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kate837 · 4 years

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I Love You

I completely recommend watching 2x14 Borrow or Rob, and the beginning of 2x15 Draw O Cesar Erase a Coward, before reading this fic. While this fic is AU it does have many similarities and minor details that it couldn't hurt to watch the episode first! Anyways enjoy!!!!!

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Kurt had a day.

Not bad. Definitely not good. Just... A day.

A day he'll never forget actually. It was so full of ups and downs. From Shepherd plunging a knife into Sean's heart, to joking with Jane about whether or not he could handle Rich Dotcom. From shooting Rich to... Jane's date. That hurt. When Shepherd shoved a knife through Sean Clarke, Kurt's adrenaline spiked, he felt so alert for so long, he thought he would throw up. He got the same feeling from Jane. Except it was everytime she moved, spoke, brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, etc. Her admission of her date was too much. Kurt went straight home, got a damp rag, and laid down. Staring at the ceiling.

Though he did have to say, it still wasn't the worst part of his day. He felt bad. Witnessing first degree murder should automatically be the worst part of your day.

But when it comes to Rich.....

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Kurt and Rich were sneaking through the secret underground tunnels of Jamison College, in order to get into the Deadalus gathering.

"This is interesting." Rich says, while coming to a stop.

"What?" Kurt replies shortly.

"Well this is the door, but the handle's different."

"Different how, Rich?!"

"Wel- well it's not there anymore?? Probably on account of all the hookers I snuck in it." Rich gestures to the handless door.

"Ok, so what's behind this door?" Kurt inquires, looking around.

"The closet. What are yo-"

"Stand back."

Kurt, with a running start, kicks the door in to find himself deep within the walls of a massive walk in closet.

"Aaaaa just how I remember it."

"SHHHHH!" Kurt puts his ear to the door, the one still on it's hinges, just in time to hear the gasps of attending guests and a soft female voice hushedly asking someone to notify security of the discrepancy.

"Shit."

"What?" Rich asks, genuinely confused.

"The guests are getting security to come check out 'the noise in the closet'."

"Oh. What are we gonna do Stubbles? I'm a sly guy but how do we explain that?"

"Oh God, why do you hate me?" Kurt says looking towards the ceiling.

"What? You're acting strange Stubbles, like weirder than normal. I mea-"

Rich was cut off by Kurt's large hands cupping both sides of his face, to kiss him. Without separating he backs Rich against a near wall, mimicking the earlier noise. Rich squirmed at first but expectedly went along with the unexpected.

"Come on Stubbles, you can at least use some tongue!"

"Shut. Up." Kurt snarls. "Actually. . . I need you to make some. . . noises." Kurt says while blushing furiously.

"Security is on their way." Tasha notifies through comms.

"Yeah you guys better get out of there." Reade warns.

"And say what? Oh hey haven't seen you in a while, please excuse my entering through a closet?!" Rich whisper-yells.

"Everyone shut up!" Kurt also whisper yells. "Now Rich I need you to moan a lot. Loudly."

"You could always make me Stubbles!"

"Rich!"

"Kurt what the hell are you doing?" Reade asks, growing increasingly concerned about his teammate's mental health.

"Rich just do it!"

"OOOOH! STUBBLES, YES!" Rich practically screams.

The party guests turn a side eye. But the security, like Kurt hoped, were turning away, figuring that the noise came from two enthusiastic partygoers. Or if the other patrons were anything like Rich maybe more.

Of course Weller didn't know that yet.

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"Ohhh. Now i get it, I can't believe this is working." Reade says, half laughing at the ridiculous noises coming out of his earpiece. "Hey Kurt it's work-"

"Will you shut up?!" Tasha butts in.

"What are you tal-"

"He doesn't know that they stood down yet." Tasha says wriggling her eyebrows. "Hey Kurt most of the security guards stood down but you still have a couple incoming. . . You might need to amp it up a bit!"

Her and Reade try and fail to stifle their laughter after Rich let's out a completely overexaggerated 'UNGH'!

"Come on Stubbles, they're not buying it, you're gonna have to join me if you wanna get out of here."

"Why me? God why me?" Kurt says again looking up.

Kurt let's out a loud and breathless 'Oh God' that completely undoes all of Tasha and Reade's composure. They are hysterical by now. They completely lost it when Rich and Kurt started harmonizing!

"Stop! Stop!" Tasha said. "I can't take it anymore." She pulls herself up from the floor of the van, where she fell from laughing so hard.

"Yeah guys, the security's gone. They're long gone." Reade adds, clutching his stomach.

"Yeah Rich so goo- wait what?!"

"Yeah you're clear." Tasha clarifies.

"You could have compromised this entire op!" Kurt says furiously.

"We all know that's not why you're mad Stubbles. And as the bible states-"

"I swear to God Rich, if you say another word I will shoot you."

"Another word."

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Kurt flushed red just thinking about it. What was he going to put in his field report?!

He turned to lay on his side to take in the fresh scenery of the wall instead of the ceiling. After laying there for about two minutes, he finally got up to fix himself dinner.

While gathering ingredients, Kurt's mind inevitably wandered back to Jane's date. Everything about it tore at him. What she'd be wearing, what she'd eat, would she cover her tattoos, would she wear makeup. . . . . . . .

His thoughts were interrupted by a phone call.

It was Jane.

A million questions ran through his head. Why is she calling him? Shouldn't she still be out on her date?

He lunged for the phone but then. . . He stilled. Didn't move a muscle. He picked up his phone, turned it over, and resumed gathering ingredients.

Once the phone eventually stopped buzzing, Kurt's inner turmoil came to play.

'Why didn't you answer?! Jane could be in trouble!'

'Be rational Kurt. She's on a date, probably just calling to let you know that she'll complete her paperwork tomorrow, since she's busy.'

'Look, everyone knows you're in love with her, but you can't act like some overprotective boyfriend whenever she's around.'

Kurt shakes his head. He wasn't in love with Jane Doe. Was he?

'Of course you are! That's why you lunged for the phone as soon as you saw her name, but put it down when you realized she was still on a date.'

'No. If I was in love with her, I would have immediately answered.'

'No. You love her so much that you realized that if she's having fun, even with another man, you wouldn't want to ruin that. That's love.'

'What am I supposed to do? I can't love her from afar.'

'This may be selfish but what if I proposed the idea that Oliver is Sandstorm?'

'It could work. But why not just tell her how you feel?'

"Because I'm just not ready yet." Kurt voiced sadly.

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First thing the next morning, Kurt was walking up and down the hallways, over and over again. In order to 'accidentally' bump into Jane on her way to Patterson's lab.

After three consecutive minutes, Jane appeared. She was wearing this loose, pastel green shirt, that roughly covered all of her upper body tattoos as well as bringing out her eyes. She paired it with tight blue jeans, which she almost never wears, and a few silver rings on her right hand.

"Wow." Kurt whispered. What looked like any other outfit, looked stunning on her. He almost forgot to 'bump' into her.

"Jane!"

"Oh, hey!"

"You get Patterson's text yet?"

"Yeah, heading there now."

They walk in silence for a few heartbeats, until they turn into a secluded hallway.

"Jane wait." Kurt says while gently grabbing Jane's arm.

"Kurt, what is it?"

"After you told me last night, about your date. I started thinking. . ."

Jane subconsciously starts to hold her breath. Her expression wreaks of hope.

"Hey! Glad I found you two, Patterson's got something." Tasha pops in.

"Yeah." Kurt says releasing Jane.

Saved by the bell.

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The debrief, while no longer than usual, felt unbearably long. The charged energy from Kurt and Jane's previous conversation still radiated off of them.

While any hope of continuing it was completely shut down by the tattoo clues pointing to three different entities, causing the team to split up completely. Kurt with Roman, Jane with Tasha, and Patterson with Reade.

This was going to be a longgg day.

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The team finally reconvened at about 5pm. They had just finished the field reports. All three of them. It was exhausting.

Fortunately for Kurt his adrenaline spiked right back up about an hour later when Tasha, so graciously, reminded the group that they never filled out the field report for their Deadalus mission. Which caused Reade and Patterson to burst out into a fit of giggles.

"What's so funny?" Jane asked, looking to Kurt, smiling.

Kurt goes wide-eyed. She doesn't know.

This was going to be a long night.

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The team had just finished catching Jane up while writing the 'going to be extremely redacted' field report.

"Wait I'm still confused. If you just wanted Rich to moan, why did you kiss him?"

All eyes look to Kurt.

"We- well I was under the impression that security was going to be charging through the door at any second." He says glaring at the pair of agents who were strategically avoiding his gaze. "And when they did, if they saw us. . . you know-"

"We don't know, Weller!" Patterson howled.

Kurt glared.

"Yeah I kind of want to know how far you were willing to take it Assistant Director!" Reade joined in.

"We're done here." Kurt said as he walked out.

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Jane had just walked out of the locker room to be met head on with Kurt.

"Kurt, hey!" Jane says, surprised.

"Hey."

"Umm. . . I actually wanted to talk to you."

Kurt raises his eyebrows in obvious confusion, cueing Jane to continue.

"When we were. . . Uh you know- outside of P- Patterson's lab. You didn't finish." Jane stumbles through her words as a new wave of nervousness hits her with full force.

"Oh that." Kurt says, grabbing Jane's arm, mirroring his earlier gesture and leading her away from the locker room door.

"Jane, I was up all night and I couldn't stop thinking about it. We need to be careful. Sandstorm feels like it's everywhere."

"You think Oliver is Sandstorm?"

"Yes. . . No." Kurt shakes his head.

"Kurt you're not making any sense." Jane says studying him.

"I know. I know. I just- no I don't think he's Sandstorm."

"Then why did you-"

"I've been trying to come up with reasons of why you shouldn't date him for the better part of 13 hours."

"Kurt wha-"

"And I got nothing, because the only reason is that I love you."

Jane goes wide-eyed. It was as if all the air was sucked out of her.

"I love you Jane."

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#part two?#ILY #ily #I Love You #im back #blindspot au fics

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sweetest-honeybee · 4 years

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To Hell and Back

Chapter 15

Summary: Hels takes a visit on his own to Beef and things don’t go as he initially planned. Not to mention, he seems to be changing too.

Characters: Helsknight, Beef, Ex mention, Impulse mention, Wels mention

TW: Implied threats

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Less than a week later, Hels had met each and every Hermit on the server- except Beef. He saw their bases, Scar’s village being his personal favorites, and had at least one decent conversation with at least half of them. Others he simply greeted and they had other tasks to perform before they had a chance to get to know him.

It was odd having so many people view him as nothing more than another Hermit. They didn’t fear him in the slightest, not even Stress. Though, he’d admit the little lady was a tiny ball of wrath if you wronged her. But again, he was very soon simply able to visit everyone as he pleased.

With that also came the ability to claim some land to build on. He couldn’t stay in Ex’s base despite the reoccurring offer, the knight needed some privacy at least. He opted for a smaller, similar castle to what Grian had built. Maybe he’d add some of his own touches. Instead of prismarine, he’d use Nether brick, and many decorations revolved around obsidian and basalt.

Unfortunately today, Ex was unavailable to assist him in the beginnings of the castle, but it wasn’t like he practiced a bit in building sometimes. Compared to many of the other residents in Hels, he was one of the better builders. It wasn’t every day people from Hels were visiting the Nether building bastions like he did.

Hels decided about half the size of his reference would be good enough. He didn’t need anything large and luxurious. Just enough for a few farms and storage. The Hermits were nice, but not everyone could just walk on in and use each other’s farms and villagers without paying a price and he had no intentions for IOUs with his immense lack of diamonds.

This wasn’t new to him, at least. In Hels, everyone was greedy and kept to themselves and their farms so he’d always usually build his own. Though, usually it was blown up within a couple days.

Finally, he had a floor plan set up on a hill near Ex’s base. It was funny how many flowers and greenery there was on the outside of it, certainly more than Hels could count just by staring. He had to admit, it was a bit of an eyesore for those who flew by. Ex wasn’t exactly an amazing builder. Hels could still see some dirt blocks hanging around a mile away accompanied by several wool, concrete, glass, cobblestone, brick, and whatever else kind of blocks possibly existed in the game.

Still, he kept to himself for the entire afternoon, not once taking a probably well needed break. That was until he had finished the facade of it. He stepped back and admired his work with a grin. Unfortunately, no other hermits were around to gawk at the detail of it, but he was sure someone would fly by eventually.

With that, he decided he was done for the day. It was the early evening so he could do more, but it could wait. He could find something else to do.

Ex still wasn’t back to check on the knight and Hels never saw the figure of him fly to his own base. He must’ve been quite busy to be gone for that many hours. Whatever Impulse needed him for, it was taking quite a long time. Not that it mattered of course, Hels thought. He was willing to wait.

Alone.

On his front steps.

No other bases around than the empty one a hundred blocks away.

He sighed. Well, that was pathetic- pitying himself. It wasn’t like the other Hermits weren’t almost constantly busy. Even if Ex was finished with his tasks with Impulse, he had every right to go spend time with other people. Not like he hadn’t practically been glued to Hels’s side for the last week.

He stood from the steps and threw on his elytra again. Today, he decided, was the day he’d go back to the sandstone village and greet Beef again. This time not through puffy eyes and heaving breaths. He was Helsknight for crying out loud, he could handle anything. He also just needed something to do.

And yet, the anxiety still stood. Lord only knew what Wels told him and what he probably thought of Hels but considering their last interaction, the butcher most likely had no ill intentions. Like the other Hermits, he treated Hels just the same as he would anyone else.

That was, if he wasn’t stuck on the whole “Wow, I made a clone successfully” thing. Hels wouldn’t have been surprised if the man didn’t poke and prod at him and ask a million questions a minute. Given a particularly invasive recent interaction between himself and Doc, he wouldn’t have been surprised. The old man was more curious than he looked.

With that being said, the knight took a deep breath and lifted off into the sky quickly.

And within a second, he had already forgotten where on earth the little village even was. He groaned and pulled out a map.

Minutes later, he finally made it to his destination. He landed near where they landed the time before next to the library and peeked his head around the corner. What was he hiding from, Hels honestly had no clue. Despite being a couple buildings away, he could hear the whirring of some kind of machinery and a periodic clanking of metal.

Well, better to get it over with now than wait and hide like a coward. Oddly, the thought turned his head to the general direction of where Wels’s base was, but he disregarded it.

The knight peered into the building and watched as Beef replaced several different parts of the machinery. The butcher whistled and hummed while he worked with his back towards Hels. Only after circling the machine did he notice Hels watching while he leaned against the wall. He practically leaped into the machine itself.

“Holy- Jeez! Don’t scare me like that!” Beef laughed. He tilted his head with a confused grin. “You’re the last person I expected to be here.”

“Hm, well, I thought it was about time I came back. You’re the only hermit I haven’t had the pleasure of actually greeting. I also uh...came to apologize for what happened the other day.”

Despite the kind statement, it only made Beef frown, remembering his recent interaction with the other knight. “Wow, you’re….different than I expected.”

Hels cocked his head to the side with a raised brow. “What do you mean? I don’t feel different.”

The butcher rubbed at his neck. “Just nicer I guess? At least nicer than what Wels depicted you to be. Though, given what he’s said to me recently, I think I might know why.”

That only made Hels more curious. “What did he say?” he asked.

“Nothing too bad, I guess. He’s just not him, ya know? More ignorant I would say and...threatening.” Beef sighed through his nose. “Anyways, hope you were okay after the other day. You weren’t looking too hot.”

Now it was Hels’s turn to rub at his neck. “Right, yeah, I am. Village just gave me a scare, iron golems aren’t the nicest.” Too easily, Beef could tell he was lying through his teeth.

“Are you sure? Nothin’ about this machine here?” The knight’s breathing hitched and much to Beef’s surprise, he stammered. This wasn’t the egotistical ignorant knight he had expected from Wels’s descriptions.

“Well I’m- I’m sure that might be one reason,” Hels laughed nervously.

