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#ignoring the fact that I said Mr. Mask doesn’t talk
ssecond-hand-faith · 4 months
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Happy pride month
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Hey, hello. Any chance I can get a nsfw hc or a confession of love with mr Compress? (Or both) 😁
I love this man so much.
YES ugh i love him so much too you have no idea 😭💕
i started writing this as general / romantic headcanons before realizing you asked for NSFW so uh, surprise! you got so much more content now! SDKFJHSDF blame (or praise) my adhd for not fuckin comprehending the entire question first
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Mr. Compress General / Romantic / NSFW headcanons
This post contains NSFW content, so minors DNI! [not to mention mans is like, 32 yrs old so y'all shouldn't be shipping urself w/ him anyway]
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General
This man is eccentric - that's a fact. So of course he’s likely to talk with big flowery words and large hand gestures to accentuate his topic of conversation - regardless of how much or little needed to be said
Like I said, he talks with his hands, A LOT, and he also likes to walk around or pace while he talks as well
Probably has ADHD but that’s likely just me projecting lmao
Obviously a theatre guy, adores musicals and old fashioned plays
If he were to have a Spotify it would be full of musical theater show tunes, both modern and retro
Everyone says he’s inept at technology, but I say that's just modern tech. He’s got an old laptop, a CD player, an old MP3 player (filled with musical show tunes and other indie stuff), and of course: a Nokia
He has a modern smartphone courtesy of the League, but he only uses it for phone calls and texts since he has no idea how nor want to use anything else on it unless necessary
Somehow both a fashion icon and disaster. Theatre kids, y’know?
Really only calls himself an old man due to the fact he talks like he just got transported from the Victorian era; because seriously, being in your 30s is not at all old
Despite always having his face covered, he takes great care in his complexion and appearance. Lots of skincare products, lotions, soaps, creams, etc.
Before the whole ordeal with the League, he would always join a community theater as a hobby! He adored doing silly little play sketches for charity or volunteering as a drama coach. He even directed some small local plays himself! (Under a pseudonym, of course)
Romantic
I headcanon him as gay, or at the very least bi/pan with a strong lean towards men
Love language is words of affirmation and gift giving! I mean, he’s such a talker that his love for speech is bound to extend to his partner. And he’s a master thief, so of course he’s going to steal only the best for his lover. They just have to say the word, and it’s in front of them the next day
Such a romantic, in the most classy yet extravagant way. Romantic candle lit dinner? Of course! But it’s at the top of the tallest building in the city with a gorgeous view of the moonlit ocean and bustling city all at once
Will absolutely do the cheesy magician move of pulling flowers out of his sleeve or hat and bows as he presents them to his partner, and no matter how many times he does this - which is at LEAST twice a week - his partner will always find it so charming
His partner will hopefully be willing to deal with his criminal record that only continues to grow, because he doesn’t plan on stopping
And if his partner wishes or does work alongside him as a thief/League villain? Incredible! Romantic! It’s like a Bonnie and Clyde type duo!
Just as long as his partner understands that he can and WILL compress them into a marble if things get too dangerous
Doesn’t often get jealous, or at least doesn’t make it obvious. When it IS obvious, it’s honestly adorable because he gets so pouty and clingy. Might even purposefully put on his frowning mask just to make a point, especially if his partner still hasn’t noticed how awfully and truly upset and ignored he is :’(
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Below here are the NSFW headcanons!
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NSFW
Tops and bottoms equally, but leans towards service dom most times. However, it’s VERY easy to get him into a submissive, begging mess
With a few well placed touches and hushed words whispered in his ear, his partner can have them as putty in their hands
While he’s a romantic and would prefer being slow and intimate, he’s also secretly into quickies and fast, yet passionate sex
His kinks are a little all over the place and in some cases a bit strange. While he’s into more mainstream stuff like sensory play and roleplay, he’s also into things like frotting, clothed sex, semi-public sex, consensual exhibitionism, orgies, hands-free orgasms, using quirks during sex, all that sorta stuff
More than willing to wear the mask during sex - loves the sense of mystery it can bring
Before he was with his partner, he was super into alley quickies with complete strangers
Buzzed/drunk sex is something he likes, just with how often he drinks wine or champagne
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mizunetzu · 4 years
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ok ok so my request 👉🏻👈🏻
it’s the most obvious thing but i have a full crush on bakugou, so can you please write about him x male reader, where the reader is like.. having nightmares or almost doesn’t sleep because of his quirk (idk like maybe he can hear something special or predict anything bad, doesn’t really matter) but feels safe around bakugou so he always falls asleep around him or even oN him and katsuki is like “😡(❤️)shit whatever” and the reader is kinda shy about that but totally ok with their friends being like “wow bro that’s kinda gay :> ” because he is comfortable with “oh that’s because i aM the gay✌🏻” and his classmates love him and everything and would never mock.. but one time someone from another class was really really rude bcs of that or said that katsuki hates it so the reader starts to avoid bakugou and bakugou geTS MAD about it because reader is just his and no one else’s >:0 maybe a little confession from him in the end, maybe some.. *gay coughing* angy k*ss from him
please make it angsty but with a fluffy ending please please and thank you very much in advance💙 sorry if it’s too big i can’t explain my thoughts properly thaha
Bruh I just realized how long this request is 💀💀 also look at me, writing it like decades after you requested it 😭 pls enjoy I’m actually quite proud of it (also isn’t that gif perfect hahah get it bc the prompt was abt like sleeping and bakugou’s sleeping and-yeah I’ll let u read now)
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Bakugou x reader - Angry Insomniacs
⚠️Warnings - mild arguing, it’s not that bad
Pronouns - male, he/him
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“Why are you always fuckin’ sleeping on me?”
It first started during the Sports Festival. The chicken race and cavalry battle really took a toll on (Y/n), and he was suffering harsh quirk drawbacks. That, being drowsiness.
Somewhere on the stands, (y/n’s) eyes grew heavier and heavier until he realized he had fallen asleep. He also didn’t realized until he woke up that no one disturbed him when he was near Bakugou. Be it fear, or just plain respect, (Y/n) seemed to get the best rest when he was with Bakugou. Not even Iida dared to wake him up when he dosed off on Bakugous shoulder.
He always made it a point to be in Bakugous vicinity when ever he could, taking naps with his head buried in his arms next to Bakugou at lunch, or having his head resting on his shoulder in the dorms.
“Oi! Don’t drift off on me!”
“Mm? Sorry, Bakugou.”
(Y/n) rubbed his eyes as he weakly pushed off the common room couch, stretching and yawning as he did so. “Can I sleep in your room tonight?”
“N-no, dumbass! Fuck kinda question is that, shit-for-brains?!”
“I’ll see you there later then, Bakugou.” (Y/n) gave a slight nod, Bakugou practically foaming at the mouth already, before trotting off the continue his nap in his own room.
Before heading to his room though, he walked into the kitchen to grab a post-nap time snack. Tsuyu, who was already digging in the fridge, stepped back so (Y/n) could grab whatever he wanted.
Tsu eyed (Y/n’s) slightly tousled hair. “Did you take another nap on bakugou-chan? Kero.”
(Y/n) hummed out a “yes.” Tsu hummed back in acknowledgment. Kaminari and Kirishima, unintentionally, started listening in from their place in the kitchen after hearing Bakugou being mentioned.
Tsuyu put a finger to her lip. “Ne, (Y/n)-chan, why do you always take naps on Bakugou-chan? It’s always him, kero, and you go out of your way to make sure it’s only him.”
“Why?” (Y/n) pulled off the carton of milk stubbornly hanging on to the fridge. “Because I like Bakugou. Duh. And I sleep better near people I like.
Kaminari gasped comically while Kirishima sputtered and choked on his words. Not just listening anymore, Kaminari but in. “L-like? Like, ‘like’-like?!”
Kaminari and Kirishima joined Tsuyu and (Y/n) near the fridge. (Y/n) nodded out an “mm-hm.”, whilst grabbing a cup from the cabinet.
“So you’re like...” Kirishima made wild, indecipherable, gestures with his hand. Eventually, after realizing no one was taking the hint, brought his voice down to a whisper.
“...like...gay..?”
“Yeah. Pretty much.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell us?!” Kaminari grasped at his blond hair. (Y/n) thought for a moment, poured himself a glass of milk, and shrugged.
“I don’t know. You never asked.”
“And you’re so comfortable just telling us now? Why, kero-kero?”
“Because I’m gay as fuuuuuck.” (Y/n) took a swig of milk like it was a shot of whiskey. “And it’s not like it was a secret or anything.”
“Though I don’t think Bakugou knows. He’s too angry about me sleepin’ on him all the time to actually care about me.”
(Y/n) polished off his glass of milk. He set the cup down gently into the sink. “Eh, it’s not like I actually care for what he thinks about me.”
“See ya, I’m gonna finish my nap.”
“Uh-bye”
“Bye-bye.”
“Bye, kero.”
———
(Y/n) yawned as his head lolled off of Bakugou’s shoulder. He hissed, dusting off his shoulder angrily.
“Go sleep somewhere else!”
“I’m just goin’ to the bathroom, Bakugou, I’ll be back. Keep your shoulder warm for me.”
(Y/n) weakly stood up from his chair, and sluggishly walked out of the cafeteria. Damn, his feet felt heavy. Maybe if he hurried to the bathroom, he’d get back in time to catch a few more minutes of sleep before Bakugou exploded on him or lunch ended.
(Y/n’s) shoulder accidentally caught on someone else’s, making him stumble back and rub his shoulder. Monoma tilted his chin up in a mocking fashion.
“Ara? Is that (L/n) (Y/n) from class 1-A I see?”
(Y/n) nodded, only half processing his words as he continued on his way to the bathroom. Monoma followed somewhat behind, spewing words and one-liners that went in one ear and out the other. That is, until,
“Honestly, you would’ve thought that angry blond kid would’ve told you by now”.
(Y/n’s) ear perked up. He halted to a stop, Monoma following suit and shoving his hands smugly in his pockets. “What’s this about Bakugou?”
“Oh? He really didn’t tell you, huh? That’s...” Monoma stifled a condescending snicker. “...surprising.”
(Y/n) stepped closer. “C’mon man, tell me what?”
Monoma sighed. “Well,”
“I heard that Mr. Blasty, matter-o-factly,” Monoma jabbed his pointer finger into (Y/n’s) chest. “Really, really hates it when you sleep on, or near him. Actually,”
“I think he just hates you in general.”
(Y/n) furrowed his brows. He’s lying. He’s lying. He likes him, doesn’t he? Bakugou likes him, or else he wouldn’t have lead him on for so long, right?
Because he wouldn’t let just anyone sleep on his shoulder...right?
“You’re lying.”
“Well, believe what you want, honestly,” Monoma made a show of crossing his arms dramatically. “But you should see the way he shit-talks and glares at you in you’re sleep. It’s not like he can push you off though, you’re ‘just so persistent you’ll never leave him the fuck alone’.”
(Y/n) shoved his hands in his pockets. Monoma raised his hands in defense. “His words, not mine.”
(Y/n) turned on his heel and began to speed walk to the bathroom. Monoma yelled out from his spot in the empty hallway.
“Oh? You don’t want to hear what he thinks about your little crush on him?”
(Y/n) froze. He was under the assumption that everyone but him knew, could he be wrong? He pressed his lips into a fine line, turning around as composedly as he could. Though, he couldn’t mask the fearful curiosity in his eyes.
Monoma grinned. It was an unpleasant, sarcastic grin, one that didn’t look peaceful or pleasing at all.
“Well, I doubt that there’s anything to to say at all, so does it really ma-“
“What...what does he say about me?” (Y/n’s) voice quivered. He knew he was falling into Monoma’s trap, that he was just trying to provoke him, that he was looking for any kind of reaction, but his curiosity got the best of him. It really did, because Monoma’s words stabbed spears into (Y/n’s) heart, word by word.
“Blasty thinks it’s fucking disgusting how you like him, like, as another dude. Like honestly, he thinks you take him for an idiot for thinking he actually didn’t know! And the fact you sleep so close to him know full well you want to get in his pants?! He thinks you’re a pervert! A lazy shit! A fag! Ahahaha!”
Monoma loud cackles were cut short when he suddenly slumped over. He sunk to the ground, revealing Kendo, holding one big hand up and the other to her waist. She most likely knocked Monoma out once she heard his condescending retorts from the cafeteria.
Kendo sighed, bending down the haul Monoma’s arm over her shoulder. Her heavy glare softened once she caught sight of (Y/n’s) buggy eyed face starting at the ground where Monoma was.
“Sorry...he didn’t say anything too harsh, right?” Kendo’s words were gentle, but they sounded practically inaudible to (Y/n’s) traumatized ears.
He wordlessly staggered past her, heading back into the cafeteria to grab his lunch and sit elsewhere. He supposed he wouldn’t bother Bakugou anymore. Since he’s so damn ‘persistent’, he figured he’d stop bothering him for the rest of the day.
He wished he wasn’t so curious about what Bakugou thought of him. Like people say, ignorance is bliss. He could’ve gone his whole high school career without knowing Bakugou hated his every being. How was he going to face him in class knowing every pointer glare, every scoff, every insult was genuine?
(Y/n) felt his throat tighten. For the first time in years, (L/n) (Y/n) was fully awake.
——
It was the first time in many months that (Y/n) didn’t sit in the seat next to Bakugou, napping in his presence. He’d done it every day no fail, that is until this week. Actually, this is the 6th consecutive day he didn’t take a nap at all.
(Y/n) sat placid in his assigned seat, eyes wide and trying to keep awake. He couldn’t sleep without thinking of Bakugou, and every time he did it was always him scoffing and turning his back on him.
Every few seconds, (Y/n) would jolt harshly in his seat, rocking back and forth like a drug addict in withdrawal. He stared at his desk with eyes that could kill someone, and he dug his hands into his forearms to keep himself somewhat awake.
He didn’t hear Kirishima calling his name until he snapped his fingers infront of his face. The snap rang like a gunshot, surprising (Y/n) from his trance so badly he jolted back like he got electrocuted. Kirishima raised an eyebrow.
“You...ok man...?”
(Y/n’s) dry eyes landed fixed onto Kirishima. He relaxed, and let out a breath he didn’t know he was taking. “M’fine...”
His voice cracked like it hadn’t been used for days. (Y/n) let his eyes drift back forward, hunching back over and huddling his body like he was trying to squeeze himself to death. When Kirishima gave him a skeptical glare and crossed his arms, (Y/n) let out a small “m’ just tired, that’s all...” and gave the most pathetic smile known to man.
“If you’re so tired,” Mina, rested her arms on the back of (Y/n’s) chair. “Why don’t you sleep on Bakugou like you do every morn-“
“NO! I-I can’t do that!” (Y/n) whipped his head back, gripping the back of his chair so hard his hand turned white. Mina and Kirishima flinched, noticeably caught off guard with his sudden outburst. “I...can’t...I can’t do that...”
(Y/n) suddenly looked very awake, contrasting the way he looked like he was struggling to keep his eyes open the whole time they were in class.
(Y/n’s) breath steadied as he shut his mouth awkwardly. “M’sorry...for yelling...didn’t mean to...”
(Y/n) scrubbed at his eyes. The rush of adrenaline was already wearing off. Mina set her dainty pink hand on (Y/n’s) hunched form. “Why not...?”
“I just can’t.”
(Y/n) said nothing more. He went back to his occasional jolts awake and scrubbing his heavy eyes every 2 minutes. Kirishima sighed, shaking his head towards Bakugou, before shrugging his shoulders then forming an ‘X’ with his hands.
Bakugou clicked his tongue angrily, turning and facing back forward in his seat.
——
(Y/n) was practically seeing stars by the end of hero’s class.
It was a relatively simple assignment, 1 on 1 sparring, but it caused a lot of quirk use.
He fought both his tired eyes and Midoryia, but ultimately failing due to his harsh quirk drawbacks. Midoryia barely had to break a sweat to have (Y/n) come toppling down.
(Y/n) was ushered back into the horde of students murmuring “don’t mind” and “you did great!”, but he just slithered past and stood a few feet away from them, all the way in the back of the field.
All might was explaining something (Y/n) couldn’t quite hear. Not only because he was standing so far away, but because his hearing had been considerably wonky, not to mention the hissing, ringing sound irritating his eardrums.
“Oi.”
And even if the ringing had stopped and he could hear, his brain was too tuckered out to remember anything past five seconds ago.
“Oi!”
Gosh, speaking of his brain-
“OI! SHIT-FOR-BRAINS! YOU GONNA KEEP IGNORING ME OR YOU GONNA TELL ME WHY YOU’VE BEEN AVOIDIN’ ME?!”
Bakugou set off a small explosion. The blast wasn’t nearly as loud or powerful as in combat, but to a tired mans ears, it sounded like nukes. The ringing in (Y/n’s) ears spiked, and he cupped his ears tightly.
“B-Bakugou, nows not-“
“OH, YOU TRYNA TUNE ME OUT BY COVERIN’ YOUR EARS NOW?!” Another explosion. Bakugou’s gauntlets had been out for repairs since his last hero training, so (Y/n) could clearly see the glowing red and yellow spark from his fist. The ringing spiked again. His vision burned with sparks.
(Y/n) winced, saying nothing, and brought his hands to rub at his eyes. Bakugou eyebrow twitched.
“STOP IGNORING ME!”
Bakugou brought his hand out, his gloved hand starting to glow red with his next explosion. (Y/n) couldn’t take it anymore.
He stumbled forward, and grabbed Bakugou’s wrist. He shoved it out of the way, but his hand still ignited and set off a blast that propelled them straight to the ground.
“G-get off-a me!” Bakugou tried pushing (Y/n) off with his free hand.
(Y/n) pinned Bakugou’s glowing right hand by the wrist, using his other to hold down his other shoulder. (Y/n) would’ve never done something as ballsy and stupid as this, but he was too tired, too done, too much in pain to care.
“What are you actually trying to say!? All that stupid extra yelling and petty insults, they get you fucking nowhere! Spit it out! Or does trying to intimidate every single fucking person you meet just self-satisfaction?!”
Bakugou growled. He grabbed at (Y/n’s) shoulders, pushing off of him and pinning (Y/n) to the ground in his place.
“Then what about you, huh?!” Bakugou was angrily spitting at (Y/n’s) face. “Why the fuck did you stop getting enough sleep for your quirk?! Are you just that dumb that you stay up at night?!”
“I don’t wanna hear it from a stupid fucker like you, who can’t even take care of himself!”
(Y/n) hissed. He freed his dominant hand from Bakugou’s vice grip and pushed at Bakugou’s face, grabbing a fistful of his hair. “All you ever do is shit talk! Shut up! No one thinks it’s fucking cool!”
“What the hell are you even talking about?!”
The two wrestled on the ground, angrily grabbing and tugging at each other, and rolling around on the floor. There were shouts of “get Aizawa-no, get midnight-sensei!” and “All might, stop them!”, but the two were so caught up in their fight they couldn’t hear anything.
“Can’t you ever learn to mind your fucking Business?!”
“What the fuck does that even have to do with this!”
(Y/n) flipped Bakugou over one more time. He pushed him down by the forehead, pushing his head down into the ground while Bakugou flailed and kicked from underneath him.
“SHUT UP! WHY DO YOU EVEN FUCKIN’ CARE, BAKUGOU?! WHY DO...w-why do...wh...”
A sweet, sweet smell flooded (Y/n’s) senses. It smelt relaxing, tantalizing, it smelled like sleep. It smelled like sleep. He wanted to sleep. He wanted to sleep so bad. Maybe he could just...
(Y/n) slowly sank from his spot on top of Bakugou, flopping on top of his body and going completely slack. Bakugou’s eyes widened, and he covered his nose.
Midnight strutted from above the two, waving away a few stray wisps of her mist. Bakugou hacked out a new breath, while (Y/n) laid on top of him, peacefully asleep for the first time in days.
“Well, it seems like you two already know without me saying it.” Midnight motioned over to two small robots carrying a stretcher. “I’ll just take him to recovery girl and he should wake up in-“
Bakugou pursed his lips and wrapped his arms around (Y/n’s) sleeping figure when Midnight extended her arm towards them. He tightened his arms around (Y/n).
“I’ll do it. S-since this piece of shit attacked me first and...I’ll just do it-!”
Midnight eyed him knowingly, before waving him off and mumbling something about ‘youth’.
——
(Y/n’s) eyes fluttered open. His body felt like it was broken in every way possible. It was so sore, it hurt even thinking about moving. (Y/n) laid there, with his eyes half open, contemplating whether or not he should close them again.
Would he be able to sleep, though? Even if he’d started sleeping near Bakugou as a ‘don’t-wake-me-up’ measure, it slowly stopped being just that and more a matter of he felt safe and comfortable around him. In a way, he’s become a bit dependent on him, which is probably a bad thing, but he didn’t care.
Sleeping with Bakugou felt best. But that wasn’t an option, now was it?
(Y/n) pursed his lips, an involuntary groan rumbling from his tired vocal cords. He continued staring at the blinding nurse office lights, staring until he saw spots in his vision.
“Stop doing that-do you wanna go fuckin’ blind?”
(Y/n) flinched. He hated the way that familiar, aggravated voice still stirred butterflies into his stomach. He glanced to his side, as if to make sure he wasn’t just hearing things.
He met eyes with Bakugou.
“Bout’ time you fuckin’ woke up. Been waitin’ forever, shit-for-brains.”
(Y/n) averted his eyes back up to the blinding floodlights. Bakugou scowled. “Oi! Don’t ignore m-“
“How long were you here for?”
Bakugou went silent. It was his turn to avert his eyes, albeit more angrily.
“...I was here since you fuckin’ fainted in class, idiot. I even carried your stupid body here from the dumbass carrier bots.”
(Y/n’s) eyes softened, unlike Bakugou’s, who glared at the floor just beside the chair he was sitting in. (Y/n) checked the big black clock mounted on top of Recovery Girl’s desk.
It was 6:00 pm.
If Bakugou was telling the truth, he’d been sitting there waiting for him to wake up for 4 hours straight.
“Bakugou-its been hours since class ended-you should be at the dorms by now-! Why did you-“
“Well if you told me why you suddenly started avoiding me we wouldn’t be here right now!”
(Y/n) let his mouth fall closed. Bakugou scoffed. “Well?!”
(Y/n) opened his mouth, but it clamped shut when Monoma’s words echoed in his mind. Bakugou looked at him with an expectant face.
“I can’t tell you.”
“WH-“ Bakugou sputtered angrily. “COURSE YOU CAN! THE FUCKS STOPPING YOU!”
“Nothing I-I just can’t!”
“WHY!? WHY NOT?!”
“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!”
“OK AND?! I LOVE YOU TOO!”
“THEN WHATS THE PROBLEM HERE!” (Y/n) shouted, before he cupped his mouth in realization. Bakugou’s eyes went wide aswell. “Wait I didn’t mean that-“
“YEAH! WHATS THE FUCKIN PROBLEM HERE?!” Bakugou recovered from his initial shock, already back to yelling. (Y/n) furrowed his brows with a blush.
“Wh..wait so-“
“I LIKE YOU, YOU LIKE ME, SO WHY THE FUCK DID YOU STOP SLEEPING ON ME?!”
“Wait but...” (Y/n’s) voice was barely above a whisper. “Don’t you, y’know...not like it...when I do that-?”
“DUMBASS! WHERE’D YOU GET THAT FROM?!” It seemed like Bakugou got angrier and angrier each passing second. It was hard to tell what (Y/n) found so attractive about him.
“From...from Monoma...?”
Bakugou looked angrier than ever. (Y/n) raised an eyebrow. “YOU-I CAN’T BELIEVE-! I-! FUCK IT!”
Bakugou snarled and practically shoved his face onto (Y/n’s), angrily stealing his breath away with a kiss. The kiss, surprisingly, was soft and gentle, despite Bakugou’s previous intensity. It seemed to calm Bakugou down, and cheer (Y/n) up.
The two slowly parted for air. It was quiet for a second, something that rarely happened near Bakugou.
“I thought you hated me...”
“W-why the fuck would I hate you...dumbass.” Bakugou rested his forehead on (Y/n’s) shoulder. His spiky tufts of blond hair tickling (Y/n’s) face.
“Because Monoma said so...?”
“I’m gonna kill that bastard.” Bakugou snarled, climbing into the cot (Y/n) was in. He pushed (Y/n) back down into the pillow, pulling up the white blanket and laying down next to him. He guided (Y/n’s) head-a tad bit forcefully-to his chest. “...after we sleep.”
Bakugou shut his eyes, half irritated and half embarrassed, while (Y/n) chuckled tiredly. He nuzzled his head into Bakugou’s chest.
“Goodnight, Bakugou.”
——
Extra:
Monoma walked into class 1-B the next morning. He yawned, still a bit tired, when he ran straight into someone.
“Hey, copycat fucker.”
Monoma looked up. The class was empty, with no one but Bakugou standing infront of him.
Fuck.
Needless to say, Bakugou got another 3 days of house arrest.
——————
Bru this was so long ong
2K notes · View notes
kkusuka · 4 years
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(i had to repost lol- it wasn’t showing up on my page)
this the request: part 3 of thiccy gf hcs ??? with kuroo, terushima, sakusa, and daichi and/or atsumu 🥺👉🏽👈🏽 i must be fed
i understand your need for them
and as a member of the thunder-thigh committee, i am happy to write about my fellow sexy women! (another 4:56 am ramble i refuse to delete)
part one
part 2 <3
i mixed this with this ask ;  Pt. 3 of the thicc af gf with Aone, Osamu, Kyotani, Daichi, Kuguri, and Terushima plz? 🥺
this got wayyyyyyyyy long
4, 685 words. my finger slipped?
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Kuroo tetsuro
this guy has been trying to get you since first year
he’s that dedicated
and you didn’t even notice, he was just a flirty friend who helped you with science
(even when he would practically put you in his lap while he went over things)
lo and behold, he finally got his chance during the third year culture festival
yeah as in he waited a whole three years for this
Eh, once again, had a whole pan to make you see him as your great future husband, aka the haunted house (a good excuse to have you hold onto him)
He has to give it to class 2-4, the did a damn good job, it was scary
Long story short you fell on top of him, boobs in face hands-on ass
~heaven~
Mans actually asked you to be his girlfriend right there, groping you and murmuring between your boobs. (he wouldn't have gotten up if the next group wasn’t approaching.)
From then on he’d literally do anything for the ass
He’s a big simp and we all know it.
Like When you wear shorts he has to ‘pull them down’ aka feel you up while pulling the hem of your shorts down ever so slightly.
Or when he gets on a knee right behind you to ‘tie his shoe’, but the school shoes have no laces.
He could be a bit more creative and he wanted to look under your skirt.
When he wants to cut the bull shit he’ll just lift the back of your skirt and rub around for a but, to hell with all the other kids in the hallway.
(did I mention that he puts things on the highest shelves so he can walk up behind you and practically dry hump you.)
Speaking of simp nation
You can't really wear anything without setting him off
Shorts drive him absolutely nuts, it's insane. But it isn't his fault that most of your shorts are spandex that cut off right at the beginning of your thighs, it's like a homemade booty lifter. He just can’t help but wanting to cop a feel.
Or the color red in general. It is ridiculous, the guy rips everything when he tries to take it off too. So that stunning red cocktail dress with the lace-up sides was not unwearable, and you only had it on for like 2 hours. And that was only because it was a friend's 18th birthday party you were both invited to.
(thanks to kuroo not letting you out of his arms you both were late and left early.)
((in his defense you looked like a full course meal and it was giving him severe blue balls, and he’s only seen you for a few minutes))
Halloween, you know. the one night you could dress up as anything. any you decide to go as a cat-girl in a maid costume. And you expected him to just take that sitting down? Hell no. the red thigh highs AND the corset middle? You're lucky it lasted as long as it did.
That my dear was bravery. His color. A cat. And a short skirt. With thigh highs!
And so, he did what he did all those other times, dragged you to sit on his lap, and opening your thighs, and like a good girl you’ll let him
If you could already tell, he gives no shits to whos watching, let ‘em see (they really never do but you get the point)
He’s also a prime thigh groper, especially when he wants to keep your legs open, he also loves thigh hic
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Terushima Yuji
Another shower-offer
You were already he's so why can't he let everyone know?
Speaking of you being his, he doesn't tell people how you guys don’t together, with good reason considering you practically beat him up
Not really but that’s what he calls it, basically he tried to get with one of your friends at a party.
She just happens to not be interested in men and has a wonderful girlfriend, so she was uncomfortable but couldn't tell him to leave her alone
So you took fate into your own hands, literally, you stole Fate from class 3-2’s drink and poured it on him before slapping him and telling him about how he was a pig.
And he fell in love, you looked like an angel, a really hot angel, it didn't help you were in a white dress either
And from then on he literally once or twice, got on his knees for you, asking to give him a chance.
Honestly, it got annoying, so you just agreed to make it go away. It did, but you also gained a perv of a boyfriend who has an insatiable love for your lower half
He’s a simple creature, do take caution of his fragile being
So that means all those times you bend over in front of him he was slowly cracking and trying to figure out where the nearest storage closet is.
He thought he was having heart palpitations when he saw you in the damn dress again, apparently, he didn't see all of it. Specifically the v-neck top, and the fact it only went to the end of your ass. Needless to say, he made sure to walk behind you on every staircase that you went on
Another set off is yoga legging, like the lululemon ones, that people wear all the time. They fit you great, really really great. They were supposed to work out in them???? Why were they so skin-tight????? And he also figured out that you wore things because of them. Instant nut.
How you ask, simple.
One time he saw your underwear line through the pants and he pointed them out, they did make it seem like your ass was super soft so he saw his chance and took it.
So the next time you wore them and he didn't see the lines he was like ??????
And thus began the “Yuji hunt for lineless underwear” and he found the thongs
And you received the fucking of your life soon after.
Oh! And there’s any time you go to the beach. Literally every time.
No cap.
The first time was when you wore a red one-piece and he practically went feral. It wasn't really a one-piece if it was see-through and had the lowest neckline on the planet.
Everyone was looking at you.
He practically fucked you on the beach but held off until you got back to the hotel room.
He’s way more forward when he wants to fuck, if you could imagine. He’ll just walk up to you and tell you he wants to get some, like right now.
If you can even ignore him, he’ll throw an arm around your waist and grope around your legs, all the way to the apex.
It is also not below him to try and get you off while still wearing underwear that he will be taking after.
(i didn't say anything about his stash off orgasm ruined underwear? My bad.)
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Sakusa Kiyoomi
Going beyond the fact he even has a girlfriend, y’know considering, but the fact that no one knew who you were until you showed up at nationals to cheer him on
(atsumu was even starting to think that you didn't exist and that poor kiyoomi just imagined you up, so can imagine his shock when you ran up to said boy after they won)
The whole dating thing wasn't the shocking part; it was the fact that you looked like you walked off of the Milan runway.
And you were wearing leggings and sakusa's jacket, all of a sudden everyone was interested in how that happened
It was a kind of a boring story, someone had spilled coffee in a shop that you both happen to be in
And he watched you offer the man the same disinfectant wipes that he uses!
And in the most sakusa way possible he followed you out of the shop and tried to talk to you.
An exchange of numbers and many awkward conversations (and boners) later, you were a couple.
Back to that hug, like the many others, he's let you have, it’s all just to feel how soft you were
But poor touch -starved sakusa doesn't know what to do with any of these pent up feelings.
And he has a loooooooot of them.
Multiple occasions have shaped the poor germ-boy into the horny-tornado he has become
so he’s not really into what you’re wearing, it’s more about what you’re doing
like when you wore the mask he bought you to one of his games, and you wore one of his alternate uniforms, but the kicker was how you stayed away from everyone and didn’t let a single person near you (or his shirt)
or when you helped him clean his dorm when he was doing his weekly deep clean
or when the two of you washed the dishes while trying to do one of those “try not to sing” challenges
(is it normal to get a boner when your girlfriend helps you clean? no?)
but, as much as he tries to remain emotionless on the subject, there are multiple exceptions to the “it’s not what she wears” whole thing
Like that violet puffy skirt, you wore to a study fate, the one with the white sweater? That one, the same one that he could see your panties, from anywhere he sat. and Every time you got up you would have to smooth it down to make the creases go down, but it was only ever really giving him a good idea about the shape of your ass.
