#how dare they give me ume with food. What am i supposed to eat first huh? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

arrowflier · 4 years ago

Note

if you still taking prompts, I wish you could write something about... since Ian's always over-worrying about Mickey's safety, what if he gets a call saying something happened to his husband? maybe Ian's freaking out thinking Mickey could be locked again or hurt so he runs to get him? Thank you!!

Spoiler alert--nothing bad actually happens to anyone in this ficlet.

Ian is at Whole Foods when the call comes.

They usually go together, Mickey whining about rich privileged fucks and overpriced organic shit but coming anyway to, and he quotes, “make sure you don’t drop our whole paycheck on fuckin’ tomatoes this time.” But Mickey had begged off today, claiming he didn’t feel up to “dealing with those judgmental dicks at the checkout actin’ like cash is fuckin’ dirty”, and Ian hadn’t pushed.

Now he’s wishing he had.

“You need to come now,” Sandy is saying into his ear, voice tinny and thin through the cheap speakers of his second-hand phone.

“Where are you?” Ian asks her numbly. He kneels down on autopilot, picking up the now-bruised oranges he had been holding when she greeted him with the words, “hey, it’s Mickey.” The tile floor is as unforgiving on his knees as it was on the fruit. He turns one of the oranges over in his hand. He had been planning to make Mickey fresh orange juice with that later.

“That little corner store by your apartment, you know it?” Sandy is asking him.

Of course he knows it. That’s were they run to in the middle of the night when they run out of lube, or beer. Where Mickey bought him flowers once and tried to pass it off as an error by the cashier, until Ian found the receipt in the bottom of the bag. Where they take Franny to pick out candy every other Friday when they pick her up from school.

“Yeah,” is all he says. “I know it.”

Then he’s hanging up, and running out of the store, leaving an overturned basket and the handful of oranges on the floor in his wake.

His heart is pounding as he runs toward home. Not toward the apartment—toward Mickey.

His heart is pounding and his legs are churning and his feet are slapping the pavement with every step, chest aching to force air into his lungs. But his brain is moving faster.

He doesn’t know what happened. He should have kept Sandy on the line longer, gotten more of the story, but it only would have slowed him down. But he doesn’t know if Mickey is hurt, or in trouble, or in danger of being carted off to prison again for daring to live his life on parole.

And Ian’s mind has never exactly been his greatest ally to begin with, so it’s no surprise that the scenarios it comes up with as he runs aren’t exactly comforting.

As he rounds a corner, narrowly missing an old woman and her shopping bags, he pictures Mickey injured, collapsed on the floor of the shop, like back at the Kash and Grab when they were just kids. He won’t let anyone near him like that, no one but Ian, and he’s bleeding out onto white tile waiting for his husband to save him.

Crossing the street between cars and ignoring the honks, he pictures Mickey backed into a corner by his father’s cronies, refusing to look for an escape as Sandy frantically tries to call for help. He still doesn’t know how to back down, would never back down from men like that, would never let them take what they have and try to turn it ugly. He’d held a gun to his own father’s face, more than once, but thanks to Ian he didn’t even have one now.

Approaching the shop, finally, only to see the familiar red and blue flash of police cars, he pictures Mickey cuffed to the counter inside, glaring at the officers and spouting curses to the questions they ask. Knowing that despite living clean for over a year, they could take him in any time they wanted, with no more evidence than his last name and his rap sheet.

Ian dashes across the last street, desperate now, only to come to an abrupt halt as soon as he’s close enough to take in the scene.

Because there’s Mickey, all right. Not hurt, not cornered, not arrested.

But stuck.

Ian’s mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, and he bends over, hands on knees, to catch his breath and his heart. Mickey is whole, and healthy, and right in front of him. Well, in front of him and up a little, pacing along the edge of the single-story shop roof.

“Hey!” Sandy calls out from the entrance of the store. Ian keeps his eyes on Mickey, who starts at the sound and looks down, gaze quickly finding Ian. He grimaces when he sees him, and starts pacing faster.

“Uh, hey Sandy,” Ian manages, finally looking to her just long enough to take in her shit-eating grin before he’s back to watching his husband. “What exactly is happening here?” The question might come out a little unhinged sounding, but sue him, he’s allowed.

Sandy comes up next to him, shielding her eyes from the sun with one hand as she joins him in observing the roof. “Apparently,” she tells him, voice raised enough that Mickey can probably hear, “Mickey here got robbed.”

Mickey can definitely hear, if the finger he throws up toward them is any indication.

“Robbed,” Ian repeats faintly. “On the roof?”

Sandy snorts. “No, you moron, in the store. Some kid swiped his bag on his way out, then went up the maintenance ladder. Mickey followed, but,” she shrugs. “Little fucker started jumping rooftops, and Mickey couldn’t keep up.”

“Uh huh,” Ian says, nodding once. “Okay. So why hasn’t he come back down?”

“Ladder broke,” Sandy offers, and Ian closes his eyes.

“The ladder,” he parrots. “Broke.”

“Yup,” she says, popping the P.

“And your first thought,” Ian continues, “was to call me, and tell me that Mickey was in trouble, giving me a heart attack in the middle of the fucking grocery store, instead of finding another one?” His voice rises until he’s nearly yelling, and when he opens his eyes, Sandy is wincing.

“Um,” she answers. “Sorry?”

Ian just sighs, deflating immediately.

“Mick,” he calls up to his husband.

The response he gets back isn’t even addressed to him.

“The fuck did you call him for?” Mickey shouts down to Sandy instead, finally stopping his incessant pacing. “It was supposed to be a fuckin’ surprise!”

“Well, I am surprised!” Ian yells back. “Thought you didn’t like heights?” That just earns him a middle finger, as expected.

“Why aren’t the cops helping?” Ian asks Sandy at a normal volume, but Mickey catches it and responds before she can.

“Cops ain’t here for me,” he grunts, rubbing at his nose and looking to the side. “Shopkeep called ‘em about the burglary, they got the kid ‘round the other side of the building.”

“What did he steal, anyway?” Ian questions, but Mickey goes silent.

Sandy tells him anyway. “He had a big order come in,” she whispers to Ian. “Told me all about it, had me come help pick it up. Something about some fancy booze and chocolate you like?”

Oh. Ian’s heart, now recovered from its scare, warms.

“Come on, Mickey, come down,” Ian cajoles. He wants to hold his husband.

“Oh, brilliant fuckin’ idea man!” Mickey rants. “Why didn’t I think of that?” He pretends to think for a second, then adds with an overdone gesture, “Oh yeah! Cause I don’t wanna break my fuckin’ neck!”

“It’s one story, Mickey,” Ian points out. “I could probably reach the gutters if I jumped.”

“Yeah, well, not all of us are giant gangly fuckers like you!” his husband shouts back.

Ian rolls his eyes.

“I meant,” he says slowly, “that if you hang down off the edge, I can reach you, dumbass.”

Mickey is silent at that, then promptly sits and scoots so his feet are hanging off the roof.

All the warning Ian gets is “don’t drop me, fuckhead,” before Mickey is sliding down right into his arms, sending them both stumbling backwards until Ian regains his footing.

They stay like that, pressed together from knees to chest, Ian’s arms around Mickey’s waist and Mickey’s looped around his neck, until Sandy coughs from behind them.

“Adorable,” she drawls, and they both flip her off this time. Ian hold Mickey tighter instead, and kisses his hair.

“So,” he whispers into Mickey’s ear, “Sandy scared the shit out of me about this.”

Mickey just hums into his neck.

“I think you might need to make it up to me,” Ian adds. “What’s this I hear about a surprise?”

Mickey pulls back just enough to scowl at him. “Surprise got pinched,” he mutters. “Evidence now or something, greedy pig bastards.”

Ian grins. “I’m sure you can think of something else,” he muses, shifting to that they’re side by side, and starting off in the direction of their apartment. He waves over his shoulder at Sandy, a clear dismissal. “You’ve never lacked for ideas before.”

Mickey sighs, but leans into him as they walk.

“You’re gonna make me buy you fruit again, aren’t you?” he asks, resigned, and Ian thinks of the oranges he had left at the store, and the tomatoes that Mickey liked to tease him about.

“Maybe,” he answers, and smiles all the way home.

#this was a fun one #but for once I had no clue how to end it #daily speedwrite #fanfic #gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #sandy milkovich #dramatic but silly

196 notes · View notes

marvelouspeterparker · 5 years ago

Text

teacher!tom

pairing: teacher!tom x teacher!reader

summary: your colleague is insufferable, really. the way he’s so cocky, so lenient with his students, so nonchalant, so attractive with no effort whatsoever––you hate him, really.

warnings: smut near the end + this is really long fyi

notes: this literally came out of nowhere, i thought about it before i fell asleep last night and luckily i remembered it today. i was kinda hesitant to write it out and post it but here we are!

leave feedback :)

so you and tom get your jobs as high school teachers at the same time

you first meet during the training sessions during the summer before the semester started

and you immediately can’t stand him

he just––

he’s too much

with his charming accent

and his smile

and his perfect hair

how does someone look good with both gelled hair and messy hair?

when you had to spend too much time making sure you looked good every morning

it was unfair

some days he shows up in fancy clothes

a button down and pants

maybe even a trench coat

some days a leather jacket and oh how you hate that leather jacket and hoodie combo

it’s not professional in the slightest yet he still manages to pull it off

he even shows up to school in sweats

how? you have no idea

he manages to charm literally everyone

from the students (including yours, thank you very much), the lunch ladies, even the principal for christ’s sake

all the girls love him, they swoon over him every day

you see how your girls brighten up whenever he strolls into your class to bother you

he lets his classes watch movies way too often

he hasn’t even done some of the reading for his assignments he’s handed out

he constantly shows up to your classroom for the sole purpose of teasing you

‘looking as beautiful as ever, y/n’

you turn to look at him, a deadpan expression on your face, ‘some of us have actual work to do thomas, so if you would please leave––’

he interrupts you with a gasp, bringing his hand to his chest and he gapes at you, ‘how rude’ but you can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s not actually offended

you constantly have to physically shove him out of the class

and every time he just laughs, obviously enjoying himself, only pissing you off even more

he takes every opportunity he can to bother you

like when he interrupts your class, a cheeky smile on his face as he opens the door

‘sorry to bother you, ms. y/l/n’

you both know he absolutely is not

he turns to the students and waves like he’s a goddamn celebrity and they all swoon, and you roll your eyes

‘mr. holland,’ you see his eyes,, darken? at the sound of you saying his last name but you brush it off, ‘to what do i owe this displeasure?’

his usual smirk is plastered back on his face, ‘well i just needed to borrow a marker, love.’

you try not to let the nickname have an effect on you, especially when you hear your students perk up at the name as well

‘you know you could have just asked a student to come over here, right.’

he turns to your class playfully, ‘does she treat you lot like a bunch of servants?’

they laugh and you sigh, exasperated but somewhat amused, making him turn back to you

‘you don’t even use the white board in your class.’

he shrugs easily, ‘well today i am.’

and your students are loving the banter between you two

they all ship you and they’ve told you multiple times

tom’s students have done the same to him as well

you roll your eyes for what feels like the fifteenth time and nod your head to the tray under the board where all the markers are and he doesn’t move a muscle, he even dares to lean against the doorframe

‘well how am i supposed to know which one you don’t mind me taking?’

you glare at him and walk over to the board, picking up a random marker and throwing it his way

he catches it easily and slides out of the classroom and you can hear the grin in his voice as he walks off, ‘cheers, love.’

you just go back to teaching your class, ignoring some of the knowing stares your students are throwing your way

after class you go over to his class to see what was so important that he needed to get one of your markers

you walk right in because of course his door is wide open

...he wrote the date

that’s it.

he looks up from his phone to see you standing there and he straightens up, his eyes widening slightly as he sets his phone down

‘uh’ he scratches the back of his head, ‘i erased it all, obviously’

you narrow your eyes at him, obviously not buying it

‘i can assure you we took the most intensive notes you’ve ever seen’

you laugh and walk out of the class, ‘yeah and i’m the pope.’

he smiles, shaking his head slightly as he watches you walk away

sometimes when you’re walking in the hallway, he somehow finds you, easily sliding up next to you

‘you following me?’

‘tom you came up to me.’

‘nonsense, really.’

sometimes during lunch, he’ll stop by your classroom if you’re not in the cafeteria

and you’re too bothered and hungry to kick him out

so you both just eat and “enjoy” each other’s company

he’ll make small talk with you and it’s actually not that bad

you share an office with him and the other teachers in your department

your desks are right next to each other, because apparently whoever’s in charge of your life just isn’t on your side

he tends to look over at whatever you’re doing

‘geez darling, you really are a harsh grader...’

you look up at him, and back to the sheet, offended

‘no i am not! i’m checking the answer sheet and this is simply not correct––’

you plan on defending yourself further but then you see him trying to hold in his laughter and realize he’s just teasing you

you look back to your paper, hiding your smile, ‘ha ha. very funny tom.’

sometimes he’ll even roll his chair over and lean on your desk

you look over at him hesitantly, ‘do you need something?’

he just smiles lazily, ‘oh don’t mind me, just enjoying the view.’

you brush him off and try to ignore the fluttering feeling you get in your stomach

you’re with your other colleagues one day on lunch break,

luckily tom hasn’t decided to torture you that day

and they ask

‘so you and holland gone on a date yet?’

and you choke on your food

and the other one goes ‘or have you at least fucked––’

and you properly choke on your drink this time

when you finally calm down, they don’t even try to hide their smiles

‘what are you talking about?’

‘oh come on’

‘you can’t be serious’

when you look at them like they’re crazy their smiles drop

‘oh so you’re either stupid or oblivious’

‘hey!’

‘i mean come on, the way he looks at you––’

‘his teasing’

‘his comments’

‘we don’t like each other, he’s insufferable...’ you say but it really sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself

‘you know we don’t even have any policies on that stuff, sooo...you could if you wanted to.’

when you don’t reply, they go on,

‘so you don’t think he’s attractive at least?’

you roll your eyes, ‘don’t be stupid, i’ve seen him before, and he knows he’s attractive which is the worst part––’

and you get interrupted by a very annoyingly familiar british voice

‘who’s attractive, darling?’ he slides in and takes a seat next to you and your friends can’t help but smile knowingly at each other

you send them warning glares and they ignore you

he sends them a charming smile, ‘hello ladies’

their soft, completely charmed responses make you gag

and tom can’t help but shove your arm playfully, ‘play nice, darling.’

‘can i help you with anything?’

‘just wanted to say hello to my favorite colleague,’ he turns to your friends, ‘and her lovely friends, of course.’

you roll your eyes, ‘isn’t harrison your favorite?’ you ask, bringing up the pe teacher he’s always with

he was a nice guy really, you’d talked with him a few times, he was always making jokes

he brings a finger up to his lips, ‘shh’ he winks, ‘don’t tell him.’

eventually he leaves you alone with a promise to stop by your class again before the day’s over

you respond with a ‘there’s really no need!’

and he turns back to face you as walks out, ‘sorry! can’t hear you anymore!’

you look back at your friends and they’re giving you a ‘really, bitch.’ look and you can’t help but shrink in your seat a little bit, lost in thought

‘does he really like me?’

‘do i really like him?’

you try to push it aside and focus on your work for the time being after that––you are at work, after all

when parent teacher conferences come around tom obviously finds a way to sneak into your classroom before they start

you hate to say it but your breath hitches and your gaze lingers a little too long on the way his arms strain in his tight shirt, the part of his collarbone you can see peeking past his slightly unbuttoned top, the shiny watch on his wrist, his hands––

‘well you somehow managed to look even more beautiful than you always do, love. can’t say i’m surprised.’

you look down at the dress and heels you’d changed into after class ended, suddenly feeling undressed under his gaze

‘um thank you. you look good too.’

he seems taken aback for a second, and is he blushing?

‘thanks, love.’

he puts his hands in his pockets, a casual smile on his face, ‘so are you ready for the next five hours of forced social interaction?’

‘no but i have to be,’ you sighed. ‘i’m sure you’re fine though, you’re a people person.’

‘what can i say, people love me.’

‘alright,’ you say getting up, you don’t know what comes over you but you place your hands on his chest gently, ‘we have like’ you glance at the clock ‘two minutes so,’ you look up at him and the look in his eyes knocks you breathless

‘off you go...’ you trail of softly

his hands come up to hold you wrists gently, his thumbs caressing the skin, a soft look in his eyes,

‘if you say so, darling.’

it feels like time stopped but a knock on your door reminds you where you are and what you have to do

your hands hesitantly slide down his chest and back to your side and he sighs at the feeling, unwillingly letting you go

‘looks like my first parent is here.’

he backs away slowly, blinking out of the daze you both seemed to be in, ‘right, i––good luck, love.’

you reply quietly, ‘same to you.’

and so you introduce yourself to the first parent and go about your night

when you have a small ten minute window, you go to the bathroom and when you come back you find a small cup of coffee on your desk, just the way you like

there’s a sticky note next to it and you can’t help but smile when you read it

‘thought you might need this. knock em dead, darling. you’ve got this. :)’

when you’ve finally said goodbye to your last pair of parents, many long hours later, you prop your door open and take a seat again

it’s not long before you hear a knock at the door, you turn to see tom strolling in, two bottles of water in his hand

yes one hand, you tried very hard not to think about it too much, especially not about the way his fingers wrapped around the––

‘here you go, love.’ he hands you a bottle and you thank him as he sits down in the seat across from you where the parents were sitting all night

‘so how was that for you? first parent teacher conference done.’ he sips his water and you try not to focus on the way his throat bobs when he swallows the sips

‘i think it went well, they were all really nice, honestly. how was it for you?’

‘great, i mean it was honestly kind of fun, but now i’m exhausted’

you nodded in agreement, ‘oh! thank you for the coffee by the way, i––i really appreciated it.’ you give him a small smile

he returns one back to you, ‘of course, love.’

you can’t help but ask, ‘so do you just do this for everyone?’

he furrows his brows in confusion and you continue, totally disregarding the fact that he looks really cute when he’s confused

‘the coffee, the water, the nicknames...’ you trail off

he lets out a small chuckle, ‘i will admit i am a charmer––’ he looks into your eyes, ‘but i promise it’s just you. you’re...’ he trails off for a bit, ‘different.’

he can see you’re unsure about how to take that, ‘in a good way,’ he clarifies, ‘a really good way.’ he smiles

you lick your lips nervously, ‘well that’s...good. i––yeah that’s nice.’

you mentally curse at yourself, really? nice? my god––

luckily he lets it slide and soon enough the both of you get dressed and he’s walking you outside to your car

you both say goodnight and once you’ve driven off, tom gets in his car and heads home too

when the winter formal comes along, everyone is very excited, people are asking each other out, and all that fun stuff

being a teacher, you get to hear all the gossip in your class and in the halls and it’s honestly quite entertaining

‘now you didn’t hear this from me,’ you pause for dramatic effect while tom tries his best but fails to hide his endeared smile. he leans in over his lunch, ‘but apparently sarah lewis, the blonde girl in my class?’ you pause to make sure tom knows who you’re talking about

when he nods you go on

‘thought that david––’

‘is that the bloke on the football team?’

‘yes, him. she thought he was going to ask her to the formal, right?’

‘yeah i mean i’ve seen them flirting in the hallways, only makes sense.’

you shake your head in sympathy for the poor girl and his mouth drops, ‘no––’

‘yes... he asked her best friend instead.’

tom sits back in his seat, ‘that fucker––’

‘tom!’ you laugh, though you really shouldn’t, these were students for christ’s sake.

‘what? come on, he deserves it, the player.’

you nod, ‘yeah i guess he does.’

you both laugh and when it dies down, he speaks up again,

‘speaking of the formal,’ you perk up and try your best to seem nonchalant as you look up at him.

he’s looking down at his food nervously, as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world.

he clears his throat and looks up at you, his eyes vulnerable, ‘will you be uh, chaperoning?’

you swallow, weirdly nervous all of a sudden, ‘yeah,’ you tilt your head slightly and tom almost combusts at how cute you look, ‘will you?’

he snaps out of his reverie, ‘yeah! yeah i will.’ god he felt like he was back in high school again, this was ridiculous––

‘i guess i’ll see you there, then.’ you smile shyly.

he smiles back ‘yeah i guess i’ll see you too.’

tom shows up early to the dance, because he’s a nerd––he’d even put on his nice shoes, his extra shiny watch and gelled his hair for an extra ten minutes to make sure he looked good

he was hoping to catch you before everyone started piling in, but unfortunately you were nowhere to be found

nonetheless he helped with last minute decorations and such and stood in the corner when the dance started, to make sure nobody died or anything on the dance floor

he was sipping his punch, totally not judging the students dance moves when he noticed you walk into the gym, a look of awe on your face as you looked at all the decorations and lights

and you––

you looked like a princess

your dress was long and flowy and there was a slit (a perfectly appropriate one) on the side and when tom noticed that he just about choked on his drink

you made your way around the room, saying hi to the other chaperones and some of your students as well

a lot of people wanted to talk to you, tom found out rather impatiently

but soon enough, you made your way towards him, near the punch

‘funny seeing you here, holland.’

he smiles, ‘likewise, love.’

you both go off near the side and start small talking

soon enough you’re making jokes, enjoying your time

‘i have to say i really am impressed with how this turned out, it looks great,’ you say, your eyes exploring the room

he hums, ‘not as good as the ones in london though.’

you turn to him, amused and intrigued, ‘oh yeah, why’s that?’

he leans in to whisper in your ear over the music, ‘cause we’re allowed to drink booze at our dances.’

you snort and roll your eyes

and he can’t help but feel his heart flutter in his chest at the way you laugh at him

he wanted you to be his so badly

after a few moments of scanning the crowd and doing your job, tom speaks up again

he holds his hand out and you look at it and back to him ‘may i have this dance?’

you can’t help the smile that makes it’s way to your lips, ‘aren’t we supposed to be working?’

