#i had a struggling student ace his finals yesterday | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

moraygrotto · 1 year ago

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new commission !!! 💚

many many thanks to @norman6321ify for commissioning this fic of Ace and their OC Tock !

Contains: stuffing, vore, burping, belly inflation, briefly mentioned emeto

~ 🐊 ~

With one look at the newest flier tacked to the bulletin board outside the Hall of Mirrors, Ace could tell that it meant deception.

Deuce held him back when he started to push through the other students examining it, but even from his vantage point, he could see the minimalistic design, its small text black with a few lines of elegant lilac accent, and the logo of the Mostro Lounge stamped and embossed at its top.

“It almost looks like a wedding invitation,” Ace said to Deuce.

“That’s Octavinelle for you,” said Deuce.

Ace snorted. “The dorm in general, sure. Some of its individual members have a slightly different style.”

“You’re right,” Deuce said. “Yesterday, Floyd stole a piece of fried calamari right off my plate at lunch.”

At this, Ace laughed out loud. “Typical,” he said. “If he keeps that up, then maybe I’ll forgive those guys for, like, everything.”

As Deuce sighed in annoyance, the students blocking the flier at last moved away, allowing Ace and Deuce to gain a closer look.

Ace was a quicker reader than Deuce, so after skimming the text, he had the pleasure of watching him, eyes glued to the flier, grow visibly more and more enthralled.

Deuce turned to look at him, jaw open. “This is a really, really good deal,” he said. “I’m not sure why they would—”

Ace clucked his tongue. “It’s Octavinelle, so no doubt the work of Azul. There’s gotta be some diabolical catch.”

“They usually put that in fine print,” Deuce said, scowling once more at the page, “but I don’t see any.”

Indeed, the page was suspiciously empty of text other than a few lines:

REVEL IN THE BOUNTY OF THE SEA!

With our Neptune’s Catch special, enjoy unlimited dishes and bottomless drinks from a limited-time menu.

10 Thaumarks for unlimited dishes fully enjoyed; all prices as marked for one or more menu items left unfinished upon checkout.

Ace frowned. “I dunno,” he said. “That last part makes it sound like you’ve gotta pay for every supposedly-unlimited thing if there’s even one bite you don’t wanna finish.”

“Or can’t finish,” Deuce said quietly.

“Yeah,” Ace chuckled. “Dude, you eat so much, especially after your track meets. Think you’d get trapped in Azul’s snare?”

“Pot calling the kettle black!” snapped Deuce. “And, no. Honestly, it seems stupid. If the only catch really is that you have to finish everything, then who would order something that they couldn’t finish?”

Ace shrugged. “There are a lot of chumps at this school. Not everybody has your nose for sniffing out bargains, O Deuce The Almighty.”

Deuce frowned. “Quit being sarcastic; I’m serious. I might go to this thing, if it actually is that cheap.”

“Not without me there to watch you struggle,” Ace teased. “If it really is this simple, I’m taking advantage of it, too.”

“You’ll be the one struggling,” growled Deuce. “And I’ve learned enough to be on the lookout for Azul’s traps. The rules are right there, take ‘em or leave ‘em.”

“Again,” Ace said, “I’m physically gonna go to the Mostro Lounge and check it out before I make any final decisions.” He cracked his knuckles. “If it’s legit, I’m in; if it’s not, I’m not. Either way, though, I can’t wait to see you screw yourself over.”

“As if I’d go overboard sooner than you,” huffed Deuce.

Still bickering, then, the pair left for class, and spent the day eagerly anticipating their visit to the Mostro Lounge.

Finally, after a deliberately meager lunch eaten together, and much discussion of the terms of the Neptune’s Catch special, they were free for the evening, and ready to follow through on their plan. Inside the Mostro Lounge, neither boy could find a letter of suspiciously-predatory fine print, so both of them gleefully accepted the deal, sitting down for a bottomless ten-thaumark feast.

Upon taking their table, they were served by a thick, surly fellow in Octavinelle uniform. Shaggy hair flopping over his pale face, he seemed harshly disinterested at first, barely even looking at Ace and Deuce as he introduced himself as Tock.

“If you’re here for the Neptune’s Catch thing, you probably already know what the deal is,” he snarled. “Do I have to explain it to you?”

“Um, no,” Deuce replied with forced politeness. “We talked to Azul at the front desk. Ten thaumarks for the entire bill, as long as we eat everything we order, right?”

“Couldn’t’ve said it better myself,” Tock said sarcastically, letting his gaze settle upon Deuce.

From Ace’s viewpoint, something seemed a little off about the way Tock looked at Deuce. He had replied to him, but the coldly appraising glint in his eyes was not exactly the look of a conversation partner.

It was no matter, Ace told himself. Jade and Floyd were complete weirdos at times, too. He knew what he had expected when he stepped through the mirror to Octavinelle.

After accepting a menu tossed unceremoniously at him by Tock, Deuce had begun to order.

“Just the drink and appetizer?” Tock asked, running a hand through his swamp-colored hair.

“Yep,” Deuce replied. “I’ll for sure go for more later, but I wanna take this special one plate at a time.” He gave him a nervous smile. “You get it, right?”

“I think you’re no fun, but yeah,” he replied, and then turned his haughty stare upon Ace. “What about you, pipsqueak? Wanna fatten yourself up any better than your friend?”

Ace’s eyes flashed. Contrary to all the driveling propriety Azul had impressed upon him back when he was serving time as a Mostro Lounge waiter, this cheeky gentleman had challenged him.

Deuce smirked. “Go on, Ace. You told me I’d end up paying full price for my food. Show ‘em how much more capable than me you are.”

“I think I’ll do just that,” Ace said snidely, straightened up, and took up his menu. “One cup of tuna stew, please,” he professed. “Also the fish sticks for the table, a Coral Cola for me, and also the sushi sampler. Bring that one out quickly.” He furrowed his eyebrows, and glared at his waiter. “I’m about to starve to death.”

“Mm-hm,” grunted Tock, scrawling down his order. “I’ll be back. Try not to let that stomach starve you inside out while you’re waiting, okay? …You’d get blood all over Azul’s precious furniture, and the raw carrion would stink up the Lounge.”

Without another word, he strode off toward the kitchen, leaving Ace and Deuce alone at their table.

“I bet he’s a fun guy when he’s off the clock,” Ace said, face splitting into a grin.

“Yeah, you’d say,” muttered Deuce. “You’re like a match made in asshole heaven.”

“Asshole heaven,” sighed Ace. “Sounds like a fantastic place. Say, once you and I are both up there, are you still gonna try and act so well-behaved all the time?”

“Do you ever shut up?”

“Nope,” Ace replied, folding his hands behind his head. “Need to distract myself, too. I wasn’t lying when I said I was starving. Class really wore me out today; I can’t wait to eat!”

“I’ll agree with you there,” Deuce said, propping his elbows on the table. “I know the place is busy ‘cause of the special that was advertised everywhere, but I really hope they hurry up.”

“What was that?” came a gruff voice.

Deuce flinched hard, whole body going tense as he whipped his head up to look over Ace’s shoulder.

Ace let out a bout of laughter bubble over him as Tock the waiter slid into view, a drink clasped in each of his thick hands.

“Here you go,” he said. “Food’ll be out in a bit.”

Deuce thanked Tock, and unsheathed his straw before taking a long sip of his drink.

Tock looked over his shoulder at Ace as he left.

Ace waved playfully after him, but his brazen smile faltered as his retreating gaze remained on him, harsh and uncaring, the same way he had appraised them earlier. Ace was thus struck by a singular, distinct impression—this boy was predatory.

Tough as he was, however, Ace could shake off any icky emotion, if his intellect told him he was okay, which it did now. One sip of the cola set his tummy fizzing with unfulfilled greed, leaving him all the more eager for the food to start coming. He tried to fill the next few minutes with banter with Deuce, much to the latter’s chagrin, but hunger clawed at him all the while.

Finally, the appetizers arrived, savior to Ace’s stomach. Right before his waiter’s eyes, then, he took a brimming spoonful of his soup, and was immediately assaulted by how hot it was. With Tock watching him, he refused to spit it out, gulping it quickly past his scalding tongue, and letting it burn down his gullet. “Delicious,” he wheezed. “Thanks, man.”

“Don’t hold back on my account,” Tock said, smiling. “Feel free to just guzzle it.”

Another challenge. In begrudging compromise, Ace grabbed a fish stick, and stuck it into his mouth whole.

This, too, was scorching hot! He practically swallowed it without chewing, forcing the painful lump down his throat, and managed to shoot a roguish smile in Tock’s direction. “Haven’t you got a job to do?”

“Ace,” hissed Deuce.

Tock snorted, and let his empty tray flop down to his sturdy thighs. “Makin’ sure our customers are all well-fed is my job,” he said. “Keep doing it for me ‘til I come back, okay?”

He turned to leave.

“Hey,” Ace said, snapping his fingers. “Aren’t you supposed to ask what we want for our main meals now?”

Tock glared at him. “Sushi’s still on its way,” he said. “And you’re getting on my nerves.”

“I get that a lot,” Ace chirped. “But hey, the sushi’s all for me.” He patted his tummy, then frowned sarcastically in Deuce’s direction. “All of this guy’s appetizers have come, and look at him! He’s thin as a rake. Better put in our entree orders now, yeah? Hate for us to go… less than well-fed.”

“Leave me out of this!” said Deuce, then turned to Tock. “It’s fine,” he said. “You’re working plenty hard; please don’t strain any harder for our—”

“No,” came the smug voice of Tock, cutting Deuce off completely. “Let the kid order.”

Deuce frowned, but did not reply.

“Well, okay,” said Ace. “I’ll start with the linguine and clam sauce, though you can bet I’ll be asking for more entrees soon enough. What about you, Deuce?”

Deuce looked timidly up at Tock, who was scribbling down Ace’s order, a smirk of satisfaction on his face.

“Uh,” he began, “I’ll have the catfish. Thanks.”

“Not… A… Problem,” Tock said, clicking his pen shut as he finished writing. He looked down at the plethora of foods already decorating the table, then up at Ace. As he, at last, turned to leave, Ace swore he saw him lick his lips.

“Dude,” Ace said the moment he was out of earshot. “Did you catch that?”

“The—” Deuce widened his eyes, and licked his lips theatrically.

“Yeah!” said Ace. “You think he’s, like, hungry?”

“I dunno, maybe. Maybe he likes seafood, and wished he could be a customer right now.”

“Sheesh,” Ace said. “I hope Azul isn’t starving him. Really glad I’m not stuck with an anemone telling me what to do right now.”

“And that you’re not an actual student of Octavinelle,” Deuce supplied through a mouthful of food. “Imagine being under Azul’s thumb all the time.”

Ace picked up a fish stick with his fingers, and ate it with relish. “Can’t say Riddle is much better, though.”

Deuce gave only a lopsided smile of assent, watching Ace eat as he himself munched.

Soon, Tock brought Ace’s sushi, and both Ace and Deuce ordered refills for their beverages. As Ace placed his order between bites, Tock’s expression turned to one of cool enjoyment.

“Something’s—UURP!—Something's up with that guy,” Ace said a minute later, and popped a piece of crab maki into his mouth. “Maybe with this whole place. I mean, moreso than usual. Not like something fishy isn’t literally always happening here.” Laughing at his own pun, a soft and sticky grain of rice lodged in his throat, and he had to thump his chest hard with his fist, coughing to free it.

“Ace,” Deuce said, voice somber, “I dunno if I should bring up the elephant in the room, but…”

“Hgrk—uRPh—Ugh.” Ace gave his chest a softer pat, then shot Deuce a lazy grin. “Speak away, my friend.”

Deuce rolled his eyes, and picked at his food. “It’s that you’re eating like you won’t ever fill up.”

As Deuce spoke, Ace finished off the last piece of sushi, then turned back to the remaining soup in his bowl.

“Like, see?” Deuce said, grimacing. “You just wolfed all that down in barely a second flat. You’re gonna fill up eventually, and that time will come quicker if you keep eating so fast and guzzling soda.”

Ace swallowed down a gulp of his drink as Deuce said this. “Don’t joke with me,” he said. “I know my own body better than you do, and I know this stomach’s got a capacity to beat even your own. Speaking of, why are you barely ordering anything? It’s unlimited, remember?”

Deuce sighed, and returned to his food. “All I’m saying is, you can’t come crying to me when you end up paying full price for all that. The reason I’m not going as crazy as you is just that. I do plan to eat ‘til I’m full, but I’m not gonna risk ordering more than it takes to do that.”

Deuce thought he was so sensible, Ace remarked to himself. When, after a little while, Deuce’s entree came, he was clearly ravenous for it, and yet he had the nerve to criticize Ace for acting on his own hunger.

When Tock set Ace’s pasta down before him, he hurried to order another entree off the menu, just to prove how impressive his appetite was. As Tock, now grinning salaciously, took his order, Deuce muttered something about self-control. To this, Ace erupted in laughter. Hearing that from Deuce, of all people, made him all the more excited to prove him wrong.

The linguine and clam sauce was filling.

Ace found this out uncomfortably early on in the dish; the noodles seemed to settle heavily in his gut, like they were a bear and his stomach was their cave for hibernation, rich sauce blanketing all. Undeterred, he ordered several side dishes the next time he saw Tock.

“Okay, seriously, no joking this time,” said Deuce, sipping at a bowl of oyster soup he had conceded to order on the side. “What are you going to do if you can’t finish all that?”

“I will finish it,” Ace whined, though privately, he knew the answer. Ace was a master of sleight of hand. What was more, the pockets of Night Raven College’s school uniforms were deep. There was a reason all the side dishes he had ordered this time were dry, or mostly so—buns with shrimp filling, lox on toast, a lobster salad croissant—even if the Mostro Lounge’s napkins were cloth, and thus unable to wrap around one’s food and steal without attracting Azul’s hawklike eye for inventory, there was no way to prove that an unwrapped piece of food had not simply vanished into Ace’s belly. That was, if he hid it well enough—and he would.

True to his word, however, when the food arrived, he began shoving it with passion into his mouth. It was best fresh, of course, and, just like Deuce, he wanted to take advantage of the bargain to become nice and full.

He ate unabashedly in front of Tock whenever he came around, which Tock seemed to love. If Tock’s apparent hunger had dissipated, and he was now simply happy to watch Ace eat, then Ace was all the happier himself.

He had to admit, however, that he was getting very full.

“Coming here was a great idea,” Deuce said, smiling through a mouthful of fish. “I can’t believe I’m eating like this for ten thaumarks.”

“Totally,” Ace replied, thin voice distorted by a burp. He was doing his best to polish off his food. He had to prove Deuce wrong. His breath was growing shallow from the sheer bulk packed within him, though, and his stomach was pushing uncomfortably against his waistcoat and belt. Surreptitiously, he slipped a bun into the upper left inside pocket of his jacket.

Deuce did not notice.

Ace took another real bite of his food, then tucked another piece away into his clothes.

Still, Deuce did not even look at him, only ate happily, and occasionally took sips of his drink.

With utmost care, Ace raised his lobster croissant to his mouth, and began to lick out all the salad from the edges, so the bread could close fully without leaking any out, thus messing up his jacket pockets beyond immediate repair.

Satisfied with his work, he slipped it away.

“Dude,” said Deuce, “did you just—”

Immediately, Ace crossed his arms, careful not to crush any of his bounty. “Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t.”

“You totally did!” Deuce whispered, shock plastered all over his face.

Ace smirked.

“Seriously,” Deuce whispered, “you’re gonna be fucked when Azul finds out.”

“When he finds out?” Ace scoffed. “Don’t patronize me, Deuce. Not all of us have hot dogs for fingers like you.”

“Come on!”

Ace rolled his eyes. “It’s an if, and a very unlikely one. I got this. Don’t worry your tiny head off on my account.”

“You do know that this is Azul we’re talking about, right?”

“And this is Ace you’re talking to,” he huffed. Every admonishing jab from Deuce dug further under his skin. He would have to be fine.

At that moment, their menacing waiter decided to make an appearance. “How’s it goin’, folks?” he said, speaking to both of them, though looking directly at Ace.

“Fantastic!” Ace said, at once chipper as could be.

“That’s just great,” Tock said. “So happy to hear that, you have no idea. Love it when customers are full ‘n satisfied.”

Ace grinned awkwardly. There was no way he had seen his thieving. “That’s me,” he said.

“Scrumptious,” purred Tock, deep voice rumbling up from low in his belly. “Make sure you can still walk afterwards, yeah? Don’t wanna be stuck here, sittin’ like a ripe piece of meat on a stick.”

“I’ll be just fine,” Ace said, still grinning, though scowling with his eyes. “Did you come over here to tell us something, big guy, or just to poke fun at me?”

“Not a lick of patience in you, huh?” Tock said, and flipped open his notepad. “Any desserts, either of you?”

“Yes,” interjected Deuce. “I’ll have the Pearl-Sprinkle frozen custard.” He raised an eyebrow at Ace. “And you, Ace?”

The bastard. “Uhh, what’re the menu items again?” he asked Tock.

“Oh. Uhh, there’s a lotus root turnover—”

“That!” interrupted Ace. “That sounds great. One of those would be perfect.”

“Comin’ right up,” Tock said smugly, and bustled away.

Deuce looked over his shoulder at his retreating form, then back at Ace. “Do you think you’re gonna—”

Ace smirked. “I know I’m gonna.”

“C’mon!” he hissed. “He’s probably already onto you, and listed that dessert first ‘cause it would be easy to slip into your pocket.”

“I’m not an idiot,” Ace said. “A few crumbs here, a little smear of—urp—filling there; he’ll never guess.”

“Azul might,” countered Deuce. “And also, that sounds so gross. I’m glad I’m not inside one of your pockets right now.”

“Azul probably has a potion that could make that possible,” said Ace.

Soon enough, their desserts arrived before them, of which Deuce happily tucked in.

“Dude,” said Ace, “how do you still have room for anything?”

He widened his eyes at Ace significantly. “There’s such a thing as being full but with room for desert,” he mocked.

Ace, for his part, had no room at all. His stomach was still crying out in overstuffed tightness after all his savory foods had been cleared from their dishes one way or another, and the plump, fluffy turnover in front of him looked anything but appetizing.

As soon, then, as Tock was out of sight, Ace strategically picked a few crumbs off his food, and scattered them atop his plate. Then, after attempting to dust the turnover of any bits and grease that might dirty his jacket, he tucked it away with ease.

Deuce took a bit longer to finish his frozen custard, but afterward leaned back, and with a sigh of satisfaction, gave his tummy a slap.

“We gotta pay at the front,” Ace told him, drumming his fingers against the table. Deuce looked so smug. Ace was not about to grant him the luxury of a few minutes to digest.

Begrudgingly, then, Deuce followed Ace through the Mostro Lounge, and to the front counter, where both Azul and Tock were standing.

Ace’s heart dropped. Both boys were stocky figures, dressed in the foppish, too-clean garb of Octavinelle dorm. However, something about their presence was unnerving him horribly. Both of them were grinning ever-so-wide.

Steeling himself, he approached.

To Ace’s surprise, Azul addressed Deuce first.

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a happy customer!” he drawled. “Did you enjoy the special, my well-fed friend?”

“Mm-hm!” Sheepishly, Deuce patted his tummy.

“That’ll be ten thaumarks,” Azul said smoothly.

As Deuce paid, Ace reached in his outside pocket for his wallet, and flipped through it idly. Moments later, his turn to pay had come.

“Here you go,” he said, holding out one ten-thaumark note.

“Hold on for me just one moment,” Azul said, tapping some buttons on the register. Tock was staring at him silently.

Azul brightened up. “Your total is two-hundred-thirty-six thaumarks, and sixty-five sorcents,” he said, beaming.

“What?” Ace snapped. He would not give in, now nor ever. “The deal was that the whole meal was ten.”

“Ah,” said Azul, “Indubitably. However, you also agreed to the stipulation that if the customer leaves any single menu item unfinished, the dishes will all be priced as marked. If you like, you may review the terms of the—”

“But I did eat everything!”

“No,” Azul said plainly, “you did not.”

“You can’t prove I didn’t!” he shouted.

For a moment, all was silent. Then, a soft laugh began to rumble out of Azul. “I believe,” he said, “that I can prove it.” He turned to Tock, and raised one self-satisfied little eyebrow.

At once, the thick, imposing fellow leapt over the counter with astounding athleticism, and seized Ace’s left arm in a vicelike grip.

He really was as scary as he looked!

Hot breath came close to Ace’s ear. “You sure there’s no proof, little guy?” Tock said.

“Damn sure!” Ace replied, trying to struggle free.

One meaty hand extended toward the lapel of Ace’s jacket.

The moment had come. Ace gave an almighty yank, flinging his entire body weight away, but Tock held fast, bruising into the meat of his arm, and forcefully pulled his jacket open.

As Tock began to rummage through his inside pockets, he flung Ace into an agonizing, full-body squeeze. Wriggle as Ace might, he was entirely trapped. With the fullness of his belly and the pressure of Tock’s grip, he felt as if he might pop.

“Then, what’s this?” Tock was saying, withdrawing a piece of food and casting it to the floor. “Ooh, How about this one? It’s got meat in it. Don’t mind if I do.”

Ace could not see Tock’s face behind him, but he heard a single, heavy gulp.

Tock heaved a pleased-sounding breath. “It was cute seein’ you try to pull a fast one on us,” he said, voice punctuated by the sound of saliva smacking his lips.

There was a sigh from Azul. “‘Cute’ is one way to put it,” he said. “I simply cannot stand when a fool believes he can make a fool of me.” There was a clicking, as if a pen was being capped.

Deuce, in front of Ace, was only looking on in horror.

“Tock, my friend,” came Azul, “you’re welcome to take the rest of the day off waitering. Consider it your duty to remind this poor soul what happens when one tries to double-cross me.”

A deep, growling laugh was reverberating out of Tock, into Ace’s bones, followed by another monstrous smacking of saliva. “Well, little snack,” he said, stomach gurgling up against Ace’s back, louder, hungrier, until it was a veritable roar, before sputtering silent in ripe anticipation. “Sounds like I gotta thank you for being such a hungry customer.”

Snack.

Ace felt the hard ruffle of fingers in his hair. His heart had begun to gallop.

“I hope you’re really satisfied,” Tock continued. “‘Cause if you’re as yummy as you look, then I’m about to be satisfied, too!”

There was a pause, in which miraculously nothing happened. Only after a gasp from Deuce did Ace realize that Tock was changing.

His skin, pressed up against him, was growing harder. His hands’ grip on him was strengthening; the little strip of flesh visible between his cuffs and his Octavinelle gloves was darkening, turning… green? Most chilling of all, the breath in Ace’s ear was growing hotter, heavier, no longer human.

“And thank you too, Azul,” Tock said, and his voice was a touch louder and more coarse. “Though I’d like it a lot better if you just let me do this every day, instead a’ making me be a backup waiter, of all things.”

Azul gave another sigh. “I suppose you do have unique skills,” he said.

In a flash, Ace finally glimpsed Tock’s face as he was spun around to face him—green, reptilian, hungry—before he was lifted bodily into the air.

“Wait!” Ace shrieked.

Tock did not reply, only snaked his large, powerful tongue around his mouth, revealing countless teeth like vicious knives.

“No, STOP—”

And Ace was plunged, head first, into the depths of Tock’s throat.

Right then and there, Tock gulped around him, inundating his hair, skin, and contraband-stuffed uniform with the juices of his gullet, and, after he passed through a tight valve, with the briny acid of what could only be his stomach.

Cramped tight into the hot space, he struggled to breathe, but eventually heaved a lungful of the acrid, muggy gas.

Tock had just eaten him. He had never known Azul’s cruelty could go so far.

Inside, Ace was horrifically crowded; he leaned, thrashed against the lining of Tock’s stomach, but it stretched with ease, then sprang back to squeeze his contorted form. How big could this crocodile boy bloat? Furthermore, Ace had not heard a ripping sound yet, though there was no way Tock could now still fit inside the crisp Octavinelle uniform.

The stomach acid all around Ace bubbled, and made Tock’s stomach lining spasm. A rush of air, much of which Ace had taken down with him, pushed up through the sphincter above him in one digestion-scented bubble.

Perhaps Ace would have more room now.

He could hear voices from outside this reptilian prison, and the loud rumbling of the belch traveling up Tock’s throat, before the latter abruptly stopped.

There was a gulp.

Moments later, Ace was blasted with the same stale, vile air, making him cough, then slam against Tock’s stomach walls as Tock no doubt gave his belly a satisfied smack, gas and Ace both trapped inside him.

“—if he’ll make it out eventually,” someone was saying. “Though, Riddle won’t be happy at all.”

Deuce!

“Hey!” Ace hollered, using all of his lung power as the fumes made him swoon. “Hey, Deuce! I can barely think in here! Tell this guy to burp me up, or something!” He gritted his teeth. “Please!”

“Ace?”

“Yeah, I can hear you!” He slammed into Tock’s slimy stomach with his fist. “Tell him to burp me out!”

“You really think I’m in a position to do that?” snapped Deuce. “Besides, you got yourself into this mess! Why do I have to be accountable for you?”

“Grrr…”

Another reverberating jostle came all around Ace, lighter this time, what felt like a playful few pats.

“Nobody’s getting burped up,” came the voice of Tock, vast and deep from his diaphragm right above his stomach. “Not today, at least. Oh, no; you’re crazy if you think I’m not gonna enjoy a sweet li’l morsel like you as long as I can.”

“You JERK!” Ace shouted.

“Your little pal is leaving,” Tock said to Ace. “Shame he didn’t try to eat us out of business like you did. Then I could a’ treated myself to a two-snack combo this evening.” Tock’s belly bounced as he snickered. “I think,” he said, “I’ll follow his lead, though, and take off. Goodnight, Azul. Save all the tasty-looking chumps for me.”

With that blood-boiling insult, he turned, a vertigo-inducing sensation for Ace, and began to walk away. Where he was going, Ace could only dread.

~ 🐊 ~

Tock Crockwork strolled down the halls of Octavinelle, heading toward his dorm room, and a very well-earned rest.

It felt good to be back in his crocodile form, to be full in his crocodile form, not to mention with such an entertaining piece of meat as his meal. Ace, he remembered the other snack calling him, was putting up more and more of a fight the more accustomed he grew to Tock’s belly, and Tock already relished the thought of teaching him his place—that of the silent, submissive meal he was always meant to be.

Happily, Tock threw open the door to his dorm room, and immediately began stripping off his clothes. His Octavinelle dorm uniform was made of special material that could stretch to practically any size, commissioned special for Tock due to his penchant for predation. However, fancy clothes as they were, it was still blissful to be free of them.

He changed instead into a pair of comfortable striped sweatpants, leaving his belly bare. He could hear Ace’s deliciously annoying blabber all the clearer now, every cry and jeer like the satisfied rumble of a full gut.

Just to give his prey a snatch of false hope, he stretched up, raising his ribcage and lessening the pressure on his stomach.

“Hey, why don’t you stay that way,” came Ace’s voice. “I’m sure it’ll be way more comfortable for the both of us!”

Tock rubbed his belly in mock kindness, and decided to humor his snack with a reply. “Oh, I’m sure,” he drawled. “This is definitely okay. But I can’t imagine you can understand real comfort from in there. I know what’s best for the both of us. This, for example—”

He knelt, and let his front sink to the floor, belly sandwiched inside a tight triangle between his shoulders, his thighs, and the rug—a position that must be torturously tight for Ace, while for Tock, the very Ace-stuffed belly made a wonderfully comfortable cushion. “Mmm, that’s the stuff~”

“Hey—HEY!” A volley of curses began to pierce through Tock’s belly to his ears, which he blithely ignored, opting instead to press further onto his dorm room rug. Ace sounded miserable right now, and Tock had every right, means, and inclination to make him feel worse.

Finally, a yelp hit his ears that sounded of real panic: “Please, I’m serious; let up—”

“Fine,” Tock grunted. “Your little lesson ain’t over, though.”

He stretched again, and rose to his feet, yawning to the full breadth of his long jaws. Working his fingertips under the weight of his tummy, he started by giving himself a gentle massage, relieving some of the stress on the flesh from Ace’s mass, before he had it fully in his palms, lifted it up, and let it drop.

A yell burst out of Ace as he and Tock’s guts bounced around within him, and jostled out a burp that felt so good, only a man-sized live meal could have caused it.

“Oops,” he said through a chuckle. “Next one’s getting swallowed back down, I swear.”

“No!” Ace yapped.

