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crookedkryptonitebeliever · 9 months ago

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Best and Worst of Both Worlds (part 36)

Tw: medical stuff, needles

This chapter is just flexing how Yves is this barbie character who had done all the jobs

Part 37

You twiddle your fingers as you wait for Yves to come back. He told you that his souvenirs were in his car, so he had to collect them.

Yves left his handbag next to you. He only took his keys with him.

Your fingers twitched as you fought back the urge to go through his items again, wondering what else he had packed after coming back from his trip. It looks slightly bigger than the previous one.

In the end, you decided not to. Instead, you went for your phone and skimmed through your notifications. Most of which are from nosy acquaintances asking you about what happened. They must have known it was you, because no one else wanted to associate themselves with Evangeline.

You frowned. It reminded you of the horrific incident and the fact that you didn't have a lot of real friends.

Yves's words during the first few days interacting with him stuck in your head, he told you that you tend to pull away when someone begins to reciprocate your willingness to form a bond; as a form of self protection. Well, you tried not doing that with Evangeline, look where it got you.

You reflected some more.

But then, you did lean into Yves's affection, albeit reluctantly at first. It earned you a beautiful, wealthy and caring boyfriend.

You took a deep breath and sighed. Looks like it depends on luck then. Is there really no way to discern whether a person will turn out to be another Yves or Evangeline? You still wanted friends as you belong to a social species after all, and you need to build up your contacts for the future of your career.

Perhaps you could use Yves as a litmus test. His instincts were right with the blonde, it would be very likely he could tell if someone is good for you or not.

But it left a bad taste in your mouth thinking that you have to rely on him for something as seemingly trivial as this. Are you really that hopeless? Do you really need your boyfriend to decide who you should hang out with?

You don't even know who his friends are! He must have loads, he's an older man with tonnes of experience, unlike a fresh-out-the-womb 20-something struggling with homework. This doesn't seem very fair, isn't it?

You need to find an appropriate time to bring this up to him. It wouldn't be nice if you were to ask him about it while you're opening his imported gifts.

The door opening caught your attention. It's your nurse. She gave you a polite yet tired smile and told you that she was going to prepare your next dose of IV antibiotics.

You watched her flutter around the dressing trolley, following proper procedures as she worked her way around glass vials and numerous needles. God knows what powder or liquid was she working with, but you just knew her pace was fast, rushed, even. Of course, she must have done this more times than you can count, you put your full trust into this nurse of yours.

She hung the infusion bag onto the metal stand. You were so invested in her movements that you didn't notice the door opened and someone else entered your room.

She was about to flush your cannula with saline, bringing the syringe onto the opening but suddenly a familiar, well-manicured hand shot out to restrain her wrist, preventing the professional from proceeding further. The pressure applied to her joint must be quite high, as she winced at the slender fingers digging into her gloved flesh.

You and her snapped your neck to Yves, who had a wide-eyed glower directed at your nurse.

"Careless." He spat, glaring daggers at your medical caretaker.

You looked at the setup. Everything seems fine to you, and you were embarrassed that Yves overreacted. What does he know about these? He's a mathematician, not a medical doctor. Yves ignored the uncomfortable expression on your face and continued scrutinizing the nurse under his dour stare.

His harsh comment made her recheck her work, from the contents of the syringe to the state of the tubing. She jolted in shock at her errors and sputtered apologies, she asked if Yves could let her go so that she could correct her mistakes.

"No. Fetch me your supervisor." Yves was undeniably stern, you even felt prosecuted despite his words not being directed towards you.

She wordlessly nodded, only then did Yves let her go. She scurried out of the room, leaving you and Yves alone.

Yves sanitized his hands, using the pump bottle of rubbing alcohol from the metal trolley. You were alarmed when he went ahead to reclamp your cannula himself.

You voiced your concerns over his actions, nervously eyeing when he took an alcohol wipe without prior permission to disinfect the opening. Was what she did so terrible, that Yves has to leave her to the brink of tears?

"Her negligence would have killed you, (name)." Yves nonchalantly stated as he disposed of the wrapper and wipes into a biohazardous waste bin.

You asked how so.

He lifted up the syringe that was about to inject sterile fluids into your cannula.

"Air bubbles." You saw that there was a small gap between the mouth and the liquid surface.

Yves sets it down back onto its tray, crossing his arms before turning his attention to the tubing. It's resting on the floor. "Contamination."

Yves picked it up and brought it nearer to your face, tracing his finger along it to show you the numerous air bubbles in the line. "Failure to prime."

He dropped it back onto the floor. Yves shook his head in disapproval when he looked at the label plastered onto the IV bag. "Wrong medication. It's a wonder how she managed to even step foot into a healthcare institution as anything other than a patient."

Yves tucked stray strands of his hair behind his ear. He stared at your astonished face, he knew you had a plethora of questions that you wanted to ask him. But all he did was smile before planting a kiss on your forehead, ruining his previous cleanup as there was a clear lipstick print on your otherwise clean forehead.

That was kiss number 48. You missed how the corners of his lips twitched downwards momentarily, Yves needs to control himself more. He wouldn't want you to be sick of him again so soon.

You had your attention on the door when a knock was heard. The door opens and a head poked in, someone who you didn't recognize. You assume that it's the Nurse's manager.

"Mr. Yves...?" She called.

Your boyfriend affectionately cups your face, staring into your eyes for a bit, as if silently telling you that he will be back later. He let you go and took his handbag with him, he didn't say a word until the door was closed.

Yves came back a while later, surprising you with his hair neatly tied into a bun.

"Hello again, beloved." He greeted you, placing his bag onto a chair. Yves rolled up his sleeves, revealing his sculpted forearms with old scars and washed his hands using the sink and soap dispenser installed in your room. You noted that he took his time doing so.

He dried it properly with the paper towels provided.

"I will be your attending nurse today." He threw the damp towel into the trashbin. Yves then disinfected his hands one more time using the rubbing alcohol from the dressing trolley. "...and tomorrow."

You thought and prayed hard that it was a joke. But it was clear it wasn't, when he began preparing your IV antibiotic drip like how the nurse did it, except he's doing it much more fluidly and confidently. There were steps that you didn't remember her doing, but his dexterity in utilizing the syringes, mixing the drug and even removing the packages was immaculate.

"...and the day after that." He continued, removing the previous infusion bag from the IV stand. Yves replaced it with a newly prepared packet. "...Until I deem you healthy enough to be discharged."

Your eyes were trained on his fingers, which are toggling with the roller clamp. Your eyes darted everywhere as he pierced, pinch and twist as needed. He never once spared a glance at your increasingly agitated state.

You told him only the doctor can make this decision for you.

He chuckled as if you told him something funny. "Then, I will be your attending doctor as well." Yves went ahead and flicked the tubing thoroughly until there were no air bubbles left. He then tucked it safely onto the clamp, ensuring that it didn't touch anywhere else.

You looked around, is there no one to stop him? Is this even allowed?

He disinfected his hands one more time with rubbing alcohol. You asked why he isn't using a pair of gloves.

"Gloves... used in administering Intravenous Infusions like this are mainly to protect the medical personnel from infection." Said Yves as he cleaned the cannula opening with an alcohol wipe. "I am not handling anyone else and the ones they're providing are non-sterile. I might as well use my bare, thoroughly disinfected hands."

Yves unclamped your cannula. "My skin is intact." He continued, flicking the syringe filled with sterile fluid and pushing the piston up to expel any fatal air bubbles. "I practiced proper hand hygiene. There is no risk of contamination." He assured.

Before you could protest, Yves already flushed the tube to ensure it was patent. You kept your mouth shut, hoping that he truly knows what he is doing and not sending you to an early grave.

You squeezed your eyes shut and let him do his magic. There was a sudden beep from the heart monitor next to you.

"(name)."

You turned to look at him. He looked at you with softened eyes.

"I know what I am doing."

Only after that, you realize your laborious breathing. There was something in his voice that calmed you down, enough to show your heart rate has slowed to a normal resting speed.

He completed the administration, taping the tube and cannula to your wrist using surgical tape.

You watched him adjust the drip rate, double-checking his work before cleaning everything up.

You were dumbfounded. Who is Yves? A wealthy mathematic researcher, who was once an attorney, lecturer, perhaps even a parole officer and now, an ex qualified Nurse and doctor?

He rolled his sleeves back down after drying his skin. Yves then took his time to write something down on a logbook that's strangely empty save for your name and details. He scribbled the name of your antibiotic, dose and signature.

He closed it and kept it away. Yves turned to you and caressed your cheek.

"Yes, my love?" He responded to your incessant staring. Yves sat on the edge of your bed as he began playing with your hair.

You have too many questions, they all tried coming out but it's jammed in your mind. So you sealed your lips and shook your head, dismissing his attention.

He smiled, giving you another on the forehead.

That was kiss #49.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere male #oc yves #yandere concept #tw yandere #yandere x you #yandere oc x reader #male yandere oc x reader

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evansbby · 5 months ago

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Would you be willing to rank your favourite people from Vanderpump rules since you finished season 2?

Lol I like to ask all my friends to do that (we are friends idc what you have to say about that) and get their opinions after every season to see how much changed

Oh bestie I love you for asking me this bc I really thought I was yapping into the void and nobody cared about me watching this show bahahah

1. Stassi!! She’ll always be my number one! Of course she’s not perfect and can be controlling and bossy at times but there are parts of her that I admire so much. Like her confidence, how she has every man literally eating out of the palm of her hand and bending over backwards for her, how she doesn’t settle, how she knows exactly what she wants. And she was great in season 2, I love how graphic she gets with her imagery when describing things. Like someone asked her “what would you do if your boyfriend threw his drink at you” and she was like “I would cut his dick off and put a stick through it and barbecue it” or smth along those lines 😂😂😂 it’s so unhinged yet hilarious. I really felt for her when she found out Kristen and Jax slept together, and the way she staged the whole exposing Kristen at the club thing was amazing! That backhand was iconic lmfao.

2. Tom Sandoval. He’s problematic in season 2 bc he cheated on Kristen multiple times BUT he really brought the drama this season! Like he’s up here for entertainment purposes. And him punching Jax on the forehead was so satisfying. And honestly I did feel for him at times lmao. Him and Kristen’s drama had me sat and invested and was way more interesting than Jax/Stassi drama.

3. Kristen. Again, she’s super problematic but she brought the drama this season just like Tom so she deserves to be up here lol. She’s crazy though… like the way she behaves is honestly UNHINGED. Acting so sad about being cheated on when the whole time she was also cheating on Tom and with JAX is crazy. But she was super entertaining and I felt for her at times too. This season would’ve been nothing without her and Tom.

4. Kristina??? Idk if her name is Kristina or Katrina but the brunette skinny friend I feel like she’s so cool and pretty and talks a lot of sense haha.

5. Katie — she’s so boring to look at and listen to and her blonde hair was awful. But I did feel for her when her boyfriend threw his drink at her. I don’t understand why she’s still with that loser. I do feel like she’s a bit of a follower though, like she does whatever Stassi tells her to do.

6. Scheana. She’s just so blah! Like she tries to be fun and entertaining but her parts are so boring and she’s not bringing ANY drama. Like literally everyone else is surpassing her bc they actually bring drama. Although Scheana needs to be studied fr, she gives strong pick me energy and I can understand why none of the girls seem to trust her fully.

7. Jax. I get such an astronomical ick from this man. Like he just grosses me out at this point. His looks, his actions, everything! Like I can’t even hate on him anymore bc he’s so lame and nobody in the friend group even takes him seriously anymore. He’s 1000% a psychopath though, the way he felt zero remorse for fucking his best friend’s girlfriend who was also his ex girlfriend’s best friend. Weirdo fr.

8. Ariana. I hate her so much. Like I have zero respect for her and don’t care at all for her “chill badass girl” persona. She’s a homewrecker and the way she straight up lied when asked if something happened between her and Tom??? I don’t trust her at all. Lookswise she annoys me too like why is her hair so aggressively side parted??? Like I genuinely think Kristen is way prettier than her. Also joke’s on Ariana bc the way she probably thought Tom would never cheat on her. But once a cheater always a cheater and I know Tom cheated on Ariana like last year!!! But fuck her I feel zero sympathy!

#anon #vanderpump rules

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stormflypirateskin · 3 years ago

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Thanks to u now I want content-

Can I request, Yoosung, Saeran and Jumin with a S/O that sleeps a lot? Like through the day and sometimes afternoon?

<3 ily

Yoosung, Saeran and Jumin with a reader that sleeps a lot!

MUAHAHAHAH, welcome to the dark side!! But fr, I'm laughing so damn hard HAHAHAHA-

If I didn't have anything to do I would sleep all day pleaseeee, I can sleep anywhere if I try!! 😭✋✋

I love you more sksks thank you for requesting~!! Tell me I got this right, hahah!^^

-The first time Yoosung witnessed you being able to fall asleep so so easily was during a phone you had with him when you first joined the RFA. He felt his cheeks burn up as he head your tired yawn and you nearly passing out when you were talking to him.

-He thinks that it's cute and low-key amazing that you are able to fall asleep this easily and well, pretty much a lot during the day. He tends to remember himself sleeping through his classes and he chuckles softly.

-Your blonde haired boyfriend really likes admiring you when you sleep, he thinks you look so cute and your soft expression is enough to make him blush and smile. He really wants to stroke your hair or even cuddle you but he doesn't wanna wake you up.

-So he mostly tries to stay near you and do something else like play a game or do another activity as he stays there. He might even cook or make something for you so you can have it later. He feels glad that he can take care of you like this.

-If you want to stay awake, he can try bringing you into activities like playing and anything that will help you stay awake like coffee or anything else! He can be loud on purpose to make sure you are awake.

-Yoosung doesn't mind if you wanna sleep, he can join you if you want and it might even help him with his sleep schedule! He adores you so much and even loves to sleep next to you, holding you close as you two sleep through out the day.

-Saeran back at Mint Eye thought that maybe his game was too boring for you and he started getting worried if you liked him as well. Turns out, you just sleep a lot and he was glad. The first time he heard about this fact, he was surprised and his cheek turned pink.

-He thinks it's really cute and fascinating how you sleep so so much. Compared to him, he doesn't get much sleep sadly but it changed after he started living with you. He usually had nightmares when he slept but watching you sleep makes him feel relaxed.

-Oh, how he would love to cuddle and hold you as you sleep so cutely like that but he holds back hard. He doesn't wanna disturb your sleep as much as he wanted to give you affection. He loves watching your peaceful expression as you rest, it puts him at ease always.

-He likes leaving small gifts around you so when you wake up, you smile as you look at them. He also loves to be near you no matter where and he might even gently stroke your head and lean down to give you a kiss. He can't help it! He adores you so so much and it can be seen from his smile.

-He can help you stay awake if you want to. He can look up ideas to do with you and he will make sure you aren't tired! If he sees you feeling sleepy, he'll give you a sweet kiss to wake you and and then giggle at how cute you look with your surprised face.

-Seeing you sleep so much actually encourages him to feel sleepy and want to rest more as well, helping his sleep schedule. And if he does sleep, he makes sure to be next to you, either holding you or sitting next to you as he dozes off. He loves you so so much and anything you do makes him love you even more.

-The first time Jumin saw you sleeping so much was when you first went into his apartment. He knew you weren't the most active but he never thought you would be sleeping so much, really. He wondered the reason behind it but wasn't sure what it was, he had some theories though.

-But your soft expression makes him feel relaxed and he loves spending time watching how your face moves when you sleep. Do you sleep quietly, do you snore in your sleep? He wishes to know the answer to these questions and he loves being this close to you, it makes him feel happy.

-Watching you sleep makes him wonder how much and for how long do you do this? He snaps out of his thoughts as a small snore could be heard from you and he feels a smile coming towards his face, you are so nice to watch and moments like these make him feel nice and warm inside.

-He usually ends up reading a book as he sits next to you. He even likes to watch as Elizabeth the 3rd sleeps close at your legs or kinda near you, making him smile. He might even try to prepare something for you to see when you wake up from your sleep, it's usually expensive gifts but this man loves you so much, what can he do?

-If you want to stay awake, he has a lot of methods he uses for when he needs to work so late or do something. One of his favorite things to recommend is you playing with his cat or doing a fun activity with him. He finds this fun and nice to help you out through this.

-Jumin watching you sleep so much makes him wonder how you doze off so easily and why it makes him wanna do the same. He feels like he has to protect his precious lover and doesn't mind you sleeping so much, he might as well join you and hold you close to him, his love for you is so big, after all.

#mystic messenger x reader #yoosung kim #saeran choi #jumin han #yoosung x reader #saeran x reader #jumin x reader #yoosung kim x reader #saeran choi x reader #jumin han x reader #fluff #headcanons #mystic messenger #gender neutral #fic

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i4sgwr · 2 years ago

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ship ur moots!!

first of all, they’re all married to ME but i suppose i can give them a second option 🙄 /t

i’ve only listed the moots that came to mind immediately/whoever i interact with a lot. i’m sorry if i didn’t add you !! also i’m shipping them w chara’s from our mutual fandoms bc that’s easier on my brain 💀

@requiem626k — Kunikida of course, that’s easy. when i think of the two of you together i immediately imagine a scenario where you’re rambling to him about music & he’s sitting there so in awe, listening intently with a soft smile on his face as he thinks to himself “wow i’m so lucky.” anyway- otp — you guys are adorable <33

@taintedsorrcw — okay so.. idk if this seems outta left field but i wanna say Yuta 🫣 see no bc he’d be more reserved than you (imo) & i think you’d be able to bring out the more chaotic side in him, which is cute. also you’d fluster the hell out of him but it’s not like he’d complain 🙈

@discordkittenjoestar — Jotaro !!! just based off personal hcs, i think you’d be more likely to make him blush than the other way around, and that’s just bc he’s too smitten & gets embarrassed when someone he loves compliments him ❤️‍🩹

@snake-titan — and what if i said Jean 🤨 idk, i think you guys would be hot together, even though idk what you look like, bc those are vibes i’m getting. he’d be soooo smitten, too, c’mon. you make him laugh once & starts planning your wedding — love at first sight moment 🥰

@ofallthingswhythis — does it make sense for me to say Mista ??? i realize i could’ve picked someone else, but i just think the two of you together would be complete chaos in the best way. also you’d throw amazing house parties

@arlertwitch — Armin, obviously, who else ? i could’ve chose literally anyone except Armin just to spite you but i’m not mean 😭 the blonde boy is all yours, my dear, and he wouldn’t have it any other way <33

@stupidlittleangel — ATSUSHI !!! you deserve someone as kind hearted & considerate as him. and he loves you very much, he told me himself 😌

@xttxck — CONNIE! LISTEN! i’m just getting a vibe, firstly. but secondly, the energy between you two ?? it’s giving friends to lovers with a happy ending- i have no further explanation

@poe-daydreams — imagine if i didn’t say Sukuna despite him being your entire brand LMAO. no but fr, you’d be so soft for each other, it makes me wanna rip my hair out. you’d have him so love-struck please 😫❤️‍🩹

@bunnyyamor — i reallyyy wanna give you Sugawara and i have no idea why 😅 i just think you’d be really cute together !! and he’d be grateful to have you bc you’re such a delightful person

@soaringmirror — i was conflicted for a moment but i’ve decided on Chuuya 🤭 lotta lighthearted teasing & endearing touches between you two that one (me) might be jealous of. i can see you both being very cliché romance-y but i find that very very cute

@trueformsukuna — will you get mad at me if i don’t pair you with Sukuna :( ?? (/t). there’s no one else i’d give you babe, dw. (shh i know Poe got him too but that’s okay bc i also have him). you’re literally living together with a cat & everything — you’re adorable & you love each other so much that a stranger could tell just by looking at you which Sukuna would have something to say about that but that’s not important.

