#and I told them with complete honesty what I could and could not guarantee because a sale isn't worth risking someone's health | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dantakeyoman · 1 year ago

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𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐄 | 𝐣. 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐡

♡ 𝐣𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 "𝐬𝐨𝐚𝐩" 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐱 𝐦𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧! 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

♡ * "𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒂 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒓, 𝒃𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒆. 𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂𝒆 '𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒆 𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏' 𝒇𝒖𝒓 𝒎𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚." *

♡ 𝐚/𝐧: 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐠𝐮𝐧𝐬, 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐬, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐟𝐫𝐨-𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐚, 𝐢 𝐚𝐦 𝐚𝐟𝐫𝐨-𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐳 𝐛𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝...

♡ 𝐚/𝐧 𝐭𝐰𝐨: 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐩𝐥𝐳 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐱 𝐢𝐭, 𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠 (𝐢 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭), 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐟𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐳 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.

♡ 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑻𝑾𝑶

"𝐍𝐎 mames!" Rita exclaimed, eyes wide as she dropped her brush on the ground, completely taken aback.

You nodded, almost unable to believe it true yourself.

"You had him in your hands! Why isn't that coward dead?!"

"International law, Riti," you shrugged, "Iran is not at war with us, so we had no right to execute him."

You sighed, roughly grabbing your toiletry bag and plopping yourself down on your bunk.

"We couldn't hurt a hair on that bald, bastard's head. It would've been an act of war."

After your exfil from the river, you, Soap, and Ghost traveled about two klicks to cartel territory, where the Americans had tracked down Hassan.

Everything had gone swimmingly, which, in all honesty, should've been your first warning.

Because once you had him in your custody and interrogated him, it was revealed by Laswell that you had no right to hold him.

And that killing Hassan would guarantee war between Al Mazrah and North America.

"Damn," Rita sighed, walking over and sitting down next to you.

Your face showed that you were clearly beating yourself up for what happened.

And like the good friend she was, she decided to take your mind off it by switching to a more intriguing topic.

"Y'know...." She started with a smile, "That American man with the weird hair was eyeing you today."

You perked at the mention of his name,

"Soap?" You cocked a brow, "He's not American. Es de Escocia."

"Tomayto, tomato," she rolled her eyes, "Either way, he was looking at you like he's never seen a méxicana before."

"I doubt it," you shook your head, "He's traveled the world. He's probably seen women all over."

"Eh..." She shrugged, a small smirk playing at her lips, "Maybe he wants some of that méxicana. Who knows?"

"Rita!" You burned with embarrassment.

"What?!" She exclaimed with a smile, "I didn't say anything..."

"I'm going on a walk," you sighed, cutting the conversation short as you stood up, slipping on some slippers.

"Buenas noches~" She cooed, watching you make your way to the door.

You shot her a playful glare, flipping her off before taking your leave, shutting the door behind you.

She smiled to herself, deciding to start up her nightly routine.

"Yo tambien te quiero..."

𝐒𝐎 concerned with Rita's nonsense, you failed to remember just how drafty the base got at night, cursing yourself for forgetting your sweater in the room.

"Esta noche no podría ser peor..." You grumbled, hugging yourself tight.

Walking through the barracks hall, you could hear the rustling of your men on the other sides of the doors.

Some of them were talking about the events of the day, some of them were saying their nightly prayers...

Some of them even sharing a toast to Rodriguez and Vasquez, your fallen.

Your face fell at the reminder.

Rita had told you countless times that what happened wasn't your fault, but you couldn't shake the feeling of guilt.

When you caught Hassan, you thought that would've atoned for their deaths, but you couldn't even keep him.

They died for nothing.

"Whoa thir, bonnie. Ye think much harder and you'll 'ave steam comin' outta yer ears," Soap smiled, somehow in front of you.

"Mierda!" You exclaimed, eyes wide as your instinct took over, punching something that fell like a brick wall.

'Where the fuck did he come from?!'

He groaned, holding his side, "You hit...fuckin' hard."

"Fuck, I'm sorry," you winced, guiltily, as you moved closer to inspect it, carefully moving his hand.

"It was just so dark and you scared the hell outta me."

You lifted up his tank top, trying your best to check for a forming bruise in the dim light.

It didn't look too bad, especially for you punching him so hard.

But that was probably because he was so ripped, the muscle absorbed the fucking hit.

'Jesus Christ...'

"Was thinkin' of tellin' you a joke aboot how much you take ma breath away, but I think yer a lil' preoccupied at th'moment," he looked down at you, a cocky grin spreading on his lips at your staring.

You scoffed, cheeks burning as you roughly pulled his shirt down, taking a step back.

"What're you doing out of bed, Sergeant?" You asked, unamused, as you crossed your arms at your chest.

He smiled, your words pretty much going in one ear and out the other as he got the chance to get a good look at you.

And fuck......a look you were.

You exchanged the the tac gear and cargos for a tank top and shorts, your curves now on display quite nicely.

...

His words.

"Couldn't sleep, so I went out tah get th'lay o' th'land," he answered, cocking a brow, "Whit were you doin' out 'ere all by yerself?"

You sighed, commending yourself for even being able to understand him so far.

"I needed some air, so I went on a walk. And speaking of..." You started up your pace from before, stepping around the large man to continue your stroll.

You caught him by surprise, but he quickly turned around, catching up to walk in step with you.

"Got somethin' oan yer mind, hen?" He asked, "Y'know am a great ear."

...

'So much for understanding...'

"What is hen?" You cocked a brow, confused, "You callin' me a chicken?"

His chest rumbled with a soft laugh, before his eyes found yours again.

"No, am not callin' you a chicken," he assured with a smile, "Hen's whot you call a nice woman...or at least whot we called 'em back 'ome."

"Escocia?" You asked, thoughtlessly switching to Spanish.

He grinned, happy to finally understand something in the foreign language.

And happy to hear you speak it.

"Scotland, yeah," he nodded.

He wanted to incorporate some of your language in the conversation since you asked about his, but he just knew he was gonna fuck up the pronunciation.

"I think ca-bro-n s'a sort o' similar thing in Spanish."

...

You couldn't help but chuckle, quickly trying to muffle it to be polite.

Was he serious?

'Adorable...'

"Whot's so funny?" He asked, confused, and slightly worried.

Shit.

He fucked it up.

"What do you think cabrón means, Soap?" You managed to smile through your laughter, the sight making something weight in his stomach.

"You wer sayin' it oan th'field. I thought it wos the word fur a man," he answered, almost at a pout.

"Hombre means man, cabrón means bastard," you clarified, holding back your giggles, "I was saying it on the field because I was calling the army a bunch of fucking bastards."

His eyes went wide, everything starting to make sense.

He was an idiot.

"I feel lek a numpty," he chuckled, shaking his head.

You smiled, subtly shifting your sights ahead so you wouldn't get caught staring.

Something about this man was so endearing, yet you couldn't put your finger on exactly what.

And, no matter how much you hated to say it, you could already see yourself spending more time with him.

"If you want, I can teach you a couple of words in Spanish," you started, turning to him sincerely.

"Enough to get you by, at least. And then in return, you can show me some Scottish words."

Realizing how it sounded, you quickly cleared your throat, turning on your professional voice to try and cover it up.

"So we can communicate better...mission-wise, of course."

But it was too late.

Soap's face was already lit up like a Christmas tree.

"I'd luv nothin' more," he smiled, looking into your eyes intensely.

The air went still, and you could feel a sudden building tension, one that grew larger and larger the longer you two shared each other's gaze.

Cheeks burning, you turned away, not wanting to see where that road would've taken you.

"All right, then," you sighed, "When should we begin?"

He smirked, giving you a polite shrug.

"No time lek th'present..."

"𝐋𝐀 Casa de Sin Nombre?" Soap asked as he looked down at the large mansion below, handing over the binoculars to Graves.

"No," you shook your head, "One of his Lugartenientes."

"A cartel lieutenant?" He corrected.

You smiled, giving him a nod of approval.

"Estás aprendiendo," you commended.

'And that was only after two days...'

You, Soap, Ghost, and Graves stood on the rooftop of a far away building, scouting the security of the mansion.

And by the looks of it, they were pulling no punches.

"My sources tell me all the VIPs in Las Almas will be there tonight. Some are invited, others are..."

"Volun-told...?" Graves finished.

"Pretty much," you agreed.

He nodded, resting his hands on his vest, "What's the meeting about?"

"Nosotros," you sighed, "Las Almas is burning, and they wanna know who lit the fire."

"Sin Nombre will be there, yeah?" Ghost asked, turning to you.

"No guarantees," you stated honestly, "But this is our best shot."

"Then we take it," Graves chimed, "I got enough Shadows here to take over the whole damn country."

You furrowed your eyebrows at the comment, snapping your head over to him.

"I would prefer if you didn't..." You warned, tone icy.

He sighed, putting his hands up in surrender.

"I'm just sayin', sugar...one house shouldn't be a problem."

"We need Sin Nombre alive," Ghost reminded.

"Then we need to meet him," Graves suggested, reluctantly.

"How?" Soap asked.

"Give 'em what they want," Graves stated, "Intel. They wanna know who's here? Let's tell 'em."

"In person?" You cocked a brow, skeptical.

"Correcto," he nodded, "Get one of us inside, find the boss...an' roll him up."

"A'll do it," Soap volunteered, brows furrowed.

"Estás un gringo," you dismissed, "You go in there, and they'll kill you."

"A'll take ma chances," he assured, turning to you.

He was already set on the idea the moment it came into his head, and he wanted you to know he could do this.

"We came 'ere tah stop a missile, let's stop it. I'll offer intel for a meet with Sin Nombre. And if he's there, we pounce."

You were backed against a wall.

And so far, it seemed like there was no other option.

'Tiene un deseo muerte...'

"Fine," you sighed, resting a hand on his shoulder, "But once you make it in, you'll need eyes and ears. So I'll go with you."

"I'll take over-watch," Ghost agreed, "Shadow circles the target in a helo."

"Rodger that," Graves nodded, suddenly rummaging through his breast-pocket.

In it was a patch with Shadow Company's insignia, which he handed to Soap.

"They are going to want proof...show 'em this."

Soap nodded, the two shaking has before Graves turned to walk off.

"Call me when you need me," he nodded, "And let's gear up and get after it."

"𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 on two armed at the front door," Ghost reported over comms, coincidentally, as you finished taking out the two on the inside.

"(y/n), how ya doin'?" Graves asked, slightly broken up by static.

"Estoy interior," you whispered.

"Goddamn," he approved, only understanding what you said through the cognate, "How'd you do that?"

"Violently," you grunted as you stowed the bodies behind a large vase, not wanting anyone who passed by to become suspicious of the two.

Just then, you heard a silenced gunshot from outside, your head snapping to the door.

"Visual on Soap," Ghost stated.

"Moment o' truth," Graves sighed.

"They see him?" You asked, nervous.

This could go very bad, very fast if he wasn't careful.

"They do now..."

The following silence had to have been the longest few seconds of your life.

You could practically feel your heart beating in your ears.

"......They're bringin' him in."

'Gracias a Dios.'

"Kid's got sand," Graves added.

"I'm gonna take position at the elevator. See you all on the other side. Out here," you stated, quickly moving to stand by the elevator, taking the position of one of the men you killed.

And as if on cue, the guards burst in through the doors, dragging Soap over to you.

"Dónde está el otro tipo?" One of them gruffly asked you, noticing that your "partner" was missing.

"El cabrón necesitaba el baño," you answered without a beat.

You noticed Soap's shoulders visibly relax at the sound of your voice, yet you couldn't do anything but hope the guards wouldn't notice.

You would have to talk to him about that later.

"Qué le jodan," he rudely scoffed, shoving Soap ahead and into you, "Toma a este gringo y se lo enseñas a Diego."

"Entendido," you forced out, biting back a sharp remark as you led the Scot into the elevator.

You pressed the button to shut the door, and then the one to the lowest floor, before taking a quick breath of relief.

'Esta misión me está quitando años de la vida...'

"Soap..." you pulled the bag off his head, his eyes going wide now that his suspicion was confirmed.

"(y/n)? How did you-?" "No time. You need to listen," you dismissed, quickly grabbing his cheeks, ensuring his attention stayed on you.

He was completely taken aback, already feeling the tips of his ears burning like he was a teenager again.

But he kept his mouth shut, doing as you said and listening intently.

"You give them good intel in there. Don't lie, tell them everything they want to know, or you will die here."

"Everythin'?" He asked, surprised.

"Everything," you firmly nodded, "Mexican Special Forces. American PMCs. Shadow Company. Phillip Graves. All truth."

He looked into your eyes, searching for any sort of insincerity, or falter in resolve.

But there was none.

"Even your name?"

You hesitated, about to answer when the elevator suddenly rang.

You quickly let go of him, turning as the door opened to be met by Diego.

One of El Sin Nombre's top sicarios.

Diego chuckled, getting a good look at the Scot.

"Este es?" He asked with a smirk, turning to you.

"Si, señor," you nodded.

He turned to face Soap, his smirk falling.

"You got a name, hawk?"

"They call me Soap."

"Qué coño se llama jabón?" Diego's chuckle turned into a laugh, a mocking one, "Let's go."

"I wanna see El Sin Nombre," Soap stated firmly.

Diego scoffed, turing to you to see if he was hearing right, "Quiere ver al jefe..."

He suddenly grabbed Soap by the collar, roughly pulling him in.

Your stomach dropped to your feet, and you discreetly hovered your hand over your gun, just in case.

Missiles be damned, you weren't gonna lose another comrade for nothing.

"You're only alive because you may have some information. And it better be good, güero, or I'm going to scalp that 'hawk off your fuckin' head."

Roughly, Diego let go of him, turning to walk down the hall.

"Get the fuck out of my elevator."

And just as Soap was about to leave, you brushed your hand with his, hoping you'd offer some comfort.

"Buena suerte, Soap," you whispered, staying back.

He smiled, giving you a firm nod, "A'll be okay."

You nodded back, shutting the doors of the elevator and taking a deep sigh, resting your back on the wall.

'I pray this works...'

𝐓𝐇𝐄 wait for Soap to return felt like eternity, and with every passing minute, you could feel the fear grow.

You were still on elevator duty, but now you guarded the one leading to the penthouse, as per the plan to exfil through the roof.

But with nothing to distract you, you could only think of the million ways the plan could go south.

'What's taking them so damn long?'

Fifteen minutes turned to twenty, and you began to lose your head.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck...." You cursed under your breath.

You would have to call in to Ghost soon.

"C'mon, Soap..."

And as if an answer to your prayers, the elevator rang opening to reveal Diego and Soap, the Scotsman still in one piece.

"This is where you wait...Soap," Diego shoved the man out the elevator, then turned to you, "Estaré en la ofrenda. Sin interrupciones."

"Si, señor," you nodded, grabbing Soap and pushing him up against the window, patting him down.

Once you were sure the elevator doors had closed and left, you dropped your shoulders.

"You're alive," you smiled, turning to him.

"(y/n)," he smiled back, "You too, hen."

He looked down, a smirk growing on his face as he noticed you were still mindlessly patting him down.

"Y'know," he grinned, "If ye wanted an excuse tah touch me, all ye 'ad to do was ask," he teased.

You scoffed, pushing him away and rolling your eyes, the glow of your cheeks hidden by your mask.

"Pendejo."

He chuckled, giving you a firm pat on the shoulder before getting back to the plan.

"El Sin Nombre's in the penthouse. Third floor," he reported.

"We'll need a keycard."

"Diego has it."

"Then you know what you gotta do," you slipped him a knife, which was quite large.

"Sweet."

"And this," you pulled out a mask, like yours but white, and handed it to him.

"Why a mask?" He asked, confused.

"Some people can't be seen with the cartel," you answered, "Comms are already hooked in."

You opened your channel.

"Radio check?"

"Got you," he affirmed.

"You're good. Let's head out," you turned, starting down the hallway, "Ghost, we're in."

"What've you got?" He asked.

"El Sin Nombre is in the penthouse. Third floor," Soap reported.

"Elevator's a straight shot. All we need is Diego's keycard," you added.

"Where's Diego?" Ghost asked.

"The ofrenda. Second floor," you answered, turning the corner that let to the outside deck, "Seein' anything, Lieutenant?"

"If you can scout a way to the roof, there's access to the penthouse," he replied.

"I'm headed upstairs either way," Soap chimed.

"Cuidado..." You warned, "You get caught there, or in the garage, guards'll shoot on sight."

"What's in the garage?"

"No idea," you shrugged, "But it's important to Diego."

"Find El Sin Nombre and let's get this done. Out here," Ghost called out

"𝐖𝐄'𝐑𝐄 made, Soap!" You exclaimed in the comms, the sound of sirens overwhelming your voice, "Get your culo to the elevator, now!"

You peeked around the corner, getting eyes on three guards all heading your way.

So you quickly dropped them, turning back towards the hallway to see Soap incoming.

He'd managed to take out Diego and grab the key-card, but a couple of nosy guards came across the mess and caused a commotion.

Siccing the entire mansion on you two.

Soap ran past you and into the elevator, scanning the card while you covered his six.

"Ts'good, bonnie! Get in 'ere!" He hurried, holding the doors.

You turned around without skipping a beat, sliding in the elevator and letting him shut the door.

The two of you panted, taking the moment to catch your breaths,

It had been a long night.

"'ere we go," Soap sighed, watching the floor number on the panel climb.

"This is it," you smiled, the excitement in your stomach climbing the nearer you drew, "For years, El Sin Nombre corrupted this city, dragging it to hell."

You turned to Soap, your face more determined than he's ever seen.

"Tonight, we take it back."

He grinned, a sudden sense of pride taking him.

"Hace o muerte," he agreed, holding his gun at the ready as the elevator rang, its door opening.

"Órale!" you led, leaning back on a wall and checking the hallway, "Security checkpoint's up ahead!"

"How do we get through?" Soap asked, staying tight to your side.

"Trust me," you assured as the two of you reached the hallway, a door being the only exit.

You knocked loudly, switching on the safety of your gun.

"Qué carajo es esto?!" A man loudly shouted from the other side.

"Ese pedaso de mierda que buscamos!" You shouted back.

Reluctantly, the door opened, and you were quick to grab the man on the other side, slamming him up against the wall.

Using your gun, you pistol whipped him...and pistol whipped him...and pistol whipped him...and pistol whipped him...until he finally fell into a bloody, unconscious heap.

Soap was slightly surprised, especially when you switched off your safety and entered the room as if you didn't just beat a man to sleep.

'Holy shite...'

"Remind me never tah get on yer bad side, bonnie," he joked, following you in.

"Stay on my good and you won't have to worry," you teased, crouching next to a larger door within the office.

Tucking away your gun, you grabbed your camera out of your pocket, sliding it under the door to get eyes and ears inside.

"Let's put a name to the nameless," Soap smirked, pulling out the device to view the footage.

And when the static faded, all that could be seen was Valeria Garza, and some unidentified men around that called her Sin Nombre.

...

Valeria Garza.

'WHAT THE FUCK?!'

Your face was one of disbelief, but also anger, white, hot rage starting to seep through every pore.

"Whot's wrong, (y/n)?" Soap asked, your sudden and drastic change in emotion worrisome, "Whadid you see?"

"We have to move," you stated curtly, tapping into comms, "Graves, Sin Nombre is posing as a female sicaria. We're moving in. You set?"

"Check."

"Ghost?"

"Ready."

You turned to Soap as you stood up, face dead serious.

"Take her alive."

And without warning, you kicked open the door, guns blazing as you took out two of the guards.

You watched her escape out the back, and ran after her while Soap took care of the other two henches.

Her path led you to the balcony outside, where a ladder to the roof resided.

'She must've gone up it.'

"Bitch thinks she can get away from me..." You cursed, quickly ripping off your mask before climbing it.

"Down! Get down, now!" Graves ordered over the helo's intercom, circling the roof.

"No me arrodillo parra nadie, cabrón!" She shouted.

"Una bala te hará arrodillar," Graves threatened in his broken Spanish.

And Valeria, begrudgingly, complied, lowering to her knees and placing her hands behind her head.

"Ground team, you're clear to move in."

You and Soap walked over, the Scot detaining her while she stared at you, a shit-eating grin on her face.

"El Sin Nombre..." Soap tutted, forcing her hands behind her back.

"Me llamo Valeria," she bluntly corrected.

"Hiding in plain sight."

"Hiding?" She scoffed with a smile, "Estoy en todas partes, soldado."

Graves suddenly walked over, donning his own smirk.

"That's good. So are we," a Shadow came over, taking Valeria off Soap's hands and pulling her towards the helo, "Let's go."

But at its door, she turned around, shooting you the sharpest glare she could, your fists clenching in pure anger.

"Aye...(y/n)," Soap chimed, patting your shoulders with pride, "Qué pasa?"

You glared at the spot where she once stood, presence still there and mocking you.

"Valeria.......I know her."

#cod #call of duty #cod mwii #soap cod #cod mw2 #call of duty mw2 #soap mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap #soap x reader #johnny #johnny x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish #soap mactavish x reader

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moonglittering · 2 years ago

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If I'm allowed, I'm gonna throw in my two cents too. I'll be brief because I basically agree with everything Locke said, and I don't want to steal their thunder, especially since they put it down wonderfully.

I think that honesty is fundamental when it comes to OOC communication. Without it, things can easily get strained and uncomfortable, there can be easily avoidable misunderstandings and this turns something that's supposed to be fun into a chore or a minefield. So being upfront is the easiest, best way to guarantee a good time to all parties involved.

Now, I understand that talking to people isn't easy. I have a lot of social anxiety, which makes me real bad at reaching out first, and I know that this is a very common issue. Plus, some people don't really wish to make friends with some or all of their writing partners, which is fair. It's a personal choice. However, I think that everyone should make an effort to reach out when a problem starts to appear. It's much easier to correct a mistake than to face a whole bunch of problems that have been born out of issued that have been piling up for months. Not to mention that it's less likely for feelings to get hurt in a serious way, if you're honest since the start.

I had some bad experiences in the past. I won't go into details, but let's say that, if the other person had been upfront instead of letting me wonder about what I was doing wrong, it would have spared me months of doubts and bad feelings over being basically dumped by someone I thought was my friend. I would have rather have them come to me and tell me straight out what their issue was, and who knows, maybe we could have fixed it. They didn't, and that ship is long sailed now.

So, if I had to pick? Better a discussion, even if heated, and having someone being a little too harsh with their wording that having said person going behind my back and not telling me anything, with all the consequences of the case.

i already told you this story in private but omg sometimes being upfront blows up in ur face too. like with that... one person i confronted on how their muse was completely heinous to vi in a way i wasnt comfortable with and lgfjglkf. lmaaaao. but sometimes it's the risk one has to take!! and it rly sucks but... hey... that's life!! and if someone gets mad over ur boundaries u wouldve been better off w.out them in the first place.

anyway @countlessrealities no more of my dumb commentary needed because this is tea, scotty. this is scottea.

#🌙 MAIN! IT'S YOUR LOCAL PRETTY BOY MOON DEITY.#countlessrealities #/ tumblr user countlessrealities aka the sage aka the truth told us... the truth.

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chalkrevelations · 2 years ago

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So, how we feeling Vegaspete Nation? Because I don’t know about all y’all, but I’m still completely normal about Vegas and Pete and their sex scene and am in no way re-watching it at least half a dozen times a day in a feral fugue state. COMPLETELY NORMAL.

