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toomanystoriessolittletime · 3 years

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Yes, Mr. Moreno

Summary: With Missy moving out of the house to go to college Marcus felt more alone than ever before. When he met his daughters college roommate at a diner in the middle of the night he made a decision Missy could never find out about.

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x Alice Baker (OFC)

Wordcount: 1.4k

Warnings: angst, big age gap (20ish years; legal though), some sexual tension, a little dirty talk

A/N: I'd like to thank @ladyreapermc for letting me steal her idea. Marcus is probably a little OOC in this but I don't really care. More to come in the future. This is my entry for this weeks Writer Wednesday @autumnleaves1991-blog & @clydesducktape

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Looking the clock Marcus sighed. Just after 2 am.

He was hungry.

Pancakes technically could be early breakfast. Or a very late Dinner. He sighed again, letting his eyes wander through the almost empty diner.

He was getting too old for this.

Too old for emergencies from outer space.

Too old for still having to pick up the slack because the Heroics couldn’t find a new leader.

Too old to be sitting alone in a diner in the middle of the night.

Marcus was lonely, he knew that.

He looked down at his hand, to his finger were all these years ago a wedding band was his most trusted possession. He had taken it off a long time ago, yet he still felt married in his mind. He probably always would, even though it had now almost been 15 years since his wife died.

With Missy being gone for college, even though it was in the same city, his house felt empty with his daughter living on the campus. And he was happy for her, but on nights like these he wished she would still be his little girl who sneaked into his bed on Sunday morning to cuddle, just to fall asleep again.

“What can I get you?” he looked up, looking into the tired face of Marissa. She had been working here for as long as he could remember.

“Usual. Maybe some strawberries if you have some,” he nodded, forcing himself to smile at least a little bit. The eyes of the older woman frowned slightly and he could see the questions forming in her mind.

“Of course honey,” she said softly instead before she turned around to give his order to the kitchen.

After the food he would go home, take a long hot shower and then get to bed, not leaving it until he had go back to work in two days. Missy would be gone by now, a weekend trip with her boyfriend. He still shuddered thinking about Missy, his little girl, dating. He liked Josh, he really did. But fuck the thought of his daughter dating just made him realize how much time had gone by since his wife died. Missy had been so nervous before her first date with Josh, telling Marcus all about it who, against his urge to lock her into her old bedroom, had told her that feeling nervous was totally normal before a date. Hell, even years after he had married her mom he had been still nervous every time they had date night. He missed this. Having someone to go on a date with.

Marcus was no saint. Of course there had been some women in the last years, but none of them interesting enough to maybe build something more. He was getting old and lonely. And miserable.

God you’re pathetic Moreno, he groaned inwardly.

Someone sat down two seats next to him. He nodded his head without really looking as he waited for his food.

“Mr. Moreno?” a woman asked. Please, please don’t be a fan. He breathed in deep before he turned his head. He frowned a little, trying to remember where he had seen the young woman before. She smiled tiredly, a little shy at him. Her long dark hair in a high ponytail that looked a little loose, her green eyes blinking as if she had to fight the urge to hold them open.

“Alice?” he asked, she nodded. Missy’s roommate. That’s where he knew her from.

“What are you doing here this late?” he asked, she sighed, rubbing her eyes.

“Just got off my… second job? I work at the bar just down the road.”

“Second job?” he asked. She nodded, her hands disappearing in her big hoodie.

“Gotta get through college somehow. And with no scholarship and no parents I have to pick up extra shifts,” she answered before she turned to order herself something.

He had only met her a couple times. When he helped Missy move in, once or twice when he picked her up for Sunday dinner, which they still had every single week. Alice was a beautiful young woman. And if what Missy was telling him was still correct, a good friend of his daughter too. She looked at him again.

“And what are you doing here this late, Mr. Moreno?” she asked, turning in her seat so she was facing him. She crossed her legs as she leaned back in her seat. And Marcus found himself thinking that even in some old jeans and a hoodie at least three sizes too big for her, she was looking more beautiful than he was allowed to be even thinking about it.

Get a grip Moreno.

“Mr. Moreno?” she asked and Marcus blinked.

“Sorry. There was an emergency at HQ and I only got out an hour ago.”

She nodded.

“And you thought you had some late dinner before going back home?” she asked with a little smile.

“Early breakfast,” he winked and she laughed tiredly, her whole face lighting up.

Half an hour later Marcus had changed to sit in the seat next to Alice as they talked. He learned that she moved here from across the country after getting into the programme she had applied for, not really thinking she would get it. He learned that all she had as family was her mother she hadn’t talked to in almost 4 years, that she loved watching old movies and that she hoped to one day live in a little house at a beach. Any beach. Just close to the ocean.

And Marcus found out that the way she said Mr. Moreno every time she addressed him was making it hard for him to think clearly.

“You know it’s kind of surreal sitting here with you,” she said.

He raised his eyebrow.

“Why is that?” he asked, his head resting on his hand. She smiled shyly, sucking her bottom lip in. God fucking…

“Because growing up I used to have the biggest crush on you,” she admitted and Marcus groaned inwardly.

“Really? Me? When there were all these other Hero’s around?” he asked.

“Yeah. Even had a poster of you in my bedroom,” she shook her head, smiling to herself.

“That’s kinda cute,” he found himself saying and she looked at him. Her eyes big, her lips slightly parted.

Marcus was fighting a battle inside of him he knew he would lose. She was young. 22 years old, he learned that while they talked. She was Missy’s friend, still in college, yet all he could think about was how it would sound if she was moaning his name while he had her pinned against the mattress of his king sized bed while he made her cum undone on his tongue.

“Mr. Moreno…” she whispered and Marcus cocked his head to the side as he kept looking at her. He saw her eyes focusing on his lips before she looked into his eyes again.

“Alice…” he breathed leaning in closer, inhaling her scent.

“Yes, Mr. Moreno?” she whispered and this time he felt his cock twitch.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“I… I kissed boys before, but there was no one I really… That I really wanted…”

“To fuck?” he said and she blushed, nodding shyly.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Marissa walking towards them and he slid his credit card over the counter.

“All on me, and give yourself a generous tip,” he said and she nodded at him. He waited until the bill was paid, sliding his credit card back into his pocket, when he looked at Alice again.

This was a bad idea. Probably the worst he had ever had. But he felt it. The fluttering of nerves inside of him, he hadn’t felt in years every time he looked at Alice. Missy could never find out about this. He had to make sure of it. He got off his seat, straightening his shirt.

“Do you want to come home with me?” he asked her. He saw her swallow before she got out of her seat, sucking that damn bottom lip in again with a small smile.

“Yes, Mr. Moreno.”

#my writing #writer wednesday #marcus moreno #marcus moreno x ofc #pedro pascal #fanfic #fanfiction #fan fiction

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helloalycia · 3 years

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worth the wait [three] // daisy johnson

summary: when you're out chasing a story that leads you to the unanticipated hands of HYDRA, you certainly don't expect to be rescued by a girl you presumed dead for nine years.

warning/s: descriptions of violence, torture, injuries.

author’s note: here’s the next part, hope you all like it!

Nine years later...

"I'm meeting with my contact now. He said he knows something about the weapons."

"Okay, just make sure you're safe, Y/N."

I smiled with amusement. "I always am, Taylor. I think this could be the source to break the story though. I'm gonna try and get them to speak on the record."

"Just be careful," he warned.

"Will do," I promised, before checking my watch for the time. "Okay, I gotta go. See ya."

"Good luck," he finished, and I hung up before putting my phone away.

Looking around, I saw the village was quiet seeing as it was pretty late and everyone was in their homes. It was the perfect place to meet with a source for my story on human trafficking.

I headed down the street and waited outside the apartment building for my source. I had no idea what he looked like, but nobody else would be out this late into the night, so he couldn't be hard to spot.

A few minutes passed before I saw a guy approaching me, holding some files in his hands. I straightened up and held his gaze as he stopped before me. He glanced around before looking me up and down.

"You are Y/N?" he asked with a Burmese accent.

I nodded, speaking fluent Burmese as I said, "Yes. You must be Ohnmar? We can speak Burmese if you prefer."

"Okay. We talked earlier, but it wasn't safe then. I have information on the missing residents," he answered in Burmese, before shaking the files. "It's all in here, but you mustn't open it until you get home."

I accepted the files and nodded, though was mildly confused. "Is it about the labour they're doing? I have a theory, but I have no proof. I... I think it might be HYDRA."

He pursed his lips and I figured he was confirming my thoughts, which concerned me.

"I'm right," I realised, before moving to open the file. "I need to–"

"You should've stayed away," he suddenly said in English, and I looked up in confusion.

Before I could question him, he pulled a gun from behind him and hit me on the head, knocking me to the ground. I tried to blink my eyes open, but my vision was blurred and I eventually blacked out, unable to stay awake any longer.

I woke up in a dark room with an aching head and confused mind. It took a moment for me to catch myself up, but I soon realised I'd been tricked by my contact. I was so easily fooled and I felt stupid as I hadn't seen it coming, instead too blindsided by my need for information.

Looking around, I realised I was tied to a chair. The only light in the room was from a single electric lamp plugged in the corner, shedding light on the damaged walls and, to my dismay, a HYRDA logo.

"Well, fuck," I mumbled, before shaking my wrists to try and get free, but they were tied pretty tightly with rope, making me shift uncomfortably at the chafing.

Panic started to set in when the door slammed open in front of me, flooding the room with light and making me close my eyes with discomfort. I heard another slam and opened my eyes when I saw the door closed behind whoever entered.

Two people were in the room and one of them turned the lamp, shining it in my direction and also revealing my assailants' faces. One of them was Ohnmar, my contact, which I guess wasn't his real name. The other wasn't anybody I recognised, and they were both wearing uniforms with the HYDRA logo on the pocket.

"I wouldn't try to escape if I were you," the fake Ohnmar said.

I clicked my tongue and looked between the both of them. "I'm guessing I got a little too close to the truth which is why I'm here. Right?"

"You've been putting your nose in where it doesn't belong," the other guy said. "Did you really think you would get away with this? That we'd let you write about this?!"

I flinched at his loud volume before clearing my throat. "I didn't think I needed your permission. And in case you didn't notice, it's my job to report on this."

Fake Ohnmar scoffed. "We don't care what your job is. Now tell us what you know and what you've told your superiors back home."

I narrowed my eyes. "Do you really think this is the first time I've been captured? I've spent nine months in this village. If you think I'm going to throw that away for you, you better think again."

Fake Ohnmar's friend cracked his neck, pacing with discomfort, before pulling out a gun. I chewed on the inside of my mouth, nerves settling as I tried not to show it.

"We have someone going through your electronics as we speak," he told me, gripping his gun. "Your superiors will get their updates as expected, but you won't be giving them."

"Look, you're gonna kill me whether I tell you or no–"

I was cut off when he smacked me across the face with his gun, making me see stars momentarily. I felt something warm gush from my nose and realised I was bleeding.

"You have no idea who you're dealing with," he muttered, his face inches from my face as he stared me down threateningly. "Now tell us what you know of the missing villagers."

I wiped my nose on my shirt the best I could and chose not to speak. They couldn't do much without knowing what I knew. Everything I'd learnt had been sent back home to the news organisation I worked for, and if I didn't get back to them or call them, they'd know what happened.

"Two things I despise," he mumbled with irritation. "Journalists and Americans." He waved to his friend dismissively. "She won't talk. You know what to do."

Fake Ohnmar nodded obediently before suddenly punching me in the face, once again, leaving me dazed. This went on for a while, him beating me up as an attempt at torture, before the two of them left me alone to 'think about' if I wanted to tell them.

I had been in this situation, surprisingly, two times before in my journalistic career. Both times I was able to get out either by escaping myself or managing to get found by the authorities. Of course, in this case, the latter seemed impossible, so my only hope was escaping myself.

I looked around, but realised I was in too much pain to hatch a plan right now. They'd done a good job on me, and I was sure my ribs were bruised pretty badly. Honestly, I didn't expect nine months of investigative journalism in Myanmar to lead to HYDRA of all places.

—

"You've beat me, starved me..." I coughed because of how dry my throat was. "I'm not talking."

Fake Ohnmar placed something rectangular on the table in front of me. I realised it was my laptop – they must have taken it from where I'd left it in the room I'd been renting downtown.

"You're clever, I'll give you that," he said, crossing his arms and shaking his gun impatiently. "Where did you learn such complicated encryptions?"

I couldn't help but smile when I knew he couldn't get into my laptop. At least not the parts that exposed what I'd learnt so far.

"You do what I do and you learn from past mistakes," I told him, making him clench his jaw.

It wasn't much, probably the only trick in the book I knew as I wasn't exactly an expert with computers. Clearly it was benefiting me today though.

He slammed his hand on the table suddenly, making me jump. "Tell me the password, now!"

I licked my dry lips, choosing to stay quiet. I began to wonder just how advanced these guys were if they couldn't even afford to get a hacker to break through.

"So it's gonna be like that," he said with a shrug, before pointing his gun at my face.

He flicked off the safety and I closed my eyes as calmly as I could, already saying my goodbyes in my head. A few days in a HYDRA cell was like weeks anywhere else. I'd accepted my fate.

I expected the shot to go off any minute now, wondering what things would be like afterwards. Would it hurt? Would it be an instant death?

I certainly didn't expect my left ear to be ringing as an excruciating pain shot up my neck from my shoulder. My eyes opened and I tried to breathe through the pain whilst hoping my ear would stop ringing. The man began to laugh, but I couldn't hear him, only see his evil smile.

When I looked down, I saw blood seeping from a bullet wound in my left shoulder. Despite my experience in this profession, I can't say I'd ever been shot before. It certainly hurt a lot more than I'd imagined.

"You talk and I get you patched up," he said when my hearing returned to normal. I looked up and saw him watching me with narrowed eyes. "You stay quiet and we see how long it takes for you to bleed out."

I swallowed hard, squeezing my eyes shut to contain the pain, before opening them again.

"You're gonna move operations," I realised aloud. "You want to know whether you can. Because if I've told them about you, you know you can't stay here much longer. And if I haven't, you just get rid of me."

He squeezed his gun with irritation, watching as I spoke the truth.

"But either way I die," I repeated. "So why the hell would I want the last thing I do be to help you?"

He grabbed the laptop before kicking the table away with anger. "Call when you feel like talking. We can make your death quick and painless or long and painful."

I smiled bitterly as I watched him leave the room, slamming the door behind him. I released a deep breath as I looked down at my shoulder, trying to make out the damage. I didn't know much about first aid, but I was pretty sure there was no exit wound meaning the bullet was still in there. That was good, right? Or wasn't it...? I couldn't remember. I just knew it hurt like hell.

—

Hours had passed and I began to hallucinate. Silly things like cheeseburgers and dancing water bottles – lack of food and drink, the blood loss and the heat was making my head spin. I wasn't sure if this was where I wanted to die – in a small, dirty, hot room by myself. Was it worth it? Dying over a news story?

Of course it was. I pursued this story after some social media posts about disappearing villagers in Myanmar. I stayed here nine months with each day leading me closer and closer to the supposed human trafficking that was going on. I got to where I was because I wanted to get justice for those who suffered and stop anyone else from suffering. Yet the only people who knew were my editors back home, and I wasn't sure they'd ever know the full truth.

It was better than helping the enemy though.

Just when I thought cheeseburgers were the worst of my delusions, I saw a face I hadn't thought about in a long time. A person who I least expected my mind to drag up in a time like this.

The door opened and I was sure I was going to be questioned again, but in ran none other than Skye. The same Skye who had ran away all those years ago and wasn't to be found.

She looked a little older with her shorter hair, but otherwise she was just as I remembered.

"Hey, I'm gonna get you out of h– Y/N?" she started, before furrowing her eyebrows with confusion.

She even sounded the same, and if I could feel anything at that moment, I'm sure I would've felt my heart beating quickly at the sight of her.

"Can you hear me?"

I began to laugh with what little energy I had left. Is this what it was like to die? Seeing things that you'd pushed down for so long to stop your heart from hurting? It was strange. Why was my mind playing with me like this?

"Y/N, look at me, can you hear me?!" she asked quickly, grabbing my face and forcing me to meet her eyes.

I continued to laugh because it all felt so real. Her touch, her voice, her eyes that peered into me. I wished it was because maybe after all of these years I could have made things right.

—

"Miss, can you hear me? Y/N?"

I blinked the tiredness from my eyes and opened them, trying to remember what was happening. But I was confused and my body was numb and nothing made sense.

"Y/N, sweetie, can you hear me?"

I turned my head, realising I was laying in a bed. There was a woman beside my bed – a doctor, I presumed – staring down at me with a friendly smile on her face. I nodded slowly, my mouth dry.

I couldn't remember getting out of that cell, being rescued. Unless I wasn't rescued and this was still a trap.

At this thought, I widened my eyes and tried to move, panic setting in, but I was attached to a bunch of tubes and my body was still numb.

"Hey, it's okay, you're okay," the doctor tried to reassure, resting her hands on my arm, trying to keep me still. "You're safe here. You're on a S.H.I.E.L.D. quinjet. That's like a plane...? We got you out of that HYDRA cell and I've bandaged your wounds. You don't need to be afraid anymore."

I wasn't sure whether to believe her, but something about the way she spoke and the kindness in her eyes made me relax.

"My name is Agent Simmons," she introduced as she grabbed something from beside me, "but you can call me Jemma."

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. On cue, she held a glass of water towards me and helped me sit up enough to have some from the straw. It felt good to have actual water in my system after not being given anything the past two days.

"Not too quickly," she said gently. "Take your time."

I listened to her before laying back down. It took a few tries, but I managed to get out, "Thank you, Jemma. I'm Y/N."

"Y/N Y/L/N, investigative journalist for the New York Times," she stated before an apologetic expression crossed her face. "Sorry. Facial recognition an' all... I hope that doesn't freak you out."

I sighed, not the slightest bit surprised. I knew enough about S.H.I.E.L.D. to know they had the resources to know exactly who I was.

"I don't remember you getting me," I said with confusion. "How did you I know I was there?"

Jemma took a seat on the stool beside my bed. "Well, technically it was Quake who got you out. We had reports of HYDRA activity in that area for a while and we knew an American journalist had been taken, but we didn't know it was you."

I nodded, though I was still confused. "Who's Quake?"

Jemma chuckled, thinking I was joking. But when I met her eyes with confused ones, she lost her smile.

"You're serious? You don't know who Quake is?"

I shook my head. "I've been in Myanmar for nine months, and not in the most advanced areas. I haven't had much access to American news."

"Seriously?" she asked with disbelief, before putting her arms out and shaking them. "Earthquake-causing, vibration-manipulating, tremor-shaking superhero Quake?"

I raised an eyebrow judgementally, making Jemma lower her arms sheepishly.

"Oh, well, she's a hero that works for S.H.I.E.L.D.," she explained.

I nodded slowly, deciding that was something to ask more about later on. For now, I was more concerned about my story.

"You said S.H.I.E.L.D. had been watching that area for a while," I recalled. "Does that mean you found out what happened to the missing villagers? I got as far as working out HYDRA had been using them for some sort of forced labour, but never beyond that."