@kagejima — Ushiwaka 😎 Ushijima is whipped, that’s all i gotta say. you fluster him like no one else, which should come as a surprise knowing how deadpan he typically is. but !!! he adores you & you adore him & i would like an invite to the wedding :)

#lemme just reiterate:#moots are /mine/ first bc i don’t like sharing 🥰#[💬] convos #[❣️] moots :: req #[❣️] moots :: milo #[❣️] moots :: kendall #[❣️] moots :: nia #[❣️] moots:: jules #[❣️] moots :: kels #[❣️] moots :: haru #[❣️] moots :: rory #[❣️] moots :: poe #[❣️] moots :: sami #[❣️] moots :: angel #[❣️] moots :: medea #[❣️] moots :: rae

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hannah-the-red-head · 4 years ago

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A Third Submission to the Imagines Society”

(League of villains meets an Autistic child with a quirk that is the definition of too good for this world and then some)

You were a tiny thing when Twice, Toga and Magne stumbled across you at the park, staring intently at what looked like your shoes with your back turned.

Magne summarized that you were most likely around 5 or 6 years old based on the kindergarten uniform you wore, the adorable hat hanging on your back while your (h/l), (h/s) (h/c) was out and about. Usually, the tree would lose interest after a while and go about their merry way.

But there was something about you that made them stay, Toga’s curiosity getting the best of her as she skipped over to where you were on your knees, she then peeked over a shoulder to see you staring in awe at butterfly that was softly moving it’s wings while resting on the petals of a blossom planted in the nearby garden.

It was one that she had never seen before, well at least in real life, but the sandy blonde remembered that she had once seen it on the internet somewhere.

It was a monarch butterfly, and last she or anyone else knew, the species were hanging by a thread and close to extinction over the last 56 years. She had admit that the pictures were close to nothing compared to the real thing as Toga watched with starry eyes at how the orange colors splashed with black and white glowed in the sunlight.

Magne herself, followed by Twice then decided to follow toga’s lead when she began to giggle like an actual schoolgirl instead of the blood obsessed vampire they knew and loved. The two peeking at the sight of both you and Toga being the surprising perches of a collection of what looked to be more Monarch butterflies that seemingly appeared out of no where.

And one of them was perched right on the tip of Toga’s nose.

Meanwhile, you had taken notice that you had a butterfly watching buddy the second you felt her crouched down next to you, your glowing (e/c) eyes staring at her with curiosity before deciding that she was interesting enough for you to deem her harmless, despite not knowing the truth.

Because in your young and innocent head, anyone that appreciated butterflies as much as you did was a good person and/or possible friend in your book.

She looked at you when she felt your eyes on her and gave you a big smile, which from what you learned meant that she was happy. So that meant that she likes you too. You smiled widely back and a series of bright rainbow colored balls of light lifted themselves off your little form, your quirk creating more butterflies from them while your new friend’s eyes sparkled.

Your quirk was called Wonder, the specialist who gave it that name having been inspired by the same emotion felt after witnessing you use your quirk at first hand to bring a rat back to life after it had been killed by a mousetrap, and later on when they returned back to the room to see that it had been filled with butterflies flying beautifully above them.

Nowadays, you mainly used your quirk to create butterflies.

Why?

Because butterflies made you happy, they made you calm, they took your worries away... and watching them was akin to what your therapist at the orphanage called stimming, your hand movements if you easily became overwhelmed resembling a butterfly flapping it’s delicate wings.

You were also fond of anything that felt like the texture closest to what you thought butterfly wings looked. However, this obsession was also the reason why your were ostracized by the other children, ignored completely by them at the worst despite how hard the workers at the orphanage tried to explain what your condition was.

You didn’t understand why the workers had the need to get the other kids to like you, if you wanted friends, you’d get some yourself on your own.

And you never understood why you had to take speech therapy, wasn’t writing in your notebook enough? You hated loud noises, they scared away things, things that are... nice.

Things like butterflies and rats and rabbits and deer, which meant that you couldn’t appreciate them anymore if they left.

So, why was there a need to make noise or let alone talk? You could never control how loud your voice was anyways. You didn’t care about how sometimes you overheard the caretakers at the orphanage whispered things about how alien you acted.

Which led to where you were now, little you having completely forgotten that you were separated from the other children heading back towards the orphanage after school had finished when you eyes spotted a flower that looked familiar until your quirk manifested the butterfly.

They sounded as if you were broken as a human.

When in reality you weren’t, you weren’t broken and needed to be fixed. At first it made you believe those words, but the moments where your eyes caught onto anything relating to those paper thin wings that radiated with the colors of the rainbow, you’re mind went to an alternate world where those who spoke about your strangeness were nonexistent.

It was then that you remembered seeing the same flower from the picture book at your school, the pink and green flora being the type of chosen roost for the orange, white and black insect to rest on if they got tired.

You never knew how much time passed when you felt your new friend’s presence near you until you turned around silently to see a schoolgirl older than your smiling peacefully at your creation, who then smiled at you.

Smiles meant something good, right?

Your quirk activated instinctually, your subconscious telling you to make your friend happy again by creating more things that made her happy, like how butterflies made you happy. You watched as the manifested insects flew over to the girl and rested on her shoulders, two nestled on the wild hair of her twin buns and one on her nose, the sensation of it’s delicate wings tickling her skin bringing a giggle out of her.

You copied her, giggling as well as you knew that laughing is what friends did. The exchange between you two led to a pair of others appearing behind your friend, the both of them watching in awe at how gentle you were.

Meanwhile in their perspective, Twice and big sis Magne were in awe.

This was a side of Toga that the pair had never seen before, so their interest in you grew steadily as they approached you both, seeing that the number of butterflies had grown the closer the became, the same orbs of light appearing to change into other species before the skies above the park had clouds of multicolored wings flying above like a piece of artwork created by nature.

It felt like a blessing to witness a sight like this, a much desired peace accomplished after so many months of being on the run from heroes and the police.

Twice jumped up and began to comically twirl about among the flocks of winged bugs, his splitting personalities having been silenced by the Nirvana he felt surrounding him, only stopping when he heard a few giggles left your mouth while you tried to keep up with him and Toga’s free styling dances without a care in the world.

The four of you not caring that you were getting strange looks and even scowls from those who crossed your paths in order to get a better look at the butterflies conjured by your beautiful quirk.

By the time the sun had set, you and your new friends had collapsed onto the grass, laughing in between breaths from all the fun you shared in those hours of innocent fun.

And you were the one to give that sense of childhood purity of fun back to them without realizing it. In your mind, you were happy that you had finally made friends by yourself as with a kick of your short legs you sat up and turned to the one closest to you, a tall woman with sunglasses and short hair the other two called “Big Sis Mag”.

You poked her cheek and she turned her face towards yours. Taking a deep breath, you decided to try something new that you hadn’t done or were comfortable with.

You: (Yy...yourrr n....nnamme!).... (Your Name)!

It was hard at first, being silent for most of your childhood being the reason as to why you sounded like a newborn attempting to say their first word. But the pride you felt as you pointed to yourself when you said your name clearly on the second try was amazing.

“Big Sis’” eyebrows shot up in surprise, and you understood why she was shocked as the only noises you made were giggles and squeals.

You: (Your name)!.... B-big sissy... Mmmmmag! Fr...friends! T-t-too...Toga! Fri..ends! Twi...Twice! Friends!

All three had unknown expressions present while you gave them a wide toothy grin that you had never given anyone except for your mama.

Twice: I think I’m gonna cry.... No, I’m not! Grow a pair!

Twice cartoonishly wept through his mask, tears that would only exist within an Animé pouring from the eyes of his black and grey mask before stopping almost immediately, his face changing to that of a stoic man drawn in comic books.

Toga just smiled at Twice, before a weak tug on her cardigan pulled her attentions to you, your arms held out wide and with an excited glow to you. You always remembered the warmth your mother’s hugs were growing up, how safe and loved you felt when your adorable self tackled her leg in a weak koala hug before she pulled you into her own arms.

Toga: Oh does (y/n)-chan want a hug?

You nodded and tackled the blonde, arms wrapped around her neck with you cheek pressed against hers, something your mother called “cuddle bumps” as you hated it when someone kissed you.

You: C-cu-cuddle bu-bumps!

Twice: I want cuddle bumps! No, I don’t that’s weird!

You nuzzled your cheek against hers, the teenage girl internally squealing and hugging you back as she was overcome with a sense of some maternal need to protect you and the light your little self emanated, both figuratively and literally as your quirk caused you to glow a warm pink color.

Toga playfully stuck out her tongue towards him, when an idea came to her.

—————

Shigaraki: And the most logical thing that you could ever think of in that moment.... was to bring this brat home?!

Toga’s cheeks puffed up as she hugged your little form from behind while you fiddled with your quirk, a manifested butterfly perched in the palm of your hand. You loved the feeling of your big sister’s soft cardigan as she hugged you.

Toga: Of course, Shiggy! I mean they’re an orphan left behind by those “caretakers”, we even waited to see if anyone would come looking.

Twice: Yeah, it was so nerve wracking! I was bored beyond belief....

Shigaraki let out an aggravated sigh, knowing that you had wormed your way into the hearts of the most in the league, Dabi being the first to cave when you used your quirk to soothe the pain in his burnt skin. He didn’t know why, but the fire quirk user’s eyes softened when you gazed up at his skin and your smile faded, a look of genuine worry that he possibly never experienced in some time as your tiny hand went up to hold his hand with the both of yours.

The rest of the already shocked league watching as an aura glowed from your small form, the glow then moving up your arms and finally covering Dabi in the glow before then pulling away into orbs that popped like soap bubbles filled with fireflies.

Dabi reacted in a way that not even he could describe as all the unbearable burning pain his scars brought him disappeared, a strange surge of.... calm washed over him.

It was the kind of calm that one would feel when a powerful storm dissipates, allowing the warm sun to bathe the earth once again.

And it was the type of calm that brought a heavy exhale out of Dabi, almost as if he had finally learned to breathe, tears falling down his cheeks and startling him, a hand shooting up to touch his wet face and pulling it away to see what was falling from his eyes.

This... made the tears fall harder.

Dabi had long forgotten what it felt like to cry actual salt water tears instead of blood. A relieved upwards tilt pulled at his lips as he fell to his knees before you, no words exchanged, just glances and a gentle grip of your joined hands.

You: No pain?

Your concern overweighed your struggling speech, your free hand raising up to hover next to his cheek. He chuckled softly, allowing you to place your hands onto his face.

Dabi: No pain. All better.

Your quirk was befitting for such a gentle, caring and kind being as you.

To put it simply, you could restore a person’s injuries, negative outlook on life due to traumatic experiences, and even their lost sense of morality via through your touch, being in your presence, or even by witnessing your creations first hand.

This was your power, a quirk that purified the evil living within this cruel world.

You could literally restore a person or persons lost sense of morality, your quirk changing a sociopathic killer into a saint seeking redemption just by spending an hour with you.

Your quirk also allowed you to heal any kind of wound or cure any illness, it could even replace missing limbs and the like as long as you kept your focus.

And it was meant to be protected.

Which is why you were taken into the protection of the league of villains, the only group of people who were the first to actually care for you after your mama’s passing, and didn’t speak badly of you or your condition.

Because they didn’t mind that you were autistic, they didn’t see you as broken or wrong. How did you know that they didn’t ostracize you?

They told you.

Twice: You, broken? Ha, that’s fresh! At least you don’t have more than one voice in your head...

Toga: My quirk needs me to drink the blood of the person i’m going to transform into in order for it to work, and because of that, I was pushed away by everyone for how creepy it made me look.

Magne: Anyone would be proud to call you their kid with a drop of a hat. So what if your special needs, it doesn’t make you any less human, sweetie.

Dabi didn’t say anything when you asked, in your broken speech, if you were broken. Instead, he just ruffled your hair and let you wear his jacket all day.

Compress: This world is filled with imperfections, but who is to say that imperfections are ugly and unwanted. To me, imperfections are where true beauty lies as it shows that despite their flaws, they try again and again to make themselves better.

Spinner: Kid, I am a walking talking lizard with pink hair and a desire to follow Stain’s path to create a society where only those who embody the traits of true heroes like All Might are allowed to become heroes.

You didn’t know how to react as he continued.

Spinner: If anything, you are the most normal out of all of us, so don’t go hating on yourself because you’re brain is wired differently. You’re perfect just the way you are.

Magne: Aww, that’s so sweet of you to say, Spinner!

Spinner: BIG SIS MAGNE?!?! HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN THERE?!

Toga: Enough to know that you give the best pep talks!~

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jinkicake · 4 years ago

Text

Yay, Stickers!

Akaashi, Bokuto, Nishinoya, Oikawa, Sugawara with a s/o who loves to make stickers!

Akaashi Keiji x Reader

Bokuto Koutarou x Reader

Nishinoya Yuu x Reader

Oikawa Tooru x Reader

Sugawara Koushi x Reader

For anon~ I think it is so cute that you make stickers, I love them so much! I always use them to decorate letters that I send to my friends! I had so much fun writing this, I like writing little scenarios/drabbles like these.

