#he's giggling twirling his hair kicking his feet you know the drill | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

prettyboybarzal · 5 years ago

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tattoos together (3) // tyler seguin

(PART ONE) (PART TWO)

pairing: tyler seguin x reader

summary: being in dallas with tyler feels exactly right, but it’s not reality and both of you know it. with your trip coming to an end in just a few short days, you and tyler struggle to come to terms with whatever it is between you.

(2016 dallas stars and 2/3 of tyler’s dogs, apologies if some details aren’t accurate about the stars season. i was too lazy to do my research.)

word count: 9k+ (she a lil thicc)

author’s note: you know the drill... like, reblog, shoot me a message. ((hopefully part 4 will be up next sunday, but first i gotta write it)) xoxo love y’all!!!!

warnings: more alcohol, angst (???), def cursing

The rest of your time at Casa de Seguin, as Tyler keeps calling it, is packed full of things to do. He seems to have a plan for every second of every day. While you appreciate the thoughtfulness, it feels like the two of you haven’t been alone and lazy together like the old days and you miss it.

Tyler misses it, too, but the idea of the two of you being alone again brings him to places he knows he can’t go with you.

Three days before your flight, Tyler is making breakfast with the dogs at his feet. When you enter the kitchen, he smiles over at you before stating, “I haven’t planned anything for today. I was thinking maybe we could go to the Rangers game tonight?”

You don’t respond off the bat, leaning against the counter. The lack of a response has him glancing over with a raised eyebrow.

“Ty, we haven’t stopped moving for days,” you state. “And, don’t get me wrong, I love how much we’ve done. I feel like I know Dallas and Texas like the back of my hand. However, we’re constantly surrounded by people and fans and friends of yours, especially Jamie. I just want one day with just you, and the boys.”

You and the boys. Tyler loves the sound of that coming out of your mouth. The dogs do, too. They turn their heads at the inflection of your voice when you referenced them and Cash comes trotting over to plop at your feet. Tyler glances over with a smile and nods.

“Alright, how about this?” he asks. He turns the heat on the stove off and moves the frying pan over to let the eggs simmer. “We go to the dog park with them and then we can come back and just hang out back. I’ll grill up some burgers for lunch or something.”

“That sounds perfect,” you admit. Tyler smiles. “Need help with breakfast?”

“Can you put on a pot of coffee?”

You nod, moving to grab two mugs from his cabinet before brewing it. The two of you work in silence, backs to each other, but you keep stealing glances at him as he puts together your plates and throws some bread in the toaster.

You pour the coffee into each mug, asking Tyler if he still takes his black (the answer is yes), and hand his mug to him. He shoos you away to the dining table so that he can present the food to you in a dramatic fashion.

He glides into the room with a plate in each hand and does a little spin before putting the plates down on the table. The dogs are waiting eagerly for something to drop, but Tyler pulls the spin move off elegantly. He sits across from you and announces in an atrocious French accent, “Bon appetite.”

Marshall and Cash lose their minds when Tyler pulls their leashes from the closet. Marshall hears it from another room and comes running at the sound, practically knocking you on your ass in the process. Tyler attaches each leash to their collars and hands Cash’s over to you.

When you get to the park it’s almost empty, save for a family or two. You walk through the gates and unleash the boys who immediately start chasing each other around the open space.

Tyler nods towards a bench and sits down, tugging on your hand to pull you down beside him. You lean forward with your elbows on your thighs and rest your head in your hand, watching the dogs play. Tyler leans back against the back of the bench. He reaches out and rubs a hand on your back before pulling it away to pick up a ball by his feet. He whistles once and calls, “Cash, Marshall!”

The dogs come running, tripping over each other as they approach. Tyler smiles and throws the ball, sending them the opposite direction. You giggle as Cash gets to it first and comes running back, Marshall chasing him the entire way.

Cash drops the ball at your feet, so you grab it before Marshall can snatch it up and toss it again.

The whole day is so domestic. Making breakfast together, bringing the dogs to the dog park, having barbeque plans for lunch. It’s so domestic that it makes your cheeks burn with a blush you haven’t felt in a long time.

Tyler feels it, too.

Back at home, Tyler is quick to change for the pool. It’s hot and by the time you’ve gotten back to the house Tyler is all sweaty from wrestling the dogs. You change into your suit in the guest room where you’ve been staying the entire trip. The suit is a new bikini and before heading out you make sure to lather the tattoo with sunscreen.

Tyler’s mouth goes dry when you exit the back door of his house and step out in your tiny, bright red bikini. He’s thankful for the dogs and his sunglasses because the combination of the two things make it seem like he isn’t staring at you, but trust… He most certainly is.

“Want a beer?”

“Yeah, sure,” he answers. You turn and walk back into the house, amazingly not feeling the weight of his gaze on you despite the fact that he can’t stop staring at your ass.

You return with two beers in your hands and sit at the edge of the pool with your feet in. You hand Tyler his bottle with a soft smile as Cash settles beside you on the brick. Tyler taps the neck of your bottle with his.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Tyler says. He lifts the bottle to his lips and takes a swig. “Otherwise I’d have to leave the pool myself to get the beers.”

You splash water at him with a kick of the foot, but he dodges it.

You stand again, retrieving your towel from a lounge chair to spread it out beside the pool. Tyler watches you situate yourself, smiling to himself at the sight. He sees the tattoo from a far, but he wishes he could get a better look.

Cash comes over to curl up against your legs and soak up the sun with you. You smile down at the dog as Tyler chuckles at the scene playing out in front of him.

“I think Cash is in love with you,” he says. “I can’t say I blame him.”

About an hour and a few beers later, Tyler reaches out of the water with his cold and soaking hands to grab your ankles. He tugs on them, attempting to make you come into the water with him. You kick his hand away, sending him an irritated face. He pouts at you and begs, “Come in please.”

“Why?” you ask tersely. “I’m tanning.”

“You’ve been tanning for hours now,” he complains. You roll your eyes, sitting up so that you’re on your elbows to get a better look at him. “Just come in.”

“The only way you’re getting me to come in is if you make me,” you inform him. What a stupid thing to say to Tyler Seguin. He smiles at the challenge and climbs out of the pool, towering over you so that his body blocks the sun. You immediately realize where you fucked up and murmur, “Why did I say that?”

Without another word, Tyler reaches down and grabs both your arms until you’re standing in front of him. He wraps his arms around your waist, picks you up off the ground, and tosses you into the pool. He jumps in a second after to join you.

When you pop up above the surface, your hair is matted over your face. You reach up to wipe it away while you catch your breath, but Tyler’s hand is already moving to do it for you. He pulls the hair out of your face, revealing the glare you reserved just for him. He chuckles and wraps an arm around your waist to keep you close to him.

“I don’t know why I always challenge you like you won’t follow through,” you admit, throwing your arms around his shoulders. Tyler laughs. You wrap your legs around his waist and the laughter stops almost immediately as it gets caught in his throat. You reach one hand up to run your fingers through his hair. He drops his head to your shoulder to give you better access.

“Would you hate it if I was planning to have a party tomorrow night?” Tyler asks. His face is tilted so that his lips ghost the skin on your neck as he speaks. You lean your head on his, trying to ignore the goosebumps on your arms, trying to blame them on the breeze.

“For me?”

“Yeah, like a goodbye and I’ll see you soon party,” he states. He pulls away to look up at you. “I’ll totally cancel it if you don’t want it to happen.”

“No, that’s okay,” you answer. “It’ll be nice to go out with a bang.”

Another hum rumbles in his chest. He stands in the shallow end, you wrapped around him, for a few more silent minutes. Your fingers run through his hair, stopping at the nape of his neck to twirl the longer pieces around your index finger. The hand not wrapped around your body reaches up to your ribs. Tyler looks at his fingers as he brushes them over your tattoo and then he lets out a hefty sigh.

“I keep forgetting that this isn’t my real life,” he mumbles. Your fingers stop moving in his hair. He shifts slightly and places a kiss to your collarbone before he pulls his arms away and you drop your legs from his waist. “Want another beer?”

Your response comes out in the form of a whisper, “That’d be great.”

Tyler gets out of the pool and grabs a towel to dry himself before heading back up to the house for the beers. The dogs follow closely behind leaving nothing to distract you from your thoughts and Tyler’s words keep playing on repeat in your head.

Once the sun sets, you’re all showered and ready for dinner. Tyler’s busy with the dogs and getting his own self comfortable that you have a few minutes to yourself. You’re sitting at the end of the bed in the guest room in a pair of joggers and one of Tyler’s sweatshirts when Dan texts to see if you’re around to talk. You call him right away, realizing that the two of you hadn’t spoken on the phone since your first night in Dallas.

“Hey, babe,” he greets. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” you murmur. You lay back and stare at the ceiling with the phone pressed to your ear. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” he answers. “A little swamped at work. I wish I was coming home to you.”

“I’ll be home in two days!”

“I can’t wait.”

There’s a moment of silence that makes your stomach upset. You know the next time you are home with Dan is going to be nothing like the last times you’ve been at home with him. For one, California is calling. And, on the other hand, you’re so absolutely fucking in love with Tyler that it makes you a little bit sick.

Dan’s voice brings you back down to Earth as he asks, “What are you doing now?”

“Well, I just showered,” you explain. “Now I’m waiting for dinner to get here.”

“What’s the plan for dinner?”

“We ordered Chinese,” you answer. “Gonna go sit out by the fire pit and eat.”

“Sounds perfect,” he muses. When you don’t respond, he gets restless. “Are you okay? You don’t sound like yourself.”

You don’t mean for it to come out without a second thought, but your conscience feels way too guilty to keep this charade up for three more days. You blurt out, “I was offered a job at a publishing house in California before I left for Dallas. I accepted it.”

“I’m happy for you, YN,” he says. Although those words come out of his mouth, you can tell he doesn’t mean it. He’s confused by what this means. “Why didn’t you tell me? I didn’t even know you were applying out there.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” you answer. “It’s just that I’ve been coming up empty in Boston and New York and I went to that conference last month where they said California is a hot spot right now for people looking to go into publishing.”

“So, you’re moving to California?”

“Yes,” you answer, running a hand over your face in frustration. “The job starts on July 15th.”

“That’s in like three weeks,” Dan says. “That’s so soon.”

“I know.”

“I wish you told me.” It’s so silent on his end of the phone that you can hear Tyler talking to the dogs across the house. You stand up and start to pace the room. “What does this even mean for us?”

“Um, I don’t think I’m interested in doing long-distance,” you tell him. He sighs. “I really am sorry. I shouldn’t be doing this over the phone.”

“I mean, I definitely would’ve preferred a face-to-face conversation,” he admits. “But I did ask why you didn’t sound like yourself.”

“Dan, I’m sorry,” you murmur. He lets out a soft chuckle. “I wanted to wait until I got home, but I feel guilty doing that.”

“Hey, listen, I understand.”

“What?”

“I get it,” he repeats. “I know that it’s been a bitch for you to find a job. I’m just happy you found one.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m assuming we’re going to break up?” he asks. “Long distance doesn’t sound appealing to me either.”

“Yeah, I think that would be best for both of us,” you state. He hums in agreement. You let out a long sigh. “Dan, I didn’t want to do it like this.”

“I know that,” he says. “It’s just the way some things come up. In the moment.”

“Why are you so good?”

“Well, if we’re being honest,” he starts. “I think we both knew we weren’t in it for the long run. Don’t get me wrong, I really like you. You’re beautiful and funny and smart, but you’ve never been in this for real. I know that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” he presses. “We had fun, but it wasn’t meant to last. We were just trying to force it to work.” When you fail to answer him once more, Dan sighs and says, “Listen, let me know when you’re back. I’ll come by and pick up the stuff I left.”

“Okay, I’ll text you,” you respond. “Again, I’m sorry that I’m doing this over the phone.”

“It’s alright,” he states. “Text me when you want me to swing by. Enjoy the rest of your trip.”

Usually, you’d cry. You’d feel guilty for ending a relationship that never had any blow up. But, this break up feels like a weight off your shoulders. You lay down in the bed for a while, taking some time to yourself to just think, until Tyler calls for you to join him for dinner.

No more than two hours later, you’re sitting on one end of the sectional in Tyler’s living room watching Titanic. It’s been on for thirty minutes and you haven’t been paying attention one bit. Tyler’s sitting a few cushions away, his legs stretched out towards you so that his socked feet are inches from your thigh.

Dinner is long gone, empty cartons in the garbage, and the fire in the yard is out. Now, it’s just the two of you with Marshall curled up against Tyler and Cash sitting beside your feet.

“Why are you off right now?” Tyler asks, nudging your thigh with his foot. “Where’s your head at?”

“A million and one places,” you answer. Tyler grabs the remote and pauses the television. His abrupt movement alerts the dogs. He smirks at them, patting Marshall’s head to get him to put his head back down and turns his attention back to you.

“Explain.”

“I’ve just been thinking about what you said in the pool,” you elaborate. “About how this isn’t your real life, or mine.” Tyler sits up, but doesn’t say a word. He didn’t realize the statement would even resonate with you like it clearly has. “I just don’t want to go back to reality.”

“How come?”

“Reality means packing up my entire apartment, apartment hunting in California, starting a new job, being away from my family and my friends for a long time,” you list off. Tyler scratches the side of his head. “Besides, reality doesn’t have Marshall, or Cash, or you.”

You don’t hear it, but Tyler’s breath hitches in his throat.

“It’s not a big deal,” you continue. “Once I get back into the swing of things I’ll be fine.”

“You know you always have me around,” he states. “I might be a few states away, but I am always one call or text away.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Is that all?”

You debate telling him about your phone call with Dan, but decide against it. Instead, you nod ‘yes’ before crawling down to his side of the couch and laying your head on his chest. Tyler shifts, wrapping an arm around your back to keep you close to him. Then, he grabs the remote and turns the movie back on.

You don’t start paying attention, but having your face in his chest keeps him from noticing. His fingers trace soothing patterns along your back and after a little while your eyes start fluttering shut. It doesn’t take long for your breathing to slow and you fall asleep against Tyler.

“YN,” he whispers not long after. “You fell asleep.”

“Hi,” you grumble. He chuckles as you lift your head with your hair matted to your cheek. “Morning.”

“Ready for bed?” he asks. You nod, crawling off his body to stand. He shuts the TV off and fixes the throw pillows that had been tossed to the side hours before. Before heading down the hall, he whistles for the dogs to follow him. They do, and so do you.

You walk a few steps behind him toward the guest room, but stop at the door as Tyler continues walking.

“Can we have a sleepover tonight?” you ask from the threshold of your room. Tyler spins on his heel. “It’s okay if not.”

“You can totally come sleepover,” he answers. “But does that mean I have to sleep with a shirt on tonight?”

You roll your eyes at him.

Tyler stays true to himself and remains shirtless for bed. When you walk into his room after brushing your teeth, he’s leaning up against the headboard and tinkering away with his phone. He glances up at you, taking in the sight of you in his baggy sweatshirt and your grey joggers. You look so cozy that it makes his heart beat a little bit faster.

“Mom says hi,” he says. You smile. “She wants to know why you haven’t visited her with me.”

“Tell Mom that I say hi,” you counter. “And that I am a stressed out post-grad who struggles to visit her own family and they live twenty minutes away.”

Tyler laughs, typing out exactly what you said, and sending it. But, he also texts her: Plus, she just got a big girl job in LA. Busy times for Ms. YLN… I’m excited for her.

Tyler locks his phone and places it down on the bed side table, then reaches for yours and does the same. You slide into bed beside him, leaving a good chunk of space between your bodies. The dogs take your entrance into bed their cue to join. They fill up the space between you and Tyler.

“How am I supposed to cuddle you now?” Tyler asks. His lips are in a pout. He sits up again and shoos Marshall and Cash down the bed to your feet, then reaches out to pull you in. You scooch over without protesting and drop your head to his bare chest. His hand falls into your hair, fingers brushing through the knots gathered at the nape of your neck.

“Thank you for having me here.”

“Thank you for coming.”

It’s almost been exactly three years since the last time you shared a bed. It’s amazing how time has changed so many things, but hasn’t changed how easy this feels.

Tyler’s phone buzzes twenty minutes later after you’ve already fallen asleep. He reaches over without moving too much to avoid disturbing you. There’s an unread text from his mom: She’s making her way closer to you, huh? That’s good.

You wake up before Tyler the next morning. It seems like neither of you moved all night. Tyler’s still on his back, one arm around your body to keep you curled against him. It’s a struggle to leave the bed without waking him, but you manage to do it anyway.

You eat a bowl of cereal with Cash at your feet, then brew coffee to bring to Tyler in bed. The moment you walk in, the smell stirs his senses. He lifts his head, peaking an eye open to see you place the mug on his bed side table.

“I just ate some cereal,” you tell him. “I’m going to head out to the pool. Meet me out there?”

“Thanks,” he mumbles. He sits up, swinging his legs off the side of the bed, and picks up the coffee as you head out of the room to change into your suit. Cash follows you the entire way, plopping himself on your bed as you throw on the one piece you’d brought in addition to the bikini, not wanting to waste your day worrying about your tattoo.

When you leave the room, with towel in hand, Cash trots over to follow you. You pass the kitchen on the way out and see Tyler standing at the stove. His back is to you, toned and strong and begging to be touched by you. Okay, maybe not, but your hands want to touch it badly. Tyler hears you as you tug the sliding door open and glances over with a fond smile at the way Cash is still following you around.

Outside, you lay your towel on the bit of grass a few feet from the pool and collapse onto it. The sun is bright and warm against your skin and Cash is soft against your legs.

Tyler joins you about fifteen minutes later in a bathing suit with a towel of his own. Instead of jumping right into the pool with Marshall, he comes over and lays his towel down next to you. He plops himself down, inches from your face and smiles widely at you.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

Tyler situates himself to lay on his stomach, like you, and keeps his face turned toward yours. His eyes scan down your body, taking in the black bathing suit that cuts low on your back. He looks back up, not so subtly licking his lips, before saying, “I like this suit.”

Around lunch, Tyler’s been in the pool so long that his fingers are starting to prune. He pulls himself out long enough to make sandwiches for lunch. You follow him into the kitchen to help.

The two of you put together an assembly line of sorts with bread, cold cuts, cheeses, and condiments all laid out on the counter. Tyler starts, handing you a plate so you can create a sandwich beside him. You bump his hip with your own and he smiles down at you as he spreads mustard across his bread. He bumps you back with a little too much force, sending you stumbling to the right. Tyler barks out a laugh and grabs you by the waist to keep you upright, again with too much force.

“Are you trying to kill me?” you ask as you hit his chest with a thud. “You forget how much larger you are then me.”

Tyler looks down at you against his chest, takes one glance at how large his hand looks against your bare back, and grins. He leans his face a bit closer and states, “Trust me, I don’t forget.”

He releases you from his grip and continues down the line without another word.

Jamie shows up around dinner time with steaks to grill up. He’s dressed in a button up and some khaki shorts with boat shoes, hair done. You’re still out back in your bathing suits when he arrives. You two didn’t even know he was on the way to the house, or that he arrived. He just walks out the back door and hollers at you, “What the hell are you two still doing out here? I’ve been calling you both for the past thirty minutes.”

A look of concern passes over Tyler’s face. He asks, “How’d you get in?”

“I still have your spare.”

“I need that back!” Tyler exclaims. “I’ve been looking for it forever.”

“It’s on the counter,” Jamie says. He holds up the steaks in his hand and smiles. “Ready for dinner?”

“I’m starving,” you answer. You climb out of the pool, patting Cash on the head as you make your way up to the deck. You pass Jamie on the way into the house. “I saw some French fries in your freezer, so I’ll go make those.”

Tyler stays out at the grill with Jamie, despite how many times Jamie yells at him to, “Put a fucking shirt on, dude. I don’t need you breathing on me while you’re shirtless and wet!”

Cash and Marshall tangle themselves up at your feet while you cook, the promise of French fries far too good for them to pass up. And, yes, you do give them one or two, even though Tyler keeps fat shaming Cash.

You toss Cash a fry and smile when he hops up to catch it. Crouching down to pat him on the head, you say, “You’re beautiful. Don’t let Daddy tell you otherwise.”

“Daddy, huh?” Tyler’s voice makes you jump. You assumed he was still at the grill because you never even heard the sliding glass door open. There’s a shit eating grin on his face as he leans up against the counter, arms crossed, and stares at you. “I never thought I’d get the chance to hear you call me that.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you murmur. You stand upright, rolling your eyes at that smirk on his face before turning back to finish dumping the fries in a bowl. Tyler steps over to you and reaches up to the cabinet above your head. His hand drops to your back, right above the place where your suit starts, just above your ass.