(if he sees you in that skirt again he’s just going to fuck you in it)
The lesser-known horny-inducer, since he made you take it off within the first five minutes, was a dress! What kind of dress? A neon yellow see-through mesh dress. The bottom wasn’t what got him though, it was the fact that your white bra was clearly seen under the mesh top. Or maybe it was the way the skirt made your waist look super small, and how your hips looked so round and squeezable.
Yeah, no one else could experience you in that.
Not to sound like this, but sakusa is still averse to touch
BUT BUT BUT
That goes out the window when he wants to dance the devil's tango with you.
Mr. His way or no way shows up,  he does it every so slightly different
If it’s just the two of you, he’ll put a hand on your shoulder and he’ll push you to your knees. And he’ll pet your head and tell you what’s about to happen and advise you to listen like a good girl.
But in the instance you are in the presence of others, he’ll stand behind you and bring you super close to him, ass to dick. (maybe he’ll grind into you a bit, just to convince you to follow him) and he’ll throw a few words in about how much of a bitch in heat you are for getting turned on in front of all of these people.
It’s best to just do what he wants before he makes you cum in your underwear.
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Daichi Sawamura
oh my
you guys are the power thigh couple
powerful and defined mixed with soft and pillowy
In Fact, that’s literally how the two of you met, thanks to Tanaka and Nishinoya of course.
(let’s just pretend karasuno has a cheer squad, and you just happened to be the captain of said team)
So basically you were doing a favor for the student council, and you were supposed to ask how many third years, managers included, were on each team and each club in the school
Easy! Turns out not so much. You were still in your cheer practice uniform, which was the shortest spandex ever made, and a Karasuno school t-shirt that was ever so slightly too tight.
Anyway, you make it to the gym and open the door, and the little one, Yachi, saw you and literally screamed. (she was right by the door), and that alerted everyone else in the gym, which led to the bald boy and his short companion pushing you further into the gym.
But in the better sense, it did gain the attention of the captain! Just the exact moment he was in front of you someone pushed; your back and within a second, in some miracle like way, you both ended up on the floor and he ended up planked on top of you with a leg between your spread thighs.
Almost kissing nonetheless.
Then, like the gentleman he was, he got off and asked you if you alright and kneeled down and let you use his shoulder to try and stand back up.
You did get up, for a split second, Daichi still kneeling letting you use him as a step stool when a certain red-head was flung right into you and you went toppling forward.
Onto Daichi.
Onto Daichi's face.
Your thighs around his head.
His hands-on your ass.
Hand in his hair.  
He could sit there forever, you were frozen, everyone else was frozen.
You eventually climbed off and asked how many third years there were. But he just sat there, his hands hadn’t moved either, luckily Suga answered and you were on your way.
And Daichi still didn’t move, after that incident, you had begun to see him everywhere, and eventually, he just cut the shit and asked you out.
Daddy Daichi likes seeing you in literally anything from sweatshirts to lingerie.
His favorite was the brown buttoned pencil skirt and the white blouse, that you wore to a date. You were kind of overdressed for the ramen shop and after a walk, but he didn't even care. He was so thrown off by how turned on he was he couldn't speak in full sentences.
An example:
“Yeah, the food here is- boob, I-I mean great, not boob, great, yes, great.”
The second.
.
.
.
.
.
Was a bathrobe.
Can you see where I'm going with that? Simply you look hot.
His favorite part of the night was ripping it off of you.
And like the first time you met, he had his head in your thighs <3
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Atsumu Miya
You met poor atsumu at a party.
He tried to shoot his shot, y’know he sees a cute lady he’s just gotta try and show you what you could be getting
he had it all planned, he was going to walk up behind you and run his hands over your delicious curves and ask you if you were in need of any help
he doesn’t take into account that a having a random guy just start groping you and pressing himself behind a girl was panic-inducing
so when he dropped your waist, you freaked out and may or may not have punched him in the dick
while he was in a. world of pain you age to figure out what the hell had just happened to you
then you noticed him on the floor, and when he noticed you looking at him he put this forced cocky smirk on and gave you a “how you doing”
You took pity on the poor creature and helped him up and got him some ice, then conversed with him for the majority of the rest of the night.
And he just hasn't left you alone since
(and, you learned this far later, that he went so far to tell Sakusa and Kageyama all about you and how amazing you are, and has even sent them- more than one- picture
But in other news, he’s very horny
So really all that means is he always has his hands on you
Like during practice breaks when you're allowed to come down and talk to him for a bit, give him some things, but it normally just consists of him sitting on the bench and you standing in front of him.
While his hands rest on your hips and his face is shoved into the valley between your breasts, and he just sits and listens to you as you brush a hand through his hair.
Or sometimes, if he had been having a rough time, he’ll just have his hands under your skirt and he’ll feel around for a bit while grumbling about how people cant hit his sets
But for being the possessive bastard he is, he sure likes letting you wear all those outfits
Like the booty shorts and tank top, you wore to bring them food during the summer training camp. That same camp that the two of you disappeared at and he came back looking like he had won the lottery.
Or the cute little red dress you wore to your anniversary date? The one that made him have a hard-on the entire time you were at dinner. He knows the waiter remembers, he also bets the waiter remembers seeing him fucking you in the car when his shift was over.
And that time you wore his jersey to bed and sent him a picture of it. It was such a good picture that he made it his lock screen for everyone to see.
He just likes looking at you tbh.
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Aone Takanobu
you guys didn’t meet in some weird perverted way, it was actually really cute!
Not to sound creepy but he knew that you were in the garden club because you sat right in front of him in class
And since he didn't talk to anyone else in that class he was just content with listening, and so there he was
Standing outside of the garden club door holding his withering basil plant. Lost.
Lucky for him you were walking down the hallway and greeted him, looking all pretty and cute
You did help him realize that he was overwatering the basil and within a few weeks, it was back to life!
From that first time on, he came to the club room with you twice a week and walked home with you, just listening to all the random plant facts that you had harbored in your mind.
Eventually, with the help of the team, he asked you out, and you hugged him and said yes, and that was the beginning of the “oh god, y/n is way softer than I thought”
So he really just tries to be near you or be touching you at all times  
(i am also a firm believer that he likes to slow dance to classical music in your living room)
Like during lunch periods when you sit next to him and the second you finish eating hell push you to lean against him
And he’ll rub small circles on your hips and give you small innocent gropes
Or how he hugs your waist when you're doing literally anything, and he puts his head on top of your head while swaying
I can also tell you that Aone is a good singer
So he hums to you (I'm uwuing over my own headcanon lol)
He also really likes just running his hands along your body, so he likes when you wear the one-piece dresses so he has smooth sailing down your body
As a man of little words, he clearly has a more physical approach to getting you on the horny train
What I am trying to get at is that more often than not he literally just picks you up and carries you away.
Of course, that leaves you to come back to whatever you were doing.
That is after the cuddles and after sex ‘conversations’ about the dumbest things
Basically, he likes to hear you talk and he really likes being near.
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Osamu Miya
He knew who you were
With a brother like atsumu, who never shuts up about you, it's hard not to
(Osamu is pretty sure atsumu had a picture of you next to his pillow. ew)
Anyway, the two of you just happened to share the same lunch block, and it also just happens to be the only period block that he was alone
No teammates and no especially close that he could hang out with
That meant he could either study or eat
Had he chose to eat, only to be met with the fact that atsumu had drained both of their lunch accounts for his flavor of the week
Poor baby stood there for a while just processing what was the worst news of his life
When you, a true angel among the evil, said that you would graciously pay for his food so that he didn't outlook so sad anymore
If he wasn’t holding an armful of onigiri he would have fallen on his knees and begged to whatever god was out there to let him keep you
But he settled for thanking you and spending the entire period with you, he even offered to share (for the first time in his life)
You complimented him on his flavor choice and he decided to keep you
He made sure to share his recipes with you and you tried to do the same
And somehow that evolved into you guys going on dates, much to atsumu’s distaste, and you guys were totally hitting it off
Osamu was your official biggest fan, he loved everything you do
But that means he wants to stay your biggest fan, and he knows that you’re pretty well known for boys thinking not so innocent things about you
Again being brothers with atsumu gave him this little sadistic streak
He lets you wear all of the revealing outfits and the bikinis, all for everyone to see
Everyone to see what belongs to him
Like at suna’s party he let you wear a black mini-skirt and a white off the shoulder long sleeved flowy shirt.
You looked good, and all the guys staring at you proved that point tenfold. Three guys had come up to you and tried to get you to go upstairs with them. And it was almost immediately shut down when they noticed the act you were sitting on your boyfriend.
Speaking of, he almost always has you in his lap.
Aww, cute! Not, he like grinding you down on him, that's also why he likes having you wear skirts, easy access to your ass, also a nice way to ensure that he could get more than a few gropes in when he wants
No, it's definitely the way he made you wear thigh highs to school one day and the shortest skirt you owned (like a school skirt) and walked behind you the entire day.
And he just reached behind you and lifted your skirt for the whole hallway to see, but mostly for him
He waists no time when he wants to fuck, he’ll just walk up to and open your legs while making out with either you or your neck.
And yes he has done that in front of atsumu
Who was warned to stay out of their room for a while.
Not to mention all those times he convince you to go to school with no underwear on just for the fun of it
(I didn't tell you this but those off the shoulder mini dresses drive him wild. On graduation day he pulled into a closet and had his way with you. I mean he did say that if you wore that dress he was going to do it, buuuuuut y’know….. yolo)
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Kyotani Kentaro
We all know he’s a fighter, which means he gets hurt a lot, which in turn makes him a frequent face in the nurse's office
And who happens to be the nurse's niece? You of course!
And right after school, when your aunt takes her break and leaves you to take care of the office alone
Right after school is also when Kyotani always comes in.
(it’s not like he knew that you would be there alone, and that meant that you had to deal with him and heal him up. And it also is not like he started the fight so he could come here and see you. No not that)
Who am I kidding it was like that.
It was totally like that.
Your hands were just so soft when they put the bandages on and you have to bend down to get the wrapping.
He had a crush, that's what iwaizumi said, and after googling what the symptoms of a crush were he was sure
So with the help of the third years, aka Oikawa just having Iwaizumi repeat what he wanted to say, they had a plan
And the next time he was in the office he asked if you wanted to see a movie with him, it was so cute and he looked so shy
It would have been perfect if after five seconds he tried to take it back, you still went on the date with him though
He was happy.
Angry boy likes hugs
And yes he does, no objections
So when he’s upset he’ll make these grabby hands at you and have you come over and stand with him
He shoves his chin on your shoulder and his hands squeezing your waist and you’ll rock back and forth until he calms down.
He’s also very aware of what you wear
Like how your skirt perfectly frames your legs. How the socks you wear make your legs look 10x longer, and make you look like you’re walking like a model.
Or the dark blue leggings you wore with his alternate jersey and you were cheering for him!
But nothing and I mean NOTHING gets him better than when you wear spandex shorts and one of his shirts. He goes feral every time.
This man is the CEO of picking you up and placing you on his lap, straddle style, and just going ham on you
Not to mention that sometimes when he’s really tired he’ll have you just sitting on his lap while he plays with your thighs
(he also likes playing with your waist and stomach, but he doesn't realize that he’s talking out loud so you can hear all of the “so soft”’s he lets out.
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Kuguri
You were one of Mika's close friends so you were always just kind of around
It was a little get together that Daishou threw that really made you two close
It was a weird drinking game of sorts, and it had these teams, and you were out as a pair!
Somehow throughout the game, you guys got side-tracked and just ended up talking to each other the rest of the night
Eventually, you were convinced to go on a double date and the rest was history
He didn't even pay attention to what you wore that much until he heard a few rando kids in the locker room talking about it.
And that’s when he started thinking about just who he was dating
He first realized how round your ass was. Is it normal to look that good in leggings? No one else has ever looked that good to him. With that came his obsession with just touching your butt. He just grabs it or he’ll stop you from walking and palm it. Or he’ll rub circles into it.
(it's cute how intrigued he is by your butt)
Then came his obsession with your thighs. Mostly the way that they spread out when you sit. He didn't even understand why they were just so mesmerizing. They were so squishy too. He likes how they look in his hands-
Lastly was the waist thing. You aren't even sure what it is. He just likes putting his hands on your waist. Like a prom picture. Sometimes he’ll squeeze or run his hands along your sides. But he’s mostly stationary.
He also has this habit of just opening your legs and laying on your stomach.
He is just so into how soft you are.
1K notes · View notes
leviiattacks · 4 years
Note
teacher!levi and teacher!reader headcanons please 🥺
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author note :: i expected for this to be better but idk,,, um, you know maybe it’s just me who wishes i executed it better but i wrote this at 3am that’s my excuse. ANYWAY I HOPE U ENJOY ANON :-))) i know it’s not headcanons but here!! also my ask box is always open to feel free to drop by !! 
word count :: 5.4k (after i had to severely cut the word count down because my tumblr wouldn’t let me post the longer version with more detail,,,,)
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honestly you’ve never fit in well with the math teachers in particular but you’re still amicable with most
however, there’s one unbearable member of the group that happens to want to play jump rope with your patience constantly
and that person just so happens to be mr ackerman
every single staff meeting the both of you sit furthest away from each other whilst silently exchanging bitter glares
maybe it’s his stony disposition or his unrealistically harsh grading system that makes him seem so off putting to you.
or perhaps it’s your soft and gentle approach to teaching that drives him up a wall
but to make matters simple, the two of you have never got along. nearly everything he says you disagree with and nearly everything you say he has to rebuke.
every outlandish suggestion of his at meetings is met with firm disapproval from you and every time you bring up wanting to provide the children with more time for extracurricular activities he sneers in annoyance
today he’s proposing a plan to set exams as soon as possible
???
you wonder if he’s even thinking with his head attached to his neck because it’ll be impossible for the children to handle all of the content in the form of an exam paper so soon
the workload he’s been pushing onto his math class has become far too ridiculous for your liking and you want to put an end to the man’s reign of terror
it just so happens your classes are scheduled in the blocks next to each other meaning he always sees your students an hour before you do
it’s got to the point where your pupils trudge into english class completely EXHAUSTED
the other day a boy fainted because of lack of sleep and now mr ackerman has the audacity to put forward the exam dates???
“we need to instill these children with discipline. taking them by surprise will give them a much needed reality check.”
you groan at his speech and raise a hand
“may i interject?”
professor ackerman’s tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek the irritation is painted on his face but he nods although he seems reluctant
“these children do not need standardized exams to-”
“would you like for me to completely scrap exams from the curriculum?” without even allowing for you to present your argument he has to cut you off with a mocking grin
“levi, i think-”
“that's mr ackerman to you.”
his blunt correction has you rolling your eyes because YES!! you understand the two of you aren’t exactly the best of friends but he doesn’t even want to be on a first name basis with a colleague of two years??
his pettiness has your blood boiling in searing displeasure
“you have to stop going so hard on these children.”
he’s shuffling through some paperwork not even batting an eye in your direction.
“personally, we aren’t hard enough but of course the english teacher has trouble understanding that.”
the jab he makes at your job only causes the anger inside of you to bubble up again
why does teaching english have ANYTHING to do with this???
“you teach math yet you can’t calculate the reasoning behind your subpar love life. do not insult english.”
personal insults are your favourite to throw at him because he always gets so riled up
and actually for once you have the answer to a math question.
the reason why his love life is so uneventful has to be because of this :
his personality + his obnoxious humour + his looks = a good looking but undatable man
his jaw clenches and the grip he has on the stack of papers in his hands strengthens
ok,, that is kinda hot but that is not relevant at all
you’re able to make out miss ral one of the other math teachers make a move to speak and god you fight the urge to punch her every day because she’s always gushing about mr ackerman
seeing as you don’t want to punch her or anyone for that matter you turn to give her a “if you speak right now i swear to god i will lose my shit” look
she gets the memo incredibly quickly because her mouth closes shut immediately
mr ackerman takes a sip out of the cup of black tea next to him. “i would appreciate if you just sat back and let me do what’s best.”
“children fainting in my lesson is not what’s best.” your rebuttal catches him off guard and he seems more than a little surprised
“wait- fainted??”
you eyes flick over to mr zacharias, you had told him to pass the message on but the way he’s sheepishly looking at the floor avoiding your eyes clearly tells you all you have to know
“looks like someone forgot to pass the message onto you but the other day falco fainted in english.”
“is he- is he okay?? did he say why?”
eyebrows raising you’re quite surprised to see any sort of reaction from him let alone concern
“he stayed up all night completing your homework.”
lips pressing together into a fine line it almost looks as if he’s guilty
“i’ll talk to him about it later.” his voice is back to its usually plain tone and any trace of his previous worry has been masked.
an awkward silence follows. he coughs choosing to not continue the discussion about exams.
principal smith takes the hint and moves on to discuss planned school trips
HOORAH victory!!!
yet another day where you’ve saved your students
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“who is fallacy and why are they pathetic?” a few snorts and giggles are heard around the class and you force yourself to laugh at falco's miserable attempt at a joke
you’ve noticed falco’s been cracking more jokes around his new seat mate gabi.
she’s small but feisty always willing to debate and she’s really a joy to teach although she can get a little bit aggressive with the others at times
honestly it’s quite obvious that falco has a fat crush on her. well, actually it’s been obvious from the moment she step foot into your class
and... you couldn’t just ignore the way falco looked at her could you?? and there was an empty space next to him too sooooo, what harm would there be in placing the two together?
it seems as if your attempt at getting the both of them to talk has worked. gabi and falco compete desperately for the top position in the class and are two of the best students you’ve had in a while
also after the day falco fainted in class gabi has been noticeably nicer. things like asking if he’s drank water or how much he’s slept
you have a small inkling that she may like him back
and the budding romance is adorable to you because you too once had childhood crushes
it feels rather nostalgic to see the two interact
but today you notice the two aren’t in
in fact, you notice half of the class isn’t?
“where are the others?” your question sends a jolt through one of your present students but he stays silent choosing to pretend to clean his glasses as a distraction
crossing your arms over your chest you walk over towards his desk
“udo, you can tell me what it is.”
“professor ackerman said not to tell.” udo looks petrified and you’re just kinda wondering what in the hell is going on
lucky for you his resolve is thin and he quickly cracks under pressure
“okay. you can’t say i told.”
nodding in agreement he looks around making sure no one else hears what exactly it is he’s about to disclose
“he’s kept some people back to talk to them about something top secret. i don’t know what but he asked for the students who like you.”
at that you feel a little bitter because if he asked for the student who liked you why on earth is half the class still here??
but oh well, you guess you can’t please them all
“oh no, no, no. you’ve got it wrong. we all wanted to stay but he didn’t let us.”
udo looks genuine so you let it slide
either way it doesn’t really matter as long as the majority prefer you over that sick and twisted math teacher you’re alright
“he does know he’s cut into my class time right?”
“falco told him that and he whispered something about how you’re bothersome.”
you???? bothersome???
WHEN HE’S THE ONE BOTHERING EVERYONE?/!:£:!/)
you don’t even look back as you walk out frankly furious at what’s happened
english is important
ACTUALLY!!!
ENGLISH > MATH
you will stand by that till the day you die
your knuckle meets with the wooden surface of your sworn enemy’s classroom door and almost automatically you’re able to hear the shuffle of chairs and padding of numerous footsteps approach
the door swings open and you step aside to allow your missing students to pass through
they look nervous but one look at your reassuring smile lets them ease up and relax
“well.” a voice behind you snaps “look who paid me a visit.”
“we’re talking about this later.”
you try your best to sound serious but you don’t know if you pull it off as well as he does because he just ends up giving you a disappointed sort of look
“y/n. stick to being the good cop it suits you better.”
“we are not on first name basis. you said it yourself.” is your narrowed comeback
finally turning to face him you’re surprised when your eyes travel to the triangle of space behind him and you’re able to get a peek of what looks to be a list of books on his whiteboard
pride and prejudice
wuthering heights
jane eyre
ville-
before you’re able to read the rest he moves in front of your line of vision
he’s got quite the selection but,, when did he of all the people on this planet start showing any interest in literature?
“the books on the board what’s that about?”
your inquiry flies over his head and he shuts the door behind him completely
his face doesn’t move and if it does it only shows the slightest hint of confusion
“what books are you talking about?” he replies and don’t know why your knees feel a little weak when he looks you straight in the eyes
snap.
out.
of.
it.
“i saw books on the board.”
“you saw wrong.” he barks back and he’s getting agitated now
maybe you did imagine it...
and you have to get back to teach your class so okay fair enough you’ll let it go because you do know you have a habit of daydreaming randomly
however that doesn’t stop you from giving him another skeptical look before you leave because there is NO WAY you imagined it, but it is you and it really could be a possibility
the click clack of your heels against the floor sound out as you remove yourself from the conversation
you assume he’s returned to his classroom
that’s why it catches you by surprise when you hear a hesitant voice behind you
“there were no books on the board.”
you don’t know why he has to tell you that again because it only makes himself look all the more suspicious
“but if they were a list of book recommendations then what would you recommend i read?”
the question is peculiar coming from him
are you in an alternate universe?
is this a dream?
are you talking to a clone?
a robot?
because this can NOT be the same man you’ve been working with for two years
maybe he’s having a change of heart?
but that sounds unlikely
maybe he’s planning to read the book and somehow with that big brain of his formulate a calculation to score it a measly two out of ten
yeah. that sounds more likely.
nevertheless, you still want to give him a recommendation, maybe he’ll find out he’s into books this way
“you should totally check out pride and prejudice :-)”
for once you’re smiling at him and he doesn’t know what to do because the change is sudden but he doesn’t say a word after that
instead he retreats into his classroom
god.
now you’re sure he’s just asked to form a stupid calculation or whatever the hell it is math teachers do.
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“he likes you.” hange has a shit eating grin on their face and you can’t help but narrow your eyes and sigh in exasperation
no he does not like you but you don’t try to correct hange because you know they’re firm in their stupid belief
“would you ever date him?” hange fiddles with the last of their potato salad absentmindedly waiting on your reply
the question literally has you choking on your lunch
“i would rather fight for survival in the wilderness. thank you for asking.”
“oh come on... he’s got a thing for you. you read romance novels all the time you should be able to tell he does.”
“yeah and that thing he has for me is wanting to shove my head onto a pitchfork. you’ve got the wrong end of the stick.” shoving a piece of pasta into your mouth you sigh dreamily at the taste. it serves as a momentary distraction
you get one lunch break and you are not!!!! in the mood to talk about him whilst you’re on that break
he’s attractive
and you have to admit he looks handsome in his crisp white button up and pristine black suit AND his cologne is really...
okay, you are digressing from the point
none of what you just said means anything!!!
at surface level he seems like a catch but it’s what’s on the inside that matters and he said he finds english stupid
that’s more than enough of a reason to dislike the guy?
he thinks stuff like the pythagorean theorem and y = mx+c are entertaining
y = mx+c ??? over literature???
you read books to teach and you read books for your own enjoyment
it would be a complete travesty if you had a crush on a book hater
and levi ackerman most certainly can be classed as a book hater.
a pessimistic book hater if the specifics are needed
“OH! SORRY Y/N GOTTA BLAST MOB’S OVER THERE!!!!!”
you don’t even get the chance to say goodbye because hange makes an eager run towards moblit
hange and moblit are inseparable, both are the shared heads of the science department and since he’s been off on sick leave recently you understand why hange’s rushed off to greet him
you wish you had a teacher friend like that but the sad truth is you’re pretty much a lone wolf. the other english teachers are wrinkly old pickles and talk about antiques or quiz shows :-(
“this seat free?”
no way.
it’s not him
it can't be
what does he even want??
“um, well yeah it is free b-.”
“good.” he takes the seat without you even inviting him and now you’re stuck in an awkward situation you didn’t even expect to be in today
you're about to burst into tears because is it too much to ask for a peaceful lunch period???
mr ackerman clears his throat and places a book in the center of the table. “pride and prejudice although not my cup of tea was... mildly enjoyable.”
wait...
is this him...
admitting defeat!??
HELLLOOOOO
you are over the moon right now because you know he really had to have enjoyed it a lot and is simply choosing to withhold that information for his own reputation
“i’m happy to hear you took a liking to it.” you’re munching away at your pasta a little more upbeat now
“okay but the start of the book assuming all single men want a wife? no, all i want is a good night’s rest for once. also mrs bennet needs to calm down, elizabeth can marry who the hell she wa-”
“someone’s a little passionate aren’t they?” you giggle into your glass of water and you catch mr ackerman frowning
“i liked it okay.”
“i thought you said it was only mildly enjoyable just now?” grinning and looking at him through your lashes his cheeks become red
you guess he’s angry or something but that’s the usual with him
“yeah, whatever. i just wanted to play fair and apologise.”
“apologise?” oh wow, now your interest has really peaked because never in the past two years has he apologised to ANYONE
not even principal smith for the one time he flipped out and nearly cursed at a mouthy student at parent's evening
grimacing a little before he does it he finally speaks again.
“english is important. i’m sorry.”
your lips tug up into a bright smile
well???
this is a great interaction??
an apology coming out of levi ackerman of all people
“apology accepted! i’m glad to know you liked the book but now that we’re a tad bit friendlier with each other i wanted to ask for a favour.” your eyes gleam and he swears he can see specks of shining stars in them
“...okay, it depends.”
he’s warming up to you so he considers it
“please don’t cut into my lesson time levi.” his name slips out of your mouth but it’s so natural you don’t even care to correct yourself
“i’m sorry about that too y/n.” your name now ventures out of his mouth too as it tests the waters
wordlessly the two of you agree to first name basis
BUT more important matters are at hand such as how he’s issued you yet another apology?
this is satire surely
because why is he so willing all of a sudden...?
well, that's the power of pride and prejudice, wow you’re really thanking the heavens for blessing this world with jane austen’s existence
jane austen. a woman capable of remarkable things, she's even managed to make an unmoving book hater somehow become a lover
poking at your tuna pasta you and levi are now quiet.
“soooooo, any opinions on mr wickham?” you ask the question hoping to initiate a longer conversation than before
and luckily for you your attempt works
SUCCESS!!
levi pinches the bridge of his nose and the creases on his forehead show he clearly isn't particularly fond of wickham
“don’t get me started he’s so indescribably annoying?”
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ok, ok, ok
you don’t even know how it happens but you and levi really hit it off
weeks have passed and you and him have even become lunch buddies
it was so shocking to moblit at first that he dropped his lunch on the floor when he saw you and levi enthusiastically exchanging words
then again, two mr wickham haters are bound to get along
you’re seriously wondering how the two of you ever survived as mortal enemies
yeah, you still disagree a lot but you’re getting there!!
sometimes he helps you out when your computer stops running and in exchange you’re willing to offer him book recommendations
he swears he doesn't want any recommendations from you but you know he enjoys it
yesterday he got microsoft excel out and showed you how useful it really was and you went :O because you never really understood the need for it at all
you’re a little bit of a granny when it comes to tech...
and just today at lunch you recommended he checks some plays out but his nose wrinkled at the mention of shakespeare so the both of you went through a long list of dramas and eventually you were able to interest him in j.b. priestely's an inspector calls
another victory for you!!
anyway, right now the two of you are sitting inside of the staff room seeing as it's that time of the month again.
time for the monthly staff meeting
it's the first one you've had since you and levi became friends and you're worried the both of you will be back at it butting heads
wait, are you friends?
well, you wouldn't mind if that were the case but to be honest you would like to be a little bit more than friends mayb-
no!!! no!!! no!!! stupid thought!!! you retract that statement immediately
no you do not want to be more than friends with levi ackerman, yes he's lovely to a degree but you are not going to elaborate on why it's a terrible idea to fancy him
okay wait, let's elaborate for the sake of elaborating
he's surprisingly charming and wittier than you thought he would be. the fun conversations are making your days now and to be honest it is nice to have someone to spend lunch with (hange usually skips out on lunch all together to tinker in the science labs and set up experiments)
wait... weren't you suppose to explain why you don't want to get with him?
you're an idiot and you don't notice how dumb you really are until everyone just kinda gawks at the both of you because it's so odd seeing you in the same room let alone within a three feet radius of each other.
fuck, you completely forgot you and levi sat at opposite ends of the room
principal smith enters and even he looks visibly shocked at the change in seats but he doesn't mention it and you're grateful he doesn't because you didn't purposefully sit here it just happened on accident
erwin turns in your direction and smiles
"would you like to start off with your proposition for extracurriculars?"
nodding your head you begin passionately.
"well, i'd like to say i don't think we offer the children enough. we have spare funding so why not open another club? cooking perhaps? i understand many of you may not understand the importance of teaching them how to cook but-"
"do you have an obsession for setting these children up for failure?" tensing up you notice it's levi who's spoke and he doesn't sound remotely happy
blinking once and then twice he realizes his tone isn't the best and he mutters an apology "sorry, go ahead i'll add in when you're done."
whispers travel through the room straight away
"did he just say sorry?"
"actually why are those two sitting together?"
"do you think they're you know...?"
miss ral who's sat a little further away is the next person to disagree with you
"i understand the intention but would it not be better to let them have extra math lessons?"
"oh, so you can get a pay rise?" the comeback you make is aggressive and dripping in displeasure
she sits up face burning up
"no- no- absolutely not i take pleasure in teaching all of my classes." flustered and trying to hide her nerves she takes a sip out of her water bottle
you want to pour all of the water out onto that ginger hair of hers
the reason why her interjection is getting on your nerves is due to the fact you overheard her and another one of the math teachers plan to bring this specific point up
and you are well aware that her reasoning behind it has nothing to do with the children
she couldn't care less about them
"do not make me repeat what you and mr bozado were chit chatting about earlier today."
the threat is enough to silence her and just when you think you've handled the situation levi has to give his input
"let's ignore petra's motivations and talk about how teaching these kids how to cook means nothing if they have no tradable skills to offer in the real world." levi's not looking at you. he's either too annoyed or too preoccupied with his thought process
at that moment you feel naive, you thought maybe he would try to understand your opinion seeing as he's been spending so much time with you as of recent but that looks to not be the case
murmurs of agreement fill the room at his statement and you feel pathetic
it's practically the entire room against you now
genuinely how is it these people can manage to be such spoiled sports about everything?
"recently, i asked all of my classes to write an essay about school stress. maybe you won't understand my views because you haven't read their pieces but they need a fucking break." the expletive flies out of your mouth without warning and you flush in embarrassment
that
was
not
professional.
"oh god, i'm sorry i got worked up i shouldn't hav-" fumbling over all of your words you feel even more mortified
the principal raises his hand signalling you stop and you clamp your mouth shut. you're in huge trouble that's for sure
but,,, in spite of the clear difference in opinion between you and the other teachers, soft and well spoken principal smith says the unthinkable
"i have the final say and i believe you are coming from a good place after reading your student's work. how would you feel about running the new cooking club?"
scanning his face for a second you can tell his question is legitimate and the wave of relief that washes over you has never felt better than ever
sighing contently you agree and as the topic of conversation shifts to something else entirely you sense your heart rate picking up
you feel like you're back to square one with levi.
it's yet another day where you’ve saved your students and you should be feeling overjoyed but if anything you feel a little deflated
you wish he would have come around and understood but you can't teach and old dog new tricks
again, the feeling of disappointment wears you down
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two weeks have passed since then and your favourite time of year has come. it’s spring term meaning MACBETH
the english curriculum includes plays and it just so happens that today is your first lesson covering shakespeare
and you LOVE shakespeare
something about all the intricate foreshadowing always has you excited
but some children are missing
and it’s way too many to blame on sickness
so you wait for a few minutes but it's consistently radio silent
the last time this happened the culprit had been levi and he promised to never cut into your lesson time
but you could count on him to break his promise after the fiasco that was the monthly meeting
is he back to hating you and hating literature?
well, that's his loss if that's the case!! and no!! you will not upset yourself over the loss of the budding friendship
sighing you get to your feet making a beeline to the door but gabi and falco rush to stop you
awkward chuckles activated they wave their hands to get your attention “OH NO, they’ll only be five minutes!!” their sentence comes out as one big blur of words but you manage to understand them
now you’re doubtful because you know falco and gabi would usually ignore you and allow you to walk out
giving them a knowing glance the pair look between each other
their eyes are clearly communicating and asking if it’s alright to tell you
“i promise i won’t be mad.” you sigh
perhaps if you reassure them they’ll be more likely to spill the beans
“it’s not that you... i don't know. you might be upset.” gabi isn't one to care much for other's feelings so you're slightly anxious even though you shouldn't be
but you’re a tough nut to crack. so, absolutely not. you are not going to upset yourself over whatever it is
“i won’t be hurt. i’ve suffered through reading some of the most emotional classics to ever exist.” hitting your chest with your fist you wince a little because you hit yourself a little too hard
falco’s seems to be too shy to come out with it so gabi takes the lead as she normally does
“some students were talking badly about you so mr ackerman kept them behind to have a talk.”
oh.
yeah, actually you are a teeny weeny bit disheartened because you think you’re nice to all of your pupils but it’s nothing too bad, not everyone will like you
“if that’s all i’ll go get them. thank you for letting me know.” giving them two thumbs up you leave the class immediately
levi is probably scolding them to hell and back
not because he cares for you but because he hates disrespect in general
as you’re nearing the open door of his classroom you hear something you never thought would emerge from levi’s room
“final question. why does mr darcy say he doesn’t want to dance with elizabeth at first?” oh yeah, that’s levi’s voice for sure
an english question?
is he quizzing them on pride and prejudice?
you wait hoping your students don't fail you and are able to provide the correct answer.