“If I may ask, how’ve you been feeling recently?” Beef stepped closer to Hels, this time with his head lower into a glare. “More emotional?” He stepped again. “Careful?” Step. “A bit more kind?” One more step and he had Hels by the wall. “Not yourself?”

Beef then unsheathed his sword.

“Oh, um- I just-“ The knight kept stuttering and pressing himself into the wall as if Beef was practically a ravager. He was frozen in place. This was it. This was where he’d die and he’d never see Ex again. Bracing for the attack, the knight screwed his eyes shut and ducked his head.

That was until Beef stepped away again with wide eyes. “You didn’t fight back....”

“Wh….” He lifted his head, slowly opening his head. “What?” Hels heaved.

“I was testing something, don't worry.” Beef put the sword back in its sheath. “I was trying to threaten you but you didn’t pull the sword on me.” Reminded of Wels’s current state, he visibly deflated. “Oh this is bad. This is very bad.”

The butcher began to ramble and Hels watched while he paced around the cloning machine. This was utterly confusing, what was he talking about?! Hels just wanted to have a nice conversation.

“Does this have to do with Evil X?!” Beef finally concluded, growing more exasperated.

“I don’t….understand. What’s wrong here? Am I missing something?”

Beef tugged at his hair. “Hels, dude, you’re starting to act like Wels- well- Wels a few weeks ago. I mean he would’ve drawn his sword if someone was threatening him though...” Again, Beef started rambling. “But even then, he wouldn’t resort to immediately attacking, he’d say something to get me to stop, wouldn’t he?”

“Look, I don’t know what happened between you and Wels, but I think I’m gonna go-“ Before Hels could leave, he was grabbed by the wrist.

“Hels, I need you to stay here. Something is wrong with you and Wels, I can feel it.”

Suddenly, Hels seemed quite upset, not hardly trying to escape from the grip around his face. “And why do I need the help when Wels is your friend? I’m just a clone. You can just get rid of me.”

Beef gasped as if Hels said something offensive. “Because I care, Hels! I created you! You’re not just some clone to me!” He deflated and dragged a hand down his face. “I- You’re just important, alright? I created you and- well, you’re sentimental. I just want to help you.” The butcher let go of the knight sadly.

Though, what he didn’t expect was a set of arms to wrap around him tightly.

#my fic #to hell and back #helsknight x evil xisuma #hels x ex #hermitcaft #evil hermits #vintagebeef #helsknight #long post

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pilyarquitect · 4 years

Text

War for Genius - 27 - How deep can injuries be?

Hello everyone! Here I bring you the new chapter!! This one is an emotional one, but it had a special deliver on it that I hope you’ll like.

Also, in this chapter there’s a piece of art related with a scene it appears. This piece of art was done by whisperwillyou on Tumblr if you want to check it. Anyways, I hope I’ll like the chapter 😉

As always, I’d like to thank Empro-8 for helping me editing this story. Honestly, without her help this wouldn’t be as good as it is, so thank you very much Empro-8 you’re amazing!

Welp, I’ll stop talking and let you read the chapter, enjoy it! 😉

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They returned to Duckburg in record time. Launchpad had just finished repairing the plane when they staggered out of the building with an unconscious Huey in their arms. Mark Beaks and Falcon Graves were both securely tied back-to-back and put under Beakley's watchful eye. Seriously, that woman looked like a sergeant. Her gaze was so intense that not even Beaks dared to open his beak.

Fenton noted the state Graves was in. They told him it was Donald who left him in that state after he floated about torturing Huey. Seeing the hawk, a bird much larger than himself beaten so badly made the superhero wonder what would have happened to Beaks if Scrooge hadn't stopped his nephew. After all, the parrot was the one responsibility for all their heartache. He even threatened to kill Huey through a number of slow and painful ways if they didn't let him escape.

During the journey, Gizmoduck was asked to hold Huey, since his suit incorporated cooling functions that would help to lower the poor duckling body’s temperature. It could at least prevent his fever from rising further. Fenton could see how Donald didn’t look away from his nephew for a second, like he was afraid that he would disappear again forever. The Hispanic duck was heartbroken to see Donald like that, and hoped that his mother would never be in the same situation with him… too late for that. His mother had already been in Donald’s position not long too long ago when he was in the hospital.

"We are about to fly over the Duckburg Police Headquarters, we’ll be there in a matter of minutes."

"Oh really? That gives me an idea,” said Scrooge with a smile. He grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and wrote something.

Then approaching the back of the plane, he grabbed something and put it on both villains, it seemed… a parachute? He also put the written note so that it was clearly visible, but couldn’t fall. Next, he tied a rope around his waist and ordered the others to take a seat and buckle up. All except Donald, Scrooge convinced him to do the same he had done. He assured him that he would like what he was about to do.

The next thing the rich duck did was open the plane’s back door while holding his grand-nephew's kidnappers to keep them from flying away.

His last action was to call his nephew over and say:

“Donald? Would you like to do the honors?”

Donald Duck smiled and approached the villainous duo. Grabbing Beaks by the shirt collar, he said:

"This for what you’ve done to my nephew."

He then pulled the ring that opened the parachute and booted them from the plane with a hard kick. The uncles watched with satisfaction as Beaks screamed when he fell, before the parachute caught air and descended right in front of the station’s door. Several officers to immediately came out and grabbed them.

With a smile, Scrooge closed the door again and when he turned and saw the strange expressions, he explained:

“I didn't want them to come with us to the hospital, and I didn't want to stop to drop them off, so I applied the intermediate solution. And the note explains they’re detained on charges of kidnapping, torture and attempted murder and that for more details contact me.”

Fenton was amazed, but he didn't complain. That was the least those two deserved. Without further distractions, they then rushed the oldest triplet to the hospital. When they saw his condition, the doctors immediately took Huey to the intensive care unit to do a thorough examination of his condition and give him the care he needed.

The family was forced to wait outside. Obviously the doctors didn’t let anyone pass while they were taking care of the boy. The family had no choice but to wait anxiously for someone to give them some news regarding Huey.

As they waited, going from one side of the room to the other, Donald turned to the rest and said:

"I want to be by his side when Huey wakes up."

Scrooge shook his head and looking sadly at his nephew, said:

"Sorry lad, I don't think it's the most appropriate."

Before the sailor-clad duck could even open his mouth to reply, Dewey asked:

"Why not Uncle Scrooge? I think Uncle Donald has every right to be by Huey's side when he wakes up. Why shouldn't he be there?”

The other little duck dressed in green, seemed as obfuscated as his brother. It was as if they both wanted to jump on the older duck for saying something like that. If only they knew… Fenton was about to explain what the kids’ great-uncle had meant by those words, but Webby came before him saying:

"Boys, don't be mad at Uncle Scrooge. What he means is that probably the best thing is that none of us here will be by his side when he wakes up."

"What? Why?" the two brothers asked at the same time. Donald seemed to be wondering exactly the same thing.

Fenton sighed and it was he who responded this time explaining:

“While we were looking for Huey, we found a room full of costumes and masks of each one of the members of this family. All obviously worn, there was even a Gizmoduck suit, practically identical to mine. I think… I think they used all that to torture Huey. Making him believe that it was we who did it to him."

The eyes of those who were in the other rescue group widened at those words, and the reactions were not long in coming:

"What?"

"That's horrible!"

Mr. McDuck sighed and then said:

"We know. But not knowing what kind of torture the poor lad was subjected to, seeing any of us when he wakes up, could be… disastrous."

Donald looked at his uncle with a face full of fear and said:

"B-but then what do we do? The last thing I want is for my nephew to wake up among strangers.”

The older duck looked at his nephew with compassion and putting his hand on his shoulder, said:

"I know Donald, but I'm afraid there’s nothing more we can do."

"Or, maybe not..." Webby said suddenly. Everyone turned to look at her, and then Beakley asked:

"What do you mean dear?"

The girl with a bow in her hair turned to look at her grandmother and answered:

"Among all the costumes that were there... there was me, you, Granny, Uncle Scrooge, Donald, Gizmoduck... but none of Fenton. And I think Gyro’s intern is a good friend of Huey’s.”

Fenton opened his eyes in surprise, he hadn’t expected this young girl to know that. Although of course, she seemed to be really perceptive. It was logical to think she had realized something like that. Smiling with some emotion, he asked:

"Do you believe it?"

She turned to look at him and answered:

"I know Huey went to visit a friend at the hospital almost daily, and I think that friend was that duck."

Scrooge smiled then and said:

"That's right lass. I introduced them both myself."

"It's true…" Fenton said in a nostalgic voice. Then he realized everyone was looking at him, cleared his throat and quickly added:

"Er… I heard him comment to Dr. Gearloose."

Scrooge nodded and speaking to everyone present, but specifically to him, said:

"I think that lad could be very helpful to us. Gizmoduck, could you go to Gyro's lab and bring him please?"

Fenton smiled and quickly replied:

"On my way, Mr. McDuck. "

He then left the hospital and pretended to leave, waited a while, and re-entered the hospital in his civilian form, claiming he had been informed of the situation and was delighted to be able to assist in whatever was necessary.

**************************************

The constant noise from the machines was all that could be heard in the room, Huey had been connected to several of them to keep his constants under control and make sure everything was going well. When the doctors managed to stabilize the duckling, they informed the family and moved him to a room. Fenton immediately went with him and stayed there while Scrooge and Donald talked to the doctor, who informed them the full extent of the physical damage, there was a significant probability the boy would also suffer psychological damage.

Apparently, this worried the doctor a lot, especially when he learned the details of what had probably been done to the boy. The doctor immediately suggested that Huey would need several tests when he woke up, something to which Mr. McDuck and his nephew completely agreed with. He also encouraged them, if the boy desired, to be one of the first people he saw when he woke up. That part especially pleased Donald, since the poor duck feared how long he would have to wait to see his nephew again.

Fenton sighed, the poor boy was lying down, but half incorporated (just as he was when he was hospitalized) probably to facilitate his breathing. He had several electrodes spread across his chest to monitor his heart rate, some more electrodes on his head to monitor his encephalogram. He also wore an oxygen mask over his beak, thus ensuring the boy received all the oxygen necessary to breathe. A band on his arm monitored his blood pressure intermittently. And an intravenous line had been placed in his other arm to supply him with the liquid, food, and medication the boy might need.

Huey had already been in those conditions for three days. During that time, as is logical, the police, his mother among them, contacted Mr. McDuck to ask him for details about everything that happened. The rich duck told them everything he knew. Informed them of the place where they had kept the boy captive, the state he was in when they rescued him… well, everything.

In those three days as well, Huey's fever had subsided, and although his temperature was still perhaps higher than it should be, it was no longer in those same high temperatures when they found him.

The Hispanic duck looked at the boy sadly. Since they moved the boy from the ICU, he hadn't separated from Huey for a second. He knew that his family was outside, waiting for Huey to wake up, from time to time one of them, especially the children, poked their heads to see if there had been any change. But so far there had been no such luck, no, the poor boy-

Huey's breathing hitched suddenly, and almost instantly the boy began to jerk. The heart rate machine indicating that his pulse had quickened. It seemed… as if he was having a nightmare, which had happened several times during those days. It took just a moment for Fenton to stand beside him, trying to calm him down. Placing a hand on his cheek, he did something his mom had done to him when she wanted to calm him down. He began gently rubbing his thumb in circles while saying:

"Huey, calm, calm, it's not real."

Little by little the duckling relaxed, which for Fenton was a relief. The Hispanic duck was about to relax when he suddenly saw the boy's eyelids begin to tremble. That caused Fenton to withdraw his hand in surprise, could it be…? Could it be Huey was waking up at last?

Slowly, very slowly, the boy's eyes began to open. He quickly closed them again, probably due to excess light. But they reopened again. Huey looked confused, as if he didn't know where he was, and it was logical. The only thing the boy had seen in the past weeks was the interior of that identical building to Waddle. Or, he had probably only seen the inside of that room which they had kept him locked up in.

Suddenly, the boy's gaze went to him. The boy narrowed his eyes for a moment and then his eyes widened in surprise. Fenton couldn't say for sure, but he thought he saw a gleam of joy in his gaze. The boy tried to sit up a little more, which after a little effort he managed. All without taking his eyes off the adult duck.

"F-F-Fenton?" Asked the boy hoarsely. Probably as a mixture of the lack of use, the disease and the constant pumping of dry air in his airways.

The Hispanic duck rushed to his side and replied:

"Yes, yes Huey, it's me. I'm here. I'm with you."

Huey looked around. He seemed puzzled. Looking back at the Hispanic duck, he asked, or at least tried to ask:

"W-where…?"

Fenton assumed the boy wanted to know where he was, so he explained:

"You are in the Duckburg hospital. You had been unconscious for three days."

Huey widened his eyes. After swallowing, asked again:

"And where is… Mark?"

The brown plumage duck raised an eyebrow, he didn’t understand why the boy had called that parrot by his first name, but still, he replied explaining:

"He can't hurt you anymore, neither can Graves."

Again, Huey's eyes widened in surprise first, and then he lowered his head looking away when he asked with some disappointment in his voice:

"R-really?"

"Absolutely." Fenton replied. The truth, he was concerned that Huey seemed to regret he wouldn’t see Beaks again. It was as if the boy really wanted to see him. As if, as if… he… wanted to be… at his side… that must be because of brainwashing, surely.

Argggg, it was clear Huey would need some time to recover. But in order to do so, the first thing he needed was to see his family, so, looking at the boy again, he smiled softly and said:

"Listen Huey… your family is here."

Huey looked at him again, and this time, Fenton detected anxiety on his face. This wasn’t good. How deep was the damage done to the boy? The Hispanic duck saw Huey's beak shake before he managed to ask:

"My family?"

The machine beside him indicated that his heart rate had increased.

Oh, oh, that wasn’t a good sign, he had to calm him down! Putting both hands on his shoulders, the adult duck assured the older triplet:

"Easy, Huey, easy, it’s nobody in disguise. They’re your real family. They’ve missed you all this time, they are very worried about you and they’re also eager to see you. Do you want to see them?"

Fenton's words seemed to calm the altered duckling. The older triplet took several deep breaths and finally, in a voice… more or less normal, finally said:

"No, I mean… yes… I-I guess so. I-I really want to see them, it's just that…"

"Do you need a little time?" guessed the Hispanic duck. Huey looked down and slowly nodded, letting Fenton know he was right.

The older duck sighed and calmly said:

"Okay… I'll go warn them and I'll be right back, okay?"

"Okay…" Huey replied looking at him again. Then followed him with his eyes as Fenton headed for the door. When he got there, the Hispanic duck turned to look at him, and asked him:

"Shall I tell them to wait ten minutes?"

The brown plumage duck waited while the boy considered it for a moment until he finally replied:

"Yes… I think… I think it will be enough."

Fenton nodded and left the room, as expected, was soon approached by family members. He relayed to them what had happened. How Huey had woken up. His reactions to mentioning Beaks and mentioning them and how he had also agreed to be seen.

Since the boy had asked for a ten-minute wait, Scrooge considered they could take advantage of that time to notify the doctor that his nephew was conscious and explain what had happened. Everyone agreed with that. So, after finishing speaking, Fenton entered the room again while the others went to notify the doctor.

Once inside the Hispanic duck took a seat in the chair next to the bed, it didn't take long to see that Huey seemed to be nervous. Something demonstrable by the slightly accelerated pulse, his breathing a little panting and the appreciable tremor in his closed hands. Poor Huey… truth be told, the adult duck didn't know what to do or say to calm him down. He chose to tell him everything was going to be okay, but when he opened his beak to speak, Huey did it before:

"Fenton…"

"Tell me Huey." said the Hispanic duck almost immediately.

The older triplet looked him in the eye, there was uncertainty and fear in them. Then speaking tremblingly, he asked:

"Could you… could you take my hand when they come in, please?"

Fenton was surprised at that request. Why was he asking him something like that? Was he so scared to see his family again? Well, at least… that he agreed to see them was already a big step for him, so the brown plumage duck nodded and replied:

"Of course."

