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anjaelle · 2 years ago

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hii, can you write a dave lisewski x reader where reader is new at school and he volunteers to give her a tour of the school. Dave thinks she is really pretty and wants to be her friend, he asks questions about her and finds out that she likes comics and superhero’s just like he does and he asks her to come to his house after school to watch a new marvel movie that just came out. she says yes and they watch the movie at his house. during the movie dave just can’t keep his eyes off of her and he’s so in love with her even though he just met her.The movie ends and he walks her home because it’s getting late and he doesn’t want her to possibly get into some kind of danger. when they make it to her house( he finds out that they live close to one another) she thanks him for being so kind to her and kisses him on the cheek. he blushes and wishes her a goodnight. from then on they become great friends and maybe even more. (SORRY THIS IS SO LONG, js wanted it to be detailed so it’s easier for you!!🤭)

@baddestdu0y3t

Pairing: Dave Lizewski x New Girl!Reader

Warnings: None. Except general teen awkwardness?

a/n: Ok so I'll be honest and say that I haven't written for highschool characters since I was a highschooler myself about 10-11 years ago. So I'm admittedly a bit rusty. I probably won't make this a regular thing, because I don't really think I'm good at it haha. And I changed some things around and cut some things out for brevity, but kept the important bits. It kind of feels like a coming-of-age romcom.

(gif source)

--x--

Dave would happily get stabbed and hit by a car twenty more times if it meant he wouldn't have to deal with the current situation he was in. He'd dripped oil from his bacon egg and cheese in his lap, and tried to clean the stain with soap and water, which created an almost bigger stain. The hand dryer in the mens room wasn't working, there were no paper towels, and he was running late to homeroom. Todd gave him a sympathetic pat on the back and offered the ever-helpful comment, "Don't freak. It'll dry eventually."

But it'd been a half hour, and it hadn't dried completely. A few people passed him with looks of disgust.

This day was already turning out to be shit, and it was only 9 AM. He shoved his head in his locker, wishing that a sinkhole would form in the middle of the school and swallow him whole. As the hallway cleared, he noticed you looking down at at a paper and distractedly walking in one direction before turning a corner and disappearing. You then turned back around and walked past him again in the other direction, with a furrowed brow and a pouting lower lip. When you turned to pass him a third time, he closed his locker and awkwardly leaned up against it.

"Hey! Are you lost?" He nearly shouted at you. You stopped short, startled out of whatever daze you were in, and looked at him as if you didn't even notice there was another person in the hall until now. Any plans he had to have a normal conversation left him immediately. He cut his eyes away from you. It was like staring into the sun.

"Hi." You re-adjusted your bag on your shoulder, "And yeah. This school is way bigger than my old one and I'm kinda turned around."

"Oh, yeah, totally, for sure. It's--yeah, it's big." He said awkwardly pulling at the straps of his backpack, "I mean, the school is big. The halls are big. It's a maze. Even I still get lost sometimes, and I've been here almost 4 years."

God, Dave, shut the fuck up.

You giggled at him and he felt his cheeks warm at the sound of it.

"Um, can you help me?" You asked, quirking your head to get a better look at him.

"Sure. Yeah, I can walk you to your next class."

You smiled at him and he smiled back, revealing the cutest dimples you'd ever seen.

"What about your class?"

He peeked at your schedule and his brows disappeared under the curls on his forehead, "We have the same homeroom. So we'll be going the same way."

He was very different from the boys you talked to at your previous school. You thought of what your old friends would say about him. You weren't super popular or anything, but you navigated most social spaces with relative ease. It also meant hiding a lot of yourself. Dave had a kind face and warm eyes that studied you with a sense of eager curiosity that flattered you. Incidentally, you were curious about him too.

When you introduced yourself to him and shook his hand, you noticed immediately how strong his grip was and his calloused palms. Most guys you knew with hands like those played contact sports. He didn't seem like the type, at first glance. He seemed to notice your surprise but didn't quite understand the reason behind it.

"Sorry if my hands are sweaty," he said, instinctively wiping them on his pants.

You rushed to ease his fears, "No they weren't! You're fine." And then, "Do you play sports?"

"Nope. I mean...sometimes I play Wii Tennis. I don't know if that counts though."

You giggled again, "I think that counts."

Interesting. Maybe he did woodworking or mechanic stuff like your dad. You made a mental note for later.

You both strolled down the hall in no real rush to make it to your destination as you talked. He was incredibly animated and spoke with his hands when he got into the groove of the conversation. And when you talked about your old school or your family, he actively listened and asked even more questions.

"You're really cool," he finally said, breathlessly. If you could visibly blush, you're sure you would've. You've been called a lot of things, but never "cool" with such earnestness. "I just wish I'd met you when I didn't have bacon stains on my pants."

He looked down at himself again and grimaced at his own misfortune. You could almost laugh at how resigned he was. Like this was just an everyday thing he had to deal with.

"You could just do what the girls do when we have stains on our pants," you suggested. He quirked a questioning brow and you motioned with your hands. "Tie your hoodie around your waist. It'll hide the stain pretty well, I think."

His eyes widened like you'd revealed the secrets of the universe to him, "I...didn't even think of that."

He immediately took his backpack off and dropped it to the ground to unzip his hoodie. When you noticed his tee shirt, you heard an eager gasp slip from you before you could really stop it. His shirt had the different sketched out iterations of Batman's costume designs over the years, which included a mix of his comic and movie suits.

"I just really like your shirt." You explained as he tied his sweater around his waist. "I was raised in a DC household. My dad has a big box of old school batman comics in our basement that I used to poke through when I was a kid."

His face lit up at your confession, "You like comic books?"

"I used to. I mostly just watch the movies now. The good ones, anyway." You said, shrugging. In truth, you hadn't picked a comic up since middle school. You missed reading them sometimes, but you never really had anyone to talk about them with. So you just stopped. You explained as much to him and he hummed in thought.

"Well, you can always talk about them with me. Do you like Marvel, too?"

You scrunched your nose up at him and he gasped.

"I'm sorry," you couldn't help but laugh at his dismayed expression, "I just think most Marvel movies are corny. And the comics can be a little soap opera-y to me. Maybe I'll give the comics another try, but I don't think I've seen any recent movies other than Black Panther and Thor Ragnarok."

When he thought about it, he couldn't really blame you for feeling that way, "If you had to choose, would you say that those were your favorites?"

"Nope," you admitted, "My favorite is Captain America: The Winter Soldier."

"And not Civil War? That one's my favorite."

You shook your head as you both approached the door to your homeroom, "I may have only seen it in parts. I don't really remember it."

He bounced on the balls of his feet nervously and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "Well if you wanted...we could watch it at my house next Saturday. Only if you want. My dad and my friend Todd will be there, so it won't be just us. But they won't be weird either. At least, I don't think so."

You smiled at him as he babbled on, only reaching out to lightly touch his arm. "Let me ask my mom. She might ask for your dad's number, if that's okay?"

A small smile graced his pretty face.

He nodded, "Totally."

Todd wasn't super happy with the idea of you joining their movie night. But Dave watched him warm up to you until you were both practically friends, too. He felt a twinge of jealousy at how quickly you two got along, but he summed that up to just how friendly and easy to talk to you were. He knew the movie front to back, so he couldn't help but watch you study the movie with deep interest to see how you reacted to his favorite parts. When all was said and done, the three of you sat in the living room discussing Civil War and if you were Team Cap or Team Stark. You all seemed to be in agreement that Tony was a war criminal who indoctrinated child soldiers. But you all were in disagreement about whether Tony deserved to have his ass kicked by two super soldiers.

"He literally didn't even know that he did anything wrong!" You argued to Todd, who rolled his eyes.

"You're only saying that about Bucky because you think he's hot."

"Maybe so," you admitted, "but my point still stands. He was brainwashed, he wasn't responsible."

"So you wouldn't be upset if I killed your parents, and Dave knew but hid it from you, and then beat you up when you found out?" The blond asked, popping a pretzel in his mouth, "I dunno. I'd be pretty upset."

"That's different, Dave would tell me." You responded with a coy wink at your new best friend.

Todd groaned, "You think he'd throw me under the bus for you?"

"I mean--" Dave cut in, pushing himself from the couch to stand to his feet and stretch, "--she is really pretty. And she smells nice. You're not as pretty and you just smell like Axe."

Todd gasped in mock hurt and you motioned to yourself as if to say "look at the material."

When 9:00 hit, you said goodbye to Dave's father who invited you and your family back for dinner, and hugged Todd goodbye.

"You're still wrong about Tony." He mumbled.

"You're in denial."

"You're In denial."

When you broke away to hug Dave he hesitated, "I was going to walk you home if that's okay with you. No pressure. I just...Uber is expensive on Saturday nights, and I know you don't live too far. But I don't want you to feel unsafe."

You noticed Todd shoot an odd glance at Dave before schooling his features. You made another mental note, but nodded.

"Sure, thanks."

You still weren't used to how long city blocks were. So even though you lived only a few blocks away, it felt like so much longer. Despite everything, you were surprised by how quiet this section of Manhattan was at night. Some people milled about, either going to or coming from someplace else. The air was brisk enough to add a jolt of energy to your system, but it still wasn't so cold that you felt any rush to get home.

"So what's up with the callouses?" You suddenly asked. Dave seemed confused by the question, so you grabbed his hand and held it up to him, then turned his hands over to show his reddened knuckles.

"Oh. I-I'm a...boxer. I box." He stammered, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Only my dad and Todd don't know. So don't, like, bring it up around them. They'd freak out."

You hummed, "Okay."

He let out a sigh of relief. A sharp gust of wind from a passing wind tunnel chilled you to the bone, and you looped your arm through his.

"Oh!" You said, surprised.

"Are you cold?" He leaned in closer to you, "We can walk faster if you want."

"I just..my hands are a bit cold." That didn't explain the way you were wrapped around his arm like a boa constrictor. But he didn't seem to mind. He shifted his hand in his sweater pocket.

"There's some room."

You felt your stomach flutter when his hand brushed against yours in his sweater pocket. The flutter turned into a rapid thud when his fingers laced through yours. Despite how ice cold your hands were, he didn't pull away.

"Is that okay?" He asked, shyly, fully prepared to move his hand if you objected. You gave his fingers a small squeeze.

"It's great, actually."

You carried on the casual conversation for another few blocks before stopping at a newly renovated brownstone. He realized then that your family definitely had more money than his.

"Here we are."

You slipped your hand out of his grasp when you realized you still had it in his pocket.

"So...I'll see you monday?" He asked, fidgeting with a loose piece of string on his sleeve.

"Of course."

"Awesome."

"Yeah."

You looked him over one last time before you parted ways. He was your first real friend since you moved, but you still felt like there was so much about him that you didn't know. Not because he was particularly secretive, but because you felt like there was more to him than he let on. You unconsciously reached up and moved a curl away from his eyes. A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth, in response.

"What?" He asked.

"Nothing," you said, "I just think you're really cool, Dave Lizewski."

His smile bloomed into a wide grin, exposing the deep dimples in his cheeks. "You're cool, too. Probably the coolest person I know, actually."

Your heart was thudding in your ears when you leaned up to press a gentle, lingering kiss to his cheek. Before you pulled away, you heard him gasp softly in surprise.

You suddenly felt your phone vibrate in your pocket and checked to see that it was your mom asking where you were.

You usually let your mom know ahead of time when you were on your way home, but you felt uncharacteristically out of sorts. You shot her a quick text letting her know you were outside.

"I hate to do this," you said, finally breaking him out of his stupor, "I really have to go now. Mom's asking questions. Text me when you get home, okay, Curly?"

You gently touched his arm and climbed the steps of your house to the front door. He gave you a weak thumbs up, but he still stared at you with a shocked, flushed face. "G-gotcha."

"And don't forget."

"I won't. I promise."

When you finally shut the door behind you, you peeked out of the small eyehole to watch as he touched his face in surprise and walked down the street in the wrong direction.

#jaelle writes #aaron taylor johnson x black!reader #dave lizewski #dave lizewski x reader #atj x reader #aaron taylor johnson x reader

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pepcono · 1 month ago

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Accidentally got lost in the sauce while writing a reply and ended up with a shoddy essay. So I've polished it up a bit and packaged it in more proper essay format.

Special thanks to @\Undeaddream for always reminding me that sometimes the people you disagree with most are those you respect most.

Consider the "egg"

Consider the "cis men" who state things like "I really want to be a woman, but I'm not trans"

Consider those who wish they were trans so that they could escape the torture of their body but believe that it's something that happens to other people.

Consider those who are suffering, but are unable to accept the possibility they're trans.

In other words, the egg.

Some would believe that what harm is caused by classifying and naming this person is inexcusable, "it makes people uncomfortable," "it enforces gender norms," they argue.

Their thoughts dwell on those who believe themselves miscategorised, or those insulted by the insinuation that some of their characteristics could be seen as trans.

But do they stop and consider the egg?

Do they consider how people mobilise the position "you shouldn't tell someone they could be trans"?

The anti-egg position, although often coming from well meaning thought process, could very well do more harm than good.

Speaking anecdotally, I saw a yt comment thread where someone said: "Idk wtf is wrong with me. I really relate to this [a song about hating masculine features of ones body and wanting to be a girl] but I'm not a cis woman nor a trans woman, I am 100% sure I am not trans! Idk, am I just a freak or what?" Now maybe you dear reader see that and take them at their word, but I see someone who's in the same position as I was. Wanting desperately to be feminine, to escape my "male" puberty but due to internalised misogyny and transphobia is unable to admit why, unable to accept the solution.

Maybe what they need to hear is "it is ok to be a woman", "its ok to be trans", "you're not a freak for wanting this"

Maybe what they need to hear is "you don't need to suffer"

Some people did point this out in the replies, but each was met with similar statements of "you should insinuate they're a trans woman, that's rude" Maybe you, the reader, agree with that statement, maybe you're even right. But I know how I would've interpreted it. I would have seen it as a statement that I shouldn't consider the possibility, it would further cement the idea that "real trans people just know, because here's all these trans people sneering at that idea I could be trans"

But honestly, I'll be the first to admit "egg" is not the best term for this (But that's a whole other thing). But I instead bring this up to highlight that anti-egg discourse doesn't really stack up to the hype. It kinda reinforces that "just knowing" misconception.

In some people's haste to protect gnc men from the travesty of being compared to trans women (or worse, mistaken for trans women!), they don't stop to consider the egg.

But maybe you dear reader, don't see that, maybe you don't see your own denial and self hatred in "cis men", maybe you don't see someone reflecting internalised transphobia and misogyny that you yourself had to overcome.

And that's ok, not everyone has had the same experiences, some (probably) never even had dysphoria, a lucky few might have even never had to deal with internalised transphobia.

But bloody hell if you can't even acknowledge that not all eggs are even GNC in your post critiquing the term. You might want to reevaluate how complete your understanding is.

(also as an aside, egg can apply to "cis women" but the OP I was replying to didn't acknowledge it and as I repeatedly state, what's key "egg" is relating one's own experiences to them, something I do better with "cis men" eggs than "cis women" eggs)

#o #o_es

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celibibratty · 10 months ago

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This movie is funny cuz at the first time that you watched you get angry/makes you feel betrayed, me and marina first watched on 2017, and i remember that we got soooo mad(i mean it, was very very mad, it's rare ocassions that I/we got this mad)💢🔥(and to make worse mom out nowhere appears and was trying sugartalk the situation of the movie, trying to justify to us, LET US BE MAD ABOUT IT, geez), but watching again 7 years later(yeah, since then we never rewatched It)i/we didn't get mad at all, it was funny, but marina saw some people reviews, and she said that people seem to also got mad too(at least we from the past weren't the only ones😒), cuz okay the dude loved the other girl😒(i personally found hilarous how much those two take a childhood relationship so serious, japanese people and their logics), it's seems as if is a common thing of this movie, you will feel betrayed/angry(i don't care cuz it's right!, the bald dude it's better)

We were exactly like this girl, i felt i couldn't talk, my tummy used to hurt so so much(so much that at that time we used to take a stomach ache med everyday before going to School...and nowadays i don't take it anymore), my voice used to gets trembling when i talked in social situations, people referred to us as "mute" cuz i/we said any word, the scene when the girl talks for the first time in class and the whole class get impressed(saying things like "is that (...) Voice?is the first time i see her talking", "i thought she didn't know how to talk", ugh, it was exactly like this, i hate it💦, are innocent reactions/comments, but it feels so humilating

The way the mother treats the girl, ugh, it hits me/us too, is this thing of passively saying that "you're weird and stop with that"(the person can't control It, it's a process, i hate it, you get traumatized by people and then people expect you to act normal towards others as if it was nothing, it's inside of us, it's difficult), i find insteresting of our case is that we used to care so less to our parents saying this/they orders, that they even stop it saying it/trying("look at people eyes", "talk normal", never tried to do any of their orders), the part of the car, the mother thanking the school as if the girl didn't was capable of find/keep connections because she worked hard to socialize, cuz "she is weird, nobody would want to stick with/be friends with her, she is not capable of find friends", it's only School and the others to be praised, not the girl cuz in the mother's vision the girl has no courage, has something about this scene that it was so...urgh...

There's something so interesting and messed up about the fact that the girl believed that what would cure her "curse" would be love, but what really made her"curse" break was having her heart-broken/get into a very stressful situation, it was her limit, she had a big attack, that caused the egg to break/explode(the egg to me is her heart, it breaked a little in previous scenes, she was getting comfortable, as if was her heart opening up little by little, but in this moment, it breaks of hurt, it's rush It, and what has inside is not a empty/clean "egg", it's spills blood as if was opened bruttaly)i wish i could explain better💦

I still wonder what supposed to be the scrambled eggs? I think its mixed emotions, numbness, forget everything, mess everything up

This...scene...hurts 💧

this is more mine interpretation, cuz idk if this is the message that the movie wants to deliver🙄, but i find funny that the girl always likes to point that hurt words are bad and that you shouldn't say them cuz they hurt other people and you can't take it them back(which it's true), but was only when she said the hurt words that she got the strengh to go to the play, showing that express those words are also important(i wish the girl roasted her mother and her father💢, those two deserved those words indeed, but her mother and her father are literally the reason for her feeling/became like this💢, she deserved to express her anger towards them(even if her mom works hard to give her a good life)

I find interesting cuz this movie handles this trauma effect kinda well😒(i don't like those talk, but the movie is kinda about that so), cuz i think in the end the girl has no problem with talking!, I think her tummy doesn't hurt anymore!, i think she won't talk in texts anymore cuz now after that(the egg broke)she has no problem with talking anymore!, but even with that she will not be talktive/be like her kid self, she will never be the same again, it's not like in a "fairy-tale" everything super works out/end beautifully(even interesting and sad to say that cuz the girl was obsessed with fairy-tales), I find interesting that in the end we don't see the girl interacting with the boy and the other girl, personally i think after that she won't be friends with them anymore, it was gonna be just a memory of a cool thing that all of them made it together, but will stay in there, I think they'll be collegues,(but not as close as before), her relationship with her mother, i don't think will get super good/better after that, still gonna be distant, the thing that the mother now realises how much her actions affected her daughter and maybe she can try to be more pacient, but still nothing that shows in the end, in the end the curse broke, but the consequences of it still exist(pretty much like in a superation of a traumatic situation, you got over it now, but the way they affected you molded you, you can't be the same again, i mean you can be, but tbh I believe you will never be 100% like you used to be, but if is the case, it's a process)

#reflection #Hmph People referring to this girl as shy or autistic she is not shy or autistic she is traumatized she didn't born this way she become #kokoro ga sakebitagatterunda #Nossa senhora o nome desse negócio é grande pra caramba)#anthem of the heart #I find funny how the bald guy is a troblemaker and a hothead but he is actually the person with most dignity in the group

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coconutcows · 2 years ago

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Oh gosh, I didn't expect that you'd see that poll too! I thought I was the only one on my dash who knew, that's a fun coincidence! I agree with you, too. I understand why OP would be frustrated with the influx of people, some of which can be REALLY bad eggs, but it's incredibly rude of OP to say that. Kiana seems like a chill person and she loooves hanamusa lots, so it's obvious she'd reblog it. She didn't intentionally "fuck over" anyone here. That comment was uncalled for. Just rude!

Yeah I went to her blog after I saw that post and saw that she had sent a message to that poll coordinator apologizing about it and wishing them well. She also said they were perfectly fine with her promoting the poll at first and she would of stopped if they wanted her to. It’s pretty clear that they just got upset that their preference had a chance of losing which is silly. And getting upset at people saying “it’s just a silly tumblr poll” is also a little wild. This is the website that turned vanilla extract into a meme because it was a third of the votes on a cake making poll. Tumblr is the site where people go for the funniest option most of the time

It’s just the vague posting of kiana got me, like “fucked over by someone who worked for Disney”like gee who could that be about?? Like one person on the website fits the description of Disney employee who ships hanamusa. And I’ve never seen her be mean or dismissive towards anyone so I doubt she purposefully “fucked them over”

I think the people saying they haven’t been on tumblr long/don’t know much about tumblr culture are right.

