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hufflepuffhermione · 4 years ago

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83 and/or 98 for j/d?

Prompt: Take a deep breath.

Set between Bad Moon Rising and The Fall’s Gonna Kill You.

Josh slams his office door behind him and presses his back against it, letting his legs slide out from under him until he’s on the ground, his knees pulled up to his chest, and his head resting between them, all in an attempt to calm his racing heart and shallow breaths.

This has to be some big, cosmic joke. Hasn’t he gone through enough already? Hasn’t this year been hard enough without this mess he’s about to be plunged into?

He really thought things were getting better. He hasn’t felt panicked like this for a month, hasn’t needed to step out of any meetings or leave any events early. He even navigated standing by the President as he worked the rope line last week, and while it hadn’t been his favorite thing in the world, he had gotten through it without panicking, without flashing back. But even after all that, all it takes is one conversation to send him back into an anxious spiral.

The President has MS. The President lied about it. And now the President is going to come clean before someone else does it for him.

He’s worked with his therapist on coping strategies for many scenarios. What to do when riding in the motorcade with the sirens on. What to do if the music at a state dinner becomes too much. What to do if the nightmares decide to come on Air Force One. One they didn’t cover: what to do if the president admits he lied about a degenerative disease. What to do if there’s a congressional investigation into it. What to do if suddenly the foundation of life, work, and everything is shaken.

Josh lifts his head from his knees and scrubs his face with his hands. He can’t talk to anybody about this, either. Toby knows, but CJ and Sam don’t yet, and the brief conversation he had with Toby about it was mostly Toby yelling; it hadn’t made Josh feel any better. And Leo… Leo was part of the betrayal, Leo has known for a year, and Josh isn’t sure he can trust Leo right now.

He can’t trust anyone, apparently.

He had taken it pretty well initially, at least outwardly. He had exclaimed in surprise, of course, but he managed to lower his voice and ask a few questions before his head began to pound and he felt that he was losing his grip on control. The President had asked him if he wanted to continue to talk about it, but Josh had excused himself, knowing that he wasn’t going to be able to keep a handle on things much longer.

Toby had been in the outer office when Josh stumbled out, and in a low voice had whispered, “You know?” At an affirmative nod, he had practically dragged Josh to his office, relived, apparently, to have the chance to rant at someone.

This, however, was not at all what Josh needed, and after ten minutes where he hand’t gotten a word in edgewise, either because Toby had more than enough words or because his head was pounding too much to coherently create sentences, Josh had practically run back to his office.

And now he’s falling apart.

He lets out more shuddering breaths, and can feel the tears begin to prick at the corner of his eyes. It’s a good thing it’s late, it’s a good thing no one with see the Deputy Chief of Staff breaking down in his office. Revealing that the President has a degenerative disease will be bad enough without people finding out one of his top aides is off his rocker.

There’s a knock on his door, and it startles him. He thought he’d gotten better, not startling as much at loud noises, but he’s clearly not in his best state of mind, and he thought everyone had gone home.

The door pushes against his back, but it’s not until he hears Donna’s voice behind it that he scuttles over across the floor to imitate his previous position with his back against the desk. This is the safest he can be, with his knees to his chest and his back against something. He’s not exposed, he can’t be hurt this way.

“Josh,” Donna says again, pushing the door open and succeeding this time. “Josh!” When she sees him on the floor, she practically dives to her knees next to him. She doesn’t touch him—touching him when he doesn’t expect it, she’s learned, can sometimes make things worse—but she comes as close as she can. “What’s wrong?”

He looks up at her, shakes his head, and buries it in his knees again, still unable to catch his breath. Sweat is beginning to bead on his forehead.

“Take a deep breath,” she says softly. She takes one herself, as an example. “Just breathe with me.�� She’s done this before, when he’s panicked.

He hates that she has to do this, but he tries to slow her breathing to fall in line with hers. It’s not easy, and he still shudders and coughs and his heart still races, but eventually he pulls his head out of his knees to look into her eyes. He blinks and takes one long, slow breath, and lets the tension in every muscle in his body collapse.

Donna then reaches out to squeeze his hand. “You’re doing really well,” she says. “Just keep breathing with me.” She shifts to bring her back against the desk and sit next to him.

Josh lets his legs fall to the floor, and although doing that immediately induces the anxiety of exposure, he manages to fill his lungs with air slowly and keep himself from hyperventilating. “Sorry, I…” his voice is stuck in his throat.

“Shhh…” Donna says. She’s really impressively calm, but then again, this isn’t the first time she’s witnessed this. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I can’t,” he says tightly. He can feel her eyes trained on him, but he doesn’t meet them.

“Okay,” she says. “You can when you’re ready. It helps to talk about it.”

Josh shakes his head. “No. I mean it, I can’t talk about it.”

“Matter of national security?”

He almost manages to laugh. “Something like that.”

Donna nods and squeezes his hand again. “Okay. What do you need?”

“To go back in time and not get out of bed this morning,” he mutters, resisting the urge to bring his knees up again.

“Which agency would time machines fall under? Would that be a NASA thing? It’s not space, but it seems like it would be a NASA thing. I’ll give them a call and see what we can do,” Donna says, beginning to push herself up from the ground.

Josh manages to crack a smile.

“Want to get up or would you rather hang out there for a little longer?”

He accepts her outstretched hand to help pull himself up. His heart is still racing and his head swirls, but he concentrates on breathing more slowly and manages to make it to his chair to take a seat.

“I can go,” Donna says. “I know you can’t talk about it, so if you’d rather be alone…”

Josh shakes his head. If he’s alone, he’ll let himself think about the future, and how incredibly frightening that is. If Donna is here, she can take his mind off of it. “No. Please stay.” His voice is barely above a whisper, but he hopes she can sense the pleading in it.

“Okay,” she says, settling herself in the visitor chair. “Do you want to hear about a report I read earlier? Apparently they’ve discovered this new sea creature in the deep ocean, and it’s just about the most ridiculous looking thing I’ve ever heard of.”

He really couldn’t care less about Donna’s sea creature, but it’s such a relief to hear her voice, and he lets the sound soothe and ground him.

Things are bad, but he’ll breathe through it, as long as he has her to show him how.

#josh x donna #josh lyman #donna moss #the west wing #tww fic #alli's writings #anonymous #asks #once again i am incapable of writing anything less than 1000 words #it's funny to call this a drabble challenge when everything i write is so long

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hyeque · 3 years ago

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social media mishap [kuroo tetsurō]

synopsis: kuroo explores and struggles navigating the world of social media

notes: inspired by these posts (one | two | three) as well. i wanted to write up a quick drabble for you all so excuse the typos!

warnings: mildly suggestive, kuroo being petty as usual

“i don’t get it.”

kuroo tetsurō stares at the screen of his phone, brows knitted in confusion as he tries to absorb the information just relayed to him by you.

“so you’re telling me,” he leans back, hands on his knees, “that linkedIn is not considered a social media app?”

“um, no, tetsu.” you blink, shifting in your spot. “i’ve made that pretty clear the first five times.”

kuroo had been talking about marketing for the jva, wondering of what ways he can engage more with younger audiences to get them interested in volleyball.

the poor man looks just as lost as he was from the get-go. “i met you on linkedIn though, doesn’t that count for something?”

“sure, if bugging yachi for my number through her linkedIn counts. i still can’t believe you did that.” embarrassment seeps into your skin when you remember getting a message from the rooster head, saying he’d like to work with you again. it didn’t take long for you to realize he actually had other motives.

he pinches your cheek, making you swat his hand away. “you were so cute. i didn’t know if i would see you again so i didn’t want to waste any chances.” he says. “and look at us now! linkedIn creates romances!”

“not normally. people don’t use linkedIn to flirt or date people.” you snort.

kuroo blinks. “but then how do people engage or interact with people? especially when you want to keep up with them?”

you blink, wondering how he can be so oblivious. “people use instagram, websites, twitter, facebook, even youtube. there’s many ways to reach audiences besides linkedIn.” you respond. “i don’t know why you don’t try one of those. well i mean i guess you have instagram, but why not something like twitter?”

“people on twitter are sensitive.” he huffs, “when that one guy insulted volleyball i got hate for defending it! can you believe that?”

“no honey, i can’t.” you respond, feigning empathy for him as you rub his shoulders. he doesn’t seem to notice the sarcasm in your tone and you relax. the memories hit you and you really don’t want to argue with him and tell him that calling someone a ‘preschooler’ is not appropriate.

you think the conversation is over but kuroo is still on his soapbox. “and listen, linkedIn been very efficient with conducting business. don’t judge. i’ve met many amazing people on there!”

“i’m not judging tetsu, don’t worry…and why does it sound like you’re using a dating app?” you laugh, “also, have you ever thought about using tiktok to reach younger audiences?”

“tiktok? no way.” he groans, “kenma said they’d bully and… ‘drag’? me for sure.” he uses quotes around the word ‘drag’ and you hold back laughter over how seriously he’s taking this.

“besides, i can’t keep up with kids these days. they’re weird. and scary.” he shivers slightly at the thought of making a tiktok.

“you’re so…” you trail off and shake your head, resuming your tasks of folding laundry. “never mind.”

“i’m what?” he challenges, tilting his head. “finish the sentence, sweetheart.”

“very much an old man. it’s funny how kenma knows everything about technology yet you know very little, and you’re only a year older than him.” you chuckle.

kuroo pouts at the sentiment, “hey, i’m trying at least. you should be proud of me. you told me to get a new phone, and i did!”

“after begging you many times.” you point out.

“that wasn’t the only time you begged with this phone. at least under different circumstances.” he winks, making you shove him away. your phone pings and you check it, a small grimace at whatever it was on your screen.

kuroo, attentive as he ever is, notices immediately.“someone bothering you?” he sits up straighter but his eyes darken slightly at the thought of someone disrespecting and upsetting you. no way is he going to have that on his conscious.

“no, atsumu just left a dumb comment on my instagram post again.” you say, waving it off. you disappear into your shared bedroom before kuroo has the chance to get another word in.

“‘again’?” he pulls out his phone before going to your instagram. upon seeing the post of you he almost gets sidetracked by how pretty and beautiful you are before seeing what atsumu wrote.

his eyes widen at the message before glaring. before he knows it, his thumbs are moving across the screen to reply.

he doesn’t think too much about what happens after but when he sees you stomping from the bedroom, an upset look on your face he knows something he did was wrong.

“tetsurō, why did you comment on my post that you’re going to get atsumu fired from his job?!” you yell, holding up your phone. “on the japan volleyball association account of all places?”

kuroo’s heart skips a beat. “crap, that wasn’t my personal? well, whatever,” he shrugs nonchalantly, “look i know people. i can do things. it’s not my fault that he wanted to bad mouth you.” he turns his nose up before sighing, “you should be thanking me for being a good husband looking out for his wife.”

you shake your head, rolling your eyes. “he was joking? it’s how we mess with each other. and…you can’t just threaten people online?” you look at your phone and let out a distressed noise. “great, now atsumu’s blowing up my phone wondering what you meant.”

“you know i don’t understand tone indications on the internet!” he whines, starting after you. “and maybe he deserved it—”

“kuroo.” you say sternly.

he smiles that sweet smile that he thinks will get him out of trouble, “yes, kuroo?” he pulls you close and nuzzles his face into your neck.

“this is your problem, fix it.” you shove your phone towards him before pulling out of his grasp to walk away. your phone buzzes and there’s no need to look at the caller ID to know who it is.

kuroo sighs, knowing he’s going to be spending a lot of time making it up to you tonight. he takes a breath before answering, a charming smile on his face.

“miya, hi! how are ya?”

endnote: for context to the atsumu thing, you and him are friends and often mess with each other on each other’s posts. he posts a lot of thirst traps on his account so you always say he’s ‘trying too hard’ or looks ‘ugly’ with the faces that he makes. he’ll often say something of the same thing under your selfies out of pettiness.

tag list: @sabyss @boo-kugo @melianlmfao @ohtobiors @duckymcdoorknob @explicitlyfine @suckerforsugawara @little-nightowl @strqndedstones @tetsoda @jeansbabycake @lunaevangeline @simpforerenn @pelicanpizza @cirigiri @ray-lol @oikawas-milk-bread @tetsukentona @icedhoneyy

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo x female!reader #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo drabble #haikyuu drabble #kuroo fluff #haikyuu fluff #kuroo tetsurou x reader #hq fluff #hq kuroo #hq x reader

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alreadyblondenow · 3 years ago

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Two is better than one

Pairing: Lifeguard!Mark Lee x female!reader

Genre: SMUT, FLUFF

WC: 2,857k

Warnings: unprotected sex, couch sex, quickie, swearing, mentions of making out, this drabble is very light smut and fluffy HEHE

A/N: NOT PROOFREAD. I’ll fix it once I have time. Please let me be, I just want to write something fluffy for Mark to take away all my stress. For Neo Smut Collective’s Sunny Side.

———

There’s this one guy in school that your friends have been telling you to date during summer vacation because you’re the only single gal in your circle of friends. Of course that’s completely fine, but whenever your friends has double dates and they wanted you to come, you simply turn them down because you don’t want to be a burden during their date.

“And that’s why we’ve been telling you to date Mark, give him a chance, he’s a nice dude. Not to mention very good looking,” Your friend whines while she scans the clothes on the rack.

“I know what he looks like and I know that he’s nice,” you giggle at what your friend said, “but we don’t know if he wants to date. What if he’s perfectly fine with being single too? Seriously you guys, you’re wasting your time. I’m fine with being single,”

“Oh honey you can’t fool us. Admit it, you don’t want to date Mark because you want him to earn it, and not because we set you up with him” she smirked.

If you’re being honest, what she said was partly true. Partly. It’s true that yes, you wanted him to make the first move and actually like you first before you go on a date with him. And what you said earlier about being happy while you’re single is also true.

And the reason why you wanted him to like you first is because there’s no doubt that you will like him back. He’s Mark Lee. The guy is basically perfect and you knew already that falling for him is not going to be hard. He’s cool, funny, loud and you heard that he’s actually nice with everyone and not in a flirty way.

Given that you’re single and you’re used to do things alone, on a perfectly good day and nice weather, you decided to get some sun at the beach alone. With your juice on the side and a book on your hand, this day is going to be perfect you thought.

But while you were admiring the beach while siping on your drink, you saw a familiar figure sitting on the lifeguard chair which immediately made you remove your sunglasses so you could have a good look at him and to confirm your own judgement if you were right. And yes, you were right. It’s Mark Lee. Guarding the beach with no shirt on and just wearing his beach shorts... looking so hot and handsome with his shades on while smiling back to you.

Wait-

Just when you realized that he caught you looking at him, you feel so jumpy and nervous for no reason and you avoided him immediately. Going back to reading your book, just reading and not actually understanding a word. But when you saw him come down from that tall chair and saw him heading towards you, you suddenly got up and gathered your stuff with panic movements.

“Is she avoiding me?” Mark murmured to himself while walking towards you. “Wait! Look behind you-“ he shouted and tried warning you about the waiter carrying a tray of cold beverages. But too late because you already bumped on him and spilled different kinds of juices on your swimsuit.

“Don’t worry about it I’ll pay for it” he said to you while wrapping a towel around you and keeping you close to him. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up”

And just like that, without further discussions, you found yourself in Mark’s arms. Heading over their backdoor and you, entering his house for the first time. Everything happened so fast that you didn’t have time to refuse his offer of getting you cleaned up. He brought you straight to his cozy room, preparing the bathroom for you and telling you that if you need anything else just call him.

“Uhm... Mark?” You shout from the bathroom.

“Yeah? You need something?”

“My clothes are ruined and wet because of the juice-“

“Right, uhm... Gotcha! I-I’ll leave the clothes on the floor, okay” and off he goes to his closet to look for something that you could wear. Mark was all jumpy and nervous as he heads to the bathroom door and leave the clothes on the floor. This was all his fault, if he didn’t startled you by running towards you at the beach, you would’ve stayed in your comfort under the sun and the accident wouldn’t happen.

“I’ll pay for the damage and I’ll make sure to bring your clothes back immediately”

“No, don’t worry about it. Uhm... the restaurant, we own it. So don’t worry about it” he said nervously. Smiling so big in front of you. “So you know my name, huh? Why’d you ran off like that earlier?”

“Hmm. To be honest I got shy. And it’s so stupid, now I’m humiliated” you put your on your face and let out an awkward laugh, Mark did too but you notice that he can’t stop looking at you. That’s when you noticed that he has a pretty big head, beautiful eyes and sharp cheekbones. In other words, you’ve never appreciated his handsome features quite this close.

At the end of the day, Mark walked you home and you had a good talk with him. Taking it as a chance for apologizing to him for whenever you don’t show up during planned double dates. Turns out he never showed up too. Does that means he’s not interested with dating? Or with you in general?

A week after that unforgettable interaction with Mark, you found yourself looking at the neatly folded sweatpants and hoodie in front of you while thinking long and hard if you’re going to message Mark first and let him know that you’re going to his house to bring back the clothes... but it looks like you’re flirting with him already and you don’t like that... “fuck it” you murmured and head to their house just because you knew you’d have to return his clothes eventually. And just when you were a couple of blocks away, he came from behind and tickled you on your waist. Making you jolt and turn around with quick and sharp movements. He giggled and greeted you with a handsome smile, surprised that he even looked dashing with a shirt on.

“No lifeguard duty?” you asked, returning his big smiles with awkward ones.

“Just finished, that’s why you have no choice but to hang out with me” he said confidently like you two have been friends for a long time already.

Funny how just a week ago, you and your friend were debating whether you should give Mark a chance to take you out but you still refused because you wanted him to make the first move first. And now as you two hang out together in their house, watched the sunset by the beach with a couple of beers on the side, you can see that you’ve been missing quite a lot.

“So you’re saying that you’ve been waiting for me all this time?” he said out of nowhere while eating a pizza crust. You’re now in their kitchen, eating pizza and having more beers with him. Getting a little too friendlier than earlier.

“Not really waiting. I wasn’t expecting anything, but off topic...You’re cuter than I expected you to be” and just as the words came out from your mouth, you don’t know where the bravery came from. This must be the alcohol’s doing, you thought. You tried to avert your focus on other things like munching a few chips and finishing your beer in one down. Thinking of a better escape for this awkward situation that you started but before you come down from the kitchen counter, he confidently went in between your legs and came closer to you. So close that you can smell each other’s breath and smell the sweet flavor of the alcohol... but Mark wanted more than smelling you.

He wanted to taste your lips, and so he did.

Tongue swiping on your lips the moment his touched yours. Letting him dominate the kiss while he reaches for your arms and make you embrace him. He smiled and put the kiss to a halt.

“How’s that for my first move?” He smirked and placed another sweet kiss on your lips. And the next thing you know you and Mark are exchanging kisses nonstop until you reached their living and continue what you’re doing on their soft couch. Sitting comfortably on Mark’s lap, legs on both sides, while your hands are all over him.

“Take these off, let’s have some fun” he whispered while tugging your shorts. Completely aware that he’s brave and confident like this because of the alcohol push.