WC- 2,135

~~~

Akaashi Keiji

Akaashi is a quiet admirer but he always makes sure to compliment every single sticker you make

“This one is very cool.” “I like how this one turned out.”

He would be so polite when asking for a sticker, mainly because he doesn’t want to bother you and make you go out of your way to make an extra one just for him

Akaashi, don’t you know we would move mountains for you?

He would put his favorite stickers on his notebooks, just so he has something to smile at whenever he is in class

If he gets bored he just traces over the design with his finger and thinks about you </333

Whenever you bring him stickers in the morning, after you made them the night before, he would turn soooo red

He would blush so hard and thank you over and over again

Akaashi would be the type to make a scrapbook and he uses his favorite stickers with some of his favorite pictures he has of you

His favorite sticker you made is the little owl because it looks like him, it just makes him smile

“Keiji!” You call out to your boyfriend who is waiting in front of the school. You greet him with a smile and pull him into a hug which Akaashi happily returns.

“Good morning (Y/N).” He strokes your hair and you lean into his touch, bathing in the warm spring air.

“Oh, Keiji, here! I made these for you last night!” You break away to reach into your bag, going through each of the little sticker baggies that you had made the day before. “I was making some stickers for my friends and decided to make you some too!”

Akaashi watches as you pull out the light blue bag and open it, showing it to him so he can look at all the ones you made.

“These are really cool (Y/N),” Akaashi praises and he hopes you didn’t just hear his voice falter, he genuinely is taken aback by your kindness. “I really like them.” Your face heats up at the fond smile on Akaashi’s face, the admiration makes you feel bashful.

“Thanks, Keiji! I enjoy making them for you!” Akaashi gently closes up the material and puts it into his bag, double-checking to make sure that it wasn’t getting crush or bent. He scoops up your hand in his and leads you into the school while you mindlessly chatter about random things that you saw on that morning.

Bokuto Koutarou

Bokuto collects your stickers like little Pokémon cards

He has an individual carrier just for the stickers, each has their own individual slot

He treats them like photocards and will show them off to Akaashi whenever he comes over

“And this one is a bumblebee, (Y/N) made it for me a few days ago!”

“That is very cool Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto would love to just sit there and make stickers with you

He will lay on your bedroom floor as you work the little machine and tell you random things like what the clouds outside look like

Warning. If you don’t give him enough attention he will turn into Emo!Bokuto

The ace refuses to compete with a machine for your affection!

If he ever loses or misplaces one of your stickers he will feel so guilty and write you a cute little apology letter and stick it in your locker,,,,

Bokuto lets out another loud and dramatic sigh. He lays on your carpet while you sit on the opposite side of him, working at your low table to finish up a few stickers you promised for your friends. Bokuto stares at your ceiling and sighs again, peeking at you from the corner of his eye to see if you look at him.

You don’t.

Bokuto decides to move his operations to plan b. He drags himself to where you are and throws his head into your lap while he paws at your arms.

“Koutarou?” You glance at him before going back to the machine. Bokuto grabs your wrist and forces it to the top of his head, putting your hand in his hair. “You want something?” You tease and your boyfriend whines at your unmoving fingers.

“Pay attention to me.” Bokuto demands, his voice higher than normal.

“Huh?” You hum and begin to move your fingers through his hair, carding the strands and gently tugging on any knots. “Bokuto I’m trying to focus on this, you can wait.” You hush him by pressing your lips to his gently. Though, Bokuto doesn’t get that it was supposed to be an onetime thing. Instead, he sits up and grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him before he swoops in to capture your lips. He pushes at your shoulders and lays you down on the floor, crawling over you and not once removing his lips from yours.

Let’s just say, the sticker machine was forgotten for a few hours.

Nishinoya Yuu

This mf,,,, he would brag so much about your stickers and just rub it in Tanaka’s face

He would be a show-off but in a very proud way

He would deck out his gym bag in your stickers, literally anywhere he can put stickers he will

Just to be a little show-off

“Oh, where did I get this?” He’d gasp every time someone asked him about the stickers and then Daichi sighs in the background like “Here we go again,”

“My precious (Y/N), made them for me! You want to see some other ones they make?”

Hinata, Tsukishima, Asahi, Tanaka, Kiyoko would be the only ones who entertain him when he describes each of the stickers

Though Tsukishima only feigns his interest to be an ass, he secretly likes how passionate his senpai gets

Nishinoya would have stickers all messily around his room, it’s just a little reminder of you wherever he goes

Every time you give him a sticker, you get thanked with a sweet kiss </33

“See this one is a lightning bolt.” Nishinoya points to the sticker on the strap of his bag and the blonde first-year lets out an interested ‘ah’. The two of them are currently in the gym before practice, it is just Tsukishima’s luck that he caught his senpai right as you left.

“Wow, senpai that’s really cool.” Tsukishima snickers and Nishinoya turns to him with bright wide eyes.

“You think so?! Here, you can have one!” The libero reaches into his bag and thumbs through his notebooks, looking for an extra sticker he knows he has. Tsukishima simply lets it happen, waiting patiently with his hand out. “Ah-ha!”

The shorter boy places the sticker in his friend’s hand with a proud look on his face.

“I was there with (Y/N) when they made it.” He gloats and Tsukishima squints his eyes to look at the sticker. Damn, it really does look nice. The blonde thinks. “And this one is the number four like from my jersey. You want your own number Tsukishima?”

Tsukishima shakes his head but Nishinoya waves him off, already moving his finger to point at the next sticker.

“Which one is your favorite?” Tsukishima finds himself asking and Nishinoya pauses for a moment, letting his eyes run all over the strap of his bag.

“Hmmm, I like them all but I think this one is my favorite!” He points to a heart, one with both of your initials on it, and Tsukishima has to hold back a gag at the sweetness of it. “I love when (Y/N) makes these.”

Tsukishima will never admit it to anyone else, but he found himself slightly jealous of his senpai at that moment.

Oikawa Tooru

Oikawa would collect all the stickers you make

I feel like whatever sticker you make, even if it isn’t for him, he wants his own individual copy

“Oikawa this is a picture of Hisoka you really want it?”

He would give you such attitude like “Of course I want it!” And he would hide his little treasure

Oikawa would brag to the other third years and show off the stickers he has, sometimes he places them in his notebooks so that when Iwaizumi borrows it the ace knows that he doesn’t have someone who makes him stickers

If, for some reason, you make Makki or Mattsun a sticker…. Oikawa will act so betrayed

“Mattsun,,, where did you get that sticker?”

“Oh (Y/N) gave it to me because-“

Oikawa doesn’t even listen he just leaves and runs to wherever you are to complain, like come awn reader, those are his stickers!

He secretly collects every single one you give him and has a little shoebox under his bed where he stores all of them

Oikawa and Mattsun continue their gossip session all throughout lunch as they claimed to be ‘studying’. Not much work has been done though, since there isn’t even a textbook in sight.

“What was I supposed to do? Watch?” Matsukawa rolled his eyes and pulled out one of his notebooks from his desk.

“You saw the fight of the school year and you didn’t record it?” Oikawa fumbles with his pencil and his taller friend scrolls through his phone to find a a small clip from the fight.

“I can tell you what happened if you want, but it was pretty lame honestly.” Matsukawa says and Oikawa hums before glancing at his friends notebook, he notices a very familiar sticker on the cover of it. Not subtly at all, Oikawa yanks the notebook off his friend's desk and stares at the puppy sticker in the corner of the page.

“Mattsun what is this?” He questions and Matsukawa glances up before going back to his phone.

“Oh (Y/N) gave me that because they said it looks like me,” Matsukawa responds and Oikawa gasps in shock.

“My love gave you a sticker?!” He drops the notebook as if it burned him and Matsukawa furrows his eyebrows at him.

“Says the boy who has given me a hickey before.” He snorts and Oikawa turns bright red.

“That was ONE time and it was to make Makki jealous.” Oikawa defends and Matsuku mutters out an unbelievable ‘sure’. “(Y/N) only gives me stickers,” Oikawa mutters and pulls out his phone to send you a handful of needy messages about his betrayed heart.

Sugawara Koushi

Sugawara would sit there with you while you make stickers

Like you two could spend all day in your room printing them out and getting excited at how cute each individual one is

Sugawara would probably talk about random things and you two would chat freely all while the little machine is humming in the background

Sugawara loves your little hobby, he thinks it is so cute and is really interested in all the stickers you make

He would beg you to make him his own stickers

Like he wants a little volleyball to put on his water bottle or the letter of your first name to put on one of his notebooks

Yes, Sugawara would so brag when someone asks him where he got his stickers

He would gatekeep your stickers LMFAO like it is his and his only!

Sugawara would not waste a single sticker you make, he will always find somewhere to put them

He loves and cherishes everything you do, so of course, he is obsessed with anything you make for him!

“And then Kageyama and Hinata got into a fight!” Sugawara tells you, gasping for effect, he holds his tea bottle close to his chest as you two sit inside your bedroom. The afternoon sun peaks in past your curtains and your jaw drops as you glance at your boyfriend with wide eyes.

“An actual fight?” You wonder and turn your attention fully onto your boyfriend.

“Yes! Hinata full on tackled Kageyama,” He starts and explains what exactly happened in full detail. You cover your mouth in shock while trying to simultaneously work on the stickers in front of you. Sometimes you forget how much dirt your boyfriend has on everyone. It is always the sweet, quiet ones who pick up on all the drama. “And that’s when Tanaka found them and stopped the fight.”

“I can’t believe it, what is in the first year's water?” You scold and Sugawara laughs at your words before picking up one of the stickers in-between his fingers.

“It’s kinda like the thing that happened between Noya and Asahi a few months ago.” He refers back to the heavily mentioned broken broom incident and you agree with the similarities. Sugawara sneakily takes the sticker and sticks it into his notebook, thinking you hadn’t noticed but, you saw the entire thing.

You always enjoy spending time with your boyfriend, especially when it’s quiet and calm just like this.

Taglist.

@yams046 @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy

#akaashi keiji x reader #bokuto kotarou x reader #nishinoya yu x reader #oikawa toru x reader #sugawara koshi x reader #akaashi x reader #bokuto x reader #nishinoya x reader #oikawa x reader #sugawara x reader #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you

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inanotheruniversemusings · 4 years ago

Text

got your green eyes in the back of my mind (it’s true)

fill for Supercorptober2020 prompt: baking

read on ao3

“Hi, what can I get you today?”

Lena starts a little. She’s gotten used to the cheery voice, having frequented the coffee shop for quite some time now—it’s her favorite, really; not that anyone’s asked aside from her best friend, Sam—has known its owner even longer, being that they’ve shared half of the same classes the last two semesters.

This, though, is a tad bit new. This being the name tag pinned over the shirt pocket of the cashier’s chest. It usually says Hello, I’m Kara, but now it has the I’m blotted out by black marker ink so that the Hello is perfectly—correctly—followed by prettiest girl I’ve seen today.

(How she managed to fit all those words within the tiny space and in such a neat scribble, Lena has no idea.)

“Uhm,” Lena tries to say; wants to tell the equally beautiful blonde girl who smiles like the sun that she wants her usual. But Lena just can’t stop wondering, and she just has to ask. So she does. “Did you forget the, umh,” she tries a second time, yet she ends up merely pointing at the name tag instead.

“Oh,” Kara mumbles. A well-timed dip of her head hides the sudden flush that blooms on her cheeks. Though there’s really nothing she can do about the redness that crawls down to her neck but fiddle with her glasses. “It’s—there was a dare. There may have been a dare involved.”

Lena nods, her brows arching in barely-contained amusement. “I see.”

Kara flushes even more that she starts swallowing quite visibly, and in a fast, admittedly slightly worrying phase. “Anyway,” she attempts to press on, waving her hands in an added gesture. But she’s still stiff and so flustered that she ends up looking like she’s slicing at the air.

Lena laughs, more to herself—and the adorable state she’s seemed to have left Kara in—than anything; decides to save the other woman from further embarrassment by speaking. “Can I get my usual?”

“It would be my pleasure,” Kara answers. Her voice is unnaturally high, not that Lena knows the sound of it or anything, even as she tries to squeeze in one of her quips. “Or, well, I guess Nia’s, since she’s our barista.”

“Yep, that’s me,” the woman in question chimes in from somewhere behind Kara. She even brings a hand to where her very own name tag is pinned on her apron as she starts to approach the counter to stand beside the other woman; places it palm-up right beneath the scrawl that reads Nia in all caps.

Kara, in turn, just lets out an exasperated sigh and closes her eyes, tight enough that Lena can hazard two guesses on what she’s thinking: she’s wishing for Nia to disappear, or for the ground to open up and swallow her whole.

She twists a little to meet Nia, despite also having known her three days after her first ever visit to the cafe, smiles at her teasingly. “Enchanté?”

“Oooh,” Nia hums, eyes sparkling with amusement and looking impressed as she turns to whisper to Kara. Or at least she thinks she does. “Your lady doth speaketh French. Taste, muy bien.”

“That’s not even Fr—I—” Kara fumbles for words, but ends up just pushing Nia out of Lena’s view when she fails to come up with something else and before Nia can wreak further havoc, especially on Kara’s already dwindling spirits.

Lena watches her walk away, the sound of her cackle filling in the air until Kara speaks again. “Sorry about that.” She pushes her glasses back up, shaking the last ten minutes away with a more steady smile this time. “I—your usual right? That’d be two dollars and fifty cents.”

Lena hands Kara a ten matched with one of her charmed smiles. The rest of its change goes to the shop’s tip jar like it always does, and the effects of the same smile colors the tips of Kara’s ears, charming Lena right back.

(There’s a reason why Lena has always been Nia’s favorite customer. A ton, really, though Kara will always have more.)

“Thank you!” Kara tells her—more like squeaks, really. Lena doesn’t stand a chance of not being endeared. “I’ll be right by your table to bring your Au Lait once it’s ready. Same spot?”

“Of course. You know where to find me.”

Kara beams at her then, wide and bright, as if the remnants of her earlier nervousness she has completely shaken away.

And it’s like a shock to her system that Lena only ever gets from coffee, as warm as the first sip she takes after she’s let it cool a little, with a sprinkle of sugar and something else incredibly nice that Lena doesn’t quite have a name yet.

…

Seven minutes and fifteen pounding lub dubs later—when she catches Kara’s eyes just as she’s handing the change to another customer, and Kara sends her another one of her smiles that Lena’s honestly starting to think she’s more hooked into than coffee itself—her Au Lait arrives.

Nia’s drawn a gear over the foam, which Lena incredibly appreciates and kind of also hates because of how steady Nia’s hands must have been, and she may be a tad bit jealous of that.

“It was just half yesterday,” Lena says by way of greeting, though she’s unable to keep the awe from her tone.

Kara laughs softly, and then lifts the mug up the tray to set it in front of Lena. “Nia’s been practicing. I think she’s trying to find a better gig than this.”

I am not, floats from behind the counter, a feigned affronted sound that Nia easily follows with, “But if Lena wants her own personal barista, I am very much open to discussion.”

“And if I do,” Lena replies, equally teasing. “You’ll be my first call.”

“Hear that, K?” Nia yells towards Kara this time. “So if I were you I’d chop-chop.”

“Ignore her,” Kara says; even makes a show of doing so.

“Like, today, Miss Danvers.”

“I’m so sorry,” Kara mouths.

A part of Lena does feel sorry for her, for the helpless look that’s starting to take over her face. But a bigger part of Lena is admittedly enjoying such banter; feels like Kara is more at ease here than when she’s at university, and Lena loves that for reasons she’s still resisting to name.

(But it’s there, was at the back of her throat the week before, but then Kara’s asked her what she knew about quantum entanglement during their shared walk to Quantum Mechanics class and it slid further up and then out; now dangles at the tip of her tongue, so ready to be let loose.)

She’s saved from saying anything that she can classify as stupid by Kara clearing her throat. Kara’s smile is back, albeit it’s a little shaky. Though the tremble her hand makes, as it sets the slice of cake right next to where Lena’s coffee mug is, is much more noticeable.

But Lena chooses not to comment on it, much to Kara’s relief. She pulls her hand back, wiping them both on her apron more as a nervous habit than a conscious move.

“I don’t remember ordering cake,” Lena says, but it’s not unkind.

Kara nips at her bottom lip, then frees it before answering. “It’s on the house.”

“Oh.” Lena isn’t—definitely isn’t—mesmerized by that sight. “Well, thank you.”

“It’s—I’ve been working on my baking. Alex says I may have the knack for it. She’s my sister by the way. She—she owns this place. She and her girlfriend. You may have met them once, when Nia and I had to miss work for some symposium thing at school. Not—not that I’m saying you’re here every day. Or that that’s a bad thing. In fact it’s a good—I’m very glad. Just super glad. That you are. Here, I mean.”

Lena’s able to pick a ton of things from that. But she doesn’t really think she has the emotional capability to unpack most of it right now, not when Kara’s standing right in front of her, fiddling with the hem of her apron nervously as she tries—and fails—not to stare at Lena, and Lena feels a weakness in her knees that only Kara has ever made her feel. So she chooses on the closest—lightest part to focus on. “Baking, huh?”

“Yeah,” Kara nods. “It’s my first cake of the day.”

Lena playfully narrows her eyes. “So I’m your guinea pig?”

“What?” Kara panics—well, almost does, if not for the laugh Lena cushions her teasing comment with. “It’s—no! I tried it first.”

(Just in case she somehow has mistaken salt for sugar again. But of course she doesn’t tell Lena that.)

“I’m just kidding, Kara,” Lena appeases. She shifts her gaze towards the slice of sweet pastry, noting the minced pieces of carrots spread cleanly all over the two layers. Lena knows it’s a total coincidence, but no one really has to know that she’d like to think it’s more, that Kara has picked her favorite out of all the possible choices.

Like quantum entanglement, her mind echoes.

“I’m sure it’s delicious. It certainly looks like it.”

“I really hope so,” Kara answers, nipping at her bottom lip again. “Or I’d be really, really embarrassed.”

“You’d never have to be.”

Silence fills the space again. But Lena feels something stretch over between them, feels it stronger when Kara twists as if to return to her spot by the cashier and says, “Well, I’ll leave you to enjoy the rest of your day.”

It stretches further as Kara starts walking away, and then snaps taut when Kara gains one more step. It snaps Lena back into attention in turn, her mouth moving before her brain can even catch up to her. “Kara!”

Kara wheels around, tilting her head to look at Lena expectantly. “Yes?”

“Do you give baking lessons?” Lena then asks—and, okay, maybe her brain hasn’t really fully caught up yet.

“Sorry?”

“Do you—can you teach me how to bake?” Yes, definitely hasn’t caught up to her thought process yet. Her mouth and her brain really needs to cooperate. “It’s just, my brother’s birthday is coming up, and I was thinking I’ll make him his own cake instead of buying one.”

Maybe even put Happy Birthday, Baldie as the message, and, okay, maybe it isn’t too bad of an idea after all.

“I—” Kara begins to say, looking like she’s at a loss too. Lena can’t really blame her either. Yet, Kara agrees in the end, and Lena definitely doesn’t know how to deal with that. “Sure.”

In the heat of the moment—Lena will later on say, will refuse to call it anything but that—she grabs the book she’s set on the table, flipping to one of the blank pages at the very back. And then, she looks up at Kara, tipping her chin up to gesture towards the pen tucked inside one of the pockets of Kara’s apron. “Can I borrow your pen?”

Kara hands it wordlessly, and it’s only the slight crinkle in between her brows who speaks for her own confusion.

Lena will also later on say that there is a part of her that feels pained as she tears off half of the blank page. But for now, she does it without a single hint of remorse, and then scribbles out ten digits that may or may not set the next years of her life.

“Call me? And then we can talk about it.”

…

(Much, much later on, Lena will definitely say she’s never been more thankful for a slice of cake and a half-sized piece of paper.

It’s not in her vows, but she does tell Kara at some point, under a sea of stars, and amidst the sound of calm waves hitting the shore and her very own breathing finally coming down from a soaring height.)

…

“Figures. Your lady likes veggies in her pastries. That’s just so wrong.”

“Your favorite pie is literally pumpkin.”

“It’s an ancient recipe and has been proven to actually taste good. Carrot, though? It’s like, just because you can doesn’t mean you should.”

“Nia.”

“Yeah, yeah, it got you the girl anyway.”

#supercorp #supercorptober2020 #myfics

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maribatz-2k · 5 years ago

Text

A Blind Meeting

Chapter 2

Notes: I am using a French translator https://translate.yandex.com/?lang=fr-en&text=sir So if something isn’t right. I’m sorry!

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The next week was dreadful. Thanks to the Joker playing with a tank down near my home, business has been very slow. Only, one customer would visit, sometimes he would bring a young man with him, but normally he is alone.