‘we can watch and dance at the same time’ he responds, even though he knows once he has you in his arms he won’t be able to focus on anything else but you

you say fuck it and grab his hand

he grins and leads you to a spot on the dance floor after discarding your cups

his hands gingerly find their way to your waist and it’s cliché, truly

but you feel all tingly when he touches you and honestly it seems like he does too

you slide your hands up to his shoulders and he takes a deep breath

you start swaying slightly to the song

and now that you listen to it, it sounds a bit too sensual for a high school, dance. but anyway––

tom’s eyes are entranced by the way you’re glowing in the light and the way you’re looking up at him

your lips looks so soft and inviting

your eyes are shining

and that dress

meanwhile, he looks dashing as ever

his jawline, his hair looks so perfect––you really wanna pull on it and mess it up...

you slowly inch your way towards each other and soon enough, you’re so close that if you just tilted your head and pushed forward, you’d be kissing

realizing where you are, you both snap out of it slowly

and as a slow song comes on, you lean your head on his chest and he holds you close

you can hear and feel his heartbeat and it makes you smile

you sway together and you can tell there are some students and even staff members who are staring at you two

when the song is over you look up at each other and the tension is unbearable, and oh so thick

‘do you wanna––’

‘let’s––’

you both laugh, still holding each other

‘let’s go, darling’ he grabs your hand and leads you to grab your coats and your purse and then out to his car

before he opens the door he catches a glimpse of the way you’re looking at him with your bottom lip caught between your teeth, your eyes looking him up and he just loses it

he practically lunges towards you and you yelp when he attaches his lips to yours, immediately melting in his touch

one of his hands is cradling your cheek, while the other reclaims it’s spot on your waist, gripping you softly but firmly

without detaching his lips from yours, he turns you around and presses you against the door to his car and you gasp slightly into the kiss, making him smirk

you raise your leg up slowly, trailing your heel up the back of his leg and he groans as he presses himself into you

you hear a group of teenagers shouting and laughing as they step out for a breath of fresh air and the two of you pull away from each other reluctantly, panting as you stare at each other as if you want to devour the other

and honestly––you do

he opens the door for you and tries to calm himself down when he shuts the door for you before walking over to his side and getting settled in his seat

he looks over at you and notices the way your clenching your thighs together, how your breaths are still heavy and he bites his lip, unable to look away from you

you break the silence

‘are we really about to fuck in your car?’

‘of course not,’ he looks offended, ‘for our first time together? absolutely not, i have more manners than that love.’ he pauses, ‘unless you want that?’

you can’t help but laugh, ‘take me home, tom’

your eyes widen slightly, realizing how domestic that sounded and you go to take it back but he interrupts you, placing his hand on your thigh

‘let’s go home’ a smile on his face as he pulls out of the parking lot

the whole drive to his place, his hand is gripping your thigh teasingly and you’re surprised you didn’t leave a wet spot on his seat when you got up

he opens the door for you and takes you up to his apartment, using all his self control not to take you right there in the elevator

when you get to his door, it takes him way too much effort to put the key through the hole

though he’s not drunk, it feels like he is when he’s around you

you’re absolutely intoxicating

your hands are rubbing all over his body as you hold him from behind, your face nuzzling into his back and he can barely focus

‘christ––’

as soon as you step inside his apartment, he locks the door and his lips are back on yours as you take your shoes off and hastily throw your jackets on the couch as you walk past the living room

once you get into his bedroom, he turns the bedside lamp on the lowest since he doesn’t want you to trip and fall over anything

you both quickly undress and tom stops you before you can take off your undergarments

‘let me,’ a cheeky look in his eyes as he does so

he turns you around and grazes his hands up and down your sides before bringing them behind you and unhooking your bra

he slides it down your arms teasingly slow and the silence in the room is deafening as you hear it drop to the floor

he steps closer to you, pressing his bare chest against your back and you hear him take in a breath as looks at your breasts

he brings his hands to your waist in a silent question

and you lean back in response

he takes the invitation and glides his hands up to grasp your breasts and your back arches, a soft sigh escaping your lips and he basks in the sound, wanting to hear it again

‘so pretty, darling’ he plays with your nipples and you whine, wanting to feel him already

‘tom––’

‘alright,’ you hear the smile in his voice before he turns you around

then he bends down all while keeping eye contact with you, kissing your skin as he makes his way down

then, this cheeky bastard, places his hands on your thighs, while he looks up at you with those innocent eyes and grasps the waistband of your panties with. his. teeth.

he drags them down oh so slowly down your legs and once they reach the bottom you kick them aside

he stands back up and you waste no time, smirking at him before you bend down, ‘my turn’

you get on your knees and drag your fingertips down his abs while you do so, relishing in the shivers he tries to contain

you hook your fingers into his briefs and pull them down, biting your lip at the way his cock is standing up proudly

you lick your lips as he steps out of his underwear, ‘is that all for me?’

he bites his lip, bringing a hand down to hold your cheek and you turn your head to kiss his palm

and how you managed to make that hot? he has no idea

‘of course it is, darling. it’s all yours’ he grabs his cock and starts stroking it slowly, hissing at the feeling

you quickly take control and he moans out loud when you lick along his base and put the tip in your mouth

you swirl your tongue around him and he swears he sees stars

‘you’re––christ, you’re making me forget my manners, love. i’m supposed to take care of you first.’

you roll your eyes, taking him out of your mouth while you keep stroking him with one hand and play with his balls in the other

‘you wanna make me happy right tommy?’ you bat your eyelashes and he twitches in your hand at the sight and the nickname

‘y–yeah’

‘then let me do this please? wanna make you feel good’

he nods entranced and you continue, putting your mouth back on him

sucking and bobbing your head as his eyes flutter shut and his head falls back

he gets lost in the pleasure and honestly almost blows his load unwillingly but he pulls you away and leads you to the bed

you climb on and get settled in the middle, enjoying the look in his eyes as he climbs after you like a predator eyeing its prey

his eyes lock in on his target and you close your legs teasingly as you look up at him

he shakes his head slightly at your antics, ‘ah ah, open up, pretty girl. i wanna see you.’ he nudges your thighs open with his hands and the feeling of his fingertips pressing into your skin send tingles all through your body, making your pussy clench around nothing

he looks between your thighs and back at you, ‘can i?’

you nod before he can even finish his sentence and he’s too eager to please you to make a joke about it

he lies down between your legs and wraps his arms around your thighs as he holds you in place and dives in

his tongue is slow and teasing as he licks through your folds

he’s making eye contact because of course he is

and you can’t look away, and neither can he

you can tell he’s enjoying this and it makes it all the more enjoyable for you

he’s taking his time and savoring you, coaxing you to the edge

your hands grip his curls, ‘i’ve been wanting to mess these up all night’ you admit

and he growls into your heat, speeding up his movements

he shakes his head and lets you grind into his face as he focuses on your clit

and soon enough your back is arching, your eyes shutting closed and your body tenses around him, your thighs holding him close

he licks you up through your high and when your thighs loosen around him, he kisses your clit and sits up, rubbing your thighs soothingly

you sit up and kiss him slowly, passionately, letting your tongues taste each other as you feel each other up

‘come here,’ he mumbles between kisses while he moves around

he lies down on the bed and you go to straddle him when he stops you

‘just a little bit higher, love.’

your eyes widen, ‘you want me to sit on your face––’

‘been dreaming about it for a while now actually. please darling?’ he gives you those puppy dog eyes of his

and though you didn’t know if he meant metaphorically or literally, you decided to climb up, you’d figure it out later

you settle down on top of his mouth and he pulls you down, immediately getting to work as he watches you through hooded eyes

you’re still sensitive from your previous orgasm so you feel yourself get close quickly as he sucks on your clit

you mewl and he hums into your heat, loving the reactions your giving him

when he feels you about to tip over the edge he grabs your ass and helps you grind on his face as he flattens out his tongue

your thighs close around his head for the second time that night and his cock throbs at the sight of you and the feel of you pulsing on his tongue

he licks you clean and leaves soft kisses on your thighs as you come to your senses again

you get off of him and switch places

he licks his lips as he reaches over for a condom and puts it on

he watches you breath deeply, the light coating of sweat on your chest glistening under the soft light, your wet pussy

he strokes himself and lines up at your entrance, rubbing himself through your folds and teasing your clit

you can’t help but shiver and jolt at the feeling and he bites his lip, hiding his smile

‘you ready, darling?’ he asks, wanting to make sure you still want this

you nod, looking up at him and he slides in, bottoming out slowly

‘god you’re so wet for me––’

you can feel every inch as he enters you and your walls are so tight he’s sure he won’t last––just seeing you come already made him want to

he starts thrusting into you slowly, holding your thighs up as he moves his hips and the both of you let out a string of moans and curses

he hits the right spot inside of you and your eyes roll back as you whimper, your hands gripping his as they hold you open

‘always wanted to see how you roll your eyes while my cock’s inside you––’ he teases

you can’t even be bothered to reply with a witty comeback, he just feels too good

you wrap your arms and legs around him pushing him deeper inside you and he groans, his hands sliding down your body to rest on either side of you as he pounds you harder

‘god you feel so good angel’

your heart properly bursts at the new nickname, your limbs tightening around him as you turn and kiss his neck

he couldn’t help it, just watching you tonight at the dance and just now underneath him, it was the only name that seemed fitting

‘fuck, i’m close––’ he pants

you perk up and clench around him, wanting to make him feel good

he curses into your neck and keeps pounding you, sliding a hand down to rub at your clit

you jolt underneath him, moaning breathlessly at the feeling of his soft fingers in comparison to his hard thrusts

he reaches his high first, his hand and his hips not stopping until he feels you convulse around him

‘fuck––’

‘oh god tommy––’

he crashes his lips against yours and grinds his hips into you as you settle down from your orgasms

after a few moments of you giving each other soft kisses here and there, tom pulls out of you

he goes to discard the condom and leads you to the bathroom to pee, giving you a kiss on your forehead as he leaves you to do your business

it all feels very mundane and home-like and just warm

when you’re done, tom has a glass of water for the both of you and you take a sip before getting into bed and under the covers with him

he opens his arms and lets you slide in next to him, resting your head on his chest, wrapping your arm around him as he holds you close

after a while of comfortable silence, he speaks up

‘i’ve been wanting to do this for a really long time, you know’ he says absentmindedly as his fingers trace patterns on your waist

you nuzzle into him, ‘yeah?’

he hums, ‘always found you beautiful’

you’re glad he can’t see how flustered his words make you, ‘mm i always found you insufferably hot’

he laughs and his chest vibrates under you

‘insufferably?’

‘you know how you are’ a teasing tone to your voice as you answer

‘fair enough’

after a small pause you speak up hesitantly, ‘so...what now?’

you can hear and feel him take a sharp inhale before he responds, ‘well i was hoping i could take you out soon? i know we’re doing this all backwards but––i’d love to call you mine if that’s alright?’

you smile, delighted by his response, ‘i’d like that a lot.’

you can hear the smile in his voice, ‘yeah?’

you laugh, ‘yeah’ you kiss his chest and he squeezes your waist in response

the two of you talk for a little bit more and soon enough you drift off to sleep

tom drives you back to school on saturday to pick up your car after he made you breakfast, of course

and honestly he wasn’t a bad chef, he’d apparently learned from his younger brother

and if that didn’t make you fall for him more, you don’t know what would

he leaves you with a kiss and makes sure to wait until you’ve pulled off safely to make his way back home

when you come back to school the next week, your friends quickly bombard you in your office and practically drag you into the hallway

‘so we noticed you left with mr. charming on saturday...’

‘and left your car here’ they wiggle their eyebrows suggestively and you can’t help but roll your eyes and laugh

just before you answer tom walks in and winks at you, a grin on his face, before stepping into the office

oh he so knew what you guys were talking about

your friends turn to each other immediately,

‘oh they totally fucked’

‘definitely’

your eyes widen and you shush them aggressively

‘this is still a school you know??’ but you all fail to hide your laughter

‘so how was it?’ they ask

you turn to make sure no one’s listening and look back at them, biting your lip

‘pretty fucking amazing’

they shout and cheer and you slap them playfully telling them to calm down

‘i’ll tell you more about it later, now shoo.’

you make your way back into the office, a playful and slightly embarrassed smile on your face as you feel tom’s eyes watching your every move

he scoots over next to you when you’ve settled in your seat and you can feel his minty, tea flavored breath tickling your neck ‘so did you tell them about how you sat on my––’

‘shut up!’

he cackles and slides his way back to his desk

you’re walking down the hallway later on when you bump into a familiar face

‘oh hi harrison’

he lights up when he sees you ‘haven’t spoken to you in ages, y/n how are you? heard you and tom finally got together, about time––he’s been moaning about you for months now’

you can’t help but smile knowingly at the fact that he’d told his friend all about it just like you did

and speak of the devil, tom comes strolling in out of nowhere, and walks up to you and haz in the hallway

you can’t help the smirk on your face when you see him and he immediately knows something is up

‘what did this div tell you?’

and your smirk turns into a grin, ‘oh nothing, just how you’ve been obsessing over me for months now,’ the glint in your eyes brightens and tom turns to glare at his friend

‘right,’ harrison speaks up, laughing, ‘well i’ve got things to do, you know sports to coach or whatever so i’ll leave you to it!’ before running off

you get tom’s attention again, a teasing sing-song tone to your voice, ‘you’ve had a crush on me’

he smirks down at you, his hands sliding down to your waist, ‘don’t act like i didn’t see the way you would look at me, darling.’ he grabs your ass subtly, and you gasp as he presses you closer to him ‘we both had it bad.’

‘now be a good girl and get to class.’ he walks off leaving you there gaping like a fish, your cheeks heating up as students start crowding in

‘thomas!’

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #enemies to lovers #tom holland hc #tom holland headcanon #teacher!tom holland #teacher!tom holland x reader #teacher!tom holland x teacher!reader

1K notes · View notes

dialovers-translations · 4 years ago

Text

Diabolik Lovers VANDEAD CARNIVAL ;; Normal Ending

--> This ending is the same across all ten different routes. You can unlock it by failing to select the right choices in the individual chapters.

ー The scene starts in the dining hall

Yui: ( I had plenty of worries at first, but ultimately, I was able to enjoy the Carnival quite a bit. )

( I’m glad I was able to make some nice memories... )

( However, for some reason I’m kind of...exhausted...It’s the good kind of tiredness though. )

Phew...

Ayato: Whatcha sighin’ for, Chichinashi?

Azusa: Eve, are you okay?

Yui: I’m just feeling a little tired.

Reiji: Good grief...Even though the Carnival’s finale has yet to come.

A dinner prepared by the nr. 1 rated chef in the whole Demon World is about to be served.

Subaru: Well, can’t blame you for bein’ tired after you walked all over the place...Oi, take a seat here.

Yui: Thank you, Subaru-kun.

Kou: Hold it, Subaru-kun! M-neko-chan is the Queen, remember?

She should sit here, no?

Yui: Eh...? In the very middle...?

Kou: Exactly! Sitting next to Subaru-kun by the edge of the table (1) would be way below your rank!

Subaru: Oi, you bastard! You better don’t think you can get away with casually insultin’ me like that!

*THUD*

Ruki: Oi, quit the violence. Take a good look at the table. Can you not see the beautifully lined up cutlery?

Subaru: Aah!? So what!?

Yuma: He’s upset ‘cause hittin’ the table will mess up the set up.

Shuu: Who cares about that...Haah, let’s just start eating already. I’m sleepy...

Kanato: ーー want to...

Ayato: Aah? Didya say somethin’ just now, Kanato?

Kanato: I said I don’t want to.

Why do we need to all gather around the table together and have dinner as a group?

I want to enjoy my meal with just me, her and Teddy...

Yui: K-Kanato-kun, calm down!

Kanato: How can I remain calm!? Don’t tell me you’re going to disagree with me as well? You’re fine with not being together with me...?

Yui: Um...You know, they say that food tastes better when enjoyed with a bunch of people, right?

Shuu: ...There’s absolutely no solid proof of that.

Yui: Uu...

( I-I guess I shouldn’t have expected them to fall for such a childish lie... )

B-But either way, you don’t get to eat like this every day, do you?

So don’t you think...You’d want to enjoy the food in the most delicious way possible?

Kanato: ...

ーー Understood. If you say so...

Yui: ( T-Thank god... )

Laito: Nfu~ Now that we got that out of the way, let’s get to our seats, everyone~!

I’m sure we’ll never enjoy a meal together with the Mukami’s at the same table after all, don’t you think~? Nfu~

Ruki: I sure hope so. Having to share the table with a bunch of uncultured swines is bad for my mental health.

Yuma: Ah-ahー Can’t ya at least stop talkin’ shit ‘bout others while we’re eatin’...?

Reiji: Look, the food has arrived.

*Cling*

Yui: Waah...!

Ruki: Seems like they have chosen for an elaborately planned multi-course meal to fit the Carnival...Now this is something to look forward to.

Kou: Honestly, there’s way too many forks and knives, I feel like I’ll mess up.

Yuma: Whatever. Ya can just pick a random one, right?

Azusa: They’re good knives...I’m sure they cut wonderfully...

Ayato: It looks hella good! This piece of meat’s mine!

Subaru: Ah, oi!! You jerk! I had my eyes on that piece!!

Ayato: Idiot! The early bird gets the worm, right?

Subaru: Aah!?

Kou: Come on! Don’t fight! M-neko-chan’s startled, right?

Yui: Y-Yeah...It’s okay, Subaru-kun. There’s still plenty more, see?

Right. Give me your plate...? I’ll grab some for you.

*Cling*

Kou: Eeh~~? Why does Subaru-kun get to have all the fun? Hey, M-neko-chan, can you put some on my plate as well?

Yui: Yeah, sure!

Yuma: Come on, try this already.

Yui: Eh...?

*Cling*

Yuma: I can tell by lookin’ at these veggies. They’re fresh and packed full of nutrients, I’m sure they’ll taste delicious!

Yui: Waah...Thank you...!

Laito: Ah, Bitch-chan. Keep your plate there, okay?

Yui: Eh...?

Laito: Nfu~ I’ll drizzle plenty of this special Demon World-exclusive dressing on top...

There you go! All good to go!

Yui: Thank you, Laito-kun!

Laito: It’s fine. No need to thank me...Nfu~

Azusa: ...You’re already eating your dessert, Kanato-san...?

Kanato: I don’t need anything else. You can all eat the rest of the food as you please.

Azusa: Hm...Then...Shall I cut the cake for you?

Reiji: You shouldn’t, Kanato. You have to eat some of the other food as well to ensure a balanced diet.

You can have dessert afterwards.

Kanato: Oh come on, why not? Today is the Carnival after all. Right, Teddy?

Azusa: I can’t cut the cake yet then...?

Ruki: Exactly.

Azusa: Ruki...

Ruki: Haah...Give me that look all you want, no is no.

Come on, Azusa. Give me the knife in your hand.

Azusa: ...

Kanato: Fufu, please wait. I just had a great idea.

Azusa: ...?

Yui: Here you go, Subaru-kun. I guess this covers the basics.

*Cling*

Subaru: Yeah...

Kanato: Hey, you.

Yui: Eh...? Me?

Kanato: Exactly. Who else could I be talking to...?

Please give me that plate you’re holding right now. I’ll put on some cake as well.

Yui: B-But...This is the plate I put together for Subaru-kun...

Kanato: Uu...You’re going to ignore my order...?

Subaru: Oi, don’t you dare give it to that guy. Just hand it over to me like that.

Kanato: I was just...trying to be nice...by offering to put some of the cake on there...

Yui: ( Despite what Subaru-kun said, Kanato-kun claims he has good intentions. )

( In that case, it shouldn’t be wrong to hand Kanato-kun the plate, right...? )

In that case, I’m counting on you, Kanato-kun.

*Cling*

Subaru: Idiot! Who gave you permission to!?

Kanato: Fufu, thank you very much.

There you go, Azusa. Now you have a perfect excuse to cut the cake.

Come on, go ahead.

Azusa: Fufu, understood...

Ruki: Haah...

*Rustle*

Azusa: There you go, I cut it up...This blade is very sharp. It cuts beautifully.

Kanato: Come on, put the slice of cake on top of the plate.

Azusa: Sure...

Subaru: Oi, wait, wait, wait! The food’s gonna get all mixed up!

Don’t put it on there!

Kanato: Good grief, you’re so noisy.