“Oh Mark Lee, you’ve been challenging me lately huh”

And it only takes a few seconds for you and Mark to get naked from waist down and go back to your previous position. Oh you wanted to feed your lust and look at his cock just for a few seconds but you need him already.

“Parents will be home soon, fuck-“ he informed you while you put his cock inside you slowly. Breathing heavily when you finally moved your hips slowly, then fast. You watch him furrow his brows, rest his arm on his head and watch you move with lidded eyes as you fuck him good. “Faster” he requested, grabbing your clothed boobs and kissing your neck that immediately put you both on edge.

With fast movements and sweet moans, soon Mark cant handle it anymore and grabbed you by the waist so fast that you didn’t even saw it coming, pulled out his cock from inside of you and pumped it while you kiss him during his orgasm. Not giving a fuck if his cum stains on their couch.

“I was planning to ask you on a date. Sorry this happened earlier than expected. I promise to try and stop myself from luring you to having sex with me. I promise” he apologized and looked at your swollen lips from kissing, tracing it gently and letting out a satisfied sigh as he tries so hard to not look down and look at your pussy.

“It’s fine with me Mark. But y-yeah. You’re right. We should do this the right way” you shyly admitted. Getting up from his lap and making yourself decent again. Why do you feel like you’re having great regrets?

After that night you and Mark did not see each other for a few weeks again. Well, mainly because you’re avoiding him and whenever you remember about the sex and how good it felt... it just feels wrong at the same time and you don’t know why you feel this way.

“Are you really not going to give Mark a chance?” your friend once again nags you about Mark. Maybe Mark kept what happened between you two and did not tell it to his friends.

“Uhm. I seriously don’t know” you answered weakly.

“Well, I hope you won’t get mad because we tricked you. He’s going to the park with us tonight”

But right before you get mad and whine about the situation, Mark and his friends appeared. And immediately forcing you two to stand beside each other.

The park was packed and busy with people wearing big smiles the whole night. You wanted to smile too and laugh loudly whenever Mark tries to make you laugh or even make a decent conversation but you’re afraid that your friends will get the wrong idea.

Good thing, Mark knew that you’re not comfortable right now especially that your friends are around. He also knew that what happened between you two completely ruined everything already, and he admits that he fucked up.

“Want to go somewhere else?”

He whispered beside you while your friends are riding the roller coaster and you and Mark are on bag duty. You wanted to say ‘yes’ of course, and you will use this time to apologize to him privately and explain what you’re really feeling.

Coming up with different excuses, you and Mark left the park and your friends separately and eventually meet him at the beach near their house. When you arrived at their house, surprisingly he set up mini picnic just for you, ordered pizza and made sure you two drink non-alcoholic beverages tonight to avoid what happened last week.

“This is not our first date. Not yet. But this is my way of apologizing for what happened. I’m sorry,”

“You did nothing wrong. I should be the one apologizing. It’s not right that I left you hanging just because my regrets got into me. I’m sorry”

After apologizing and talking about random stuff that comes out of your mouths, Mark finally had the guts to ask you something serious. Something that he has been thinking the moment his lips crashed on yours for the first time.

Firstly he admitted that he liked you. A lot. And that didn’t surprised you already because you found out with the way he kiss and hold you during the day you had sex. But what surprised you is that, you don’t feel the same way towards him even though he’s perfect.

“Honestly I was expecting myself to fall in love with you easily. But turns out you can’t really force your feelings” you said. Careful with your words so you won’t hurt him but you don’t have a choice.

“But do you want to give it a try? Give us a try?”

“I’ll think about it” you answered honestly. Because truth be told you don’t want to give him false hope.

And after a night full of truths and honesty, you and Mark remained close friends and promised each other that you will be honest with your feelings for him no matter what happens. As part of being friends, you visit Mark at the beach whenever he has lifeguard duties and wait until his shift is over to hang out or whenever it’s raining and his parents are away, you and Mark stay in their living room and watch Netflix while enjoying the weather together with his fluffy blanket covering your entire bodies.

Being single is not a problem to you, you are perfectly happy and contented with your self love and you believe that having a boyfriend will not make much of a difference in your life. And you also believe that Mark, a genuine and very lovable person, deserves someone who will shower him with love. You just can’t see yourself doing it with him.

But with almost a month of hanging out everyday, you grew fond of him that sometimes you unconsciously hug him and became unexpectedly sweet. Like that time at the beach, while watching the sun go down. You rested your chin at the top of his shoulder and decided to play with his black soft locks. Massaging his scalp while you admire him closely. Even Mark was shocked to the core when he realized that you are incredibly close. After that moment, you saw him as someone who can add up to your happiness. You’re now confident that Mark can double the happiness that you have in your heart now. Love is not easy. Loving someone is never a walk in the park. But being loved by someone like Mark, is not an opportunity that knocks on your door everyday.

Tonight is stargazing night and as usual he let you have his blanket, now your favorite blanket. It was a very tiring day for him and he accidentally fell asleep next to you. A thin mattress on the sand is not that comfortable but he will trade any comfortable bed in the world as long as you’re beside him while he rests. When he opened his eyes, the beach was blue and the sun was just about to come up. He noticed that you’re shivering, so he decided not to share with the blanket with you and give it to you completely instead.

“No, we can share. Come here” you murmured when you feel him move aside. So to keep him beside you, you wrapped your one arm around his waist and hugged him tightly. “This is better” you said, and in that very moment, even though the beach was still dark, you witness him blush and smile from ear to ear. Showing those sharp cheekbones and returning the tight hug.

“Mark,”

“Hm? Still cold?” he asked while keeping you warm using his hand, rubbing it on your shoulders.

“Not at all. But I decided to give us a try”

He let out a satisfied sigh and became instantly clingy and giggly, “Finally,”

And you were right. Mark made you happier than you could have ever imagine. But even though that he won your heart already, for Mark, he still thinks that you can leave him so easily. One mistake, one fuck up and he can ruin everything that he’s building right now. That’s why while making you happy everyday, he’s working on keeping you forever by showing you that he can love you even more each day. Showing you that two is better than one and you don’t have to experience love alone

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dreamsclock · 4 years ago

Note

//implied unhealthy eating, the dance au

i wrote a drabble based on what little i remember of the dance au because i had the random and sudden urge to so uh

yeah

it's terrifying to see people you hate create beautiful things, tommy thinks. it's terrifying to see people you hate run deeper than your own emotions.

tommy thinks that might have been the deepest thought he's ever had. it only makes his scowl deepen as he stares at dream, elegant and eerily perfect on the stage.

everybody knows dream is good, everybody knows he's perfect. it's only when you look deeper in the scene of the dance that it becomes more than surface beauty. it becomes twisted and gnarled and strange, and tommy can't decide if he wants to run or look closer.

he chooses the latter, and he's not really happy with what he finds.

it's easy to believe dream is just an asshole, a perfect dancer who's so jealous he felt the need to do horrible things. it's harder to see his ribs cutting at his skin, it's harder to see the eyebags under the makeup, it's harder to see dream shudder anytime someone gets too close too fast or call his name too loud.

tommy wants to think that the only things in the world are how he sees them at first, but dream forces him to look deeper, and it makes tommy's stomach twist to know what he finds.

DUDE !!!! D U D E !!!!!! your writing is so good holy fucking shit i missed this au so much, you just reinstalled love for this au in me again :DDD the opening thoughts with tommy are sooooo so accurate for this au, you captured his thoughts towards dream perfectly like goddamn ?? just everything about your ficlet has been taken right from how i see the au in my mind and i love it, this is so good :DDD i hope you don’t mind me writing a little thing based off it too !!! i miss this au so much :’)

warnings: implied unhealthy eating, dehumanisation, unhealthy coping mechanisms, self destructive behaviour, emotional distress, mental instability, trauma

“How d’you think he gets so good?” Tubbo asks him one day, eyes bright with curiosity, face partially tilted towards Dream. “I mean, look at him.”

Tommy doesn’t need to. He can’t remember the last time he — or anyone else — had done anything besides look at Dream. Since Wilbur’s hospitalisation there had been no one to challenge Dream, no one to push against his claim to the spotlight, and he shines every time his feet touch the stage... It’s impossible not to look at him. Everyone does.

And it’s funny Tubbo should ask this, like it’s the first time he’s ever really thought about it, because he’s not jealous of Dream, never has been, probably never will be. Tommy can’t quite relate (which is fucked up, really fucked up, considering how well he knows Dream now). Tubbo doesn’t have the same ambition that had driven Tommy to new heights and had wrecked Wilbur and dominated every move Dream made — it’ll be his saving grace. Tommy thinks Tubbo might be the only one to survive this fucking school: he doesn’t think he will, not with how things have been going lately.

Looking to the stage out of the corner of his eye, a frown playing over his face automatically, he is almost certain Dream won’t.

It’s under the mask that’s the worrying part. Dream rarely takes it off anymore, keeps his face covered to hide any potential signs of weakness that might show - exhaustion, pain, annoyance, unhappiness, even just having a bad day - but Tommy has been there when he has, once or twice. Long after most students have gone to bed, long after most studios have closed and the lights in the school have gone out (and not long after Wilbur’s exit which had left students avoiding practice rooms studiously), he’d spotted Dream finally leaving a practice room, mask in hand, weariness dogging his steps. And he still can’t dismiss what he’d seen.

It hadn’t been exhaustion, or pain, or anything like that. It hadn’t been the slight smile he’d worn when watching Tommy fuck up time and time again in rehearsal, it hadn’t been the manic triumphant laughter when Wilbur had blown up the stage. It hadn’t been bitter anger or disgust or cold contemplation like he knows arrogant arseholes like Dream usually wear. It had been nothing.

Tommy had stared into Dream’s face, too caught off guard to continue spying, and Dream had stared back with nothing in his gaze. A question, maybe, but a hollow one, empty and dark and cavernous. His face had been sharp, too sharp, and the dark bags under his eyes he’d usually cover with makeup hadn’t been surprising, but Dream hadn’t even been angry at him. Hadn’t been anything. And Tommy had stammered out an excuse and promptly fled back to his room, and thinks about that now, as he watches Dream perform. Under the mask is another mask he doesn’t think anyone, much less Dream himself, can peel off, and it’s scary, it’s scary and unsettling and Tommy doesn’t remember him looking that way at the start of his enrolment at the school. He’s changed.

His hand grazes over the scar on his lip. They’ve all changed.

Dream had been inhuman on that night in a frightening way. He’s inhuman now, but people envy him for it - it’s graceful, beautiful to watch. He glides over the stage like he’s flying and performs the most impossible moves like they’re second nature to him and people stare.

Tommy stares too. Under his own envy and dislike of the older boy, something rings hollow and painful inside him.

“He’s so good,” Tubbo says again as Dream’s dance finishes to rounds of applause, “don’t you think?”

Dream’s masked face tilts in their direction like a doll’s head, and Tommy’s skin crawls. He’s looking straight at him.

“Too good,” he mutters, and lets Tubbo interpret it as jealousy.

It’s easier than him knowing it’s concern.

#> my asks !!#> writing !!#> my writing !!#> dance school au #tw trauma #tw unhealthy eating habits #tw unhealthy eating #tw dehumanisation #tw unhealthy coping mechanisms #tw self destructive behavior #tw emotional distress #tw mental instability

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solarwonux · 4 years ago

Text

Sugar || Wonwoo

gamer!wonwoo x f!reader

w.c: 2.2k

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, fluff

note: this is one of my fav one shots I have written lol, its so cute and fluffy and honestly who does not love gamer!wonwoo!!!! Anyway, I hope you like this one it is one of my older ones but a good one (i think), let me know your thoughts <3

drabble game || masterlist

You could hear Wonwoo cursing in his office at his computer screen for what seemed like the hundredth time that night, driving you insane. Normally, you wouldn’t have minded, watching him react to the game he was playing was one of your favorite sources of entertainment. And It was no wonder people tuned in twice a week to watch him play while he streamed.

But tonight, you were due to finish your senior thesis and the words weren’t coming in. You had spent all day working around your apartment, turning over sentences in your head as you thought of ways to finish off your thesis. But when you had sat down in front of your coffee table to finally begin writing after finishing all the chores you had tasked yourself in doing. Your mind went blank. You had spent the following hours writing and rewriting growing even more frustrated when you realized that you had hit a wall.

Slamming your laptop shut, you rested your head on top of your coffee table, tracing over the lines in the wood with your index finger. Listening to Wonwoo’s laughter as he continued talking to his webcam, cursing whenever something didn’t go his way. You sighed wishing you weren’t contemplating barging into the office and pulling out the power chord to his gaming set up, as a means to silence him. Though you knew it would just lead to a fight and as annoyed as you were, that was the last thing you wanted.

Sighing, you got up from your spot on the floor and walked slowly to the office and gently knocked on the door. You wrapped your cardigan around your torso tightly while you waited for him to open it. You knew asking him to keep it down was useless, considering that it hadn't worked before, but you were out of options.

“Yes, baby.” Wonwoo smiled at you widely once he had finished opening the door. His headset around his neck, his round glasses slowly sliding off the bridge of his nose and his hair sticking up in places he had tugged on out of frustration.

“How long are you gonna stay on tonight?” You leaned up running a delicate hand through his hair attempting to fix it.

“Not sure…Seungcheol on too and we just started playing this new game that came out.” He finished pushing his glasses up his nose. “Why, what’s wrong?” He reached over smoothing over the creases that had formed between your brows.

“Umm…it’s nothing.” You shook your head. “But could you at least try to keep it down a little.” You pouted forming prayer hands in front of you. Wonwoo chuckled and pecked your lips softly. “I’ll try, have you finished your thesis yet?”

“Almost.” You smiled widely, hating yourself for lying to him, knowing that if you had told him the truth, he would’ve shut down the game and sat with you until you finished. And you couldn’t do that to him knowing how excited he got for his streams. Remembering how he kept tabs on comments that he’d find funny just so he’d be able to tell you about them later.

“Does that mean you’ll come sit with me when you finish.” He rubbed soothing circles on your chin as he looked down at you with that certain look you could never say no too. “Mhm.” You nodded and pecked his nose making him scrunch it up. “Now go before someone thinks you’ve gone missing.” You shoved him into the room lightly making him laugh.

“Impossible, they know I’m with my crazy, beautiful, sexy, cool girlfriend.” He winked at you as he sat down in his gaming chair, throwing you a kiss as he put on his headset again. You closed the door shaking your head, sighing in frustration as you leaned your forehead against it. Wishing you didn’t care and support Wonwoo’s hobby that had quickly turned into his second job as much as you did.

Knowing you weren’t going to get anywhere with your thesis, you decided to go take a shower. Hoping the hot water hitting your tense muscles will help clear the whirlwind going on in your head.

Feeling a lot lighter after your shower you wrapped a towel around your body. You walked out of your fogged-up bathroom and went to your dresser sitting down. Grabbing your body butter and lathering it around on your legs slowly kneading out the tension, then doing the same to the rest of your body. Once you finished you picked up your towel that had fallen onto the floor and before you could wrap it around yourself again, Wonwoo cursed loudly causing you to jump. You sighed and stormed out of your bedroom, opening up the door to the office and throwing your towel angrily at him.

“What the hell baby?” He exclaimed, jumping slightly from his chair angrily clicking on his computer mouse. “I’m in the middle of a game.” He groaned doing a double-take the second he realized you were standing naked with your hands on your waist in the doorway. You watched as he nervously scrambled taking off his headset and covering his webcam with his hands as quickly as possible, his going wide. “What are you doing, go put on some clothes.” He yelled, whispering.

“I asked you to keep it down…why are you being so loud today?” You said moving your arms around before bringing them to settle on to your hips again.

Wonwoo swallowed and looked down at his computer monitor, you could hear the gunshots from the game and Seungcheol calling out for Wonwoo telling him he needed back up. “Sorry, sorry, sorry…but you can’t just barge in here lookin’ like that.” He stared at you, his bottom lip slowly making its way in between his teeth as he looked over you slowly.

“Why not, they can’t see me.” You challenged stepping into the room. Wonwoo walked back tripping over his gaming chair as he tried to keep his hands on the webcam. “Well now they can’t, I’m covering it.” He retorted, his body at an awkward angle as you stood right in front of the monitor. “Maybe it’s a good thing they see, it’ll teach you to listen to me when I tell you things.” You said putting your hand over his hand feeling his hold on the webcam tighten. “Bet Seungcheol will listen to me if I was standing in front of him like this.” You whispered giving him a sultry look before running out of the room giggling.

You stood outside the hallway with your back against the wall as you listened to Wonwoo frantically try to cut his stream short. “Umm…s-sorry guys something came up, I’ll be back next week.”

“Wonwoo you pussy don’t leave me al—” You heard Seungcheol yell through the mic, getting cut off when Wonwoo shut everything down. You heard the sound of his headset gently hit his keyboard. You leaned over peaking your head in as you watched Wonwoo angrily run his fingers through his hair before looking over at you. “You little minx…get in here.” He demanded as he started walking towards you. You giggled and started running away into your bedroom, while he followed.

You threw yourself on your bed and waited for Wonwoo. “Hi Woo, what’s wrong?” You asked laying down the minute he walked into the room.

“Don’t you have a thesis to finish…what are you getting me so worked up for?” He said bringing his t-shirt over his head and throwing it somewhere in the room.

“I don’t think that was me, baby, that was your stupid games’ doing.” You sat up \on your elbows watching as he continued to undress.

“Do you know how dangerous that was…I could’ve been reported for nudity if you were caught.” He said as he finished taking off his boxers and climbed onto the bed.

“It’s a good thing you weren’t.” You giggled, Wonwoo rolled his eyes and turned you over so you were now laying on your stomach. You felt his palm come down onto your ass causing you to moan out. He leaned down and bit one of your cheeks, a small inaudible gasp leaving your mouth making him smirk against your skin. “If you wanted to play all you had to do was ask love.” He spoke against your skin and slowly kissed his way up your body, reaching over to move your drying hair away from your neck.

“You only ever want to play your games.” You moaned out as you felt him suck onto your neck harshly, feeling another slap land on your ass. “That’s not true…this will always be my favorite game.” He bit your earlobe sneaking a hand around your front resting his hand over your neck. “What do you say baby…want to play?” He tightened his hold around your neck making you gasp.

“mhm, yes please.” You moaned feeling his free hand teasingly run down his back, his knees parting your legs. “Always so respectful for me aren’t you.” He said sneaking his hand in between your legs. “And wet.” He moaned, coating his fingers with your arousal, teasing you slowly.

“Now tell me, love, was this what you wanted when you rudely interrupted me?” Wonwoo removed his hand from around your neck and tugged at your hips bringing you up to your knees.

“N-No.” You whimpered, feeling the head of his cock run through your folds. “I find that hard to believe. You’re all clean and moisturized and wet for me, baby.” He groaned and pressed his head onto your clit. “Just look at how hard you have me.” He finished pushing himself in slowly. You arched your back moaning, feeling yourself stretch around him.

For months your busy schedules had been getting in the way. He has his job at Woozi’s record company and his twitch streams two times a week. And you with your part-time job at the publishing company and going to night classes to finish up your masters, that by the time any of you would get home all you wanted to do was sleep.