I suspect this can’t be contained in a single post, but for now, here’s just some of the things that make me feral about this scene:

1. The way they make sure to show us the tattoo, to emphasize that message, no legacy is so rich as honesty, right up front, just as they��re getting into it, finally all masks off, all armor off. Oh, Vegas tried to put that mask back on, for sure – they even explicitly mark this with the moment he wipes the tears off his face, like he’s almost literally pulling a mask back on, and you can see him put up his armor just before he looks up at Pete, before he goes on the attack again, in a way that’s always been guaranteed to make Pete cringe away from him before this, when Pete will stand his ground against violence, and it’s maybe his last effort to give Pete the option to escape, this attempt to push him away. But then Pete ends up grabbing him and kissing the mask right back off his face. I feel like maybe you weren’t actually expecting that, Vegas, didn’t think you’d ever get it. After all, everyone and everything leaves you. (Or dies, which. Hm. Are we going to see how fear of Pete’s possible death influences your actions at any upcoming point?)

2. The way Vegas, that motherfucker, always always goes me one better than I expect. Before this aired, if you had asked me what I wanted out of my dream Vegaspete sex scene, two of the key things I would have told you were face-to-face and Vegas going down on Pete. I was just thinking a BJ would be fine and acceptable, and then that motherfucker gets on his knees behind Pete and eats him out so good he has Pete licking his own arm. I can’t. I CANNOT. I shrieked and slapped both hands over my mouth, and they were only getting started.

3. Pete wrapping those chains around his own gorgeous wrists and hanging on for dear life as Vegas eats him out so good he has Pete licking his own arm. Pete, baby. DO NOT let this man get away. Not if his tongue is that talented.

4. Face-to-face. Face-to-face. Watching each other, seeing each other the whole time, just like they’ve been gradually seeing and learning each other in the whole lead-up to this.

5. The whole thing is just stunningly intimate. And I emphasize both those words for a reason. Because it’s almost more intimate than it is sexual – no, you know what? I’m going to actually stake out that ground and make a stand on it. It IS even more intimate than it is sexual. And it continues to – even after watching it literally half a dozen times a day, every day, since it first aired – leave me stunned every time I watch it. And that’s the effect of so many many small choices that add up, like slowing it down, which draws everything out, as well as contributing to a fever-haze that turns up the temperature on it. Like having Vegas, who could so easily continue to stay standing above Pete as he fucks him, instead lying fully down on him, pressing as much of himself as close as he possibly can get, like he can get even closer than being inside Pete, like he can somehow make them merge into one, so that every feeling, sound, scent, taste, is heightened, is not only fully engaged but overwhelming, so that there’s nothing outside the two of them. Like the way Vegas is always either looking at Pete’s face or has his own face tucked into Pete’s neck, keeping his focus narrowed to Pete, so that Pete becomes his entire world. The kisses, my god, the kisses, and how soft they are, and how Vegas kisses Pete repeatedly, and how gd tender he is, and how Pete pushes up into the kisses like he’s savoring them, in comparison to the way he just laid there for the pill.

6. What it must mean to Vegas, when Pete surrenders control to him. He’s just finished telling Pete what a fuckup he is, always second-best, how he can never manage to succeed or do anything right, how everything he touches dies, and Pete looks up at him, no masks, and tells him, I trust you, you’re not incompetent, I believe you can do this, you can take care of me, you can give me what I need - wordlessly, just by handing him that rope. No fucking wonder Vegas kissed Pete’s hands like the most precious thing in the world had just been placed into his own hands. Also, that was a challenge from Pete, and Vegas rose to meet it beautifully.

7. OK, wait, I’m not even done with that moment yet. I have to. Just. Hold on and let me go take a walk around the block for a minute to TRY TO WORK OFF SOME OF THIS MF’ING HIGH so I can try to be coherent … OK, just the pure fucking fact of Pete offering up his wrists to be bound, and then Vegas – that motherfucker once again going me one better than I ever, ever expected – pressing a kiss to Pete’s knuckles not just in pleasure, not just in reassurance, but in WORSHIP. That moment, more than anything else in this scene – although also everything else about Vegas in this scene – confirmed for me that, as I’ve suspected since the discussion @black-flame-rose and I had about his Santa Muerte shrine, Vegas treats actual BDSM activity not only as separate from his torture and wetwork, but as sacred.

8. Meanwhile, can we talk about Build for a minute? Let’s talk about Build for a minute. I don’t know wtf kind of filters and lighting they’re using to film him for this, because sure, he’s an attractive guy, but Pete in this scene, like the pill scene, is almost otherworldly. I really think they’re shooting him differently somehow than they are for run-of-the-mill Pete scenes (I mean, for whatever value of “run-of-the-mill” a regular Pete scene can be). But I also think some of it is actually Build and his acting, something about the way he’s using his face and expressions in moments when Pete is just watching Vegas, or just talking to Vegas, utterly focused on Vegas, alone with Vegas, whether that’s literal or the world has narrowed to just the two of them, like in the face-off scene at the end of Ep 10, when the minor family goons might as well not have even been in the room – when Build is showing us Pete without his mask. And just like the face-off scene at the end of Ep 10, I can’t manage to look away from him here. I have to rewind and re-watch to remind myself to look at Bible – at Bible. And I think that’s at least partially intentional, I do think Pete’s the focus of this scene, they’ve done a lot to make sure our attention is just as focused on him as Vegas’s attention is, lighting Build’s face and putting him in a lot of direct shots, while they keep Bible shaded, or in silhouette, and halfway – or more – out of frame, or the focus of a lot of the off-kilter shots. And that could make Vegas come across as creepy – maybe it’s supposed to come across as sorta creepy? This faceless man in the shadows – if it wasn’t for how attentive and tender and worshipful Vegas is at every single point of this, once Pete kisses him and pulls off that mask, but particularly once Pete offers himself up along with that rope. Every bit of Vegas’s attention is on Pete throughout this scene, constantly checking in – not verbally, but studying his face, his expressions, the way his body moves, the way he responds to the kisses Vegas keeps going back to – god, the kisses, we only kiss people we like, Pete, and you keep chasing his kisses.

9. Also, let me just pull this out as its own special mention: The tiny, momentary look of amazed pleasure Pete gives Vegas specifically at 30:00, as Vegas gets his rhythm going.

10. Anyway, further to a lot of those off-kilter shots - along with the music they chose and the continued use of the obviously theatrical lighting – I mean, even in Vegas’s at-home torture dungeon, they made an attempt at making the lighting look diagetic, but there’s not even a thought of that here in the bedroom at Torture Sex Dungeon South, which heightens the feeling that none of this is real, it is (like, hah, sacred space) a time out of time and a space out of space, its own little bubble where Vegas and Pete have been constructing their own reality, where the normal rules and roles and expectations don’t apply, where they’ve slowly chipped away at all those things until they’re standing figuratively as well as literally (now) naked in front of each other – and now I’ve lost track of what I was saying. What was I even saying? Oh, so these off-kilter shots, the music, the lighting – they give this an even more heightened sense of unreality, of being drunk or drugged, of being stoned off your ass on endorphins, the way Pete obviously is when he’s at the point of licking his own arm, like they’re fucking in the middle of their own private rave or something. Plus, again, they’ve slowed the action down, which also heightens the feeling of unreality – as well as a vague sense of unease that … OK. I’ve seen people refer to these two as a potential Hades/Persephone story, and I don’t know that this maps perfectly, but this scene? Yeah. I’ve done a lot of thinking about Hades and Persephone and the various iterations of their mythos, and one of the key ways I approach their traditional story is as a coming of age story. Ann Suter, in The Narcissus and the Pomegranate, talks about that approach (among others) and points out that everything was set in motion by Persephone reaching out to pluck that flower. And I’ve thought a lot about that as a metaphor for the way, when we’re teenaged girls, we’re so ready to be grown-up, we’re reaching out for it in so many different ways, and that can make us do a lot of things that are daring, and dangerous, and objectively pretty damn dumb, and can get us in way over our heads, into situations that we never expected, new situations that are just as scary as they may be exhilarating, that could turn out badly but that sometimes manage to help us unlock new discoveries about ourselves and the world around us, and this scene captures that feeling - of reaching out for something that you think you want, of falling into something half-unexpected that you think you’re ready for, but where you end up halfway over your head, and it’s scary and dangerous and exhilarating and all you can do is ride it through - better than almost anything I’ve ever seen before.

11. Also re: a lot of the off-kilter shots, I think it’s an interesting way to fuck with traditional expectations of how power works in a situation like this, and the ways that’s usually represented visually - the almost swirling, restless motion of the camera that somehow never feels choppy even with the myriad changing angles captures power flow back and forth. I feel like the last time we see anything approaching a traditional power framing is the point at which Pete is sitting on the bed, looking up at Vegas and giving him the rope, and Vegas is standing above Pete taking it. After that, we naturally get some shots in which he’s on top of Pete, but I feel like most of the more traditional camerawork with Vegas on top of/above Pete takes place during the point where he’s plastered himself to Pete in an attempt to crawl inside him, with the heightened intimacy they build being the overwhelming effect of those shots. By contrast, I feel like they do a LOT of the very off-kilter stuff at the points when Vegas is still standing, and I’m particularly interested in the shots where Vegas would normally look most dominant and potentially threatening, backlit and mainly in silhouette, standing between the spread legs of a reclining, naked, bound Pete as Vegas pushes down his own pants and then again as he puts on the condom. These two shots are the most pronounced off-kilter ones, literally sideways, in a way that ensures that Vegas and Pete are essentially presented horizontally, on the same level. We get a more traditional framing in a third shot as Vegas pushes into Pete, but he’s already leaning over Pete on his way to lying on top of him in that shot, so he’s not standing above him in quite the same way he is in the other two shots in this sequence.

12. Finally, nrgh. The way Vegas’s hands cradle Pete’s face and his arms during this, the way that mirrors the way Pete’s thighs cradle Vegas’s flanks and the way not only the bondage they’ve got Pete in but also the slowed-down motion of the shots turn Vegas’s thrusts into more of a rocking motion, so they’re just rocking together, suspended in their own little cocoon of reality that’s more real than actual reality, with its masks and its roles and its expectations, but also totally separate from actual reality.

I thought they’d killed me before this, but it turns out that was only target practice.

#vegas theerapanyakul #pete phongsakorn #vegaspete #kinnporsche #liveblogging ep 12 i guess #how we feeling vegaspete nation?

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gladerwolfstarkimagines · 3 years ago

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Imagine being Sokka and Katara’s cousin and having a complicated romantic relationship with Zuko.

Your cousin Sokka had initially set you up with Zuko because he figured the firelord needed some fun and you were exactly that. You weren’t interested in titles or riches you were just an infectious whirlwind of carefree energy. He figured Zuko could learn something from you and so arranged the date.

He could tell by how light Zuko walked into the room the next day that his plan had worked and he liked seeing the positive effect you were having on Zuko. The pressures of the throne had really been weighing down on him and you helped him to get some much-needed freedom and connect with his non-Firelord side....however it always had a way of coming back.

Zuko loved dating you but he’d gotten pressure from every single fire nation noblemen on the council to break up with you. They disliked you because you were from the water tribe so many viewed you as an outsider trying to influence the fire nation. Zuko’s reign was still so new and with rebellions breaking out more frequently Zuko agreed. He had to put his country first even if that meant losing you. One thing Zuko hadn’t realised however was you had a very different view of your relationship...for one thing you didn’t even realise you were in one with the Firelord.

Your POV

Zuko was always pretty tense but you noticed tonight he was even more stressed and quiet. You tried to make conversation but he was sombre throughout dinner and when you’d finished he put his cutlery down and looked across at you. “Y/n I need to speak to you”. You nodded folding your arm “sure, what’s wrong?”. Zuko sighed "Y/n i’ve really enjoyed our time together but i...have to break up with you, I can’t see you anymore". You blinked surprised, one at Zuko’s honesty and two at the news you had apparently been dating the Firelord. You and Zuko weren’t dating or even close to dating, in your mind you’d just been having fun and sure you were definitely not just friends but you also didn’t think you were boyfriend/girlfriend. Regardless of what the label was you quickly realised what Zuko was telling you and it made a heavy weight settle in your stomach. Whatever this between you was...it made you sad to think it would be ending. "You do?" you asked remaining composed and Zuko nodded. "It’s nothing to do with you it’s me, being firelord i don’t have the time for dating or fun, i don’t think it’s fair to keep this going when I can’t guarantee i’ll always be able to give you my attention". You nodded your head "that sounds fair, thank you for thinking of that". "No problem" Zuko said smiling sadly and you nodded awkwardly. “I’ll be going then” and you went to walk away when he spoke again "but i really enjoyed our time together y/n, i really did". You smiled "me too, you’re pretty fun for a royal" and bowed "see you around firelord” and you walked away.

Zuko’s POV

You walked out of the room and Zuko sighed. He felt a mix between relief and sadness. That had gone a lot easier than he thought it would and that should be a good thing but it didn’t feel that way. A part of Zuko had wanted you to argue with him or to dig to find the real reason he was breaking it off. He knew if you’d have challenged him in even the slightest way he’d have told you the truth and taken back what he’d said but you had just agreed and let it go without a fight. Zuko couldn’t help feeling disappointed and a little hurt. You remained on his mind the rest of the day and Zuko couldn’t stop wondering about your reaction. He was sat with your cousin Sokka when he decided to bring you up. "Just so you know I’ve ended things with y/n" Zuko explained and Sokka blinked "i’m sorry what?". "I know i should’ve warned you seeing as she’s your cousin...i’m sorry". Sokka shook his head "no i’m confused how do you think you were dating her". Zuko blinked "what do you mean? You literally set us up". "I introduced you because i thought y/n could make you loosen up a bit but Zuko y/n doesn’t date". Zuko blinked "but we hung our several times and...kissed and stuff". Sokka sighed "oh god as gross as this is to have to explain about my cousin...Zuko that doesn’t mean you were dating". "It doesn’t?”. Sokka sighed "okay here’s what you need to know about my cousin, she grew up in a town that was heavily sexist and married girls off at young ages, so as times started to change she leapt at the new opportunities. She refused to ever date anyone, it’s too much commitment and so instead she has fun with people, typically for short periods of time and then she flutters away, usually leaving a broken heart or two". Zuko blinked "but we were dating!". "Did you ever agree to make it exclusive?" Sokka asked. Zuko shook his head "well not in words". "Did you ever ask her to be your girlfriend?". "No but i thought it was implied". "Did you ever call her your girlfriend then?". "No i...it was new i didn’t want to come on too strong" Zuko sighed. Sokka patted his back "and there’s the broken heart". "I’m not heartbroken just confused! Why did she let me break up with her if we weren’t even dating?". "Well breakups are awkward, imagine having to explain to someone in the middle of one, that you're not even dating, i bet she did it just to spare your feelings". As soon as those words left his mouth Sokka regretted it. "No i didn’t mean that...i meant". Zuko stood up angrily "it appears i need to find your cousin".

Zuko was furious. He felt like he’d been living two different lives this whole time and that had caused so much stress. One half of him was the teenager who wanted fun, the freedom to go on dates and just be careless. Then the other half of him was the Firelord who knew he had to be responsible. He knew all the elder nobles thought he was too irresponsible and all his friends thought him too boring and conventional. He liked you because you opened him up to new things and made him feel normal. Not too young or too formal, just right, you made him feel valid.

But he’d sacrificed all that for the “greater good” and now not only was he regretting his decision he was also furious because apparently he wasn’t anything to you anyway. The thing he’d struggled so much with, you weren’t even aware of.

Zuko walked into the large living room the gang had taken to lounging in and saw you sat with Haru. He felt his temper rise as Sokka’s words filled his mind. How you broke hearts and moved on instantly. You laughed at something Haru said and Zuko’s eyes narrowed. He really meant nothing to you. Zuko stalked across the room and came to stand in front of you both. Haru jumped "Firelord Zuko" but you took your time glancing at him. You eventually raised your eyes to his and nodded "Firelord Zuko". Zuko tensed "y/n we need to talk". "Is it urgent because....". "It is, now...please" Zuko said and he walked away.

Your POV

You blinked as Zuko stormed away and apologised to Haru before following him. You had no idea why Zuko wanted to speak to you, surely everything was wrapped up now you were done but he seemed so angry. You’d heard about this famous fire nation temper but you’d never seen it on Zuko and part of you was a little impressed. You liked fire benders for that reason precisely, their inner fire and passion but Zuko had been completely composed and calm the whole time you’d know him. Not now though.

You followed Zuko into a room and he shut the door. "Zuko what’s wrong?" you asked and he spun to face you rapidly. "What’s wrong?" he cried "why did you let me break up with you and say all that rubbish if I meant nothing to you?". You paused "who says you mean nothing to me?". "Sokka!" Zuko cried "he explained how you flit from person to person, never dating them just having fun and how you move onto your next person when you get bored. We were never dating, why didn’t you correct me?". You shrugged "i... I didn't want to be rude, but Zuko I wasn’t just waiting to flit from you to someone else". "Ow yeah, Haru’s just a coincidence?". "You broke up with me! Why are you angry even if something was going on with Haru?". "Because i didn’t want to break up with you y/n" Zuko explained "i did it because i had to and it was a really tough decision for me to make. It felt like a big sacrifice to me and then to find out you didn’t even think twice about me" Zuko said rapidly before staring at the floor almost deflated. "Zuko i do think about you" you said softly "whatever Sokka said isn’t completely true. Yes i don’t like putting labels on things but that doesn’t mean i don’t care or feel the same things anyone does at the start of something. I think the reason i move on or flit around so quickly as you said is because i move on as soon as I start feeling things, i don’t like being vulnerable so me not thinking of you as my boyfriend wasn’t because I didn’t care about you, it was more to protect me from the opposite". "So you do like me?" Zuko asked and you took a breath. "I do...a lot". Zuko rushed forwards hastily and kissed you. You kissed him back wrapping your arms around his neck before you paused "but wait...i thought you said you literally weren’t allowed to do this". Zuko nodded but didn’t remove his hands from your waist "i did, as Firelord i’m expected to behave dignified and composed all the time, i’m not supposed to get emotional or act irresponsibly for example by dating an unconventional water tribe girl" Zuko smiled "but i don’t care! I don’t care if they disapprove! I don’t care if we’re boyfriend and girlfriend or it’s just casual, all i know is i really like you and really really want to kiss you". You smiled and rehooked your arm around his neck "then kiss me".

Zuko was obedient and kissed you passionately before moving onto your neck. You were both surprised and pleasantly fascinated at Zuko’s confidence. Usually he was shy and kissed you quickly before moving away but now....now he was confident and purposeful with each touch. It was very attractive and you suddenly saw why the fire nation had such a strong reputation. Zuko caught the look in your eye and smiled "if you want we can....go to my room?". You smiled "lead the way”. Zuko stepped towards the door so quickly he knocked a table over but he just tugged you past it "leave it, it can stay that way for all i care right now" he muttered and you laughed at how spontaneous he was being. It was nice to see him let his hair down and you grinned as he pulled you through the fire nation halls hastily. He yanked his door open before pulling you inside and slamming the door. Trapping you on the other side. "Hmm i don’t think running through the hall is dignified Firelord Zuko". Zuko shrugged "neither is this" and began to kiss you again.

***

You laid side by side and Zuko seemed very relaxed but you were wondering about something. "Should I be going...am i even allowed to stay here in your room overnight? Doesn’t it break some century old fire nation tradition?" you asked. You’d never been in Zuko’s room before and only now did it really hit you he was the Firelord with a whole country on his shoulders and hundreds of advisors all monitoring his every move. If they’d gotten so angry at you for spending time together surely the nobles would be furious at you spending the night in his quarters? Zuko however did not care. "Of course you can” he said immediately “no servants will bother us and my guards will know to leave so we can be alone...of course that’s if you want to? If you don’t want to stay the night...". “Are you kidding me? And miss sleeping in these silk masterpieces?" you asked wriggling against the royal bedding. Zuko laughed watching you before he looked more serious. "I meant what i said" Zuko said softly "you don’t have to be my anything...i like you, i don’t need any labels or anything". "But do you want them?" you asked. You’d been more honest with Zuko than you’d ever been with anyone and now a part of you....wasn’t terrified by the idea of making him something more. But Zuko had also listened to you too and didn’t want to scare you off. "All i want is you" he smiled coming closer "if you don’t want labels then they won’t come anywhere near us". You smiled at the effort Zuko was making and leant into him. Zuko wrapped his arms around you and you buried your head in his chest. Ignoring the feeling in your stomach that you should have been more honest.

1 week later

Zuko definitely took what you’d said into account. He was a lot more confident with you both in private and publically. Apparently almost losing you made him more determined to make the most of his time with you. He invited you to royal events and was attentive to you throughout them. When nobles questioned him about you he would tell them it was none of their concern and refuse to answer any further prying. You liked seeing Zuko stand up for himself using his dominant abrupt side but also kind of missed his soft sweet side. Sure having a temper and attitude were hot in the moment but after a while they lost their depth and you got the feeling it was an act Zuko was putting on for you. As if Zuko thought by acting tough and in control with his court you’d be more attracted to him when in reality you loved how caring and considerate he was.

Zuko was also struggling. As well as maintaining the imposing Firelord who didn’t care what others thought of him, Zuko was also pretending he was okay with being casual. Zuko was not a casual person in any meaning of the word. He was a dramatic over-thinker, he had never been carefree and although in the moment with you he did enjoy it, afterwards his mind fretted over everything he’d done. He also worried about your open relationship. He knew freedom was important for you but he couldn’t help but wonder if when you looked at another person you’d start seeing them as well. Zuko liked you a lot and was sure he never wanted to see you with another person. He wondered if it was selfish but he wanted you all to himself and wanted an exclusive relationship....but he’d promised you he would be fine with this and that meant more to him.

So you and Zuko continued the charade to please the other, no idea that the other person actually felt the exact same way.

Your POV

You and Zuko had just had a pleasant evening with his friends and were retiring to his room for the night. On the way you passed a guard who looked at the two of you and then frowned. Zuko immediately tensed and went into Firelord mode. “Something you want to say?” Zuko called and the guard lowered his eyes “no Firelord Zuko”. “I thought not” Zuko agreed and took your hand. Zuko led you into his room and shut the door with a loud snap. You watched Zuko and all the things you’d been feeling this week came up. You needed to say something and now was just as good a time as any.

You prepared for the night and sat down on the edge of the bed watching Zuko warily, wondering how he’d take what you were about to say.

"Zuko i’ve been thinking about something and I think we need to talk” you said suddenly and Zuko jumped standing up taller. "Are you okay?" he asked immediately coming to sit next to you. "I am and i want to thank you for all the effort you’ve gone to but i think we need to reassess the situation”. Zuko immediately panicked, you’d realised he wasn’t a cool collected leader and that he was faking it....you weren’t attracted to him anymore. "Y/n i think i know what you’re going to say" he frowned when you carried on "i miss how it was before". Zuko blinked "what?". "I know you’re trying to be more dominant in your rule and to be more protective of us but that doesn’t mean you have to act all unfeeling and unbothered for my benefit. You’re a kind sweet person Zuko and I like when you show that, so i guess i’m asking have you been trying to change for me?". Zuko looked down "i have....you just reacted so intensely to me being more confident and so i thought you’d want that more". "I do love it when your confident" you smiled "but you don’t have to keep that in every aspect of our lives, maybe just when we’re alone?". Zuko felt a blush rise to his cheeks but he nodded "okay". You smiled "and sorry one more thing....i know i said i don’t like labels but i think i’d maybe like to try them?". Overcome with the realisation you felt everything he did Zuko just kissed you passionately. You kissed him back before laughing as you separated "what was that for?”. "For weeks i’ve been playing this character and restraining myself from asking you to be exclusive with me and i thought if i felt this way how can we be compatible but all along you felt it too". You blushed and nodded "yes i....i’ve felt that too”. Zuko grinned and kissed you again before pulling away "wait let me make sure i understand this correctly, you’d like us to start dating? Properly and officially?". "And exclusively" you smiled and Zuko grinned "i’m going to do this officially then, y/n will you be my girlfriend". "I thought you’d never ask!" you cried and kissed him again.