#Anon #Ask #thanks for the ask!!!#it’s really not a big deal like no tumblr poll actually proves anything #except maybe the ones where people think their behaviour is super common and it’s not #this is like if someone made a most popular pet poll and got mad and deleted over snake winning over cat

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batsandbugs · 3 years ago

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The Flower Crown Chronicles

AN: Thank you everyone for all your likes and reblogs! Here's another chapter, which as always you can read over on ao3 here! I hope you enjoy it, you might just spot a familiar face!

CW: homophobic comments, racist comments, and bad language

Chapter 3: Lemonade Stand

Damian pulls up to Richard’s house – a whitewashed brick two-story building situated atop a hill – and parks along the side of the street, as the… occupied driveway provides him no room.

He turns off his car and takes a fortifying breath before exiting. The midday sun shines full above with enough heat to fry an egg on the pavement. Damian approaches his brother’s, normally nice and peaceful, suburban house with trepidation.

What in the world are his siblings thinking?

Cassandra and Kory place clothing on a rack, talking underneath a boombox playing pop music.

Stephanie chats with two elderly women in matching outfits and conning them into buying a pair of lamps.

Todd, removed only slightly from the chaos, skateboards with a couple of kids on the sidewalk, engaging in more complex tricks that would find its inevitable end with someone breaking an appendage.

Drake sits inert in a too-small lawn chair, a wide brim straw hat shading his eyes as he reads off his phone.

And Richard stands in the midst of the chaos dressed in Bermuda shorts and a fanny pack looking inordinately pleased with himself. All over the, normally clear, driveway sits a collection of odds and ends with price tags slapped onto the sides. A crowd of random people browse through said odds and ends.

Little Mar’i remains the only member of his cobbled-together family making any sense. A collection of mismatched pitchers crowd a small folding table and a stack of cookies sits on a plate next to them. Combined with a large patio umbrella, a pair of sparkly purple sunglasses, her ever-present flower crown, and a printed paper sign that reads:

SNACKS FOR SALE

LEMONADE - $2

COOKIE - $1.50

She waves at him but remains seated at her table where a line of people waits to purchase refreshments from her makeshift booth.

Richard jogs over to him before Damian can act upon the impulse to retreat to his car and escape.

“Damian! So glad you could come!” his older brother greets.

“Richard, what madness is this?”

“It’s a garage sale?”

“We are billionaires.”

Richard sighs. “Bruce is a billionaire.” Damian raises an eyebrow; his financial portfolio is plenty lucrative. Drake coughs loudly from his plastic lawn chair, but his attention remains on his phone. Richard rolls his eyes. “Okay, maybe a few of us are billionaires but that’s not the point. A garage sale is more than just a chance to make money, it’s about getting rid of things you don’t need anymore and interacting with your neighbors! It’s a community bonding experience.”

“One; if you wished to rid yourself of unwanted items, donate them. Two; if you wish to bond with the community throw a gala, or - if you must be plebian - a block party.”

“Your classism is showing,” comments Drake; ironic considering the irritating interloper’s own parentage.

Damian scoffs. “Oh look, gaze upon the field in which I grow my fucks and see it is barren.”

Stephanie walks over, pocketing a ten-dollar bill. “Damian’s meme-ing? Who taught you how to meme baby bird?” She slings an arm awkwardly around his shoulder. He stands as tall as Todd and his father these days.

“Tt. I am twenty-one, fatgirl, I believe that age is sufficient enough to know how memes work without another’s instruction.” He side-steps away from his pseudo-sister letting her arm fall.

She elbows him in the side, and he prides himself on not jumping to defend himself from the innocent roughhousing the attack is meant to be. “Well, I’m almost twenty-seven so that means you need to respect your elders.”

“Ah yes, you are aging and fat, truly a marvelous combination. Tell me, when did you last go on a date?” He ducks out of the way of a much sharper jab.

“Guys, guys stop fighting,” pleads Richard. “We aren’t together a lot outside of our… extracurriculars, and I want this to be fun!”

Stephanie smiles innocently like she had not just tried to assault him. “Sure thing big bird; just wholehearted good clean family fun with no weapons, murder or arson.”

“You eliminated half of all our family’s immediate interests,” Damian drawls. “And ninety percent of Todd’s.”

Richard throws his arms into the air and stomps away in a huff, but Damian spots a smile on his older brother’s face. Stephanie sticks out her tongue, but says nothing else, retreating to the shade of the garage with Kory and Cassandra.

“UNCLE DAMI!” A small weight hits his legs and Damian barely braces himself from falling over at the force of his niece’s overexcited greeting. He reaches down to pat her head; raven locks twisted into complicated braids accompanied by a bright purple flower crown. One of Marinette’s creations.

“Hello little one, how are you today?”

She beams at him with a gap-toothed smile. “Great!” she exclaims. “Grandpa Alfie helped me bake cookies to sell and Mom helped me make the lemonade. I’ve made thirty-five dollars already.”

Damian smiles at her. “A good start, you likely already recouped your initial investment. The heat of the day will only increase from here.”

He points to her stand; several people wandering over to look at the sign. “You should go back, you have customers.”

“Thanks! But I need more lemonade. MOOOOOM!”

Kory turns away from her conversation with Cass. “Yes, my little bumgorf?”

Mar’i rushes over to her mother with the empty pitchers. “Can you go inside and make three more pitchers of lemonade?” Kory pats her on the head, takes the jugs in hand, and walks towards the house.

Mar’i runs back over to him and hugs his legs tightly. “Thanks, uncle Dami.” She rushes to her station and starts talking the ears off of her soon-to-be customers.

Damian sighs in fond exasperation; Mar’i was her mother and father’s child through and through. Personable and suborn, with a pragmatic mindset.

He wanders over to one of the tables ladened with objects and peruses through the odds and ends Kory and Richard decided to sell. Collections of old books, racks of clothes, several odd dish and plate sets, and an entire blanket full of Mar’i’s old toys. Despite the utter plebian nature of such an event, they had done a marvelous job at appealing to a large range of tastes for the common suburbanite.

“Damian?”

He freezes at the call of his name, the familiar syllables twisting under a soft accent, and a feeling of dread - and not excitement, he reprimands his inner voice - pools in his stomach. He turns around.

Marinette stands a foot away, clad in a white sundress and wide-brimmed hat. Her raven locks are drawn into two low pigtails. She carries a small wicker basket filled with a collection of odds and ends.

“M-Marinette,” he replies, hoping no one else heard his unfortunate stutter. “What brings you here? Your apartment is located in the city; quite a journey to get here.” ‘Quite a journey,’ thought Damian sarcastically. That is the best he could come up with?

“I spent the night over at Delun and Patrick’s.” She points out a couple browsing the electronics a few tables over. One is a large mountain of a man – thick beard, burly chest, dressed head to toe in black – who would not be out of place in a boxing ring or bike rally. The other, far smaller in comparison, wearing bright cherry red shorts and a button-up shirt with puppies on the fabric.

Marinette lifts the basket. “They like to weekend garage sale hunt during the summer. I decided to come with. And you? Garage sales don’t seem quite your speed,” she comments with a teasing smile.

He points at the house. “My brother lives here.” His brother’s house… which all his siblings are at… around here… right now…

Fuck.

A contingent of assassins or aliens or zombies would be great right this second.

“Ahh…” she says brightly. “It’ll be nice to finally meet them, after all you’ve said. Well… Texted.” They kept a cordial correspondence since the park two weeks ago. And by cordial, Damian meant he never texted a single person more than Marinette – although Jon came close. Although this was the first time he had seen her in person since their outing at the park. Thankfully Marinette refrained from mentioning the impulsive offer to take her out to dine, which Damian immediately regretted, the offer far too overly familiar for their short and casual acquaintance.

He shakes away his mental musing. “Hold your judgment until you converse with them, many find them intolerable once they open their mouths.”

She giggles – an action which Damian normally despises for those older than small children in the single digits – but which the French woman somehow makes bearable.

“Oh, come on, they can’t be that bad.”

“No, they are worse.”

“Hey, who ya talkin’ to over here little D’?” asks Todd approaching from the sidewalk with windswept hair and a skateboard in hand. His older brother turns to Marinette. “Sorry if he said somethin’ rude miss. We tried socializin’ him, but it never took.”

Damian rolls his eyes at the juvenile insult. “Hello Todd, did you tire of enticing small children with reckless actions? Or did your injection have a point?”

Todd rolls his eyes. “The kiddos were plenty safe. They had more protection than me even.” True. All of the kids wore helmets and knee pads. Compared to a barren Todd, who forewent his leather jacket, and was clad only in jeans and a t-shirt. “And I always have a point to make. This one is makin’ sure you aren’t buggin’ a potential customer.”

“I’m perfectly fine. Thanks,” states Marinette with a half-amused, half sarcastic look stretching across her face. “It’s not like I’m standing here and can speak for myself or anything.”

“Ouch, customer’s got claws.”

“Todd do go make a nuisance of yourself elsewhere.” Todd ranked last in Damian’s siblings he wished to introduce Marinette to. He risked a quick glance over at Drake, who so far had not moved from his seat, but had stopped reading off his phone and now not-so-subtly eavesdropped on the conversation.

Okay. Maybe Todd ranked second-to-last.

His older brother raises an eyebrow. “Okay, okay, sheesh I was just tryin’ to be polite and all.”

“It’s fine Damian and I were just catching up,” says Marinette.

Damian inwardly groans. No. That would just make the annoying gnat more interested, not less.

Jason’s eyes perk up, like demented little meerkats popping from the ground. “Oh, you and Damian know each other?” He glances at Damian, years of silent fieldwork conveying a couple of concepts.

Know as in civilian interaction?

Know as in superhero civilian identity?

Or know as in ‘my mother is on the way with assassins and she’s the welcoming party?’

Damian returns the look.

‘The first one, obviously.’

Unfortunately, that does not decrease Todd’s curiosity. “Well, nice to see Demon spawn making friends. I’m just gonna go this way, you two kids have-”

“You rude little brat!” came a screeching voice from the end of the driveway.

Heads swivel to find a frumpy-looking woman in too-tight yoga pants, and a ‘Live, Laugh, Love’ t-shirt standing with her hips cocked and arms crossed on the sidewalk. Large black sunglasses do little to disguise the utter disgust on her face as she gazes down at Mar’i’s makeshift lemonade stand. Her large white SUV runs parked in front of the driveway. Mar’i – utterly unruffled – stares back with a Pennyworth patented eyebrow raise as the woman grows more irritated.

Damian tenses, ready to jump to his niece’s defense. Whoever this woman thinks she is, she vastly overestimated her ability to manage anything his family can throw at her. Drake already has his phone’s camera flipped on and ready to record the interaction.

Richard, in full-on protective mode, jogs over to the stand. “What seems to be the problem over here?” he asks, placing himself between the irate woman and Mar’i.

The woman’s personality shifts in an instant. A sickly-sweet smile replaces her sneer. “Oh, I just wanted to let this girl know it’s illegal to sell food and drinks without a permit, and she was rude to me. The manners children these days have,” she giggles, high and nasally.

Damian exchanges a glance with Todd.

This dumbass has no clue.

“Well, I’m sure my daughter was perfectly respectable,” responds Richard, flat and unimpressed with the woman’s flirtatious simpering.

Two red blotches bloom on the woman’s cheeks as she stutters, “Oh, uh, well I don’t- I didn’t-” She bounces her head back and forth between Ricard and Mar’i like she’s trying to make sense of a complicated puzzle. Damian rolls his eyes, it’s not like they look so dissimilar; with the exception of Mar’i inheriting her mother’s skin.

“And this is my house and my garage sale, and I said it was fine for my kid to sell lemonade. Like any other normal kid during the summer.” Richard’s voice is just on the side of polite reprimand, rather than pure condescension.

“He’s trying to reason with her,” whispers a voice in his ear. Damian barely restrains jumping at Marinette’s comment. “That won’t work. She’s Delun and Patrick’s neighbor and happens to be the absolute worst.”

The woman continues to bluster. “Well- well, it’s still illegal.”

“According to what?” Richard asks incredulously. “Are you seriously raising a fuss about a six-year-old selling lemonade and cookies?”

Mar’i shook her head. “She said I had to take it down or she would call the police dad.”

Marinette scoffs. “She would too, she called the police because Delun hung rainbow banners during June.”

“This woman picked the wrong family to mess with,” Todd grumbles, stepping forward to join Richard. Damian shoots out a hand to stop him.

“Your interference will not alleviate the situation. Allow Richard to handle her,” he chides. Todd sneers but stays put.

Richard laughs “The police? HA! Yeah right!”

The woman’s face reddens even further. “Ugh! Do you even know who I am?”

Richard raises an unimpressed brow. “No.”

She huffs, puffing up her chest and tilting her nose into the air with haughty arrogance she could not at all carry off. “I’m Jessica Merope-Laverne the Hidden Fall’s HOA assistant secretary.”

“Okay… And?”

She stomps her foot on the ground like a petulant child. “And if you don’t make her take this down right now, I’ll not only call the police but also write a report about you breaking your HOA contract.”

“Come on Jessie lighten up,” says one of the men Marinette came with, the big one. “It’s just a lemonade stand, and you’re the one causin’ a fuss.”

She whips the sunglasses off her face and directs her red-hot glare at the two men. “Well, if it isn’t the Hamada-Cordons,” she sneers, making her already over-makeup face even more unpleasant. “Why are you out and about interacting with normal people? Shouldn’t you be reveling in your perversions elsewhere?”

“Sorry, hun,” drawls the shorter man in a heavy southern accent. “We only do our ritual sacrifices to the gods the second weekend of every month. We had just enough time to squeeze in some garage-saleing today. Where were you at the last bonfire, got lost on your broom on the way over?”

“They hate her,” Marinette whispers with a barely contained laughter.

“I think the sentiment is returned,” he responds.

“Go burn on a stake,” Merope-Laverne snipes.

“Why don’t you shove one up your-” the larger man slaps a hand over the smaller one’s mouth and smiles blandly.

“Ugh,” she sniffs pulling out her phone. “I will not be bullied by children and leftist sheeple into standing down. This is in clear violation of neighborhood policy, and I’m sure the county has rules against it too. I am not in the wrong here, I’m just trying to maintain clear order and rules.” She grabs her phone from her handbag.

“I think I have a plan,” whispers Marinette.

“Wait,” Damian calls, but she flutters away leaving the lingering scent of lemongrass and citrus in her wake.

“What?” questions Todd. “You’re gonna let her go?”

Damian shoots him a piercing glare. “Shut up,” he mutters.

Marinette saunters to the driveway’s end, pushing past Richard and Mar’i, and stands in front of them like a tiny, but mighty, shield.

Marinette’s smile is thin and mocking as she says, “Jessica, poule mouillée, lovely to see you again.”

“Did she just call her a wet chicken?” breathes Todd. Drake looks ready to die over on his lawn chair from holding in laughter.

“Marnie,” sneers Merope-Laverne, clicking off her phone.

“Marinette,” she corrects without blinking an eye.

“Whatever. Get lost the adults are having a real conversation here.”

Marinette rolls her eyes. “No, you’re having… oh how do you Americans call it? Ah! Yes. A “hissy fit”. So, why don’t you do all of us and yourself a favor and just leave, before you embarrass yourself even more.”

Merope-Laverne turns an even brighter shade of red, and spits, “Why would I listen to the French hussy of those two queer-ass fags. I’m just trying to be a good American citizen and do my part to keep the neighborhood…” she looks over Mar’i with a disgusted glance that sends Damian’s blood boiling. “Civilized.”

Damian’s entire family stands at the ready to attack this woman with no questions asked. Her comments crossing the fucking line. Damian palms a small knife in hand ready to pounce. Further up the driveway, the smaller man Marinette arrived with struggles to break out of the larger one’s hold. Although the larger man’s face similarly looks apocalyptic.

But Marinette only smiles blandly, and shifts, ever so slightly, on her feet. It raises her shoulders and projects out an air of confidence and… power. The woman subconsciously backs up.

“Do watch your language, there are children about,” Marinette chides, her voice colder than ice. “But if you’re concerned about crimes sooo much, maybe you should worry more about the bigger one happening right now.” She gestures to Merope-Laverne’s car which is gaining speed down the hill into the empty cul-de-sac below. “Your car is about to run a stop sign.”

The woman turns with a gasp and immediately starts chasing after her car with a hiccupping gait. She runs beside it, unable to open any of the doors as it makes its way down the hill and out of sight.

“How… unlucky,” Marinette comments lightly with a serene smile. The entire driveway falls into shocked silence.

Damian stares.

Blinks once.

Then twice.

Todd slaps a hand on his shoulder, and it is only through years of training Damian does not jump. “Demon brat you might wanna close your mouth, you’ll catch flies.”

He slams his mouth shut with an audible click, shooting a hateful glare at Todd. “Do be silent,” he grits.

His older brother shrugs, a shit-eating grin adorning his annoying face. “Sure, little D’. But just so ya know, that chick seems way out of your league.” Damian ignores the ridiculous implications and stomps over to the growing crowd around Marinette and Mar’i closely followed by Todd

“Miss Marinette!” Mar’i calls out in a high excited scream. His niece rushes the woman, who bends down and swings the little girl up into her arms. Marinette easily holds the girl up with one arm and uses her other hand to bop the girl’s nose.

“Mademoiselle Mar’i! Oh, what wretched things that woman said, are you alright?”

Mar’i giggles and nods her head. “Yep! You sure showed her didn’t you!”

Marinette laughs, “All in a day’s work ma petite fleur!”

Richard rushes over. “Mar’i you can’t just hug random people!”

Mar’i frowns, and a panicky dread fills Damian’s chest. “But Dad Miss Marinette isn’t random. She’s Uncle Dami’s friend.”

Richard’s eyes climb high on his face. “Oh!” Damian scowls at his questioning glance, and the irritating man just smiles like a cat with a canary and turns back to Marinette with an extended hand. Marinette shakes it firmly.

“Well, nice to meet you I’m Dick, Damian’s older brother. And you already know my lovely daughter Mar’i.”

“Dad she’s the one who made my crowns!” She points to the one on her head.

“And what wonderful crowns they are princess,” Mar’i jumps over to her father’s arms, and he catches her without hesitation. He glances back at Marinette with a sheepish grin. “No seriously, they’re wonderful crowns, Mar’i never stops wearing them. They’re sturdy.”

Marinette blushes, ducking her head. “Thank you. I make them myself.”

“Excuse me, comin’ through y’all.” A whirlwind mess of limbs and color elbows his way into the crowd. “Oh hun,” calls the smaller man Marinette arrived with. He throws two lanky arms around Marinette’s shoulder and smacks a kiss against her temple. “That was positively g-lorious!” He exclaims with a sing-songy tune. “You sure showed that bitc-” he spares a quick glance and Mar’i who just giggles. “-bitter old hag who’s boss. No one messes with the Hamada-Cordons!”

“Delun, you know I’m not related to you.”

He rolls his eyes. “Oh hush, hun, you are family in our hearts and that counts just as much.”

The larger man – Patrick, Damian decides – walks over with a smile and pats Marinette on the shoulder. “Good going, little lady,” he says gruffly.

“Yeah, that was serious Matilda-level shenaniganry right there,” comments Jason with a smirk. “I approve.”

“What’s a Matilda?” asks Mar’i.

Todd and Marinette gasp in synchrony.

“What’s a Matilda? Golden boy why haven’t you shown her Matilda?”

Marinette presses a hand to her chest. “Quelle honte! Quelle parodie! Oh, ma petite fleur, you’ve been deprived!”

“Okay, okay, sheesh!” Richard pinches the bridge of his nose. “It’ll be next on the list I promise.”

“Three pitchers of the lemonade, as requested!” calls Kory’s strong voice, breaking through the gathered crowd of people. She emerges balancing the three full pitchers on a platter. “What in the star fields is going on here?”

Mar’i wiggles out of her father’s arms and runs over to her mother. “Mom! A woman tried to get me to shut down my lemonade stand, and she said she would call the police, and dad tried to make her leave, and then Miss Marinette – she’s the one that made my flower crowns – she made her car roll down the hill like a Matilda! But I don’t know what a Matilda is?”

“Oh my, it seems I have missed a most glorious battle.” She raises an inquisitive eye at her husband, who shrugs with a look that reads, ‘We’ll talk about it later.’

“Kory, darlin’,” says Delun. “It was Jessie.”

Kory frowns. “Oh, that irritating zarbnarf! I am so sorry I was not here to defend you my little bumgorf.”

Mar’i shrugs, as in the way small children are often wont to do, the incident was mostly forgotten now due to the many people talking to and fawning over her. “It’s fine mom.”

“Wait,” says Todd, flicking his eye back and forth between Kory and Hamada-Cordons. “You all know each other?”