Jemma got up from her stool and busied herself with other things. "I, er, that's actually classified...? You see, it's not good if we tell you, especially as you're a journalist..."

"But it's my story," I countered with annoyance. "I've been trying to work this out for almost a year. I deserve to know the outcome. Did you save those villagers? Were they all alive? Did the local authorities know?"

Jemma seemed to be getting uncomfortable the more questions I asked and I forced myself to sit up, groaning at the ache in my shoulder.

"You can't hide this from me," I told her. "Please, just tell me."

She grimaced. "It's not my place. I'm not in charge–"

"Then tell me who is!" I shouted with frustration, before taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I just– I've put a lot of work into this and it can't just be taken away. I need to know what happened."

She nodded, avoiding my eyes for fear I'd get angry again. "Look, I can talk to my superiors and find out what I can say. For now, you should really be resting."

I leaned back and breathed out slowly, already feeling my fatigue catching up to me.

"Okay," I said quietly, before asking, "You said we were on a plane. Where are we going?"

"That's actually classified as well," she said regretfully, making me sigh. "We're going to our headquarters. But after that, we'll be taking you home or wherever you want us to take you."

At the mention of home, I grew hopeful. It had been so long since I'd been back. I wasn't exactly in the right state to be living by myself, so I was glad that I had made the choice to leave my flat and move in with my parents before leaving for Myanmar. Plus, I had missed them dearly. To be back there was almost unimaginable.

"Can I ring my parents?" I asked hopefully. "Just to let them know I'm okay? And that I'm coming soon?"

Jemma nodded, offering a small smile. "Of course, Y/N. I'll go grab you a phone."

She left the room momentarily and I took that as my chance to get a good look around. It looked like a hospital room you'd find anywhere, except without windows and with card-activated doors that had tiny glass windows showing a narrow hallway. I didn't get to look around for too long as Jemma returned pretty quickly, handing me (what looked like) a normal mobile phone.

"I'll give you a moment of privacy, but please only call your parents," Jemma warned as politely as she could.

I cracked a small smile. "What – are you guys tracking the phone or something?"

She chewed on her lower lip as she looked down, making my smile fade as I realised that's exactly what they were doing. I wasn't surprised, I guess.

"Right, okay, no other calls, got it," I agreed with a nod.

She left me to it as I dialled my mum's mobile number and eventually spoke to both her and my dad. It was emotional to say the least, as I tried not to worry them too much without withholding the truth. They knew when I was lying so it was better to just be honest. Of course, they were happy to have me stay at theirs until I was back on my feet and the call ended with my mum scolding me for not resting as the doctor recommended.

Finally succumbing to the tiredness I was feeling, I fell asleep for God knows how long, but when I woke up, I felt more refreshed. Similar to before, Jemma was in the room, checking some charts. She caught my eye when I woke up and smiled reassuringly.

"Feeling better?" she asked, setting down the chart and rounding the bed.

I nodded. "Yeah, thanks... how long was I asleep for?"

"About six hours," she guessed, waving her hand. "We've landed at S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ and our agents are debriefing. Once everything is sorted here, we can take you home to New York and arrange a driver to take you to wherever you want."

"My parents' house," I clarified.

She smiled and nodded. "Right. Your parents' house. How are you feeling?"

I tried to sit up and she helped me as I smiled gratefully in return.

"I'm not gonna lie, being shot hurts like a bitch," I admitted, grimacing as I glanced at my shoulder and arm in a sling.

"First time?"

"And hopefully the last," I retorted, before looking to her. "How long will this take to, y'know, get better?"

"Well, I'll need to keep you here for observation over the next few days," she explained. "When I'm happy with the outcome, I'll send you home and you'll need fortnightly checkups at the hospital. Overall I'd say a month? Maybe more if there's no... er... other issues."

"I know you mean PTSD," I told her bluntly, before frowning. "Doing what I do requires knowledge of that."

"There's going to be support available for you, both here and back home," Jemma reassured, resting a hand on mine and offering a small smile. "You're not alone, Y/N."

I nodded, clearing my throat. "I know... I know. Thanks."

She nodded and moved to the other side of the room to grab something, before wheeling a tray of food over to me.

"Hope you're hungry," she joked. "It's nothing fancy, but it's pretty good."

I smiled and accepted the food. "Means a lot, thanks."

I took a bite out of my sandwich as I remembered something. When I finished chewing, I wiped my face with the napkin before looking to Jemma who was at her desk.

"Er, Jemma," I called, making her look up. "Did you find out what happened to the villagers?"

She pursed her lips and nodded. "I've spoken to my superiors. I know you've been working on this and I'm only permitted to tell you so much."

I waited patiently, not wanting to snap at her like last time.

"The missing villagers were in fact taken by HYDRA, like you predicted," she explained. "They were forced into labour at a facility that was under the guise of a food warehouse."

"What was the labour?" I asked curiously.

She ran a hand through her hair. "I can't tell you much, but I can say that it was a nuclear weapon that could've hurt a lot of people. S.H.I.E.L.D. managed to stop it before they could finish it, which is when we found out that a journalist had been taken. That was when we came for you."

I released a deep breath, definitely not expecting that. At least they had been stopped.

"Did the missing people return to their families? Were they okay?" I asked hesitantly, remembering the many families I spoke to of the missing. I'd grown attached and I don't think I could have taken more bad news.

"Most of them, yes!" she exclaimed hopefully, but I could tell the following news wouldn't be good. "But not all of them were okay. There's some psychological damage and unfortunately physical damage, too. HYDRA did a number on them."

I massaged my head with my right hand, trying not to get upset, but the guilt in the pit of my stomach wasn't helping. I had one job, literally, and I couldn't even do it right.

"Y/N–"

"Do you have a list?" I asked, cutting her off. "A list of who made it?"

"Y/N, I don't think–"

"Please," I pleaded. "I spoke to the families of those who were missing. I got to know them. I need to know who's not getting their loved ones back."

She frowned, but nodded slowly. "I'm sure I can do something."

I sighed and my shoulders sunk with disappointment. Just another day on the job.

—

It had been a few days since being rescued by S.H.I.E.L.D. and I was itching to get home, but Jemma insisted I be observed for at least another day.

Under different circumstances, I would have been eager to explore the quinjet and get more information out of Jemma about her place of work, but I was too exhausted to care. Instead, I revelled in being taken care of and having a break from work.

I was laying in bed, reading a book, when Jemma walked in and caught my attention. I tried not to bother her as she was clearly working on other stuff, but it got pretty boring sitting in a room by yourself all day.

"Hey," I greeted with a smile, lowering my book.

"Hello," she returned as she took a seat at her desk, going on her computer. "You doing alright?"

"As alright as I can be, considering," I said, shrugging with my right shoulder. "Just a bit bored."

"The book not good?" she asked, nodding to my hand.

"I've read it," I admitted. "I just didn't wanna be a bother and ask for another one."

She chuckled. "You could have said something."

"It's okay," I assured her, before leaning back. "So, up to anything fun?"

She gave me a knowing look. "Are you seriously that bored?"

I nodded, pursing my lips, making her laugh. Eventually, she stared at me curiously.

"There's actually something I wanted to ask you," she admitted, crossing her arms and leaning back on her chair. "If you don't mind."

Wanting any distraction from my boredom, I nodded. "Go for it. I'm all ears."

"I've been reading some of your work," she shared. "You're really talented and you've been through your fair share of tough scrapes."

I chuckled. "I guess, yeah. And thank you. What's the question exactly?"

She looked at me like it was obvious. "What made you want to do this as a job? Investigative journalism?"

I played with the corner of the book as I answered thoughtfully, "Well, I guess I've always enjoyed writing and delving deep into stuff. The important stuff, y'know?" I looked down at my hands as I remembered Skye. "There was actually this girl I knew back in school. She was a friend and she, er... she was always wanting to find and expose truths. About herself, the world... I guess she kind of influenced me in a way."

I chewed on the inside of my mouth as I remembered my hallucination. Skye seemed to be coming up a lot more in my life lately, more than I was prepared for.

"I'm guessing she isn't with you anymore," Jemma realised, expression softening. "I'm sorry."

I forced a small smile, looking up and shaking my head reassuringly. "It's okay, it doesn't matter."

Jemma smiled in return, but I could see the pity present in her eyes. "I'm sure whoever she was, she'd be proud of you now. For everything you've done."

"Thank you, Jemma, but I... I'm not too sure about that."

"I am."

I froze at the sound of a familiar voice. Was I hallucinating again? No, that couldn't be. I was getting better. But that sounded so real...

"Proud of you, that is," the voice continued, and I risked looking towards the door where I saw none other than Skye standing there with a nervous smile on her lips.

When I met her gaze, I knew she wasn't a figment of my imagination. Those piercing brown eyes couldn't be fake.

"Hey," she got out, barely a whisper.

I licked my lips and tried to look away, but my heart was suddenly racing in my chest. She was just how I saw her last, but I guess that had been real now.

"I should give you guys a moment," Jemma said, pulling me from my reverie and making me look away.

She walked out, past Skye, leaving us both alone. I was still in shock though, too startled to say anything.

"How are you?" she asked gently, and I still couldn't believe I was hearing her voice after all these years. When I didn't say anything, she continued, "I know this is strange, but–"

"Strange?" I finally found my words, eyebrows raised. "What exactly is strange? The part where I'm sure I'm seeing a ghost right now as I you presumed you were dead after not being able to find you for years after you left, or the part where you've probably been at S.H.I.E.L.D. the whole time and didn't bother to tell me you were okay? Which part is strange exactly?"

She frowned guiltily, eyes falling to her shoes. "When I left–"

"Ran away," I corrected her, bitterness slashing through like a sharp knife, surprising the both of us.

She glanced at me, nodding. "Right... when I ran away, I left you a message."

I almost laughed, a sarcastic smile on my lips. "Don't even get me started on the excuse veiled as a message you left me. The cowardly way out you took because you couldn't face me."

She met my gaze nervously. "I didn't think you'd be this angry after all this time. It happened so long ago."

"Of course I'm angry!" I shouted with frustration, making me grimace at the pain in my shoulder, but I didn't stop. "You left without a single trace of Skye or Mary left behind! You left me with nothing but concern for your wellbeing! I thought you were dead!"

I hadn't realised how I angry I was after all this time, but it made sense. When she first left, I always imagined what I would say to her when I found her again, what our reunion would be like. But when the years went on and I accepted she was truly gone, all of that worry turned into bitterness and resentment. And now, seeing her here... I was furious.

"Y/N, I know you're upset, but–"

"Just get out," I told her with a glare. "I appreciate you saving me and all, but get out."

"Y/N," she pleaded, but I looked away and pressed the button on the side of my bed.

Jemma soon returned and looked between Skye and I with confusion and reluctance.

"Everything okay here?" she asked.

I looked up and met Skye's guilt-filled gaze. "My shoulder hurts."

Skye seemed to get the hint and nodded once more before finally leaving the room. I breathed out a shaky breath, before swallowing the lump in my throat and letting Jemma help me.

I couldn't believe she was back.

#daisy johnson x you #daisy johnson #daisy johnson imagine #daisy johnson x reader #marvel imagine #mcu imagine #mcu #marvel #chloe bennet #agents of shield imagine #agents of shield

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kim-ruzek · 2 years

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kara's twitter likes and old public facebook had a lot of tr*mper stuff like being anti vax and other gross stuff :/ you can find the receipts on a few posts here and on twitter

I have caught up now and I am so utterly disappointed and disgusted by her right now. Like I've had to take the whole day to process this (which is good because this ask only came in over an hour ago (well to my notifications, Tumblr can be dodgy so you may have sent it earlier) so one good thing came out of it).

I think the original ask asked how I felt about everything that has come out about her? And well, in short, I now very much want them to make Sylvie fuck off because as much as Sylvie the character deserves more, k*ra does not and I honestly don't know how I'm gonna look at her face.

I honestly truly thought whatever the thing was it would be something minor, like something that's icky but something I can live with (just that I'd loose respect for the actress) but I was really unprepared for this-- just seeing her views in those posts it just made me extremely sick. I mean I'd say I'm surprised, but while I'm shocked purely because I thought the actress was adorable and sweet (and therefore in my mind I immediately just think that obvs they're a decent human being), I can't really say I'm surprised because a white woman being like this? In some ways I'm always sorta waiting for that shoe to drop.

It's made me very conflicted too, because while I adore Sylvie and can tend to still like characters when their actors are problematic, there's usually a line and k*ra has crossed every single one. And I don't know where that leaves me with Sylvie, because rooting for her character makes me feel very dirty because rooting for her is rooting for a disgusting hateful person to succeed. And while I think I'll be able to appreciate Sylvie's character in fanfic after a while, I don't know how I'm going to cope with watching her. I just feel so dirty for liking and supporting her actress for this long, like it goes against all my morals and I didn't know yeah but it still so icky and how can such a horrible person play someone who to me is one of the most kind hearted and open and accepting people???

Sylvie is a character who I feel brings genuine heart to CF and makes everything feel more homely but oh my god if I'm not now wishing that they'd get rid of her.

So how I feel about this? Disgusted, disappointed, conflicted and wishing that k*ra would just fuck off from the show because she doesn't deserve to be employed, especially not billed so high up, and also amazed at how the rest of the cast (especially certain members) can stand being around her (and also kinda more understanding of the Joe drama about two casey starring cf ships)

Thank you for asking, and helping to bring this to my attention because I really do feel utterly horrified that I liked this actress. I'm going to have to think about if I now care about Sylvie's storyline from here on out or if it just really no longer is possible.

#ree's asks #doee this count as needing an anti tag before it? bc I'd hope not in one way bc surely no one in this fandom supports her views???#I'll put it anyway #anti kara killmer #chicago fire #on a side note (not a critism just a curiosity) it's interesting what people decide to list first when there's a lot of stuff problematic #bc i would've said the forced birth stuff and transphobia + racism first #it's just interesting how minds work #yet again not a criticism.#just me being way too sleep deprived and hopped up on lucazade

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marc-spectorr · 2 years

Note

heyyy hello to you too calliee!!💕

i apologise for not replying sooner, i reeeally wanted to but i have a pretty big exam coming up so today was a full day of studying, great way to spend a saturday🙄 so yeah we could say my weekend didn't start in the best way possible, but it's alright.

totally relate to the morning struggle to get out of bed ugh. WHY does it have to be soooo warm, soft and comfortable??! wish i could stay curled up in bed forever, it's so cozyy

and HOW DARE YOU kill me like that by announcing there may be a NEW FIC TOMORROW???!!!!! aaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA i'm sooo excited (tbh even if it ends up coming out in a week i'll be just as excited lol)

hope your saturday was just as fantastic as you and that you accomplished everything you planned to♡

yeah unfortunately no thirsty asks but can't wait to see their comeback, they're so fun and make me feel less alone about my strange, dirty thoughts lol🥵

love the nickname teddy btw, so cute and fluffy kajhshajajdjkkas🥺🧸💓

also loved <3 anon's idea of this blog being a little book club of Oscar Isaac stans, cause that's definitely the vibe, just coziness, comfort, love with just the right amount of smut🤭 (oh <3 anon, loads of love to you too, you're such a precious soul and seeing an ask from you again made me so so happyyy)

also THE COFFEE PICTURE!!! mmm HELLOOOO??? I'M NOT FEELING SO GOOD. his hands, THE HANDS DEAR LORD HAVE MERCY ON ME wkkahshsjsskhdhdj (so so glad to see I'm not the only one OBSESSING over people's hands, 🌻anon totally agree with what you said and I hope you're having a great day too <3)

last thing, umh HOW can i possibly choose just ONE of your fics to be my favourite??? no, you're asking me the impossible. ugh they are all so goooood callie, i can't😫 literally everything you write just takes me to a whole new dimension that i never wanna leave ugh. you are such a talented writer callie, for real🥺💕 but like IF my life depended on it, IF i had a gun to my head and i had to choose my favourite i'd probably say the morning after. it's the first fic of yours that i read and it made me follow you instantly, so yk it holds a special place in my heart. then i fell in love with all your other works and can't wait to fall even more with each story you create💞💞

as usual this came out a huge mess, just me blurting out every single thing that crosses my mind lmao

i hope you're having a great day/night callie and can't wait to talk some more with you, love you to the moon and back💓💓

-🧸

teddyy, happy sunday to you my love ✨

oh my, no worries sweet !!! school is def no joke haha. but i really hope your exam goes super well :) i’m sending you the best of luck your way, you’re going to ace this and i will cheering you on from all the way over here 🍀🥰

my saturday started out slow but then something came up later on so i wasn’t able to finish writing 😭 but it’s alright! i’m going to work on the fic this afternoon and have it all ready for tomorrow :)) i’ve written half of it so i’m pretty confident that it’ll get done by the end of the day heehee.

and yeeees!!! honestly it’s been so fun with all these asks about oscar and moon knight 😭 just chatting and crying and simping about them together literally makes my incredibly happy like you don’t understand skjdjdjj. i wish we could have one big group chat here where we all can just *sob* at the same time lololol.

but omg you’re too sweet??!!? you’re making me cry right now forreal ahsjdjdkd. i’ve been so highly critical of my writing but your words are always so encouraging and uplifting 😩 i really appreciate all the love and support and ughh this is going to turn into a long sappy post if i don’t stop now so lemme put on the breaks for a sec lmao we don’t want another crying fest @ me.

as always, it’s been such a joy chatting with you love babe :)) hope you’re having a beautiful day and staying hydrated, love you and talk to you soon 💗

#im sorry that this post is just a complete mess #got lots of words on my mind ya feel LOL #asks #🧸 anon

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snowgoldwaylon · 3 years

Text

Whisper of Roses - Raul Menendez X Reader Chapter One

You never really expected to find the love of your life while walking the streets of Nicaragua, until you accidentally stepped on the foot of Raul Menendez.

A/N: This story is written in a universe where Black Ops never happened, and you both live a normal, CIA and crime free life. Just a couple teenagers falling hard.

You never really got involved with many people. For as long as you could remember, you were very antisocial. Socialization never came easy, so you always were known as the 'Quiet One' to most.

You had friends here and there, but you really only wanted and needed one person in particular. And he was your best friend!

His name is Arlan Davila. You met him one day on a field trip in the 3rd grade. You both had been attached to the hip ever since! He was definitely one of the real ones, and always had your back.

You were sitting in your room, getting ready for the big day! You were also singing your heart out to the radio. I Ran by A Flock of Seagulls played loud, but not as loud as you could sing.

"AND I RAN, I RAN SO FAR AWAY!" You sang, gluing a rose to your cap with a hot glue gun.

Today was the day you finally escaped school for good. Graduation!!!! You danced in your spot just a little bit, knowing it was going to be over soon.

After a rather smooth sailing high school career, you finally did it. The tassel was most definitely worth the hassel. Now all you had to do was show up, grab the goods and get out!

Of course, you being you was decorating your cap last minute. You kept putting it off and putting it off until you ran out of time. Now, you were just hours away from graduating.

Your luck, sucked. Right as you went to glue the last sunflower on, you ran out of hot glue for the glue gun. You pulled back and looked at it, pressing the trigger a few times. Surprise!

