#Sun is such an awful liar. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aureatchi · 9 months

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⛇₊˚ʚ₊˚✧ AND I CHOSE YOU, ‘CAUSE YOU’RE ALL I NEED ft. dazai, chuuya, fyodor, nikolai

some winter prompts/scenarios with the bsd men…and other romantic things they spoil you with.

info. fem!reader. fluff fluff !! domestic moments. profanities from chuuya. established relationships. kissing. mentions of a fake! machete from nikolai lmao.

DAZAI says: it’s too cold to get out of bed! can’t we just stay in and cuddle?

As soon as your eyes fluttered open, you were greeted with the realization that it was far too late to wake up at this time on a weekday. You could see the sun outside your window, overlooking the blanket of snow that had fallen the night before. Panicking, you tried to turn towards your nightstand to catch a glimpse of your clock to confirm your thoughts, but a leg wrapping around your waist stopped you.

“Osamu?”

“Morning, beautiful,” Dazai’s sleepy voice replied, continuing to trap you in an embrace with his arms.

“What time is it?” you asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied, but that only made you feel even more uneasy. You forcefully shifted out of his grasp to look at your clock—woah, you were both supposed to be at work an hour ago.

You sat up on the bed, startling Dazai. “Osamu! We’re supposed to be at work! Why didn’t the alarm go off…I haven’t played with it lately…”

Another realization. You sharply eyed Dazai with a frown, who, in contrast, had his signature mischievous smirk on his face, even through tired eyes.

“Did you turn it off?!”

“Huh?” He yawned. “Now, why would you accuse me of such a thing? I don’t see why the alarm should be turned off.”

“Exactly!” you replied. “But who else could’ve done it? A ghost?”

“Hmm.” He tapped his index finger on his chin in thought. “Oh, I know!

“How about fate?” His hand moved to cup your cheek as he answered you in a flirtatious voice. You tried not to cringe at how corny he sounded. “What if fate wanted us to miss work today so we can stay in and spend time together inste-”

“Now this is where you gave yourself away!” you cut him off, moving towards the end of the bed to stand up. “Who said we’re missing work? It’s better to be late than not show up at al-”

Dazai grabbed your arm, pulling you back in.

“Osamu!”

“Yeah, unless you’re sick! Wouldn’t want to infect everyone else with a cold, right?”

“But none of us are sick?”

“Too bad,” he whispered, pulling you back under the covers. “I already called the Agency. I told them that…” he made dramatic coughing sounds, “...you were sick, and of course, you got me sick too!”

“What?!” you were in disbelief. “You liar! You could’ve at least not put the blame on me!”

“Oh, don’t be mistaken! I said it was my fault—you just looked so adorable while sick, I just had to cuddle up with you the whole night! So naturally, I got sick too. Isn’t that believable? I’d do the same if it actually happened.”

You facepalmed. “You’re not making it past Ranpo.”

“Don’t worry about him. I’ve taken care of that too,” Dazai smiled. There was no getting around Ranpo, but it would only be a problem if he exposed the lie. So, Dazai had bought him a stockpile of snacks to keep his mouth shut.

You sighed before snuggling up against him. It looks like you weren’t going anywhere today. Not that you were complaining anymore—if your lover handled everything anyway.

“So why did you want to stay in?” you asked.

“Because I knew I’d feel cold if I got out of bed.” The brunette’s fingers started stroking through your hair as you rested your head on his chest, relaxed by both his hand and the faint thump of his heartbeat.

“That’s it?” you laughed. “You didn’t want to be cold?”

“That, and because I want to spend time with my belladonna, duuh.” Dazai turned you around so he could see your face.

“You look pretty. Just like an angel, more bonny than any other snow angel.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as his eyes studied you in admiration, flustering you. You were in awe that he could call you that when you had just woken up—you probably looked like a mess. He was the one who looked lovely—amber eyes peeking through his untidy hair and pretty eyelashes, the faint pink that surged through his cheeks when you kissed his knuckles, his bandaged chest that was revealed under his slightly unbuttoned pajamas…Dazai looked as dreamy as hearing his morning voice. And man, was it attractive, too.

He gave innocent pecks from one corner of your mouth to the other, and you reciprocated. You gently peppered each other’s faces with sleepy kisses until you rested on his torso again.

“That’s right, bella,” he cooed, rubbing your back. “We can relax today.” You wrapped your arms around him, enjoying the warmth he provided. “And if you’re hungry, we can order something from wherever you want later, yeah?”

You nodded with a smile. “Sounds perfect.”

CHUUYA says: let’s go ice skating, darling!

“C’mon, doll, it’s okay. Promise I’ll catch you if you slip!”

A local lake had frozen over, and you’d always wanted to learn how to ice skate, so Chuuya saw it as the perfect opportunity to teach you. Yet now, you stood at the edge with your skates, intimidated by the sapphire water that rested below the thin layer of ice and having nowhere to hold onto for support. Thankfully, it was just the two of you there; you would’ve felt even more nerve-wracked if others were watching.

“You’re so rude, Chu! You left me!” you whined, your voice traveling across the serene scenery. Chuuya simply laughed—he had skated a few feet off into the lake, waiting for you to follow. Yet, to you, it seemed so much farther than that.

“I’m right here!” he replied. He motioned for you in a way that reminded you of how a parent encourages a baby to take their first step. “Here, baby!” He cooed, holding his arms out. “You can do it.”

“Are you mocking me?! You’re talking to me like a little girl!”

“You are my girl though, sweetheart,” the ginger responded.

You sighed, your breath visible as it fanned out into the cold. “There has to be some sort of compensation, though, if I do fall!”

“I’ll massage whatever hurts if anything does,” he promised.

“Fair.” Chuuya’s massages were priceless.

You slowly stepped onto the ice, trying to keep balance on the blades attached to your feet. You looked up at Chuuya, panicking.

“Bend your knees.” You immediately followed, which helped you stabilize yourself.

“Now push off from one knee to the other,” Chuuya continued. Slowly, you started moving towards him, skating into his arms when you reached him.

“Wasn’t so hard, was it?” he smirked through the embrace. “Good job. Now c’mon.”

Chuuya started leading you across the ice, helping you get used to the rhythm and being in sync with each other. Once he saw you get the hang of it, he suggested something.

“We can go really fast, yknow,” Chuuya proposed. “If you want…I think it’ll be exciting.”

“Exactly how fast?” you asked.

“I’d use my ability to enhance it,” he smiled. You knew that would speed you up tons.

“Okay,” you said after contemplating for a few seconds. “I trust you.”

Chuuya moved in front of you to hold your hands in his. “Hold on tight, baby!”

You gripped onto the executive as he activated his ability. And with one push, after making sure you knew it was coming, you two zoomed across the lake, wind breezing past you. You screamed—in surprise, fear, and exhilaration, as Chuuya steered you both, even more talented doing it backwards.

“Damn, you’re flying, doll!” he exclaimed and loosened his grip on one of your arms. Chuuya spun you around on the ice as he slowed the both of you down, bringing you to a complete stop with a kiss.

“Already like a pro,” he praised. “You learned so fast. And what’d I say? I promised I wouldn’t let you fall.”

You chuckled, feeling warmth heat up your frost-nipped cheeks as Chuuya cupped your face with his fingers. “I still want a massage, though. Pleeease?”

He smirked. “Fuck, I could never refuse since you asked so nicely. And I guess you deserve something for doing so well on skates. Of course.”

“Yay!” You cheered as you skated in a circle around Chuuya before connecting his lips with yours once again.

“This was incredibly fun, Chu.”

FYODOR asks: is the fireplace not enough? you need me to warm you up, too?

“It’s cold.”

You and Fyodor were in a cabin high up in the mountains, the epicenter of planning his next mission. Fyodor often traveled, and you always accompanied him, despite his warnings of how boring those journeys would be because his attention would be mainly focused on his paperwork and mapping out the areas by the temporary headquarters.

You always reassured him you were completely fine with it. You understood his job and were used to him not having his attention on you all the time. You were content reading through his collection of novels with his cursive annotations scribbled throughout the pages to pass the time while he sat devising schemes.

Though right now, you were starting to shiver, even below the three layers of your sweater. The heat radiating from the candle on the desk you sat reading at wasn’t enough—you were still cold.

“Put your coat on,” Fyodor replied from another table. He had let you have the true desk by the bookshelf with the comfy chair to lounge in while he took the dining table.

“It’s too bulky. It’ll be uncomfortable,” you said, gliding your hand over a page.

You heard a sigh. “Must you always choose comfort over practicality?”

“Of course, when I have the privilege,” you chuckled. “Can I light the fireplace?”

Fyodor looked up from his work. “Yes, I’ll help you.”

“Are you sure? You seem busy. I can do it myself.”

“No worries, as long as you don’t distract me with anything else.”

You gave him a knowing smirk. “I’m not sure if I can guarantee that,” you replied as you headed for the wooden logs in the back. Fyodor followed you, helping you carry a few over to the fireplace.

You ensured all the air vents were open as he threw the wood in, starting the fire with a lighter. Fyodor sat in the single armchair right in front of it, checking to see if it was stable from afar.

“How’s this?” he asked, watching you on the floor, getting close to feel the flames. “Warming up?”

“Yes,” you responded, turning towards him.

“Good. You can sit here while I return to-“ he was both cut off in speech and from getting up when you lowered yourself onto his lap. “Milaya…“

“I warned you I couldn’t guarantee it,” you whispered, straddling him. You weren’t forceful—each move was as graceful as a ballerina’s glide, and it was probably because, despite his words, Fyodor differed to fight back.

“Stay for a little, please,” you softly pleaded, trapping the ravenette even more by wrapping your arms around his neck. “Can you take a short break?”

“You’re asking me as if you’re giving me a choice,” Fyodor chuckled, still seeing you give him no room to leave. “Fine. I’ll indulge in your wants this once.”

“It’s more of indulging in my needs,” you corrected him, looking into violet eyes. You then picked up the book you had been reading earlier to continue.

“Enjoying it so far?” he asked, moving the hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ears.

“Yeah. But I’m not going to lie, I think I like your annotations more than the actual book.”

“How flattering.” Fyodor smiled. “I enjoyed reading it a lot, too, though. That’s why I wrote so much.” You flipped open to the page you left off on when you suddenly had an idea.

“What if you read to me?” you asked with a giggle.

His face showed rare, genuine surprise for a moment. “Hm? It’s not like this is some bedtime story…

“I’m not against it, though.”

And so, he started reading to you. You sang in victory in your head because though you would never admit it to him—Fyodor had too much ego for you to heighten it even more—you loved his voice. His accent laced the words of the plot that resumed as he spoke from page to page.

You couldn’t think of anything more perfect. Hearing the satisfying tone of his tongue accompanied by the ambiance of the fireplace and the flipping of pages…you could stay nuzzled up against him like this forever.

“I thought you said you were enjoying it,” Fyodor paused after some time, noticing your eyelids drooping and head limp against his shoulder. “Yet you’re falling asleep.”

“I am,” you said, your words slurring. “I’m just really comfy like this. It feels cozy…makes me sleepy…”

You tucked your face into his neck. Fyodor gently closed the book before wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Well, it can’t be helped…” he whispered. “Sweet dreams, dorogaya.”

NIKOLAI says: let’s build a snowman!

“Why are you putting the carrots for eyes?” You shook your head in disappointment as you watched Nikolai create his ‘snowman.’ It hardly looked like one, honestly. The only thing normal about it was the base—which you had helped him with. Three spheres of snow stacked upon each other to make the snowman’s body. The rest…was very Nikolai.

He had put the carrots as the eyes. And the snowman had three orange, pointy eyes. As for the mouth, he sculpted a smile out of clay, which was fine, but of course, he made it in a way that looked very ominous. Then, the jester had decorated it with a bunch of colorful pom-poms. The whole thing was very random, but you knew something like this was coming.

“And finally!” Nikolai pulled out a fake plastic machete.

“Kolya, what the heck?! Now, we really can’t leave this here! What if some kid stumbles upon it and takes the knife?”

“It’s fake, baby, don’t worry!” He replied, running his finger along the sharp end.

“Well, yeah, but still! I don’t think anyone’s parents would appreciate that!”

Nikolai sighed before a portal appeared, swallowing his entire snowman and the machete inside.

“You play too safe sometimes, love.”

“Where did you transport that to?!”

“The Sky Casino,” he giggled. “I’m sure Sigma will find the new decoration lovely!” You immediately felt pity towards the poor man—you imagined him having to clean up a puddle of melted snow and other objects in the casino.

You just stood for a moment before Nikolai spoke again.

“Okay, I’ll actually make something you like,” he said. “Could you help me with the base?”

You didn’t know what he was going to do next, but you helped him anyway after making him promise he wasn’t going to pull out anymore weapons, real or fake. You stacked the snow on top of each other and waited to see what he was going to do next.

Nikolai transported two buttons that reminded you of your eye color to place on the snowman’s face as its eyes. He then used two sticks to create a cute smile. Then, he pulled out a hat and scarf that looked like the exact ones you were wearing…

“Wait, huh?” You glanced down at your attire and then at the articles, you saw Nikolai dressing the snowman in. “Where did you even get that?”

“The place where you got yours, duh!” he responded. You tried to push away the thought in your head that he most likely stole it. But now, you understood what he was doing. So, while he finished replicating you, you started a snowman right next to his.

“Kolya, can you please let me borrow your top hat? And a green and a gray button?”

His face grew elated. “Sweet dove! You’re doing what I’m doing!” He summoned what you had asked for. “Here you go!”

In the end, Nikolai had created a snowman of you, and you had built a snowman of him. It made your heart warm at how sweet it was.

“Yours looks so cute!” you exclaimed, looking at the one of yourself. You then teased him. “Honestly, I’m surprised you were capable of this.”

“No snowman will ever be as cute as you,” he responded with a wink. “And what can I say? I’m full of surprises.” He then threw himself onto you.

“And you made me! My heart could burst right now…look at us together!” You felt everything happen at once after that—one moment, Nikolai was spinning you in the air, absolutely thrilled, and the next, his lips sealed yours in a passionate kiss.

“Quiz time,” Nikolai whispered on your mouth.

“What must’ve I done to deserve the best girl in the world?”

rbs are cherished; they are your christmas gift to me <3

tags : @kissesmellow21

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mikanotes · 6 months

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don’t even bother ft. aventurine x gn!reader — just something short bcs his va is too good at his job and him voicing that post made me go oh wow! warnings cursing, clingy aven and reader in denial about their feelings, one suggestive joke, badly written Sorry! this is very much dedicated to nour enjoy ur bf

The light of the sun indicates that the day has started much longer ago than you had originally thought. You cling onto sleep, nevertheless, not at all fond of the idea of facing the day properly.

“Alright. I understand.”

There isn’t need for any context for you to get that the second disruption of your attempts at going back to dreamland is a call concerning work, of all things. The clear exhaustion and barely concealed frustration in Aventurine’s voice as he speaks to the person on the other end of that call indicates he probably feels the same as you.

Irritated enough to go back to sleep immediately after hanging up.

“Let’s schedule the interview for today.” he says, sounding like he’s stretching. Oh, great. He’s decided to be professional and get up. You hear him heave a long sigh, probably after hanging up, and blindly try to reach for him.

“No.” you mumble, frowning slightly. Aventurine hums, seemingly surprised, then chuckles.

“Hm? No?” he repeats, and leans down. You open your eyes enough to see him cover the painful rays of sunlight streaming through the curtains. He looks at you and tilts his head with a smile, “Not even a hello, huh? You’re so polite.” his voice drips with sarcasm.

You try to press your palm to his face but he grabs your wrist before you can, laughing. He presses closer to you and leans his forehead to your shoulder. “No what?” he asks, whispering. You don’t appreciate the chill that runs down your spine. He’s so close.

“No to leaving before me. I heard that call.”

He smiles against your neck before pulling back to look at you. “Who says I’m leaving?” he huffs softly, “I was just trying to sound awake, okay? And since when were you this clingy?”

“I’m the same as usual,” you complain, turning to lay on your back, “I just don’t want to be kicked out become the actual room’s owner isn’t here, is all. It’s a pain to deal with.”

He’s right. You’re not a clingy person. In fact, you don’t usually find yourself sleeping in the same bed as anyone, no matter how close you are to them. This is just… A rare occurence.

You and Aventurine getting one too many drinks at a nearby bar, you realizing you didn’t get yourself a hotel room prior to the whole ordeal, and crashing in his luxury bedsheets before he could protest.

And the worst part of it? You slept well.

In any case, the problem was that the warmth of someone by your side as you slept felt much more comforting than you’d expected it to be. Maybe it was just the previous night’s drinks residue blurring your thoughts. Maybe that’s what made you say no to him potentially leaving before you could actually process it.

Maybe it’s just because it’s him, and you never really mind him being so close to you.

He sighs and moves over your figure, planting his arm at the side of your head to hover over you. “You’re an awful liar. You wouldn’t last at poker.”

“Enlighten me. What the hell am I lying about?”

“This.”

He smiles, and it somehow makes you all the more aware of the distance between the two of you. It’s not nerve-wracking but it’s not uncomfortable. And it’s not comfortable, either, but it’s somewhere there in the middle. It’s on that line that makes your head struggle to keep up and that’s more than enough to tell you how badly you’re handling what should be a routine, by now. This is nothing new, come on.

“Who am I lying to…?” you continue.

He scoffs. “Yourself. I can practically see the gears turning inside your head. It’s almost cute.”

It’s your turn to scoff. “Almost.”

He smiles to himself but doesn’t add more, moving away from you. He breathes out tiredly as he leans back against his pillows, a hand moving to cover his eyes. “You should get the higher-ups to call for a room for you. No one’ll bother you then.”

“You’re the higher-ups, do it yourself, you have the funds.” you imitate a robotic-sounding voice, then sigh, “That’s what they’ll tell me.”

“Mm, will they, now?”

You look at him. Only then do you notice the sun on his skin, his slightly messed up bangs, and the one button holding that cursed hotel pajamas top. You press your eyes shut with half a mind to hold back an annoyed groan. Don’t look at him like that, you repeat in your head.

You and Aventurine are friends. He likes to tease and flirt but that’s just how he is, so there’s really nothing more to it. You work as a negotiator for a group who frequently deals with the IPC’s offers and request for help to convince people of their grandiose plans. And Aventurine is arguably very high-up in the ranks of the IPC. It’s a wonder you even became friends, but it has been a long while now. A long while of bantering, clinging into each other just a bit too much, and listening to the other’s stories the very few times either of you actually opened up.

— Most of those times being after drinks. Nevertheless, it counts for something.

But you’ve never seen him in this kind of light. In sunlight! You’re not seeing him in any kind of new light at all. It’s just a different atmosphere than what you’re used to around him. You’ve spent time talking for hours at quiet bars or helping each other out in the most chaotic situations, but it’s never been this.

It’s so… calm.

But your phone rings. You sigh heavily before you grab it and answer the call. “Hello?” You barely get to properly register who called you before the voice of your senior at work starts complaining in your ear. You grimace.

Aventurine stares at you curiously.

“… This is really last-minute. Seriously?” you say, then wait for an answer. Seems like you’re needed somewhere again. But calling you saying to get to a location one system hour later is just… “Fine, I’ll— I said fine. I’ll be there. Yeah. Yes, sir.”

You hang up. Quiet daydream’s over.

