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hauntedbythefanficsofmypast · 4 years ago

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Spiderbug Siblings

Peter sighed to himself struggling not to pout as he sat through the meeting. He was continuously reminding himself that he was the one that begged his father to bring him along, but he didn't think it was going to be this boring. Usually he was more than happy to take over different things at SI to give his father a break, such as paper work and meetings his dad really-really didn't want to go to. However this meeting had sucked his soul out ten minutes in. He missed the glances he was getting from said father, who had noticed his son's complete and utter boredom.

Tony struggled not to smirk as his son deflated. He had warned him that this meeting was the worst one he'd ever been to. Tony discreetly moved his hands under the table, flicking his right wrist causing a holographic keyboard to appear on his forearm. He quickly typed out a message before sending it to Peter.

Peter's wristwatch vibrated softly, alerting him to the message. He moved his left arm under the table before flicking it allowing the message to appear across his arm.

'Kiddo, go ahead and stand up saying this in french. "Ladies, Gentlemen, I hate to cut this short but unfortunately I have another meeting to get to. My father however will be remaining behind, I sincerely hope our business deal goes through." Then go have some fun, I know you're dying inside right now so go.'

Peter closed his eyes smiling softly before giving his father a barely noticeable nod, standing up and apologizing in French. He shook a few people's hands before giving them a bright smile and a nod to his dad, turning and leaving the room.

"Je me suis demandé quand il allait enfin s'ennuyer.(1)" One of the women said, turning to Tony with a teasing smile, causing him to burst into laughter.

Peter was more than happy to strip out of the suit and into a pair of jeans, a t-shirt with a silly science meme, his black converse and a green hoodie. He had planned to go check out the young man that applied to MIT and the Stark Industries Internship Program after the meeting, however he thought now would be better than ever. Peter knew that after a quick talk with the Principal he'd be allowed to sit in on the class in the back unannounced to see Max Kanté in action. He ran a hand through his hair before checking his phone's battery life, satisfied that it was at seventy-eight percent. His Stark watch was at sixty-five percent as well, so he knew that he'd only have to charge them once he got back to Le Grand Paris. Pulling out the file on Max, he decided that walking to Lycée Françoise Dupont would be rather relaxing and give him the time to stretch his legs. Plus if his calculations were right, which they usually always were, he'd be there by lunch time. Giving him enough time to talk with the Principal and the man's teacher, then find a place to sit in the back. While leaving the luxury hotel he put on his Edith sunglasses watching as directions to the school popped up, then pulled his hood up, and placed his Stark buds in. He left giving little more than a glance to the paparazzi planted firm outside, he knew they'd be waiting to get pictures of his father or him, after all their pictures sold for big bucks. He fidgeted nervously with his sunglasses until he was finally out of the paparazzi's sight. Letting out a breath he took out his phone hitting play on his album filled with Ella Fitzgerald music. He relaxed listening to it allowing the glasses to guide him through Paris. 'I really need to convince dad to market these. After the failure that Google created people would be skeptical, but having the Stark logo on it would cause many to trust them.' Peter thought about it drawing up blueprints in his head as he walked not paying attention to the outside world. Definitely not noticing the car heading towards him as he crossed the street heading to the school, until his senses started screaming at him.

"Monsieur, soyez prudent!(2)" Marinette cried out as she ran towards Peter tackling him back onto the sidewalk, his hood dropping and his sunglasses flying off his face. The car honked loudly as it skidded to a stop. Both teens turned to it wide eyed and apologizing profusely, in near panic attack states which ended up with the driver worried for them. They waved him on both stating that they were fine and just in a little bit of shock as they sat side by side on the sidewalk.

"Thank you." Peter said after a few moments of them just taking deep breaths together. Marinette looked up at him, blue-grey eyes meeting toffee brown eyes, before she glanced away. She picked up his sunglasses holding them out to him with a tired smile.

"English, yes? You're quite far from home are you not Mister? After all your accent is clearly not British so I'm assuming the States, not the south though I'm thinking from the north maybe the east?" Peter blinked in surprise, finally taking in the young woman that had saved him. Marinette was side sitting leaning against the light pole next to her. Midnight black hair was pulled into a long fishtail braid that went past her waist, Peter knew that once out of the braid her hair would be even longer. Her clothes were designer, M.D. specifically, something that would cause his dad slight annoyance since the designer still hadn't gotten back to him. She wore a soft pink cold shoulder tunic sweater, with black jeans that were loose enough for full mobility but tight enough not to sag or get caught on anything. She had a black and pink backpack on and a small matching purse, both clearly made by M.D. as well. He smiled politely, taking his sunglasses back and carefully sliding them into his pocket.

"Yes I'm from the States. New York to be specific but I've traveled all over. You speak English?" He asked before adjusting his position sitting criss-cross in front of her. Marinette laughed softly nodding.

"I have learned a few languages, French is obviously my first, English was my fourth and hardest to learn!" She exclaimed, rolling her eyes and throwing her arms up in exasperation. Peter laughed loudly nodding his head with a slight smirk.

"Ah yes, English is hard and weird. For instance read and lead rhyme, and read and lead rhyme. But read and lead don't rhyme, and neither do read and lead!" Peter said his smirk grew when Marinette groaned glaring at him before punching him softly in the arm. "Sorry, sorry I had to do it." Peter said rubbing his arm as they settled down. Marinette simply rolled her eyes shaking her head. "But seriously thank you, not many people would risk themselves to save another. You're amazing Miss." Marinette gave him a sad smile not meeting his eyes anymore.

"Well, I'm afraid not many people think that about me. Besides it was the right thing to do, I couldn't just let you get hit when I could do something." Suddenly her purse shifted slightly almost like something inside was moving to press closer to the girl. Peter just barely noticed it, but could tell the girl took note of it right away. She stood up brushing the dirt off her pants, and Peter followed her up. "I'm afraid I must go, we've already spent quite a bit of time sitting here and if I want something to eat before my next class I must go. Au revoir Monsieur." Marinette turned heading down the street to a cafe, Peter turned watching her go but not moving.

"Wait!" He called out quickly shocking himself and the girl as she turned around curiously. "What's your name?" He asked, blinking when a mischievous smile covered the girls face.

"My name is Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way, and I'll see you around." Peter's eyes widened and a burst of laughter left him causing the girls eyes to alight with mischief. "I'll see you around Monsieur." She said before continuing on, Peter watching her as she leaves. He resisted jumping when Karen talked to him over his Stark buds.

"That was a meme was it not? Searching the web for it, oh. I understand that, that was very funny, yes? After all I believe this is what one would call a 'crack' fic." Peter held back his laughter as he crossed the street continuing to the school. He really hoped he'd see the girl again, he knew his dad would love her. He himself already felt a connection to the girl that had saved his life. He walked into the school heading to the office. He greeted the office secretary explaining why he was there and asking to talk with the Principal Damocles and Mr. Kanté's teacher Ms. Bustier. The secretary was quick to let him in and summon Bustier to the office. Peter took the time to explain to Principal Damocles that he simply wished to sit in the back of the class and observe the young man. Damocles was quick to please Peter, and it didn't escape his notice causing his opinion of the Principal to drop. He was quick to introduce himself when Bustier arrived, but allowed Damocles to explain what was going on. Ms. Bustier quickly agreed before escorting Peter back to her class room, telling him all about her class. He barely paid attention however once he realized that she was attempting to take complete credit for her students accomplishments. That was until she mentioned her 'bad egg' at least in her opinion.

"I just don't know what happened, Marinette used to be such a good student. She was the class role model, and everyone would go to her when they needed help. Then out of nowhere she just started bullying this girl that joined my class! She told me the girl was faking everything no matter how much I told her that the girl's condition was no excuse to treat her like that. I kept trying to get her on the right path but couldn't. Now she just sits in the back of the class and no one will talk to her. I've even had to exclude her from class outings because she still won't leave the girl alone! Honestly I always told her that no one will get better if you don't give them chances. Lila won't become a better person if Marinette continues to target and try to expose her. I'm just glad that Adrien is on my side and agrees." Peter frowned, giving the teacher's back a dirty look as he took in what she said, piecing a few things together. 'So this student is a pathological liar, but they're covering for her with some lying condition. Marinette, who was the designated role model, caught on and tried to expose her. However, Bustier and Adrien don't agree so they allow her to be excluded. Wow, I really hope Mr. Kanté does not fall for the lies. I'd hate for his intelligence to go to waste. After all not everyone can create a highly-functional robot, that manages to develop emotions on its own. Falling for lies is something that would hurt him incredibly in the eyes of SI.' Peter smiled politely when the teacher turned to him once they arrived at the door.

"Would you like a seat at the front Mr. Stark?" Bustier asked as she opened the door walking in with him behind her, Peter shook his head as he took in the room. "We only have two seats open one in the front and one in the back." Bustier finished turning and watching Peter look around the room.

"No," he said, not missing as she tensed up slightly. "I need to be able to observe Mr. Kanté. If I sit in the front everyone will notice me turned to look at him. I'll take the back seat, where does he sit now?" Bustier glanced at the spot at the front where Chloe Bourgeois used to sit, and then the one in back by Marinette.

"Are you sure Mr. Stark? Unfortunately the one in the back is by my problem student and I'd rather you not get a bad impression of the class because of her." Peter gave her a tight smile as she rambled on about why it would be better for him to sit in the front. He let out a sigh as she continued on, and wished his father was with him. Knowing Tony wouldn't care about being rude to the women, where Peter himself couldn't pull the courage up.

"Yes Ms. Bustier I am positive. I will take the seat in the back, now please tell me where Mr. Kanté sits and then where my seat will be." Bustier sighed knowing that she wouldn't win this one, she had hoped she could convince him to sit there. That way he could see the entirety of the class and they would see him, the class would also know to behave themselves. They won't pay much attention to him when they walk in and he is sitting in the back.

"Very well, Max sits on the left side, third row and closest to the window. Your seat will be on the right side, last row and next to the wall. Peter nodded before thanking her and walking up to his temporary seat, sitting down and pulling out his phone. "Lunch ends in twenty minutes so the classroom will slowly start filling up." He gave her a smile showing that he heard her before returning to his phone. He pulled up his group chat with Shuri, MJ, and Ned, knowing that it was almost seven am in New York, and that Shuri only slept when forced to. He smiled reading the argument between Ned and MJ.

Guy in the Chair- I don't want to eat at Veselka after school today! I want to eat at Lil' Frankie's!

MJ- I can almost hear you whining through my phone screen. Send me a picture of the face you're making, I want to add it to my sketch book.

Guy in the Chair- Seriously MJ?

Guy in the Chair- I'm not sending you a picture of my face.

Princess Memes a lot- You Americans are so silly. Here MJ.

Image.pn

Guy in the Chair-...

Guy in the Chair- Seriously?

Guy in the Chair- Did you seriously hack my phone to send her a picture of me?

Princess Memes a lot- Hack is such a strong word, I simply introduced my computer to your phone's systems.

Guy in the Chair- I hate this. I can't do anything in retaliation, chemistry is what I'm good at not technology. I can't get revenge. Peter help me bro!

Peter-man- Sorry Ned, I'm not going up against Shuri. She is scary smart, and I'd rather live to see Captain America and his group of runaways finally realize all the changes we've made to the Accords.

Princess Memes a lot- Listen to my favorite colonizer Nedy-boy.

Peter-man- Awe, I'm your favorite colonizer? I thought for sure it would be my Dad.

Princess Memes a lot- Oh no, I do love you father. You and him are some of the only people that can give me a challenge. On top of that he got so excited when he discovered I was smarter than him, I thought for sure he'd want to adopt me.

Peter-man- Oh dad did, however you're a Princess and dad knows his money would get him nowhere in Wakanda. Instead he has settled for us being friends, that way he can subtly drop hints to invite you over for some science time.

Peter-man- I'll talk with you all later have a good day in classes MJ, Ned. And Shuri please get some sleep, I'd rather your brother not blame us for keeping you up again.

Guy in the Chair- Bye Peter!

MJ-middle finger emoji*

Princess Memes a lot- He can't force me to sleep if he can't find me!!

Peter- Love you too MJ and good luck with that Shuri.

Peter placed his phone down as people slowly made their way into the classroom. It was obvious to him that none even noticed him as they talked together excitedly. The volume of the class got louder until four people walked in, everyone was zeroing in on the girl hanging off the blonde's arm. Peter grimaced at her terrible hair style and decided that MJ would love to draw this girl, so he held up his phone taking a picture of her. He noticed a girl slip in behind them but his attention was stolen by the girl once again as she continued her story.

"Oh Alya! You would absolutely love New York city!! I'll have to see if Tony will allow you to come with me next time!" The girl said fairly loud her smile was bright but Peter could spot a fake smile from miles away. He'd learned that skill rather fast as he grew up, after all he needed to when his father was in one of his spirals. "Oh! I suppose I should let you know since I trust you so much! By Tony I mean Tony Stark!" She said giggling behind her hand as everyone gasped in surprise. "You see he is like a father to me! Him and his son Parker love me! We're like this!" She crossed her fingers winking at her classmates. Peter tensed fisting his hands trying to control his anger as he looked at Ms. Bustier who wouldn't not even turn around when the lie left her students lips. He watched as the students all sat down in their seats but they were all turned to the liar listening intensely.

"Wow you're that close to Tony Stark? I just applied for his internship program a few weeks ago, I haven't heard anything yet though." Max said excitedly as he pulled out his things for class. Lila immediately zeroed in on him, her eyes gleaming.

"Oh Max! I'll send Parker a message right away and tell him all about you! You know he runs the Internship Program there! Tony asked me to but I told him I just couldn't leave Paris for good until after school! I also told him he really needs to give Parker a chance!" She glanced around worriedly before turning to Alya. "You can post this if you want, but you didn't hear it from me okay? You see guys Parker had a rough time these past couple years. He fell into the wrong group of people and started bullying, drinking, and doing drugs! It was terrible and Tony was just heartbroken! I could barely console him, he almost kicked Parker out! I convinced him to give Parker a second chance though, and he is getting better, unlike someone we know...but Tony still doesn't trust him fully, so I thought Parker would be able to prove himself if he did good with the program. Unfortunately he does struggle so I have to help him a lot, but Tony cannot know that! Their relationship is finally fixing!" Peter's anger grew even more and it took all his control not to stand up and fight the girl right there. That is when he noticed Marinette sitting besides him tense as well but glaring at the desk and not Lila. "Well hello there Ebony." He said softly startling her slightly, Marinette looked up at him in slight shock as he smiled mischievously at her. "I must say, you look very different from the Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way that I've read about." Marinette blushed embarrassed before she let out a soft giggle covering her face with her hands.

"Oh my gooood," she said, dragging out the word. "I said that thinking I would probably never see you again, and now you're sitting next to me. God I don't know if you're there, but please kill me." Peter snorted softly but both of their eyes were on Lila again as she began talking about Tony and his son 'Parker' once again.

"Lying little squirrel." Peter mumbled glaring at the girl. "Parker Stark? Really did she even do her research? It's Peter Stark and the fact that Kanté is falling for her lies and trying to get in the easy way. This makes my decision easier." He opened the folder turning to Marinette holding out a hand. "May I borrow a pen Ms. Ebony." Marinette snorted, shaking her head and handing him a pen. He wrote denied across the paper and took a picture with his phone sending it to his dad before closing the folder and returning her pen.

"My name isn't Ebony obviously, I'm Marinette Dupain-Cheng." She said politely holding her hand out to shake, he shook it gently as she spoke again. "Are you a new student?" Peter chuckled smiling a little awkwardly as he shook his head.

"No I was here to observe Mr. Kanté in the classroom, ah let me introduce myself. Peter Stark, or from what the liar is calling me, Parker Stark." He rolled his eyes in exasperation, his smile still awkward. Marinette's eyes widened in slight shock as she started rambling to herself about how she tackled Tony Stark's son to the ground. Peter watched for a moment slightly amused at the woman's ramblings before squeezing her hand gently. "Listen, don't worry about it. If anything my dad would be thanking you profusely for saving me there. He wouldn't be upset, however once he hears about that little squirrel's lies. He will be more than pissed." Marinette snorted softly at his nickname for Lila; shel smirked, shaking her head. "Which by the way, can I get her full name? I want to have my lawyers here and ready with paperwork before I return to the states in five days." Her smirk grew as she pulled out a notebook and quickly wrote Lila's full name down before pausing and thinking a sadistic gleam in her eyes. Marinette turned to Peter tilting her head to the side innocently. "Tell me Parker Stark," she said using Lila's mess up causing him to laugh under his breath. "Do you happen to know Bruce Wayne or his kids?" Peter quirked an eyebrow before nodding and telling her that he was very close with Bruce's eldest son. "Well you see the little squirrel, as you call her has also lied about him and a few others." She turned back to the paper steadily making a list of all the people.

Tony and Peter Stark

The Wayne family

Lois Lane and Clark Kent

Jagged Stone

Clara Nightingale

The Justice League

The Avengers

M.D. Clothing

The sadistic glint didn't leave her eyes as a plan formed in her head. "You see, I can get in contact with Jagged, Clara, and M.D. if you can get a hold of the others. We could sue her all at once for slander and defamation of character. If you do this I'll convince M.D. to finally take your dad on as clientele." Peter grinned at her and held out his hand, shaking hers once she grabbed his.

"Well, my father would strangle me if I passed on an opportunity for him to finally get a M.D. suit and dress combo for him and mom. So you've got yourself a deal Miss Dupain-Cheng. If you can get Jagged, Clara, and M.D. on video chat, I can get the others. Do you think you could meet dad and me at Le Grand Paris tonight?" Marinette smirked a twinkle in her eye as Bustier called for the class's attention. Marinette rolled her, before turning to the front of the class.

"Since I am currently living at Le Grand Paris I can definitely meet you. Oh, Jagged and M.D. will be there in person. They live in Paris, Clara however is currently in Africa helping build houses, so we may be able to get her on a phone call but not video chat." Peter slumped in the chair and leaned over towards her slightly. "How about I give you a ride back then since we'll be going to the same place?" Marinette quirked an eyebrow before smiling and leaning against him getting comfortable in her seat.

"Very well Parker, I'll tell my driver I have a ride. Now don't move, you're quite comfortable." Peter snorted softly nodding before turning his eyes back on Max.

'It's a shame I was rather hopeful about him. I thought he'd be a great addition, if only he hadn't fallen for the squirrel.' He turned his gaze away and zeroed in on Bustier who was looking up at them. He could already tell that she wanted to reprimand Marinette for leaning against him. As she opened her mouth Peter sent her a sharp glare, staring her down until she looked away nervously. He sighed looking out the window in annoyance.

'Great, now I'm stuck here. At least I have Mari to keep me entertained judging by her eyes she is clearly zoned out. Something tells me she already knows what this sham of a teacher is going to be teaching today. She is smart, that is obvious, perhaps not as smart as Dad and me. Definitely not as smart as Shuri, but I'm pretty sure no one has her intelligence. She has connections too which is surprising at her age while being relatively unknown.' Peter wiggled slightly before settling down leaning against Marinette as well before closing his eyes.

Marinette waited until everyone had filed out of the class before waking Peter up. She gently shook him snorting as he looked around in confusion. His eyes finally landed on Marinette and a warm smile covered his face. She snorted again, as she packed up her stuff.

"Maybe you should call up your driver that way we won't wait for long." Marinette said, pulling her backpack on as Peter sent out a quick message.

"Mr. Stark, before you go! I'd like to talk with you about what my student Lila said." Bustier said at the front of the classroom, flinching when Peter glared at her.

"Oh, you mean how she decided to lie about my father and me. Or maybe about how she didn't even know my name, but decided to tell everyone that I was a bullying, drunk, drug addict? Is that what you want to talk about? Or do you want to talk about how throughout her entire speech you said nothing knowing damn well that I was sitting in the back." Peter walked down the stairs, Marinette following behind him. When Bustier stepped in front of Peter stopping him from leaving Marinette grabbed his upper arm squeezing it gently.

"Mr. Stark Lila has a condition that causes her to lie. The Principal and I decided not to inform the class because she'd never have friends if we did." Peter shook his head stepping to the side and walking around her Marinette following.

"That is no excuse Bustier. If that Alya woman posts anything that she said today. Well, lets just say it will not be pretty. Come on Marinette, as my dad says often, this person isn't worth our time." Marinette held back a laugh before nodding and walking out the door still holding his arm. She pulled out her phone with her left hand and typed out a few quick texts. Smiling gently when she got responses, she leaned her head on his shoulder before slipping her phone into her purse. Waiting until Tikki tugged it gently signaling that Marinette could safely release her phone. They stood together at the entrance to the school until a Mercedes Benz pulled up and the driver got out opening the door for them. Peter helped Marinette in before climbing in himself, he laughed grinning at her shocked face. She glared slightly before turning her attention back on to the tablets built into the driver and passenger seats.

"Did you buy them like this?" She asked curiously, slipping her backpack off and putting it down by her feet, buckling up afterwards. Peter shook his head, grin not leaving his face as he buckled up.

"Nope, Dad and I tore it apart and built it together. It's fun bonding time ya know." Marinette smiled sadly glancing out the window looking at the now closed bakery. Her thoughts drifted to before everything happened, when her parents were happy and in love, and still wanted her. Her gaze left the building as the driver pulled into traffic.

"I used to bake with my parents all the time. We ran a bakery, Maman would spend time cooking with me, and Papa and I always played video games together. Every night until, we played every night." Peter's eyes widened and he reached out taking her hand and squeezing it. Marinette blinked looking down at his hand before turning hers and squeezing his hand back. They just sat silently for a while enjoying being together with the other. Neither teen knew why they were inexplicably drawn to each other. In the span of a few hours they were closer than normal, and barely knew each other. This didn't scare either of them though, it felt so natural for them to seek slight comfort with the other. To just be able to sit together and feel like nothing could go wrong. Marinette leaned against him resting her head on his shoulder closing her eyes.

"What happened to your parents?" Peter asked after a while moving to rest his head on top of hers when she tensed up. "You don't have to talk about it? I've just found that it's better to get things off your chest and out instead of letting it linger." Marinette huffed a slight smile taking over her face before disappearing.