“As I said, you don’t know what’s good for you,” Tock said, and gave his belly another jiggle. “When inside a crocodile, a snack has gotta have a healthy supply of crocodile gas to keep ‘em company. It’s practically a rule.”

“Riddle would have your head on a stick for sayin’ that,” came Ace.

“Yeah, right,” snorted Tock. “This is Octavinelle. We do things our own way.”

“That’s clear enough, you big—”

“And me?” Tock went on, ignoring Ace’s insults. “I take ‘doing things my own way’ to a whole ‘nother level.” He adjusted the waistband of his sweatpants, then stretched from side to side, loving the way Ace rolled, flopped, and squished inside him. “Speakin’ of Octavinelle,” he said, “not sure if you know this, but the beds are really comfy here. You’ll sleep well tonight, even if it’s inside me on top a’ one.”

“You won’t let me out before then?” sputtered Ace.

Tock let out a loud, throaty laugh. Spinning around, he reached his bed, and flopped down backwards atop the fluffy covers. “Don’t make me laugh,” he purred to Ace. “You’re just gonna have to try and get cozy, little snack.” He gave his belly a poke, grinning lazily. “But don’t worry. I saw you eatin’. I know you like a challenge, so I won’t make this easy for you, either.”

“Oh, you bastard—”

Nestled in the soft embrace of his bed covers, Tock allowed Ace’s torrent of angry chatter to blend into a sort of background noise to his own thoughts. From this position, he could touch and admire his belly all the easier, too.

During the time Tock had spent within the halls of Octavinelle, instances where Azul had allowed him to swallow a naughty customer were some of his favorites. The feeling of swallowing a piece of live prey while they struggled, the tight fullness of a meal so large, his crocodile form getting to do what each and every cell of it was built to do—all made him feel connected to his home, his mother, and the life he had enjoyed in full before he had received his invitation to Night Raven College.

A school for mages where predators roamed the halls, and the strong dominated the weak—it had all the primal thrill of the wild, within the cushiness of a prestigious institution. If Azul were not able to pressure Tock into taking dull jobs at the Lounge, it would be quite near perfection.

From within his stomach, an acidic burp had begun to slide up his throat, which he quickly caught and swallowed back, making good on his promise to his unfortunate prey.

At this reminder of Ace, something struck Tock: while he had been relaxing, Ace had quieted down.

“Settling in comfortably there, little snacky-snack?” Tock said, poking hard at what felt like the region of Ace’s head.

“Ow!”

Perfect. Tock’s stomach gurgled in satisfaction.

“I could keep poking you,” Tock said, “if you like that.”

“I DON’T!”

“Alright, alright—” In a mocking facsimile of concession to Ace’s protests, Tock flopped over onto his side, belly so distended that it practically flung over him to bounce down upon the blankets.

The sloshing of his digestive system and the violent tumbling of Ace’s folded-up frame felt so good, almost as if he were getting his guts massaged from the inside. What was more, the noises of shock and scorn from the boy himself were hilarious, and Tock’s bout of belly-jostling laughter was well worth the banishment of any contented sleepiness that he had attained whilst Ace was breaking personal records by not causing a racket.

As Ace kicked and cursed at him, Tock squished and slapped his belly, awash in the playful repose of a satisfied predator.

His stomach rumbled along with him, eager to showcase its own satisfaction.

“You,” he said to Ace, “are a fantastic piece of prey. You just don’t let up fighting, do you?”

“Not with you so keen on torturing me in here!”

“That’s exactly it,” purred Tock. “You and I are a match made in heaven.”

“Asshole heaven,” muttered Ace.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing,” Ace said. “Nothing at all. Go on, what is it you wanna say?”

Tock grinned. “Some predators,” he said, “want their prey to shut up right away. If someone like that had no option but to eat a feisty snack like you, they might tear you limb from limb first, or take a potion to make you digest in a flash. Not me, though.” He slapped his belly, and Ace shouted something muffled which Tock chose to ignore.

“Lucky for you,” Tock continued, “you’ve found your way into a predator who takes plenty a’ pleasure in beating his snacks into submission.” A warm, rumbling growl came from his belly. “Hence the torture,” he added.

“You’re gonna digest me later,” Ace said faintly.

Tock could ignore him, let him live with the terror of obliteration. If he froze up, however, he might stop squirming.

“No, you dumbass,” he replied. “Headmage’ll let most things slide, but probably not full-out murder. I’m sure there’s potions to let you get digested and live, but my expertise is in eating, not that.” He rubbed his tummy idly, as if it were placidly still and not full of an Ace yet scrambling to find a comfortable resting position inside. “So nah,” he said, “I’m not gonna digest you.”

“Oh, thank the fucking Seven.”

Tock scratched his belly, and yawned. “You’re just in here to learn a lesson,” he said. “I’ll be a good student, and spit you out after a handful a’ days.”

“DAYS?” Ace burst out.

Tock laughed.

“Seriously, man,” Ace was saying. “I have stuff to do. I gotta get outta here sooner than that. You can’t just keep me trapped in here, like I’m some moldy old snack you forgot in your backpack.”

“You put it so well,” Tock said, groaning happily as he caressed his belly.

“No way!” Ace wriggled inside him. “You know what? I’ll just do this, and this—” Sensations of shoving, splashing, and pinching came from inside Tock. Tock could barely feel them.

“And eventually,” Ace said, “you’re gonna feel real nasty, and you’ll have to barf me up.”

Tock could then inform Ace that a crocodile’s whole body was built to swallow, built to take food in and keep it there, so Ace would have no hope at making him even the slightest bit queasy.

All of Ace’s struggling, however, was making Tock’s stomach rumble and vibrate ever so pleasantly. What was a little concealment of the truth, when Ace’s foolish false convictions felt like this?

Tock hummed in quiet harmony with the low churning of his guts. It was so easy to drift off into a hazy torpor when he was this full, and even easier to settle into a deep sleep while he was digesting a large prey, as only his crocodile form could.

“Sweet dreams, Ace,” he muttered. “Do get some sleep. Don’t be too drowsy tomorrow, or else playin’ with you won’t be any fun.” Shifting his legs, he curled up closer around his bulky gut, and smacked his reptilian lips. “Thanks for bein’ such a tasty snack…”

#moray writes #safe vore #had so much fun with tock!!#also the flier text looked cooler in the PDF wscnskjfsdkns

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sinner-as-saint · 4 years ago

Text

my sweet love

Professor!reader x uni student!bucky

Run-through: You run into an ex-student of yours at a cozy pub. You immediately recognize him given he used to be the troublemaker of the batch. You two start a casual conversation, which ends with a certain confession; which then causes the night to take an interesting turn…

Themes: smut, fluff

You lifted your head up to look at who had just tapped you gently on the shoulder. You soon found yourself staring into a pair of blue eyes. Eyes which seemed so familiar.

“Oh my god! Bucky?” your jaw dropped a little, in surprise. Bucky smiled back at you, casually leaning in for a hug like you were an old friend, instead of his ex-professor.

“The one and only.” He beamed as he pulled away.

Bucky was one of those students whom you could never forget; he was always the loud one, the joker, the pretty boy all the girls secretly had a crush on and he pretended not to know. He was smart, but a bit of a pain sometimes - especially since he spent half his time flirting with you.

“Wow,” he eyed you up and down. “You didn’t change one bit. You’re still the gorgeous woman who stole my heart, I see.”

His words earned an eye roll out of you. “This again? Seriously?” you chuckled as you remembered all those times he complimented you without any hesitation. He even got you flowers for Valentine’s Day each year.

He fake gasped, pretending to be hurt. “You hurt me, woman. What do you mean ‘again’? I never stopped loving you.” he spoke, dramatically as he took a seat on the stool beside you at the counter.

You rolled your eyes at him and you couldn’t help but take in his appearance. Lose tie, dark blue button down shirt, slacks; it gave away that he was here after work. “You finally joined your father’s company, I see.” you noted as you remembered how much he used to complain about never wanting to work with his father ever in his life.

He smiled, remembering the same thing, “Yeah. Dad wanted to retire, so I volunteered to take over. You know, like a good son. Like a responsible, mature adult.” He gave you that same smile he used to give you back in uni whenever he said some stupid stuff just to get a reaction out of you.

You rolled your eyes and sighed. “You still haven’t changed.” You smiled back at him.

“You didn’t either.” He gave you a look which you couldn’t quite understand. But you would admit that he didn’t seem like he was the same man-child he used to be back in uni. “Let me buy you a drink.” He spoke again. You began refusing but then he stopped you with puppy eyes. “Oh come on, I met you after almost three years. I insist.”

“Okay. Just one drink.”

Three wines later, the two of you were still in deep conversations, laughing uncontrollably at all the funny anecdotes you shared of your time as his professor back in university.

He set his glass down after his final sip and turned to face you. The lights were dimmer than earlier, or maybe that was just the after effect of the wine. But the blue in his eyes stood out even more now. Or maybe that was because he had inched closer to you over the past hour.

“Do you remember that day when I gave you a ride home?” he asked.

You widened your eyes and chuckled, “Yeah and it was raining like hell, right? Some idiot slashed my tires, and I never found out who did it.”

Bucky chuckled quietly before biting his lip. “That idiot was me.” He waited for a reaction out of you, his heart racing. He calmed down only after you cracked a smile, which then turned into a laugh.

You shook your head at him, this was years ago and you weren’t mad anymore. “Why did you do that?” you were genuinely curious.

He sheepishly answered, “I just wanted to spend some time with you, go on a drive and you know…” he finished, embarrassed now that he was saying it out loud.

You pieced it all together. “So that bit where you got lost driving around in circles and blamed it on the rain and fog, that was all pretend?” you asked, he covered his face with both hands and nodded. You laughed again and it was the most adorable thing he had ever heard. “Why? Do you know how much trouble you caused me?” you shook your head, still surprised at his confession, yet something about it was adorable.

He removed his hands from his face and lifted an eyebrow, giving you his famous smirk, “I can make up for it, if you let me.” His tone changed, his voice suddenly sounding deeper.

“Bucky.” You said it like a playful warning. You knew what he meant.

He inched closer and casually twirled a lock of your hair around his finger. “What, I’ll be so good to you.” He looked up into your eyes, letting his eyes linger at your lips first, then giving you that puppy dog look.

“Stop it. Your puppy dog eyes don’t work on me anymore.” You smirked. You didn’t know exactly where this was heading, but for now, you were going with the flow.

He smirked back at you. “Does that imply that it worked in the past?”

“Bucky.” You used the same reprimanding tone as before.

He chuckled. “God, I still fucking love it when you use that tone on me.”

His words made you giggle. You took another look at him and smiled. He was adorable. You stopped yourself before eyeing him any longer. “It’s late, I should go.”

He grabbed your hand gently, holding it in his much larger, warm one. “I fell in love with you in my second year.” He said it, finally.

You chuckled. “Okay, that’s it.” You pulled your hand from his and stepped down from the stool and faced him with a genuine smile. “It was nice seeing you again. Make sure you get home safe, alright?” the professor in you added the last part, caring for anyone younger than you became a personality trait at this point.

You turned around to leave, and he followed you with a loud, dramatic groan. “Don’t walk away, I just proclaimed my love for you and you’re leaving me stranded and alone here? Come on,” he complained after you as you stepped out of the pub. You had a silly smile on your face the whole time, laughing at his silliness.

He caught up with you right outside the entrance of the pub, pulling you aside on the sidewalk. “Listen to me,” he grabbed you gently by the waist, pulling you closer. You would be lying if you said that this proximity did not give you any butterflies at all in your stomach. “I don’t know how to say this, but I feel things for you, I-,”

You cut him off, chuckling. “Bucky, what you feel is called an academic crush. We all went through it at some point, even I did. You need to calm down-,”

He cut you off again, leaning closer, smirking at first but then getting all defensive. “My poor little heart. How dare you just crush it like that, ma’am?” and he made you laugh again, you were beginning to feel just a little buzz from the wine.

You shook your head. “Go home Bucky.” you got out of his embrace and walked away, keeping an eye out for a cab. You found one rather quickly, and once you got inside the other door opened as well and it didn’t come off as a surprise when Bucky settled right beside you.

You rolled your eyes at him. “Now what, you’re gonna follow me home?”

He shrugged, “I found you after three years, I’m not letting you go. I don’t care if you make me sleep on your porch, I will-,”

You shut him up abruptly by placing a finger right on his lips. “Shh.” you giggled, the wine definitely giving you more than just a little buzz. “You are such a baby.” Bucky watched you in awe. He didn’t know where this was going either, but he liked it so far.

He didn’t lie when he said he fell for you in his second year. He remembers the day like it was yesterday. He was stressed out, late at night in the library on the eve of an exam. And he remembers how you walked in and found him struggling so you helped him out. He remembers how patient you were that night, and that was also the first time he behaved and actually paid attention to what you were saying. And he aced the exam. He realized that night that no one was ever going to be this kind and gentle, and attentive towards him. No one but you. And just like that, his heart fell for you.

While in the cab, he tried to hold your hand but you giggled and pushed him away each time. “Why do you hate me?” he asked, faking a frown.

“I don’t hate you.”

“Why don’t you love me back then? I’m good-looking, I’m funny, I’ve got a nice job and everything-,”

You cut him off, “Because I used to be your professor a couple of years back Bucky.” You laughed quietly at how he groaned loudly when you said that, throwing his head back against the seat and everything.

“This again, oh my God!” he groaned. “You used to be my professor. Past tense. Not anymore, and I really, really l-,”

You cut him off by telling the driver that you had reached your destination. Bucky sighed but still followed you out of the cab and into your home. “Woah,” he looked around. It was a lovely home which you were grateful enough to be able to afford so you just smiled back at him.

“Now what?” you asked, unintentionally smirking.

“What’s the hurry, ma’am?” he approached you and you rolled your eyes.

“Bucky…” you warned him again, playfully.

“Okay, I deserve at least one chance to prove myself.” he raised his eyebrows at you, trying to look like he was making sense.

You sighed. “You don’t have to prove anything. You’re a brilliant young man, and you-” he cut you off by leaning in and capturing your lips in a kiss.

Your mouth moved against his wonderfully, you felt him smile through the kiss as he pulled you closer. He placed his hands on either side of you, his torso pressing into you, you smiled through the kiss again. Your hands found their way into his hair and you lazily ran your fingers through his soft hair.

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you since the day I first saw you, you know that?” he whispered softly along your skin as he kissed, and bit down your neck and the side of your throat. You giggled in his arms, pushing him away playfully. But he came right back and held you even tighter. “Don’t push me away, not now.” he whispered in your ear and you found yourself shivering at the tone he used.

You felt something shift in the air; it was a pleasant shift. You could no longer ignore the sparks which flew in between the two of you. You pulled away just a little to look into his eyes and that was it - you stopped thinking and analyzing; you just did what felt right.

You found yourself leaning in again, and his lips met you halfway. You smiled into the kiss and tugged on his hair, gently but firmly as his tongue slipped into your mouth once again, slowly stroking the top of your mouth. Your lips moved perfectly together, Bucky nibbled on your lip and kissed your open mouth hungrily. His hand slipped under your top and he caressed your skin with his slightly cold hands; tracing imaginary shapes right under your boobs – most definitely leaving behind goose bumps where his fingers touched you so gently.

You let out a little moan, and you felt him smirk right after. He pulled away to look at you, a lovesick look on his face and lust in his eyes. Your lips parted as you gasped for air; breathless after his kiss.

“Bedroom?” you asked, and he chuckled, leaning in to kiss the side of your mouth. His soft lips pressed against your skin and your eyes fluttered shut.

“Nope,” he kissed along your jaw till he reached your ear where he whispered, “Your study.”

You let out a giggle. “What?”

He pulled away to look at you. “I’ve been fantasizing about fucking you on your desk.” His bluntness made you giggle. “Please let me.” he whispered in your ear again, making you shiver in anticipation and need.

Fuck…

Needless to say, once you gave him your approval; he rushed you upstairs. The two of you unable to keep your hands off each the whole time; stopping every two to three steps to pin the other to the wall and kissing each other like your life depended on it.

Once you made it to the study room, Bucky’s hands and lips were on you again, not letting go for even a second this time. He kissed you with ardor, a moan escaping your lips and you whimpered with need as his hand reached your lower back and stopped right on your ass, giving it a little squeeze. He smirked at your reaction and did it again while walking the two of you backwards until he sat you down on the edge of your desk.

He pulled away to look at you, “You okay?” he asked as he unbuttoned his shirt. Oh you were more than okay. You nodded at him, biting your lip and reached out and helped him unbutton his shirt faster. Bucky chuckled at your lack of patience and leaned in to kiss you again. Your hands found their way over to his toned chest, you traced his muscles with your finger tips and he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer. “I want you. Now.”

He leaned in for another kiss, this time slowly lifting your top up until he finally took it off and tossed it aside carelessly, leaving you in just your skirt. He inched closer, your bare skin touching and making you want to moan again. His lips slowly moved along your jaw and down to the side of your throat, leaving dark red marks behind on your skin.

You whined as he reached out and slipped his hand under your skirt, he ran his knuckles along your wet folds through your underwear, making you shudder at his mere touch. He smirked against your lips, “You’re dripping.” He commented, slowly sliding your underwear down. You moaned as you felt his fingertips gently trail down your legs, he eventually got down on his knees, spreading your thighs further apart.

He placed a kiss on your inner thigh and you gasped. He reached out with his two fingers and gently circled your clit, gathering your wetness from your folds and smearing it around. “Did I do that?” he asked, smirking. You threw your head back and moaned as he lazily toyed with your folds, knowing exactly where to touch you to get you going. “Answer me,” he whispered against your skin as he kissed up and down your thigh.

You looked down, bit your lip and let out a pathetic yes. He smirked and placed his hands on your thighs and spread your legs further apart and attached his lips to your core without a second thought; the lower half of his face completely submerged into your dripping core. You moaned out loud as you felt his warm mouth on top of your dripping core. His tongue slipped past your folds and teased your entrance; occasionally flicking your clit mercilessly.

Your hands immediately gripped his hair and tugged gently at his roots. Wet sounds erupted from where his mouth latched on to your core, and the sight was just as sinful. His tongue slowly circled your throbbing clit, parting your wet folds with ease. You were sure your arousal must have leaked onto the table by now. “So sweet…” he whispered and got back to assault your sensitive spot with his warm and wet tongue, relishing your taste.

Your taste drove him wild, so did your soft whimpers. He moaned as he ate you out. You whimpered under his touch, feeling his stubble rubbing against your soft skin; it burned a little, but you enjoyed each and every second of it and craved for more. His deep blue eyes watched you in awe and how you lost control under his touch; legs shaking as he teased your entrance with the tip of his tongue.

Your arousal drenched the lower half of his face as he ate you out relentlessly until you were nothing but a moaning, hot mess, squirming above him. He had been dreaming about this very moment since the day he first saw you. Part of him thought that he would never end up with you one day, but now that he had you, finally all to himself, he wasn’t planning on letting you go just yet.

“Fuck…” you moaned out loud; your eyes closing and your head tilting back as you felt a wave of intense pleasure wash over you. Your hand flew to his hair and you tugged on it gently as he flicked his tongue over your clit over and over again.

His intense blue eyes watched you in awe and how you lost control under his touch; legs shaking as he teased your entrance with the tip of his tongue. His hands wrapped around your thighs, securing you in his grip as he pushed his face further into you, making you cry out loud.

You came violently all over Bucky’s tongue, body shuddering and shaking while you moaned his name out loud. It gave him an unfamiliar, but pleasant rush when he heard your strained voice moan out his name. Oh he had dreamt of this so many times, but none of his dreams felt this good. He kissed your inner thighs and licked you clean before standing back up.

He smiled at you before gently pushing you back down on the table. Bucky leaned down and his mouth latched on to one of your nipples. He sucked on it gently as his teeth teased the bud and your back arched off the table in pleasure; whining. Your hands found their way into his hair and you tugged on his hair softly, making him groan. He kissed his way up to your neck once again as he aligned his cock to your core. You could feel his tip, leaking with precum, slightly pressing against your clit.

Slowly, he slipped inside of you, groaning at how tight you were. You felt his length stretching you out entirely. He panted as he started rocking in and out of you slowly. You moaned out loud, feeling all of him; stretching you, filling you up, moving rapidly in and out of you to the point where the only thing you could focus on was his body.

He hovered above you for a moment, looking down at you softly; watching you moan and squirm as you struggled to take his cock. “Does that feel good?” he stared deep into your eyes, his own filled with lust. “Yeah, you like my big cock inside your tight little cunt, don’t you?” he whispered against your lips, leaning in to just press his lips against yours.

He moaned out loud as he pulled out completely and pushed back into you, you gasped at how he filled you up and stretched you out. He kissed along your jaw. “I’ve been dreaming about this for so long, you have no idea.” He murmured into your ear. “Now I’m not gonna let you go until you cry from coming too hard around my cock, you hear me?”

You weren’t sure if you responded to that but regardless, he fucked you like an animal. “Fuck… you feel so good…” he whispered, pounding into you relentlessly, as he bent down to kiss your open mouth, swallowing all your moans and mewls in the process. You whined upon hearing the wet, slapping sounds your bodies made when they came in contact with one another. Mixed with his scent and the growls leaving his mouth, it was all too sinful.

“Look at me.” He stared down at you, his ocean blue eyes seemed even prettier in the dimmed room. You could only nod, unable to form coherent sentences while he pounded into you like he owned you. He leaned in again, kissing you softly. “Tell me who’s fucking you this good, huh?” he whispered against your lips.

You tried answering but it ended with a loud moan as his cock reached all the right places. He smirked and sped up into you again, relishing the feeling of you wrapped around him like you were made for it. Hearing you moan and squirm under him only encouraged him to thrust deeper into you, he wanted to feel all of you and he wanted you to feel all of him.

He was relentless.

He growled right in your ear as his body moved perfectly against yours. You whined; feeling a thin layer of sweat covering both your bodies as your walls milked him perfectly. A tear escaping your eye, out of pleasure. He was quick to wipe it away. He bent down and kissed your lips, pounding into you rapidly like his life depended on it.

Bucky felt you clench and tighten around him, “Come on, beautiful. Cum for me.” He whispered, his voice strained and raspy. Your mind was foggy by now, and it took your brain a few seconds to register and process his words. Not even a few moments later, you felt him twitch inside of you; his cock throbbing against your walls. He came with a growl, gripping your hips. You whined as you came around him as well. Swear words flowing out of your mouth like a chant as you felt his cum dripping out of you as he slowly slipped out of you. His body went limp and he fell in your arms. You felt his smirk against your neck as he kissed his way up to your lips again.

“So did I do good, ma’am?”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #professor!reader #student!bucky #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you

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deltas-writing-corner · 4 years ago

Text

Courtship: Respect

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland (Malleus x GN!reader)

Warnings: Mentions and depictions of smoking/tobacco usage

Next chapter | AO3 version

Slight revisions and full version posted on: 5/4/2021

The alarm clock on your phone is loud and annoying, but it’s the only sound that will wake you up without fail so you can get a head start on your more demanding days, like today.

Groggy and neck a bit strained, a sign that you’ve slept on it wrong, you carefully push yourself up and off your bed. You come across your first hurdle of the day. A few wolf cubs had settled on your chest and your sides during the night. You try carefully to move them off of you and to the side of their mother, who has settled near your feet and isn’t afraid to growl or snap her jaw should you even think of shifting or moving away from her. Unfortunately, the pups seem determined to stick by your side despite your efforts. Luckily the pack’s alpha, Gunter, is settled right behind your head and acted as your pillow for the night. He must be why your neck feels stiff as hell.

You reach back and start petting behind his ear, rubbing into the bunch of dotted scars beneath his coarse hair. You feel his body stretch and shake as he wakes up as well. A small whine comes out of him as he gives out an enormous yawn. It makes you yawn as well.

“Ready to start the day?” you whisper to him.

He huffs with a bit of attitude as if to say, “Not really, but what choice do I have?”

You redirect his attention to his pups, preventing you from sitting up without disturbing everyone else. With silent understanding, he removes himself from underneath your head and carefully steps over one of his brothers, who has graciously allowed you to use him as an armrest somewhere during the night. After another good morning stretch, Gunter begins the slow and steady process of picking the pups up from the scruffs off their necks and setting them elsewhere on your bed.

While he does this, you grab your phone and do a quick sweep of all your notifications. You have a few emails, one a weekly newsletter about current and future school events, most of it spam. You have a couple of dozen messages from Ace and Deuce detailing an argument over whether the former ate the latter’s piece of strawberry shortcake they were saving for after dinner. Apparently, they thought to ask you to be their mediator since it was clear they weren’t going anywhere arguing and pointing fingers back and forth at each other.

Unfortunately for them, they messaged you right after you conked out. You were exhausted yesterday, having to deal with an especially rambunctious and mischievous Grim. You were also scrambling to gather the reading materials needed for one of your classes before the other students can snag them. The most recent and urgent incident is figuring out what to do now that the only generator that powers up all of Ramshackle is going out or outright failing to even start up at all. You also have a decently sized garden to tend to, and the next large harvest is today. Once everything has been properly collected, washed, and either stored away in your pantry or given to Sam so he can sell and make a profit on your behalf and his own (it’s a 60/40 split and you had to fight tooth and nail for that 60), you have to replant everything once again after you’ve tilled the soil…

To say that there’s a lot on your plate is an understatement.

Free from your furry prison, you’re finally able to sit up and move your limbs freely. Something slightly damp presses against your bare shoulder, calling for your attention. Gunter, still clearly tired (expected of anyone, human or wolf, having to wake up at six o’clock in the morning), is now awaiting proper payment for his services.

“I got some dried venison in the kitchen,” you offer. The way his one good eye pops wide open and his tail begins to rapidly wag, the deer jerky will suffice.

You give the top of his head one last rub before standing up and heading straight for your bathroom to take a quick shower. Since the availability of electricity has been scarce lately, so is the availability of heating throughout the dorm. Unlike the ghosts, who can’t differentiate between hot and cold (unless it’s magically sourced), you can. Unlike the ghosts who are already dead, you will die in this late winter cold. Grim has better control of his blue flames compared to when you first met him, so he can now essentially be his own heater. He seemed a bit too comfortable keeping himself warm and letting you freeze to death, considering you’re the only reason he’s enrolled in this school.

You make do with what you have and your situation. Even when you gathered all the untorn and clean blankets and piled them on top of you last night, the cold still found its way underneath your cocoon. Gunter, the leader of a small bunch of wolves you had been taking care of during your first few weeks in Twisted Wonderland, must have seen you struggling to stave off the cold and settled himself next to you during the night followed by his brother, his sister, and finally Gunter’s mate and their pups.

Of course, with three full-grown wolves and four chubby wolf babies as your immediate heat sources, you overheated in no time and had to throw off all your covers and strip down to your underclothes in the middle of the night since your pajamas had quickly gotten soaked in sweat (and most definitely covered in their thick fur). A cold shower is just what you need to clean up after a long night drenched in sweat.

You also need to clean your sheets, but without electricity, your washer and dryer are out of order for the time being…

Dammit.

Cold showers suck, but once the ice-cold water hits your back, it woke you the hell up. You probably spent only five minutes in there before you quickly rinsed off and got out because of how unbearable the ice water was.

Once you’re properly toweled dried, you head to your closet and change. You put on clothes you don’t mind getting covered in dirt and sweat; a simple wool sweatshirt and some overalls lined with thick fleece. You also put on a pair of knitted crew socks and secure them to your leg with a pair of garters.

Right as you snap the final metal clasp on the knotted fabric, you feel a familiar bump on your shoulder. Gunter is giving you his best pleading face he can manage. Most people likely wouldn’t fall for it, what with the many scars littering across his body and face, making him look scary rather than cute. You feel a little tug in your heart. Luckily, you’re all dressed up and ready to start your day, so you quickly straighten up and usher him downstairs to give him his well-deserved treat. You grab your phone before you exit your room so you can peruse it on your way.

As you read over old texts and useless emails, a new notification comes in. It’s another message. As surprised as you are to receive a message so early in the morning (Ace and Deuce are likely still snoring and drooling into their pillows at this hour), it is the sender of the text that makes your slowed strides halt completely.

Good morning. I hope you had a pleasant and well-deserved night of rest. I’m currently getting ready to head over to the Ramshackle dorm to help you with your harvesting, as I promised. The coat you’ve made and gifted me during the holidays also fits perfectly and is by far the most comfortable piece of clothing I now own.

