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mercurygguk · 4 years

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what a man gotta do? | kth

genre; established relationship au, fluff

pairing; kim taehyung x female reader

summary; what a man gotta do when his girlfriend is insanely adorable when she’s drunk and doesn’t take no for an answer?

word count; 2,488

warnings; mentions of alcohol, a tiny bit of swearing, just soft tae and oc being a cute ass couple that i really adore

a/n; saw a text quote on tumblr, my brain popped an idea. this is it. also, i know nothing about gaming, so if anything i’ve written doesn’t make sense, just ignore it lol. please love it a lot and enjoy!! ps. please tell me what you think, thanks x

There is something so oddly pleasing about having the entire apartment to oneself on a Friday evening. Taehyung has been looking forward to this evening for a week and it is finally here. An entire evening for himself with his gaming console, his friends in his headphones and a big bowl of popcorn beside him. It’s quiet in the apartment as he sets up his gaming spot, fluffing the pillows and setting them up nicely on the couch so he can sit comfortably for the next many hours of nonstop gaming with his bestest friends.

The reason for his night alone is because his girlfriend’s (you) best friend just got promoted to a higher rank in the law firm she works at. She then went on to invite all her friends out for drinks which, of course, included you. Taehyung had fought to keep in his excitement when you had told him of your plans a week ago. You had eyed him down then, noticing the small exciting smile forming on his lips as he listened to your words carefully as if he actually cared. He was just overly excited to finally be able to have a gaming night without interruptions. And it’s not that he wants to sound ungrateful or like he enjoyed that you weren’t at home. He loved spending his Friday nights cuddled up with you, hell, that was his favorite Friday nights. But he’s only a boy, really. And a boy has needs. Gaming needs.

So he walks to the kitchen with a pep in his step as the microwave finishes with a loud ping! He pours the popcorn into a bowl and heads back to the couch where his gaming spot has been set up to perfection, everything in place and ready for him to have a relaxing night of games. He sits back in the mountain of pillows, sighing in content as he places the popcorn beside him before grabbing his headset. He sets it atop of his head, checking the sound and mic. Seconds later there’s an incoming call from his group of friends.

He picks up with a grin on his face. “Hey guys!”

Seokjin gasps from the other end. “What the hell? Got a night off from the wife?”

Taehyung scoffs and rolls his eyes playfully, a small smile on his lips. “She’s out for drinks,” he explains, “best friend got promoted.”

“Em got promoted?” Jimin then asks, just now hearing about the news of his long-time crush.

A smirk appears on Taehyung’s face. “Yeah, like a week ago. She didn’t tell you?”

Jimin falls silent at his question. Taehyung wants to tell his best friend to get out of his misery and just ask the girl out. He’s a hundred percent sure she’d say yes within a heartbeat. In fact, when Em is here visiting you and Taehyung, she talks about Jimin more often than she’d ever admit.

“Just ask her out already!” Seokjin groans annoyed, causing Jimin to tell him to ‘fuck off’. Taehyung grins, having missed gaming and talking with his friends like this. He saw them a few days ago in person which was nice too, but gaming with them is just so different and fun. It’s been a long time since he has had the opportunity to game for an entire night with Seokjin and Jimin.

“Well,” Taehyung captures the attention of his two best friends, “shall we get started?”

And that’s how the next three hours pass. There’s bickering, arguing because Seokjin didn’t manage to cover for Taehyung which caused Taehyung to get killed. “Come on, hyung! You were supposed to cover for me!”

Seokjin sighs deeply on the other end, calming his temper. “You think I’m a mind reader? How was I supposed to know you’d-”

Taehyung’s phone starts vibrating in his pocket. He pulls the phone from his pocket to look at the caller-id. Your photo flashes across his screen, the wide smile on your face on a snowy day in December. A photo Taehyung snapped one day before Christmas, a day you had dragged him outside and into the snow. The first snow in Seoul in years and you had been so happy that you couldn’t stop smiling, so Taehyung saw it fit to snap a photo of you with his vintage camera which he had brought along.

“Hyung, one second,” he cuts off Seokjin’s rambling, removing his headset to answer your call.

“Hey babe,” Taehyung greets who he thinks is you. He stills, confused as Em greets him back in a rather serious, tired-sounding tone. “Oh, hey Em, did something happen?”

Em sighs deeply. “____ is drunk off her ass. Can you come get her?”

Drunk of her ass? You haven’t been drunk off your ass in months, which is why you being drunk so drunk right now doesn’t come as a shock to him. It’s been a while since you went out drinking like you’ve done tonight, so your body has gotten used to not fighting alcohol. Taehyung runs a hand through his dark black hair, removing it from his eyes.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll come by. Where you at?”

With the information from Em, he hangs up and grabs his headset to put it back on. “Hey, guys, I gotta go.”

Jimin sounds like an unsatisfied child as he whines. Taehyung can imagine the pout. “What? Why?”

“Em just called,” he tells his best friend, “____ is drunk as hell. I have to go get her.”

Jimin mutters an ‘oh’ and so does Seokjin. They tell each other goodbye before Taehyung is shutting off his gaming console and heading for the front door. He grabs a coat from the closet in the hallway, throwing it over the white t-shirt and the green unbuttoned flannel he’s wearing. He jumps into a pair of boots and grabs his keys before heading out of the apartment.

“Shit,” he swears under his breath as he steps outside, into the cold air of January. He takes long strides towards his car, getting in and turning the key in the ignition. The heat is immediately turned on before he pulls out of the parking lot, heading in the direction of the bar Em told him you’re at. “One night,” he mumbles lowly to himself as he slowly drives around the parking lot behind the bar to find an empty spot, “one freaking night.”

The bar is filled with people, some drunk and some just barely tipsy. The aura in there is happy, void of any worries these people might have on regular days. Taehyung skims the darkness of the bar, trying his best to spot you in the crowd. Soon enough his eyes zoom in on Em who’s waving at him. He glances to her right side, spotting you sitting there with your head resting on Em’s shoulder. You look like you’re passed out and Taehyung immediately finds himself worrying a bit more than he originally had. You never pass out, you just always end up being a slur who laughs a bit too much at anything you find funny in the moment.

“Hey,” Em greets Taehyung. He nods at her in a greeting as he stops in front of them, immediately squatting down to be at your level. He reaches out, brushing your hair out of your face. You look at him, eyes blank and unfocused as you take him in. Thank god, you’re not passed out, just closing your eyes for a few seconds for a short nap.

“Hi baby,” Taehyung coos, thumb brushing across your cheek. You smile sheepishly, a very soft and drunken smile. Your boyfriend has to stifle a laugh as you almost fall over as you sit up. He catches your shoulder with his warm palm, steadying you as he tries to catch your eyes with his own. “Wanna go home?”

You nod, not muttering a simple word other than a low hum as he helps you to your feet. You’re leaning against his chest, cuddling into the warmth of him as he talks to Em for a moment.

“Thanks for calling,” he tells her.

Em nods with a grin and pats your shoulder as if to say goodbye. “Get her to bed,” she smirks, “she’ll have one hell of a hangover tomorrow.”

Taehyung chuckles and nods in agreement. He bids Em and your other friends goodbye before leaving the bar with you cuddled up against his chest. You’re stumbling alongside him, finding it rather difficult to stand on your own two feet.

“Baby,” Taehyung softly calls, “could you use your legs for a second? You’re way heavier when you’re not cooperating, you know?”

You mumble in response, nuzzling your body even closer to him. “I wuv y-you,” you hum, smiling with your eyes closed as you hug him tightly. The man holding you up can’t help but laugh at you, his heart swelling twice it’s size as you drunkenly confess how you feel for him. Even though he already knew that. Good thing it’s love confessions and not some other kind of confession that slips from your drunk mind.

Taehyung struggles to get you into the passenger seat but he manages. He helps you take a sip of the water bottle Em had gotten for you at the bar. Your head falls back against the headrest of the seat, eyes still closed and lips moving on in another round of mumbles and humming. Taehyung buckles you up before moving to his own seat behind the wheel. He glances at you as he ignites the car. You’re really a sight to see right now. Completely unfazed as you sit in a weird position in the passenger seat, your head lulling from side to side because you have absolutely no control over it at the moment.

“God, you’re drunk,” Taehyung sighs deeply, “let’s get you home.”

If Taehyung thought getting you in the passenger seat was hard, then he had another thing coming. Getting you out of the passenger, however, is a completely different ordeal and then getting you inside the apartment building and into the elevator was probably more exercise than Taehyung has ever done in one day. Ugh, he really hates going to the gym.

The front door is soon unlocked and you’re back home in the warmth of your shared apartment. After the elevator ride up, it’s almost as if you’ve sobered up again. You’re walking better, still holding onto Taehyung, but walking. You’re blabbering now, talking about how you and Em had tested who could drink the most shots in 30 seconds and who could chug a beer down the fastest. Taehyung listens with a small smile, shaking his head in amusement because this is so very much unlike you. But he’s happy you had fun with your friends.

“Oh, you should’ve seen the way I chugged down those shots,” you laugh, plopping down onto the couch as Taehyung kneels down to take off your shoes. “Em could not catch me at all!”

“I’m sure you were ace, baby,” Taehyung hums, grinning now because you’re way too cute when you’re drunk. He’s not even mad that you spoiled his gaming night because you’re too drunk to get home by yourself. This is a sight he would’ve hated to miss out on.

“My head hurts though,” you mumble, frowning. Taehyung matches your frown as he glances up at you while unclasping your heels from your feet.

Once your shoes are off, he gets back up. He cups your cheek, brushing a stray eyelash off it with the pad of his thumb. “Just gonna get a makeup wipe and some pills for your headache, okay? I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

You nod, smiling up at him. He pecks your forehead quickly before heading for the bathroom. Taehyung glances back at you to see you sitting there silently, wiggling your bare feet and hugging a pillow to your chest. He chuckles as he enters the bathroom to retrieve painkillers and a makeup wipe to clean your face. A few minutes after rummaging through the cabinets and the drawers, he exits the bathroom and heads back to you. He stops in his tracks when he notices you’re gone from your spot. He skims the living room, not finding you anywhere. What he does find though is something he hasn’t seen since he was like eight years old. Right there by the dining table behind the couch, you’re currently putting up a blanket fort, a wide grin on your face.

“Baby,” Taehyung catches your attention right away, “whatcha’ doing?”

You smile, looking back at the project you’ve started. “What does it look like I’m doing? It’s a blanket fort!”

Taehyung steps closer, nodding. “I can see that.”

It doesn’t take long for you to finish setting it up before you’re grabbing pillows from the couch, throwing them inside the blanket fort. You’re way too good at this. Something tells Taehyung that you’ve made a lot of these as a child. You emerge from the fort to motion at him, beckoning him to join you. “Come on,” you insist.

Your boyfriend looks at you as if you’ve lost your mind, when really, you’re just tipsy as hell. “____, shouldn’t we just go to bed? I mean, this is-”

“Just get in the fucking blanket fort.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen as you stare back at him with hard eyes. “Alright,” he puts his hands up in surrender, painkillers in one and a makeup wipe in the other, “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

The hard stare turns into a wide, content smile and Taehyung seriously thinks he’ll get a whiplash from how fast you can switch between facial expressions. You’re already inside the blanket fort when Taehyung stands in front of the opening to it. He squats down, looking inside. It did look insanely inviting and cozy in there. You pat the spot next to you on the blanket, still smiling. Taehyung sighs as he knows you won’t give up until he’s inside your blanket fort. You really don’t take no for an answer.

“You’re lucky you’re adorable,” Taehyung shakes his head before crawling inside the fort, plopping down beside you. You lay on your side facing him with a grin. “I haven’t been in a blanket fort since I was eight.”

You laugh, reaching for his hand, intertwining your fingers. “Then we must make blanket forts more often.”

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britishassistant · 3 years

Note

Supervillain AU! I formally request the special addition of Yuu’s first kidnapping please.

Thank you for the ask, dear anon!

“Yoo-hoo, Reporter-chan? Wakey-wakey, it’ll be bad for you if you don’t get up soon~”

Yuu shakes their head groggily, the sing-songy voice not helping the pounding in their temple.

“Did someone get the number of the truck that hit me?” They mumble, blinking to try and get their eyes to focus.

“Dammit Deuce, you gave them brain damage.” A familiar, much more annoyed sounding voice said. “Their head’s gonna be all screwy and useless now, dumbass.”

“It was just a lovetap though!” A third voice, also familiar, protested.

The floor finally stopped moving in front of their eyes and Yuu realized some very important things.

One, the floor they were staring at was not the floor of the library where they last remembered being.

Two: Their arms and legs seemed to be tied tight to the arms and legs of an iron garden chair.

Three: There are many odd-looking people standing near them, all in clothes that are too coordinated not to be a uniform but too outlandish to represent a government group of some kind.

Oh Great Seven, Yuu thinks with a rising sort of hysteria. It’s finally happened.

Clowns have come to take me away for not brushing my teeth enough like Mom said when I was little.

“...Are ya sure you didn’t break ‘em?”

“...”

“Deuce.”

Yuu wonders if they should feel offended at being talked around like this.

“Enough of this nonsense!” A hand seizes Yuu’s chin and pulls their head up to face the latest speaker. An imperious-looking young man stands and walks towards the reporter, clicking his fingers. “Three of Clovers.”

A tall man in glasses hands the imperious young man what Yuu recognizes as their wallet. The shorter man glances at the contents disdainfully. “You. First and last name and age, now.”

“Y-Yuu Radcliffe, 23 years.” The reporter stutters, their initial hysteria morphing into a sinking feeling in their gut. If not the clowns, then... “Can I ask who I have the pleasure of talking to?”

“No.” The redhead holding their wallet snaps. “Current occupation and birthday?”

“Field reporter at TWST local news.” They force themselves to relax the fists their hands have balled into. “March 18th.”

Remember what Uncle Divvy always says. Stay calm, act cooperative, do or say whatever you need to to avoid injury. Any supervillains on this level trying to curry favor with or blackmail the dumb bird will have to go through Uncle Divvy first to contact him, and he’ll take care of the rest.

All Yuu needs to do is keep themselves alive until then.

They still can’t help but dread what they know is coming next.

The supervillain seems to notice their distress, and smirks cruelly. He takes his time walking forward and leaning down until he’s on the reporter’s eye level, hands resting on the back of the chair and eyes flicking over their face, almost as if he’s savoring the moment before he makes their life that much more painful.

Yuu braces themselves as he opens his mouth–!

“What is the best type of tea?”

Huh?

“Wait, what? I don’t—” Yuu asks, backpedalling as the supervillain’s face grows stormy at their lack of response. “Uuh...green tea? I guess? I mean, it’s the one I like the most, but I’m more of a coffee or hot cocoa person, so I’m not the best one to ask...”

The person holding their chin sucks in through their teeth and the annoyed familiar voice outside their periphary snickers “Oooh, busted~”

The supervillain is beginning to go as red as his hair, and the reporter can hear his teeth grinding. His hands are now gripping the back of the chair so tight Yuu would almost swear they hear the metal by their ears creak.

“Ri–Royal.” The man with glasses says.

The supervillain inhales and exhales almost violently, until what’s visible of his face under that mask is looking less flushed.

“The correct answer,” He says, voice trembling with emotion. “Was all teas at their due times. To drink green tea instead of rosehip at breakfast, or lemon tea at 8pm...the nerve of your arrogance is astounding!”

Yuu...genuinely isn’t sure how they’re supposed to respond to that. Instead they just go with, “I’m sorry, I’ve never had rosehip or lemon tea. Do you like them?”

“Do I—?!” The supervillain’s mouth works soundlessly, gradually going red again. He pushes off the chair sharply. “I—the ro—i-it’s not a matter of liking!! These are the Rules!! And the Rules must be obeyed!! Three of Clovers!”

“Yes, Royal Flush?” The glasses man asks.

“The reporter is forbidden from having any montblanc after dinner, and will take two cups of lemon tea at 8pm tonight and two cups of rosehip tomorrow at breakfast.” Royal Flush flashes them a cruel smirk. “Consider it a light punishment for your impertinence.”

Yuu blinks. Tries to make sense of what they’ve just heard.

Blinks again.

“You know if you just wanted to ask me out to dinner, I’d have taken a nice invitation or a bouquet. You didn’t need to knock me out and tie me up like this, I’m not that picky. I do have Tinder.”

Glasses guy makes a choking noise and erupts into a coughing fit.

The hand that’s been holding Yuu’s chin migrates to their shoulder for support as its owner lets out an undignified snort and gasps out something that sounds vaguely like “why wasn’t I recording, that was Magicam gold!” as he giggles. He’s a redhead too, but much more orange than his boss.

There’s a sputter of hysterical laughter that has Yuu twisting their head to see the two guys and the cat from the hydroelectric plant, both with these odd-looking metal collars around their necks, but otherwise unharmed. The talking cat is trussed up in so many ropes that it looks more like a bobblehead, also wearing a weird collar.

The third redheaded one is bracing his hands on his knees, wheezing out a litany of “holy shit, holy shit” between chortles. The dark haired one is holding the cat a confused expression, cutting off his friend’s laughter when he turns to ask, “Ace, what’s tinder?”

The momentary silence lets an odd squeaking noise be heard.

One that gradually grows in volume until it’s an outright screech coming from the supervillain in front of them. He’s so red Yuu is honestly worried about his blood pressure, pointing a shaking finger at them.

“I—YOU—YOU—OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!!!”

Yuu chokes a little at the feeling of cold metal materializing around their neck, dragging their head down with its weight. The supervillain continues screeching, refusing to even look at the reporter. “YOU—! DUNGEON! RIGHT NOW!! NO DESSERTS!! GO!!”

There’s an awkward moment as Royal Flush turns away from them, as if expecting them to get up and walk out of their own accord while his back is to them.

“...So, does that mean you want them to untie me or something, or...?” Yuu wiggles their firmly bound hands and feet for emphasis.

The supervillian makes a sound like a kettle whistling, before he barks out. “Two of Spades! Ace of Hearts! GET them OUT OF MY SIGHT until they’re WILLING to COOPERATE!!”

The dark haired young man quickly shuffles forward, grabs the back of the chair, and drags it and the poor reporter attached to it out of the room and into the corridor. The metal screeches as it moves from carpet to concrete.

“Wh—Two, no, untie them first.” The man with glasses says, despairing, appearing in the doorway. “You’ll mark up the floor otherwise.”

“Ah! Sorry, senpai!” Two looks between the cat in his arms and the knots on the chair, before shoving the cat into the arms of the redhead who answers to “Ace”. Neither of them look happy with this development.

“Fgnah! Quit squeezing, ya jerk!” The cat protests, wriggling as best it can.

“Oh? What’s that? I’m sorry, I just need to make sure that greatest, lamest supervillain in the city doesn’t escape to go setting random crap in the lair on fire again.” Ace says sweetly, grip tightening.

“Tha’s your fault, an’ you know it!” The cat wheezes out, thrashing harder.

Yuu winces. “Hey, quit hurting him. Whatever he did, he doesn’t deserve this.”

The dark haired minion barks out a laugh as he tugs the ropes away from their right wrist while his redheaded counterpart sneers at them.

“Oh really? Bet you’ll change your tune real quick once you learn it’s thanks to him you’re here in the first place.” Ace of Hearts mocks. “Dumb monster sang like a damn canary when Royal pressured him a tiiiny bit, saying it was all your fault his precious ingredient is now in the sewers.”

“Tha’s a lie!” The monster? cat blurts out too quickly for comfort. “It’s all these two morons, I swear!”

“Why you little—“

“I don’t care.” Yuu cuts in before Two of Spades can hit the animal. “I didn’t destroy that thing, but even if none of you said anything, your boss would’ve found out I was involved anyway from watching my report on it on the news. So I don’t care, just-just quit hurting him.”

There’s a tense moment as the two minions stare down at the reporter. They do their best to meet the gazes without flinching.

Then the Ace of Hearts tosses the cat into their lap as the Two of Spades sinks back down to keep working on their ankle. “Fine. Since you like it so much, you can take care of it. Just don’t expect me to cover for your ass—you still owe me for the power plant.”

“I’m sorry?” Yuu curls their free arm around the bundle of rope, fur, and yowling insults and pulls it closer to them. “Shouldn’t that be the other way round?”

“You locked me in a closet with him!” Ace hisses. “Do you know how hard it was to get out before the cops came with him freaking out and messing stuff up?!”

“Oi.” Two shoots him a dark look from where he’s finished untying the reporter’s left hand. “Like you weren’t whining about us being digested until you knocked a broom over!”

“Sh-shut up!”

“Well excuse me for trying to save your lives.” Yuu bites back, rubbing the rope marks on their wrists. “Next time I’ll just run and let the sludge monster eat your unconscious bodies.”

“It’d save us all the trouble of this shit if you did!” Ace spits, jabbing a finger at his collar. “At least then we wouldn’t be on Royal’s shit list!”

Yuu lets the piece of information they were just given marinate in their brain as they glare at him. Well, now what exactly was that supposed to mean?

“Ngh...this knot won’t come loose.” Two says from by the reporter’s left foot.

“How about now?” Replies an unfamiliar voice, as a disembodied hand pulls deftly at a loop in the rope.

“Ah!” Two of Spades brightens up as the rest of the rope falls away. “Thanks a lot—”

The disembodied hand punches him in the face.

