#hope this makes sense i am in complete scramble mode right now | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kikilefangirl · 4 years ago

Text

The Witch Who Won’t Part 3

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

(Word Count: 1626)

Normally, you tried to dedicate time specifically for reading your Gammy’s grimoire. It was history, filled with guidance from past witches and their spells.

Your time was cut short by none other than Marcel Gerard.

“We’re closed,” You said, running a gloved hand down the page before closing the book entirely.

Grimoires were for a witch’s eyes only, especially your Gammy’s grimoire.

“I need a protection spell.” He asked.

Marcel reminded you of Klaus. He had a twinkle in his eye and a habit of demanding things get done.

“Ask that little girl you got to do it for you.” You sniped offhandedly. You lug the grimoire back into

“I need a protection spell.” He asked.

Marcel reminded you of Klaus. He had a twinkle in his eye and a habit of demanding things get done.

“Ask that little girl you got to do it for you.” You sniped offhandedly. You lug the grimoire back into your bag.

“C’mon, Y/N. Davina needs a little more time to bake.” Marcel pleaded with you.

You’d been working all day and not one vampire showed up, but since closing they wanted to make an appearance. You frowned at the thought. Not even Klaus, who had been making somewhat regular visits, had shown up. You hadn’t seen him in weeks. You sighed and shot him an exasperated look.

“Who is it and where can I find ‘em?”

Marcel smiled. His dark eyes lit up, and his laugh lines were on full display.

“Thank you. She’s the blonde bartender, works at Russo’s.” For how old he actually was, Marcel looked like a kid in a candy shop. You didn’t want to get his hopes up.

“Don’t thank me yet. I need to assess. You ain’t got pull with too many witches. I��m only considering this because I’ve seen your record. All the good you’ve done for us.”

Marcel met your eyes and nodded, seemingly sobered by your words. He knew what us meant.

With a quick goodbye, he was gone.

...

You hadn’t been to Russo’s in a minute.

They had gotten new furniture and updated the light fixtures, but the lively atmosphere hadn’t changed at all.

But when you spotted the bartender girl you’d been looking for, you wanted to hit something.

Klaus. He was there, flirting and going on and on with the girl. It didn’t take long before reality dawned on you. Marcel wanted to protect her from Klaus or whatever trouble Klaus brought with him.

You tried to fix your face into a calmer one. Vincent was always on you about your complete disaster of a poker face. You wore your emotions on your sleeve, but as a witch, you had no choice but to keep them in check. You guessed this was one of those times it came in handy.

You strut into the bar and take the stool next to Klaus.

“I’ll take two of whatever he’s having.” You said. Your voice is harsher than you intended it to be.

The woman replied, and went off to the other side of the bar. Klaus’s gaze burned with curiosity, but you looked straight ahead.

“Why won’t such a beautiful creature look me in my eyes. You wound me.” He told you. You resisted the urge to make a face. Klaus didn’t deserve the satisfaction.

“Why is an Original slumming it in a bar when I know you probably own the best booze in town.”

You knew the answer. But the blonde’s resurgence with your drinks stopped him from giving it. You downed both glasses, ignoring the fire building up in your throat. Bourbon.

You’d learned enough. You stood up, “He’s paying.”

You knew Klaus was too conniving to follow you out the bar with the bartender—Camille, Camille was her name—watching him. He would get creative, but payback for your snub was a problem for later.

Besides, you leaving Klaus was becoming a pattern for the two of you. He was used to it by now, no doubt.

...

Fine. I’ll do it.

You texted Marcel and turned your phone on airplane mode.

Pouring a hefty glass of wine, you settled on the couch. The TV was on, but you couldn’t pay attention to it. Your apartment wasn’t very large, but it was yours. Vincent and Eva had lived in Gammy’s house when they got married. Then the bitch tainted it. The very place Gammy taught you what it meant to be connected to nature and the supernatural world, was perverted. You’d only been back there a few times, and that was more than enough.

A single knock pulled you back to reality.

“Go away.” You muttered. You didn’t move to get up, and you weren’t going to. You took another sip from your glass.

A second knock came, this time more forceful and in rapid succession.

Your head snaps up. The alcohol dulled your senses, but your magic was under no such condition. You could feel his presence—the presence of an Original, standing just outside your door. You set your glass on the table.

“As someone with extra special hearing, I’m damn sure you heard the part where I said go away.” You quipped.

You stood a few feet from the door with your hand held out, just a hair’s breadth away from the door. You had just made up your mind to turn away when you heard his voice.

“You should’ve stayed longer, I believe it would’ve been more fun.”

Klaus spoke and you were ashamed to say you missed him. You closed your eyes, and flung the door open.

There he was, perched in your doorway. You could feel his gaze, trying to find an opening. You refused to face him head on.

“Invite me in, love. It’s rather lonely out here.” He told you with a crooked smile and raised brows.

“If you want something, the store opens at eight am sharp. Goodnight.” You said. You swallowed hard and grabbed the doorknob.

“You would leave me out here as if I am a stranger to you.” Klaus yelled out.

Your head snapped towards him, and for the first time you could see how ancient he was. All of the lifetimes he’d lived, all the blood he’d spilled, all the pain carried for a millennia.

The man in front of you was absolutely terrified.

And he was going to leave if you didn’t stop him. You scrambled across the threshold, and grabbed his arm.

“Klaus!” You called out.

“What did you come here for?” You hoped it wasn’t for that girl. But you needed to be sure you weren’t just imagining the little moments you shared.

Klaus glanced down at your hand and you quickly snatched it away. Straightening up, you purse your lips in preparation for whatever was coming out of his mouth.

“A warning.” The hybrid’s voice was hollow.

Before you could retreat back inside your apartment Klaus’s expression darkened. His once blue eyes were replaced by golden ones, and a web of veins appeared underneath them, distorting his handsome face. His true nature—his hybrid nature, had bubbled up to the surface.

He pinned you to the wall, your body landing with a soft thud.

Then his lips were on yours. They were warm and soft. You could feel his fangs recede as you kissed him back. When you reach up to grasp at the closely cropped hair on the back of his neck, something weight you down. Before you could fully register what had happened, Klaus shackled your wrists and pulled away.

No magic. You lurked forward, as if trying to reclaim the phantom heat Klaus provided. You blinked rapidly, trying to get your bearings. The heavy manacles tipped out weight, so had to step back.

You shouted his name, but your voice broke before you could finish. You searched his eyes for a reason, any reason.

“Klaus!” You called out again. He didn’t say a word.

The shock was gone and anger rushed through you. You raised your hands and tried to bring them back down. Klaus caught every single one of your wild swings—he moved mechanically. Detached.

There was no fire, no fight. He let you keep on, and you did. Klaus never said a word. He was in complete control.

Tired of fighting, you sunk to the floor and glared at him. No more looking away, Klaus was going to see his betrayal all over your face. You stared him down, and huffed.

He squatted and held his hand over your cheek. You bristled. He had no right to touch you. Not anymore.

“Elijah will release you in the morning.” He told you as he rose to his full height. He pulled you up with him.

“What do you need me out the way for?” You ground out.

The hybrid only dropped his gaze. He was going to do something else stupid, tonight.

“You wanted neutrality, this is what it looks like, love.” Something about his tone broke your heart.

He was disregarding you for whatever was going on in his head. The anger came back and swelled inside of you. Raw power hummed through your veins.

“I’m a grown ass woman! You think you can push me aside because you feel like it! You can’t!” You shouted at him, becoming louder after every word.

You were shaking as you chanted. No more holding back. You were done playing nice.

The shackles clattered to the floor. Klaus watched them fall wordlessly. His shocked expression didn’t make him back down, though. He drew his lips in a hard line and stared at you with watery eyes.

You stepped back into your apartment and picked up your drink. You chugged it down in one gulp.

Maybe the hybrid’s kindness towards you was in the moment, and the moment had passed. He let you keep your shop the way it was. You should’ve accepted his offer and went quietly into the night.

“Don’t ever come to me for anything, you selfish bastard.”

Klaus wasn’t the only one who could hurt.

#klaus mikaelson x poc!reader #klaus mikaelson x black!reader #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson #the originals #tvd fanfiction

100 notes · View notes

no-whump-on-main · 4 years ago

Text

Apartment 307-7 (This is for Your Own Good)

this is for your own good-requested by @magpiewhump

TWs: Heavy chapter overall. Creepy, sadistic whumper, noncon nonsexual touching, branding, victim-blaming, passing thought of emeto but none actually shown, thoughts of death

Clyde started to worry about Elora when she still hadn’t woken back up at six p.m when he got back from work, over ten hours after she passed out due to him completely exhausting her magic. He walked in and checked on her the very moment after he put his things down on the kitchen counter, and there she was, still passed out, curled up on her side like a little terrified animal. He left, deciding to let her sleep some more-he was concerned, of course, but not terribly so. She did seem rather drained when he left. He would’ve loved to spend the evening with her, but he resolved to show a little sympathy and let her sleep. Still, he checked on her about every hour, only to find her still passed out in the exact same position every single time. He began to get irritated when she still wasn’t up around eleven-he just wanted to sleep, at that point, but he was worried she’d wake up at any moment and start causing a scene. Screaming, trying to escape, doing whatever it was she did-hell, he didn’t know. She was unpredictable.

He still didn’t even know what he thought about her. He was fascinated, of course, by her magic, by her mere life-that’s why he had to have her-but he still didn’t know how he felt about her as a person. She was awfully stubborn and had terrible language for a young woman, but she was beautiful, exquisitely so, especially when her eyes were watery with tears and she had that determined expression despite the fear he knew was crippling her.

God, he just wanted to break her. He wanted to study her first and foremost, of course, but as a side project of sorts, he wanted to see that iron resolution dissolve, just like that, because of him.

He decided to head to sleep, freshening up in his master bath before heading to sleep. His room was nothing special; it smelled like a mix of dirty bath mats and moth balls, and all it really had for furniture was a desk on the verge of collapsing, a mattress on the floor, and boxes that still hadn’t been unpacked despite him having moved in over a decade ago.

But that night, he went to sleep happy, unbothered by the chaos and dirty apartment and his seemingly menial life. Because he knew what to do. He had direction, for once. Elora brought him that. She was like a quest, a puzzle to solve, and he’d had a eureka moment. To break her, he’d have to teach her that she wasn’t her own anymore. That she was his, because clearly, she’d been struggling with the concept.

And he knew exactly how to do it.

When Elora woke up, she felt like she was having the worst hangover she'd ever experienced, multiplied by ten. She was dizzy, her mouth was dry, and a pounding headache had settled in the back of her skull, each throb feeling like a firework exploding inside her head.

It was pitch black, not a single ray of light coming in from the crack underneath the door, so she assumed that it was either the middle of the night or early morning. That meant she slept for, god-eighteen, twenty hours? That was probably half of why she felt like shit. Draining her body of all the energy it had like that was both excruciatingly painful and awfully exhausting. It was also decidedly horrible for her body-she was never supposed to work herself like that. Hell, she wasn’t sure how she even survived exerting that much.

At the very least, she had some time to herself. It was nice to be alone for a while, to recoup between sessions of vicious torture.

She sat back against the wall, staring up at the pitch black ceiling. Time was fuzzy, but she thought it was...Tuesday, now? So her mom certainly knew she was gone, and she had told the police, and they were looking for her.

She hoped. She just-she really, really hoped that someone was coming for her soon. Before anything worse happened, while she could still come back from it. While she could still come home alive, herself, shaken, but herself.

She ended up dozing off for a few minutes and waking up again a few times as the hours passed by, leaving her alone with her thoughts. She knew exactly when the sun was rising; the crack underneath the door slowly began to get less dark, going from black, to an inky gray, to a pale orange, and finally, to real yellow light. A little sliver of a sunrise. Even after just a couple of days, she missed the sun. The bathroom was windowless, and that alone made it suffocating. She’d do anything, pay any amount of money in the world, just to go outside, see a sunrise, and breathe. Just breathe, for a moment, just catch her breath.

As excited as she wanted to be about the taste of a sunrise, all she felt was dread. Every morning she’d been awake to see the pattern, so far, she’d noted that he came in just after sunrise.

So she only had a few minutes, then.

She just hoped that he would make the pain brief.

She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply when she heard his footsteps pattering down the hallway, exhaling when she heard the doorknob turn.

He flicked the light switch on and the sudden brightness hurt her eyes, so much so that she quickly wrenched them shut. And when he spoke, it felt like his voice was booming, much louder than it actually was. She wanted to cover her ears, but resisted the urge, much too scared to take out another sense and be so vulnerable to him.

He acknowledged her reactions with a hum, tapping his foot impatiently.

“Jeez, you’ve been out for a while. It’s about time you woke up. What’s the face for? You okay?”

Elora shook her head, replying bitterly. “Not supposed to use that much magic. Feels kinda like a really bad hangover.” He always smelled like cheap beer. Maybe he’d have some sympathy for that.

“Mh. You’ll be fine. We have things to do today.”

Elora opened her eyes, at that point, looking over at him despite the deep burning sensation in her eyes. He was holding something behind his back, out of her view.

“I-I’ll do what you want,” she said shakily. “Whatever magic shit. I don’t care. We can-h-how about we just act symbiotically, huh? I’ll do whatever you want and you just don’t hurt me. Easy deal on your end, really.”

The man scoffed. “Funnily enough, I actually don’t need anything from you today. Just for you to stay still and be a good girl. I’ve got something to teach you.”

Her throat felt like it was coated in honey. She wanted to spit back that the last thing she would ever do is be a good girl, but she couldn’t form words. It was hard to breathe properly. She knew she was panicking. What did he mean?

Casually, he revealed what was behind his back. It looked like a big pen, with a long cord on one tapered end and a thick, linear metal tip on the other. He plugged the cord into the wall and set it down. Dimly, Elora wondered where she’d seen a weird pen like that. She knew it seemed familiar, it was for crafts, but she couldn’t remember quite what it was for. She blinked, her panic slowing her thoughts-

Woodburning. It was used for woodburning.

Her mouth dropped open in shock, her eyes instantly tearful as she looked on in pure horror, knowing what was going to be done to her. Clyde basked in her terror, grinning as he watched realization and fear strike her.

She was frozen, shocked into silence, so he took the opportunity to speak first. “You seem to be having a hard time with the concept that you’re mine. And what better way to mark that something is yours other than putting your name on it? That’s how I get my coworkers to stop eating my tuna salad from the community fridge.” He stopped to laugh at his own joke. No one liked tuna salad but him. His coworkers would never touch it. Elora looked utterly terrified. He didn’t care a bit, and went on. “But of course, you don’t need to know who I am. You don’t need my name. All you need to worry your pretty little head about is being good for me, got it? So what better than to teach you than to just mark you as mine?”

As panicked as she was, Elora suddenly went into survival mode, no longer able to just stand there and wait to be hurt. “NO!” she screamed. “No, please, I c-can learn! Please, you don’t need to do that. I-I-I told you, I’ll do what you want today, please!”

The man grinned, wagging his pointer finger at her. “Uh-uh-uh. We’re past that, little lark. You already showed me that you don’t know who you belong to when you so rudely refused to do as I told you with the plant and adamantly denied to heal yourself up until I made you.”

He stepped towards her, and she screamed, scrambling back to the other side of the bathtub. It didn’t do much, of course; he was still able to grab her just as easily. She kept screeching, and she fought, she fought tooth and nail, scratching, kicking, trying to bite him, but nothing worked. She was already getting weaker by the day.. He managed to unlock her handcuffs and lift her out of the tub within a minute, completely stopping her desperate fight when he threw her down on the hard tile by the sink where the pen was plugged into an outlet, knocking the breath out of her. She sputtered and coughed, trying to roll on her side, but before she could, he stopped her, straddling her waist, pinning her legs down with his own, and both her arms with his left, pulled tightly across her chest, his elbow digging into her right arm, keeping it in place, and his hand holding down her left. With his right hand, he grabbed the woodburner, the cord just long enough to reach down to the floor.

He frowned as he looked down at her screaming, thrashing form, then put the burner down. For a moment, Elora thought she was free. She thought she was free, she thought he was safe, she thought he reconsidered, she thought he wouldn’t do it.

“Woops. Forgot a step. You’re too damn much of a fighter.” Instead of letting her go like she wished, he fumbled to unbutton all three buttons on the top of her polo shirt. She felt like vomiting the entire time his fingers brushed against the skin of her chest, undoing the buttons painfully slowly, one by one. She shivered, but the room felt hot.

He picked up the burner again. “This is for your own good,” he said, his voice gruff and firm. He pulled her unbuttoned shirt to his right and brought the hot metal tip down upon her left collarbone.

The agony was blinding. She saw pure white as she screamed, keening, much louder than she had been before. She dimly felt the pain move up against her skin as the woodburner stroked upwards, then down diagonally, then up again diagonally, then back down. It left a trail of searing, red-hot pain. M. Mine.

Three more letters to go, and she already felt more blinding pain than she thought was possible.

Clyde frowned at her screaming, briefly putting the woodburner to the side, exchanging the pain for a gentle touch, softly running his hand through her hair. She continued screaming and tried to wiggle away from his hand, yet he ignored her blatant discomfort.

“Shhh,” he whispered. “Quiet, my darling, it’ll be over soon.”

His words were far from comforting, though her screams did stop for all but a moment. They continued when he brought the woodburner back to her skin, drawing out an I, three torturous burning strokes. She thought she might pass out, might vomit, might die, the pain was so bad.

“Halfway there,” he said gently, when he finished burning the I into her skin. His voice had become gentle, kind. She didn’t understand it. “Shh, you’re alright. I had to do this, you know. This is for you. To help you learn.”

She shook her head madly, tears falling down her face and onto the tile floor. “Stop,” she croaked, her voice breaking. “Please, stop.”

He seemed genuinely apologetic. Maybe this was too much for him, too. Or maybe it was all an act. Elora couldn’t tell.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. We’re halfway done already. It would be strange to stop here, with half of a word, no?”

And with that, he went on, with just as much brutal carelessness for her pain.

N. She had been switching between staring up at the ceiling blankly and squeezing her eyes shut while he branded her, but she was looking up for this letter, watching the ceiling spin, watching black spots dot her vision, watching as she slipped in and out of consciousness for a few seconds at the time.

She couldn’t even say that she was getting used to it. It hurt just as much now, a minute later, as it had when he started.

The smell started to catch up with her halfway through the N. It was awful, the overwhelmingly sickening scent seeping in and filling her nostrils. She couldn’t escape it. She had to breathe, had to inhale the scent of her burning flesh. There was no choice.

Just as the last upward stroke of the N danced like fire across her skin, the man’s hand carded through her hair again, his fingers rubbing her scalp kindly.

“Almost done, honey. Almost done. You’re doing great.”

She didn’t even have the strength to shake her head. She wasn’t his honey, she wasn’t doing great, this wasn’t for her, it was for him, he was crazy-

Her screams began to die out, her throat burning and raw, begging for air. They turned to weak, sobs, her expression twisted with agony.

E. A stroke up, one to the side at the top of that, another sidestroke in the middle, another at the bottom. She started to feel like she was up on the ceiling, floating. She couldn’t handle this.

What she felt was more than pain. She didn’t know how to describe it. But it was much, much worse than any sort of pain she knew. The burning agony mixed with the scent of her charred flesh in the air, the sensation of the man’s weight on top of her, his hand in her hair, his fingers unbuttoning her shirt combined to create the the most horrific thing she’d ever felt.

It was a new kind of misery. Something much worse than she even knew existed.

She gasped for air as the man slowly eased off of her, her chest finally able to expand properly. He let her arms go first, as a trial. She didn’t make any attempt to retaliate, so he got off of her legs, too, and stood. She laid there, half disassociated. The pain was too much for her to bear. Even though the woodburner was no longer directly on her skin, it still hurt just as much as when the hot metal had been making direct contact with her collarbone. It was still pure, utter agony.

“Remember,” the man’s voice boomed. “This was for you. You chose this, with your actions.”

She didn’t shake her head no, but she didn’t agree, either. She stayed perfectly still, right where she was, sobbing. She just sobbed. That was all she could do.

“Ice,” she begged weakly, her voice hoarse from her screams.

The man chuckled. “Oh, no, sweetie, no can do. Don’t want you getting any sort of first aid. I need it to scar as much as possible. That was the whole point.” He chuckled. Another sob ripped from her throat, and he began to feel slightly guilty.

“Here. I can do something for you. He opened the bathroom door and left, the burning flesh scent thankfully beginning to waft out. Elora knew that she should have gotten up and ran for the door the moment he left. She knew that she was missing what was probably her only chance to escape.

But she couldn’t make herself do it. She couldn’t make herself move.

He was back a few moments later, with a pillow and a blanket from his bed. He lifted her head up and placed the pillow beneath beneath it, shielding it from the hard tile. He draped the blanket over her body, smoothing it down around her with care. She’d be disgusted by his falsified kindness if she weren’t so distracted by the pain.

“And I’ll let you stay uncuffed for a while. I’m sorry, Elora, I really am, but this was the only way. You and I both know that. I’ll have to call out of work, can’t trust you alone and unchained. But that’s fine. I’ll just stay right here until you’re feeling a little better.”

He slid down the wall and sat across from her. All he could see on her face was pure sorrow. She didn’t sleep, despite the pillow and blanket; she wasn’t tired. She just hurt. She lay there, limp, weak, and crying, the pillowcase soaking up her silent tears as she pressed her mouth into a tight, thin line.

Clyde stared at her for several minutes then sighed and lit a cigarette. They’d be here for a while.

Tags: @exploringspaceinpyjamas

@badthingshappenbingo

19 notes · View notes

shhhlikeme · 5 years ago

Note

Ok! So tanaka, kageyama, tusukishima, and asahi are all pretty scary boys at first glance. So I was wondering how they would react to a new 2nd year manager not being fazed by them at all (maybe she has alot of older brothers or something) and calling them cute. Love you writing. I didn't see a character limit so if this is to many feel free to cut some 😘😘

Thank you!!!! I loved this one it was so fun to write so please request again :) Hope you enjoy it 🧝🏾‍♀️😘

———————————

“Scary” Karasuno Volleyball Boys Meet Their Maker!

Tsukishima | Asahi | Kageyama | Tanaka x Reader

———————————

You and Kiyoko used to be friends in elementary school because her mom and both of your dads were in the military so you’d often be the only two young kids at events and ceremonies

She would only come sometimes but you would be an active member of your dads military boot camp year after year, and seeing Kiyoko, another girl sometimes was always awesome

The two of you became pretty good acquaintances and one summer at boot camp she would occasionally show you the ropes when you said you were interested in joining the 200m hurdle

While you two weren’t close, you followed eachother on all social media platforms and would sweetly comment “😍😍😍” on eachother’s posts

When she got injured you made sure to send her a text of endearment and she thanked you

Y’all were those type of friends

So that’s why you weren’t too surprised when you received a text from her while painting your nails one night in your room

Kiyoko had kindly asked you if you could take over her duties as Karasuno’s volleyball manager while she left to Greece with her family tomorrow for a wedding

She would be gone for 2 weeks and apparently the girl she had gotten too replace her just backed out completely at the last minute

You thought about it, realizing you had nothing to do other than train your team of female spartan racers, before replying ‘sure! 🤷🏾‍♀️’ and asked her what you needed to do

Kiyoko prepared you to the best of her ability, sending you a long scrolling text of the job. She said that although she wouldn’t be able to introduce you, the the boys are super kind even though they can get a little rowdy

A little nervous but wanting to help nonetheless, you agreed and confirmed the favour once again

The next day the boys had a practice and you had a little bit of difficulty finding their gym. You had gone to the girls vball team gym first and the captain pointed you in the right direction

When you approached what must be boys’ gym from outdoors you saw a blonde girl about your size scarily jutting around the outside of the gym like she was being stalked for murder

She was clutching a bag tightly

You guessed that maybe this wasn’t the gym, but you could have sworn this is where that team captain told you to go

You held your ground a few feet away because she was obviously terrified and you didn’t want to scare her more than she already was. You could hear her mumbling under her breath things like ‘they’re going to kill me’ ‘I’m too little to die’ ‘so strong, so tall. So very tall.’ ‘Attack on Titan is me. I am attack on Titan. I am MARCO!’

Who is Marco.....? You questioned in your mind.

Your military senses peaked as you changed modes to enemy approaching preparation.

You didn’t know you had these senses, but your dads would be so proud

The petite blonde was twitching and fiddling her hands while her eyes darted around.