Thank you again for your most generous gift. I will inform you when I have arrived.

Yours truly,

Malleus Draconia

You can’t help but smack your palm on your forehead. You’re not annoyed or exasperated, it’s quite the opposite, actually. You’re happy that Malleus’s charm can somehow manifest even within a text message. In fact, this isn’t the first time he’s sent you a message formatted and written like a formal letter. If someone were to look at the small messaging history between you two, they’d see that a great majority of it is just Malleus sending you these long strings of text. They would also find your messages, or rather, your poor and embarrassing attempts at mimicking his language and style (he says he gets a laugh out of them, so maybe they’re as bad as you think). There’s also always a follow-up message, gently reminding and encouraging him to relax and not worry about offending you for speaking casually for you.

His response is always the same, and it makes your stomach feel strangely fuzzy.

You have earned my respect, now I must strive to earn yours.

It’s only been a little over a month since he dropped the bombshell that was his desire for your friendship to evolve into a proper, romantic relationship. To say it surprised you is another understatement. You were thoroughly flabbergasted once your mind finally registered his words as genuine. To hear him say ��I love you” and direct such a powerful statement towards you was truly the last thing you expected since arriving in this strange world.

But through all the outer uncertainties there was one thing you were certain of, your inner uncertainties. Malleus is a dear friend of yours. Even amongst Ace or Deuce, two individuals who have been with you since the beginning and nearly every overblot incident that has come your way, Malleus holds a special place in your heart as your dearest friend.

But a friend is all he’s ever been in your mind. There was truly never an instance where you pondered or even held some amount of desire or expectation that your friendship could evolve into something more. You felt like a total prick during the end of his confession, asking him if you could sit on his words for a while and come back to him when you have a more certain and final answer to give. Watching the hope and nervousness in his eyes turn into one of pure and utter sadness and even embarrassment, yet he willed himself to conceal his heartbroken emotions back for your sake. It hurt like hell. What was supposed to be an exciting and relaxing end-of-winter-break party in Scarabia’s dorm (and an apology party for Jamil’s actions against you), turned awkward. Neither of you stayed any longer once you went your separate ways.

Despite what had happened, when you received a proper smartphone (and a proper phone plan to boot) as a gift for Christmas, one of the first things you did was transfer all your old contacts into the new device. The first person you messaged was Malleus, wanting to check in on him after your last encounter and to wish him a happy holiday. He answered back in a matter of minutes, much to your surprise. While he’s not the most tech-savvy, your major concern was whether he was holding up well after what happened and if you guys were going to remain as friends. You went on a whole tangent, trying your best to not sound so desperate and ensure that your response is in no way his fault because it most certainly is not. If there’s anyone to blame, it’s you.

Gunter suddenly tenses up. His fur instinctually puffs out, trying to appear bigger in anticipation of whatever threat he’s detected in the kitchen. Metallic clanking and clashing come from underneath the kitchen island where you store all the pots, pans, and heavy-duty appliances. A loud and harsh crash riles up Gunter enough that he feels the need to growl at whatever is underneath the cupboard.

You quietly move past him and wave your arm, signaling him to move back a bit. He listens to your orders and takes a few slow steps back. You position yourself on the side of the cabinet, fingertips pressing onto the top of the door to prepare to open.

“On my mark,” you whisper to Gunter. “One... Two…Three!”

You yank the door open, and Gunter quickly launches himself towards the potential threat. Though, not a second passes before he’s suddenly skidding across the floor, trying to immediately halt himself. He barely avoids hitting his head against the wood and giving himself a nasty bruise. When you ask him what’s wrong, he sticks his head into the cabinet and pulls out the apparent intruder.

It’s Blossom, a young fawn you rescued from the rose gardens of the Heartslaybul dorm. It was during the preparation of the unbirthday party near the start of the school year that subsequently led to dorm leader Riddle’s overblot. Cater assigned Grimm, Ace, Deuce, and yourself to paint the roses red with him. On top of rose painting duty, Cater was also on the lookout for a supposed ‘rose thief’ who had been snagging some roses from their garden right from under their noses. The scoundrel they were looking for was the fawn before you. From the way he still wobbled on his feet, he wasn’t even a month old when you initially rescued him. He’s lucky you found him when you did. His front leg was caught in a rusted and dull, but full-sized bear trap they set up in case the thief was a wild animal.

“What are you doing in there?” you ask the little troublemaker. “Probably trying to find a snack to chew on, huh?”

Blossom thrashes, trying to break free from Gunter’s hold on his scruff. He of course fails, but not without giving out a distressed scream and trying to plead for forgiveness by giving you his best innocent look. You shake your head before looking up at the small clock hung up on the wall above the refrigerator. It runs on battery so you have to worry about the time no longer being correct when the house lacks power.

It’s 6:15, still way too early. You tell Gunter to let go of Blossom and he does it without argument. Blossom quickly runs up to you, using your own body as a foothold to jump up into your arms. Once you have a hold of him, he bombards your face with little licks and nuzzles of his snout. While this action is normal and you would gladly accept it, you know better than to think it’s not the fawn’s attempts at trying to distract you from his misdeed.

“If you’re looking for the sugared flower petals, you won’t have any luck down there,” you tell him. He immediately stops his loving ministrations and gives out a disappointingly snort before relaxing in your arms.

You chuckle and give him a few apologetic pets on the head as you walk over to one of the upper cupboards and rummage around the various jars, trying to locate the dried venison for Gunter. You also grab a jar placed far in the back with the aforementioned candied rose petals Blossom was most definitely looking for. The moment you open the jar and the heavy scent of sweetness and floral whiffs in the air, Blossom begins to excitedly thrash about in your arms and tries to stick his head into the container. Luckily, the small nubs on his head, his newly budding antlers, stop him from reaching too deep.

You spend the next few minutes feeding your companions their early morning treat. The doorbell rings as you let Blossom lick the last specks of sugar off of your now damp palm. After rinsing your hands off and drying them, you head to the door. You open it and take in the sight of a newly arrived Malleus, dressed in a simple black dress shirt and a pair of loose-fitting linen pants you made for him when he expressed discomfort over his PE uniform the last time he helped you in your garden.

“Good morning!” you greet him as brightly as you can without being too loud.

“A good morning to you as well,” he greets back. Unlike you, who is still groggy and slow, he seems properly energized despite the time. You’re jealous. You’ve been waking up at the crack of dawn for years, at least a decade now, yet your body isn’t used to the early routine. Though compared to the hundreds of years Malleus has on you, you probably won’t show any sign of improvement until your hairs are gray.

“Have you eaten yet?” Malleus asks.

You shake your head. “The electricity is out, so I can’t use the stove or open the fridge too often.”

“Crowley still hasn’t replaced your generator?”

“No,” you frown. “Every time I try to bring it up he either gives an outlandish excuse or just flat out tells me I don’t need a new one.”

His eyebrows pressed together, clearly upset as you are at the headmaster’s failure as your caretaker. You reassure him it’s fine. Everyone in the dorm has been saving money for emergencies like this, and it just so happens that the money you’ll make for selling the produce you collect today will bring in just enough to buy a brand new generator. You’ll be out of electricity for another week, two at most, but have enough firewood and nonperishable foods to last until then.

“You should at least make yourself some coffee,” Malleus urges. “It’s bad to work on an empty stomach. You've said so yourself.”

“I will once Grim and the ghosts wake up,” you reassure. “For now, let’s head to the back and get started. There’s a lot to harvest, so the sooner we start, the sooner we’ll finish up.”

He’s clearly unhappy at your dismal of his concerns. You know that being so nonchalant towards a fae is rude, but you don’t want to worry him with your own issues. You also have no desire to eat or drink, not this early in the morning at least. If you tell him as much, he’ll probably freak out like he did last time, thinking you were unwell and forcing you to lie in bed for the rest of the day.

Yes, you could have pushed back and argued that you were fine, but it’s very hard to tell him “no” when his intentions are purely out of concern for your well-being. Better to let him hover over you and see that you’re fine than to leave him stewing in his anxieties in silence.

“What have you been growing this season?” Malleus asks as he tugs on the loaned gardening gloves you handed him.

“The usual spread. Some potatoes, cabbage, and carrots. The only fresh additions I planted are some peas and kale. Oh, and broccoli!”

“Did the crops hold well when you were gone?”

“They did thanks to the ghosts. The heat from the fire faeries around the campus also made them easier to protect from the cold,” you explain. “I should probably give them some type of exotic wood as a little thank you gift.”

“You can never go wrong with a bit of mahogany,” Malleus says as he ties back his hair.

You hand him a straw hat, one that you weaved to accommodate for his black horns. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”

“Your welcome,” he smiles at you before turning back to your garden. “So where shall we start first?”

“I’ll work on picking the cabbage heads. You can cut off the pea pods and we’ll go from there.”

“Very well. I’ll follow your lead.”

It’s 8 a.m. You know this because Ace and Deuce are woken up at this hour by Riddle and one of the first things they do is bombard you with text messages which usually forces you to turn your phone on silent mode. Despite it being late winter, you’re already working up a sweat from the repetitive and demanding motions of picking and carrying around baskets full of vegetables and cleaning them. Malleus is no better, hand continuously raising to his face to wipe away the constant wetness clinging to his forehead. You know he’s not used to manual labor like you are, so you try to bring him a pail of water every so often so he can stay properly hydrated.

“Oh my, you’re already up?”

You turn around to see who’s speaking to you and see one of the ghosts that live with you and Grim in Ramshackle floating towards you.

“Good morning!” you greet him. “Did you need something?”

“No no,” he shakes his head. “I just came to check up on my bees and saw you already hard at work.”

The ghost (Franklin is his name, but you all call him Frankie for short by his insistence), affectionately ruffles your hair with his large white palm. He’s one of the tamer ghosts, but he’s still capable of pulling a prank on you or his fellow housemates now and then. You and he have been cultivating and maintaining a small beehive since October, but he does most of the work and maintenance since he has more experience in the ways of beekeeping than you from when he was alive.

Frankie does a quick once over of the garden, his scanning gaze doubling back at seeing Malleus carefully rinse a couple of heads of broccoli.

“How long has he been here?”

“Since 6:30,” you answer back. “Why?”

“No one gets up that early unless it’s for someone they fancy,” he says rather nonchalantly, but the way he quickly side-eyes you show that he’s clearly talking about you. You try your best to appear unaffected and give a “Is that right?” type of hum, but your efforts are in vain since he just laughs at you.

“If even you know, that means he’s got it bad.”

You say nothing back because you honestly don’t know what to say, or if you should. You’re content to just go back to plucking potatoes out from the ground, but Frankie doesn’t seem to want to leave you alone just yet. He asks you to come with him to the greenhouse where the hive is being kept. The small glass enclosure also houses some flowers and herbs you use for cooking or medicine.

You quickly close the door behind you once you enter, reveling in the warmer air that hits your face. While Frankie lights his cigar and gets a heavy cloud of smoke going (his personal method of keeping the bees calm), he has you open the top and carefully pull out the panels one by one while he checks for any signs of a decaying hive and ensures the queen is alive and healthy. One of your initial worries about beekeeping was getting stung, but Frankie reassured you it’ll only happen if you purposely upset the bees or fail to care for the hives consistently. Now, you gladly let the buzzing honeybees wander around your bare skin.

As Frankie pulls out his cigar from between his lips and taps off the ashes into the respective ashtray, he looks over at you and asks, “Is everything ok?”

You give him a confused expression as you snap the cover for the hive back into place. “I’m fine?”

“You sure? Because if you ask me, you don’t seem like it.”

“I mean, I already have a pile of schoolwork I need to finish and a rundown dorm to take care of. I’m as ok as anyone in my position can be-“

“I’m not talking about any of that,” he interrupts. “I’m talking about you. Forget about Grim and your studies. How are you doing?”

“I’m fine,” you answer again.

“Are you sure?”

Well, when he puts it that way, even he must be able to see that you’re clearly not doing alright. In fact, you haven’t been alright since you were literally kidnapped and held against your will in the Scarabia dorm. Luckily everything worked out fine for everyone else, but not so much for you. You’ve noticed that your appetite is waning and you wake up multiple times during the night because you don’t feel safe, even in your own room.

Malleus’s confession unfortunately was another wrench being thrown at you. With your hands already so full of this and that, you’re struggling to figure out what needs a priority and which issues you need to either drop entirely or find someone trustworthy to take care of it in your stead. It’s hard to ask people for help when they either find a convenient reason to say no or you feel as if you can’t trust them to do something as simple as watering your plants. The only person you feel you can trust and ask for help is Malleus, and things aren’t exactly as they were between the two of you.

“Talk to me kiddo,” Frankie prods. “What’s been eating at you?”

He lifts his ashtray and makes to snuff out his cigar so he can focus on speaking to you, but you hastily reach over and stop him. You take the smoke from him and bring it up to your lips and puff a few grey clouds. Strangely enough, it tastes rather pleasant, floral, and creamy. You didn’t expect to taste like this because of the way it smells, like soil that was just freshly rained on.

“Sorry,” you hand it back to him. “I haven’t eaten and I’m practically running on fumes.”

“That’s alright,” he says, handing it back to you. “You look like you need it more than me.”

Malleus carefully blows small bits of green fire onto his freezing fingertips, trying to warm them up after being drenched in the icy water from the water pump. He looks over his shoulder, over the stalks of peas, towards you. You’re still in the greenhouse and frantically moving your lips. He can see your eyes are glistening with a fresh layer of… tears? You don’t allow a single drop to get past your lids, wiping them just at the last second before they can pass over the threshold.

He’s only ever seen you cry one other time, when he came to your rescue in Scarabia over the break. He initially thought he frightened you with his aggressive display of magic. Once the dust settled and the blot on Jamil was expunged, no one was more shocked than he was when you boldly ran straight towards him and jumped into his arms. It was all he ever wanted, what his mind dreamed of every single time he closed his eyes. He could no longer brush off the fluttering in his stomach as the mere excitement of making and spending time with his first genuine friend. He was determined to keep his newfound affections for you with him under lock and key, not willing to risk ruining your close-knit friendship with his selfish and potentially one-sided desires.

Your desperate embrace, your toughie exterior lowering to that of a sniveling and shaking human, gave Malleus the impression that the only reason you would display such vulnerability before him was that you reciprocated his sentiments. It gave him a sense of confidence he never knew he was lacking, usually so sure of himself most other times. It made his chest burn with an aching desire to say “to hell with it all” and spill his heart right then and there.

When you extended the invitation you received from Kalim to him, he saw it as his proper opportunity to let his affections be known. He was upset (according to Lilia, more than usual) that he had to take Sebek and Silver along with him for the usual security, but he was determined to get them distracted long enough so he can pull you aside and confess to you without fear of interruption or letting his personal affairs be known to anyone else, at least, for as long as he can keep something so monumental under wraps.

As a prince, he has been taught to look at the long term for each of his decisions, as they carry substantial weight. The long term of pursuing a relationship with you meant having to deal with the prejudices and stigma against humans that still live within the hearts of his people. For once in his life, he didn’t want to think like an heir. As he watches you continue to talk to one of Ramshackle’s ghosts with increasing frustration, he realizes his love utterly blinded him back then. The only long-term his rose-tinted mind could comprehend was of the happy moments he had long conjured in his head becoming a reality.

You didn’t explicitly reject him, however; he knows your behavior well enough to know that once his feelings were laid bare before you, you would not take them into your arms and hand yours over in return. Arms crossed and avoidance of eye contact, you do this when you’re nervous or unsure, sometimes both. He held onto the self-indulgent hope that you’d show him what you look like when flustered. Perhaps you’d stutter?

You did stutter when you spoke up, but they were not the words that he wanted, that he thought he was, going to hear.

“Malleus...I’m so sorry…”

“Ah, you’re here early!”

“It’s just that…I don’t think I can…”

“Hey! Are you listening to me? You better not be ignoring me on purpose!”

“It’s not that I’m telling you I don’t feel the same way, but I can’t exactly say that I do. It’s just... I’ve never- “

“Tsu-no-ta-rou!” Grim’s shrill voice, still a bit riddled with drowsiness, still pierce Malleus’s eardrums and nearly causes him to drop the vegetable in his hand. “Pay attention to me when I’m speaking!”

“Quiet,” he growls at the monster. “If you need your master, they’re in the greenhouse. Though, you might want to come back another time.”

“Huh? Why’s that?”

Malleus lifts Grim from the back of his fuzzy robe (you must have made it and gifted it to him during the holidays) and points to you. Frankie has one of his translucent hands on your shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly now and then while he speaks. You were no longer wiping your face so furiously, allowing your tears to fall and drip off of your jaw and wet your shirt as you listened to your fellow dorm resident.

“What happened? Did you smash all the tomatoes again?” Grim cranes his neck to look at Malleus accusingly.

“No, I didn’t. Those are out of season.”

“Maybe it’s about what happened at Scarabia,” Grim muses. “They haven’t been sleepin’ too good since we came back, y’know?”

Malleus nearly drops the cat. “They haven’t?”

“Nah,” the cat answers, far too casually and dismissively for the fae’s liking.

“This is news to me,” Malleus says, almost whispering to himself. He’s sad, almost offended, at the fact that you haven’t told him you’ve been having some difficulties this whole time. You normally keep him up to date with your personal life. He’s even more offended once he realizes that you’ve been worrying and reassuring him that your friendship with him isn’t ruined after what’s happened.

There’s a small voice in the back of his mind, conniving and twisted, that feeds into his already prevalent belief that your unwillingness to share with him your personal problems anymore is a sign that he hasn’t earned your respect. It’s a ridiculous explanation, but no amount of reassuring from either you or himself is going to stop his Mind from asking such a multi-sided question. Surely, if you thought admirably of him, you’d continue to allow him to bear witness to your moments of weakness and vulnerability. He feels close to you, connected to you in a way he’s never felt. He can be slow and downright miss some references to your jokes and behavior. You always put on a face of understanding, but is he so lost that your patience has worn paper-thin?

Are his feelings for you truly one-sided? Is he still jumping to conclusions too soon and just needs to give you more time and space? Did he just set a course for a ruined friendship or could his hastiness have been a fruitful gamble?

If it’s not iron that kills him, it’s the uncertainty within his heart and mind.

A shrill whistle pierces through the air and Malleus’s eardrums. Grim hisses at the sudden noise and the hairs on his neck stand up. Even Frankie and you can hear and turn your heads towards the source despite still being in the middle of a conversation. The one who whistled was another one of the ghosts who live in Ramshackle. Johnathan is his name, usually shortened to Johnny. His sunken cheekbones make him look unassuming, but you’ve rightly warned Malleus never to turn your back on that one for too long. It’s a miracle that you can keep up with all their shenanigans.

“I got the generator to start up and made some coffee!” Johnny happily announces. “Come get it while it and the dorm are nice and warm!”

“I’ll have a cup or two, so long as there’s a ton of cream and sugar!” Grim says whilst smiling. “And I ain’t skimping this time on the sugar!”

“You better if you know what’s good for you,” you sternly say, now out of the greenhouse along with Frankie. “We’re short on sugar and I’m not stocking up till next weekend.”

“Whaaaat?!” Grim exclaims, his lower jaw almost reaching the floor. “Since when did you become such a cheapskate?”

Everyone, including Malleus, did a sharp intake of breath as soon as the words passed the cat’s mouth. Everyone turns their head towards you, awaiting your reaction to Grim’s comment. This isn’t the first time Grim has gotten lippy with you and, given his nature as a mischievous little monster (a common trait between Ramshackle’s residents, Malleus is now noticing), it won’t be his last no matter how badly you scare or pull a fast one under his clawed feet. Even when your face is all puffy and wet with semi-dried tears, the look of “oh you’re in it now” is still so panic-inducing to everyone, ghosts, and feline alike. To the sole Fae present, he thinks of you as nothing short of adorable and wants nothing more than to wipe your messy face clean.

“Well, if you want more sugar there is one way you can get some more.”

“W-W-What is it?” Grim says, pudgy body shaking and sinking into the comfort and small safety of his fuzzy robe.

You approach him and bend down to grab him by the back of his neck, lifting him so he’s at your eye level before deadpanning, “Get a job, Make some money, and then buy your own.”

Once you set Grim down, he scrambles back into the home with an almost comical amount of fear in his eyes. He screams about how he’s never getting a job even if it kills him and his continued determination to find the small money vault you have hidden around the dorm and spend it all on canned tuna. Johnny, Frankie, and you all give a unison chant of good luck to him before he disappears completely.

“Has he made any progress in his search?” Malleus asks.

“Our money vault isn’t even in the house, so no,” Johnny answers, resulting in you and Frankie cackling and high-five one another.

With the power back on, you announce that it was time for a well-deserved break. It’s your turn to make breakfast and you immediately begin to ask everyone for their preferences. Frankie cuts you off and insists he take over your duties for the day. You normally would protest and insist to whoever was offering to cover for you it wasn’t a problem for you at all. “I enjoy doing [insert chore], so it’s fine!” is your usual go-to reasoning, but not this time.

Malleus notices the way you make to protest as usual, but you quickly back down and just let Frankie go ahead inside to take over for you. In normal Ramshackle fashion, Frankie mentions the cigar you were puffing and waving around earlier and says that you owe him another one, particularly an artisanal one that he’s recently read about in the local newspaper and has been aching to try.

“You got any more highly specific goods you want me to fight tooth and nail for?” you sneer.

“No, just the cigar will do,” he says before turning around to head back inside. Before he can close the door behind him all the way he pulls it back and says, “If you get it sometime this week I’ll buy a new bag of sugar.”

You whisper an impressive string of curses under your breath. Malleus has to restrain the urge to laugh at your colorful vocabulary.

“In that case, I hope your schedule is free tomorrow night. I’ll have it by then.”

Frankie gives you a thumbs up before heading back inside. Once the door behind him clicks shut, you turn towards Malleus and he physically feels his body shift from somewhat relaxed to stiff and proper. You notice this and crinkle your nose a bit, something to do when you find something endearing or as a way of silently giggling. Malleus watches with such an unnecessary amount of focus as you reach up to adjust his straw hat and wipe a bit of dirt off the collar of his shirt.

“I’m sorry for leaving you hanging back there,” you say as you pick off a stray leaf that somehow got tangled in his dark locks. “I’m also sorry you had to see me crying like that. I’ve just been so tired lately.”

There it is again. That damn twisting ache right in his heart.

“It’s fine,” he reassures you. “But if it isn’t too rude of me to ask, is your lack of sleep really all that’s wrong with you?”

You give out a long sigh. “I’m guessing Grim told you a bit of what’s been happening since winter break?”

“He has.”

Your arms cross and the ground suddenly becomes more interesting. You’re unsure, but the way your eyebrows press together is a sign that you’re conflicted. Malleus feels his frostbitten hands accumulate a layer of sweat as you silently mull over your thoughts. Despite the pain and hesitance in his heart, he wills himself to grasp you by the arm and pull you into an awkward hug. He knows it’s not exactly what you might need at the moment, and he was fully preparing you to push him away. He’s relieved when you bring your arms around his torso and reciprocate the embrace.

“I’m tired,” you sigh

“You haven’t been resting well, so it makes sense.“

“No,” you shake your head, the tips of your hair tickling Malleus’s neck. “It’s not just a lack of sleep that’s making me feel exhausted. After what happened with Scarabia, especially with Jamil, I don’t feel safe anymore.”

“Are you afraid?” he asks. To think of you as fearful is an entirely foreign concept for him when you’ve only ever been confident and certain of yourself since the first time he met you.

“Yeah, I am,” you admit without skipping a beat.

Considering what you told him, Malleus thinks your fear is justified. You have no defense against magic…

He fills a strain in his neck as his entire body suddenly seized up. You notice this and pull away to ask him what’s wrong. “Nothing,” he quickly dismisses, but you don’t let him go silent on you.

“If,” he hesitates. He’s thinking too rashly already, yet he’s still so compelled to act upon his thoughts. “Should anyone attempt to do you harm, I swear upon my name and title that I will do whatever it takes to protect you.”

He means every word, but you seem to take it far too casually than he would have liked. You press your face against his shoulder and laugh against his skin, your breath bringing him some much-needed temporary warmth. Such an ordinary action, yet it causes another pang within his heart. It settles next to the one that arose before, but he bites his tongue and endures it for your sake.

“Maybe you could play that electric violin for whoever comes after me,” you jest.

As embarrassing as it is to hear that you know about that incident (he’ll have to reprimand Lilia for telling you about that), he can’t help but laugh along with you. If making a bunch of teenagers’ foam from the mouth amuses you, then so be it.

“Thank you for offering to get your hands dirty for my sake,” you say. “That’s one thing I respect about you. You take care of the people you care for.”

His body goes still once again. “Is that right?” is all his mind can wrap around and say.

“Yes, oh Wise and Great Lord Malleus. I do, in fact, respect you.”

He cringes at that title. It’s something he has heard Sebek try to enforce you to refer to Malleus as, which you never do purely so you can get a rise out of his loyal guard. Before he can ask you to never call him that again, a bunch of howl’s ring out, and the two of you pull away from each other. The wolf’s howling is usually a sign that food is ready, which you seem rather eager to get to as you interlock your arm with his and drag him inside with you.

He looks back at his basket of still dirty vegetables. “What about-“

“It’s alright! I’m not throwing a fuss over a few broccoli heads!”

Crispy bacon, over easy and scrambled eggs, and a mountain of sizzling hash browns. Once everyone grabs a plate and sits down at the dining table (Malleus sticks close to you, hoping he can sit next to you), they grab whatever pieces of food they want in whichever quantity. Somewhere in the next room over, a faint melody plays through the speaker of an old record player. The vintage singer has a rather cheeky attitude in her vocals but with the accompanying music, it all comes together harmoniously. It’s perfect for a rather excitable breakfast.

It seems you never told the ghosts too many details about your sudden disappearance during the break. You downplay the true extent of your dilemma as you willingly giving your time and effort to help a desperate Jamil figure out what was causing his normally kind dorm leader to have a sudden personality switch. The ghosts listen carefully, and as you gradually get to the big climax that is Jamil’s betrayal and overblot, followed by Malleus’s sudden appearance, they’re all practically hanging on the edge of their seats. Your tale even intrigues the wolves and Blossom. They gather and settle near the legs of your chair, ushering you to continue your story by whining and scratching your ankle.

You don’t exaggerate Malleus’s part in your tale, something he greatly appreciates. You tell them how things happened just as they did: Grey clouds suddenly covering the sky and the occasional peak of lightning through their fogginess. Just when it seems like Jamil has the upper hand and is going to put an end to Grim and you, as well as Jade, Floyd, and Azul of Octavinelle, Malleus appears out of nowhere and effortlessly zaps the blot right out of the vice dorm leader of Scarabia.

“That deserves some praise,” Benjamin, the third of your ghostly residents, raises his half-filled mug of coffee and extends it towards the middle of the table. “To Malleus!”

Everyone, including you and Grim, raises your glasses and repeats his chant. “To Malleus!”

“To me, I suppose,” Malleus half-heartedly raises his own cup. “It really wasn’t much effort, or any praise really.”

He catches you looking at him in his peripheral and he feels a lump form in this throat that he immediately swallows. “I simply did what I believed you would have done for me if our positions were reversed.”

“Well, you’re not wrong there,” you say after swallowing a hefty mouthful of scrambled eggs. “But it’s nice knowing you have my back. It makes me feel safe.”

“Safe?” Malleus is surprised to hear you say this, considering what you told him earlier. “I make you feel safe?”

Now it’s your turn to be surprised. “Y-Yeah. I guess you do.”

“You guess?”

“You do,” you say, more definitively this time. “I promise. If you didn’t you’d know.”

He can’t help but laugh. “I can only imagine what interacting with you would be like then.”

“Probably not that good, or not at all. I steer clear of people I don’t particularly like.”

His eyebrows raise in intrigue as he sips his now lukewarm coffee. “What makes you dislike someone?”

“I dislike people I have no respect for,” you say casually. Malleus thinks you might be joking or poking fun at him, but how you take the time to look up to him while you busy yourself with feeding Gunter a few bits of bacon clearly means you’re trying to tell him something secretly. It’s definitely something along the lines of, “I don’t know where this mindset of me not respecting you came from, but it’s a load of bullshit and you need to get that thought out of your head.”

Even within his head, your language is still so vulgar and blunt. Only you would talk to him in such a rude manner.