“ummm... she’s not pretty enough!!”
levi hums “you answered all five questions right. do you all know why?”
you can’t see the children’s faces but they have to be confused if there’s no immediate response
he grunts in agitation “because your english teacher works hard to teach you every single day. have some respect because that teacher of yours is one in a million.”
taking your bottom lip in between your teeth you fight the urge to smile
“do you know how at every single staff meeting there’s only ever one teacher fighting for you all and what you want. i can assure you that teacher isn’t me, but i believe you can all guess who i'm talking about.”
your heart does a back flip in your chest and you feel jittery but in that really fuzzy good way
like that super duper fuzzy and hazy good way
he’s really very sweet for saying all of this and you're now smiling like an idiot
one pupil takes a chance to make amends “we’re sorry mr ackerman.”
but before levi can give them a response you clap your hands together and walk in unannounced 
“apology accepted, now if you want to all be forgiven forever please return to class and answer the questions on the board!” directing them to the door with your hands you make sure they're conscious fo the fact you aren't mad at them
still, never have you seen them so eager to run off to analyze macbeth. you guess levi's deathly stare is the cause for it
holding back a laugh you clear your throat after the last student leaves
“thank you levi :-)”
it’s quiet for a second and you think to ask him about what has been gnawing at your mind
“you didn’t have to do that. you disagreed with me before so... why did you?”
“i say this at every meeting and you never listen but children need to be disciplined.” his unchangeable tone is unwelcoming
again it’s awkwardly silent and you sorta regret even coming over to see what was going on because now you and levi are just having an uncomfortable staring contest
then he scratches the back of his neck and heaves a heavy breath
“it may also be because i really fucking like you, but i look like an idiot saying that when we’ve been at each other's necks for two years.”
oh.
the sudden and brutally honest confession has the wind knocked out of you, you’re stunned
and then you get hit by it too. the realization hits you like rain hits umbrellas on stormy days. you like him too.
you like him for his witty sense of humour, his pure honesty and his hatred for mr wickham only serves as a bonus
yes, you have your differences. many of them. but you like him
he’s no longer a book hater and so by default you can fancy him. he goes against none of your guidelines essentially
you like him, he likes you back?’//’.;
[SCREAMS]
“well, what do you say? will you be this mr darcy's elizabeth bennet?” hearing the cheesy pickup line from him of all people has the butterflies in your stomach exploding in delight 
“you sound weird, where's the grumpy math teacher from before?" now you and him are simply shamelessly flirting but HEY!! you have no complaints at all
he scoffs at your sarcastic question
"do you want the equation for a two dimensional heart on a graph beca-"
"can i just kiss you?"
wOWIE are you being bold today y/n???
thankfully you don't have to wait for his answer. levi’s right hand pulls your face in and he slams his lips against yours. he gives your waist a squeeze and you hold him tighter by the neck in response. he has a way of somehow making it all feel gentle and relaxed in the same breath
and... you know what? maybe you should have recommended pride and prejudice to him earlier
but oh well.
what matters the most right now is that you're kissing your mr darcy!!
and he’s kissing his elizabeth bennet
:-)
647 notes · View notes
stufftippywrote · 3 years
Text
not an astronaut
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This is based off a personal experience. Tw for fat-shaming, homophobia, and general assholery from an asshole kid.
The bell rings cheerfully as Bitty steps through the doorway. This was one of his favorite places when he was younger. The eclectic curios, every shape and size and color, packing the shelves were an endless source of fascination for young Eric Bittle, and the owners were friends of the family, so they knew Bitty well and didn't freak out when he picked up a ceramic pepper shaker or glass figurine and held it in his hands like an ancient treasure.
He walks through the store with that same sense of wonder now, 30 years later, and brushes his hand reverently over the shelves. They’re not looking for anything in particular today, but Bitty has told Jack about this place so many times, he simply couldn’t help but visit. Besides, you never know when you might find the perfect accent piece for the new home.
Chicken-shaped serving bowls, a porcelain figurine of a girl dancing, a set of silverware in a dusty wooden case. Bitty is spoiled for choice. As he browses, there’s a movement at the back of the store, and he catches a glimpse of someone hauling boxes through a door. He wonders who runs the place now. The sign still says Thompson’s Antiques, but he knows Mrs. Thompson passed and Mr. Thompson is getting on in years. Could it be that…
A prickle of fear runs through him.
The figure in the back drags the box to a nearby aisle and starts unpacking it, placing items on a low shelf. Bitty’s curiosity overflows. He moseys into that aisle and begins to speak, but the man raises his head before he can get a word out. He has to catch his breath all over again.
The man’s face goes slack. “I know you,” he blurts.
Eric puts his hands on his hips and gives a bright smile. “Davey Thompson. So you’re here after all!”
~~~
“Davey, this is Eric. Eric, this is our little boy Davey.” Mrs. Thompson’s smile is bright as she urges her son forward. “Why don’t you two go play at the playground while Mommy and her friend talk?”
The kid is tough-looking, with ruddy cheeks and a thick build. Eric reaches out his hand to lead Davey along the way. The minute they’re out of earshot, Davey snatches his hand back like he’s just touched a hot stove. Eric turns, surprised.
“You’re fat,” Davey says.
Eric blinks.
“You look dumb,” Davey adds on. And thus a quote-unquote “friendship” was born.
~~~
Davey stands up. He still has the same tinted cheeks and stocky build that Bitty remembers, but his face is sunken somehow, and he’s built up muscle where baby fat used to linger on his arms and shoulders. He’s got a tattoo on one arm – a Japanese koi fish, mid-splash.
“Nice ink,” Bitty comments.
And Davey Thompson, for possibly the first time in his life, smiles at Bitty. “Thanks.”
“The shop looks nice,” Bitty says, surveying the shelf like it’s his domain. “Hasn’t changed much since I used to come here.”
“You’re – you’re Eric Bittle, right?” Davey says, sounding almost scared of the answer. “From school?”
“From way before school,” Bitty responds. “You’re looking good.”
“Uh. Thanks. Same to you.” Davey looks uncertain, almost sheepish. There’s a moment of awkward silence. Davey tries to break it. “Um. So. What are you –”
He doesn’t seem to have the strength, or the will, to come up with the rest of the sentence. Bitty picks it up. “I’m a pastry chef,” he says. “I have a bakery and I cater, and I’ve put out three cookbooks. Can you imagine that?”
Davey looks kind of stunned. “Wow,” he says slowly. “Good for you. Where’s the bakery?”
“Up in New England. Providence, Rhode Island, to be exact.”
Davey snaps his fingers. “That’s right, you went to college up there. For hockey, wasn’t it?”
~~~
Bitty takes a swing at the ball. He misses, and it goes tumbling behind him into the net.
“Hah, you’re the worst goalie,” Davey says.
Somehow, Bitty finds the courage to say, “Let me play forward.” But his words are swallowed by the passing of a car on the cross street.
“What?”
“You be goalie.” Bitty gives the phrase all the menace he’s got in an eight-year-old body.
Davey laughs, a cruel laugh that sounds like ripping paper in Bitty’s ears. “Why? I can score on you all I want. That’s why we made you goalie.”
Resentment simmers like a low sun in Bitty’s gut. He wants to challenge Davey to play him on actual ice. He knows Davey can’t skate. As bad as he is, Bitty can’t possibly lose to him there. But the words stay stuck inside, plastered to the inside of his stomach, making him feel sick.
“Worst goalie ever,” Kevin chimes in.
“The worst, the wooooorst,” all four of them sing to him.
Bitty crouches low and is glad they can’t see much through the oversized goalie mask. Someday, he thinks, someday I’m gonna get them.
~~~
“Something like that,” Bitty answers easily. “And you’ve been here running the store?”
“Pretty much.” He doesn’t look very proud of that fact.
“I remember you used to say you were going to be an astronaut.”
“Ah, well –” The rose tint on Davey’s cheeks grows a shade deeper. “We were kids. I figure I missed my shot to make something of myself.”
All of Bitty’s nurturing instincts come alive. “Don’t say that. You’re doing well. Doing good, honest work. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Nah, man. It was just the easiest thing to do, once Mom got sick. I had to be here for her, and I … just stayed.”
Bitty gazes at him. This isn’t the attitude he expected from Davey Thompson, not in the slightest. He seems so defeated, as though Bitty’s arrival has reminded him of everything he isn’t. Bitty doesn’t want to be that for him, but he doesn’t think he has a choice in the matter. He quashes the small, self-satisfied demon that’s cackling in the back of his head. He’s not that kid anymore, either.
Just then, the chimes jingle at the front of the store. The babbling voice of a young child brightens the room. “Ah,” Bitty says, “there they are. He had to keep them outside a while before they calmed down. Little kids just work themselves up into a dither sometimes.” He offers an apologetic smile to Davey and retreats down the aisle toward the front of the store.
Suze is quiet, but it’s clear she was crying her eyes out earlier. She hangs on to her Papa with a fierce fist. Robby’s eyes are bugging out at the sight of the store. “What’s that?” he keeps asking, tugging on Jack’s slacks. Jack himself looks a little the worse for wear, but happy. That kind of tired-happy that they see in each other’s faces every night once the kids are in bed.
“Come on, Rob,” Bitty says, holding out his hands. “Want to see Daddy’s favorite store?”
Robby holds out his hands to be picked up. Bitty obliges, despite the warning creak of his back. He turns to take Robby further into the store and sees Davey standing there, staring them down.
He points. “I know you, too.”
“Ah, here we go,” Bitty says with a laugh.
“Were you in school with us? I don’t think that’s right, but—”
Jack holds out his hand for a shake. “Jack Zimmermann,” he says. “And you are?”
“My old friend Davey,” Bitty fills in. He can’t help but put a pointed emphasis on the friend part.
Davey clasps Jack’s hand but doesn’t seem to want to let go. “You’re Jack Zimmermann? The hockey player?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
Davey pumps Jack’s hand about four more times before finally letting go. “It’s – it’s good to meet you.” He looks at Suze, still curled up in Jack’s other arm. “And these are your kids? Or—” He turns to Bitty, face contorted in confusion. “Are they your kids?”
“Both,” Bitty answers cheerily. “Davey, meet my husband.”
Davey Thompson very nearly has a coronary right there.
~~~
“Hah, you’re just small all over, aren’t you?” Davey says with a pointed glance at Bitty’s crotch.
“You can’t help how you’re born,” Bitty retorts, but he pulls up his boxers right quick.
“Yeah, some people are just born stupid,” Davey agrees. Bitty instantly regrets replying at all.
Kyle whispers something in Davey’s ear. They both laugh.
“You’re right,” Davey says. He turns back to Bitty. “He’s right. They do say things about you.”
Bitty’s heart drops to his stomach. “W-what things?”
“You know! That you’re—” Davey flaps his wrist.
He doesn’t seem to have the nerve to say the word, but he doesn’t have to say it. The others in the locker room laugh.
For not the first time, Bitty is tempted to just ask, “So what if I am?” But he can’t. Not to these people. This isn’t how he wants his coming out to happen. So he just turns away and pulls on his sweatpants, ignoring the rills of laughter that echo against the lockers, and feels small. Small all over.
~~~
Davey recovers from his shock and nods his head rapidly. “Oh, I get it. Uh, congratulations. Uh, Bittle, could I talk to you a sec?”
He has that sheepish look again. Bitty watches as he retreats into one of the side aisles. “Gimme a sec,” he tells Jack, setting Robby down, and follows Davey.
When they're isolated, Davey turns to him sorrowfully. “I, uh—” Davey looks at the floor. “I was pretty mean to you in school.”
It isn’t what Bitty expected, not at all. To be honest, demons in the back of his head aside, this sort of thing doesn’t bother him so much anymore. Why should it? He’s married with two kids and a brand new home. He doesn’t spare a lot of time thinking about the distant past. “Um,” he starts, suddenly terribly embarrassed.
“No, let me—” Davey raises a hand. “Just let me. I said a lot of nasty things to you back then. I’m really sorry about it. I think about it a lot, and I’m just – I’m really sorry.”
There is a piece of Bitty that’s happy, even smug, at hearing this apology. But mostly he just pities Davey at this point. What a thing to carry around your whole life. “We were kids,” Bitty says. “Kids say dumb things. It’s all water under the bridge.”
“Still.” Davey says.
“I can’t say it didn’t hurt me,” Bitty goes on. “But I turned out okay, don’t you think?”
Davey laughs grimly “Yeah, look at you … and look at me.” He shrugs.
“You seem to be doing all right,” Bitty says charitably.
“I’m not an astronaut,” Davey says.
Bitty laughs. “Neither am I. We’re all good.” He pats Davey on the shoulder. A moment passes between them, silent, as they both listen to the sound of the past giving way to a new, kinder present.
After the moment passes, Bitty grins “Come on, I’m going to introduce you to my kids. Do you have kids?”
Davey flushes. “Yeah, I got a teenager. A real smartass. I wonder where he learned it.”
“Pictures!” Bitty declares. “Get that phone out, I demand pictures.”
Davey struggles to pull his phone out of his jeans pocket. This time, he flushes with pride. He narrates the story of each photo as they walk back toward the front.
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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years
Text
In Case You Don’t Live Forever
~chapter nine rewritten~
Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!Reader
Synopsis: you are Peters greatest love and Spider-Man’s greatest enemy
Series Masterlist
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You were quiet in the cab ride home. Peter was talking a mile a minute and all you gave him were small smiles and fake laughs every now and then so he wouldn’t suspect anything was wrong. He was too happy about how well the evening had gone to notice.
“Do you want to come back to my apartment? You can sleep over if you want.” Peter asked with a shy smile when you got to your floor. You didn’t want to lie in bed all night with Peter when you were literally lying to Peter, so you faked a yawn and stretched a little.
“Not tonight, babe. I’m a little tired.” You lied. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay Pete?”
Peter looked a little disappointed but you knew he understood.
“Okay, darling. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He went to kiss your lips but you turned so he only got your cheek. You pretended not to see the confusion and hurt in Peters eyes at your actions. You went into your apartment and went out the window immediately, needing to blow off some steam as Venom.
It didn’t take long to find crime, or for crime to find you. You soon heard the shrill cries of a panicked woman.
“Someone help me! He’s got my son!” She screamed. You immediately morphed into Venom and followed the sound of her voice. You climbed to the top of a tall building and scanned the city. Your eyes landed on a man running away with a small child struggling in his grasp. You jumped from the building and ran after the man at full speed. You caught up to him easily and blocked his path. You shot a web at the child and yanked him out of the mans grasp. At that moment, Spider-Man jumped down from the sky and landed between you and the man.
“Hold this.” You demanded and handed the child to Spider-Man. Spider-Man took the child and looked at you, the eyes on his mask squinting in confusion.
“What are you gonna do?” He asked as he bounced the child on his hip.
“Eat.” Venom said simply before bolting after the kidnapper who had took off running.
“Find the mom and get him to safety.” Venom called back to Spider-Man.
When you tracked the man down, you snatched the man up and suspended him in the air. Venom quickly swallowed him whole and fled the scene.
You found the mother just in time to see Spider-Man reuniting her with her child.
“Here you go ma’am.” He said kindly. The mother took her child and smiled at him gratefully.
“Thank you Spider-Man. I don’t know how you do it. You’re a hero.” The mom praised. Spider-Man laughed softly.
“I do my best. Stay safe.” Spider-Man waved kindly. The mother thanked him again and left with her son. Spider-Man turned to walk away as well but you stopped him.
“What the hell was that?” You roared. “You just took all the credit for saving that kid. You didn’t even do anything. We saved the kid, we killed the man, you were just the delivery boy. Why didn’t you tell the mom that we helped?” Spider-Man looked as taken aback as a man in a mask could look. Granted, your Y/n was showing. You were speaking in your Venom voice but it was really you talking, and Spider-Man seemed to notice the difference.
“Oh. I’m-I’m sorry. It’s just, you’re kinda scary and the kid was already super freaked out. I didn’t want to make it worse by him seeing you.” Spider-Man answered. He didn’t mean to offend you but his words hurt.
“We’re not scary. We saved that boy.” You said in defense.
“Yeah but, you’re honestly terrifying man.” Spider man laughed awkwardly. “Even I’m scared. A little kid wouldn’t want to see a hideous monster right after nearly being kidnapped. No offense.”
It almost seemed like he was trying to compliment you. Venom was much more hurt by his words than you were. At the end of the day, you could look like a regular person while Venom was stuck looking like a “hideous monster.”
“Don’t talk about her like that.” You shouted in your own voice. Spider-Man looked around for who the new voice came from. 
“Did that come from you?” He asked.
“It came from us.” You said, back to the low Venom growl.
“See it’s things like that that make you terrifying.” Spiderman continued. “That kid would’ve wet his pants if he saw you. I’m a nice, friendly face that people can trust. Really, no offense dude, but no one wants to see your face.”
You took a menacing step towards him and roared. He backed up instantly and held up his arms in defense.
“Woah woah woah please don’t put your eggs in me!” He shrieked. “I’m just stating the facts. You will never be a hero, if that what’s you’re going for. New York isn’t going to feel safe with a monster like you on the streets. If I told that mom that you were the one to save her kid, she would’ve ran straight to the cops. It might be better if you just went back to the planet you came from.”
He was trying something new. He knew he couldn’t physically beat Venom in a fight, so he tried using his words instead. His girlfriend was so good with words and he wanted to make her proud. All he knew was, he needed Venom out of the city.
“You’re wrong. We’re not a monster.” Venom growled. You just stayed silent.
“Fine. Monster. Alien. Whatever you want to be called, it doesn’t matter.” Spiderman waved his hand. “Because all anyone will call you is dangerous, scary, and a threat. You’re better off leaving earth and never coming back.”
“We’re not leaving.” Venom snarled.
“What’s with the we? Who else is in there?” Spider-Man asked. He reached out to touch you and you threw him against a building.
“Don’t touch us. Our host is in here.” Venom growled. Spider-Man tilted his head.
“Host? So you’re like a parasite?” He asked innocently. Innocent or not, it was the wrong question to ask. Venom picked Spider-Man up by his neck again and dangled him in the air. Spider-Man kicked his legs and tried to break free but couldn’t.
“First, you take credit for our work, then you insult us, and now you call us a parasite? We are not a parasite. We are Venom. And you are dead.” Venom sneered. Venom was too angry to listen to what Mr. Stark said about not eating Spider-Man. He had pushed you too far.
Venom ripped Spider-Mans mask off, wanting to see his identity before you killed him. To your devastating surprise, your terrified boyfriends face stared back at you. He had a bloody nose from being thrown against the wall and his face was red from lack of oxygen. He whispered pleas for mercy as his eyes begged you to let him go. You gasped and immediately dropped Peter onto the ground, looking around frantically for what to do next. He coughed and sputtered for a while while he rubbed his aching neck.
When he looked up, Venom was handing him his mask back with an apologetic look on your big white eyes. Peter shakily took the mask and nodded in thanks. You nodded back and ran as fast as you could back to your apartment. You climbed into your window, transformed back into yourself, and went to throw up in the bathroom.
Peter was Spider-Man. Peter was Spider-Man. And you were Venom. How could it be? How could fate be so cruel? And yet, it made perfect sense. He fit the description. College student from New York who traveled to Washington D.C. at the time of the elevator incident. It explained everything, from the first aid kit on Peters desk, to the constant phone calls, to Ned asking if you knew about Peter, and of course, Mr. Stark. The Stark Internship was being Spider-Man. You should’ve known. The signs were all there. But a part of you just wanted something good for once. Something that the rest of the world couldn’t touch. That something had been Peter. And now, you had to give him up.
You ignored Peters calls and texts for the next six days. You gave him a lame excuse about needed to stay focused on your Cletus Kasady article and so you couldn’t be on your phone. You had a week to tell him you were Venom, according to Mr. Stark. That week was almost up and you had spent it successfully avoiding Peter. You stayed in your apartment as often as you could and only left out the window when you had to go somewhere. Peters texts increasingly got harder and harder to ignore. You didn’t want to ignore his sweet good morning and goodnight texts or science puns, but you couldn’t face him. You just wanted to shake him and ask him why he kept something so big a secret from you. But alas, you said nothing.
On the sixth day of avoiding Peter, you knew you had to go out. You didn’t want to use the front door but you desperately needed to check your mail and it was pouring rain outside. You peered out your peephole and saw no signs of Peter. You quickly opened your door and didn’t even make it two steps before you heard the sound of Peters door opening. Running would be a bad option, right? You slowly turned around and gave Peter and awkward smile. He didn’t smile back.
“You’re avoiding me.” He stated. His voice wasn’t it’s usually happy tone. He sounded hurt and confused. You knew he had every reason to be, but you were hurt and confused too.
“I’m not. I told you I had to write my article.” You lied through your teeth. He didn’t buy it.
“Bullshit.” He scoffed. “I know you haven’t had your final interview with him. It’s in two days, right? How could you be finishing your article when you’re not even done with the interviews?”
You gulped. He saw right through your lies.
“Are you mad at me?” His tone changed as his voice weakened. “Did I do something wrong?”
Your heart broke. You wanted to hug him and tell him he didn’t do anything wrong, but you couldn’t. He’d been lying to you as long as you knew him. You couldn’t just forgive him and pretend you didn’t know he was Spider-Man.
“No.” You said quietly, suddenly taking extreme interest in your shoes. “No, Petey, I’m not mad.”
“Then why won’t you talk to me?” His voice cracked and your heart cracked with it. You looked down and shook your head, wishing you had an answer to give him. You looked around before stepping forward and pulling him into a tearful kiss. You let in longer in case it was the last kiss you ever shared with him He kissed you back but you felt his hesitation. His guard was up and you knew why.
“I’m sorry.” You breathed once you pulled away. “I can’t explain. I have to go, Peter. I’m sorry.”
You hated yourself for saying it, he deserved so much better. Peter looked like he was about to cry, confusion clouding his brown eyes. You turned away from him, unable to watch his heart breaking in front of you.
“Is this it?” His voice was quiet. “Are we over?”
“I think we are.” You said without turning around.
“Why the hell did you say that?” You thought. It’s not what you meant. You looked at Peter over your shoulder in time to see a tear run down his cheek. You went to turn back around but Peter grabbed your hand suddenly and pulled you towards the stairs. You didn’t resist and let him tug you, feeling like you owed him as much. You find it slightly ironic know that you knew why he was so strong.
Peter pulled you all the way to the roof, back to the very spot you once referred to as “ours.” He let go of your hand and pointed to the ledge, looking at you with weary eyes.
“Tell me it was all fake. Tell me it was all in my head and we weren’t happy together on that ledge. Tell me I made it all up and you were never as into me as I was into you. Tell me our first kiss, our first time, our first conversation meant nothing to you. Tell me you hate me and feel nothing for me.” He shouted before quieting down. “Because unless you tell me that, I won’t let you end this without giving me a reason. I won’t let you just walk away. Please, don’t end what we have just because you’re scared. You don’t have to be afraid. Not of me.”
“I know.” You whispered. “But you should be afraid of me. In fact, you already are.”
“What?” Peter furrowed his eyebrows. “Afraid—what?”
“I’m not afraid of you, Peter. Or of this. Of us. That’s not it.” You told him truthfully. “I’m afraid of what will happen when you find out I’m not who you think I am. I’m far worse.”
“What are you talking about? I do know you.” He insisted.
“You don’t.” You shook your head as tears fell from your eyes. “You do but you don’t.”
“Then who are you?”
“I’m a monster. We-“ you were cut off by the sounds of people screaming from the street below. Peter looked at you before running to the edge to peer down.
“Something’s attacking the city.” He called back to you. “It looks like a red version of Venom.”
“A red symbiote?” ,you thought, “how can that be?”
Peter turned and looked at you, not wanting to pull out his Spider-Man suit in front of you. Of course, he didn’t know that you were already well aware of his secret.
With the city under attack, your fight with Peter was going to wait. You wiped the tears from your face and walked past Peter, your shoulders brushing as you moved past him. You stared over the edge at the commotion, knowing you were the only one who could give the symbiote a fair fight. Your heart pounded in your chest as you looked over your shoulder at Peter, giving him a silent apology.
“I love you, Peter.” You said suddenly, never breaking eye contact. “I love you.”
With that, you jumped off the roof and turned into Venom in mid air. You landed on the ground below and roared at the red symbiote. You knew you had to focus on the fight, but your mind was goign a million miles an hour.
It was the first time you’d ever said those words to Peter, despite feeling them from the moment you met. He was the second boy you ever said those words to, but the first boy where you actually meant it.
You shook your head to free yourself from your thoughts and let out another roar.
“Venom!” The red symbiote smiled. “So glad you could make it! Where’s your friend huh? Is she too scared to come out and say hello to Carnage?”
“Carnage?” You wondered. Since when was there another symbiote on earth and more importantly, how did it know who you were?
You wasted no time in launching yourself at Carnage and attacking. You two wrestled for dominance for a while until Carnage ultimately won. He began to pull Venom off your body and you felt your face became uncovered. Carnage raised his razor sharp fingernails and prepared to slit your throat with his long nails.
“Heads up!” Spider-Man came swinging down and kicked Carnage off of you before he could harm you. You quickly bonded back with Venom and stood up, just in time to see Carnage throwing Peter across the street. You ran to him and helped him up.
“Shoot your web at the same time we do, okay?” You said and held out your wrist. Peter did the same and you both shot a web at the fast approaching Carnage. The combination of your webs was enough to capture Carnage and send him crashing to the floor. He soon broke out of his webbing and began running towards you again.
“Karen! Web grenade!” Peter yelled. He threw a web ball at Carnage and it blew up in the red symbiotes face. While he was distracted, you pulled the symbiote from its host by the ankles. Enough skin of the host was showing for you to take a bite. Carnage yelled in pain and turned to his closest attacker, which happened to be Peter. He picked Peter up and repeatedly slammed him into the pavement. To stop this, you tackled Carnage and spit acid spit in his eyes. Carnage howled and began to run away.
“I’ll be back, Venom.” He snarled. “And when I return, there’s gonna be Carnage.”
You ignored his threat and quickly ran to your unconscious boyfriend, kneeling down beside him. After checking to see that no one was around, you took off his mask and accessed his injuries. His face was beaten pretty badly and his pulse was weak. You transformed back into yourself and took off your hoodie and shirt, leaving you in a sports bra and leggings. You ran your hands over Peters body until you found a way to take the suit off, it was by pressing the spider on the chest. You tore up your shirt and pressed it to the large wound on Peters chest to stop the bleeding. You suddenly got an idea and pressed a hand to his chest, letting Venom go inside him and move around. Venoms healing abilities made the cuts on Peters chest disappear, but he was still knocked out. You pulled your hand away and slipped the hoodie around his body before picking him up with ease. He was adorably light. You quickly ran into the apartment building and went to his room before anyone could see you.
Peter came to about a half hour later just as you were finishing up healing his cuts. You had managed to bathe him and get him into a fresh pair of comfy clothes while his body healed.
Peter slowly woke up and noticed you were straddling his lap. After nearly a week of no contact with you, it felt nice. He missed the way your skin felt on his. He almost jumped out of his seat when he saw his Spider-Man suit hanging up in the closet where you could easily see it.
“Relax. I already know you’re Spider-Man.” You cooed as you put some Neosporin on his busted eyebrow. Peter relaxed under you for a moment as he took in his situation.
“And you’re not mad?” He asked quietly. You were surprisingly calm considering the circumstances.
“I’m not mad.” You smiled softly at him. “Venom is a little offended that you called her ugly though.”
“You’re Venom.” Peter said as he remembered seeing you jump off the building and transforming into the alien before his eyes. It made sense. The “We” was in reference to you. And you had saved his life the first night you met when Venom wanted to eat him. He just couldn’t believe his girlfriend was his arch nemesis this whole time.
“I am. Well, we are. Venom, say hi.” You turned to your left and watched as Venom shyly came out in her snake-like form to greet
“Hi.” Venom hissed.
“Hey.” Peter said back with a tiny bit a fear. He looked at you for reassurance and you nodded.
“You’re no panty dropper yourself, by the way.” Venom grumbled.
“Hey! Be nice or go back inside.” You scolded. Venom chose the later and went back inside.
“Are you mad?” You asked timidly, making him think about it.
“Not mad. Just confused.” He decided. “Is this why you were avoiding me? Because you saw my identity the night we ate dinner with Mr. Stark?”
“Yeah.” You admitted with guilt. “He told me I had a week to tell you. Today’s only day six so he’s gonna be thrilled.”
“He knows?” Peters eyes widened in surprise.
“Yes.” You confessed. “But he knew I was Venom before he knew I was your girlfriend.”
“That’s great news. Then I don’t have to explain anything to him.” Peter looked on the bright side. “Plus, he loves you. Speaking of love…”
Peter put his hand on the back of your neck and pulled you into a passionate, tear filled kiss. You wrapped your hand around his wrist and kissed him deeply, one last time. You slowly pulled apart and you bit your quivering lip.
“We have to break up.” You whispered before pulling your hands away from him.
“What? Why?” Peter asked in shock.
“Look at us Peter. Look what’s become of us.” Your voice wavered. “How can we ever be together when you’re Spider-Man and I’m Venom? We didn’t tell each other these huge things about our lives and we hurt each other because of it. Tell me, do you honestly think I’d ever lay a hand on you?”
“No.” Peter answered. He knew you didn’t have a malicious bone in your body.
“Exactly. I wouldn’t. And yet, I beat you to the point where you couldn’t even stand.” You began to cry from shame. “I should be protecting you, not hurting you.”
“But you didn’t know it was me.” Peter pointed out.
“Exactly Peter! I didn’t know it was you because you didn’t tell me!” You exclaimed. “Do you not trust me?”
“Of course I trust you. But in my defense, I’ve never told anyone I was Spider-Man. May, Ned, Mr. Stark, they all found out on their own. You were the first person I was actually going to tell willingly. I just hadn’t gotten around to it yet.” He sighed, and you believed him. “And what about you? You didn’t tell me you were Venom.” .
“It’s different, Peter.” You shook your head. “Venom isn’t a friendly neighborhood superhero. People see you and the run to you for help. But Peter, I’m what they’re running from. You said it yourself. I’m a hideous monster. I had a reason to hide who I was.”
Peter looked hurt at his own words. He cringed at the memory of insulting you so many times. He couldn’t imagine how it felt to hear that from your own boyfriend.
“You’re the most beautiful girl in the world. I said that about Venom, not you. I never would’ve said it if I had known.” Peter said softly, while reaching up to stroke your cheek. You wanted nothing more than to lean into his touch and forget the whole thing.
“That’s the point.” You moved his hand away. “We both would’ve done things differently if we had known. But we didn’t. And that’s why we need to breakup. Before we hurt each other any more.”
“Y/n, please.” Peter’s lips began to tremble. You couldn’t even look at him, not when you knew how much you were hurting him. You knew you’d take one took at his tear filled eyes and run right back into his arms. You had to be strong. You got up off his lap and headed towards the door before you lost your nerve.