It was now Monday, third week of February, and everyone was downstairs with me in the Parlor; helping me make my dress. Teeks barked twice, then walked toward the bakery.

“une seconde s'il vous plait” I said in rushed french, finishing up the seam I was in the middle of.

“pas pressé, veuillez prendre votre temps.” That’s surprising. His voice had a rough tone to it sounding familiar. I tapped my wrist watch checking to see the time.

“10:30 am” It spoke.

“Ooooh it’s him.” Trixx and Pollen teased. Ironically I thought the same thing. He was always here at the same time even with Joker making a mess of things. Satisfied with where I left off, I adjusted my hair and dusted off my dress. The room filled with small giggles as I walked out from the door under the stairs into the bakery.

“Good morning Monsieur. Would you like your usual?” I held a smile as I walked over to Teeks, scratching behind her head.

“Yes please. It’s been pretty quiet here lately.” He had a soft caring tone in his voice. Kind of different than his usual tired voice.

“Indeed, I guess no one knows I’m still open thanks to Joker.” I gave a distressed sigh as I filled up two cups of coffee and walked over to his table. Honestly, I’m glad I’m blind. If Trixx’s description is true, I’d be a clumsy mess and he’d have coffee all over his lap. I set our cups down and sat across from him. Teeks decided to stay by the counter but my silly blonde cat wanted to join us at the table.

“That is surely is concerning. If you don’t mind me asking, what were you doing under the stairs.” His question was expected but I just smiled. It was nice to have someone to talk to.

“It is, but it’s also okay. I was actually working on my gown for a charity event the Waynes are hosting.”

“Is that so. I’ll be going there myself. Will you have someone going with you?” He sipped his coffee. I held my cup taking in its warmth.

“I’ll be meeting with my uncle and friends there. I’m very excited. But no other than them, I don’t plan to take anyone with me.” I sipped my coffee giving a soft hum.

“I see.” He sounded disappointed? It was a little hard to pin point his exact feelings but it’s fun to learn. “What will your dress look like?”

“Mmm… . I won’t give you all the details, but its going to be a floor length gown and a little bit sparkling.” I smiled not wanting to give him all the details. He must have caught on and he too smiled as he talked.

“Aaah, a mystery. I’m intrigued. I can’t wait to see it.” I lifted my cup feeling my cheeks warm up from remark and tried to change my focus to something else.

“Will you be going with someone? I’m sure a dashing young man as yourself would be.” I smiled feeling the table under me move when he relaxed against it.

“I am, I’ll be taking my son Richard with me.”

“Oh, is he the young man you brought in a few times?” I asked.

“Yes, you remembered. I’m surprised.” He said bringing a smile on his lips.

“Of course I would. What about your wife, does she not like these kind of things?” I asked getting up and go back behind the counter pulling out two muffins.

“No wife. Just my son, our butler, and me. Never been married.” He stated. I won’t lie, it made me happy hearing that.

“I see.” Grabbed a couple napkins and walked back to our table handing him one. “Well I can’t wait to meet your son at the charity event.” My watch goes off letting me know it’s almost 12 o'clock letting out a defeated sigh.

“I guess I’ll get back to work.” He said picking up the muffin. “Thank you for your time. And this muffin.” He smiled picking up his suitcase and walked out of the bakery. I clicked my tongue signalling Noir to come over as I sat on the floor by Teeks.

“Geez, can’t he get anymore dreamy.” Trixx let out coming out from behind kitchen.

“Don’t be silly. Come on, let’s go finish the dress up and Jagged’s suit before he comes over to try it on.” I got up scratched Teeks hear again and walked back into parlor under the stairs.

The next days, our regular guest didn’t visit. Customers began to visit again after realizing I was open but none stayed long. One customer brought in a dog that barked at Teeks aggressively after that I had to put up a sign that said “Service Animals Inside Only.” Eventually after another week went by, I installed a porch cover and put outside chairs and tables for anyone who wanted to bring their fur babies with them. Water and food dishes were left outside, brought in and cleaned every night, and put outside filled through out the day.

Jagged showed up with Penny, trying on their outfits and was excited. Everything fit perfect in every direction and it helped hide Penny’s baby bump. She was only five months but she was worried she’d be showing too much.

“Perfect. Everything is rock n'roll Marinette.” Jagged said bringing back the hung suit.

“He’s right. They are perfect. Do you have any plans for your birthday after tomorrow?” Penny asked rubbing her stomach. They plan to name the baby Penelope Marinette if a girl, and for a boy Marin Oliver. I’m the honorary Godmother of their baby so to me, it’s even more of an honor to have then carry my name. Hehe.

“I’m not sure, Chloe, Kagami, and Adrian are going to be here tomorrow for the charity event too so maybe something with them.” I said, taking their clothes and put them in their suit bags to take to the hotel.

“Then let’s celebrate together the six of us. I’m sure it be a blast! I mean your already celebrating your birthday at the charity, so why not.” Jagged said.

“As much as that sounds like fun, I can’t leave my shop closed for the whole day.” I said.

“True.” Jagged sat down and thought for a minute letting Teeks. “Then how about we go out for.” If it was meant to be a question it didn’t come out that way. Before I could say any further, Noir was meowing upstairs demanding I let him out.

“I guess we better go. Love you Mari well see you tomorrow at the Wayne Manor. You sure you don’t want us to pick you up?” Penny asked hugging me good bye.

“Yes I’m sure. I’ll meet you guys there at 7. Get some rest tonight and no heels Aunt Penny. Flats or comfort shoes. I make sure your dress could hide em.” I gave her a wink then hugged Jagged.

“Your sure Fang is alright here with your mischief kitty?” He asked me just before letting go.

“Yes Uncle Jagged I’m positive they will let along great. I’ll even wash him before you pick him up.” With a satisfied nod, he leaves the bakery Penny in his arms. I lock the door waving bye once more then closes the curtains. “So tired. Well, let’s get upstairs and rescue the Noir.” I chuckled to myself as Teeks and I walked upstairs. The moment the door opened Noir shot past me and ran downstairs to hide. More likely above the fridge with Plagg. Fang laid on my couch snugged and asleep. I just shook my head and unlocked the cat door for Noir locking my house door, and went off to bed.

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@fsketchart @northernbluetongue @fertileleaf @jardimazul

#maribat #mlb x dc #Marinette x Bruce #A Blind Meeting #brucinette

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strangerthingsbaby · 5 years ago

Text

Busted (Jim Hopper x OC)

Summary: Emma didn’t like Chief Hopper. She was tired of him always busting her weekend after weekend, no matter how sneaky she thought she was being. She was tired of him singling her out, and even if he busted a huge party, he’d still only stick her in his police truck. Hopper was tired of dealing with a defiant girl weekend after weekend. He was tired of her idiotic mentality that she was indestructible. And he was really, really tired of always finding her in places that were crawling with grimy boys. (Emma is in the same grade as Billy and Steve, so I imagine her as being 19).

Warnings: smut! size kink, age gap, jealousy, rough sex, choking, oral sex (fr), CMNF

Word Count: 4.7k

“Cops!” Emma heard the first fateful scream of the party. It was destined to get busted, a party thrown at Steve Harrington’s, but she didn’t care. She wanted to have a good night. She barely cared about anything but having a good time at this point.

“Shit, shit, shit-” Emma ran towards the back door. She felt an arm grab her before she could exit, though. Whipping her body around, she let out a sigh of relief at the sight of Steve. “Jesus, Harrington! I thought you were-”

“Hopper? Yeah, he’s outside.” Steve cut her off. Emma wasn’t sure what her stance on Steve was. They weren’t close friends, but he knew of her troubles with the Chief. Practically everyone did. “I was hoping you could talk to him.”

“What? Me?” She asks. He nods. “Why the hell would that be a good idea?”

“Well, you know him better than anyone here, and if they tell my dad about this I’m screwed.” He shrugged.

“Yeah, and if he even finds out I’m here he’s going to tear this entire home apart until he finds me, so your safest bet is to let me leave.” She ranted, speaking bitterly about the man who she saw as an absolute killjoy.

As he was talking to her, two cops burst into the home. Emma immediately recognized Callahan as one of them and her eyes widened. “I need to go.” She told Steve before running out the back door.

She didn’t get very far before she slammed face first into something- or someone. She groaned in pain, stepping back. She didn’t need to look up to see who it was, her being eye-level with his torso was enough to recognize the beige colored uniform and brown jacket. She looked up at his eyes, saw him open his mouth to speak, then turned and made a run for it.

“Hey! Get back here!” His angry voice always came out when she resisted, he was hoping by this point she’d give up on always trying to evade him. Though she was quite fast, she was tiny. Standing just barely at 5'0, Hopper’s 6'3 form made it easy for him to catch up by taking huge steps as he chased her. It didn’t take long for him to get close enough to wrap a strong arm around her waist and quite literally lift her off of the ground and start walking back to his truck with her.

“God- stop carrying me, asshole!” She screamed, punching at the arm that held her in place. Her back was pressed against his side, like he was holding a baby backwards, and she thrashed against his body until he dropped her feet to the ground. A harsh grip on her arm replaced his previous method to contain her.

He didn’t say a word to her until he shoved her into the car. He didn’t cuff her, he’d only ever done that once, when she was drunk and belligerent and wouldn’t stop trying to open the back doors mid drive. Luckily, the car had child locks on for the back doors. Hopper climbed into the driver’s seat and let out a long sigh. “Do you think I enjoy having to leave home on a Saturday night to do this shit?” He asked.

“Yes, you fucking stalker!” She snapped, her anger boiling over. “What are you gonna do next? Hunt me down at home and arrest me for not doing the dishes even though my mom asked me to? Leave me the hell alone!”

“It’s not my fault that you are always being a dumbass kid!” Hopper screamed. Emma shrunk back in her seat at the volume and intensity of his voice. “You should be grateful that I’m the one who deals with your shit! Because I’m pretty sure if it were anyone else but me, you would’ve been locked up a long time ago!”

“What shit, Hopper?” Emma was seething at this point. “What shit are you putting up with? Following me everywhere I go and just waiting until I do something you don’t like? Stay home and enjoy your Saturday night instead of following me around!”

“So now it’s my fault that you’re always getting into some kind of trouble?” He asked rhetorically.

“Oh, like you were such an angel at my age.” She scoffed. He ignored her. Emma had found over time that the less arguing that happened inside of the car, the more uncomfortable it was for her. “You forgot.”

“Forgot what?” He asked, sounding like his patience was worn thin.

“Aren’t you going to ask me about boys?” She asked.

In the front of the car, Hopper’s eyebrows furrowed and his jaw set. He felt an overwhelming surge of anger fill his body as he listened to her words. “You aren’t going to ask me if I was with a boy, or who the boy was, or something?” She spoke again when he didn’t reply to her. “What? No longer interested in my love life, Chief?” His knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel as tightly as he could. “You know what I think? I think you get a kick out of the idea that you’re keeping boys away from me. I think you like the idea of completely destroying my love life the same way you’ve destroyed yours!”

“Fuck this.” Hopper said under his breath, turning abruptly at the next left. Emma yelped from the backseat as the turn sent her flying to the left, as she’d never put on a seatbelt. He was originally going to give her a lecture and drive her home, but she was in rare form tonight.

“Um, where are we going?” She asked as she sat up and saw that they were going in the opposite direction of her house.

“I am going to take you somewhere where I can talk to you.” Hopper said, his volume controlled. The intensity of his voice still freaked Emma out a bit.

It didn’t take long to realize where they were going, and before she knew it, she found herself at the police station. “Shit.” She muttered to herself.

“You’re a real dick for this.” Emma murmured as she pouted in the seat on the opposite side of Hopper’s desk.

“I’m a real dick for this?” Hopper repeated, chuckling dryly. He was pacing around the room intimidatingly, but she had seen it all before- too many times to count. “You think I wanted to come to the station after hours to give you your twentieth sit down tonight?”

“You had the option not to and chose to do it anyway, so, yeah.” Emma shrugged. Hopper just stared at her in disbelief for a moment.

“The behavior that you refuse to give up…” Hopper thought about his words carefully. You could tell by the tone he was using that he was pissed yet trying to conceal it. “… Is unacceptable.” He finishes.

“I think it’s unacceptable that I can’t walk my god damn dog without looking over my shoulder to see if your standing there in your uniform- because it seems like literally every time I leave the house you claim I’m breaking the law.” She crossed her arms.

“Every time you leave the house you’re either drinking underage, smoking pot, going to big parties, or doing things that you should not be doing on a playground-” Hopper began to yell at her, but she cut him off.

“Please don’t bring that up.” She said, frowning uncomfortably.

“Oh, does talking about the playground incident make you uncomfortable?” He snapped. “Because it made me real uncomfortable to have to leave home at midnight because I got a call from some random jogger complaining that a little blonde girl was giving some boy a hand job on the swings!”

“Shut up!” Emma screamed. She got up from her chair and walked as far away from Hopper as she could, holding her hands over her ears.

“What, am I embarrassing you, little girl?” He asked loudly, condescendingly, as he followed her. She stared at him with a look of hatred. “Because you should be embarrassed!” He screamed. “Get the hell over yourself and stop acting like a jackass!”

“Why don’t you get the hell over yourself and stop acting like you’re doing this for me? You’re clearly just following my every move because you have some weird obsession with making my life a living hell!” She spat before reaching her arms up and pushing Hopper by his shoulders. Of course, it was impossible for him to overpower the man who was two times her size, and this only frustrated her more. “God, just move!” She pushed him again, to no avail.

Hopper caught her smaller hands in his much larger ones, holding them back from pushing him again. “You know why it’s always me, kid? You want to know why I’m the only cop who’s on your trail? Because I’m the only one who’ll put up with your bullshit week after week!” He yells. “Every god damn week, you get in trouble, and every god damn week I just let you off. Because I think you have potential to grow up and not be a giant nuisance, and I’m trying to be nice by not ever putting anything on your record. And every god damn week, you fight me as hard as you possibly can.”

“Because you’re a buzzkill, that’s why!” She hissed, snatching her hands back from him. “You ruin every weekend for me- you’re just an asshole! That’s all! I fight you so hard because you’re a gigantic asshole, and-”

She was cut off by Hopper grabbing her face and forcing her to look at him. “I ruin every weekend for you because I’m trying to stop you from doing something you’ll regret.” He said sternly, and Emma’s chest rose and fell shallowly in the aftermath of her screaming.

“I’m not going to regret anything.” She said weakly. The room was silent, and the tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

It all happened so fast, it was hard to tell who initiated it, but the second that their lips touched there was no going back. Emma melted into the kiss immediately, shocking her. She’d never had a thing for older men before, and had definitely never had a thing for authority figures. But there was something about kissing Hopper that thrilled her. He was not only off-limits, but their complicated relationship made it even more taboo.

Hopper began to walk forward, forcing Emma to step backwards until she felt a smooth surface hit her back. Hopper hoisted her up onto the desk, never breaking their kiss. His brain had turned to mush, and the only thing going through his mind was how she tasted like strawberries and how soft her skin felt under his rough, calloused hands. He wanted to touch and kiss every inch of her body, and he started by slowly sliding the tips of his fingers under the hem of her shirt. Emma sat up straighter as his hands began to explore the skin of her back.

Despite what her behavior may have indicated, the weekends of partying and hooking up with boys, she’d only ever slept with two people. The first was her ex boyfriend, and the second was Billy. She went through a nasty breakup right before the end of her junior year, when her boyfriend graduated and left for college. Ever since then, she’d been enjoying all of the things she couldn’t do before, perhaps she’d taken it too far over the past year, but she didn’t care.

She wasn’t nervous to do this with Hopper, though. Emma tended to have this presence of self-confidence that rarely faltered. She rarely ever felt unworthy, unattractive, or unremarkable.

The kiss had grown hungrier, especially after Hopper traced his fingers up and down her back and realized she wasn’t wearing a bra. he slid his hands down her sides and gripped her hips harshly, pulling her closer to him until her butt was on the edge of the desk. He finally broke the kiss to take her shirt off, and he let the shirt drop from his hand slowly as he stared at her.

She blushed lightly, moving her hands up to his shirt to unbutton it. However, Hopper had no intentions of catching up to her, and moved her hands away as he leaned down and started kissing her neck. Emma was a bit disappointed that she didn’t get to strip the Chief, but she quickly forgot all about it as one of his large hands reached up to palm her breast, pinching her nipple as he sucked hard on her neck. She gasped at the feeling, and instinctively moved her hand down to palm him through his pants. He stopped her from doing that too, as he took his lips off of her neck and blew lightly on the dark mark he’d left.

“You aren’t going to let me touch you?” Emma asked, sounding distracted as his hand that wasn’t feeling her up dropped down to her upper thigh. He trailed his neck kisses lower, peppering them along her collar bones and down to her chest.

“No.” He said bluntly before he pinched one nipple and took the other one in his mouth. Emma didn’t have much time to pout before her jaw dropped again. She didn’t like to be too loud during sex, it was a pride thing, but she could hardly help herself tonight from gasping and letting out little noises at everything he did.

His hand that was massaging her upper thigh and ever so slightly brushing against her core was driving her crazy. She couldn’t stop her body from twitching when he got close enough to it, making her cheeks flush as he chuckled against the skin of her breast. He stood up straight again, reclaiming her lips as he slowly slid his hand over until he could feel her warmth through her shorts. She made a noise that was lost into his mouth, and she took it upon herself to start taking her shorts off.

Within seconds, Emma was completely naked, while Hopper still stood there fully clothed, the only pieces missing from his outfit were his hat and jacket. She found that she didn’t mind, though. Once he slid his hand down and starting pleasing her effortlessly, she was grateful to have the fabric to clutch onto to prevent herself from just going limp.

She was shaking, letting out involuntary mews and gasps of pleasure as Hopper rubbed a calloused, educated thumb over her clit. “Tell me about the boys.” He said lowly in her ear. She didn’t reply, and he grabbed her in his strong hands and easily flipped her small frame over so that she was left bending over the desk. She whimpered as he moved his hands from her waist down to her ass, squeezing before giving her a hard spank.

“Tell me about them.” He repeated, kissing the back of her thigh dangerously close to her aching heat. She twitched involuntarily at the feeling. She felt like she had no control over her body under his touch.

“B-Billy Hargrove.” Was all she could muster up to say. Hopper squeezed her butt again, pushing the cheeks apart and leaning forward. She could feel the scratchiness of his beard on her as he kissed her core lightly.

“Tell me.” He growled, as he finally began to eat her out. Emma cried out in pleasure, and Hopper spanked her with his right hand, trying to get her to speak.

“We-” she was cut off by her own moan. “Oh my God.” She said shakily as Hopper devoured her. As much as he loved watching her fall apart on his desk, he knew he wanted to take his time with her.

He began to lick her agonizingly slow, making her whimper again. “You what?” He asked, letting one of hands roam over the soft skin of her ass and squeeze.

“We’ve ho-oked up a few t-times.” She struggled to get out. Hopper growled, not expecting to be jealous of the boys that a college aged girl was getting on with. He knew she wasn’t an “innocent” kind of girl. Though her short blonde hair and big hazel eyes may look angelic, he’d busted her plenty of times for a plethora of reasons. At least two of those times her neck proudly displayed numerous hickeys.

“What does ‘hooked up’ mean?” Hopper asked. She tried to move, but his strong hands firmly held her in place. He moved one finger to her opening, teasing it. “Answer me, little girl.”

“We’ve done stuff.” She answered in a desperate tone. Hopper pushed his finger into her, making her gasp.

“What kind of 'stuff?’” He asked, and for some reason, the fact that he was interrogating her while he was fingering her, and he had her completely naked while he’d not taken off even a shoe, was so erotic. She had no idea she’d liked this kind of thing, but she was excited to see where it went.

“U-um…” She wasn’t sure if she wanted to answer that, but Hopper definitely wanted a response. She felt him slightly curl his long finger inside of her, hitting her g-spot with the kind of accuracy she had never experienced with anyone else. She let out some kind of noise she didn’t even know what to call. Hopper didn’t let up, moving his finger in her over and over. She could barely even see, let alone focus on answering questions.

