#it makes me a Little sad but more in a sopping wet cat way | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hanyjar · 1 year ago

Text

rain sucks. (i'll make you love it.)

isagi yoichi x reader

summary: your story with isagi yoichi, told through five moments, a bus stop, and rain.

notes: [6.25k words.] idk if isagi lovers still exist, but in the wise words of taylor swift: this is me trying ;)

disclaimers: cursing, reader hates the rain and likes to talk, break up with an ex (not isagi) in part one, loneliness in 'one' and four', self doubt in 'five' but isagi is quick to comfort, fluff -> angst -> fluff, rain kisses, romantic gestures, strangers -> friends -> lovers.

edit: isagi likes rain here (as opposed to the info given in the light novel T_T so very sorry ahh)

masterlist.

ONE.

It has been a bad day.

No. That’s putting it too lightly. Today, June 20th, is the very epitome of shit.

The heated argument you had with your now ex-partner continues to linger in your mind. “I think we’ve been wasting our time” plays on loop like a broken record, and you wonder if you look as lifeless as you feel.

It’s quite a silly thing: how a single person can make you feel as if the whole world is ending. It’s even sillier how you devoted all this effort into a relationship that is nothing but a waste of time to them.

Waste of time.

Even after they crushed your already tattered heart and left it for dead, you can’t help but think how much easier it would be if you feel that way about them too.

Love is a stupid, stupid thing.

You appreciate mother nature for taking pity on you, at least. Rain in the midst of summer has never been your favourite thing - the air always being a little too hard to breathe and the dreary sky a tell-tale sign that the bus is going to be late that day. But today, you feel okay towards rain. The tears from the heavens above do well to cover up your own; the droplets become friends, accompanying you in your forlorn state. For once, you don’t complain about the broken roof at the bus stop letting rain in. For once, you find comfort in the very thing you hate.

And you cry a little bit inside, knowing that your ex has managed to break that part of you as well.

“...Bad day?” A voice breaks you free from your stupor.

You turn to your left, and you feel your breath being taken away.

There, a stranger stands. From first glance, the boy is nothing but ordinary. His navy - almost black - hair did little to set him apart from the rest of the crowd, and he dons the same Ichinan uniform that you (and the multitude of students in the area) wear. But there is something within his cerulean eyes. A fervour of sorts, one that is begging to be unleashed for the whole world to see. To the untrained eye, he is the very essence of average; to a trained eye, the stranger is utterly beautiful.

…Or, that’s what you would say, if he didn’t look like a wet cat. Not the ones featured in those animal shampoo commercials, but one of the sad, pathetically cute, on the verge of tears, literally sopping wet ones. Your breath is taken away, simply because the boy is a mess.

You can’t help but think that this stranger has had a shit day, too.

“Like you have no idea.” You say, voice drenched in exasperation. “Though… You look like you’ve been through a nightmare yourself.”

“A nightmare is an understatement,” he cradles his left temple with his palm. You laugh at his antics.

“Try me, then. Nothing can be worse than getting dumped, right?”

The smile on his face immediately falls, and you can’t help but feel a little bad for dropping a bomb like that to a stranger. “My god.” He exhales, “I am so sorry.” His crestfallen expression makes you feel as if he truly means those words.

“Don’t be. You didn’t know.” Your eyes look down to the soiled concrete. “I’ll be fine, time will pass, after all.” (You say that more to yourself than him, if anything.)

The bus stop is silent for a while, and you feel as if you’ve ruined everything - for the second time today. It’s almost as if the bus stop boy knows, and is eager to change that.

“Well. My name is Isagi Yoichi,” he begins. “And my soccer coach told me that I am mediocre at best; that I don’t have what it takes to do what I love professionally.”

You look into his eyes once more, and the fervour that was once there is now shrouded in a sense of agony you know all too well. The same agony that is, without a doubt, present in your eyes too. Words fail you. And for the years you have shrugged as the therapist friend, you find yourself at a genuine loss.

“...I guess we’re in the same boat then.” You muster out, lamely. “But are you seriously going to let some old geezer tell you what to do with your life? I mean, he’s literally the coach of a no-name highschool team.” Your hands make their way onto Isagi’s, clasping his in-between yours. “Your coach has no right to tell you that when he’s failed at that dream already. Don’t let your coach dictate your worth; don’t let him stop you from shining. Ever.”

He stares at your hands for a second, eyes widened and mouth agape. You are quick to detach yourself from him. “Forgive me,” a sheepish smile grows on your face.” “I speak too much sometimes.”

“No need,” Isagi’s hand moves to rest on the nape of his neck. “Thank you. I needed to hear that today, I think.”

Isagi smiles boyishly. It suits him.

“It’s no problem.” You fiddle with the straps of your backpack, suddenly feeling bashful at his gratitude. “Adults like that? They think they rule the world, but in reality—”

The squeaking of tires interrupts you, and the bus arrives exactly eleven minutes late.

“That’s my cue,” you say, and for a second, you could swear that Isagi seems disappointed. You make your way towards the bus, head turning towards his way before you get on board. “Thanks for the chat, stranger. I’ll see you around.”

You make your way through the barren bus, the driver eyeing you up-and-down for your soaked figure. And just like that, uncertainty and dejection return in waves. Talking to Isagi was a good distraction and all, but you can’t forget that your partner of two years just fucking broke up with you. You are alone now.

You want nothing more than to sleep it all off. This feeling of loneliness is a type that you would not wish on anyone - even your worst enemy. (Well, maybe someone. Your ex, being the said someone. But you like to think that is just the anger talking.)

“Hey!” Isagi’s voice echoes out. Like a ray of sunlight breaking through the grey skies of your mind, it is his turn to make your eyes widen; his voice bypassing the sheet of glass separating you two and reaching the storm that surrounds your heart. “Don’t let that past relationship stop you from shining too, okay?”

…Perhaps, you aren’t so alone after all.

The bus sets off, and Isagi sees you smile at him through the rain-stricken window. The boy hopes that his sentiments have reached you; he hopes that you’ll follow the same advice that you’ve given him.

But above all else, he hopes that he will see you again.

TWO.

“I hate this bus stop and its stupid roof.”

Isagi stops typing away on his phone. “You say that like, all the time nowadays.”

You’ve definitely sucked the life out of that phrase recently, but you take it as a good sign. An indication that you’ve healed.

The relationship that you once held dear is nothing but a mere memory of the past. The countless sleepless nights and time spent wallowing in your own self-doubt have all but ceased to exist. You realised that it simply was not worth your while to cry about a lost love, and to instead surround yourself with the love that remains from those around you. If anything, you are grateful for it: you have grown from that experience tremendously. By no means would you ever consider it to be a waste of time. And in the process?

You garnered a friend. A confidant. That break up led to the beginning of something magical. It led to a friendship with Isagi Yoichi, or, who you like to call, your bus-stop boy.

After the fateful day, you started to notice his presence around more. At first it was in the halls of Ichinan, a mere wave shared between you two here and there. Then the new school year began, and Isagi was shuffled into your homeroom. You began seeing him from once in a while, to literally everyday.

His presence began to bleed more and more into yours, and your lives ended up intertwining together until there was nothing you could do to untangle them. Eventually? Isagi was your deskmate. He was cooking lunch for you, you two eating his homemade lunches together in comfortable silence. You began waiting for his soccer practice to finish, and Isagi would wait by your side at the station until the bus came. A rhythm that you two fell into, almost as easy as breathing.

In your chapter of new beginnings, there is no Isagi Yoichi without you, and there is no you without Isagi Yoichi. An inseparable duo, you two are dubbed as.

You like to think you know a lot about him now. Maybe even go as far as to say you know everything about him, as he knows everything about you.

“It lets the rain in, Isagi.” You whine. “And besides, why is it even raining in Spring? Tsuyu* season isn’t for like, another month or two. There’s no way anyone could like this weather. No way.”

“I don’t know… I don’t mind it every now and then,” he says. “I like rain. I think it’s nice.”

Pause.

Well, maybe you don’t know everything about him.

“What? Since when?” You put your hand on your heart, gasping in mock-offence. “I didn’t know that I’m friends with a traitor.”

He rolls his eyes at you. The audacity. “A traitor, really? Just because I like a bit of rain here and there?”

“It goes deeper than that, Isagi!” You say. (It really doesn’t. You just want an excuse to complain a little, and a sassy Isagi Yoichi is always a fun sight.) “What’s there to like anyways? I don’t get it.”

“I can try to explain it for you, if you’d like.”

“Please do.”

“Have you ever seen what it looks like after it has rained?” He asks. You shake your head in response. You’ve never been the type to stick around long enough to see the sky stop crying. “You should. It’s wonderful, y’know: the glow it leaves afterwards. The streets look like they’ve been reborn - you can literally see the dirt on the concrete being washed away and given another life. If you’re lucky? A rainbow might come and say hi.” Isagi smiles at the little comment he makes.” That sight alone is worth getting your books wet and missing the bus every now and then. And it is just one of many reasons I have, honestly.”

You find yourself smiling at his enthusiasm. It’s cute, when he’s like this. You’re glad that he’s comfortable enough around you to show this side of himself. “I like it when you infodump, Isagi.”

“Did my infodump manage to change your mind?” A tinge of hope emerges in his voice and eyes. You shake your head. The hope is gone just as fast as it came. “Well, maybe the main reason will.”

He gives you a mysterious smile, and proceeds to say nothing.

“Aren’t you going to finish that sentence?”

“Nope, I don’t think I will.” Isagi says. You shoot him an incredulous look. “I’ll tell you… If you don’t fail your social studies paper.”

“Wha— Hey! Now that’s just being mean!”

He laughs. “So then… Why do you hate rain so much, anyways?”

“Changing the subject, really?” You say.

He merely shrugs in response, giving you a teasing grin. “Just roll with it. I promise I’ll tell you,” he pauses. “One day.”

You kick his foot in response, making an impromptu game of footsies ensue.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Isagi lifts his hands up to the side of his head, surrendering in a fit of boyish laughter. “No but really, I’m curious. Why do you hate it so much?”

“I don’t really know. It’s just—“ You stick your leg out precariously, as if the rain is going to melt your foot. “I hate the rain. I always have, and probably always will.”

A lull of silence passes by - not dissimilar to the one that happened on your first meeting with him. It’s different this time, though, as it is not a silence that is born out of two strangers not quite knowing what to say. It went deeper than that, more intimate, more comforting. Isagi puts a hand on your shoulder, turning you around to face him. “Well,” he begins. “One day, I hope I can show you how beautiful rain can be.”

Isagi smiles - a pretty, pretty thing.

There, amongst the dreary skies and wet cherry blossom leaves, is sunlight. Sunlight, in the form of him. Him, the Ichinan forward. Isagi, a boy who has nestled his way into your life almost too easily.

Yoichi, who leaves your heart hammering a bit too fast for comfort.

“Come on, you’re going to miss your bus.” Isagi’s hand finds its way to yours, locking into place like they were made for eachother. “It’s darker than usual. I’ll walk you home today, okay?”

He drags you towards your usual window seat, tapping the two matching keycards you share while entering. Isagi whispers a quick goodnight as he sits on the seat next to yours.

A smile makes its way towards your lips. Warmth filling up your entire body, entire soul.

You adore his sleeping face; you adore him.

Wait. Adore? Uh oh, you think. I might be falling in love.

*Tsuyu: The rainy period in Japan, generally spanning from May to July. The direct translation is ‘plum rain’, because it coincides with the season that plums ripen in Japan.

THREE.

Isagi is the first one to break the silence.

It’s weird, how he called you out to the bus stop out of the blue. Meeting together here in the past was always out of necessity: one born from a desire to go home and to have a chat with your best friend to end the day on a high note. Never, is the meeting at your sanctuary intentional, like it is now.

You couldn’t help but rush to get here. Not when he texted you like that: frantic and brimming with urgency.

“Sorry for making you come all this way, especially at this time of the night.” He says, carefully. As if he is tiptoeing around eggshells. Like you are strangers again. Isagi is never this careful around you, and hasn’t been for a while now. The change of pace perpetuates fear into the depths of your soul like no other.

“It’s fine.” You tentatively look up from your lap, preferring to look at the night sky instead of his face. I’d do anything for you, when you text me like that. “It’s just… Your message; the tone you’re speaking to me in right now. You’re seriously worrying me, Isagi.”

Isagi lets out a sigh, one quivering with nerves and worry. He places a hand onto your clenched ones, rubbing comforting circles onto the dorsal side. That’s weird. You didn’t even realise you were shaking. “You know that letter from the Japan Football Association I got a few days ago? The one we were so excited about?”

“The one I forced you to accept, right?”

“That’s the one.” He smiles fondly at the memory. The one of the two of you in his room, him being at an absolute mental blank, while you - the ever-so lovely you - was crying tears of joy - a stark contrast to the tears you shed earlier that day, watching him lose the qualifiers. You egged him to accept it, because ‘nothing would make you happier than to see him pursue his dreams’, you said. Words that sent an elation of joy to flood across his body, for he didn’t think that he could love you more. “…Well, I went to that address they gave us today. And that letter didn’t exactly tell the whole story. Of what it is, what their goal is.” Isagi continues; you feel a lump beginning to form at the back of your throat. “Yes, it’s a player improvement project. But I have to stay at this camp, I think. I don’t know how long I’ll be staying there, and I can’t contact anyone that’s not a part of it either. All I know is that it starts tomorrow. Officially.”

“What…” You muster out, at a complete loss for words.

“It’s called Blue Lock, and I’m going for it.” He places his unoccupied hand onto his chest, eyes igniting with a kindred spirit like no other. “I think this is my best shot at becoming the best. To play beyond a national level, and make you proud. But…” He pauses, pinching your chin with his index finger and thumb, forcing you to look him in the eyes for the first time in this conversation. “I won't go if you don’t want me to. I won’t, and will never do anything that you don’t like. So just say the word, and I’ll stay. Right here, right by your side.”

It hurts so damn bad. All of this, how it is so out of the blue, how there’s a possibility you may never see the boy, who has been such a pivotal aspect of your life for the last year or so, ever again. You want to be supportive - heck, you’d go to war just to see Isagi shine. But it hurts. You love him, for goodness sake. Every bone in your body wants him to stay, to not break the sacred normalcy that you have shared with the man that makes you smile brighter than anyone else can.

But the skies are clear. And the right answer, the solution to all of this, is even clearer.

“You’d have to be stupid to not go.” You say, voice unwavering with confidence. However, your eyes are anything but. “You have to go, Isagi. I don’t want to destroy your dreams like that and ruin the potential you have. I could never live with myself if I made you stay.”

Isagi kisses you on the forehead, once. “Thank you,” Twice. “Thank you, so much.” He leans his forehead against yours, and his teary ones meet your equally watery ones. “I’m going to miss you more than anything. I promise, I’m going to become number one. Just for you.”

“You better.” You chuckle, choking on a sob. “Shine brighter than anyone else, Isagi. I’ll be watching you every step of the way.”

He nods in response, and you stay like that for a while. For minutes, hours, even. Foreheads kissing each other, and staring into his cerulean eyes like it’s the last time you’ll ever see them.

“I never told you the reason, didn’t I?” Isagi breathes out.

“What?”

“The reason why I love rain as much as I do.” He says. You let out a careful no, wondering if he did tell you, and you just weren’t listening.

“It’s because,” Isagi begins, reaching for your right hand and opening it, palm facing up. “It was raining when I met you.” You feel him reach for his back pocket, and Isagi pulls out a pristine white envelope, placing it into your hand. It is sealed with red wax and decorated with golden swirls. Beautiful. Like it came right out of a fairytale. “…And you are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

Your body quivers, and you feel the tears threatening to return again. “You’re so corny,” you say, half-flustered and half-shy. “And I still hate the rain.” You reach a hand up to his cheek, looking at his lips in a way that just friends don’t. “But Isagi, you. You are the best thing that’s happened to me too.”

He looks at your lips too, and you anticipate for something more - to go beyond what you two have built so beautifully. To go beyond friends, and transform into lovers.

Isagi pulls you in for a tight hug instead. You reciprocate. Those thoughts disappear as fast as they came.

“So..” You clench the letter tight within your hands, and you cringe at the feeling of droplets meeting your shoulder. (Truth is, you didn’t know if you were cringing at the fact you wished he had kissed you, or if it is the impending sky-fall. You choose to believe the latter.) “Do I open it now?”

He pulls away from the hug first, and smiles, embarrassment painting his features. “I’d prefer it if you read it later.”

The droplets fasten, quicker and quicker, and Isagi pulls you closer to him, putting you out of the rain’s way. “Oh come on! It has to rain now, out of all times?” You heave a great sigh, burying your head into the nape of his neck.

“It gives us an excuse to stay here for a little while longer, doesn’t it?” He gives you puppy dog eyes.

“As much as I’d love to stay with you all night, it’s getting late,” you say, laughing inwardly. “I don’t want to worry your parents. Actually— have you even told your parents about Blue Lock yet?”

He shakes his head. “No, I wanted you to be the first one to know.”

How sweet. “Then you should hurry home,” you whisper. “I shouldn’t hold you up.”

“You sure?” Isagi holds your hands tighter than before. I don’t want to leave you yet, his eyes scream.

“I’m sure.” You squeeze his hands in response. I don’t want to let you go either, your eyes say.

Isagi leans in once more, bumping your noses together, eyes meeting in a silent agreement. But we have to. And we’ll be okay.

“Promise that you won’t forget me?”

“I could never.”

And so he goes. But you stay. You remain seated, sheltered beneath the shoddy bus-stop. A sense of déjà vu passes, it’s just like all those times before. But it’s almost painful this time. Your bus-stop boy is walking away from you, instead of seeking shelter alongside you. You laugh at yourself, bitterly. You don’t know if you’ll ever move on from him, or if you even want to. Not when your forever-person has pried his way into your heart like this, not when Isagi feels like home.

You pry the wax seal off the letter, unfolding the paper that is encased inside in a hurry, a tinge of excitement coursing through your veins.

‘I still haven’t shown you the beauty of rain. Will you wait for me? Love, Isagi.’

A laugh escapes your lips. Of course you would. You’d wait forever, and forevermore for him. He didn't even have to ask. It’s something that you would’ve done as one would breathe air. And in a way, you realise that there’s a certain calamity to your circumstance.

You love him so much that you’d willingly let Isagi tear down everything you’ve ever known. Whether it may be something silly like your animosity towards rain, or the idea of letting someone love you again. You’d let him do it all.

And that is terrifying. But exquisitely so.

A barrage of steps sounds itself out in the quiet of the night, a figure making its way to you - closer, closer, and closer. Oh god, someones not trying to kill me, are they?

Then you see a familiar sight. A boy with his hair in disarray, black outerwear soaking wet, looking just like the wet cat from your first meeting but this time more mature and more determined, and suddenly he’s pulling you into the rain with him, grasping onto your shoulders, locking his eyes onto yours and oh. He’s kissing you on the lips now.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I couldn’t leave without kissing you first. I think I’d go crazy if I didn't.”

“I think I’d go crazy too,” you chuckle, resting your head against his chest. “And yeah. Of course I’ll wait for you, dummy.”

“You opened it already?”

“I can’t wait to see how you’ll make me love rain.”

…You should’ve known he would’ve given you that kiss first.

Isagi is not the type to leave you disappointed for too long, after all.

FOUR.

The days seem to blur together in Isagi’s absence.

The last year or so was, for a lack of a better word, lonely. Filled with rumours that you drove your best friend mad and he ran away, or that you murdered Isagi and the police have yet to discover his body, you felt as if the only people in your life for the last few months were your family and Isagi’s parents.

The sudden isolation is getting to you. And you know it. It shows in the dreariness of your demeanour; bears its teeth in the darkening eye bags that have crept their way onto your face. You’re not certain that he will be able to recall your face anymore. Heck, you can’t recognise yourself anymore either. Gosh, who would’ve thought that being Isagi-less for a little while would do this to you?

But today brings something new to the table: hope. Confirmation that all of this waiting has been worth it after all. You’ll get to see him in an hour or two come morning, and it will be enough.

Or, at least, that's the timeframe you predicted last night.

“There have been reports of mass delays in the Saitama Public Transport Network due to heavy storms and rainfall. Civilians can expect their regularly scheduled buses and trains to be postponed for up to two hours or more—“

You throw a pancake at your TV and scream.

The what-would-be one hour trip to Tokyo is now possibly three, and since your butter fingers slipped and set the wrong alarm last night, you are already running late.

You just hope that Isagi’s parents are still waiting for you outside.

Ding!

You reach into your pocket for your phone, and a message from Isagi’s mother illuminates the screen.

‘Sorry, Honey. We left already. Issei is worried that the traffic is going to hold us up from getting to Tokyo in time.’

Great. Just great.

It seems as if the universe is practically begging for you to not see Isagi today. But after not seeing him for months - not even a hi, hello, or a single sign that your Isagi is safe and sound - you only have one thing on your mind.

Screw the universe. I need to see him. Screw it all.

You chuck on a pair of navy converses, making your way towards the bus stop that started it all. The streets are busier nowadays. With various roadworks and several shops getting renovations left and right. However, the one location that you know like the back of your hand remains abandoned, frozen in time, almost. Still on its last leg, with a leaky roof and ivy adorning the wooden frame.

The seats have grown moss on them from the increase in rainfall nowadays. And so you choose to stand instead - quietly observing the pouring downfall, thoughts running amok.

It’s almost scary, how time has simultaneously been impetuous and sluggish lately. And you know it ties back to Isagi. It always does. You haven’t seen the boy in ages, actually. And that, in itself, is an understatement. It isn’t in the 'two weeks off school’, or the ‘we haven’t talked since summer break’ way, but in an ‘I’m honestly forgetting your face since it is now a new spring without you’ way.