He’s so close you can smell the chlorine on his skin, you can feel the body heat coming off him and his freshly tanned skin. He grabs a serving plate and pulls it down, tapping your head lightly with it on the way down. Then, his hand falls away and he’s walking back out of the room.

After dinner, Tyler and Jamie run out to grab alcohol for the night. People aren’t planning to come until 10 p.m., so you have a lot of time to relax and get ready. As soon as the boys leave to run their last-minute errands, you hop in the shower and admire the fresh tan you’ve acquired over the past two days on the way out.

For the next thirty minutes, you stare at the mass of clothes piled onto the guest bed. You hadn’t realized how much you packed for this trip until this moment. You look through them, pulling out a pair of funky light wash jeans and a few cropped tops. You shove the rest of the clothes back into your suitcase with no plans to fold them. That’ll be a Boston issue.

You put the pants on and stand in the mirror to check your butt out. Then, you rotate each shirt to see which one you like the best. You’ve grown slightly obsessed with your new tattoo, so you find yourself gravitating to the shirts that will show it off. That’s why you end up settling on a long sleeve, black shirt that stops just a few inches below your boobs.

You sit on the floor in front of the floor length mirror in the guest room and put your make-up on, cursing the low lighting the entire time. You don’t spend too much time on it tonight, just highlighter, mascara, a light eye shadow, and some lip gloss.

The boys come home and you can hear Tyler’s shower starting, followed by his awful shower singing voice.

You stand and check yourself out in the mirror once more. Your tattoo is completely visible and looks beautiful. You trace a finger along the lines with a satisfied smile.

You find Jamie out in the living room. He’s watching a baseball game on mute and turns when he hears your bare feet against the hardwood floor. He checks your outfit out and lets out a low whistle before complimenting, “You look good, dude.”

“Why, thank you!”

“And that tattoo!” he exclaims once he sees it. He stands up and walks around the couch, crouching a little once he gets closer to you to take a better look. “Seguin did good.”

“I agree.”

“Are you bummed you’re leaving tomorrow?” Jamie asks as he steps back and sits on the arm of the sofa, folding his hands in his lap.

“Yeah, it sucks,” you admit. “But, I think it’s good. I was getting way too comfortable here.”

“What’s so bad about that?”

“This isn’t where my life is,” you answer. “It’s just a vacation that feels really, really normal.”

“You should just move here.”

“I can’t spend my whole life following Tyler around.”

“Why not?”

You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. Quite frankly, it’s a good question, but you ignore it regardless and retreat to the kitchen with a roll of your eyes.

Tyler suggested making a jungle juice type of punch for the party and, sure enough, he followed through with the alcohol and the fruits to make it. He pulled out a punch bowl for you, too, so you start making it to the sounds of the now unmuted Rangers game.

When Tyler finally comes out of his room, he’s dressed in a tight black t-shirt and a pair of black jeans that make you a little light headed. He doesn’t look in your direction at first, the Rangers game capturing his attention the moment he steps into the room.

“Good game?” he asks. He sits beside Jamie and pulls his shoes on, then leans forward to continue watching. There’s another few seconds of silence. “Where’s YN?”

“Right here, dumbass,” you call out. Tyler looks over at you. You’re still not facing him, having only glanced over at him to see him enter the room. He hops off the couch and sidles up beside you, one arm wrapping around your shoulder to watch you stir some liquor into the bowl. His cologne floats to your nose. “You smell nice.”

“Thank you,” he says. He plants a kiss to your right temple and then drops his arm to grab beer from the fridge. He places one beside you, passing you on the way over to Jamie with a soft touch to your hip.

He can’t stop looking over at you. One second he’s completely zoned into the game and the next he’s turning his head to look at you again. Jamie catches on almost immediately and attempts to ignore it. But, after the fifth time Tyler glances over, Jamie smacks a pillow into Tyler’s chest and knocks the wind out of his lungs.

“What the fuck?” Tyler yelps. He yanks the pillow from Jamie and smacks him back.

“Ladies!” you exclaim. They look up at you with boyish smirks. “At least take your clothes off before having a pillow fight.”

“Don’t objectify me,” Tyler warns. Jamie snickers, mumbling under his breath, “You’d love it if she objectified you.”

Before either you or Tyler can respond, the doorbell is ringing and Cash and Marshall are running to it. Thus, the wave of partygoers makes their way into the house. You don’t know a single person in the crowd other than Jamie and Tyler, but everyone seems nice enough. There are a few guys, teammates you assume, that make a point to introduce themselves.

“Tyler always talks about you,” one of them, who you’re almost certain is named John, notes. “Sometimes it feels like the best thing that happened to him in Boston wasn’t the Stanley Cup, it was you.”

That’s not the only comment like that, but you try not to dwell on the others longer than necessary. These aren’t feelings you want to feel right now, not when your flight is a mere 18 hours away.

It doesn’t take long for the house to fill up and you soon find that it’s packed from wall to wall. The influx of guests has separated you from the two boys you feel most comfortable with and you’re desperate to find at least one of them. People are out by the pool, crowded around a folding table in the living room, sitting around the island in the kitchen. Everywhere you go you find people, but you can’t find the party host.

“Hey,” Jamie calls out to you. He’s sitting on the counter, a girl you’ve never met before between his legs. “You look lost.”

“Where’s Tyler?”

“Out back, maybe?” Jamie answers. He grits his teeth in a silent apology. “Do you want me to come look for him with you?”

“No,” you state after noticing his arm snake around the girl’s waist. You smile at them. “I’ll find him.”

You step out to the yard and find Tyler sitting at the table by the pool with a group of guys that had come in with your new friend, John. One of them taps his arm and nods up to you. Tyler looks over and a grin spreads across his face. He motions for you to come over to him and scoots his chair back from the table as you approach.

“Where’ve you been?”

You step up to the table, lean against the back of Tyler’s chair, and answer with a laugh, “Looking for you.”

“Everyone, this is YN.”

“Oh, we know,” one of the guys speaks up. He stands and announces that he’s off to get another drink, earning a murmur of agreement amongst the other men who get up to follow him. “Nice meeting you, YN. See you two inside.”

Once they’re on the way to the house, Tyler reaches up and tugs on your hand. You let him guide you to stand in front of him. You situate yourself between his knees, reaching up to cup both of his cheeks in your hands. He leans into your palm, staring up at you with his puppy dog eyes, and says, “Hi.”

“Hey,” you retort. He reaches up and grips your hips, pulling you into his lap. You wrap your arms around his shoulders in response, melting into the way one of his hands slides up your thigh and the other settles against your lower back. “When you said you were throwing a party, I didn’t expect this.”

“Too much?”

“No,” you answer. “I just didn’t think you had so many friends.” Tyler throws his head back in laughter and you smile at the reaction adoringly. You run one of your hands through his hair and tell him, “I like John.”

“Klingberg?”

“Yeah, he’s nice,” you state. Tyler chuckles softly. “Told me that people wouldn’t even know you won the Stanley Cup in Boston because all you talk about is me.”

“He said that?” Tyler asks, jaw slightly ajar. You nod. He drops his forehead to your shoulder with a loud groan. “Why would he say that? They love chirping me.”

“I’ll have you know that I’m very flattered,” you tell him. “I like to think that my friendship is a little more valuable to you than a large, silver trophy that too many mouths have touched.”

“I mean,” he murmurs. “Both are pretty fucking great.” Tyler leans back and stares at you as you watch the dogs chase each other in the grass. His fingers trail up and down your forearm, giving you goosebumps that he notices right away. “When am I going to see you again?”

You look back at him, tilting your head as you think about the answer. You state, “I’m not really sure.”

“I hate that answer.”

“Well, I need to get settled in Cali,” you answer. His eyes study your face as you talk, falling to your lips more than any other feature. “And you’re going to Canada after I leave to have some family time. Then, you’re going to be back here for the season.”

“And I have a feeling my California road trip isn’t until like halfway through the season,” he grunts. “Maybe I can come around the holidays? Or you can visit for Thanksgiving or something?”

“We’ll figure it out,” you promise. He nods. “We always do.”

Tyler squeezes your thigh lightly and, in response, you pinch the skin at the nape of his neck playfully. It feels so peaceful out in the backyard that it’s easy to forget the party inside. Once again, you’re wrapped up in your own little world with him. He runs his fingers along the back of your top, then down your spine. He looks down at your outfit again and then looks up at your eyes with a smile and says, “You look really good.”

“Tyler!” a shrill voice calls from the deck. Tyler almost winces when it shatters the moment between the two of you. “Come inside! We’re playing Thunderstruck!”

“Coming!” he responds before dropping his head against your shoulder again with a sigh. The hand that has been resting on your lower back trails up to the nape of your neck, scratching the back of your head lightly before dropping again. He taps your thigh to get you to stand and then takes your hand in his on the way back up to the house.

Thunderstruck did its job and, after it was over, everyone was on their way to lowered inhibitions and stupidity. Soon after, Tyler and Jamie were ripping shots with their teammates. They even managed to talk you into a few. Tyler’s fingers lingered a little too long on your back at the top of your jeans, but he never made it known that he knew what he was doing. He’s just drunk, touchy Tyler.

More people show up, this time a group of girls dressed like they’re going to a club. They’re beautiful and flock over to the boys as soon as they enter. They embrace all the guys like they’re old friends. It feels odd to be looking in at a moment like this. It’s a look at Tyler’s real life, the people he spends most of his time with nowadays.

Tyler gives a quick introduction to the girls for you and they’re friendly enough, but you can tell they’re wondering who you are and why you’re here. Then, one of them wraps her hand around Tyler’s elbow and tugs him away. He sends you a quick glance before going with her willingly to the corner of the kitchen.

“That’s Kelsie,” Jamie informs you. “They sleep together, occasionally.”

“I think I could’ve figured that out on my own,” you grunt. Jamie chuckles. “She’s pretty.”

“Yeah, but she’s kind of a bitch,” he murmurs. You smack him on the stomach. “I’m sorry, but it’s true.”

You take one last fleeting glance at the two of them in the corner. Tyler’s hand rests against the counter beside her hip and they’re both leaning into each other, smiling as they talk about whatever it is they could possibly be talking about. She giggles, tapping his arm lightly.

“Do you want to play beer pong?” you ask Jamie. He nods with a knowing smile and leads you out to the living room.

You’re bad at beer pong. It’s a known fact. Yet, Jamie carries the team enough for you to run the table for three or four games. Each time you finish a drink, John Klingberg goes to grab another for you. You’re steady on your feet, but you know that you’re drunker than you feel. Eventually, you and Jamie lose the spot at the table when two of his teammates beat you.

Jamie gives you a tight squeeze after you shake hands with the boys on the other end for playing a good game. Then, you step to the side and watch.

Tyler’s in the room now, but he’s sitting at the recliner on the other side. Kelsie’s still with him, sitting on the couch closest to the chair. He’s telling some elaborate story, you can tell by the way his hands are moving as he speak, and she’s giggling along with him. It makes you a little sick, sort of mad, but what are you going to do?

You think back to Dan and how easy it was to just break up with him because you knew Tyler was in the other room. Every relationship you’ve had since that kiss has meant nothing to you. You’ve been trying to date all these guys just to feel something and, yet, it hasn’t happened.

“Can I tell you something?” you ask Jamie. Your words come out a little slurred and you make a mental note to mix in a water after you have this conversation with Jamie. He furrows his eyebrows in response and nods. “I broke up with Dan yesterday.”

“What?” he asks. His eyebrows shoot up at your admission, but he leans in to have you repeat it because he’s almost certain there’s no way you just said what you said to him.

“I broke up with Dan,” you repeat. Jamie’s hands shoot out to grab you by the hips and shake you. You slap his chest lightly.

“Have you told Tyler?”

“No.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“I didn’t want the rest of my trip to be all about the break up,” you tell him. Jamie rolls his eyes so dramatically that you’re convinced if you hit him in the back of the head they could get stuck like that.

“If you think for a second that Tyler would want to spend another minute talking about Dan, you’re out of your mind,” Jamie states. It’s your turn to roll your eyes. “I’m serious.”

“It’s so stupid,” you murmur. “I’m not telling him now. He’s with that girl.”

“He’s with that girl because he thinks you’re still with Dan.”

“Stop,” you grumble. Jamie grabs your hand and yanks you down the hallway to the guest room. He pushes you in and shuts the door behind him. “Why are we in here?”

“Because I need to talk some sense into your drunk ass.”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“He’s in love with you,” Jamie declares. “The kid’s been in love with you for years and I think you’ve been in love with him just the same. This is the chance to figure it out.”

“I’m moving to California.”

“So?”

“I’m not doing long-distance,” you state. Jamie run a hand through his hair, face red in frustration.

“You two already do long-distance,” he argues. You shake your head. He’s right and you know it. You literally said it to Tyler the other day as a joke. “I have spent the last three years listening to him pine after you. Every single girl he’s ever been with, even if it’s only for a night, is compared to you. I’ve been a third wheel for far too long just to make sure that he doesn’t fuck up the way that he did on the Fourth of July in 2013.”

“He didn’t fuck up.”

“Well, he’s spent the better part of three years thinking that kissing you was a mistake,” Jamie says. “You’ve never talked about it with him and, although I can see the way you look at him, Tyler is way too dense to see how crazy you are about him.” He takes a breath and then says, “If nothing else, at least tell him it wasn’t a mistake. Tell him that there are feelings there for him, however small they may be. He deserves to know that it’s not a lost cause.”

You stare at Jamie, dumbfounded. He stares back, waiting for a response. After a minute of silence, you sigh and tell him, “It’s bad timing, Jamie. Tyler deserves someone to come home to and that’s not going to happen with me now, maybe not ever. Our timing has never been right, and it’s not right now. I don’t want to jump the gun and try to make this happen when I know I can’t put my all into it like I would want to.”

Jamie huffs, tossing his head back like a frustrated toddler. A groan escapes his lips just before he returns his attention to you. He shakes his head and says, “Fine. If you’re not going to talk about your feelings for him to him, then at least tell him you broke up with Dan. He is your best friend after all.”

Before you can respond, he turns to the door and reaches out for the handle. He looks back once more, glancing at the clock on the bedside table. It reads 11:30 p.m.

“You have until midnight,” he says. “And if you don’t tell him by then, I’m taking it into my hands.”

You’re way too drunk, wayyyy too drunk. You’ve lost Tyler again, as well as Jamie, so you’re in the kitchen with a glass of water hoping that it’ll sober you up enough to get through the night. You’re having a stare down with the clock on Tyler’s stove. It’s five minutes from midnight and there’s no shot you’re finding him before Jamie breaks the news.

Tyler is sitting out back in a lounge chair on the deck with Kelsie by his feet. She’s rubbing her hand against his shins, listening to Tyler’s conversation with a friend. Tyler checks his phone, wondering where you’ve been and why you haven’t come looking for him. He glances over at Kelsie with an uneasy sigh.

Moments later, the door slides open and Jamie’s on the other side. He lets out a breath when he sees Tyler. Tyler looks up at him and sits up straight, swinging his feet off the lounge chair and away from Kelsie’s hand.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Jamie says as he steps out onto the deck. “Have you talked to YN?”

“No,” Tyler answers. He gets to his feet immediately, feeling a panic set in. “Where is she? Is she okay?”

“She broke up with Dan yesterday,” Jamie tells him. Tyler’s eyes widen. “She just told me.”

Tyler brushes past Jamie and storms into the house to look for you. No sign of you in the living room or down the hallway to his room, so he continues into the kitchen and finds you talking to John. Tyler approaches, grabbing your wrist to pull you away from his teammate without an apology. You stumble forward into his chest. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer, bringing his lips to your ear to ask, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You look up at him, eyes wide, and he returns the same gaze. His hold so many questions. You sigh, running a hand up his chest to his shoulder to push away from him lightly.

“Can we talk about this later?”

“I just don’t understand why you told Jamie, but not me.”

“Later.”

Tyler’s shoulders drop and he releases you from his arms. He takes one last look at you. His face is riddled with anger, frustration, hope. He’s never felt like this before, like he has no control over a situation. And this situation, with you, is one he’s never been able to control.

Fortunately for impatient Tyler, people start clearing out about half an hour after he confronts you. He’s been doing his best to steer clear of you because, honestly, he didn’t think he could talk to you without bringing the conversation up again.

Jamie and the boys are the last to leave. They step out onto the porch with Tyler as they walk out to their Ubers, but Jamie stays a moment longer. He wraps his arms around you and squeezes.

“I’m sorry I had to tell him,” he mumbles into your hair. “I needed him to know.”

“It’s okay,” you state. “Hey, maybe I’ll be thanking you.”

“Maybe,” Jamie repeats. He steps back, smoothing a hand over your hair. “Good luck on the move and the new job. I’m excited to see the place whenever we come visit.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah, you will,” he says with a nod. He plants a kiss on your forehead, gives your hand one last squeeze, and then steps out to the porch, passing Tyler on the way. They exchange a quick goodbye, saying something about seeing each other tomorrow, and then Tyler steps inside and closes the door.

After he locks it, Tyler turns around and looks at you. He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He throws his arms up in defeat and then laces a hand through his hair. You cross your arms against your chest and bite your lip before blurting out, “I’m sorry.”

“When did you break up with him?”

“Before dinner yesterday,” you answer. “He called and everything just came out. About my job, about my move, everything.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want the last 48 hours of my trip to revolve around it.”

“Never in a million years would it revolve around that,” Tyler states. “I have never wanted to talk about your relationships or your boyfriends. I don’t like to hear about that part of your life.”

“Should we clean up?” Tyler’s jaw drops at the question. He just sort of admitted to his feelings that are still very much there and you ask to clean up? “We need to clean up because we’re not going to bed with the house looking like this. I’ll answer all your questions. We will talk. But, first, I need to clean some of this mess.”

“You drive me crazy,” he mumbles. He walks past you into the kitchen and mumbles as he grabs some cleaning supplies, “In more ways than one.”

Tyler takes the living room, you take the kitchen, and you work in complete silence. You take a bit longer than him, scrubbing the surfaces of his counter to get the stickiness off it. He steps into the kitchen and watches you for a moment before asking, “Need help?”

“I’m almost done,” you answer. You wipe a few more times as he approaches. He sits down at one of the stools and drops his chin into his hand to watch you. “Are you done?”

“Yeah, I just threw stuff in a garbage bag.”

You hum in response, wiping a towel across the counter to dry it. Then, you take a step back to look at the entire counter. It’s completely cleared and washed down. Tyler stands, trailing a finger across the surface with a smile.

“All clean,” he notes. “Can we talk now?”

“Can we brush our teeth first?” you ask. He rolls his eyes. “Please.”

You’re stalling. He knows it. But, he also doesn’t mind.

You follow him into his bedroom where you left you pajamas earlier in the day. Tyler pulls his clothing off shamelessly on the other side of the room and slips on a pair of sweatpants before leaving to brush his teeth. You change as soon as he leaves the room, back into his t-shirt and your sweats.

You enter the bathroom where Tyler is standing in the mirror with his toothbrush in his mouth. He hands your toothbrush over to you with the tube of toothpaste and smiles. He spits moments after you start brushing and washes his mouth out with some water. Instead of leaving the room, he sits against the counter and waits for you to finish.

You spit a minute later, washing your mouth like he just had. You wipe the corners of your mouth with a paper towel, then look over at him. The frustration and confusion displayed in his eyes from before has melted away to the look you always get from him. Adoration.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t reach over to take your hand or pull you into a hug. He stays complete still, his eyes the only part of him that is moving and, even then, they stay on your face. So, you move. You step forward, between his legs, and drop your head to his shoulder. His hands slide up your sides and around your back, pulling you into his chest.

Another few minutes are spent like that until one of Tyler’s hands moves to your chin. He picks your head up and his lips part with a sigh. He leans in, the side of his nose bumping with yours, and then he closes the gap with his lips.

It’s the same type of kiss as the one from 2013, but this time when he pulls away neither of you stop another kiss from happening. His lips ghost over yours before he leans back in again. Your fingers find the curls at the nape of his neck and stay there, playing with the loose strands as you wait for the next kiss.

The second one is more passionate and Tyler can’t get you close enough. His hand wraps around the nape of you neck, the other keeping you steady at your lower back. Tyler swipes his tongue along your bottom lip and your lips part in response.

Tyler’s arms wrap completely around your waist. He pushes off the counter, keeping you close to him and lifts you off the ground. You wrap your legs around him with your hands laced in his hair, gripping at the roots. He carries you to his room and shoos the dogs off the bed before placing you down on the mattress.