Behind her, Hopper stood up. One of his hands was still working her up, while the other hand gathered her hair into a ponytail and pulled her head back so that she was level with his face. “'Um’ isn’t an answer.” He said, and she felt him put a second finger inside of her. She moaned loudly, forgetting about the pain of her hair being pulled completely. “Did you sleep with him?”

“Yes.” She breathed, and he felt anger rise in him again for reasons he knew weren’t fair to her. He distracted himself by kissing her, moving his fingers in her faster. She found it too difficult to keep up with the kiss, breaking it to moan and whimper. Hopper let go of her hair and she dropped back down to the smooth wood of the desk. His hand slammed against the desk a few inches away from her face, with Hopper watching her intently as she came closer and closer to coming undone in front of him. He finally couldn’t take it anymore when she grabbed his hand from the desk and took one of his fingers in her mouth, sucking it slowly.

Hopper groaned loudly, grabbing her again and flipping her over so that she was lying on her back on top of the desk. “By the time I’m done with you, you won’t even remember his name.” He growled before he grabbed her legs, which dangled over the edge, and threw them over his shoulders as he dropped to his knees, beginning to eat her out again. Watching her chest rise and fall as he focused his tongue on her clit was fun, but he wanted more.

He held nothing back, putting two fingers in her and eating her as if she was his last meal. Quickly, she was nearly screaming, shaking, and grabbing his hair tightly in her hands. The second she began pulling on his hair, he used his free hand to unzip his pants and take out his aching cock. He took the hand that was pleasing her and held himself in it, covering himself in her wetness. She whined at the sight of him stopping before she truly finished, and he smirked.

He picked her up in one swift motion, making her let out a surprised squeal. He held her so effortlessly, keeping her just high up enough that his tip was teasing her entrance. He kissed her neck slowly, working his way up from the curve of her shoulder up to her earlobe, which he bit lightly, making her shudder. “You want me to fuck you, baby?” He asked huskily, his lips barely touching her ear.

“Yes.” She breathed, her hands gripping the cloth of his shirt. She’d never considered herself to be into a man in uniform, but the realization that she was fucking the domineering police chief made her knees weak. She was thankful that she was being held up.

“Beg for it, little girl.” He said, and she let out a whimper as he slowly moved her hips away from him, trailing his cock up to her clit.

“Please.” She whined, bucking her hips against him. “Please fuck me, please, please, pl-” Hopper cut her off by kissing her feverishly, which she immediately reacted to. His mind flashed back to that night on the playground, when he caught her with that boy. He remembered how she and him didn’t notice Hopper until he made himself known. He remembered how he’d stood there for a minute just watching her before he told them to stop. He remembered how angry it made him. He remembered the fire that started in his stomach as he watched her angelic face being defiled by the boy. He remembered how he’d wanted to rip that boy limb from limb for no rational reason.

And he pushed those thoughts back down in his mind as he slowly pushed Emma down onto him. She broke their kiss, her jaw dropping. He let out a shaky breath at the feeling. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt a pussy this tight clenching around him. He wondered if he ever had in his life, actually. His chest rose and fell heavily as he began to lift her body up and down, slowly at first, but soon picking up the pace. She felt like heaven.

Emma was whining and whimpering in his ear again, which he was surprised to find he absolutely loved. “You feel so big.” She confessed, burying her face in his neck. He smelled like cigarettes and a classically scented men’s cologne. She moaned loudly as he began to lower her onto himself with more force.

And from that point on, they became lost in each other for what felt like mere seconds yet years and years at the same time. Hopper had lost control of his vocal cords and was letting out grunts and moans and strings of curse words, which was music to Emma’s ears. Watching a man twice her age become a panting, cursing mess right in front of her made her feel sexier than she’d ever felt in her life.

His strength never seemed to falter, even as Emma began to grow tired despite doing none of the work herself. His stamina was intense, and he was able to put her into whatever position he wished. At one point he had her up against the wall, holding her steady as he thrusted his hips up into her, until she breathlessly asked if she could be on top.

Hopper wrapped her legs around his waist and carried her to his desk chair, sitting on it with her on his lap straddling him. She kneeled herself up, before she lowered herself back down onto him. He used this new position as an opportunity to run his hands over her soft skin. His hands roamed everywhere, and soon he couldn’t help himself from reaching his hands underneath her thighs and lifting her up, taking one of her nipples in his mouth and sucking on it for a moment before dropping her back onto his hardness.

“Let me do it.” Emma whined as his hands guided her hips up and down. Hopper chuckled against the skin of her neck as he kissed every inch of her that he could reach.

“You want to be in charge, huh?” He asked lowly as he moved his hands up her body, wrapping one around her throat and pulling her towards him with the other. He kissed her deeply as she controlled her own pace and rhythm. The angle that she was moving herself at was different than any other they’d been in while standing, and as she began to sloppily drop her hips onto him and moan loudly into his mouth, Hopper realized she was close to the edge. He reached his hand that held her throat down to her clit, rubbing it in circular motions, while his other hand had tangled itself into her hair.

“Fuck!” Emma cried as she began shaking. Hopper didn’t stop tracing his thumb in circles over her sensitive petal.

“Language, little girl.” He cooed, holding her steady as her body began to convulse on top of him. He couldn’t even begin to describe the sounds that she was making, or translate whatever sentences she had tried, and failed, to say- all he knew was that it was hot. He felt her muscles tense around him, tightening her walls even more, making him groan and instinctively start to buck his hips up into her. She got even louder as he began to do that.

He could feel himself getting close, so he lifted her out of the chair with him and laid her back onto the desk, pulling her hips until her legs were dangling off of it again. He picked up a leg on either side of him and entered her one last time. It didn’t take long for him to reach his peak as he watched her reactions to him pounding into her. He swiftly pulled himself out of her, groaning loudly as hot spurts of cum shot onto her stomach. They both stayed where they were, struggling to catch their breath. Hopper returned his softening cock to his boxers, zipping and rebuttoning his uniform’s pants. Emma grabbed a tissue from the corner of the desk above her head and wiped his load off of her stomach, sitting up slowly.

When they both came back to reality, neither of them knew what to say. Emma grabbed her clothes off of the floor and slowly, silently put them on. Hopper dropped back into his desk chair, watching her silently. He wanted to bring her back to his cabin and spend the night with her, staying up and toying with her all night. But he couldn’t do that.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” She said, breaking the silence briefly before she left the room. Hopper finally lifted himself out of his chair, grabbing the coat, hat, and keys he’d laid out haphazardly around the office. He exited and locked his office, turning around to see Emma approaching him from the hall.

“Ready to go?” He asked, not knowing what else to say. Emma nodded. They walked out of the door silently together, and got into the car. For the first time in what seemed like the history of the world, Emma didn’t ask obnoxious questions or try to get a rise out of Hopper during a drive. It was obvious that both of them were in their own heads, lost in thought, wondering what the consequences of tonight will be.

When they finally reached her house, the two still had no idea of what to say to each other. “Goodnight, Hopper.” Emma said casually, opening the door and climbing out of the car and shutting the door behind her.

Hopper rolled down the window on the passenger side of the car, calling out “Be good, kid!”

Emma turned and gave Hopper a thoughtful look. After a minute, though, a smirk crept onto her face. “See you next weekend, Chief.” She waved before she turned around and walked into her house.

#jim hopper #chief hopper #hopper #Jim Hopper smut #hopper smut #Jim Hopper imagine #hopper imagine #stranger things #stranger things smut

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fanfic-scribbles · 5 years ago

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Lunch Buddy: Chapter Thirteen

Masterlist

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Overall Story Facts:

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Story Summary: Steve Rogers makes a friend. A prickly, generally people-averse friend, but they’ll both take what they can get.

Quick Facts: Friendship (/Eventual Romance) – Steve Rogers & Reader (leading to Steve Rogers/Reader) – Female Reader

Story Warnings: Reader-insert that verges on OFC, written in 1st person past tense

Chapter 13: Hurt

Chapter Summary: Steve gets hurt and everybody else has to deal with the fallout. Jerk.

Chapter Word Count: 5197

A/N: I know what the next chapter is going to be and we are continuing our trajectory for ~softness~

I was sitting in bed on a beautifully lazy Saturday morning when my phone rang. I glanced over, expecting to have to tell Steve that I wouldn’t be putting on real pants for anything short of the end of the world and he had to come over or nothing, but it was Sam’s name that showed up on the screen.

“Hi Sam,” I answered and paused my game.

“Hey. I’m sorry to call you like this, but I need to tell you– Steve’s fine now, but he got hurt pretty bad.”

I put down the controller and felt a cold something creep through my body. “How bad?”

“He’ll recover just fine,” Sam said. “But some of his injuries–” He inhaled sharply and I gripped my comforter so hard my hand hurt. “Last I heard, he was still in a medically induced coma, but they were planning to take him out of it soon. It’s actually kind of a good thing though; he was hurting really bad and nothing they did was helping.”

“Because pain meds don’t do shit for him,” I said and held my face. How bad was that bad?

“Yeah,” Sam said, sounding regretful. “I had to get back to DC so I couldn’t stay, but he was doing a lot better when I left. Stable, and on his way to healing up. He’s going to be okay.”

Sure, right, yeah; aside from maybe almost dying before I knew anything about it. Not that I was important enough to know– I was just a friend– but… “Do you think they’d let me visit?”

“I think so. There are SHIELD agents keeping watch but…have you met Natasha yet?”

“No. I’ve met Pepper?”

“She might be able to help if you need it.” He sighed. “I’m sorry I can’t be there.”

Me too, but that was selfish. “Don’t worry Sam, I’ll figure it out. Thanks for letting me know.” I looked at my closet. “Fair warning though– when he’s out of the woods and I stop being freaked out, I’m gonna kick his ass.”

“Nat has dibs I think. He was covering her from an explosion.”

“Fine,” I said. “But if she doesn’t do a good enough job, I’ve got second dibs.”

“I’m not contesting that,” he chuckled. “I gotta go. I’m sleeping on my feet.”

“Are you okay?”

“Don’t worry; I’ll take a nap.”

“Sam.”

“I’ll be fine when I get a chance to sleep for three days. And I’m going to, I promise you that.”

I didn’t have time to nag. “You better. Bye Sam.” As soon as I hung up I jumped out of bed, put on real pants, grabbed some essentials, and bolted out the door so fast I got halfway down the hall before I realized I had to go back and lock it.

I spent the whole trip there panicking and trying not to panic. Sam said he was going to be fine, so Steve was fine, right? But he was in a hospital, and what kinds of injuries could keep Steve in a medically induced coma? The guy fought aliens and broke bones that healed in half the time and once stubbed his toe on the doorframe and didn’t even flinch.

I tried really hard to think about stubbed toes and slammed elbows rather than the myriad reasons one would be admitted to a hospital. Those thoughts carried me into the building, to the map where I could find his wing, and over and into said wing, up until I almost ran into someone. I pulled back to get around them. “I’m so sorry; I–”

They put themself right back in my path and I jerked back to see not just one but two very imposing, militarily inclined men. “Uhhhh….”

“This area is off-limits to unauthorized visitors,” one of them said.

Right; the SHIELD guys keeping watch. “I’m here to see Steve Rogers,” I said and told them my name in vain hopes I might be on a list or something.

The first guy, a sandy blond who looked like he wanted to drop-kick me out the window, shook his head. “Authorized personnel only. The Avengers probably have an address for fans to send well-wishes.”

Even though they had no reason to know who I was, I bristled at his snide tone. “I’m not a fan; I’m his friend.”

The other guy– dark hair, looked like a washed-up TV action star– snorted and he shared a look with the other guy that very clearly said what they thought of me.

“Ma’am,” Blond said. “Please leave or you will be escorted out.”

I felt sick. Steve was hurt and I couldn’t see him and the embarrassment of being seen as some sort of gross hanger-on was almost too much. Almost. I was too worried to be completely mortified, but I still had no recourse. They were dicks, but they were doing their jobs, and for the moment Steve was…safe. I turned, intending to text Pepper and wait in the cafeteria until she could help me (and maybe get a dusty bagel to help soak up the misery), when I almost smacked right into Tony Stark.

What a day.

“I’m– sorry,” I said lamely and moved aside to get around him.

“Who are you?” he asked.

I sighed and told him my name. “I’m a fr–”

“You’re Cap’s little lunch friend,” he said. He knew who I was? Stark waved a hand. “Pepper and Rogers have mentioned you. Well, Pepper mentioned; it feels like Cap brings you up all the time. You going in to visit?”

“I was going to, but–”

“Chickened out?”

“Not allowed, apparently,” I said and jabbed my thumb in the direction of the gargoyles. At least the assholes pretended to be more professional then and stopped snickering, but even Tony Stark (aka Iron Man) peering expectantly at them from the top of designer sunglasses just made knockoff-Stallone shake his head.

“No unauthorized visitors allowed,” he repeated.

“Oh come on; what’s Cap going to say when he finds out you chased off his BFF?”

They looked at me like they still didn’t believe it for a second. Blond said, “I’m sure Captain Rogers will understand we’re just doing our jobs.”

The worst part was that they were right, damn it.

“What does she need? A note from home?” Stark waved his hand. “I can write one; who has paper. We still do paper sometimes, right?”

“She needs proper authorization,” the guy on the right sneered.

“Consider this authorization.”

We all jumped at the sudden appearance of a man in a suit, whose calm smile made him look like the dictionary definition of ‘mild mannered.’ The two guards, however, stood very rigidly at attention. “Sir.”

The new man said my name and extended his hand. “I’m Phil Coulson.”

I shook his hand and introduced myself properly. “I’m sorry but– am I allowed to–”

“You can visit Captain Rogers whenever you like,” Phil Coulson said and looked right at the guards. “Understood?”

“Yes sir,” they said, much less enthusiastically than their initial acknowledgement to him.

“Not that Captain Unblemished is going to be here that long, but hey.” I suddenly had a small bouquet of flowers in my hands, thanks to Tony Stark. “Since you’re allowed all-access now, can you give these to Cap? I’ve got things to do.”

“Uhh, sur–”

“Thanks, nice meeting you, etcetera et al,” Stark said and left with a dramatic turn.

Somehow I had imagined a little more mocking, maybe a few accusatory points about me ruining some of his fun in poking at Steve, but the guy seemed…annoyed. And not necessarily with me. I turned my head to Coulson, who only shook his. “This last assignment got…complicated,” he said and opened his arm towards the hall. Understatement, but at least I was finally going to get to see Steve. The two…gentlemen…parted, and my second savior (wait until I told Steve who the first was) walked with me.

“He’s right in here,” Phil– Coulson– Phil Coulson said, standing next to an open door with no room number. The inside was very dimly lit, and the curtain drawn halfway over the door blocked the bed from sight, but I felt less like a tension rod.

“Thank you, Mr. Coulson,” I said. “I’m sorry if I caused problems.”

“It was no problem for me, and there won’t be more for you,” he said like it was a promise. “And please, Phil is fine. I was on my way out earlier and I’m afraid I still have to go, but it was nice to finally meet you. Hopefully next time we’ll see each other under better circumstances.”

“Yeah, next time. Thank you,” I said and stepped in.

It was so quiet, and mostly dark, aside from a single light off in the corner. Steve was very still in the bed, bruised and bandaged, but I could see his chest moving. He looked roughed up, but he didn’t look comatose. He didn’t even look like he had come close to death. He just looked like he was sleeping.

I set the flowers down on the nearest flat surface and walked slowly, quietly, to the chair next to his bedside, and perched on the edge of it. I wasn’t sure, at first, if I should stay– he was sleeping; was this creepy?– but the more I looked at him the more I settled in. One of his arms was completely wrapped up; there was a bruise on his jaw, closer to his neck than his chin; a strip of stitches on his neck; one, two, three, four, five scratches that I could see, plus a patch of skin that was raw, like it had rubbed against concrete. He didn’t look as bad as I’d expected him to, which I assumed meant all the terrible things had happened on the inside.

But he was breathing. He wasn’t even on oxygen; nothing about the machines around him said he was in dire straits. With a little bit of makeup he could have looked like a hospital patient in a Hallmark movie, ready to wake up and be released at any moment.

But he had been hurt. He had been hurt badly enough that it was a blessing he had been out for the healing process. I didn’t know why I hated that idea so viscerally, but it made me want to punch something.

I sighed. A small tuft of hair hung at a weird angle over his forehead and I brushed it back into place. Then, just to reassure myself, I let my hand hover over his mouth and felt a warm, steady pulse of air.

“They took him out of it earlier.”

I jumped so hard I hit my feet and had to windmill so as not to crash into one of the monitors. Miraculously, I didn’t knock anything over or otherwise make a lot of noise, and Steve didn’t show any signs of waking. Once I was done with my quiet heart attack, I turned to face the woman standing at the end of the bed. She had red hair and eyes sharp enough to cut. I had a sinking feeling I knew exactly who she was.

“Uh…hi,” I said and forced my hand down, away from my heart and to my side. I told her my name and waited for her to finish looking me over.

“Natasha Romanoff,” she said.

Yup. “It’s nice to meet you,” I said. “Steve says a lot of good things.”

She barked a laugh. “Did Rogers pay you to say that?”

That was surprisingly harsh, so I kept quiet. I was batting a thousand today. But she sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m sorry.” She straightened out and looked completely composed. Neat trick. “It’s been a long week.”

“I bet,” I said. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” She moved her eyes to Steve and frowned. “Annoyed, but that’s not fatal.”

“Yeah, I’d have been dead a long time ago if it was,” I said and shrugged. “But I also would have taken a few jerks out with me, so…win some, lose some, I guess.”

She made a small noise that was neither this way nor that and I shut my mouth before I could embarrass myself further. She walked around to his other side. “Who called you?”

“Sam.”

“Did he tell you what happened?”

“Not…exactly,” I said. I didn’t really want to tell her because I wasn’t sure her current sense of humor would allow for me to fake-threaten our mutual friend, but she looked at me so hard I got my bank information and social security number ready to go just in case she wanted them. “I got upset and made a joke about having dibs on kicking Steve’s ass when he’s better. Sam said actually you had it first since Steve was covering you in some explosion?”

Her lips pressed tight for a moment as she stared at Steve. “He didn’t have to.”

“But he’ll probably argue it when he gets up.” I looked at him. “He’s a jerk like that.”

“Yes. He really is,” Natasha said. She started to reach for him, but then abruptly stepped back. “I’m– I can’t deal with him yet.” She started to leave, but stopped at the edge of the curtain. “Are you staying for a while?”

“I think so.” I pulled out my book to show her and set it on my lap. “I don’t really have much else to do today.”

She nodded curtly. “Good. The rest of us do, but Steve…he doesn’t have the best reaction to waking up in medical. It’ll be better if he has a friend.”

I couldn’t imagine anyone having a great reaction to waking up alone, in a hospital, after almost dyi– “I’m on it,” I said before I could delve too deep into those thoughts.

“Thank you,” she said with a brief burst of warmth that almost made her seem like someone else. Then she was back to being aloof. “I’m sure I’ll see you later.”

I didn’t even have time to say “Bye�� before the curtain swooshed behind her and settled into place like she was never there.

It was a couple of hours before Steve began to stir, and I had only left my seat to stand up and stretch a few times. I didn’t know he was awake at first, until I saw part of the pillow shift, and I put my book on my lap to find him staring at me. Drowsily, but definitely staring.

“Hi.” He squinted and frowned. “Am I dreaming?”

I snorted and put my bookmark in before I set the book on the table. “No. I’m pretty sure your subconscious isn’t that mean to make my face the first one you see.”

He frowned deeper. “My subconscious definitely isn’t that mean to you.”

“Hey, I call it like I see it.” I leaned in closer. We were both quiet, and I was content to stay that way. “I’ve been looking up photos and your teammates are pretty. I mean, Sam alone would be a good sight.”

“Sam is very handsome,” he agreed so easily it made me smile. “But it’s not so bad to wake up to you. Not bad at all.”

“Do they have you on pain meds?” I asked.

He shrugged, and winced as he did so. “Doubt I could tell if they did. I don’t hurt as much anymore, though.”

“Good. That’s good.” I swallowed. “I’m glad you're okay.”

He got a small smile. “Soft.”

“Only right now. You scared the shit out of me.”

Steve lost his smile and opened his eyes wider. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault, it’s just…” It felt like my throat swelled, so I took a second to try and compose myself.

But Steve was alert now and sat up. “Hey, no; come here.”

