't trick you" you said softly as butterflies flew at his way at a fast speed, trying to blow at some parts of his body to knock him out.
He made two balls of fire, aiming at you and the 2 outsiders. You immediately turn his balls of fire in a group of butterflies and Shinra, came as he kicked Benimaru.
"I don't know what you saw sir, but please take it easy!"
"What? Screw that! There's no reason to take it easy!"
"Waka-san! Please listen to us!"
"Evangelist my ass!" he gritted his teeth. "I saw your Captain and Lieutenant, with Y/N plotting how to turn this town's people into Infernals!"
"HUH?! Waka-san! What you're saying is absurd!" you shouted.
"You're mistaken!"
"I'll crush you all and string you up!"
Why does when everyone is angry their common sense have been thrown out of the window?
He surrounded himself again with some fire and you, turn it into butterflies.
"Waka! Whatever you saw it isn't us for fuck's sake!"
Shinra wanted to laugh at your sudden change in attitude. Tamaki and Maki are both confused at your language, and Arthur just laughed.
"Captain Obi, I don't think he's joking around." you said, "Please wait a minute Waka-san!"
"We don't want to fight you!"
"Then go ahead and defeat me. Prove to me what you really want!"
Waka-san, your common sense is now out of the window
"Right here, right now, prove yourselves! Prove your might makes you right! If you don't want to fight me, then prove it by fighting me!"
Waka-san are you an idiot?
"Bring it on Company 8! You're facing Benimaru Shinmon!"
The butterflies that have been formed earlier where flying everywhere, and through them, you saw a white-clad group.
"Waka-san! Please! Maybe what you saw was impostors!” you begged.
"Hinawa!"
"Leave it to me"
"Wait a minute!" You shouted, the twins cheered which it isn't helping. You can't help it anymore, tears started to fall down your cheeks.
"Hiding behind women and children? That's rotten"
"Stay back!" you heard Maki say, pushing you back as you wipe your tears, deflecting the fire.
"You think you can deflect that?" Benimaru asks. You pushed her away as he clenched his fist to gather all the fire and attacked you.
And the impact made you knock out.
"Maki-San! Y/N-san!" That's the last you heard as your body hit the ground.
91 notes
·
View notes
Text
Febuwhump day 28 - “You have to let me go”
Summary: Peter is no stranger to mourning. He'll do anything to keep his family safe.
Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29138196/chapters/73219281
Okay. My little love note/ramble will be at the end of this chapter, but I just wanted to say before you read this- thank you. So much. Sincerely. This has been quite the adventure. But like all adventures, they have their end.
I hope you like this one.
-----
Peter lands messily on the pavement, pain shooting spikes up his ankles and his heart beating a million miles a minute. Choosing to ignore the discomfort, he runs the rest of the way to where Rhodey, Natasha, and Steve are standing in a tense semi circle in front of an old warehouse.
He skids up beside them, barely breathing. “I- I came- agh. I came as soon as I heard.”
Steve places a strong hand on his shoulder to steady him and Peter can’t help but lean into the touch. They all stop what they’re doing to look at him and their eyes tell Peter enough for his stomach to plummet down to his toes.
Pity, guilt.
Fear.
“Where’s Tony?” he asks, his voice sounding far away to his own ears.
None of them answer, averting their eyes to the ground.
“Guys. Where is he?”
Rhodey looks torn. He looks from the ground to the warehouse, his mouth hanging open in indecision. “He’s in there. He’s okay.”
“For now,” Natasha says.
Peter nods, though his anxiety doesn’t lessen any. “Okay. Why haven’t you gotten him out yet? What’s the plan?”
He looks to Rhodey for his answer but the hero merely bites his lip. Sighing, Natasha interjects for him. “Tony’s cuffed to one of the center support columns. There’s a bomb strapped to the column beside him. The perimeter is rigged so that if crossed, the detonation time will shrink dramatically. It might even cause the bomb to go off immediately.”
Mouth dry, Peter tries his best to keep his breathing even. “How much time do we have?”
“Ten minutes.”
“Oh God,” Peter whispers. Steve’s hand on him tightens as he sways. “So what- what’s the plan?”
“Still working on it,” Rhodey says, his confidence slowly returning. “We’re trying to see if we can disarm the bomb from here. It’s too dangerous to trigger it by trying to cross the perimeter and grab him before it goes off.”
“But-”
“Don’t worry Peter. We’ll figure it out. We always do.”
He nods shakily, glancing over to the warehouse. So close, he thinks with a sinking feeling in his stomach.
“You should call him,” Steve says. “He still has his com connected.”
“Right. Okay.”
Released, Peter steps away from the small group of heroes as they work furiously with tech Peter has never seen before. Despite their words, Peter can see how worried they are in their tight stances and clenched knuckles. It rips a hole through him. “Karen. Call Tony please.”
“Of course. Calling Tony Stark.”
For a moment Peter is afraid he isn’t going to answer. On the last ring, however, it connects. Tony’s strained voice replaces his anxiety with temporary relief. “Peter?”
“Tony,” he gasps, knees weak. “I- I just got here. Are you okay?”
A short silence. “You’re here?”
“Yeah. Everyone close enough got the distress signal. I came as soon as I could but I was in English. Mrs. Fletcher doesn’t usually let kids leave in the middle of class but you know me. I found a way.”
Tony doesn’t laugh like Peter had hoped he would. The weight in his stomach triples. Instead, when he speaks, his mentor’s voice shakes. “You- you really shouldn’t be here, kid.”
“You’re in trouble. Of course I’m here. I’m always here.”
“It’s not looking- Christ. It’s not looking good Pete.”
Everything freezes. His chest stills for one breath, two. The ground seems to drop out underneath his feet. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.”
No. No, he refuses to believe it. “How much time is left?”
“Just under six minutes.”
“Oh man.” Peter glances over to the Avengers. “Uh, guys?” he calls. “How’s it looking?”
Rhodey’s pinched expression tells him enough.
He can’t breathe.
“Pete?” Tony’s voice filters back in, his tone warmer. “It’s okay bud. Just breathe. Everything’s going to be fine.”
Peter forces air into his lungs, because this isn’t about him. This is about Tony. “We’re going to get you out,” he promises.
He can imagine Tony wincing, and it brings tears into his eyes.
“Kid?” Tony’s voice is soft in a way he’s never heard it before.
“Yeah?”
“I just- I’m really proud of you, alright? I want you to know that.”
“Tony stop-”
“No,” he interupts. “I need this Pete. So zip it while the adult talks.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m so proud of you. Getting- getting to know you has been one of the greatest privileges I’ve had in my damn screwed up life. I wouldn’t trade it in for anything.”
His heart beats ferociously against his ribs, warranting a physical pain. He can hear it in his ears.
“Stop saying goodbye,” Peter pleads.
“You’re a good kid, Pete. And you know I don’t go around saying this kind of stuff lightly so you sure as hell better remember it. You’re ten times the hero I ever was and I know- I know that the world is in safe hands.”
“But what about me?” Peter gasps out, eyes trained on the warehouse as the world spins. He knows it’s selfish. God he knows it’s selfish. “What about me, Tony?”
“Three minutes!” Natasha calls out, her voice cracking.
Silence.
“Tony!”
“Don’t blame yourself for this, okay? Don’t you dare. You don’t deserve this kiddo. I know this is unfair. You- you deserve to be happy.”
“Tony-”
“I love you Peter,” he says.
And then the line goes dead.
Peter’s insides vaporize. “Karen,” he says numbly, “call him back.”
It doesn’t even ring. “I’m sorry Peter. The call has been declined.”
“Damn it!” he screams while turning hurriedly back to the group. They’re pale. Rhodey’s hands are shaking. “We have to get him out right now!”
“Nothing’s working,” Natasha stammers, her fingers flying over her keyboard.
“Something has to work! Make it work! It always works!”
“We’re trying the best we can!”
On the screen, he sees the detonation time at 2:11.
He’s not losing Tony.
He can’t survive another loss.
He can’t.
The world dissolves down to a single thought.
Then he’s sprinting.
Sprinting with all his might towards the warehouse. The other three scream out his name, ordering him to stop but he doesn’t listen. He doesn’t dare. He pushes onward, nearly stumbling against the liquid panic coursing through every vein. By some miracle he stays on both feet.
He launches himself right through the front door, a loud beep signalling the perimeter breach. Rhodey’s voice enters his ears then, forced through. “You triggered the bomb to fall down to a minute. You have 60 seconds to get him out of there.”
It has to be enough.
Tony isn’t hard to find. He’s in the center of the warehouse, chained around his torso. Peter is at his side in lightning speed, wrapping his hands around the restraints and straining with all his might. At first they don’t budge.
No, no. He has to be strong enough.
“Peter-” Tony gasps. He’s livid. Shaking like an addict on withdrawal. “What the hell are you doing here? The bomb-”
“We still have time,” Peter pants, blinking tears out of his eyes.
“Peter!” Everything they’ve been through together, good and bad, bleeds into Tony’s voice. It shakes under the weight. “You have to let me go bud. This whole place is going to explode-”
“No.”
“I’m not letting you die for me. I’m not losing you.”
“And I’m not losing you! I’ll get you out. I’m not giving up.”
The electronic beep of the timer is constant, merciless. Tony jerks against the chains, his eyes wide and blown with panic. 35 seconds. 34. 33. Peter can tell his mentor is trying to connect with him, trying to use these last seconds to make him fold. To sacrifice his own life for Peter’s safety.
But Peter can’t.
He won’t.
“You have to let me go,” Tony whispers.
Peter sobs. It’s dry and panicked and desperate. A prayer. Something deep and foreign clicks inside his chest and in the next second, the chains snap and fall away. Tony slumps forward in surprise, catching himself on his elbows. Peter wastes no time in pulling him up to his feet, too scared to count it as a victory.
“We’re in this together,” Peter hisses, unable to believe that in what could very well be their final moments, he’s angry.
At Tony, at himself. At the world.
“Fifteen seconds,” Rhodey says in his ears.
The world narrows to an impossible size. He’s aware of every beat of his heart. Of every breath. Him and Tony race for the exit, the daylight beyond its doors acting as a promise. For a moment Peter thinks they’re going to make it, that everything will be fine.
Then they cross the perimeter line.
His spider sense flares right before the bomb detonates. He barely has time to realize that obviously the failsafe would work both ways, but it’s too late to correct the mistake.
There’s a deafening explosion. The ground shakes violently and Peter is reminded horribly of the warehouse. Searing heat reaches his back and he uses his lost conscious thought to tackle Tony to the ground.
He isn’t awake long enough to see if he was able to save him.
----
He wakes up in the ambulance. Everything blurs as if it’s underwater.
There’s hands on his arms, on his face, holding him down. The pain is all-consuming, tearing him apart limb by limb.
Something pressed over his mouth makes it difficult to speak. He coughs in his fight for air and it feels like his body rips in half.
“He’s waking up!” someone yells frantically.
“T-T-”
The voice must have belonged to Steve because his face appears above him in a messy streak. Through the delirium Peter can still identify the sharp glare of worry in his eyes. “Don’t try and talk, Peter. You’re going to be okay.”
“T-Tony-”
He doesn’t know if he’s alive. He needs to know-
Something sharp pricks his arm before the thought can finish. It’s welcoming at first, but he can’t help being afraid.
Everything fades like it never quite existed in the first place.
And if Tony is dead, if it’s his fault, he wants it to stay that way.
----
The next time Peter wakes up he’s in medbay.
It’s familiar. Too familiar, he would argue. The cotton sheets, the sharp smell of antiseptic. The pressure of needles poking into him and oxygen in his nose.
He’s laying on his stomach, so there must be something wrong with his back. Whatever it is he doesn’t feel the pain yet, which is nice.
Every thought is murky and distant. With eyes still closed he searches desperately for them. Steve was there, he thinks. Rhodey and Natasha too. He had been scared. Had run for something. Or from something?
A bomb.
Tony.
The fear returns in a fatal swoop. Somewhere in the distance he hears his heart rate monitor spike. He squeezes his eyes closed further, not wanting to wake, not wanting to face a reality without Tony in it.
Tears pool in his eyes.
He’s no stranger to mourning.
“Peter?”
The voice is muted in his panic, almost unreachable, though he knows in all reality it must be close. It stops his hyperventilating short, his chest burning as he refuses to draw in air.
Then he hears it. Another heartbeat.
“Peter. Open your eyes bud.”
Bud.
For once in his life Peter listens, his landscape blurring with tears. Sure enough, Tony is there, laying beside him on his own bed, so close that they could reach out and touch if they wanted. His mentor looks terrible, the skin on his arms and neck bandaged to cover what could only be burns. But he’s awake and sitting up.
Alive.
“Is this real?” Peter whispers. He doesn’t move an inch. If it’s a trick, or some drug-induced vision, he wants it to be permanent.
The world pauses on its axis.
Tony wipes a tear off Peter’s cheek.
“This is real.”
And Peter knows it’s true.
“Tony,” he gasps, unable to manage anything else through the thick knot in his throat. His heart monitor goes crazy again. More tears escape him and he shoves his face into the mattress to stifle a sob.
A heavy weight falls off his back. The relief is dizzying.
“Don’t cry kiddo. You’ll make me cry.”
“I’m- I’m sorry. I’m not trying too-”
Tony shakes his head with a soft expression on his face. “You’re pumped full of painkillers. I don’t blame you.”
“You’re alive.”
It almost sounds like a question.
Tony’s face melts into something dark for a moment before turning into a small smile. It looks like regret, Peter thinks. Or guilt. “Yeah kiddo. I’m alive. So are you.”
“What happened?”
Tony straightens his posture and tilts up his chin as if to dramatize the story. “Well, firstly you decided to disobey three high level Avengers to run into a building that was about to explode.”
“Sounds like me,” Peter agrees weakly.
“You got me out but as soon as we crossed the warehouse boundary it triggered the bomb to detonate. We got caught in the blast.”
Peter swallows thickly. “Are you okay? I thought. I thought-” but he can’t finish. Can’t even imagine vocalizing it.
I thought you were dead.
“I’m okay,” Tony says too quickly. There’s pain in his eyes. Raw, unresolved. “You took most of the damage when you covered me with your own body. You managed to push us far enough away to escape most of the explosion. A couple steps back and we wouldn’t have made it.”
Peter knows Tony well enough to know what he’s thinking. “Is this where you yell at me about self-preservation?”
The sound Tony makes is almost a laugh. Almost. He shakes his head. “I thought for sure it was over,” he murmurs. “It’s not fair you had to make that choice.”
“We’re family.”
A pause and Tony has to wipe at his own eyes. He looks away, puts up a shield. “I know, kiddo. But your life is more important than mine. Always.”
Peter shakes his head sadly. “Tony-”
“Always.”
“No, no. That’s- that’s not true.” He tries to prop himself up on his elbows and winces when it hurts. “We accept the love we think we deserve, you know.”
Tony stills at this. “What?”
Peter furrows his eyebrows, afraid he said it wrong in his drugged state. “We accept the love we think we deserve.”
Bottom lip trembling, Tony looks away. When he speaks, his voice is barely audible. “Where’d you hear that?”
“Mmm. English class. It’s from a book we’re studying.”
“It’s nice.”
Peter nods his agreement, letting his eyes droop for a second. But no, this is important, so he forces them back open. “I think you deserve a whole lot of love,” Peter says quietly. “In fact we all think that. So just let us give it to you, okay? Believe it too.”
Tony leans back on his pillows and digs his hands into his eyes. “Wow, kiddo. Anyone tell you that you’re getting wise lately?”
“I’ve always been wise.”
“Mhm. Whatever you say.”
Peter smiles, something reconstructing inside of him. “Thank you for what you said over the com,” he says. “Before everything went crazy.”
“I meant every word, kid. You’re family, no doubt about it. And that’s- that’s why I was so scared. It’s why I’m always scared. You mean too much to me to lose you.”
“You’re not going to lose me.”
“Pete-”
“I’m wise, remember? Would I lie?”
Tony huffs out a smile. “I suppose not.”
Peter feels the drugs hold over him, wanting to drag him back under. He reaches his arm out to Tony who accepts it in his own. “We’re okay,” he mumbles. Finally, his eyes slip closed. “It’s over now.”
Time passes and Peter drifts on the surface. He feels Tony rubbing small circles against his knuckles.
“Love you, kiddo,” he hears Tony say after a while. His mentor’s voice is more gentle than he’s ever heard it before. He must think Peter is asleep.
Good thing he’s always full of surprises.
“Love you too,” he murmurs without hesitation. It drains the last of his energy and this time, he’s not afraid to let go. He falls asleep to the sound of Tony’s soft laugh.
It’s healing. A fresh start. A future. A family.
It’s been a long journey, Peter thinks.
And he wouldn’t change a thing.
-----
I'M NOT CRYING YOU ARE!!
Okay... maybe it is me who's crying haha.
Where do I even begin?? It's funny how after writing nearly 40,000 words for this fic I can't seem to articulate the ones to say how grateful I am. I've loved posting on here every day. I've loved interacting with you all and making so many new friends. Your comments and support and love have seriously made this month so much brighter. You've made me a better writer, you've made me smile and cry (in a good way lol). Just, wow. THANK YOU. From the bottom of my heart thank you. This ending is bitter sweet for me, but there's good things ahead I promise :)
I've never been good at goodbyes, so lets not make it a goodbye!! You're all so amazing. I truly, truly mean it. I couldn't have done this without you. This is just as much my story as it is yours. I hope you enjoyed this conclusion. Please lets stay friends!!! Please!! Come talk with me on tumblr: @polaroid15 if you want <3
Alright friends. There's so much more I could say but I don't want to keep you forever haha. I LOVE YOU. SO SO SO SO MUCH. I AM GRATEFUL FOR YOU. And as always, I hope you're having an amazing day <3
It's been a long journey, but I wouldn't change a thing :) <3
Love, Polaroid15
#febuwhump#febuwhump2021#febuwhumpday28#the last one :(#peter parker#tony stark#irondad#irondad fic#protective peter parker#protective tony stark#we accept the love we think we deserve#my fic#hurt tony stark#hurt peter parker#found family#peter parker whump#tony stark acting as peter parkers parental figure#mcu#spider-man#thank you all so much for everything <3
41 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hair
Click here to read the entire fic on AO3
The party went a lot better than Katara had feared. Of course there were the ones that Zuko had to invite, but they were already edging toward the door. Then there were the ones she hadn’t agreed with inviting in the first place, but Mai seemed content talking with Thuy and the twins.
Of the rest, they were all friends and family. The Air Nomad cousins flitted around, Sokka was telling a story to a group of uneasy ministers, and Suki was oddly conversational with Ty Lee. Hakoda and Malina circulated around, with Malina looking much more comfortable in the space than Hakoda.
“Happy Birthday Zuko!” Malina called out as they both approached.
“Thanks Malina.” Zuko replied and hugged her.
Katara looked away, not wanting to be so close to the neatly woven necklace the other woman was wearing. Her fingers twitched as she fought the urge to touch the medallion at her own throat.
“Katara, you look beautiful.” Malina said, clasping her hands together at her chest.
“Thank you. It feels a bit weird.” Katara laughed awkwardly and touched her crown. “I think I might have to cut my hair to get-”
“NO.” Malina said forcefully, startling Katara.
Shrinking, Malina’s face reddened and she stepped back.
“Sorry. It’s…” Malina calmed, set her shoulders, and looked back up at Katara. “You and my brother have the best hair. You shouldn’t cut it, it’s too lovely.”
“Malina has a bit of hair envy.” Hakoda said, holding her hand.
“My grandfather was an Airbender, and my mother and I inherited his complexion. It’s why I don’t always...fit.” Malina said, waving her hand near her head. Her reddish hair was cut short and very modern. It had been one of the things that irritated Katara when they first met.
“I hadn’t realized you’re a quarter Air Nomad.” Zuko said.
“It happens more often than you’d think. They don’t have a problem with relationships, but they only take Airbenders into the temples.” Malina said. “If you know anyone from the Poles that’s, well, like me, they most likely have an Airbender parent or grandparent.”
Katara thought about Hama’s ghoulish appearance and gave a small grunt.
“But yes, I’ve always wanted the thick hair of the Poles. I don’t look like any of the Waterbenders from my childhood books, you know?” Malina gave a laugh, as if it didn’t bother her, but Katara could hear the pain in it.
It wasn’t something she cared about, but she could recognize it.
As the party wound down, the Katara slipped out to the wide porch attached to the back of the hall. Sokka and Suki were already there, a bottle of something mysterious open and being poured into four glasses.
Zuko tried to slip out soon after, but Druk’s clattering talons gave him away. Katara only huffed as Druk propelled himself into her lap while Zuko sat next to her.
“Remember the first birthday of yours we celebrated?” Sokka asked, handing over a filled glass.