…You don’t think you’ll have the heart to ever tell him that.

There is one thing that scares you more, though. And that's in the way that you’re forgetting how Isagi looks when he wears his smile. Does his lips curve upwards or downwards? Do his eyes turn into half-moons when he’s happy or does he bear his cerulean eyes for everyone to see? All of these are questions that invade your mind during sleepless midnights. Questions, that you never thought you would ask at all.

You can only hope that his smile is better than you can imagine. That he glows radiantly like he does in the fragments that appear in your memory every once in a while. Will happiness look good on him? Will it feel like a shame that you’ve been missing out on it all this time?

Maybe that’s the real reason why you’re worried that Isagi won't remember you: because you can hardly recall his face yourself. As in, truly, know what he looks like. You know Isagi from the blurry photos on your phone taken at 3AM sleepovers, and the display frames lined around his family’s home. The big picture itself is easy to see. The little things - the quirks of his that made you fall - have been much harder to recall.

But you do remember a few things. Arguably, the most important ones.

Your love for him; Isagi’s promise. The way he kissed you like he needed you to live; the way you cried for him amongst the skyfall.

The way Isagi taught you that it’s okay to love.

And it’s okay to be loved back.

For now, that is enough.

Droplets continue to batter against your woollen jumper, the rain drenching your entire being. It soaks your hair, makes the knuckles on your clenched fists a light violet, disguises the tears falling down from your face. The rain is ever so violent, leaving a mess of you in its wake. For the second time in your life, you let the rain do as it pleases. You let it destroy the outfit you meticulously planned, wreak havoc on the converses Isagi gave to you on your birthday. All in hopes that it will eventually cleanse your soul. Cleanse the pain, the happiness. Wipe the slate clean, as the rain does with the pavement, until you are reborn from the ashes and live a life where you aren’t so, irrecoverably in love with your best friend.

But you know, deep down, it will never save you from your calamitous love. That even if you are reborn, one word will remain in your heart. One, sacred word that you keep like an oath.

Promise.

You wonder if Isagi remembers his promise in the same way that you do.

It’s the only reason why you are going to the game today, after all.

Your hands loosen from the fist you’ve been keeping this whole time, deep crescent moons adorning the insides of your palm. A slip of paper flurries out from your hand - swishing with the wind in a way that a feather would. It dances around, until it lands in the puddle that has formed beneath your feet.

Shit. The ticket.

You bend down and clutch a now-soaked sheet of paper in your palm, tiny inscriptions that adorned the sheet now bleeding together. The only thing now visibly readable being: ‘JAPAN’S U20 VS BLUE LOCK’.

Rain really, really sucks.

(You’ve never hated it more.)

The bus finally arrives amidst the downpour.

(Yet, for some reason, a small part of you is excited to see the rainbow that comes after the storm.)

FIVE.

Isagi has always loved the rain.

Ever since he was a young boy, the rain has always had a certain allure that captivated him more than most. In his eyes, puddles held miniature worlds within them, with pebbles acting as land formations and stray twigs imitating people. Enchanting. Raindrops race each other down window panes, with him as an eager viewer. Simply spellbinding. However, nothing has ever beat the feeling of playing soccer amongst the rainfall. The feeling of watching the opponents around you struggle to run in the mud, as you calculate the best direction to head in; pieces of grass decorating your cleats in the aftermath like a badge of honour. Getting sick afterwards is a simple price to pay if it means transforming the pitch into a battlefield. Rain makes the game something to remember.

It’s the duality of rain that makes Isagi treasure the phenomenon dearly; rain can be simultaneously beautiful and destructive at the same time. Which, shockingly to him, is the very same fact that makes you despise it so much.

Your face appears within his mind. Isagi smiles.

Ah yes, you.

The person who despises rain more than anything else in the world. Who groans at the slightest hint of darkening clouds, and acts as if drizzle is akin to acid rain that will obliterate everyone in an instant.

Nowadays, media outlets constantly poke and prod into your relationship with one another as Isagi’s reputation grows - at a speed only fathomable in his wildest dreams - wondering how he can love you so much when the two of you are so different in every sense.

“…They just don’t understand,” he said to you on a day where it was all too much. “They’ll never understand how you’ve changed my life, is all.”

“Me? The person who nearly forgot you? Who doubted you and thought that you would’ve forgotten about them too?” You angrily clenched your head. “I don’t see how you’ve forgiven me so easily for that.”

“I told you already,” he began. “When I was gone I had the same thoughts as you. I forgot you for a bit, too. I doubted you, as well. I could never hold that against you, because I did the same, and– and… I regret it everyday; I know you regret it too.” Isagi inhaled sharply. “But at the end of the day, we both remembered the promise. And that’s enough.”

“…Right. I’m sorry, Yoichi.” Your eyes locked with his through the gaps between your fingers. “I love you so much, y’know that?”

“I know.” He grabbed your left hand, giving it a swift kiss. “I love you more, infinitely.”

Isagi cherishes you like he is a marauder and you are the finest jewel; he looks at you like you’re the only person who ever matters. And that’s true. Because to him, you are. With the countless sacrifices you’ve made for him; sticking by his side every step of the way; waiting and waiting for years; being the brunt of scrutiny from the media - heck - even your peers in high-school prior to his Blue Lock debut, Isagi is unsure if he will ever be able to repay you for all that you’ve done.

…But he does have an idea on where to begin.

Isagi averts his attention to the sights outside the bus window. He wonders why the rain is extra pretty today. The beauty of the raindrops seem otherworldly currently - a cascade of water flowing down overflowing gutters, iridescent hues lining the streets that he grew up on, children jumping into puddles with no care in the world. The rainy downpour from the heavens above seems unfaltering - even against the brilliance of Saitama’s lights. And amidst the hustle and bustle - adults finding their way into comforting warmth - there is you. Waiting in the rain for him underneath the bus stop, face twisted in discomfort, twirling the umbrella in your hand round and round.

It is no coincidence that the rain is so charming today.

No.

It’s prettier, because of you.

Always, you.

His sweetheart of many years.

“Hey, stranger.” You greet him as Isagi steps outside of the vehicle he practically grew up on, ushering him underneath the umbrella you brought with you.

You, who he loves more and more everyday.

“Hey yourself.” His eyes twinkle with mirth as he takes the umbrella from your hands. “It’s been a long time since we were both here, hasn’t it?”

“It has,” Your face lightens up with the smile that he loves so much. “To think the last time we were here together was when…”

He looks into your eyes, face erupting with a mix of his boyish smile and laughter. “...When I kissed you. Yeah. I don’t think I could ever forget that night.”

The look on your face tells Isagi that neither could you.

“Even though we’ve had countless other kisses since then, that one is still my favourite, y’know?” Your hands move up to cup his face within your palms. “Yoichi, you don’t do romantic things like that anymore.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Positive.” You stick your tongue out at him.

Isagi lets go of the source of shelter you are sharing, and lets it drift away with the wind. “Hey! We’re gonna get soaked!” You turn your back towards him, hands desperately trying to catch the stray umbrella that seems to be more than happy to escape. “C’mon Yoichi! What was that for?”

“Turn around for me.”

“What?”

“Just do it.” He says, a smile evident in his words.

Isagi sees you gasp, the sight of him knocking the wind from your chest.

There he is, kneeling with his right knee down to the floor - pants getting soaked from the wet concrete below. And in his outstretched hands, lays a small, black velvet box, a diamond ring embedded within its centre.

“Will you marry me?” Isagi asks, starry-eyed. Voice soft and vulnerable.

One day came, and now you know Isagi is right.

Rain can be beautiful.

EXTRA.

“Hey, Isagi. What’s the date today?”

“June 20th. Why?”

“No reason,” a small grin makes its way to your face. “Just curious.”

#blue lock x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi x reader #yoichi x reader #isagi yoichi #blue lock #yoichi isagi x reader #blue lock isagi #bllk x reader #bllk imagines #isagi yoichi bllk #bllk #blue lock imagines #blue lock fanfic #isagi yoichi x you #isagi yoichi x y/n

373 notes · View notes

midnightbrightside · 6 months ago

Note

I’m desperate to your immaculate takes on Krisnix from that one ask—what do you think about 2 and 39 (bonus if the little animals get thrust upon them…it’s Trucy who brings home a box of kittens or something)

ayyy thank you im glad you like my krisnix thoughts!

2- What would they do if the other woke up in a manic state after a nightmare?

when phoenix has nightmares kristoph holds him as he sobs, gently shushing him and saying it was just a dream. phoenix grips kristoph's arms tight to ground himself and it sometimes leaves bruises. kristoph always points them out in a "look what i put up with for you" kind of way that fills phoenix with shame. "really, phoenix, what would you do without me?"

when kristoph has a nightmare he needs to be completely alone but also held as tightly as possible, he also stops speaking. phoenix holds his hands but kristoph snatches them away like the touch burns him and he looks up with wide, scared eyes. so phoenix keeps his distance and encourages kristoph to breathe deep until he stops shaking. then he asks kristoph if he wants to talk about it, kristoph shakes his head. phoenix then asks if he wants a hug, kristoph croaks out very quietly "im not... a child" and phoenix nods "you're not" and holds out his arms. kristoph collapses into them.

39- Who would rescue an injured animal and nurse it back to health? What would the other think?

i got too excited abt this one. gonna put everyone one my "kristoph loves animals" agenda.

trucy comes back home absolutely drenched by the rain holding a box of 6 sopping wet abandoned kittens. she begs phoenix to let her keep them and it absolutely breaks phoenix heart to say "we dont have the space or the money for everything they need. it's late so we can keep them for tonight but we'll have to take them to a shelter tomorrow, im sorry, sweetheart." trucy is NOT happy about it. in true preteen fashion she takes them to her room and starts planning all the ways she, a 12 year old, could raise 6 kittens. phoenix sighs and starts searching what he should feed them, just for tonight.

kristoph arrives later on to pick phoenix up for a date, sees the little furballs meowing around the apartment, and immediately starts fussing.

"these poor babies! where did you find them, and why are they so filthy?"

phoenix explains whats going on and adds "we tried to give them a bath but..." he holds up his arms to show the scratches.

kristoph scoffs, "really, phoenix, you dont have nearly the means nor the knowledge to take care of one animal let alone six." he looks down to where trucy is sitting, playing with the kittens with a makeshift toy made of scrap cloth, and frowns.

"well, first of all, kris: ouch. i was actually thinking we could maybe keep one-"

trucy interrupts from the floor "THREE at LEAST!"

"- and secondly, as i said, we are going to take them to a shelter first thing tomorrow" he looks so apologetic, so sad.

"Absolutely not" Kristoph snaps, "the local shelters are overrun as it is, to say nothing of how they are managed. I wouldnt trust them with these poor creatures either." he looks like hes thinking about something, "Trucy, dear, have you noticed if these kittens are injured or perhaps sick?"

trucy perks up and lists how each cat is faring, which ones are walking funny and points out how one of them has a weird spot near it's eye. as she's rattling off each one's ailments, phoenix notes that she's already named them and his heart melts a little more.

kristoph tuts, "we'll have to take them to the vet then, we can get them microchipped while we're there. vongoles' carrier should be big enough for the journey, oh, she would make an excellent mother..." he almost sounds like he's thinking out loud.

"so we're keeping them???" Trucy beams.

kristoph explains that they're not old enough to be separated from their siblings yet and that she and Phoenix dont have the space to care for all of them, but he is more than happy to take them until they are ready to go to a good home. he shoots a sharp glare at phoenix as he says "typically, cats adjust to a new home much better when adopted in pairs", phoenix gets the memo.

the next day they take the kittens to the vet and kristoph buys all the supplies he could need. over the next few weeks he nurses them back to health and trucy drops by almost every day after school to see how they're doing and play with them. phoenix knew that kristoph liked animals, but it's something else to see this 6'1 icicle of a man dote on these tiny creatures, he even calls them by the names trucy gave them. in moments like these he doesnt seem dangerous at all.

and vongole LOVES them, she's so excited when she first sees them she barely knows what to do with herself. kristoph was right, she makes a great mother. phoenix finds everyone's energy infectious, he buys food, 2 cat beds, some toys, other supplies, and when the time comes he asks kristoph about the kittens.

"sorry, Phoenix, i already found good homes for them" kristoph smiles apologetically and phoenix's heart drops, "i didnt even know you wanted one, i know trucy did, but you didnt seem too enthused. perhaps it's for the best, you dont have the means to take care of a pet." oh.

trucy is miserable. phoenix feels like hes dissapointed her. kristoph is smug as all hell.

#just in case anyone forgot the type of guy phoenix is dealing with here....#ill reblog with an alt ending tho #krisnix #kristoph gavin #phoenix wright #ace attorney #ace attorney headcanon #ask #anon #mine #my fic

50 notes · View notes

prismatica-the-strange · 1 year ago

Text

I keep looking at Hector, Blaine, and Aleksander and I just wanna start crying.

Nonsensical uwu F/O gush under the cut

They're so pretty and cute and my heart can't take it! They're all so soft but also like if they met up they would kill each other cause they're so fucking possessive and would refuse to share me.

Please never make me choose between them because I would actually cry. Like how... Where would I ever even start?

Hector is my soft boy! Like I know he's more than that but whenever I see him my brain just screams "SOFT"! I wanna snuggle that man to my chest and kiss him into a daze.

I wanna hit Blaine... affectionately. He deserves it, I promise. And then I wanna shove my tongue down his throat and... other things. I also wanna call him stupid and make sure he knows how much I love him.

And Aleksander... Sweet, sad, sopping wet Aleksander.

I want him to hold me so tight and I wanna make him laugh and smile. I also just want him to be my impulse control, if only for a little bit. Like I'm about to do something stupid and he literally has to hold me back... I feel like I need that sometimes

I also want to physically fight everyone from Delos, Blaine's dad, and everyone trying to hurt My Darkling. I wanna throw hands and make it hurt.

I wanna protect them like they are the wet cats I perceive them to be.

I mean, just look at them! They are sopping wet cats, the poorest of little meow meows

Fuck, I see Aleksander like that and all I want to do is smother him.

I am so unwell about them in such specific ways.

Hector is Devotion and Heartbreak. Aleksander is Protection and Eternity. And Blaine is Obsession and Deceit.

Each relationship relies on codependency and I can't say that any of them are healthy, especially with Blaine, that shit would be so toxic irl.

Hector and Aleksander I could Help, but Blaine I would actively make worse, and I think that's beautiful.

Anyway, all I'm saying is I need them. They are my gorgeous sweethearts that I adore more than anything

#I am fully aware they're more than this. I'm just letting out my more uwu emotions #self ship gush #Bite me #absolute corruption #I'll forgive your sins

3 notes · View notes

v-sansings · 10 months ago

Text

The way I write ENA is kind of specific for my personal view of her, but I guess I could share my points to remember. What does that entell?

Happy side: **Big** words, properly grammared exclamation phrases, and a slight stutter(cause I think it’s funny). She’s very off in her own world and in a state of a calm placid happiness so keep her mood light and airy when writing for this side.

Sad side: UWU talk for contrast, quite a bit of tYpINg LiKE tHiS, abbreviation on occasion like h8, cr5, d3e; make her as much of a sopping wet cat as you can. She’s mopey, big eyed, and needs a hug. Make her sound like she needs a hug.

Drunk and Demon: sluuuuurrrreeeeddd speech, talk relatively normally in terms of phonics, cuss more often so get fuckin’ creative, and add the added feature of her wobbling around to emphasize the dialogue. She’s inebriated in some way: make that known with the dialogue!

Diablada and Unnamed: Chaotic and psychotic, dO tHiS NUmbER a LOT! Any unstable character needs shit like this to keep them chaotic and grounded in canon to me. And if you can intensify the font, **DO IT!!!** It helps with maintaining the insanity in their dialogue.

And for BBQ ENA, I have an *extremely* specific way I write her: is it guaranteed to be canon accurate for when the game comes out? Hell naw! But I’ll show you my tips anyway.

Salesperson: Sophisticated but not phonetically inclined. And a silver tongue that when used correctly, can con anyone. The sale and the customer comes first, her emotions come later. Put emphasis in passive aggressiveness if she’s teetering on the edge: gritted teeth, a smile that stretches a little too wide, shaking hands, and a wild look in her eyes. She’s almost always on edge from how she handles people daily, so express the façade and how easily it can crack in the dialogue.

Meanie: This is when she finally flips her lid so her dialogue has to be **EXPLOSIVE** to match. ALL CAPS SHOUTING, scarily quiet threats under her breath, grabbing the first thing in reach and trying to hit someone with/throw it at them, and lots of cussing. She hates her job and her life; express that through these loud outbursts.

I hope this can help people :D

HEY

If you’re having a hard time trying to get ENA’s weird style of talking correct when writing,just keep in mind the stereotypical way British people speak.The technically just speaks like that to me but you can write her however you want I don’t care.

#ena joel g #ena #joel g ena #dream bbq #lemonberry lady #white chocolate cherry #ena dream bbq #writing tips #writing post

40 notes · View notes

alexaplaysgames · 3 years ago

Note

Can you do Felix and Mc getting into a fight

My angst brain need some

You got it bb <3 Idk if this is really that much of a fight, but I couldn't make the MC too mean to Felix. Also, I’m aware this paints baby in a bad light. I had to make them fight about something okay :’( I don’t think he’d do this in canon.

Title: A bit Bitter

Pairing: Felix Escellun x GN!MC (Last Legacy)

Words: 2564

Tags: @demon-paradise @themohawkhelmet @cactus-hoodie @aomiyeon @piningmaybeanartist @another-confused-gay @uselessbeanies @nomnomcupcakesworld @druwuuwu @frozen-daydream @kirakiratears @margitartist @crowtrinkets @fanfic-about-fictif Please let me know if you would like to be added or removed.

“Tell me the truth, Felix.”

His gray eyes dart upwards from his textbooks as I storm into the room. When he sees what I hold clutched in my hands, he swallows, the bob of his throat visible even from the doorway.

I continue in a voice that is simultaneously weak and as strong as I can manage. “Is this really how you feel?”

“W-why do you have that, love?”

I frown. His nervousness sends guilt shooting through me, but I stamp it out. I’ve bent over backwards for months in an attempt to make him comfortable, and did so gladly. But this? I can only withstand so much.

I set the notebook down on the edge of his desk with a heavy thud. Felix winces.

“The things you wrote in here, about me…” I shake my head, then look away. I can feel my eyes sting, and I bite my tongue to hold back from crying. “Felix-“

“That’s private! You don’t have the right to go snooping through my possessions.”

I sigh. Yeah, I’m nosy and read his journal, and normally I would be ashamed. I shouldn’t have done it, but… “I don’t think that’s important right now.”

“Of course it’s important!” Felix gasps, standing out of his desk chair to snatch up the journal. He meets my eyes with a fragile sort of vulnerability, then pulls the journal defensively to his chest. “I’m not privy to every thought you have. You can’t judge me for mine.”

“I would never think these things of you!” My voice raises until it edges on a shout, and I frantically rush to reign it in. “I would never.”

“That’s not-“ Felix whispers with a shake of his head. “That’s not fair.”

“No. What’s not fair is this.” I reach forward and pull the leather journal from his hands, flipping forward a few weathered pages until I find what I’m looking for.

“‘Not nearly comparable to Rime’s beauty, nor do they possess his talent with magic. They’re candlelight to his radiant sun. I’ve quelled whatever feeling has stirred in my chest and decided that I won’t settle for them. Not while my love is still hurting. And I do miss him so.”

Felix is biting at his lip as I lower the book once more, his eyes watery, wide circles. “That’s old,” he chokes out. “I swear. I don’t feel that way. I love you.”

He looks like he wants to touch me, so I step away. I shake my head. “But you did feel that way.”

“I- why does it matter? That’s private. How- how much else have you read to convince yourself my feelings for you are disingenuous? You were never meant to see any of it.” He’s wrapped arms around his thin frame, now, squeezing his eyes shut as if he wishes this all would simply go away.

“I’ve read enough.”

Felix’s eyes go wide, then dart to the journal in my hand. “Why?” I ask. “Worried there’s something worse left for me to uncover?”

“N-no.” He runs his hand over his face. “Why couldn’t you stay out of my things? That was personal! It was none of your business!” Felix hisses the last words, as close to angry as I’ve ever seen him with me. His eyes are filled with tears, but his expression if one of a rage I’ve never been in the receiving end of.

“Fuck you,” I spit out, watching him hiccup as if the words were a physical blow. “You’re a liar, Felix.” Then I simply can’t help myself but to add, “Maybe you do deserve to be alone.”

I know as soon as I say it that I’ve gone too far, and the look on his face- fuck. I don’t know if I’ll ever get the broken, hurt expression that flashes across his features out of my head. Yes, the words he’d written in that journal had stung, but I don’t feel any satisfaction from hurting him just as badly. If anything, it makes me feel worse.

All I feel is lost. My psyche weighs heavy with guilt, as well as hatred for myself for letting my patience slip. Before it can all come crumbling down on me, I turn on my heel and rush out the door, slamming it behind me with an echo that rings much to hollow to make me feel any better.

✦✧✦✧

I had frantically stuffed my few belongings into a bag and rushed to the nearest inn, flopping onto a rickety bed and crying myself to exhaustion. That had been two days ago, now, and I haven’t spoken to Felix since.

On the bright side, sending drunk texts is much more difficult to do when one doesn’t possess a cellphone.

Each night my dreams are filled with memories of his face, his smile. I can feel him in my arms, see the distinct colour of his blush each time I call him “baby” or “my sweet”. I wonder if I was over-dramatic in my reaction, but then remember the words in that journal. To think, the passage I had read aloud had only been one of many.

No. I was right to be upset.