She also had been so wrapped up in her terror to notice you there watching her. Seeing a cute mini side ponytail in her short blonde hair reminded you of a toddler’s hairstyle and you immediately felt the need to protect her. Your dads had taught you as much, and your years of self-defence class and borderline military training by copying the guys at your dads camps had built you quite the esteem. You knew immediately that you were going to save her.

“Excuse me?”

“AH!” The girl screamed and jumped 4 feet in the air when you spoke. You held your hands up in surrender, though you remained on guard for her pursuer.

“Hey, hey! I really didn’t mean to scare you. Are you okay? Is something wrong?”

With bugged eyes, the girl explained to you that she had been studying in the gym by herself when she heard a bunch of gang men approach. According to her they were huge, threatening and super scary so she scrambled for cover but when she tried running through the door she had bumped into their leader who had a bunch of piecings, a rockstar dye-job who was smoking a cigarette. Before he could beat her up for crashing into him she picked up her bag and and ran away. Come to find out she had taken his bag by mistake because it was the same colour and size and she didn’t mean to! Now she is being hunted down by the leader’s big scary hunchmen who will literally pummel her when they find her! They’ve been calling after her saying threats like ‘We just want the bag, we promise not to hurt you’ but she’s heard that in scary movies and apparently that’s what they want her to think before they hurt her!!!

Before the girl (who you were able to get her to introduce herself as Yachi from class 1-5) fainted induced by anxiety, you stopped her.

You were pissed. How could big tall men be okay with trying to hurt a sweet first year girl like this?!

The world was evil.

She couldn’t be much smaller than you, but she had no where near your combat expertise.

You held your hand out for Yachi to hand you the bag.

She handed it over with trembling hands

“Where did you last see them?” You demanded just like your dads would have.

Yachi immediately freaked out, claiming that you’re just as small as her and they would crunch you like a potato chip!

Slightly insulted, you managed to give her a sweet smile and ask again.

She pointed in the direction of the outdoor vending machines near the gym.

“I’ll get your bag Yachi don’t worry. Do you want to wait here for me or do you feel safe coming with? It would be great if you were able to actually point them out, because there are a lot of boys here by the school not to mention I can better protect you when you’re close by.”

Yachi gave you a look as if she was seeing the stars for the first time. She was in complete awe of you because you emitted a mass amount of strength.

The energy around you was comparable to that of a decorated military Five Star General who had just been challenged to a game of laser tag.

Seeing Yachi visibly gulp, she agreed to come with you because chances are she’d be able to call for help louder than you and she held onto your arm as you walked.

She hid behind your shoulder, afraid

Looking around, you spotted a group of 4 large guys in the distance by the vending machine— just like Yachi pointed out

Without your glasses on, you couldn’t make them out very well from this distance

Yachi almost squeezed a bruise into your arm which confirmed that was indeed the guys that were awaiting her decease, she said

There was a tall one with dark hair that had a permanent scowl on is face who was staring at the vending machines options like a psycho. The smallest one (who was still very tall) looked tough—must be the braun because he had quite the biceps and his hair was shaven like the boys in your dad’s training camps. One of them looked like a grown man with a man bun that really should be signing off on big stock deals or something. The giant one was blonde with glasses but he appeared to be the verbal slicer—since you could see his mouth mumble something to the military looking one, who flinched like he had been physically stabbed through the chest.

You had to admit, you could see why Yachi was scared of them...a little

Straightening your shoulders so to seem a little bit taller, you took a deep breath and stalked towards these bullies

You were ready to give them a piece and a half of your mind

You would rip them a new one like they deserved

And if it got physical, you were more than equipped to handle them due to your years of training

As you approached, the boys noticed the bag you held and their eyes lit up like they’d just been saved

They started toward you making Yachi gasp.

You cracked your knuckles in preparation

But... when you got closer to them enough to make out their faces, something Kiyoko explained to you got thrown to the forefront of your memory..... and then you realized.

Wait a second.....

“There you are, uhh... small person. You took our coaches bag!” Exclaimed the one with defined biceps.

The small blonde girl behind you let out a shriek and tried to book it. You held onto her arm now as she screamed bloody murder, begging the 4 boys not to kill her because she had a single mother at home who needed her. The boys tried to explain their reasoning over her screams which only made things more chaotic! You gave the four boys a look of death to shut up and they did.

You patiently waited for toddler girl to chill.

“Uh Yachi??”

“Y-y-y-ye-ye-yes?”

“You said these were the assailants you were running away from?”

“Mhm. Don’t look them in the eye!” She shut hers tightly.

You smirked, officially letting your guard down. Now you remembered everything Kiyoko sent you in that text, including who-was-who on the team, what they looked like, and what each player specifically needed managerial-wise.

“Is it Tanner? No, Tanaka from my year, Asahi 3rd......and those two—- Tsukishima Kei and Kageyama Tobio, right? They are in your year..... they’re all Karasuno volleyball players.”

Yachi looked dumbfounded.

“Volleyball players...........................of doom?”

You shook your head, cupping Yachi’s shaking hands in yours. You gave this girl who reminded you of a toddler the kindest smile you could muster.

“I’ve never officially met these guys but Kiyoko has told me lots about them. I do see them bickering in the hallways a lot though, and it’s adorable. They are totally and completely harmless.”

“Harmless?” Yachi repeated you as if she’d never heard the word before.

“Well, I wouldn’t say it in such a de-masculine manner......” Tsukishima deadpanned, irritated by the fact that you spoke of them like they had the strength of a group of newborn goldfish.

Tanaka felt the same way. He mumbled “We do harm on the court! And just because you’re a pretty girl doesn’t mean you can say that we aren’t tough—“

Tsukki told him to shut up before he scared the toddler girl again.

Kageyama drank his little milk carton, barely listening to the commotion as Asahi, silent in the back, was about to start bawling. He was just so happy to be called harmless instead of monster by someone so much smaller than him his heart was going to explode 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Luv him

“Yep! Harmless.” You chirped, eyes twinkling at Yachi. You reassured her some more. “Total softies. You have nothing to worry about! Kiyoko told me that once on the bus ride home from a game she played a movie on the bus......and in the end Kiyoko counted all of them crying to the wedding scene in Princess and the Frog.”

“Hey now—“ Tanaka yelled, red in the face from anger but mostly humiliation. You looked over at the boys and noticed they were all pretty red. Tsuki had actually turned away to totally hide his face, starting toward the gym without so much as a goodbye.

“Brat.” He muttered. The boys followed with their tails between their legs.

“See? They couldn’t even deny it.” You smiled at Yachi. She visibly calmed down. “They’re just a bunch of cute little crows😊.”

Tsukki has returned with a scowl that didn’t scare either of you this time. He held out his hand expectantly.

“May we have our coach’s bag back, now? I trust you two can find your way back to Snow White the other 5 dwarves in one piece, correct?”

Ouch. You winced at his short person joke. Wow, Kiyoko was right about Kei’s stinging verbal jabs.

But Psh. You were a black belt. You could handle military men. You could even beat some of them in an arm-wrestle sometimes.

So you definitely weren’t afraid of any volleyball boys, no matter how badly this cute tall one’s jabs stung.

You smiled at Tsuki who didn’t return it in the slightest. You moved to hold out the bag in front of you for him to take, but low enough so he’d have to lean down to retrieve it.

When he went to grab the bag, you expertly maneuvered it out of his grasp before taking his cheek between your fingers in a tight squeeze. So gullible, this one. You had him trapped, just like you would a toddler.

“I’ll bring it to coach Ukai myself cutie patootie.” You gave him a sickeningly sweet smile. He stared at you with surprised eyes before you continued. “After all, we’ll be getting to know each other pretty well as temp-manager and coach. Don’t you think?” The King of Passive Aggression’s eyes widened in shock behind his adorable glasses. You released his cheek from your grasp.

“Now get in the gym, soldier. You can introduce me to the rest of the team’s cuties and tell them that Karasuno’s new babysitter is here!”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu sfw #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu funny stories #haikyuu humour #haikyuu funny moments #tsukishima x reader #kageyama tobio #hitoka yachi #tanaka x y/n #tsukishima x you #karasuno #crows

236 notes · View notes

mostly-marvel-musings · 4 years ago

Text

A Mere Mortal - Chapter Five

A/N: This story is based on Landlord Vampire Fic Frenzy hosted by the amazing @just-the-hiddles. The second last chapter of this series! Yay Feedback’s appreciated as always! :))

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Vampire! Bucky Barnes x Vampire! Loki x Human! Reader

Word count: 2043

Warnings: Foul language, murder description, mostly angst.

Tags: @buckybarnesplumwhore @ladyacrasia @tcc-gizmachine @alexakeyloveloki @rogerrhqpsody

Taglists open! Send me an ask if you wish to be tagged in future chapters.

...

You’d had enough. Bear was driving you insane with his persistent howling and barking. For such a small pup he was quite loud. Groaning, you turned on your side hoping to block the noise out.

Maybe it’s a phase. Don’t they start teething or something at this age?

You thought you’d ignore him and eventually he would keep quiet and go back to sleep, but something made you get out of the warmth of your bed, down the stairs and flick the light on in the living room. Bear was standing by the front door, staring it down as if it were an enemy. Huffing, you went closer.

“What is it buddy? Bad dream?” you leaned down to give him a scratch but he backed away; instead trotted up to the door and began scraping it with his front paws.

“You want to go for a walk now? Its 4:00 am and freezing cold. Come on now back to sleep.” You turned to switch the lights off again when Bear grabbed your pajama bottoms and tugged on them.

“What the hell Bear! We cannot go out now. Enough.” Irritated at this point, you picked him up and took him upstairs to let him sleep in your bed. Maybe he’d calm down then.

Once inside, you slid inside the still warm bed with the puppy and cuddled him close, he was surprisingly pacified at that time. He scrambled around a little bit before snuggling in, his rapid breathing gradually began lulling you back to sleep. Though it was short-lived.

Soon the quiet of the room was broken by Bear’s yapping right beside your ear. Angry at this point, you threatened to lock him in a room, though you could never do such a thing. He sat beside your bedroom window and looked out into the darkness. Following his gaze, you peered out to see what’s got him so riled up.

You saw a blurry dark figure laying on the ground on the far end of the street. The hairs on the back of your neck stood in alarm as you squinted to see clearly.

Were they unconscious? Or worse? Should you call the police?

Deciding the latter was the logical option, you got your phone and dialed 911 and waited for in your living room for a car alarm to be heard. You weren’t planning on standing in the dark out there alone.

Upon hearing cars in the distance, you pulled on a sweater and a hat, carried Bear in a little blanket and went out to the possible crime scene.

As you got closer, your heart rate picked up, Bear’s barking returned and you could sense something was horribly wrong. One of the officers saw you approaching and walked towards you.

“Do you live around here ma’am?” he asked looking at you warily.

“Yes, right down the street. I was the one that called you. My dog kept barking endlessly and I saw a figure on the ground. What happened?” you asked trying to peak behind him where the figure still laid, lifeless.

“I’m afraid it’s an animal attack. A brutal one. This woman was dead when we arrived. Her head was about ten feet away from her body.” He said matter-of-factly.

Your eyes went wide as he described the scene as if it were a routine weekday for him. You stepped around him, still in shock, to see who the woman was. To your horror, it was Jenny. Jenny who served you food at the grill on your very first day here; Jenny who was always so warm and kind towards you whenever you visited her.

She lay there on the cold ground, decapitated. Her mouth agape in shock, her eyes grey, lifeless, and what looked like scratch marks all over her severed neck and shoulder region. All this, and not an drop of blood was to be seen.

That was odd, to say the least. Judging by the intensity of the attack, there should’ve been a pool of blood right? Unless those freaky legends were all true. It couldn’t be, could it? Body drained completely of blood? What animal does that? Your detective alter ego was hard at work at this point.

“I can escort you home miss. We’ll do an inspection of the woods for any signs of animals. It’s not safe out here.” The officer broke you out of your mental investigation of the scene.

Agreeing, you let the officer walk you home, still in disbelief that you had just witnessed such a terrible yet odd scene. You were in shock.

Placing Bear down once you were inside, you walked in the kitchen, dazed, and got a glass of water. Bear following you closely, sat right at your feet as you leaned on the island counter, and looked up at you concerned.

“I forgive you for waking me up.”

…

You woke up that morning with a pounding headache and your hyper puppy dancing around the bed and licking your face.

Stepping under the shower, you recalled last night’s or rather, this morning’s events. The sight of Jenny’s lifeless body without a drop a spilled blood filled your mind with equal amounts of panic and curiosity. Mind immediately jumping to Bucky’s story from the other night.

Bucky! You could talk to him about the incident. You hadn’t spoken to him since the little make out session at his house. Sure not much time had passed, plus you had just witnessed a mysterious death.

Sam’s words echoed in your head at that moment. Creepy town.

After a heavy breakfast, you fed the dog and stepped out heading towards the library. The change in weather was quite evident as the leaves had started to fall and your breath was visible even during the day as well. You were sure you heard leaves crunch a few feet behind you but you didn’t stop to look, in fact you picked up your speed and jogged to the library.

“Ah (Y/N) my dear, how nice to see you again.” Frank’s kind voice came from his desk on your right as you entered the library.

“Good morning Frank. Did you hear about Jenny’s death?” you replied, immediately getting on the subject. You saw him get shifty-eyed for a little before a sympathetic smile donned his aging face.

“Ah yes. Terrible animal attack. You be careful when stepping out at night, my dear.” He replied hurriedly making you wonder if he’s memorized that response.

Not asking any further questions because he said he was busy looking at the logs, you made your way to the usual spot by the window and opened up a dusty copy of Dewsbury Legends & Myths.

You were lost in the book, not noticing a figure approach and sit right across from you, until he cleared his throat.

You looked up to find Loki peering at you intently with a slight smirk adorning his thin lips. As if a hunter would look at its prey who has absolutely no chance of escape.

“Hello love.” His smooth accented velvety voice enveloped your senses with intrigue and trepidation. He was leaning close, a bit too close for your liking. Your body automatically straightened back, going as far as away from the man without getting up.

“Loki. What brings you here?” keeping your tone polite yet unyielding you held his gaze.

“Oh you know me, Frank is a dear friend. And you are too.” He added with a full grin this time. Something about that grin sent a shiver down your spine. You wanted to get away from his presence, and yet you couldn’t get yourself to physically stand to leave; as if he had put you under a spell.

“How’s James? Haven’t seen him in a while. You two have gotten quite close it seems.” He interjected your train thoughts, his tone dripping with disdain.

You remained silent. Somehow you knew this wasn’t the end of his queries.

“Sad what happened with Jenny, you must’ve heard. Such a poor thing. Pathetic.” He said, gaze piercing at this point as if trying challenging you to speak the obvious at this point.

Your mouth went dry as your mind grasped the idea of what Loki had just implied. It was him. He did it. He killed her. He had bitten her, drained her body of blood.

Him.

Was he a-?

In flight-or-fight mode you scrambled to gather your things to get the hell away from him, of course he stopped you.

“Come on darling, it is only just getting interesting. I haven’t even told you the best part yet” His calm demeanor frightened you all the more.

“Since you’re so keen on knowing our town history, has James been telling you the real one or the one about Morwenna and Lucas?” Loki said sitting back on the armchair, knowing you wouldn’t run away now. Not until he spills the whole truth anyway.

Your voice came out feeble and shaky as you asked him what he meant by the real story.

“Has James ever mentioned of his deceased sister? My guess is he hasn’t. Well (Y/N), Evelyn was James’s sister who died tragically in the woods.”

“Evelyn was Lucas’s sister.” The words just blurted out without your approval.

“There is no Lucas darling. James made it up. He’s been telling that story for decades.”

Decades?

“You’re lying.”

“Perhaps you should ask him yourself. He should be here any minute, wanting to ‘protect’ you from me.” Loki sneered, leaning forward again. You swore you could see his eyes turn dark.

As if on cue, the library door swung open and Bucky came charging in towards you. Your body felt released from invisible chains as you scrambled to stand up and backed away from the two men.

“(Y/N) I’ve been calling you, why didn’t you pick up? What’s he doing here?” he looked concerned as he scanned you before staring daggers at Loki.

“Nice to see you James. I’ve just been updating our darling (Y/N) on real Dewsbury history.”

Before he could answer, you interjected,

“What happened to your sister?” your voice shaking with fear as you began plotting your escape from the small library. Would it really work? Probably not. Would you still try? Yes.

“Don’t believe a word he says doll, I was worried about you.” Bucky started stepping closer as you moved further away, not knowing who to trust.

“That’s not an answer.”

“Look, let me take you home, we can talk then.” He tried to reason with you as he saw fear in your eyes.

“That’s not an answer either.”

All the while Loki sat back in the armchair, observing the drama unfold. The one that began because of him.

“She died. In the woods.” Bucky finally said, head bowed.

You knew deep down Loki’s words were true, though Bucky’s admission shocked you nonetheless. It was true. The legends, the myths. And you needed to get away from them at once.

You made a run for it as you closely avoided Bucky who could’ve easily stopped you, but didn’t. As you reached the door, his hand interrupted your actions. You didn’t even hear his footsteps follow you.

“Please let me explain.” He pleaded.

“You stay the fuck away from me.” Yelling, you pushed his hand away and opened the door, bolting towards your house.

You kept glancing back as you ran, looking to see if either of them were following you, they didn’t.

“(Y/N) please, I don’t want you to be afraid of me. I was protecting you.”

Of course he was standing right behind you.

Angry tears blurred your vision as you turned to face him, “I think I told you to stay away from me. Leave me alone. Please.”

Bear’s barks filled your ears as you heard him scratching at the front door, to come to your aid. You turned and opened the door, immediately your dog began growling in Bucky’s direction without stepping out of the house. He could probably sense Bucky wasn’t a human.

“(Y/N).” he said as a last attempt to get you to listen.

You of course, slammed the door, locked it shut and sank to the floor, crying.

…

95 notes · View notes

big1ron · 4 years ago

Text

The Venator “Resolute” had jumped right into a separatist trap. Somehow a virus infecting the main computer has scrambled the hyperspace jump coordinates, and now the companies on board were outnumbered and without reinforcements, deep in separatist space. A few last, desperate SOSs to nobody, and the ship was quickly overwhelmed with fire. The Resolute was going down. But not before each of the escape pods could be jettisoned.

————- Chapter Five: Waiting. -————

- I think this one may be short aswell, sorry for the wait I’ve just not been doing amazing. But it’s here! Sorry. -

“Sir, we’re receiving a transition from a separatist base somewhere near the Vinda system. Should we patch it though?”

“Vinda? That’s certainly strange. Patch it though, but don’t respond. Make sure they can’t trace us.”

The radio crackles to life, and there is a significant amount of static and interference, but the message can be made out. “Haha! Yes! Great! If you’re receiving this, this is ARC-5555 “Fives” of the five-oh-first. We’ve been shot down, though most of the escape pods launched. There should be a coordinates package sent with this transmission. And- Wait hardcase what are you doing....” the message pauses, something that sounds like a response in the background. “No! Don’t do that! Hey, stop!” Another pause “I literally AM the boss of you!” A longer pause this time “no, what does that have anything to do with anything at all.” A slight shorter pause, “no, that’s stupid! You’re literally not even making any sense.” “ NO, NO you’re just wrong. I do not have time for this. You’re just wrong. Now I’m trying to get us off this planet so shut up please.” He sighs. “Sending the coordinates now.” The transmission ends.

Obiwan snickers. “Well that certainly wasn’t droids. Forward that message, and the attached files to general koon please, Cody.”

“Yes sir” man is Cody glad the 212th doesn’t usually behave like that. He doesn’t envy Rex, but those troopers sure are entertaining. He’s definitely going to tease Rex about this later.

Wolffe received the translation and chuckled to himself. The 501st sure was something else. “General, we’ve been looking in the wrong place! They’re way off course.”

Plo koon nodded and pressed a button on his comm link. “All units return to carriers. Set our course for the Vinda system!” The general gave the orders, and the 501st was finally looking at a rescue.

“Hey master, I found a road!” Ahsoka had been dragging her bike in the low power ‘hover’ mode while they had been searching for a refuelling stop.

“Great job snips. Now which direction do you want to take?”

“Hmmm left.”

“Yeah I was thinking right too. Alright, let’s go.”

“You’re impossible sky guy.”

“Wait, with all due respect sir, this is a separatist planet. Won’t this path take us right into a separatist base of some kind?” Rex cuts in.

“What’s the matter captain? Afraid of a little action? Besides, these are separatist issue bikes, a separatist base is exactly what we need.” So General skywalker leads the group leftwards down the path, dragging his bike behind beside him.

Soon enough, they spot the refuelling station that the road leads to. The three of them dive to the tree line, even though any droids should have surely heard or seen them by now. There are two wrecked speeder bikes by the refuelling station and a few destroyed droids littered about. Rex dares leave their cover enter the small base down the main road.

“Looks like a few of the boys have already been here.”

“Or are still here. Look!” Anakin points to the window of the small command outlet tower, and though it’s shaded glass, Rex can make out the back of a troopers head and shoulders, no doubt leaning against the terminal inside. “Ahsoka and I will refuel the speeders. You go check it out.”

Anakin and ahsoka moved the destroyed speeders out of the way with the force before moving their own to the station, while Rex cautiously entered the command outlet. He paused in the small corridor between the main communications room (probably a droid charging outlet) and listed in before entering, just out of personal curiosity more than anything.

“Oh my godssss-“

“-no no, no no listen to me-“

“-no how did you even get that conclusion!? How does ‘cereal is a salad’ equate to ‘general grievous should be classified as a sauce?!’ And why do you think those two things true?!”

“Just LISTEN to me! Ok? Because general grievous has his organs in a sack right? And those organs are in a liquid, right? It’s like a sauce. And his robot suit is just a really fancy jar because it keeps it contained and-“

“GENERAL GRIEVOUS IS NOT A SAUCE”

“SHUT UP AND LET ME EXPLAIN! Listen! You’ve never even seen him. And the droids, they’re all controlled by chips right? And- hey wait the cereal is a salad thing was a completely different topic! But milk is like the dressing you put on the salad, cause it’s optional and-“

“HOW IS GENERAL GRIEVOUS A SAUCE”

As much as rex really does want to hear how hardcase ends up explaining this one, he doesn’t want to keep the general waiting much longer and he doesn’t want one of them to end up maimed over cyborg sauces. He enters the room and immediately a blaster bolt whizzes right by his ear.

“You missed. Also, you almost shot me.”

“Rex! You found us!” Fives holstered his blaster and practically jumped up out of the chair he was leaning back in

“See? Both plans worked out. We took the base and we found rex.” Hardcase stopped pacing.

“At ease” Rex said sarcastically, as neither of them had actually gone to attention. Not that he really minded, but still. “It’s good to see you two. And nice work taking the post. Did you get a signal out?”

“Yes, I think so. We made a connection with a republic flagship, but the communication was one way. If the officers were doing their job right, we can assume help is on the way.”

“That’s great then. ...may I ask if there was another trooper in the pod with you?”

Hardcase and Fives hung their heads and looked to the floor. Hardcase rocked back on his heels and began fidgeting with his hands. “It was Tup sir... we lost him. Got separated.”

“Oh. I see.” Tup was an independent enough trooper, Rex had hope that he would survive alone. But if he didn’t turn up soon he would no doubt be left behind. “Well, I’ll tell the generals. We’ll stay here until rescue arrives. As you were.”

“Why do you get to decide which direction we go?” Asked echo to jesse, who was at the head of the group still with dogma on his back.

“Because I’m the highest rank here, so I’m in charge.”

“But we have the exact same rank. And I’ve been an ARC trooper longer.”

“Yeah but I’ve been with the 501st longer. And I’m older”

“Yeah well I’m Rex’s favourite so I should be in charge.”

“YOU’RE not his favourite! I don’t think he has favourites. And if he did it would probably be Hardcase.”

“Hardcase?! Hardcase isn’t even an ARC trooper. And i got into ARC training way before you did, while being in the 501st for a way shorter time. Rex clearly likes me best, or at least better than you.”

“Well he’s left me in charge multiple times while he’s gone. Even when you and Fives are available. So he trusts me to lead more responsibly obviously.“

“Will you two just cut it out?” Interjects Coric at the same time as Kix’s “just shut up already!”