It yielded nothing. With a sigh of frustration, you turned it off, unplugged it, and sat it up right. You looked at your cap with some big, sad eyes. The cap just wouldn't look right without this stupid sunflower.

You knew you now had to walk about maybe 10 minutes down the road, to the nearest craft store and pick up glue. You quickly threw on shoes, a coat, grabbed your wallet and headed outside.

You began the 10 minute walk, sticking to the sidewalk for good measure. It was about 4 PM, only a few more hours until you went back to the school. So you know you REALLY had to make this quick, or else you were going without any hair or makeup.

You looked over at all the trees, which were slowly coming back after a long, and harsh winter. You saw how vibrant and green they began to look again. The skys were a brilliant blue, and the clouds were perfect. The breeze that was going set it all off.

After walking more, you finally made it to the store. You walked in, and a bell went off. This signaled the workers that a costumer was here. You quickly went right over to what you needed.

You grabbed a package of sticks of glue, and headed straight for the cash register. After a small, polite interaction with the kind old women working the store, you quickly left.

You walked back home. You were coming up to crossing the small bridge, and that's when your bag decided to rip. It must have already been ripped, it probably just went unnoticed.

Your package of glue sticks took you off guard. It rattled you so bad, that the initial loud 'THUMP' it make upon smacking concrete, you gasped and stumbled.

And of course, you stumbled right into a man walking in front of you. You fell straight to your butt, and had never felt more embarrassed.

The man in front of you quickly stopped, and turned. You didn't even dare to look up. Since the packaging busted on the bag ripped, you quickly scrambled for all the glue sticks while rambling an apology.

"Sir I am so sorry, I'm just in a huge hurry, I'm so stressed out and my anxiety is out of the roof. If I dirtied anything of yours, I'll pay for the cleaning fee." You went on.

The man crouched down, and began to help you. You were suprised by this kind action, and paused as he spoke.

"Oh Miss, please don't worry about it. It sounds like you are already worried, you didn't ruin or dirty anything of mine. Don't fret, here let me help you up, yes?" He spoke, sticking a hand out.

There was something about his thick accent that was just so attractive. And the way on how nice he was to you? You had never felt any more warmness and kindness from a single soul before.

You looked up, and locked eyes with the most handsome man you had ever seen. He had the most perfect and beautiful tan skin tone. His skin shimmered gracefully in the sunlight.

His hair was a brilliant black, slicked back with the finest looking grease. It wasn't oily, but it was thick, and not a single hair out of place. And finally, your ultimate weakness in a person,

His eyes. The windows to the soul, as they say. The way they sparkled and just lit up as soon as you looked at him directly, you felt your heart suddenly begin to dance as if you were on a tv show.

You both were in a shock and awe as you gazed in each other's beauty, and grace. Finally, the young man, with his hand still extended began to speak and it brought you back.

You quickly took his hand, and boy did you feel the sparks. He helped you up gently, and gave you a bag from his pocket. He securely put your glue sticks in, tied the bag and handed it to you.

"Are you alright, Miss?" He asked.

"Yes Sir, I am. Thank you for being so kind. What is your name? I'd love to get to know you." You asked with a smile.

He flashed you a dazzling smile, and ran a hand through his hair.

"I'm Raul, Raul Menendez. And it's mutal. Now, who do I have the honor of speaking to?" He asked with a cool tone.

This made you blush, big time.

"I'm Y/N Y/L/N. I'm a student at Moravian High School, I actually graduate this evening. I don't think I've seen you around." You said.

Raul nodded his head, and slipped his hands into his pockets.

"Yeah, I graduated a couple years ago. But, I went to school there. And now, I think I have a reason to watching the graduation tonight, if you wouldn't mind." He said, sending you a wink.

You smiled big, and nodded.

"Yeah of course, I'll definitely make sure to talk to you afterwards. I'd love to become good friends with you." You said.

He suddenly had a small pink tent to his cheeks, and looked down. He kicked the ground slightly and looked back up.

"Of course, how about dinner on me tonight? If you don't have any wild plans?" He questioned.

"If going home and playing poker with my friends is wild, than I should be locked away!" You laughed.

He laughed with you, and looked back at you.

"Wow crazy lady! Watch out!" He joked.

"Well, I better head back. I'm working on my cap. I just need one more sunflower and it's done!" You exclaimed.

"Why don't I walk you home? Looks like I'm heading your way anyway." He said.

You nodded, and you both began walking back to your neighborhood. Maybe your luck wasn't as bad as you thought.

To Be Continued....

#black ops #call of duty black ops #call of duty #raul menendez

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curiouscarllee · 4 years

Text

Hello, I'm making a list of my OCs with a bit of art and information! I am doing this because I feel as though I post a lot about my characters without ever providing any detail, so, here you go :) On top of this, I'd like to state that I am always intrested in hearing about your ocs as well, you are more than welcome to send me an ask about them or about my own characters :)

Fairlynn: My Main

Fairlynn is a bosmer, he is the Hero of Kvatch and also Sheogorath. He is a tad unpredictable and has some mental issues in regards to mirroring the mad god and myself. Fairlynn was 28 when he started with saving the world, only 29 when it ended and full of grief with Martin's passing. This drove him to the Shivering Isles in hopes that he could persuade a daedric prince to revive his beloved. That's not at all how it went down, upon noticing this realm was not one of a stronger prince, Fairlynn was tempted to leave the plane but found himself infatuated with it instead.

After a few years, the princes sensed a danger approaching, one in the form of an imperial male that had the possibility of defeating them. Therefore, they agreed to send one of themselves down to nirn in an attempt to stop it. Unfortunately, they chose Fairlynn to get the job done and yeeted him down where the bosmer began to gather enforcments in the form of other people which he thought would become allies when they grew older.. But what he didn't expect was the imperial managed to befriend every. Single. One. Of the people Fairlynn had set on course to hate the man, none of them truly did. That's the exact moment where he went, "if you can't beat em' join em'." And promptly joined the group in his mortal form without revealing to them who he was. Instead the group thinks he's just a skooma addict that is talented in the ways of fighting. They have no idea.

Ragnar

This is that imperial male stated in the last description. This man is destined to destroy the influence of the daedric princes on the mortal people, however, he has the intelligence of a box of rocks and everyone doubts this prophecy to be true. The only time one can possibly think this true is when he displays his power in the midst of battle, he was blessed by the divines at birth, each giving him power to defeat the evil of the world. He his bound to use it.. But he never uses it for good, I mean,, why would he? He could kill anyone he wants! No way he's gonna be the "good hero"! (Basically, this was my brother's character and he used mods to make him op so I had to improvise.)

Past wise, my brother and I decided to intertwine him with the lore. You rememeber the song Ragnar the Red? That was Ragnar's father. In truth, his name should be Ragnar the second or Ragnar Jr. but his mother, Matilda, said "hahahaha, no, your father was a mess and you shall not be him." and removed the second part. After his mother died of a sickness, Ragnar hesitantly moved towns in search of work. He missed his mother greatly and would give anything to have her back.

S'arra

Meet S'arra, she is a khajiit female and the heart of the group (along side another who you'll meet shortly). S'arra is the youngest, she may be sweet but she'll rob you blind if she sees a chance. S'arra came from a happy family in Elsywer, she was the child of F'awn and Ja'zaka, two khajiit with completely different sets of morals. Ja'zaka was a born bandit, he was wild and carefree, F'awn (My friends oc :)) was a gentle and caring woman, she loved to live. When F'awn got pregnant, her brother, J'ar, lost his mind. J'ar was fueled with anger towards Ja'zaka and at one point made an attempt at his brother-in-law's life. It was at that moment J'ar was kicked from F'awn's life, he ran from his home and joined a vampire clan/bandit group in Skyrim.

Only months after her birth, Ja'zaka disappeared. He ran and never came back. F'awn tried her best to raise S'arra, but one morning S'arra was taken from her by a rabid animal that invaded the town. The creature took off with S'arra and lead the small khajiit to it's den where a caravan traveling to Skyrim would soon find her and take her with them, raising her as their own on the roads of Skyrim. The caravan was killed and attacked by a certain bandit group/vampire clan (hahaha, yup, the one J'ar is in). S'arra joined the group in hopes of revenge, although, she'll keep that bit to herself. ;)

Adoren

Now this orc, oh he's amazing. He is an old man, a precious old man with a past of pain and betrayal. In order to introduce his past, we need to introduce his adpoted brother first:

Zanik

This is Adoren's adopted brother, Zanik (grandson of Nellie), a not so nice older man. Zanik was thrown out by his father a young age, more precisely, he was thrown in a river by his father in one of his father's crazed fits. Zanik can't swim, he hates water more than anything else in his life. The dunmer was washed to shore near an orc stronghold where he was picked up by Adoren and adopted by the orcs family. Zanik and Adoren lived happily for many many years, one day they went on an exploration to scout for different hunting grounds. It started to pour causing the two to take shelter in a dwemer ruin. That's when they heard soft groaning and sounds of pain coming from down one of the halls. Hesitantly, they explored. Only to find:

Kidawe

My most lore breaking character! Meet Kidawe, a small snow elf from one of the last remaining villiages of falmer! Now, yes, I am breaking the lore because, since when has canon lore stopped me? Kidawe lived on top of the mountains to the north of Cyrodiil and the South of Skyrim. His village is small and portable, in case they need to move, the tribe of elves is shrouded in mystery, they've managed to live this long and refuse to leave their mountain. Kidawe doesn't listen to that, he runs off each night in search for dwemer ruins, things he find more then interesting. The young elf holds no fear when he's in his element, and he loves to explore. One evening, while in a ruin he is attacked by a vampire/bandit named Raeferth (the leader) who pushes him to join the group, trying to convince the snow elf that his expertise is needed. Kidawe refuses and then engages in battle with the nord, he looses and ends up pinned under a fallen pillar that crushes his arm.

Upon waking up after falling unconscious from the pain, Kidawe is met with the sight of Adoren and Zanik standing over him. After many many months of trust building, the two get Kidawe to befriend them. Kidawe uses their help to fashion himself a new arm from dwarven parts found in the ruin. After a few years, Kidawe disappears. He was taken by force by Raeferth (the others do not know this). Adoren and Zanik are heart broken. They miss their friend greatly.

Adoren/Zanik Pt.2

After losing Kidawe, these two go off and join a bandit group.. Yes the same vampire clan group. Adoren thrives in the group, he his strong and more then willing to get his hands dirty. Zanik.. Not so much. Zanik is only kept around because of Adoren. They all know not to mess with Zanik or else they mess with Adoren.

After spending a few years with them, Adoren decides he can't continue this. Zanik begs him not to leave, trying to make the orc realize that this group will not let them go without hurting them. Adoren doesn't listen and leaves the bandits, later that day the stronghold is burnt to the ground. Adoren looses everything in the fire, his parents pass away, his friends and family. Instead of processing lose normally, he makes it up in his head that the reason Zanik was warning him was because Zanik had a hand in it. Therefore the two fight and Adoren punches Zanik, he's wearing a ring that catches under Zanik's flesh and pratically tears off his cheek leaving the dunmer with a horrible scar. Adoren warns Zanik never to speak with him again.

Which of course doesn't stand because after they grew up into old men, they cross eachother's paths once more. They both join up with the good guy group at different times, Adoren joins first after he finds them in his house, and Zanik joins when he is once again found washed up on the shore.

Zorlin

Not much on this boio, he was my first oc in the Elder Scrolls. He's an argonian heavy set warrior. Zorlin is silent and cut throat, he is a part of the Brotherhood and only joins the good guy group after his brother, Tu'ru is 'murdered' by Raeferth.

Tristane

There is so much on him. I'm just going to do bullet points:

Born in Skyrim 200+ years ago. He never knew his true parents and was instead brought up by a wealthy noble family. They more kept him around for labor.

He befriends 3 local kids, Mayrn (breton like him), Raeferth (nord trouble maker), and Lynik (Raeferth's brother).

They all cause problems and Tristane falls in love with Raeferth :D

One day Raeferth claims to have found immortality, Tristane instantly says "No, I'm not doing this." And leaves the friend group, trying to focus on himself.

He is then framed for a crime he didn't commit and sent to Cyrodiil's Imperial Prison. Then he is bailed out by the Emperor and sent to Morrowind.

Morrowind happens, Tristane changes from whining child to even whiner child with the ability to cast spells.

After Morrowind, Tristane travels to Solstiem where he is confronted with Mayrn and Lynik (both as bandit vampires).

Mayrn and Lynik try to force him back to Skyrim to see Raeferth and join them. Tristane, as he said before, says "no". So they kill him.

Now they don't really kill him, they use a method I made up called Soul Gem Reflection. This is something I completely made up but I like it so sue me. I can write an entire post on this alone so we're just gonne say, "Soul gem reflection is a method in which the targets soul is directed towards an object they held dear in life instead of dying. They're life essence is held in the soul gem, but they live in the object."

In this case, Tristane was reflected in his journal.

Lynik felt horrible for doing this to his friend, he felt guilty and returned the journal which he unknowingly relfected the breton in, and gave it to Tristane's family who in turn stuffed the journal in the basement.

Fast forward 200+ years and Adoren buys the manor, finding Tristane's journal inside and opening it. Surprise! Out springs a ghostly figure of Tristane who then convinced Adoren to take him along with the group!

Other Characters:

This is J'ar. He's mentioned above.

Also, here's some more character that aren't affiliated with the group:

-Baendil and Baendal are bosmer brothers, they were abandoned by their parents and instead found by cranky altmer father Kornan. They're bandits (not related to vampires at all). They're bad, not morally wrong but actually just bad at being bandits. They couldn't rob you even if you asked them to.

-I will add more later I'm sure.

#tes #the elder scrolls #skyrim #my art :)#oblivion #khajiit #bosmer #morrowind #dunmer #orc #nord #imperial #argonian

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vickers-n-lickers · 4 years

Text

Moonlit pt. 3

Trigger Warning: Unaliving thoughts, violence, zombies))

Six rounds left.

He thought about doing it right then and there.

Her first. Then him.

Jill warned him they always come back unless they get a bullet in the head.

Maybe she'd try to eat him if she came back.

I'd… deserve it.

Well, he thought he did.

Her ghost disagreed with the notion from the back of his mind.

"You've reached the Vickers! Please leave a message at the beep."

Beep!

"Hey Joan, it's Dad. It's about four in the afternoon. I, uh, I accidentally picked up Jenna from the Y. Sorry, I thought it was my night. You can have Brad call off the search. I bet you both have been worried sick. She's up here in Stoneville with me. She and the dog are settled in for the night, I'll drop her off at school first thing in the morning and him at the house. I'm really sorry, Joan. Hey, do give me a call back so I make sure you got this message, okay? Love you, Scooter. Bye."

"Do you remember when you fell in love with me?" Brad asked, a grin crossing his lips when nails drug low along his stomach.

Joan made a thoughtful sound as she lifted her head. Messy strands of brunette were carefully tucked behind an ear. "That's a secret." She giggled when he squinted and scowled suddenly at her.

"Tell me."

Long fingers swept back wild strands. "Nope. Never. Don't you dare do puppy dog eyes. Bradley! That is blackmail. That is a crime, sir!"

Holding in a laugh, he poked out his lower lip to match the mournful lift in his brow. He smiled when she laughed.

"Ugh! You monster. Fine…" Rolling off of him, she nestled into the crook of his arm. "During the last bad blizzard."

Brad blinked, rolling on his side to face her. "That was three years before we started dating."

The woman just shrugged, tracing the line of his collarbone in the dark. "So?"

"Why didn't you say something?"

"You had so many female admirers, I knew I couldn't compete."

Brad's brows immediately quirked in confusion. "Who?"

"The ladies that work in the records office."

His jaw dropped in horror. "They're in their sixties and I don't appreciate those catcalls every time Wesker sends me down there."

Joan wrinkled her nose, fighting back a snicker. "I bet they all have your sweet recruitment poster on their bedroom ceilings."

"Oh my God, Joan! Why would you put that in my head?" He pulled away when she started cackling.

"I bet they call the number late night hoping you'll answer. 'Is there an oral exam, Brad?'," She squealed with laughter when wagging fingers went for her hips.

"C'mon. Real reason." His smile was so warm and free in the slant of light peeking through the blinds.

It always melted the frost off her spirit. A long sigh escaped, her hand smoothed over his as it ran up her cheek. "The real reason? Because I come with baggage."

He scoffed. "We all do."

She shook her head. "Jack always told me no man would want me with Jenna being on the spectrum and me being a single mother. I…" Her shoulders lifted and dropped. "Part of me believed him, I guess."

Brad was quiet for the longest time. The clock on the nightstand read twelve in glowing red. Unmoving, outside of breath and blinking, he spoke barely above a whisper. "That is the cruelest shit I've ever heard in my life. There's nothing wrong with Jenna. She's a little girl. Nobody can control that. You didn't expect to be Mom and Dad… What the fuck is wrong with him?"

Joan bit her bottom lip. "I don't know. That's Jack. He thinks he has an answer for everything. 'Everyone leaves, Joan. Remember your mother…'"

Brad's stare turned hard as he propped himself up with an elbow. "I'm not fuckin' going anywhere." Short nails ran over where moonlight met her shoulder. "Hey… You know when I fell in love with you?" His lips turned up when she shook her head again. "It was when you said 'I'm Joan'." When her form rose and fell harshly from breath, his arms looped and pulled her fast to him. Kissing away tears, his nose pressed along the side of hers. "I'm not going anywhere."

"You've reached the Vickers! Please leave a message at the beep."

Beep!

"Joan, it's Dad again. It's about nine o'clock. I really hope you have a good reason for not calling me back. The news is a mess so I recon you're still stuck in traffic trying to get home. Before I forget, your brother and his wife are going to be here tomorrow morning so how about you two just come on up for the rest of the week and weekend? Your brother's been jabberin' my ear off about meeting Brad anyway. They can talk shop about helicopters and we'll go fishin'. Love ya, Scooter. Byeeeee!"

The office stunk sterile. Jenna's dirty shoes swung back and forth on the exam table as she waited, expressive gray eyes fixed on the man sitting next to her on a chair. She reached out suddenly, poking at the emblem stitched in blue with white stars on his shoulder. She smiled brightly when he feigned a scowl.

"Alright then, Miss Piper…" Annette's brows lifted as she closed the door behind her. "And who are you?"

Brad was on his feet in a second, offering a hand. "Brad Vickers, Joan is at soundcheck. So, I…" His brows lifted when the blonde woman stepped around him and took a seat at the desk next to the exam table. "…Brought her for shots."

Annette smiled fondly to the girl, fingers looping in the air as she spoke in total silence to the girl.

Jenna's hands suddenly were animated, signing away a response to her doctor.

Brad sat down quietly, watching the two.

Birkin nodded, her stare turning back to the man. "Do you sign at all, Mister Vickers?"

"Still learnin'… What did she say?"

A nail scratched along one of her brows as she began to take down some notes. "She said you're her dad and you fly airplanes."

Soft brown eyes lifted up to the little one on the table. A smile drew itself across his mouth as she fiddled with the buttons on her coat.

A clean needle appeared when the cap was removed, quickly jabbed into a vial of clear liquid. The Umbrella symbol stenciled in red the only color to show.