"My parents got a divorce two months ago. They had been acting for so long that they were still in love, but had grown to hate each other. In turn that meant they started to hate me, I reminded them too much of the other. So neither of them wanted me, my mother left Paris returning to China. My father decided to go to Italy to stay with his extended family. I was left behind, my honorary Uncle took me in till I turned seventeen." Marinette used her free hand to gently wipe her tears away. She squeezed his hand taking a deep breath. "They left me with nothing but 'good luck'. I stayed with my Godmother for a while but I couldn't sleep on the couch. Then my Uncle offered to stay in Paris with me until my seventeenth birthday. After that I'm technically on my own, I have some money saved up so I could get a small apartment, not in Paris though." Peter brushed his thumb against her knuckles thinking to himself.

"So you're only sixteen? I'm seventeen." He said attempting to change the conversation, and from the giggle Marinette let out, she knew what he was trying to do. "What do you want to do when you graduate? I mean I'm just curious is all you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. Like most people like talking about it but I know some don't, but uh, I'm going to be working at SI. Oh and I am already taking college classes online from MIT!" Peter rambled on causing Marinette to laugh and his driver to cough in an attempt to hide his own chuckles.

"I want to go into fashion. I've always been in love with it, and want to have it in my future." Marinette smiled, patting his arm to calm him down. "I've even won a few design competitions, although thanks to Gabriel being unmasked as a supervillain my most distinguished one is gonna be crossed off." Peter raised an eyebrow before connecting the dots with Hawkmoth and the Agreste companies fall.

"I have to ask this after sitting through that god awful class. Do you even like that school?" Marinette groaned, shaking her head slightly. "Because I did notice you zone out in the class." Marinette snorted before nodding.

"See I finished everything online and my plan was to graduate early. However Bustier and Damocles wouldn't allow it, they told me I need my parents signature not my temporary guardian's. So I am stuck there until the end of the year. Especially since I don't have parents, so no one can sign. Child Services won't let my uncle adopt me, apparently he isn't a good role model. Which is kind of funny since he took me in when my parents just abandoned me." She was silent for a while thinking about her situation and Peter did not like silence on the girl.

"Is that how you know M.D. through design competitions?" Peter asked, causing Marinette to laugh softly, wondering how to tell him that she was M.D. "I mean I just noticed that your entire outfit, plus backpack and purse are both M.D. and obviously exclusives." Marinette shook her head as they pulled up outside the luxury hotel, both unbuckling and getting out when the driver opened the door. Marinette adjusted her back back walking up the steps.

"No actually, I've known M.D. my entire life. Now what's your hotel room? Jagged needs to know to meet us there, come on Parker don't leave me hanging." Peter glared playfully at Marinette before telling her their room number. She texted it to Jagged, nodding to the receptionist that greeted her, welcoming her back. "Mister Franco is always so nice, he has worked here for years now. To be honest I'm pretty sure he never takes a day off, he really loves his job." Peter nodded smiling at Franco, before stepping into the elevator with Marinette pressing the button to his floor. "Have you alerted the others to the video chat?" She asked looking up from her phone, meeting Peter's amused eyes. He nodded watching as she slipped her phone into her purse, he noted her pause before letting it drop completely. At first he chalked it up to her making sure the phone was actually in the purse, but then he remembered watching it move earlier in the afternoon. 'Is she keeping a pet in her purse?' He pondered silently as they stepped off the elevator onto his floor. He pulled out his card and opened the door, to be greeted with the amusing sight of his father and Jagged opposite ends of the couch. Tony had his feet pulled up and he stared down at the crocodile lazing on the floor in front of Jagged.

"Ah, Petey, Peter, my son, my first born, my rock when your mothers not around, please-please, explain why we are having a video conference with Bruce Wayne, our favorite reporters Lois and Clark, a Justice League representative, Carol as an Avengers representative, and Jagged Stone and his 'rock 'n roll' crocodile pet?" Tony said, not looking away from Fang for a second. Marinette snorted and walked in further dropping her bag on the floor by the couch, then kneeling down and starting to scratch Fang in his favorite places. Making him roll onto his back, tail waving like an excited puppy. Tony blinked, watching Marinette turn Fang into a cuddly puppy in seconds before turning to look at Peter with a raised eyebrow. "Alright, tell me what this is about." Peter rolled his eyes, slipping off his jacket and kicking his shoes off walking over to stand behind Marinette. Looking down at the crocodile in puzzlement.

"I can do you one better. Karen please play the audio from the class today, starting when Miss Rossi entered the classroom. Oh and Friday can you drag up as much dirt on Lila Rossi as possible." Both AI gave confirmation causing Peter to smile as he stepped around Marinette and Fang sitting down on the couch. He introduced himself to Jagged briefly before turning back to Marinette. "Think you can type up every little lie, while I get incontact with my lawyers." Marinette nodded, the gleam back in her eyes as she pulled her laptop out of her backpack. She waited till Fang rolled back onto his stomach before leaning against him and placing her laptop on her bent legs. The next couple minutes were filled with Tony raging over what the girl said. While Peter clung to his back in an attempt to stop him from suiting up and hunting the girl down. Jagged watched the scene amused sipping on a juice box he pulled from Marinette's bag. Fang was also greatly amused and wanted to join in with the two newcomers to his family but he knew his girl was busy, so moving wasn't an option for him. Marinette ignored them the entire time up until she finished. Then she starred, amused at Tony laying on his side, a grumpy pout on his face as Peter was still wrapped around him.

"Calm now?" She asked, her lips quirking up into a smirk as he leveled a grumpy glare at her. "Because I told Clara to call at five and it's almost time." Tony continued to be grumpy for a while before letting out a loud sigh and nodding.

"Let's get this show on the road, pinky." Marinette sent him a dry look raising an eyebrow before looking at Peter who grinned.

"That's his way of saying he likes you!" Marinette snorted before pulling out her phone before glancing back at Jagged, her eyes narrowing.

"Jagged, is that my juice box?" She asked already knowing that he was drinking the juice box from her backpack. Jagged glanced down at the juice in his hand before grinning at her.

"Well you see, I was thirsty and our hosts were obviously having a moment, and I'll buy you two more twelve packs of the juice boxes." Marinette nodded before turning her gaze off him, giving Tony her signature sunshine smile.

"Hello Mr. Stark, I'm Marinette Dupain-Cheng, I am unfortunately part of Lila Rossi's class, though at this point I'm the only one that seems to see through lies." She held her laptop out to Peter, who took it with a smile plopping down on the couch. He scrolled through the long list, Marinette had composed. "I'll be the one helping compile all the lies, you may want to make sure everything on the Ladyblog is documented. It used to be a reliable source about Paris's heros, but the reporter, um, correction tabloid writer now fell for Lila's lies." Tony nodded before telling Friday to look into the Ladyblog. A few minutes later Marinette received Clara's call, the two talked together in French until Tony had video connection with Bruce, Lois, Clark, Wonder Woman, and Carol. Everyone wondered what was going on until Peter sent them all the list of lies. Marinette placed Clara on speaker before speaking up to everyone. "A few years ago when I was still in college-ah, middle school for you American's. A girl named Lila Rossi transferred to my school, she spread lies throughout the class about famous people. I was able to see through her lies because she decided to lie about Jagged Stone. " She gestured to Jagged who waved at everyone from his spot. "She claimed that she saved his cat from getting hit by a plane and developed tinnitus from it. She also stated that Jagged Stone wrote a song about her, at the time she was thirteen. Then she claimed to be best friends with Parisian superhero, Ladybug. The hero in question shot those claims down very fast, however the girl twisted it telling everyone Ladybug was only saying that to protect her. The creator of Bugout did not believe the girl, and that is why Ladybug heavily backs her. The list Parker here sent you is every lie she has told about you, Clara I texted you the list." Peter gave Marinette a playful dirty look as Clara took over the conversation.

"Oh my, all these lies I can't believe my eyes!" Everyone looked confused at Clara's rhyming. "I can't believe her claims, all the people she is trying to deceive, and all the names." Clara gasped on her side causing many to wish they could see here. "Oh dear! She could have ruined your careers!" Marinette smiled softly when Clara said that. "She even mentioned your alternate ID, and this simply can't go unmentioned." Everyone looked at Marinette in slight confusion causing Marinette to give them an awkward smile.

"I'm sure all of you can see that she has mentioned that she knows M.D. the new famous designer who has kept out of the public eye. Well you all are lucky enough to meet M.D. before everyone else. It's a pleasure to meet you all, I am Marinette Dupain-Cheng and I run M.D. Clothing." Everyone stared at her in shock for a bit before the Stark lawyers joined the video chat. At the time they began making plans to take Lila down, and Marinette was at the center of the plans. "Tony and Peter leave in five days. His lawyers will be delivering her chargers, I want this to happen all at once." Everyone noted the determined glean in Marinette's eye, it reminded Tony of Pepper and he found himself about what his wife would think of this young woman. "If everyone has at least one of their lawyers to deliver them at the same time it will destroy her. That is why I suggest we do this during the school day, right before we are set to get out." Everyone agreed with doing it in front of the entire class. It was decided that Tony's lawyers wouldn't enter first, then Bruce's, followed by the Justice League's and the Avenger's, Jagged and Clara's would enter soon after, and then Marinette's lawyer would hand Lila her final lawsuit. After the video chats Marinette gave Peter a big hug smiling brightly as Jagged picked up her backpack and Fang's leash. "Thank you for all the help Peter!" She let go before shaking Tony's hand, her smile not slipping. "As promised, get me yours and Mrs. Stark's measurements and I will make you a M.D. suit and dress combo. I think royal blue with ivory accents will suit you both. Peter has my number, so that you can get me the information." She walked to the door Jagged and Fang following her. "Goodnight you two!" Marinette said as they stepped outside. Peter and Tony stood at the door wishing them goodnight before closing it. Tony immediately turned to Peter once it was closed, wanting an explanation for everything. Peter sat down explaining what all had happened after he left the meeting. Tony listened intently while also thinking to himself about Marinette.

"So Max Kanté is rejected for the Internship program, damn. At least we caught this girl before more lies could be spread. I can't believe she dared to claim that I would give up on my own son." Peter nodded before picking the remote on and turning on Star Wars, he placed his legs across Tony’s lap and leaned again his side for comfort.

“Ya, she is pretty stupid. Did she think no one would ever hear her lives now she has multiple people coming down on her in less than 5 days.”

“Also that Marinette girl, think I can adopt her? Like joint custody? Pep would love her, seriously together they could rule the world.”

“Well with a little money you might be able to. Her parents gave up custody of her and the government refused to let Jagged adopt her.”

Tony looked at Peter silent for a moment before nodding to himself.

“Friday-“

“Already drawing up adoption papers Boss. Pepper has been informed and she had this to say, ‘I give up, let him adopt the girl, I’ll have her registered for online schooling.’ Shall I bribe the person that receives the papers.”

“Yes but remember, I never said yes.”

That caused Peter to burst into laughter as he pulled out his phone, sending a text to his group chat.

Peter-man- New sister on the way guys. You’re gonna love her, dad just has to bride Child services.

Princess Memes a lot- Another science genius??

Peter-man- Nope, ever heard of M.D. Clothing?

Guy in the Chair- You’re joking.

MJ- Why am I not surprised by this.

Princess Memes a lot- You met M.D. and your Father is adopting her.

Princess Memes a lot- That’s it I’m taking a vacation to Paris, I’ll be there by tomorrow Peter. Ayo will be with me, and you will introduce the two of us to your new sister.

Peter-man- Understood Princess, although don’t mention the adoption to her just yet. I think I’m going to ease her into the family dynamic with us.

Princess Memes a lot- Very well Ayo and I will not mention a thing. I will make sure we are both dressed discreetly as well. That way we don’t have to explain why the Princess of Wakanda is in Paris.

Peter chuckled resting his head on Tony’s shoulder curling into his dad's side. Tony smiled, his eyes never wavering from the tv screen as he rubbed his son’s leg gently.

Marinette let out a content sigh as she dried her hair with a towel. She sat on a plush chair in front of a grand dollhouse that was opened so all the rooms could be seen. The Kwami say inside all talking happily, making sure that Duusu and Nooroo were comfortable. Marinette smiled down at them wrapping his hair in her towel before leaning back and looking out the window. Tikki and Plagg flew up to her causing the young woman to laugh softly. She held her hand out allowing them to sit down. “In a few days Lila will be drowning in lawsuits. I really can’t find it in myself to feel bad for her.” Plagg snorted leaning back against her fingers, while Tikki gave him a disapproving look.

“Honestly kid, all you had to do was say the word and I would’ve taken care of the brat.”

“Plagg!” Tikki said, glaring at him, causing the other Kwami to laugh softly with Marinette.

“What?! I didn’t mean kill her! I meant that I’d cut her hair into something that doesn’t look awful! Always jumping to conclusions aren’t you Sugarcube.” Tikki swatted the back of his head causing the cat goddess to fly away laughing hysterically.

“Oh leave him be Tikki. He wouldn’t dare do anything in fear of repercussions from you.” Marinette said softly, bringing Tikki closer to her face. “A few days left Tikki, I am so excited.” Tikki smiled, rubbing her thumb gently as she looked up at her chosen human, her creation soul. Tikki felt her power rise a few days ago and now she knew why. Instead of having just one and a half creation souls around her, she had three. Marinette will always be the soul that resonates with her the most but Peter is a pure creation soul. Then Jagged and Tony combined made the third, it was their pasts that caused half their souls to be that of destruction. Yet it was the fact that they still held half a creation soul that got her, yes they had a reason to be bad, yet they wouldn’t allow it. She was happy that they still held that half tightly, the only for once a human’s, that was not meant to hold Plagg, soul becomes full destruction they become the worst of the worse. Which is why Tikki was happy Lila was going down, her soul was so close to destruction it sickened Tikki. She knew that once that little bit of creation left, there would only be a monster, because she was definitely not suited to be a cat. Tikki looked over at her other half with a gentle smile knowing that they’d find Plagg’s true destruction soul soon as well.

“Princess, why are we going to Paris?” Ayo asked as she followed Shuri onto the jet. The servants following with their bags, placing them onto the plane.

“Stark is adopting a young woman.” Shuri said trying on her phone. She looked up meeting Ayo’s eyes with a slight smirk. “The girl is the M.D. herself, I simply must meet her. According to Peter they only just met her and Tony is already adopting her. Peter also seems to have formed a connection with the woman. So I must meet her, and out of all the Dora Milaje you are able to be perfectly discrete. Anyone seeing us will believe you are simply my older sister, which is what I need. Miss Marinette does not know about the adoption yet and Peter wishes to edge her in. So I will simply be seen as Peter’s friend that decided to visit, and this will keep us out of the news.” Ayo nodded moving to sit down and relax knowing that they had an hour before reaching Paris.

“Very well, I shall enjoy meeting the new Stark child.” She said, causing Shuri to grin at her with a twinkle in her eyes. “I will not enjoy keeping you and Peter out of trouble however.” She finished teasingly causing Shuri to burst into laughter, Ayo only let a slight grin cover her face.

“Oh no oh no oh no.” Marinette muttered as she ran around her room getting ready. “I can’t believe I forgot this! Oh Miss Mendeleiev is going to be so upset! She went out of her way to have me come to her class’s party instead and I’m going to be late! Tikki, Plagg! Grab the pastries please!” The two Kwami lifted one try floating it over to the table by the door before taking the other over as well.

“My bug you must calm down. You have ten minutes before the party starts, yes, but Mendeleiev said to show up at any time.” Tikki flew up with Pollen the two gently fixing the French braid Marinette had begun putting her hair into. “There is no set time you need to be there so you are fine.” A knock on the door startled the human and Kwami slightly, Marinette ushered them into hiding spots before answering the door.

“Hello? Oh Peter! Do you need something?” Peter smiled brightly fidgeting with his sunglasses, he held up two bags filled with snacks.

“I was hoping we could hang out? Dad is in a really boring meeting and if I go it’ll suck my soul out.” He said dramatics causing Marinette to laugh.

“Normally I’d love to, but I have a class party today.” She gestured to the two large trays of pastries.

“Oh, that’s fine! I’ll just help you carry the trays then go find something to do.” Peter said, picking up one of the plates. “And before you say anything, shut up, I want to help.” Marinette glared at him before picking up her purse and folding her jacket over her arm. She picked up the other tray before checking her purse making sure Tikki and Plagg were in it. “Soooo,” Peter said, dragging out the word as he waited for Marinette to lock the door. “Where am I escorting you today fair Goddess?” Peter teased causing Marinette to quirk an eyebrow as they walked toward the elevator.

“Goddess? That's a new one. Care to explain?” She asked, stepping into the elevator pressing the button for the lobby. She reached over pulling his hood up gently with one hand before grabbing his sunglasses and slipping them onto his face. “There you go Mr.Famous.” She teased softly before fixing the strap of her purse. Peter smiled shifting the bag in his hand.

“Well my first thought was princess, but it just doesn’t suit you. Queen had popped in too but that didn’t feel right either. Trust me I know princesses and Queens, and they’d definitely love you but you have an air of difference compared to them. Something that makes you stand out something kind of magical-as silly as it sounds.” Marinette shifted slightly at the mention of magical glancing down at the purse that contained the most powerful beings in existence. Something that did not go unnoticed by Peter. “So when I settled on Goddess it just felt right, of course I tried other names but none compared to Goddess. So that is your new Stark patented nickname! Property of Stark & Co., nobody else can use it without express consent from Stark CEO, Head of R&D, and CEO in training!” Marinette snorted softly stepping out of the elevator Peter followed behind her as she began to giggle.

“Alright I suppose I shall let it slip this time! Besides it is definitely better than Princess, I hate that stupid nickname.” She turned to look at him, eyes twinkling slightly. “Now make sure to stay close, don’t want to have to save you from a car accident again.” Peter laughed rolling his eyes before calling out that it only happened once. Causing Marinette to laugh again as they started the walk to Marinette’s school.

“Oh Marinette! You’re here!!” Aurore called out as she, Mireille, and Jean hurried to meet both her and Peter as they entered the school courtyard. “And you brought a friend!” She said hugging Marinette once Jean took the tray from her. Marinette chuckled nervously hugging the girl back before hugging Mireille as well. “Pleasure to meet you I’m Aurore, that is Mireille, the man that took Marinette’s tray is Jean. Oh and of course you’ll meet the rest of our little family in a bit!” Peter smiled at the girl pushing his sunglasses up.

“I’m Peter, it’s nice to meet you. I am not staying though I was only helping Marinette carry the trays.” He said as Claude bounced over taking the tray from him and passing it off to his sister Allegra. He grabbed Peter’s shoulder directing him towards the rest of their class, smiling goofily. Marinette rolled her eyes smiling as Allan wrapped an arm around her shoulder following behind the two. He was telling her about his most recent audition calmly but excitement was clear in his voice.

“Nonsense! My new friend!!” Claude said smiling brightly leading him to the snack table. “If you’re a friend of Marinette’s then you are more than welcome to our party! I’m Claude Renou, the blonde that took the tray is my sister Allegra Dimont! You already saw Jean, Aurore, and Mireille. Kagami is over there teaching Ondine how to hold a saber, Kagami is wearing the red and black Cheongsam,” He paused turning to Marinette with a hopeful look. “Did I say it correctly?” He beamed when Marinette nodded before turning back to Peter. “And Ondine is the young woman who is completely out of her element on land!” He teased causing Ondine to glare at him playfully before waving politely to Peter. Over there controlling the music is Marc-pretty sure his mom, like runs France’s known yet unknown mafia but he won’t tell us.” Marc shot them a playful look before turning to and beginning to eat Marinette’s cookies. “And behind us is Allan Duval! Better known as Coté Spanghero, a rising actor! Then there is our teacher the wonderful and sometimes cruel Ms. Mendeleiev.” Anne-Claire Mendeleiev turned and stared down Claude who simply grinned at her. She sighed, shaking her head before looking over at Peter.

“Ignore him, of course you are more than welcome to join us. This is our little graduation party, these kids have been my students since middle school, except for Marinette unfortunately. Though I tried to get her multiple times.” She gave him a polite smile before patting his shoulder. “Oh and please call me Anne-Claire, all my students do when they remember they are almost out of school.” Marinette pulled away from Allan with a soft smile before linking arms with Peter. Peter grinned at her leaning closer to her.

“Looks like you don’t need to find something to do.” She said laughing with him. “Now come on, Jean knows some pretty cool magic tricks!” She pulled him over and they stood watching Jean perform different card tricks. They stood together, arms still locked while Peter watched Jean and Marinette talked with Allegra both women laughing together. Peter’s attention was stolen a few minutes later by his phone going off.

Princess Memes a lot- Stark where are you and your new sister?

Princess Memes a lot-Hello? Spiderboy?

Princess Memes a lot- Very well I have already found your location, Ayo and ai are on our way.

“Ah? Will Anne-Claire be upset if my friend and her older sister crash this party?” Anne-Claire raised an eyebrow as she took a sip from her cup looking over.

“Depends Mister Stark, are the delinquents?” Peter was surprised that she knew him and even more surprised when he noticed none of her students were surprised.

“Ah, no not at all. Since you know who I am I’ll be honest. One is royalty and the other her bodyguard acting as sister.” Anne-Claire looked slightly excited at the prospect score nodding.

“As long as they don’t cause trouble they’re welcome here.” Peter nodded smiling brightly before responding to Shuri that they were more than welcome to join.

“My friend will be here soon, they may be a little stand off-ish at first.” Claude laughed, shaking his head, giving Kagami a teasing smile causing the woman to raise her eyebrow, faking an unimpressed look.

“Worry not Peter! We managed to break through Kagami’s Ice Queen persona!” Allan smirked rolling his eyes before handing his drink to Allegra. He stood behind Claude mining all of his actions. This caused them all to burst into laughter while Claude simply grinned looking at them. “Well besides that! Peter I have to ask, are you following in your Dad’s footsteps as head of R&D, or will you be taking up CEO. Oh perhaps I should start with my plans. I want to work in Public Relations, I actually have an internship with Wayne Enterprises. Cool right? Everyone here is going on to amazing things actually!” Peter smiled looking at them.”Why don’t we tell him? I’m sure Marinette has already told you her plans. We might as well tell him the rest!” Allegra shook her head smiling softly.