Echo stuck out his leg and tripped Kix, not to be denied this victory. Jesse dropped Dogma and put himself between his favourite vod and Echo. But before things could even start Coric shoved them both apart

“If you two can’t stop fighting about who’s in charge, then we’ll go by seniority and that would be me. So you two stop annoying each other and behave! Echo, there’s no reason for you to be so mean to Kix, Jesse consider Dogma a bit more will you? And if all four of you can’t just get along I swear to kark I will MAKE you! Do I make myself clear?!”

“Yes coric.” Echo and Jesse mumble.

Tup slowly opened his eyes. He must have passed out at some point during that nightmare. He had lost time, and he had no idea where he was or what direction he was facing. Right, he was headed towards the rising sun, but what time was it? He grabbed a nearby tree and used it to pull himself up. His head spun for a few seconds, but other than a mild headache the fruit seemed to have no lasting side effects. His chest plate was hanging half off and he was missing various other armour pieces. His hair was a mess. Full of knots and leaves. And his blaster was gone. Whatever. He was still alive and even if he was going to be left behind for the rest of his life, he wasn’t dead. This was all Fives and Hardcase’s fault. And when he saw them again he would let them know it.

He took a minute to fix himself up best he could, but he still looked like a wreck and his other armour pieces were nowhere in sight. He felt unsafe without his blaster, so he settled with a reasonably sized stick he found (somewhere around 5ft long) to replace it. Yes, he was 1000% going to die here, but he pressed on anyways.

36 notes · View notes

onyourzeus · 4 years ago

Text

• stress-free | kwp

ykcyj ➝ arskyh

title: stress-free pairing: kim wonpil (of day6) & you (she/her pronouns) genre: FLUFF, college!au words: 3.4k

author’s note: @pirimiritiddy requested a fic about wonpil, and here it is. it went on for longer than i previously planned, buuuuut. i hope it’s still okay aaaa

(this is the 1st time i’ve written something for wonpil so if i get his personality wrong, i do apologize. i am also a baby myday huhu)

this dot fic (bullet style) is part of the falling asleep on the bus scenario that i intend to write for each day6 member. check out the others: dowoon (currently only 2/5 completed)

any requests? check my pinned post if i’m accepting any at the moment, thanks!

wonpil hates his schedule for this winter term

who assigns a class that is only available at seven in the evening??

3 times a week

during THE WINTER

did he mention it’s a major lecture he’s required to take??

psychology of stress, more like

this class is giving him the kind of stress it is specifically warning its students about

anyway, what can he say. he chose this major, there’s only 1 more term after this one and then finally: graduation

it’ll be fine, he’ll live

thank the heavens they didn’t need to attend the first two meetings, but some reading material was provided

and was expected by the professor to have been read and reflected upon

the class is really living up to its name because when wonpil opened the pdf

it was 30 pages of tiny font sized sentences (for ants!) about the definition of stress and how it affects every part of the body yada yada yada

wonpil tried. he really tried

that is to say he fell asleep on his desk while going over the same 20th page of the document

if it weren’t for jae shaking him awake, he’d miss his first night class

it would’ve been nice… if only the professor didn’t take attendance (something about being generous enough to make the first 2 classes “free,” so everyone has an obligation to come in for the remainder of the semester)

great, he’s stuck freezing his ass off just walking to the bus stop alone

hopefully they turn the heater all the way up in the auditorium or else

the thousands spent in tuition would have literally been for nothing

overdramatic wonpil, can you blame him

he thinks about reading the remaining 10 pages on the bus, even if he knows nothing of value will be absorbed

he wants to tries anyway, he does feel a little bit refreshed from that impromptu nap

the bus has arrived, and it’s packed as usual; a lot of the students riding the shuttle are just yet to take off in the following stops

wonpil squeezes his way inside, 30 pages of stress psychology research gripped in both hands

“excuse me, sorry,” wonpil mumbles, eyeing for a spot to sit to make him comfortable

because once all the people standing up leave, it’s usually a race for the exit

he’ll never understand college students

finally, he sees an empty seat way in the back. there was a girl on one end and two other students who seem to be ready to get off on the right side

wonpil doesn’t mind sitting next to someone, but once those 2 are gone he’ll just scoot over to give the girl on the left some privacy

she seems very much in deep sleep anyway, wonpil wonders if her stop is coming or she’s riding to go to campus?

wonpil doesn’t have time to think about other people, it causes him unnecessary stress

once sat down, his eyes focus on the last page he left off of

the words register as gibberish in his brain, and with the bus moving so much it makes it even more difficult to follow along the paragraphs

wonpil takes in a deep breath, holds it in, and sighs very heavily

his patience is usually the best out of his friends, but this class is turning more and more into the psychology of how to get you stressed tf out instead

the bus nears its next stop, and the two people on his side stand up to leave, yes he can breathe normal air

however

hold on

his shoulder feels heavy

turning his head slightly, for some reason once the bus had stopped its engine the girl’s head had flipped over to lean against wonpil’s shoulder instead

oh no oh no oh no

his shoulders suddenly freeze, as if blasted with a ray gun filled with ice

it’s heavy and he can’t move, it’s numb and this girl’s hair is splayed all over his his sweater

and she

she smells of coffee, and wonpil inhales it in

it’s not foul or anything, but it’s definitely exuding notes of espresso bean and freshly roasted coffee

it makes wonpil feel a little more awake

but he still can’t move his shoulders, and suddenly he’s panicking because the bus started moving again and even though capacity has lessened by 80%

someone decided to sit on the other end of the row he’s at

so if he even attempts to move, he’ll still be seated next to someone

wonpil grumbles, lower lip jutting forward

something shifts

and he realizes he shook his shoulders a little bit with his frustration

“ah…” he exclaims inaudibly, panicking at the possibility that he had woken her up from her nap

wonpil tenses up, shoulders stiff and eyes peering at his side to see what she’s up to

she lifts her head just a few inches off of wonpil’s shoulder, and for a moment he’s relieved that maybe she realizes what’s going on

but wonpil only hears a soft yawn coming from her, and she returns to using his very rigid shoulder as her pillow during this bus ride

let’s just say that the next thirteen minutes was more stress-inducing than wonpil wanted it to be

right when the bus reaches the final stop (main campus), wonpil exerts any and all efforts he has to shake his shoulder, up and down, enough to elicit an awake response from this stranger

the moment he feels her let up, wonpil dashes through that bus door like there’s no tomorrow

he is greeted with the coldest wind hitting his face, and his shoulder feeling numb from all the.. pillow roleplaying it did, if you will

wonpil feels bad, borderline guilty for leaving her like that— what if she’s asleep until now?? he can almost hear soft snores from her end for a minute there, too, and it took so much of wonpil to resist chuckling at it while in panic mode simultaneously

suffice to say, he was not able to read the rest of the document

in wonpil’s defense, he had encountered it first hand — how stress overcomes one’s body and mind

he forces himself to focus on what’s ahead, as boring as it sounds

he enters the lecture hall with a few minutes so spare, deciding to sit in the back

the projector screens are big and wonpil is not about to take his chances of getting called on today

luckily enough, he finds a row with visibly no other student sitting around the area

shoulder feeling more alive, he comes back to his senses as well

he takes off his outer sweater as it had become toastier inside. he still had a couple layers beneath his clothes

as the professor starts talking, wonpil finds himself yawning a few times

he doesn’t know if the video playing on screen is boring him or the girl in the bus affected his sleepiness

suddenly he remembers the smell of coffee, and how that’d sound real good right about now

he slaps both of his cheeks lightly, trying to take him back in the zone of at least writing down important notes

he’s on the fifth bullet point of his note-taking when the door behind him opens abruptly

it wasn’t loud or disrupting to the whole class, virtually no one even batted an eye

but thats because they’re far from the door

and wonpil is literally ten feet away, so when he feels the cold suddenly hit his back he had to know the source of the sudden hit in temperature

the class hadn’t been going on for less than an hour, and there have been students coming in on the other end of the auditorium

so wonpil isn’t that surprised that another student has just arrived

he caught a glimpse of her hair, but that’s about it as wonpil goes back to his tedious notes

until the very same person scoots herself in wonpil’s row

he huffs under his breath, the illusion of some privacy now shattered

with a polite (semi-forced) smile, wonpil turns to the side to greet his classmate

again, wonpil becomes frozen in spot

kind of like when you feel a magnetic pull somewhere, you follow it

and then suddenly you see it from afar, not believing your eyes if it’s actually real; if it’s actually there

in wonpil’s case, he’s one seat away from her

recognizing the flow of her hair, but more importantly

that distinct scent of coffee beans from her clothes

this time, wonpil has a clear look on her face and he’s… speechless

his polite smile has turned into a look of awe, eyes glued towards her

she senses his gaze, turns to him and quickly bows down as a polite greeting

“sorry, but has the class been going on for a while?”

she speaks

“oh, um, what— what?”

“oh,” she looks confused, but rephrases her question, “what time did the class start? i had a hard time finding this lecture hall.”

she’s talking to him, not just leaning her head on his shoulder

“seven”

was all wonpil could say

“it started at 7? cool, i’m not that late then!” she cheers, grinning shyly. wonpil watches the way she puts a strand of hair tucked beneath her ear. she’s pulling out her laptop from her bag when she notices a pair of wide eyes still on her person

“is… is this seat taken?” she asks, and wonpil hasn’t even taken in the fact that this is the same person from the bus

“yes”

tongue-tied wonpil strikes again, blinking back his own obliviousness to her question

“i mean— no, now it is, by you. you’re sitting there, um, i— feel free to sit wherever you want��

he’s scrambling for his words, flustered cheeks heating up amidst the warmth of the room

she just nods her head in understanding, and wonpil finally realizes he’s been staring at her direction for longer than he should have

“STRESS”

the professor verbalized into her mic which causes wonpil to look to the front all of a sudden

right, right. he’s at a lecture. what’s gotten him so fidgety and embarrassed and now all that he’s pretending to type on his google doc is

sdfjfjdfhshllsghgjghsh

just so he looks busy next to the girl who fell asleep on him on the bus

was there any point in preoccupying his mind with thoughts of her, and her head resting on him? no it’s stupid, wonpil knows this.

people do it all the time, by accident, due to exhaustion, they don’t mean a thing by it

but wonpil is curious, and this is going to kill him. for sure

so he peeks at her again, and like a normal, decent student that she is (compared to wonpil at this point let’s be real) her hands are busy hand writing whatever the professor was saying

meanwhile, wonpil continues to sdfjskgnglddfjs his way to a passing B in this class

even in this large, spacious lecture hall he can still take in her scent

maybe it’s a new perfume that’s up and coming, that’s why it smells so strongly on her

oh! he can ask that? hey, do you mind sharing what line of perfume you’re using? it smells really good

it sounds like a common question, right? i mean if you wear strong fragrances you’re bound to be asked a question about it

he’s about to ask, he really was so ready to ask, what was he gonna lose? his dignity?

over a simple, inquisitive question?

“and now before we go on a twenty minute break, it’s time to introduce yourself to the person sitting close to you”

...

why do college professors have to do this?

wonpil bites his lip, at this point in time he’s a senior who’s fed up with ice breakers like this. if it were any other person sitting next to him, in front of him, behind him— he would just go with his usual introduction

“hi i’m kim wonpil, studying psychology and i graduate in the spring. i’m taking this class for a major requirement”

then go about his merry way.

but with her? she and him have history

sort of, and it’s the kind of history that is recent and wonpil is unsure if she is even aware of the weird string of fate-like connection they have

or, wonpil, hear your consciousness out

it’s not a big deal, and in the scenario she doesn’t remember she fell asleep on the bus on another person

then you can just say hi like usual, and cut the string of fate there and then

(but does wonpil really want that?)

“hi”

oh crap she’s started it

wonpil braces himself for whatever outcome this interaction comes out to. he’ll let her speak, and tailor his response from there

“i’m sorry, this might be really weird but that’s your sweater, right?”

so she didn’t give her name, her major, anything substantial about herself but instead shoots wonpil a question

pointing at the sweater that’s draped on the seat in front of wonpil

wonpil doesn’t even check to look. he gulps, nods his head and squeaks, “yeah… why?”

something in her eyes flash by, almost like a glint of recognition

she puts a hand on her mouth, and wonpil can make out the faintest shade of pink blushing its way to her ears

it’s kinda cute

“did someone happen to… fall asleep on you on the bus coming to campus today?”

“... yes?”

“that was me” she buries her face even further into her hands, almost lowering down to the chair

wonpil thought she was gonna fall for some reason so he had to remedy the situation somewhat

“i.. i, um, did you have a good nap?”

great comeback

wonpil was so ready to leave the auditorium and never come back after the break

but he hears her giggle, and slowly come out of her shyness

and it’s a sweet sight, to finally see the way her cheeks look full of embarrassed laughter

as she twirls around a length of hair nervously

and taps the pen on the surface of her desk repeatedly

it was endearing, and wonpil forgets about why he was panicking in the first place

she then explains that she had work the whole day, and only had an hour to rest up before going to this 7pm class

wonpil listens intently, watching her mannerisms and the lilt in her voice when she continues to apologize for falling asleep on him without realizing it

“i’m not usually a deep sleeper, but work was exceptionally tiring today and i just needed at least a bit of shut eye” wonpil nods understandingly, almost worried about her health

“where do you work if you don’t mind me asking?”

“at the coffee shop a few blocks away from campus,” she answers, head tilting to the side “i’m still wearing my uniform for it… is it too obvious?”

wonpil didn’t even realize her black long sleeves was a cafe uniform

but it did explain her strong coffee smell

“something like that,” wonpil decided to say, curling his lips upward, feeling content and relieved at the turnout of events

for the 20 minute break, wonpil thought they’d reconcile over what transpired between them and mind their own business soon enough— even if he thinks it’s hard to do that now knowing something about her

which intrigues wonpil

and, quite frankly, he’d like to talk to her more

just so he has an excuse to watch her emotions paint her face beautifully

but there was a pause right after their short conversation

and in real Awkward Wonpil Fashion, he shows her the 30 page reading material, in all of its flimsy glory and starts asking questions about it

“so uh did you read the whole thing? i thought it was interesting up until the part that i dozed off”

and wonpil got his wish; he sees her eyes shine in surprise at his sudden attempt of an intellectual discussion

but she doesn’t deter him away

and actually, she’s read the whole damn thing. and wonpil was beyond amazed at the level of detail she explains to him about the parts he didn’t understand

he actually starts typing real notes while she was talking

this made her laugh in between her explanations, and wonpil didn’t understand what was so funny about

the fight or flight response

“it’s just. the way you’re typing this down so seriously, i’m sure the prof can explain it better”

wonpil shakes his head no, shakes it so much it hurt his temples

she laughs again, and he likes hearing that sound

“do you want to see what i’ve typed the past hour and a half of this class?’

“bet :p”

“actually nevermind” flashbacks of dsfkjsdjffdslkg ring true in wonpil’s mind as he quickly backspaces the nonsense in his notes

and the conversation continues from more psychology talks, to figuring out they’re in the same major but she’s a recent transfer student from last year

and had been juggling work and school since the start of her senior year

wonpil wonders why he hasn’t seen her in the coffee shop yet

he would have done a double take the first time meeting her there for sure

“oh you’re too kind,” she suddenly replies???

wonpil had said his thoughts out loud

without further embarrassing him, she says that she had only started working there since it’s more convenient for her; wonpil feels grateful she doesn’t dwell on the compliment any longer

alas, the break finishes and the droll of the professor’s voice reverberates throughout the room

this time, though, wonpil definitely feels more alert (awake enthusiastic) as the two of them exchange little comments about the class material

and before you know it, class is over and wonpil is an excited bunny. since they’re by the door they got to leave before everyone else

wonpil thinks it’s time to part ways… but this time they’re not fully strangers at all. they’re taking the same class, same major, they even know each other’s name.

surely this isn’t the last time, right?

“hey, wonpil…” he didn’t even realize that they have started walking towards the bus stop together

“hm?”

“i think i owe you one,” she starts, stopping her tracks to face him. eyebrows up in hesitation, wonpil waits for her to finish

“you know, for taking over your personal space for my own comfort”

“oh that? haha that’s nothing :)” honestly if wonpil can do it again he’d volunteer in a heartbeat

“no, really. let me make it up to you. coffee? on me? i make a mean cappuccino” she winks

it strikes through wonpil’s heart

no need for resuscitation.. yet

“or a matcha latte? whatever you’d like it’ll be on me”

“anything!” wonpil exclaims, suddenly realizing the offer being given to him, the excitement bubbling up inside him again. “i mean, anything you’d like to have me try. surprise me,” he corrects himself

that manages to have her grin widely, eyes twinkling in excitement similar to wonpil’s and he thinks

they can get along

they can get to know each other better this way

“would you be up to go for one now?”

“oh— oh! now?”

“yeah, that way none of us takes the risk of falling asleep back on the bus hehe”

well, he really wouldn’t mind that happening a second time

“really now, wonpil?”

andddd he exposed himself again

it’s fine, she tugs his hand slightly to lead him to the bus that has arrived and wonpil follows in a daze

it’s a little full, so they have no other choice but to stand and hold onto the railings above

“guess no falling asleep here…” she teases, and now wonpil can’t use his hands to hide his blushing face

but the feeling of her just close by

and the scent of coffee lingering in the air

in between them

just inches away from each other

it’ll do for now

#day6 imagines #day6 scenarios #day6 au #kim wonpil scenarios #kim wonpil imagines #kim wonpil x reader #day6 fic #dot series #by:jiae