Yui: ( Ah, the plate I prepared for Subaru-kun is becoming quite the mess... )

( I wonder, did Subaru-kun perhaps...realize this would happen? )

( That might be why he told me not to hand his plate to Kanato-kun... )

( I accidentally ruined it for him... )

Kanato: Here you go, Subaru. Azusa, please put some cake on this plate as well.

*Cling*

Azusa: ...

Kanato: Fufu, now I can have some cake as well.

Reiji: Kanato. Are you trying to abuse the commotion to have some cake?

Kanato: Geez, you’re so fussy, Reiji.

This is for Teddy. I won’t have any. Right, Teddy?

Eh...? What did you say just now, Teddy? Is that so? I can have some first? Fufu, thank you.

Fufu, it’s delicious.

Reiji: Haah...Good grief.

Subaru: How am I supposed to eat this hot mess of a dish!?

Yuma: ...My condolences...

Shuu: ...Haah.

Yui: ( Shuu-san seems...tired per usual... )

U-Um, you’re not going to have anything, Shuu-san?

Shuu: I don’t really need any. It’s too much of a drag.

Yui: But it’s such a rare opportunity, so you should probably try at least something...

Shuu: Then I don’t mind eating if you feed me something.

Yui: N-No way!

Kou: Say, M-neko-chan~? Are you cheating on me now?

Yui: Eh?

Kou: After Subaru-kun’s, you would prepare my plate next, remember~?

Yui: Ah, sure. I’ll do that right away, okay?

*Cling*

Yui: ( This really is quite the sight. )

( I didn’t think I’d ever see all of them around the same table... )

( It almost feels like a dream... )

Ayato: Oi, Chichinashi. Why are you over there grinnin’ by yourself?

Yui: Eh!? I-I’m not grinning, really...

Laito: Nfu~ Were you having lewd thoughts perhaps, Bitch-chan~?

Yui: N-No...!!

ー Fireworks go off outside

Yui: ...!?

Reiji: Oh dear? As if on cue, the fireworks indicating the Carnival’s finale have been set off.

Yui: Waah! Amazing...! How pretty...!

Ruki: The fireworks here are slightly different from those in the human world. They are induced with magic, so they remain in the air much longer.

Yuma: Ohー I see. I guess that’s why they keep their shape mid-air like that.

Yui: I see...That’s amazing!

Azusa: Eve, are you happy?

Yui: Yeah, I am! This is fun...!

( It was a wild ride, but I’m glad I was able to make a fun memory with everyone in the end. )

( I hope we all get to spend time together like this again one day... )

ーー THE END ーー

Translation notes

(1) 末席 or ‘masseki’ is the term for the seat which is the furthest away from the ‘seat of honour’ at a long table.

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #vandead carnival #diabolik lovers translation #vcnormalending #shuu sakamaki #reiji sakamaki #ayato sakamaki #kanato sakamaki #laito sakamaki #subaru sakamaki #ruki mukami #kou mukami #yuma mukami #azusa mukami

173 notes · View notes

themarshmallownerd · 3 years ago

Text

New Chapter: Like Forty Dogs

Link: Chapter 6

Previous: Chapter 5

First: Chapter 1 (AO3)

A/N: I cut this chapter in half because it wound up being so unexpectedly long. But I kept myself from cutting too much because I had a feeling you guys would enjoy the ending to this one ;)

Thanks as always to my friend @i-write-shakespeare-not-disney for the song rec on this one and for reminding me that long chapters are a blessing, not a curse. I owe you a million, hon

Preview: “Um…” Wanda turned to face James again. Although, her eyes were kept downward, embarrassed as she was about her friend’s show of challenge. A dare, really, for James to come out while she was there. “Would you mind meeting her?”

James answered slowly, “That depends. Am I in trouble for bringing you back late?”

Wanda uttered a breathy laugh. “No. At least, I think not.”

“Oh, well, if you think so…”

Wanda chuckled again, urging him to, “Come on,” as she shuffled out of the car. There was only a fleeting second of hesitation before she heard James follow her, the car shutting off in his absence and his boots crunching on the loose pavement at the end of the road.

It didn’t escape her notice that when their knuckles brushed against each other, he shied away from her for once. As if they truly were teenagers in trouble, having been caught by their parents after sneaking out. He even stopped at the edge of the front porch, keeping his distance as Wanda continued forward to greet her friend at the door.

At first, Wanda only offered a slight hug and kiss to the freckle on Carol’s cheek, like normal. “Hi, hon,” she whispered. “How were the boys?”

“They were good,” Carol answered, equally casual. That is, until Wanda stepped aside, giving a full view of James behind her. She crossed her arms again, eyes narrowing, as if it was the first time she had noticed him there. She addressed him in a voice that was far too friendly amidst her otherwise defensive demeanor. “Hello there.”

James gave a minute wave. “Hi. I’m Bu—I—I mean, James.”

“I see,” Carol remarked simply. “I’m Carol. I’m a friend of Wanda’s.”

“I know. She’s told me a lot about you. A—and so has Sam. Sam Wilson, he’s a friend of mine. He volunteers down at the VA.”

“Yeah, I know him. He’s a cool guy.”

Wanda smirked, remembering what Sam had told her about the time he had tried to talk to Carol about her and James. She looped her arm around Carol’s, readying to usher her friend back inside before Carol could follow through on that concept of giving a ‘shovel talk.’

“Well, it’s getting pretty cold out here. We should let you go, James. But thank you for dinner! It was wonderful.”

“Yes,” Carol added, patting Wanda’s hand that was wrapped around her arm, “and thanks for getting this one home alright, too.”

“Of course,” James returned kindly. “I…I guess I’ll go then. But, Wanda, I’ll talk to you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“Actually, before you go,” Carol cut in before James could turn away, “I was hoping to ask you something, Sergeant Barnes.”

Wanda tensed, fingers tightening into the fabric of her friend’s jacket sleeve in an unspoken reminder to please, be nice.

Carol went on without acknowledging it in the slightest. “My girlfriend’s being recognized as a County Volunteer of the Year over in Sakaar. There’s going to be a whole banquet for it this Sunday. She invited Wanda to come as one of her guests, but if you’d like, we can probably get an invite for you, too.”

That’s what tonight was. Not her excuse to interview James, but an arrangement to interview him later.

Hoping to spare him of that pressure, Wanda tried to insist, “Oh—you don’t have to, James. It will probably be boring—”

“Oh, yeah, very boring,” Carol concurred earnestly. “That’s why we’re trying to invite some people we know, and can actually talk to. And even if it is boring, the food is supposed to be good, at least. It’ll be a good excuse to dress up, and eat, and get to know each other for a few hours. What do you think, Sarge?”

“Carol,” Wanda tried again, “it’s not really—”

“OK.”

“OK?” Wanda and Carol echoed simultaneously, one shocked and the other pleased.

James shrugged, then ran a hand through his hair in what Wanda recognized to be one of his more restrained nervous tics. “Well, I mean…I’m not doing anything else this weekend. I was keeping it free for something to do with Wanda, so…why not?”

“Why not?” Carol repeated, a satisfied smirk coloring her expression as she turned to Wanda.

Her friend sighed shortly.

“You said it was in Sakaar?” James asked.

“Yes,” was Carol’s reply. “Wanda has all the details in her invitation. I’m sure she can forward you the email, no problem.”

“Only if you really do want to go,” Wanda put in.

“I do,” James promised. Although, Wanda didn’t miss the way his gaze darted to Carol, as if concerned how she would react to the soft tone to his voice being directed at the young mother.

“Great. We’ll see you then, Sergeant,” Carol declared with finality.

#WinterWitch #ScarletSoldier #bucky barnes x wanda maximoff #bucky x wanda #my stories #Wanda Maximoff #Bucky Barnes #Carol Danvers #next update will be for Find Me Uptown!!!

18 notes · View notes

poptod · 4 years ago

Text

Pull the Stars Out of the Sky (And Gift Them to Me), pt. 2 (Ahkmenrah x Reader)

Description: The more you learn about why he’s keeping you there, the less you want to be there. Yet, there are parts of you that are becoming more comfortable in his presence.

Notes: I was a little worried, rereading the first part, that ahk being that affectionate was unrealistic for human behavior, but then this dude did exactly that to me n holy shit. okay. now i have a basis for my writing WC: 5.7k

As dusk began to claim the land, the thick scent of cooking meat and boiling beer began to drift from the city, a mouthwatering combination that quickly reminded you of your own hunger. The Pharaoh wasn't starving you purposefully––or at least you didn't think he was––but he had left you tied to his bed with no chance of escape. Your stomach bubbled as you stared out at the distant city, past the river and to the mirage of a horizon.

You tried to swallow, but your tongue cracked against the roof of your mouth. It had been a while now since you'd had anything to drink. As much as you hated it, you would have to ask Ahk for something to drink and eat when he came back.

Tugging at the restraints only worsened the burn around your wrists, your soft skin chafing against rough rope. Again you tried to swallow, muscles moving around nothing as you did, aching from misuse. You weren't sure if you should await his return with excitement or dread––yes, his return may herald food and water, but you were more at his mercy than ever before. Merely the fact that he knew of your existence set you on edge.

Outside the locked room, murmuring voices passed by, muted words accompanied by soft footfalls. You watched the door expectantly, but no latch clicked and no one entered.

A couple more groups passed by in the same manner before you stopped looking to the door. Instead you tried to focus on the city––if you squinted hard enough, you could see the moving heads of the market crowd thinning in the coming evening. How far away their life seemed and how you longed for it as never before. Very rarely did you ever take to idolizing or wanting things, as material possessions didn't ever interest you, and you were perfectly happy with the way your life was proceeding. Not anymore, of course. You wanted nothing more than an out for this. Terror didn't quite describe it––more of a quiet dread.

The click of the door caught your attention and you whirled around, eyes wide as they met the unfortunately familiar eyes of the Pharaoh. You hated to use his name. Too personal. He adored you, though––used your name often, smiled when he saw you.

"It's good to see you safe," he said as he approached you, a large and ornate tray in his hand. Once he reached the bed he knelt on it, setting the tray aside as he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"What's that?" You asked, motioning with your chin towards the tray. He brought it back to his side, pulling off the clay lid to reveal a wealth of fruit, bread, and wine. As if on cue your stomach growled, sparking a small chuckle from him.

"I realized you haven't gotten much to eat or drink since you've been here, so I thought you might enjoy it," he said, leaning forward further to untie your hands from the bed.

The moment he announced it was for you, you reached for one of the rolls and bit into it. Unlike much of the food you had during your life, it was soft, practically melting in your mouth as you chewed on the sweet flavor. It was, in a way, somewhat similar to what you imagined clouds would taste like.

He, in his naturally unsettling nature, watched you as you ate but did not partake in his gift. Halfway through the three plums you wondered if perhaps he had poisoned it, but considering how overprotective he was you didn’t consider it likely. If anything he would drug you into submission, and while that wasn't favorable outcome, it was a more lenient fate than poison.

"What kind of work did you do before you came here?" He asked. Your chewing gradually slowed as you looked to him, once again reluctant to inform him on yourself. But you swallowed, took a breath, and spoke.

"Small jobs," you said. "Favor for favors."

"Come now, I'm sure there's more to it than that. I'd like to learn about you," he said softer, as though his past cruel actions had not left blisters on your skin. You looked at him in contempt, let it simmer around him before you reluctantly continued.

"I travelled around a lot. People would ask me to do these favors for them––hunt the creatures taking their children, fix their roofs, crawl down the well to get the dead birds out, and in return I would have a meal and a bed for a little bit. Just a day or two. Didn't want to stay longer than that anyway," you said, trying to concentrate more on your food and less on his stare.

"How many towns have you stopped in?"

"I never counted," you said.

"Then how long have you been doing this for?"

"About as long as I can remember. Why are you keeping me here?"

He paused, taken back for a moment at your straightforward question.

"I told you, you're safer –"

"No," you interrupted him. "Why – why do you feel the need to keep me safe? You don't know me and I have been anything but kind."

This time he paused for longer, truly debated his words before he spoke them, and only answered when you raised your eyebrows expectantly.

"It's not like me," he finally said, deep and almost curt as his voice cracked. "My officials have been giving me strange looks for it, actually. I freed my slaves but kept you here... of course they'd have questions."

He looked down at his fidgeting fingers, trying to swallow through the lump in his throat.

"I don't know why, but..." he turned back to you, eyes meeting yours as he raised his hand to cup your face. You stayed stock still, trying not to give a single thing away. "... I want.. to keep you. There's something about your presence, the way you carry yourself, that draws me to you. In a way you remind me of a lot of the spark I.. I lost, sort of. It's not your responsibility to make me feel better, I want you to know that. I just have a deep appreciation for your presence. I feel as though I might get better when I see you."

That was, undeniably, one of the strangest things you'd ever heard about yourself. You could barely process what he was saying, an ineptitude of yours that only grew when he touched you.

"Do not steal my freedom for your own benefit," you whispered, just barely verging on fully speaking.

"I know," he said, and the guilt was clear on his face. Not that it mattered––no matter how guilty he felt or how wrong he knew his actions were, it meant nothing without the actions to back it up.

The silence that built up between you was broken not by sound but by movement. Ahk reached for one of the tiger rolls, sticky with the sweetness of sun-dried dates, and held it up for you. Confusion took you for a moment, quickly followed by hesitation as you realized he was trying to feed you. Himself.

Fucking –

You took a deep breath, calming the enraged thoughts in your head before you gingerly opened your mouth. Gently you bit into it. The bread of it squished, filling your mouth with a sweet, thick taste of honey, dates, and nuts. You chewed slowly before you swallowed.

"You're strange," you said.

"You're not the first to tell me that," he said with a grin. You smiled back, curt and polite and meaningless, but he still seemed to enjoy it.

"How long will you keep me here?" You asked, but with the quiet volume your voice cracked in the middle of your sentence.

"In my room? Or in the palace?"

"Both."

"Well," he glanced to the side uncertainly, "in my room until I am assured you won't run away, and in the palace... um, you shan't need to leave the palace without me. So I suppose you leaving the palace would coincide with when I do, or when you ask me. I'm perfectly happy to take the time to take you outside every now and then."

"So... never," you said, crossing your arms.

"Oh, don't be upset now," he said softly, leaning closer to you as his hand came to rest on your cheek. He led you to meet his eye. "You'll be alright. I know it seems like a lot, but you get used to it eventually. I speak from experience."

While curiosity did seize you for a moment, it dissipated at the sight of his wandering hands. As his thumb began to stroke your cheek, the other drew up your thigh, up your chest before it landed on the sensitive skin of your neck. He looked at you, tried to hold your eye as he touched you but you didn't dare look up. Instead, you stared at the edge of the bed, wondering what ideas he had in store for this evening.

"You are beautiful," he murmured, taking in every inch of your complexion. "Has anyone ever told you that?"

"I don't really talk to people," you answered quietly.

"Why not?"

"Never really interested me," you said.

"Then you're an opposite of me," he said with a growing smile. "I adore learning about others, about myself... and I think it'll be quite the adventure getting to know you, as well."

Not if I can help it, you thought, but you refrained from speaking the truth. Instead you nodded vaguely, still withholding eye contact.

"Are you tired?" He asked, tilting his head to the side.

"A little," you said through a hoarse voice.

"Finish the food you want," he said, pushing the tray a little closer to you. "Then we can sleep. I've had a long day, so I'm tired myself."

He's had a long day? You thought. Try attempting to escape a kidnapper and then failing ten feet. And being tied to a bed for several hours, you added on at the end, bitterness tainting your thoughts.

There was nothing you could do now––not with him in the room, not so late into the night. As much as you loathed to return to the position of the previous evening, you let Ahk move you as he pleased, accepting a more gentle touch over the forceful movements that appeared in your disobedience's wake. The sheets rustled for a good minute or two before he found a comfortable position, arms encircled tight around your waist with his face buried in your hair.

It wasn't a position you were particularly comfortable with, and you certainly didn't enjoy it, but the panic that had so fiercely seized you no longer plagued your sleepy mind. Discomfort, sure, but not panic. He would not hurt you. He would not force you into anything but staying with him, and while that fate may have been an unpleasant one that you'd rather not endure, it was better than the cruelties he could legally unleash upon you. And, you supposed, he wasn't horrendous looking. With his eyes fluttered shut and soft breaths leaving him, he was quite serene.

Almost... pretty.

You shifted back down into the position he pulled you into, settling your back against his chest. Once there he tucked you under his chin, arms tightening ever so slightly, before a long sigh was followed by satisfied silence.

You took a deep breath. Rose. Rather exotic. The only reason you could identify it, was because the you'd only smelled it one other time.

Wind brought you to stir, a brisk chillness that grew goosebumps on your skin. You grumbled unpleasantly, curling back into the one source of heat you had; another's body. It took less than a second for you to realize exactly where you were––cradled in the arms of the Pharaoh. Continued consciousness brought about another realization, as well. He was petting your hair. Again.

Opening your eyes, you found a decent amount of light in the room, and turned to find the morning sky.

"Morning," he mumbled, but made no effort to move. You struggled for a moment before giving in with a huff.

"Can I get up?"

"May you get up. And no," he shifted closer to you, "just a minute longer."

True to his word he soon released you, though still didn't make any attempt to get himself out of bed. He stayed sprawled on the mattress till the cool breeze became too much to comfortably bear. At that point he curled up, wrapping himself up in the sheets you left.

"Ugh," he groaned, "is Naguib here?"

"No," you said, eyes flickering to the door for a split second.

"Naguib??" He said, this time much louder, and scuttering came from behind the large doors.

"My King," Naguib acknowledged, gently shutting the door behind him.

"Why, in the name of Amun, is it so cold today," he asked gruffly, though entirely unmenacing.

"Piye says a wind from the eastern lands will be coming in for the next several days," Naguib said.

You watched from your seat against the wall as Naguib opened an expansive wardrobe, flicking through the various clothing till he found what satisfied him. "It's far too cold, I live here for warm weather," Ahk continued to complain thoughtlessly, burying his face in his pillow.

"You live here because you can't rule a nation from an oasis," Naguib said, flipping a long skirt in the air to rid it of wrinkles.

"Speaking of the kingdom," Ahk said as he rolled off the bed and onto the floor, "how's it doing this morning?"

"You have court this morning on –"

"The embalmers from Thebes?"

Naguib nodded.

"God damn it," Ahk mumbled. "Why can't we ever have those meetings in the afternoon? Why is it always in the morning I have to hear about the rotting bodies?"

"Don't ask me, Sir. You planned the court hearing," Naguib said, helping the Pharaoh to his feet and promptly dressing him in his robes.

While the servant fit the beaded collar over Ahkmenrah's shoulders, he glanced to you, to your little space in the corner where a rug had been set. Chill bit at your fingers, forcing you to hide them between your thighs, though even those were beginning to turn cold. Egypt was the furthest north you'd ever been.

"My King, if I might make a suggestion?" Naguib asked quietly, straightening out the long cape. Ahk nodded, and he continued. "Maybe take your.. um, Amoke, with you? It's going to be pretty cold all day and you haven't got any blankets or curtains."

"Hmm?" Ahk said as he turned back, first to Naguib, before his eyes flickered over to your huddled form. Though you felt his eyes on you, you did not look up.

The two of them muttered amongst themselves for a little while longer before Ahkmenrah was fully prepared for the morning. Only then did the Pharaoh approach you, offering his hand for you to take. He gave his reasoning clearly––today would be chilly, and being tied up to a bedpost probably wouldn't do your already-present wounds any good. You didn't truly want to spend the day with him, but there was very little argument when the only other option was shivering all day.

Torches lined the hallways you walked down, illuminating the corridors and their storytelling paintings. Some were familiar, ones that had caught your eye, while others escaped your waking memory.

"Tonight we shall be staying in a different room," Ahkmenrah declared, placing his hand on the small of your back as though he was leading you. "One more deep inside the palace, where we keep the fires."

"Where are we going now?" You asked, looking up at him.

"To court, unfortunately. But breakfast first."

You sat at a table the likes of which you'd never seen; dark, glazed wood that stretched down the entirety of a dining hall, whose end you could barely identify in the dawn's awakening. The Pharaoh sat at the head, and you to his left on the long end of the table. Upon being seated, two servants brought out several different trays, setting them out in front of Ahk. Each of them had their own theme-sort of food––fruit, meat, cheeses, breads, a cup of beer and a plate to set it on. He was quick to notice they brought no plate for you, and quietly requested one.

The two of you ate in relative silence for a couple minutes before Naguib joined, sliding in across from you. At first your eyes went wide––rarely had you ever heard of a servant joining the head of the table, but with one glance to the Pharaoh, your anxiousness dissipated. He didn't appear to mind. Slowly you turned back to eating, eyeing the two men every now and again.

What strange people, you thought.

When you were first told you would be attending court, your instant imagery of the room was the throne room––wide arches overlooking the city, confirming the ego of the chosen Pharaoh, who would always believe himself above the lives of those he ruled. Instead, as you stood at the tiny threshold of the court, high ceilings towered above you in spirals and painted stars, long pillars calling from the marble and pooling on the crystalline floor, where your reflection sat stunned below you. Already people lined the sides of the long hallway. At one end sat the raised floor of the throne, accompanied by a few smaller seats, and at the other end were large, wooden doors allowing the light of the sun to come spilling into the room.