“I’m sorry, Peter.” You said with your back to him. “We’re just on different paths. I’m so sorry.”
“Well what if I give up being Spider-Man?” Peter bartered. You looked at him over your shoulder in bewilderment.
“You’d give that up for me?”
“Anything for you.” He said confidently.
“I can’t ask you to do that. And what about Mr. Stark? You’re just gonna give up your mentor to be with me?” You asked him, hoping to knock some sense into him.
“Nothing means anything if I don’t have you.” Peter shot back. He was making it so difficult. You couldn’t help but to roll your eyes at him for how he was acting.
“You’re not throwing your life away for me.” You shook your head sternly. “I won’t allow it.”
“Well what if you give up Venom?” He suggested.
Venom jumped out and growled at Peter. He stumbled back and you held Venom back like a dog on a leash.
“She would never choose you over us, Spider-Man.” Venom snarled. “We’ve been with Y/n much longer than you have. We’ve dried her tears. We’ve kept her safe. What have you done? Y/n and I are inseparable by choice. I’m inside her. She’s mine.”
“Yea, well, I’ve been inside her too.” Peter shot back with faltering confidence. Your eyes widened at the two of them.
“Both of you, stop it.” You commanded. “This argument is over. I’m sorry, Peter. I’ll never be sorry enough. But I have to go.”
“Where are you going?” He panicked as you went for the door again.
“Home.” you answered, avoiding his gaze. 
“This is your home.” He protested. “Here, with me.”
“Not anymore.” You finally looked at him. “I’m going back to San Francisco. I booked the flight while you were knocked out and it leaves in the morning. I can’t be here anymore, Peter. I can’t see you everyday and not want to be with you.”
“Then be with me.” Peter practically yelled.
“We can’t be together. I knew it from the start.” You wiped your face when you remembered your breakdown in your car that one day.
“Y/n, please.” Peter gently took your arm, making you look at him. “Don’t go. I need you. You never even gave me a chance to say it back.”
In the midst of all the chaos and drama, you’d forgotten that you told Peter you loved him. A part of you was glad you finally got to say it, but the bigger part of you ached knowing you’d never hear it back.
“Don’t say it.” You put a half over his mouth for a moment. “Please, just, don’t say it. It’ll be too painful for the both of us. Just let me go. It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay. You and I not being together will never be okay.” Peter cried, leaving his sweet brown eyes a miserable red.
“Peter…” you breathed, hardly able to take it.
“Please don’t leave me. Everyone else has left me. And you’ve never been like everyone else.” Peter gave one last attempt to make you stay. You looked at him in his entirety. You took him all in. His wavy hair, his doe eyes, his slightly crooked nose and his eyebrow that stood all the way up. All the things you first fell in love with that day you knocked on his door to give him his mail. That seemed that a million years back but it was really only a few months. Your heart broke at the sight of Peter, as beautiful as ever, standing before with a broken heart. And even worse, you were the one that broke it.
“Stay.” His voice was barely above a whisper but he could see you beginning to weaken. He took his opportunity to beg to reconsider. A little gleam of hope bubbled in Peters chest. You stood up straighter, cleared your throat, and tore your eyes away from your ex-boyfriend.
“Peter Parker, I will love you until my lungs are empty. But I cannot stay.” You said firmly. Just like that, his hope was gone. Before he could say anything else, you ran out his bedroom door, through his kitchen, and out the front door. You locked your door behind you and climbed into bed, crying at the loss of your teenage love. You knew Peter could hear every tear that fell with his heightened hearing, so you whispered heartfelt apologies and hoped he’d find a way to forgive you.
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sporadiclilbook · 3 years
Note
Can I request a Claude x reader x Sylvain fic with an s/o who acts coy but is actually scarily perceptive? Like they notice Sylvain's inner turmoil almost right away and they notice the echoes of Claude's trauma in being ostracized and alienated and their care manifests in extremely subtle ways. How would they react once they find out that they're pining for the same person?
I hope ya like this anon! Hoping that this is how you wanted it too. Golden Deer!reader for plot reasons.
Truth of your mask
(Yan!Sylvain x Perceptive!Reader x Yan!Claude)
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You hummed as you walk through the halls of the academy to get to the dining hall. Everything was going normally, nothing much was happening other than getting a new teacher. A former mercenary no less. However you can't seem to read them at all. Not even when you try to talk to the new professor. No smile, no frown or pout. Just.....blank. Usually it was pretty easy considering how most people is full of expression, but your new teacher was like a blank canvas.
It interested you, truly. Perhaps you can continue to observe them and learn a thing or two. You sit down at one of the long dining tables to dig in into your favourite meal. You ate a bit slow considering there was no need to rush. You suddenly heard someone sitting right next to you and immediately knew who it is. "Is there something you need, Sylvain?" You asked as you blow softly on your food to cool it down. "Nothing just checking up on the most attractive person I know."
"Stop it Sylvain, there are lots of other attractive students here too you know....." As you pretended to blush and faced the opposite direction of him a bit. Now you may not be the best with close ranged combat and prefer to strike afar but you admit, you were quite good at intel gathering. Whether it's playing a shy role or feigning ignorance, you think you were quite the expert at it. "No need to be shy now babe, show me that beautiful eyes of yours." Sylvain was a tom fool to you, to think he would easily fall for this act is hilarious to you.
Slowly looking at him, you predicted that he would be wearing that same flirty grin that he always have talking with literally anyone he fancies in the academy. "I-uh....my eyes aren't exactly that extraordinary." You quickly averted back your eyes to your food. Eating it up a bit quicker now. You would have looked at him longer but everytime you do you felt something was off with him. You've seen him flirt around before. His expressions was all the same. It was a typical playboy face. It was different of course when he was alone. There were times when you catch him spending his time in solitary. That's when you notice the pain he has.
It looked like regret and weight of responsibilities. Doesn't help that he is the heir to House Gautier because of his crest. You approached him once, when it was raining, to talk to him a bit. Sure he was annoying at some times but letting him stand there looking so miserable didn't felt right. Of course this doesn't reveal your perceptiveness to him. To most it would look like he had a bad day but to you? You knew he was clinging onto something negative. Something he can't run from.
Ever since that day, he always seemed to make an effort to speak with you. Sometimes Felix or Prince Dimitri will berate him for disturbing a student from another class but there was no real harm, were there. Maybe he just want to make you one of his flings. At least that's what you thought until you see it in his eyes. It was not an usual flirty eyes. It was not lust or some kind of playboyish ones.
It looked like infatuation. Genuine infatuation.
That's when it hits you. It must have been something related to his past. Was he not loved by his family? Is this why he was seeking flings, hoping to finally find the one? Did he decided you were the one simply because you talked to him to ask if he was ok?
Perhaps you were wrong. There are times when your expertise was wrong. Rarely, yes but the chances are not zero. But for now, you will keep him at an arms' length. "Nonsense, your eyes shines brighter than the stars." You smiled sheepishly at him. Not knowing what to respond. He was about to talk more when suddenly a new yet familiar voice join. Your house leader, Claude.
"Well well if it isn't Mr.Smoothtalk, he's not bothering you right (Y/N)? What am I saying of course he is." Claude was like you, observant. But he only looks whats on the surface and not below. But who knows, he was quite eccentric. Maybe he does know you're feigning ignorance. Maybe he doesn't. But then again he would have talk to you about it. He's secretive but sometimes he will overshare his thoughts, ones that has no purposes anyway. You remember the day you enrolled here. Being a citizen of the Alliance automatically sorted you into Golden Deer. He was nice to you. Welcoming you and showing you around. In fact all of the Golden Deer was. Leonie might said something without thinking at times but she would apologise. Raphael was a gentle giant. Hilda was lazy but you reminded her of Marianne and that wanted to make her put in effort.
Claude was always all smiles and schemes. Even so, not even he was immume to you. When you spot him in the crowds of students it was clear as day. He felt isolated. Different. Foreign even. It intrigued you. Why would he felt out of place? Could it be tied to the fact he suddenly show up as the grandson to the leader of the Alliance? As curiosity plagued you, you made an effort to befriend him slowly. Pretending to have problems with class that you known he was good at and even picking up a bow sometimes seeing how his heirloom relic weapon was the bow Failnaught. He learns about you and vice versa. One of his simple mistake was when he invited you for tea.
He served you Almyran tea. He asked what you think of the tea and you just said tea was tea. Just like how people are people. The blend is different but in the end, it's just another beverage. He seemed delighted at your answer and you were delighted at his actions. He was Almyran or half-Almyran. It make sense seeing how Lady Tiana eloped a long time ago. Even after years, people talked about it. You decided to keep it a secret. You didn't really care about his heritage. What only matters to you was bringing back the cat that was killed by curiosity with satisfication.
Oh however. He too, had the same look upon his face. The same as Sylvain's. No one notices it, only you did. From their expression to their subtle acts. How Sylvain's pick up lines sounds like him courting you instead of flirting. Claude subconscious favouritism over you. And it scared you, truly. What were they planning exactly? Does Sylvain needed someone to finally let out his trouble thoughts to? Did Claude wanted to see if he can become vulnerable around you and reveal his secret himself to you? What is their true motives?
"Oh? Hello to you to Mr. House Leader. No need to worry, I'm not bothering them too much." Claude sat to the vacant spot next to you. "Yeah I can see that. But talking to someone who is enjoying a hot meal isn't that nice you know." You continued eating as you ignore their bickering. At least neither of them would talk to you and instead hurled passive-agressive responses to each other. When you finally finished your meal, you stood up. "You're done already (Y/N)? I was hoping I could talk to you a bit but see you at Golden Deer I guess." It was clear as day that Claude specifically said to meet you in class as in a mockery to Sylvain. "U-uh, yeah....see you at class Claude..." With that you returned back to class.
Claude and Sylvain sat together in a tensed silence. But they knew why they were still sitting here. The still noisy atmosphere of the dining hall proved perfect to conceal their conversation. "(Y/N) huh? Not a bad taste but I'm afraid you can't have them." Claude chuckled at Sylvain's statement. "Can't have them? They're in my house. They're Golden Deer not Blue Lions. And you think you have a chance?" Sylvain gritted his teeth at him. "And so? That won't stop me." Claude just shooked his head at him. "Oh Sylvain, maybe if you didn't use all your brains for pick up lines you'd have a great chance. It's unfortunate we liked the same person." Claude smirked at him. He knew the day Sylvain kept pestering you that he was also lovestrucked like he was. But Claude thinks you don't deserve someone like Sylvain. While Sylvain thinks Claude is trying to take advantage over your 'meek' personality. Seeing how schemeful he is.
"Bring it on then, Riegan."
"Don't hold it against me when you lose, Gautier."
176 notes · View notes
lexosaurus · 3 years
Text
Going Angst Week 2021: Birth
I wrote a short five part fic for this year’s Going Angst Week! Fair warning as the event suggests, no one in this fic will make it out on top.
Chapter One: Birth
---
“Don’t think of it as a death, think of it as a sort of rebirth.”
That’s what Vlad had told him anyhow, after he discovered who—or rather what—Danny was at their college reunion. 
“Who were you before this? A nobody, right? Just some little hormonal fourteen year old from the weirdo family, unpopular and bullied. No real hobbies or activities to speak of, aside from…” Vlad’s red eyes pierced down at him. “Video games, am I correct?”
Danny diverted his gaze to the floor. Vlad’s aura only increased in amusement.
“But now,” the ghost continued. “Now you’re something else. Something different, more powerful. The world is your oyster, and all you have to do is reach down and take it.”
“I don’t know,” Danny finally spoke up. He had been hoping that speaking to the older halfa would begin to patch things up between them, but so far every word out of Vlad’s mouth seemed coated in poison.
He knew that deep down he shouldn’t trust a damn word Plasmius said, but Vlad was the only person in the world who he could relate to. And according to the Vlad, there was no one else like them in the Ghost Zone either.
“What is there to be afraid of, Little Badger? You’re a half ghost, you can do whatever it is that you want and nobody, nobody can stop you.”
“It’s not that I’m afraid.” Lies, lies, all lies. “It just doesn’t seem right, is all.”
Plasmius leaned down, forcing Danny’s eyes to meet his. He grinned, bearing his fangs at the boy, as if he could see through all the fear that Danny was desperate to mask.
“Oh Daniel,” Vlad said. “Your parents will never accept you. No good you do in your ghost form could ever convince them that ghosts aren’t all evil, that some are good, that you are good. Don’t you see?”
“No, you’re wrong. My parents will accept me. I just have to—”
“Oh, will they?” Vlad laughed. “Your parents? The same ones who’ve dedicated their careers, their lives to developing ecto-weaponry meant to kill our kind? The people who have written countless academic papers as to the dangers of ecto-life on Earth?”
“If I can show them that we’re not all bad, then maybe they’ll see.”
“Ah, so I bet that explains why you haven’t told them about what really happened in the lab, right? You just wanted to wait for the ‘right time’ to tell them. Foolish boy, don’t you know?” Vlad’s cocky tone died down, as did the power of his aura. In the first moment of sincerity Danny had witnessed from the older man, he turned to Danny and warned, “Your parents are too blinded by their ignorance to ever see the truth.”
---
Danny had been alone the day of the accident. He wasn’t sure why he did it, why he strapped on the hazmat suit (not before ripping off the Jack sticker), why he stepped in the portal, why he tried to figure out how to turn it on. Was it boredom? Teenage rebellion? Curiosity?
But delving into his reasoning was too little too late. Because the moment he tripped over the wire and hit the misplaced power switch, his life ended.
Literally.
Dying hurt. It was terrifying, waking up as something else entirely, and passing out all over again.
At first, he could almost pretend that he was okay. But then he woke up the next morning and felt like he’d been hit by a truck.
And then he fell through his bed, hitting the wood floor below his bed frame.
And then he dragged himself out and saw the extensive scarring on his arm.
And then he knew. That what had happened in the lab wasn’t just a fluke, that whatever the portal did had changed him forever.
That he wasn’t okay.
Still, he tried to carry on as normal. Eventually, the lightning scars snaking across his arm faded (even though they remained when he transformed), and the aching of his muscles subsided (but the coolness in his chest never went away), and his relative anonymity at his school meant that people hardly noticed a change in him (even though his two best friends seemed to hover more now than before).
Everything was going to be normal. Even if he wasn’t okay anymore. Even if he wasn’t human, even if he was...some monster.
What even was he?
“Danny?” Sam poked his shoulder. “Hey, space case? You haven’t touched your food. Are you okay?”
The world snapped into focus, and he realized that he was in the cafeteria at school with his untouched lunch tray splayed out in front of him. He couldn’t even remember getting out of bed this morning, much less making it all the way till lunch.
Regardless, he picked the cardboard excuse for pizza from his tray and took a bite, chewing slowly, and tried not to choke as he forced the food down his parched throat.
“I’m fine,” he said.
He’d been saying that a lot lately.
“We’ve been trying not to pry, but…” Sam looked helplessly at Tucker. “Danny, is...is something going on with you? You’ve just seemed off lately.”
“No, nothing happened. I’m fine.”
“You sure dude?” Tucker asked.
Danny set his school-issued pizza back down on his tray. “Guys, seriously. I’m your best friend. If anything happened, I promise you’d be the first to know. I’ve just been stressed about school, it’s nothing.”
Sam and Tucker exchanged a glance, evidently not looking too convinced. Regardless, Sam gave him her best fake smile and a, “If you say so. Just know we’re here if you wanna talk.”
But he didn’t want to talk. They were human, he...wasn’t. They wouldn’t get it. They’d think he was a freak, they’d stop talking to him, they’d tell Jazz who would tell his parents who would kill him trying to save him.
No one could help him.
They finished lunch in silence, and then it was back to class where Danny managed to fall out of his chair twice and drop his pencil too many times to count. In biology class a glass microscope plate flew past his fingers, shattering against the tiled floor, and in English class when Lancer handed him papers to pass out he dropped those too, sending them scattered along the ground.
He saw the way Lancer peered at him as he stumbled to the ground, hands shaking as he desperately tried to grab the papers while everyone laughed at him. He felt cold—he was always cold since the accident—and he was sure that he looked just as much of a mess as he felt.
Mr. Lancer sent him down to the nurses office after that.
But he couldn’t go to the nurse because his heart rate was slower than a human’s and he didn’t need to breathe as much and he was so cold.
And he was fine.
So he took the hall pass and hid in the bathroom for the rest of the class period.
“Think of it as a rebirth,” Vlad had told him. 
Except Vlad was wrong. Danny wasn’t stronger now, he wasn’t more powerful. In fact, Danny Fenton had never felt more powerless, lost, and alone in his entire life.
If this was the start of a new life, then he was terrified to see what would follow.
---
next chapter>
146 notes · View notes
lovetorn · 4 years
Text
nightmare dressed like a daydream [dream]
Prince!Dream x Fem!Assassin!Reader
Summary: Y/n is an assassin, moving from kingdom to kingdom to eliminate targets. That’s until she meets Clay, the prince of Dreland, who takes a liking to her unbeknownst of her true intentions.
OR
“I don’t like her—I can’t. She’d kill me, George.”
Word Count: 10.6k (o_O)
Warnings: a lot of death & blood (murder, heart failure), weapons (knives), swearing, toxic relationship, unrequited love :(, mentions of abuse, parental issues — i think that’s all, but if you see anything, lmk!! it’s kinda cringe i use ‘clay’ so like pls ignore it sdfghjkgjh
A/N: this is the fic i’m most proud of :’). there may be a few plot holes and filler paragraphs btw lol. if you have any questions about this fic, shoot me an ask and i’ll be happy to explain, discuss etc. anything you have relating to it! yayyy! enjoy!
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She isn’t meant to be here. As a matter of fact, she isn’t supposed to be alive at all. After her last job, Y/n found herself in trouble with the wrong people. She had managed to escape from the small village she was in and find new clients in lands far away—which brought her here, tonight, in the kingdom of Dreland, at a Masquerade in the King’s castle. 
She’s dressed in her best skirts and bodice, perfectly fit for the party and makes her blend in seamlessly. She doesn’t want to draw any unwanted attention considering her true intentions of being here. 
She walks along the edge of the ballroom, her skirts trailing behind her slightly, and the handle of her mask in her hand. Her movements are sharp and calculated but seem elegant to onlookers. Nobody suspects a thing. 
Soon, she’s moving into the middle of the floor and being surrounded by older men who extend their hands to ask for a dance. Y/n shakes her head and declines politely; she doesn’t need to cause a scene. 
There’s a stage on the other side of the room where the King and Queen sit in their grand thrones, and Y/n observes their actions, watching around them for one person in particular. She sees a young man exit the curtains with a platter. He wears an apron with a white fabric strip around his hair and holds the tray with delicacy. Y/n snarls when she realises he’s not the right one. 
She inches closer to the stage, going to adjust her mask and purposefully dropping it. She watches as the object clatters on the floor and sighs exaggeratedly, waiting for someone to assist her. As planned, a pair of shiny black shoes arrive beside her mask, and the person leans down to grasp it from the polished timber. 
“I think you dropped this, Ma’am.” 
Their eyes meet—or at least she thinks they do; the badly drawn smile on his mask is distracting and incredibly unsettling for an event such as this one. Y/n knows who he is though, even behind the mask. He is her target. 
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“The Prince?” Y/n exclaimed in bewilderment. “Mr Wilbur, Sir, do you know how hard that’ll be?” 
The older man rolls his eyes before he glares into hers. “I was told you were the best in the business. Do you want the 50 gold or not?” Y/n nods. 
“Good. Now, I give you three weeks to complete this, or you get nothing but excruciating death.” 
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The tall man peers down at her. His head is tilting to the side as he takes in her appearance. “Who are you?” 
Y/n was waiting for this question. She simply laughs and takes her mask from his grasp. “I was invited by a friend of mine. She seems to have disappeared since I’ve been over here, though.” 
Her disappointment of an excuse has the man nodding—he’s taken the bait. “Interesting.” 
Y/n smiles awkwardly, the atmosphere of the room shifting slightly. She hates situations like this. 
“Do you wanna get out of here?” He asks, and Y/n’s eyebrows raise. “Excuse me for my informality.” 
Y/n shakes her head, giggling lightly as she grabs his hand and drags him towards the exit. He’d usually never stray far from events such as this, but seeing a girl his age and ready for adventure changes his attitude. 
Sneaking out past the guards, who pay no mind to two people in masks at a Masquerade, the pair step into the fresh air outside.
“What’s your name?” Y/n asks, already knowing his answer. 
“Uh—Clay?” His response sounds more of a question than an answer, which makes Y/n cock her head. 
“Why do you make your reply sound like that?” 
“Sorry,” He laughs. “Most people call me Dream. I’m the Prince of Dreland.”
False realisation crosses Y/n’s face as she facepalms. “Oh my! I’m so sorry, your highness.” 
Dream shakes his head vigorously. “No! No need for formalities, truly. I’m wonderful with being normal for once.” 
He hesitates before unclasping his mask from behind his head. The ceramic object falls slightly before he catches it and then he’s looking at Y/n properly.
Dream’s hair fluffs up lightly before he runs his hand through it to tame it. Y/n holds her mask in her hand as she watches him fix his appearance. 
“Now that I’ve told you mine, what’s yours?” 
Y/n is wary of her answer. On the one hand, she could lie, and on the other, she remembers that he’ll most likely be dead soon, so she shouldn’t lie. 
“Y/n.” 
Dream smiles at her. “Pretty.” Y/n thanks him and then they stand silently next to each other, the guard near the front door inching closer. 
“Do you want to go somewhere more private to talk?” Dream asks quietly. Y/n smirks whilst nodding—she didn’t think she’d be finished the job this quickly. 
Dream throws a glance back at the guard before he leads her towards the garden. The moon makes it hard to see the path, but they get there eventually. There’s no talking as they walk, the pair far too busy taking in the beauty of the moonlit garden.
The dirt beds are filled with rose and sunflower bushes, the scent creating a solacing hug around Y/n as she goes to sit next to Dream on a bench. The cold air bites at her skin, causing goosebumps to gloss her body. 
She usually isn’t nervous about committing murder, but Dream makes her uneasy. The way that his eyes glance at her worryingly and the harsh tension in his shoulders tells Y/n that Dream’s definitely had this happen before. Y/n bites the inside of her lip; she’d have to be very cunning to gain his trust. 
The garden in itself provides her with a sense of comfort. It reminds her of her flower bed at home. 
“So, why do they call you Dream?” Y/n asks. Her attempt at trying to defuse the awkwardness works as Dream twists his lips in thought.
“Uh—well, my mother used to say I was her ‘miracle’ and then believed the word was overused and cliche, so she came up with Dream; and it stuck—clearly.” 
Y/n nods, a soft smile gracing her face as she turns to him. “Well, I think that’s lovely.”
Dream blushes, although it’s hard to see through the night. “Really?” 
“Yeah! That’s beautiful.” 
The pair sit in silence, revelling in the moonlight before Dream speaks up again. “Would you like to see the lake?” 
Y/n contemplates before she replies. “Sure.” 
She had no idea why he’s taking her there, but it’s a sign that she’s gaining his trust. 
“You don’t know how to skip rocks?” 
Dream shakes his head at Y/n, who sits with her jaw open. “How?” 
He then shrugs, toying with a small pebble in his palm. “Teach me?” 
Y/n nods and takes the rock from him before standing and shuffling towards the lake. She gets into position, her arm bent at an angle beside her body. 
She takes a glance back at Dream to make sure he’s watching, which he is. “All you need to do is put your arm back like this, and then sweep it forwards and let go of the rock. Make sure you do it quickly, or it won’t work.” 
Y/n exhales and throws her arm, the rock hopping along the glassy water before it plops into the depths. 
She spins around with a smile on her face. Dream squints at her; he seems to be analysing her actions. He sighs and plucks a rock from the ground, standing and walking over to Y/n. 
“Ready?” She asks. Dream nods while getting into the same stance Y/n was in only 20 seconds ago. 
He looks down at the pebble for a moment and then throws it as Y/n said. Dream watches as the rock skips across the pond, creating ripples in the smooth water. 
Dream leaps around, his eyes wide. “I did it!” 
Y/n can’t help but laugh at him, the pure joy he feels influences her too. “You did!” 
Dream sighs heavily and goes back to where they were sitting. He flips back onto the ground, avoiding the sharp rocks protruding the sparse grass. He laughs out loud again, who knew something as trivial as rock skipping could make him feel so alive. 
“You’re cute; you know that?” The sudden compliment elicits a blush and a groan from Dream as Y/n nears closer. She smiles down at him. “There must be a lot of things you haven’t tried.” 
The statement makes Dream’s heart drop. It’s true, there are many things he hasn’t done. “Yes…” 
Y/n’s heart spasms in her chest. Poor guy.
“Ok. Well, I’ll make it my mission to make sure you get them all done before your time comes.” 
Dream looks at her. There’s an adoration that swims around in them that inclines Y/n to feel uneasy again. “You mean that?” 
The girl nods whilst she goes to lay next to him. “Everybody deserves happiness before they die.” 
Dream scrunches his nose up, going to disagree before Y/n interrupts. She doesn’t know why she has the sudden urge to say such a thing, but her chest aches when she looks at him. 
“I’m going to be completely honest with you, Dream. I’ve only known you for half an hour, but I feel so uneasy around you.” 
This catches Dream by surprise. He tilts his head at Y/n, who covers her face with her hands in embarrassment. “Sorry, sorry–“
“No need to apologise, Y/n. You make me uneasy too, I guess.” 
She peers at him between her fingers and then lowers her hands. Y/n lets out a small laugh at his red cheeks and imagines a flush creeping across hers too. 
“Uneasy in what sense, may I ask?” Dream’s innocent tone makes Y/n’s ears blush. 
“In the sense that you're unpredictable, in a good way. I’m always up for an adventure.” Her description is slightly confusing, but Dream understands.
Above them, the oak trees rustle lightly in the cool breeze, and tiny waves begin to ripple onto the sand meters in front of their feet. The sound of water rushing forwards and then pulling back calms the rapid beating of their hearts. 
“I guess I could say the same for you, Y/n.” 
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“Prince Clay, I have breakfast and a message for you.” 
At the sound of his assistant at his bedroom door, Dream groans from his place in his bed. “What time is it?” 
“10 am! Get up! I have a message for you if you didn't hear me the first time!” George teases, holding the paper between his fingers; he’s eager to open the letter. 
“George!” Dream calls, grabbing his pillow from beside him and shoving his face into it. 
“Clay!” 
Dream sighs loudly and throws his heavy duvets off of his body, stalking towards the door to unlock it. He swings the door open to see George with a scroll of parchment and a tray with a lid in his hands. Dream’s eyes widen at the sight of breakfast, but George shakes his head. “I have to read your message first.” 
Dream rolls his eyes and tells George to hurry up as he struggles to unravel it. 
“Ok! Calm down. Uh—it’s from someone named Y/n? Do you know—” George is rudely interrupted when Dream freezes, then smiles. “Yes!”
“Oh, well, she asks to meet you at 9 pm at the place where rocks hop—what does that mean?” George’s face scrunches up in confusion, but Dream sighs, and this time it’s in contentment and not in annoyance. 
“Perfect! Thank you, Georgie. Guess I’ll see you later.” Dream snatches the tray from his assistant with his free hand, the other grabbing the piece of paper. George goes to interject before Dream steps to the side and slams the door in his face. 
George stands in bewilderment behind the door. His heart aches slightly, and he’s not sure what from—maybe it’s the way Dream discarded him or because of the letter. But he certainly knows Dream has never mentioned anybody called Y/n before. 
Maybe they’re just friends? Perhaps they only met last night at the Masquerade?
George scolds himself for his ridiculous thoughts and spins on his heel, heading for his own room. He hesitates before he leaves, hearing Dream let out a shout of excitement. At the sound, George pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and exhales; sadly, the situation brings tears to his dark eyes. 
They’re probably just friends. 
Dream sits anxiously on his bed, his head in his palm as he watches the clock tick. 8:39 pm. 8:40 pm. 8:41 pm. 
His heart skips a beat as it reaches the time to leave. Dream leaps from his spot on the bed and goes towards his mirror on the other side of the room. His hands come down to straighten out his dark waistcoat before they move to his hair. He curls his lip up at the sight of his unruly locks and sighs, choosing to ruffle it up slightly rather than putting gel in it. 
Taking in his appearance, Dream nods to himself. If he goes towards the Astronomy Tower and then loops towards the lake, he’ll arrive at precisely 8:58 pm; perfect timing. 
The night is clear, and the stars look amazing from where Y/n sits on the grass next to the lake. She leans back on her elbows as she takes in the view. It’s whimsical. 
Thoughts of murder and pursuit place a dark cloud over the magical evening. Y/n bites her lip and stares at the rippling water in front of her. The lake looks ominous enough to hide a body in or cover up a vast amount of blood, and the dense foliage across the lake is enough to conceal a weapon in. However, Dream is the Prince, and there is no doubt that everybody in the kingdom would be looking high and low for him if he were to go missing. 
Y/n’s plans go down the drain. It shouldn't be this hard! Wilbur Soot trusted her to do this, and if she doesn’t go through with it, she is guaranteed death.
She groans loudly, bringing her hands up to dig the heels of her palms into her eyes. Y/n could cry at the idea of failing and being a disappointment, even to people she doesn’t even know. 
The rustling of the bushes behind her indicates Dream has arrived, but she doesn't move from her position. Instead, she chooses to gain his sympathy and find a way to manipulate him to make it easier to go through with the assassination. 
“Y/n? Are you okay?” Dream rushes towards her, dropping beside her on the grass. Y/n sniffs and shakes her head. “What happened?” 
Dream places his hand on her back, softly. The act in itself makes Y/n jump; she’s not used to physical contact. 
“Sorry.” He apologises when he sees her startled, deciding to move his hand away and place it back into his lap. 
“No, you’re fine,” Y/n lets out a teary laugh. “I—erm, I just found out that my father divorced my mother, and he took the farm and cottage away from her.” 
Her hands fall to her lap hopelessly, and Dream’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “Really? I’m so sorry, Y/n.” 
The girl shakes her head. The pair sit in the dark, the moon being the only thing illuminating their faces. Y/n thinks she’s hit a dead-end until Dream sighs and continues speaking.
“I can actually relate if it makes you feel better,” This makes Y/n’s ears perk up. “My father has been going to L’Manberg on ‘business trips’, but I know why he’s really leaving.”
Gotcha.
“Clay, I can’t imagine how hard that must be for you. I’m sorry.” He doesn’t reply and reaches over to grasp Y/n’s hand. Dream wears a crestfallen expression, his eyes glassy as he looks out over the water. Y/n feels a pang in her heart at the sight of the upset man. 
“I used to think that they had a good relationship,” Dream starts. Y/n doesn’t have the will to hear his perspective on it, afraid that she’ll actually feel bad for him and lose any motivation to kill him. “Until I went for a walk one night through the halls in the castle. I heard voices in my parents’ room and wanted to say ‘goodnight’, but before I could, I heard glass smashing and terrible cries.
“I was only a child, but I knew what was happening. I didn’t want to believe it at first because why would the King and Queen do such horrible things to each other? But as I got older, I realised that they had fallen out of love and are only faking it for the kingdom.” 
“Clay—” 
“They don’t know that I know all of this; they think I’m as clueless as I was when I was nine. But I’m twenty-one now, and I know everything.” 
Y/n screws her lips up, her throat burning with emotion. Why is she feeling like this?
“I don’t know what to say.” And it’s true. Y/n remains speechless as she listens to Dream tell her about his parents. 
“Nothing. I just needed someone to know.” Dream is blunt with his words and releases Y/n’s hand. She feels awful for not being able to help him in the way he needs, but she’s not here to be his therapist—she’s here to murder him. 
“Hey, how about we lighten the mood with some rock skipping?” And that’s just enough for Dream.
“Where are you staying?” Dream asks. Y/n is caught off guard by the question but tells him her orchestrated answer.
“In the castle, actually.” 
Dream turns to look at her, a lopsided smile on his lips. “Really?” Y/n nods. 
In an attempt to change the subject, Y/n picks up Dream’s hand from his lap. “Enough about me. Tell me what your favourite food is.” 
Dream gives her a confused look before replying. “Vanilla cake.”