But he respects that part about you.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst malleus #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #twst writing #fanfic: courtship #reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #gender neutral reader

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dreamii-yume · 4 years ago

Note

food play with daddy trey

Hi! This is still the continuation of Trey’s Birthday Crumbs, despite the fact that it had already passed! ヽ(；▽；)ノ Something happened at Yume’s place that made her unable to finish the rest of his Birthday Crumbs in time so~! Hope you don’t mind if you receive it one day late! _:(´ཀ`」 ∠): I’ll be posting Birthday Crumbs that I was unable to post yesterday because I don’t want to settle for just one Birthday Crumb for Daddy Trey! (΄◉◞౪◟◉｀) im hornii

It started out as simple, childish game of who can smear icing over the other.

You, who thought it would be fun to slap a piece of delicious cake onto the birthday celebrant’s face, was laughing throughout, despite the look Trey had given you right after. Never did you ever thought that he’ll scoop out a piece himself and ran them down on your cheeks. Dumbfounded, of course, you thought it’s just best for you to steal back your honor and let’s just say it all goes down hill from there.

Thank god Riddle and the rest of the Heartslabyul students wasn’t anywhere near. If Ace and Deuce were there, it’ll turn out to be a literal food war with Cater filming all of it and probably uploading it to Magicam where the rest of the world can see the chaos that had befallen Trey’s birthday party. Of course, it would definitely end after the Dorm Leader himself had decapitated you all off your head, risking another comedic timing of an overblot. Luckily for the two of you, none was ever present, probably the reason why you chose this time of all time to play a prank on your senior. With a few wasted confectionery thrown here and there, the both of you had reached each other’s limit and ammo being the food.

Bursting into a fit of laughter, you fell down on the soft couch with Trey still straddling over your stomach, ready to paint your face with icing anytime. “You’re such troublesome kid, who do you think is gonna clean all this up, huh?” Trey raised an eyebrow as if to scold you like a parent to a child, but an amused smirk was on his face. He kept you locked underneath him even as you wriggle out, laughing with your sides hurting. “Riddle’s gonna cut off both our heads if he walks in with all these mess, you know~?”

“Haha~! Don’t blame it all on me! You’re the one who fought back, Trey-senpai” You argued, wiping the tears that had escaped the sides of your eyes whilst laughing like a mad man. “All I did was to poke a little icing on your handsome face and you went to slam a whole piece on me twice as much! Of course, it would turn out like this!”

Trey twitched slightly at the way you casually complimented his looks. “A little, you say~?” A slight vein popped out of his forehead, irritated by your lie as he remembered how that little piece of an icing had on basically knocked his glasses off the first time it landed. “Since when did you become so cheeky, huh?”

You shrugged, smiling ever so smugly, an action you rarely give and yet, Trey felt as if it’s an old friend he hadn’t seen in a while. “Who knows~?” You said, essentially ignoring his point before turning to the side and marvelling at the mess. “Uwah...This will take forever...”

As you were distracted trying to come up with ways to clean the room faster, Trey began to realize his current position. Hovering above you with your body placed between his legs on the couch, his hands supporting his weight so he doesn’t fall off. What a suggestive position and yet, you’re so relaxed and laid-back about it, as this was the most normal position to be in. Almost like you’re not being held down by a guy who can eat you up if he so desires.

With all those icing all over your face, neck, arms, and even thighs, it’s possible, you’re not making yourself any more safer here. Trey glanced down at your body, your shirt were slightly hitched up, showing your soft-looking abdomen. He gulped, any skin exposed on you was making him unusually hungry, like he just wants to take a bite out of you. “Ah, by the way, Trey-senpai, could you please get off now? You’re getting a little-“ You turned back to Trey, only for him to lean in close to your face and licked some icing on your cheeks, like a wild animal. “...heavy...”

“W-What!?” You exclaimed as you began to panic in your spot, moving excessively until Trey gripped your shoulders down. You blushed profusely as he began to go down where you neck is and shivered as you can feel his tongue lapping against your skin. “A-Ah...! T-Trey-senpai...!?”

One of his hand went down, causing you to let out a squeak as you felt how cold it is once it went underneath your shirt, caressing your stomach. Trey finally lifted his head up, his eyes carrying an air of seduction in them. “Sorry, you look so appetizing that I got a bit hungry, you see...” He said, making you blink in confusion as you began to process what that means. He sat up, still won’t leave from his position of being above you with a smirk that never seem to disappear from his face. “But since you’re the one who started all of this...”

“I’ll have you take responsibility for it.” He finished as he pulled up your shirt, exposing your bare torso.

“Eek...!?” You sqeaked in response, automatically clenching on the sofa sheets. Nervous sweat poured out of your pores as you looked up at Trey. “H-Hey...? Trey-senpai, um...”

Reaching out for something beyond your vision, Trey holds out his hand, showing you what seems to be a fair bottle size of honey. You blinked, was that there the whole time or...? You have no idea on where he got that from. As you racked your mind trying to figure on what he was going to do with the bottle, a shiver went up your spine as he began to drizzle some on your bare skin of your stomach. “Trey-senpai!?” You called out again, shifting as he began to spread the sticky substance everywhere he could.

“Come on, I’m not doing anything bad~” He said as he suddenly buried his sticky fingers inside your mouth, earning a muffled whine. He pinched your tongue, forcing your taste buds to taste the sweet liquid. “Honey is good for you.”

You accidentally moaned under his touch, causing a small but smug smile to appear on your senior face but chose to not say anything. Instead, he went to focus back down on your honey-covered abdomen. Sticking out his tongue, he gave it a long sensual lick, enjoying how you practically melt under his touch. You kept on letting out muffled noises as his fingers kept on digging against his throat, spreading the flavor inside your little cavern. Though, you did found your own tongue unconsciously lapping up his fingers, unable to resist the sweet taste of honey from them.

Trey kept on licking you up until there were no more honey left on you, just his own saliva marking you the same spot on where you are. His fingers teased your tongue, enjoying the little whining sounds you make as you struggled underneath him. Licking his lips, he looked up at you before pulling his fingers out, smirking at how flushed you look. “...Well? Are you not gonna fight back~?” Trey raised his eyebrow, a sign of challenge, provoking your ability to act. “It felt and tasted good, didn’t it?”

You glared at him slightly, pouting at how arrogant he looked, but were too dumbfounded to even reply an equally smart comment. Seeing how lost you are for words, Trey chuckled before grinning in victory. “Maybe next time, don’t play with your food, okay?” He said, surprising you as he hoisted your bra upwards, revealing how perked your nipples are. You gasped as he sticky hands grasped one plum breast, moaning as he entangled your nipple around his fingers. He gave the other a fine lick, making them harder by coating them around with his own saliva. “...Because this is what happens to bad kids like you who do.”

You reminded yourself not to take Trey-senpai lightly anymore from that point on. Unless you want to be mistaken as a delicious cake that everyone wants to feast on at least. Everything this guy said should not be taken too seriously nor too lightly, a valuable lesson has been taught...In the hard way.

Haha! Yume doesn’t know how to food play lol I haven’t written anything for it but I thought it’s really interesting to write about it! Little research was done on this so I know how much it reeks of inexperience! (//∇//) Sorry about that~! I’ll promise to improve someday~!

#twisted wonderland #trey clover #Birthday Crumbs (Trey)

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uwua3 · 4 years ago

Note

hello hello would it be okay to ask for some fluffy and romantic headcanons for tenma with a childhood s/o? they were both in the entertainment industry, but s/o is now playing music in a band (like bang dream!) thank you thank you!

hi anon~ of course!!! 🥺 i never actually got into rhythm beat games because i simply Lack The Talent to play them T___T please excuse me if i say anything wrong~

summary: tenma promised he’d perform with you at your first stadium show, but will he keep his word?

warnings: unhealthy/strict parents

author’s note: i incorporated So Much Stan Twt culture in this, i swear. please look forward to fanboy! tenma and this super cliché, cute headcanon with you as tenma’s first friend/crush!!! sunshine x sunflower couple rise up ♡ this may be slightly ooc + i used poppin’ party’s sunflower dreams lyrics towards the end!!!

word count: 6,795

music: sunflower dreams – poppin’ party

sunflower dreams!

🌻☀️ sumeragi tenma

you were born to be on stage

tenma remembered thinking that the first time he saw you singing into that off mic, absolutely living out your idol dreams in that music room with a guitar much too big for your tiny kid self

you and tenma were about eight years old, and that was the first time he had a crush on anyone before

it was elementary. tenma was already recognized country wide, he was the it child star of the decade, his fame catapulted him to great success early on with two acting parents in the entertainment business

but, why didn’t he have friends, then?

everyone he talked to as a child suddenly didn’t look at him the next day. every time tenma asked his parents, it was always the same answer: “they’ll do nothing for your career, focus on acting”

so when he found you sneaking into the music classroom and stealing one of the teacher’s guitars to use, strumming even if you didn’t know any notes, tenma hid behind the door as he listened

you had a voice made for stardom. you sang like you were performing for a stadium of thousands of fans, you did it confidently as if you’ve been in the industry for years, and you jumped around like this was the last song of your life

you loved music, and before you knew it, tenma became your first and biggest fan. he arrived at the same time everyday after school to sit outside the music practice room and hear you sing again

eight–year–old tenma didn’t know why he lied to his parents, claiming he was just catching up on schoolwork due to his acting career. his grades didn’t change, but it didn’t matter when he got to hide in the corner of the corridor and push his short frame to the ledge of the window to see you playing the guitar

one day, tenma was back again in his usual spot, standing on his tippy–toes to peek into the classroom as always, knowing he was in for a show for the next hour or so before his driver picked him up

it was supposed to be another regular one–man concert all for himself, where he applauded silently for the aspiring musician. but, as you were singing a song you had practiced for a while now, your eyes met his mid–strum of the guitar

you stumbled on your notes and fell silent, eyes wide at the bright orange hair that disappeared behind the wall instantly. before you could react, you heard the squeak of sneakers against the floor as a blur of the school uniform ran past the door and away into the hall

you recognized that face immediately, who wouldn’t? sumeragi tenma was the most popular elementary student ever in the district despite always being alone. you contemplatively stared at the spot where tenma hid, wondering how long he had always been there.

it was the next day and tenma was hesitant, nervousness taking over as his face flushed from yesterday’s events. he was so careless, he couldn’t believe he let himself be discovered like that! tenma rubbed his face, groaning with the stress of an adult as he stood at the entrance of the music hallway

it’s not like he could go anywhere else without getting in trouble, so here he was, returning to visit the school’s secret singer because he wanted to hear the music. but, he seemed like a stalker! tenma swore he just wanted to hear guitar (he pretended like you weren’t his first crush)

before tenma could become chicken and run away from the confrontation, he heard a few familiar notes before you began singing. the recognition kicked in as tenma creeped closer, poking his head around the open door frame with a curious look as you stood dancing around in the middle of the room, already smiling at him

you were singing the ost of the latest drama he was in!

did you learn it just for him? tenma was about to ask, but you ran over, not letting him get away this time as you tossed him a fake mic (which he embarrassingly almost didn’t catch)

were you asking for a duet? your guitar skills had gotten much better over time, in fact, little tenma couldn’t tell the difference between you and the professional who originally played it! tenma felt himself get into the music as you dragged him to the center, giving him an opening to join

tenma took it, and before you two knew it, there was no need to exchange any words as you two sang your heart out without any care in the world to the pop ost

for once in his life, tenma felt like this was what it was like having a friend! he always had those on screen, but this felt real. like, these were the childhood memories he always had to act out for the camera, just yelling lyrics loudly surrounded by instruments and a friend who learned his ost just to make him happy!

out of breath, tenma panted as you played the final notes, letting it hang in the air as the incoming warm air entered through the open windows. you two’s shadows struck final idol poses, like you were actually on stage

a moment of silence passed before you grinned, yelling a celebratory “yes!” as you held your hand out for a high five. tenma just weakly put his palm against yours, trying not to blush from the contact (was this what it was like, holding your hand?)

“dude, we need to start a band!” you exclaimed, not even looking tired as tenma wiped the sweat from his forehead with a grimance. maybe not the right decision if he didn’t have the stamina to be a chart–topping singer

“i... i don’t play any instruments—” tenma started shyly, wringing his hands together before you shook your head rapidly, putting your hands on your hips with an exasperated expression

“but we’re friends!” you insisted, not giving him time to answer as you threw him another water bottle (you had brought an extra, hoping tenma would come by again)

tenma stared at you, shocked as he gripped the water bottle between his small hands. friends? already? was... was this tenma’s first real friend? and his first band, apparently?

you rearranged your items, setting up your music sheets as you quickly glanced over the notes. you could sight read, and you learned it all by yourself, you were so talented, but you wanted to be friends with him?

when you lifted your head with a bright grin, passion within your eyes for music, tenma nodded with determination as he tightened his grip on the bottle. it was his first gift from his first friend

“yeah, we’re friends! let’s do it!” tenma said, watching as you cheered again and confidently high–fiving you this time (last second, you switched your hand to a fist and called it a ‘turkey’. whatever that was)

and that, was the start of the two–man duo band as tenma made his first friend (and crush)

you two grew up together, with tenma prospering in his fame as a multitalented child prodigy

despite his hard–earned popularity as an actor, tenma was never ever late to band practice! you two came to the unlocked music room every day after school, with props as microphones and animatedly daydreaming about stage costumes and the feeling of the lights upon your glowing faces

“do you ever dream about being on stage, ten?” you’d ask, gazing out at the sunset as you fiddled around with the drumsticks, attempting to pick up the beat as your eyes flickered from the orange sky to the worn down drums. tenma would just shrug, laying on the floor after a particularly hard song as he lazily strummed your favorite guitar

(this explained the callouses on your fingers despite being so young, you had rougher hands than him)

“i don’t know, i’m already on t.v.” tenma would justify, just staring at the ceiling as he’d watch the shadows of the trees outside against the surface. these were the moments he remembered the most, where you two took a break from the music and talked endlessly until it was time to go home

“i mean, it’s all scripted, right?” you asked, satisfied as you put your sticks down after finally acing that one technique you struggled with. tenma unstrapped the guitar and rolled to his side, propping his head up with his arm as he considered your question

“yeah... i guess it is.” tenma figured, about to go back to play with the strings before you landed next to him, facing him in the same position as you smiled

you always had that smile whenever you ranted about your ‘big break’, your rise to stardom and dreams to be the #1 global singer in the world (tenma never brought you down to earth, not even for a second)

“on t.v., you can just edit it out, right? but on stage, it’s all live. if i make a mistake, everyone knows.” you furrowed your eyebrows, looking too serious for a young child as you looked past him, as if you were imagining what could go wrong

before tenma could snap you out of it, your eyes landed back on him and you giggled, flopping onto your back as you put your arms across your chest

“that’s what’s so exciting about the stage, ten. every time i go out there, i’m always gonna do my best! i’m gonna be the best performer on the whole entire planet!” you suddenly jumped up, acting out your idol persona as you faked holding a mic, striking your iconic pose you had perfected over time

(tenma just stared up at you, wondering why you shined so much in the light. he wanted to see you under stage lights, though. if you glowed this much now, you would be blinding in front of a crowd)

“and you’ll be with me!” you pointed your invisible mic at tenma as he smiled, not considering any other future as he pushed himself up with his own mic

“i’ll be on stage with you forever!” tenma guarenteed, performing your complex secret handshake as you two made explosion sounds at the end, pretending to fall back from the boom

“come on, let’s practice for when our first show comes!” you ended break time as you took your guitar back. tenma kicked back on the keyboard, not knowing a thing about it but wanting to try his best for you

as you two rocked on, tenma knew you two had were beyond any battle of the bands competition. you two were unstoppable, you two would sell out arenas and pose for the papparazzi together, you two would perform together!

or at least, that’s what tenma thought before one day, his parents came to pick him up

when his famous, high–standard, professional parents arrived to surprise him, they didn’t expect to search the building with a teacher who had no idea she was tutoring him. when they heard the loud singing, all they had to do was coldly glare at their son to make tenma quiet down and obediently follow them to the car

“sumeragi tenma, we raised you better than this. we’ve given you the perfect life, how could you lie to us?!” tenma’s mother cursed, grabbing his hair once they were out of sight of any witnesses. tenma flinched as his parents dragged him to the car, looking back to see you had ran to the entrance with wide eyes

“wait!” you insisted, catching up with his parents with a stubborn expression, holding onto tenma’s blazer sleeve and staring tenma’s father right in his strict face (tenma wished he was as brave and cool as you)

“get off, kid.” tenma’s father spat out, trying to shake you off as tenma kept his head down, attempting not to cry as he bunched his hands into fists. he pretended like this was just some scene, he had to keep his emotions in check behind a mask. he was raised to act like the best son

“no! tenma’s my friend!” you declared and tenma whipped his head up, staring at you with a sad smile as his father scoffed, prying your tight fingers off tenma’s school uniform as you stumbled back. when you hit the ground and sat up, tenma almost escaped his parents’ clutches as he called your name, being shoved into the backseat against his will

“tenma’s not friends with nobodies.” tenma’s father laughed maliciously, slamming the door closed as the family car swerved out of the parking lot

as you put your hand down from blocking the dust, you helplessly watched as tenma performed his end of the secret handshake as he faded into the distance. you stood back up, brushed down your uniform, and made your way back to the music room with tears in your eyes

you were going to be the best lead singer in the world, and tenma was going to sit front row for every show. tenma was gonna be your friend forever

(even if he mysteriously transferred schools the next day)

you began auditions to be involved in the entertainment industry as well

you wanted to be famous just like tenma, if you had become as popular and talented, maybe his parents would let you keep seeing him

entering middle school, you dedicated all your time to improving as an artist outside of your academic studies and transforming the abandoned elementary music room into your practice area

you practiced everyday until your throat was sore, you snuck into the local theatre stage and pretended like it was your concert, you tried to master every instrument that was available to you (though, you never forgot about your original guitar) just to become famous

it wasn’t until you gained your second fan, that your band took off

it was midway through middle school, after countless failed auditions for entertainment companies, that you turned and saw someone hiding in the same spot tenma claimed all those years ago. you blinked, but instead of an orange hue, you found a future bandmate who was just as enthusiastic about music as you

slowly but surely, your band became special to five students as their bond strengthened the core of your group: NATSU-mmer!

(the name flowed naturally since your group’s energetic, poppy, bright music became your image and was a happiness boost for anyone who listened)

although you guys weren’t experienced, your crazy energy and unbreakable friendship sold you to the public as your online covers and self–composed tracks became viral hits over time

you were on guitar and vocals with the support of more guitar, drums, keyboard, and tambourine! as you five practiced until the end of the day, your dedication and passion to music shined as you became famous as the lead singer of NATSU-mmer!

as years passed, you kept tabs on tenma every now and then. you would binge every show he was on, even if he had a minor background role, and couldn’t believe this was the same boy who sang proudly in the afternoon sun like it was a spotlight

tenma was older now, but he still had the same arrogant smirk he wore when he got competitive about beating other bands or who could shriek the highest note. he still had the same orange hair you noticed that one day from behind the window and he still acted like he was the best (maybe, because he was to you)

although you always answered his name when asked who your favorite actor was, you never told anyone your history with him. it felt almost too personal to say anything, when your friendship with him was still close to your heart and would always be associated with those practices after school

you respected his privacy and let him be, knowing damn well you wouldn’t have made it this far without his absence pushing you to be the best possible

(when asked about why you began singing and becoming the leader of your band, you never mentioned the truth: how you wanted to become famous to be tenma’s friend again)

although you two were both now in the entertainment industry, you never reached out to him again because it felt like acting and music was in two different worlds. as tenma dominated the billboards and popularity ratings in magazines, you strummed your guitar and sang with all your heart to your fanbase on stage

you forgot about the promise you had with tenma, until it was time

NATSU-mmer was having its first stadium show as an anniversary gift to the fans, selling out within minutes as you were processing the news. your bandmates screamed around you, jumping up and down as they loudly discussed how this was an once–in–a–lifetime opportunity

you smiled, but you had a distant look in your eyes. you were remembering tenma, even though he hadn’t crossed your mind in months, with the pressure and business of rehearsals and concerts and all that

it was nearing summer, you two were on break again after tenma’s voice cracked from a tune. you did your best not to laugh as you two sat on the desks, staring out at the sunset nearing in silence, just the sound of you two’s slightly heavy breathing from the work out

“do you think we’ll ever become big, ten?” you asked innocently, always talking about your dreams together as if tenma wasn’t a renowned actor already. tenma didn’t answer right away, resting his face against the window pane on his folded arms as he blew a strand of hair out of his face

“i don’t know, my parents want me to become a famous actor.” tenma sighed and you laughed, nudging him slightly with your elbow

“you’re already famous, ten! that’s why i call you ten, because you’re a 10/10 in every review!” you brought up again as tenma laughed with you, finding the whole situation funny for no reason

“yeah, but an even bigger actor. i’m gonna win best lead actor in every country.” tenma huffed, puffing his chest out like he was those big hotshot teen “heart–throb” actors while flexing his non–existent muscles

“and i’m gonna win every music award show trophy!” you added and tenma nodded, like he was so sure these were your fates. like nothing could change, like it was a matter of fact

“you will...” tenma trailed off, suddenly thinking about something. before you could ask, he fully turned his body towards you as he grinned, holding his pinky out

“but really, once you get that stadium, imma be front row and center!” tenma promised and you looped your finger around his, believing in him 100%

“no, you’ll be backstage! or better yet, on stage with me!” you fantasized as you two dreamily imagined it, shaking your pinkies before letting go with a secret promise you could never break

“we should spit shake.” tenma spat in his hand as you shrieked, ranting about how gross he was as he chased after you like every annoying little boy did. your laughter faded in your memory as you remembered the promise you and tenma made that day

“ten, it’s my first stadium show.” you whispered under your breath, not noticing the sunset outside the practice room

tenma sometimes wondered what would’ve happened if he ended up in a band with you. by no means was he idol material, but at night, he liked to lay down and stare at the ceiling, in the same position whenever he needed to cool down after practice

he had forgotten your name at this point, overwhelmed and exhausted from his acting career and lack of childhood that he had to skip over. from the scarce memories of his youth, all he could distinguish between the blurs was your face grinning happily at him as you jumped in the air with your guitar

(and something about how rough your hands were against his own)

all tenma knew was that he wanted to be on stage with you, and his younger self would’ve done anything to do so

tenma continued acting, forgetting all about his dream to be in a two–man band with you and kept his roles to the camera, skyrocketing into fame faster than anyone before him and staying in the limelight

in a way, both of you had accomplished your dream, just not together

tenma had joined mankai company, to the shock of every media outlet ever. the starlet had overcome his fear of making mistakes, he remembered clearly before he went onto the theatre stage for water me! the first time, a young voice echoed in his ears

“that’s what’s so exciting about the stage, ten. every time i go out there, i’m always gonna do my best! i’m gonna be the best performer on the whole entire planet!”

tenma remembered seeing your face clearly for the first time in a while, remembering every detail of your childhood self as he bunched his two hands into fists, staring at the spotlight upon the stage with the same determination he had when you two became friends

“i’m going to do my best.” tenma said and the rest was left on the stage until closing night

adjusting to mankai was a process. growing up with no true friends, both in school and in the entertainment industry, had surprisingly taken a toll on his behavior without him realizing it. to mankai, he wasn’t the famous star tenma, he was just the really not–put–together teen who wanted to take care of his bonsai in peace

so this is what having friends is like, tenma once thought as he glanced upon the entourage. it was the last time he truly remembered your friendship before he moved on, hoping one day he’d see you someday again

it wasn’t until he happened upon kazunari and misumi’s hanging out session that he was struck with memory of your name

the two were excitedly talking to one another, kazunari rapidly tapping on his phone screen and holding it up to misumi’s attentive face. tenma was about to walk away from the everyday meet–up before kazunari hyped up some group, letting a music video blast from his speaker

over the exaggerated “wow~ that’s a triangle!”, tenma stopped dead in his tracks as he heard a strong, enthusiastic voice belt out a familiar lyric. tenma jumped over to kazunari on the sofa, grabbing both his shoulders with desperation. misumi even paused the video to stare at tenma with shock

“who’s singing this?!” tenma rushed out as kazunari just grinned, finding nothing wrong with being trampled by his troupe leader

“ah! tenten~ are you interested, too?! it’s NATSU-mmer, i was thinking to ask them to sing our next play theme!” kazunari joked before misumi tugged him out of tenma’s grip. as the two went back to watching, tenma repeated the band name multiple times before running to his room and slamming the door

“what the hell do you—” yuki started, looking up from his sewing machine before tenma threw himself onto his bed, fumbling for his phone as he began typing something. tenma paused, zooming in on a group photo before dropping his phone

“THAT’S MY FRIEND!” tenma yelled, swiping through the photos as he finally recognized your name. it was you, the guitarist soloist back in elementary who was his first friend. you had done it, you actually became a full blown band leader who was rising in popularity. he was right in not questioning your dreams

yuki leaned his chair back to sneak a glance at the screen, furrowing his eyebrows as he stared at tenma with disbelief

saying your name, yuki scoffed as he crossed his arms, “the lead vocal of NATSU-mmer, one of the most popular bands in japan right now, is your friend? yeah, right.”

tenma furiously shook his head, sitting up and launching into the full story he didn’t even know he remembered about how you were his bandmate in elementary. yuki barely listened, but got the gist of the tale as he pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh

“you’re telling me... you grew up with NATSU-mmer’s powerhouse vocalist... and you didn’t even know?!”

tenma sheepishly kicked at the floor, rubbing the back of his neck with an awkward laugh

“maybe?”