The older triplet breathed a sigh of relief, closing his eyes momentarily, when he opened them again, he looked at Fenton again with pleading eyes and said:

"Whatever happens, please don't let me go."

Fenton put his hand on the trembling duck's forearm and said:

"I promise I won't."

Huey smiled gratefully at Fenton's promise. But the smile quickly faded when knocks sounded on the door.

The boy knew it.

The time had come.

**************************************

Okay… I know this chapter was… wow, I really liked write it from Fenton’s POV, what do you think about it? Did you like it? Also, what do you think about Scrooge’s special deliver? I thought it’d be funny to put something like this. And Webby? She really is a very perceptive person, and her idea probably helped them all with Huey’s situation. Welp, as always, I’d like to hear what do you think about this chapter.

Okay, after say that, I really hope you all enjoyed this chapter, I also would like to thank to all the people who’d read this story, the ones who commented, those who reblogged it and: @mysteriouswriter72 @elianemariane17 @araminakilla20 @hakuneki07 @i-cant-find-any-creative-name @gizmovi @some-dum-wizard-bitch @infamousquack @margaretnobbs @alphatheplant @sugerheart @squackcrowquack @nsbfenro @marshmeadow12 @ohgeeeznotagain @constellations1 @isabellanajera @you-big-palooka @deathcat003 @dragonsareawesome123 @via15 @wellshit333 @ninjawarrior100 @your-salty-dorito @rowan-npg @thesuperepicawesomefireninja @duckworth-is-love @worldsbesteagle @shaz231 @cherriesandpoison @softlemonboi @rosebu-uds @mulaneysnl @ihavenonamehalp @drummergirl231 @narnour-momo-007 @via15 @trash-queen-fahey @gamerfansims389 @lesbianz4glomgoldje @jessie-00 @maclove54north @northofanvi @maditheanimaniacuwu @gabrielpainterfest-blog @Variousfandompage @whiteeyesandtina @official-toebeans @r6sedust @gabrielpainterfest @obsessionhell @werdna213 @chydesa-star @a-stupid-girl

And if I’ve forgot someone, I’m sorry

I want to give a special thank to @whisperwillyou for the art that appears in this chapter, I’ve also leave you the link here

See you in the next chapter 😉

https://whisperwillyou.tumblr.com/post/189357684971/commission-for-pilyarquitect-a-scene-from-their

#ducktales 2017 #war for genius #GizmoDuck #Fenton Crackshell Cabrera #scrooge mcduck #donald duck #bentina beakley #launchpad mcquack #Dewey Duck #Louie Duck #Webby Vanderquack #mark beaks #falcon graves #Huey Duck unconcious

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hollandspiderling · 5 years

Text

Pillow Talk

Summary: Pillow Talk | n. Sweet and inviting talk that really has no point. Doesn’t have to be sexual nor follow anything sexual; intimate talk between lovers while lying in bed.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader (Uni!AU)

Warning: None, just plain old fluff.

Word Count: ~3.5k

Author’s Note: Here is another one-shot that I couldn’t help myself with writing. I found it in one of my old archives on a website I used to write on and wanted to revamp it. Also imagining just being all soft and cute with Tom makes my heart melt, hope you guys enjoy reading this! xoxo, Astrid.

‘Another tiring day done…’

You smiled to yourself as you put away the last dish in the cupboard before stretching your arms. The faint sound of the shower could be heard as you leisurely made your way towards the master bedroom. A contented sigh escaped your lips as you mentally gave yourself a pat on the back for accomplishing the goal that you’ve had for a while. Ever since you and Tom decided to move in together, you promised yourself that you’d become a better cook for him. When you guys first started dating during your first year of university, you weren’t that great of a cook but being the gentleman that he was, Tom always gave you high praises for your first attempts. Three years later and with his request of moving in, you took it upon yourself to sign up for cooking classes in your spare time as well as watching YouTube videos to follow. And once you saw the twinkle in his eye and the way he ate your food with much gusto that night, you knew that your hard work finally paid off.

As you entered your shared bedroom, you untied your hair that was in a bun and ran your fingers through the tangles. Music could be faintly heard in the bathroom as Tom continued taking a shower and you hummed along to the tune. You did your usual nightly facial routine before changing into a loose V-neck and a pair of Tom’s boxers. A giggle escaped your lips as you listened to your boyfriend sing along to Umbrella by Rihanna. You rolled your eyes as you made sure your things were ready for work the next day thinking to yourself, ‘As much as he says he hates Umbrella ever since he did the lip sync, that boy still loves to sing along to that song.’ Slipping underneath the white covers, you plugged in your phone into its charger as you heard the shower stop along with his music playing from his phone. The door opened and his familiar scent of Old Spice filled the bedroom as he rustled around for clothes.

Setting down your phone on the bedside table, you turned around and smiled at him. Tucking your hands underneath the pillow you were lying on; you admired your boyfriend’s toned body. His boxers hung low to the point where you could see the slight dent of the dimples on his back as well as how toned the muscles of his back were due to constantly working out. He dried the curls you loved to run your hands through with the towel that was hanging around his neck and you didn’t flinch when he turned around to find you staring at him. Tom smirked lightly as he playfully winked at you.

“Admiring what you see?”

You laughed and threw his pillow at him. “What can I say? You’ve been getting more toned every time I see you. I can’t help but admire the progress.”

“You have to thank Harrison for asking me to gym with him. The guy never knows when to let me breathe.” Tom chuckled as he slipped on a pair of sweats.

“Remind me the next time we all come together for dinner. I’ll definitely have to give him my thanks for making sure you are in tip-top shape.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, darling? I wasn’t at my best shape, before?” he joked, tossing his pillow that fell onto the floor back at you. He gave you a pout and you playfully shook your head.

“You know that’s not what I meant, Tommy. I’ll love you in any shape or form. But that V-line is getting more and more defined every time I see you.” You teased and playfully wriggled your eyebrows at him. You laughed as you hugged the pillow he threw at you. Tom quirked an eyebrow at you as he stopped drying his hair and said, “Y/F/N, keep looking at me like that and you will be getting tickled once I’m done here. Never ever give me such a cringey face again.”

Jokingly mimicking back what he said to you, you laughed and motioned for him to sit on the bed you shared before getting up from your position. You grabbed the towel and began to softly finish drying his hair for him. Tom closed his eyes and leaned into your warmth. A contented sigh left his lips as he turned his head and softly kissed the inside of your wrist before crossing his arms over his chest.

“You are such a dork, love; I sometimes catch myself asking why I’m with you.” He jokingly murmured.

You tugged on his hair lightly and smiled in victory as you saw him wince. “Well I guess you’re stuck with a dork who is the only one that is able to nerd out with you. You’re stuck with me babe.”

He smiled at your words and melted inside when you pecked his cheek and patted his shoulder. Tom would never get tired of your company and it’s these times that you guys had to yourselves that kept him going when things at work got tough. A moment of comfortable silence fell upon you two as you enjoyed each other’s presence. You peppered his face in kisses before moving away and lightly slapped his shoulder.

“Alright, now finish up because I’m getting lonely here.” You giggled.

Tom groaned as he lazily got off the bed and began to make his way back to the bathroom. He turned around and winked at you. “Don’t miss me too much, I’ll be back love.”

“Don’t worry, I’m more than comfy here on this bed. But if you do take too long, then I might just knock out before you.”

You shook your head in amusement as you heard him laugh and stuck his tongue out at you before disappearing into the bathroom. Falling onto your back, you stared at the ceiling as you waited for Tom to finish getting ready for bed. You still couldn’t believe that your relationship was still going strong despite all that you’ve been through. Your friends and the people around the both of you claimed that you guys wouldn’t make it due to your busy schedules because a lot of couples would often not make it through their first year of university. Your orbits never met unless it was with your friends on the weekends when everyone was free, but other than due to being in two different majors, it sometimes got hard to make time for each other. But in the end, you proved everyone wrong by going strong all throughout your college careers and finally moved in together after landing stable jobs.

Four years and it still feels like we just began dating…

Your eyes traveled to the picture that was sitting on your dresser. It was a photo that the two of you took when Tom surprised you with a trip to London on your third-year anniversary. You were in the midst of laughing as you held onto your cardigan and his arm was slung over your shoulder. You smiled to yourself as you remembered that you were walking along the bridge across the river when all of a sudden Tom surprised you from behind before kissing your temple and took the picture. On the back of it, Tom had written a heartfelt message to you once it was developed, promising that he’d never hurt you and one day make you his wife.

“Falling asleep on me, already?”

You looked over your shoulder to find Tom smiling down at you as he joined you under the covers. You shook your head and nodded towards the photo you were looking at.

“Nah, I was reminiscing our London trip.”

Tom’s arms automatically wrapped themselves around your frame, bringing you closer to him. Spooning her, he nuzzled into the crook of your neck and hummed in happiness as he remembered your trip as well. You closed your eyes as you relaxed in his embrace, both of you wrapped up in your own world.

“It was a great trip, wasn’t it? I feel like that was what solidified everything between us.”

You felt him nip your neck lightly and you slapped his arm playfully. “You’re such a div.”

He let out a husky laugh and said, “I wasn’t referring to our last night, but besides that wonderful event and constantly hearing my name from you, it was the most that we got to spend time with each other. It was a whole week, just the two of us, with no one to disrupt our time together.”

You hummed in agreement before turning over and snuggling deeper into his embrace. Your legs became entangled with each other as you laid your head in the crook of his neck. You traced the outline of his collarbone and he began to play with your hair. A comfortable silence fell onto you two as you enjoyed each other’s presence after a long day. It was true that your London trip was the most that you spent time together. Your schedules were demanding, and you were only to spend one to two days together when it was during the holidays. The only reason why you kept so strong with Tom was because of your constant communication with and faith in each other.

“My favorite part was seeing your flustered expression when I dragged you with me when I was bikini shopping.” You murmured as you smiled to yourself.

Your mind flashed back to when you realized that while you were packing in haste, you had forgotten to pack a swimsuit. After a little bit of convincing, you dragged Tom out with you because he also ended up needing to get some stuff on the way anyways. Once you reached the store, Tom’s expression will forever be kept in your mind. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights with his eyes wide and constantly moving around when he followed behind you. Tom had his hand covering the lower half of his face when they were in the store and the light tint of red that could be seen on his cheeks made him so adorable to you.

He pouted slightly as he remembered and poked your cheek. “The only person that I’ll admire is you and seeing all those kinds of revealing clothing with other women in the store, I didn’t know how to act.”

Tapping his nose, you chuckled and said, “Well you looked quite adorable, just like an innocent child.”

“I can’t help it if my mother raised me right.”

“She definitely raised a wonderful gentleman.”

Tom smiled as he warmly looked down at you. Pecking you on the lips lightly Tom tightened his grip around you. “God, what did I do in my previous life to deserve you?”

Moving onto his back, he pulled you on top of him. You rested your palms on his chest as you looked down at him. Tucking a couple strands behind your ear, he gave you a tender gaze.

“I’m serious Y/N, I hope you always remember you’re the best thing that has happened to me. I’m going to make sure I marry you.”

“You said those exact words when we were at London. You even wrote it on the back of the picture.”

“I did, didn’t I? When we do get married, what kind of wedding are you hoping for?”

“That is if I actually do end up marrying you, Thomas Stanley Holland.”

Tom faked a gasp and immediately flipped you both over. He huffed as he caged you with both of his arms on either side of your head. “Don’t be so mean, sweetheart. No matter what, you’re going to be stuck with me because you’ve stolen my heart since day one.”

“You’re such a cheeseball.” You murmured as you caressed his face.

Leaning into your touch, he hummed in agreement. “You’re the only one that can make me feel like this, darling. But I’m serious though, what is your dream wedding?”

You pursed your lips in thought as you wracked your brain for an answer. With how busy your life was, you never really thought about what you wanted for in a wedding. Now that you were twenty-four, it did make sense that it should be something you should start thinking about.

“I guess maybe…a garden wedding? I don’t know, I’ve never really thought about this. But I do know that I don’t really want it to be that grand of a wedding. I just want family and close friends to be attending.”

“A garden wedding? I can see that considering how much you love roses.”

You chuckled as he pecked your lips and rolled onto his back. Turning onto your side to face him, you comfortably set your head onto his arm and smiled. “I’ve loved them ever since you gave one to me when you asked me out.”

“I was pretty smooth, wasn’t I?”

You scrunched up your nose in thought as he looked at you from the corner of his eye before staring at the ceiling. Running a hand through his hair, you gave him a look before saying, “Right, so hesitating in front of me for a good couple of minutes before saying everything in one quick go was smooth. I was so caught off guard when you suddenly pushed the flower into my hands. But…it was pretty sweet that our class’s heartthrob actually wanted me as his girlfriend.”

“Of course, I wanted you. Didn’t you know you were one of the most highly sought girls at that time?”

You shook your head and shrugged. “How could I pay attention to that when a certain someone was always trying to steal my attention? As much as I wanted to hide from all the attention you brought along, everything worked out, in the end, didn’t it?”

“Exactly. Now let’s fast forward a bit, if we were to start a family, how many kids would you want?”

“Two, but I really hope it’s a boy first and then a girl.”

Tom smiled in amusement and leaned in to peck your forehead. “You didn’t hesitate with that question, sweetheart.”

“Ironic isn’t it? I didn’t know what I wanted for a wedding, but I knew exactly how many kids I wanted.” You replied and looked up at him before you both laughed.

He shook his head and began to trace random patterns on your arm. “I think it’s cute of you. I’m assuming you want a boy first so we can raise him up to be a gentleman and a protector for our future little girl.”

You nodded and smiled warmly, “Growing up, it was only me and my older sister. But despite how much I love her and look up to her, there was always this part of me that wished to have an older brother to protect me and be close with.”

“Well, now you have your own protector who’s willing to stay by your side forever.”

You softly gazed at him and pecked his jawline. “Of course, and I’ll always be thankful to have you in my life.”

Tom wriggled his eyebrows playfully and asked, “What about their names?”

“I’m not sure, whenever I think about baby names, I always tend to change my mind. So, I was thinking of just naming them when they’re born, y’know?”

“Understandable. Just imagine Y/N, we’ll have our own house and two little kids constantly running around. It’d be paradise, don’t you think?”

You snuggled closer to him and hummed in agreement. “Everything will finally fall into place, Tommy. But I’m fine with the here and now as well. With you by my side, I feel like anything is possible.”

You felt Tom chuckle and tenderly kissed your forehead. “That’s supposed to be my line.”

Smiling slightly you savored the warm feeling of his kiss and said, “I guess when it’s two in the morning, your cheesiness begins to rub off me, babe.”

“Are you getting sleepy?”

You shook your head and said, “Now it’s my turn. You never told me or maybe I don’t remember. What got you to fall for me in the first place?”

“You probably won’t even remember what I’m going to tell you because our first moment together was really short.”

You gave him a questionable look and Tom smiled down at you. “It was actually before we officially met each other.”

He pulled the blanket over you guys and changed your position, so you were laying your head on his chest. As he remembered your first encounter, he lovingly ran his fingers along your back.

“It was the day where they welcomed all the freshmen to recognize their achievement of getting in and for choosing our university. You were with your friends and I was with mine, but I managed to bump into you when we were getting lunch in front of the rec center. At first, I thought you were going to go off on me for not watching where I was going, but you simply brushed it off and gave me a smile that I’d never forget. Before I had the chance to introduce myself, Harrison had popped up behind me and dragged me away.”

You tried remembering the memory and your eyes widened in realization. “That was you?!”

Tom laughed and nodded. “I guess I was lucky when Haz grew a crush on one of your friends or else our groups wouldn’t have intermixed and we wouldn’t have met.”

“I still can’t believe you have all that mush inside of you, Tommy. You’re the physical representation of a guy who fell in love at first sight.”

“I only show these sides of me to those who deserve it and you most definitely do, because you’re mine. You’re the only woman who managed to make me feel attracted to and fall for you Y/N Holland.”

“Y/N Holland?”

“What? I can’t get an early start of calling you, my wife?”

You laughed as he began to pepper your face with kisses, and you managed to hold his face in your grasp.