“Turns out I’m gonna need to leave, anyways.” you mutter, sitting up. You suddenly become very aware of how comfortable it was simply laying there talking with Aventurine. Now that you’re faced eith your usual duties and loud coworkers, you’re forced to realize just how soothing the man’s presence is in comparison.

You feel a hand on your arm. It’s warm on your skin, holding some remains from the sun’s touch. You turn your head to see Aventurine’s fingers trailing down slightly, seemingly in thought. “How about…” he trails off, brows furrowing.

“How about?”

He looks up at you and grins before pulling you back into him, wrapping his free arm around your waist swiftly. You end up much closer to his face than either of you had anticipated but you don’t move away, and neither does he.

“How about we take a day off?” he whispers.

You try to say something but no word comes to mind. Aventurine stares at you for a while and you notice his gaze flitting down your face for a flicker of a second before he grabs your arm more firmly and pulls you closer, leaving you no room to even attempt thinking. “Hm?”

“I, you… Fuck you.” is the only response you manage to get out of your throat, and even that sounds half-hearted. It almost sounds like a question, even. You have to blame it on the exhaustion. You brain’s not cooperating, right now.

“Are you offering?”

Now he’s done it. You manage to grab his pillow from underneath his head to swat it at him, making him exclaim in surprise and soon yell for mercy. “Okay, hold on, hear me out, I’m sorry!”

You lower the pillow, looking down at him. You’ve been close before but straddling him’s a new one. Outside of fighting, that is. Maybe this counts as fighting.

“Good Heavens.” he huffs, hair at least ten times messier than it was before, “Okay. That was unnecessary.”

“False. Deserved.”

“…Perhaps.” he clicks his tongue, and carefully picks his pillow from your hands, like it’s a gun threatening to fire at him. “But that was no answer to my offer. Shall we take a vacation?”

“You get to decide when your vacation is?”

His sigh sounds nothing short of exasperated. “Just play along, will you? If you do, I’ll find a way to cover for both of us.” he says, fingers touching your face for who-knows-why. His eyes focus back on yours and he raises his eyebrows questioningly.

You’re not going to immediately say yes.

“Fine. Full blame’s on you if my boss kills me.”

He laughs, seemingly pleased with your answer.

“Then rest.” he says quietly, pulling you against his chest. You tense for a while, then relax. Now the sun is on your skin, too, and its warmth almost seems to beckon you back into sleep. Or is it his arms wrapped around you? You can’t tell.

Maybe the world feels a bit less harsh and cold when Aventurine is with you, and maybe you just shouldn’t bother questioning it.

#aventurine x reader #aventurine hsr x reader #aventurine honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x reader #x reader

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rainybubbles · 5 months

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What hug COD men would give you ?

Ghost, Price, Soap, Gaz, Keegan

(Sorry in advance for my mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. So sorry if it's badly written or if they're OOC.)

G H O S T : Comfort hug.

You always used to jokingly ask Simon, "Want a hug?" knowing how much he detested physical contact.

He'd always respond with a firm no.

It became your way of greeting this burly soldier, a ritual of sorts.

So why... why was he now whispering those words to you?

"Need a hug?" His voice was hoarse, raspy, bearing the marks of too many cigarettes and too much silence. Yet there was an unexpected warmth in it, a warmth that could thaw you.

"No." you said.

Cold and trembling, with lips turning blue and tears welling in your eyes, you were at your breaking point.

It started with a soldier's criticism, then your chief's belittling of your work, followed by a letter from your mom, a malfunctioning oven, and a stubborn onion. It all culminated in your retreat to the cold room, seeking solace, seeking release.

But the door was jammed, leaving you alone in your despair. What a pathetic demise for a cook. Yet Ghost, ever watchful, came to your rescue, finding you in your distress. And in that moment, he echoed your jest.

"Need a hug?" he repeated.

You nodded. He knelt beside you, gathering you in his arms, offering not just his warmth but also solace. Your arms instinctively wrapped around him.

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

"It's okay."

"The lock, it—"

"For everything."

"Do I look that awful?"

"Yeah."

"You're supposed to say no."

"Not a liar, darling."

"Not a hugger either, but here you are."

"You're the exception, I suppose."

You were.

What you initially thought were mere circumstances now seemed to hold a deeper truth.

And the next day, when you initiated your ritual greeting with "Need a hug?" Simon's response of "maybe" signaled a shift in your dynamic.

________________________________

SOAP : "I'm home in your arms" hug.

He always gives hugs.

Soap is a very physical person; you knew that even though you were just a friend of a friend. You never dared to speak to him much, too shy. He seemed like a sun.

At gatherings, you were always quiet, so you weren’t sure if he remembered your name.

But he always had his eyes on you, always had his hug for you, and when nobody listened to your ramblings, he was there asking you to continue.

It was a silly crush; his hugs were something you secretly enjoyed. A thing, a treat for your heart, even though you knew it wouldn’t be more.

So when you opened your door, expecting it to be the delivery man from something you ordered online or maybe some important packages to sign, but…

You got bumped into.

You fell with the strength of the stranger’s hug until you recognized the mohawk.

“John?”

“Sorry, I got carried away,” he said, helping you up.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m the one who needed a place. Mancy asked you, right?”

You remembered.

Mancy had asked if her friend could stay at your place for one week.

You didn’t know it would be John.

“Oh, yeah.”

“You don’t seem happy.”

“Well, if you hug me so hard I’ll fall every day, then no.”

He chuckled.

“It’s because I’ve missed you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, after three months without your pretty smile, a man goes insane.”

“My dad lives just fine without it.”

“True, but he’s a moron. I’m not. Now give me a hug.”

“Okay.”

And you did.

Gently, you noticed his hands around your waist, the way he slowly soothed his breath.

You didn’t know, but the only thought Johnny had in mind was, “I’m home.”

____________________________

GAZ : "I'm sorry" hug

The TV droned on in the background, but your gaze couldn't focus on it. Your stomach was tied in knots, and you felt utterly lost.

The argument had been trivial, blown out of proportion by fatigue and frustration. You and Kyle were both drained, and the clash of tempers only fueled the misunderstanding, escalating it into a full-blown confrontation.

Now, you found yourself at a loss for what to do next. Kyle had stormed off for a walk, his usual retreat during tough times. But this time, his absence felt like an eternity.

You knew you could reach out, ask him where he was, beg him to come back. Yet, your stubborn pride held you back.

Was it pride or fear? Fear that he wouldn't return?

The nagging voice in your head echoed the doubts others had planted—that you weren't good enough for him, not pretty enough, not kind enough. You felt inadequate, unworthy of his love.

Your eyes stung with unshed tears, your nose tingling with the threat of more to come. It felt absurd to be sitting here, watching a documentary while your relationship teetered on the brink of collapse.

Your eyes stung with unshed tears as you sat there, watching a documentary you couldn't even comprehend.

When the door finally creaked open, your heart leaped into your throat, memories of past confrontations resurfacing. But the footsteps that followed were hesitant, tentative.

Turning slowly, you found Kyle standing there, mirroring your own disheveled state. Puffy eyes and tear-streaked cheeks spoke volumes of his own internal struggle.

Standing up, you met his gaze, unsure of what to say or do.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible amidst the silence that enveloped you both.

"Me too," you replied, your own voice catching in your throat. "It was foolish of me to let my anger get the better of me."

"I agree," he murmured, stepping closer. "We need to find a better way to communicate, darling."

"Yeah, and maybe get some sleep," you added, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Definitely," he whispered, extending his hand towards you.

You took it, feeling the warmth of his touch, and allowed him to pull you into an embrace. In that moment, words became superfluous as you both sought solace in each other's arms, tears mingling and laughter bubbling forth.

"I feel ridiculous," you admitted, your voice muffled against his chest.

"Me too," he confessed, his grip tightening around you. "But being with you makes everything better."

"Agreed," you murmured, snuggling closer.

"What if..." he began, his voice trailing off.

"What if what?" you prompted, lifting your head to meet his gaze.

"What if we can't sleep because of the neighbors?" he suggested, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Yeah, what about them?" you replied, confused.

"Let's move out," he proposed, his eyes earnest.

"Kyle, we live in separate apartments," you reminded him, a hint of skepticism creeping into your tone.

"Then let's get a house," he persisted, his gaze unwavering. "A place where it's just you and me, lost in the forest. Our sanctuary."

"You're just saying that," you countered, though a flicker of hope ignited within you.

"I mean it," he insisted, his voice tinged with sincerity. "I want a life with you, everything included. The silly arguments, the morning wake-ups, all of it. I don't want to wait to see you, but I also don't want you living on base. A house... it's us, it's safety, it's peace, it's..."

"Commitment," you finished for him, the weight of his words settling in your heart.

"Yeah, that too," he admitted, a shy smile gracing his lips.

"Okay," you whispered, a surge of emotion welling up inside you.

"Really?" he asked, his eyes widening in disbelief.

"Yeah," you confirmed, squeezing his hand.

He enveloped you in a tighter embrace, and in that moment, you knew that perhaps this sorry hug was the beginning of something beautiful.

________________________________

PRICE : last hug

You felt his embrace, and a smile graced your lips.

“I never pegged you as a hugger, Captain,” you remarked.

“Don’t talk, soldier,” he replied, his voice firm yet gentle.

Nevertheless, you found comfort in his arms, basking in the warmth they provided. Your consciousness nudged you to close your eyes and surrender to the moment.

“Cap, can I rest?” you inquired softly.

“Not yet,” he responded tersely.

“But why? Even ghosts nap during brief,” you persisted.

“Don’t make me spell it out,” he said, his voice trembling, tears glistening in his eyes.

Confusion laced your whisper, “Why are you crying, Cap?”

As you attempted to step back, you felt something damp on his hands. Bringin your own hand up, you saw it- red, your blood.

Blood.

Your blood.

It wasn’t a mere cut; it was a hemorrhage.

“Why…” you began, your voice trailing off.

“Don’t give up,” he interjected, his tone weighted with understanding.

He knew. You knew.

You wouldn’t last, and the medics wouldn’t arrive in time.

“Cap, could you...hold me tighter?” you pleaded, your voice barely a whisper.

“Soldier,” he acknowledged.

“Just one last embrace, please,” you implored, a desperate longing for affection evident in your words.

Yearning for one final moment of love.

He acquiesced.

You buried your nose in his aftershave, despite the mingling scent of tobacco. Your arms savored the feel of his gear, your cheek nuzzling against his neck, the roughness of his beard against your skin.

Despite the warmth he provided, a chill crept over you. Your lips grew heavy, your eyelids too burdened to stay open.

“I'm glad it was you, Cap. Your hugs are the best,” you murmured, a serene smile gracing your lips.

With your blood staining his gear and your body cradled in his arms, he granted you your last hug, whispering your name softly.

____________

KEEGAN : "you're alive" hug

His breath came in quick, shallow gasps, his ears filled with screams. His eyes focused on Ghost’s voice, and then he saw you, lying on the ground.

What were you doing on the battlefield? You were a civilian. He sprinted towards you, but your body remained still. He reached out for your hands, but they slipped from his grasp.

Nightmare.

His eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness of the room. His back was drenched in sweat, his mind replaying the image of you lifeless. He couldn’t move.

Reaching for his phone, he knew he wouldn’t believe you were alive until he saw it with his own eyes. He made his way to your shared flat, knocking on your door.

As you slowly opened your bedroom door, relief washed over him. "Keegan, what the hell—" He cut you off with a tight embrace, his hands on your neck feeling the rhythm of your heartbeat. "You're alive."

"Yeah, obviously. You saw me just two hours ago, we're roommates, Keegan."

"You're alive," he repeated, his voice trembling with emotion.

Seeing his state, you melted into the hug. "You need to sleep."

"I can't."

"In my bed, you can check if I'm alive like this, okay?"

"I don't want to—"

"Keegan."

"Okay."

Slowly, he settled into your bed, your warmth comforting him. You worked on your laptop, but he didn't mind. His arms wrapped around your body, he could feel the steady beat of your heart. He knew it was his favorite sound because it meant you were alive.

"Sleep well, Keegan."

"Thanks."

And that night, he didn’t have any more nightmares, wrapped in your embrace.

If you want more : my masterlist

#cod x reader #call of duty x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #captain price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #ghost simon riley x reader #keegan russ x reader #keegan p russ x reader

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mediumgayitalian · 7 months

Text

Will wakes up sometime around two, stumbling over to Arts & Crafts. He looks so incredibly, adorably sleepy, face creased with pillow marks and hair sticking out everywhere even worse than usual, that Nico can’t help his smile.

“Morning,” he says quietly, shifting over in the bench to make room. “Or, well, afternoon.”

“Mmfh,” Will responds. He sways on his feet, eyes still closed, so Nico has reach back and take his hand, guiding him to the seat Nico cleared for him.

“Still sleepy?”

Instead of answering, Will slumps onto his shoulder. Nico tenses for a moment, but quickly relaxes — Will is out of it. He’s a heavy weight on Nico’s side, and his breath comes out in little puffs; he’s halfway to snoring. He sets aside the clay sculpture he was making, wiping off his hands, and shifts slightly to make his shoulder more comfortable, sliding his hands in Will’s hair. After a quick glance to double check that no one’s around, he cards through the matted curls, carefully untangling the birds nest that sits currently upon his head.

“Night shift was long?”

Will groans, nuzzling deeper into Nico’s neck. Nico huffs, allowing it, turning his half-limp body so he’s practically sitting on top of him. It’s kind of a nice weight, actually. And Will is warm, slumped and half-sprawled in his lap like a freckly blanket.

“Got thrown up on three times.”

It takes Nico a second to decipher the words, mumbled as they are. His finger gets caught in a strand of Will’s hair as he winces, tugging a touch too hard. Will shivers.

“Oof.”

“Mhm. Shouldn’t complain, though. Not Cecil’s fault.” He pauses. “Well, it’s a little his fault. I told him not to mess with Billie’s garden.”

Nico smiles. “You know, it’s not the first time a Hermes kid has been poisoned for their dumbassery. You could’ve left his cabin to handle him.”

“They would do a horrible job. They might actually make him worse.”

“Yep.”

“…I can’t leave him to suffer, Neeks.”

“Hero complex,” Nico teases. “Sounds like a natural consequence to me.”

“Shhhh. I’m sleeping.”

“It’s two thirty in the afternoon, Solace.”

“Pot, kettle, et cetera.”

Nico smiles. “Only dorky people say et cetera when they’re half asleep.” He shifts, accepting that he has a lapful of head medic, now, no refunds or exchanges. It’s still, somehow, very comfortable — he feels as if he’s laying in a sun patch, under a warm, heavy blanket. Plus, Will smells like strawberries and lavender and his sandalwood shampoo. Nico could get used to it.

He does, however, subtly raise a couple skeleton to stand guard outside the gazebo — no need to get anyone gossiping. As cute as a sleepy Solace is, Nico can and will shove him to the ground the second anyone gets too close. He has a Reputation.

(He is a liar.)

“Did I miss the strawberry coffee cake this morning?”

“Yes.”

“Aw.”

Nico hums, untangling the last of his hair. Without anything for his hands to do, he slides them under Will’s hoodie, resting them in his stomach, ignoring his whining and exaggerated shiver at Nico’s ice-cold hands.

If Nico is going to function as his personal bean-bag chair, Will is going to function as his space heater. Fair’s fair.

“Saved a piece for you, though.”

He feels Will’s grin more than sees it, twisted up as they are. He feels his happy little wiggle, too, arms flailing before wrapping around Nico’s waist, thighs shifting before re-bracketing his hips.

“You’re my actual favourite.”

“Hm. I think you say that to all the boys you save you strawberry cake and let you nap on them.”

“Nah.” Will’s breathing starts to slow, body stilling as he rests his head right about Nico’s heart. He can feel his puffs of breath in his collarbone, tickling the skin under his thin t-shirt. “Just you.”

Nico flushes, more pleased than he’s willing to admit, and rests his chin on his head, watching over the strawberry fields. He checks that Will is actually asleep, and when he is, he presses a quick, darting kiss to his still-creased cheek, and smiles.

“You’re my favourite, too.”

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pitchsidestories · 1 month

Text

don't want you like a best friend II Steph Catley x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1748

a/n: inspired by this request here, we hope you'll like it.🥰

it's coffee time (group chat)

Steph

girls !!!

Jen

what's up, Stephy? It must be late where you're mate.

Beth

don’t write girls and let us wait!

Steph

I need to confess something.

Beth

tell us!!!

Steph

my best friend is gorgeous.

Beth

that was all? Wow, what a let-down 🥱

Steph

I think I'm in love with her.

Jen

you’re messing with us. You’re not serious, right?

RIGHT?

Beth

that must be a joke.

Steph

no, I'm serious.

Jen

are you absolutely sure about your feelings for her?

The next day

Steph

girls, I obviously meant it platonically. Sorry, I was a bit tipsy last night😅

Jen

drunk people and children always tell the truth.

Beth

you two should talk about this.

Steph

we're on vacation.

Jen

yeah, perfect opportunity for it

Ever since your started playing for the Matildas youth teams, you and Steph had been best friends. You were roommates at every game, you were the first person that got to meet Calvin when he was still a puppy and of course, the two of you would go on vacation together to switch off from the stress of football.

This year, Steph had booked a beautiful hotel with a huge pool for the two of you. Your room overlooked the ocean, and you were completely in awe when you first walked in.

In fact, you still were mesmerized by the beautiful view a few days later when you got ready to go down to the pool. You pulled an oversized shirt over your bikini and turned towards Steph who sat on her bed, frantically typing on her phone.

“Come on, Steph. Time to go down to the pool, the weather is perfect.“

“I’m coming in a sec.“, she said, her gaze still on her phone.

You gathered your stuff for the pool, throwing a towel over your shoulder: “Okay.“

Steph finished typing and turned off her phone: “I’m ready.“

“Perfect. Let’s go.“, you smiled as the two of you made your way to the pool.

It was still empty, the blue water glimmered temptingly in the midday sun, inviting you in. You dropped all your stuff on a deckchair and without hesitation jumped in.

Steph stared at you in surprise as you emerged back to the surface. You grinned at her, pushing your wet hair back. She looked so shocked, she must have missed that you had just jumped in.

She shook her head in disbelief but a smile softened her features.

“Is it cold?“, she asked?

“No, very refreshing.“, you laughed, splashing some water into her direction.

She quickly pulled her feet back to avoid getting wet.

“Maybe I’ll come in too.“

“You should!“

Steph got up from her deckchair and in contrast to you, used the ladder to get into the pool. Halfway in, the cold water hit her calves and with a shriek, she climbed back out.

You immediately burst into laughter. One of the toughest players that you knew and she still couldn’t handle cold water.

“You’re such a liar!“, Steph yelled and gave you reproachful look.

“Sorry but your face was so worth it.“, you wheezed.

“Hate you.“, she pouted jokingly.

“No, you don’t.“, you smiled, pushing yourself out of the pool.

She shook her head: “No, I don’t.“

“See.“, you grinned as you walked over to her, your arms outstretched and dripping water on the concrete.

Steph cursed under her breath as you pulled her into a very wet hug: “Ew, you’re dripping water everywhere!“

“Sorry not sorry.“

She rolled her eyes with fondness and moved her clothes in a pile from the deckchair so it wouldn’t get wet: “You’re so annoying.“

“Excuse me? I’m not as annoying as Kyra.“, you laughed and sat down next to her.

“No one’s as annoying as that little pest.”, Steph countered. Even in her pretended annoyance her love for the younger teammate shimmered through. They really were like mother and daughter sometimes.