(tenma yelped when yuki threw a pillow at his dumb face with perfect aim)

turns out, everyone in mankai had either known of NATSU-mmer or were huge fans, there was no in between. most of the high schoolers actively followed your band account across multiple platforms, gushing about your performances and how you were a fresh group that came from nothing

the university students knew an album or two, the adults mainly had an idea, and matsukawa even sang along to their songs this entire time! tenma was the last person to find out who your group even was (he was out of the loop all the time)

now that he knew, he was becoming aware of how prominent you had always been in his life. yuki took fashion inspiration from your stage outfits for the plays (they were as spectacular as he remembered imagining them), kazunari kept repeating your title tracks during breaks at practice to keep the mood up (tenma stopped telling him to turn it off), muku’s favorite anime he watched at night had an ost sang by you (tenma listened to it every night through the walls), misumi even pointed out the five people in your band formed a triangle when you all did a group photo (tenma guessed he was onto something, he noticed you were always at the center)

it was like you were still his friend, after all this time, still apart of his life despite the distance

because of this, tenma remained your biggest fan of all time. at first, he intended to follow your music casually, but after going down a rabbit hole of videos (such as interviews, streamed concerts/events, even fan–edited videos of your cute/funny moments or “meet NATSU-mmer” style of “crack edits”), tenma would consider himself a proud “sunflower”

(it was ironic that was your fanbase’s name, because he called you that after you got your first official guitar and you two painted sunflowers on the surface. in a way, he stayed in your life too, since you were both each other’s sunflower and sunshine)

tenma even made a stan twitter account for you! he made it with no intention to dm other sunflowers, but he turned on notifications for your band’s sns and replied to your posts with encouraging messages and reminders to take care of yourself

(he became known in the fandom as “ten”, the sunflower who was practically in love with you) (his icon was always you)

(tenma even bought merch with his own money. yes, he had a jersey with your birth year and last name, tenma admitted from his “early stan” days) (his home screen was a hq fansite picture of you holding a microphone towards the camera, as if you were still inviting him to sing along after all these years)

(he also somehow got roped into downloading your beat rhythm game, knowing you probably crushed all the levels as he struggled with beginner’s) (he got distracted by your voice singing in the background)

(one time, you had a live ig q&a and when you answered his question by saying his username “summerten”, he nearly fell over from excitement) (yuki had to kick him to shut tenma up with his internal freak–out)

tenma’s favorite thing to do as a stan was to watch your performances as if he was there. he had bought your group’s lightstick (a sunflower with spinning petals, how cute!), shaking it in front of his laptop screen and posting pictures with the “TT” sad emoticon

(summerten: TT just want to go to a concert so bad ~ 14 likes)

you were the same as you were before back in elementary. you still danced and sang with all the energy in the world, with uncontainable excitement to be doing what you love and your raw honest personality with your fans was admirable. you were open and the perfect idol since you were so passionate and uplifting with your self–produced/written music

you took the stage by storm, acting like it was your own and wildly playing your guitar like it was your last. you still had the same electric smile and sunny happiness, of course you had become famous for being in a band, you were born to be a star

present day, tenma was practicing his lines with the rest of the summer troupe before his phone buzzed in his pocket, making him automatically check it as summer snickered about his obsession with NATSU-mmer (only yuki really knew why as he refused to tell anybody else, just claiming it was teenage boy hormones)

tenma’s face paled and he looked like he was about to pass out. before anyone could ask, tenma sprinted out of the practice room with an urgent stride to his steps

everyone automatically followed him, yelling about how practice wasn’t over as tenma stumbled to his desk, opening his laptop with such determination it was admirable how one–minded he truly was

“why did you run like someone died?!” yuki whacked him over the head but tenma didn’t react, just logged into a ticketing website with intensity

“someone will die if i don’t get tickets to NATSU-mmer’s second anniversary stadium concert!” tenma insisted, memorizing what he was supposed to do as he sat down, biting his nails as he stared at his spot in the queue. oh god

understandably so, no one understood why tenma had to go to the concert so bad (“why doesn’t he just use his connections to get tickets?” “he really loves NATSU-mmer, huh...” “they do form a triangle!” “shut up”). yet, they resigned themselves to this predicament and let tenma end practice early, knowing pulling him away from his screen would make things way worse

sitting around him, the summer troupe kept light conversation as tenma tapped his foot against the floorboards, willing himself to stare straight ahead to react the fastest

i have to keep my promise, tenma thought as he impulsively bought five tickets without warning, all front row and didn’t wince at his bank balance

tenma promised he’d see you front row at your first stadium concert, and on god, he was going to keep it

when the troupe cheered and rambunctiously discussed tenma’s generousity to take them to the concert with him, yuki stood in the back with his arms crossed and eyes watching tenma carefully

“you hack... you still like them, don’t you?” yuki mumbled, not catching anyone’s attention. it didn’t take a genius to piece together the puzzle, he knew you were much more than just tenma’s first childhood friend, but he didn’t say anything else as tenma breathed a sigh of relief at the mercy of the ticket gods

(when tenma tweeted how he was going to the stadium show, his mutuals showered him in congratulations and your official account even liked it) (he keyboard–smashed like the fanboy he was)

while you were preparing for your opening stadium event for the first time in your professional career, tenma was planning the entire trip as best as he could

(yuki felt so bad for him and his very obvious crush that he made him a sunflower headband for the concert, it was so nice tenma almost went in for a hug before yuki smacked him)

the night of the stadium concert, you were sitting backstage dressed in your group’s common bright fun colors as you fiddled with your guitar, playing a tune you hadn’t remembered until recently. you thought of a little boy with orange hair and purple eyes as you stared off into the distance, just nonchalantly playing the song you two had wrote together back then

as you kept strumming, you imagined him sitting front row, cheering you on

(maybe, you shouldn’t have stalked his official sns accounts before going to sleep last night)

you knew it was last second. but for some reason, even if he never heard it, you had to honor your relationship with tenma

in a way, you would have never been here without his friendship, and you wanted to thank him even if he wouldn’t be there

it took a lot of convincing for your solo stage to be moved to last with no backing track whatsoever (your manager was suspicious of what you had up your sleeve, but you promised it wouldn’t hurt your group’s image), but you did it!

your group pestered you obnoxiously about the change, their sibling–esque bond with you as their “parent” making you laugh as you played it off like it was no big deal.

(as you opened a guitar case you hadn’t brought along in a long time, you smiled down at the worn sunflower–painted guitar)

this was your first stadium show and you could only dream of tenma being right beside you

summer troupe arrived at the stadium hours early, but there was already a long line with campers filling the streets (“why are people sleeping outside just to see some cute people?!” “stan culture, man...”)

tenma was excited in line, not even bothered by the length of the wait as he rambled about your group discography to the boys, subconsciously waving around his sign as he pushed up his sunglasses

(how no one recognized his bright orange hair was beyond anyone’s common sense)

when the group made it past security with a few mishaps (muku making himself look like he was highly suspicious by stuttering and kazunari having to come in to save the day with his social media presence) (misumi almost stripping down for no apparent reason) (yuki actually walked like a normal person with nothing to hide), tenma practically ran to his seat like he was a child again

“everyone say NATSU!” kazunari held his phone up for a group selfie, the five making a triangle as he posted it to his story, tagging it with the group hashtag and the location as always

your band member was scrolling through the hashtag with the group account, showing everyone fan pictures and providing over–the–top commentary, as you all sat in a circle waiting for the show to begin

“oh~ it’s that kazu guy! he usually posts stories with our songs!” your band member said, swiping to their most recent story and your eyes widened

was that a shock of orange hair?

you couldn’t have missed it. that had to be tenma, no other fan would just show up with sunglasses front row like he promised before

did he remember you? before you could react, everyone moved onto the next fan and complimented them endlessly, your mind still stuck on that orange hair

it couldn’t have been... but yet, you smiled

at least you could imagine singing to someone for your stage at the end

when the concert began with a strum of your guitar, tenma let out the most excited scream of all time as his voice was drowned out by the rest of the fans. summer troupe side–eyed him but ignored his frantic lightstick waving as they watched the five members of NATSU–mmer rise from the stage in their iconic poses (yours was the same from childhood)

“who’s ready to start this summer off right?!” you shouted into your mic, your voice vibrating the open stadium as the fans cheered in response. tenma was quiet this time, staring up at you with such admiration yuki had to shove him out of it (“don’t be so dumb right now, enjoy the show!” “shut up, i wasn’t staring!” “i didn’t say you were...”)

you guys opened with your debut song, going back to your humble beginnings in the elementary practice room as everyone danced the night away. everyone online was right; streams could never compare to the real thing. tenma didn’t care about being “cool” for once as he jumped up and down

(kazunari definitely got multiple videos of him singing every song word for word at the top of his lungs like his life depended on it) (there’s also a video of him crying to an emotional ballad song, just full sobbing as muku awkwardly patted his back while worriedly glancing at the camera)

(“it’s so sad...” tenma sniffled as yuki practically shoved his own hands into his mouth, trying not to laugh for once)

the event passed in a flash, your stamina crazy high as you didn’t even seem tired. you looked more alive than ever, especially when you began giving your final speech of the night as NATSU-mmer’s leader

“hi, sunflowers!” you giggled, the fans awww–ing in unison and tenma was staring at you like you were the sun. he was right, you were so bright under the spotlight, it was blinding

“thank you so much for coming to our first stadium show.” you bowed and tenma noticed your hand was shaking around the mic. he was worried, were you okay?

“actually, this is very special to me, not because it’s a stadium, but because you’re all here to share it with me~” you cutely said, laughing when everyone cooed. you kept going, all the attention on you as the background musicians began filing out backstage. murmurs filled the stadium, what was going on?

“but also... i made a promise back then, to my very first fan, band mate, and dear friend of mine, someone i’ll call sunshine for now.” you said and yuki’s head snapped to tenma, who was looking at you with a small smile

“he said he’d be front row when i had my stadium show, and...” you trailed off, turning to the summer’s troupe location as the group members excluding yuki and tenma excitedly talked amongst themselves (“oh my god, does NATSU-mmer recognize us?! let’s invite them to our opening night next month!”)

“he is.” you finished, smiling as the tears you kept in glistened under the light. tenma roughly wiped under his eyes, hoping no one noticed as he made eye contact with you for the first time in years

“this is for sunshine, the first song we ever wrote, called sunflower dreams.”

you stepped up and placed the mic on the stand decorated with vines and yellow petals, swinging your guitar around to the front as tenma recognized its sunflower pattern. he knew both your names was signed behind it

“hide all the feelings in your heart, someday the season will go on and change.” you sang, the whole stadium silent with the single spotlight on you. you stood center, like it was the elementary music room again

tenma held his breath, trying not to sing along to avoid the confused looks of his friends. he knew every word, even though it was unreleased. you two worked on the song so hard, it became the only song you two finished to completion

“as i looked at the sky, it was a faraway dream,” you opened your eyes and looked directly at him, like he was still the same shy kid who hid behind the wall just to hear you sing. for a moment, tenma went back to that time like it was just you two again

“we’ll reach that sky someday.” you smiled before you heard your own voice, remembering something about the promise: “no, you’ll be backstage! or better yet, on stage with me!”

without thinking, you quickly grabbed a microphone left on stage and turned it on, tossing it to tenma who didn’t drop it this time

sunmer troupe exchanged wild glances between each other as you went to their side of the stage, holding your hand out with a shaky smile

“you know the rest, right, ten?” you asked, afraid to move back before tenma nodded, not caring about hiding his identity as security let him through

although there were tens of thousands of people, tenma took your hand and felt like you two were back in school together, just practicing like always

(your hand was smoother, but you still had the same callouses from playing guitar)

you started strumming again and it didn’t take any effort before you two bounced off each other like before, singing sunflower dreams like it was just yesterday as fans made the connection sumeragi tenma was on stage

(“oh my god, tenten!!!” kazunari shrieked, recording despite his full phone storage. muku was sparkling, dreamily calling it a manga moment as misumi said something about you being one of tenma’s three happinesses. yuki just smiled, he knew it)

when you two ended the song with your (not so) secret handshake like no time has passed, you and tenma grinned as you two immediately hugged on stage

“ten, i knew you’d remember.” you whispered, and tenma just smiled even bigger as he ignored the crowd’s volume

“i knew you’d become a famous singer and win every single music award. you were born for the stage.” tenma said, and you were blinding under the spotlight

you two accomplished your dream for your childhood selves this time: performing on stage together

#sumeragi tenma #tenma sumeragi #a3! act! addict! actors!#a3!#act! addict! actors!#a3! actor training game #a3! headcanons #act! addict! actors! headcanons #mankai a3!#mankai company #a3! x reader #a3 x reader #tenma x reader #a3! tenma #a3 tenma

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oikawaplssteponme · 4 years ago

Text

𝑨𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒀𝒐𝒖: part 3

✨part 1

✨part 2

“It’s always been you. Has it always been me?”

pairing: Tobio Kageyama x fem!reader

rating/warnings: chapter 6 is a little ✨spicy✨ but nothing too extreme (probably 16+ is best for this section), also there is a little swearing too but again nothing too bad :)

synopsis: You liked him. He liked you. Easy right? Well, maybe not as easy as you thought.

a/n: hi friends :) this is chapters 5&6. just a reminder that the taglist for this fic is still open so just ask to be added and I will gladly add you ��also this part is a bit longer than the last ones but I still wanted to post both chapters✨enjoy xx

•

Five: this ones for you

You probably stood in the middle of the gym hallway for only a few seconds before getting snapped back into reality by Koi, but it felt like ages. You couldn’t believe that he actually kissed you. While yes it was on the cheek but it didn’t matter.

“Y/N come on,” called Koi. You ran after her and entered the gym. You and your team made your way to the away team student section. There, you all spread out on the steps. You stood near the middle of the steps, giving you a clear view of the court. You saw the boys warm up and stretch. You spotted Kageyama and butterflies instantly entered your stomach. He was giving tosses to the team, each with greater accuracy than the last. No wonder he was the starting setter.

“Woah Tobio is really good!” said one of your teammates. You just smiled to yourself.

It was time for the teams to switch. Seijoh, which you learned was their name, was up to warm up. Oikawa, the boy from earlier, also was setting. Maybe that’s who Kags was talking about last night? Oikawa seemed to be so focused on what he was doing, different from Kageyama who had precision on his side.

The whistle for the start of the game was finally blown. The teams shook hands and got in their starting line up. You noticed that Seijoh was up to serve. Since Oikawa was their setter, he served first. You shook your poms, cheering for your school to get the ball up.

Oikawa bounced the ball before spinning it in his hand. The whistle blew for him to serve. Oikawa turned to look at the away student section. He spotted you instantly. He pointed at you and you jumped. He nodded his head slightly, as if saying “This ones for you”. You could tell everyone was staring at you now, though you tried not to react. You just kept shaking your poms. Finally Oikawa served, earning a perfect ace. You felt your stomach clench. Oh god.

“That guy sure has one hell of a serve,” you heard a student say. Oikawa was up to serve again, the score 1-0. This time, his serve was picked up by Nishinoya.

“Cover Kageyama!” yelled Noya. Kageyama ran to the ball, unable to set it, he passed it to the wing spiker.

“OH YEAH!” yelled Tanaka, as he slammed the ball down, earning a point. You cheered loudly, jumping up and down with your poms in the air.

The first set was neck and neck. Every time Seijoh got a point, Karasuno followed up with two and vice-versa. Now, it was Kageyama’s turn to serve. The score was 20-19, Karasuno down. You felt so nervous for Kageyama. He was just as nervous. He knew you were watching and he wanted to impress you.

“You got this Kags!” You chanted. He must have heard you, because a sly smile appeared on his face. The whistle blew and up went Kageyama’s toss for his jump serve. Seijoh’s libero shanked the ball and out it went, earning Kageyama an ace.

“Go go Karasuno!” Your team cheered. It might have been one serve but you were so proud of him.

Karasuno took the first set. The final score was 26-24. You were beyond excited. You and your team chanted the cheers you had practiced yesterday. The second set was about to start, this time with Kageyama serving. You again felt your nerves rise as you watched him bounce the ball. Finally the whistle blew and up went the ball. Kageyama hit it but the serve went long, passing the end line by only about an inch. Shit. You instantly noticed Kageyama’s change in demeanor.

“Shake it off, you’ll get the next one,” yelled Suga.

“My bad!” replied Kageyama. It was only one point after all, everything will be fine.

Update: everything was not fine. Karasuno lost set two, 28-26. You trembled at the thought of the boys losing this game.

“Hey lets go, take this set!” You yelled. Afterall, your job was to cheer on the team so there was no room to doubt them. You and your team started to chant the cheers until the rest of the student section joined. You wanted to be the loudest ones in the gym, aside from Tanaka and Noya.

“OH YEAH!” exclaimed Noya and Tanaka, finding out Karasuno got first serve. You knew that them having first serve meant Kageyama was first to serve. You had no doubt he would do great, but you still felt nervous for him. He stood at the end line, bouncing the ball.

“You’ve got this Kags!” you yelled, louder than you initially thought. Kageyama heard you and looked up at you in the bleachers. He smiled. You smiled back.

Finally the whistle blew and Kageyama threw up the ball. His serve was strong, but Seijoh’s libero picked it up no problem. Oikawa set it to the wing spiker and he hit it cross court.

“Mine!” called Noya, digging up the ball. Kageyama was in a good position thanks to Noya’s dig.

He set the ball to Hinita and using their special quick attack, they scored a point. The crowd went crazy. You were in awe of Kageyama’s skills.

“Great play! Get the next one!” someone said from the stands. You could feel your smile growing as the game went on.

Game point for Karasuno. Oikawa was up to serve. You could feel the tension radiating from each person in the gym. The whistle blew and Oikawa wasted no time in slamming the ball. But his serve was no match for Daichi’s skill. He got the ball up and Kageyama sent it over to Asashi. The rally seemed to continue forever. Back and forth, no team was willing to let the ball drop. You got more and more anxious each time they touched the ball. Finally, Oikawa went up to set a quick middle attack, but was shut down by Tsukkishima. That was game point.

“Oh my god we won!” cheered Koi. You two hugged in celebration. You were so excited, you couldn’t think straight. You and your team rushed downstairs to congratulate the boys. You instantly found Kageyama and you two locked eyes. Without even thinking, you ran towards him, almost jumping into his arms to hug him.

“You won!” you exclaimed as you clung to Kageyama. He couldn’t think straight either. He just held you tightly.

“Yeah, we did,” he said finally. You soon realized that people were staring, so you carefully let go of him and he set you down. You just looked at Kageyama and smiled shyly.

Everyone waited outside to board the busses and head back to school. It finally hit you that now you and Kageyama would be hanging out. Alone. Your nerves instantly came back. Well, it's a little late to back out now. You took a deep breath and just waited to get on the bus.

“Hey little cutie,” you heard a voice call. You turned around only to see Oikawa. Kageyama saw him too. “I hope you and Tobio know that that win was just a fluke. It won’t be like that next time.”

“We will just have to wait and see then, won’t we?” You replied. Oikawa smirked.

“Yes we will and as for your number-”

“Come on Lazy-kawa, we have to clean up,” called the same guy from earlier. Oikawa rolled his eyes.

“Iwa you’re really starting to become a cock-block you know that…” Oikawa’s voice trailed off as he walked towards his friend. You chuckled to yourself and got on the bus.

•

Six: interrupted

You got back to Karasuno and unloaded the bus. Your stomach was in knots the whole ride. Once again, you were too nervous to be your energetic self. You waited with your things for Kageyama, unsure what else to do. Kageyama was getting off the bus but was pulled aside by Daichi.

“What is it?” Kageyama asked. Daichi looked around to see if anyone was watching. He grabbed Kageyama’s hand and slipped something in it.

“Make good choices,” said Daichi as he walked away. Kageyama looked to see what was in his hand.

“I’m not gonna need this!” Kageyama called back at him. Daichi laughed.

“Better safe than sorry!” Kageyama groaned and slipped ‘it’ into his back pocket. Kageyama gathered his things and walked towards you. You could tell he was just as nervous as you were.

“Ready?” You asked. He nodded and you two headed to your house.

Once you arrived at your house, you two set down all your things and headed into your living room. You then realized you were still in your cheer uniform.

“Oh, I’m gonna go change really quickly,” you said. Kageyama nodded and you rushed upstairs. A wave of panic came over you as you struggled to get out of your uniform. Then came the question of what to wear. You didn’t want to look like you were trying too hard but you also didn’t want to look like you weren’t trying at all. You settled on black leggings and a grey crew neck. You looked in the mirror.

“Calm down!” You said aloud to yourself. You sighed and ran back downstairs. There, Kageyama was just sitting on the couch, twiddling his thumbs. He looked up at you, eyes wide.

“You look pretty,” he said quietly. You smiled.

“Oh thank you. Um, you’re probably hungry after that game. I think I have stuff for ramen.” You headed over to your kitchen and scanned around for food. Kageyama followed. You grabbed noodles and vegetables and started to cook.

“Can I help?” asked Kageyama.

“Oh if you want to. Here you can chop these,” you handed him a bundle of scallions and a knife. He cut them so carefully and you just smiled as you watched.

You arranged the bowls of ramen with noodles, vegetables, and a side of pork for Kageyama’s bowl. You placed the bowls at the table, across from each other. You both sat down and started to eat.

“This is really good Y/N,” said Kageyama, eyes bright because he was starving.

“I’m glad,” you said with a smile, “Hey can I ask you something?” Kageyama looked up at you with a noodle half hanging out of his mouth and nodded.

“How do you know that Oikawa guy from today?” Kageyama choked on his noodles.

“Oh um we went to middle school together. We both play the setter position so we’ve always competed with each other,” he explained.

“Isn’t he a third year though?”

“Yeah he is.”

“Well being competitive with a third year is really impressive. Imagine how good you’ll be when you are a third year,” you said. Kageyama blushed.

You two finished eating. You cleared the table and put away the dishes.

“We can go up to my room and watch a movie if you want,” you said. You knew it was a bold move to ask him to go to your room but you were home alone and you were convinced nothing would happen. Anyway, it's just Kageyama.

“Yeah that sounds good,” he replied.

You led him up to your room and sat down on your bed. There was probably a foot of space between the two of you. Kageyama sat with his hands in his lap, unsure what to do with them. He didn’t want to make a move just to get rejected. You grabbed the remote to your TV and started to look for something. You searched through the local channels before finding a professional volleyball game that caught Kageyama’s attention. You kept it there. You watched in silence. Kageyama only talked when he had a comment about the game and you just laughed to yourself. You were surprised he had enough energy to stay awake, you were exhausted. Before you realized it, your head was slowly dipping down to meet with Kageyama’s shoulder. Once he felt you, he immediately tensed up. You brought your head back up.

“Oh I’m sorry,” you apologized. Kageyama shook his head.

“No no it's okay. I-I don’t mind,” he said. He moved closer to you so you could better rest your head on him. You put your head back on his shoulder. You could hear his heart beating. He was so nervous. He didn’t want to mess up and even if he did, you wouldn’t have cared. You snuggled yourself onto Kageyama and held onto his arm. You’ve never been more comfortable with anyone before. Kageyama then moved his arm to wrap it around you and you moved your head onto his chest. His heartbeat was at full force but you found it comforting.

“Y/N?” he said suddenly. You lifted your head to look at him. Kageyama looked at you with puppy dog eyes.

“Yeah?” Kageyama held his breath and leaned in to kiss you. You were taken by surprise but you instantly kissed him back. His lips were shaky and hesitent. You adjusted yourself to better reach him, not once letting your lips depart. Kageyama pulled your leg gently, hinting for you to sit on his lap. You followed suit and moved your legs to be on each side of him. You kissed him more intensely each time. Kageyama moved his hands down onto your hips. You ran your fingers through his soft hair. His breath was hot and so was yours. You have kissed people before but never like this. You’ve never felt like this. Kageyama’s hands were unsteady. He wasn’t sure whether you would be okay with him moving them lower. You could tell he wanted to.

“It's okay,” you said in between breaths. Kageyama slowly started to move his hands onto your ass. He kept his hands there until he decided to flip you onto your back. He hovered above you, using his forearms to prop himself up. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. You started to tug at his shirt and he got the message. He pulled his shirt over his head and threw it across the room. He immediately bent back down to kiss you again. You moved your arms under Kageyama’s to scratch against his back. He let out a faint groan as he grabbed hold of your thigh. You continued to kiss him with everything you had. You still couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that this was the same Kageyama that could barely say two words to you. Now he seemed to be saying a lot more. Before you knew it, he was pulling your sweater over your head and tossing it on the floor. Kageyama started to move his hand onto your bra. You gasped at his cold touch but it felt so good. His hand rested on the top of the cup of your bra, his other hand still gripped onto your thigh.

“Kags…?” you mumbled out his name in between kisses. This was like music to his ears.

“What is it ba-”

*BUZZ* You both stopped.

“What was that?” you asked.

“Uh I don’t know,” answered Kageyama. You heard the noise again *BUZZ*

“Kags I think it's your phone,” you said. Embarrassment came over Kageyama. The phone buzzed for a third time.

“Y/N I’m so sorry,” Kageyama looked frantic. You chuckled.

“It's okay, just check who it is.” Kageyama got up from on top of you and grabbed his phone from his jacket pocket. You sat up and pulled your knees to your chest to cover yourself up. You gave yourself a mental pat on the back for forcing yourself to wear a ‘nicer’ bra when you changed.

“Its three missed calls from Hinita,” he explained. You tried not to laugh.

“Well if he calls again just tell h-” *BUZZ* Kageyama answered the call this time.

“Hinita I swear to god either someone died or-” Kageyama began before Hinita cut him off. You could hear multiple voices talking so you assumed Hinita was with the team.

“Kageyama we just saw Ushijiwaka and he-”

“Hinita leave Kageyama alone he’s with Y/N.”

“KAGEYAMA’S ON A DATE?”

“Hell yeah Tobio, getting that good p-”

“OKAY that's enough,” interrupted Kageyama. It took everything in you not to burst out laughing. “Did you need anything else?”

“Hinita give me the phone...it's Daichi. Hey sorry about him. We’ll leave you two alone. Make good choices and if anything use the-”

“Okay yup thanks bye,” Kageyama hung up the phone and tossed it on the floor. He laid down on his back and sighed.

“I’m so sorry about that.” Kageyama was hiding his red face with his hands. You smiled and scooched towards him, taking his hands and moving them from his face.

“Don’t worry about it, I just didn’t want to get interrupted,” you smirked. You laid down next to him and he put his arm around you. You started to mess with his hair.

“Maybe we should slow down a bit though,” you said. Kageyama turned to look at you.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I’m sorry if I got carried away or made you uncomfortable…”

“No, no, not at all,” you sat up, “trust me if I didn’t like something I would tell you.” You moved to sit on his lap. Kageyama sat up to meet you.

“I just would hate for this to be only a...you know… ‘physical’ thing,” you explained.

“Yeah me either and I promise it's not.” Kageyama said reassuringly.

“Same here,” You put your arms around him, bringing him to a hug. He hugged you back.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?” you looked at him.

“What were you gonna say earlier when, uh, we got interrupted?” asked Kageyama. You tensed up.

“Oh... it’s not important anymore,” you explained. He nodded and went back to holding you tightly.

[taglist OPEN: @vangoghpoets @vangoghmusings @lilnuances @jennasquishy8]

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu #haikyuu tobio #tobio fluff #tobio x you #kageyama #always you. 🌸

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sunshinecrashed · 4 years ago

Text

IF ONLY

minamoto teru x reader

@tokoyamis-luv requested: okay IDK if you do angst to fluff (i’m sorry if you don’t) but maybe reader hides that she can see supernaturals and she’s recently been dating teru. one day she’s waiting for him after school and he’s taking some time, so she’s goes and looks for him, only to find him attempting to exorcise hanako maybe? or a supernatural idk- (teru thinks it’s okay bc she supposedly can’t see supernaturals) BUT SHES SHOCKED AND HORRIFIED and is very sad you know? since he’s a sweetheart 1) SORRY

2) i forgot what part i was in whoops anyways so he notices she can see supernaturals and shes ofc very shocked and sad but he goes to her house and talks to her and apologizes and it ends up more light-hearted and cute and fluff (he’s also taken in consideration koi’s feeling towards exorcising) you DONT HAVE TO DO THIS REQUEST!! IM SORRY I ALREADY ASKED U ONE LIKE YESTERDAY OR SMTH (also if you can could this be a scenario? you are AMAZING at them) THANK U 🥺💓💓

word count: ~1,400+

summary: you try and stop teru from exorcising hanako; but you haven’t told him that you can see supernaturals.

warnings: slight angst with a happy ending, attempted exorcism of hanako

a/n: ok first i wanna say that zara (can i call u that?) u are SO KIND omg i don’t mind taking ur requests at all, i eat that shit up lmfao. and 2nd its like 1am lol im sorry if this turned out shitty ;-;

• ﹒• ° ˚ ° ⋆ ✧ ✧ ✧ ⋆ ° ˚ ° •﹒ •

It’s not easy hiding the fact that you can see supernaturals from your boyfriend.

Who is literally an exorcist.

When you both started dating, you agreed that no secrets would be hidden between you two, but if Teru knew that you could see supernaturals... things would get complicated very quickly.

Every time you passed the bathroom and saw Hanako in there while other people were around, you turned a blind eye.

Every time the Mokke try to give you a sweet from the classroom window sill, you averted your gaze.

It pained you to ignore the supernaturals that you have seen all of your life, but you simply just couldn’t risk how Teru would react if he knew that you interacted with them. You were very aware about Teru’s opinions on ghosts and supernaturals, especially about Hanako-kun.

Right now, you were walking with your boyfriend to your next class, chatting.

“Are we still down for getting lunch after school?” you asked curiously.

You could tell that he was already almost drooling at the thought of trying out the new cafe in town. “For sure. You know where to find me once school is out, right?”

Poking him in the arm affectionately, you said, “Under the tree in front of the school. We meet there every day, dummy.”

“I know, I know. I’ll meet you there as soon as I can, and then we can taste test their pastries.” He smiled at you. You let out a little ‘yess!’ as you linked pinkies with him.

Standing on your tippy toes, you pressed a tiny kiss to his cheek. “I’ll be waiting! Go ace the test that you were talking about!” you cheered.

Teru laughed and watched your form turn the corner, a fond look in his eyes.

He made a mental note to be quick while he got rid of that pesky ghost Hanako.

- - -

As you stood under the tree in front of the school, you worriedly glanced at your phone.

‘He’s already fifteen minutes late.. that’s longer then last time.’

You pondered on whether or not you should send him a quick text, your finger hovering over the send button.

you: hey, everything alright? those pastries aren’t going to eat themselves 😳👀

Sent.

‘Maybe he was just finishing up his test?’

But that didn’t make sense to you either. Your boyfriend was a straight-A student, who somehow always turned in his assignments first while getting perfect scores almost every time.

You couldn’t help the nagging feeling in the back of your mind, that... the supernaturals had something to do with his absence.

With your mind made up, you hurriedly placed your phone back in your pocket and made your way back into the school.

Peeking into all of his classes, you found that they were all empty, with the students and teachers having already packed their things up. The only exception was Tsuchigomori-sensei, who only quirked an eyebrow at you as you quickly stammered an apology for disturbing him.

The only place left to go was.. the rooftop.

As you climbed the stairs leading to the very top of the building, you could feel energy growing in the air, similar to electricity.

‘Shit, he couldn’t be--!’