Yuu cries out in alarm at the sight of the minion falling backwards into the Ace of Hearts, knocking him down like a bowling pin.

A pair of clawed hands are then scooping them up, extra cat and all, and the reporter finds themself looking at the unsettlingly wide smile and purple cat ears of one of the city’s top heroes, running at full speed while sharpened playing cards whizz past his face and Ace calls out behind them “Senpai! It’s him again!!”

There’s a percussive boom somewhere in the distance, and screams of how the flamingos are loose as the hero winks down at Yuu. “Seems you’re a popular one today, kitten! But let’s get you back to where you where before you were so rudely catnapped, yes?”

“Not so fast, hero!” The orange haired guy choruses from the entrance to the staircase, and—from behind them as well?

The reporter’s heart sinks as more and more versions of the minion keep popping up around them, to the point where the hero is forced to stand on the bannister of the balcony they’re on.

And based on the fact that the hero hasn’t used his invisibility? Intangibility? powers, it’s likely that he can’t use them while holding Yuu and the cat.

They’re surrounded.

“You really can’t keep your paws out of anything that’s mine, can you?” Royal Flush’s tone is clipped as he glares up at the hero.

“Hey R-kun, Three-kun!” The hero pouts, hugging Yuu closer to his chest. “I come a~ll this way to play, only to find you’ve got a nyew toy you’re already playing with without me! How mean! You guys really are cruel!!”

“We’re sorry about that.” Three of Clovers says, edging closer. “If you just hand the reporter over to Four, they’ll be put away and we can all “play” together, no distractions. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

The hero makes a deliberating noise, holding Yuu out and away from him over the drop, tilting his head this way and that.

His grin grows unsettlingly wider.

“Look, R-kun, Three-kun!” The hero calls out. “Nyo hands!”

Wait, what—

The hero’s body vanishes.

Yuu and the monster cat plummet screaming past the illogically winding staircases of the evil lair.

Yuu tries to angle their body so that the frantically crying cat will be shielded from the brunt of the fall—!

“NO!!”

There’s a sound like glass shattering, and a feeling of being enveloped in something soft, cold and buoyant. The two of them bounce a few times and land back on it more gently each time.

Yuu cracks open their eyes to see that they’re seated on a strange, red, jelly-like mass. The cat in their arms tentatively sniffs, and then lunges to take a bite out of their cushion before the reporter can stop him.

“Shtrawberry?” He says through a full mouth. “Tashtes good!”

The reporter grabs him before he can go for another bite, a little thrown by his speed now that collar isn’t weighing him down. But where did this thing come from–?

Yuu looks up.

Royal Flush is leaning dangerously far over the balcony countless flights of stairs above them, one arm outstretched down towards them.

They stare at each other for a moment.

Then clawed hands fasten around Yuu’s waist again with a cheery “Nyow wasn’t that fun?” and Royal Flush visibly tenses and begins screaming things after the escaping hero that are barely legible through his rage.

The hero deposits them both outside the TWST news station with their wallet and phone back in their pockets. He at least helps them untie the monster cat, who promptly declares he just let them protect him, and scarpers.

Of course the hero is gone too when Yuu turns back around, before they can ask him what the hell he was playing at, dropping them like that, was he insane?! If Royal Flush hadn’t interfered...

The reporter has to fight the urge to lose their lunch.

Their boss rushes out and envelopes them in a surprisingly powerful hug, the woman almost lifting the reporter off their feet as she babbles about whether or not Yuu needs a hospital after getting kidnapped by one of the seven major supervillains.

Yuuken is quick to join the embrace with a bear hug of his own. He pulls back, fingers prodding gently at Yuu’s bruised temple and declaring he’ll drive them to hospital to make sure they don’t have a concussion.

He graciously waits until they’re in the car to ask why Yuu smells so much of strawberries.

The reporter can only give a half answer, partly because they don’t want to worry him, and partly because they have another question of their own buzzing incessantly around their brain.

Why was Yuu kidnapped in the first place?

Royal Flush never even mentioned Crowley, despite all the chances he had to do so. Not even an oblique or confusing metaphor or code. Does that mean he’s ignorant of the connection between Yuu and the League?

But if that’s the case, it circles back around to the first question: why kidnap Yuu to begin with?

Somehow the reporter doubts it was to just ask their tea preferences or invite them to dinner.

Those minions referred to that monster as Royal Flush’s “precious ingredient”. Ingredient for what? Is there something that Royal Flush thinks they witnessed that’s integral to a scheme? Did they witness something and just not realize it’s significance?

Yuu’s reporter senses are screaming that there’s a deeper story to uncover here. Yuu’s common sense is screaming that investigating the dangerous plans of the supervillain they’ve just escaped from is a terrible idea.

Though he could have just...let them fall. But he didn’t. And won’t he just kidnap them again regardless?

...

This is a terrible idea.

But if Yuu’s common sense was stronger than their reporter senses, then they wouldn’t be in this city in the first place, would they?

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justanothersecretfangirl · 3 years

Text

Can't Outrun the Past (Part 8)

A/N: Okay, I am sorry this has taken so long. My hand and my brain weren't cooperating, and this isn't the most exciting chapter, and it's a bit shorter, but ish is about to hit the fan. Just give it a minute. thanks for reading 🥲

Pairing: ex!Bucky x reader

Warnings: mentions of drug use, alcohol abuse, etc. Sexual assault (if this is something you can't read, skip the italics, please. Take care of you first)

Word Count: 1582

After a near food fight at dinner time (both those super soldiers had it coming), and a night of nightmares, you wake up to the sun glaring in the window and Bruce clicking at his computer near your bed. You stretch, then sit up.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Bruce says.

“You didn’t. The sun did,” you say with a chuckle, gesturing toward the light glaring in.

“I can close the blinds?”

“Nah, I’m awake now.” He nods, then goes back to clacking on his computer. “How’s everything look, doc?”

“Very stable, Y/N. You are incredibly lucky.” He looks at you with seriousness in his eyes. “If we didn’t have Narcan, I don’t think we’d be having this conversation, Y/N. I don’t want to underemphasize how close you were to dying.” You nod, looking down at your hands. “Your meetings with Dr. Raynor will continue to be important as we move forward with your recovery.” You nod again, and Bruce goes back to typing on his keyboard. After a few minutes, he squats down next to your bed. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” you say, though you weren’t entirely convinced. Somewhere, still, in the back of your mind, you knew you’d run as soon as the Vivitrol wore off. But you didn’t say anything. Bruce nods, and starts unhooking the machine, shutting off the heart monitor and removing the pads from your chest.

It only takes a few minutes before you’re completely unhooked, your IV is out and you are sitting on the edge of your bed.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.? Please let Captain Rogers know that Y/N is ready to leave the med bay.”

“Yes, Dr. Banner.” He walks around the bed and helps you stand up, steadying you as your legs are weak and you almost fall. It feels good to be upright, though. You smile at him as Steve and Bucky walk into the med bay. Their eyes are on you, leaning into Bruce’s arm for support.

“You sure you’re strong enough?” Steve asks as he gets to your side. You just nod.

“Oh, I brought these,” Bucky says, moving to your side. He has a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt, different from the last time. He hands them to you with a smile. “I figured you might like to get out of that very attractive gown.” You chuckle and stick your tongue out at him.

You change quickly, all the men turning around to give you privacy, much easier without all the cords and wires. Then, at last, with Bucky on one side and Steve on the other, you walk out of the med bay, hopefully for the last time.

They help you walk toward the elevator, then to the main living quarters. You walk with them to the couch in the living room before sitting down, shaky. Your walk exhausted you and you lean against the back and close your eyes.

“You okay?” Bucky says, squatting down in front of you.

“Yeah. Just a little tired,” you say with a smile, not opening your eyes.

“Okay. You rest. We’ll be here when you wake up.” He stands and leans across you to place a kiss on your forehead. Before he stands back up, he whispers, “I love seeing you in my clothes.” Butterflies flutter in your stomach and you try your best to not respond. He stands up and walks away. You sigh, trying to sink further into the couch.

Sometime later, you’re not sure how long or if you even slept, you wake up to the couch next to you shifting. You open your eyes to see Sam Wilson on the opposite end of the couch.

“Good to see you up and at ‘em,” he says with a smile. You smile back. “I know we haven’t really talked much. I’ve been busy with contracts.”

“I know. It’s fine. I haven’t been much fun anyways.” You try to laugh, but it sounds more forced than you like. Sam doesn’t laugh though. He leans back against the back of the couch.

“I knew Freaky Magoo would be there for you, anyways.” You snort at his comment.

“Freaky Magoo?” you ask, humor lacing into your voice.

“He does have a staring problem. You can’t deny it.”

“You’ve got a point, though.”

“Hey!” You laugh at the deep voice behind you. You shift to peek over the couch to see Bucky leaning against the island in the kitchen. He chuckles, then goes back to filling his water bottle. You glance back over at Sam.

“What are we doing tonight, boys?” You melt into the back of the couch and close your eyes.

“Looks like you’re going to bed, Y/N,” Sam says with a chuckle.

“Nah, I’m a real party animal.” As the words leave your mouth, you wish you could bring them back, but you shake your head. “That wasn’t funny.”

“It was a little funny, in a twisted kind of way,” Sam says, and you chuckle.

“I’m nothing if not a little twisted,” you all but whisper.

“Aren’t we all?” Bucky says, flopping onto the couch between you and Sam, instantly lightening the mood. You would thank him if he didn’t keep talking. “I say we watch a movie. We used to have movie nights all the time.” The boys talked about what movie to watch, and, at some point in the conversation, Steve came in, flopping on the other couch in the main room. You barely noticed him coming in, your eyes still closed.

“Okay,” you say, your eyes still closed. “It’s been a long time since I watched a movie.” As it turns out, it would be even longer, because, as the opening scene was playing on the huge TV, you fell asleep, your head slipping onto Bucky’s shoulder.

“Hey,” you vaguely hear, someone shaking your shoulder slightly. You groan, not wanting to move. “Y/N. Let’s get you in bed.” It’s Bucky, you realize but you push his hands away, making him chuckle. “Come on Sleeping Beauty.” He stands up, and you all but flop onto the couch as he moves. “You leave me no choice,” Bucky says, laughter in his voice. You feel his large hands under your torso and legs, and he lifts you up easily. You wrap your arms around his neck instinctively, and nuzzle into the crook of his shoulder. He hums softly, and his swaying footsteps lull you back to sleep.

Lights. Bright lights blind you. Bodies sway and bump into you and you can’t make yourself care. Sweat drips from your forehead, hair, down your back. You grind up against someone behind you.

“Let’s get out of here, baby,” a deep voice whispers in your ear.

“What do I get out of it?” you yell above the pulsing bass filling the room. A chuckle rumbles through the man’s chest, vibrating against your back still smashed up against his front.

“What about this?” he says, holding a white pill in front of your face. You spin to face him. You vaguely think you should ask what it is, but you don’t care, honestly. You stick your tongue out and the man places the white pill on your tongue. You swallow it easily. He grabs your hand and pulls you along with him, out the door, and onto the back of his motorcycle. You hold onto his torso as he weaves in and out of traffic, toward the skeevy apartment complex you both call home, his 3rd floor apartment only 2 floors below your own. It takes a few minutes, but soon, calm and quiet washes over you. The world around you melts away.

After he pulls up to the apartment complex and parks his bike, you all but fall off the side of it, your already short dress hiking up, and you giggle.

“Come on, baby,” the man says, wrapping his arm around you. “Want to have some fun?” He doesn’t even wait for your answer, all but dragging you up the stairs toward his apartment. By the time you get there, your legs are feeling like jello and you can’t make yourself care about anything.

“Here,” he says, running his finger up your thigh. You bristle at the touch, but he takes that to mean anticipation. You try to push him away, but he doesn’t budge. He places a small patch on the inside of your thigh, almost to your panties.

Almost immediately, your eyes roll back in your head and the only way to describe what you feel is euphoria. Everything in the room slips away into blackness and you welcome it.

Some time later, you aren’t even sure how long, you wake up, your dress pushed up and your underwear no where to be found. The man, Marco, your dealer, lays on the ground beside you, his own pants missing. You try to move, but pain shoots through your abdomen, and you realize all at once what happened. You realize you had been raped and you weren’t even conscious enough to remember it.

“Y/N!” Bucky screams, shaking you awake. Your screams still ring through the room though you don’t realize that you are still screaming. Tears fall down your cheeks and every inch of your body is shaking. “Hey, hey, hey,” he says, pulling you into his arms, and you try to push him away, but he doesn’t move. “I got you. You’re safe now.” You scream at him and his grip falters."Let me go, please! Please!" He does as you ask and you all but fall off the bed and run into the bathroom, closing the door behind you."Y/N!" Bucky yells after you, but you press your back against the door and slide down it, sobs wracking through your body. "Y/N, open the door please?" Bucky's voice is sad at first, but he repeats himself over and over, each time sounding more and more frustrated. "Damn it, Y/N. Open the door." He slams his hand on the door, and you scream in response. After a few minutes, you hear him sigh through the door. "Please, Y/N," he all but pleads. You curl into your knees, your back still against the door. You feel the door shift and, for a moment, you think Bucky is coming through anyways. He could, easily, break the door, but it doesn't move again, and you realize he is probably leaning against the other side. You hear sobs through the door, and yours start again.

Taglist: @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @austynparksandpizza @wtfrae @soccer-100000 @studio-apartment @ginger-swag-rapunzel

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky #Bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes fic #bucky fic #Bucky Barnes x reader #bucky x reader #ex!bucky barnes #bucky barnes angst #bucky angst

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7-wonders · 3 years

Text

Here's Where She Meets Prince Charming (but she won't discover that it's him 'til Chapter 3)

Summary: Thunderstorms do not conjure good memories for Duncan. He finds a kindred spirit in you.

Well, two people sent me asks saying that they liked the Beauty and the Beast AU, and as I am a whore for validation, I wrote an idea I had a while back. Thanks, friends!

Thunderstorms are not something that Duncan Shepherd is very fond of. While many children have a fear of storms, Duncan was not one of those children. He loved to hear the tremendous crash of thunder, counting the seconds between that and the crackle of lightning across the sky to see how many miles away the storm was. For Duncan, storms meant his mother would read him stories until he fell asleep, faking that he was frightened just so she would spend time with him. As a child, Duncan actually enjoyed storms.

But that was then, and this is now.

Now, thunderstorms conjure memories of the night where his life went to hell. When the winds begin to rage and the house shakes with the force of thunder, when rain demands to be heard and lightning lights up the night, Duncan flinches with the worry that she might be waiting on the other side of the door. After all, the witch who cursed Duncan and his entire household darkened his life on a dark and stormy night. Maybe the forced transformation into a beastly creature, being trapped on the grounds of the secluded manor with a now-invisible staff, and the reminder that he will die unless he manages to fall in love with somebody, and have that somebody fall in love with him wasn’t enough for her.

Staying in one spot is making him nervous, and he wants to make sure that, on the off-chance the Enchantress does decide to come back for him, she can’t catch him by surprise. Duncan begins to walk up and down each of the halls of the manor, checking doors and windows and only slightly flinching at a particularly loud boom of thunder. It’s worth it though, for the peace of mind that this security check provides him.

It’s when Duncan reaches the main floor that all senses are on high alert. There’s music playing from somewhere, actual music. Battery-operated devices had long since died, and electronics could not be charged, which meant that the staff was eventually unable to listen to music, their one lifeline to the outside world that they had once been a part of. When that day arrived, it came as a relief to Duncan, who loathed the tunes and melodies that haunted and teased him. Now, for there to be more than the quiet humming coming from the staff, music surely meant trouble.

He begins to follow the sound down the hall, all the while keeping his eyes peeled for any sign of a glowing aura. Eventually he reaches the library, where the source of the music is coming from. However, it’s not a witch that’s set up a perfectly-planned trap and is deviously waiting for Duncan to come to her. Instead, it’s a record player. He’s not sure where the record player came from, but it’s hooked up and spinning a Fleetwood Mac vinyl. You’re on your back next to it, reading a book in front of the fire.

Duncan didn’t think that he was going to go any further into the library, but his legs have a mind of their own. It’s only when you look at him before sitting up that he now realizes he’s halfway into the room.

“Hi,” you say awkwardly, turning the volume down on the record player. “I can leave, if you’re wanting to use the library.”

“No!” Duncan realizes that sounded a little forceful, so he clears his throat and tries it again. “No, you’re fine. I just...heard music playing, and it’s been so long since we had music here that I was trying to find the source. Where did you get the record player from?”

“I was bored and looking through closets, and I found this and a bunch of records.”

“And out of all of the records you found, you had to pick Fleetwood Mac?”

“Hey, don’t talk shit about Stevie Nicks.”

You throw your head back in a laugh, and Duncan thinks that he might actually smile. The beginnings of a rare smile are thwarted, however, when an unexpected clap of thunder makes goosebumps rise on his arms. Of course, you notice the grimace on his face.

“You don’t like storms?”

Duncan looks into the fire, not used to somebody looking at him for any amount of time. “Not really, no. Bad experience in the past.”

You nod in understanding, and Duncan believes this is the end of the conversation. Surprisingly, it’s not. “My dad would always tell me that storms weren’t meant to be weathered alone. We would spend thunderstorms together, playing games or watching movies, sometimes even just sitting together, and suddenly, the storms wouldn’t be so bad.”

Duncan hums in acknowledgement, not quite sure what you’re getting at. You sigh, rolling your eyes.

“Come and sit with me,” you clarify.

“Oh.” Out of all the things that Duncan had been expecting from you, this was not that. It takes a minute for his brain to cooperate, but he does finally sit down on the couch. It’s not exactly “sitting with you,” but you won’t argue with this. “Is...is this okay?”

“I’m the one that invited you in here, aren’t I?”

“You did.” A long time ago, he would have never been so shy and unsure of himself. If Duncan then were to meet the man beast that he had become, he definitely wouldn’t recognize himself.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You just did.”

“An actual question, smartass, not just permission to ask a question.”

Duncan smirks, but nods. “Why did you save me? That night where I tried to run away, you could have just let me die. That would have solved a number of your problems, but you didn’t let me die. Why?”

How was Duncan supposed to answer this question without sounding like even more of a creep? After all, he couldn’t exactly say that he saved you because you were his last chance to even potentially break the curse and save his life. Even then, he knew that this wasn’t the full answer. Truthfully, he saved you because, for some reason, he couldn’t bear the thought of you dying. It was a split-second decision, and one that had a multitude of reasons behind it.

In the end, he settles for the very beginning of the truth.

“You selflessly gave up your freedom so your friend could have his. I couldn’t let that sacrifice go to waste.” You don’t look extremely satisfied with that answer, but it’s good enough that you don’t ask for further elaboration. “What about you? Why did you give up your freedom for Jim’s?”

You raise your eyebrow. “We’re playing 20 Questions now, are we?” With a sigh, you stand up. “I’m gonna need some alcohol for this.”

Duncan has not enjoyed himself like this in a very long time. He’s had so much fun learning about you, from the mundane like your favorite color, to the introspective like if aliens really do exist. Likewise, he’s found himself opening up to you as well. 20 questions had turned into 40, which turned into so many that he’s lost count. With each question you took a sip of wine, leading to personal space becoming nonexistent and your body becoming boneless, that is, you were now lying right up against him and giggling. You aren’t drunk, but you’re definitely tipsy, and the wine has given you a warmth in your veins that heats you up against him.

Most importantly, and something that Duncan won’t note until later that night when he’s alone and missing your warmth, is that the storm hasn’t bothered him since he started talking with you.

“You’re tired,” Duncan states, looking at the way your blinks last longer and longer.

“A little, but ‘m okay. Besides, we’re talking.”

“You should go to bed.” His hand pauses at the last second, and he jarringly realizes that he was about to stroke your hair.

You nod, clumsily sitting up and trying to get your bearings after dozing. Duncan stands with you, beginning to walk with you to your room. “What are you doing?”

“Wanted to make sure that you weren’t going to decide the floor makes a good bed.”

You chuckle. “Y’know, you try to act like you’re a scary guy, but you’re not. You’re actually really thoughtful.”

“I’m not, but thank you.”

“Sure, we’ll go with that.” Now, he almost regrets walking you to your room, the door of which you’ve now reached. He stands a respectable distance away, ready to slip off back to his wing and wallow in solitude for the night. “I want to ask you one more question.”

“And what question is that?”

“What’s your first name? Nobody ever says it.”

He could choose to ignore your question, or tell you that that’s something he likes to keep private. He doesn’t feel like he deserves a first name anymore. First names are for people who aren’t monstrous beings cursed by a vengeful witch. But you’re looking at him with a waiting smile, and you’ve both shared so much tonight.

You think this question is a lost cause as the silence continues to stretch on. As you start to turn the doorknob open, ready to mumble apologies, he speaks.

“My name is Duncan.”

You turn around, grinning, and for the second time tonight, the warmth with which you look at him almost takes his breath away. “Goodnight, Duncan.”

Duncan wishes you goodnight as well, waiting until the door shuts before finally going back to his wing. In the empty study that he used to use, the enchanted rose, which wilts more and more each day and continues to lose petals, glows with a long-forgotten hope.