Brows lifting, the man offered a hand to the young girl. Fingers gently gripping, his stare met her spooked one as Annette prepared.

"Just gonna be a little pinch, sweetie…"

He frowned when Jenna winced one eye totally shut.

"One more and we'll call it a day. Good girl. You're so brave," Annette cooed, a Barbie sticker soon in Jenna's hands. Her stare turned to Brad. "Tell her mother she's due for one last booster in six weeks and I'll get the referral she needs in the mail tomorrow."

Brad nodded, pulling his coat back on. "I'll let her know."

They were almost out of the exam room when Annette called out. "Have you gotten your flu shot yet this year, Mister Vickers?"

Brad's eyes went wide.

Back in the room.

Jenna looked from her new sticker still on its sheet up to the man sitting on the exam table.

Brad just pursed his lips, letting his air out when Annette returned with the vaccine.

"Alright, your turn."

Jenna offered her tiny hand to hold onto.

Annette couldn't hide her chuckle at the pair.

Jenna was still smiling at her two bright pink stickers when they arrived back home.

"You've reached the Vickers! Please leave a message at the beep."

Beep!

"Scooter, it's Dad. It's about six-forty in the mornin'. Your brother just got in. I am assuming you and Brad went home and just crashed out. Please call me back, I don't think Jenna needs to go back to school today. The girls are here. How about I just call the school at eight and she play hooky so she can see her cousins? I heard helicopters flying earlier. What in the world happened last night? Call me, girl. Bye!"

The phone clicked back on the receiver as Jack turned away. "I swear that girl gives me more gray hair every day. Lookin' for the coffee, Son?"

Henry shook his head as he opened another cabinet. "Creamer?"

"It's in the pantry." Fingers running over thinning hair, Jack forced a smile as his daughter-in-law stepped around the corner. "Hey stranger, been a while." His arms opened as the curly haired blonde wrapped hers around him. "Mmmm! I missed you two. How's Seattle?"

"Cold, wet… I love it up there." Michelle replied, smiling as two little bodies pushed their way between her and their grandpa. "Girls, take your bags upstairs before harassing your grandpa." Their whines only made her smile wider. "We're going fishing later, hurry up!"

"Yeah, girls… Jenna is up there so keep it down, okay?" Jack let out a sigh as the two were out of sight. "It ain't like Joan to not answer me. Somethings off."

"Who knows, Dad. Scooter isn't the sharpest tool in the shed all the time," Henry said with a shrug, stirring dried creamer into his coffee.

"They might have realized they were baby free for a night and decided to start making the next one," Michelle replied, a wry grin on her face as her brows popped.

Henry feigned a gag. "Gross."

Jack let out a sigh. "For once in my life, I hope that's the case. Maybe I'll have a grandson next year and we'll all have a laugh at this."

Both smiled at the man seated at the kitchen table.

A bright flash suddenly filled all of the windows, and a minute later the entire house violently shook.

Henry slammed the car door behind him, ball cap fished from the back of his belt and slung low over his eyes as he strode in the direction of the red tinted sky. "Stay in the car, Dad. I got this."

"You sure?"

"It's fine. Stay in the car. I'll find out what's going on." So much screaming, so many people bumping into him as they fled down the narrow paths between cars. It was total chaos.

What the fuck is going on?

He managed to make his way toward the crowd gathered at the roadblocks. He hung back, eyes veering over the many armed forms behind the barriers.

"My husband is still in the city! When will we be let in?"

"I have to get home!"

"What was that explosion? Was that a missile?"

Ducking through the crowd, he made his way toward the end of the barrier. Green eyes clicked their stare from one body to another. From the guy smoking, to another checking his gear, his eyes narrowed as he frowned.

He was fastening his seatbelt as soon as the door to the car was shut. "Drive, Dad. We gotta go."

"What about Joan?"

"Dad, just drive. Let's get out of here before we're pinned in. You're clear still." He took a look over his shoulder to the rear window.

"What's going on, Henry?"

"Just get the car turned around! C'mon, Dad." He let out a sigh as the wheel cranked and the car was thrown into drive. "You're right, something is really wrong."

"What? What are you talkin' about?"

"None of those guys have flags on their shoulders. No unit patches. Nothin'. No name tape, no Army over their hearts. One guy had a grenade launcher out and was smoking."

"What does that mean, Henry?"

The pilot just shook his head. "I don't know. They're not Army though, Dad. They want us to think they are though..."

Jack looked frantic behind the wheel. "Maybe we should check the other roads going in? We have to be able to get in somewhere."

Henry shook his head. "No, no. The reporter back there said the city had been hit with a missiles."

"What? Oh my God…"

The raven haired man choked back tears, blinking them away as the car swerved. "Let me drive, Dad."

"He hasn't been home much since the riots began," Joan said quietly. Wrapped up in a housecoat, she coughed harshly into her elbow. "I uh… I don't know what to tell you, Jill. We don't talk anymore. He's hellbent on keeping his job. I don't think he understands how close I am to leaving him."

"I'm sorry things are rough," Jill replied, the coffee in her cup cold when she took a sip.

"If Forest where here…." The woman bit her lower lip, shaking her head. "God, ever since they were killed it's like he died with them. You know? He's not soft and gentle anymore. He's just… he's just dead but walking around."

Jill grimaced at the thought. "I don't really need to talk to Brad. I wanted to ask you about when you worked for Umbrella. What did you do for them?"

"I uh… I was told I was guarding these massive coolers full of vaccines that required being at a low temperature at all times. Then, well before he died, Albert sent me a disc with instructions to look at it if anything happened to him." She wiped at her eyes, red and swollen. "Those monsters you told us about? I was guarding something like them. He had manifests and notes that said exactly what was in the coolers. There were pictures…" Her thumbs brushed over the side of her mug.

Jill's eyes were enormous.

Her voice was flat, emptied out and hollow. "Did you know most of those things used to be human? They were humans and I helped them take those poor people… Jesus Christ…" She couldn't help but weep, a dish towel used to wipe it all away.

"Joan do you still have the disc?"

The woman nodded, tears welling in her eyes. "Yeah, yeah you can have it."

"It's going to be fine. The military is outside of the city. Help is here, Joan."

"That's bullshit and you know it! We're locked down. There's a curfew, there are more reports of people being attacked. I heard it on the radio!"

"Just drunks, Joan."

"No Brad! We both know that's not what's happening. We should have left town already."

Anger finally beat down the last wall he had, and it would be taken out on her. "If you want to leave, go ahead! I'm not going. My life is here. I might be able to sleep at home for once instead of at my fuckin' desk! I'm tired of this bullshit, Joan!"

"It's all bullshit, huh? Our friends are dead, Brad! They're all dead! That's not bullshit," her voice wavered. "I can't believe you sided with the prick who not only canned me, but is trying to lie about how all of your friends died!"

"It's your own fucking fault you got canned! If you hadn't been such a fuckin' idiot you'd still have a decent job!"

Her eyes were enormous at that, shoulders then squared… then predatory. A panther in the brush, she looked ready to rip him apart.

He looked ready to make a mistake as soon as she did.

The moment passed.

Joan took what dignity she still had and left.

A hand went to the pocket on his vest.

The ring went back on Joan's hand.

He couldn't bear the idea of another hand having it.

He locked the doors and made his way out the back. The alley was empty.

Uptown was the next stop. He was getting the fuck out of town by the end of the night.

She hadn't asked him to be brave.

She had asked him to survive.

#tw sucidal ideation #death tw

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hello-mojo · 3 years

Text

[Ok so the following is a story, (Rise Above This was was a working title) I was working on this completely on my own and I was quite excited about it. I actually had tried to plot out the progression and main plot points, and a few other notes for things I needed to look up and research to mesh the timelines a bit better. I hadn't gotten around to it though and now... well I don't know if I'll ever bring myself to write fanfiction anymore. I loved this story premise though and had such Hope's for it... ah well. The first chapter was completed but there was supposed to be so much more.. Frances having accidental magic and then getting sick and Healer Harry to save her... ah well. If you like the fic let me know, if you want to adopt it, comment.

Oh one other thing... not all the songs are actually nirvana songs, there's a pearl jam song used too but I was looking for songs in the right genre that seemed to work for the plot. It's all fair in fanfic right?

Anyhooty... I doubt I'll post the stories that were completed on my main profile as I orphaned them and they can still be viewedon archive just look up my old. Penname CagedNTorn.

For unfinished stuff I had oh let's see... 3 different charlie/Draco fics I was working on, one that was all but complete... I had a draco/spike crossover fic, plus there was the sailormooon/Harry Potter crossover... that was actually a Drarry fic too, there were a bunch of things that I'll likely never finish. So I'll post them by and by.

Do let me know if there's a better place to post the plot bunnies that are up for grabs.

Now I've blathered enough so here's the first chapter of Rise that can be adopted if someone is interested in finishing it.]

Rise Above This

Draco was backstage at the place he was playing that night. He sat tuning his guitar wearing ripped jeans and a white long sleeve thermal t-shirt with thumb holes burnt in and also a mohair sweater he was particularly comfortable in. Western Washington state was wet and cold pretty much all the time.

This didn't really bother the English man though as England had similar weather. He'd grown his hair out and had it cut shaggy and it hung in his eyes perpetually now but he didn't care. It drove his mother nuts whenever she came to visit.

Narcissa still hadn't quite gotten the hang of blending in with muggles but she was getting better. She was sitting nearby chattering about her trip to France. She was wearing faded bluejeans and a fitted corset top that she'd bought in paris. She also had a posh cashmere sweater on where most of the kids were wearing flannel and converse sneakers, just like Draco.

She had her long blonde hair pulled up into a ponytail. Draco smiled at her as she nattered-on about wines and the latest runway fashions. At least he still had her. Pansy was floating around somewhere too, probably flirting with someone.

"I just don't understand why you have to look so scruffy though darling. You have such a lovely face! Can't you at least comb your hair back?" Narcissa was saying. Draco rolled his eyes at her but gave her a shit-eating grin.

"Because I like looking scruffy. It pisses off the establishment. Even if it didn't, I'd still do it. Hiding myself away is comfortable." Draco said, handing his guitar to a stagehand.

"Besides, this grungy war refugee look suits him. He's ridiculously hot." Pansy stated with a grin as she sidled up to accompany Narcissa out front to watch the show. Draco could already hear the crowd cheering as the lights went down. Draco and the 2 other blokes, 1 squib and one muggleborn, all cast outs of the wizarding world lined up off stage. They formed a circle and everyone put a hand in and they shook them, clapped and cried out their chant.

"Music and ass, gas or grass. We're here for a good time, not here for a long time. Lets do this!" Draco led the chant the guys all cheered and then took the stage. Dave went first and started a drum beat, Krist was next and began the base-line. Then Draco, carrying his electric guitar, went to the mic. He never looked at the audience. He wasn't here for them, not really. He was here for himself. Because he had something to say. Even if no one really understood him or interpreted his messages clearly.

"Come as you are, as you were

As I want you to be

As a friend, as a friend

As an old enemy

Take your time, hurry up

Choice is yours, don't be late

Take a rest as a friend

As an old memoria."

He strummed the chords and sang the song not really looking at anyone. He was trying quite unsuccessfully not to think about a certain messy haired brunette.

After the war he'd had every single door slammed in his face. Even the most menial of jobs wouldn't hire him. Potter had kept his word and put in a good word for him and his mother but the blonde on stage really didn't know why he'd bothered. No one in the Wizarding world wanted him or any other Slytherin around. Dave was a muggleborn Slytherin in the year below Draco and had also been chased out.

"Take your time, hurry up

Choice is yours, don't be late

Take a rest as a friend

As an old memory."

It was hard not to think of Potter when he sang this song because it was about him, at least mostly. There was always a thinly veiled anti establishment opinion mixed in. The fans loved it though and he didn't really mind. It’s not like Harry would ever show up and hear it. He was too busy still saving the world, having babies and whatever else it was that heros did. Not Draco. His long shaggy hair hung in his face as he sang the chorus, and shook his head. Just one word. Memory. His best and worst thing. His respite and the source of his nightmares.

He finished off the song and they hit a heavy chord progression into the next song.

"Load up on guns, bring your friends

It's fun to lose and to pretend

She's over bored and self assured

Oh no, I know a dirty word"

The kids surged forward jumping up and down and shaking their heads as they raised their fists in the air and sang along.

Draco had worked with Dave to put his thoughts on the war into muggle terms. He thought they'd done pretty good honestly. Even if they hadn't, the teenagers in Seattle and California couldn't get enough. He screamed the chorus and the kids screamed it with him.

"With the lights out, it's less dangerous

Here we are now, entertain us

I feel stupid and contagious

Here we are now, entertain us

A mulatto

An albino

A mosquito

My libido

Yeah, hey, yay"

Five years ago Draco had left the wizarding world and his mother behind. Narcissa was more than able to take care of herself. Draco wasn't concerned about her in that respect. His father had been a lot of things but stupid had never been one of them. Misguided certainly, but not stupid.

Luscious had moved money around in various accounts all over the world. He'd taken Draco with him on nearly all of his business trips. Draco had had many private tutors growing up and could speak French, English, Russian and German fluently. He could read in several languages. His father had insisted. Draco learned to balance a ledger when most kids were learning to ride a bicycle.

When the ministry had seized their accounts in Gringotts, they hadn't even seized a tenth of the true fortune. Draco hadn't needed to work. He'd wanted to. However no one would let him. So he'd packed a duffle bag of casual clothes, taken his muggle id and cards and left for America. He'd covered his accent fairly well he thought, and if he came off sounding like a stoned southerner at times… no one pointed it out.

He met Dave hanging around kings cross station panhandling. The two 18 year olds decided to strike out together. Draco and Dave were sitting together at some boardwalk in Seattle, Washington when Draco flipped his skateboard and saw a kid playing guitar near-by. He'd been hooked from the first chord. He'd bought them instruments and they taught themselves to play.

"I think you'll all know this next one."

Draco hit the distinctive chords and the kids in the audience squealed with delight. This was more personal, more singing than the growly screaming. More about his feelings than anything else. He hid in his hair not seeing anyone. In his mind he tried to be back in that skatepark with scraped knees, just him and Dave.

"What else should I be?

All apologies

What else should I say?

Everyone is gay

What else should I write?

I don't have the right

What else should I be?

All apologies."

He sang the words not looking at his mother, not caring about her reaction to that statement. He'd forgotten she hadn’t heard this particular song before. Well she had to find out sooner or later he supposed.

"I wish I was like you

Easily amused

Find my nest of salt

Everything is my fault

I'll take all the blame

Aqua seafoam shame

Sunburn, freezer burn

Choking on the ashes of her enemy."

Draco finished the song and the kids were crying out various songs they wanted to hear while cheering and clapping. Draco loved it. He lived for it. They only had one more song to play. It would end the show on a high note before the next band took the stage. The next song he was about to play was about a lot of things. Various parts of the war, Tom Riddles beginnings, the discrimination in the Wizarding world, his own parents a bit. In hindsight, Draco realized that he likely should have adjusted the set list a bit when he'd found out his mother was coming to the show. 'Too late to do anything about it now.' He thought to himself. Maybe they'd finally have a real conversation for a change. He set his guitar in a stand nearby and took a deep breath.

"At home

Drawing pictures

Of mountain tops

With him on top

Lemon yellow sun

Arms raised in a V

And the dead lay in pools of maroon below."

He shook his head, hiding in his hair and not seeing anyone. Only Dave and Krist, only his guitar. The kids screamed and jumped and sang along. Draco thrashed around stage with them, just the microphone cord wrapped around his hand.

"Daddy didn't give attention

Oh, to the fact that mommy didn't care

King Tommy the Wicked

Ruled his world

Tommy spoke in class today

Tommy spoke in class today"

The guys backed him up intermittently on the chorus and the base thumped throughout the song, a steady heartbeat. Draco couldn’t let himself worry about hurting his mother's feelings. He sang what he needed to say. He knew nothing was ever simple. There were at least two sides to every story and a variety of contributing factors.

"Clearly I remember

Pickin' on the boy

Seemed a harmless little fuck

But we unleashed a snake

Gnashed his teeth

And bit the recess lady's breast."

Draco knew the words painted a vivid picture. He didn't care. Maybe people would learn that bullying others for shit beyond their control was stupid and had far reaching consequences. There were certainly a few chapters in his story that he'd like to rewrite.

"How could I forget

And he hit me with a surprise left

My jaw left hurting

Dropped wide open

Just like the day

Oh, like the day I heard."

There was no possible way he could make up for some of the shit he'd done. He knew that. He tried to just pass on the lessons. Hoping that if he could even reach just one person, it'd be worth it. Exile in the muggle world. They weren't so bad really. Their fashions were quite fun, and much more functional than robes. He missed making potions, doing magic. It was a particular skill set that he was good at. There was no place in the muggle world for magic. He had to be even more careful now that they were getting really famous. People were always watching him. Hiding in the bushes, trying to sneak into his hotel room, everyone wanted pictures of him to sell to the press. He couldn't risk anyone seeing him perform magic. He did little things like casting stasis charms or heating up a hot beverage, or casting a cooling charm on himself and the guy's. He knew his mind was spiraling away from the uncomfortable conversation with his mother that he was anticipating after this.

"Daddy didn't give affection, no!

And the boy was something that mommy wouldn't wear

King Tommy The Wicked

Ruled his world

Try to erase this (try to erase this)

From the blackboard."

He knew his parents had loved him. They had been very cold, and reserved in all things though. His mother could be formidable when she wanted to be and his father was doting yet terrifying. That was something about Tom Riddle's life that Draco had been able to understand. Feeling alone, as if no one cared, no one understood you. He knew how cruel kids could be, because he had been the one leading the mockery in his day.

He'd never once thought about what it might feel like on the other side of it. Until he'd been on the receiving end of such mockery, ridicule and unfairness did he begin to re-think his actions as a snotty young man. The crowd was going wild.

Draco stood as the lights came up and he bowed with the guys. They all smiled and waved to their fans. Off stage, he saw his mother standing with Pansy. Narcissa looked a mixture of hurt, worried and angry. A reporter from MTV was there, shoving a microphone in his face. Draco smiled his small smile, just a turning up of the corners of his mouth really. He answered all of the questions asked in a rare and rather lengthy interview, glad for the temporary reprieve from his mother for the moment.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a familiar set of green eyes and messy black hair, accompanied by none other than Hermione Granger and a regular. Analese Taylor was no stranger to Draco. She had been a fan since the band's boardwalk skate park days. Now that they were famous, she was their number one fan. The way Granger was clutching her arms, the strong resemblance between the two women, Draco could slap himself for not realizing what was so familiar about the girl. She had to be related to Granger, no other explanation.

Before he could really panic about the three familiar faces another familiar set of arms was thrown around his knees and a very delighted

"Daddy!" Rang through the room as his daughter Frances threw her arms around him. Draco glanced around for his soon to be ex wife. He spotted her nearby with arms crossed, looking furious. He sighed deeply as he scooped his daughter into his arms. The child was his whole world outside of his music. Draco glanced back towards Potter and Granger as his wife stormed over as the press and other onlookers were cleared out by Pansy.