25 notes · View notes

gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights · 5 years ago

Link

Summary: Marinette had replayed the video enough times. She'd know Adrien's voice saying those three words anywhere. (Set the same day as the episode Felix. Reveal Fic. Rated T for kissing, ignores Chat Blanc mostly because my heart can’t take the angst right now.)

~~~

“I love you.”

“I lo—”

Tikki’s tiny butt sat on the video’s pause button, freezing Adrien’s lips in a perfect o.

“Marinette, you need to get ahold of yourself.”

Marinette was sure her complexion matched her kwami’s as she dropped her face onto her desk. “I knoooooow.”

She was being ridiculous. More ridiculous than usual, anyway. But something about those words did more than just make her stomach flutter—it felt familiar, though it was probably just from her daydreams. If he’d told her he loved her before, there was no way she’d forget it.

Her thumb instinctively moved to replay the last five seconds again. Tikki flew into the small space between her and the phone screen, catching the digit between her arms.

“This is an intervention,” she said in her most authoritative voice. Considering it was still two octaves higher than the average humans, it shouldn’t have had much effect, but Marinette hated disappointing Tikki. She was her friend, the only one she could be completely honest with.

And Tikki was pretty good about being honest with her, too. If the kwami thought Marinette needed an intervention, she was probably right.

“Fine.” Marinette spun in her desk chair, intending to pull out some butcher paper and start drafting a pattern in the few hours before patrol tonight. It wasn’t likely that Hawkmoth would akumatize two people in one day—or four, considering it had been three for the price of one thanks to Felix’s stunt—but Chat had sounded a little desperate when he asked if they could still meet up. She hoped he hadn’t planned another impromptu date. She didn’t know if she could handle that after finding out that yet another one of her plans to confess to Adrien had fallen through, this time through no fault of her own.

Would he have said I love you back to her if it weren’t for his cousin’s interference? They’d gotten so much closer lately, but…

“I’m not good with jokes. The girl I’m in love with doesn’t like them, either.”

That she didn’t need a recording to replay. It was embedded in her memory, like a deep splinter she couldn’t dig out.

He might say he loved her, as a friend. But beyond that? She was just setting herself up for disaster.

“Marinette?” Tikki asked. “Do you need some help with the paper?”

She shook her head, almost whacking it on the desk leg as she scrambled for her supply box beneath. “No, I got it. You can grab the measuring tape, though.”

She was finally going to mock up the pattern for an airy sundress she’d spent the last week sketching out. Nothing would take her mind off of her troubling love life like the single-minded focus of a personal project.

It worked a little too well, though. Between drafting each piece, cutting the paper, pinning it to the cheap test fabric, cutting the fabric, pinning the pieces to each other—she barely managed to stop herself from starting the actual sewing when Tikki held up her phone.

On top of a group selfie of her, Adrien, Alya, and Nino, the clock showed 9:29. Patrol started at 9:30

“Ack! I’m going to be late!” She jabbed herself at least ten times getting her pins all back in the pincushion. Everything else could wait, but she didn’t want to swing in and catch one in her foot later.

“Tikki, spots on!”

By the time she swung across town to the Eiffel Tower, her bugphone read 9:35. Record time, but still late. So where was…?

“Little kitty on a roof, all alone without his lady…”

The familiar tune was more downcast than Marinette was used to. Sure enough, when she swung up a few crossbars to Chat Noir’s perch, she caught a flash of his forlorn expression before his usual grin took over.

“Hey there, Bugaboo,” his voice chirped as chipper as ever. Had she been imagining his earlier mood? Or maybe he’d just been worried she wouldn’t make it. Silly kitty. Regardless of whether or not she returned his feelings, she’d vowed to never stand him up again if she could help it.

“Any trouble on the way over?” He asked.

“Only with myself,” she admitted, rubbing the still-stinging pads of her fingers. She probably should’ve put some ointment on them before transforming; the suit irritated the little pricks further. “Civilian me is still as much of a mess as ever.”

She’d hoped that by dropping non-identifying clues on how much she struggled in her daily life, Chat Noir would see through the perfect illusion he had of her and come to his senses. Honestly, she should’ve known better. It hadn’t worked the first ten times she’d tried, and now it only brought a wider smile to his face.

(That wasn’t why she did it, of course. Even if it warmed her more than she wanted to admit, she only had feelings for one green-eyed blond.)

“The only mess you make is a mess of my heart, my lady,” he said with a wink that had her rolling her eyes.

“How do you even come up with those lines?” She asked with a stifled laugh—at how bad it was, not because he was actually funny. “The internet?”

“I’m paw-fended,” he gasped, claws spread in front of his mouth dramatically. “I’ll have you know that everything I say is a one-hundred-percent Chat Noir original.”

“Of course. I should’ve known. Who else could drop that kind of cheese so seriously?”

“Only because I am serious, Bugaboo,” he reminded her. As if she could forget. Bantering back and forth with him was so easy; she hoped she wasn’t accidentally leading him on. He deserved better than that.

He smiled as he bumped his shoulder against hers. His voice bared his sincerity as he said, “Hate on my puns all you want. It won’t change the fact that I love you.”

I love you.

Electricity shot up Marinette’s spine. No. No, it couldn’t be—

I love you.

She’d replayed those words at least a hundred times (two hundred and fifty-three, but who was counting?) in the past day. She’d memorized his exact inflection, the way he spoke from his heart, even if it was about all their friends and not her alone. She would recognize his voice saying those three words anywhere.

Anywhere. Including coming from her ridiculous, pun-loving partner.

“Ladybug?” Chat scooted away from her, his fingertips digging into the backs of his hands. “I’m sorry, I—I know you don’t feel the same way, you don’t have to—”

“Adrien?”

He nearly toppled off of the tower. Marinette caught him by the shoulder, holding him in place before he could lose his balance again, or run away, or—she didn’t know what he’d do. She really should’ve thought this through. They were supposed to keep their identities secret! It wasn’t his fault, of course; she imagined if he’d called her Marinette while she was in the suit she would’ve had a much worse heart attack—

“Who—who’s Adrien?” Chat forced a grin.

“Oh, no. You’re not getting out of this that easy.” She fell deeper into Ladybug mode, still not letting her brain process that—that holy crap this was ADRIEN, Adrien who had just confessed his love to her—to her—!

“Ladybug, please, please don’t freak out, I’m sorry.” It was his turn to grip her shoulders as she tried to breathe. His acidic green eyes were blown wide, the miraculous transformation hiding his normal soft chartreuse irises. Still, how could she not have noticed? It was him it was him it was him and she couldn’t unhear it, couldn’t separate his apologetic voice now from their time at the wax museum when she had almost kissed him and no, now that was even doubly embarrassing because it was CHAT, she’d almost kissed CHAT NOIR—

“I’m not freaking out! Why would you think I’m freaking out?”

Her eye twitched. Her heart just about escaped her ribcage at the soft look of concern her partner was giving her. Oh, this was bad. This was very, very bad.

“I know you didn’t want to find out, and I… how did you find out?” He asked hesitantly. His hand left her shoulder to rub the back of his neck, and she barely restrained herself from tugging it back. Or better yet, climbing into his lap and hoping he’d enfold her in his arms.

Bad. Very, very bad.

“I… well, you see—haha look at the time!” She sprang up and glanced at her obviously-watchless wrist. “Looks like we’re too late to patrol tonight. Oops! Sorry Ad—Chat! I’ll have to love you—SEE you later! Bug out!”

“Ladybug!” He scrambled to his feet, reaching for her arm before she could grab her yo-yo. He was Chat and he was Adrien and he was touching her and even through both their suits she felt herself burning. No, no, she could not be weird with her partner. Not after she’d turned him down over and over and—

Part of her wanted to cry. But Chat—Adrien—had already beaten her to it.

“Please, LB. Please, don’t go. if you have something against Adrien you can tell me, o-or you can not, but please just… don’t leave me.” He swallowed hard, his voice thick with the tears already pooling around the lip of his mask. “Not tonight.”

Tonight. Today. The anniversary of Adrien’s mother’s disappearance.

The anniversary of Chat’s mother’s disappearance.

“Oh,” she breathed, feeling like the worst partner—the worst friend in the whole world. She pulled him close, shoving all other traitorous feelings and desires aside, and focused on comforting him. “I’m so sorry, kitty. I’m not going anywhere, I just—panicked, that’s all.”

He laughed hollowly. The sound curdled in her stomach, a sick parody of the cheery sound that usually rang from him. But he had every right to sound that way, after what he’d been through. His mom was gone and she knew his home life was a wreck and he had so many of his father’s expectations dragging on him, and moonlighting as a superhero on top of that—

How had he ended up being the carefree one out of their duo?

“You panicked because I broke the number one rule. I gave myself away somehow.”

“No, chaton. It’s not your fault.” She rubbed soothing circles into the small of his back, trying to ignore how she could feel the toned muscles through the leather. (His suit was much worse for her sanity knowing it was Adrien in it.) “It’s my fault. One hundred percent definitely my fault.”

He pulled back enough to stare at her, his head tilted sideways like he really was just an overgrown curious kitty, and her transformation from Ladybug into a puddle-bug seemed all too likely.

“I still don’t know how you did it. Is this one of those ‘lucky charm’ connections only your brilliant mind can make?”

Marinette giggled into his shoulder, because maintaining eye contact was beyond her physical limit right now. “Chat, the only brilliant thing about me is how brilliantly stupid I’ve been.”

“I’m still not following, my lady.” His voice was still a little rough, but no longer dripping with desperation.

She kept up the soothing pattern on his back, just in case.

“I… er…” There was no good way to say, oh, I recognized your voice because I’ve been listening to you tell me you love me all afternoon, only you weren’t even saying it to me and actually I’m a massive creep and you probably don’t want to be friends with me anymore, let alone be my partner and—

“Shh, shh, breathe.”

—And now he was comforting her again. It took her back to the first time they’d met—well, the first time Ladybug met Chat Noir. She’d been so useless, and he’d been so ready to assure her that she could handle it. From then on she’d somehow begun to take charge, but without that first push—without him—she’d never have gotten here.

And maybe… maybe leaning on him again wouldn’t be so bad.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her forehead resting against his chest. He held her tight but refrained from any other soothing motions. Of course he wouldn’t. She’d brushed off too many of his physically affectionate gestures before.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” It was a testament to how serious he was that he didn’t slip in a paw-pun there. Honestly, she wished he had; she could’ve used the laugh right now. “I trust you. I always wanted you to be the first to know my identity, anyway.”

“Chat, I have everything to apologize for.”

She could hardly explain why without giving away her own identity, but she knew it was only a matter of time. She’d rather have this conversation now than after she’d made a fool of herself—scratch that, she was already making a fool of herself, but it could be worse. She could accidentally call him Chat in class. She could boop his nose like she sometimes did as Ladybug. Or someone could catch her doodling their wedding outfits in her notebook. She was really going to have to stop that, or Alya would wonder why she’d suddenly decided she wanted a “ladynoir” themed ensemble.

Great. Five minutes into finding out Chat was Adrien, and she was still daydreaming about marrying him! Get a grip, Marinette! She hadn’t been this bad around Adrien in months, but connecting him with Chat had short-circuited her brain.

“I’m not… I’m not like this, as myself.” She pulled back and gestured down to all of her. “And I don’t know that you’d still like me if you knew. You never seemed to before.”

“Are you saying I know you? Civilian you?”

He didn’t sound surprised. Had she given herself away, too? Her spastic reaction earlier did scream “Marinette.” It wasn’t how she’d dreamed of revealing herself to her partner, but since when did her dreams regarding Adrien ever pan out?

“Yes. You do.” She hoped her voice sounded more confident than she felt. Sure, she was thrilled (and confused and mortified) that Adrien was Chat Noir, but would he feel the same about her identity?

“Can I… can I guess who you are?” Adrien-Noir asked, his voice fragile as glass. His hands shook against her back. “If you don’t want me to, I get it, really. But I… I think I know. There’s no one else you could be.”

She pulled back, her eyebrows drawn in confusion beneath her mask. “You’re that certain? I was so—nevermind. I want to hear it.” Explaining how careful she was to mislead him would only confirm his suspicions, if he was even right. For all she knew, he thought she was some stranger he knew from fencing or one of his other extracurricular activities.

One of his sly Chat-grins spread across his face. Normally that would have her worried, but it was a relief to fall back into a familiar pattern.

(Though how close he leaned in to her ear was new. And was likely to make her burst like fireworks if she so much as breathed.)

“I love you, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Fire spread through every inch of her. She jolted in Adrien’s arms, cracking her head against his jaw and making him yelp.

“Sorry! Oh my—are you kayo—okay?” She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming. Adrien said he loved her! Marinette her! And then she probably broke his jaw or something—!

“I’m fine—a-at least I think I am, if I was right? About you being Marinette?” He rubbed his jaw and smiled hopefully at her. Yep, she was definitely going to be a puddle-bug. He’d be scooping her off the side of the Eiffel Tower in a bucket.

She swallowed the giddy laugh bubbling up in her. “I bet it would be really embarrassing if you weren’t.”

He laughed and scooped her up in a hug that lifted her feet from the metal beam. “Marinette! I knew it!”

Pressed close to him, she barely resisted the urge to wrap her legs around his waist and kiss his lips. He was Adrien and Chat and him, and he was holding her and he loved her!

The laugh finally escaped, breathless and smitten, as she laced her fingers behind his neck.

“You did. Somehow. I was so careful too—you have no idea how hard it is to split yourself and use that many miraculouses at once. The illusion was perfect though.” She frowned as she thought back on their fight with Kwamibuster. “How did you find out?”

“I asked you first.” He smirked. It was a face he made all the time, it had no right to be so cute now. It was a just a curve of his lips, of Adrien’s lips—

“If I kissed you, do you think you’d forget about it?”

She slapped her hands over her mouth. Had she—had she really said that? To Adrien!?

“Actually if you could just forget I said that too—”

“Not a chance, Buginette.”

She hadn’t thought his grin could get any wider, but she’d been wrong. He held her tight, her toes barely brushing the ground. Still, she could escape if she wanted to.

(She didn’t want to.)

“Chaaaat…”

“Thanks to Oblivio, I forgot the last time you kissed me. There’s no way I’m forgetting again.”

She flushed as she remembered the picture Alya had taken of them. Of course, it made sense now—she must have somehow learned Chat’s identity while they were under Oblivio’s influence. How long had that fight taken? Did she have a shorter or longer reveal-to-kiss timeframe this time?

And then the full force of it hit her. He wanted to kiss her.

Adrien. Wanted to kiss. Her.

She lost what little coherent thought she had left as she dug her fingers into his hair and pulled him to her. Their lips collided roughly, and she felt him gasp before he melted into her.

From there, it was all a blur. Some distant part of her mind might have registered how she ended up with her legs wrapped around his hips, how he stumbled back into a crossbeam, how he held her so tightly she might’ve been crushed outside of the suit. But all of that was faded against the single-minded desire to drown him in the love and desire and everything that she’d kept bottled tight for the past year.

She had no idea how long it was before he pulled back and breathlessly said her name. “Marinette.” Those three syllables in that voice had her losing her mind. She was about to claim his lips again when he turned his head, making her miss and kiss his cheek. Well. That wasn’t so bad, either. She peppered the side of his face, up to the edge of his mask, and he laughed.

“Marinette. LB. You can’t hide behind kisses forever.”

“Watch me.”

A kiss to the shell of his ear. His nose. The sliver of his neck that wasn’t covered by his suit— she felt his legs wobble a little at that one.

“...I stand corrected.”

She giggled at the completely smitten look on his face. She’d put that there. Of course, Chat had looked at Ladybug that way before, but the fact that it was also Adrien beaming at her, knowing she was Marinette… All the puzzle pieces finally fit together, grooves sliding into place just as perfectly as she fit in his arms.

“Two can play at that game, Bugaboo.”

Oh. Oh. Sure, they’d practically been making out seconds ago, but the soft kisses he now littered across her jaw somehow felt even more intimate. Their first kiss had been desperate. These were slower, like he had all the time in the world—and they did.

He wasn’t going anywhere. He loved her.

She practically groaned in disappointment when he finally lowered her back to the ground.

Adrien just laughed. “I had no idea you were so clingy, Princess.”

“I’m not clingy,” she pouted, stepping back from him to prove it. “But if you think I am, fine. See if you get any more kisses.”

Three whole coherent sentences. Wow. After kissing Adrien, she expected to be a stuttering mess, but she was actually finding it easier to channel her Ladybug confidence. Maybe it was the fact that for the first time, she knew he was as crazy about her too.

“Hey, hey, I never said that was a bad thing.” He squeezed her tight again, a slight purr rumbling in his chest before he coughed.

“I think we all know who’s the clingy one, anyway.” She said, scratching the spot behind his ear until she coaxed another purr from him. Bad idea. She couldn’t spend all her time with her lips locked to his.

“Whatever you say, Marinette.” His tail curled around her. “So… as mind-meltingly amazing as kissing you was, I think I still remember a certain question I had.”

How she found out his identity. Right. This had to be the biggest whiplash for him—her literally turning him down last week just to turn around and practically jump him. (Not that he was complaining, obviously.)

She bit her lip. Lying to him would be impossible, even if she wanted to. She’d promised a long time ago that she would never lie to him… except for when she had to hide her identity, but that was because Master Fu would want to reclaim their miraculouses if they revealed themselves.

...Which they just had. Her gut twisted at that realization, which had been lost in her earlier excitement. But Fu couldn’t just take their miraculouses, right? He was training her to be the Guardian. Plus, after their fight with Feast, Marinette hoped he would know better.

She was Ladybug. Adrien was Chat Noir. No one else could replace them—not to Paris, and not each other.

She could deal with Fu. But dealing with Adrien knowing just how obsessed she was? That was a different terror entirely.

“Fine,” she sighed. “It’s really, really embarrassing though. You’re… probably going to think I’m a creep, honestly.”

Adrien blinked when she glanced up at him through her eyelashes, not daring to watch him directly. “I won’t judge you, I paw-mise.”

She dropped her head in her hands and stifled a giggle. At least they were back to puns. She never thought she’d be grateful for that, but it eased her nervousness.

“You know how you, uh, sent a video to our class today? To reply to the videos you never saw?”

“Yeah? What about it?”

“Well… err…” She was sure her face was challenging the shade of her suit, but he just blinked innocently. “I may have… singled out the part… where you said, um…”

He was still waiting patiently.

“I took the part where you said ‘I love you’ and replayed it two hundred and fifty-three times.”

She wanted to shove her fist in her mouth. She wasn’t going to lie, but she didn’t have to be that honest!

Chat stared. Blinked.

...And doubled over laughing.

Well, this was it. At least she’d gotten to kiss him once, right? Hopefully he could forget this enough for them to still work together, because she’d never forgive herself if she ruined their partnership and Hawkmoth got their miraculouses because of it—

“You—I can’t believe it.” His arms had fallen while he laughed, but now he pulled her in again, practically crushing her to his chest. “And here I thought I was the crazy one.”

“Please kill me,” she groaned.

“Never.” He said with a kiss to her temple that shot lightning across her skin. “I’m keeping you forever, Bugaboo. No takebacks.”

“That doesn’t even make any sense.” She paused, searched his eyes for any trace of hesitance. If anything, he looked giddier than ever. “You’re not mad? Or… weirded out?”

“Marinette, I play with action figures of us. Sometimes they kiss. I really have no room to talk.”

She gaped up at him. The image of Adrien making toy versions of themselves kiss—okay, she had to cackle too, because it was too insane to process otherwise. They really were made for each other.

“You do have to promise me one thing, though,” he said, his voice sobering.

“What?” She asked before her brain could start catastrophizing again.

“You have to let me say I love you at least two hundred fifty-four times. I can’t be beat out by a video of myself.”

He—he was serious. Right when she was thinking it was impossible to love him any more, he said things like that.

“That’s a lot of times.”

“I guess I’d better get started then, huh?”

She punched his arm lightly and ignored how much she really really wanted to let him do just that. (Maybe with a few more kisses sprinkled between.)

“Not yet, chaton. You still have to tell me how you recognized me.”

“Technically I don’t think you finished,” he pointed out, to which she rolled her eyes.

“I’d heard you say ‘I love you’ so many times, I recognized your voice. That’s all.”

“I would’ve told you I loved you as Adrien a long time ago if it would’ve made you see it.” He chuckled. “I wish I had a story like that. I didn’t know for sure, I just thought… well, Marinette and Ladybug are the two most amazing girls I know, and… I think I hoped it was you more than anything.”

The soft grin on his face threatened to send her melting again. He’d wanted her to be the girl he loved. Of course his epiphany had come over something so sweet, rather than her completely embarrassing story.

“That still doesn’t explain how you saw through me being Multimouse and Ladybug,” she said. “You really do think with your heart more than your head, don’t you?”

“One of us has to.” He winked, and she hid a lovestruck smile. She couldn’t give him the satisfaction of melting at everything he did. He was still her silly kitty, after all. “I know it looked impossible, but if anyone could pull off the impossible, it’s you.”

She could pull off the impossible, which right now included resisting the urge to kiss him senseless again.

“You’re the one who’s impossible,” she said with a flick to his bell.

“And you can pull me off anytime,” he blurted before covering his mouth. “Uh.”

“Adrien, that doesn’t even make sense,” she said for the second time in the past five minutes.

His face flushed. “I can’t be at the top of my flirting game all the time. I’m still trying to wrap my head around everything, to be honest. The cheesy pick up lines are kind of a coping mechanism. Not that I’m upset, I’m not! I’m so, so happy—It’s just—it’s a lot.”

“It is a lot,” she agreed, slipping out of his embrace to sit on the cold metal of the tower. “Come on, sit with me. Paris can take care of itself for one night.”

He grinned and plopped down beside her, hesitating only a moment before enfolding her in his arms.

“Thank you. This means the world to me.” He kissed the top of her head. “Today was… well, you know. A year ago today my mom disappeared. I’m doing alright, much better than Father is, but still...” He slumped against her, his chin resting on her shoulder, their cheeks brushing. “It’s why I wanted to be with you tonight. And then everything else—well, it’s better than I could’ve imagined.”

She was afraid it had been too much for him, dealing with their identities at such a sensitive time, but he did look much more relaxed now. Despite his cousin’s earlier interference, she had managed to help him anyway. That was the most important thing.

“I’m glad I could help. I actually tried to tell you in the video Felix deleted… but I love you, Adrien. And I’ll always be here if you need me.”

He turned his face so their foreheads rested against each other, filling her vision with his bright green eyes. The hopeful glow in them could’ve put all of Paris’s lights to shame.

“You love me?”

His breath ghosted over her lips, mingled with her laugh. She’d said it. She’d finally said it.

“Of course, minou. What, did you think I kissed you because we’re just friends?”

“That happened?” He blinked in fake innocence. “I don’t know, I think Oblivio might have hit me while you weren’t looking. You might have to kiss me again.”

She rolled her eyes, but she could only do the impossible for so long. Their noses bumped as she kissed him long and soft and slow. Could she ever get used to this? Each kiss left her soaring higher than the last.

They broke apart giggling and flushed before Chat shyly asked a question.

“Did you mean it when you said you’ll always be here if I need you? I can be a very needy kitty.” His voice was all Chat Noir, but his face was the soft, open expression she was used to seeing from Adrien.

He was worried about that? But then, there were so few other people in his life who were just there, she realized. No wonder he had coveted attention from Ladybug for so long.

“Always, Adrien,” she said softly. “I know I can’t fix everything. Especially about your mom.” She cupped his face in her hands. “But being here? That’s easy. Never feel bad about needing that.”

“That’s all I want,” he breathed. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

He wrapped her in his arms again, and she hugged him back just as tightly.

“Me too, kitty. Me too.”

#tali writes #miraculous ladybug #ladynoir #chat noir #ladybug #fic tag #this is like the worst fic layout #one day i'll decide how i want to go about posting oneshots #but not today apparently

506 notes · View notes

iron--spider · 5 years ago

Text

harm and foul (whumptober - laced drink)

The ever-present soundtrack of hard rock pulses through the room, despite the fact that most people are just standing around in small groups talking to each other. No one’s dancing. It’s another AC/DC song, Peter thinks—he isn’t completely sure. It’s Tony’s birthday, and just about every superhero known to man is here, all of them mingling with each other in the kind of scene any reporter would shit themselves over. Peter had been worried about the possibility of someone attacking them while they’re all gathered in one place, but Tony assured him that he had contingencies, and left it at that.

But Peter isn’t worrying about that anymore. He’s staring over at Tony, who seems to be getting a gentle verbal-lashing from Pepper before she presses a hard kiss to his forehead, leaving him behind and on his own again. Tony’s been acting strange as hell for the past half hour or so—he was completely normal, talking to everyone, having fun, and then he—wasn’t. Then he got weird, started sitting alone, swaying and laughing at people who passed him by, no matter who they were.