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starshine583 · 3 years ago

Text

New Girl on the Block (19)

(Hey, everyone!!! Thank you so much for your patience while I was away. It’s good to be back! I hope you all enjoy this next chapter!)

Ch. 1 / Ch. 18 / Ch. 20 (ao3)

Chapter 19: A Date with Misery

“Marinette, you are.. an incredible person.”

“You don’t need anyone to validate how amazing you are.”

“You are talented, kind, and capable all on your own.”

Felix’s words from the night before played over in Marinette’s mind again and again, an endless loop that she found herself incapable of escaping, and with each echo, her heart seemed to melt further than she thought possible. The comments were simply too honey-sweet, too sincere. She couldn’t help reveling in them. How long had he thought of her that way? How long had he placed her on such a high pedestal that she wasn’t aware of? Marinette knew that Felix had a tendency to make unexpected comments every now and then, but last night truly caught her off guard.. and perhaps made her just a tad bit love-stricken. Had he always spoken to her in that soft manner, the one that made her believe she could be the very stars in his night sky? Had he always possessed the ability to send her heart fluttering the way it did last night, when he allowed her to pull him onto the dance floor and hold him incredibly close? She had no way of knowing, and certainly not enough nerve to ask aloud. But, oh, how her mind ran rampant with fantasies anyway. Will she ever be able to dance with him like that again? Would he look at her the same way he had then, with eyes that felt soft as a cloud in the moment? Did he go home last night and think about her too, endlessly turning on his bed and glancing at his diary- if he kept one, that is -and thinking maybe just one more entry-

“Marinette?”

Marinette jumped, nearly falling off of the ladder that she’d been balancing on, and felt a blush explode across her cheeks.

“Nothing! What? I mean-” She flailed her arms a bit to regain balance, then peeked down at the person below, the very boy she’d been fantasizing about “-Did you need something?”

Felix stood at the base of the ladder, his brows furrowed slightly. “..No. I just wanted to know if there was something wrong with your heart.”

Marinette sputtered, her blush deepening considerably. She couldn’t have been that obvious, right? What expression was she making before he came over?

“M-My heart?” She asked- or rather, squeaked.

Felix pointed to a stream of hearts on the wall, the ones she was supposed to be taking down. “You were staring at one of the hearts for quite a while. Is it ripped?”

“Oh.” She said, staring blankly at the wall. The paper hearts. He meant the paper hearts hanging next to her. Not her heart specifically. That made a lot more sense. “No, sorry. The hearts are fine. I was just, uh.. you know.. reminiscing. We had a lot of fun times with these decorations.”

“Ah,” Felix tilted his head up in a slight nod, “my apologies for interrupting you then.”

“Oh, you didn’t.” Marinette assured hastily. “It really wasn’t anything important.”

Definitely wasn’t anything important..

She plucked out the pin that held the hearts and started down the ladder to move to the other end of the stream. Felix offered a hand to help her down in the process, and she took it, strongly ignoring the tingling sensation that came from doing so.

“If you’d like to keep one as a memorial, I’m sure Allegra wouldn’t mind.” He remarked. “I doubt she’s going to keep any of these things herself after all the parties they’ve had.”

Marinette hummed. Keeping a heart streamer as a memorial, huh? That didn’t sound like a bad idea.

“Thanks. I just might do that.”

Felix gave her the tiniest of smiles, the kind Marinette was used to catching at this point, and slipped his hand out of hers when her feet hit the ground. She clasped her hands together afterwards to compensate, also ignoring the fact that it might have been nice for him to hold her hand just a tad bit longer.

“Would you like help moving the ladder?” He asked, to which she shook her head.

“I’ve got it, but if you could move the box over to the other round table while I move the ladder, I would be grateful.”

Allegra had given her an empty box to put the decorations in as she took them off of the wall. So far, Marinette had exactly.. zero decorations in the box. Gosh, how long had she been staring at that heart? Was she going insane? Why would she even be thinking about Felix this way? He’d just told her last night that he wasn’t interested in romance. Falling for him would be guaranteed heartbreak! It would be completely ridiculous! It would.. It would..

It would probably be inevitable.

Felix was just too sweet to her, too kind. He was always looking out for her and supporting her, always sharing his quiet laughs and amused smiles, and he said too many things that made her head spin for her not to start liking him. There was just no escape! It was going to happen eventually. The only question now was when.

And maybe today was her answer.

Stop it. Marinette scolded herself as she picked up the ladder to walk it over. It’s just some butterflies in your stomach. How many of those did you digest around Adrien?

Marinette froze midstep, an immense sense of horror washing over her. Oh, gosh, this wasn’t going to be another Adrien situation, was it? It couldn’t be. She refused to go through that again. At least not this soon.

Marinette continued walking, if only to avoid Felix’s suspicions, and set up the ladder under the next pin that was holding up her stream.

When you think about it, this really can’t be another Adrien situation, right? With Adrien, she had no idea whether he liked her or not, but was hopeful despite that and used her friends in an effort to gain his attention. With Felix, she already had her answer. She knew for a fact that he didn’t like her romantically, that he wouldn’t ever like her romantically, and she also hadn’t asked any of her new friends to help her gain Felix’s attention. (Though, in all honesty, she probably wouldn’t need help even if she was looking for his attention, because he already gave it to her willingly on a constant basis, but that thought didn’t exactly help her cause.)

“Is here alright?” Felix asked as he set the box on the end of the round table.

Marinette nodded, scaling the ladder to pluck the next pin. “Yep. That’s great, thank you.”

“Of course. If you need anything else, I’ll be wrapping the candles and putting them in boxes.”

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.” She said, pulling a smile.

No, this wasn’t going to be anything like her crush on Adrien. This time she at least had closure before she began, and although it might be just as heart-shattering in the long run, she won’t be wasting her time wondering “what if” or tripping over herself to become his dream girl in an effort to be ‘chosen’. She’ll simply be his friend, as he’s been to her, and if she’s lucky, this sort-of-tiny-little crush of hers will wither away before it grows into a bigger problem.

After all, it’s like Felix said: She’ll find someone new who appreciates her eventually. It just.. won’t be him. The sooner she took this lesson to heart, the better.

Marinette plucked the next pin out of the wall, watching the stream of hearts fall into the box below, and started back down the ladder again. That’s one down. Five to go.

She paused at the bottom of the ladder, ready to pull it together so she could pick it up and move it again, when her phone started buzzing in her pocket. She quickly shimmied it out to check what the buzzing was for, only to be met with the flashing words “Adrien Agreste - Café”.

It was her alarm clock telling her that it was time to go meet Adrien for lunch. And it couldn’t have picked a worse time. She still had five other heart streamers to take down, and at this rate she was going to have to run half way across town just to make it on time. Ugh- why didn’t she set her alarm clock earlier?

“Hey, guys?” She called out to the group, tucking her phone back into her pocket. “I hate to say it, but I actually need to get going. I’m sorry I couldn’t help out more.”

If she hadn’t stopped every two seconds to daydream about somebody-

“Oh, don’t worry about it!” Allegra called back with a smile. “You’ve helped out plenty.”

“Yeah,” Claude agreed. “This was our party anyway.”

“I know, but I only managed to get one of the streamers down.” Marinette sighed.

“But you also helped fold all of the tablecloths and put them away.” Allan reminded her.

“And you swept the room after the trash was taken care of.” Allegra added.

“Go have fun at your appointment thing or whatever. We’ve got everything covered here.” Claude assured, emptying the water from another flower vase.

Marinette smiled as she grabbed her purse from one of the round tables. Her friends were so great, each and every one of them.

“I’ll see you guys later then.”

“See ya!”

“Bye, Mari!”

“Do you want me to call my driver for you?” Felix asked, briefly setting his candles aside. “It’s quite a walk from here to your house, isn’t it?”

“Thanks, but I’m good. I can have Maman and Papa come to pick me up if I start running late.” Or she can transform into Ladybug and swing right over to Adrien herself, which was exactly what she planned on doing. “I’ll text you guys when I get there, though.”

That seemed to satisfy Felix, because he nodded and continued placing his candles in the box. “I’ll be waiting to hear from you then.”

Marinette pursed her lips and spun towards the door, hoping he didn’t notice the fresh blush that was creeping across her cheeks. Gosh, how was she ever going to survive this boy? Maybe Adrien’s presence will give her a good slap in the face and bring her back to her senses.. She highly doubted it though. With her track record, she’ll probably end up falling for Adrien again too, and then she’ll be stuck between two unrequited crushes! Great!

..Why does she always have to fall for the people who don’t love her back?

~~~~~~~

Wind rushed past Chat Noir’s face as he raced across the rooftops, his grin stretching wide from ear to ear. Today was the day! It was finally the fifteenth! In just a few short blocks, he was going to meet Marinette at their agreed café, and they were going to have a whole lunch together just to themselves! It made him buzz with excitement at the very thought, because finally his plans were progressing. Finally he was gonna have a long, drawn out chat with Marinette as Adrien, and perhaps, if he had gained even the slightest bit of luck from his partner, he would be able to convince her to transfer back to Dupont. Or at least have her consider it. She probably shouldn’t come back right this second.

Chat Noir landed on a rooftop and slid down the tiles with glee, but before he could leap to the next rooftop, a red and black-spotted figure flew out in front of him. He stumbled back with a yelp, staring at the person with wide eyes as they sailed onto the rooftop across from him. Was that..?

“My Lady?” He called out, pushing himself back onto his feet. What was she doing out at this time of day? It wasn’t like her to be out and about during daylight when no akumas were present.

Unless there is an akuma. Chat realized with horror. He glanced around the city, looking for explosions or destruction of some kind. Please, let there not be an akuma. That would mean he’d have to skip out on his lunch with Marinette! And he’d worked so hard just to get her there!

The spotted figure turned around- proving that it was, in fact, his wonderful Ladybug -and flashed him her signature, Lady-Luck smile. “Oh, Chat Noir! I didn’t realize you would be out today.”

Chat Noir returned her smile and hopped over to her rooftop. “I could say the same to you, Bugaboo. Is an akuma on the loose again?”

“No, not that I’m aware of.” She assured, to his relief. “I just had some free time and thought I would do a small patrol around the city to make sure everything’s still in order.”

Chat Noir chuckled. That’s His Lady for you. Never ceasing to protect Paris. Could she ever become more amazing?

“Sounds like a great idea. I’d be tempted to join you, but I’m actually on my way home already. I’ve been out for a while.” He said, though none of it was true. He hadn’t been out for a while, and he certainly wasn’t running home, but Ladybug was extremely strict on the ‘keeping identities a secret’ policy. If he let something about his civilian life slip- like, say, meeting someone at a cafe about five minutes from now to talk about school transfers -she’d get upset and scold him for divulging too much information. It wasn’t fun lying to the person he was supposed to trust the most, but this was the set up that they’d decided to use.

“That’s alright. I wasn’t planning on staying out long anyway.” Ladybug replied. “I’ll see you during our next patrol?”

“Or attack.” Chat Noir agreed, giving her a little wink before he took off again. This time he turned to the left of the café, moving in a direction that was somewhat opposite of it. He didn’t want Ladybug seeing where he was going- again, secret identities -but, he also didn’t want to stray too far from his and Marinette’s meeting place, or else he was going to be late. So, he figured he could find a comfortable alleyway about a block or two away from his destination and simply run the rest of the way on foot.

Thank goodness he did, because as soon as he turned left, Ladybug swung off in the exact direction he’d originally been heading. Can you imagine if they’d started going the same way? The explanation for that one would have been awful, he’s sure.

Chat Noir dropped down into an alleyway a few minutes later, just as planned, and detransformed back into Adrien. Running around Paris in his civilian form probably wasn’t going to be any easier than jumping rooftops, but at least he didn’t run into any problems with His Lady. That was a plus, right?

“Ugh,” Plagg groaned as he swirled back into the air, “remind me again why we had to waste my precious energy on a lunch date?”

“Come on, Plagg, you know I hate having Gorilla hover over my shoulder.” Adrien said, offering his kwami a slice of cheese. Gorilla does his best to give Adrien as much space as possible, but still, when you know someone is there specifically to watch you.. “Besides, it’ll give Marinette and I more privacy while we talk.”

Plagg gave a dismissive sigh as he snatched the cheese from Adrien’s hands. “Oh, that’s right. We’re still on pigtails.. I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with her. It’s not like she died or anything.”

Adrien frowned. “I’m not obsessed. I’m just trying to be a good friend. She’s always been there for all of us. So why shouldn’t I be there for her?”

“Mm.. Does this really count as being there for her, though?” Plagg asked as he shoved the first half of the cheese into his mouth.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re trying to be there for her by bringing her back to Dupont, right? Well, she seems perfectly happy at her new school to me. So why not leave her be? If you want to be there for her, don’t you think you should be supporting her decisions?”

A bit of guilt festered in Adrien’s chest, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “I.. get what you’re saying, but I want her back too. I want to hang out again and talk like we used to.”

“You’re about to talk with her right now.”

“You know what I mean. I want to talk with her daily, like we do at school.”

“Then, why don’t you transfer schools?”

Adrien let out a small chuckle. “And leave Nino? I couldn’t do that to him.”

“Okay~, but don’t say I didn’t warn you if things don’t work out the way you want them to.” Plagg said. He then shoved the rest of the cheese into his mouth and zipped into Adrien��s shirt pocket.

Adrien furrowed his eyebrows, but didn’t reply, instead starting for the cafe. Why would Plagg say something like that? Of course everything was going to work out! Yes, Marinette was happy at her new school, and yes, getting her to come back to Dupont might be a tad tricky (especially since he had to deal with Lila first) but that didn’t mean his plan was going to fail. He simply needed to remind Marinette that she loved being at Dupont too! More so than Rosemary even! It’ll be alright. Plagg will see.

With little time to spare, Adrien booked it to the café, careful to keep his head down and not catch the eyes of the media. Thankfully, he made it there in one piece, albeit five minutes late. It should be fine, though. If anyone were to understand missing the mark for an appointment, it would be her, right?

Adrien slipped his phone out of his pocket as he walked inside to check for any new messages from the ravenette, then silenced it when he saw that there were none. He didn’t want this precious time to be interrupted.

The bell on the café door jingled above him when he entered, reminding him of a certain bakery. He glanced around the room for Marinette hopefully, then lit up when he caught sight of a pair of ravenette pigtails at a table in the middle of the room. Yes! She was here!

Adrien wasted no time strolling over the table, tapping the top of her head to get her attention. She jumped- as she usually does -and whirled around with wide eyes.

“Hey, Marinette.” He greeted with a smile.

“Adrien!” She said, letting out a nervous laugh. “Y-You’re here.”

“Yeah!” He chirped, slipping into the seat across from her. “Sorry I’m late. I ran into a bit of traffic on the way here. How have you been? Did you have a good Valentine’s Day?”

Marinette settled back into her chair as well, pulling a small, tight smile. “It’s alright.. I’ve been pretty good, and my Valentine’s Day was wonderful. How was yours?”

“Oh, you know,” Adrien shrugged, “same as always. I got some cards from a few fans and did a special photoshoot for my father, but that was about it. I tried to go see Nino or something, but he was with Alya, so..”

“Aw, I’m sorry. I wish it could have worked out better.”

“No, it’s fine.” He quickly assured. “I’m used to it. Besides, Nino and I have actually been hanging out a lot more during the winter break.”

“Oh,” Marinette said, “That’s good then. You deserve the free time.”

Adrien smiled. What a very ‘Marinette’ thing to say. “Thanks. Have you ordered anything yet?”

She shook her head. “No, I figured I’d wait for you.”

“Then let’s go get some food.” He said, standing from the table again. “I’m starving.”

Marinette stood with him, and they made their way over to the line that led to the service counter. It wasn’t long, thankfully, only holding about three people or so. They should be back at the table in no time.

“So, are you enjoying your new school life? I heard you transferred to Rosemary.”

“Yeah, I’ve been having a great time,” Marinette said, a bit too cheerful for Adrien’s liking, “but I do have a question. How did you know I transferred to Rosemary?”

“Oh, uh..”

Would she accept ‘my good friend Chat Noir’ as a proper answer?

“..Mlle Bustier. She announced to the class that you had transferred, and when I asked about it afterwards, she told me that you went to Rosemary.”

A hum came from Marinette, the corner of her lips tugging downwards. Why was she frowning? Did he say something wrong?

“Is that a problem?” He asked.

“Oh! No.” Marinette replied hastily. “Well.. sort of. I’m just worried that if she told you, then she’d be willing to tell other people.. Like Lila or Alya.”

Ah.. She made a good point. Her whereabouts could be spread around easily if Mlle Bustier was being loose-lipped. Although he doubted that Lila would come after Marinette since she’s not trying to out her anymore, Adrien wouldn’t put it past the girl entirely, especially since she was still spreading rumors about Marinette on a regular basis..

Granted, this only mattered if Mlle Bustier actually told him where Marinette went to school, which she didn’t. So they should be perfectly safe for the time being.

“I’m sure everything will be fine.” He insisted. “I was the only one that asked, anyway, and I made sure we were alone.”

Marinette nodded, but she didn’t look any less unsettled. “You’re sure you were the only one that asked?”

“Positive.”

“.. Okay.” She muttered, fiddling with the tip of her black jacket. Oh, she was getting anxious now! He needed to fix this. Change the subject!

“Anyway, you said your new school was great?” He asked as he stepped forward in line. “That’s good to hear. Have you made any friends there yet?”

Of course, he already knew that she’d made new friends- several, in fact -but hopefully talking about them would help her relax. Plus, it would give him more information on her new environment. So it’s a double bonus.

Marinette took the bait, her hands quickly falling back to her side as she said, “I have. I was fortunate enough to run into a whole group of friends on my first day, and they took me in without hesitation, which was sweet. They even gave me a tour of the school and everything.”

Adrien plastered a tight smile onto his face in an effort to show support. She already had an entire group of new friends? That was gonna be hard to pull her away from.

“Wow, they sound really nice. You’ll have to introduce me to them sometime.”

“Maybe I can,” Marinette agreed, “but it probably won’t be for a while. We all have schedules and things that we’d need to work out, and I’ve been working on this fashion project lately that I was hoping to get done by the end of next week.”

“No worries. I definitely understand having a busy schedule.” Adrien joked, stepping forward in the line again. “Dupont’s been a little crazy since you left too. We had to pick a new vice president and everything.”

“Yeah, I heard. Lila had to come by and grab the books.” Marinette said bitterly.

Adrien winced. “Really? What did she say?”

“Gosh, I don’t even remember anymore.” Marinette rolled her eyes. “I try not to worry over stupid people. I’m sure she just rubbed her ‘victory’ towards me leaving in my face.”

Adrien chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I bet.. Lila aside, though, we all miss you. Dupont isn’t the same without you here.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow at him as they took another step forward in line. “You all miss me?”

Adrien frowned, partly because she doubted him, but mostly because he knew her skepticism was justified. They didn’t all miss her. Some- if not everyone besides himself -seemed to be happy that she was gone. It was a true tragedy.

“Well.. I miss you.” He said, his heart dropping further when she gave a satisfied nod. She’s already accepted the tragedy as fact, something unchanging, but he was going to work to make things different.

“Can I take your order?” The cashier cut in, grabbing the pair’s attention.

Adrien and Marinette gave the cashier their order and walked back to their table to wait for their names being called.

“So..” Adrien trailed off as they took their seats. “Do.. you miss us?”

He knew it was a risky question, especially since she’d firmly told Chat Noir a month prior that she did not, in fact, miss Dupont, but maybe her opinion had changed since then?

Marinette shifted in her seat, clearly uncomfortable. “I.. I’m not sure how to answer that, Adrien. How can I say that I miss the people who treated me like a monster for no other reason than the fact that I decided to stand up against a liar? I get that Lila twisted their views, and that everyone has their own version of a story, but it still hurt for them not to believe me even though most of us have known each other since childhood.”

“Do I miss the fun times and the people they used to be before Lila came along? Sure I do, but they’re not the people they used to be. They’re not the friends I grew up with anymore, and I’m not going to regret leaving a situation that wasn’t good for me.”

Adrien sighed. “Alright.. That’s a fair answer.. But what if they did come back? I mean- like - What if they realized that Lila was lying and came back and apologized and everything went back to normal. Would you come back?”

Marinette frowned. “.. I don’t know. What you’re suggesting is extremely far-fetched, and even if everything did go back to ‘normal’, it still wouldn’t quite be the same. They abandoned me for a foreigner. You can’t really come back from that. Plus, I think Rosemary is a great opportunity for me. It’s a prestigious school with extensive classes on the fashion industry and many other things, and although there can be some snooty, rich students, most of the people I’ve met there are really nice.”

Adrien hummed. Her answer was, once again, disheartening, but he took comfort in the fact that she said ‘I don’t know’ instead of just a straight up ‘no’. That was at least something, right? He could work with an ‘I don’t know’.

“Was this all you wanted to talk with me about?” Marinette asked. “Whether or not I would come back to Dupont?”

Adrien winced. “Well, no-”

Yes.

“-I also just wanted to catch up in general. We haven’t really seen each other in over a month, ya know?”

Although she appeared to be hesitant towards his answer, she gave a small smile anyway. “Yeah, it’s definitely been a while.”

Adrien chuckled. “You know, I actually tried to go visit you at Rosemary one time before this, but when I asked a student where you were, he said that you didn’t even attend the school. Had you two just not met yet?”

“Uh.. Can you describe him? There’s a lot of people at the school.”

“Sure. He was about my height, maybe a bit taller, with pale blonde hair and light eyes- I think. He was kind of just pale in general.”

Marinette snorted. “Do you know the amount of people at the school that could match that description?”

“Okay, okay, uhm.. I think he was wearing dark colors that day. Like, greys or blacks maybe.”

“Wears dark colors, but has light hair and eyes, and is tall. Got it.” Marinette smiled. “Sorry, Adrien, but I’m just not sure. That could be Devin or Caleb or Eliot or any other number of boys. It could have even been someone who’s not in my classes.”

“Right, that’s fine. I was just curious.” He said casually, though it was really eating him alive. He knew that they knew each other. They had to! No one gets that upset during an akuma attack and calls the person their friend without knowing them. The guy even mentioned that their mutual friends were waiting for them! So who could it be?

“Order for Adrien and Marinette Dupain-Cheng!”

Adrien stood. “I’ll get it.”

Honestly, he didn’t need to know the guy’s name. It was a bitter inconvenience, to be sure, but in the end, finding out the blond-haired dude’s name isn’t the objective. The objective was to get rid of Lila, then get Marinette to come back to Dupont. She might be hesitant about it now, which was understandable, but once she sees the changes that he’s gonna make at Dupont, she’ll be more than happy to come back. He simply needed to open her up to the idea again.

Lucky for him, he had a whole lunch date to do just that.

~~~~~~

Lila slowed to a stop on the sidewalk, panting and out of breath. She searched the city streets from left to right, but was only met with the scenery of a regular, Paris afternoon. Where were the screaming fans? The paparazzi? The bodyguards holding everyone back? Did they all disperse already? That post was literally made five minutes ago! How did he run away so fast?

She pulled out her phone to unlock it, watching as her social media popped up again. It was a picture of XY standing next to a downtown café, the very café Lila was standing next to right now.