“I’ll tell him, obviously Allan is continuing his acting career, I am going to Harvard to study Law. Kagami is taking over her family business, Ondine is already an Olympic swimmer. Aurore and Mireille are continuing their weather girl careers, Marc is on his way to becoming a famous author and Jean is continuing his figure skating career.” Peter nodded looking at all of them., rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well I am actually already working at Stark Industries, I run the Internship program. Paid and Unpaid, I decide if you are given a chance in our company. I am however in training for both CEO and head of R&D, my parents told me that it is my choice. Although neither plan to retire for quite some time!” The class plus two continued to talk happily never noticing the girl glaring at them from Ms. Bustier’s classroom. Lila knew something was up, ever since she had laid eyes on the man sitting next to Marinette. It was something about him, something that made him stand out. She looked over at her sheep all of who were too engrossed with final plans for the last class trip. These were her sheep, the people that fell in line just to stop her crocodile tears. She sat high and powerful atop her kingdom and Marinette was in her rightful place, alone and ostracized. Something told her though, that the man out there with Mendeleiev’s class was going to ruin her. She sniffed looking away again giving her sheep a fake smile. She’d simply have to destroy him first.

“This is the place.” Shuri said looking up from her phone as Ayo and her walked through the school. “Peter said the teacher they were with is fine with us being here. Apparently they are having a party. Which sounds like a lot of fun!” They finally walked into the courtyard spotting Peter and the class before walking over when Peter waved excitedly. He introduced them to the class, smiling brightly when Marinette and Shuri hit it off right away.

Over the next couple days Marinette grew closer with Peter, Tony and Shuri. Marinette showed the three around Paris with the help of her friends in Mendeleviev’s class. Tony had even promised them visits to Stark tower the summer after their graduation. Of course it wasn’t known to Marinette that she’d soon be living there. In fact they still had to break it to her that Tony’s adoption request went through. It finally came out during a move night that Tony and Peter were holding with Marinette, Shuri, Ayo, her friends, and Jagged.

“Ya know, I’m going to miss you guys.” She said softly leaning against Peter’s side holding his right hand and carefully painting his nails a navy blue. Peter tensed slightly, sharing a look with Tony. Marinette noticed immediately when Peter tensed looking up at him sharply. “What?” She asked, turning to look at the father and son duo. Peter looked at Tony knowing that his father had to tell her.

“Ah, well you see Pinky, I decided that I didn’t want to lose you. So you’re mine now.” He said not looking her in the face, attempting to hide his nervousness.

“I’m yours now?”

“Yes. Our if you want to be specific and bring Pep into this considering she’s my wife, but mine either way.”

“You do know I’m not something to be owned, correct?”

“Well yes, but you’re still mine. End of story. You’re my daughter now, which means you’re Peter’s sister.”

“You know, I should be upset about this but honestly I really didn’t want you guys to leave. I’ve grown attached and I think Uncle has too.”

Peter smiled brightly wrapping his arms around Marinette, careful not to mess up his nails.

“We just have one last thing to do.”

“Oh?”

“Change your last name to Stark.”

Tony said, smirking as he ruffled his now daughter’s hair. It wasn’t until after the movie finished that they announced the news to the rest of their group, and the celebration was anything but quiet. The night ended with a big sleepover in the Stark’s current living room and all went to bed knowing that tomorrow was the day they took Lila off her fake throne.

Lila smirked looking at herself in the mirror taking in her makeup. Nasty fake bruises covered her face and lower neck. She looked down at her clothes to make sure they were properly ripped. She nodded before heading out, stopping before she made it to the school before starting to cry. She rushed to the school bursting into Ms. Bustier’s class immediately having attention on her. She hid a smirk before spouting her sob story. Not knowing that Peter and his father were about to walk through that door with multiple lawyers Shuri and Ayo also tagging along. The moment Peter stepped through the door Kim charged at him fire in his eyes. Ayo was quick to move, taking Kim down flawlessly in seconds. “What do you think you’re doing! Get off my student!” Ms. Bustier said standing quickly but not moving towards Ayo and Kim.

“Shut it you banshee.”Ayo growled out standing up but keeping her foot in the middle of Kim’s back. “I shall act as guard for you all.” She said after Shuri gave her a subtle nod of permission. Tony and Peter’s lawyer Ryan was the first to step forward.

“Thank you warrior.” He said nodding in respect to Ayo before turning to the class. “I am Ryan Wilson and I am Tony and PETER Stark’s lawyer. I am looking for one Lila Rossi.” Lila sat stock still not wanting to draw any attention to her. That failed when Ayla was quick to point her out.

“She is right here! You’re here to help her after that monster attacked her earlier aren’t you? Wow! Stark works fast! Oh can I record this for my blog?” Ryan galred at both girls before walking over and placing papers on the table.

“No, you may not! Lila Rossi you’ve been served! The Stark family is suing you for slander and defamation of character as well as claiming to others that you work with them. I suggest you find a lawyer and soon.” He turned away from them and walked to Bustier’s desk placing papers on her desk. “This is for allowing and even helping your student to lie.” He stepped back ignoring the class crying out in outrage. Lila just sat staring down at the paper in horror. The horror mounting as more and more papers were added to the pile until Marinette’s delicate and manicured hand placed her own papers down. She looked up at Marinette’s blank face, tears streaming down her face as anger slowly built.

“Lila I have let you get away with a lot, all because I was supposed to be the ‘better person’. Well I am done with that flawed idea, it’s time you learned that lies have consequences.” She turned heading back over to Peter smiling brightly until she saw Tony and Peter’s eyes widened as they moved forward. LIla let out a blood curdling scream launching herself at Marinette. Marinette turned quickly but Ayo was faster than both girls and slammed Lila into the ground. She calmly turned to look at Ryan not releasing her grip from Lila. “It may be smart to call for the police.” Officer Raincomprix walked in soon after sending the teacher a disappointed look as he pulled out handcuffs.

“We are already here. Lila Rossi evidence has been discovered proving that you willingly worked with Gabriel Agreste, also known as Hawkmoth. Anything you say can and will be held against you.” He cuffed her ignoring her screams and holding the young women still as she thrashed trying to get to Marinette. Tony wrapped an arm around her shoulder as Peter linked their arms together causing Marinette to smile.

“Ready to head home, daughter of mine?” Tony said with a smirk as Marinette leaned her head against his arm.

“Ya know, I can’t wait to see my new home. Lets go.”

I wondered when he was finally going to be bored.

Sir, be careful!

#peter parker #tony stark #peter stark #irondad #Avengers #team iron man #miraculous ladybug #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #miraculous fanfic #miraculous fandom #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #marinette dupain cheng #lila bashing #lila salt #class salt #quantic kids #DC Universe

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reinahwanggg · 5 years ago

Text

I Miss You》 Park Jisung

credits to gif owner

pairing: jisung park x reader

word count: 1.9K

warnings: slight angst (not really)

genre: established relationship, idol au, fluff, slight angst, jisung being a caring boy, boyfriend!jisung, reader misses him, but doesn't wanna admit it

a/n: i envisioned myself in this position haha, sorry

"good night honeybee. i love you."

"good night angel! i love you always."

jisung sleepily replies, yawning into the phone, before he closed his eyes to be guided into slumber. although he knows comeback seasons does take a toll on his body, and sometimes mentality, he makes sure he calls you every night. whether it be to tell you he'll be in the dance studio until the next day, or before bed, he always tries to find time for you in his extremely busy schedule, especially since he is quite worried about you.

although it's been a few months since the entire debacle, he always wants to make sure you're safe and well. he knew that you didn't mind all of the sudden attention, and you didn't care about what everyone thought about you and him together, but sometimes he just wants to make sure you're okay.

it's obvious that he's the more vocal one in the relationship; always saying what's on his mind, telling you whenever he felt you should say or stop this, or whenever he felt angry about something petty and wanted to say it to get over it. he just has more experience in expressing his feelings to those close to him.

you, on the other hand, always kept everything bottled up inside, not necessarily saying anything, even when it bothers you, because you wouldn't want to be a bother to others, unless it ticked you off. you were always the one to express your anger for some complicated situations, but rarely to others. you find yourself as your own confidant, as your own provider, as your own push to help you through the tunnel of life.

the way you handle things, often than not, got you in some heated arguments with jisung. he just wants you to tell him when it's too much pressure. especially that day when the camera crew came in, setting a gazillion cameras inside your house, saying that the fans would love to see how you and jisung interact. he saw how uncomfortable it made you, and seeing as it's been two weeks, and you still jump when you walk in your sleepwear at 7am and see the camera following you, it's enough evidence.

yet, whenever he asks you, you brush it aside. ''i'll get used to it'' you'll always tell him, knowing fully well, you sometimes can't stand it. waking up, and pretending to be a youtuber making a get ready with me video, only for it to actually be posted, it ticks you off. yet, all you tell him is that you'll get used to it.

this situation, was no different. for the past three months, jisung has had activity after activity to go through, while trying to record content for this stupid youtube segment. most times it would split videos of him and you on the phone, laughing about some stupid meme you saw on twitter. you know, every single piece of your body misses your boyfriend; dying to be back in his arms, and snuggled with him on the couch, watching random TV shows while he randomly kisses your hair and pulls you closer.

you know that you miss him, and yearn for the day he comes and tells you that promotions are over and the frequent break in between has begun, but you don't tell him that. you don't tell him how much you miss waking up in the morning to see him dancing around the kitchen to a video of you singing one of his songs in the best voice you can muster, unintentionally burning the eggs on the stove.

you don't tell him how much you miss coming home from an interview with other artists, only to see him fixing his hair, humming puzzle piece, smiling goofily at the thought of you. you don't tell him how much you miss your rant sessions; him ranting about how close fans get sometimes, and you ranting about how much you wanna punch your coworker in the throat for her unbearably cocky attitude.

you don't tell him how much you miss last minute packing for a day trip to the other side of the country. you don't tell him how much you miss sulking on the couch, only for him to plant a million pecks and kisses on every corner of your face, until you smiled and playfully pushed him away.

before you knew it, you're sitting up in your bed, crying to yourself about how much you miss him. and for once, you want to let him know, desperately throwing away your pride and wanting him to know how much you ache for his presence, and his quirky habits, and his killer smile, and just everything he has to offer. you miss him so much, your cries get a little too loud, your breath gets a bit too heavy, and your body shakes a bit too much, but you don't care, you just miss him so much it physically hurts you.

the little lamp in the corner of your room shines a somber gold around the room, you oblivious to the fact that the cameras are on 24/7 and is catching this very moment, of your vulnerability. you are also oblivious to the fact that he didn't hang up the phone, him obviously being too tired to actually hover his finger, as he was out like a light, his little snores in the background evident to the entire thing.

"honeybee, i miss you so much. so much it hurts."

you start, your voice choked up, coming out cracked, and scratchy.

halfway through your rant, jisung wakes up, blinking a few times to himself, trying to adjust to the bright light amidst the dark room, the slightest sound of hiccups ring in his ear, an extremely nasally voice ringing out sobs and muffled words, and he automatically sits up in concern. he wants to immediately ask you what's wrong, but instead just listens to what you have to say.

"i miss how, every time you hug me, it feels like placing the last piece of the puzzle in its rightful place. honeybee i just miss how much you check up on me when i'm sick. how sometimes we take turns nightly to sing each other to sleep, you laughing when my voice cracks, or me teasing you with praises for a run you mastered. i miss playful mornings, both of us being too lazy to move, but somehow ending up dancing around the room to various artists and songs. i miss when i wake up, and you're already staring at me, the loving gaze in your eyes as you slightly smile, immediately going to plant a kiss on my big ass forehead. i miss pushing you away, and telling you to brush your teeth before you could give me a good morning kiss. i miss when you and the boys would all pile up in my house, and i would get to show you a bit of my country's cuisine, and laughing when you guys scarf it down like you haven't eaten in years. and i want to tell you all of this, but i don't want to be a burden to you. you already have a lot, with some overbearing fans, promotions, and the occasional run ins. i don't want you to focus on me only and put your feelings on the backburner like i always do. i wish i just had to courage to tell you all of this."

by the end of your rant, jisung has to wipe a few tears from his eyes, smiling sadly on the other end of the phone call, wanting to just pack his overnight bag and come to hold you, tell you that he misses you just as much, and scold you for keeping everything bottled up, like he always does.

he goes to check the time, 2:16 am it says, and he knows that he has to be up by 4am in any event, and he suddenly thanks literally everything for the sudden off day his boss gave them, because he knows for sure, after what you just confessed, he's going to surprise you. he hears some ruffling on the other side of the call, the sound of bedroom slippers hitting the tile floors, and a door opening and closing. he just hopes you're okay.

you, on the other hand, walks into your kitchen, quite starved after crying your heart out for what feels like all night, which in truth was about three hours. you flip the switch, your kitchen suddenly illuminated, and you put your hand in front of your eyes, the quick headache taking effect, and you blink repeatedly at the sudden light. you then smile, before going to your dishes, taking out your favorite bowl, and pouring some lucky charms to the brim of the bowl, before going in your refrigerator, and grabbing your milk, pouring it in as well, and grabbing a spoon.

you walk back towards the exit of the kitchen, towards the corridor that connected both the living room and the stairway in separate mazes together. suddenly flinching once you see the infamous moving camera, following you, and you roll your eyes. 'do they not need new batteries or something?' you thought to yourself, before walking upstairs to your room.

you look up at the camera on top of your vanity, and smile and tight lipped uncomfortable smile, before showing the big bowl of lucky charms and chuckling.

"cereal hits different at 2am after an emotional breakdown."

you say, chuckling once again, and happily eating your food, humming along to love again, as it plays inside your head, liking the way it sounds, and suddenly asking alexa to play it for you. it's not as loud as it would usually be, considering what time it is, and the fact that your neighbor just came back home from her long ass business trip (which you're lowkey suspicious of, because her boss came looking for her halfway through, saying if she didn't come in tomorrow then she'll be fired) and doesn't like k-pop for the life of her.

you rest your bowl by the foot of your bed, honestly too lazy to go back downstairs and place it back inside the sink. you then go to your phone, and open it, seeing as it was still on the book you were reading before jisung demanded for your attention, only to then fall asleep on you ten minutes later. you read until you notice the sun up, suddenly hearing my first and last playing around you. the doorbell ringing frequently, and you check the time.

9:48 am it reads, and you realize you read about 10 books in the span of seven hours. you shout that you'll be down in a minute and make sure jisung's hoodie is low enough, before placing your bedroom slippers back on and walking down the stairs, turning into the living room and left, towards the separate entryway (it's kind of a big ass house), opening the door, before tears blurred your vision, and you immediately scooped up from the floor, and spun around on your porch, inhaling the scent you missed for the past three months. quite happy that you were in jisung's embrace again.

you didn't question it one bit, in fact you didn't question anything, just told him to come inside and told alexa to play the song louder. coincidentally, it was Quiet Down, making both you and jisung laugh boisterously, before walking into the kitchen, and dancing to his songs, as you both made pancakes and gossiped about anything and everything, just like you missed and loved.

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kylorengarbagedump · 5 years ago

Text

Little Bird: Chapter 16

Read on AO3. Part 15 here. Part 17 here.

Summary: The horrors of Gilead are too much to bear. You've been selfish.

Words: 3100

Warnings: Handmaid AU

Characters: Kylo Ren x Handmaid!Reader

A/N: Guys... Ren knows she's missing... what the fuck is gonna happen...

(I know but I'm not telling.)

Thank you everyone for your interest and attention to this story. I have no words to express how grateful I am. I love y'all so much. <3

The rest of the house was surprisingly plain, considering its underbelly. Rey and Finn slept on the second floor, and Poe, as their driver, had an adjoining room on the first floor. The facade was one of a normal, functioning Gilead household, with Angel, Wife, and their help all existing in perfect harmony. Part of you wanted to know more about Finn and Rey’s marriage--did they love each other, was it arranged, how had they managed to create the Resistance--but you couldn’t think of a polite way to ask.

Perhaps that was more conditioning. You couldn’t remember if questions like that had appeared unimportant before Gilead.

“Anyway, that’s all for the house,” Rey said. “You’ll likely only be here a few days, but we think it’s important you know where everything is, should anything happen.”

You blinked. “Happen?”

She waved her hands dismissively. “Not that anything has! Or that we expect it to. But it’s better to be prepared.”

Somehow, this did little to ease your nerves. The reality of being involved with a treasonous group of rebels was starting to settle. Of course you could never be a spy for them. You were trying to save your life. You’d done enough risking it at the end of Kylo Ren’s cock.

Rey led you back through the den, a large room lit with tall, dim lamps and a crackling fire. Bookcases packed tight with spines adorned each wall, reaching the ceiling, and a couple of massive leather sofas framed a heavy, carved coffee table at the center. The hardwood gleamed at your feet, reflecting the flames from the fireplace. Rey trudged forward, heading toward the hearth.

“This is a little cliche, I know,” she said. “But we couldn’t think of a better deterrent than fire.”

She pulled a brick out from the side of the fireplace and tugged out a pair of thick, black gloves that went up to her elbows. After pulling them on, to your horror, she reached into the fire, digging into the logs, and yanked at a lever. Nothing happened. But she didn’t seem deterred. Next, she tore away the thick, Persian rug at the foot of the hearth, pushing back one of the slats of hardwood and using it like a handle, wrenching open a rectangular slab of wood, wisps of smoke escaping as she revealed another hidden entrance.

You shrugged, heart skipping again. “You guys have a lot of these, huh.”

Rey smiled, replacing the gloves in the brick. “Just these two. This is the more important one, though. Come on!”

With quick feet, she disappeared down the tiny staircase, the walls closing even tighter than the ones before, compressing your frame like a compactor. You weren’t as fast, surveying your path, noticing the open grate in the ceiling that hung under where the fireplace was positioned. The air was stifling, almost woolen.

“When the grate is open, it becomes pretty much impossible to breathe.” Rey was at an iron door at the end of the staircase, now, spinning the combination lock above the handle. “We hope that in the event of an emergency, it would give enough time to allow for evacuation.”

Swallowing, you nodded, as if you wanted to be worrying about an emergency. Then again, your entire life had been an emergency for the past few years. What did the change of scenery really matter? The lock clicked, and the door opened. Rey waved you on. Holding your breath, you snuck down with your skirts bunched above your ankles, crossing the threshold and into a cooler, open room. She followed, and the door clamped shut behind you.

In front of you was another area illuminated with the same battery tap lights as you’d seen in their war room, accompanied with those similar eggshell crates. Beds lined the walls, some of them occupied, others barren. At the end of the room was a closed door, light peeking out from the frame. As you glanced around the space, each time a pair of eyes landed on you, shame leapt from inside your chest and swallowed you whole. You counted three strangers corralled here, total, all dressed in sweatshirts and jeans that looked about a decade old. And inside the gazes of these strangers, you saw yourself: terrified. Desperate. Alone.

“We have a new addition today, everyone,” said Rey. “Would you like to introduce yourself?”

Throwing a half-hearted wave, you mumbled your name. “Hello.”

“Right!” Her hand at your back again, she ushered you forward. “Clockwise, that’s Louise, Audrey, Gabrielle, and…” She snapped her fingers. “Where’s Sarah?”

“In the washroom,” said the one named Louise, pointing to the closed door.

“Got it.” Hand still guiding you, Rey turned you toward the door and walked you through the locking mechanism and how to get up to the main house, if necessary. “And if anything should happen--these girls know this--pull this lever right here. It opens both grates underneath the fire place. The fire is always burning. After you pull it, you all must escape through the piping in the washroom.” She looked over the room again. “You all remember that?”

The other woman called out their assent. Rey nodded, gripped your shoulder.

“I’ll leave you to get comfortable. There’s a set of clothes underneath one of the open beds. We’ll probably be serving dinner in a few hours. We bring it down here. I hope that’s okay.”

You shifted on your feet, crossing your arms. “So… I’m stuck down here, now?” Shadows stretched across the concrete floors, the tap lights too pitiful to banish them.. “Great.”

Her face fell. “I know. It’s not ideal. But…” She sighed. “Our primary goal is to keep you all safe until transport. We’ve smuggled out dozens of Handmaids with our protocols the way they are.”

“Yeah.” You nodded.

The knowledge that Ren would soon know you were gone was crushing you tighter than the walls themselves. You couldn’t imagine him honestly razing everything within 100 miles just for you--after all, you were just a Handmaid--but then you recalled the last time you’d spoken with him. The ache in his eyes. The despair.

Not one like you.

You haunt me.

A chill cast over your intestines, goosebumps sweeping over your flesh. Your tongue was dry. “When did you say the transport was, again?” You tried to wipe your sweating palms on your skirts.

Rey’s nose twisted in consideration. “We have a contact willing to collect a shipment at the end of the week. So it probably won’t be for a few more days.”

You coughed, trying to clear the dust from your throat. You hoped you’d last that long. “Okay.”

“Everyone all right?” Rey asked, casting a glance across the room. When no one responded, she grinned, and left through the iron door, sealing it tight behind her.

A long, heavy sigh left you, and you turned back to the room, again meeting the anxious gazes of the other women. You shuffled over to an empty bed, reaching underneath it, finding, to no surprise, a pair of baggy jeans and a large sweatshirt. You sat down with a loud squeak, mattress deflating like marshmallow underneath you. Every bed in here was covered with mismatched sheets, the frames combinations of screwed together steel bars and wooden slats.

You regarded the set of clothing with some degree of confusion. The thought of putting them on your body seemed foreign. Wrong. The red dress of your captivity didn’t seem right, either, but at least it was familiar.

“I promise that once you put that stuff on, it feels so much better.” One of the women approached you--the one named Audrey. Her dark hair was short. Very short. She must have cut it the second she was free. “It’s totally weird at first, though.”

“Yeah.” The sweatshirt was grey, stained, with colorful stripes across the chest area that had faded with time. “I don’t really want to change in front of everyone, though…”

“Don’t!” she said. “Sarah will be out in a second. You can change there.”

You nodded, glimpsing the other women watching you. “How long have you… all of you been here?”

“It’s been about a week for me,” Audrey said with a laugh. “My Commander hasn’t given a shit that I’ve been gone.”

“We both came in the middle of the night a few nights ago,” Louise said, gesturing between herself and Gabrielle. Louise had a crooked nose, and her long, blonde hair was tied in braids and piled on top of her head. “I didn’t know if she’d make it!”