“I try not to.” Zuko said and Katara laughed.
“Remember how Katara’s biggest problem was medical school?” Suki asked and Katara’s laugh turned into a groan.
“Do you ever wish you had just become a doctor?” Sokka asked.
Katara shrugged, taking a sip from her glass and idly stroking Druk’s crest.
“I think I was only trying to be a doctor because of mom. I don’t know what I’d do if I went to school for myself.” She said.
“Did you ever go to college, Suki?” Zuko asked.
Suki shook her head.
“There was no need. I had a job in Kyoshi, and now I just make sure Sokka survives whatever it is y’all drag him into.” She answered.
Sokka stuck out his tongue and Suki pushed him.
“You know, now that things have settled down, I’m trying to think of what to do next.” Katara asked.
“Things have settled down?” Zuko retorted and she chuckled.
“You know what I mean.” She then sighed and tilted her glass back and forth. “I have to think about what comes next.”
“I can’t imagine your situation is easy.” Suki said.
Zuko and Katara looked at each other.
“It’s gotten easier for me, since I don’t have to deal with the day to day things. The Prime Minister is a pain, but it has freed up a lot of my time.” Zuko said before downing the rest of his glass.
“But no one in Caldera likes you being in the Poles so often.” Katara countered and Zuko shrugged, holding his glass out to Sokka for a refill.
“What will you do when you have kids?” Sokka asked.
Katara squeezed Druk’s fur and he squeeked, nipping her hand before bounding off her lap.
“We can’t have kids right now.” She said.
Sokka raised an eyebrow and she felt her face warm.
“It’s a lot of things, but tonight, Malina said…” Katara drifted and hastily took a drink.
“Malina said what?” Sokka prompted.
Katara swallowed slowly and put both hands around the glass, tapping the sides with her fingers.
“It doesn’t matter.” She mumbled.
“I think it-” Sokka stopped as Suki held his arm.
“I think it’s a private matter.” She said, tilting her head toward Zuko.
“Fine. How about we play liar’s dice?” Sokka asked, fishing out two dice from his pocket.
“I am going to regret this.” Zuko groaned.
~
Katara sat at the vanity, the crown in her hands. It was late in the night and the palace was eerily quiet after such a busy day. She could hear Zuko in the adjacent bathroom, the shower acting like white noise.
Placing the crown on the vanity, Katara leaned forward and examined her face. Thirty was fast approaching and she looked at the tiny fissures near her eyes. Benders as a whole tended to live longer and aged slower than the non-Bender population. It was one reason why Malina looked so uncomfortably young standing next to Hakoda, despite them being close in age. Benders also didn’t conceive as often or as quickly, so they could have children far past others without worrying about major health risks or complications.
So it made sense when Sokka announced that he and Suki were trying for children.
But that conversation was another brick in the tower Zuko had been building for months.
As the shower shut off, Katara opened one of her cream jars and lifted it, breathing in the scent of seaweed and salt. She started to apply it just as Zuko came into the room, followed by a rolling fog of warm, jasmine scented steam.
He was wearing his pajama pants and his towel was around his neck, so Katara got a good look at his chest as he watched her.
Tossing the towel in a hamper, Zuko walked over and stood behind Katara, reaching over her to grab her brush.
“Your hair is so heavy when it gets wet.” He said, grabbing a portion in his hand. Starting at the ends, Zuko worked the brush slowly up her hair, carefully plucking free any knots.
“Maybe I should cut it.” Katara said lightly, rubbing the cream into her face in small circles.
“If that’s what you want. I’d hate to see it go.” Zuko replied.
“I like your hair long.”
“You know, back when Agni Kais were more common, this kind of length would have meaning.” Zuko smiled and lifted another section of hair. “Now it’s just custom.”
“Do you think…” Katara stopped and lowered her hands. Wiping them off on a cloth, she screwed the lid on her face cream.
“Would you be upset if our kids had my hair?” Zuko asked.
Katara snapped her head up, looking at him through the mirror. He kept his eyes down, brushing her hair.
“That isn’t it.” She said.
“Isn’t it?” He asked.
Katara turned and took hold of Zuko’s hand holding her brush.
“Where would our children fit in?” She asked.
“What do you mean?” Zuko finally looked at her and Katara winced. His was a pain she cared about.
“We don’t live together, Zuko. We spend weeks out the year together but that’s mostly when we’re at Avatar Island. These visits aren’t…” She drifted again, unable to vocalize her frustrations.
“That could change.” Zuko said.
“How? If we have a Waterbender, they’re going to be my heir. Any other and they’re yours. We have to acknowledge that people will not be happy if they don’t live in the right spot and then what about us? Could you be apart from me and our children?” Katara stood and hugged Zuko tightly.
“Every time I think about hair or complexion or bending, it just reminds me that I’m never going to have a Water Tribe child that I raise in a small village. Our child will always be somewhere in the middle and I. I don’t know if I want that.” She continued.
Zuko wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her just as tight.
“I know, Katara, I do. But I can’t explain how badly I want a child. How badly I want our child.” He said. “I’ll get Thuy to pull the Poles down here if it means I get to be a parent with you.”
“But Zuko,” Katara tilted her head back to look at him. “What if I just want it to be us?”
He stepped back and took her face in his hands. His eyes flicked back and forth between hers.
“Katara, do not ask a Fire Lord what he would do to get what he wants.” He said and Katara took in a sharp breath.
“But children-”
“Our children.” His fingers pressed into the back of her head and Katara leaned toward him. “I will have you and no one else.”
“Zuko-”
“I will do whatever I must to prove to you that this will be okay. We can adopt. We can have one child or a dozen. I will raise volcanoes to make islands so that I can walk from here to anywhere in the world to be with you. You are my home, Katara, and I will be the only one in your life for as long as you want if you just say eventually we can have a family.”
Katara was silent as she stared back at him.
“I want a palace.” She said.
“Done. Where should I put it?”
“Republic City.”
Zuko blinked and a slow smile spread across his face.
“Beloved wife, I’ll make sure they build one large enough I can see it from here.” He said.
“Good.” Katara stepped closer to him and pulled his hands down to her sides. “And we can talk about one or two.”
In bed, Katara laid her hands on her abdomen. Counting the phases of the moon, she wondered. It could be as early as next month.
Her heart fluttered but it wasn’t such a bad feeling this time.
Feeling Zuko shift in his sleep, Katara looked over at him.
Maybe later. She wanted more time as his sole favorite.
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
Bad Boy (Todoroki x Reader)
Pairing: Todoroki x Reader
Genre: Angst to fluff, and a lil spice ;), No quirk!AU
Summary: You finally get to see your childhood friend Shouto after years of being separated only to find out he’s completely changed.
BGM: “Younger” by Ruel
Word count: 2,781
Tags: @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog @bunnythepipsqueak
a/n: God this photo fucked me up good when I first saw it.
I saw this picture on my search for images for my last Todo post aaaaand yeah, pretty self explanatory. I got to thinking, what if this poor baby finally snapped one day and was like "FUCK ENDEAVOR AND HIS ENTIRE PROGRAM, IM NOBODY'S MASTERPIECE" and he went the complete opposite direction. So enjoy a little bit of OOC Todoroki and a bit of a longer post than my usual stuff!
I’m really really sorry about not updating in the past few days. I was really swamped by college work and studying, and I was mentally exhausted and physically tired every day. Today wasn’t my day and I almost had a breakdown because a lot of things piled up in me, but I had to pull myself together somehow. Hopefully, after this week, I’ll go back to a somewhat regular posting schedule. Thanks for being patient with me guys, I really appreciate it :)
When my mom told me Shouto will be going to the same high school as me, I was expecting the same buttoned-up, shy, good boy from elementary school. Oh boy, was I wrong.
The boy I bump into in the hallway definitely looks like Shouto, but the only thing that's the same is his mismatched hair and eyes. Everything else about him was much different. His entire energy was different, even from the fraction of a second I focused on his face.
"Shouto?" I call when he's about to brush past me.
I don't think he's expecting someone to know him on the first day, pausing and looking down curiously.
The most shocking feature of all is the scar on his left side, a red blotch that covers the left side of his face, starkly contrasting his brilliant turquoise eye; a single ray of light in a scarlet sky.
As I'm gaping at the puckered skin, his eyebrows furrowing at my face as recognition slowly dawns on him. "(Y/n)?"
I'm relieved that he at least remembers me. "Yeah, hey." I don't really know what to do now. My first instinct is to hug him, but something tells me he isn't a fan of that sort of thing anymore. There's a coldness between us that's thick as a knife. "How have you been?"
"Fine," he answers curtly. His hands are stuffed into his pockets, leaning back in a way that seems uncharacteristic of him and more like a ruffian.
Does his not want to talk to me? I don't blame him, I haven't been in his life for a good eight years. "How are your parents?"
His jaw clenches. "Fine."
Oh. I struck a nerve. "Do you wanna catch up at lunch? What class are you in?"
"1-A." Overjoyed that we share the same class, I'm about to open my mouth, but he interjects, "But I don't think we should talk." That was the last thing he said before he strolls past me.
I'm stunned, following his receding back through the sea of students. I guess I shouldn't have brought up his parents when I know it's a sensitive topic, but I didn't know what else to say. And it's probably awkward to see someone you used to be close to talk to you again, but the least he could've been is polite. That's saying something, because Shouto was always the polite child.
Something is terribly wrong here.
Shouto has definitely changed since we were younger. He's become a delinquent.
He never even shows up to class. After our little encounter, he was slumped in his seat until the teacher finished role call, then he just got up and walked out in the middle of class and never came back. In all the days after that, his seat remained empty even at the beginning of the day.
At first, I gave him the benefit of the doubt. What if he happened to get sick and had to stay home? Then I saw his signature mismatched tuft of hair walking back home in the school yard, and I knew he was skipping.
After a whole two weeks passed of him skipping, I had enough. The Shouto I know would never cut class even if his life depended on it. During lunch, I went looking for him in the group of other delinquent kids in the back of the school.
"Todoroki?" the ash-blond ringleader ruffles his hair and scoffs, "Idiot must be off somewhere by himself like the damn loner he is. He picked a fight with me and I almost beat his ass into oblivion!"
I ball my fists up, more angry at Shouto than the group of boys eyeing me like a pack of wolves. "You guys are useless," I mumble, about to turn away from them.
"Aww, is he your boyfriend, sweetie?" the honey blond with a black streak in his hair smoothly wraps an arm around me. "He probably doesn't care about you, you deserve someone else who'll give you his time."
"Fuck off, who said you can touch me?" I shove his arm away and step back.
"Calm down there," the red head with sharp teeth taunts with a smirk, "You're getting a bit defensive. You sure you don't need help looking for your little prince?"
"I'm fine on my own, thanks," I huff, turning around to go look for Shouto elsewhere.
"Maybe I'll come with you," the overly-friendly boy blocks my way again. "If he's not your boyfriend, maybe we can get together sometime?"
"Not interested. Out of my way, Pikachu reject." I try to side-step him, but the leader grabs the back of my collar and whips me around so I'm face to face with his bared teeth.
"You're a bit rude, aren't you? Should I pull your head out your ass for you?" His crimson eyes glare his murderous intent into me.
I hold my ground, the anger against my irresponsible friend more powerful than any fear of this hothead possibly hurting me. "Don't act so tough if your talk is cheap."
He cracks his knuckles without breaking eye contact with me. "I'll show you cheap talk. Try waking up next week after I'm done with you!" he snarls.
I mirror his expression. I don't mind throwing hands at this guy if I have to, blood rushing through me to prepare for the fist fight. "I dare you-!"
"Enough, (Y/n)."
I can feel his presence right behind me even though he doesn't physically touch me.
Scarlet eyes shift behind me. "Took you long enough, hot shot. Your friend has just as much spunk as you, I'll kick both your asses!"
"I'd like to see you try, Bakugou," Shouto responds coldly. "We both know who'd win." Keeping his gaze locked on the aggressive male, he harshly grabs my arm and hauls me away. "Let's go."
I'm fuming with anger when we're back inside the building. I turn on him when he finally releases me, but he's already starting down the hall. "Don't walk away from me! We need to talk!" I stomp over, following him to an abandoned classroom. "What the hell is wrong with you?! First of all, you were a real ass when I talked to you last week. Second of all, you're not even coming to class like you should. And now you're already picking fights with that idiot out there? What's gotten into you Shouto?!"
"You were about to get into a fight as well. You should thank me," he comments coldly, slipping into a desk with books open on top.
"I could've handled it just fine without you! The only reason I was even there talking to them was because I was looking for you!" I hover over him, glaring down so he can tell how angry I am. "You'e skipped class all week, this isn't like you at all! How are you supposed to catch-?"
One glance down the the open books shows all the material we've been going over in class. He's already caught up to today's lesson, writing notes in his book and ignoring my presence. The entire setup makes me angrier. "I don't understand you, Shouto. What kind of act are you trying to pull? You're not a delinquent, why are you trying to act like one for everyone else? Or is this all because you're just trying to ignore me?"
His pencil stops moving and it slams down onto the desk. "A lot happened since you left, (Y/n)," the boy responds. His quivering voice indicates restriction of intense emotion.
The hurt is apparent across his entire face, calming me down. My gaze lingers on the left side of his features, over the eye that somehow looks perpetually sad. "How did you get that scar, Shouto?"
The boy's eyebrows furrow. "My father never let up on me after you left, and he got worse. My mother couldn't handle fighting him on her own anymore. One day, she snapped, told me how unsightly my left side was, and pouring boiling water over my face." His large hand gingerly covers his reddened skin. "And my bastard father put her in a mental institution after that. He did this."
My heart aches for my childhood friend, the boy I took care of and listened to all his problems. I can't imagine how much pain Rei was going through. For her to have lost it, she must've held such a heavy burden. When I had to move away, I felt so guilty about leaving him with all his troubles. He had no one else to reach out to and it was snatched from him. There wasn't a day I stopped thinking and worrying over him. I reach to take his hand and offer comfort. "Shou-"
Shouto bolts up from his seat, his taller figure hunching over mine, features screwed up in distaste. "You weren't there when I needed you most."
I'm taken back, hurt more than anything. "It's not my fault, we were so much younger, I didn't have a choice but to go with my parents."
A dark chuckle erupts from his lips, dismissing my excuses. "It's fine. It happened, I've learned to deal with it."
I'm about to blow my top with this kid. "Yeah, you've dealt really well, haven't you?" I roll my eyes.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
My mouth gapes, letting out a sputtered scoff. "You're kidding. Just look at you! You're pretending to be someone you're not! You and I both know you were never the bad boy type when we were kids. You're the slightly awkward, naturally smart, driven, hardworking-"
"I was only those things because my father forced them on me," he passes by me, crossing his arms. "I don't want to be anything that bastard wants anymore. And if you can't see that, then we were never friends in the first place."
That's a stab in the chest. How can he say that we were never friends when we used to do everything together? A surge of fury rushing through me, I grab his arm to keep him from moving any farther. "You love watching superhero cartoons, your favorite was All Might. Sometimes, you're so damn lazy that instead of doing homework when you came home, you would sneak in a nap before your dad came home to see you slacking off. Your favorite food in the entire world is cold soba. You don't like extremely sweet desserts. You've always been insecure about how strange your mismatched hair and eyes look, but I always had to assure you that you're still the most handsome guy in our class."
Shouto halfway turns around to look at me.
"If we weren't friends, why do I know so much about you?" I take another bold step towards him, softening at the underlying pain etched into his features. "I know you always hated the way your dad expects so much from you. The only thing you ever wanted in your childhood was to be normal. The pressure finally crumbled down on you and your mom, and I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you through it. But you shouldn't abandon everything that you are. You took after your mom more than your dad; you're sometimes a sassy son of a bitch, but you're kind and have a deep respect for people you admire. You have a natural sense of humor that you don't even know you have. You care about the people you're close to, you only struggle with communicating how you feel sometimes."
His lips part slightly, processing everything I just showered onto him. Guilt eventually creeps up on him, choosing to rub the back of his neck. "You...always did know just what to say."
I smirk and engulf him into my long-awaited hug. "Who else would put you back in your place?"
His arms hesitantly wrap around my body, the act of sharing body warmth strange yet familiar to him. It's a small victory, but I'm relieved that we're back on speaking terms. I'm ready to resume protecting him as I should.
Shouto shifts in our embrace. "You said...I struggle with telling people how I feel...?" he mumbles sheepishly near my ear.
My boy perks with confusion. "Yeah, even when we first-"
"Would it suffice if..."
Before I can turn to search his face for what he could be implying, his grip around me loosens as he pulls back to look at me, one of his warm hands resting against my cheek. His face looms right in front of me, my breath catching in surprise, before he presses his lips to mine softly. The weightlessness in my stomach is unmistakable.
As quick and unexpected as it came, it also left, Shouto's half lidded gaze resting on me from a small distance away. All I can do is stare off dazed, still trying to process what just happened.
He leans back against the nearest desk in the front row. "I guess I should've asked first." I can see his cheeks and his ears turn almost as flushed as the color of his hair despite his hand covering half his face to hide it. "But it was the only way I can think to get my point across without stumbling over words."
My heart still flutters trying to recover back to normal, my knees shaking as I lean against the teacher's desk for stability. I resist the urge to touch my lips like a shocked schoolgirl, but I'm still trying to process the whole thing. "You know," I cough, "We did already kiss when we were like...five, so this wasn't really our first. But I don't usually count that-"
The intense color fades from his face almost at once, a darkness creeping into his gaze. "Then," he pins me back into the desk, hands on both sides of the wood to trap me, "I shouldn't have any qualms about doing it again."
Contrasting from his strong setup, his next kiss is still shy and hesitant. After exchanging a couple more tentative lip-caresses that still make my head spin, he's gotten his feet wet enough to go harder, establishing a rhythm between us. As his kisses intensify, his hands reach up to cup both sides of my nape, fingers tangling in my hair desperately and tilting my head up for a better angle. My own hands grasp the collar of his uniform, pulling him closer into the heat of the moment.
His body pushes me practically into sitting on top of the desk, moving one of his knees between my legs as he lets ones of his hands roam down to grip my waist. The sudden tug elicits a minute gasp, allowing Shouto to nip at my bottom lip before tugging my head back to trail soft kisses down my jaw. My fingers thread through his soft locks, letting him massage my neck with his mouth.
"W-Where did you learn all this?" I breathe out unsteadily, my breath refusing to return.
He straightens up and captures my lips in another slow kiss. "You'll never know." Another one. "I've admittedly imagined this for a while." The next kiss is much deeper, a hum vibrating from his chest as his fingers dig into my side again. "You're special, so dear." His mumbles between kisses become more incoherent as his kisses become messy.
"Shouto." I finally manage to push him away for me to breathe and calm my dizzy head. Both of us are panting. His half-lidded eyes and flushed face tempt me, but the fear of someone walking by suddenly alerts in my mind. "Someone might see us. Besides, isn't there something you need to say?"
His brow lifts. "I'm...sorry for being rude to you last week."
"That was needed, too," I chuckle, "But there's something else."
Confusion crosses his features. "Have I done something else wrong?"
My hands slide down to grip his hands. "Don't you need to ask me to date you officially?"
The tint of rose on his cheeks intensifies a shade. "I thought it was clear already..."
Another chuckle bubbles from my lips and I lean up to kiss his warm cheek. "I'll let it pass because I want to date you too." His face begins to light up in joy, but I push off from the desk and tow him out of the room. "But you have to start coming to class again."
Shouto catches up to keep pace with me and presses a kiss to my forehead. "Done."
"And you need to see a therapist, Mr. Bad Boy."
He breaks out into a smile at that nickname. "I'll think about it."
#todoroki x reader#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#todoroki shouto#shouto todoroki#no quirks au#todoroki angst#angst to fluff#gender neutral reader#todoroki imagine#todoroki scenario#mha todoroki#bnha todoroki#mha x reader#bnha x reader#mha fanfiction#bnha fanfiction
651 notes
·
View notes
Text
Flares
Summary: Imagine keeping a secret from your friends, but when you’re in need of a favor.. that secret you’ve guarded is now out.
Words: 2.9K
Warnings: Cancer. The holidays have got me thinking about my mom and I just want to give someone the happy ending my mom never got.
Curled up on the sofa, no amount of TV has been able to distract you. It's been about a month since you've started chemotherapy and as warned your hair has slowly started to fall out. You had bawled earlier that morning when you noticed it, and then tried to distract yourself by binge eating and watching rom-coms. Unfortunately it didn't work.
Sighing, you pick up your iPhone to check the time. It's just after four in the afternoon and without second guessing yourself, you scroll through your contacts until you land on one name in particular. You're not as close to him as you are to others in your friend group, but you do trust him. So after quickly composing a text, you hit send on it and hope for the best.