“It has a nice ring to it… I like it.” You softly replied and planted a kiss on his nose.

“It’s going to be your surname in the future, so you better get used to it.” He smiled.

Meeting his tender gaze, you couldn’t help but kiss him. You both smiled against each other’s lips as Tom brought you even closer to him. Letting go of your kiss, Tom rested his forehead against yours and caressed your cheek.

“Y/F/N, I love you.”

“I love you too, Thomas Stanley Holland.”

His gaze softened as he watched you sleepily rub your eyes. “We should get some sleep, baby girl.”

You whined as you clung to him and said, “But I want to keep talking…we haven’t gotten a moment like this in a while.”

“We’re living together, love. We’ll have many more moments like this, but it looks like you’re going to fall asleep any second now.”

“Ugh I hate it when you’re right.”

Tom laughed and kissed your pout before bringing the blanket up to your chin. “Well I love it when you get adorable like this.”

“Good night, Tommy…” she murmured.

He watched as you curled up against his side and smiled sleepily. Swiping a stray strand of hair away from your face, Tom leaned down and lovingly kissed your temple.

“Sweet dreams, darling.”

Smiling to himself, he watched his angel fall asleep. Once your breathing slowed down, he carefully moved onto his back and turned attention towards his bedside table. As best as he could without waking you up, Tom opened the top drawer and took out a small satin pouch. Setting it on top of his chest, he opened it up and took out the velvet container. He looked at you once more and bit his bottom lip. With his right hand, he opened up the small box and admired the silver diamond ring that sat inside.

At the moment, you each had a ring on your pointer finger. It was a promise ring that he had gotten for you both on your second-year anniversary and now that he felt like the moment was approaching soon, Tom had to be prepared. The following day was the day he was going to set his plan in action, and he wouldn’t keep you waiting for long. Every fiber in his body knew that you were the one. His boys were all ready to help and your friends were already growing in excitement when he told them the week before. Now with you in his arms, the time will come.

Soon, he’ll ask the love of his life to marry him.

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland smut #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x fem #tom holland x you #tom holland x fem!reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland one shot #uni!tom

339 notes · View notes

broadwaycutie16 · 4 years

Text

Jerk in Sheep’s Clothing Chapter 1

Marinette's feet felt as heavy as stone as she trudged up the sidewalk towards the school. A month ago, her feet felt light and airy whenever she started walking to her first class. She used to look forward to girl talk with Alya and the others, mooning over Adrien, and what other wonderful surprises the day had in store for her. But ever since Lila had returned to school and gotten the class under her spell, Marinette never knew whether she would spin another tale and make everyone mad at Mari.

It was taking all of Marinette's strength to keep things as calm and neutral between her and her friends as possible. She had been trying desperately to relieve some of the tension with only some success. But no matter how tense things were between them, they were still her friends.

Besides, Marinette could not blame them entirely for believing Lila's wild tales. As much as she hated to admit it, the Rossi girl had had a valid point—people believe what they wanted to believe. After all, Marinette had only seen through her lies because of her most infamous fibs of being besties with Ladybug—who was secretly Marinette. If Lila had not unknowingly lied about Mari, would the pigtailed girl have been onto her in the first place?

At first, she had been upset at Adrien for not helping her expose Lila. But soon, she remembered Gabriel, and how he had raised his son to obey without protest, to always been seen and not heard. Marinette could not blame Adrien for following his upbringing, no matter how abusive it was. Victims of those things applied that knowledge to everyone they came in contact with.

As such, Marinette knew that all she could do was hold on and hope, hope, hope with all her heart that sooner or later, the class would see through Lila's ridiculous stories. Because that's what friends did, even if things had been rather one-sided lately. She believed in them. Amd nothing could deter her from that belief.

In her deep trance of thoughts and fears of what drama the day might bring, Marinette did not notice a rock in her path, not until it was too late. The next thing she knew, she was jerked from her train of thought and went stumbling forward. She shut her eyes tight, preparing to feel the hard slap of concrete against her face. But it never came.

It was only moments later that she felt two strong hands on her arms, holding her up. Slowly, she opened her eyes to see a handsome face. The features were chiseled, coated in smooth, tan skin. The eyes were a rich cocoa brown, matching the color of his smooth, shiny hair, slicked back into a feathered style. The half-smile he wore on his face, showing his pearly white teeth, would make any girl swoon.

After a moment, he spoke, his voice deep and charming. "I know we just just met, but no need to fall for me."

Marinette laughed, half at the joke and half at their awkward meeting, as she pulled herself to an upright standing position. "Sorry about that.", she said, tucking some stray hairs behind her ear nervously.

The boy waved it off. "No problem. I'm flattered. Its not everyday that I literally bump into a pretty girl."

That made Marinette's face turn red as her Ladybug costume. They had only just met less than a minute ago, and he had already made a pass at her, and called her pretty. And she thought Chat Noir was forward.

The boy thrust his hand out towards her. "Henri LeRoi."

She smiled and shook his hand. "Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

His brown eyes grew wide. "Marinette...lovely name. Just rolls off the tongue."

He said it again, slower and softer this time. "Marinette...its beautiful. But hey...I can't expect less from a beautiful girl."

Now her awkwardness factor had been pumped up to eleven. She looked away, fiddling with her pigtails. She had just been promoted from pretty to beautiful in a matter of seconds. This boy definitely knew how to make a girl blush, as proven by the dark crimson color the skin on her face had taken on.

"So...I better get to Francois Dupont..."

Henri smile brightened. "What a coincidence! I'm starting there today!"

She looked back, matching his grin. "Really? That's great! That means we'll be seeing more of each other!"

"Might I be so bold as to escort you onto the premises?", he asked, in a teasing tone.

Marinette giggled at his hoity play accent and replied, "T'would be my honor, Mousier LeRoi."

And with that, they linked arms and went marching into the school. Marinette's heart suddenly felt much lighter than it had in weeks. --------------- Lila Rossi finished gathering her things from her locker when she noticed Marinette enter the room. Lila always had a sixth sense for when her foe walked in. But the thing that really caught her attention was that the rival was on the arm of a really good-looking dude. He was tall and muscular and dressed fashionably, and he and Marinette were laughing, like they had known each other forever.

"Seriously? You're in Madame Bustier's class, too?"

"It'll be so great to have you there! I'll save you a seat, kay?"

The new boy smiled at her charmingly. "Kay. See ya in class, cutie."

And he winked and shot her finger guns. Imagine Lila's surprise when Marinette giggled as she skipped off to class. Oh, no. She wasn't going to let Marinette have that boy as a friend or anything else. She didn't get that. Time for another play of the victim card.

Once she was certain Marinette was gone, she snuck up next to the boy and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around, and Lila put on her best pitiful face.

"Hey...I saw you talking to Marinette. I know she might seem nice, but there's something you should know about her..."

To her surprise, Henri didn't let her get another word in. "Save it. I know about you, Lila. Marinette told me all about you. How you're lying to everyone, trying to turn them all against her."

Lila fumed. The class had listened to her stories. Why wasn't this boy?

"Whatever she's said about me, its not true! She's the one bullying me! She hates me for no good reason! She's just jealous that I've done all these awesome things, meeting princes and rockstars and seeing the world for the past year, and she's just a dumb baker girl!"

Henri raised his eyebrows. "Really? You traveled the world? Because last I checked, your mom hasn’t left Paris in a year."

Lila's face paled. How had he known that? "How...How did you..."

"I looked you up on social media when Marinette mentioned you.", he said, stroking his chiseled chin with a devious smirk. "Didn't find any profiles matching you, but I did find your mom’s official webpage on the site for the embassy she works at. I know its her because she mentioned you were her daughter and posted the occasional childhood photograph of you on the family tab. But the embassy rules on the website clearly state that the members aren’t allowed to take their kids with them on foreign missions. I wonder...if she didn’t take you, where have you really been all that time? Maybe I should go to the address on her profile and ask her. Tell to check in with the school, just to be safe..."

Never, in all her weeks of careful planning and manipulations, had Lila been so terrified. This new boy saw through her ruse. What's more, he held the keys to her demise. This was something that she had been dreading since she returned to school, yet had hoped and prayed would never happen. Her whole world was threatening to crumble right before her very eyes.

But before she lie her way out of her situation, or at the very least, get on her knees and beg him not to follow through on his threats, promising him anything under the sun if he only kept her secrets, the new boy surprised her by simply saying, "But instead, I'll make you a little bargain."

Lila blinked twice, confused with this sudden and unexpected turn of events. "Pardon?"

The new guy folded his arms over his chest, leaning in towards her, speaking softly so their conversation would not be overheard by unwelcome. "Here's the deal...you keep playing that little game of yours, and I'll keep my mouth shut. What's more, I'll steer her clear of her friends...especially that Adrien guy."

Lila blinked again. A minute ago, this guy had been threatening to expose her to the world. Now, not only was he promising to keep silent for her, he was offering to keep Marinette away from her friends, leaving them all to herself. Lila's one eyebrow and suspicions rose. "What's the catch?"

”No catch.", he said. "Just keep doing what you're doing. This way, you can have your crowd of admirers without any interference...and I get Marinette all to myself. Everybody wins."

It all clicked in Lila's mind. So that was his angle. He figured that if all of Marinette's friends were against her, he would have no problems keeping her all to himself, like a dragon hoarding treasure. Of course, when someone offers to not only keep your darkest secrets, but also help you carry on your charade of being special, you don't pass it up. A part of Lila was disappointed that she had failed to turn the boy against Marinette, but she figured it was a worthy sacrifice if it meant no more pigtail girl trying to expose her.

So, she smiled wickedly and said, "Deal." And they shook on it before parting ways. ---------------- Adrien walked into the classroom, double-checking that all of his school supplies were in order, when he looked up and saw Lila sitting in Nino's seat. Nino and Alya followed in after, seeing what their friend saw.

"Oh, is your tinnitus acting up again?", asked Alya.

Lila nodded. "Sadly, yes. But don't worry about Marinette. She'll be just fine." She jerked her thumb behind her, and all three looked towards the back row.

There was Marinette, sitting there, only she did not see any of them. She was too engrossed in a conversation with a boy that they did not recognize, with dark hair and dark eyes and a smile on his face.

"His name's Henri. He just transferred here.", explained Lila. She eyed Adrien with a mean smile. "They look pretty cozy, don't they?"

Nino shrugged. "Well, long as she's got company, I guess it'd be okay for me to sit in her seat."

He and Alya went to sit in the second row without any protest, but Adrien stayed behind, staring at the sight before him. He wasn't sure why, but his inner alarm bells were ringing when he looked at the new guy. There was something about him that sent his Chat Noir super senses tingling.

Marinette looked into her backpack for something, and that's when Henri noticed Adrien's stare on them. Their eyes met across the room, and that's when it happened. Henri's brown eyes narrowed, and he sent a nasty smirk Adrien's way, one that made the model boy's blood turn to ice in his veins. Then, the moment right before Marinette turned back, Henri was back to his former, cheerful, non-threatening self, chatting happily with her.

All of the sudden, Adrien felt sick, his head spinning, his stomach churning, his heartbeat ceasing fir a few seconds before it started beating a hundred times a minute. He didn't know what had just happened or why, but he had an awful feelings that things would never be the same again.

#Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Adrien Agreste #Alya Césaire #Nino Lahiffe #miraculous salt #ml salt #Original character #adrien x marinette #adrienette #miraculous ladybug #miraculous season 3 #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #lila rossi #lila salt

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dungeons-and-hermits · 5 years

Text

Runs in the Family

Here, have an unneeding long fic for your x/ex lore needs!

Genre: Angst (& Fluff) Characters: Xisuma, Ex, Joe Summary: Xisuma is always the one to clean up after Ex, but how far is he willing to go? Word Count: 2306 Author: Mod Al

The town was certainly quiet.

Xisuma had told him to stay put for the day so that they could “leave a good impression” in the town before they left, but was he going to listen? No. Was he going to take the risk? Hell yes. Nobody would know if he didn’t get caught, right?

Yeah.

As long as he didn’t get caught, it would be fine.

Evil Xisuma quietly dropped onto the railing of the window, it was the middle of the night, and the guards were sparsely placed here and there. They were nowhere near him and his place of action, thankfully. He pushed the glass lightly, it was a moderately rich appearing house--by all means, it should get him something good… And, of course, like any house, the windows were locked. Nothing a little good ol’ lockpicking wouldn’t get open.

He quickly opened the lock and dropped into the house, swift and quiet. Stealing had such a negative connotation to it, but that was nowhere near to the truth. Ex rarely stole from any market merchants, and almost exclusively stole from the richer population. It wasn’t like they’d miss a few pieces of jewelry, anyway.

His foot dropped onto the polished wooden boards, producing only a small tap of noise. Ex glanced around; his tiefling eyes could see perfectly well in the inky darkness of the room. And it appeared that he had landed in one of the guest bedrooms. If it had been the main bedroom, there would have been someone there, sleeping. But you know what? That made it a whole lot easier on his part.

Ex pushed open the door gently. The hallways were dark, and not a single creature was in sight. Good.

The pale-skinned tiefling walked down the hallway cautiously, his tail low and bent down. There were countless houses of the similar model that he had walked through, it was almost standard at this point. He’d even begun to see patterns as to where people were most likely to hide valuables.

He approached a cabinet in the kitchen area. People often overlooked the cabinets, but he didn’t. Quickly picking open the flimsy lock, Ex glanced inside. There was a ton of tableware in it, but he pushed the items aside only to find exactly what he was looking for.

A small, wooden box. He pulled it out from the covers, and quickly turned around, planning to leave the house.

But the sound of shattered ceramic, and the sight of a small figure before him, stopped him in his tracks.

It was a little dwarf girl, presumably a servant, with the shards of a broken platte scattered at her feet. They stood frozen for a moment, shocked into silence as they stared at each other, and then she began shrieking.

Ex panicked, half of him screaming at him to run while the other half told him to shut her up before anyone found out. He reacted on impulse, pushing past her with panic keeping his mind blank except for the sole thought of getting the hell out of that kitchen. He sprinted down the hall, leaving the sound of the servant girl screaming and yelling for the guards in the background.

He grasped onto the window sill and heaved himself out of the building in such a hurry that he didn’t even land properly and slammed face first into a wall. Groaning, he pushed the pain to the back of his mind and started running as fast as he could out of the alleyway he’d fallen into. The tiefling ran into the open streets. First mistake.

Second mistake? Assuming that the guards were busy.

They weren’t.

The first thing he noticed was the sudden numbness he felt in the side of his head. The guards had met him at the entrance to the alley, far too many and far too sudden for him to even hope to fight them.

Someone punched him on the side of his face, knocking him over. He was never as built as his brother and was much more agile, but that sacrificed modest defense. He fell to the ground, coughing. He opened his eyes, moonlight reflecting in his pale red irises.

Another punch fell onto his face, and just like that, he was out like a light.

Birds chirped from outside of the inn building as sunlight peaked in from the window. The paladin, having awoken before dawn, sat on his bed, sharpening his sword.

It was awfully loud for so early in the morning. He knew that this town was a trading focused town, but he didn’t expect the markets go up so soon…

He sheathed his sword, standing and moving to the door. He opened it and immediately saw a panicked bard, one hand raised to knock on the wood. Joe seemed nervous, unsettled. As if he was bearing bad news.

Xisuma could guess what it was. This always happened.

“Xisuma-- You have to come right now,” Joe spoke. His voice, though worried, was calm as it ever was. “Ex is missing.”

“And? This isn’t anything new---”

“And he got captured. By the guards.”

That was the last sentence he wanted to hear.

He wanted to speak, but anger was bubbling in him. Sure, his brother was a troublemaker, but he always knew how to get himself out of it. This, though…

He had a feeling that this time was different.

“What happened?” Xisuma yelled. He immediately felt sorry--what had Joe done, after all? It wasn’t Joe’s fault.