#duncan shepherd #duncan shepherd imagine #duncan shepherd x you #duncan shepherd fanfiction #duncan shepherd x reader #beauty and the beast au #hoc #hoc imagine #house of cards

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nightshadedawn · 3 years

Text

Writing prompts!!

Select one of the prompts and a ship and I'll write 300 words for it! I'll keep this open for a week!

Prompts are broken up into categories and further numbered within those categories to help everyone quickly find prompts, so please either give me the category and number of prompt or the prompt itself.

Fuck

"Fuck you." "You know what, [name], I've been trying but you haven't been cooperating." "What."

"I don't hate you." "You bought an entire fucking island to avoid me so we wouldn't be roommates our second year of college." "It obviously didn't work out well because we still ended up in Art History together."

"I'm fucked, I'm screwed. I'm gonna faaaaiillll."

"Well, fuck me and leave me to bleed."

"You're crazy." "Yeah, I'm fucking insane!"

"I have fucking questions!"

"You sir- are fucking hilarious."

"I love you but you're a fucking idiot."

"Love- fuck off."

"I'm cute as all fuck, but I'm an asshole if you piss me off."

"Insomnia's a real fucker, you know?"

"Fuck it- just- breathe! Breathe, damnit!"

"You and your bisexual ass can get the fuck out of here."

"Let's fuck the world over, 'cause that's all we're good for."

"Fuck it. We're not done yet."

"Occasionally I tell people to go fuck themselves just to mess with their puny lives."

"I didn't want anyone else. Fuck it, I just wanted YOU."

"You're a fucking bisexual disaster. Don't at me, brah."

"I'm just a sad, mostly human being that doesn't know what they're doing with their life." "Only mostly?" "Granny honestly got it on so who knows what the fuck Mom is."

"I don't mind if you call me a freak, just don't say it to my face. That's really rather rude." "You're a fucking idiot." "Yes, I've been told."

"I'm DONE! I'm done acting happy, I'm done pretending to be okay, I'm DONE playing this game. I am so. Fucking. DONE. With shits like you! Don't ever come near me again."

"The only reason I kept fighting was because of the people I cared about! And you took them all away from me! I'm not done fighting yet! I'm not done fucking fighting until your body is rotting in the fucking ground!"

"Giving a fuck what other people think about you is like giving them control of your life."

"Please don't pretend to give a fuck about me. I know better now."

"They said I can't." "Well, fuck 'em." "What?" "You're not weak. It's your life. Fuck 'em. Do what you want."

"I trust you about as far as I can throw you. Which is to say I don't. I can't. I'm weak as all fuck."

"I'm as cute as a cucumber. Wait, fuck, that's a kiwi."

Shit

"When you're a sarcastic piece of shit but people keep falling in love with you anyway."

"My sister is a huge piece of shit." "Awe, that's not nice. What'd the shit ever do to you?"

"Shit aside, this isn't the worst plan put into motion."

"Literally no one cares about that shit."

"I'm not a bitch, I'm an asshole. Guys still want to screw me even if all I spew is shit."

"Congratulations! You're in deep shit."

"You've shown great aptitude for bullshitting."

"Shit... I don't... I don't know why I'm crying... Just please don't leave me alone..." "Never."

"I'm one of those people that people regularly tell me not to do stupid shit and I do it anyway."

"I've lived my life watching through windows. I'm ready to go break shit now."

"I promise, I'm okay."

"You expect me to believe that bullshit!?"

"I'm just getting a little tired of having to deal with this shit!"

"Hey, I'm kinda feeling like shit tonight. You think you could... come cuddle me?"

"I don't see myself as someone who breaks promises, spills secrets, or tells lies. I'm not a great person like that statement would suggest. I just don't talk to people enough, and when I do, I don't give enough of a shit to care."

Asshole

"'Cause sometimes, people are just assholes no one else cares about."

"It was an accident! I didn't mean to-" "Now why don't I believe you?" "Because I'm an arrogant prick and an asshole." "At least you're aware of your short comings."

"No, I'm not getting high off lemonade. What are you drinking, bitch?"

"If you're not sucking cock for the fun of it, I don't know what you're doing with your life."

"Ten out of ten. Would bang again." "Please stop." "Love you, babe."

Forget

"I haven't quite forgiven you for that." "No, I don't expect you did."

"The most unforgettable stories are also the most unbelievable, don't you know?"

"I don't need you to hold me like it's okay to forget. I need you to hold me like it's okay to remember, to hold on, and then to let go."

"Sometimes people forget... I'm not normal."

"The world is a wonderful, beautiful, amazing place. That's why it doesn't matter if in thirty years, no one remembers us."

"I want you to remember what it felt like to fight against me."

"Do you remember what it was like when we were young and alright?"

"Do you remember what I promised? That we'd always be together. I don't break promises. Not to anyone, but never to you. As long as you'll have me, I'll be right here. So please, let me stay."

"I want you to remember this feeling; it will follow you all your life."

"Why don't you remember ANYTHING I said!?"

Pain

"Don't you ever wish we could ever be something different? Like, I don't know. Something less hellish?" "I don't know. Sometimes I welcome the pain."

"I just get so restless, and I can't stop moving, and when I have to sit down and focus... it's really hard because I just want to be up. It's genuinely painful when it strikes in the middle of class or something."

"Pain is what made me human."

"You don't understand all the pain we went through to get where we are now."

"I will break, I will burn, but I will not let you hurt me."

"Listen to me and this broken heart of mine."

"It's not your fault you've been hurt before."

"I don't enjoy hurting people." "Could'a fooled me."

"Does it hurt?" "Always."

“It’s not me you have to worry about killing you if you hurt our daughter, it’s my wife.” “Oh, honey, you know me so well.”

"I knew from the beginning I'd never be able to hurt you."

"I shouldn't care. Caring only hurts."

"Sometimes when people get hurt, they shut themselves away. They push away people and the things that hurt them. But I think it's more interesting when they fight back. Revenge is a bitter tale, but it's a more interesting story told."

"I don't want to fall in love. Falling means you get hurt. I want to grow. I want to grow to love someone, see them at their smallest and grow into their mightiest. I want to grow to love, because when something grows, it never stops growing."

"My head feels heavy and my heart just hurts."

"Don't stress the small stuff. It only makes your brain hurt."

"In the end, we were made of blood that could be spilt and bones that could be broken."

"'Broken,' he'd promised. And 'broken' he'd become."

Death

"I have been scared of many things. Surprisingly, my death has never been one of them."

"They're both very strong willed, bull headed, "death to all those who defy me" kind of people."

"Even the bravest close their eyes when facing Death."

"Death seems like the best option right now." "No. No, it does not."

"Touch my phone and you accept Death as your new best friend."

"You tend to just find death everywhere you go. Isn't that a problem?"

"Death is not a good look on you, honey."

"I've got about a hundred years worth of death on my hands and isn't that great?"

"Death comes to all those who wait for it."

"Murder, death, and mayhem are my favorite things to write about."

"You are an angel of death by association. This is your duty."

"I hope you've got some kind of special armor under that dress, 'cause with the way you're surrounded, if you don't, you're gonna die."

"We're gonna die." "That's the plan."

"How many times must she die before you're satisfied?!"

"This time, I'm not letting you die for me."

"Someone's gonna die tonight, but it ain't gonna be me."

"Fine. I'll let you die. I'll just have to bring you back to life."

"But why'd you have to die?"

"If I die, it's officially Your Fault."

"Welp. time to die again,"

"No! No! You don't get to die! You don't get to die and leave me alone!"

"Don't ask me that! Don't do that!" "Why?" "Because everyone knows that when you talk about the future right before a big battle, you're gonna die!"

"When it comes down to it, I want you to make sure I die."

"How did you save them?" "Easy- I died."

"I would live and die for you, but I'd never kill."

"We are not gods. But I shall die like one anyway."

"There was a time when I swear I was just waiting to die."

"I'd rather destroy myself than let her die for me."

"The truth is- I'm just tired of watching you die."

"I've died so many times, and I'm still falling for you."

"I am so done with children." "You have nine." "And I would die for each and every one of them."

"It's a miracle in itself that you haven't died yet."

"The explosion killed thousands. How are you alive?"

"You bother me." "I can't imagine why." "Surely it has nothing to do with the fact you've killed hundreds of people including my family. That couldn't possibly be it."

"I trust you, but the question is, do you trust me?" "I trust you not to get yourself killed." "I think you might be asking a little too much."

"How are you going to tell your sister you killed her best friend?" "I'm not." "That's no way to start a relationship."

"You are legit trying to kill me." "Oh darling, if I really wanted to kill you, I wouldn't be trying. You'd be dead already."

"I'm pretty sure I killed someone. But then again, I could be wrong."

"I'm going to kill someone." "Oh dear god, please be me."

"Ohhhhh, my sister's gonna kill me for this one."

"One time my sister tried to tell me I wasn't right. Valid, I wasn't. But I still tried to kill her anyway."

"Do what you will. But don't come crying to me if it kills you."

"Oh god, just kill me now." "As you wish."

"The next time somebody tries to kill, me, I'm gonna scream." "I should hope so?"

"This child threatened to kill me." "She threatened to burn the entire city to the ground. I don't see what your point is."

"We are all dead and it’s your fault!"

"Oh look. The sun is shining, nobody is dead- today's gonna be a good day."

"I swore I wouldn't do it again. But here I am. Wishing all of them dead."

"I guess being dead wasn't good enough for you. You wanted to erase me from history too."

"Who even knows if we'll be alive tomorrow?"

"What story did they tell you?" "That'd I'd never make it out alive."

"And if I refuse?" "Well, *chuckle* don't suppose you'll get out of this alive."

"You just need to survive."

"The world is a cruel, unfair place. But it's the one we live in, so we gotta do what we can to survive."

"You've done your best to destroy me, but I survived all along."

"I survive because there is nothing else I could do."

"The world didn't want me. But I survived anyway."

"I think I'm more surprised that you're telling me this than the fact that you survived it."

"We exist in this time and place. This isn't the end."

"You hide it in the corners of your mind like it doesn't exist."

"Once upon a time, there was a girl. A regular, ordinary type of girl. The kind of girl... that no longer exists."

"In any other world, we would not exist."

"Hell exists in ways you don't expect it to."

"I exist in your eyes, but not in your life."

"You weren't supposed to exist."

"I suppose that magic exists. In some way or another."

"Time is inconsequential. Unreal. It doesn't exist. All that exists is the here and now."

"The world only exists the way we want it to."

"The world need not know you exist. More importantly, the world need not know you exist as you do."

"Who's dying this time?"

"I've existed long enough to know this is a very bad idea."

"We only sort of exis

"There's something beautiful in the way you look at the world like nothing else exists."

"We exist to be tempered into impossible weapons."

"I am aware of worlds and things that should not exist."

"The difference you have to learn about the past and future is that the future gives us a reason to keep living... the past only exists to hold us back."

"You are the bane of my existence." "I'm the bane of existence in general."

"How many times have I thought about dying? Too many."

My entire life you've made me cry. All you're doing now is making me cry again.

"My room's a mess. Kinda like my life. But nobody's complaining about that."

"My life was wonderful. But it was better without you in it."

When life gives ya lemons, we find someone who has vodka and makes martinis.

"She's living her life in monochrome."

"There are some things in life that just get you down. And then there's her."

"I've been wrong all my life. This is just another instance, isn't it?

"Home is not a place. It's a feeling. Feeling of contentment, life, respect, safety. That is home."

"I live off of two things: spite and validation. I live to spite those who say I can't, but I need validation from those who say I can."

"Please don't live for tomorrow. Live for today."

"My favorite kind of people are the ones who live for themselves, and not for anyone else."

I knew we'd live forever.

"There's not enough time on Earth to see everything. We could go back a billion years and live every moment up to now, and even then we wouldn't see everything." "Nah. But with you, I'd like to try. I feel like I could do anything with you by my side."

#persona 5 #pegoryuann #pegoryu #shuann #yutaba #sk8 the infinity #matchablossom #renga #bnha #bakudeku #kirikami #iidachako #todomomo #if you have questions about another show or ship send me an ask because I honestly am terrible at tagging and i might still be into it #haikyuu!!#kagehina #asanoya #daisuga #honestly most haikyuu ships i just don't know most of their names

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ifonlyweknewwhatiwasdoing · 3 years

Note

For the two-part drabble game, how about 6 - In bed at 2am, blissfully drowsy, and 28 - “If I kissed you right now, what would you do?” :)

Hi Friend!

Thank you for the ask!

It turns out drabble isn't in my vocabulary so this went sideways faster than one footed duck (who are surprisingly bad at balancing for birds) and ended up over 2.5k. So enjoy the ficlet? The oneshot? I don't know what acceptable lengths are.

Also this is super duper NSFW so you've all been warned.

They’d won. They’d actually won.

The thought sent a jolt of excitement through Anakin as he made his way to his quarters for the first time in months.

The treaty had been signed and the last of the deployed troops were being recalled. Sure, there was still a lot of mediation to do, the clones right’s bill to get passed through the senate, and probably what would amount to a lifetime of therapy to begin but this was it.

The war was over.

Anakin spent the last three hours trying to outdrink Rex, which had been a mistake because the man had drunk the equivalent of paint thinner for the last five years and Anakin was a lightweight, and the next two sobering up as much as he could when he realized that the war was over.

Tonight, was the night. Or morning. Time had definitely gotten away from Anakin.

He rushed towards the quarters that he shared with Obi-Wan faster, so excited that he’d almost tripped over himself at least four times. He arrived there, putting the code in wrong a few times until his fingers decided to cooperate and the door opened with a hiss. He hurried to Obi-Wan’s room, letting the doors open and stepping in and-.

He wasn’t there.

Anakin blinked and then started to look around as if his master could somehow be hiding in the closet or underneath his desk but the man was nowhere to be found. He sat down on Obi-Wan’s bed, drunk mind still kind of fuzzy as he tried to figure out where his wayward master could have gone at three in the morning. Today was the day. Wasn’t it? Had Obi-Wan changed his mind? With a stab of pain in his gut, he realized his master had probably decided to do some celebrating of his own. A different kind of celebrating than Anakin had been doing. After all, it’d been nearly four months since they’d been temple side and Obi-Wan was only human.

Anakin swallowed around the lump in his throat and laid back on the bed, letting the smell of beard oil and spiced tea fill his lungs as the lingering ghost of Obi-Wan’s force presence wrapped around him.

Tonight, wasn’t the night, he realized, his stomach hurting at the thought. It might already be too late. It was probably too late, and Anakin didn’t even know why he’d thought that it would happen anyway.

He sat up, wiping angry tears off of his face and standing unsteadily.

Fine then. If Obi-Wan wasn’t here, if he wanted to spend the night in someone else’s bed instead of seeing what was right in front of him, then Anakin wouldn’t do the disservice to the both of them by being in his when he returned.

He let the door open and shut behind him, blinking away the stinging in his eyes as he started over to his room, angrily letting the door open and stomping in, deciding that he’d sleep in his bed and then in the morning he’d put in the request to move quarters like he should have after his knighting ceremony. He was a Jedi Master now. He couldn’t continue to share quarters anyway, without it raising questions and he’d just tell Obi-Wan that. Yeah, that’s what he’d do, he’d crawl into his bed and-.

He stopped short, hand still reached out to pull back the covers.

Obi-Wan was curled up into a small ball in the middle of the bed and Anakin didn’t quite remember his master ever being that small. But he supposed it been a while since he’d seen anyone other than The Negotiator.

His auburn hair was fluffy like he’d just taken a shower and let it air dry, freckles dotting across his face from the sun he’d gotten during his month-long campaign in the Outer Rim. He was breathing deeply, His face was shoved into a pillow- Anakin’s pillow, his mind supplied- but he could still see his full lips, mouth slightly open in his sleep. Anakin pulled the blanket down a bit and looked to see his shoulders were bare, the skin lighter than his face from constantly being covered, but no less beautiful. The creamy white skin was still decorated with light dots and a few cuts that he must have gotten while fighting Grievous.

Anakin let his hand brush across Obi-Wan’s shoulder and Obi-Wan shuttered slightly in his sleep, body unconsciously moving towards Anakin.

All of Anakin’s anger had immediately been zapped from him, the tension falling from his body as he looked at the beautiful man in his bed.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin whispered, kicking off his shoes and crawling up onto the bed to shake him gently. Obi-Wan shuffled a bit and then stilled again.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin said a little louder, letting his hand slip down across Obi-Wan’s clavicle.

He twitched again, eyes blinking open sleepily as he tried to get his bearings.

“Anakin,” he sighed when he saw him, letting his eyes close and opening his arms, “Mm there you are. Come lay down. It’s late.”

“You’re in my bed,” Anakin told him, trying to keep the smile out of his face.

“So I am,” Obi-Wan told him, voice giving nothing away.

“Does this mean what I think it means?” Anakin asked him, shucking off his shirt as he climbed under the sheets with Obi-Wan and wrapping an arm around his waist to pull him closer.

“I guess that depends on what you think it means,” Obi-Wan replied.

“You’re not answering my question,” Anakin told him, ducking his head so their foreheads were almost touching.

“You haven’t asked me a question I can answer,” Obi-Wan explained, “I may need a bit more context than that.”

He wanted Anakin to be specific? Anakin could be specific.

“If I kissed you right now, what would you do?” Anakin asked.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes and Anakin relaxed as he was the mirth behind his expression.

“I’m not sure,” he said, as if they were having a conversation about the weather, “I guess you’ll have to find out.”

Anakin closed the space between them, taking Obi-Wan into his arm and kissing him with everything that he had, sucking on his bottom lip and licking along the crease of his lips until he opened his mouth to Anakin’s assault.

Anakin shifted, pulling Obi-Wan on top of him, grasping at his hips as he started to grind up into his. Obi-Wan let out a loud moan, pressing his own hips to meet Anakin’s thrusts and Anakin felt dizzy with the heat that was between them, the desperation for something they’d been waiting for, for too long.

They broke apart, both panting heavily and Obi-Wan started to drag his fingertips across Anakin’s chest. Goosebumps started to break out against his skin and Obi-Wan grinned at him.

“The war is officially over today,” he told Anakin.

“It is,” Anakin agreed, still breathing heavily.

“That means I’m officially no longer your superior officer, council member,” Obi-Wan told him, and then he bent down so that his lips brushed against Anakin’s ear, “We’re officially equals.”

“Yeah?” Anakin asked him, brain fuzzy with pleasure and anticipation at his words.

“Yeah,” Obi-Wan replied, kissing down his neck and then his chest, hands roaming down the vee of his abs.

“Does this mean you can officially fuck me?” Anakin asked him, gasping as Obi-Wan sat up, hands trailing down this inside of his thighs.

“If that’s what you want,” Obi-Wan told him, blue-green eyes dark as his breath hitched.

“That’s what I want,” Anakin assured him, squirming under the man, “Please?”

“Well, how can I say no to that?” Obi-Wan mused, lifting his hips to start tugging at Anakin’s pants.

“Oh kark,” Anakin groaned as the cold air hit his cock. Obi-Wan started to pull of his own sleep pants and Anakin couldn’t help but watch, mouth going dry at the sight of him.

“If you keep looking at me like that, this isn’t going to last long,” Obi-Wan warned him.

“We’ve got the rest of our lives and if you don’t kriff me right now I’m going to die,” Anakin breathed out, moaning as Obi-Wan sat back down on his hips and leaned down to press another kiss to his mouth, this time an open-mouthed, rough kiss, teeth clashing together almost painfully.

“Then we’d better get moving,” Obi-Wan gave him a smirk, giving him a kiss before climbing off of him to spread his legs. Anakin eagerly let him, the weight of what was happening not settling in until Obi-Wan was between his spread legs, putting one of his feet against the bed and then sliding it back so that Anakin was exposed for him.

Anakin’s breath hitched and Obi-Wan looked up sharply, fingers brushing over his face.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked him softly, “I won’t be mad if you want to wait.”

“I’ve been waiting for years,” Anakin argued, “I’m just a little nervous is all.”

Obi-Wan gave him a soft smile, kissing him as he shifted to dig between the mattress and the frame, pulling out a bottle of lube.

“How did you know that was there?” Anakin asked, face heating in embarrassment.

Obi-Wan hummed noncommittedly as he popped the cap and squeezed some out on his fingers.

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin squeaked.

“You’re not as quiet as you think you are,” Obi-Wan told him as he started to circle his entrance, “And these walls aren’t that thick.”

Anakin was mortified, even as he started to pant harder when Obi-Wan slid a finger into him up to the first knuckle.

“You could hear me?” Anakin asked and then feeling as if he would die, “All of it?”

“Do you know how hard it was to stay on the right side of the door when you’re calling my name?” Obi-Wan asked him, voice thick with lust as he started thrusting one finger in and out of Anakin, “While you’re begging for me? When you come you leave the bond wide open and it’s like I’m in your body for a second, watching you shove your fingers in and out of yourself while you cry for me.”

“I didn’t know,” Anakin told him, head thrashing as Obi-Wan slides a second finger inside of him. His blood was boiling, and he felt like he’s being cooked from the inside out when Obi-Wan curled his fingers and hit his prostate straight on.

He won’t ever admit to the sound that comes out of his throat at the sensation.

“You look even more beautiful when it’s my fingers inside of you,” Obi-Wan told him huskily, “You’re flushed from your face to your cock while you squirm on my fingers.”