I didn’t quite know what he meant, until I saw his arms open and, well, why not. I couldn’t help but glance at the door but there was no new noise and nobody I could see, and I leaned in to hug him as gently as I could. He wrapped his arms around me, warm and breathing and feeling like normal. “I’m okay. I’m sorry I scared you.”

“You scared a lot of people,” I said and stayed there until his grip loosened and I could pull back. “But since I’m selfish, yeah; mostly me.”

He smiled weakly and squeezed my hand. “I’m sorry you had to find out.”

“I’m not,” I said. “I’m glad; I…I guess maybe it’s weird for you that I’m here–”

“It’s not,” he said. “It’s definitely not. I’m just sorry I upset you.”

“It’s an upsetting thing.” I shrugged. “Emotions. They kind of suck.”

“Sometimes,” he said. Someone knocked on the door and we both looked when someone came in. I winced as the lights were turned on, but I suddenly realized Steve had still been holding my hand up until that point, when he released it to rub his eyes.

“Oh, sorry Captain,” the doctor said and she smiled at me. “I didn’t realize you had a visitor.”

“Oh, hi Dr. Sherazi,” Steve said, sounding a little brighter. He introduced me to her and we shook hands. I was getting a little tired by all the new people, but I tried not to let it show too much. Steve was worse off; I could be okay for him.

“When I said don’t be a stranger this isn’t quite what I meant,” she said and started checking monitors. When she turned to me, face already expressing apologies, I knew what was coming and I looked at Steve.

“Go home.” He reached out and touched my arm. “I’ll be okay.”

And I didn’t hide myself that well, apparently, because he gave me a Look that said he knew I’d rather be gone. I wasn’t sure whether to feel bad about that or not. “Are you sure?” I asked.

“Yeah. I’m going to call Sam and after that I’ll probably be besieged by people wanting to yell at me.” He cringed. “I…don’t want anyone to see that, really.”

I nodded because I didn’t want to be obnoxious, but after I packed up I asked him, “Is it okay if I come back tomorrow? I don’t– I don’t have any plans, really; but it’s okay if you don’t…”

“I’d like that,” he said and opened one arm. I hugged him one more time and took a real breath for the first time since that phone call.

The next day I pre-planned my morning and set off with a few extra supplies. I stopped by a pastry shop on the way and stood in a long line to get a drink for me, fill a thermos for Steve, and buy a few treats which I shoved in my bag with his tightly-lidded coffee. When I got to the hallway and saw the same two guards I braced myself, but they looked resigned when they saw me.

“We apologize for the misunderstanding yesterday,” the dark-hair one said and his partner muttered something similar. “And for our reactions; it was uncalled for.”

I tried to smile as brightly as I could. “It’s okay; I can be a bitch sometimes too so, hey, kindred spirits,” I joked.

He frowned. Deeply. My smile fell. “It was a– I was just kidding; I meant–” I sighed and gave up when his face didn’t change. “I’m sorry,” I said and left.

Steve looked bright-eyed and bushy-tailed when I came in and threw the curtain back into place behind me. “Even when I try to be nice I fucking suck at it,” I said and dumped my bag on the chair.

“Good morning to you too,” Steve chuckled and put his fork down. “What happened?”

I opened my mouth and stopped. He looked normal, healthy, but he was still in a hospital bed. “Don’t worry about it,” I said and put my drink on the side table so I could rifle through my bag. “Here,” I said and handed him the thermos.

“You're my favorite,” he said fervently and took it.

That made me smile again. Pretty big, too. “Also here,” I said and put the two white bags on his tray. “This place didn’t have strawberry so I got you a chocolate and a plain croissant.”

“You’re my favorite person ever,” he said and pushed the hospital’s plates aside so he could dig in.

“Yeah, yeah; eat it before someone else walks in. I didn’t bring enough to share.” I was the best. My smile was almost painful, but luckily Steve was too distracted to notice while I wrestled it under control. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. The burns are gone.” He held up his arm to show me skin instead of gauze.

“I guess you’re not going to be the mummy for Halloween.”

“No, but I could be Frankenstein’s monster maybe.” He extended his neck to show me the scar where his stitches had been.

“Tch.” I sat back. “It’ll be gone in a few days.”

“Like nothing ever happened,” he quipped, too lightly, but that was an issue I didn’t know how to tackle.

“Except for my new blood pressure medication from the heart attack you gave me.”

“Were you that worried?” he asked jokingly.

“Yes,” I said. He went silent and stopped eating. “Looks like I’m not the only one who doesn’t know how to deal with actual concern.”

“I could learn,” Steve said with a softer smile.

“You’ll need to with friends like yours,” I said. “They were all pretty worried.”

He shrugged. “Most.”

Maybe– I hadn’t met all of them– but I was pretty sure I knew who he meant. “I don’t think I would have been allowed in without Tony Stark’s help when he came to visit,” I said. Steve’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “There are some SHIELD guys making sure not just anybody can come in and some random chick claiming to be your friend naturally didn’t make the cut. But when I was about to leave, Tony Stark came up on his way in and made it a thing until Phil Coulson came by and said I could be here.”

“Oh,” Steve said. “I’ll have to thank Tony.”

“Me too, but I’m trying to figure out how,” I said. “I’m thinking the cheesiest fucking card I can find but I don’t think he’d get that I’m joking. That would be awkward.”

Steve smiled. He was about to say something but I caught sight of the book in his lap and I jerked to attention as I suddenly remembered. “I brought you books!” I said and got them out to hand to him. “Just in case you get bored. I almost forgot.”

“Thank you,” he said, laughing, and set them aside. “Did you ‘just remember’ because you know I was going to say something sincere?”

Huh. “No, but wow, I got lucky.”

“Steve, you’ve got to get some friends that aren’t emotionally constipated.”

We both looked to the doorway to see a man with two butterfly bandages on his cheek, a smudge of dirt on his throat (in blatant contrast to his obviously recently washed hair), and a bouquet of flowers in his hands. The price sticker was still on the cellophane wrapping and I snorted at the sight. Perfectly coifed spies and billionaires were something else. This guy was an unmistakable disaster. I could handle that.

“But then how would he relate?” I asked as the man came over to give Steve a hug and place his flowers next to the set from Tony Stark.

“I’m way better with my emotions than you are,” Steve said, looking at me as his friend stood up.

“That’s like saying you’re taller than the ground,” I said. His friend laughed and I…took a little pride in that; sue me. Steve then introduced me to Clint Barton.

“Hawkeye,” Clint said and grinned wolfishly. “But if you don’t know who Captain America is then I’ve got no chance.”

I glared at Steve. “You told people about that?”

“It’s funny,” he said, his smirk nearly matching Clint’s grin for deviousness alone.

But Clint’s face fell when he sniffed the air. “Hey,” he said. “It smells like chocolate in here.”

“She brought me a chocolate croissant,” Steve said.

“Aw.” Clint deflated.

“Yeah, it’s all gone. Sorry,” Steve said.

Clint narrowed his eyes. “You're not sorry at all, are you?”

“Nope,” Steve said cheerfully.

Clint looked at me and jerked his thumb in Steve’s direction. “This guy.”

“Yup, he’s an asshole,” I agreed. I looked at Steve. “But for some reason we like him anyway.”

“For some reason.”

Natasha was apparently the queen of sneaky entrances, but I didn’t jump this time. She was a little steely, until she saw me looking, and then she gave me a real smile and greeted me with a hello.

Maybe she was like a shark waiting to bite, but I hadn’t done anything wrong, so I smiled back. “Hello Natasha.”

“How are you?”

“Oh, I’m all right. You?”

“I’m much better, thank you.”

“I don’t like this,” Clint said, creeping towards the door.

“You two have…met?” Steve asked, not taking his eyes away from Natasha. Smart.

“Briefly,” Natasha said.

She and Steve stared each other down and I looked around but Clint was gone. Oh. I looked at them. “Should I leave?”

Steve opened his mouth. “Please,” Natasha said politely, without looking at me. “We won’t be long.”

“Okay.” I stood up and left my bag at the chair, but I hesitated. However the way they looked at each other– Natasha ready to strike and Steve ready to defend– made this completely out of my league. I slipped out the door and shut it behind me.

“Oh geeze,” Clint said.

I sighed and stared at the door. I didn’t hear anything, but that wasn’t necessarily good. “I can’t believe I was so worried about him almost dying only to lose him like this. Unfair.”

Clint patted my shoulder consolingly.

But only a couple of minutes passed before Natasha opened the door, and she wasn’t covered in blood. That seemed like a good sign. Then again, strangling someone wouldn’t cause a whole lot of blood loss. I couldn’t help but peek in first and Clint did the same, but while Steve looked a little stunned, he was still alive.

“Wow,” I said and went back to my seat.

“I have excellent self-restraint,” she said and leaned against the wall with her arms crossed. “At least we finally got to meet you.” Her tone dipped into teasing. “Steve has been so sly, stealing away all the time for his lunch dates.”

Steve turned red and ducked down. “Come on, Nat.”

“Not very sneaky are you?” I said, even though it was true.

“No, he really isn’t.” Natasha’s lips were tinged with amusement. “But I hear you’re pretty direct yourself.”

I shrugged. “Guilty.” I looked elsewhere. “I don’t have the best filter.”

“You’re fine,” Steve said.

Maybe, but most likely not really. He was probably just being nice to me because I had fallen to pieces the day before. I cleared my throat and sat back when I realized I was leaning close to Steve. I could do this; I could make nice with his friends. I hoped. “By the way Natasha, thanks for that photo of Steve chucking Sam into the water. It’s my desktop background.”

“It’s what?!”

I ignored Steve and so did Natasha, but Clint laughed. Natasha smiled. “I’m glad you appreciated it. It is one of my favorite photos I’ve ever taken.”

I realized something then and dared to get my hopes up. “Steve. Surfing. Is there video?”

“Of course” and “Of course not” came in unison from Natasha and Steve respectively, and he whipped his head in her direction so fast I heard his neck crack.

“Natasha,” he pleaded.

“That’s very valuable blackmail though,” she told me. “I have stories that would unseat politicians I’d charge less for.”

“How much to peek at stills?”

“I’m sure your job is lovely, but it’s still probably more than you make.”

“A recounting of the experience?”

“Hmm…how detailed?”

“I’ll take subject-verb-object at this point.”

“Steve surfed wave.” Her lips curled devilishly. “Wave surfed Steve.”

“Two sentences?” I gasped.

“Well, I like you,” she said.

“Hey Clint,” Steve said. “Do me a favor and tell the doc I want those experimental pain meds she was trying to talk me out of. Or just, anything that makes me unconscious so I don’t have to hear Nat get sweet-talked into giving up that video.”

“Wow, you really do believe in me,” I said. “It’s okay though, my imagination can take it from here.”

Steve’s mouth screwed downwards. “I have no friends. Everyone I love is dead to me.” He looked thoughtful. “Or dead.”

That was so delightfully dark it shocked me into laughter, and Clint too by the sound of it. Natasha, however, punched him so hard he actually said “Ow!” and rubbed his arm.

I stayed with them for a couple of hours, until my patience began to fray and I started checking the clock. Not that Natasha and Clint weren't great (I might have fallen a little in love with her when she made a “Die Hard” joke so wonderfully dumb that Clint got caught up in a groan while he laughed) but I was just…getting tired. Before I could attempt some pathetic excuse, though, my phone buzzed and I pulled it out.

Pepper: You might want to warn Steve that Tony is on his way.

“Oh boy,” I said and fired off a quick ‘thanks.’ When I looked up they were all staring at me, and I looked at Steve to get my grounding. “Pepper just said Tony Stark’s on his way.”

“‘Oh boy’ is right.” Steve grimaced. “You should probably go before he gets here.”

I hesitated, because that seemed a little crappy, however…I knew my limits. “Yeah, I– I don’t think I have the energy for him.”

“Don’t worry.” Natasha took a seat. “We’ll supervise.”

“Aww,” Clint said, but he showed absolutely no sign of moving. How someone could lean almost 180 degrees in a chair that was very solidly 90 degrees (if not less) and even pretend to look comfortable I had no idea, but more power to him.

I packed up and stopped to hug Steve. He held me a little longer than I expected. “Don’t worry; I’ll be out by tonight,” he said and let go. “And as soon as I’m done with debriefs, I’ll let you know. I still owe you lunch.”

“So you better stick around.” I stood. “I’ll collect. Someday.”

“I won’t hold my breath on that one,” he said.

I held my heart and looked in Clint and Natasha’s direction. “He’s learning.”

I got a pillow to the face, but Natasha got a new cushion. And while Steve may have been annoyed…he was okay. And he was going to continue to be okay.

Win-win.

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#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers & reader #captain america fanfic #avengers fanfic #reader insert #lunch buddy

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pandawritespoorly · 5 years ago

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With Time: Chapter 13 - Confidence in Progress

Author’s Note: Here we are, posting more With Time! I love the response to the akuma in the last chapter, it was a ...unique thing to write. Anyways, without further ado, here's chapter 13!

Chapter Summary: Marinette talks with Fu quickly. The Quantics and Co. bake cookies.

First | Previous | Saturday

Marinette knocks on the door, waiting for the Guardian to open the door.

She doesn’t have to wait long, she’s allowed in quickly, “Ah, Marinette, we’ve been expecting you.” Master Fu speaks calmly.

“You have?” Did she mess up that bad?

“When Wayzz and I saw that The Revealer lasted so long, we were certain it would not be long before Tikki or Plagg fell ill. It would seem Tikki is the first.”

“Given Plagg’s nature to take longer breaks, that is no surprise.” The turtle Kwami shows up above Fu’s shoulder. They walk into the same room where Tikki first got healed. Marinette lifts her Kwami gingerly from her bag and gives her to Master Fu, who nods and begins.

After the ceremony is finished, Tikki munches happily on a cookie in front of Marinette.

“Master?” She’s been debating this for so long, postponing and procrastinating as long as she can, but being here already, she has no more excuses. “Yes, Marinette?”

“I can’t call on Rena Rouge or Carapace anymore.” Given how she reacted to simply seeing Alya and Lila, there is no hope that she can work efficiently as a team with them anymore. She studies the floorboards, unable to meet his eyes. She failed to choose heroes well. He’s going to be so disappointed.

He sips from his tea calmly, “Why is that?”

“I- you told me to choose someone I can trust, and…”

“And you no longer you feel that your choices are worthy of that honor.” She would have phrased it a little differently, more along the lines of fearing the wrath of a betrayed friend, but maybe she can think of it that way instead. It feels better that way.

“...yes.”

“Very well. It is understandable to come along bumps in the road. You are a smart heroine, Marinette, I will trust your judgement.”

“But what if I choose wrong again? How many ‘bumps in the road’ will there be?” She doesn’t want to mess up again. Not after last time.

“Perhaps you should consider the actions of a hero. When I looked for people to become the holders of the Black Cat and Ladybug miraculouses, I considered their actions. You, as well as your partner, proved yourselves to already being capable of heroic acts, without the jewelry.”

“So I need to find people who… already act like heroes?” She finally meets his eyes, and finds nothing negative in them.

“Indeed. Being heroic does not require magic jewelry.” He pours more tea for himself, “You mentioned that Rena Rouge and Carapace would not be fighting anymore, but what of Queen Bee?”

That didn’t even occur to her. She’d not even considered Chloe, because the blonde had been less involved in the actions leading up to Marinette’s transfer. No, that isn’t entirely right. She’d been involved, but in a positive way. She’d been the one to bring her home on Thursday, calming her down in the bathroom.

She’d even apologized for her past actions.

“I- I think there will be a new holder for the Bee miraculous as well.” “But…?”

“But I think that having the miraculous has helped Chloe change. For the better. I think that if I needed back-up and she was available, I would choose her. I trust her - more that Rena and Carapace.”

“So in the event that you require the assistance of the Bee, or if the new Bee holder is unavailable, you would allow Ms. Bourgeois to take up the title temporarily?” Master Fu looks to her for confirmation.

“Yes. I would.” She nods.

“I will inform Trixx and Pollen.” Wayzz floats up from his snack. Marinette feels bad, he and Nino seemed to get along well.

“I’m sorry, Wayzz.”

“It is quite alright, Marinette. I was aware from the start that the arrangement may not be permanent. I do regret that Nino made the choices he did. Perhaps this will be a learning experience for him. I can only hope.”

Marinette smiles weakly at him and he flies to the Miracle Box. Her phone dings in her pocket.

“Perhaps you should be on your way. Unless there is anything else?”

“No, Master.” She starts toward the door, “Thank you.”

Once outside she glances around quickly before looking to her purse.

“How do you feel, Tikki?” The little Kwami looks a lot better, she’s sitting in the purse looking up at Marinette with bright eyes holding a cookie in her paws.

“Much better, thank you!”

“It wasn’t a problem, you were sick, I couldn’t leave you like that.” What if there had been another akuma? Tikki would have felt even worse after that, and that would be terrible.

“Why am I any different than you?” She knows the Kwami is thinking of her behaviour on Saturday, overworking herself to get her to the point that she got to. Marinette shakes her head.

Why is it different? It just is. Tikki is the Kwami of Creation and Marinette is just some human girl. But she’s Ladybug, she’s a hero. Maybe it isn’t that diff-

Tikki makes surprised squeak and ducks back into her bag, Marinette glances up and sees Adrien coming this way. She’s still standing in front of Fu’s place and there’s no way she could leave without catching his eye.

He hasn’t noticed her yet, due to how intently he’s looking into his bag, seemingly talking to himself. Once he reaches the massage shop, he stops and looks to the door. He finally notices Marinette and pauses, staring at her in slight confusion,”Oh, uh, hey Marinette. What are you doing here?”

“I- uh, um, tea! My… maman! Yes, my maman wanted some tea and sent me here! For the tea!” she smiles convincingly, “Wh-what about you?”

“My uh, Chinese tutor, uh wanted me to come to him today, so… yeah.”

She nods, that makes sense.

“Actually, Mari, how are you?” He cocks his head at her slightly, looking at her caringly.

“What?” Did she worry him somehow? How did she do that? Why did she do that?

“I, um, happened to be near your school during the akuma attack. I saw Alya and Lila… it looked like you had noticed them too? I just, uh, tried to distract them. They’re back at Fr- school now.”

Right. Alya. And Lila. Do they know? Do they know where she goes now? Are they going to find her? They’re going to find her at school tomorrow. They’re going to confront her, her friends will find out just how much she sucks, they’ll hate her too, because of course they would that’s what she des-

Adrien puts a hand on her shoulder, interrupting her spiraling, “Marinette.”

“R-right. Um, I’m good. I-I’m fine.” He looks at her doubtfully, but before he can say anything more, she continues,”Anyways, I should get this tea! Back to Maman! And you, probably need to uh, get tutored! For chinese! Ummm… yup! Bye!” She turns and hurries away, waving over her shoulder at him as she goes.

The rules. The rules. She can’t just disregard the rules.

Rule #6: If asked, you’re doing good

She’s good. Absolutely fine. Perfectly great. No need for anyone to worry about her. Her phone dings again.

Right! She’d completely forgotten that someone had texted her. She’d ignored someone. They were probably worried about her now. Stupid.

Rule #11: Adrien, Claude, Allegra, Allan, and Felix have been nice enough to put up with you, don’t make them regret it.

Or it’s her parents, who don’t have a choice in enduring her stupidity. Either way, she’d ignored someone for longer than necessary and now they’d either been forced to check with her again or they were finally letting her know that they’re done with her nonsense.

Kid Mime: hey if u want to come over when ur dun u can!

Kid Mime: were mking cookies

HE LOVES US: I fear they may burn down the building.

HE LOVES US: ...

Felix: Marinette, excuse me for a moment to exact revenge on Claude.

The Mom Friend: dont worry

The Mom Friend: there fine

Oh. They weren’t mad. They didn’t hate her.

Yet.

Maybe she should go? They wouldn’t hate her for it if she’d been invited. They were making cookies, that would be fun.

You’d get in the way. You’ll be that killjoy that gets too specific about the recipe.

“You should go!” Tikki has made her way onto the girl’s shoulder, “Cookies are fun!”

Tikki likes cookies. She would go for Tikki. That’s okay, right? It’s not selfish if you’re going for someone else?

Patiserie Princess: im on my way

---

As soon as she knocks on the door, it opens and she is whisked into Claude’s kitchen, where chaos is likely about to ensue. There are, presumably, all the ingredients necessary out along with a few measuring cups. There’s a bowl on the counter that might be meant for mixing all the ingredients, but it’s probably too small. The stove has a pot on it but the stove is off. Claude already has some flour on him, despite the flour being closed. Allan is taking out a few more ingredients, while Felix sits at the counter with tea, content to watch for now. It’s probably a good choice considering his black clothing would display any and all flour that lands on it.

Something is placed on her head. She looks up to see Allegra beside her.

“Thank goodness you’re here. Claude decided I’m in charge and I don’t know what I’m doing. You’ve got the hat so you’re in charge now.”

“M-me?! Are you sure I should?”

“You live in a bakery, and regularly assist in baking goods for sale. Of all of us you will be the most capable of directing us in creating baked goods.” Felix sips his tea as he says this.

“Yay! Marinette’s here to save us!” Claude throws his arms in the air as Allan puts the last of the ingredients on the counter.

“Hey, ‘Nette.” he looks at the chef’s hat, “So what do we do?”

“I don’t know, uh… where’s the recipe?” She still wasn’t convinced that she is the best to be in charge. They’ve never seen her as a leader, are they sure they want her to do this?