“They captured him, and now… He’s outside. They’re gonna cut his hands off for attempted robbery and for breaking in.” The human spoke softly. “’suma, I know you’re protective over him, but please just--”

“Words aren’t going to work. Joe. He’s a tiefling. They won’t listen.” Xisuma hissed.

Joe sighed, “Xisuma, please, just calm down, I’ll talk this out? Alright?”

“There is no talking it out. That’s my brother, and they’re not going to just let him go.”

“X, if it makes you happy, you can come with me ‘n’ talk it out with the guards.” The bard suggested.

Xisuma breathed out, an attempt at calming himself. And nodded, afraid that another word will snap his patience.

A certain Warforged and another paladin looked out from their rooms as Joe and X walked together out of the inn.

Tap.

He’d been tapping the wooden floor for a good 10 minutes now.

Joe had been talking with the guards outside of the prison for even longer. It was less than two hours before the punishment would be delivered. They were running out of time. The guards weren’t backing down, but they were stalling. They refused to answer any of Joe’s questions and despite the man’s pleasant demeanor they weren’t even really listening to him. Xisuma watched his teammate’s face as it grew more and more worried, while his own grew even more angered.

They were all like this. Not a single one would listen.

When you’re a tiefling, even if you're not suspected of committing a crime like his dumbass brother, you’re automatically guilty.

Xisuma clenched his teeth and gripped his crossed arms, ignoring the worried glances from his other party members and focusing on his own mind.

If the guards weren’t going to let his brother go… Then he would.

Of course, it wouldn’t look good on him, not at all. Their parents would be absolutely livid when they found out. But for god’s sake, that was his brother. His baby brother. He couldn’t just let this happen. Of course not. If it was him that was in this situation, Ex would do the same for him without question, no matter how much his younger brother like to poke at him. It was the least X could do to repay Ex for always seeing him as… Him. And not the expectations everyone else gives him.

He sighed.

X looked up, locking eyes with Joe, who had returned from talking with the guards. No words needed to be exchanged. He knew the results were not in their favor.

“Come on. Let’s go.” He spoke in a low voice. He strode out of the room. Everyone else trailed behind him, exchanging uncomfortable looks with each other.

“What d’ya mean I can’t speak to him?” X shouted. He was trying his best to stay calm, really, but who could blame him for failing in that regard.

“Sorry sir, we can’t let you speak to him until we’ve confirmed that you’re one of his family members.” The guard spoke. That. Same. Damn. Line.

“WH-WH-LOOK.” He breathed in and out again, pushing his anger down. “We can solve this civilly, and no one has to get hurt. Alright?”

“Sir, I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

That was it. He was done with this fucking wall.

“Listen up. That’s my fucking baby brother you are holding there. I don’t care if he did anything wrong. In fact, I will pay you to let him out. How does that sound?” X forced a smile and spoke in the sweetest voice possible. Joe immediately whipped around and stared at him in disbelief.

“Sir, you know I can’t take bribes.”

The paladin was moving before the man had finished the sentence. He grabbed the guard’s head and smashed it into the nearest wall. That might have been too much, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t going to let Ex stay in that holding cell a minute longer. He pressed the guard’s face against the wall and held it up to his own.

“Listen up, motherfucker. You don’t have much of a choice in this matter, do you? Before, you at least had something in return. But now? Watch this,” he whispered, watching as the fear crept into the guard’s face. He paused for a moment, let the threat sink in, and then dropped him. “Of course, I won’t actually do anything.”

He brushed off his hands and grabbed the cell keys from the guard’s pelt. “You three, run as far as possible, I’ll catch up later.” Xisuma said, turning towards his party.

Joe, Biffa, and Wels were staring at him in shock. They had never seen their leader snap quite like this before, and for a moment--for the first time that morning--Xisuma faltered. But they listened to him, nodding and offering a strange array of a soft smile, a vindicated smirk, and Biffa’s odd little half-grin he gave when there was mischief afoot before running off. It left him full of confidence. The guard at his feet scrambled away, nothing but a rat.

Ex’s cell was cold and damp. He sat on the dirty floor, moving tenderly. His pale skin was covered in purpling bruises, and his face was bloodied. He heard footsteps coming down to the basement, and he looked down--with people like these guards, it was best not to give them any reason to perceive disobedience or insult.

When the key turned in the cell door, though, and the person’s frantic fumbling was obvious, Ex looked up to find not a guard stepping in but his brother.

“’suma-- Wh-- What are you doing here? You shouldn’t be here-”

“Talk later! We don’t have time!”

Xisuma grabbed ahold of Ex’s arm, and he winced slightly when the hand wrapped just a bit too tightly around one of his worst bruises. X bodily dragged him out of the cell and then, when he finally found his footing, led him upstairs and through the upper levels. Behind them, guards poured out from the back area.

“Xisuma. Answer this honestly-- Did you beat the fucking guard up?” Ex pulled his arm from X’s grasp, keeping pace.

“Well, what else was I going to do?”

Let it happen. The words fell quiet on Ex’s tongue, unsaid as they ran through the town. The entrance approached ever closer. Honestly, he’d figured X thought he deserved whatever punishment they were planning to give him.

As they left the town, the path under them became more and more overgrown. It soon melted into grass as they ran into a forest, where they diverged completely from the path and into the cover of the trees. They were outside of the town now, and they had long lost the guards. So they stopped, catching their breath.

Ex stood awkwardly as X called Joe on his stone of farspeech, discussing where to meet up. The second those plans were made, though, Ex was launching into a reprimand.

“What was that?”

X turned to him, glaring, dropping the stone to let it hang around his neck. “I fancied myself saving you, dumbass.”

“Who even said I needed saving?” Ex stomped his foot. It was childish, perhaps, but he was beyond caring.

“They were going to cut your hands off!”

“I would have thought something up! I always do! You didn’t need to-”

“Of course I needed to!” Xisuma exclaimed. “Obviously I needed to! You’re my brother, obviously I wasn’t going to sit idly by while they cut off your damn hands!”

“Do you know how pissed our parents are going to be?” the albino tiefling bellowed.

“It doesn’t matter! All that matters is that you’re safe!” X yelled in return.

Ex’s throat suddenly tightens up. He could feel his eyes watering up, he desperately tried to hold it in. But it broke out into a sob and then suddenly he was crying.

X’s footsteps continued for a moment before stopping. Then they came back, and suddenly Xisuma’s arms were around him and his face was resting on the paladin’s hard-ass chestplate. His hand was rubbing Ex’s back, just like he used to do when they were children. “Don’t worry about it. Your safety is more important than my future, Xonet.”

#hermitcraft #hc dnd au #Xisuma #xisumavoid #xisuma void #evil xisuma #ex #evil x #evilx #mod al #+ some editing help from #mod lori #fic #aw shit. here we go again

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pixelpolaroid · 7 years

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Day 4: Little Artist inside

Day 4 of my week of action writing challenge. Not gonna lie, this one was hard to figure out what to write for, but that’s part of the challenge.

Action: Finger painting

“Can you at least tell me where we’re going?” Chase was being dragged by the Septic’s newest addition to the family. Jameson just shook his head and pull on his arm. Marvin and Jackie were walking close behind, also having no clue what he was planning. Seeing the mute ego beaming when he gathered them all prevented the others from stopping him, so they decided to play along for now. Jackie was starting to regret not going with Henrik to visit Dr. Iplier now.

Jamie opened the door to his room and invited them all in. Inside, Jamie had rearranged everything. All the furniture was pushed to the sides and the floor was completely opened. There were five easels set up in a circle with canvases and paint supplies around them. Jamie turned to the others with a huge smile. “You want us to paint?” chase stated. Jamie just nodded in response.

Chase and Jackie exchanged a look. Neither of them really wanted to. “Look Jameson,” Jackie said, stepping forward. “Why exactly do you want us to do this? None of us can really paint,” Jamie frowned a little, looking down at his shoes and just shrugging.

Seeing the new guy so down kinda hurt them. Ever since he appeared he was always so full of positivity and energy, anything different just seemed unnatural. Marvin, being the light of positivity, finally stepped in. “Well maybe we should all learn!” He wrapped his arm around Jamie’s shoulder. “This could be fun guys,” Jamie cheered up and ran over to the easels and opening the paints. Marvin soon followed, urging the other two to join.

Eventually they all had paint palettes covered with different colors. “Umm, Jamie?” Jackieboy finally said. “Did you get any paint brushes?” Jamie nodded and rummaged through a plastic bag.He began pulling out a few more palettes and paints, but no brushes. He stood up confused, and began looking through his drawers. Eventually he turned back to the others with a saddened expression. His gaze landed on the ground as he just shrugged, not knowing where they were.

The others all glanced at each other, eventually Jackie and Chase were looking to Marvin, nodding for him to say something. “H-hey! That’s okay! We can still do this. Just use your fingers,” He covered his index finger with a bit of red and began making shapes on his canvas. The other two just shrugged and followed suit. Jamie smiled soon joined him.

The four continued finger painting for awhile, giving off commentary now and then, Jackie at one point left to bring them all towels for their hands. Marvin had paint on his nose, but no one said anything because they thought it was too funny.

Jamie set his palette aside and wiped off his fingers. “Hey Jamie,” chase suddenly asked. “Why’d you set up five easels?”

“Probably for Henrik,” Jackie piped in, then turning to Jamie. “Didn’t he tell you he’d be gone today?” Jamie rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Jackie and Chase looked at each other confused. Before either of them had a chance to say anything, the lights flickered and sparked, than Anti was standing in the middle of their little circle.

“Anti?” chase yelled, nearly dropping his palette. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Anti just looked at them all confused. “Are you finger painting? Whatever,” He just rolled his eyes and turned to Jamie, holding a piece of paper up to him. “You left this note in my room? I’m here so what do you want?” He asked.

The mute man lite up, clapping to himself. He grabbed the glitch’s arm and pulled him to the empty easel. Anti looked at him, then back to the blank canvas. “You want me to paint too?” Jamie nodded enthusiastically, handing him a palette already with paint on it.

The other Septics exchanged looks. What was he thinking inviting that glitch? They were having a good time and now he had to show up. “Umm Jamie, why exactly did you invite him?” Marvin asked timidly. He was still pretty afraid of Anti as it was. Having him here at such a close distance was a little nerve wracking. Jamie huffed and shaking a finger at him, then just turned to anti and threw his arm around him, pushing him slightly closer to the canvas. Anti looked at him confused. The two shared a gaze for a second.

Anti’s eyes went wider as he understood what Jamie was trying to say. “No,” He pulled away from Jamie and set his palette aside. “No, no, no. Not doing this, they don’t even like me,”

“What is going on right now?” Chase finally demanded, now standing. Jamie turned to him, gesturing to all of them then making a heart with his hand in front of his chest. We’re a family.

Anti turned away from all of them. Jackie pulled his hood back rubbing his eyes. Marvin just hid behind his canvas. One by one, Jamie looked at them half smiling. Right? His smile was fading slowly. None of them seem to agree, and anti was close to glitching away through the light again. Jamie looked like he was about to cry.

Chase sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes. “Anti what are you doing?”

Anti looked up. “right. I know I’m not wel…”

“I’m already half done and you haven’t even started. You might wanna catch up,” Jamie’s eye lite up, turning to anti’s shocked face. Chase actually was okay with him being there? Anti could tell he was only doing it for Jameson, but still, something sparked in him.

The glitch cleared the emotions from his face. “Whatever, don’t expect Picasso though,” He said grumpily sitting down and beginning.

By the time they’d all finished, Marvin had more paint on his face and the towels were covered in colors. It really didn’t seem worth trying to wash them. They all helped clean up the garbage and then left to allow the paintings a chance to dry. The all went into the living room to watch movies, except Anti who just went to his room.

Later that night, anti peeked his head out to see them all asleep on the couches, except Marvin who was on the floor. He tiptoed past to get some water from the kitchen, but on his way back to his room, he stopped at Jameson’s door. He looked back, then quietly snuck in. Anti walked over to the canvases, curiosity getting the better of him.

Marvin’s was kinda crap, if he was honest. It was a messy attempt at a self profile shot, but it was styled like a face card. Chase’s canvas was just covered with thumbnails idea for a new Bro Average logo. Jackieboy painting spiderman. No surprise there.

Anti just rolled his eyes.They were all so predictable, but when he made it to Jamie’s, he froze. It was good, like really good. He couldn’t deny that. What got him though was the actual image. It was a christmas wreath. The bottom half was decorated in what seemed like random objects, but anti understood them all. There was a syringe with green liquid, a card with all four suits, tea bags sprinkled in, a blue mask hanging from it, and instead of red, the bow was blue. Finally, there was a knife sitting, not stabbed into the wreath, just sitting there in its sheath.

The top half didn’t have anything, just one word strung through the branches that said, “Family.”

Anti didn’t really know what to feel. All he knew was that Jamie was young and naive. That was the only way he could actually treat Anti the way he was. If he knew the type of person Anti was, there was no way he’d have wanted him to join them. Anti was sure of that, but why was he having a hard time holding back tears? He looked back up. “Family.” It didn’t feel really. Obtainable. He didn’t need it, nor want it. He was just an angry glitch, that was all right?

Anti suddenly felt rage boil in his stomach. He felt the sudden urge to tear through Jamie’s painting. Rip it to pieces. Burn it. Just take it out of existence, but then he thought about the sad way Jamie would look if he had. Something about it made him stop. Anti shook his head and grabbed his own painting, and glitched into his room, forgetting what he ever saw.

#septic egos #jacksepticeye #chase brody #marvin the magnificent #jackieboy man #jameson jackson #antisepticeye #7 days writing challenge #week of writing #day 4

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sogurikur · 7 years

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POTA - Garrett & Ceryl.

I got permission to share some RP from our Princes of the Apocalypse campaign, so here we go.

Ceryl is mine, Garrett is an NPC played by @b-e-m-l-t. In this thread, Ceryl finds the answer to a question he’s been asking most of his life, and Garrett’s colorful past comes back to haunt him.

It was not like the genasi to be unsure, even if his brand of confidence manifested differently than most people -- not brash, only the relaxed calm and ease of someone who genuinely believed everything was working out just fine. That particular evening, however, the only thing Ceryl was sure of was that he'd been... less than subtle about how unsure he felt. His conversation with Felsi a few days earlier had done a lot to smooth his doubts over what they'd found in the Water Temple -- but, really, it had just cleared the way for that last and greatest uncertainty to barrel right to the forefront of his thoughts.

Doubly so, when the source of it was suddenly in the same room with him.

Like waves eroding a shoreline, Ceryl had managed to talk himself into -- and back out of -- speaking with Garrett at least half a dozen times over the course of that day. He'd tell the man once they arrived at Summit Hall. He'd tell him after the discussions with the knights ended. After they helped the refugees settle in. After dinner had wrapped up. On and on, he'd waited for an opportunity to catch the knight alone -- yet each time the chance arose, Ceryl would second-guess until it had passed. Until dark had fallen, and they'd all retreated to their respective quarters, and the genasi was kicking himself for being an idiot -- and feeling wholly and utterly unlike himself, for the first time in his life.

I'll tell him in the morning, Ceryl thought, before we leave. Still, something in his stomach sank. No, he'd surely find some fresh excuse, then the party would depart -- and after that, nothing was certain anymore, not for any of them. This happened for a reason, he found himself thinking, not for the first time. This happened NOW for a reason -- he would only be an idiot if he allowed it to pass by. Thus, he found himself outside Garrett's door once again -- satchel of flasks in tow, hesitating before raising a hand to knock upon it -- and steeling himself for what was coming.

"Ey, Garrett?" he called, through the wood. "You passed out already, or can we talk?"

Garrett hasn't been far from the three of them for most of the day, first with the knights and then with the refugees, plying his healing magic where he can a rough brand of humour as medicine where he can't. Seta hasn't been out of sight much either, much more settled into a healer’s role than an almost-slave.

When night has fallen and the genasi is at his door, the gruff sound that echoes on the other side of it from Ceryl’s knock is almost inaudible, and then it rings louder, a very distinct “Hmmnm” of a half asleep man.

“Yes and yes. Come on in, kid, it's not locked.”