He’s hovering over you moments later and your hands have a mind of their own, traveling over his shoulders and his biceps, back to his cheeks. He pulls his lips away from yours long enough to kiss your jaw and your neck. His hands trail beneath your shirt, pushing it up to reveal your stomach.

There’s no thinking involved, just his mind on overdrive. He inches down your body and presses his lips against your stomach, kissing to the waistband of your joggers and earning a gasp from your lips. He smiles against your skin.

Your fingers lace through his hair as he ghosts his lips over your skin. He brings his lips to your ribs and kisses the tattoo. Then, he comes back up to kiss your lips again. He knows he needs to slow it down, but he doesn’t want to.

After a few more kisses, he drops to your side, nestling his face in your neck after placing one last lingering kiss against your skin. He sighs, “This wasn’t how I wanted this conversation to go.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, I kissed you,” he says. “It’s on me.”

“It’s okay,” you say again. There’s a heavy silence that settles between the two of you. Tyler presses a kiss against your throat and then lifts his head to support it in his hand. You look at him as you play with his hair, admiring his face. “I don’t think I’ve ever been kissed like that.”

“That’s the only way you should ever be kissed,” Tyler states. He leans down and kisses you again, short and sweet. He’s trying to keep himself from letting this get too far. He drops his head into your neck again and asks, “Can you feel my heartbeat? It’s pounding.”

“Mine too,” you respond. You reach up and run a hand over your face. “God, this is so stupid.”

“What do you mean?” he asks, lifting his head to get a better look at you.

“Our timing is such shit,” you elaborate. “I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“I know that,” Tyler says. “But that doesn’t matter. Right?” You don’t respond, but he sees the look on your face and knows immediately where this conversation is going. He knows you too well to not realize he’s about to be shot down by the only girl he’s ever loved like this. He shakes his head and says, “You know what? Don’t answer that. We can have that conversation tomorrow. Just let me have this for one night.”

Tyler lifts your hand to his lips and flips it to place a kiss on the stars on your skin.

#tyler seguin #tyler seguin x reader #tyler seguin story #tyler seguin fic #tyler seguin imagine #dallas stars imagine #hockey imagine

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musicalluna · 5 years ago

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@onemuseleft conned me into writing for guardian and i am having the time of my life ILY BOO

this is an alternate scene for eipsode 25 so. spoilers for that (kinda)

warnings: torture, violence, blood, sexual assault (kissing), assault assault

Zhao Yunlan wakes with a splitting headache and a shrill noise in his ears that he doesn’t realize isn’t coming from inside his head until he cracks open his eyes and discovers Kong Jing drilling at a table to his left.

Kong Jing looks back, noticing he’s awake, and smiles, sucking his lower lip into his mouth.

Zhao Yunlan laughs, more nervous than he’d like.

Kong Jing gets to his feet, making a fluttering gesture with the drill in his hand. “You’re awake!” he says, bending close to Zhao Yunlan.

Zhao Yunlan sits very still as Kong Jing gestures toward the table. “Have a look at what I’ve prepared for you!”

“You’re mistaken,” Zhao Yunlan says slowly. “I’m not awake yet.” He lets his head fall back down to his chest, even as Kong Jing giggles and flaps a hand at him.

“Stop it,” he says, like a teenager flirting, “I’ll help you wake up, okay?”

No, Zhao Yunlan thinks, not okay, not okay.

He moves back over to the table and Zhao Yunlan watches from beneath his hair as Kong Jing runs his fingers over the implements on the table. While he’s distracted, Zhao Yunlan reviews the situation. He’s handcuffed, legs zip-tied, ropes around his waist. Zhao Yunlan’s heart, already beating too fast, only goes quicker when he sees what Kong Jing is looking at on the table--a series of saws, a couple of drills, a meat tenderizer--a hatchet.

Zhao Yunlan closes his eyes as Kong Jing starts to turn. A loud crack makes him flinch and he jolts back, eyes snapping open. Kong Jing twirls an enormous feather duster through the air with a noise that makes Zhao Yunlan’s stomach squirm. He hates this. It’s bad enough being captured, worse being captured by someone he’s not sure he can predict from one moment to the next.

“Satisfying,” Kong Jing whimpers and then plucks a feather from the end of the duster and drops it on the ground.

Zhao Yunlan closes his eyes again, leaning into the I’m not awake bit. He’s not expecting Kong Jing to put the feather in his ear and he jerks back with a yell, hands coming up to ward off Kong Jing.

Panic surges through him when Kong Jing puckers up and leans in. He’s not quick enough to push Kong Jing back and his body locks up in shock as Kong Jing smashes their mouths together.

He makes a horrified noise that disappears into Kong Jing’s mouth, morphing into another stunned cry when Kong Jing bites down on his lip. The taste of blood bursts across Zhao Yunlan’s tongue and he jolts backward violently enough that the entire chair topples over. His already tender head bounces off the wood floor and Zhao Yunlan groans, nausea surging in his stomach.

“You’re bad,” Kong Jing says, grabbing hold of his jacket lapels and hauling Zhao Yunlan back upright. The movement makes him dizzy. Zhao Yunlan reaches out to push Kong Jing back automatically, the back of his neck tingling with fear. He was not prepared for this.

Kong Jing grins at him and then plops himself down on Zhao Yunlan’s lap, his knees splayed out on either side of Zhao Yunlan’s hips. “Not cool, bro,” he informs Kong Jing breathlessly.

“Sis,” Kong Jing corrects, breath hot on Zhao Yunlan’s cheek, and then reaches over to the table and grabs one of the implements. The hand drill, Zhao Yunlan realizes, when he settles back into place. He makes a wordless noise of protest and tries to buck Kong Jing off, but he can’t get the leverage.

Kong Jing plants the drill against his shoulder and then starts to crank.

Zhao Yunlan screams.

---

Shen Wei is the first out of the car.

He bolts toward the building, praying that they aren’t too late when a scream tears through the night air and he goes woozy for an instant. “Zhao Yunlan,” he breathes and pushes himself to run faster.

The scream is prolonged, dipping into a gurgling moan before surging back, and the fear feels like a living thing under Shen Wei’s skin. He teleports the remaining distance into the house and arrives to see a wild-eyed Kong Jing straddling Zhao Yunlan’s lap, holding something to his shoulder.

Without pausing to assess more than that, Shen Wei sprints forward and drives his foot into Kong Jing’s side. Kong Jing goes flying, landing sprawled on the floor halfway across the room with a sickening crunch, but Shen Wei pays him no mind, distracted by the horrific, wet yell that tears from Zhao Yunlan’s throat.

“Zhao Yunlan,” he gasps, dropping to his knees at Zhao Yunlan’s side. “I’m late,” he says, voice cracking.

Zhao Yunlan gives a wheezy little laugh, his head tilted back. “You were doing so well, too.” There are tears in his eyes and Shen Wei can see now that the object is a drill and it’s not pressed against Zhao Yunlan’s shoulder, but embedded in it. Shen Wei sucks in a breath through a too-tight throat. Zhao Yunlan drags his head forward with what looks like gargantuan effort. “Don't take your eyes off him,” he tells Shen Wei.

Shen Wei wants to remove the drill immediately, but he can see the sense in what Zhao Yunlan says. Fortunately, before he has to leave Zhao Yunlan’s side, Lin Jing comes through the door, followed swiftly by Chu Shuzi.

Lin Jing stares from Zhao Yunlan to Kong Jing. “Is that-- Is he--”

Chu Shuzi seems to have returned to normal because he takes in the scene impassively and then moves to Kong Jing’s side and takes his pulse. After a moment, he looks up. “Dead.”

Zhao Yunlan, with one hand curled around the drill, close but not touching, sighs.

Chu Shuzi’s expression darkens. “Did he do that to you?”

“Who else?” Zhao Yunlan says, slumping a little further into the chair. “Shen Wei,” he says, groping with his left hand until he catches the sleeve of Shen Wei’s jacket, “get it out of me.”

“Of course,” Shen Wei says, but the thought shakes him. He knows it must be removed so he can heal Zhao Yunlan, but there’s nothing he can do to stop the pain of the removal, and the thought of causing him more pain is unbearable.

Guo arrives finally, takes one look at Zhao Yunlan, and the body on the floor, and then promptly faints. Lin Jing catches him--in a way.

“Chu Shuzi,” Shen Wei says, “help me with this.”

Chu Shuzi nods and joins him next to Zhao Yunlan.

Zhao Yunlan blinks at him, head wobbling slightly on his neck. He watches with hazy eyes as they situate themselves around him.

Shen Wei looks at Chu Shuzi apprehensively. “What is the best course of action? Do we remove it quickly?”

Chu Shuzi studies the drill embedded in Zhao Yunlan’s shoulder. “You can heal the injury. Removing it carefully will only prolong the pain.” He looks up and meets Shen Wei’s gaze, sympathy in his eyes.

Shen Wei nods tightly. He curls an arm around Zhao Yunlan’s waist, partially as a comfort, and partially to hold him in place. He links the fingers of his other hand with Zhao Yunlan’s. “Do it.”

Given the green light, Chu Shuzi doesn’t hesitate. He grips the handle of the drill and jerks it out of the wound in one quick gesture, flinging blood in an arc. Zhao Yunlan convulses forward, a nearly soundless cry issuing from his lips as the breath is punched from his lungs.

“Hold on, A-Lan,” Shen Wei murmurs, pressing his mouth to the side of Zhao Yunlan’s head, “Give me a moment.” He presses the hand not linked with Zhao Yunlan’s over the injury, blood pulsing over the back of his hand in thick rivulets despite the pressure and he calls dark energy to heal Zhao Yunlan.

Zhao Yunlan’s grip on his hand tightens to the point of pain, but Shen Wei is hardly aware of it as he pushes energy into Zhao Yunlan’s body, knitting it back together.

Finally, the bloody hole in Zhao Yunlan’s shoulder closes and he sighs in relief. “Oh, that’s better.”

Shen Wei presses his forehead to the side of Zhao Yunlan’s head and just listens to him breathe for a moment, relief, and the exertion making his muscles weak. Zhao Yunlan squeezes his hand.

“That...did not feel good.”

Chu Shuzi snorts and gets to his feet. “Glad you’ll be all right.” He leaves them.

“Hey, will you get me out of these?” Zhao Yunlan asks, holding out his bound wrists.

“Of course,” Shen Wei murmurs and quickly gets rid of the cuffs, pulling off the rope, and snapping the zip ties around Zhao Yunlan’s legs. Zhao Yunlan turns on the chair when he’s free and smiles down at Shen Wei, hands on Shen Wei’s shoulders.

His teeth are bloody.

Shen Wei’s fingers tighten around his leg. “Did he hit you as well?”

“Ah?” Zhao Yunlan says and then catches Shen Wei’s gaze. He runs his tongue over his teeth and grimaces. “I guess you could say that. He hit me with his mouth.”

Shen Wei’s spine goes rigid, his jaw tensing. “What?”

Zhao Yunlan closed one eye, rubbing at his mouth. “He kissed me. Violently.”

Shen Wei feels a wave of protective fury and wishes he’d been more cognizant of what he was doing when he kicked Kong Jing.

Zhao Yunlan gives him an apprehensive look, petting his shoulders. “Hey, I didn’t like it or anything.”

That’s enough to knock Shen Wei out of his murderous line of thinking. He stares at Zhao Yunlan incredulously. “Of course you didn’t!”

“Oh,” Zhao Yunlan relaxes under his hands. “That’s okay then.”

“It is not,” Shen Wei replies severely. “How dare he put his hands on you.”

Zhao Yunlan grins at him a little and leans in close. “Mm, Black Cloak Daddy, you can put your hands on me any time.”

Shen Wei manages to stifle the urge to throw him out the window.

#guardian #musicalluna writes #zhao yunlan #hurt!zhao yunlan #shen wei #zhao yunlan/shen wei #alternate scene #protective!shen wei #onemuseleft

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soranihimawari · 5 years ago

Text

Hold me close:

Part 2 of the Kuroo x 1st person reader (1st/fem! point of view. Named her Nekomata, Kat or Shamu for calico cats)

Tag list: @vbcshenaningansnwritings & @kaidasen

Begin here :

My alarm on my phone began to chime at 5a.m. I stifled a yawn as I silenced it. I woke up to two texts on my screen both from Kuroo telling me to sleep well and another for the morning. To say I was amused was not the least bit a lie. I chuckled softly when I pulled my hoodie over my tank top. I remained in my workout leggings from the night before, however I opted to keep my hair down instead of tying it back in a top knot bun. Today was a different day, so perhaps after I sneak back in, Lev would be awake. After the events of yesterday, I think he’d appreciate the gesture of me trying to help him control his aim. I slipped on my sneakers close to the classroom door, careful to not disturb any of my sleeping neighbors.

I was greeted by the Nekoma captain leaning against the opposite side of the wall dressed as casually as I was. He was quick to take hold of my hand and lead me down the hallway of our campus. In a matter of minutes, we snuck past all of the rooms hosting the different teams during the training camp. We did not speak a word to each other until we were outside the campus gates. Kuroo let go of my hand asking me where we were headed.

“I just wanted to get some peanut m&ms and coffee,” my groggy voice seemed to have been filtered with gravel this morning. “I didn’t want to walk these streets alone.” Kuroo nodded, agreeing with me that these streets were safely lit, but I shouldn’t be walking in the dawn alone. We reached the local 7/11 by our campus where we went aisle by aisle browsing through different products.

I stopped in front of the coffee machines and hid my tired expression by rubbing the side of my eye.

“Here, lemme pour that. You seemed tired enough as it is,” Kuroo offered.

“O-okay. You know, I could do it myself,” I teased. However, he wasn’t having it, to which I laughed off later. He poured one for himself as well. Soon, we exited the store, splitting the bag of candy between us. He noticed I was only eating the the primary color ones first before moving on to the oranges and greens, finishing the bag with the browns.

“Why do you do that?” he asked. I suppose he was entertained by my color-coded pickiness.

“All m&ms are the same milk chocolate. Is there anything wrong with color coding my candy?” I inquired. I began to sip the remainder of my coffee little by little as Kuroo continued walking at my side. The streaks of the morning sun began to filter through the light gray clouds overhead.

“No. It’s just funny is all.”

“Of course it is. How’s the coffee?”

“It’s fine, Kat. Just like you.”

“Are you attempting to flirt with me right at the sunrise?”

“Maybe. Is that bad?”

I took another swig of my coffee. My cheeks were a bit flushed with color from the hot beverage, but there was an underlying redness to them and I knew it was from his compliment.

“No. Actually, coming from you, I think that was rather sweet.” My lips curled into a childlike smile. He arched his eyebrow at me before choking on his next sip of his coffee. This caused me to burst into maniacal fit of giggles.

“One compliment in for the day and I have already broken her.” Kuroo muttered when he was able to calm down. By 5:25, we were already back on campus grounds, awaiting the rest of the members of the teams to wake up. Morning practices typically included a jog, so everyone except for the secondary managers and myself stayed behind to begin preparing breakfast for the players.

In the kitchen, I heard the mixer for the scrambled eggs go off as well as the toaster ding every couple of seconds or so. Hitoka was in charge of the eggs while Yukie, the manager from Fukurodani, was in charge of the toast. I, on the other hand, was manning the gas lit stove. I rolled up my sleeves and put on my earbuds. I played jazz selections from the early 40s-late70s while making the rolled egg omelets. We did this for roughly an hour and a half, until the teachers and coaches walked in to see how efficient we were at making breakfast.

“Yukie, Hitoka, help me out by beginning to fry some of the bacon please on that stove over there,” I instructed, tossing my head back over my shoulder to point to the stove.

“Yes ma’am!” they said in unison.

“That granddaughter of yours is something else,” we heard Takeda-sensei compliment me. Nekomata clasped the young educator by his shoulder.

“Of course she is. Kat leads by example. After all, this isn’t her first training camp with me,” my grandfather stated.

Around 7:30 all teams had returned from their morning run and began to walk through the kitchen. I made sure Yukie and Hitoka ate before the boys came and wrecked havoc on the simple spread of breakfast items we had laid out for them. I paused my music for a moment before I disappeared back into the kitchen to make myself a plate of over easy eggs and buttered toast. I took my plate and wandered off to the back of the kitchen to sit on one of the steps. I placed my earphones back in once the volume of the chatter were echoing, just this once, I would like my peace to eat alone. A morning spent with John Coltrane’s Giant Steps was a morning well spent, in my opinion. I stifled another yawn as I raised my arms above my head in an attempt to stretch. I overheard the coaches instructing their players which drills they were going to be practicing with through the lowered volume of my headphones.

“Just enough time in between drills to start on lunch,” I said softly to myself. I checked the time of my phone and noticed I had about another thirty minutes or so before I had my one on one lessons with Lev. I pulled myself up off my make shift dining area and went back into the kitchen. I paused my music and disconnected my headphones in order to place them back in my shared room with the other managers. Those who went on the morning runs with their teams volunteered to do the dishes this time since the work was needed to be evenly balanced. I thanked the girls for their help while I walked back to our room to freshen up a bit more (i could tell I smelled like the meal I cooked for the boys, so a quick rinse was in order for me before I went to gym 3 sporting just my gray sports bra and magenta dry fit capris [with my sneakers on again]).

I had arrived at gym 3 a couple of minutes late to see Lev, Yaku, Bokuto, and Kuroo taking turns practicing spikes. Bokuto spotted me out of the corner of his eye and he nudged Kuroo with his elbow.

“What the hell Bo, that hu--Oh,” Kuroo said when he saw me standing there half clad ready to get work done. His blush was not very concealed when Lev and Yaku looked at their captain with knowing grins.

“Neko-senpai looks amazing,” Lev whispered into Kuroo’s ear. Yaku almost roundhouse kicked him, but he didn’t when Kuroo collected his thoughts into a solemn, “Yeah,” which Bokuto heard.

Bokuto wasn’t as dense or as thick headed as every one seemed to me

“Hey hey hey! Kat’s here!” Bokuto exclaimed jogging up to me. His gray and white hair bounced along as he ran, which caused me to chuckle. “You’re going to join us?”

“Hey yourself Bo,” I said walking in. He picked me up in a hug and twirled me around before placing me back down on the gym floor. This caused me to see Kuroo’s nostrils flare in a small fit of jealousy. Yes, I may have known Kuroo for a short period of school time, but Bokuto and I were close in elementary school before splitting up to different junior high and high schools. We remained in contact over the years especially since volleyball was the one thing that brought our friendship together (that and gramps had a close friendship with the Fukurodani coach).

“Morning guys. Bo, you had your fun, but I’m actually here for Lev,” I said bending down to pick up a few of the strewn volleyballs. I nodded toward where the tall string bean first year stood. “C’mon, let’s use the other court set up for spike practice. Have fun boys.”

Lev followed behind me with a few more volleyballs in his hands and he placed them on the floor behind one of the serving boundary lines. His other companions were starting up a receiving drill (usually comprised of one setter and spiker duo and a solo player on the othrer side, typically a libero).

“Alright Lev,” I began bouncing one of the royal blue and canary yellow spheres on the floor. “I’m going to have you stand on the opposite side of the net and I want you to watch me as I serve. I’m going to need you to try and either one, let it go out of bounds or two, receive it. Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be, senpai,” Lev said with a shrug. I smiled with glee. This child wouldn’t know what hit him. I thought. Maybe I should hold back? Nah, my inner voice snickered. This is for the benefit of the team if he’s going to learn today...

I gave the ball a solid bounce before I walked behind the server’s line and tossed the ball high in the air. The split second the ball reached the appropriate height for me I leaped into the air and with another loud crack sprouting from my left palm,the ball whirred past Lev’s tall stature. I landed on my feet with a proud smile when I saw where the ball landed, it was inside the lines of the court, meaning that in an official match, I had scored a service ace. Gramps always taught me to try to aim for the spot none of the other players were thinking the ball would go.

The others stopped for a moment in the middle of their own self practice long enough to witness the magic that just occurred. I guess I was able to shock them into a renowned silence. Honestly,because I had other interests than volleyball, maybe they thought I didn’t know how to play? However, there was no time to waste, so I bent down to pick up another ball to send over the net.

“Don’t tell me you three thought I couldn’t play volleyball? Me, the granddaughter of Nekoma’s formidable coach? Haha,” I teased, brushing my hair over my shoulder. Lev seemed petrified for a few seconds while his seniors shook their heads before chuckling along nervously at my strong serve. “It’s alright, I’m joking. So Lev, are you ready for another one?”

“N-no? How did you do that? I mean you almost hit me!” Lev said with an admiring sheen over his eyes.

“Practice? I mean, you could have returned it instead of letting it slip by, Lev. Clearly that was a service ace,” I replied with a shrug. “You want to serve to me this time?”