“Chillin’ at the Café Aroma today!” The post read, but there was no XY in sight. There were hardly even any XY fans here looking for him. Was the post just a ruse to get rid of the paparazzi for a while? Don’t tell her she got up and ran all the way down here for nothing!

Lila let out a groan, slumping against the café. If XY or any of his lackeys bothered to answer their dang cell phones, none of this would’ve happened! Why would they even put out public numbers if they weren’t going to tend to them? It was really a jerk-ish thing to do.

Nevertheless, she still needed to find a way to contact him. XY was the only celebrity in Paris that might be willing to show up at Dupont per her request. Jagged Stone was a close second, but if she brought him to school, Lila was certain Adrien would ask about her stupid, kitten-saving story. Then, Jagged would get all confused and say that he never had a kitten, and Lila would have a lot more explaining to do. That was too much of a hassle for her to deal with. She needed someone she hadn’t lied much about, someone who could also quiet her whining, soul-sucking classmates. Ergo, she needed to find XY.

But where is he? Lila thought, scrolling through her phone for more recent posts. XY clearly wasn’t downtown, meaning he could be just about anywhere in Paris. He could even be outside of Paris. How was she supposed to find him when she had no special contacts to do so? It was like looking for a needle in a haystack.

And yet.. Marinette managed to find and reign in every celebrity she needed while she was class president. On. Her. Own.

Lila scowled and shoved her phone back into her pocket. Curse that goody-little-two-shoes for making her job harder. Curse her for somehow being perfect at everything and forcing Lila to enhance her lies to compete. Curse her for leaving to another school and making Lila suffer the consequences for it. Why couldn't Marinette have been a normal class president, hm? Why did she have to constantly outdo herself with the grandest of gestures and the most important of people? Why did Lila have to be so stupid as to try and fill an impossible roll? She should have convinced Alya to run for president instead. At least then she wouldn’t be blamed for the sudden budget cuts or the mismatched class trips. She would be able to continue lying in peace and not have to worry about delivering on all of her false promises. In fact, if she weren’t so busy trying to keep up with Marinette’s ‘legacy’, along with her own big mouth, she might have been able to take care of Adrien by now.

Lila heaved a heavy sigh and massaged her temples as she stood up from the café wall. XY wasn’t going to be found anytime soon, so she might as well take a break and grab a coffee before moving forward. Perhaps the caffeine will spark her creativity for a few lies that Adrien can’t dig into should her plan to find XY fail.

She walked over to the café door and pushed it open. The bell attached to the door jingled, reminding her of that incorrigible bakery, but she ignored it and continued inside. A little music toy wasn’t going to get in the way of her espresso.

Her eyes grazed over the room, hoping to find an empty table.

What she found instead, however, made her stomach drop.

There, sitting at a table near the middle of the room, was Adrien Agreste himself, and sitting across from him was none other than Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Lila yelped and ducked back outside, pressing herself firmly against the wall where they couldn’t see her. What were they doing there? What were they doing together?!

Carefully, she crept past the door and slid over to the large window at the front of the café, where she could watch the two from a safe distance. It probably looked suspicious to anyone passing, but she hardly cared at that point. If Adrien and Marinette were getting together like this, Lila was going to have much bigger things to worry about.

She peered through the glass, noting the near-empty plates on their table. They must be having lunch together. Did they do that often? Since when? What could they possibly be talking about?

A smirk tugged at the corner of Adrien’s lips, and Marinette snorted, putting a hand on her mouth to hide her laughter. Ugh, why did she look so cheery! She was supposed to be miserable!

Lila scoffed, digging her fingernails into the brick at the base of the window. What happened to the endless tears and the defeated, sagging posture? What happened to the shriveled up nothing that Lila watched leave the school? Was she really enjoying herself now that she wasn’t attending Dupont? More importantly, how long have Marinette and Adrien been meeting up like this? Was this the reason Adrien suddenly decided to fight back against her? Because he’d rekindled his friendship with Marinette? No wonder the man was out for blood! Marinette probably set him up to the task herself! She must have planned all of this from the very beginning!

No, Lila thought, digging her phone out of her pocket again. She refused to be made a fool of. If they thought they were going to pull one over on her this easily, they were gonna have another thing coming.

She snapped a photo of them together, making sure to get a moment where they were laughing hard, and tilted the angle of the camera to make it seem like she’d been passing by. Lila then got up and walked back into the café. A picture of Adrien having a grand time with Marinette should be enough of a set up for her to build him a bad reputation, but she needed to know what they were talking about specifically. The more she knew about this meet-up (and previous ones) the better, and if she were anything close to lucky, they would talk about their plans for her while she was there too. That would give her plenty of time to find a way to prepare.

Or, perhaps, strike first.

As casually as possible, Lila slipped into an empty seat near the pair, not too close, but not too far away that she couldn’t hear them. She then snatched the menu on her table and propped it up so her face couldn’t be seen while she listened.

“Okay, wait. So you’re telling me that they threw an entire Valentine’s Day party at the Mandarin Oriental by themselves?” She heard Adrien ask. He sounded immensely impressed. Who were they talking about?

“Yeah!” Marinette replied, the smile clear in her voice. “They’re parents paid for it, of course, but they arranged everything themselves, including the caterers and reservations. We actually made some of the decorations by hand too.”

“Wow, that sounds like a blast. I bet they all looked great.”

“They did! Especially when we finished the lights and stuff. Everyone loved it.”

Lila scrunched up her nose, equally confused and annoyed. Someone threw a party at the Mandarin Oriental for Valentine’s day? Who? Why was Marinette invited? And why did she get to personally help with the decorations? This wasn’t another one of her “chummy celebrity friends”, was it? It better not be.

Adrien chuckled. “If all of those rich kids at Rosemary enjoyed it, I’m sure it was something.”

Lila froze. Did he just say “all” of the rich kids? Meaning multiple? Why was Marinette hanging out with multiple rich kids? How was she hanging out with multiple rich kids? Were they inviting her to the parties they were throwing? Why? What did she have that was so freaking special?

Wait a minute.

Her raging thought finally caught up with the rest of Adrien’s comment, specifically the one about Rosemary. Wasn’t that the stuck-up school near the middle of Paris that was famously known for hosting either incredibly rich or incredibly gifted students? The one that barely let you breathe in their direction if you weren’t considered “worthy”? How did Marinette end up wandering around there long enough to catch some rich friends? No one’s allowed inside except for students or staff, and their policies are extremely strict. (she should know, considering she’s tried to weasel her way in there several times.) The only way she would be able to get inside was if-

Lila gasped, nearly dropping her menu in the process.

No.. No, no way Marinette got transferred from Dupont to Rosemary. That would just be absurd! She didn’t have any money! And she certainly didn’t have enough talent to be accepted despite that!

But as Lila listened to the conversation more and more, she had to endure the horrible realization that Marinette had, in fact, been transferred to Rosemary. Not only that, she was thriving there. She was making new friends who gave her rides in limos. She was going to fancy restaurants that cost more than Lila’s house for an afternoon snack. She was having slumber parties in mansions. Mansions! Entire estates that were apparently just as big- if not bigger! -than Adrien Agreste’s!

Lila had finally gotten rid of Marinette and won Dupont, only for Marinette to gain the new life that Lila had always dreamed of having! How was that fair? How was any of this fair!

Lila drew in a long, deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. She couldn’t blow her top just yet. Marinette may be winning right now, but once Adrien is out of the way, Lila will make sure that Marinette suffers the way she deserves. Rosemary isn’t going to save her for long.

She pulled out her phone to unlock it and clicked on the messaging app, scrolling down until she found her favorite minion: Alya Cessaire.

~Hey, you’ll never guess what I just saw!!~

Lila smiled as she sent the text. With a message like that, Alya won’t be able to help her curiosity, and when Lila sends the picture of Adrien and Marinette together, the journalist will fall headfirst into a pool of rage.

In other words, that pampered little rich boy won’t know what hit him.

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(Hey, everyone! This section isn’t quite part of the story, but it’s going to be part of the updates from now on. Two weeks ago, I visited a Bible camp, and the Lord really spoke to my heart through the messages. So, from now on, I want to make Him the center of my life and glorify Him in everything I do. At first, I thought of not writing anymore fics or chapters, since doing so would really take my focus away from Him, but instead, I decide to start writing little devotions at the end of each chapter I post. That way, you all won’t have to suffer through an incomplete story, and I get to share the wonderful gospel with you all!

The first devotion I want to post is the message of salvation and how you can know that you’re going to Heaven when you die. The Bible (King James Version) says in Romans 3:23 “For all have sinned and come short of the glory of God.” and the first part of Romans 6:23 says “For the wages of sin is death”. We have all had a moment in our lives where we know we’re not supposed to do something, but we do it anyway. That breaking of rules is called a sin, and because of that sin, God says that we are not fit to be in His presence, for He is a just and holy God. So, due to this, our souls are condemned to the fiery prison known as Hell, where it is pitch black around you, and the only thing you can hear is wailing and weeping and gnashing of teeth. Your soul will be alight with fire, but your body will never actually burn, so you will be faced with that pain for the rest of eternity. Can you imagine that? Being in that kind of torment forever and ever and ever and knowing that it will never end? I can’t wrap my brain around that kind of pain, and I certainly don’t want any of you to have to endure it. So that’s why I’m telling you now that there is a bright side to all of this!

John 3:16 says “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him shall not perish, but have everlasting life.” and the other part of Romans 6:23 says “but the gift of God is eternal life”. Do you realize what this means? It means we don’t have to go to Hell! God has provided a way of escape for us!

2,021 years ago, God sent his Son, Jesus Christ, down to earth to die for us. He was a perfect man, with no sin about Him, but he became sin for us and sacrificed himself so that we could be saved. People beat him and mauled him to point beyond recognition, then they nailed him to a cross for him to die. The pain he had to endure was excruciating, but he did it for us, because he loves us.

Then, three days after the Son of God passed away, he arose from the grave with new life! and because of that, we now have a way to join Him in heaven! All we have to do is admit that we are a sinner, repent of our sins, and accept Jesus Christ into our hearts as our Lord and Savior. We must believe on Him, and believe that he died on the cross for us, then we won’t have to go to Hell! It’s that easy! And those who believe on the Lord Jesus not only don’t have to go to Hell, but they also find a new home in Heaven with the very person who created us and loves us so much to the point of sacrificing Himself for our benefit. It’s a win-win scenario!

I know this isn’t a normal thing to do for fics, but this is something extremely important that I need all of you to know. So please, if you read through this, I implore you to get saved and accept Jesus as your savior. What do you have to lose? If you don’t, you’ll be doomed to an eternity of pain and suffering that you can never escape, but if you do, you will be guaranteed a place in paradise, where Jesus will be waiting for you with open arms. Please trust Him with your life and your heart. You know he will keep it safe.

Thank you all for listening to this and I hope you have a wonderful day!)

Tag List: @sasstrashforlike5fandoms @artbyknigit @athena452 @nickristus-dreamer @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @arsaem @abrx2002 @neakco @pawsitivelymiraculous @too0bsessedformyowngood @nathleigh @lusicing @officiallydarkgeek @all-mights-asscheeks @tbehartoo @woe-is-me0 @raeuberprinzessin @lazuli-11 @miss-chaos27 @trippingovermyfeet @sadpotatoondrugs @ladybug-182 @jaggedheart11 @marinahrasauce @i-need-blog-ideas @thewheezingbubbledragon @crazylittlemunchkin @unabashedbookworm @moonystars14 @sunflowers-and-mooncakes @2confused-2doanything @magnificentcrapposts @moonnette @nickristus-dreamer @vixen-uchiha @casual-darkness @luxmorningstarr @jjmjjktth @kaithehero @itsme1598 @theymakeupfairies @xjaccyx @miraculous-ninja @miraculouspenta @swiftie-miraculer13 @justafanwarrior @all-mights-asscheeks @ira-sairain @lookatthestars1 @dahjokester @blissful-passing @solangelo252 @canivialemonsquints07 @derbygracie @pleaseignorejustheretoread

#felinette #Marinette #Miraculous Ladybug #New Girl on the Block #Rosemary AU #Felix Culpa #Quantic Kids #miraculous #ladybug

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butterfly-giggles · 4 years ago

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Bratty Indulgence

Just a reminder that this is aged up KiriBaku and A bit of NSFW feel since it does have BDSM tendencies.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, OUR FAVORITE ANGRY BOY!!! It just HAD to be the MOST stress-filled day that Bakugou had ever had to deal with at his hero agency. First, the morning started out with the barista messing up his order of a Frappuccino and blueberry scone. He did his best, this is Bakugou we are talking about, to not fly completely off the handle. With a sincere apology and promise from the manager of free beverages for the remainder of the week, Bakugou was satisfied. Then when he had arrived at the agency, Denki was his usual bright self and it was just TOO early to deal with right now. "Morning, Kacchan! It is such a beautiful day on your Birth - MMPH!", Kaminari's eyes widened at the sudden hand placed over his mouth. "Keep that mouth of yours shut, Dunce. None of these extras need to know that it is my birthday." , Bakugou glared as he pulled his hand away. "Right right! Sorry man!", Kaminari held his hands up in submission as Bakugou turned and headed into his office. Bakugou closed the door behind him and moved to sit back in his chair at his desk. He sighed in frustration at the long day that was ahead of him. In all honesty, he regretted not taking the day off like Kirishima had told him to do. Sometimes his stubbornness really did work against him. He then decided to pull out his cell phone and text his boyfriend. "Did you really have to remind the extras that it is my birthday today? Now I am going to be bombarded by shitty "happy birthdays" all damn day.", Bakugou wrote Kirishima, not as angry about it as he was proclaiming to be. Kirishima rolled his eyes fondly as he read over his boyfriend's aggravated text and replied back as he formulated a plan in his head. "You will be fine, grouchy pants. We all appreciate and care about you so just get to deal with it ;)." "Fiiiiiine……. But I am still going to bitch about it the ENTIRE time :P. Thank you…….very much, ya loser." Bakugou smirked at the last text message he had sent to Kirishima. He knew his brattiness was going to get him into trouble. Luckily for him, that is exactly what he had wanted. It had been about 3 weeks since his last "correction" and he much needed the outlet. The rest of the day had gone unbelievably uneventful, which had just upset Bakugou more. The only thing that really sated his aggression was the "Happy Birthdays" that he had complained about earlier. Now he was pleased to FINALLY go home to Kirishima and to what awaited him when he walked in. With a quick change into a black tank top, black sweat pants, and slip-off black shoes, Bakugou made a beeline for home. Opening up the door, Bakugou was greeted by Kirishima, arms folded with a smirk upon his face. "Loser, huh? That is not a very nice thing to say to your boyfriend." "Heh…and what are you going to do it about, loser?", Bakugou began to walk past Kirishima, smirking as he let the brattiness take full reign. Kirishima unfolded his arms and quickly grabbed Bakugou's wrists and pulled him to his chest. Kirishima chuckled at seeing Bakugou's smirk and shook his head. "Seems like you just can't wait for some correcting, can you? Well then……..since we can't just ask for what we want, like adults, this isn't going to be very nice." Kirishima had then led Bakugou to their room, under-the-bed cuffs already visible and waiting for the guest of honor, on their king-size bed. Giving a firm nudge and stare of not to push his luck, Bakugou crawled onto the bed and set himself up in the bounds, except for his left arm. "Good boy", Kirishima stated as he walked over and sat at Bakugou's left side, finishing his restraints, "Rules remain the same as last time. "Green" is good to go, "Yellow" is I need a break, "Red" is if something is wrong, "Quirk" is done for the night. So then, color?" "Green. Just get on with it already, Ei. ", Bakugou fidgeted as the on-setting nerves began to take over. "Ever so eager for your destruction, aren’t you?", Kirishima replied as he placed his fingers under the shirt and upon Bakugou's

bare sides, drawing teasing caresses along the goose-pimpled flesh. "Sh-Shuhuhut up! D-Dohon't call mehehehe out lihihike thahat!", Bakugou squirmed at the teasing, both verbal and physical. Kirishima smirked at how easily Bakugou had caved and immediately started giggling. Normally there was just a bit more coaxing but it had seemed Bakugou truly did want this. Happy to indulge, Kirishima fluttered and goosed along the sides and stomach of his giggly boyfriend. "Oh? Sooooo don't call you out that you are just like your childhood best friend and LOVE being tickled into oblivion. Ooooooh I would never do that." "Gehehehehe! Y-Yohohou are suhuhuhuch ahahahan ASS! Ahahahaha! NO! No no no no nohohohahahaha!", Bakugou pulled at his bonds to protect himself, but it was fruitless. He could only shake his head as those teasing fingers moved to his oblivion. Kirishima grinned with playful evilness as he laid his weight over Bakugou's stomach and wiggled his fingers upon his uppermost most ribs. The sight before him was something to be greatly treasured. He watched Bakugou, head thrown back, back arched. and cackling up a storm as his worst spot was tasered without remorse. "Heh heh heh! I am an ass, huh? Fine then…..I will be the ass that is going to make you sorry.", Kirishima chuckled as his fingers continued their assault on the tender spots upon both sides of Bakugou's ribs. "SHIHIHIT!! NOHOHOHO!! Y-YOHOHOU CAN'T!! HAHAHAHAH!! YOU CAHAHAHAN'T!! AAHAHAHAHA!!" "Oh? But I can, you see? You just can't stop me at all. Maaaaaaaybe some nice words will make me go somewhere else." "PL-PLEHEHEHASE!! I DOHOHON'T WAHANT IT TOHOHO EHEHEND YET!! PLEHEHEHASE!! "Since you have asked so nicely I will move somewhere else." Kirishima smiled fondly down at Bakugou as he caught his breath. He pulled away from the blonde and moved higher up on the bed. The balled fists of his angry boy caught his eye and he nodded to himself, having chosen his next spot to play with. Kirishima reached forward and took Bakugou's left fist in his hands. In turn, Bakugou looked up at him and whined at Kirishima's next target but willingly opened his hand. Soon as the fingers were held back and an index finger drawing figures eights in his palm, he was lost to giggles again. Bakugou would never forget the day when his loveable boyfriend had found out that his palms were quite soft and incredibly ticklish to light touches. That whole night was filled with helpless giggles as his hands were held captive to teasing thumbs caressing while cruel arms and fingers held him captive. "Gehehehehehe! Why? Why thahahat spohohot?", Bakugou tittered out as he shook his head side to side at the feather-light sensations. "Because you have such adorable giggles when you are teased here. It is such a shame you don't let others hear you this happy.", Kirishima stated as he kept a steady pace on Bakugou's palm. "Nohohoho way aham I lehetting anyone else hear mehehehe gihihiggle." "But if you did, you probably would get tickled a whooooooole lot more. Obviously, this would be the only way to hear them so freely after all." The whine and deep red blush that dusted over Bakugou's cheeks were so worth it. Kirishima knew that there was little to no chance Bakugou would ever let anyone have him this vulnerable. This was his and his alone to treasure and enjoy. To be fair, he often went back and forth himself about wanting anyone else knowing that Bakugou was such a tickling masochist. About 45 minutes had passed, filled with switched spots along Bakugou's upper body and legs as well as playful banter mixed with laughter, before the code word "Yellow" was spoken. Kirishima had quickly stopped and given Bakugou a much-needed breather with comforting strokes through his hair. "Doing okay, Bakubabe?" Bakugou snorted at the silly pet name but nodded his head with a smile. He was beginning to reach his limit which meant Kirishima would finish him off by going for the soles of his feet next. Kirishima had stupidly called

it his "head to toe" treatment and it was a satisfaction guarantee. Bakugou knew he was going to be dead ass tired after this, that was for sure. He had contemplated coming home in his Hero boots just to see the look of sheer pouting upon Kirishima's face again. That "correction" had been spent completely on his feet after Kirishima stubbornly unbuckled each buckle and slipped the boots off. The whole idea backfired for poor Bakugou after having realized WAY too late that those boots of his made his soles much more susceptible to teasing. Kirishima enjoyed the hell out of it greatly. "Heh heh heh….yeah….I'm Greeheeheen…..I aham about dohone though." "Finale time it is then." Kirishima then moved to the end of the bed and slipped off Bakugou's last remaining shoe. It seems one had been dislodged during the beginning of the session. Giggling at the silliness of that, Kirishima had begun to stroke his fingers along the arches of Bakugou's soles. The reaction was instant. "Hahahahahaha! Dahahahamnit! It TIHIHICKLES!! Hahahahahaha!" "Oh, it can't possibly tickle THAT bad. You are not even laughing as hard as you would be if I were tickling your upper ribs." Kirishima playfully antagonized Bakugou, fingers caressing at the inner arch and instep. "Why dohohoes thahahahat TIHIHICKLE sohohoho much!! "Oh, I don't know. Maybe because your feet are a close second to your upper ribs." "Thahahahat was RHETORICAL!! Aahahahahaha!! ASSHOHOHOLE!!" Kirishima shook his head and smirked, now wiggling his fingers slowly upon the wiggling toes. "You never learn, do you? That mouth of yours will always get you into trouble." "AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! FUHUHUCK! AHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Bakugou had tried his best to stay strong and tough out the extreme sensations, but he was exhausted. "AAAHAHAHA!! QUIRK!! QUHUHUHUHIHIHIHIHRK!! AAHAHAHAHA!!" Kirishima stopped once again and let Bakugou out of his restraints. Pulling him into a hug and holding him close, Kirishima rubbed Bakugou's back and whispered that he did such a good job. "Happy Birthday, my Dynamite." Happily worn out and relaxed, Bakugou yawned out a "Thank You". Soon after, he was out like a light using Kirishima's shoulder as a pillow. Kirishima smiled fondly down at his boyfriend and decided a nap together was just what they needed.

#bnha tickle #bnha tickling #tickle fic #mha tickle #kiribaku #ticklish!bakugou #tickling #tickle blog #ticklish bakugou

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lunnybunny12 · 4 years ago

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Sandor Clegane X reader (Rory)

MODERN AU

A/N: This is a modern AU based off of this headcanon.

Word count: 2036

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol, mentions of death

Master List

As an Infantry Soldier, Sandor served in the field, working to defend his country against any threats on the ground. He'd capture, destroy, and deter enemy forces, assist in reconnaissance, and help mobilize troops and weaponry to support the mission as the ground combat force. He'd seen good people get murdered, shot, hanged, killed. People with families to get back to and friends who would miss them. Sandor had neither, and yet he was allowed to return.

He took a large gulp of his drink and looked at his surroundings. Sandor had been to the bar many times before and the familiar hum of other patrons as they'd pull frothing glasses of beer to their lips was there like always. He heard the occasional clicks from the back where the pool-tables were placed. The smell of alcohol, snow and pine-scented air freshener drifted through the air as you dragged a damp rag across the bar.

"Oi Barkeep. Beer." Sandor called, fiddling some change from his pocket.

"Keys first, Dogface. Then you can drink," You retorted, not moving from your place at the bar. (Dogface- A nick-name for Infantrymen because they sleep in "Pup-tents" and hide in "dugouts")

Sandor sighed in annoyance and paused to look at you. It hadn't been the first time you had told him this, he never understood why but he knew full well that you weren't joking with him.

"Again?"

"Yes, again. now hand them over."

He begrudgingly did as he was told and slid the car keys across the bar, avoiding your outstretched hand completely. You snatched them away and placed them in your pocket, with a fake glare.

"Good boy. They'll be in the same place when you come to pick them up tomorrow." You said popping of the cap of a beer and sliding it towards him and going back to cleaning the bar.