On the other side of the heavy door, Ceryl had to stifle something between a cringe and a laugh at the word "kid" from the other man -- the irony not lost on him. Casting a quick glance up and down the hallway to ensure he wasn't observed, the genasi then ducked into the room... though he lingered in the threshold, in spite of the invitation.

"I can come back in the morning, if you need your beauty sleep," he offered -- grinning, but having the good grace to look guilty all the same.

“Trust me, if I haven't gotten any more beautiful by now I never will.”

Garrett lay on the bed, boots discarded beside it and his arm over his eyes even though the candle still burns on the rough looking bedside table. “What can I do for you?” He peers out with one eye from under his arm for a moment.

“...the big lass not with you?”

"Just me, I'm afraid," Ceryl answered, stepping fully into the room and shouldering the door closed behind him, as if to prove his point. It was only a few steps between the door and the bed, where he deposited the satchel before the other man -- the glass of the flasks within clinking jarringly in the quiet.

"That's for you, from Goldenfields," the genasi offered, almost an afterthought as he sank into the nearby chair. Leaning forward, elbows upon his knees and his whole brow creased, at once he seemed more pensive than usual.

"There was something else we found in the Temple," he went on, after a moment, looking at Garrett earnestly. "I wanted to tell you... away from the others."

He doesn't look particularly disappointed, just flumps his arm down on the straw mattress and nods, shifting enough to sit up and see the genasi a little better. He raises a brow as the door shuts, but fishes the the strap of the bag close with the toe of his boot and takes a look inside. He smirks.

“Go on then, what did you find?” He doesn't look at Ceryl his his shadowed eyes as he sorts through the flasks and sniffs each one.

Ceryl, for his part, was the opposite -- eyes never leaving Garrett's face, his own brows going up at how casual the other man had reacted. Still, he brought his hands together before him, and tapped the pads of his fingers together as he cast about for where to begin.

"There was a fountain," he started. "Old one -- fair deal older than anything else down there. And it... implied that anyone drinking from it would get the truthful answer to any one question."

He chuckled then, recognizing how ridiculous it was. "Sounds like bullshit, I know. But... well, it did show us things."

Garrett momentarily pauses in his sniffing of the flasks long enough to glance at the genasi across the room.

“Old like that damned book case you showed me? Because I'm not accustomed to shitting my breeches in front of acquaintances, lad.”

That might have gotten a laugh out of Ceryl any other time, except that he too vividly remembered the look on Garrett's face when they'd spoken that afternoon. The look when Ashir had shared the rubbing he'd taken. So the genasi folded his hands, his brow creasing further.

"Well, I'm no stonemason, but..." he said, pausing in thought for a second. "Old like that door with the eye. And it... called to me, even before any of us touched it. Just me."

Another pause, and then: “Don’t shit yet, though, that’s only half of it.”

Garrett frowned again. He slowly lifted a flask to his nose and took a very slow sniff. Then a long swig. And a he winced. “How about you just out with it, come on boy. There's been enough weird fuckery already today.”

Ceryl raised his shoulders in acquiescence at that, then drew in a deep breath himself and sat up straighter -- visibly steeling himself again for what he was leading up to. Easy and amiable as he usually was, he did not wear that newfound dourness well.

"It showed me you," he said then, bluntly. "The vision, it involved you. Way I figure, the easiest way to tell if it's bullshit or not is to just tell you what I saw -- and you can tell me if it's true. If not, no harm done. If so... well, then we'll have more to talk about."

His brows furrow at that and rather than any familiar blanche there's a notable darkening to his expression at the implication that he's got a role in anyone's truth.

“...sure. How much of this grog should I drink right now?”

"Suppose that depends on if it's true," Ceryl answered, honestly. "But I'd at least finish that one."

At that, he reached to fish a flask out from his back pocket, the sole one he'd saved for himself -- raising it in a mock salute towards Garrett that lacked any humor. Without preamble, he drank long from it, and blotted his mouth on the back of his sleeve -- but didn't put it away before he continued.

"Right then, out with it," he said then, and then his brows furrowed as he drew on the memory he'd already been thinking over and over. "It was you and this... aquatic woman. You were younger, but it was certainly you. And she was unnaturally tall and shapely, but beautiful -- like the water itself had taken form. You were... intimate."

He hesitated a moment, and then spoke in the voice he reserved for reciting his ballads, but hazy -- as though someone else was speaking through him. "He came to the sea when she called, and nought could resist such a bountiful sight. 'Til the morning and the break of dawn did they dance, 'til the waves shone and gleamed, beneath the red night."

Then he halted, and simply looked at the other man, waiting with clear trepidation for what the answer would be.

At the first sentence, Garrett let out a short chuckle. Aquatic woman could have meant anything. Sailor. Sea wench. Mermaid. He couldn’t remember a mermaid. But the more Ceryl spoke of her the more his expression dropped to something fairly close to dumbstruck neutral.

“That’s uh...that’s quite the rhyme.” He tipped a flask up on its end and empties the contents into his mouth, not swallowing for a good few moments, narrowing his eyes at the sting on his cheeks. He reached for another. “Well I suppose that fountain doesn’t lie after all. I ought to have words with it.”

Ceryl certainly thought he had prepared himself for whatever Garrett's answer might be -- and he had known that a confirmation would only give rise to even more questions. Still, hearing the man affirm it aloud, Ceryl was similarly dumbstruck. He couldn't repress the stunned burst of laughter that came out, nor hide the sort of half smile that overtook his face, somewhere between shock and elation -- at finally having what he'd sought for so long sitting right before him.

Then the rest caught up with his reaction, and he finally sat back in the chair, the tension he'd had giving way to a sort of boneless acceptance and a newly re-furrowed brow. He followed Garrett's example, and downed the remainder of the flask he held.

"You should," he said, sounding somewhat distant. "Don't know what the other two asked the thing, but Greenfoot managed to get some insight about our mission from it. Couldn't hurt."

He inhaled deeply once more, and looked Garrett in the eye again. Stop stalling, Ceryl. "Well, I suppose I should tell you what I asked, then. Probably want another drink before that one. Or several."

Garrett widened his eyes at the genasi’s response to his quip, and quickly shakes his head, uncapping another flask. He emptied that one into his mouth too, checking it had really run dry, giving it a shake over his open lips. “Fucker.”

He sighed. “I don’t know what bush you’re beating around here kid but looking up a man’s conquests is no real way to flirt. One watery type was enough for me in my lifetime, thank you..”

To say that response caught Ceryl by surprise would have been an understatement. His whiskey was already well swallowed, but he choked all the same, sitting bolt upright in the chair and looking mildly horrified at the implication.

"No-- by all the gods, that's not what--" he blurted out all at once, and then exhaled, rubbing his palms over his face and trying to wring back his composure. After a moment, he dropped his hands into his lap again, but failed to look quite as resolute as he had before.

"I asked it to show me who my parents were," he said, with all the earnesty he could muster. "Imagine my surprise when it showed me you, of all people. And no, that's not a joke."

Garrett’s brow rose for all of a moment while Ceryl jumped in his seat, and he watched the genasi shed and fail to fully regain his usual composure. He watched, and he listened, and he met Ceryl’s eye. He turned a little green.

His shoulders shrugged up suddenly as whiskey made a sudden resurgence for a second taste. He pressed a fist to his mouth and shuddered as he whispered. “Sweet, merciful Lathander.”

Just as Garrett watched him, Ceryl kept his eyes trained intently on Garrett's face as he delivered the news. It was hard to believe he would be using his Harper training for this, but the genasi watched the other man's reaction -- his father's reaction -- intently as he could. And certainly there was an ounce of guilt for making the man ill... but more than that, there was such relief that Ceryl just about sagged where he sat, like a puppet with strings cut.

"You didn't know..."

The half-elf shook his head vigorously and closed his eyes, swallowing very slowly and very hard. He immediately found another flask and upended it into his mouth. He took a breath. “I surely did not.” He glanced at Ceryl quickly, then shut his eyes again. “Shit, how old even are you?”

It was just as well that Garrett wasn't looking at him, because the longer Ceryl had to absorb the fact that this was all true -- the fact that he was looking at his father -- the more he reacted the opposite. He looked as though he might laugh, if for no other reason than how absurd and improbable this was.

"I'm fourty-five... ish?" he answered, giving a shrug. "Something around there, I don't actually know when my birthday is."

Still, then he sobered up, and even though he still looked more pleased than he had any right to be, he leaned towards Garrett and reached out for his arm. "Listen, I'm sorry for springing this on you. I know it's... a lot."

Garrett put down the bag of flasks as Ceryl answered him and he screwed his eyes shut even tighter before flumping an arm over them. “Evil ancient eye is opening up, towns getting burned down. Consequences of me ploughing some djinn down south forty years ago crawling out of the woodwork? Sure. Why not.”

He sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face. “Ok kid.” He scoffed. “Kid. Fuck me. Ok how about… how about you gimme twenty minutes. Or maybe an hour. Shit.” He took a deep breath. “How about we talk about this in the morning, over breakfast or some shit?”

It's the word 'consequences' that seems to finally take Ceryl's elation down a peg, the tone of it visibly taking the wind out of his sails. Where he'd reached for Garrett a moment earlier, he withdrew again and seemed to sober up a bit further, his brow creasing the way it had when he'd first entered the room. He only nodded sympathetically at the other man's request.

"I think we're off again in the morning," he said. "If you catch us before then, sure. If you're not, well... You don't owe me anything, you know."

For a second, Ceryl ran his hands down his legs and looked at the door, as though debating whether to leave as he'd been asked. Then he looked back to the man, the dour shadow over his expression back again. "I wasn't going to tell you until after all this was over. End of the world is the bigger priority. But then, the fire, and it dawned on me we might not both be here when it's over. I don't believe in coincidences, and this--" He gestured between them. "-- can't be one. But you don't owe me anything, and it won't take away from the mission. I just wanted you to know."

Then, finally, he stood as though to leave.

When Ceryl turned around he took his moment to begin rummaging through the bag of flasks again and began emptying the entire contents one by one into the clay jug beside the bed. “Don’t worry about it, if crackpots a hundred years ago can do it, then it can definitely be stopped now.”

He didn’t try to meet Ceryl’s eye, or stop him as he went, only lifted an empty flask to the genasi’s back and with a waveringly dry tone said, “Thanks for the hooch, son.”

Ceryl halted just as he reached for the door handle at the word "son", and paused to chuckle at it, some of the renewed tension dissipating. He half turned back to Garrett, only then catching the gesture and the flask being held out to him.

"You're welcome, dad," he said, wryly -- and then, with a few gestures of his fingers and a few whispered words, watched the flask fill with clear liquid. "Try not to get too hung over."

With that, he turned again, ducking into the hallway and closing the door behind him.

#c: ceryl #writing #this is from way back in may!#(maury voice) you ARE the father

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uraberika · 7 years

Text

Truth or Dare

Hello everyone!

This is my very first fanfiction for this fandom, I hope you guys will like it. :) It’s written for the amazing @shawn-and-aiden-frost-9, who sent me the prompt “Just shut up and kiss me”. I hope you’ll enjoy it! :)

Title: Truth or Dare Pairing: Kidou x Fudou Characters: Kidou, Fudou, the Inazuma Japan team, the managers Rated: T (there’s some swearing in it) Words: 3 853 words

’I’m so bored!’ Kogure whined as he lay down on the grass staring at the sky with a blunt expression.

‘You just finished practice like… eight minutes ago, and you’re bored already?’ Touko asked with a raised eyebrow.

It was a blazing day after practice, and the members of Inazuma Japan were sitting in the grass next to the pitch most of them still panting from the new training routine coach Kudou had come up with. The girls were going around handing out flasks and water bottles with some sandwiches brought by Rika and Touko.

‘If you’re bored, go and run around the pitch once again. A bonus lap for you.’ Kazemaru suggested wiping the sweat off his forehead with a towel.

‘No way! That training is torture…’ Kogure stretched. ‘I’m still bored though…’

‘Kogure’s right,’ Tsunami said approaching the others. Touko held out a water bottle to him. Tsunami took it, twisted the cap, but instead of drinking it, he poured its content on his head.

‘Much better,’ he said relieved then continued his train of thoughts. ‘We’re done with training for today now, and the rest of the day is off for everyone.’

‘Aren’t you going to the sea, by the way?’ Tachimukai asked as he took off his gloves and followed Kogure’s example by lying down on the grass with a content sigh.

‘Nah,’ Tsunami shook his head water drops flying in every possible direction. ‘After this madness which the coach calls training, I can’t move a single muscle. The ocean has to wait,’ Tsunami said with a little disappointment in his voice.

‘What? Tired already?’ Endou’s cheerful shout came from the field. He was standing near the goal scooping up a ball and tucking it in a bag. Then he closed the bag and made his way to the others.

‘Only you can say that after three hours of almost non-stop training,’ Hiroto laughed sitting cross-legged with a flask in one hand.

‘Yeah. You are insane, Captain,’ Kabeyama agreed.

‘Just excited about our next match with Fire Dragon,’ Endou answered plopping the bag on the grass as he sat down next to Kabeyama.

‘Leeet’s play something,’ Kogure started again.

‘Like what?’ Tobitaka murmured behind his sandwich.

‘Yeah, we could use some entertainment,’ Toramaru agreed at the same time.

‘You guys are so childish!’ Rika rolled her eyes.

‘You wanna play something?’ Fudou asked, a vicious grin spreading across his face. ‘Fine.’ he twisted the cap of his almost empty water bottle back and placed it on the grass. ‘Let’s play truth or dare.’ he said with a tone that promised nothing good. All heads nearby turned to Fudou from every direction.

‘Now that sounds interesting,’ Kogure got up and sat next to Fudou. ‘Come on guys, let’s play,’ he chuckled with a mischievious grin on his face. Slowly, a small circle started to form. First Hiroto, Midorikawa, and Endou sat down next to Fudou and Kogure, then Tsunami and Tachimukai joined. After them, Toramaru entered the circle too followed by a grumbling Tobitaka who was murmuring ‘this will not end well’ under his breath. Then Kazemaru arrived dragging a struggling Kabeyama along.

‘Hey guys, what are you doing?’ Aki stepped closer to the circle balancing three water bottles on a plate.

‘Truth or dare. Wanna join?’ Hiroto asked.

‘Why not? I haven’t played this game in ages, it might be fun,’ she said as she placed the tray down. The boys made some space for her, and she sat down crossing her legs. ‘Natsumi-san, would you like to join?’ Aki asked the redhead who was standing nearby under a big umbrella because of the scorching heat.

Natsumi looked in Aki’s direction, sighed, and closed her umbrella. ‘I just might as well do so. It’s not like I have anything else to do. But if you guys try something sneaky…’ her gaze turned cold and lingered over the group of boys. Kogure and Kabeyama flinched when her icy stare reached them.

‘Hey guys, have you seen Sakuma-kun?’ Haruna arrived, a flask in her hand with Sakuma’s name on it. Fudou flashed an evil smile. ‘I saw him getting escorted into the building by coach Kudou.’ Kogure chuckled in the background.

‘He got sunstroke.’ Kidou’s quiet but firm voice could be heard a few steps away from the circle. He was sitting in the grass with a notebook in his lap, drawing furiously.

‘What a whimp,’ Fudou sneered.

‘Yeah, running around for three hours and only getting some headache. What a whimp,’ Kidou repeated dryly without looking up from his notebook.

‘What are you doing anyway?’ Fudou asked with a disdainful glare.

‘Tactics.’ Kidou replied, still drawing in the notebook with great vehemence.

‘Just let it go and join us! Scribbling on a piece of paper won’t help anyone, anyway,’ he said his voice filled with mockery.

‘No thanks. You can do whatever you want, but you can be sure I won’t be playing some childish prank-puller game when our next match will be against Fire Dragon and Korea’s most highly acclaimed game strategist,’ Kidou’s tone was slightly annoyed now.

‘Tch. Your loss, whatever,’ Fudou answered then turned back to the circle, only to realize that it has enlarged with a smiling Touku and two more rather confused managers, Haruna and Fuyuka.