He agreed on the condition that he listened to my instruction for the next hour and a half. His serves did get better, in my honest opinion. Lev had improved his command on where the ball was heading. I was able to return a few of his serves, but I have a feeling his technique would improve over time.

“I think we ought to stop here before you over work your arm,” I mentioned, patting Lev’s shoulder when he crossed under the net. “Improvement is not going to come overnight, but your serving aim did gain some control.”

“You think so?” Lev asked me when he straightened up.

“Well, yeah. We’ve been at this for a little over an hour, but” I began. I had simply not paid attention to the time before Kiyoko and Yukie appeared to escort the boys to the main gym where their practice games were about to begin.

“You four clearly have practice matches to get to.” I walked toward the other three and ushered them out of the gym much to their protesting, but I was not budging on them missing out on team practice. Once the group had left, I began picking up the remainder of the volleyballs laying across both courts before wheeling the carts away to the side of the wall.

Kuroo came back a few minutes later before I was able to press song shuffle on my phone’s GooglePlay. I tucked my phone in my side pocket of the leggings I wore when he greeted me with a bashful look. How did this captain seem so competely competent on the court yet now look like a shy elementary school kid who saw their teacher on their midday attire?

“Oh, Kuroo? Did you forget something?” I asked, wiping the sweat drops off my forehead with the back of my hand. I approached him when I noticed he was fidgeting with his hands like he did when he had something on his mind. I glanced up at him, thinking of what I should help the girls prepare for lunch, but that was neither here nor there.

“Uh, yeah. I did,” he replied, bending down toward me. It happened so quickly; his lips brushed against mine gently. No one would have noticed unless I told them that his lips lightly pressed against my own. A kiss for luck? I though. Maybe this was not what I was expecting at all; there was this inkling of short-lived innocent wondering what his lips would feel like against mine that floated in my head. Light like cotton candy and sweet like caramel, I mused.

When he pulled away, I yearned for him to kiss me again, but I tucked thought back into my mind. Kuroo looked over my shoulder for a moment before mentioning he should head back before his team would play without him. I traced my lips with my index finger, still feeling the giddiness spread across my body like wildfire.

“Good luck in your match against Bokuto, Kuroo. Oh,” I said reaching out to stop him from leaving for a moment. “Don’t be too mad at our friend for hugging me the way he did earlier. You did look annoyed when you have jealousy written on your brow...”

***

Later on that evening, before I went to bed, I received a text from Kuroo asking me to meet him by the vending machines by his classroom turned dorm for the training camp. He claims it wasn’t his idea, but Bokuto was the one who actually sent me the message, seeing as they had a phone mix up earlier after their practice games had ceased.

“Are you trying to blame Bokuto for this meeting?” I quirked my eyebrow up at him. I leaned against the side of the vending machine with my arms lazily crossed over my old Nekoma dance team shirt; my denim pants glowed with the backlight of the soda machine. “I remembered you guys accidentally switched phones, but you sent me a message considering the time stamp, to meet you here. So, what did you want to talk abo--mmph!?”

Kuroo had this overtly confident look in his eyes before he leaned into my personal space for the second time that day, he kissed me. This time, I was a bit more prepared. Upon impact, I screwed my eyes shut. I didn’t think anyone would of came out of their rooms considering how late it was, so all I could do was wrap my arms around his broad shoulders and pull his body closer to me.

There was this feeling of being warmed up like a hot tea being served to you on a cold night when Kuroo placed a hand on my cheek; the pad of his calloused fingers traced the features of my face. This kiss had a meaning: there was a longing behind the way his lips melded onto mine. Apparently, Kuroo’s mouth seemed to be made of magnets, finding my own again like this afternoon. His kisses were curiously asking me questions like what do I see in him and why did he wait so long to kiss me like this? It was probably his dumb late realization of having a crush on me that drove him to kiss me this afternoon, the same logic behind now. I pulled away first this time, studying his facial features. His eyes slowly opened to reveal a slight dilation in his pupils. Kuroo was indeed falling for me every second we were in this position. I ran my hands through his now dampened hair, causing his once rooster like hair-do to be done again.

“Shut up and let me kiss you kitty-Kat,” Kuroo whispered to me when he rested his forehead against mine. The faint smell of bubblegum flavored toothpaste he used intoxicated my already quivering lips.

“Please.” One world was all I had to say right before a hand of mine gripped the collar of his ebony shirt downward. I had a small smile grace my lips before I let my lips smack against his first. This time it wasn’t a just a light peck; instead I mustered every ounce of what I thought was a one-sided crush emotion into every second I had with him alone against the vending machine. It seemed like whatever emotions we had toward each other was masked in our moment of a coup de tonnerre. Electricity was coursing through our veins, but we wanted to keep this intense moment going for as long as needed. I let held on to him for a few more seconds before his hand was lost in a fist full of my mane.

Then, I felt the heat of Kuroo’s hand leave my face to rest comfortably against my waist. That was until I released his shirt from my hold, only to grip his shoulders. In one efficient move, I twisted his body until his back was against the wall, pinning him there. I swallowed his laughter when I ran my tongue over his mouth begging for entry. He didn’t make me wait long because I don’t think he minded one bloody bit since he continued to keep extending this passion-fueled moment for as long as we could. We were too proud to let the other withdraw first considering whatever this was, we needed to keep being locked in a tight embrace. Funnily enough, when I felt him nip the corner of my mouth in jest, but I had to pull away from him before we got too carried away during “quiet hours.” I pressed a finger to his pursed lips before speaking in a hushed tone. Our breathing was a bit ragged, but considering the shit-eating grins on our faces strewn across our faces made the other feel a bit more confident.

“Your kisses are just as enigmatic as I thought,” I told him, resting my head against his chest. His hands remained wrapped around my waist gently. I patted his upper arms as a sign to let me go, even though I know he didn’t want to. Instead he pulled me closer.

“Yours leave me wanting more,” he whispered in my hair. He continued to press open mouth kisses against my neck, his nose brushing against the warmest part of my neck behind my ear. This sent shivers down my spine and he knew it. There was going to eventually be a lover’s bite there if I didn’t stop him by reminding him we have to wake up early again tomorrow.

“What if I don’t want you to go?” Kuroo’s voice had an inkling of a disappointed pout. I raised a hand to cup his cheek, explaining if he didn’t want me to leave his side after this training camp was over, he’d have to take me out a proper date to which he sighed before burying his head against the crook of the other side of my neck. I patted the back of his head when he asked what I was doing on a Saturday night two weeks from the end of camp.

“Apparently, I’m going on a date with you?” was my reply before I placed both of my hands on his face to make him look at me. I smiled softly when I kissed his cheek. I bid the raven haired cat captain good bye before we both began walking back to our respective dorms. When I looked over my shoulder, Kuroo bit his bottom lip at me; it was a cute emotion, but I knew he’d want more lf whatever this was going to be whether it was a relationship or a fling. The choice was up to him, and honestly, I am hoping for the first option. I’m sure his heart was telling him that too. I took my phone out once I had tucked myself cozily in my sleeping bag bed and sent a text:

(Incoming message below)

#haikyu!! fiction #kuroo x 1st person pov #kuroo & confessions

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spideyy-girl · 5 years ago

Text

Bulletproof ~ Steve Harrington

Summary: Y/N, a super individual like Eleven, and Steve are captured and interrogated by the Russian soldiers who are working under Starcourt mall and have to find a way to escape before they get killed by the commies…

Fandom: Stranger Things (3)

Warnings: swearing, torture, getting shot, and reader and steve being high as fuck lmao

Word Count: 3223 (9 pages)

A/N: so this was supposed to be uploaded like a week ago but if you follow me you might know that I’ve been having problems with the tag system, and my works never show up on the search engine, so sorry it’s so late! My school starts next Wednesday so updates might be a little slower (or maybe even a little faster) but I still have a Richie headcanon on the way!

~~~

Y/N had no idea how on earth she got herself in this situation.

When her younger friend Dustin told her and Steve Harrington, a close friend of theirs and Y/N’s sort of giant crush, about a secret spy code he had picked up from his homemade radio tower, she was intrigued, to say the least. And you know what they say: curiosity killed the cat. And it sure as hell seemed like she was gonna die, but she didn’t think her life would end tied up to said ice-cream slinger from before while being interrogated by a bunch of evil Communists in a secret Russian lair under the mall where he worked and she visited regularly.

It had been hours, and Y/N continued to scream for help, trying to get anyone’s attention so she and Steve could escape the insane hellhole they got themselves stuck in. Steve grumbled, the loud voice of the girl tied up behind him making his head pound harder and he felt like his ears were about to bleed from all of the noise she was making.

“Hey, could you please stop yelling?” Steve almost whispered, but Y/N still heard it clear as day in the small silent room. She tried to turn around to face him but soon remembered that she was strapped to a chair, so she leaned her head on his shoulder instead.

“Steve? Oh my god, hey. Are-are you okay?” Y/n said, feeling a tsunami of relief hit her. For a while, she truly thought he had gone and died on her. Steve chuckled at her and leaned his head on hers to give her a sense of comfort.

“My ears are ringing and I can’t really breathe, I feel like my eyeballs are about to pop out of my skull, but other than that I’m doing pretty good,” Steve mumbles to her. She couldn’t help but giggle, Steve always knew how to make even the worst situations just a bit more bearable with his humour.

“Well, you don’t look it, my friend,” she pokes back at him. He nudges her with his head, his long hair tickling her cheek in the process.

“Geez, that one hurt, L/N,” he says back, trying to keep the girl’s mind off of the current dilemma they’re in for just a bit. He knew that she gets stressed and scared easily, due to her past trauma at the lab. It made him feel good that he could take that away from her. He tried to rip off the tape that was holding his wrists together, but it wouldn’t seem to budge. “Hey, think your mind tricks could help get us out of these chairs?”

Y/N sighed and raised her head, shaking it. “Can’t move things with my mind like El, remember?” She said, and Steve let out a small “oh” and nodded in understanding. Y/N’s powers we’re slightly different than Eleven’s, where El’s powers consisted more of telekinesis- or moving things with her mind, Y/N’s was more focused on telepathy, or mind manipulation. “So unless I can get into their heads and convince them to let us go, there’s not much I can do…” She trails off, wondering if even that would work considering what the officer said earlier.

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Steve reassured, leaning his head back onto her shoulder. “Besides, I think that could work. Do you think you could, like, get in there?” Y/N laughed slightly, but still felt nervous.

“I-I don’t know if I want to,” she tried to joke, letting out another dry laugh that sounded more uncomfortable. “But, I’m not sure. They already saw the number. They, um, t-they know who I am, Steve,” Y/N’s voice quivered, but she tried to keep herself calm, not wanting to show Steve how scared she really was.

Steve felt his body stiffen, not wanting to think about what those Russian soldiers might do to her, what they might use her for if they know about her abilities. He felt the palms of his hands start to dampen, and he tried just a little harder to pull himself from the belts that kept his wrists held to the arms of the chair he sat in. He let out an unsteady breath, not sure if his next words would be true, but he continued anyway. “Nothing will happen to you, okay? I promise; I swear on my life. We’re both gonna get out of here, alive, and we’re gonna be okay. I promise they won’t hurt you, they’d have to kill me first before they even touch you.” He said boldly, picking his words carefully, but also just spewing any positive things that came to mind. Y/N smiled at Steve, thankful that he was showing how much he cared for her, but his last sentence did admittingly make her uneasy.

“Thanks, Stevey,” she whispered back, and before they could continue to try and hatch up an escape plan, there was a loud buzzing sound that rang through the room before the Russian soldiers and the alleged ‘doctor’ strolled through the heavy metal door. The comrade made eye contact with Y/N, since she was the one facing the door, and gave her a disgusting smirk that made her squirm in her seat. As he moved around her to see Steve, he brushed his hand over her shoulder, making her retract from the contact immediately.

“I see your little boyfriend has finally decided to wake from his beauty sleep and join us,” he said as he faced Steve, the teenage boy giving him a dirty look in return. The officer chuckled, leaning closer to whisper in his ear. “Good thing you did, little boy, or I might’ve taken your girl from you and used her myself.” Steve felt every muscle in his body tense up at just those words.

“Fuck off,” he spat at the officer. “If you touch a single fucking hair on her body, I swear to god I will-” Steve cut himself off as he saw the drill powered by some kind of blue serum the doctor held, his eyes widened. He looked between the machine and the comrade, who’s smirk grew.

“Try telling the truth this time, yes?” He suggested, his hand reaching up to play with Steve’s hair, twirling it around a gloved finger. “It will make your visit with Dr. Zharkov less painful, for the both of you.” The doctor comes closer to Steve as the machine starts whirring.

“Hey, hey! What do you think you’re doing? AH!” Steve yells as the drill is injected into his neck. Y/N is kicking around in her chair, screaming at the doctor to stop and leave him alone. The Russian officer came up to her and stared at her, a creepy smile on his face as he caressed her cheek, Y/N leaning away from the unwanted touch.

“Don’t worry, little slut,” he said to her, smiling wickedly. “You’re next.” And with that, he slapped her harshly, the glove making a sharp noise against her cheek which echoed around the room as he left, the door locking behind him. She heard Steve’s screaming stop and soon the injection was put into her own neck.

~~~

Y/N’s head rested against Steve’s, trying her hardest not to let her sleep deprivation get the best of her, as it didn’t seem like the best moment to take a quick nap. She put her head back on Steve’s shoulder and nuzzled her nose into the crook of his neck, to which he giggled.

“That-that tickles a little,” Steve giggled. Y/N let out a smile and laughed along, doing it a little more before stopping again and closing her eyes. A little rest wouldn’t hurt, right? Luckily, the drugs hadn’t hit her as hard as they did with Steve since she was used to similar types of torture back when she was trained in the lab. Steve claimed he didn’t feel anything either, but she could tell something was definitely wrong with him, and even she herself felt off.

“I mean, I feel fine!” Steve exclaimed, accidentally bonking his head against the back of Y/N’s. “Oop, sorry. But I think these morons messed up the drug!” Y/N couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips.

“Haha, yeah, stupid morons can’t even drug us!” She said happily, still laughing as her head lolled on top of Steve’s shoulder. Steve laughed along with her, continuing to mock the Commies.

“Hey morons! Morons! Woah-oh!” He yelled as he continued to laugh, Y/N trying to hold back her own giggles but of course, didn’t succeed.

“There is definitely something wrong with us,” she said with another small giggle and Steve nodded.

“Yup, something’s wrong,” he agreed. Then the door buzzed, indicating that the Russian officer was once again entering the room, accompanied by his doctor friend, who was pulling out very sharp and not very doctor-like tools from his lab coat. Y/N stared at him wide-eyed, watching his movements as the officer went back to face Steve, who was biting his lip to try and keep himself from laughing.

“Let’s try this again, yes?” his voice comes out through his thick accent, and Y/N felt Steve nod slightly. The comrade came closer and looked at the boy dead in the eye. “Who do you work for?” he snarled out and Y/N felt herself holding her breath to try and keep herself from losing it, whether that meant a laughing fit or a mental breakdown, she didn’t quite know yet.

“Scoops. Scoops Ahoy,” Steve replied as he chuckled. Y/N found his comment wildly amusing and started wheezing as she threw her head back and hit Steve’s, but he was also too busy laughing to realize. The Russian looks at the teenage girl who was still giggling and red in the face, thinking of what he might have to do to her.

“How did you find us?” He asked, his eyes not averting from the girl who’s back was facing towards him, but the question was still directed at Steve. The boy tried to keep a straight face as he answered, but still to no avail.

“Oh, totally by accident,” Steve said and Y/N started cackling, kicking her feet as her body fell forward and tears started to form in her eyes. The comrade looks back at the doctor and speaks something in Russian that they couldn’t understand. Then the doctor pulled out a pair of plyers and walked towards the pair, the other one nodding his head towards Steve. “What is that shiny little toy you got there?” Steve laughed as the doctor crouched in front of him and went to grab one of Steve’s fingernails with the tool, to which Steve’s smile finally dropped and he started to scream in protest.

“There was a code! We heard a code!” Y/N said when she heard Steve starting to go crazy. The doctor pulled the plyers away and the comrade made his way to stand in front of Y/N now, glaring at her. When he questioned what code she began to giggle again, and honestly that sound alone made Steve forget about his fingernail almost being pulled off. “You know, 'the silver cat feeds, when blue meets yellow in the west, blah blah blah. You broadcast that dumb shit all over town, and we picked it up on our little toy radio, and we cracked it in a day! A fucking day!” She laughed again as she looked up at the officer, who was snarling down at her.

“Who is we? Who else knows we are here?” He demanded, and Steve turned his head a little to talk, much to Y/N trying to tell him to stop.

“Well, uh, Dustin knows we’re here. Dustin Henderson?” Steve said as he started laughing again and Y/N leaned on his shoulder, still giggling as well as he continued. “Yeah, curly hair, small, kind of like a fro. He’s got great hair.” Steve tried looking back at Y/N and she made sounds of agreement with his descriptions.

“Dustin Henderson? Where is he?” He asked Steve, and Steve smirked at him.

“Oh they’re long gone, you big asshole!” He giggled. “And he’s probably calling Hopper, and Hopper is probably calling the US cavalry. They’re gonna come in here commando-style, guns-a-blazing, and kick your sorry asses back to Russia. You'r4e gonna be two pieces of toast.” And Steve lost it after finishing his statement, leaning forward as he wheezed, Y/N leaning back with him as she did the same. And before the comrade could say anything else, an alarm blasts through the air, just on time.

The Russian comrade jolted out of the room to see what the hell had happened while the doctor stayed to keep a watch on the drugged pair of teenagers. Y/N saw this as a perfect opportunity to try and escape. Steve nudged her, trying to silently tell her to use whatever powers she can to get them out of their current situation.

“Um, excuse me, kind sir?” Y/N caught his attention and giggled. The doctor looked at her confused, she could tell he obviously didn’t understand what she was saying but continued. “You wouldn’t mind helping a poor girl like me out, would you?” She flashed him a charming smile and as soon as she locked their gaze her face went straight and she tried to push whatever was in her system aside to concentrate. The doctor fell into a state of oblivion and Y/N giggled a bit, happy that it was working. “It would be awfully nice of you to let us go.” She said, and with that, he walked slowly towards them and unbuckled the belts.

Y/N was so surprised it actually worked so well that she forgot that she was manipulating someone and he fell out. But before he could make a move to get them back, Steve slipped out of his restraints and hit him with the chair, knocking him unconscious. Y/N giggled and clapped as Steve helped her get out of her own chair. “Gotta say, Harrington, that was the hottest shit I’ve ever seen,” she giggled and so did he. He grabbed her face and squished her cheeks.

“No, YOU’RE the hottest thing I’ve ever seen!” he replied quite loudly and they both laughed. Steve grabbed Y/N’s hand and dragged her towards the door. “Let’s get out of here finally!” He said and the girl squealed in excitement as they began to aimlessly run down the hallway. And as you could’ve probably guessed, that was not the best plan.

As they ran down one of the endlessly long hallway, looking for the storage room elevator, they heard a strong voice come down the other side of the hallway in what was presumably Russian, and the sound of a gun cocking. Y/N and Steve looked back and their eyes blew wide as they saw the giant riffle pointed towards them and two more officers joined his side and did the same thing.

“Oh shit! OH, SHIT!” Steve said as he tugged her hand and tried to get Y/N to run along with her. “Y/N, come on! We seriously got to go! Hey, what are you doing?!” They heard the ringing sound of gunshots fly through the air and it was as if everything was going in slow motion. Steve took Y/N’s hand and dragged her into a hallway going a different direction but it was too late, and Y/N had wedged herself between the bullets and Steve.

Steve caught her as she fell, holding her ribs where the bullets had made contact. He felt almost completely sober as he saw the girl squeezing her eyes shut in pain, groaning. Her breathing was heavy and Steve pulled her into a clear room and locked all the doors, rushing over to her and putting her head on his lap, trying to keep himself from crying.

“Oh god, baby, I’m so sorry,” he whispered as he pet her hair. She shook her head, trying to get herself to make words but was still in shock. “No no no no, this wasn’t supposed to happen, oh god, oh shit, I’m sorry I’m so so sorry.” At this point he couldn’t help the water escaping his eyes.

“Steve,” she said as she grabbed him hand. He began to sob as he looked at her and squeezed her hand, using his other hand to push hair away from her face. “Steve, hey, it’s okay.”

“No no it’s not okay! What were you thinking?” He screamed at her, his tears making his vision blurry. “You-you just got shot! You were shot! Please, you can’t die on me, not here.” he continued to ramble so much that he was completely distracted to the lack of blood on the floor.