Anakin let out an impossibly high keen and pushed his hips back down onto Obi-Wan’s fingers harder. He feels like one point of concentrated heat and need and he almost sobbed when Obi-Wan slid a third finger into him.

“I want you; I want you, please,” Anakin mindlessly babbled. His cock was impossibly hard and Obi-Wan’s fingers felt amazing, but it wasn’t enough. He needed to be split open on Obi-Wan’s cock like he’d been dreaming of since he was his padawan. He pushed the mental image towards him, not trusting his mouth to be able to get the words out.

“Oh force,” Obi-Wan said breathlessly, “You’re so desperate for it.”

“Please,” Anakin begged, “Please.”

Obi-Wan’s fingers slid from him, and he whined at the empty feeling but then he opened his eyes at the snick of a bottle opening, watching with rapt attention as Obi-Wan started to spread the slick on his cock and then he was adding more against Anakin’s hole.

“Please,” Anakin sobbed out.

“It’s okay darling,” Obi-Wan shushed him, “I’ve got you. I promise.”

And then the head of his cock was pressed against Anakin’s hole and Anakin was taking a deep breath as Obi-Wan breached him, his body trying to resist the intrusion.

He felt as Obi-Wan pet at his hips, throwing Anakin’s bent leg over his shoulder.

“You’re doing so good dear one,” he told him, “Just relax and let me in.”

“Please, oh,” Anakin moaned, forcing his body to relax as Obi-Wan continued to press in.

It felt like forever before he was fully seated in Anakin, the pressure of being open so wide sending an ache through his spine.

“That’s it,” Obi-Wan told him, panting as he shook with the effort of staying still, “Oh you’re so tight. You’re so tight, kriff.”

Anakin waited until the ache in his spine lessened and nodded at Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan pulled his hips back slightly, pressing into him and then repeating it over and over, each time letting his cock slide out a little more until he was thrusting eagerly, pulling out until only the tip remained in Anakin and then pressing back in, in one solid motion, fucking the breath out of him.

The pain in his spine gave way to pleasure and he could feel his orgasm building in his gut, whimpers, and moans escaping his lips as Obi-Wan began to fuck him earnestly, the headboard of the bed shaking with every thrust.

“You’re so perfect,” Obi-Wan told him as he fucked him, “You’re so beautiful like this, split open on my cock. Look how good you take it.”

“Please, please, please,” Anakin babbled, his mind unable to come up with anything else as pressure started building in his balls and he desperately wrapped a hand around his cock, only for his hand to be pushed away, replaced with Obi-Wan’s calloused, tight grip. He stroked him once and then twice and Anakin was gone, letting out a wail as he came, back arching up as he painted his own stomach his cum.

His legs shook as Obi-Wan continued fucking him through the aftershocks, pressing against his over-sensitized prostate.

“I’m almost there,” Obi-Wan promised him, “You’re so good. You’re squeezing so tightly around me. Kriff, you feel so good. I’m so close- oh!”

Anakin felt Obi-Wan pulsing inside of him as he shoved into him one last time, something warm and wet splashing inside of him and filling him up.

Obi-Wan collapsed on him, panting heavily. They laid like that until Anakin started to squirm underneath of him, thighs beginning to cramp from the way Obi-Wan had him bent in half. Obi-Wan propped himself up on his elbows, pulling out and letting Anakin’s leg slip off of his shoulder before sliding into bed next to him and pulling their bodies together.

“We should probably shower,” Anakin told him sleepily.

Obi-Wan made a noncommittal noise, tucking Anakin’s head under his chin and tangling their legs together.

“Your cum is leaking out of me,” Anakin tried again and Obi-Wan’s grip tightened on him.

“Exactly how it should be,” Obi-Wan told him, “You’re mine and now you can’t forget it.”

“I’ve always been yours,” Anakin whispered into his chest, “I’ve waited for you for ten years Obi-Wan. While everyone else was out experimenting I knew exactly what I wanted.”

Obi-Wan clutched Anakin tighter to his chest, breathing out hard.

“I love you,” he whispered into Anakin’s hair.

“I love you too,” Anakin whispered into his chest.

#asks #prompt fill #obikin #i can't write a drabble for shit #it's always sits at like 2.5k #something is wrong with me

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starshine583 · 4 years

Note

could you do A for the soul mate thing with felinette?

(Sorry it took me so long to reply! I’m still trying to keep up with my schedule for the “New Girl on the Block” fic, but rest assured that I’m totally writing all of the requests for this when I can! The next one I’m going to be working on is V for Daminette. I hope you enjoy the snippet and thank you for the ask!!)

If someone had the choice between technical immortality and certain death, it should be safe to assume that that person would accept the former. Technical immortal was the only logical option, after all. No one wanted to die. And yet, people chose death everyday. In fact, they were obsessed with it, because certain death guaranteed one thing that immortality couldn’t: a soulmate.

When a person turns eighteen, their aging process freezes due to some strange magic that scientists still can’t explain. From then on, that person will remain eighteen until they find their soulmate, specifically until they touch their soulmate directly with bare skin. Once their soulmate is found, they will begin aging as usual, as if they’d never become temporarily immortal in the first place. Some people speculate that this gives the two soulmates a chance to grow old together.

Felix, personally, believed that it gave him a chance to harbor an unlimited life span free of charge. Who needs a soulmate when you can explore all of the things in the world that are normally hindered by the aging process? There were too many things that he wanted to accomplish for him to worry about something as fickle as love or relationships.

One of those things happened to be building up the fashion empire that he had inherited.

It was hard to gain the respect that he deserved at first considering his physical appearance made him seem like a child, but once people found out that he was in his late twenties, it made things much easier. Now, three years has passed since his accepting the role of acting CEO, and the company’s success rate has been steadily rising until their profits were through the roof. He’s quite proud of it, if he’s being honest.

Felix straightened the papers on his desk and set them to the side, catching the glimpse of his golden wrist watch as he did so. The little hand pointed towards one in the morning, telling him that he’d spent another late night at the office. He didn’t mind, though. These were the things that needed to be done for his company to excel.

However, he also needed sleep for the company to excel, and this seemed like a good stopping point if ever he saw one, so Felix stood from his rolling chair to begin gathering his things to leave.

“Hey, Sir, are you up there?” A voice crackled across the intercom. Felix paused his preparations to smile at it. It was the unmistakable voice of Marinette Dupain-Cheng, his personal secretary for the last two years (and his close friend for the last year and a half). They always happened to work late on the same nights, didn’t they?

He pressed the glowing red button on the intercom. “You know I am. What do you need?”

“I’m working on another piece for a fashion show. I want your input.”

Felix chuckled. How many of her pieces had he given his input on now?

“I’ll be down there in a second.”

“You’re the best!”

Felix set his stuff back on the desk and moved towards the door to his office. He hesitated briefly when he spotted his black, leather gloves on the edge of his desk- he made a point to wear them constantly, along with a number of other pieces of clothing, so he could avoid direct skin contact with others. No sense in taking any chances -but decided to leave them alone for once. Marinette should be the only other person in the office, anyway. It wouldn’t make a difference.

He took an elevator down to the second floor, where most of his top designers worked, and walked over to the desk that had its lamp turned on. He’d know which desk was hers either way- could probably find it in his sleep at this point -but it was a nice give away.

Marinette was crouched on the floor when he got there, stabbing a needle into some material that was draped across a mannequin. Her eyes were narrowed with concentration, and her tongue was poking out of her lips as it always did when she was working hard. Felix held back a snort at the endearing sight and glanced around her desk while he waited for her to notice his presence.

When she first joined his company, she was a budding fashion designer, someone who had been gaining a bit of fame for working with Gabriel Agreste, Jagged Stone, Aubrey Bourgeois, and many other note-worthy people. Apparently, she thought it was time to build a business of her own, and therefore, applied for the job as his personal secretary in an effort to gain experience on how a business should be run before actually starting anything.

The notion admittedly impressed Felix. People rarely thought to find personal experience in running a business before actually starting one. They normally just took a class and hoped that it paid off. Someone with that kind of rational thinking was someone he knew he wanted in his company, though, so he agreed to hire her, even if she would still be working independently on personal commissions.

Now that two years had passed, she would probably be leaving any minute now to become her own boss. It might be in a week, or in a few months, perhaps even a year, but he found himself dreading it no matter how long she continued to work for him. He’d grown quite accustomed to having her in his life, be it getting lunch together or going over the morning schedule or giving each other advice on their work. The quiet moments they shared made work life a little more enjoyable and made those rare nights of loneliness from refusing a soulmate a little more tolerable too.

“Oh, Felix!”

Felix’s eyes dragged back down to Marinette, who was staring up at him with wide eyes.

“When did you get down here?”

A small smile crossed his lips. “You know how it used to be one in the morning?”

Marinette tisked, picking up on his light-hearted tone. “Oh, whatever. If you don’t want to get stuck waiting then tell me when you get here. Now, come look at this and tell me what you think.”

She stood up and moved away from the mannequin, then gestured for Felix to step closer, which he gladly obliged to do. The outfit hanging on the mannequin was a dress that appeared to have several layers and a few frills. It seemed to be made out of silk on the inside, and on the inside was another material that had an antique, flower pattern. The way the materials were sown together, though, and the things she must have added to the flower pattern, didn’t give off the impression of it being old or outdated. It was a mix between old and new that created a unique combination.

“I think it looks fine.” He said after studying it.

Marinette groaned. “Fine doesn’t help me, Felix. What does it strike you as? Stunning? Charming? Old-Fashioned? I know you have more descriptive terms than ‘fine’ in that word bank brain of yours.”

Felix laughed. “Work bank brain?”

“You know what I mean.”

He does.

“Alright, Alright.” He knelt down next to the outfit again. “Might I inquire about your purpose for this garment?”

“See, there are fancy words you use all the time.” She remarked teasingly, even though she often used the same words herself. “I’m trying to create a modern Victorian type of style for my next show.”

Felix hummed. “Can I see the sketches?”

“Oh, yeah, they’re right over here.”

The pair moved back to Marinette’s desk, and she sat down in her rolling chair to slide a paper towards him. Felix leaned towards Marinette, placing his palms on the desk for balance.

“So, if you look at- oh!” Marinette had just started explaining her original thoughts for the design, when their hands brushed against each other. She drew her hand back immediately, surprise reflecting in her bluebell eyes.

“You’re not wearing any gloves.”

“Ah.” Felix drew his hands back as well. “No, I’m not. I figured they were a waste of time tonight, since it’s only us here.”

“Oh..” Marinette said. “I don’t think I’ve ever touched your bare skin before.. N-not that I’m keeping track or anything! Wow, that sounded so weird-”

Felix, being used to her ramblings by now, only chuckled. “It’s alright. I don’t think we’ve ever touched like that either.”

In fact, he knew they hadn’t, because he does keep track of who he does and doesn’t touch with his bare skin. So far, he’s managed to maintain a low count of five or so, but he supposed adding one more to the list didn’t hurt.

“Anyway, I like the way it looks. The colors combine nicely, and I can certainly see where you’re coming from with the modern, yet old-fashioned design. I’m sure people will enjoy them, especially for costume parties.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Marinette smiled. “Thanks for your help.”

“Of course. I’m actually on my way out the door, but don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything else.”

“You know I won’t.”

Felix laughed and pushed himself off of the desk to begin making his way back to the elevator. “Make sure you leave soon too.”

“Yeah, yeah, I will.. Eventually.”

Felix threw her a playful glare over his shoulder. “I’m not kidding, Dupain-Cheng. If I see bags under those eyes tomorrow, you’re going to be fired until you get a proper night’s sleep.”

“Thank goodness for make-up then.” She joked back.

Felix rolled his eyes and bid her farewell as he entered the elevator, and her soft call of “Goodnight, Boss” managed to reach him right before the doors slid closed.

The next morning began as any other morning. Felix woke up to his blaring alarm clock, forced himself out of bed, and started the brew for his morning coffee. He then dragged himself over to the bathroom to get ready for the day, starting with his hair.

The mirror provided a picture of his sluggish figure as he combed his platinum blond locks to the side. His hair didn’t seem to care to cooperate that morning though, because his cowlick was refusing to lay aside as they were told. No matter how many times he combed over it, the chaotic locks refused to budge.

Felix huffed and leaned closer to the mirror, but before he could continue furiously coming his hair, something caught his attention.

At the front of his bangs, dangling loosely to the side of his face, was a single, grey hair.

Felix frowned, moving even closer to the mirror to get a better. It was definitely a grey hair, but why on earth would he have one? People at the age of eighteen didn’t get grey hairs, and he’d never gotten one before. The only reason he could possibly get a grey hair out of the blue like this was if-

Felix froze, his eyes blowing wide. No.. no, it couldn’t be. There’s no way he found his soulmate. It was impossible. The aging process only started when he touched them directly, skin to skin, and he’d been horribly precise not to do so with anyone under any circumstances.

Well.. anyone except..

A knock came from the front door.

Although his mind was racing for answers, Felix pulled himself together enough to throw on a robe and go answer the door.

Imagine his surprise when he found none other than Marinette standing right outside.

She looked up at him, her figure tense, and a certain anxiety painted her features. He wanted to ask what she was doing there, or why she hadn’t called to tell him that she was coming, but all he could do was stare. Perhaps it was because a part of him already knew why she’d come to visit him. She was the only person he’s touched directly in the last year, the only person who could have caused his hair to change.

Slowly, Marinette held up a strand of her hair. It was hard to make out, being a single strand, but Felix didn’t need to see it know it was grey too.

They stared at each other, both floored by the discovery, but then Felix almost had to laugh. Because of course it was her. Of course the person who he had come to know and adore and yearn to be around daily would be his soulmate. He should have known that soulmates would find each other eventually, whether they had “Soulmate Magic” to guide them or not.

Before he could say anything, Marinette let out a grieved sigh and buried her face in her hands.

“Oh, Felix, I.. I’m so sorry!”

For a moment, Felix stalled, and worry started to set in. She’s sorry? Why would she be sorry?

“What do you mean?”

Marinette looked up from her hands. “I know you didn’t want to find your soulmate and start aging. I should have noticed your ungloved and been more careful, but I just wasn’t thinking, and-”

Felix blinked as she continued rambling. This girl was apologizing to him because she accidentally found out that they were soulmates. She wasn’t thinking about how much she’d wanted to find her soulmate- because he knew that she did -or that she would have gone without a soulmate for the rest of her life had she not made the discovery. No, she was thinking about him and what he had wanted, just as she always did.

“Marinette.” He said, taking her by the shoulders. “Marinette, stop.”

The ravenette paused, glancing up at him with her beautiful, concerned eyes, and he felt himself smile.

“If anyone had to be stuck as my soulmate.. I can’t express how delighted I am that it’s you.”

A wonderful blush tinted her cheeks. “R-Really? But I thought- what about being immortal?”

Felix chuckled, and he reached out to cup her cheek. “Immortality’s a small price to pay to have you.. if you’ll have me too, that is.”

Marinette exhaled, looking completely baffled, but that didn’t stop her from grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him into a kiss.

“Yes.” She breathed, a shining smile coming to her features. “Yes, of course I’ll have you.”

Felix couldn’t help grinning as well, and as he pressed another kiss to her lips, he wondered how it could have taken him so long to realize what the soulmate magic was really all about. It wasn’t a choice between immortality or death, but rather a choice between immortality and life. All of the things he’d been searching for- fame, fortune, glory -and the experiences he’d been chasing meant nothing without Marinette by his side. She was the one who made him feel truly alive, and he never wanted to live without her again.

(Send me a letter and I’ll write a thing!)

#asks #Felinette #Soulmate AUs

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justalarryblog · 3 years

Text

📝See You When I Get Home by @fournipplesau (10k) | Explicit

“What are you thinking about?” He repeats Louis’ question from earlier.

“You.” Louis’ reply comes out in a moan. It shocks Harry, and his brain scrambles for the right thing to do, the right thing to say. He doesn’t even know how to feel, or if he even heard Louis correctly.

“Me?”

📝Stillness Is The Move by @turnyourankle (2k) | Explicit

Harry fails to follow instructions and requires punishment.

📝And I know he’ll be the death of me, at least we’ll both be numb by @capturethesunset (3k) | Not Rated

Louis getting wrecked by jealous Harry.

give and take by @sky_reid (1k) | Explicit

sometimes louis just needs.

📝English help? More like Fuck me. by orphan_account (5k) | Explicit

Oh he’s much more than just a student. He’s enchanting and enticing and just pretty and Louis wants to touch. Just wants to devour him, it doesn’t fucking matter if it happens in his own classroom either.

📝When I hear your cries, praying for life. (I will be there) by @brokenbeauty (5k) | Explicit

Well, I figured we needed Larry birthday sex, soooo….. ;))))

📝hop hop hop by orphan_account (3k) | Explicit

Suddenly, Harry’s slipping down his jeans, and Louis gasps as he’s met with a very unexpected but delicious sight. A mass of fur nestles between Harry’s cheeks, matching with the pink of the inner part of his bunny ears.

Or, the one in which Harry wears bunny ears and a bunny butt plug and Louis proceeds to fuck him.

📝I’m Gonna Love You (Until You Hate me) by @sweaterpawstyles (8k) | Explicit

As if reading his mind, Louis glanced over his glasses at Harry, presumably because Harry didn’t reply to his statement earlier.

“I decided to get my glasses out again,” he chuckled, winking at Harry. “Do you like them?“

Harry felt his face heat up. No, he didn’t just like them. He fucking loved them and wanted to ride Louis and call him daddy while he wore them. But he didn’t want to just tell Louis this.

Louis wears glasses and Harry doesn’t like to be teased

📝sticks and stones may break my bones but chains and whips excite me by @moonlightlouis (4k) | Not Rated

harry’s been a naughty boy and needs to be punished and louis is there to do it

📝shit, i still love you (still see you in bed) by @Wankerville (10k) | General Audiences

Harry hums, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth, “I want daddy to fuck me in the gold booties he got me for my birthday.”

or, it’s valentine’s day and harry wants to be fucked in his gold boots

📝daddy daddy cool by @sky_reid (6k) | Explicit

harry wakes up hard.

📝Yes Daddy, I Will by @recklessandbrave (9k) | Explicit

Louis smirks, arms crossed while admiring the scene in front of him. He had Harry exactly where he wanted him; desperate while blindfolded and tied up, and he was loving it. He feels drunk off the sight of his boyfriend spread out for him, naked, hard, and needy.

Or the one where Harry distracts Louis while he works and gets the punishment he deserves, and so badly wants.

Part 1 of Pastel

📝Make Him Want to Sin by @QuickedWeen (9k) | Explicit

The stranger’s sharp gaze landed on him immediately, the eye contact shattering through Harry’s defenses. For the first time in his life, Harry had an instantaneous reaction to someone. The man stared down at him with interest, like he wanted to take Harry apart and put him back together again, piece by piece. Harry wanted that more than anything, and he wanted it right now. It took every ounce of strength he had ever possessed to not drop down to his knees instinctively.

All from one glance.

📝welcome to the mansion by @blankiehxrry (7k) | Explicit

Harry is a Playboy bunny.

📝12 Hours by @1975sam (2k) | Explicit

If two people who hated/couldn’t stand each other got stuck together in an elevator for 12 hours, what would happen?

📝A Million Years by @sunflowerstyles (3k) | Explicit

Louis always ends up feeling guilty that he’s not ready to give Harry what he wants. Harry shows him how much fun they can have while they wait together.

📝But I’ll Still Take You Home by @LoadedGunn (9k) | Explicit

“So how old does that make you?”

It takes Harry a second. “Twenty.”

Louis arches an eyebrow. No matter how morally dubious that makes him, this boy is not twenty years old. “Bullshit.”

Harry pinches his bottom lip between two long fingers. “Eighteen.”

“What is this, a missile launch?”

Harry giggles. “Seventeen.”

Or, Harry is 17 at a college party, and Louis is not Brian Kinney.

📝can i stay the night by @frappeniall (3k) | Explicit

Louis pulled away and stood up, ‘This.. This is wrong. You’re 16.’

‘17 in 6 minutes,’ Harry interjected, ‘If that helps.’

[harry has a crush on his older neighbor, louis, and stays the night at his house when he gets in trouble with the police]

📝Can’t help but touch myself by @Tita (7k) | Explicit

“I asked what these were, love.” Harry gulps. “Panties,” he explains with heated cheeks, needing more than the light touches from Louis and getting nothing. “What did you get them for? Were they to impress someone else?” He asks, and Harry shakes his head fervently, stumbling over his words as he tries to get his tongue to cooperate. “No, no,” he emphasizes, arching his back to plaster himself to Louis. “For you, always for you, Daddy.”

📝Champagne by @fanshae (2k) | Explicit

“Look at how pretty you are,” Louis murmurs, Harry’s stockinged toes curling against the floor at the praise, “Give Daddy a twirl, baby.”

📝Dance Floor Whore by @ropewithnoanchor (7k) | Explicit

Louis and Harry go to a club while on tour to blow off some steam, but Harry gets too drunk and lets another man dance up on him in front of everyone. Louis takes him back to their hotel and spends the next morning punishing Harry, making Harry work to make it up to him.