“We ran into Kory and Mar’i at the pool last summer and got to talking about weapons. We told her about our ax-throwing range in our backyard,” explains Patrick. “And invited her over to test it out.”

Kory beams. “And what magnificent fun it was!” Then snarls her nose. “Until Jessica interceded upon our enjoyment and threatened to report us!”

Delun scoffs. “Not that she could’a done a darn thing. We registered the range and put in writin’ long before she moved in.”

“Okay folks, the show’s over, no need to crowd up here!” calls Stephanie. “If you want refreshments, I’m sure Mar’i can take care of you.” Her loud voice and Todd’s menacing stance, disperse the crowd, thinning out everyone who was not an extended Wayne family member, or Marinette and her friends.

Marinette slides back over to Damian’s side. “I like your family. They seem…”

“Overbearing? Insufferable? Meddlesome?”

Marinette shakes her head. “Genuine.”

“Tt. Nothing but genuinely annoying perhaps.”

She smiles, “Ah, but doesn’t that mean they love you enough to relax around you? A perfect façade seems nice upon the surface, but once one digs deeper there is nothing there but hot air. Genuine people are imperfect people, and that’s what makes them worth knowing and loving.”

The words strike him in the chest. A long-forgotten echo rises unbidden in his mind.

‘Can you not love me for who I am? Not what you want me to be?”

‘No. That’s not my nature. I’m too much of a perfectionist.’

“I- I- suppose there is an ounce truth to that.” Damian buries his mother’s sharp words ignoring the burn of abandonment and longing in his chest. He should not entertain such thoughts.

At least, not in the light of day.

“Miss Marinette! Uncle Dami! Here!” Mar’i, queen of convenient distraction, appears carrying a plate of cookies balancing atop two glasses of lemonade. Damian rescues the precariously placed cookies while Marinette snags the drinks.

“Merci beaucoup, ma petite fleur,” coos Marinette.

“Da rien!” beams Mar’i before running back to her stand. Marinette blinks, a delighted smile blooming across her face at his niece’s response.

“She wished to converse in your own language. I helped teach her a few basic sayings,” he says. Mar’i did not gain her mother’s particular… ability to gain linguistic talents, nor if she had would it be appropriate for a six-year-old to go kissing people on the lips. He was not fluent in French, but his knowledge reached conversationally and certainly enough for the niceties Mar’i wished to convey.

“Comme c'est attentionné de vous deux,” Marinette says with a sweet smile.

Damian’s cheeks feel warmer than before. It must be the heat.

“It- It was of no hardship,” he mumbles, taking a sip of lemonade to avoid opening his traitorous mouth again. What was it about this woman that made him lose all sense of caution?

Before he can think too deeply on the topic, Stephanie and Cassandra approach.

Oh.

Oh no.

“Thanks for defending our little Mar’i,” says Stephanie, her hand darting out and grabbing one of the cookies from his plate, he was too slow to stop her. “Was that telekinesis?” she asks, stuffing the cookie into her mouth.

“Stephanie,” he hisses. “You can not simply ask-”

His pseudo-sister waves him away. “I’m just being friendly demon-brat, she used her powers in public and I’m curious.”

“That’s our little witch!” calls Delun, still nearby in a conversation with Richard and Kory.

“Not a witch!” Marinette calls back cheerily.

“You can make wards hun!”

Marinette rolls her eyes. “So can anyone else with an open energy connection and thirty minutes on the internet.” She turns to Stephanie with a shy smile. “It’s magic, in a way.”

Stephanie scrunches her face. “So, what? Like a meta?”

Marinette shrugs her shoulders. “Hmmm… maybe. I never looked too much into it. Meta abilities are… looked down upon in France.” Her tone makes it quite clear what she thinks of that. Damian’s knowledge of what the Europeans do with their meta-humans beyond cursory interactions with the Justice League is limited.

He shall have to correct that gap.

“There’s a Meta-Human Alliance chapter here in Gotham,” offers Cassandra, her voice low and melodious. Must be one of her good days to speak out loud.

The French woman smiles tightly. “Thank you, although I think I’ll pass. It’s just a bit of magic-infused luck.” Damian represses a scoff, although from Marinette’s side glance it seems he was not successful.

“You can see what your brother thinks of that. You can be boring too and call it statistical probability manipulation.”

Stephanie tilts her head. “And how does that translate to making a car roll down a hill?” Stephanie may be the one asking the question, but every single one of his siblings is paying attention, even if they are moderately decent at looking like they’re minding their own business.

Marinette, seemingly oblivious to the oncoming interrogation, perks at the question, her eyes lighting up. “You see it’s not impossible Jessica’s car would roll down the hill after her semi-loose gear stick slipped from park to drive; merely improbable. I manipulate the energies around such events to give them a higher possibility of happening.”

Damian raises a brow at the explanation. He certainly never forgot Marinette’s little demonstration at the festival, but he thought it mostly related to trick shots and coin flips. This sounds… larger.

“How can you make sure you manipulate the right energies?” asks Cassandra.

Marinette’s smile is wry. “Lots and lots of practice. Along with the luck comes a heightened sense of pattern recognition. I know what will cause certain chains of events to happen, as well as how people tend to react.”

“Though good heavens know we had to teach ya how to direct it,” interjects Delun, walking over. “Poor girl came to that first crochet meetin’ and Patty said she was leakin’ magic all over the place.”

Marinette flushes pink across the tops of her cheeks and rolls her eyes. “Yes, yes, I know. I was useless. I never really had formal instruction before I met Patrick and Delun, they helped me in honing energy direction and the pattern recognition.”

“That must make you a very good chess player,” muses Cassandra, always eager to suck others into her never-ending quest for a chess partner that will not run at the sight of her.

“I wouldn’t know, I’ve never played,” admits Marinette, taking a sip of her lemonade.

“Pity,” says Cassandra, with a smile similar to a canary-catching cat. “I can teach you some time if you want?”

“Back to the powers,” interjects Stephanie, cutting off Cassandra’s attempt to ensnare her newest victim. “By that explanation, you could manipulate people too?”

Delun gasps, clutching his chest. “Little miss sunshine? Goodness personified? Yeah right, you have a higher likely hood crusin’ through Spaghetti Junction during rush hour on a Friday.”

Marinette sighs, exhausted and annoyed. “That’s sweet Delun, but technically, yes. I could manipulate a person.”

Damian’s stomach drops at the admission.

What if-?

Had she-?

Are these feelings-?

Marinette continues, “But the amount of energy, time, and sheer force of will, to manipulate another person is hardly worth the effort – besides I manipulate statistical probabilities. Inert objects don’t tend to move or fluctuate, so the amount of energy used to guide them in a different path is minimal and quite stable. A person though?” Marinette scoffs. “Do you know how many actions, thoughts, and emotions a single person has in a day? Never mind their interactions with others. Hundreds of thousands, if not millions. An object? A couple hundred at the high end. The headache it causes to directly manipulate a person’s actions; blinding.”

“Besides, only the lowest of magic users would go against will like that,” says Patrick, coming up beside his husband. “Little Miss isn’t a black witch, and neither are we.”

Marinette shrugs, but Damian notices a tense shift of her movement as if the woman is holding onto her emotions with razor-thin control. “Anything is possible if you feed enough power into it, and the situation is dire. I’ve never done it myself, but I probably could if there was no other way.” She smiles wryly. “Not that I would be involved in a situation which would require that kind of force.”

“Not that I’m saying you would, but sweetheart,” Delun coos, “This is Gotham.”

“I’m trying to be optimistic,” Marinette sighs. “Stop ruining it.”

“This is the city where optimism goes to die a swift and painful death via vis a crime rate higher than America’s obesity epidemic,” says Stephanie, with a blinding smile. “Perfect for family vacations and relaxing getaways.”

Marinette grins, sharp and predatory. In her white dress and pigtails, the sight should not seem terrifying, but it is. “That’s why I carry brass knuckles and pepper spray on me at all times. It’s much easier to kick a person’s ass the old-fashioned way than play around with luck.”

Stephanie barks out a laugh, brown eyes glinting in the afternoon sun. “I like the way you think, girlie. You fight?”

“Whenever I get the chance, but I’ve lacked a good sparring partner lately.” She smiles at Patrick. “You’re great for boxing practice, but I’m missing the chance for kickflips, and grapple holds.” Patrick shrugs, but he does not appear offended.

Meanwhile, Damian tries suppressing the panic in his stomach at his sisters’ hungry grins directed at the smaller woman. “I have offered before,” he reminds her. “If you would like-”

Stephanie slides up to Marinette and places an arm around her. “Ignore him. Do you want a real fight? Well, Cass and I are always looking to add someone new into the rotation!”

“Well- I- uh do not think-” Damian sputters, losing control of the situation.

“Come on Damian, you said it yourself I would get along with them!”

Cassandra’s eyes brighten as she joins Stephanie and their newly captured prey. “Oh, did he?” she asks. “Damian is a great judge of character. We’ll get along swimmingly,” she grins as she and Stephanie lead Marinette away and interrogates her about her fighting routine.

Marinette flashes him a brief mouthed ‘sorry’ before becoming fully engulfed in the tumultuous current of his sisters’ attention.

“Sorry kiddo, that was a fight you were bound to lose,” comments Delun with a conciliatory pat on the shoulder. “Come on Patty, I wanted a chance to look in the garage. Looks like Nettie will be busy for a while.” The men walk away leaving Damian alone.

Damn.

He grips the plastic cup full of watered-down lemonade and takes a small sip. Still refreshing. He listens to the laughter coming from the three women with building dread. The stares from the rest of his family land on him with undisguised noisiness.

In most situations, Damian would solve this problem like he does all his others.

Vicious purging at the source for all non-necessary complications.

Marinette is a complication.

He risks another glance. Marinette’s face is bright and animated as she talks rapidly to Stephanie and Cassandra, her hands flapping in exaggerated movements to accompany her explanation. The sight, as simple and mundane as it is, tightens his chest in an unknown feeling. He does not like unknowns.

But she is seemingly one he can not bring himself to walk away from.

TAG List

@pepelachanel @hammalammadamdam

#damian x marinette #maribat #maridami #damimari #mlb crossover #ml x dc #marinette dupain cheng x damian wayne #marinette dupain-cheng x damian wayne #damianette #daminette #flower crown chronicles #lemonade #these two idiots

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delicrieux · 4 years ago

Text

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 10: BIG DICK IS BACK IN TOWN

y/n is back in brooklyn for the holidays. thinking that a stream will make her feel less homesick for cali, she starts working on her famously titled hentai.free.srv. what was supposed to be a relaxing stream turns into a special delivery about two hours in.

─── corpse husband x reader ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 2.2k ─── ❥ req: Here's one... You know those apps for delivery like Domino's or whatnot... What if reader is streaming Among Us with Corpse, and reader mentions they're hungry and Corpse offers to order them food, and readers like no no it's fine... Then there's delivery at the door (Corpse ordered beforehand)

author’s note: fucky format is also back in town baby!!! also if you find any mistakes - no u didnt <3 thank u everyone for enjoying this story sm i literally cant believe how feral yall going strawberry cow was a nuclear explosion im still recovering tbh. got an ask a while ago and decided to incorporate it into myso. happy holidays everyone! myso will continue on monday!

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Indeed, being soft on any social media platform was the biggest disgrace and needed to be eliminated post haste. Moreover, it was a slippery slope - once you start flooding your timeline with cute imagery and heart emojis, what will stop you from posting inspirational Facebook quotes? Disgusting. If Rae were here, she would chide you (not you thinking about her as if she’s dead or something). For once in your life, you feel like you deserve it.

Alas, you hope this little chaos you’ve caused is enough to throw everyone off. The stans, especially. You know the hashtags, you’ve seen ARMY scourging for info online with the same fervor and ruthlessness 1 Direction fans hacked airport security cameras just to spy on the boys. If you had any dirty secrets online, they are out to the public now - thankfully, besides the Harry Styles stan account (with edits and all), you have nothing. Though, now that you think about it, exposed nudes would have been better than your Punk!Harry edit receiving almost a million views. God, your life’s a fucking mess.

Your fans aren’t the only ones out for info - you, too, are trying to decipher Rae’s message. Code: Barbecue Sauce. The two of you had come up with it roughly two years ago, around the same time when you promised that if you didn’t find significant others by the time you’re 40, you’ll just marry each other. It was one of the many rules found in your friendship codex. Barbecue Sauce signifies information - an exchange of information. And depending on how it ends or begins (”So I’m sitting there” alludes to Rae, “On my titties” alludes to you), secret data on that person is given away, usually free of charge.

But why? And to whom did Rae give away what? You had pestered her mercilessly and even sent some voice messages where you were crying. You were only crying because of a video of a grandpa smiling you saw on TikTok, but you are a snake, and so you put those tears to good use. If streaming doesn’t work out, you’ll just become an actress. Hollywood would love you. Your PR firm sure as fuck wouldn’t, though.

Rae was having none of it. She said you’ll figure it out eventually. Told you to channel your superior puzzle skills. You were quick to remind her that you can barely count to ten without having an aneurysm. Oddly serious, she admitted that she worries for you sometimes. Why only sometimes?! you demanded. She merely sighed. uttering under her breath something that sounded closely to “Boke.”

You leave her for barely a week and she’s already neck deep in the gay volleyball anime, hoodie and cardboard cutout and everything. Your life is falling apart.

But Brooklyn is nice. It had snowed when you stepped off of the plane. Thousands of snowflakes sprinkling into your hair, dotting your cheeks and nose. You missed this sight back in Cali. You missed your parents, too.

Home cooked meals, old sweaters, your old room and about 40GB worth of old high school pictures on your computer. You went through them all one night. Some were stomach churning, cringe inducing nightmares. You were especially fond of those. Texted some of your friends that were still in Brooklyn, met up, decided to bake. Bad idea, Rae was the resident chef back in Cali. Besides laughing till your stomach hurt, and almost burning down your kitchen, nothing all that significant happened. Somewhere down the line, at about 3 am, half-way through a cheesy rom-com you had the overwhelming urge to text Corpse.

That’s where the problems really started. God, you missed California, missed being in the same timezone with a guy you hadn’t even met yet, how embarrassing is that?! You missed skating around and taking pictures of the beach in the setting sun, sending it to him, silently wishing he was with you to admire the view.

You really want to call him. And to hang out with him. But for some reason, the thought of that springs up immediate anxiety and you shy away from asking. Him sending you cute good morning texts doesn’t help, either. Maybe it’s better he doesn’t know that you’re a blushing, stuttering mess each time you read “baby”.

Late evening. Your stream is already set up, people are slowly trickling in and you greet them with a grin and a soft “Hello! Hi hi!”. You did your best to make your room a perfectly chaotic backdrop - led lights, an embarrassing amount of anime merch and plushies. You always try to balance out your weeb side by dressing hot as fuck for your streams - today’s inspiration just so happens to be egirls. Mostly because you watched one too many egirl make-up tutorials on TikTok, and also because you’ve been listening to Corpse’s song all day.

Yeah, no, who are you kidding, you dressed up this way because you were hoping Corpse was watching your stream. You didn’t forget your cat headphones, either. You know he likes them. You want to make him suffer. Perhaps then, finally, he will ask you out, so you wouldn’t have to.

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“I feel like,” You start when you put away your phone, staring idly at the chat, “I feel like I need a new name for you guys. Calling you guys after two years of streaming is just... weird, no? I also don’t respect men so I don’t want to call you guys. Like, so many creator’s have, like, a name for their fans. Uhm, Cody Ko has the chodesters, Kurtis Conner has, uh, folks? Kurtis Town? Citizens! Markiplier has mommy issues--” You can’t help snorting, “So, I’ve been, like, thinking - I know, shocking! - so I was thinking I’m gonna name you cockroaches. Because you’re grimy little shits impossible to kill. And also then I can use the legendary Minaj meme ROACHES!”

Your stream enthusiastically echoes ROACHES, making the chat swim. Yes, if anyone would enjoy such a name, it would be your audience. You’re as equally proud as you are disturbed.

“Well, anyway.” Leaning back into your chair, you throw your arms out with a bright grin, “Big dick is back in town, baby! If you noticed the backdrops different, it’s cuz I’m in Brooklyn now. Don’t ask me when I will return to Always Sunny, I don��t plan that far ahead.”

While Minecraft boots up, you decide to answer a few questions.

r u dating sykkuno?

You want to smack your head into the keyboard, but as it is, you can’t exactly afford a new one, so you refrain, “No, Sykkuno and I are not dating, we are just good friends. Uhm, I’m not sure how much I’ll have to repeat this, but, we really aren’t, so if the roaches could chill - Oh my God, that sounds so stupid, I love it - uh, yeah, if the roaches could chill that’d be great.”

the roaches lmao sounds like we’re a sports team

“Oh shit, yeah it does, uh-- maybe I can make like, jerseys or something. That’d be cool, I think.”

how disappointed are your parents with the way your life turned out?

“My parents are actually not disappointed at all!” You say with a cute little smile, “Uhm, they’re both really proud, actually. They’re glad I found something I love doing and made a job outta it. Dad finds my Youtube videos endearing. Yes, they watch pretty much all of my videos, unless I explicitly tell them not to. And yeah, with all the fucks and thirsting for anime characters. Uhm, it was very embarrassing at first, but I mean, after a while, shame just...doesn’t exist anymore, I guess? Funny thing about my parents, actually, when they watch my videos-” You eye catches a comment, “Oh! No, they only watch my Youtube videos. They don’t know how to use Twitter, thank God. Uhm, anyway-- when they hear a name they don’t know, like, I dunno, Dabi, or something, they google--” You’re grinning by now, eyes crinkling, giggling softly, “--who that is, and buy me like, merch and stuff. It’s really cute.

can i be adopted by ur parents plz

will you and corpse ever collab?!

You were about to answer, though the man of the hour himself decides to do it for you.

Corpse_Husband: yes.

Okay, not to say your heart skipped a beat, but it totally did. With a pleased smile, you nod, like one of those bobble head toys sold at the dollar store. The motion is oddly reminiscent of Sykkuno’s own nod. Perhaps you had picked it up from him. The chat seems to notice.

pack it up, sykkuno

More questions pile about this mysterious collab you and Corpse are planning. Yeah, you’d like to hear more about it, too, since he single highhandedly decided one was happening right now. Corpse remains silent. Fine, keep your secrets.

“Okay, guys, oh, I mean, roaches, Oh my God--” You’re covering your mouth, giggling, “-calling all roaches, calling all roaches, calm down. Everyone grab a snack and a blanket I’m turning up the music volume so we can all chill. Entering chill zone. Entering chill zone. Roaches, prepare.”

we are prepared

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An hour or so passes and you grow hungry. It shows with the amount of cakes you had baked in your server. Currently, you find yourself throwing eggs at the wall of one of the renovated houses, your face scrunched in concentration and slight frustration. 24 of the 50 eggs have been wasted. “What’s a girl gotta do to get some chicks around here?” you had uttered under your breath, until, finally, a screech - the egg finally spawns a mob. Your mouth falls open, “Aww, look!” You approach it, so small, walking in zigzags beside you, “It’s a baby chicken! Die, bitch.” The baby chicken is no more as you swing your bedazzled (you have mods) diamond sword. You’re cackling by the time the dust settles.

y/n is a child murderer

“Roaches,” You address your fan-base, spurring another fit of laughter - you can’t get over the name, “I think I’m like, forgetting that eating in Minecraft won’t actually make less hungry in real life.”

take a break and go eat queen <3

“Fuck no, we starve and die like men. Now I actually really need another chicken.”

Another twenty minutes trickle by and you’re trying to lure back a panda from the jungle when there’s a knock on your bedroom’s door. Whipping your head to the side, you slide down your headphones. At the same time, your mom pokes her head through the ajar door, “MOM!” You scream, “Get OUT of my room I’m playing Minecraft!” But your yell has no actual bite to it, as you don’t manage to hide your smile. Your mom laughs, doing some sort of sign language and motioning for you to follow her with her head. That or it’s some sort of performative dance.

“I’m live right now,” You tell her, pointing at your screen. She knows this already, though, “do you want to say hi?”

The roaches spam the chat with friendly hellos. You mom, quite impatient now, waves you over.

“Sorry, roaches, mom needs something. Be back in a bit!”

Stopping the stream, you rush out of your seat and pleased she slinks into the hallway. “What’s this about?”

“Your pizza came.”

“My what now?” You echo, confused.

“Domino’s. You ordered pizza?”

“What? No? I was busy with the stream, I never--”

Thankfully, you had managed to grab your phone from your room before you exited. You almost choke on spit once you read the messages.

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You decide that it’ll be impossible to stream after experiencing what you had just experienced. You tweet out a quick apology to the roaches (God, that fucking name) and say that you had a breakdown but you’re okay. That is as a close to the truth as you managed to muster. It’s a sad sight, chewing and crying; your mom winced when she saw your state - disheveled hair and rundown eyeliner and everything. “D’aww,” She had muttered, caressing the top of your head, “don’t cry my little raccoon.”