“Woo, it’s been too long please move.” You choked out feeling his veins throbbing against your silky walls. “Anything for you my angel.” He grunted snapping his hips into you hard making you scream out his name. Feeling your arms start to give out as the pleasure continued to course through your body, you leaned down on your forearms.

His hips hitting your backside hard yet slowly as he sensually rode out the pleasure the two of you were currently feeling. His cock throbbing the more the two of you started reaching for your high. “I-I’ve missed you.” He moaned breathlessly leaning his body over yours digging his fingers into your hips roughly. He buried his head into the crook of your neck as he continued to ram himself into you. You turned your head to the side and kissed him messily biting his lower lip roughly. “I missed you too.” You gasped feeling him hit the sweet spot you knew he loved to play with.

Both of your moans mix with the sound of your skin against his, bounced of your bedroom walls. The headboard of the bed slamming into the wall creating small dents that you were sure you would worry about in the morning. Along with the noise complaint letters you would get during the week from all the angry tenants living in your apartment building. But you could care less, the only thing that mattered was the delicious spread going on in between your legs.

“Touch yourself b-baby,” Wonwoo demanded, feeling the loss of his skin against your back as he lifted up his body. You snaked your hand between your legs and rubbed your clit roughly, as Wonwoo sped up his movements. He set a foot on your bed reaching a new angle in you making you arch your back in pleasure as he helped you chase your high. The coil of pleasure spirals until you burst around him screaming out his name in pleasure. You panted bottoming out looking up over your shoulder whimpering as Wonwoo pulled out of you, releasing his load onto your back milking himself out.

He gave your ass a little tap signaling for you to lay down on your stomach again. He panted laying down next to you putting an arm underneath his head and the other on your upper back. “So much for finishing my thesis tonight.” You said trying to catch your breath.

Wonwoo laughed, shaking his head, drawing small patterns on your shoulders with his thumb. “That’s on you baby.” He leaned over kissing your nose. “Are you feeling better?”

You looked up at him raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean Woo, I’m not sick.”

He sighed, turning his body to face you. “No, but you were stressed out, I could tell the second I came home and when you told me to keep it down the first time.” He brought his hand up over and rubbed soothing circles around your flushed-out cheek. You nodded burying your face into his chest. “I’m feeling a lot better…thank you.”

“Good, now let me run you a bath and then we can sit down together and finish your thesis…does that sound okay?” He scrunched up his nose at a poor attempt to push his glasses up. You smiled helping him and kissed his lips softly.

“Sounds amazing love.”

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missskzbiased · 4 years ago

Text

Forget me not

Genre: Fluff, Romance, Oneshot, Drabble, Established Relationship! au

Pairing: Kim Seungmin x Fem! Reader

Word Count: ~2,3K

Notes: The seventh fanfic for the Valentine’s request [That you can find here]

I don’t know anything about flowers language! So if it’s wrong, please blame google SUHAHUSAHUSHUAHUSA

Chan || Minho || Changbin || Hyunjin || Han || Felix || Seungmin || Jeongin

Masterlist

Requested: Yes, by 💎anon [I hope you like it! I don’t think I’d ever think of something like scavenger hunt for a plot lol, so it was kinda challenging. I did like to write it, and I hope it meets your expectations! <3]

General Tag List: @channiewoo @aliceu @bythesunnotbythemoon

[If you wish to be tagged to the other Valentine’s requests, please send me an ask <3]

///

You pouted at your empty bed.

You and Seungmin had planned to spend the day with each other, celebrating your fifth Valentine’s day together, and yet he was nowhere to be seen. You missed his warmth as soon as you woke up, a soft pillow under your arm instead of his body. You frowned, still kinda drowsy as you get up from bed, wandering around the house to look for him.

“Come one, Seungmin! This isn’t funny” You whined in the middle of your living room, swiveling your head to get a clue but meeting nothing else than a pile of waffles on your table. You approached them, poking the warm and soft pieces twice, humming as you tasted the syrup… He wasn’t long gone.

Maybe you should wait for him? Did he go out to buy some milk or something? Maybe he was trying to make you a romantic breakfast? You sat down, staring at the food before noticing a pink note attached to the plate. You would finally get some answers!

I made you some waffles… This time I didn’t burn them! Haha. Please, eat well. I love you. Yours, one (first) and only Seungmin.

You arched your brow, confused as to why Seungmin would scratch a correct phrasing to place a “first” there, but too tired to really care. You took a bite from the waffles, humming in appreciation. He did really get much better at this!

You chuckled as the memory came back to you.

The burnt smell spread all over the place, waking you up and alarming you. The panicked squeak that you heard from the kitchen didn’t help much to placate your fears, so you rushed there, stumbling all around the place. You would have expected anything but Seungmin standing in your kitchen ─ ashamed eyes snapping at you in a silent apology ─ with a plate of black pancakes, surrounded by a thin smoke.

The first time he slept over and wanted to do you a surprise.

You got better at this, hm? Didn’t even burn down my house this time! You messaged him, chuckling as you munched another piece, eyes fixed on your phone to not miss his answer.

There is a first for everything! He answered, making you roll your eyes playfully. What a silly guy. Ready to come and meet me?

I missed you here with me… You typed, pursing your lips as you sent him the message. Was it too cheesy? Are we going on a date today?

First, you have to meet me! He said, and you almost could hear him giggling excitedly wherever he was. It’s Scavenger time, kitten! I promised you this Valentine’s would be really special, didn’t I?

Scavenger as in a scavenger hunt? You chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief. And you’re my prize? How conceited… You mocked him, getting up from the table to go to your room and get changed.

He didn’t answer your messages after that.

////

You crossed your arms over your chest.

Were you being too naïve? You stared at the door unsurely, rubbing your chin in wonder. Seungmin was witty and he liked to drop subtle hints around… Were you being too conspirational or were you on spot? He wouldn’t keep repeating “first” all around if it didn’t mean anything, right? The “casual” choice of words was quite suspicious as well… He never called you a kitten before.

Coincidence or not, the first time you met each other was here.

A cat adoption center.

The first time you met Seungmin, you were going to adopt a cat to gift your best friend. They just loved cats and you couldn’t help but think it was the perfect gift. You were right indeed, but up to this date, your friend joked around saying that Seungmin was the best gift they could have given to you.

You gathered your courage to get in the place, looking around to see if you could see him anywhere. He was nowhere to be seen. Unsurprisingly, though, Minho came right in your way, an amused smirk playing on his lips. You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Do you know what is this all about?” You asked suspicious of him.

“No, Seungmin knew he couldn’t trust me with a secret” He chortled “The only thing I know is that he’s being cheesy and asked me to hand you this” He said, extending a small envelope to you.

The first time we ever met… Do you still remember it? Although you can never let him know, I’m forever grateful to Minho for dragging me with him there. Even if his whole point was for me to see that cats were better than dogs. They’re not. You can tell it to him now if you want. Still, it is thanks to him that I ever landed my eyes on you. It’s also thanks to him that we got our first date… You know where you should be going now, right? No need to worry, no one will spill their soda on you!

P.S.: If it does happen for some reason, I didn’t plan it. Please don’t hit me.

You chuckled, lifting your eyes to Minho playfully.

“Sorry, but cats suck” He scoffed at you, rolling his eyes.

“He’s brainwashing you, Y/N!” He jokingly complained, poking your forehead, “Go away!” He whined, pushing you to the door “And if he asks, I didn’t tell anything about Hyunjin”

“But you didn’t tell me anything about Hyunjin” You frowned, getting an unimpressed look from him “Oh!” You chortled “Thank you, Minho! It’ll help me a lot” You waved at him, getting out of the store.

////

This time you just walked confidently into the store.

You looked around to find Hyunjin, already aware that Seungmin wouldn’t be waiting for you there. You peeked at the clothes displayed, chuckling as you remember your first date with Seungmin.

Although both of you were nervous back then, Seungmin was a whole new kind of a mess. The way he got startled when his fingers brushed yours over the shared French fries would forever be carved in your mind as his most hilarious reaction to anything ever. Unfortunately, the soda he spilled over you would also be forever there on your favorite blouse… One could not only win, right?

“Oh, you’re here!” Hyunjin smiled at you, walking your way “How is it going? Are you liking to play detective?” He chortled, looking for something through his pockets.

“He’s being too cute for a simple Valentine’s Day” You pointed out to see if Hyunjin would give anything away but he just shrugged “Seungmin was always the hopeless romantic, though” You acknowledged, getting a humming from him.

“I won’t tell you anything, I’m not Minho” He snorted.

“Come one! I want to know what’s going on!” You whined.

“Then solve everything and meet him!” He retorted playfully, handing you the next letter before walking away.

I hope no one had spilled anything on your clothes today… If someone did, though, I have a surprise for you. Hyunjin should be back with it in no time. Even though that first date was a mess, I’m happy we had so many others after that so I could redeem myself. I had never been so nervous in my whole life, and I think deep down I already knew you were special. I know I’m the one who’s doing this to me, but I wish I could be there to kiss you right now. For me, every single kiss we shared was as tender and full of love as the first one… But the first was what brought us together, and I hope it will bring you back to me once more.

You smiled softly as the warmth spread over your chest.

You didn’t even need to try and get this out of Hyunjin… You knew exactly where to go now. You raised your eyes to meet a goofy Hyunjin showing you an outfit too similar to the one you wore on your first date with Seungmin.

“Put this on before you go!” He chirped.

////

The bus stop was empty.

You made your way to the bench, a sigh leaving your lips as you looked fondly at the place, a nostalgic Feeling engulfing you. The first kiss you shared was rushed and unsure, a bold way to make up for the words you couldn’t speak up. The insecurities were offset by the overflowing feelings that were enough to reassure both of your hearts.

You still remembered how you got on the bus, upset by the lack of attitude from Seungmin. Didn’t he like you? Because you sure as hell liked him! Couldn’t he just make a move? Anything? You sighed when you turned away, stepping inside the vehicle with nothing but disappointment in your heart. Maybe he didn’t like you as much as you liked him…

Then it hit you.

What if he felt just the same way as you?

When you snapped your body to turn away and get back to him, he was already there to catch you. Apparently, the same thought had occurred to him, and his arms wrapped you up as your lips met half-way. The initially rushed kiss turned into a loving and tender one rather quickly as soon as you realized that both of you weren’t going anywhere.

Well, except that the bus driver kinda needed you to go or stay.

The ride home was filled with a cozy feeling as you nuzzled each other.

You sauntered there mindlessly, sitting on the bench before looking around curiously, noticing a poster hanging on the wall. You narrowed your eyes in suspicion, noticing how familiar the couple on the picture looked like. It was you two. Seungmin held your hand, and it was painfully obvious how he was stiff and anxious there while you had no clue of what was going on, smiling brightly at the picture.

The restaurant where he confessed his feeling for you.

The place where both of you finally got together.

You chuckled, knowing exactly what bus you should be riding right now.

////

Seungmin was waiting for you with a small flower.

“You’re here” He stated quite awkwardly, and you couldn’t help but tilt your head in confusion. It sounded like he wasn’t happy to see you “You’re… You look amazing” He said emotionally, and you burst out laughing.

“You don’t look bad as well” You teased, checking him out “I’d even say you’re the most handsome boyfriend I have ever met” You chuckled, getting closer to him to place a kiss on his lips.

He didn’t let you.

Seungmin extended his hand to you, shoving the flower in your hands.

“What is it? Another clue?” You asked confused, looking at the small plant. You didn’t know much about flowers, but you recognized it as a forget-me-not. Only Lord knows why you would know it, though.

“Y/N…” He cleared his throat, loosening up his collar “I brought you here today because…” He took a deep breath “Because here was the place I finally confessed my feelings for you” He finished, kinda proud of himself for managing to say that much.

He took one step ahead, holding your hands on his.

“I know you’re a big fan of Scavenger Hunts… But it wasn’t the only reason why I made this” He continued, a little bit more at ease as you smiled at him encouragingly “First, in this entire world… Meeting you was the best thing that could ever happen to me. Finding you? It was the right place and right time… And you’re the right person for me… On this scavenger hunt of life, you’re the only one I’d ever want” He pursed his lips.

What did you do to deserve him?

“I-I’m giving this flower to you…” He gulped down, eyes wavering as he tried to focus on yours “Because it means true love…” You cooed at him, expression softening as you felt your heart swelling “It’s to remember all those memories we shared… And how we’re here now, how our love grew with time… It’s to say that this isn’t a spark” He squeezed your hands, eyes finally fixing on yours.

“Seungmin… This is beautif—“ You teared up, but he didn’t let you finish.

“We had many first times together… And I treasure and remember every single one of them… They’re memories that I never want to let go” He continued, and you could feel his hands shaking “But more important than having first times… I want you to be all of my firsts and last times for everything… I want to have two, three, four… A hundred of experiences with you”

He let go of your hand, wiping his hands on his pants.

“I truly love you, Y/N” He choked, getting on one knee. You widened your eyes, startled by the slow yet too sudden motion, the tears immediately making their way to your eyes “There is no one else I want to share my life with… This was the place where I first asked you to be mine… And this is the place where I want to ask you to be mine till the end”

You tried to wipe your tears away, face twisting in a crying frown that would look awful on the photos people were taking of you. It didn’t matter though. Nothing else mattered because Seungmin was on his knee, showing you a small box that contained the symbol of all your love and connection.

“Y/N… Will you marry me?” He asked, tears rolling down his face.

You would never even dare to say no.

#skz fanfic #skz fluff #skz x reader #skz scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #kim seungmin fanfic #kim seungmin fluff #kim seungmin x reader #seungmin fanfic #seungmin fluff #seungmin x reader #seungmin scenarios #seungmin imagines #💎anon

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joyfulhopelox · 3 years ago

Text

“Didn’t you know that clowns can get away with murder?”

Pairing: Hoseok x reader (general au- could be idol or non-idol, established relationship)

Summary: For your summer vacation you and Hoseok travel to a town near the sea, however, you were not the only ones that had just arrived in that town. So had the circus. With a human that is startled by everything little and a human who has a distaste for clowns, what could go wrong? Part of @bangtanwritingbingo event 2/25 (square: circuses)

Warnings: mentions of animal cruelty as the reader is heavily against it, clowns and just circus atmosphere in general (i have to mention i have a massive phobia of clowns)

Genre: fluff

Rating: g

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: it was difficult for me to portray a fun circus atmosphere as i am actually terrified of it, i considered changing my square but i decided to challenge myself. And i hit not only one milestone but two. I kept it as a drabble and i managed to write it! I hope it is as enjoyable to read! I'm always happy to hear feedback!

Copywrights @joyfulhopelox for both the work and the banner

When you agreed to this fallacy, you were convinced you could take it. Turns out, you were severely mistaken. Not only were you gripped by fear and disgust, but you also had to deal with an immobile Hoseok next to you.

“Hey” you shook his stunned form with no avail.

Sighing, you decided to give him a couple more minutes. Maybe he’ll snap out of it on his own. You doubted he would but it never hurts to hope does it? You turned back to the sight before you only to grimace. It could have been worse, it could have been a haunted house. You’re certain then your boyfriend wouldn’t have any chances of survival. The circus? He could maybe get over it.

But could you?

That is why you agreed to his preposterous idea. He presented it to you as “let’s try to beat this fear”. And he also offered you an incredibly wide and hopeful smile. Who were you to resist that?

And so the beginning to what you would’ve hoped to be a fun summer, started with a trip to the sea. You and Hoseok decided that a small get away was needed by both of you. So you booked a hotel, packed your bags and here you were. Once you got there you discovered that the beginning of summer not only meant school was ending and so the number of children increased; but also that the circus had made a summer comeback in the city.

Hoseok decided to be spontaneous, in the oddest of ways. As soon as he saw the deceivingly colorful poster he pointed at it. “Let’s go for it”. To say you stared at him as if he’s grown a second head would be an understatement.

“Hobi, you sure you want to go there?” You asked unsure of how to approach the subject. You weren’t calling him a scaredy-cat, but you were trying to gently remind him how easily startled he gets. He nods enthusiastically. “Yes, see it as facing our fears”

And facing them you are. But it looks like you are on the losing side. Hoseok, to his credit, managed to make it past the entrance and the colourful stands that were selling overpriced cotton candy and street food. However, as soon as he had set his eyes on the big tent looming over your heads you could physically see his determination wavering. Clammy hands and the audible gulp were an instant giveaway.

You managed to hold yourself together a bit better so you gripped his hand tighter in an attempt to lend him some of your warmth. It seemed to work because in the next second you had made it past the entrance and stood next to the auditorium looking for your seats. Upon finding them you let out a groan and shared a worried look with your boyfriend.

You weren’t easily startled per se, but this was an animal and clowns circus. You had loathed the idea of clowns ever since you were little. But most importantly you abhorred the idea of an animal circus. Fully aware that most of them tended to treat them horribly, you have always advocated against them.

“Love, it will be ok. Maybe as this is a new circus, maybe they are not as bad as other ones.” You knew Hoseok was doing his best to soothe you even if the uncertainty was still ringing clear in his voice. You decided not to argue against that as it would not help you or him. Instead you looked at him and at his worried eyes and you gave him a small smile. You hoped it looked reassuring enough to not display how constipated you were feeling on the inside about the whole situation.

“You are right, here to face our fears. And we did it, see, we are inside and seated. Everything will be fine from now on.” This time it was his turn to squeeze your hand and show you his bright smile. Leaning over towards you he gave you a light peck on the forehead causing you to giggle.

“Hobi stoooop, that tickles” finding amusement in your plight he carries on raining pecks all over your face. The sound of your laughter instantly chased away his fears and replaced them with warmth and comfort.

“I love you” he whispers in your hair and you grin at him in response. You don’t get a chance to say more because suddenly a loud voice booms announcing the start of the show. Both of your heads snap towards the stage and you grip each other’s hands tighter.

Disaster would not even describe how it all went. There is hardly a description for the chaotic, panicked, jumpy mess that your boyfriend had become. On top of that you could feel the blood boiling in your veins and you had been ready more than once to storm either out of the venue or in the face of the animal tamer. They had not used a whip to harm the animals, luckily for you…. Or them. But they had a riding crop that they had used on the horses on multiple occasions. You had to glue yourself to the seat multiple times and resist the urge to cause a scene. Hoseok’s anxious jumps were enough to keep you in place and so you stayed next to him, your hands intertwined tightly. At one point during the clown show, which you assumed was funny due to the laughter ringing through the audience, you felt your boyfriend let go of your hand to envelop your waist instead. As soon as you heard a whimpered sigh from him you decided that enough was enough. There was no reason for either of you to endure this.

“Love, lets go” making him let go of your waist you gripped his wrist firmly and dragged him out of the seat.

The light breeze outside carried whiffs of the sea and you managed to calm down instantly. Turning to look at your boyfriend, you noted he still looked pasty white.

“Hey, you ok?” You placed your hands on his cheeks gently. Not saying anything for a few seconds, his eyes locked onto yours. Finally he nodded.