📝foreign but not different by @frappeniall (2k) | Explicit

When Harry signed the papers, he had no idea what he was getting himself into. All he knew was that he had good grades and that he was sick of his mom and sister. So he convinced his mom to let him go to school in London for a year.

[harry is a foreign exchange student who stays with the tomlinsons]

📝Give It Up To Me by @krisstylinson (8k) | Explicit

“You’re going to end up making me come with all the boys in our lounge,” he finished, his tone softening the longer he spoke.

“And?” Harry murmured, placing his palm over the crevice of Louis’ arse, keeping the plug nice and tight inside of him. “What if I wanted you to?”

Or the cliché where Louis isn’t supposed to come but he does, and that can’t go unpunished in Harry’s eyes.

📝I can feed your appetite by @dirrtylarry (5k) | Explicit

During a meal out with the other boys, Harry teases Louis to get what he wants.

📝I’m Tired Of Using Technology, I Need You Right In Front Of Me by @Phillipa19 (6k) | Explicit

Louis goes away on yet another business trip, but when he stops calling Harry to check in, Harry decides to take matters into his own hands.

OR- Louis is Harry’s sugardaddy who has gone away on business and Harry feels neglected. Louis is possessive and gets a camera installed in their bedroom so he can check up on Harry, so Harry decides to use the camera to his advantage.

📝it ain’t trickin’ if ya got it by @sarcasticfluentry (10k) | Explicit

Louis raises an eyebrow and smirks. “You have to ask nicely, Harry.”

They’ve never really played like this before, and Louis is a little out of his element but he finds that they’re both falling effortlessly into their roles (and not just because Louis is good at acting).

Harry’s too overwhelmed, though, to say anything without first gasping, “I c-can’t - god, I can’t believe you - please, Daddy, please put it inside?”

… or, 28-year-old blockbuster actor Louis Tomlinson rushes home to give his 20-year-old model boyfriend Harry a good seeing-to after a particularly provocative Instagram post and, in his excitement, alerts the entire world. Featuring daddy kink, anal beads, and feelings.

📝Just One Night by @LovelyAnon (7k) | Explicit

Louis is upset and goes to a bar to drown his worries. Harry shows up. Sex ensues. What more is there to say?

📝just one step at a time by @hickeylou, @sowearegay (10k) | Explicit

Louis is insecure and Harry has trouble sometimes.

📝just want to make love to you by @beautlouis (3k) | Explicit

Louis has a lapful of Harry before the car has even closed and maybe he should be a bit concerned about that, judging from the look in Liam’s eye, but it’s hard to worry about anything when Harry’s wriggling against him, warm and insistent.

“’m so hard,” Harry pants against his ear, “Been this way since we got off the stage, want–want you to fuck me, yeah, I want–”

*the aftermath of the xfactor performance where harry went wild

📝Mark Me Up (My Skin’s Yours to Touch) by @eyesofshinigami (2k) | Explicit

They stumble into their bedroom and Louis’ is immediately pushed onto the bed, Harry scrambling after him. Shaky hands pull down his joggers right under his arse and Harry’s tongue circles around the still tender skin, never touching it directly. Despite the heat and desperation between them, Harry’s almost reverential in his touches. “‘s for me, Lou?” he slurs between passes of his tongue. “A place that only I can see?”

Or the one where Harry gets to appreciate Louis’ new tattoo.

📝my one and own (i wanna get you alone) by @beautlouis (6k) | Explicit

Louis’ favorite thing to do is make Harry come. It’s the best feeling in the world, watching the boy he loves fall apart underneath him; to see how good it feels for Harry, in every line and movement of his body.

Louis pushes a thigh between Harry’s and grinds just enough that Harry sighs gently and ruts his hips back into Louis. Holding Harry’s waist firmly, Louis presses his lips into Harry’s ear and says, “I think I’d like to make you come.”

It isn’t as if they don’t both know that’s what tonight is—Louis making Harry come—but the verbal acknowledgment of it makes Harry moan sharply and turn his head to try to pull Louis into a kiss.

📝my youth is yours by @skarshes (6k)| Not Rated

“They shake hands and when they’re finished, Louis stands up to go shake Harry’s hand. He doesn’t understand why Harry is gawking at him until he realizes that he’s still dressed in a pair of blue lacy boyshorts. He blushes, but the response from Harry is the best, his cheeks are flushed and his eyes are wide. Louis shakes his hand and welcomes him before leaving to go finish his last part of the photoshoot. Harry is still standing there with his mouth wide open when Louis walks out.

Oh, this is going to be so much fun, Louis thinks to himself as he gets in position for the next photo set.”

Or: Louis is a model and Harry is his assistant. Cue the instant attraction, flirting, a little bit of smut, a little bit of angst, but a happy ending.

📝nominae by @pressedpeachpits (2k) | Teen And Up Audiences

Louis is Harry’s beautiful acting professor, and Harry is an awkward college freshman with a crush on said teacher. After a slip up with what name to call him, Harry finds himself in a world of embarrassment, obsession, and lots of support from his roommate Niall.

Or, the one in which Harry calls his teacher Daddy, but it isn’t as bad as he expected

📝One day to believe in you by @mediaville (7k) | Explicit

A mysterious force compels Louis to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Even when it’s really inconvenient.

Harry blinks and has the nerve to look surprised. “You think about me when you get off?”

“Yes,” Louis says. He wonders how hard he’d need to punch himself in the face to knock himself out.

“Often?”

“Yes, Christ, Harry,” Louis groans. “Probably eight times a week for going on six years now. On average, you know. More when we were touring, less when I’ve been visiting family. Anything else you’d like to know?”

📝Skipping Heartbeats by @1dfetusfics (3k) | Mature

Louis doesn’t talk much and for some reason he has a queasy feeling in his belly whenever he’s around boys now, especially around Harry.

📝so defiant, little one by orphan_account (4k)| Not Rated

Louis refuses to talk to Harry when the older man doesn’t buy him the necklace he wanted, and in return Harry teaches him to be grateful when they get home.

📝sticks and stones may break my bones but chains and whips excite me by @moonlightlouis (4k) | Not Rated

harry’s been a naughty boy and needs to be punished and louis is there to do it

📝Sweet Dreams by @dormant_bender (5k) | Explicit

When fantasies become reality.

📝Talk To Me, Baby by orphan_account (3k) | Explicit

Harry loves to talk and whisper little things to Louis during sex. Louis is pretty quiet, loves it, but just listens. But one day Harry really wants to hear Louis say some of the dirty things he loves Harry to do to him, so Harry really encourages Louis to talk to him during sex. Louis is self-conscious at first but then they really get into it and amazingness happens.

📝Thank the Hotel by orphan_account (4k) | Explicit

The hotel messed up the boys’ reservations for after their Red Nose Day performance, causing Louis and Harry to share a single bed hotel room. When Harry wakes up to Louis having a wet dream, he just can’t help himself. He’d have to remember to thank the hotel later.

📝Untitled sugardaddy fic by orphan_account (2k) | Explicit

Harry comes home from a long day at work and has his way with his baby. (That’s Louis.)

The one with all the daddy kink sex and spanking. It’s pure pwp.

📝Wake Me Up by @larrystylins (2k) | Explicit

Harry stretches and accidentally pushes his bare bum into Louis’ crotch. Oh. That’s definitely Louis’ cock. Okay that’s definitely the outline of Louis’ hard cock pressing against him. “Lou?” he whispers. Of course Louis is fast asleep..

or Harry wakes up to Louis’ morning wood pressed against his bum. Harry gets needy. Louis wakes up and punishes him.

📝You Don’t Need Me To Show The Way by@LoadedGunn (6k) | Explicit

But right there, on Harry’s iPod, is a folder entitled Lou Sappy Sappy Long Indie Hipster 80’s Love Songs Mixtape.

Louis expects a sappy mix tape. He might even expect his own shitty versions of Foo Fighter songs. What he doesn’t expect is clicking on “AUD-20101223” and suddenly hearing loud moaning. He gasps and scrambles to pause it, so shocked the iPod drops right to Harry’s stomach. Harry looks absolutely mortified, even more than he did when Louis played High School Musical. He’s blushing so furiously his face bypassed rosy straight to flaming red, and his mouth is closing and opening like he can’t think of a single thing to say.

Then Louis starts laughing uproariously. “Hiiii, I’m Harry from Cheshire, when I’m on the road I like listening to indie music and gay porn.”

Or, 2011 fic where Harry rides dick for the first time and Louis appreciates technology.

✨You can also check My Fic Tags for more fics! ✨📝

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rainbowvamp · 3 years

Text

No Body, No Crime (Mercelot)

It's 4am and some of us don't know how sleep schedules work! Here's your angst fill for Mini @mercelotweek. Sorry in advance :)

Warnings! Death of Major Characters. Merthur, but Arthur is Evil. No Happy Ending. Check AO3 for more extensive warnings.

Summary: Merlin was the love of Lancelot's life. He could stand watching him marry someone else if it meant Merlin was happy. He could not stand watching that man get away with murdering him.

Angst, Morgana&Lancelot team up that canon adherent people won't like maybe?, unrequited love, pining, one-sided Merlin/Lancelot, except I head canon that it's not

----

“Lancelot, have I ever told you that your eyes are so warm?” Merlin asked, stroking a hand over Lancelot’s cheek. Merlin is so clearly drunk, but Lancelot still feels his face warm beneath the soft touch. He knows that Merlin doesn’t, couldn’t, mean that the way he thought, not with how head over heels he was with Arthur Pendragon, but… it still made his heart skip a beat when Merlin talked about him like that.

When he doesn’t answer Merlin just keeps tracing the lines of Lancelot’s face. Lancelot knows he should stop him, when he runs his fingers over Lancelot’s softly parted lips, but he doesn’t. Let’s Merlin’s hands stroke down his neck, shoulders, and chest, so obviously taking in his muscle tone.

“You’r beefier than Arthur. Did you know that? Not by a lot, not like Percival is, but… so much muscle.” He squeezes Lancelot’s bicep, and Lancelot swallows hard.

—

“You’re beefier than Arthur. Did you know that? Not by a lot, not like Percival is, but… so much muscle.” He squeezes Lancelot’s bicep, and Lancelot swallows hard.

—

Lancelot’s been waiting for Merlin for a little over ten minutes. Merlin tends to be a bit scatter brained at the best of times, so Lancelot isn’t particularly worried, but when Merlin walks in, looking flustered, Lancelot is immediately on guard.

Merlin pulls his chair out almost violently and is just barely politely to the waiter, obviously holding back a sort of curt near-anger that Lancelot didn’t see often. He ordered a glass of wine, their usual white, and only when the waiter was gone did he finally look at Lancelot.

“What’s wrong?” Lancelot asked him, and Merlin’s blue eyes were fiery, angry in earnest now.

“The sheets smelled like perfume.” Merlin speaks through gritted teeth, and Lancelot is at a loss.

“I don’t understand.”

“The sheets. Our sheets. Smell like perfume. I don’t wear perfume, and neither does Arthur.” He glared and just barely managed to be courteous when that waiter brought him his glass. Their Tuesday dinner was a tradition, and the waiter seemed to sense something was wrong because he brought the bottle and left it on ice at the table.

It took Lancelot a few second to process that, before he finally, stupidly said, “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Merlin took a sip of his wine that was more like a gulp, but Lancelot didn’t say anything about it. “I can’t prove it. I don’t know who it is, but I just know he’s sleeping with someone else. And in our bed.” Merlin was seething, and Lancelot couldn’t blame him. He’d been pining after his dear friend for years, and if Lancelot had Merlin he’d never dream of anyone else, let alone bring them into his bed.

“You’re sure there’s no chance it’s your soap? Maybe he switched colognes?” He doesn’t believe this, but he hopes, because he loves Merlin, that Arthur wouldn’t betray him like this.

“I checked the entire bathroom. Nothing. Not the detergent, not his soap, nothing.” Merlin downed the rest of his glass in one swallow and when he reached for the bottle, Lancelot put his hand over Merlin’s.

“Maybe let’s wait until we have some food, yeah?”

Merlin glared. “My husband is cheating on me. If there’s ever been a time to get fucked up on wine, it’s today.”

“Yes, and you have every right to do that, but let’s get you fed first, so you don’t overdo it.” He guided Merlin’s hand back down the table and left his own on top of it for longer than he probably should have before releasing it. Merlin was still glaring, but Lancelot knew it wasn’t him Merlin was upset with. He’d just have to deal with it. His friend needed him.

“I’m going to catch him. I’m going to make him admit what he’s doing. The damn cad. Bloody prat. Fucking wanker.” Merlin is just muttering insults to himself now, and if the situation weren’t so tragic, Lancelot would probably have laughed at the absurdity of suck language coming from Merlin of all people.

“Is there anything I can do right now? You can stay with me tonight, if you don’t want to go back.” Lancelot offered, but before he was even finished speaking, Merlin was shaking his head.

“No, it’s fine. I need to confront him, and if anyone should leave, it should be him. I’m not the faithless one, and I won’t be chased from my own home.”

Lancelot nodded and when their food came, he didn’t protest the overfull glass of wine Merlin served himself before giving Lancelot a regular serving.

—

“Merlin, you should probably go to bed. Everyone else is asleep.”

It was Merlin’s Bachelor Party. A guys weekend away. They’d done a pub crawl in London of all places, and now they were all shacked up in a couple hotel rooms (on Arthur’s dime, so they were very nice room).

“You’re not asleep.”

“I’m also not drunk off my arse.” He smiled. After the decision had been made to call a car so Lancelot could drink, he’d had a few, but he wasn’t nearly as gone as everyone else had been. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.” And damn if he wasn’t kicking himself for phrasing it like that.

“Lancelot Du Lac, I’m engaged.” Merlin tries to feign offense, but he starts giggling too hard for it to be effective. Lancelot rolls his eyes even as his ears burn and he lifts Merlin up under one arm so that he get him off the bed long enough to pull the bed covers back and pour Merlin in.

“You used to be fun.” Merlin complained, and Lancelot laughed earnestly.

“No, I didn’t. You’ve just gotten more irresponsible.”

Merlin frowned but soon became distracted by the soft texture of the sheets. “Stay with me. I don’t like to sleep alone anymore.”

“I am staying with you. We already put Gwaine and Elyan in the other room.”

“No, I mean here.” He slapped the side of the bed beside him.

Lancelot was tempted, but ultimately shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Merlin.”

“Because you love me?”

Lancelot’s breath catches. The casual way Merlin says it almost drives Lancelot off the deep end. Years of secret keeping about to be toppled by a drunken night when Merlin was already engaged.

“You don’t have to say anything. I know you want it to be shecret. Shecret. See-cret.” He smiled when he finally managed to get his tongue to cooperate with him, then turned that beaming grin up to Lancelot. “I promise I love you too.”

“I-I- I need some air.”

He hears Merlin call after him as he leaves the room, but he ignores it. He can’t look at him, right then. He can’t see those blue eyes and those soft lips and pretend that he hasn’t just had his heart forcibly exposed. He can’t. He can’t. He can’t.

—

The next Tuesday, Merlin was nowhere to be found. He’d called, texted, done everything short of showing up at his house. When Merlin was a half hour late, too long even for Merlin’s scattered head, he got up from the table without eating, left more money than was needed to cover the water he’d been nursing, and went to look for Merlin.

He drove by Merlin’s work first, thinking maybe he’d gotten lost in a project except his car wasn’t there. He went inside, just in case.

Mithian, the very competent front desk worker that Lancelot suspected did more than work the front desk, smiled up at him.

“Lancelot! Are you looking for Merlin?” Her smile was just the tiniest bit tight.

“Yes. He’s not here, is he?” Lancelot feels his heart get heavy, suddenly. His chest is tight in a way it hasn’t been since his parent’s car wreck years ago. He swallows hard as Mithian speaks.

“No. No one’s been able to get ahold of him today. We called his husband, but he didn’t answer either.” Mithian has a distraught look on her face that even her usual calm demeanor can’t hide. It’s the same way Lancelot feels

“I’ll see if I can track him down. Thank you.”

“Let me know if you hear anything, please.”

“Yes, of course.” He nodded and left, making a mental list of places to visit.

—

“Lancelot!” Merlin scrambles out of bed far too early for someone as hung over as he must be. “I was worried. You didn’t come back. Why didn’t you come back?” Merlin looks him over like he might have managed to get into some trouble on his own for a few hours, and Lancelot shook his head.

“I needed to time to think. I’m alright. I’m sorry I worried you.”

“Sorry? Sorry? I put my foot in my mouth while drunk and your response is to apologize?” Merlin looks exasperated, and it makes one of Lancelot’s lips quirk up a bit.

“Sorry. Should I apologize for your foot instead.”

Merlin groaned and leaned his head against Lancelot’s shoulder. “You scared the shit out of me. I thought I’d fucked up our friendship.” Merlin’s hands wrapped around Lancelot’s waist in a hug, and Lancelot returned it easily.

“Nothing could ruin our friendship. Just… Please don’t ever do that again.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not, but I promise not to… be so blasé in the future.”

“Thank you.”

—

He drives by Merlin and Arthur’s house first, but their car isn’t there. He gets out and knocks on the door anyway, just in case. He has a key for emergencies, and he decides that this is an emergency. He lets himself in and goes straight to Merlin and Arthur’s bedroom.

He’s never been in here before, and the way that everything is clean and tidy feels wrong for Merlin. The Merlin Lancelot knows has always been messy, and chaotic. When they’d been roommates years ago, Merlin had never been able to keep his room any nicer than slightly unkempt, but the place is spotless. It looks wrong.

He knows he shouldn’t, but he goes through Merlin’s bedside drawer, looking for clues to where he might be. He tries not to think about the full bottle of lubricant he finds there, looks over the pads of paper, half written lists, books with dog-eared pages. This looked much more like Merlin.

As he’s sifting through pages, a half sheet, ripped along one edge, catches his eye.

Perfume

“Working Late”

Jewelry charge

Lipstick stains

5 months no sex

Lancelot shoved the list into his pocket on a whim and closed the drawer. Merlin had been talking about confronting Arthur. Maybe he had. Maybe…

Lancelot had never cared much for Arthur, but Lancelot could admit that even for Arthur, that would be too far. Lancelot leaves the house without disturbing anything else. Maybe Merlin and Arthur reconciled and went for a whirlwind trip to Fiji or something else ridiculous. Lancelot wouldn’t actually be surprised if they had. Merlin was impulsive like that and Arthur had money.

—

Arthur calls him later that night. Asks with the calmest tone that Lancelot has ever heard if Merlin had been by his place, or met him for dinner. Lancelot says no, and Arthur hangs up without even a pass at formalities.

—

Lancelot drives by Arthur and Merlin’s house. He means to stop, ask after Merlin, except…

Arthur’s car is missing. In it’s place is a sleek new white sports car. Nothing like the practical car that Merlin had insisted on.

Lancelot drives straight by, and doesn’t stop.

—

He hears from Gwaine that Arthur has a new girlfriend on a pub night of all nights. A woman who’s moving into the house with him. It’s been less than a month since Merlin disappeared, and Arthur had a new woman on his arm already? Lancelot and Gwaine had never been overly close, friends by virtue of knowing Merlin and being cared for deeply by Merlin, but even Gwaine seemed to pick up on Lancelot’s stormy mood.

“Don’t do anything stupid, mate. He’s not worth it. I know how much you cared for him.”

“Everyone cared for Merlin.” It’s a curt, snappish tone, so unlike Lancelot’s usual soft demeanor.

“Not like you did.” Gwaine takes a sip of his beer and calls the bartender back over, ending their conversation.

—

“And do you, Arthur Pendragon, Take Merlin Emrys to be your lawfully wedded husband?” Arthur’s tie is a bright red that compliments the blue of Merlin’s well. Lancelot can’t see Merlin, because he’s standing right behind him, in the position of the best man, but he can see Arthur, who looks… Well Lancelot is sure he’s in love, but if that were him, Lancelot would probably be on the verge of tears.

He reminds himself that everyone is different, and he tries not to judge Arthur on his wedding day. This is the man that makes Merlin happy, the man Merlin loves, and so Lancelot just has to accept that.

“I do.”

“And do you, Merlin Emrys, take Arthur Pendragon to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.” Merlin’s voice is a little thick, and Lancelot knows that means he’s holding back tears. Lancelot is holding back tears of his own, clenching his jaw to try and force his face to stay neutral. Over Arthur’s shoulder he catches Morgana’s eyes, and she looks at him in a way Lancelot doesn’t understand.

“Then by the power invested in me, I pronounce you married. You may kiss your groom.”

Lancelot looks away when Merlin surges forward to kiss Arthur, and Elyan, one of the other groomsmen, squeezes his shoulder. Lancelot doesn’t know if it’s sympathy or some strange gesture of happiness, but Lancelot uses it to ground himself while he waits for Arthur and Merlin to pull away from each other.

—

Lancelot sees Arthur and the woman as he’s taken to internally calling her later that night at the same pub. He’s sitting with Percival, nursing a glass of wine Merlin would’ve liked when he spots them. The woman is hanging on his arm, looking completely smitten, and Arthur looks like the cat who got the cream.

Percival caught the storm clouds in Lancelot’s eyes and followed his gaze before whispering “shit,” and rubbing his temples. “I think that’s Elyan’s sister.”