If anyone was ever to ask you where did your chaotic nature come from, you’d answer with my mom. To make yourself feel better, you took a selfie - duck face and peace sign and the horrible 2000′s angle. Sent it to Rae.

looking hot, her message read.

thanks, was all you replied with.

You couldn’t just leave things as they were. Once you calmed down, you wanted to text Corpse, but how would you follow up the ungodly caps lock and screeching? Impossible. An idea sprung to mind, one that was brave. Taking the first step.

Instead of sending a text, you sent a voice memo.

“Thank you for the pizza, it was delicious.”

You voice still sounded a bit raspy. His reply was instant. Your heart skipped a beat. He sent a voice memo back.

“Glad you liked it, baby.”

He was going to be the death of you.

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tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @slashersdream - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai - @truly-dionysus - @multi-fandom-central707

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse husband imagine #corpse social media au #corpse husband fanfic #social media au #corpse husband x y/n #corpse x y/n #corpse husband fic #reader #xreader #imagine #imagines #myso #make you say oh

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anonymousfiction211 · 4 years ago

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Hancuffed together Chapter 3: ‘Free’

Summary: Loki and you were hancuffed together, because the team was sick of the two fo you not getting along. Today they come finally back from a mission, setting you ‘free’ from Loki. Word count: 2.579 words

Warnings: Smut, dubious consent, knifeplay, praise A/N: I wrote another chapter, hope you like it. If you have any ideas, suggestions or comments, please let me know :)!

Click here for chatper 1 Click here for chapter 2

To say you were physically tired would be an understatement. Loki had you in a tight grip, still asleep. He had woken you two times that night to ‘play with you’ as he liked to put it. He was breaking you down. Each time you put up less of a fight and he was starting to push your boundaries. The truth is, you kind of loved what he was doing to your body. It was intense, even painful sometimes, but the pleasure was well worth it. His personality sadly hadn’t changed. He was still as arrogant, egotistic, moody, and snarky as he had always been.

You shook Loki awake, who just grumbled grumpily at you. ‘I’m hungry’ you said. He turned around to lay on his back, eyes still closed. ‘Sounds like a you-problem’ he replied. You sat up straight and tugged a few times at the cuffs. Loki sighed but got up with you. The two of you were eating breakfast in silence. Even tough you were fixing your eyes on your eggs, you felt Loki’s gaze boring into you. You were startled when the rest of the team loudly made their entrance. ‘Tony, you owe me 10 bucks’ Steve said. ‘Ho, ho, there is still time’ Tony replied. ‘So, how has the lovely couple been doing for the past two days?’ he mused. You both glared at Tony who put his hands up in defence ‘Let me rephrase, how are the two of you doing?’ he quickly said.

‘Fine’ you said irritated at Tony and Loki just nodded. ‘How was the mission?’ Loki asked. Natasha quickly explained that they were staking out and tracking some people of Hydra, but hadn’t had much luck. You were waiting impatiently until she was done. ‘So, can we take these off now?’ you asked holding up the cuffs. ‘Sure’ Steve said, motioning for Tony to take them off. ‘How do we know it worked?’ Thor asked them. Everyone looked at the two of you. ‘We’ve come to an understanding’ Loki replied for the both of you. A big smile appeared on Thor’s face ‘I say we keep them together for this day. To be sure they truly improved their behaviour’. If you could murder people by glaring at them, you had just murdered Thor. Before you could protest Loki had already agreed. If you disagreed know, they surely wouldn’t believe the two of you. ‘Can we just take them off for half an hour? So, I can take a shower?’ you asked. After the group had a quick discussion they agreed. But only if you and Loki would willingly put the cuffs back on after half an hour. If not, the two of you were on house arrest together for the rest of the month.

After you were free, even if it was for a short amount of time, you quickly walked to your room and locked the door. You got rid of your clothes and jumped into the shower. It felt good to have some alone time. After a while there was a knock on the door ‘You have 10 minutes left’ Tony said. ‘Just one more day, you can do this’ you whispered to yourself. You got out of the shower and dried yourself off. You walked back to the bedroom to get some clothes out of your closet. That’s when you saw a dark green bustier on the bed with a matching thong. There was a note next to it which elegantly spelled your name. You opened the note: See you in 10 minutes, kitten – L. There was no way you were wearing that. He could be such an asshole sometimes. You were wondering how he even got in here. You checked the door, but it was still locked. It donned on you that the both of you had your powers back. And this must be Loki’s passive aggressive way of telling you that he could go and come as he pleases.

You were absolutely furious at Loki. But two could play it this game. You got dressed and instead of the green lingerie you chose your red bra and thong. If things did get out of hand, and you had a feeling they will, he will be pissed at you for wearing his brother’s colours. After you got dressed you walked back to the living room, where Tony was already waiting with the cuffs. He had an amused smile on his face. Loki entered shortly after you, having a blank expression on his face. Tony cuffed the two of you back together and the rest of the team went about there day. You had to be honest, cuffed together with Loki was awkward at first, but now that the team was here it was a whole lot more uncomfortable.

The two of you settled down on the couch. You both were reading a book, but this time you both had different books and you were wearing more clothes than the last time Loki ‘wanted to read’. After a while Steve wanted to play a boardgame. At first you didn’t want to play, but Loki convinced you that it would be good to show the rest of the team you indeed got along. Thor and Clint joined you and you had to admit you had fun. Loki was friendly, relaxed and funny. You wondered why he wasn’t like that all the time or why you were the only person he didn’t treat like that. After dinner the whole team decided to watch a movie. You really wanted to go to bed, but would only do that once you were free.

You felt someone shaking your shoulder. You woke up and realized that you had fallen asleep during the movie. You blamed Loki for keeping you up all night. The most embarrassing thing is that you fell asleep on his shoulder. The rest of the team, except Tony, were already gone. Tony handed Loki the key and walked out of the living room. Loki grinned at you ‘Don’t for a second that when we’re not cuffed together that you’re free off me’. You sighed ‘Can’t we just leave these days for what they were?’ Loki seemed to ponder over the question, and while you were waiting for him to respond you realized, you didn’t know what response you wanted. You were holding your breath, waiting for him to answer you, which he took a long time doing. He uncuffed the two of you. You rubbed your wrist, it felt good to be free. Loki shot you a wicked grin ‘No, you are mine’

Your breath hitched and you got up, making your way back to your bedroom. To your surprise Loki wasn’t following you. You closed the door behind you, but knew he would be able to enter when he wanted to. You were startled when you heard a low voice right next to your ear ‘Going somewhere, kitten?’. You weren’t proud of it but shrieked a little. You were spun around and now facing Loki, who was towering over you with his dominant figure. ‘Or did you just forget what you agreed to yesterday?’ he purred. His eyes were sparkling full of mischief. ‘I- I said those things because you made me, I didn’t mean that’ you began to argue. ‘I think you did, you’re just too ashamed to admit it’ Loki said while smiling wickedly. You opened your mouth to tell him to get lost, but he grabbed you and slid his tongue inside of your mouth. You were getting lost in the kiss, the fight almost left you.

Then you realized you had your powers. You pushed him off you and immediately raised a shield around yourself. You thought Loki would be angry, but he seemed to be amused. A green fire bolt appeared in his hand and that’s when you realized, he also had his powers back. He shot the green bolt at you, making your shield crumble. ‘This isn’t fair’ you half yelled at him. He smile only widened, he knew it wasn’t. Your magical nature was healing, while his was that of a warrior. He was trained to fight, you were trained to help and aid. He grabbed you by your waist. You tried to form a magic bolt of your own, but when Loki bit down your neck, you lost your concentration and the bolt disappeared from your hands. He threw you down the bed. You tried to scramble away from him, but an invisible force tied your hands to the headboard. You were struggling against the invisible bonds, but they only tightened around you. ‘Stop struggling, kitten. You know you want this’ Loki sighed. ‘I don’t. Stop!’ you said to him. One of his eyebrows shot up ‘Really? You didn’t put up much of a fight’ he said. ‘I literally put a shield around me’ you argued. He just smirked at you ‘One of your weakest types of shields and you haven’t tried to paralyze me or anything. So, like I said you didn’t really fight me. We both know you want this’

With a wave of his hand Loki made all your regular clothes disappear, leaving you in nothing but your lingerie. Your red lingerie. You hadn’t seen anyone going from amused to furious so fast. The bonds on your hands tightened. Loki wasn’t saying anything to you, but his face made you absolutely terrified. You wanted to make him angry, but now that he was you felt like you made a dangerous mistake. In an instant Loki conjured up a knife and held it to your throat. ‘Looks like someone has been a very bad girl’ he growled in your ear. You started to panic, not daring to move an inch. ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry’ you whispered while fighting back tears. Loki was sliding the knife against the length of your throat. ‘If you’re so sorry, why do it in the first place?’ he asked you. You really wished Loki wasn’t the God of Lies right now. But since he was, you decided to just be honest. ‘I wanted to make you mad’ you said meekly. Loki laughed darkly ‘Well, you have succeeded’

‘I’m s- sorry’ you began to sob. ‘Since you’re new at this and you seem to understand the gravity of your mistake, I will let you off easy’ he purred. His hand grabbed your hair and he pulled hard, making you bare your throat to him. ‘But let me be clear, don’t let it happen again’ he said. ‘Yes’ you replied. He let go of your hair and you relaxed a bit. You felt the tip of the dagger against your throat, which made you tense up again. ‘Now, stay very still or this is going to be a very painful experience’ he commanded you. His blade travelled downwards over your chest, between your breasts. It slid effortlessly through your bra and your breast sprung free. You tried to keep your breathing even, but were startled at how sharp the knife actually was. Loki smirked when he saw your breasts and started to slide the knife around to play with them. Still extremely scared you couldn’t help that tears were running over your cheeks. When Loki looked up at you his expression changed, and you would almost say he was looking concerned.

With his other hand he strokes the tears from your face. ‘Sssh, there’s no need for that darling. You’re doing great so far. Just relax and trust me’ he told you with a soothing voice. Like it was the easiest thing to do right now. You did notice that the pressure of the knife slightly decreased. Loki was sliding the knife up and down your stomach, right above your panties. You took a deep breath and relaxed as much as you could. ‘That’s it, just submit to me’ he purred. Loki slowly cut through the sides of your panties. The sight was somehow quite erotic. The fabric fell from you and Loki withdrew the knife. ‘You did really well, kitten’ he praised you. Loki spread your legs further and placed himself in between them. The invisible bonds faltered, and you laid your hands on his chest. He gave you a smile, which you thought looked quite genuine.

He bent down to kiss you. It started out slow, but he got hungrier and started to kiss you faster. You enjoyed the way his lips felt on yours and how he tasted. You felt his hardened cock nudge at your entrance. You involuntarily bucked your hips, trying to get him inside of you. Loki chuckled darkly against your lips ‘I knew it’ he said in between his kisses. You felt him slowly pushing inside of you, making you moan very loud. Loki had left your mouth and was kissing you up and down your neck. You felt him smile against your skin when you moaned. He started to thrust in and out of you. He stopped kissing you and sat up straight. He was quick to put one of his legs over his shoulder, giving him a better angle. With every moan you made he thrusted faster inside of you. You heard him starting to mutter things under his breath, but you were too far gone to register what he was saying. His hand sought out your clit and you cried from pleasure when he started to stroke it lightly. ‘Please, Loki please make me cum’ you begged him. A little bit surprised that the words left your mouth before you could think about it. Loki seemed to be very pleased with your reaction and puts more pressure on your clit. He himself started to moan and you knew he was as close as you are. After a few more thrusts you walls clenched around his cock and you came hard. It triggered Loki’s own orgasm and you felt his seed spilled inside of you.

Loki pulled out of you and cleaned the both of you up with a hand gesture. That was an upside of Loki having his magic back you thought. He shimmered himself a pair of pyjama pants and laid down in your bed. You just stared at him ‘You’re staying?’ you asked him. He laid on his back, a hand behind his head, looking up at you. ‘Of course, I am’ he said, like you were stupid to even think otherwise. ‘I do suggest you wear something tonight, or you won’t be getting any sleep’ he purred. Not really sure how to get him out of your bed, you decided to let him sleep in your bed for this one time. You grabbed your own pyjama from underneath your pillow. It existed of a pair of black shorts and a red top. You were staring at the top and back at Loki. He was having an amused look on his face, wondering what you were going to do. After you put on the shorts you still were holding the red top. Loki cocked an eyebrow, giving you a ‘really?’-look. When you saw it you quickly threw the top on the ground and got under the blankets with him. He pulled you close so your head was on his chest. ‘Good girl’ he whispered. You snuggled closer to him when he said that, hearing him chuckle. He started to stroke your back and play with your hair, making you fall asleep fast.

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imkylotrash · 4 years ago

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What Goes Around

Pairing: Hardin Scott x reader

Request: Could I please request an imagine/fic with Hardin Scott x Reader and basically Hardin of course has his bad boy reputation but this intrigues the reader. She is his complete opposite and finds his rudeness quite funny. Hardin is a little too mean to her one time and makes her cry. It doesn’t occur to Hardin that she likes him and by that point he feels like he has lost his chance to get to know her because of his.. ‘wicked’ charm? You can choose the ending. Anonymous

Tagging: @bitchwhytho @music-of-melody

He’s watching you give your coffee order and it makes you smile. Everywhere you go, you seem to run into each other. At first, you’d just steal glances then go your separate ways but then it turned into “hello”. He made the first move and asked if you should have your coffee together one day. Ever since than you’d made polite conversation when you ran into each other and you had to admit that something intrigued you about the tattooed boy who refused to care about anyone other than himself. You couldn’t exactly relate to his perspective on life but you wanted to know more, to understand the boy who considered the world a cruel place rather than an opportunity to happy days.

“This seat taken?” you ask standing with a hot cup of coffee in one hand and a book in the other. The “Red Queen” series have become something of an obsession for you after finishing the first book. You never thought you’d stray from the classics but lately, YA books had been catching your eye.

“I see you’re still on the third book,” he smiles and in the same moment letting you know how he feels about YA books. You don’t take it too hard considering he’s not even willing to admit his love for books for anyone other than you.

“I’m taking my time and enjoying the words.” You have a tendency to get too invested and rush through a book to get to the ending meaning you miss a lot of the little Easter eggs along the way. You’re trying to change that.

“Hey, no judgement from me.” He’s lying but it’s a cute lie so you’ll allow it. Once you’ve finished your coffee, you stand up grabbing your things. You have exactly ten minutes before your class start but you like to get there early in case you need to do some last-minute preparations. Hardin remains seated and you remain neutral in regards to his lack of motivation when it comes to college.

I’ll be going classes now. Want to come?” Okay, maybe not that neutral. He shakes his head smiling and you know what that means. It takes three days before you run into him again. This time at the library where you reach for the same book which sounds completely absurd and something that would only happen in one of your books. It’s a cute moment though.

“I guess great minds think alike,” you say and he scoffs.

“Please. You wish you were as clever as me.” He offers you the book about to sit down when he spots some of his friends outside. You know he’s been a little vague about who you are considering just how different you are to them and frankly, you don’t mind. Hardin is an interesting character because there’s more to him than just the casual alcoholic teen while the people he surrounds himself with at those frat parties really don’t have much else going on for them. You went one time and you’d never been more bored in your life.

“I should go,” he says Within minutes he’s out the door walking in the direction away from his “friends”. After that you don’t spot him for a while or maybe he’s avoiding you to avoid the questions his friends will inevitable have. Either way, you find yourself missing his sarcastic comments. You hadn’t realised just how much of an impression he’d made on you until he wasn’t around. But he comes back to you eventually.

“Hey,” he says when he spots you at the coffee house.

“I thought you’d moved city,” you tease pushing out the chair across from you with your foot. He sits down sliding a book across the table.

“As an apology,” he grins. You turn the book over to see the cover and you can’t help but smile.

“You remembered.” One of the first conversations between you and Hardin had been about ecocriticism and a book called “The Road” that you’d borrowed from the library more times than you could count. You’d discussed the topic in class where your professor had recommended this book and now Hardin had gotten it for you.

“You wouldn’t shut up about the book for at least five hours. How could I not?” He shrugs it off like it’s no big deal but it still means a lot to you. Now you could read the book whenever you felt like it. And he’d gotten the original cover rather than the movie cover. It would’ve been the perfect gift if his friends hadn’t shown up and ruined everything. You see the change in him the second they enter the coffee house.

“Hardin, who’s this?” Jace asks with hungry eyes making you feel incredibly uncomfortable.

“Just a friend,” Hardin offers not wanting to give any information to these people.

“Sure, friend. Do you feel the same way, honey?” Jace asks making the rest of the guys snicker. Before you have a chance to answer, Hardin opens his mouth and ruins everything.

“Yes, friend. I mean look at her. Not exactly my type, is it? I mean, could it get anymore vanilla?” This earns him a high five from one of the guys but it cracks your heart. You’ve never thought much about your close or the way you looked because you thought the inside counted a hell of a lot more than the outside. But hearing that the idea of being with you seemed so ludicrous hurt more than you liked to admit.

“I should get going.” You don’t look at Hardin when you leave and you don’t bring the book with you. If this is how he thinks of you then you don’t want anything from him. And it’s not even the fact that he considers you a friend. If that’s all it was, you’d be fine. It’s how easy it was for him to degrade you that really hurt. You tell yourself you won’t cry but it’s a lost battle as you head home. Unfortunately, you don’t reach home before he catches up to you.

“Leave me alone, Hardin,” you say picking up the pace. You’re determined to reach your apartment without stopping but of course, you can’t help yourself when it’s Hardin.

“Are you mad at me?”

“Mad at you? Of course, I’m mad at you!” you yell not caring who hears you at this point.

“You of all people should realise what it’s like to be judged on the way you look. I like the way I look and I absolutely refuse to let you make me feel bad about it!” You don’t care if he said it because of his friends or not, it’s the fact that it came to him so easily. That means he’s thought it before regardless of the situation at the coffee house.

“It was a joke!” he yells back opting for defensive rather than just apologise. You’re not doing this. You turn around and this time he doesn’t follow you. It’s weeks before you dare return to the coffee house. You don’t want to meet him again. Instead you dive head first into the universe of Jane Austen thinking he could’ve been your Mr. Darcy with his sour attitude and soft spot for you but it didn’t turn out that way. But your need for good coffee eventually win over your fear of seeing him again. The plan is in, order, pay and leave. It’s just not that simple once you’re inside.

“You forgot this.” He places “The Road” in front of you as you’re waiting for your coffee. You can’t believe he’s held onto to it since that day. You figured he would’ve just chucked it in the bin.

“I’m really sorry for what I said. It was rude and thoughtless. You deserve better.” It’s a good apology but you can’t help but think what the insult will be the next time his friends catch you together.

“You’re right. I deserve better.” You get your coffee and head outside.

“Throw me a bone here. I said I was sorry.” Of course, Hardin follows you outside refusing to let this go.

“Hardin, you’re only sorry because I called you out on it. You don’t actually care that it hurt me.” He’s not the first guy who thought he could walk all over you and he won’t be the last but you refuse to accept that treatment. You deserve a lot better than that.

“I’m sorry because it hurt you. I didn’t think you’d read so much into it,” he defends himself making it clear to you that it’s a pointless discussion. He’s not going to understand why what he said was hurtful despite his own appearance and the comments he’s received.

“How could I not? I’m sitting there thinking we might have a shot and then you pull the rug out from under me. I’m not playing these games with you.”

“What?” You don’t bother repeating yourself instead using this moment of shock to hurry away. You manage to avoid him for another week before he corners you on campus.

“You can’t just throw something like that out in the world and then leave. It’s been going round and round in my head.” He has a hand on each side of you leaning against the wall. It’s effective for keeping you in place and distracting you from why you’re actually upset with him.

“I never thought you’d like me like that. Shit, I would’ve done things very differently if I ever thought I had a chance.” This time you’re the one in shock. You didn’t think he’d put so much thought into what you said last time.

“What would you have done differently?” Despite vowing to yourself that you’re done with Hardin, you find yourself curious once again. This bad boy persona with a loving man hidden inside seems like an impossible paradox.

“I would’ve kept you well clear of those idiots from the frat house. Bought you flowers maybe. Taken you to dinner. Bought you a hell of lot more books.” You don’t want to forgive him but it’s hard to think when he’s this close to you.

“I can start now if you’d like.” He places a hand on your cheek and his touch gives you chills. You inhale sharply telling yourself not to give into him but your body has already thrown in the white towel. He leans down stopping inches from your lips.

“I really am sorry. It won’t happen again.” Instead of answering, you lean up closing the gap between you. It’s the first kiss but definitely not the last.

#hardin scott x reader #hardin scott imagine #hardin scott blurb #hardin scott after #hardin scott gif #hardin scott #after gif #after imagine #after blurb #After movie #after we collided #after we collided blurb #after we collided imagine #awc imagine #awc gif #awc blurb #awc

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tsukikento · 3 years ago

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Empathetic Chapter 17

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Summary: After your mom, the number 1 hero in America, gets offered a teaching position at U.A., you two pack up your things and head to Musutafu, Japan to start a new life. Pressure for you in America was at an all-time high, and now you’re in Japan, where almost no one knows you, or your family’s past.