Gabrielle shrugged. “You basically bullied me into it.”

“Oh, please,” Louise said. “Don’t act like you weren’t desperate to get out of Dopheld’s house.”

She sighed. “You’re right.” Gabrielle looked at you. Her eyes were dark pools. “I was just scared.”

Audrey nodded. “We were all totally scared.”

“Well,” you said. “That makes four of us.”

“Five.” Louise tilted her head toward the washroom door.

“Has anyone checked on Sarah?” Gabrielle’s nose wrinkled in concern. “She’s been in there a while.”

You blinked. “Checked on her?” It seemed rude to just… check on someone because they were taking a while in the bathroom. Everyone had their bodily struggles.

Audrey stood. “I’ll do it.” She crossed to the door, rapping it with a single knuckle. “Sarah? Are you okay?”

Frowning, your gaze switched between Louise and Gabrielle, hoping they’d provide you with some sort of context. The hesitation in their expression tightened your chest. Dread loomed over you again, a creature ready to consume.

“What is it?” you whispered. “What’s going on with Sarah?”

“Sarah got here last night.” Louise’s voice floated in the air. “She… She’s having a hard time.”

Audrey rapped again. “Sarah? Open the door, hon.”

A tiny whimper rippled from beyond the door. “Leave me alone.”

“Come on, Sare. You’ve been in there for an hour. You’ve gotta come out at some point.”

The hidden voice was tattered, like fabric with more holes than weave. “No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do,” Louise called, frowning. “There’s a new person here. She needs to get comfortable too.”

“A new person?” A loud sniffle, and shuffling behind the door. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t know--”

Audrey stood back from the threshold. “It’s okay, hon--”

The door swung open, revealing a young woman--perhaps the youngest out of all of you--in a sleeved shirt and sweatpants, her long hair swarmed in a nest around her head, her cheeks a furious red. She sniffled again, which stoked the uneasiness in your heart, but what set it aflame was the rest of her appearance. Her hands were shredded, knuckles purple and puffy, and her right eye was an ugly, dead black, swollen shut, accompanying a massive knot at her forehead. A scab crept over a split in her lower lip.

Your jaw dropped. Sarah plodded out of the bathroom, gaze trained on the floor.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know someone else was here.”

“Don’t--uh, don’t apologize,” you said. “I… I only just got here, so…”

She nodded, plopping down on her bed. You sought out direction from the other women, feeling helpless. To get up and just go change seemed a little sociopathic at the moment.

Audrey sat next to Sarah on her bed. “How are you feeling, hon?”

Sarah shrugged. “I don’t know. I keep thinking I see him out of the corner of my eye.” She was blank, numbed to her surroundings. “My… my other eye, I mean.”

“I know.” Audrey offered a sympathetic smile, rubbing her back. “You’re free, now, though. You won’t ever have to go back to his house again.”

Something slithered from the depths of your psyche and seized you, coiling around you, strangling the air from your lungs. Guilt.

“Your… uh, your Commander did this?” Your voice was stretched like film over your throat.

Sarah peeked at you, nodded. “When he learned I wasn’t pregnant.”

Guilt now snaked its way into your vessels, stuffed you with its presence. “I… I’m really sorry.”

She shrugged, face blank once more. “I just want to be able to sleep through the night again.”

“Me too,” said Gabrielle. “I get so tired of looking over my shoulder every day.” She shivered, shaking off a memory.

“Ooh, I know.” Louise reached up and pulled her braids from their spiral. “And to never have to smell his breath again.”

“Or just see his face in general!” Audrey chuckled. “I’m tired of being called a pig.”

“A pig?” You blushed when you realized it was you that had spoken. “Sorry. That’s terrible.”

Audrey shrugged, offering a wry, pained grin. “Wasn’t as bad as when he slapped me.”

With every admission of abuse, more oxygen escaped your body. Of course, your situation was no more enviable--you knew this, logically--but there was something different about your desperate, impassioned rendezvous with Kylo Ren in comparison to these women who were literally being beaten. And worse. Kylo Ren was possessive, manipulative, controlling, perhaps even heartless--but at least you’d wanted every single finger he laid on you.

In the end, you were running because there was a dark, awful part of you that wanted more than just sex, and the battle with your desire put your life at risk. These women were running because they wanted less--less of all of it. The realization lit a match to the kindling of your guilt.

“Do other Commanders know about this?” For some reason, you wanted permission to be enraged. “That this happens?”

Gabrielle snorted. “Of course they do. Some of them even team up, if you’re unlucky enough.”

“Team up?” Your jaw tensed.

“Whatever you take that to mean,” Louise said, “that’s what it means.”

Gabrielle leaned forward, scanning you. “You can’t really be that ignorant,” she said. “You lived it, too.”

“Come on, now. Her Commander must’ve been one of the low-ranks,” said Audrey. “Who was he?”

You looked between them, face hot. The words wouldn’t come out of your mouth. You were ignorant. There was no one to blame but yourself. You’d wrapped yourself in the protective sheet of your Commander’s attention, so twisted and obsessed with your own misery you’d never taken time to truly consider his role in maintaining the system. Kylo Ren hadn’t just subjugated you--he’d subjugated all of Gilead, propped it up on false limbs and shielded it from criticism. By default, he protected each one of the men that these women were running from. By default, he was complicit in, an agent of their power. By default, he was corrupt.

By default, he deserved to be brought down.

“Hello?” Louise waved. “Anyone there?”

You snapped to attention. “Sorry!” you said. “What, uh, what was the question?”

“I just asked who your Commander was,” Audrey replied. “You don’t have to--”

“Kylo Ren,” you replied, and found yourself standing. “Please excuse me.”

“Kylo--” Gabrielle stuttered. “Isn’t he right under--”

“Yeah, he’s Commander Snoke’s right-hand man!”

“She’s his Handmaid? She got away?”

“Doesn’t that make it more dangerous for us?”

“It totally doesn’t, we’re already running.”

Your brain was too busy spinning with newfound purpose. You’d walked over to the door, hands quaking as they worked to unlock the exit as Rey had instructed. Behind you, the other Handmaids were chattering, their stares like weights on your back. Blood rushed by your ears, pulse thumping at your temple, beating with a burgeoning power. The door opened, and you slipped beyond it, holding your breath through the hot tunnel to the main house. Your limbs were moving faster, shoving open the hatch, punching away the heavy rug, and you scrambled out, tripping over your feet as you stumbled through the house.

“Rey?” you called. “Finn? Poe?”

It was strange, how threatening silence could be in this world. You crossed through the den, peeking around the corners, searching like a hound. There was something boiling inside you, like a geyser, ready to explode through your skin, wrench you apart with its insistence. You could feel the words on your tongue, taste them, and they were begging to be given life, to find release.

“Rey!” you shouted up the stairs. “Finn! Poe!”

Still no response. Dread again, descending onto your shoulders, hijacking your heart, your breath coming faster, cycling through your lungs. If something had happened, making a ton of noise likely wouldn’t help. You sucked in a deep breath. You hadn’t checked outside. Gathering your skirts, you slunk to the back door, popping the locks and prying it open, inch by inch. Voices hit your ears. You froze. You couldn’t see them--they were around the corner, in the garden.

“We did rush the transport.” It was Finn. Relief tugged at your mind--but he sounded concerned. “The contact still says they won’t be able to make it for another 48 hours.”

“Dammit.” That was Poe. “And no response from bunker?”

“They’re full,” a voice you recognized as Rey’s replied. “They just took in another on emergency.”

“Shit!” A frustrated sigh escaped him. “I thought we’d at least have half a day to figure out where we’d move her.”

Your stomach flipped. Her. You?

“Well, this is Ren we’re talking about,” Finn replied. “We knew how he might get.”

Now your stomach lurched. Yes, you.

“We still have a few hours,” said Rey. “According to our intel, he’s only just now received report his Handmaid was taken off the streets for re-education. Even assuming he abandons his post, he’ll still need to figure out she never made it to a Red Center and find out who took her.”

More nagging guilt. How hard they were working, just to keep you safe. To keep you from him.

“Should we file the missing report to the Eyes?”

You didn’t want to be rude. But new guilt was morphing, too, liquefying to rage in your belly.

“I’m already on it.” Finn sighed. “Let’s just go with the plan as-is, for now. We don’t know what his intentions are. He might not even come here.”

Your fists clenched. You wanted him to.

“This would’ve been so much easier if she had agreed to work with us,” Poe mumbled.

You trembled, roiled through with fury for the women in the basement, for your saviors, for Johana and Emma and Rose, for--hell, yourself. All of you pinned underneath the monstrosity built by Ren and the Commanders like him, some of you struggling with trembling knees, others collapsing, devoured by the machine as they strained to support its weight. Taking a deep breath, you stepped into the backyard.

Rey sighed. “Well, she didn’t--”

“Wait.” Your voice was cold and foreign. Finn, Poe, and Rey turned the corner from the patio, mouths parted in shock. “I’ll do it.”

A smile cracked Poe’s face. “You will?”

“Really?” Rey grinned.

“Yes. I’ll do it. I’ll be your spy.”

A flock of birds scattered from the yard, taking off into the dusky sky.

#kylo ren smut #kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren #kylo trash #handmaid au #little bird #fanfiction problems

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hotforharrison · 5 years ago

Text

Confessions in a Can (Oneshot)

Masterlist

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield/Reader

Summary: Confessing your feelings to Harrison with help from some whipped cream.

Word Count: 1,307

Warnings: Language and smut, my usual go-tos.

A/N: I have over 3,000 words written in the next chapter of Heart’s Desires, so it’s definitely in progress! Kinky!Haz keeps being Soft!Haz. I don’t know if I can write him any way other than soft and sweet. I guess there’s room for both!

You had a problem. The problem had a name. Its name was Harrison Osterfield.

After meeting Harrison while he was walking one of your new favorite dogs, the sweet and adorable Monty, you became fast friends.

Your attraction to him was immediate. He was insanely hot. You’d have to be blind not to notice that. Hell, he was technically a male model, even though he was quick to remind you that he was an actor first and foremost when you teased him about it.

Although you knew you weren’t the best flirt, you’d tried subtly flirting with him. He was either not interested and didn’t know how to tell you, or completely clueless. Maybe you needed to be less subtle, but you definitely needed to be braver first.

It was a lazy weekend, and you were hanging out with Harrison, as had become what you usually did in the past few months.

"I'm going to the kitchen. Want anything?" he asked, getting up from the sofa and grabbing his empty glass off the coffee table.

"I'm good, thanks," you replied, half-watching the game on the TV.

He returned soon after with a bottle of beer and a can of whipped cream. After he put the beer bottle on the coffee table, he uncapped the whipped cream and sprayed it into his mouth.

You laughed. "Jesus, are you ten, Harrison?"

He grinned over at you, making a show of tipping his head back and squirting more in his mouth. "What? It's good!"

You noticed some had gotten on his neck. "Hey, you got some on you."

"Where?" he asked.

"I'll get it." You weren’t sure what it was, but you felt braver in that moment then you had in the past. It was time to leave no questions to your intentions.

You leaned over to bring your lips to Harrison's neck, tongue running slowly and thoroughly over his skin, cleaning off the sweet whipped cream.

When you pulled back and looked at his face, his eyes were widened, and he raised his eyebrows. "What was that?"

"Just helping a friend out with a little problem," you responded.

"More like making a not so little one," he muttered.

You glanced down at his sweatpants, the outline of his erection obvious through the fabric. You smirked, grabbing the can of whipped cream from him, and sprayed some on his arm.

He laughed. "Hey! What are you doing?"

Instead of responding, you moved to lick the whipped cream off of his skin.

"Oh, you're doing that. Alright.” He took a breath. “We should probably talk before we do this.”

"Sorry, my mouth is busy,” you told him.

He smiled. "No, it's not."

“Yes, it is.” You sprayed more whipped cream further up on his arm, close to the sleeve of his jersey, taking longer to lick it off this time.

When you were done, you played with the hem of his jersey, hand slipping underneath to brush against his toned stomach, the way you’d always wanted to do when you’d seen him shirtless.

He tensed underneath your touch, but didn't stop you. "I'm still not entirely sure what's going on here, and again, we are going to talk about it later, but I take it you want me to take my shirt off for whatever it is we’re doing right now?"

Instead of answering with words, you simply nodded.

He tugged the jersey over his head and dropped it on the sofa next to him, looking at you expectantly.

You licked your lips and dropped to your knees in front of him, making space for yourself between his spread legs.

His eyes were locked on you as you sprayed another line of whipped cream over his chest.

Your tongue traced patterns over his skin as you licked up the whipped cream. You gently bit down on one of his pecs and started sucking it.

“Hey, no marks,” he warned. “Going to the beach on Monday.”

You stopped, a little disappointed, and moved to flick one of his nipples with your tongue. Your teeth grazed over the hardening nub.

“Shit,” he groaned.

As an afterthought, you placed a glob of whipped cream over the other nipple before you attacked it with your mouth, not stopping until the last hint of sweetness was gone from his skin.

His abs were the next place you put the whipped cream, outlining them.

Whipped cream or no, you’d always wanted to lick his abs. Honestly, most women probably wanted to lick his abs, especially after all the thirst trap shirtless photos he posted on social media. You’d never tell him, but you had pretty much all of his sexy photos saved for when you spent time quality time with your battery-operated boyfriend.

You eagerly followed the trail of whipped cream over the firm muscles, appreciating the time he put in at the gym.

Next up on your trail down his torso was his belly button. It wasn’t something you’d admit aloud because you found it weird, at least not unless you were well on your way to drunk, but you found his belly button sexy.

After surrounding it with what was probably too much whipped cream, you swirled your tongue over and around his navel, paying extra attention to it long after the whipped cream was gone.

You placed one hand on his sweatpants near the waistband, other still holding the can of whipped cream, and looked up to meet his eyes, waiting for permission.

“Yeah. Yeah, go ahead,” he encouraged.

Your hand was a bit shaky with nervousness when you freed his cock from the confines of his sweatpants and boxers.

You took a moment to appreciate the sight and feel of it in your hand. He was a little longer than average, a good, sturdy thickness. If he let you, and you very much hoped he would, you knew he’d fill you up nicely.

Before he questioned why you were sitting there staring at his dick, you covered it partially with whipped cream, but the can hissed, spraying just air, before you were completely done.

With a shrug, you put the empty can on the coffee table, and licked a long stripe through the whipped cream from your hand up to the tip. You were quick to take him in your mouth and clean up the rest of the whipped cream with your tongue.

When you started licking and sucking him in earnest, he moaned loudly. His hands tangled in your hair. He gently guided you over his cock, definitely gentler than he had to be, careful not to make you gag or tug on your hair too hard. Even lost in pleasure, he was sweet.

“Gonna cum soon, love,” he warned you.

You sucked on him harder in response, bobbing your head faster.

“Fuck,” he groaned, as he spilled into your mouth in several long spurts.

You swallowed and pulled back, cleaning him thoroughly with little kitten licks as he softened.

“Too bad we’re out of whipped cream,” he commented, still a little breathless.

“Sorry you didn’t get much,” you apologized.

He chuckled. “I’m not, but it would be nice to return the favor. I guess I don’t technically need whipped cream to do that, though.”

“You want to do that?” you asked, surprised.

“I know you. You’re not that daft, darling.” He smiled brightly down at you, and your heart skipped a beat. “Now, come on. Let’s go to my room before one of the guys walks in on us, yeah?”

“One of the guys already heard you in there and chose not to walk in on you,” you heard a voice call from the kitchen. “It’s about damn time, too. You’ve been dancing around each other for weeks now. Tom owes me £50. He was sure you two were already fucking.”

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#harrison osterfield #haz osterfield #harrison osterfield smut #harrison osterfield fanfiction #harrison osterfield fanfic #harrison osterfield x you #harrison osterfield x y/n #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield you #harrison osterfield reader #harrison osterfield reader insert

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pyrewriter · 4 years ago

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Fortress Coast

Previous Chapter Next Chapter Chapter Guide

Eliksni Name pronunciation: Vralych (V-rawl-eesh)

After witnessing the awakening of the Great Machine we scurried into light Skiff and pushed it to the brink of engine failure. I nearly crashed the shuttle on approach as I reversed thrust sharply stopping just short of the ground and hovered. A crew of Dregs hastily wheeled their equipment toward the shuttle, with the docking tethers in place I cut the engines completely. Dropping the remaining few feet our Skiff settled into the cradle of the tethers with a wobble. I came barreling out so fast that I landed flat on the ground before scrambling to my feet and sprinting through the open area that acted as an airfield.

Making my way onto the Ketch I made for the bridge where I was certain Ogethres would be, he was standing, waiting when I entered. I kneeled at the base of the steps leading to his seat "My Arkon, bring urgent information, apologies, intrusion" I blabbed through heavy breaths.

"Was informed of arrival, look excited, why?" he questioned, sounding concerned.

I couldn't help but smile beneath my helmet, "Great Machine, it has Awakened my Arkon, risen destroyed red leader, enemy scatters" I clicked, adding almost triumphantly "I have witnessed".

Ogethres looked down at me with a serious look, for one to claim they have witnessed the actions of the Great Machine can be dangerous, "Ellrimksyt, certain of what witnessed?". As I was about to reassert my claim the crew that had accompanied me to on my mission strode onto the bridge and kneeled beside me, one carried the black box of our Skiff. They vouched for me and I did the same for them. Presenting the black box I allowed them to explain, I had not thought to bring the recorded data.

Upon viewing the recording in private to confirm our claims Ogehtres became ecstatic with joy. He saw fit for the one who brought him the proof to be brought up from Dreg but such a ceremony would have to wait. News of the awakening of the Great Machine was an event that needed to be spread to our people. I watched as my Arkon and uncle raced off the bridge excitedly like a sprog when they hear the feeding servitor enter the chamber. Giving chase I was barely able to keep him in view ,for a time, but the difference in our strides was too great.

Leaned against a corridor wall I was trying to catch my breath when the ship announcement system activated with a whine. "System wide broadcast, to all Eliksni, Great Machine awakens, destroyed leader of red clad enemy, repeat Great Machine LIVES! visual data stream follows" it said. I remember the sound of resounding cheers loud enough to be heard throughout the Ketch at the news but they were quickly quelled. "The Great Machine may grace Eliksni again, until then we continue to survive" Ogethres added before the system shut down with another high pitched whine. Joy and invigoration still hung in the air however despite the sobering reminder that.

Such happiness was short lived as hours after returning to our water backed encampment the sky was once again filled with red. The roar of automated anti-air batteries opening fire started at the same time emergency reports of mass enemy movement came in. I scrambled to my feet and sprinted for the living quarters to grab my weapons before making my way outside, joining my brother and father along the way. Outside we were not met by the chaos and bloodshed I had expected ,no, everyone was simply standing, staring upward into the sky. Joining in the collective upward stare the sky was filled with red.

The roar subsided as the cannons powered down, the red foe that had only just had it's leader killed after being unmatched for so long was running scared. A wave of relief and disdain washed over me ,the former leaving a foul taste in my mouth, the ones that plagued this planet for months fled so easily. Shuttles both large and small filled the sky with red as they retreated. Retreat was unheard of but the strangest part was the speed at which they fled en masse and simply ran like sprog seeing a servitor for the first time. It was good to know that the guild was far safer now that the grand majority of our greatest foe other than risen was gone.

Celebrations were held throughout the night with similar reports of large groups of red enemy presence either lessening greatly or disappearing entirely coming in across the system. During the festivities Ogethres took the chance to raise the crew who witnessed the awakening of the Great Machine from Dregs to Marauders. During the ascension I recognized one of them and took note of their name ,Vralych, they were quick and clearly loyal.

A well deserved thanks was in order, were it not for them retrieving the data recorder and vouching for me I would have put my uncle in a difficult situation. Luckily I was able to show my appreciation by calling in a favor with some forgers I protected during the exodus. A higher than normal quality shock dagger with the young Marauders name engraved into its hilt. Such an item would cost me some extra salvage and glimmer but for having foresight where I had failed it was a worthy token of appreciation.

The morning following the celebrations scouting parities were sent to areas previously occupied by our red enemy. It took a number of days to thoroughly scout and clear the small fortresses within the area designated by our Arkon. Salvage crews tailed us as we scouted and cleared to ensure that neither risen nor red foe would have a chance to claim anything before us. Most emplacements were completely abandoned or nearly so with what appeared to be skeleton crews being left behind. Dispatching them swiftly proved to the best call as large explosives were found throughout emplacements manned by these crews.

Removing the explosives that were already set was too dangerous, luckily the easy to put together nature of the architecture made removing the charges trivial. Disposing of said charges was the fun part for Brykis and myself and an excellent teaching moment for younger scouts assigned to Pyrrhaks. Detonation was done at a safe distance with a Wire Rifle shot from behind the safety of a tree or rock. The concussive wave hit like a solid slap from uncle but the fireball that rose into the sky was satisfying to watch.

Once our scouting party had finished our sector of the salvage zone Pyrrhaks called for a Skiff to take the younger scouts to sectors that had yet to be cleared. Brykis and myself were permitted to peruse the rather small emplacement while we waited for Salvage crews to arrive. The two of us were adept salvagers however and unless explicitly told otherwise we rarely leave the Ketch without at least some of our tools. Due to the nature of this particular instance however father let us to bring all of them. We didn't know anything about the tech or inner working of the architecture of these red giants that had plagued us. So of course we set to work and immediately drenched ourselves in the black sticky ooze that ran through walls as we cut into a large line of the stuff. By the time the tailing salvage crew had arrived most of the walls and fortifications were sorted and stacked in piles waiting to be picked up.

Unsurprisingly they laughed when they saw us "Haha, found thick fluid hard way, don't need clean salvage at least, you drain most it seems" the crew Captain chortled. The arriving crew helped dismantle the last of the emplacement before loading what they could fit onto their Skiff and heading off. It took an extra two salvage Skiffs to finish picking everything up, we hitched a ride back to the Ketch with the last ones to arrive. Pyrrhaks sent us to get decontaminated the moment he saw but we were met with his embrace afterward.