I keep wondering if maybe the things he wrote in there were true. Yet, it’s so confusing- Felix has always had the upmost respect for me. And he’s not exactly great at hiding his emotions.

I’ve met with Anisa and Sage, both of whom seemed relatively stunned at the news. Anisa had offered exercise as a way to take my mind off it, and Sage had offered… another form of physical activity altogether, which didn’t really surprise me.

“A fight? Really? You two have always seemed like such a sappy married couple…”

I sigh. “Thanks, Sage. Really. It wasn’t even a fight, to be honest.”

“Married couples do fight, Sage.” Anisa pats my hand. “Felix is just dramatic. It will be fine! Whatever he did, I’m sure he didn’t mean it. He just gets a little… jumbled up sometimes. But his intentions are pure. At least, I believe so. You can never tell with Felix.” She smiles. “Give him some time to mope and he’ll apologize.”

“If it helps,” Sage interjects, “he fought all the time with deer boy, and they were apparently a thing. I’m sure he’s used to it.”

I refrain from telling Sage that his oh-so-helpful comment is far from helpful; in fact, it highlights exactly what I’m worried about.

Tonight, thunder strikes outside in heavy, booming claps. The room I’ve rented is lowly lit by a single candle, but the flashes of lightning outside the window often light up the entire space. Rain pelts the roof and the wind howls mournfully, as if in empathy of my crushed spirit.

I’m just in the middle of pretending I’m in a sad music video when I hear an unsteady knock at the door. At first, I think it might be a tree branch outside, being as it’s so soft, but then I hear the sound again.

I fling the wool blankets over my head with a huff and shuffle towards the door, then unceremoniously fling it open.

I should have expected it would be my necromancer boyfriend looking like a drenched cat.

Felix is sopping wet, his hair plastered to his forehead and clothes so soaked I can see his tanned skin underneath. As soon as the door opens, his eyes go wide, and he immediately looks as if he’s attempting to say something, but he can’t seem to spit it out. His teeth are chattering so forcefully he can’t speak, and the wind has whipped the wet strands of hair into his mouth.

He is so stupid. I immediately can’t help but think that I love him. I am definitely morosexual.

I blink dazedly at him for a moment, before grabbing his elbows and hastily pulling him inside.

“I’m s-sorry,” he sobs as I grab a blanket off the bed and hastily wrap it around his shoulders. I can’t tell if he’s shaking from crying or the cold, can’t tell if the wetness on his face is from his tears or the rain. “I’m so sorry.”

“Felix, it’s fine. Come here, you’re going to get hypothermia.”

I grab a towel from the bathroom and begin using it to dry his hair. He shakes his head as he pushes it away, sending droplets of water flying. “No! Listen, please, I am sorry, I am. I wish to explain myself. You deserve that much, at least.”

I sigh, then stand back and nod. I sit down on the edge of the bed. The mattress groans, as do I. “Fine.”

Felix pauses as if he didn’t expect that answer.

Then he picks at the frayed strings of the blanket around him. He shivers as he tugs it tighter around his shoulders. He licks his lips. “I wasn’t in a good place when we met.”

I nod. It was obvious then, and it’s even more so now. “I know.”

“It wasn’t healthy. I know that it wasn’t, but-” he cuts off as the thunder outside rumbles, lightning illuminating the haunted look in his eyes. “I loved Rime. More than that, I obsessed over him.”

That much I had guessed, but the confirmation does still twist my stomach.

“I was still in love with him when we met. Desperately so. I clung to the very idea of him for years. Rime adored how I idolized him, he encouraged it-“ he looks out the window as if lost in thought, then sighs. “It wasn’t you. I would’ve compared anyone to him. I did.”

Felix sniffs, then delicately kneels at my feet. “I am so sorry. I promise I didn’t truly think those things, my dear. I just felt so guilty, every time I felt anything for you. I had made myself think that he was perfect, that I could enforce my love for him through some strange sort of self-discipline.” He cringes, as if he knows how awful that sounds. “It seemed reasonable. I owed him my life.”

Apparently having said what he needed, Felix goes quiet. His eyes are red-rimmed, dark circles underneath, as if he’s been crying instead of sleeping ever since I left him.

“You are so incredibly lovely,” he whispers, choking. “I could see it even then. I was scared of what it would do to me to admit it.”

I swallow. I’m honestly not sure whether to believe him, but the look in his eyes is so earnest. Felix is many things, but he’s not one to hide his feelings, nor is he a good actor. I know deep down that he’s not faking his love for me, despite how my heart convinced me otherwise.

“If- If you’re still angry with me, I understand,” Felix stammers, though the tears in his eyes make it seem like that isn’t true. “M-maybe I should leave-“

The rain pounds harder against the windows. The wind whistles through the surrounding cracks. I grab his wrist.

“Come here, my sweet.”

Felix’s eyes widen at my use of my pet name for him, a timid look of disbelief in his eyes as he takes my hand and allows me to pull him onto the bed. I lie down on my back and guide to lay against my chest.

“I forgive you.” I almost can’t believe the words myself, but I know that it’s the only option I could ever consider. I love him. It’s a simple as it is complex.

“You needn’t-“

“I do. It wasn’t right of you to say those things, but it was also unfair of me to get so angry with you over something you wrote a long time ago. I know your old relationship really took a toll on you. Besides, I said some awful things to you too, Felix,” I continue, reaching up to brush his bangs back from his forehead. He trembles, leaning slightly into my touch. “You don’t deserve to be alone. I wanted to hurt you like you hurt me, and I shouldn’t have. Okay?” I wait until he finally nods to continue. “And I’m sorry for going through your things. I betrayed your trust, and you were right to be upset.”

Felix goes a little slack-jawed before he finally breathes out, “O-of course I forgive you.”

“I’m glad, because I don’t think I could live without you.”

He stares at me for a moment longer before he lurches forward and kisses me, desperate and wanting, full to the brim with both apology and forgiveness. It tastes if the salt of his tears and the cold rainwater that runs over his cheeks. He’s shaking the whole time, and I tug him tighter to my chest. I can feel his heart racing through the fabric of our clothes.

“I love you, sweet.”

“I love you too,” Felix hiccups, “so much.”

We spend a bit longer like that, tangled up in the bedsheets with Felix soaking through both our clothes. Eventually, I pull back.

“Did you really wait until it was storming to show up and apologize?”

A sheepish laugh as he flushes. “I had t-thought it would be romantic. Like in my novels. I didn’t realize it was pouring quite so hard.”

His cheeks are a flaming red and he looks away like he expects me to be upset. I sigh to hide my fond smile. All I can do is kiss him again.

“I’ve brought you something,” Felix murmurs, his lips so close to mine that they brush, his eyelashes wet against my cheeks. He reaches back and takes the leather notebook, the stupid source of all our fighting, out of his coat pocket. It’s surprisingly dry.

I can’t help but want to smack that stupid book out of his hand. “Felix, why would you do that?”

He rolls his eyes, then gets up and stands off to the side of the bed. The room lights up green as his entire hand, the journal with it, are suddenly engulfed in flames, until nothing but ashes sift through his fingertips, drifting down to settle against the wooden floor.

“You’re my future.”

He’s so dramatic. I love him to pieces.

I grab his waist and all but tackle him back onto the bed, delighting in his surprised squeak.

“Stop!” Felix yelps as he falls back against the mattress, only to be assaulted by my cuddles, “I’m positively soaked; I’ll drench the sheets.”

I can’t really say that I care. We have a lot of making up to do; I’m not spending a second without him by my side for the rest of the night. Felix grumbles a final complaint and then sighs. He wraps his arms around me and presses his cheek into my chest, and I can’t help but think he feels the same.

“I didn’t enjoy that,” he mumbles, turning his face into me to hide his expression. “Being apart from you, it- hurt. I missed you.”

“I missed you too, baby.” I’m just realizing how much. His scent and the feel of his hair against my skin, his voice. He’s invaded my senses once more, and it feels like coming back to life.

He turns to look up at me. His cheeks are rosy and his hair mussed, droplets of water clinging to his eyelashes and temples. God, he’s so adorable- I don’t know how I could ever stand to be angry with him. “I don’t want to be at odds with you anymore. I love you too much.”

I boop his perfect nose. “Deal.”

227 notes · View notes

lag1995-fics · 4 years ago

Note

Hii. Can I request a fanfic for the song and Evan character thing? Could it be That's all by Genesis and Kai Anderson please?

I hope you like smut cause this one came out spicy 🌶. Apologies in advance I suck at writing Kai.

That’s All

Pairing:Kai x female reader

Warnings:Kai Anderson being Kai Anderson. Stalking, murder, derogatory language towards women, unhealthy relationship, language, smut

Words: 2190

Summary: Kai and reader share an unhealthy relationship but hey they love each other

Song Fic Masterlist

You were a self professed nasty woman, you had voted proudly for Hillary. She had clearly been the lesser of two evils. Plus it was about god damned time a woman broke that glass ceiling. You were pretty much everything Kai Anderson hated about women in general.

Kai should hate you, he should want to torment you but you intrigued him. It had started simply enough, hun being the entitled creep that he is had watched you do yoga in your backyard. You didn’t know of course, not then at least, that you had gained a stalker.

It hadn’t taken Kai long to realize that he wanted you to be his. He wanted to possess every part of you, he wanted you to be his and only his. He had a very unhealthy obsession with you.

That wasn’t all though he had also caught your eye. You had been out getting your mail one day dressed in nothing but a large t-shirt and shorts so short they couldn’t be seen beneath the hem of the shirt. You had seen him staring you down his blue hair thrown messily up into a bun on top of his head.

You were struck by his Beauty, he truly was a beautiful man. With brown eyes so dark they looked like two pieces of coal staring into your soul. You waved, flashing him a bright grin. He flashed you a grin of his own and as much as it made your panties dampen it also had an unhinged quality.

When you had got inside an uncharacteristically girlish giggle escaped your lips. Your roommate looked at you like you had grown three heads. You could feel your cheeks fill with fire. You were supposed to be a strong woman that didn’t need a man to complete her. Your neighbor was something else though.

“Who is this person giggling like a schoolgirl, that replaced my good friend y/n.” She cackled and you could feel the fire in your cheeks spread to your chest and ears.

“Our neighbor is kind of cute,” you replied waspishly.

“No really where is my roommate, the man hating feminist activist?” She joked.

“I don’t hate all men. I just think that men in general are problematic at best,” you defended huffily.

“He’s probably a raging trumpy,” she teased, lightheartedly.

“Oh is not he had long blue hair that was in a bun” you defended despite not knowing anything about this man. You didn’t know why you felt the need to defend him like you were.

“Oh you got it bad!” she collapsed into a fit of laughter when you threw a throw pillow at her.

***

It was another two weeks before you saw your mysterious neighbor again. He was talking to a shorter girl who was wearing a t-shirt that had “pussy power” emblazoned on her chest. This gave you the burst of confidence you needed as you strode over to them before you could talk yourself out of it.

“I love your shirt” you addressed the girl and she flashed you a grin.

“Thanks,” She replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. You could feel his eyes boring into the side of your head and flashed him a smile as well. You couldn’t help but admit to being a bit disappointed when he rolled his eyes.

“Ignore him. I’m Winter and this is my brother Kai” she introduced herself holding out a hand for you to shake which you did.

Kai the name rolled around in your head. You couldn’t help but entertain some mild fantasy of screaming out his name as he fucked you into a mattress. You shook the dirty fantasy from your mind.

“Nice to meet you I’m y/n,” you held out a hand to the blue haired man letting yourself take him in up close.

He had messy stubble along his chin and his blue hair hung around his face. His eyes were even more haunting up close and you felt like you could get lost in them. He took your hand wrapping his larger one around it, he had a firm grip. You couldn’t help but physically gulp from the skin to skin contact.

“We’ve met before, you live across the street. You like the power puff girls right?” He teased and you suddenly remembered what shirt you had been wearing.

“The power puff girls are fucking rad Kai” Winter defended and you smiled at her. Something in the way he looked at you made you want to submit to him. It was overwhelming to say the least.

“Whatever” he rolled his eyes again.

***

You and winter only grew closer and she quickly became part of your friend group. You tried to forget about Kai after finding out his political affiliations. He was everything you fought against. He was proud of being a chauvinistic pig.

You had decided to move on after a heated debate on men’s rights. You had tried to point out that all feminists wanted was equality. Men in this country as it stood right now had more rights than women did. It was a travesty.

He wouldn’t listen to you at all and went out of his way to call you a Misandrist. You had boiled over at that loudly proclaiming that you had really liked him up until the point he started spewing this nonsense. He was a pig and didn’t deserve the time of day you had already given him.

You would think that the polar opposite political opinions would cut the sexual tension like a hot king through butter; it didn’t though. If anything you were even more attracted to the man and Kai who normally had minimal patience for mouthy women was even more interested in making you his. He didn’t want to break you the fighting was too much fun but he definitely wanted to bend you to his will enough that you would never leave him.

You on the other hand had forced yourself to start dating other people. None of them compared to the man who fucked you everynight in your dreams. Kai Anderson was a force to be reckoned with.

***

Kai was sitting in the basement when Winter trudged down with her arms full of pizza. His eyes snapped to his sister and he couldn’t help but ask about y/n.

“Is y/n coming for dinner?” He asked, eyeing the pizza. Winter couldn’t help but roll her eyes at her brother who had developed an unhealthy obsession with her newest friend.

“No she’s got a date tonight some dude called Brad” Winter shrugged nonchalantly, knowing it would rile up her brother.

“What the fuck, she can’t go on a date with another dude” Kai spat possessively.

“Well tell her that because she definitely went on a date tonight” Winter laughed leaving her brother to stew in his resentment before he could snap at her.

“BULLSHIT!” He roared, flipping the coffee table in his anger.

He angrily grabbed his laptop logging into Facebook, whoever this Brad fucker was; was a deadman. He found your profile going to your profile ignoring the hideous cat eared beanie covering your beautiful hair in your profile picture. There were only three Brads on your friends list, one of them was well into his fifties and married, the other shared your last name and was probably a cousin. That left only one option, the man who appeared in the photo was everything Kai wasn’t. He was clean cut and wore a goofy ass bow tie.

He made a call ordering a hit on him but only if he was alone. He couldn’t risk you possibly getting hurt in the crossfire.

***

It was only two days after your disastrous tinder date that you found out Brad had been murdered. You were sad for his family. The date hadn’t been great but he had been nice in a dweeby, Silicon Valley sort of way. It seemed Kai had ruined you for all other men. You couldn’t help but compare them to him.

Winter had called you telling you how sorry she was. Winter was sorry she hadn’t thought Kai would murder someone just for dating you. She had only meant to piss him off; she didn’t want to be responsible for this man’s death.

***

You were at the Anderson’s again eating Chinese this time. It had almost become a every other day ritual. She would go hang out with Winter and argue with her brother.

“Women should be put back in their place,” he had started in before you cut him off glaring at him.

“Oh and what place would that be because I think it should be in a place of power. You know like the office of the presidency,” you snarled.

“Oh my god would you guys just fuck already and get it over with?” Winter who was fed up rolled her eyes walking up the stairs leaving you alone with Kai. Your eyes flashed to Kai’s and you could clearly read the hunger in them.

“She’s got a point,” he said lowly, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. You didn’t even realize you had unconsciously been walking toward him until you felt his strong arms wrap around your waist pulling you into him making you squeak.

“Fuck” you whispered looking into his eyes.

“A pretty girl like you should use such whorish language, I might have to wash that dirty slut mouth out with soap,” he groaned pushing his need against your pelvis.

“Oh god,” you whined grasping at his strong shoulders for stability.

“Say my name whore,” he snapped, his hand reaching under your comfortable sweat shirt and undoing your bra.

“Kai,” you breathed before pressing your lips into his own. He quickly took control of the kiss fighting your tongue and biting down sharply when he won.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted to do this to you since you started teasing me with your slutty little yoga moves” he ground himself into you.

You couldn’t find the right words so you just moaned as he started stripping both of you of your clothes. When he slipped your yoga pants from you body and saw that you were wearing any underwear underneath he got a maniacal look in his eyes.

“Fuck you are a little whore,” he slipped his fingers into the folds of your sopping cunt.

“You like that slut?” He punctuated each word with the curl of his fingers against that sweet spot. When you didn’t answer he proceeded to add two more fingers and you could feel the burning stretch.

“I asked you a question,” he demanded fucking your pussy with his fingers and rubbing your clit with his thumb.

“I love it,” you managed to choke out, “please Kai I need you”

“Fuck,” he his pulling his finishers from you wet pussy lips and shoved them into your mouth to suck on them, slowly thrusting them into your pretty little mouth.

“That’s what a woman’s mouth should be used for, not mouthing off,” he chuckled darkly.

You gasped as you felt the blunt head of his cock against your pussy. Without warning he slammed into you to the hilt sending your already sensitive body off the edge and into a wave of pleasure.

“That’s right cum on my cock bitch,” he gasped as he pounded into you hard and fast. You could feel the build of another orgasm cresting. Your walls began to flutter around him causing him to lose some control as his thrusting became erratic. The two of you sailed off the precipice together.

With more care then you would have expected he pulled out of you kissing your forehead. He grabbed his soft t-shirt using it to wipe you as you lay cuddled to his chest. Your mind was whirling at the fact that you had just let Kai fucking Anderson fuck the shit out of you while he called you every name in the book. It would be easier to find someone that held the same viewpoints as you. They just never seemed to strike your heart strings the way Kai did. You could be wearing a white shirt and prove to him it was white and he would still say it was black. You were yin and yang, and you knew now you wouldn’t be able to leave.

“Y/n, I love you” he said and if you hadn’t been listening you wouldn’t have heard it. Your eyes widened, Kai didn’t love anyone, not even Winter. He also wasn’t a liar and if he said that he loved you , it was true no matter how unhealthy their relationship was.

“I love you too. It had slipped out before you could think about the consequences of this. What the two of you had was pure and primal.

“You do know that I will never stop arguing with you though?” You added. You still believed wholeheartedly that women deserved the same advantages as men.

“I’d be disappointed if you did” he confessed and you leaned up to kiss him melting once again into his touch.

——//////———-//////———

Send me a song and an Evan Peters Character and I’ll write you a fic.

#kai anderson x reader #kai anderson #kai is a jerk wad #kai x reade #kai x reader #kai #ahs cult #possibly triggering #evan peters #reader insert #ahs fanfiction #fanfiction

67 notes · View notes

bokutos-eyebrows · 4 years ago

Text

A Trip to Paradise

I literally am so in love with Hinata I just want to give him everything. In celebration of his birthday I present to you a smut fic starring our favorite Tangerine boy… :) he deserves all the pleasure in the world. Please enjoy~

Hinata Shoyo x fem! Reader

Word Count: 2,304

Warnings: NSFW 18+, semi spoilers

On vacation in Rio, you get ditched by your “friends”. With nothing better to do, you watch the local beach volleyball tournament, and catch the eye of the best player there…

Hey, we went out to the club~ See you later tonight maybe? We might need a ride to the hotel!

“Fuck,” you groaned as you read the text that popped up on your phone. “Who goes clubbing at 11 am?”

You had come on this trip with girls from school who thought you were your friends, but they had ditched you to go clubbing multiple times throughout the week. Not wanting to babysit a bunch of drunk girls, you decided to ignore their text and explore the city.

It was another hot day in Rio, the beach was crowded of course, but you enjoyed people watching. Your eyes scanned the horizon before falling on a large crowd. Huh, beach volleyball? You watched as the crowd erupted in cheers. Curious, you made your way over to the commotion.

The star of the show was a tan, orange haired boy. He was fast, even in the sand, and could both set and spike almost flawlessly. You were awestruck by his passion for the sport. He and his partner won that set, furthering in the competition. You stayed to watch the next game, unable to take your eyes off him.

“Another win for Hinata Shoyo,” The announcer boomed as the crowd cheered loudly. Someone started chanting “Ninja! Shoyo! Ninja! Shoyo” which caught on quickly. Hinata beamed at the praise, waving his hands and bowing. He must be a local, you thought before locking eyes with him through the crowd. He shot you a huge smile and thumbs up, and just like that, you fell under the Shoyo love spell.

You stuck around for the remainder of the competition. Watching Hinata dominate the court was addicting. You loved seeing his smile when the crowd cheered for him. Entranced by the talented player, you didn’t realize you had 4 missed calls from your friends.

Walking away from the tournament, you called your friend back only to receive a drunken earful about how you needed to come pick them up. Begrudgingly, you left the beach. After an hour of trying to wrangle up the drunken group safely back to your hotel, you headed back to the beach.

“There's still a while before sunset,” you mumbled to yourself, “I hope I didn’t miss the end of the competition.” But to your dismay, there was no longer a crowd, just a few groups playing around on the courts. You sighed, sad that you wouldn’t be getting another glimpse of the majestic Shoyo.

“Oh! There you are!” You heard an enthusiastic voice call out from behind you. Turning around, your heart fluttered as you saw the orange haired boy running towards you.

“Hi! I’m Hinata Shoyo! I saw you in the crowd today, thanks for cheering me on!” He beamed at you, smile as bright as the sun.

“H-Hi I’m y/n.” You stuttered, surprised that he recognized you.

“Aah! Y/n! Are you here on vacation?”

You explained your situation to an empathetic Hinata. He knew how lonely this city could be when you’re on your own. He took you for a walk down the beach as he listened to you vent about your ‘friends’.

“Well, if you want, I can show you around! I know all the best spots in town!”

You smiled at him, “It’s okay! You really don’t have to just becau-”

“But I want to...” Hinata interrupted, “So let’s go, yeah?” He grabbed you by the hand, leading you to the best date of your life.