Eyes trailed after the Pharaoh as he took his seat, and by proxy the attention of the public fell on you, the unnamed, poorly-dressed stranger in tow. Naguib came up behind you, whispering in your ear to stand at the side of the throne, and to remain behind it at all times. Without thought you obeyed; this would be a long day, and it was one of the less demeaning rules to follow.

As the court was called into session, more servants came out from behind the throne, carrying sticks of fire with which they lit the beacons placed on either side of the room. The doors soon shut to keep out the unnatural chill, leaving much but the throne in shadow.

Every now and again you glanced to Ahk. He practiced much of the image you'd come to fear––the confidence, the succinct use of words, without a smile so much as occurring to him in thought. When he looked to you, though, in tiny moments where eyes were more trained on criminal testimonies rather than the Pharaoh himself, a familiar warmth filled his expression, and he would gift you a tiny smile. Each time you inhaled sharply and turned away––holding eye contact was a little much for you today.

Murmurings in the crowd grew steadily louder till you finally recognized the extra voices as coming from outside. Your fingers clenched into fists, staring at the doors as Ahkmenrah conversed quietly with his advisors.

As you suspected, the doors swung open, a soldier entering with subordinates behind him. He grew nearer to the feet of the throne, soon gaining the Pharaoh's attention along with your recognition. You'd seen this man before––your breath caught in your throat when you realized it was the same soldier who locked you up, and he was glaring at you with a menacing glint in his eye.

"My King," he said, bowing before he mentioned anything else. "I am Thaabit, I oversee the shipping complex in northern Memphis. A few days ago we lost one of our inhabitants. We have been searching, and... we discovered they made it here."

Ahk raised a single brow, scanning the man intently.

"Are you referring to Amoke?" He finally asked after painfully stretched silence.

"Yes, the slave beside you," he said with a nod, turning to you.

"I am not a slave," you said firmly, but Ahk silenced you with a raise of his hand, turning dully back to Thaabit, who was still bowed on his knees.

"Did they commit any crime?"

"Trespassing, for one," Thaabit said. "Not even citizens of Egypt are allowed in the complex, and I believe Amoke is from Mali. And without a legal card for travel and trade."

Ahk took another minute to process the man's words while you sweated beside him, your bottom teeth grinding into your skull.

"What do you suggest I do then?"

"Return them to the complex, of course."

He laughed––the Pharaoh, stone-faced and cruel, belted out a laugh in front of the whole of court. Wide eyes stared at him from the crowd, as did yours.

"Amusing," he said. "I'm not doing that."

"But my King ––"

"Silence," the Pharaoh commanded, and the soldier readily obeyed. "Anyone else to accuse Amoke of wrongdoing, or attempt to harm them in any way, will be punished henceforth. I'll let you off with a warning, Thaabit, as you did not know of this rule––but do not ask after them again, or you will be the one being sent shackled to Punt."

You watched from your spot in the shadows, watched the soldiers' deteriorating will, crumbling from a once-tall chest to hunched shoulders and a twisted, nervous expression.

"Yes, my King. Thank you," he said, much softer than any of his other words, and left with his spear gripped tight in his fist. Breath once taken from you returned in a relieved sigh.

"Thank you," you mumbled, half-hoping he wouldn't hear.

"Of course, my dear," he said, though didn't turn to you. "Anything for your safety."

He remained in a quiet mood for the rest of the day. Throughout dinner you tried to gauge his thoughts, to dig into what was on his mind, but there was little you could do without speaking. He didn't seem in the right mindset for a conversation, and you didn't want to open your mouth anyway.

"I enjoy taking you places," he said out of nowhere as the two of you strolled down the halls. "It's... cathartic, to see you smile during a long day."

You couldn't recall ever smiling today, but you didn't mention it. Instead you let his words sit for a moment before asking a question.

"Where are we going now?"

"I have to overlook our honey trade for the evening, make sure the transport and storage goes according to plan. Usually I'd have Piye do this, but... well, they're overlooking a ceremony tonight."

The sun had, somehow, already set behind the low mountains of the horizon. It was one of those rare times where you were surprised by the time of day––most days, you were outside all the time, and could easily predict the time of sunset. Being cooped up in the palace led you to this confusion, and for you to shiver from the chill wind of evening.

Like most Egyptians occupying the city, you were dressed in very light clothes, gifted to you by the King in lieu of your dirty outfit. While he conversed with the honey farmers, you wrapped yourself up in your arms and scanned your surroundings.

You stayed close to the small, outside door leading into the cellar, the open arch followed by lowering steps. Here the ground was pure, soft sand, unoccupied by buildings or citizens. Though you couldn't see the Nile, palm trees and small bushes surrounded you in little groves. The only movement came from the farmers and the Pharaoh. Tall, clay vases sat in a special cart, piled on top of each other with large corks stuck in the top.

"Perfect," Ahk said, counting the golden rings in his hand. "Safe journey to you."

"Thank you, my King," the main farmer said with a bow. He made a sign to the others, and they began to lift the jars into the cellar with great, careful effort.

"Most Pharaohs had their honey grown and harvested near the palace, for convenience," Ahk said once he stood beside you, his voice quiet for only you to hear. "I've found that the best honey is a little ways down the river––it's worth the payment for the delivery. Do you like honey?"

"I've only tried it a few times, but yes," you said.

"Mmm, I think you'll like this then," he said, smiling.

It wasn't long until the many jars were placed in the cellar, and the farmers were set off back in the direction of home. Ahk led you by your shoulder down the steps, where the air grew cooler yet, and the scent of fermented wine hit you strong.

"I believe we have some extra rations of sweet cakes down here," he said, leaving your side to search the rows of jars and pots. You watched from afar.

"It isn't necessary t-"

"Oh well of course it isn't necessary," he grinned, "but it is nice, isn't it? If you have wealth, why not enjoy it from time to time?"

You hummed acknowledgement but weren't sure whether you agreed or disagreed with his statement. Nonetheless, he continued his search, only returning to you when he found a sealed jar of the hard cakes. He paused in front of you, chest to yours as he smiled softly down at you. Gentle pressure of his fingers on your bare arm nearly had you flinching away, but he kept you in place, scanning you like a prized belonging.

"If I have you," he murmured, brushing the hair out of your eyes, "why not enjoy you from time to time?"

You could almost feel yourself go pale, but the Pharaoh just beamed and kissed your forehead, leaving your personal space with that small prize.

"Come now, Amoke," he said, calling you over to where the large jugs of honey were stored.

He handed the two biscuits in his hands to you, kneeling to work at the oversized cork. As it twisted, a soft hissing sound began to come from it, and slowly but surely it popped out of the vase's neck. Once he set the cork aside, he reached for a long stirring stick and dipped it into the golden honey. It dripped down sweetly as he drew it out.

"Hold this," he said.

The two of you switched positions, with him now carrying the biscuits and you holding up the stick of honey. He held the cakes out, letting thin strands of honey pour onto the top of the bread, breaking into thinner rivers that dripped back into the pot.

Once he was satisfied, he held the cake up to your mouth, letting you gently bite in as the stick in your hand went limp. While you slowly chewed, he closed the jug and set away the stirstick.

"Good?" He asked, biting into his own cake.

"Very," you said after much deliberation. It was almost too sweet. You liked it quite a lot, but you didn't want to tell him that, just in case it would inflate his ego.

"There is a great many of dishes I think you'll enjoy. I doubt you'll have had any of them before, if what you say about your past is true," he said, leading you out of the cellar as you both finished with your biscuits.

You'd almost forgotten his earlier words, but they quickly came back to you when he took you to a different bedroom. True to his word––deep inside the palace, where a fire was already stoked, lighting the room with warm light that flickered and danced with the shadows. Drapes of purple and pink fell from the ceiling, their curves leading to the image of the sky goddess, Nut. The bed was dressed in gold and blood red colors, blankets and pillows overflowing the mattress, while burning incense hung from the middle of the canopy.

Ahk took your hand and led you deeper into the room, pulling you to the center while he closed the door behind you. A lock clicked, but unlike the previous times, you didn't jump. By now you must've already expected him to lock it.

"I want you to be perfectly honest with me," he said, still standing behind your back. You froze, your posture straight as you stared straight ahead. "I won't punish you."

That's comforting, you thought to yourself, bitterly.

"How did you find yourself in that complex? Were you looking for something?"

"Is that what's been bothering you all day?" You asked through a tight throat.

For a moment he was quiet, and your heart was seized with fear, until he chuckled low and soft.

"Perceptive little thing, aren't you?"

"S-sorry, sir," you stammered out.

"No need to apologize," he said, and the heat of his words brushed the back of your neck, followed by a tracing finger as he circled you to face you. "Now answer me."

You could barely breathe, conscious thought more out of your head than ever before. Piercing eyes settled upon your own, staring through the walls you built between yourself and the world, devastating your shaky facade of safety.

"I thought I recognized one of the captives," you said, barely audible above the fire. Though your eyes fell from his gaze, he continued to stare. "It was a girl I met when I was younger. I played with her for an afternoon, and... she was begging with your soldiers. I couldn't leave her there, even if she wasn’t the girl I met."

He remained silent, waiting for you to continue.

"She is going to be turned to a slave, isn't she?"

"I'm afraid so," he murmured, almost sorrowful. Almost. "How did you escape?"

"They aren't very smart, your guards. It wasn't hard. Just had to wear down the restraints and leave when they were sleeping," you said with a shrug.

"And how did you end up in my room?"

Now he asks, you thought, internally rolling your eyes.

"It's... a long story," you tried, but your avoidant nature was caught quickly by the Pharaoh.

"We have all night," he said, stepping closer yet. "Unless you want to retire to bed already."

One glance to the small bed and you froze––not yet. You weren't mentally prepared quite yet.

"I got mistaken for one of your servants and I was herded into the palace by a guard. I managed to split off from the group, but you have patrols in the hallway, so I hid in the first room I found," you answered.

"I'm glad you did, then," he said softly, raising your head by a finger beneath your chin. "You are... perfect. Intelligent, passionate... beautiful. I am overjoyed to have met you in this life."

"As opposed to another life?"

"Yes, well," he chuckled, "the sooner the better, right? Take a seat, dear."

His hands held yours as he led you to the fireplace, pulling you to the carpeted floor. Piles of pillows and blankets surrounded you, accompanied by the ferns of palm trees hanging above you from the ornately painted vases, one on either side of the fireplace. As he moved to take a seat, you expected him to sit beside you or across from you like a normal person. Instead he placed his knees on either side of your hips, trapping you beneath him as he reached for you, pulling his fingers from your hands to your jaw.

You shivered from his touch and he laughed––cupping your face as he lovingly brushed the hair from your face.

"Sensitive, are you?" He asked in a teasing manner, clearly delighted by your reactions. You on the other hand hated it, and blushed brightly.

"It's only because I don't like people touching me," you said, turning away from Ahk. He was having none of that; forced you to look him in the eye, lips ever so slightly parted as his gaze fell to your own lips.

"Unfortunate," he said, sure to keep quiet in the small space between you. "I think you have touched me once, but I enjoyed it very much. You have nice hands."

It was obvious he expected you to touch him, to give into his questionless request. But you didn't. You barely maintained eye contact and your hands remained rooted behind you. Subdued irritation tugged at his smile, and to satisfy his need that you wouldn't willingly gift, he dipped his face into your collar, nuzzling his nose beneath your jaw and wrapping himself so tightly around you there was no space at all between the two of you.

He stayed like that for a couple minutes. When it became clear to him that you would not return the affection, he adjusted himself further, wrapping his legs around your torso as well and pressing the side of his face to your own. Like this he could easily tilt his head and kiss your cheek, which he did do inbetween playing with your hair and breathing your scent in deep.

"Mmm," he hummed softly, "you are a wonder of the Gods."

You didn't have the space of mind to tell him you don't follow his religion.

He pulled away, his hand still resting on your cheek, and said, "I will do anything to protect you. Know that, alright? And I will do anything in my power to keep you happy."

"I am not a person whose affections can be won with gifts. I'm sorry," you said, stating a simple truth.

"No, I didn't think so. You didn't seem the type. But I will grow gardens in your name. I will commission art of anything you like, and it shall be painted on the walls of the city. I will make you a God in my peoples' eyes."

A god? Your expression must've given away your alarm, as he smiled and explained himself.

"They listen to my every word. If I should say the night is day and the day is night, so it will be written... and so will you be remembered," he murmured, words spoken against your lips as he dipped in to kiss you. "A God for all of time."

#ahkmenrah x reader #Ahkmenrah #Night at the Museum #rami malek #rami malek character #ahkmenrah x female reader #ahkmenrah x male reader

79 notes · View notes

cloudywithachanceofanime · 5 years ago

Text

Besties with Diavolo: Throwing it Back

After seeing Diavolo admit that he gets lonely because no one interact with him, MC decided to spend more time with the Prince. Of course chaos ensures.

You were texting Diavolo talking about how it was always chaotic in the House of Lamentation and how some days you felt that you just need a tiny mental break.

You were shocked when he invited you to spend the weekend with him for a 2 day long sleepover. How could you ignore a deal like that?

It was hard when the day came that you had to leave. When you explain that you were going to be staying over at the castle for a few days chaos exploded.

Mammon was angry that he couldn’t come with you and how you were leaving your ‘first man’ behind. Belphie was trying to guilt trip you for trying to skip out of you guys nap times to be with the enemy. Asmodeus was begging you to let him come over just in case you guys need anything recorded that you wouldn’t be able to do because your hands are busy.. or messy. (You ignored that comment). Lucifer were breathing down your neck on why all of sudden you were going over, why wasn’t he informed, and how you should act around Diavolo and to not embarrass him. Satan and Beelzebub were the only slightly calm ones. Beel was too busy eating and Satan was enjoying Lucifer having a breakdown over something he couldn’t control.

You arrived at the palace and was met by Barbatos. He instructed you to were Diavolo was.

Surprisingly, being alone with him was a lot less tense then when Lucifer wasn’t around. You could really see how much of a dork Diavolo was.

You played some video games while he asked you some questions about humans.

You got onto the subject on what was big in the human realm at the moment, and you started talking about this one app.

He was curious about it, so you brought out your DDD and looked up some videos over the app.

He took a liking at seeing how the humans were making a joke that other humans could relate to and the dancing.

As you were watching videos and the same dances kept coming up, you noticed that Diavolo was doing making tiny movements that mimic the movements.

“Would you like to try to learn one of the dances?” you lightly asked. You promised that stars appeared in his gold eyes.

Most of the dance moves were quite easy to learn from him, except throwing it back.

“Am I just too flat, MC?” he question grabbing his butt. You let out a laugh at his action. At the moment, Barbatos walked in and Diavolo spun to him. “Barbatos. Is my butt flat?”

You think that’s the closest you got to seeing Barbatos’ confused face. He just blinked rapidly 5 times before sitting up straighter. “I do not believe so, my sir.”

After that, he just left. You then went back to training him.

“Now roll your back more. Exaggerate it,” you said putting your hand on your back and pushing it down. He followed you and the form look so much better. “Now when the wave gets to butt, imagine someone threw a ball at it and you want to hit it back.”

He popped his butt and you had to stop yourself from laughing.You were teaching the future King of the Devildom how to throw it back.When they speak of the first exchange program, there’s probably going to be a section on your interaction with the King and this will be there. And you were proud of it.

“Okay, let’s try putting it together.” You pressed play on the song and jumped next to Diavolo. He was actually pretty good with it.

As it near the part where he was suppose to throw it back, you scooted away and watched.

And the King came to serve. He wasn’t giving you cake, he gave you an entire bakery,

“Yes,” you screamed jumping up at him and wrapping your arms around him. His deep laughter rang in the room from his happiness.

You decided you would do the dance one last time, but record it.

You couldn’t help your smile on your face throughout the entire dance at how happy Diavolo seemed. At the peak moment, you threw it a little low, so Diavolo’s was front and center.

Soon as the song ended, Diavolo was quick to grab the phone and summon Barbatos. The video was played all Barbatos could do was give that smile as he congratulated his Lord on job a well done.

You asked for his permission to send it to the brother and he was quite fond of that idea.

If only you knew what you had done at that moment.

At the House of Lamentation

Everything was surprisingly quiet in the house, seeing how everyone was doing their own thing at the moment. Lucifer was working on some paperwork, Mammon was looking up things that could make him money, Levi was gaming, Asmo was getting ready to hit the club, Satan was reading, and Belphie was taking a nap on Beel while he eating a sandwich.

The calmness was broke by the sound of Levi screeching and his door slamming open. A broke amalgamation of names screeched of his brothers name came out of his mouth as he stumbled down the hall.

All the brothers came out to see him shaking with his entire face red. They gather around to ask if he was okay, only for him to stutter extremely bad before handing over his phone to Satan.

Satan saw a video was played and assumed it was that. He pressed the replay button with all the brothers around him.

“I’m a savage!”

Back at the Castle

You phone hasn’t stopped buzzing from texts and calls from the brother since you sent the video. Diavolo wanted to see the text messages to see how they felt about ti.

You clicked on the messenger app and tried to summarize each brother.

“Lucifer said... um... how dare I make Lord Diavolo do something like that and I need to delete the video and get back home right now.”

“Mammon is saying that I shouldn’t be doing such move around another man unless it’s him, but not really because he doesn’t want to see some human dance like that.”

“Levi just key smash most of the text with some ‘wtf’ in there and the last message is asking if I can do a Ruri dance with him.”

“Asmodeus... he just wants to come over... with some of his cameras... let’s ignore that.”

“Belphie... Beel said that we had some good dance moves and good job.. Then he asked if the food here was good.”

“Satan said good job on getting Lucifer to pop a blood vessel twice in one night. Also said we had some good moves.”

Diavolo let out a happy little laugh at their reaction saying that it was quite them.

“Good, now MC. Let’s build one of those pillow forts I saw them make. We can make one better than any human has made.”

You felt a little happy to see Diavolo so excite for something and actually enjoying himself.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Was this a hot mess? Yes. Did I not think this through and just write? Yes.

This is came to me late at night, more like early morning, and I just thought of how Diavolo is that chaotic good character. Then I spiraled down from there and before I know it, I’m imaging Diavolo throwing it back.

If Diavolo had TikTok he would be on deep deep tiktok, but let me have this. Also, rip to my search history. I had to look up any tiktok song where you throw it back and then see how people actually did it. This is just a crack fic to be honest.

663 notes · View notes

tinyboxxtink · 4 years ago

Text

Return To Sender

Ok so I was eating a corn on the cob earlier and it made me realize how similar it is to.....other things. So this came out. Yes, a corn on the cob prompt.

Don't judge me. Or do. Just enjoy.

PART 2

You had been working at SVU for several months now, and you loved every moment of it. Especially the moments with the ADA, Rafael Barba. You couldn’t deny you became enamored with him the moment he walked into the squad room on your first day. But you kept your little infatuation to yourself; at work anyway. When you would go home to your childhood best friend and current room mate, they’d ask you to spill details of your day, and many of those details included Rafael.

This one particular evening, Amanda had invited you out to eat with the squad. You hadn’t exactly “bonded” with anyone yet, and it was a welcoming gesture that you happily accepted. To your delight, the “squad” included Rafael! You desperately tried to hide your excitement as you followed Amanda to the back of the restaurant where the gang already had drinks and a calamari appetizer.

“I uh, I didn’t realize we were going fancy,” You sheepishly stated, after greetings of welcome were exchanged.

“I didn’t think Fazolli’s counted as ‘fancy’. Liv and I come here all the time” Rafael shrugged.

“Any food that doesn’t come out of Styrofoam containers is fancy to me, counselor,” You bit back with a bit more attitude than you meant. Rafael raised an eyebrow at your sudden bold demeanor.

“Ah. Well, I suppose we could take up a collection plate for you to eat something,” he smirked back as he sipped his scotch.

“Rafa, don’t be a dick. If you need a spot sweetie I got you, i invited you,” Amanda gave you a sympathetic look.

“I don’t think she’d have any trouble getting any guy to buy her anything in here,” Sonny chuckled, gesturing to your outfit.

Okay, so you were younger than them; Significantly younger. You couldn’t help it you were a child prodigy, graduating college at 18. And instead of being a rocket scientist, you used your many scholarship offers to go through the Police Academy AND Law School, because you wanted to use your smarts to help people. So yes, you were quite younger than the rest of them. Probably a big reason this was the first time you had been invited out to their “Grown Up” dinners.

You glanced down to the outfit Sonny was referring to; nothing fancy. Although you had to admit it showed off more cleavage than any of them were used to seeing on you. You blushed and pulled your jacket over your top and grabbed a menu to cover your red face.

“Thanks, I think,” You muttered a small thanks to Sonny, to which he winked back. Good lord maybe this wasn’t a great idea. You flipped out your phone and texted your roommate, begging them to help you get through this. You discreetly dictated the progression of the evening, like a play by play in a football game.

However as the night went on, you became more and more comfortable with your coworkers. They really were wonderful people; and the three drinks you had didn’t hurt either.

“Damn Y/N, I didn’t realize you were so funny!” Fin laughed, recovering from one of the jokes you had continually kept in the conversations all night.