Ogethres had the foresight to plan past simply salvaging what the enemy had left behind, the assembly of the walls were simple in design but extraordinarily sturdy. Crews were granted a few days break before engineers and all available extra hands were put to work erecting a wall to border our main point of operation near the Ketches. Without ruins to fortify or caves to burrow deeper into our presence was hard to miss and not easily defended. If a coordinated attack from the risen be launched against us we would most likely perish in the ensuing battle as we had no were else to go should we retreat. With the more immediate threat of the red enemy gone our guild could finally and safely begin construction of more permanent living. Everyone had been living on Ketches and Skiffs up until now.

Reassembly of the salvaged wall was swift but the sheer size and length caused the work to take a number of days. I was not part of the wall crew but with it's completion came our new task of settlement construction which I was assigned to. No pre-existing structures or caves presented a problem but we lacked the capability to create the latter. Creativity was our greatest ally thankfully when indecisiveness halted our progress. During a meeting to decide the best course of action one of the other Barons suggested that we use the coast and build beneath the water.

There was a moment of silence before hesitant clicking and chattering filled the air, murmurings of uncertainty mostly. Eyes fell to two Captains at one end of the hologram displaying the surrounding geography. They stared into the spinning projection ,thought filling their eyes, looking at each other then back to the others both Captains nodded with different levels of confidence. I heard a slight grumble emanate from father that caught uncles ear, "Objection, Pyrrhaks?" Ogethres trilled.

"None, my Arkon" Pyrrhaks chirped with surprise.

Ogethres's eyes then shifted to me "Young Ellrimksyt" he said with an inquisitive tone "you engineer, tell, what think of submerging?". I stepped forward and peered into the hologram and through it saw my uncle's eyes, their gentle glow reminding me that I was among the guild and was welcome to speak in earnest. Eliksni built in nearly every kind of condition but submerging a permanent structure in liquid was unheard of as far as I knew.

It wasn't impossible however "Build submerged not impossible, require tight seals, little mistake room". The architecture of our settlements was designed to be adaptable and withstand extremes but even it still has limits on how much it can take. "Dangerous if build deep, pressure causes collapse, horizontal difficult to build, need reachable for maintenance". After voicing my concerns and opinions I received a subtle pat from one of Pyrrhaks's sub arms as the others began to discuss plans. When all present had come to an agreement it was decided that all we could manage would be built hidden beneath the water.

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#destiny #eliksni #fallen #eliksni fanfic #Ellrimksyt #Chapter 7

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rushingheadlong · 5 years ago

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Very, Very Frightening - A Freddie x trans-m!Reader fic

Summary: You’re not a fan of power outages, but at least Freddie is there to remind you that you don’t have to face it alone.

Wordcount: ~2.9k

Tags: Some fade-to-black allusions to sex, but mostly just a whole lot of fluff

Notes: Written for @mercurys-oldfashioned-loverboy who requested more Freddie x trans-m!Reader fluff. Sorry this took so long to finish, I hope it’s worth the wait!

Usual disclaimers about binders apply- namely, I’m not researching anything about binding in the 70s so just go with it. Also all monsoon information is taken from my college meteorology courses five years ago because (apart from confirming that Zanzibar was within a monsoon area) I wasn’t doing more research there either.

By the time you finally get home you’re soaked to the bone. You wrench open the door and the wind pulls it away from you, slamming it up against the side of the building before you can wrestle it closed again behind you. It does little to quiet the sounds of the storm raging outside, but at least you’re out of the rain.

“There you are, darling, I was starting to worry you got swept away in all this!” Freddie says. He gives you a quick kiss and hands you a towel, and takes your sopping wet jacket from you when you peel it off. “Go get changed into something dry, I’ll make you a cup of tea to help you warm up.”

You kiss Freddie again in thanks, taking care not to lean against him and get him wet too. “Is anyone coming over tonight?”

Freddie shakes his head. “Rog was going to, but he decided against it when the weather turned. So go put on something comfortable, alright?”

Something comfortable is Freddie’s way of telling you to take your binder off. You’re still uncomfortable going without it in front of others, but it no longer bothers you to spend an evening with Freddie without wearing it. It helps that he’s always been so politely matter-of-fact about your gender, never pushing your boundaries or making you feel uncomfortable.

It also helps that you’re madly in love with him and trust him more than anyone else in the world. Given that, it’s surprisingly easy to choose to forgo the restrictive piece of clothing, at least on good days and when it’s just the two of you.

Freddie hangs your coat up to dry, and you try not to drip water all over the place as you make your way to the bedroom and start peeling off layers. Everything is soaked through from the veritable hurricane raging outside and even the towel Freddie gave you does little to make you feel dryer.

You’re halfway through wrestling your way out of your binder when a flash of lightning brightens the room and the lights overhead flicker ominously. That’s not a good sign.

“Freddie?” you call out, still caught in the tangle of clinging, wet spandex. “Did the lights just-?”

“I’m afraid so, darling,” Freddie says. He peers around the doorway of the bedroom and tries, but largely fails, to hide an amused smile when he sees the state you’re in. “Do you need help with that?”

You sigh, nodding in glum defeat, and Freddie steps forward to help you get the binder off. “I’ll go hang this up so it doesn’t get ruined,” he says as you quickly throw on your favorite old sweater.

“And I’ll get dinner started,” you tell him. It’s early still, but your building is old and prone to losing power in bad weather and you don’t want to take any chances.

“I already did that, lovie,” Freddie says, sounding a bit smug about it.

You give him a look of both surprise, and heavy skepticism. “You cooked dinner?”

“Well, I started reheating soup and made toast,” Freddie admits, and you laugh. That sounds much more his style. “Did it when I put the kettle on, so it should be just about done now.”

The toast is certainly done, and the soup is bubbling happily away on the stovetop- a little too happily, in fact, and you’re quick to turn the burner down and give it a stir. You season it a bit more to hide the slightly burnt taste, finish making two cups of tea, and are just pulling down plates and bowls when another gust of wind shakes the building.

The flights flicker again, browning out for a moment before feebly coming back on… and then a loud clap of thunder rattles the windows and the lights cut out completely, plunging the room into darkness. Your breath hitches and you’re thankful that the gas burner on the stove is giving off at least a little light.

There’s a a thump from down the hall, and you jump before you hear a familiar muffled curse. “Fred?” you call out. “Everything alright?”

“Fine, just fine, darling,” Freddie says as he walks, carefully, into the kitchen. “Bumped into the bathroom sink when the power went out, that’s all.”

With the power out and the storm raging outside there’s hardly any light coming in through the windows, apart from the occasional flashes of lightning. “Do you remember where we put the torches?” you ask Freddie, voice hopeful.

“Bedroom closet, I think, but we never picked up batteries for them,” Freddie says. He pulls a lighter out of his pocket and reaches around you to grab one of the many candles scattered throughout your flat. “Luckily for us, my taste in decorations comes in handy in emergencies like this.”

“At least until you burn the place down,” you say as Freddie lights a second candle. You try to keep your voice light, because you know it’s silly to be afraid of a little power outage and you don’t want Freddie fussing.

Freddie scoffs. “I’m not going to burn the place down with a few candles, honestly…”

You, wisely, decide not to answer that. Still, now that you can see what you’re doing, you’re quick to dish out dinner and switch off the burner. You nudge Freddie, stopping him from lighting a third candle, and tell him, “C’mon, let’s get set up in the living room.”

You take the candles with you, and as Freddie lights a few more around the room you pull out the small battery-powered radio that hardly gets used and try to turn it on. It stays silent, even after you hit in frustration. “First thing tomorrow morning I am buying new batteries,” you mutter as you toss it across the room.

Freddie laughs as he lights the last candle, and sits down next to you on the couch. “Well, even without music I think this is a wonderfully romantic little evening, wouldn’t you agree, dear?”

Another rumble of thunder shakes the house, louder than before. It makes your heart race, and you wait for the storm to quiet down for a moment before saying dryly, “Oh, yes, it’s very romantic to be stormed in without power, which means no heat and few options for things to do to pass the time.”

“I have a few ideas on how we can stay warm and pass the time…” Freddie purrs, one hand on your thigh as he leans in to kiss your neck.

You turn your head at the last second and capture his lips with your own, keeping the kiss lighter than you know Freddie wants. When you pull away he pouts a little and you laugh, and promise, “Later, maybe. We can’t spend all evening having sex just because the power’s out.”

Freddie huffs, over-dramatic and exaggerated, and says, “I can’t believe I ended up with the most un-romantic boyfriend in all of London.”

You know he’s joking and you don’t take offense, especially not when he curls up against your side. It’s comforting having Freddie pressed close to you as the two of you eat dinner in an easy silence. It helps soothe some of your nerves, and you start to relax for the first time since the power cut out… At least until the room lights up with another bright flash of lightning, immediately followed by a crack of thunder so loud that you jump at the sound of it.

Your sudden movement dislodges Freddie, who yelps as his tea sloshes over the side of his cup and onto his hand. “Shit, shit!” he swears, quickly setting his cup and shaking out his hand.

“Oh, god, Freddie I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” you ask, fumbling to set down your own bowl and cup.

“I’m alright, darling, it wasn’t too hot,” Freddie assures you, but he gives you a curious look and asks, “Are you alright though? You’re not usually one to startle that easily.”

You force a laugh, prepared to brush aside Freddie’s concerns, when the building shakes with the force of another lightning strike. You let out a small, startled “Eep!” and burrow closer to Freddie.

Freddie immediately wraps an arm around your shoulders, holding you close. “I didn’t know you were scared of storms, lovie,” he says. You can hear the amusement in his voice but you appreciate that he’s not laughing at you, even though you know you’re being ridiculous.

“I’m not afraid-” Your breath hitches as another loud crack! momentarily drowns out the sound of the rain and gusting wind. “It’s not the storm. I like storms, usually.”

“Then what is it, dear?”

“I get nervous when the power goes out,” you admit. “I don’t mind the dark and I don’t mind the weather, but something about the two together…” You shiver, and Freddie presses a reassuring kiss to the top of your head. “What if the phonelines go down and something happens and we can’t get help? Or it starts flooding and we’re trapped in the dark and no one can get to us? Or the storm lasts for days and the heat doesn’t come back on and-”

“Okay, darling, that’s quite enough of that,” Freddie says. He stands up, pulling you with him, and he doesn’t let go of you as he blows out all the candles except one which he picks up to the guide the way into the bedroom.

“Fred, I’m not in the mood for-”

“Oh, hush, we’re not in here for that,” Freddie says, though as he pushes you gently down onto the bed he smirks a little and adds, “Although, if you do change your mind…”

You know he’s mostly teasing to try to cheer you up and you smile at him, a little crookedly but still completely genuine. Freddie beams back at you and says, “Now, darling, get under the covers. I’ll blow out the candle so we can just pretend that we’ve gone to bed early, and I’ll talk your ear off until you forget all about the storm, alright?”

“Alright,” you agree, though you’re not sure that anything could really make you forget about the tempest raging outside or the way the building creaks and groans around you.

Still, as another flash of lightning brightens up the room, you follow Freddie’s orders and dive under the blankets. This time Freddie does laugh, but it isn’t mean-spirited, and a moment later he joins you under the covers. He opens his arms and you scoot into them, tucking your face into the crook of Freddie’s neck as your quiet whine is drowned out by the rumble of thunder.

You’ve always felt a little childish, getting this scared by power outages. You know that the odds of something catastrophic happening are very, very small but it somehow knowing that doesn’t help in moments like this. Neither does having your partners tell you constantly, and condescendingly, that your fears are unfounded.

So you’re grateful that when Freddie starts talking he says nothing of the sort.

“When I was a child, we had monsoons. Proper ones, for three months of the year, every year like clockwork. It didn’t rain constantly throughout the day, but the torrential downpours when it did rain were unlike anything else.”

Freddie’s voice is soft, and you listen without saying anything. It’s not often that Freddie talks about life in Zanzibar and even now there’s a distant, thoughtful note in his words, as if he’s thinking back to some half-forgotten dream rather than recounting his own memories.

“And the storms that came at the end of the season- you’ll never see lightning like that here in England, lovie, that’s for sure! And the floods, my god the floods! The streets would fill with rivers of water, and one of my classmates who lived outside the city lost his house to it all one year.”

The more Freddie talks, the more animated he gets. It makes you want to kiss him, or ask a thousand questions of your own, but you don’t want to interrupt his story. You have a feeling that, if you do, he won’t resume it. So you stay quiet, occasionally jumping a little at a particularly loud burst of thunder or ominous groan from the building as it’s buffeted by the wind, but the more engrossed you become in Freddie’s story the less the storm bothers you.

“We knew to expect them, and what to expect from them, but tragedies still happened every year and that didn’t stop the monsoons from coming. You just have to hold onto those you love and move forward, no matter what the whims of nature may throw your way.”

Freddie shifts so the two of you are face to face, and when he smiles it’s so gentle and full of love that it makes your heart ache to see it. “I can’t promise you that nothing bad will happen because of this storm. But I can promise you that we’ll get through it together, alright darling? And in the meantime, I’ll do my best to distract you however you want.”

You kiss Freddie, with a mumbled, “I love you, Freddie,” that’s mostly lost in the press of his mouth against yours and the rumble of thunder outside, but the storm seems like a distant worry now. You press close to Freddie, deepening the kiss, feeling every inch of where your bodies touch and wanting more, wanting to disappear into Freddie until he’s all you can feel and all you can think about.

This time it’s Freddie who pulls back first and he says, “I promise I didn’t tell you that story just to get in your pants.”

You laugh, and give him another quick peck. “I know,” you tell him, before rolling on top of him and smiling wickedly down at him. “But it’s now “later” and you did promise me distractions…”

Freddie laughs, bright and delighted, and surges up to kiss you again. And if you jump a little at a particularly violent crack of lightning, you pretend it’s just because his hands start wandering south and he’s kind enough not to comment on it.

——————————-

When you wake up the next morning, the sun is shining through the bedroom window and Freddie is nowhere to be seen. You try to turn on the lamp by the side of the bed but it stays off. The power is still out, then, but with the storm passed and the light of day brightening the room you don’t feel on-edge like you did the night before.

It’s not until you leave the bedroom that you realize the flat isn’t entirely silent. There’s the low sound of music coming from the kitchen, and as you walk in you can see Freddie leaning over the stovetop with the battery-powered radio that you know was dead last night playing some quiet tune.

“You found the batteries, then?” you ask.

Freddie jumps and turns to face you. “Fuck, Y/N, make some noise next time! You scared me half to death, dear!”

You laugh and lean up to give him a quick kiss. “Sorry, Fred.” You nod towards the radio on the counter and ask again, “Batteries?”

“Yes, well, now that it’s not pitch-black in here I was able to find a few in the back of the hall closet,” Freddie says. “Popped two in the radio so we can hear any updates on getting power back, and put the rest in the torches just in case we need them tonight. And I was trying to see if I can get a burner lit to make tea, but-”

You pluck the lighter out of Freddie’s hand and nudge him away from the stove. “You are a menace in the kitchen, so I’ll get the hot water sorted.”

Freddie pouts. “Excuse me, I made soup last night!”

“You did,” you agree. “But I still don’t fancy you burning down the place trying to get the gas lit.”

Freddie huffs and you kiss him again, a little longer this time, one hand come up to cradle his face. “I still love you, though,” you tell him, when you finally pull away. “And… thank you. For last night, I mean. Most people just laugh at me, and-”

“I would never,” Freddie interrupts gently, a soft smile on his face. “There are far more irrational things you could be afraid of, and I wouldn’t laugh about those either.” He kisses you again, then kisses your noise, your cheek, and when you turn your head, laughing, he lands a final kiss almost on your ear. “Now, I believe I was promised tea? Unless you’d rather head back to bed instead…”

You think about that for a moment, before tossing the lighter on the counter and dropping your hands to hold onto Freddie’s waist, pulling him close to you. He looks genuinely surprised by the action and you can’t help but tease, “You know, sometimes I can be romantic too…”

“More like you can be-” Freddie begins, but you cut him off with another kiss and the two of you stumble back towards the bedroom.

#freddie mercury x reader #queen fic #queen band fic #freddie mercury x male reader #freddie mercury fic #freddie mercuy fanfic #mercurys-oldfashioned-loverboy #my fic #freddie #(I will not apologize for using borhap lyrics as the title for this)#(also I think I'm just gonna name my next fic ''I didn't research this'' because that seems to be a recurring theme here lmfao)

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its-2am-bois · 5 years ago

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I wrote a fic so long story short here’s oswald riding ed please enjoy (NSFW btw)

“Ouch.”

“Agreed.” Ed grumbled, helping Oswald limp through the lounge. They’d have the staff clean up the trail of bloody footprints before they opened for the night. “Sorry I can’t get the cuffs off yet.”

“I’d rather wait until you deal with that.” Oswald glanced at the bloody rag they had wrapped Ed’s hand up in. He had maybe been a bit impulsive, punching through that car window the way he had. “I think we still have some thread left, if you want to stitch it up…not sure about needles, though.”

“I put in a new pack last week. We keep running out.”

Was that concerning? It probably was, but Ed wasn’t going to think too hard about it.

After a quick detour to the bar they both collapsed on the leather couch in his office, Oswald sprawling on top of Ed with his head thrown back over Ed’s shoulder, Ed sewing up his cut hand while he nursed a split lip and a glass of bourbon. For awhile they just lay there in a heap, then Ed realized there was something buzzing in his lap and gave Oswald a nudge.

“Someone’s calling you.”

“Oh.” Ed raised his head when he heard the sheepishness in Oswald’s voice. Was that a blush in his cheeks? “It…that’s not my phone.”

Now that wasn’t suspicious at all. Ed blinked, pushing up his blood splattered glasses and squinting at Oswald. “Alright then… so what is it?”

“None of your business, that’s what it is.” With a bit of a struggle Oswald staggered upright and headed over to his desk, and Ed couldn’t help but notice he had a bit more waddle in his step than usual. Couple that with the way he slumped over his desk like he couldn’t hold himself up, the blush in his cheeks…from there it wasn’t hard to put two and two together.

“Oh, Oswald.” Ed smiled, his voice trembling with laughter. “You’re telling me you went through a hostage situation, blew up the Moehler family’s weapons cache, stole a patrol car, and the whole time you had a vibrator-“

“Yes, you idiot.” Oswald snapped, glowering over his shoulder at Ed. Admittedly it was a bit difficult taking him seriously when he was bent over the desk with his ass sticking in the air. It wasn’t like Ed was going to complain about the view, though. “And I can’t get it out because of these goddamn cuffs…Why are you laughing?”

“I’m not, I’m not…” Maybe he was. “Just hold still, okay? I’ll get it out.”

Oswald let out a huffy breath, his fingers twitching as he grabbed a silk handkerchief out of his jacket. “It’s been driving me insane.” he complained, shakily wiping the sweat from his brow. “They were threatening to cut my damn fingers off and I couldn’t pay attention because I was about to come in my pants…”

“You think they noticed?” Ed pulled off his glove and smoothed his thumb over Oswald’s pudgy hip, reaching around to undo his belt. His clothes seemed to be getting a bit tight, but his tailor was locked up in Arkham at the moment so there wasn’t much that could be done.

“God, I hope not…” The second Ed popped the button Oswald sighed in relief and slumped forward, letting Ed pull his pants down. “Moehler’s thugs turned up right after I put it in. I was just hoping the batteries would die.”

“No such luck, clearly.” Ed hummed, rubbing the underside of Oswald’s belly where his belt kept chafing the sensitive skin. He bit his tongue when Oswald pressed back against the front of his pants, his cock giving a sudden twitch of interest. “Now why were you walking around with a vibrator in there, huh?”

Oswald seemed to contemplate whether or not that even deserved a response, then he huffed and propped his chin up on his hands like a grumpy schoolboy.

“I know what you want me to say, so I’ll just say it. I got lonely ‘cause you decided you just had to rob that bank today, and I needed to distract myself. So here we are.” Oswald pouted. He swayed his hips lazily as he spoke, rutting up against the desk for just a bit of relief. It was hypnotizing. “Which means this is all your fault.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll take full responsibility.” Ed couldn’t help but grin as he inched down Oswald’s boxers, running his fingers over the creamy, quivering skin. He could almost feel the vibrations sending a tremor through Oswald’s body, slight but definite. “So…while you got this in here…”

Oswald actually laughed, cracking one eye open and smirking back at Ed. “Opportunistic, much?”

“You can’t deny that it’s convenient.” Ed pointed out. He spread Oswald’s ass and ran his thumb over the base of the glossy black vibrator, feeling it purr away under his touch. Was it strange that they were horny after narrowly escaping death? It was probably strange. But no stranger than anything else that happened to them, honestly. “So is that a yes…?”

“Alright, alright, have your fun.” Oswald couldn’t quite stifle a gasp when Edward started to thrust the vibrator, his knees nearly buckling while his grip tightened on the desk. He buried his face in his arms and moaned, his back arching and pretty blond lashes fluttering. “Goddammit…”

“You okay?” Ed leant in and kissed along Oswald’s jawline, mouthing lazily at the pudge spilling over his collar. Oswald shivered and rolled over to kiss him properly, Ed just barely managing to shove aside a stack of paperwork and the highballs from earlier before their lips were pressed together, a smoky hint of blood and bourbon still on Oswald’s lips. His cock was laying up against his belly, flushed pink and achingly hard; just looking at it made Ed’s mouth go dry. It wasn’t like his situation was any better, though. He was feeling lightheaded. “That looks painful…”

“You think?” Suddenly Oswald sat up and pulled open a desk drawer, pushing aside a pistol and tossing Ed a bottle of lube. “You try wearing a vibrator for four hours, see how you fare.”

“Can’t really argue with that.” Ed’s eyes scanned Oswald’s frame as he kicked his pants and boxers off, managing surprisingly well despite the restraints. Oh. So this was where things were going. “Don’t you want the cuffs off?” he asked, scrambling to get himself undressed, too. You’d think he would be more coordinated, but seeing Oswald in any state of undress was enough to throw him off his game for awhile.

“Literally the last thing on my mind right now.” Oswald breathed. He shoved Ed down onto the couch and swung his good leg over his hips, the press of his thighs soft and warm, heavy against Ed’s crotch. While he got himself situated Ed traced the inside of Oswald’s thigh with his fingertip, following the path of silver and pink stretchmarks zigzagging his skin like roads on a map. “Now take it out, for the love of God.”