Peter doesn’t like it.

“I just talked to Maria Hill and I’m dead, Peter,” Ned says, throwing himself over the back of the couch. “I’m dead.”

“Mhm,” Peter grunts, still staring at Tony.

“What are you doing?” Ned says. He smacks him in the arm. “I know you’re around these people all the time, but I’m not, and I need you to be more excited.”

“Only like six of these people know who I really am, not including you,” Peter says, in a hushed breath.

“Is he acting weird?” Ned asks, and Peter glances down at him, sees him looking at Tony now too. “Why do you keep staring at him?”

“He’s acting weird,” Peter says, watching as Tony covers his face with a very limp hand.

“Maybe he’s just a little drunk,” Ned says, hitting Peter again. “I mean, it’s his birthday, Peter, cut him some slack.”

“He barely drinks nowadays, even on special occasions,” Peter says. His spidey sense is going off like crazy, and he doesn’t understand what else it could possibly be. There’s no way there’s someone in here that shouldn’t be, is there? Peter sighs, glancing down at Ned. “I don’t know, I feel weird. I feel like something’s wrong.”

“Is, uh, Miss Potts worried?” Ned asks, finally tuning in for real.

“I think she’s distracted,” Peter says. “She’s the one that always oversees this stuff and I know the party is so great because she planned every bit of it, so, it’s—I think she’s distracted. Plus they’ve got that merger deal thing whatever corporate blah blah coming up this week and that’s weighing on her too. I mean, she was over there talking to him. I think she knows something’s off, but she’s got eight hundred things on her plate as usual.”

“What about his other close besties?” Ned asks. “Like the me’s and you’s?”

Peter searches out Happy and Rhodey in the crowd, and finds them over by the third buffet table, and they’re both looking at Tony too. Their gazes are narrowed and they’re whispering back and forth at each other, and Peter knows just from the way they look that they’re thinking along the same lines he is.

“They seem suspicious,” Ned says. He climbs over the couch awkwardly, and stands next to Peter. “Does Tony even like big parties like this? I feel like the last one you told me about—”

“Since the whole saving the world thing he likes to be around everybody a lot just to make sure they’re all good,” Peter says, knowing because Tony discussed the party with him ahead of time to make sure he’d be okay being around so many superheroes. Let’s not do fanboy mode. Spider-Man’s cooler than all of them, anyway. “We’re doing the family party on Sunday afternoon.”

“Aww,” Ned says.

Peter sighs. “Back to the matter at hand—I’m going over there. Something’s wrong, he’s not drunk, it’s—it’s something else. I don’t know.”

“If there’s a bad guy here—you know what, I feel safe,” Ned says, looking over as Thor and Bruce pass him by. “I think I’ll make it.”

“Be right back.” Peter says. He weaves around the chattering groups, watching as Tony yawns big and long. Peter is a little bit irritated that nobody is around him right now, on his birthday, especially the first fucking one after he saved the damn world. They’re lucky he’s still alive. They’re lucky he has both arms. They’re lucky he’s even here. People should constantly be gathered around him listening to his stories because he’s the coolest person here. It’s his birthday. Just another example of Tony being criminally underappreciated, and it makes Peter’s face go red with anger.

“Hey, lookit you, short stuff,” Tony says, grinning at him as Peter comes closer. “What’s wrong? Why’re—why’re we so fired up?” He sways when he talks and the chair he’s sitting on swivels dangerously.

Peter sits next to him, holding him by his shoulders. “Tony—”

“Remember when you would only call me Mr. Stark?” Tony laughs. “God, kid, we literally had to go through hell and back to get you to stop that shit—”

“You haven’t been drinking tonight, right?” Peter asks, and Tony keeps laughing, swaying back and forth. “I didn’t see—”

“I mean, I guess,” Tony says, his eyes widening. “I don’t—shit, I don’t remember. Must have, right? Feeling like this.”

“What do you feel like?” Peter asks.

“Like a scrambled egg on the sidewalk on a sunny day,” Tony says. He meets Peter’s eyes again and snorts, shaking his head. “You’re an incredible human being, you know that, Pete? You know that? I hope you know that.”

Peter laughs a little bit. “Yeah, so are you, but right now—”

“No, no, for real,” Tony says, leaning over until he’s completely off his chair, and Peter has to move with him, because he’s not staying upright. “You make me so proud, kid, you’re the best of us, all of us, even Captain Moral Fiber.”

Compliments are always disarming to Peter, especially from Tony, and he remembers Ned saying once how people tell the truth when they’re drunk, but that reminds him that Tony isn’t drunk, he doesn’t even smell like he’s drunk, and something’s wrong, something’s wrong, compliments aside.

“Tony, something’s wrong,” Peter says. He holds him up, and starts to march him over to Rhodey and Happy, but then Tony stops him with a hand on his chest.

“Nope,” Tony says. His face goes a little green. “Uh. Shit, Pete—” He snorts, rolling his eyes, and covers his mouth with his free hand. “Uh. Would rather not puke in the middle of all these people—”

“Okay,” Peter says, breath catching in his throat. “Okay, bathroom.”

They’re starting to gather looks, which makes Peter angrier, because no one was paying attention to Tony a moment before and it’s his damn birthday, and Happy, Rhodey and Pepper immediately converge on them as Peter veers towards the hallway where the bathroom is.

“What the hell is going on?” Happy asks. “He’s been acting weird as all hell—”

“Ever since he was talking to Fury,” Rhodey says, following close behind.

“Babe—” Pepper starts, her hand on Tony’s back.

“I think someone spiked his drink,” Peter says, glancing around at the three of them as Tony leans into in, gagging a little into his own hand. Peter tries to speed up, even though he wouldn’t blame him if he puked before they get to their destination.

Everyone starts talking all at once, and there’s a lot of cursing and exclaiming which makes Tony laugh, and gag again.

“Who in fresh hell—”

“All we’ve got in here are literal heroes, magazine cover heroes—”

“You think it was a prank? Like that time Clint gave everybody the pot brownies?”

“Honey, Tony, you said you’d had three goddamn vodka tonics—”

“He has no idea what he’s talking about,” Peter says, hoisting him up a little higher. They’re only steps away from the bathroom but it feels like it’s gonna take ten years to get there, and the hallway seems small and loud despite the fact that they’ve left the party behind.

“Hey, hey, Spidey,” Tony protests, but then he heaves again.

Peter clicks his tongue and keeps talking. “I’ve had a bad feeling for a while, looking at him, I don’t even think he was drinking—”

“He’s been on that tomato juice kick for a while,” all four of them say at once.

“Jesus, he’s gonna puke any minute—” Rhodey says.

“Go look around for anybody weird,” Peter says. “I don’t think it’s a prank, I’ve got—I’ve got a bad feeling. I said that, but, yeah.”

“On it,” Rhodey says, patting Tony on the shoulder and turning to head back towards the party.

Pepper pets the base of Tony’s neck and Happy pushes the bathroom door open when they get there. “Happy,” she says. “Can you go watch the cameras please? Go over the last, maybe, hour and a half?”

“Got it,” Happy says.

“Ugh, so fucking embarrassing,” Tony mutters, and Peter rushes him into the nearest stall and makes sure he doesn’t slam his face into the toilet before he spills his guts into it. “Jesus, sorry, kiddo.”

“Don’t apologize, someone roofied you,” Peter says, glancing back as Pepper stands in the entrance to the stall, her eyes worried.

“God, no, no way,” Tony says, and he laughs, puking again. “This isn’t—fuck—this isn’t college. Where’s—oh Jesus—where’s Rhodey?”

“Trying to help you,” Pepper says. “Dammit, I should have realized something was off, baby, I’m sorry.”

“I wouldn’t have realized if I didn’t have a literal built in alarm system,” Peter says, looking back at her. He watches as Tony flops down, leaning against the stall wall.

“Why the fuck did we put stalls in here, baby?” Tony asks, looking up at Pepper as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Why? This is—this is—living quarters—” He doesn’t finish his sentence, just widens his eyes and holds out his hands.

Pepper chews on her lower lip, and glances at Peter. “Peter, sweetheart, I’ll be right back, can you stay with him? I’ll be right back. I’m gonna go get him a change of clothes and maybe kick everybody out. And ask Helen how we can flush this out of his system.”

“I’ll be right here,” Peter says, nodding at her.

“I love you!” Tony calls after her. “Light of my life!”

“Love you too,” she yells, and Peter hears the door close.

He sighs, looking at Tony. “Tell me if you need to puke again,” he says.

Tony narrows his eyes at him, and he’s still swaying despite the fact that he’s sitting and leaning on something. “Yeah,” he says. “Try not to puke on you.”

“I think we can move past it,” Peter says, smiling a little bit.

Tony snorts. “You’re all angry tonight, webs,” he says. “Like a little—mini Hulk. Go tell Bruce, we’ve got mini Hulk.”

Peter shakes his head, and looks at him hard, trying to get him to focus for just a second. “Tony, there’s like, a bad guy here or something. I don’t think anyone would genuinely roofie you for fun, and I’m like 95 percent sure that you got roofied—”

“I’m thankful for your service,” Tony says, smiling at him. “Always on my team. Amazing. I’m—kid, I’m bursting with pride. I’m telling May. You deserve—something. I don’t know. A new Lego set. A car.”

Peter really doesn’t wanna laugh at him, considering the situation, and he ducks his head down and tries really, really hard to stifle his giggles. “I’m gonna go wet a towel so you can wipe your face,” he says. He pats Tony’s knee. “Stay there.”

“Staying,” Tony says.

Peter pushes himself to his feet, trying to sort through all the insanity in his head. He walks over to the sink and grabs one of the fancy red towels, putting it under the tap and running the water.

“Uh, Pete,” Tony says.

“Yeah?” Peter asks, making sure the water isn’t hot. “You okay?”

“There’s—”

Something hits him hard in the back of his head before he hears the end of Tony’s sentence, and he hits the counter, his face smashing into the mirror. The blow would have knocked anyone else the fuck out, but Peter just blinks around the hazy dizziness, turning and immediately grabbing Whoever The Hell This Is by the throat, shoving them against the wall.

“Holy fuck,” the dude says, trying to swat at Peter’s hand. “What the hell? Who the hell are you?”

Peter’s got glass in his face and he winces as he reaches up and plucks it out, tossing it back towards the counter. He hears Tony stumbling around, trying to get to his feet, and Peter stares at the asshole in front of him. He looks—familiar. Like Peter’s seen him somewhere before. He’s wearing a black hoodie, like he thought that would help him be stealth.

“Justin fucking Hammer,” Tony says, crawling out of the stall and wincing like everything is too bright. “What the fuck—”

“Anthony, who is this twink? Why’s he so strong?”

“He’s—wait, Justin Hammer?” Peter exclaims, holding him tighter and shoving him harder against the wall. “This is the guy with the drones! From the Expo! The one that almost killed me!”

“That shit still—fries my brain,” Tony says, bracing himself against the wall and pushing himself up.

“Why is he so strong?” Hammer whisper-yells.

“He’s Spider-Man,” Tony shrugs, yawning again.

Peter’s head whips around so hard that it nearly snaps off his shoulders, and Tony grits his teeth when their eyes meet, like he knows what he did. Peter sighs, heavily, and knows he can’t blame him for anything he does while he’s like this. But future Tony is gonna be real pissed at his Roofied self.

“Well,” Hammer says. “Okay, that, that makes—”

Peter directs his anger to Hammer. “You did this,” he says. “You did this to him.”

“Well, yeah,” Hammer says, still holding onto Peter’s arm with both of his hands. “I mean, who did you think did it? Thor? For shits and giggles?”

“Why did you do it?” Peter says, getting closer to him, trying to be menacing. “Are you stupid or something? There are a billion superheroes here—”

“And look how far I got,” Hammer says, tilting his head at Peter.

“Pete, he’s nothing,” Tony says, trying to gesture towards him, and he yawns again. “He’s a rat. Jesus, I’m tired.”

“I just wanted to get Anthony’s help with something,” Hammer says, scoffing. “I was gonna kidnap him—just for a couple hours, Jesus—and force some, uh, advice out of him, for a newly escaped convict, and then I was gonna drop him off, no harm, no foul—”

“A lot of harm and foul,” Peter says, almost nose to nose with him now. He points over at Tony with his free hand. “You drugged him. You messed him up!”

“Oh, it’s fine. A little concoction of my own making, very proud, very proud. And Jesus, it was too easy, frankly, for the supposed security this place claims,” Hammer says. “Hogan should be ashamed. Ashamed. I got all the way up here, got to the prize himself, drugged him in front of all these assholes—” He stops talking so he can laugh, and Peter’s blood boils.

“Hey, Pete, you’re bleeding,” Tony says, his brows furrowing. He stares for a long second, tons of emotions flickering across his face. He looks back at Hammer, and rushes at him before Peter can do anything, tackling Hammer to the ground.

“Stupid asshole,” Tony says, punching Hammer in the face, though, in his current state, it doesn’t look like it lands with much finesse. “Making my kid bleed—”

Hammer turns up his nose. “Tony, Tony, this is great, real fun,” he says, patting Tony’s waist. “But—”

Peter quickly pulls Tony off of him with hands hooked under his arms, and he deposits him behind him quickly. Tony is still trying to throw punches. Peter turns, just as Hammer is trying to scramble to the door, and Peter punches him square in the nose. This one lands a little better than Tony’s did, and Hammer unceremoniously crumples back down to the tile, unconscious.

The door opens quickly, and hits Hammer in the side of the head.

“Hey,” Tony yells, as Happy appears in the doorway. “You’re supposed to knock.”

“What the fuck is this?” Happy asks, and he pushes his way inside, with Pepper and Rhodey on his heels.

Peter moves over to help Tony back to his feet and God, he smells like puke. Peter holds onto him anyway, and figures he’s gonna be totally out in just a little bit, if the yawning is any indication.

“He broke in, somehow,” Peter says, as Pepper moves to Tony’s other side and supports him. “I don’t know, he was trying to kidnap Tony. He gave him something.”

“Peter’s bleeding,” Tony announces, kicking out one foot, trying to shove Hammer’s leg away. “Red alert. Priority one.”

Peter’s face goes a little hot.

“When the hell did this dickhead even get out of prison?” Rhodey asks, staring down at him. “How? They wouldn’t have released him and I can’t picture him staging an escape—”

“He did,” Peter says. “He told us. No idea, but we gotta—take care of Tony, like now.” He’s so exasperated.

“And the blood,” Tony says. “My kid is bleeding, fuck’s sake.”

“Helen’s waiting for us, we’ll move up to the med wing,” Pepper says, patting Tony on the back. “We’ll take care of both of you.”

“We’ll take out the trash,” Happy says, glaring down at Hammer.

Tony falls asleep after five minutes with Helen, and there isn’t much to do other than give him fluids and some oxygen and wait for him to wake up. Happy and Rhodey make sure to make Tony’s closer friends feel accordingly bad about not noticing what was going on, and then they immediately start on upping security. Thor and Nat handle Hammer, while Clint finds out just how in fresh hell he got out of The Raft.

Peter and Pepper wait for Tony to wake up.

Peter has three text threads going: one with May, who’s on her way. One with Ned, who is still way too excited to have been a part of this at all. And one with Natasha, who swears Hammer won’t ever reveal Peter’s identity. Or escape from prison again. And Peter is sure that she wouldn’t be saying it if she didn’t mean it.

Hours and hours go by, and Tony snores. Pepper encourages Peter to sleep too, and he only wakes up once, when May brushes his hair back and kisses his forehead. He smiles at her, glances at Tony to make sure he’s still out, and then he drifts off again.

“Buddy.”

Someone is shaking Peter gently, a familiar hand on his arm.

“Pete.”

Peter gasps awake when he realizes it’s Tony who’s talking to him. Tony smiles, and he looks a lot better than he did the last time Peter saw him—he’s sitting up in bed now, only a little pale. Peter scoots his chair closer, smiling back. He sees May and Pepper out in the hallway, talking to Happy.

“Kid,” Tony says, with a sigh. “I don’t remember one single thing about the party, which is a feeling I thought I’d left far, far in the past, but apparently dumbass Justin Hammer decided to come in and wreak some havoc.”

“He’s the worst,” Peter says.

“Yeah, Happy’s real embarrassed that he even got in here,” Tony says. “So is everybody else, apparently. Pepper’s been taking lots of calls.”

“I mean, hopefully one of us would have taken him out if he actually got a hold of you,” Peter says. He shudders to think.

“You did all that,” Tony says. “They told me everything. You took care of it, you noticed, you knocked the hell out of him, all the while dealing with a very drugged-up me.”

Peter shakes his head. “My spidey sense was going crazy and I just—I don’t know, you were acting weird. I wasn’t sure if you were gonna drink at the party but it just—I don’t know, it didn’t feel like regular drunk. Not that I know anything about being drunk.”

“You’re the damn hero,” Tony says, looking at him fondly. “And I’m the asshole who told Hammer your identity. I’m sorry, Pete, Jesus.”

“You couldn’t help it,” Peter says. “For real. He messed you up.”

Tony nods, grimacing. “I literally cannot believe I allowed Justin Hammer to lace my drink. Him. Of all people. It’s like—an infant getting the better of you in a card game.”

“He was stupid and I didn’t like him.”

Tony snorts. “But for real, and everybody’s saying it—something really bad could have happened if it wasn’t for you. That guy’s an idiot but he’s an idiot with a grudge. So thank you. I’m really proud of you. You—you had my back, kid.”

“Of course,” Peter says, grinning. I always will.

“And whatever dumb shit I did, just—embarrassing shit, forget about it, okay? Wipe it from your mind.”

“Oh no, you gave me primary control of all your suits and workshops,” Peter says. “And while you were sleeping I locked you out entirely. So there’s that.”

Tony narrows his eyes but he grins, sinking a little lower into his bed. “Alright, I guess I deserve that. You’re the only one with any kind of awareness around here.”

Peter laughs, palming the back of his neck. “The family birthday party is gonna be way better. Nobody weird is gonna break in and it’ll just—it’ll just be better.”

“Definitely,” Tony says. He looks at Peter for a long moment, a soft smile on his face. “I mean, when it really comes down to it—you guys are all I need. And a new damn security system.”

Peter grins. “Well, Happy’s on that. His pride is at stake. And oh, I forgot. You owe me a new Lego set. You promised, so.” He doesn’t mention the car.

“You can have seven new Lego sets, how’s that?” Tony says, raising his eyebrows at him.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” Peter says.

“I’m not,” Tony says, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. “You deserve Legos and Legos you shall have. Now let’s go, I need some of that birthday cake. There better be some left, after what the hell I’ve gone through.”

Peter gets up, walking alongside him. “Oh, I called down to make sure they saved you the second tier.”

Tony beams at him, slinging an arm around his shoulders. “Pete. You really are my hero.”

#tony stark #peter parker #whumptober #whumptober 2019 #iron man #spider-man #my fics #iron dad #this one is pure chaos

306 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 4 years ago

Text

Lemon's Misadventures in Dating, Chapter 3 (Lemon x Everyone) - Mermelada

A/N Hi everyone, I’ve been sitting on this chapter for a wee while but couldn’t quite get it right, so I hope this will do! Lots of love to you all!

As soon as Lemon had arrived home after her date with Kyne – at 9 o’clock the following morning – she flopped onto her bed and checked her phone. She opened the app to be greeted with a number of new messages.

[08:48] Hope you got home safe baby, please try not to fall in love with me now xx

The first one she read, from Kyne, made her chuckle, she’d actually had a really, REALLY good time last night. It turned out that there was actually a very easy way to get the girl to stop talking. Kyne had every reason to be cocky, and Lemon hadn’t been made to feel so good for a very long time. She had even managed to go a couple of hours without thinking of her. Speaking of her, they still hadn’t matched, which was definitely for the best, as Lemon didn’t think she could stand the inescapable mutual awkwardness if they did. But then did that mean that Juice had swiped left on her? Deciding to stop the mental tennis before it got out of hand, she pulled up the bottom message on her list, from yesterday.

[16:04] Bonjour hi, Miss Lemon! Tu parles français? Or am I needing to practice my English? :-)

Rita. From her profile, she looked every bit the no-shit-taking dom top with a major mommy’s little girl kink, but her message was kind of sweet. The fact she had even bothered to check what language Lemon spoke was cute, she supposed, but she crossed her fingers that Rita had an edge and wasn’t all politeness and niceties. Now that Lemon had had her first taste of Tinder hook-ups, she was ready to dive in with no fear. Well maybe just a tiny bit of fear. She quickly typed out a reply, partly assisted by the internet, and sent it off.

[09:09] I’m assuming you don’t count ‘voulez-vous coucher avec moi’ as proper French 😉

Is it completely cliché and unoriginal? Yes. Has Rita probably already received hundreds of messages saying the same thing? Yes. But I’m tired and still feeling fucked out, so it’ll do. If she likes me, she’ll bite. Hopefully for real, soon…

Following on, she finally had a reply from Kiara.

[19:20] Hi girlie! I am SO sorry for replying so late, I have been working all day and all night this week ☹️ but seeing your profile made me feel better 🙂 how are you??

Double-checking quickly in case she’d missed something important, she realised that the girl’s profile didn’t say what she did as a job, so that seemed like a good place to start.

[09:13] Don’t worry at all, hon! But I’m glad I can help 😉 I’m doing okay thanks, and u? What do you do for work? x

Is a kiss on the end too forward or too friendly, she pondered, trying to remember if she’d done the same for Rita and Kyne before her. It’s done now, I’ll soon find out, I guess!

[23:56] You’re named after the wrong fruit, because you’re definitely a fineapple

The third message was from Boa, who she must have matched with during the night. She loved it. She wanted it on a cross-stitch, framed above her bed. She’d definitely made the right choice with this girl. Now, how to match her at her own game…

[09:15] You udderly impressed me with that one!

As soon as it had sent, Lemon was hit with a massive wave of self-doubt: what if Boa didn’t get the pun and just thought she was weird? She’d always thought she was quite funny, but what if that was all a lie? There was still time to rectify it.

[09:15] Because of the cow costume, get it?

[09:15] It’s so cute!!!

[09:16] You seem really fun 😀

[09:16] And it helps that your hot

[09:16] You’re^

Shit shit shitting shit, that is way overboard for a reply. What the fuck have I done? Oh dear lord, well Boa, it was nice knowing ya! I don’t blame you for blocking me and running to the hills!

Some more general swiping ensued as Lemon awaited some replies, she started aimlessly swiping again through the single ladies of Ontario.

Scarlett, 29

Within 10 miles

Hmm, she looks like she has a bit of filler in those lips but she still looks hot, I like her tattoos, and HOLY SHIT SHE’S EATING FIRE fuck yeah, okay Scarlett! I’ll take that!

Ilona, 25

Within 10 miles

Okay I love her make-up, I love her style… all her photos are selfies, does that mean she has no friends? Don’t be silly, Lem, my camera roll is full of selfies and I’m just fine. I think. Hey, Ilona!

Starzy, 38

Within 10 miles

Oh wow, she’s hot. Her bio literally says, “Call me mother”. That has to be the hottest thing I have ever read, yes please!

After a few more likes and dislikes, Kiara’s name lit up at the top of her screen. Not wanting to seem too keen, she waited a monumental thirty seconds before checking the message.

[09:22] I work on a movie set, but nothing glamorous, I help with hair and makeup. It pays my rent 🙂 I am pretty tired today but I have a deadline soon so I have to keep writing ☹️ where do you work? x

Just as she was thinking of the best way to word her current, work-less situation, a reply also came in from Rita, which Lemon accidentally clicked on sooner than she meant to, completely blowing her cool façade.

[09:25] I’ve never heard that one before…

Lemon’s heart sank at the thought of her impending rejection, but a new message arrived seconds later.

[09:25] At least look up how to say it less formally, I’m not that old!!!!

Smiling at the thought of Rita not automatically hating her – not outright rejecting her – Lemon started to type a reply, but stopped when a third message appeared.

[09:26] Mais si je dis oui, es-tu vraiment libre ce soir? ;-)

Somehow, the more Lemon stared at the words, the less sense they made. She now severely regretted passing her time in French class admiring Madame Benet’s assortment of leopard-print clothing, rather than actually learning. But there was a winky face at the end, which made her heart race, even without understanding the rest of it. Highlighting the text and taking it straight to Google, she couldn’t help but bite her lip as she got Rita’s point.

[09:30] Wee wee, madame 💛 give me a place and a time xx

As much as she may have been looking forward to a good night’s sleep tonight, she still felt the swarm of butterflies flap around her tummy at the thought of Rita’s hands on her, telling her she was a good girl… Don’t get carried away yet, dummy, save it for tonight! I need a cold shower if I’m going to survive the next few hours. Before jumping into action mode, though, the first thing Lemon needed was a nap.

Rousing awake a few hours later, she padded downstairs to make herself a sandwich and a tea, continuously checking her phone with the hope tha Rita had replied. Met with silence, she then took her time to shower, deep conditioning her golden blonde hair and shaving everywhere she could, so she could at least feel better prepared than she had yesterday. Not that a grown-up adult lady like Rita would mind, of course, but it’s all part of getting in the zone, Lemon hummed to herself as she let the water wash away any anxiety she might have had about tonight.

She already knew what underwear she would wear: her favourite black bra with a light furry trim around the cup, and a lacy black thong. She was so sure that Rita was on the same page about how the night would end, she felt like she didn’t have to worry too much about what went over it, opting for indigo skinny jeans and a beige polo-neck. By the time she had finished her makeup, it was almost 5pm, and she still didn’t know the plan. Sitting up on her bed, contemplating how she would explain to her parents that she was spending the night out again, she once again opened the app, hoping that Rita hadn’t backed down. With still no reply, she couldn’t help the frustration which bubbled inside her, she didn’t spend so long stretching to shave the backs of her thighs for nothing! Even more discouraging was the lack of reply from Kiara… until she looked at the last message sent, and realised that she’d unwittingly left the poor girl on read.

Shit, I thought I’d replied already! That explains it… now how to explain that I’m a dancer who doesn’t dance anymore and has moved back in with my parents with no ambition to find anything else anytime soon?

[16:58] You’re a busy lady! What do you study? 😊

[16:59] I’m a dancer, currently hopping from audition to audition, hoping somebody likes me enough!

The reality was that Lemon hadn’t attended any auditions for over a month. She had tried to throw herself into her work after the break-up, but had soon realised that with a broken heart came an enormous lack of drive. She told the contemporary company she was a member of that she needed a break, and they told her to not bother coming back. So here she was, hoping that one day she’d once again wake up with a flame inside of her. Luckily, Kiara didn’t push her to expand on anything just yet.

[17:04] So a bit like Tinder then! Don’t worry, I’m sure lots of people will like you enough… in dance and Tinder!