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ajokeformur-ray · 4 years

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Hey, I'd like to request a matchup with Arthur if that's ok for you :3 I'm 5"5, brown hair, green eyes, a tiny bit plump bc of my hips amd curves, I LOVE old movies and music (everything from Frank Sinatra, Led Zeppelin, Beatles, The Who etc.) and I love dancing and feeling the music. I spend my free time mostly with reading and cooking (it brings me immense joy to care for and pamper my loved ones). I'm pretty introverted, but can get quiet lively around the right people :)

Hi, darling! That’s more than okay with me, omg I hope that you enjoy this, my love!💙

Total wc: 2,393.

Arthur // wc: 1, 100.

There is a three inch height difference between yourself and Arthur and he adores ducking his head to kiss the crown of your head, his nose nuzzling into the dark strands to inhale you at your most natural. His nose is filled with your scent and long after he says goodbye or good night to you, you keep him company. Sometimes when he thinks that you’re not real, so twisted and tormented is his mind, your scent proves him wrong. His imagination has never been that vivid for so long a stretch of time, so consistently is your scent with him. It’s saturated into his clothing, embedded in his mind. Arthur adores looking into your green eyes, and when he cups your face in his hands, his fingers spread wide behind your ears so that he can touch as much of you as he possibly can in the same moment, he likes to press his forehead against yours. He is home. You are curvy and Arthur cherishes you; he likes to have his hand on your hips when you cook; his sharp chin resting on the curve of your shoulder. His thin lips, cool to the touch, press reverent kisses to your neck as he watches you and just indulges in this moment of closeness and of domesticity; this moment and you are everything he has ever wanted or needed and he hardly dares to believe what is so very clearly right in front of him. Arthur loves you for all of you and that will never be any different.

If there’s one thing which you and Arthur have in common, it’s your love of old movies and music. The first time Arthur came home from a long gruelling shift at Ha-Ha’s to see you dancing and feeling music in the living room, he was breathless and utterly captivated by the way you moved your body to the music. You were just like him. Arthur had thought that he couldn’t fall any deeper in love with you, but in that moment had he been proven wrong. And, oh, how right being wrong felt in this moment! You communicate with each other through music. Most often does Arthur not know how he feels and all he has to do is select a relevant song and you can pick up on his mood relatively easily; you’re both so intuitive and emotionally intelligent and you can both feel the arts you surround yourselves with. When Arthur comes home from work to see you dancing, your eyes closed to better feel the music and allow it to guide your body, he cannot help spinning you around the small cramped space of the living room; he cherishes every moment he gets with you. With you, he feels like he’s living in those old films he loves so much. During the rare evenings when both of you are off and you have the time to yourselves, the both of you watch old films (most of which you both enjoy so there is never any trouble to pick a film, and even if there is, Arthur will deliberately pick the one you want to watch; it’s another way in which he shows affection) and you cuddle together on the worn sofa.

It brings you immense joy to comfort and pamper your loved ones and this is something else which you have in common with Arthur. He likes to spread joy and laughter to this cold, dark world and in this way you both bring light and warmth to all who cross your path. Most especially is this true for one another, though, for in simply being yourselves every day do you look after and take care of each other. Arthur is your greatest priority, and you are his greatest priority. You are made for each other! Arthur really enjoys hearing of ways you have helped someone else or of ways you have taken care of someone, and he most often says, “awh, that’s sweet” when you want to focus on him. Sometimes he hardly dares to even believe that you’re real; you’re too good to be true and with you does he find everything he has ever wanted or needed in his entire life, let alone in one person. You comfort each other with just your respective presences in the apartment; and if one of you is home then the other one is too. Home isn’t necessarily a place, but it’s definitely a person. You like to read and cook in your spare time and this simple domesticity is everything that Arthur has ever dreamed of. You are his one and only person who understands him, and finally, after almost thirty six years of yearning, does he have his own space, but not all alone. You are his entire life and every time you take care of him, Arthur returns the favour tenfold. He would be nothing and no one without you, but with you, why, he has it all.

The both of you are introverts and you spend lots of time together when neither of you has anything to do, when at last has the day been put away and reality is set aside for a few precious hours. The contrast between who you are around people you don’t know and how you are around people you do know takes Arthur by surprise when first does he see you interact with the right person. He longs to be one of those people and he doesn’t have to wait long before dream becomes reality in this respect. Actually, Arthur is pretty sure that you are his dream; there can be no other explanation for how perfect you are and how much he loves you. If there is another explanation, then Arthur doesn’t want to hear it. He only wants you as you are in any given moment; you’re perfect. As the weeks turn to months, Arthur is gifted with coming to see your truest self. This inspires him to relax around you in kind, and the two of you lead one another into the relationship you have now. You are his entire life and Arthur will spend the rest of his time on Earth showing this to you. Never will you doubt even second that he doesn’t love you, just as he will never doubt your love for him, for your voice is louder than his demons; their power diminishes in your presence and never does he want to spend even a single day without you now that he knows what life with you is really like.

Joker // wc: 1, 293.

That three inch height difference is still something which Joker adores. It’s not a big difference in height and it’s not even something which means anything to anyone but Joker, but it still means that Joker can kiss the top of your head whenever he so chooses. Just one easy duck of his head and the red greasepaint which adorns his lips is sticky enough to linger long after he’s raised his head with a smug grin. Joker loves to leave his mark on you in this way. By this time in your relationship, Joker knows that you are real and he no longer doubts it, though he is still a victim of the worries which plague his mind. Even just the thought of you is enough to keep Joker company when he’s out werewolfing in the dirty and filthy streets of Gotham, and he always hurries home to you, wanting more time with his one and only person. Joker would know you anywhere and when he smells remnants of your presence around him, even if it’s just a slight hint coming off of his crimson blazer when the wind blows just right, Joker knows that he is home. Home is not a place, it’s you. He feels more at ease, more peaceful, with you in his life and though he wouldn’t wish his almost thirty six years of suffering on anyone, he would do it all again if it meant that he would have you once more. When first did Joker swan in to apartment 8J after he had murdered Murray Franklin live on national television, he felt out of place, like he was participating in a life which was no longer his, a life which no longer fit, but one look into your green eyes, those eyes which were his own and yet so different, and Joker knew that he was right where he needed to be. Your roles reversed as in that moment did you reach out and cup Joker’s face in your hands, your fingers splayed in those dark green romantic waves, and you pressed a kiss to his painted forehead. Your eyes met his own, you welcomed him home and you accepted him all in the same moment, and Joker’s knees would have given out had you not already been holding him. ALl he could think of in that moment was that he was right where he was needed, wanted, and loved.

One thing is for sure and that is that Joker has music in his soul. He dances to the beat of his own heart and your love for him is the track which accompanies this beat. You flow through his veins so strongly and when Joker is unable to fully express himself, he tells you that you are the music in him. You bond over Sinatra and his music is the one which the two of you dance to often. No matter what happens or what mood either of you are in, you have songs to connect to on their own and you have songs to connect with each other. Your dances are instinctive and while neither of you are professionally trained dancers, you don’t need to be. You can feel the music like it’s part of you and in this way are you more intuitive. The song you are listening to becomes you for its duration and you live within music, while most others only listen to it. Joker adores having you in his arms and he loves to spin you out and to pull you back in with a kiss which steals the very breath from your lungs and he replaces it with his own; you breathe life into each other literally and metaphorically in these moments and neither of you would ever have it any other way. Joker feels more alive with you than he has ever felt and he knows that you are his first and his only love. When most others have turned their faces away from unknown, unseen Arthur Fleck and muted his song without even bothering to listen to it, you stopped to listen and to learn it as well as you know your own song and you know deep within your core that never again do you ever want to hear another song. You wish to sink into his refrains and to never resurface. You are home.

You spend your free time reading and cooking and Joker finds that the familiarity of you and your hobbies calms his racing heart faster than anything else. Whenever he comes home from the grimy and filthy streets of Gotham, he already knows even before he's through the door that he will find you on the worn sofa reading; your legs tucked up underneath you. Joker has never been so loved and so well looked after in all of his thirty five years than he has in the months that he's been with you. It brings you lots of joy to take care of your loved ones and Joker loves the way that you love him. He makes sure to love you just as strongly and just as deeply, for reciprocity is his largest concern. Never, for even a moment, does Joker allow you to question his love for you. Daily does he love on you so hard that the thought never crosses your mind and that's just how he prefers it. You're such a wonderful person and Joker really admires the way that you take care of other people. He likes to sit back and watch you and he will only ever step in if you neglected yourself for the sake of others; this includes himself. He makes sure that he tells you every day that he loves you and that he's proud of you. You're the kind of person that he thinks everyone should be like and somewhere deep within his soul does Joker know that never again will he love another; you're his one and only for now and forever. But not even until death do you part for his love for you goes beyond that.

By this stage in your relationship, you and Joker know each other like the backs of your hands. Joker knows how you are around the right people and every time he thinks he can't love you any more, he's proven wrong when he sees you chatting lively to someone across the other side of the room; he marvels at your confidence. His own confidence is as much of a disguise as his face paint, but your confidence comes naturally to you when you're able to vibe with the right people and Joker wonders how you do it. You’re a mystery to him sometimes but he loves you all the more for the way you so naturally are yourself even with everything you’ve ever been through. You’re so strong and brave in yourself. He loves you so much he could choke on it sometimes and quiet evenings with you is something that he cherishes. Joker likes to read his old government issue battered brown journal while you read beside him, the two of you cuddling and quietly talking the evening away. You are his one and only person who understands him and finally is someone in his space but no longer was here all alone. You are the beginning of his forever, and he is the beginning of your forever. Joker is utterly devoted to you and his life is in your hands, just as your life is in his hands, and the two of you are finally home. You’re so in love that it hurts, but meeting him was the best thing which ever happened to you and Joker echoes that same sentiment.

#dreamingmaria #arthur fleck #arthur fleck matchup #joker #joker matchup #joker 2019 #joker 2019 matchup #please note im not accepting requests for these #im clearing out my drafts #dont send any in bc i'll delete them

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jacobseedvaas35 · 5 years

Text

A Love Like No Other

Jacob Seed X OC Ana Pearce

Warnings: Mention of Abuse, Violence and Smut

Warnings in this chapter: Smut

Word Count: 2156

Tags: @dolphinitley

Chapter Seven

Ana has been missing for two hours now. No one had seen her when she ran off in the morning. She had left her phone in the cabin, so they couldn't call or track her with that. They looked everywhere. Called people and asked if they've seen her but it was a "no" from everyone.

It was night time now, Jacob sat on the couch in Joseph's living room, with everyone around him. He rested his elbows on his knees, whiling tapping his foot on the floor. He tried to think of places that she would have gone but nothing was coming to mind. He worried about her. Was she ok? Did something happen to her? Where was she?

Then, something came to mind. He had an idea on where she could have been. Jacob stood up and left the building without saying a single thing to anyone. He jumped into his car and drove down to Whitetail Mountains.

The drive took forever but he finally reached the destination, on where he thought Ana could be. He made his way up the mountain and sure enough, there she was. Sitting near the edge of the mountain and staring out into the view of Hope County. He let out a sigh of relief and made his way to Ana. He took a seat next to her and the two of them came eye to eye.

Not saying a word, Ana wrapped her arms around Jacob's neck and started to cry.

"You had me worried Ana. You've been missing for hours" Jacob said as he tightly held her against him.

"Her words hurt me Jacob"

"I know. She crossed the line but I can tell you this, she was the most terrified when you went missing"

Ana sat back down, right next to Jacob and looked out at the view again. "I hate being insecure about myself but it's not my fault. It's that bastards fault, for making me like this".

Ana looked up at Jacob and wrapped his arms around his arm, leaning her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I just had to be alone for a while".

"10 hours is a long time. You had me worried sick" Jacob sounded a little grumpy but seeing her in one piece was good enough for him. She did need her space after her sister's harsh comments. "Why did you come here for?".

"Because this was the place that made me fall in love with you more" Ana replied.

"You loved me that long ago?"

"Yes. Can I ask you something Jacob?"

"Sure"

"Are we...like...official now?"

Jacob smirked and looked at Ana. "I'd die to be your boyfriend, fiancé, husband or whatever. Just as long as you want to be my girlfriend, fiancé or wife".

"Of course I do"

"Then it's official, we are a couple now"

"I love you Jacob"

“I love you too Ana. Let's go home now"

Ana and Jacob walked to the front door of Joseph's home, holding hands. Before Jacob could raise his arm to knock on the door, Haley opened it and hugged her little sister.

"You had us worried sick Ana. Don't you ever do that again" Haley said as her hug tightened.

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to be alone and didn't realise the time until it got dark" Ana said.

Everyone ran outside to greet Ana. The concern on all their faces had disappeared and was replaced with happiness and joy. Hannah slowly walked out off the house, not knowing if her sister was still angry at her.

After all the hugging, Ana looked at Hannah and smiled at her. She took it a good thing and approached her sister, hugging her tightly and continually apologising to Ana.

"It's ok Hannah. I'm over it. I know you didn't mean to say anything" Ana said to her.

"So, we are okay?"

"Of course" Ana hugged her again.

"Let's all get some rest and speak in the morning" Joseph suggested and everyone went in their seperate ways.

A month later, Ana and her siblings had all officially moved into Joseph's compound. Each getting their own little cabins to sleep in. Most of the day, they'd spend it at Joseph's house or with the Seed siblings at their own regions. Except for Ana.

Jacob didn't want to take her to his workplace. He believed that, if she saw what it contained and how messy it was, she'd guarantee leave him. Jacob didn't want that, their relationship was just beginning and he didn't want it ending too soon. But their relationship wasn't the only one to bloom in the last month.

Blake and Faith had become very close. People around them noticed how close and flirty they were with each other. At times, Faith would sick on Blake's lap and make out but mostly when Joseph wasn't around.

Hannah and John announced that they were together, two weeks after the event of Ana missing, and that the two of them were already thinking about getting married. One week ago, John had gotten on one knee and proposed to her and Hannah was not going to say no to him. Now the four ladies had a wedding to plan.

Haley and Joseph thought they were keeping their relationship a secret but everyone knew that something was going on between them. They were close and a few times, John and Jacob had walked in on them when they were kissing, so the secret was out. Haley and Joseph were an item. There was also a time when Ana and Hannah had heard the two of them making love, when they thought no one else was home. Ana and Hannah joked amongst themselves, joking about how loud Haley was in the bedroom.

The truth was, everyone was sleeping and having sex with their partners. Everyone except Ana and Jacob. Blake, Hannah and Haley had already experienced that pleasure long before moving to Hope County. Neither of them were a virgin in the first place.

Ana was never that curious about that sexual experience. Was she keen for it now that she was with Jacob? Yep she sure was but didn't know how to go about it. The thought about it was still making her very nervous and scared. She knew Jacob was sexually frustrated but he was also a very patient guy. Never forcing her into something she didn't want to do.

Jacob believed that Ana was the type of girl, who wanted to get married before having sex and he was okay with that.

It was midnight, Jacob woke up from a very pleasurable dream. He looked down at his crouch once he released how hard he had gotten, from the dream, Jacob gently got out off bed and walked into the bathroom.

"I have to be quiet while doing this" Jacob said and pulled his member out, pumping himself fast.

Ana opened her eyes when she felt the bed empty. Looking to her side, she noticed that Jacob wasn't lying down next to her. She sat up in bed and saw the bathroom light open. Ana didn't make anything of it, the man probably just had to use the toilet or something, so she laid back down.

A few minutes went past and Jacob was still working on himself, trying to reach his end. He had his eyes closed as his mind went into deep and dirty thoughts.

"Jacob" a voice from behind him came.

He stopped pumping himself and turned his head to the door way. "Ana".

She looked down and got a glimpse of his member, only to realise what he was up too. "You need help with that" she pointed down.

"I've got it. Go back to sleep"

"You've been in this bathroom for twenty minutes now. Are you sure you've got it?" Ana asked with a smile on her face.

"I'll eventually get there. Don't worry" Jacob winked at her.

"Hmm" Ana said and walked into the bathroom. Jacob, still with his member in his hand, watched as Ana walked up to him. She slowly took the straps of her night gown and let them fall down her shoulder. "Maybe this can help you".

She grabbed Jacob's arm and walked him over to the bathroom counter. He had a fair idea on what she was trying to do, so he put his hands on her bottom and made her sit on the counter. He grabbed his member back in his hand and slowly started stroking it again.

Ana looked down at it and bit down on her lip. "A big dick for a big man. Fuck I'm a lucky girl" she teased and dropped the top bit of her night gown, revealing her breasts to Jacob. She grabbed his other hand and put it on one of her breasts, moaning each time Jacob squeezed it. "Is it working?"

"It sure is but I'm holding myself. I'm not ready to finish off just yet. I want to enjoy these two babies a much as I can" Jacob said, pumping himself slightly faster.

"Trust me baby. You are going to see these two, a lot" Ana gave him a flirty smile.

"Can I?"

"You can do whatever you want Jacob. They are yours to enjoy" Ana informed him and watched as he put his face closer to her breasts.

Still pumping himself, Jacob started to kiss and suck on her breasts and occasionally, kissing her shoulders and neck, making her moan.

This feeling of pleasure was completely new to Ana and she was having the time of her life but she wanted more. She needed that burn in her core, satisfied.

"Jacob"

"Hmm" was all he gave her as he continued to kiss her neck and shoulder.

"I need more"

"More what?"

"You know, more" Ana said. "I'm ready"

Jacob paused and looked up at her. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Please I need relief right now"

"Hold on. I'll get a condom"

"No. Don't worry about it" Ana was quick to stop him. "Just do it. I want to experience everything". She pushed the rest of her night gown down, dropping it on the bathroom floor. She then grabbed the waist line of her panties and slid them off.

This was what Jacob was waiting for. His member started to twitch in his hand and it became even more harder.

Ana grabbed his arm and pulled him closer to her. Opening her legs wide on the bathroom counter, revealing her soaking wet cunt to Jacob.

She's heard other people's stories about where they lost their virginity. Behind buildings, Alleyways, inside cars and just normal bedrooms but Ana didn't think she'd lose her virginity on a bathroom counter. She didn't care though, right now she just wanted to experience this "pleasure" that a lot of people told her about.

Jacob lined himself at her entrance, watching her as he slowly entered her. Ana's grip on Jacob's arm became tighter. Her nails digging into his skin and her head rolling back. A moan escaped from both their mouths once he was fully inside her.

Ana's moved her arms up to Jacob's neck, wrapping them around. Jacob's hands rested just above her backside and started to thrust. He started with slow thrusts, as Ana still tried to get use to his size but once she was set, his thrusts became rapid.

Her moans were getting louder and Jacob was loving the sound. He didn't imagine their first time having sex with each other, to be like this but he was definitely loving every minute of it.

The thrusts got faster and deeper, hitting Ana in the right spot. The burning sensation in her core, was getting bigger and she knew that she was only a few minutes away from reaching her end. She wanted to experience the whole orgasm thing. Her sisters told her that it was one of the best feelings during sex.

It didn't take long, after a few more hits in the right spot, Ana's walls tightened around Jacob and she experienced her first ever orgasm.