Allegra hands her a sheet of paper printed from a website. Marinette skims it quickly. It’s pretty good, but being raised by two bakers she makes some small adjustments in her head. Used to correcting recipes at home, she grabs a pen and quickly scribbles them onto the paper. Something in her switches, and she steps back with a mindset she hasn’t used in her civilian life since before. Her friends see the different expression - a new one for them - and smile.

“Alright, so first we’re going to need to melt the butter. Allan, I’m going to need to you turn the stove to a medium heat and keep an eye on it. Once it is boiling, stir it constantly until it is an amber color. At that point let it cool for twenty minutes.”

She hands him the two sticks of butter and turns to Claude and Allegra, “You two should measure out and mix the dry ingredients.” She hands them the corrected sheet, “And you’re going to want a bigger bowl.” She approves their new bowl, taking the old one with her as she clears a space a little away from the others to cut up the pretzels.

While they’re all distracted by their tasks, there’s a knock at the door. Felix stands and opens it, allowing Adrien into the kitchen. He starts to speak, but stops abruptly as he takes in the scene before him.

At this point Allegra and Claude have finished mixing and are just talking. Marinette has mixed the chocolate and butterscotch chips and pretzels together in a bowl. She’s standing at the stove with Allan and they’re talking as well. Felix has returned to his tea and none of those involved in the baking have noticed him yet. A timer beeps and Marinette straightens.

“Alright, the butter is cool now. Allegra, can you put the eggs and vanilla in with the butter? Allan can you do the brown sugar? I can mix it, and Claude, you can mix in the stuff in the other bowl when we get to that point.” Marinette is entirely in her element, having been raised on recipes that were probably more complicated than this one. She knows what to do and is easily directing those around her to include them all in the process.

Adrien hasn’t seen her so comfortable and confident - especially when directing others - in, well, a while now. It’s nice to see. He decides against interrupting and sits next to Felix to watch.

Father wouldn’t allow him to join in such a messy activity anyways.

Soon enough, the cookies have been put in the oven and Marinette sets the timer for them. She takes the hat off her head, “There! All done! I told you that it wasn’t that complicated!”

“That’s ‘cause you actually knew what you were doing!” Claude exclaims, hugging her.

“I am still certain that without your presence Claude’s kitchen may not have survived this experience.” Felix stands to put his mug away and the others finally notice Adrien.

“Oh hey, Adrien. When’d ya’ get here?” Allan sits at the table with the blond.

He shrugs, ”A little bit ago. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“You could have said something, if you want to join.” Marinette has yet to flip back to her normal state of mind. She’s channeling her Ladybug mindset for public situations.

“Father wouldn’t have wanted me to.”

At this, Marinette gets a defiant tone and her expression changes to yet another new one for all but Adrien, “Well y-” She cuts herself off abruptly, remembering herself and slouching slightly, “Well that’s unfortunate.”

“I think that you should do what you want. He’s not here to stop you.” Allegra sits as well.

“Last time I tried that we were chased through Paris by a mob of fans.” The others are confused, but before any of them can question further, Marinette drops her head to the table.

“Ugh. I still can’t believe I was in my pajamas that whole time. How did I forget to change into my clothes before leaving the house? Aaaaaah.”

Adrien snorts at that and Claude slams his hands onto the table (but gently), “Storytime?!”

“It was on the news…” Adrien supplies, wondering if that would jog their memories - if they’d seen it at all.

“Don’t remind meeee…” Allan pats Marinette consolingly. Her head is still on the table.

“It’d still be more fun to hear it from you guys.” Allegra leans forward excitedly.

Adrien shrugs, deciding to start with the news footage. He pulls it up on his phone and puts it in view of all of them. Marinette sits up to watch it, cringing every so often.

“Anyways that’s just the early stuff-”

“So not even all of it, you didn’t even see my brilliant disguises.” Marinette covers her face with her hands.

“It turned into an akuma attack eventually.”

“You got dropped off the side of a building…”

“He what?!” Allan interrupts them, “Were you okay?”

“You guys lead very eventful lives...” Allegra adds.

“Ladybug caught me. Also her cure would have fixed anything anyways.”

“Still.” Allan shakes his head. Marinette’s point goes unspoken. What if it didn’t fix everything? What will happen when she inevitably messes everything up and can’t reverse the damage? People shouldn’t trust Ladybug so much.

“I don’t think that our lives are that eventful…” Marinette tries to draw their attention away from Ladybug. It’s hypocritical, but as much she wishes they wouldn’t trust her hero alter-ego so much, she fears the day when everyone realizes how useless she really is.

Well, maybe useless is a strong word.

“The lives of spectacular people are always eventful! That’s what happens when you’re talented Mari!” Claude throws his arms in the air excitedly and she blushes.

“Well, if the heroes of Paris recognize ya’ by name your life has gotta’ be at least kinda’ interesting…” Allan chimes in.

Marinette shrugs noncommittally. She wouldn’t mind telling them those stories, but they involve her old classmates and to think about them too long would make her feel bad - which would be against the rules - one of the newer ones.

Rule #12: Don’t do anything that could attract an akuma to you.

She’d already messed that up earlier, but she hadn’t seen it coming. Alya showing up with Lila had been a surprise.

You should have realized that she would have shown up at an akuma attack you idiot.

To be fair though, Alya was only part of the problem, it was Lila’s presence that had really pushed her over the edge.

No. No excuses. The whole point of her rules is to have her accept these things as facts. If they’re facts, then she shouldn’t feel bad, thereby making her safe from akumas. She can’t just follow them whenever she pleases - that’s not how rules work. She’s been breaking the rules a lot recently, especially when she got sick. Maybe it would be for the best if she re-read them tonight. For the sake of reminding herself.

She’d memorized them, so she hadn’t read them in almost a week.

“What should we do while the cookies are in the oven? Board games?” Claude suggests.

“Sure!” Allegra clears the table to make room for whatever Claude drags out of his room. He brings a few different things out. It’s impressive just how many things he manages to carry at once.

“Okay! I got Jenga, Suspend, Sorry, Sleeping Queens, Dixit, Coup…”

“That’s a lot of games at once, Claude.” Allegra looks at him doubtfully, “Do you two even know how to play some of these?” She looks at Marinette and Adrien.

Marinette nods, but Adrien shakes his head.

“The only board game I’ve played is Monopoly. I hadn’t even played that until a few months ago…”

“Welp. Claude’s gonna’ introduce ya’ to all of his.”

“You bet I am!” He punctuates this statement by dropping everything at the end of the table.

Eventually the group settles into their games, and when the timer goes off, Marinette takes the cookies out to let them cool, turning the oven off before joining back into the game. They play a couple different games for a few hours, eating the cookies while they play. Marinette slips a couple in her purse for Tikki.

“These taste like friendship!” Claude declares.

“They’re pretty good.” Allegra says, then notices Adrien hasn’t had one yet, “Do you want one Adrien?”

“Well, uh,” he rubs the back of his neck, “Do you think I’m allowed to? Father…”

Before the rest of them can respond, Marinette hits her palms to the table, looking at Adrien intensely, whispering conspiratorially, “Rebel.”

The group laughs when Adrien eats a cookie quickly, seemingly having been entirely convinced by this.

Eventually it’s starting to grow dark outside, and it’s time for them to leave. Claude shows them out.

“Farewell, friends!” The other five smile, waving goodbye as they leave. Once they’re outside Marinette wraps her coat around herself tighter, hissing at the cold.

“You gonna’ be good ‘Nettie?” Allan cocks his head at her.

“M’ house isn’t that far.” The girl sticks close to the rest of them, which doesn’t seem like it would do much good. Her miraculous condition makes her extra sensitive to heat in the winter though, so for her it’s a little better - she can sense their body heat. It’s entirely unconscious, but she always can tell where a heat source is. It’s not super useful when she’s too tired to move, but at least it means she typically falls asleep on the warmest person.

“We’ll walk with you - just to be safe.” Allegra wraps an arm around the shorter girl’s shoulders, who leans into her.

They carry on their conversation as they walk, dropping off Marinette first. She goes straight to her bed, as does Tikki. Before Marinette can sleep, she forces herself to sit up, remembering her promise to reread the lists.

After she reads them she thinks that maybe it had been too long since she read them last, seeing as now she felt bad and that is the whole thing she’s trying to avoid.

She goes to sleep afterwards, because she’s still tired. She can think about the lists again in the morning.

---

Author’s Note: That definitely wasn't an excuse for her new friends to put her in charge of something while still allowing her to stay in her element. No,of course not. They're just helpless in the kitchen.

The recipe is here, if you're interested. I baked it with a friend a bit ago, and it was fun. They turned out pretty well, but I feel like a bakers' daughter such as Marinette would have adjustments to make.

Did I give Claude some of my own favorite games? Yes, yes I did.

Thanks for reading, and constructive criticism is welcomed in the comments below! The comments are my favorite part of this!

First | Previous | Saturday

#miraculous ladybug #transfer #with time #fanfic #chameleon salt #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #master fu #wayzz #tikki #quantic kids #allegra #allan #claude #ml felix #baking #cookies #miraculous tendencies #miraculous side effects

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sammyspreadyourwings · 5 years ago

Text

Harmony in my head (love in my heart)

I am a simple author, I see a soulmate AU prompt and I write it. And much to my surprise, I have an entry for Maycury week day 1, so that’s exciting. Everything will be cross-posted to AO3!

Their language is music.

Brian isn’t entirely surprised, but he reads every dissertation that he can on the Language of Soulmates and why one would be chosen over the other. Outside influences? Internal influences? Fate? The last one seems impossible and so many scholars agree that because soulmates are rarely a decade apart that it’s a combination of both, what culture is rising at the time and a common interest.

Most people have a shared spoken tongue. A few people, predominately within the deaf community, form a visual language. Brian reads about Languages because he’s never heard anyone have the language of music. Lyrics, yes, but that’s an offshoot spoken languages. No, theirs is in scales and chords and keys.

Always has been even before Brian heard his first guitar and they communicated in xylophone notes. They sort of formed a code. But then Brian fell in love with guitars and his soulmate fell in love with, he guesses, piano. Then their conversations became a continuous ebb and flow of emotions.

His tended to stay within minor keys and frequently followed a diminuendo because he didn’t want to bother his soulmate. He learned in his youth that their time zones hadn’t quite lined up, but then one day, he was hearing his soulmates music at the same time he thought of a questioning crescendo.

Brian soon learned that his soulmates music was typically a major key espressivo, but it wasn’t uncommon to hear a cacophony of notes, scattering Brian’s thoughts as effectively as nails on a chalkboard. It takes him years to realize that was the noise his soulmate made when they were anxious.

While his classmates had learned all about their soulmates, because they could get such simple things as addresses and names and favorite colors, Brian started composing songs matching his day and emotions. Occasionally, on very good songs, he would add lyrics. Excited to say everything he’s ever put into the shared music in their head to his soulmate when he meets them.

The first day he plays the Fireplace in all of her glory, varnished and sealed, he heard a crescendo in his head. Unaware that he can translate the sound of his guitar into the music of his head. He shouldn’t be surprised but then he feels a soft song swirl around his head, littered with excited sharps.

He smiles and plays more on the Fireplace, and each round is followed by a mirroring song. The excitement is palpable, and Brian can’t wait to combine their music in the real world.

At twenty-one, Brian nearly thinks Roger is his soulmate. The blond talks about hearing music in his head too, but when pressed his talks about it being very rhythmic, steady.

“Something a drummer like you would like, eh?” Brian laughs.

Roger rolls his eyes, “at least I know they can stay on time. I think they might play bass.”

“You should find them and then recruit them into our band.”

“Wouldn’t Tim get upset?” Roger raises an eyebrow.

“His vocals are better than his playing,” Brian shrugs.

It isn’t saying much. Brian hates to think it, but sometimes he wonders if Tim treats music with the same seriousness that he and Roger do. They learn that he does when he bids them a fond farewell before jumping to a band called Humpy Bong.

“Should we be offended?” Roger asks, “or take this as a new start?”

“Find that bassist of yours and we’ll see,” Brian counters.

“Well, you find your pianist.”

“I think they sing now.”

“Oh, you can hear both?” Roger tilts his head, “I think mine can hear my vocals, but I never hear theirs.”

“Maybe they just don’t sing?”

Brian pops open a beer and takes a long sip. Roger shrugs and steals his bottle. He pretends to be offended for a second before his attention is captured by a new song from his soulmate. It’s catchy, and Brian sinks into it. Closing his eyes and bobbing to it.

“I think we need to find yours mate,” Roger tilts his head.

He’s about to comment on Roger’s unusual seriousness when a wide grin splits the blond’s face, “because then you might have something else to bob on.”

“Oh, piss off.”

“And leave you lonely? What kind of friend would I be?” Roger clutches at his chest.

“A good one,” Brian grumbles.

Roger barks out a laugh and then hands the bottle back in a peace offering. Brian smiles fondly and thinks that life won’t be so bad if he has Roger at his side. Musical genius soulmate or not.

“Oh, speaking of friends, you still haven’t met my flat mate, Freddie?”

“I haven’t.”

“We’ll have lunch tomorrow,” Roger says, “stop by. Freddie’s mum gave us curry last time he stopped by.”

Brian grimaces.

“Don’t worry, most of it is vegetables,” Roger takes the bottle back, “although I really don’t understand why you’re on this kick.”

He opens his mouth. Roger sticks the bottle in it, “doesn’t mean I want the lecture.”

Brian finishes off the beer and then sticks his tongue out at Roger. The imp just keeps smiling before staring off into space with a cocked head. The smile shrinks into something delicate.

“They’re happy that I’m happy.”

“Mine’s composing.”

“Tragic.”

⭐⭐⭐

He shows up at Roger’s flat with a bottle of wine, even though it’s a casual lunch this is his first introduction and his mother’s lessons about manners scream in his head. Bring wine if nothing else. Red, because most people eat red meat so it’s a safe guess. Flowers if there’s a woman. Don’t slouch!

Brian straightens as the door opens. He had also bought flowers, even though he knows Freddie is a man. Roger is usually thrilled to have something in his flat that isn’t brown, matte, or disgusting.

Roger laughs, “this isn’t a first date, Bri.”

“Damn, I wore my good trousers too,” he laughs.

“Oh? They’ll look good on my carpet, that is?”

He tosses his hair. It’s not straightened for once since it took him so long to pick out the exact brand of wine to purchase. Tim (and doesn’t it get awkward at times when they still live together) is probably going to ask about the seven different wine catalogs on their kitchen table he borrowed from their neighbor.

“I hear I’m quite the conversation starter.”

Roger rolls his eyes, “come on then, curly boy. Woo me.”

“Have you raised your standards?”

He ducks to avoid Roger’s swat but then realizes his mistake when he ducked straight into the hand. Roger tilts his head up in victory, before strutting off to the kitchen.

“Freddie! Come here! We’re day drinking!” “On Sunday?”

His soulmate starts up with an amused etude. Brian tilts his head, wondering how badly he is causing a cacophony in his soulmate’s head.

“Absolutely scandalous.”

“What’s scandalous is you not wearing pants! We have company!”

Brian flushes when Freddie struts out into the walkway in nothing more than a silk robe and boxers. He looks away to conserve some of Freddie’s modesty before looking at him anyway. Freddie is gorgeous. His jaw pops open. Roger is stunning, but Freddie is just as stunning, if not more. Especially with how he has kohl framing his eyes.

“Oh, you didn’t tell me we had a man over,” Freddie blows him a kiss.

A flirty harmony starts in his head. Harmony? Brian frowns. Is his soulmate flirting with someone? He feels jealous for a moment, before getting distracted by Freddie strutting towards him.

“Hello.”

Brian squeaks. What does he even say? You’re gorgeous. I’m Brian. Okay. Flirting or classic. Simple. He can do this.

“I’m gorgeous,” is what comes out of his mouth.

Roger lets out a strangled noise before bursting out laughing. A loud thud tells him that Roger has fallen off his perch. Brian looks up to the sky in mortification. The etude is back, with a slightly shy tilt to it now. His is probably a dirge because he wants to die. He had one chance to not completely mess this up.

“You certainly are,” Freddie winks, “can I get your name, gorgeous?”

All he has to say is Brian.

“You’re Brian.”

Fuck.

Brian feels tears prick at the corner of his eyes. Roger is still cackling in the background.

“No, I’m Freddie.”

Freddie is just smiling at him. Staring at him in wonder, even. Brian smiles a little sheepishly.

“Want to try again?”

“Not in particular. I think I’ve made enough of a nonce out of myself.”

“Nonsense, Roger’s done that plenty for you already.”

For some reason, the embarrassment melts away as the song in his head grows gentle, entrancing. A love song. What the fuck is happening?

Brian decides that too much is happening.

He takes a deep breath and extends a hand, the one with the flowers, “I’m Brian May, and it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“It is a pleasure,” Freddie purrs.

Roger stops laughing abruptly, popping over the back of the couch, “oy! I said you can’t fuck him the first time you meet him!”

“Unfortunately, your descriptions gave me an entirely different person in my head, and therefore our deal is void!”

Brian smiles wryly. At least today will be interesting.

⭐⭐⭐

Much to Roger’s chagrin, they do end up making eyes at each other for the entire lunch, which sends the blond to the nearest pub to nurse his wounds from being ignored.

“I’m going to find someone to love me! Freddie, don’t break Brian!”

Things were awkward without their third party. Freddie turns from a charismatic personality into something Brian is more comfortable dealing with. He does much better with shy personalities and quieter people as a whole. Roger is an outlier, but he does have his calm moments.

“So, what’s your language?” Brian asks.

That’s a thing people ask strangers, right? Or was that just a secondary school thing? Ah, well, he can’t get a much worse opinion than his first introduction.

“Music,” Freddie says dreamily.

Brian blinks, “same here.” “I can't wait to meet him,” Freddie says, “he sounds quite interesting. Sad, though. Brilliant too.”

“I understand that my soulmate is going through a very… fantastic mood right now. They all sound sort of dream-like? A fantasy.”

Freddie perks up, “think you could play something of that?”

“My guitar is in my car,” Brian gestures, “I couldn’t play it on the piano to save me. I can play the piano though, just. Not like that.”

Brian hurries out to his car. Excited that hasn’t blown this badly enough that Freddie still wants to try making music with him. Roger had mentioned when he called earlier that he wants to ask Freddie to join Smile as Tim’s replacement.

He climbs up with his case. Freddie tilts his head as he examines the Old Lady.

“What is that guitar? Roger said it was homemade, but I didn’t think it was anything special.”

Brian feels offended, and tries to push it to the side, “she’s incredible.”

He plugs into one of the spare amps Roger must’ve stolen from one of their shows. Brian spends a few seconds tuning, and strumming. Freddie sits on the couch, chin on his hands, smile bright.

They nod and Brian launches into the first song that he can think of. He stumbles over the chords in unfamiliarity. The guitar responds eagerly, singing out her song. His soulmate song filters into his thoughts, but he doesn’t pay much attention to it. Freddie is putting his hand over Brian’s.

“Huh?”

“I should’ve gone to one of your shows earlier,” Freddie mumbles.

“Why is that?” Brian tilts his head.

“Because then I would’ve known that your guitar is the guitar.”

“I don’t follow?”

“My soulmate’s guitar.”

“That’s impossible, she’s the only one like this in Britain. The world probably. One of a kind.” Freddie raises an eyebrow.

Brian frowns. Thinks about the words for a moment. Then his eyes widen, “oh.”

Freddie laughs, “Roger mentioned you’re a little daft, despite your intelligence.”

Brian shrugs. Freddie is reaching out to touch his face softly.

“So, you’re my soulmate.”

“I suppose so,” Brian looks away with a flush, “er, I don’t exactly know what happens now.”

“We can kiss or continue playing or never speak to each other again,” Freddie shrugs, folding in on himself.

Brian considers his options for a second, “I want to continue playing and then kiss. I guess we could kiss first, but I want to make our music finally.”

Freddie smiles at him, for the first time since they’ve met he doesn’t cover his lips. Brian echoes the look; a happy song harmonizes in his head and he leans forward to place a light kiss on Freddie’s cheek.

“I wonder how amazing we’ll be.”

“Oh, we’re going to be fucking rock stars, darling.”

He can’t wait.

#maycury week #maycury #frian #musical thoughts au #fic #it'll be crossposted later today #but for now enjoy

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craving-horans-hug · 6 years ago

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Ben Hardy imagine - Fantasy

Request: The one idea was that Ben and the reader had been dating for a while and he asks her if she had like any fantasies (like ya know) and when she thought about it she got really embarrassed and was like no nvm (because she had been fantasising about making out with him in the Roger Taylor costume or in the Rogerina costume and thought he would think it’s weird af) and one day she was talking to her friend on the phone about it and didn’t know ben was home and he heard and surprised her.