[17:05] I study film and theatre, it’s fun 🙂 but a lot of essays to write in English which takes me forever lol

[17:06] That makes me sound like an idiot!! I promise I’m not, just Québéquoise!!

[17:06] Are you from Toronto? 🙂

Well at least if tonight doesn’t go ahead, I’ve still got a French option for the future, she sighed, running her fingers through her hair as she thought of an answer.

[17:08] Haha, I believe you 😉 my dad is from Portugal, but I think there are 2 year olds who speak better Portuguese than I do 🥺

[17:08] That sounds super interesting! Your job on the side must help a bit then?

[17:08] And I am, Toronto gal born and bred! How long have you lived here?

Just as she was about to put her phone down for the evening and fall into another nap, the message she’d been waiting for finally arrived, and Lemon found herself scrambling to read it.

[17:09] Sorry, lovely Lemon, work was kicking my ass all day. Does Mado’s at 8pm work for you? X

Lemon couldn’t resist one final reply, cementing her intentions.

[17:10] Sounds great, I’m sure I can help that ass feel better 😘 see you soon!! 💛💛

A/N It’s me again, your friendly neighbourhood translator!

“Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?” - Do you want to sleep with me tonight?

“Mais si je dis oui, es-tu vraiment libre ce soir?” - But if I say yes, are you really free tonight?

#rpdr fanfiction #drcan #lemon #kyne #kiara #rita baga #scarlett bobo #ilona verley #anastarzia anaquway #lmid #mermelada #submission #can1

9 notes · View notes

madpanda75 · 6 years ago

Text

“Game Day” Part of Hostage Series

It’s been sooo long since I’ve written about my Barba family. I’ve had this idea in my head for awhile (it’s what I do during staff meetings, daydream about fic ideas).

It’s Mila’s first tee ball game! Also Rafael and the reader defend their marriage. Get ready for some domestic fluffiness, Queen Bees, misogynist pigs, and feisty comebacks 😍❤️

Disclaimer: I haven’t been to a tee ball game since I was a kid so forgive me for my inaccuracies in the art of tee-ball.

Saturdays were typically filled with pancakes, cartoons, and if you and Rafael were lucky, lazy morning sex, but today was different. It was opening day for Mila’s tee ball team and the Barba family was in full swing, preparing snacks and wrangling three kids to make it to the game on time.

While you were in the kitchen getting everything ready for the day, Rafael sat in the middle of the living room, keeping an eye on Mila and the twins. A smile slowly spread across his face as he watched Rory rock back and forth on her hands and knees. “Y/N! Come here! I think this is it. I think she’s gonna do it! I think she’s about to crawl!”

Rafael was determined to witness his daughter’s milestone. A few weeks earlier Ben began to crawl but unfortunately Rafael was in court and missed the event. Although you had taken a video, it wasn’t the same as being there to see his son scoot across the floor. He now understood why you were so upset when you had missed Mila taking her first steps.

“You can do it! Come on muñequita,” Rafael cooed.

Mila stopped practicing her swings and tapped on Rafael’s shoulder. “Papi, that’s wrong. I your moony-quita. Not her!” She furrowed her brows, placing one hand on her hip while the other pointed to her baby sister.

Rafael turned towards his oldest daughter, running a hand through her curls. “Of course you’re my muñequita. But so is your sister. You’re both my muñequitas, ok?”

“I guess that ok,” Mila mumbled, glancing between her sibling and her father with a look of skepticism.

“You’re still my number one girl.” He reassured her, kissing her cheek before turning back to Rory, outstretching his arms towards his daughter. “That’s it! Come to Papi!”

Rory grinned, drool dribbling down her cheek as she babbled at her father. Anticipation hung heavy in the air. Just when it looked like she was about to crawl, Ben beat her to the punch. The baby boy had been happily sucking on his toes when he decided to roll over and crawl towards Rafael, giggling as he scooted across the floor.

Watching her brother crawl into Rafael’s arms, Rory plopped down on her belly and began to cry. Her tiny face turning red as crocodile tears streamed down her cheeks. At the sound of his sister’s cries, Ben’s bottom lip quivered. It wasn’t long before he joined in, both babies crying and screaming, creating a cacophony that would wake the dead.

Mila covered both her ears. “Uh oh, they broken.”

Upon hearing your children wail, you ran into the room to find your husband with both babies in his arms, trying to calm them. “What happened?” You shouted to Rafael above the screams.

“I don’t know! One minute Rory was about to crawl, Ben got to me first and now this!” Rafael looked bewildered, motioning to the chaos surrounding him.

You sighed, shaking your head slightly and took Rory from Rafael, rubbing soothing circles on her back. Now that the twins were getting older, their personalities were shining through. Rory may have favored you looks-wise but she was all Barba. You knew the reason for her outburst was because her brother had gotten to Rafael first, leaving her behind. While your sensitive baby boy was crying simply because his sister was.

“Aww pobrecita,” you cooed, bouncing your baby girl up and down. “It’s ok, mi amor. No more tears.” You glanced down at Mila and smiled, watching her put on her tee ball helmet. For the past few weeks, the tiny toddler insisted on wearing it around the house, only taking the helmet off during bath time. “You ready for your big game, baby?”

“Yep, we gonna crush them!” She exclaimed, jumping up and down.

You bit back a laugh. Who knew that four year olds had such a ruthless competitive streak. “Just remember to have fun. It doesn’t matter if you win or lose.”

“Yeah! Have fun crushing them.” Mila bared her teeth and growled before going back to practicing her swings.

Once the twins quieted down, you and Rafael placed both babies in their activity centers, hoping that would keep them entertained. “Mila, keep an eye on your brother and sister while Papi and I finish getting ready.”

You scampered off to the kitchen to finish preparing snacks for the game while Rafael retrieved the cooler from the hallway closet. He stopped in his tracks when he spied you standing on your tiptoes with your back to him, trying to grab a box of ziploc baggies from the top cupboard.

You were in full momma-mode, wearing a t-shirt that had Mila’s team name emblazoned on the back, a pair of denim shorts, and canvas sneakers. The casual outfit proved alluring to Rafael. It was simple yet sexy. Of course in Rafael’s eyes, you could be dressed in a potato sack and be sexy. A smirk tugged at his lips as he looked you over, drinking in your long legs, admiring your ass and the way your shirt rode up, revealing a strip of bare skin on the small of your back.

Rafael snuck up behind you and playfully tugged on your braid. He reached up and grabbed the baggies, handing them to you before winding his arms around your waist, dropping a kiss right below your ear, inhaling the sweet scent of your vanilla body spray.

You softly moaned in response, leaning back into his touch as his fingers skimmed the waistband of your shorts. “Excuse me, sir. My husband will be home any minute.”

“Your husband, hmm? You didn’t mention a husband last night while you were riding me,” Rafael purred, playing along with your little game.

“Must have slipped my mind.” You giggled and tilted your head, granting him further access as he continued to kiss down your neck.

“Does your husband make you come as hard I can,” he whispered, gently biting down your earlobe.

You turned to face him and wrapped your arms around his neck. “I don’t know. He’s pretty skilled.”

“Skilled? Well I guess I’ll just have to fuck you again. Make you forget all about that husband of yours.” He pushed you up against the counter causing you to gasp in surprise.

“Guess you will,” you whispered against his lips, kissing him deeply, tasting the remnants of coffee and mint on his tongue. “But later. Right now I need to place organic non-GMO fruit in baggies for a team of four year olds.” You reluctantly pulled away from Rafael and began to place dragon fruit and kumquats into the cooler, also sneaking in some extra baggies of grapes and orange slices. If your suspicions were correct, you knew the majority of the team, including your four year old, would be less than enthusiastic about the pretentious unusual fruit.

Rafael picked up a thick packet of paper that was tossed aside on the counter and snorted a laugh. “Dear Lord, what is this?”

You rolled your eyes. “Ugh a list of pre-approved snacks for toddlers, courtesy of Missy Schultz.” Missy Schultz was the Queen Bee in your neighborhood. She was leader of the Booster Club for Mila’s team, President of the PTA and a colossal pain in the ass. When you were pregnant with the twins, she stopped to lecture you for an hour about the benefits of eating your placenta. It took all your strength not to punch her in the face whenever you encountered her at any school or team function.

“The bar exam wasn’t as complicated as this,” Rafael mumbled, flipping to the back of the packet to review the appendix section.

You finished packing the cooler and looked over at your husband. He was wearing khakis shorts, a blue polo, and boat shoes. Even after six years together, it was still strange to see him in such a casual look. Rafael dressed to impress. His sharp tailored suits combined with his silver tongue was part of what defined him in the courtroom. His suspenders alone were enough to turn you into a puddle. But at home Rafael was more than an ADA, he was a husband and father. At home, he could relax.

Sensing your eyes on him, Rafael glanced over at you. “What?” He asked, popping a grape into his mouth.

“Nothing, it’s just...well look at us. Scrambling to get out the door before 9 am on a Saturday,” you said. “Remember when we used to have naked weekends?”

Way back before kids came into the picture, you and Rafael would spend your rare weekends off completely naked. Your Saturdays and Sundays would be spent having sex in every room of your apartment, cuddling and ordering takeout whenever you needed nourishment for the next round of lovemaking. You loved your lazy weekends with Rafael. It was a chance to escape from work and responsibilities, where nothing else mattered, just the two of you, living in your own little world.

Rafael groaned and playfully pinched your ass. “How could I forgot naked weekends. In fact, I vote we bring back naked weekends.”

“Papi, I don’t think we’ll be able to have a naked weekend for at least 18 more years.”

“Mami has been asking to have a sleepover with the kids,” he purred, snaking an arm around you. “I can’t promise a naked weekend, but how about a naked Saturday?”

“You got yourself a deal, Counselor.” You kissed him hard, your tongue snaking into his mouth, running your fingers through his hair. Pulling back, you straightened the collar of his shirt, looking him over one more time. “When did we become such parents?”

He grinned and rubbed the back of his neck, looking towards the living room. “Call me crazy but I think it’s when we decided to get married and have kids.”

Following his gaze, you came across a sight that made your heart melt. There was Mila standing in between the twins demonstrating to them the perfect pitch. Rory and Ben intently watched their big sister, babbling and sucking on their teething toys while she pretended to hit a home run.

You softly smiled at your children before glancing at the wall clock. “Oh we gotta go. Don’t wanna be late and face the wrath of Missy Schultz.” You walked back to the living room and picked up the twins. Rafael followed with the cooler in his hand, ushering Mila out the door for her first game.

*****

After dropping off Mila and a quick diaper change for Ben, Rafael walked over to the bleachers. He sat down next to you and Rory, warily watching the group of tiny toddlers on the field. “Oh God, I’m getting little league flashbacks. Of all the sports, Mila could pick from, why did she pick this.” He shook his head. “We shouldn’t be subjecting her to this type of pressure at such a young age. I mean one wrong game and you’re called “Bad Ball Barba” for the rest of the season.”

You snorted a laugh, playfully nudging his shoulder. “Papi, our little perfectionist has been practicing for weeks, I think she’ll be fine and besides maybe Mila will take after me and actually know how to hit the ball.” You winked, bopping Rafael on the nose with your index finger.

Rafael placed a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “That’s cold, baby.”

Just then a pungent smell hit your nose. You and Rafael exchanged a glance before looking down at Rory who was in desperate need of a diaper change.

“First Ben, now you,” he mumbled, his eyes darting between both babies. “Do you think they plan this?”

The twins giggled and for a split second you could have sworn you saw matching mischievous expressions on their faces. “Oh definitely. We’ll be right back. I told Sonny I’d meet him at the front anyways.” You got up with Rory and walked to the bathroom.

Rafael sat with Ben on his lap. The baby grinned and stared up at his father with big green eyes, reaching up with his chubby hands to grab the gold cross hanging around Rafael’s neck. A smile tugged at his lips as he snuggled closer to his son. “Hey, mijo. Papi loves you so much,” he softly said, kissing him on the forehead.

“Hi guys,” Olivia waved and walked up to Rafael, grabbing a seat on the bleachers.

“Liv, what are you doing here?” He asked, surprised to see the lieutenant at his daughter’s game.

She quirked an eyebrow at him. “Nice to see you too, Barba. Your wife invited me.”

“Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting you to be here. Where’s Noah?”

“Noah is at day camp right now and the house is way too quiet without him so I thought I’d stop by and get some baby time in.” She smiled at Ben and reached out to take him from Rafael. “Hi Ben. You’re getting to be such a big boy!” She cooed, bouncing the baby in her lap.

Rafael smiled and watched his son giggle with Olivia when he heard someone call his name. Turning towards the voice, he inwardly cringed when he saw his old partner, Blaine Driscoll. He and Blaine worked together at a private law firm before Rafael joined the District Attorney’s office. Blaine was a materialistic lecherous creep. He was greedy and shallow, caring only about making money and chasing tail rather than getting justice. It was people like Blaine Driscoll that made Rafael leave the private sector.

“Rafael Barba, you ol’ son of a bitch!” Blaine practically yelled causing a few parents to stare disapprovingly at the person who was cursing feet away from their children.

Rafael let out a long breath and plastered a smile on his face. “Blaine, what a surprise to see you here.”

“Yeah, my niece or nephew or god-whatever is playing so I thought what the hell and get this whole family function thing over with,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes. “What about you? Don’t tell me you have a kid.” He playfully punched Rafael in the shoulder a little too hard.

“Actually I have three. My oldest daughter is playing. It’s her first game,” Rafael nodded towards the field, rubbing his shoulder a bit.

“Well fuck me gently with a chainsaw. I never would have pegged you for being a family man.”

“Life is full of surprises,” Rafael replied who took a fussy Ben back from Olivia.

“That it is.” Blaine smiled and observed Rafael with the baby before looking Olivia over. “So how’d you nail down this son of a gun?” He asked the lieutenant.

Rafael and Olivia turned towards each other and laughed, shaking their heads. “No we’re not together. My wife is over there.” Rafael pointed to where you were standing next to Sonny talking to a tall blonde woman. From a distance he could see how angry you were and wondered if everything was ok.

Blaine followed Rafael’s gaze and whistled when he saw you. “Damn Barba, you’re batting WAY out of your league. I see you got yourself a little trophy wife. How the hell did you nab that hot piece of ass?”

Rafael’s eyes widened. “I beg your pardon!” Olivia’s jaw dropped, she could see smoke practically fuming from her friend’s ears.

Blaine ignored him and continued. “She played her cards right, snatching up an older man and saddling you with three rugrats.” He clucked his tongue and shook his head, looking sympathetically at Rafael. “Tough break, but take my advice and stick through it. Alimony can be a bitch in the state of New York.” He looked around before leaning closer. “If you ever need a little honey on the side. I can hook you up with someone hotter and younger.” He winked at his old partner. “Well, I better get going. See ya’ around, Barba.”

A heat began to creep up on Rafael’s neck. He saw red hearing his old partner talk about you in such a degrading manner. As Blaine walked away, Rafael gave Ben back to Olivia before standing up and grabbing him by the shoulder. He turned him around and got right in the man’s face.

“What the hell, Barba!” Blaine tried to move away but Rafael had a vice-like grip on his shoulder.

“You listen to me and you listen good. I don’t ever want to hear you talk about my wife. That’s the mother of my children and my family. You do it again and you’ll regret it,” Rafael told the man in a dangerously low tone.

Blaine smiled and shrugged Rafael off. “Is that a threat?”

“It’s a promise,” Rafael calmly replied, although his fists were shaking with rage. “Leave my family alone. Don’t talk to us. Don’t even look at us, you got that?”

“Sorry, won’t happen again.” Blaine held his hands up in surrender and walked away.

Rafael let out a shaky breath and ran a hand over his face, sitting back down and taking his son back from Olivia. “Wow, I’m impressed,” she said with a smirk. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like that before, not even in the courtroom. You really told that creep off.”

Rafael nodded and held Ben close, stroking his dark curly hair. “Y/N and the kids, they’re my life. My heart. I would do anything to defend them especially from misogynist pigs.”

“I know, Barba,” Olivia softly said, squeezing her friend’s shoulder. “I know.”

*****

You changed Rory in record time. Placing her back in the baby carrier, you walked out of the bathroom, meeting your partner. “Hey, Sonny! Thanks for coming!”

“No problem. I wouldn’t miss Mila’s first game. What kinda godfather would I be, huh?” He tickled Rory’s feet causing the baby to squirm and giggle in delight.

Just then a shrill voice called your name. “Mrs. Barba?!”

You closed your eyes and groaned. “Is there a tall blonde woman in athleisure wear running towards me?” You asked your partner.

He nodded his head. “Yep, right behind you.”

You turned around, coming face to face with Missy Schultz. “Hi, Mrs. Schultz. How can I help you.”

“I was just heading back to my seat and I couldn’t help but notice that you use a baby carrier. You know researchers say you should really use a baby wrap. Not only is it environmentally-friendly but it holds the baby in a comfortable position, very similar to the way the child was in utero. It also strengthens the bond between mommy and baby, and-”

“Thank you, Mrs. Schultz,” you politely interrupted, knowing that you would be standing there for an hour listening to her praise the benefits of baby wrapping. “I’ll take that into consideration but I really need to go. I don’t want to miss Mila play.”

“Oh of course. We can talk after the game.” She smiled and looked over at Sonny, extending her hand to him. “Forgive me for being so rude. This must be the famous Mr. Barba. Mila talks about you all the time. You’re her hero.”

Sonny and you exchanged a glance and laughed. “Actually this is my partner from work and Mila’s godfather. My husband is over there with my son.” You pointed towards the bleachers where Rafael was talking to another man.

Missy’s eyes widened as she looked over Rafael. “Oh...yes. I noticed him dropping Mila off this morning. That’s...uhhh surprising.” She gave you a tight polite smile.

You knitted your eyebrows in confusion “Why would that be surprising?”

“Oh it’s nothing.” She waved you off. “Forget I said anything.”

You took a step towards her and continued. “It doesn’t seem to be nothing. Something seems to be “surprising” about my relationship with my husband.”

“It’s just hearing you and Mila talking about your husband. I was expecting someone younger, not someone who is about to qualify for his AARP card. I guess I’m different and didn’t want my kids raised by someone old enough to be their grandfather, but to each their own.”

“Excuse me!” You shouted.

“Y/N,” Sonny warned. “Let’s forget about it and go.”

“Not a chance! Take my baby!” You handed Rory to your partner before getting right in Missy’s face.

There was a twelve year gap between you and Rafael. At the beginning of your relationship, you heard concerns about your age difference from friends and family but you let it roll off your back. Age didn’t matter. You knew in your heart Rafael was the only man for you. But hearing Missy make snide remarks about your husband caused something inside you to snap.

“Let me tell you something, Missy. That man is my husband and the love of my life. He’s also an incredible and dedicated father. If I ever hear you say anything about him or my family again, I’ll shove that pre-approved snack pamphlet so far up your ass, you’ll have paper cuts on your tongue,” you threatened. She gasped in horror, clutching her chest. You walked away before turning around to make one last point. “Oh and one more thing, Rafael is dynamite in the sack. He makes me scream so loud even you would be able to hear it from your little Park Avenue palace. After a night with him, I’m lucky I can even walk. Remember that next time you want to comment on my man.”

Sonny’s jaw dropped, blushing profusely as he tried to cover Rory’s ears. You smiled at Missy and walked back to your partner, taking the baby from him. “Let’s go, Sonny.”

Sonny shrugged at Missy before following you to the bleachers. “Wow!” He whistled, his mind completely blown at your tirade. “Barba is one lucky guy to have you defend him like that.”

“I’m the lucky one, Sonny.”

He smiled and nodded his head. “Just do me a favor. Don’t ever tell me what you two do in the bedroom. I don’t need that image seared into my brain.”

“You should have seen what he did to me last night,” you teased, nudging his shoulder.

Sonny groaned in response. “Stop, I’m gonna be sick.”

While making your way to the bleachers, the man you saw Rafael talking to earlier brushed past you and Sonny. He looked visibly shaken. “Hey guys. Everything ok?” You asked, sitting next to your husband.

“Everything’s good,” Rafael replied. Olivia smiled and nodded her head in agreement. He took hold of your hand and interlocked his fingers with yours. “Are you guys ok?”

“Never better.” You glanced over at Sonny who was still blushing from earlier and winked. Turning your attention back to the field, you watched as Mila came up to the plate. “Oh she’s next!”

The little girl smiled brightly and waved at you and Rafael. “Look, that’s your sister.” He pointed Mila out to the twins. Rory and Ben shrieked with excitement, bouncing up and down in your’s and Rafael’s laps when they saw her. Rafael held his breath as Mila swung her bat, smacking the ball and sending it flying across the field, hitting a home run. You, Rafael, Sonny, and Olivia stood up and cheered as the toddler ran the bases.

“Way to go, muñequita!” Rafael exclaimed, capturing it all on video. He wrapped an arm around you and planted a sweet kiss on your lips. Pulling away, he couldn’t help but stare, completely mesmerized by you. Years ago, Rafael had made peace with the fact that he was going to end up old and alone, married to his job. Then one day you came and changed everything and here he was married with three beautiful children. The happiest he had ever been in his life and it was all because of you.

You blushed under his gaze. “What?”

“Nothing, it’s just...I love you.” He smiled, kissing each of the twins before kissing you one more time, gently caressing your cheek.

“I love you too,” you replied, nuzzling your nose against his before resting your head on his shoulder, watching the rest of the game.

Neither of you would ever tell the other what happened with Missy and Blaine because it didn’t matter what people thought. The only thing that mattered was your love for one another and the family you created out of that love.

@glimmerglittergirl @southern-magnolia @sweetcannolicarisi @delia26 @obfuscateyummy @sass-and-suspenders @eclecticminded @thatesqcrush @katmstanton @amirightcounsellor @beltzboys2015-blog @letty-o @sonnysdoll @lyssa1385 @sweetsummertime99 @burningsorr0ws @gibbs274 @izzythefanfreak @riodallas @babypink224221 @livxrafa @esparza-army @obsessionprofessional @ottosuricato

#rafael barba #rafael barba fanfic #rafael barba fic #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba x reader #barba #barba fic #barba imagine #Rafael Barba x Reader x Mila #Mila Barba #aurora barba #benjamin barba #hostage series #law and order svu fic #law and order svu imagine

128 notes · View notes

thiswasinevitableid · 5 years ago

Note

I would love for you to do the sharing favours professionally from the rivalry/ friends to enemies to lovers for the prompt fill for indruck? (I'm on mobile so can't copy the whole prompt) 😁

“ we’ve been begrudgingly sharing favours back and forth to help each other out professionally but this time i need you to do something more personal and you know you wouldn’t have gotten that account without my help last month or that promotion so you owe me.”

Content note: There’s a brief description of Indrid’s ex being verbally shitty to him.

“No, nuh uh, aboslutely no fuckin way.” Duck maneuvers the last butterfly bush into its display row, stands up to find Indrid glaring at him.

“Why not?”

“Indrid, we see plenty of each other at work. I’m not gettin roped into some evenin shindig with you just because you asked.”

He heads inside, the skinny, pale-haired man on his heels.

“Duck, please, I help you out all the time.”

“Yeah, with work. And it’s only now and then.” He settles behind the counter, checking off the deliveries that have already happened. Indrid stays on the other side of it.

“Oh, really?” he arches a dark eyebrow (of course the guy dyes his hair), “what about the time I made sure city hall chose us for the five year landscaping contract even when you were the one who was supposed to be working on winning them over?”

“That how we’re playin?” Duck leans on his elbows, staring Indrid down, “because I seem to recall it was me who helped convince Mama that havin a little florists space so you could do your arrangements was a swell idea.”

Indrid opens his mouth to retort when the phone rings.

Duck grabs it, “Mama’s Nursery and Landscapin, Duck speakin. Oh, howdy Winthrop. Yep, expectin the last orders this week, then we’ll get started on that zen garden. Uh huh. I see. We’ll see what we can do. You have a nice day now.”

He clicks the phone off, “I hate the rich bastard, but he wants us to do the landscapin on their summer home, which’ll be a nice chunk of change.”

“See! There’s another one you owe me. You have such a hard time being in the room with him, the only reason we got the hospital garden job is because I turned on the charm.”

“Is that what you call it when you get that weird smile on your face?”

Indrid groans in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose. When his hand drops away he looks...defeated.

He and Duck may bicker, may compete from time to time, but Indrid’s a good guy. Hell, Duck will even admit (begrudgingly) that he often enjoys how much the two of them work together.

Duck sighs, forces his brain to switch from arguing mode to problem solving mode, “Indrid, what’s all this about?”

“I told you, I have an art showing.”

“Right, but why do you need me to go. Why do you need anyone, ain’t your job at those to make small talk and hope people say nice things about your drawins?”

Indrid swallows, picks at the front of his work apron, “He’s going to be there.” He says meekly.

“He-oh fuck, you mean The Shithead?”

Indrid nods.

“He tryin to pull some stunt to make you take him back?”

Indrid laughs bitterly, “no, he’s been all over his social media bragging about how he’s going to turn up with a hot date to my show, “show me what I gave up” and all that. Dani saw it and warned me so he couldn’t take me by surprise. I have so few friends in town, and everyone but you has work or something else that night. I thought it would be nice to have someone I knew with me.”

Duck thinks about Indrid’s ex. The guy’d come into the shop plenty of times, often making a big show of putting a possessive arm around Indrid (who never seemed to enjoy the gesture). At least, that’s what he always did when Duck was around. Worse, whenever Indrid was describing a new landscaping design, or working on an arrangement, the ex would pick at it, say how it was bad or lacking, that it would never work and no one would like it. And Duck would watch the glimmer dim in Indrids’ eyes, watch him go quiet (find him more than once sniffling and wiping his eyes furiously in an outbuilding once the guy left).