Her moans and watching her ride out her end, was enough for Jacob too. He let out a growl against her neck and spilled his seeds inside Ana. He got one last, loud moan from her as she felt his warm fluid inside her.

"Did that help?" She joked, breathing heavily.

"It helped" Jacob replied in the same state as her. "Ready for bed?"

"Hell yes" Ana chuckled.

Jacob put her hands on her bottom and carried her back to the bedroom. Naked and sweaty, the both didn't care and just laid in bed. Ana's head and hand resting on Jacob's chest, while his hand rested on one of her butt cheeks.

"Goodnight" Ana said

"Goodnight" Jacob responded back and the two of them were out in a flash.

#jacob seed #ana pearce #jacob seed x oc #a love like no other #john seed #joseph seed #faith seed #hannah pearce #haley pearce #blake pearce #far cry 5 #fc 5 #far cry 5 obsessed #far cry 5 fandom

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tertiaryembarrassment · 6 years

Note

I hardly ever see any sam stuff so I'd love to read 130 with him.

130: “Oh my god! You’re in love with her!” 3580 words

request a prompt

(for the purposes of this we’re gonna pretend Sam never imprinted on Emily because female friendships are important and I’m not about to write some bull ‘emily hates reader bc she stole her bf’) (and i’ll put it under the cut bc i clearly went 3000 words overboard)

“Y/N,could you pass me the salad dressing?”

Youreyes follow the line from Emily’s pointed finger to a bottle of dressingsitting unopened on the counter beside you, grabbing it and tossing it into herwaiting hands. She smiles in thanks and turns back to focus on the large bowlof greens before her, slowly unscrewing the bottle and upending it into thesalad. You continue to chop away at the pile of vegetables laid before you,sharp knife gliding easily through a mound of onion.

The twoof you move in harmony through Emily’s kitchen, passing ingredients back andforth, offering taste test spoonfuls to the other, sharing pointers and tipsfor the next step in the recipe. In the past weeks, this dance had becomeroutine for you, spending afternoons pouring over large dinners for the pack ofhungry shapeshifters she so often hosted. The pack harboured the largest ofappetites on their best days, but lately they were coming home completelyfamished, tired and sore from the extra patrols Sam had planned for them.Apparently, new Cold Ones in the area, these ones seemingly unlike the Cullenfamily that lived in Forks, had the boys on edge. Whatever the case, you’resure the pack can handle whatever the vampires can throw their way – theyalways have.

It’ssometimes strange, you think to yourself, to think of how you got yourself intothis in the first place. You sweep a mountain of chopped onions into your handand pour them into the frying pan on the stove, a soft song erupting from thepan as they simmer in the oil. Sam was the first one from the pack that you’dmet. You remember that day very clearly – it was only a few months ago, afterall – when you were sitting quietly in the coffee house, reading to yourself,when you momentarily locked eyes with Sam Uley just in time to see him fumblewith his drink, spilling its contents across your table and into your lap,soaking right through your copy of Prideand Prejudice. You helped him clean it up, and he offered to buy youanother book as an apology. It would be weeks before he’d let you in on thewerewolf secret – but you’d been close friends ever since.

Hebrought you to meet the other shapeshifters soon after that, and in thefollowing weeks you would find yourself settling in comfortably to this odd,unconventional little family. You uncover a jar of tomato sauce, pouring itslowly over a pan of frying onions and meatballs. To your right, Emily leansover a tray of bread slices, applying a coat of butter and garlic to each,readying them for the oven. Emily, although not a shifter, was clearly thematernal figurehead of the group, and had welcomed you so warmly when you firstmet. All of them did, you think, a small smile creeping across your lips at thethought of your friends. They were the most close-knit group you’d ever been apart of, and you counted yourself lucky to be found among their ranks, each oneof them bringing a close friendship you hadn’t experienced in too long – some,closer than others.

“Whatare you smiling about?” Emily says, and you jump. You had hardly realized you weresmiling, let alone that she had been watching.

You biteyour lip, banishing the expression sheepishly. “No reason. I’m just… happy.”

Shesmiles, nodding her head and turning back to work on the garlic bread. “I see.Well, keep working, Happy, we have hungry werewolf mouths to feed.”

Laughing,you obey the command, stirring the sauce in its pan and pulling shakers ofherbs and spices from the cupboards. It’s not long before the food is done, thesavoury smell filling Emily’s small house and wafting out the open front doorwith the summer breeze. A stack of glasses in your hands, you leave the sauceon low and turn to set the dining room table, pulling out placemats and cutlerywhile Emily oversees the oven. With two pairs of hands, the work goes quickly,and the table is set in no time, a full spread of pasta, salad, and garlicbread awaiting it’s devourers. You’re opening your mouth to ask Emily when theboys said they’d be home when you can hear whoops and hollers from the streetoutside – roughhousing and laughter, the telltale signs of the pack.

“Incoming,”Emily laughs, moving towards the door to greet the boys as they come in. Youstand straighter, uncrossing your arms and smoothing down your shirt.

Youcount the pack members as they file in, clapping Emily on the back or throwinga one-armed side hug over her shoulder. She’s all smiles, greeting each one asthey move past her. “Hey Quil, Embry, Jacob,” she starts. Seth enters next, agrin spread across his face – not unusual for Seth – and throws both his armsaround her in greeting. “Hi, Seth!” Leah crosses in after, not stopping togreet Emily, as she’s already occupied with her brother, instead throwing a nodand a tight-lipped smile over her shoulder. “And Leah,” she finishes.

No oneelse enters.

You tryto hide your disappointment, a frown settling on your brow as you curl your lipin. “Where’s Sam?”

They’vealready taken up seats around the table, shoveling piles of food onto emptyplates. Jacob answers you, his words muffled by the mouthful of garlic breadrolling in his cheek. “He didn’t want to leave the perimeter unguarded while weate. With the Cold Ones out, and everything. He’s staying back until we’redone, he’ll come get some when we relieve him.”

“If there’sany left,” Emily teases.

“Jaredand Paul stayed behind too,” Quil notes, eyebrows raised pointedly at you. “Notthat you’d notice.”

A blushheats your face at his comment, and you swing on your heel towards the sinkbefore one of them can point it out. You scrub off a few dirty dishes, gratefulfor something to occupy your attention.

“LeaveY/N alone, Quil,” Emily scolds, moving to lean on the counter beside you. Thepack’s conversation quickly diverges from you to the new vampires in the area,the boys each positive they could take down the coven single-handedly. Soonthey’re shouting over one another, easily drowning out your voice as you speakto Emily in a hushed tone.

“It’snot like that, you know,” you say, eyes glued to the soapy water that coversyour hands, dirty saucepan gripped tightly in a balled fist. “We’re justfriends.”

Emilynods in understanding. “I know,” she agrees, the corners of her lips tugupwards, and her eyes flicker to meet yours. “But just so you know? I don’tthink he’d mind if that wasn’t true.”

Confusionspreads across your face. You open your mouth, about to ask for clarification –what could she mean by that? – when she pushes herself from her place leaningon the counter to join the others at the table.

–

In thenext few hours, the pack has ravaged the meal, leaving little for the threelatecomers, and made their way back into the forest to continue their patrols,grateful for their full bellies before a night of long work. Apparently, thenew coven was more of an issue than you had assumed, the boys telling you abouttheir strength and power, the violence in the vampire’s nature, over dinner.You felt a pit of nervousness grow in your stomach at the thought of Sam beingout there alone.

When thelast of them were gone, you and Emily begin to gather empty plates and glasses,filling the dishwasher. You take three clean plates, filling them with the lastof the food and setting them aside for Sam, Paul, and Jared, before continuingto help clear the table. You’re wiping crumbs from the tabletop with a clothwhen the three boys stumble in, exhausted and sweaty from their long shift.

Youcan’t help the smile that spreads across your lips. “Hey, Paul, Jared,” you nodin greeting, which they return. Your eyes flicker to Sam, who crosses thethreshold a moment after they do, ducking as he passes under the door, hismassive frame almost too tall for the entrance. “Sam.”

Hissmile matches yours. “Y/N.”

A breathof relief escapes you, in part thanks to the knowledge that he’s alright, butalso due to the comfort his presence brings. You’d never been able to describeit – never even tried to say it out loud – but whenever he’s near, things justfeel more… right than when he’s not.As if a part of you stays with him when he leaves, and the rest of you longsfor the missing piece when it’s gone.

“Hey,guys,” Emily calls in greeting from the kitchen sink, up to her elbows in dirtydishes and bubbles. “We saved as much as we could for you. Those boys areanimals.”

“Wolves,” Jared laughs, earning a clap onthe back from Paul. The two move towards the table, uncovering their plates andtearing in, as if it’s been years since they’ve had a good meal. You know for afact that’s not true – you’d cooked for them just last night, they act likethis every time.

Sammakes his way to the table as well, squeezing your arm as he passes you.“Thanks so much, girls. We really appreciate it.”

“Anytime,”you assure him, taking an empty seat between Jared and Sam. You don’t see it,but Emily shakes her head, a playful smile on her lips, at the sight of youabandoning her with the dishes. You turn your attention between the wolves,watching them gulp down food like they’re not sure where their next meal willcome from.

“So,Y/N, did the other guys tell you about the coven that’s been lurking aroundForks?” Jared says, excitedly, through a mouthful of pasta.

Youshake your head. “Only a little – that they’re more powerful than youanticipated. They seemed confident that they could take ‘em, though.”

Samsmacks his lips, interjecting without looking up from his food. “Cocky, you mean. Too much confidence isdangerous when you’re dealing with a powerful enemy.”

“Arethey that dangerous?” You ask, worry dripping from your tone.

“Vampiresare always dangerous,” Paul says.

Jaredfinishes for him. “But these ones are some of the strongest we’ve ever seen.There’s not many of them, but they’re expert trackers and they’re incrediblyfast. Not faster than us, but still – I’d be scared if I were a human-”

Samshoots him a sharp glare. “Don’t scare her, idiot,” he scolds, his voice deepand stern. He shifts his attention to you, his eyes softening. “Don’t listen tohim. We’ve got everything under control.”

Fromhere, Sam leads the conversation away from talk of Cold Ones and danger,instead opting to comment on the deliciousness of the food, for which hereceives sincere thanks from you and Emily. Jared and Paul get to talking aboutsome new action movie coming out that they’re dying to see, and eventually youexcuse yourself from the table, remembering you were supposed to help with thecleaning.

“Sorry,Emily,” you apologize, grabbing a towel and a clean dish, beginning to dry. “Ijust wanted to sit down for a minute.”

Shedoesn’t tear her gaze from her hands, deep in the murky water, running a clothover a submerged dish. There’s a smile in her voice when she speaks. “Oh, don’tworry about little old me,” she laughs, flickering her eyes to you, and then tothe boys around the table. She lowers her voice, leaning towards you. “I hearthe company over there is much moreexciting.”

“I toldyou it’s not like that!” You protest, voice shrill but hushed in a loudwhisper. Your laugh, smile, and blushed cheeks betray you. “I… like him. But we’rejust friends; I like being friends.”

Shepresses her lips together, an unconvinced nod of concede. “I believe you,” shesays.

“No, youdon’t,” you say.

She laughsagain. “I really don’t.”

–

Before long,the three have finished their dinner and helped with the finishing touches onthe cleaning. The group exchanges a round of thanks, for the food, for thetidying, for keeping the reservation safe. It’s Sam who first says they should returnto patrol to help the younger wolves, but his indominable sense ofresponsibility is met with groans of protest from not only Paul and Jared, butEmily.

“Actually,I made dessert,” she says, and you furrow your brow. She hadn’t mentionedanything about a dessert to you, and she hadn’t offered it to the other half ofthe pack. “It’d be a shame to let it go to waste.”

Paul leapsup to Emily instantly. “What kind of dessert? Where is it?”

She batshim away. “Give me a second, and I’ll get it ready. The point is, you’ll allstay a bit longer?”

Jarednods eagerly, but Sam hesitates. His face, handsome, with thick brows and asharp jaw, sets in to a frown, knowing of his duties, that he should check onhis pack. He is alpha, after all.

You didn’tmean to, but you’re staring at him now. When his eyes flicker to meet yours,you instantly dart your gaze away, but it’s a moment too late. He’s seen your pleadingface, selfishly hoping he’d choose to stay.

“We canstay,” he answers, finally. Paul and Jared both let out cheers, but Sam onlylooks at you. You smile, eyes downcast.

“Perfect!”Emily exclaims, clasping her hands together. “Y/N, could you do me a hugefavour and grab me the strawberries? I left them in the fridge downstairs.”

“I canget them,” Paul offers, turning to head down the hallway towards the basementdoor.

Emilythrows a hand in front of him, barring his path. A glare clouds her typicallycheery face. “Nope. You, stay.” She turns to you. “You, go.”

Confusionsettles on your brow, but as Paul backs off you figure it’s easier to complythan to protest. You shuffle away from the group, cocking a brow at Emily, whoseems to ignore you.

You pushopen the basement door, making your way downstairs, flicking on the overheadlight and bathing the cool room in a warm glow. You hadn’t spent much time downhere, but the fridge was easy enough to locate, though you couldn’t imagine whyEmily would have left the strawberries down here. To think of her even needinga second fridge for all the food she holds for the pack makes you laugh – they oughtto start paying her grocery bills, at this rate.

Takingthe strawberries in hand and nudging the door closed with your hip, you startslowly back up the stairs, balancing the box in two hands. Flick the light backoff, close the basement door. You’re about to round the corner back to thekitchen when your name catches your ear.

“Y/N’sgreat – I mean, she’s really great – but we’re just friends. That’s how theimprint works, you do what your imprint needs. And Y/N needs me to be herfriend.”

You stumbleback, catching yourself before you make a noise, holding in a breath. That wasSam’s voice, and that was your name but… he couldn’t be talking about you.Could he? No, of course not. You only knew a little about imprinting – hardly anyof the pack had experienced it yet – but surely, you would have known if Sam had…he would have told you. He’s your friend! He would have told you. You pressyour back to the hallway wall, listening intently.

“How doyou know that’s all she wants? You’venever even told her you imprinted on her!” Emily. You should have known. Kind,supportive, well-meaning Emily. She always wanted the best for you, even if shewas convinced she knew what that looked like better than you did.

Paulsighs. “She has a point, Sam.”

“Stay outof this.” Sam says.

“Sam,everyone can see it but you. She’s so into you! How can you be so blind?” She continues,and you draw in a breath. Were you being obvious? Sure, you liked Sam – but youthought Emily was the only one who could tell. Embarrassment blooms in your stomach,and you press a hand to quell it.

Sam letsout a breath. “It’s… more than that. Evenif she does like me, imprinting is… really intense. What if it’s too much forher?” There’s a beat, but you can’t see what he does. Suddenly, his voicereturns, wavering with emotion. “I can’t lose her. I can’t risk it.”

“Oh mygod,” Emily whispers. “You’re in love with her.”

There’sso answer this time, but a feeling of understanding washes over the group. Whatdid he do? Did he nod? If only you could see him.

“Thentell her,” Jared says.

“Seriously,man.” Paul.

The embarrassmentin your stomach has tied itself into a knot of anxiety, sitting like a rock inyour middle. What did any of this mean?

Emily’svoice is softer, full of comfort and kindness. “You won’t lose her. If eitherof you could stop being so goddamn oblivious, you’d both know that.”

You hearhim laugh now, a deep, rich chuckle that softens the knot a bit. “Is it thatbad?”

A chorusof agreement erupts from his three companions. “Awful,” Emily confirms.

“Gross,”Paul laughs.

“Disgusting,”says Jared.

Samsucks in a deep breath, righting himself, banishing the emotion from his voice.“Okay, okay, I get it.” He clears his throat. “Stop being a coward, tell Y/Nhow I feel. Right?”

“He getsit! Finally!” Emily cheers, earning laughs from the boys. “You could start by helpingher with the strawberries.”

Panicsettles in as you realize what that means. Footsteps grow nearer, and you shiftyour eyes to the package of red berries in your arms, backing slowly towardsthe basement door. Turn the knob…

“Y/N?”

Youwince, squeezing your eyes shut and turning your face to the voice. You don’tneed to open them to know it belongs to Sam.

“Howlong have you been standing there?”

Youreyes shoot open, greeted by Sam, a giant of a man, looming over you, deep linesof worry and embarrassment you can only assume match your own etched into his handsomeface. Behind him, Jared and Paul exchange glances, obviously taken aback seeingtheir alpha in such a vulnerable state, and Emily, a hopeful grin spread acrossher lips.

“Notvery long,” you answer.

“Longenough?” He asks, voice cracking.

You nod,tearing your eyes from him to examine your feet.

Heswings around to address your audience, who back off suddenly, as if to pretendthey hadn’t noticed you. Paul shoves his hands in his pockets, feigning whistlingas he pulls Jared and Emily out of sight, back into the kitchen. Same turnsback towards you, leaning in and lowering his voice. “Can we… talk? Privately?”

–

“I’msorry I didn’t tell you,” Sam leans against Emily’s porch railing, his eyescast up towards the sky, counting constellations in the moonlight.

You pullyour sleeves down, balling the hems in your fists to cover your hands, andcross your arms. Leaning against him on the railing, his warmth seeps into you,fighting with the chill of night. “Why didn’t you?”

“Ithink,” he says, sucking in a breath, “you already heard that part.”

You letout a soft laugh, nodding, biting the corner of your lip. “What does it feellike?”

Heblinks, chewing on your words. Finally, he speaks, voice soft, but confident,like he’d thought of his answer long before you asked the question. “Like you’reeverything. When I met you, it was like everything else just… faded. It allbecame dull in comparison. You became why I do what I do everyday – to see moreof you, to make you smile, to make the world better for you,” he pauses, rubbinga hand on the back of his neck. He turns his head from the stars to face you,but his expression doesn’t change. All the wonder and awe that the infinity ofthe galaxy inspires, he still looks the same when he looks at you. “Intense, right?”

You blowout a breath. “A little.”

“I wantto be a part of your life no matter what that means,” he says. He shifts,leaning one arm on the railing now instead of two, taking hold of your hand nowwith his free one, warm fingers enveloping yours. “Don’t let this change howyou feel.”

A nervouslaugh, and the something banishes the knot in your middle. A moment of courage,you suppose, as your words escape past your lips. “I don’t have to.”

Beforeyou can rethink it, you’re cupping his face in your hands, bringing him towardsyou as you press a kiss to his lips. Without a moment of hesitation, he’s returningit, locking strong hands around your waist, pressing your body against his, dancinghis lips over yours. His warmth consumes you as you lean into him, two forms movingas one, suddenly, feeling the most whole you had since the day you met him.

As ifthat missing piece had finally come home.

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chasholidays · 7 years

Note

Thanks for doing this again!! I'd love to read a Dancing with the Stars Bellarke AU if possible!!

The nice thing Clarke has found about Dancing with the Stars is that, as a general rule, the less she likes her celebrity partner, the sooner she’ll be eliminated.