Everywhere Hinata took you, the locals were calling out to him, asking about his day and offering fruits or drinks. He had friends in every part of the city, even the stray dogs and cats adored him. He bought you your favorite ice cream, fresh from the local paleteria.

Shoyo had so many stories about his volleyball antics, things that happened during his delivery job, and just daily life, that you were convinced he was the most interesting person in the world. The way his eyes lit up when he remembered something funny or talked about his friends back in Japan was enamoring. I could listen to him for hours… you mused.

“Oh! It’s almost sunset, I know a really nice spot overlooking the ocean, if we hurry we can make it in time!” Hinata exclaimed, grabbing you by the hand again.He took you to a secluded hill with a panoramic view of the entire coastline.

“Hinata, will you take a picture of me please? I want to remember this view.”

He took your phone as you posed with the sunset in the background. After taking a few pictures, you noticed him struggling to focus on the camera.

“Is something wrong?” You asked.

“N-No, I’m just having a hard time since the view is so beautiful…”

“Yes! I’ve never seen a sunset like this!”

“No,” Hinata looked up at you, “You’re the most beautiful view.”

As much as you wanted to giggle at the cheesy line, Hinata said it with so much genuine sincerity you couldn’t help but blush. He stood next to you, handing your phone back, also blushing deeply.

“W-Was that too much?” He stuttered nervously.

“Not at all,” You put a hand on his cheek, “It was really sweet...you’re really sweet. No one’s ever shown me such a fun day..” You felt Hinata’s breath hitch as you leaned in closer.

“Shoyo, can I kiss you?”

“You can do anything you want to me, y/n.”

With that, your lips gently pressed onto his. He tasted faintly of strawberries from the ice cream he had earlier. You felt Hinata’s hands slowly grasp your waist. Not wanting the moment to end, you deepened the kiss, slowly moving your lips in rhythm with his. You loved how he smelled like the faintest hint of sunscreen and sea breeze.

Hinata squeezed your hips as you opened your eyes slightly just to look at the precious boy. His long lashes fluttered as you kissed him. He looks so cute even with his eyes closed. You put your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. The slightest gasp left your mouth as you felt his growing hard on press up against your stomach.

“I-I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it..”

You giggled and pressed your body closer to his. “Why don’t you take me to your place next?” Hinata smiled slyly as he led you back to the city towards his apartment.

As you arrived, Hinata was fiddling with the lock on his front door. You hugged him from behind and started kissing his neck, making him almost drop his keys in his frenzy to get you to his bedroom. He finally got the door open and gently pulled you inside, pushing you up against the door after closing it.

“I’m going to get you back for that, y/n.” He teased as he started to leave wet kisses on your neck. You moaned, excited to see what the night had in store for you.

“Hinata! OH! UH S-Sorry!” You hear a new voice yell as the silhouette of another man runs away.

“Oh, shit! PEDRO I’M SORRY!!!!!!!!!!!!” Hinata broke away from you and chased after the man, only to drag him back to where you were for an awkward introduction.

You learned that the man was Pedro, Hinata’s roommate for the duration of his stay in Brazil. He was a little awkward at first, but opened up to you when Hinata told him that you like anime and manga too. The three of you talked for a while. Hinata gave you an apologetic ‘sorry we got interrupted earlier’ look but you didn’t mind. As long as you got to stay wrapped up in the world of Hinata Shoyo a little longer, you were happy.

“Well, I have an exam to study for tomorrow,” Pedro yawned, “If I can stay up that is…”

“Pedro! Take your studies more seriously!” Hinata chided. His roommate just waved him off and left towards his side of the apartment.

“He seems nice! I’d love to have a roommate with the same interests as me!” You spoke, turning to face Shoyo.

“I love Pedro! I feel lucky to have found him..” He scooted closer, thighs touching yours, “And I feel lucky to have found you too...should we head to my room?”

You smiled, eager to finish what the two of you had started. “Yes, please!”

Hinata picked you up and ran to his room, locking the door behind him. He gently tossed you onto his bed. You studied his room as he got on top of you, only to have your arms suddenly pinned down above your head.

“Hey.” Hinata bent down, face inches from yours, “Pay attention to me now, okay?” He commanded. You nodded, entranced by his sudden change.

He smiled at you cooing different praises as he started to trail kisses up and down your chest. He released your hands as he helped you shimmy out of your top, gasping in awe at his full view of your chest.

“You’ve got such a nice body, y/n.” He whispered, fondling your breasts. You gasped in pleasure as he flicked his tongue over your nipple, earning a slight moan from him. “I’m going to make you feel so good..”

He released your soft bud from his mouth and started kissing down your torso, licking the area above your waistband. You whined in anticipation as he unbuttoned your shorts slowly before pulling them down, leaving you in just your panties.

“Ooh! What cute panties! They’d look cuter on the floor though!” Hinata giggled, tossing off your underwear in one swoop. “Ah! That’s more like it.” He lowered his face to your already sopping wet core.

“Thanks for the meal!”

Hinata wasted no time plunging his tongue onto your slit. He licked circles over your clit so quickly, with just the right amount of pressure, you thought you might cum right that second. You felt your orgasm building up, just as you reached the edge, Hinata moved his mouth off your clit and directly on your entrance. He pushed his tongue in, licking around your walls diligently. You gasped, eyes rolling to the back of your head. The feeling was even more intense than before and you rode out your release on Hinata’s tongue.

“Ahh! Shoyo,” You moaned out, fistfull of his hair in your hands. You felt his lips curl into a smile at your quick orgasm. But he didn’t stop there. He started licking up and down your slit, making sure to lap up every drop of your release. You gasped in delight when you felt his fingers start rubbing your clit at the same time he was eating you out. He started to go faster, rhythmically matching his tongue with his fingers. You felt another orgasm start. Hinata reached up to cover your mouth from being too loud as you came a second time on his face.

Exhausted, you panted out his name. He gave one more lap up and down your slit before getting up. “You’re so pretty when you cum for me.” He mused, stroking your hair.

“Hinata,” you breathed out, “You’re amazing..I..want to feel you.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Hinata threw off his clothes and started teasing you with his erect length.

“Do you really want me to put it in?” He double checked that you were okay.

“Yes please right now!”

Hinata entered you slowly, stretching out your walls with his stiff member. He groaned out in pleasure.

“Y/n, your pussy’s so wet for me.” He whispered as he started thrusting into you. You grabbed his hips, pulling him in deeper with every thrust. He took the hint and started fucking you faster. You kissed his neck, making sure to leave hickies that would last a while after you had gone.

Shoyo pulled out of you, flipping you over onto your stomach. You propped your ass up and he smacked it hard before pounding you from behind. He was going absolutely feral and you loved every second of it.

“Spank me harder!” You cried out. Hinata obliged, leaving red hand prints all over your ass. He loved the fact that you’d probably still feel the sting of his hands the next day. As he thrusted into you again you felt yourself let go. Your mind went blank and your third release came out.

“Ohh y/n, you love my dick so much you squirted everywhere!” Hinata teased.

“I-I’ve ah,” you tried to speak, “I’ve never done that before.”

Hinata beamed at his accomplishment, “I told you I’d make you feel good.”

Now it was your turn. Wanting to make him feel just as good, you started thrusting back onto him, shaking your ass to give him a nice show. He tightened his grip on your hips as you clenched your walls on his length. He gasped at your change of pace.

“Y/n, I’m gonna- ah,” He pulled out of you and painted your backside with his release. Panting, he reached over and grabbed a towel to wipe you off before you both collapsed onto his bed.

“Shoyo that was amazing.” You whispered, too exhausted to talk at full volume.

“How much longer are you staying in Rio?” He asked suddenly.

“I don’t leave for another 3 days..”

“Stay with me till then.” Hinata grabbed your face gently. “I’ll give you the best three days of your life.”

You smiled, excited to be able to enjoy the rest of your vacation with Hinata.

“Okay. I’ll stay with you, Shoyo.”

Notes:

I literally only meant this to be a short one shot and it ended up taking 6 google docs pages I am a SIMP for this man

#hinata x reader #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata shouyo x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu!! headcanons #happy birthday hinata #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu smut

310 notes · View notes

babyybitchhh · 4 years ago

Note

Oh! You are taking requests! That’s awesome! ✨💫 I’d like to request a scenery where the reader lost her sister to Douma (she lacks proof... it’s an strong gut feeling?... she’s right tho) so, she get on his “good side” working in his cult to get a chance to avenge her sibling... her acting convincing and the “betrayal” amuses him to no end, so he decides to play with her before... eating/transforming her? Your choice! I’m a sucker for horror so it could be as dark as your heart allow it! 💜💃

Sorry this took so long cxnvldsnvoen and even though I tweaked the storyline just a wittle bit, I hope you like it! <3

Words: 2639

Rating: Explicit/R-18+

Warnings: Cunnilingus, involuntary urination, cannibalism (sort of, you know the drill with Douma), body horror? Sexual gore? Yandere?? I’ll be honest, I’m not entirely sure how to tag this one.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24362824/chapters/66015442#workskin

♥♥♥♥

You were easily the most insincere person he’d ever had the pleasure of knowing.

The lie itself was written all across your face in bold, slashing brushstrokes for the whole world to see if only they’d look close enough but so few ever did. He alone was privy to your deceit. Only he saw that dishonest smile for what it was, always so placid and warm even though it just barely concealed the hissing viper within. The unwavering mask of false loyalty you greet him with and the rage waging war behind your eyes every time you look into his face. Everything was right there, completely out in the open as if you couldn’t be bothered with trying to hide it, and Douma loved that aspect of you perhaps most of all.

Just as any good figurehead should, he’d nurtured the darkness within you until it sprouted roots and festered, growing ever larger as your hate for him also grew. Welcomed you and your heavy burden with open arms. Encouraged it even. You were simply too fun to play with and he was ever so curious to see how far into depravity you would ultimately spiral because of him. In some ways it was sad. Pathetic even that you would devote what was left of your miserable life to being a duplicitous little bitch when there were so many alternatives that were far, far more pleasant. But it was also undeniably thrilling at the same time, almost intoxicatingly so.

To think that he had angered you to the point of not only chasing after him like a pitiable stray but to also go so far as joining his congregation just to get close … this was a uniquely exquisite indulgence he wouldn’t soon rush to squander. Particularly not when keeping you around afforded him so many plushy benefits.

“You’re trembling.” A dangerously sharp nail traces its path down the length of your twitching stomach. He pauses at your belly button, toys with the notion of jamming his finger right through it and into your guts, but ultimately decides to save it for another day. Humming faintly, Douma resumes his tauntingly slow descent south. “Are you cold?”

You refuse to look at him and instead push the side of your face deeper into the pillow. It was always like this no matter how often he opened up his chamber doors in welcome. You simply refused to stop playing your part even when he had you spread out like some shameless whore on his bed of silk and that would never cease to amuse him for as long as he allowed you to live. You’d have been quite the accomplished actress if only you hadn’t been going up against the head performer himself. That you were out of your league was, to him at least, painfully obvious but he didn’t have the heart to tell you that just yet.

No, not yet. There was still more of you to savor.

Bending close, Douma presses a lingering kiss to the center of your stomach. He can taste you on his tongue, blooming notes of stale meat poisoned with bitter fury, and it elicits a quiet groan out of him. You were the finest decadence he’d had in his bed in a very long while.

“Poor thing, that just won’t do. Let me warm you up.”

You squirm against the sheets as he pecks his way lower, issuing expertly timed sighs at the appropriate intervals. He appreciates just how committed you are to the act. Wonders if you found some pathetic young sod to practice with before presenting yourself to him or if you were simply a brazen slut by nature. It’s hard to say which prospect delighted him more, though Douma hardly cares to know the answer, particularly when he presses two fingers to your outer labia and carefully spreads them open.

So soft and fleshy, the petal-like folds make his mouth water. He could imagine no greater joy than nibbling on those puffy little lips and taking nipping bites at the swollen pearl bud that peaks up at him even now until you were bordering on hysterics, fighting him tooth and nail to get away. Only then, only when you were a frenzied animal trying to escape his taloned clutches, would Douma allow himself to sink his teeth in at long last. He was certain your sweet cunt would give way under his jaw without much resistance, if any at all. It would be just like biting into a peach.

But you weren’t quite ripe enough yet. You were almost there -- so, so very close he could just about feel the meat of your womanhood being rendered and chewed between his molars -- but still not there. He would satiate his abominable hunger only when you were blackened, mind, body and soul with your hate.

Eagerly licking his lips, Douma leans down and swipes the tip of his tongue across your clit. The way the meaty nub clings to his taste buds, dragging against the salivating muscle until it pops back into place with a plump jiggle, delights him to no end. It was so swollen that even it’s protective hood did very little in the way of concealing your arousal. If he didn’t know any better, he’d almost think you’d had to go months on end without release. Evidently, though, your cunt just enjoyed being on the receiving end of his attention that much even when your brain was most assuredly in total disagreement with that sentiment.

He moans, very faintly, at the thought of your brain. The day of feast couldn’t come quick enough.

“Oh, sweet dove …” Douma coos, nuzzling into your clenching pussy as if he were a cat marking its territory. “Are you really so neglected? I’m not sure how you’ll ever forgive me for making you suffer like this.”

You choke down an unintelligible sound that’s half sob, half moan and bring your hand up to coquettishly hide your mouth from his line of sight. “Douma-sama … please …”

He can hear it in your voice. The lie. The obvious, blatant, belligerent lie and it goes straight to his cock.

Undeniably, you sold the performance with every aspect of your body language right down to the way you shyly spread your legs further apart for him but the lie was still there. It was simply too big to hide. Not the small, pardonable white lie a god could be swayed to forgive with the right offering but a massive, all encompassing falsehood that had long since swallowed up your ego like a gluttonous black hole. You weren’t a person any longer but a container merely housing the selfish urge for vengeance.

You were so damn close.

Nails digging into the plush swell of your thigh, Douma lays himself out flat between your legs and presses his mouth to your slit. For as brief as the gesture is, he still comes away with glistening wet lips and he greedily licks up the evidence just as a carnivore might lick its bloodied chops. Delicious.

“Don’t fret, my dear. I know exactly what you need.” A pause. Another playful kiss to your gushing cunt. The savory smacking of his lips is quickly followed by a dreamy, almost wistful sigh that makes you shudder, though it's impossible to say if that reaction was one of pleasure or abject disgust. Not that it really mattered either way to him. “Just relax. Let me take care of you and then you’ll be free to scurry off back to bed like a good little girl.”

You visibly tense under him and, smothering the cruel laughter that tries to claw its way up his throat, Douma glances at your face.

Still partially obscured by your clenched fist, you continue to hide from him as if you were an untouched maiden being ravaged against your will even though you’d spent countless nights with him in his room like this. Always, always playing your role. The tension in your neck, however, told a different story. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that you were biting your tongue and he derived a great deal of joy in the knowledge that you despised being talked down to so much. It just made him want to do it even more.

“Do you have any idea how good you taste? You’re like the sweetest forbidden fruit to me.” Tilting his head, Douma seals his lips around your pulsing clit and mouths at you. You arch, shoving your bare tits into the air with a quiet hiss but, still, you won’t look down at him. That suits him just fine though and he comes up off you a moment later with an obscenely loud, attention grabbing slurp that makes you twitch. “I could just eat you up, you know that?”

“D - Douma-sama --”

His tongue abruptly darts out, mercilessly lashing your clit.

You outright squeal, jolting at the sudden onslaught of stimulation before catching yourself and forcibly choking back any other sounds you may have been inclined to make. Douma is not so easily deterred though and he laps at you hungrily, attacking the engorged pleasure button from every possible angle until you’re a quaking mess underneath him. He could help himself to your sopping little cunt for hours if given the chance, high as a kite off the very real urge to consume you in the most literal sense, but it doesn’t take long at all to have you writhing uncontrollably. Although unfortunate, it was expected given just how needy and swollen you were -- and just for him at that. Who could have ever guessed?

“Oh, darling,” He pants, groans into the meat of your pussy. His eyes start to roll back in doped out bliss when your wild twisting drags those petal soft folds across his mouth as if you were intentionally teasing him now. Begging him to just take the plunge and take a bite out of you already.

It was almost enough to break his resolve. He wanted nothing more than to gorge himself on your delectably tainted body until he was too stuffed to move but the part of him that knows precisely how satisfying the payoff will be keeps him in check. It’s too soon -- still too soon to indulge -- and he has to make do with simply drooling all over your poor defenseless cunt while it creams around nothing except your hatred of him. Of all the meals Douma has enjoyed in his lifetime, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that you would be the one he’d relish the most.

So caught up in the ecstasy inducing thought of finally eating you, truly eating you, he doesn’t notice you withdrawing a razor sharp pin from your hair until it’s right in his face. Blinking incandescent eyes at the foreign object, Douma allows himself another lazy lick at your still palpitating cunt and you seeth through gritted teeth, the glinting metal trembling in your hand.

“Get. Off.”

He acquiesces without a fuss.

You don’t even try to hide your surprise as you warily watch him sit up so that he’s kneeling on the futon between your spread legs. Clearly you’d expected a different reaction out of him and that makes Douma smile. You don’t seem to appreciate that though and you jerkily sit up straighter, jabbing the pin at him in warning.

“Wipe that smirk off your face, demon!”

“Or what?” He asks sweetly. “Are you going to kill me?”

“Yes! I’m going to kill you and take revenge for my sister!”

Brows drawing up in affected pity, Douma pins you with a withering leer. “If you’re going to kill me anyway then I don’t see any reason why I should stop smiling.”

Balking, you sputter indignantly. “You - you horrid fiend --”

He moves too quick for you to react. His arm swings, slamming into your wrist with enough force to send the pin flying. You reel back with a haggard gasp but he grabs your forearm in a pinching grip and yanks you close again. Bringing his opposite hand up, Douma rams his palm into the underside of your outstretched limb. The resulting crack is instantaneous and horrible. Your face crumples in agony.

You scream.

“Now, now,” He purrs, letting your arm fall limp at your side. In a shell shocked panic, you try to reach for it as if to reset the bone yourself but he all too easily catches your shaking hand in his. Cradling it close to his chest just as one might do with a lover, Douma smiles at you as he effortlessly snaps your other arm just as he’d done the first. “Calm down. Everything will be alright.”

He can barely hear himself over your frenzied shrieking. It’s hard not to take pity on you when you’re like this, looking for all the world like nothing more than a wounded animal. Confused and so incredibly scared. Almost out of your mind with pain even as regret and terror flash at him through wide, glossy eyes.

It really was a shame too. You’d been so close to reaching full maturity but, well … this would probably do the trick just as well. Not right away, of course, because the only thing currently running through your mind were baser instincts that served no real purpose other than keeping you alive. You were in no mindset to humor your feelings of resentment and hate for him, or the loss of your sister for that matter.

Was that really what had prompted you to seek him out like this? Douma couldn’t exactly recall but it was a believable explanation. He was certainly willing to accept it, at least.

Deciding that the details didn’t really matter, he reaches out to grab your shoulders and shoves you back down on the bed. You wordlessly stare up at him in wild eyed terror as he rises above you like some sort of beautifully horrific wraith, preternaturally sharp teeth glinting in the low light when he grins at you. The shock must be starting to set in because your mouth moves but nothing comes out. Not so much as a peep, as though your voice box had been stolen.

He can’t help the deranged titter that bursts out of him. You were so damn cute .

“Don’t worry, darling. I won’t kill you. Not yet, anyway.” Contently sighing, Douma leans close to nuzzle his nose against yours in a mockingly affectionate gesture that only makes you shake harder. “You’ll stay here with me until you’re rotting from the inside out. I want you to despise me with every fiber of your being first and then, when you can’t even look at me without being consumed by rage, then I’ll finally eat you. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

You don’t respond - maybe you can’t - but he does feel the moment your bladder finally gives out and seeping wet warmth spreads across the front of his pants. A shudder of revulsion works its way down his spine and he clucks at you, letting his mouth tug into a disappointed frown.

“Such a high maintenance little girl … what should I do with you until then, hmm?” Douma thoughtfully puts his head to one side but quickly perks up at a sudden thought that has him smiling from ear to ear with nothing short of manic glee. “Oh, I know! Maybe I should break your legs too. Then you won’t be able to do anything at all without my help.”

An insignificant, fraying part of your conscience that had managed to cling to its humanity must register what he’d said because you begin shaking your head, still as silent as any mute, and that just makes his grin widen.

“I bet you’ll really start to hate me then, won’t you?”