“You love her too though.”, you smiled at her before your face turned serious.

After a pause you changed the topic. “Can we talk about last night?”

“You mean when I almost kissed you?”, she asked cautiously in return.

“Yes.”, you nodded slowly.

Not looking into your eyes, your best friend glanced at her fingernails instead.

“That was dumb.”, Steph muttered under her breath.

“Best friends don’t do that.”, you remarked calmly.

“I told you; it was nothing.”, the defender insisted fiercely.

“What if..”, you started carefully but were immediately interrupted by your friend.

“What if what? Is this one of those but what if we kissed as a joke things?”, she huffed.

“No, I’d never joke about such things.”, you stated firmly.

“Wait? What are you trying to say?”, Steph gave you a look you couldn’t quite interpret.

“I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”, you mumbled.

“That’s why you didn’t kiss me last night? That’s why you pulled back when I tried to kiss you?”, your friend pressed on, biting her lip anxiously.

“Yes and call me old school but you were tipsy and I didn’t want you to regret it.”, you smiled weakly.

“I.. that’s very sweet of you.”, she replied softly.

“But would you like to kiss me?”, you asked her, your heart pounding hard against your chest. It was a question which potentially could change your friendship forever.

“I think I do.”, Steph admitted, putting a loose hair string back behind her ear.

“Me too.”, you confessed nervously.

“You do?”, she glanced at you surprised.

“Yes.”, you confirmed, sounding sincere.

“I guess we should then.”, your best friend grinned shily.

“I agree.” You could hear her stomach growl, so you quickly added with a smirk on your lips. “Maybe we should have dinner first.”

“Please.”, Steph answered while you walked hand in hand to the restaurant inside the hotel.

“That was so delicious, and the dessert was perfect.”, you sighed happily, once you both had finished your dinner.

“Agreed, it was really good.”, the defender said.

“Can I?”, you have begun almost timidly. The anticipation for the first real kiss has risen for you two over the course of the three courses meal, it was nearly unbearable. You were so hungry for the touch of your friends soft and sweet lips. Waiting for her reply.

“Yes.“, Steph said quietly.

That was all it needed, you leaned forward and kissed her gently and carefully. You pulled away after a few seconds, searching for any hint in your best friends face. “And? What do you think?“

Steph bit her lip with a smile, her eyes sparkling in excitement: “Can I try again?“

“Please.“, you laughed. This time you let her initiate the kiss.

Stephs lips found yours with impatience and a sense of urgency. This kiss lasted longer, it was more passionate.

“I like it!“, Steph decided as she ended the kiss abruptly.

“I like it too.“, you grinned.

You noticed that she was still staring at your lips.

“I never kissed anyone that tastes so good.“, she admitted.

You couldn’t help yourself, you had to reference the Matildas’ iconic warm up song which was also Stephs favourite song of all time: “Strawberry kisses.“

“Nothing’s as sweet, the taste still drives me crazy.“, she sang the lyrics.

“Such a good song, I hope we’ll hear it at the Olympics.“

Steph looked at you like you had gone crazy for a moment: “Of course we will!“

You grinned at her: “Of course. You’ll play it.“

“Exactly.“, she confirmed, lost in thoughts while her fingertips reached for yours.

This year’s vacation must have been your favourite so far. There were many more kisses after your very first one, slow mornings in the hotel bed and lazy touches in the afternoon sun.

The memories of your holidays followed you to the Matildas training camp a few days later.

As usual, you arrived with Steph. Only this time, there was more between you than just friendship.

You felt like you were constantly grinning, like all your teammates would know immediately by just looking at you.

But there was no time to greet the other player as you were knocked off balance by Kyra who pulled you and Steph into a hug: “Missed my mums!“

You frowned at her but laughed: “Mini is over there. She is your mum.“

You pointed towards Katrina with Harper sitting in her lap.

Kyra rolled her eyes: “Yes, but…“

She didn’t have to finish her sentence, you understood.

“She’s busy with her two small children?“

“Yeah.“, Kyra pouted playfully.

Steph gently stroked the younger players hair: “Poor pest.“

You met Stephs gaze with a grin and shrugged: “I guess it’s our turn to babysit, babe.“

“Babe?!“, Kyra and Caitlin both echoed simultaneously.

Kyra pulled out of the hug to study the two of you with excited, curious eyes while Caitlins face was pure bewilderment.

Steph bit her lip and reached for your hand: “I don’t think I have to explain this, right?“

“Yes, you do!“, Caitlin disagreed, impatient to get the full story.

“It just happened.“, Steph offered her short version of events which earned her an eye roll from Caitlin.

“So, you two are not only best friends but girlfriends now?!”, Kyra gasped dramatically.

“Yes. She’s, my girlfriend.”, your lover confirmed, smiling proudly at you.

“Wow, that’s amazing.”, Caitlin yelled excitedly.

“Thanks, Caitlin.”, you gave her a grateful smile.

“So that happens when two best friends go on a vacation together.”, Mackenzie commented with a huge grin on her lips.

“More like when two people who had a crush on each other for years go on a vacation together.”, you corrected her.

“And who were too afraid to ruin such an old friendship.”, Steph added, looking at you lovingly.

“My favourite idiots in love.”, Alanna sighed, moved.

“Lani, we’re not idiots.”, you protested smirking.

“You’re a bit.”, the Portland Thorns goalkeeper disagreed amused, referring to for how long it took the two of you to realize that you don't want each other like best friends.There always have been something more than friendship and your teammates saw that all along.

“But only a bit.”, you replied.

“As long as you finally figured it out.”, Caitlin intervened soothingly.

“That’s so cute but can we all get ready for training now.”, Tony Gustavsson requested smiling.

“Ugh, Tony.”, the youngest Arsenal player groaned.

While the training begun you thought to yourself that were was nothing better than to be on that football journey together with your friends and the love of your life.

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kneelingshadowsalome · 1 year

Note

Hi! If you're still taking requests I'd love request a drabble about the moment when Konig and Reader first noticed each other and what they thought/felt during that moment based on your "Just Friends" fic.

Btw I love your work and oh my god, it's perfection, absolutely amazing. Super excited to read chapter 3&4 (no rush take your time!!)

Thabj you!!!

Even Demons are Lonely

Wordcount: 3.8 k

Summary: König sees reader for the first time. Soon, the promise to never touch someone as lovely as her turns into a vow to never leave her side.

Tags/warnings: F!Reader, König POV, Just Friends universe. Angst, twisted & fluffy feelings, pining, obsessive behavior, stalking, panty stealing, mentions of past trauma, abuse and patricide, yandere!König falling in love (=being delusional). Mild sexual and violent themes.

A/N: I did take my time with this one... 🩷 And it's only König POV, but I hope you enjoy! 💋

"Abashed the Devil stood, and felt how awful goodness is, and saw Virtue in her shape how lovely – saw, and pined His loss..."

– John Milton, Paradise Lost

Purgatory.

That's the word that stuck to him when he was learning English at school, simply because it was an accurate definition of how he felt.

Adults used to say there is heaven and hell, and then this world, the world of humans, somewhere in between. They said he would go to heaven after he died and that bad people would go to hell.

They were all liars because hell already existed here on Earth. He had lived there ever since he was born.

The first memories of the cutting are shallow and pale, like they happened to some other boy. With every hit and cut and every cry, the sounds turned muddy until he was mute too, until all he could hear was mother's crying and Papa's roaring. The old man always got more mad when people cried and cowered.

That's when he knew he would someday do something about bad people, that crying and cowering and begging wasn't going to help. It was the birth hour of hope and heaven. He dreamed of killing his father, killing his "friends", killing everyone who looked at him like he was a freak.

He soon learned that this was not what people associated with heaven at all. He learned that there was a word for people like him, for phantoms who were morbidly interested in death and decay.

Ghoul.

A grave robber and a corpse feaster he was not, but neither was he going to pretend that some people didn't deserve to be gutted. If being normal meant he should just play along and pretend that there was justice in this world, then he was happy to be morbid. A little ghoul boy who grew up in hell, who dreamed of heaven, who slipped behind the thin veil between the worlds when he was four, who learned how to make the knives dance while everyone around him suffered.

He learned to cry and beg before he learned to speak, but when the words finally started to make sense to him, he had no use for them. No one wanted to talk to him, so he settled to observe. Life was a film reel running by, and words were useless when all he wanted to do was roar. There was a growing, gaping maw inside him, shrieking and spitting blood while he was without a voice.

It took a while to make Papa cry and beg. But he begged, eventually. In his last words, he tried to hide behind a woman’s skirt.

"Don't do this to your mother," was a plea that didn't ignite mercy: it drove him off the ledge. Looking at the horrible excuse for a man squirming at his feet made him realize he should've released his mother from this demon years ago. He was too weak, and he vowed to himself, to the whole world, that he would never be weak again.

………………

Sometimes, a glimpse of true heaven can be seen on a clear summer's day when the sun shines, when bees are buzzing and a beautiful voice sings a love song on the radio. Beautiful, peaceful things only add to his suffering. They are simply evidence gathered – examples of everything he will never have.

The air clots inside his mask with a brew of old sweat and acrid gunpowder. It's usually enriched by a hot desert wind or the stench of dust and emissions, a city's rotten core. It would feel odd to be met with a fresh breeze or the smell of rust and smoke than have them dampened by the baggy mask. He's certain that it would only be painful to feel the full brunt of the world on his naked face again. His enemies can't see him when he kills them, so they can't haunt him either.

He is the only ghoul here. He is the one who haunts.

He's learned to let love and peace go. He came here to reap; that's his job. Ghouls cannot love or be loved. They are supposed to get rid of the plague, do what normal people can't do, what good people deem hideous and wrong.

People have always been alien to him: they both know something he cannot seem to decode and are unaware of the constant presence of the Maw. He has to feed it in order to not be swallowed by it himself. It helps with the constant yelling for a while.

His father was the first demon to be punished, but he has learned that all demons are liars when they beg. They don't know what real hell is like. That's why he didn't give mercy to his father, and that's why he doesn't give mercy to them, either. It's not hell, it's not heaven, so he must be in a limbo state in between.

That's why he calls this place purgatory.

………………

He sees a woman under the sun one day.

The sheer sight of her sitting there on her little blanket spread over the grass, dressed in a pure white dress is like a torturing dream from above. It stops him in his tracks like there is suddenly an invisible wall in front of him, forcing him to halt.

His heart is pounding, but that's not new. His heart is always tight and racing, and that's why it's better to have a heavy gun in his hands than hold onto nothing at all; it's better to do something than do nothing at all. The only thing that calms the endless roil inside him is work; when there's no work, it helps to go outdoors, somewhere between the shadows between thick trees.

Trees are better than people...

But they're not better than a woman like her.

He knows his mind plays tricks sometimes with females. That is why at first he thinks that the creature before him is not from this world either. How could someone like her even end up here? There are few ladies in the base, and none of them have picnics; none of them look like angels.

She looks up at the sky, at the single cloud drifting across the cerulean blue that hurts his eyes. Sun shines on her exposed throat, her stare is dreamy as she basks in the warmth and raises an apple to her lips.

He stops breathing as she takes a bite, fearing it might stain the beautiful white dress from how juicy it is. The runaway apple juice drips down her chin, but she catches it with her finger, then sweeps the sweet taste of it back into her mouth.

Her lips hug the finger gently as she savors the treat, and his breath returns to him, heavy and with a pang, like someone just punched him between the lungs.

She can't be human...

He wonders if she's even real.

He's hungry, but the need to devour this woman turns into a need to worship her before he can even decipher what is happening to him. He would grovel at her feet if that's what it took to get her to feed him some of that fruit. His mind goes numb from the need to march there and hug her. Just hold her, so close that he forgets what it is to breathe.

He knows she would only scream, and it's good he's been walking in the shade. It's good that she can't see him unless she turns her head. Because she must be an angel, and angels have no business with ghouls.

He should go and leave her be... Mortals he can want, humans he can torture, but a celestial being he could never touch. The wind carries a whiff of apple juice to his nose; it overrides the stench of sweat and gun oil and smoke.

And then the angel turns her head.

It's Judgment Day, but she doesn't condemn him. She blinks a few times, lashes fluttering like he's another sun, the dreaded black sun, and she can't bear to look directly at him. But there's no disgust, no uneasiness, there's no fear. There's only shyness and the smallest smile.

The pain inside his gut turns into a brutal stab, pure suffering. He hasn't hoped for anything for a long, long time. Now hope bleeds into his stomach with golden tingles, like those rays of sun that caress her skin.

He thought good things would feel… well, good, but to his horror, they feel painful too. She's painfully sweet. Even the demon inside him falls silent, the only demon he cannot destroy. It's finally quiet, as it should be. Everything in him bows to this greater power of Her.

But she can't be real... His mind is sick and has finally conjured up the most beautiful thing he can never, ever have. He's been called a freak, he's been called a dumb ugly giant, he's been called so many things, but he's not stupid enough to think that the creature hugged by the golden aura of light is meant for him.

So he squares his shoulders and pushes through the invisible wall, back behind the veil, back to where he belongs, and leaves the heavenly apparition in the sun.

………………

The next time he sees her is after a mission and inside the base.

He brings mud and blood inside after a few rainy days spent in the mountains. He's so soaked that not even the 3-hour flight managed to dry all the dirt. She's waiting for him, or that's how it feels like when she gives him a small, relieved smile and starts to clean the mess he and every other operator leave behind.

His angel is not only a celestial visage but a cleaner.

She keeps the building that houses people who destroy life, clean. She scrubs the filth killers like him bring inside the cold, dead compound built on what used to be a forest full of birds, life, and wind through the trees.

No one thanks this girl as she humbly dusts a table or mops the floor. No one understands that she's a saint for coming to the purgatory and making it a more decent place for the demons and ghouls to live. And she's relieved every time he comes back unharmed. She's happy to see he's alive. There's someone waiting for him. And not just someone, not just anyone, but an angel.

It's unbelievable how no one has claimed her yet. She has no one to keep her safe, and it makes his hands twitch. If he was her protector, she would never have to work again.

She's not like the rest of them: she doesn't turn her gaze away when he flicks a knife out. She likes to watch him make them dance. It's a ritual that makes him invincible on the battlefield. He used to do it every morning before school to stay safe – there were no angels back then to keep him alive.

He almost stops the first time he sees her watching how he goes through the rite.

No, look away, little angel... You're not supposed to see this; this is a death dance, it's filthy, demonic magic.

But she's not afraid of his blades or the way he weaves his spell of protection. The girl follows his moves entranced. Her eyes shine, and he nearly drops the blade – he hasn't dropped a knife since he was ten – because there's hunger in her stare. Not as fathomless as his, but deep enough for him to recognize it.

His angel is lonely and trapped too.

He completes the dance, returns the knife to his pocket, and looks back, straight back.

She doesn't look away. She doesn't wince or lean back, no: she leans forward, and he can see it, the way her pulse flutters on her neck, the way her mouth opens even more, how a tiny pink tongue sweeps across her lips as she looks back into the jaws of damnation. It takes him a while to realize his angel must be wet, just from seeing how good he is with a knife. The notion doesn't only make his cock jolt; it throws him headfirst into the abyss.

You'll never get rid of me now, the demon growls before he can choke him silent.

Her wet eyes, her wet, promising lips belong in a realm of madness. She's not filthy; his angel could never be filthy. But she's seducing him, which means she might seduce other men too.

Has someone claimed her already…?

What if she has a lover? Do they make her legs shake, do they make her mew?

Who does he have to kill?

………………

He breaks into her room that night.

He only meant to stand watch and see if someone creeps to her in the cover of darkness. He thinks about different ways to kill her lover as he waits near her door. Should he just strangle them when they enter her room? Make her an offering, let her know she could have a far more powerful male if she wants?

No, he must use a knife... She will get wet if he uses a knife.

But no one appears: he is the only shadow in the dark hall, and after midnight, he decides to take a look at his innocent, sleeping angel. Just one look.

Her domain is full of softness, and he has to take a few deep breaths before he continues. Her world is so different from his that he nearly turns back and closes the door to paradise. But then her breathing calls to him, causing him to take a few steps. She sleeps with her window open, likes to listen to the sound of night birds before she falls asleep – just like he does…

The demon is awake in an instant and grabs him by the throat.

No.

Don’t look. If you look, she will steal your soul.

He freezes before he reaches her bed. His gaze sweeps her room instead, and the demon pants at the sight. Her dresses are laid out on a clothing rack: they salute him like a row of colorful flowers. Flowing and singing like a river, they hit him with a breeze made of life and all things good.

She has a little armchair filled with cushions, and there's more softness and beauty everywhere he looks; he can see it even in the darkness of the night. Her delicate perfume that follows him as he follows her around the base lingers in the air and mixes with the distant birdsong and moonlight that shift the curtains in her room.

There's art on her walls, lively houseplants on the window sill, she has collected a cavalcade of cute little things on top of her drawer: nail polish and sea shells and beeswax candles and a piece of driftwood, a bottle of that perfume she uses, decorative lights above it all, placed around a small mirror.

He wants all of that.

He wants light and living things and greenery – he never had plants at home – he wants softness and cute little items, he wants to listen if the seashell still roars with the crashing waves were he to bring it to his ear. His mama always told him seashells remember the ocean because it used to be their home…

He wants her to light a honeyed candle and give him a bite of that apple, catch the juice as it runs down his scarred chin, or better yet, kiss it away before it falls. He wants to taste what's between her thighs. She must taste like honey and heaven.

One of the drawers is open, and from it, a torrent of cute little underthings is spilling out; they almost cascade on the floor. In different colors, too, and his hand reaches out and takes one before he can even think. He steals it like it's candy, then turns around with a stiff back and shoulders heavy from the sin he just committed.

He's about to go to the door, but her soft breathing calls him back. He tries to calm the demon - the girl can't steal anything: there's nothing left to steal. He has no soul, so he doesn't have to fear her either.

Taking a few steps, he takes the peek he shouldn't take because it will only prolong his sentence in purgatory. Little does the demon know that he would suffer eternally for one little glimpse…

She's not cocooned inside her blanket as he thought she would be. He thought he would find her coiled into a fetal position, curled into safety, but instead, she's sleeping on her back, arms spread next to her face, looking like she just fell from heaven and is feeling a little dizzy from the fall. She's calm and innocent as the moonlight brushes her cheek, her face free from all worry.

Why is she so cute, why is she so sweet?

She has no right. She should be up in heaven.

He almost crawls on top of her right then and there, because blinding want is nothing compared to this. He wants to breathe her, breathe with her, hold her gently, and have her smile at him when she wakes up. He doesn't want to ruin her… He just wants a taste, see if an angel would like to have a demon worship her. If his worship would mean anything, if it had any power to persuade her to like him...

He would never kneel before anyone, but he would kneel before her. In spirit, he is on his knees, and the only thing that makes him suffer is the fear that she might not want him, a ruined temple haunted by old, hateful spirits.

The madness was right. Apparently, there was a soul to steal, a tiny broken mosaic piece left, for the angel has it now. She owns what's left of him, the haunted temple is hers if she would ever want to come visit. He would restrain all those monsters so that she can walk freely and explore all the things buried under the rubble.