"You're lucky you're one of the few people I can stand in this town" He grumbled.

"Oh I feel so honoured" you joked and rolled your eyes.

Since there were other customers to attend to you couldn't talk long, but it's not like he'd say much to you anyway. The community he had found himself in was quite tight-knit. Everyone knew everyone and it was tricky to not run into someone who had something to talk about. Sandor however was a very quiet individual who often kept to himself making him stand out to many of the residents.

As the night continued and other staff started their shifts, Sandor found himself looking at you from time to time. He watched you collect glasses, chat to customers, tell jokes and take orders. He found himself doing it allot recently and he didn't understand why. At some points, he had even begun te eavesdrop on your conversations since he had nothing better to do.

"Ah (y/n) hows Rory? Heard the lad had an accident" A customer asked as you took their order.

Sandor's ears pricked up. He'd never heard of a Rory before at least not from you, and from what he knew there wasn't a Rory in the village.

"Yeah, the silly thing fell down the stairs and hurt his leg. He's upstairs having a lie-down. he should be up and about in a few days though," You chuckled.

You had changed so much since he was dragged off to the army. You weren't a crazy teenager anymore but a grown woman, with a proper paying job and a life outside of work. Yet you were still the same when it came to your personality: humerus, silly, carefree, cheerful and stupid... my god were you stupid, you had to have been to be his friend.

"Right, consider me.. clocked out" You smiled to yourself and looked at Sandor.

"Why do you need to clock out? You own the bloody place." Sandor said.

"Yes, but its this new fangled technology thing that Mr Ray insisted I use, and you know what he's like. 'His town his rules.' Plus it helps me keep tabs on whos working."

"At least you understand half of the tripe you just said." Sandor joked taking another sip of his drink.

You rolled your eyes and patted his shoulder as you headed towards the door. "Goodnight everyone!" You yelled earning a cheer of goodnights.

Everything was different when Sandor went away. One day he was there and the next he wasn't, no warning, just a letter that said that he had been accepted into the army and to not expect him back for a long time, that was if he came back at all.

When he did eventually return he had also changed. His personality remained the same, as you expected but he had changed physically. He was taller, broader and stronger and his hair had been cut making his burn a more prominent feature.

If it was up to you, you would've stayed away from him but since yours was the only bar in town, he would come for a drink. Out of politeness you talked to him and sent the occasional harmless jab his way and in return he was civil. You were still angry that he hadn't said goodbye but you still cared, you must have done to take his keys.

It was misty that morning. All mornings were misty since the Autumn season rolled around. You loved Autumn. You loved the feeling of the wind rushing past your face and how the leaves crunched beneath your boots. Your favourite place to walk was at the park and since Rory had stopped limping around your apartment, you thought the park was a good idea.

Rory was a large thing. The hound was easily half your height when stood on all fours and towered above you when on his hind. In his youth, he would have been jet black and full of energy but as he aged, the fur around his snout and paws had dimmed to a light grey and he had mellowed out.

As you walked along the wet grass a sudden yelp bit through the air.

"Someone get their fucking dog!"

You immediately ran to the voice to see Sandor, on the ground with your dog licking his face.

"Rory! come here. You silly thing" you laughed as you latched the lead onto the dog's collar and pulled him away from Sandor.

The man looked awful. His hair was a mess and he was covered in dirt. The shirt he wore was the same as the day prior and he seemed half asleep.

"Were you sleeping in the bush?"

"Oh yes, I'm fine thanks for asking" Sandor huffed as he pulled himself off of the grass.

He was in a mood and in all honesty, you would be too if you were sleeping in a bush.

"What kind of dog is that? Looks like a living mop"

"He's a wolfhound and I can guarantee he's cleaner than you."

"Well, you try and stay clean when you've been sleeping in the park for 5 days," Sandor growled, dusting off some leaves from his pants.

"5 days?" you asked. "You've been sleeping here for 5 DAYS! What happened to your apartment?"

"No money to pay for an apartment."

"What about your job?"

"Why do you care?" Sandor asked, bending down to grab the blanket that was hidden in the shrubbery. He was about to walk away until you stood in front of him with a serious look.

"I care because we were friends once and I'll be dumbed if I let my friend sleep in the cold. So I will ask again... What about your job?"

The look Sandor gave you wasn't out of shock or surprise. It was a look of familiarity. A look of relaxed friendliness that you hadn't seen since before he left.

Sandor sighed and scratched his neck. " My job fired me a few weeks ago. Said that 'I have talents that could be useful elsewhere.'"

"They fired you without reason?"

"I stacked boxes (Y/n) and that's all I did."

"Load of cunts," you sighed. "Right you're coming home with me, you're gonna get a shower and we can talk about a job later."

"I didn't ask for your help."

"No, but you're getting it anyway. Follow me Dogface."

A month had passed since then and things once again changed.

You gave Sandor a job at the bar more suited to his skillset and became the security. The town was a tourist hotspot in the summer months and you would get the occasional rowdy bunch that you nor the rest of the residents liked to deal with. In the other months, Sandor would just hang around, help with any shipments that required heavy lifting and occasionally cover for a staff member. Since you couldn't have him sleeping in his car or in a bush you gave him the spare room in your apartment and when he could afford it he insisted on paying rent and wouldnt take no for an answer.

One day when Sandor came back from his shift, he was met with you, laying on the couch with Rory draped over you with his head on your chest. Rory had done this more than once and you thought it was adorable, whether it was to protect you or because he was cold you didn't know but it was adorable just the same.

"You look comfortable," Sandor said slipping off his shoes at the door.

"Oh, I am. Very much so. I was in the mood for cuddles and since you weren't here Rory stepped up" you joked, petting the sleeping dog.

At the corner of your eye, you saw Sandor's demeanour change. He straightened his posture and took a sharp breath in.

"You alright?

"I'm fine. move your legs." Sandor said sitting on the couch beside you as he leaned to grab the tv remote.

He had been doing that a lot. Whenever you joked about ding something a couple would do, he would shy away or close himself off and to be honest you were only half-joking. It why you were so upset when he left without a word of warning. You liked him but if he liked you was a different story.

"You jealous?" You asked

"Jealous?" Sandor chuffed. "Of Rory? Nah. You wouldn't go for an old dog like him"

"I like old dogs. They have more charm and personality than the younger ones." You answered as you ran your fingers through Rory's fur and kissed him on the head.

Sandor sighed and continued to look at the TV. He looked so handsome to you, he always did. Sure he was rough around the edges but its what drew you to him in the first place.

"I like you too, you know."

"What?" Sandor laughed and looked a you. He thought you were joking like you usually did but by the look on your face, you weren't.

By that point Rory had jumped off of the couch to get some water, allowing you to sit properly.

"I like you, Dogface."

"In what way?"

"In a romantic way... since before you left" a second of silence cut between you when you started laughing at yourself. Like a real laugh. "I don't know why I'm telling you this, it's not like you feel the same anyways."

"How do you know I don't like ya?"

"Look at me, Sandor. The only men in my life are you, the customers and my dog, I'm not exactly a noble-born am I? Just a daft bar made"

You stood up and walked to the fridge to grab a few beers.

"I like a daft bar made. They're way more entertaining than the smart ones."

"Very funny" you said handing him a bottle and sitting back on the couch with a huff.

"I also like my bar made: brave, and strong, and funny. With... a nice dog and a home of her own. Look, I like you too. I like being around you. I...I like your face."

You laughed and shuffled closer to him and leant your head on his shoulder.

"Cute" you mumbled and leant up to kiss his cheek. " I like your face too"

#game of thrones x reader #game of thrones #sandor clegane x reader #sandor clegane #sandor clegane x you #sandor the hound clegane #sandor x reader #the hound x reader #the hound #sandor clegane deserves the world #house clegane

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poodlejoonas · 3 years ago

Text

Tommi - Trust Me

For @bcfanweek Day 5: Tommi Lalli

Words: 1,204

Description: When Tommi has a stressful day and refuses to talk about it, the two of you share a moment of playful intimacy.

Notes: Tommi Lalli/Reader (gender unspecified)

It was almost midnight and you were beginning to worry about Tommi’s whereabouts. He texted you earlier to let you know that he would be home late, but you didn't expect this hour. Instead of sleep, you chose to stay awake with whatever shitty movie you could find on Netflix. You debated calling him, until you heard the door finally unlock.

You and Tommi moved in a few months ago. Learning to cohabitate with him has been a lot smoother of a process than you thought. He’s considerately quiet around you when you’re asleep, and he’s a master in the kitchen. Now that the band’s summer tour around Finland is less than 48 hours away, you’re getting ready to be alone for a couple months. Recently, the two of you have barely even had a chance to see each other because of the hours he’s pulling in rehearsals.

Tommi dropped his bag on the floor by the door. His heaved sighs sounded completely exhausted. Normally, he would call out your name as soon as he came in, but tonight it must have slipped his mind. There was no reason to get annoyed about it, but it certainly made you concerned. He’s normally never this quiet when he comes home.

“Hey, kulta?” you called out.

He looked up from the floor and finally made eye contact, smiling at first sight. “Hey, love. I’m sorry I didn’t notice you sooner.” He came over to you and wrapped his arms around you in a hug. He felt tense under your touch. You’ve recently learned the way to rub his shoulders that he’s fallen in love with. Maybe that’s what he needed.

“You must be tired, Tommi,” you said to him with empathy. “Do you need me to do anything for you? Are you hungry?”

Tommi just shook his head no. “I think I’m just gonna take a shower and go to sleep tonight. Management wants us back tomorrow morning at 9 AM. If that’s okay with you?”

What did he think you were gonna say - no? You patted him on the shoulders and gave him a gentle shove towards the bathroom. You weren’t tired, so you were probably going to stay up for another hour or so. But Tommi continued to cross your mind. A full day at the studio, and unless they ordered food while they were there, he must have been starving. Maybe he was anxious about the tour, or maybe something happened at the studio was weighing heavily on his conscience. You and Tommi talk about everything together, so his silence was deafening.

You passed by the bathroom when the water was first turning on. A thought crossed your mind, one that you couldn’t pass up to try. You waited a few minutes and decided to step into the bathroom.

He had his eyes closed so he could wash his hair. You tiptoed the entire way, until you decided to slip into the shower behind him. “Hi, Tommi Bear,” you started, startling him for a second. You quickly apologized and asked if it was okay for you to join him here.

“I mean… sure, you’re already here, aren’t you?”

You couldn’t quite place that reaction, so you worried if he was annoyed with you. “I’m sorry, Tommi,” you apologized again. “I just thought that we haven’t seen each other much for a while…”

While you spoke, he gave you space to step under the shower head. You took that as an invitation that he was going to let you stay.

“We haven’t seen each other much lately, and I worry about you sometimes.”

He scoffed, but totally lighthearted and kind. “Worry? About little-old-me?”

You laughed. “Yes, even about little-old-you.” You broke out that cutesy tone of voice that he loves. “You’ve been away for so many long hours, and you’re about to leave me for two months. I’ve been missing you lately.”

Tommi squeezed some shampoo in his hand and ran his fingers through his hair. “I know my love, and I’m sorry for that. I can’t thank you enough for being patient with me.” He sighed. “My shoulders already hurt so fucking bad. There’s been so much rehearsing going on at the studio that I don’t know how I’m gonna get through the whole tour.”

“Have you told the guys yet?”

“About what?” he rearranged the two of you so that now he was under the running water.

“About your arms. You shouldn’t do permanent damage to your health for the sake of playing.”

“We’re all tired and sore, and I don’t want to be the only one bitching about it.”

You poured soap into the wet wash rag and began to clean his back. He groaned with comfort at the way it felt. You took this to your advantage, sliding closer to him and holding onto him in a hug. “I think everyone’s complaining to someone but they just don’t want to tell any of you. It’s not a sign of weakness.”

Tommi paused for a second and then nodded. “I see. We just don’t do that. It wouldn’t be fair to make the others think they need to worry about us.”

You couldn’t quite understand the logic, but that was just how the band worked. In all honesty, with that much pent-up emotion, you’re surprised that there haven’t been bigger fights between them. Before Tommi leaves for this tour, you’re determined to make him relax and unwind for a bit.

“Anything I can do to help?” you asked again. You first proposed this question when he came in, but that was long before you got him to open up. Now that he was in your arms and you could feel some of the tension floating away, perhaps he had a different answer.

Tommi sighed. “Can you just hold me for a second?” He sounded so tired, so pitiful that it made your heart ache. He never lets this side of him get put on display. “This is nice, though.”

You chuckled. “My pleasure. I thought I’d give you a surprise.”

“But I won’t lie, for a second I thought Pennywise had my ass.”

You burst into a full cackle. Tommi was always considered the funny one of the team but a Stephen King reference was totally out of the ballpark. “No, no demon hell clowns tonight. But, if you wanted -”

“Oh hell no,” he interrupted with a laugh. “I’ll try anything once, but I better not see any clowns in my house when this tour is over.”

“No guarantees!”

“Hey!”

This banter with him is always nice, but it sounds sweeter knowing that he was barely speaking 20 minutes ago. Your favorite Tommi was coming back slowly. He held onto you as the water continued to wash over the both of you. He was soft under your touch but even now, sexual intimacy was the last thing on your mind. You only wanted him close, the real him who’s not afraid to laugh around you and tell you exactly how he feels.

“Thank you,” he whispered in his ear. “You just get me.”

You smiled against his bare shoulder, still refusing to let him go. “My pleasure, Tommi Bear.”

#bcfanweek #blind channel #tommi lalli #blurbs #i need to make more content for this boy #teddy bear

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spencers-renaissance · 4 years ago

Text

The Noiseless Crash of Crumbling Walls

Summary: After Derek and Spencer are paired up on a science project in their senior year of high school, they become the closest, most unlikely friends possible. But what happens when Derek finally finds out what Spencer's dealing with at home? Inspired by the prompt “where did you get those bruises?”

Tags: high school au, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, hurt spencer, protective derek, abuse, friendship, pre-slash, spencer just turned 16, derek is almost 18

Word Count: 4.6k

Pairing: Derek Morgan & Spencer Reid

Masterlist // Read on AO3 // Part Two

This is a platonic Derek & Spencer friendship fic because they are minors, but there are seeds being fairly obviously sown for part two of this series which will be set when they are both over the age of 18.

Spencer unfolds the creased piece of paper he’s holding for the eleventh time as he stares up at the house in front of him. He remembers the address scrawled on the sheet Derek Morgan had ripped from the back of his notebook earlier that day perfectly, the spiky peaks of his handwriting and the surprisingly loopy ‘y’s and ‘g’s are burned into his brain, but nerves have overtaken his helpless body. He’s not exactly in control of his actions.

It’s not much but it’s definitely a cheerful house, that much is clear from the brightly lit windows and colourful curtains, the many gnomes decorating the front garden and the carefully planted flowers neighbouring the vegetable patch. One of the windows upstairs is cracked slightly and he can hear 90s R&B floating through the airwaves, accompanied by a female singing voice. The welcome he knows he’ll receive, though, is exactly what’s giving him pause.

A happy home is so foreign to him he has no idea how to behave. He’s used to being the adult, but tonight he has to play the 16 year old he is, and his mask is so dusty and disused he’s worried he won’t be anywhere close to convincing.

Eventually, though, he summons up the courage to make his way up the stony path leading to the bright red front door. A brass knocker stares him in the face, but there’s a doorbell to his right as well, and the choice debilitates him for a moment, leaving him standing uselessly on the front step. He decides on the doorbell, since it’s a little more subtle, and he only has to wait a couple of seconds before the door is being yanked open and a smiling Derek Morgan is right in front of him.

“I thought you’d never come.” His voice is bright and cheery but Spencer wonders for a moment if he’s mad at him. He’d been early when he first turned onto Derek’s road, but his over-thinking and ritualistic obsession over the address written on a scrap piece of paper had made him late.

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly, and his desperation to be understood, his clear discomfort in such a foreign environment must be obvious, because Derek’s face softens even further.

“Don’t be ridiculous, pretty boy,” he grins, slinging an arm around his shoulders and leading him deeper into the hallway as he kicks the door shut behind them.

Pretty boy. He’d used the nickname once earlier that day when they were planning when to meet up for their science project, and Spencer had flushed immediately. No-one’s ever called him pretty. He’s an awkward, lanky 16 year old senior who’s far too short for his age; his appearance isn’t exactly conducive to flattery.

The last time anyone had called him by a fond nickname was when he was eleven years old and his mother was still somewhat rational. She’d pulled him close and called him her baby boy, and while some pre-teens might have recoiled from such a name, he simply snuggled closer and tried to remember every second he was wrapped up in such warmth. Five years later, he’s so thankful he did. He replays it most nights before he drops off to sleep.

He blushes again at Derek’s easy affection, trying to relax into the warmth of his house.

“Is that your friend, honey?” A woman emerges from what Spencer assumes is the kitchen, drying her hands on a teatowel. She looks every bit the stereotypical American mother, dressed in casual, comfortable clothes with a warm smile plastered across her face. “It’s so nice to meet you, sweetheart. I’m Fran, Derek’s mom.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” he says shyly, trying to meet her eyes but failing miserably. He can’t help that this whole experience is so out of his comfort zone it’s ridiculous.

“Do you boys want any snacks to take up with you?”

“Are you hungry, Spencer?” Derek asks, and he internally panics for a moment. Yes, is the answer. Yes, I’m so hungry. The only thing I’ve eaten today is an apple this morning. But is he allowed to say that? He examines the both of them and it does look like a genuine offer, but will they guess that something is wrong if he says yes? It’s only six o’clock, though, so maybe he can swing it.

“Yes please,” he dares, “I haven’t had dinner yet.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” Fran says, putting her hands on her hips. “You both head on up. I’ll bring up a tray.”

Derek’s room is big, filled with football trophies and posters. It’s so achingly normal that Spencer’s stomach clenches as he gingerly takes a seat on his bed at Derek’s instruction.

“I did some research that will help us with our presentation,” Spencer offers as Derek sits on his desk chair, spinning around to face him.

It had been a shock when they’d been paired up. Derek’s friends had hollered and laughed when their chemistry teacher had paired them together, and Spencer had gone bright red at the humiliation, not that he could exactly blame them. Pairing up the skinny nerd who’d been moved up two grades with the jock who was almost guaranteed a football scholarship to an excellent university later this year had been a rather bizarre choice on their teacher’s part.

It’s not that Spencer minded: along with being the quarterback with a 4.0 GPA, he was also painfully nice. But everyone else certainly did. Every girl in their science class had sent him death glares as Derek had sauntered over to his desk at the end of class, wearing a lazy grin.

“Chill, pretty boy,” Derek chuckles as he pushes himself side to side in his spinning chair. “We got time.”

“I have to be back home by 9,” Spencer says sheepishly. He’s sure most people in their senior year are allowed to stay out later than that, and he hopes against hope Derek thinks it’s only because he’s sixteen and not that he has to get his mother into bed and try and force her meds down her throat so she won’t wake him up in the middle of the night convinced the shadows in her room are government spies.

“Still three hours. Anyway, I’m sure my mom can drop you home,” Derek shrugs. “It’s not a big deal. Besides, we have weeks until we have to present. Why don’t we spend tonight getting to know each other? I feel like I should know a little bit about my project partner, especially if we’re going to be working together for the rest of the year.”

“The rest of the year?” His voice squeaks anxiously but he can’t help it, Derek’s completely catching him off guard.

“Yeah. Ms Farron keeps partners from the first project together for every assignment that year.”

This is news to Spencer, but he tries to keep calm. It’s a good thing, right? Derek has always been friendly to him, and he’s intelligent, too. It’s unlikely he’ll fob all the work off onto him. But being taken advantage of and subsequently left alone is what he’s used to: ‘getting to know each other’ is decidedly new territory. Spencer’s head is spinning.

“Oh.”

“So, pretty boy,” Derek grins, giving himself another 360 spin, “tell me what a 16 year old is doing in senior year.”

“I got moved up two grades back in elementary school,” he explains, grateful that this is at least a rather impersonal topic. “My teachers wanted me even higher but two grades is the maximum our school district allows.”

“I guessed that much,” Derek points out. “Why were you moved up two grades?”

They’re briefly interrupted by Fran’s delivery of a delectable spread for them to feast on. Spencer reaches for a cracker and dips it in some cream cheese, but as soon as he’s swallowed his first bite, Derek gives him a look that tells him he hasn’t exactly gotten away with it.

He sighs. “The last time I was tested, I had an IQ of 187,” he admits, looking down at his worn sneakers. He’d expected to be told to remove them, but he’s glad he wasn’t. His socks almost certainly have holes in them, and laundry isn’t something he can afford to do often. “And I have an eidetic memory.”

Derek lets out a low whistle. “Damn, I knew you were a genius but that’s some next level shit,” he says, before popping a grape in his mouth. “You’re going places, Spencer Reid.” He’s saved from having to fight his blush too hard by Derek moving swiftly on. “Your turn to ask me a question.”

Spencer takes a second to think before deciding to push the boat out, to ask something he actually wants to know instead of playing it safe. “You’re popular, star of the football team, get straight As,” he starts slowly, not meeting Derek’s eyes. “What makes you so nice? You could easily join in with your friends and be another asshole jock pushing me into lockers.”

When he looks up, Derek’s face is an array of emotions. “Kindness costs nothing,” he says seriously, and the intensity of his gaze surprises Spencer. “I saw my pops shot to death in front of me when I was ten and I got my ass kicked every day in freshman year, believe it or not. I know what kindness can mean to a person just as much as I know what cruelty does to someone.”

Spencer doesn’t really know what to say to that, but he knows that he’s finally relaxed a little. Derek’s stark honesty and vulnerability, as much as he doesn’t know quite the right way to react, is refreshing to him, and it’s made the icon of their school seem much more human.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Spencer says quietly.

“Thanks, man,” Derek says, a half smile crossing his face. “What about your family life?”

Spencer swallows another bite of his cream cheese and crackers, his empty stomach thanking him for finally filling it. “My dad walked out when I was ten,” he admits, treading as carefully as possibly. “It’s just me and my mom now.”

“I’m sorry. Are you and your mom close?”

How does he answer a question like that? They’re close in the respect that Spencer cares for her and spends every free moment he has with her. But he also holds his breath every time he turns down his street, half expecting to see his house up in flames, and they’re going hungry this week because she threw most of their groceries in a nearby river after convincing herself it was all poisoned. They don’t exactly have a typical mother-son relationship.

“Something like that,” he mumbles, stuffing another cracker into his mouth. Derek clearly takes the hint that he doesn’t want to elaborate and moves on.

They spend the rest of the evening taking it in turns asking one another questions, ranging from simple ones like their favourite colours to deeper conversations around their future plans and biggest fears. By the time 9 rolls around, they’re lying next to one another on Derek’s bed both facing the ceiling as they trade questions back and forth. Fran’s dinner tray is now covered in crumbs, her carefully prepared spread having been demolished by two hungry teenagers.

Their assigned topic, Enthalpy, Entropy, and Free Energy, hasn’t even been touched, and Spencer can’t find it in him to care. He could throw together a perfect presentation the night before if he needed to. Right now, getting to know Derek Morgan seems far more important. Ironically, the boy he’s only really started to get to know three hours ago is probably the person who knows him best in this whole world, and the thought makes his chest hurt.

The jittery nerves that had consumed him at the start of the evening have dissipated into a calm companionship, and he can’t believe how comfortable he now feels. He doesn’t want to leave, but he has to take care of his mom; she’s already been on her own for so long today.

As if on cue, Fran knocks on the door, poking her head round. “Would you like me to drop you home, Spencer?”