It’s not a purposeful thing; she always does her best with every season, she’s way too competitive to not. But it tends to be hard, to work with people she dislikes, as the root cause of her dislike is generally that they won’t fucking listen to her. When she goes out early, it’s almost because her stupid celebrity refuses to listen to her or thinks she’s too harsh or the dance is too hard. It’s not like she usually gets to know them on any deep level; they spend a few weeks together in a surreal environment, and then she never sees them again.

Finn Collins, though. Finn Collins is new.

“You could just break one of his legs,” Bellamy suggests. They’re getting drinks and Bellamy is mocking her because while Ontari is something of a nightmare, she’s at least an expected kind of nightmare. She’s a controlling former actress who wants this to reboot her career and thinks Bellamy is there to serve her, not teach her. It sucks, but they’ve all dealt with that before. “Like, casually.”

Clarke snorts. “What’s the casual way to break someone’s legs? Ski mask and a tire iron?”

“I was thinking you just trip and fall and get him with your knee as you go down, but if you’ve got a ski mask and a tire iron–”

She elbows him. “Seriously, I’m worried that if he gets to the final he’s going to propose or something. Just to get audience votes.”

“That is how he got famous, right? Deciding he was going to marry a woman he barely knew?”

“If he tries to give me a rose I actually will break one of his legs,” she grumbles, and Bellamy laughs.

Finn’s not the first “star” to make it on the program because of his experience in reality TV, but Clarke will admit she finds him one of the least impressive. He went on The Bachelor despite, apparently, having a serious girlfriend, and he was somehow hoping that she wouldn’t find out because she hated reality TV, and that he’d be able to dump her cleanly if it went well.

Instead, it all blew up in his face, as he deserved, and by three months after his engagement at the end of the show, he was single and slightly infamous, which is, admittedly, the sweet spot for people who want to continue to appear on reality TV. He’s hosted some specials, been on some morning shows, and now seems to be known mostly as a pleasant, generic attractive white guy, like they didn’t have enough of those on TV already.

“If it makes you feel better, he’s not actually a good dancer, so he should get weeded out pretty soon,” Bellamy points out, practical as always. “He’s been scraping by on charm and luck. I’m just glad the charm stopped working on you.”

She makes a face. “It wasn’t working, I was being polite.”

“Because you didn’t know anything about him.”

“I’m still being polite.”

“I’m just saying, before I told you to google him, you actually kind of liked him.”

Clarke grins and nudges him. “So you were trying to save me?”

“Friends don’t let friends date former Bachelor contestants, Clarke.”

“Especially not ones who cheated on their real girlfriends. He would have lost me pretty soon anyway. He’s just so–”

“Finn?” Bellamy supplies.

“Pretty much. How’s Ontari doing? I feel like you aren’t complaining as much.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to cut into your time,” he teases, and she elbows him again. He ducks his head, laughing, and Clarke finds herself smiling too. He’s in a good mood today, a rarity, and it’s nice to see him so relaxed. “Honestly, she’s fine. Don’t get me wrong, she hates me, thinks she knows better than I do, and if she could just be her own teacher and partner, she’d be fucking thrilled. But the judges keep praising all the stuff I say they will, so she’s coming around. And I’d take unnecessary asshole hostility over someone trying to hit on me every time.”

“So, my life is terribleand makes you feel better about yours?”

He raises his glass. “Appreciated.”

She shakes her head, smiling. “Happy to help.”

As with so many things, the Finn situation gets worse before it gets better. He’s one of those people who, as he gains experience and confidence, also gains opinions, and while that can be a good thing, his opinions are bad, and he should feel bad.

“He thinks we need to put more Bachelor stuff into the routine,” she tells Bellamy, a week later.

“I told you he wanted to give you a rose. I tried to warn you.”

“He used the word synergy.”

That makes him wince. “Jesus, really?”

“Synergy, I swear to god. He thinks the cross-promotional synergy will really help his brand.”

“If that’s an actual quote, I might break his leg.”

“It is.” She puts her head on his shoulder with a sigh. “I never thought basic competence would be this annoying.”

“Yeah, it’s a real burden.” He pauses, thinking something over. “Did he say what he thinks his brand is? Because asshole from The Bachelor is a pretty competitive field.”

“That’s why he wants to add dancing. None of the others are dancers.”

“I’ve seen him dance, he isn’t either.”

Clarke smiles. “Doesn’t that reflect on me? I’m the one who’s supposed to be teaching him.”

“You’re doing your best with what you have to work with.”

“Ontari is actually good.”

“She’s nominally a singer, so I guess she should be.”

“Nominally, you’re such a snob.”

“I just think when you autotune that much you should lose some of the credit for your musical skills,” he grumbles. Bellamy googles everyone who signs up for the show extensively, which is how he knows things like who Finn is and what Ontari’s music sounds like. Clarke’s experience tends to be more scattershot, with some people she recognizes and some she wouldn’t know were stars unless someone told her. Which doesn’t bother her, but she’s pretty sure Bellamy is still embarrassed about his first season, when they had Roan Churchill on the show and everyone else was star struck and Bellamy mistook him for a new PA.

So now he’s an expert.

“But she does actually have rhythm and some taste.”

“Let’s not get carried away. I’m still rooting for Monty.”

“Me too,” Clarke admits. Usually she roots for her own star, and then Bellamy’s, but since both of theirs suck, they had to find other people. Monty’s kind of quiet and dorky, famous as a cartoonist of all things, and everyone expected him to fail out basically immediately, but the guy can move. It’s kind of awesome.

“So, what does Finn do with the rose in this hypothetical dance?” he asks. “How bad is it?”

“It’s in his mouth.”

“For your disco week number?” Bellamy asks, sounding dubious.

“Don’t tell me you’re against disco roses.”

“At this point I think it’s safe to say I’m against Finn,” he grumbles. “I don’t really want you to get knocked out, but–yeah, if he could got horribly injured and you had to get a new partner, I could live with that.”

“Still working on how to break his legs and make it look like an accident. But if I figure out how, I’ll let you know.”

“If you need an alibi, just ask.”

She grins, kisses his cheek. “Yeah, I know.”

Clarke and Bellamy have been professionals on the show for six seasons together, but they’ve never actually danced together. It’s not something Clarke thinks about, not something she felt like she was missing in her life. She knows Bellamy is a great dancer, one of the best she’s ever seen, and she’s always thought it would be fun, but she hasn’t danced with plenty of people.

It comes up primarily because Bellamy and Ontari somehow get eliminated before she and Finn do, which is just absurd. It’s not like Clarke likesOntari–quite the opposite–but she was without a doubt a much better dancer than Finn is, and she definitely should have stayed longer.

On the bright side, Bellamy is no longer the competition, but he’s still her friend, so he’s just hanging around offering commentary on their moves. It’s kind of cheating, probably, but it’s not like he isn’t offering commentary on other people’s routines. She’s just his favorite, and he hates Finn, so he’s doing it extra for them.

“This is impossible!” Finn finally says, in exasperation. “No one could do this!”

“That’s just bullshit,” Bellamy says, mild. “Just because you can’t doesn’t mean it’s impossible.”

“Yeah? Then you do it.”

It’s an incredibly stupid thing to say, and Finn realizes it maybe a second after he says it, but it’s too late.

“Sure,” says Bellamy. He glances at his friend Miller, who’s behind the camera today. “Assuming that’s cool.”

“I don’t give a shit,” says Miller. “They might not use the footage but go for it.”

“Clarke?” he asks, and Clarke finds that she really, really wants to.

It’s a surprise, but it shouldn’t be.

“It would probably be good to get a demonstration in. You know it?”

“Yeah, I know it.” His eyes sweep over her, just once, like he’s checking in, and then he offers his hand.

She’ll be the first person to admit the whole thing works a lot better with Bellamy than it does with Finn. It’s less that sexual attraction is required for dance–it definitely isn’t–and more that comfort with the partner helps.

But it’s also a little bit that it’s a sexy song, and a sexy dance, and given her choice between dirty dancing with Finn and dirty dancing with Bellamy, Bellamy wins every time.

The speed was what was tripping Finn up, mostly, and some of the more complicated footwork, but of course Bellamy doesn’t struggle with that. He’s light on his feet, his movements sure, and his eyes never leave hers. It’s close and hot and intimate and like no other dancing has ever been, like no other partner has ever been. Her whole life, nothing has ever been like this.

By the time they’re done, everyone is staring at them, and Clarke’s wondering if she’s allowed to drag him off somewhere and fuck him now, or if she’s required to wait until later.

Judging from his expression, he’s wondering the same thing, but he makes up his mind first. “See?” he says, to no one in particular. “Anyone can do it.”

“Yeah, that’s the lesson we learned there,” says Miller, dry.

Finn, on the other hand, is just sort of gaping at them; Clarke offers him a sunny smile. “I don’t think it’s the choreography,” she says, and that makes him close his mouth.

“No,” he says, at last. “Probably not.”

Bellamy is waiting for her when she leaves the showers after, looking like an anxious kid after his first school dance, of all things.

“Hi,” she says.

“Hi. I thought I could, uh–I thought we should talk.”

“Talk?” she asks, amused. “You want to talk?”

“What’s wrong with talking?”

“Nothing. But it seems kind of unnecessary.”

“Unnecessary,” he repeats, but there’s a smile lurking around his mouth.

“Was some part of what happened there unclear?” she asks, trailing her fingers up his chest.

“I hope not,” he says, and leans down to kiss her.

So they’re definitely on the same page.

When she and Finn get eliminated that week, she assumes that it’s partly because they included some of the footage of her and Bellamy practicing together, and nothing she and Finn did came even close to being that good.

Bellamy assumes so too, because he greets her with a kiss and, “See? We got rid of him.”

“I don’t know if that counts.”

“He’s gone and we’re together,” he points out. “That sounds like winning to me.”

It’s hard to argue with that logic, and she cuddles into his arms, warm and perfectly content, despite the loss. “Yeah,” she says. “When you put it like that.”

#hart-and-friar

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frostedpuffs · 7 years

Text

A Simple Suggestion - Ch.3

A Simple Suggestion Summary: Breaks from patrol often allow time for Ladybug and Chat Noir to talk and be themselves. But when a silly joke starts to seem all that…well, not silly, the two find themselves considering something neither of them had ever before: moving in together. The tricky part is still keeping their identities a secret. Rated: T+ Pairing(s): Ladybug/Chat Noir

Chapter 3 - A Bad Idea Word count: 5,849 Also read on: ao3

<< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter >>

"You're what!?"

Marinette winced at the loud tone of her best friend's voice. Smiling meekly at Alya's face on the screen of her laptop, she nodded. "Yep. I'm...I'm moving out. Soon, actually."

"How soon?" Alya asked. She sat in her and Nino's little bedroom in the apartment they rented in southern California clad in orange fox pajamas, stuffing a bite of her breakfast into her mouth. Marinette chuckled at the sight of her best friend with her curly hair up in a bun and a half-eaten omelet sitting on the desk in front of her. While it was only eight A.M. in California, it was already dinner time in Paris.

"Probably in less than a month," Marinette replied. Pausing to add lace to a design she was sketching, she smiled, listening to Alya congratulate her from miles and miles away. "I think I've decided on the place, too. It's a little away from central Paris but it's roomy and-"

Alya grinned through a mouthful of food. "Do you have any pictures?"

Marinette nodded and opened up her web browser. "Yeah, I've got the website right here. Want me to send it?"

"Duh."

Sending the link over Skype, Marinette blew her bangs out of her face and leaned back in her chair, lifting her sketchbook up to look over the design. It was supposed to be a ladybug-patterned sundress she would wear around the house, but something was off... "Let me know what you think."

Alya went quiet for a moment. Marinette could see on her screen that her friend was looking at something on her own computer, and after about a minute of scrutinizing, Alya's eyes widened comically.

"What?" Marinette asked.

Continue reading on ao3 or under the cut! ↓

"Um…well, for starters, it's a super cute place. Suits you. I could totally see you living in an apartment like that." Alya sat back in her rolling chair and offered an uncomfortable frown. "But, no offense, Mars...nearly three thousand euros a month just for rent? How in the hell are you going to afford that along with utilities and food and stuff?"

Marinette looked away. Right. She'd forgotten to mention that she might be living with someone else.

(Oh god, Alya was going to kill her when she found out that she was going to live with a guy she'd never met!)

"Well…" Marinette said, twirling a loose strand of hair around her finger. "I've already found myself a roommate."

Alya nearly choked on the last bite of her omelet. "What? Who is it?"

Marinette blanked.

How in the world would a person go about explaining her situation? She couldn't just say, "I don't know, he's Chat Noir and his identity eludes me, oh by the way I'm Ladybug so I trust him," could she?

"Um." Marinette blinked. "A friend."

Both girls went completely silent. It reminded Marinette of the old "pin dropping in a room" cliché. Her cheeks flushed involuntarily and she wasn't even sure why. What was the reason for feeling embarrassed?

Alya leaned closer to the screen and gripped the sides of her laptop. Her eyes burned with questions, and her face was frozen in a serious expression—one that made Marinette slightly frightened of her fate. "Girl," Alya said, voice calm. "In the past year I've been away did you get a secret boyfriend that you haven't told me a single thing about? Because if you did oh my god I don't know what I'd do-"

Marinette's jaw dropped. "N-no!" she squeaked. "No, Alya, I'm single. He's not my boyfriend! He's just a friend and I-"

"So it is a he?"

"What does that matter? You know I'm not straight!"

"Well-!" Alya held up a finger and paused. "You're bi. So it could still be a secret boyfriend."

Marinette buried her face within her palm and snorted. "Alya, oh my god. I do not have a secret boyfriend or girlfriend or datefriend or anything. He's just...he's just a friend I've known for a while. You don't know him."

At least, Marinette assumed she didn't. How could she? It was Chat Noir, not a friend from collége or something. Just Chat. Her other best friend. The one person she trusted with her life and the only person she could imagine herself one hundred percent comfortable living with. Besides Alya and her parents, of course.

"I'm offended I haven't heard anything about him," Alya said. She rested her back against the chair and crossed her arms, a playful smile on her face. "What's his name?"

"Cha-" Marinette clamped her teeth down on her bottom lip before she let "Chat Noir" slip from her clumsy mouth. "Chaaaaa….Shhhaaaa...Chad."

Alya cocked her head to the side. "That's an odd name. Is he American?"

"Yes," Marinette answered without any second thought whatsoever. "Moved here...last year."

God, if this ever got back to Chat he'd never stop laughing. It would be a mix of both hilarity and humiliation. At least him "moving to Paris a year ago" was a valid excuse for Alya not to have met him.

"What's he look like?" Alya asked. She stood from her chair to get dressed and threw her pajama shirt onto her and Nino's bed—who was conveniently out of the room—and Marinette was met with an eyeful of her best friend's bare chest.

"Alya!" Marinette laughed. She cupped a hand over her mouth and shut her eyes. "What are you doing?"

Alya's voice rang distantly through the laptop speakers. "Um, I'm getting dressed? Nino and I are actually going to spend the day together for once since he's not working. He's gonna be home any minute and I wanna look cute. Why are your eyes closed? You've seen me naked before. Need I remind you that we've been best friends for six years and have undressed in front of each other plenty of times?"

Marinette chuckled, eyes still shut. "I'm trying to be polite here."

"Yeah, yeah. Girl's polite and all, whatever."

After a few minutes of shuffling and other related noises, Alya plopped herself back down into her computer chair and Marinette finally opened her eyes to see her friend in a red flannel and jeans. She watched as Alya friend ran a brush through her curly red hair, and grinned when she tugged on a knot. A giggle bubbled from her lips as Alya cursed at the hair brush as if it was at fault for the discomfort.

Once the monster of her hair had been tamed, Alya set the brush down on her desk and scooted the dirtied plate from breakfast to the side. "You didn't answer my question, Mars."

Marinette resumed her sketching. It was best to act nonchalant. "What question?"

"I asked what M. Mysterious Roommate looked like."

"Oh."

Well that was certainly a question Marinette hadn't been prepared to answer. Chat Noir was…hm.

Chat was something. Blond with green eyes, tannish skin, tall and skinny like a professional model; skin-tight suit as black as the night; perfect white teeth and a smile as wide as the sun.

Ugh, but that all sounded so fake. What features could she possibly describe without sounding like she was talking about a character from a young adult novel or a celebrity, for crying out loud?

Glancing up at her laptop screen, Marinette ripped the failed design out of her sketchbook and crumpled it within her hand. So much for that dress. It would get redone later. "He's, um...blond. Green eyes. Wears a lot of black? Pretty skinny…"

"Sounds kinda emo," Alya said.

Marinette squawked out a surprised laugh and began a new sketch on a clean page. "He's not emo!"

"How old is he?"

"Twenty." It was one of the only pieces of personal information Marinette had learned about her partner.

"Aw, same age," Alya cooed.

Marinette gave a playful roll of her eyes. It was always like Alya to tease. That was just how she showed her love.

"What kinda stuff does he like?" Alya asked.

The lead of her pencil snapped, and Marinette cursed. "The same kind of stuff I do, I guess? Video games, art, staying up late…he really likes puns, and cats. Oh god, he loves cats. They're like his whole life. He's practically obsessed."

"So he's a furry?"

"No! Oh my god, Alya-"

Alya turned her head to the side as the sound of keys jingling in a door came from another room. "Nino's home," she said, enthusiasm in her voice. "I'll talk to you later, okay Mari? Love you!"

Giving a wave, Marinette returned the sentiment and went to end the call, but-

"Oh!" Alya exclaimed as she threw her purse over her shoulder. Marinette's hand stilled atop her mouse. "I forgot to tell you! Nino and I are coming back to Paris for a visit next month! I can meet your roomie. He sounds cute. We should all hang out and get drinks or something."

Excitement flared up within Marinette's chest before she froze.

Oh, shit, she thought, mind reeling, heart pounding, eyes the size of the moon. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! We can't do that!

How in the world would she break the news to Alya that she couldn't meet her roommate because he was, dunno, Chat Noir? Savior of Paris? The number one flirt in the whole city (she assumed)? Ladybug's most trusted partner and friend?

"Uh…" Marinette blanched. Blinking, she shook her head and forced a toothy grin to her face, nodding a bit too vigorously to be entirely convincing. "S-sure, Alya! Sounds fun. I'm so looking forward to see you again!"

"Kisses!" Blowing a kiss to the screen, Alya reached out and ended the call. The screen switched back to the text chat they'd started up an hour ago.

Well.

This was bad.

Marinette's heart felt like it was about to burst from her chest. While she was beyond elated to see her best friend in person again, the fact that Alya wanted to hang out with her and her roommate—Chat Noir—was immeasurably concerning. After all, nobody could find out Marinette was Ladybug, just like nobody could find out Ladybug was Marinette, and the thought that the whole idea altogether was spiralling into an absolute mess made her want to run and hide and- and- she didn't know!

"Tikki," she breathed after a moment. Her head felt heavy and her stomach felt sick. Grabbing a pillow from her side, Marinette stuffed her face within it and screamed. "We're so screwed."

"I'm beginning to think this is a bad idea."

Adrien snapped up from the roof he'd been lying on and regarded his partner with a startled frown. Her face was scrunched up with worry under the low light of the evening sun, and her gaze was thoughtful as wisps of black hair kissed her cheeks in the faint breeze. He raised a brow as she nibbled on her lower lip. She appeared to be nervous...but why? What was causing her to be so distraught?