[Hey, Jeff. When you have a free moment, can we talk?]
Surprisingly it doesn't take long for him to reply.
[I'm actually in neighborhood. Wanna grab a bite to eat?]
[Yeah. That's fine.]
[I'll text you when I'm outside.]
With your stomach in knots, you get up and quickly make yourself decently presentable for the public. You take two edibles that had been prescribed by your doctor when the nausea and anxiety became too much, and pray that you can keep your food down when out with your friend. Jeff soon texts and you quickly pocket some money, your phone, and your keys before leaving out the front door.
Then settling into the front passenger seat of Jeff's vehicle, you flash him a tired grin. "Hey, how's your day been?"
"Boring." As Jeff pulls away from the curb, you buckle yourself in and then try to sit as still as possible. "Had to film an ad for Old Spice, but that was over and done with surprisingly fast. How was your day?"
"Honestly? It's been a shit day," you say, chuckling softly. "It's kind of why I wanted to talk to you."
"Uh oh." He glances between the road and you. "This can't be good."
"You have no idea how right you are." Sighing, you then say, "I'm not sure I want to tell you right now. It's kind of an appetite killer and I already took two edibles."
Jeff frowns. "Edibles? I didn't know you were into that."
"I'm not, but they were prescribed by my doctor."
"Doctor? What the hell is going on, Y/N?"
"I'm sorry." Wringing your hands together nervously, you then meet Jeff's stare after he's pulled off into a gas station parking lot. "I'm sick. I didn't want to tell anyone until I absolutely had to and this morning I realized I was going to have to start because I need to ask you for a favor."
"Y/N," he starts, "the only time someone is prescribed edibles is when-"
"-when someone has cancer. When the chemo becomes too much and the patient can't keep food down."
Jeff's eyes close as he deeply exhales. "Jesus." A moment of silence passes and then, "what's this favor?"
"I need you to shave my head."
"What?"
"During chemo, hair starts falling out anywhere between two to four weeks. It's been a little over five for me and I noticed it falling out this morning."
He gulps. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah." Your voice wobbles and tears fill your eyes, but you're quick to wipe them away before they fall. "I don't want to go to a stranger for this. This is really personal and I would rather the person shaving my head be someone I trust."
"Then yes. I'll do it." You smile, but you can't help the tears. "Christ, Y/N, come here." Jeff opens his arms for a hug and you unbuckle your seatbelt so you're able to hug him over the center console. "You know you're gonna have to tell everyone. And soon."
"I will. I kind of have an idea of how I want to tell them, but you'd have to agree to it."
Pulling out of the hug, Jeff grins. "Okay then. We'll talk details over dinner because I'm sure you're starting to feel really hungry."
"I am." Jeff chuckles and then starts to drive. On the road to the chosen restaurant , you finally say, "Thanks, Jeff."
"Don't even mention it. I will always be there for my friends." He flashes you that dimpled smile of his and for a moment you feel like you can breathe again.
Letting someone in on this secret of yours feels like a weight has been lifted off your chest.
"So are you gonna tell me why we're doing a special edition of Jeff's Barbershop in my living room?" David wonders.
Zane and Heath are helping Jeff setup, pushing back the furniture and laying down some plastic so hair doesn't get caught in the carpet.
"You'll know soon enough."
"Can you at least let us know whose hair you're cutting?" He then asks.
Jeff sighs. "You'll know soon enough, man." David frowns, and Heath and Zane suddenly look interested in Jeff's vague answers. "Just- no jokes. Alright? This is going to be pretty serious."
"Jesus. What the hell is going on?" Zane nervously chuckles, attempting to cut the tension. It doesn't work.
"Okay. Well who's all coming?" David asks.
"Mariah, Erin, Carly, Y/N, Natalie, Jason, Todd, and Matt. Everyone else couldn't make it, so we'll call them afterward."
"Man," Heath sighs. "I've got a bad feeling about today. If Jeff isn't cracking jokes, something must really be up."
Jeff only shrugs, refusing to say anymore on the matter.
- X - X - X - X - X -
By the time everyone is gathered at David's and has calmed down from greeting one another, Jeff stands next to the chair in the middle of the room. He picks up the black cape from the seat and holds it in one hand, staring out at everyone. "Ready?"
Everyone then glances around the room, anxious to see who's going to stand, and you almost laugh at their surprised exclamations when you push yourself up to your feet.
"What?!" Erin shouts, smiling. "No way!" She then looks to Jeff. "I thought you didn't cut women's hair? You nearly panicked when I asked you buzz my baby hairs."
"This is a special occasion of sorts. You'll understand soon enough," he says.
Now standing next to Jeff, you stuff your hands into the pocket of your hoodie. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and you lean into him for some much needed comfort. "I know you're all probably confused," you start, "but I have something to tell you and I figured I'd tell as many of you as I can in one go because this is kind of hard to say out loud."
Mariah frowns and leans forward. "What's going on, girl?"
You take a deep breath, but it doesn't help. Tears immediately spring to your eyes, even as you try to screw your mouth and nose up to keep them at bay. The tears suddenly have everyone on edge. "I.. I have cancer." The entire group goes silent and those who'd been staring at their phones immediately drop them. "I found out a little over a month ago and have been having chemo sessions for about just as long."
"Why didn't you tell us sooner?" David wonders.
You shrug. "It was hard to process at first, but then I just got scared that you'd all treat me differently once you found out. And now that my hair is falling out and Jeff kindly accepted to do me a favor, I figured I'd tell you instead of surprising you with my bald noggin'."
Heath and David are the first out of their seats, the two young men sandwiching you in a hug. You laugh, but then your laughter turns into sobs as you cling to them. One by one, the rest of your friends stand to embrace you and whisper words of encouragement.
When they're done, you step back and wipe your eyes. "None of you guys actually have to stay for the cut, but you're more than welcome to. Jeff's gonna film as if he were back at his own place and I'm just going to talk about how I found out about the cancer."
"We're staying," Jason says. "We're gonna be here for you every step of the way."
You finally take a seat in the chair and Jeff wraps the cape around your neck. You gulp down the lump in your throat, inhaling and exhaling loudly to prepare yourself for what's about to come. The sound of the clippers turn on and you close your eyes when you feel the teeth of the clippers at the front of your hairline.
Then almost as if he's unsure, Jeff slowly drags the clippers atop your head. The moment you feel your hair being cut, you can't stop the tears that start to flow once more. This time, however, they're silent.
"So, uh, how did you find out about the cancer?" Jeff asks.
He continues to cut and it takes you a moment to find your voice. "It was stupid, really," you huff. "I was just feeling kind of worn down, but I wasn't sick. So after being utterly exhausted for no apparent reason, I went to the doctor where they drew some blood and found abnormalities in my blood."
"Didn't you lose your mom to cancer?" Natalie asks.
"I did." Shakily smiling, you take a moment to control your warring emotions. "Since my mom had it, the doctors urged me to get checked out early. I refused. And then I refused again when my dad's sister was diagnosed and my chances of having it as well were even higher."
"God," Erin sighs. "I don't think I could not know. I'd have gotten checked out as soon as possible."
"It's easy to say that if you haven't seen anyone go through it," you tell her. "But I watched my mom go through chemo several times and watched her health slowly deteriorate. I didn't want to get as sick as she did. It was horrible. So I came to the conclusion that if I didn't know, then it was okay. It'd take forever to actually show symptoms and I was fine with that."
"But the symptoms showed up early," Zane guesses.
You nod. "They did."
"What- what kind of cancer is it?" Matt asks.
"Breast. Exactly like my mom had, but nowhere as advanced as hers was."
"So that's a good thing. Right?" Todd wonders.
"I mean.." you trail off, shrugging. "My chances are better than hers were, but I'd rather not have cancer to begin with."
Everyone falls silent and the only sound for a few minutes are the buzzing clippers.
You let Jeff move your head this way as he cuts, almost missing his question. "Now that you know, do you wish you'd have gotten checked sooner?"
"Honestly? Yeah. Because if they had caught it sooner, then I wouldn't need chemo," you admit. "So my advice to everyone is, is that even though you hate doctor visits, schedule them for at least every six months. And if your family has a history of cancer, get checked as soon as possible and schedule appointments every three months to make sure nothing pops up suddenly."
"Okay. And we're.. done."
Jeff cleans you off and unlatches the cape from around your neck, but you're frozen in your seat. Your head feels a whole lot lighter and though you asked Jeff for this haircut, you don't want to see it.
"Y/N?" Carly's soft voice pulls you out of your mind.
"I'm okay." You shakily smile. "I just- it's just a lot to take in. Now I know how my mom felt when my brother cut her hair those three times."
Jeff comes around to stop before you, he grabbing your hands and gently pulling you to your feet. "Whatever you need, we're here for you." He wraps his arms around you, tucking you under his chin. "If you want to go to a wig shop, we'll go to a wig shop."
You sniffle, chuckling. "No offense to your fantastic cut, but we're definitely going to a wig shop."
"Hell yes we are, baby," Zane agrees.
The others slowly start to unwind from the serious situation you dropped into their laps, and though there are still tears in their eyes and pity in their expressions, they try to make the best of it.
Plans are made to keep you decently active, your friends wheedle more information out of you about your family's health history, and then before Jeff can leave you follow him outside.
"Hey," you call out, stalling him, the hood of your jacket pulled up and over your head. "I know how annoying some of your viewers are, so if you want I can make an intro or outro for your video to let everyone know the video was my idea and that you didn't make it for the views."
Jeff sheepishly smiles. "You watch my videos?"
"We're friends, aren't we?" You grin. "Of course I watch them. So what do you say?"
"I'd appreciate it. Thanks, Y/N."
"Mhm. And thank you. For everything."
Jeff's dimples make an appearance as he smiles, he nodding before getting in his vehicle to take his leave.
The news of your cancer took every one of the fans by surprise.
Jeff had edited his video as quickly as he could and posted it with your permission. Then as soon as his video was up, you took a couple of selfies and posted them to Instagram with a link to the video that explained everything. The love and support that had quickly followed left you in tears, and feeling quite content with yourself for your decision to no longer keep your illness a secret.
The chemotherapy eventually got the best of you and there were times when you couldn't even get out of bed. It went from your friends constantly checking on you to moving you into David's spare bedroom when they found you struggling to breathe one day from an anxiety attack. You hadn't wanted to become a burden, but everyone was in agreement that they'd feel better if you lived with one of them until treatment was over. And seeing as you lived closest to Natalie and David, it was their home you moved into.
You filmed bits for everyone's vlogs to talk about your journey with cancer and about the progress you'd made while getting treatment. But soon the treatments stopped and you had to endure yet more testing to see if the chemo was doing it's job.
Then a week later, you're getting ready to go visit the doctor for your results.
As you're sliding your feet into a pair of sneakers, David's just getting home.
"Hey, Y/N. Going out?"
"Yeah." Pulling a beanie atop your head, you fix it just right before meeting David's gaze. "Today's the big day. I find out whether or not I can stop chemo for good or have to have another round."
His eyes subtly widen. "Yeah? Can I go?"
"Sure. You mind driving? I'm a bit anxious."
"Not at all. Lets go."
The drive is mostly a relaxed one, David asking about your plans should you get good news. You told him that you'd be moving back into your own apartment and that you were going back to work as soon as possible because your job was still waiting for you.
David then proceeded to assure you that no matter what he and all your friends would be there for you to fall back on should you need it. Of course you knew that, but it was nice to hear it again.
The following wait in the waiting room is quite excruciating and David grips onto your hand as your knee bounces anxiously. Smiling sheepishly, you try to quit the knee bouncing, but it starts back up moments later.
When your name is finally called, you drag David with you into the back room. Hand in hand, you enter the doctor's main office and only have to wait another hand full of minutes. Your doctor's expression is quite unreadable and even David's knee starts to bounce anxiously, but when she beams at you, you break down.
Remission. You are in complete remission.
Your face is in your hands as you sob, David's rubbing your back, and it takes you a moment to calm down. Then when you're finally able to control yourself and glance up, even the doctor is teary-eyed. She tells you that all tests and scans came back clean, but she'd still like to see you every three months to make sure nothing suddenly pops back up. You're more than okay with that and after gathering some paperwork, and standing up to hug your doctor, you and David are soon on your way.
Outside the office building, you and David stare at one another before he opens his arms and you throw yourself at him. He's laughing, you're crying and laughing, and the two of you just hug it out far longer than a hug should last.
"So who are we telling first?" He wonders, grinning.
"Jeff. Definitely Jeff," you say. "He was the first to know I had cancer, so he should the first- well, second now- to know I'm in remission."
"Well alright then. But just so you know, I'm recording their reactions."
You laugh. "Of course you are."
#fanficimagery#imagine#vlog squad imagine#vlog squad x reader#vlog squad#jeff wittek imagine#david dobrik imagine#jeff wittek#david dobrik#heath hussar#zane hijazi#erin gilfoy#mariah amato#jason nash#natalie mariduena#matt king#toddy smith#todd smith#carly incontro
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Golden Rings 17: A Name
The Storybrooke sequel to Golden Cuffs
Mrs. Gold revisits her past
Read on AO3
Mrs. Gold looked on in mute horror as Hunter Duke dumped more hot sauce on his triple bacon hamburger. He’d asked Ruby to give him three meat patties with no bun and steamed broccoli instead of fries. When Mrs. Gold had questioned that lunch choice, he had explained his new diet to her.
At length.
Hunter had always been the kind of boy who thought meat and spicy food were substitutes for a personality. He’d been the star athlete at Storybrooke High, taking home championships in football and wrestling. He’d been popular with everyone--except for the one girl he’d arbitrarily decided was the hottest girl in school. That girl, the valedictorian, hadn’t given the quarterback the time of day. Not until she lost her scholarship and suddenly dating the son of a lawyer sounded like the way to the best future she would ever get.
“They do the burgers way too overdone here,” Hunter said with his mouth full. “You don’t get enough protein if it isn’t bloody.”
Mrs. Gold shrugged and took a bite of her own burger. It needed more pickles, but it was still amazing. Toasted bun, crisp lettuce, a patty that was juicy but not messy. She hadn’t had a Granny’s burger in forever. When she was a kid, her parents had taken her out for burgers every Friday night after their shop closed. Mom would bring her own supply of extra-zesty mustard and Dad…
She set her bun on her plate. On those idyllic, bygone Friday nights, her father would spend the whole meal grumbling about money and expenses and couldn’t they have eaten at home? Mom had always told him to stop worrying and enjoy the moment. It was the end of another week and they were together, happy and healthy. She’d calmed him down and kept him focused, every time there was a crisis.
Until they faced the biggest crisis of their lives.
Mrs. Gold blinked out of her thoughts. For some reason, Hunter was still talking. Maybe it looked like she was listening. She’d gotten good at that when they had dated. Now that she was listening for real, she tried to catch up.
“I keep telling my dad he needs to just change the sign. ‘Duke & Duke & Duke’ has a great ring to it, right? Or he could for ‘Duke & Sons.’ I don’t mind sharing the spotlight with Steven. Or he could leave the sign as it is and retire! ‘Duke & Duke’ is classic, everyone knows we’re the best bankruptcy lawyers in town. Just let my brother be the first Duke and I’ll be second Duke and we’ll take this firm into the future! But Dad keeps brushing me off for some reason.”
Mrs. Gold took a sip of iced tea and desperately wished it was something stronger. “Did you… go to law school?”
She had the oddest feeling that she couldn’t remember how long they had been out of high school. All she knew for sure was that Hunter had enrolled at Storybrooke Community College--and she hadn’t. It was possible that he had gotten his bachelor’s. As Hunter was fond of saying, “Cs get degrees.” But SCC didn’t have a graduate program. Had he taken more classes on the internet? Or correspondence courses? It boggled her mind to think of Hunter of all people had gotten a law degree during the years she’d been Mr. Gold’s stupid slut.
“Well actually,” he explained, “you don’t need to go to law school to take the bar exam. I’ve got a bachelor’s in poli-sci and I’ve been around lawyers all my life. My dad knows everyone at the state bar. He’ll pull some strings and I’ll be all set.”
Mrs. Gold stabbed her straw at the ice cubes in her glass. It was so fucking unfair. Hunter was an idiot child who had never worked for anything in his life. His father--Richard “Big Dick” Duke--had bought him a Humvee when he turned sixteen, a speedboat when he graduated high school, and a college education just because no son of his wasn’t going to go to college. Now he would give his son the bar exam and a ready job and everything he would need for a future, without Hunter ever having to grow up past the maturity level of a toddler.
She’d lost her virginity to this boy. One summer night after senior year, in the back seat of that gas-guzzling monstrosity. They’d been dating for a while and Hunter had been perfectly content with her amateurish attempts at blowing him. But for her, the novelty had begun to wear off. So she’d suggested that he “put it in” instead. It was mostly a way for him to get his rocks off while she could just lie back and think of something more interesting.
Her memories of that night were dark and cramped and disappointing. She kept her shoes and her bra on the whole time. When Hunter was done, she had been more confused than anything else. This is what people made such a big deal about? Wasn’t sex supposed to be better than that?
It wasn’t until later, with Mr. Gold, that she had understood what people were talking about in romance novels.
But now that things were so strained with her husband, she found herself thinking back to the only other sexual partner she’d ever had. Looking at Hunter now, she had to remind herself of how bad things had been that summer, when he had been a welcome distraction. Hunter hadn’t wanted to talk about doctors’ appointments or shop inventory or arguing with financial aid departments--every fight a losing battle. All he wanted to do was drink, screw around, and have fun, and he welcomed her along for the ride.
I thought he would help us. I was wrong. He wasn’t what I needed.
Mrs. Gold shook the thought out of her head. The thought was true, but she recognized it as not being her own, so she talked over it.
“Have you been hanging out with any of the old gang? Sean or Jesse or anyone?”
It had been exciting to be included with the rich kids, to feel like she belonged in the world of the young and the reckless--people who didn’t have to worry about things because their parents would always be around to bail them out. They could do whatever they wanted because the world belonged to them.
Hunter shrugged. “Jesse’s an idiot, so no change there. But Sean’s been such a pussy ever since Ashley had her baby.”
Ashely Boyd had been in that group with her. Rich boys liked running around with poor girls because they were easier to impress than the rich girls. New Town young ladies also had parents who bought them cars for their sixteenth birthdays. They didn’t need to rely on spoiled boys to pay their way every time they went out, so they didn’t have to go along with whatever stupidity the boys came up with. Mrs. Gold had taken a lot of risks just so Hunter would keep thinking she was interesting.
But Ashley had loved Sean for more than his money and toys. All she ever wanted was for him to love her back and stay with her. Once, Mrs. Gold had thought Ashley was stupid for pining so hard after a boy who would never commit. But now she had a little more sympathy.
“What happened with Sean?”
“Mr. Herman kicked him out, cut him off. Now he’s living at Ashley’s place, working his ass off at the fish factory.”
“The cannery,” Mrs. Gold corrected quietly. Fish King Canned Foods was always hiring. It was always looking for people who could stand waist-deep in ice and fish guts for twelve hour shifts, operating machinery that could cut through a human hand as easily as it did a whole herring. Her cousin Andrew had gotten a job right out of high school. Her Uncle Peter had worked there for twenty years before he died.
“Like I said, he’s a total pussy now. All he does is work and hang out with Ashley, work and take care of the baby, work and sleep. You know he asked her to marry him a couple days ago? Utterly whipped.”
“Wow,” she said.
She had never respected Sean Herman, so it was weird to think of him actually growing up. People didn’t usually change around Storybrooke. But now the spoiled party boy was taking responsibility for his child and the woman who loved him. He had given up his own wealth and family status because he loved a penniless girl from Old Town.
It was impressive.
She finished her burger while Hunter started another monologue, this time about all the fat, lazy, poor people who came to his father’s office to declare bankruptcy. Forget being a lawyer, he should go into talk radio.
“I did ask you to lunch for a reason.” She grabbed her chance to talk while he was taking a breath.
“Oh yeah?” Hunter wiped hot sauce off his face with the back of his hand. “What’s up?”
“You know a lot of people,” Mrs. Gold said. “I was wondering if you might know somebody that I don’t.”
He slurped up the dregs of his diet soda. “Yeah? Who?”
Mrs. Gold gripped the edge of the table and desperately hoped he wouldn’t notice how hard it was for her to say this. The gold of her wedding ring was dull on this cloudy afternoon. “I… just have a name right now. I think it’s a woman named Belle.”
She could see the wheels in his head turning as he thought. “Belle? Hmm. I don’t know.”
“She’s probably young. Maybe our age. Maybe younger. Or older? Maybe she’s one of your mom’s friends or something?”