‘Great. More people, the better,’ Fudou grinned vixenly. ‘Anyone else? It’s your last chance,’ he offered.

‘No thanks,’ Rika said. ‘Maybe, if Darling were here, it would be more fun but without him… This is just childish!’ Rika answered crossing her arms. ‘Though I’m more than glad to watch it,’ she chuckled and fished out her phone from her bag.

‘I’ll leave this one out,’ Hijikata said. ‘I’m too old for these kinds of things. I think I’ll go and make some tea for Sakuma,’ he said turning around and leaving the others.

‘Well, that’s it then,’ Fudou sneered.

‘Wait,’ Toramaru said. ‘Where’s Gouenji-san?’

Tobitaka jerked behind him with his head. All the others turned their heads in the shown direction, only to find the person in question a few meters away, lying in the grass on his back, eyes closed, sound asleep.

‘Well, I guess that’s a no from him,’ Endou chuckled. ‘You sure, you don’t wanna join, Kidou?’ he asked cheerfully.

‘I’m fine,’ he answered in a much calmer tone now, but still not wasting a glance on anything else but his notebook. The match was approaching, and Kidou had to be prepared for no matter what trick Fire Dragon had in mind. He turned the page and started to sketch another formation. The outside world almost disappeared to him, the only things on his mind were positions, hisatssus, and combinations. He even missed someone’s (maybe it was Tachimukai?) failed attempt at climbing a tree. He only woke from this weird state when he heard a loud thump and Tsunami’s snicker in the background but quickly resumed his work. Until…

‘It’s you, Haruna-san!’ Aki squealed and poked her in the shoulder. ‘And the one who’s asking is Natsumi-san!”

‘Ah, this game is so boring…’ Natsumi sighed. ‘Everyone always chooses “truth” since Tachimukai fell off that tree! And we’re out of embarrassing questions already…’

‘Then, I’ll dare,’ Haruna shrugged, and Natsumi’s eyes lit up.

‘Oh well, what an intriguing turn! I must not waste this chance… What shall I do?’ Natsumi seemed to seriously consider this question. ‘I mean, what shall you do?’

‘Are you sure you made the right decision?’ Aki whispered to Haruna who seemed a little bit paler now.

‘How bad can it be, I thought. Maybe I was wrong. You know, she scares me a little when she’s like this,’ Haruna whispered back.

‘I got it!’ Natsumi shouted and snapped her fingers so loud that even Kidou jumped at the sound of it. A sly grin spread across her face. It was so unlike her that Tsunami closed his eyes and shook his head in an attempt to erase this bizarre image out of his head.

‘Oh, no!’ Aki said in a low voice.

‘Oh no what?’ Haruna said, and her voice now had a little nervousness in it.

‘That’s the Natsumi-is-bored-and-she-has-just-found-a-solution-for-it-grin,’ Aki explained.

‘Is there such a thing?’ Haruna furrowed her brows.

‘Oh, believe me, Haruna-san, there is. The last time it happened in its full action, she convinced her father that the soccer club was unnecessary and tried to shut it down. And we both know how that ended.’

‘That’s Raimon Natsumi’s true power,’ Kazemaru, who was sitting on Haruna’s other side, joined in. ‘She smiles, and we’re playing against Teikoku Gauken. She smiles, and we are the best team in Japan. She smiles, and the next thing we know is that we’re defending Earth from fake alien soldiers with frightening speed,’ he said with a slight displease in his voice. ‘No wonder everyone fears her,’ he added.

‘Hey, you three, what are you whispering about?’ Natsumi’s loud voice ended their conversation.

‘Nothing!’ they shouted in unison.

‘Well, then. Pay attention, especially, you Haruna-san, since it’s you’re task, if you hadn’t noticed it,’ Natsumi said, and Kogure snickered in the background.

‘So, what do you have in mind?’ Haruna asked resignedly.

‘Okay, so, you have to spin the bottle, and whoever the lid points to, you have to kiss them.’

A wave of roars flowed through the members of Inazuma Japan, everyone murmuring something under their breath.

‘Oh come on!’ Natsumi snapped. ‘It’s not like half of you don’t have a crush on her!’ she rolled her eyes.

‘What?’ Rika asked in serious shock, looking up from her phone. ‘I thought I was the one everyone had a crush on!’ she protested, looking around among the members, but everyone seemed to avoid her gaze. ‘Seriously?’ she asked angrily, snapped her phone shut, and left the group.

‘She’ll calm down,’ Touko waved with her hand, like it wasn’t a big deal. ‘Eventually,’ she added, grinning.

‘Well, let’s resume our game, I suggest. This has just turned much more interesting than I had ever hoped.’ Fudou’s grin was more vicious than ever.

‘Sorry to disappoint you,’ Kidou’s voice made everyone flinch. He was now standing next to Haruna, opposite Fudou.

‘And why’s that, Kidou-kun?’ Fudou raised a brow, staring right into the other strategist’s goggles.

‘Because Haruna will no longer participate in this,’ he said with a calm voice.

‘Won’t she?’ Fudou asked with an innocent smile and dripping voice.

‘Of course not. You crossed a certain line that should not be crossed,’ now he was looking at Natsumi, frowning. She just shrugged nonchalantly.

‘Oh come on, Onii-chan, it’s just a silly game!’ Haruna laughed nervously.

‘It’s not fair if she can refuse,’ Kogure protested suddenly.

‘Well, I fell off a tree just because of this game,’ Tachimukai murmured fiddling with his glove’s strap. ‘A kiss is not the end of the world.’

‘You think falling off a tree is a bigger sacrifice than kissing someone you don’t like?’ Touko asked, her eyes filled with anger.

‘I’m not saying that,’ Tachimukai held up his hands in surrender. ‘I’m just saying that we all made our sacrifices for this game.’

‘Yeah, we heard it, you fell off a tree. What a sacrifice!’ Touko rolled her eyes.

‘Anyway, I think Kogure’s right,’ Tsunami added. ‘I can’t believe I said this already two times this day,’ he chuckled. ‘Anyway, it’s not fair. Everyone took the risk. If Haruna-san chooses to dare then she has to dare. That’s the rule.’

‘Really, Onii-chan, it’s no big deal,’ she said, getting more and more uncomfortable with this situation. She really didn’t like this much attention.

‘Look, Haruna,’ Kidou started. ‘I’m happy that you started socializing and everything, but I don’t think…’

‘I don’t give a damn what you think!’ Haruna snapped. ‘I get that you’re trying to be the “big brother” for me, but you just have to accept that I’m no longer a kid. I’ve grown up Onii-chan; there’s no need to watch over me any more!’

‘All I’m saying is,’ Kidou hissed through gritted teeth ‘that I’d hate to punch someone from the team just because he kissed my sister.’

‘See, that’s your problem! You think that you always have to do something to protect me whenever I’m doing something! Just for once, you could mind your own business!’ she stomped in an attempt to add emphasis to her words.

‘Don’t tell me you want to kiss anyone out of these guys!’ Kidou sneered, while Tsunami protested with a loud ‘Hey!’ in the background.

‘So what if I do?’ Haruna screamed now, her voice filled with anger. For a brief moment, everybody froze holding back their breaths as silence fell on them.

‘Anyway, you’re too young for these kinds of things,’ Kidou said calmly.

‘I. Am. Not!’ she yelled. ‘I’m a teenager, for goodness sake! And this whole thing isn’t about me, it’s about you, trying to repress your guilt because you weren’t there for me in the first place! ’

‘No, it’s not!’ now Kidou was the one who lifted his voice up, which was such a rare occasion that the new members of Inazuma Japan gaped at them in awe.

‘Oh great. A family quarrel,’ Natsumi started massaging her temples. ‘Just what I needed.’

‘I don’t wanna play this game any more…’ Kabeyama started whining.

‘Shut it!’ Fudou’s yell rang so loudly that everyone stopped in mid-sentence, even Kidou and Haruna.

‘Now,’ Fudou said in a calm voice turning to Kidou. ‘Haruna-san wants to stay. There’s nothing you can do about it, Kidou-kun. You’d better accept that.’ Another mocking smile appeared on his face. ‘And by the way, the rules forbid leaving the game earlier than everyone else.’

‘Yeah.’ Kogure joined in, smiling cheekily. ‘The number of people start the game, the exact number has to finish it too,’ he grinned, but got immediately smacked on the head by Fudou.

‘You idiot,’ Fudou hissed. ‘Why did you say that?’

‘Hey, I said nothing wrong!’ Kogure protested, putting his hand on the spot where his skull was throbbing now. But then he saw Kidou’s smug expression, and now he wasn’t so sure. ‘Did I?’

Fudou didn’t answer, just rolled his eyes in response. He already knew what was on the genius gamemaker’s mind before he even said it.

‘Then I’ll take Haruna’s place!’ he declared in a stern voice. ‘The number will not change this way,’ he added with slight mockery in his tone.

‘You just don’t know when to let it go, do you?’ Haruna asked furiously. Kidou didn’t even flinch. ‘Fine, whatever!’ Haruna sighed. ‘You already ruined the mood anyway,’ she pouted and stomped away.

‘Tch,’ Fudou sneered. ‘Kidou Yuuto, ruining anything fun since eternity.’

Kidou didn’t respond, just sat down to Haruna’s place, right across Fudou.

‘Well then, let’s continue,’ Hiroto suggested reaching for the water bottle.

‘Not so fast, my redhead alien friend,’ Fudou chimed in. ‘Haruna-san here,’ he looked directly at Kidou then continued ‘hasn’t finished her turn yet.’

Kogure chuckled in the background, while some of the boys suddenly seemed to have caught a cold in this blazing heat, since they started choking.

‘It’s really not necessary,’ Natsumi added quickly and slightly flustered, waving dismissively. She regretted choosing this task as soon as she said it out loud, but she was too proud to back away. But now that the tables have turned, Natsumi wished nothing but to put an end to this game. It started to get more and more radical with every turn. The others seemed to notice it too. Kabeyama had already left for the bathroom, and a weird nervousness started to settle on the group.

‘Well it’s not necessary… if you’re a coward,’ Fudou added, his voice dripping.

Kidou didn’t even flinch just continued to stare into nowhere with a mildly annoyed expression.

‘I’m more than certain that anyone from the opponent teams would be eager to hear that Inazuma Japan’s genius midfielder backed away from a simple dare,’ Fudou flashed his predator-like grin again.

Kidou didn’t answer. With that usual unreadable expression of his, he lifted the bottle, faltering for a moment. He then placed it back on the grass and spun it, still without making a face. Everyone held back their breaths as they watched the bottle spinning, round and round and round, gradually losing its speed. They all stared in shock as the bottle finally stopped, the cap pointing to the one who initiated this whole mess.

‘Well, if this isn’t karma, I’ll eat my hairpin,’ Aki whispered.

‘Tch,’ Fudou sneered. ‘The irony,’ he commented staring at the blue cap, which was now pointing at him. He looked at Kidou who had a faint smile on his face. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t back away, Kidou-kun,’ he added mockingly.

‘Very well then,’ Kidou said as he stood up, followed by numerous gasps, and with a step he was now standing right in front of Fudou. He sat down crossing his legs, his cape billowing from the sudden movement. He firmly pushed his goggles to the top of his head revealing his glimmering crimson eyes, which caused another round of gasps among the members of Inazuma Japan.

‘How… forsightful of you,’ Fudou murmured.

‘Well, I can put them back if you want me to squeeze your eyes out with them,’ Kidou said dryly, his voice emotionless.

‘Tch. No thanks,’ Fudou hissed, but his tone lacked the usual edge.

‘Well, if I didn’t know you so well, I would say you had become insecure, Fudou-kun,’ Kidou mocked him with a small smile tugging at his lips.

‘Tch. You don’t know me,’ Fudou grunted but averted his gaze. He would rather die than to ever admit to his rival that he started to find this dare a stupid idea. He has never been kissed before, and he started to regret suggesting this imbecile game, which now backfired on him.

‘Well-well. I never thought that I would see the great Fudou Akio hesitate about anything,’ Kidou murmured in a low voice so only Fudou could hear it. Fudou swallowed hard trying to regain his composure. He will not let Kidou see him like this! He is already mocking him! This is a situation that would never occur under normal circumstances! How does he even dare to make fun of him? And what is wrong with himself?! He is way stronger than to get the wind up because of some simple dare! He will show Kidou!

Fudou lifted his head up, his eyes flaming with anger as he looked into Kidou’s ruby eyes.

‘Just shut up and kiss me,’ he spat.

‘If you insist so much,’ Kidou answered with ridicule in his voice. He leaned closer to Fudou only to make him involuntarily flinch. They were so close now that their noses almost touched, and Fudou felt heat rushing to his face. He struggled not to jump up and run away, not caring about his dignity or the supposedly laughing teammates. He looked at Kidou’s smug expression. He had no idea what the other strategist was thinking nor why he was so calm. It should be his first kiss too (at least that’s what Fudou hoped for), so he should be at least a little bit nervous! And Fudou should be able to see it, especially now that there was nothing to cover Kidou’s eyes. Damn, he shouldn’t radiate this much confidence… something was off…

But every thought of his was swept away as soon as he saw Kidou’s eyes flash for a second. Oh damn, here we go, he thought as he closed his eyes. A half second later he felt Kidou’s lips on… his forehead? What?

He couldn’t even form a coherent thought, and Kidou has already pulled back, leaving Fudou shocked.

‘What the hell?’ he exclaimed as he tried to gather his scattered thoughts. ‘That’s cheating!’

Kidou shrugged, smirking smugly again as he pushed back his goggles to his eyes. ‘Well, the task was to kiss you. It said nothing about the whereabouts of the kiss.’

Fuduo stared at Kidou, unable to even blink. They stood there eyeing each other for more than a half minute, when Fudou realized that breathing actually helps staying alive. Just as blinking. He took a deep breath and shook his head in disbelief. That cunning fox! He tricked him! And not just him, but he tricked the whole game.

‘Kidou Yuuto, always finding a let-out, aren’t we?’ he asked with a half-smile on his face. Kidou just shrugged in response, turned around, and started to walk back to his place.

Fudou tore his gaze away from Kidou’s red cape and started to wonder whether this was his plan all along. To get back at him. But how could he possibly know that the bottle would point at him? Or was this his plan all along, regardless of who the bottle cap would point at?

Or maybe…

‘You son of a bitch!’ he shouted as the realisation dawned on him.

Kidou stopped in his tracks, turned around, and raised a brow. ‘Excuse me?’

‘You bastard!’ Fudou repeated now with hints of anger in his voice. ‘You… you did this on purpose!’ he said, stuttering from the sudden rush of annoyance.

Kidou sighed. ‘Now what?’

‘You planned it!’ Fudou said pointing a finger at Kidou, still trying to convert his thoughts into words. ‘You spun the bottle such a way that it would point at me!’

‘Aren’t you a little bit paranoid, Fudou-kun?’ Kidou responded in a mocking tone, and he couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle at the end of the sentence.

‘But, did you do it?’ Fudou asked determined not to drop the question.

‘That’s impossible,’ Touko suddenly said. ‘He only lifted the bottle for a second. It’s way too little time to calculate the weight of the bottle, the speed of the spinning, not to mention that there is a thing called friction…’ she stopped in mid-sentence to glance at Kidou doubtingly.

‘It’s just physics,’ Kidou shrugged nonchalantly. ‘The base of every sport.’

‘Of course it is,’ Fudou sneered still shaking his head unbelievingly. ‘You tricked me, Kidou-kun,’ he said now in a serious tone staring into Kidou’s goggles to find his eyes. ‘You are one of those few people who succeeded at that. But let me tell you one thing; none of them ever got away with it. One way or another, this little trick of yours will backfire on you.’

A small smirk crept its way to Kidou’s face. ‘I’m sure you’ll think of something,’ he said. ‘Now if you’ll excuse me, I have tactics to figure out,’ he turned around and left, his red cape billowing dramatically at the pace of his steps.