“I don’t care who she is. Arthur’s a bastard.” Lancelot grit his teeth and Percival reached across the table to put a hand on Lancelot’s elbow and hold him steady.

“Let’s not lose our heads. We can go if you want.”

Lancelot kept his gaze firmly fixed on them, still angry right down to his very core, but eventually, Percival squeezed his arm and broke his stare, making Lancelot snap out of it.

“I think that would be best.” He murmured, quiet in his rage to keep it from bursting form him.

“I’ll get the tab, go flag a cab.”

Lancelot nodded and left out the back so he wouldn’t have to walk by them.

—

“Morgana, I’m going to do something stupid.”

Morgana was in a black night dress, with her hair pulled back into a French braid, obviously getting ready for bed. “Well, hello to you too, Lancelot. What do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

“Can I come in?” He asked, not rising to the bait, and that seemed to get her attention because she simply stepped away from the door and let him in.

She walks into her small kitchen and pulls a bottle of wine from the fridge. She gestures at him with it and he shakes his head, but she still pulls a glass down for herself and fills it.

“What the problem? Does it have anything to do with a certain blonde airhead who I’d personally like to strangle?”

Lancelot tensed a bit in his chair. “Why do you want to strangle him?”

Her tone was too cool when she spoke, swirling the deep red wine in the glass in a way that was disconcerting. “He killed my brother, Lancelot. The fact I haven’t put a blade to his throat myself is only because I’ve got a child who’s very eager to come home with me. You can’t adopt with a murder charge.” Her face looks so sweet when she says it, but Lancelot can see the mirror of his own rage in her.

“You and Merlin were always quite close.”

“Closer than I ever was to Arthur. Blood only runs so deep. There’s a lot to be said for the connection of like-souls.” She smiled at took a seat at the table, made more dramatic by the flowing motion of her skirts. “So, what’s the stupid thing you’re planning on doing?”

Lancelot smiles half-heartedly. “If I tell you, you have to promise not to go to the police.”

Morgana’s smile turned evil. “Oh, do tell.”

—

They stay up half the night, and Lancelot calls himself an Uber home from hers, to establish a paper trail, as she puts it. The plan they’ve hatched is only half baked at best, but they had time to revise, make it even better.

They would avenge Merlin.

—

Merlin and Arthur have only been on holiday for three days when Morgana shows up at his flat with a bottle of wine, more food than any one person could possibly eat, and a sour expression.

“I hate that they’re so damn happy. It’s disgusting.” Morgana said, collapsing onto his couch.

The two of them had grown closer once Merlin and Arthur got engaged. Merlin was always talking about her, Arthur’s half sister who he almost liked better than Arthur, actually, too bad be wasn’t straight because if so…

“We’re supposed to be happy for them. They’re in love.” Lancelot said, but he took the bottle from her and broke the twist seal without being asked.

“Well, if my Arthur wasn’t such a cad, maybe I would be, but I know him. This is… I don’t know what it is, but it’s temporary, and Merlin doesn’t know that. It’s going to break his heart.”

“They did get married. Maybe it’s not.” Lancelot tried to stomp on the little part of himself that hoped it was temporary. He wouldn’t wish heartbreak on Merlin, even if it would give him a chance to be with the man of his dreams.

“You haven’t known Arthur as long as I have. It never bothered me before that he was like this, but I like Merlin. He’s probably one of my favorite people.” She huffed and took the glass Lancelot offered her, filled with wine.

“Mine too.” He sighed and sat down on the couch beside her.

“I’m sorry. This isn’t fair. I know you’re… well, everyone knows that. I’m sorry.”

“If Arthur makes him happy, that’s what I want for him.” Lancelot took a deep drink from his wine glass.

“You keep telling yourself that, Lancelot.” She sighed and laid her head on his shoulder, picking up the remote and putting on trash television.

—

“Lancelot, have you seen Arthur? I’m sorry to call, I know you’re not fond of him after everything, but… he didn’t come home last night.” Gwen calls him frantically about three weeks later. He’s sitting at the dock with Morgana, one hand draped over her shoulders. They were expecting the call soon, so they were spending as much time together as possible.

“I haven’t seen him. Hold on, I’m with Morgana.” He pulls the phone slightly away from his ear and makes a show of informing her of the news like her ear hadn’t been practically pressed to his phone as well. “Mor, did you hear from Arthur at all last night?” He tries not to smile to himself, but Morgana doesn’t even try to hide it.

“No, I haven’t. We haven’t spoken in a few weeks, actually. I don’t really want anything to do with him.”

“He’s missing.” He says softly enough that Gwen could still hear it. Putting on a show of being concerned was actually a part of their plan.

“Serves him right. Not like he looked very hard for my brother when he went missing. He’s probably drunk in an alley somewhere.”

“Mor, come on.” He sighed and put his ear back to the phone. “Gwen, do you need any help? We can be down there in a bit. Have you talked to the police yet?”

“No. I was hoping someone had heard from him. I was going to call Morgana next. Will you just call Percival and Gwaine and them? I don’t think they like me very much.”

“Gwaine likes you plenty, and Percival is just shy. Don’t worry about it. I’ll call them. You getting his work friends?”

“Yeah. Thank you, Lancelot. I appreciate this so much.”

“Anything, Gwen.”

When he hangs up, he and Morgana grin wildly at each other, triumphant that their plan is going to work.

—

Gwaine tells Merlin that Lancelot and Morgana are sleeping together and Lancelot never corrects him. It’s not wrong, necessarily, it’s just not what Merlin thinks it is. Morgana is aromantic. Lancelot is in love with Merlin. It’s just sex. But Merlin has these fanciful ideas about he and Arthur getting to be best men at Lancelot and Morgana’s wedding, that he immediately takes back because “of course it’s too soon to talk like that, but can you imagine?”

No. He couldn’t. He couldn’t imagine standing at an alter with Merlin behind him, instead of in front of him, but he just nodded, had a sip of his wine, and said nothing.

The rumor circulates through their entire friend group, eventually. He and Morgana do spend a lot of time together, for two people who aren’t dating but are sleeping together. A part of Lancelot wants to break it off, but the small smile on Merlin’s face every time he mentions his and Morgana’s relationship keeps him from doing it.

They feel like partners in this giant conspiracy to hate Merlin’s marriage, and their connection is the only thing that keeps him sane. Well, that and the very mandatory Tuesday dinners he and Merlin always have, no matter what.

—

Watching poor Gwen get carted off in handcuffs probably isn’t supposed to satisfy Lancelot, but it does, just a little bit. He doesn’t even feel guilty, because Prison is a better fate than Arthur or Merlin had.

She looks at him with this howling anger that Lancelot pretends not to understand. She has suspected him since a couple weeks into the investigation of Arthur’s death. How convenient that he’d managed to let it slip to the police that Gwen had taken out life insurance on Arthur. How convenient that the only person who could corroborate his testimony was Arthur’s sister, who had always hated her. How convenient that Arthur had disappeared on a night where he was supposed to have plans with her but canceled for some unknown reason that couldn’t be corroborated or exonerate her.

Yes. How very convenient.

#minimercelotweek2021 #day 3: angst #mercelot #merlance #merlin x lancelot #merlin/lancelot #lancelot&morgana

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blitzturtles · 3 years

Text

Title: Night Off

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: DC Comics

Pairing(s): JayDick

Summary: “If you’re not here to kill me, then get out!” Dick calls without moving. He should probably double check as to who his intruder is, but the idea of moving is somehow more unappealing than the idea of one of his enemies actually managing to break into his apartment. He’ll take the risk of potential kidnapping if it means that they’ll do most of the bodily lifting for him.

Notes: I was having a chronic pain flare, asked my wife who I should inflict it on, and her answer was, “Jotaro and/or Dick Grayson”. So here’s the Dick Grayson version. Btw, I’m doing a writing / fic giveaway! Check out this post to see how to enter. Goes until 8.25.21!

It’s extremely rare for Dick to pull out of a planned patrol, but there are nights when he can’t handle the thought, much less actually suit up and venture out into Gotham. Tonight is one of those nights. Old injuries are rearing their ugly head, making themselves too known to be ignored, and he knows that going out will be a mistake. He’s more likely to cause trouble than he is to prevent it, and he’s not about to cut into someone else’s patrol just to have someone come to his rescue. That’s time that could be better spent, and he hates the idea of anyone knowing the degree of pain he’s dealing with. To know that it cripples him to the point where walking is a slow, agonizing process. It feels like a weakness that he’s not prepared to share.

Bruce has chronic pain. That’s something Dick’s known for years. Possibly since he was a child, but the man never seems to be stopped or even slowed down by it. He’s never missed a patrol. Never needed someone to fish him out of a bad situation brought on by his knee completely giving out on him (not that Dick admitted to that being the problem; he’d lied and claimed it had been freshly injured.) It’s frustrating to watch, and it sets a precedent that Dick can’t keep up with. It makes him feel pathetic on nights like these, and it’s all he can do to try to distract himself with crappy television. Up until the moment when something crashes into his apartment through his-- previously locked-- window.

“If you’re not here to kill me, then get out!” Dick calls without moving. He should probably double check as to who his intruder is, but the idea of moving is somehow more unappealing than the idea of one of his enemies actually managing to break into his apartment. He’ll take the risk of potential kidnapping if it means that they’ll do most of the bodily lifting for him.

Sure enough, Jason shows up in the doorway of his living room a moment later with his helmet at his side, but his cowl still fixed in place. “You’re not dressed,” is the first thing that comes out of his mouth, and it makes Dick’s eyebrows climb up toward his hairline.

“Are you my babysitter now?”

“No,” Jason snarls, “I’m not fucking Bruce.”

“Alright then,” Dick shrugs and tries to leave it at that. The keyword being ‘try’, because Jason never could leave well enough alone.

“Why aren’t you out?”

“Changed my mind. Am I not allowed to do that?” Shit. He sounds unnecessarily snappish. More so aloud than he does in his own head, which he knows is the pain getting the better of him, but that doesn’t mean he wants it to reflect in his tone. He heaves a sigh, “Sorry, just wasn’t up for it tonight, you know? Think I twisted my ankle a little last night, and I thought I would take a night. See if the swelling goes down.”

Jason frowns as he mulls over those words, but he doesn’t outright reject them. “Okay,” he starts, and Dick almost sighs in relief, if only internally, “So that was bullshit.”

Fuck.

“Jason-”

“We can do this all night, so you can keep lying to me, or you can just tell me what’s going on,” Jason’s gaze shifts from Dick to the rest of his apartment, undoubtedly looking for some kind of clue. Or possibly some sort of trouble. Neither of which he finds, because Dick’s too stubborn to ice his joints, and the compression wraps he has on are hidden by his clothes.

“I’m not kidding about my ankle,” Dick says after a moment of contemplating his word choice.

“You’re just lying about the cause,” Jason concludes after a moment. His head is cocked to the side, but it’s apparent that he’s fixated on the offending joint, “And it’s not the only thing bothering you.”

The problem with Jason is that he’s far more observant than most people give him credit for. And intelligent, for that matter. It’s easy to forget that Jason thinks Shakespeare is a fun read, and that he’ll spend hours debating the topic with Alfred, if given the chance (and Alfred is always willing). There’s also the fact that Jason tends to pick and choose when he’s going to press an issue; often because he intends to come back around to it, but only when the situation turns in his favor. But the favor here has always been Jason’s. Dick’s stuck on the couch of his apartment, unwilling to move unless absolutely necessary, because his knee will feel like it’s being torn in half if he does, and that’s to say nothing about either ankle.

“I don’t really want to talk about this, Jason,” Dick uses the name for emphasis this time. With a short, clipped tone that he hopes conveys just how badly he would like Jason to leave, but Jason’s also nothing if not obstinate.

“Have you tried ice yet? Or heat?”

The words startle Dick, and he looks to Jason with far too many emotions readable on his face. Jason merely raises an eyebrow in return, and Dick sighs, “No. I don’t think I can get up.”

“Oh,” Jason breathes the word, like he hadn’t expected the answer. And he probably hadn’t. He’d probably expected Dick to continue to deny reality. To lie through his teeth until Jason gave up (which wasn’t going to happen, but that’s beyond the point now.) “Okay. Got any ice in the freezer?”

“Yes- what?”

Jason’s gone in an instant, heading for the kitchen with little concern for Dick’s desire to be left alone. He comes back a minute later with several bags full of freshly scooped ice. He passes them to Dick, one at a time, while Dick slowly places them on various offending limbs.

There’s a dumbstruck expression on Dick’s face, as if he can’t fully process what’s happening, which might have to do with why he doesn’t stop it either. Jason disappears again, this time into the bathroom, and Dick just- let’s him. He’s not sure what else to do now that Jason’s set his mind to- whatever it is he’s set his mind to.

“Here,” Jason says when he comes back with a paper cup of water and a handful of pills. It takes Dick a moment to remember that, a. His first aid kit is in the bathroom just like most peoples’, and the leap for Jason figuring that out isn’t really a leap and b. That Jason’s come here for a (very rough) patch up job more than once, which means he already knows exactly where he can find said kit.

Dick swallows the painkillers with little prompting and passes the cup back to Jason, who must dispose of it in the trash, given that he disappears into the kitchen again. When he comes back, he looks at Dick with that sort of halfcocked, curious expression he gets.

“Anything else I can do?”

“Uh- no. I think you’ve done plenty,” and Dick means that. Jason’s done more for him than Dick would have done for himself, and the ice actually feels kind of nice on the throbbing joints. Combined with the compression, it’s the best relief he’s gotten all day. Maybe the medication will actually do something for a change.

“Good,” Jason says, and Dick assumes that’s the end of that. That he’ll go right back out the window that he came in, but, instead, Jason flops on the couch cushion nearest to him and nods at the long forgotten TV. “What’re we watching?”

“We?”

“Yeah,” Jason says without missing a beat, “I got nothing better to do, and distractions can help with pain. Trust me.”

And two things occur to Dick right then. The first being that Jason isn’t just doing this out of some obligation. He wants to help. Wants to make Dick feel better, and Dick doesn’t know what to do with that information. And the second is that Jason knows, on a very personal level, what it’s like to be in so much pain that his body doesn’t cooperate with him, and of course he does. Jason’s death had been far from pleasant, and he still wears the scars of it. There’s no doubt he feels it in his bones and damaged cartilage. Never mind all the other injuries since then, and there’s a long, long list that Dick’s personally seen the fallout of several times.

“I don’t know,” Dick says once his brain starts processing in the right direction again, “CSI?”

Jason snorts, “What, want to spend all night yelling at the screen?”

“Maybe,” Dick says with a shrug, “You got something better?”

“Hell yeah,” Jason reaches for the remote, and Dick passes it to him without question, “We’re gonna watch some good ole-fashioned zombies.”

And there goes Dick’s eyebrows again, “Really?”

“Sometimes a man just needs something a little autobiographical, quit judging,” and Jason says it with such a severe tone that Dick can’t help but laugh.

Truthfully, it’s the best he’s felt all night, and that doesn’t change once the movie-- however bad it may be-- starts. He catches Jason with a small, half-smile tugging at the corner of one side of his lips, and it helps Dick to relax a bit, to know that he isn’t being judged.

#jaydick #jason todd #dick grayson #batfam #dc comics #blitzwrites #blitz

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darter-blue · 4 years

Text

okay so I reached 300 followers today - and in appreciation for putting up with me and my silly blog you all get a little gift!

Here is 2k words of Stucky fluff just for you, dear followers. Thanks for all your love.

Worth it

Bucky is pretty sure that this was a terrible idea. Every single date he’s ever been on in his life has been a disaster. How he could have possibly been persuaded to believe that not one date but twenty dates, in succession, in increments of ten minutes a pop - speed dating, his best friend had called it with a smile intended to deceive, but torture, might be a better descriptive - would be in any way a good idea is beyond him. It felt like extreme dating in the same way that ironing over a cliff face was extreme ironing, dangerous and nauseating. And Bucky had always preferred to just live with the wrinkles thanks. Anything that required more care than, ‘stick it in the dryer on high and wear it immediately’, was not a piece of clothing that ever made it past the first wash.

He felt kind of the same about dating.

Anyway. However he looked at it, this was not the ‘opportunity to meet someone great’ he had been promised. This was just a faster, more efficient way for Bucky to get stepped on. To meet people who saw his looks and smiled and then spent the remainder of the date growing increasingly disappointed with the reality of his personality.

Well. At the very least, Nat was going to owe him that fifty bucks. Because not one of the guys he had met so far would ever put Bucky down as a potential match.

But finally it feels like, after too many beers and way too many sweaty, lingering hand shakes, Bucky has finally been through all twenty dates. And thank god. So far, over the course of the night, he’s been told he should speak up more, to smile more, to put his hair up, to sit straighter, to talk less about math, and to seriously reconsider his fashion choices. He is so fucking ready to go home he has his keys already in his hand. But while he drains the last of his bottle and prepares to get up from his chair and run (before the speed dating organiser can grab him for his card and his ‘insights’), someone new sits down gracefully into the seat opposite him.

Somebody he doesn’t remember from the introductions.

And he’s looking up from where tight blue jeans around thick thighs have slid into the seat, up to a broad chest in a t-shirt that has to be two sizes too small, up to shoulders so wide they could carry a bus, and up, up, up to the most beautiful face Bucky has ever seen in real life. Or at all, in anything maybe.

It’s ridiculously unfair how attractive this man is.

His dark blond hair is long and swept back. His skin is golden against a dark, full beard that frames his high cheekbones and pink lips. His eyes are the kind of blue that only exists in magazines. And he’s smiling. A real, enthusiastic smile.

At Bucky.

Bucky looks down to make sure he’s been drinking light beer - and not something heavy enough to have him hallucinating. The label is just the cheap crappy stuff that the dating company provided. Doesn’t mean it hasn’t been spiked, though, he doesn’t feel dizzy.

He looks back up at the guy and he seems to have deflated a little at Bucky’s less than stellar response. Which… well, that’s basically the story of his life.

Bucky raises an eyebrow but chooses not to say anything (what would he even say, besides hello. Okay hello would be a good start. But he’d just mumble it anyway. And fuck it up like he always does)

But the guy is not deterred.

‘Hey,’ he says, dialling the smile back up, ‘How’s it going?’

Bucky looks at the guy, this perfect, gorgeous guy, looks around for the moderator, at the other daters, at the general public inhabiting the rest of the bar, and tries to figure out whether he’s being punked or something.

‘Umm…’ Bucky looks back to the guy and tries to find a word, any word, to help him figure out what is happening. ‘Hi?’ His brain is apparently not cooperating.

‘Hi,’ the guy replies, his smile, somehow, getting brighter as he does. He holds a hand out across the table to Bucky, long, strong fingers, and a wide palm. Perfectly manicured fingernails. And how are even his hands beautiful. ‘I’m Steve.’

Bucky reaches out his own hand, nails bitten down and blue ink stained into the cracks, shaking the outstretched palm and feeling himself want to linger in the warmth and softness of the guy’s shake. ‘Bucky.’

‘Bucky?’

‘Nickname,’ Bucky says automatically. But the guy doesn’t seem put off by the tone. If anything, his smile seems to widen at the answer.

‘It’s cute,’ the guy, Steve, says with a low, husky laugh, ‘Bucky.’

‘Umm… thanks?’ Bucky says, raising his eyebrow even further. ‘You don’t... ‘ he starts, and then clears his throat, the nerves getting to him, making his throat itchy, ‘I don’t remember you from the introductions.’

‘Oh yeah, no. I’m not part of the group,’ Steve says with a wave of his hand, dismissing the notion, ‘I’m here with some friends.’ He gestures to a bunch of guys at the bar, looking like some kind of movie star football team, pretending not to be watching their buddy do… whatever it is Steve is doing here.

‘Are you… Did you need something, or…’ Bucky is rambling now, nervous as to what Steve might be doing if he’s not here for a torturous ten minute date.

‘Your number?’ Steve says, raising one perfectly arched eyebrow of his own.

‘My what?’ Bucky says without thinking.

‘Your phone number?’ Steve repeats, looking a little less cocky now, ‘You know, so I could call you sometime.’

And Bucky is frozen for a moment, his mouth open, his eyebrows raised. Probably not a good look at all. He snaps his mouth shut and tucks a strand of his dark wavy shoulder length hair behind an ear. Buying himself some time. ‘You aren’t part of the speed dating group?’

‘Uh-uh,’ Steve says, shaking his head.

‘You’re here with your friends?’ Bucky asks, trying to pin this all down.

Steve nods.

‘And you just came over here to get my number?’

‘I did.’

‘My number?’ Bucky asks incredulously.

‘Absolutely.’ Steve says. And that tone leaves no room for argument.

It sends a little shiver down Bucky’s spine to be honest. The first time all night he’s felt any flash of heat.

‘Why?’ Bucky asks. He knows you're not supposed to ask that. But, well, Bucky certainly wouldn’t be here if he was any good at meeting people, flirting, or being on a date in the first place.

‘Hmm…’ Steve says, placing one lovely finger against his bottom lip in mock contemplation. ‘Let me see. I’ve been sitting over there,’ he points back to his recently abandoned spot at the bar, ‘Watching losers come and go from this table all night,’ Steve drops his hand and leans forward, ‘Asking you the stupidest fucking questions I’ve ever heard asked, talking over you,’ he’s picking up speed now and Bucky is helplessly fascinated by the way Steve’s blue eyes are almost glowing with fervour, ‘Not appreciating one goddamn thing you’ve had to say. Not laughing at that hilarious crack about obtuse angles, and not treating you with the kind of reverence that you deserve.’