He feels guilty accepting, but the last thing he wants is a twenty minute walk home through the streets of Chicago in the pitch black December night. “Yes, please.”

Derek comes with them for the short drive, and Spencer feels a little embarrassed as he points out the apartment block he lives in. It’s a shitty neighbourhood and his building is crumbling, but it’s home and it’s the cheapest they can afford on welfare. He ducks out of the car and shoots them both a grateful smile.

“Thank you for driving me home, Fran,” he says. “And thank you for a nice evening, Derek.”

“No problem, pretty boy,” Derek winks. “I’ll find you at school tomorrow and we’ll sort out another night to meet up, yeah?”

The smile the Morgans put on his face doesn’t fade until he opens the door to his apartment and reality brings him crashing back down to earth.

⭐️

Over the next few weeks, Spencer Reid gains his first friend. They finally end up actually writing their presentation and naturally, they get an A+ but Spencer’s anxiety that Derek would want to stop hanging out with him once the project that had brought them together was behind them ended up being for nothing. Derek had fist-bumped him as they’d walked out of their classroom. “Come over tonight?” he’d asked, and once Spencer had recovered from his shock, he’d beamed and nodded excitedly.

As Christmas comes and goes, they continue their bizarre friendship. Spencer runs up to Derek’s room as soon as the door is opened, and dives under the covers on his bed, always freezing cold. The first time Derek had cuddled Spencer, he hadn’t been able to stop smiling. He’s seriously touch-starved, and it’s only more apparent from the way he craves contact with Derek. He’s ridiculously thankful that the older boy is so free with his affection, not consumed by the same toxic masculinity that seems to plague the rest of the football team.

It’s nearing February when Derek asks the fatal question.

Spencer had whizzed home after school and made sure his mom was okay before running over to Derek’s, breezing past Sarah on the staircase and diving onto the soft, clean bed sheets. He’s sometimes jealous of all the home comforts his friend has access to, but he does his best to tamp it down. It’s not like it’s Derek’s fault that he’s well-loved and cared for.

“Whoa, pretty boy,” Derek chuckles as he spins around from where he’s doing homework at his desk. “Where’s that shy boy who sat right on the edge of my bed only two months ago, hm?”

“You prefer confident Spencer and you know it.” He moves up the bed a little to sit with his back against the headboard. He’s never become so comfortable around a person this quickly before but there’s something different about Derek.

“Can’t argue with that.” He gets off the chair and moves to sit next to Spencer on the bed, lifting his arm to let the smaller boy cuddle close. Spencer sometimes has nightmares that the boys at school find out how affectionate they are with one another and call them gay after which Derek doesn’t want to hang out with him anymore. (Secretly, he thinks he might actually be gay, but he won’t tell Derek that. Just in case.)

“Can I stay for dinner?” he asks. It’s a moot point: Spencer always asks if he can stay and the Morgans always say yes, but he doesn’t like assuming, especially since he knows how expensive food is. Not that Fran has ever complained about an extra mouth to feed, though. The dinners at Derek’s house are always a family affair, full of laughter and hearty, homemade meals and Spencer likes pretending he’s one of them, just for a little while.

The guilt that he’s leaving his mom for so long eats him up, only eased by the knowledge that she usually sleeps the afternoon away, worn out by a manic morning. He has no idea how to navigate this anymore. It was easier when the only person he had in the world was his mom, but now he has Derek and his family. And as much as he loves his mom and doesn’t mind taking care of her at all, spending time with Derek doesn’t automatically trigger gut-eating anxiety and heart-wrenching misery.

“Of course you can stay, don’t be ridiculous.” Derek elbows him playfully. “You don’t need to ask every night.”

“What if one night you don’t want me to stay, though?”

“I thought I told you to stop being ridiculous?”

Spencer can’t help but smile at Derek’s relaxed, easy grin. For some reason this popular football player with the world as his oyster and a million friends chooses to spend every evening with the nerd who’s two years younger than everyone in their year. For some reason, Derek chooses Spencer.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Derek asks the question. “Why don’t I come over to your place instead one evening?” It’s a casual suggestion, there’s nothing really behind it. “I’d like to meet your mom and see your bedroom. If you’re gonna make fun of my football trophies, I need some revenge material.”

Spencer freezes. He has no idea how to respond to such an innocent proposition. Derek takes his stunned silence as reluctance simply cured with a little more persuasion. “Besides,” he continues, “I feel bad that you always have to run home first before coming over here. It’s like a twenty minute walk.”

“I don’t know,” Spencer hedges, trying to buy time as he comes up with a cover story. “My mom is really particular about our space and she doesn’t really like visitors. I’m not sure your mom could spare you a family dinner anyway.” He pushes Derek playfully, hoping to God he’s even half-way convincing.

One glance at Derek’s face tells him he isn’t buying it, but he can clearly read Spencer’s troubled anxiety expression so he doesn’t push it. “Okay, pretty boy,” he says, relaxing back into the bed, “we’ll stick with the Fran Morgan dinner delight for now.”

Something tells him he won’t get so lucky next time.

⭐️

Spring is just starting to show her face the next time it comes up, and this time it’s completely Spencer’s fault. He shouldn’t have gone over to Derek’s. He should have made up an excuse and stayed in his shitty apartment with his mom, but he couldn’t help it. He was sore and desperately sad, and all he wanted was Fran’s comforting shepherd’s pie and a cuddle with Derek. So he’d made his way home, checked his mom was still sleeping before limping over to the Morgan’s.

He’d concealed it pretty well all day, but energy is seeping out of him and the pain is only getting worse, not helped by the decent trek across town.

He has a key now, so he lets himself in, hoping to avoid Fran until dinner time. Luckily, he’s quiet enough to not disturb her baking in the kitchen, so he makes his way slowly up the stairs, hoping Derek is not as perceptive tonight as he usually is. He’d briefly considered using bullies as a cover story if it came up, but Derek has spent almost every moment he could at school with him the last few days, he wasn’t out of his sight long enough to really encounter anyone cruel enough for it to be a viable story.

“Pretty boy,” Derek greets him, not turning away from the maths homework he’s finishing up. It gives Spencer a little extra time to make it to the bed like he usually does. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Spencer sighs. “A bit tired. You?”

“Training was rough today so I’m sore as shit, but otherwise I’m fine. Better now you’re here.” He turns to smile fondly at Spencer, finally locking eyes on his pale, sallow skin and defeated expression. He scrambles to try and make himself look slightly less terrible, but he’s not quick enough. “You sure you’re good? You don’t look it.”

“No, seriously, I’m fine,” Spencer tries to persuade him. “Just tired as I said. Can we watch a movie while we wait for dinner?”

Derek doesn’t look even close to convinced, but he gives in and brings up netflix on his computer. Spencer collapses against Derek and lets his eyes close as the film they choose plays across the laptop screen, but he must fall asleep because the next thing he knows, he’s being shaken awake by his friend and he’s in a completely different position.

“Spencer, wake up,” he says insistently, and the urgent worry in his tone makes him sit up, wincing when the movement aches his core.

“What? What’s wrong?” he mumbles sleepily, obediently sitting up at Derek’s instruction.

“Pretty boy,” Derek says, sounding teary and a little desperate, “where did you get those bruises?”

He freezes for a second before glancing down at himself and realising that as he’d slept his shirt had shifted, revealing his black and blue stomach. How the fuck was he going to explain this? Not seeming himself wasn’t such a challenge, everyone has their off-days after all, but bruises like these aren’t the sort of thing your best friend just drops when you don’t want to explain them.

“I—” He has no idea what to say. Tears spring to his eyes in a terribly unhelpful fashion, and Derek moves closer, wrapping Spencer up in a hug.

“It’s okay, you can tell me, Spencer,” he promises as he holds him so tenderly it breaks his heart. “Take your time.”

He cries for a good few minutes — it just feels so good to let it out — but as his painful sobs draw to a close, he knows it’s time to face the music. There’s no other option. He has to tell Derek. And maybe a teeny tiny part of him actually wants to tell his best friend.

“I haven’t been honest with you,” he confesses, keeping his head buried in his friend’s chest so he doesn’t have to look him in the eyes. Derek’s hand combing through his hair doesn’t falter. “The reason I didn’t want you to come to my place is because of my mom… She’s a paranoid schizophrenic. When my dad left I became her primary carer, and I’m— I’m not doing a good job.”

Derek holds him a little tighter and presses his cheek to the top of Spencer’s head, shushing him quietly. “Don’t say that, I’m sure you’re doing an amazing job.”

“The other night she got confused because she’d refused her meds again. She became convinced that I was a spy there to hurt her. I can usually talk her down from these moments, or at least guide her to bed to let her sleep it off, but this time there was no reasoning. Eventually, she got so worked up that she shoved me backwards, hard. It sent me sprawling face first across the coffee table, and she kicked me twice before considering herself safe and barricading herself in her room.” He tells the whole story through thick tears, shoulders still shaking with pent up emotion. He wishes it didn’t feel so good to finally get off my chest.

“Spencer, oh my God,” Derek whispers, sounding thoroughly shocked. He’s suddenly fearful that he’s going to report Diana, and he sits up, finally meeting Derek’s teary eyes with his own.

“You can’t… you can’t tell anyone,” he begs. “If anyone finds out, she’ll be locked away and I’ll be put into foster care. I can’t do that to her and I can’t lose you.”

Derek takes Spencer’s hands. “Okay, okay,” he soothes, making him calm down a little. “I promise I won’t tell anyone, okay? Not without your permission. But I also can’t let you be beat up by your mom.”

“It’s not her fault,” Spencer says desperately, “it’s not her fault. She doesn’t know what she’s doing, she thinks she’s in danger.”

“I know,” Derek promises him, “I know it’s not her fault, but she still hurt you. Has this happened before?” Spencer’s hung head and refusal to respond speaks for itself. “Okay, listen. I know you need to go home tonight, but come over tomorrow morning okay? It’s a Saturday and we can spend the morning figuring out a game plan and the afternoon taking your mind off it. How does that sound?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Is this… is this why you like being here?” Derek sounds nervous asking the question, clearly not wanting to offend him.

“Before I became friends with you,” he whispers, moving back to hide against Derek’s chest where it’s safe, “I went hungry a lot. We don’t have much money between rent and bills and mom’s medical expenses. I had to hide the groceries because she would become convinced they were poisoned and destroy them, but she got really good at finding them. I had to stop keeping them in my room because she would insist that I was corroborating with the government in trying to poison her.”

“Spencer,” Derek breathes, holding onto him for dear life. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t know about any of this, I would’ve done something, I could’ve helped.”

“I didn’t want anyone to know.”

“I’ll keep you safe now. I promise.”

When Fran comes and asks them down for dinner a few minutes later, Derek points to Spencer’s exhausted form slumped against him and asks if they can have it up in his room. She relents, and Derek manages to get him to eat a few bites of the risotto Fran had made, not leaving his safe cocoon against Derek’s chest.

He insists on driving Spencer home himself tonight, surprising Fran who had her coat and boots on already, but he escorts his friend right up to his door. “If you come in, mom will get confused,” he explains so Derek gives him a long hug in front of his apartment door instead, holding him as close as possible.

“Spencer… you know I love you right?” he asks, expression intense and serious as his gentle hands rest on his shoulders. “You’re my best friend. I’m always gonna be here for you.”

“I love you, too, Derek,” he whispers, giving him another hug. It scares him just how much he means those five little words, all the meanings that dance behind them taking him aback. For now, though, he settles on one more tight squeeze before deciding to not procrastinate the inevitable anymore. “I should go in and see mom.”

“Yeah. I’ll pick you up at 9 tomorrow?”

“Perfect.” His heart does an excited little leap at the thought of seeing Derek again in the morning. As he walks away back towards the elevators, Spencer takes a deep breath before inserting his key into the lock on his door and pushing it open. He only has to go 12 hours without seeing his best friend. He can do this.

His life suddenly seems like it holds infinitely more promise than it ever has. He supposes that’s the power of Derek Morgan.

Part Two

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @hotchgans @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith (taglist form)

#my writing #moreid #derek morgan #spencer reid #derek morgan/spencer reid #derek morgan x spencer reid #derek morgan & spencer reid #derek #spencer #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds writing #moreid fic #moreid writing #hurt spencer reid #protective derek morgan #moreid fluff #moreid angst

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ironmandeficiency · 4 years ago

Text

untitled (because it has no plot)

pairing: tech / reader

word count: 1621

summary: porn with almost no plot, no title & no apologies

a/n: tech is a tits kind of guy, you can’t change my mind

warnings: minor thigh riding, biting, normal riding, tech is the top we never knew we needed. he’s also the personification of the troubled bird painting that says “can i nest in your cleavage?”

the moment the havoc marauder’s ramp shut he was on you, giving you no time to adjust before hands wandered everywhere they could reach and lips stole your breath before giving you his. it had been too long since the two of you had any semblance of privacy and tech intended on using every second to his advantage.

you had been able to convince hunter (with enough mechanical jargon, of course) that two sets of hands were necessary to repair the ship before you’d be able to leave the latest planet. making the strenuous repairs the ship needed on your own “would have put the guys at risk if they needed a quick escape and their ride was in disrepair” and the argument was solid.

in all honesty, you were extremely exaggerating because this repair you deemed imperative to the wellbeing of your group could have gone a solid two months without being addressed. that being said, you were not going to wait two more months to get your hands on tech.

it seemed that he had the same mindset. nimble hands gripped your hips as he slowly walked the two of you backward. your boyfriend knew exactly what to do in order to get you melting against him, his slender and toned body pressing you against the ship’s walls. his tongue pushed into your mouth and you weren’t about to fight against him because the languid movements of the muscle were far too enticing and you missed it far more than you could express with words.

he groaned into your mouth when you ran a hand through his auburn hair, letting your fingernails drag along his scalp. tech’s thigh nestled itself between your legs and you held no reservations about trying to move your hips along the taut muscle.

tech didn’t approve. “oh no, my dear,” he tutted at you with his crisp accent, hands now pressing your hips against the wall with just enough force to guarantee that you weren’t going to move them without his say-so. “we’ve got plenty of time, no use limiting ourselves to the bare basics of what we need.”

he did have a fair point. that particular method of getting off was saved for expending the remnants of post-battle adrenaline and the tides of relief about him coming back in one piece. now, with the marauder vacant of any potential interruptions, you two were free to take a bit more time than you were normally allowed. this also meant indulging in your favorite carnal acts with the genius that regarded you with the highest reverence occasionally fogged by the thickest clouds of lust.

your neck’s pulse point was his latest target and he nipped and lapped at it with glee, relishing in the wanton moan with which you said his name. gods it’s been too long since he’s been able to taste your sweet skin and hold it between his teeth & he was going to enjoy every second of it.

lips moved from the pulse point and down to your clavicle, tongue collecting the fine droplets of sweat already beginning to form from the beginnings of your arousal. there was something about his tongue that sent you up a wall, the calculated fluidity tech worked it with identical to how he behaved during a mission.

when he was confident you weren’t going to try chasing your orgasm against the thigh holding you up, he slid his hands up your hips and tugged away the shirt concealing your chest from his hungry gaze, discarding it with an unfocused flick of his wrist.

“tech,” you moaned when his teeth gently grazed the valley between your breasts, catching slightly on the bra keeping your chest from spilling out. he ventured down the curve of your stomach and began to bite at the waistband of your pants, occasionally snagging the material and letting it slap against the soft skin. your hands went to your back to unclasp the infernal device and you felt him grin wildly when he identifies the action. the straps loosen around your shoulders and you let the material fall to the floor.

it’s barely a breath before his hands are on each breast, kneading and pinching your nipples. the engineer was fond of your chest, more so than the rest of your body, to the point of lavishing it with his unique brand of rapt attention every moment he could.

“so beautiful,” he mumbles into the skin between your breasts. after a few twists of the hardening bud between his fingers, his lips are on it. his mouth is hot and divinely wet against you, his teeth almost feeling sharp when they began to leave marks. canines catch on a sensitive area and you whimper, tech taking it as a cue to suck on the spot a little harder and dig his teeth in a little deeper. the hand in his hair tugs the roots at the sensation, your head falling back and gently thudding against the durasteel wall you’re pushed against.

this love of having his hair played with was discovered shortly after you joined the team. the two of you had stayed up for several hours longer than needed working on a new attachment to his vambrace and he had eventually slumped against you, head ending up in your lap. you knew that some people took comfort in people running hands through their hair and figured that it wouldn’t hurt to try. this man nearly purred at the motion and from then on, his hair was never not played with.

now you used it to your advantage, the tugs you knew he enjoyed spurring him into getting a move on. there wasn’t time to waste; even though the boys would be gone for a considerably long while, it did nothing about the fact that you’ve been depraved and you’re yearning for him.

he takes the hint and frees you from the wall, guiding you toward the cockpit where the pilot’s chair waited for its regulars. hands begin fumbling with the other’s clothes and they quickly turn into landmines on the ship’s floor, leaving you both in only underwear (which won’t stay on much longer, not at the rate you’re going).

tech takes his spot in the pilot’s chair and pulls you on top of him. it’s a dance you’ve done plenty of times and the motions only grow in their grace and familiarity. no words are shared as you tug his briefs down, nor as your underwear becomes yet another landmine. there’s nothing to say, at least not through talking. you communicate with each other through pants and whines and grips and caresses, each touch carefully translated with the ease that follows the formation of an unbreakable trust.

it’s an eternity within seconds as he pushes into you, the wait making the sensation all the more euphoric as you clench around him. the sensation has him burying his head into your chest, your now-speckled breasts a reprieve from the stimulation.

when he’s fully sheathed inside you he’s uncharacteristically still. he’s never held much patience while his desires are given to him on a silver platter and it’s got you spoiled. you try to hold out but it’s an attempt made in vain, your body revolting against your sense of control as you raise and lower yourself back onto him. he hissed through his teeth at the movement and bites the nearest patch of skin in retaliation.

you whine because of how tender your breasts are and how rough he is with them, and you whine because he just won’t give you what you both need. you whine because you’re completely fucking desperate for him to do something. hell, even if he removed you from his lap and went on about his business would have been at least some relief because he would have to move on the way out. this sitting still thing? you probably would have enjoyed the tease of it all were you not so desperate right then, but that could be pondered another time.

your whining and preening for him did the trick, flipped the switch in tech that told him to take what he needed from you, what you offered him so freely in these shared moments. he immediately set a fast, grueling pace that you both realized wouldn’t be easily kept, not after this long apart.

skin slapping skin and choked moans echoed in the cockpit as your climaxes grew near. tech strangled out praises of your beauty, how divine you felt around his cock, the sounds you made. he asked if anyone else made you feel this way, if there was anyone in the galaxy that would dare to challenge him in pleasing you.

you held nothing back as you cried out his praises and your love for him, how he was the only man that could bring you the blinding pleasure that always accompanied his touch. it was getting harder to hold on to coherent thoughts as you teetered on the edge. your hands braced themselves on his thighs as he gripped your hips and pulled you down each time he thrusted upward.

his pace had slowed to execute a few more perfectly aimed and executed thrusts. seconds later he jutted himself balls deep in you and came, your name spilling from his mouth in ragged breaths between hot, wet kisses on your breasts. hearing him so needy and feeling his release inside you sent you over the edge with him with an arched back and quaking body. time was irrelevant in the comedown, neither of you knowing or caring to know just how long you stayed in the chair wrapped up in each other.

#clone trooper tech #tech #tech x reader #the bad batch #bad batch #the bad batch x reader #clone force 99 #star wars fanfic #star wars reader insert #star wars imagines #star wars the clone wars #star wars #clone trooper x reader #sergeant hunter #wrecker #clone trooper wrecker #crosshair #clone trooper crosshair #nsft

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dismuch47 · 4 years ago

Text

ADVANCED SETTINGS (Part 2)

Winner of Scarlet Vision Drabbles votting. Because SV/WV fans are thirsty af.

So I lied. This “drabble” is mutating and I’m long-winded. There will be a part 3.

Advanced Settings: Wanda and Vision find there is more to iron out in making their relationship “work”. This section is rated Explicit.

Vision’s head reared up when he heard the bathroom door finally creak open. He turned towards Wanda, to see her large eyes downcast. Her flame-like hair was free of it’s bun, draped behind her shoulders. She had one of the hotel robes on, which concealed her slim figure in white plushness. She chanced to look up at him, like a sorry child.

The synthezoid strode over to her, wine-glass ready for her, gentle and assuring smile upon his lips.

“Vision I’m sorry-“

“Absolutely nothing to atone for-“

“-But I was being so-“

“-Honest, which I so admire in you.”

Wanda huffed, accepting the wine. Her unease appeared to be waning. “Can’t you just be upset with me? I would understand…”

“Never.” He punctuated the word, pointedly. Then smiled broadly. Wanda finally caved with a grin, looking away. Vision gently captured her chin with his thumb and index finger, directing her back to his sincere face. “My greatest satisfaction is in seeking yours. And that you somehow are able to accept me. Odd quirks and all.”

“Vis…”

Her eyes were glittering. She was experiencing strong emotion. Unclear if it was extreme sentimentality or misplaced guilt, it seemed logical to stoop down and kiss her full lips to make it better. His index finger stroked down her chin and ventured down her soft throat. Wanda’s breathing shifted as warm and featherlight touch lingered on creamy collarbone. He had become expert at these areas of sensitivity, eliciting honest breathy responses from his love of flesh and blood. Cause and reaction. Scripted and executed

But perhaps there were some modifications he could accommodate to his side of the performance. Inwardly, he did not enjoy contemplating that notion. Their relationship had, thus far, been founded on honesty and acceptance. It seemed dishonest to her and a reminder to him of his limitations by… pretending. Sex was proving to be more emotional than he had anticipated, which was an extremely murky concept for him to grasp…though, slowly, he was learning. Through Wanda, he was learning.

Wanda’s hungry stomach gurgled loudly in protest, causing the two to open their eyes at eachother mid-kiss, before breaking away in laughter.

Vision took his place on the loveseat first, angling himself so that Wanda could easily nestle her back into his side when she came over with her plate of late-night indulgences and wine. She gave a sigh of contentment once she was situated.

“Anything good on?” she asked, already working on one shrimp. Rather ungracefully. It was endearing.

“3rd Rock from the Sun, Batman, or Green Acres?” Vision turned on the hotel flatscreen.

“Which would you like?”

“Whichever you prefer.”

“Right, but if YOU had to pick one-“

“I would pick what you would pick.”

A moment lapsed. Wanda’s chewing even ceased. Clearly Vision had miscalculated and his response had been received as an irritant rather than as affectionate. He was about to modify his meaning when Wanda spoke up.

“Well, I’m too tired for spazzy Dick Solomon, no to cheesy super heroes… so I guess Green Acres it is.” Her tone was not as cheerful as it had been.

Vision turned it to the right station, feeling uneasy. He wanted to correct their interaction, but he eased back into the loveseat when Wanda leaned her head against his chest. She still wanted contact.

It was interesting, hearing the lines dubbed in Russian. They turned on English subtitles for Wanda’s sake, but even she said that she didn’t know how long her eyes would last, straining to read and comprehend the words in her second language. Vision asked a couple of times if she was ready for bed. She would lazily protest, trying to “convince” him she was wide awake by how well she could mumble the catchy theme song. But it was clear that she was fading fast. She just wanted to stay in his embrace.

And that would have been suffice for Vision, if he didn’t feel she would significantly benefit from a good night’s sleep. When he was sure she was unconscious enough, he slowly and gradually phased through the couch to let the cushions take his place. He set about turning off most of the lights, save for one lamp to provide a soft glow to guide Wanda to the bed. He then went about covering the left-over food with a napkin and stacking her dishes in a neat presentation for the food service team.