“Steve, listen to me,” she said a bit more sternly. But Steve just shook his head.

“No, Y/N, you have to listen, okay? You’re gonna be fine. I promised myself that I wouldn’t let anything happen to you as long as I was alive, so I’m gonna make sure we get out. Just please don’t die, Y/N stay with me-”

“Steve!” She shouted as she reached up and grabbed his face. He opened his eyes and wiped his tears to meet her gaze. She looked at him with her eyebrows furrowed and laughed at him, pushing his hair from his face. He then slowly pushed his gaze to her abdomen, which seemed to be fine, as if nothing happened. She saw his gaze shift and lifted her shirt to show where the bullets had hit her had only left a couple of bruises.

Steve gasped as he looked between the purple marks to her beautiful Y/E/C eyes, and smiled, still feeling shocked. “Holy fuck. You-you’re, like, you’re fucking bulletproof! Holy shit!” He smiled at her and she smiled back, nodding excitedly. He felt his laugh die down as he continued to stare at her, a small smile still prominent on his face. “I love you, you know that?”

Y/N was taken aback by his words but smiled back sweetly once she processed the situation and kissed his cheek, pressing her forehead against his. “I sorta love you too,” she whispered. The pair pulled back to look at each other again and leaned forward, their lips brushing against one another. But before they could connect, yelling and gunshots were heard from just outside and they shared looks.

“Maybe we should save this for later and get out of here first,” Steve suggested and Y/N nodded, taking a hand he offered to her as they both got up.