#kimetsu no yaiba #KnY #douma x reader #Douma #kny douma #self insert bullshit #my writing

102 notes · View notes

burnedbyshoto · 5 years ago

Note

8 from fluff for Tamaki? 🥺💕

amajiki tamaki x reader

“Us… I like the sound of that.”

warnings: fluff

a/n: tamaki more like dont make me

~~~

“Tamaki-kun!” You hiss as you motion for him to come over to you.

The shy boy glanced at you as you hovered over your desk in a very suspicious way, your hair was sopping wet as you claimed your umbrella broke earlier on. Then all day you had been making weird noises, at this point Tamaki was nervous about what you were hiding.

Walking over to you, he yelped as you grabbed his elbow and brought him in closer to you.

“Look!” You squealed under your breath as you opened the desk to reveal a kitten wrapped up in a blanket he knew you stored in here for whenever you got cold. “I found this little guy on my way to school when I broke my umbrella. Apparently trying to copy Singing In the Rain requires a sturdy umbrella and not one I found for free.”

Tamaki’s eyes widened as he listened to you ramble on about your morning adventure as the grey furred kitten made a small yelping sound. He was hungry.

“Y-Y/l/n-chan... do you... do you know how to take care of a... um... of a cat?”

“No, my mom is super afraid of animals, so I was going to keep him here,” you explain as Tamaki shakes his head.

“Y-You can’t do that!” Tamaki says as he walks back to his seat and takes out the carton of milk he had. “H-He’s a baby, he needs attention.”

“But he was abandoned.” You frown as you stare down at the softly crying kitten, you feel sad as you hear truth to his words. “I can’t abandon him.”

Tamaki couldn’t even attempt to stare at you because your kindness and courage was too bright for him to handle. “I-I can help...”

“You WILL?!” You exclaim loudly hugging Tamaki tightly as he carefully feeds the small animal before him. He almost squawked as he squeezed the milk tightly in his hand as a scarlet blush manifested on his face. “TAMAKI-KUN YOU CAN BE THE MOM AND ILL BE THE DAD! This is a job for us! We have to do it!!!”

Now there was no logic behind what Tamaki said next, and years later he still blamed it on you making him deliriously happy, “Us... I like the sound of that...”

“What was that Tamaki-kun?”

“NOTHING!”

#tamaki amajiki #tamaki x reader #amajiki tamaki x reader #tamaki fluff #bnha writing blog #bnha #bnha x reader #mha #mha x reader #burnedbyshoto sleepover

581 notes · View notes

simp-for-spencer-reid · 4 years ago

Text

Sugar with a Side of Coffee Ch. 7- Raining in My Apartment

Chapter 7: Raining in My Apartment

Series Masterlist :)

Spencer awoke the next morning still sitting up on his couch, one of his blankets draped over his lap. He stared at the ceiling, piecing together the night before. His face turned red as he remembered inviting Cate over. He was sure he blew it. Who invites a girl over and then falls asleep? He really hoped he hadn’t screwed up. He finally peeled his head off the back of the couch, catching sight of his glasses and a sticky note on his coffee table. He put his glasses on his face, and picked up the note, like it would turn to dust if he wasn’t careful.

Spencer,

Thanks for having me over! :)

Sleep tight,

Cate :)

He placed the note back and looked around his apartment. His alarm wasn’t due to go off for another five minutes according to his watch. Speaking of which, he patted his pockets for his phone, coming up empty. It wasn’t on the coffee table or the side table. Sliding his hands in between the cushions, he finally found his phone. A notification of a new voice message from Cate was lighting up the screen. As he played it, he felt the corners of his mouth turn into a smile.

His alarm pulled him from his thoughts and he had to get up and get ready for work. He made a mental note to send her a message back later that day. Sleeping on the couch made him feel sweaty, so he needed a shower before catching the bus to work.

Cate had rushed into The Empty Mug for her shift. The late night had made her snooze her alarm one too many times. Shrimp was no help, curled up in the bend of her knees contently before yawning and stretching as Cate flew out of bed. Cate had expected to see a voice message from Spencer, but the only text she had was from Marta. It was a gif of Snooki from Jersey Shore, saying something along the lines of “Get it, Girl!”.

“About time!” Marta said to Cate sternly. “If Sweater Vest is going to make you late to work, I might have to disapprove of him.” Marta was flying behind the counter, making a few orders at once.

“I know, it won’t happen again” Cate mumbled to Marta, her mouth holding a clip while Cate pulled her hair back into a half up half down style.

“Good, now when you get back, we have matters to discuss!” Marta had to cut their conversation short, not only because she was serving, but because Cate had to get out onto the cart.

As Cate’s shift was ending, her phone was ringing in her pocket. She had no customers in sight, so she pulled it out of her pocket. Spencer’s contact was displayed on the screen.

“Hey,” Cate said, wiping the counter. “What’s up?”

“Hi, I, um, I’m sorry I fell asleep last night.” Spencer stuttered nervously. “I didn’t mean to, I was just so exhausted from the case-” Spencer rambled until Cate cut him off.

“It’s totally fine! I know your job is tough.” Cate smiled. She could almost hear Spencer smile on the other end of the line.

“Did, did you like the movie?” He asked nervously.

“Yeah I did!” Cate wiped the counter of the cart. “But next time, I’m picking the movie.” She said with a smile. She imagined the two of them in her apartment, binging all of the Harry Potter films, snuggled on the couch with enough junk food to feed a small army.

“Deal!” Spencer said eagerly. He wanted to make up for falling asleep, and he wanted to be conscious for their next hang out. Mostly, he was glad that Cate was so understanding about him being so relaxed he slipped into the best sleep he’d gotten in a while.

Despite The Empty Mug providing coffee for the BAU in their building, Spencer still stopped by in the mornings when he had the chance. Cate was able to keep it short and sweet, having his coffee ready and sometimes a baked item made from the night before. They kept their conversations short, so as to keep the cart’s line moving. Besides, they enjoyed their voice messages. It was like the staple to their friendship.

On the days that Spencer didn’t show, Cate would ask him about it. He would explain he was away on a case in another state. Cate was fascinated by the idea of a private jet for the agents. She loved flying, and loved looking out the windows on planes, unfortunately she didn’t fly often. She envied that Spencer had seen so many states and got to travel for work, but was brought back to reality when she thought of the horrific things he’d face on the job.

This particular morning, was a day where Spencer was off on a case. He didn’t tell her about the case, sometimes he didn’t even tell her what state they were in. He liked to keep her as distanced from the job as possible. Sometimes, the news channel or other customers who gossiped about the news would give away where they might be.

“Have you heard about the missing women they found hidden in the basement in Arkansas?” an older, light haired woman asked Cate while she was fixing up her coffee.

“I haven’t heard.” Cate handed her the disposable cup. The woman lingered for a bit longer.

“The youngest one escaped, and then they arrested the guy at his job, acting like everything was normal!” she told Cate. Cate gave her a smile and looked at the next customer. The woman thankfully took the hint and left the cart, going about the rest of her day. When Spencer didn’t visit, it seemed like her shift took forever. She wasn’t sure when he’d get off his case, but he would usually send her a quick voice message when they landed safe.

Cate tried to keep Spencer out of her head as she finished her shift. She didn’t like imagining what graphic things he’d seen. She did however, like to imagine him in all his unique-ness. A nice patterned button-up, a cardigan or a sweater vest, his messy brown hair. It always seemed to be in his face, Cate wanted to reach out and tuck it behind his ear sometimes when he spoke, but didn’t want to overstep. She liked where they were as friends. She wouldn’t mind being more, she did want that. But, she liked having him as a friend. She enjoyed his presence in her life.

Before she knew it, her shift was over. She would’ve stopped to talk with Marta, but Marta had a line of customers waiting to be tended to. Knowing she could call Marta later, Cate opted to head home to relax and get housework done. She walked home, enjoying the nice breeze and warm air.

Upon entering her apartment, Cate was taking off her shoes when she heard the sound of water droplets. She paused, trying to find where it was coming from. She prayed that Shrimp hadn’t managed to turn the faucet on again. He had racked up quite the water bill one month. Cate walked quietly around her kitchen, looking for the source when the sink was dry.

Cate gave an exasperated scoff when she had walked into her living room and saw her ceiling dripping. A large rust colored wet spot grew on the white ceiling. She leapt into action when she saw it had made its way onto her bookshelf. Her recipe books were safe, the laminated pages kept her family recipes waterproof. Her favorite books, however, were sopping wet. She grabbed all seven of her Harry Potter books off the shelf, bringing them to her counter for safe keeping.

Her next mission was to find Shrimp, who despised water. Per usual, he was loafed under Cate’s bed, wide eyed. She shook a treat bag to coax him out. He stayed put. Frowning, Cate called down to maintenance to see what happened. After receiving some bad news, she called Marta to see if she could stay the night. Cate looked miserably at her favorite books on the counter. She called the only person she knew who might be able to fix this.

Spencer was still at the office, having just landed. He tidied up his desk and sorted through his messenger bag. He was talking with Emily and JJ when his phone rang loudly. He barely got the chance to greet Cate when he heard her voice.

“I need help because you know a lot about books and you’re smart and my books are in really bad shape because my apartment is raining, I really need your help.” Cate managed in one breath. He tried very hard to not correct her about how it was impossible that her apartment would be raining.

“I’m sorry could you repeat that a little slower?” Spencer walked away, trying to find a quieter place to listen to her more carefully.

“M-my favorite books got wet because my apartment ceiling is leaking and I need your help because I know you take good care of your books.” Cate was trying to not sound desperate, but she didn’t succeed.

“Of course,” Spencer gathered his messenger bag, sweater, and go bag. He gave Emily and JJ a wave as he made his way out. He was glad he had decided to drive to work today; he didn’t have to wait for a bus. “I’ll pick you up.” he said as he started his car. “I’ll call you when I’m out front.” he hung up and drove as fast, yet law-abiding, as he could to her apartment. He had already memorized where her building was in the image of Quantico that he could envision perfectly in his mind.

He pulled up at the front of her building and Cate was already waiting for him. She had a bag of books over one arm, a backpack on her back, and a cat carrier. He had never seen her look so sad. These books must be special, he thought to himself. She spotted Spencer’s car and started walking towards him. He got out of the car to open her door and take her backpack and books and put them in the backseat.

“I’m sorry I know I didn’t mention Shrimp, but I couldn’t leave him. Maintenance said the people upstairs somehow burst a pipe and now I can’t be there for a week while they do construction, ugh!” Cate rubbed her face with her hands. “I cannot believe this happened.” Spencer wasn’t sure what to say to make her feel better. He could list off the limited construction knowledge he had, but it didn’t seem right. “I’m sorry, I’m not insinuating that I’m moving in. I’m living with Marta for a bit. Can you tell me about books?” Cate looked over to him, and began sticking her fingers in Shrimp’s carrier.

“I keep my books at 68 degrees, which is the ideal temperature to store them to keep them in good condition. I control the climate in my apartment to ensure that my books stay in the best environment.” He continued to talk through the silence the whole way to his apartment. Cate followed him silently. He grabbed her backpack and book bag while Cate carried Shrimp. Spencer let Cate in first, closing the door behind them. He placed her backpack on the couch while he brought the other book bag into his study, where his bookshelf was. Cate put Shrimp’s carrier down on the living room.

“I brought a hair dryer too.” Cate told Spencer as she pulled her wet Harry Potter books out. “I know you might not be able to do anything, but I figured if anyone could try it would be you.” Cate looked at Spencer and he would do just about anything for her hopeful face. He tried not to linger his stare on her tear streaked cheeks.

He picked up the first book. He knew deep down that they were probably unsalvageable but he would try anything. They both did not speak as she carefully removed the dust covers off of them and laid them out on Spencer’s desk. He took the hair dryer and began blowing the pages.

“These were some of the first books I ever read on my own.” Cate confessed. She watched Spencer peel the pages apart with his long fingers. “These are my first copies that I actually read the series on for the first time.” Spencer saw her gaze on the books.

“It’s like they’re old friends.” He told her. “I get it.” She gave him a weak smile.

“Yeah.” She saw how concentrated Spencer was and she felt like there might be hope for her books. Spencer straightened up, looking back at Cate. “Thank you for helping me.” Cate told him. He put the dryer down and faced her, his hand propping him up against the desk.

“Anytime. I know that books can carry a lot of sentimental value.” He watched as her eyes flickered to his hands.

“It means a lot.” Cate placed a hand on top of his. Spencer felt his heart swell. She left the room to check on Shrimp in the living room. He tried to calm himself down before he went after her, so she wouldn’t see his blush.

Cate had opened Shrimp’s crate, reaching inside to pet him. His carrier was on the couch, Cate was kneeling in front of it, and Spencer had just walked through the doorway.

“So,” Spencer started as he knelt beside her. “Why’d you name him Shrimp?” Cate smiled, thinking back to when her cat was a kitten.

“He was so small when I first got him. Like a little orange shrimp.” Cate pulled her hand out of the crate, and Spencer reached in to pet Shrimp himself.

“Did you know that the biggest shrimp species can get up to eight inches? A kitten is a pretty accurate sizing comparison.”

Cate and Spencer spent the rest of the afternoon trying to save her books. Spencer did not want to admit that the series had been one of the few that he hadn’t picked up. After some time, Cate had asked if Spencer could drive her to Marta’s so she could let Shrimp roam around. When he returned to his apartment, he carefully picked up the first book and began to run his finger down the pages as he read the whole series in just under two hours.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #derek morgan #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia #aaron hotchner #sugar with a side of coffee fanfic

26 notes · View notes

clemanime · 4 years ago

Text

Cat and Mouse

A second installment of Burgundy Lipstick

can do part 2 with reader tommy older sister with luca, they finally have sex, but they realize they are falling in love with each other.

A/N: Hello. Sorry for taking forever to get this out. But I hope you enjoyed it and it’s to your liking. I appreciate the request.

WARNING: smut, yeah... smut, kinda sad?

“Are you finished throwing your fit Tommy?” She asked as she sat behind her desk, arms crossed.

“Am I finished.” Thomas sighed as he sighed, pushing his coat back to rest his hands on his hips. “You went to the Italian Y/n. And didn’t tell me.” He rubbed his face. “And you fucked him.”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “I’ll tell you the same thing I told John.” She stood up. “I am my own woman.”

“Betraying family because you want to be your own woman?” He pulled out a cigarette, lighting it up only for her to snatch it from his lips and break it in half.

“You know the deal Tommy.” She tossed the broken smoke into the bin and turned to face him. “No lighting up in my office.”

“Yeah.” He nodded slightly. “You may be older but I’m smarter Y/n. I own this entire thing a-”

“Because you own the business and run it doesn’t mean you’re the smartest man in the room Thomas.” She leaned against her desk with arms crossed. “My plan, if you’d hear it, is to get closer to Changretta. Convince him to leave so there’s no bloodshed on either sides.”

“Y/n...” Her brother sighed, pressing the tips of his index and middle finger against his temple. “Are you fucking crazy?”

“Just like you laying with Alfie?” She glared. “When you could kill the bastard and take everything from him. But you need him yeah.”

“This is not the same Y/n.” He stepped forward, piercing eyes trying to intimidate her as he spoke. “Go back to the Italian and I’ll kill ya myself.”

“You can’t kill me Thomas.” She stood up straight, grabbing her coat. “You may think the men here are running things... but the women are keeping shit together.” She turned to face him. “Men and their fragile egos.” She walked pass him, stopping at the door. “You have us working for you and supporting you Tommy. Me, Ada, Polly, Lizzie, Esme, that May woman... you even had Grace at your side.” She sighs when she see’s him stiffen. “Let me handle this. If it goes to shit then kill him.”

She walks out before he could respond, her eyes rolling when John and Arthur looked at her in confusion.

_________________________________

Luca stared at her, slowly sipping on the Bourbon that she had sent his way. She hadn’t looked at him, nor did she give him the time of day when the waiter informed her that he wanted her to join him. She wore her usual suit but her blazer was hanging on the back of her seat, hair at the base of her neck.

He took another sip before standing up and walking towards the exit. He started to put his coat and hat on, his eyes never leaving her. He noticed that she was drinking tea with a smug smirk on her lips. This was a dangerous game he was playing. A game of cat and mouse where he naturally assumed that he was the alley cat and she was the little mouse.

When Luca found himself in a dirty alleyway with the older Shelby sister’s body pressed against his own, he realized that the roles in his little game were reversed.

“For someone here to kill my family...” She started. “You let your guard down easy.”

“It’s not everyday a beautiful Dame pushes me into an alley.” Luca chuckled. “No Wine lips tonight? Was kinda lookin’ forward to it.”

“I bet.” She stepped back when he leaned in for a kiss. “Take me somewhere to talk.” She crossed her arms.

“Trying to get me to breeze off again?” Luca left the alley, walking down the side of the road with her following close behind.

The pair had reached Luca’s hotel room, him allowing her to go in before him so that he could speak with one of his men. She sat on his bed, legs crossed as she leaned back on her hands. She had the plan to snoop around but decided against it.

He entered the room, locking up as he looked over at her. “So are you going to... breeze off... was it?” She questioned.

“That depends Ms. Shelby.” He pulled off his coat. “What do you have to offer me?”

“Myself.” She shrugs her shoulders. “If that’s not enough you can fuck off and die.”

Luca chuckled and stopped in front of her, cupping her cheek as the pad of his thumb brushed against her bottom lip. She looked up at him, letting her mouth fall open and her tongue wet the tip of his thumb. She closed her mouth, watching his reaction as she started to slowly suck on his digit. “A woman willing to do anything for her family. Must have taken balls to stand up to Thomas Shelby.” She didn’t respond, swirling her tongue around his finger.

She stood up, grabbing Luca by his collar and pulling him in for a kiss. She pushes her hands in his hair, disturbing the strands. Luca pushed his tongue into her mouth, groaning against her lips. She moved one of her hands down his clothed body, stopping at the belt of his trousers and undoing it. She slowly pushed her hand in, massaging his hardened member. She pulled a groan from his parted lips, allowing her to control him. She turned them and pushed Luca down to sit on his bed. She got on her knees, eyes glancing up to see the anticipation and excitement on his face.

Without second thought, she ran her tongue along his base, containing a smirk when he shivered. “Fuck.” He cursed., encouraging her to continue. She press her thumb against his tip, slowly circling it as she released the rest of him from the restraint of his pants. Luca’s body jerked, eyes closing as his hand moved to her hair. She took him into her mouth, relaxing her throat and taking him in all the way.

His grip on her hair tightened as his hips bucked upward and into her mouth. She took in a deep breath, nodding once to signal that she was ready.

Luca held her head in place, adjusting himself before he started thrusting into her mouth. She moaned around him, eyes closing when he started to get a little rougher. She could feel him twitching the more he continued. “Like that baby.” He rasped, his thrusts already faltering. He stopped, allowing her to catch her breath. When he released her head, she looked up at him with lust filled eyes. An expression that told him she was ready for him.

She stood up, stripping for him as he worked on his own clothes. She pushed him down afterwards, climbing up his body and pressing her lips against his. Luca turned her over, kissing her as his hands roamed her body.

She gasped as he sank into her, biting her bottom lip. “Luca.” She moaned.

Without giving her a chance to adjust, he started thrusting his hips, forehead pressed against her shoulder as his hands gripped her hips or thighs. He groaned and panted in her eat as she took him in deeper.

He pulled out, turning her over and sinking into her sopping cunt. She trembled, back arched and eyes shut tight. “S-so..” She gasped. “Big.” He chuckled, pushing his hand deep into her hair and yanking it back as he roughly fucked her.

“You’re takin it well.” He huffed, giving her ass cheek a quick slap. “Sing for me Canary. Sing my name.” He put his hand on her lower back to deepen her arch. She tightened around him, moaning his name as if it were a prayer.

They both released at the same time, Luca pulling out. She laid on the bed, body still recovering. She could feel his large hands massaging her lower back after cleaning his release off of her. She felt comfortable, feeling as if she could fall asleep if he continued. “How do you feel?” Luca questioned, breaking the silence.

“Better.” She turned on her side to face him, covering herself up as she smiled. “Tommy would throw a fit.” She chuckled. Luca shaking his head as she laughed. His expression going from happy to serious.

“Do you want me to drift? Or is it Thomas?” Luca stopped touching her, his expression serious.

“Wh...” She sighs. “It’s not like you’re going to listen to me. Tommy will stop at nothing to keep his family safe. And I’d do the same.” She bites her bottom lip. “You’ll end up dead by the end of this and I won’t sit back to watch it.” Luca nodded, getting up and getting dressed. He started getting dressed, tossing her own clothes at her. “What are you doing?”

“We’re dusting out.” Luca didn’t look at her.

“Just like that?” She questions, feeling a growing pain in her chest.

“Get dressed.” He wouldn’t meet her eyes. As she put her clothes back on and fixed her hair the pain only grew. They both left the hotel room, Luca leading the way as she reluctantly trailed behind him.

Outside, she went to make her leave but Luca grabbed her wrist, stopping here. “Where you going?”

“Home.” She answered bitterly.

“You’re coming back with me.” He stated as the door to his automobile opened.

“L-”

“What’s all this then?” Thomas said as he walked up with John and Arthur next to him. “You’re leaving with him?” She looked between Luca and her brothers.

“Nah nah.” John said, stepping forward. “This Italian fuck can fuck right off.”

Luca let her go, pulling a toothpick out and placing it in his mouth. He stared Thomas down, looking at Y/n for a moment. “Anything to protect your family.”

“It’s not like that.” She blurted. “My brothers are idiots for following me.”

“You’d have been the idiot if we didn’t show up.” Arthur said, an unhinged expression on his face.

“I’m gone either way.” Luca said, looking from the brothers to Y/n. “You can come with me but if you stay you’ll never see me again.”

“Luca.” She turned to face him, grabbing his hand but he pulled it away.

“Don’t pretend it’s hard for you babe.” He cupped her cheek. “You got a strong family bond and I’m the enemy. So I’m making it easy for ya.” He took his hat off and placed it on her head. “If you love it let it go is what Ma always said.”

He got into his vehicle and it drove off before she could make a protest. “Look. It’s for the best yeah.” John started.