“Yeah, just… lets never do that again. The clowns are terrifying.” the colour was returning slowly to his face. You huffed and gave him a determined nod.

“Of course we are never doing that again. Didn’t you know that clowns can get away with murder?” you quoted seriously, “and plus, I’d rather eat mint chocolate ice cream than do that again.”

You knew you had managed to distract him from the traumatic experience when he gave you a pointed glare.

“You take that back?”

“Or what?” You stuck your tongue out at him playfully. Smirking, he made grabby fingers towards you. Knowing what that meant you took a few hesitant steps back.

“Hoseok i swear…. If you even think about tickling me…”

“Then take that back” he threatens.

“Nope, mint chocolate is not a flavour of anything but toothpaste” you shake your head adamantly.

“That’s it” he takes off after your shrieking form, the circus experience long forgotten by the both of you.

Main masterlist

#bangtansummerbingo #btshoneyhive #bts x reader #btswritingbingo #jhope x reader #jhope fic #hoseok #hoseok x reader #jhope x y/n #writing bingo #jhope fluff #bts fic #g: fluff #i write because i enjoy it #photo

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 4 years ago

Note

that hfy headcanon/drabble/oneshot (i dont really know the difference lmao) was amazing!! i recall u writing about hfy bucky how he ignores and brushes off women whenever they flirt with him bc hes obvs with y/n. but what would happen if bucky and y/n ran into buckys old flings/one night stands & what would happen if they started flirting & trying too hard/were being rude to y/n (i recall u wrote that she once recieved a bad look from a girl before in a hc u wrote & some girls are awful lol)

Howlin’ For You – Masterlist

Bucky & Y/N handling jealously

But yes, Dot glared at Y/N in the series when Y/N accidentally crashed a barbecue at Bucky’s house.

“Where’s Y/N at?” Sam asked Bucky as he gripped Bucky’s shoulder.

“Hello to you too, asshole,” Bucky answered as he leaned on the bar, patiently waiting for Wanda to get to him.

“You know we all like her more than you, don’t act surprised,” Sam joked.

“She’s just finished up at work. She’ll be here soon.”

Sam nodded and went back to the group after his so-called greeting to Bucky.

Wanda was finally able to give Bucky his drink without even asking what he wanted.

“Well, well, well... if it isn’t the infamous Bucky Barnes,” a sultry voice said behind Bucky.

He tensed a little bit, slightly recognizing the female voice.

He turned to find a past fling. Or more so, past flings.

Her name was Candace.

She had light blonde hair, but insisted on dying it grease black for some reason. Natasha once described her as trashy, though Bucky never commented on that. She was a woman who dressed more for men than for herself, which Bucky didn’t mind – (obviously.)

It was a friends-with-benefits type of relationship. Though Bucky didn’t even really consider her a friend. They were both attracted to each other, the sex was good... but it was never anything more than a very casual relationship. It ended a few months before Y/N moved to town.

Bucky hadn’t really thought about her at all since then.

“Hey, Candace. How ya been?” He asked her.

“What? Not even so much as a hug or a kiss on the cheek?” She played up her defense.

Bucky laughed lightly and stepped forward to give her a quick hug.

“What are you doing here?” He then asked.

The only time she’d been at this bar was when Bucky would tell her to meet him there. He was always some form of drunk and it was always a booty call.

“Oh, some friends dragged me here,” she said half-heartedly. “But now I’m glad they did.”

Then she stepped closer to him.

Too close for Bucky’s liking.

“It’s been too long, Bucky...” she practically whispered to him.

He instantly took a step back. “It’s not like that anymore, Candace. I’m sorry.” Then he cleared his throat. “I have a girlfriend.”

Candace playfully rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I heard. Didn’t really believe the rumors, if I’m being honest.”

“Well, believe it,” he answered, probably sounding harsher than he meant to be.

“Oh, come on. Everyone knows it’s not that serious...” Candace cooed. This time she gripped his shoulders and used his weight to pull herself closer.

Bucky glared at her then and took her hands off of his shoulder. “Candace, I’m being serious...” He growled in warning.

He was trying to be a gentleman while also making it brutally clear that he wanted nothing to do with her.

“Bucky?” Wanda called from the bar.

He was caught off guard by her trying to get his attention.

When he turned to her, Wanda was pushing forward a drink that looked disgustingly milky and then a shot that Bucky didn’t even want to know what it was.

“The fuck is this?” He asked.

“Horse Jizz and a tape worm shot,” Wanda explained as she cringed.

Bucky opened his mouth to ask for more of an explanation.

“Sent over from Y/N,” Wanda added before he could say anything more.

Then she nodded over into the corner of the bar.

Bucky’s stomach flipped when he turned to see that Y/N was very much at the bar. Somehow she snuck in and must’ve seen Bucky getting groped and hit on by a woman, and decided to go to his friends instead of trying to stake her claim.

He met eyes with Y/N, who looked merely disappointed.

She was standing with Sam and Thor, who both properly glared at Bucky on her behalf.

“Fuck,” Bucky hissed, knowing the damage had already been done.

He shoved past Candace, ignoring anything she said to try and regain his attention.

To his annoyance, both Thor and Sam acted as human shields.

“Seriously? Both of you?” Bucky accused his two friends.

“It’s fine, guys,” Y/N told them quietly.

Only then did they stand down.

But she was clearly pissed and nothing about the situation was funny or amusing to her.

“Doll, I can explain,” Bucky told her when he finally had her to himself.

“Funny! That’s what every asshole in the movies always says when he’s caught,” she snapped back.

“We used to mess around, back in the day. It was nothing serious. We never even went on a date. It was just sex.”

Y/N scoffed. “Oh, is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“No, it’s not. I’m just... I’m trying to be honest, Y/N.”

“Were you trying to be honest with her? Because it looks like whatever you were saying, she couldn’t take a hint...”

But instead of getting frustrated, Bucky realized that was no way to handle the situation.

So, instead, he stepped forward, and with purpose.

“If you’re jealous right now... you’ve got no reason to be, Y/N.” Then he stepped even closer. He completely invaded her space now. “There’s no one else but you, doll. They don’t mean shit to me, you hear me?”

Y/N seemed taken aback by his new approach.

“They don’t mean anything...because you mean everything. OK?”

Y/N didn’t even realize she was nodding.

Bucky grabbed her jaw and kissed her. He took his sweet time, not giving a shit who was watching them. In fact, he hoped Candace was watching, so she would leave him the hell alone.

When they finally pulled apart, Y/N was frowning at him. “They all want a piece of you...”

It was true. Women who were adjacent to their culture, their lifestyle...they all saw Bucky as some sort of twisted objective. He was a king to them, the ultimate alpha male. Whether it was long term or just one night, women threw themselves at him.

“It’s not me they want,” Bucky corrected her. “They’ve just got their ideas.”

“Yeah?” Y/N challenged. “So what do I have then?”

“You’ve got me,” he told her. “The real me. The me they don’t know a lick about. And you always will.”

Y/N smiled at that.

But then it dropped quickly. “She’s still seen you naked though...”

“Well, later tonight, I promise I’ll make you forget all about that part,” Bucky whispered huskily as his hands wrapped around her to grip her ass.

Y/N kissed him again and playfully bit his lip, reminding him that she was the one in control of all this.

#howlin' for you #howlin' for you asks #howlin' for you headcanons #howlin' for you questions #howlin' for you drabbles #howlin' for you one shots #biker!buck #biker!bucky x reader

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therealcalicali · 4 years ago

Text

Of Bards and Bastards

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Warnings: None

Type: Drabble

Wordcount: 1,638

This is for @rosepetals-flyingbirds Writing Challenge.

Prompts: Dogs are better than People/You’re a bastard

Geralt had no desire to reside at your family’s quant Inn with adjacent Tavern. However, he was a man that disliked having his ear talked off. So after many days of being pestered by Jaskier, he gave in. And it was a good thing too. Because not only had the two men been sleeping rough for weeks, but the weather had turned.

So needless to say, they were lucky to happen upon your township.

“Welcome to The Laughing Archer.” Your Aunt quipped with a pleasant smile. “I’m Ausalái and the wee thing behind the counter is my niece, Y/N. How can we be of help this evening?”

As she spoke, her ample cleavage caught Jaskier’s attention. Though to be fair, he did his best to not make it obvious. Because despite her being rather slender, your Aunt was buxom. Not that your Uncle ever complained.

“It is nice to meet you both. I’m Jaskier and this--------”

The larger man elbowed him in the ribs.

After warning the Bard numerous times to desist being sociable, it was obvious that he had learned nothing. Thus, Geralt decided it was best to take over.

“We require two rooms.” He said, his voice more of a low rumble than anything.

“Two?” Jaskier repeated, his eyes twinkling with surprise. “Geralt, either you have been lying for weeks, or we are flushed in coin. I figured it was all spent since we’ve been sleeping upon grass like farm animals.”

Ignoring the jest, the large man opened handed five pieces of silver to your Aunt. Enough for food and drink for four days.

“Are you a Knight, Ser?” You asked as you stepped forward. “I myself have never taken up sword as of yet. However, everyone says I’m a marvel with the bow and arrow. My Uncle trains me every----------.”

“The rooms.” Geralt gruffly interrupted, utterly ignoring every word that had come from your lips.

And you thought him rude for it, he was a patron. Thus, you simply nodded and bid them to follow.

After showing the men their lodgings, you went in search of fresh linens. But as you were descending the stairs, Jaskier asked if he could trouble you for honeyed milk. To which Geralt promptly rolled his eyes. But you had always been hospitable.

So despite it being rather late, you promised to bring a surprise to go with his desired beverage.

“I will have you know that aside from my Archery skills, I’m also known to be handy in the kitchens. But you shall see for yourself.” You added.

“Thank you kindly, Y/N. I can hardly wait.” Jaskier replied, clasping his hand in anticipation.

As soon as you were out of earshot, he went to Geralt’s door, which was located directly across from his own. He then knocked for some time before his burly companion finally appeared.

“What?”

“Is that a nice way to greet someone?”

Geralt promptly shut the door in Jaskier’s face. But he didn’t do so out of hatred. In fact, he had grown capable of tolerating the Bard’s peculiar temperament. However, after his recent skirmish with a Wayth Raider, he was in no mood for childish banter.

Still, Jaskier never could take a hint. So instead of returning to his own chamber, he entered uninvited.

“Why must you be.................you?” Jaskier asked. “First, you’re absolutely rude to that poor girl. And now, you direct your anger towards me.”

“Get out so I can rest.”

“See?”

Without replying, Geralt took a seat upon the bed. He then set his weapon aside and began unlacing his boots. Undeterred by the silence, Jaskier regaled him with his thoughts about the Inn. Declaring your Aunt a fetching woman, and you, a rare beauty.

“She just has that certain something one cannot explain.” The Bard added, his hands making random gestures. “Though pretty, she’s quite unaware of it. Which, in my eyes, makes her even more attractive.”

“Hmm.” Geralt scoffed as he threw a boot aside. He then started on the other, shaking his head in annoyance. “You pestered me for a proper resting place only to ogle women.”

“Do you ever stop grunting long enough to enjoy life?”

After clarifying that he never ogled, Jaskier declared that he only admired the fairer sex. And personally, he saw nothing wrong with it. But as expected, Geralt ignored his words.

“You behave as if you do not want companionship.” The Bard noted. “Even those of sour disposition want another person at their side.”

“Dogs are better than people.”

With a sigh, Jaskier agreed that humans could be treacherous. However, that did not mean one should resign themselves to a life of solitude. He then returned to discussing you once more. Declaring that you had the most cheerful disposition he had encountered in some time.

In fact, he planned to ask for Archery lessons in order to become better acquainted. Though Geralt chuckled inwardly at the notion, he remained silent.

“Lord Jaskier” You sang from the doorway. In your hand you held a platter of sweet cakes, sour loaf, and the requested honeyed milk. “As promised, I have come bearing morsels to fill your belly.”

“Y/N, you are an absolute sweetheart. Is all that for me?”

Your cheeks burned hot as you reminded him that they had paid for room and board. Thus, you were obligated to feed him well. Your eyes then went to the one called Geralt. And despite him being curt since their arrival, you asked if he too would like something from the kitchens.

“No.”

“Ignore my friend. He’s rather tired, so let us leave him to his sleep.” Jaskier said as he followed you out the door. “Besides, I wish to hear about life in this quant township. It seems rather lively from what I have seen thus far.”

The following morning, you woke early to assist with chores.

And as always, your Aunt and Uncle chastised you, insisting that you return to bed. Because despite not being your true parents, they had not taken you in to make you a servant. Nevertheless, you enjoyed helping the family business flourish. So, you kept to assisting the workers.

After helping the women clean the adjacent Tavern, you went to the kitchens. Indeed, you were thrilled about impressing the new lodgers. Thus, you set to work, gathering all manner of fresh ingredients. Even going so far as to enter the chicken coop that you typically avoided. Because despite eggs being a staple in most dishes, the chickens fought like hell to keep them.

“Y/N, you have the women cooking up a feast this morning.” Your Uncle exclaimed before stealing a piece of fried trout. “Just try not to overdo things.”

“I have told you before, I’m quite capable of running the kitchens.” You replied with a great smile. “Just make sure you return with adequate game for Suppertime.”

As he departed with his companions for a hunt, you checked to make sure the workers had things under control. When satisfied, you took the first dishes to the Inn’s dining area.

Since they had been residing longer, you first served the large party of Merchants before going to Jaskier and Geralt.

“I hope you slept well, Y/N. ” The Bard exclaimed, eager to delve into the first meal of the day. He then surveyed all you were setting before them. “Everything smells delightful. Ooh, what is the red delicacy there?”

“Pomegranate rolls filled with custard with strawberry molasses. It is a creation of my own doing.”

As you further explained the other dishes, Jaskier bit into a roll. Instantly, his eyes fluttered as if someone had rubbed his back. He then excitedly looked at Geralt.

“I know you dislike sweets. But you simply must try one of these” The Bard urged before taking another bite. “The girl’s hands are pure magic.”

“I’ll pass.” Geralt replied with brow raised.

He then lifted his mug of spiced ale and looked about the Inn. Naturally, you were somewhat hurt by his refusal. But you held your tongue and returned to the kitchens. After retrieving the second course, you served everyone with the same enthusiasm as before.

“Y/N, I hope this is not forward of me…” Jaskier began with some anxiety.

As he wavered, Geralt eyed him. From traveling together, he knew very well that the Bard was no competitor. So why he wished to trouble you, made little sense. Nevertheless, he decided to say nothing.

“Would you be keen to show me the basics of Archery? I mean, if you are not too busy with other things. Or people.”

“Of course, Lord Jaskier. It would be an honor to teach you.”

“Lord?” Geralt repeated.

Indeed, he realized that you truly believed his companion was of noble birth. So despite his usually stoic demeanor, he could not keep from chuckling.

“And what is so funny, Ser?” You asked.

“You.” Geralt replied as his intense gaze meeting yours. “Why assume him a Lord?”

“Because, he carries himself with dignity and kindness.” You replied with some irritation. “Besides, who’s to say that a Lord could not decide to become a Bard?”

“Quite the stupid assumption.”

“As you please, Ser. But I shall perceive your friend as I see fit. Would you like to know how I have come to perceive you?”

“Not particularly.”

There was a long silence, your ire festering as if time had stood still for ages. But eventually, you glared at the handsome boarder, refusing to let him have the last word.

“You’re a bastard!”

You then hastened to the kitchens; leaving Geralt perplexed and Jaskier laughing so hard, the other boarders began to stare.

#the witcher x reader #reader x the wticher #the witcher fanfics #the witcher fics #geralt of rivia x reader #reader x geralt #reader x geralt of rivia

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lady-divine-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Klaine Advent Drabble 2020 - “Take One” (Rated PG13)

Summary: Embroiled in the aftermath of two very messy break-ups, Kurt and Blaine are preparing to film their first love scene together. But how do you pretend to be in love when your love life is falling apart?

It probably doesn't hurt to be in love with your co-star then. (1982 words)

Notes: Written for the @klaineadvent Drabble Challenge 2020 prompt 'grey'.

Read on AO3.

“Ooo, I get a limo this time,” Kurt mumbles, not nearly as impressed as he’s pretending to be. But he needs to keep up appearances. Even though it’s the literal buttcrack of dawn, he’s not alone. There are about thirty asshats, armed with cameras, camped out on his doorstep, climbing over each other to snap a candid of him for the gossip sites. A photo of him emerging from his townhouse fresh-faced and ready for another day on set will fetch an easy couple hundred.

But if he looks like he rolled out of bed, drank a bottle of whiskey for breakfast, then fell down a flight of stairs, landing face-first onto a mountain of cocaine - those pictures would fetch considerably more.

That’s what he gets for going through a horrendous break-up while having the nerve to be rich and famous.

Despite how he feels about his life at this moment, he went for the former, not the latter. He would never touch hard drugs, not for any reason, and he can't justify looking less than his best.

Like a good friend once told him - never let them see you sweat.

“Kurt! Kurt Hummel! Over here!” the pariahs start calling, some of them whistling for his attention like he’s a dog. “Hummel! Hey, Hummel!”

Hummel.

That’s the one that gets him, burrows into the roots of his teeth and makes his whole head pulsate. It keeps his feet moving when he might have stopped to exchange a polite hello. Who talks to people like that? When did it become acceptable to bellow out someone’s last name as a means of getting their attention? Is it too much to ask for the respect of at least shoving a ‘Mr.’ in front of it? Have these glorified stalkers forgotten that if it weren’t for him and stars like him the only jobs they could get would be snapping photos of families for minimum wage at Six Flags?

Ugh.

Too much thinking too early in the morning.

He could write an essay on how much he loathes pap culture, but today, Kurt can’t be bothered caring.

He slaps on a smile and waves, sliding his glasses down his nose only far enough so they can’t see how red his eyes are from crying.

“Oh, hello! I didn’t see you all here! It’s so nice of you to greet me at 5:30 on this fine winter morning! Oh, careful there. You spilled your coffee. And I think you just kicked that poor young man in the face.”

Kurt greets his guests this way every morning, killing them with kindness, as subtle an eff you as he can come up with when his brain cells have yet to kick in for the day.

Coffee. He needs coffee. About a gallon-and-a-half of it.

Kurt glides through the crowd, an angelfish among sharks, and comes out unscathed.

A man with dark hair and olive skin, wearing a fitted, black uniform tailored to within an inch of its life, opens the car door for Kurt as he approaches.

"Good morning, Mr. Hummel."

“Good morning, Harold. It's nice to see you.” Kurt slides into the car, thankful when the chauffeur shuts the door. He sinks into the leather seat and tosses his sunglasses aside. “God!" he moans, burying his face in his hands. "I don't want to do this! I want to stay home and eat ice cream! I don’t want to kiss anyone today!”

Blaine, who had been waiting quietly and wearing a sympathetic smile, frowns. “Gee. Thanks.”

Kurt's head snaps up, his face splotchy and red in seconds. “Blaine! I’m so sorry! I didn’t know you were …! That’s not what I meant!" He takes a deep breath in, lets it out slowly. "It's not you. I just don’t feel particularly romantic today.”