“Yup, good plan,” she agreed and they unlocked the door and prepped themselves to start running. But before they went out, Y/N grabbed Steve’s face and quickly pecked him on the lips. “Just for good luck.” Steve swore he never smiled wider as she winked at him and opened the door for them to escape.

~~~

TAGS:

Permanent: @phonegalhelp @caswinchester2000

Steve Harrington: @irreplaceable-ecstasy @kiara-uwu @layxbubbly @pvachyy

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #st3 #steve the hair harrington #imagine #011 #steve harrington x super!reader

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gryffindorcls · 6 years ago

Text

Please Tell Me I’m Awake Right Now

(Part 11)

Adrien left shortly after Marinette started emptying the contents of her closet onto the floor. It had barely registered in her mind what was happening when he walked over, kissed her on the cheek, transformed, and bounded off into the night.

Marinette stood in the middle of her mess and panicked. She needed help. So, she pulled out her phone and frantically texted Alya.

Marinette- OMG ALYA

Alya- Well, well, well…

Alya- The princess is back from her date.

Marinette- I need your help.

Alya- Do I need to kick sunshine’s butt?

Marinette- What?

Marinette- No

Alya- Good

Alya- What do you need help with?

Marinette- I got invited to a really big Gabriel event, and I have to go to Adrien’s house to pick out a dress tomorrow.

Alya- The princess got invited to a ball? How romantic.

Marinette- Alya! This is serious!

Alya- I’m still not seeing where you need my help.

Marinette- I have to go to brunch before I pick out the dress.

Alya- ...and that’s a problem because…

Marinette- I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO WEAR!

Alya- lol

Alya- Only you would have that problem.

Alya- You have the most clothes out of anyone I know.

Marinette- He’s a designer!

Alya- So. You’re a designer.

Marinette- IT’S NOT THE SAME

Alya- Chill, girl.

Alya- Wear the green one that you made.

Alya- That way you’ll match sunshine’s eyes. ;)

Marinette- Yeah, that’s actually good. Thanks!

Alya- You are welcome. Now...GO TO BED.

Marinette- lol

Marinette- Goodnight, bestie.

Alya- Night, girl!

Marinette grabbed the green sundress from one of the many piles on her floor. It was a clean-cut, a-line with a thick black stripe at the bottom. Around the waist sat a simple black ribbon that fashioned into a bow.

She put on the dress and examined herself in the mirror. Marinette turned and twirled, but she still felt uneasy.

“You look so pretty in that one, Marinette!” Tikki noted sweetly.

“Thanks, but I don’t know. Is it enough?” Marinette shot her Kwami a worried glance.

“Why don’t you ask Adrien?”

“Good idea, Tikki!”

Marinette stood in front of the mirror and snapped a picture of her outfit. When she was satisfied with the clarity of the image, she reopened the texting app and clicked on Adrien’s name.

Marinette- Are you still awake?

Adrien- Hey there, beautiful! Miss me already?

Marinette- I need your help.

Adrien- What’s wrong?

Adrien- Do you need me to come back over? I can be there in 5 minutes.

She mentally chastised herself. “First, I freak out Alya, and now Adrien. I really need to work on my word choice in texts. I probably gave him a heart attack.”

Marinette began composing her response when a rapid series of messages bombarded her notifications.

Adrien- You’re not answering.

Adrien- Are you okay?

Adrien- Marinette?

Adrien- Hold on. I’m coming back.

Marinette- NO

Marinette- Don’t. Please, I’m fine.

Marinette- However, I do appreciate the concern, kitty. :)

Adrien- Thank God.

Adrien- Sorry. I guess I just get worried easily.

Adrien- Okay...what do you need help with?

She attached the picture of her to a text and pressed send.

Marinette- Does this look okay for tomorrow?

Adrien- My goodness…

Adrien- ...you are stunning.

Marinette- Thanks, but does the dress look okay?

Marinette- I want to look good for brunch.

Marinette- I’m just not sure.

Marinette- Yeah...I’ll just try something else.

She tossed her phone onto the chaise and began rummaging through another pile on the floor. Her ringtone pierced the quiet as she found another dress to try on.

Marinette ran to her phone and looked at the name on the screen. Adrien was FaceTiming her.

She picked up the call. Marinette was greeted by an Adrien with messy hair, a gray t-shirt, and black, square-rimmed glasses. His head was resting on a fluffy, white pillow, and he was staring at her with a sleepy smile.

“I didn’t know you had glasses!” Marinette said excitedly.

Adrien scrunched his face. “Yeah...they’re new. I got my eyes tested a few weeks ago, and it turns out that...just like my dad...I’m a little far sighted. They arrived the other day. Of course, father insisted on getting designer, so they took longer to come in the mail. I wear them to read and do my homework. I just finished some Chinese drills, and I didn’t take them off. Sorry.”

Marinette smirked. “Why are you apologizing? They make you look kind of hot.”

He turned on his side, propped his head on his hand, and wiggled his eyebrows. “Only ‘kind of hot’?”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head, Mr. Model, but yes, I do find you conventionally attractive.”

“Well, if that’s the case, then I have absolutely no problem telling my girlfriend that she is going to be beautiful and/or drop-dead gorgeous in anything that she puts on. She also needs to stop worrying about looking good enough because she’s already wonderful without the perfect outfit. I say this as one attractive person to another.”

“I just want to make a good impression.”

“He’s already met you before.”

“Yeah, but not as your girlfriend.”

“He’s never had anything bad to say about you in the past. Trust me...if he didn’t like you, he would not be quiet about it. He HATES Nino. My best friend is not even allowed in the house. My dad actually invited you over, AND it was his idea. He doesn’t hate you.”

“Yet…”

“Marinette...breathe. I will be next to you the whole time. Everything will be okay. I love you, and I will never let anything happen to you.”

She closed her eyes and allowed the gentleness of his voice to soothe her anxiety. It was like listening to a hug. She could almost feel the comforting touch of his strong arms embracing her.

“Try to get some sleep, bugaboo,” he suggested, “It’s been a long day. On top of everything that happened in our civilian lives, we had to battle an Akuma. You must be exhausted. Just think, before you know it, I will be there to come and pick you up in the morning.”

Marinette hung her head. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I must be keeping you awake, as well. You probably want to get to sleep.”

“Talking with you is always time well spent. You are welcome to call me whenever...day or night.”

“Why are you so amazing?”

“Caring for someone as incredible as you comes easily.”

Marinette blushed. She squeaked and dropped her phone onto the chaise. Muffled laughter could be heard emanating from the fallen device.

She picked up the phone and shot Adrien the grumpiest look she could muster. “Hey!”

“I’m sorry, Princess, but you are just too adorable. But seriously...go to sleep, Marinette. You will feel better about all this in the morning.”

Marinette’s expression softened into a smile. “Okay. BUT...before we stop talking...you’re going to wear those glasses more often right?”

“Uhm...yes? I’ll wear them when I need them.”

“Good. I want to see those in person.”

Adrien chuckled and yawned. “Whatever you want, my lady.”

“Goodnight, Chaton.”

“Goodnight. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Marinette pressed the end call button and sighed.

Tikki zoomed over to her chosen. “Adrien is right, Marinette. You should go to sleep.”

Marinette smiled. “Yeah. Let’s go to bed.”

She quickly tossed her clothes back into the closet and climbed into bed. The moment her head hit the pillow, she fell fast asleep.

***

Morning arrived quickly, and Marinette jumped out of bed at the first sound of her alarm. Usually, she would hit the snooze button multiple times before getting up, but today she was vibrating with excitement. Adrien had been right. She did feel much better after a good night’s sleep.

She quickly put on her green sundress and slipped on a pair of black flats. Marinette then pulled her hair into a low bun at the base of her hairline. She finished her look by applying light, natural make-up.

She stood confidently in front of the mirror and smiled.

“Today is going to be a good day,” she thought to herself, “You have an incredible boyfriend who loves you, and your favorite designer wants to have brunch with you. Then later today, you get to put on a beautiful dress and attend a REAL event in the fashion world. You are Ladybug. You are MARINETTE DUPAIN-CHENG. You are smart and confident.”

A soft knock sounded from the hatch to her room. Marinette spun around clumsily towards the noise and unceremoniously tripped on her own feet. She landed on the ground with a thud and a groan.

The trap door creaked open, revealing a wide-eyed Adrien.

“Is everything okay? I heard a…” he cut himself off when he saw Marinette getting up off the floor and smoothing down her dress.

“I’m fine,” she grumbled still fiddling with the hem of her skirt.

Adrien walked into the room and over to Marinette. He pulled her into his arms and looked her in the eyes.

“Did you hurt yourself?” he asked softly.

Marinette scoffed. “No more than usual.”

Adrien leaned in and placed a tender peck on her lips. “Send this kiss to where it needs to go.”

“Hmmmm,” Marinette said with a grin, “I actually think it hurts a little bit more than I initially thought. I think I might need more kisses.”

“Well, if my Princess requires assistance, who am I to refuse?” Adrien wiggled his eyebrows.

His hands moved to the sides of her face as Marinette closed the gap. Adrien left a lingering kiss on her lips. Marinette felt her toes curl and her leg lift into the air as she deepened the kiss.

Adrien was the first to pull away. “Any better, my lady?”

Marinette giggled. “That’ll do for now, kitty.”

He tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear and bit his lip. He backed away, and his eyes scanned her outfit.

“Have I told you that you look beautiful today?” he remarked.

“No, you’re slacking,” Marinette teased.

“How careless of me.”

“I guess you’ll just have to make it up to me somehow.”

“And...pray tell...how exactly would I do that?”

“ Hmmmm...maybe you should put on those glasses for me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, and then…”

Plagg zipped over and hovered between the couple before they were able to continue their flirting session. “As sickeningly adorable as this exchange is, may I remind you that your father is expecting you in 20 minutes.”

“Did...did you just show genuine concern?” Adrien asked, stifling back laughter.

“No...I just...no.” Plagg crossed his arms and turned away from his chosen.

“I love you, too, Plagg.” Adrien used his finger to pet in between his Kwami’s ears. He then turned to Marinette. “He’s right. We really do need to get going.”

She hesitated. “Are you sure this dress looks good enough?”

Adrien smiled. “Princess, the word ‘good’ will never be enough to describe you. It’s beautiful. You’re stunning.”

Marinette blushed and covered her mouth with her hands. Adrien removed one of the hands from her face and gently coaxed her towards the hatch.

“Oh, wait!” She ran back to her desk and grabbed her sketchbook. “I wanted to bring my designs with me...or do you think it’s too much?”

“My love, that sounds perfect. It’s a wonderful idea. Now, come...please...we really have to go,” Adrien shot her a pleading look.

The duo bounded down the stairs, out of the apartment, and into the bakery.

“Are you two kids headed off now?” Tom asked with a smile.

“Yes, papa. I’ll see you a little later when I come back to get ready before the gala,” Marinette said quickly, hugging her father goodbye.

Sabine walked in from the kitchen and handed Adrien a large box of pastries. “These are for you to share with your father, Adrien. You two have fun!”

“Thank you, Mrs. Cheng,” Adrien replied politely.

Once they were out of the bakery, they hopped into the back of his car. They soon reached the front gates of the Agreste Mansion. The car came to a stop, and Adrien ran to the other side of the vehicle to open Marinette’s door. He extended his arm for her to take, and he guided her into his house. Inside, they were greeted by the sight of Gabriel Agreste waiting for them on the stairs in the foyer.

“Hello, father.” Adrien took Marinette’s hand in his own.

“Good morning, Adrien, and welcome, Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng,” Gabriel said with a subtle nod.

“Thank you for having me, Monsieur Agreste, and please...call me Marinette,” she remarked sweetly. Marinette smiled and clutched her sketchbook close to her chest.

Gabriel’s eyes tracked the movement of Marinette’s arm. “I’m glad you could join us, Marinette.”

“Father,” Adrien began, “Marinette’s parents sent us with some pastries from their bakery.”

“That’s very considerate of them. Please send my thanks to your family, Marinette,” Gabriel paused for a moment, “However, I must ask...what kind of book is that in your hand?”

Marinette glanced nervously at Adrien. He squeezed her hand reassuringly and smiled while mouthing the words “it’s okay”.

She stood up straight and took a deep breath. “I brought my designs with me today, sir.”

Gabriel smiled. “That’s a bold move. It shows drive and ambition, both of which are necessities in the fashion world. Is it right of me to presume that it is your goal to become a designer?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Very good. I would like to see your sketches over brunch. My intern recruiter spoke very highly of the design she saw yesterday.”

“Wow...thank you, Monsieur Agreste.”

“Please, follow me.”

Adrien continued to hold Marinette’s hand as they walked behind Gabriel.

“I told you it would be okay,” Adrien whispered in her ear, “I’m not going to leave you.”

She smiled and nuzzled her head into his shoulder. He returned her gesture by lightly kissing the top of her head.

As Adrien went to pull out Marinette’s chair at his end of the table, his father cleared his throat. “Marinette, please come sit next to me so we can go over your designs.”

Marinette began walking away from Adrien, and Gabriel sighed. “Son, why are you still standing at the other end of the table. I should think that you would want to sit next to your girlfriend.”

Adrien perked up. “Yes, sir!”

He swiftly moved to the seat next to Marinette’s, sat down, and laced his fingers around hers. Under the table, she brought their hands to rest on her thigh, and she covered them with her other hand. She then turned her head towards him and was met with the softest expression she had ever seen on Adrien’s face.

His eyes conveyed a thousand declarations of love. Her heart clenched in her chest as the rest of her melted away under his gaze. He seemed to drink in her essence. It was as if being her in her presence was as necessary as water or air. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine that someone would look at her like that. This boy was her forever...and she was never going to let him go.

“Marinette,” Gabriel’s voice snapped her out of her reverie, “talk to me about some of your designs before the food comes out.”

She placed her sketchbook on the table and flipped through several pages while explaining her ideas. Gabriel remained silent and nodded periodically while she spoke. Adrien rested his hand on her shoulder helping her confidence to grow as she talked with his father.

When she reached the page that had the design she was currently wearing, Gabriel finally spoke. “Did you construct this dress on your own?”

“Yes, sir,” she replied, “I have a sewing machine and a dress form in my room.”

“You did an exceptional job for a novice. It’s clean and simple.”

“Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, Marinette. Your talent speaks for itself.”

“Still, sir, I appreciate you taking the time to look at my sketches.”

“I would be lying if I said that I didn’t have an ulterior motive for asking.”

Marinette paled. “Oh?”

Gabriel continued. “Yesterday when Noelle came into my office, she spoke to me about an idea she had about starting a junior internship program for younger students who were looking to study fashion in university. She talked to me about the merits of fostering the next generation and how aspiring designers like you would benefit from such a program. To her surprise, I agreed. When I was younger, my family did not support my passion. I created this company from nothing, and talent like yours should not be wasted scraping your way from the bottom. However, I wanted the opportunity to see your work for myself. I recalled your bowler hat design from last year, but that was only one example. I was going to ask you to bring your designs at another time, but you took the initiative to bring it with you. I wanted to know if you had a greater vision and if your designs showed versatility. Today, you have proven to me that you do.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Marinette tried to find the words to respond, but luckily Gabriel resumed speaking before she had the chance to say anything.

“I would like to offer you the opportunity to shadow Noelle this summer. Not only is she the intern recruiter for the company, but she is an incredibly competent designer. At Gabriel, we look for the best, and you have great potential, Marinette.”

Marinette’s breath hitched. “Monsieur Agreste, I would be honored. Thank you for the opportunity.”

Gabriel extended his hand to Marinette, and she shook it. “The pleasure is mine. I will have Adrien give Nathalie your contact information, and we will make arrangements for you to start sometime next week. I look forward to seeing what contributions you will make in the future. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I, unfortunately, must leave you two to finish brunch on your own.”

“Father,” Adrien called out, “will you be attending the gala this year, or will you be attending to something here?”

Gabriel paused for a moment. “I think the investors would be happy if I made an appearance this time. What do you think?”

“I think it would be good for the company if you came.”

“I agree. Astute observation, son.”

“Thank you, father.”

Gabriel started walking out of the room. He stopped in the entranceway and turned back towards the table.

“Adrien,” he began, “I’m happy to see that you found someone who is talented and driven.”

Before allowing his son to answer, Gabriel disappeared into the foyer. Once they were sure Adrien’s father was out of earshot, both teens breathed sighs of relief and began to laugh.

“I can’t believe that just happened!” Marinette exclaimed.

“I know, that was insane!” Adrien responded.

“What an incredible opportunity.”

“You deserve it.”

“Thank you, minou.”

“I am kind of disappointed that he didn’t tell you the best part though.”

Marinette gave him a confused look. “What are you talking about?”

Adrien slung his arm around Marinette and pulled her close. “Last night my father told me that he wanted me to start taking a more active role in the business side of Gabriel. He wanted me to spend time in the offices this summer learning from the executives there. So, it looks like we’ll be seeing each other a whole lot more over the next few months.”

“Really?”

“Really, Princess.”

“Why didn’t you mention this last night when you came over?”

Adrien’s hand moved to the back of his neck. “Well, my dad is always making me do stuff, and I didn’t think that it was all that important at the time.”

She kissed him on the cheek. “Anything that happens in your life is important to me, kitty. Never forget that.”

Marinette and Adrien finished their meal while chatting cheerfully and making plans for the upcoming weeks. The air around them pulsed with happiness and anticipation.

Brunch ended when Nathalie informed them that it was time for Marinette to pick out her gown for the evening.

“Adrien, you have a piano lesson, so Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng will be coming with me on her own,” Nathalie informed the two teens.

“Will you be okay?” Adrien asked Marinette.

“Yes, kitty. I’ll be fine. Besides, it’ll be more fun if you see me in my dress for the first time tonight. It will be a surprise!” she responded with a bright smile.

“Okay, my love,” he kissed her cheek, “I will see you later.”

When the pair finally separated, Marinette looked up at Nathalie who was attempting to maintain an emotionless facade. She was failing.

“Please come this way,” the assistant commanded with the ghost of a grin on her lips.

Marinette followed the assistant into a guest room on the second floor of the mansion. Inside were several racks of evening gowns, and (to her surprise) a familiar face.

“Monsieur Agreste just told me the wonderful news!” Noelle beamed, “I am so excited! We are going to have a wonderful time. I can’t wait to teach you everything!”

“Thank you so much for talking to him for me. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you!” Marinette said with joyful tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

“Oh, sweetie, you just keep being yourself. Watching someone like you become successful one day is all the thanks I need.”

“Still...thank you.”

Noelle walked over to Marinette and gave her a quick hug before returning to the racks. “Now, let’s get you dolled up for Agreste Jr. I’m going to guess that pink is your favorite color.”

Marinette nodded enthusiastically.

The designer picked a few pink dresses off the rack and turned back towards the excited teen. “That boy isn’t going to know what hit him when he sees you later tonight.”

<—Previous Next—>

AO3

Fanfiction.net

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Thank you to everyone who has been reading and following this story. You are all wonderful!

Also, thank you to those who have left comments and asks. They make my heart feel full, and it fuels my passion to keep writing! (That and I love talking with all of you!)

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#miraculous ladybug #miraculous #ml fanfiction #ml fanfic #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agresste #adrienette #adrien x marinette #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #Please Tell Me I'm Awake Right Now #part 11

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riverdalepoet · 6 years ago

Text

ALL I EVER WANTED (part 2)

PAIRINGS: Sweet Pea and OC (Emma Carter Wilson), Kevin and Fangs, Toni and Cheryl, Betty and Jughead

Warnings: language and suggestive themes

WORD COUNT: 3052

A/N: I own nothing.

The first few months after bringing Carter home were disastrous. Our tiny cottage, that barely managed to support the two of us, was bursting at the seams with our new addition. Piles of dirty burp rags and onesies threatened our sanity daily, no matter how many loads of laundry we battled. Nights of mindless shushing and swaying and begging our little boy to sleep for longer than twenty two seconds left us weary. But sweet gurgles and drooly grins from our son kept us going with dreamy smiles ever present on our faces.

Slowly, we find our flow. Out of the blue, Carter blesses us with a manageable sleeping schedule, giving us all the fuel we needed. The mountain of laundry becomes less intimidating, as our home adjusts to our new family of three.

Sweet Pea, notoriously recognized for being hard as stone, was a puddle of mush when it came to Carter. I spent much of my mornings, admiring them both as Pea has our little guy tucked carefully in his arms. Today is no exception. My place in the bed provides a picturesque view of my two guys cuddled up in the living room. My husband lays sprawled out on the couch in his sweats, with Carter curled up against his bare shoulder, both facing the television set. Sweets shared his love for Saturday morning Westerns from the very beginning with our baby. When I was pregnant, and getting kicked and attacked from the little boy inside, Pea would turn on Bonanza or whatever he could find, and Carter would calm down immediately, giving me instant relief.

“Listen here, little guy, if anyone ever tells you that John Wayne is overrated, you just hit them. No questions, just sock em right in the jaw. You don’t want to befriend anyone with those standards,” he spoke eagerly to a very attentive four month old. In response, Carter giggled and flailed his little fists, swiping Sweets in the process. Pea turned Carter around and lifted him in the air before peppering his cheeks with noisy kisses. “Easy now slugger, you don’t get to hit me. I’m on your side.”

I couldn’t stand it any longer, and pulled myself out of bed. I padded swiftly across the floor and stole my baby from Sweet Pea’s arms, twirling him around. “Are you fighting with Daddy already? Huh? Don’t worry, Mommy likes to fight him, too.”

“Mmm, yep. And that’s how you got here, buddy,” he responded, lifting himself off the couch to kiss the top of my head.

Carter gurgled happily from my arms, and I turned my attention back to my little dark haired, dark eyed clone of my husband. “Daddy thinks he’s funny.”

He laughed and slapped my butt before making his way to the kitchen to start the coffee pot. I grabbed the outfit I laid out for Carter and started to wrestle him into it. “Em?” Pea called

“Yeah?”

“What time is everybody coming over today?”

“Oh, well, Betty said she and Jones were going to come around three to help us set everything up.”

“Really?” he asked, reaching for two mugs and for my favorite creamer. “They don’t have to do that.”

I was having a hard time wrangling the wiggle worm into his little pants, but managed to reply. “Yeah well, it’s Betty. That’s kind of her thing.” He nods as he sets my cup on the table beside me. “Toni and Cheryl will be here at four, and the rest of them around five, I think. Oh, except Fangs. He text me this morning, and said he’d be a little late. You think he’ll bring Jonathan?”

“Oh Christ, I hope not. Didn’t you say Kevin was coming too?” He reached for the remote, and clicked off the t.v. before starting to fold the laundry.

“I mean, I invited him, obviously, but I honestly don’t know. I hope he does, I miss him. And he hasn’t met Carter yet.”

“Maybe he’ll show up. If not, we’ll hunt him down tomorrow. I know Betty will help us corner him.” He threw me a wink and a fresh bib from the pile of clothes. I fastened the bib and set Carter down gently in his swing so I could get a few things done to prepare for tonight’s dinner.

Sweet Pea may have marked our son with his love for older movies, but I passed something other than my fair complexion to him, as well. He loved my old records, and often fell asleep swinging happily along to Jimmy Reed. Hoping he would get a good nap in, I turned on the record player. Before “Ain’t That Loving You Baby” was over, he was out, and I breathed a sigh of relief, slipping off to take a shower while I could.

It wasn’t long before the door creaked open, and Sweet Pea slipped in behind me. “Can I help you?” I laugh when he yanks the bottle of shampoo out of my hands. “Yes, you can. Turn back around.”

“Truly, I don’t know why you insist on doing this these days. I can wash my own hair, you know.” I joked, but hoped that he wouldn’t stop massaging my scalp.

“Remember that time you had my baby?” He hummed, continuing to lather the shampoo.

He had me in such a trance, I had to remind myself to respond. “Oh yeah, vividly.”

“That’s why.” That was a good enough answer for me, so I shrugged, and let him continue. Much too soon, the water turned cold and the list of everything we needed to do popped back into my brain. Reluctantly, we dried off, got dressed, and started bustling around the house as quietly as possible.

Keeping the records playing as Carter slept worked wonders, buying us two hours of uninterrupted work. By the time, he started moving around I had the food prepped and ready to go. Sweet Pea had finished with the house, and had it smelling as fresh as lemons. However long that lasted was up to our son.

He played happily on his mat with a few of his favorite toys in front of him while we got ready. I had a hard time picking out what to wear. My post- baby body was nothing like it used to be, and none of my clothes looked right. I was starting to panic when Sweet Pea wrapped me up in his arms, and told me to stop. A few kisses and sexual innuendos later, and I was, surprisingly, feeling a little better. With his help, I finally settled on something that didn’t make me feel entirely uncomfortable. If Sweet Pea, had it his way, I’d walk around in one of his t-shirts 24/7, but he knew how important tonight was to me.

Feeling a little nervous, I laid back against the pillows and watched Sweets get dressed. The crinkle that formed between his eyebrows while he was trying to decide something always made me giggle. He wasn’t always the careful one. In high school, Sweet Pea was notorious for his short fuse and quick reflexes. As the years went on and a few bits of rage bit him in the ass, he mellowed out and learned something I never thought he would- patience. These days he’s very meticulous and intentional with each decision he makes, no matter how small. That’s not to say he’s no longer useful to the Serpents. Anything something needs to be handled, Sweet Pea is calculated and lethal in every situation.

Soon enough, there was steady knock on our front door. Sweet Pea pulled his shirt over his head and ushered our guests inside. Carter squealed when Betty scooped him up and bounced him around. Jughead handed me a bottle of wine before taking his usual seat on the couch. After Betty had her fill of cooing at Carter, she dropped him into Jughead’s reluctant arms and turned to me, clasping her hands together. “Where do you want me, Em?”

“I hate to spoil your fun, but I think we’ve just about got everything ready.” I looked around the kitchen and remembered, “Oh, we can go ahead and get the table set, and maybe plate some of the finger foods. I know our dudes are probably already starving.”

“Right,” she replied militantly, and went straight to work. I squeezed her into a one- armed hug when the work was done, and all that was left to do was relax and wait for people to arrive. “Thanks, Betts, I couldn’t have done this without you.” She smiled in response, and went to join the boys in the living room.

“Does anyone know if Kevin’s coming tonight,” I ask pointedly to Betty.

She hesitates, stealing a glance at her husband before answering, “Have you heard if Fangs is bringing Jonathan?”