"Bad idea?" Adrien asked. "What's a bad idea?"

Ladybug loosened her messy hair from her ponytail before fixing it and attempting to put it up again. It took her a few tries, which was unusual; it wasn't like Ladybug to have trouble with such a simple task unless something was really bothering her. "Us. Moving in together," she said, voice quiet. "It might not be too great of an idea."

Adrien's heart sank like a brick hitting the bottom of the Seine. Ouch. Okay, so...they weren't doing this now? The past three days of planning and talking and figuring it all out had been for nothing? But they'd both been so excited! He'd been so happy to think about the possibility of moving out...being on his own...away from his father's eye...

After a moment of internal deliberation, "Oh," was all he could say.

"Don't get me wrong," Ladybug said, laying a hand on his shoulder. "I want to more than anything. But everything right now is looking so...difficult. And I'm starting to think it might not work out."

"It's not like you to give up so easily," Adrien said. He turned to face his Lady and cocked his head to the side, hoping the hurt didn't show on his face. "What's worrying you? You can talk to me about it, Buginette."

A chilly gust of wind blew past them, giving the air an icy tinge to it. A minute passed, then two, and Adrien was beginning to think Ladybug was going to leave his question unanswered before she finally found the courage to speak.

"I'm just fretting over stuff that doesn't need to be fretted about," she said, sounding defeated. Lowering her head, Ladybug examined her fingers, as if she was trying to find something other than the current subject to focus on. "You know how I get sometimes…"

Adrien hummed thoughtfully. There had to be something rooted within her that was causing her to feel anxiety over the notion of them moving in together. Something was bothering her, something recent, and he wanted to find out what. A calm Ladybug was a happy Ladybug. Poor 'Bug got stressed out so easily these days and he wished he knew why.

Giving his partner a reassuring smile, Adrien patted her back. "Tell me what's bothering you, L.B."

Ladybug was silent for what felt like ages—which in reality was only a minute tops—before she let out a breath she'd been holding and submitted. "I had a Skype call with a friend in America today. She's flying in next month for a visit and wants to meet you."

Oh. Well, that was definitely a problem. Adrien could see why something like that would bother her.

"But she can't," he said. Ladybug nodded in agreement.

"No, she can't. And she's not the only one who will want to meet you. I mean, I don't know how my parents would react to learning they'll never see you—probably not well—and I have other friends who'll want to visit." She laid back against the roof and stared up at the sky. "I'm scared we won't be able to work around that and someone, someday, is going to find out who we are. On accident. And it'll be a huge mess."

Ah. Ladybug was worried about people discovering her identity. That's what this was all about.

"Don't worry, 'Bug," Adrien said as he lay back with her. Their shoulders brushed, and he allowed himself a twinge of delight at the touch. "We've kept our identities safe for six years now. We're good with that stuff. I'm sure our friends won't find out so easily, not if I have anything to say about it."

"How do you know for sure?" Ladybug asked. She fiddled with her gloves and nibbled on her bottom lip in a way that shouldn't have been absolutely endearing.

Feeling his lips curl upwards into a smile, Adrien reached out and placed a hand over her own, hoping to calm her nerves. He gave her knuckles a squeeze, and Ladybug responded with a turn of her head. Her eyes sparkled curiously.

"What's on your mind, Chat?" she asked, allowing him to hold her hand for longer than he'd anticipated.

Adrien grinned. What was on his mind?

Even when she was lost in her anxieties, Ladybug was beautiful. There was no denying that. Her bluebell eyes, the way her dark hair had grown down to her lower back, her voice and freckles and how she always knew what to do. Her bravery, her stubbornness, her fiery personality and her absolute everything…

Ugh. He was so far gone. So gone to the point that he'd drowned in Ladybug and never felt the need to breach for air.

"Nothing about how you're the most gorgeous person I've ever met," he said. Ladybug clicked her tongue and pulled her hand away; Adrien mourned the loss of her warmth. "And I was absolutely not thinking about how I'd love to spend the rest of my life with you."

Sitting up, Ladybug sighed restlessly. "Not now, Chat Noir. Stop flirting."

Oh, well. It was worth a shot. Didn't stop him from loving her. Her feelings were more important at the moment however, just like they always were to him, so the compliments and affections could wait for a better time.

"You okay?" Adrien asked, sitting up with her. "You seem really on edge."

"I'm just so worried," Ladybug whimpered. Her voice cracked, and Adrien felt a deep pang of sympathy. "I'm scared we're going to screw up really bad, like what if one of us sleepwalks when another is awake and we're not wearing masks or we come home at the same time or accidentally see each other when we do, or if something terrible happens to either of us-"

Adrien sat down in front of his Lady and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Woah, hey," he said, tone calm; soothing. "It's okay, Ladybug. We'll be alright. There are plenty of ways to prevent accidental reveals, okay? Trust me. We're gonna be extra careful, and we're gonna be okay. I know that. We're gonna be okay."

"I don't know if I can go through with this."

Scratching at the back of his neck, Adrien frowned. Ladybug had a tendency to be overdramatic and blow things out of proportion from time to time, but hopefully she wasn't saying that she wanted to eradicate the idea altogether. It had already been three days since they had decided they would be officially moving in together...which was plenty of time for them both to think things through and make a decision.

(Well, enough time for Adrien specifically to think about how much he couldn't wait to be closer to his partner.)

"Okay," he breathed, black ears drooping against his hair. He sat back beside her and his tail twitched in tune with his nerves. "If you're not comfortable with it, we can totally call it off-"

Ladybug shook her head. "It's not that I'm not comfortable with it," she said, her blue, blue eyes meeting Adrien's, "I'm more than okay with the thought of us living in the same space. The problem is how we're going to get to that stage. We've still got so much to figure out, and the whole 'can't reveal ourselves' thing is going to make it a whole lot harder."

With a thoughtful hum, Adrien nodded. Things were going to be incredibly tedious. They had a lot to discuss, and even more to think about. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, you're right..."

A heavy feeling of sadness washed over him.

Who were they kidding, thinking they could move in together at the drop of a hat? Both he and Ladybug knew that there would be trouble behind the idea, and a plethora of difficulties to overcome. At first, it had admittedly been a nice thought, living under the same roof as the girl he loved...but Adrien knew better. He didn't get that lucky.

No, luck was reserved for the Lady herself. But in this case it seemed that even she was getting the short end of the stick.

Still, it didn't stop Adrien from believing.

"We can figure it out," he said, voice full of what he hoped didn't sound like faux confidence. "If we can defeat akuma on a near daily basis, then we can find a way to get this to work, right? We're a team in and out of the masks."

"I hope so, Chat Noir," Ladybug said. She hugged her knees to her chest and rested her head upon them, eyes cast wistfully at the city below. "I haven't told anyone besides my parents and one friend that I plan on moving out yet. I don't know how I'm going to tell my other friends, because they're going to want to visit, and, well...they don't know I'm Ladybug."

Adrien hadn't really given any thought about friends visiting. What would he do if Nino randomly turned up to hang out and he and Ladybug were both home? Would she have to hide in her room the entire time—pretend she wasn't there? That would be tough, and unfair to his partner. It would be her place too, and Adrien didn't want to force her to stay locked in one room just because he had a guest.

"Maybe we can plan around it?" he offered, voice cracking slightly at the end of his question. "You know, make a day where I can hang out with my friends at our place, you can hang with yours...whichever one of us has company gets a few hours alone at the apartment and the other can have a day out or something. I dunno."

A groan rose from beside him. Adrien looked over to see Ladybug throwing herself backwards against the panels of the roof with a soft clunk. "This is so hard," she whined, draping her forearm over her face. "Why can't stuff like this be easier? I just want to move in with my best friend. That's all I want."

Adrien smiled at his partner's dramatics and reached over to pat her on the shoulder with a chuckle in his throat. "We could just disobey our kwamis and drop the transformations right now and be done with it."

"Chat." Ladybug's expression flattened. She glowered at him from underneath her arm. "No way."

"Hey," he laughed with a shrug, "it was just a simple suggestion." Standing up, he brushed his suit off and stretched, mouth opening in a wide yawn before he placed his hands on his hips and let his gaze fall down to the world below. Cars flowed down the street like a river of red and yellow beams. People walked along the sidewalk, entering and exiting shops left and right. In the distance, Adrien could see the Eiffel Tower's lights switch on just as the sky grew dark, and the sound of a jet zooming above caused his ears to twitch.

He needed to be heading home soon. He had a dinner with his father to attend to within an hour. The news of his leave had to be broken somehow, and he'd thought a peaceful dinner would be a nice way to ease into it. He'd admittedly been surprised his father had accepted his invitation for a "family dinner" on such short notice.

"You know," Adrien began. "I think we'll be okay, Ladybug. I know we have quite a bit of legal stuff to figure out, but what's a few signatures and adult conversations? In the end, it'll be worth it. We'll have our own place and be able to do whatever we want. I could eat cereal at four in the morning and nobody would judge me."

"I would," Ladybug snorted. She kicked her legs over the edge of the building and as her eyes met his, she blessed him with a smile. "I think we'll be okay, too. But I have this feeling that even though I am an adult, I'm not-" she paused to laugh, "-I'm definitely not ready to be one. I mean, learning how to do my taxes was hard enough. How do I take care of a place that's mine? How do I handle that responsibility?"

"Same way you do now, I guess," Adrien said as he sat back down. "Wash the dishes after you use them, take out the trash every night, clean your room once a week and don't leave the oven on while you're out. That's what you do to keep a place clean and safe, right?"

Not that he would know. He'd had people to clean up after him all of his life.

(He was too embarrassed to admit that he had no idea how to use a washing machine.)

"I'm warning you now," Ladybug cautioned. "I'm going to set the apartment on fire. Whichever one we choose, it's going down in flames because of me. That or I'll flood the place."

Cocking one of his felt ears, Adrien laughed. So much for reassuring her. "Jeez, Buginette. Have some faith in yourself, okay? Also in me. I can totally keep you from igniting the kitchen or something."

"How? You have no idea how clumsy I am at times."

"I seem to recall that the first time we met, you called yourself maladroit after nearly giving me a concussion with your yo-yo."

Ladybug grinned as she playfully punched him in the side. "You shut your mouth."

"Meowch," Adrien snickered as he rubbed the spot she'd assaulted. Despite her best efforts to be gentle, it still hurt. "You know, I change my mind. I think living with you is gonna be unbearfurble. Absolutely catastrophic. Pawful. A hissterical-"

Ladybug buried her head within her palms and groaned. "Oh my god, one more pun and I'm going to punt you across the city, Chat Noir, I swear to god-"

"Wait," he pleaded, laughter in his voice, "one more, one more. It'll be appawling-"

Adrien squawked as Ladybug began to push him off of the edge of the roof. Oh, now he'd done it. He'd punned too much. He had punned one pun too many. Somehow, he had always known this was the way he would die: from puns. His fate was sealed. Done. Completed. Do not pass go, do not collect the twenty euro reward.

"Imagine the headlines," Adrien said, clapping a hand over his head dramatically as his partner attempted to throw him off of the music shop they'd been resting upon. "Paris' most beloved hero, Chat Noir, was murdered to death last night by renowned super-heroine Ladybug. He was thrown off a building around seven P.M.-"

"Murdered to death," Ladybug guffawed. She paused her attempts at homicide and placed her hands on her hips to squint up at him, chest heaving with laughter. "I'm pretty sure murder and death aren't mutually exclusive!"

"You would know," Adrien retorted with a toothy grin. "You're about to murder me."

(As if Ladybug would ever purposefully harm him.)

"Chat, this is only a two story building," Ladybug deadpanned. "Besides, you have your baton to break your fall. Also your fat ego."

"I take offense to that."

The heel of Adrien's boot slipped on the edge of the roof and he wobbled, teetering over the edge with his arms flailing. His heart leaped and he gasped, but just as he was about to fall Ladybug caught him by his bell. Adrien smirked down at her and felt a flutter in her chest as she returned the expression almost just as flirtatiously.

"How many times am I gonna save your ass, chaton?" Ladybug asked, slowly pulling him down by his bell so she could look him in the eye. "Isn't this the third time this week?"

Adrien's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. He loved how she teased. Their faces were so close he could practically taste her breath on his lips.

Leaving her question unanswered, Adrien instead chose to grin as his reply. "To be fair, you were the one who attempted to murder me over too many puns."

Ladybug snickered. "I only dislike them because they're terrible. Now, if they were good puns, maybe I'd have a different mindset."

"You know," he said as Ladybug grasped what was essentially the zipper to his suit, "when we finally move into our place, I'm gonna get those magnetic fridge letters and wake up every morning around five A.M. to make a horrible cat pun out of them, just so you get to wake up to a new one every. Single. Day."

"You evil, evil boy," Ladybug snorted. She let go of his bell—which jingled merrily—and crossed her arms, sticking her tongue out in a very mature fashion. "I'll just take those puns and rearrange the letters to make bad words."

"Of course you would," Adrien said, to which Ladybug nodded proudly. "That's why I love you so much."

"Because I would make bad words out of other words?"

He booped her nose with the tip of his finger. "Because you're so creative."

"Stop." Ladybug waved his hand away. She feigned annoyance, but the smile on her face convinced Adrien she felt otherwise. "Shouldn't you be getting home? I thought you told me you had an important dinner with your dad to get to."

"I do," he admitted. "But can't I just enjoy my Lady's company for a moment longer?" Reaching out for her hand, he grabbed it within his own and nuzzled his face against her palm. Even through the fabric of her suit he could feel how warm her skin was. It felt so nice against his cheek…if only he could keep it there.

Ladybug pulled her hand back, pink lips stretched into a sweet smile. "Go on, kitty. Can't be late for dinner."

"Beautiful and punctual. You're out to steal my heart."

Ladybug rolled her eyes. "Leave already, fuzzbutt."

"I'm going, I'm going." Adrien blew her a kiss and stood, walking to the edge of the roof as he made to leave. He hopped onto the ledge, did an exuberant pose just to get some giggles out of his Lady, and extended his baton to his full height before bounding into the air.

Landing on the roof adjacent, he paused mid-crouch and froze as he remembered he'd had a very important question to ask before he left.

"Wait!" he called. He did a one-eighty and leaped right back next to Ladybug, who raised her brow at his speedy return. "I forgot to ask: did you decide between the two apartments yet?"

"Sort of," Ladybug said. She placed her yo-yo back on her waist, which she'd produced as soon as Adrien had left.

"Well?" Adrien asked. One of his black ears twitched with interest.

Ladybug's gaze fell downcast. "I know which one I want, but really, I don't want you paying more per month than I am, Chat-"

"Your happiness is important."

"I'd be happier if you weren't covering most of the rent."

"I honestly don't mind," Adrien assured her. "Look, if it makes you feel any better, I prefer the bigger place too. I've kind of lived in a big house all of my life and to be honest, I would feel super cramped in the cheaper apartment." He reached up to rub at the back of his neck. "But ultimately what I care about most is you being comfortable. If you feel you would be better off in the small place, then-"

"I don't like the small place," Ladybug admitted, quite stubbornly. "Well, I mean I do, but it's just...we would have no room. And since we can't reveal ourselves we really need the space…"

"You've got your pouty face on," Adrien said. He smiled, offering a hand to help his Lady up onto the ledge. She took it and climbed up, but crossed her arms as soon as she righted herself and looked away with her lower lip jutted out.

"I am not pouty," she pouted.

Adrien poked her cheek. "C'mon, Mlle. Pouty Face...tell me the truth. What is it you really want?"

"Food," she muttered, not meeting his gaze. "It's past dinner time and you should be home with your dad."

Adrien laughed. Was she avoiding the subject?

"Besides food," he said. "Which apartment can you see yourself being happier in?"

Ladybug murmured something under her breath. She kicked a stray pebble off of the roof and turned her back to him.

"What was that?" Adrien asked.

She mumbled the same unintelligible reply as before. Her lips were sealed and the brow of her mask was lowered in irritation, and Adrien had to resist the urge to squeal at how absolutely adorable she was in that moment.

Oh, she was too damn cute. She was so cute when she pouted and she was so cute when she wanted something but was too embarrassed to say it.

Was it that hard to admit that she liked the spacious apartment more than the other? Because it was pretty easy for him. If only he could get it out of her.

"Bug-Bug," Adrien whined. He wrapped his arms around her from behind and rested his chin upon her shoulder, head butting into her jaw. "Come on, you can tell me."

"Okayyyy," she admitted with a huff and a stomp of her foot. "Okay, okay. I like the expensive place better, okay? I just feel really bad because if I can't contribute as much as you can, then I-"

Walking around to face her, Adrien pressed a clawed finger to her lips and leaned down to her eye level. "Hey," he said. "Don't you worry your pretty little head, Ladybug. If it's really bugging you that much-" he snorted as her expression soured at his pun, "-then we can figure something out. But have you made your decision? Because I've made mine."

Ladybug hesitated. She blinked, her gaze lowering to the floor...before she met his eyes and smiled. "Yeah. Yeah, I have."

"Good." Grabbing her hand, Adrien placed a kiss to her knuckles. "I've gotta go now, but tomorrow we can meet at the Tower and talk some more, okay? No matter what, the only thing that's important to me is your happiness. Even if we end up in a cramped, one-bedroom apartment with no heat, I'll be happy so long as you are."

Much to his delight, Ladybug blushed. "Fine," she said, looking away. "But we're meeting at six P.M. tomorrow on the dot, and we're going to figure this out. We're a team no matter what, right? Akuma fighting, apartment hunting...both deadly, deadly forces." Her lips quirked upwards into a smile. "I'm actually really excited."

"Me too, 'Bug," Adrien said. "Me too."

Ladybug pulled away from him and gave him a lighthearted shove. "Now go on," she said, grinning. "Go meet your dad and have some father-son bonding time. Talk about cats or Camembert or whatever it is you do."

"Wow," Adrien laughed. He grabbed his baton and gave her a wave. "I'll have you know that the Camembert isn't for me or my dad. It's for Plagg, and you know that."

"Tell Plagg I think he's gross."

"He'd take that as a compliment, Ladybug! You'll inflate his ego-filled head with that talk!"

Ladybug threw her head back with a chortle. "Go already! Your dad's gonna be sitting at wherever it is you live waiting on your slow butt!"

"Fine, fine." With a salute, Adrien extended his baton and prepared to leap. "Goodnight, my Lady. I'll see you tomorrow."

Smiling, Ladybug waved. "Get outta here, you silly cat."

"I'm going," Adrien chuckled. With one last kiss to her hand, he was off into the night, mind already reeling with fantasies about what living with his Lady would bring. The only thing that spoiled those wonderful thoughts was what events would occur during dinner with his father. Cold stares, an entirely one-sided conversation...the possibilities were endless.

His heart, however, pulled him towards the hope that the evening would go well, and that breaking the news would be as easy as pie.

#ladynoir #miraculous ladybug #ml #ladybug #chat noir #ml fic #ml fanfiction #a simple suggestion #my writing #my fics #my writings #im gonna start doing links to continue reading on ao3 #bc the readmores here get annoying #dont Like Em #my fic

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