“It’s okay. I know what you mean. I feel the same way.”

Kurt squares Blaine with a stern look. “Gee. Thanks.”

Blaine ducks his eyes, his cheeks turning pink as he pours Kurt a glass of champagne. There’s always champagne, no matter what vehicle the studio sends to pick them up. But Kurt and Blaine never avail themselves to it.

Today, however, Kurt thinks as he accepts the flute Blaine offers and takes a sip, is an exception.

“I didn’t know Harold was picking you up first,” Kurt says, starting small talk to ease the tension. Kurt and Blaine don’t usually have trouble making small talk.

But, again, today is an exception.

“Well ...” Blaine clears his throat, seems embarrassed “... I was just … you know … a few blocks down the way.”

Kurt sits up further, leans forward with interest. “So you did it. You moved out.”

“Yup,” Blaine replies quietly. “I couldn’t … I just couldn’t stay. Not after …” He stops and sniffles, turning his head to hide eyes that must be as red as Kurt’s. Kurt doesn’t know.

He only ever notices how striking they are.

Kurt rests a comforting hand on Blaine’s knee. “I know.”

“Yeah,” Blaine says with a slightly bitter laugh. “So does the whole world. In fact, the photogs knew I was leaving before I knew. You should have seen it. I could barely get past them.”

Kurt pulls a box of tissues out of the side panel and offers one to Blaine. “They’re bottom feeders. Try to ignore them.”

“Easier said than done.”

“I know,” Kurt repeats, feeling exceptionally useless. He’s in the exact same boat, but his heart hurts more for Blaine.

Blaine doesn’t deserve what he's going through. He doesn’t deserve such a public break-up.

He doesn’t deserve having his name drug all over social media by an emotionally manipulative bastard.

Kurt gazes out the window at the sky above. The forecast said it would be clear and sunny today, but it’s cloudy and grey. It matches Kurt's mood. Everything is cloudy and grey.

Well, maybe not everything.

The champagne isn’t. It’s cool and refreshing, and the bubbles make his tongue tingle.

That helps.

And Blaine helps, too.

Even gloomy, melancholy Blaine helps.

Just being in Blaine's presence helps.

“Living in the public eye isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, huh?” Blaine asks, though it sounds as much like a statement to himself as a question for Kurt.

“Not on days like today. But that’s the trade-off for being a star, I guess.”

“Would you ever give it up?” Blaine takes a sip so slight it doesn’t lower the level of the liquid in his glass.

“I can’t say I would. You?”

“Nah. Acting has given me so many opportunities I could never have dreamed of. And all the great people I've met? I mean, this is what? The fifth film we’ve starred in together?”

“It is."

Blaine chuckles, shakes his head. "Some of them have been real winners."

"I know! The roles you get offered when you're just starting out are criminal! Let’s see, we’ve been rogue enemy agents from different factions …”

“High school frenemies …”

“Alien co-conspirators …”

“Jealous rivals …”

“And now … lovers.”

“Yes,” Blaine says bashfully. “And today …”

Kurt smiles. “We get together for the first time.”

Hearing Kurt say it makes Blaine’s heart race, his pulse thrumming so fast it disappears.

The day Blaine found out he’d gotten the role of Kurt’s love interest and not the ‘jealous ex’ (the role his agent originally pitched him for since they play adversaries so well) was a dream come true. The studio felt the two of them could take their insane sexual tension (the studio's words, not Blaine's, although he doesn't disagree) and use it to fuel the plot of their latest 'friends-to-lovers' rom-com.

Blaine has always wanted to be a leading man. Deep down, he prayed that his first time, he'd play opposite Kurt. Now that it has finally happened, the role of his dreams comes with the greatest perk in the universe - an intimate moment with Kurt.

In front of about three dozen crew members, but still.

It's Blaine's chance to indulge his crush, which he plans to savor since it may not come around again.

Not in the way Blaine wants.

As friendly as Kurt is to him, as flirty as he can be, Blaine doesn't know for sure whether Kurt shares his feelings.

“If you don't mind my asking, when did he tell you?” Blaine asks.

“He didn’t." Kurt snorts humorlessly. "I woke up, and he was gone. I thought he had left for work. He had a table reading at six that morning, so I wasn’t immediately suspicious. Not until I started noticing important things were missing - clothes, toiletries, his contact lenses, his laptop …”

"Did he tell you why he was leaving?"

Kurt chews his lower lip at the question he'd known was coming ... the answer he's debating whether or not to give. "Eventually." He glances up at Blaine, flashes a sly grin, and decides to go for broke. “He left because he thought I was falling in love with my co-star.”

"Really?" And just like that, Blaine Anderson dies, his heart shrinking into nothing and blowing away on the wind. "W-which one?" he asks, solely for conversation's sake.

This time, when Kurt snorts, clamping a hand over his mouth to keep from spraying champagne all over the interior of the limo, it's genuine. "You, you gumball!"

"Oh. Oh!" Blaine’s expression of shock is so endearing, Kurt can’t look at it too long. There's a glow about him. It's like staring into the sun. “That's ... that’s funny. My ex broke up with me for the same reason. Because of ... you. At least, that's the excuse he gave on Twitter ... and Instagram ... and Facebook. There were other things. Other men, too.” Blaine's glow dims as he talks about his ex. Their relationship, and separation, weren’t as civil as Kurt’s. In reality, trouble had been brewing behind the scenes for a while.

He’s glad they finally went their separate ways.

But it stings just the same, finding out that someone you once loved, who you thought loved you back, was using you for clout.

And in that, Blaine's ex was a better actor than Blaine ever was.

"That is funny. Not funny ha-ha. Just ... funny. Who would have thunk?" Kurt goes back to his glass of champagne, keeping an eye on Blaine above the rim.

Blaine glances out the window as the limo slows, approaching the gates to the studio lot. Kurt doesn't follow Blaine's gaze, but he doesn't need to.

He knows what Blaine sees by the way his face falls.

Blaine had hoped they could slip in quietly, but there's already a mob three feet deep waiting for them. The photographers and fans won't be able to see a thing through the car's windows. The tint on them is darker than dark. Still, the whole lot will be on high alert with them here.

Inevitably, a handful will slip in.

They may even find their way on set.

Blaine doesn't have the energy to deal with that.

Not today.

“How are we going to get through it?" Blaine asks. "Filming this scene? I mean, the timing is ... uncanny, to say the least.”

“Think of it this way …” Kurt slides across to Blaine’s side, sits as close as they're both comfortable with. Crooking a finger beneath his chin, Kurt draws Blaine's attention away from the gathering crowd and over to his eyes instead “… we get to spend the entire afternoon making each other feel better. That's how we're going to get through this. Agreed?”

Blaine's eyes lower, flicker to Kurt's lips unintentionally. When they travel back up, he notices Kurt's eyes do the same. He swallows hard. At this distance from Kurt, from his mouth, Blaine only has the wherewithal to say one word. He makes it count. "Agreed."

#klaine advent 2020 #klaine advent: grey #klaine fic #klaine fanfiction #klaine

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giuliafc · 4 years ago

Text

Nightmares

Written by: JuliaFC

Betas: Khanofallorcs, Agrestebug, Etoile-Lead-Sama and Genxha. Thank you all so much!

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by (c) Thomas Astruc, TS1 Bouygues, Disney Channel, Zagtoon, Toei Animation. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Written for the Facebook h/c group “Hurt/Comfort Italia - Fanart and Fanfiction - GRUPPO NUOVO | Groups | Facebook”, weekend challenge, “Atonement 2.0”. I was asked to write a *coughs* drabble about character A being stuck somewhere and character B having to help them. If you speak/read Italian and are interested in the genre, join us! We’ll be glad to see you!

oOoOoOoOoOo

The sound of her frantic whimpers woke him up. He looked around wildly and, at first, panicked because he didn’t recognise anything. It took him a few minutes to realise that it was Nino’s lounge. He was sleeping in a sleeping bag on the floor.

Yes, the memories of the day before came back in a flash.

~~That morning~~

Marinette looked very tired that morning at school. Alya looked at her worriedly and told her that she shouldn’t stay awake all night working on projects all the time. She needed to sleep. So she acted instinctively, as she usually did, and decided that the only way that they could ensure that Marinette would have a full night of sleep was to be physically there to check up on her. Easy as pie. Alya was a master organiser when she had something in her mind. And she had decided that she wanted Marinette to have a sleepover with them at Nino’s. So in literally five minutes she cleared her schedule and Nino’s, rang Tom and Sabine and asked them for permission to ‘kidnap Marinette for a night’ and organised for Nora to look after Chris and the twins.

Marinette tried to complain. She really did her best to get out of the situation. But Adrien didn’t like that. Exactly like Alya, even he worried about the growing bags under Marinette’s eyes, and about how easily she fell asleep during their school day. She looked exhausted. He had asked her a couple of times in the last few weeks to slow down, because he really didn’t like how tired she looked. It seemed as though every time after, he saw her coming to school looking more exhausted than before. This time she literally fell asleep the second Mlle. Bustier’s lesson started and stayed asleep (aided by the fact that he and Alya explained to their teacher that Marinette’s health would benefit from the nap) for the whole lesson.

So when Marinette tried to complain about not wanting to take part in the sleepover and tried to get out of it, Adrien blatantly lied. He hated lying, and he wouldn't do it normally (except to protect his identity, of course), but Marinette was too dear a friend for him to worry about menial ethical concerns.

“It’s a shame that you don’t want to have a sleepover, Marinette,” he said. “I just texted Nathalie and she gave me permission to come too. But if you’re not going to be there, then the sleepover is usel—” He beamed when Marinette interrupted him.

“Oh no, you’re okay,” she muttered. “I mean, it’s okay. You’re perfect. I mean, it’s perfect. Yes, you’re not perfect, that would be weird. But mareding, I mean amazing. If you’ll be there, I’ll marry you, I mean I’ll come with you. Yes. Of course. I’ll be there. Right. Definitely!”

“Cool!” He gave her a soft look and took hold of her hand, causing Marinette’s face to flush deep red. “I’m looking forward to it, then!”

Alya and Nino looked at him with wide eyes, and Nino walked him to his car on purpose to ask him, “Did you really get permission for..”

“Nope,” he admitted. “But I will find a way. I may not get there very early and I may need to leave at the crack of dawn, but I’ll be there, Nino. See you tonight!”

When he closed the door of the sedan and was waiting patiently to return home, Plagg peeked out of the pocket of his shirt to give him a curious stare. “How are you going to pull this off, gamin?”

“I’ll pretend to have a migraine, go to bed and sneak out as Chat Noir.”

Plagg raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “Where is my holder? Tell the aliens to give him back to me. He buys me the best of cheese,” he asked. When Adrien gave him a dubious look, Plagg continued, “No, honestly. I’ve never seen you rebelling like this before. I'm proud of you, Adrien!”

Adrien chuckled. “Ha, thank you, buddy. It’s not rebellion. It’s just—”

“What?” interrupted the little furball.

Adrien sighed. “I’m worried for Marinette. I knew that she would agree to the sleepover if I was going to be there.” Plagg raised an eyebrow so Adrien blushed a little and looked away. “Don’t look at me like that. She’s always wanted me to get some freedom and experience things, so I knew she wasn’t going to give up on the opportunity to make me experience a sleepover.”

“Ah, okay,” commented Plagg. “Go figure…”

So that evening Adrien put his plan into action and, for once, everything went smoothly. At exactly nine o’clock he pretended to have a migraine and locked himself in his room, transformed into Chat Noir, turned his shower on in the bathroom (just in case. After all, Nathalie had a master key to all the rooms in the mansion!) and left to reach Nino.

He didn’t get disappointed. They had great fun playing a couple of games before going to bed. They even had a pillow fight, because Adrien had always wanted to do one. Then, nice and early (so that Marinette could get as much rest as possible), Alya set up four sleeping bags in the lounge and they all went to bed.

It didn’t take long for Marinette to fall asleep. He kept a watchful eye on her and saw that she tossed back and forth a few times. She also muttered things to herself a little bit, but in a matter of minutes, she was gone. Adrien smiled and exchanged conspiratory looks with Nino and Alya, happy that their plan had worked. Hopefully, it meant that finally Marinette would get some sleep.

A moment later, though, he raised an eyebrow as Nino and Alya got up from their sleeping bag.

“Where are you going?” he asked, a little surprised.

“Not to be funny, Sunshine, but Nino’s bed is much more comfortable than the floor and we would also like some privacy. So if you don’t mind…” Alya winked at him. “Would you look after Marinette for us?” They hadn’t even waited for him to say yes before walking away.

“Huh, great friends they are,” commented Plagg. “But at least I can get out from your pocket.”

“Be careful, though, Plagg. If they come back, or if Marinette wakes up, I don’t want anyone to see you.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll stay inside the sleeping bag,” retorted Plagg.

It didn’t take long after that for Adrien to fall asleep.

~~End of Flashback~~

But now, the sound of whimpers and muffled cries woke him up. He looked around, wondering if Alya and Nino had come back, but their sleeping bags were empty. There was only one person who could be whimpering, then.

He quickly got up and moved closer to Marinette. Her eyes were closed, but she was tossing and turning, the sweat pumping out of her. She was white as a sheet.

“She must be having a nightmare,” whispered Plagg, floating sleepily out of the sleeping bag and reaching the pocket of his pyjamas top.

“I know,” whispered Adrien. “Should I wake her up?” At Plagg’s agreement, he called out to her a bit louder, grabbing her shoulders and giving her a small shake, “Marinette? Marinette?”

“Nnnnnnnnnh, no, please,” Marinette was muttering. “You're wrong! I'm not Marinette! It's impossible, I never told you anything!”

Adrien’s eyes went wide. What kind of nightmare was she having? Why was she saying that she wasn’t Marinette? “Marinette? Please, it’s me! Wake up!”

“Nnnnnno! Don’t touch me, chaton, please!” she screamed and of course Adrien let her go and sat on his knees, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Chaton?” He sucked his breath in, his heart in his throat. Was she really talking to him or was she still dreaming? Had she figured him out? And if she hadn’t, why on Earth was she having nightmares about Chat Noir?

“It-it’s time to de-evil—” she started to say and then she crouched on herself, as if she was trying to duck a hit.

Plagg moved a little closer to Marinette and stared with massive concern at the girl asleep on the floor. His gaze darted from the sleeping girl to the stunned face of Adrien, and the boy could clearly see that his kwami was worried. No, worried wasn’t the right word. He was terrified.

“Never! LUCKY CHARM!” shouted Marinette and then she erupted into a massive scream that drained all blood from Adrien’s face. His heart skipped several beats as Alya and Nino ran in the room giving Plagg barely enough time to zip back behind Adrien’s head.

“What’s going on, Sunshine?” asked Alya running next to him.

“I-I don’t know. She started talking in her sleep and screaming, I think she’s having a nightmare but I couldn’t wake her up. I don’t know what else to do!”

Alya put a hand to her chin and frowned. "She had mentioned a couple of times that she was having nightmares. I wonder if that’s what has been keeping her awake or making her so tired. I’ll go make some camomile tea, for when she wakes up. You don’t move away from her, Sunshine. Nino, come with me.”

Adrien gave them a grateful look as they walked out of the lounge. “Plagg?” he asked after a moment. The little black kwami came out of his hiding place and gave him a sheepish look. “Don’t look at me like this, Plagg. Have you maybe failed to mention that—”

“OKAY! OKAY! I'LL GIVE YOU MY MIRACULOUS, CHAT NOIR!”

“Plagg!” Adrien put his hands into his hair. By now he knew that it couldn’t be an accident. The gravity of his discovery hit him like a big punch in the stomach. Marinette was Ladybug. There was no other explanation for what he’d just heard. But he didn’t have a chance to panic about it. The realisation hit him that his Lady was having a nightmare. A nightmare about facing… him? Chat Noir? Wanting to steal her Miraculous? Why was his Lady tormented with nightmares where he was an akuma? He looked at her again and saw that she was crying in her sleep. His heart broke. “What’s going on? What is she talking about? I’ve never b—”

“You will always be Chat Noir to me.” The way she said it. The sentiment that vibrated in each and every word. Tears were starting to worm their way out of the corner of Adrien’s eyes as he grabbed Marinette’s shoulders firmly and gave her a big, massive shake.

“BUGINETTE! Can you hear me? Please wake up! Wake up please!” He hugged her and couldn’t stop sobbing. “Please, My Lady. Please wake up…”

As he kept hugging her and gently patting her hair with his hands, he felt her body relaxing before tensing again. Until suddenly, she started hugging him back.

“Chaton?” she whispered. “Is that you?”

He broke the hug and looked her in the eye. He saw the surprise in her gaze and how wide her eyes and how pale her face had become. He wiped his tears with the back of his hand.

“It’s me, yes. Hi,” he said tentatively and waved nervously.

She sucked her breath in and gasped loudly. “I must still be dreaming. Yes, that’s it. I’m still asleep. Now I’m going to pinch my hand and I will wake up still laying in my sleeping bag and you will be sleeping too and nothing will have happened and I will just think of how stupid I have been in having yet another silly nightmare with Chat Blanc and… oh my God, usually I just see what had happened in the future again, not wake up with Adrien hugging me and claiming to be Chat Noir; it must be because I’m at this sleepover, and he’s sleeping in the same room as me, and I must have mixed things up and—”

As she was saying all that avalanche of words, Alya and Nino came back inside the lounge, carrying four mugs of piping hot herbal tea. Alya sat down with her legs crossed next to Adrien and cautiously gave the mug she held in her right hand to Marinette.

“What are you rambling about, girl? Here, have some camomile, it helps against nightmares.”

They sat down in silence. Nino gave Adrien another mug full of piping hot liquid.

Marinette’s gaze was literally glued into Adrien’s, her face as white as a sheet. She absentmindedly took a sip and winced, forgetting just how hot camomile could get. She started blowing gently on the liquid, but her eyes never lost sight of him.

“Sorry, Alya, I was having a nightmare,” she said eventually. “That’s why I didn’t want to come to the sleepover. I… I’ve been having nightmares for some time now.”

“What kind of nightmares, girl? I didn’t understand what you were saying, but you were screaming bloody murder a moment ago. Luckily, Chris is at my house with the twins, or we would have had three overtired children to deal with by now.”

Marinette moved her gaze briefly and met Alya’s worried brown eyes. “Sorry, Alya. My nightmares are nothing special, something about me failing my exams and my commissions. Nothing to worry about.”

Adrien glared at her. He knew that she had to lie, but he still didn’t like it when she lied that blatantly. “Are these nightmares the reason why you’re so tired?” he asked, sniffling a little. He couldn’t stop the mad pounding of his heart.

“Ah, no, don’t worry. I’ve just worn myself out too much recently, that’s all.” She made a dismissive gesture and smiled nervously. Right. As if he bought that. He and his Lady would need to have quite a long chat, as soon as—

Marinette put the cup back down on the ground, empty. “Thank you for the camomile, Alya. I feel better now. Shall we go back to sleep?”

Alya yawned and picked up the mug from the ground, standing up in a gracious gesture. “Are you sure you will be okay?”