“Unbelievable. He told you to check if the coast was clear, didn’t he?” She avoided my glare, picking at a loose thread on the hem of her skirt. “Okay, no, I don’t know. I have no earthly idea. I just know that I want Kevin here. I know he’s still upset, and I get that, but Carter is four months old. He hasn’t even tried to come meet him,” I huff, trying my hardest to let it go…and failing. “You know what- enough is enough! You tell Mr. Keller that if he doesn’t have both feet on my porch by 5:15 pm, I will come to his house, and I will drag him out by his teeth if I have to, got it? Fangs and Jonathan be damned.”

Jughead and Sweet Pea exchange nervous looks, but Betty nods and immediately types my message out to Kevin. Her phone dings in reply almost immediately, and she chuckled. “Done and done. He says he’s hopping in the shower now.”

Sweet Pea shakes his head and leaves to grab drinks for Jughead and himself. “If that one can’t light a fire under somebody and get them moving, nobody can. Freaking drill sergeant, I swear.”

Just as I wave my middle finger at him in retaliation, Cheryl and Toni walk in.

“Geez,” Toni laughs, “Parenthood has no peaceful effect on you two, does it?”

“No, no. We still fight like cats and dogs, it’s just now we do it with a baby on my boob or in my arms.” I smile and stand up to hug them both. “How was the trip?”

Cheryl sets a pile of presents on the table by the door, and gushes. “Tres bien, per usual. Now where’s our little nephew?” She looks around our living room before zeroing in on him bouncing on Jug’s knee.

Toni follows suit and crosses the floor to snatch Carter up. He grins as she holds him high, looking him over. “Well, aren’t you the spitting image of your bone-headed daddy.”

We both ignored Pea’s “I heard that” from the kitchen. I nodded in response, expecting as much. “It’s insane, right? They’re identical.”

“Wait until he pouts,” Sweets interrupts, pulling me to sit on his lap. “His bottom lip pokes out, and if you pay him attention right then, he throws a full on fit. That’s all his mama.”

I heave a sigh, and melt into his strong hold. “Why are you the way that you are? I earn a few laughs with my Office reference, and we all fall into comfortable conversation. I notice how eager and attentive Sweets and I both seem, and chalk it up to us both missing the excitement of adult conversations.

Soon enough, more people pile in. The buzz of friendly voices and the savory scent of our dinner that’s nearly done makes me smile. Having our friends here- basking in the cuteness that is Carter James, and filling every bit of our home and hearts makes me feel whole. I fight back the happy tears that the hormones are supplying, and go to open the door, when I hear a timid knock. As promised, Kevin Keller stands at my door with flowers in hand, and a guilty expression heavy on his brow. All my resolve melts at the sight of him, and I burst, pitifully, into tears.

Sweet Pea, not able to see who was standing on the other side of the screen door from his place on the chair, was on his feet in second flats. He hesitates, seeing Kevin scrambling to calm me down. Fighting every instinct I know he had, my husband merely crosses his arm, and fixes his hard stare on Kevin’s nervous face. Kevin merely nods at Sweet Pea, and ushers me out on the porch with him and into a chair.

“You’re mad at me,” he says softly after a few moments.

I choke out a small laugh through the tears and swallow the remaining sobs. “I’ve missed you…and I’m hormonal. So this isn’t all you, I promise.”

He leans back against the house, and stares out towards the road as I calm down. Kevin and I got really close when he and Fangs were together. Having boyfriends that were attached at the hip didn’t really leave us much of a choice. Kevin was there when Sweet Pea proposed, keeping my soon- to -be husband from hitting the bottle too heavy to fight his nerves. He was beside me at my wedding, managing, miraculously, to keep an unruly group of groomsmen in check. He was the third person we told when I got pregnant, and was just as excited as we were.

Sometime in my second trimester, he and Fangs decided to go their separate ways, and Kevin quit coming around. Shortly after the split, Fangs introduced us to Jonathan. I remember that day pretty vividly. Sweet Pea tried his best to diffuse the situation, knowing by my shaking leg that something was about to happen. I kept my composure, right until Jonathan mouthed off something about ‘that tragic ex of Fangs’’. I ignored the sharp hiss of Sweet Pea’s warning, and whirled around quickly.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” There was no stopping me. I let him have it, banned him from my home until he learned how to act like an adult, and even gave Fangs a good cuss-out by the time it was over. During my whole tirade, Sweet Pea sat at the kitchen table with wide eyes and his fist resting against his chin, knowing that it was better for all of us to let me get it all out. It took a few months for Fangs to come around after that. I regret nothing.

“I haven’t been doing so well, Em,” Kevin muttered, pulling me back from the flashback. “I know that’s no excuse, and I will do better. It’s just, I don’t know what to do at this point. I still feel so stuck.”

I took a few steadying breaths, and stood up to loop my arm through his. “I can’t tell you what you need to do. I can’t fix it for you, and I hate that, because I wish that I could. But what I can do is make sure you know that this house is open anytime you need it to be. I have a comfy sofa, a cuddly baby, plenty of comfort food, and a pot of coffee that can be ready in five minutes flat.”

He smiled, and ran his hand through his hair, “I like the sound of that.”

“I hoped you would say that. Now can we please go inside and eat?”

“Yes, let’s go, hot mama,” he chuckled and pulled me with him into my house. Carter and Kevin were fast friends, and they stayed glued together until dinner was ready. Around six, Fangs did show up, finally. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that Jonathan was not at his side, and pretended not to notice the bashful glances he threw at Kevin for the most of the night.

Our evening was winding down, our child was passed out, and our friends were slowly making their way out the door. I made sure to pack leftovers for those that thought that a burger from Pops was a home- cooked meal, and threw a few extra helpings in the bowl that would be leaving with Fangs. He reached over the counter to take it, but I quickly grabbed his hand, effectively catching his full attention. “Where’s Jonathan?”

He laughed nervously and shrugged, leaning against the cabinets, “Who knows, who cares.”

I quirked my eyebrow, considering what that might mean for a possible reconciliation with Kevin. “Noted… I packed enough food to feed you for two days. This is not to be eaten in one sitting, Franklin Fogarty, ok?” All he offered in response was a half- hearted ‘yeah- yeah’.

“Also, I saw you.” With that, I cleared the rest of the counter top, and breezed past him into the living room. He followed me, clearly caught off guard by my accusation.

“Saw me what?” I reached for the remote only to have it ripped from my hand by my leather clad pal.

“Well that was rude.” He pursed his lips and waited. I let his agitation stew before a small, mischievous grin spread across my face. “I saw you looking at Kevin.” To my surprise, he didn’t deny it. In fact, he provided no response except for a sly wink and a quick hug goodbye.

My mind was racing with the possibilities when Sweets dropped on the couch beside me, resting his feet on the coffee table, despite my constant begging for him not to do that. “Little man’s in bed. I don’t think he’ll be waking up too much tonight.”

I grinned, sleepily, and cuddled into my husband’s warm side. “Yeah, he’s all played out. We should have people over every night.” Sweet Pea placed a kiss on the top of my head and agreed. We fell asleep that way, not bothering to make the short journey to our bed. I was scared if I moved a muscle, I would disturb this incredible feeling of gratitude that was pulsing through my body.

I meant what I said wholeheartedly. If I had it my way, nights like these- gentle reminders that we were loved and in good company- would be plenty.

#sweet pea fanfiction #riverdale #fanfiction #sweet pea and oc #southside serpents #sweet pea imagine #all i ever wanted sweet pea and emma

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ascreamingstrawberry · 7 years ago

Text

Heat

Summary: Deceit’s room is just insanely hot, okay?

June 24th : Friendship, June 25th : Roceit, June 26th : Loceit, June 27th : DLAMP, June 28th : Patceit, June 29th : Anxceit, June 30th : FamILY

Pairings: None. Maybe Logince if you squint.

Word Count: 1,688

Warnings : Sympathetic Deceit. mentions of anxiety, swearing, feeling left out, blood, wounds

Notes : Leave a like, a reblog, message, and reply!

“What the fuck is that?” Virgil groaned, pulling out his earbud for like the third time in the last five minutes. There was a loud banging sound filling the whole house despite the fact he was pretty sure he’d been the only one home. Roman was supposed to be in the imagination, and Logan and Patton were helping Thomas, so who the fuck was making all that noise.

“FUCK.” The drilling stopped as a hissed scream replaced. The swig of slurs that came choursing outside of Virgil’s door only got louder until it kind of stopped near the bathroom and then got very quiet over the sound of running water.

Oh right, Deceit was here now.

It was weird to think about another former dark side living with light sides, but to be honest he’d missed him. Sure, taking over Patton had been over the line and when Virgil had gotten announced Deceit had said some very mean things, but Virgil had been the only one to ever see everything underneath all that. The tears in the other side’s eyes as Deceit told him he was worthless, knowing the lying side was either being completely factual or using projection to hide the truth. The truth that he’d miss Virgil, the only person he had to talk to. He could only imagine what it had been like in that part of the mindscape all alone, lying to yourself every day to make it seem like you’re okay.

Fuck, now Virgil was even getting kind of upset.

Might as well check on him, Virgil thought to himself, running quickly from his room to the door of the bathroom so he could catch Deceit in the act of whatever he was doing. When he whipped open the bathroom door, Deceit was holding a bleeding hand, and Virgil’s instincts kicked in, running over and sticking Deceit’s hand under cold water. The dark side hissed, but didn’t retract his hand.

“I’m fine.” Deceit said, while it was a lie, it was more of a lie to make Virgil think he was fine, which based on his appearance, he isn’t.

Deceit looks sleepless dressed in only a really long yellow tshirt that goes to his knees. His hair is sticking to his head as he sweats excessively, and his hand is still bleeding. Virgil reaches above them into the cupboard to grab a gauze pad, and covers Deceit’s skin, noticing the little whine that the other side tries to cover up. When he’s satisfied with his care, Virgil pats Deceit’s hand lightly and moves around him to turn off the faucet and Deceit leaves. Virgil follows him, just to see what he’s up to, and is surprised when the dark side lets him in.

“What were you even doing?” Virgil reaches down on the ground in front of him, picking up a drill gun only to notice the blood on the end of the drill bit, and drops it immediately to the ground. The other thing the notices is how hot it is in Deceit’s room. Granted Virgil’s room is naturally cold because it helps him relax and it is summer, but Deceit’s room feels like a sauna. “It’s so hot in here.”

“I know.” Deceit whines, almost like a child, and while not everything he says is lies, you can see how at this point, he just doesn’t have the effort to lie. “I was trying to put in an air conditioner and I had to go and screw it up like everything.”

“Hey!” Virgil held his hand out, and awkwardly put it back to his side. “Sorry, I guess Patton’s just got me conditioned to point out the negative self talk.”

Deceit laughed, though it wasn’t happy or full particularly, and he whined again, stomping his foot. “I can’t do anything, it’s too damn hot.”

“Just come to the living room.” Virgil said, opening Deceit’s door. “It’s the coolest room in the mindscape besides mine.”

“I’m-not” Deceit paused, all of sudden no longer looking as slumped as he was. Now he was standing like the other sides were used to seeing him, back straight with a growl set in his jaw. But Virgil knew different. “I’m totally allowed there, Virge.”

“Of course you are, you live here.” Virgil was in no mood for any of Deceit’s or the other’s crap, it was too hot in this room that Virgil’s hoodie was making him uncomfortable, and he was sure the other side would melt if he was in here for any longer. So he grabbed Deceit’s hand and pulled him out of his room and down the stairs, both sides visibly cooler as the living room seemed at least twenty degrees lower than Deceit’s room.

Virgil pulled him all the way to the couch though, sitting down next to him as he watched Deceit uncomfortably shift into a criss cross applesauce position where you could see the black shorts Deceit had on. Virgil snapped, changing into a black tank top with some rips in it and a pair of black shorts as well, and leaned back watching Deceit not move.

“No loser.” Virgil said, putting his hand in the middle of Deceit’s chest, and pushing him back until he laid down. “Sleep, you need it.”

“But-” Virgil shushed him.

“I’ll keep look out.” Virgil interrupted and he watched on Deceit’s face the decision being made to laid down with his feet out, and his head next to Virgil’s arm.

“Not that you need it.” Virgil mumbled to himself as he set his alarm for two hours ahead of now, as soon as he heard the soft sigh that meant Deceit had fallen asleep. He’d gotten used to slipping out after the sound, the other side was more of an insomniac than he was, but now Virgil pulled him a little closer, settling down next to him and shutting his eyes.

When he came to, Deceit was wiggling a little bit, probably soon to waking up himself, and Virgil did a quick glance around. Logan was in the chair across from them reading, Roman was on the ground in a tank top that showed the bandage that must have just gotten wrapped around his shoulder, and the noise behind the couch must have been Patton.

“Hey Pat?” Virgil caught the father figure as he was placing a plate of two popsicles on the table in front of him.

“Yeah kiddo?” Patton asked, noticing the way Deceit’s eyes opened quickly and shut again just as fast, only for Virgil to wrap his arms around the other side’s shoulders a little tighter.

“Can we put an air conditioner in Deceit’s room?” Virgil said.

“Sure thing, kiddos.” Patton reached down to ruffle Virgil’s hair, and Deceit’s for good measure, definitely not missing the little hum coming from the youngest sides as he did so. “Eat up, it’s super hot.”

“Patton, grab a glass of water, will you?” Logan replied, neither noticing the way he closed his book as Virgil pushed Deceit up, reaching down to grab two of the popsicles. Logan stood up and moved to the other side of the couch as Virgil handed Deceit one, and he felt the lying side tense up. “Deceit?”

“Mhm?” Deceit mumbled, taking a bite of the tip of the popsicle, while Virgil licked his more leisurely.

“When’s the last time you had any water?” Logan asked.

“Oh not this.” Roman groaned from his spot on the floor. Patton giggled as he returning, bending down to hand Roman a popsicle and join him on the floor. He also handed Logan a popsicle and the glass of water he asked for.

“I’m totally sure. My room definitely doesn’t just have warm leftover soda.” Deceit was pushing against Virgil, trying to curl on himself and was back to telling lies again, so Virgil knew he was a little scared. To be fair, even the anxious side didn’t like the cold way Logan’s eyes looked over Deceit’s body and then roughly handed the glass of water to him.

“You are dehydrated. Drink.” Logan said, and Deceit did. He sipped at it for a few minutes, the sound of Roman and Virgil’s heavy breathing being the only noise in the room. Both were affected by the heat, while Roman’s was because of his injuries that Virgil could now see more of. Patton’s hand’s twirling Roman’s hair playfully allowed him to see the cut on his forehead, the only one above his neck. Virgil’s was because he was nervous for Deceit, anxious for the way Logan or even Roman might treat him. When Deceit finished, Logan took the empty cup from him, and set it down, letting Deceit go back to biting at his popsicle. “Good. It would be unpleasurable to see you faint.”

“What?” Deceit asked as they all heard Roman sit up, wincing as he did so. Patton lifted him from underneath his knees, a surprising sight it was to see the father figure stand from the floor with the prince in his arms, and set Roman down carefully next to Logan on the couch as he complained about being carried.

“ It’s unprincely padre!” Roman whined, but didn’t complain when he leaned back against the comfy couch cushions. Deceit was still looking up at Virgil confused, while the anxious side shrugged and Roman laughed softly. “It’s Logan talk for he’s glad you’re okay, Jekyll and Lied.”

“Oh.” Deceit said, biting his lip before turning to Logan and awkwardly placing a hand on his shoulder. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Logan replied as Patton returned with his own popsicle, all of them know munching softly and popped in Frozen into the dvd player on top of the TV. The five settled into the couch, with Roman more or less laying on top of Logan and Patton on the arm of the couch next to Virgil as he laid one arm over Deceit. Soon enough, their bodies got a little cooler and their felt a little better, just in time for Deceit, Roman, and Patton to burst into Let it Go as Virgil and Logan groaned affectionately.

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liv-andletdie · 7 years ago

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Hey babe, for the otp, The Obvious (tp zelink)

Hey babe! You know me so well

who wakes the other one up with kisses?Link does. He wakes up at the ASS CRACK of dawn! it’s a habit drilled into him from years working on the ranch and he carried it over to his life in the castle.

He’ll wake up, have a quick breakfast before running through his morning exercises and then move onto training the troops, more often then not starting out with a run through Hyrule field to work up their appetites. All the while Zelda is still asleep in bed, wrapped up in a blanket and dreaming sweet dreams of Farmhands and goats.

Sometimes Zelda manages to get Link to stay in bed with her tho. He likes to kiss her good-morning before he starts his day (he just really likes kissing her, any excuse will do) She takes the opportunity to kiss him back and thread her fingers through his hair so he’ll relax. There’s a weak spot at the back of his neck which will make him snoozy if it’s massaged, it’s her greatest weapon!

who cooks for who?Most of the time they’re at the Castle so all of their meals are prepared for them by the chefs. However, Link does like to cook for her when he gets the chance to. Sometimes he’ll sneak into the kitchens late at night and make her some soup to help her sleep.

When they’re in Ordon Zelda enjoys cooking (Uli teaches her everything she knows) She just feels so proud of herself every time she makes something that he enjoys. When they’re in the tree house they sometimes like to pretend that they’re just a simple married couple with no responsibilities. No crowns, no titles, no sacred swords! just the two of them in their tree house. When they play this game Zelda will take on the role of devoted housewife (though she can’t fix any tears or patches in his clothes. Link’s better at sewing than she is)

who is the morning person/night person?They don’t call each other “Sun” and “Moon” for nothing.

Link is the “Shining Sun” he’s the morning person. Up early every day, asleep early every night. He can’t stay up late like Zelda can, he tried once and just ended up falling asleep in a council meeting the next day.

Zelda is the “Moon and Stars” She’s up with the moon and doesn’t normally get to sleep until just before dawn. She has a habit of staying up late to work on important papers. It takes a lot to run a country and because she has a habit of sleeping late in the mornings she uses her evenings to catch up.

Link gets frustrated with her at times because he’s worried that she’s not taking care of herself. He’ll have to carry her to bed some nights because she’ll fall asleep at her desk, or she’ll still be awake and he has to carry her AWAY from her desk to get her to sleep.

who is the romantic one?They’re both equally romantic in their own ways. Big sweeping gestures of affection aren’t really their cup of tea. Sure Zelda spends a lot of time reading romance novels but she doesn’t want to live in one!

They keep their romantic gestures small. Link will lay out her boots for her by the door (she has a habit of just kicking them off when she gets in after a long day) he’ll also swap boots with her because he knows she finds his boots more comfortable, it’s nothing to do with the fact that hers make him look taller or anything psht!

She’ll leave little notes in his stuff when he visits Ordon without her. Just small things like “I love you, my Shining Sun” or “Remember: Bring me back some pumpkin pie!”

who is the top when it comes to sex?Cowboy top, Goth Bottom.

Link is the top! He gets off on getting her off! Even when she’s “on top” he’s still in control! He can bring her to her knees with just a look!

Zelda spends all day being the Queen and commanding people, she doesn’t want to bring that stress into the bedroom. At the end of the day the only thing she wants is for someone else to make the difficult decisions. Luckily Link knows exactly what she likes and takes great pride in helping her relax after a long day. (and if in helping her relax he has to tie her to the bed and bring her to orgasm then that’s what he’ll do)

who would lead in ballroom dancing?Link would if he knew how to ballroom dance. He only knows the country dances that they do in Ordon! All the fancy twirls and lifts and dips in a standard Hylian waltz make his brain spin. Give him a sword and his footwork is impeccable, but ask him to dance and suddenly he’s got two left feet.

Zelda doesn’t dance a lot after the invasion. She used to dance all the time but she would never lead, that’s left up to her dancing partner, but the loss of her brother weighs heavily on her so she prefers not to dance in front of large crowds. She’ll dance along with Link in Ordon because she’s surrounded by family, and if she absolutely has to dance at the Castle then she’ll dance with Louis.

Sometimes Link and Zelda will “dance” together in their room. Link will take her by the hand and wrap an arm around her waist, then they’ll just sway together. Often exchanging little kisses.

who is the more cuddly one?You wouldn’t think it but it’s Zelda. She loves hugs! Any chance she has to just lie on the couch and snuggle with her hubby she takes. It’s actually her favourite way to relax, The two of them, curled up together, reading poetry that they love. (they normally have their “poetry club” meeting on the bed rather than the couch just so they have somewhere to put all their books haha)

Link is also very cuddly. He loves getting his head massaged and behind his ears scratched (Zelda once tickled him behind his ear and his leg shook! She couldn’t stop giggling) He also likes getting his belly rubbed as well. He’s got a pretty good physique, but he’s not like mega ripped! He takes care of himself. He��s still got a little bit of a belly and he loves it when Zelda rests her head on his chest and just rubs his tummy.

who is the one to most likely pick the movie they watch?Again I’m gonna change movie to play because there are not TV’s in Hyrule

Zelda normally picks what they watch. She’s a big theater fan and is the number one patron to the Goddess Theater in Castle Town. She knows what plays are showing when and buys her tickets months in advance. She’s the one who introduces Link to the Opera (not that he actually enjoyed the show or knew what was going on, he just spent most of his time watch Zelda laugh along with the crowd when someone supposedly said something funny)

Link doesn’t have a preference about what he watches, as long as it 1) makes him laugh and 2) makes Zelda smile. He only really goes with her to see her happy. Though the Ballet moved him a lot, his favourite part was when Zelda leaned in to explain what the story was.

Thank you so much for the questions

#tp zelink #zelink #tp zelda #tp link #ask game

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cutegirlmayra · 8 years ago

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Hiiii! My friend and I really love your writing of Sonamy and she had this concept that she really wanted you to write: Concept: Eggman, in an attempt to ruin Sonic, invents literal nightmare fuel that slowly breaks down Sonic's ego and makes him feel powerless and afraid to sleep. He first tests this on Amy and after that, he tests it on the rest of the team...

I LOOOOVEEEE request like this!!! :DDD Thank you so much!!! It’s a plot, it’s depth, and it’s so cute~

Tell your friend she’s a mini-genius!!! :Db And thank you both for supporting me and my stories! Means a lot :’3

I hope I can do her idea justice, precious anon!

(x)

Prompt:

Eggman was using a drill-bot to carve it’s way into the deepest, darkest cave imaginable. All the way out in the middle of nowhere, Eggman peered inside the drilled, crumbled rock.

Only his glasses shone in that pitch darkness, as then his smiling teeth as he saw the object he desired, glowing with whisps of purple light, not like the aliens, but darker… more corrupted entities.

Back at his lab, he snorted, giggled, and squawked laughters as he pushed and pressed buttons like his fingers were dancers.

“At last! I’ve got it! I think I’ve got the code to trigger their power and centralize it into one … dream…” he rubbed his hands together, “Huhuhu… with these ‘nightmares’ I’ll have Sonic losing all hope! He’ll believe he’s a good-for-nothing! And I’ll be the emperor of the eggman empire in no time!~” he jumped to turn around and click his heels together, rushing over to the cylinder, clear tube that held the destructive creatures. They’re mouths opened to whispy daggers for teeth, and their purple, smokey bodies blinked with glares.

“There, there… my little evil critters~” he tapped his fingers to the glass, making them freak out and shake their hands, wanting to attack but returning to the urn which they were trapped inside.

“Hehehe~ Hohoho!!!” He billowed another loud laugh as he leaned his back into an arch in his joy.

But within that laughter, he realized something. “ho, ho?” he blinked his eyes, motioning his neck down. “But what if my test run doesn’t work? I’ll need to test my hypothesis on directing these little balls of terror before I actually unleash them on Sonic’s team! Hmm..” he rubbed his chin, thinking…

He suddenly smirked, turning to his computer.

“…Wasn’t Amy Rose tracking Sonic just a moment ago?”

—

Amy waddled through the forest, huffing and puffing in her weariness, tapping each tree she passed with the palm of her hand, as if checking to make sure she had stable support if she ever needed it.

She finally stood up straight, exhausted from a long day, and leaned her head back. “Ugh.. He’s traveled too far this time.” She moaned, before lowering her head with a heavy sigh. “And I was really hoping to spend time with him today…” she pouted, looking truly disappointed, but not that upset as she was used to sometimes failing on her ventures to find Sonic.

“He’s a tricky one.” she mused, picturing him dashing over large fields, defeating robots, and maybe even taking a second to stop and smile at a passing thought of her.

“Ha~~~” she sighed, melting at the idea of Sonic taking a second to think of her for a change.

—

Eggman positioned his gun perfectly, focusing the nightmartic spirits where he wanted their power concentrated.

“Eat her dreams alive, boys… woo-hohohho!” he laughed, and fired down once the gun rocked it’s way to have her in the center of it’s target. “Fire!”

Eggman’s gun sprung the spirit’s power, a misty purple smoke, straight through the atmosphere as it hit her in the back of her head, and spiraled down her body.

—

Amy suddenly felt a wave of sleepiness hit her upside the head, and all of a sudden, a strange aroma was pulling her to sit down… to rest… to take it easy…

“Wha-..what..?” she knew this wasn’t right, as she slowly came to her knees, and started to lay down. “H…Help…” she lightly rested her head down, as her whole body became too heavy to move, and too weak to stand…

There were puzzles under her feet, and as she looked down, she noticed some were glowing a bright, see-through gold.

“Amy…”

Amy looked up, before smiling happily towards Sonic, a little ways away on the same puzzle-piece floor she was on.

“Sonic!” Her voice echo’d in the empty space.

He looked upset, turning away from her. “You have to stop this mess.”

“…Ah… Mess?” she was confused, but she held her hands back, her feet paused from rushing towards him.

She had never seen such a shallow expression on his face before…

“I don’t want you always trying to find me! To hog my attention away from the world!” he swiped his hand out, looking more and more frustrated, as she stepped a foot back.

“…A-..Attention..?” She held her fists up to her chest, not sure what he was saying.

The puzzle-piece below her suddenly fell, as her foot almost fell through the crack.

She gasped as she pulled it up, looking down at the puzzle piece, and studying how it could have fallen…

As her eyes scanned, Sonic’s voice once again arose, this time much harsher and crueler than even she thought possible to imagine.

“This is it, Amy! I’m tried of letting you get away with what you want!”

“What I… want?” she turned around, her eyes shaking at his words.

“Sonic…” she could feel her heart breaking, her lips trembling as tears almost threatened her.

Around her, puzzle pieces on the floor started falling, strikes of lightning taking some of them out.

“I can’t stand it, Amy! I can’t stand you!” Sonic bit down on the word, glaring as he lunged himself forward.

“I WISH YOU WOULD JUST DISAPPEAR!”

As he threw his arm out, Amy felt the ground beneath her break and dip down, the puzzle pieces falling rapidly as she fell with them, reaching up for his cold, unfeeling expression as he watched her fall.

“Sonic…” her eyes widened, gripping her hands before forcing them apart and reaching up for him. “NOOO!!!!”