After placing the tray outside the door, Vision returned to coax Wanda to proper slumber, only to see her now splayed out on the couch. Turning about upon the upholstered texture had worked her thick robe open. Her smooth skin exposed in a thin sliver between her breasts, down her navel, with a bent leg peeking out from under the cloth as the only provision of modesty.

She was... a vision.

He came closer, peering down at her in contemplative wonder, to see her eyes sleepily open. She then extended a graceful arm to him, slender hand beckoning. Her unspoken request transparently clear to him.

Vision’s clothes collapsed into a shapeless pile on the floor as his physical form faded in a golden shimmer for an instant. The very sight of his body stimulated her, he knew that well. He lightly wedged one knee between her legs, to steady himself as he leisurely untied the fastening of her askew robe. Wanda’s breathing deepened, her hands reaching above herself, tangling in an auburn pool of silky hair as soft terry peeled away from taunt flesh…

The synthezoid had always told Wanda that human bodies were not completely unlike an advanced, organic computer. She would scrunch her nose, sure that he was innocently patronizing her on some level. But it was true. And being globally aware of any and all signals and energies, seeing them in her now was not so different. Perhaps he didn’t know what they meant exactly, or what they felt like, but trace currents of electricity and signals from the brain to the billions and billions of neurons throughout the human body made sense to Vision. It was quite the light show, when he truly connected to the body’s activities as he was now. It mapped out what efforts were effective, and what areas needed his rapt attention next. Where to experiment with a squeeze, lick, or bite. When a rapid rhythm was paramount or a restrained thrust would guarantee instant and powerful release.

It was confusing, marrying the biological science which made complete sense to the synthezoid, to the complete language of erotica which was more abundantly used in literature and pop culture… and completely conceptional. And yet here Vision was, observing the messaging of Wanda’s body, comparing it to a brilliant and unbridled sea storm of scarlet, scattering billions of ruby fractals across her glittering coral shores. Complete nonsense, yet complete truth.

“Vis!” Wanda cried. Her thighs twitched in his strong grasp as the first scarlet wave hit. Vision raised his head from between her legs, laving his slick tongue over her apex one last time, like a signature. She gasped, well past the brink, her fist clutching at her hair to hold on to something.

He leaned over her, parting her legs wider, but massaged them after keeping them so restricted over his broad shoulders for a time. He then skimmed his maroon hands up her pelvis, and around to cradle the curve of her rear, then scooted her down close to himself. Wanda propped herself up on her elbows, but immediately her head fell back in helpless passion as she felt him sheath himself deeply in her and start a powerful rhythm.

Verbal coaxing always elicited positive response. “Wanda.” Vision murmured, deeply. More rubies and stardust, just at his voice. Wanda was too overcome to form words, but her hand traveled down below her navel, to where they joined and moved as one, then up his front. She squeezed, rubbed, then clawed… but to no avail. He could feel her touch… but it didn’t create storms and shooting sparks within him as it would her.

She dimmed in sadness. Suddenly those ethereal shores were darkening. Vision wavered. He was failing her.

He swallowed hard, reeling at this complete disappointment in himself, so he made a flawed calculation. He slowed, simulated heavy panting, eyes shut tight as if with desire. There was a shimmer in Wanda, of hopeful excitement. He recalled love-scenes in movies, trying to remember how the male human interacts, even though the camera was always fixed on the female in the thralls of ecstasy. He moaned softly, and then more loudly and with urgency. It was an act. It felt wrong and stupid to him. Humiliating even…

“STOP IT.” Wanda commanded. Vision abruptly stopped, gladly, yet mortified at being found out.

“I… I was just-“

“I know what you were doing, Vis.” Wanda slid herself out from under him. She was upset. “For a moment I thought…” Her voice broke off.

Vision sat back on his haunches, realizing the gravity of what he had done. “I thought it would help.”

Wanda stood up, sniffling back her frustration. She picked up the robe and put it back on, avoiding his pleading eyes. “I know you did. I know.” She put her face in her hands for a moment. The synthezoid stood up in concern, wanting to hold her. He moved forward to do so, but she put a hand up. “I just need you to let me hurt about this for a little, Vis. Okay? And not to try and fix it.”

Vis looked down at his feet, dejected. He slowly gathered his pants and slid them over his compact form. He felt Wanda’s arms slide under his and around his torso. He bowed his head.

“I’m sorry. So sorry, dear heart.” Vision’s voice had never hitched in such a manner before.

“Me too.” She held on to him for a few more beats. “I’m going to bed.”

“I am… going read for a bit.”

“…Alright.” The departure of her embrace left him standing alone in the dark.

#scarletvision #wandavision #wanda maximoff #vision #advanced settings #FOR THE FANDOM #it will all work out #Vision's POV just ends me #IT'S HARD TO SOUND LIKE A SMART ANDROID/SYNTHEZOID #rated A for Angst

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fletchphoenix · 4 years ago

Text

When He Sees Me

I am a Nuru simp but here’s a Varigo one shot because uhhhhhhhh i want to :))))) half of my pieces i started on my break and only just edited and finished oof so have fun and thanks for the support

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Nuru could tell something had changed between the two oldest boys just by examining their actions. Varian would try to sit beside Hugo as they were eating by the campfire, Hugo nonchalantly wrapping an arm around the other and, consequently, the raven haired boy’s face would gain a red flush that he’d excuse as something like it being ‘too warm’ before shuffling away from the blond and casting an intense gaze to the floor (though Nuru saw his eyes occasionally flick up to look at the other man for a few quick, stolen glances).

That change intensified after the ball in Galcrest, the two boys having picked each other to dance with to ‘scout out the area’, though Nuru assumed they were just trying to get away, judging by the way they never once looked away from each other and she had to do all the work with Yong helping her along the way.

She’d had enough when Varian had been staring at Hugo while something was lit on the burner, causing a rather large explosion (and a very excited Yong, mind you) and a nasty gash on the side of Varian’s arm. Swiftly, she took him by the arm and marched him toward her tent, forcing him to sit down and bringing out the medical kit her mother had told her to bring. “You never know, Nuru, when you’re travelling with three young men, injuries are almost guaranteed!” she’d said, and for once Nuru was happy she’d heeded her mother’s advice.

“Okay, what’s the deal.” Nuru stated bluntly, the moonstone blue eyes of the boy in front of her widening as he sucked in a breath and gulped. He clearly looked nervous - sweat already building on his brow and his pulse increased under her fingers.

“What do you mean?-”

“Don’t play dumb. I’ve seen you and Hugo being weird with each other for the past few weeks and now it's caused an injury, so please for the love of God tell me what the hell’s going on!” The princess declared, frustration evident on her face as she glared down at the older boy. “Trust me, I would just let you do whatever the hell you two were doing to your heart’s content if one of you didn’t get hurt. But now you have.”

There was silence between them for a moment, the muffled sounds of Yong and Hugo outside clearing up the mess evident from the crunching of grass, shuffling glass shards and Hugo’s repeated “Yong, don’t pick up the glass, it’s dangerous.” which was..oddly kind for the thief - though Nuru was sure he was up to something, due to his regular biweekly disappearances into the forest at night.

FInally, Varian spoke. “I...I’ve never been one for romance. My first crush turned out to uh-kinda sorta steal the moonstone and go completely apeshit. Not uh..not my proudest moment, I’m not going to lie.” A chuckle left his lips before he continued, a sigh accompanying the nervous giggle. “I think I like Hugo, but..what if he doesn’t like the real me and my past? What if he’s just disappointed and I give myself away to only get it given back?”

“You...what do you mean the ‘real you’?” Nuru muttered, looking at the man’s gloved hands quietly. “And...when you say past, what do you mean by that? I..Don’t feel pressured to reply, you really don’t have to.”

“Well, I guess you deserve to know what I did.” Varian’s face shifted from nervous to cold in a second, hurt and guilt all that was present in his features. “When I was fourteen, I uh...tried to experiment on the moonstone’s rocks. My dad had warned me not to, but I thought..if i could get rid of the problem, I could make him proud of me, yknow? But uh...my experiment went wrong and he got trapped in the compound.”

“I begged for help, Nuru. I went through one of the worst snowstorms Corona had ever seen from Old Corona straight to the castle to beg Rapunzel for help. She promised me we’d figure it out together and that we would get rid of the rocks, but when I needed her help to save my father...she threw me back out into the storm. I got home and, well...my dad was dead.”

“I wasn’t going to be ignored, so I..did what I had to do. I thought that a few petals from the Sundrop’s flower would save him, but it didn’t work. The magic had been transferred to Rapunzel and...I needed to use her to get him back. I kidnapped the queen, I attacked the guards with automatons, hell, I almost won, but she..won instead. They sentenced me to five years in prison and put me in a cell with a uh..bad guy. Andrew.”

“I helped him take over the kingdom. I committed treason twice, but still she forgave me when she came back and helped me save my dad. I know all this stuff happened when I was younger and that I’ve grown but..how can he forgive me if I can’t even forgive myself for what I did? And-and what if he hates me and thinks I’m a monster! I don’t...I just don’t want him to hate me when he finds out what I did and...who I can be.” The man finished, his eyes fixed onto the floor with a distant look in them.

Nuru took a moment to process all of what she was told. So Varian was the boy that almost killed the queen in Corona? That...made a lot of sense now that she thought about it. The guy was a genius, so the fact he could replicate an automaton from just looking at it? It really made sense. She hesitated, wanting to say something without being insensitive.

“Varian...in all honesty, Hugo would probably say something like “That’s hot” if he found out about that.” She finally declared, the man chuckling with a slight smile. “Look..what I’m trying to say is...although I don’t trust him at all, I think he’s genuine about how much he likes you. And its obvious you love him, like...Hugo’s dense but not THAT dense. So I say do what you want and hey, if it works out, it works out.”

“Thanks Nuru.” Varian stated as he rose to his feet and rubbed his arm, “For the bandage and the advice.” A smile made its way onto his face as he left the tent, Hugo almost immediately rushing over to take care of the man and check if he was okay. Nuru simply smiled, a hand running through her hair.

Varian hadn’t just changed - Hugo had changed. He cared more about the things around him, and more about being a team player. The blond offered more to go to town for supplies with the others, or to help out with chores around the camp. He still kept up the snarky remarks and quips, though she could tell the intent behind them had dissipated from malice to playfulness and out of admiration for the others.

Maybe that was why it shattered them all so much to find out he was going to betray them.

His mother’s voice still echoed through the hallway, the high ceilings of Coronan architecture carrying the sound and letting it linger in the air like a disease. She glanced over at Yong, tears welling in his eyes until she wrapped a protective arm around him and pulled him closer to her chest in spite of her own tears that rolled down her cheeks at the sudden betrayal. He accepted the gesture, gripping onto the silk fabric of her dress and holding on for dear life.

The blond stood frozen in place as his mother walked away, grey hair swishing behind her before he turned on his heel to address the group. His mouth opened, though no words came out. At least, not any that the trio were interested in hearing. They didn’t want any petty excuses as to why he’d been using them all this time. Finally Nuru glanced at Varian.

Holy fucking shit, did he look broken.

Tears welled in his eyes, though his face was cold as he glared at the blond - if looks could kill, Hugo would definitely be a dead man. The man had clenched his fists so hard that the knuckles were white and little trickles of blood flowed down to the marble that covered the floor, his fingernails making little incisions into his palm.

“Lets go.” she bluntly stated, turning on her heel as the boys followed her, leaving the blond dumbfounded in the hall to think about what he’d done.

#varian #varigo #tangled varian #varian tangled #varian and the seven kingdoms #tangled hugo #varian x hugo #hugo tangled #hugo x varian #alchemy boyfriends #nuru tangled #tangled nuru #rapunzels tangled adventure #tangled the series

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couragehopelovefaith · 4 years ago

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Unexpected bonding

(The short fanfic based on the first proper meeting between Musa and Riven on “Fate: The Winx Saga”. English is not my first language, so apologies for the possible grammar- and spelling-mistakes.)

Musa walked across the yard, among training and chatting students, trying to calm her twirling thoughts by firmly holding the combat stick. Usually, she enjoyed the lessons and this place felt like a second home to her. But in all honesty, these last few days could've gone a lot better. For some reason, this complicated mix of excitement, worry and determination around her was harder to take than usual. Everyone was restlessly and impatiently waiting for something to happen, even though they didn't fully know what it was. But it was there, hiding in the plain sight. This was the time her help would be needed the most, but she had never felt herself so...damn useless. How she wished she could've already been in her room, put her headphones on, focused on the music and let the rest of the world keep turning by itself for a while.

The sudden flash of obvious arrogance and more hidden anger was an oddly welcoming change in the common atmosphere and attracted her attention. It didn't take long for her to figure out its source: one of specialists was training with a battle rope a few long steps away from her, clearly apart from the others. His technique appeared to be nearly flawless, but she didn't need her powers to notice that behind it there was a deep need to let his frustrations out.

Musa didn't actually know much about Riven. Of course, everybody had heard of him - other than being close with Sky, he had gotten quite a bad reputation in Alfea, and his questionable habits with drugs didn't exactly help on the matter. These "stormy and unbalanced"-kind of energy auras were often too much for an empath like her, and that fact alone put him among the people she had usually been avoiding.

Still walking forward, she answered his sharp glance nonchalantly – a neutral, silent hello, that didn't expect any kind of discussion. However, hearing quiet, out of the blue chuckle made her stop reflexively, full of doubt. They hadn't changed more than a few words with each other before and she had had no reason to believe it would change now. He stopped his training too and looked at her, estimating.

"You like holding that big stick?"

His slightly amused, undermining and suggesting tone after a long and exhausting day made Musa react quickly; with secure grasp, she rotated the stick swiftly and bent into an attack-position, holding the stick very close to his face – staying still, half waiting for some kind of anger or offended surrendering-movement. However, her intuition was wrong again: instead, the youngster touched the head of the stick lightly and lowered It, raising his eyebrows and smirking almost flirtatiously. "I'll take that as a yes."

Young fairy repressed her will to roll her eyes: sadly, Riven was also well-known for his narrow-minded, obnoxious and somewhat prejudiced comments and opinions. This year Terra and Dane had seemed to have gotten the worst blows of them. Even though Terra hadn't admitted it to anyone, Musa had lived with her long enough to know that some of the remarks had really gotten under her skin. And that was saying a lot, when it came to a generally happy person like her. Some people just couldn't take a hint of crossing the line, and the boy standing in front of her was definitely one of them.

To show him that she really wasn't in a mood for such behavior today, she partly leaned on her stick and titled her head. "I think I just threw up."

In spite of the loathing tone in her answer, Riven couldn't help feeling a tad impressed: this tiny fairy seemed to have more fierceness and spunk in her than the most of the well-trained Specialists. After the lackey-like, avoiding or somewhat fearful reactions he had faced lately, this strictness from someone else than his best friend or mentor – especially a girl - certainly was something new. There was no denying that Beatrix had offered him quite a portion of that as well in her own, seductive and slightly twisted way, but this lass had some exceptional gentleness, vision and different kind of honesty in her that Beatrix just... had not.

Still a hint of smile on his face, he came a little closer to her, unwilling to change the subject. "I saw you on the support rounds with Miss Dowling at training." His tone was trying to pursue neutrality, but even the fool could've seen that he wanted to prove his point.

Musa tried to separate her own feelings from all the other auras around her to process his new, startling attentiveness. Was she honored or bothered – and more importantly, which one was the right way to react? At the moment, even the Expert of Emotions herself couldn't tell. What was the catch here? It would've made more sense for him to keep an eye on assertive and strong people like Stella or Aisha. She stayed quiet, letting a little patient smile crack her poker face, wondering where he was going with this.

Being wise enough not to test her patience any longer, Riven decided to answer the unspoken question himself. Without fully meeting her eye, he let his gaze linger at her feet. "I wouldn't have expected a mind fairy to have such good moves."

Without an invitation or permission, Mrs. Dowling's task-orientated but friendly voice echoed in her ears again.

"Not all fairy magic is suited to combat roles. Support is equally, if not more, important. Your magic can help us assess the fragile states of minds and uncover hidden enemies."

It was a common knowledge that the Headmistress was encouraging to the core, cared for her students, and meant well. Still, Musa's speculative mind constantly found hidden subtexts in her words, which started with "too theoretic" and ended up at something like: "Insufficient" or "powerless when things actually go wrong."

"I used to be a dancer." The words escaped her lips, before she managed to stop them. Whether it was because of Mrs. Dowling, her own defense mechanisms against Riven's prejudices, his infuriating abilities to give compliments and offend at the same time, or just pure tiredness, she was surprised by her own transparency. She had told about this only to her very few close people in her life. Not even her roommates knew. And now she had blabbered it in front of a basically complete stranger! But on the other hand, it was really refreshing to talk to someone, who didn't pry or force their curiosity on her out of duty or responsibility. Unable to help herself, she admitted: "I kinda miss being physical."

When she had been younger, her mother had taught her to dance and they had made it something they shared. It had been wonderful to dive deep into music and focus on the movements and the different worlds, in which melodies had transferred her into. But when her mother had passed away, she hadn't been able to bring herself in that flow anymore. No matter how persistently she had tried, it hadn't felt the same. Now it only reminded her of everything she had lost.

Abruptly, she returned back to reality and noticed that Riven's gaze had found its way in her eyes again and his posture had returned to its natural defensiveness.

"Yeah, well, too bad", he spat out in a slightly husky voice. "You're a fairy. They don't care what you wanna be in this place, only what they want you to be."

Quite a nice reward for being honest! It would've been so easy and rightful for Musa to get mad at him. But her mother had always used to say that no one's story and melody should be shut out, and she had chosen to live through that code. Even with the douchebag like Riven.

Now that she looked closer, with a little help of her own, she was able to see the dark circles under his eyes – eyes that were actually really observant and sincere, like they were trying to convey her an important message. Under the arrogance and "know it all"-attitude, there was buried bitterness and sadness. This wasn't just a cocky boy fighting for his territory. It was a sincere warning, born by his own, long-term experiences.

When one really stopped to think about it, this guy had gone through quite a rough year. The first more hidden emotion Musa sensed – perhaps because it had been also her friend for the last couple of days – was the fear of not being enough. Mr. Silva had always been righteous and fair leader and mentor who wanted to treat everyone equally, but still there was a little...guess it could be called conflict of interest. Even though Sky’s bloodline had guaranteed him the place in this school, he had been motivated and trained himself to the top and hadn't expected any special treatment. But after his father, Andreas of Eraklyon, had passed away in a battle, Silva, as Andreas' best friend, had taken him under his wing and now saw him basically as his own son. Due to this fact and his carefree and rebellious stoner-history, Riven must have felt overshadowed and the need to prove everyone that he belonged here.

Obviously, there was also worry and complicated feelings about Beatrix on his mind. Despite her... interesting personality – kindly expressed – and her shady and threatening motives that were becoming clearer by the moment, they had been close. She had been one of the few people who didn't judge him in one way or another. And now she was imprisoned and not many people knew what the faculty was planning to do to her. He probably also wondered how big role he had played in causing the danger – partly by being nasty to Dane – that was now hanging above everyone. He clearly tried to act like it didn't have an effect on him, but Musa and Aisha had witnessed his lousily finished training this morning. All of this would've a lot to bear to anyone, and Musa couldn't help feeling a little sorry for him.

"You really hate being here, don't you?"

She hadn't even acknowledged she had used her powers on full force until she saw the look on Riven's face: it was disoriented, almost blank, and there was a hint of surprise in his eyes. Musa was fully aware of what her powers awoke in others: being mentally and emotionally exposed without their own control could be terrifying.

Suddenly, Riven snapped out of his slumber, obviously startled, and pointed his finger at her accusingly. "Stay the fuck out of my head!" His voice was loaded with as much poison as possible, but a tiny, unintended smile screwed his cover up.

Snorting, he shook his head a little and turned around, away from the control of her bright eyes. "Mind fairies..." Still somewhat confused, he started to walk away, mumbling something like: "Walking red flags..." Nosey even at their best, thinking of being know-it-alls because of their abilities... He had been a careless idiot for letting his guard down. There was no doubt that the girl would go straight to Dowling, perhaps Silva, too, to report that the school's unstable rebel should be watched under this big threat...

Annoyed, he lifted his gaze off the ground just in time to see Sam, Musa's boyfriend, approaching them. Personally, he had nothing against the lad: if anything, despite being a loner, Terra's brother always seemed to be nice to everyone. Truth to be told, there was nothing to complain about his fighting skills, either. Perhaps those traits ran in the family. Passing him by, he tapped Sam's shoulder heavily. "Good luck with that one, mate!"

Without his own will, the fairy had awoken something in him, something he both feared, wanted to forget and also secretly missed...things from last year, that almost seemed like another life... Needing his own space, he sped up his steps and headed inside, the image of deep purple eyes oddly and fascinatingly haunting him.

Musa couldn't help smirking to the different auras of these two boys: one reminded of the serene, sunny summer day, while the other one was pretty more like an autumn storm.

For a moment, Sam looked after Riven and then turned his confused gaze to his girlfriend. "What was that about?"

Musa came closer to him, smiling and enjoying his calming and innocent presence. "Nothing." Technically, she wasn't lying. She had no room in her heart to be offended; over the years, she had become quite familiar with those kinds of hostile reactions to her powers. Whatever that had been, she didn't have energy to analyze it now. Besides, she had more pressing, romantic and distracting matters on her mind right now. "Wanna head back to the suite?"

#fate: the winx saga #musa x riven #sam harvey #rivusa

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jojoboisimagines · 4 years ago

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Josuke x Reader :: Promposal :: Ch. 2

previous chapter next chapter

summary: A strange new transfer student has enrolled in Budogaoka High School. Josuke falls head over heels for her, but has a limited time to win her over before the school prom.

///

The next day during lunch, Josuke was found with his head on his desk, shoulders slouched. When his friends arrived to the classroom, they were afraid he might've been banging his head on it. Nothing Crazy Diamond couldn't fix, but what was more important at the moment was what was going on inside Josuke's head.

Koichi and Okuyasu were right by his side, sitting at parallel desks. Okuyasu almost dared to pet his head, but knew better to not touch the boy's precious pompadour.

His smaller friend spoke up first. "Don't worry Josuke, it's gonna be alright. You win some you lose some, right?"

The teen only groans in response. That wasn't sounding too good to the other two.

"Listen Josuke ya gotta give it at least one more try, the Josuke I know isn't a quitter, that's for sure!" His bed friend attempted to cheer him up, punching him in the shoulder. He finally raised his head with a less than amused expression.

"I guess. The problem with that though is how? She doesn't seem interested in the slightest, and I don't wanna come off as some creepy stalker guy!" He rubbed his neck.

The trio stayed silent for a second, trying to figure out a idea that wouldn't be a complete dud. Koichi was the only one of the three in a relationship, yet still didn't know how this situation should be approached. The three teenagers were novices at romance, that's one thing they easily discovered.

"O-oh! I got it!" The short boy finally yelled out, scaring the others. "You should write her a love letter! Tell her how you really feel through words on paper rather than having to look her in the eye!"

A...love letter?" The pompadoured teen tilted his head like a confused dog. After he fully realized the implications of his friend's suggestion, he shook his head, a tiny bit of red across his cheeks."N-no! No way! I'm not that serious about this yet Koichi! We've barely said anything to each other!"

"You don't have to say you love her, just say how you feel and ask her if you wanna meet up." Koichi added. "Simple as that. At least, in anime and manga it is." He mumbled the last part. Okuyasu nodded his head in agreement. At this point, Josuke didn’t have many other options or people to get advice from.