“Oh yeah, Clown College is one of the most prestigious degrees I have in my collection,” You nodded your head as if in a subtle bow.

“That’s right, you’re like a child genius aren’t you?” Liv asked; she had definitely noticed that when she went over your resume to hire you.

“Emphasis on child,” Rafael muttered with food in his mouth. The group stopped laughing and glanced at him with perplexed looks.

“Really man?” Sonny asked with a hint of defense in his tone.

“Oh it’s fine, old man river is just upset he's not the center of attention for once,” you smirked at him without missing a beat. He huffed and muttered grumblings in Spanish under his breath while the rest of the table chuckled in amusement. Nobody had dared to mess with the big bad DA in social settings, he was scary enough in the courtroom.

You were so engrossed in the little cat and mouse game you were playing with the man you’d been obsessed with for months that you had forgotten you were in the middle of a conversation with your roommate. Your phone finally began vibrating on the table, causing Amanda to notice.

“Someone waiting on you?” She asked. “Boyfriend maybe?”

“Or a sitter, perhaps?” Rafa once again tried the young thing, but he was a bit more drunk than earlier and his quip made no sense.

“That would mean I HAVE a kid, counselor. Which I do not.” you rolled your eyes.”Or a boyfriend,” you added with a smirk. Oh God why were you being so brash NOW? Reign it in there, Don Juan.

You quickly jotted a text to your roommate letting them know you were ok and that the evening was going significantly better by the moment, and you’d tell them more when you got home later.

Not a second after you hit SEND did Amanda’s phone go off in her pocket. She looked at it with an amused smile.

“Uh how sloshed are you, newbie?” She giggled, starting to read the text.

Your face drained of all color, your expression frozen in fear. Oh God OH GOD she’s going to read that, let’s just say, ADULT detailed text you had just sent. You watched her expression go from amusement, to confusion, to absolute delight as she looked between you and Rafael. The rest of the table looked at each other in confusion, as she added “Ok ya’ll listen to this,”

Was she SERIOUS? She was going to read this intercepted text of your most private thoughts ALOUD to all of your coworkers?!

“Oh um, Amanda you know I really don’t think…” You tried going for her phone while looking at her with pleading eyes.

“Ok Ok, you’re right. I’m just teasing girl,” She smiled as she patted you on the back, and you started to relax back into your chair. That is, until you heard Sonny’s voice next to you:

“Oh my God the way Rafael is sucking down his corn of cob definitely confirms my thought of him giving EXCELLENT head,”

Your head spun so fast you swore it might have twisted off like a Barbie doll as you saw your phone was left unlocked and open on messages right on the table, and Sonny had just read a text you had sent your BFF earlier!

The entire table fell silent, Olivia had done a spit take as Sonny was talking. You couldn’t bring yourself to look up at ANYONE, you just snatched your phone off the table and stuck it in your lap while glaring holes into the floor. Should you leave? You should probably leave. Would it be worse if you left?

“Wow Y/N I am so sorry, I just...I ain’t the smartest guy and sometimes I read stuff out loud without thinking and I...I shouldn’t have been lookin at your messages,” You heard Sonny’s soft apology, but it sounded so far away. Oh God, were you having a panic attack?!

Suddenly, you hear a boisterous laugh that knocks you back to reality. You lift your head slightly from your lap to see Rafael laughing and shaking his head.

“So that’s why you're so mean to me, carino,” he smiled, dying down his laughter. “You have a crush on me!”

Oh good God, you’ve had nightmares go better than this.

“Wha-- n-n-no, you’re mean to ME, counselor,” You found yourself shooting back at him like a five year old.

“Oh good lord, just make out already!” Fin laughed, the others followed suit. The two of you locked eyes and blushed before quickly looking anywhere else but each other.

“Um...you know maybe I should go, I have court early tomorrow,” Rafael cleared his throat, gathering his belongings.

“Let’s all just agree the last 10 minutes never happened, yeah?” he proposed to the group, who all nodded back with amused smiles.

“I’ll see you all on Monday,” He nodded to the group as he got up from the table, walking behind your chair.

“....And for the record, I AM excellent in that area,” He whispered in your ear. Your face turned hot, your core tingled. Your head whipped around to confirm what he had just said, but he was already out the door. Did….Did you just make that up in your head?

You glance at the now three remaining dinner mates, huge smiles on all of them back at you.

“Well, I guess you’re welcome then!” Sonny laughed, Amanda hit him in annoyance.

Yeah. That had DEFINITELY just happened.

#rafael barba #raul esparza #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba x you #svu #law and order svu

56 notes · View notes

hermannsthumb · 4 years ago

Note

I know you don't usually write PRU stuff, but if you ever feel inclined, here's a ficlet idea! so: Newt is trying to fight off the Precursors by constantly reminding himself that He Is Human. but whenever newt thinks about what makes him Feel Human, the answer is always hermann. so newt starts conjuring up vivid mental images of hermann (doing mundane, hermann-y things) to ward off the Precursors. bonus point if, like, newt fondly remembering smth innocuous (like the scent of Hermann's chalk dust?) is enough to actually sever the alien mind control.

Anonymous asked: Maria!!! Would you ever write an angsty post uprising prompt? Or even a pre uprising? Anything with Newt fucking around with Kaiju and being sad i am HERE FOR 👏

in honor of the sequel’s 3 year anniversary, let’s try something a little different 👀 THIS ONE GOT AWAY FROM ME RE: LENGTH....I'll leave it up to interpretation whether or not the bonus is wholly fulfilled.... also on proofing this I realized it might need content warnings? so vague refs to disordered eating and alcohol drinking (ie, newt’s body is inhabited by aliens who forget how human stuff works)

-----------

Honestly, Newt’s life has been kind of a shitshow lately. He’s too, like, high strung. Too many responsibilities. Not enough hours in the day to get that shit done. He’s even higher strung than he was during the war, which is nuts, because certain doom was lurking around every corner. Maybe that’s why it’s not that nuts, though. The war was chaotic—and Newt’s fueled (or, used to be fueled?) by chaos. The kaiju were unpredictable. The kaiju didn’t run on a 9-5 schedule. The kaiju didn’t expect Newt to have three new jaeger prototypes on their desk by noon on a fucking Saturday, which is usually the day Newt spends two hours in his expensive bath tub and drinks a nice bottle of wine, and definitely not a day he wants to spend giving himself a stress migraine and shouting at underlings to make themselves useful. On top of that, his usual cafe got his coffee order wrong—when Newt had to run in to get it, himself, on a Saturday morning—and it only had half the espresso shots he really needs for the day. No wonder he’s going grey at forty. Fucking nightmare. Stable employment is exactly the kind of chaos that’s bad for Newt—give him the kaiju any day, thanks.

“Dr. Geiszler?”

Newt pushes his sunglasses up, and scowls at whichever one of his employees has dared to interrupt his catnap. The fluorescent overheads are brutal on his poor eyes right now. The lab needs more natural lighting. Maybe if he complains, they’ll knock out some walls in put in a few more windows. “Did you find any Aspirin?” he says.

Wordlessly, Newt’s assistant passes him a bottle. Newt pops the cap off and takes at least four. The coffee he washes it down with is cold. “How are the last simulations coming along?” he says, flicking his sunglasses back down. He seems to have so many migraines these days. It’s the contact lenses, he thinks—making the switch over from frames so late in the game. Screwing with his perceptions. Newt went thirty years with frames, after all. “We only have two hours before—”

“We’re almost done,” his assistant cuts in. “We’re working as fast as we can, Dr. Geiszler.”

“But are we gonna make the deadline?” Newt says.

She fidgets, and moves her clipboard to her other arm. “Well—we’ve had some—issues.”

Newt stands up with a long sigh. Double overtime, probably. Sunday lost to this shit too. That new bottle of wine waiting for him on his kitchen counter bought for nothing. “Gotta do everything myself, huh? Unbelievable.”

He follows his assistant over to the main lab down the hall, where his team of j-techs are hurrying around. Hardly anyone in proper lab attire—no labcoats—someone in sweatpants—Newt wasn’t the only one who had his Saturday ruined, probably. No one else is going grey, though. “What’s this shit?” he says, stopping in his tracks with one foot through the doorway. The high-tech holo-smartboards have been pushed aside, and instead, someone’s wheeled in a huge…chalkboard.

“Technical issues,” his assistant says. “The other floors are having the same problem—something in the new interface update that downloaded last night, we think. They’re all out of commission. Technology is working on it, but for now, we had to pull that out of deep storage.”

Two of his scientists are scrawling across the board quickly—one with white chalk, the other with pink. They’re debating something in hushed tones. Newt hasn’t seen a chalkboard in years. It doesn’t fit with Shao Industry’s whole chic, sleek, futuristic aesthetic. So—bulky. And messy. “Of course it would happen today of all days,” Newt sighs. The sight of it makes him feel odd, and he can’t seem to drag himself any further into the lab and any closer towards it.

His assistant says something. Newt doesn’t hear—he’s listening, instead, to the squeaking of chalk across the blackboard. So noisy and obnoxious. It reminds him of years and years ago, of working in a grimy little basement, of…

“—look it over. Dr. Geiszler?”

“Hm?” Newt says. It was like a layer of fog had begun to lift from his thoughts, but the interruption sends it rolling right back in.

“I said we’re ready for you to look it over. Only if you want too, of course,” she adds, nervously.

“Uh-huh,” Newt says.

Newt’s never had anyone fear him before, not like his employees seem to fear him—he’s not sure he likes it. His scientists shut up the second he looms over (well—under, Newt’s never loomed over anyone in his life) their shoulders to inspect their work so far. The squeaking stops. One of them lowers their piece of chalk. “Wait,” Newt says, too-loudly, surprising them and himself. They both look at him with the same nervousness as his assistant, like he’s about to start shouting or something. “Keep doing that.”

“Keep…?”

“Writing,” Newt says. “On the chalkboard.”

The scientist frowns at him. “Um, okay,” she says. “What am I supposed to write?”

“Anything,” Newt says. “Seriously. Anything.”

She hesitates.

“Anything,” Newt repeats.

She picks up the white chalk, and writes out her name, then doodles a few random pictures—a DNA helix, a flower, a cat face, a star. Newt shuts his eyes, and breathes in deeply. That smell. He snags the forgotten piece of pink chalk from the ledge. “Can I have this?” he says. He doesn’t wait for them to respond—though they both nod yes frantically, and bewilderedly—before writing out his own name on the board. Dr. Geiszler. It looks wrong, so he writes Newt beneath it. He shuts his eyes, and writes Newt again. Why does he feel like he’s done this sort of thing before? This thing is ancient—before his time at Shao—he wouldn’t have used it before they carted off to the basement. Newt, Newt, Newt Was Here,he writes, Newt +, and then he stops.

He opens his eyes. “Who’s Hermann?” his assistant says.

Newt + Hermann. Newt didn’t realize he wrote it. “Someone I knew,” he says, faintly. “Years ago. He was my—” He swallows. He feels strange. “My colleague?”

Strange. Dizzy. The Aspirin isn’t working. Definitely the contact lenses. He could afford laser eye surgery now, if he wanted, maybe he should look into it. He grips the ledge of the chalkboard, swaying, and grits his teeth; his two scientists back away from him slowly, no doubt worried he’s about to hurl all over their shoes. He might, to be honest. Newt + Hermann. Hermann was his colleague. Hermann was his— “Are you feeling okay, Dr. Geiszler?” his assistant asks. “You look…”

“Tell Shao I’m taking the rest of the day off,” Newt says.

“What?”

“You guys got this shit handled without me,” Newt says. He pockets the chalk. “I’m not—I’m not feeling myself. I think I need to go home and lie down. Seriously, you’ve got it under control—all these numbers look, uh, good, I trust you. If you guys don’t get it finished you can just tell Shao it’s my fault, okay?”

She gapes at him. “Uh,” she says. “Okay?”

Newt doesn’t go home. He goes to the nearest shop he can find instead, and makes a beeline for the art supplies aisle. Only a few boxes of chalk in stock. Four multicolored, two all-white, one yellow. He drops them all into his basket but the yellow, which he rips opens and immediately smells. Newt + Hermann. Hermann always smelled like chalk dust—he always had a fine layer of it on his clothing, patches of it on his blazer, his sweatervest, even on his undershirt. Newt used to tease him for that. He closes his eyes, and breathes in again. Funny—all those baths, all those bottles of wine, and this stupid little box of chalk is what’s finally making him feel calm for once. Quieting down his brain. He didn’t realize how loud it’d gotten in there. When Hermann would kiss Newt, he would sometimes stain Newt’s clothing with chalk, too, and Newt would pretend to be annoyed, but he never really was.

Someone is speaking to him. An employee. They’re staring at him, a cautious distance away, and Newt’s not sure what they’re saying.

His vision’s gone blurry—he didn’t realize he’d started crying, either. He wipes his eyes on the cuff of his blazer and sniffles. “Sorry,” he says. The box of yellow chalk is wet. “Um. Do you have any more of these in the back?”

He takes the bus home for the first time in years, one hand stuffed in his little brown shopping bag the whole time, wrapped around a box of chalk. When he gets back to his apartment (his big, lonely, apartment), he pulls out the only food in his fridge—some leftovers from a Shao Industries event three nights ago—and settles down on his big, lonely couch. He can’t stop thinking about Hermann. Five or so years, maybe more, not thinking about Hermann, and now suddenly—it’s like the floodgates have opened. He thinks about Hermann’s haircut. (Bad.) He thinks about Hermann’s smile. (Silly, and sweet.) He thinks about Hermann’s dumb accent, and the clack of Hermann’s cane on the floor, and Hermann’s chalk squeaking over his chalkboard, and how it felt when Hermann would wrap him in his arms and kiss him and whisper things to him. Hermann’s sweaters always smelled like mothballs and stale cigarette smoke. Terrible combination.

Newt’s stomach growls. He’s finished the small bit of leftovers without realizing, and is apparently still hungry. He would kill for some sushi takeout right now. Or pizza, God. Yeah, it’d be screwing with his new diet and fitness plan—he casts a guilty glance over at his brand new exercise bike, which is gathering dust in the corner by his TV—but he’s tired of doing stupid kale and juice cleanses or whatever, just to please—well. He’s only human.

He is?

He walks up the stairs to his bathroom, and stares at himself in the mirror. Stupid vest. Stupid tie. Neat hair, clean-shaven cheeks, contact lenses. Newt’s only human. “I’m human,” he tells his reflection. Is he human? He felt human standing by that old chalkboard back in the lab, and holding that box of yellow chalk in the aisle of that little shop. He felt human when he was remembering things. Because of—Newt blinks at himself. Because of whom?

“Hermann,” he says, and smiles at the way the name makes him feel. He should text him, maybe.

-------------

“I must say,” Hermann says, “I was quite surprised when I received your dinner invitation. You’ve done a rather fine job of ignoring my calls as of late. I’d thought— Ah, thank you,” he adds, as Newt holds the door open for him. He steps into Newt’s apartment and cranes his neck around, squinting curiously, and then shoves a bottle of red wine at Newt’s chest. Hermann is much more personable than Newt remembers—what little Newt remembers—and he wonders if it’s age or something else. “I’ve been holding onto this one for a while. It’s the one you gave me as a part of a gift for my thirty-seventh birthday—you remember? Oh, but isn’t it so terrifically, er, modern in here.”

“Is it?” Newt says. He’s never given much thought to his apartment before, but he stares around at it now in mild interest. It is very chic, isn’t it? Monochrome. Impersonal. Not something Newt would’ve picked for himself. “Yeah, I had some interior decorators come in and do it for me.”

Hermann arches an eyebrow. “How…”

“Modern,” Newt offers. He puts the bottle of wine on his marble kitchen island. “Thanks for this, by the way, but I’ve actually been trying to cut back on the—” He bites back drinking. No need to alarm Hermann. “—Calories, so if it’s cool with you I’d rather not open it. I’m doing a, um, a new fitness program.”

“Ah,” Hermann says. “I suppose that explains that, then, doesn’t it?” He points at the dusty exercise bike. Newt watches his gaze move from that, to the barren leather couch, to the short staircase which leads to Newt’s shut bedroom door. Newt can practically see the gears working in his head. “Will—ah, what was their name, that little flight of fancy of yours—a dalliance, one might say—will they be, ah, joining the two of us?” He looks at Newt out of the corner of his eye. “Alice, was it?”

“Who?” Newt says, blankly.

Hermann breaks out in a broad grin, which he quickly tries, very badly, to turn into a sympathetic frown. He pats Newt’s arm. “There’s the spirit, then, Newton! All in the past, I presume? Hardly any use in dwelling on a broken heart. Then again—it’s not as if you were together long enough to warrant those sorts of dramatics, were you?” he says, cheerily. “What I mean is—certainly it wasn’t as if you had any sort of deep or emotional connection with—?—oh, I’ve forgotten the name again.”

“Uh,” Newt says. He’s not really sure who Hermann’s talking about, but just based on that fact alone, he would assume Hermann is right. “I guess not?”

“Precisely as I expected,” Hermann says, with a satisfied nod. “Rotten grounds for a relati—for a fling. You deserve far better, Newton.” Hermann touches Newt’s arm again, and this time, he doesn’t move his hand. It makes Newt’s skin prickle pleasantly. “You look well these days, though I admit it’s a bit of a shock to see you without your glasses,” Hermann continues, flicking his eyes up and down Newt twice. He lingers on Newt’s left hand, over the bare spot where—until this morning, when he suddenly realized how stupid it looked and yanked it off—he was wearing that Elvis ring. “Ending things must be treating you kindly. I don’t suppose I could dash to your loo?”

“Loo?” Newt says. “Oh, right. Yeah, it’s that door there, right off the living room.” He drops down onto the leather couch. “Knock yourself out. I’ll be right here.”

Hermann disappears into Newt’s bathroom, and comes back out three minutes later with combed hair, a straightened collar, and the vague smell of cologne. He’s tucking a small bottle into his top pocket. “I found a box of hair dye in your medicine cabinet,” he declares, smugly. “I knew there was no bloody way that was natural. Though I’m not surprised it fooled Alice.” He rests his cane against the glass coffee table and sits down next to Newt. Right next to Newt. The whole sofa to pick from, and he’d rather their thighs touch. Newt doesn’t mind—actually, the contact is strangely grounding, like Hermann’s hand on his arm had been earlier. He’s here, in his living room, with Hermann, his friend Hermann, his colleague Hermann, his—well, question mark—Hermann.

“Hermann, can I ask you something?” he says. “Something important?”

“By all means,” Hermann says, leaning in and fluttering his eyelashes. Even over the cologne, Newt can still make out that mothball-chalk-smoke smell.

“Do you take your coffee with sugar?” he says.

Hermann laughs. “Do I—what?”

Newt repeats the question. The smile slips off Hermann’s face, and he draws away, furrowing his eyebrows. “Well,” he says, “yes, usually, only I’m not sure what—”

“Sugar, and some milk,” Newt says. “It was the same with your tea. And you had a mug that you would use—you wouldn’t use any other. It was blue, and it said—” He exhales through his nose. “It said TU Berlin. That’s where you got your PhD.”

After Newt sent Hermann a text about dinner last night, he sat down with a pen and pad of paper and made a list of everything he could remember about Hermann. He started with what Hermann looks like, and who Hermann is, and then moved into the harder stuff like what Hermann likes and the sort of things Hermann used to do. He stayed up all night doing it, until his hand cramped and his head hurt even more than it had that morning, and then recited it over and over to himself in a whisper as he fell asleep. Hermann has brown eyes. Hermann likes blackberry jam on his toast. Hermann wears little glasses on a chain. Hermann uses a cane with a tiny little nick in the brass of the handle. The list is in his pocket now; it makes Newt feel calm, and even calmer when he reaches into his pocket and touches it. He exhales again, hard, and then inhales. “We were together,” he says. “When we closed the Breach, you told me you loved me.”

“I did,” Hermann says, quietly.

“I said it back,” Newt says.

Hermann nods.

Slowly, Newt reaches out and puts his hand over Hermann’s. Hermann makes a strange noise in the back of his throat—like a sigh, or maybe a groan. His pulse twitches erratically under Newt’s fingertips. “I bought chalk,” Newt says.

“You—” Hermann echoes, his voice choked. “You bought chalk?”

“It reminded me of you,” Newt says.

He’s not surprised when Hermann kisses him, but he is surprised at his knee-jerk reaction: to pull away, or push Hermann away, and to order him to get out of his apartment. He’s surprised, because those aren’t his thoughts. He doesn’t want Hermann to leave—he wants Hermann to stay longer, and kiss him more, and help him remember more. “Oh, Newton,” Hermann says. “Newton, Newton—” He moves his mouth to Newt’s neck, kissing, breathing, and whispering his name, and Newt shuts his eyes and forces himself to remember his list.

“Tell me things about you,” Newt begs. “I want to remember you.”

Hermann’s laughter, hesitant and confused, comes out in a puff of hot air against his skin. “Remember me?” he says. “I’m not sure— Are we not a bit—?”

“Hermann,” Newt says.

He grips the back of Hermann’s sweater, digging his nails in Hermann’s skin through the layers of fabric. Hermann must hear the urgency in his voice, because he shakes his head with another laugh, kisses Newt’s jaw, and says, “Well, alright. What am I even meant to tell you?”