He looks back at the other man, who is staring at his scuffed converse.

“Where am I meetin you and what time should I get there?”

--------------------------------------

Duck gives a tight smile to the group of hip twentysomethings crowding the door of the building as he squeezes through. It’s some art space/ coffee house/ bar that isn’t quite his scene, although he likes that it’s warm and lively as opposed to the fluorescent lights and weird silence he was expecting.

He doesn’t spot Indrid right away, and so takes a moment to look at the drawings on the wall. They’re Indrid’s alright, he can recognize the ways they overlap with the sketches he does for arrangements or the plans he draws up for gardens. And they’re incredible, black and white with pops of color, a few abstract or dreamlike but many seeming more like still lifes.

One in particular catches his eye and he stares at for a good two minutes, trying to figure out why it looks so familiar.

“Ahem.”

He turns, and has to forcibly stop his jaw from dropping.

Indrid is in dark slacks and some sort flowy black shall-jacket thing over a bright red shirt. His hair is tousled on purpose, rather than from getting it caught on plants.

Has he always looked this good?

“Thanks for coming.” He says awkwardly, extending one of the two glasses he’s holding to Duck.

“This all looks amazin.” Duck says, taking the drink with a smile. Indrid relaxes at that.

“Oh, I’m, uh, glad you like it.”

“What’s this one of?” Duck points to the drawing he’d been staring at.

“It’s of a really lovely, big cork oak up on one of the eastwoods trails. I like to go there on weekends and sketch.”

“Hold up, that the trail that ends at the little lake?”

“Yes.”

“No fuckin way! I hike that nearly every weekend. Amazed I’ve never seen you.”

“I’m usually off the trail a little ways.” He grins sheepishly when Duck looks aghast at this confession, “I know that’s not allowed but I’m able to get such different perspectives on the things I draw.”

“If, uh, if you wanted to, maybe we could go up together some time. Could leave you to do your drawin while I hiked and then, dunno, maybe get lunch of somethin?”

Indrid looks a little surprised at the suggestion, but recovers quickly, “That sounds quite nice, actually.”

Duck stays by Indrid as he makes the rounds, asking him about the different drawings and enjoying the way he animatedly describes the process and idea behind each.

The Shithead arrives about forty-five minutes in. Duck spots him first, complete with a date on his arm. The date is tall, slender, with pale hair, looking like Indrid if he were a model rather than just a regular guy. Or, Duck thinks as he watches the ex preen, as if someone took Indrid and erased all the things that made him so interesting to look at.

“Ex just got here.” He murmurs, and Indrid stiffens beside him. Duck, seized with a sudden need to protect him from that jerk, places an arm reassuringly on his lower back. Indrid glances at him, face unreadable, but relaxes into the touch. For the next fifteen minutes, whenever The Shithead makes a loud, derisive comment, Duck will squeeze Indrids hand or brush his fingers down his back and Indrid will shake off the words.

There are several people wanting to buy drawings and so Indrid excuses himself to go thank them.

“Knew you’d be the one to pick up the scraps.” Says a familiar, unpleasant voice.

Duck turns, levels The Shithead with his most disinterested gaze.

“Nice to see you too. And I ain’t got the slightest clue what you’re referrin to.”

“He was always talking about you. ‘Oh, Duck knows so much about native plants,’ ‘oh, Duck has such good ideas.’” He says it in a mocking, high pitched imitation of Indrids lilt and Duck wonders if he can get away with physically throwing him out of the building.

“Anyway, it doesn’t surprise me that when I traded up, he went crawling to you. Honestly, you can do much better.”

“Beg pardon?” Duck growls.

“Let me see, how to put this in terms you understand? Why waste your time on a weed when you could have a prizewinning rose?”

“Because,” Duck says through gritted teeth, “sometimes people call things weeds just cause they don’t behave exactly how they want ‘em too, or because they don’t see the value in ‘em.” He steps closer to the ex, not noticing that he’s stopped whispering, “You fucked up. You were shitty and Indrid had the good sense to dump you and now you’re doin some petty shit to try and hurt him. He’s amazin at what he does, he works hard, he’s funny, and he’s so handsome I wanna look at him every damn day. You didn’t see the value in him. That’s your loss. Now fuck. Off.”

The Shithead is about to say something when a hand grabs his shoulder. His date is behind him, looking pissed.

“Hold on, you asked me out to try and hurt your ex?”

“Uhhh, babe, no, I can explain.”

Duck smirks, turns to check on Indrid just in time to see him slip out a side door.

“Goddammit.” He mutters, quickly following him.

The door opens into an alley, and Indrid is standing with his back to him. When he turns, his hands are over his mouth and his eyes are wet. But he doesn’t look unhappy.

“You like me.” He whispers.

“Uh” Duck scrambles, “well, yeah, we’re, uh, friendly types, fuck.”

“You think I’m handsome.”

“Shit, you heard all of that?”

Indrid nods, Duck sighs.

“Fuck it. Yeah, I think you’re handsome. And all the other stuff. And lots of, uh, other stuff that I didn’t say but could’ve.

Indrid steps closer, “Is the part where you admit all our arguing has been the only safe outlet for your, um, passion for me?”

Duck snorts, “Hell no, sometimes you need a fella who’ll tell when an idea ain’t feasible. But…” He meets Indrids hopeful gaze and smiles, “I’d be lyin if I said I ain’t thought about what it’d be like to be a different kind of partner to you.”

Indrid reaches for him, and Duck goes willingly into his arms as the taller man blushes and says, “Yes, I’ve thought about that quite a lot as well.”

------------------------------------------

Dani’s glad Indrids’ show is open so late. It means she and Aubrey can go once Aubreys’ act is over. She even texted Jake and Hollis, asking if they wanted to check it out too (also, if Indrid’s ex was there, having someone who looked like, and basically was, the head of a motorcycle gang would come in really handy).

When the four of them reach the bar, she peeks in hoping to see Indrid, but can’t spot the taller man (or Duck) anywhere.

“Huh, maybe he left?”

“Or maybe he’s taking a little ‘break.’” Hollis makes airquotes before pointing up. They all look towards the balcony, which clearly isn’t in use for the party.

It is, however, in use for the two figures currently occupying it for a long and intense looking kiss. One is wearing red glasses, the other lets out a laugh that unmistakably belongs to Duck Newton.

“We should give them some privacy.” Aubrey says. The other three look at her, and then she grins.

“Just kidding! WOOOOOO GET IT DUCK!”

“ABOUT FUCKING TIME DUDES.”

“GET A ROOM!”

“I’M SORRY ABOUT THEM BUT GOOD FOR YOU!”

----------------------------------

The sound of his friends catcalling them breaks Ducks concentration for all of two seconds. Then he flips them the bird, and goes back to the very important business of making out with his boyfriend.

#Prompt Fills #indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #AUs #taz aus

82 notes · View notes

arysafics · 5 years ago

Text

What You Need

Summary: Clarke sends Bellamy a 'Happy Father's Day, Daddy" text, leading Bellamy to believe she's pregnant. Except she's not.

Prompt: established relationship where Clarke sends a “happy fathers day daddy” to Bellamy but he misunderstands, thinking she’s pregnant but in reality she just has a kink

Rated E, ~2.2k words

Clarke’s thumb hovers over the send button. She’s staring up at her phone, lying on her bed, her feet on the pillow end. She hasn’t felt this anxious about a text since she and Bellamy first crossed the line from friends to lovers.

She reads over it again, even though she knows exactly what it says. It’s just one sentence, after all.

Happy Father’s Day, Daddy.

Her cunt pulses just reading the word, thinking about him being her daddy. She’s been wanting to bring it up with him for months. Since they first got together, really. But she’s nervous. What if he thinks it’s fucked up, or just plain gross?

She knows realistically, the worst that will happen is he’ll tell her he’s not into it, and they’ll just continue on with their perfectly normal sex life. But he’ll always know.

And it’s not like their sex life isn’t already fantastic. It’s just that this one little thing would make it so much better.

So her plan is, send him this text, it being Father’s Day and all, and if he’s not into it, she can play it off as a joke. It’s foolproof.

She hits send, her heart racing, and she already regrets it. She groans, dropping her phone onto the bed and turning over onto her stomach, pressing her face against the mattress. He’s totally going to think she’s insane and break up with her.

Her phone pings with a text message, and Clarke scrambles to pick it up, heart pounding even harder now. She’s hardly breathing as she opens Bellamy’s reply.

Are you being serious?

Clarke bites her lip. Is that a you’re sick and need help ��are you being serious?’ Or is it a I really hope you’re not joking ‘are you being serious?’

She considers telling him she’s just joking. But then she won’t get what she wants. And she really, really wants it.

I’m being serious.

This time, she stares at her phone, waiting for him to respond.

I’m coming over right now.

Clarke jerks upright. He’s coming over. That means he approves, right? Means he’s into it too, and wants to fuck her right now while she calls him daddy.

She throws her phone down and gets up, using the ten minutes it will take him to get here to make sure she’s presentable for him. She tosses her frumpy pyjamas into the laundry basket and replaces them with something sexier, a little white dress that she imagines he’ll take off her easily. She pulls her hair out and shakes it out with her fingers, then races to the bathroom to brush her teeth, her heart thrumming with anticipation the whole time.

He knocks on the door minutes later, and Clarke hurries to open it. His mouth is on hers before she can get a word out. Clarke smiles against his mouth as she tries to kiss him back, her arms wrapping around him. Clearly she was worried about nothing.

“You’re not freaked out?” she asks, pulling back from the kiss.

“No, Clarke,” Bellamy says, smiling giddily. “I’m so happy. I’m insanely happy. I know we didn’t plan on it, but you’re happy too, right? Please tell me you’re happy about this.”

Clarke shakes her head, only slightly confused. “Of course I am,” she says. She hoped he might be into it, but his overjoyed reaction is kind of startling.

“When did you find out? How far along are you?”

Clarke frowns. “Huh?”

Bellamy’s hand slides across her stomach. “You don’t know?” he asks. Clarke’s heart lurches. Oh. Oh. He thinks she’s pregnant. Which is not a completely unreasonable conclusion to jump to, she realises.

“Bellamy, oh my god,” she says, her face heating up. “I’m not pregnant.”

Bellamy stills, and he frowns in confusion. “You’re not?” Clarke shakes her head, feeling like an idiot. “But your text—you said happy Father’s Day, Daddy. I thought—"

Clarke flushes, glancing at her feet. “That’s—not what I meant. I was just kidding around.”

She looks up at him, and he’s watching her with dark, curious eyes, his pupils blown.

“You want me to be your daddy,” he realises, studying her. Clarke can do nothing but give a short nod, uncomfortable under his scrutinising gaze. “Say it, Clarke,” he says, his voice deep, commanding, thrilling.

“Yes, Daddy,” she says quietly.

“You want me to take care of you, baby?” he coos, reaching out to stroke her face. The change in him is instant. Like the word flipped some switch in him, and he’s immediately in daddy mode. Clarke’s stomach flips over. She nods eagerly. “Course you do,” he says.

He kisses her softly, sweetly, then deepens the kiss, as if he can sense her hunger. His hands come to rest on her ass, and he lifts her up, her legs wrapping around his waist, her arms around his neck.

He carries her to her room, rubbing her ass and giving her tender little kisses as he goes. He drops her onto her bed, and her dress has ridden up to reveal her white cotton panties.

“Tell me what you need, baby,” Bellamy says, dropping to his knees in front of her, running his big hands up her thighs.

“I need you, Daddy. Please. I need you so bad.”

“Should’ve said something sooner,” he says. He kisses the inside of her knee. “Didn’t know how much you needed your Daddy.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” Clarke says.

“It’s okay, baby girl, I know now.” He presses his thumb to her clit through her panties, and Clarke can feel her wetness leak out of her. She’s blushing hard, his voice so deep and soothing, yet arousing at the same time. He sometimes calls her baby anyway, but calling her baby girl gets her so much more heated. She squirms under his touch. “You’ve been so patient, haven’t you? Such a good girl.”

“Yes, Daddy. I’ve been so good.”

“How about we take these panties off, sweetheart? Show Daddy your pussy, hm? Would you like that?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Clarke says. He inches them down, and Clarke wriggles out of them, baring her cunt to him. She’s swollen and wet, aching for him.

“All shaved nice and clean, like Daddy likes it. Good girl,” Bellamy says. He presses a soft kiss just above her slit. “You smell so good, baby girl. Got yourself all nice and wet for me, didn’t you?”

Clarke nods. Her pussy is throbbing, desperate for him inside her. Her whole body is taut, on edge, waiting for him to give her what she wants. His tongue slips into her folds, and a whimper escapes her lips. It’s not enough.

“Please, Daddy,” Clarke whines.

Bellamy pulls back. “What is it, baby? What do you want?”

“I want your cock, Daddy,” Clarke says. “Please.”

“Of course you do, baby girl,” Bellamy says affectionately. “Let’s take your dress off first though, okay?”

Clarke’s hands are shaking as she pulls her dress over her head. Bellamy helps her with it, tossing it aside.

“There we go, that’s better,” Bellamy says. “Naked for Daddy. You’re so pretty, sweetheart. So perfect.” He kisses her breasts, worshipping them. Clarke flushes under his praise, though she already knows how gorgeous he thinks she is.

“Daddy,” Clarke complains. Much as she likes having his lips on her, it’s not what she really needs. He chuckles, pulling away and getting to his feet.

“Okay, baby,” he says. “You need Daddy’s cock, don’t you? I know, I know.”

He undoes his belt first, every movement slow and purposeful. Clarke watches, trying to be patient, knowing he’ll give her what she wants if she can just be good and wait for him to give it to her.

He pulls off his shirt next, and Clarke bites her lip, admiring the way his muscles move. He shirks his pants, and shoes and socks, and then he’s standing there in his boxer briefs, moulded to his hard cock. Hard for her.

He pulls off his underwear, and Clarke scoots backwards on the bed as he steps towards her. Her cunt is absolutely dripping for him, for her daddy’s big hard cock, all for her.

He kneels on the bed in front of her, cradling her in his arms as he kisses her, and gently lowers her down so she’s lying flat on her back.

“Show me where you want my cock, baby,” Bellamy says. Clarke spreads her legs, knees up, and she slides her hand between her legs to show him her pussy.

“Here, Daddy,” she says. “In my pussy, please.”

“Okay, baby girl,” Bellamy coos. “I’m going to fuck you now,” he tells her. “But I need you to be a good little girl and not come until I say so, okay? Or I might have to give you a spanking.”

“Okay, Daddy,” Clarke agrees. “I promise I won’t come until you tell me to.” But if she does, she gets a spanking, which thrills her almost as much as having his cock inside her.

She feels the tip of him enter her opening, the thick head of his cock already stretching her. He always has to take her slow, like he’s afraid he’ll break her if he sheaths himself too quickly. She feels so full with him inside her, complete, like her cunt was made specifically for him.

They stay there for a moment, stilled, connected, as he lets her adjust to his girth.

“That’s my girl,” Bellamy says. “Always take my cock so well, don’t you? Your tight little pussy is so hungry for Daddy’s cock. You ready to keep going?”

Clarke nods eagerly. “Yes, Daddy. I’m ready.”

He starts off slow, rolling his hips against her, watching her as he fucks her. He gradually picks up the pace, falling into a steady rhythm. The sounds of skin on skin, and Clarke’s gasps and moans, as well as Bellamy’s heavy breathing, fill the room.

He builds her up, his cock hitting her just right every time, winding her closer to the orgasm she so desperately craves. She can feel herself getting closer, but Bellamy seems like he’s well off, and he shows no sign of giving her permission to come.

“Daddy,” she whines. “Can I come? Please?”

“No sweetheart, not yet,” he says. Clarke whimpers, and as he keeps fucking her, harder now, she does her best to hold off her orgasm, though her whole body screams for release. She can think of nothing but him, his body on hers, his cock inside her, driving her insane.

She can feel herself climbing closer to the edge, and she knows she won’t be able to hold off much longer. It’s too much, it’s too good. Tears form in her eyes, as she becomes a trembling mess underneath him, desperate to come.

“Daddy,” she manages to get out. “Daddy, please.”

“You’re doing so good, baby girl,” Bellamy tells her. His voice is voice is strained now, and in her haze of desire, Clarke can only hope that means he’s close too. “Okay, baby,” he says. “You can come now. Come for Daddy.”

At his words, Clarke lets herself go, closing her eyes as her orgasm washes over her, the feeling of pure pleasure spreading all over her body. Bellamy follows her over the edge, and he groans as he comes inside her.

He kisses her softly on her cheek before he rolls off her, pulling her against his side. “Good girl,” he whispers. Clarke buries her face into his chest.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she says. She looks up, chin resting on his chest. “I was so worried you were going to think I was weird or fucked up or something.”

Bellamy’s fingers trail lightly across her back. “That’s pretty much why I never asked if you’d call me daddy,” he admits.

“You wanted it too?”

Bellamy nods. “Couldn’t stop think about looking after my baby girl.”

Clarke is silent for a moment, thoughtful. “Yet—when I sent you the message, that wasn’t your first thought. So there must have been something you wanted more.”

Bellamy swallows. “I—uh—”

“You were so excited when I thought I was pregnant.”

“It’s too soon, I know it’s too soon,” he says quietly. “We’ve only been together a few months. We don’t even live together.”

“But you want kids.”

“Yeah,” Bellamy says. “Do you?”

A smile spreads across Clarke’s face. “Yeah. I want to have your babies, Bellamy Blake.”

Bellamy grins, flipping her over so she’s on her back again, and raining kisses over her face. “Can’t wait to get you pregnant,” he tells her.

“Not yet,” Clarke laughs. “But one day. We should definitely live together first.”

“We should,” Bellamy agrees. “We should. Move in with me.”

“What?”

“Or I’ll move in with you. Or we’ll find somewhere to move into together.”

“Move in together?”

“Unless you don’t want to.”

“No!” Clarke says. “I mean, yes. I want to live together.”

They’re both grinning as they try to kiss, their happiness bubbling over.

“And I can take care of my baby girl every day,” Bellamy says.

#bellarke #bellarke fanfiction #the 100 #the 100 fanfiction #mine

65 notes · View notes

m-602 · 5 years ago

Text

The Road to Mayhem

((So I was struggling to come up with a story that wasn’t filled with absolute angst... Then I got the idea to make a bunch of lighthearted one-shots between the sonas over at Discord. Specifically, this includes me, @astel4, @sillypanda3, @foxyfan666‘s Reaper, @kittydoesthings and her void baby Shadow, and @a-fanfic-fan‘s Silver.))

((Also... Yes, M’s full name has been revealed to be “Mikearu”... Yes, he’s in the body of a shadow lich child... No, I’m not giving context as to how that happened. It was a Discord RP and explaining it here would take up WAY too much text space...))

((Warning. There is some swearing here. Sorry!))

((Anyways... I hope you enjoy!))

((Happy Thanksgiving!))

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Panda, put that halberd down right now!”

“No! I don’t think I will!”

That describes basically every day in the house. What would normally be every parent’s nightmare is just an everyday occurrence to the strange family of friends. When you hear about family spending time together, a self-entitled mother chasing around a halberd-wielding feral child wouldn’t even crack top fifteen. And yet… here we are.

Just family things.

Astel: “You’re gonna hurt yourself! Or someone else!”

Panda: “Is that a challenge?~”

A: “Wha- No! Now give it here!”

P: “Nope! This is mine!~”

Well, it would’ve still been hers. But a magical aura around the weapon indicated the end of that. It floats over to Astel’s outstretched hands.

A: “That’s enough, young lady!”

P: “What the fuck?! Give it back!”

She wasn’t giving it back. Mom mode Astel is currently trying to tame the feral child - a hopeless endeavor, yet one she attempts anyone. She cares about her too-

Silver: “Oooh.~ Shiny!~”

And with that, the halberd was out of Astel’s hands, the thief literally sliding the stairs as if they were rails.

A: “Gah! Silver! Get back here!”

Yep… Just family things…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To take a break from the chaos, let’s transition to something every family can relate to - actual family time, of course! The fireplace adorned living room is perfect for this, a familiar, bright blue flame warming the room from the cold, snow-less night. Everyone was simply doing their own thing, relaxing after running out of things to do. Chaos already reigned for most of the day, so it’s time to let order take the wheel. And as expected… it’s rather nice.

Mikaeru: “I go’ ho’ choco!~”

Even better - hot chocolate! Who doesn’t love hot chocolate? The lich, who decided to stay in his child form after the whole memory dive event, was now coming out of the tray filled with mugs. Within each one was a swirling, chocolatey beverage that warmed one to their very spirit. Even Mikearu, who didn’t need to drink or eat, enjoyed the stuff!

He offers one to Kitty. She gently takes a mug from the tray to avoid spilling it. And then proceeds to start slurping it down.

He offers one to Astel. She accepts in a heartbeat. She really loves chocolate…

He offers one to Silver. She immediately stashes it in her backpack. What a strange little thing…

He offers one to Reaper. She accepts it rather quickly as well. Likely for the added warmth.

He offers one to Panda. She’s too busy listening to music through her headphones. That’s fine, though! He just places it next to her in case she wanted it later.

He places his own drink on the table, dashing into the kitchen to put away the tray. When he returns, he’s immediately seated on the couch, finally taking a moment to relax.

Everyone seemed to be enjoying the silence - odd for a “family” of chaotic idiots. It’s around this moment that Panda would try to cause mischief or Silver would… be Silver. But nope. Nothing of the sort here… It’s kind of terrifying how all these people, who were the direct opposite of order in their own ways, could just sit around and enjoy themselves in the quiet.

Subconsciously, he let himself lean on the closest person on the couch… Which turned out to be Kitty. She just shrugged and placed an arm around the child.

He had brought his hot chocolate closer, taking sips of it as the azure flames roared from the fireplace. This is what he had imagined when he thought of “spending time with friends” - it’s not much… but it’s something…

He didn’t even notice his eyes start to flutter close as he drifted off to sleep, a nearly finished mug of hot chocolate at rest on the table in front of him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And judging by all the screaming, we’ve fallen back into the chaotic routine.

Reaper: “Who the hell gave Silver the wheel?!”

A: “Silver, did! She stole the wheel!”

A child who embodies cartoon logic at its finest is probably the last person you want driving the car. Mikearu had been traveling side by side with the vehicle… Now he’s trying to get anyone he can out of the death-mobile’s way. He sends a message to Astel within the shared mind.

M: ”A-Astel! Can’t you stop her?!”

A: “I’m trying! She won’t give me the wheel! She won’t even let me get close, and I’m sitting in the damn driver’s seat!”

Eclipse: “You know… You could always try freezing her like an ice sculpture.~”

Ikearu: [“OR JUST LET ME TEAR HER APART.~”]

M and A: “NOT HELPING!!!”

A cacophony of screams (excluding Silver’s overly enthusiastic laugh) roared from the out of control vehicle as it barreled down the road. People scrambled to jump out of the way - the strugglers were pulled away by a black and blue blur.

S: “Oooh.~ Railroad tracks!”

R,A, and Kitty: “WAIT, WHAT?!”

Yep. They were heading for railroad tracks. Hey, at least there wasn-

*HOOOOOOONK*

There was a train heading down the tracks. Right towards them. And Silver, being the maniacal child she is, wasn’t stopping.

M: “Oh, for the love of-”

Doing the only thing he can think of, he chained the rear wheels of the car, keeping them from spinning. Unfortunately, this also caused them to completely snap of the car due to the amount of force they were exerting. The rear of the car suddenly dropped lower as it slowed down exponentially, coming to a stop just before the tracks. Just in time, too - the train had just passed by them the moment they stopped. Any moment later, and…

Everyone (except Silver, who was still laughing) breathed a sigh of relief as they evacuated the car. Mikearu stood behind the vehicle, massaging his neck. He looked like the embodiment of stress.

M: “You know… A’ leas’ one of you has powers… You could’ve done somethin’, too!”

A: “I was kinda busy trying to get Silver off the wheel!”

R, gesturing to the car: “And I didn’t want *that* to happen.”

K: “Hey, at least we’re all safe…”

Silver had just hopped out of the car at that time.

S: “Woohoo! Let’s go again!”

Everyone else: “NO!!!”

S: “Aww… You’re no fun!”

At least one of them was about to correct her and say they also weren’t crazy… But likely didn’t since that would’ve been a direct lie. Everyone here is crazy - that’s why they’re a “family” after all.

Using Mikearu’s chains, Reaper’s strings, and everyone’s effort (excluding Silver - she’s still mad), they started dragging the car back home… which was quite a ways away from where they were. On the topic of home, a thought crossed Reaper’s mind.

R: “...Was it a good idea to leave Panda by herself in the house?”

Everyone else: “...”

It was safe to say that they were coming back to a trashed living room… And weapons sticking out of the couch.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Speaking of Panda… She’s been acting kind of weird lately… You surely wouldn’t expect her of all people to hold her hands up to Astel and ask to be picked up.

P: “Up?”

The teenager turned mother picked her up upon the request, taking her over to the couch. Panda is rested on her lap as she’s held close.

A: “What’s wrong, hun?”

P: “Me. A-All I do is h-hurt you or Mikey or Reaper or even Kitty. I-I’m a b-bad person…”

A: “That’s not true, hun…”

P: “It is! I’m bad! Bad!”

Astel just held the self-loathing girl in her arms, trying to calm her down. It… was kind of bewildering to see her like this. She’s normally not the kind of person to be this upset over something. Either she shrugs it off or reacts with anger.

A: “...We don’t mind being hurt, y’know?”

P: “T-That doesn’t make sense!”

A: “What I mean is… We don’t mind being hurt if it means you’re okay…”

P: “But why?! W-Why do you care about me?!”

A: “Because we love you.~ We love you for who you are…”

P: “B-But… I’m nothing special… A-All I do is h-hurt-”

A familiar black and blue blur made its way to the couch. Panda suddenly found herself being hugged by a familiar lich child.

M: “You’re special to us! We like havin’ you around! And more importantly, we’re always here for you, Panda!”

P: “...”

The trio just kind of hugged it out, one of them kind of uncomfortable with the sudden affection. But she wasn’t about to ruin the moment… For once, she’ll stay quiet about this…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

E: “‘Stel!! How the hell do you make this shit?!”

A: “*snrk*”