“For a moment.” She started, keeping her sadness in. “Just for a moment I wanted to feel like I wasn’t apart of the Peaky fucking Blinders.” She turned to face her brothers. “But I can’t escape the Shelby.” She walked pass them, Thomas grabbing her arm and pulling her in for a hug.

“Get in the car.” Tommy said to his brothers. With little resistance, they obeyed, getting into the car and waiting. “We pick the wrong people to fall in love with.” He rubbed her back as she started crying, gripping his coat. “Give it time yeah.”

“I’m not like you Thomas.” She sobbed into his chest. “I may be a Shelby but I’m still a woman! I’m still fragile!”

“You’re not fragile because you’re a woman.” He gave her a light squeeze. “Your fragile because you’re human. We’re both fucked in the head and we both fell in love. I don’t like the fucker. But he’d have been lucky to have you. Anyone would be lucky to have one of the Shelby woman beside them.”

#luca x reader #Luca Changretta #luca changretta x reader #luca changretta x reader smut #luca x reader smut #Smut #masterlist #main masterlist

130 notes · View notes

whothehellisyn · 5 years ago

Text

Cat and Mouse | Ch. 2

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Dark!Quentin Beck x Female Reader

Rating: 18+

Synopsis: You found out who Mysterio really is behind closed doors. You’re about to learn just how dangerous a man seeking revenge can be when you get in his way. He’s a predator on the hunt. And you’re the prey.

Warnings: explicit sex, unreality and use of illusions, restrained sex, dubcon, Dark!Mysterio, predator/prey sexual dynamics, (almost) choking,

It’s still dark all around you but you don’t stop running, not even to familiarize yourself with newest illusion. You just keep fucking running hoping to get some distance between you and Quentin Beck. You wonder if it’s pointless to try and hide, he can probably see you right now, waiting in the shadows for the perfect moment to pounce on you. You think you’re in the maze he showed in the display, but who knows anymore. Certainly not you. You’re turning endless corners, praying and hoping you don’t end up in a dead end. You can hear Quentin treading behind you, but you don’t know where or how far behind you he is.

It scares you to think he’s so capable of acting like a sweet and loving man and completely destroying your sense of reality moments later. You believed in Mysterio. In Quentin Beck. You cried when he retold the story of him losing his wife, his family. Of how powerless he felt to save them because of one unexpected final Elemental. You fucking cried of real sadness while he shed crocodile tears for a family that never existed in the first place.

It’s only been a few minutes but it feels like an eternity navigating this dumb fucking maze. You can’t see barely anything, let alone if you’re going the right way. So far you haven’t fucked up, and you take solace in that.

But then you hear it: multiple sets of footsteps. He’s using the illusion technology to find you. There could be dozens of Mysterios hunting you right now. You continue to navigate, listening hard for approaching steps as you run tiptoe. There are only two turns in the corridor you’re in and you pick the wrong one, falling into a body of water. What the hell even is this outside of the illusion? You swim around trying to find your way out and drink some along the way. It tastes clean, making you wonder if it’s a natural body of water or if it’s a pool of some sort. You realize the only way out is through the way you tumbled in and swim to it.

It’s hard to get to because of the depth of the water, but you manage to climb up into the maze again. You’re sopping wet, but hydrated and somewhat cleaner than before. Count your blessings, you suppose. Not a moment too soon are you so sure you’ve been punished for prematurely celebrating. It’s only seconds later when you feel him behind you.

“Found you.” Quentin says in a song-song tone, mere feet away. But just as he’s about to grab you, you dart into the other turn of the corridor, wet feet slapping against the ground. He’s close behind you, not quite running but not quite walking either. “I love a good chase!” He yells, with just a hint of exertion behind his tone. He’s working hard to keep up with you, clearly preferring hunting you down slowly to running up behind you now. You wonder if it’s part of his foreplay, if he needs to do this to get off.

And then it finally happens. You hit a dead end, and turn to see he’s blocking the only way out. Jesus fuck, Quentin is smiling like he’s about to devour you whole, with a gut-churning sexual glean in his eyes at the same time. You begin to cry, silently as he takes a step towards you. You back away, until you’re flat against the wall and then he’s right up against you. He leans in close to your face, and when you raise your hand up to strike him he grabs it tightly and turns you so your chest is against the wall, twisting your arm behind you. You squirm against his grip, but you’re just too weak to be able to get it loose.

“Now,” Quentin grunts, twisting your arm further to stop your squirming, “Good girls don’t have to be pliant. In fact, I don’t want you to be pliant. Not immediately of course.” You yelp in pain and he groans deeply, taking pleasure in your hurt. Quentin leans in close to you, forcing you to bear most of his weight. The armor presses into your wet clothes with an uncomfortable chill.

“I prefer this. You, fighting me. It makes it all the more worth it when I fuck it out of you every time.” A shiver rolls up your spine as his lips brush your ear as he adds, “And let me tell you, honey, I cannot wait to unravel you.”

You fight against him again with a more urgent panic, jerking around harder this time as adrenaline courses through you. You manage to get your arm loose from his grip and you elbow him in the ribs, hard. Quentin reels backwards in the pain but he’s also laughing, darkly and in no way cheerful. You run, you run and you don’t look back. You get three turns in when two mysterios grab you unexpectedly, and they take you forcefully by the wrists and pin you against the nearest wall. They’re twice as strong as Quentin is, though not nearly as dangerous. You swallow hard as he appears in front of you, not seeming too angry at the fact you tried to crack his ribs. You realize now that the elbowing has probably only encouraged him.

“That was fun.” He smirks, rubbing the spot where you had gotten him. “But now it’s my turn.”

Quentin takes this moment to look at you, scared and disheveled, before your shirt is torn away along with your bra, and you’re left topless and defenseless in front of him. He’s rubbing his cock through his suit, eyes dark with lust at your state. A lion appreciating its kill.

You let out a defeated and humiliated little sob as the two mysterios lift you higher against the wall by your wrists and your biceps so Quentin can tear your pants off, leaving you in your underwear. Your crotch is face level to him now, the two mysterios hovering as they keep you restrained. He pushes his face into your panties, and inhales your scent with a dark groan. It’s humiliating, and yet it feels titillating all the same.

Having had enough of smelling you, he pulls your underwear to the side unceremoniously to push his face in further, licking into you. You try to close your legs to stop him but his clones grab each of your knees and force them apart, and when you squirm more Quentin licks deeper and harder, clearly more turned on the more you resist.

“Please, stop...” You cry, unable to get away from his mouth. Your vocal protests do the same to egg him on and you realize this is a situation where you can’t win but you just. Can’t. Stop. Fighting. You haven’t stopped fighting against the mysterios, and they’re so much stronger than you, and you’re still weak from the running. But you don’t want to give up. Even when you can feel your body acclimating to Quentin’s mouth, your entire being softening to feel what’s being done to you. Your own body, betraying your terror. You think he knows it, too. He works harder and swirls his tongue around your clit, wanting to you to climax, needing you to climax.

You can’t stop fighting because you know part of you lies this. Even with how much you’d have preferred never knowing Quentin this way, of wanting to go back to when he would just take you to dinner in whatever country you were in, he feels good working his tongue on you. You’re horrified of who he really is, but part of you is drawn to him still. You’re disgusted by it. You hope it’s some sort of sick survival instinct and not just you. You hope.

You can feel yourself getting close to orgasm, reluctantly but all the same. You know you’d be enjoying this if it weren’t in the depths of his illusions, if you were back in his hotel room. If you were being eaten out like a fucking human being instead of a sexual meal for a dangerous predator. If Quentin Beck was really Mysterio.

He fucks you with his tongue as you climax, hard. He doesn’t stop until your legs are shaking and you’re whimpering and thrashing against him from overstimulation, and only because he can’t wait to finish off himself.

He waves his hand and you’re lowered enough that he can reach you, grab your hips and have the Mysterios support your legs for him. He starts fingering you, and though he starts with only one finger he’s clearly impatient to fuck you and it’s not long before he’s using two and three to stretch you to take his cock. You feel shame at the slickness he’s able to use from your own body and the sounds as he pumps in and out of you, but there’s nothing you can do about it now.

The entire time he touches you he’s grinning, and humming to himself triumphantly. You’re a conquest to him. A prize he has taken or a piece of meat he’s appreciating. He uses his thumb to circle your clit, still sensitive, and you let out a overstimulated whine in response.

“God,” Quentin groans, fingering you faster, “I hope you sound like that when I’m inside you.” You cum again, shaking harder with it being so soon after the first orgasm. He starts pulling off parts of his suit, getting his cock out and rolling on a condom. At least he’s not trying to get your pregnant, you think. He’s hard already, and though you try not to look you realize he’s on the bigger side and if you don’t relax right the fuck now you’re going to get hurt. No matter how fucked up this is you’re going to have to take it, no matter how fucked up you are for wanting to take it.

“I can’t wait until you’re begging for my cock, honey.” He says, rubbing the head of his dick on your clit, against your vagina. “Until I own you and you don’t want anything else besides me.”

“Quentin please don’t, please—“ You try to beg, despite knowing its likely useless. He pushes inside you and doesn’t stop until he’s buried his cock to the base and he lets out a deep moan, dropping his head against your shoulder. A human at last. You let out a gasp, in shock from the sudden change in pressure inside you. The stretch makes you ache, the warmth inside you unpleasantly comfortable and betraying the atmosphere. It breaks you a little, knowing what you must look like. Getting fucked by a fake superhero in a fake, dark maze while his fake clones hold you up for him. The only thing real right now is your two bodies, pressed together. Reality at last.

He sets a quick and unforgiving pace, fucking you hard into the wall behind you. The grit digs into your back uncomfortable and you fight against him again in protest. Quentin isn’t having it, and he grabs your throat in response to force you to look at him.

“Tell me you’re a good girl.” He says, hips snapping into you. “Tell me who you belong to.” He squeezes your throat as a threat to say the right answer and a tear threatens to fall on your cheek with the shake.

“I’m your good girl Quentin.” You whimper, body strung out and breaking. “I’m yours.”

He moans again, louder. “That’s right. You’re fucking mine now.” He fucks you even harder, clearly chasing his own release supplied by your words.

“I’m going to break you until you’re nothing but fucking putty in my hands. Understand?” He’s close, you can tell. He’s trying hard to get just the right rhythm to cum. He reaches for your breasts and pinches one of your nipples to get you to answer.

“Yes, sir.” You yelp, twitching and arching away from the pain. It puts him over his limit and he cums with a guttural groan, stilling deep inside you. He just sits there for a minute, breathing heavily and you can feel his cock idling inside you. It’s a horrible and primal feeling, one of being marked and being used.

When he regains his composure minutes later, he slides out of you and the Mysterios drop you to the ground without ceremony. Once Quentin gets tucked back into his suit, he picks you up onto your feet. You feel so disgusting as he strokes your cheek sweetly, and smiles, “Yeah, that’s a good girl.”

While you stand there, arms crossed to shield your chest and shoulders haunched to protect yourself, you watch him change into the Mysterio character, just like that. He smiles at you sweetly, and your soul twinges at its near genuineness, aching for comfort after this ordeal. He claps his hands cheerfully, and puts an arm around you like he didn’t just obliterate your sense of reality and fuck you in a digital maze.

“Let’s go get dinner, shall we?”

—————

And that’s chapter 2! This is as far as I had saved up on my computer. Please by all means send me concrit and how you feel about this writing! I really only get the writing bug when I’m extremely tired so my sentence structure is quite poor, but rest assured I’ll edit tomorrow when I’m more awake.

#quentin beck x reader #mysterio x reader #nsft #cat and mouse

61 notes · View notes

threnodygrimblood · 5 years ago

Text

The Family that Shouldn’t Be

Summary: With Muriel and Eustace dead, Courage finds himself all alone at the farmhouse. Fortunately or unfortunately for Courage, the villains he faced in the past begins to make themselves at home at the farmhouse, bringing with them much fun and mayhem the small pink dog can handle.

Rated T for just in case

It seems that every time I write a chapter, I expect it to be short only to find it longer than expected. This chapter was going to be a Valentine's chapter initially, but since I couldn't come up with an idea to introduce the Black Puddle Queen, I decided to rearrange some chapters around. I plan on writing a Christmas chapter. . . *looks at calendar*, which means I'll have to hold off on writing a chapter for Keeping Secrets for the time being so I can get the Christmas chapter written on time as I don't want a repeat of the Halloween chapter.

I also kept wanting to refer the Black Puddle Queen as the Black Widow Queen. I blame the spider for it. I also feel bad that I didn't give the Black Puddle Queen many speaking lines nor interaction with the others. I'll have to make that up in the next chapter.

All Courage the Cowardly Dog characters belong to John Dilworth.

The Queen Who Saves Courage From Love

֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍

"Oooh yeaah. That feels goooood, Pup." Cajun murmured.

It was shedding season for the furry occupants in the farmhouse, which was evident when fur of various colors began coating the floors. Le Quack and the Clutching Foot were out of the house; Courage had told them about the time he dug up the bones of a giant kangaroo monster, and how valuable they were. So, the two had headed off into the desert to dig up more bones to sell. Of course, those who remained at the house were sure that if they couldn't find any, then Le Quack being the con artist he is, will attempt to sell any regular bones they find out there.

Courage had found Cajun sitting on the front porch, struggling to reach his back with the brush. Understanding the strain of trying to brush his own back, Courage offered to brush the fur on Cajun's back for him. Courage would stop every now and then to pick out the clumps of hair from the brush's teeth and tried not to feel envious that Cajun's shed fur didn't come out loose as his did.

"Done." Courage announced once he was sure he got out all the tangles and knots, and there was no more loose fur.

"Thanks, Pup!" Cajun said and turned around to face the dog. "Let me brush your back for ya."

It's been a while since Courage had a proper brushing and wasn't about to turn it down himself. Turning, Courage waited for Cajun to begin. Once the fox did, Courage couldn't help but sigh as the brush went down his back in a slow, soothing motion that he couldn't help wagging his tail. Courage heard Cajun chuckle, but Courage didn't care, and he didn't care that a tangle got snagged as Cajun brushed it out.

"And you're done, Pup!" Cajun reported.

"Thanks, Cajun." Courage said. He was a little sad it ended, but he was also glad because his legs were starting to fall asleep, and Courage hated the sensation he gets when it happens.

Together, the two picked out the pink hair from the brush, and Cajun, in his cleverness, clumped the pink together to make a miniature Courage. Courage couldn't help giggle at Cajun's eccentric behavior. The little dog picked up the brush and headed inside as Cajun went to toss the fur that didn't get blown away by the breeze in the trash can out back.

Courage walked over to Katz sitting in the armchair, reading a new book, and asked, "Katz? Do you want me to brush your back for you?"

Ever since the incident with the spirit Big Toe and his goons brought, Katz had gotten moody. Well, a lot moodier than usual. Especially when Courage and Cajun were hanging out together, and Courage couldn't understand why it was since Katz wouldn't talk about it. Courage hoped that offering to brush the feline will ease his mood.

Katz studied Courage for a moment, turned back to his book, and said, "No, thank you. I can manage on my own."

"Are you sure?" Courage pushed.

"Yes, Courage. I'm sure." Katz said, his tail twitching in agitation.

"Okay." Courage said, feeling dejected.

Courage headed into the kitchen, where he found Cajun drinking water from a glass.

"Why so glum, Pup?" Cajun asked, concerned.

"I offered to brush Katz, but he turned it down." Courage explained.

Cajun snorted. "Ya have a better chance at brushing Le Quack than brushing the kitty."

It was a good thing Le Quack was there, or else he would've smacked Cajun with his mallet.

"What about Weremole?" Courage asked.

"When I mentioned havin' his fur brushed, he bolted for the hole he made in the ground. Probably doesn't want his fur harvested." Cajun answered.

Courage could see Weremole's reasoning when it came to his fur. After all, it's the antidote for when he bites someone and turns them into a weremole.

Cajun set his empty glass in the sink and announced, "Now that my fur is free of loose hair, I don't have to worry about clogging the drain. See you in an hour or two, Pup."

Cajun left Courage alone in the kitchen, and the dog let out a sigh. His thoughts keep returning to Katz, and Courage wished he knew why Katz was acting the way he was and that he could find a way to help him. Every time Courage asked about it, Katz would avoid the question or simply say he was fine, but Courage knew he wasn't. Courage wanted to cheer Katz up and wished he knew the cat's favorite food was, but he was evasive about it when he asked. Courage could make happy plums, and he was glad he got the ingredients to make it. But it would take time to make it so for now; Courage decided to make a pot of Katz's favorite tea and bring it to him before starting on the happy plums.

Courage had a pot of tea steeped the way Katz liked it on a tray along with a teacup, a bowl of sugar, and a little pitcher of milk. He took one look at the tray and decided that it could use a plate of cookies as well. Courage wished he had time to bake the cookies for Katz and hoped he would be okay with store-bought cookies instead. Courage pushed one of the chairs over to the sink and stacked pots on top of the chair to reach the top cupboard where the cookies are.

As he stood precariously on the cooking pots and hoping they don't go toppling over, Courage wished that Cajun placed the baked goods closer to the ground where he could reach them. After getting the cookies, Courage carefully climbed down his dog-made ladder, took one step for the table, and stopped.

There sitting at the table drinking Katz' tea was a human. "Mmm, this is delicious." the human said.

"Who are you?" Courage finally asked once he found his voice.

The human turned and looked in Courage's direction. "I'm the God of Love, Eros," he answered and took another sip of the tea.

Courage blinked as he stared at the human claiming to be a god, and he could see that his curly hair was the color of gold, he wore a white toga much like the Storm Goddess, and Goose God did. White feathery wings fluttered occasionally, a sling hung across his back, and a golden bow leaned against the table. Yes, Courage could see how this could be Eros.

"Ah, what are you doing here?" Courage asked as the familiar anxiety inside him began to rise in him.

"Someone asked me to do them a favor," Eros answered as he took hold of his bow.

Courage's heart began to thump hard against his ribcage, and the cookies were getting crushed between his paws. "Wh-what favor?" he stuttered.

"Oh, it involves you," Eros said as he notched an arrow. "Now hold still. I promise this won't hurt at all."

That had to be the first time someone told Courage that being shot with something pointy wasn't going to hurt, and he may have believed the God of Love if fear and instinct didn't run amok in the dog. As Eros let the arrow loose, Courage cried out in surprise and held up the cookie package as a shield. Amazingly, the packaging stopped the arrow from hitting Courage, while Eros himself stood surprised by it, Courage tossed the box aside, it hit one of the pots, causing them all to topple over with a loud crash, and made a dash for the kitchen door.

Courage heard Eros muttering as he pushed the door open, and he was sure the God was getting ready to notch another arrow. Courage hurried through the dining room, and he realized his mistake when he saw Katz halfway across the living room with a look of worry on his face.

"Courage? What is-" Katz was interrupted when an arrow sailed through the air and hit Katz in the chest.

Courage gasped in horror as Katz fell back, and he ran over to the cat. "Katz!" Courage screamed in fear.

Courage pulled the arrow out and searched for a wound and was relieved to find none. "Katz! Are you all right?" he asked once he turned his attention back to the feline.

Katz turned his head towards Courage and stared at him. Courage grew worried again and was about to ask another question when the feline pulled the canine into a hug and did something Courage never thought the cat would ever do to him or anyone else. Katz kissed him. Katz had kissed Courage and was now purring and nuzzling him!

Courage was so flabbergasted by his predicament; he nearly forgot the reason he was running in the first place.

"I guess this works out," Eros said as he walked into the room. "Now, be a good puppy and let me shoot you."

Courage couldn't get away anyway, plus Katz's hold on Courage had tightened as the cat hissed at Eros. Eros ignored the cat as he drew the drawstring on his bow back. It wavered about as Eros tried to find an opening to shoot Courage.

Frustrated at the cat's attempts to shield Courage, Eros said to the dog, "Can you please tell the cat to release you so I can use this arrow on you?"

Courage, of course, screamed again in terror at the thought of being shot. Cajun sopping wet, with a towel around his waist, came tromping down the stairs. The fox had forgotten his sunglasses in his haste to see what had Courage screaming in terror.

"Pup! What's the matter?!" He hollered.

Caught unguard, Eros turned towards the newcomer just as he released his hold on the drawstring. The arrow lodged into Cajun's chest, causing him to tumble down the stairs, landing in a heap near the grandfather clock. Courage winced when he heard Cajun's fall and managing to free himself from Katz's embrace somehow, hurried over to Cajun to see if he was alright.

"Cajun!" Courage howled soon realized he made a huge mistake as he kneeled next to the fox.

Cajun looked up at Courage stunned and, much like Katz did, pulled the dog into his grasp but licked his muzzle instead. Courage was aghast at what was transpiring, especially when Katz tried pulling him out of Cajun's arms with a snarl.

"Oops. I didn't expect this to happen," Eros sheepishly said as he scratched his head at what he did. "Thinking about it now, I should've just poked you with the arrow instead."

"Can you fix this?" gasped Courage as Cajun and Katz squeezed the air out his lungs from fighting over him.

"Sorry, but I'm needed elsewhere," Eros answered suddenly. "But don't worry, the effect of the arrows will wear off at midnight tonight. So good luck with those two. You'll certainly need it."

And with that, Eros was gone. Out the front door, that is. Courage howled in exasperation at the same time Cajun yelped when Katz poked him in the eyes. Katz cradled Courage in his arms and gave him another affectionate nuzzle. Courage let out a sigh. It was barely noon, and it was still many hours until midnight before Katz and Cajun returned to their old selves. He was sure he could find a way to handle the love-stricken cat and fox. How hard could it be?

֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍

"Courage is mine!" Katz growled.

"No, Pup belongs to me!" Cajun snarled.

"I love him!" Katz snapped.

"I love him more than you!" Cajun barked back.