This tale starts on your first day of class where your new teacher decides the best way for you to fit in is to fight against the strongest person in your class: Bakugou Katsuki.

Warnings/Genre: This piece will feature some angst and reference to an abusive parent, if you are ever worried about other tw’s feel free to send me an ask and I will let you know. There will also be fluff, slight angst, pining, and slowburn.

A/N: Had to write this chapter three times because somehow everything kept getting deleted!! I’m sorry for my inconsistent posting. Please leave comments, reblog, or send me asks if you like! They always keep me motived :)

(masterlist)

When you came back out for dinner, Bakugou was already sitting at the head of the table, eating away, and chatting away with Kirishima and Sero. To his left was an empty seat, but a plate filled with food.

I wonder if Bakugou made that or if someone nicer prepared it, you wonder as you and Ashido made your way to the table. If Bakugou made it, then damn. However, you wouldn’t be surprised if Kirishima made it or Kaminari who was on dish cleaning duty and needed to put away the leftovers. Regardless of who did it, they still sat you down next to Bakugou in your usual seat.

Don’t read into that, you told yourself as your sat down at the table. Instead, you focused on the delicious food in front of you that you immediately began to chow down on. You found yourself, much like Bakugou, simply eating away while Ashido, Kirishima, and Sero kept the conversation going. Both of you were much too hungry to stop and add your own commentary to the conversation.

Bakugou finished before you and chugged down his water before taking both yours and his glass to the kitchen to fill them back up. Gratefully, you mumbled out a “Thank you” before you continued to eat. Play it cool, he’s just being polite, you told yourself and Ashido proceeded to elbow you and wink.

You rolled your eyes at the pink girl and focused back on what was left on your plate.

Conversation flowed easily until Bakugou came back. The blond placed the cups onto the table before holding up his arms and stretching in a way that clearly showed his stomach. At this point, each of you were still in casual athletic clothes and his simple t-shirt lifted just enough to show his stomach.

It was an action you should be used the at this point. The blond often stretched without a care or used his quirk in ways that ruined clothing. And yet, you still found your face heating up and your eyes glued to the sight.

When he finally sat back down, he leaned in close to you. “I’m ready to go whenever,” He explained before leaning back into his chair and sipping on his water.

“Go where?” Sero, who was to Bakugou’s immediate right, questioned.

You looked to Bakugou, expecting him to reply. Not only were you hesitant to explain the situation and possibly misunderstand what Bakugou was thinking, but the blond typically made habit of answering anyways.

“The gym for yoga and cardio,” Bakugou explained, just like you expected. Luckily, it wasn’t any different than what you thought.

“Really?” Kirishima questioned, his eyes lighting up. “That sounds so manly!” He turned to look at Ashido, “Do you want to go do yoga and cardio too?”

“Um,” Ashido immediately turned to you, concerned that she and Kirishima would be intervening on your alone time with Bakugou.

Part of you wanted to welcome the company, ultimately nervous about having to hold up a conversation when neither you nor Bakugou were all too talkative. However, you spent hours alone with Bakugou each week and it wasn’t awkward then so why would it be different?

Bakugou also hates how couple-y they are so he may be more inclined to talk to me and spend time with me if they are there doing PDA, you thought before subtly nodding to Ashido.

“I’d love to go if Bakugou and Y/L/N don’t mind,” Ashido finally spoke after a few moments.

“I don’t care,” Bakugou measly replied.

“What about you, Sero?” Kirishima questioned, “Do you want to go too?”

“No way,” The black-haired boy replied, leaning back in his chair. “I had interning today and had to chase a villain down seven blocks, ugh!”

“Weren’t you using your tape though?” Ashido shot back curiously.

“So? It still drains me and my poor arms. I could not do yoga like this.” Sero flailed his arms around before letting them fall to his sides, effectively showing how absolutely dead they were. “I’ll just stay here with Kaminari and make him watch the new season of Galactic Guard again or whatever.”

“Your loss,” Kirishima jokes before chuckling lightly. “I’m going to go get changed, be down soon.”

Ashido followed him with the same explanation.

Awkwardly, you looked at Sero, expecting him to say something. You and Bakugou were already changed and had your waters with you, there was no reason for you to go upstairs. Unfortunately, due to the silence and the awkward atmosphere of a nervous you and an ever-rigid Bakugou, the black-haired boy immediately slid out of his seat, claiming to need water. However, you watched as he dropped his empty glass on the counter and simply talked to Kaminari.

You rolled your eyes and took a sip of your water, wishing there was more to do. Thinking on your feet, you stood up abruptly. “I’ll clear the dishes,” You said before stacking the plates and silverware. “Do you want your water anymore?”

Bakugou shook his head so you proceeded to grab his water, place it into your cup, and make your way to the kitchen slowly.

Kaminari and Sero greeted you happily and Kaminari immediately took your dishes.

Their rather boring conversation did not leave room for you to interject, so you simply made your way back to the dining table. Sighing, you grabbed your half-full water and reached for Bakugou’s as well. The blond watched you wordlessly.

You wondered if his lack of comment was a bad thing or if it showed comfortability and a willingness to let you touch his belongings.

As you debated the notion, you silently, almost like you were on autopilot, filled up the waters, and went back to the table. With nothing left to do, you sat back down into your seat and awaited the arrival of Kirishima and Ashido

“Thank you,” Bakugou said as you sat down with the two glasses of water.

“No problem” You replied. Despite this comment being typical for literally anyone to say, it still felt nice for him to say thank you. Maybe it was because he rarely used his manners.

Bakugou grabbed his water from the table and put it back into his bag. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence as you waited for Ashido and Kirishima. The only noise was the people talking in the kitchen and the small group watching television in the living room.

A few minutes passed by before the couple finally emerged from the elevator and greeted you both with wide smiles. Kirishima had on black basketball shorts with a red stripe down the side as well as a red hoodie. Ashido adorned a matching two-piece set of leggings and a conservative sports bra that was cheetah print. She also had on a black zip-up jacket that was currently wrapped around her waist.

You and Bakugou quickly got up from your seats, grabbed your belongings, and slowly made your way to the door. Ashido was by your side while Kirishima ran the kitchen to fill up his and Ashido’s waters. The pink girl moved from being attached to Kirishima’s side and was now attached to yours.

Giggling, she whispered in your ear, “Yet another double date!”

Sheepishly you rolled your eyes and dismissed the thought. “Don’t count your chickens before they hatch.”

“What?” Ashido questioned, moving away from you to give you a confused look.

“What do you mean ‘what’?” You shot back.

“I mean,” She began, emphasizing her words, “What does that even mean?”

“What does what mean?” You replied, absolutely clueless to the confusion.

“She’s asking what ‘don’t count your chickens before they hatch’ means,” Bakugou butted in as he stood opposite you by the front door. “Personally, I think it’s rather obvious.”

“Oh, shut it, Bakugou!” Ashido exclaimed, giving the blond a dirty look.

Laughing, you explained, “It’s just an American saying.” You debated how exactly to explain it before once again continuing, “Just because you have, say, 10 chicken eggs, 2 could break before they hatch and 3 more could be simply eggs, no baby in them. So, they saying means that you shouldn’t expect something until it happens. You can’t expect to have 10 chickens just because you have 10 eggs.”

Ashido harrumphed, clearing having trouble understanding. “Sounds dumb.” Something you also expected her to say considering she was the one ‘counting her chickens before they hatched’.

You shrugged, “It’s hard to understand sayings from other countries if you didn’t grow up around them. I’m sure some common Japanese sayings don’t make sense to me.”

At this point, Kirishima joined back in and made quick work of putting on his tennis shoes.

“My mom used to always say ‘even monkeys fall out of trees’ when I made mistakes,” Ashido explained, testing you to see if you would understand a common Japanese phrase.

“Everyone makes mistakes,” You replied after a few seconds to think it over.

“Dang!” Ashido replied as the four of you made your way out of the dorm and to the gym.

“What about this one,” Bakugou interjected. “My dad would say this all the time, ‘the stake that sticks up gets hammered down.’”

Oh, this one is definitely more complicated.

You tried working through the saying out in your brain, sure it had someone to do with being seen in society. “Um,” You began, “The person who stands out will…” You paused, unsure how to finish. Sighing, you shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t know.”

“Ha Ha!” Ashido shouted in joy. “It means the person who stands out is often subject to criticism.”

You nodded your head in understanding as she explained.

“How were you so good at those?” Kirishima asked.

“Well, word association is taught in elementary schools,” You explained, reminiscing on the problems you solved in second grade. “For example, we would get something like “cow is to barn as man is to ‘blank’ and we would have to fill it in.”

Ashido and Kirishima proceeded to exclaim “house!” while Bakugou simply nodded, actions that represented each of them rather well.

“Nice!” You laughed, high-fiving the two who guessed.

You rounded the corner at this point, entering one of the school buildings with multiple classrooms. You followed the group as they made their way upstairs and weaved through hallways. Fairly naturally, the conversation died down as the couple of Ashido and Kirishima clung to each other and dawdled behind.

Aggravated, Bakugou led your group, clearly annoyed with how slow they were. Honestly, you were pretty sure Ashido planned this so you could have alone time with the blond.

Trying to utilize this opportunity, you kept stride with the blond. “Pretty annoying, huh?” You asked, gesturing to the couple and silently apologizing for throwing them under the bus and using them as a conversation starter.

“Aren’t they always?” Bakugou replied, looking to the couple before rolling his eyes and groaning.

“Sometimes they are cute,” You shrugged, flashing a smile to the blond. “At least they’re happy, you know?” You asked, attempting to reason with them.

Bakugou simply “tsked” in reply. “Doesn’t mean they aren’t making me nauseous.”

“Very true,” You responded, unable to stop yourself from chuckling loudly. “Especially when they talk in baby voices and make little smooching noises!” You altered your voice slightly to mimic Ashido’s baby voice that you hear her only use with Kirishima.

Bakugou cackled loudly at the comment, clearly amused by your impersonation. “Or when they go off to each lunch by themselves, cuddling under a tree, and then coming back like giddy teenagers,” He added.

“Oh, yeah!” You animatedly exclaimed, “How could I forget? Kirishima ends up staring out the window all of class!”

As your laughter died down, the two of you arrived at the double doors that led to the small gym. Luckily, no one else was inside due to how late it was. In fact, you four might be here past curfew. Despite this, you entered into the gym which had a few different weight machines and treadmills as well as a room to the left that was dim and specifically designed for yoga.

You knew this was the gym that Ashido frequently used late at night but weren’t familiar with the layout. Slowly, you put down your belongings, chugged down a few gulps of your water and made your way into the yoga room. The room had too large baskets on wheels that came up to about your waist. Inside, were blue and white yoga mats with the school’s logo on it. It was for student use and cleaned every week, a small perk for going to such a prestigious hero school. By the time you grabbed a mat, you heard the large metal and glass doors once again opening. Waiting for the couple, you rolled out your mat and brought your water to your side.

Although you did yoga frequently and could easily start your own routine, you figured the four of you would want to do a routine together. Once inside, Kirishima and Ashido quickly came into the yoga room and set up mats.

“I’ll hook up my phone to the projector so we can play a video,” Ashido explained as she plugged her phone into a wire that connected to the projector.

You watched the pink girl search up a yoga routine that was primarily focused on stretching the body pre-workout. The video was about half an hour-long, so you simply prepared yourself by sitting on your knees and waiting for the introduction to finish.

Yoga went by rather quickly, which each of you silently following the video. You were all in your own worlds, thinking about your own problems or simply letting your mind go black as you followed the routine. You could tell it was something your mind and body was craving after a long day of theorizing and sitting at the desk.

Once the routine finally ended, you let out a big breath and stretched your body one final time before grabbing your water bottle to drink from. “Ah, that was so good!” You sighed, completely satisfied.

Kirishima and Ashido hummed in agreement as they rolled up their mats.

“And now it’s time to put that stretching to good use,” Bakugou added, as he passed by you with his own rolled mat. He grabbed yours, which you just finished rolling, and went to put them away. Once done, he made his way back to you and held out his hand to help you up. “Shall we go run?” He asked while he effortlessly pulled you up.

“We shall,” You replied, a wide smile on your face.

Bakugou had never, not even when he was kicking your ass in training, helped your up or touched your hand. Immediately, you felt heat spreading up your face and your heart beating faster.

Ashido, who was putting her own yoga mat into her bag eyed you suspiciously. Subtly, you gave her a surprised look and shrugged your shoulders. Bakugou inevitably let go of your hand after you were standing up straight. He was surprisingly warm and you held quickly went cold without his touching.

In an attempt to play everything off cool, you simply followed behind him, grabbing your bag and moving to the treadmill next to his. You placed your belongings down, took one last gulp of water, and got onto your treadmill.

Bakugou, who had already started, was going at a slow pace and you decided to follow in line with him. The slow speed was an ideal way to warm up your body and prepare you for a faster pace.

You didn’t have to wait long, however, because Bakugou soon sped up his treadmill by two. He gave you’re a clear look and you didn’t even have to take out your earbuds to know he was subtly saying there is no way in hell you will run faster than me.

After a few more strides, you also increased your speed, clicking three times to be running one faster than him.

Almost immediately, Bakugou gave you another look and increased his speed. This game of tug-of-war continued for a few minutes, each of you slowly increasing your speed in order to one-up the other. It was fun when you started slow, and you even found yourself smiling when you were running at a speed just below a sprint. However, you were now sprinting at a breakneck pace and craving this game to stop.

You once again, and quite stubbornly, pressed the up arrow to increase your speed.

Bakugou attempted to groan under his breath, but he was going too fast to have control over his voice and you clearly heard the roan of indignation. The blond pressed his finger onto the up arrow and increased his speed just as he had done before. This time, however, he notably did not go past your speed.

The both of you were now running at the same speed, and although you were tempted to go up at least one more to irk Bakugou, you knew it was best not to. It was all down to endurance now.

You focused your attention on running, moving your arms to help your speed, and focusing on your breathing to make sure you were taking in big and consistent breaths.

“Woah, Bakugou and Y/N-chan!” Kirishima’s voice rang through your ears. Despite only being two treadmills over and a total of 12 feet, you could barely hear him. “So manly!” If you were looking at him, you would see him send a cheeky smile to Ashido before increasing his own speed.

However, you were all too involved in your own competition to worry about him.

You felt your legs burn and crave for a break. You felt so hot that you were sure you were steaming. In fact, you saw steam.

Steam? You looked to your left from where it was coming and saw steam emitting from Bakugou’s palms. You could have gasped in surprise if you weren’t so already short on breath. The next thing to smelled was an intense caramel. Or is it burning sugar? You questioned as you realized it was coming from the blond next to you.

It smells so sweet, you thought, clearly distracted. It made you think of caramel apples at amusement parks, chewing on the delectable treat as you walked around, surrounded by vibrant lights.

You inhaled deeply, trying to take it all in. Suddenly, you tripped. The floor fell out from under you, and you did not have enough speed or traction to keep up. Quickly, you clutched onto the railings and got back up to speed. The difficult action, which would surely leave bruises on your arms, lasted only a few seconds. Although Bakugou noticed, he didn’t say anything, so you simply kept up with running.

However, now your body ached even more. All you wanted to do was stop and you couldn’t drag your brain away from the idea. You felt your limbs begging to slow down and you could no longer deny the request. Reluctantly, you slowed down the treadmill with a sigh. Bakugou immediately noticed the action and shot his arms up with a small “woop!” in excitement.

At least seeing him so excited was worth it, you thought as you finally stopped the treadmill.

With exhaustion running through your veins, you got off the treadmill and made a beeline to your water. Your legs gave out and you sat against the wall, arching your back to give your lungs room. You chugged a few gulps of the cool beverage before you brought your hands above your head. It was the best way to get air into your lungs and control your breathing again.

Bakugou quickly joined you, copying your actions but while standing up.

“Good job, guys!” Ashido exclaimed, giving you both a thumbs up as she jogged at a much more reasonable pace.

You returned the gesture before grabbing your water again. Slumped up against the wall, you closed your eyes. Mentally, you made a note to not go out running tomorrow.

While you rested, you heard Ashido and Kirishima turn off their treadmills and join you against the wall. They chatted amongst themselves while Bakugou sat next to you.

Immediately, the caramel smell emitting off him wafted into your noise and filled your senses with euphoria and anxiety. He smelled so good, and yet you were certain he was much closer to you now. You could practically feel his body heat against your left arm.

The chatter from Ashido and Kirishima provided white noise, while Bakugou’s sweet aroma and warm body provided the ultimate guide to sleep. Your tired body craved it and you slowly felt yourself falling deeper and deeper.

Too tired to notice, you slowly leaned to the left, your shoulder eventually touching Bakugou’s. It was slight, a small brush of skin, but the blond immediately noticed the action, who stared at your sleeping body which found comfort in the purchase of his body.

You weren’t sure how much time passed when you were woken back up. In fact, you didn’t realize you fell asleep until you were waking up and opening your eyes to the sight of Bakugou’s own crimson orbs.

Quickly, you noticed the feeling of a warm arm against yours and moved abruptly away.

You could feel the heat spread from your neck to your cheeks and ears. If you weren’t in such shock, you would have also been certain that Bakugou’s own cheeks blushed pink. You shook your head in confusion, pushing away the ridiculous thoughts that came to mind.

“S-sorry!” You stuttered out, your voice barely emitting a sound.

“It’s fine,” Bakugou confidently laughed, brushing off the topic. “I just thought you would want to head back soon since you are falling asleep.”

“Uh, yeah,” You mumbled, “Thanks.” Looking away, you set your eyes on all your belongings and began picking them up. Sometimes it was difficult to look him in the eyes. Despite how warm and entrancing they were, they made you feel hot all over and spread nerves all throughout your body. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you stood all the way up and awaited Bakugou.

It only took a moment for the blond to stand upright after you. Gingerly smiling, you turned and made your way to the door.

“You guys coming?” Bakugou asked, walking backward so he could face the couple.

“Later,” Ashido mumbled, waving him away as she continued to smile at her boyfriend.

Bakugou hummed in acknowledgment and turned to you, a signal to open the door into the empty hallway.

“Today was fun,” You remarked, sparing a glance at the blond as the metal door eased closed. “Although I am sure tomorrow will be tough.” You paused, thinking over your schedule, “At least I only have class tomorrow.”

Although you were too nervous to look long, you saw the blond smile shyly and nod his head. “Yeah, I’m just glad I am done with the assignment due in English tomorrow.”

“Ah,” You replied, “How I wish I only had English assignments instead of extra Japanese assignments.”

“You’ll need to learn if you plan to stay here,” Bakugou remarked.

You scoffed, “I would argue that my Japanese was quite good already.” Rolling your eyes, you spared a teasing smile to him.

“What about when you are given a paper report and expected to read it all in minutes? Or when you have to write a report after a mission?” Bakugou shot back.

You groaned loudly, simply imagining how torturous a kanji-filled report that you would need to run through quickly. “Maybe you’ll be nice enough to write my reports for me?” You joked, opening your eyes and pouting in an attempt to look cute.

Bakugou blew air out his nose in a short laugh. “Bold of you to assume that I would even hire you to work at my agency.”

“Rude,” You replied, knowing full well that this was all a joke. “I think I would be a good hire, I could keep you calm during idiotic interviews or meetings too.” You looked into his eyes, “So, you want to start your own agency?”

“Need to if I’m going to be number one,” Bakugou curtly answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Well,” You began, “If I’m still in the area, and you are in desperate need of a hire, I would be happy to help.”

“Thanks.”

A small laugh and a brief look had your insides twisting. You once again felt hot. However, you were now, luckily, in the cool air of the night. You calmed yourself as the two of you approached the dorms.

Bakugou took a few quick steps to get ahead of you to reach the door. He moved to the side so you could enter in first and you smiled and nodded politely.

However, when you entered the dorm, your mood quickly changed. Practically every student was in the living room, some standing, some sitting. Most notably, Aizawa-sensei stood in the dining room, leaned up against the large wooden table, and clearly lost in his thoughts. Multiple sets of eyes turned to look at you. Your anxieties pooled in your stomach as you looked at your teacher.

Is it that bad that we are past curfew?

You felt Bakugou’s body pressed close up against yours. You were too scared to move, so the blond had to squeeze in. He was about to jokingly push you out of the way until he noticed the concerning scene in front of him.

You had no time to think about how comforting the action was, especially as he placed your hands onto your shoulders. He squeezed the slightly, but you were unsure if it was an action that was supposed to make you feel better or to make your move. You stumbled forward, but the blond hardly moved.

Aizawa cleared his throat and moved from his perch at the table. Silently, he approached you. “Let’s talk outside,” He whispered so only Bakugou, and you could hear. “Just you,” He elaborated, looking into your eyes.