“Slow down, sweetheart…” Once Ed slicked up his cock he reached around and pulled out the vibrator, gasping when Oswald immediately sank down onto his cock, taking it all the way to the hilt. “Oh, okay. Fuck-“

Oswald just grunted, sitting back as he bounced on Ed’s cock, the cuffs not slowing him down much at all. He looked a wreck, his face red and shirt rucked up over his jiggling stomach, both of his pupils blown wide. Ed wasn’t doing much better, honestly. Already he could feel heat coiled in the pit of his stomach, sweat beading on his bruised chest. The both of them would be sore as hell after this, that was for sure. Not to say it wasn’t worth it.

“God, Oswald-“ he gasped, gripping a handful of Oswald’s thigh with one hand and jacking him off with the other, his thumb catching on the head of his cock, his palm getting slick with lube and pre-come. “Can’t go - shit, that’s it - can’t go any slower?”

Oswald slurred out an answer, his head falling back as he sank down again. Ed figured that was a no, so he just reached up and grabbed Oswald’s shoulder, helping guide him up and down when he started to sag forwards. But he didn’t show any signs of slowing down, so Ed started to talk, concentrating on that so he wouldn’t come first. For Oswald’s sake, mostly.

“You must have needed it pretty badly if you were wearing a vibrator at work.” he gasped out, his voice ragged at the edges. “Not very professional of you, Penguin-”

He was cut off when Oswald fell forward, pressing their lips together in a messy kiss. The fact all his weight was planted squarely on Ed’s bruised ribs didn’t even register. Most of his focus was on Oswald’s grip on his hair, the soft little moans that kept slipping out of his mouth. He gripped Oswald’s ass with his free hand, pinning him down, making him clench around his cock.

“You close?” Ed breathed against Oswald’s panting lips. When he nodded Ed managed to reach down between them and get a grip on Oswald’s cock, both of their chests heaving as they moved together, edging closer by the moment. Oswald matched every buck of Ed’s hips, his belly trembling and voice mostly gone, fingers spasming uselessly on Ed’s chest.

When they both finally came it was uncharacteristically quiet; just a whimper and the feeling of come splattering Ed’s hand and ribs. Oswald collapsed with a whine and Ed’s cock slipped out with a wet pop, come streaking Oswald’s ass in white streaks. Ed blinked the stars out of his eyes, dazedly patting Oswald’s back as he tried to compose himself.

“Okay.” Oswald wheezed after awhile. He had made no move to roll off of Ed’s chest, but Ed wasn’t about to complain. It was a bit like having a weighted blanket. “Wow, okay…”

“Mm…” Ed nodded in agreement as he dragged his trembling fingers through the mess of come drying on Oswald’s skin. Oswald let out a shaky sigh, his hole still twitching and the flutter of his lashes tickling Ed’s neck. But after awhile he sat up, looking down at the come on his belly and puffing out his chubby cheeks.

“I should get cleaned up…”

“Cuddling first.” Ed insisted, pulling Oswald back down and massaging his belly, feeling how his whole body was still quivering with aftershocks. Oswald grumbled for a bit, but once Ed got the cuffs off he sighed and wrapped his arms properly around Ed’s neck, nibbling and kissing at his sinewy neck.

“Thanks for coming to get me, Eddie.” he said sheepishly, looking up and adjusting Ed’s glasses for him. “I was worried for a minute there…”

“What was I supposed to do, let a second rate crime family kill the king of Gotham?” Ed smiled and kissed the bracelet of bruises around Oswald’s wrists, letting Oswald muss up his already disheveled curls. Once he got the rest of Oswald’s clothes off Ed hugged him tight, his lips pressed to his sweat damp hair. “That would’ve just been undignified.”

“And what exactly was dignified about getting kidnapped with a vibrator in my ass in the first place?”

“Guess you have a point…” Oswald’s nostrils flared and he twisted one of Ed’s nipples in retaliation. “Ow! What the hell-“

“You weren’t supposed to agree with me!“

“But you were right, why would I disagree when you’re right?”

“To make me feel better, jackass-“

The bickering carried on for quite awhile after that.

#hey look i wrote a thing #fic #nygmobblepot #chubwald #gotham #oswald cobblepot #edward nygma

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dingleberry-7708 · 2 years ago

Text

So I have a ‘98 Furby now.

(I haven’t gotten him to actually start yet....well, I’ve tried to but with no luck. Also his mouth is currently stuck open.)

For now here’s a stupid picture of him I took on my camcorder where he has a flathead screwdriver in part of his beak

#furby #furby 1998 #i put new batteries in him and followed the quick start guide (as well as some....interesting tips from my discord friends who have multiple #but nothing has happened yet)#so im gonna wait and see if he does anything overnight.....HEHEHEHEHEHHEHREHREJHRFJERFGDJFGFEJDFHB #also hes a JT furby #and his codename is richard #(for context im gonna be giving my furbies codenames)

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dontdietwd · 5 years ago

Text

Don’t Die, day 11

It all happened too fast.

As I fled from the house through the kitchen door, it was all a blur of running and noise, Daryl and Merle’s heavy, hurried steps right on my heels and the loud groans and growls from the two dead people running after us. Daryl ran faster than me and guided us around my house to reach his. As we reached the porch, I looked back and saw Bobbi-Jo’s dead, stumbling but surprisingly agile body turning the corner, the half-face she still had with perfect makeup, but her eyes void of any life.

We’d entered the Dixon’s house, locked all the doors, and had been there ever since. The house had three entrances; the front door, the kitchen door to the side, which led to another small porch, and the basement hatch door, that had always been locked and blocked by an old wardrobe and had never been a viable way in and out. The kitchen door was now blocked by an old and very heavy dresser, cardboard blocking the glass view. The front door, the only one that was left unblocked, was constantly guarded.

If I had to recollect and tell exactly who things went, I wouldn’t be able to. I don’t know if it was the electricity, the phone signal or the internet that went down first. I don’t remember if we searched through the house looking for things that could be useful before or after we saw dozens of dead people walking around the street, Bobbi-Jo among them. The battery radio still worked, but no useful information came out of it.

It was a virus. It was a parasite. It was bacteria. The cure was known. No, that cure didn’t work. It was the end of the world. Don’t let yourself get bit by one of them. That’s how you die and then turn. We will find the cure; we’ve got the best people working on it. Don’t get bit until then. The CDCs all over the country were working on it. Go to Atlanta. Go to Atlanta. There’s a center, food, and shelter until the cure is found. It’s safe. Don’t get bit and go to Atlanta.

“Yeah, but that ain’t true, is it?” Merle dragged in the same old, drunken voice, a bottle of beer in hand, his back to the arm of the couch, a leg resting along with it. “Sons of bitches don’t know nothin’.”

“What are you on about?” Daryl asked from his watch by the window.

“D wasn’t bit, was he now?”

“Nope,” I answered from the other couch where I was lying. “Died from a stab in the neck. Only one who bit him was me.”

“What?” Merle questioned, frowning.

“I bit him, you don’t remember that?” I sat up, bare feet resting on the worn out, dusty mat. “The night before. And I sure as hell ain’t one of those fuckin’ dead things”, I finished as I got up, leaning over to reach for a pack of cigarettes from the coffee table. “So ya right, son of bitches know nothing.”

“We don’t know he wasn’t bit,” Daryl said looking at me as I approached him putting one cigarette between my lips and handing him the pack. “He coulda been. Damn fucker was so hammered all the time, coulda forget it happened.”

“Or that.” I agreed.

Daryl threw the pack at Merle after he took a cigarette for himself and we went silent again like we were most part of the time when Daryl and Merle weren’t fighting, foul-mouthed and disagreeing on everything. I hadn’t slept more than a few minutes but felt alert anyway, I’d never needed many hours asleep to feel fine. What worried me now was that, after ten days in that house, their pantry had been emptied while we just sat around, ate, argued and fought and waited for something to happen. I worried that, after so long, nothing was actually going to change. Not if we didn’t take action, any kind of action.

“I’m going home.” Hours later I broke the silence.

“You insane?” Merle asked. “Ya can’t go back there. The street’s taken by those things. Your house’s taken.”

“You gonna end up like ‘em.” Daryl completed.

“Good to see you guys agreeing on something.” I crossed her arms and glared at them. “I’m gonna take things. Food, clothes, first aid kit, weapons. Lots of knives in the kitchen, a pistol in Bobbi-Jo’s bedroom. A rifle on the wall that might still work if we find ammo. Things on the fridge might still be good. Gonna pack all I can, you should too if we’re gonna make it to Atlanta.”

“I ain’t goin’ to no fuckin’ Atlanta.” Merle sat up, both feet now on the rug. “Won’t be nothin’ there. Shelter and food for free to everyone? Bullshit. Rich people, is all.”

“So you gonna stay here?” I opened my arms to gesture around the living room. “And do what? Starve to death? Thirst yourself dry? You don’t even wanna go next door for supplies, how ya gonna get food?”

He didn’t answer, only crossed his arms, shaking his head, a stubborn smirk still on his lips. Big fucking child.

“We know how to kill ‘em.” Daryl said still from his position by the window. “Just gotta stab in the brain and don’t let ‘em come close.”

“I got two good hunting knives there, one in Owen, the other in D. Should get ‘em back too.”

We agreed but said nothing, just moved at the same time as if agreed. Only wondered about that later. Now we just moved to the kitchen table where we had previously set out a sort of kitchen knives. Daryl grabbed two of them as well as his crossbow. I chose a big butcher knife and two smaller ones and moved to the door sheathing them into my waistband being followed by Daryl.

“Ok, gotta stay together. Don’t go wandering alone.” I told him.

“I’ll have your back while you take the things.” He agreed and we gave each other a sharp nod.

Daryl pulled the door open and we crossed the threshold. The noise of the door and our steps attracted the attention of two dead people who were closest to the house, by the sidewalk. They turned their heads in slow motion, but as their dead eyes found the two living people on the porch, it was like their bodies came to life, groaning excitedly and taking stumbling but fast steps in their direction.

“Noise attracts them.” Daryl stated what I was thinking a moment before shooting an arrow right into the eye of the male one. We went down the steps and on the bottom Daryl stopped to reload the crossbow, hands working on it but head raised and eyes looking around attentively. The second dead, a female, was closer to me now. “In the brain!” Daryl reminded me.

I walked to the corpse as she walked to me and felt my heart accelerate. Damn, it really was a fuckin walking corpse, like for real, the sci-fi movies had really happened, who’d think that? But I got over that because no time to think right now or it’d bite me. I remembered how soft and easy it had been to stick the knife into D’s eye, so that’s what I went for before it could even get close enough to me. Blood splattered on me as the eyeball popped. Disgusted, all I thought then was that if this was how one got infected with whatever that was, I was screwed. But then again, we’d all touched the dead’s blood ten days ago and hadn’t got sick, so I didn’t really know what to think. Maybe it really was just bites.

“Let’s go.” I put the thought aside for now and we ran across the yard towards my house. There was one more there and Daryl’s arrow reached it easily. As we got to the steps, I heard a groan and looked back. It was Bobbi-Jo, or what used to be her. I stared at her as her corpse started coming to me. After ten days of her death, her figure was now something completely different. Her exposed flesh had started decaying; her eyes seemed even whiter than before, what was left of the skin of her face a nauseating shade of gray. Her eye makeup had oozed down her cheek.

“Sam!” Daryl’s voice called from the porch. I didn’t remember having ever heard him say my name before, I hadn’t even been sure if he knew it.

“Go, I got her.” I told him and heard his steps entering the house only a moment later like he had paused to decide and then moved. I let Bobbi-Jo approach, less agile than she had been days before, but still quick. When she was close enough, I grabbed her by the neck, keeping her dead, moaning form away from me at arm’s length. My heartbeat got even faster, I could feel in my temple, and my throat suddenly tightening. Bobbi was small, the same size as me, but had always been thinner as an effect of too many drugs.

In the moment I looked into Bobbi-Jo’s dead eyes, I remembered years of having her present in my life. The moment I had met her, my dad bringing her to our house and introducing her as his girlfriend. I remember thinking how could she be my dad’s girlfriend if she looked to be my own age. Later, I found out Bobbi-Jo was only seven years older than me. I remembered us moving from Atlanta to Savannah. I hadn’t wanted to. Dad didn’t really want to either, but Bobbi-Jo had insisted. That’s when they started living together, and it was hell on earth. We fought all the time when dad wasn’t home, and in the beginning Bobbi-Jo would pretend to be the victim when he arrived, but after a while she didn’t even do that anymore. I hated her. I hated her with all my might, I hated her for all the horrible things she told me, for the physical fights, for making dad father suffer, for cheating on him, for spending all the money he had gathered from years of hard work in a carpentry. For pretending in front of friends and family that she was suffering when he was dying from cancer. For getting herself a new boyfriend less than a month after he died. I hated having had to stay in the house, hated having Bobbi-Jo still live there. We each owned half of it, neither wanted to leave it to the other.

“Yeah, you bitch?” I snarled at her. “How’d ya like that? All the trouble ya had and that’s how ya die. Hope it was as painful as his death.” I raised the knife, eyes burning with all the remaining anger I carried with me all this time, “That’s for my dad!”

The knife entered her left eye and I held it in place for a long moment. The knot in my throat tightened painfully, the rage in my eyes being instantly replaced by tears. As I pulled he knife out, a wet noise following a splash of stinky blood, Bobbi-Jo’s body fell to the ground. With a sob, I felt no satisfaction; it just didn’t feel like it was enough. Leaning over, I stabbed a few more times, into her other eye and even into the hard bone of her temple and forehead, and I was probably groaning in anger at each stab because my throat complained quite a bit after. Finally, I stopped and straightened up, breathing hard, staring down at the disfigured head. The hand holding the knife was shaking, tears escaping my eyes.

When I turned, unable to look at the mass of flesh on my feet any longer, I saw Daryl standing under the doorframe, eyes watching me carefully, head turned downwards, crossbow hanging on his side.

“It’s clear.” he said quietly when I just looked at him, not moving or saying anything. “Was just one of ‘em inside.”

Without a word, I climbed the four steps towards the door, but Daryl didn’t move. I stopped on the step below him and looked up, eyebrows raised in question.

“You ok?” he murmured.

“Stop asking me that.”

I’m sure my voice sounded stronger than I felt at the moment. I felt my insides trembling, it that makes sense, my shoulder muscles so tense they’d stop a knife. I took a step up and passed by Daryl, our shoulders touching briefly. Stopping just by the front door, I looked around. It had been days, the house and the bodies smelled horrible, putridly, as if the air was solid. I didn’t look at the corpses for long. Daryl had already closed the kitchen door, so the only way in and out was through the front. He was taking his arrow out of the eye of the random guy Bobbi-Jo had brought home that night. I felt bile in my throat again at the smell of the living room of the house I had called home for so many years. It didn’t feel like it anymore.

“Go, I’ll keep watch.” He said carefully while he cleaned the tip of an arrow on the fabric of the couch.

It didn’t take long for me to go through the whole house. I emptied the cabinet of groceries into a backpack, there were several cans there, clothes I thought could be functional into a handbag – clean underwear! I’d been handwashing as reusing the same panties for days now! The two different pairs of boots I had and one I took from Bobbi-Jo. Hers were yellow and I hated it, but whatever. The carton of Morley packs, half a bottle of whiskey. That was for the boys. The first aid kit from under the bathroom sink. A couple of soap bars, toothbrush and toothpaste. I took the gun, checking it was loaded, two boxes of bullets from Bobbi-Jo’s wardrobe, knives from the kitchen, the rifle from the wall, and that was it.

“Hey,” Daryl stopped touching a finger softly on my shoulder as I was heading to the door carrying all the bags by myself, without asking for help. I stopped in a halt and looked up at him, a frown on my face. I was too tense and willing to get the hell out of that house for good to be expecting a touch, even the slighted ones, right now. “Thought ya’d want this.”

He handed me a picture he’d taken from a frame on the living room wall. I saw the back of it first, a sloppy handwriting that said “Jack and Sam at Chastain Park, spring 1989”. Turning it around, I saw myself as a nine-year-old sitting on top of a slide, smiling widely, blonde hair shining under the sun. Standing by my side, smiling awkwardly at the camera, was my dad, sandy hair graying on the sides, unkempt stubble, dark brown eyes lit up with contentment.

My throat tightened once again and I felt an uncomfortable prickle in my eyes, and I just nodded without looking up at Daryl. I knew that picture, of course, and it’d been on the wall for years, but I never looked at it. It was painful. I folded the picture carefully twice and reached around to my back jeans pocket, tucking it in. Taking a deep breath, I looked up at Daryl for just a second before looking out the door once again.

“Let’s go.”

We both stopped on the steps, though, Daryl once again higher than me, when we saw Merle ride his bike out of the garage of their house. He rode not once looking back, speeding away with a loud rumble, dead corpses trying to rush after it.

“Son of a bitch!” Daryl shouted as he rushed past me down the steps. She ran after him, crossing the yard to his porch and into the house, slowed down by the bags. When I entered he was rushing over the other rooms of his house. I dropped the bags by the front door before going looking for him.

“Fuckin’ bastard!” He was yelling when we met again on the corridor.

“He just left?!”

“You saw him leave, didn’t ya?” he answered angrily.

I raised her hands lifting my eyebrows in affront. Daryl just rushed past me mumbling “fuck” and I followed him into Merle’s bedroom.

“His stuff still here.” he noticed as I stood by the door.

“He’ll come back,” I said, arms crossed. “he wouldn’t leave you in this –”

“- -the hell he wouldn’t!” Daryl raised his voice again. “Is wha’ Merle do, he leaves. Not the first time.” His voice was bitter as he strode past me. When I reached the living room, having followed him one more time, Daryl was picking up one of the bags from the floor. “Let’s just go.”

“What if he comes back?” I asked with my arms still crossed.

“Yeah, maybe in a couple of months.” Daryl snorted out.

“C’mon Daryl, we don’t know that.”

“You know nothing ‘bout Merle.” he snarled turning to me, a backpack over one shoulder. “He ain’t coming back!”

“Daryl, listen, he’s just left, you sure you don’t want to wait at least a bit?”

“Why do you care if he come back anyway?”

“I don’t, really, but I know that if we leave now you might not find your brother again.” I uncrossed my arms and took a couple of steps towards him, speaking calmly. “We don’t know what’s gonna happen, how things are out there… What if you don’t see him again? What if you don’t see him again just ‘cause you couldn’t wait a few hours?”

Daryl looked from me to the door and back again, unsure, biting the skin of his lower lip.

“It’s past three, anyway,” I kept talking, knowing he was listening now “it’ll get dark soon; I don’t think we should travel at night. If not for Merle let’s at least just wait ‘til morning ‘cause it might be safer.”

Daryl stared at me, worry creasing his forehead, still biting his lip. I’d seen him do that before, anytime he was lost in thought, or worried, or unsure. He nodded sharply once after a moment and dropped the bag to the ground again, then moved away from me and deeper into the house. In the hallway leading to his bedroom, he said: “You watch over, I’ll take a nap.”

He crossed the hall with heavy steps and stormed into the room and I expected the door to be slammed closed, but he didn’t act that childishly. It was more like Merle to do that, even though he was the oldest. I think he was about ten years older than Daryl, but I’ve never known for certain. And he wasn’t here now. It was weird not having Merle there, because his presence was always known. Even if he was in his bedroom sleeping we could hear him snoring loudly and speaking on his sleep. He never slept quietly, I wonder how he even got any rest. Maybe that’s why he did all the drugs, to let go of whatever it was he had in his head.

Merle was a case to be studied. I knew very little about him. I’d been living next-door to the Dixons for eighteen years, and for a while, it was three of them; the father and the two sons. I barely saw the father over the years, he was always inside and when I did see him occasionally outside he was drunk and slurring racial insults at neighbors or inappropriate things at Bobby-Jo or myself, which turned into misogynistic ones when neither of us gave him any attention. He had died two or three years ago, I think, from something on his liver. Then it was just the two brothers. Merle had been gone from the house for long periods of time and back three of four times since I’d been there. At least one of them I knew he’d gone away with the army, I’m not sure if he went to a war or something, but in total Daryl was alone at the house for a few years. Their relation was… Delicate, let’s say. I always saw them together at the house and over the years even out throughout the city, so they seemed t be friends, but they fought a lot, never agreed on anything and Merle often talked him down. On those 10 days, I’d been cooped up in the house with them made this quite clear. I hated to hear it, I wanted to tell Merle to just shut the fuck up, but hey, who was I go meddle? I didn’t really know them; I didn’t know what was behind all that. So when it was too much I just left and locked myself in their spare bedroom, the one I’d been using, and stayed in there for a few hours.

Maybe Daryl was right. Maybe Merle had gone for good, left us, and was not coming back. Is shouldn’t bother me. It didn’t. It didn’t bother me. I couldn’t care less. What would I be missing without Merle traveling with us tomorrow morning? Not a thing. It would be better to be just with Daryl; I could deal with Daryl. He was not bad. He even spoke gently and carefully to me, something I’d never expected, something guys didn’t usually do. I would be fine, I didn’t care.

Except that I fucking did. I groaned in anger at myself and I observed the street through the window, shaking my head and taking a pull off my cigarette. I fucking cared, I wished Merle would come back. He was still Merle, still the person who verbally harassed me for years, but on those ten days in his house something had changed and I couldn’t pinpoint it, but I knew it had. He wasn’t harassing me anymore, except for a few jokes about how I should cook for them and maybe warm up their bed at night – Daryl punched him hard on the shoulder for that one and Merle laughed, even as he held his arm because that strong punch had to hurt. He was behaving not in a good manner, but in a manner I could accept. And he had come to my rescue that night, there was that. I wished he’d come back, mostly for Daryl, but also because I knew things must be dangerous out there. There was much more than this fucking neighborhood and Chatham, and if the world was ending things were not pretty out there.

But it was settled, in the morning Daryl and I were gonna go, leave this house and hit the road to Atlanta, with or without Merle. I moved from the window to the kitchen, where I lit a single candle and tried making some food. I didn’t even know what, maybe one of the last packs of powdered soup. I took a clean pan from the drying rack, placed it under the tap and opened it. It couched and gurgled and a little brown water came out, but then just air. No water. Great… I placed the pan inside the sink, rested my hands there and lowered my head. Yeah, it really was time to go.