A woman as old as Karen Duke would still be younger than Mr. Gold. Maybe he was looking for more maturity now. In the days since she found out about Belle, Mrs. Gold had been racking her brain to try to imagine what kind of person she was. She was only moderately sure that Belle even was a woman. If Mr. Gold wanted this Belle person more than he wanted his own wife, she was probably the opposite of her in some crucial way.
Hunter made a face and scratched the back of his head. “Nah, I got nothing. Sorry.”
“Yeah,” Mrs. Gold looked down at her empty plate. “I’m not surprised.”
Seeing that they were both done with their food, Ruby came up to the table. “Now is this gonna be one check or two?”
It was almost funny how quickly Hunter looked to Mrs. Gold. He panicked at the thought of paying for his own lunch. Daddy must not be giving him an allowance anymore.
“You invited me,” he said, almost chiding her with the reminder of how things worked.
“Yeah, that was my first mistake.” Mrs. Gold took the check from Ruby and pulled out her purse.
A fifty would be enough to pay for two hamburgers and Ruby’s discretion. Not that Mrs. Gold was being particularly sneaky, arranging lunch with her ex-boyfriend at the most popular restaurant in town. But that didn’t matter either. She could take Hunter to the pawn shop and bang him in front of the cash register and Mr. Gold wouldn’t give a fuck.
And neither would she.
****
Wandering listlessly up and down Main Street, Mrs. Gold tried to keep warm. The clouds were dark and heavy with more snow. The sidewalks were shoveled, but there was always a residue of dirty slush. It was the time of year when trash kept showing up in the streets, no matter how many anti-littering signs Mayor Mills put up.
Mrs. Gold’s suede boots were more fashionable than sturdy. The same could be said for her coat, scarf, and hat. The cold seeped through her flimsy layers, until she was nothing but numb and damp, until it was hard to breathe, until she was so desperate to be warm again she resolved to go into the next open store, no matter which one it was.
Sugar’n’Spice was always warm and it always smelled good. Mara Trudine burned a different scented candle every day the shop was open. Today the candle was cinnamon and cloves. The whole place smelled like cider.
Mrs. Gold entered as quietly as she could. She hadn’t been in the store since before Christmas. And she had never walked through that door without strutting proudly, loudly announcing her intentions to buy whatever lingerie it would take to drive Mr. Gold wild.
Was Mr. Gold even capable of going wild for her anymore? Or did the sight of her just turn his stomach? He thought she was trash, she disgusted him, he didn’t want her and he never would again.
Ducking behind a rack of silky robes, Mrs. Gold took a breath to calm herself down. It was a bad habit she’d developed lately, thinking of the worst-case scenario just to make herself feel something. Her mind kept poking and prodding at her pain, pulling out her darkest fears and putting them front and center. She could push it away if she concentrated. If she tried to act normal, she could almost feel normal. Sometimes.
“Oh hey.” Mara had spotted her from the sales counter in the back of the shop. “Mrs. Gold, I didn’t see you come in.”
Steeling herself, Mrs. Gold walked out from behind the robes. “That’s me.” She tried to smile.
Mara stayed where she was. Bits of fabric were spread out over the counter. It looked like she was sewing something.
Mrs. Gold’s heart skipped a beat. The fabric was a shiny yellow-gold. Sometimes, when Mr. Gold was really pleased with her, he liked her to wear that color. Without thinking about what she was doing, she began to walk towards the counter.
“What are you working on?”
Mara looked up from her needle. Even after all these years, she had the same face she’d had as a kid--sharp brown eyes, adorably crooked smile, freckles all over her round cheeks. She looked so innocent. You’d never think she made a living off of unmentionables.
“Custom order,” she said proudly. “I’ve been trying to get tailor-made lingerie off the ground for as long as I can remember. Got my first order in October and more have been coming in.” She held up the fabric and Mrs. Gold saw a pair of panties that would go up to a person’s rib cage.
“Somebody wants that?”
Mara’s excitement dimmed in the face of Mrs. Gold’s skepticism, but she did her best to explain. “It’s shapewear,” she said. “See the reinforced panels? The idea is to smooth out tummy rolls and make a more flattering silhouette.”
Mrs. Gold looked over at the rack of Spanx. “Don’t you already sell that?”
“Yeah, but the stuff I make is sturdier than the mass-produced product. Better for people with non-standard bodies. And prettier too. Nothing over there comes in straw yellow.”
It was true. Most of the stuff in that section was nude or black. Mrs. Gold knew a thing or two about wearing corsets, but she had never actually needed one. She had thought Mr. Gold liked her to be skinny.
“That is a pretty color,” she said. “Who’s it for?”
Mara looked at her dubiously. “I can’t talk about a client, it’s confidential.”
“How are you planning on getting more orders without word of mouth?”
“Well, normally word of mouth comes from customers talking about the product, not a creator talking about their customers.”
Falling into old habits, Mrs. Gold tilted her head back as her voice went up an octave. “I know, but it’s just such a pretty shade of gold, I was wondering if someone special might have ordered it...?”
She let the question hang. Mara just frowned and shook her head.
“Come on, you’re smarter than that.” She held up the garment again. “This is for a plus-sized woman. Two of you could fit in here without straining the elastic. Mr. Gold didn’t order this for you.”
Without thinking, she leaned over the counter and got in her friend’s face. “Did he order it for someone else?”
Mara’s eyes went wide. Her mouth transformed into a tiny little O of surprise. Mrs. Gold pulled away and kept her eyes on the ground.
“I’m sorry,” Mrs. Gold said. “That was out of line.”
“Wow,” Mara said softly. “I, uh, I’d heard that something had happened. But I didn’t know it was that bad. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, me too.” She turned around, pretended to look at something lacy until the urge to scream had passed. When she glanced at Mara, her brown eyes were trained on her.
“It’s not from him,” she said simply. “I’ll even tell you that my client paid with a credit card, so it was definitely her own money.”
Or maybe Mr. Gold was just covering his tracks. But at least he hadn’t called in the order himself. At least he wasn’t flaunting his disregard for her.
“Does he… Have you ever heard from him? Is he buying anybody lingerie?”
Mara shook her head. “I only see him on Rent Day.”
With nothing left to lose, she asked her old friend the same question she’d asked her ex-boyfriend. “Do you know anybody named Belle?”
Mara blinked. “I don’t… think so. The name sounds familiar, but I’m probably thinking of a character from a book or a movie. It’s not the sort of name you hear around Storybrooke.”
“No,” Mrs. Gold agreed.
“But I’ll keep my ears open, if you want.”
Mrs. Gold raised her eyebrows. “What about client confidentiality?”
“Well, whoever Belle is, she’s definitely not a client. And until Mr. Gold pays me himself, neither is he.”
You’re a good friend.
This time, Mrs. Gold didn’t swat at the thought that intruded into her head. She let it rest over her brain like a blanket. She let the thought warm her up.
She leaned against the counter and watched Mara work. The shapewear was fully constructed, and she was embroidering stalks of straw in a pattern along the sides. It was really pretty. The sort of thing that would give a girl a boost in confidence and excitement about her own body, her own clothes. Mrs. Gold remembered how fancy she’d felt the first time she wore something as simple as a bra and panties that were the same color. That sort of energy could get people through interviews or contract negotiations, any time you needed to feel powerful. Mara was helping people here, she was good at it, and it seemed to make her happy.
“So, business is good?”
“Yeah, it’s picking up. Valentine’s Day was a madhouse, but you know how that goes.”
Mrs. Gold nodded. Lingerie could be as popular as flowers when it came to last-minute gifts that men always thought would be cheaper than they were.
“Did you spend the day with anyone?”
Mara scrunched her nose. “I’m working too hard for that. Besides, I don’t meet a lot of single men in this business.”
She was able to snicker at the joke, and she was able to mean it. “Yeah, I guess not.”
They were quiet together for a minute, then Mrs. Gold asked a more personal question: “How’s your mom?”
Mara looked up from her embroidery for a second, but then went back to work. “She’s fine. I think she’s bored, now that the preschool is only open for half-days. She keeps asking me to move in with her.”
“I take it you don’t want to?”
A halfhearted shrug. “I don’t have a good reason not to. It would make sense, we could split the bills and keep each other company. But there is also something really nice about living by yourself. Even if it’s just a one bedroom apartment on top of your store.”
“I wouldn’t know.” Mrs. Gold drummed her fingers against the counter. She had gone from living with her father to living with Mr. Gold. The night after their anniversary had been the first time she had slept in any building by herself.
But she understood what Mara meant. When you lived with your parents, it was hard to feel like an adult. To make matters worse, Irma Trudine--Mara’s mother--had been a preschool teacher for as long as anyone could remember. She tended to treat everyone she talked to like they were a four-year-old whining for more juice and crackers.
Mama’s closest friend.
Now the voice was annoying her again. It was true that Irma and Mom had been good friends. That was why she had grown up with Mara as much as she had grown up with her cousin Janine. The three girls were inseparable, just like their mothers had been.
Until…
Mrs. Gold sighed. She was warmer now. She should probably buy something before she moved along.
“Do you have anything comfy around here?”
“What, like no underwire?”
“No, like pajamas, I guess. Or loungewear? I think I need to get a pair of sweatpants.”
Mara grinned. “The last time I saw you wear sweatpants, they had dinosaurs on them.”
“And they were fucking awesome.”
She had gotten those pants for her eighth birthday and worn them until the knees gave out. Even after that, Mom had cut them up for shorts and she’d worn them for another six months. If she could find sweatpants that had dinosaurs on them now, she wouldn’t think the mere act of wearing sweatpants was a sign of the end of her life.
But Sugar’n’Spice only had pajama sets with flowers on them--or hearts, but Mrs. Gold couldn’t bring herself to buy anything that looked like love. It was enough to buy comfort, something that would make it a little easier to be in her own skin.
Mara rang her up and gracefully accepted the extra fifty Mrs. Gold handed her.
“How about I call this a down payment on a custom order for you?”
Taking her bag, Mrs. Gold shrugged. “I don’t think Mr. Gold will want me in lingerie for a long time.”
“I didn’t say it was for Mr. Gold, I said it was for you.” Mara looked her steadily in the eye. “Come back some time and we can talk about what you need. Okay?”
She opened her mouth, and then closed it. “Yeah,” she said at last. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
“Good.”
****
The day wasn’t over. Mr. Gold was still in his shop. She could go there for a few hours of awkward silence. Or she could go back to the house, for a few hours of lonely silence. Then he would come home and make dinner. They would eat together and make stilted small talk. And then she would go to her bedroom, and he would go to his.
That was their life now.
He said he wanted her to stay. He said he wanted to take care of her. He said he loved somebody else.
It didn’t make sense. It was wrong. They were supposed to be together. Being near him, but not being with him, trying to act like everything was fine, trying to act like he didn’t matter to her as much as she obviously didn’t matter to him…
It was tearing her apart.
So she walked. Like a circling shark, she kept moving so she wouldn’t drown. She was trapped. Storybrooke was a small town, there were only so many places you could go in one day. And she had lots of days ahead of her. Mrs. Gold had the image of the rest of her life, stretching out to the horizon. She would have to keep walking, she would never be able to rest. She would never have a home again.
She was in Old Town now. The flower shop was behind her. Aunt Teri’s yellow and purple house was on this street. How many times had she walked the route between those two places? Her whole childhood, her whole life until she married Mr. Gold and moved into his house. She used to belong in this neighborhood.
Was there a way she could belong here again?
Turning at the plastic sign that said Hair Today! she went to the side door of the yellow house and knocked. Then she stepped away from the door and waited for an answer. She held herself against the cold.
Janine came up from the basement salon. Her mouth opened when she saw Mrs. Gold.
“Oh hi,” she said. “Mrs. Gold, you don’t… usually knock.”
“Yeah, I’m usually a bitch to you and I’m sorry.” She hadn’t meant to start that way, but she couldn’t avoid the truth anymore.
Janine’s eyebrows raised and her sky-blue eyes--a family trait--went wide. “O...kay,” she said slowly. Stepping outside, she shut the door behind her. The cold made her keep her arms crossed over her chest. “What’s going on?”
“I…” She didn’t know what to say. She had started, but what was the next step? “Things suck, right now, for me. And I kind of suck too. And I realized…”
What had she realized? That no one in her family would help her in an emergency? That she had built her whole identity around one relationship and without that she had nothing? That she had spent years intentionally, maliciously, pushing away all the people that had loved her in exchange for a man who only paid her? That all of those things were really fucking shitty? None of that was a realization. Mrs. Gold had always known what her life was. But she was just now starting to care.
“I realized I’m sorry,” she said. “For as long as I’ve been with Mr. Gold, I’ve been so caught up in him and it made me a worse person. And I want to be better.” She looked at Janine. “You deserve a better cousin.”
Janine sighed, her breath visible in the twilight. “So the honeymoon is finally over, huh? Are you tired of him or is he tired of you?”
Mrs. Gold pressed her lips together. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. At the same time, she didn’t begrudge her cousin the snark.
“He’s tired of me,” she admitted softly. “And I’m kind of tired of me too.”
Now Janine looked more sympathetic. “What happened?”
“You didn’t hear? I thought everyone in Storybrooke knew by now.”
“Yeah, no, I’ve heard a lot of rumors. But I’m asking you what happened. What’s the truth?”
“He loves someone else.” The words slipped from her mouth like a burden off her shoulders. “Some Belle person. And like, like he loves her, Janine. More than he ever loved me.”
“Oof,” Janine let out a long breath. “Oh honey, that’s terrible. I’m sorry.”
Until now, Janine had been standing in the doorway, and Mrs. Gold had been in the driveway, with about five feet between them. Janine stepped out first, one arm open in invitation. The two cousins met in the middle. They didn’t hug, exactly, but they huddled together for warmth and comfort.
“Do you need to stay with us?” Janine asked. “We never did anything with Andrew’s room after--”
“No,” she shook her head. Mr. Gold asked her to stay with him, and even that had to be better than sleeping in her dead cousin’s bedroom. “I’m fine, I… He’s taking care of me.”
“What, like alimony?”
“No, we’re not… I’m not leaving him.”
Janine pulled away. “But you said he loved someone else.”
She nodded. “He does, but he doesn’t want the marriage to be over.”
There was a moment of silence while Janine’s face twisted in anger and disbelief. Then she burst out: “Oh screw him! Does he really get to decide that? That man is cheating on you and you don’t even get the satisfaction of walking away? Come on!”
Mrs. Gold couldn’t look her in the face. “It’s not as simple as that,” she said. “I--I married him, I need him, I…” The next words were small and soft: “I don’t want the marriage to be over either.”
Closing her eyes, Janine pressed the heel of her palm to her forehead. “I don’t know what to say,” she said. “I mean, the sanctity of marriage is great and all, but Mr. Gold has been nothing but bad to you for so long. And now you have a reason to get out, but you’re not taking it? Why?”
“Because this is different,” she said the words before she knew what they meant. “He’s different than he was when we got married. There’s something… good about him now. Something kind and gentle. Something that wasn’t there before.”
Janine rolled her eyes. “So now you have feelings for the monster?”
“He’s not a monster now. Maybe he was before--I can see that more clearly now. But now the only thing he’s doing wrong is… not wanting me. And it hurts, but it’s not an evil thing.”
He’s my husband and I love him. Can you understand that?
Shifting her weight back and forth, Janine kept her arms over her chest. “And he’s not… hurting you anymore?”
She shook her head. “Not even in a way I like.”
“Gross,” Janine said, matter-of-factly. “I mean, good for you that it used to be something you liked, but it is very gross for me to think about. Too much information is a very real thing.”
Both of them snickered at that. The years of lingering tension eased a little more.
“Can you at least stay for dinner? We’re having Spaghetti-Os a la Chloe.”
“Chloe’s cooking?” How old was she now?
“It was her idea. Under careful supervision, she is going to dump a can of Spaghetti-Os into a pot and warm it up. Mom might even let her into the spice cabinet for some basil.”
“Oh, that sounds like fun.” She shuffled her feet. “But I should get going. I still eat with Mr. Gold. It’s… weird.”
“I bet.” Janine put her hands in the pockets of her work smock. “Listen, I… I’m sorry. All this time… I could have been a better cousin too. We--I think the general idea was that… we were waiting for you to meet us halfway.”
“I get that,” she said. “And I never came close to halfway. Not with anybody.”
“Well, you did today. And I’m glad. We missed you.”
Nodding, she tried to keep the tears out of her eyes. All this time, she could have had her family. If she had just eased up on being Mrs. Gold, she could have been the same girl everyone had loved.
“I’m trying to make things better now, you know?”
Janine nodded. “I know.” They were quiet for a minute, then she asked. “Have you talked to your dad lately?”
“Not yet,” she shook her head. “Not him or Uncle Manny. I… I kinda thought I’d start easy.”
Janine half-smiled, half-winced. “Manny will be happy to see you. You’re the only niece he’s got.”
She snorted. “I’m the only daughter my dad has and that didn’t make anything any easier.”
“He loves you, Lacey,” Janine said. It was the first time Mrs. Gold had heard her first name in as long as she could remember. “We all do.”
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fire Meet Gasoline: Chapter 4
chapter rating: mature
story rating: explicit
pairing: morgan/m!oc (tanner drake) & farah/f!oc (sadie kennedy)
word count: ~3k
chapter warnings: none
story warnings: eventual smut, canon-typical violence, au - canon divergent
read it on ao3 here
--
She'd expected him to dress down a little, seeing that they are likely venturing into a sewer this morning. But all that's missing is his jacket; he's still wearing his usual long sleeve dress shirt and vest though his sleeves have been partially folded back, revealing the smallest glimpse of a tattoo on the outside of his right forearm.
"You know you're probably going to get covered in crap, right?"
"Wrong. But if you want to keep doubting me, go right ahead," he grins an obnoxiously cocky grin at her before turning and heading around the warehouse towards the sewers.
It’s the darkest part of morning, the soft glow of sunlight only just beginning to peek over the horizon and she’s grateful that she doesn’t need light to see where she’s going, because if she did she’d be about screwed. Surprisingly, Tanner doesn’t seem to need it either. Whether it’s because he has above average eyesight himself or if he’s just used to reading the environment around him she’s not sure, but she guesses it's the latter. He has to be at least somewhat perceptive to be good enough at finding people to have caught the Agency’s attention. And as far as she knows, nephilims don’t possess any especially advanced abilities beyond their strength and speed.
She reluctantly falls into step beside him, the tattoo on his arm catching her attention again as they walk.
"What's that?" she asks eventually, curiosity getting the better of her.
"A tattoo," he deadpans.
"I'd worked that much out."
"You asked," he gives a shrug and she waits for him to say more, but apparently he's done talking.
"So one of your parents was an angel, right?"
He frowns over at her, "I didn't realise we were taking part in a team bonding exercise."
"Forget it, I'm not that interested," she doesn't even know why she has questions in the first place, let alone why she's bothering to ask them. Probably she just wants to know who she's venturing into the sewers with.
He lets out a sigh and she sees him cast a sideways glance at her. "My Dad."
"So do you have wings or something?"
"I do," he answers distractedly, his focus clearly on their surroundings rather than her.
"Really?"
"Do you have fangs?" he snaps at her, and she rolls her eyes. Fine. He doesn't want to talk, then they won't talk.
It doesn't take them long to reach the sewers, making it less plausible in her eyes that they're going to find anyone here. If there was a demon hanging around so close to them, they would've caught its scent by now.
His hand shoots out to get a tight grip on her arm as she starts to step out of the trees and he yanks her backwards roughly, making her stumble back against him. His arms wrap around her waist from behind both to steady her and hold her still, and when he leans down to shush her right against her ear a shiver runs up and down her spine.
She does as he says though, staying perfect still and quiet and definitely not thinking about how his arms feel around her or how the steady beat of his heart against her back makes her realise that he's having a far bigger effect on her than she is on him.
She's just about to ask him what they're waiting for when he lifts one arm and points in the direction of the main part of town where, sure enough, a tall, scrawny and scruffy looking man is skulking towards the sewer entrance.
"Told you so," his whisper is laced with a very subtle hint of sing song mocking, his chin just about resting on her shoulder for a moment before he lets go of her and steps away.
"Alright so what's…" she trails off as he steps out of the trees and walks straight towards the guy, throwing her arms out to the sides in exasperation as she finishes her sentence to herself, "the plan?"
She watches as Tanner strolls towards the alleged demon, who looks at him in confusion for a moment before recognition dawns on his face and he tries to make a run for it. Morgan readies herself to give chase, but Tanner's too fast anyway and wraps an arm tightly around his shoulders to keep him by his side as he walks him over to her.
His hand shifts to the back of the demon's neck, holding on so tight that Morgan can see his fingers digging into the skin. He pushes him towards her as though holding a stuffed animal out for her to inspect and raises an eyebrow. "Well? Ask your questions, we don't have all day."