“Yes I will, don’t worry. You and Nino go back to bed.” She smiled when Alya gave her a sheepish look. Marinette eyed her amusedly and continued, “Did you think I hadn’t realised you were gone?” She chuckled a little and a light blush dusted her cheeks. “You two go back to doing whatever you were doing. Don’t worry about me; Adrien’s here.”

Adrien saw clearly how Marinette winced when Alya’s eyes grew wide. To what must have been her great scorn, rather than going away as she had been asked to, Alya moved closer to Marinette. She sat back down crossed legged next to her and put a hand on her forehead. “Okay, where have you put my Marinette? Give her back, please.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Marinette, plucking Alya’s hand from her forehead and moving it back to her friend’s lap.

Alya folded her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow. “Do you need to ask? We come back in the room and find you in Adrien’s arms muttering nonsensical stuff that we couldn’t even understand,” said Alya as Adrien took a big sigh of relief that neither of their friends had truly heard the secrets spilling out of Marinette's nightmare. “Then you don’t stutter at all in his presence and you dismiss us saying that you’re okay because you’re with him? Tell the aliens that I want my girl back. Please.”

Marinette blushed deep red, lowering her gaze to the floor. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m tired and want to go back to sleep. So if you don’t mind, Alya…”

Alya sighed. “Okay, okay, I got the message.” She got up again and gave her a look full of mischief. “I’ll leave you to it, then. Good luck!” Then she grabbed Nino by the arm and walked straight out, turning the light off.

They waited for a few minutes in the darkness, still like salt statues, listening carefully to ensure that Alya and Nino were really gone. After a few minutes of waiting, Adrien stood up and went to the door. He put an ear to the door and then looked at Marinette with an annoyed frown on his face. He slammed the door open and Alya and Nino both fell on the ground.

“Ouch, what was that for, Sunshine?” complained Alya.

Adrie sighed. “I thought Marinette told you to go to bed.”

Alya smiled nervously. “Uh, yes, we were just…”

“Picking something from the floor,” muttered Nino at the same time as Adrien said, “...spying on us. Do you think we don’t know your ways, Alya?”

Alya looked at both her friends sheepishly. “I know, sorry. We’ll go to bed now.”

“You’d better, Alya, I’m tired!” said Marinette with an exaggerated yawn. Alya and Nino waved goodnight and Adrien closed the door. He stayed near the door for a few minutes, tapping his foot on the floor nervously. Then he opened the door again. This time everything was clear. He closed the door and sighed.

He turned around and, without looking at Marinette in the eye, went back in front of her and sat down, legs crossed. His fingers started fidgeting with the silver ring on his right ring finger, bringing Marinette’s attention to it. He started slipping it off his finger, but gasped when Marinette grabbed his hand and stopped his gesture, wrapping his hands with hers firmly.

“Don’t you dare,” she commanded. He gulped, the grip that had already held his throat since he’d discovered the truth became even more painful. He breathed heavily, his hands falling listlessly on his lap.

“Who’s Chat Blanc?” he eventually asked. “Is he the reason why you’re so tired?”

Marinette sighed. She started fiddling with her own fingers now and looking at her hands with great interest. “Chat Blanc is… you. In another timeline you were somehow akumatised. I would rather not talk about it, minou, it’s not a nice memory of mine.”

“I’m sorry,” he muttered and grabbed her hand, causing her to give a startled gasp. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles softly. Marinette’s face lit like a lightbulb and she gave him the expression he had been so used to seeing on her face up to then, that sort of grimace between a smile and a cringe that she reserved only for him. “I wish I could do something to help. I don’t even remember having been akumatised in the first place. When did th—,” he started, but then he gasped and put a hand on his mouth, his cheeks dusting slightly with pink. “Uh, sorry M’lady, you didn’t want to talk about it.”

Tikki flew between them and started floating right in front of Marinette’s face. “Although maybe you should, Marinette.” Marinette hugged herself and started rocking back and forth. Her eyes filled with tears as she sniffled loudly and shook her head in denial. Tikki sighed. “Really, Marinette, you’ve been having horrible nightmares for months. You can’t get it out of your head. Discussing it with him could—”

“NO!” said Marinette louder. “I’m so useless, Tikki. I had promised to myself to never let him know about it at all, and here I am, revealing myself to him because of a nightmare about his akumatised self that he doesn’t know anything about. It’s not fair. It’s not fair to him, to taunt him with a future that doesn’t exist. He doesn’t deserve it!”

“But talking about it can help you, Marinette. Adrien is your friend, he’s been worried for you. Alya and Nino have been worried for you. You know that this is the reason why Alya organised this sleepover. You haven’t slept more than an hour or two per night for months. You keep burning the candle at both ends. You’re taking on a burden as massive as the memory of this timeline, and the nightmares that came from it, all on your shoulders without asking for any help. It’s not healthy.”

“B-but I don’t want to burden him with it, he’s got enough in his plate already!”

Adrien cleared his throat causing both Marinette and Tikki to turn towards him. “‘He’ has a name, Marinette, and ‘he’ would love to support you and help you, you know? Me and you against the world, that’s how it’s always been, right, Buginette? Why do you never trust me with anything?”

Marinette paled, giving him a terrified look that broke his heart a little. “So-sorry, I do trust you, Adrien. I trust you with my life on a daily basis.”

“Only because I force you to, by putting myself between you and the danger. But you’ve never trusted me with anything else.” He pouted.

Marinette raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? You’re sure of that?” She gave him a tongue-in-cheek look and folded her arms on her chest. He gulped and his gaze fell.

“Uh, I know what you mean. The New York incident. You know who I am now; you know that I couldn’t not go. And you were the one to make it happen for me. I did try to ask my father if I could stay, but he had already packed my bags.” He saw her raising an eyebrow at him and pouted again.

“It’s not the fact that you went on the trip that disappointed me, Adrien, but the fact that you never told me anything.”

He blushed and was going to retort something. But then, he saw the disapproving glare that Tikki was addressing to Marinette and he gasped, realising what she was doing. “Don’t change the subject, Marinette. You’re trying to distract me, aren’t you? I have already apologised for not having told you anything when we went to New York. You promised me after that incident that you would try to trust me more. Why are you breaking your promise, Buginette?”

Marinette’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m not breaking my promise!”

“You are! You’re not letting me help you. I can see that you’re hurting, Marinette. I had been feeling that there was something wrong for weeks, and now I feel as if I’m only seeing the tip of the iceberg of what’s troubling you. It must have been a really traumatic experience. I want to help you. I’m your partner, right? You said so many times that we’re equals?” He put a hand on her chin and forced her to look up. Her face gained a deep shade of crimson when bluebell eyes met forest green.

“You are my equal, chaton, and I do trust you. It’s just… just…” She cupped her hands on her face and started sobbing loudly. He reacted on instinct and moved closer, wrapping her up in a tight embrace. He felt Marinette tensing for a moment under his touch, but immediately after, she relaxed and hugged him back. She cried for a very long time, her muffled sobs and his tentative ‘shhhh’ the only sounds that could be heard in the silence of the lounge.

“It happened three months ago,” she eventually whispered. “The day of your fifth name day celebration, remember?” He nodded quietly. “Bunnyx came to me a little after I left your room and brought me to this future where the world had been destroyed. You had even Cataclysmed the moon. The entire city was underwater and you were sitting atop Montparnasse tower, alone. You were completely white, including your hair, and had these icy blue eyes that shone with madness. You attacked me and tried to get my Miracu—”

He gasped loudly and broke the hug, looking at her with his eyes wide. “I attacked you? I would never attack you!”

“You were an akuma, Adrien. You had destroyed the world. You had… you had Cataclysmed Hawkmoth. And me. I found what I thought were the statues of myself and Hawkmoth underwater and when I touched them they shred into powder. You said it had been an accident.”

Adrien started breathing hard. “This doesn’t make any sense! Why would I Cataclysm Hawkmoth and you? I thought Hawkmoth gave orders to the akumas, they’re his champions. How can an akuma possibly kill him?” He put his hands into his hair. “No, no, no! I would never Cataclysm you, Buginette. Never. After what I did to Aeon,” he started, but Plagg appeared from his hiding spot and flew to his face.

“It’s happened once in history already where an akuma created by the Butterfly holder fought back. Hawkmoth no doubt severely underestimated the power of the Black Cat Miraculous, gamin.”

“Hi, Plagg,” said Marinette when the little God of Destruction finished speaking.

“Hi, Pigtails. Where has Sugarcube g—?” Plagg looked around, but he didn’t manage to finish what he was saying, because something red zipped to him and wrapped him in a hug.

“I’m here, Stinkysock.” She let go of him after a few moments and looked at Adrien. “You’re right in what you’re saying, Adrien. She’s been terribly traumatised. She can hardly sleep at night.”

Adrien’s worried gaze went from Tikki’s concerned eyes to his maskless partner. “You faced hundreds of Akumas, Marinette. Why was I any—”

“You really need to ask?” she interrupted him. She glared, her eyes full of tears that she wiped angrily with the back of her hand. “It was you. The other akumas don’t matter to me, chaton. You do. You mean the world to me.”

‘You will always be Chat Noir to me,’ he remembered her saying just before she woke up. His heart started pounding in his chest again.

“Every time I close my eyes I see those icy blue orbs staring coldly at me. You were calling me with my name, so you knew who I was. And you told me that our love had destroyed the world.

His face felt suddenly very hot as his heart took residence in his throat. “Our… love?” he said in a choked whisper.

“You told me that your heart was broken, that because I didn’t love you anymore then you would destroy yourself, me, our memories, everything. You tried hitting me with a really powerful Cataclysm that you were throwing at me like a blast of energy from your hands. That’s usually when I wake up, but I think this time I reached the end, or nearly. I only woke up because you hugged and then shook me.”

Adrien’s brain had switched off hearing Marinette say ‘I didn’t love you anymore’. He didn’t hear anything else. “You love me?” he asked out of the blue. Marinette’s face turned crimson.

“Uuuuh… you see, the b-boy I was telling you about when we fought Glaciator?” He nodded. “That b-boy was you. Adrien-you. I fell in love with you when you gave me your umbrella.” She sniffled. “A-and to be honest, recently the line between Chat Noir being my partner and me having feelings towards him had become so thin that I couldn’t see it anymore. I was terrified to love my minou because of what I had seen in the future but… I couldn’t stop myself. I have been so confused since we came back from New York, chaton. I still loved Adrien, my heart was doing somersaults every time I caught you looking at me in class, but I couldn’t help being fond of my partner. Not after having nearly lost him. I tried to forget you both by dating Luka and trying to reciprocate his feelings, but it was going nowhere. We broke up a couple of weeks ago.”

Adrien pinned his elbows on his thighs, passing both his hands in his hair. He was trying very hard to ignore the sudden jolt of happiness that ran through his very being the second she said that she was, in fact, in love with him. All of him. She loved Chat Noir-him and Adrien-him. And she had just recently broken up with Luka, so she was available. How had he managed to hit the jackpot so perfectly? His heart was fluttering on its own little spot between cloud nine and ten, but the matter at bait now was that his Lady had been having nightmares. About him. The akuma version of him he didn’t even know that existed. And those nightmares had been taunting her sleep and exhausting her. He could squeeze her into his arms and kiss her senseless later.

“This is so messed up! So in that universe we were together and you broke up with me. I freaked out and got akumatised,” he said.

“Essentially, yes, I think.” She sighed. “I don’t know what happened, but it must have left you devastated.”

He grabbed her hand and forced her to look at him in the eye moving her chin towards him with the other hand. “You left me. That’s what happened. My heart broke.” He said that with such determination that Marinette couldn’t dismiss it. “I can relate with myself on that.”

It made total sense. Absolute and total sense. Yes, the fact that she left him broke his…

Hang on a second. Marinette paled as her eyes widened. “Y-your heart b-broke? Because I left you?”

“Aha. That’s what akuma-me told you, right? You know that I love you, My Lady. My heart breaks a little every time that you reject me. I don’t know if I could take you breaking up with me.”

Marinette’s heart went into her ears. Then, what he said registered in her brain and she noted that he had said, ‘My Lady.’ She deflated and slumped her shoulders.

“Right. Yes, chaton. I know you love your Lady.”

What happened? Adrien frowned as he scrutinised Marinette’s pout. Was she disappointed that he loved her? But she had said that she loved him too. What was the issue? He had felt the tension building within her and she had looked happy for a fraction of a second and then, out of the blue, her mood had changed. He saw her eyes filling with tears and his heart sank. What had he done wrong? Why was she upset? He kept going through what she had said, and what he had said, trying to find a clue, a reason why her mood had changed so much. Then, it suddenly struck him.

“Oh no… no no no no no, Marinette. You’re Ladybug. You’re the one I love.”

“I know you love Ladybug, Adrien. Don’t dig the blade deeper, please.” Her spiteful tone was the last clue he needed.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a shake. “Marinette, how many times did I tell you how amazing and great you are? How many times I praised you the same way Chat Noir praises Ladybug? God, I also called you my Everyday Ladybug once! You’re Ladybug, Marinette. Ladybug is you. You’re not a different entity from her, you’re her. Now it’s so clear that I really don’t understand how I didn’t see it before!” Her gaze was still looking down, the sparkle in her eyes completely absent.

“Please,” she muttered. “I’ve always been ‘just a friend’ until you discovered I’m Ladybug.”

His heart sank. His gaze started darting around, not knowing where to focus. He tried to say something at least four times, but every time he opened his mouth he changed his mind about what he wanted to say. Eventually, he met Plagg’s electric green eyes. The black kwami raised an eyebrow and folded his paws over his little chest. Adrien blushed and looked away. He knew what he had to do. He took a big breath and looked at her.

“You have never been just a friend for me, Marinette.” He felt his face getting really hot, but he knew that he had to say it. The time had come for him to tell the truth. He gulped. “Plagg can confirm what I say. He’s always been frustrated with me because I didn’t get it, and when I got it, it was too late and you had started dating Luka.”

He cringed at the sound of his own voice, so hoarse that he could hardly recognise it himself. “Rejection stings. Ladybug rejected Chat Noir’s advances so many times that it bruised my heart. I-I didn’t want to be rejected again, and by you, and ruin our friendship. Our friendship is so important to me; you’re my first friend. You’re so precious to me, Marinette.” He looked at her briefly; she stared back with glassy eyes, a big frown on her beautifully flushed face. “So I kept my mouth shut. But lately it has been getting more and more difficult to keep away from you, especially after New York. I was so happy when we had that dance under the moonlight. Somehow I felt that I still had a chance. But then,” his voice cracked, “when you didn’t stop me from leaving, I got heartbroken. I felt that both girls I loved had abandoned me.”

She gasped loudly. He fell silent for a long time, trying to fight the tears that were prickling at the corner of his eyes and the sobs that were itching to pour out of his clenched throat. “Little did I kn—” he tried to continue, but he had to stop. He couldn’t see anything any more because of the tears that were falling off his eyes. His throat had completely shut and didn’t allow his voice to come out. He wiped his eyes with the back of his right hand as his bottom lip quivered badly and the sobs he had been trying to hold came out, loud and clear. He panicked and his gaze darted around, the shapes of his surroundings dancing in front of him following the flow of his tears. When his green eyes met her bluebell ones, he saw that she was crying too. As soon as their gazes met, Marinette jumped on him and wrapped him in a massive hug.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry!” she cried as she hugged him, and he hugged her back, desperately, as if he was being billowed away by a tornado and she was his only handhold. “I was shocked because Chat Noir—uh, you—had given up your Miraculous and I couldn’t think straight. By the time I gathered my thoughts again, your car had started to go. I ran after you for ages, Adrien, I picked up a bike lying on the tarmac and I followed your car screaming at you to stop. But the rain had made the ground slippery and I fell. And you were gone. That was the worst moment of my life! I had lost the two boys I loved the most in the entire world.” Now her voice was hoarse and cracking too. “I’m so sorry, chaton. I messed up so much!”

They hugged for a long time, happily lulling each other in the warmth and sensations that the close proximity to the other gave. Adrien’s hand was patting Marinette’s hair gently, the delicate smell of coconut (probably her shampoo) intoxicating his senses. He had to physically prevent himself from sniffing her neck. She smelled of vanilla and baked goods, maybe a hint of wildflower. It was absolutely divine. As he passed his fingers through her hair, he undid her pigtails and happily plunged his fingers in the soft silkiness of her corvine strands. The rhythmic sound of her breathing was grounding him, regulating him and helping him calm down.

“Can I kiss you?” he eventually asked. He felt her tensing at the question and regretted having asked. Maybe it was too early for her? Maybe she wanted more time to get used to the idea? “I-if you don’t want, it’s okay, you don’t have to.”

She broke the hug and looked at him, giving him such a soft look that his insides melted as a tingle running through his whole spine. But when she moved quickly and removed all gaps, meeting his lips with hers, the tingle was renewed in its strength. The butterflies (the right kind of butterflies) took residence in his stomach as he deepened the kiss. He felt his heart explode from the surge of electricity that ran through his core when Marinette, after a little gasp, allowed him to. Her hands moved to his hair, and Adrien learned that he really liked Marinette’s hands combing through his bangs.

Then, as suddenly as their lips had met, they had to break the kiss to breathe. They looked at each other, panting hard. Adrien touched his forehead tenderly with Marinette’s and stroked her cheek with his thumb.

“I love you, chaton,” Marinette whispered in his ear, causing him to shiver. He held her stronger and placed a soft kiss on her temple.

“I love you too, Marinette.” He stroked her hair gently some more. “Can I sleep next to you? I promise I will be a gentleman. I-i just want to feel you next to me.”

Marinette nodded and they laid down on Mariette’s sleeping bag, still wrapped around each other. Marinette fell asleep almost instantly, her head resting happily on his chest, one of her ears pressed against his ribcage right next to his heart. He placed another soft kiss on her hair and started feeling his eyes closing from the exhaustion.

And that was how Alya found them, a few hours later. She had entered the lounge to wake Adrien up and tell him it was time for him to go back home, if he didn’t want to get caught. Alya erupted into a big, huge, massive grin and tiptoed her way back to Nino’s bedroom to grab her phone. She beckoned for Nino to follow her and they both sighed, looking tenderly at the two lovebirds fast asleep.

“I knew that my little birdie would leave his nest eventually,” whispered Nino with a big smile on his face.

Alya beamed at him. “I’m nearly sorry to wake him up,” she whispered back. Nino gave her a curt look and she sighed. “I know, I know, he risked a lot to come here and we don’t want to blow his cover. But first,” she said and messed with her phone, putting the camera on and taking a picture, “There. For the wedding album!”

Then, she gave Adrien a big shake and was thankful that she caught his surprised blushing face as soon as he opened his eyes.

‘That's another good one for the album,’ she thought, taking one last shot when Marinette also opened her eyes at Adrien's surprised gasp and her face became the colour of Ladybug’s suit.

Those two. Honestly, they'd never learn.