You gulped and let Bakugou push you away so Aizawa could reach the door and lead the way out. You only snapped back to reality when your shoulders were suddenly cold at the lost touch.

“Okay,” You mumbled, stumbling to follow after your teacher. Maybe he was going to lecture us separately? You wondered, clinging to the hope that this was a simple scolding and not a disastrous event.

It must be my mom, what else would it be?

“Is my mom okay?” You immediately questioned when the door Bakugou closed was finally shut.

“Yes,” He abruptly replied, “Let’s talk this way.” He led you around the building to where there were multiple benches.

“My siblings?”

“Sit,” He spoke and motioned at a long bench.

You sat quickly, hoping it would make the news come quicker as well.

“There is no easy way to say this,” He began, “Please just listen.” Aizawa rubbed his eyes, clearly drained. “There was a prison escape at the North-Western prison. A total of 117 inmates escaped and are being rounded up. Your father is one of them.”

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #boku no hero headcanons #bakugo #bakugou #bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #katsuki #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki imagine #bakugou katsuki imagine #bakugo katsuki fanfiction #bakugou katsuki fanfiction

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bobohu4eva · 3 years ago

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Sweet Tooth (Part 2)

Characters: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: Royalty AU, fluff, angst, eventual smut, mutual pining

Summary: Life as the palace baker got a lot more interesting after catching the devastatingly cute prince sneaking around your kitchen.

WC: 4.3k

Tag List: @wooya1224 @dixnysustae @bbhile @geniusloey @blahblahblah-boo @leave-me-in-the-summertime

Masterlist

“Good morning!”

The egg hit the counter with more force than intended, enough to be smashed completely and leave your hand a sticky mess.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” You heard from behind you accompanied by a giggle.

You turned around, smiling and trying your best to play it cool. The devastatingly cute prince had not just seen you smash an egg on the counter. And he definitely didn't notice how you were hiding your egg covered hand behind your back. Hopefully. At least that’s what you told yourself for the sake of your sanity.

You’d been jumpy for a reason. You knew he would be there again today, and you still didn’t quite know what to do about it or how to act around the guy. Sure he was funny and cute and honestly quite pleasant to be around but he was still very much the prince.

“I’m okay! Good morning to you as well.” You bowed to him before quickly finding something to clean the raw egg off your hand and work table.

Luckily he didn’t comment on your little egg mishap any further. Instead he rounded the table until he was standing on the other side of it and he pulled up a stool and sat down the same way he had the day before, elbow on the table, with his chin resting on his hands looking at you expectantly.

“So? Fruit tart?”

“Yes, fruit tart. Shall we get started?” He quickly nodded. “Would you like me to only show you how I make it or do you want to do some of it too?”

“Oh, uh, I hadn’t really thought about that… Can I just jump in if there's something that looks easy?”

A smile spread across your lips. You’d almost forgotten in the short 24 hours you hadn’t seen him just how non-aristocratic the man acted, but what a relief it was.

“Yes, if that’s what you’d like. Let’s get started? The first thing we need to make is the tart dough.”

As you started to gather your ingredients you found it more and more difficult to focus. He wasn’t wearing pajamas anymore, he was wearing what the princes usually wear. It was very attractive. He looked, well, like a damn prince. And you were expected to just act normal? When he strolled into your bakery looking that good?? It felt very unfair. He was just wearing a thin white cotton shirt and black pants but you couldn’t help but ogle him when he wasn’t looking. His broad back, the swell of his chest, it was too much to handle. Combined with the messy head of hair and lazy smile, it had you weak in the knees.

You combined your flour, sugar, and butter and started to add your water with shaky hands, before beginning to knead it.

“Can I do that?” He asked as he got up and walked over to your side of the table.

You nodded and handed him the dough and watched as he started to clumsily smack it against the table. That was when you noticed his hands, and how pretty they were. They were slender but not bony, and you found your mind wandering off, wondering how they would feel holding yours. They were probably so soft. The mole on his thumb was so cute.

“Don’t do too much, or else the dough will get tough.” You said quickly as you snapped back to reality, reaching for the dough and he let go of it. You internally cursed yourself for getting carried away daydreaming about the man’s hands of all things.

He stayed standing next to you, watching you, as you started to roll the ball of dough out into a big enough circle to fill your tart pan. You picked it up and started to press it into the edges and the whole time you were incredibly aware of his eyes on you. You almost wished he would do something embarrassing again so you could stop being so nervous.

“You’re so quiet today.”

“People tend to like me better when I talk less.”

You frowned. “I liked talking with you yesterday.”

You could’ve sworn you saw the man blush, but you pushed the thought aside, not wanting to think about that while you had a task to complete. It would be all too embarrassing if you messed up a mere fruit tart just because there was a pretty boy distracting you.

And he couldn’t actually be blushing at that. Right?

“I expected you to be stuck up, but you aren’t at all. That was a big relief. And I think you’re kind of funny. And like I said yesterday, it can get lonely here so I’m happy to have some company.”

“You can still ask me to leave any time if I’m getting bothersome, I’ll understand.”

You looked up to meet eyes with him and gave him a small smile. You didn’t quite understand why he said such things but you very much felt the need to comfort the guy anyway.

“You aren’t bothersome. It’s nice to have someone to talk to here.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that a lot.”

He was looking down at the table now, and this time you knew he was blushing. His pink cheeks had pulled up into a small smile. Cute.

“Is that ready to bake?” He asked when he saw that you were done touching the dough.

You nodded, and before you could react he picked up the pan and walked it over to the oven before putting it inside and closing the door.

It wasn’t on purpose that you were being so quiet now. You were getting quite flustered and didn’t want to say anything embarrassing. He was the prince, you couldn’t exactly explain to him that you were having trouble focusing because of how attractive he was.

“So? What now?”

You were quickly brought back to reality by his words and realized you’d been staring at him the whole time. Like a weirdo. You could only pray that he wasn’t catching on to your odd behavior.

“The filling!” You said, a bit too loudly, as you shook yourself out of your thoughts.

You started grabbing ingredients again, keeping your eyes anywhere but on him. Once you had everything gathered, you combined the egg, sugar, and starch and handed the bowl to him.

“Do you want to mix it?”

He nodded with an adorably excited look on his face as he took the bowl from you and started to whisk the mixture together. In the meantime you began to heat up your fruit puree, and by the time it was warm enough you took the bowl from him and started to temper the egg mixture into the hot fruit. You put it back on the heat for a little while longer to make sure it got thick enough and by the time it was done it was time to take the crust out of the oven as well.

The whole time you carefully poured the filling into the crust you knew his eyes were on you but you couldn’t bring yourself to acknowledge him, out of fear of what you might do to embarrass yourself if you did. It was too quiet for too long. You still hadn’t spoken when you started to gather various fruits to start chopping up to put on top of the tart.

“I can leave if you really don’t want me here, you don’t have to lie and tell me it’s okay just because I’m the prince, I can tell I’m bothering you.” He mumbled and you finally brought yourself to look him in the eyes.

He looked upset. Your heart ached. You realized just how cold your actions must’ve come across to him, even though you hadn’t meant it that way at all.

“No! I promise you aren’t bothering me, really, I just… I’m not used to having someone back here with me watching me, especially someone like you.”

Much to your disappointment this didn’t seem to cheer him up, his face remained just as sad as it had looked a second ago.

“Someone like me?”

“You know, royalty. I work for your family after all, so it’s a bit nerve wracking for you to watch everything I do.”

“Oh…” His face softened a bit, and it seemed to you that he genuinely hadn’t considered that yet. “I’m sorry, but you really don’t have to be nervous, I won’t mind even if you mess something up. I promise I’m nice.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his words. He was a nice person, you knew that much already, if anything he could stand to be a bit more sure of himself. You felt bad that you’d hurt his feelings so easily by making him think he was being a nuisance.

“You are really nice, I can tell that much, I guess I just don’t really know you yet.”

“Well then what would you like to know about me? Ask away, I’m an open book.”

You looked at him with one eyebrow raised, wondering what you could even ask someone like him.

“Well, what’s it like being the prince?”

He frowned, obviously disappointed with your question. “Not great. Next question.”

Not great?

“Well what’s something you do like about it?”

He tilted his head to the side and pushed out his bottom lip a bit as he thought of an answer. You wondered if he did this on purpose, if he knew how adorable he was and liked to see you get all riled up because of him, but he seemed too oblivious for that to be the case.

After a few seconds his lips formed a wide grin and his eyes met yours. “The food.” He said.

That time you knew he saw you blush, and you even had to cover your mouth as a surprised laugh rolled off your lips.

“I’m just being honest, I don’t care about power and titles and all that, and I don’t need to live in a castle to be happy. I’m a simple man. But the food is a really nice bonus.”

“The cooks are really talented, I can see why you like that so much.” You said, now focusing back on the fruit you were chopping up.

“You too though, and sweets are my favorite.” He said, picking up a piece of strawberry you had just chopped to put on the tart and popping it into his mouth instead.

Your eyes traveled from his hand, as it grabbed the piece of fruit, to his face as he brought it to his perfectly smooth, pink, lips. You watched his face as he ate the strawberry, not realizing that you were once again staring.

“Is there something on my face?” He asked, with the cutest look of confusion on his face.

Somehow, you felt yourself blush even harder at that. “No, sorry, I just spaced out for a second.” You lied.

“Why is your face so red?”

“Is it?” You tried your best to act casual, quickly changing the subject. “So what do princes do in their free time?”

He made that same face again, the little pout that showed you he was thinking of an answer.

“Well, I like to get out of the palace. Take my horse out into the woods or through town, anything to get out and feel some fresh air and not be bothered. Or go on a walk through the gardens. I’ve seen you there a few times, by the way, reading.”

“Oh…” You didn’t quite know how to respond. You must’ve been so caught up in your books that you’d never noticed when he was there.

“I sometimes wondered who you were, but I didn’t want to bother you since you always seemed so invested in what you were doing.”

You felt another twinge of embarrassment, thinking about the romance novels you would sometimes spend hours totally consumed in.

“Well, next time you should come say hello if you see me.”

His cheeks and ears started to look like they were turning pink again, although you couldn’t understand why. He had looked down at the table, and one hand was scratching the back of his neck. He had paused. He almost looked a bit nervous.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we be friends?”

His eyes finally looked up to meet yours and the pout on his face as he nervously waited for your response made you feel crazy. There was no way in hell you could look back at him when he looked like that and say no.

You put a small smile to your lips and nodded, and to your relief his face immediately lit up into a wide smile.

“Thank you, Creampuff.”

You rolled your eyes at the nickname.

“I have to come up with a stupid name for you too now that we’re friends you know.”

“Well, then I am greatly looking forward to what you can come up with.“ He said grinning, and taking another piece of fruit you’d just carefully sliced.

“If you eat all my fruit before it can go on top it’s not going to be much of a fruit tart!”

He was giggling hysterically now, making a show of it, grabbing several more pieces of fruit and holding them up in the air, out of your reach..

“That’s okay, the topping is the best part anyway.” He snickered as he brought another piece of your oh so painstakingly chopped fruit to his lips.

Was it a good idea to befriend the prince? Probably not, however you didn’t want to think too hard about that since it was too late now anyway.

You had a fruit tart to finish, so you dragged your mind back to the task at hand.

“Baekhyun, do you want to put the fruit on top? Or are you just going to eat all of it as is?” You teased, gesturing towards your still naked tart with the pile of chopped fruit next to it.

“Okay okay I guess I can put some on top too.”

You watched as he started arranging the variously shaped fruit pieces atop the tart, and you once again marveled at his hands.

“So do I get help, or do I have to figure this part out myself? You always make them look so pretty, I don’t think I have the same artistic touch you do.”

You smiled at the compliment, more than you probably should have. Something about this guy enjoying your work so much was just too good to be true.

You felt silly. So silly. Has it really been so long since you’d had an interaction with a cute boy that you simply couldn’t handle yourself? He had to notice by now. It had to be painfully obvious why you were so flustered, right?

At that point you were openly staring. Luckily for you, he was actually pretty focused on making the tart look nice, so he didn’t seem to notice your eyes on him. His fingers had a slight sheen to them from the juices from the fruit and it took everything in you to not grab his pretty hands and lick them clean yourself.

“So? Y/n?”

You hadn’t even answered his question yet and you were already off in a little daydream about him.

You were crazy. You took a deep breath, recomposing yourself for the nth time.

“I’d like to see what you come up with.” You said, trying to sound as playful as you possible with how hard your heart was beating.

He gave you a smirk that told you he had accepted your challenge. His focus went back to the table and he started carefully arranging and rearranging his work.

Then, he was finished. The last of the fruit had been placed atop the cream filled crust. It actually looked okay, you were even slightly impressed with his artistic vision.

“How did I do?” You heard his ask as he set down his finished creation and looked at you with a pleased grin. He took his bottom lip between his perfect teeth, looking at you with those familiar puppy eyes and you wanted to scream at how cute he looked right then.

“It looks really nice. Not how I would’ve done it, but pretty.”

“Well if I did it exactly how you do it I would just be copying you and you wanted to see what I could do so how could I possibly even think to do something so unoriginal?” He looked very pleased with your response.

“You wouldn’t be able to make it look like mine even if you did try to. You just don’t have that special touch.” You responded, surprising yourself with your teasing tone.

Baekhyun perked up at your words, raising an eyebrow at you.

“What? You said it yourself earlier.” He really had. But you knew he was ready to fight you about it now anyway.

“I just need more chances to prove myself, but I think I did pretty damn good just now for someone who hasn’t prepared his own food in his life ever.”

“You’re so spoiled.” You giggled, plucking a piece of fruit off the tart and placing it between your lips, keeping your eyes locked with his. You weren’t sure where this new surge of confidence was coming from, but you decided to just go with it.

“Hey! I can’t help who I was born as!”

“That doesn’t mean you aren’t still spoiled.”

“You’re so mean to me.” He whined, obviously just trying to get a rise out of you. Unfortunately it worked very well for him. His little pout when he pushed out his bottom lip and furrowed his brows ever so slightly, was almost too cute to handle.

“Yeah, but you’re still here with me for some reason. Now are you finally going to eat your tart?”

He’d once again gone all bashful on you, acting like you were somehow the one in charge here when his family basically owned you.

“Can you cut it?” The words rolled off his lips softly.

You nodded, grabbing the sharpest knife you had, and started cutting the tart into slices.

It immediately felt wrong. You realized you’d fucked up.

The filling was still too warm to cut. It wasn’t fully set. It would start oozing into a big puddle of fruit goo as soon as you’d touch it.

It was so obvious. Of course you shouldn’t have cut into it already. Of course it wasn’t ready yet. You knew that, but your mind had been elsewhere. It was a dumb, dumb mistake and you felt it start to chip away at the last bit of sanity you had left.

You closed your eyes, clenching your jaw as you made a second cut, but you knew you were only making matters worse. It was already ruined. You put your knife down and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to fight the tightness in your chest and the tears that were building in your eyes.

“Creampuff?”

The nickname just made it hurt more. The way he said it so softly was too cruel. You failed to suppress the sob that wracked through you and the tears flowed freely down your cheeks, which were now deeply tinted with your embarrassment.

“I’m sorry.” You choked out. “I messed it up. It’s ruined.”

“Huh?” The look on his face as he watched you cry could only be described as a combination of worry and panic.

He didn’t get it. It still looked fine. Before you could stop him he picked up a piece and you watched as the beautiful and delicious little project you’d spent all morning working on with him fell apart. His carefully arranged fruit topping was destroyed as the filing slowly sagged into the missing gap and his slice turned into a messy glob.

“Where are the spoons?”

You looked at him like he was crazy.

You watched as he picked up the two forks on the table. “I don’t think a fork is going to work for this, can you give me a spoon please?”

You were a wreck. You were crying, sobbing even, and here he was asking you for a spoon so he could try at least one pathetic bite of your fruit tart turned pudding mess.

“Y/n?” It was barely a whisper this time. “Why are you crying? I said it’s okay even if you mess up. I’m not mad at you.”

Swallowing your tears, you reached into a nearby drawer, grabbed hastily at its contents, and shoved a spoon into his hand.

It was huge. The kind of spoon that was usually used for mixing large salads. You didn’t even understand why you had such a monstrosity in your little bakery.

Baekhyun stared at the ridiculous instrument you had just thrust into his unsuspecting palm as you let out a few more sniffles.

Then he let out a loud laugh. “This thing?!” He thought it was hilarious. “Are you trying to fatten me up? You know my mom always told me that my good looks were the only good thing I have going for me, don’t go ruining that now. I can’t afford to get chubby.”

You let out a whine and opened the drawer again, this time paying better attention to what you were grabbing. You pulled out two normal sized spoons.

He watched as you set them down on the table and frowned when he saw how upset you still looked, despite his joking around. You didn’t touch your spoon, still too upset to want to try a bite of your mistake. He didn’t seem to care though, immediately scooping up a spoonful and taking a large bite.

He let out a pleased hum as he finished his bite. “I don’t understand why you’re so upset, this is still pretty amazing if you ask me, thank you so much for letting me make it with you.”

He genuinely seemed to not mind. He kept happily eating it. But you didn’t feel any better. This was your job, your thing, and he’d seen you make such a stupid mistake, and on just the second day he’d met you. It was embarrassing more than anything else. What if he thinks you’re bad at your job?

“I’m sorry.” You let out again quietly and this time he didn’t tease you or make a dumb joke. He looked concerned. When you felt a tear roll down your cheek, he looked scared.

“Why are you still crying?” He put his spoon down. He was rounding the table to walk to the other side, to where you were standing. Once he was standing directly in front of you he froze. He’d lifted one arm slightly, as if he was reaching out for you, but it quickly dropped to his side again. You took a shaky step back but he moved with you.

“I promise I’m not here to judge you, I just wanted some time with someone who’s nice to me for once. And the tart is still amazing. And I know everything else you make is amazing too, because I’ve been eating it for years.”

You made the mistake of looking up into his big brown eyes. His cute slightly droopy looking eyes that sat perfectly atop his smooth, round cheeks. The look he gave you was too sweet to bear. You let out another sob.

He turned towards the table. He grabbed your spoon, hastily taking a scoop and shoving it into your mouth before you even had time to react.

“See? It’s good. Really good. Who cares if it melted or whatever. That’s like, the least important part. It’s food. It’s supposed to taste good. And it tastes super fucking good.”

You chewed slowly as he spoke, still standing far too close for comfort. He watched as you ate with tear stained cheeks. When you swallowed his hand moved. He was reaching for your face. You felt his thumb lightly brush the corner of your mouth, removing the small drop of cream that had ended up there. He brought his finger back up to his lips and he licked off the bit of cream, eyes never leaving yours.

“Delicious.” He whispered.

Panic was setting in now. You couldn’t find it in yourself to cry anymore. You felt like you needed to escape. You couldn’t trust yourself to not make a fool of yourself right now, even more than you already had. The poor guy would probably never wanna come bake with you again. The thought of not spending time with him again like this hurt more than you expected it to.

You stared again, too taken aback by his actions to get any words out. He was closer now. You weren’t quite sure when he’d gotten so close, close enough that you could smell the lingering scent of sweet fruit on his breath.

He was right there, and he was staring right back at you, close enough to touch. Your mind was slowing down and you swore you saw his eyes flicker down to your lips, before he cleared his throat and took a step back.

“I’m sorry, I think I should go. The tart is amazing, really. Thank you again.”

He turned to leave, and the words left you before you had time to think about it. “Are you still going to come back?”

He turned back to look at you, a reassuring smile on his pretty face. “Of course, Creampuff.”

Next Chapter

#exo #baekhyun #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun fic #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun smut #exo fic #exo fluff #exo smut

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jinsai-ish · 3 years ago

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Hetalia Head canon - Spirit Animals

I did a lot of research into this matter for one of my fics featuring Canada and America. It has been my long-standing belief that their indigenous people are part of them as much as any immigrant nation. As such, a spirit animal is part of their heritage.

Kumajirou, Canada's bear, is NOT his spirit animal in my opinion. Kumajirou is to me, a Kermode or spirit bear. They are a subspecies of black bear that commonly have white fur with a yellowish tinge - in fact, pretty much the exact color Kumajirou is depicted with. Spirit bears play a large role indigenous Canada as well. Hence Kumajirou = Kermode = not Canada's spirit animal.

So, as I'm sure was predicted, is that Canada's spirit animal I would have be Polar bear. Quiet, calm Canada, who can fade into the background like a polar bear into snow, shock trooper of the British Empire.

"(From Inuvialuit and Nanuq: A Polar Bear Traditional Knowledge Study, 2015). "Polar bears are greatly respected by Inuit hunters as the most intelligent animal in the Arctic, and as a symbol of the resilience, patience, and determination that is needed to survive in the harsh climate."

Patient, resilient, fierce when enraged, hey, look! It's Canada!

So. America. Rabbit.

America as a child is often portrayed with a rabbit. This is because in Japanese, rabbit is USAgi - get it? (Japan loves puns.)