Her underwear burns his palm like a flower on fire. He only then realizes that there are no actual flowers in her room. He wonders if she would give him a kiss if he were to bring her one. Or two. Or an entire bouquet…

The demon inside cuts him with a searing blade – stupid idiot – she doesn't want to kiss your mauled face or love your ghouls. There's no treasure hidden inside that filthy rubble, there's only shit and blood and festering vomit. Better to just take her right now, see how tight she is, how wide her eyes go when a proper man comes to assert his will and authority. The demon tells him to at least ruin that cute thing in his hand and throw it on the table. Imagine her shocked little face when she wakes up…

Tears brim, and the maw of hell laughs with a roar of raging fire. He forces both down with a swallow and a wrench that shuts his heart.

There's no way she would ever let a man like him inside her. He's a sickness; no, he's an entire plague. He could try to make love to her, and she would only cry and bleed to death.

The smooth place between her brows gains a wrinkle as if she can hear his thoughts but doesn't agree with them. A little whimper escapes her nose, her head nods on the pillow; it looks like an attempt to hide while you're tied and cannot move.

Pretty angel is having a nightmare, and it's no wonder. Of course she can sense she's being visited by a monster.

He turns to leave, and notices another colorful thing on the floor: her underwear, and not clean. She's slipped out of it before bed: his angel is naked under that blanket. His angel sleeps naked…

He wonders if she has touched herself before sleep. Not with feverish, stern hands, like he does, but softly, under that blanket, with her features melting into pleasure as she comes with sighs and a series of desperate little whimpers.

His blood turns to hellfire as he drops the underwear he's holding. It falls right next to the intoxicating thing he picks up instead. Taking a deep inhale, he can finally smell her. Not just her perfume, but her. She smells of an angel and a woman, raw, perfect woman, and he knows he's lost. This is worse than any dream or demon; this is worse than anything ever before. There's no going back now.

Her scent calls to him, those hands frame her face in a gesture of surrender. She smiled at him on that day under the sun, and she smiled at him today.

What if he's spent enough time in hell? What if it's possible to have a taste of heaven?

He can't help but wonder if his angel wants this too...

“Engel,” he whispers into the night.

It takes only a second before she whimpers again. It's an answer, it's a yes, and his heart is full of tiny needles; they pinch him with terrible love and hope. The wrinkle has smoothed out, and his angel is smiling very, very softly.

She's calling for him. How could he refuse?

His angel is full of light as he makes his decision. He whispers his apology, only in his mind and only in German, trusting that angels must know every language in the world. He asks for her forgiveness for all the things he's about to do to her. Then he promises he will come for her, that she doesn't need to worry: she has a guardian now and always will. She will be forever safe with him by her side. He will drive even her nightmares away.

Then he returns to his room so different from hers, returns to the realm of death and worships the thing he just stole, spraying it with hot, white love - the only thing inside him that can be called pure, the color of angels. It's only a matter of time before he gets to worship her in the flesh, unite with her, the soul who forgave his sins and slipped him the key to heaven.

#könig x reader #könig x you #könig fanfiction #yandere könig #soft yandere #male yandere #obsessive love #cw: stalking #cw: dark content

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poppitron360 · 1 month

Text

Even more incorrect quotes From this RANDOM INCORRECT QUOTES GENERATOR that I found!!

Hazel: Just be careful, Leo!

Leo: *heading out the door* I'm always careful, Hazel!

Leo: It's everything around me that's careless.

—_—_—_ —_—_—_ —_—_—_ —_—_—_

Annabeth: The first time I saw you, you stole my heart.

Piper: But I'm a kleptomaniac, so that doesn't mean anything.

—_—_—_ —_—_—_ —_—_—_ —_—_—_

Jason: I will find us a covered wagon and horses.

Jason: If you two can manage to not kill each other while I'm gone.

Piper: Oh, please. We're not children.

*Jason leaves*

Piper, casually: ...Eat shit and die.

Leo, also casually: Yes, fuck you.

—_—_—_ —_—_—_ —_—_—_ —_—_—_

Annabeth: Sorry I’m late, I was doing things.

Percy: Hi, I’m ‘things’.

—_—_—_ —_—_—_ —_—_—_ —_—_—_

Will: What are you in the mood for?

Nico: World domination.

Will: That's a bit ambitious.

Nico: You are my world.

Will: Aww...

Nico:

Will:

Nico:

Will: OH.

—_—_—_ —_—_—_ —_—_—_ —_—_—_

Percy, upon learning how Annabeth did a magic trick: So you’re not magic?

Annabeth: Well, not really.

Percy: You’re just a liar.

—_—_—_ —_—_—_ —_—_—_ —_—_—_

Piper and Leo: *speaking Spanish*

Piper: I know, I know.

Jason: You speak Spanish?

Piper: No. I just know the phrase, 'this is all your fault' in every language Leo speaks.

—_—_—_ —_—_—_ —_—_—_ —_—_—_

Annabeth: N... No!

Percy: A fair rebuttal. However, consider this counterpoint: Y... Yes???

—_—_—_ —_—_—_ —_—_—_ —_—_—_

Leo, talking about Jason: WHAT THE FUCK I WAS ARGUING WITH THEM AND I SAID “OOH YOU WANNA KISS ME SO BAD” AND GUESS WHAT? THEY DID. THEY KISSED ME. WHAT THE FUCK WHAT DO I DO.

—_—_—_ —_—_—_ —_—_—_ —_—_—_

Percy : I’m the sexiest bitch in this therapy waiting room.

—_—_—_ —_—_—_ —_—_—_ —_—_—_

Annabeth: Plants are basically the ideal friends. They are quiet, friendly, and easy to please. All they need is a little water and fresh earth, and they are perfectly happy to lie there all day in the sun. And they don’t make increasingly awful life choices, or hide their relationships. They have never, as far as I know, fucked a bee.

—_—_—_ —_—_—_ —_—_—_ —_—_—_

Will: Can you keep a secret?

Nico: Do you know anything about my life?

Will: No, I don't. Good point.

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lovelybarnes · 1 year

Text

Flustered 2- B. Barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, natasha romanoff, sam wilson, wanda maximoff warnings: flustered!reader, bucky teasing her. I haven’t written for him in so long i hope htis doesn’t suck about: flustered part 2!! requested

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You say it very matter-of-fact, yourself nearly believable. Metal bumps against plastic, narrowed eyes trained on collecting the last of your yogurt.

“Oh, no idea, huh?” Natasha accuses, crossing her arms against her chest. “You’re a liar.”

You scoff, glancing at her for credibility. “I’m not lying.”

Sam frowns, leaning in close to your face. You stare right back at him over your yogurt cup, bewildered.

“I can’t tell,” he says, disbelieving. He turns to Natashs. “Are we sure she knows?”

“She is right here,” you snap. “And she thinks you both are insane.”

“His effect on you should be studied at universities,” Wanda quips.

“What effect?” you cry, letting what’s left of your breakfast clatter to the table.

“Come on,” Sam starts, observing you closely with a hopeful smile beaming although obscured. “You know you turn into a dopey idiot when RoboCop comes around, right?”

“Don’t call him that,” you mutter, a little quieter. “And I do not. We’re grown-ups, Sam. Who are together. In an adult relationship.”

“‘M not saying you’re not,” Sam shrugs. “I just…” He squints. “I need to hear you say it. You can’t seriously not see it, I’m concerned.”

“I don’t need your concern,” you argue. “And I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“You’re a competent person,” Sam starts.

“Thank you,” you deadpan.

“Normally. And then… Bucky, like, smiles at you, and you get all… gooey.”

Your brows pull together. “What does that mean?”

Immediately, all of your friends fall into an array of “gooey.” Natasha stares up at the ceiling with doe eyes while Sam fans himself, falling over the counter. Even Wanda has cradled her chin in her palm.

“You guys are awful,” you declare.

“I should film your interactions,” Sam says in turn. “Are we awful… or are we accurate?”

“You’re awful,” you respond promptly. “And I genuinely can’t see where you’re getting this from because--”

“Hello.” Bucky.

The show begins.

He catches your eye and smiles, eyes crinkling in a promise that it’s genuine.

Your reaction is immediate, features melting like butter in the sun at his appearance. “Hi.” You straighten and blink fast, clearing your throat. “Hi. Hello, Bucky.”

He raises an eyebrow and says hello again, curved in amusement. When he says your name, it’s devastating.

The others can see it happen, the moment your resolve begin to crumble in unsteady hands and trickle into Bucky’s. He sidles up next to you, familiar, wonderful heat kissing a bare stripe of your skin. Pathetically, you freeze up. It’s only for a moment because it’s him, because you’re overwhelmed, because your ribcage feels like it’s closing in around your heart, a shocking heat at the bottom of your stomach, but the team notices anyway, sharing a distinct look you can sense.

You turn to him, that line of itchy warmth crawling up your nose and into your eyes. He’s very pretty up close, eyes a green below ocean and smile a notch above cocky.

“You look nice,” he says casually, brushing his lips right below your eye.

“Thank you,” you breathe. He’s done this so many times, and not once has it dimmed your reaction. He looks at you like he’s proud of the fact and squeezes your hip. You feel as though he wants to kill you. “You.. you too.”

Unexpectedly, he dips down int the dip between your shoulder and your neck, his chin grazing your necklace. “Why’s everyone staring at us?”

You’re a little dizzy. With him, it’s like your surroundings are heightened and gone all at the same time, like it’s just you and him and the lovely sparks beneath your skin. You shrug. “They’re perverts.”

Bucky laughs. “‘Course. I already knew that. Don’t know why I asked.” He steps away from you in favor of the coffeemaker, but you’re stuck in the few seconds before, reminiscing on the heat of his skin sticky on your collarbone. Like a sweet, awful honey.

Natasha raises an eyebrow at you, you frown; you just get so caught up in his eyes.

“C’mon.” Bucky’s hand wraps around your wrist, tugging you from the kitchen and away from prying eyes. He has a mug in his fingers. One of yours, with a grinning Garfield dragging something along a faded white background.

“Do you know,” you start finally, standing close to him in the elevator, “that our friends think I act weird around you?”

“How so?”

“Gooey. That I go gooey around you.”

“Gooey?” he repeats thoughtfully, a canine concaving his bottom lip. “You? No.”

“That’s what I said.”

“Good,” he says. “‘Cuz that’s ridiculous,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss you. As if expecting something, a hand goes to support the dip of your back quickly.

“Yeah,” you mutter indignantly, leaning into him. “Yeah…”

It’s love, you think. Prickly, overwhelming love that makes you want to hold his face in your hands and kiss him till you can’t breathe, and the cost of the image is the cost of the action when it comes to him.

He hums against your lips, grinning at you when you pull away. “You do this on purpose,” you accuse, its bite harmless with your breathlessness.

His pupils bounce between your features, his shoulders jumping with a shrug. “Dunno what you’re talking about.” He kisses you again, that same heat that stifles you crawling up his neck.

“Liar,” you croak.

Maybe, he thinks.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes ff #bucky barnes fanfiction fluff #bucky barnes fanfic fluff #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluffy fanfic #bucky barnes fluff fic #bucky barnes fluffy imagine #bucky barnes fluff imagine #bucky barnes fluff

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anonymous-dentist · 11 months

Text

Based off of @fagdykeroier’s dragon au:

When Cellbit was a hatchling, he remembers telling Bad, “I’m gonna kidnap a princess when I get out of here.”

Bad had rumbled and lightly bapped him with his wing. “Don’t be ridiculous. Dragons don’t kidnap princesses. We eat them.”

He had bared his fangs, then- still dripping with the acidic blood of the loser of his most recent fight- and, well. He had a point. Dragons don’t kidnap people. They eat them. They eat them because they’re monsters, and they need to be dealt with accordingly.

It’s been a decade since then, and now Cellbit is protecting a prince from the dragon that’s been kidnapping him biweekly for the past five years of his life.

Cellbit is also kissing the prince. And he feels awful about it.

Roier is a nice guy. He’s better than nice, actually. He’s beautiful. His smile could make an angel weep, and his eyes? They’re warm enough to make Cellbit’s fireproof bones turn to jelly. He’s funny and he’s smart, and he’s the nicest person Cellbit has ever met.

He’s also a prince. And dragons don’t kidnap princes. They don’t kiss them, either.

Dragons eat people. Because they’re monsters, and they need to be dealt with accordingly.

Cellbit forces himself to push Roier away, fists loosely curling in the soft silk of Roier’s shirt.

“What?” Roier asks. He’s frowning, and he’s somehow still handsome doing it. “What’s wrong, gatinho?”

Cellbit tears his eyes away from the prince’s and chooses to instead look out over the horizon. The sun is setting, and it almost makes Roier’s honeyed brown eyes burn as red as the flames burning in Cellbit’s chest.

He drops his hands, and he takes one step back. And then another, head dropping and hands shaking.

“…Cellbit?”

“I can’t do this,” Cellbit hears himself say. (Which is a fucking lie, but what else is new? He’s been lying to Roier the entire time he’s known him.) “You…”

The world is… distant. And warm. It’s so warm. Fuck, he needs to concentrate or-

Everything bolts back into clarity as Roier takes his hands and squeezes them.

“Hey,” he softy says, “it’s fine. Okay? If you don’t want to-”

Cellbit’s head snaps up. He meets Roier’s gaze and only halfway flinches as how caring it is.

“I want to!” he interrupts. “But- but I’ve been lying to you, guapito. Roier. You deserve better.”

Roier’s eyebrows furrow, but he doesn’t look angry. For some reason. Even though he hates liars- he hates liars! Cellbit deserves to be thrown off the balcony they’re standing on…

“Okay…” Roier slowly nods. “Tell me.”

“What? I lied.”

“Yeees, so tell me what you did. Then I’ll be angry. Maybe. Who knows?”

He smiles, then, and it’s as brilliant as the sun.

Cellbit wants. He’s never been the type of dragon to hoard, he was trained out of it before it could become a problem, but he kind of wants to put Roier in a cave somewhere and curl around him and never let him go.

But.

Of course Roier is going to be angry. Dragons are monsters. They’re nearly extinct for a reason. And he’s been regularly kidnapped by one for the past however many years of his life, of course he’s going to be angry when Cellbit tells him.

But.

Cellbit swore to Roier on his first night on duty as Roier’s personal guard that he would never lie to him. It’s been almost a year since then, and not once has Cellbit broken his promise… outside of this.

So he sighs and hangs his head and squeezes Roier’s hands once before letting go and moving to lean against the balcony with his face in the sun. It’s warm, but in a good way. The incoming night breeze is chilly, but in a better way. Maybe Cellbit doesn’t deserve the warmth.

“I haven’t been totally honest about who… or, rather, what I am,” he explains, slowly as he figures out the words. “Your fathers hired me to protect you from the dragon-”

“Melissa.”

Cellbit can’t help but smile. “Right, Melissa. But they don’t know that the reason why I know so much about dragons is…”

He sucks in a breath and lets it out slowly; it comes out as smoke, tinted green by his flames.

“…because I am one.”

Silence. Expected, really.

Cellbit’s eyes slip shut, and he waits for the inevitable outburst. Maybe he’ll get lucky and Roier will end him from behind so he doesn’t have to see the hatred in his eyes.

But then Roier speaks, quietly: “How long have you been my guard?”

The answer is immediate: “Nine months and two weeks.”

“And how many days have you had off?”

For vacation? “None. I had to protect you.”

Roier sucks in a deep breath. Oh, so he is angry, after all. (Of course he is.)

“Nine months and two weeks,” he says, voice raising in volume with every word until he’s shouting: “And you’ve been human this whole time!?”

Cellbit yelps as he’s forcefully spun around, and he’s expecting a dagger to the chest, but what he gets is… a hug. He’s pulled to Roier’s chest, and Roier hides his face in the side of Cellbit’s neck, and he squeezes him so tightly that Cellbit can’t breathe.

“Why didn’t you just say so, pendejo?” Roier asks. His lips brush against Cellbit’s skin and make him go weak in the knees.

That’s a stupid question.

Cellbit can’t bear to hug him back, but he can force himself to answer: “Because dragons literally eat people?”

(It’s not the real answer, but it’s what Cellbit can give without giving himself a panic attack.)

Roier pulls his head back and gives Cellbit an unreadable look.

“You,” he declares, “are coming with me.”

And, with that, he breaks the hug and proceeds to drag Cellbit by the hand off of the balcony and through the castle towards the stables.

So he’s going to kill Cellbit elsewhere. So be it. He deserves nothing less.

First kiss ruined…

The secondary location, for whatever reason, is the cave Cellbit first met Roier at on that first rescue mission. He’s only been back since a handful of times to rescue Roier from the dragon, Melissa, but it’s familiar enough to make him pause in the cave’s mouth.

“It’ll be easier to clean the blood up outside,” he helpfully says.

Roier groans, “How many times do I need to tell you I’m not going to kill you? Come on.”

Grumbling, he pulls Cellbit deeper inside the cave, still holding his hand as tight as he was holding it back at the castle. They even shared a horse to get to the cave so they could keep holding hands in some way; the horse is tied up outside by a fence post Cellbit had installed after his second rescue mission for convenience.

Cellbit never got a proper cave growing up. Admittedly, he doesn’t remember most of his hatchling years, but the years he does remember were all spent in a too-small cage miles underground surrounded by the rotting corpses of the dragons he’d killed.

He used to dream of having a cave. He wanted enough room to spread his wings for once, just like how Bad said he would spread his wings back when he was free.

Now, he knows better. What’s the point of the entire world being open to him if spreading his wings would get him thrown back into the ring?

Roier leads Cellbit past his usual “kidnapping bedroom” and through a large-ish crack in the cave wall. On the other side is an enormous cavern with fire-scorched walls and mounds of gold and silver and silks and satins piled into the center of the room like a nest.

Cellbit’s hand falls from Roier’s grip. He stares at the gold hungrily.

And then he screeches and covers his eyes and turns away as Roier pulls his shirt over his head and starts stripping.

“Roier!” Cellbit protests. “I’m- I’m really not into this kind of stuff, if that’s what you’re getting at!”

“Qué?” Roier laughs. “Relax, Cellbit, it’s fine!”

Oh, gods, maybe Roier didn’t drag Cellbit all the way into the mountains to kill him. Maybe he’s one of those weird humans into dragons. And Cellbit can’t judge exactly because he is a dragon and so he gets the appeal, but-

His ears prick up at the sound of crackling fire and the sudden rush of wind from the center of the cavern, a familiar magical sensation gently pushing against him as his own magic tries to push back in a similar way. He grits his teeth and forces his claws back to blunt human nails. Not now.

Hesitantly, he lowers his hands from his eyes, and he looks up at the dragon standing where the prince just was. Melissa.

Or, well.

Cellbit’s arms fall to his sides and he, frankly, stares.

The dragon has eyes the same red as the color Roier’s turn in the sun. Black and red scales meshed together like the end of a sunset.

“Guapito…” Cellbit whispers. He tries to go louder, but he can’t, so he says no more.

He stumbles forward, one hand instinctively outstretched.

Roier smiles and flops onto the ground, shaking it. He bows his head, purring as Cellbit places his hand on his snout and lightly strokes it.

Of course, Cellbit thinks. His first theory from all the way when he first rescued Roier is true. He’s a dragon, and he’s been kidnapping himself, the absolute freak.

Roier huffs out a puff of smoke right into Cellbit’s face as if saying, “What were you thinking about all dragons being irredeemable monsters, hmm?”

(Cellbit doesn’t need to be able to hear him speak to know what he’s saying, of course he doesn’t.)

Cellbit breathes the smoke in like it’s clean air; weirdly enough, it tastes a little like Cellbit’s own.