Requests are open!! Ask away!

You were currently sitting on your bed watching “Friends” on Netflix waiting for your boyfriend Ben to come home after a long day of shooting his new movie “Bohemian Rhapsody”. This is usually what you did when Ben was gone during the days, when you don’t have work, or homework from uni you were always watching “Friends”, Ben always made fun of you for it as he couldn’t understand how you could still laugh at the show when you know exactly what each character would say. But in your defence its one of the most iconic shows ever and it never failed to make you smile, which Ben liked.

You can hear keys jiggle at the front door and then hear it open and someone walk in, you get up from the comfort of your bed and walk towards the living room. The smell of pizza fills your nose and you quicken your pace, as you turn the corner you see your handsome boyfriend of 1 and a half years walk into the kitchen and set down a box of pizza on the table.

You walk up behind Ben and wrap your arms around his torso, you feel him relax at your touch and puts his hands over yours, “Hello beautiful,” Ben says smiling, he turns around still remaining in your grip. He brings his hands to cup your cheeks and gives you a chaste kiss on your lips, he lingers his lips on yours for a second looking into your eyes before giving you another quick kiss.

“Hello handsome,” you say smiling up at him, “how was your day?” you ask as you hug him tightly.

“Better now that I’m home with you.” he mumbles in your neck, he pulls away and reaches behind to grab the pizza box that was sitting on the counter. “I got your favourite, thought we could have a night in.” he says pulling you into his side leading you to the bedroom.

“Honestly that sounds amazing, I just started to rewatch ‘Fr-”

“Friends?” he asks with a chuckle before you can finish, he knows you too well.

“Of course, what else.” you say jokingly, you get into bed opening the pizza box as Ben sheds his clothes from the day. You can’t help but watch his toned body change into more comfortable clothes.

“Wow, you brought home a meal and a snack.” you say trying not to laugh at your lame pick up line.

Ben stops mid-way putting on his shirt, “did you really just call me a snack?” he says smirking at you.

“Maybe.” you say laughing while eating you pizza, he just shakes his head and continues to put on his shirt. He climbs into bed sitting next to you and grabs a slice of pizza while putting his arm around your shoulders, you hit ‘play’ and continue watching your show cuddled up in Ben’s side.

About 2 episodes into the show you’re both cuddling, Ben has you in front of him between his legs while his arms are wrapped around you from behind. It’s the episode where Ross and Rachel are in bed talking about their fantasies and this got Ben thinking.

“Love?” Ben asks quietly in your ear, you hum in response, your focus never leaving the screen, “do you happen to have any fantasies?” he asks curiously. This caused you to pause the tv and turn to look at him, you had never discussed anything like this with Ben before. Yeah you guys had sex (quite a lot) but you had never talked about your secret kinks and other things like that, of course you had fantasies but you always thought Ben would judge you for them.

“No not really,” you lie, “do you?” you ask looking up at him.

He smirks and squeezes you a little tighter, “I’ve had a few” he says kissing just under your ear. “You’ve really never had any?” he asks rubbing your arm with his thumb. You begin to panic now, you don’t want to tell Ben about your countless thoughts of him dressed in his Roger Taylor costume banging you into next week.

So you simply shrug and just answer, “Nope.” emphasizing the ‘P’ as you press ‘play’ and nervously bite your nails. Ben knows you all to well and knows that when you bite your nails you’re either nervous or hiding something. He doesn’t want to push you so he mutters a quiet ‘okay’ and kisses the side of your head continuing to watch the show, but the conversation never leaving his mind.

The next day you were doing laundry while Ben was on set, he had another long day ahead of him so you decided to keep yourself busy. You had already been to the grocery store, taken Frankie for a walk, and even had lunch with your mother, doing laundry was the final thing on your list.

As you take the clothes out of the dryer you hear your phone ring from your bedroom, dropping the clothes in the bathroom you jog to your room so see who was calling. Y/F/N’s picture pops up and you hit ‘accept’.

“Hey Y/F/N” you say into the phone sitting on the edge of your bed.

“Y/N you’re gonna die, I just got off the phone with Lydia and she fucking trashed Ryan’s car!” Y/F/N says laughing into the phone, obviously excited to tell you about new gossip.

“No fucking way,” you say moving more onto the bed so you’re laying on your stomach, you put your phone on speaker as you scroll through Lydia’s Instagram to see that she deleted all photos of her and Ryan from her feed. The conversation goes on for about an hour, you’ve switched topics about 10 times because conversations with Y/F/N are never short. You didn’t even realize that Ben had walked in the front door, he wasn’t supposed to be home until later tonight but the director let everyone go home early. He called out your name but you didn’t hear him, as you were still talking on the phone. Ben jogs up the stairs and before he can reach for the door knob he hears you talking and he stops himself at the mention of his name.

“Hey I wanted to talk to you about something that happened last night with Ben,” you say nervously into the phone, biting your nails.

“Oh my god what happened? Did you guys break up?!” Y/F/N says frantically.

“No! We didn’t don’t worry,” you say reassuringly, “it’s just, we were watching ‘Friends’ an-”

“Not surprised.” she says sarcastically.

“ANYWAYS,” you say rolling your eyes, ”he asked me if I had any fantasies about, you know....us in the bedroom.”

“Ooooo I like where this is going, what did you tell him.” she sings excitedly.

“I said no because its way too embarrassing to talk about with him.” you say as you continue to bite your nails.

“So you do have fantasies then.” she said smugly.

“Well yeah, I’m sure everyone does.” you say matter-o-factly.

“I knew it!” Ben whispers to himself outside of the door.

“Well what is it? It can’t be that bad.” Y/F/N says, assuring you that its nothing to be embarrassed about.

“Well,” you pause, debating if you should even say it out loud. She’s your best friend, she wouldn’t judge you. Right? “He just looked so hot when I saw him on set last week dressed as Roger Taylor, like seeing him in that white leather vest and long blonde hair DID something to me Y/F/N.” you say seriously, thinking back to how incredibly sexy he looked that day.

Ben’s eyes widen as he hears what you just admitted, he never knew that - that costume had such an effect on you, he thinks back to that day on set and you were all over him, especially when you got home nearly breaking the bed that night.

“Wooooo! Y/N you little fox!” Y/F/N yells into the phone clapping her hands, obviously excited as she's never heard you express anything like that before.

“Stoooop!” you laugh into the phone burying your head into a pillow.

Ben smiles to himself and quietly walks down the stairs, grabs his keys and back out the front door without you noticing. Boy were you in for a treat tonight.

A few more hours goes by and you finished folding the laundry that you had left, you and Y/F/N got off the phone about an hour ago as she had to go to work for the night. You look at the time and begin to wonder where Ben was, he should’ve been home by now at least and you began to worry but then again he probably got stuck on set for reshoots and forgot to text you. You manage to get all the laundry done and as your putting new pillow cases on your pillows you hear the front door open and close.

“Hey babe! I’m in the bedroom!” you yell as you continue with the pillows, a few seconds later you hear the bedroom door creek open, your back facing it and you hear Ben say, “perfect.” quietly.

“What?” you say confused as you finish with the pillows, you turn around and freeze in place once you see Ben. He standing in the doorway with his arm above his head leaning against the doorframe, his other hand is resting on his hip and he is wearing his Roger Taylor costume. He’s wearing the white vest with the tassels on the sides, tight black leather pants, and wearing his long blonde wig. Your breath hitches and you don’t know what to do, or say.

“Uhhh” is all you managed to say while you looked at him shocked, your eyes scanning his toned body, bare biceps flexed, his abs peeking out from the vest.

“You like what you see there love?” he asks while smirking, taking his raised arm off the doorframe and begins to make his way towards you.

Speechless, you are speechless. All you can do is nod your head slowly, eyes never leaving his frame.

“I thought I’d surprise you, maybe show you what its like to be a groupie for the night.” he says face right in front of yours, noses almost touching as he plays with a strand of your hair. His eyes scanning your face hoping that this is exactly what you had fantasized about.

“What do you say beautiful?” he whispers, lips almost touching yours.

“o-okay” you say stuttering, you are in such a state of shock you can’t even speak properly. Obviously either Y/F/N told him what you said today or he somehow came home and heard you, but you don't even care at this point.

“Good.” Ben (or Roger ;) ) says, he closes the gap between you two and kisses you, he cradles your head between his hands slipping his tongue in your mouth instantly, you grab onto the sides of his vest and pull him closer into you. You feel his hands leave your face and they land on the back of your thighs as he picks you up and carries you to your bed, lips never leaving yours. He lays you onto the bed, hovering above you between your legs.

“So you’re in a band huh?” you say jokingly as he kisses down your neck.

Tonight you two were definitely going to break the bed.

I HOPE THIS IS WHAT YOU WANTED!!!! @barbarairene-k

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akirakurusufoollink · 7 years ago

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Pegoryu Prompt: Confession

@littlemissmellodeeThis took longer than expected, but here is the prompt you submitted to me. I hope you enjoy it!

————-

Ryuji’s heart sinks in his chest as he watches Akira drop to the floor. An angel shadow looms over Akira, grabbing him by the hair as it readies another kouha to strike a finishing blow. Captain Kidd’s electric skills will do nothing, but he has to act fast. He takes a deep breath and rushes angel with all he has, taking a bit of damage from the light attack. Ryuji’s blow knocks the massive angel out of the air, crashing it into the tile floor. He looms over it and pulls out his shot gun, pointing it to the center of the thing’s forehead. Its eyes water.

“Please spare me!” It wails in a shrill voice. It spreads its wings, they bristle and ready to take flight.

Ann runs to Akira’s side and places a hand to his back. “What do you want to do?”

Ryuji grits his teeth and looks at Akira from the corner of his eye. Akira is still on the ground, quaking in a bloody mess, unresponsive to Ann’s question. His gaze refocuses on the angel, brown eyes burning with unbridled hatred. He cocks the gun.

Ann looks back up in a panic. “Ryuji! What are you doing! This has to be una-“

Too late. A bang resounds through the room. The angel is dead with a large smoking hole through its forehead. Ryuji turns around and paces over to Akira as the shadow evaporates in a torrent of blood and black mist. He kneels down, back facing Akira. The brunet looks up, eyes barely able to open.

Ryuji looks over his shoulder. “Gimme your arms, Dude…”

Akira reaches up and places his hands on Ryuji’s shoulders. Long rips run along his red gloves, making several sections hang by mere threads off of his fingers. He can’t grip onto Ryuji at all, any exertion sends sensations of pain up his arms. He lets out a soft whimper.

Ryuji’s eyebrows knit together. He gently maneuvers back against Akira, draping his arms over his shoulders. Akira shudders and sags against Ryuji’s back. He grabs onto Akira’s legs and hefts him up onto his back. Akira’s head lulls over Ryuji’s right shoulder. Ryuji looks toward Ann, Yusuke, Morgana, and Makoto.

“Cover my ass, I’m gonna sprint.”

Everyone nods and readies their guns. Ryuji readies himself and takes off running, even with his right knee quivering and every nerve feeling like it’s on fire. He looks ahead, blowing through groups of guards, alarms blare and bullets are whizzing by them. His back and shoulders grow warm and sticky from Akira’s blood. His breaths grow shallow. Ryuji’s eyes widen, he pushes harder. He needs to move faster. Nothing else matters except getting Akira out of the palace. He would blow his knee out before letting Akira die here.

The doors to the bank are in view. One large guard blocks the way. Ryuji grits his teeth and lets out a growl as he bowls the thing over, rushing through the doorway. Morgana shoots through the door next, with Makoto in tow. Yusuke and Ann bring up the rear, spraying bullets into the horde of pursuing shadows.

The palace falls away, revealing the real Shibuya. Everyone is in their regular clothes, even Akira seems normal. The evidence of the cuts and bruises are gone, but something is wrong. His breaths are still shallow. Ryuji’s knees give out and he collapses to the ground. He gives Akira’s leg a squeeze. No response.

“Hey, this ain’t funny, Man…”

He squeezes harder. Still no response. He takes hold of Akira’s hand. It’s too cold to the touch, like there’s no longer anything inside keeping him warm. His lips are turning blue.

“No…no, no, no!” Ryuji looks up in a panic.

The rest of the group gathers around them. Their faces all pale. Yusuke approaches Ryuji and attempts to take Akira from him. Ryuji stumbles to his feet. His eyes are wild. The dark haired boy steps back in bewilderment.

“Eff off!” Ryuji stumbles on his bad leg, but wills it to hold his and Akira’s weight any way. “I know a place… just help me get to the train.”

“Kay…let’s go.” Ann goes to support Ryuji’s weaker side. The group maneuvers through the crowd, attracting strange looks from passersby.

They send the boys off on the train to Yongenjaya. They all want to go, but they could barely stuff Ryuji and Akira into the remaining space with Morgana enduring the tight squeeze inside of Akira’s book bag.

A young couple sees Ryuji’s predicament with Akira and attempt to give up their seats to them, but an older couple manages to steal them away before Ryuji even has time to react. He shoots the old bastards a scathing glare, but doesn’t have any further energy to waste being mad. Akira needs every ounce of strength he has to safely make it to the shady doctor.

As soon as the doors slide open, Ryuji shoves past everyone and bolts toward the clinic. He stumbles along the road, clipping and sometimes outright shoving past people going about their business on the narrow road. He tackles the door open, breathless and cheeks flush. Tae looks at him as if he is absolutely nuts until she sees Akira’s limp body on his back.

“Go to the examination room.”

Ryuji takes a bit too long to move, his knees quake and his mind is pulling him in too many directions. Tae’s eyes narrow as she gets up and slaps a hand against the desk.

“Move it!”

Ryuji snaps out of his stupor and hurries past the doors into the back room.

Tae sets to work immediately. She maneuvers IV hangers and various monitors around the room. She readies the examination table as Ryuji carefully eases Akira off of his back and onto the wax paper on top of the stiff table.

“Take his clothes off while I set up the transfusion.”

Ryuji hesitantly begins pulling off Akira’s uniform shirt. His vision blurs as he sees the scars from this evening’s angel attacks. They litter his body, up and down the toned planes of his abdomen and dangerously close to his heart. Ryuji’s hands don’t want to cooperate as they hover over the button of his pants. It feels like he is violating his best friend. Even in such a situation, he can’t help but linger too long. He looks out of the corner of his eye and sees Tae is about ready to turn around. Ryuji figures that it is better him than her that does this. At least that is the best justification to set his hands in motion. The button and zipper give way easy enough, revealing black boxer briefs and even more scars as he pulls Akira’s pants down his slender legs. Ryuji can hardly stand to look at them.

Tae whips around places a mask over Akira’s mouth and hurriedly sanitizes the area over his right antecubital. She does a quick blood pressure check and lets out a ghasp. As she inserts several items into Akira’s arm, Ryuji’s vision blurs then goes white. The last thing his sees is Tae’s shocked face and Akira’s feint breaths against a respirator.

He wakes up with a massive headache from, what he assumes, his head hitting the floor. His head is elevated, but his only view is of Tae’s outrageous choice of footwear. He groans as he lifts himself off of the floor by the examination table. Tae sits at the desk, scribbling down notes while keeping a watchful eye on the monitor. Ryuji winces at the pains in his knee and head as he pulls himself up to kneel by Akira. His complexion is better, but Ryuji is still unsure of his friend’s condition.

“He’s stable…I calculate that he will regain consciousness shortly.” Tae assesses Ryuji without so much as a glance.

“Thank-“

“Look, I don’t want thanks for this and though I’m curious I don’t want to know. Whatever it is though, it’s put him in no position to do it again.” She slowly pivots her chair around.

Ryuji turns to face her stern eyes. “I…yeah. He ain’t doing this again.”

Tae nods her approval and hands Ryuji two capsules.

“The hell’s this?” Ryuji stares at them, skeptical of their contents.

“The yellow is for your head and the green one is for your knee. Take them sooner rather than later. He’ll need your help to get home.” She gets up and nudges Ryuji aside so she can pull the needle out and put a tourniquet on his arm.

Ryuji turns away as Tae performs her tasks. He stares at the pills for a moment before dry swallowing them. It can’t be helped.

Akira lets out a little groan as he starts to wake up. All of the tension falls from Ryuji’s body as he turns his complete attention to Akira. Heat is welling within his chest. His heart feels like it could burst out of him at any moment and he’d be fine with it. His best friend is okay. That’s all that matters. Akira ain’t going anywhere. He’s not leaving him.

“Akira! How are you feeling? Are you okay? Jesus Christ, you had me going there for a bit!” Even with the relief, Ryuji is entirely too frazzled.

Akira drapes an arm over his eyes and smiles. “Sorry that I scared you, Ryuji…and thanks.”

“Don’t be sorry…just…” the blond takes Akira’s other hand in his. “Don’t fucken do that again…” Ryuji begins to quiver slightly. He places his forehead against the brunet’s hand. Tear drops drip from brown eyes across Akira’s pale skin.

Tae gets up and writes a prescription. She places it next to Ryuji’s hand and walks to the door. “I’m closing shop for today. Make sure he gets home safely. And no more of whatever it is that caused this.”

The door clicks closed and the room is left in an awkward silence. Akira turns his head to look at Ryuji, whose face is still buried against his hand. He’s never seen his best friend so panicked. He pushes himself up on one elbow and strokes the mess of blond hair gently with his free hand.

As soon as Ryuji feels this, he calms a bit. He can still feel that heat throughout him. Why though? When he thought Akira could die from his wounds, he totally lost it. He then remembers how he acted toward Yusuke, not wanting anyone else to touch Akira. Not wanting anyone to take him away. There’s nothing to that, right? He was just being protective of his best friend. He raises his head only to be face to face with Akira’s silver eyes. His cheeks and ears instantly flush. Shit… this isn’t just friendship any more, huh? When did this even happen? Fuck…who cares right now.

“Hey, Ryuji? You okay there?” Akira’s features fill with concern. “Your face is red…and you’re spacing out.”

Ryuji shakes his head. “Sorry, guess I’m still on an adrenaline high, eh?” He pulls back and flashes a genuine smile. That is, until he realizes that Akira is still naked. He hurriedly searches and locates the folded clothes that were under his head and shoves them at Akira.

“Your clothes, Dude. You can’t walk home like that.”

Akira flushes a little. Ryuji catches it and his own turns into a deep crimson hue. This guy is too cute. What the hell.

Akira struggles with his clothes. Apparently he’s still pretty weak.

“This is a little embarrassing, but Ryuji…” Akira holds his shirt and pants out to the blond. “Could you help me get dressed?”

Ryuji hesitates for a moment, but takes the clothes back and starts to redress Akira.The shirt goes on without much trouble. Now the pants… Ryuji carefully places each foot in a pant leg and keeps hold of the waist.

“Ehhh…I know this is gonna be kind of awk sauce.” Ryuji’s brown eyes shift back and forth.

“What do I need to do?” Akira stares up at him, equally flushed and just as awkward.

“I need you to lean on me.”

Akira nods.

Ryuji places both of the brunet’s hands on his shoulders. “Put all your weight on me.”

“Seems like I’ve been doing that all night.” Akira catches what he says too late. That sounded really weird.

Ryuji’s entire face goes red. “C’mon, Akira, how the eff can you say shit like that at a time like this?” The blond struggles to focus properly as he eases Akira to his feet, taking the brunt of the weight into his shoulders and chest.

“Just wanted to lighten the mood a little?” The words come out muffled due to the brunet’s face lulling in Ryuji’s neck.

Ryuji tugs the pants up and buttons them closed. Akira stumbles, but Ryuji quickly catches him by the waist. He’s so slender… Ryuji huffs and lets out a frustrated noise into Akira’s neck. Akira startles, but continues to cling to his best friend.

“What’s up with you? You’re acting strange-“

“Awe fuck it…”

And with that, Ryuji hefts Akira back onto the table, cups his face, and kisses him in a single smooth motion. Akira’s eyes go wide as Ryuji’s brown eyes close. He can’t take this any more. He’s too impatient to try and take time to figure this shit out or to try and read Akira’s signals. He can make amends and excuses later. He just has to do this.

Akira leans into the kiss and clings tighter to Ryuji’s shoulders. They remain this way for a few moments before they both pull back for air.

Akira brings the tips of his fingers up to feel the slight swell of his lips. “Is…is this a confession?”

Ryuji, in shock of what he just had the guts to do, drops back to his knees and buries his face in his hands.

“Because I accept.” Akira’s face still maintains a slight flush as he smiles down at Ryuji.

Ryuji’s expression shifts from incredulous to excited to elated in a matter of seconds. “You serious?”

Akira nods.

Ryuji releases a giant sigh and smiles. He turns around and pulls Akira back onto his shoulders. “Let’s get you home.”

Akira happily leans into the warm planes of Ryuji’s back. They walk to the café in silence, relishing in their own relief and these new budding feelings.

#pegoryu #i finally got one done #sorry for being so slow #akira kusuru #ryuji sakamoto #happy birthday ryuji #fanfiction #pegoryu prompts #akira x ryuji #long post

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