“Your favorite color,” Newt says. Hermann kisses his chin. “Your favorite song. No, wait—” He nudges Hermann away from him, just enough so that Hermann can see him smile. “Tell me what you like about me.”

“Feeling rather egotistical tonight, aren’t we?” Hermann teases. He reaches out and brushes his fingers through the side of Newt’s hair. One of the spots Newt dyed—it was too grey. He catches Hermann’s hand by the wrist and pulls it away gently, but only to press himself up against Hermann’s chest instead. He can feel Hermann’s heartbeat. “I like—hm,” Hermann says. “I like your stubbornness. I like your passion. I like…”

His voice vibrates in his throat—Newt can feel that, too. He listens.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #if Alice was a real person her picture would be on Hermann's dartboard #it probably is anyway #Anonymous

56 notes · View notes

writingblock101 · 5 years ago

Text

Hooky (Jason Todd x Reader)

Request for @pickle-todd: Jason + “If we get caught, you can’t speak English and I’m deaf! (I don’t know why it won’t let me tag you)

Word count: 1,600

Tags: @idkmanicantenglish

“You know, I thought I got out of having to go to these galas when I died,” Jason rolls his eyes as you straighten his tie.

“Guess you should’ve stayed dead then,” You quip, tucking his black tie into his jacket.

Jason groans dramatically and Bruce clasps him on the shoulder.

“If you don’t want to go to the galas, then don’t get caught sabotaging the Batmobile radio,” He grins, patting him on the shoulder.

“I can’t believe I took that bet,” Jason grumbles, glaring at Tim.

“I told you not to,” You remind him.

“But I knew he’d be too stubborn not to,” Tim grins viciously. “And now you have to suffer with me.”

“Well, I’d appreciate if next time I don’t get pulled into the crossfire,” You remark, adjusting your shoes which you knew you would be kicking off before the end of the night.

“Sorry, babe,” Jason hooks an arm around your waist and kisses your head. “That’s what you get for dating a dumbass.”

“I should’ve escaped when I could,” You tell Damian.

“Don’t pretend that you weren’t warned,” Damian reminds you.

“I’ll listen next time,” You promise. “But he’s kind of cute, so I’ll keep him for now.”

Damian rolls his eyes.

“He’s not worth it.”

“Hey!” Jason protests.

“We’ve got guest to greet!” Bruce expertly and very subtly defuses the building argument between his second eldest and youngest.

Smart move on his part. Arguments between Jason and Damian rarely end cleanly.

“We’re “fashionably” late,” Tim rolls his eyes. “Why do we have to greet anyone?”

“I don’t understand the reasoning of being purposefully late,” Damian rolls his eyes again.

“Well, you see kiddo, Brucie over here has to play the stupid billionaire and fashionably late is something only dumbass rich people do,” Jason explains with a shit-eating grin.

Bruce narrows his eyes.

“Watch it, or I’ll tell the press you two are engaged.”

Jason narrows his eyes right back.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

You smack Jason’s arm.

“Stop running your mouth and getting me dragged into this crap!”

“Should’ve listened to me,” Damian sing songs in the background.

“You’ve been hanging around Dick too much,” You groan, recognizing Dick’s sing-songy tone that Damian seemed to have picked up.

“At least I haven��t chosen to spend time with Todd.”

“Listen you little shit--” Jason starts.

“Alright, let’s go!” Another brilliant situation diffusion by Bruce.

To his credit, it does work because when he pushes open the doors to the large ballroom, multiple people’s attentions turn to the Wayne family and co. While Bruce and Tim begin mingling with various business partners, you and Jason slip away from the crowd. Jason snags two flutes of champagne off a nearby waiter and hands you a glass.

“You look beautiful tonight,” He compliments, clicking your glass.

“Thank you,” You smile, taking a sip. “You look very handsome.”

Jason smiles at you and opens his mouth to say something else, but he’s cut off by a shriek.

“Jason!” An old cougar who’s always had the hots for Jason, especially after his major growth spurt with his return to the land of the living bustles toward you two. “Is that you?”

Jason groans and tosses back the whole flute in one shot.

“Come on, babe,” You hook your arm in his. “Let’s go be sociable.”

He groans again but puts on a charming smile.

“Mrs. Young, it’s lovely to see you again.”

“Oh please,” Mrs. Young waves him off. “I’ve told you, call me Melany.”

“Right,” Jason smiles tightly. “Melany, I’m sure you remember my girlfriend,” Jason gestures to you.

Melany narrows her eyes at you for a moment.

“Oh, yes of course, um... “ She pauses, seeming to not remember your name.

You’re not sure if she truly doesn’t remember your name, or if she’s attempting to make you feel insignificant. If so, she doesn’t succeed.

“Y/N,” You remind her with a sickly sweet smile. “It’s lovely to see you again.”

“Of course!” Melany lightly taps her head. “I’m sorry, the common names slip my mind, dear!”

“It’s quite alright,” You internally roll your eyes, knowing fully well she wouldn’t forget Jason’s name despite his name being more common than yours.

“Jason, give me a hug!” She demands. “I haven’t seen you in months.”

“Ah, yes, of course,” Jason says reluctantly, but releases your arm and allows Melany to pull him forward harshly.

Your eyebrows shoot up when you notice her hand starting to drift downward, but luckily Jason breaks away quickly.

“Come on, boy, let’s see if your dancing skills have improved,” Melany insists, dragging Jason to the dance floor.

He helplessly looks over at you with panic in his eyes, but you can’t do much more than a shrug. Unfortunately, Jason is very well versed in how to deal with Melany Young, but that doesn’t make the experience any more pleasant.

“Excuse me,” You turn to see a gentleman roughly Bruce’s age smiling at you, a little more predatory than you would like. “Can I bother you for a dance?”

You suppose this is karma.

“Of course!” You insist with a fake smile.

As predicted, the man who introduced himself as Justin, was handsy. Multiple times you had to yank his hands up to keep them from slipping down to your ass. Unfortunately for you, Justin wasn’t the only man trying to cop a feel on the dance floor tonight. Once the song was over, another man sweeps in to dance then another man after that. After the third song, you see another man moving to speak to you when someone clears their throat behind you. Thankfully, you turn to see Jason looking a bit pissed off. He seems to have noticed your struggle with wandering hands tonight.

“Bill,” He greets tightly. “Mind if I take my girlfriend back?”

“By all means,” Bill gestures.

Jason sighs but takes one of your hands, the other resting on your hip. You place your free hand on his shoulder, grateful to be dancing with your boyfriend and not another creepy man.

“Bruce is lucky this is a charity ball because if I saw one more hand slide down your back, someone would be going home in an ambulance,” Jason growls to you.

You smile, pressing a kiss to Jason’s jaw.

“Good thing I have Red Hood to scare them off.”

“I should’ve broken their hands.”

“It would’ve been satisfying,” You admit. “But way more trouble than it’s worth.”

Jason looks down at you.

“Not to me, it wouldn’t. You’re worth that and more.”

“You see, that would be really cute if you weren’t talking about literally breaking people’s hands.”

Jason laughs, pulling you close for a moment to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Come on, I’m tired of being groped by old horny women, let’s go get some real food.”

“Gotta love the casual sexual assault that comes with rich people,” You roll eyes. “But we can’t just leave. Bruce is going to notice we’re gone.”

“Oh trust me,” Jason glances over at Bruce, surrounded by women. “He won’t notice a thing.”

“You know, if he was actually Brucie Wayne, I’d believe you,” You admit. “But he’s not. He’s going to notice.”

“Well, it looks like we’ll have to be sneaky,” Jason grins with a quick kiss. “Come on,” He takes your hand, leading you to the back of the ballroom.

You both watch Bruce carefully and wait until his back is fully turned then dart for the door. You can’t help but giggle as you two jog down the long elegant hallway toward the kitchen.

“No, wait, Jason,” You tug his arm to a stop. “If we go to the kitchen, we’re definitely going to get caught!”

“Don’t worry,” Jason insists. “If we get caught, you can’t speak English and I’m deaf!”

“As great as that plan is, I don’t think that’ll work on your family,” You roll your eyes.

“You underestimate my acting skills,” Jason insists, tugging you toward the kitchen again.

You let him but roll your eyes again.

“I’ve seen your acting skills. They’re nothing to be proud of.”

“Tell that to Melany.”

Okay, he’s got a point.

“Hey, wait a second,” You frown. “Why am I the one who can’t speak English and you’re deaf? Don’t you know five other languages or something?”

“Just make one up!” Jason shrugs.

“What?” You laugh. “That is the dumbest thing I have ever heard!”

“It’ll be a language from a small, little known country! Trust me, it’s foolproof.”

“Yeah, maybe against a five-year-old!”

“Hey! I resent that!”

“Master Jason, Ms. Y/N,” A voice interrupts from behind you.

You both freeze but slowly turn around, looking a little guilty, to see Alfred watching you with an amused smile.

“The gala is not in the kitchen, perhaps you got lost?” He offers.

You smile awkwardly while Jason pretends to not have heard Alfred, gesturing to his ears with a confused expression. You close your eyes for a moment to resist the urge to face palm. He’s really going for it.

Alfred raises an eyebrow at Jason’s antics and you bite your tongue to keep from laughing. He signs something, which you will admit that it’s impressive that Jason actually knows any sign language. Alfred chuckles with a fond smile.

“I recall Master Bruce often creating elaborate plans to sneak out of these galas as a young boy, although, I do advise you next time to have a better plan,” Then Alfred turns his back and wanders down the hall.

Jason grins and takes your hand again.

“Thanks, Alfie!”

“You’re ridiculous,” You laugh as you two continue down the hall away from the gala.

“I told you, foolproof!”

“No, it absolutely was not!”

“I totally sold that with my amazing acting,” Jason insists.

You roll your eyes.

“Okay, babe. Whatever you say.”

Jason grins, kissing your head.

“So, where do we want to go first with our new found freedom?”

“I could go for a Frosty.”

“Wendy’s it is!”

Alfred needs a raise for putting up with all these fools.

#jason todd #red hood #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd headcanon #red hood headcanons #tim drake #damian wayne #bruce wayne #brucie wayne #batman #dc #request #protective! jason

1K notes · View notes

terrortalesv · 4 years ago

Text

Starting a family

@tr85n asked for prompt #99 from that list, with Pam/Benson.

Human AU where Stella is the bio child of both of them.

Pam chews on a pen absently as she wanders into the breakroom to join her coworkers, who had already started their lunch break about ten minutes prior. Instantly, the smell of tuna and mayo hits her nose and makes her gag.

She steps out again and runs to the bathroom to splash some water on her face. Leaning against the washbasin for a few seconds, she waits to see if the feeling will pass or get worse, sighing with relief when it goes away. Weird. What is going on lately? she thinks.

Pam looks at herself in the mirror again and leaves the bathroom.

When she returns, her colleagues welcome her back with strange stares. Fortunately, they are all no longer eating, so the food, including the dreaded tuna, is gone, though she swears some vague smells still linger. She tries to ignore it, and sits down.

“Uhh, yes?” Pam looks around at the group while she takes her salad from the fridge beside her.

“Pam? Is everything okay? You seem a little… off today,” Stefan takes the seat right next to her. His tone is sincere, maybe even a little worried, the giggle as he snatches a piece of tomato from her bowl decidedly less so. Pam tosses a glare his way.

She shoves a forkful of leaves into her mouth before speaking, “I don’t know, it’s really weird.” And then she rattles off the various things she’s been dealing with as of late. She describes the mood swings, the fatigue, the constant hunger, the nausea.

By the end of her spiel, Stefan and her other closest coworker, Tobias, are giving each other a strange look, as if they’re in on a secret, a piece of the puzzle that they want to reveal but aren’t exactly allowed to.

“Ohhh. I know what’s going on here,” Tobias says smugly. The other man chuckles.

Pam looks at him and puts more salad in her mouth, not bothering to ask him to elaborate. She knows he will regardless.

“Obviously somebody’s pregnant,” Tobias leans over the table, close to her face, and says in a loud whisper.

“Ooooooohhh! Uh-oh!” Stefan teases.

Pam’s eyes widen and she almost chokes on some cracked pepper. After a few brief seconds, she comes to her senses.

“Uh, no, I don’t think so. It’s probably just that bug that’s been going around,” she tells them, and continues eating.

“Actually, yeah, maybe it is,” one of their older colleagues chimes in as he gets up to leave the breakroom.

“Psh, yeah. Whatever you say,” Tobias teases. He rolls his eyes and then he and his friend exit the room to go back to work, leaving Pam alone.

She sighs into her salad bowl and stabs at the remaining leaves with her fork. “Pregnant? Yeah, really funny, guys. No way,” she laughs to herself, but those strange symptoms linger in the back of her mind and she begins to have doubts.

No, but we haven’t even been trying. Besides, I’m way past that age anyway, right? Obviously it’s just a coincidence and they were messing with me. Yeah. You’re not pregnant, Pam, stop thinking about that.

She doesn’t stop thinking about it. She spends most of the next few hours thinking about it, convincing herself she’s not pregnant, that that was just a stupid joke those guys were telling, and then doubting herself.

She continues like this for a while, until she steps into one room to check on the equipment and sees something that catches her eye. She remembers their boss telling them about this thing, a super new, super high-tech machine that allows the user to see inside anything. She remembers her telling them about how this device was not only better than a standard x-ray machine, but safer.

Pam thinks for a moment. I mean, I already know I’m not pregnant. But what’s the harm in just having a little look-see, right?

She checks to see if there’s anyone watching her and closes the blinds just in case someone might walk by. Breathing a sigh, Pam presses some buttons on the device, listens as it whirs to life, and steps behind it.

She has to wait a few minutes before an image appears on the whiteboard to her right. All the usual things are there, nothing seems amiss. That is, until she shifts her eyes to her lower belly area, where a tiny, strange shape sits.

Her heart sinks and the nausea returns with a vengeance. She looks away from the screen, breathing heavily. Whatever it is, upon first glance it looks unlike anything that would ordinarily be inside a healthy human body. Pam swallows, although the dryness in her mouth doesn’t so easily allow it.

What is that? Some kind of weird mass in my stomach. Oh, no. It can’t be. Is this how I’m going to die? I should’ve caught this so much sooner, it’s probably way too late to deal with it now. But maybe I should book in with a doctor anyway, see if they can—

She shakes her head. Slowly she comes to her senses, though her heart rate and breathing take longer to return to normal.

“It’s okay, Pam. You’re not dying. At least not yet. Let’s just take a better look at this thing and then make our assumptions,” she tells herself.

She cautiously cranes her neck to look at the board again and takes more notice of the shape. One part of it is much larger, and the other has four small… things sticking out from it. She swears she sees a tiny human in that shape, as strange as it sounds, with the big head and teeny-tiny limbs. Wait.

Hand over face, Pam slowly steps away from the machine and turns it off. The picture is still projected on the wall. She stares wordlessly, eyes wide, hands slipping down to her belly. She’s unsure if she should be concerned or happy.

A million thoughts race through her mind at once, not daring to leave her alone for even a second, as much as she tries to ignore them. She wanders the halls of the vast laboratory, pretending to work whenever someone else is nearby, but spends the remainder of the work day too distracted to actually do anything.

How am I going to tell Benson? How is he going to react? Does he even want to be a dad? He seems perfectly content with just the pets. And what about me? Am I even cut out to be a mom? The animals are kind of a handful already, how are we possibly going to deal with a kid?

When Pam arrives home, she walks past the throng of cats that greet her at the door, enters their bedroom and flops down on the bed, exhausted.

She tells herself she’s only going to lie down for an hour, but wakes up several hours later to the sound of her husband setting the table for dinner. Groggily, she gets up and stumbles out to the kitchen.

Benson’s head snaps up at the sound of her footsteps and he smiles at her. She loves that smile, so much so that it causes all her worries to fade away. But not for very long.

“Hey! Sleep well?” He puts an arm around her and kisses her on the cheek.

“Yeah,” Pam offers him a tired smile and sits down at her usual chair. Benson quickly follows, tucking her chair in for her and then sitting down himself. He scoops up some pesto linguine and plops it onto both of their plates, then grabs a piece of garlic bread and takes a bite out of it. Pam tries her best to eat as much as she can, but her mind is still elsewhere. Benson notices.

“Pam, honey? You okay? You don’t look like yourself tonight,” Benson reaches a hand across the table to grab hers and gently caresses the back of her hand with his thumb.

“Um, oh, I…” she sighs, turning her hand over to give his a squeeze, “can I tell you something?” Her heart races and she sips from a glass of water in an attempt to ease her dry mouth. Now’s as good a time as any, I suppose. Who knows, maybe putting it out there and telling him will help calm my nerves.

“Yeah, of course,” her husband looks her in the eye with a smile, voice as calm and comforting as he can possibly make it. He takes another bite of bread.

“I…” she has to clear her throat, “I’m pregnant.”

Pam watches Benson’s face. He takes a moment to process her words, then his expression goes blank and he coughs up some crumbs. A strange combination of concern and surprise paints his pale, bearded face. Slowly, a large grin appears and the tips of his ears turn pink. Pam swears she’s never seen him look so in love.

“Oh, my god… Are you for real? We’re gonna be parents? I’m gonna be a dad?” Benson whispers, almost a squeal.

“Benson? You okay?”

He wipes that tear from his eye before answering, “Yeah! Yeah, I’m great.” He gets up from his chair, seemingly completely forgetting about the food on his plate, and kneels in front of her. He gently wraps his arms around her and presses his fleshy, weathered cheek against her belly.

“We’re having a bay-bee,” he says, in a high-pitched, sing-song voice that Pam has never heard before, even after all these years.

Later that night, as they’re lying in bed facing each other, Benson gives Pam a kiss on the nose and whispers, “I’m so excited.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

‘I know, you keep saying that,” she giggles.

“Well, I can’t help it. We’re having a baby. Together. Don’t you think that’s… the best?” He moves some hair out of her eye with a finger.

Pam can only respond with a tired “mm-hmm” as she closes her eyes. Benson carefully presses a cold, calloused hand to her belly and she shivers.

“Sorry,” he tilts his head toward where his hand is sitting, “we’re so excited to meet you, baby.”

“You know it can’t hear yet, dad.”

“Dad…” just from the tone of his voice, Pam can tell Benson likes the sound of that.

#regular show #pam #benson #mywriting

16 notes · View notes

rpmemesbyarat · 4 years ago

Conversation

RP meme from Scream Queens Ep 10 "Thanksgiving"

Listen. I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but I don't think I can bone you right now.

My wanger is way stressed out.

I've killed for our love.

I just gave her a little push.

You and I can pick up right where we left off.

You can bring me home for Thanksgiving and introduce me to my future in-laws.

What did you do with the body?

I put it in the meat locker. It's where we've been putting all the dead bodies.

I need to see the body.

Look, we can have a three-way with the body.

I'll show you the body, but not so you can have sex with it.

I'll show it to you so that you and I will share a dangerous secret that will strengthen our relationship and bring us closer together.

I don't understand how this keeps happening!

Is this meat locker, like, a wormhole to an alternate universe or something?

She'll probably stop at nothing until she gets her revenge by murdering you.

No one wants to spend a room service Thanksgiving alone.

Are you going to talk at all?

You shouldn't be mad at me.

We're the sane ones.

Now, I know you've got other plans today, and for alibi's sake we need to protect your cover, but I am not letting you leave on an empty stomach.

Is that what quail is? I thought they were bigger.

You know what I was picturing? Pheasant.

Time to slice off those breasts.

I feel like this holiday is all about family, and, well, as you know, I gave up on my real family a long time ago.

I mean, at this point, the closest thing I have to family is. . . you.

I understand that Thanksgiving is supposed to be about family and being together and thanking God that we were born rich in America and not in Uganda or Venezuela or any of those other African countries.

You're late. The game's just about to start.

What do you think would happen if those instructions were incorrect?

This family's fortune is built on being right on time.

There's nothing better than sitting together as a family, watching the game. Laughing, smiling, just enjoying the warmth of each other's company. That's what it's all about today. Togetherness.

I hate defrosted food.

Why is it called Italian Style Chicken Cacciatore? All chicken cacciatore is Italian style.

This is not what Thanksgiving is supposed to be.

A bunch of my sort-of friends have been killed and no one has asked me about it.

Oh. And I'm starting a new family tradition. It involves me never coming to any family occasions ever again.

Would you stop with the screaming?

It's more like a stay of execution until no one is looking.

I've never cooked before, but that should be fine, since I usually just pretend to eat.

Well, I can cook and eat for the both of us.

So we've decided to have an orphans Thanksgiving all together.

I mean, I guess you could come over here if you wanted.

And this year I'm so thankful for the lax indecency laws in Eastern Europe that inundate our Internet with millions of hours of hard-core porn.

You know, ever since I was a little boy, I knew what God wanted me to do and that was make money off the backs of creative people.

I am so thankful that he, for whatever reason, has not murdered me yet.

You have such a vast future ahead of you.

You'll meet so many new and different women. So many wonderful women to go out with and break up with and move on from.

You should be thankful that this table is too long for me to reach across and strangle you, bitch!

What are you doing here? How are you alive?

When I woke up and regained consciousness, I felt better than ever.