Thanksgiving dinner was taking quite a while to make… Why was that? Because Eclipse had decided it was the perfect time to take over… Right when Astel was starting to make pie and cranberry sauce… Even more unfortunate is the fact that, for some reason, Astel decided to try making both at the same time.

E: “THE CRANBERRIES ARE BOILING OVER!!! ‘STEL, WHAT DO I DO?!”

A: “Literally all you have to do is lift the pot for two minutes, it’s fine.”

I: [“WHO KNEW THE DREADED NIGHTMARE QUEEN WAS A TERRIBLE COOK?~”]

M: “Pffft…”

E: “Quiet! The both of you!”

And of course the other minds are not help either. They’re enjoying the show!

Kitty would’ve helped… If she wasn’t laughing at the Nightmare Queen’s terrible cooking skills, too. Occasionally, a stretchy arm would give her the utensil she needed… But only once or twice.

E: “When the hell am I supposed to take out the pie?!”

A: “Not now, dumbass! I just put it in before you decided to take over!”

E: “Why you-”

M and I: “CAN YOU PLEASE JUST FOCUS ON THE DAMN FOOD?!”

Astel’s shadow trying to cook is proving to be harder to handle than the whole “kill everything” plan. Mainly because even said shadow has no idea what the heck she’s doing. Then again, Eclipse did this to herself when she decided to take over Astel’s body.

E: “What do I do now?!”

A: “Just wait! The food needs to cook!”

The door slamming open cuts them both off… As well as Kitty’s outburst.

K: “Shadow, wha- Did you kill those yourself?!”

Shadow: “Well… duh. How else were we gonna get a proper Thanksgiving dinner?”

K: “We could’ve just bought one!”

The void child just shrugged with two dead turkeys in either hand. Eclipse just stares at the child, coming to the slow realization that they’ll want a cooked turkey.

A: “Sure you don’t want me to cook?~”

E: “Well- Wait, hell no!”

I: [“YES, CAUSE YOU’VE BEEN DOING SO WELL BEFORE…”]

E: “NOT HELPING!!!”

Welp… Sucks to be you, Eclipse.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After much bickering, culinary incompetence, and screeching, Thanksgiving dinner was finished. It’s honestly a miracle the house didn’t burn down with how clueless Eclipse was.

The food was already at the table the moment it was prepared. You can thank Mikearu for that…

Everyone had taken their seats, ready to dig in to the massive meal - even those who didn’t need to eat or didn’t eat normal food were waiting patiently to prepare their plates. Their reasoning?

M: “I’ s’Thanksgivin’! Why wouldn’ I?”

R: “Agreed.”

Sh: “I killed it. That’s all…”

And nothing more was said. Yep, just the usual.

The only problem was convincing Eclipse to give Astel her body back. It took a lot of mental and physical bickering to finally get the Nightmare Queen to give in, with Ikearu not doing the lights any favors.

I: [“SHE COOKED THE FOOD. LETTING HER HAVE ASTEL’S BODY FOR A GOOD WHILE SHOULD BE REWARD PLENT, HM?~”]

M: “Just shut up, you irritating pest.”

I: [GRR… YOU!]

It was as exhausting as it sounds. Definitely made the actual meal itself worth all the trouble. Though all the grumbling in the shared mind indicated that Eclipse wasn’t too happy with the arrangement in any way, shape, or form.

What children…

Surprisingly, the food was delicious! Guess a lot of good fortune saved their skins… and their stomachs.

It was nice. And it was more than just warming silence during a cold night. Everyone was chatting, making jokes, getting on each other’s nerves, the usual. It was all one could ask for a Thanksgiving dinner.

M: “Mm… I’m grateful to have me’ you guys.”

A: “Aw… Same here!”

K: “Yep.”

R: “Happy Thanksgiving, guys!”

Sh: “Heh… Whatever…”

P: “Yep, sure…”

And Silver was stuffing food into her backpack… Again… At least she was eating it, even if she wasn’t actively engaging with anyone else.

For a bunch of idiots on the Road to Mayhem… They were actually having a good time together…

If you didn’t know any better… You could probably call them a real family…

#one-shots #m #mikearu #the discord family #aka #the chaos gang #tw swearing #funny moments #fluffy moments #idiot friends being family #discord shenanigans

16 notes · View notes

imaginedanganronpa · 6 years ago

Note

How would DR2 boys react to waking up their s/o that’s in the middle of sleeping and suddenly they shout some random nonsense that make no sense? Like ‘I DIDN’T USE JUZO’S TOOTHBRUSH TO BRUSH MY DUCK’S TEETH!’

I read this over and over, and I eventually just assumed that ‘they’ meant their S/O so that’s how I wrote it. I hope that’s what you meant!~

SDR2 Boys Waking Up Their Sleeping S/O & They Shout Some Random Nonsense!

Hajime Hinata

He’s a pretty peaceful sleeper. It’s normally pretty easy tosleep beside him because he doesn’t really move and remains calm; he’s still and quiet when he’s finally out.

Hajime finds it harder to fall asleep, though. Typically staying up longer than you do, but he finds comfort in having you beside him. He loves listening to your light breathing by his side.

You’ve been having some episodes lately where you blurt out random things in your sleep.

More than once, you’ve woken up while saying somepretty questionable things. But you can’t help it, it’s always the strangest dreams that end up slipping out!

He never really complains; he actually finds it pretty amusing and will help lull you back to sleep afterwards.

It happened when you were both falling asleep, the two of you were completely still. You were facing one another with yourforeheads pressed together. Hajime had his arms wrapped aroundyou lovingly and your legs were a tangled mess under the blankets.

All of a sudden, you began shifting and turning in the bed. You ripped away fromhis grasp which is what woke him up. Hajime sleepily opened his eyes and staredat you.

Immediate concern flooded his body. Were you having a nightmare?Concerned-Boyfriend Mode Activated.

He started shaking your shoulders softly and stared down at your twitching body. Then, you shot up and gasped; your eyes opened quickly and stared forward, expressionless.

“The Amazon people printed the wrong face on my blanket, that’s not my face!”

He watched you, confused. “What blanket?”

You finally came to your senses and a bright pink blush formed over your cheeks. “Oh, I said that out loud, huh?” He couldn’t hold his giggles back as you roll your eyes and Hajime pulls you back down to cuddle once more.

Nagito Komaeda

Nagito is a very loving boyfriend and one of his favoritethings to do was sleep beside you. He also loved just watching you as you sleptbecause you looked so peaceful and serene.

Normally, you aren’t the kind of person to move a lot in your sleep – it rarelyever happened. And generally speaking you didn’t sleep talk, or you were nevertold.

But honestly, if you did, Nagito probably wouldn’t tell you - he’d just laugh quietly and use it against you, teasingly, in the future.

He couldn’t sleep so he took comfort in watching you instead. He was flipping throughchannels when a particular episode caught his eye; he knew it was your favoriteshow.

Your head was resting in Nagito’s lap and he was running his long, slenderfingers through your hair. He slowly stroked the side of your face and placedbutterfly kisses here and there.

Gently shaking you awake, he was trying to get your attention - knowing you wouldn’t want to miss this. You’d get upset if he watched it without you!

You mumblesomething he cannot quite make out and he leans forward to place his ear byyour soft lips.

Still shaking you, he isn’t getting much of a response. Not until you leapforward and your heads collide, Nagito retracting himself in shock. “Sorry, Ipushed you into Hajime’s sprinkler system!”

He’s rubbing his head where you had accidentally hit him with a faint smile. The pain wasn’t thereat first but then a massive headache caused you to fall backwards on the bed,groaning in agony. You placed your hand on your forehead and didn’t even seemto realize you had said anything.

“Hajime? He doesn’t have a sprinkler system, (Y/N).”

You draw your brows together. “What are you talking about?”

He explains what you had said; you didn’t even hear yourself. You’d justbeen blabbering nonsense in your sleep the whole time, apparently.

Now Nagito was chuckling, curious as to why you pushed him in the sprinklers.

All you could do was fall back asleep, embarrassed and knowing he’d never let you hear the end of this one.

Gundham Tanaka

You loved sleeping beside him – it was always so loving andcomforting; you felt at home in his arms. Gundham sleeps with his limbs entangled in yours, embracing youclosely.

Every night, he tells you that he’ll see you in your dreams; it’s supposed tobe sentimental. Typically, you don’t have nightmares when you’re with him however you do have some pretty odd dreams.

But you had been tossing and turning so much beside him on this specific night. You kicked him awakeand he sits up, slightly agitated at first.

Realizing that it was an accident and you were still sound asleep, he props himself up and just watched you, wondering what you could possibly be dreaming of.

He always wondered what went on inside that head of yours.

Gundham was concerned because he didn’t want any demons troubling you while youslept; all he wanted was for you to get a good night’s rest.

He shakes your shoulders with no response, wanting to make sure that everything was okay.

Mumbling something he can’t quitedecipher, he puts his ear beside your lips and listens.

Shaking your shoulders, much rougher this time, you jolt awake.

Jumping forward as you woke up, your eyes don’t have time to adjust to the darkness.Gundham stumbled back and lets out a cry.“Father, fetch me my overlord’s cape!”

He stares at you silently. “Did you just call me Father?”

Slightly perplexed, it takes you a moment to come to your senses. Once you finally do, you become flustered. “Oh, no. I must sound really stupid.”

Gundham gently pulls you closer and examines your face. “Was I the overlord you had been dreaming of?”

You’re blushing, a bit confused and dazed still; but you can sense a tinge of cheerfulness in his voice. There goes his superiority complex again.

Gundham’s grip tightens around your hand and a smile spreads across his lips. “You have no idea how joyous that makes me, (Y/N)! If I am an overlord, that must mean you’re my second in command…”

And here comes one of his rants about ruling the world together. You were too tired to process his strange words at this time of night, so you simply agree with a smile and he kisses your forehead, insisting that rulers need a good night’s sleep before tucking you in bed once more.

Kazuichi Souda

You two loved taking naps together. Whenever you were havinga rough day, that was your solution.

You’d been nuzzled into Kazuichi’s chest and he wrapped a strong arm aroundyou. He was half-asleep himself, still somewhat dozing off. Today was especially long for both of you, so your remedy seemed like the best possible solution.

Kazuichi was in the limbo where you aren’t completely asleep but aren’t awakeeither, just conscious enough to somewhat understand your surroundings. He wassnoring lightly, whilst you were in a deep sleep.

Who knows what you were dreaming about? Your dreams were always strange and uncalled for.

You jolt awake and shout, “Just follow the jellybeans!”

Kazuichi stumbles awake as well, now fully-aware of what was happening. He letsout an intense scream and nearly falls out of bed, hitting his neck on theheadboard as he did so.

His natural reflexes were really working against him this time.

He’s desperately scrambling to readjust himself, his heart-rate slowly declining again whilst breathing heavily. You knew your boyfriend was easily spooked, but you didn’t think it was that bad.

“What the fuck, (Y/N)?!” He asks, clutching his chest with one palm. You feel bad for scaring him like that, but it couldn’t be helped.

You frantically apologize, a bit of a giggle escaping from your lips. Seeing him become so flustered was actually pretty adorable.

“Also… uh, jellybeans?” Kazuichi is scratching the back of his head and cocking a brow. Your face turns red and that smile gets wiped off your face as soon as he questions you.

“I-I can explain!” You say.

Now he’s the one laughing at you, “Please do.”

Trying to retrace your dream and put the missing pieces together, you impishly smile at him. His smug grin reappears and you can already tell he’s going to tease you for the nonsense you spill while sleeping.

“You know what,” he says slowly, “let’s never talk about this again. Deal?”

He pokes out his pinky-finger and you nod, accepting his deal and letting the embarrassment melt away.

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu

You fell asleep beside him and he doesn’t want to disturbyou so he lets you stay there, peacefully just like that. He was a bit of arestless sleeper anyway.

He was trying to do something but he can’t now: it’s like when an animal falls asleep on you and you don’t want to move and disturb them. That’s how Fuyuhiko felt right now.

Fuyuhiko stays up, mindlessly scrolling through his phone or minding his ownbusiness.

He loved when you passed out on his chest like this, secretly. Although, he’d never admit it - you are his weak spot and the only person who can bring out the softer side of him.

Fuyuhiko finds a strange sense of comfort in listening to your steady breathing.

He’s placing kisses on top of your head and admiring your beauty from above, stroking your hair and faintly grinning.

You started tossing and turning, and Fuyuhiko was finding it harder to payattention to anything but you, sound asleep on top of him.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” His voice is raised and you suddenly mumble something. Hehesitates and then gently shoves your shoulder, enough to wake you up.

As tough as he acts, he hates when you have nightmares. He sits up, knowing it will wake you up, causing you to tumble down and off of him which immediately stuns you back to reality.

Almost instinctively, you blurt out, “Just put it in the washing machine, all your wishes will come true…”

Fuyuhiko is staring at you, completely taken aback. “What the Hell did you say?” He’s shaking his head, slightly judging you in his mind.

He can’t help but to crack a smug smile. Your eyes widen and all you can do is hide your face in the covers.

Fuyuhiko pulls them down, his face now inches from yours. “You know, you’re lucky that you’re cute. Otherwise, I might make fun of you.”

He pecks your forehead and returns to scrolling through his phone. Your half-asleep mind is still trying to figure out what happened, but you feel your face heat up as you blush.

You go back to curling up beside your boyfriend, although now hyper-aware of the nonsense you say when you’re sleeping.

Nekomaru Nidai

Nekomaru is like a big teddy bear, he loves cuddling andgenerally falls asleep before you do. Once his head hits the pillow, it’s allover.

He was curled up with you, enthralled in whatever he’d been up to. Your head was resting in his lap and he was running his fingers through your hair, as you quietly snored beneath him.

His arms were wrapped around your shoulders, holding you close. You knew youwouldn’t be able to break free from his grip. All he could do was stare down at you lovingly and listen to the cute little sounds you made while sleeping.

You began tossing and turning beneath Nekomaru, causing him to raise abrow and stare down at your sleeping body silently. His first instinct was that you were likely havinga nightmare in which he wanted to console you. He gently began to shake you, trying to stir you awake.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Even his booming voice couldn’t seem to bring you back.

Running his hands over your shoulders, nothing seemed to do the trick. He was growing increasingly frustrated and desperate.

Suddenly, you shift and lean forward. In a half-sleepy daze, you shouted something peculiar. “Where have you hidden the cheese-wheel?!”

He stared at you blankly, and you turns to meet his perplexed expression; he looked completely dazed. You’ve never seen him look so uncertain or confused before.

“Oh, hello hun! Did I say that out loud?” He scratched the back of his headwith a light pink blush on his cheeks, not entirely sure how to answer.

“What were you dreaming of?” He asks with a bit of a shaky voice. You giggle and shyly snuggle back into his large chest, insisting that he shouldn’t worry about it.

He shrugs, still pondering your dream. Nekomaru is stubborn so he’ll bug you about it for a long time to come.

Teruteru Hanamura

He’s had a really long day. His restaurant was particularlybusy this evening and he couldn’t seem to catch a break.

Normally, you stay up later than he does but tonight,Teruteru was completely wiped out.

He drags his feet underneath him. Rushing towards your side comfortingly, he snuggles into bed beside you and feels his eyes grow heavier; still, something kept bugging him awake and he can’t place a finger on why.

You have talked in your sleep before, even had full-on conversations withhim, but this night was stranger than normal.

The television plays quiet background hums as you begin to mumble something, and Teruteru’s ears perk up. He glances over his shoulder, realizing that you were talking in your sleep again.

“Kiss the cook! This seat’s taken.”

His eyebrows immediately raise. Well, that was different!

He slides closer towards to you and placed a gentle touch on your shoulder. You blink awake, a bitaggravated at first before realizing that it was only your boyfriend.

Is his nose bleeding?

Your eyes widen, not expecting to see him so close to your face, and jump backwards. Teruteru asks you to repeat that, and you shake your head. “Huh?”

His mind was racing, curious as to what that could’ve meant. He leans closer, “You did say kiss the cook~”

Typical of your boyfriend. You sigh, admittedly realizing that you sleep-talk sometimes, and then peck his lips so he can go to sleep peacefully.

You turn and pull the covers back over your head, smiling to yourself. Teruteru was still trying to figure out the second part, though, but that’s not something he wants to worry about now,

Byakuya Twogami (Imposter)

This boy is a very avid cuddle-partner, and he absolutely adores when he’sable to just pull you close and embrace you.

It happened one night when you both stayed up a lot later than you probablyshould have.

You are both well-aware of your sleep-talking problem but it’s something that just… happens. You’ve never been able to figure out why.

Luckily, he doesn’t mind too much. Although, he sometimes has some snarky comments about what was said but you don’t let it bother you too much.

His eyes were just beginning to flutter close when he hears you beginning to mumble something.

For the most part, your dreams were pretty innocent. But in a rather suggestive voice, you spit out, “Sooo~ are any of your seedlings early bloomers?”

He turns and looks at you, but all he has to do is scan your face to realize that you were sound asleep. His face turns bright red and he swears he saw a smirk on your lips.

Stammering and puzzled, he wakes you up by pulling the covers off of you. Your eyes shoot open and you repeat the strange sentence all over again.

Being as prideful as he is, he shook his head. “(Y/N)… what was that?” He squints at you in the darkness.

“Did I do it again?” You ask, referring to the sleep-talking. He nods slowly and you bury your face in your hands, apologizing promptly.

He starts drilling you about what you had on your mind but you couldn’t seem to recall. He’ll just have to live with the bruised pride and confusion.

To this day, he swears that you had to have been dreaming up something pretty sensual but that’s not something you’re willing to admit.

- Mod Rantaro

#danganronpa #super dangan ronpa 2 #danganronpa imagines #anime #imagines #sdr2 #sdr2 imagines #Hajime Hinata #Nagito Komaeda #gundham tanaka #Kazuichi Souda #Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu #Imposter #teruteru hanamura #nekomaru nidai

255 notes · View notes

drrjsb · 5 years ago

Photo

Body and Soul: The Endgame Fix

Part 5: Lunch and Learn

Summary: It's still Monday, Oct. 30, 2023. Bruce drives Natasha through his adopted town of Bridgewater and on to his house. News travels fast. They have company waiting.

[Monday, Oct. 30, 2023] It was a pleasant ride to Bridgewater with no real traffic since it was only about 11:00 am on a Monday, and the highway route he took was mostly through the countryside. It didn’t hurt that it was Autumn and everything was tinged golden, crimson, and orange, especially the hard maples and oaks. It was good to be away from the muddy pit and construction at the Compound. It was even better to have Natasha finally coming home with him.

Bruce could have taken the second exit and arrived home by a quicker route, but he’d wanted to show her the historic part of the town that he’d adopted or, more actually, that chose to adopt him. There was a bit of a strip mall out by the highway, but “Old Bridgewater” (or just “Downtown” to the locals) was picturesque with a river cutting through the middle of town and several beautiful arched stone bridges and Victorian-style houses and other striking architecture.

At one time, it had been a mill town and produced woven fabrics, but those days were far in the past. Now it was a quaint, bedroom community headed toward being an outer, outer suburb with a little light industry and tech to go with some agriculture that had been given a boost by the Decimation. Nat was surprised at the number of people who recognized them and waved from the sidewalk at Bruce. He’d rolled his window down to return their casual waves. She smiled as she realized he genuinely enjoyed the interactions and wondered if any of them were “Hulkies” like Marsha had mentioned.

Bruce laughed when a couple of preschool-aged kids pointed eagerly at their vehicle while they waited on a red light to change. The small girl and boy both broke into bicep-flexing poses. He returned the flexed salutes with one of his own. “Hulk out!” he called to them, and they squealed with glee. “You can always tell the kids who’ve watched the Go Green Science videos because they get all excited like that. Sometimes I think it’s really the HX everyone is impressed with since it’s unusually large. To most of the local folks, seeing me or the vehicle isn’t such a big deal anymore unless they’ve just been snapped back, so there’s just kind of a wave hello to a neighbor. ‘Nice to see you.’ I like that about this place.” Nat thought he was being modest about some of the attention. She’d spotted a few people sneaking pictures, too. Were they Hulkies?

Just when they seemed to have reached the end of town, he’d taken a turn to the right and paralleled the river as it flowed around a bend. When they came around the curve and the trees no longer obstructed the view, Natasha’s mouth dropped open. “You bought a castle?!”

Bruce laughed, “No, it’s just a big crazy Victorian-style house with some round rooms and stonework. It has three and a half stories and a finished basement. The mill and warehouse are also Victorian era, like most of Main Street, on the outside, but I have cutting-edge lab and workshop space inside.”

“Your house has turrets, Bruce. It’s a castle.”

“Fine, I’m ‘The Beast’ in a castle now,” he joked, deepening his voice. “I guess that makes you Belle?”

“I’d be your Belle. Got a library?” Natasha teased back.“Do I have a library?! Have you been impersonated by a Skrull for five years?” He was completely happy to see her smile and joke with him again; it gave him faith they could at least try to make a go of it together this time. He hadn’t exactly rebuilt the house and grounds just for her, but he’d put a lot of his love for her into it with the vague hope that someday she’d see it. Now, he hoped she’d fall in love with it as he had.

The gravel crunched under the HX’s wheels as Bruce pulled up to the gate in the decorative, yet substantial steel fence surrounding the property. There was a camera, but no gatehouse, and he rolled the window down and pressed in a code on a panel then let it read his left thumbprint. Bruce scanned the driveway ahead that forked off to the house on the left and the old factory complex with the labs on the right. “That’s kind of weird. Usually, Sirius is front and center as soon as he hears the car on the gravel. Maybe Vella shut him inside by accident before she left?” he hypothesized. He didn’t believe it for a minute, but no need to go on high alert just yet. After the metal gate rolled back, Bruce drove cautiously down the drive and parked the vehicle in its usual spot in the driveway where the pavement circled behind the house, near the back porch. “Please do me a favor and sit tight for a minute, Nat. I want to see where the dog is.” Bruce opened up a panel above the rearview mirror and pointed to a toggle switch. “I want you to flip this when I get out. The vehicle is a bunker if it needs to be. With you just back . . .”

“Do you have a gun in here?” Natasha demanded, her voice all business.

“Promise me you won’t get out of the car unless it’s 100% necessary.”

“80%.”

“Deal. I have one of your old Glock 26s in that wooden box in the backseat. It’s loaded, 10 shots, but I don’t have any extra rounds. Also, I have neighbors within earshot, and I would prefer not to scare them shitless.”

“Got it. I promise I will sit tight until things go south.”

“Make that 80% south,” Bruce reminded her before he left Natasha in the HX. She was as good as her word and engaged the “bunker” mode, which involved a form of nanotech that reinforced the existing plating, extended it down to the ground, and covered the glass and tires. He hadn’t told her how to disengage the shielding, so he hoped she’d sit tight and let him deal with whoever was here. He was pretty sure he had an idea whom that might be since no sensors were tripped.

“Sirius! Here, boy!” Bruce called and then whistled. There wasn’t the usual happy bark and scrambling of toenails on wood and stone as the big black mix charged out the pet door or careened around the corner of the porch, so Bruce turned to the trees surrounding the backyard. “Barton, if you’re holding my dog hostage, don’t expect to be invited to lunch.”

“I’m not holding it hostage. I just want to talk to whoever you have with you and make sure you aren’t getting made a fool of,” called a familiar raspy voice from behind him. Clint dropped down from the roof on the far corner of the porch. Bruce was relieved to see he wasn’t wearing his “Ronin” gear though he did have his bow and quiver over some basic tac clothing.

“Where is my dog?” Bruce asked, sounding stern.

“It went in the door thing. Hasn’t come back out.”

“Why would that be?”

“It wasn’t exactly staying quiet.” Bruce scowled at him. “It may have gotten a little sleeping gas before he went to bed.”

“You gassed my dog.”

“It’ll be fine in about an hour.”

“I cannot believe you gassed my dog,” Bruce said in a low growl.

“It’s a big dog with a bigger bark, okay!?”

Bruce didn’t mean to be losing his temper, but now he was pissed off. “He’s an overgrown puppy for crying out loud, Clint, not a guard dog. Try a dog treat.” He unclenched the fingers of his right hand again and stepped back. It never helped to loom over smaller people unless you really wanted to fight them or make them piss their pants, he reminded himself. No, he really didn’t want to fight Clint. “Why the fuck couldn’t you just use a phone or wait on the front porch?”

“You could have called. Instead, I had to overhear this from Fury talking to Carol,” the archer accused.

Dammit, Danvers, update your security protocols (or quit having Clint do your dirty work if that’s what was going on), Bruce thought. “I’ve been a little too busy making sure Nat was okay. You gassed the dog, so now what do you have planned to do to Natasha, hmm? Because this IS Natasha. OUR Natasha!”

“How the hell do you know? You weren’t there on Vormir. You didn’t see her let go. That was Natasha,” Clint said through gritted teeth. They both stared at each other, filled with grief and anger and guilt. It wasn’t necessary, not now, not anymore, but it was hard to let go.

Part of Bruce wanted to step forward and backhand Barton into the next county for all the time he’d had with Natasha that he hadn’t and for failing to die when both Bruce and Hulk would have done it in a heartbeat, but Bruce reminded himself that it no longer made any sense to be jealous and petty about any of it. That wasn’t Nat who died. It was a horrible sacrifice that still had meaning, but it wasn’t one the real Natasha had been fated to make. He straightened back up from the defensive crouch he’d been slipping into and relaxed both hands. Bruce kept his voice low and calm. “Don’t remind me. We were both fooled, Clint. If you want to talk to her, put your weapons on the porch. All of them.” Clint didn’t seem convinced. “Dude, if you don’t believe me, call Maximov. All four of us there agreed this is our Nat. Now, I need to see how the pup is and get Natasha settled because she’s had one hell of a five years, too. Disarm or get the hell off my property. Now.”

Read more on WattPad, Fanfiction.net, or AO3

1 note · View note