Y/n hums and fiddles with his fingers. “Interesting.” 
Dream throws his head back to gaze at the moon above them. He is comfortably content at this moment with Y/n, despite only knowing her for a day. His eyes widen before he scrabbles to stand hastily. “I gotta go! You want to walk back together?” 
“I’m going to stay here a bit longer, if that’s alright with you.” Y/n smiles at him and Dream nods. It is reaching midnight and Dream knows he’ll be in trouble for being out so late. 
After he bids goodbye to Y/n, Dream begins his journey home. He hears wolves howling from behind the walls that surround the castle and goosebumps rise on his skin. It’s expectantly silent for the time of night, the only sound being animals as they scavenge. 
Dream’s footsteps are heavy on the pathway back to the castle, and his heart rate picks up at the sound of trees rustling. With his head on a swivel, Dream spins around to face the bush. He sucks his lips between his teeth and continues, checking back every once in a while, to make sure he isn’t being followed. 
He sees the grand entrance of the castle and his feet quicken. There’s a sudden whoosh behind him and then a breeze. A twig snaps in the distance and instead of running, he slows down. Dream forces himself to calm down—he’s only scaring himself. 
“Dream~” A voice sings into the wind. The tune has Dream sprinting to the doors, his heart beating out of his chest. Surely, he didn’t hear what he thought he heard. 
The wooden doors are heavy as he pushes them open before he stumbles inside. Dream is quick to close them once more, locking them in the process. He’s safe now, right?
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A sliver of white ripped fabric floats in the wind on a spike outside of his window. Dream eyes it suspiciously, that wasn’t there last night. 
He stretches his arms out, his joints cracking as his stare remains trained on the material. An uneasy feeling rises in his chest before his bedroom door opens suddenly. 
“Clay~” His assistant, George, sings. He holds a tray in his hands and a beaming smile on his face. “Breakfast!” 
“Hi.” At Dream’s wavering voice, George places the tray on the table and stalks over to the Prince.
“What’s wrong?” He sits on Dream’s bed and tries to meet his gaze. 
“Somebody’s after me, George,” Dream whispers, his fearful eyes are staring into George’s.
“How do you know?” 
“I just know.”
“Well, we have to inform the King and Queen at once, Clay!” 
Dream shakes his head. “I’m sure I’ll be fine; besides, I’m inside the castle for most of the day anyways. There’s no way anybody like that could get in.” 
George goes to interject but knows better than to do so. He trusts Dream, more than anyone else; if he says he’s fine, then he’s fine. Right?
“Ok… but if anything happens, you tell me. Got it?” George says his voice stern. Dream hasn’t heard this tone since he attempted to run from the castle last year after an argument with his parents. George had been scared out of mind when his best friend—the prince—was reported missing. 
“Has this got anything to do with Y/n, perhaps?” Dream is bewildered that George would say such a thing. “No! I trust Y/n. She could never do such a thing.” 
George nods timidly and apologises before he stands. “Breakfast is on your desk. I’ll be back later to collect the plates.” 
Dream furrows his eyebrows as he watches George sulk. Why does Y/n worry him so much? 
Dream walks in the moonlight along the high walls that surround the castle. If anybody knew he was out at this hour, he’d be in so much trouble. It wasn’t that his parents didn’t trust him; it was everybody else.
When he was younger, a groundskeeper had led him outside the gates with the intent to sell him off. The experience had left Dream untrusting to many, and although he was much older now, much more robust, he had a hard time getting to know people. 
An owl hoots from the tree above him and the moon hangs behind its body, casting a shadow onto the dirt beneath. The silhouette is ghostly, and the sight makes the creature look much more sinister than it is. 
Dream stops in his place and watches as the owl hops along the thick branch, the rustling of the leaves distracting him for a moment. The bird then pauses and turns to look at him. Dream smiles softly and whispers, “Hi, little owl.” 
Much to his surprise, the owl actually hoots back. The sound makes Dream’s eyes widen as he continues to speak quietly to the bird.
A twig snapping behind him causes the owl to flap its wings and shoot off into the night, making Dream frown. He sighs before turning around with the intent of going back to the castle. He’s been out for long enough anyway. 
His mind drifts to Y/n. He wonders where she is, his heart skipping a beat at the mere thought of her. It is ridiculous really, how quickly he’s fallen for a girl he only met a few weeks ago. But he knows she’s different from the princesses his family has tried to set him up with. Y/n is different in the sense that she actually makes him nervous—lovestruck, even. 
The sound of someone clearing their throat catches Dream’s attention, and then he turns to his right to face the noise. 
“Dream.” A voice says. 
Dream freezes. His heart picks up speed as he’s met with a person, a mask covering their face. His hands begin to shake as the person draws closer.
As they approach him, Dream can tell it’s a woman. As sexist as it is, he knows he could take her if they were to engage in a fight. Dream scolds himself at the thought, and his frightened expression goes slack.
“Who are you?” He exclaims, pushing his hair from his eyes to get a better look.
“I’m here on orders from someone to kill you.” 
Dream’s heart skips a beat. He knew it. 
“I know.” 
The girl stops in her place. “How?”
“I could feel it,” Dream gulps. “It’s happened before.” 
The girl nods and lifts her arm. Dream squints into the darkness to see what she is doing before he’s being pushed backwards. He stumbles slightly before he regains balance and begins running. 
“Dream~” The girl sings, her voice slightly distorted. Dream hears her loud and clear as he leaps over tree roots and dirt mounds. 
“Leave me alone!” 
She laughs and picks up speed behind him. Dream is shocked by how quickly she’s gaining on him, but he persists, nonetheless. A crooked smirk spreads across his cheeks as he looks back at her. 
“I can’t do that.”
Dream’s lungs and throat burn as he draws in breaths. Adrenaline rushes through his veins, and his knees begin to buckle as he prepares his arms to catch him when he falls. He doesn’t run much. But despite the pain, a sly grin continues to play on his lips.
Dream’s feet give way below him, and then he’s tumbling onto the freshly mown grass. He’s run a long way, now lying in the garden rather than being in the forest. The moon sits high in the sky and shines down on him intensely. 
And although he’s scared for his life, Dream can’t help but feel a little relieved. He moves to sit back on his heels as the girl comes up in front of him, a dagger drawn in her hand. It’s like a game to both of them. 
“I’ve got you now, Dream,” 
“It seems you do.” 
The masked girl’s dagger presses firmly against his throat. The blade gleams in the moonlight, and the pressure elicits a groan from him. 
Dream smiles as a drop of blood cascades down his chest. He enjoys the feeling a little more than he should, and the glint in her eye shows him that she does too. Why are her eyes so familiar? 
“But I’ll spare you.” 
Dream’s eyebrows furrow as he watches her pull her knife away from his neck and shove it back into the slot in her boot. “Why?” 
The girl sighs, her arms relaxing by her side. “Because I—something’s telling me I should.”
She turns on her heel, looking around before she ducks into the line of trees behind them. 
Dream exhales deeply, relieved—the small cut on his throat stinging as he tilts his head up to stare at the moon. He’s vulnerable in this position; on his knees and unarmed. Who would spare the prince if they had the perfect chance to kill him? What made her change her mind? 
In his conversation with the moon, Dream thinks about the girl’s eyes and why they were so familiar to him—and why she spared him. He squints at the full moon, begging for answers, trying to remember where he’d seen such beauty. 
His dazed smile is quickly wiped from his lips, and the realisation knocks the oxygen out of his lungs, and soon he’s gasping for air and clawing his chest—it’s Y/n. 
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Dream sits at the long dining table with a new plate of eggs and turkey. 
“Dreamy, darling, are you going to eat?” The Queen asks, her head lolling to the side as she talks to her son. 
Dream’s lips twitch as he shakes his head. “Not that hungry.” 
Y/n was on the verge of killing him last night. 
“Oh? Are you feeling okay?” 
Dream then nods, resting his cheek in his palm. His hair is messy, and his clothes remain skewed from sleeping. He usually didn’t present himself like this at breakfast. 
“Yes, perfectly fine. I’m sorry for not looking presentable this morning.” 
His mother sighs, her hand reaching out to grasp his free one. “That’s alright.” 
Dream gives her a tight-lipped smile and squeezes her hand. He notes that her ring finger is bare but decides against saying anything. 
“Where’s dad?” He asks instead. His mother stills, her face unreadable as she nods once.
“He had to leave this morning—business in L’Manberg.”
Dream doesn’t speak and lifts his hand, picking up his fork. The action elicits a soft smile from his mother. He stabs a slice of grilled turkey and brings it to his mouth.
“Clay!” 
At the sound of his name, Dream turns around. 
It’s after breakfast and Dream stands in the corner of the ballroom gazing out of the large windows that look onto the back garden. The head cook, and one of his best friends, Nick, is approaching him. “Nick?” 
His friend laughs, untying his apron from behind his back before he lays it over the end of one of the sofas. Dream steps forward to embrace Nick in a hug. “How have you been?” 
Nick contemplates his answer before he responds. “Flippin’ awesome.” Dream’s jaw goes slack at the cooking pun and chuckles. 
“Ha, ha. SO funny.” 
The pair pull away, and Dream faces the window again. The sapphire butterflies that flutter around the apple tree outside bring him a sense of comfort as Nick comes up beside him. The pair bask in warmth from the sun, the window making it much hotter than it is. 
“I’ve missed you, man. The kitchen’s been boring without you sneaking in.” Nick frowns and Dream feels his stomach drop. He takes a glance at the shorter man and sighs. 
“I’m sorry, bro. George said it’s ideal for me not to sneak around at night because—” 
Dream’s breath hitches in his throat, eliciting a cough. Nick shoots him a look. “Because of what?” 
“Erm—uh, I guess there’s somebody after me.” 
“What? Really?” 
Dream nods, wiping his nose with his fist. Nick struggles to find the words to say. “You don’t need to say anything; I don’t expect you to. I just thought I should let you know.” 
Nick exhales deeply, bringing his hand up to run his fingers through his hair. “That’s rough.” 
“Yeah,” Dream whispers. The two of them stand in silence as they watch the insects fly around in the sunlight. “Come here.” 
Then Dream’s pulling Nick into another hug. This time, their embrace means something, and Dream knows it’ll be one of the last times he sees his best friend. Be safe. I love you.
A sniffle from Nick prompts Dream to push him away at arm's length, his hands resting on his shoulders. The younger man complains about how embarrassing it is seeing him cry, but Dream shakes his head in assurance. “It’s okay—I’ll be okay.”
“I hope so; I can’t imagine this place without you.” 
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Dream sits on his bed, silently. He recalls the events from last night and exhales deeply. A million questions run through his mind as he shifts positions, now choosing to lay on his back and stare at the high ceiling. His fingertips come up to brush the scabbing cut on his neck. 
Why did he somewhat enjoy the blade against his neck? Why wasn’t he scared when it pierced his skin? Would he tell George? But most of all, why was Y/n after him? He trusted her–didn’t he?
A sudden knock on his bedroom door and the quiet sweep of paper against wood brings him from his screaming mind. He sits up abruptly, spotting the piece of parchment on the timber floor. Dream glances out of the window quickly and goes to snatch it from the ground.
The crinkling of paper is loud as he rushes to open it. 
Meet me at the Astronomy Tower at noon. 
Dream’s eyebrows fly to his hairline. Y/n wants to meet with him. Would she mention what happened last night? Does she know he knows it’s her? Is she planning to kill him right now?
Another knock makes him jump. But this time, it opens. 
“Clay?” 
“George!” Dream exclaims, pulling his assistant by his sleeve into the room, the door closing behind them. 
“Uh, yes?” George is confused at Dream’s jagged movements. Dream shoves the letter into the older boy’s hands and waits for his reaction. When George doesn’t reply, Dream rolls his eyes.
“It’s from Y/n!” 
“Well, you have to go.” 
Dream is both shocked and relieved. “I have to go?”
George nods. He reads over the letter one last time before he gives it back to Dream. George squints when he notices his friend’s slightly pink cheeks.
“Why are you blushing?” 
Dream immediately coughs in an attempt to cover up his embarrassment. George keeps his eyes on him as he does so, screwing his lips up in slight irritation that somebody can make Dream flustered. 
“Oh! Do you have a crush?” George teases, although it’s more of an accusation than a joke. Dream laughs, shoving him away. George chooses to ignore the tugging at his heart when he hears the Prince giggle like that. 
“I don’t like her—I can’t. She’d kill me, George.” Dream jokes, patting his friend on the back. But is he really joking? 
“Kill you?” 
Dream laughs, spinning on his heel whilst shrugging. “Kill me.”
“Did you speak to Nick this morning?” George asks, his fake smile flipping into a frown. The mood drops immediately, all laughs, and carelessness forgotten. 
Dream nods. “I told him how I think somebody’s after me again. He looked pretty scared.” 
“He was worried when I told him you wanted to talk to him about it.” George tilts his head and sighs. 
“...It’s nearly noon. I better get going.” Dream deflects the topic, choosing to stand tall once more. He doesn’t want George to suspect anything’s wrong with Y/n, so he puts on a false façade, a smile stretching across his cheeks.
George doesn't say anything and tries to make his smile believable as he opens Dream’s bedroom door for him. “Have fun, I guess.”
The younger man practically skips out of the room, and when he is halfway down the hallway, he turns. “What was it that you needed, George? When you knocked before?” 
George dismisses his question. “Not important. Now, go!” 
Although, to George, it is crucial, and now he has missed his chance. 
Dream’s boots slap the cobblestone steps as he makes his way up the tower. He peers around the corner, wary of his movements as he goes. When he reaches the top, he cautiously tiptoes to the balcony. His hand goes to trace the scab forming on his neck and forgets it when he hears her. 
“Clay?” Her voice is soft, holding much more kindness than it did when she had a blade to his throat. “Y/n.” 
He sees her perched on a picnic mat, a basket next to her. Dream tilts his head as he watches her stand and approaches him. Her arms wrap around his neck in a hug and then he’s hugging her back. “Hi.” 
“Hey,” She laughs, pulling back slightly to admire his face. “I missed you today.” Dream gives a muffled noise of agreement into her shoulder. 
Y/n steps back and squints at his neck. “What happened?” Her fingers delicately feel the wound before Dream dodges her. 
“Nothing, nothing. What’s all this?”
She appears to overlook his shitty deflection and motions towards the place where she was sitting. “I made us a picnic.” 
The way she smiles almost makes Dream forget who she is. He forces a smile back, his heart aching at the realisation of reality. She’ll kill him soon. 
“I baked a cake for you, vanilla—you said that was your favourite, right?” Y/n’s anxious actions worry Dream as he sits down next to her. He lifts his head to look out over the land, and the view is breath-taking. 
“Woah,” He breathes. 
Y/n smiles brightly at him, glancing at the green hills and blue skies before she focuses on cutting a slice of cake. 
“You know, I never really admired this view until I met you.” Dream confesses—and it’s true. Y/n pauses, gazing at him as he turns towards her. 
“Really?”
He nods, his breath hitching in his throat at the sight of her. She truly is gorgeous. “You’re pretty.” 
Y/n’s eyes widen, and she feels her cheeks flush. “Oh, thank you, Clay. You’re pretty too.” Her hair falls in front of her face as she looks down, and Dream feels a pang in his heart. 
“Have some cake,” Y/n mumbles, handing him a napkin with the dessert placed on it. The sweet looks delectable, and Dream can’t wait to take a bite—unless… 
“You know what? I’m not that hungry, actually. But the cake looks delicious. Thank you.” Y/n furrows her eyebrows, and a look of hurt flashed across her face. “Oh.” 
She hurries to take it back from him, but he refuses to give it to her. “What are you doing?” She asks. 
Dream motions for her to cut another piece, “I’ll only eat if you do.” 
Y/n nods slowly, moving the knife to slice into the cake once more. She flips it onto another napkin and brings it towards her mouth. 
“What? You think it’s poisonous?” Y/n laughs, watching as Dream becomes flustered. “No!” 
His response is quick and cautious, but Y/n doesn’t seem to notice as she takes a bite of her piece of cake. Dream watches as she chews and swallows, earning a confused glance from her. Nothing happens. 
“Well, I didn’t drop dead. Your turn,” She laughs, hurt still evident on her features. Dream feels guilty. He holds the cake surprisingly firmly, bringing it to his lips. His heart races as he puts it between his teeth and bites down. The cake is very sweet, and it’s good. Dream catches Y/n’s eye as he eats, giving her a nod of approval. She smiles widely and visibly relaxes. 
The action calms something in Dream, too. He finishes off his cake and waits for Y/n to do the same. He sees some white frosting fall onto the bodice of her dress, the sugary mixture tumbling down onto her skirt. The girl doesn’t seem to notice as she licks the remaining icing off her fingers. 
“Uh—Y/n, you got some—uh,” Dream motions to her skirt, and watches as she sighs deeply. “Awww, I just washed these.” 
Dream stifles a giggle when Y/n scrunches her nose up and goes to wipe it off. As small as the action is, Dream’s heart skips a beat at her cute expression. He scolds himself for feeling such this way; she tried to kill you last night. 
He eyes the knife next to the basket, sweet frosting covering the blade. The growing desire to grab it and ram it right through her chest burns in his mind, but he holds back. He clenches his jaw, and for the first time, Dream is terrified of himself. 
He shakes the deranged through from his head. What was that? 
Dream watches as Y/n shoves the used napkin into the basket and lifts her eyes to meet his. He smiles softly, causing Y/n to cover her face with her hands. “Stop that.” 
“Stop what?” He laughs, reaching to poke her in the ribs. Y/n yelps quietly, jolting when he shocks her side. “Stop making me flustered. It’s hardly polite.” 
Dream stops, the tips of his ears reddening. He makes her nervous? “Oh, come on now.” 
The rasp in his voice makes Y/n freeze. She peers at him through her fingers and sees him smirking at her. She lets out a high-pitched sound and returns her hands over her eyes. As much as Dream hates to admit it, there’s a fuzzy feeling in his chest.
“Clay, I’m going to take my hands away from my eyes now, and you better not say anything suggestive.” 
Dream chuckles, extending his arms out to grasp her fingers and pull them down. She doesn’t meet his gaze as he holds her hands in her lap. Birds chirp and fly past the balcony, their singing being a perfect addition to the atmosphere the pair had created. 
They don’t say anything as they lean closer. Dream tilts his head slightly, a small smile gracing his face as he sees Y/n do the same. 
“Prince Clay, the Queen would like to see you in the castle.” 
The two of them are still at the sound of another. George stands at the top of the stairs, a scroll in his right hand. Dream rolls his eyes in annoyance, throwing Y/n an apologetic look as he releases her hands. “Thanks, George.”
“I—I’ll see you later?” Y/n whispers as she watches Dream clamber up to his full height. He nods hastily, not giving her a second look, and rushes out behind George. He feels her stare on the back of his skull but continues. 
Y/n sits in silence as the clanging of the wooden door downstairs slams against the stone walls. The chirping of the birds outside dies down, and she frowns. 
As much as she’s supposed to detest Dream, Y/n feels butterflies cluster in her stomach at the mere thought of him. The idea of killing him causes the butterflies to turn to spiders and makes Y/n feel sick. She can’t go through with this—not now, not ever. 
“Dre—Clay.” 
Dream freezes; his mother only uses his real name when things are serious. He nods once, prompting his mother to continue. 
“Your father has yet to return to the kingdom from his trip to L’Manberg. However, plans have changed, and it seems he’ll be there longer than expected.” The Queen’s voice is steady but has undertones of utter sadness, which Dream picks up on instantly.
“Why?” He asks. 
“He gave me a straight answer; business.” 
Dream doesn’t say nor does anything. Instead, he remains still. His lack of response earns a reaction from his mother, however. “What is it?” 
“Is it why you don’t wear your ring anymore?” Dream refuses to meet her eye, afraid he’ll upset her more than he already has with his question.
The Queen inhales sharply, glancing at her hand before she composes herself. “Yes.” 
Her voice is just above a whisper, but Dream catches it. His heart clenches, and then he finally meets her watery eyes. 
Dream’s hard exterior breaks as he wraps his arms around his mother. He uses his finger to usher the guards and assistants out of the room and then rests his hand on the back of her hair in an attempt to quiet her soft cries.
He tries his best to be strong for her, swallowing the growing lump in his throat. 
The room is far too silent for Dream’s liking, and he wishes for something to happen to break it. 
And something does. The slam of the double doors makes the pair jump, Dream spinning around to see who had interrupted. 
Y/n stands there, the same picnic basket in her hand. “I’m sorry for intruding!” 
Dream’s mother quickly wipes under her eyes and places her usual people-pleasing smile on. “What can I do for you, darling?”
Y/n walks further into the room, glancing at Dream momentarily before opening the basket in front of the Queen.
“I brought you some berries. I was speaking to Dream earlier, and he told me you loved strawberries. So, I picked some for you, myself.” Her smile is deceiving, Dream can tell, but it’s also warming, and kind and his chest aches at the sight of it. 
The Queen gasps, her hands going to take the basket from Y/n. She peers in and sees it full to the brim with the berries. “Oh my,” 
Y/n’s smile grows, her eyes meeting Dream’s. Although he knows her true intentions, he’s extremely grateful for her kindness. “Thank you, Y/n.” 
“Yes, yes, thank you!” His mother beams. She turns around and starts walking towards another door behind them. 
Once the door closes, Y/n grins at Dream, and he smiles back. His heart twists in his chest, and his eyes burn with tears. Oh, how silly I am, he thinks. 
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The next time Dream sees Y/n, and she’s under the wooden bridge in the garden, her hair and undergarments drenched. The sun burns intensely down on his neck as he approaches her. 
Y/n watches the lake rush under her, the odd fish jumping out and diving back into the freezing water. It’s a harsh contrast to the weather outside, swelteringly hot and humid, but Y/n doesn’t pay any mind when she contemplates going for a swim. 
She jogs off the bridge and circles back around to shuffle down the steep, grass bank. Butterflies flutter majestically around her, enhancing the experience of being in an actual kingdom rather than a desert village—it's magical. 
Y/n’s eyes dart around before her hands tend to her back to untie her bodice. She sucks on her bottom lip, and she does so, the process takes far too long. 
Throwing the structured clothing to the grass, she then moves to her top skirt, pulling it up over her head. Her heeled boots and frilly socks are the last things to remove and then Y/n is left standing in a plain cream skirt and button-up. 
She pays no attention to her surroundings as she lifts her remaining skirt and dips her toes into the icy lake, her mouth forming an ‘o’ shape at the temperature. 
From here, Y/n can see that the middle of the lake is the deepest point; the bottom is nowhere in sight through the clear water. 
Y/n doesn’t think twice as she leaps into the middle, her entire body submerging under the surface. Her senses are shocked, and her throat closes at the sudden chill. Y/n claws at the water to reach the surface, and then she feels the sun on her cheeks. She takes a large breath and wipes her eyes. 
“Y/n?” The girl turns towards the sound of Dream’s voice. 
“Clay?” She smiles. He runs down the bank and towards the water, although he stops before he can dive in. 
“What are you doing?” He calls, tilting his head at her. “Swimming.” 
Dream rolls his eyes, “Obviously!” 
This elicits a giggle from Y/n as she swims to the edge, her clothes drenched and her heavy makeup running down her face. 
“Hi,” Y/n says as she draws closer. Dream tries fighting a smile at the sight of her in her undergarments. He feels the tips of his ears redden. “I don’t care if you see me like this, Clay.” 
He doesn’t say anything as he reaches his hands for her cheeks. He thinks she looks absolutely gorgeous. But the rising impulse to push her head under the water and never let her up is powerful. Once his fingertips brush her cheek, his breathing becomes laboured and clenches his jaw. She tried to kill you. 
Y/n notices him vacantly staring at her and waves her hand in front of his eyes. “Clay?” 
Dream’s blank expression doesn’t waver. Instead, Y/n swears, she sees his green eyes darken. His hands move from her cheeks to her shoulders, and his grip tightens. Y/n’s face scrunches in uncertainty, and she tries to shift from under his secure hold. Dream’s glare turns wicked as she continues to withdraw. “Clay? Stop, you’re scaring me.” 
His head cocks to the side mockingly, his arms going to push her shoulders down. Y/n losing footing on the rocks under her feet and her neck reaches the water. She claws hastily at his hands, and soon she’s gulping mouthfuls of the icy water. Dream shows no signs of stopping until the sound of her screams brings him from his empty glare. “S-Stop it-t!” 
“Y/n?” 
Dream blinks, and his face softens. He furrows his eyebrows when he sees Y/n struggling to keep her head above the water and grips under her armpits to pull her to stand again. Dream becomes increasingly worried as he sees tears running down her cheeks instead of lake water and makeup, opening his mouth to pour out apologies. 
Y/n stays silent, her eyes shooting from his gaze to the water. She is confused and scared. Questions run through her mind at a million miles per second. Why? Why, why, why? Does he know why she is actually here? Does he know her true intentions? Did he just try and drown her?
“What’s your problem?” Y/n yells, scrambling up the edge of the lake and towards her dry clothes. Dream says nothing. Why did he do that?
“I—I’m so sorry, Y/n.” Maybe it wasn’t her who had a dagger to his throat all that time ago. Perhaps she’s just a normal girl. 
Y/n snarls at him, her top lip curled up in disgust. “I don’t want to see you anymore.” 
The words shock Dream back into reality. “No! No, no.” 
“Yes. Now, leave me alone, Clay.” Y/n spits as she gathers her clothes and stomps back towards the castle. 
Dream stays crouching next to the lake. He stares at his reflection in the water. It twists and turns into a horrible creature baring sharp teeth and dark, dark eyes. He shakes his head instantly; the reflection swirling back into himself. 
What is going on?
— 
The fire almost burns Y/n’s icy hands as she inches closer to the flame. With her dry clothes on, her hair is still wet, and it drips down the back of her bodice and skirts, making her even colder; Y/n regrets not drying her hair before she got dressed. 
As she stares into the fire, Dream’s void expression and evil eyes eat away at her conscience, making her squeeze her eyes shut at the thought. 
“You,” 
The sound of a singular word makes Y/n turn around. George, Dream’s assistant, stands in front of her. His hard eyes are glaring at her as she cocks her head. “George?” 
“You’re here to kill him, aren’t you?” He spits, backing away slowly. Y/n's face shifts to one of shock, her hands shaking in at her sides. 
“Kill him? I would never do such a thing! If anything, he tried to kill me half an hour ago! At the bridge!” 
George scoffs, inching his hand towards the fire poker that leans against the brick fireplace next to him. “You know, you really need to work on your coyness, Y/n.”
She rolls her eyes at him, her teeth chattering as she does so. “You’re ridiculous, George. I love him despite his mistakes.” 
The man lets out a grunt. “You don’t!” 
Y/n steps back at his sudden aggressiveness. She sees the fire poker in his whitening knuckles and then stares at him in bewilderment. “Stop it! You’re going to hurt yourself or me.” 
A sinister laugh escapes George’s throat as he brings the sharp object up to her face, “Oh, I’m definitely going to hurt you. You’re not going anywhere near Clay, again.” 
At his sentence, Y/n stills, and her concerned expression falls slack. She’s done this more times than she can count. Her cold hands intertwine in front of her stomach as a look of confusion crosses George’s face. 
“Listen, I came here to do one thing, and whether or not that plan has changed is none of your business,” Y/n says her stare never wavering. 
She hates to make it so vague, but she knows if he told him the truth, she’d be dead either way—whether that be by George and his fire poker, or by Wilbur Soot and his many friends that could have her head on a pitchfork at any given moment. 
George narrows his eyes at her. “You’re lying.” 
She shrugs; Y/n knows not to show fear; it would only motivate him more. 
The end of the poker is dangerously close to her face, and George sighs before he lowers it. “You love him?” 
Y/n’s eyes soften, and she recoils slightly. She blinks slowly, her eyes coming to rest on her feet. Y/n hates showing emotion, choosing to spill everything in isolation rather than unveiling her vulnerability to potential threats. 
George only nods and retreats, placing the poker back next to the fireplace. He hesitates before he speaks, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. George drops his head and sighs, his heart shattering at the mere thought of Dream, returning her feelings.
“I don’t know who you are or why you’re here, but I know one thing; I’ve never seen Clay like this before, so please don’t hurt him. I can tell he cares about you, dearly.” He refuses to meet Y/n’s eye as he turns to exit. 
She becomes wary of his sudden change in mood but decides against asking him any questions as she sees the tail of his dress coat float around the corner of the doorframe. 
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George almost couldn’t believe his eyes when he walked into Dream’s bedroom the next morning. The sunlight had only just begun to flood the kingdom, the clock on the wall showing 6:18 am. 
“Why are you already up? Who are you?” George jokes approaching his best friend. Dream sits hunched over his desk, his quill hurrying over a piece of parchment. George furrows his brows at the strange behaviour but chooses to ignore it as he pulls a chair beside Dream. 
The younger man stops his actions and glances at his assistant. “What are you doing?”
George pales. “I—uh, just wanted to see what you are doing.” Dream throws him a dirty look before he angles his body away. 
George bites the inside of his cheek, his body filling with rage at Dream’s attitude. “What’s your deal?” 
Dream stills; George has never spoken to him like that before. “Excuse me?” 
“You heard me, Clay! Why are you so secretive all of a sudden? You always tell me what’s going on.” 
The Prince doesn’t seem to notice the absolute heartbreak and sadness in his assistant’s voice and clenches his fists. “Just fuck off, George! You’re my assistant, not my friend. I only call you when I need you. Got it?”
You could hear a pin drop in the silence that follows. George feels his entire body tingle as it falls numb, his stomach turning sickly. He watches as Dream huffs and turns back to his piece of paper, like a child; his arm covering the page and his other scribbling down words or exactly that—scribbles. 
It takes everything in George to stand up and leave. His legs are jelly as he wobbles out; his tears finally spilling down his cheeks. He shuts Dream’s bedroom door quietly, not anger him further, and runs down the hall towards his own room. 
The halls are silent, not a soul in sight but the broken one that floats behind George while he tries to swallow choked sobs. 
He hops down a few stairs, and then he’s pushing his door open, slamming it behind him in total defeat. He slides down the back of it, his hands coming to cover his flushed face. George scratches at his chest as he struggles to quieten the sound of his laboured breathing and hiccups. His heartbeat stutters within his ribcage—but that’s the least of his worries. 
This is the suffering of complete and utter heartbreak, and now George knows how it feels after three years of dreading it. He screws his eyes shut, in hopes of stopping the tears and forces himself to calm down. 
He loves Clay as more than a friend—this he knows is true. But, George scolds himself for being so foolish for thinking the Prince would reciprocate his one-sided love. 
And as the air fills his lungs, George stops. He holds his breath for as long as he can—the burning of his body screaming for him to breathe is the only thing he feels. He’s lightheaded as he gazes out of the window opposite him. The oak trees rustle in the dawn breeze, and it's tranquil. He feels his heart clench in his chest and then an unbearable searing pain that he can only compare to tossing your body into a fire and feeling it melt your skin.
The world is peaceful as he continues to let his body ignite and soon dwindle into nothing. 
And as the sun rises higher, his body slumps lower onto the ground, his eyes glassy and still staring out at the garden. 
Meet me in the garden at dusk. 
Her fingers trace the outline of the scraggly letters. Dream’s letter is vague, with no real meaning and nothing to indicate why he wants to meet. Usually, George delivered Dream’s letters to Y/n, but today it was rushed to her by another servant from the castle. Weird. 
Y/n squints closer at the letter; she can see how hard Dream drove the quill into the paper by the letters’ slightly ripped edges. Leaning closer, the smell of lavender seeps through the parchment. There are no lavender plants in the garden. 
Instead of going unprepared, Y/n reaches into the desk drawer and retrieves her dagger. She brings it towards her face and tilts it in the light, the metal reflecting into her eyes. Lifting her skirts on one side, Y/n shoves the knife into the case clasped around her thigh. It's subtle and easy to get to if needed. 
Y/n sighs, reading over the letter one last time before she walks towards the fire in the corner. She tosses it into the flames, watching as reds and oranges engulf the paper. 
She knows what comes next. If Dream wants her to meet him, then she’ll do it, but she also has to go through with her duties whether she likes it or not. 