Cellbit’s forehead presses against his prince’s snout, and he sadly smiles. He’s going to need to protect Roier from much worse than a dragon, now.

“You’re very handsome,” he says.

Roier nudges him annoyedly. “Of course I am.”

“If you want to…” Cellbit lets out a breath and stands up, adjusts his cloak and the sword hanging from his belt. “If you would like to rest, I can go stand guard.”

Roier’s eyes narrow. “Excuse me?”

Cellbit takes one step back.

“It takes a lot of energy to change forms,” he says. Another step. “You need the rest.”

A third step, and then he’s turning on his heel and running for the exit because he knows what Roier wants him to do, and-

Roier roars and snaps at him, grabbing Cellbit by the back of his hood with his teeth and dragging him back into the center of the room.

Cellbit thrashes briefly, but he gives up as he’s dropped back at Roier’s feet.

“I’m not shifting,” he firmly tells him. “Someone needs to keep you safe.”

Roier rolls his eyes. “Shut up. You need to, and I can protect you, too, pendejo.”

He nudges Cellbit with his nose to the side towards the center of the nest. Cellbit protests, skittering and slipping on the gold coins and the soft fabrics. But Roier catches him with his teeth and sets him back upright.

A warm breath tickles Cellbit’s back, and it takes all of Cellbit’s strength to keep him from shifting right then and there.

He’s so tired.

But he tries one last time: “But I-”

But he’s interrupted by a gentle rumble and a flick of a cold forked tongue against the back of his head. “Rest. You can protect me tomorrow.”

But Cellbit won’t wake up tomorrow. He’ll be out for a week straight at least. He has duties to complete. He’s supposed to go grocery shopping this week, it’s his turn.

He sighs, anyway and shuffles out of the nest to deposit his clothes somewhere where they won’t get too charred by all the flames about to appear.

“Close your eyes,” he says over his shoulder. He’s blushing as he unties his cloak and casts it to the floor, and then he’s blushing harder as he pulls his outer shirt off and dumps it on top of the cloak. “We didn’t even finish our first kiss. Save the peeking until after we’re married.”

Roier’s eyes light up at the mention of a marriage, but he still turns his head away and makes a show of covering his eyes with his front feet. Cute.

Cellbit sucks in a deep breath and looks down at the floor. Okay. It’s just. The first time in eight years. Just that. First time willingly doing it in front of someone. Just that.

He lets the breath out, and green flames come out with it.

Undressed, Cellbit steps away from his clothes and closes his eyes, and he lets his own fire eat him up as he transforms. And it hurts, okay? It burns, and not in the good way. But-

A concerned noise from the nest as Cellbit lets out a pained grunt of a growl.

-but Roier is waiting, and Cellbit just wants to sleep.

Fully shifted for the first time in almost a decade, Cellbit doesn’t realize how scrawny he really is until he’s sleepily staggered up to Roier’s side and collapsed into the nest with an exhausted whine. He fits perfectly under Roier’s wing. He needs to eat more, Forever’s been saying as much for years. Now, Cellbit gets why.

A nose brushes the space between Cellbit’s horns like a kiss. “Sleep well, gatinho.”

Cellbit’s eyes slip shut, and, pressed against the man he thinks he could spend the rest of his life with, he finally, finally falls asleep.

#a.d.'s fics i suppose #a.d.'s fics i suppose.#I didn’t mean for it to be this long lol

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moutainrusing · 3 months

Text

monsters

828 words, @wolfstarmicrofic

There were monsters under Remus’s bed.

Actually, there was only one monster.

It was him.

It was really confusing. Werewolves were only supposed to transform on full moons, so why the hell did he suddenly have claws and fangs in the middle of the day when the sun was shining in the noon sky?

He’d felt them coming up like vomit in his throat, awful and sickly, just as he was walking to the Great Hall for lunch, and he’d turned right back, ran to the dormitory, and flung himself under his bed. Then he’d flicked the door and the curtains shut with his wand, and locked himself up for the unforeseeable future, because his monster things were not disappearing.

He shook slightly, nerves twisting around his gut as his anxiety levels broke the roof. He curled into himself, then winced, because that was not a good idea. He pulled his claws away, letting them dangle loosely by his sides.

He decided to run through the catalogue in his mind to try solve the problem. Firstly, when was the next full moon? Two days, so pretty close. This could be a side-effect. Great. He’d just wait it out.

Or maybe not. Someone was pounding on the door.

“Why’s this locked? Who’s in there? Prongs? Moony? Wormtail?! Open the bloody door!” Sirius kicked the door then yelped. Remus snorted. Weakling.

Sirius resumed knocking with his fists. “I’ve deduced you’re Moony!” He yelled.

Remus raised a brow. How was Sirius so sure?

“Only Moons is the type to hide away and not answer!”

Remus was offended.

“Moonbitch, open the bloody door! I need to grab the map! I still haven’t gone to lunch! Wait, have you gone to lunch? Moony, you need to eat! Also, why’ve you locked yourself in?!”

“Sirius, shut up,” Remus groaned, rolling stiffly out from his hiding spot in a hiding spot to carefully nudge the map off his bedside table. It fluttered to the floor, and he grunted while trying to open it with his stupid claws.

“Moony!” Sirius cried. “You’re alive! Now open the door so I can see you.”

Remus snorted. “What, you need confirmation that I’m really alive?”

“Obviously. And hello, are you gonna open the door or do I have to break it down? And why’ve you spelled it against unlocking charms? What are you doing in there?”

“You ask too many questions,” Remus responded, finally charming the map open as an array of names proceeded to overwhelm his mind. “Now, why’d you want the map? I can help you.”

“…You’re not gonna let me in?”

“No, I’ll tell you what you want,” Remus got up and walked to the door.

Sirius drummed his fingers against the door. “You’re weird,” he said finally. “I need to add a new room to the map, so. Let me in.”

Remus narrowed his eyes. “There aren’t any undiscovered rooms.”

“Are too.”

“Nope. This map is my greatest accomplishment. It’s perfect.”

“I can make it more perfect.”

“Go eat.”

“Come with me.”

“Already eaten.”

“Liar. I can smell smoke.”

“Your sense of smell is fucked.”

Remus heard Sirius take a deep breath, and he rolled his eyes.

“I’ll have you know,” Sirius started pompously. “My sense of smell is highly developed. As a dog, I possess around three hundred million olfactory receptors in my nose—”

“Shut the fuck up, dog.”

“Let me in, wolf.”

Remus sighed, glancing down at his claws, poking his fangs with his tongue. “See, about that. I may be a partial wolf right now.”

“Wait, what?!”

Remus opened the door, and Sirius fell right through it, landing on the floor. He leapt up immediately, yelling, “Moony!” and moving to tackle Remus, which Remus side-stepped.

Sirius fell to the floor again. “Ow,” he grumbled. “What was that for?”

“Look up,” Remus held his claws above Sirius, who, to his credit, didn’t flinch. His eyes simply widened.

“Oh. That’s what you meant.”

Remus bared his teeth. “And this.”

“Shit. Can I…” Sirius got to his feet. He reached out for Remus’s claw and ran his fingers over the nails. “Hmm.” He then reached up and ran his fingers over Remus’s teeth. Remus swatted him away.

“What are you doing?!”

Sirius shrugged. “Maybe I can push them back in,” he grinned, before trying to do exactly that.

“Get off!”

“Okay, okay. So, what were you thinking when this happened?”

“What was I thinking? Oh, I dunno, probably that I’m a fucking werewolf and my life is shit because I’m a monster—”

Sirius narrowed his eyes. “That’s enough. Now, tell yourself that you’re not a monster.”

Remus snorted. “Okay. Nothing happened.”

Sirius whacked his head. “You gotta believe it, dickhead.”

Remus scowled. “I do believe it!”

“Really? Because, Moony, you’re not a monster.”

Remus was getting annoyed. “Okay, I’m not a monster!”

His fangs slid in, and his hands returned. He looked at them in shock.

Sirius laughed and grabbed one. “Off to lunch, champ.”

#remus lupin #sirius black #marauders #wolfstar #remus x sirius #microfiction #wolfstar microfic

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lunajay33 · 8 months

Text

New World🍂Part.3

Summary:You’ve made it to the cdc and a drunken night changes things between you and Daryl, but will it change your friendship for the better or worse?

Part.2

•Masterlist•

The CDC was our last resort and after screaming and beginning we got in and everything finally felt secure, Jenner showed us to the rooms and even said there was hot water

You threw your bag on the bed as Daryl was setting up the spare couch in the room

“What are you doing?” You asked confused

“Settin up the bed, I ain’ sleepin on the floor”

“And you’re not sleeping in the couch, after sharing a sleeping bag for weeks I think we can share a bed Daryl” you laughed

“Fine” he huffed as he threw himself on the bed, putting his arms behind his head

“Do you wanna take a shower first?”

“Nah go ahead imma look around this place, maybe find us somethin ta drink” he said

So you got some clothes and hopped in the shower and god did it feel good, to finally get all the builds up dirt and grime of your skin. You finished up quickly not wanting to hog all the water and saw Daryl back on the bed with a bottle of what looked like to be some kind of liquor

“Ya want some?” He asked after he took a gulp of it

Usually you’d decline but why not, you found somewhere and you needed a night of relaxation, so you jumped on the bed next to him and took the bottle

You tipped it back and the liquid burned going down

“Ugh that’s awful” you whined handing it back over

~~~~~~~~

Dinner came around so you both went down and enjoyed a fun night with the group, you could feel the alcohol kicking it and it helped you unwind

You could see Daryl was too, he was a definite chatter box when he got tipsy and you always thought it was cute, but I mean he was always kinda like that with you but seeing him open up around others was nice

“Drink up Glenn I wanna see how red yer face’ll get” he said making you laugh

As everyone slowly dispersed you took Daryl’s hand stopping him from his conversation with T.dog

“Wanna go to our room D?” You asked a little bit slurred

“Sure sunshine” he said taking your hand and leading you up to the room with the bottle still in his hand

He plopped down on the bed and put the bottle on the night stand as you stripped from you pants leaving you in one of Daryl’s night shirts and climbed in bed

You turned on your side as he did and you both just looked at each other

“Daryl why are you so beautiful?” You said making him laugh

“I think yer drunk peach” he said putting his hand on you hip

“I know I am, but that doesn’t make me a liar, you really are gorgeous, makes me wish I was one of those lucky ladies you’d hang out with back in school” you were too drunk your filter was gone

“Ya know I never did anything other than make out with them”

“Well they were lucky enough to get atleast some action from The Daryl Dixon” you could see the blush reach his ears and cheeks

“Are ya serious right now?” He asked as you put you hand through his hair

“Of course i think I’ve always had feelings for you, just think they’ve grown as we got older”

“Yer gonna regret all this tomorrow”

“No im not, im just hoping you won’t look at me any different, i still need you Daryl even if you don’t feel the same”

“Ya know why I never went further with any of em?”

��Whys that?” You mumbled

“Cuz they weren’ you”

You knew this was hard for him to say he wasn’t very vocal about his feelings

“I’m glad I decided to have lunch with you that day”

“I am to sunshine, lucky every day” he said as he pulled you closer and kissed the top of your head as you both feel asleep feeling the alcohol take over

~~~~~~~~~~~

You woke up to the sun shining in your eyes and a pounding headache, you sat up rubbing your eyes hoping this headache will go away soon, looking beside you when you heard a groan to see a tired Daryl

“How’re you feeling D?” You asked as he sat up beside you

“ ‘bout as good as I look”

“So amazing” you joked then remembering everything that happened last night

“Stop that” he groaned as he got up and put on his shoes

Maybe he didn’t remember everything, maybe that was a good thing last thing you’d want is for him to be awkward around you and distance himself

You both went down and thankfully breakfast was already made and you were desperate for food to heal this hangover

The day went on and all of a sudden the lights shut off, you ran downstairs to the room Jenner first showed you seeing everyone freaking out

Daryl came over with his chest heaving

“Daryl what’s going on” you asked placing your hand on his arm

“Place is gonna explode, runnin out of energy and the place is locked down”

“What? There has to be a way out, we’ve come so far we can’t die here” you said feeling the panic rise as your eyes started to water

He wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you back against his chest as you slide to the floor crying

“I’m scared D, I don’t wanna die”

“Shhh ya ain’ dyin today, imma get us outta here, imma try” he said squeezing me tight

He got up and took an axe slamming it against the door

After everything happened, the grenade helping you get you, Daryl took your arm dragging you quickly to his truck the building was gonna explode enough second

He pushed you down and covered you with his own body against the seat

The explosion boomed making your ears ring as Daryl sat you up trying to shake you out of your trance

“Hey can ya hear me?” He snapped his fingers in front of you

Your hearing slowly came back as you focused on him

“Daryl……I love you” the rush of a near death experience showed you, you couldn’t waste your precious time with Daryl anymore, he needed to know

He didn’t say anything he held my hand as we all drove away to our next location, your heart felt like it was gonna either, you knew he didn’t like this stuff but god at least I thought he’d say something, you’ve told him you’ve loved him before but in a light hearted way because he was your best friend, but you knew he knew this was different

But at least he knew now, you loved him that’s all he needed to know

—///—///—///—///—///—///—

Part.4<-

Guys I’m in my depression era, I feel like crap ever day but I hope you’re liking the story

Taglist: @deansapplepie @thebadbatch2022 @writer-ann-artist @ghostboneswrites

#daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon #twd daryl #twd fanfiction #twd x reader #twd fluff #twd rick #twd michonne #twd negan #daryl dixon fluff #daryl x you #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon smut #daryl imagines #maggie greene #glenn rhee #rick grimes x y/n

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enjoythesilentworld · 2 months

Text

Simon's Month - (Cat)Fish

day 19!! @youngroyals-events

Simon tries to convince a man on a dating app that, yes, that is his actual face in those pictures.

read below or on ao3 (T, 500)

You got a match!

Wille liked your photo!

Wille sent a message!

_____________________

Wille: If you’re gonna use fake pictures you might as well make them believable…

Simon: im sorry what?

W: I’m just saying, it’s pretty obvious you’re a catfish. Those pictures are not real.

S: um yes they are? that's literally my face

W: Nice try! No one actually looks like that. Way too perfect.

S: is this some kind of weird pickup line because im not sure you’re executing it properly

W: No? What do you mean? Clearly those are photoshopped or something. Who has skin that smooth looking? Or eyes that beautiful shade of brown?

S: literally i do

W: Seriously, where did you find these? Did you edit them yourself?

S: did you get dropped on your head as a child or something

W: … I mean, probably. But that doesn’t matter here. I know an edit when I see one.

S: clearly you dont because that is my face thank you for the compliment, i guess???

W: You’re welcome for complimenting your editing skills. But I still don’t believe you.

S: ok now im convinced this is some weird plot toget me to send like nudes or something

W: Oh my gosh, no! I’m not even on here for that! I’m too much of a romantic for hook-ups. We’d have to go on at least a few dates first. And I would only ever ask if I knew you wanted to. To send pictures. Naked ones. And only you felt safe doing so. But I think in person is better anyway.

S: okay…

W: Sorry if that was weird. I keep staring at the pictures and they’re making it hard for my brain to work.

S: hard huh?

W: Ha. Ha.

S: i guess that’s kinda sweet i’m not much into hook-ups either

W: Oh. That's cool. But, seriously, where did you find these pictures?

S: i remind you. that is me im starting to question your sanity Wille

W: Sure, Simon. You just walk around like that all day and somehow you’re still single and on a dating app. Sure, very believable, *catfish*!

S: omfg i do have pet fish but im not a catfish you're one to talk no ones hair is that color also there is no way u have a perfect little freckle on ur top lip or do you put that there with makeup

W: What?? Me?? No, it’s not makeup! I am just Swedish! I get freckles in the sun!

S: suuuure

W: Don’t turn this around on me, Simon. Except, wait, do you really have pet fish?

S: yes, i do

W: Can I see them?

S: [Image attached]

W: Beautiful! What are their names?

S: idk if i can trust you with their names you think i’m a liar

W: :( Simon

S: :( Wille

You can trust me. It’s justified, I think, that I don’t believe you.

S: [Image attached] literally me [Image attached] me with fish for proof i cant believe your awful rizz is working on me … Wille? here i’ll write out a little note for you so you know its actually me [Image attached]

W: ‘.,;-=p./ ?um I-m her e SOrry I was.. You are real?

S: lol i am real

W: When are you free?

S: huh?

W: I would like to take you on a date, Simon To apologize for calling you a catfish But also because you are funny and pretty, and I need to see you in person just to be totally sure that you’re actually real.

S: hm i guess i’d be okay with that i wanna know what that freckle on your lip tastes like

W: asdnasfwaogjfan

S: their names are oski, olle, and felle, btw are you free tonight?

#does this count as an smau #is that what the kids are calling it these days #this was very fun to write #not so fun to format #simonmonth2024 #yr fic #wilmon #simon eriksson #intothelight #yr fanfic #all our words were worth it

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natalievoncatte · 11 months

Text

Spookycorp

Kara’s heart was racing as she stepped out of the elevator. She *knew* something was wrong when Lena sent her a single, clipped text message:

Come now. Need to talk.

The elevator opened directly into Lena’s penthouse, into her elegant, minimalist foyer. The room was dark, as was the rest of the penthouse, except for the light of a single candle. Lena sat on the expansive sofa in her living room, a box resting on her lap. Kara didn’t need to use her x-ray vision to know that it was lined with lead. Her heart sank.

“Come in,” said Lena.

Kara walked inside, waiting at a respectful distance. Lena was beautiful in candlelight, her hair so dark it dark it could drink midnight under the table, eyes sparing like chips of emerald and sapphire, chipped with gold. The light caressed her sharp jawline and made her expression severe and smoldering at the same time.

Kara had fantasies like this. Most of them involved more candlelight and more pale skin.

“I know what you are,” said Lena.

Kara’s heart skipped. She fumbled with her hands.

“You can drop the aw shucks, I’m a farm girl from Vaguely Canada routine, Supergirl.”

Kara’s heart dropped through her stomach.

“I can explain,” she began. “If you give me a chance. Lena, please, I’m your best friend.”

Lena’s eyes hardened. Very softly she said, “am I?”

“How did you find out?”

Lena reached over to her side table, swirled a glass of wine, and took a sip.

“Lex told me. After I killed him. For you.”

Kara swallowed, and took a step forward. “Oh my God. Lena, what happened? What did he do?”

“Stop,” said Lena. “No closer.”

Kara stopped, her chest tightening, tears starting to well in her eyes.

Lena looked down, then up.

“He was going to kill you, and I couldn’t let that happen, because I thought I was in love with you. Before I knew what you are.”

The words hit Kara harder than anything she’d felt before, punching through her heart like the Kryptonite stake that was probably resting in that box. No, it wasn’t possible. She’s been so careful, Kal has been so careful.

“Lex had proof, but I didn’t trust it. I had to find corroboration. That’s why I talked you into taking me to the Fortress, so I could download the records I needed and examine them.”

Kara swallowed. “I would have given you what you wanted if you’d asked.”

“No, you wouldn’t, because you cover your tracks. You tell everyone that your powers come from the sun, but you’re lying.”

Kara wrung her hands, looking out at the moon. It hung full, heavy and huge in the National City sky.

“Not exactly. We have our powers here because Sol affects us differently. It doesn’t…”

“It doesn’t destroy Kryptonian vampires like you and your cousin,” Lena finished. “It doesn’t weaken your powers in sunlight or burn your skin, so you have nothing to fear here but Kryptonite.”