The only thing you're carrying is water weight, you bloated little tramp.

I have a little game to play that's gonna make the time fly right by.

No, I've never killed anyone as far as I know.

Okay, there is no evidence at all that mass murder is genetic.

I would say that is more than a little suspicious.

I have bathroom shame issues. I always wait until everyone is asleep and then I sneak down to poop in the little powder room downstairs.

I mean, don't we all agree that those babies are the killers?

That seems like an unnecessarily complicated cover story.

I think we have plenty here to go to the police.

What, are you drunk?

You know, the one time I call you for a little advice, you're hammered.

I suppose we should discuss the matter of payment.

I'm asking you to name your price.

Are you propositioning me?

No, I'm asking how much money it'll take to make you go away.

My family is super-gross rich.

That outfit screams desperation.

I am, however, willing to write you a check for $50,000 if you will leave now and never come back.

It's a lot of money for a family like yours.

What is the best part about Thanksgiving?

Tastes like Henry VIII just barfed in my mouth.

Well, I don't want to sound like a dick here, but have you ever considered maybe you should leave?

I brought some of my famous eight-meat stuffing. It's beef, venison, alligator, buffalo, rabbit, goat, rattlesnake and Spam. I cut all of the meats super thin, so that you're guaranteed every meat in every bite.

I thought you said you were leaving forever or something like that?

Have you ever even cracked open a book?

You did say just the other day that the only way to live is to play the long game.

I really hope you can come up with something better than that.

I can prove that you're the only person in this room we know for a fact is a murderer.

I saw you in the coffee shop the other day, reading one of your old Playgirl magazines.

Okay, look, there's just some stuff that doesn't add up.

Look, I've gone through all the suspects in my mind, and I can explain away all my suspicions for everyone except you.

Can we just talk this out, so you can help me see that I'm wrong?

I mean, it would fit in with your whole hard worker, let's find out the truth, never take no for an answer, awful personality.

Anything to redeem your beloved dead mother.

I can't rest when the killer's still out there, so I stayed behind to do some more research.

You're skinny and pretty, so that's a plus, but it's highly competitive, so you'd better be rich, too.

You know how at the beginning of the year, I was always secretly following you so I could just keep an eye on you, make sure you were safe?

I heard you talking to someone, but I couldn't hear what it was about.

Thank you for letting me talk about this, talk this out, and hear your side of the story.

Um, homely, ugly.

Gold digger! Not welcome.

No, no, too chunky to wear that outfit.

I'm fairly certain this board game's been tampered with.

And while my motivations were airtight and my conscience clear, still, I'm sorry.

I mean, no one deserves to be spoken to like that, particularly not by what is, without a doubt, the most awful family in America.

I've honestly seen more tasteful decor at a Sizzler.

And you, sir, give the kind, hard-working, deeply moral people who work in such a wonderful industry as Hollywood a bad name.

I am walking out that door and never speaking to you again.

How could such a stud evolve from a boy who was so clearly a douche?

Oh, please, look, I-I was so bombed at that party. I mean, I remember I puked while I was making out with some girl, but there is no way that I could've found my way back down there 20 minutes later, let alone 20 years.

This is really embarrassing, um, but I started the paleo diet, because I'm back on the dating scene now, and I-I wanted to lose some weight.

I never saw a body down there.

I-I was a bit of a man slut back in the day, and it was the '90s, so nobody wore condoms.

I'm obligated to take it to the police.

What are you gonna do with the money?

didn't take the money, idiot.

Okay, first of all, I experienced extreme emotional trauma this evening, and second, I'm the one delegating tasks, thank you very much.

I couldn't find any matches.

I was sharpening this knife.

You haven't eaten yet, have you? I knew it!

You've come back. You've chosen me over your awful family.

First of all, my family is awesome. How dare you?

So, without further ado, dinner is served.

#rp meme #rp memes #rp starters #roleplay meme #roleplay starters #roleplay memes #scream queens

16 notes · View notes

seanfalco · 4 years ago

Text

Date Night Part 2 | Misfits Timeline Anomaly’verse

a/n: More of the collab with @super-unpredictable98 featuring our girls: Win & Lydia 💚 We split this one up into two parts, just in time for Thirsty Thursday.

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: smut (orgy), language

Read Part One Here

——

Suddenly the timer went off in the kitchen and Win nearly jumped up to go get it before her Nathan wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, holding her in place.

“I think it’s the hostess’s job to get the food.”

Lydia slowly uncrossed her legs and got up, strutting towards the kitchen provocatively. She came back a second later and placed the tray on the coffee table.

Finally able to get her little revenge, she dropped to her knees and leaned over the table, letting her cleavage show even more while slicing the pizza.

"Dig in," she smiled innocently at the trio.

Win and her Nathan took a slice, Nathan nearly burning his mouth in his haste while Win blew lightly on hers before taking a bite and moaning softly.

“Oh Lyds, this is so good,” she purred, pulling a long string of cheese off with her fingers to place in her mouth.

Lyddie's Nathan took a second to snap out of his trance and start eating as well while Lydia joined the others on the couch, trying not to stare at Win.

"I'm glad you like it," she said, taking a bite. For a second she forgot the built-up desire and felt legitimately happy with the praise.

“Mhmm, maybe you’ll hafta teach me how to make more stuff, since I’m pretty hopeless in the kitchen,” Win murmured, finishing off her piece.

"Yeah, I can do that..." Lyddie looked away, knowing one look from her was enough to send shivers through her spine.

“Oh, thank goodness, even if th’only thing y’learn t’make is this, I’ll be happy,” Win’s Nathan exclaimed, picking up a fresh slice and flopping back on the couch.

“Oh, I’m sure there are loads of things we could teach each other,” Win said, licking her fingers clean.

"Yeah, there are a few things I could teach ya," Lyddie's Nathan started with a shit-eating smirk. "I reckon you'll love t'know that..."

"SHUT UP!" Lydia exclaimed suddenly, covering his mouth. "You don't need to make things worse."

“Hey now, let th’man speak,” Win said with a laugh, leaning again Lyddie’s Nathan’s shoulder. “I’m sure you could fill me in on a lot of helpful tips.”

“Somehow I don’t think we’re talkin’ bout cookin’ anymore,” the other Nathan grumbled.

"Right!" Lyddie looked at him "I have a lot of recipes, I could totally..."

"You have no idea," Lyddie's Nathan chuckled. "The steps might be tricky, but the results are certainly worth it."

Win smiled, half listening to the Nathan next to her as she realized for the moment, they were all getting along and it made her smile.

Lydia's rant about food in a desperate attempt to stop her Nathan from talking was cut short when she caught Win's smile.

I guess we're really becoming a couple... Or better said, a quad, Lydia thought to herself.

“So,” Win murmured, leaning in closer to Lyddie’s Nathan, unconsciously resting her hand on his thigh. “You gunna let me in on one of Lyddie’s secrets?”

"Lyds 101, the basics..." he whispered mischievously. "First thing y'need t'know is she likes when I'm crude, it gets her off, do with that what you will..."

“Crude, right, got it. Like, dirty talk, or—?”

"Yeah, but y'know... Inappropriate comments, shit that most people would find obnoxious or-or gross, she loves it.”

“Okay, that explains a lot actually,” Win said with a laugh, finally realizing how close she’d gotten to Lyddie’s Nathan and quickly cleared her throat, making to move away.

Lydia was only half aware of the conversation happening next to her, as she was distracted talking to Win's Nathan about her movie collection. She was enjoying his company. After all, he was a clone of her fiancé.

"There's a thing..." Lyddie's Nathan swallowed nervously when he noticed Win's hand on his thigh. "But she's gotta tell you herself, she'd kill me if I did."

“Not even a hint?” she pouted, batting her eyelashes at him

"Um..." Nathan mused for a second, definitely smitten with Win's charms. "If y'look in the fridge there's a hint, but if she finds out I told ya..."

Win scrunched up her face in thought, thinking of anything you kept in the fridge that could turn someone on.

“Well, thanks anyways,” she murmured with a sigh. For a moment Nathan thought she was gonna pull away, when suddenly she pressed her lips to his cheek.

Meanwhile, Win’s Nathan was gaping at Lydia’s future movie collection. “That’s so cool. I wonder what th’porn’s like in th’future,” he mused with a soft snort, glancing over at her.

"In the future girls make their own porn and sell it, it's this thing called Only Fans, I think it's pretty cool," Lydia chuckled, tempted to run her fingers through his hair. "I wanted to make one for extra cash, but I'm a little shy..."

Nathan’s eyes widened slightly, his mouth going dry.

“You totally should! I mean... if you wanted to,” he exclaimed. “Sometimes Win and I make our own home videos, maybe she could... I dunno, help yeh with that.”

"It only comes out in six years, but it wouldn’t hurt to practice... I’d love to watch one of these videos," Lydia mused, finally gathering the nerve to bury her fingers in his hair.

Nathan froze, his brows shooting up. “I-I mean... as long as Win’s okay with it, although what am I sayin’? For you, she’d def—“ his words cut off as he leaned in suddenly, taking Lydia and himself by surprise as he kissed her.

Lyddie's heart jumped in her chest. She kissed him back, this time knowing it wasn't her Nathan, but past caring about that.

"Don't say anything," she murmured, discreetly grinding against his thigh, trying to get some relief after the endless teasing.

Lyddie's Nathan was ready to interrupt them, but instead, he pulled Win closer and did the same, pressing his lips to hers.

"Oh!" Win gasped against his mouth, tensing at the suddenness, but her gasp quickly melted to a soft moan and she clutched at Lyddie's Nathan's shirt throwing her leg over his hips, and settling in his lap.

This was certainly not what she had envisioned earlier as she'd teased Lydia in the kitchen, but she wasn't complaining, having started to get rather pent up herself from teasing her new girlfriend.

Lydia rolled her hips more eagerly, a breathy moan leaving her lips in between kisses.

"Hmm," she noticed his bulge and bit her lip while looking up at the familiar face in front of her that somehow felt completely different. "Dinner is over, isn't it? I think that means I won..."

"Won what?" Win's Nathan asked, groaning, his eyes flicking to his girlfriend and the other Nathan going at it on the couch.

"Win challenged me. If I could stand her teasing until dinner was over, I win a special prize..." Lyddie explained while kissing Nathan's neck, rubbing herself against his bulge. "I did, so now I want my prize."

Win pulled back though Lyddie's Nathan chased her retreating lips. "You did resist, didn't you," she mused, moaning as Nathan didn't let her get far, nipping at her neck. "I suppose I could give you your prize now babe, but I wonder what our boys will do while we're indisposed..."

Lyddie's Nathan had never felt so confused, he wanted to keep snogging Win, but he also wanted to see her making Lyds scream.

"I wonder if they would rather watch, or help you..." Lydia ran her fingers teasingly over Win's Nathan's erection. "What do you wanna do, Natty?"

"Ohhhh, fuck," he groaned, glancing from her to Win and back. "I wanna help. I'm so good at helpin'."

At his words Win laughed, her breath hitching as she accidentally ground against the Nathan underneath her, feeling how aroused he was as well.

"And what about you?" she murmured, whining softly as she rolled her hips again, this time on purpose.

"I can't miss out on the fun... 'Course I wanna help," Lyddie's Nathan drawled. "You've been such a good girl, you deserve t'be spoiled a bit, Lollipop.”

"Great," Lydia exclaimed, getting up and looking back before heading to the room. "Which one of you is gonna help me get out of this dress? Or should I do it myself?"

Win quickly leapt from Lyddie's Nathan's lap to follow her. "Don't you dare touch that zipper," she exclaimed, taking Lydia's hand and pulling her to the bedroom, "I wanna be th'one to undress you."

Both Nathans gaped at each other for a moment before scrambling up to follow the girls.

"Anything you say, baby," Lydia sat down with a smirk, imagining what Win had in mind.

The two Nathans stared at them, not knowing exactly what to do, until Lyddie's Nathan climbed on the bed behind her, kissing her shoulders and the exposed portion of her back.

Win grasped the zipper of her dress and slowly eased it down as Nathan continued to kiss her, Win's hands slipping under the fabric as she reached around her front, groping her tits as she lifted her chin to catch her own Nathan's gaze over Lydia's shoulder, drawing him to the bed with her eyes.

"I think this has got t'be the hottest thing I've ever seen," he murmured, leaning in to kiss Win as he rested his hand on Lydia's thigh.

"Y'can be rougher with her, Win," Lyddie's Nathan laughed, reaching for her other thigh. "She likes it, don't you, Lollipop?"

Win threw him a disdainful look for a moment before yanking Lydia’s dress down, pinching her nipples and playing roughly with her piercings.

"Oh, Winnie!" Lydia hissed, parting her legs and leaning against her Nathan, her hand stroking Win's hair softly. "Just like that..."

“Mmm, I like hearing you moan my name like that,” Win purred in her ear. “Can you stand up for me, so we can get this dress off you?”

Lydia obediently stood up, letting the dress slide off her body. "Do you get naked as well?" she asked with a cheeky grin.

“Do you want us to?” Win asked, admiring Lyddie, arousal pooling between her legs at the thought of all of them getting naked together.

"Yes, I wanna feel you, all of you," Lydia murmured, pulling her in for a kiss, squeezing her ass firmly. "I don't think I've ever been so horny in my life.”

“God, that’s so hot,” Win murmured. “Are you gunna undress me? Or should I—?” she asked, lifting her shirt teasingly.

"It's my prize, I should unwrap it..." Lydia quickly ripped the other woman's shirt off before pulling her in again, this time onto her lap, as she sat back down.

The Nathans exchanged a quick awkward look before starting to undress, cautiously keeping a safe distance from one another.

“Damn, Lyddie,” Win gasped. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen this side of you before.”

"I'm burning up, it's been so hard to resist you..." she nearly growled. "I want you so bad."

“Me too, fuck,” Win groaned. “I wanna have my dessert now,” she moaned, kissing Lydia roughly while the two Nathan’s watched, swallowing thickly, awkwardly trying not to look at each other, while still slightly curious to see if they were bigger than the other.

Lydia couldn't resist the curiosity and glanced over at the boys. Yep... two exact copies in every aspect.

"Come and get it," she said, laying down. "Do whatever you want to me, I'm yours."

“Nathan...” Win drawled, turning behind her to look at both of them, her eyes flicking down and back up, feeling their eyes on her. Even without any identifying features to physically tell them apart, she knew exactly which Nathan was hers just with the way he looked at her.

“Are you gunna come help me?” she asked, trailing her hands down her body before reaching down to touch Lyddie, suddenly feeling a spike of nerves as both Nathans approached, hers settling next to her, his hands finding her body and she shuddered.

"You come here." Lydia brought her Nathan close, their lips crashing as she squirmed under Win's touch and she quickly reached down to stroke his length. She was a little intimidated being naked in front of so many people at the same time, but it felt so good, she had no time to think too much about it.

Leaning over her, Win kissed Lyddie’s neck, taking Nathan’s advice and not being gentle, this time leaving a trail of dark hickeys along her neck and down her chest. Pausing to take one of Lydia’s pierced nipples in her mouth her own Nathan fondled her breasts from behind, his arms wrapping around her, drawing a moan from her.

“Babe, you should get your tits pierced,” he murmured, unable to tear his eyes from the scene in front of him. “That’d be so hot.”

"I think so too," Lydia giggled. The sharp pain that Win's relentless mouth left behind quickly turning into pleasure.

Lyddie's Nathan also had his eyes glued to the action as her hand worked his cock. "Fuck, Lollipop," he hissed, his breath catching in his throat as she picked up her pace. "You feel good? Is that what you wanted?"

"Uhum," she moaned, overwhelmed with desire.

“Just you wait, babygirl, cuz it’s gunna get a whole lot better,” Win said, parting her thighs and settling between them, already feeling her own arousal dripping down her leg and coating her skin, her own cunt aching as she lightly blew on Lyddie’s glistening sex.

Moaning softly, she parted Lydia’s folds to run the tip of her tongue along her slit to her clit, moaning louder at the taste of her, her fingers digging into the other woman’s thighs.

“Holy shit,” Win’s Nathan whispered, his voice hoarse. “That’s right Win baby, I bet she tastes so good.”

As he egged her on, his hand slid over her backside, giving her ass a firm slap and Win moaned into Lydia’s pussy before Nathan’s hand moved farther down, his fingers delving his girlfriend’s folds.

Lyddie gasped as a jolt of pleasure struck her. Win's mouth felt even better than she remembered, her skilled tongue was like heaven after such a long, torturous wait. "Oh, please," she arched her back, looking down to watch as Win's Nathan fingered her, wanting to see her feeling just as good.

"So sensitive, aren'tcha?" Lydia's Nathan moved to kiss his fiancé's neck and squeeze her tits before taking her nipple between his plump lips.

Trying to concentrate with Nathan’s fingers moving in and out of her, Win lapped desperately at Lydia, the other woman’s sweet sounds only serving to turn her on more.

“Win,” her Nathan groaned, his fingers slowing and she lifted her face to look back at him. “I’m dyin’ here,” he whined and a slow grin spread across her face as she wriggled her ass at him.

“Go ahead,” she purred, pausing to bite her lip before resuming her exploration of Lyddie’s pussy with her tongue, but as soon as she felt the tip of Nathan’s cock brush her entrance she shuddered, arching her back as he slowly slid into her, her tongue freezing for a moment as she inhaled sharply while Nathan’s hips snapped into her backside, rocking her forward slightly, pressing her face harder into Lydia’s cunt.

Lyddie nearly came just from the sight of Nathan fucking Win from behind. She looked up at her own Nathan and raised her eyebrows as if asking ‘do you want it too?’ to which he enthusiastically nodded.

"Fuck my face, Natty," she begged through her helpless moaning.

Her Nathan quickly jumped off the bed and positioned himself so she could turn her head and take his cock in her mouth.

"Jesus..." he groaned, mirroring his clone's reaction almost identically, as Lydia hummed, swallowing every inch of him. "Good girl, you're so good t'me."

Win could feel Lydia getting wetter as she lapped at her, made slightly more difficult with her Nathan pounding into her from behind and she had to brace herself with one hand, pressing into the mattress to the side of Lyddie’s hip while her other hand continued spreading her lips.

The lewd slap of skin on skin nearly drowned out the chorus of moans and the wet sounds of Win’s tongue and Lyddie’s Nathan fucking her mouth.

Feeling her climax nearing with each smooth thrust of her boyfriend’s cock Win moved her tongue desperately against Lyddie’s bundle of nerves, lapping broad forceful strokes despite the ache growing in her jaw. She wanted her to come at the same time she did, if she could.

Lydia tried to concentrate on both giving and receiving pleasure, it was hard, but it also made her feel complete in a way.

She wasn't sure how much longer she could stand before coming, after all the build-up she could've easily orgasmed within a minute or less. Feeling Win's moans against her cunt just drove Lydia even closer to the edge, her eyes slowly tearing up with the overstimulation.

"That's right, baby..." her Nathan moaned, bucking his hips, his fingers tangled in her long hair. "I'm gettin' close, d'you want it in your mouth?" he asked already knowing the answer.

A high-pitched whine echoed in Win’s throat as her orgasm hit her and she tensed as Nathan rut erratically into her, his thrusts growing shallower as he came. But she didn’t stop though tears pricked her eyes until a loud muffled moan ripped from her as Lyddie began to shake beneath her, her hands clutching at Win and she finally stopped, giving her one last lick before collapsing atop her as Nathan buried himself to the hilt one last time with a groan.

Lydia quickly swallowed her Nathan's load as he finished in her mouth, her new enhanced lung capacity proving to be very useful in situations like that.

"God, that was amazing," Lyddie’s Nathan groaned as he let his body relax, laying next to her and placing a soft kiss on her temple.

"That... was quite the prize," Lydia purred, pulling Win into her arms and running one hand over her back.

Win hummed contently, snuggling against Lyddie as the other woman pulled her close. “You deserved it babe,” she murmured, completely relaxed, her eyes fluttering shut until she felt her Nathan crawl atop the bed next to her, fitting himself to her body and pressing a tender kiss to her shoulder.

“I think next time we should spoil you,” he whispered, drawing a tired laugh to her swollen lips.

"That sounds amazing," Lydia sighed. "But I'll mercilessly tease you first, just so you get the full experience."

#misfits #nathan young x oc #nathan young #nathan x win #nathan x lyddie #otp: green apple lollipop #oc: win lewis #oc: lydia bellamy #oc stuff #collaboration #my writing

29 notes · View notes

saltymiraculer · 5 years ago

Text

A Pretty Flower for a Pretty Girl

I’ve stayed up until midnight reading @zoe-oneesama ‘s Scarlet Lady comics a few too many times, so I thought I might as well finally turn my ideas into a fic!

Also, this was too adorable for me not to.

-🌼-

Life just couldn’t give him one day off? Not one?

Apparently not, or else he wouldn’t have to be fighting a giant glob of cafeteria food and compost that insisted on being called “Lunchion”.

You know, Adrien could appreciate the pun if he weren’t covered in banana peels and eggshells, and–was that a hamburger patty? He pinched his nose and extended the baton towards Lunchion’s weak spot, the plastic tray it used as a shield.

You’d think an akuma wouldn’t use their most important object as a deflector, yeah?