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Y/n draws nearer to the garden, her eyes darting around the trees in hopes—or in fear—of seeing Dream. The sun burns in the distance, begging to say goodbye for the day as it watches the girl tiptoe over tree roots. 
Once she enters the area enclosed by stone walls and arches, tears gather in Y/n’s eyes when she sees him, her heartstrings pulling violently in her chest. Dream stands on the other side of the garden, the thorns from the rose bush piercing his dress pants. Y/n remains frozen under one of the stone arches at the garden’s entrance, her dagger prominent in its case around her thigh. 
His cold stare meets her cautious eyes and his face does nothing to soothe her nerves like it usually does. Instead, his stern expression stirs panic around in her stomach and makes her feel ill. Y/n abandons her original plan to stay withdrawn from the situation because once she sees him, she breaks. 
“I can’t kill you, Clay!” 
Dream freezes at her sudden shout. The pain in her voice makes him clench his jaw, and soon he’s approaching her. “What?”
Y/n inhales sharply, her breath hitching in her throat before she continues. “You know that I came here to kill you, you figured it out! And now I can’t go through with it.” 
“Why?” Dream’s glare challenges her.
“Don’t make me answer that,” 
“Y/n,” 
“Clay.”
“I asked you a question. Answer it.” 
Y/n squeezes her eyes shut, her fists tense by her sides. Dream’s blunt tone is the last thing she needs to suppress her feelings further. “Because I hate you and I can’t possibly assassinate you when I have feelings like that—it’s immoral.” 
He scoffs at her horrible excuse. “If you truly hate me, I would’ve been dead the first second you saw me. Don’t lie to me, Y/n.” 
Y/n could scream—in frustration, in anger, in heartbreak. She wants to stand on the ledge of the Astronomy Tower and scream about how much she loves him; scream about how much she hates him; scream about how she would go to the ends of the earth for a man she is supposed to murder. 
“Leave me, Clay. I need to be alone.” 
With the shake of his head, Dream steps closer. “You love me; that’s why. It took me a while to realise, but I know now. And the worst part is, I love you too.” 
The confession has Y/n panicking. Her eyes widen, and her hands scramble to snatch the knife from her thigh—but Dream’s quicker. He leaps towards her, his body colliding with hers as they stumble onto the grass. Y/n’s dagger presses against his neck, but there’s one against hers too. 
An unfamiliar panic runs through Y/n as she feels a blade across her throat, but she keeps a hard exterior. The deadly look in Dream’s eye catches Y/n off guard as she pushes her knife firmly. A split appears on his skin—his blood dripping onto her neck, making him readjust his grip on his own dagger. 
His mother’s face flashes through Dream’s mind while he swallowed thickly. He apologises in his thoughts as he glares at Y/n. 
The heat of his hot blood on her skin is unlike anything Y/n’s felt before; maybe it’s the bloodlust or something else, but Dream notices. 
Y/n opens her lips to speak but is stopped when he leans down to press his mouth against hers. The kiss is contrastingly soft compared to the incredibly vulnerable and intense position they’re in. Dream’s skin burns where the cut is and feels it grow as he leans closer to her face. Y/n gasps when she feels metal pierce her skin, and soon they’re whispering into each other’s lips. 
The end is near. And as Y/n stares into Dream’s enchanting, sinister eyes, she reaches. 
She reaches for the release she’s been begging for since she met him. She’s desperate to feel him one last time—in love and not hate. There's one final strand of hope that maybe, just maybe, he can see her dying love for him seep through her ever-growing bloodlust and absolute inhumanity. 
But he doesn’t. And the same devilish grin he wore when she had a blade to his throat for the first time splits his red cheeks. The twinkle in her eye tells him she feels it too, and then her teeth bare a vile smirk.
“I’ll love you forever, Clay.” 
“Forever is the sweetest con, my love.” 
There are dull sweeps of blades across skin, and then there’s silence. 
Excruciating, deafening nothingness.
And as the sun dips beyond the horizon, Y/n and Clay’s hands intertwine, not once sparing a glance back at their bodies that lay cold on the cobblestone pathway. 
Feedback is always appreciated xx
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viltrumitesuperboy · 4 years
Text
Babysitting Job (Peter Parker x Natasha’s Brother Reader)
Sorry for any errors within the plot. I wrote this over the course of two weeks. Reader’s powers not mentioned much.
Requested by: anon Could I possibly request a Peter Parker x Male Reader, where the reader is Black Widow's younger brother and has trained in martial arts and gymnastics and the like, but also has the ability of animal shape-shifting? Maybe all the avengers meet him for the first time when Black Widow finally gets him to live with her and Peter gains a pretty big crush on him?
Word count: 3352
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You trained under your older adoptive sister for years. Natasha found out that you had been born with the ability to shift into animals. She brought you to her workplace where you would be treated as a person and not as a weapon like she had. You never stayed with her after you'd trained for a few years, leaving America to take other jobs. Every once in a while she'd check up on you, asking if you needed anything or if you could help her find some information. Even miles away, she still acted like your older sister and was just as protective.
Eventually you decided to finish your education in America, staying with Natasha at the Avengers Tower. She had an entire floor to herself, but rarely used most of it. She was a minimalist to an extent. She made sure you were settled before going to her briefing late, assuring you that she wouldn't get in trouble. If anything, you were sure that she'd scold them for starting without her.
You spent the first few nights extremely uncomfortable in the new place. You had never needed to stay somewhere for a long time, and even if it had only been a few days, you knew you'd be there for a while.
After a week, you were roaming about the R&D floors and bumped into someone.
"Oh, you," Tony Stark said.
"Who do you think I am?" you asked warily.
"Natasha's kid brother, right? With the powers? Listen, I have something for you."
"Uh..."
"Here. Have you seen this?"
He pulled out his StarkPad. You watched the video he pulled up, not wanting to interrupt someone who seemed like he was always in a rush. It was a boy with a lean figure, dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants along with a mask covering his entire head. You silently applauded him for being a beginner vigilante who wore something practical considering he probably couldn't afford body armour.
"This is Spider-kid. Well, Spider-Man. But he's young, and I want to keep an eye on him. You mind helping me out? Of course, I wouldn't tell you his identity without his consent, but he agreed that he'd be fine with me giving him protection after..." he trailed off, gesturing vaguely with his hand as if you knew what he was talking about. "Anyway, you feel up to going to high school? You're young. You'll probably fit right in."
"Mr. Stark, I have no social skills. I assure you, putting me in a high school considering my powers and training is likely a danger to my mental stability and their physical well-being. I'm not going to babysit someone for you."
Tony's features seemed to soften a bit. He looked less like he was in a rush as much as he normally did. It was something he reserved for the people he cared most about.
"Look, I get it. People are hard to talk to. And I'm not saying this as Tony Stark, owner of a large company. I'm saying this as the reason I'm Iron Man. You've seen all that through files from Nat, right?" He awaited your confirmation, and you nodded. "Good. All you need to do is just be with Peter. And I'm sure you qualify to work for S.H.I.E.L.D. This can just be a mission and they'd be glad to know that my- uh, the kid is being managed by someone they can trust because at least they know Nat. It doesn't have to be anything else, not even a favour for me. Just a job."
You thought about it for a moment, then asked to see more of the videos. Stark held out the device for both of you to see and swiping through a few. You both stood there in the sunlit hallway for a while. He was barely trained and relied a lot on his powers. Maybe you could help him.
"I'll speak to Natasha today. I think I'll help you out, but talk to him first," you said finally.
"Great. By the way, I think he'd be a lot more comfortable if he knew that you were working with me," Stark said, just about to walk away. "He knows that someone will be sent to watch him, but he doesn't know who and he doesn't trust easily. He'd appreciate if you told him who you were right off the bat. Be careful."
"For him or for me?"
"Personally? For him. I think you can handle yourself."
He walked away, the device tucked under his arm as he made his way to one of the labs. It was obvious Stark cared for the boy, and you respected Stark for his efforts to make the world safer after what he'd gone through. If this was a job, this was one you'd take very seriously.
———
Your powers meant you could shift into animals, but you could also just take the attributes of any animal you knew to exist. It was much easier than turning into a large wildcat in the middle of a city street. You'd taken the climbing abilities of a gecko, leaping from another building to climb up the tower. There was a bandana covering the lower half of your face, just so you couldn't be recognised by cameras. You had just started to open the window when a reflection on the window blocked the lights inside.
"Hey, uh, what are you up to?" Spider-Man asked.
You turned to look at him, adjusting your bandana.
"Nothing, just going home," you replied, opening the window.
"Oh! Do you live here?" he piped up.
"No, but it'll be my home once I break in."
"Uh..."
"I'm just kidding. You can come in if you want. I know Stark has a soft spot for you."
"Mr. Stark? Really? I mean, I try to text Happy all the time cause I really want to tell Mr. Stark stuff sometimes but I didn't really think he actually-"
"Hey! Get inside!" your sister shouted from the kitchen.
You quickly slipped in, Spider-Man following and shutting the window behind you.
"What have I told you about coming in from there?" Natasha glared sternly.
"That there's an elevator and I should use it like a respectable person."
"Exactly. Go change and then help me out with lunch. Hi, Spider-Man. You know where to go."
"Yeah, sorry, Ms. Romanov. I didn't know you had a friend coming over."
"He's my brother. Now hurry up. Pepper will have your head if you're late."
The conversation trailed off, likely followed with goodbyes, as you went to your room. Lunch led to a very serious conversation about joining the secret government agency along with your first job: keeping Spider-Man in check.
———
The flash drive you received had the worst possible photo of Peter Parker you could imagine. It was as if they couldn't get an actual photo of him. Considering the fact that he was an official intern here, you figured that they might be able to get something that didn't look like an unfortunate accident from Picture Day. Because in person, he looked... not as stupid.
Going back to a public school was strange. You hadn't gone since you were a child, the rest of your education mixed in with the martial arts training you had to take. There were so many people, but at least they were ignoring you for the most part. The main problem was finding out where the hell B104 was.
"Um, are you lost?"
A girl with curly hair and a sketchbook to her side had a locker open next to you. You glanced at her putting books away and taking things out before responding.
"Yeah, I don't know where this is?"
She looked at your schedule, nodding as she shut her locker.
"Yeah. That's the basement. There's one science class down there," she explained. "I'll go with you; I have something there, too."
You thanked her as you both walked through the crowded hallways. She occasionally nudged people aside, giving absolutely no shits to the people standing in the way. Natasha would like her. When you accidentally mentioned it in a quiet mumble, she laughed. She claimed that if she ever met Black Widow, "it'll be over for all you bitches." You didn't doubt it. You both went down a floor and she led you to the room.
"I have to go a bit further down, but..." she quickly pulled out a pen and wrote down your room numbers on her wrist. "I have some classes close to these, so I can bring you there for the first half of the day before lunch. I'll see you after class?"
"Uh, sure?"
"My name's Michelle."
"I'm (Y/N)."
She stuck her hand out in a way that you became extremely uncomfortable with, not used to shaking hands. She seemed to notice your hesitation then held it up for a high five. You gave a small smile of gratitude and gave her one.
"I'm sorry, that's so awkward. Um, if you stick with me, I'll teach you the secrets of this school. Okay, there aren't really any, but you really look like more of a loner than I do."
You nodded awkwardly in response and turned to walk into your class without another word.
Michelle had about three of her classes with you, and you shared 4 with Peter Parker, two of which were before lunch. She walked you to the table she usually sat at, a relaxed gait to talk to you comfortably.
"Everyone kind of adopts their own spot in the cafeteria at some point. Those tables are usually empty, and that's where I sit. I have a feeling you're going to be spending your time there too."
You spotted Peter, who waved at you. Confused, you waved back, then Michelle voiced an excited greeting. You put your hand down after pretending to scratch your head.
"This is Peter and Ned. They're in some of your classes."
"Oh, you're the kid who broke one of the beakers today, right? Man, that's so weird. How did you manage that?" Ned recalled.
You weren't about to tell him that you hadn't broken it at all. It was sitting on one of the heating plates and you were trying to put it away, but it fell as you'd tried to catch it with your sticky gecko hands. It didn't work.
"I have super strength," you deadpanned.
The three laughed, somehow. You hadn't interacted with such a close friend group like this ever. Peter was an awkward teen just like the others, and you wondered how difficult it must have been for him to adjust to his powers in the middle of his schooling. If anyone noticed you staring at him, they didn't mention it.
———
You did not tell Peter that he was just your job.
He was completely oblivious to your role in his life and laughably terrible at hiding his secret. You once caught him pick up an entire row of lockers with one hand in between classes. He picked up a bottle that looked like it held arsenic and placed the lockers back down. The sunlight streaming in from a nearby classroom's glass window made you realise that this boy had no regard for his surroundings. He was incredibly stupid. You really had to tell him soon.
He'd visited the tower a few more times, and you'd sometimes see him practice with your sister. She'd look up at you in the doorway of the training room and glare at you, as if telling you that she was doing your job. You walked away before he saw you every time. Instead, you followed him around when he was Spider-Man, choosing when you wanted him to know you were there and when you didn't. You'd learned that from Natasha. He'd tried to get your attention a few times, knowing you were there, but you slipped out of sight every time.
Michelle started to ask you to call her MJ. Ned showed you pictures of the Death Star he and Peter built together. It suffered destruction twice in the past, but it was perfect now and sitting on display in Ned's home. Peter offhandedly mentioned that Tony Stark wanted to display it at the tower. Ned was all for it, and you wanted to hit your head on a wall. Peter consistently confirmed his parent-child relationship with Stark without realising it. It was a bit infuriating for everyone else who could see it.
Peter had started to become more awkward around you. He'd been more comfortable over time, but one day he just started to get fidgety and stammered a lot. It only happened when he spoke to you. You were aware that you were probably one of the very few people that he felt any romantic attraction to, and he probably felt like you were his only option. Unsurprisingly, you felt the same way. It sucked having only a few friends.
At some point the secret had to come out. You were just standing in the kitchen, opening the fridge for the second time like it would suddenly become interesting, and jumped once you closed it.
"Oh my god, Peter," you huffed.
"(Y/N)? What are you doing here?"
Your eyes darted to Natasha for help. Peter followed your line of sight to her. She shrugged and hauled her duffel bag further up her shoulders.
"I have a mission. I'll only be gone less than a week. Get groceries."
The elevator arrived in seconds and she went up, likely to the helipad. You both stood there in silence for a moment.
"That's my sister," you admitted.
"Hold on, so you're telling me the person I met sticking to a window was you? The new, awkward kid at my high school?"
"You're awkward too."
Peter began too look a bit uncomfortable just standing in front of you in plain view, like he was suddenly aware of how open he was.
"You were the one following me around the city too. When I'm Spider-Man."
You nodded, gesturing to the living room so you could both take a seat. He was quiet as you went to your room, coming back out with the flash drive you had on him.
"Stark wanted someone to watch you, and he doesn't have many younger options. Then Nick Fury apparently wanted to keep an eye on you, so it all worked out. Natasha talked to him about having me join, and you were supposed to be my mission."
"Then why didn't you tell me? Are we... friends?"
"Yes!"
Peter looked away from you and looked out the window, the same one you both climbed into a while ago. He looked down at the flash drive, his teeth biting his bottom lip. You slowly sat down next to him, being sure to keep some distance away.
"I just didn't know how to tell you. Stark said that I would have been fine if you didn't know who exactly was watching you. I didn't expect to become your friend."
He put the flash drive in between the two of you, sliding it back over. You looked at it, your stomach doing turns knowing that you never would have hurt him if you said something earlier.
"My sister's been training you because I couldn't. I've learned a lot from her, but I've traveled more than she has. And I can adjust my powers to be more like yours. If you'd still want me around, I can teach you more."
Peter stood up, holding his hand out like he was going to shake your hand. You followed suit, holding your hand up for a high five. You both switched your hand positions, then settled for a fist bump that wasn't quite coordinated.
"I know we're both a bit awkward and we don't know how to talk to people normally, but I don't think I'd ever give you up. I'd like to be more than a mission to you."
"Like a friend?"
"Whatever you want."
———
It was easier to be with Peter in the tower. You realised how little you actually know about the building, and the next few days were spent with the both of you walking to the subway together and taking it to where you lived. He always brought you up to Stark's personal floor, to both his and Stark's labs, then to the R&D floors that you stopped exploring ever since your interaction with Tony Stark. He showed you what people were working on if they allowed you both in, and you'd watch him work on projects when he figured he'd procrastinated long enough. Sometimes MJ and Ned would tag along because apparently both you and Peter vouching for them was enough for security to let them through. Of course you had MJ meet your sister. It was a terrifying experience.
You spent weeks training Peter, watching him crawl up walls and do flips with more grace than you ever could and learning from him, but also taking him down much faster than he could ever take down anyone else. He was resilient but needed the training that both you and your sister provided. And even if your sister had been doing this longer than you had, you had abilities she didn't that could match and counter Spider-Man's.
Somehow Peter got even more awkward. He was clumsy, and was only lucky he didn't break things (or his own body parts) because of his powers. You didn't really want to tell him that you knew why. If you didn't have your own response to how he felt about you, he'd think that you were rejecting him. Though conflicted, MJ decided to make that decision for you.
"Ned, wanna come with me to see Ms. Romanov while she's training?" MJ asked, slinging her sweater over her shoulder.
"Uh, I don't really-"
"We have lovebirds to leave alone. Come on."
Ned looked a little torn, considering he had either the option of staying and not letting his two friends talk alone for once or leaving and being constantly terrified of a woman and a teenage girl for hours. You felt he made the worse choice, as he followed MJ. Fool.
"Did you just call Ned a fool?" Peter laughed.
You put your hand over your mouth, but laughed with him anyway. You were both sitting on the same sofa that led to Peter finding out that he was a part of your job. His hand reached yours, putting it on top of where they rested on your lap. He pulled it towards him and held it like romantic couples usually do, with fingers crossed together. It took some struggle because you both moved your hands the same way. Once again, you shared a laugh, though this one was more strained and uncomfortable.
"You like me, Peter," you said, not an ounce of doubt in your words. "I've known behaviour long enough to know. And I like you too, but I'm scared that it's because you're the first friend I've had that wasn't my sister."
"I was supposed to say it first," he pouted. "I had those two leave on purpose!"
You laughed and lightly squeezed his hand.
"I mean, what's life if we're not going to take risks?" he continued. "You decided to go to public school after years of not making friends, and I went on a school trip, got bitten by a spider, and decided not to tell anyone. If it doesn't work out, we can still be friends, right?"
"Nat would force me to stick around you as part of the job. Keeping you around as a friend is just a plus."
"Well, don't think that I'm letting you off the hook for telling me how you feel first. I'm holding you to this." Peter pointed a finger menacingly at you, which you pushed away.
"Sorry for stealing your thunder. And speaking of thunder, Thor's coming in a few hours. You wanna hide his food and blame it on Barton?"
"Hell yeah."
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emo-and-confused · 4 years
Text
Headcannons based on @cb28 ‘s “ceo of many hotels tommy and hotel receptionist tubbo” au art (includes dysfunctional sleepy bois) (awesamdad)
-techno, wilbur, and tommy are phil’s kids
-(the three kids are adopted, techno was adopted when he was five, wilbur was adopted when he was four, and tommy was adopted when he was seven)
-techno is older than wilbur by two years and wilbur is older than tommy by eight years
-phil is this rich businessman. techno is some powerful leader. wilbur is a famous songwriter.
-then tommy owns a hotel
-he's still like 16/17 but he owns and manages it
-techno is the oldest therefore favorite and heir to whatever money and property phil owns
-tommy is least favorite. phil ignored him.
-then one day phil just gave him money and said "stop being a disappointment" so he started his hotel at 15
tommy: i’m going to build a hotel in rage
-then best friend tubbo who works there and is nice to tommy
phil: oh, theseus, my son. come, i was just telling my companions about your ho- who is that?
tommy: this is tubbo.
tubbo: hello :)
-wilbur being the normal brother and treating him like a normal person and taking him and tubbo to hang out and be kids
wilbur: tommy, let’s go get ice cream
tommy: wilbur, ive got things to do, paper work and, and shippments and-
wilbur: tommy.
tommy:
wilbur: let’s go. bring tubbo.
-tommy feels like he has to prove something to phil
-he also feels like he might be able to earn attention from him. that if he works hard enough phil will be proud of him
-wilbur’s music is what makes phil pay attention to him, but when he was a kid phil said his music was never going to be a stable source of income and actively encouraged other future job choices. this only made wilbur more focused on his music
-both tommy and wilbur feel the need to prove themselves
-tommy meets sam when starting up his hotel, and immediately gets attached
-sam is basically his guide, even after building the hotel. sam saw the child and went “yeah he needs parental guidance” and continued to stay in contact with tommy
-tommy is the one who gives sam the creeper mask. because sam is always working on construction and stuff and he's always inhaling debris and tommy likes minecraft so he gives it to him. sam adores it and wears it all the time.
-tommy totally calls him sam nook
sam: hey tommy! just building your hotel. i do need some more things for construction though... could you ship them over to me?
tommy: y'know this reminds me of a game my brother made me play over the holidays...
sam: ... uh,,,, what?
tommy: animal crossing! that's it. you're totally tom nook.
sam: alright, tommy.
-[over emails]
]Mr. Danger Careful Innit,
Could you supply more building materials?
Sincerely, Sam Nook
]Mr. Samuel Nook,
sure.
Sincerely, Tommy
-sam gets a very official hand written contract (the same one as the lore)
-he gets it and just goes with it (there’s a more real contract but tommy values his handwritten one more)
-sam signing it and tommy cheering and immediately going to text phil
sam: and... there you go! signed. :)
tommy: really??? ... YES!!! LETS GO!!! (calls phil and tells him)
-then tommy hanging up and smiling, then looking back over to sam.
tommmy: (clears his throat) um. my apologies. that was very unprofessional. thank you very much, sam.
-tubbo is the receptionist for the main hotel in the chain, (the one tommy is constantly at) but he basically becomes sort of a manager
-tommy sends him off to do multiple jobs throughout the day, and tubbo does them with only little complaint
tubbo: you know i’m not room service right?
tommy: i don’t remember asking
tubbo, already holding the room order: this isn’t my job tho-
tommy: and yet here you are, doing the job
-tommy pays him more than everyone else though, but tubbo doesn’t know that because tommy won’t let him see the usual staff paycheck
-tubbo is half a year older but his parents are constantly away on buisness trips so he is often home alone and has to take care of himself
-tommy is not good with showing his affection, the only one in his family to do so was wilbur. phil just kind of threw money at him on holidays and ignored him the rest of the time, and while techno was a lot more attentive to him, he wasn’t the best at affection either
-when tommy started making money with the hotel, (how very successful hotel chain), to show tubbo he cared he just started offering to buy him things
tommy, upon finding out tubbo likes bees: you know i could buy you a bee sanctuary if you’d like?
tubbo: tommy no-
-tubbo teaches him that money isn’t the only form of showing you care. it’s a long process
tommy: so you’re saying i shouldn’t buy sam a private engineering lab for his birthday?
tubbo: i know for a fact sam wouldn’t know how to accept such a gift and that he’d rather you close the hotel for a day and take him to play laser tag
tommy: ...okay but what if i do that and buy him a private engineering lab?
tubbo:
-the dream team are bell hoppers.
-tommy gets hate for being that young and successful
-the dream team are like “stfu i'm proud to be working for a very successful 16 yo how dare you" and go off on every rich person who says something about tommy’s age
they're still streamers. they just don't tell tommy. (tommy totally knows tho, he’s a 16 year old kid who plays minecraft and animal crossing, ofc he knows they’re video game streamers)
dream: hey tommy-
tommy: yes? is there a reason you're barging into my office?
dream: .. is that... animal crossing music? are you playing on a switch?
tommy: no!! i'm signing very important and legal documents!!! if you have nothing to say, get out!!
dream, to sapnap and george: he’s totally playing animal crossing.
-tommy makes them greet people at the doors and carry peoples bags purely because they’re famous. they don’t know this though
-they don't think tommy knows. tommy and tubbo think it’s hilarious. tommy hints it all the time that he knows but they just think he's being a kid
-quackity is on sam’s building/contracting team
-even after the hotel is built, q comes in to "check up" on the building with sam. and they "make sure nothing is going wrong with the building"
-they really just want to make sure tommy is okay under so much pressure
-wilbur totally has tubbo’s schedule and knows when tubbo’s on break, he can usually be found with tommy in tommy’s office
-wilbur will just barge in and be like “okay let’s go, you need a break”
-one time wilbur came in while sam and quackity were there
wilbur, barging in: kay, tommy, tubbo, let’s-
sam, mid lecture with tommy: you can’t keep doing this!
quackity, also scolding: you need to take a break, man.
tubbo, who noticed wilbur come in: wil! tell tommy he needs to go to bed and sleep! he hasn’t slept in twenty seven hours!
tommy, from his desk, with his head in his hands and leaning over paper work: i’m being ganged up on.
-wilbur instantly likes sam and quackity, because they care for his little brother (he totally has a rivalry with them though, he was there first, and tommy’s actual brother)
-the main hotel in the chain is sometimes used as an international meeting place for big companies and politicians
-more than once has phil or techno needed to stay for a few nights due to major meetings with powerful people
-it’s kind of awkward sometimes because tommy’s the hotel chain owner and since he’s based at the main hotel, he sometimes needs to greet the people going in for meetings
tommy: good afternoon, madam secretary
tommy: good afternoon, mister minister
tommy: good afternoon... *awkward cough* ...technoblade.
-or since he’s the ceo of a big name company, he sometimes has to attend big rich people galas that he hates
tommy: tubbo i literally hate these types of places, when can i leave, when am i allowed to to leave
tubbo, who is tommy’s plus one and moral support: dude i don’t know, i didn’t grow up rich
tommy, who grew up talking care of himself when wilbur wasn’t there: yeah well technically neither did i!
-and his father is a business man..
tommy, faking confidence and striding across the room: tubbo, i have no idea what i’m doing-
phil, from a table a few feet away, calling him over: theseus!
tommy, slowly turning around to see phil with a bunch of other rich people: fuckkkk-
-tommy makes sure everyone calls him tommy and not theseus
[in an interview]
interviewer: so theseus-
tommy: it's tommy.
interviewer: ... alright, tommy. would you like to address the rumors going around of your boyfriend?
tommy: huh??? oh, you mean tubbo? no, we're just best friends. and that's weird. i'm a minor.
interviewer: are you gay, though? we've never seen you date any women.
tommy: no, i do date women! all the time!!
-tommy being legally named "theseus watson" but calling himself "tommy innit"
-wilbur is legally “wilbur watson” but only ever goes by his stage name “wilbur soot”
-they both totally end up changing their names. legally.
-tommy saying i hate men because he just hates his father
-tommy getting scandals and controversies all the time but just by the upper class
-everyone else loves and adores him and knows he's literally just a 16 yo kid so that kind of stuff is a joke and he can say that without getting in trouble
-tommy will be in his office and tubbo will be at the front desk and sometimes tommy will just yell “TUBBOOOOO HELP MEEEEE” if his laptop crashes because Tubbo Tech
tommy: [during a meeting] oh, tubbo's clocked in for work.... TUBBOOO!
tommy: he's gonna come in here. surely. he'll go "hellœ?" surely. he'll walk in here...
tubbo: [walks in the room] hellœ?
-phil still has no idea who tubbo is
wilbur: yeah, i’m going to go check on tommy and tubbo
phil: ..the receptionist?
wilbur: ...
wilbur, internally: also your sons best friend but yeah sure, the receptionist.
-techno is lowkey fond of tubbo
-techno notices how tommy is clinging to tubbo at parties and galas all the time so he tries to get tommy to talk about him
-he likes that tubbo is there for tommy and totally resonates with the chaotic energy the two create
-sometimes when tommy can’t get tubbo in to the parties/galas, and techno is there, tommy will hang around him and steal his things
-like taking his wallet so techno will have to go back to the hotel afterwards and visit tommy
-he does it for attention. 
-tommy lives at the hotel. it’s not technically legal cause he wasn’t emancipated from his family and he’s only 16 but they’re rich so people don’t really say anything
-technically he still has a room at phil’s place, but he stays in a room at the hotel. when designing the place, he made sure to map out an area for his living space
-tubbo takes naps in his room
tubbo: i'm gonna go take a nap in the break room
quackity: there is no break room??
tubbo: yea there is. on the top floor. with the giant door.
quackity:... isn't that tommy's room???
-tubbo sometimes stays the night with tommy, when his parents have been on a business trip for over two weeks. he still goes to in-person school so he usually only stays on weekends during the school year
-tommy does online school, and forces himself to get his schoolwork for the week done over the weekend so he can focus on the hotel and other responsibilities
-he fakes having the “lmao i'm better and have more money also you don't play minecraft" mentality towards other kids and claims that’s why he does online
-it’s actually because he doesn’t have time to balance everything and he was bullied in the past so he switched to online school as soon as he started his hotel
-sometimes tubbo helps him with his classes tommy is overworked. like, in his off time. he has the passwords to tommy's computer so he just goes on it and does some of his school work
-tommy ranting to tubbo about how he hates his dad and how he said phil was gonna visit him the next day
-phil arriving and asking tubbo (because he's the receptionist) where tommy is. tubbo saying he doesn't know and that he left. even though tommy is literally in his room
-phil tries. he just doesn’t know how to parent. techno was 17 and wilbur was 15 when he adopted tommy, and he just got busy enough and forgot how to take care of a child
-tommy knows if he talks to phil, it’ll be awkward and phil will just try and buy him off (not intentionally, it’s just how business men be working, yknow)
-tommy just wants to prove himself, to both himself and phil. and hes using his hotel to do that
———————
fanart that was posted with @cb28 ‘s work
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
(i got permission to post this)
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blockgamepirate · 3 years
Text
So we were talking on Discord about a DSMP superpowers AU, specifically Syndicate as an anarchist superhero team who are perceived as villains by pretty much everybody. (There were a bunch of people involved in the brainstorming but I wanna particularly credit @macachee for the idea for Techno’s superpowers, even though I ended up using a slightly different version than theirs.)
Anyway I know I don't really write fanfic anymore and I'm extremely rusty but uh... my hand slipped?
(CW: nothing major but there are repeated mentions of fire and some pretty tame violence)
×××
"Professor Underscore, I presume?"
The distinctive deep voice of an infamous supervillain was really not something anyone wanted to hear after 14 hours of last minute bug-fixing on a prototype superweapon in a secret laboratory. Especially when all your assistants had already called it a day and gone home.
Without even looking around, Tubbo reached for the gun in his desk drawer but before he could pull it out, a blade smashed into the wood right next to his hand.
"Nope", said the voice, "you don't get to have weapons, I get to have weapons. And speaking of weapons..."
Tubbo carefully turned around on his chair to face his attacker. As expected, it was a huge, hulking pigman dressed in flashy red and a golden mask.
"You are Protesilaus, aren't you? From the Syndicate?"
Protesilaus blinked at him. "You're a LOT younger than I expected, professor."
"Yeah, I get that a lot."
"I mean it's very impressive though, good for you."
"Thanks."
"So anyway, I'm here for the weapons."
"The weapons are kinda reserved already. You know, for the military."
"Don't give a shit", said a voice from the door. "Gib."
Protesilaus sighed. "Zephyrus, you're supposed to be the secret back-up."
The man hiding by the door frame laughed. "We already took care of the guards. There's nobody here but him, it's fiiine."
"But what if HE has his own secret back-up? What then? Well, it's too late now so just keep a look-out, alright?"
Zephyrus laughed again. "Sure."
"Alright." Protesilaus pointed his sword at Tubbo. "Show us to the weapons."
×××
There wasn't much he could think of doing to stall except try and tap in the pin codes on the doors as slowly as humanly possible. To be fair he didn't even really know what he was stalling for exactly. Secret back-up would have been nice but if they’d really taken out all the guards then none was likely to come.
Protesilaus was following him, sword in hand, making random small talk on the way as if he didn't know how to deal with the silence. Tubbo had only caught a few glimpses of Zephyrus, the winged man, in the background or in reflections. He seemed to be tampering with the security systems on the way, meaning that Tubbo really might be completely alone on this if the sabotage was successful. Zephyrus was also pulling along a big wheeled container of some sort that was probably intended for the weapons.