Your hand flew to the rooftop door handle, revealing the very scene that you had dreaded the most.

“Teru!” You tried to yell over the crackling of lightning. But he couldn’t hear you with his back turned to you; all of his attention was on Hanako, who was currently speared to the ground by your boyfriend’s sword.

Even from a distance, Hanako’s struggling screams still rang in your ears, shattering your heart.

You couldn’t let him do this. You couldn’t let him harm a ghost just for being a ghost, who hasn’t caused any harm to the students.

“You supernaturals are all the same. Even if you promise not to hurt anyone, who says that your rumors won’t change? What will you do when you finally end up killing another person? It’s my job to stop that from happening--”

Tears welled into your eyes as you ran forward, wrapping your arms around him from behind.

“Teru, you need to stop this!” you begged.

For a moment, the lightning stopped and Teru tensed up.

“[Name]? What are you doing here?!” He whipped around to face you, shock written all over his face.

His eyes darted from you to the supernatural he had pinned to the ground. “Wait. You can see him?”

You looked away. “...We can talk about that later. But right now, can you please let go of him?”

“You know I can’t do that, [Name].” He said softly. “It’s for your own safety.”

Taking a deep breath to collect yourself, you said “Wait, Hanako hasn’t harmed anyone,” Teru opened his mouth to respond to that, but you continued. “Let’s talk about this somewhere else, and after that, you can decide if you still want to go through with exorcising him, okay?”

Your boyfriend took one look at Hanako’s puppy-dog eyes that screamed “please?”, then back at you, and sighed.

“Fine. But you have a lot of explaining to do, too.”

“...I know.” you confessed.

Teru took your hand and led you back to the doors to the stairs, before shooting Hanako one last cold glare, to which Hanako only closed his eyes and sighed with relief.

You both went your separate ways once you exited the building, an unspoken feeling left hanging in the air.

- - -

Your day ended with a blur, and Teru still hadn’t contacted you all night. By the time morning rolled around, you were beginning to think that your relationship with him had ended before you heard the doorbell ring.

It was still fairly early, and you were only dressed in a big t-shirt and some sleep shorts, but you answered the door nonetheless, only to find Teru standing there with a box in his hands.

“Umm.. May I come in?” He asked hesitantly.

You were (secretly) really happy to see him standing on your front porch, knowing that the tension between you guys could finally be settled.

As you invited him in, he sat down on a stool at your counter while you stood on the other side, leaning on the kitchen cabinets.

Teru nudged the box in your direction with his hand and looked away sheepishly with a blush on his face. “Here, I uh.. got these for you.”

You curiously opened the box to find...

“Pastries?”

His blue eyes looked up to meet your gaze and he gave you a gentle smile. “Yeah, I remembered that we were supposed to go try the new cafe together yesterday, so I thought that you might want to share these since... things got in the way.”

The corners of your lips quirked up as you took one of the pastries. “Thank you, Teru. That was really considerate of you.”

“And I also hoped that we could talk about what happened yesterday..” He trailed off.

You sighed, taking a bite of the pastry before beginning. “Yeah, I’ll start. I’ve been able to see supernaturals since the beginning. I didn’t tell you because, well.. I knew what you thought of them, and I didn’t want to put anything at risk.”

Continuing, you said, “I know that you come from a long line of exorcists, and I really didn’t want to interfere with your work, but some of the supernaturals, like Hanako, haven’t done anything to harm anyone. He’s even protected your little brother and Nene when they’ve been in trouble.”

Teru also took one of the pastries and munched on it, absorbing your words.

He noted, “Before I came here to talk to you, I also had a small conversation with my brother about that. Kou insisted that he would keep Hanako in check, as long as he didn’t hurt any of the students. And if it came down to that, then he agreed to exorcise him.”

He took a deep breath. “What I’m trying to say is that I’m giving both Kou and Hanako a chance to prove that Hanako is a safe supernatural. And if they fail, well.. then I’ll take care of it.”

“Teru,” You began with a smile tugging at your lips. “You don’t know how much I appreciate you doing that for us. I’m sorry for interfering in the first place.”

He gave you that familiar warm smile that made your heart skip a beat. “And I’m sorry too. From now on, no more secrets, okay?” Teru questioned.

“Definitely. No more secrets.”

Your boyfriend held his arms open for you and you rolled your eyes affectionately before letting yourself be held by him, both of you humming in satisfaction.

“Wanna go grab some breakfast in town to make up for yesterday?” He asked you, his voice slightly muffled.

“...is that even a question?”

#minamoto teru x reader #teru x reader #toilet bound hanako-kun x reader #tbhk x reader #jibaku shounen hanako-kun x reader #jshk x reader #toilet bound hanako kun #tbhk #jibaku shounen hanako-kun #jshk #minamoto teru #x reader

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quillandink333 · 3 years ago

Text

The Shadow’s Embarkment

Kazuma Asougi × Original Character

SPOILERS FOR THE GREAT ACE ATTORNEY CHRONICLES ~ Read ahead at your own risk!

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.6k

WARNINGS: amnesia, psychosis, violence, mentions of colonialism

Summary: On her journey back home after a long study tour, an English exchange student finds herself stranded in a strange land with little hope of return. Some days later, she comes face-to-face with a mysterious figure whose circumstances have likewise taken a turn for the worse.

Masterlist

“‘Spare pennies,’ she says!” The man’s boisterously cynical chuckles filled the brick-lined alleyway. “A well-to-do English gentlewoman roaming the backstreets of the Crown Colony of Hong Kong, looking for spare pennies. Now I’ve seen it all.”

The lady in question shrank into herself at his remarks. “I-I’m terribly sorry if I offended you,” she tittered in her best but sorely lacking Cantonese. “I just—”

“You colonists are the reason the people who call this place home are forced to work round the clock just to put dinner on the table,” he barked. “Honestly, have you no shame, no self-awareness, whatsoever? Did they take that from you when they mugged you as well, eh?”

She raised her hands in defence, words escaping her. She could only decipher about half of those being fired at her by this struggling stranger, and when she tried to pull what little vocabulary she’d learnt from her memory, she came out with nothing.

“I swear, you and your ilk are all the same.” Now the man was starting to advance toward her. She hadn’t noticed how tall he was before. “You just think you’re so important. Even when you’re destitute.”

“Keep your money, sir, please. Just...please, accept my deepest apologies,” she begged, bowing her head and reverting to her own tongue in her panic.

“Oh, so now you won’t even trouble yourself to speak to me in my language.” Her back hit the brick wall. “You’ve got a lot of nerve for an oh so refined, holier-than-thou—”

“Oy.”

Both heads turned in the direction of the foreign voice.

A young man in a black and red uniform, perhaps early twenties, bore a stern expression as he approached the scene from the east. “Can’t you see she’s bowing to you?” he posed in perfect English.

The man to whom she’d made the dire mistake of speaking scoffed. “You little... You must be desperate for me to teach you a lesson, boy.” He stalked toward the newcomer, whose hands came up to guard his centre in a solid, unwavering stance. “Alright, then. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

But when one lunged at the other, he swerved, took his opponent by the sleeve, and threw the man over his shoulder.

His back hit the uneven pavement with a reverberating thump. He moaned, lying vanquished at the younger one’s feet, face frozen in anguish. Neither of them spoke another word to the other, the victor turning his gaze to the lady, who was still pressed firmly to the wall. In contrast with the act of chivalry, it wasn’t kindness that dwelled in his deep, charcoal eyes. Rather, they seemed to be saying something to the effect of, “Him? Really?”

She let out a sort of sigh, though not quite one of relief. “I, erm...suppose I’m not the best judge of character, am I?” she smiled, unable to match the intensity of his stare. Meanwhile the man behind them slowly but surely came to his feet and scurried off, but not without shooting one final glare at the two. She cleared her throat. “Thank you for that. My name is Cecelia Gardner. Might I ask yours?”

The response she received was an unexpected one. His mouth fell open, but no reply emerged. Until, “I...couldn’t tell you that. I’m sorry.”

“Ohh. Wait...” Her thoughts lapsed for a moment. “You mean...you’re... You’ve...” He cut her off with a single nod. She stifled a shocked exhale with her palm. The poor soul truly had lost his memory. “So then...do you even know where you’re from or who your family are?”

He paused before responding with a solemn shake of the head. “I can only seem to recall as far back as yesterday, when I awoke aboard that steamship and found myself here. I’ve no idea how I came to board that ship or from where.”

The look of complete and utter loss he now bore threatened to tear her apart if she didn’t quickly think up some way to help him. “Well, from the way you’re dressed,” she mused, observing the familiar floral motifs adorning his cape, “I’d wager you’re a university student from Japan. Does that sound right...?” His brow rose ever so subtly. That had to be a good sign. “When I speak like this,” she tried in what she hoped he’d recognise as his native language, “can you understand me?”

“Ah! Yes, I—I can.” His face had lit up in apparent surprise and relief, much to her delight. “Are you...Japanese as well, then?”

She couldn’t help the flutter of laughter that escaped when she noted the obvious doubt and confusion in his tone. “No, but I was a visiting student there myself until recently, actually. My study tour had just ended, and my ship was scheduled for a stop here, so I thought I’d step off for a bit and see the sights. That’s when—”

“You were mugged.”

“Yes, that’s...right,” she stammered, thoroughly caught off guard. His gaze had honed in on the scrape carved so harshly into her cheek some days earlier. For someone with amnesia, he was startlingly sharp. “Now I’m stuck here until I figure out a way to get home with no money or any form of identification.” Her feet shuffled in shame of her own shortsightedness.

“I see...” He hooked a forefinger to his chin. “You and I have found ourselves in similarly troubling predicaments, it would seem.”

“It does seem that way, yes...” She’d been unable to place it until now, but from the moment he’d appeared, she’d sensed a distinct feeling of incompleteness about him. Now it was clear why. Surely if he’d lost his memory, the thought wouldn’t have occurred to take his possessions with him when he’d made port.

“Might I enquire as to where you yourself hail from, Gardner-san?” he asked respectfully.

“Ah, well, it’s a vast distance away from here, to be sure, but you’ve most likely heard of it.” He stood to attention, encouraging her to continue. “It’s known as the Great British Empire.”

Just then, a shadow loomed about his visage. Something had stirred within him. It had only manifested in the briefest of flickers, but it was unmistakable. And it made Cecelia’s blood run cold.

His jaw set, he assumed a faraway disposition, taking refuge behind the visor of his cap. “Thank you for everything, Miss Gardner,” he said in English. “I bid you safe travels.”

With that, he turned his back to her and stepped around the corner, disappearing quietly into the crowd.

No less than six days had passed since the nameless ‘university student’ had landed in Hong Kong. Since then, he hadn’t made a great deal of progress, either in finding stability or recovering his memory. Though proficient in English as he was, the majority of the city folk he’d had the courage to reach out to had seemed to want nothing to do with an outsider like him, and reflecting on his outward appearance, he could gather why. But of course, that thought did nothing to ease the empty feeling in his stomach nor the pounding of his head after nights on end with no sleep. As for his own mysterious origins, the Englishwoman he’d met the day after his apparent arrival might have given him a clue, but the conversation he’d shared with her had failed to ring any bells with him.

Save for one thing she had mentioned. The Great British Empire.

With those words, not just a bell but a voice had arisen from the darkest depths of his mind. “Go to Great Britain,” it echoed. “The task that is your sole purpose in life awaits you there.” And every day following that encounter, this voice had whispered words such as these without rest. Its tones were soft, but the longer it went on, the more it started to grate at his sanity, and the clearer it became that securing a route to this place was to be his top priority.

As he wandered down the bustling streets that day, trying his hardest to look like he had any idea where he was going, an acquaintance spotted him from across the way. “Oh! E-Erm...” She’d opened her mouth with conviction, but trailed off upon realising she didn’t know his name. “Sir...!” she tried in vain. “To your left! Look—agh...” When she started getting strange looks from the other passersby, she quieted down.

Realising she’d lost sight of him, she scanned the crowd only to spot him again as a tiny black dot several yards ahead of her. Electing to think the rest through later, she gave chase. By the time she figured she’d come close enough, a new plan had materialised. She raised her hands to her mouth and...

“Anata!”

Finally, his head shot up, and he peered over the sea of bamboo hats until he locked eyes with her.

“Word of advice:” he huffed, just having shoved his way through the throngs until no one else stood between the two of them, “you might want to reconsider next time you feel the urge to shout something so brash at the top of your lungs in the middle of a crowd.”

“Well, how else would I have gotten your attention?” She crossed her arms at him, and he did the same. No wonder she was always getting herself into trouble, he thought.

“Alright, well, you have it now,” he sighed. “So what can I do for you?”

“Gracious...” She flashed him the back of her hand in mock offence. “No need to be so sarcastic with me, is there? I was just going to tell you about the work I’d managed to find, but if you’re going to be like that, then I’ll just be on my way, I suppose.”

“Wait.”

She’d taken but half a step away from him when his hand caught her shoulder. She tipped her head his way.

“Tell me.” If there was an opportunity for him to start filling his empty pockets, he couldn’t afford to pass it up. “Please.”

A victorious smile played on her lips as she turned to face him once more. “There’s a cargo ship docked at Victoria Harbour that’s currently hiring for the position of deckhand for sixteen shillings and fourpence a week. It’s not much, but it’s better than our current wages, am I right?” He gave a huff of amusement. “Oh! And another advantage it would give me personally is that the ship is setting a course for Britain! Isn’t that—”

He seized her by the shoulders. She stilled her breath. “It’s...” He was staring her down with a deadly expression that made time itself come to an abrupt halt. “Did you say...it’s going to Britain?”

Doing all she could to quell the frantic rhythm of her pounding heart, she nodded, shakenly asking, “Wh-Why? Are you trying to get there as well?”

“Yes.” His vicelike grip eased up on her just slightly. “I am.”

“Oh.” She forced a swallow. “Well, it’s due to set sail first thing tomorrow, so if—if there’s any chance of us catching it, it’s now.”

“Then let’s not waste another minute here.”

“Agreed.”

The hour was four o’clock in the afternoon, and the two unlikely comrades were just barely able to afford a carriage ride down to the docks with the collective handful of coins they’d picked up off the pavement. But for when they would arrive at their destination, an unsavoury discovery lay in wait.

“Two hundred days?!”

The seaman stationed at the dock jumped at the Japanese man’s outburst. “Well, pardon her measured pace,” he retorted, “but in addition to the many other stops that are to be made during this voyage, there are a number of factors that determine the rate at which she sails. Take fuel consumption, for instance, or—”

“Yes, yes, that’s all well and fair, but honestly,” the disgruntled Englishwoman butted in, “you’d think with a name like ‘the SS Vitesse,’ she’d have the capacity to travel with a bit more haste, wouldn’t you?”

“Listen.” The sailor lowered his clipboard to his side, pompously pushing up his spectacles. “Do you lot want this job or not?”

“Yes!” the pair clamoured in unison.

“Alright, then.” And with a swish of his pen, “Welcome to the crew.”

The freighter was worlds apart from the passenger ship that had delivered young Cecelia from her homeland to the far East some four years ago. Whereas one had been furnished with high ceilings and carpeted floors, this one seemed to be made almost entirely of steel and was terribly cramped. To make matters worse, she would be sharing a room with five other crew members, which wouldn’t grant her much privacy if any at all.

None of it bothered her much though. Her standards were far from luxurious by now, and—thank the heavens—sleeping arrangements seemed to be made according to gender. Besides: the food that was served to the crew that evening was the best she’d had in weeks.

She was strolling through the halls on her way to her shared cabin after a quick post-meal orientation when her eyes landed on a familiar face. She started jogging up to him, but then—

Twang

She crashed onto her backside, the sound of the metal beam she’d just hit her head on ringing sharp in her ears. A whimper of the most pathetic nature emerged from her open mouth as she cradled her throbbing cranium in her palms.

A tut arose from a surprisingly close proximity. When she gently looked up, she found the man she’d been running to greet standing over her and extending his arm outward. In that instant, all the blood in her body rushed right to her face. If there’d been a window nearby, she wouldn’t have hesitated to leap straight out of it into the murky depths below, but instead, all she could do was take his hand and allow him to bring her upright. “Are you alright?” he said, but she knew what he’d really meant was, “Are you quite sane?”

“Yes, I...think so.” After a few more blinks, he was soon back to having just one nose rather than two blurry ones.

“You should think about turning in for the night,” were his final words to her before he turned and continued on his way.

“Wait...!” Cursed was her luck; she wasn’t done talking with him yet! “It seems as though we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other from now on!” She was having to walk more briskly than usual to keep up with his strides. “Won’t we?”

“Mmh...” He wasn’t slowing down, by the looks of it. He wouldn’t even spare her a glance.

“Did...you get enough to eat?” Her breaths were shortening with every step. “You probably haven’t had the chance to enjoy a good meal like that in a while either, have you?”

But it was futile. She couldn’t keep up with him, and when he veered off in a different direction, it was over. There was no sense in pursuing him if he wasn’t interested. Her head throbbed. Just where was he trying to get to in such a hurry? As if someone like him had anywhere important to be.

In truth, his mind was altogether in too many places at once, and it had made the conversation she’d clearly been trying to start with him altogether too daunting. What he needed was to rest. He would have plenty of time to think tomorrow, to say nothing of the next six months across which this tedious voyage would span.

#my writing #fanfic #dgs spoilers #dgs2 spoilers #tgaa spoilers #tgaa2 spoilers #dai gyakuten saiban #dgs #the great ace attorney #tgaa #kazuma asogi #asougi kazuma #kazuma asogi x oc #asougi kazuma x oc #my oc #dgs oc #tgaa oc #cecelia gardner

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mcheang · 5 years ago

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See Justice in red

This is another Princess Justice fic draft I write with Justice sprinkling salt on Lila, Adrien, Alya, the faculty, and even the Mayor. I may refer to Princess Justice by either Princess or Justice.

“He was the one who betrayed me! He destroyed my trust in others!”- a line I vaguely recall from Unriddle 2 finale episode

Basically when Marinette becomes an akuma, she actually gets her revenge. Princess Justice is a warrior princess with a sword of truth. She uses that sword to skewer Lila. It won’t kill her by damaging her organs or blood loss, but it will force her to spew out the truth. It’s like the lasso of truth, and the longer you are under its control, the more likely you’re going to go mad.

It’s also like Thor’s hammer, only Marinette can lift and summon it.

What surprises Hawkmoth is how many powers Princess has. With Tikki powering Princess Justice, I think she’s like the Scarlet Witch, changing probability.

When Adrien and Alya try to convince Marinette this isn’t what she wants, that this isn’t her, she demands for them to shut up. Where were they when Lila had gotten her expelled? Did they know what it was like to be accused and see your friends turn their backs on you? I mean come on, Lila said Marinette pushed her and Marinette said she didn’t. Alya had 2 friends to believe, and she chose Lila’s. And they actually thought they knew her? And Adrien knew Lila was lying and only tried to help when Marinette asked him to. Some help he had been. And what kind of friend needs to be asked to help? (I admit the recent chapter from Scarlet Fever pointed this out to me.)

Sadly or not sadly, depending on whose POV it is, Princess Justice can only punish those who were wrong on a more...um official scale.

Being a bad friend just isn’t worth her akuma’s attention, like framing a student or expelling said student with stupid proof.

So Princess Justice just ignores her class...that doesn’t mean they are spared. They are in her line of fire and she doesn’t care about casualties.

And this happens via targeting the principal for not investigating properly. His punishment would be to see his heroic dreams reversed. Dark Owl would not be a hero. He would be a villain. Oh, and apparently Justice wants to destroy the school. If there are victims inside, bonus!

When Hawkmoth tries to stop her, Princess Justice breaks free from his control, using her probability powers to affect his own. Since he is a criminal, he is vulnerable to direct attacks. Hawkmoth is laid struggling against too many emotions and is overwhelmed. He can’t respond. Catalyst can’t help him with her current powers and is then wracked with her coughing fit and collapses.

Surprisingly one of Justice’s victims is Tom Dupain, while Sabine had been angry over the injustice, Tom had escaped being akumatized and seemed to accept his Daughter was guilty. He had been resigned, Marinette had seen it in his face. Tom was a casualty as Princess wrecked the school.

The rest of the akumas go wild as Hawkmoth is no longer in control. Dark Owl goes on a crime spree. Zombizou spreads love after all this salt. Reflekta changes people’s appearances. Princess Fragrance searches for Ali.

Justice’s next target is the mayor for abusing his power. Verity Queen follows as her backup.

Master Fu sees the news onscreen and goes to give out the Miraculous. Once the akumatized object has been destroyed, Marinette and Tikki will be free to transform and purify the akuma.

Princess Justice doesn’t target Fu because she feels he has faced punishment already. She doesn’t hate him like she hates the mayor.

The heroes assemble but fail in stopping Princess without their leader. and this is with them being defeated by indirect attacks and her without her primary weapon! (The Mayor was its latest victim.) It doesn’t help that most of the heroes had been indirectly injured in Justice’s rampage about the school.

Princess Justice collects all their Miraculous, sneering when she spots Adrien. Oh the irony. And she actually used to have a crush on him! Unbelievable.

Fu decides to pull his final ace. He goes to find young Alix. She is happy to get a Miraculous in spite of all the terror she faces.

Bunnyx is summoned and is advised not to go too far back or the future may still be lost.

The night before Lila’s accusation. Bunnyx visits Adrien while asleep and actually slaps him hard. She had heard that he knew Lila was lying and that he let her continue to lie to all of them. Alix sort of blames him too.

Seeing Plagg on the pillow, Alix learns his true identity.

Anyway, Bunnyx warns Adrien to expose Lila or doomsday will come next morning.

She also scolds him for letting Lila manipulate his friends like that. She also advises to actually be there for his friends instead of waiting to be noticed.

Adrien is stunned. What just happened?

Bunnyx returns to her home where her past self is sleeping. She finds the old watch and unifies both Miraculous together. Now the Alix sleeping has all of Bunnyx’s memories. And Bunnyx herself has vanished.

The next day, Adrien confesses the truth to his friends. Alix herself apologizes for not believing Marinette and promises to always be there for her.

When Marinette is accused of cheating, Adrien defends her and Alix points out that the answer sheet was only stolen after the test was taken.

Bustier’s accusation falls flat. She is embarrassed.

Lila isn’t about to give up though. She claims Marinette stole her necklace and she can prove it because she saw it in Marinette’s locker.

However, Alix points out again that the lockers are unlocked and that someone could be framing Marinette. The class isn’t sympathetic to Lila’s plight.

Realising that Alix has credibility since she is a neutral party and is willing to fight, Lila unhappily backs down. She hasn’t yet realized that Adrien exposed her and the class doesn’t trust her anymore.

Later during lunch, Alix joins Marinette for lunch and advises her to think beyond her crush for Adrien, and not to let him be the center of her life. Alix admires Marinette for standing up for truth and justice and hated seeing Marinette lowered when she obsesses over Adrien. She needs to see him clearly as a person and not someone on a pedestal. Her words strike Marinette deeply and make her thoughtful.

Adrien then talks to Alix alone. Adrien asks if she remembers anything from yesterday that was strange.

Alix crosses her arms. “Like when I slapped you awake, kitty?”

Adrien pales and begs her not to tell. Alix shrugs him off. “I won’t tell. I’m good at keeping secrets, like you apparently.”

Adrien flushes and apologizes again. Alix holds up a hand to shut him up. “We all make mistakes. I personally blame your silent act on your lousy dad. But try to think beyond the Lila’s and Chloe’s of the world and think how we have to put up with them because you keep letting them get away. And right now, you’re only acting up because I told you to. But Marinette deserves a better Friend than someone holding her down.” And then Alix storms off. Adrien is left alone feeling guilty.

Fu notices the missing Miraculous but encounters a young Alix who tells him the truth. Since it is a family heirloom, he lets her keep it. Reminding her to only use it when all hope is lost.

From that point on, Marinette tries to see Adrien differently and gently corrects him when he makes mistakes. Alix becomes her new BFF. Caline and Damocles undergo inspection when the school board receives an anonymous call saying their faculty is inefficient and biased. Adrien learns to stand up for himself, to tell Lila to back off, and sincerely apologizes to Marinette again. Alix is there, skeptical and there to ground Marinette. Alix and Adrien are friends but Adrien has to prove himself before Alix can really forgive him. He does so by using his civilian self as a shield for Marinette and Alix whenever Chloe or Lila attacks them. He actually stands up to his Father at personal risk, when Gabriel insinuates that his friends are a horrible influence, refusing to be shut down.

Now that Lila has been exposed, Gabriel fires her.

My salt for Adrien and Aly has been reignited today. Sure they defended Marinette in Despair Bear and tried to get her back into school. But couldn’t they have been more vocal when was being accused in the locker room? Alya was ignorant of Lila’s nature but Adrien was aware of it.

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lady-of-all-cards · 4 years ago

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Ikemen Revolution: Headcanon - When the Red Army Officers Fall Ill

Fandom: Ikemen Revolution Characters: Lancelot Kingsley, Jonah Clemence, Edgar Bright, Kyle Ash, Zero Pairings: N/A Summary: One day, an officer falls ill with a terrible cold. Will they suffer through their work? Or hide away in their blankets until the sickness passes?

Notes: Did I depress you enough with the last two posts? Well here is a little fun happy times to forget that I did that, because I’m not that morbid or depressing (most of the time, anyway). So, I hope this cheers the blog up a little! And of course, I hope you enjoy ^-^

1. The King of Hearts - Lancelot Kingsley

Lancelot is commonly ill due to his constant use of magic leading to his overexertion.

Kyle is also in on this little tidbit, so dealing with a sick Lancelot isn’t too much for him to do, especially if it’s a common cold.

But being the kind and protective man he is, Lancelot wouldn’t tell anyone of his cold as to not worry them, because this man is a considerate teddy bear!

However, our dear Gentle Demon, Edgar Bright, is far too attentive to detail, and over their early morning meeting, picks up on Lancelot’s drousiness and general unawareness of the situation around him.

Of course, to cause chaos as he usually does, he brings it up in the conversation.

Jonah goes into panic mode, fussing over Lancelot and trying to get him to, at the very least, tell them his aliments so they can help.

Zero steps forward silently and places a crimson lolipop in front of Lancelot on the desk, stepped back sheepishly.

Lancelot takes the lolipop, but doesn’t eat it.

Yet. He’ll sneak it later when Mr.Overprotective-Mother-Jonah isn’t around

Kyle finally decides to pipe up, urging Lancelot to take even an hour’s rest before continuing with his duties.

Lancelot, of course, denies that he needs that, and tries to continue the meeting they were having before.

But it’s four against one.

Jonah would back down with a single command.

Edgar would back down, but he would continously tease him about it for days to come.

Kyle wasn’t backing down. As his personal doctor, his duty was to ensure the king was in good health at every possible moment.

Zero wouldn’t back down either. He’d much rather be ill himself that see Lancelot struggling with any sickness.

And so, Lancelot is forced to yeild. Jonah and Edgar split his paperwork, supposedly an hour’s worth of it.

Zero takes up Jonah’s and Edgar’s duties in training their units.

Kyle drags Lancelot back to his room and settles him down to sleep, giving him cold medicine and painkillers.

However, when he wakes, he realises a number of things:

1. He wasn’t woken after an hour, but was left to rest for three.

2. The entirety of his paperwork for the entire day had been done by Jonah and Edgar in the hours he slept.

Although ashamed about having to rely on his subordiantes so much, Lancelot was endeared by their kindness, and awarded them all with gifts of their favourite choosing.

2. The Queen of Hearts - Jonah Clemence

Much like Lancelot, Jonah will try to hide the fact that he’s ill, but his first mistake happens before he even wakes up…

He overslept… by an entire hour.

His sickness had hit and weakened him sometime during the night, when he opted for thinner night clothes, not expecting the chilling cold after such a comfortingly warm day.

Because of this poor judgement, Jonah’s body refused to wake up, and instead of his usual 6 AM start, he roused from his slumber at 7AM, much to his shock and distain.

It was just his luck there wasn’t a morning meeting that day due to Edgar being called away on business, and Kyle had his usual hangover, so Jonah had a moment to gather himself and actually make him presentable.

He did a good job of hiding it, but only because he stayed in his private quarters completing paperwork and eating sweet deserts that his footmen brought. There was absolutely no need whatsoever for him to leave his room.

Or so he though…

Night had passed over Cradle when he had been called to the King’s office. Edgar had gotten home slightly earlier than usual, and so the morning’s meeting had been called into place.