She disappeared into the darkness, hovering in the air.

“I don’t want to be alone… I don’t… I …” She gripped herself into a tight curl, but not fully a ball, as her hair and dress rippled in the mist of the empty space.

There was nothing now.

No sound but her own desperate cries.

Tears floated in the space around her.

“I… I don’t want to die without knowing…. knowing what it’s like… I don’t want to be alone… I don’t want to die alone!!!”

She threw her head up, screaming.

“SOOOONNNIICCCC!!!!”

The Sonic above, turned his head away, walking away from the surface.

Once absent from her sight, his face suddenly morphed to the snickering of the nightmaric spirit, chuckling with it’s jagged, spiked teeth; Sonic’s body myistifying into a purple smokey being.

—-

“Excellent!” Eggman jumped up from his seat, watching the activity of her vital signs and pulses, mental strain and brainwaves, the like; determining right then and there that his experiment was a success!

“Now, then! To the others!”

He pushed some buttons, as the gun flung around and shot the remaining nightmaric spirits to the different locations he punched in.

He twirled around with the gun, doing a little silly dance before looking back at his creation. “Tonight! Eggman industries presents a spectacular, dream-like experience you’ve NEVER dared to have before! WHOHOHOH!” as he laughed, the nightmaric spirits all gathered together in the tube, seeming to scheme, before turning to Eggman, and laughing creepishly towards him…

—

Sonic turned in his sleep, as did Tails and Knuckles, as each one had a horrific nightmare of their deepest, darkest fears.

Sonic was engulfed in water, unable to do anything, and for some reason, still able to breathe.

“Noo!” he cried out, trying to move upward, but only sinking as Amy and his friends were slashed through, shadowy silhouettes showing their last moments of life, and even Amy reaching down in the water to him, before red filled the water, dying it as it floated past him like curved paint in an oil canvas, swarming his being.

Powerless, Sonic watched the red surround him, polluting the water and gripping his throat.

He struggled to breathe now.

“N.. nmm!” he gripped his throat, his cheeks puffing up to try and remain with oxygen.

His arms flailed through the water, as suddenly he was pulled down into a dark abyss, his friend’s silhouettes being thrown into the water… Metal Sonic’s shadow… turning to stare down at him from a distance… at the surface.

Then, it shifted, turning into a nightmaric spirit’s face, and cackled as Sonic’s feet were limp, and weren’t able to kick him towards the surface of the water…

He closed his eyes, feeling life drain from him.

He was forced to be pulled under the water’s current…

—

Tails was trapped in a small cube, as he pounded on it and cried out to let him out, his X-Tornado turning on him and firing, causing lightning to spring out from it’s guns and attack the cube.

Tails threw up his arms, crying out as his mouth hung in utter fright.

He ducked down, unable to avoid as the X-Tornado went back up into the thunderstorm, and then spiraled down to let out a fresh new patch of lightning down upon his trapped self.

“Stop it!!!” Tails shouted out, as suddenly he heard Sonic’s piercing cry, and looked up.

“No!” Tails banged on the cube, “Sonic!”

Sonic,… Amy… Knuckles… they were all being struck by Lightning, and falling down, rising up as zombie like expressions on their faces, and walking towards him.

“You couldn’t help us, Tails…” Amy’s faint voice barely made it to his ears.

His eyes shook, scooting away from that side of the cube. “No…”

“You’re useless to me, Tails…” Sonic’s body kept hobbling towards the cube, his head going limp.

Tails shook in utter terror.

“You’re still a no one… not a friend of ours.” Knuckles’s arms stretched forward. “Now we’ll take you out… so the lightning can kill you too.”

They all piled the box.

“No…Stop… please…! I’m sorry! I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough! I’m sorry!!!”

The three nightmartic spirits chuckled, their faces shifting as Tails threw his hands over his head, his tails also encircling him in his great fear.

—

Knuckles struggled to try and keep his new family safe, but with each robot army that came, he turned to suddenly see them swiped down, out of existence, turning to nothing more than dust.

“Ah!” he rushed to them, gripping the dirt. “The last echidnas…” he was alone again, before looking up and seeing the robots break the Master Emerald, turning it into small fragments that they crushed to utter oblivion…

Their sparkling powder floated by him, as his eyes widened and they stung his open eyes.

“NOOO!!!”

Angel Island came crashing down, the robots self-destructing as suddenly the Island bent into itself, cracking and splitting, till lost in the sea…

Knuckles smashed the earth beneath him, before his shoulders bounced in his tears, and he laid down before the crashing sea…

“No…Rouge… Sonic… My friends… My family… The Master Emerald… I’ve failed them.. I’ve failed them all…”

Behind him, the robots faces turned to nightmaric spirits, laughing…

—

“WHHOHOHOHHO! BRILLIANT!” Eggman danced around in his lab, even going disco-funky with his actions. “Now, to take over the world!” He stuck a finger up, posing, before typing more coordinates.

But by this time… he hadn’t realized the Nightmares were growing with the dread and fear that came from their hosts… and they’re being morphed into Sonic, Amy, Tails, and Knuckles.

The remaining nightmare spirits laughed in their usual way, before breaking the cylinder tube… and going for Eggman.

“W-what?” he saw the gun stop firing, and turned around.

“No… no,… NOO!!” Eggman threw his hands up, as they chuckled and swarmed his being in their mist, knocking him out and diving into his dreams… their laughter never ceasing…

—

Sonic woke up in a cold sweat, blinking hard and breathing irregularly.

He touched his chest… no water.

Just the cold of the wind.

His eyes were heavy, but he shook his head, getting up.

“That was no dream…” Sonic concluded, and turned to look out away from him.

He heard someone shouting his name…

Suddenly, the sound became more clear as he gained control over his senses again…

“Amy!!!” he charged, bolting himself through the long distance to find where the echo was coming from.

It disturbed him, seeing he was awake, but her voice was bouncing off from everywhere.

The mountains didn’t help.

The valleys were worst.

He finally found her, collapsed under a tree, screaming out with tears pouring down her face.

“Tails! Knuckles! Someone help me!!!” she cried in her sleep, talking outloud.

“Hang on, Amy! Wake up! Snap out of it!” Sonic knelt down and shook her, before her eyes sprung up, and she fought him slightly away.

“Don’t hurt me! Don’t hurt me!”

Sonic, startled by the response, immediately pulled his hands away from her, backing away.

“Amy… it’s me… It’s Sonic..” he took a gentler tone, his eyes bending back as he worried his shaking had startled her to the point of possibly hurting her.

“Amy… You’re alright. It was just a dream.”

She breathed hard, gripping herself, looking around.

“It’s… it’s dark.”

He saw she was getting her senses back, and bent down again beside her, offering her his arms. “It’s cold too.”

She gripped him with a death-hold of pure, unfathomable terror.

She clung to him like her source of life, breathing rapidly off measure, and having her heartbeat influence his own rapidly beating one.

“You’re alright, Amy. I don’t know what’s going on. But I’m worried about Tails and the others.” He gently held her, before feeling her tremble and lightly moving his hand to her head, stroking it to try and still her.

“You’re alright. I’m here… Whatever that was… Whatever thing possessed us… I won’t let it get away with this.”

He found some relief in having her around… at least he knew he wasn’t dreaming anymore either.

She nodded, finally calming down to a regular breath, before wiping her eyes and finally letting him go.

“My dream… While I was sinking into the dark… I heard Tails, and Knuckles laughing too. Everyone was laughing.”

“Mine too.” Sonic could only recall the deformed image of Metal Sonic, his eyes glowing… his face turning to a jagged grin…

He looked away from her a moment, considering the possibility… “Maybe we were all trapped under the same dreams…”

“Why do you say that?” Amy looked more directly to him, confused.

“Because I was sinking too.”

Amy let out a pity groan, lightly, as if feeling empathy for him.

“I’m fine.” He lied, patted her head again, trying more to sooth her than himself.

“We… we need to stick together. To find the others.” He wouldn’t admit it, but he didn’t want to leave her side. Fear still gripped him. He wasn’t letting her out of his sights.

Tails and Knuckles were both awakened, and the only explanation to the increased power source that night, from Tails’s readings, were coming from Eggman’s base.

“I didn’t know he had a base way out here.” Sonic saw the robots smashed against the side of the doors… the doors wide open… the halls showing wired ripped robots…

“Something came in.” Knuckles tightened his fists, getting ready…

“No…” Sonic stopped walking, turning seriously with a knowing look towards the broken cylinder. “Something got out.”

Eggman groaned.

The four all turned to him, laying down, up against his control station.

“I don’t want to be alone.. without a cause, please! Let me destroy you a little longer! I promise! I’ll be better! Don’t go! Don’t leave me without a purpose!!!”

He tossed his head desperately, before Amy walked over, taking her hammer out.

“Amy.” Sonic cautioned, worried what she would do with him.

She saw his arm extended, and nodded, “I’m just waking him up.” she answered over her shoulder, looking back to him. “No one deserves the nightmares we’ve all endured…”

No one disputed her.

Amy whacked Eggman on the head, light enough that it wasn’t painful, but still enough to snap him out of it.

He woke up, flinching, sweat trailing down his bald forehead.

“Wha..where… where am I?”

“Alive.” Sonic almost spoke through his teeth. “Now… tell us where they are?”

“You’re not good enough.”

The team turned around, seeing the nightmaric spirits, all morphed into their figures, even an Eggman one, raising their heads with smirks.

“You’re pathetic!” The Tails spirit stated, right after the Sonic one spoke.

“Pitiful.” The Amy spirit spat out.

“Worth less than dirt!” The Eggman spirit swished a ghostly hand out, purple mist trailing it’s action.

The five stood tall,.. there was a moment of silence… as more hurtful and piercing insults stung at their pride and their hearts.

“…Sonic.” Eggman dipped his head down, but clearly addressing him. “I wouldn’t normally say this… but… circumstances as they are-”

“We’ll fight them.” Sonic spoke carefully, but quickly.

He nodded his head, “Together.”

Eggman turned to him, seeing the forgiveness and nodded, turning back to the nightmare spirits.

“That urn in my large, broken flask is the only thing that can trap them.”

“We have to conquer our fears then.” Amy threw her arm back, her hammer positioned and ready to strike as she bent her knees. Ready.

“We have to stand together.” Tails also prepared himself. Ready.

“I may be able to forgive Eggman… but not you creeps!” Knuckles bashed his fists together, shouting loudly his war cry. Ready.

Sonic… was not ready.

He clenched his fist, as Amy could see.

His nightmaric spirit tilted his head, smirking as it narrowed it’s eyes.

“…Sonic.” Amy gently put her hand to his.

He twitched his head up, looking to her.

He was surprised at first, but nodded in understanding.

He wasn’t going to fail his friends.

He wasn’t going to be useless.

He was going to fight.

And he was going to win!

His friends would be just fine.

“Ready!” Sonic called to them, looking fierce with a renewed, confident smile.

“READY!” They all charged, as Eggman looked around, and sprang up to follow after them, swinging a fist to his nightmaric spirit.

“AHHH!!!” he went right through him, as the other spirit laughed, hitting him down.

“Grr.. Oh, I get it.” Eggman got back up. “I’m worth twice as many evil villains as you!” He threw his fist again.

The spirit looked confused, startled into freezing still, as the fist made it disappear, and it’s purple mist came back into the urn.

“Heheh~” Eggman boasted, blowing on his fist to get the remaining purple trail off of it.

Sonic spin dashed, “I’m the hero of my own story!” the other Sonic vanished in a similar manner, returning to the urn.

Sonic struck a pose, his hand flared up as he landed and uncurled, smiling his signature cocky grin.

“I’m not worthless, I’m ten times smarter than you!” Tails threw a wrench into the spirit, as it trailed back into the urn.

“I’m not alone!!” Knuckles whammed into his spirit, “My duty isn’t over yet!” as it returned to the urn.

“I’m… I’m…” Amy was still under the nightmares influence, as it waited, before knocking her down in impatience.

“Offph!”

“Amy!”

The team gathered around her, even Eggman, helping her up.

She looked around her, seeing her friends right by her side.

She turned to the spirit, eyes fixed in her resolve.

“I’m… Strong.”

She took out the spirit as it returned to the urn.

The urn was placed back in the cave, sealed up by Eggman.

He crossed his heart in a gesture to Sonic and his friends, showing he wouldn’t go near that cave ever again…

(I tried to keep it canon, what do you think? :) )

#sonamy #sonicxamy #sonic prompt #sonamy prompt #cutegirlmayra #sonic #sonic the hedgehog #sega #amy rose #knuckles #amy #knuckles the echidna #tails the fox #miles tails prower

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pandabearlikes · 8 years ago

Text

Temporary Affairs II

Table of Contents 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

Chapter o4. The Fated and the Unexpected

On a bright August afternoon, you waited patiently outside Jongin’s office for him to finish up an abruptly scheduled meeting so you two could go for a lunch date. As you nonchalantly flipped through a tourist magazine introducing Rome’s artistic environment, Jongin’s secretary placed a mug on the coffee table in front of you.

“Thanks,” you smiled. She winked and formed an “okay” sign with her hand.

With your back slouched against the soft pig cushion that Jongin specifically ordered for you, you sipped the warm milk. The liquid tickled your taste buds and soothed your sore throat. You sighed in contentment. Your eyelids grew heavy and you almost surrendered to dreamland if it hadn’t been the indescribable sudden tightness in your chest. Sitting up straight, you placed your hand on your heart. Not long after, a baby’s wail was heard a few feet away in the guest’s waiting room. A few light kicks came from your own little bean in response. Rubbing your belly, you curiously got up and trotted over to see what a baby was doing in a company that produced electronics. At the doorway, you popped your head in to see an attractive young man rocking a little baby in his arms.

“Shh…Youngwoo-yah, don’t cry okay? Appa needs to go to a meeting in a few minutes and they won’t let you in with me if you cry,” the man whispered to the baby but he continued to cry.

The young father pulled the baby up to the air and attempted to quiet his sobs with little butterfly kisses but to no avail. Desperate, he placed his child against his shoulder and patted his back. Still he cried. Smiling at the sweet yet vulnerable scene, you patted your belly and walked in.

“Hey, I-I think he needs a diaper change,” you tried to sound as un-condescending as possible so you ended up nervously rubbing the back of your neck.

Shocked by your sudden intrusion, he almost fell out of his chair. When he recovered, he instantly brought the baby up to his face, sniffed, and crinkled his nose. You muffled back a giggle and watched as the clueless father tried to dig through a bag for diapers with one hand, while balancing his baby on the other.

“If you don’t mind, I may be able to help you a bit…” you offered then immediately added as a disclaimer, “Of course, I’m still a complete newbie and all but I did go to a few classes and they taught us –“

“I’d really appreciate that,” he sincerely replied with a smile, breaking your nervous ramble. His eyes turned into crescent moons, almost – almost but not as beautifully as your hubby’s killer smiles.

Grinning, you took a seat next to the young man and took the crying baby from his arms.

“Aww, hi Sweetie. Don’t worry, Noona will make everything feel better again,” you whispered in a baby’s voice.

You got up to walk to the ladies’ room but seeing the worry in the father’s eyes you sat back down.

“Be right back,” you informed, placing the baby back into the father’s outstretched arms.

You half-waddled over to the doorway and waved for the attention of Jongin’s secretary, “Katie, can you bring me a towel?”

She stopped typing and got up to retrieve your requested item. As you waited, you gave the man a reassuring smile. Your own baby continued to kick a few times as if communicating with the crying infant. In a few minutes, Katie returned with a tablecloth in her hands. Thanking her, you took it and walked back to reunite with the father and son.

“Sorry, they didn’t have towels,” you said and he immediately shook his head for you not to worry.

So you unfolded the tablecloth and spread it on the coffee table. The father placed the baby on it, cringing as he squirmed and wiggled around on the hard surface. You patted his shoulder and took his place on the seat in front of the still sobbing infant. Cooing, you patted his tummy, held him in place with one hand, and with the other slipped off the dirty diaper. Tossing it into the garbage can, you took a wet wipe and washed him up. Beside you, the father sighed in relief as soon as his son’s maddening wails calmed down. With a sprinkle of baby powder and a few gentle kisses, the cries morphed into little gurgles and babbles. Smiling widely yourself, you expertly unrolled a clean diaper, placed it underneath his little bum, and wrapped in securely onto his waist.

“Yay! We’re all good!” you cheered, lifting the now happy little boy in your arms.

You turned around to see the young father looking admirably at you. Now that you were a lot calmer, you finally got the chance to really observe his features. He looked probably around Jongin’s age, if not slightly younger.

Stretching your hand, you introduced, “Hi, I’m ________ _______”.

“Oh Sehun,” he replied, reaching out to grab your hand but you took it back.

Laughing you said, “I better go wash my hands first. Be right back”.

Handing him back his child, you excused yourself to the restroom. In the halls, you couldn’t help but grin foolishly at your accomplishment. Internal pat on the shoulder for ________’s first diaper change! You felt gentle kicks on your tummy.

“Aww, you agree Omma’s a pro, huh?” you chipped, rubbing your belly. Oppa’s going to be so proud of me!

You rushed back after the bathroom break, hoping that the baby was still there. He was so, so cute.

“Hey!” you said as soon as you swung the door open.

But because you opened the door with so much force, it vacillated back and hit you hard against the back of the head. You whimpered, rubbing your new bruise. Sehun stood up confusingly, unsure if he should step forward and check on you or not.

“I’m fine!” you exclaimed reassuringly and he chuckled.

“You’re a clumsy one, huh, _______ssi?” he joked and sat back down.

“Hm…that’s what my husband always says too,” you said half-pouting, half-giggling.

Gleefully, you plopped down on the sofa next to Sehun to admire the tiny creature on his lap. Whether it was the unique heart wrenching eyes, or the chiseled lips, he looked like a carbon copy of his father. Unconsciously, you rubbed your belly and wondered if your baby would also be a mini Jongin. You grinned widely at the thought.

“You’re going to be a great mother, _______ssi,” Sehun complimented.

Your eyes twinkled and you asked, “Really? You think so? My husband still calls me a child though”.

Chuckling, he responded, “I’m sure he’s only teasing you”.

You crinkled your nose with skepticism. I really don’t think so. That handsome butthead Kim Jongin has said it enough times to drill it into the back of my brain.

“Believe me, your husband probably feels like the luckiest man in the world to have you,” he guaranteed.

Smiling, you replied, “And I’m sure your wife feels like the luckiest woman in the universe”.

Instead of the wide grin you expected, his face contorted and he stared emptily into thin air. You swallowed the lump in your throat guiltily. Uh oh, did his wife pass away? That would explain why he had to take his son with him even to a business meeting. Mortified, you physically slapped your bad mouth a few times.

Clearing your throat, you changed the topic and asked, “So what is your name, Handsome Little Fellow?”

Sehun broke from his trance and turned around to respond, “Youngwoo. Oh Youngwoo”.

Just as you were about to respond, Katie popped her head in and said, “Oh Sehun-ssi, the team manager is ready to see you”.

He got up nervously shuffling his hands in his pockets and asked, “I know this sounds ridiculous, but does he mind that I bring my son in with me. I swear he’s super obedient”.

The secretary cringed at that idea.

“Sehun-ssi, if you don’t mind, I can stay with Youngwoo until your meeting ends,” you offered.

“Oh, really that would be great---But I don’t want to bother you, _______ssi, if you have to go,” he replied.

“Oh, no. I’ll be staying here anyway because my husband is in a meeting. Even if I don’t look after Youngwoo, I’ll still be sitting here bored to death,” you reassured.

Thanking you a million times, the young father grabbed his stacks of papers and folders and followed Katie to the conference room.

Alone with Youngwoo, you discovered yourself ogling over his cuteness. The baby boy also seemed to develop a liking toward you for he continued to smile his precious smile and babble until your heart melted. Bringing him onto your lap, you drew circles around his belly, causing him to kick his tiny legs. Suddenly, you felt your child move around in your own tummy.

“Eep, is my Little Bean jealous? Omma’s just trying to find you a future husband,” you placed Youngwoo back in the stroller to give your daughter some tender love and care.

While you hummed soft melodies to calm both Youngwoo and your baby down, the door opened.

“Oppa!” you jumped from the sofa to throw yourself at your hubby.

As you do, you almost tripped over but thankfully Jongin was quick on his feet, catching you before you hit the floor.

“What am I going to do with you? Jagiya, you’re over five months pregnant, can you try not to fall over flat surfaces?” he reprimanded.

There he goes hinting that I’m too childish. Pouting, you unwrapped your arms from him and stumped back to the sofa, upset at his implications. Jongin knowingly followed along, sitting on the loveseat’s armrest so he could hover over and kiss you on the top of the head. But you continued to give him the silent treatment, opting to give your attention entirely to the cute baby in front of you. Your husband tried to get your attention by twirling your hair in his hand and snuggling his nose to the crook of your neck but you continued to play with Youngwoo.

“Where did you kidnap a baby from? You didn’t go into labor without me, did you?” Jongin asked, pulling you up to your feet to examine your stomach.

Pabo. You rolled your palm into a ball and clunked him in the forehead. He laughed and took the chance to make up for earlier by wrapping you up in a warm bear hug. At first, you wiggled a bit but the moment you sniffed in his scent, you surrendered.

“Pabo,” you vocally spoke, “I married a Pabo”.

“And I married a beautiful wife,” he replied.

#@$#@%@%%# My husband is a life ruiner.

“I hate when you say that,” you feigned uninterest.

“You love it when I say it because it’s true,” he sweet-talked and you squirmed.

“How many girls have you used this tactic on?” you interrogated, lightly punching his chest a few times.

“One,” he replied, smirking when you threw your head back in defeat.

Still chuckling, he asked, “But Jagiya, really, where did the baby come from?”

Unwinding yourself from him, you skipped over to the stroller and picked up the cheerful little boy. Jongin hovered over you looking lovingly at Youngwoo. He lifted his finger and stroked the little boy under the chin, igniting and eruption of coos from the baby. His tiny hands curled around Jongin’s finger.

“He’s our son-in-law,” you introduced.

Raising his brow, Jongin asked, “Did you seriously betroth our daughter before she’s even born?”

“Hehe,” you twittered, earning you a wet smooth on your cheek, “But I swear, Oppa, I’m not exaggerating. She was kicking me the whole time I was with Youngwoo. If that’s not love at first sight, I don’t know what is”.

Shaking his head, he leaned in to make silly faces at Youngwoo, who you held in your arms.

The door creaked open. Jongin and you turned around.

“Hey!” you greeted but the intruder froze in place staring at your husband.

Raising your brows, you confusingly turned around to see your husband mirroring his reaction. Sehun raised his hand and pointed to Jongin.

“Kim Kai!” he exclaimed. Huh? Kim Kai?

“Oh Sehun!” your husband responded with just as much enthusiasm.

You blinked in puzzlement as they man-hugged. Okay…I’m just going to…You slowly backed up but Jongin grabbed you by the arm.

“This is my wife, _______,” Jongin introduced, “Jagiya, this is Sehun, we used to play basketball together”.

Still a little bewildered, you slowly nodded.

Laughing, Sehun corrected, “More like we were on rival teams but bonded over a fight”.

“Interesting,” you continued to nod with widened eyes.

“So why are you here, Sehun?” Jongin asked, his arm still over your shoulder.

“Proposal for a new device,” he replied, showing Jongin a few blueprints that were in his hands.

“How about you? Why are you here? Do you work here?” he questioned.

Jongin chuckled, “I guess you can say that”.

Raising his eyebrow, Sehun leaned in and squinted at Jongin’s nametag. His eyes widened.

“You’re the president?!” he exclaimed and your husband nodded, patting Sehun’s shoulder when the latter man planted his face in his hands in embarrassment.

As you watched the two handsome men catch up, your tummy grumbled. They abruptly stopped talking to turn around to you. You laughed nervously.

“Not me. The baby,” you said defensively.

Chuckling, Jongin asked, “Sehun-ah, want to join us for lunch? We have a lot to catch up on”.

The young father happily agreed.

At the coffee shop, as the boys chatted, you continued to play with Youngwoo. Rocking the baby back and forth, you tilted the milk bottle in your hands watching as he sucked up the contents. His innocent round eyes stared back at you, capturing your heart.

“Sehun-ah, you better be careful, I think _______ may kidnap your son,” Jongin joked. Not exactly a lie.

Your lips smacked together in a thin line as you elbowed your husband in the stomach.

“________ssi, you’re welcomed to come visit Youngwoo anytime you want,” Sehun laughed.

“Really?” you asked, your eyes glimmering in anticipation.

He nodded.

“But where’s his Omma?” you heard your voice blurt out your thoughts.

Immediately, you covered your lips. Jongin pulled on your sleeves and you hung your head in guilt.

“She…” he started but his voice faded. He focused his attention on his bubble tea. Tears brimmed in his eyes.

“Sehun-ah, you don’t have to tell us anything. ________ is just noisy, don’t take it personally”.

The younger male shook his head and responded, “It’s fine…I just didn’t treat her correctly so she left me”.

“Left? Where to?” you heard your voice ask. Crap. I’m going to have to sew my lips tight.

“I…I don’t know. I’ve been trying to find her for months. But she cut me off,” he answered.

From his watery eyes to his tensed shoulders, you could tell that he really loved his wife. A part of you sympathized with him but as a female, you could already feel his wife’s pain. It must not have been an easy choice for her either.

“Don’t worry, she will be back,” you said firmly.

“I’m not too positive on that,” he responded, looking off to the distance.

“Sehun-ssi,” you called for his attention then spoke with utmost determination, “If you love her, she will be back”.

Beside you, you could feel your husband’s gaze stall on you, puzzled by the foreign seriousness that lined your words. From under the table, he stroked your thigh. You turned around to look at him. And sometimes, even if you don’t love her…she will still return to you.

“________ is right. Don’t worry. My wife left me before too and look at us now, we’re still happily married,” Jongin reasoned.

“Plus, I don’t think any mother could leave such a cute baby,” you added then turned to the baby in the stroller, “right, Youngwoo?”

Sehun sighed and spoke, “I sure hope so”.

As you tickled Youngwoo’s tummy, for some reason your eyes clouded up and you felt a knot in the pit of your stomach. It felt so foreign and unreal, as if another spirit had taken control of your body. Just how much courage it must have taken to leave your own child and the man that you loved. And silently as you sobbed, you discovered yourself praying for their happiness…because in their happiness you found hope that maybe…maybe Jongin, you, and your baby could also find happiness.

a/n: Hello my unicorns and bunnies and my bean bean (yes, she’s a bean, okay? xD) hahaha. Hope you guys enjoyed our guest stars Youngwoo and Sehun :)…we kinda got a glimpse of a few months after Chapter 14 of The Lucky One. Sehun/Youngwoo shows up again in later chapters (actually, next chp has them too lol).

For those of you conflicted with the girl’s immaturity, I want to re-emphasize the fact that a lot of this story’s plot is about her character development and the fact that she is childish, which will eventually cause the big conflict in the story…in turn forcing her to “grow up”. Please read these two post I wrote about the reason her personality is so insecure and childish: 1 2

On another note, any Tao biases out there ;p oh hoho. One reader already caught that I updated my MasterList and Story Archive with info regarding the series that will follow TA2. This story is really on point – no fillers what so ever – fast pace…the kind of angst that literally makes you feel sour on the inside. I don’t think I have cried so hard in my life re-reading my own story – the other times was with The Lucky One and one chapter in TA2.

#kai scenario #kai scenarios #kai fanfic #kai fanfiction #exo scenario #exo scenarios #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #exo angst #kai #jongin #kim jongin #Temporary Affairs #The Lucky One

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