The two of them were the known members of the Syndicate, a team of anarchist terrorists who gave nightmares to the local police forces, the national guard and occasionally the military, but it was also widely theorized to have a secret third member with fire powers. Nobody had ever managed to catch them in the act, the only evidence of the secret member's existence was the trail of smoking ruins following the pair, their targets always burned down in a blaze of extremely memorable pink flames.
Tubbo had a theory that there were actually two secret members in the Syndicate, because if you're going to have one secret member you might as well have two, right? Maybe even three! It just made sense.
His assistants hadn't seemed convinced by this logic.
They arrived at the large hall leading up to the main vault where the prototypes were hidden and Tubbo finally had a plan. Somebody (probably him, honestly) had left the remote control of his battle bots lying around on a sidetable. He took advantage of his captors checking the space for surprise guards and inched slowly towards the remote.
"Everything good up there?" Protesilaus called out to Zephyrus who had flown up to the rafters.
"All good."
"Alright, seems safe enough", said Protesilaus. "Now, open the vault."
Tubbo just needed to stall a little bit longer until he could grab the remote undetected. "Actually, maybe I just won't be able to live with the fact that I let you guys get your hands on superweapons? What if I'd rather die than let you have them?"
Protesilaus sighed. "Look, don't worry, it's for a good cause, I promise."
"I mean, you guys are supervillains."
"Oh yeah sure, you're literally making weapons for an imperialist government but we're the villains?"
"What about that orphanage you burned down?" Tubbo kept moving towards the sidetable, trying to make it look like he was just pacing nervously.
"I have NEVER burned down any orphanages, I do NOT have an irrational hatred of small children, in fact I LOVE orphans in particular, you can ask anyone."
"You did, though! That was like two years ago, back when you were part of the Sleepy Bois Inc!"
Tubbo actually knew quite a lot about the Sleepy Bois, the infamous villain team who were particularly known for conning people into taking part in some sort of strange experiments, like that time they somehow transported a hundred people to the moon and told them to terraform a random area. The group had broken up a while back and two of the four had since reformed. Well, more or less reformed anyway. Actually not really reformed, but they were at least sticking to smaller crimes these days.
Anyway Mr. Business was now one of Tubbo's best friends, although nobody was supposed to know that. And Dirty Crime Boy seemed like a surprisingly nice guy. He was out there running what seemed to be some kind of a drug van but Tubbo had chosen not to worry about it too much.
The other two members, however...
"Sleepy Boys? Doesn't ring a bell." Protesilaus' face was suspiciously blank.
"You know, back when you called yourself the Blood God."
"Nah nah nah, I'm Protesilaus, not the Blood God."
"Come on, you're OBVIOUSLY the Blood God."
"I've never even heard of that guy."
"You're LITERALLY a pigman with superhealing powers and a shiny magical sword, you wear a crown AND you're hanging out with a blond guy with wings who looks just like the Angel of Death."
"Wow, wild coincidence", said Protesilaus
“Not gonna lie, the Angel of Death is a really cool name“, said Zephyrus.
Tubbo ignored them. "And you sound exactly like the Blood God."
"I don't hear it", said Protesilaus.
"You said you don't even know who he is!"
"Exactly."
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'EXACTLY'??? THAT DOESN'T EVEN MAKE SENSE!!!"
"Well I can't hear it if I've never even heard him speak. That's just logic."
Up in the rafters Zephyrus was cackling like a madman.
"You annoy me so much", said Tubbo.
"Aaaanyways, just give us a little peek into the vault, alright? Just out of curiosity, you know."
Tubbo had made it to the remote, he just needed one more distraction to cover for him grabbing it. "Uh..." Then he had an idea: he just took a quick sudden glance at the exit, as if he'd seen something over there and sure enough both of the criminals immediately turned to check. It was just long enough. He got the remote. "Okay fine, you can see the vault."
"Nice, nice." Protesilaus was still glancing around suspiciously but he had no idea what he should have been suspicious of.
Tubbo was more than happy to open the vault now. It might be holding the prototypes but it was also filled with a small army of robots.
All of which came to life with the press of a button.
"Ah", said Protesilaus. "There's his secret back-up."
"Oh Jesus", said Zephyrus. "I think we fucked up."
"You could say that", said Tubbo. "If you just leave peacefully I might let you go", he added in a sudden fit of uncharacteristic levels of confidence.
Protesilaus raised his sword. "Well you see, I really want those weapons, though."
"I guess you'll just have to fight the robots for it then", said Tubbo, configuring the targetting system.
"Mate, they've got guns on them", Zephyrus called out from above.
"Take cover then", said Protesilaus, very much not taking any cover at all himself.
Tubbo, pretty sure the bots knew which people to fight, released them on the criminals.
Protesilaus immediately managed to dodge the first few lazer bolts from the bots, but the third hit him on the arm. He flinched a bit but didn't seem too bothered. "Ouch. Okay so they can actually aim."
Still dancing around the shots, he held his hand to the wound and once he took it off, only the singed hole on his sleeve remained. The Blood God had been known for some kind of healing powers and coincidentally Protesilaus of the Syndicate, who apparently definitely wasn't the Blood God, just happened to also have healing powers. This fight was going to be hard even for thirty robots.
The pigman finally took some cover, hiding behind a pillar. The robots would have to move closer and Tubbo could already tell that if he'd manage to single them out, Protesilaus would easily take them down one by one.
Even worse, Zephyrus had hidden behind a different pillar up near the ceiling and was sniping the bots from above. They were supposed to be bulletproof but the man was absolutely cracked and managed to keep hitting them in the joints and in the eyes.
But at least the bots had given Tubbo some room to work with. He bolted into the vault and headed straight for a very specific section.
"So I just wanna know, professor", Protesilaus called out from the hall, "how are you NOT the evil mastermind here? You have a LITERAL horde of robots in your control that you can just let loose on people!"
"What do you MEAN? They're for fighting people like you! In this exact kind of situation!" Tubbo found what he was looking for and quickly unbuckled the huge harnesses holding it in place. He had to get a stool to reach the highest ones and nearly tripped on it in his hurry.
"Oh and how many of these have you sold to the government? And what if they just decide that they'd be very convenient for taking care of dissenters?"
"Well if the dissenters are literal supervillains, that sounds great." He climbed the ladder on the wall up to the platform by the mech suit and jumped inside.
He couldn't hear what Protesilaus responded after he pulled down the dome of the suit over his body. The sounds of fighting and the bulletproof glass drowned it all out from this distance, and the sound system wasn’t turned on yet. Now the odds should be a lot more even, though. Let’s see how they deal with this, he thought. He settled in and launched the mech--
... and then maneuvered awkwardly through the mess of secret weapons and machines inside his vault. He was pretty sure he didn't break too many things on the way, it was fine. In the corner of his eye he thought he saw a flash of pink and for a second he worried that the pigman had followed him into the vault where it would be almost impossible for him to fight in the suit but luckily he could still hear the sound of sword clanging into metal from outside.
He moved over to the vault door as sneakily as he could while piloting a 12-foot-tall machine in a tight space and looked out into the hall. The floor was littered with broken robots, and there were several blinded ones aimlessly wandering around and getting in the way of the ones that still functioned properly. Protesilaus was towards the back of the hall, stabbing a bot in the armpit and tearing off its arm, Zephyrus on the other hand, still perching on the rafters, had moved around the pillar he had hidden behind, now aiming away from the vault. Neither of them were looking at Tubbo. He took aim and shot at one of the huge grey wings.
"Ah! Fuck!" Zephyrus spun around. "You little shit!"
"Zephyrus, are you okay??" Protesilaus immediately looked over to his ally and took another hit himself.
"I'm FINE, dude!" Zephyrus sounded exasperated but fond. "Look out yourself! Also the kid has a fucking mech."
"A what?"
Tubbo slammed the vault door shut. Good luck getting in there now, Syndicate. Then he tossed aside some robot carcasses to clear out the floor and threw one at Protesilaus who dodged it easily but in the process took another hit from a different robot. He was starting to look tired and he was obviously distracted by Zephyrus getting hurt. That was promising.
Tubbo started climbing the pillar up to the ceiling. Zephyrus cursed again and tried to hop around the pillar to run across to the other side but his hurt wing didn't open properly so he lost his balance, slipped up and fell. "Shit!"
"ZEPHYRUS!"
The man managed to open his wings and soften the fall but the injury made him veer dangerously to the left and crash into a pile of broken robots. Protesilaus leaped over to him, dropping his sword and laying his hands on his friend's wing and back. A faint red glow emitted from the touch points.
Tubbo jumped back down to the ground and stormed at them. He punched the pigman right in the chin, sending him flying across the room. He then tried to grab Zephyrus but the man had already slipped away and had apparently managed to pick up his friend's sword. "You motherfucker", the man said, "I'm going to take that fucking suit apart and then it's your turn."
"Zeph!" Protesilaus called from the side and Zephyrus tossed the sword to him without taking his eyes of off Tubbo. Then the man pulled up his sniper rifle again and Tubbo quickly covered his weak points with his armoured arms and jumped behind a pillar. He needed to disarm Zephyrus ASAP.
Behind them, Protesilaus was taking care of the last few robots. Tubbo didn't have much time, but he couldn't do anything until Zephyrus would have to reload, the guy was just too accurate...
"Oh fuck", said Zephyrus suddenly. "Prot, the door!"
They all turned to look at the exit.
There, at the door, was Ranboo, widened eyes flicking between Tubbo, the broken robots and the Syndicade. He was holding a bowl of biscuits and a cup of tea. "Uh... hello? Hi?"
Ranboo was actually NOT allowed in the vaults but how do you stop someone who can literally teleport anyway? Tubbo was glad to see him sneaking in, though.
"Ranboo! Help! They're trying to steal the weapons!"
"I..." Ranboo seemed frozen in place.
"Ranboo!" Tubbo was starting to get worried. His husband wasn't even taking any shelter. He drove the mech over to him to at least give him some protection.
"I just came to bring you cookies? Coz I thought maybe you were staying late to make the deadline and I thought--"
"Ranboo, I'm being attacked by supervillains right now!"
"Look, what if we just talked this through? I'm sure everybody here would rather not kill each other, right?" Ranboo was tall enough to lay a hand on Tubbo's shoulder even when he was wearing the mech suit which kind of pissed Tubbo off to be quite honest.
"Sure", said Protesilaus, "I love negotiating. Give us the weapons and their blueprints and we're more than happy to go."
"See? That's good, right? Tubbo, we can just let them have the weapons."
"Ranboo, sometimes you're a bit too quirky for my liking. Stop being quirky, help me fight them. You can use your... T-E-L-I-P-O-R-T-A-T-I-O-N powers."
Everybody just stared at him for a second.
"Shouldn't it be T-E-L-E?" said Protesilaus.
"Tubbo, you realise they can spell words too, you know, like most people who graduated elementary school?" said Ranboo.
"I'M SORRY! I'M TIRED, OKAY?"
“You could have just said ‘use your powers’, I mean, I know what my powers are.”
“IT'S BEEN A REALLY LONG DAY!“
"Zephyrus, I think this guy might be too much for us, I've never met such intimidating intellect", said Protesilaus. Zephyrus seemed to already be dying of laughter and his ally's words did not help.
"Now that's just rude," said Tubbo.
He'd barely finished his sentence when a horrible whistling sound hit them all like an invisible cargo train. After a second Tubbo managed to reassemble his braincells long enough to figure it out: "The fire alarm!"
Then he noticed the grin on his enemy's face. "Well, good job, everyone! Let's go home, Zephyrus", said Protesilaus cheerfully.
"Sure, mate."
The secret third member of the Syndicate, Tubbo suddenly remembered. The container they'd brought with them was gone too. Well, fuck. "This whole thing was a diversion??"
"Yep." The Protesilaus was already at the exit and Zephyrus was following right behind him. "See ya, losers!"
Something inside the vault exploded, making a muffled bang through the door, as if just to prove where exactly the fire had been lit.
"Oh man..." Tubbo flopped down on his seat. "I spent SO LONG building all those things!"
"Tubbo, we need to get out." Ranboo took him by the hand of his mech suit and pulled him along.
"No, we could still go in and save the--"
"No, Tubbo. Let's NOT run into the vault full of dangerous chemicals that's literally on fire, actually."
×××
By the time the fire department showed up, pink flames had enveloped the entire lab complex. The terrorists presumably had at least one of the prototypes now and all the remaining ones were a lost cause.
It's not like all the work was gone to waste, they'd made some backups at least, but it would be a pain to find a new lab and order all the extremely volatile chemicals again. So much paperwork. Tubbo was really not good at paperwork.
"Well, there goes my summer holidays I guess", he said.
"Yeah", said Ranboo. "There they go."
×××
"So... Lethe", said Techno at the next Syndicate meeting, "you never happened to mention you were friends with Professor Underscore."
Ranboo shifted nervously in his chair. "I mean... in my defence, you never said you were going to raid his lab?"
"True, true. It didn't seem like relevant information at the time I suppose. You know, because you're kinda more in the group just for the book club and Bake Off Fridays and not so much for the vigilante thing."
"How do you know Professor Underscore, Lethe?" asked Niki gently.
Ranboo looked around the table. He was fairly certain that the others wouldn't kill him for fraternizing with the enemy. He was pretty sure anyway. At least 70% sure.
Also they were all staring at him now.
"Uh... he's my... husband?"
The staring continued.
"Oh!" said Niki.
"Well", said Techno. "This is awkward."
"Uh huh?" Ranboo responded, his entire body tense and slightly wobbly.
"Techno", Phil said softly. Techno brushed him off.
"So uh, are you attached to him, Lethe?"
"Y-yes?" Ranboo straightened his back. "Yes." he said again, more firmly.
"Alright. I guess in the future we should try not to kill him then."
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Stalker X Stalker, Part 4
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Perma tag: @nathleigh
Stalker x Stalker taglist: @aespades @jayjayspixiepop @blueslushgueen @fan-written @seraphichana @nerd-nowandforever
Marinette almost missed Hawkmoth. Sure, she ended up extremely emotionally repressed, but hey! At least her opponent was stupid, at least she never had to fear losing.
But, yeah, that was why she didn’t notice the fact that chloroform was on the floor. That was way too smart for a villain, in her opinion. Wasn’t Joker supposed to be insane or something? Why wasn’t he completely stupid like Hawkmoth had been?
Those were her last thoughts before her vision blacked out.
She blinked her eyes open one time while she was being transported, but… it wasn’t enough. Her head pounded, her limbs felt like lead. She tried to pull one of her arms away from the five goons carrying her around -- she giggled at how much effort they were going through to keep a half-conscious person down -- but it was too weak to even break their grip. She wasn’t going to be getting out of the situation anytime soon.
She rested her head back against the chest of whoever was carrying her head.
Her eyes fluttered shut without her permission.
It took a while for her to be able to open her eyes again, and when she did she was almost tempted to close them. She was tied up with Red Robin, hanging upside down over a vat of acid. Decidedly not a good situation to be in. Maybe she could ignore it for a little longer…?
She buried her face in the neck of Red Robin’s suit, using the cool material as a kind of cold pack to try and soothe her pounding headache.
… wait... Red Robin!
She had a bit of protection because of her mask covering her mouth and nose and miraculous immune system, but he was a human and both his mouth and nose were uncovered! Shit!
Marinette pulled back as much as she could to check his face and see if he was okay and then cursed the domino mask blocking his eyes from her view. What she could see wasn’t good, though: the skin of his face had broken out into hives where he had come into contact with the chloroform. Ouch.
She tried just poking the good parts of his face with her nose to get him to wake up, but clearly that wasn’t working. Alright, new plan.
“Red Robin?” She whispered.
Nothing.
“Red Robin Red Robin Red Red Red Red Red…”
She was pretty sure she was doing this annoying thing right. She didn’t have siblings, how could she know?
Wait wait wait, what was that one thing that his siblings always said to him?
“Reeeeed Robin, yum~.”
Not even that got a response? Damn, he must really be out of it.
Time for drastic measures, then.
She tipped her head back as far back as it could go and then slammed her forehead against his. This evoked a lot of swearing from both parties. Apparently, headbutting people doesn’t help headaches.
When her head stopped ringing as loudly, she peeked her eyes open. “Sorry, checking to see if you were alive.”
He gave about as much of a nod as he could. “It’s… I understand why you had to do it.”
She gave a tentative smile. “Right. Still, sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he assured her, then glanced down to see what they were working with. He bit his lip anxiously. “Ah, that’s not good,” he said after a few moments of consideration.
She rolled her eyes because, yeah, obviously. She didn’t say that aloud, it wasn’t productive, so she said: “I’m going to squirm. See if you can free your arms a little?”
“Do you think I have some kind of gadget in my gloves for every situation?”
“Don’t you?”
He hesitated. “I mean… yes, I do have something that could help us out of the ropes, but we are kinda over acid right now. How fast is your reaction time?”
She tipped her head from side to side with an awkward smile. “Not great.”
“Then maybe we should just wait for backup --.”
“Do you think they’ll get here before Joker does?”
“... you’re right. Start squirming --.”
“Wow, you two hate me that much? I’m hurt,” a voice cooed.
Marinette jumped out of her skin. She craned her neck to glare at Joker for scaring her…
And immediately regretted it. Why was his face not attached to his skull properly? Did he cut his own face off? Who even does that? Ew.
Red Robin scowled at him. “I can’t say we were all glad to hear you were out.”
“Red Robin...” she warned.
“Wow, not even old Batsy was happy to hear the news?”
“Nope. Didn’t say anything, actually.”
Joker’s smile wavered. “He didn’t?”
“Um, Red,” she tried again.
“Nothing,” he confirmed. “Not. A. Word.”
Joker didn’t seem to know what to do about this information. Batman wasn’t even paying attention to him? What was the point, then?
Marinette was also concerned about what was going on, but for a completely different reason. She leaned close to his ear and whispered: “Why are we trying to anger the psychopath?”
He gave as much of a shrug as he could while tied up. “If he’s talking he’s not trying to kill us.”
“And what if he gets angry enough to kill us?”
“He probably won’t.”
She winced. “Okay, I really don’t like your use of ‘probably’ there --.”
With both of their hands forced behind their backs, the only comfort he could really give was pressing his good cheek to hers. It shouldn’t have worked, but apparently life or death situations mess with your emotions.
“Just… trust me?” He pleaded quietly.
She sucked in a deep breath before turning to glare at Joker, who was still having a crisis over the fact that Batman didn’t care as much as he did. Well, she guessed that she had to take out her headache on someone. Might as well be the bitch in ugly clown makeup.
“You know, I don’t even understand why people are scared of you.”
Joker frowned and turned to look at her. “What?”
“I mean, I get why Poison Ivy is feared, I get why Mr. Freeze is feared… I even get Penguin and Riddler since they both have a high enough intellect to make up for their lack of powers… but you’re just… some guy.”
Joker gave her a cold look. “I could kill you.”
“So could a particularly determined cow, you’re not special.”
Red Robin snickered. She smiled, a little proud of herself for making him laugh.
Their grins were wiped off their faces when the rope holding them up dropped.
It caught them again dangerously close to the acid. Red Robin was a few centimeters from getting a new haircut. Marinette wondered, morbidly, whether her suit would go with her if she disintegrated.
“Not going to kill us, huh?”
“... well, I did say probably,” he mumbled, his face a little red.
She swallowed thickly. “If we live, I’m going to kill you.”
“Fair. Want to mess with him if he’s going to kill us anyways?”
“... yes.” She whipped around to glare at Joker again. “I mean, honestly, why aren’t you dead yet?”
“We don’t kill,” supplied Red Robin.
She grinned. “Sure, and I get that. I’m also not fond of murder... but is every citizen in Gotham just agreeing to not kill him? Does Batman spend all his time making sure that civilians don’t do it? Why hasn’t anyone seen him on the street and just tried to run him over?”
“... I mean, Robin hit him with the Batmobile once.”
“See?” She grinned. “And don’t even get me started on Punchline and your goons, Joker. How did you find so many people loyal to you?”
“I love him!” Said Punchline defensively.
“... sweetie, if you want a pasty white guy with green hair just watch 2016 Jacksepticeye.”
Red Robin nodded. “At least he’s kind of funny sometimes.”
“If you need the guy to be evil, how about the evil alter ego he made… what was he called?”
“Antisepticeye.”
“Ha, you’re a fucking nerd,” Marinette teased.
Red Robin blushed (or maybe that was just the blood slowly rushing to their heads from being upside down for so long) and pointedly ignored her: “Look up Antisepticeye. It’ll probably be healthier for you.”
Punchline didn’t have a retort for that. Marinette was deciding that was because she was considering it, not because she probably didn’t know who Jack/Antisepticeye was.
She pushed on: “And, hey, you goons don’t have to give Punchline over there the glory. Stab your boss. C’mon, it’ll be cool. Doubt he’s paying you more than whatever bounty is on his head, anyways.”
“If you’re going to rally henchmen maybe you shouldn’t call them ‘goons’,” suggested Red Robin.
She pouted. “But ‘goons’ sounds cuter.”
He opened his mouth to retort but she’d never know what he was going to say because, at that moment, Signal and Robin came busting in through the skylight.
~
Tim relaxed when he heard the glass shatter. Whether Marientte’s henchmen rallying had somehow worked or their backup had come, it at least meant that Joker and Punchline were distracted from wanting to murder them.
He struggled to crane his neck to see what was going on.
Oh. Damn. Damian was back from his angsting on the weird murder island? And he was here? Nevermind, he’d prefer Joker and Punchline. Damian was never going to let him live this down.
Speaking of Damian, a weight jumped onto their ropes and the three vigilantes became a pendulum. Tim grit his teeth tightly and Marinette let loose a long string of swears as their headaches worsened.
But, apparently, the world wasn’t done with them. Damian sliced the line at the highest point and they went flying across the room. Tim was the unlucky one on the bottom when they hit the ground, which he doubted was an accident.
Damian left them to deal with things on their own from there. Least he could have done was cut them free with his katana, but Tim supposed that was too much to wish for from the youngest brother.
He rested his head back against the cool floor for a second. He could feel Marinette stretch across his shoulder to do the same. They sighed in relief. This was the closest they had come to treating their headaches and wow was it nice.
But, frankly, resting in the middle of a fight isn’t a great idea. So, they wriggled around on the floor until he was able to flick open the tiny knife in the index finger of his gloves and cut the rope binding them without, y’know, cutting one of them instead.
Freedom! What did they do with this newfound freedom, you may ask? Scratch their heads. Turns out chloroform sucks for many reasons and one of those is that it’s a major skin irritant.
He also vomited. Thank god they’d been freed. He’d been only a few seconds away from throwing up on Marinette. He felt especially bad about that when she peeled a hand from her itching to hold his hair away from his face.
The fight was over soon enough. Duke and Damian came over to watch the two of them attempting to peel their skin off layer by layer.
“Pathetic,” chided Damian.
“Don’t be a dick --.” Marinette cut herself off, her hand flying to her mouth. “I swore in front of a baby.”
“I’m twelve!”
“Exactly: a baby.” She reached out and cupped a very affronted Damian’s face in her hands. “Look, you still have baby fat! You shouldn’t be fighting crime!”
Tim couldn’t tell if she was messing with Damian for being rude to them or if she genuinely saw him as a little kid. He wasn’t going to correct her. She’d remember he was a gremlin soon enough.
Damian wrenched his face from her grip. “If I hadn’t come you two would have been burned in acid.”
“Please, we all know Signal probably could have dealt with this entirely on his own,” Marinette waved him off.
Duke rested a hand over his heart like he was touched.
Tim rolled his eyes and pulled Marinette to him, resting his head on top of hers lazily. “We should get a checkup at the cave. Chloroform has… not nice effects and we both rolled around in it a little while fighting.”
Duke and Damian both winced, but Marinette didn’t seem all that concerned.
“I’ll be fine. My immune system is enhanced by --.”
Duke clapped his hands by her ears as loudly as he could. Neither Marinette nor Tim were particularly happy about it.
“Behold: a headache, one of the main symptoms of chloroform. Your face also has some red streaks, so don’t even try to deny that the chloroform is affecting you.”
“I take back my praise, I’ve decided I hate you,” she murmured, massaging her temples.
“I just remembered that I need the siren on my bike on to tell all the other bats we’ll need them at the cave...”
“Wait, no --.”
~
Marinette glared at Black Bat and Spoiler. The batboys had left the infirmary area for her own comfort and that was nice of them but she would really prefer if she hadn’t had to come at all.
Now she sat in some of Black Bat’s pajamas and one of Spoiler’s spare masks as they inspected her.
Her nose scrunched as Black Bat drew blood from her arm.
“This is dumb. I don’t need this.”
“We’ve been told. Humor us?” Spoiler said and, though Marinette couldn’t see her face from where she was, she knew she was rolling her eyes.
“I would if you were actually funny.”
“I think we can definitely put her down for irritability,” commented Spoiler.
Black Bat nodded and dutifully wrote it down. Traitor.
The cool metal of a stethoscope was pressed to her back and she cringed.
“Deep breaths.”
Marinette complied, however reluctantly. Might as well get all this bullshit over with as soon as possible.
… she was regretting that decision, now, though.
She gave Batman a cold look. “You can’t keep me here.”
“You need to stay so we can monitor your state overnight. You could have asphyxiated.”
“But we didn’t,” complained Red Robin, who looked just as annoyed about this as she was.
“We have lives, B,” she said.
“You weren’t going to do anything other than patrols tonight, don’t act like I’m tearing you away from something important.”
“The protection of the city is important,” Red argued.
“Neither of you would be much help tonight in the state you’re in, anyways.”
Red Robin stuck his lower lip out in a pout. Marinette gave her best puppy-dog eyes.
Batman wasn’t moved. “If you need something, Agent A will provide it.”
She blinked, eyes returning to normal in her confusion. “Who --?”
He disappeared into the shadows before she could finish the conversation, something she was, unfortunately, getting used to.
Marinette scowled at where he had last been.
Maybe she should have expected this, maybe if she had been less out of it she would have. They had given her pajamas when she’d had clothes and insisted on cleaning her old ones ‘for chloroform’. The checkup might have been a genuine checkup on her state, but it probably wouldn’t have mattered what the results were. She was always going to end up staying the night in the cold, dingy cave filled with bats.
She sighed and laid back against the stone floors. She heard Red Robin groan and looked up to see he had been locked out of the Batcomputer for the night. He leaned back in his chair and mumbled curses.
She giggled at his distress and, despite himself, a tiny grin poked at his lips.
“Want to race to see who can hack into it first?” She suggested.
He raised an eyebrow at her under his domino. “Think you can win?”
“Considering I don’t know that much about hacking, I’m going to say probably not.”
A wide smile spread across his face, now, and he waved her over. She took a seat on the desk beside the keyboard and he started teaching her everything.
Most of what he said, while technically heard, wasn’t exactly understood. She couldn’t concentrate. It was the first time she had seen him in anything but his vigilante suit and she decided that that was a crime because he looked so cute in the Batman-themed pajamas. Furthermore, the way his long hair was pushed back by a headband to keep it out of the green paste spread over his face to alleviate the chloroform’s rash reminded her of a spa day in all those movies.
And then there was the smile. It made her heart flutter in her chest because she was so used to his grins but this was just a genuine smile. He looked so passionate about the intricacies of cyber crime. She was almost sad about the domino hiding his eyes because she wanted to see the way they lit up while he explained different ways viruses could be accidentally downloaded to devices.
Basically, she was a mess for this random cute guy she worked with. She had never seen him so casual and at ease and it felt far more intimate than it maybe should.
She rested her head on her hand, nodding along as he talked about data encryption versus decoding.
Well, maybe a forced sleepover in the Batcave wouldn’t be so bad...
~
Tim was suffering a lot more than he would ever admit, and only a small part of it was due to chloroform.
He was going to be having a sleepover with one of his idols and he was going to be spending a large amount of the time trying not to throw up. And she could totally tell, too, why else would she be watching him so intensely? Someone kill him, please. He was so glad he had a secret identity because he didn’t know how he would manage if she thought Tim Drake-Wayne was a loser.
Granted, she was going to think Red Robin was a loser... but at least he had a second chance as Tim.
He rested his chin on the back of his chair. He had hacked into the Batcomputer already but it was a relatively dull night out on patrols and he wasn’t eager to be yelled at for showing Marinette some files on top of already hacking into them when he wasn’t supposed to.
“Wanna do something?”
She grinned. “Is there anything to do here other than train?”
“... nothing approved.”
She tipped her head to the side. “And of the things that aren’t approved?”
He matched her grin. “Well…”
And that was how he ended up setting up a movie projector in the cave so they could watch Groundhog Day. Marinette had taken to making them a pillow fort.
Duke stumbled down the steps, half awake, and raised his eyebrows at them from behind his domino. He poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot that they had made and took a long sip before sending the two of them a wary look. “Do I want to know?”
Marinette didn’t look up from her and Tikki’s base construction. “Dunno. Do you want to watch Groundhog Day with us?”
He frowned. “Isn’t that the one where that guy in a time loop stalks his co-worker until he knows enough to make her fall in love with him?”
“Just say you don’t like romcoms and go,” Marinette irritably.
“I’m fine with romcoms, it’s just… a little messed up that he uses the knowledge he gets from being in a time loop to ensure she falls for him?”
“It’s a story about self-improvement,” Tim said, sending his brother a glare. “He grows as a person until he is worthy of her love.”
“Him learning about her is part of his arc. He starts off selfish and he ends it with a deeper appreciation for other people,” agreed Marinette.
Duke held his free hand up in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. Enjoy your stalker movie.”
“It’s not a --,” Tim tried to argue, but Duke was already heading back upstairs.
He huffed a little and finished setting up the computer and projector, then took a seat in the pillow fort. She poured each of them a cup of coffee, put a straw in hers to maintain her identity, and then took a seat beside him.
He took it from her with a bright smile and turned on the movie.
She rested her head on his shoulder as the happy-go-lucky music started up.
Unfortunately for them, they didn’t manage to stay awake for all that long. Duke had drugged the coffee pot.
~
Marinette shifted awake a while later and promptly decided that being awake sucked.
Nothing about her current situation sucked, of course. At some point during the night they had fallen asleep and now she was laying half on top of Red Robin, clinging to him like a koala. He didn’t seem all that upset about it, though, with his arm wrapped around her and his face buried in her hair.
Unfortunately, the time on the bottom right of the Batcomputer’s screen told her she didn’t have much time to enjoy it.
She started the slow process of extracting herself from him. Getting the arm off of herself was easy, getting his face away from her head was much harder (this wasn’t helped by the fact that the paste on his face had stuck to her hair).
There was one scare where she thought he was going to wake up. She pushed herself off of his chest and he took a long breath in. Marinette froze, watching his lips tighten… and then he turned over in his sleep.
Oops, apparently she’d been suffocating him a little in her sleep. Sorry, Red.
Well, at least she was free now.
She slipped out of the pillow fort and glanced at the time again.
Even less time to do what she needed. Because that’s how time works.
She sighed and called Tikki over with a tiny wave of her hand, walking over the edge of the railing. She looked down at the abyss that stretched many feet below.
Tikki couldn’t have looked more disapproving if she tried.
“It’s just a little insurance,” Marinette signed.
This didn’t make Tikki any less upset with her, but she hadn’t really expected it to. She signed for her transformation. She tied herself to the railing with her yoyo as a precaution and then hooked her legs around the railing.
And down she went.
She flexed at an awkward angle, flashlight in her mouth, and stuck a tracker to the bottom of the platform.
And, really, she wasn’t intending on using it. Like she said, it was just insurance. They had drawn blood from her earlier and she knew for a fact that it wasn’t necessary for chloroform inhalation. The only reason that made sense for that was that they wanted to check and see if she had inhaled some but they already knew that so… what did they want with her blood?
She was willing to bet it had something to do with her secret identity. And, hey, she didn’t particularly care if they knew her identity, she trusted them, but if it ever got out because of them revealing then who the bats were would be 1) revenge and 2) a good distraction.
“Hey --?”
Thank the kwamis she had tied herself to the railing because she’d been surprised enough to let go of the platform.
“Shit, sorry!” Said Red Robin.
She pulled herself back up onto the platform with his help and then collapsed on the cool stone. She spat the flashlight from her mouth. “Fuuuuuuck, don’t do that again, please.”