But rabbit makes sense.

To address the obvious negative side first: rabbits are seen as timid and fearful. How does that fit with boisterous, hero America?

Very well actually. America often overreacts due to fear. He can't show that he's afraid though, so he has to go above and beyond, not only to 'defeat' what caused the threat but to convince others he had never been frightened at all.

Now. What else about rabbits? Fertile! America is fertile as hell! Whether or not you go for the 50 states = kids or not, America is fertile as hell. Fertility, abundance, prosperity - all are associated with Rabbit and with America.

Also, unpredictable, spontaneous, fast, and clever! America, who can't stop talking and is brimming with ideas. It's also my head canon that America is a complete nerd, what with all the inventing. And flying. And SPACE.

Canada I think can be uncomfortable with Polar bear and his own ferocity, and America with Rabbit and his own anxiety. Each of them wishes to be a bit more like their twin. But each also personifies the strength of their spirit animals with the best of their nation and peoples.

But anyways, that's just a head canon. ❤️

Sidenote on twins: America and Canada call each other 'kyoudai' in the original Japanese manga. This is Highly Unusual as older siblings are referred to as 'big brother' or 'big sister' pretty much always. 'Kyoudai' basically just means sibling, with no older or younger connotation. The only real thing to take from this is that they are the same age. Add that to the 'same face' comments and land mass/pre-Colonial history, I'm going with identical twins.... With my personal preference with Canada as firstborn due to history as per previous post. 🍁

...and identical twins can actually have physical differences in looks (like slightly different eye/hair?). Same egg, split. Same land mass, split. Also, female America has hair very similar to Mr Canada's, which supports my theory that if Alfred grew his out, it would do the same.

#hws america #hws canada #hetalia world series #aph america #aph canada #aph hetalia #hetalia #head cannon #spirit animal #na bros #na brothers

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yoimix · 4 years ago

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haikyuu!! as types of best friends.

➼ ft. hinata, sugawara, bokuto, osamu+atsumu.

➼ playlist. talk too much - coin, higher - banks, romanticism - mrs green apple, me and my friends - james vincent mcmorrow

➼ a/n. these have light bff2l undertones hhn i love that trope, pls forgive me. </3 + there’s some timeskip spoilers for atsumu & osamu’s part.

❀ hinata :-

i wish the childhood best friends trope a very good evening.

no one’s better than hinata at making friends, even if you met after he spiked a ball into your face. you’re childhood best friends too !! so imagine being a child and having to pick up this goofball by the scruff, who has the audacity to ask you to play with him after giving you a scratched up forehead and teary eyes from a ball to the face. but, like, you were the one who said yes so it’s on you :-)

sometimes you bicker but it’s ok bc he would literally go to the ends of the earth for you if you asked. no kidding. he hates sitting still anyway so he’ll just gravitate towards where you are like you’re the sun. also gets you taiyaki in the evenings but climbs in through your window instead of using the front door like a normal person. (he has too much energy </3) if you hear someone yelling your name outside your window and ranting about volleyball games, you know who it is.

ok when he makes you mad with his bullheadedness, you'll be complaining with kageyama (who agrees vehemently) and hinata gets pissy bc you get along a little too well when you're throwing insults about him. (he's not jealous, no, of course not.) but.. how long can you stay mad at this sunshine child anyway?? you'll be pretending you never got mad at all within a few hours and go back to joking around.

he gets distracted if you're watching a match sometimes (bokuto somehow got it into his head that he needs to show off in front of you) so you got banned from watching. he overcomes it later on so you can cheer him on in his jersey too <3

gives you ALL his attention when you talk or even complain about your life. he reacts a lot to whatever you have to say so you have to pretend there aren’t people behind you glaring at hinata for having the same decibel sound level as a jet engine.

you have matching keychains you bought at a local fair !!! (you got a pochacco one for hinata but it’s super worn out by now so he keeps it in his wallet instead.)

he has not won a single multiplayer video game against you (*cough cough* mario kart *cough*) and you don’t even have to be good at it. if you call him a loser, he’ll lose even harder. gets unnecessarily mad at just dance and you have to calm him down.

... you’ve probably kissed bc the two of you (mostly him) were too eager for a first kiss and you got fed up with his pubescent ramblings and ended up kissing him. and then had an early mid-life crisis bc you guys are definitely just friends. (unless.. unless he doesn’t think that way.. surprise surprise 😳) also he's.. kind of bad for make out practice... it’s like kissing a month old puppy.. sorry :/. if you happen to make a lot of offhand comments and tease him about his kissing skills, he WILL turn tomato red and argue in gibberish. only do that in private bc the rest of the world thinks you’re sickeningly cute together >:(

overall, your best friend is a ball of sunshine (who occasionally pisses you off) and your #1 motivation to get out of bed. it's mostly bc he's somehow there to get you out of bed though you've repeatedly told him to not climb in through your window. at least the sun is smiling upon you every day <3

❀ sugawara :-

being best friends with him is such a secure relation !!

he’s your soft place to fall but also would provide gentle (not so gentle) reminders for your wellbeing (STUDY!!! WATER!!!! BREAKFAST!!). doesn’t get mad when you say you skipped breakfast but gives you this look of disappointment which is 100x more effective. still gets a granola bar for you though. also he literally carries bandaids for u and he’s been doing that since second grade bc you fell off the swing ONCE. you know, just in case. if you’re an accident-prone hazard to society, you’re in luck.

BEST HUGS especially if you had a rough day and want to sob into his shoulder. if u damage his $85 hoodie tho, he will make u do his laundry and also buy snacks for him. but like he is so soft (his skin is SUPER soft bc he actually follows a skincare routine now) and cuddly like a teddy bear, it's a small price to pay for salvation.

he will hype you up for anything you do !!!! new outfit? offers to be your personal photographer. scored an A+? will treat u to your fav ice-cream. new job? will tell everyone just how proud he is.

ALWAYS shares the last bite with you and smiles to himself when you eat it so contented. also!!! hanging out at cafes and taking cute pictures is a must <3 even though you’re not dating, you’ll have photos together that make you look a real couple which ensue teasing from daichi and asahi and admiration/jealousy from noya and tanaka. also he gets weirdly protective of you around the team (i’m looking at the moron quartet) and you have to pull the “koushi you’re not my mom” card. it really strikes a chord with him when you say that out loud.

will egg your ex's house with you if you say the word. somehow gets more pissed than you at your ex (if they're a shitty one). it's kind of scary when he's mad too so.... good luck calming him down. he's also really good at sarcastic trash talk so if you happen to meet your ex on the street... send prayers for their self-esteem.

you don't really fight often but if you happen to disagree, he'll go about it in a pretty mature way and talk it out. if you pick a fight on purpose, he'll catch on to it and either tickle you (excessively) or flick your forehead as punishment for trying to rile him up. it’s impossible to prank him!!!!! it’s like he’s got a sixth sense or something so you might as well give up on anything of the sort.

you said you want to get a dog (or cat) with him in the near future and he somehow equated that to having children. turned bright red and started saying it’s too soon to be thinking of that while you had daichi stop you from smacking some sense into your overly imaginative best friend. (i mean, you do need to live together if you want to raise a pet sooo)

his lockscreen is a picture of the two of you so a lot of people who try to hit on him take the hint quick. he says it’s unintentional but you know he can be terribly scheming at times. if you say something like “why don’t you date me for real, coward” he will malfunction and not be able to look you in the eye. (“don’t joke around, y/n” “what if i’m not” “it kind of feels illegal to date you” “what do you mean?!💢”)

anyway you are one lucky mf if you have sugawara koushi as your best friend even if there are both ups and downs (mostly ups). having someone care for you so blatantly certainly makes the question of romance arise but you’re content with the most loving best friend ever.

❀ bokuto :-

you guys are the “two best friends in a room, we might kiss” “yes we will” “what” type of best friends PLS

it doesn’t matter what stage of life you met him, it’ll feel like you’ve been best friends since the beginning of time.

it’s just so easy to make friends with this airhead and by god’s gift, you cannot physically get annoyed at this man. sometimes his friends will complain about him being forgetful or blunt but you’re just there like. yeah. that’s bokuto. love him for it. (you seem to have a lot of patience.)

he probably gets into trouble with authority unwittingly, so save your weekends to sweet talk his way out after accidentally implying the coach has a weak mindset. afterwards, you go get ice cream or something and hang out at the dog park to forget it happened. (the amount of second hand embarrassment bokuto has given you though... you need some hard drugs to forget all of it.)

you probably make a lot of friends through him in high school/college but at the end of the day, it’s just you and him and sometimes akaashi making sure you guys are alive. if you guys are alone together on a friday night, you’ll still be having fun!! very often, it takes shape as karaoke :-) bokuto thinks he’s really great at rapping for some reason (he’s not) so cue you screaming the lyrics in an attempt to ruin your part of the song equally. also he always sets the key wrong??? although you sing the same songs each time?? sometimes he picks a song neither of you have ever heard and the both of you try to guess the melody. he’s terrible at it but at least he’s funny. there’s not a single song he hasn’t had a voice crack in.

if you go clubbing/partying with him, get prepared to be introduced as the friend of “the guy who did four keg stands in a row before proceeding to do a cartwheel unprompted and somehow not throw up”. is on first name basis with the bartenders/hosts and gets you free drinks. also gets hit on often but is oblivious unless they’re being very straightforward. if he’s not into them... you have to pull the s/o card and save his ass. oh also he barks at anyone that gets near your drink.

will always exaggerate when introducing you to new people. “y/n and i met when i saved them from drowning a terrible death.” “it was the children’s pool and you were the one that was screaming.” “and then y/n didn’t really thank me but it’s not like heroes need thanks to do the right thing.” “kou, i will push you into a pool right now, let’s see how well you swim.” (he learned swimming to impress you so joke’s on you.)

he likes to watch you do stuff at the end of the day, so if you see him go o_o at you doing homework, you can just put your earphones on and focus on your work. even if he’s making.. a strangely.. adorable expression. also LOVES to listen to you talk about your day when he’s tired, he says it helps him sleep better (so expect a lot of nighttime calls). moreover, if you say you had a bad dream, he’ll comfort you with his ridiculously confident tone of voice (unless the dream was about something bad happening to him, then he’ll freak out and you’ll have to comfort him instead </3)

ok one thing that’s annoying about him is that he probably leaves food crumbs over your stuff like laptop, bed sheet, etc. you clean it up but bokuto.. is a bit... distracted to notice the mess he’s making. it’s usually pretty difficult to get him to be more aware, but like your glare is enough to make him at least try to be careful from the next time. (either that or he’s become sensitive to your change in mood/emotions bc you know... you’re best friends after all.)

i’m not gonna lie, he probably catches feelings for you at some point. he wants to, like, keep it lowkey bc akaashi told him to take your feelings into consideration too but?? it’s so hard?? you’re literally so pretty?? everything you say is like music to him??? he reacts reflexively to all the firecracker feelings u give him. he probably says he likes you all the time but you dismiss it with “as a friend right :-)”. there’s no climbing up from that one, sorry bokuto.

to summarize, if a moody golden retriever was your human best friend.exe

❀ miya twins :-

they feel like a set. it would be strange to have one of the twins as a bff and not have the other one around whoops 🤷‍♀️

either you and osamu bully atsumu in your free time, or you and atsumu annoy osamu for fun (or both) <3. it’s always a good idea to team up with osamu and prank atsumu for fun btw. (put wasabi in his breakfast pancakes and you’ll get a very pissed off but weirdly cute tsumtsum. you can blame it on osamu if you don’t want to face his wrath.) your alternative is to embarrass osamu in front of strangers with atsumu, have fun with that. (second hand embarrassment also works.)

when you were younger, you pretended to not be able to distinguish the twins bc it would visibly rile atsumu up and then you’d go “ok you’re atsumu”... which would further rile him up. osamu got used to your shenanigans though it ticked him off the first time too LOL. call them the wrong name on purpose and they’ll start a riot; be careful when you’re playing with fire pls.

you guys played a lot of knight and prince/princess/royal when you were a kid and atsumu would always try to make osamu the evil dragon holding you captive. in the end, you were somehow the knight, osamu the prince to be rescued and atsumu the big, bad dragon. (it’s kind of funny in hindsight. your parents have photographs of the three of you fighting like no tomorrow.) also speaking of which, your parents are also friends and have bets on which twin you’ll marry (or if you will at all). it’s tearing your parents’ friendship apart.

these two have DEFINITELY fought over whose jersey number you’re going to wear to the games ( “oi, ‘samu, stop brainwashing my best friend into wearing your stupid double digit number” “you know i’m the best friend, ‘tsumu. they clearly like me better over yer ratty ass.” “what did ya say?!?!? if anything, you’re the one that looks like ratatouille.”) you wore kita's jersey number to games.

imagine sunday picnics with the boys !!! by that, i specifically mean osamu and his perfect bento boxes <3 sometimes the two of you will cook together before your outings while a sulking atsumu stands outside bc you didn’t let him. (let him in, you monsters.) he says he can cook too but the last time the twins’ bickering almost burnt the whole kitchen down. the picnics continue well into adulthood and you get to diss your boss to the twins who will always support your rants. (sometimes atsumu will tell you it’s your fault but you can smack him off. we only need supportive besties here 🙄)

if someone hurts u.... they’re going to need divine intervention to be safe... you have two well-built, physically adept best friends ready to beat the shit out of anyone who deliberately breaks ur heart.

when the twins get into a physical fight...... oh boy. it kinda pisses you off that they’re spewing profanity at each other and you’re the one getting glares. but at the same time, you don’t really want to step into a fight that has nothing to do with you. people should solve their interpersonal issues on their own. they have never fought over you, this isn’t twilight <3

but the question did come up once on which twin you like better; it’s not something to seriously fight over though. if you chose osamu, atsumu will complain for six days straight and you’ll start to regret ever answering the question. if you say atsumu, osamu won’t feed you his onigiri anymore for a few days which is just as bad. the safest choice is to say neither bc it will both be funny and you won’t suffer too many consequences. if you say you love the both of them for being your best friends all this time and go all mushy, there’s a slight chance they’ll go soft too. god help you from the bone crushing hug you’re about to receive 🙏

you make sure to not miss any of atsumu’s official games !! sometimes he’ll wave at you and make the reporters give you hell bc he’s a little shit. just push osamu to them and run away if it gets that bad. (he gets free advertising for his shop, he should be grateful.)

osamu is super good at cheering you up!!! whether it’s with food or with pleasant talk, you’ll be feeling much better with a full stomach and a calmer state of mind. as for atsumu, he’s really good at you cheering you up by distracting you. he’ll talk about his team or this new serve he learnt and the world will seem a lot brighter bc he seems so happy about it. whichever twin you go to, it’s win-win.

in return, the twins take up a good chunk of your time. sometimes atsumu will crash at your place after a game though you’ve told him to not lead the damn reporters here. osamu makes you taste test his experimental onigiri... which are not always good..... no seriously, why’d he put honey and tuna in there ?? but still, your life is ridiculously colorful with them around.

anyway, what can i say except what’s better than one best friend?? two best friends !!!

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #atsumu x reader #osamu x reader #bokuto x reader #sugawara x reader #hinata x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu scenarios #atsumu #osamu #bokuto #sugawara #hinata #rosemi.hcs #kind of all over the place but it's about the vibes thank you #feel free to correct any typos i made im about to pass out gn ;-;

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justthehiddleswrites · 4 years ago

Text

Accidently Married | Tom Hiddleston x OFC | Chapter 3 | And Miss Out on Mum Meeting the Girl You Married Without Telling Her? Not a Chance

A/N: Tom makes certain comments about an ex (who is unnamed). It is a fictional girlfriend, take from it what you will. Keep your hate to yourself.

SERIES MASTERLIST HERE

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Molly Bishop)

Summary: Tom is stuck in a news cycle from hell; Molly is stuck in the dead end job of bartending with a pile of student and credit debt. Tom has an idea to solve all their problems. Get married, get the paparazzi off his back, divorce after a year and Tom pays off Molly’s debts. Tom has everything figured out, that is until he sees Molly as more than a just a friend and so does someone else. In this vying for affections who will win, the handsome Brit or the boy from Boston?

This Chapter: Molly finally gets to meet Luke and they try to convince him that this marriage is not some elaborate plot to manipulate the press. And Tom makes a critical error. We learn more about Molly and her past.

Warnings: fake marriage, smut (vaginal sex), mentions of: child abuse/neglect, foster care, substance abuse, cheating.

TAGLIST IS OPEN! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED! THANK YOU FOR READING!

–

Tom regretted drinking two cups of espresso the next morning before heading to Luke’s. He definitely regretted not eating anything more than a piece of toast with butter and marmalade. Even after Molly offered to make something for him.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to make you eggs, an omelette? I could probably manage some French toast before we have to leave.” Molly sipped her tea as she ate some oatmeal.

French toast sounded divine at the moment as Tom’s stomach did somersaults. Molly’s knee bounced in the passenger seat on the way to the Prosper office.

“Do you think Luke will yell at me?” Molly asked. “I don’t do well when people yell at me.”

Tom’s head snapped over at her. She sighed.

“Foster parents are not always kind. Bio parents can be worse.” She wrung her hands.

He reached over and squeezed Molly’s knee. “I promise I won’t let him yell at you.”

“Thank you, Tom. Are we telling him the truth?”

“Only if necessary.”

“Then what are we telling him?”

“That I went to Vegas, and I fell madly in love with you and on a whim we got married.”

“A fanciful tale.” Her head dropped to her chest.

“Oh, I don’t know, darling. You sell yourself short. You’re bright, funny, caring and dare I even say easy on the eyes.”

Molly blushed. “Thank you. You are not so bad yourself. Although I seriously question your dietary habits.”

Tom chuckled. “I’ll work on it. And I hope after all of this we will be good friends.”

“Me too.”

“Looks like we are here.” Tom parked the car on the street. He hustled around to open Molly’s door and help her out. “Time to face the firing squad.” Her eyes widened. “Kidding!”

By the time the meeting was done, Molly wished it had been a firing squad.

“Luke, this is Molly Bishop, now Hiddleston.” Tom wrapped his arm around her waist. “My wife.”

“My condolences.” Luke shook Molly’s hand.

Molly’s brow furrowed. “I…”

“Of all the stupid shit you have ever fucking done—” Luke started in on Tom.

“Luke, watch your tone.” Tom jabbed a finger in his publicist’s face. “You are not to yell at Molly.” His bright blue eyes flashed and his fists clenched.

Luke took a step back. “Right. Take a seat and let’s see if we can straighten this out.”

They sat next to each other. Molly reached for Tom’s hand and he took it. Luke sat down behind his desk, staring at the two of them. Luke pinched his nose hard and took several deep breaths. Before speaking, he poured a glass of water and dropped two Alka-Seltzer into the water. Molly stared at the whole thing. Tom leaned over.

“For later. Luke says I give him indigestion.” he whispered.

“And headaches.” Luke added.

“I can understand the feeling.” Molly muttered under her breath.

“I beg your pardon!” Tom twisted around to face Molly. “Et tu. Is this about the vegetables?”

“It wouldn’t kill you to eat one every so often. You’re not 21 anymore.”

Tom gritted his teeth. “I said I would work on it. Can we not talk about this right now?”

“You’re the one who brought it up. I was just making a comment.”

Luke’s head bounced back and forth like watching a tennis match, a smirk growing on his face.

“You two are good. Really good. Damn Tom, the lengths you will go to… hiring an actress to pretend to be your wife, that’s—”

“We got married, Luke. In Vegas.” Tom retorted. “Darling, do you have the copy of the license?”

Molly grumbled. “I do, but we are not done with the whole diet thing.” She rummaged through her purse and produced the folded piece of paper. “Show him the photos.” She whispered to Tom as she handed over the license.

“I’m not showing him the photos unless I have to.” Tom hissed.

“Show me the photos, Tom.” Luke beckoned him.

Tom side eyed Molly and handed over the license and his phone. Luke glanced at the license and then scrolled through the photos, eyes growing wider. He zoomed in on one and squinted.

“Is that a spider ring?” he asked.

“His name is Clive.” Tom deadpanned.

Luke cuts his eyes at Tom. “Of course, you named it. You wouldn’t happen to have the ring, would you?” He turned to Molly.

She let loose a breath, exasperated. “Honestly,” she jabbed a finger at Tom and then Luke. “I was not expecting the Spanish Inquisition.” She dug through her purse again. “You are both lucky that I planned ahead.” Molly slammed the two Tiffany boxes on the desk. “There, here is your pound of flesh.”

Luke opened the boxes and found the spider ring and plastic gem ring. His eyes went to their proper rings and then ran his hands through his hair.

“Holy shit, you got married.”

Tom rolled his eyes. “I have been saying that for the last 24 hours, mate. Can we move on?”

Molly giggled.

“I… I… apologize. Sorry.” He sputtered, he turned to Molly. “I’m sorry, Molly. You have no idea the things this man has put me through.”