Bucky is watching Steve rant about how awful his dates have been, hears him unabashedly complimenting his math humour, feels his genuine affability crash over him, and it starts to hit Bucky that maybe this guy is actually serious.

Maybe this glorious man is actually interested in asking Bucky on a real fucking date.

‘Also,’ Steve says, Bucky suddenly and sharply focused back to his words as Steve’s voice drops to a sinfully deep register, ‘You are definitely the most beautiful guy I’ve ever seen in my life.’

And whoa.

Bucky blinks. And tilts his head in confusion. He can’t be serious… can he?

‘You came to a speed dating night in a sweater vest. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more adorable.’

‘You’re joking,’ Bucky says. Because every single person who sat down at his table tonight, once they got past the long hair and the pretty face, had bemoaned his choice of outfit for the evening. (Even Nat had told him to lose the vest).

‘I am deadly serious,’ Steve says. And the heat in his eyes as he looks at Bucky is evidence of his sincerity.

‘You know I’m a total nerd.’

‘I can tell that you’re brilliant,’ Steve counters, ‘You’re like a mathematical genius.’

‘I talk to my pot plants,’ Bucky says, leaning forward in his seat.

‘I love that,’ Steve says without hesitation, smile growing wider by the second, ‘You can’t scare me away Bucky.’

‘I’m not trying to scare you,’ Bucky says, and it’s true, ‘I’m just trying to preempt your eventual disappointment.’

But Steve is shaking his head. He laughs that low husky laugh and looks up at Bucky through beautifully dark, long eyelashes. ‘A, I could not be disappointed by you if you tried, and B, can I get your number? Cause I’d really like to call you.’

Bucky can feel himself smiling, by some minor miracle. He can feel a flush spread through his cheeks. He can see the other daters getting up to hand over their cards. None of them have spared a glance back at Bucky, though plenty of them have given Steve a second look.

He looks back to Steve, who’s now pouting his pink lips at Bucky, just enough to make Bucky actually laugh out loud. ‘Yeah, okay, sure. You can have my number,’ Bucky says, accepting Steve’s phone as he hands it over and adding himself in the contacts as ‘Math nerd - Bucky’ really wanting to make sure Steve remembers what he’s getting himself into if he ever actually tries to call him.

Steve takes his phone back and immediately calls the number, Bucky can feel his phone vibrating in his pocket. He pulls it out to show Steve that it's ringing, and Steve shrugs his giant shoulders and laughs again. ‘Just checking.’

‘Well-’ Bucky says.

‘So-’ Steve says at the same time.

They both laugh, but Bucky gestures for Steve to go first.

‘I was just ah, wondering if you might be free right now?’

And oh, Bucky’s heart skips a little at the question. And the hopeful, nervous look that Steve is giving him right now. He looks down at his watch. It’s ten, but it’s Saturday tomorrow. He has no classes. Nowhere to be.

‘Yes,’ Bucky says, and Steve breathes out with a smile, ‘I’m free now.’

‘Great let me just…’ Steve gestures back to his friends and Bucky nods.

He’s expecting Steve to just drag him over to the group and maybe buy him another beer. But Steve is waving to his friends, slapping a few shoulders, laughing and ducking his head. He’s grabbing his jacket and jogging back to Bucky.

‘You like ice cream?’ He asks Bucky as he reaches him.

‘Yeah, I like ice cream,’ Bucky replies, tilting his head, still a little confused but mostly charmed by this gorgeous, strangely sweet man he’s just met.

‘Cool. I know this great ice cream place.’ And he takes Bucky’s hand to lead him through and out of the bar. Past the daters and the organisers who are looking at him with surprise. Smiling back at Bucky as he checks to make sure he’s got everything.

And something in Bucky is melting.

But also he’s a little pissed.

Cause it looks like he’s going to have to fork out that fifty bucks to Nat after all.

Only one more look at the guy who’s got his hand in his soft warm grip and Bucky can’t even be mad. It’s totally worth it.

Steve is totally worth all of it.

#stucky #steve x bucky #quick fic #fluff #speed dating #steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve/bucky #1 - 2k words #my fics #300 followers #you all get a present

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whosemorales · 3 years

Text

Notes From Prince Charming

I absolutely loved the last episode. But I refuse to believe that Kwamis don't fall in love. I refuse to believe that Plikki isn't a thing. Their 16 in the story BTW.

≈≈≈≈≈

Dear puurincess,

Thank you for the movie night and food I had a furbulous time.

P. S Hope you have a pursitively pawsome day princess.

- Your knight in shining leather.

Marinette rolled her eyes at the note but couldn't help the soft smile that made its way onto her lips, reaching for her blanket she pulled back the cover and slipped out of bed. A cold chill ran through her body when her feet made contact with the ground, walking over to her desk Marinette opened a circular box and shook her head as she looked at all the other notes nestled inside, all the same as the one in her hand. Well, not the same exactly, they all said different things, but they all had the same purpose so they were the same none the less. Folding the note she placed it in with the others before getting ready for school.

*******

"Bye Maman, bye Papa," Marinette called as she raced out of the bakery, grabbing a croissant and a chocolate chip cookie on her way.

She was late.

Again.

How? She had no idea. OK maybe she had slept in a bit too long, but she had stayed up late watching the movie with Chat Noir so of course, she was going to be tired.

Once she got to the school she heaved out a sigh, she had 3 minutes until class started. Deciding that she didn't need to run anymore Marinette made her way up the steps of the high school, carefully slipping the chocolate chip cookie into her purse. She giggled softly when she heard Tikki's excited squeal.

Entering the classroom she looked over to Alya who had her eyebrows raised and a smirk resting on her lips, Marinette gave her a lazy smile before slipping into the seat beside her.

"So what was it this time?" Alya asked as she looked over at her best friend, who had her head resting in her arms like a makeshift pillow. "Let me guess, you had to feed your cat, but it ran away from you so you had to chase it. Or how about you fell asleep while eating breakfast or maybe prince charming came in through your skylight and whisked you away into the night, where you had a spectacular dinner on top of the Eiffel tower."

Marinette laughed at the last one, it definitely wasn't as far fetched as Alya thought. Lifting her head she sat back in her seat and looked at Alya who was still smirking at her.

"For your information, my prince charming would never climb through my skylight. Adrien is way classier than that. And as for your question I was up late watching a movie with a friend."

Alya narrowed her eyes and smirked. She watched as Adrien and Nino entered the room and waited for them to be within earshot before she continued.

"A friend huh? And who might this mysterious friend be?" She asked nudging Marinette.

Marinette rolled her eyes. "Don't worry about it Alya you wouldn't know him anyway." Marinette's eyes went wide at her mistake.

Adrien and Nino had both turned to listen to their conversation now.

Alya's eyes went wide. "Oooh so it's a he is it? So what exactly were you and this boy doing in your room at such a late hour?"

Marinette had started to go red, and so had Adrien though Alya had no idea why. The poor boy was blushing up a storm.

"I told you we were watching a movie, nothing more nothing less."

"Mmmmh, that doesn't sound very believable," Nino smirked. "What movie was it?"

"We were watching Tangled." Marinette shrugged.

"And why were you watching Tangled?" Alya frowned.

"Because he'd never seen it before."

"Girl that sounds even less believable, everyone has seen Tangled it's one of the greats. Are you sure nothing happened Marinette?" Alya wiggled her eyebrows and smirked as Marinette went even redder.

Alya laughed. "Girl chill out I'm messing with you, unless..."

Marinette groaned and rested her head back in her hands.

Alya and Nino both laughed, shaking his head slightly Nino turned to Marinette.

"Relax M we're just teasing, even if Mr Prince Charming is climbing through your skylight and whisking you away to a magical dinner and then bringing you back to watch a romantic movie with strictly no funny business," Nino gave her a quick wink. "Who are we to judge."

Marinette let out another groan and looked at Nino and Alya with narrowed eyes. "God you to really are made for each other."

Nino smirked and reached for Alya's hand, giving it a quick kiss he turned back to Marinette. "What can I say I'm just naturally charming, it was only a matter of time before she confessed her undying love for me."

Alya laughed and pulled her hand back, leaning forward slightly she smirked. "Right, and what was it that you said to me after I confessed my undying love for you?" She brought her hand up to her chin and pretended to think as Nino's eyes went wide and he started to stammer. Alya clicked her fingers. "Ah that's right after I confessed my undying love for you, you thanked me."

Everyone burst into a fit of laughter as Nino's face went redder than a tomato, this was definitely going to be an eventful day.

*******

"Urgh, why does Mr Coopers have to give us so much homework?" Nino groaned as he finished packing his bag.

"I know it's not like we have a life we're trying to live." Alya laughed bitterly as she hooked her bag around her neck.

"School just sucks," Marinette concluded with a shrug.

Once Adrien had finished packing his bag they all walked to the front of the school, they talked for a few minutes until Adrien's bodyguard showed up. Marinette was even able to get out more than one sentence, with the occasional stuttering of course.

"Bye guys, see you tomorrow," Adrien called.

"Bye dude."

"Bye Adrien."

"Tomorrow bye- ugh no sorry- Uh see you tomoz- Ugh," Marinette facepalmed with a groan. "Bye just bye."

The others laughed at her attempt as she watched Adrien's car drive away, she felt her purse moving slightly, no doubt Tikki was laughing too.

Marinette rolled her eyes. "Whatever I'll get there one day."

"Of course you will dudette, we believe in you."

"Yeah girl, it's only a matter of time before he realizes he likes you and confesses his undying love." She gave Nino a smirk.

"Just don't give up M." Turning to Alya Nino kissed her goodbye.

"I love you," He mumbled against her lips.

Alya leaned forward and kissed him, pulling away she smiled. "I love you too, see you tomorrow turtle boy."

He gave her an adorable smile before giving her one last kiss goodbye.

"Damn you two really are made for each other, that was so cute."

Alya turned to Marinette and smiled, her smile grew wider and before they knew it they were both in a fit of laughter.

Catching her breath Marinette gave Alya a wave. "I'll see you tomorrow Al."

Alya frowned. "Tomorrow? Girl, I'm coming round to your house, and the girls too. For the study, session remember."

Marinette's eyes went wide, she definitely did not remember that.

"Uh yeah- the sturdy- uh study session of course I remember." She rubbed her neck nervously.

Wait wasn't Chat supposed to be coming tonight?

Marinette's face paled, this wasn't good. She had no way of contacting him, so he wouldn't know not to come.

"Hey! Earth to Marinette!" Alya waved her hand in front of Marinette's face. "You ready?"

"A-are yeah, sure. Let's go!"

"The girls are going to meet us there," Alya informed as they made their way to the bakery.

"OK." Marinette breathed. Maybe it wasn't going to be that bad.

******

It was bad.

It was so bad.

The rest of the girls had arrived 30 minutes later, and they had been studying all afternoon, which was fine. The bad part was that it was getting close to 7:30 which was normally when Chat decided to show up.

"Ugh! My brain hurts." Alix grumbled, pushing back her chair she flopped down onto Marinette's chaise.

"Mine too. It feels like mush." Mylène agreed.

"Yeah, I think it's time for a break." Marinette pushed her chair back and stood up. "Do you guys want some food?"

"Oooh yes please!"

"Could you bring some of those pineapple macaroons?"

"Ohh and some of those chocolate croissants?"

Marinette laughed. "Sure I'll bring back a whole feast."

"Thank you!"

"Hey, Marinette? Have you done any new designs lately?" Mylène asked.

"Yeah, why?"

"I just want to have a look. Where do you keep your sketchbook?"

"It's in the box at the end of the table," Marinette yelled as she made her way downstairs.

Looking around Marinette's desk Mylène spotted a circular box resting at the end of her table.

"That must be it." She said to the girls.

Picking it up Mylène pulled off the lid, only to be met with a box of notes.

"What is it?" Alix asked lifting her head to get a closer look.

"There notes." Mylène frowned.

"What do they say." Alix jumped up to get a closer look.

"They kind of look like love notes."

"What!?"

Everyone quickly jumped up to look at the notes. Reading the notes everyone's eyes widened. They really were love notes!

"-OK so I just grabbed some of everythin- EPP! WHAT ARE YOU GUYS DOING!" Marinette quickly dropped the food onto the table and raced over to the girls.

"Why didn't you tell us you were getting love notes?" Alix asked grabbing out another note to read.

"They're not love notes!" Marinette argued snatching the notes out of their hands and stuffing them back into the box.

Alya scoffed. "Have you even read them, they are 100% love notes."

Marinette rolled her eyes. "Funnily enough I have read them."

"Who are they from?" Rose asked, trying to get a better look in the box.

Marinette quickly stuffed the lid back on top. "No one."

"That's not believable," Juleka mumbled.

Alya suddenly gasped. "Is it from your mysterious Prince Charming?"

Marinette started to blush though she had no idea why.

"Oh, it is!" Alya squealed.

"Woah Woah back up, who's this Prince Charming?" Alix frowned.

"Oh that's right you guys don't know," Alya smirked. "Marinette had a boy in her room last night at quite a late hour."

"Ohhhhhhh!" Smirks grew on all their faces.

"Urgh!" Marinette groaned. "Nothing happened, all we did was watch Tangled."

"Right you watched Tangled." Alix gave her a sly wink. "I understand," she smirked.

"No, you don't! Because nothing happened. All we did was sit together, watch a movie and eat food that's it!"

"OK ok girl calm down."

"Did you guys cuddle?" Rose questioned.

Marinette choked on her words. Did she cuddle with him? It wasn't really classed as cuddling was it? There were no romantic feelings so was it still cuddling?

"N-no. Well, I do t-think it's classed as cuddling."

"Well, how were you sitting?" Mylène questioned.

"Um, he was leaning against the wall and I was laying in between his legs with my back on his chest."

The girl's jaws dropped to the floor.

"No way!"

"Like I said it's not even classed as cuddling," Marinette argued.

"It 100% is so classed as cuddling." Alix counted.

"Where were his hands?" Rose questioned.

"Around my waist, and resting on my stomach."

"And where were your hands?"

"Ah, they were sort of, fiddling with his," Marinette mumbled.

"Awwwww that's so cute!" Rose squealed knitting her hands together.

"But we weren't cuddling!"

"Does he know that?" Mylène raised her eyebrows.

"Yes!" Marinette answered quickly.

Deciding to change the topic Marinette turned back to the food.

"Anyway, I brought up a bit of everything." She gestured the plate. "And then once we're done with the break we can go back to our homework." She gestured to the forgotten books on her desk.

"Oh no no, you don't get to change the subject so quickly, I still have tons of questions," Alya smirked.

"Seriously!" Marinette groaned.

"Come on M, we deserve that much. You kept this a secret for who knows how long." Mylène shrugged innocently.

"That's a good point, how long have you been meeting up with Prince Charming?" Alya questioned, folding her arms over her chest.

"Do you really have to call him that?"

"Well, are you going to give us his name?" Alix raised her eyebrows.

"No," Marinette grumbled.

"Then yes we do have to call him that. OK so how long has Prince Charming been coming over for?"

"I don't know."

"Then think girl."

Marinette brought her finger to her chin. "Um, I think the first time he came over was in May."

"May!!" They all gasped.

"Dude that was two months ago." Alix laughed.

"OK, so this clearly isn't just a recent thing." Alya's eyes were wide, she opened her mouth to ask another question but Rose cut her off.

"What do you guys do when he comes over."

"Uh Sometimes we play video games, when my parents are out of the house we go into the kitchen and cook, sometimes we watch a movie, sometimes I'm busy with my designs so he just sits there and watches but sometimes he helps me with the measurements, sometimes we just sit there and talk for hours-" Juleka cut her off.

"What do you guys talk about?"

"Everything. The future, the past, our fears, accomplishments, things that make us happy, things that we enjoy, but sometimes he just comes round to c-" Marinette quickly stopped herself.

"Sometimes he just comes round to what Marinette?" Mylène narrowed her eyes.

"Nothing!"

"Come on Marinette no more secrets just spill." Alya urged.

Marinette sighed. "Sometimes he's really tired and overworked so he comes round and we just cuddle until he falls asleep."

"Awwwww that's so romantic." Rose squealed.

"But it's not really cuddling cause there's no romance or anything."

"OK so what do you want us to say, you guys sleep together?" Alix smirked.

Marinette's face went bright red. "You know what cuddling is fine, we'll just say cuddling."

The girls laughed.

"OK I've got another three," Alya glanced back at the box full of notes. "Why does he call you Princess, why did he start writing the note in the first place, and why have you kept the notes if there no romantic feelings between you?"

Marinette froze. She didn't know how to answer any of them. Well, she did. But then she didn't. Urgh, this is a nightmare!

"I don't know why he calls my Princess, it's just something he called me at the start and it stuck, and the notes well, one night we had both fallen asleep while 'cuddling'," She did quotation marks, glaring at Alix. "And he woke up before me so he wrote me a note to thank me and I guess it's kind of routine, he does them a lot more now that he knows I keep them, and as for why I keep them... I don't really know why, they just make me happy I guess. "

The girls all had smiles on their faces.

Deciding to break the silence Marinette turned back to the food. Grabbing one of the chocolate croissants she looked over at the girls.

"OK well since you've all asked your questions how about we get back to-"

Tap Tap

Oh, you've got to be kidding me!

"What was that." Mylène frowned.

"Probably just the wind." Marinette offered loudly hoping that Chat would get the hint.

"Princess?"

"I didn't know the wind could speak," Alya smirked.

"Princess," Chat called again, slipping through the skylight he landed cross-legged on her bed. "I was feline lonely so I thought I'd drop in and-" Then he saw them. "Oh uh- hi girls." He scratched the back of his neck nervously.

Marinette facepalmed.

For the superhero of luck, she really didn't have a lot of it on her side today.

The girl's jaws dropped.

"OH MY GOD!"

"No way!"

"I don't believe it!"

"Prince Charming?"

Everyone was in shock, well except for Marinette she wasn't even surprised by her luck. Looking at the croissant in her hands Marinette shrugged.

"Anyone want a croissant?"

"Oh! Yes me please!" Chats eyes went wide with excitement.

"Catch!"

Marinette threw the croissant across the room and Chat caught it perfectly.

"Thank you mademoiselle." Chat smirked, taking a bite Chats eyes went doey and he hummed in satisfaction. "Mmmh, did you make these ones?"

"Yeah, how can you tell?"

"Cause they're amazing, just like you." He flashed her a wink and took another bite.

Marinette rolled her eyes. "Stop trying to butter me up, you're not getting anymore."

Chat placed his hand over his heart and gasped. "You wound me, Princess, I would never try to butter you up. I am the purrfect gentleman."

Marinette rolled her eyes. "Oh of course you are how could I forget."

"Don't worry Puurincess, you can make it up to me with, oh I don't know, maybe some cookies and warm milk, and I puuromise I'll never ask again." He smiled innocently.

Marinette shook her head, but couldn't fight the smile tugging at her lips. "Kitty we both know even that wouldn't stop you from coming over."

He smiled. "Well you know what they say, if you feed a stray it will keep coming back for more."

She smirked. "I wouldn't say your a stray more like," She tapped her lips in thought. "A mangy alley cat."

"You know you love me." Chat scrunched up his nose teasingly.

Marinette's eyebrows furrowed. "Do I know that?"

The girl's eyes were all wide with shock. What the hell was happening?

Alix leaned towards Alya, careful not to take her eyes of the bizarre scene in front of her.

"Is Marinette flirting?"

"I'm not sure, I've never actually seen Marinette flirt."

"Oh my Princess loves to flirt, she flirts with me all the time, most of the time I can never get her to stop talking."

Marinette narrowed her eyes and placed her hands on her hips. "You are so full of yourself, you know that. At this rate, you might as well marry yourself."

Chat sighed lovingly. "I would if I could Purrincess, but I'm afraid my heart belongs to Ladybug. Bugaboo loves me, even though she's too stubborn to realise it, it's one of the things I love about her, besides her eyes of course."

Marinette scoffed. She wasn't stubborn.

"Well-" Alya cut her off.

"OK can I just, stop you there, um how- no, what the hell is going on?!"

Marinette sighed. "Um girls Chat Noir, Chat Noir girls."

Alya rolled her eyes. "Girl we know who he is but what is he doing here!?"

"Is this Prince Charming?" Mylène asked.

"Prince Charming huh?" Chat smirked and flexed his muscles teasingly. "Is that your nickname for me Princess? If so I approve."

Marinette glared at him. "You shush."

Chat lifted his hands in surrender and pretended to zip his lips shut.

"How did this happen?" Alix questioned.

Marinette sighed. "Do you guys remember when Andréa' got akumatized?" They nodded. "Well that night Chat had stopped by for a talk, and then when Glaciator came after me Chat saved me. After the fight was over he came back to make sure I was safe, and well... Here we are."

"Couldn't have put it better myself." Chat smiled.

"... So you guys have been hanging out ever since then huh? Watching movies, talking, playing videos games, cooking. All that." Alix wondered.

Marinette and Chat both looked at each other and shrugged. "Yeah pretty much." They both said in unison.

"Wow!"