“Sorry,” he said again. Then he glanced back at where she had been and, momentarily, his lips pulled into a frown. “I gotta ask: what were you doing?”
“Hm?”
Shitshitshit.
“Oh, I wanted to see if there was anything down there or if it was just for The Aesthetic.”
“Why not just use your yoyo to go down?”
She shuddered. “The flashlight barely did anything. Would you want to go down into that darkness with no clue even how far down it goes?”
He seemed to accept the answer. “It’s an old iron mine. No one uses it anymore, though.”
She nodded her understanding.
She pushed herself back up to a sitting position and looked at him.
“The bats don’t get back for a while and we’re still on lockdown, so… want to do something?”
~
Damian was the first one to get home. Apparently he had broken a leg on patrol. This was fine (well, maybe he shouldn’t have been driving himself, but whatever).
What was not fine was that he had promptly decided to be an asshole.
Tim and Marinette had been playing Minecraft on the Batcomputer and, like all younger brothers, Damian asked to play.
And, like all older brothers, Tim barely looked up from his controller to tell him: “No.”
Damian looked to be on the verge of a meltdown.
Marinette sighed and sent Tim a tired look. “Red, don’t be mean. He’s just a kid. There’s more controllers, we can just give him one.”
“But…” He started. Damian was a terrible partner to play Minecraft with because he never helped out with anything except for the farm.
However, Marinette was looking at him expectantly. Tim bit his lip, considering.
Damian looked between the two of them and a wicked grin spread across his face and oh no.
Damian took a seat next to Marinette and gave her puppy-dog eyes (a real feat, considering the fact that he was wearing a domino and therefore his eyes were invisible). “Miss Ladybug, can’t you please make him let me play?”
Marinette gave Tim a tired look. “Red, c’mon, just for a bit.”
Damian smirked a little but, by the time Marinette turned back around, he had schooled his face back into a pout.
She handed him her controller. “You can have mine. I’ll find another for myself.”
The two watched her leave and Tim sent his younger brother a glare. “I can’t believe you would embarrass yourself this much just to play a game.”
“Anything to annoy you, ‘big bro’.”
He opened his mouth to retort, but then Marinette came back and all he could do was send him a glare behind her back.
Damian retaliated by sitting himself on Marinette’s lap. She looked down, amusement making her eyes crinkle, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge it. Damian smirked and stuck his tongue out at Tim.
That little shit.
And it continued on for hours while the three of them waited for the rest of the bats to come back. Damian would cling to Marinette in some way and he would become the bad guy for glaring at a child. He was seriously considering breaking the No Killing Rule for this kid.
Finally, though, people started coming back and apparently Damian thought it too embarrassing to do such a thing in front of more than just the person he was trying to annoy because he clambered off her lap to play just a little bit away.
Bruce was the last one to come in and he looked at his kids with the patented Batdad Glare because they had managed to drag Steph into playing with them (without much effort) and Cass into watching (with much more effort). Which meant that there were currently five family disappointments. Yay them.
Tim smiled innocently. “What? We got bored. Maybe you should let us out so this doesn’t happen again.”
“I’m keeping you here for your own safety.”
Marinette and Tim both groaned.
“I have work to do.”
“Me, too.”
Bruce didn’t relent because he was a stubborn asshole.
But that was fine. They really hadn’t expected them to. Tim glanced at Marinette and she twirled her index finger against her flat palm, the sign for ‘start’.
One flash and smoke bomb later, the two of them were running as fast as they could to his bike. He grinned as he helped his giggling friend get on and hopped up himself. Arms wrapped around him tightly and her face buried in his back. They tore out of the cave, giggling all the while.
104 notes · View notes
cheeriecherry · 4 years
Note
Hi there! I wanted to request Bakugou, Deku. And Todoroki, how they react to their fem!S/O Being sick. Like they're delirious with a fever near hospitalization( but not quite that level), body aches, wet cough. boys get worried when they don't come into work/school/text back. So they come see, and find her as well previously stated. Thank you so much for taking the time to read and answer this!
Ofc! Stay safe everyone and make sure to wear your masks :O
BAKUGOU KATSUKI
-He’s not a clingy guy, so he doesn’t expect you to answer his texts right away or always tell him where you are or what you’re doing.
-That being said, he knows your routine. If something is off a little bit, he’ll be mildly concerned, but will ultimately chalk it up to you being forgetful or spontaneous.
-But after you don’t show up in class, he starts to get worried. 
-He tries to think of whether or not you had any injuries during training that might have excused you from lessons, but he can’t think of any beyond a couple minor scrapes and bruises.
-He sends you a text in between classes, and when you still don’t reply he makes a trip back to the dorms at lunch to check on you.
-He doesn’t expect to find you like...this. 
-Curled up on your bed under nearly a hundred blankets, shivering. Your lips are dry and chapped, and he can hear your laboured breathing from the doorway.
-Now, he doesn’t wanna get sick, but that’s the last thing on his mind as he walks over to you and sits on the side of your bed.
-You don’t even seem to be aware of him as he presses a hand to your forehead, wincing at how hot you are.
-He doesn’t want to leave you, but he knows you’re probably sick enough to warrant a visit from Recovery Girl. Pus you’re his girlfriend, so it’s better to be safe than sorry.
-But like I said, he doesn’t want to leave you alone, in case you start choking or something, so he sends Kirishima a cryptic text telling him to bring recovery girl to the dorms.
-Ngl the bakusquad probably tags along with her when she comes to visit, but she ultimately commends Bakugou for calling her because are, in fact, very ill.
-She considers calling the hospital to have them bring you in, but she wants to try helping you in the comfort of your own room before resorting to extreme measures.
-You’re stuck with an IV in your arm for a couple days, and receive a kiss from the old woman on the forehead every morning, and soon enough you start perking up a little. Your breathing improves, and you start to sweat off the fever.
-Bakugou barely leaves your side during the whole ordeal. He goes to classes, but every morning, lunch, and evening he’s in your room. Sometimes he just sits and works on homework, sometimes he falls asleep.
-He’s been warned not to be near you while your still contagious, but he says fuck authority and does what he wants. You’re more important anyways.
-Still, it’s a relief once you start to feel better, and eventually open your eyes. You don’t remember most of what happened the past few days, but you do recall hearing your boyfriend’s voice a couple times.
-He might not know how to take care of you but he’s good at finding people who do, and he’ll always try and do what’s best for you.
MIDORIYA IZUKU
-one hella worried boy.
-Usually you guys hang out before class starts, but he figures that you maybe slept in today or something. So he sends you a text telling you good morning and heads off to class.
-When he gets there and find you’re not there, he starts to feel bad for not going in to check on you, or at least wake you up. Like, what if something bad happened to you and he just ignored it?
-He doesn’t want to be pushy or overly anxious, but he’s also a worrier by nature so...
-He can’t concentrate during class, thinking to hard about all the things that could have happened to you. He really really hopes you just missed your alarm, but a little niggle in the back of his head tells him that’s not the case.
-He excuses himself to ‘the bathroom’ during second period, and runs as fast and as stealthily as he can back to the dorms, where he then finds you.
-You’re practically gasping for air, laying on your bed. You’ve thrown your covers off because you’re too hot, but you’re also shivering so hard you’re shaking the mattress. He knows as soon as he lays a hand on your forehead that you’re not okay.
-So he does what anyone would do and calls one of his friends...who are in class. He’s somehow surprised when Mr. Aizawa picks up and starts scolding him about his students being in class, but he quickly babbles out that he’s ‘not actually in the bathroom and that he went to check on you because you weren’t in class and you’re really sick and please sir could you get recovery girl’
-There’s a sigh right before the line goes dead, and ten minutes later the tired man himself shows up with the school nurse.
-Once they actually see the state you’re in, and hear your horrible congested coughs, they both start to get worried.
-Again, recovery girl will want to try and avoid any media hubbub involving the school, so she’ll try to treat your symptoms in your room. It works pretty well considering her quirk, but you’re still on thin ice. Your fever is dangerously high, and even with an oxygen mask on you’re still having trouble breathing.
-Not to mention your mumbling...you’re not really aware of what’s going on, but it sounds like you’re trying to have conversations. Everyone worries that you’re hallucinating from the fever.
-Midoriya tries to convince your teacher to let him stay with you, but both Aizawa and recovery girl tell him there’s not anything he can do. It’s best he go back to class...which he reluctantly does. And only because recovery girl is going to stay with you until the end of the day.
-Once classes are over he makes a beeline for your room. His hands are full of little things the rest of the class had given him to give to you, as get-well presents. He sets them on your desk and sits beside you on the bed.
-Recovery girl’s quirk seems to be working, you’re a little more restful and still, though your lungs still sound horrible. He talks to you a little bit, wondering how you got this sick with no one noticing, but how he knows you’ll scold him if he blames himself for it.
-He falls asleep beside you on your bed that night, and the next morning he wakes up to a gentle trembling hand in his hair. 
-He opens his eyes to find you’ve turn onto your side, and are looking at his with a tired gaze. Your eyes are still a little glazed over, and he can tell you’re not really all there yet, but he still smiles at the improvement, as well as that the first thing you thought to do when you woke up was to touch him.
-He makes sure to keep up with his studies over the next few days, and makes lots of notes for you to go over later when you feel better. All his free time is spent in your room, despite the fact that he might catch what you have. He at least wears a mask at recovery girl’s request.
-It’s a major relief when he sees you sitting up and walking slowly around a few days later, though no matter how much you ask he’s not gonna let you try and do schoolwork until you’re at 100%.
-It’s a miracle this guy doesn’t get sick, though everyone kind of keeps a few feet away from him for a while.
TODOROKI SHOUTO
-Doesn’t think anything of it at first. He notices you’re not texting him back, but your phone might be off or dead, or you might be busy.
-He starts to wonder when you don’t show up in class. If you’d been planning to take a day off, you would have told him. Right? He sends you another text, asking if you’re okay, and promptly gets his phone confiscated.
-He gets it back at the end of the day no problem, but when he sees you still haven’t replied, he knows something is up.
-He ignores everyone on the way to the dorms, ducking in between people to try and get there faster.
-When he finds you in a pathetic wheezing ball under a heap of blankets, he instantly feels a pang of guilt. Maybe if he’d been more diligent, he would have learned that you were sick sooner...
-But it’s hard to beat himself up while he’s still got you to worry about.
-He finds a couple towels and old shirts around your room, and wraps them around some ice blocks he made, then sets them all over your body to help bring your temperature down.
-There’s no one in his phone contacts that he could really call in this situation, so he reluctantly settles for the class president. He’s always wanting to look out for fellow students, after all.
-So Iida shows up, takes on look at you, and sprints away to get recovery girl. Todo didn’t think it was that bad, but he mostly trusts Iida’s judgement, so...
-And then recovery girl comes in and confirms that yes, you are very sick. Very sick indeed.
-And the worry flares up in him again. He watches as she fixes you with IV fluids and antibiotics, and sets an oxygen mask across your face. He can’t help but notice how small and vulnerable you look in this state, and how he wants nothing more than for you to get better.
-He wonders if you should go to the hospital, if it would be better for you there, but recovery girl wants to keep you comfortable. She has most of what she needs at the school, but should your condition not improve in the next day then she’ll definitely arrange for an ambulance.
-Todoroki wonders how he’ll be able to visit you and make sure you’re doing okay if you’re off campus, but ultimately he wants what’s best for you.
-He wears a mask while he’s in your room to try and deter himself from getting sick as well, but he spends most of his time in there. He sometimes does homework, but mostly he’s just laying beside you on your bed thinking (or napping).
-He goes back to his own room to sleep during the night, but the first thing he does when he wakes up is come check on you.
-Your condition steadily improves, but you don’t regain consciousness until the third day, and when you do, the first thing you see if your boyfriend.
-He’s sitting in one of your chairs a little ways away reading, and he doesn’t notice you’re awake at first. When he does see that your eyes are open, he comes to sit on the edge of your bed.
-The first thing he does is give you a lil kiss on the forehead, and then he goes on to explain how you’ve been bedridden for days because of an illness, but how your condition has been getting better over time.
-V grateful that you’re awake now, so much so that he barely even feels the guilt from before. He’s just glad you’re doing okay.
-Gonna wait on you hand and foot for the next week or so, and nothing is too expensive. You want a square watermelon? He’ll get you a square watermelon, whatever you want. He might even try a hand at cooking meals for you, though they’re slightly burnt and overseasoned.
-He tries though, and it’s the thought that counts. He bars most of your classmates from visiting you while you’re recovering, because he doesn’t want to overwhelm you, but after some finagling he agrees to let two in at a time...but only for a couple minutes.
-He wishes he’d paid more attention in the beginning, but he makes up for it by doting on you afterwards.
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minmindreaming · 4 years
Text
Dad Mode | Chapter 1
Word count: 4.5k
Genre: Fluff (with the smallest sprinkle of angst)
Pairings: Dad!Namjoon x Teacher!Reader (feat Kid!Jungkook)
Summary: It’s been three years since the first time he walked into your classroom, small, shy son in his arms, already whining about the first day of class. Yet even as Jungkook now turns 6 you still feel yourself blushing around his cute dad, Namjoon. What happens when you find yourself alone with him? And the two of you struggle to keep your crushes at bay
A.N: 2 years later and I come back with a freaking Dad!Namjoon fic, of course...
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A soft giggle made the man turn around, his eyes wide as he looked around frantically. To the casual listener the sound wouldn’t have sounded any different than any of the other kids running around the playground, but Namjoon could pick that one out in any crowd. He stood up, looking over the large seesaw for his little trickster, but alas, once again he couldn’t find him. “Jungkook I swear to god… I lost okay? I lost, just come out” But the small boy was nowhere to be seen. Namjoon sighed heavily, not even being able to mask his worry as other parents played with their kids happily. “Jungkook… please I-” “Need some help?” The sun shone from behind your frame, blinding Namjoon for a second before he was able to focus his sight. Your smile was the first thing he noticed, as soft as he remembered, always shining with a sense of calmness that even his own nerves couldn’t beat. “I can’t find him…” he admitted without fear, he knew that after all this time there was no way you’d judge him You laughed softly, nodding as you crotched down to his level, looking around the area as you focused your hearing to find the same soft giggle Namjoon had been listening for, “he’s always been the best at hide and seek” you admitted, laughing a tad harder as Namjoon sighed in exasperation. Your eyes trailed towards the large plastic castle left of the seesaw, a few brown strands peaking up from the top floor of the tower, a small smile covering your lips as you spoke, “Kookie… I was about to go start with the class games… But I guess since you’re not here I’m gonna have to ask Taehyung to help m-” and like clockwork, those tiny brown eyes were staring right at you “No!” Namjoon’s mouth fell agape as he saw his son sliding down the castle’s yellow slide and running straight at you, as if he hadn’t just spent the last ten minutes making a fool out of his dad. You opened your arms and instantly the 6 year old ran into them, clinging to you with all the confidence in the world, knowing damn well that he was gonna be the one helping with the class games. “You promised I could help!” he exclaimed, pouting as you stood up with him in your arms “Well, you’re the one who was slacking in your duties to go play hide and seek” you answered, trying hard not to laugh at his shocked face. “It’s not my fault!! Daddy took too long to find me…” And now it was Namjoon’s turn to pout. You turned to the man, giggling softly as he stuttered, trying to think about something to say, something to protect his integrity as a dad… But Jungkook was right, Namjoon had absolutely no idea where he was. You shook your head softly at Namjoon, making sure he knew it was okay before you put Jungkook down on his feet, ignoring the small pout the boy gave you before he ran straight towards his dad’s side. “Why don’t you go get the rest of the boys into our room Kookie? I’m just gonna clean up here and i’ll be right there okay?” you asked as you smiled at him softly The boy nodded excitedly, always happy to help, and not a second later he was running towards the small kindergarten you had started a few years ago. You watched the boy with a small smile, even the sight of him bringing you a sense of joy you knew was special.  
“I swear, he makes me look so bad…” Namjoon groaned, patting down his olive chino pants as he stepped towards you “He’s one of the happiest little boys I know Mr. Kim,” you started, giving him a genuine smile, “he makes you look great” Joon’s eyebrows rose at your words, staring back at you for a second before his eyes softened, whole body relaxing just as his dimples appeared on his face, a small, shy smile on his lips. “He really loves it when you’re able to join for break time, it’s easy to tell, that cheeky smile of his doesn’t leave his face for the rest of the day” you commented, trying not to sound too excited yourself. After all, you were only talking about Jungkook Namjoon looked back at the building Kook had run into, a small smile on his lips as he nods, “yeah… I wish I was able to come more often I just-” “It’s okay,” you said, a hand on his shoulder as you started walking towards the building, “that’s why I’m here Mr. Kim” Namjoon watched as you passed him, his eyes mindlessly trailing down your frame, taking in the way your strands of hair peaked out out your messy bun.. How your cream coloured blouse tucked into the back of your light jeans. The way you always looked entirely too perfect for someone who spent the day looking after children. He caught himself staring, shaking his head lightly before he followed you into the small building and towards the main classroom where he could hear the children welcoming you excitedly. He waved goodbye to a few familiar parents as they started heading home or towards work, the large red clock on the wall signalling to him that class was about to start and he himself should be making his way to work. But he couldn’t help but head in for another peek. He leaned against the classroom’s door frame, smiling as he saw Jungkook running up to you the second you reached your desk, the boy clearly enamored with his teacher. Namjoon tried to hide the smile it brought to his lips, knowing that one came from a deeper place, more dangerous… It wasn’t everyday that he was able to see Jungkook this happy with someone else, of course it would make him feel a certain type of way, but he shouldn’t let that interfere with the somewhat professional relationship he had with you. Jungkook’s caught sight of his father, his large front teeth on full display as he ran towards Namjoon, tiny arms trying their damn hardest to circle the tall man’s legs. Namjoon patted his hair down softly, smiling, “hey, I’ll be back later okay?” he tried, but Jungkook put up no fight, “I know” he smiled up at his dad. He knew Namjoon was always there to take him home.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- You were proud of the fact that you hardly let the kids see you anxious, knowing damn well how easily they can pick up on other people’s anxiety. But right now, listening to your favourite little boy crying his eyes out, it was getting really really hard to stay calm. You stepped closer to Jungkook's desk, the boy with his head shoved up against the wooden table as he tried hiding his tears from you, despite his wails being loud enough to fill the whole room. 
For almost an hour now you had tried calming him down, staying with him as he watched one by one the kids leave at the end of the day, his smile faltering with every single friend that walked out the door. But by the time the last one left, he could barely keep the sobs in. Despite the thousands of apologies Namjoon had already blasted your phone with, the man was still stuck at work. By now, you knew it was inevitable, and you couldn’t fault him from struggling to juggle his work and Jungkook, but the boy did not see it that way. “Kookie… Daddy is just late, you’ll be home soon okay?” you tried, flinching softly as Jungkook wailed louder, “Nooo… He left me here! He left me…” Your heart broke at the hurt you could hear in his voice, and as you looked at the clock once again, your mind was made up. You made your way to the other side of the room, dialling Namjoon’s number as you turned away from Jungkook. It didn’t take him long to pick up, and immediately you could hear the desperation in his voice, the man struggling to stay on the phone as he rushed into his car. “(Y/N) is everything okay?! I’m on my way! I’ll be there soon I-” “Mr.Kim,” you started calmly, not wanting to let him ramble on, “everything is fine, Jungkook is okay… I’m just…” you closed your eyes… trying to stop the blush making its way onto your face, this was what was best for Jungkook, “why don’t I drive him over to your house?” You could hear Namjoon pause, and for a second you regretted your decision, but just as Jungkook sobbed again the man spoke, “really?” “Yeah,” you continued, “I think Jungkook is just uncomfortable not being home, and I know it takes you longer to get here so it might be best for him if I just meet you at your home? It’s no trouble for me to drive hi-” “Yes! Oh my god (Y/N) yes, thank you so much, wow, I-” You cut him off again, the sound of him using your first name finally cracking you and making you blush, “it’s okay! He’ll just be happy to be home… I’ll see you soon then” you finished, perhaps a bit too rushed before you quickly hung up. You stared at the wall for a second, for the first time in years your crush coming back to hit you with full force. But you knew now was not the time to fangirl over the cute single dad at your work. Jungkook needed you, and you weren’t about to let a silly crush get in the way of making your little Kookie feel better. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
By the time you rolled into Namjoon’s driveway Jungkook was all but knocked out in the back seat. His cheeks were still stained with tears, eyes still slightly puffy as the young boy struggled to keep them open. He had panicked so much earlier… No wonder he was tired. You parked the car, looking back at him for a second with a small frown. The way he freaked out, the things he said… You know he was thinking back to his mother. You didn’t know the details, and you know Jungkook was too young to remember. But the boy was too smart for his own good, surely by now he had put two and two together. It wasn’t hard, seeing all his friends always being dropped off by two parents while he always only had Namjoon. You sighed as you opened your door, walking back to grab him from his seat just as Namjoon opened the front door, running down the steps. You pulled Jungkook’s sleeping body into your arms, signalling for Namjoon to be quiet just as the man was about to speak. But he saw you, softening his steps as he got closer, a sad frown on his face as he got a glimpse of Kook’s cheeks. You gave Namjoon an understanding smile, following him towards the house before you passed the sleeping boy to his dad. Namjoon held Jungkook close, his hands gripping the boy a tad too tightly as he whispered towards you, “will you wait here a second? I’m just gonna take him upstairs” You nodded as you stepped inside the house with him, standing by the entrance as you watched Namjoon quickly make his way to the second floor. You took the time to look around, smiling softly as you saw both their personalities plastered around the home. You could see Namjoon’s style within the earthy tones that filled the home, the whole clearly decorated to perfection, before hurricane Jungkook took over with his action figures and games, laying over every furniture piece in the home. Your eyes shifted towards the stairs as you heard Namjoon walking back down, finally noticing his appearance. The usually put-together, care-free man had certainly had a stressful day. His bleached white hair had been pushed back, the sleeves of his brown shirt rolled up to his elbows, collar opened a button-too-low. You blinked a couple times before looking away, acting as if you were still just looking around as he reached you. “Miss. (L/N) I am so so sorry for this. I had absolutely no way of getting out of my meeting earlier and…” he tried, pushing his hair back once more as you raised your hands to calm him, “no no, don’t worry! Really, these things happen” He looked at you as if he wanted to apologise once more, but caught himself. Honestly, at this point even Namjoon couldn’t keep track of how many times he had done so that night, and in his mind no amount of apologies could make up for what had happened. You swayed slightly as you looked around, the awkwardness finally getting to you and flaring up your nerves. “I should go…” you muttered, trying your best to sound casual, but Namjoon was apparently hellbent on making your heart flutter. “Wait! Uhm… Can I make you some dinner?” he started, your eyes widening at the proposal, “Jungkook might be too tired to eat but I’m sure you’re hungry. Please, it’s the least I can do” For what felt like forever you just stood there speechless. You knew that any second now you would become a blushing mess, maybe you could still get out of it somehow? But as Namjoon saw the gears in your head turning he double down, the sweetest puppy eyes looking down at you as he insisted once more. So that’s where Jungkook gets it from… You giggled at your thought, nodding your head slowly and holding back the other giggle that his bright smile enlisted. Maybe this wasn’t so bad. Namjoon was Jungkook’s dad, a client, you needed to be able to act normal around him. This little crush had gone on for way too long anyways. Namjoon led you towards the large kitchen, motioning for you to sit behind the large granite island as he made his way towards the fridge. You rested your chin on your hand as you sat down, watching him as he moved around, grabbing glasses and plates, only to stop as he looked for what to make. At this point you had known Namjoon for a while, and you had seen Jungkook play pranks on him enough to know when he got nervous. You leaned right to look around him, giggling softly as you noticed him staring at his weirdly stocked fridge blankly. His body picked up your giggle, and he turned around with a sheepish grin, clearly thinking about how he'd explain to you that he was a terrible cook. But he forgot that you were best friends with his kid. “You know, a little bird told me that you guys’ favourite meals come straight out of there, and not the fridge” you joked as you pointed to Namjoon’s phone sitting on the counter. The man turned to look at it, chuckling lightly as he knew there was no hiding things from you. He didn’t keep secrets from Jungkook and apparently Jungkook didn’t keep secrets from you either.  “Yeah… This household runs a little differently… I’m-” but he stopped himself. He had apologised enough tonight. Honestly, why was he even doing it that much? Namjoon couldn’t remember the last time he had been this nervous around a woman, especially after Jungkook was born. But whenever you were in the room he just couldn’t stop himself. It also didn’t help that you were kind, beautiful, Jungkook absolutely loved you, and you were so, absolutely, incredibly, ho- Breathe Namjoon. Without much thought he grabbed a bottle of white wine from the fridge, not noticing the look you gave him as he grabbed two glasses, chuckling to himself. He placed both glasses on the island across from you, only looking up at you as he was opening the bottle, and immediately realising what he was doing. “Fuck, I didn’t even ask. I’m sorry, I… Would you like some wine? Oh no wait you’re driving, I just, I-” You giggled at his reaction, shaking your head slightly, “it’s okay. It’s been a long day, I could have one glass, just one” He sighed in relief as you agreed, pouring both glasses before putting away the bottle and walking around the island towards your side. He passed it towards you before sitting on the stool beside you, a tad too close perhaps. Maybe this was where him and Jungkook had breakfast? For a second you dared imagine how cute the two would look, Jungkook asking for help to get on the stool, Namjoon feeding him as you grabbed both a glass of orange juice from the fridg- Why were you in that fantasy? You brought the glass to your lips to shut up your thoughts, the tang of the white wine making everything a little better. “Thank you Mr. Kim” “Namjoon” Your eyes widened slightly at his word, watching him as he chuckled, “you can call me Namjoon. I mean, we are having a glass of wine in my kitchen… And how long have we even known each other for, 3 years? I think it’s about time Miss. (L/N)” he grinned casually “(Y/N). You can call me (Y/N) then” you smiled, trying to hide the excitement of hearing it from his lips once again. “It has in fact been a long time though, 3 years this year… God I can’t believe Jungkook is 6” you whined, remembering the cute little boy that waddled into your class that first day. 
“You tell me, sometimes I think time is playing a trick on me…” he agreed. Namjoon took a sip of his wine before he turned his body towards you, his face a little more serious, “how was he?” 
You knew what he was asking about, and from the looks of it, he already knew the
answer. But you still wanted to try, “he was fine! A bit confused but you know he’s young and-” “Y/N…” 
You stopped, sighing before you told him the truth, “he thought you had just left him there… I had never seen Jungkook like that, he was terrified. I tried calming him down, it had only been an hour, but he was…” you trailed off, remembering how absolutely heartbroken the boy was. But as you looked at Namjoon, you could see the same exact feeling in him. “Is it because…?
“His mother… Yes” Namjoon sighed You noticed your own question, groaning at yourself for bringing it up, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry” But Namjoon shook his head, giving you a small smile, “it’s okay”. But why? Why was it okay? Namjoon rarely ever talked about Jungkook’s mother, yet somehow he felt inclined to tell you about it. Without thinking about it further he went on, “I haven’t talked about it much with Jungkook, but he knows. He was too young to remember, but he knows…” he sighed, taking another sip of his wine before he went on, “we were both young when she found out, too young to be having a kid. But I was so sure of it, I just wanted to be a dad. We actually tried, and it worked, for a little while. When Jungkook was just a baby he took up enough of our time that we didn’t really notice how badly things were going… But by the time he was two she just couldn’t take it anymore” For a moment, you found it hard not to feel resentment for a woman that would just leave Jungkook and Namjoon like that, but Joon didn’t seem to hold any grudge in his heart. “I was lucky enough to already have my career by then, but she was only just getting started. The pressure on new mothers is so insane… It wasn’t fair for me to make her give that all up for a life she didn’t want” He looked up at you, eyes widening slightly at the look of sadness you had, before he chuckled, shaking his head, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring the mood down. I don’t blame her, or regret anything, it gave me Jungkook and that’s all I care about.” You wanted to say something, to tell him he was doing great and everything would be fine, that you were there for him. But who even were you? The teacher? Was it really your place to say anything. “Why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself? What made you open up the school?” he asked, clearly wanting to change the subject You thought about it for a second, smiling to yourself as you remembered the journey it took to open your small little school, “I had always dreamed of working for myself,  and after my Masters it just seemed like the right choice. I was definitely ready to take the leap and open my own place but god I was so scared” you chuckled, a small blush on your cheeks, “I’ve always loved kids, I mean, I studied for this you know, but owning your own business is a whole other beast… I just knew that I wanted to be able to help kids on my own terms, without all the bureaucracy that came with my old school. They treated the children like clients there, I would never have been able to stay with a kid like Jungkook if a parent was late, and that’s not right…” You looked up at him, smiling softly as you noticed he was giving you his full attention, “It’s crazy to think that i’ve been doing this for almost 5 years now…” “I mean, given that i’ve trusted you with my son for over half of those, i’d say you’re doing a pretty good job” Namjoon offered, his dimples showing as he smiled at you You giggled, nodding, “thank you for that Mr.K- Namjoon… It’s honestly been such a treat to be able to watch Kookie grow.” 
“It makes me happy too. You’re probably one of the most consistent things in his life… I’m just glad he has some other than screw-up ol’ dad to rely on” 
Honestly, how many times had Namjoon had this conversation with himself? Jungkook was lucky to have you, you were probably the closest thing to a mother he had, and a freaking perfect one at that. Namjoon could not recall the amount of times he caught himself thinking about that, only to tell himself to stop being a creep. But it was almost impossible for him not to fall hard. You are practically everything he ever wanted. “He really loves you Namjoon,” you started, smiling at him as your hand mindlessly reached for his, “you should see the way he talks about you… You’re his hero. He’s a very lucky boy to have you as a dad and he knows it. It’s time you figure that out too” you giggled softly, trying to reassure him. Namjoon stared at you for a second, his expression unlike anything you’d seen before, yet you couldn’t make yourself look away. “You really love him, don’t you?” he asked Your eyes widened for a second, a blush making its way onto your face as you finally felt the reality of your words reach you. Was it too much? You didn’t want to seem weird or like you were prying too much. But you couldn’t hide the fact that Jungkook held a special place in your heart, one that not many of your students had touched. There was just something about him that just made you want to be there… “He’s a special boy” “You’re special”
Namjoon looked down at your hand atop of his, his own turning slowly to be able to grip your wrist, pulling you towards him slowly. He looked up, eyes fixed on yours as he searched for any sign of discomfort, but the gaze of pure hope you had simply solidified his resolve. Without much more thought his other hand cupped the side of your face, pulling you in for a slow, deep kiss.
Your eyes fluttered shut, body leaning into his as you whimpered softly against his lips, the feeling of them on your making your mind go blank. You couldn’t stop yourself as you reached for his shirt, pulling him closer as your hands gripped the fabric tightly. And Namjoon was right there with you. He didn’t think twice about hoping off his stool, lips never leaving yours as he pushed your legs apart gently, moving to stand in between them before he deepened the kiss. Surely by now your whole body was on fire, hands gripping at every last inch of his shirt as you tried keeping yourself grounded somehow, trying your best to stay sane and calm, but as you felt Namjoons tongue running across your bottom lip, you lost it. “Namjoon…” you moan quietly Yet all it did was alert the man of exactly what you two were doing. “Fuck… (Y/N) I’m so sorry I, I didn’t mean to go this fast I just -” “No! I…” but how could you tell him you liked it without sounding too desperate? “Please…” you looked up at him, your hand gripping his shirt tighter. Namjoon stared back at you for a second, his eyes a tad wide before it finally hit him, and he wasn’t about to wait another second. He had waited almost 3 years already. His hands cupped your face, pulling you in for a heated kiss, the frustration of having waited this long apparent in how he held you close, lips moving as if in sync with yours. You two were practically drowning in each other,  you two pressing against each other in the most delicious of ways as the world around lay there forgotten. So much so no one heard the small steps walking down the staircase. “Daddy, what are you and Miss (Y/N) doing? The quiet voice made your flinch, both of you tearing away from each other so fast you were sure you could feel some whiplash from it, but it didn’t stop either of you from looking at Jungkook and shouting, “Jungkook!”  
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