I blew the candle off and returned to my spot by the window. We were going to hit the road. Leave our houses. I was going to leave my house and God knows when I’d be back. Of if I’d ever be back. The house I’d been living at for 18 years and had lived good moments, but also the worst of my life. I wasn’t sorry I’d be gone. I kind of wished I’d never come back. I wished life would change so drastically I’d never even had the chance to do so. Never have to decide to come back or not.

What was this weird thing I was feeling? I wasn’t bad, but shouldn’t it be bad? Shouldn’t I be dreading whatever the fuck was happening? The world seemed to be ending in rising corpses and nothing would ever be the same, why wasn’t I that scared? I mean, of course, I was scared, but in a strange way…. In a way that good things also scare us. Does that make sense? No, it doesn’t, I know it doesn’t. But I was… And I shocked myself when I found the correct word for it, even then, standing by that window as I saw a group of three dead walking up the field at the end of the road: excited. And now I judged myself for feeling it. What kind of horrible person feels that when the world is ending and so many people are dying and suffering? I hated myself for it.

I also thought of my father. I wished he had lived to go through it with me, he was always so supportive, always trying to make me look at the good side to everything, such a gentle soul. Yeah, but thinking about it made me see he was not fit for this new life, he would never be able to kill a corpse even if it was trying to kill him. No, he was too good. All of this would break his heart. And now I was crying, thinking about dad.

“Hey, we got no water,” Daryl’s voice brought me back from where my mind was to the Dixon’s dark living room. I looked back at him, who had only now figured where I was. I had lit no candles and there was just a gap in the curtain letting a little light in. Seeing me, he continued, “jus’ a warnin’ so ya have no surprise in here”, he pointed over his shoulder in the direction of the bathroom.

“Yeah,” my voice came out a little weak and hoarse. “I tried to cook something and the water was out. We got one more can of soup… Then jus’ things I bought from home.”

I turned to the window again trying hard and failing not to think of what he meant about a surprise in there, and the room was quiet again. I guessed he’d moved away again. There were six dead people roaming the street now. Their moans and crickets and cicadas singing were the soundtracks of the night.

“You okay?”

I jumped a little. His voice was closer than I expected Daryl to be. Damn, the man could be silent if he wanted to. Hunting instincts.

“Sorry,” he smirked

“Jesus, Daryl” I turned away from him again. “I’m fine. Told ya not to ask me that.”

“Is jus’…” he shrugged. “Voice’s weird. You been cryin’?”

I crossed her arms over her chest, still looking out. He didn’t have to know that. It was personal. He wouldn’t understand what I was feeling now, not even I understood. Excited that the world was ending, only sad my daddy wasn’t here to see it? Forget it.

“No,” I told him simply.

“Alright,” he stated and moved away from me in an instant. I followed him with my eyes, turning around a little. Damn, did he sound relieved that I didn’t share! Men and their troubles with feelings and stuff.

Who am I kidding, I have trouble with feelings and stuff as well.

But a little tiny part of me was a little disappointed that he didn’t insist? Yep, it definitely was.

“Did ya eat?” he asked already from the kitchen.

“No. Not hungry, you go ahead.” I responded mechanically, trying to see him in the dark, unsuccessfully. In a minute he was back, the cold can of soup in hand, half of its content in a bowl that he handed me. I didn’t take it, arms still crossed.

“Eat,” he said firmly, motioning the bowl again.

Sighing and rolling her eyes away from him, I took the bowl and started eating. That was not one of the good soups, but whatever. We ate silently, both standing looking out.

“There’s Mr. Walker from 4th street.” Daryl said around a mouthful of soup, pointing to the dead chubby, old man wearing suspenders.

“Dead man Walker.” I said in a dead serious voice.

He chuckled for a moment but caught himself and lowered his head to his can of soup quickly, going silent again. I held in a smile. This rough man could be cute sometimes and wasn’t even aware of that. Full of surprises, that guy. He’d never spoken to me before in those eighteen years but then he goes to the diner to warn me and get to my house to help and if hosting me here for 10 days like it’s all normal. I really didn’t understand.

“Why did you help me?” I asked suddenly after finishing my half soup.

“Wha’?”

“That day, with D.” I turned a little more to him after resting the empty bowl on the window sill. “You went all the way to the diner to warn me about him. Why did ya do that?”

He shrugged, not looking at me, “Was in the area.”

“Seriously, Daryl.”

He kept looking out, his expression closing up, and was silent for a moment. I just waited, staring up at him.

“Couldn’t hear him say what he’d do to ya and do nothin’.”

“Alright. Okay, you warned me, I told you I could take care of myself, but then you showed up there and helped me, and stick around and helped with the… Walker things, and then took me in here, and I’ve been here for days. It’s ‘bout all that I’m asking. Why you helping me?”

“Would you rather I didn’t?” he turned his head to me, annoyance clear in his voice.

“Oh, c’mon Daryl!” I turned away, arms up in annoyance for a moment Why couldn’t he just answer me?

“’Cause you needed, is why!” he cried, getting pissed. It was easy to piss him off. “You our neighbor twenty fuckin’ years, don’t gotta be best buddies with someone to help.”

“Well, you’re right we ain’t best buddies, but we were never even a little bit. We ain’t never talked to each other, and now I’m here practically living in your house.”

“It’s the fuckin’ Walker apocalypse out there!” Daryl yelled angrily pointing out the window. “What a fuckin’ cold-blooded motherfucker ya take me for? Ya thought I’d let the men rape and torture you, and then leave you to die alone eaten by the dead?” he snarled and took a step further, standing very close to me. I looked up at him, towering at least ten inches above me, but I didn’t flinch or blink. Somehow I knew he was not a threat. “That the kinda man ya take me for?”

I swallowed hard, my eyes locked with his, and his got a little self-aware after a second, as if he realized just how close to each other we were standing now. We’d never been close like this, even living in close quarters. I could pay attention to details on him that I never registered before. His stubble was nearly blonde, or maybe it was starting to grow grey, just how freaking blue his eyes were and the mole he had just above the left corner of his lip. Was he maybe noticing these detailed in my face too? I still had a faint bluish mark from that old slap, and my eyes probably looked tired now. No self-care with my face skin for many days now, it must look dry. Damn, I was starting to get self-conscious by him looking at me like that.

I should say something. Daryl hadn’t moved after his question, so maybe it hadn’t been rhetorical. I soundlessly cleared my throat of the lump that had formed there before saying in a very low voice, “Torture?”

Daryl nodded slowly, his jaws clenching tightly. “Yeah.”

And yet, he didn’t move.

“Guess I never thanked you.” I whispered.

That made him lower his eyes and turn again to the window, opening space between us once again. “‘S nothin’,” he mumbled tightly.

“You helped me avoid rape and torture. Guess that’s something.”

Before moving away from him, feeling too awkward and uncomfortable being so close, I touched his bicep quickly, squeezing it lightly before letting go.

#twd #twd fanfiction #twd fanfic #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #twd daryl fanfiction #twd daryl fanfic #daryl oc #daryl ofc #daryl dixon ofc #twd ofc #daryl dixon x ofc #ofc #fanfiction #fanfic #twdfanfic #original female character #daryl original female character

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mumuho · 6 years ago

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On and off - Kai (M)

When your neighbor, Kai, comes over and unknowingly takes the wrong remote control.

First (and most likely last) smut ever.

You open the bathroom door and step out in a T-shirt and your new, fun underwear, with your wet hair wrapped in a towel. Steam trails in your wake and you take a stance before the mirror, admiring your body as you dry your hair.

Today you’re feeling particularly excited and not because the weekend has come, that’s only a small part of the reason, no, the real reason is the package that arrived earlier during the week. You’ve been looking forward to trying it all week, which is also why you’ve been working hard to finish school assignments to be able to take Friday night off guilt-free.

As you blow-dry your hair the doorbell suddenly rings.

You check the peeping hole to see your neighbor standing outside.

“—ah!” Kai rings the bell again.

“Wait a second!” you yell as you quickly put on a pair of jeans and unlock the door.

Kai’s been your neighbor for two years now, the two of you take the same classes and get along surprisingly well despite not having a lot in common. It’s not unusual for him to pop by unannounced, you don’t really mind as he usually just comes over for the company.

You quickly go through possible excuses to shoo him away, unfortunately not only are you classmates and neighbors, you’re also study buddies. Kai knows with certainty you’ve finished most of your assignments and that your schedule is open so there’s no use in lying. You reluctantly open the door and Kai steps inside. Silently you vow to be less vocal about your schedule in the future.

“I’ve got things to do, so I can’t really hang out with you,” you say, hoping it’ll deter him from staying but you know it’s a futile attempt even before Kai replies.

He holds up the book in his hand. “That’s alright, I’ll just listen to music and read until you’re done.”

You sigh. Might as well get some cleaning done then. The laundry has been piling up, you were gonna put it off until Sunday, but there’s no harm in starting early.

He plops down onto your couch but is up almost immediately as he spots your newly-bought speaker. “Is this new?” he shouts.

“Yes!” you yell back from the bathroom, assuming he’s talking about the speaker.

Kai takes a seat on the floor with the speaker in his lap. The two of you hang out often enough that you’ve basically granted each other full access to the other’s apartment. Neither of you normally ask for permission but since it’s brand-new Kai explicitly asks if he can test your speaker and you give him the okay.

The remote control lies at arm’s length away, under the coffee table. Kai takes it in his hand and notes it has a slightly unconventional design. Instead of minus and plus signs, there are numbers.

Since you don’t own a TV he concludes it’s the correct one. It takes less than 15 seconds for him set up his phone to the speaker, turn the speaker on and play the music on his phone.

Kai holds his breath, listening for the music, but it’s silent. “That’s odd.” He raises the volume to the lowest setting, not wanting to startle you by suddenly blasting music too loudly.

Unbeknownst to Kai, the remote control he’s holding in his hand doesn’t belong to the speakers but to the package you received earlier that week. The very package you’ve been eager to try out. The one you're wearing right now.

You’re in the middle of putting your laundry into the washing machine when the vibrations kick in. It takes you off guard and you yelp and drop the laundry basket. Fortunately, it’s far enough from the living room that Kai doesn’t hear anything, but you’re hit with cold sweat as you realize Kai has grabbed the wrong remote.

You try to yell that he’s taken the wrong remote but get interrupted when the vibration suddenly gets more intense as Kai naively ups the strength, thinking he’s raising the volume.

“Kai, wait—” you have to put your hand over your mouth as a loud moan almost slips out. Your whole body squirms and you instinctively press your thighs together to make the vibrations less intense, but it has little effect.

Meanwhile Kai holds the speaker to his ears. “Is it broken?” he murmurs. The remote is blinking in his hand so he knows it’s not out of batteries. Frustrated, he skips number four and presses five and what follows is a loud yell from the bathroom that alarms him and he gets up to check on you.

You can’t keep your voice steady long enough to tell Kai to turn it off. I have to get these off. You pray that he stays away long enough for you to get the underwear off and close the bathroom door. Normally you’re a quick dresser but the intense pleasure has you moving slowly as you find some angles hits you right in the spot, which in any other situation would’ve been wonderful but at this moment you’re simply trying to avoid anything that might send you over the edge. Unfortunately, you don’t get further than unbuttoning your jeans.

As Kai gets closer to the bathroom, he can hear you making noises. Is she... moaning? The sudden thought makes his heart jump up his throat.

When you unbuttoned your jeans, you had to use both hands, which meant nothing was helping you muffle your moans other than sheer willpower. And judging by Kai's reaction, there wasn't a lot of willpower there.

“—ah, is everything okay?” He peers into the bathroom to see you on your knees, hunched over. In a second he’s by your side checking on you. “What’s the matter?”

“Turn. It. Off.” Your voice is short and strained.

“Turn what off?” he asks.

“You. Took. Wrong. Remote!” The last word comes out raw with pleasure and the embarrassment almost kills you, because you know he notices that. Notices everything. The ragged breathing, the buzzing, and the way your body squirms. Just hold back a bit longer. Don’t give in. You feel like you’ve jumped onto the express train with a one-stop destination that’s coming fast unless Kai turns it off.

It is only when you say those words that Kai finally connects the dots, the way your hands are pressed against your crotch to prevent him from hearing the buzzing and the whimpers, which he now realizes are your attempts at holding back the moans. “Oh, god,” he whispers as he feels his face heat up. He gets up and rushes to the living room where he presses the off-button just in time.

Your heart’s pounding so loudly you can hear it in your ears. Not having recovered from the surprise session you remain in the exact same position on the bathroom floor. Relief washing over you, but also a sense of disappointment. And a feeling of depravation that almost consumes you.

Kai appears by the door with half his body hidden to keep his own arousal unseen. “I… turned it off,” he says in a low voice and then after a long pause adds, “That was… so fucking hot.”

You actually look up in surprise at his confession. The expression alone is enough to make him swallow hard and Kai etches the image of your flushed, face that’s wearing an expression he can only describe as desperate for release, into his memory.

For a moment it’s completely silent as the two of you stare at each other. Kai can feel his pulse speed up by the second.

“Please let me turn it back on,” he pleads and your heart jumps.

Having stopped so close to the edge the ache you’re experiencing is unlike anything you’ve felt before. You never wanted Kai to see you like this, but you also never thought you’d see him aroused because of you. Even if he tries to hide it, there’s no mistaking that expression he’s wearing.

Slowly you nod in reply.

Kai lights up. “You sure?”

You take a deep breath. “Yes. Do it.”

In the quiet bathroom the buzzing is clear as day and all the good feelings come surging back to you. You instinctively put your head down to hide your expression but nothing can keep your moans away from him.

Kai can feel all the blood rushing down.

Since you’ve decided to not hold back any longer, he steps into the bathroom with the tent in his pants. He takes a seat in front of you, and makes you straighten up a bit so he can whisper in your ear that he’s going to turn it up a notch.

Even though you’re prepared for it, you can’t stop yourself from reacting so strongly to it.

But Kai doesn’t intend on letting the good stop there. “Come here,” he says as he guides you onto his lap and pushes your hips down. He closes his eyes and swallows hard when you grind against him. Both of you are wearing jeans and the thick material makes you both push desperately against each other. You find that when you arch your back a bit and push down against Kai the combined pressure and vibration hits you perfectly in the spot.

Kai wraps his arms around you and notices the way your facial expression begins to change. Absolutely taken by the sight, his body reacts automatically and he pushes his lips against yours. Kissing him is a very foreign but pleasant feeling.

You continue like that for a while, kissing and grinding against each other. It’s coming closer. You try to tell him but it seems you’ve lost control of your voice. And then suddenly and abruptly, everything ceases.

You open your eyes with your chest still heaving up and down quickly.

He cut the power.

The throbbing, the aching is a thousand times worse compared to before. You stare at him with a look of pure frustration.

Kai grins. “This is fun,” he says.

“You. Ass!” You are so close to the edge that your body desperately tries to reach it by grinding even harder against him. He groans as you do. “God, let me get my pants off. This is pure torture.”

“Torture?” you say with incredulity. “Try being in my shoes.”

“I’m enjoying things perfectly fine in my own,” he laughs.

You both strip down to underwear and Kai bites his lip as you resume grinding against each other. Without the layer of thick jeans masking the sensation it becomes a lot more enjoyable for both of you. Without any warning he turns on the power again but this time he jumps straight into one of the higher setting. The moan that escapes you is loud and raw.

“You really think that’s funny, huh?” you stare daggers at him.

“Very.”

You can no longer focus on anything other than that wondrous spot between your legs and the high that’s closing in fast.

Having noticed which angle elicits the strongest reaction in you, he tries to emulate it by pushing his upper body against you so you're forced to arch you back. It’s exactly what you need to be pushed over the tipping point. Your whole body tenses against him as the sensation completely overtakes you.

Kai takes in the full sight of your o-face and exhilarating moans. I’m never erasing this from my memory.

The wave slowly passes but Kai’s yet to turn the power off and you squirm and whimper due to overload of sensation between your legs. “Off! Off! Off!” you yell and Kai’s taken out of his haze.

Finally you can let your body turn to mush and you relax blissfully into Kai’s body, breathing heavily. “Did you…?” you ask.

“No,” he says very frankly but not the least disappointed, “but I’m pretty damn close.” The feeling of watching you go from frustrated to blissful orgasm is like finding a five-leaf clover while looking for a four-leafed one.

“Good,” you reply as you straighten up and look at his face. Your face still flushed. “It’s your time to experience what it’s like to be cut off right before the best part. I’ll show you what real torture is.”

Kai stares at you with a shocked expression. “Good god, you’re so fucking hot,” he murmurs as he pulls you in for a kiss.

#kai #jongin #kai scenarios #jongin scenarios #exo scenarios #exo #kpop scenarios #kai smut #jongin smut #smut

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robinrunsfiction · 6 years ago

Text

Valentine’s Challenge 2019 Day 12

Pairing: Patrick Stump x Reader Rating: General Requested By: None Word Count: ~1,100 Author’s Note: -

“Patrick, tonight has been lovely, thank you," you said as you pushed the empty dessert plate away from you.

You and Patrick had been dating for a few months and things were going really well. You were glad that you had agreed not to do too much for Valentine's Day other than go out to eat and spend time together.

"The night's not over yet," he said with a smile. You narrowed your eyes at him and he laughed. Patrick paid for the meal, then you left the restaurant hand in hand.

You got in his car and he started to drive. You weren't familiar of where you were going until you realized you were heading out of the city and up into the hills. You glanced over at Patrick, who was driving carefully up the winding road and you thought back to when you first met.

You were in a second-hand store looking at the records and felt someone looking at you. When you glanced up, you noticed a guy with glasses and baseball hat looking at you before he looked away sheepishly. You smiled and then it registered that he looked familiar. You kept digging through the records wracking your mind trying to place the guy on the other side of the display.

"Looking for anything specific?" He asked suddenly, surprising you a little.

"Oh, umm, Eagles, Bowie, Fleetwood Mac, Springsteen, Clapton, all the classics, ya know? I'm just starting to collect. I don't even have a record player yet. I keep spending the money I save up on records," you laughed, feeling your cheeks heating up because you knew you had been rambling. But he was smiling at you, and didn't seem to mind. "How about you?"

"Just looking for whatever to get some new inspiration. My name is Patrick, by the way."

And that's when it clicked. You were talking to Patrick from Fall Out Boy. Patrick from Fall Out Boy had been checking you out! You just rambled on like an idiot to Patrick from Fall Out Boy!! Your cheeks were beet red in a second.

"I'm (YN),” you stammered.

"If you ever wanna listen to your collection, I've got a record player, maybe we could hang out sometime?" He asked.

You nodded, attempting to keep your cool. He handed you his phone and you typed your number in. He texted you and you saved his number right away.

"It was nice to meet you (YN)," he said as he walked away with a few records in hand.

"Same," you called after him. Once he was out sight, you sank to the floor, completely overwhelmed by what just happened.

After a couple weeks of texting, he invited you over again, and now that you felt comfortable with him, you agreed. You went over and hung out listening to records and talking like old friends.

You didn't realize how close to the edge of the couch you were sitting when he started telling you about something dumb Pete did on tour once and as you threw your head back laughing, you fell off the couch, onto the floor, which sent you laugh even harder. Patrick rushed to kneel down next to you, holding your arms.

"Oh my God, are you ok?"

"Yea, yea, I'm fine," you said between laughs. Suddenly you locked eyes with him and you stopped laughing because of the look of genuine concern on his face. "I'm fine."

"Yea," he murmured before leaning in, his lips meeting yours.

Now he was pulling off the road to a deserted overlook, far above the city. From your seat, you could see the city sparkling below.

"Come on," he said getting out, and going to the trunk.

"Oh, are we out here to bury a body?" You asked with a sarcastic smile, following him to the back of the car.

"Haha, no. Grab that," he nodded to what looked like a small suitcase and followed him carrying a box to the front of the car. He placed the box on the hood and you followed suit, but when he opened it up it was actually a portable record player.

"Oh, cool record player! Wait where are we gonna plug it in?"

"It has back up battery power," he said smiling. "Do you like it?"

"Yea! Maybe I'll get one like this."

"Actually it is yours."

"What? Patrick, I didn't think we were going to do presents."

Patrick shrugged and smiled looking at the joy on your face.

"Thank you so much!" You wrapped your arms around him and gave him a big hug. When you pulled back you gave him a quick kiss.

"Of course. And its not that I don't love you coming over to listen to music, but I’ll be going on tour soon, and you can still listen to your music," he said as he pulled out a record and put it on the turntable. You couldn't see the cover in the dim light. Then the song started.

"This sounds familiar."

"The Air I Breath by The Hollies. Care to dance?"

You nodded and his hand found your waist and you wrapped your hands behind his neck. The night was perfect with the purple sky overhead and the city sparkling in the distance.

"Patrick, I don't think I've ever had a nicer Valentine's Day, thank you."

"I wanted it to be special. You mean the world to me. I," he paused, seeming to be choosing his words carefully. "I love you (YN)."

You grinned hearing how he felt. "Patrick I love you too. I've never felt like this about anyone before."

He pulled you closer to him and pressed his lips to yours, loving and warm. After the kiss ended, you swayed together until the song finished. You hopped up on the hood of the car while Patrick played DJ, choosing exactly the right songs. In between changing albums, you and Patrick would make out until the song needed changing, or one of you really wanted to talk about the song.

“You got any Fall Out Boy in there? I hear the singer is pretty amazing," you teased after a while.

"Hmm, I don’t think I do, but how about an a capella performance?"

"Ooh yes please!"

Patrick wrapped his arm around your shoulder and leaned back against the windshield.

One look from you And I'm on that faded love Out of my body And flying above If there were any more left of me I'd give it to you And I'll tell you that I-I am fine But I-I'm a missile that's guided to you

"I love it. I love you."

"I love you too (YN)."

Masterlist

#valentine's challenge #patrick stump x reader #patrick stump fanfic #patrick stump fan fiction #patrick stump fan fic #patrick stump imagine #fall out boy fan fic

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sml8180 · 6 years ago

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Shot at Redemption - 02

A New Day

The night hadn’t been as bad as Rose had anticipated. She’d found a small cabin out in the woods that seemed to have been ransacked and abandoned, and she’d stayed there overnight after finding nobody inside. It didn’t seem like anyone had been in there for some time, considering the general lack of anything inside. There had been a pile of basic furniture outside when she’d arrived, but much of it was damaged and of no use to her. Despite that, it was still better than sleeping out in the woods, where who knows what could’ve gotten to her. The sleep wasn’t bad, considering she’d hardly slept most of the last week. Waking late in the day to noise outside the cabin, all Rose could think to do was hold her breath and pull out the 1911 she kept in her bag for emergencies. She stood up from the makeshift bed she’d set up on the floor, and made her way to one of the windows, tucking the gun into the waist of her pants to keep it out of view.