Fin

Author’s note

There you go. A bit later than I wanted to, but here’s the second story for that challenge. Which sadly ended before I finished the story, but never mind, I post it anyway ^-^

Hope you liked this story. Please feel free to drop any compliments, screams, insults, kisses… incoherent rambling… anything you want in the comments and hit send. I love reading your feedback, please be nice with this poor sleep deprived soul who writes at 3 am for tort—, I mean to delight you with these loads of rub—, er, these beautiful stories of mine. *Coughs*. Good news is (oh well, good… depending from the point of view), I have more plans in my head, so I’ll tort—, I mean I’ll delight you with some more very, very soon.

Aren’t you happy? :D

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculous adrien #miraculous les aventures de ladybug et chat noir #chatnoir #adrienette #adrienagreste #adrinette #adrien and marinette #marinette dupain cheng #chat blanc #marinette needs a hug #identity reveal #ladybug reveal #chat noir reveal

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for-a-muse-of-fire · 4 years ago

Text

oh, but you’re good to me

the wench and the witcher

"oh, but you’re good to me”

Fandom: The Witcher (2019)

Paring: Geralt of Rivia x Black!OFC - Zahra Auberel. Platonic!Jaskier x Zahra.

Summary: Midaëte brings the height of summer, and a reconciliation.

Warnings: Rated Mature due to brief mention of sex. Please don’t interact if you are under the age of 18.

A/N: Well, what started as a simple reader insert character grew into a fully-formed OC through the course of this series. And now we have reached the end! Well, mostly. I have some random outtakes and drabbles that I’m sure will crop up, but my (eventual) multi-chapter will feature Geralt and Zahra as they navigate some... interesting magical developments.

But, for now, I call this the end of The Wench and The Witcher. Thank you guys so much for your kind words, reblogs, likes - this is honestly the most I’ve written in years and knowing that y’all have enjoyed it warms the cockles of my heart. Title and lyrics under the cut from Hozier’s “Would That I” which I think might be my favorite Hozier song full-stop, hands down.

@coconutxraikage - @onyour-right - @ly–canthrope - @kianya-loves - @c-s-stars - @gczanetti1 - @alwaysnatz - @agniavateira - @owillofthewisps - @hina-chans-stuff - @yespolkadotkitty - @wastingmypotential - @inber

With each love I cut loose, I was never the same Watching still-living roots be consumed by the flame I was fixed on your hand of gold Layin' waste to my lovin' long ago

“Contracts from the butcher and the miller,” Lucja rattles off. “And Jaskier returned your message – says he’s very much looking forward to performing for the solstice festival.”

She gives a hum as she thumbs through the stack of papers on the desk. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you, as well,” she teases.

Lucja’s pretty round face goes pink, making her employer grin. The older woman pauses when she finds an unfamiliar piece of folded parchment among the stack of invoices. Slim brown fingers unfold the sharply folded letter and suddenly her heart is in her throat. “Lucja… where did this come from?”

“Oh… it, ah, came with Jaskier’s reply. Do you want me to get rid of it?”

Though half-tempted to let Lucja burn the letter, she bites her lip and shakes her head. “No,” she murmurs. “Thank you, Lu’ – that will be all.”

Her young barmaid flashes a sympathetic smile and closes the door behind her. The neatly looped scrawl of the letter makes something around her heart ache. She’d always been surprised by how tidy the Witcher’s handwriting was:

I don’t

This isn’t what

I’m not – fucking shit fuck

The first time I saw you, it was like walking into the light of the sun after half a lifetime in the cold. And it was so fucking cold that night.

You were like summer.

It’s cold again now, without you. I don’t know what I’m doing

Two weeks later:

I wanted want wanted to bring you to see Kaer Mohren. I know you said you like the ocean more than the mountains, but I think this place could change your mind. You would get on with Eskel like a house on fire. He’s more of a southerner, like you.

I told him about the time you tried to teach me to cook and he nearly pissed himself laughing.

Lambert’s a shit. Vesemir already likes you.

You’d like it here. The kitchen is nearly as big as the whole front room of the tavern. Library’s bigger.

Garden’s a fucking nightmare, though.

We could go to the ocean, too. Anywhere you want.

The missives don’t come with any real regularity. A few at a time, a week-long gap, but they never stop. She thinks about writing back, at first, but deciphering where the Witcher is would likely be impossible and… gods, she’s still so damned angry. The White Wolf receives no reply.

Regardless, the letters keep coming.

The thing is, I don’t know what else there is besides The Path - this life of slaying monsters and getting paid in coin. I was told that was all I needed and I believed it for a very long time. There was nothing to challenge that, not until I met you.

You were are so fucking beautiful. And warm, and bright, and vulgar, and kind, and a pain in my ass and I should have told you how much you meant to me, but I couldn’t parse it out until just now, and I am an idiot. And a coward. I thought that telling myself you were an amusement would be enough, that I would be content with warming your bed, but I can’t do that anymore. I can’t keep lying about how much I need you.

I need you, Zee. It feels like I’m missing my fucking sword arm.

The words on the page blur together. She brushes them with her fingertips, almost smiling even as the tears catch in her lashes:

I miss the way you laugh at Jaskier’s dirty songs.

I miss the way you used my legs to keep your feet warm at night.

I miss that fucking rabbit stew.

I miss the way you’d look at me when I walked in the door.

I miss the sounds you make when I’m inside of you. The way you taste.

I miss your eyes. And your smile.

Your voice. Your terrible fucking singing.

You are my home. You’re my harbor and my safe haven.

I love you. I’m sorry. Please forgive me.

---

Midaëte approaches. With it, a week’s worth of festivities, and food and drink, leading up to the day of the solstice. It means early mornings in the kitchen and late nights in the tavern. The evenings are balmy, windows and doors thrown open to allow the scent of summer air and night-blooming flowers to drift through.

For a time, she is so busy that she forgets to be heartsore. Geralt’s letters – page after yellowing page – sit tied with a gold ribbon in her desk drawer. Confessions and apologies, promises and rambling stories that she keeps picking up to read again and again. It’s a veritable book, more than he’d ever seen fit to say in person and she’s not sure whether to be infuriated or hopeful, but there’s barely time. Thank the gods.

Business booms, between trades-folk coming in for the market day, then musicians, then families. She drinks a little, dances when there is time; she lets Lucja weave tiny yellow purple flowers into her hair for Midaëte Eve and dresses in white and yellow to enjoy the evening. Or try to, at least. The main room is full almost to bursting, patrons laughing, carousing, and eventually spilling out into the courtyard to dance in the falling dusk.

Zahra watches from the doorway. A few try to tempt her into the circle for a reel and they receive a grateful smile with her refusal. Jaskier, however, will not be deterred.

“You, dear lady,” he croons. “Look too lovely to be hiding in the shadows.”

“Jas…”

“One dance. Just one – you might even have fun by mistake.”

She rolls her eyes, but the bard just grins and lifts her hand for a kiss. He leads her, hand-in-hand out to the courtyard; Jaskier gives a nod to his fellow players and they begin with a sharp beat that eases into a lovely, familiar melody.

“You know this one, ducky?” Jaskier queries with a smile. She nods and he takes the lead.

It’s a simple step, to start with. A sweet back and forth to match the sweet, flowing verse of the song. The touch of Jaskier’s hand on her low back offers guidance, keeps her moving in gentle circles around him until the real movement begins. Swinging, agile steps carry Zahra and her partner around in wide loops. The mingle with other dancers, threading hands to spin back together and then apart.

Jaskier grips her waist across the front, and she follows suit. The dizzying spin turns the world into a wash of summer colors for a moment and she can’t help but laugh. It feels good to be light again.

The bard turns her under his arm and into the hands of the next man. There’s a moment of hesitation, a moment where she considers bowing out and going back to her corner, but the tabor still thrums in her blood and it’s such a beautiful night.

Still smiling, she curtsies, and is lead back through the steps again. Her partner leads easily, light of foot and loose of tongue – from her ale, more like than not – but he’s kind, and sweet, and so funny that she’s nearly in tears when she’s suddenly spun away to her next partner. She catches the fabric of her skirts to add a flourish to the spin; the soft yellow cotton dances with her.

When spins to a stop, she sees black, at first. Matte black buttons, black tunic shirt – worn, but cleaner than it usually is. The silver wolf’s head medallion sparks in the torchlight.

Zahra looks up into the face of Geralt of Rivia and the music goes dull behind the roar of blood in her ears. It feels a bit like standing on a ledge cliff and looking down to gauge the fall. She feels dizzy, and terrified, and wonderfully breathless. Heart in her mouth, she spies Jaskier out of the corner of her eye.

The bard grins. Bastard.

“Zahra…”

The Witcher’s voice rumbles through her like soft summer thunder. Strong fingers grip hers, and he lifts her knuckles to his lips. His honey-gold eyes are more earnest and honest than she’s ever seen them – he asks the question without moving his lips. Zahra nods.

Geralt leads her in the dance and everything falls away.

She hears the music, feels it sing through her, but her focus remains on the white-haired mutant at her side. His hand spans her back, warm through her dress and stays; the lightest pressure of his fingertips, or palm, guides her to turn, or step, or pivot in time with him. It shouldn’t be surprising to her, how well he moves – she’s seen him fight, and his grace with a sword, and how would dancing be any different? He doesn’t look away from her once and the heat of his gaze flushes over her. The Witcher very nearly smiles.

Geralt turns her under his arm, guides her through the last few measures of the song. He steps away, takes his warmth with him, and bows. Zahra curtsies in return.

The crowd, the rest of the world, rushes back over them. The townsfolk whistle, and stomp, for a moment determined to swarm in and start up another country dance, and Geralt grips her hand tight for a moment. She sees him hesitate before he asks, simply, “Can we talk?”

Most of the party has spilled into the streets, leaving the tavern itself practically empty. Lucja still keeps to her spot behind the bar, green eyes going wide when she spies Zahra and her guest in tow. The girl’s pretty face splits into a knowing smile that makes Zahra’s face go hot.

It’s mostly dark in her study. The small hearth fire has gone to smoldering embers, and it gives her the opportunity to light a few candles and collect her utterly scattered thoughts. She flicks out the last taper and finally looks up at Geralt. He stands just inside the closed door, just as he used to. It’s familiar – it feels like it’s been years, or decades, or maybe just a few hours. His honey-colored gaze still holds a heat that sings over her skin. She drops her eyes to the desk.

The last letter sits there, creased and folded from how many times she’s read it. Zahra picks at the parchment. Keeping her focus on Geralt’s neat lettering seems easier than looking at the Witcher himself. “Did Jaskier put you up to this?” she teases half-heartedly.

Geralt exhales on a chuckle. “Something like. Threatened to garrote me with a lute string.”

She smiles, in spite of herself. When she lifts her head and meets his eyes, it takes a moment to catch her breath. For a few heartbeats, she simply stares. Gods, he is still so beautiful. She swallows hard and feels her throat go dry.

“Did you mean what you wrote?” she asks.

“You know I did, Zee.”

Gold eyes go guarded again. He doesn’t go totally cold, but she can see the way he builds up his walls to prepare for the worst. He steps forward. Second-guesses – stops.

“What I do – what I am – I can’t change it,” he rumbles. “I’m still a Witcher, Zahra. A mutant. I can’t… I can’t give you normal, sweetheart – ”

“Gods, Geralt - fuck normal.”

---

“Fuck normal.”

She says it with such passionate certainty that it startles a laugh out of him. The soft yellow of her skirt floats like woven sunlight around her legs. Like the sun, it almost hurts to look at her, but fuck all, that’s all he wants to do. He watches her face, watches her chew her lip; feels his slow pulse try to speed up when she steps closer. His fingers itch to curl around her waist.

“I never asked for normal, Geralt,” she whispers. The way her voice cracks pulls tight around his heart. “I don’t want normal. I want you. That’s it. Can… can you give me that, or no?”

The Witcher’s footfalls carry him to her. He studies her face; re-acquaints himself with the curve of her cheek and the dimple that presses there. She all but melts into his touch when his thumb brushes her cheek. He pulls her into the circle of his arms. She’s still soft, and warm; he closes his eyes, feels his muscles go lax with relief when she holds fast, locking her arms around his back. Geralt presses his face against the smooth curve of her shoulder.

It feels like stepping into the light of the sun after ages in cold and rain. “I love you, Zahra,” he breathes.

Her soft, tearful laugh settles warm into his heart. “I love you, Geralt.”

He gives a pleased murmur, lets the tip of his nose trail lazy circles over her shoulder. When he inhales, the warm, soft smell of her skin eases back into his lungs. From shoulder to neck, the Witcher draws in slow breaths and ghosts his lips over the exposed skin he finds until Zahra shivers. “What are you doing, Witcher?” she whispers, breathless.

“Hmm… taking your scent back,” he mumbles. “I missed this smell.”

His lips ease along the shell of her ear. She still gasps when he nips at the crux of her jaw. “I missed you, love,” he growls.

Geralt takes his time. He savors the smell and the taste of her skin, humming lowly when Zahra’s hands grip at his back. The sweetness of her begins to bloom with heat, with the richness of desire – want – and when he sets his teeth gently against her pulse point, she moans delicately. Insistent fingers tangle in his hair; she whispers his name and pulls him to her lips. She kisses him like a woman starved and it feels like his heart might thunder its way free of his chest. He lifts her onto the edge of the desk and comes to stand between her parted thighs, gathering the soft yellow cotton of her skirts up. Her fingers yank at the buttons on his trousers.

It’s a quick, desperate of coupling. Mingled breath and bitten off sighs – greedy kisses with fingers gripped in the front of his shirt. She flutters hotly around his cock with a whimper and a curse. He groans against her mouth when he comes. Zahra drinks down the noise with a grin on her lips.

Geralt stays put for more than a year. It’s good.

The Path still calls, and he still follows, but she finds she’s able to let go of the fear. It’s no longer a question of ‘if’ but ‘when’ in terms of Geralt’s return. And if he knows it’s going to be a long journey, or if the mood simply strikes him, he writes -

I miss you.

I love you.

Sometimes no more than a line, sometimes full paragraphs – even pages – but he always tells her when he plans to return. When he’ll be home.

It’s nearly spring next time he rides back in, market day in full swing as he passes through the township gate with Roach at his side. Vendors call their wares, families and merchants wander the stalls as he peers out from the shadow of his cloak. He finds the trail of Zahra’s scent past the cloying smell of cut flowers and rounds to corner to find her chatting with the butcher’s daughter.

The younger woman catches his gaze. Geralt watches the girl grin and give his woman – his woman – a nudge, nodding in his direction. Zahra is already smiling when she turns, and the Witcher has the pleasure of watching her face flash from surprise to joy in the space of a heartbeat. She moves to him, a walk that becomes a jog, and then a final sprint that launches her into his arms. He curls his free arm tight around her waist. Immediately, he has his face pressed to her hair. Zahra’s laughter rings softly in his ears when she draws back, just enough to look up into his face.

At her throat, the polished wolf’s tooth is bright against her brown skin. “Welcome home, my love,” she murmurs.

The greeting settles warm over him like the sunlight. Geralt pulls her close again, kissing her in full view of half the town. She shivers sweetly in his arms and pulls her fingers through his hair. He hears a wolf-whistle, and a smattering of applause that makes Zahra giggle against his mouth.

“People are staring,” she teases softly.

He smirks. “Let them,” he tells her before kissing her once more. She tastes of clover honey.

She smells of sunshine.

She feels like home.

#geralt of rivia #geralt x oc #geralt of rivia x ofc #geralt x ofc #the witcher #oc: zahra auberel #orignal character #the witcher netflix #fanfic #fanfiction #the wench and the witcher #tutu scribbles

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roccinan · 3 years ago

Text

I love myself, but not today

*gasp* Me? Actually writing on a writing blog??? Shocking!

I don’t really know where I was going with this or if I’ll ever expand it and post to AO3 so for now, this drabble stays here. It’s a character study/backstory exploration for Andres (again, not exactly a headcanon I 100% believe, just an idea with some darker turns). Goes with Alvaro’s “same father” hc and can be read as compliant with Corners and also Hermanito (to a smaller extent)

Warnings: referenced child abuse, referenced illness and drug abuse, implied sexual abuse, misogyny/sexism, references to child birth, POV 2nd person, intentional vagueness

Relationships: Mostly Andres-centric (asdfasdf no I do not condone whatever’s going on in his head); a side of #hermanos, some berlermo foreshadowing if you squint

Not sure if anyone will read this, but if you do, hope you like this experimental chunk.

I love myself, but not today

Your name is Andrés de Fonollosa. And you’re a son of a bitch. Anyone who knows a lick or two about you will say you’re a fucker from hell. A bullet for a heart and a cock for a brain. They’ll call you a vile, wicked thing that should have died in your mother’s womb. But you know it’s not true. Because the truth is, you are much, much worse.

There is a man inside you (one day you’ll give him a name), festering under skin like the once-swell of your mother’s belly. If you’re in the mood for lying, you can say he was born on a sour day, the exact hour you felt the twitch of Mamá’s nerves in your dying bones. But no, no. This man has lived with you since your first breath. You can say he fed on you until he broke out, a grinning thing of blood and teeth.

But the truth is-- he fed you.

Your life is hell. You don’t need anyone to tell you. You learned all about hell before heaven ever crossed your mind. You knew dirt before you thought of clouds. Knew the taste of iron and salt years before sugar touched your tongue. Back then- at least- you can admit, “Andrés de Fonollosa” did nothing for you. He doesn’t stand between you and the cigarette kissing your skin, doesn’t wipe the piss from your mother’s legs, doesn’t stop the hands tugging at your hair. You owe Andrés nothing and you owe (you’ll give him a name one day, this man you nursed since birth) everything.

You love your mother, or so you say. That’s what sons do. But when she looks at you, there’s a message between her dull eyes, one that says, “I wish you were never born.” It’s a silly thought from a feeble thing. Women, you decide, are fragile and weak. (No, a little voice says, they used to be strong, until you looked over the shoulder of her lover and saw her sobbing in a corner, withered bones and wasted salt, doing nothing to stop the blood from leaking off your lip.)

You love your mother, or so you think. You cannot say the same for your father. But in spite of your best efforts, she leaves you in hell. Once, to the powder because it’s all she can procure. And twice, when her eyes glaze over atop wet sheets. You think you should let her die. Think she might as well have died when you dragged yourself out of her womb, a warhead choking on her cord. A stretching, wrinkled piece of flesh, the prune that your father left. You won your fight with her before she even had the chance to strike.

Maybe if you had his face, she would be happier. You don’t know. You’ve never been lucky, but you like to gamble. So even as a babe, you chose to wear her face instead of his. A ghost of who she was, a challenge from your birth.

You don’t cry when Mamá dies. Because she’s not dead, not really, not when her phantom lives in your face, your blood.

Someone says you look like a woman, but maybe he meant to say you look like your mother. It doesn’t matter. You crush his nose with the flat of your hand. Cartilage crumbles under your palm like clay. It’s not so hard to hold your own after that.

Then you think of crawling out of hell, swimming off when no one’s lurking. Looking. But you’re a spiteful thing. Not a coward, you tell yourself. Only a son of a bitch who finally grew a fucking spine. So you turn back and climb down.

This is your den, your hell. And you are king.