It seemingly wouldn’t have been a problem if the sun had been seeping through the windows, but in the glow of the Magic Crystals, Jonah’s ghostly features were illuminated fully.

At first, neither Lancelot or Edgar commented on it, opting to leave him be. It was just to late at night to be teasing…

But then… Jonah’s speech began to warp.

His sickness had progressed into a headache, and he began not thinking straight, no longer possessing the ability to rationally organise and explain his points.

However, knowing the proud Queen of Hearts would never forgive himself for ruining a meeting in such a manner, Lancelot brought the meeting to an end early, ordering his Jack and Queen straight to bed.

The next morning after a much needed sleep, Jonah woke up to painkillers and cold medicine on the bedside, with notes from his fellow officers:

Lancelot: “I noticed you were feeling off yesterday. You are given leave for as long as you need to recover. Get well soon :)”

Edgar: “Don’t push yourself, Queen. I don’t was to tease you if you’re not up to being teased.”

Kyle: “Kinda annoyed you didn’t come to me straight away. Take 10ml of medicine in the bottle three times a day and one before bed, and the painkillers once a day when you feel is necissary. And please, for the love of god, please rest.”

Zero: “Edgar told me you were sick. Don’t worry about your duties, me and him had split them while you get better, so just relax. And… here’s a lolipop. A treat from me for when you feel better!”

Although embarrassed at being caught and annoyed at some of the comments, Jonah smiled and decided that maybe it was time to take a day off to recover.

3. The Jack of Hearts - Edgar Bright

The Jack of Hearts never gets sick. EVER.

Or so it seemed, because like most things in life, Edgar Bright was an expert in the art of both faking a sickness to get a day off, and in the art of pretending not to be sick, even though he felt like literal death inside.

It was the latter that ailed him.

For the entire day, he managed to allude detection. He cleared his mind before meetings, and switched training his soliders with one of Zero’s patrols.

Everything was fine and dandy, golden, good to go!

Until that evening, his dear student had challenged him to a duel…

See, Zero found it strange that Edgar skipped on training the new recruits that day because, although he was tough and the sessions always ended in a high workload for their doctor, it was a necessary part to strengthening their resolve.

Plus… Edgar loved playfully torturing and teasing the men of the Red Army, and did it at every chance he got.

So why not this time…?

To any onlooker (and there were quite a few), it appeared to be an even match between two high-skilled soldiers, ending in Zero disarming Edgar.

But there was no teasing.

There was no indication Edgar was truly Edgar.

But during the little sparring match, Zero found it noticably easy to defeat his teacher.

Assuming he would get teased by it to fuel Edgar’s entertainment, Zero played along with it, hoping he’d snap back to his old self real quick.

But the teasing never came…

And so Zero went to the only man who he knew could solve this problem: one Master Kyle Ash.

So, Kyle and Zero innocently dined with Edgar at dinner that night. End of story.

Or so Edgar thought.

He thought he had been in the clear that night as he walked to feed the Creek Family one last meal, but the Creeks were all sat around a small handkerchief, bearing medicine for Edgar, with a small card folded ontop.

“Get well soon, papa - the Creeks.”

It was Zero’s handwriting, he’d recognise it anywhere, but the sentiment still forced a goofy smile to his face as he reached over to pet each duck in to.

Being sick wasn’t so bad, he thought…

4. The Seven of Hearts - Kyle Ash

The first thought Kyle had when he woke up that morning was that he had a hangover.

A totally reasonable conclusion to make, unless he was just so used to waking up with hangovers that it had become normal for him to assume that’s what his ailment was.

And everyone else assumed that also upon seeing him that morning at the breakfast table and during the morning meeting.

However, there was one who’d know the Hungover Doctor too long to be fooled by the effects of a hangover.

Lancelot had slipped Edgar a note during the meeting, and using the cover up of delievering a letter, let the Jack fulfill the true duty he intended.

Kyle never suspected a thing, too busy with his hangover and with his work to bother too much with his cold.

But when he had returned to his personal quarters than night to do some extra studying, he found a small collection of medicines and medicinal herbs, with a small note folded into a card.

“Do you even realise it yourself, Kyle? You’re sick, and I’m not just refering to your hangovers. Take 10ml of this medicine three times a day and one before bed, and you have leave to rest and recover. Try not to get intoxicated while you do so, it would help your recovery - Lancelot.”

He hadn’t noticed until then, but he was feeling drousy, he was sniffling every now and then, a cough stratched at his throat too.

And yet he smiled, knowing the Lance he knew was still kicking about, there to stand by the people of Cradle whenever, wherever.

5. The Ace of Heart - Zero

Much like most of the boys in the RA, he’d try to hide it and continue with his usual business

His exclusion from the crimson bloodline meant that no one really paid too close attention to him, or noticed there was anything wrong.

Thinking he got away from it all, Zero doesn’t let something as simple as a cold hold him back.

However, in the blistering Cradle heat that came around the next, he began to falter.

He developed a fever when he was out training his men, and it quickly grew worse and worse with time, as he failed to attend to it.

His men finally picked up on his daze, and after their schedual came to an end, ran off to get Kyle.

In the infirmary was both Kyle and Edgar, and upon hearing the Ace was unwell, they both rushed to his room to check the damage.

Kyle was, of course, muttering curses about it, annoyed he let it go that far.

On arriving, however, they find Zero passed out over his desk, and after a quick check-up from Kyle, Edgar carries him to the infirmary for treatment.

The next morning, when Zero wakes up in the infirmary feeling a lot better than he did yesterday, he cursed his inefficientness, and tries to leave to get back to work.

But it’s King’s orders.

Zero isn’t leaving until he’s all better! The care behind the order made Zero smile as he secretly snacked on a lolipop...

#ikemen revolution #lancelot kingsley #jonah clemence #edgar bright #kyle ash #zero #sickness

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wonderland-in-bloom · 5 years ago

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tsundere but aware

[tsundere!riddle rosehearts x shy-ish!fem!reader]

anon asked: Hi hi~ Can I request a sweet oneshot of a shy! fem! reader x slight tsun! Riddle please? Maybe a scene where she got teased by other guys because she's the only girl in the Dorm, and then Riddle stan up for her? Thank you in advance!!

yesss of course you can anon! i’m sorry if this fic doesn’t satisfy you though, however i’ll try my best!

P. S. GUYS THANK U SO MUCH FOR 155 FOLLOWERS HOLY HECK I ALMOST CRIED HFFFFFFFFFFFF I LOVE Y’ALLLLLLLLLLLL ♡♡♡

♡

IT was that time of the month again. yes that time of the month. you know satan’s sacrificial waterfall? the endless stream of red? yeah. that. it was your first day this month and honestly, it was so goddamn painful. cramps, pains, the numbness, all those struggles. you even struggled to get out of bed, how were you supposed to survive the day full of tiring classes? and surprisingly, you did. it’s just that you were so emotional in every class, either you secretly wiped the tears flowing down your face or you’d just try to beat up someone you didn’t like.

“yo chibi!” ace slung his arm around you as you were heading back to the heartslabyul dorm. normally you’d brush him off or didn’t really reply. you were known as one of the quietest students in heartslabyul and the shyest as well, and a lot of the other students said it was because you were the only girl. however that wasn’t true as you were close to cater and trey, sometimes even deuce, and you could’ve talked for hours with them. it’s just you didn’t really vibe with the rest. “tsk, quiet again huh?” it was as if your emotions were just a random spinning wheel and it landed on ‘sad and emotional little baby’. “well no wonder, i mean you’re the only girl here.” he shrugged it off. you knew he didn’t really mean it, and you two could connect just fine at times, but just, not today. “oi chibi! are you--” he froze when he saw that you stopped walking. your eyes were glassy and you were trembling. “WOAH WOAH WOAH. ARE YOU OKAY?” he panicked and rushed to you. “chibi...(y/n)...are you okay?” you just shook your head, but you proceeded to sob. ace was losing it. what happened to you? was it something he said?

“(y/n)!” ace heard an awfully familiar voice and before he got the chance to turn around, he felt a heavy weight around his neck and shoulder area. “WAIT? WHY IS THIS AROUND ME?! AGAIN?!” your teary eyes met the eyes of none other than riddle rosehearts. “(y/n)! are you okay? what did ace do to you?�� so that’s why he decided to use his unique magic. “riddle...nothing. he didn’t do anything. i’m just...tired...?” riddle pouted and removed the collar from ace. “h-hey chibi...are you really okay?” you walked away from the two of them with a fake smile on your face. “mhm! i’m alright.”

you finally arrived at the heartslabyul common room and plopped yourself on the couch. now the magic, random spinning wheel of emotions in your head decided to make you ‘super duper angry and will not hesitate to punch anyone in the face’. “ah there’s the chibi! were you able to get through classes today? must be hard being a girl here huh?” you clenched your fist and grabbed a pillow. you threw it at the random student and hit it flat in his face. all the students around you gasped and looked at your angry face. you didn’t say anything, you just looked at him with soulless eyes. “why you-!” he was about to throw the pillow back before a very familiar catchphrase filled your ears. “off with your head!” he screamed in shock to meet riddle at the door accompanied with ace. “how rude are you to throw something to a lady? the queen of hearts would be disappointed in you.” he spat. “d-dorm leader...” he muttered in fear and guilt. “everybody out of here.” riddle yelled and everyone left in a matter of seconds.

“(y/n). this isn’t like you, are you alright?” your emotion did a whole turn and you were now back to being the sad little (y/n). you threw yourself onto riddle and sobbed in his arms. he almost fell back but luckily caught you in his arms, but he could feel himself start to lose his composure. “it’s just that usual time of month. i don’t know why everything is so..” he started stroking your hair. “shhh...it’s okay. you don’t have to tell me what happened. i just need to know if you’re alright.” and thus the whole night was filled of you just ranting to riddle about your problems. that was also the night where feelings blossomed between the two of you and you thought of each other as something more. being the tsundere riddle was however, he just brushed it off and decided to cut it short and told you to go to bed, his excuse being that you must’ve been tired. but honestly you weren’t because you would give anything to spend time with him. the next day you had a huge smile plastered on your face. “riddle-kun!” you waved at him and caught up to him when you both were walking towards class. “(y/n).”.

“thanks a lot for yesterday! i really appreciate what you did for me yesterday! you’re a really nice person, you know that?” you smiled from ear to ear like the cheshire cat and this made riddle’s heart skip a beat. around riddle, you lost your ‘shy’ demeanor and you were just really happy around him. riddle pouted and faced the other direction away from you where his face started to shift a bit redder. “d-don’t mention it. but i won’t keep doing this for you...”

he’s such a tsundere.

♡

i love tsundere bbys hhhhhhh. my phone battery drained really fast and i panicked a lot but then i realized...oops thanks a3, twst, and arb :))

- a♕

#twisted wonderland #disney #disney twisted wonderland #night raven college #heartslabyul #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts oneshot #riddle rosehearts imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland oneshots #oneshots #imagines #ace trappola #x reader #reader insert

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lonelyheartsclubhaze · 4 years ago

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Chilly mornings away from home

January 2019 // Chapter 4

Soft piano notes waded their way into my mind, rousing me from sleep. Erik Satie’s “Gymnopédie No. 1” complemented streaks of sunlight that seeped in from cracks between the window shutters.

I rolled onto my stomach, patting along the bedsheets, searching for the alarm’s source. Locating my iPhone under a fluffy body pillow, I quickly tapped the snooze button, earning myself nine more minutes of repose.

Mornings were always so disorienting. I still had yet to remember where and when I was. Such things could wait. Clinging onto that snoozy state of nonexistence, I didn’t want to wake up. I was eager for unmindfulness.

Inevitably coming to, dizziness hit like a military grade tank as I realized that my bed was facing the wrong way. My morning senses spun westward from their southern-facing expectations. Cracking my eyes open a few nanometers more, baby blue walls, rather than white, met my gaze. I faced a medium size flatscreen TV set atop a brown cabinet bordered by cream, cushioned seats and a black mini-refrigerator.

It was so easy to be surprised by mornings. Here I was, expecting one thing and receiving another. It wasn’t a huge deal, and they were natural mistakes, but jeez, was I caught off guard. My bed typically faced a window on the southern side of my room in Berkeley, confined by white walls under high ceilings. Unlike my room in Berkeley, however, the ceilings in this place were much lower with windows much wider. My forgetfulness fading, I remembered why I was in this barely decent Denver hotel room, namely, for a job interview.

Grimacing, I also remembered that the aforementioned job interview had taken place yesterday—giving me a sense for why I might have preferred snoozy states of nonexistence to waking life. It was for some technician role at a Pharma-lab. And while they didn’t pay anything close to what Ajay would be receiving at Facebook (while still remaining just as controversial), money was money. Plus, it seemed like a good way to boost my med school app during the summer. Worst case scenario: I’d just spend the upcoming summer studying for the MCAT, which had to happen sooner or later. At this rate, however, it was looking like the worst case scenario would be my only scenario.

Oh well. With a redeye flight the next morning and the interview out of the way, I had a day to kill in Denver. Classes were still on hold for another week-and-a-half and since everyone was home for the holidays, Grace had offered to put me up at her place for the day. She was supposed to come by around nine AM to pick me up.

I rubbed my eyes and pulled up the blanket. The AC units at hotels were always freezing cold—particularly on especially inconvenient occasions, like now, right smack in the middle of a January morning. I flipped over my phone and turned off the alarm. The clock read seven-twenty-one AM. Just enough time to get ready and grab a quick bite before Grace was to arrive.

My hands smacked against the headboard of the bed mid-stretch, my wrists rolling as I struggled to fully wake up. Sitting up, I checked my phone for missed messages, sending out short, succinct text messages where they were needed. I cracked my neck and thrust my legs off the tall bed, my feet grazing the hotel carpet. I stood up, stretching my arms toward the spinning fan that hung from the low ceiling, and started toward the bathroom, tossing my iPhone onto the bathroom counter.

The shower roared to life with the turn of a knob. I grabbed a hotel-provided toothbrush and some paste on my way to the shower, along with a travel-size bottle of CeraVe foaming face wash. Inside, water rushed over my short, black hair, splashing onto medium broad shoulders and size ten-and-a-half feet as I washed my face. After mopping my chest, toes, and everything in-between with an ivory bar of soap, I squirted some toothpaste onto the brush and got to work, counting out one-hundred-twenty seconds in my head. Finally, I turned off the water and reached around the shower curtain for a towel. Drying myself off, I stepped out of the shower and packed up my bath supplies into a compact travel bag.

I shook the towel over my head to dry my hair and tapped on my iPhone screen to find one new notification. Hovering my face over the phone to unlock it, a blue message from Maddie read:

To which I replied:

She followed with:

Heart racing, I replied:

Two minutes passed. I held my breath.

Four minutes—then, a small blurb of text underneath my last message read:

Read 7:46 AM

I sighed and put down my phone. My face contorted as a profusion of expletives rushed my thoughts. Shouldn’t have double-texted her.

I supposed that it didn’t matter too much. She was with someone, anyway. When I’d seen her in December, before we’d left for winter holidays, she’d been at Bear’s Ramen House in the Asian Ghetto—the food hub a block from Sproul Hall—eating with some guy I’d seen around, probably on campus. He was a moderately wealthy, white kid from Marin studying one of the various biology sub-majors offered by Cal. He was also a junior, like Maddie, so a year ahead of me, as if his towering six-foot-three-inch figure wasn’t enough to give him a leg up on me with regards to Maddie. I didn’t know him all that well, despite having had a discussion section or two with him, though we greeted each other with a polite nod of the head when passing by one another in the Valley Life Sciences Building (VLSB) or in the library. To be honest, I didn’t even remember his name, just his face. His outfits often consisted of athleisure wear from Nike and/or Champion, giving off the impression that he played sports. I wasn’t quite sure whether or not this impression was accurate, but I did sometimes see him on the Glade or other grassy campus sites playing Spikeball, accompanied by peers with faces I vaguely recognized.

We’d often talk, Maddie and I. Sometimes I’d run into her on the spiral staircase at VLSB—the stairs that’d curl around the large, plaster T-Rex model to face broad windows on the east, granting access to the morning sun. She’d be on her way to a bio lab downstairs; me, on my way to the private, grad student bathroom that I’d secretly gained access to on the second floor. The restroom upstairs was protected by a keypad, but the code was too obvious: 362 362, or DNA DNA.

“Wonder where you could be going,” she’d say.

“Just need to make sure my hair is okay. I’ll do whatever it takes to get a few extra points from Professor Meighan,” I’d joke back.

“Do you poop here everyday?” she’d ask with wide eyes. “Or maybe you just like seeing me, huh? Is that it?”

I’d freeze up.

She’d laugh, saying, “Maybe a little bit of both, right, J?”

“Nothing gets past you,” I’d mumble.

“You’re funny,” she’d say. “You should have your own TV show. Maybe once you’re done with your residency you can join Grey’s Anatomy, or Scrubs. Or maybe you can have a talk show! Like Dr. Phil, but more funny and less depressing.”

“What about me gives off the impression that I’d ever want to have a TV show, at all, in any way whatsoever?” I’d say, shaking my head.

“See? Just like that! Always asking the right questions! Like Ellen DeGeneres but all doctor-like.”

She tended to tease me a lot. I didn’t mind. In fact, it was probably part of her appeal—definitely was, on second thought.

Like a good portion of the many pre-med students out there, Maddie was a biology major. Berkeley offered a few different options for bio students, and I’m pretty sure she was studying molecular and cellular biology, though it’s hard for me to say. If I wanted to remember something about her, I’d write it down in my iPhone notes. Otherwise, my hippocampus tended to toss it out, preferring to form memories of her nose, her lips, and those low cut shirts that left me off balance.

We’d text back-and-forth about classes, sometimes. A lot less after I saw her eating with what’s-his-face. I didn’t blame her.

My phone read eight AM. I tossed on a waffle knit shirt and long johns, then a Columbia fleece and Levi jeans, topping it off with an aged ski jacket that I’d ‘borrowed’ from Adam, who was up in Tahoe at least twice a month in the winter. I slung the beaten, black JanSport backpack containing my belongings over my shoulders and headed out the hotel door, making for the elevator.

The room door shut quietly behind as I banked right into a narrow corridor housing four elevators, two on each side. I pressed a button to summon one and within a minute, the light above the furthest elevator on my right blinked on. The door opened and I entered, clicking the button indicating the main lobby of the hotel. The door shut and the elevator fell five floors before slowing to let in an older, Black woman wearing a fitted, bell-shaped hat.

“Ground floor?” I asked.

She smiled sweetly. “Yes, honey. Thank you.”

We descended the final four floors in silence. Arriving at the ground floor, the elderly woman smiled and nodded at me before exiting first. I followed her out, glanced down at my iPhone, then diverged from her path as I headed toward the central lobby to check out. After snapping my room key card in half, I left the hotel, walking toward a Caribou Coffee a few blocks north.

Under the warm skies of Seal Beach, California, where I was born and raised, people tended to take their coffee with ice more often than here in Denver, Colorado. Every Friday, my mother would pick up an americano for herself—black, with no cream or sugar—on her way to work. I’d tag along as a kid, but sooner than later elementary school drop-offs morphed into middle school bike rides, then high school walks with pretty girls I swore I had a chance with, and then the here-and-now, flying Economy for interviews that wouldn’t yield job offers.

It’s funny—when I was a kid I practically hated being seen with my parents. At back-to-school events—the evenings when parents conglomerated to celebrate the annual accomplishments of their children—I wouldn’t be caught dead near my family. Somehow, I thought it made me look childish, or immature. After graduating from high school, however, I started seeing them less and less, and I began to find myself missing mom’s morning espresso runs more and more.

It seemed as though I must have picked up my mother’s coffee drinking habits, because when I arrived at the Caribou Coffee on sixteenth street at approximately eight-twenty-five AM, I too ordered an americano with no cream or sugar.

“That comes out to three-thirty-nine,” said the female barista. She wore a black apron over red and black striped under-layers, with a white wool beanie on her head, and deep black mascara on her eyelashes.

I thanked her and handed over three dollar bills along with some loose change from my jacket pocket.

“On second thought,” I said, retracting my hand. “Can I also get one of those?” I gestured to a blueberry scone behind the glass counter.

“Sure. Just three extra dollars.” she said.

I counted out three extra dollar bills, handing the money to the barista. Then I walked over to a small rounded table situated near the entrance and sat down. Scanning my iPhone, I saw that Grace had texted me, so I responded, asking her to pick me up at the Denver sixteenth street Caribou Coffee. Then I put my phone away and tapped silently along the underside of the table, slightly impatient for my pastry and drink.

I wondered what Grace had in mind for the day. I hadn’t seen her since—well, I suppose it wasn’t that long ago—final exams last semester. Personally, Grace and I had yet to have a class together, but Adam always took one or two bullshit classes with her, so she was often around my house anyway—especially during the week of final exams, when they’d study together all day long. As an English major, she had it pretty easy schedule-wise. She hardly stressed, at least outwardly, and was rarely overburdened with work, so she never missed a chance to chat it up with my housemates or me when Adam brought her over. She was really likable too. Even Albert got along with her, making small talk about Proust or the latest Pulitzer Prize winning novel from Jennifer Egan, and that’s saying a lot.

She always made it a point to stop by my room upstairs, at 2231 Dwight, waving ‘hello’ to me before vanishing for hours into the recesses of Adam’s single downstairs. I really liked that about her.

A small vibration from my left pant pocket convinced me to reach in. I pulled out my iPhone and saw that Grace had texted me. She was to arrive a bit early, in fifteen or so, around eight-fifty-five AM. She was driving in a black Honda Civic, she’d said. I texted her back to let her know that I’d be ready.

“I’ve got a medium americano and a blueberry scone!” called the barista.

I stood up, pulling my jacket over the chair to mark my temporary territory, then hurried over to the counter to grab my order. “Thanks,” I said before hurrying back to my table, balancing the warm, paper cup in one hand with the scone in the other.

Sitting back down at the table, I huffed down the scone. Then I took off the lid of the cup, wisps of steam condensing on the furl of my lip. I blew gently, cooling the drink.

I sipped slowly, then decided to put on my jacket and wait outside. Grace would be here any minute and I didn’t want her to miss me. I was getting sick of waiting by myself anyway. Walking outside, an icy burst of air cut right through me. I shivered, then zipped up Adam’s ski jacket. It was a good thing that it wasn’t snowing, because it was cold enough as it was.

I paced around for a bit, rubbing my hands to keep warm, until finally, a black Honda Civic with a freckled girl at its helm slowed to a stop slightly ahead of the sixteenth street coffee shop.

Grace rolled down the passenger window. “Hi.”

“Hi,” I said back. My pace quickened as my feet approached her car.

“I missed you, dude,” she said. “Come on, let’s go. It’s freezing outside.” A crimson hoodie hid most of her delicate contours, though the graceful arcs that formed over her breasts hinted at something more. The left side of her chest housed a star-shaped sports logo with the words ‘Broomfield Soccer Club’ below in a decorative typeface.

I opened the car door and hopped into the passenger seat. Gusts of warm air ruffled my hair.

She reached over the center console and squeezed me in a close hug. “How was break?”

“Pretty good. I mean, I was finally able to—”

“Bruh,” she groaned. “Did you read Science?”

“What?”

“The magazine,” she said, squinting her eyes.

I cocked my head to the side. “Was I supposed to?”

Grace rolled her eyes and sighed. “Can you?”

“Is there something I should be looking for?”

“Oh my god. Take out your phone.”

“Right now?”

“Yes, right now. Jesus-fucking-Christ, J.”

“Okay,” I said, pulling the iPhone from my jean pocket.

“Okay.” She cracked her finger knuckles. “Google ‘butterflies’.”

“Grace—” I started.

“Come on. Look it up.”

“Okay. Just because you’re asking.” I opened Chrome’s mobile browser on my phone, typed in ‘butterflies’, and pressed ‘search’.

She cleared her throat.

“Butterfly,” I read. “An insect from the ma-cro-lep-id-opt-er-an clade Rho-pal-o-cer-a, from the order Lep-id-op-tera—”

“No!” She snatched my phone and scrolled down. “Here. California’s monarch butterfly count drops by eighty-six percent, just last year!”

I raised my eyebrows. “Is butterfly watching a hobby you picked up over break or something?”

Her jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”

I coughed to cover a laugh. “I mean, I didn’t know you took butterflies so seriously.”

“God, and I’m supposed to go to a guy like you for my yearly checkups?” she gasped.

I put my hand on her shoulder. “Grace—”

“I don’t want to hear it, insect-killer.” She blew aside a tuft of hair from her forehead. “So, how was it?”

“How was what?”

“How was break?”

“Oh. Right,” I said. “Well, I finally got around to watching that show you and Adam were talking about last semester.”

“Peaky Blinders?” Her eyes lit up. “Oh my god, it’s really good, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. I really like Tommy’s brother, Arthur. I think he’s funny. I’m not too sure how I feel about Polly yet, though, but then again I’m only on season three.”

“Adam fucks with Arthur too. Personally, I’m more of a John-kinda-person. I think he’s less murderous than Arthur. Kills too much. How’s Adam doing, though?”

“Honestly, you probably know better than me. Haven’t seen him since we left for home.”

“I feel it.”

Grace made a sharp right onto the I-25 freeway, accelerating until our speed plateaued around ninety miles per hour. I gripped the sides of my seat—ninety was a little too fast for my tastes. I considered myself a defensive driver. Dull buildings bordered the freeway shoulders, and I tried to focus on them to distract myself from Grace’s driving.

“What do you say we stop by a park or something, J? Not really tryna see my parents right now.” Grace glanced at me, her hands still on the wheel.

I felt a bit queasy watching her take her eyes off the road. “Yeah, works for me. Something going on?”

“Eh, the usual. Just get sick of ‘em being home for so long,” she said. “But anyhow, I have a ball in the trunk. We can kick it around or some shit.”

The road grew bumpier as we drove over a waterway on the way to Grace’s neighborhood. Spoiled by scenic coastal sights on the drive up to Berkeley, the glum scenes around me felt sobering. I tapped my foot, eager to get out of the car.

Eventually, Grace took exit 225 on the right, keeping left to merge onto East One-hundred-thirty-sixth Avenue. We passed a stucco structure with a sign that read ‘Broomfield’.

“Almost there,” said Grace. “I know just the spot.”

Finally, Grace made a left into a small parking lot bordered by bright green, grassy fields on one end and unkempt trails on the other. “Quail park. I grew up playing soccer here.”

I looked around. I was glad to be there—it certainly yielded better views than the drive had. “It’s pretty.”

Grace popped open the trunk and pulled out a soccer ball and pump. She filled it with air quickly, then gestured for me to carry the ball. We walked over to the open fields, brushing permafrost aside as we squished the grass beneath our feet. Back and forth, we kicked the ball to one another, Grace showing off every now and then by booting the ball over her head and onto her knees, juggling it for ten, maybe twenty bounces before passing it back to me.

“So?” she said. “Did you kill the interview?”

I winced. “Not exactly.”

Grace toed the ball inward, using its momentum to whip the ball onto the flat of her foot. With a touch of force, she tapped the ball into the air and into her hands. “Come on, J. It couldn’t have been that bad.”

I smiled a bit. “It really was though.”

She laughed and dropped the ball to her feet. Passing it back to me, she said, “Ah, whatever. You don’t want to work in Denver anyway. You’re not cut out for it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, look at you. You’ve been shivering your ass off since I picked you up, dummy. And I have heated seats!” she said.

“Hey,” I started. “You’re not wrong.”

“Rarely am. Anyhow, how are things with, uh, you know . . .”

“Maddie?” I finished.

“Yes, right, Maddie.”

“She texted me this morning.”

“Oooooh,” said Grace. “How’s Brandon gonna feel about that?”

Ah, right, Brandon. How could I forget?

“Brandon . . . Right. Well, I doubt that it’s a major concern of his at the moment. She left me on read anyway.”

“Oh. Well, it’s her loss anyhow. She’s missing out on a star athlete!” said Grace as she punted the ball, knocking me square in the chest.

“Fucking shit!” I howled.

“You sound like Adam more and more everyday,” she said.

“So dreams do come true.”

“Isn’t it funny,” said Grace, juggling the ball on her quads. “Don’t you feel like certain words belong to certain people?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, like, don’t you associate certain words with certain people? Like every swear word with Adam, for example, and or maybe, I’m sure there are some you have in mind for Maddie or whoever.”

“You sure you’re not projecting, Grace?” I asked.