“I can imagine.”

“Hey! I—”

“Not talking to you, Tom.” Luke held up a hand. “I am talking to your bride. Clearly the reasonable one. Although she did marry you, so…”

Tom slumped in the chair. “Two of you. I thought you were on my side.”

Molly reached over and rubbed his arm. “I’m always on your side, honey.”

Tom smiled and leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Thank you, darling. Do you believe me now, Luke?”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but yes, I do.” He slammed his hand on his desk, rattling his water. “Now let’s talk about these.” He held up several newspapers.

Forty-five minutes later, they finally ended the meeting. Tom was starving. Luke grilled Molly about her background. By the end of everything, Tom now knew that Molly spent the ages of 12-18 in foster care, went to college where she worked two jobs to make ends meet, and has no contact with her younger brother who was adopted. Tom felt a twinge of guilt listening to Molly tell her life story. He never really bothered to ask.

Luke led them to the door but stopped short.

“How did your mom take the news, Tom?” Luke asked. Tom froze and paled. Luke leaned in. “You did tell her?”

Molly glanced between them. “I thought you called her when we got home.”

Tom ran his hands through his hair. Little bits stuck up. His mouth fell open and his eyes widened. “I forgot. I was distracted by someone yelling at me.”

“You haven’t told your mother about us?!” Molly screeched.

Luke chuckled, which soon turned into a full belly laugh. “You are so dead, Tom.” Molly gasped. “You will be fine, Molly, but pray for your husband. There is nothing scarier in this world than Diana Hiddleston mad at her only son.”

Molly gulped. “I will keep that in mind. Now if you excuse us, we have some calls to make.”

Tom nodded, still reeling from the fact he didn’t tell his mum, or his sisters, that he got married. Fake or not. He hoped she hadn’t seen any of the photos yet. But knowing Emma and Sarah, they sent her the links. “Right, calls.”

Molly pushed Tom out of the office and towards the elevator. She waved bye to Luke as the doors closed.

“That went better than expected.” Molly shifted her weight from side to side.

“Yeah, yeah!” Tom blinked and came back to reality. “You were brilliant. What made you think to bring the rings?”

“People have the tendency to believe you when you can present physical evidence. That, coupled with the photos, lends credibility. I mean, who gets married with a plastic spider ring?” She laughed and Tom joined in.

“Genius, really. Luke would have never—” Tom’s stomach rumbled. He blushed. “You were right I should have eaten something.”

Molly stretched to reach his cheek and gave him a quick peck. “You will soon learn I am always right. Let’s find you some food and then you call your mother.”

“Fine.”

They found a place for Tom to grab a sandwich since it was too late for breakfast and not quite time for lunch. Molly stared on as Tom inhaled the sandwich, a bag of potato chips, and a bottle of water.

“Did you taste any of that?”

Tom glanced up at her as he poked the last bit of the sandwich into his mouth. “Yes.”

She shoved a napkin towards him. “You have crumbs on your face.”

Tom swallowed. “Thanks.”

“Call your mother.”

Tom slouched. “Can’t we wait until we get home?”

“No.” She stared him down. “If you don’t do it, I will.” Molly lunged for his phone, but Tom was too fast and grabbed it first.

“I’m calling her right now.” He held the phone to his ear, praying it would go to voicemail.

“Tom!” Diana’s warm voice filled his ear. “How are you doing, love?”

“Doing good. A bit of jet lag, I was in Vegas over the weekend.”

Diana hummed. “And how is Luke?”

Tom chuckled. “Angry at me as always.”

“If you would just listen to him…”

“I like her.” Molly popped in.

Tom waved her off.

“I know, Mother. Listen,” He fidgeted with his hair again. Molly realized it was an absolute tell when Tom was nervous. “I was wondering if you might like to grab some lunch this week. We can catch up. So much as happened since I last saw you.”

“I would be delighted, Thomas. Why don’t you come up to the house? Does Wednesday work for you?”

Tom mouthed “Wednesday” to Molly, who shrugged her shoulders.

“Like I’m doing anything? You and Luke are the only people I know here.”

“Right.” He returned to the call. “Wednesday is perfect, mum. Noon?”

“It’s a date. Don’t forget to bring that wife of yours, Thomas. I am quite keen on meeting her.”

All the blood drained from Tom’s face. “I… I… can explain—”

“I’m sure you can. On Wednesday. I have to go, love. It was good to chat.” The line went dead.

Tom stared at the phone. “I’m so dead. She knows about you.”

“Oh, she knows. You are her son. And didn’t you mention having sisters? They totally ratted you out.” Molly smiled at him.

Tom had some appointments on Tuesday which kept his mind occupied from seeing his mother the next day. Molly took some time to figure out how to change her name, get a new passport, and figure out how to maneuver life in a foreign country. Tom took her to get a phone that would work.

“Here you go.”

The first thing she did was snap Tom to add to his contact list. He was laughing in the photo.

“Don’t use that one!” Tom pouted. “Let me pose.”

“But I like this one. It captures your essence.”

But now it is Wednesday morning. Tom woke up early to go for a run. Molly was already up, sipping tea in the living room.

“Can I join you?” she asked upon seeing Tom in workout gear.

“I run about three miles…”

“Sounds perfect. Give me two minutes.” She bounded off the couch towards her bedroom.

Tom fiddled with his headphones until Molly emerged in sneakers and workout leggings. Over the ear headphones around her neck.

“Ready to go.” She tucked her phone into a pocket. “I will just follow you.”

“Let me know if you need to turn around.” Tom winked as they set off.

They returned home about thirty minutes later.

“Sure you don’t want to go another mile?” Molly bounced on her feet.

Tom breathed hard. “Maybe another time. I’m a bit out of shape. You run?”

Molly nodded. “Most days I run. If I get up in time. I miss the gym.”

Tom chuckled. “We need to get you a membership. And I need to ..get into shape myself. Can’t let my wife show me up in paparazzi photos.” he half-joked.

Molly coughed. “They take photos of you running?!”

“Sometimes.” He took a sip of water, his heart rate going back to normal. “Definitely now with you in the picture.”

Molly raised an eyebrow, stepping towards him, grabbing the water bottle from him. “Think they are out there right now?”

Tom glanced around and sure enough, he spied a few cameras with zoom lenses down the street.

“Yup.”

Molly wrapped her arms around his neck. “Maybe we should give them a more scandalous photo.”

Tom leaned down. “What did you have in mind?” he smirked as Molly tugged his head towards her and her lips crashed against his. She sighed and Tom slipped his tongue into her mouth. Molly did the same. As he fisted the back of her shirt, Tom noticed one of Molly’s arms moving.

“AH!!” He screamed as the cold water poured down on his head and Molly jumped back laughing.

“I thought you needed a little cooling off.” she laughed.

Tom lunged for her with a smile on his face, droplets of water falling from his hair.

“You’ll pay for that!” Tom gave chase, while Molly dashed into the house, screaming and laughing.

She made it as far as the living room before Tom’s long legs caught up with her.

“Got you!”

Tom grabbed her by the waist to pull her towards him, but their feet slipped and they ended up on the couch. Tom on top of her. Their eyes locked for a moment before Tom scrambled to his feet.

“I’ll get you all wet.” he commented nervously. “I should…”

“Right.” Molly nodded, sitting up. “I’ll make some breakfast. Eggs and toast. I don’t know what your mother is planning on for lunch.”

“A light breakfast would be best.” Tom shook out his now soaked t-shirt and Molly caught a glimpse of his abs.

“No problem.” She smiled.

They both headed off in different directions. When it was time to leave for Diana’s house, Molly fidgeted with her casual dress and knee-high boots.

“Do I look okay?” she glanced at Tom in jeans and a sweater. “I’m overdressed. Look at you, casually gorgeous. I’m going to change. I have nothing to wear. Nothing to wear…” Molly’s face broke down.

Tom wrapped his arms around her. “What’s going on, darling?” She buried her head in his sweater. “You didn’t freak out like this when we went to go see Luke.”

“That was business. This is your mother. I don’t do well with families, particularly mothers. What if she hates me?”

He kissed the top of her head. “First off, you look beautiful. Second, if my mum hates anyone between the two of us, it will be me. She is going to love you, darling.”

Molly sniffled and dabbed her eyes with the back of her fingers. “Really?”

“I am 100% certain. Now let’s get on the road.”

Molly smiled and nodded. The fear wasn’t gone, but she felt better knowing Tom would be there with her. That fear came rushing back as they stood on the front step of the house of Diana Hiddleston. Tom reached for Molly first.

“I’ve got you, darling.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek right as the door opened.

“Gross, Tom. And at Mum’s house no less.” Emma gagged.

Tom’s cheeks turned a bright pink. “Emma! I didn’t expect you to be here.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “What a surprise.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “And miss out on Mum meeting the girl you married without telling her, not a chance.” Emma turned to Molly. “Emma.”

“Molly B… Hiddleston.” She smiled and extended her hand. Emma shook it with a firm grip.

“The papers didn’t give a name. She seems nice, Tom. Clearly she doesn’t know the real you.”

Tom continued to blush. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Em. Can we come in or are we eating on the front step?”

Emma held the door open wide and stepped aside. They stepped inside. “Mum’s in the kitchen.”

As if on cue, Diana’s voice rang out. “Is that them, Emma?”

“They just got here!” she yelled before turning back to them. “She’s been cooking all day.”

Molly gulped. Tom squeezed her hand. An older woman with grey white shoulder length hair. She came up to Tom's shoulder, if that.

“You were supposed to tell me when they got here.” she scolded Emma.

“I was on my way to tell you.”

“Go take the food out of the oven.”

“But…” Emma protested.

“Go, child. You’ll have the entire meal to listen to me yell. Right now I need a word with your brother.”

Emma pursed her lips as she walked into the kitchen but made a slashing throat gesture, mouthing the words “you’re so dead” at Tom before disappearing.

Diana wiped her hands on her apron. “Now where is my new daughter-in-law?”

Molly raised her hand. “That would be me. Molly, ma’am.”

Diana held open her arms and wrapped them around Molly tight. She realized where Tom got his hugging skills.

“You are just a doll. Is my son treating you well?”

Molly nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“So polite and much shorter than the last one. Right at eye height for me.”

“Mother…”

Diana waved Tom off. “And please call me Diana or Mum or Mom. I promise I don’t bite.”

Molly giggled. “Yes, ma.. Diana.”

Diana hugged her again before spinning to face her son.

“Tom.” She crossed her arms.

“Mum.” Tom grew very interested in the rug on the floor.

“Do I get a hug?” Diana smiled.

Tom looked up and grinned. “Always.” The two of them hugged tight, Tom bending at the knees to wrap his arms around her. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.” Diana pulled back.

Her hand reached out and smacked Tom right upside the head. Tom cowered, covering his head.

“Mum!” he howled.

“You got married and didn’t tell me!”

“I was getting around to it. Luke distracted me!” Tom explained.

Diana smacked his arm. “Do not blame Luke for this, he is a saint! You were keeping this lovely girl away from me.”

Molly beamed as Diana smacked Tom one more time.

“You think I’m lovely?” she asked.

Diana turned to Molly. “Oh dear. You are perfectly charming. Unlike my wretch of a son.” Another smack to the chest.

“Really, Mum? In front of our guest?” Tom flinched.

“Molly is family.” Diana stopped, took a deep breath, and smiled. “Now with that sorted, let’s go eat.” She spun on her heel and headed back to the kitchen.

Tom hooked his arm with Molly’s. “My mother.”

“I like her.”

Emma and Diane pumped the two of them for every detail about this abbreviated courtship.

“A chapel in Vegas, Tom? Romantic.” Emma sneered.

“I thought so.” Molly added.

“Thank you, darling.” Tom leaned against her.

“Awww.” Emma commented.

Diana stood to clear the dishes as Emma examined Molly’s ring.

“Let me help you.” Tom rose to help, taking the rest of the dishes. Diana grabbed his arm when they reached the sink.

“I really like her, Thomas. You did well.”

“Thank you. She is something.” Tom smiled.

“Much better than the last girl you brought home.”

Tom frowned. “Mum, I…”

Diana held up her hand. “I know. Don’t mention her. But I will say this. There was something about her that didn’t sit right with me.”

“You never said anything to me.”

Diana smiled softly and cupped Tom’s cheek. “You seemed so in love and happy. And all I have ever wanted for all my kids is to be happy.”

“Oh.”

“But none of that matters. You have Molly now and the two of you have years of happiness ahead.”

Tom glanced over to where Emma and Molly hunched over Emma’s phone. Tom’s heart twinged with guilt.

“Right. Of course.” He smiled.

Molly burst out in laughter.

“What is so funny over there?” Tom called out, heading over to the table.

Emma giggled. “Just some old pictures.”

Tom’s face fell. “No, you didn’t…”

Molly giggled. “You were so skinny and that hair!”

The two girls fell into a fit of giggles as Diane placed a hand on Tom’s shoulder.

“Yes, I like her very much.” she whispered. “Why don’t we pull out the old picture albums?”

Tom groaned.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston angst #accidently married

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auroracalisto · 4 years ago

Text

lotus flower

summary: escaping an abusive relationship was difficult. rushing to a camp in the middle of nowhere to escape your husband shouldn’t have been as terrifying as it turned out to be.

pairing: xavier plympton x reader x chet clancy, reader x abusive husband named roger

word count: 1.5k words

warnings: abuse, physical abuse and mental abuse, mentions of abuse and physical depictions of what happened, ahs 1984, canon typical situations

a/n: idk if i’ll actually continue this bc idk if it will do well. however, i wanted to see the response i would get and i really liked writing this in general soooo. also, for the title, just look up the meaning of a lotus flower :) you’ll understand if you don’t already.

You were running. From him. From your past. From the nakedness that now adorned your ring finger. And that’s how you ended up at Camp Redwood, as a counselor. It was a job, far away from Roger. As much as you had wished you could have stayed and not uproot your entire life, you knew that staying there was dangerous.

The fading bruises on your stomach were proof of that.

You had heard about the position through the newspaper—the only survivor of the 70′s massacre wanted to open it up to try and create some good memories there.

Miles away and deep in the forest was your best bet of avoiding your abusive husband.

So you called and inquired about the job—you weren’t even interviewed hardly. The woman asked your name and said you were accepted. All you had to do was show up the day before the kids were supposed to be there. It would be you and a couple other counselors, but there weren’t that many kids—you wouldn’t be bombarded by everything.

You had hardly been out of your car for five minutes when Margaret led you over to Bertie.

“While we wait for the others to arrive, maybe you can help Bertie,” she said, giving you a smile. “I’ll be back.”

She didn’t wait long before she rushed off, leaving you alone with the chef. You gave her an awkward smile.

“Hi...”

“Hi, sweetheart,” she said, balancing her cigarette between her teeth as she talked. “Here,” she moved to grab a crate full of bread. “Take this inside for me?”

You immediately did as you were asked, taking the crate as soon as she handed it to you. She took notice of your shakiness, but she didn’t comment on it, much like she didn’t comment on the multiple scars you had lining your bare arms.

Bertie took in a couple more things with you, only taking a break to light another cigarette.

"And this is Chef Bertie," Margaret said, walking up alongside of quite a few other people. You stood by her truck, looking at the people as they all came around. "A Camp Redwood veteran."

"Dibs," a man with blonde hair and a blue shirt quickly spoke. He smiled over at his friends, clearly joking.

"You wouldn't know what to do with it if you got it, handsome," Bertie spoke, smirking over at the man.

You couldn't help but laugh at Bertie, quickly placing a hand over your mouth.

"And who are you?" the blonde quickly asked, raising an eyebrow.

You averted your gaze.

"She's another counselor. She got here earlier in the day. [Your name]'s car was the one you parked beside of," Margaret said.

"Oh, so the one Xavier here almost hit with his door?" a blonde girl grinned, crossed her arms over her chest.

Xavier's eyes widened and he looked back at her. "I did not!"

Bertie rolled her eyes, holding up a crate of eggs. "Put those scrawny arms to work and help a lady fill her pantry. All of you, grab a crate. This heat is a killer," she spoke, sighing softly as she removed her cigarette. "You don't have to carry anymore, [Your name]—"

"—I can," you smiled over at the woman. You moved to take a crate which looked as though it had been filled with bottles of spices, sugars, and flour.

The man beside of Xavier had taken the crate of eggs.

A guy with brown hair came up beside of you, his arm brushing against yours as he grabbed a crate himself. He blushed but couldn't help himself from smiling at you.

"Sorry," he said.

You gave a hesitant smile, moving to walk back into the dining hall when Margaret began to speak again.

"Chef Bertie here worked here when I was a counselor. We are so blessed to have her with us."

Bertie continued to talk while everyone else carried in crates. You stayed inside, putting things where they needed to go—it wasn't that hard to figure out things. Of course, you avoided putting up things like spices. You didn't know if she liked them organized a certain way. As you walked back out, you couldn't help but overhear Bertie.

"I'm sorry that one bad apple ruined it for everyone. Minute I heard Margaret was reopening this place," she said, waving her hand, "I was the first to volunteer."

Margaret looked at everyone and breathed through her nose. "Alright. Let's continue with our tour. [Your name], come along with us. You haven't seen everything yet."

You gave a small nod and hesitantly followed along, looking at the group of people. They all seemed pretty friendly with each other.

The lot of you walked along towards the showers. Margaret was set on showing you all everything.

"Girls shower in the AM, boys in the PM. Same goes for counselors, too."

Eventually, your walk lead you to the cabins.

Margaret eventually left you all alone, and you stayed in the girls cabin. The boys ended up sticking around, talking with the girls that they clearly knew. You sat on your claimed bed, looking through your suitcase. You purse your lips, half-listening to their conversation, half-not even paying attention to what you were looking for.

“Hey,” the same boy who bumped into you earlier spoke. “[Your name], right?”

You looked up, seeing him standing right in front of you. Your eyes widened but you nodded.

“Uh, yeah.”

“I’m Chet,” he grinned. “Mind if I?” he pointed to the spot beside of you.

You nodded in response. Chet sat down beside of you on your bed, handing you an unopened can of beer.

“Uh, no thank you,” you said, shaking your head. “I’ve... seen enough alcohol to last me a lifetime.”

“Seen—“ he stopped himself, nodding slightly as he watched you. “Alright. Well, why don’t you come join us? I promise, we don’t bite,” he chuckled softly. “We’re gonna turn on the TV. Don’t be a loner,” he said. “We’ll be here all summer anyway. Might as well get to know each other now.”

You nodded, knowing he was right. “Uh, okay,” you said, nervously biting the inside of your cheek.

Chet continued to smile in your direction. He stood up, holding his hand out to you. “Come on,” he said.

A feeling in your gut was screaming at you to just stay put. But you reached out to take his hand, knowing that for the first time in several years, you could do so without someone waiting to ridicule you for it.

Chet smiled even more once you took his hand and he lead you over to the couch.

Everyone introduced themselves to you, making sure they knew your name correctly as well.

The flirtatious blonde looked over at you, his eyes set in a glare.

“You better not think about stealing Bertie from me.”

Your eyes widened and you felt your cheeks burn. “I would never—”

“Mhm,” Xavier rolled his eyes. “I saw how you looked at her. If I were her, I would have looked at you the same way.”

“Wow, Xavier,” scoffed Ray. “Give it a rest, will you?”

“What?” Xavier laughed, keeping his eyes on you. “I mean it, though. You’re like super fucking hot,” he said.

You averted your gaze, guilt swelling in your chest. This was wrong. You were married. To a piece of shit asshole, after all. Your marriage to him didn’t matter. Especially now that you were so far away. You didn’t have to feel guilty. You didn’t have to feel like you were going to get in trouble. No one here knew of your past, and they would never know as long as you never said anything.

After a moment of thinking of what to say, you looked back up at Xavier with a smile.

“You’re not too bad, yourself,” you said.

Xavier let out a triumphant laugh, grinning. “Sweet,” he breathed out, looking you up and down. Montana slapped his arm and he leaned back where he sat, rolling his eyes at her. “Can you not hit me again? Please? That kind of hurt.”

Chet cleared his throat as he looked at you. You quickly turned to face him, hoping that he didn’t think it was wrong of you to say so.

“He’s definitely not lying,” Chet spoke. “You’re super fucking pretty. I, uh, don’t want you to settle on him just yet,” he grinned, leaning against his hand as his elbow rested against the couch.

You couldn’t help from your own laugh escaping you. “Don’t worry, Chet. He’s not the only cute guy here,” you said, locking eyes with his. You noticed his blush right off the bat, but you didn’t say anything about it.

You were glad you were here. This was good. It would be good. It had to be good. But what you didn’t know was that your hopeful thoughts were far too good to be true.

#xavier plympton #chet clancy #chet clancy x reader #xavier plympton x reader #chet x reader x xavier #xavier x reader x chet #ahs #ahs 1984 #american horror story #american horror story x reader #american horror story 1984 #xavier #chet #xavier x chet #reader insert #x reader #multi-part?

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