There was Jotaro, but he had no idea what his love life was like. Didn’t seem like any casanova to him anyway. Even if he asked, there’s no guarantee the marine biologist would give him an answer. Second choice would be Yukako, which was an absolute no. He doesn’t wanna scare you or come off as some creep. Third choice would be his mom. Nope, too embarrassing. She’d be setting up the wedding plans as soon as she hears he has a crush. Or there was Yuya…

“Give me a pen and some paper.” He was already holding out his hand.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

The teen didn’t get anywhere with the letter at school.

He hoped home would be a better place to actually get it written. At least one word.

He contemplated getting Koichi on the phone for some pointers, but decided against it. These were his feelings he had to write about. Honesty is the best policy, he always thought. You deserved more than some corny letter that’s probably copyrighted from a birthday card. Josuke sat at his partially cluttered desk. The note sat blank, and so did his brain.

Thoughts rolled in and out of his brain, asking himself questions like ‘what do girls actually like again?’ and ‘Is she even the kind of chick that’d like something extremely cliche like this?’ Shaking his head helped to clear his brain and start anew. There were about four crumpled up papers in the trash bin. Tomoko had even dipped in his room to see how he was doing, assuming he was doing homework, she had given him a drink at his request. Along with a comment of how he looked like he was going to burst a vein if he thought any harder.

It was 8:30 now.

He had taken a break. One paragraph written. Some progress being made deserved a break for him on his console.

Josuke beat his high score, earning a wide grin across his cheeks. ‘Thats enough for now, don’t wanna ruin it.’ He thought, placing the controller on top of the console. Laying back on his bed, his arms stretched across the width of it, added with a yawn. The teen guessed now would be a good time to question why he was even doing this for that girl in the first place.

He didn’t get crushes easily, that was sure enough. Maybe he liked ‘exotic’ girls, seeing that the first thing he knew about her was that she was foreign. Or perhaps it was because she was smart? Nah, he wouldn’t fall for someone over something like that. Josuke wasn’t the kind of guy to quickly judge someone based on whether they’re the sharpest tool in the shed.

Maybe it could be because she’s pretty? ...of course not. There were plenty of pretty girls that followed him to school or even gave him letters.

It was getting too much to rack his brain for answers at this point. He had started the letter already and he was going to finish it. Even if he gets embarrassed by it, too much time had been spent to just not hand it to her.

Josuke shuffled back to his desk chair and kept writing.

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Today was the big day. Koichi and Okuyasu had been hyping him up even before they got to school. He had told the other two it was pure coincidence he had remembered where your locker was, but honestly how could he forget. It was right by the class, the place he got so bluntly rejected by two days ago.

What was actually lucky was that the envelope he bought was just small enough to fit through the slits at the top of your locker.

It was almost time for class, meaning you would be coming to get your books any second. Instead of just going to class like they should’ve, the pompadoured teen’s two friends had convinced him to hide behind the corner to wait for your reaction. Josuke obviously protested, but all of them went silent at the sound of clacking against the marble hallway floor.

You had worn the heels again. He was almost inclined to think you were a delinquent.

Just as planned, you had gone to your locker. The trio were biting their bottom lips in anticipation.

Josuke was practically sweating as your hand went to the combination and the sound of you unlocking it. The other two were clutching his jacket, which was frankly painful, but he was far more focused on you.

The locker had finally opened.

Leaving you in an avalanche of love letters.

You quite literally had to back away as they all hit the floor in multiple smacks. One blue, one pink, some with a heart sticker, some even without a name. Josuke suddenly felt a sinking feeling in his gut

“W-woah!” Koichi shrieked. “You kinda went overboard Josuke!” Okuyasu's jaw hung open, staring in disbelief. Josuke pushed the both of them off.

“Th-those aren’t mine!”

You looked incredulously at the letters, picking them up. Some fellow students stared while walking past. A few girls start mockingly giggling and also snarling at you. Not knowing quite what to do or think, you put them back in your locker and got out your books. You hurriedly walked into class, not even making eye contact with anyone else.

“Looks like..you weren’t the only one with the same idea, ey Josuke?” Okuyasu swallowed a lump in his throat.

“This is gonna be a lot harder than we thought.��

#jojo #jojo imagines #jojo headcanons #Josuke Higashitaka #josuke x reader #josuke imagine #josuke higashikata x reader #jjba x reader #jojos bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken

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mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years ago

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Limitless - Chapter Six

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Johnny (side pairing: Y/N x Jaehyun)

Word Count: 4K

Warnings: mentions of violence, and language

Genre: Hogwarts AU! Fantasy AU!

Summary: “The first years, please note... that the Dark Forest is strictly forbidden to all students” - Albus Dumbledore (Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone)

Taglist: @jae-bread, @lanadreamie, @do-you-like-riddles, @ki-aechan, @the-usernames-i-like-are-taken, @dru-shadow, @completencttrash, @haechans-sunflower, @neocultech-baby, @jaectizen, @yutamist, @lunavbm, @seriousballoon, @lerissa, @kickin–it, @nekojohndo, @n0teanoshade

“Time will not slow down when something unpleasant lies ahead” - Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

In a complete turn of events, when I entered the Great Hall this time, I surprised everyone in the room when I walked in the direction of the Slytherin table to sit down next to Johnny Seo.

There was a pervasive silence, and it seemed that every eye had turned to observe this unexpected situation. But I wasn’t bothered by their intrusive stares; instead, I reveled in the attention because I wanted as many witnesses as possible to watch me as I extended the figurative olive branch.

“How are you, Jeno?” I asked the dark-haired student sitting across from me.

However, in place of a formal greeting, Jeno’s response was nothing more than the image of his mouth falling open in shock. “What are you playing at, Y/N?” Johnny muttered, pushing aside his empty plate as he glared at me.

“Nothing,” I replied. “I’ve just been thinking about our conversation from my father’s banquet.”

“Ah!” Johnny chuckled. “You’re coming to tell me that I’m wrong.”

“No,” I countered. “I actually took your words to heart, and I’m willing to concede certain points.”

“Oh?” Johnny smirked. “Care to elaborate?”

“You’re right about the hypocrisy,” I informed him. “But I’m not the only one guilty of its implications.”

“Is this your way of turning things around on me?” Johnny asked.

“I just think you should give it some consideration,” I said, and I tried to ignore his incredulous laugh. “But,” I growled, “I want to call a truce between us.”

His laugh broke off immediately, and it was Johnny’s turn to be caught off-guard, appearing just as ridiculous as Jeno when he gaped at me. “Truce?”

“I’m sure you know what it means,” I said, taking a moment to revel in my own self-satisfaction. “Perhaps I was insensible before, but my brother is fond of your cousin, and I think we should try our best to get along.”

But for a moment, I wasn’t certain that Johnny was even going to acknowledge my suggestion. After all, even if I was willing to apologize for my behavior from before, there was no guarantee that he would accept my sincere expression. And I held my breath when he released an exaggerated sigh. “I guess you don’t feel any remorse from our conversation? Doesn’t it bother you that I had to point out those flaws?”

“I’m grateful for your honesty,” I said, measuring my words with astuteness. “Sometimes, it takes the intervention of a friend to help a person understand the consequences of their actions.”

“Friend?” Johnny repeated with a scoff. “Y/N, I’ve tried to be friends since our first day of potions together, but you’ve made that very hard for me.”

“Well, consider this a change of heart,” I said, and I held out my hand to him. “Shall we shake on it?”

Johnny rolled his eyes, but his palm was warm against mine. “I’ll consider this an open invitation.”

“Whatever that means,” I grumbled, and I pulled away from him with a smile. “See? Even I can be surprisingly civil.”

“We’ll see about that,” Johnny said, and I could feel his gaze on me as I left the Great Hall without another word.

The rumors were swift, pervading the Castle and all its students no matter what year they happened to claim. But I wasn’t surprised to discover that people were talking about my wiling compliance to entertain Johnny Seo. And I fully expected for someone to confront me about the conversation, but it was still later on when I was finally approached about my burgeoning relationship with Johnny Seo - a seemingly unusual request for neutrality between us.

“Did something happen between you and Johnny?” Jaehyun asked, and I looked up from my textbook to see that he was looking straight at me with an inquisitive stare, no longer concerned with the lines he was expected to write for his transfiguration assignment.

“Just some stuff that happened over break,” I said, stretching my arms out above my head as I dismissed my homework with an exaggerated sigh.

“What kind of stuff?” Jaehyun pressed, and I took a moment to consider why he was so interested.

“He said some things about my mom,” I admitted. “It bothered me because he was right.”

“Oh,” Jaehyun murmured, and he seemed relieved by the confession. “I guess I wasn’t sure what to expect. Everyone keeps talking about you and Johnny.”

“It was a surprisingly useful conversation,” I said. “He pointed out some things that nobody has ever really asked me to think about before.”

Jaehyun was quiet as he observed me. “Is that okay? You aren’t bothered by what he said?”

“I can handle Johnny,” I told him with a smile, which he returned after glancing at the ring that I wore on my index finger, glittering enticingly below the lights.

“It looks good on you,” he remarked to change the conversation.

“Yeah,” I agreed, holding out my hand to admire the diamonds. “This is beautiful, Jaehyun. You didn’t have to get me anything expensive.”

“I wanted to buy it,” Jaehyun insisted. “You mean a lot to me.”

I averted my gaze at his sincere words, and I could feel my face warming under his close scrutiny. “I feel bad because I didn’t get you a gift.”

“Trust me, Y/N,” he said with a chuckle. “You give me more than you could ever imagine.”

“But I want you to have something concrete!” I insisted, and Jaehyun’s expression slowly morphed into something more serious as he leaned in closer across the table.

“You could always give me an answer.”

“Answer?” I repeated, and there was a strange amount of tension in the air between us as his eyes locked onto mine.

“Y/N, I like you a lot,” Jaehyun confessed. “But before you misinterpret my words, I want you to know that my feelings aren’t exactly platonic.”

I shivered because, of course, I understood what he meant, but I had never been propositioned in such a way before. “Jaehyun-”

“Let’s go out on Friday,” he interrupted as if sensing that I was uncertain. “I want to take you somewhere in Hogsmeade, and you can think about what I’ve said and how you feel.”

I pondered his simple request, wondering if it was possible for me to think about those things. And I had never really thought about those kinds of complicated feelings, even if Jaehyun made me want to start considering them. But he always made things easier for me, and I found myself nodding along as Jaehyun’s relieved smile captured the moment with a gentle exhale.

It wasn’t surprising to have the attention of my classmates directed on me when I walked into the potion’s classroom. Especially when Johnny was already waiting at our usual table, and he wore a self-assured smirk as I sat down next to him. “I got a head start on the assignment,” Johnny said, and he slid his textbook closer to mine where I noticed he had already crafted several notes in the margins.

“Oh? And how did you know what we were making today?” I asked, and I allowed my fingers to follow the words as they filled out the pages.

“I told you,” Johnny said. “I’m one of Professor Zhang’s favorites.”

“I still don’t understand why he chose you,” I remarked, even while I couldn’t help but admit that the favoritism benefited me in this class.

“Well, since we’re friends now or whatever,” Johnny said. “Maybe you’ll start realizing that I’m a lot smarter than you want to give me credit for.”

“I’ll give you credit when it’s due,” I said with a cheeky smile. “This looks more like cheating to me.”

“Cheating?” Johnny scoffed. “I like to consider it as taking advantage of an opportune situation.”

“Uh-huh.” I grinned. “Did you feel the same way when you cheated to beat the Gryffindor team at their tryouts?”

“That wasn’t cheating!” Johnny sighed. “Honestly, Y/N, you’re making a big mistake by thinking so low of me. One of these days, you’re gonna regret dismissing my natural talents because of your own ego.”

“Is that so?” I asked him. “I’ll certainly let you know when I have a change of heart, friend!”

“Ditto,” Johnny muttered, and there was an unmistakable lilt to his interjection that matched the playful smile breaking the corners of his eyes.

“But I do have one question-” I started, but I was unexpectedly interrupted by a flock of fifth-year girls who rushed into the classroom at once, surrounding our table with giggles.

“Is it true, Y/N?” one of them asked. “We heard that Jaehyun asked you out!”

“I don’t think it’s any of your business,” I said, and I was entirely unimpressed with their invasive demands, even if I was concerned with the sudden disappearance of Johnny’s playful demeanor.

“He said so himself,” they continued. “The two of you are going to Hogsmeade together!”

“I guess it’s true then,” I muttered, but I was far more concerned with the sullen look written across Johnny’s countenance.

“Everyone’s talking about it,” the first girl said, but she was graciously dismissed upon the arrival of Professor Zhang who sternly instructed everyone to sit down.

The girls smiled and leaned in together to whisper in low tones, and I waited until they were gone to discreetly check on Johnny whose rigid posture was concerning.

“Johnny,” I whispered, and it was a muted tone that demonstrated some amount of caution, but I didn’t know why I felt the need to approach Johnny with such uncertainty.

“Whatever, Y/N,” Johnny growled, and he pulled our cauldron closer to the edge of the table. “Let’s just get this done.”

His statement was final, and I fell into a long stretch of silence as we worked together without another word.

I had always been impressed by Hogsmeade: the quaint little shops, the rustic vibe, and the feeling of intimate comraderies around every corner of the bustling streets.

It was the perfect way to spend an evening out of the Castle, shuffling through the snow next to Jaehyun as he talked about his Quidditch team’s upcoming match versus Slytherin. “We’re prepared this time,” he assured me, stopping outside of the Three Broomsticks with a smile. “I love coming here.”

“It’s warm,” I noted, and I was surprised by my body’s willing compliance when Jaehyun wrapped an arm around my waist to lead me inside.

“Most of my friends sit at the back,” he explained, guiding me through the other tables and friendly couples. “It’s more private.”

I nodded in agreement, finding simple pleasure in the quiet alcove, waiting for Jaehyun as he briefly left me alone to bring us back two butterbeers. The frothy beverage had delighted my tastebuds when I tried it Jisung for the first time, and it might seem cliché, but I was glad to share the sentiments of my Hogwarts classmates who all seemed to love it.

“I hope you’re comfortable,” Jaehyun said, and he had already consumed most of his drink as he turned to look at me. “Have you thought about what I said before in the library.”

Oh.

I swallowed hard, bringing my own drink down against the table. “It was really sudden,” I tried to explain to him. “We haven’t been friends for long.”

“Ah!” Jaehyun said, snapping his fingers as if he understood. “You’re worried about the timing. Is it moving too fast for you?”

I hesitated because it would all too easy to tell Jaehyun that I wasn’t ready for him, but the problem then became: would I ever be ready for him? “I don’t know,” I told him truthfully, and he nodded.

“Some people take longer to decipher their feelings,” Jaehyun agreed. “How about this? I’m relieved that you know how I feel, but I would never pressure you to reciprocate. Instead, maybe we can try a simple relationship? We’ll basically do the same things from before, but I can give you space to figure out what you want.”

“That sounds too good to be true.” I laughed, and Jaehyun smiled as he leaned in closer.

“It’s just that, I actually know it’s moving really fast, but I’ve been worried about Seo a lot these days,” Jaehyun said.

“Johnny?” I repeated with what surely resembled a quizzical look. “Why?”

“I guess you are bad with feelings,” Jaehyun said. “Y/N, I think it’s obvious to a lot of people that Johnny likes you, and after you talked with him the other day in the Great Hall, I thought he might’ve convinced you to try things out with him.”

“Try things out?” I gasped, and the idea was almost scandalous to me. For months, I treated Johnny as a barely tolerated acquaintance, but the moment I act civil and agree to be more amiable, everyone assumes something far more consequential. “Johnny and I aren’t like that.”

“I hope not,” Jaehyun said. “Not that I would try and stop you if you did have feelings for him, but I want to take my chance before it’s too late. The last thing in the world I want is more regrets, and you’re someone I would definitely regret if I didn’t try to show you how much you meant to me.”

I was struck by his sincerity, and I didn’t even question him when he applied a tight grip to my hand. “Thank you,” I said. “Honestly, it’s been confusing lately, and I know part of the problem is me.”

“You’re not a problem in my eyes,” Jaehyun said, and I squirmed under the weight of the compliment.

“Are you gonna keep doing that?” I asked him.

“What? Singing your praises?” Jaehyun chuckled. “Why? Does it not suit you?”

“Something like that,” I said, studying him from the corner of my eye. “You’ll wait for me to decide?”

“Of course,” Jaehyun said. “I’m a very patient man, Y/N. Take all the time that you need.”

It was, admittedly, relieving to hear him say that to me, even if I was still confused about my feelings. But anything I might’ve said to reassure him at that moment was vanquished from my mind at the unexpected entrance of Haechan and Chenle who were both crying and screaming when they ran to our table. “Woah!” I said, unprepared for Chenle to grab the sleeve of my robe.

“We have to help them!” Chenle said, and it took me a moment to gather my bearings long enough to grab him by his shoulders.

“Help who?”

“Haechan, you need to calm down,” Jaehyun said, and I was surprised by his gentle touch as he hugged Haechan closer. “What happened?”

“It was my fault!” Haechan said. “The older kids told us that we had to do it! They said it was a first-year initiation, but they took us to the Forbidden Forest and there was an attack-”

“And attack!” I screeched, standing up from the table with my adrenaline pumping.

“W-we were attached by a werewolf!” Haechan said, and it was at this point that I realized the entire room was watching us. “It bit Mark, and it tried to hurt Jisung-”

“My Jisung?” I interrupted, and there was a disorienting sensation of fear eclipsing my heart in an icy grip. “Haechan, is Jisung hurt? Where is he? Why is he not with you?”

I was on the verge on a panic attack when I let my instincts takeover, running from the Three Broomsticks with Jaehyun’s voice calling my name. I knew that it was irrational to jump into action without all the information, but I tended to take things to the extreme when it involved the members of my family. And I was marching across the snow-covered streets with one purpose: to protect Jisung and ensure that he was safe.

“Y/N!” Jaehyun growled, and I could barely feel his hand wrap itself around my arm as he pulled me to a stop. “It’s fine, Haechan said that Johnny helped Jisung make it to the infirmary! He wasn’t actually bitten!”

I spun around on my heel at the mention of Jisung. “If he’s fine, then why is he in the Infirmary?”

“Haechan said that he was freaking out and they wanted to make sure that he calmed down,” Jaehyun said, and I noticed Haechan and Chenle sprinting in our direction. “I can tell that you’re about to do something irrational,” Jaehyun said, and he gripped my chin in his hand as he forced me to look into his eyes. “Stay with me, okay? I’ll take everyone to the infirmary and you can see Jisung.”

I managed a nod, clutching to Jaehyun’s sleeve to ground myself as he wrapped a reassuring arm around my waist. “Did you say that Johnny helped him?”

“He saved him,” Haechan said, shuffling next to me as our group traversed back to Hogwarts. “I don’t even know where he came from, but he was there just in time.”

“Not soon enough to help Mark,” Chenle whispered, and his face was awash with fresh tears.

I shivered at the reminder, feeling a pang of regret for not worrying about Mark who was actually hurt in the attack, and everyone knew what happened when you were bitten by a werewolf. “Does he understand?” I asked. “He has to know that everything will change.”

“I don’t think so,” Chenle replied, and that only made everything worse because when Mark was finally told what would happen to him each full moon....

“Taeyong must be devastated,” I whispered, and Jaehyun’s response was to hold me tighter against the force of the cold wind.

The chaos had died down by the time I was sitting next to Jisung at his bedside, allowing my step-brother to cry into my shoulder as he apologized over and over again for leaving the common room so late at night. “I’m so stupid,” he said, and I shook my head as I ran my fingers through his hair.

“It’s okay,” I tried to reassure him, but at the exact same time, Mark started screaming from the bed further down the line and I could feel Jisung crying even harder.

“He’s in a lot of pain,” Jaehyun said, trying to keep his voice quiet, but I’m sure Jisung heard him.

“I can’t believe this happened,” I said. “In the time that we were gone...”

I trailed off because I couldn’t blame Jaehyun for bringing me out of the Castle. It’s not like either of us anticipated for this to happen, and I was just grateful that Jisung hadn’t been hurt, even if my heart broke for Mark.

“The fifth years who put them up to this will be punished and sent home,” Jaehyun said. “But they’re not the only ones.”

I shivered at his warning. “Are they gonna punish Jisung?”

“They were technically caught out of bed after hours,” Jaehyun replied. “I don’t think it’ll be severe, but the kids will probably get detention.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I scoffed, slowly rocking Jisung back and forth in a soothing motion.

“You’re telling me,” Jaehyun said, but then he frowned when he noticed someone approaching from over my shoulder. “I guess I owe you for everything you did tonight, Seo.”

I swallowed hard at the mention of Johnny, looking over Jisung to find him watching us with blood still painting the front of his shirt. “Yeah,” I added, finding it difficult to meet his gaze. “You don’t know how grateful I am that you helped Jisung.”

“Johnny was the best,” Jisung sniffled, pulling away from me with tear-stained eyes. “He knew the spell to get rid of the werewolf.”

“I think that’s pretty advanced magic,” I remarked, and Johnny scoffed.

“What? You’re still underestimating me?”

I frowned at his harsh tone. “No, but I’ll do anything to show you how much I appreciate what you’ve done.”

Johnny glanced up at Jaehyun for a brief second before returning his attention to me. “Be careful when you say things like that to me, Y/N,” Johnny said. “I’m liable to hold that against you.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. “If it wasn’t for you, then Jisung might be hurting even more.”

“I’m glad I saved him,” Johnny said. “I wish I could’ve helped Mark, but it’s a good thing that I was patrolling that area. Prefect duty and all.”

“I’m sorry if you’re angry at me, Johnny,” I said, referencing our earlier confrontation. “I meant it when I told you that I wanted to be friends.”

Johnny’s expression softened, and he studied me with an inquisitive look. “Can it be a favor?”

I startled at the question. “What?”

“I don’t like it when people owe me,” Johnny elaborated. “I didn’t save Jisung for you to feel indebted to me. I saved him because he’s a good kid and none of them deserved what happened tonight. But if you’re in the mood to give me the time of day, I hope you might consider meeting me tomorrow night outside of the Slytherin common room.”

“Oh?” I remarked, wincing at Jaehyun’s harsh exhale. “Yeah, I can meet you.”

“There’s something I want to talk about,” Johnny said. “But it’s better to have this conversation in private, and you can have more time with Jisung until then.”

“Sure,” I agreed, loosening my hold on Jisung when he started whining about my strength.

“I’m still talking to the headmaster about everything,” Johnny said. “He’s not convinced that I’ve told him the truth.”

“I still don’t know the truth,” I said, looking around the rest of the infirmary where dozens of familiar faces flitted in and out of focus.

“I guess we’ll talk tomorrow about what happened,” Johnny said quietly, excusing himself with a bow of his head, and I watched him join the headmaster near the sectioned-off area where Mark was being attended.

“He’s got something up his sleeve,” Jaehyun said, and he sat next to me on the bed to give Jisung’s shoulder a squeeze.

“I’m not worried,” I said, and I decided it was best to change the topic. “How are Chenle and Haechan?”

“Fine,” Jaehyun murmured. “They were sent back to bed, but I doubt they’ll get any sleep tonight.”

“And Mark?”

Jaehyun sighed. “They’ll tell us more in the morning.”

I shook my head because it wasn’t a satisfactory answer, but Jisung was tugging on my sleeve for attention. “Will you stay with me tonight?”

“Of course,” I promised him, but it was less out of obligation and more because I needed his comfort just as much to try and forget this horrible night.

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