"Don't we?"
"Well I don’t know about you, but I don’t have all day."
She scowls at him before returning her attention back to the demon.
“You’re working with a group of people, who and where are they?”
He just sneers at her before spitting at her feet, and Tanner lifts his free hand to smack him across the back of the head.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m not working with anyone.”
“You’re lying,” she glances at Tanner, who whacks him again before letting go of the back of his neck and taking hold of his wrists, holding them tightly behind the demon’s back.
“I’d tell her the truth if I were you,” he says in a low voice, and the demon scoffs and looks over his shoulder at him.
“I’ve heard about you. Heard that you don't play nice with others," he glances pointedly at Morgan, but Tanner just chuckles.
"Neither does she, so imagine how pissed off we both are already."
“Just cut the crap and tell me why you’re here,” Morgan butts in, and the demon glares back over at her.
“Why don’t you make me, little girl?”
Morgan huffs and steps closer, wrapping a hand around the demon’s neck while Tanner keeps his hands restrained behind him. She stares at him for a moment, a frown of concentration on her face before speaking again. “What do you want in Wayhaven?”
The demon sputters for a moment before answering, “word’s gotten ‘round about a human here, their blood can boost supernatural’s abilities.”
“How many of you are there?"
“Look, I’m just a scout, alright? I’ve only met with one other guy but I assume there’s a whole bunch of them.” Morgan glances up at Tanner with a frown, who just looks back at her with complete disinterest and shrugs.
“Who’s the one other guy you’ve met and where can we find him?”
“I only know him by Axle, he’s usually hanging out in a bar in the city.” Her hopes to be done with this mission and Tanner as quickly as possible instantly fade away, and judging by the look on his face, Tanner feels exactly the same way as they realise simultaneously that this means they’re going to have to travel to the city together.
“What bar?”
“Shakers.” Tanner sighs and releases the demon’s hands, and the guy slaps Morgan’s hand away from his neck and glares between them, rubbing at his sore wrists. “We done here?”
Morgan doesn’t answer, just waves a hand dismissively, her gaze focused on Tanner as the demon turns and jogs away from them, disappearing into the sewers.
“You know what this means, right?” she asks, and he rolls his eyes before turning and stalking back in the direction of the warehouse.
“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters in response.
--
Well. This is beyond irritating and quite frankly Tanner isn't finding it entertaining in the slightest anymore. He moodily trudges along beside Morgan, flexing his hands and then clenching them into fists over and over and glaring at nothing in particular and going over in his mind how he's going to track down Helk now so that he can get the hell out of here and the hell away from Unit Bravo.
“Well?” Adam asks before they’ve even made it all the way into the common room where the rest of the vampires are waiting for them when they return.
“We got a vague name and a vague location somewhere in the city,” Morgan answers, taking up her usual spot in the shadowed corner and leaning against the small table there.
“So when do you leave?”
“Uh, excuse me, what?” Tanner cuts in before Morgan can answer, and Adam turns to frown at him. “I’m not going into the city with her.”
“Yes. You are,” Adam turns away from him to address the rest of the group but Tanner steps forward, irritation taking over him. He sees Farah’s eyes widen when he places a hand on Adam’s shoulder and turns him towards him again. Adam’s eyes narrow and he pointedly looks down at Tanner’s hand on his shoulder before turning his harsh gaze up to his face.
“You’re not my commanding agent.”
“You were assigned to work with us, so at the moment I am.”
“I did what I was assigned to do.”
Adam finally shrugs his hand off of him when it becomes obvious that Tanner’s not going to move it himself. “You were assigned to assist Morgan in finding this group. You have found one person and a possible location of another.”
Tanner glares at him, his fingers fidgeting at his sides as he considers the repercussions of telling Adam to shove it up his ass and leaving anyway, but decides that the risk of being caught and disciplined by the Agency are too great.
“I guess we’re leaving now, then,” he huffs in obvious annoyance, starting out of the room before turning to raise an eyebrow at Morgan. “You coming?”
She glances at Adam who gives a single nod and she sighs loudly before pushing herself off of the table and following Tanner out the door.
“I gotta make a quick stop before we leave town,” he tells her moodily as he stalks through the halls and out of the warehouse, and Morgan jogs to catch up with him and catches his arm to stop him. It doesn’t work, but he does slow down a little and glance over at her.
“Adam’s not gonna be happy if he finds out you’re running personal errands on a mission.”
“Adam’s never happy,” he answers bluntly, shaking her hand off of his arm.
It’s not ideal, but he can make this work for him. If he’s going to be forced to work with a vampire then he might as well get some use out of her. She can help him find Helk before they leave for the city, because there’s not a hope in hell that he’s leaving this sad little town without the things he came here for in the first place.
“You still after this goblin or whatever?”
“Yes.”
“Why so eager to find him?”
“Because he has my rings and I need them back.”
She’s quiet for a moment before replying, “what’s so special about them?”
He turns to face her with what’s almost a low growl, narrowing his eyes at her. “They’re mine.”
“Yeah, but do they do anything?”
“Two of them do,” he’s growing increasingly annoyed with the relentless questioning.
“And the rest?”
“The rest are none of your fucking business.”
“I think if you’re planning on roping me into helping you get them back then it kind of is my business.”
He rolls his eyes and starts walking again, not bothering to check if she’s following before calling back over his shoulder, “no one’s making you hang about, sunshine.”
It takes a minute but he hears her jogging again to catch back up with him, and he glances over at her when she falls back into step beside him. “Do you have any ideas where he is?”
“I think so.”
“Then let’s get it over with so we can get back to work.”
He doesn’t reply, a little surprised that she’s agreed to help him so easily but mostly because he doesn’t want to appear too grateful for her agreement. She already knows that he wants them back, she doesn’t need to know how desperately.
--
Even she can barely keep up with how efficiently he can get information out of people and how quickly he can put the pieces together and work out exactly where someone is. It’s actually quite impressive, not that she’d ever tell him that.
She spends the rest of the morning tailing him, watching him work his charms on several of the shopkeepers and workers of Wayhaven, getting snippets of information from each of them about a strange man that none of them recognise wandering about town, until they make it to their last stop; a jewellery store at the end of the main street.
Apparently a “funny looking little man” who had introduced himself as Bill had been here only an hour before them, claiming that he had some rings for sale and had gone home to retrieve them and bring them back to be valued.
“Maybe he has something closer to what we’re looking for, darling,” it takes her a moment to realise that he’s talking to her, and she blinks up at him while he watches her expectantly. After a few seconds he gives up and subtly rolls his eyes at her. “Come on, we’ll have a look around while we wait.”
She tenses when he slings an arm over her shoulders and leads her away from the cashier and to the other side of the store, glancing over his shoulder before moving behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist to lean down closer to her ear.
“Thought you’d be better at role play than this,” he murmurs, and she slaps at his hands until he lets go of her.
“I’m better at it when I know it’s coming. What, you’re just gonna wait here for him?”
“Yep.”
Before she can launch into a speech about how stupid his plan is, the bell at the door rings and she looks over to see a small and dreadfully ugly man walk into the store holding a small black velvet bag.
“Is that him?” Tanner asks her, giving her an irritating ���told you so’ smirk and she shrugs.
“How the hell am I supposed to know?” She turns to face Tanner, her eyes on the man as he suddenly turns and looks at them, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. “He’s watching us.”
Tanner lets out a barely audible but obviously frustrated groan before pushing her away from him and spinning around.
“Bill, is it?” There’s no small amount of sarcasm in his voice, and the goblin’s eyes widen as he almost drops the small bag that he’s holding.
“Tanner!” he exclaims, slowly starting to back up towards the door.
“I believe you have some things of mine in there,” Tanner gestures to the bag but barely makes it one step closer to him before who is now obviously Helk turns tail and takes off out the door and down the street.
“Oh for fuck sake,” Tanner mutters before starting out after him, but before he even makes it onto the street Morgan is chasing after him on her own, and by the time Tanner gets outside she’s got a hold of the goblin’s arm and is leaning against the wall waiting for him.
Tanner grins at her and gives a nod of appreciation as he calmly walks over to them and holds his hand out. “My rings?”
“I- um. I was gonna give the important ones back, I swear.”
“They’re all important.”
“I thought there was only those two that-”
“You thought wrong, now give them back.” Tanner cuts in, and Morgan wonders what the two in question are actually for and why this goblin seems to know about it while Tanner refuses to tell her.
“You don’t get it, I need the money.”
“No, you don’t get it, so let me make it clear to you. I will break a finger for every minute that goes by without you giving them back to me. Starting now.”
“Tanner, wait,” she protests. Adam will not be pleased if he finds out they’ve injured someone for personal reasons. His gaze snaps up towards her and he nods down the street.
“You don’t like it, go and wait around the corner,” he snatches the goblins arm away from her and gives him a smile which - under a different circumstance - could be considered friendly before taking his hand in both of his and bending his pointer finger backwards.
“You should listen to your girlfriend, half-breed,” the goblin taunts, giving him a smirk and a wave of anger crashes over Morgan. She narrows her eyes and comes to stand beside Tanner, taking Helk’s other hand in hers.
“You want us to break two at a time?” she ignores the way Tanner glances over at her, something other than arrogance or annoyance on his face for once - maybe he even looks a little impressed with her - and keeps her gaze on the goblin.
“Alright, alright,” Helk snatches his hand away from her and digs into his pocket for the bag, pushing it into Tanner’s chest and shaking his hands when he gets them free. “Jeez, didn’t take you for such a sentimental little thing.”
“You want me to break your fucking hand anyway? Piss off.” Tanner spits at him, and the goblin glances between them hesitantly for a moment before turning and taking off down the street.
“So can we get going now?” Morgan asks and he gives a distracted nod, though it doesn’t really seem like he’s even heard her as he opens the bag and empties its contents into his palm. A small sigh of relief escapes him as he slides the rings back onto his fingers, pausing at a small and delicate looking silver band and closing his eyes for a moment before slipping it onto his pinky finger.
She decides against asking what the deal is with that ring in particular, she doesn’t care enough to be willing to deal with his attitude about it again.
“Yeah, lets go,” he finally answers, holding his hands out and looking at them with a satisfied nod before turning his attention to her. “We driving or are you just gonna run there?”
“I’m not getting in a car with you,” she retorts, and he shrugs and hands her a small scrap of paper with an address written on it before turning and walking back towards the tree line.
“Why the fuck would I drive if I don’t need to? Meet me there.” he calls over his shoulder, glancing around him carefully before a massive pair of light grey wings extend from the centre of his back and he’s gone.
--
tags (please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed): @admdmrtn @masonsfangs @oxjenayxo @mmerengue @agentsunshine @bravomckenzie @freckles-spangledvampire @mistyeyedbi @agentnolastname @kelseaaa @detectivewiseman @utterlyinevitable @masonscig
#twc writing#the wayhaven chronicles#unit bravo#a du mortain#n sewell#f hauville#twc morgan#tanner drake#sadie kennedy#fire meet gasoline#chapter update#n*fw#kat writes
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fabulous Skeletor Powers
She-Ra sings. Catra tries. Hordak prays. Entrapta says hey, what’s going on? More ‘Skeletor’ stories.
*
Catra awoke from a strange dream of She-Ra singing and dancing to the soft light of dawn. She yawned and shook the sleep from her head.
Adora was next to her, snoring as loudly as a landslide. Looking down at her Catra smiled and relaxed, which was a feeling she was still getting used to, nearly a year after the end of everything.
There had been times, alone in the Horde, when she had been unable to do anything but lie in bed at night and cry, trying desperately to flush out all the thoughts running around in her head.
Now, things were different. It felt a little peculiar. On bad days she still worried that she would never be able to make up for the damage she’d done, and didn’t deserve the happiness she had now. In her better moments she was able to remember that it wasn’t really about getting or having, but about trying all the time to see and return the love that had always been there for her.
Adora snorted and rolled over. Moving carefully so as not to disturb her, Catra rose and padded to the small kitchen of their Bright Moon home. Somewhere along the way she was joined by Melog, mewling and pressing against her shins for attention. She gave it, and the space cat’s tail twitched happily.
Without really having any particular plan in mind, Catra withdrew various ingredients from the cupboards and began to fix a modest breakfast. Before she had time to make any grievous cooking errors, Adora was suddenly awake and there behind her, hugging her, smiling, correcting the wayward cat’s mistakes, and adding a healthy dose of her own.
Before long they had something made from eggs and bread and vegetables that was not only edible but downright delicious, at least compared to green ration bars. They sat at their small table and ate and laughed together while Melog lay curled at their feet and purred contentedly.
Adora appeared to be thinking about something. She had one hand thrust in her pocket and her chin rested in the other, face screwed up in careful contemplation. Finally, she seemed to come to a decision. She looked up and leaned forward with a grin. “Hey, stud,” she started.
Catra burst into laughter, cutting off whatever Adora had been about to say next. “What was that? Was that supposed to be smooth?” she cackled.
Adora tried to recover. “Hey, I’m just kidding! Yeesh!” She waved her hands defensively. “I — Look, let me try that again.”
But Catra wasn’t really listening, because it had suddenly occurred to her that between the early morning sunlight streaming in through the window, the smell of their perfect breakfast, the warm, bursting feeling in her chest, and Adora sitting right in front of her, that this moment was absolutely, stomach-turningly picturesque.
That would have made her angry before. Now she felt something else.
Adora noticed her girlfriend’s distant look and reached out for her. “Hey, what’s going on?”
“Uh, not much!” Catra stammered, suddenly aware that she needed to get something from the other room, immediately. “I’ll be right back!”
She rushed to the spot where she hid important things, reached between a small bag of catmint and a little ball with a jingle bell inside, and retrieved a tiny hinged box with Entrapta’s factory seal of approval stamped on the lid.
She stuffed it deep in one pocket and hurried back to the kitchen table, heart pounding. Adora, in the meantime, had changed her sword into a golden toy mouse on a string and was letting Melog chase it across the floor.
“Oh good, you’re back!” Adora sat up straight in her chair and brightened. “Listen, I didn't really plan to do this right now — I actually wasn’t sure when exactly I was gonna do it until right now — but I’ve been thinking about… stuff. A lot. And this morning just felt so perfect and I was so happy that I thought, hey, maybe I should take a chance and…”
She trailed off. While she was talking she had withdrawn something from her own pocket and was fidgeting nervously with it. It, too, was a very small box, red and blue-black. Almost automatically, Catra produced hers.
They looked at each other soundlessly. A great number of things were said without words.
Ultimately it didn’t matter who broke the silence first, because the conversation would have been the same either way:
“So… I have a question for you.”
“I do, too.”
“You first?”
“Together.”
*
Hordak awoke to the sound of a klaxon alarm going off. Entrapta sat up straight in bed beside him, instantly alert, eyes wide with excitement.
“It’s happening!” She cried. “Variable A has been exposed to Variable C! The reaction has begun!” She laughed, maniacal and exuberant.
Hordak arose, much more blearily than his partner, and smiled. “I was wondering when they were going to get around to that. We finished making their rings weeks ago.”
“To the observation dome!” Entrapta shouted, leaping to her feet. “For science!” She scuttled out the door and away in a blur of purple and enthusiasm. Chuckling softly, Hordak stood and followed after her.
He stepped outside of their shared room in the Crypto Castle and took a deep breath as he prepared to climb the high stairs to Entrapta’s tower lab. He liked walking them; there were faster and easier ways to the top of the tower but the plodding pattern of his footsteps helped him examine and order his thoughts.
Going up the spiral staircase always seemed like climbing a great hill. It felt good to have hope, and a destination. The closer he got to the top, the more clearly he could hear Entrapta’s cries of excitement. It was like approaching a sun. That felt good, too.
Soon enough he reached the door to the lab (it was already ajar) and gently pushed his way inside. His partner was there, at work in the center of everything, cross-legged in midair as her hair stretched in a dozen different directions.
Entrapta cooed over her scientific instruments. Hordak watched her and felt something powerful move in his chest. Happiness branched through his body and showed plainly on his face. He no longer felt the need to hide his feelings inside.
Coming out of his reverie, Hordak realized quickly that Entrapta was not the only one present. Also populating the lab were Emily, who was doing a headstand, Imp, who was egging her on by playing peppy recordings of Scorpia’s voice, and a reprogrammed Horde drone Entrapta had named ‘Skeletor,’ who was shaking his fists and yelling.
“I’m talking to you, you dimwitted duo!” Skeletor shouted at the other two. “What is it that holds your attention more than the mighty Skeletor?”
Imp blew a raspberry and Emily made a dismissive beeping noise. They returned to ignoring him.
“How you vex me,” Skeletor grumbled.
Hordak looked away from this scene and approached Entrapta. She turned and made a happy noise, reaching out to draw him closer.
Entrapta eagerly showed off her equipment. “Look, look!” She pointed to one of the screens. “This reading means that both of the ring boxes have been opened. And this one means they’re both wearing them!”
She squealed in delight and leaned into Hordak’s shoulder. “And I could’ve gotten a visual, too, but somebody said that would be rude.” She stuck her tongue out, facetiously.
“There is nothing you could not do, if you set your mind to it,” Hordak told her. He pointed to the screen. “Tell me, what do these numbers mean?”
“Heart rate and endorphin levels!” Entrapta replied, happy to explain her machinations. “And it seems like things are going well!” She looked thoughtful. “Hm. You know, I’ve never been to another princess’ wedding before. I wonder if it involves magic? Or if they’ll have tiny food? What kind of present do you think we should bring?”
“I have read about Etherian traditions regarding this institution,” Hordak said, frowning. “This is going to be… somewhat more involved than our ceremony was, isn’t it?”
“If you mean that it won’t be in a lab and there’ll be more witnesses than Imp and the robots, then yes.” Entrapta had concern in her eyes. “What’s going on? Are you worried about the crowd? I know lots of tricks for staying calm in big groups.”
Hordak shook his head. “I was more concerned about how the other guests would react to… well.” He gestured vaguely to himself. “The ones who don’t know us as well as the happy couple, I mean.”
“There’s also Wrong Hordak. And Scorpia. And Perfuma’s getting to like you, too!” Entrapta pointed out. “Plus all the clones from our therapy group. You’re kind of their hero, y’know.”
“I cannot imagine why,” Hordak said. He looked away for a moment, toward where Skeletor continued to bother Imp and Emily.
“You pathetic pair of pitiful pinheads!” Skeletor fumed. “Some day I’ll have the power to destroy you! Some day!”
Imp grumbled and rode Emily to the other side of the lab, leaving the gangly troublemaker behind. Skeletor balled his fists and whined in frustration.
Hordak pursed his lips. “And that still leaves the matter of the other princesses, not to mention the citizenry. Ever since the revolution against Prime, I’ve hoped — ”
“And he prays!” Skeletor suddenly cut in. “Myaah!”
Hordak sighed. “Yes, even that. Every day. To the planet, or whoever cares to listen, that I have not done irreparable harm to this world. Or the fellowship it is made up of. But I fear it may already be too late.”
“Let me check the data!” Entrapta flipped rapidly through her screens. “Nope, Etheria is currently stable. Elemental readings are within parameters. You’re all good!”
Hordak smiled but did not look comforted. “Damage can go deeper than data, my dear,” he said.
“Ah, you’re referring to feelings being hurt.” The princess looked pleased with herself. “Well, I’ve got metrics for that, too. Everyone at Wrong Hordak’s therapy group is now twice as likely to initiate conversations with you while we’re there. Angry glares from people on the street are down forty percent since your cleanup and reconstruction work on Beast Island and Salineas. And...”
Entrapta put her hands on her hips and drew herself up to her full five feet. “You’re my lab partner. If anyone’s got a problem with that, I’ll fight them!” She stuck out her chin and flexed her arms.
Hordak’s worried expression softened. “I am humbled by your loyalty,” he said, sincerely. Then he grew pensive again. ”Do you... ever regret it?” he asked, touching a fingertip to the crystal on his collarbone and gazing at the matching one around Entrapta’s neck.
“A stupid question!” Skeletor interrupted.
“There’s no such thing,” Entrapta retorted. She picked the robot up with her hair and deposited him elsewhere, then turned her attention back to Hordak. “And to answer yours, no I do not. That data point remains unchanged.”
She flashed her eyes flirtatiously and handed him a graph. “Endearment, concupiscence, and intellectual stimulation, however, have all increased considerably. See for yourself!”
Hordak couldn’t help but smile as he reviewed her charts. The warm feeling returned to his chest. “I cannot argue with such fine research,” he relented.
“Data doesn’t lie!” Entrapta affirmed.
“You think you’re so smart!” Skeletor griped.