This time she threw the ball at me, and it proceeded to hit me right on the head. We kicked around for another hour or so, talking about this or that—how final exams went; our plans for the semester; and Pac-12 Women’s soccer, despite an utter lack of knowledge regarding the sport’s conference on my part. Around five-thirty in the late afternoon, we decided to get something to eat, so Grace drove us to a Vietnamese spot called Golden Bowl Noodle House which she heralded as the greatest phở restaurant on the west coast.

We sat down in blue booth seats across from one another, red and gold walls bordering us on my left. A large, square, green painting depicting an ocean scene lined the wall between us. I ordered the same thing as Grace, the Combo Number One, which consisted of a small rare steak phở, 2 spring rolls, and an iced tea. Grace asked to change hers to a warm tea, which was probably the better move in hindsight. Our drinks arrived first, and we sipped on them slowly. I was hungry—blueberry scones could only provide so much sustenance.

A robed Asian woman, with a slight hunch in her back as she hobbled over, arrived with a tray carrying two bowls of soupy noodles; four translucent wrapped appetizers; and a small dish with bean sprouts, Thai basil, and other add-ons. She bowed slightly and left us to our meals, so I looked over at Grace who had already taken her first bite from a spring roll. I followed her lead, feeling the cool cloak of rice wrappers over fresh shrimp, cilantro, and basil. Taking a bite, my teeth met shrimp with just the right amount of snap, the unexpected tang of hoisin sauce gifting a pleasant surprise.

Grace smacked my hand. “Use the peanut sauce! You gotta appreciate it properly, cuz some people can’t. Did you know that the rate of food allergies is increasing rapid as fuck—especially in developed nations like the US?”

I did as she said, dipping the spring roll into the gloppy, brown sauce. She wasn’t wrong—it was better that way. After swallowing my last bite of the spring rolls, Grace tossed some bean sprouts into my soup and squeezed lime juice over my bowl.

“You know this isn’t my first time eating phở, right?” I said.

Grace hushed me and continued eating. I watched her twirl a handful of noodles into her chopsticks, lifting them to her mouth over a soup spoon. Noisy slurps concluded with sapid bites followed by quick sips of tea. Rinse and repeat.

I opted for a fork, twisting firm noodles around its prongs as best I could, gulping down spoonfuls of savory soup in between steak and noodle bites. I watched the red meat cook to a brownish hue, the hot broth’s steam parting like sea waves under my chin.

“I’ll give it to you,” I said. “It’s good.”

Grace glanced at me, nodded, and continued eating. Finishing promptly, she leaned back into her chair and exhaled heavily.

I rushed to keep up with her, but it took me significantly longer to finish. Sooner or later, the robed woman limped over with the bill. I rose to my feet and met her halfway. I pulled out a Mastercard and slipped it into the folded check before handing it back to her and sitting back down with Grace.

“Real gentleman, aren’t you?”

“It’s the least I can do after everything you’ve done for me today. Besides, you’ve just introduced me to the ‘best phở on the west coast’, right?”

“Suppose that’s true. Okay, you’re right, dinner on you.”

The restaurant owner signaled that I could take back my card, so I walked over, tipped four-and-a-half dollars, tucked away my card, and we left for the car.

Grace’s eyelids were a bit heavy, so I asked her if she wanted me to drive. She handed me her keys and jumped into the passenger seat. After I buckled into the driver seat and turned the key in the ignition, she directed me to make a right out of the parking lot. I drove slowly back to her house, which was only ten or so minutes away, then pulled into her garage. The garage led into a two-story, vinyl sided, upper-middle class home with a comely, green lawn out front.

“Come on. I’ll show you to the guest room.”

I followed her over hardwood floors into the living room, where a tall, white man with square sunglasses over his eyes and a black beanie atop his head shuffled through TV channels with a remote. The lights were off in the room even though the sun had set a little less than an hour prior.

“How are you doing, sir?” I asked.

“Wassup?” he said.

“Oh,” I said. “How are you today, sir?”

“All good.” He took a long draw from an IPA resting on the coffee table in front of him. “Catch y’all. Gracey—you got trash, yea?”

Before Grace could reply, a voice called from the kitchen around the corner, “I got today, hun!”

We nodded in acknowledgment to the man and turned to leave. “Must be your dad?” I asked.

“Yup,” she said. And that was the end of it.

I followed Grace into the kitchen. A woman—her mother, presumably—with a polka dot apron around her neck and a noticeable accent in her voice greeted us warmly. I was surprised by the speed of the woman as she rushed me with a sturdy hug, a tactic she then repeated on her daughter.

“Are you Filipino?” she asked, placing a motherly hand on my shoulder.

“No, ma’am.”

“Ayo,” she said. “No problem. Sleep good, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you for letting me stay—”

“Sorry about him, mom,” said Grace. She hit me on the back playfully and the two women burst into laughter in unison. “You’re always welcome, J.”

I smiled, said goodbye, and trailed Grace as she led me up a winding staircase to a small bedroom encapsulated by canary yellow walls laden with rooster prints. The room housed a twin bed and two lamps with cube-ish shades. The bedsheets matched the walls, realistic rooster designs corresponding with the overarching theme of the bedroom.

“Don’t ask,” said Grace. “Night, J. Sleep up.”

I hugged Grace and thanked her. “Night.”

It was still early, only six-thirty or so, so I plopped onto the bed and pulled out my iPhone, intent on watching YouTube videos to pass some time. I chuckled to myself as I admired the chicken print theme of the room.

Clicking my phone to life, I was surprised to find text messages from Maddie that read:

I sighed and put the iPhone down as my heart rate spiked into the mid eighties.

#fiction #newadult #new adult #contemporaryfiction #na #youngadult #ya fiction #yafiction #young adult books #ya books

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miss-pearlescent · 5 years ago

Text

Hey Teach (M)

Jongin is the star soccer player on campus and you are his math tutor. Things get complicated. (¬‿¬)

You woke up with an arm around your waist and a boner against your butt.

It was just before dawn and there were many things on your to-do list today. Work, groceries, study...

But first, the walk of shame.

You let out a small sigh as you savoured the last moments of being a little spoon. You hadn’t really done the horizontal tango last night. The deed wasn’t signed without a signature; sex wasn’t sex without penetration.

Right?

You carefully eased the heavy arm off your stomach and crawled to the edge of the bed. You were so out of your element right now.

Your unofficial role on campus was a “nerd”. Not even one of the loud nerds like the debate kids. You just liked numbers and puzzles more than other things.

Turns out, you liked making out with Kim Jongin too.

You shook your head and adjusted your shirt, looking for your bra on the ground. It was weird to think that you were so eager to throw away your bra but insisted on keeping on your t-shirt and shorts.

It was weird to be here at all, really.

A groan came from the bed and you felt a hand graze your ankle. “Come back here.”

You hid your smile at Jongin’s sleepy voice. “I should get going,” you whispered even though he was clearly awake. “The sun is rising.”

He rolled onto his back, his broad bare shoulders taking up way too much of the bed. You focused your attention to looking at the ground, concentrating hard on that damn bra.

“So?” he asked, rubbing his eyes. “It’s Saturday. We don’t have class.”

“I have work this afternoon,” you said as you snatched the strap of your bra out from under the bed. “And I thought you had soccer practice this evening?”

It was a lame excuse and the both of you knew it in the silence that passed. You decided to ignore the tension in the room as you packed your notebooks away on the table.

You had arrived last night for what you thought was another tutoring session. Jongin had been struggling in one of his courses and you had offered to help him for a bit of extra money.

When he told you he had aced one of his recent tests yesterday morning, you decided to celebrate by ending his session with a toast and pizza.

He pulled up a movie on his laptop, dimmed the lights, and suddenly one thing led to another and you found yourself all over Kim Jongin, the school’s star soccer player.

Your cheeks heated at the memory, knowing you had come on way too strong. If it weren’t for these studying sessions, Jongin would never have even noticed you. You didn’t know what kinds of girls he dated, but you knew he probably had half the campus fawning over him.

And now you were part of that half.

Out of embarrassment, you slammed your textbook shut a little too hard.

“Will I see you tonight then?” he asked. There was a pause and then, “After my soccer practice, of course.” You couldn’t miss the playful note in his tone.

You inwardly groaned and shoved the textbook into your backpack. “Yeah,” you replied, avoiding his watchful gaze as you stuff your bra into your bag too. “Tonight.”

You shucked your apron and looked out at the heavy rain hitting the windows of the cafe. Your nerves had been on edge all day and now your mood was miserable too. Walking home was going to be a bitch.

You pulled out your phone, biting your lip for the hundredth time that day, and contemplated cancelling your study session. You knew you wouldn’t be able to concentrate—

Bzzt!

You almost dropped your phone as it vibrated in your hands.

Jongin was calling you.

You put the phone to your ear. “Hello?”

“Hey, you done work?”

“Um, yes.” You looked out the window and frowned. The rain was coming down in sheets. “But I’m stuck here for a bit. I might need to cancel—”

“Want me to pick you up?”

Your mouth stopped mid-sentence, unsure what to say. “I...The rain is really heavy,” you sputtered. “It’s too dangerous to drive.”

You could hear keys jingling in the background. “I’ll go slow.”

“Don’t you have soccer practice soon?”

“Cancelled,” he said. “‘Cause of the rain.”

Of course.

“Let’s just have our study session early today,” he continued. “Then we can end early and you can get home and sleep.”

You agreed, only because ending earlier meant that you might still have enough energy to stop yourself from climbing all over Jongin.

Your futile hopes didn’t work.

For the last forty-five minutes, you had been mashing mouths with Kim Jongin.

You couldn’t even believe people were able to mash mouths for that long.

You pulled away for some air, brushing the hair out of your face. You still had all your clothes on, and Jongin was only naked from the waist up. That had to be a good thing.

You licked your swollen lips, loving the way his gaze flickered down to watch your tongue.

“Still just friends?” he teased, referring to the conversation the two of you had shared in the car.

He had been the first to bring it up, and you had been the one to have the final say that the two of you were just friends. He had let you win with a slow nod and a wide smirk.

That smirk was dancing on his lips right now as he watched you.

You climbed off him and hugged a pillow instead. “I don’t know,” you confessed.

He sat up with you—his nearness was a little overwhelming—but didn’t touch you. You could see his bulge though, and you knew how much your own body was responding to him as well.

You were torturing the both of you.

“Then what do you know?” he asked.

The question surprised you.

You knew numbers and equations. Formulae and diagrams.

Feelings, though? They confused you.

“I know that I like this,” you answered, waving a hand between the two of you.

He had on a gentle smile as he leaned in. “Like what?”

You gulped, your hands waving a bit more frantically. “This. You and me.”

“But?”

Ah, great, this was the big question. He just didn’t get it, did he? That he was the popular guy in school and that after this was over, he would go on and have lots of fun with other girls and live a great ball-kicking life.

Whereas you would be back here, going over graphs, tables, and the feeling of his tongue grazing your skin. Because in all these years of your life, you had never gone this far with anybody.

And the probability of it ever happening again was slim.

“But I don’t want to get hurt,” you blurted out, staring hard at the pillow in your lap.

You felt a finger pick up a lock of your hair, playing with it, and then tucking it behind your ear. The motion made your heart ache a little.

“You think I would hurt you?” The edge of pain in his voice caused a pang in your chest and you absently rubbed at it.

You shook your head fervently because you knew he wouldn’t. “Not intentionally.” He was a nice guy who worked hard for the things he wanted. He lived life as life came, and you wished you could be like him.

But you were rigid and by the book. You didn’t know how to stray from what you knew.

“Let’s do this like a study session.”

You watched in confusion as he pulled the pillow from your arms. “What?”

“I want to touch you and you want to be touched,” he said as if it was the most logical fact in the world and not the most embarrassing. He raised his brow at you. “Am I correct?”

Your face was getting unbearably hot, but you still nodded.

“Then let’s do an anatomy lesson. You be the teach, I’m the student.” He tossed the pillow to the side and crossed his legs. “Like usual, right?”

Your eyes widened. “S-sure.”

He grinned. “Then lie down, oh wise one.”

Covering your laugh with your hand, you laid down on the bed, getting more comfortable now that you knew Jongin was being playful. He liked to call you weird names when he knew you were getting frustrated or nervous or impatient with him. Really, anytime at all.

He sprawled out next to you, propping himself up with one elbow. “Now,” he said, “how should I begin? Do you like gentle?”

He grazed his fingers along your stomach, causing a tickle. You tried hard not to be squeamish.

“Or not?” His hand came around to grab your butt, giving it a harsh squeeze.

You let out a harsh breath and squeezed your thighs together because suddenly you were getting wet again.

He didn’t let go of your ass as he patiently waited. “I need an answer, miss, or else I won’t know how to move onto the next question.”

“Not,” you choked out. “Not gentle.”

That was it. The floodgates were open. No turning back now.

Jongin gave a low chuckle and licked the ring of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “I’m glad I was right. I have a chance of passing.”

You wanted to tell him that he was usually right, that he was smart and knew how to figure out problems by himself. But now was not the time. Not when his hand was coming up your side and grazing underneath your breast.

Like last night, your bra was gone but your shirt was still on. You didn’t want him to see you naked, but you loved it when he palmed your breast.

He surprised you by taking your nipple in between his thumb and forefinger and giving it a tug.

You arched off the bed, looking down at the way your nipple strained through the thin fabric of the shirt.

“Oops,” Jongin remarked. “Wrong spot. I want to change my answer.”

He pinched the other nipple, sending you flying off the bed again.

Jongin made a contemplative noise. “Hmm, I don’t think that’s it either.”

Then he squeezed both nipples at the same time, all with a devilish smile as he watched you bite back a moan. He rolled your nipples between his fingers, worrying them through your shirt.

“Hey teach, I think I’ve got the hang of it. There can’t be more to this stuff, right?” he asked as he lazily flicked your nipples back and forth.

You shook your head, partly in answer to his question, and partly because he was being ridiculous with his play.

“Really?” he acted surprised. “I wonder what more there could be. I must be stupid because I can’t figure it out for the life of me.”

Oh, he was going to make you ask for it.

You refrained from rolling your eyes and instead parted your feet to either side just a bit.

His eyes followed the action but he didn’t move. “I don’t get it.”

The little fucker...

You opened your legs a bit more.

He blinked. “I don’t see anything.”

You made a noise of frustration. “This is an exception for you, Jongin,” you muttered as you unbuttoned your shorts and lifted your hips to take your pants off.

Your underwear snagged and came off with your shorts, but you were too embarrassed to backtrack. Instead, you cursed and shoved everything off, kicking it over the edge of the bed.

The cold instantly hit you and made you come to your senses. You closed your legs, realizing that you were flashing your vagina at Kim Jongin.

He grabbed your ankles and splayed your legs wide. “Just what I wanted to see!” he exclaimed with too much enthusiasm and too much gleam in his eyes. “My teacher’s juicy cunt!”

You slapped your hand over your mouth, unsure whether to laugh at his words or die of embarrassment. “Jongin!” you managed to shout over your giggles.

“What?” He leaned in, throwing your legs over his shoulders. “You have provided me with a real-life anatomical model. I must appreciate it.” He rubbed his thumbs up and down your folds.

You moaned, arching into his touch. “Don’t call it a cunt,” you chided.

“Then what should I call it?” he asked, sliding a finger into you. “A swollen pussy? Because that’s what it is.”

Not a second later, he was adding a second finger and then a third. You were panting like a dog. How had he managed to stretch you so quickly?

Those forty-five minutes of making out sure did the job.

“Oh teach, you’re sucking me in. Is this how you’re going to take a cock?” he teased as he pumped his fingers in and out. “My cock?”

You whimpered as you reached a hand down, tangling your fingers in his hair. You wanted more. His arm slithered under your shirt, pushing it up until it revealed your breasts and you watched as he squeezed a hard nipple.

But it wasn’t enough.

“Am I correct to assume that there are extra points for thinking outside the box?” he asked as he watched you writhe underneath him.

You nodded fervently. Whatever he was thinking, you needed it to happen.

“Then I think it’s time for me to give it 110%”

Jongin leaned down and moved his tongue over your folds, licking the juices that poured out from between his fingers. Then his tongue moved over your clit.

He flicked it. Once, twice.

You bucked from the bed.

He swirled his tongue around your clit, toying with it.

“Jongin,” you begged as you fisted your hand in his hair. His fingers made lewd noises as they plunged into your core.

He put his lips around your clit and sucked. Hard.

The orgasm hit you like a wave, crashing over you until you weren’t sure if your body was still on the bed or not. All you could feel was Jongin inside you, his mouth, his tongue, his hand.

Suddenly, he was on top of you, holding your hips up to his. You ground against the bulge in his jeans, rubbing out your orgasm to make it last.

“I’d fuck you like this,” he growled, thrusting his hips forward to give you more friction.

You cried out as another wave hit you.

He let go and pumped his hips frantically against your sensitive pussy, making sure that every thrust hit that sweet spot.

You thought you saw stars.

You clutched his shoulders as he groaned his release, but you were still coming off of your own.

Jongin cursed as he kneaded your ass, sending shockwaves down to your toes. “How did I do, teach?”

You could barely catch your breath as you lowered your hips out of his grip. “Good,” you managed while gasping for air. “Great. A-plus.”

He rolled on his back and pulled you in, tucking you under his arm. “Is it good enough to get another reward like the pizza last night?”

You laughed, the sound of it both exhausted and delirious. How many orgasms did you just have again? “You liked the pizza that much?”

“No,” he said, playing with a lock of your hair. “I have a favour to ask of you.”

“Hmm?” Your eyes were fluttering shut, too tired to stay open.

“Will you stay here tonight?” he murmured into your hair. “At least until the morning?”

You shifted your body, relaxing into his chest. You were so comfortable, he couldn’t pry you off of him if he tried. “I can’t do my walk of shame this time?” you joked.

His grip tightened. “Never.”

---

Can you believe it? I wrote two things in two days??? I must be on my period!! (I am T_T). Anyway, I’ve always wanted to write the teacher-student dynamic but never felt entirely comfortable with it LOOL Also I’m reading Devi’s Distraction by Ruby Dixon and the hero is like a jock and the heroine is the quiet nerd and he needs her help after a trauma to try to live a normal life and find a girlfriend AND ENDS UP LIKING HER AND IT’S TOO MANY FEELINGS FOR ME BECAUSE SHE’LL BE SO WRAPPED UP IN HER DINOSAUR RESEARCH AND THEN SUDDENLY HE’LL TEASE HER A LITTLE AND SHE GETS ALL FLUSTERED AND OMGGGGGG (dislaimer: this is a very condensed version of the plot). I have a huuuge soft spot for jock-nerd tropes ;___; Hope you guys liked the story and have a great day!

#exo #kai #exo scenarios #Kai scenarios #kpop #kpop scenarios #jongin #exo smut #smut #jock #nerd #teacher #student #OH YEEEEAH!!!

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astronomyparkers · 5 years ago

Text

Observant {II}

Warnings: Language

Pairing: Peter Parker x Michelle Jones

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: alright SO once again we petermj stans have been blessed with content which has inspired me to continue this fic. originally, this was going to be the last part, but i have an idea for a third part so...there’s AT LEAST one more coming. I was going to combine it with this part, but I wanted part 2 to be in peter’s pov, and the next part to be in michelle’s pov, so that means more chapters!!!!! I really really hope you like this. please let me know if you do!! and again, please note I DO NOT HAVE A TAGS LIST!!!!! THE REASON WHY IS IN MY FAQ!!!! ANY/ALL MESSAGES REGARDING THIS WILL BE DELETED!!!!

{masterlist}

By the time Peter Parker realized he had fucked up, he was already home in bed.

The day had been as normal as the day of a teenage superhero in New York could be. He had gone to school, aced an English pop quiz on Macbeth, and had lunch with Ned and Michelle. He had even made Michelle laugh, an honest-to-God, uncontrollable laugh, with one of his jokes, which normally just earned him an eyeroll, and, occasionally, the smallest of smirks. Next had come chemistry, where he began mixing a new batch of web fluid without anyone detecting him, and robotics club after that. It wasn’t until he was patrolling after school that things had taken a turn for the abnormal.

When Peter had seen the car coming for Michelle, he first thought he wouldn’t make it to her in time. The thought of not being able to save her…Peter turned over onto his back in bed, rubbing his eyes. He couldn’t allow himself to think of what could have happened. Instead, he focused on what did happen. He saved MJ. He pulled her away from the car, he made sure she was okay, held her in his arms…

Peter cleared his throat, squeezing his eyes shut. Holding MJ so close to him…he had liked it more than he should.

Michelle Jones had been a bit of an enigma for so long that when she began to open herself up to Peter, he had dived in head first. Getting to know Michelle was a privilege that she didn’t grant to many people, and Peter didn’t take the gift lightly. Every time Michelle let down a bit of her guard in front of Peter, he felt a sense of pride, which turned into affection, which turned into…

Peter wasn’t sure. He knew he admired MJ; she was one of the smartest people he knew, not just at school, but on the streets, too. She taught him all about social issues, helped him challenge himself in how he acted and the things he did, and so much more. She was witty and honest and observant and beautiful. To some, she was abrasive, but to Peter…she was everything.

Peter sighed to himself and rubbed his eyes again. Everything wasn’t exactly how someone was supposed to think of their best friend. And yet.

The events of that day entered Peter’s mind again. He had pulled Michelle tight to him as he swung her away from the car crash, and checking to make sure she was okay had been just as much for him as it was for her. He knew he wouldn’t have been able to leave until he knew MJ was okay. And MJ, in her typical fashion, told him to go back to saving people. He had nodded, reached for a high-five, and tried not to get flustered when she seemed flustered. She had tucked her hair behind her ears, and he loved the look on her face. He was almost upset when he had to say goodbye, but—

Peter’s eyes snapped open. It was then that he realized his mistake. And to make the mistake with Michelle, someone who noticed everything…

But then again, it could only have happened with Michelle. Michelle Jones was the only person who could make him so flustered that he forgot that Spider-Man didn’t know who she was, let alone her name, or her nickname (which she herself said only her friends called her).

“Jesus, Parker.” Peter groaned under his breath, sitting up in bed. “You idiot.”

Peter rubbed his forehead, trying to ward off the headache he knew was inevitable. Calling Michelle by her nickname was second nature to him now, and he hadn’t been able to stop it from slipping off his tongue. But then again, she was shocked and dazed from the incident. Maybe she didn’t notice.

Peter snorted as soon as the thought entered his head. She was MJ. Of course she noticed. She noticed everything. There was no point planning for what to do if she knew his secret. Peter had to plan for how to approach the subject to her. It was too late to do anything preventative. No, Peter had shut the door on that option the moment he was unable to shut his mouth. Damage control, that was what he needed to do now. It was the only thing he could do.

When Peter made it to school the next day, he was a nervous wreck. He had barely slept the night before, had hardly touched his breakfast. May even thought that he was sick, insisting on checking his temperature before he left the house. Part of Peter thought that it would’ve been easier to lie to her and say he was ill, so that he wouldn’t have to face MJ at school. But Peter hated lying to his aunt, and besides…he wasn’t very good at it. Instead, he took his usual subway train to school (with people giving him a wide berth due to his appearance), grabbed the books he needed from his locker, and made his way to his first class.

Michelle was already there when Peter arrived, sitting in her usual seat that was one row over and two rows up. Her messy curls were tucked into her usual haphazard bun, and she was wearing a grey t-shirt with a blue jacket overtop. Her posture was hunched over as she doodled in her notebook, paying little attention to those around her.

Peter kept staring as he walked to his seat, sitting down smoothly and quickly. Students were still filing in, moving between his line of vision to Michelle, but she still hadn’t looked up.

An uneasy feeling creeped into Peter’s stomach. Was MJ mad at him? Was she angry that Peter hadn’t trusted her with his secret? When he had been running potential confrontation scenarios in his head last night, the possibility of her being angry hadn’t crossed Peter’s mind.

Steeling himself, Peter took a deep breath. There was only one way to find out.

“Hey, MJ.” Peter called quietly across the desks.

Michelle looked up, glancing over her shoulder at Peter. She gave him a curt nod before looking back down at her notebook.

The greeting, by anyone else’s standards, might have been a little icy, but it was a typical response from Michelle. There was no way for Peter to tell if she was mad or not from that interaction. He was about to get out of his seat and talk to her when the teacher called the class to order, and the opportunity was gone.

Peter spent most of the class staring at his friend, trying to see inside her mind. Not for the first time, he wished that his spider-sense was less intuition and more telepathic. If Peter had a nickel for every time he wished he could read MJ’s thoughts, then he would’ve been richer than Mr. Stark.

The moment the bell rang, he began making his way to her, but she already darted out of the classroom, headed to her next class. Peter thought he’d find her at lunch, but she was mysteriously absent.

“Do you know where MJ is?” He asked Ned, looking around the crowded cafeteria.

“No.” Ned shook his head. “She’s probably reading a new book or something, and didn’t want us to interrupt her.”

“Yeah.” Peter echoed, still scanning the cafeteria. “Probably.”

Peter struggled through all his classes that day, barely able to focus on the tasks at hand. When Peter saw Michelle in chemistry, she was still acting the same, like there was nothing wrong. Was she really this unbothered by discovering his secret? Peter wished he could share her carefree attitude; he had already sweat straight through his t-shirt, and had to change into a spare Midtown sweater from his locker.

Decathlon practice after school was the same story. Michelle didn’t say anything to Peter before or during practice, and Peter was left staring at her as she asked the team questions. He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice any of Flash’s crude jokes at his expense. All he could focus on was talking to Michelle.

Peter finally caught up with her after practice. She was speaking to Mr. Harrington, so Peter dropped his notebook on purpose, the pages scattering everywhere. He told Ned to leave the papers, that he could get them himself. He took his time cleaning them up, just finishing as Mr. Harrington left the auditorium. That was when Peter spoke up.

“Hey, MJ.” He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. “Can—can we talk?”

“Sure.” She walked over to him, handing him one of his papers that he had missed on the ground. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I-I just—yesterday, I—you know…” Peter trailed off, his ears flushing pink. He couldn’t find the right words to say.

“Yesterday…what?” Michelle asked in confusion, her brow furrowed. “What about yesterday?”

Peter frowned. “What do you mean, what about yesterday?”

“I mean, I don’t know what you’re talking about, Peter.” Michelle pulled her backpack over her shoulder. “Did something happen yesterday?”

Peter nodded slowly. “The car crash…?”

“Oh.” Michelle’s face slipped for just a second before returning to her neutral expression. “Did you see that? I didn’t spot you in the crowd…”

“You didn’t spot—you—” Peter faltered again. “What?”

“It was pretty busy, though, so I guess that’s why.” She shrugged. “Thanks for the concern, but I’m fine.”

“You’re…fine. Right. Because Spider-Man saved you.” Peter said slowly.

Michelle nodded. “Yeah. You saw it, right?”

Peter blanked for a moment before stammering out a response. “Y-yeah! Yeah, I saw it. From the crowd, right. It was…yeah. He saved you.”

“Lucky me.” Michelle said, glancing at her watch. “I’m kind of running late, Peter. Was there anything else you needed to talk about?”

Peter’s breathing was evening out, his heartbeat finally slowing. Was it possible…Michelle really hadn’t noticed? “No, that…that was it. I just wanted to check up on you.”

“Okay. Well…see you around.” Michelle waved slightly before exiting the auditorium.

“Yeah. See you.” Peter said weakly, watching Michelle disappear.

Peter couldn’t believe his luck. Had Michelle really not noticed Spider-Man call her MJ the day before? He thought it couldn’t be true, but…maybe the adrenaline and shock of the entire incident had distracted her. Maybe she really hadn’t noticed. Maybe, for once in her life, Michelle Jones hadn’t been completely observant.

Peter breathed a sigh of relief, a small smile creeping onto his face as he exited the auditorium. For once in his life, luck seemed to be on his side.

Michelle watched Peter walk down the steps of the school, a spring in his step. When he reached the fence, he glanced around quickly before jumping over, landing smoothly on the other side. He dusted himself off before continuing on his way. From her spot behind the stone steps of the school, Michelle sighed. She really had no idea how Peter had kept his powers a secret this long. But for now, she would help him do it. After all, he had saved her life. The least Michelle could do was save his secret.

Of course, neither of them knew the trouble that lied ahead, or how impossible that task would become. All they knew was the buzzing feeling that came with protecting someone you cared about, and the lengths they would go to help the other person. And really, in that moment, that was all that mattered.

For a moment, anyways.

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