Kara licked her lips, feeling her fangs aching in her gums as they often did when Lena Luthor was in the room.

“Have you ever fed on me? I know about the other powers, Kara. The ones you and your cousin haven’t told everyone one about. Like modifying memories.”

Kara started. “What? No. I don’t feed directly on humans. When I was younger, my human family took turns giving me a unit of whole blood a month. That’s all I need. We don’t need as much on Earth. I’ve never bitten anyone on Earth. Kal-El trained me not to when I arrived here. Lena, I promise, I’m not some kind of predator.”

Kara edged closer, and Lena put her hand on the box. Kara froze.

“Liar.”

“Lena, please.”

“Your cousin has been feeding on Lois Lane for years. Lex had proof. Very thorough proof. He’s not as slick as he thinks, your Clark.”

Kara looked down.

“It was her choice. It’s tradition for my people. When one of us falls in love, we…”

“What, start seeing your ‘lover’ as a glorified bag of cheeze-its?”

Kara shifted on her feet. “No, we turn them. Clark is going to turn her after they marry. She’ll be like us.”

Lena’s gaze bored into her.

“I had to know, and now I do.”

“Lena, I would never hurt you, or feed on you against your will. I never feed on anyone against their will.”

“You’re lying.”

“Lena.”

“Lex had proof of that, too,” said Lena. “You do feed. On criminals, on people you think won’t be missed, and on James.”

“James was willing,” said Kara. “The others… it hurts, Lena. Clark’s path is hard. Too hard. I’m not perfect. You can’t imagine what the thirst is like. It’s like a hot railroad spike in my gut. I need it.”

“I thought about this for a long time,” said Lena. “I had to look you in the eye and hear it from you. I didn’t know what to do. You feed on people’s blood, but the city… the world needs Supergirl. So what do I do?”

“You don’t have to do anything,” said Kara. “I can just go, or… I don’t want to go, Lena. I know you’re upset, I know you’re mad, but you asked me here for a reason. I know you want to give me a chance. What we have, our friendship, it’s bigger than this. It can survive this. I want it to.”

Lena sighed. “Kara, I killed my brother for you, in cold blood.”

Kara swallowed. “I know. I know you loved him. I’m so sorry. I wish I could have helped you somehow. Maybe if I’d told you my identity earlier, we could have saved him.”

Lena opened the box.

Kara jolted back, expecting sickly pustulant light to sear the flesh from her bones, but there was no Kryptonite in the box.

Instead there was a pair of silvery bracelets, resting on black velvet.

“I had to make sure you couldn’t see inside,” said Lena. “No peeking.”

Kara swallowed, hard. “Those are binding bracelets. Do you know what those are for?”

Lena nodded slowly.

“You can come closer now. Sit.”

Kara stepped around the coffee table and sat primly near Lena, at a respectful distance, hands folded in her lap.

Lena leaned back against the arm rest and pulled her inky black hair back from her neck, tilting her chin back. Offering.

Kara could smell her, the scent exploding in her nostrils. She could feel Lena’s pulse and her own began to throb in time with it, the aching in her gums exceeded by the pleasant ache between her legs.

“What are you doing?” Kara murmured.

“Offering.”

“Why?”

Lena reached out and caressed her bare foot along Kara’s calf. Kara couldn’t help it. Her fangs popped out against her will for the first time in ages.

“Does it feel good for Lois? When he feeds on her?”

“So I’m told. Our fangs secret a mild neurotoxin that has some pleasant effects.”

“How long have you been thinking about tasting me?”

Kara shuddered. “It’s not like that. You’re my best friend.”

Lena rolled her eyes. “You know, I used to think you were just oblivious, or very, very closeted. Now I get it.”

“Lena,” Kara said, more urgently.

Lena’s foot slid higher up Kara’s leg. “It must be hard holding back all that hunger. Surrounded by food you can never taste. Is that why you’re always stuffing yourself with potstickers? You’d rather be eating me?”

Kara swallowed, hard.

“Maybe. Yes.”

“I’m right here.”

“I won’t. Not unless you say it, Lena. Not unless you offer it. Explicitly.”

“Kara, do it. Take me.”

Kara lunged across the sofa, pulling Lena to her so she lay flat on the cushions, and drove her fangs into Lena’s throat as she ground her thigh between Lena’s legs. She knew what Lena planned and she didn’t care.

Lena yelped in pain from the puncture wounds, but her cry quickly melted into a pleasurable moan as she writhed beneath Kara, driving her nails into Kara’s back.

Kara drank slowly, gently, taking only a trickle and feeling Lena’s pulse in her throat. She’d wanted this for so long, she started to weep from the sheer release of it, tears streaming down her cheeks. Lena’s blood sang with magic, the taste of her more intense than the most exotic spices, more flavorful than the sweetest wine. It was better than sex, although now that she had Lena’s blood on her tongue, she was hoping that was on the menu, too.

She heard the click and felt the cold metal close around her wrist and sighed.

“So that’s your solution,” Kara whispered.

“Lex couldn’t make it work,” said Lena. “I always loved how much it pissed him off that his bastard sister has magic and he doesn’t.”

Lena closed the other bonding bracelet around her own wrist, and Kara instantly felt the weight of the connection, the power in it, and knew she was helpless. She didn’t care.

“Kneel,” said Lena.

Kara slid off of Lena and onto her knees, head bowed.

“There,” said Lena. “Now I know. I know the world gets to keep Supergirl and I know you’re not a threat.”

“I knew what you were going to do,” said Kara. “I let you. If this is what you need to trust me, I’m okay with it.”

Lena took Kara’s chin in her fingers and tilted her head up, leaning forward to meet her gaze.

“I could do whatever I want with you now. With a Kryptonian vampire under my control, I could rule the world.”

“You could,” Kara whispered. “You can make me do it whatever you please. You never needed magic for that. I would do it willingly.”

“I know,” said Lena, “but this is going to be a lot of fun.”

“I was a little worried you’d tell me never to see you again,” said Kara. “Or you’d demand I turn you.”

Lena laughed. “Darling, do you have any idea how much power I’d have to give up to become a vampire?”

Lena ran a hand down Kara’s arm, squeezing her bicep.

“Now, carry me to the bedroom and let’s see what you can do.”

Kara didn’t need to be ordered to do that.

#supercorp #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl #supercorp fanfic #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara x lena #karlena #supergirl fanfic #ficlet #supercorptober2023 #borderline smut #kryptonians are vampires #lena is a witch #magic kink #kinky magic #kinkycorp #supercorptober

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cthulhusstepmom · 1 year

Text

It's dark in the cellar, has been since they were tossed down here however many days ago. Hard to tell time without regular meals. Completely windowless, there's no place to spend his usual half hour basking under the sun. It had been a matter of hours before his coldblooded body had started to slow in the cool subterranean temperatures. He'd tried to keep it to himself, deal with it quietly, but there's no way to hide it from Gid, steadfast loyal Gid. Kremy had found his sluggish form gathered unceremoniously close to the living furnace that is his right hand man.

The heat may have stabilized his body temperature but it would do nothing to improve his mood(well maybe just a little bit it's hard to be too miserable when you're so nice and warm no matter the dire circumstances). Gideon took care of light well enough too, illuminating a circle around them with dancing warm firelight, though that was extinguished as soon as Kremy saw it start to waver and flicker, can't allow his partner in crime to burn himself out now can he? And so they sit in an almost peaceful silence, have done for who knows how long.

"Y'know it's not the worst bind we've gotten ourselves into. The gang will be along soon enough to bust down the door." Gid pauses in thought. "Probably not Twigsy. Or Frosty. Or Gricko unless he's a beasty. Probably down to Torbek to do the door busting come to think of it."

Kremy grunts noncommittally.

"Ah don't be like that, can't be worse than the time we had to climb out of the window of that inn."

"The snake oil heist on the western bank?"

"Nah the one with the innkeepers daughter, Felicity? Franny?"

He remembers that particular scrap well, if only because of the god awful wig.

"Felicia. How that veil covered my snout I will never rightly know."

Gideon snorts.

"Oh yeah. Sure would've been nice to know Gricko was an ordained minister before hand but it's not the first time we've been married."

Kremy hums. "Can't say it's the worst contract I've signed."

The warm body next to him rolls with deep, hearty laughter. The room goes silent for another spell before Kremy sighs.

"I dunno Gid, you ever get the feeling that we've taken it too far? Finally poked the bear that's gonna rip our throats out?"

"Nah man, I know you'll get us out of anything 'fore it gets too serious. Even if we end up knee deep in Fae tomfoolery. And I'll punch any bear that tries to bite us square in the body till it dies, no problemo." He pauses. "I trust you Kremy Lecroux."

That knocks the speech right off of his tongue.

Trust.

On a conceptual level he got that there was some form of reliance between the two of them, and sure some trust if you had to put a non-ironic label on it. He knows that Gideon cares for him, has stated it on many occasions in many different ways. And if you had to be so crass as to put it into words, of course he cares for Gid too, wouldn't have bothered keeping him around this long if he hadn't(lord knows the food bill would be enough to sway his opinion if he wasn't entirely too attached by now).

But trust?

Trusting Kremy Lecroux is a bad idea on any number of levels. He's a cheat by profession and a liar by lifestyle. Hell he's sold the souls of those around him in exchange for power more than once. There's nothing worth trusting in him, he's a coldblooded criminal and he's never gonna change, not for anybody. And here Gid is announcing it with his full chest. It's one of those things that's so endearing about him, he never holds back; Gideon Coal has never made a promise he doesn't fully mean. But since he's a man of contracts and business dealings he at least wants to give him a fair shot, a head start, a warning to keep that fiery heart close.

"You sure about that Gid? Those kinds of words have a power to em you know that."

"100% man, I'll follow you to the end of the world."

Kremy struggles to get air into his lungs, it takes a minute, two. When he finally gets enough to speak, it's frustrated and tinged with melancholy.

"Well I'll gladly let you do just that, if we ever get out of this fucking place."

"Hey." Kremy offers no response. "C'mon man don't be that way, the crew are all out there figuring their way in as we speak, fact I can smell the Torbek already."

He says nothing.

"I know what'll cheer you up."

A large, warm hand cups the bottom of his snout, gently directing his face up and to the side. Before he can think to protest, his eyes are drawn to the sudden lick of flame dancing on the tip of Gideon's finger. Not unlike when he lights cigarettes for him, except now he's pressing the pad of the digit to a small twig from the rocky floor until it smolders dully. Blowing on it, Gideon brings the small stick towards his face. It's warm but not uncomfortably so (he'd never had a doubt in his mind that Gid would hurt him). Carefully, precisely, with hands steady from working on the delicate innards of machines he can't begin to comprehend, Gideon draws the ashen tip of the stick across his upper lip in two swooping lines.

"There you already look more like yourself!" He proclaims proudly.

And god if he can't help the smile that breaks across his face.

"You're a crazy son of a bitch Gideon Coal, you know that?"

"Been told once or twice." he chuckles.

#“Gid when we walk outta here I need you to go first.” “Why?” “Cause you're my light at the end of the tunnel. Always will be.”#Once Upon a Witchlight amiright?#god im obsessed its bad #theres not NEARLY enough fan content for this and it is is a CRIME #to any of my followers or mutuals: if you like banter if you like funnies if you like gay subtext if you like found family #i am BEGGING you to check out once upon a witchlight and gush with me #its done by Legends of Avantris on youtube and twitch #moustache moment in ep.26 my beloved #once upon a witchlight #kremy lecroux #gideon coal #coalecroux #legends of avantris

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knifedancer · 1 year

Text

Not Dating

Day by day, one by one, Marinette’s classmates noticed that the young designer had gotten closer to Felix. Close enough to be considered dating. Finally, the entire class is convinced that the two ARE dating.

The only problem is that Felix nor Marinette seem to know about it.

Felix (PV) x Marinette, posted to AO3.

~~~~~~~

~~~SCENE 1: Lila~~~

Lila was walking down a shopping district when she caught sight of her favorite victim—er, classmate eating at a nearby café. Carefully maneuvering around the outdoor patio in a way so that she would not be seen, she noticed that Marinette was not alone… Across from her sat the snobbish cousin of Adrien’s: Felix Graham-Agreste. The Italian narrowed her eyes as she took in their chummy atmosphere. ‘When did they get so close?’

“Oh my gosh, Marinette! What a coincidence!” The liar called out as she exited her hiding spot.

The designer’s countenance darkened a bit as the liar approached, her voice dropping into a flat irritated tone. “Lila.” The snake’s eyes gleamed with a cruel light, her smile becoming a bit sharper.

“What do you want, Rossi?” Came the exasperated, blunt voice of her pale blond companion. Rude.

“What? Can’t I say hello to my classmates? I stop by this café all the time; the owner is like a father to me. I highly recommend the pasta!”

“It’s a boba café, they don’t sell pasta!” Cried the exasperated class president.

“Well, it’s on the secret men—”

“Hi, order number 42?” A waiter interrupted, pointing to the little plastic table number resting beside Felix’s elbow. “Who had the honeydew milk tea?” Marinette raised her hand and he set it before her. “And one matcha milk tea for the gentleman. Please enjoy.”

The two teens stared down Lila as the waiter left two straws and returned to his post inside to take orders. She scoffed as she sauntered away, pretending to look over the posted menu while spying on the pair. ‘Perhaps I can get something good to lie about at school tomorrow…’ she thought, watching them from the corner of her eye.

“Mm, this honeydew is delicious!” The bluenette remarked while sipping happily on her drink.

“Let me try,” Lila watched as Felix grabbed the drink right out of Marinette’s hands.

“Hey! Don’t steal all my tapioca pearls, jerk!”

The blond brought the same straw to his lips to take a sip. “Hmm, you’re right, not too sweet.” The designer’s scowl transformed into a smug smile as he set the glass back down in front of her, continuing to enjoy her drink without a second thought.

‘Did they just…indirectly kiss?! Oh my, talk about juicy gossip!’ Lila’s lips curled into a wicked smile; she couldn’t wait to twist this into a new story tomorrow!

~~~ The next day…

“You’ll never believe this, girls. Marinette was on a date with Felix!” Lila sobbed, “After I told her how much I liked him, too!”

“Aw, Lila…I’m sure that’s not what it was,” Mylene comforted the girl.

“I saw it! They were all lovey-dovey, sharing a drink—” The liar attempted.

“Girl, are you sure that your lying disease isn’t acting up again?” Alya asked skeptically as Lila tensed. “I mean…Marinette and Felix? Pfft, that’d never happen!”

“Does seem rather far-fetched,” murmured Juleka in agreement.

“But I really saw—" she tried again in vain.

“Shh, it’s okay. Why don’t you tell us more about your recent trip to Achu instead, Lila?” Rose begged the flabbergasted liar.

~~~SCENE 2: Adrien~~~

It was Saturday and the teen heartthrob of Paris had just finished a photoshoot early. Nathalie had even agreed to let him enjoy a little free time! ‘Too bad Nino is busy with Alya today,’ he thought glumly as he looked around the park. Spying his favorite designer’s balcony in the distance brought a smile to his face once again. ‘Maybe Marinette would want to play some UMS III!’ Destination set, Adrien began crossing the park at a leisurely pace, enjoying the sun and the breeze on such a pleasant day.

He watched as kids chased each other through the park, vendors sold balloons and treats, and friends picnicked on checkered blankets. The model smiled as his roaming eyes noted happy couples – like the two giggling college students holding hands as they walked, Marinette and Felix lounging under a tree, the young man chasing—WAIT. Marinette and Felix were what?

Adrien’s eyes locked back onto the pair beneath the tree in disbelief. Felix was sitting with his back against the trunk while reading the book he held in one hand. Sprawled out between his knees was a slumbering bluenette, her sketchpad forgotten on her lap while her fingers still twitched with the pencil between the digits. Her body was slumped slightly to the right, her head lazily resting against his cousin’s chest. Dumbstruck, he continued to stare as Felix brought his free hand up to turn the page before returning it back to its original place, his silver ring gleaming in a wayward sunbeam as his fingers idly played with one of Marinette’s pigtails.

They looked…comfortable. Closer than he remembered them being.

Marinette seemed to stir, her eyes squinting slightly against the sunlight before she began to shift. The blond’s hand extracted itself from her hair, his eyes falling away from those crisp white pages to gaze down at the girl in his lap. The bluenette resettled on her left side, half curled against his chest and readily fell back to sleep. With unbridled fascination, Adrien watched a soft smile spread across Felix’s face before his hand cupped around her cheek to gently play with the short hairs that curled in front of her ears. His smile never wavered as his eyes returned back to the book in his other hand as if the whole exchange had never happened.

Felix looked…happy and, perhaps, in love?

‘Are they…dating?’ The model’s brow scrunched in thought, considering the whole exchange as he quietly walked in the opposite direction. ‘Good for them. I should congratulate them at school tomorrow!’

‘Maybe Luka is available for a jam session,’ Adrien pulled out his phone to call the older boy.

~~~SCENE 3: Adrien and Alix~~~

After school the next day, while waiting for his ride, Adrien flagged down his cousin coming down the stairs. Felix gave his usual short greeting before expectantly looking at him. Noting they didn’t have much time to spare, he decided to cut to the chase.

“I noticed you and Marinette have gotten rather close recently,” Adrien smiled warmly.

“Yes, she’s been very welcoming and warm. She grows on you, much like a fungus,” the snobbish blond replied while his eyes drifted towards the entry way as if looking for someone.

“Come on, Fe! You don’t need to be so obtuse. She’s really special, isn’t she?” The model raised his eyebrows, attempting to put a heavier meaning behind his words. All he got was a distracted, affirmative hum in reply. Settling a hand on his cousin’s shoulder, his grey eyes shifted back to Adrien. The model looked directly into Felix’s eyes with a bright smile, “I just wanted to tell you that I’m really happy for you two!”

His cousin’s face scrunched up in confusion but, before he could question the green eye blond, his attention was captured by a shriek coming from the stairs behind them. Felix turned just in time to catch a flying bluenette against his chest with an “oof!” before she could hit the ground.

Alix jumped down from the top step and swooped around them in her skates, looking frantic. “Oh my gods, Mari! I’m so sorry, I thought you saw me coming. Are you okay?”

“Kubdel, what the hell were you thinking? You know Marinette has her head in the clouds 80% of the time!” Felix scolded the pink haired girl while setting the young designer down on her feet, keeping her in the protective ring of his arms. Turning to her, his tone became a tender and worried murmur, “Are you alright, princess?”

“I’m purrfectly fine, she didn’t mean to bump into me! Besides,” Alix and Adrien watched as her smile turned fond, “you caught me before I could get hurt. My hero.” She pretended to swoon and, although Felix scowled, his eyes remained soft. They watched as he took her bag from her shoulder and then grabbed her hand. Neither classmate missed how the grey eyed boy threaded his fingers through hers.

“You’re likely to fall over if I don’t hold onto you. Let’s get you home in one piece, shall we?” He nodded to the two as he led Marinette away, the unlikely duo murmuring to themselves – smiling and laughing as if in their own little world.

“Are those two dating?” Alix inquired with obvious confusion.

“Yup, I saw them cuddling in the park over the weekend. I was pretty surprised but I’m happy for them. I think she’s good for him,” Adrien grinned.

“Huh. I always thought she’d end up with you,” the pink haired girl shrugged and skated away from the now blushing blond.

“Wait, what?!”