Without looking around, Entrapta picked him up again and placed him by the door. While he complained, Emily and Imp shooed him the rest of the way out, the latter playing a long recording of Skeletor’s own toothless insults as they went.
“You are still the finest scientist I know,” Hordak purred. He held out a hand. “May I assist you with your work?”
Entrapta beamed. “I thought you’d never ask!” She wrapped herself around him and drew him into her world. Hordak gladly followed. Together, they learned and discovered.
It was fabulous.
“Hordak and She-Ra, both defeated in the same day!” Skeletor said. “Ha! I should come to Etheria more often!”
38 notes
·
View notes
Text
Foreshadowing (Sam Golbach Imagine)
Summary: You take some time to reflect on your relationship with Sam and realize feels familiar.
Written: 2020
Word Count: 1,485
Warnings: Fluff
Masterlist
“Do you ever have this overwhelming déjà vu feeling? But it’s not déjà vu, it’s… I don’t even know what it is.” I ask Sam randomly.
Sam looks up from his phone and raises an eyebrow at me. Which completely is valid because this is the first thing I’ve said to him in the past few hours. I came over as soon as I woke up just to have a lazy day with him. I walked into his apartment and just situated myself on his couch. We exchanged a few words, where Sam told me he had to edit part of the new Sam and Colby series so I just watched movies on my laptop while I waited.
When Sam finally came down to spend time with me, I was responding to work emails and fans. One fan asked us to do a relationship Q and A which sparked a thread of questions for us from other fans. While going through the questions and silently answering them by myself, I had this feeling like that stuff in our relationship happened before. Which is ridiculous seeing as Sam and I started dating three years ago after being friends for two years.
“What are you talking about? The fact that we’re lounging around in my apartment or something else?” Sam laughed. His eyes were bewildered.
“Never mind, let’s go out for dinner. Maybe catch a movie?” I suggest as I finally close my laptop and set it on the table. I swing my legs off of Sam’s lap and stand up to stretch.
“Let’s go to one of those theaters that serves food during the movie. We haven’t gone to one of those in a while. Then we can go out for dessert.” Sam mentions as I walk into his room. I give him a thumbs-up before going through the clothes that I left here.
****
After our impromptu date, I went home. Sam said that he had a photoshoot in the morning. Which is fine, I have to film in the morning anyway. We spent a chunk of the day together, which is all I could ask for. But for whatever reason, I can’t stop thinking about the non-déjà vu, déjà vu. It’s been bothering me all day. I don’t know why, but the fact that I can’t put my finger on it is bugging me.
It wasn’t about the whole lazy day with Sam that felt familiar, we have one of those at least every other week. It was all of it, how we got together, when we got together, etc. Even that doesn’t make sense. All of my past relationships started differently and at different points in my life. When I looked back at our relationship earlier for the imaginary relationship video that I was planning on filming, it almost felt like I was describing a movie that I’ve seen a hundred times. Like it didn’t really happen to me, that I watched it.
The thing is, nothing spectacular happened when Sam and I met. We met three times before we actually became friends. The first time we met was at the grocery store believe it or not. We bumped our carts to each other. Of course, at that time I also met Colby, who was the reason Sam wasn’t paying attention in the first place. Colby then left to grab something that I pretty sure they didn’t need just so Sam and I could talk. That didn’t surpass a brief conversation bout cereal. The second time we met at a party a week later. We were both in line for the bathroom and I was almost certain that I had seen that particular blond haircut before. Then again, there were a lot of blond-haired guys in LA. So when he turned around, I was surprised that I was right. We found out that we were both in the social media world, he was still new to YouTube but a pro at Vine, whereas I only did YouTube. The last time we met before we decided to use become friends was at our apartment building. We found out that we were neighbors. We must have walked past each other hundreds of times without even realizing it. Meeting twice was a coincidence, but meeting three times in less than a month was a sign.
I was at the end of a messy relationship when I first met Sam. Not too long after I had an even messier breakup. By the time I was ready to date again, I realized that Sam probably didn’t see me more than a friend, and I was fine with that. I rather keep Sam in my life than screw up the dynamic that we had. It took two years before I even realized that Sam felt the same way. He took the first plunge and asked me out for Valentine’s Day. We normally did something on Valentine's Day anyway because we were both single. That year he took me on a brief tour of all the three places that we met. Well, we went outside of the house that had the party because the people that lived there moved. At each place, he told me one thing he took away from our first encounter. Then he took me to a fourth location, the beach. That was the place where he first realized that he was in love with me.
We went to the beach a few months after we met. I took him. I had just broken up with my boyfriend of four years. I didn’t want to be at home, I wanted to be in my happy place. Sam didn’t I had literally just broken up that jerk. He said that I looked the happiest I had been in months. It was Fall and the coldest day it could be in LA. And all I wanted was to go in the water. And I dragged him with me, and that was it. After the drive home, I told him about the fight I had with my boyfriend, I cried a little, he wiped my tears away, and then I went into my apartment.
That Valentine’s Day, we had a picnic at the beach, watched the sunset. I kept poking fun at because of his fear of the setting sun. But he kept insisting that there was one thing scarier than the sunset at that moment. After the last ray of the sun faded, he asked me to be his girlfriend. I said yes, we kissed, the end. We’ve been together ever since.
My attention was cut off by my phone buzzing. I picked it up to see a message from my group chat with my high school friends. It was a link to a BuzzFeed quiz. It was a “when will you meet your soulmate” quiz. That’s it, that has to be where déjà vu is coming from. But it can’t be. A quiz online is only meant to be for fun, you’re not supposed to base your entire life around them. We’ve been taking these quizzes since our senior year of high school. But out of curiosity, I started to check all of the old results. We would share what we got with each other. There are years of messages that I have to go through.
By the time I finished searching, I found three quizzes taken before key moments that I had with Sam that lay out what’s happened in our relationship. Oddly enough, they’re made by the same person. The three quizzes were, “how will you meet your next partner,” “what your next partner’s first initial be,” and “who will say I love first.” The last quiz was also made by the same person. This could all be a coincidence, but I take the quiz anyway. Just for the novelty of it all.
As I’m about to get my results, there is a knock at the door. I stare into the void that is the darkness of my apartment and blink. I might get murdered. Or maybe one of the drunk college students that live next door could have gotten the wrong apartment number again. Stupidly, I get up, grab the baseball bat from the door, and looked through the peephole. I take a sigh of relief when I see that it’s Sam on the other side. I drop the bat and open the door.
“Sam? It’s nearly three am. What are you doing here?” I ask as I let him inside.
“I couldn’t sleep and I was lonely. I missed you Y/N.” He says as he wraps his arms around me.
“Fine, get to bed. I’ll be there in a second.” Sam kisses my cheek and walks into my room.
I pull my phone out of my pocket just to check the quiz. It only had one sentence.
You’re already with them.
#sam golbach#sam golbach imagine#sam golbach imagines#imagine#imagines masterlist#Sam and Colby#sam and colby imagines#sam and colby imagine#fluff#valentine's day#valentine's day imagine#valentine's day imagines#sam golbach x reader
178 notes
·
View notes
Text
<OT7>
After reading Taehyung’s new book from his beloved antique store, Jin and Yoongi find themselves transformed into parakeets.
Warnings: None. This is an absolute crack piece
Word Count: 6957
Master List
AN: This entire fic was a result of seeing this post in June 2019 and I have been working on it ever since. I love this story so much that I’m low key thinking about making this into a series. So if you love it, let me know!
Taehyung missed his grandmother. It wasn’t something he spoke about very often, but he did. He didn’t feel like he could voice this to his parents either, because, despite entrusting his care into her hands for most of his childhood, his grandmother was quite eccentric. But his parents had very little options in terms of child-care for Taehyung as they were often away on business.
Most of his peers felt bad for Taehyung when he mentioned this, but he had felt lucky for it meant that he got to spend his childhood trailing after his grandmother as she travelled to different parts of the town that he knew his mother would hate. His grandmother was a very popular woman, and so she spent her days visiting strange stores filled with smells that were both alarming and comforting and never quite distinguishable for Taehyung to find out what it was, and restaurants that always seemed to be full of noise but lacking in customers.
He always felt like they were on their own private adventure when he accompanied his grandmother on her trips, but there was one place in particular that he was always excited to go to. On the outside, the store was nothing special. A simple concrete building with a discrete sign hanging over its white door. Nothing on the outside to give away the treasure that hid inside.
His grandmother always called it the ‘antique’ store, but Taehyung knew it was more than that. It was a magical wonderland of hidden treasures. He would rush in front of his grandmother so he could take his time walking down each section, touching all the different treasures that decorated the shelves. He would always imagine the people they might have belonged to, the journeys they had been on to end up in some antique shop in Seoul. He liked to think that even the most mundane of objects had been on fabulous adventures.
Like the table lamp his grandmother had once bought. With its intricate embellishments on its legs, to the thin lace lamp shade that cast patterns all across the walls. He would think to himself that it had belonged to a young sorceress once upon a time who bespelled the lamp to never break, despite looking like one wrong knock could shatter it. It brought him a sense of calm walking through the shop whilst his grandmother spoke in low whispers to the owner about the small collection of books that were stored behind a locked cabinet at the back of the room.
When his grandmother had passed when he was eighteen, he had found solace in the antique store. Everything in his life was changing, but the antique store was always there to support him. Even as he moved to a different part of Seoul to attend university, he always made time to visit.
He was always coming home with some new intricate object to decorate his apartment, which would have been fine if he had lived alone. But, as it was, he shared his apartment with two other men who had very strong opinions about the antique shop.
Mostly, Jin and Yoongi thought Taehyung’s great purchases were a little weird.
Even Taehyung had to admit that his purchasing had gotten a little out of control when he brought home a real skull that one time. After that, Jin and Yoongi had made Taehyung promise to get one of their approval before bringing anything home.
Which is how Taehyung found himself on his knees in front of his eldest roommate.
"Please!" Taehyung begged, clutching his hands together and screwing up his face into the biggest pout he could physically manifest in the hopes that Jin could not refuse.
Jin continued to play on his Switch, frowning as he tried to keep his gaze focused on his Animal Crossing character and not Taehyung’s pout. After all, he needed all his concentration to catch those pesky butterflies. "Ah, Taehyung, can't you see I'm busy?"
"But you're the only one around! Yoongi's gone to work." Taehyung unclutched his hands as he stood back up and took a seat on the sofa beside Jin.
Jin groaned. "What about Jungkook?” he offered reluctantly. Whilst Jungkook wasn’t known for his sensible purchases (no seriously, the kid once bought speakers the size of his body that he couldn’t use due to the sheer volume they produced, but refused to buy himself a real pillow for his bed), but at least he was reliable. “Doesn't he have free time today? He can have my vote."
Taehung folded his arms across his chest. "He has university." He pouted.
"Jimin?" Jin looked up from his game as he thought. Jimin could be trusted. He wasn’t really known for buying random junk to clog up his apartment. Although, he was known to encourage Taehyung’s somewhat questionable fashion choices.
"Visiting his mum and won't be back until this evening." Taehyung smiled, already knowing that he had won this argument.
"Doesn't Namjoon like all that old crap?" Jin spat humorlessly as he returned to his game. He couldn’t trust Namjoon with Taehyung, which was a surprise to him as well. The usually level-headed one in their group had been easily swayed by a plant. Yes, you read that correctly. A plant. Which meant he was compromised, but Jin was willing to let it go this time if he meant he didn’t have to go himself.
Jin and Yoongi had grown to love the hideous clock Namjoon had encouraged Taehyung to buy, which was why he would prefer Namjoon to go than to suffer another trip to the antique shop.
"Yeah, but he's working too."
"Damn." Jin paused his game as he thought. He knew he was running out of options here and if he couldn’t trump Taehyung soon, then he was really going to have to bite the bullet and go with him. The alternative was to allow Taehyung go alone and risk him returning with some other obnoxiously loud object.
"Ah-ha!" Jin clicked his fingers in triumph. "Hoseok said he had the day off today."
"That's true, he did." Taehyung slowly nodded his head as he thought about his friend.
Jin grinned as he resumed his game. He was going to treat himself by buying something pretty from Tom Nook.
"Shame he decided to do some overtime."
Jin groaned as he saved his game. Of course he did. Hoseok loved his job. He had never met a man who was more excited at the prospect of going to work than Jung Hoseok. Seriously, it wasn’t natural. "Fine. But you owe me one!"
Taehyung jumped to his feet, fist-bumping the air as he yelled, "Yes!"
-
“Ah, Taehyung, why do you need to go to the store today?” Jin moaned, not for the first time since they left the apartment. Why did it have to be so far from their home?
“Hyung, I thought you said you liked the antique shop!” Taehyung tried to pout, but he couldn’t quite hide the smile from his face. He had been trying to squash his excitement ever since they left for fear that Jin would catch on to his plan.
“No, I said I like leaving the antique shop.” Jin rolled his eyes as they crossed the street to the antique store. “The Korean BBQ place next door is the best in the country."
"I already said I would buy you lunch, hyung." Taehyung laughed as he opened the door to the store. He held it open for Jin.
"Good, as long as we’re clear that I’m here for the food and not the antique shop.”
Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Noted.” He let the door go as he turned to face the owner, an elderly man who sat behind the counter. His glasses were the thickest Taehyung had ever seen, and yet the man still seemed to narrow his eyes as he looked over to Jin and Taehyung.
“Afternoon, Mr Choi!” Taehyung waved as he walked over to the counter with a smile.
“Ah, there’s my favourite customer!” Mr Choi stood, returning Taehyung’s smile as he walked around the counter to shake Taehyung’s hand. He leaned heavily against the counter, but that didn’t seem to deter him from looking up at Taehyung.
“Anything new to see?” Taehyung could barely conceal his excitement.
“Of course, of course. Come with me.” Mr Choi waved for Taehyung to follow him to the back of the shop.
Taehyung turned back to face Jin. “Are you going to be okay for a moment?”
Jin shrugged, taking a seat on one of the red velvet chairs that was packed in between a large grandfather clock, and an equally large and clearly phallic looking wooden statue. “Just don’t buy anything too obtrusive,” Jin called after Taehyung, who had not waited for Jin’s response.
Jin sighed. That was the real reason why Jin didn’t like coming to the antique shop. Whilst Taehyung went off to explore the shop, Jin was usually left to sit alone. Of course, he could go with Taehyung but after the last time they had both agreed it was probably for the best if Jin remained seated. The shop was kind of crowded and his broad shoulders tended to… disagree with the shop. And after he had almost broken a statue that was not only ten times his age, but cost more than his parent net worth, he didn’t want to risk it. But it wasn’t the worst place to spend an afternoon. He had to admit (under the heavy influence of alcohol, mind) that he actually did enjoy going to the antique shop. It was like stepping into another world. A world where anything was possible.
Even so, Jin couldn’t bring himself to relax whenever he stepped foot in the store. Whilst they were a similar height, Taehyung seemed to navigate the store with ease. Jin always found himself uncomfortably close to disaster with every breath. Even seated, Jin found that it would be far too easy to knock over some ridiculously expensive lamp. So he sat rigid, focusing on not moving at all. He definitely didn’t want to be forced into spending a couple hundred on some ugly ornament that Taehyung would force him to keep because he broke it.
So that meant Jin was left alone to stare around the shop.
Seriously, who would buy a ginormous wooden statue that looked like a penis?
Jin closed his eyes as he tried to expel the image from his mind.
-
“Thank you, Mr Choi. This is perfect!”
Jin jumped slightly in his chair as Taehyung’s voice rang through the shop. He hadn’t been sleeping. He was just resting his eyes.
How long had Taehyung been this time? He could never tell when he was in this store. Time seemed to stop and it wasn’t like Taehyung was a fast shopper in the first place. Jin had lost count of the time where Taehyung had meandered around the store whilst Jin tried not to fall asleep. Those trips were the worst because they were always the ones where Jin...
Taehyung rounded the corner with Mr Choi on his heel.
Jin stood quickly, trying to look inconspicuous as he stretched out his limbs. But in his haste to stand, Jin threw out his elbow just a little too roughly and accidently knocked the lamp. He quickly reached over to stop it from tumbling to the floor, glancing to make sure Taehyung and Mr Choi hadn’t noticed the near disaster.
Luckily, neither of them were playing Jin any attention. Jin sighed as he returned the lamp to its position before carefully making his way over to where Taehyung stood by the counter.
“- the moment I saw it, I knew there was only one customer who should have it. It was one of your grandmother’s favourite’s.”
“I know,” Taehyung agreed, staring down at the book in his hand with a sad smile. “I’ve been looking for it everywhere.”
Jin peered at the book in Mr Choi’s hand with disinterest. From his glance, it looked like an ordinary hard back. The brown, worn down cover was plain, the spine written in a faded gold font in a language Jin didn’t recognise.
“-but I should pay something towards it,” Taehying continued as he reached for his wallet.
Mr Choi shook his head, holding out his hand to stop Taehyung from pulling out any money. “Don’t be ridiculous. Consider this a gift for my favourite customer.”
“Mr Choi…”
“No buts. It’s yours.” Mr Choi wrapped the book in tissue paper before placing it in a paper bag, which Jin thought was incredibly unnecessary. The book was old and clearly worn out. It definitely didn’t need to be handled with care. But he kept the comment to himself. He didn’t want to jeopardize a free lunch from Taehyung.
“Thank you, Mr Choi.” Taehyung bowed low, unable to keep the tears from his eyes as he smiled at the olerman.
“Ah, enough with the formalities. You go and enjoy the rest of your day with your friend. I’m sure he’ll be glad to see the back of this place.” Mr Choi nodded his head towards Jin and, whilst he did so with a smile, Jin could help but feel a little chastised.
-
“So what exactly is the book about?” Jin asked through a mouthful of meat. He couldn’t believe that the simple book was all that Taehyung had been after in the end.
Taehyung glanced at the bag on the seat beside him, chopsticks playing with the food in his bowl. “I think this is the book my grandmother used to have a copy of, but it got lost when she passed away.”
“But it’s written in gibberish!” Jin tried to remember the title of the book, but the characters flew across his mind and made as much sense as they did when he first read them. He shook his head.
“It’s latin, not gibberish.” He peered into the bag once more. “At least, I hope it’s Latin.”. He shrugged. “She liked a mystery. She used to spend her time translating books like this for fun.”
Jin stopped shoveling food into his mouth as he gaped at Taehung. “You know what, it makes sense now. I get why you’re so weird.” Jin nodded sagely, smile tugging at his lips. He was only teasing his younger friend, but it did at least provide a little context for Taehyung’s love for some random antique shop.
“Gah, I’m not weird, hyung,” Taehyung laughed.
“You spend all your free time in an antique shop.” Jin deadpanned, tapping his chopsticks on the side of the bowl.
Taehyung glared at Jin. “I’m not weird,” He muttered as he shoveled some more meat into his mouth.
Jin shrugged. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
-
"Yoongi, guess what the weirdo brought home this time!" Jin called out the moment they returned to the apartment. He let their front door swing wide open and bang into the wall.
Taehyung rolled his eyes but decided not to comment as he followed the positively excited Jin into their home and closed the door behind them. He was used to this. To be deemed the weird one. So what if he was passionate about an antique shop? At least he didn’t collect anime figurines like their other friend.
Yoongi sat up on the sofa, blinking blearily at the pair. "Do you have to be so loud? I was sleeping." He rubbed his eyes as he let out a long yawn.
Taehyung giggled as he walked towards the kitchen and placed his bag down on the counter. "Yeah, Jin. You woke Yoongi up."
“Trust me, you’ll want to be awake for this,” Jin said to Yoongi with a smirk. He turned to Taehyung. “Now show him, brat.”
Taehyung thought about it for a moment. “Nah.” He shook his head, trying his best not to look amused but knowing that he was failing miserably. His cheeks were hurting from trying to suppress his smile. This, too, was to be expected. Jin and Yoongi liked to guess what Taehyung purchased every time they came back. Taehyung didn’t mind. If it made them complain less about what he was buying, then he was all for it.
He turned away from his hyungs, deciding to get himself a drink of water when his phone chimed. Absentmindedly he pulled his phone from his pocket as he grabbed a glass from the cupboard.
Jimin: You free tonight?
Taehyung: Depends… What are you proposing?
Jimin: Namjoon’s finally agreed to a night out 😈
Taehyung: Namjoon? Kim Namjoon?
Jimin: The one and only
Taehyung: Damn, I can be free for that. Let me get changed and I’ll come round for pre-drinks.
Jimin: Sweet. See you soon
Taehyung put his phone back into his pocket before filling his glass with a smile. He could do with a night out. He turned to face Jin and Yoongi once more, finally noting that Jin had been, in fact, talking the entire time Taehyung had been distracted.
“-and that is the last time I ever do something nice for you.” He folded his arms across his chest dramatically, turning away from Yoongi and glaring directly at Taehyung.