Lunchion made a gargling noise and blasted him with another garbage-truck’s worth of compost.

Scarlet Lady–did he forget to mention her?–screeched and jumped backwards, catching herself with the yo-yo she had finally figured out how to use.

“Disgusting! I’m out of here. Call me when you get the akuma!“ she called back to him, swinging away and disappearing in the direction of the Grand Paris. He groaned and pushed himself off of his knees.

“Shtay Awaysh!“ the blob gurgled. “Give me your Miraculoushes!“

“Not a chance, trash can!“ he yelled, jumping just out of shooting range.

“It’sh Lunshion, idiotsh!“

“Yeah, whatever!“

As much as he wished he didn’t, Adrien needed some help. Without Lucky Charm, which he could normally figure out how to use, he didn’t have too much of a plan.

Wait a second…was that a miraculous box?

And so it was, sitting on the ledge of a building. Holy cannoli, he was actually going to have a competent partner for once!

Just who to give it to? He opened the box, and inside was a small comb, in the shape of a bumblebee.

Oh, wait a second.

Which classmate had the adorable, tinkling laugh? Which classmate had the sweet-as-honey smile? Which classmate had he had a crush on since day one?

Ding, ding, ding, it’s Marinette Dupain-Cheng!

“Um, give me a minute!“ he said, jumping as far as he could away from the akuma and running to the bakery. He landed on Marinette’s balcony, nearly knocking over one of her potted plants.

“Eek!“ he squeaked, catching it just before it hit the wood. The last thing he wanted was to destroy her porch.

“Hello?“ Marinette asked, startling him out of the panicked state. “I-is there a reason Chat Noir is standing on my porch, or am I just that lucky?“

“Oh, uhhhh–“ he fumbled the little box out of his pocket, holding it out to her. “–yeah, I need some help, so…“

“No. Freaking. Way. No way, no way, no way! Awesome!“ she cheered, immediately slapping a hand over her mouth. “Sorry.“

“it’s fine. You just transform and let’s go!“

“…how?“

“Dang it.“

Once Marinette had consulted the kwami–after momentarily freezing–she transformed and they looked at each other, nodded, and jumped on building after building, chasing the glob of garbage as it made its way downtown.

“You know, I’ve always hated just sitting around during akuma attacks!“ she said brightly.

“Is that why you get caught up in every single one of them, then?“

“No! I mean, I don’t want to get caught up in them, but it just happens!“

“Sure thing, Marigold. Sure thing.“

“You’re incorrigible, Chat Noir.“ she joked. He chuckled, halting to a stop and sticking out his arm so Marine–Marigold, sorry, wouldn’t fall off the edge of the building.

She slammed into his arm and fell backwards, and fortunately, he caught her.

But, sine life couldn’t even give him five minutes off, they were in the exact same positions as ballroom dancers. And she was blushing.

Dammit, life!

“I’m sorry!“ he said, letting go as fast as he could. Marigold was still looking down, a hint of blush still spread across her cheeks.

“It’s okay,“ she whispered. “It was nice.“

“O-oh. Let’s keep going, yeah?“ he set off again, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. They arrived where the akuma was about to take the top off of a restaurant, swinging their respective weapons defensively.

“Who’sh the bumblebee, pushycat?“

“That’s Marigold to you, Lunchion!“

“Finally! Shomeone getsh the name right!“

They took down the akuma in a matter of minutes, thanks to a well-timed Venom from Marinette and the smart idea to fake a Cataclysm to get Lunchion in weapon range.

“Ugh, now I’ve got to call Scarlet,“ Adrien groaned. Marinette stuck her tongue out and gave him the thumbs-down. He agreed nonverbally.

Scarlet Lady appeared, swinging in from stage right, and landing neatly on the roof ledge parallel from them.

“Ugh, finally. What took you so long? And who’s this?“

Marinette gave him a look that he interpreted as ‘spite Scar as much as possible’. He nodded.

“Marigold’s my new partner! Scar, this is Marigold! Marigold, Scarlet Lady.“

“Let’s hope she’s a good sidekick for my sidekick, so the battles won’t take as long! They’re just exhausting! And that’s Scarlet Lady to you, you mangy cat.“ Out of the corner of his eye, Adrien could see Marinette mocking Scarlet Lady, exaggerating the stuck-out hip and the way she rolled her eyes whenever she could.

He stifled a laugh.

“Look, Scarlet, there’s Nadja Chamack!“ he said, snapping her out of the stupor she was in. She applied a fresh coat of red lipstick and swung off to the ground, casting Lucky Charm and using the Miraculous Cure simultaneously.

-🌼-

“That was good,“ Chat Noir whispered. “but we’ve got something more important to attend to.“

He pointed at a little boy, who couldn’t be more than eight or nine, sitting on the ground on the verge of tears. The walked over to him and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

“Are you alright?“

“N-no!“

“What happened?“ Chat Noir asked gently, landing on his other side.

“My brother got really sick–because of the cafeteria food–and he’s in the hospital, and I’m really scared he’s not going to be okay!“ Marinette exchanged a worried look with Chat Noir.

“Hey, it’ll be okay! The people at the hospital will help your brother, all right? He’s going to be just fine.“

The little boy sniffled. “Th-thank you, Chat Noir and Bee Lady.” She smiled and patted his arm.

“I’m Marigold, okay? Remember that.“

“I will, Miss Marigold.“

“Good,“ Chat Noir interjected. “But we’ve got to get you back to your family. I’m sure they’re worried about you.“

A lady who they assumed was his mom ran up and hugged hum, telling the little boy it would be all right.

-🌼-

“And that’s why I’m the true hero! See, even you can–“ Scarlet Lady was saying. Nadja cut her off with a shhh noise.

“Hey, it’ll be okay! The people at the hospital will help your brother, all right? He’s going to be just fine.“ a yellow-and-black striped hero said, comforting a little boy.

The little boy sniffled wetly. “Th-thank you, Chat Noir and Bee Lady.” She grinned and patted his arm.

“I’m Marigold, okay? Remember that.“

“I will, Miss Marigold.“ Nadja chuckled at the little boy.

“Good,“ Chat Noir said. “But we’ve got to get you back to your family. I’m sure they’re worried about you.“

She walked up and tapped Marigold’s shoulder.

“Excuse me, but can I get an interview?“ She looked at Chat Noir hopefully. He nodded and smiled, grabbing Marigold’s hand and pulling her next to him.

The cameras swiveled towards them.

“But first, has anyone met my amazing new partner?“ Nadja could hear Scarlet grinding her teeth loudly behind them, but paid that no attention.

After a few questions and some cooing over the two heroes’ banter, their miraculouses beeped and they both looked very startled.

“Sorry to disappoint, but we’ve got to run!“ Marigold said, yanking Chat Noir’s arm urgently.

“If the lady insists! Next time, Nadja!“

“Um…goodbye!“ she called after them, watching the duo swing off into the sunset.

-🌼-

They landed in front of the rosebushes of Dupont, each of which was covered in pretty blossoms.

They bumped into each other as they landed, stumbling back, leaving them about an inch apart. He took the time to notice the tiny details of her makeup–the way her eyelashes had the tiniest gold jewels on the tips, the orangey sheen over her lips, and the way the sparkly yellow mask framed her eyes.

“So–um–we’re about to transform back,“ she started.

“You’re right, um, I’m going to need that back?“ he said, pointing at the comb. She pulled it out of her hair and handed it to him, Pollen materializing immediately.

“Sun salutations, Chat Noir!“

“You ready to go back in your box, Pollen?“

“Hmmm…not really. Can I stay with Marigold?“ Chat Noir looked to at Marinette with a surprised expression.

“You can do that?“

“Of course, I can!“ Pollen huffed. “Now give the comb back to Marinette.“ He handed the silver comb back to Marinette, who pocketed it immediately.

They stood there in awkward silence for a inute until Chat Noir’s ring beeped again. he dashed into a bathroom, stuffed a wedge of camembert into Plagg, and ran out of the bathroom, back to where Marinette was conversing with Pollen.

“Out of all the 19 kwamis, I had to get the hippie one? Not that I’m complaining, but…yoga? Now?“

“Don’t complain, mine eats cheese 24/7.“

He shook his head and broke off one buttery yellow rose from the bush.

“A pretty flower for a pretty girl,“ he announced, offering her the rose. “Before I go.“

“Friendship,“ Marinette said softly. Wait, did this mean she only wanted to be friends? Shoot. “The rose, I mean. Yellow roses mean friendship.“

“Oh,“ he said, looking down. Double-shoot.

“Unless it’s thirteen of them, though.“ He looked sideways at the bush before Marinette put her hand on his arm.

“Don’t you dare. Those roses aren’t supposed to be picked, you know.“

“Sorry, Marinette. I–um–is it okay if I call you Goldie?“ Marinette smiled warmly.

“Of course, but only if I can call you kitty.“ Adrien felt a warm, tingly feeling in his chest, rising up until he felt like he could float.

“Yeah! Let’s go, Goldie. We’ve got a fanclub to meet.“

They walked the around the building, over to the class, who immediately burst into applause.

“You were amazing!“ Kim cheered.

“Yeah, I’m changing it from the Ladyblog to the Goldie-Noir Blog!“

“So you heard that, huh?“

#scarlet lady au #chatgold #chat noir #adrien agreste #marigold au #marigold #marinette dupain cheng #marichat?#marichat #adrienette

280 notes · View notes

alley-catz-vs-daybreakers · 4 years ago

Text

Only Fools Rush In

AC & DB drama track

Happy Birthday Gentaro! 🎉

Leading up to April 1st, a pair of Division leaders find them in a rather humorous mishap. However, due to a certain someone’s desire for inspiration, all six members are brought into the chaos. Meanwhile, the amused author looks on.

Kosuke: Yumeno-sensei? This is Furuhata Kosuke, you wanted to meet with me about a book cover?

Gentaro: Apologies, you seem to have the wrong person you see, for I am merely a poorly paid cosplayer. Meant to promote the recent book of a different author, titled “Tales of Genji.”

Kosuke: Yumeno-sensei, that is a book most know already know by name. Regardless, do you have any ideas for how you’d like for your cover to look?

Gentaro: I have no preference, though I would prefer it to an extravagant and bright one to catch eyes on the selves as it is different from my usual stories. A stand out story must have a stand out cover after all.

Kosuke: R-right. So may I see the overview to get an idea?

Gentaro: I am not yet done with that actually. Though I may give it to you in a few days. The first of April perhaps?

Kosuke: Yes. That works.

Gentaro: Also, about that cover.

Kosuke: Yes?

Gentaro: That was a lie. A simple design will do.

Kosuke: A-Ah. I see. . .

Gentaro: I will be off then. do enjoy the cake.

Kosuke: Wait what?!

Sever: Here you go sir. This was paid in advance.

[Door closes]

Gentaro: Now then, to see what unfolds.

Gentaro’s story: A young lady is to meet with her friend at a cafe when a stranger takes a seat beside her. He pretends to be her boyfriend as he claims he is being followed by numerous admirers. Along the way, they bond and find they went to the same school. Her friends however do not like him and in the end they must separate. Along the way, there are hints as to something must be off. Turns out, the man was indeed a highschool classmate whom she had a rush with, but one who was ostracized by her friends and moved away. Her visit to the cafe is for the last place she saw him, where he rejected her before he left.

Gentaro: Such an tragic tale, to feel the stings of love is truly a misfortune thing—

Emiko: There you are! Yumeno-sama! ~ ♡

Gentaro: Speaking of.

Gentaro: I know not of this Yumeno you speak of young lady. I am merely a poor, homeless young man who has spent the very last sum of his money to buy these outdated clothes and some bitter coffee.

Gentaro: Do you really not have anything better to do than disturb the unfortunate?

Emiko: Huh? Homeless? But you’re said-ooooh! You’re lying right? Sorry Yumeno-sama but cha can’t fool me! ~ ☆

Emiko: So you found me ‘cause Ramuda needed a favor right? Where is he? Is he hiding?

Gentaro: About that, Ramuda’s not here, that was a lie. I just said that to get you here. For an informant you’re not very cautious are you?

Emiko: Hey! I can be cautious! You just don’t seem suspicious. But why do you need me Yumeno-sama? Doooo you want me to find someone?

Gentaro: You’re close but not quite. I actually need you to accompany someone for awhile. They’re waiting inside for you right now. Oh and take this with you, [hands slip of paper] the table number is on the back. But do not open it until you meet him.

Emiko: An escort job? I don’t think I’ve done that before, but it sounds like fun. Okay, you can leave it to me! Bye bye Yumeno-sama! ~ ♡

[walks inside the cafe as Gentaro leaves]

Emiko: Whooooa~ It feels really homey in here, so cute!

Emiko: Hmmmm, table #6. I wonder what this guy is li—

Kosuke: ? ? ?

Emiko: ? ? ?

Emiko: Kosuke! [glomps him] Hello! What’s up! What’cha eating? Is it yummy? Can I have some!

Kosuke: Ah! Emiko-san! Um, yes, this is very good, and you can certainly have some if you’d like. [slides over plate]

Emiko: Really? Thank you! ~ ♡

Kosuke: Why are you here by the way? Do you have business with Ramuda-san?

Emiko: Well I actually owe Ramuda a favor, but I guess Yumeno-sama’s the one giving me a job today. What about you?

Kosuke: Ah! I had a meeting with Yumeno-sensei about a book cover of his. It seems that Ramuda-san recommended me to him.

Emiko: Cool cool! ~ ☆ Then that makes this way easier, ‘cause you’re actually my assignment today. Yumeno-sama said I have to escort you somewhere.

Kosuke: Escort. . .me? To where?

----------

Natsuki: I don’t get why you had to drag me along with you.

Haruto: Because an unknown number told me about where Ko-chan was and he might have a stalker.

Natsuki: This makes us the stalkers you numbnut.

Haruto: Dude, looks like he’s on a date with that cutesy Harajuku leader girl. . .

Natsuki: What?!

----------

Seiichi: Look I’m sure she’s fine. Emiko’s a tough girl, she can handle herself.

Hiroshi: That much is clear. But she’s not one to run off with a client without blabbing about it first. Plus whoever called us here clearly has ulterior motive, it could be them.

Seiichi: They did sound pretty sketchy, but it’s nothing we haven’t dealt with befo—

Seiichi: Dude, look at that window. That cafe over there!

Hiroshi: Yes, it’s just a cafe. What’s so special about—Is that her? With, Akihabara’s leader??

Seiichi: Wait is she on a date?!

----------

[they opened up Gentaro’s paper in suprise]

Emiko: . . .

Kosuke: . . .

Kosuke: . . . “Have an enjoyable date?”. . . Oh. . . This was a setup. . . What do we do?! I mean- you’re getting paid for this and I don’t want to be the reason you don’t get money but- why?! You’re like a sister!

Emiko: Eeeeeh?! A date! Like a date date! But you’re like my big brother! I don’t want you to have to pay for this. 💦 Plus I’ve never been on a date before! Ramuda are you in on this too?!

Kosuke: Ahhhhhhh. . . this is really bad! What do we do?! Does just hanging out here count?!

Emiko: I-I don’t know! Maybe! *turns beet red* U-umm. . . . . . . . . *goes quiet & looks down*

Kosuke: I’m not really the type to use swear words, but. . .

----------

Haruto: Hey, Natsu. I think Kosuke’s actually flirting with her. She’s blushing like crazy. (whistles) who knew Ko-chan could do such a thing.

Natsuki: You must be seeing things, besides, finish your food. We need to go, I don’t have all day.

——

Seiichi: Are they actually flirting?? I don’t think I’ve ever seen her that embarrassed.

Hiroshi: Hmph, together or not that fiend better not try anything.

Seiichi: Well, if this is really the client then maybe we should stay out of it.

Hiroshi: *sighs* I suppose you’re right, but I still want to know about that number—. . . Don’t look now, but do try to hold your temper.

Seiichi: Oi what temper! What are you looking at anyways? Huh? . . . It’s the other guys from Akihabara!

Hiroshi: I thought I told you to hold your temper. 💦 Now you’ve given us away.

Natsuki: Oh look, we’re just a squad of stalkers.

Haruto: Natsu! Don’t call us that!

Seiichi: He he he, stalker squad. Not bad coming from you losers!

Hiroshi: Well that’s one way to start things off. If I may add, what exactly are you two doing here.

Natsuki: My little brother got a text telling him where Kosuke was with a photo. He got scared and came over. Judging from things though, we were all just chess pieces for someone’s amusement.

Haruto: Yeah! It was a creepy message tho!

Natsuki: And I was dragged along, though I believe that if a certain someone thought things through, he could have reasoned that Kosuke is more than capable of defending himself.

Hiroshi: Hmm. Unfortunately, I’ll have to agree with you. We got a call not too long ago from an unknown saying Emiko was helping a friend. They too sent us a picture of where she was, at this very location.

Seiichi: So does that mean someone’s stalking them both? More importantly, are they really dating?!

Hiroshi: I can hardly see that as more important, but it seems we have two mysteries to solve.

Natsuki: That implies us four working together.

Haruto: Awww! Give em a little chance!

Natsuki: Don’t you dare go a tirade about going with the flow and disregarding everything else.

Haruto: I don’t do that! Much. . .

Seiichi: *whispers* Oh great, this must be my lucky day.

Hiroshi: Enough Seiichi, it appears we have no choice. However, do try to keep your brother on a short leash, boy.

Natsuki: Same goes for you old man, except this time it’s your ward.

Haruto: Geeze Natsu, you’re real riled up.

Natsuki: Oh. I’m sorry, not my fault the geezer’s insufferable.

Hiroshi: Right back at you.

Seiichi: Tch. You guys are one to talk! Especially that barking dog of yours!

Natsuki: If you want to lump us together then either stop calling me a child, or call yourself one.

Haruto: Rude! I ain’t a dog! Though they are really nice and fun to play with. . . so. . .

Hiroshi: So the little mocking bird finally speaks. Truly an incredible sight.

Seiichi: Pfffft ha ha ha! Are you really that dumb! You know I’m trashing ya right!

Natsuki: Last time I checked, it’s not me who’s constantly stuck in rut. And also, next time, try to choose a bird species that wasn’t helpful in Darwin’s theory of evolution hm?

Haruto: Hey! Aren’t you a bit too young to go trash talking everyone? Like I dunno, wait for like a competition of somethin’ I guess. Throwing hands isn’t the only way to solve your problems kid.

[cafe doors burst open]

Emiko: Wait wait please don’t fight! What’s going on out here!

Kosuke: This is in public! Please be careful!

Alley Catz: ! ! !

DayBreakers: ! ! !

Emiko: *tearing up* Why are you guys fighting about noooooow! This is embarrassing! ~

Seiichi: Not this again! 😰 P-Please don’t cry.

Hiroshi: Y-Yes, forgive the intrusion m’lady.

Kosuke: I certainly look forward to your excuse as to why you’re practically fighting on the streets.

Natsuki: . . . Haruto

Haruto: u-um... I uhh, was scared?

Emiko: What have I told you guys about starting fights? I can tell you started it too, bullies. Bleeeeeh! *sticks out tongue*

Kosuke: How does one. . .nevermind. Scared for what.

Haruto: Your safety duh! Some creep sent a pic of you and your location. And now we come to see you on a date!

Hiroshi: Right, we’re here for that very same reason. Someone called us claiming they knew where you were and we thought you might be in danger.

Seiichi: I knew you were fine but we didn’t know you were on a date with the beanpole!

Kosuke: Wait! No! It’s not a date! I was here on business!

Natsuki: Stop letting him call you a beanpole first.

Emiko: It is not a date! At least not a real one . . . *blushes* Look I’ll explain later ok! Plus, Kosuke’s not a beanpole, he’s cute just the way he is Seiichi!

Seiichi: That’s not what I meant. 💦

Kosuke: Oh! I don’t find anything offensive in that! It’s just a nickname!

Natsuki: Where’s your pride and self presevation?

Haruto: I think we all know where that is Natsu.

Natsuki + Haruto: Nonexistent.

Kosue: *blushes* (mumbles) I’m not that bad about it. . .

Emiko: *blushes* A-anyways, go home you two! Or else. . o-or else. . . Just go! And no more stalking!

-----------

Kosuke: hm? A package? Oh! The summary!

Kosuke: “Ruby Chocolate. Brought to a cafe, Aiko meets her first love on a whim, only to find their lives have been intertwined for years. However, her friends dissaproval will test their relationship.”

Kosuke: . . . Well, it is my job.

-----------

Emiko: Yay! Package for me! Wait, I didn’t order a book. Did I?

Emiko: “Ruby Chocolate” “Brought to a cafe, Aiko meets her first love on a whim, only to find their lives have been intertwined for years. However, her friends dissaproval will test their relationship.”

Emiko: Aww how cute. This is from. . . Yumeno-sama! *blushes* Wait a second he really did set us up!

-----------

Gentaro: *sipping tea* What a wonderful birthday present I have given myself.

#hypnosis mic #hypnosis mic imagines #gentaro yumeno #hypnosis mic oc #daybreakers #alley catz #kosuke furuhata #natsuki morikawa #haruto morikawa #emiko akaibara #hiroshi sakura #seiichi asagao

18 notes · View notes