~~~SCENE 4: Amelie~~~

The Graham-Agreste family didn’t travel outside of Paris much these days but, when they did, it was usually for a week at a time. Amelie had warned her son about the impending trip to visit a business contact in Greece and he seemed less than thrilled. She suspected it had something to do with the sweet classmate he had been spending so much free time with. She wasn’t blind but pretended to be whenever Felix’s face softened and an unconscious smile spread on his face when he would receive a text from her. She even had her own ringtone! And today? Why, Amelie was in for quite the treat because that very classmate appeared at their door just a few hours ago to help Felix pack for his trip.

She didn’t miss the chance to remind her teenage son to leave his door open as she didn’t wish to be a grandmother…yet. Nor did she miss both turning bright red at the implication of her words.

Amelie had checked a few times – while walking down the hallway, she didn’t want to cramp his style – and noted that he had left the door ajar as requested. This allowed her to catch snippets of their muffled conversation and laughter in passing. Not that she was trying to eavesdrop, but those joyful sounds made her so happy. It made her heart swell that Felix had finally found someone he could relax and be himself with! Her grumpy little man had made a friend – a girl friend no less – and Amelie was over the moon!

‘Come to think of it, it has been a while and they are awful quiet…’ she internally mused. ‘Better go check on them.’

The older blond set down her crossword and headed upstairs, approaching the bedroom door as quietly as she could. She heard nothing as she paused outside the door. Curiosity getting the better of her, she pushed the door open soundlessly. She had to bite her lip to stop from cooing over what she found!

Felix’s carryon was packed and set at the foot of the bed with care, a light jacket draped over the handle in preparation of their early flight. A single lamp on his nightstand was on, illuminating the scene before her in the dusk-colored room. In the middle of the duvet lay the two teens, about a foot apart but facing each other, unconsciously holding hands as they peacefully napped side-by-side. Tiptoeing to the end of the bed, Amelie pulled out her phone and snapped a few silent photos – noting with glee the tiny smile on her son’s face as he slept. With an airy sigh through her nose, she silently departed so the two could rest.

‘They make such a cute couple! I’ll have to frame these photos for when they get married…’

~~~SCENE 5: Juleka and Nathaniel~~~

A few weeks later, Madame Bustier had paired up students for an art history project. Juleka and Nathaniel had scheduled some time during lunch to study in the library, hoping to get the necessary books for their chosen historical figure: Marcel Duchamp. They greeted the librarian and headed towards the art history section, flipping through various books to find the most relevant information. Suddenly a giggle cut through the quiet and caught the attention of the two studious classmates. Peeking around the end of the row and looking toward the beanbag chairs in the reading nook, they spied two teens engaging in a tickle fight. Their eyes widened as they realized the grinning blond was none other than Felix and the snorting giggles were escaping a very pink, writhing Marinette.

“Is that…are they…” Nathaniel questioned under his breath, Juleka nodding vaguely to confirm that she was witnessing the same thing. This was not the work of an akuma.

They watched silently as the bluenette twisted and struggled to evade the blond boy’s nimble fingers, eventually ending up tangled and panting in an embrace that resembled a human Gordian Knot. Her legs were draped across his lap and an ankle hooked around one of his, her arms weaved and locked around his upper torso, her fingers driven into his hair. Felix’s head rested against her collar bone, his eyes shut, and lips curved into a smug smile. Their bodies were pressed so tightly together that not even a breeze could get between them. “You could have just told me you wanted to nap! Gods, you’re such a cat sometimes!” Marinette scolded softly with a huff of laughter, her fingers petting the skin and long hair at the base of his neck as the boy seemed to melt further against the young designer.

“Do you think they’re dating?” Juleka whispered in amazement.

“Certainly seems like it,” the red head replied.

~~~SCENE 6: Mylene and Rose~~~

“…And the whole park just looks so lovely with all those new trees planted! Thank you for helping with my beautification project, Rose!” Mylene expressed happily to the strawberry blond beside her as they wandered into the cafeteria.

“I was so happy to help. The flowers are going to smell amazing when they begin to blossom!” Rose swooned softly before bumping into someone in her distracted state. “Oh, hey Marinette! What have you got there?”

“Hey guys! I made bento boxes today, want to see?” The bluenette opened the two boxes for their perusal. Inside were tiny hotdog octopi piled so close together that they seemed to be kissing, slices of fried chicken, rice balls with seaweed hearts stuck all over them, and a small salad filled with heart shaped veggies. The two girls cooed over each detail, noting the obvious theme…

“Did you make these for your crush, Marinette?” Rose chirped sweetly, “So romantic!”

“Wh-what?! N-no, no! I just made these because I wanted to…” the young designer blushed crimson at their words and nervously rubbed the back of her neck. “I kind of fell down a YouTube rabbit hole with Kagami the other day and became super obsessed with the idea. I’m not very good though, I still need a bunch of practice…”

The colorful dreadlocked girl smiled kindly, “I think it’s really sweet! You know, I bet Adrien would—”

“Oh shoot! Sorry, girls, I promised Felix we’d have lunch together to work on our project and I really want to eat before this gets cold,” interrupted a distracted Marinette as she packed up her bento, her face scrunched as she took in the grumpy blond at the far end of the cafeteria.

“Sure, see you later, Mari!” Rose and Mylene watched as their friend crossed the room to sit with Felix. “They’ve been spending a lot of time together lately, huh?”

The mousey girl nodded, watching in fascination as their class rep seemed to scold the pale blond for only eating an apple before spreading the two bento boxes between them on the table. Felix responded with an eyeroll from the other side of his book, but Marinette just gesticulated her hand brandishing chopsticks to wave off his arguments. They were taken aback a moment later when she scooped a mouthful from the box and blew away the steam, then offered it to the boy with a silent ‘say ah!’ The grump seemed to huff before dutifully taking the morsel into his mouth, not letting her feeding him interrupt his reading. Marinette smiled brightly and continued to feed them both in this fashion, completely oblivious of the two shocked girls watching from afar.

The petite bubbly girl squealed with joy! “Do you think she actually made the bento for Felix? Oh my goodness, she filled it with hearts!”

“And he accepted it! We’ve got to tell the girls!” Mylene gushed, thrilled to see their sweet friend find love and appreciation.

Looks like the Adrienette fan club needs to disband…

~~~SCENE 7: Kim~~~

It was date night with his girl, Ondine. He had lost their bet at swim practice, so she got to pick the movie – some American “classic” called Grease playing at a small, off-the-beaten-path theater. She seemed happy so Kim wasn’t about to complain. ‘I just hope it’s not a total chick flick! I’ll have to catch the latest John Wick with the guys next weekend…’ he internally sighed. It was early evening on a weeknight, a few bored employees manned the front, and very few patrons were in attendance. Most appeared to be couples out on their own dates. The two athletic teens settled into their seats near the back – prime make out territory for couples, oh yeah – just in time for the lights to dim.

Suddenly, about five minutes into the film, the entry door on the opposite side of the auditorium opened with a loud BANG and made everyone present jump. Kim heard a familiar voice call out a whispered “sorry!” before catching sight of a couple quietly making their way down the aisle and settling a few rows down from where he was. One tall, lanky, dour blond and a shorter, contrite looking bluenette… Wait, was that Felix and Marinette? As Ondine hummed and danced in her seat to ‘Summer Lovin,’ Kim curiously watched as the duo took their seats in the back half of the theater. Once seated, there was some sort of frantic movement from Marinette before Felix settled his arm over her shoulders and pulled her closer; the young designer’s head coming to rest against his chest. Kim’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline and his jaw dropped.

Were they on a DATE?

Distracted, Kim draped his arm around his girlfriend and stared off towards the screen unseeing for a few moments, the gears in his head slowly turning. They arrived together. They seemed cuddly with each other. His eyes widened. ‘Wait, they…’ He glanced over a few times to verify, ‘…they sat in the make out section!’ By the time the characters were dancing around the carnival to ‘We Go Together,’ the Vietnamese boy noticed out of the corner of his eye that Felix had long ago rested his head on top of Mari’s and had occasionally rubbed his cheek against her dark hair.

Maybe it wasn’t really them?

The credits rolled and the dim house lights came on, allowing him to get a better look at the couple as they got up to leave. Oh, yup, it was definitely Felix and Marinette. He nodded along as Ondine gushed about the film, watching his classmates ahead of them from his peripherals. Marinette was gesturing widely, her eyes lit up in a way that only happened when she spoke about fashion. The grouchy teen was gone, a warm smile on his face as he gazed down at the girl beside him. Once outside, he watched as the smile turned into a frown once again – this time only because the bluenette was shivering. He thought he heard the blond murmur “are you cold, Bug?” but he wasn’t sure. For the second time that night, Kim was shocked as Felix shrugged out of his coat and draped it around the dark-haired girl before pulling her close as they walked down the street.

Ondine looked between Kim and the couple, tilting her head a bit. “Isn’t that your friend, Marinette?”

“Yeah…” the taller boy replied hesitantly.

“Wow, she and her boyfriend make such a cute couple!”

~~~SCENE 8: Chloe & Nino~~~

Nino’s groan of frustration was so loud that it reverberated off the walls of the hallway, “Chloe! Look, I’m not thrilled about having to do this report with you either but I’m not going to let you just not do anything!”

The haughty blond girl huffed, crossing her arms with a pout. “I can’t believe you’re going to make me do…” She paused, her mouth opening and closing like she was attempting to spit out something foul tasting, “…homework, Lahiffe. I have far more interesting things to do – like my mani-pedi! These hands don’t just look perfect all on their own!”

“Just use your phone to search for some information on Louise Bourgeois. You insisted on picking her since you’re related but you have to do more than pick the topic!”

Chloe scoffed and turned towards the other blond that had wandered out of the classroom, “Felikins, tell Lahiffe here that a young woman like myself has important needs!”

Felix settled against the wall beside the classroom door and rolled his eyes. He opened his mouth to reply when a stumbling blur came through the doorway and seized his attention. Nino watched in fascination as Adrien’s cousin quickly spun – was he always that fast? – and caught the figure in his arms, his face scrunched up in confusion and concern. As he raised himself from a crouch, the DJ was able to see he now held a barely conscious Marinette.

“Dudette! She okay?” Nino stepped closer with an outstretched hand, worry evident in his tone. Sure, he hadn’t been able to hang out with her as much lately, but he knew her! His oldest friend tended to push herself too hard and take on too much, plus she had developed a sensitivity to cold recently… Made her susceptible to getting sick very easily.

Then something unexpected happened that stunned them to silence... The grey eyed boy leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead, his face transforming from worry to shock before effortlessly scooping the limp bluenette up bridal style. His voice softened, “Marinette, you have a fever! Did you go out without your jacket again?” He huffed as the girl whined weakly in his arms. Turning to the two of them, his tone became all business once more, “Excuse me, it seems I need to take her to the nurse.” The two shocked classmates stepped aside as a very fierce looking Felix hastened down the hall like a man on a mission. Nino could swear he heard Felix’s voice echoed a ‘what am I going to do with you, princess?’ as he turned the corner, but Felix surely wouldn’t say something like that… would he? Then again…

“Did Felix just…kiss Marinette? Do you think they’re dating?” Nino wondered aloud.

His words seemed to snap Chloe out of her stupor, she spun to face him and screeched in disbelief, “What?! Dating? Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!”

~~~SCENE 9: Sabine & Tom~~~

Sabine was a patient, protective, intuitive woman. She watched her beautiful daughter trip over herself for a boy in her school – a model, no less – she just shook her head. Adrien seemed like a sweet boy but distracted and flighty. Tom thought he seemed like a good match for their sweet girl at first and welcomed him into their home like they would a future son-in-law; Sabine was unconvinced though. Not that she would treat the sweet teen model without her usual kindness – he was her little Bǎobèi‘s friend, after all. He just wasn’t the right one.

However, about half a year later Marinette came home with another blond boy that immediately caught her attention. The new boy, Felix, looked similar to Adrien but was entirely different. Sure, both boys were respectful, handsome, and polite… However, where Adrien was falling over himself for approval and acceptance, Felix walked with a gait that seemed to communicate he needed no one’s approval. She watched with interest as their friendship developed and noted with a smile that the grumpy boy balanced out their daughter’s overexuberance. She softened his hard edges; his quiet support allowed her self-confidence to blossom. He brought structure and order; she ruffled his feathers and introduced some spontaneity to his life. Sabine and Tom had friendly bets going that the two would become something more, but nothing had shown that that was happening. There had been an obvious change in their dynamic a few weeks ago and the bakers were thrilled! Perhaps this was the moment? No.

At this rate, her daughter was going to cost her $30 if they didn’t get together by the end of the month…

It had been a couple days since a worried Felix carried a feverish Marinette home from school. He made sure to come by each day with notes, assignments, and to inquire about her health. Sabine could tell by the way his eyes drifted to the back stairs during each visit that he wanted to see her – not that the taciturn blond would admit such a thing. The two teens were in the living room watching a movie now that she was feeling better. Sabine smiled softly as she washed a few dishes in the sink, ‘As if illness would keep that boy away from your side, Bǎobèi…’ The blond teen was sitting a respectful distance from her daughter on the couch as they chatted about the plot quietly, smiles on both of their faces.

Marinette began to shiver, her body not quite recovered, and whined about feeling cold. Sabine watched as Felix rolled his eyes before getting up, eliciting a louder whine from the girl on the couch. He passed the kitchen with a nod and wordlessly went up the stairs to the designer’s room, returning with a thick fluffy blanket as if he was used to fetching things in their house or for their daughter. Odd. The boy proceeded to drape the blanket over his blue-eyed classmate, carefully tucking it around her whole form before lifting her feet and encasing them as well. Marinette made happy noises as she began to settle in when a sudden movement made her squawk with indignation. Sabine turned in time to see Felix sit closer to her, Marinette’s feet on his lap as he began to unconsciously rub them through the cover of the blanket.

The older bluenette smiled, watching the two returning back to their bantering. Sabine quietly dried her hands and went back down to the bakery. Tom was going to want to hear all about this!

~~~Later…

Tom and his wife tiptoed up the stairs, hoping to catch a glimpse of the two teens without their notice. There, on the couch and basking in the glow of the DVD menu, lay two sleeping teens. Their daughter was cocooned in the blanket like a caterpillar going through metamorphosis, only her head was visible. However, laying slightly behind and draped over the blanket was the slumbering form of Felix. His arms unconsciously pulled her closer, causing their Bǎobèi to hum happily.

“Better be ready to pay up, honey,” whispered Sabine with a grin. “This boy is definitely our Nǚxù.”

Tom chuckled softly, pulling out his phone and opening the notes app. “Do you think he’ll like strawberry crème for their wedding cake?”

“Perhaps lemon, it would go very well with that cream cheese buttercream you’ve been testing out…”

The two adults retreated back to the bakery to continue their discussion, leaving the two teens blissfully unaware that the details of their anticipated nuptials would likely be hammered out by the end of the week.

~~~SCENE 10: Sabrina & Roger Raincomprix~~~

Lt. Roger Raincomprix returned home after his evening patrol, dropping his keys on the entryway table before letting out a long sigh. Tonight had been a long shift but he needed to speak to his daughter before she went to bed… He plodded down the hallway to her room and knocked when he saw the light still shining from beneath the door. “Sabrina? Are you still up, pumpkin?”

“Come on in, Dad!” Roger nervously pushed his way in, finding his smiling daughter dressed in her pajamas and sitting at her desk. “We have a big test tomorrow, so I was just getting in one last review before going to bed.”

“That’s good, honey. We need to have a talk,” the officer sat on the edge of his daughter’s bed and fidgeted with his hands. He wasn’t sure how to broach this topic with his teenage daughter but, some things had happened that evening that made Roger realize that he needed to make sure she was being safe.

“Something wrong, Dad? Did something happen on patrol tonight?” Sabrina’s tone became pensive, concerned for the serious look that her father was sporting.

He dropped his eyes to the floor, flexing his hands in and out of fists as he spoke haltingly. “Yes. Uh…well… Pumpkin, you’re a young woman now. Hormones are hard to deal with as a teen and you’re…going to meet someone special…and you’re going to have some urges—”

“DAD!” The scandalized cry brought his eyes up to meet her own wide, cyan-colored eyes. “Are you…trying to give me the ‘birds and the bees’ talk?”

He swallowed thickly, “Yes, sweetie. You’re sixteen now and—”

His daughter crossed her arms and gave him a flat look as she interrupted again, “I don’t even have a romantic interest right now, Dad. We already covered this in Sex Ed. What is this really about? What happened on patrol?”

Roger gave a long sigh and his brow furrowed. ‘I shouldn’t tell her what happened but… Sabrina wouldn’t tell anyone.’

He cleared his throat. “There was an incident with two of your classmates tonight in the park—”

“WHAT? Who?”

“Sabine’s daughter, Marinette, and that blond kid…what was his name again? Not the model.”

“Felix Graham-Agreste?”

He snapped his fingers, “That’s the one! Caught the two of them in the park canoodling…”

~~Earlier…

Lt. Raincomprix whistled softly as he walked past the hero statue in the park. It had been a quiet shift besides the akuma – not that he could assist with that! – which the heroes apparently wrapped up a few minutes ago, if the recent swarm of ladybugs was any indication. ‘I wonder what those two do after the fight? Chat Noir seems suave, he’s probably some playboy…’ Suddenly a crash and groans were heard. Roger pulled out his flashlight and rushed toward the bushes where the noise originated. There, he found two teens he recognized from his daughter’s class in a compromising position…

Felix Graham-Agreste was slouched back against the trunk of a tree and Marinette Dupain-Cheng was slumped forward between his knees, both staring towards the light with wide eyes. Their hair and clothes were in disarray, small twigs and leaves attached to the strands as if they had been rolling through the bushes. One of the bluenette’s hands was resting upon his thigh, while the other was gripping the front of his belt. The blond had a hand on the back of her head and the other pressed against her upper back, as if pulling her towards him. Felix’s shirt had been untucked and ridden up to expose his stomach; Marinette’s shirt gaped open in the front where a few buttons had popped off to reveal the lacy shoulder strap of her bra.

“What do you two think you’re doing? A park is no place for a lover’s tryst!” Lt. Raincomprix exclaimed.

The two looked each other over briefly before turning red in the face, the small girl squeaked in embarrassment as the boy pulled her close to cover her exposed décolletage and flaming face. He cleared his throat to try to regain some semblance of decorum. “Our apologies, Officer. We weren’t… this isn’t… this was an accident…”

“So are many babies that come from young teenage relationships, son. I understand, I was a young, hot-blooded man myself once.” Roger chuckled at the memory of his adolescent escapades. The two teens in front of him rose to their feet, a flustered Marinette clutched the front of her shirt closed as a more composed Felix kept an arm around her while he continued to shield her from view with his body. “Head on home. I don’t want to be finding you two in the bushes after dark again, you hear?”

The two teens nodded and started the trek back towards the bakery, Roger could hear the bluenette muttering about this being all the boy’s fault. Before they could escape the park, the officer called back out to them. “Oh! And remember to use protection!” He could see the pale blond stiffen and a new flush of red go up the back of his neck at the comment. He chuckled and murmured quietly, “Kids these days…”

~~~Present…

“…I know they’re in your class and you’re all about the same age. It’s totally natural to express your love that way. I just wanted to have a talk with you to make sure that you’ll be safe.” Roger smiled at his daughter and ruffled her hair. “Alright, pumpkin, thanks for hearing me out. Just wait to give me grandkids until you’re a bit older, hm?” He chuckled and walked from the room with a wave. “Sweet dreams and good luck on that test tomorrow!”