Yoongi looked up at the broad-shouldered man with a look that Taehyung could only describe as one that said ‘Who shat in your coco puffs this morning?’
“What?” Taehyung asked, wide-eyed. He had a feeling Jin had just spent the last couple of minutes complaining about their day out and he had completely ignored him.
Yoongi laughing at Jin’s exasperated sigh.
“Gah, why do I even bother?” Jin sank down further in the seat beside Yoongi, dramatically flailing his limbs in the process.
Taehyung giggled before announcing, “I’m just going to get changed and then I’m off out.”
Yoongi nodded silently whilst Jin continued to pout. But the moment they heard Taehyung’s door close, Jin was on his feet and pouncing towards the bag Taehyung had left on the counter. He picked up the book carelessly before bringing it over to Yoongi.
“See, what did I say? Another useless piece of junk to lay around the apartment. I mean, he could have picked something useful, like the chair I was sitting on or something but oh no.” Jin flicked through the pages, disgust colouring his features. “He had to pick up this book of gibberish.” He dropped the book onto the coffee table.
“It looks like Latin to me,” Yoongi contemplated as he picked up the book and opened it to a random page. He marvelled at the intricate drawing of parakeets adorned on the left side of the page. “Must be a book about animals. Look it even says
convertens est animalis. It practically has ‘animal’ in the title.” Yoongi pointed to the top of the book, raising his brow as if he had solved the biggest mystery in the universe; how Jeon Jungkook managed to sleep in a bed with no bedding.
Jin scoffed. “Alright, Min genius. What does the rest of it say, if you’re so smart.” Jin rolled his eyes. He had low expectations of Yoongi actually being able to read the dead language, but he couldn’t see the harm in letting him try.
Yoongi inspected the book closely. “Volatilia ad sibi similia,” Yoongi mused. “That sounds kind of familiar.” He leant back in the chair once more, lifting the book to his face.
As Yoongi silently read, Jin decided that he was going to see if he could find more information on the book online. He pulled out his phone, determined to search for the title of the book.
Mutantur et nos.
Huh. Well that didn’t sound good, Jin thought as he typed it into his phone. Surely a book that had ‘mutant’ on the cover was going to lead to no good?
The first result led to a wikipedia page for Tempora Mutantur. It explained the term as the ‘changes that passages of time brings’, but was more commonly known as Tempora mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis - ‘Times are changed, we also are changed with them.’
Jin narrowed his eyes. Well, that wasn’t helpful in the slightest. Jin continued to scroll through the results, but not one linked to the book in Yoongi’s hand.
“Huh,” Yoongi expelled. He glanced at the front cover.
“What?” Jin lowered his phone to glance at the man beside him.
“I think this is a magic book.” Yoongi met Jin’s gaze with wide eyes.
“Pft, I doubt that.” Jin laughed. “It’s some stupid book that was probably written in the last half of the century that Taehyung was conned into taking home. You know, like half the junk he brings home from that place.”
“Hm. Guess it won’t hurt to try it then,” Yoongi countered, sitting up straight.
“Wait, what-”
“Aves sumus,” Yoongi declared proudly.
For a beat, nothing happened.
Jin laughed, shaking his head. “See, I told you it was-“
Jin’s head swirled. It was like he was about to faint, the whole room moving around him with the force of an earthquake. The book clattered to the floor beside him.
“-garbage.” Jin stared down at the book, not quite contemplating what happened. He felt funny. Smaller, somehow. He was standing on the edge of the couch, the coffee table, which had been in arm’s reach the moment before, seemed to be miles away from him. But that was impossible. How could the coffee table move in the blink of an eye? “Why did you drop-“ Jin turned towards Yoongi.
Except Yoongi was no longer next to him. In his place was a beautiful blue parakeet with his head tilted to one side as he peered at Jin.
“Uh, Yoongi… I don’t know how to tell you this, but... you’re a bird.”
The bird – Yoongi – hopped to face Jin. “What do you think you are then?” Yoongi countered without missing a beat.
Jin froze as Yoongi’s words washed over him. He couldn’t really be a bird. That was ridiculous!
He glanced down at his body, taking in the vibrant green feathers in place of his body and orange claws that stood where his feet once were.
“Yoongi, what did you do?!” Jin screamed. He could feel his wings stretching at the exclamation, unable to stay still as he felt his heart rate increase. “Are you stupid, why would you read something from the magic book out loud?” Jin edged his way closer to the end of the sofa, contemplating the best way to get onto the floor so he could read the blasted book and find a way to turn them back. “And you’re stupid enough to drop the damn book, gah. So stupid, I swear-“
But the rest of his sentence was forgotten as Yoongi’s body slammed into his and they both went tumbling towards the floor.
Dazed, Jin could only lie there as the sound of Taehyung walking through the lounge passed them, his brief call of ‘bye’ ringing through the quiet apartment. And then the door closed and any hope of seeking a human’s help - and hands - went out of the window.
Jin clambered to his feet – talons? “Why would you do that!” he screeched.
“He would have freaked out!” Yoongi struggled to stand, shaking his feathers once upright.
Jin wanted to strangle Yoongi but he doubted his claws would wrap around Yoongi’s neck enough to satisfy the urge.
“But he could have helped us!” Jin hopped towards Yoongi, his temper rising. Jin wasn’t one to lose his cool very often, but considering the current situation, he felt like he was fine to be stressed out.
Yoongi, however, remained un-phased as he stretched out his wings and inspected them. “Eh, we can figure it out ourselves.”
Jin was sure that if they were both human, Yoongi would have shrugged. Instead, Yoongi’s wings gave a slight shudder in what you could have only assumed to be a shrug.
“Fantastic. And how do you propose we do that without opposable thumbs?” Jin’s head tilted towards the book laying face down on the floor beside them.
“Easy. We just need to turn the book.” Yoongi hopped until he was standing on the book. In his mind, it was quite simple. He would grip the hardback cover between his claws and somehow utilise his wings to fly upwards until the book naturally turned over by sheer force of gravity.
It was a brilliant idea, Yoongi concluded, because of how simple it was. And everyone knew that the best ideas were always the simplest.
Jin watched as Yoongi struggled to even lift off from the ground. His friend hopped like mad, but no matter how fast he flapped his wings, Yoongi never stayed up for longer than a moment.
“Maybe try flapping your wings slower,” Jin mused, struggling to keep the humour from his voice. Despite how depressing the whole situation was, he had to admit watching Yoongi trying to flip the book was hilarious. He was pretty sure the only time he’d seen the sullen musician move this much was when Jungkook had tried wrestling him. And even then, that was only to lock himself in his room before Jungkook could get a hold of him.
“Shut up, hyung. I… got… this…” Yoongi huffed. He stopped jumping, planting his talons firmly on the edge of the book. He took a moment to spread his wings. He had this. If birds could figure it out, so could he.
He flapped his wings hard. Once. Twice. Three times.
He hovered, slowly gaining more height. Jin whopped as he watched Yoongi slowly taking off from the ground.
But he wasn’t moving fast enough and Yoongi could feel the energy drain from his body. So he did what he thought was the logical thing to do; he started to flap his wings harder. But as he tried to keep the momentum going, he found his body naturally leaned forward and caused him to fly straight into the coffee table with a loud ‘thud’.
The book dropped pathetically to its original position as Yoongi’s head connected to the side of the table, landing on his back beneath it. He groaned, trying to figure out exactly where he had gone wrong when Jin’s green feathered face appeared.
“I told you, stupid. We need Taehyung.”
Yoongi glared up at him. “Fine. Point made.” Yoongi rolled onto his front, talons comically running with the side of his beak firmly pressed to the ground as he attempted to stand once more. Once up, a shudder passed through him, wings briefly opening before settling back at his side. “We’ll just have to wait for him to come home.”
“But we don’t know how long he’ll be!” Jin whined, his talons hitting the wooden floor in quick succession. It was a lewd imitation of one of his famous strops.
Yoongi rolled his eyes as he hid behind the leg of the coffee table. He wondered if Jin would notice if he laid down for a few moments. Yoongi was just about to settle himself down when-
“Ah!” Jin tripped over the book.
“Are you finished with your strop now?” Yoongi asked, his amusement not quite hidden in his tone.
“This is all your fault!” Jin cried as he rolled back onto his front and standing with considerably more ease than Yoongi had. “We have no idea how long this – this curse will last! You could have turned us into birds forever, Yoongi. Forever!”
“Sheesh, I’m sure this is all temporary, Jin hyung. No need to get your boxers in a twist.”
“We don’t know that, you idiot. You don’t even know what you said in the first place. For all you know you could have said “I want to be turned into a freaking pigeon for the rest of my life!”
Yoongi hummed. “We’re certainly not pigeon’s, hyung. We look more like budgies.” Yoongi turned to look back at Jin..
“Oh-oh-oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. Maybe if I was still in my human body, maybe I could have googled the answer before speaking!” Jin snapped.
Yoongi rolled his eyes. This was all pointless now. The deed was done, they just had to deal with it. Besides, Yoongi thought as he stretched out his wings, he had always dreamt about flying. If he could figure it out, the deal wouldn’t be so bad.
Jin stopped pacing as he mulled over Yoongi’s words.
“Jin?” Yoongi stepped closer towards him. “Earth to Jin?”
Jin’s gaze snapped back to Yoongi. “That’s it!” Jin’s talon’s slapped against the wooden floor as he sprinted out of the room.
“Agh, Jin! What did you figure out?” Yoongi made no attempt to follow his older brother. Not because he wasn’t curious. He was, but all that jumping and flapping wings had really taken it out of him and he really didn’t feel like sprinting after Jin.
There was silence for a few moments. Then the sound of something hitting the floor and Jin’s frustrated scream.
“Everything okay?” Yoongi called, leaning against one of the legs of the coffee table.
Yoongi was starting to grow concerned by the silence when Jin appeared around the corner.
“Where’s your phone?” Jin demanded, walking slowly towards him.
“On the sofa…” Yoongi watched as Jin moved towards the sofa, standing just at the foot of it.
“Siri, call Taehyung.” Jin screeched. He waited for the acknowledgement before screaming it again.
“Hyung… what are you doing?”
“I’m trying to remotely call Taehyung. What does it look like I’m doing?” Jin snapped.
“Well, it would help if I had Taehyung saved as ‘Taehyung’ on my phone. That and I don’t have Siri.”
“What do you mean you don’t have Siri?”
“I don’t trust it. It’s just… weird.”
“It’s not weird. It’s convenient. You know, like right now.”
Yoongi’s right wing twitched in a poor imitation of a shrug.
“Fat lot of use, you are.” Jin muttered. “There must be something we can do?”
Yoongi watched as Jin started to pace back and forth, talons clacking incessantly. Yoongi doubted that suggesting they simply wait for Taehyung to return would be any help, so he bit his tongue.
Jin groaned as he flopped to the floor. “This is useless. We’re going to die as birds.”
“Don’t be so dramatic, Jin. We’re not going to die.”
“Well how do you know that, Yoongi? Did you understand what you read?”
“No.”
“Then we could very well-“
A shrill ring sounded in the apartment, causing both men to freeze.
“Was that- was that the phone?” Jin asked.
“We have a house phone?”
“Yes, you imbecile. We do.” Jin scattered to his feet, chasing after the sound. “Where is it? Where is it?”
“Have you tried Taehyung-ah’s room?”
Jin hurried to the youngster’s bedroom. “Oh for christ sake, it’s on his damn bed.” The ringing stopped. “And there goes our chance.”
“Hello. Your call cannot be taken at this moment-“
“What’s that?” Yoongi called as he searched the room for the source of the voice. His gaze landed on a rectangular box next besides the TV.
“The answering machine! Thank you, Namjoon!”
“Please leave your message after the tone.” A beep sounded. The sound of music filled the room.
“Ah, Jin, Yoongi! Jimin and I have decided we want to hit a few clubs. Don’t wait up for me.” The phone clicked.
Jin appeared from around the corner. “Was that Taehyung’s voice I heard? Did he say he was on his way home?”
Yoongi was frozen to the spot. Jin was not going to like this. “Not… exactly.”
Jin appeared by his side. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Taehyung-ah was phoning to let us know that… he won’t be home for a while.”
“What!?”
“They’ve gone clubbing.”
“What!?”
“Now, I know what you’re going to say.” Yoongi stepped away from Jin, who was now gazing at Yoongi as if he was contemplating the slowest and most painful way of murdering him.
“Oh, you do, do you?”
“Yes. And I just want to say.” They both stopped in their tracks, waiting for the others' reaction first. Yoongi took a deep breath. “You’ll have to catch me first.” He was off before he had even finished speaking, using the element of surprise to get a head start.
Jin screeched after him, his words an incomprehensible babble as he charged after Yoongi. He only reached the edge of the sofa when he was stopped by the sound of pounding on the door.
“The door.” Jin changed directions, charging the door. “The door!”
“Jin, watch out!” Yoongi called, far too late.
Jin tried to slow himself down, talons skidding across the floor before colliding head first into the frame.
Yoongi winced.
“Hello?” Jungkook’s muffled voice called from behind the door. “Hyung’s, are you alright?”
“No!” Jin wailed, moving away from the door with a limp. “Junkook-ah, let yourself in. We need your help!”
The handle rattled.
“Please don’t be locked,” Jin prayed.
The door opened slowly, Jungkook’s head appearing around the frame first before the door opened fully.
“Hello?” he called out, glancing around the empty living room. “Jin hyung? Are you here?”
Jin hopped on the ground. “Down here!”
Jungkook frowned as his gaze darted around the room. “Down where?” He stepped into the room. On his second step, his foot landed close to Jin.
Jin shrieked. “Watch where you're stepping!”
Jungkook looked down, eyes widening in surprise.
“Jungkook-ah, we need you to grab that book and-“
Jungkook turned on his heel and fled from the apartment, slamming the door behind him.
“Well, that went well,” Yoongi commented.
Jin spun to face him. “You don’t get to speak.” He hissed. “We wouldn’t be having this problem right now if it weren’t for you.”
“Alright, alright. Remind me to buy you some looser boxers when this is all over with.” Yoongi chuckled, but stop when he realised the murder was very real in Jin’s eyes. “Sorry.”
“Now what are we going to do? Jungkook was our one chance to get help.” Jin slouched, dragging his talons as he made his way back over to the coffee table. He paused by the book, then kicked it with his talon before dropping his body on top of it.
Yoongi waddled towards him. “Jungkook’s seen us now. It’s only a matter of time before he walks back through that door to make sure his video game riddled brain wasn’t lying to him.”
Jin groaned, not bothering to lift his head from the book.
“I’m telling you, hyung. Jin’s a pigeon.” The door swung open once more and Hoseok and Jungkook stepped inside.
Hoseok rubbed his eyes. “I don’t believe you.” He said in a pout.
They both stopped to stare at Yoongi who was still standing in the middle of the room.
“Jungkook. Hoseok. Nothing to see here.” Yoongi waddled towards Jin.
“Ah, why would you tell them that! We need their help!” Jin snapped as he got back up onto his talons.
“See, I told you.” Jungkook smugly turned to Hoseok.
Hoseok's eyes widened at the sight, before he promptly fainted.
“Oh, yeah. Probably should have suspected that would happen.” Jungkook chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand briefly before closing the door.
“I’ll deal with him.” Yoongi puffed out his chest as he moved towards Hoseok’s body.
“Jungkook-ah, get your butt over here and pick this book up!” Jin demanded, hopping in front the book to garner the younger man’s attention.
“Why, what’s a book going to do?” Jungkook slowly picked the book up, frowning as he flicked through the pages.
“Well it’s this blasted book that got us into this mess. Now pick me up so I can read too,” Jin whined, flaying his head from side to side until Jungkook offered Jin his palm. As soon as Jungkook placed him on the table, Jin pecked the table. “Put the book here.”
“Cor, you're still as bossy as ever, hyung,” Jungkook muttered.
“You’re telling me,” Yoongi agreed, inspecting Hoseok’s sleeping floor. “How the hell am I supposed to slap him with no hands?” He mused.
“Your wings?” Jungkook offered absentmindedly as he turned another page in the book.
Yoongi considered it for a moment, before shrugging. There was no harm in trying, after all.
Using his talons, he struggled to lift himself up onto Hoseok’s sleeping form. His talons grabbed while he utilised his beak to hoist himself up. Once settled onto his chest, he waddled his way to Hoseok's face. He stretched his wings, contemplating the best way to slap him before deciding to just go with it.
What he didn’t expect was how lightly his wings would hit Hoseok’s face.
Hoseok giggled, a happy smile plastered onto his face.
“Jungkook-ah, it’s not working.” Yoongi stopped his assault with a sigh.
“That tickles,” Hoseok giggled, eyes opening slowly. He stared up at the ceiling for a moment before his eyes landed on Yoongi.
“Morning, sunshine,” Yoongi chirped.
Hoseok screamed, knocking Yoongi off his chest in his attempt to stand.
Yoongi landed on his feet with a shudder. “Watch what you’re doing!” He barked.
“He’s a bird!” Hoseok pointed at Yoongi as he sought out Jungkook.
“Yeah, so’s Jin,” Jungkook commented without looking up from the book.
“Hoseok, stop playing around and help us fix this.” Jin stamped his talons on the coffee table. “And bring that fool with you.”
Hoseok looked wearily at Yoongi.
“Stop looking at me like that. I’m not going to bite.” Yoongi cocked his head. “Much.”
Hoseok glared at Yoongi, but slowly lowered himself to the ground and offered Yoongi his hand. Yoongi hopped on happily, whistling as Hoseok lowered him to the table.
Jin shouldered him. “I don’t know what you’re so happy about.”
“What’s not to be happy about?”
“You do realise birds don’t sleep as often as humans, right hyung?” Jungkook finally looked up from the book with a smile.
“What?” Yoongi froze.
“Yeah, and their life span is shorter,” Jin chipped in.
Yoongi stopped closer to Jungkook. “Turn me back. I can’t live like this.”
“Finally!” Jin groaned.
“Are you all quite finished?” Jungkook laughed. “I think I found one.”
“I am so lost right now,” Hoseok whined, looking between them all in absolute bafflement.
“What part of Yoongi read from a damn cursed book and turned us into bloody birds do you not understand?” Jin huffed.
“All of it.” Hoseok sat down heavily on the sofa.
“You really thought Einstein here was going to help? Why didn’t you grab Namjoon?” Yoongi laughed.
“Namjoon went out to meet up with Taehyung and Jimin. Trust me, hyung. He wouldn’t have been my first choice either.” Jungkook smiled.
“Hey! I can be useful!” Hoseok protested, grabbing the book from the table and standing. “Let’s see. What about this one here?”
“No!” Jungkook, Yoongi, and Jin all yelled. Jungkook attempted to grab the book from Hoseok, but it was too late. He had already finished reading the sentence.
For a moment nothing happened.
“What a load of-” Hoseok started but stopped when he realised that he was no longer standing on the floor. “Uh-oh.”
Jungkook grabbed the book from Hoseok. “That’s why we weren’t reading from the book.” He tapped Hoseok’ head with the book before sitting back down. “Right, let’s try this again.”
Ten spells, a broken vase, an exploded lightbulb, and a very confusing body swap later, Jungkook finally found the right spell.
A bright light filled the apartment, blinding them all. Once their vision had returned, Yoongi and Jin were back in the right bodies and Hoseok was back on the ground.
The four men collapsed onto the sofa, staring at the complete disaster zone the living room had become.
“All in favour of burning that blasted book, say aye.” Jin said.
“Aye.” The other three agreed in unison.
“What happened here?” Taehyung stood in the open front door and stared around the living room with his mouth wide open.
“You don’t even want to know, Tae.” Jungkook shook his head.
Taehyung slowly approached them. “Seriously, you look like you just went to war?”
“Sure feels like it too,” Yoongi groaned as he stretched his neck.
Taehyung picked up the book from the coffee table, idly flicking it open. “I wonder what this says?” He mused.
Hoseok jumped to his feet and slapped the book to the floor. “No!” He pointed his finger in Taehyung’s face. “We are not going through that again.”
Taehyung laughed. “You read it out loud, didn’t you?” He picked the book up, shaking his head. “Rooky mistake.” He walked back to his room, continuing to chuckle to himself.
“I don’t believe it.” Jin gasped. “The git knew.”
“What other magical stuff is he hiding in there?” Yoongi mused.
“I swear, if you turn yourself into something else, I am not helping.” Hoseok threw up his hands.
While the four boys continued to bicker in the living room, Taehyung closed the door to his bedroom and walked over to his bookshelf. He skimmed over the titles of the books before finally settling on a brown leather-bound book, not unlike the one he held in his hand.