Outside the window, the small woman caught sight of someone who had just passed by. She only spotted the back portion of the person’s hat, having missed their face. A moment later, there was a knock at the door, and a male voice calling from outside for her to open up. With slow and quiet steps, Rose made her way to the door, picking up a beanie from her bag and pulling it on over her hair. With a quick check through the window in the door, she opened it up, ready to draw her 1911 if need be.

“Well, looks like someone’s out here, after all. Name’s Earl Whitehorse, I’m the Sheriff here for Hope County.” The man Rose found on the other side of the door was friendly enough as he introduced himself. “Sorry to disturb you, miss, just passing through, checking in. Are you here alone?”

“Yeah, I’m alone,” Rose confirmed with a nod. She tried to seem unconcerned as she leaned against the doorframe. “I appreciate the concern, Sheriff.”

“Just doing my job. With the Peggies starting to act out more, gotta make sure everyone’s safe, and this cabin’s pretty close to the compound.” The Sheriff sounded concerned for Rose, despite not knowing her. “I’d suggest getting somewhere farther out, but it’s your decision. If you stay, just keep an eye out,” he warned.

Rose gave him a nod, “Of course. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Whitehorse gave her a friendly smile and nod, bidding her a good day before he stepped away from the door, turning to leave. Once he was out of sight, Rose let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. The encounter had gone far better than she’d expected, and he hadn’t even hinted at any form of recognition of her face. The small woman let herself slump against the doorframe with a sigh, looking out at the woods that surrounded the cabin. She could look through what furniture was out by the path, bring in what wasn’t broken and set up a sort of home base for herself, now that she wasn’t so exhausted. First, though, she needed something to eat. She hadn’t wanted to go into what little she’d kept in her backpack, but she didn’t have much of a choice, now. Not eating for as long as she had wasn’t exactly a good thing.

Heading back inside, Rose knelt by her bag, pulling out a change of clothes and a granola bar. It was small, but still better than nothing. She opened the wrapper and took a bite, starting to think over what she’d need to make this place a bit more livable. The first thing to come to mind was a bed; even just a mattress would be better than sleeping on the floor again. Next, maybe a table and a chair, and finally a radio of some kind. Even though it wasn’t much, it would still likely take her most of the day to get it all together, depending on what she could salvage from the pile outside. After finishing her bar, Rose got up and went to see if she could get cleaned up a bit. Surprisingly, the cabin did have running water, even if it was on the cold side, it wasn’t ice cold, and it was certainly better than nothing. She washed up quickly, and got changed into her spare clothes, before brushing out her hair and braiding it into a set of pigtails to keep it out of the way.

At this point, Rose almost regretted ditching her phone somewhere along the highway. Even though there was probably no signal out here, she’d had music downloaded onto the damn thing. The near silence of the woods was getting to her as she picked through the furniture that had once been inside the cabin. The mattress had been thrown on top of the pile, and it was in surprisingly good shape. She’d gotten lucky, it probably hadn’t rained since it was put out, so it wasn’t ruined by the water. It took some time, despite being fairly strong, Rose wasn’t exactly big by any means, which made dragging the mattress off the pile and inside anything but easy. After a good hour or so, Rose got it inside and where she wanted it.

Following a short breather, the woman got back to work, finding a table and a couple of chairs, pulling them inside. She set up the chairs and table, putting them in one of the corners of the cabin. It wasn’t much, but at least it was something to feel a little like a home. There was no telling how long she’d be staying here, but Rose honestly hoped that it wouldn’t be just a week or two, like everywhere else she’d stayed lately. The only thing she hadn’t been able to find was a radio. The one outside was broken, having likely been thrown from the doorway. Maybe she could find a handheld radio somewhere. With that idea, she started to look through the drawers built into the counter in the small kitchen space. She found some utensils, various odds and ends, and almost miraculously, she found a small handheld radio shoved to the back of one of the drawers. The batteries seemed good when she tested it out, bringing a smile to Rose’s face. It was a small victory, but a victory all the same.

Further exploration of the small cabin lead Rose to find a couple of fishing poles and a tackle box, and determined how she’d be spending her afternoon. The cabin wasn’t far from a river where she could likely catch something for dinner, and so she gathered up what she would need, tucked her 1911 into the shoulder holster she’d put on under her flannel, and started out towards the water. It was calm down by the river, and it reminded Rose of her childhood back in Maine. She’d learned how to fish when she was young, and though she hadn’t been able to fish in years, she was sure that she could still remember what she was doing. After a couple of failed casts, and a good amount of Rose cursing under her breath, she finally managed to get her line far enough out. She took a seat on a large rock beside her, and settled in to wait for something to bite.

The initial wait wasn’t as long as Rose had anticipated, though the result was only a small 4-inch catch. Despite the things she’d done before coming to Hope County, the woman did have standards, and she quickly released the small fish back into the water, resetting her line and trying again. The next few bites weren’t much better; a couple more small fish, and one that broke her line. With a “Fuck you” in the general direction of the fish that broke her line, Rose sighed and reset with a new hook. By now, it was late afternoon, so she’d only have time for one or two more casts before she had to start heading back. After casting her line out once more, and settling on her rock, she waited, looking up and down the coast to pass the time.

Not too far up the coast to her left, Rose spotted a group of people gathered around, looking much like the one she’d encountered yesterday. This time, though, it didn’t seem to be the same man speaking to them. Whoever it was, he was standing in the water, arms outstretched and taking hold of one of the others who approached him, guiding them to his side. A moment passed, before the person was guided underwater and held there while the man seemed to speak, before he pulled them back up, seemingly gasping for breath. Rose watched as the drenched person walked back up to the shore, and another came down, the cycle repeating.

“Just some kind of baptism. You do you, people, you do you,” Rose turned away from the sight, mumbling to herself. She didn’t believe in God, or anything like that. She didn’t discount those who did, she could be wrong after all, but she didn’t think the idea held much water.

Waiting until she got a bite, Rose softly hummed to herself, not paying the baptism going on any mind, and not even noticing when they all left, aside from the man who’d been leading it. When she finally felt a tug at her line, the small woman acted fast, cursing under her breath as the fish fought her. A few pulls, reeling the fish in and letting it take the line out, she slowly got it to her, close enough to get it out of the water. Finally, she’d gotten something she could work with. During her efforts to pull the fish in, Rose hadn’t even noticed the baptist from earlier approaching her, until he finally said something.

“A nice catch, as my brother would likely say.” The sudden sound of a man’s voice behind her made Rose turn quickly, stumbling on the rocks under her feet. The speaker reached forward, grabbing her arm to catch the small woman before she fell into the water.

“Sneaking up on people like that is kind of a dick move, you know?” Rose looked up at the man, taking in his features. Like the man she’d encountered yesterday, he didn’t seem to be a threat. His hair was short, brown and slicked back, and he had more of a beard than the other man, with bright blue eyes. The top few buttons of his shirt were undone, and under the key he had dangling around his neck, there was a series of scars that spelled out the word “Sloth”. The sleeves of his blue shirt were rolled to his elbows, and she could see the numerous tattoos he had on his forearms. She wasn’t going to lie to herself, visually speaking, the man was attractive.

“Joseph said he encountered a blunt traveler yesterday. Seems I’ve had the luck to run into you, now, as well,” his voice was smooth as he spoke. To Rose, he sounded like he could have been a lawyer at some point.

“Joseph?” Rose focused on the name. So that must have been the man she’d listened to yesterday. The name fit him, honestly.

“My brother, the Father.” The man in front of her specified the person he was talking about, though it did little to help Rose. He stepped back, letting Rose get her footing back. “My name is John.”

“Your brother’s a preacher, and you’re a baptist?” Rose hadn’t originally intended to ask this aloud, but once she realized she’d said it, it was too late.

“You could say that.”

“Well, that’s certainly interesting. Good for you two. But, before you try to offer anything, I’m not interested. Like I told your brother, you can believe what you want, but personally, I don’t believe God exists, and you’ll have a hell of a time trying to change my mind.” Rose’s words were blunt, to say the least. They weren’t as bitter as they had been when she’d spoken to Joseph, but they certainly didn’t leave much room for argument. The small woman gathered her things and started to walk back towards her cabin.

“Could I at least know your name?” John called after her, not bothering to mention her blunt words.

“What would you give to your lover on Valentine’s?” Of course she wasn’t going to give him a straight answer. For Rose, that just wasn’t how she rolled.

John stood in silence for a second, almost seeming surprised at the woman’s response. Most would have just given him a name, but this woman was clearly different. He thought for a second, before calling after her, putting the pieces together, “Rose?”

Rose gave a soft laugh, looking over her shoulder at the man. “You’re a smart one, John.” With that, she turned back, heading to her cabin to prepare the fish she’d caught.

Dinner and the rest of the evening went by without much to speak of. Rose was glad that there were a handful of magazines that held information on how to prepare a fresh catch, because in that department, she’d been clueless. It had taken her time, but in the end, she’d had a good dinner for the first time in weeks. As she lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling of the cabin, all Rose could think of was John and Joseph. The baptist and preacher brothers who probably worked together. Joseph’s words from the previous day still echoed in her head, but she shook them away. There wasn’t any such thing as God, and even if there was, she sure as hell wouldn’t be in good standing with them. As sleep finally started to take her, the last thing she could think about were John’s tattoos, and his eyes, and the scars across his chest.

Taglist: @deputyoneill @johnseedthot @deputyshitlordsantana @jacobsmusicbox @farcrying5 @johnseedsplane @rookieseed

#fc5 fanfic #far cry 5 #john seed #earl whitehorse #oc: rose carter #shot at redemption #SaR

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protectorsofthewood · 5 years ago

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Abby and Wendy - Episode 36

AN UNUSUAL MEETING

Lluvia slowly steered the canoe toward the right bank. A wide view of Evansville opened up before their eyes. The river seemed to grow and spread out, creating space for many docks lining the shoreline. The tall buildings were all on the left side. On the right-hand side a long finger of parkland extended along the shoreline all the way from Half Moon. The Evansville College of Arts and Sciences was nestled among tall trees like a town of mostly low buildings. Beyond the college, Riverside Boulevard ran all the way to River City.

Docks owned by the Parks Department and the College clustered together, creating a marina of boats, all quite small by ocean standards. The depth of the river was only about 5 to 8 feet, and varied radically with rainfall and the tide. No large yachts or ferryboats could safely navigate the river until the Maywood River joined the Half Moon a few miles downstream. At that point the river became wider, deeper, and crowded in a more urban landscape, climaxing at the great metropolis of River City.

Lluvia maneuvered the canoe along crowded docks to a separate, spacious area owned by the college. They tied the boat to cleats in the wooden platform and a young man in a college tee shirt gave them a hand up. Lluvia told him their business and departure time Sunday morning. He wanted student identification, and for a moment they were stuck, unsure what to do.

Then they heard Abby’s name called, and Sara came rushing up the dock. She was obviously nervous and impatient. “Where have you been?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Phoebe answered. “An emergency, and my phone is gone. None of us have a phone. I’ll tell you more later.”

“Hi Bill,” Sara greeted the dock attendant. “They’re all with me, meeting in the energy building with Professor Richardson. He’ll approve it.”

“We picked up a stray boat,” Lluvia said. “It was floating free a mile upriver. Can you look for an owner?”

In a moment the three visitors and Sara were hurrying across a wide pathway onto the college campus. Old buildings, generally only two stories, were spread out among trees and lawns, and connected by flagstone paths. Abby had never seen anything like it. Wisteria grew up old stonewalls, and discreet signs were posted to guide visitors. The scene was calm and lovely in the early evening shadows. But Sara led them at a furious pace. Phoebe lagged behind, pulling her right leg stiffly forward.

Abby checked her timer. “Hey Sara,” she called. “It’s only 6:30.”

“We’ve reserved the private meeting room starting at six. Ricardo Richardson and a grad student and Freddy Baez are there already. We’ve made a dinner reservation for seven o’clock. This is a big deal. And we’re running out of time.” She’s the organizer, the mover and shaker,Abby told herself. Just follow along.

They practically ran through a maze of buildings where students walked in and out of dormitories and gathered in groups on the lawn. Cars full of arriving students and their luggage jammed the courtyard. Finally, Sara led the group to a modern one-story building with a picture window, glass doors, and wings built out from both sides. A limestone porch with benches and potted gardenias surrounded the main entrance. An elegant bronze sign read, ‘Energy in the Age of Climate Change’.

Groups on the benches said hello to Sara and stared as they hurried by, practically running down a carpeted hallway to wooden double doors. A quiet living room spread out before them. Lamps on poles, couches and easy chairs, bookshelves, paintings, and a sideboard of refreshments were scattered around a wide area. Three men stood to greet them.

Sara took charge. “Professor Richardson, Evansville Record editor Freddy Baez, and assistant professor Henry Tims, this is Abby, Phoebe, and…” Sara waited for the name.

“Lluvia,” Abby told them. They shook hands.

“Call me Ricardo, please. We’re here to talk as equals. Can I get you some coffee, wine, tea, club soda?” The visitors asked for coffee, and Ricardo served them himself.

Freddy showed them to a long couch with a coffee table, and looked at his watch. “Can we delay dinner half an hour at least?” he asked Ricardo. “We need the time.”

“Henry, see if they can give us until 7:30. Tell them we apologize, but it’s important.”

Ricardo Richardson, the host and head of the department, wore a dark tailored suit and a pale blue tie. He was tall and lean, in his forties, brown skinned, with black hair cut very short. A gold ring with a small blue stone glowed on his right ring finger. Freddy Baez did not seem to be concerned about his appearance. He looked just the same to Abby as he had appeared in Reverend Tuck’s office: balding, in his fifties, needing a haircut around the ears, a bit overweight, wearing a shabby pale suit with no tie. He sipped his wine and glanced around impatiently.

Henry Tims looked maybe 25 or 26 years old, very young for an assistant professor. He was short and light skinned, with wispy blond hair falling over his forehead, and a vulnerable baby face free of wrinkles. His jeans and pinstriped shirt were clean and ironed, giving him a bit of formality.

“Yes, right away,” he said, and hurried out the door.

Abby and Phoebe were struggling to keep their eyes off the blue stone in Ricardo’s ring. It’s dreamstone, its dreamstone!Their thoughts were buzzing, and they met each other’s eyes with a look of elated recognition. Here’s someone on our side, they thought. Abby glanced at Lluvia and noticed her wide-eyed look. She knows.

Sara retreated to a corner of the room and made a quick phone call. She wore her usual uniform: STAFF tee shirt, jeans, and wide red headband. “Amy will be here in a minute,” she told them.

“Ah! Excellent.” Ricardo gave a sigh of relief. “Let me give all of you a chance to drink your coffee and relax.” He spoke slowly and gently, with the hint of a Spanish accent. “I want you to know how grateful we are to see you here on our home turf. It’s a tremendous favor. I know you’ve overcome obstacles to be here… you folks are under a microscope these days. But now we have a chance to put our minds together in hopes of a better future. This is a moment blessed by fate.”

Henry returned, nodded to Ricardo, and pulled up a chair.

“We’re just getting started,” his professor told him. He was silent for a minute as the young women drank coffee.

Well, well…thought Abby. Quite an introduction. She was determined to play her role with all the concentration at her command, and bring in Phoebe and Lluvia to offer all those things that she could not.

The door suddenly opened and Amy Zhi walked into the room. Sara hugged her, and introduced her to Lluvia and Phoebe. Amy waved to all and sat in an upholstered armchair to the side of the couch. Henry hurried to get her a cup of coffee.

The professor met everyone’s eyes and began: “I think we’ve all done a good job of arranging this off-the-record meeting, and I think we can count on each other’s confidentiality.”

They nodded.

“Please bear with me while I give a brief description of our situation. We’ll be discussing renewable energy developments that are still in an early, fragile stage, but are becoming too prominent to ignore. As you know, tomorrow the Evansville Board of Trustees will be responding to our student/faculty declaration of climate change commitments. I realize that this document is technically open to change and negotiation. But most of us, including the trustees, are aware that we are drawing a red line, a firm position that we intend to implement with all the influence we can find.”

He paused and drank from a glass of wine. “Okay, now here’s some news. We’ve obtained through the grapevine a summary of the trustees’ response. They will point out that not only our college, but also our city and state, are nowhere near ready to achieve %100 renewable energy. Therefore they – the trustees – will not promise to withdraw all fossil fuel related investments. They will say we are decades, thirty years at a minimum, from banishing fossil fuels from our economy. Therefore, they must continue to invest in enterprises that are currently essential to the welfare of our population, such as fossil fuel heat, transportation, electricity, fertilizer, plastic, and so on. We know that this argument is shared by many of the powers that be in our world, and could have merit, except that over the past thirty years they have done nothing except continue business as usual. And the business interests that the trustees represent have no wish to change, and are ignoring the perilous consequences of delay.”

“Hurry it along, Ricardo!” interrupted Freddy Baez. “We’re from the news business, we’re used to rushing. And in twenty minutes we’re supposed to be eating dinner.”

“I understand, Freddy. But tonight, I don’t care if all the food is overcooked or stone cold. I’ve been waiting a long time for this day. Everyone will get a chance to say their piece.”

He took another swallow of wine. “In maybe ten years, with supporting policies like an escalating carbon taxes, regulations, and investments into solar and wind projects, electricity could be just about 90% renewable. But as we know all too well, our state and nation and most of the globe, do not have the political will to achieve anything drastic at the moment. We don’t have the batteries yet to store enough energy to get through days with no wind and winters with little sun. Without the invention of better batteries, generators will need to continue using natural gas at least part of the time. We don’t have the grid, the heating and cooking equipment, the cars and jet fuel and household appliances to move to 100% renewable, even with a carbon tax and enormous subsidies. And for all those places off the grid the situation is hopeless. Propane tanks populate the countryside like mushrooms. And world-wide, that adds up to an insurmountable problem…except for one thing. The problems look different if you include biogas.

Ricardo looked around the room. “That’s what we need to discuss tonight. We know that all organic material can produce biogas, mostly methane. We know that landfilled organic material gives off methane into the atmosphere where it becomes a greenhouse gas. We know that landfilling organic material is expensive. We know that biogas is much more environmentally friendly than burning wood and related materials. We know waste organic material can be collected from a village or a city or a farm. We know the production of biogas can be a local enterprise or a colossal industry. We know that fracking can be banned as soon as we have better batteries for electrical storage and biogas for furnaces, stoves, and generators. Millions of families already use it all over the world. And tonight, we need to talk about the little-known fact that biogas is used by thousands of households right here in the Half Moon Valley. How did this happen, given the political and business support for fossil fuels? Why can’t we study and discuss it?”

The participants looked at each other, but no one answered. Ricardo waited, and then went on: “We’ve discovered that one of our trustees, Herbert Irving, is alarmed that his Valley Fuels distribution network is losing customers. He’s already investigating the production of biogas by our Parks Department. We know he will convince the governor and his allies to close down that operation unless they meet very strong resistance. We know that Rivergate is already 100% renewable, and Half Moon maybe 50% renewable, and Middletown is rapidly getting into the act. Why can’t we replicate this process? Why can’t we argue that with intelligent biogas production – by intelligent, I mean refusing to grow crops for biofuels on land suitable for food crops, refusing to cut down forests… in other words, producing biogas only from waste, organic garbage, wood that is already being chipped by the Parks Department as a matter of ordinary maintenance, grasses grown on land with soil too poor for human food… Why can’t we study, publicize, and argue for intelligent biogas production?”

He looked at his watch. “Thank you for your patience. The ball is in your court.”

“We’ve got a problem among the students,” Sara replied. “They’re all fired up about Abby’s interview, the mysteries surrounding Middletown, the gender and spiritual issues… but… it seems that they don’t understand biogas very well. It’s not clean and pure like solar and wind. It burns and gives off carbon dioxide, just like fracked gas.”

“Mmmm…” Ricardo smiled. “Tell them the squirrels and the dogs and humans give off carbon dioxide. The tree that falls in the forest and turns into compost gives off carbon dioxide. Cow manure gives off carbon dioxide. But the fracked gas didn’t have to give off itscarbon dioxide. It’s been safely underground for millions of years, and could have stayed there, if we didn’t mine it and burn it. We’re adding carbon to the life cycle, carbon that has been sequestered for eons. That’s the problem. We should stick to our basic talking points: KEEP IT IN THE GROUND. BAN FOSSIL FUELS. And by the way, the organic material that produces biogas has a desirable byproduct: solid compost, pure and ready to use as fertilizer. It’s far better to make biogas out of organic material than to burn it.”

“It seems to me,” Sara retorted, “that you should get those professors in first year earth science to do a better job. The facts seem self-evident to you, but not to most other people.”

“Good point. Yes, a better education is essential. But that will take time, a year at a minimum. We need to act over the next couple of months.”

Freddy Baez leaned forward. “I’m sorry to say this, but you’re all on the wrong track. Sure, improve education, explain the issues, argue your case. But we’ve got hot news here, very hot. That interview with Abby… it’s gone around the world. The attention of the public is at a peak I’ve rarely seen. This wave of interest must be fed, or it will break and disappear. News items are stories. What story should we tell? I ask you, Abby… what story would you recommend?”

She had been waiting for this moment. Her mind was well prepared, the words on the tip of her tongue. “I agree we have to move fast. This public attention you’re talking about… it also includes the wrong kind of attention. It alerts our enemies, and they investigate and create their own story. That’s natural. They’re threatened. This Herbert Irving you mentioned who runs Valley Fuels, he’s losing money. Large parts of this whole system will lose wealth and power, and strike back. And fossil fuels are a cultural as well as an economic problem. The self-esteem of part of our population seems to be married to fossil fuels. If we don’t get our story out there in a powerful way, we’ll be crushed.”

#ecofiction #Environmentalism #teenagers #green energy #live music #climate change is REAL

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