It won’t be long before you learn of the sanctity of marriage, or so you claim. Before you dip your toes into the power of vows and a whiff of luxury always at the tip of your brain, you almost settle for a vapid face and cheap lipstick. Between your girl and the widow who offered to teach you French, you don’t really care who kisses you so long as there’s someone to hold your dick. (A woman, though, always a woman. Never a man. Never again.)

Until she traces the scar- one among many- on your hip one night, whispering her hand down the jagged edge. She says she likes it, “sexy, manly, a battle scar.” It’s a wakeup call. You end things there, and you don’t care if she cries and screams and calls you a bastard fucked in the head (what else is new?). You’re not going to waste any more time on the smell of cigarettes and dust on the road.

She called it a battle scar. But you know it’s a sign of defeat, an angry mark on skin that tells the world you’re nothing better than a rat on the street. No different from the men that claw at each other’s throats over anything so much as bristled pride. Your pride is of a different sort, a dignity you no longer want to lose.

Some men aim to kill. Others aim to hurt. And you, you aim to prove a point.

And you’ve wasted enough of your youth on blood and spittle, in some effort to keep the reins of your domain. So you leave without a word. You are a gentleman, or so you say. From now on, you have a goal. You’ll walk up the hill of dirt, even if you have to limp, and pull yourself up to the looming sky. You will wash the blood off with soap and spend the rest of your life with silk and cotton, and preferably a docile, coy bride (or two, three, maybe five) at the altar. You dream of Dulcinea’s arms and a bed in the clouds, the farthest you can fly from the rotting dirt that birthed you.

No one will scar you again. And it doesn’t matter what you do to keep it that way. Better them than you, after all.

Then your father dies. He leaves a boy behind, a boy who until now, you believed grew up with everything you made do without. You see him out of spite, because no matter which pelt you choose, you’ll always be a bastard through and through. You hear that he’s frail, as pitiful as you are strong, and you think it’s mighty funny that your father built him so much worse than he built you. A pungent taste of irony, the gleeful voice says.

But when you finally speak to him, that tart voice dies, and the road shifts beneath your feet. He comes to call you “Andrés,” without a trace of disdain on his tongue. Only “Andrés.” With a needy timbre he tries to hide. His hand too shy to touch yours, even after days, weeks, months. He says, “Andrés” and you can hear the concern floating within, the faint hope that you can love him back. He calls you “Andrés” as if you were always Andrés, not something spat out and told to die.

Your name is Andrés de Fonollosa. And you’re a son of a bitch. You come from hell. But the thread of light that lures you out isn’t a hill of dirt or a sunny sky. It’s the voice of your brother and the shy smile on his lips. The Isaac to your Ishmael.

Sergio Marquina is, you think, the first spot of light in your wretched life.

----

The second spot of light is an accent from across the sea.

#not sure how to tag this #umm???#drabble #I have ZERO idea if this style works or not LMAO #I guess 'corners' was just on my mind again #originally wanted to include more of Martin in the last line but the drabble was too empty anyway #I don't think it'd flow unless I fleshed the whole thing out #but if I did that it wouldn't be a drabble anymore asdfasdfadf #me @ me: we are showing self control for once!!

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the-darklings · 5 years ago

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—WE WERE A FIRE WITH NO SMOKE;

pairing: santino x reader (V) x (+john)

wc: 1.4k+

an: HAPPY NEW YEARS YA FILTHY ANIMALS!!! A little surprise something-something to tide you all over and flex my writing muscles to see how I’m getting on after 4-day detox from writing. I’m honestly exhausted and short on sleep which made me half-delirious and this little drabble wayyy too h*rny but here we are. Also, the title/lyrics for this piece comes from Troye Sivan’s “DKLA” and I highly recommend you listen to it while reading.

warnings: some bad words and a lot of sexual tension 👀

timeline: post chapter 1 of COA, pre-Tokyo (not their first meeting).

Santino D’Antonio does not know nor understand subtlety.

No—that’s not quite right. His “business” instincts are sharper than most of your blades and that’s just facts. He can effortlessly weave between disarming charm and rage that spills blood in a blink of an eye. He’s a good mobster. Truly Italy’s—Camorra’s—finest. But he’s irritatingly arrogant in his insistence that the world revolves around him and his needs alone. Even quicker in betraying those he doesn’t like and cutting loose ends with people who so much as question his authority.

Egoistical. Inpatient. Spoiled. Bloodthirsty. Willing to step over anyone to get his way.

There isn’t much to like. Certainly nothing worthy of trust.

But he pays good money. And—despite what he may think—he’s easy to read. He wants what everyone in the underworld wants. More power, more pleasure, more money. But most importantly, to be the next Camorra head.

He’s powerful. And not the kind of powerful you need as your enemy so it’s easier to play nice. You know that the reason you got off as easy as you did with that threat to his life was simply because he wants to sleep with you. Because he sees you as a challenge, a conquest, something interesting and out of his immediate reach.

He’s handsome, that much is true. He’s beyond rich and has influence everywhere because he’s Camorra. Because he’s a D’Antonio. He’s all sly, seductive suggestions and eyes so bright they devour.

There’s only one problem.

He’s not John.

John who is a comforting shadow for you to curl into. Who is a steady, ever-present by your side. John is—

John is the only person you trust—the only one you could ever trust in this world of liars and backstabbers. Your mind drifts towards him constantly and never more so then when you work with D’Antonio. They’re as different as day and night.

John is a comforting embrace of the dark, quiet and patient. Deadly and terrifying to others but never you.

Santino D’Antonio is an open flame. He devours, he burns, and rages. He leaves only blood and damage in his wake.

John you love.

D’Antonio on the other hand…

“Target has his eyes on us,” you speak directly into his ear over the sound of blaring music, and tighten your arms around his neck. Noting the way you’re being watched, you hiss a soft, “Pull me closer.”

He doesn’t need to be told again.

His already wandering, lingering, greedy hands and eyes explore further. Your eyes meet for a moment; his hungry and hooded, while his fingers sink into the swell of your hip, massaging the skin there before pushing your hips together. You sway with him, pressing against him—into him—one hand snaking up the hot skin of his neck and into his hair. The styled curls crumble under your unyielding grip and you pull him even closer, your foreheads almost touching and breaths mingling.

Wrapped my thoughts around your mind

Wrapped your body around mine.

You have to be convincing, you remind yourself.

You have to appear as nothing more than another whore on D’Antonio’s arm.

You have to be a nobody, a shadow, a shell without purpose other than this man’s pleasure.

You think about John with every press and brush of your skin.

Think of John’s hands on you and John’s obsidian eyes caressing you like you’re lovers moments away from kissing each other.

You take my breath away, you know I'm bound to choke

When I close my eyes. I still see your ghost.

But Santino D’Antonio doesn’t touch you like John does.

He caresses, and claims, and consumes with a startling amount of intensity. You feel that fire of his singeing your edges, dangerous and seductive in its overpowering heat.

His fingers are sunk into you, not enough to hurt but enough to feel held, guided, desired and the music becomes nothing more than a pulse.

His hot, wet breath burns against the hollow of your throat and you feel him mumbling something into your skin. It could be a prayer or damnation or both but all you know is that it sears into your skin. A mark, a show, of his raw desire for you. It tingles and tickles, kicking your heartbeat up a notch and your grip on his curls constricts; a warning, a question—

You don’t even like him. In fact, you only tolerate him because he’s willing to throw money at you for jobs that can help you get your freedom from Tarasov faster.

But human bodies are so simple. The draw on a purely physical level is there despite your lacklustre opinion of the man himself.

He doesn’t make it any easier when his eyes lift to you, his stare almost a physical weight of heated want. A man starved; a man who is staring at your mouth like it’s the only thing that can save him right now. Like he needs it, craves it, above everything else.

If half the stories about his sexual exploits are true, then it’s a look many have crumbled under. Truth be told, looking at him right now, you can’t blame them. There is, admittedly, something so raw about Santino D’Antonio that you can’t help but wonder what kind of lover he is.

So what do I do now?

I don't keep love around.

But Santino D’Antonio is nothing in your heart. Your heart is John’s in its awful, worn entirety and you won’t trade that in for meaningless sex no matter how good D’Antonio might be.

The tempo of the song changes again and he tugs you closer, his hand coming to rest against the curve of your neck. His cool Camorra ring grazes your skin lightly, and your head tilts to the side exposing your neck to him. He leans into it, his lips ghosting over your pulse, hungry and eager as he inhales deeply over the thrum of music. But across the sturdy line of his shoulder, you watch your mark intently.

“D’Antonio, he’s moving—”

“Santino,” he breathes hotly into your ear, his arm around your waist tightening. “Call me Santino.”

It stills something inside you for a second.

The heavy, naked need that lowers and wrecks his voice just so.

It’s an honour. An heir allowing you to address them by their first name, considering that you hold no real power or title of your own. But something about how he asks for it leaves you cold, caught completely off guard.

It feels like too much.

There is a boundary you will never step over with him.

Some arrogant Italian princeling who only wants your body for quick gratification.

“Should I pursue?”

He stills. His breath still fans against your neck but his expression is serious when his head lifts. His fingers trace up your bare arm, slow and sensual, and he grins slightly, coolly. Neon lights dance over his features and wonder what you both look like, tangled in each other and suddenly still in a sea of movement.

“Bring him to me.”

You do.

No loose ends.

The man you only know as Flynn Hill dies with your poison eroding his veins from inside out. In the darkness of the alleyway, Santino D’Antonio looms over him, smiling and satisfied, his appearance once again immaculate.

“Everything has a price,” he says coldly in Italian with a clinical tilt of his head and a small scoff when the man stills. “Pathetic.”

He turns dismissively, shrugs on his overcoat, and glances towards you. His eyes sweep over you, up and down, unhurried and hungry as always.

“Coming, cara mia?”

Cara mia?

You turn to face him, and repeat his earlier gesture by looking him up and down. His gaze sharpens at the challenge, and you don’t miss the way he straightens slightly.

Just like you thought—he doesn’t know subtlety. It could smack him in the face and he still won’t know it.

“The drinks are on you and I’m not cheap,” you hesitate for a beat, considering the man in front of you as well as his pack of guards scattered around you. “Santino.”

You sidestep him, heading back towards the club but hear the man chuckle in delight behind you.

“Everything has a price,” he repeats softly as he falls to your side promptly. Close, a bit too close. “But it’s one I am happy to pay in this instance, cara mia.”

You bite back an irritated sigh. Let him have this. He no doubt thinks this is a victory.

That night is the first time he uses those words and that nickname.

It’s far from last.

. . .

an: well this literally had one read through as an edit so if this is awful and full of mistakes.....guess that’s tomorrow kat’s problem lol. just wanted to see how I get on with writing again (and surprise you lot <33 thank you for supporting this series so much oh god oof).

This piece dips back a bit more into my old style (description heavy and more internal) but writing V who is like “this man clearly wants to bang but it’s a no from me, thanks” is so funny. If I wasn’t half dead I would have tried to write this as more snarky (as V indeed was back in Chapter 1-2) but that actually requires brainpower and wit so nahhhh.

also, let’s make 2020 ours. no more putting up with anything!!! let’s go!!!! this year we all channel V and become stronger and fight through our problems no matter how long it takes us.

#santino d'antonio x reader #john wick x reader #santino d'antonio #john wick #john wick imagine #john wick fic #fic: children of ares #s: i can wait

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nickysurfer28 · 4 years ago

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Disclaimer: I found these pictures on Pinterest and I do not claim these as mine.

Note: I joined in on @star-spangled-beard-burn first ever writing challenge. #SeasonsofFiction2020

This was one of the writing prompts I picked so I hope I did this right. Lol 😂 if any mistakes...sorry.

Camping trips...what could go wrong? /With Johnny storm

Pairing: Johnny storm x female reader

Word count: one shot/short drabble

Warning ⚠️: 18 + only, some nudity, fluff and fires and swearing.

This camping trip was supposed to the trip of summer. You and your boyfriend Johnny storm been planning this for awhile now. Johnny begged you if he could rent out a Rv for the camping trip. You couldn’t say no to his charming ways.

“Fine, Johnny but nothing over the top.” Johnny pouted. “Aww..come on babe”.You crossed your arms to state your point. Johnny love to see you get upset. He thought it was the cutest thing ever.

Johnny came over towering you and scooped you up in his strong arms. “Okay. babe..I’ll rent some reasonable for the trip.” He gave his famous smile you couldn’t resist. You leaned in and kissed his lips. “I mean it Johnny.. nothing crazy okay”.He nod in agreement.

He gently put you back down and kissed your forehead. He skipped away like a little kid over to the laptop to make the arrangements for the trip.You started packing your bags and you figured while you’re at you might as well pack johnny’s things as well. He always waits to pack at the last minute anyways.

Johnny came in the room strutting his latest Fantastic Four suit it was cover it logos. You gave him that look. “Really Johnny, isn’t that a bit much?” He was stretching and kicking his legs out in the air. “What?..doesn’t look great!” He looked so happy like a kid in a candy store.

“Those are a lot of patches..it kind of looks ridiculous.” He sighed. “Whatever..what do you got against capitalism?” You chuckled. “Nothing, it’s just a bit over the top, but if you like it then that’s fine.” He stripped off his new suit revealing his chiseled body.

You couldn’t help but gawk at the site of his gorgeous body. He noticed you staring up and down his body. “Enjoying the site, sweetheart?” Your face turn bright red. “Of course...uh.. why wouldn’t I ... you’re my boyfriend.” He laughed. “I’m just teasing you.”

He walked over towards you and held you In his arms. You buried you face in his chest. Breathing in his fire ash scent that you grown accustom to. He kissed your forehead. You looked up into his blue eyes.

You could get lost in those eyes of his. He leaned in closer and gently kissed your lips. “Alright babe I’m gonna go play some video games and I’ll let you finish packing.” He kissed your lips again. You stood there bewildered.

Johnny went into the walking closet and put on his favorite t-shirt and sweatpants. “Catch ya on the flip side babe.” He clapped his hands and skipped off into the living room. You finished packing everything and settled in for the night. Johnny was still playing videos games late in the night.

Next morning.

Everything was ready to go. Johnny was already downstairs waiting for you by the Rv. When you finally reached the lobby you noticed a large fancy Rv parked outside. “Oh no what has he done.” You sighed deeply to yourself.

“Didn’t I say nothing fancy.” Johnny with his arms wide open showing the you turn Rv like it’s the price is right. “Isn’t it great!” You shake your head.

“I thought it wasn’t going to be anything fancy?” He pouted. “Aww..come on babe, it’s fully loaded with everything we need for the camping trip.” You just sighed. “Whatever..let’s go.”

You entered the Rv, everything was state of the art high tech inside. Everything looked great but you just wanted to go on a simple camping trip nothing fancy. Just you and Johnny enjoying the fresh air of nature and camping out in a tent. You sat down in the plush seat waiting for Johnny.

“Aww come on .. don’t make that face.” You just stared at him. He leaned down and kissed your forehead. You couldn’t stay that mad at him for too long. You just giggled. “Lets just make the best of this trip.” He had the the biggest smile on his face. “Yess!”.

Finally arrived at the camping site and parked the Rv near the lake. It was almost nightfall. After you both got settled, meaning Johnny’s idea of camping since he got this fancy Rv which all he had to do was press a few buttons and everything outside was setup for roasting s’mores by the fire. Everything looked great...but the fire pit wasn’t working.

“Uh.. Johnny the fire pit didn’t turn on.” Johnny wasn’t too please about it. “Oh come on!.. I payed good money for this and the stupid fire pit doesn’t work.” You started bursting into laughter. Johnny looked at you puzzled.

“Johnny...you’re the human torch... you can light this on fire.” He felt like an idiot for not realizing his fire powers. “Hahaha...real funny babe.” Johnny positioned himself to get ready. “Flame on!!” His whole body lit on fire. He out stretched his hands and the fire pit came to life. “Wow you are handy.” You chuckled at him.

He gave you a look. “Seriously.” Not noticing that some of the fire bounced off onto the trees. You noticed the fire started rising up the tree and getting worse. “ Uh.. Johnny... I think you did more then just the fire pit.” He just looked at you. “What?” It was too late the trees started to engulf in flames, spreading around like wildfire. “Oh shit!” Johnny yelled.

“Johnny seriously..what else could go wrong?!”. He looked like he was trying to figure out something. “Shit ..shit shit...” you started freaking out. “Oh gosh the fire is spreading all over!” Johnny shot up in the air to see how far the fire was spreading. “Oh crap.”

He flew back down. “Babe.. I think we need to leave and call the wildlife park rangers.”

“Is it is that bad Uh?..yeah because I don’t have any powers to put this fire out.” You pulled out your cellphone, you only had one bar showing signal. “I’m gonna try and call so they can put this fire out.” The fire started getting worse ..it started twirling and dancing around.

Johnny quickly grabbed you and flew out in the sky. You screamed as you almost dropped your cellphone out from your hand. “Johnny!!! Wait..” You could feel the heat of his body flying thru the air. Johnny quickly landed and placed you on the ground. “Sorry.. but I had to get you out there.” He turned off his flame.

“I’m okay..thanks...so now what are we gonna do?” He looked puzzled. “Uh.. did you call the wildlife people?” You didn’t realize your cellphone was still on and you can hear someone speaking over the speaker. You told them everything. They sent out fire rescue to stop the spread of the fire.

After a few hours, everything was settled. Johnny noticed you were upset. “I’m sorry babe..I should of been more careful.” You looked up at him. “It’s okay..at least we’re safe.” Johnny felt bad about what happened. “Is there anyway I can make it up to you?”. You had an idea. “Why yes I do.” You giggled. Johnny had a worried look on his face.

Back at the apartment...

Johnny finished putting up the tent and everything was setup nicely. The fake camp fire and all the snacks you could eat. You came up to the roof top with some extra blankets. “Oh wow everything looks great,” Johnny seem pleased with his work. “Right!” All you could do was laugh. “Yeah especially the fake campfire.” Johnny laughed. “Yeah.. let’s not do that again.”

Tags: @star-spangled-beard-burn @denisemarieangelina @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @jtargaryen18 @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho @daliaevans @pine-fresh-kirk @iguessweallcrazyithinktho @iamwhoiamtmblr @mizcaptainphoenix @trishevans @branflakes82 @brilliantkey @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @ok-buchanan @princess-evans-addict @waywardodysseys @tanyam93 @donutloverxo @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @chris-butt @patzammit @imanuglywombat @nomadevans82 @jennmurawski13 @twittytelly @littlefiercequeen @gothamlovr91 @captainchrisstan @comebackandhauntme21 @amazonx @jms358 @bellaireland1981 @shreyaaaaaaaaaaaa @megan-meg-chrisevanswifey @southerngracela @thatgirly81 @katiew1973 @kelbabyblue @shortacouplebuckys @wintrcaptn @kellyn1604 @rolling-with-mahomies @et-lesailes @worksby-d @captaincrazyexlover @thatsxamericasxass @nbarnes @americasass91

#SeasonsofFiction2020 Campingtrips...whatcouldgwrong johnnystormfic johnnystorm2020writing

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