He opened the page and smiled. “Just what I thought.” He closed the book and replaced it on the shelf, placing beside it the one he had acquired that day.
He knew it had sounded familiar when Mr Choi had described the book and now, he knew why. It was, in fact, one of the books his granny had transcribed. He laughed as he imagined the sort of trouble his friends had got themselves into.
#mikrogalaxynet#bts#taehyung#yoongi#jin#jungkook#hoseok#bts au#bts fanfiction#jimin#namjoon#bts fanfic#bts written#bts writing#bts story
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fun in the Sun
The seventh and final story from the IzuMina week prompts is finally complete. Thanks for reading, and I hope you all enjoy it!
Read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24704671
Or on FF.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13530836/7/IzuMina-Week-2020
Izuku was deep in concentration as he worked on his hero analysis volume, updating the section on Tokoyami in light of his recent improvements in controlling Dark Shadow, when he was suddenly squished into his seat as Mina clambered on top of him, eager to stare out the window.
“Woohoo!” she shouted, pressing herself bodily against the window, “It’s the ocean!”
“Ashido, please calm yourself and return to a proper sitting position!” Iida chastised, “Such a position is not safe while the train is in motion! Also, you’re hurting Midoriya.”
“Sorry Izuku,” Mina said, crawling back to her seat and giving him a quick hug in apology, ”Got a little excited.”
“It’s fine,” Izuku replied, straightening the notebook page a little. His last sentence had gotten a little smudged, but it was still fairly legible and that was what mattered.
“Is this your first time visiting the ocean?” Uraraka asked from across the aisle, chuckling at her friend’s antics.
“Nah,” Mina replied, “My family comes out to visit every year or so. But this is the first time I’m coming with friends, so I’m super excited! It’s time for a week of nothing but sun, sand, and good times!”
“And swimsuits!” Mineta called from a few rows back, “Don’t forget the swimsuits!”
The tell tale smack of Tsuyu’s tongue impacting his head echoed through the train car, causing everyone who wasn’t from UA to wince. The students didn’t even blink, though. They were perfectly used to it by now.
“Ashido, we are not going to some resort!” Iida said, craning his neck over his seat in order to lecture her, “We are attending an ocean-side facility for the purposes of training. As such, we should all comport ourselves with the dignity befitting future heroes, and not slack off!”
“No way!” Mina said, crossing her arms defiantly, “We didn’t get to do any fun stuff at the last camp, even before it got attacked. I’m not missing out again! Especially with how hard I worked to get here. I’ll train with everyone else, but the second we’re done I’m heading down to the beach and cracking open a watermelon or two!”
“Mina,” Izuku said gently, “It’s an isolated island that UA uses exclusively for training camps. I don’t think you’re going to be able to buy a watermelon.”
In response, she raised an eyebrow and pointed her thumb back towards where the rest of their class was sitting.
“Did you see how many suitcases Yaomomo brought? She’s absolutely got a watermelon in there somewhere, or enough supplies to grow one.”
Yaoyorozu had indeed brought quite a bit of luggage, though most of it was not for her own use. Two of her three suitcases were dedicated to supplies that the rest of their class might have forgotten to bring, such as sunscreen, insect netting, and even a few sleeping bags. It was probably overkill, especially given that she could produce most of the items herself on demand, but it was the thought that counted. She seemed to genuinely enjoy looking after their class like a mother hen, and Izuku wasn’t going to criticize her for that.
“It is true that you successfully passed your exams this year, Ashido,” Iida said, not one to be easily deterred when it came to encouraging what he viewed as proper behavior, “But that does not mean you can relax in place of training.”
“I won’t,” she assured, “I just wanna have fun, you know? Let my hair down a little. UA is all training and tests. This is our chance to live a little.”
“Mina’s right,” Uraraka chimed in, surprising all of them, “The training camp is important, and we should all do our best, but it has been a long time since we all had fun together. And isn’t de-stressing an important part of keeping ourselves fit?”
Iida looked like he wanted to argue the point for a bit longer, but was interrupted by Aizawa before he could continue.
"Training camp lasts a week, but our ferry back to the mainland isn't for nine days. Behave yourselves, work hard, and the last two are free days. Not my decision, but orders are orders. Now stop arguing so I can get some sleep before we get to the station."
Considering that their train was due to arrive in less than 15 minutes, that seemed unlikely, but Aizawa had impressed them all with his napping skills before.
"Vindicatioooon!" Mina cried, pumping her fist into the air.
The action earned her a pair of glowers from Aizawa and Iida, but Izuku could only shake his head. The fact that Mina was planning some fun in the sun came as no surprise to him. It had been all she talked about for the past week or so, particularly once their exams had ended.
He didn't begrudge her one bit. She'd worked as hard as anyone else in the class during the build up, and while her grades still hadn't been stellar, they had been a marked improvement over last year's. She'd even passed her practical exam with flying colors, despite having one of the tougher scenarios to complete.
“You know,” Uraraka said thoughtfully, pressing a finger to her chin and cocking her head, “We might not be feeling up to playing around after all that training. Remember how tough that last camp was?”
“Training schmaining!” Mina replied, “We’re way stronger than we were last year. This camp’s going to be a breeze!”
---
After a week of training, they were all singing a very different tune. The training had been absolutely brutal, even worse than last year’s daily Quirk training. Strength training, cardio, sparring, mock rescues, and hazardous terrain exploration were all daily occurrences, with more specialized training depending on individual student’s areas of expertise afterwards.
Several times throughout the week, Izuku had found himself looking back fondly on his training sessions with Tiger. Back then, he’d only had to worry about one wily opponent, rather than a whole group.
Mina was easily as exhausted as he was, and twice as prickly from overuse of her Quirk. Not even the special lotion that she normally used to help with skin irritation had been enough to completely eliminate the strain.
Now they were finally done with the training camp, and instead of dashing off to the beach everyone was sitting around the common room of the temporary dorms they had been staying in. They couldn’t muster the energy to get changed out of their hero costumes, let alone to go splash in the waves.
“Urrrgh,” Mina groaned, “My everything hurts.”
“Preaching to the choir,” Jirou replied.
“It’s proof that we have worked hard, and improved ourselves,” Iida said, his heart obviously not in the lecture.
“It sucks,” Mina said, “What’s the point of having a free day if we can’t enjoy it?”
“I’m just enjoying not having to do any more push-ups,” Kaminari groaned.
There was a long pause filled with only the occasional grunt of pain as someone shifted in position, before Mina, through a supreme act of will, clambered slowly to her feet. The sheer audacity of the act drew every set of eyes in the room, which was probably what she wanted in the first place.
“You know what?” Mina said, spinning slowly in place so she could meet each pair of eyes, “Screw that. I worked hard this week, and I’m not gonna let some sore muscles keep me from having fun. So I am going down to that beach, and I am going to have an amazing day. Anyone else who wants to come is free to join me. C’mon Izuku!”
“Huh?” Izuku said, completely startled to be suddenly included in the conversation.
“Izuku, I’m not just going to go to the beach by myself. That’s super boring. Now, are you coming or not?”
“I… uh, I don’t…” Izuku stuttered, trying to get his thoughts in order. He didn’t want to disappoint her, but at that moment he could barely imagine climbing to his feet.
“Okay, let me rephrase that,” Mina said, holding up a hand to forestall any further resistance, “Do you want to keep sitting here, wallowing in your misery with everyone else, or do you want to come hang out on the beach with me and see the swimsuit I specifically picked out for you?”
He was on his feet in no time flat, perfectly ready to hit the beach.
She snickered at his enthusiasm, though Izuku could see a faint tinge of lilac dusting her cheeks as she did. As confident as she acted most of the time, Izuku knew that Mina had been harassed over her looks a few times in the past, and being reminded that he found her (extremely) attractive always seemed to embarrass her a little bit, no matter how many times he did it.
“G-glad to see you’re so excited,” Mina said, her voice cracking a little as she did so. “Tell you what, how about you meet me down at the beach? Wouldn’t want to spoil my entrance by having you see before I’m ready.”
“Huh,” Kaminari observed, in one of his rare moments of perception, “Ashido’s acting like a bride on her wedding day.”
Mina eeped in a combination of surprise and embarrassment and the slight color in her cheeks turned to a full blush. She quickly turned on Kaminari, who seemed to have realized that retribution was coming his way and was attempting to pry himself out of the love seat he had been reclining in to little success. The task was made significantly harder a moment later when she dumped a load of acid into his lap. Thankfully for him, it didn’t seem to be particularly potent, since his clothes didn’t start smoking. He did immediately begin scratching at himself to relieve a sudden bout of itching, though.
With that, Mina dashed out of the common room, deliberately facing away from Izuku as she did so. It meant she was walking the opposite way as the women’s dorm, but Izuku was in no position to critique her behavior. After all, he was keeping his own gaze firmly set on the floor while he tried to fight down the heat in his cheeks, as well as the images of Mina in a white dress.
Once he had calmed down a little, thanks in no small part to Uraraka’s gentle advice and encouragement, he made his way slowly to the room he was sharing with Kirishima and got changed into his swim trunks and a Hawaiian themed shirt that his mother had helped him pick out. It was much flashier than what he would usually wear, but she had said it made him look dashing.
And, if he were honest with himself, he wanted to be a bit flashy to impress Mina. She was always leaving him speechless with how stunning she looked in her various outfits. He wanted to do the same to her, if only a little.
---
When Izuku finally arrived at the beach, he was a little taken aback by how nice it was. UA had purchased the island specifically for training purposes, so he'd been picturing something a little bit more rocky, with maybe a few sharks in the water waiting to pick off a foolish student or two.
Instead the beach was composed of fine, dark sand, and sloped gently down towards the ocean. A little ways out, the top of a small, curved reef jutted out of the ocean, breaking any large waves before they could even reach the beach, and forming a perfect swimming cove.
It looked so much like a scene out of a travel advertisement or a postcard that Izuku was tempted to double check his phone to make sure he hadn’t spontaneously gained the ability to teleport. He would never regret his choice to inherit One for All, but he could do without all the sudden discoveries of new powers that came with it.
He was in the midst of exploring the beach, looking for a good place to set out the towel he had brought along, when a familiar call distracted him.
“Izukuuuu!” Mina called, stepping out of the tree line and into view.
She was dressed for the beach, with a pair of flip flops and a light jacket with the same leopard print pattern as her hero costume. She was carrying a large cloth bag that seemed to be filled with beach supplies and snacks, all of which threatened to fall out with every bounding step.
Izuku was surprised to see that her jacket was zipped all the way up, since it was already fairly warm out, and she was usually fairly weak to the heat. Despite how light the jacket looked, Izuku knew that she must already be sweating up a storm.
Before he could do much more than raise a hand to return her wave, she dropped the bag she was carrying and charged him at an impressive speed for someone who had been complaining about how much she was aching just a short while ago.
He braced himself for the inevitable, but Mina’s full body tackle-hug still sent him stumbling backwards. It was her favorite way to greet him, and she was apparently not going to let a few sore muscles dissuade her from using it.
He groaned in pain as his own muscles and miscellaneous bruises complained violently about the sudden affectionate assault, but didn’t dare let go. He’d done that twice before, and Mina had given him quite the tongue lashing about letting her fall to the ground and getting her outfit dirty.
He tried to pry her off of him, but she was stuck fast. Her many hours of grapple training with Uraraka had made her a fierce opponent, and a particularly tenacious hugger when she chose.
“Thanks for coming out here, even though you were so tired. It really means a lot,” she said softly.
“Of course,” he replied, gripping her even tighter, “And thank you for making me come. I think the fresh air is helping a lot.”
“I’m glad,” she replied, finally releasing him and stepping back, “Now let’s hit the water! I’ve been waiting all week for this!”
In one quick motion, she zipped open her jacket and let it fall to the ground. As it did, so too did Izuku’s jaw. He’d seen Mina in plenty of outfits, including in her school swimsuit before, but this was entirely different.
Underneath the jacket was a ruffled turquoise bikini that left very little to the imagination. It accentuated both her feminine curves, and the extremely impressive set of muscles she had been developing during her time at UA.
“Soooo,” she prompted, reminding him that he needed to respond, and not just stare, “What do you think?”
“I, uh… you… pretty,” Izuku said eloquently.
“Not exactly what I was hoping for,” she said, giggling slightly at his reaction, “But I’ll take it. Now come on!”
With that, she grabbed his hand and tugged him towards the ocean, jacket and bag entirely forgotten in her enthusiasm.
---
“Honestly,” Yaoyorozu chastised, “how could the two of you forget to put on sunscreen?”
Izuku shrugged sheepishly, then winced as the motion irritated the massive sunburn that now covered his face, neck, and most of his limbs. His torso had, thankfully, been spared the same fate thanks to his swimsuit and shirt, but he was still miserable.
Although not nearly so much as Mina. She was sprawled out on the couch, doing her best not to move while she waited for Yaoyorozu to produce some ointment to help relieve her pain. Every bit of her normally bright pink skin was burned a deep lilac, as though she were experiencing a full body blush. It was quite the sight to behold, though it made Izuku feel terrible, since he was mostly to blame for her current predicament. He was supposed to be the responsible one, after all.
“We had more important things on our minds,” Mina pouted, “Like playing with the fish. And watching dolphins!”
“And was that worth getting burned?” Yaoyorozu asked.
The muttered “Maybe,” was almost inaudible, but caused the taller girl to chuckle..
“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed yourselves at least. And you’re in luck. I happen to know how to make a very effective ointment for treating sunburns.”
As she spoke, the familiar sparkling light of her Quirk bloomed in her palm. A moment later, it formed into a bottle with an image of a spiny, cactus-like plant on the front that Izuku assumed was the aforementioned substitute.
“Apply some of that now to wherever hurts, then apply another layer tomorrow morning. If you do, you should be back to full health by the end of the day.”
“You’re a saint Yaomomo!” Mina said, reaching for the bottle, only to wince in pain and fall back as the motion irritated her already sensitive skin.
“You’re welcome, Ashido,” Yaoyorozu said, “I hope you feel better soon. You as well, Midoriya.”
With a graceful nod to them both, she placed the bottle of ointment on the coffee table near Mina and strode out of the room.
Izuku wished there was some easy way to thank her for her help. With anyone else, he would give them a gift of some sort, but Yaoyorozu could simply make or buy anything he could get her. It was a real shame too. She helped the entire class out all the time, and it would have been nice to finally give something back.
Before he could finish that thought, however, Mina’s voice interrupted him.
“Izukuuuuu,” she whined, “I can’t reach it...”
He turned to find Mina waving her arms vainly at the bottle of ointment, which was just out of easy reach. She could probably have grabbed it, if she were willing to sit up and move a little, but Izuku didn’t see that happening anytime soon. Instead, he stepped over and scooted the bottle a scant few inches so that she could finally grab it.
She had other plans, though. Instead of picking up the bottle, she looked up at him piteously.
“I can’t put this on myself. Will you do it for me?”
He spluttered, both in surprise and at the idea of it.
“M-Mina, I can’t. T-This is the common room! Anyone could walk in!”
“Everyone’s already in bed, or watching T.V. in their rooms or something,” she said dismissively, “Besides, I’m dying here, and it will only take a minute.”
He wavered. As much as the idea of basically giving her a full rub-down in the middle of the common room sounded like an exercise in anxiety and embarrassment, he knew that she really was feeling miserable, and it would be difficult for her to relieve it on her own.
“I… O-okay. But just until you feel good enough to walk, okay?” Izuku said.
She hummed in agreement, then stuck one of her legs out for him to start with, hissing slightly in pain as she did so. That hiss, more than anything, set his resolve to help her out. He pulled a chair over to the couch so that he could sit while he worked, and so that she wouldn’t have to hold her leg up the entire time.
He worked as quickly and efficiently as he could, doing his best to think about anything other than the fact that he was running his hands up and down her legs while she sighed repeatedly in contentment. She didn’t make it easy, though, especially since she refused to engage him in any conversation that would have drowned out her exhalations.
He breathed out his own sigh of relief when he was finally done applying the ointment, only for her to pull her legs back, flip over to lie on her stomach, and proceed to hike up her shirt to expose nearly her entire back.
“Do my back too,” she commanded.
“But what if someone comes in?”
“Then they’ll see that I got a big sunburn, and that you treat me like a queen. Who cares? Now, get to massaging mister!”
With a quick glance around, and a silent prayer that he wouldn’t faint mid-application, Izuku set to work.
The sounds Mina was making were even worse now, making Izuku absolutely certain that she was doing it intentionally to tease him. Her strategy was working too. His already warm cheeks were absolutely burning, and he had to concentrate hard to keep his eyes from straying into dangerous territory. Even going over increasingly difficult math problems in his head didn’t work as well as it normally did, so he hurried through the task as quickly as he could.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t quick enough.
“What’s going on in here?” Kaminari said, sauntering into the room. He looked quite a bit more refreshed than he had that afternoon, thanks to a day of rest, and ready for a bit of friendly ribbing.
On the other hand, Mineta, who had entered at the same time as Kaminari, looked like he had just seen a ghost. His face was pale, and his mouth agape. If it weren’t for the fact that he kept looking back and forth between Izuku and Mina, Izuku would have been tempted to check behind him to see if there really was a ghost.
“Izuku is being a gentleman and helping with my sunburn,” Mina replied, “Or he was before you two barged in and interrupted us.”
“Hey, we were just grabbing snacks,” Kaminari said, holding up a packet of chips to prove his point, “Not our fault you two were getting busy in the common room.”
“Kami, you’re so lucky I can’t get up right now, or I would absolutely give you the acid treatment again,” Mina said, shooting him a withering look.
“Whoa, hostile!” Kaminari said, backing away slowly with his hands up, “Think I’m gonna get while the gettin's good. Have fun you two! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”
“Kami, I swear to god!”
Laughing, he exited the room, dragging a still gaping Mineta along behind him.
Once they were gone, Mina smacked her forehead into the couch with a dull ‘thwap’, and let out a long sigh.
“Sorry Izuku,” she said, once she had finished expressing her exasperation with her friend.
“I-it’s not your fault,” he replied, trying to keep his voice steady, and failing utterly.
Mina might be used to such ribbing from her friends, but Izuku was most assuredly not. His heart was beating a mile a minute, and he mostly wanted to phase through the floor and never come out again at that point.
Then, despite how much it must have hurt her, Mina hauled herself up to sit cross legged in front of him, and took Izuku’s hands in hers.
“Maybe it’s not, but I’m still sorry. I know you don’t like getting teased about that stuff. I’ll tell Kaminari to lay off the next time I see him.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Izuku said, not wanting to damage her friendship with Kaminari.
“No, but I want to. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable, and I know Kaminari doesn’t either. If we’re gonna tease you, we want you to all be able to laugh about it later. And if you ever do feel uncomfortable about anything we tease you about, just tell us and we’ll back off. Remember, we’re your friends first and foremost, and we care about you.”
Izuku ducked his head, unable to look her in the eye after words like that.
“I, uh, th-thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Izuku,” Mina said, leaning forward to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. It stung more than anything, but Izuku still appreciated the gesture.
Although, he wasn’t sure if he needed it. Being teased about Mina and him… being intimate was embarrassing, of course, but he could handle it. After all, he’d endured plenty of teasing throughout his life, almost all of it from people who meant to bring him down, to make him feel small. Kaminari’s words didn’t do that. If anything, they made him feel at home, like he really belonged in the class.
“B-but you don’t need to tell Kaminari anything. I don’t mind it,” Izuku said.
“You sure?”
He nodded his agreement, and a soft smile blossomed across her face.
“I’m proud of you, Izuku. And don’t worry. I’ll teach you plenty of comebacks, so Kaminari won’t even know what hit him.”
Somehow Izuku doubted that he would ever reach that level, but if it made Mina happy, then he would try.
“But before that…” Mina said, stretching back out on the couch while she grinned wickedly, “How about you finish fixing me up, and we go get some dinner?”
It wasn’t exactly the peaceful evening filled with relaxation that he had hoped for during their many hours of training, but Izuku had long ago made peace with the fact that Mina was going to make his life much more lively than it otherwise would have been. It led to a lot of awkward and ridiculous situations, but Izuku wouldn’t trade his relationship with her for the world.
“That sounds… nice,” Izuku said.
“You're the best Izuku! I love you!"
"I love you too, Mina," he replied with a wide smile.
#mha#izumina#mina ashido#midoriya izuku#fanfiction#mha fanfiction#bnha#bnha fanfiction#izumina week 2020#burns#sunburns specifically#fluff
50 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
loscoso
coso
figs-cavetoes
fig's_cavetoes
paulams24
☞︎︎︎𝔓𝔞𝔲𝔩𝔞☜︎︎︎
skinny-curiosity
Skinny_Curiosity
cdkaitlynn
hello, I am kaitlyn, 23 sissy in west of usa.