"OK wait so just-," Alya took in a deep breath. "You're telling me, that my best friend, and one of Paris' superheroes, have been hanging out together-"

"Practically dating!" Alix cut in.

Alya nodded. "Practically dating, and I wasn't told?"

"We are not dating," Marinette argued. "And I didn't tell you because, well it wasn't anything important."

The girls gaped.

"Not important! Girl, you've had a superhero coming into your room to hang out for the past two months and you didn't think it was important to share this information."

"I'm sorry."

Alya sighed. "You're lucky you're my best friend, or we would be having a very different conversation. But I forgive you."

Marinette smiled. Looking over at the forgotten textbooks she sighed. "Well, I'm guessing no one wants to continue with their homework so how about we play Ultimate Mega Strike 3?"

"Yes! I'm down."

"Sure."

Chat jumped off the bed and raced over to grab a controller. Turning to Mari he gave her a smirk.

Marinette tilted her head and gave him the same smirk. "Oh kitty, you only wish you were as good as me." Reaching over she flicked his bell before starting the game.

********

As the game numbers started to thin out so did the number of girls. So far Mylène, Alix, Rose, and Juleka had all gone home, the only person left was Alya.

"Marinette style! Boo-Yaa!" Marinette cheered as she won another round.

Chat groaned, dropping his hands and controller into his lap he turned to Marinette with a pout.

"How do you do that!?"

She smirked and leaned closer to him. "Like I said Kitty, I'm just that good." She tapped his nose before turning to Alya. "Wanna go another round?"

Alya yawned shaking her head. "Nah, it's getting pretty late I better head home."

"OK well, I'll walk you out."

She turned to Chat. "You behave."

He smirked. "Princess when have I not behaved myself?"

"There was that time with the yarn."

Chats smirk dropped and he crossed his arms.

"Yeah, yeah I know, it was 'the yarn's fault'."

"You know me so well."

She rolled her eyes with a smile. "Just please don't touch anything."

Chat placed his hand on his heart. "I promise I won't touch anything, cats honour."

Grabbing her stuff Alya made her way downstairs with Marinette following close behind. Once they got to the door Alya turned and hugged Marinette.

"I think Adrien might have a bit of competition."

"Competition? What do you mean."

Alya's eyes drifted up to Marinette's balcony and the certain superhero currently lounging around in her best friends room.

Following Alya's eyes Marinette sighed. "Alya I told you-"

"I know girl, I know. But that doesn't change what I saw." Smirking she gave Marinette a wave. "See you Monday."

Frowning slightly Marinette waved back.

What did Alya see? It's not like she was doing anything unusual. Right?

Walking back up to her room Marinette stopped short of the trap door. She could hear singing? Was Chat singing? Moving a bit closer she was able to make out the words.

"Little kitty on a roof all alone without his lady."

A pained smile crossed her face, she'd heard him sing that before, her mind wandered over to Chat Blanc. His excitement when he saw her, the way he had chased her through what used to be Paris. How long had he been there before she arrived? Days? Months? Years? Shaking her head she made her way up the trap door stairs.

Right before she opened the hatch, something Chat Blanc said crossed her mind.

"It was our love that did this to the world, M'lady."

Our Love.

And he knew who she was. Does the mean she knew who he was? Did she fall for him before or after she knew who was behind the mask? But she would never give up on Adrien. Would she?

"Princess?" Chats voice called out. "I can hear you on the steps so if you're trying to scare me it not going to work!" He said in a sing-song voice.

Marinette smiled despite herself, bring her sleeve up she wiped away any damp spots on her eyes and coughed trying to get rid of the tightening sensation in her throat. Shaking her head she climbed the last few steps and pushed open the hatch.

Chat was sitting cross-legged in her spinning chair, slowly swinging himself round. When he heard the hatch open his eyes went wide and he jumped up.

Marinette couldn't help but think of Chat Blanc, he'd jumped over to her the same way. But his eyes weren't as vibrant as Chats, they didn't have the same mischievous glint in them, they didn't have the energetic spring in them. Chat Blancs eyes were cold and dead and well, lifeless and most importantly they weren't the same gorgeous green that Marinette had fallen in love with.

Wait love. No. She didn't- Did she? Had she fallen for-, No? But even Alya said that-

"Marinette?" Her eyes snapped back to Chat, whose brows were furrowed and whose eyes were burning with worry. He placed his arms on her shoulders. "Are you alright? What's wrong?"

Marinette coughed again trying to get rid of the constricting tightness in her throat. "Nothing." She quickly turned to her desk, releasing herself from Chats grip.

Chat grabbed her wrist and tried to turn her back around, but she didn't budge. When it was clear that wasn't working Chat slowly let go of her wrist and walked forward. Wrapping his arms around her waist he placed his head into the crook of her neck. "Mari? Please tell me what's wrong." He mumbled, his warm breath brushing across her collar bone.

Leaning into Chats warm embrace she let out a shaking breath. She couldn't tell him why she was crying. She couldn't tell him what she'd seen. Not without giving away her identity. And that would make them one step closer to Chat Blanc.

Turning around she wrapped her arms around Chats neck and hugged him like there was no tomorrow. Chat was shocked for a few seconds before he smiled warmly and wrapped his arms around her torso pulling her in closer while he buried his head in the crook of her neck, savouring the sweet smell of cinnamon and vanilla that always seemed to radiate off Marinette's person.

They stood there for who knows how long. An hour a year a minute or even only a few seconds it didn't matter, because they were here, not in the past, not in the future, here in the present, where all they needed was each other. And if they both wished they could stay in each other's embrace until the word ended, well no one would be the wiser.

Marinette immediately felt the warmth leave her body as she pulled out of Chats embrace. Looking down at her feet she waited for the right explanation to pop into her head.

"Princess? Are you alright?"

She nodded, not knowing what else to say.

Chat knew she was lying but he wasn't going to push, she'd tell him when she was ready. But now the most important thing was to get her smiling again.

Placing his finger under her chin he tilted her head up softly. "I thought I was going to get cuddles when I showed up, but now it seems like you're the one who needs all my cuddles."

Marinette laughed softly smiling up at him.

Chat smiled triumphantly. "There it is, there's that smile." He booped her nose.

Turning around Marinette grabbed a chocolate croissant of the tray. Chats eyes widened when she handed it to him.

"I think you deserve it. Besides, I suppose even if you are a mangy alley cat I still have to feed you." She smirked.

"Meouch Princess, you wound me." He smirked, grabbing the croissant he finished it in all but two bites.

Marinette rolled her eyes and walked over to her bed. Climbing up the ladder quickly she sat down.

"Now if I have this right, then the only reason you came to see me today was because you wanted cuddles."

Chat hummed in response. "Because you give out the best cuddles in all of Paris."

Marinette raised her eyebrows. "Well, then I guess I'm going to have to start charging you, can't just give away my cuddles for free now can I?"

Chat gasped. "No! Please Puurincess, you can't do that! I promise I will do anything you want."

Marinette smiled. "I'm going to hold you to that."

"I am nothing if not a man of my word buginette." Chat bowed.

Marinette was slightly shocked by the new nickname but smiled. "Well, I suppose I can give you a 30-day free trial kitty."

Chat smiled and walked over to her bed, climbing the latter her was at the end of her bed within a few seconds. Shaking her head she pulled back the covers and motioned for him to come over. Smiling happily Chat crawled over to Marinette who had her back resting on her wall, climbing in between her legs Chat buried his head in her stomach while wrapping his arms around her waist. Smiling softly at him she pulled the blanket back over the top of them, reaching behind her she grabbed out her book and started reading.

Moving her hand she started running her fingers through his hair, receiving a hum from Chat she smiled. She continued to run her fingers through his hair, occasionally scratching behind the ears on the top of his head. About 15 minutes had passed when Marinette heard a low rumbling coming from Chat. Frowning slightly she leaned in closer, it sounded like purring.

Was Chat purring?

Smiling softly Marinette leaned so her lips were near his human ear and whispered. "Are you purring?"

Chat didn't respond, he only squeezed her tighter and nuzzled his head into her stomach more. Looking at his face she smiled, he looked so peaceful like every worry in the world had vanished without a trace, like he never wanted to leave. She should be waking him up so he could go home, but she couldn't bring herself to it. He told her before that his home situation wasn't the best, and that some of the only times when he could have fun were when he was with her, both ladybug or just Marinette. She brushed his hair back from his face and ran her fingers through his hair softly, careful not to disturb him. He was still purring, the low hum was vibrating through her body, making her more relaxed than she'd been all week.

Looking down at him she smiled again. He looked adorable, with his mouth slightly open and his hair all ruffled up, and his eyes, even though they were closed she could see his eyelids moving slightly, no doubt he was dreaming about something. Probably a ball of yarn. She giggled softly.

Looking at his face she knew now. She used to think it was impossible, impossible that she could fall in love with anyone other than Adrien. And Chat no less, he had always been out of the question, it was too risky. But looking at him she knew it was possible, he'd wormed his way into her heart in the future and he'd ultimately done it again. She knew she loved him. She knew it with every fibre of her being that she did. Even if her head refused to listen to her heart it was obvious, it always had been.

Chat Noir. Her goofy partner, her teammate, someone she could count on when she had no one else, someone she knew would be there for her no matter what, someone who helped her protect Paris every single day, someone that brought out a laugh in her she swore no one else could bring, someone who made her mood brighten without even have to say anything, someone who could make her happy when she thinks it's impossible, someone... Someone that she had fallen head of heels for without even knowing it, someone she cherished with everything she had. Someone that she hoped would never leave her side, and someone she wished could stay by her side forever.

So yeah, she understood how he'd done it.

And she understood why she'd fallen, it was inevitable really. No one could change fate no matter how hard they tried, Marinette should have known better because when you're destined to be with someone, the universe will do everything in its power to make it so.

She was his Princess.

And He was her kitty.

To think this all started with a simple note. A simple love note from her Prince Charming.

And classy or not, she was happy to let him climb through her skylight.

#marichat #ladynoir #adrinette #ladrien #mlb #marichat fluff

43 notes · View notes

avengerscompound · 4 years

Text

The Tower: Family - 9

The Tower: Family An Avengers Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Pairing: Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 2443

Warnings: Pregnancy, mentions of past child abuse

Synopsis: With new powers, Thor now living on Earth full time, a wedding to plan, and Natasha and Wanda expecting, a lot is changing for Elly and her large and rather unconventional family. When Elise’s parents try to reestablish connections, Elly questions what being a family actually means.

Chapter 9: Ghost of Family Past

It wasn’t long before I felt settled in the new place. I loved the house out at the compound and I was glad we had it, but it had been so large that it still felt a lot like a hotel to me. This new layout at the tower and the familiarity of being in the place where I’d spent so much time, I felt at home. Not to mention it was nice being in the city again. We could order in food, something that had been impossible out at the compound. It was great having the big meals where we arranged them all by type and then just took what we wanted again. People had gone back to stealing things from each other’s plates. All these little habits that had been a huge part of our collective lives were coming back and I loved it even after a few days.

Things quickly found their rhythm too. Natasha and Wanda’s morning sickness was hitting hard in the morning so they were generally staying home. Wanda was in full nesting mode. She was spending a lot of time with the kids and looking at baby clothes online. Natasha was working in the office, going over mission briefings, and compiling intel. She also was adamant that we did not take the kids out without her, so she would finish work in the afternoons and take them and anyone else that wanted to go to the park and the library for storytime. Her new cloaking powers meant that they were going to be able to live a fairly normal childhood in the end. Or at least, paparazzi free.

I was mostly spending my time between the lab and home and planned to keep it that way as long as I could. So far I wasn’t getting any morning sickness. I was still really only barely pregnant, so all those signs hadn’t kicked in yet, though I was expecting them to start soon. Mostly I was just relaxed and enjoying life returning to normal.

Bucky had booked Tyr and Spotty in to be groomed and the two of us went to take them to the groomers during our lunch break one day not long after getting back. It was the first time I had gone out without Natasha since the wedding and so my first experience with the paparazzi after they got word that I had married Tony Stark.

They had been grouped around the front door and security had to push them back as we made our way out with the dogs. Mostly they were calling out my name and asking about the wedding. Some seemed to be trying to make Bucky angry for some inconceivable reason. Yelling out to him about being a second choice. Luckily he was good at keeping his reactions neutral. He just put his arm around me and pulled me a little closer.

“Should have gone out the back,” I said.

He shrugged. “They’re around there too. Just ignore them. You’re all glowy so the pics are gonna be nice.”

I giggled. “‘Cause that’s what I care about.”

“Just keep walking, don't engage. Security will keep them out of arm's length and if they get past them, they won’t have any arms when I’m done with them,” Bucky said.

“Bucky!” I scolded.

He chucked and rubbed my shoulder. “I was kidding.”

“How long will we have to worry about them?” I asked, looking back over my shoulder at the crowd following after us.

“They’re just greedy ‘cause they don’t get how the wedding thing worked. They’ll get over it soon. It’s not like they’re gonna catch us going out that way very often,” Bucky explained. “If it makes you feel any better, the dogs think they’re fucking annoying too.”

I laughed. “Oh no, babies,” I cooed and reached down and scratched Spotty’s back.

“You better pat Tyr too,” Bucky said. “He’s jealous.”

I bit back more laughter and pet the Cavalier awkwardly as we kept moving.

“Elly!”

The use of my less formal name by someone in the crowd drew my attention and I turned to see who had called out. The voice was familiar too, and yet it wasn’t until I saw who was calling out to me that I recognized who it was.

“Elly, please.” My younger sister was being held back by two security guards, looking at me imploringly. I hadn’t heard from any of my family in years. I had kept in touch with my sisters for a little while after I ran away from home, but when they started dating what my father would have considered the right people and I remained the black sheep. The last time I spoke to any of them was around the time I had been kidnapped by Madame Masque and only then was I calling my father once a month so he wouldn’t send out the police to find me.

“It’s alright,” I said the security. Bucky looked at me confused. “It’s my sister,” I explained quietly as they let her through.

He nodded. “Keep walking,” he said, his voice low and serious.

I started walking again letting Amanda catch up to me. I wasn’t sure what to say to her. Or why she was here. It wasn’t like people hadn’t known where I was for the past six years. I’d been in the media on and off since my first date with Tony.

“Tell us what you want,” Bucky said as she pulled up next to us. There was a growl in his voice. He was angry and protective and worried Amanda was here to hurt me.

“It’s okay, Buck,” I said rubbing his hip. “Let her say what she wants to say.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t keep in touch,” Amanda said.

“I didn’t exactly keep in touch either, Mandy,” I said.

She shrugged a little. “I know but I was the one that stopped first.”

I could feel Bucky tensing more and more as we walked. I slipped my hand into his back pocket and looked up at him. “It’s okay,” I said quietly. He scowled at me and nodded but he didn’t relax at all.

“So… what?” I asked. “You suddenly got into the mood to make amends and you thought rather than calling or reaching out to me online you’d stalk my home?”

“It’s not like that,” Amanda said. “You cut us all off when you started -” she waved her hand in the direction of me and Bucky. “-all of this. We haven’t been able to get through to you.”

“We?” I asked, not sure who exactly she meant by ‘we’. Then the rest of what she’d said sunk in. “Wait… what?”

“Mom and dad. They’ve been trying to get through to you, but they can’t get past your security,” I stopped walking and it took a few steps for either Buck or Amanda to realize I wasn’t with them anymore.

“El?” Bucky said, turning back to me.

“Why wouldn’t I have been told that my parents were trying to get in contact with me?” I asked.

Bucky shook his head. “I don’t know, doll,” he replied. “Would you want them to?”

“I - I -” I shook my head, trying to clear it. My brain was a jumble of thoughts that involved my abusive parents trying to get back into my life and my overprotective spouses not telling me shit that directly involved me again. “How long? When did they first try?”

“We need to keep moving, El,” Bucky said.

“When?!” I shouted. The paparazzi had all started taking pictures in a frenzy like this was the best scoop they’d ever gotten. Bucky moved to me quickly, putting his arm around my waist.

“Come on, darlin’. Not here,” he said quietly.

I nodded and we started walking again. “When was it?” I asked again.

“When they read about the wedding,” she said.

“Oh, that’d be right,” I snarked, rolling my eyes. “And you haven’t thought about me at all? You have a niece and nephew and it didn’t cross your mind.”

“Well, so do you,” Amanda retorted. “You’re hardly in a position to judge me for that.”

“You have kids?” I asked, frowning as I looked her over. She looked a lot like me. Her hair was cut short, in one of those ‘I want to speak to the manager’ styles, and she was dressed in a grey skirt suit. But aside from the styling differences between us, there was no mistaking this woman was my sister.

“Yes, three,” she said. “And so does Olivia, and so does Ian.”

“Right,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

We’d arrived at the dog groomers and Bucky turned to Amanda. “Wait here,” he growled.

Amanda drew herself up, obviously not used to being ordered around by random strangers. “Now listen here…”

“No, you listen to me,” Bucky hissed. “You ambush us while we’re out walking the dogs and you think you get to run the show? I don’t fuckin’ think so. You’re gonna wait here while we drop our dogs off and then we’ll talk.”

Amanda took a few steps back like she was facing a wild animal. Bucky put his hand in the middle of my back and guided me inside. “You okay?” He asked.

“I … I don’t really know,” I admitted. I didn’t know how I felt. It was a mess.

“Tell her to fuck off then,” Bucky said, picking Tyr up and putting him in my arms.

“She wasn’t the one that hit me, Buck,” I said. “She was a kid in that house too.”

“Right,” Bucky huffed. He picked up Spotty and we carried them to the counter. We checked them in and were given some paperwork and a time to pick them back up and Bucky took me aside. “Alright, this is what we’re gonna do. We’ll take her to that bar on the corner. Get something to eat and get to the bottom of why exactly she’s here. Then we’ll get the dogs and go home and you can think about it, alright?”

I nodded. I couldn’t fault the logic. He went to move and I grabbed his arm. “Why didn’t anyone tell me they were trying to get in touch?”

“I don’t know, El,” he said. “I promise if I did I’d tell you. I’m guessing either Steve or Tony said not to let their calls come through, or they just haven’t got that far into the messages while we were away.”

“Right,” I said.

“You can ask them tonight,” he said. “It’s gonna be okay. I promise. I’m here. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

I nodded and we went out to find Amanda. She was waiting with our security detail and Bucky approached her. She took a few steps back, and I saw that same kind of terror in her eyes I always felt when I knew I was in trouble. It made me feel sick and I hurried up to Bucky and took his elbow. “Mandy,” I said quickly. “Can we have lunch? Talk this over?”

Her eyes flicked from Bucky to me and she nodded. “Yes. Yes, please.”

We walked down to the bar in silence, me clinging to Bucky’s hand. We were given a booth in the back and some of the security took a booth near us, while others waited outside. After a quick peruse of the menu, Bucky went to place an order for us. I wanted nothing more than to order a whole tray of shots and just drink myself into a coma, but thankfully rationality won out.

“Ended up with someone just like dad after all, didn’t you?” Amanda snapped when Bucky went to the bar.

“Bucky is nothing like our father,” I hissed, balling my fists under the table.

“Right, looks it,” she snarked.

I clenched my jaw as I tried not to completely lose my temper. I wanted to just yell at her that she didn’t know him and she didn’t know me. That I hadn’t ever felt safer with anyone than I had with the people I was with. But there was no point. She had her idea of what he was like and while he was in angry protective mode, that wouldn’t change.

“Why are you here? Really?” I asked. “And why now?”

Bucky returned to the table with a number, a glass of white wine for Amanda, a beer for him, and a pineapple juice for me. He sat close to me, putting his arm around my shoulders and resting his hand on my hip.

Amanda’s eyes flicked to Bucky and back to me and she let out a breath. “Mom and dad asked me to come. You’d blocked them on most things, and they tried calling the Avengers people, but they weren’t getting through. They want to see you.”

“Over my dead body,” Bucky growled.

“Buck, honey. I really need you to not do that,” I said. He huffed and took a drink of his beer.

Amanda took a sip of her wine and fiddled with the glass. “They did think about it when you were pregnant.”

“But they waited until I got a rich husband, huh?” I snarked.

“They’ve changed, Elly,” Amanda said. “Dad’s mellowed out.”

I shook my head. “Uh-huh. And the fact they’ve chosen now that I’ve married one of the most famous billionaires to get in contact is a coincidence.”

Amanda sagged a little and blinked her eyes. “Elly, I know it was harder for you than the rest of us. I know that when you ran away they just wrote you off. When it came out you were in this big -” she waved her hands again.

“Polyamorous. The word you’re looking for is polyamorous,” I hissed.

“Right, that,” Amanda said. “He completely lost it. Said it was going to look bad on them. That if people found out he’d lose his position.”

“You’re not spinning it in his favor there, Mandy,” I deadpanned.

She sighed. “I know, but… he’s your dad. And they’re your kid’s grandparents. They’re really good grandparents.”

Bucky stiffened up. “If you think for one second, I’m letting my kids near that monster…”

Amanda leaned over the table and put her hand on mine. “Please, Elly. Consider it. For me.”

There was a fear in her eyes and I looked down. There was a thread that joined me to her. It was very faint and hard to see with all the other much brighter ones. I looked at it and I knew… we were family and I was going to have to meet with my parents.

// NEXT

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