A gaping Sabrina stared at the door that her father closed behind him, trying to grasp the facts – Felix and Marinette were apparently caught in a park together.

Were they even dating? It was obviously serious!

Or was he just using her?

How had no one noticed?

She needed to talk to Chloe!

~~~SCENE 11: Max~~~

The cafeteria was busy when Max Kanté wandered in, almost every seat was taken, and a few students had even braved sitting on the notoriously filthy tabletops. Markov scanned the area and found an empty chair near the resident grumpy blond in the corner – was he saving it for someone? Or perhaps most were just too intimidated to ask? Based on various factors, the bespectacled teen calculated that he had a 64.8% chance of success approaching him verses someone else in their class. He’d take those odds.

Approaching the distant table, he noted that Felix Graham-Agreste was focused – leaned forward on elbows and brow furrowed – on a laptop screen in front of him and, once he was within two meters of his target, that it appeared he was playing a video game. Max’s curiosity was peaked. “Hello Felix, apologies, I noticed you were playing a game. I was unaware you were a gamer. Perhaps you would be interested in being a beta test—”

The blond winced slightly and sat back, looking up at the suspender-wearing boy with a wry smirk. “I’m not, Kante. I am attempting to try a game recommended to me by an acquaintance. I’m afraid this endeavor is likely fruitless.”

“Oh,” Max paused, unsure how to continue the conversation. “Well, if you change your mind, I wouldn’t mind a non-gamer perspective. My games should be user friendly to professionals and novices alike.” Felix hummed in response, his eyes returning to the screen where 32-bit sprites bounced in place while awaiting orders. ‘Likely an emulator game considering the archaic graphics,’ he thought to himself.

He cleared his throat and rested his hand on the back of the open chair. “I actually came here to ask if I could take the chair or are you saving it?”

Felix’s eyes flickered over the item before he waved dismissively, “Take it. I’m not saving it.”

“Many thanks. Enjoy your game.” The blond teen snorted in reply and turned back towards his computer.

Max moved to a table nearby, settling in to eat with a few members of the AV club to discuss the latest technology released at the recent Consumer Electronics Show (CES). While one boy animatedly spoke of the newest VR technologies, the bespectacled boy noticed Marinette swerving between the tables; he raised his hand to greet her, but she only gave a wave in passing before stopping beside Felix. Unusual. The distance between them was not great and, though he did not mean to, he could not help eavesdropping inadvertently.

“Hey Felix! Are you…playing a game?” The bluenette leaned over his shoulder, tilting her head at what was displayed.

“Yes, although not very well.” He chuckled softly.

“…But you don’t like video games,” he hummed as she paused in thought. “What brought on the change of heart?”

Felix roughly cleared his throat and preoccupied himself with brushing nonexistent dust from the keyboard keys rather than meeting her eyes. When he finally spoke, Max could barely hear his voice over the general din. “…You enjoy it.” Were his ears red? That had to be a trick of the light!

Marinette whipped her head towards him, blinking a few times as she absorbed his words. Max could see the instant they sunk in: her cheeks took on a rosy glow, her eyes softened, and a sweet smile spread across her face. Were they…flirting? Max was unsure. She leaned in a bit closer, “So…what are we playing?”

Felix seemed to recover some of his normal composure at her reply, “Final Fantasy 7, unfortunately.”

“Wait, the original 1997 release? I love that game!” Marinette glanced around for a chair, frowning when she didn’t see one available. She contemplated the tabletop with a quick swipe of her hand, grimacing at finding something sticky. She wiped her hand lightly on her dark wash jeans and mumbled something that made the boy scoff. They seemed to exchange a look before he sat back and made a gesture in front of him.

Wait! Was Felix Graham-Agreste offering what Max thought he was offering?

No! Couldn’t be! There was only a 13.7% chance that…

Max stared with wide eyes as the blue-eyed designer smiled graciously before casually taking a seat on the blond’s lap – as if this was an everyday occurrence! – before proceeding into a detailed breakdown of the game mechanics and basic strategy. Felix loosely looped an arm around her waist to hold her steady while her hands fluttered about to emphasize her words. The pale blond rested his chin on her shoulder, his eyes attentive and focused on the screen once more, nodding along while his body language communicated contentment. Lifting the sleeve of his green polo shirt, Max pinched himself to make sure he was not imagining this strange manifestation, then glanced around for an akuma for good measure. Nope, this was real.

‘Looks like I need to adjust my calculations…’ he thought, baffled.

~~~SCENE 12: The Whole Class~~~

After a few long days of presentations and exams (and multiple late-night stress-induced akumas – midterms, amirite?), students were rewarded with a school board mandated half day as a “stress relief” measure. Dupont’s was scheduled on Wednesday and teachers had doubled up on homework assignments, but Madam Bustier’s class wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth! The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and they had time off from school! They quickly arranged for a potluck styled picnic in the park and most of their group had arrived by the allotted time…

“Hey, where’s Marinette and Felix?” Max questioned.

“Don’t know about Felix but you know my girl, she’s always running late,” Alya chuckled.

“They’re probably coming together!” Rose chirped from beside a nodding Mylene. Juleka seemed to be murmuring something about a Felinette fan club to a perplexed Ivan.

The Ladyblogger scoffed, “Yeah right. They can barely stand each other at school.” Alix seemed to be quietly chuckling at something Nathaniel was muttering about from the shade of a nearby tree.

Nino and Adrien shared a look beside a smug Kim. “They seemed pretty chummy to me,” the jock shrugged while the other two boys nodded emphatically.

Lila crossed her arms with a huff, “I tried to tell you, Aly—”

“Pardon our tardiness, someone couldn’t pick what flavor juice they wanted…” interrupted Felix with an annoyed tone.

Everyone turned to see the grumpy blond, who had suddenly appeared and was setting down a few boxes of pastries from the boulangerie. He was dressed in a crisp white linen button up, the long sleeves belying the warmth in the air, with his typical grey vest and slacks. Trailing behind was a contrite looking Marinette carrying a large jug of grape juice, her flirty grey skirt and short-sleeved white blouse with white embroidery seeming to match Felix in a casual way. Most present would agree that that was the best way to describe the pair: formal vs. casual, yet somehow complimentary. Well, most people anyway – Alya called it a coincidence!

“There were too many options,” she protested with a scoff, “rich people apparently like to have a bazillion different kinds of juice!”

“It’s called ‘having a selection’ and that’s not even a number!” The boy snarked back, wandering closer to Adrien with an eyeroll. The designer grumbled as she poured herself a cup of juice.

“Now that everyone’s here, let’s get this party started!” Nino cried while pumping a fist in the air, cueing Max to start up the tunes while the group mingled over snacks and students settled into a rough circle on a collection of picnic blankets.

Everyone was laughing and having a good time, although many were stealing glances at the bluenette and pale blond as they seemed to coordinate or maneuver around each other like some kind of elaborate dance. His hand steadying her elbow as she wobbled while getting up, her wordlessly placing a few extra cheese squares onto his plate, a tap or a smile or a shoulder bump somehow communicating each other’s needs without words. The food began to dwindle after a couple amicable – if scrutinizing – hours passed. All that remained was a handful of badly bruised fruit and the dwindling drink supply. It was during a moment when Marinette was refilling her cup with juice at the nearby table and Felix turned a certain way that it happened…

“Uh, Fe… You have something on your collar.” Adrien pointed towards his own neck to indicate the general location. “Did you spill something on yourself?”

“No,” puzzled the teen in question, popping open the top button, pulling the collar away from his neck and into the edges of his field of vision.

“Yeah, dude, it kinda looks like lipstick?” Nino helpfully contributed.

Felix face morphed into a flat look of irritation before leaning back to call over his shoulder, “You got lipstick on me again?”

‘AGAIN?’ The class thought simultaneously, shocked speechless.

Oblivious to the turmoil he had created in their classmates, the grumpy blond turned to speak directly to the approaching bluenette. “What is it with you and always leaving marks on me, hm?”

Jaws slackened, unsure what to make of such a bold statement. However, Alya’s eyes had zeroed in on the exposed skin around Felix’s collar bones and shoulder… which were covered in light scratches. Scratches that were obviously made by human fingernails rather than by an animal. ‘As if given in the heat of passion…’ The thought caused her to choke on a bite of food and left her coughing roughly to clear her windpipe.

“It’s not like I meant to—AH!” Marinette’s toe caught on a rock, lurching her forward and causing the grape juice to go airborne. As if in slow motion, everyone watched in silent fascination as the purple stream crashed down on Felix. With a bland look and soft growl, the now wet teen dragged a hand down his face and looked into the bluebell eyes staring at him in horror. A silent conversation seemed to pass between the two as everyone held their breath – Adrien’s cousin was not known for being forgiving, especially when it came to his clothes. After a couple seconds, the young designer scrambled up and began to blot his face and neck with a few wrinkled napkins that she had crushed in her hand when she fell.

“Oh gods… I’m so, so sorry, Felix!” They watched as his brow furrowed and he captured the wrist of one fussing hand in his. Just as he was about to open his mouth to give a – likely scathing – retort, she suddenly perked up with a determined glint in her eye. In one fluid motion she reversed his hold and yanked them both to their feet. “I know! Let’s go back to my house so you can change, I have one of your shirts from last time!”

With a quick tug and a brusque ‘see ya’ over her shoulder, the two were off! The drenched blond stumbling after the exuberant bluenette bounding gracefully across the grass, moving so fast that they were quickly out of earshot. Leaving behind the cacophony of vocalized reactions of their friends and classmates to such a proclamation…

“Wait—”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN—”

“…Last time?”

“Do you think that means they…”

“DUDE!”

“…my ship…”

“Damn, get it, bro!”

“Did you see…”

“I told you so!”

“What just happened?!”

“Ridiculous! If you hadn’t already told me, Sabrina, I would not have believed it.” Chloe’s muttered words, although not loud, cut through the din and silenced all present. Twelve sets of eyes landed on the duo as if seeking answers or insider gossip.

“Wait! What do you know, Sabrina?” Alya questioned with narrowed eyes.

“Well…” she hesitated, looking around nervously before dropping her eyes to the checkered pattern of the blanket she sat on. “My dad said, the other night…”

~~~SCENE 13: The Confrontation~~~

No one was really sure how it started but the newest ‘golden couple’ was in the middle of an argument during their free period. Madam Bustier had left to gather more materials for later coursework. Everyone watched with silent interest as Marinette and Felix seemed to forget that the rest of the room existed, teasing smirks and flashing eyes only for each other.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah!”

“You and what army?”

“I don’t need an army, I can best you all by myself.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

The class collectively held their breath as the two edged closer and closer. The space between them on their shared bench disappeared as they leaned in, eyes locked together as grey gazed deeply into blue, nose to nose and humid breaths mingling as they continued to banter. Marinette’s bangs brushed Felix’s forehead as he tilted his head and his features adopted a more cocksure appearance, as if he was challenging her. She leaned ever closer, their lips only a whisper apart as their voices dropped in timbre. Time seemed to slow to a stop in the classroom. The anticipation was so thick that it was choking every ambient sound into silence…

“JUST KISS ALREADY!”

In an instant the spell was broken. Everyone jumped at the screeched words and searched for the source. There stood a panting, flushed Juleka. Her hands planted on her desk as she leaned aggressively forward, a fierce fire burning in her eyes as they bored into Marinette and Felix – as if the strength of her will alone would make it happen. A few groans were heard as the couple leaned away with widened eyes, only now realizing they had an audience.

“What did you say?” questioned the pale blond, his lips turning down into a frown.

“We’re saying you don’t need to hide your relationship anymore,” Ivan smiled softly.

“Guys, what…” the young designer chuckled incredulously.

“We know you two are dating,” answered Kim plainly.

Marinette and Felix’s ruddy complexions mirrored each other, their eyes looking like they might pop from their sockets. The two tripped over their words to contradict but neither were able to get more than a “we’re not—“/”that’s not—” as their tongues tumbled about uselessly in their mouths.

“Don’t even try to deny it, we’ve all seen you two. It’s not like you’re very subtle, Dupain-Cheng!” Chloe crossed her arms and stared down her nose at them.

The tall blond boy was the first to recover, his brow furrowing. “Wait, what do you mean you saw us?”

“I saw you cuddling in the park,” Adrien offered softly.

“And in the library,” Nathaniel contributed while Juleka got herself under control.

“All of you know that Marinette is very physically affectionate, especially when she’s cold.” Felix defended.

Alix scoffed, “What about holding hands and carrying her bags?”

“She’s also incredibly clumsy and regularly hurts herself. I do that to keep her from faceplanting every three meters,” he argued while Mari chuckled softly.

“You two regularly share drinks,” Lila rolled her eyes at the gasped “sorry for not believing you, girl!” coming from Alya beside her.

“And made him bento lunches!” squealed a lovesick Rose.

“Hey! I told you I made those on a whim!” the young designer cried.

“Then why were there so many hearts?” Mylene innocently questioned.

The bluenette blushed, “They were supposed to be flowers…I’m not very good at cutting shapes with a knife.”

“Well, Ondine and I saw you all lovey-dovey at the movies,” presented Kim with an eyebrow waggle.

She crossed her arms and huffed, “I was researching 1950’s American fashion for a design!”

“Uh…dudette…we saw him kiss you,” Nino nervously murmured. Although, by the way the whole class gasped, they had heard him. The Moroccan boy quickly added, “it was on the head!”

Marinette squeaked and looked at the slightly pink boy beside her. Felix turned to meet Nino’s eye, “…she was ill with a fever and I had my hands full, if you will recall.”

Lila’s tone turned salacious, “That doesn’t even cover the scandalous moments…”

“You did seem awfully cuddly playing video games at lunch the other day,” Max stated while adjusting his glasses.

“B-but th-that was…” the designer stuttered weakly before being interrupted.

“Sabrina’s father caught you hooking up in the park,” Kim smirked and winked towards Felix, who showed the telltale signs of a flush spreading up his neck and ears.

“Not to mention the lipstick and scratches!” Alya leaned towards Marinette and whisper shouted, “I didn’t know you had it in you, girl!”

“And he has clothes at your place from last time,” purred the Italian.

“That’s…” the bluenette swallowed hard, “I-I-I was tr-trying to save a k-kit-kitten from the tr-tree in the p-park. F-Felix ca-caught me when I s-slipped, damaged hi-his clothes… He left his sh-shirt for m-me to repair it and he for-forgot to p-pick it up.”

The blond kept his eyes down, his voice was quiet but still carried in the small classroom, “I recently discovered a new allergy to a certain laundry detergent that makes me very itchy and I’ve been scratching myself…”

“Um…what about the lipstick?” a bashful Adrien murmured.

“I hav-haven’t gotten m-m-much sleep lately…” began the designer, pressing her palms together in her lap nervously.

“…She has a tendency to fall asleep on me if I carry her,” Felix finished quietly, his grey eyes holding unreadable emotions.

“We’re just friends,” they flatly replied, their expressions reflecting some internal conflict while unable to meet the other’s eye.

Most of the students collectively groaned again as they hunkered back down into their seats, unable to stand that phrase. Fourteen sets of eyes exchanged looks as the information sank in. The couple’s explanation made a lot of sense in hindsight… Nino and Kim had known Mari for years and she was overly physically affectionate. ‘Plus Alya knows the girl was even more so with cold weather,’ the Moroccan boy thought. He and Kim shrugged it off, who were they to judge? Many others are willing to brush it off as a misunderstanding now that the excitement had passed.

On the other hand, Adrien seemed to grow more flustered since the declaration of friendship, shooting furtive glances towards Marinette – his imagination running wild with the idea of cuddling with the soft, sweet-smelling baker girl. ‘Maybe she and I…’ He was jolted from his daydreams by a tap from Nino’s pen on his arm. The model’s ears and cheeks felt like they would permanently sport a pink coloration. A few Adrienette fan club members squealed quietly as they observed his reactions. However, there were a few classmates that were still suspicious – such as Chloe and Sabrina – that quickly found home with the handful of Felinette shippers as they charted their theories. Some things just felt too convenient and damn, if they didn’t make an adorable couple…

REET! REET! REET!

The akuma alert popped up on every phone in the class, everyone opened it to see the location— BOOM!

RIIIIIING!

A plume of dust rose above the rooftops from a few blocks away and the school’s evacuation bell blared overhead. The students quickly grabbed their things and calmly evacuated away from the action. They all failed to notice a still pink Felix Graham-Agreste grab the hand of a flustered Marinette Dupain-Cheng before running furiously in the opposite direction…

~~~ BONUS SCENE~~~

The akuma took longer than usual. They were both off their game. First, the heroes had been distracted and submerged in the thoughts contained within their own minds. Their communication suddenly became stilted and awkward, filled with embarrassed laughter that would die out like a sputtering engine running out of fuel. Then it was as if they were hyperaware of each other – every touch, glance, and proximity – causing them to jerk away at the most inopportune times.

The worst part?

It wasn’t caused by the akuma.

The issues were not resolved by the Miraculous Cure. So, after recharging – and getting a peptalk from – their kwamis, they rendezvoused on the top of a tall building where they would not be overheard. Feet dangling over the edge, they decided to clear the air.

“I just can’t believe they thought we were dating!” Ladybug cried, her hands fluttering anxiously around her head.

"That cover story about the kitten in the park was genius though." Chat Noir chuckled, “I’m honestly not as surprised. You did suddenly act much closer to me after you revealed your identity.”

“Excuse moi? I was NOT the one that revealed to you! I seem to recall saving your leather-clad butt from being revealed to all of Paris.” The spotted heroine poked him in the shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah…” the black-cloaked hero rolled his eyes, “and you happened to drop your transformation right as we barreled headlong into that broom closet. You landed right on top of me!”

“Fine, I saved both of our asses, Alley Cat!” she grinned teasingly.

Chat threw his head back with a joyous laugh, a more natural grin spreading across his face as he flirtatiously waggled his eyebrows. “Alley Cat who? Our classmates seem to think I’m a House Cat now, Bugaboo.”

Ladybug’s cheeks pinked under her mask at the implication of his joke, her eyes breaking away from his to refocus on another point on the skyline pensively. Had he said something wrong? The lines of Chat’s mouth tugged down at her reaction, leaning closer in an attempt to meet her eyes again when her whisper froze him in place.

“…is the idea of being MY kitty so ridiculous…?”

His eyes widened. Chat swallowed thickly, his mind supplying the same sweet moments their classmates had witnessed and more as his face burned up. Perhaps even a bassinet, family dinners, and kisses. Gods, that sounded…purrfect. A wide grin blossomed from the ashes of his frown and he leaned into her peripherals to catch her eye with a flirty wink.

“Does that mean my princess would like to become my queen?”

The bug-heroine’s eyes snapped to meet his, filled with enough warmth and love to knock the air from his lungs. Within seconds, a playful sparkle and a bright smile broke across her face as she leaned right into his personal space to peck his cheek. His face grew hot, smile lopsided, and he could swear his spine melted a little.

“If you can catch me, Kitty,” launching herself from the building with a laugh as she swung away.

Shaking himself from his stupor, he pulled out his baton and plunged off the side. Challenge accepted. He had a bug to catch!

‘Looks like our classmates will have more to talk about tomorrow…’

**Note: I plan to write a sequel eventually!

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