Courage learned sooner than later that having to deal with two people struck by Cupid's arrows and falling in love with him was harder than he thought. Katz and Cajun had begun their bickering over Courage that the dog was worried that they would start a painful game of tug-of-war with him. They instead released their hold on Courage and began grappling over him. They were rolling on the floor when Le Quack and the Clutching Foot returned from their expedition.

They stood rooted to their spot, watching the unusual event happening before them. Big Toe and the other four toes began making bets on what was going on at the same time Le Quack asked, "Qu'est-ce que ç'est?"

Courage decided to take that opportunity to make a run for it, leaving the two very confused. Courage's chest heaved as he panted for air while pressed against the back of the house.

Courage's eyes caught sight of one of the holes Weremole made and thinking that it would make an excellent temporary hiding place, he scrambled towards it. Courage's back feet kicked up sand and dirt as he squirmed his way into the tunnel. Courage crawled through the maze of tunnels Weremole had made. He took a right and stopped when he came nose to nose to a snarling Weremole.

"So-sorry for disturbing you, Weremole." Courage stammered as he backed up. "I'm also sorry for coming into your home, but I'm trying to hide from Cajun and Katz."

"Grrr?" Weremole asked.

"They've gotten hit by love arrows, and I made the mistake of being in their sight when it took effect. So now they're both in love with me." Courage explained.

Weremole seemed to understand Courage's predicament and didn't say anything else about the dog being in his burrow. And Courage's reprieve didn't last long when dirt began raining down on top of him.

"Pup!" Courage heard Cajun's voice say behind him.

With a yelp, Courage crawled through the tunnels, not only forgetting that being a fox Cajun has a keen sense of smell but also was a burrowing animal as well. Behind Courage, he heard Weremole followed by a yelp from Cajun as the fox encountered the feral animal. Courage scampered up what he believed to be another way out of Weremole's home and had popped his way out, and his heart just about stopped when someone pulled him the rest of the way out the hole.

"Courage." purred Katz as he drew the dog into a hug.

Courage couldn't deny that the hug felt nice when it wasn't the two of them trying to pull him out of each other's arms. The gentle tender hug was short-lived when an orange paw shot out of the ground in reminiscence of a zombie coming out the sand that Courage screamed hysterically. The rest of Cajun popped out the field, and he shook to clear the sand from his fur and coughed. Weremole gnawed on one of Cajun's legs

"Pup? Why did ya run from me?" Cajun asked, and the hurt tone in his voice made Courage feel guilty.

"Because he has no interest in a mangy backwater fox like you," Katz answered for Courage.

Courage, of course, denied such a thing but couldn't even tell Cajun this as the fox stated, "I'll show ya what a mangy backwater fox can do!"

Both Courage and Weremole were flung through the air as Cajun tackled Katz to the ground.

"Oof! Courage cried out as he landed on his rump as Weremole landed on his back.

Weremole got to his feet and launched himself at the cat and fox. Courage didn't know what to do. Should he help them? If so, who would he help first? Certainly not Weremole, he was doing fine on his own. So that left Cajun and Katz, and he knew that he helped one, then the other would either be heartbroken or worse: try to kill his rival.

Courage jumped when he heard "Puppy dog." behind him.

Turning around revealed Le Quack. The duck watched the fight taking place as yips, growls, and curses rend the air.

"What is wrong with those two? Have they been afflicted with some, how do you say, brain injury?" Le Quack inquired as the Clutching Foot joined them.

Courage recounted to the two of how Cupid, Courage had said Eros' name, but since the Big Toe and his lackeys didn't know his actual name Courage had to use Eros' most common name, had shot Katz and Cajun with his arrows. How they both fell in love with him because he was the one they saw when the arrows took effect.

The Clutching Foot was disappointed that none of them got their bets right. Le Quack made a mistake to laugh at Courage's unfortunate predicament. Two shadows fell upon them and ending Le Quack's laugh as he looked up into the enraged faces of the fox and cat.

"Did you just laugh at Courage?" Katz asked with deadly calm.

The Clutching Foot knew trouble when he was saw and hopped away as swiftly as he could. Courage felt sorry for what was going to happen to Le Quack, but he also saw this as an opportunity to try and hide.

After turning their fury on poor Le Quack, Courage had run upstairs towards his bedroom and dove under the bed. He knew it was nothing more than a temporary haven. Time ticked by as Courage sweated, waiting for either of Katz or Cajun to show up. His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten anything since breakfast, and a small whine rumbled out his throat. Courage yelped when his legs grabbed, and while being dragged out, he dug his nails into the floorboards, leaving long grooves behind.

Once again, Courage was heft up from the ground and came face to face with Katz.

"What were you doing under there Courage?" Katz inquired, and before Courage could answer, his stomach growled again. Katz chuckled.

"Let's get something to eat," Katz suggested.

The cat carried Courage in his arms, and the dog couldn't think of anything to say as Katz headed down the stairs.

Katz placed Courage in a chair and patted him on the head before looking to see what was available for a meal. Katz paused when he spotted the pots on the scattered on the floor.

"Why are all these on the floor?" Katz questioned.

Courage had utterly forgotten about those! Scared of how Katz would react, Courage answered, "I made you some tea and thinking you would like some cookies I decided to use the pots to get them from one of the top cabinets because it's so high up and I'm small. I accidentally knocked them over. I'm sorry!"

"You made me tea?" Katz inquired, and looking at the table, saw the tray and teapot Courage had left there.

"I wanted to cheer you up and thought making your favorite tea for you would do the trick." Courage said as he blushed.

Courage didn't expect Katz to caress his face, and it certainly gave him an odd feeling in his stomach. "You're so sweet, Courage." Katz cooed and smiled at the small pink dog. "You sit there, and I'll put the pots away and get something for you to eat."

Courage watched Katz clean up the kitchen, took one look at the crushed box of cookies, declared it was no longer edible, and threw it away. Courage was shocked by that. Katz always had an issue about anyone wasting food, and here he was doing just that. The arrow truly messed him up.

Now Courage stared at the plate of cookies Katz had placed before him along with a glass of milk while Katz sat nearby, paws tucked under his chin as he watched Courage with his tail swishing side to side.

Courage could count on one hand the number of tense meals he had. He chose a cookie from the plate and took a bite. His mouth felt as dry as the desert outside as he chewed and hoped he didn't choke when he swallows. Courage did choke, but it wasn't because of the cookies nor from Katz never taking his eyes off the dog. It was simply because Cajun kicked the door in, startling Courage. It would've been terrifying if the door hadn't swung back and smacked into Cajun, causing the fox to let out a bark of pain.

Cajun pushed the door open more gently this time, and he walked in, rubbing his nose. The hostility Courage could feel from Cajun and Katz glaring at each other increased the tension so much that Courage wanted to get away as quick as possible. He shifted in his chair and made the best impression of a deer caught in headlights when the fox and cat turned their attention to him.

Cajun noticed the cookies on the table and said, "Oh, are you hungry, Pup? Let me cook you something."

He headed for the fridge when Katz stood up from his seat and said, "I was going to make something for him."

Katz and Cajun shoved at each other as they grabbed for ingredients for whatever it was they planned to cook for Courage. As Courage slowly and quietly got down from the chair, he began to start hating himself for continually running away as he quickly slipped out the backdoor and once again ran for it.

Courage stopped in the kitchen as he panted with his tongue lolling out. He was exhausted. His legs were tired and cramping. Courage desperately wanted to sit and rest, but he couldn't allow himself that. Not while Katz and Cajun were on the hunt for him.

He tried finding new places to hide, but Katz and Cajun always found him. Courage had wondered where the last three remaining villains were and learned that Weremole had grown bored of using Cajun and Katz as a chew toy and retreated into his lair. The Clutching Foot was hiding out in the basement, which left Le Quack's whereabouts unknown. Probably off somewhere licking his wounds.

Courage looked around the kitchen; it looked like a warzone. Katz or Cajun left the faucet on, and water flowed over the basin, leaving a giant growing puddle. Vegetables and fruit were thrown so forcefully the stuck to the wall and eggs dripped from the ceiling. There was an enormous head-shaped dent in the fridge door, and knives of different sizes embedded in the wall, table, and the kitchen door. Something charred, smoking, and inedible were all that remained in one of the pans on the stove. Courage cocked his head and listened for either cat or fox. Not hearing either nearby, he was sure he still had time before they discovered his current location, Courage walked around the puddle as he made his way over to the sink, hopped up and turned the water off. Courage jumped clear of the pool and tried to think of something, anything. He needed a new place to hide. Katz and Cajun found his hiding spots much too quickly. He gazed out at the miles of desert and promptly shook his head. Not only would Courage not be able to find suitable shelter out there, but he would need to bring provisions and something warm with him to last him until midnight.

Of course, he didn't have to attempt to survive in the desert. Courage could head to Shirley's wagon and hide there. But even then, he knew if he did that, she would possibly place a curse on the fox and cat, and that was something Courage didn't want for Katz and Cajun. He couldn't fault them on the way they were behaving. He could take the truck and hide in town. But they would hear the truck and find some way to follow him into town. And even if the people in town were able to mask his scent, they would tear the city apart looking for him.

Whoever asked Eros this favor no doubt knew what they were doing if they intended to get rid of Courage. Courage didn't want to think it, but he was sure the effect on Katz and Cajun were getting worse with their maddening desire to claim him as their lover. And he feared that one or both would kill each other or kill him if they couldn't have him for themselves.

Courage wanted to let out a howl of frustration but dare not lest he disclosed his location to the other two. As Courage racked his brain for a solution, he wasn't aware of the tall, beautiful woman emerging from the pool of water behind him. He heard not a sound as she raised her arms clad in black from the puddle. If Courage was aware of the newcomer, it was too late. A hand clamped his muzzle shut, the other hand wrapped around his chest, and back into the pool, she went, taking Courage with her.

֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍

"Where is he?" Katz growled as he stalked the grounds. He wasn't thrilled that the fox was also looking for Courage as well, but at least he wasn't with him now.

They searched everywhere they could think of where Courage could hide in like the chimney. The fox and cat checked all of Courage's hiding spots again, all except Weremole's den, Cajun didn't want to incur the feral mole's wrath again. Growling again, Katz approached the kitchen door. Inside, he paused when he spotted Cajun roaming the room.

Katz's eyes narrowed as he watched the fox. "What are you doing?"

"Pup's scent is the strongest here," Cajun explained.

Katz sniffed the air then made a face. He was amazed the fox could pick Courage's scent through such a repugnant smell permeating the air.

"Pup was here in the kitchen, and that's it. I get nothin' near either door. It's like he vanished in thin air." Cajun continued.

Katz scoffed. How stupid can the fox be? "That's preposterous. Someone can't vanish into thin air." he voiced.

As if on cue, they both jumped when they heard Courage screaming in terror. Fear for what could be happening to the dog and hot anger for whoever is causing those screams had both Katz and Cajun racing out the back door following the shout to the back of the barn. They ran around the end of the massive structure merely to skid to a stop when what they across was not Courage. Still, a stereo with a speaker belting out a recording of Courage screaming and next to it was a small pile of bombs with a timer attached to one already counting down. They barely had time to react when the timer reached zero, followed by the bombs going off in a massive and loud explosion.

֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍

Let's take a moment to change locations and divulge where Courage is. Courage's current situation was that of a tropical paradise. Leaves from palm trees fluttered in the gentle salty breeze, and a quaint little resort settled further up the beach. The beach itself was clean and warm, and it was here that Courage laid in a lounge chair looking at the sea. The water hitting the surf and seagulls calling was quite relaxing. But not by much.

"Why am I here?" Courage wondered aloud.

"The Black Puddle Queen brought you here to keep you safe." Le Quack answered as he walked up to the lounging dog.

Courage next asked, "Why are you here?"

"The Black Puddle Queen thought it would be best that you had someone to keep you company. Drink?" he offered the coconut cup he held in one of his wings to Courage.

Courage thanked Le Quack and took the drink from him. Le Quack jumped into the other lounge chair next to Courage's and took a sip from his straw.

"But why are you here?" Courage asked again.

"Would you rather have Big Toe or Weremole here?" Le Quack asked himself.

Courage knew for sure that if Big Toe were here, he would be trying to rob the tourists and the resort and ff Weremole were here, he would either dig tunnels everywhere or try to eat the people here.

"Not really." Courage answered.

"There you go." Le Quack retorted.

Le Quack drank more of his drink while Courage just stared down at his. He was grateful the Black Puddle Queen helped him get away from Katz and Cajun and hoped that they would be alright. After all, he can't fault them for their behavior. But still, Courage's paranoia continued to run rampant as he expected to see a plane appear in the sky or a submarine to surface in the ocean. Courage was amazed his fur hadn't started falling out from the whole ordeal. He sighed and took another drink.

Le Quack noticed and asked, "What is on your mind, Puppy dog?"

"I'm worried about Katz and Cajun," he answered.

"How so?" Le Quack asked.

"I expect to see Katz and Cajun showing up even though I know they don't have a clue where I am. I also don't want them to kill each other over me."

"They'll be fine." Le Quack reassured Courage, paused, then added. "Maybe."

"Maybe?" Courage inquired. Le Quack just cackled in response, which caused dread to settle in Courage's stomach. "What did you do?" he pushed.

"I did not appreciate them beating me up, so I left them a little present." Le Quack answered

"What present?" Courage asked.

"Nothing too terrible, just a few bombs rigged to a timer." Le Quack told the dog.

"Bombs?!" Courage yelped.

"Don't worry your fluffy little head off; the explosion won't kill them. Hopefully. It should be a lesson to them that Le Quack always gets the last laugh." Le Quack stated.

As the duck began laughing his diabolical laugh, Courage added this new information to his list of things to stress over. He prayed that Katz and Cajun were doing fine.

֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍

"You both were acting like Courage was in heat the way the two of you were chasing after him and attacking each other." a blush coloring the Black Puddle Queen's cheeks as she spoke those words. "You both became a danger to him, and to save him, I took him somewhere safe."

It was a little past midnight when the Black Puddle Queen talked to the two then left through the bucket of water that was in the living room. Now it was creeping up on one in the morning as Katz sat in the armchair, and his body racked with pain as he pressed an icepack to his eye. Katz had bandages wrapped around his wrist and hand holding the icepack, around his forehead and wounding about his left ear, and his chest. The gauzy material was also around the quarter end of his tail and both his legs.

"Why am I the only one with the cone?" Cajun complained.

"Will you desist your persistent whining?" Katz inquired. He slowly turned his head to the fox sitting in the rocking chair next to him. Cajun's whole body seemingly encased in a cast with a cone securely around his head.

"I'm only whinin' 'cuz I'm the only one wearing this cone," Cajun said.

"You are more injured than me," Katz answered.

"I wouldn't be if someone hadn't used me as a shield," Cajun growled.

It felt like a headache beginning to blossom in Katz's head, and he slowly rubbed his temple to ease it.

"Please do shut up before I turn your cone into a fishbowl." Katz sighed.

"Turn it into a martini cup, and I'll drown happily." Cajun chirped.

Katz's lips twitched as he tried not to smile at Cajun's remark. The two were silent for a while more before Cajun asked, "When is Queenie gonna bring Pup back?"

"In a day or two. She thinks Courage should relax a bit before returning home." Katz answered.

Katz and Cajun were alone in the living room. The Weremole was in his home underground, the Clutching Foot retired to the basement soon after finishing their story, and the Black Puddle Queen went to check on Le Quack and Courage at wherever it is she put them. She still wouldn't disclose their location to them. "Just in case." was her reasoning.

"I don't blame her for thinking Pup needs to be away. The Pup must've been freaking out by our behavior the whole time." Cajun stated.

"Yes." Katz agreed with a heavy heart. The explosion had thrown them quite a distance and knocked the two out for several hours. When they came to, Weremole and the Clutching Foot was helping the Black Puddle Queen tend to their injuries and barely being able to move were confided to the chairs. It was around this time the arrows' effect wore off, and neither Katz nor Cajun could remember any of their actions; it was akin to being in a drunken stupor, minus the hangover. But after seeing the state of the house of the living room and being told what the grounds looked like, they knew it wasn't good. They were both equally horrified by how they were acting when the Clutching Foot, Weremole, and the Black Puddle Queen recounted what took place. How did the Black Puddle Queen know what was transpiring? She was watching what was happening through any open water on the farm accessible from her realm.

For Katz, it was bad enough that he has to compete against Cajun for the dog's love without the help of Cupid's arrows, but to fight over Courage like he was some prize to be won while under the influence of the arrow. . .it made the cat physically ill. The cat felt so downtrodden over the whole thing that he was ready to concede to the fox.

"The sucky part of the whole thing is that I don't romantically like Pup." moaned Cajun.

"What?" Katz perked up, and his heart skipped a beat at the fox's words.

"I said I ain't interested in Pup in that way," Cajun clarified.

"But you're so nice to him all the time," Katz stated.

"Just cuz I'm nice doesn't mean I love 'im," Cajun affirmed.

"You're not nice to me." Katz pointed out.

"Hard put bein' nice to someone who constantly tries to cave my head in or tries to disembowel me." Cajun retorted with a growl.

"Touché," Katz said.

"Now that ya know I ain't interested in Pup, ya can pursue him romantically," Cajun told the cat.

"Wh-what?" Katz stammered.

"Have you become hard of hearin' suddenly? I said you can try your paw at startin' a relationship with Pup." Cajun reiterated.

"What makes you think I. . . love Courage?" Katz pressed.

"Well, for starters, ya stopped callin' him 'dog' and started callin' him by his name. Secondly, winnin' that fish plushie at the County fair is somethin' someone would do for the one they love and thirdly, the way ya hesitated when ya used the word 'love.' Now I ain't a genius, but I ain't stupid neither, and I can see that ya love Pup." Cajun explained.

If Katz's fur weren't already a shade of scarlet, he certainly would be that color right now. He thought he hid his feelings for the dog so well.

"Am I that transparent?" Katz questioned.

"Possibly," Cajun answered. "I always thought you hated all dogs."

"I do," Katz confirmed. There is one such dog that will always fill him with hatred whenever he thinks of him. "I'll admit that I hated Courage for continually thwarting my schemes and for defeating us when that farmer called us to help destroy him. After returning to my motel to lick my wounds, I pondered on what was it that made Courage able to defeat us time and time again. So, when I learned of the farmer and his wife's passing, I thought it an opportunity to learn more about Courage."

"Ya never expected to experience it firsthand with all the spooky stuff that's been happening after gettin' here," Cajun confirmed.

"Quite." Katz agreed. "I'm still unsure when my acrimony for Courage changed to affection, but I know seeing you with him tended to make my blood boil."

"Wait. Ya mean to tell me the reason ya abused me all the time is cuz ya were jealous of Pup and me?" Cajun asked, stunned.

"Yes," Katz answered solemnly.

Cajun stared at Katz for a minute then began cackling, "Hahahaha- ow! Hahahahaha- ow! Hahahahahahaha- ow!"

Katz threw his icepack at the laughing fox and hissed when pain flared in his wrist. The icepack bounced off the cone and flopped to the floor. Katz glared at the icepack like it just insulted his mother and moved his leg to drag it back to him, but seeing how it was further than he expected, he quickly gave up as he was too much in pain and too tired to make an effort to retrieve it.

By then, Cajun was done laughing and gasping from pain, he said, "I never pegged ya for the jealous type."

Katz merely grunted in response.

Cajun then asked, "Why didn't ya make your move on Pup yet? Worried that the other villains have a thing for him too?"

"Would they?" Katz asked in return.

"I can't speak for Weremole and Le Quack. Black Puddle Queen is more of the seduce 'em and eat 'em type. Though I'm sure, the Clutching Foot ain't interested seein' how dog saliva is the cure to get rid of him and his lackeys." Cajun answered and then added, "Even if one or all of them love Pup romantically, he ain't gonna reciprocate it back."

"What makes you say that?" Katz inquired.

"I'm pretty sure Pup has romantic feelings for ya too," Cajun answered.

Katz blinked his yellows eyes at the fox. Surely, he's jesting. "What makes you say that?" he couldn't stop himself from asking.

"Besides Pup only reactin' to your name when that water creature had its hold on him, he runs to ya anytime somethin' spooky happens." Cajun pointed out.

Katz took that moment to analyzed Cajun's words. Yes, Courage responded to Katz's voice and as for running to him. . .back when the dummy transferred his soul into Katz's body and vice-versa, he couldn't move at all, and he couldn't speak unless someone used the trigger and handle inside the dummy's body, but he could hear, and Katz did hear Courage run into the room calling out his name. And Courage did come to Katz when the dog thought Cajun was planning to cook him. Could it be true?

"I see that wheel in your head turnin', pussy cat, and ya shouldn't be afraid to try and confess to Pup, or else it'll be too late, and you'll regret it," Cajun stated. "Christmas is right around the corner; ya should get somethin' special for Pup and Valentine's is comin' up too so ya should think about doin' somethin' romantic with Pup on that day."

"I never pegged you as a romantic," Katz said.

"If ya made an effort to get to know me, ya would've known." Cajun countered.

Katz certainly didn't want to agree with Cajun, so he grunted in reply as he slowly pushed himself up. "I think I'll make my way to bed. The sooner I sleep, the sooner I am healed and can clean the house before Courage comes home."

"Sounds like a plan." agreed Cajun.

Once Katz was on his feet, he watched as Cajun rocked back and forth in the rocking chair, grunting as he went and flopping forward onto the floor. Katz heard a muffled "Ow," come out of Cajun as he laid face-first on the ground.

"Do you need help?" Katz asked, dreading having to help Cajun as he felt the ache in his body.

"Just flip me on my back, and I'll sleep here on the floor," Cajun answered.

Katz slowly worked on getting down on his knees, with his already sore arms and with more grunts and groans, managed to push Cajun onto his back.

"Thanks, pussy cat," Cajun sighed gratefully.

Katz took a few steps towards the stairs, stopped, and meandered over to the couch. He grabbed the blanket draped on the sofa, dragged it over to where Cajun laid, and placed it on top of the fox.

Cajun was surprised by Katz's gesture but didn't show it. "Thanks again, pussy cat." he chirped.

"You're welcome," Katz said.

Katz pivoted and made his way to his room once again. Once he climbed up the steps and was in his room with the door shut, the cat flopped onto the bed, too exhausted to care if he wasn't laying in it correctly. Katz fell asleep almost instantly, but before he did, he had to wonder why Cupid decided to show up and hit him and Cajun with his arrows.

֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍

Now, who was it that asked Eros for the favor in the first place? Well, it so happened that Eros returned home to the heavens only to be greeted by a God and Goddess.

"How did it go?" the Goose God inquired.

"Did Courage and the one he loves have a good time?" the Storm Goddess asked.

"I didn't hit Courage with my arrow," Eros admitted.

"What?" they both asked incredulously.

"I hit the cat and the fox with my arrows, and they both fell in love with the dog," continued Eros.

"WHAT?!" they both screamed.

"I wanted to thank the dog for helping me get with Trucky." the Goose God bemoaned.

"And I wanted to thank Courage for reuniting me with my Duncan." the Storm Goddess added as she hugged her precious Duncan. "So, Goose God, and I thought Courage spending time with the one he loves would be a nice early Christmas present from us both."

"But, you somehow managed to screw it up?" the Goose God demanded.

"I may have told the dog I made a mistake when I shot the fox with my last arrow, but I actually knew what I was doing. The dog will get with the cat in due time." Eros told them both.

"So, are you going to make Courage and the cat fall in love with each other?" the Storm Goddess asked.

"Seeing how they already are in love with one another and don't need my help, I'll let them get to that point on their own," Eros explained then left.

Yes, he knew Courage and Katz were in love with each other the moment he set eyes on them, and he could tell the cat was bitter towards the fox involving the dog. So, he gave a little push to get the ball rolling with this seemingly love triangle the cat thought was going on. He stayed and watched the whole thing with his iron arrows ready to cancel out the love his arrows created if things have gotten out of hand. Courage and Katz will become a couple in time; they certainly don't need outside help for that. After all, who knows love better than the God of Love himself?

#Courage the Cowardly Dog #CtCD #CtCD fanfic #fanfic #Courage/Katz #Courage #Katz #Cajun #The Black Puddle Queen #Weremole #The Clutching Foot #Le Quack #love #arrows #The Family that Shouldn't Be #The Queen Who Saved Courage #ThrenodyGrimblood

61 notes · View notes

agrestenoir · 5 years ago

Note

ml au where lila has the black cat miraculous

lies and trying times (chat noir!lila au)

There’s a girl in a hotel lobby sitting on a plush sofa, watching raindrops trail down the glass pane of the window. Paris storms have overtaken the seemingly quiet morning, and on her first day in the city, Lila Rossi wants nothing more than to leave the stuffy hotel room her father has booked.

It’s supposed to be for three days, a business trip to impress a few French officials, but her father has already warned her that it might stretch out a bit. However, “a bit” in the Rossi family, is code for “three months to a year, depending on work”. He hasn’t decided whether they’re staying or leaving, which means she can’t decide whether to plan for permanence or establish an escape. The whole thing, like most other relocations throughout her entire life, is exhausting and messy. It’s the whole reason her mother decided to take a vacation to Barcelona three years ago… and hasn’t come back yet.

Outside, the rain pours hard. Lila can only watch.

She’s tired of waiting—for her father, for her mother, for her life to start.

She pushes herself off the sofa, gets up on her feet, and heads towards the front entrance of the Bourgeois hotel. Outside, there’s a bustling and busy city, full of ancient history and secrets—a whimsical world she so desperately wants to throw herself into but has never had a chance. Lila rushes out onto the wet pavement, wedge heels clacking through puddles as she pushes past people.

The rain pours. Lila leaves.

She’s tired of waiting.

ii.

The story starts like this: Lila lies.

It’s something she’s done in every situation. The lies are a quick and easy way to meld in with the new crowd of new people with new faces in a new place; she just wants to be liked and have friends. That’s the crux of the matter: Lila is always lonely.

In a way, she doesn’t care if everything is built on lies because nothing in her life is permanent—not her parents, not her home, not herself. Consequences are lost on her. She does what she can to process, to fit in, but something’s different this time.

You see, there’s something about those Paris rainstorms that leave her feeling light and new, where the rain washes away all her sins, like she has a clean slate with no problems.

In the Paris rain, Lila is born again.

(In the Paris rain, an evil burns with a new rage.)

In one world, a tottery old man named Master Fu finds a baker’s daughter and a famed son, giving them the tools to save the world from one man’s unquenchable dreams. In this world, he finds a lost little girl who lurks in the shadow of self-created chaos and dreams of doing better.

Potential, Master Fu thinks, is stronger than nature.

When he falls waiting for a train, cane clattering across the cement, Lila Rossi stares for a moment before extending her hand to help him up. Rainwater drips in rivets from her tangled hair and sopping clothes, but she still has those sad eyes and soft smile. He tucks the Black Cat Miraculous into her purse as she turns to jump onto the train, walking away with a surety even in the face of risk.

It’s a gamble, he thinks, but one who can create chaos knows how to control it.

The story starts like this: Lila lies.

But it ends like this: Lila can be better.

iii.

The first akuma is hard and rigid, his heart a rocky range of every reason he cannot find to love

Plagg calls him Stoneheart. Lila calls him hurting.

In a way, a part of Lila can understand where Stoneheart’s dark feelings originated from. Her life is a constant cycle of coming and going, having and hurting, and loving and losing. The geography of her own heart is full of high mountains and wide, open oceans, barriers to block her core from complete destruction, but each day in a new place leads to more bits being chipped away and crumbling to dust. Each place she goes, every person she meets: it’s the same story over and over again

Paris is different. It leaves her breathless and free in a way everything else has failed to do.

It doesn’t make her life easier, but it sure does make her believe in the impossible.

“Rock monster,” she murmurs to herself, staring at the akuma as he stalks through the streets. He leaves footsteps of cracked pavement, handprints of crumbled brick on buildings, and his roar echoes like thunder through the city. “I have… to beat a rock monster with a baton.”

“Hey,” a voice says beside her, startling her from her strategizing. “I’ve got a fucking yo-yo. I think you’re the one who’s better off here.”

Lila whips around, coming face-to-face with glittering green eyes and a bright smile. A boy stands beside her, all red and black-spotted with a mask to match. His blonde hair is wind-tamed and tousled, as if he’s been dashing across rooftops and flying through the city too. He looks every bit the partner that Plagg told her about.

“You must be my partner,” she says needlessly.

“Ladybug,” he introduces and holds out his hand. “You can call me Ladybug, pretty kitty.”

“Chat Noir.” Lila holds his hand in a strong grip and tugs him forward, until their foreheads are nearly touching. She levels him with a sharp smirk, eyes burning something fierce. “And I am so out of your league.”

Shoulders shaking, Ladybug laughs and laughs and laughs. “Oh,” he says, shaking his head. “I’m so going to love being your partner.”

In another world, a charismatic cat falls in love with a blue-eyed wonder. In this world, the cat finds a friend.

A little bit more of her heart crumbles to dust, leaving her more open to all that life has to bring her.

What do you know? In Paris, impossibilities are possible after all.

iv.

“Listen,” her father tells her, three weeks after they arrived in Paris. “Something came up.”

Lila enrolls in school the next day. She can’t say she didn’t see it coming.

Francis-Duponte is full of nameless faces and numerous questions, things she’d once rejoice in, but it’s her sixth school in three years, and she just wants a break. Madame Bustier introduces her to the class, and she sulks to the back row, slipping into a seat with hunched shoulders and tired eyes. Interactions are quite exhausting when nothing ever sticks.

The day passes in slow lunges, no sudden leaps or stumbling stops. The teachers are knowledgeable, the kids are loud, and the world is a kaleidoscope of everything she can’t handle. It’s during lunch, though, that a student accosts her in the hallway.

“You’re new, right? Lila Rossi?” A girl with bright blue eyes stands in front of her, holding a tablet against her chest. For the first time, Lila is at a loss for words. “Someone told me you were from Milan.”

“I am,” Lila acknowledges, and her mind is spinning away with lies built on threads of promise and purpose, whispering friend friend friend. She vehemently tries to deny it, swallowing back a lump and trying to pretend that old urges aren’t scratching at her heels.

“I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” the girl says. She shifts her weight, gaze skittering everywhere else; she’s nervous, but Lila doesn’t know why. “Do you want to sit with me at lunch? I’m working on some designs, and I was wondering if you could tell me about some of the fashion in Milan.”

I have my own fashion line.

My father owns half of the fashion industry in Milan.

I came to Paris because I’m personal friends with Gabriel Agreste.

I’m—

Lila doesn’t lie. Lila tries.

The question hits her in a whoosh, air jumping from her lungs as if a wrecking ball had slammed into her ribcage, and she can’t catch her breath. “I…” Lila swallows again, shaking her head. “Yes, actually, I can do that. I’m probably the best person to ask actually; I know a lot about Milan fashion.”

Marinette smiles.

Paris at night is beautiful.

Lila stares at the dark sky above her, which twinkles with clusters of stars and the soft glow of the pale moon, and she can’t help but think there’s something ethereal about this city. Ladybug sits above her, leaning against one of the struts of the Eiffel Tower, but he’s not staring at the view.

He’s staring at her.

She quirks a brow high, a smile slipping onto her face. “Distracted tonight, bug?”

“Why won’t you tell me your name?” He crosses his arms against his chest and levels her with a quizzical stare. “We’ve been partners for over two months now. Don’t you think that at least puts us on a first name basis?”

“Colleagues.”

Ladybug jumps down from his perch above, landing softly on his toes, and settles back on his haunches with a small, cautious smile. “I’m pretty sure we’re way past coworkers, kitten.”

Lila can’t help the laugh that falls from her lips. “Then what the hell would we be?”

He flashes her a quick, blinding smile—teeth and all. “Friends, obviously.”

Lila pauses, trying to make sense of her suddenly slippery world. With a quiet sigh, she drops down and parks herself alongside him. Their thighs brush against each other as they kick their feet back and forth, falling in sync like a pendulum swinging in time with a clock. Slowly but surely, her life in Paris ticks away, seconds slipping past without her notice, and she wonders when the day will come that her father will pick up and move to another city, another country, another continent.

It goes like this: Lila doesn’t form attachments.

It goes like this: Lila lies to push people away.

It goes like this: Lila is tired of being lonely.

“Friends,” she echoes.

“Yeah.” He rolls his eyes. “Haven’t you ever had a friend before?”

Lila toys with her fingers, needing to be doing anything to take her mind off of the situation, but the words still leave her lips. “No, I haven’t actually.” Something tells her that she needs to be open and honest with him. That’s what friends do, right?

“Oh,” he says. A quick pause and then, “I understand that feeling pretty well myself.”

There’s silence—thick and heavy like fog before a storm—but she pushes past it and forces herself to admit the truth. “I’ve moved around a lot literally my entire life. I never really had a chance to sit down and… talk to people, I guess. I really don’t know how to have friends.”

Ladybug bites his lip, pondering the problem for a moment before suggesting, “Well, I think you’re doing a pretty good job right now.”

She snorts, cheeks burning hot with embarrassment. “You’re lucky I like you, Ladybug.”

“See?” He pokes her nose with his index finger. “You’re great at this.”

Lila can’t stop laughing.

She really, really loves Paris.

vi.

It’s been months and months, but if it’s one thing that Lila Rossi knows, it’s that life is only temporary.

There’s no such thing as permanence when it comes to a home, people, or even friends.

What a fool I’ve been, she thinks.

vii.

“You’re a real asshole, you know that, Agreste?” Lila tells Adrien Agreste one morning after Marinette leaves the room, all stammer and stutter, muttering something about the restroom so she can try to drown herself in the sink to quench her raging embarrassment. Alya, the last of their trio, follows at her heels in effort to revive the former if needed be.

The perky blonde with the green eyes simply blinks up at her, too taken back that Lila erupted out of the blue. It’s obvious he’s confused, but Lila is tired of watching her friend make a fool of herself over a stupid boy who won’t give her the time of day.

“Excuse me?” Adrien asks.

“I said you’re an asshole,” she continues, crossing her arms against her chest. She leans forward, brown eyes burning with a fierce fire, her smile so sharp it could cut class. “And you’re going to start treating her better, or you’re going to have to deal with me.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” he tells her, and she just rolls her head. Stupid boy, stupid boy. “Marinette’s a good friend—”

Lila snorts. “Like you don’t see the way she looks at you, or how she can’t even speak a complete sentence the minute you walk into a room.” She flicks her wrist in his direction, poking the bridge of Adrien’s nose with her index finger. “Marinette’s my best friend, and I will not let you drag her along like she’s your latest toy.”

Adrien flounders, trying to find the right words. “I’m sorry, Lila, but I really don’t know what you mean.”

His answer makes her blood boil because how can he not see what he does to her? There’s an itch under her skin, because people who are too oblivious are hurt too easily, just like those who fall too fast and hard. Instead of a healthy relationship between two people, you just get a mess of pain and hurt, and there’s no hope of relief. It’s not a happy situation to get involved with.

How does he not know? And if he does, how can he let it go on?

“Marinette’s in love with you,” Lila says in a rush and laughs, something bitter and hard. “And you don’t care.”

There’s silence—a long pause—and then the voice that speaks is certainly not Adrien. “Lila?” Marinette asks, shaky and feeble from the doorway to the classroom.

Adrien turns to Marinette, eyes softening. “Marinette…?”

The other girl can’t even form a coherent response—in fact, she doesn’t even try—and instead bolts out of the room before either Lila, Alya, or even Adrien can stop her.

Something settles in Lila’s chest, like the pieces of her heart are clicking back together just to get broken again. The looming horror of the situation haunts her, a reaper coming to bring death to the tentative peace she’s carefully crafted. Ever since she came to Paris, lessons of love have been the only things she’s learned: how to love a friend, how to love a partner, how to love a city.

This is her first lesson in heartbreak.

viii.

“That akuma was my fault!” Lila thunders at Ladybug, their Miraculous beeping insistently as she paces the rooftop.

“In what way?” He turns to face her, eyes burning into her own. “You know that it’s never the akuma’s fault, so it’s certainly not yours. Hawkmoth—”

“Because I hurt her!” Chat Noir’s power thrumming through her, Lila can’t stop the hiss that falls from her lips. She grits her teeth, fists her long brown mane, keeps moving because coming to a standstill makes the world weigh heavier on her shoulders.

“That doesn’t make this your fault,” he says. “They’re vulnerable, and Hawkmoth sends his butterflies when you’re hurt, purposely because you’re at your lowest, when you’re the most vulnerable and easily manipulated. It’s his doing, not yours, chaton.”

“You don’t get it,” Lila interjects. “I betrayed her, and I put her in that position. Hawkmoth wouldn’t have gotten to her if I hadn’t hurt her in the first place. She’s my friend, and I did that to her!”

There’s quiet, a stillness that settles over, thick and heavy. “You know Marinette then?”

Lila snaps her gaze away from her partner, staring at her hands clasped into tight fists. Her ring is still beeping, as is Ladybug’s, but none of them seem to care at this point. “Yeah, I do.” She wonders how much she’s just given away.

“Are you Lila then?” he asks, and there it is.

Like an arrow has pierced through her heart, she grasps at the front of her chest as if to smother it’s fire, but nothing helps. Suddenly her world is crashing down around her, and the peaceful bubble she’s spent the last five months inside has burst.

Lila’s already lost one friend today—is she about to lost another?

“How do you…?” But she can’t voice the question quick enough as the magic gives away, and both Ladybug and Chat Noir disappear in a kaleidoscope of color.

It’s Adrien Agreste.

“Oh.” Everything turns slippery, and she struggles to find an anchor to keep her from falling. “Oh god.”

“Lila,” Adrien says, expression softening as he catches sight of the fear and worry lining her face. “It still wasn’t your fault. You were only trying to protect your friend.”

“No, you still don’t get it, Agreste. I hurt her.”

The name silences him, and shame washes over her like the high tide against the shore. Adrien Agreste has never been someone Lila gets along with, just for the sole way he turns her friend into a mess and continues on like it doesn’t matter. Lila knows people who string others along without a care—has done it herself for most of her life—because people are not important, and they truly don’t matter to her.

(Because she doesn’t matter to them—she never has, and never will. So many names and faces, all in different places, who promise to call or write even after she leaves, but no one has ever reached out to her after she’s gone. It’s the crux of her pain, and it makes her realize that she’s never been wanted, she’s never been first choice, and she’s never been someone worth having.)

“We’re only human, Lila,” he tells her after a long while. The words echo through her head, louder than she wants them to be, but they still speak volumes. He’s not wrong, but he’s not right either.

“Do you know how hard it is to tell the truth?” Lila takes a deep, shuddering breath and pushes on. “Telling the truth is like… giving a part of you to someone, and today I did that. I told you how Marinette felt, and that was a part of me—a part of her that she willingly shared—and… I took it, and I told you. She will never trust me again, won’t even look at me, and I lost one of my only friends. So don’t try to tell me you understand because you don’t get it.”

“I’m sure Marinette will forgive you. You just have to apologize—”

Lila shakes her head. “No, no. You still don’t get it, Adrien, and you never will. I don’t tell the truth because the truth fucking hurts. It’s so much easier to lie. It’s the only thing I’m good at.” She laughs, bitter and broken. “I should’ve just kept lying.”

Right now, with everything she cares about broken on the floor, it’s the only truth she knows: Lila Rossi is so good at lying, it hurts.

ix.

It goes like this: Lila lies.

It’s easy on most days, just a couple of words strung together to capture the ear of whoever’s listening, to make them linger on her voice, their eyes following hers like a lifeline. In a way, it makes them navigators as they track her across the sky, using a star to find their way. Empowered, she feels infinite, where she can be the impossible and they just pray in her wake, but it’s been a long time since she’s longed for that.

Paris has changed her. Being Chat Noir has changed her. Friends have changed her.

Telling the truth has changed her.

Truth is a faith that Lila has never believed in. It’s a metamorphosis of chance: you have faith in the ones you love, you have faith in the city you protect, you have faith in your partner—but there’s no guarantee that the truth will make things better. Truth, like any form of human nature, just like the lies she used to spin, has the capability to hurt. But like the first time she donned the mask, she curls herself up into a cocoon, the truth a hard shell against the rest of the world, and waits and prays to become a butterfly.

In the best turnout, Lila flies. In the worst possibility, she falls.

Lila didn’t realize just how truth could be a weapon. Lies are a two-way street: one who benefits, and those who suffer if they’re stupid enough to believe it. Truth can be wielded to render someone raw and bleeding, until lies seem like the better option, to the point where they can even heal.

Lila wishes she remembered how to lie.

Marinette stands in the deserted hallway, arms crossed against her chest, and she refuses to meet Lila’s inquisitive eyes. “I just wanted… to talk about yesterday.” It’s like she’s steeling herself against a stronger power before she presses on.

“What’s there to talk about?” Lila shrugs and tries to pretend like it doesn’t matter but it does it does it does. “You went full akuma and tried to destroy the city. It’s just a typical Tuesday.” She swallows thickly, dropped her chin to her chest. “At least Ladybug and Chat Noir were there to save you.”

Marinette laughs, something soft and quiet. “At least there was one bright side.”

“Obviously,” Lila says. “Chat Noir is pretty damn amazing. I know her actually, did you know that?”

“Lila.”

“I’m also on a first name basis with Ladybug, but he’s pretty cute, you know? I could totally introduce you guys—”

“Lila.” The sound of Marinette’s voice freezes her in motion. It feels like she’s trapped in orbit and just waiting for gravity to take hold and bring her down, like a meteor due for impact.

Lila closes her eyes and spits out a quick, “I’m sorry!”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s my fault you were akumatized. It’s my fault you and Adrien aren’t talking.” There’s a burning sensation in the corner of her eyes, and Lila desperately tries not to cry.

“I…” Marinette presses her lips into a thin line, shaking her head. “First off, I forgive you.”

There’s a stunned silence. “What?” Lila asks, too afraid to have her repeat it.

“I said I forgive you,” Marinette tells her. “We have a lot more to talk about, but that’s the most important thing for you to know right now.”

The shake of Lila’s hands amplifies for she’s been shown love and doesn’t know how to handle it. It’s not something she gets from her father and her mother is more distant than the miles away from her last home. Ladyb—Adrien is perhaps the closest thing she’s ever had to someone she cares for, and it’s clear now that Marinette (and perhaps some others) have gotten that close too.

“You forgive me?”

“Come on.” Marinette grabs a hold of Lila’s shoulder and pushes her forward down the hall, out towards the courtyard where the rest of their class is taking lunch. “We’ve got a lot to talk about, and you can tell me exactly how you know Ladybug and Chat Noir.”

There’s a pause, and then, “You think I’m lying, don’t you?”

“Please,” Marinette snorts. “You think I honestly believe that you know Ladybug and Chat Noir personally?”

“I do.”

“Sure.”

The two friends go on, much like life does.

It’s the way of the world.

It starts like this: Lila lies.

But it ends like this: Lila is better because of it.

“So,” Adrien says from his perch on the edge of the rooftop, his Ladybug mask practically glowing in the afternoon sunlight. “Marinette asked me out this morning.”

“Huh,” Lila remarks, cocking her head to the side. “You sure you heard her right?”

Snorting back a laugh, he nudges her side with his elbow. “Please, you know I’d never—”

“We all know you don’t have the balls to handle that girl.” She stands up and takes a couple steps back from the ledge, unclipping her baton from her waist. “Just like we all know she is the best thing to ever happen to you, and if you don’t her as such, I’m going to break you.”

“Lila!” he snipes back, cheeks burning red.

All she can do is laugh as she runs towards the edge of the rooftop, leaping off into open air. “Try to keep up, bugaboo!”

“Don’t call me that!” Adrien calls after her as the two fly through the streets, past the meandering civilians and through silver sunlight that streaks through buildings and trees.

The city sings. Lila laughs.

She’s living.

Oh god, is she living.

#clmeeni #ask away #miraculous ladybug #lila rossi #my writing #my fic #adrinette

223 notes · View notes