‘Wait!’ Fudou shouted, and Kidou stopped walking. ‘You can’t just leave the game! That’s against the rules!’

‘You’re quite fond of rules, even though you’re the most likely to break them,’ Kidou said without turning around. He waved dismissively and continued his way to his place in the grass, leaving a snickering Inazuma Japan and a rather flustered and fuming Fudou behind.

#inazuma eleven #inazuma 11 #ina 11 #ina11 #ie #i11 #i 11 #kdfd #mystuff #fanfiction #kidou yuuto #kidou #fudou #fudou akio #kidou x fudou #fdkd

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tv-will-kill-me · 8 years

Text

It’s All In The Pitch Pt. 5

A/N: Welp, I'm a dumb liar who lies all the time. I don't even have an explanation for the ten years it's been, just that I'm the worst! Hopefully this extra long chapter makes up for the terribleness that I've been, and hopefully, hopefully, I'll have a chapter done before the next ice age. But don't me, again, sorry I'm gross!

Ginny wiped at the corner of her eye, her stomach cramping painfully as another bout of giggles raked through her. Her laughter didn't die away until she straightened, a lone chuckle passing through her lips as he grimaced.

"Wait," she pressed her hand down onto the counter, "what?"

"Move in with me," he repeated, his voice uncertain. "Although I guess I should take that as my answer."

"Mike," he arched an eyebrow, and if Ginny squinted just right she could almost see exactly when he began building his walls. "Okay, maybe the laughter wasn't great, but you've got to understand where I'm coming from here. This is all new to me."

"Right," he shook his head, "it's fine. It was a stupid idea." He stepped back and over to the sink, his knuckles white as he gripped one of the frying pans.

She came up behind him, laying a hand on his shoulder and craning forward until she caught his eye. "It's not, really. It's just…it's been weeks."

"It's felt like more and you know it."

"It does," she answered, her voice insistent as she spoke, "because I cared so much about you from the moment I first saw you play, but I never thought that some stupid crush could lead to anything. And then I spent so much time trying to convince myself that this couldn't work."

"Spare me the history lesson," he grunted, "I was there."

Her gaze skated over his face, her mouth brushing along the curve of his jaw. "Yeah, which means you know how long it took for me to realize that this was something I needed, and even when I did, I couldn't admit it because I thought if I let myself want something so bad, it would hurt."

"I would never hurt you," he mumbled darkly.

"No," she agreed, the corners of her mouth quirking up into a soft smile, "but it'll hurt us both if we rush this. So, maybe you clear out a drawer for me, I stop stealing your clothes, and you stop pouting."

He tugged up an eyebrow, casting a quick glance over to her before letting his bottom lip slip out. "I'm a grown ass man, Baker, I don't pout."

He twisted, his hands falling to her hips, and she barked out a laugh, nipping at his lip until she felt it curve into a smile. "You're one hundred percent pouting, and honestly, it's sort of hot."

"Yeah?" He murmured, his eyes crinkling as his smile grew.

She hummed, sagging into him as something that felt a lot like relief coursed through her. She wasn't sure when exactly she began to live for these quiet moments when those cracks in Mike's walls tumbled around them, leaving her with the man who's stare made her knees quiver and her heart thud. But she didn't question it, welcoming the warmth that pooled in her cheeks and radiated from his palm.

"You won't move in," he finally said, "but how about something smaller?"

"Smaller?"

"Smaller," he echoed, "let me take you out."

"Right," Ginny snorted, perching her chin on his chest.

"I'm serious, Gin. Tonight, you wear a dress, I put on a tie, and we actually leave this damn apartment and act like we're together. In public."

"Okay," the word popped out before she had the chance to leash it, taking them both by surprise as she blinked. "Give me a time and place, and I might actually show up."

He watched her, his eyebrow curving up as her lips spread into a glittering beam, slow like molasses and doing wicked things to his stomach. "What?" She asked, a giggle carrying on the current in her voice.

He shook his head, letting his hands drop from their place on her hips. "Nothing," he said, "you just – you never seize to amaze me."

With a roll of her eyes, she reached up and yanked on his beard. "Why don't you do the dishes before you start crying, Old Man?" She teased, whipping around and heading towards the room. "And how about you save the flattery for our date?"

He bit back a laugh, his attention moving away from the sway of her hips and over to the sink and his burnt kitchenware. Pushing away from the counter, he turned on the tap, letting the scalding water run over his hands and startling when he heard her squeak.

"Our date!" She squealed, her face open and shining with a quiet joy that he saved for later when he laid in bed and remembered to thank whoever or whatever was up there past the stars for bringing Ginny Baker into his life. "Okay," she said, forcing her smile away as she tried to contain her bubbling excitement. Still, he could see it brimming in her eyes, desperate for an escape as she shoved her hair from her forehead.

"Yeah, Baker?"

"Sorry," she threw out, looking anything but, "I'm just gonna – " she gestured vaguely behind her, backing away from him with her dimples out and in full throttle.

"You do that," he smirked, his skin bright red and smarting as he grabbed at the sponge. "Eight, this living room, don't be late."

Evelyn opened the door on the second insistent knock, her phone pressed to her ear and amusement sending her eyebrow skyrocketing. "Hey Mom, I'm going to have to call you back."

"Help," Ginny shouldered past her, her arms full and her earlier excitement giving way to agitated panic. "I don't have anything to wear." Ginny skirted around the toys littering the floor, the corner of her lips perking at the sight of the half-finished Ginny Baker puzzle. "I'm burning that, by the way."

"The clothes or the scattered pieces of your face on my hardwood floor?"

"The latter, but if you don't figure out what I'm leaving this house in, then it could definitely become both."

Plucking the make-up bag from Ginny before it had the chance to tumble to the ground, Evelyn nudged Ginny down onto the couch. She rolled her weight onto her left hip, cocking her head to the side and considering Ginny with a thoughtful expression. "First of all, the puzzle is Blip's, and it's the only way I got any peace and quiet this weekend."

"Weird, but I'll ignore it."

"And second, what's got you all…" she fluttered her fingers, letting Ginny fill in the blanks. "The last time you showed up like this, your mother was in town and wanted you and Kevin to do some 'family bonding'."

"And you picked my outfit without the inquisition," Ginny countered, nodding over to the pile of dresses she'd lugged over to the house with her. "And, just to sweeten the deal, I stopped by the mall before I came here and got all new make up," she sang.

"Please Gin, you can't distract me with Sephora." Still, her fingers brushed over the glossy plastic, wistful longing lighting on her face. "What's going on?"

Ginny squirmed, her eyes fluttering shut as Evelyn uncapped an eyeliner and began to drag the pencil along Ginny's eyelids. "I might have a date." She confessed after a moment, earning a stilling hand dropped onto her bouncing knee.

"Stop moving," Evelyn ordered, her tongue peeking out as she bent in closer. "Might?"

"Do," Ginny amended.

Evelyn chewed on her cheek to keep from shrieking. "With a man?"

"Yes with a man," Ginny shot back, huffing out an exasperated sigh.

"And…?" Evelyn prodded, her breath warming Ginny's cheek as she tucked a finger underneath Ginny's chin and tilted her head up.

Her lips fought to tug up into a smile at the image of Mike dancing through her mind. "And, I'm happy," she admitted, chewing on the inside of her cheek, "and sort of excited."

"That's all well and good, but I need details." Evelyn stepped back, the eyeliner dipping from her grip and a tube of mascara flipping between her fingers. "Is this the reason you've been impossible to pin down?"

Ginny's shoulders bumped up, another answer that she couldn't give, not really. Even if a part of her screamed to pull Evelyn to her side and let it all come rushing out. To let Evelyn explain how Ginny had allowed Mike to chip at the pieces of herself that she'd put up to protect herself from the very feelings coursing through her, wild and singing.

"Don't worry, you'll tell me," Evelyn promised. "I'm thinking a smoky eye."

"Sounds good," Ginny sighed, shoving past the lump of guilt that had settled on her tongue, tasting of all the words she longed to say but couldn't seem to get out. "Amelia's back." She said after a few minutes of quiet, her nose crinkling at the powder that Evelyn brushed across her cheeks.

"Like back back?"

"Like looking for an apartment as we speak."

Evelyn paused, eyes narrowing. "Since when?"

"Since it turns out that being the first female pitcher in the MLB just isn't what it used to be for my bank account." She quipped, fingers twitching at her side. "I don't know, a part of me doesn't even care, you know? Let someone else do the shoots and the spreads and the interviews. I just want to play ball, right?"

"Right," Evelyn stepped back, her eye critical as she studied Ginny's face. "But?"

"But, at the same time, it feels sort of like I'm moving backwards." She quieted long enough for Evelyn to paint her lips with red lipstick so bright she almost wiped it off. "Like, if everyone stops wanting a piece of me then – "

"Then you stop being the Ginny Baker and start being just you again?"

Ginny exhaled, gaze flashing up to Evelyn's. "I'm being an idiot."

"Yeah," Evelyn affirmed, "but that's why you have me around." Collapsing onto the couch beside Ginny, she peeked over at her friend, her expression twisting with wicked amusement. "What does Mike Lawson think about this?"

Ginny resisted the urge to stiffen, eyes trained to her nails. "Should he have an opinion?"

"Sure," Evelyn commented smoothly, "what with all his nighttime activities."

"You," Ginny declared, "have a dirty mind."

"Like you weren't thinking it," she laughed, tucking her leg underneath her as she twisted to face Ginny. "And you know he'll have something to say about who's got you all dolled up and giggly."

"Well, it's none of his business," Ginny shot back, her neck burning even as the lie slid out just as sarcastic and biting as if she'd meant it. "And whatever happens between Mike and Amelia isn't my business, or yours either."

"Right," Evelyn droned, rolling her eyes and pushing herself from the couch. "Come on, nothing you brought is right. We go through my closet fast enough and maybe I can do something with your hair."

Ginny let Evelyn wrap her fingers around her wrist and tug her up, her feet sluggish as Evelyn pulled her along. "What's wrong with my hair?"

Mike checked his watch for the third time in the last five minutes, a snort slipping past his lips. He should have figured he'd be kept waiting.

"Something funny?" He glanced up, his mouth drying as he drank Ginny in, surprised at how she still managed to catch him off guard. She shot him a sweet smile, her fingers tangling with the necklaces resting against her collarbone, and leaned back against the door, quirking an eyebrow at him.

"What?" He rasped.

"I asked," she started impishly, her grin dimming as his stare roved away from the mischievous glimmer burning in her eyes, "something funny?" He hummed, his gaze moving past the silken black material clinging to her torso and the golden mesh shorts hanging from her hips. She crossed one long leg in front of the other, and God help him, he forgot how to speak, how to breath, everything flying from his head save for how she looked and the way it would feel for those champagne heels to dig into his shoulders.

"Um," he blinked, hoping for a bit of clarity, "it's eight-fifteen."

"I know," she replied casually, "but it takes some time to look this good."

With his hands fidgeting at his side, he ground out a feverish, "right."

"Hot date?" She asked, cocking her head to the side, a mass of curled black hair tumbling over her exposed shoulder.

Clearing his throat, he stood. "You could say that."

"You could," Ginny hummed, each of her steps painfully, deliberately slow, "I'd also take gorgeous, beautiful…"

"Sexy," he rumbled, his voice buzzing down her spine and making her toes curl. "You look," he loosed a breath, scrubbing his hand across his forehead, "you look incredible."

"You have Evelyn to thank for that," she informed him, her face heating as his eyes cut a path down her throat as she swallowed, "didn't really have anything that passed her very high standards."

"And what does she think you're doing tonight?"

She inhaled, his hands warm as they slid along her waist. "She knows about the date, just not the who."

"So, she thinks you look like this," she wasn't sure if they would leave his house if he kept doing this, pinning her down with the fire raging in his gaze, threatening to consume them both, "for some idiot?"

"She thinks I look like this because I wanted to," she corrected him, "regardless of who I spend my time with."

"Course."

Biting back a smile, she shook her head and stepped out of his reach, the glide of his fingers against the slight sliver of skin he'd found setting her blood on boil. "You make reservations?"

"We can be late."

She lifted a finger, pressing it to his mouth before they found their mark. "You asked me on a date, and I didn't spend hours being poked and prodded to end up hanging out here." She huffed out a sigh as his lips parted, his tongue warm as it circled her finger. "L-lawson," she faltered, a warning in her voice even as her expression darkened. He smirked around her finger, nipping down one last time before letting her pull away.

"You're right," he purred, shoving one hand into his pocket and letting the rest against her lower back, "let's go."

He ushered her out, locking the door behind them with a chuckle booming through his chest as she grit out a stinging, "bastard."

He could feel as her mood shifted, her lips caught between her teeth as she tossed lingering looks over at him from over the gear shift. He trained his eyes to the road, his grip tightening on the steering wheel when she craned forward to fiddle with his music, her shorts skimming up her thigh inch by tantalizing inch.

"You have anything from this century?" She murmured. "No offense, but I can't listen to anymore Aerosmith"

"Since when do you have a problem with my music?"

She glanced over at him from over her shoulder, the smell of strawberries and chocolate wafting up from her hair. "Since just about always. "

"You want Top 40, you should have gone out with Drake."

"I still could," she simpered, "but your bed's too big for one person."

"We're here." He said, swinging into the parking lot and slamming his foot down on the break.

"Great," she grinned, the flash of her teeth so feral that it had his lungs gasping for air. "I'm starving."

Stepping out of the car on shaky legs, he watched as she rolled her shoulders back and tucked her purse in the crock of her elbow.

"Coming?" She tossed over to him, smiling as he jogged over to her side and offering him a hand.

"You're gonna be the death of me, Rookie, you know that?" He said, their fingers intertwining as they sauntered into the restaurant. She turned, a smartass comment resting on her tongue no doubt, when her eyes widened.

"Mike," she gasped, twisting as far as his hand would allow to soak in as much as she could, "it's beautiful."

He ripped his gaze from her face, trying to see the room as she did, from the soft, twinkling lights that glimmered from the ceiling to the notes that floated through the air from the singular violin player in the corner.

"Thanks," he murmured, something about the space dropping his voice to a gentle whisper.

They strolled between tables, littered with rose petals, warm from the glow of the red, crackling flames coming from the fireplace, and so full. Full of people laughing and drinking, their attention everywhere but on Ginny as Mike tugged her along. She frowned, her grasp on Mike tightening as a few glanced over at her only to look away, either unaware of who Ginny was or…or too absorbed in their own dinner to care. She felt herself relax at the thought even as it drew a perplexed grimace to her lips.

"I own it." He explained, hoping to smooth away the confusion wrinkling her forehead.

Ginny whipped around, her eyebrows drawing together. "Excuse me?"

He nodded her over to the seat in the center of the restaurant, sketching a bemused brow as she lowered herself into her chair, her amazement warring with the wariness creeping into her eyes. "I know how worried you were about people finding out about us so I wanted to show how much I appreciate this step."

"Flowers would have worked too," she breathed, giving the waiter a slight smile as he set a wine bottle down onto the table.

Mike shrugged, his finger tapping along the stem of his wineglass. "Don't see the point in them. Flowers die, figured this place would be here for a while."

She straightened, taking her menu and hugging it to her chest. "So you bought me a restaurant."

"Bought a restaurant that we can use," he modified, "and I figured it wouldn't exactly hurt my wallet in the long run. As for the diners, their dinner is on me tonight as long as they promised to mind their own business."

"You really didn't have to do all of this," Ginny said, even as that last slice of her heart, the piece that always seemed to whisper warnings in her ears, that told her not to fall, not too fast maybe not ever, seemed to quiet. It might rear its head later on, in the middle of the night when it could massage her fears and insecurities, but for now, with the light of the candle sending dancing shadows flickering across Mike's face, it was silent.

"Doesn't matter that I didn't have to," he said, his words like a caress deep inside her chest, "I wanted to."

She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. "Well," she said once she was certain the pressure behind her eyes was nothing more than that, "hopefully the food's good."

Mike threw his head back and laughed, something like relief ringing in the sound. "Come on, let's order."

Dinner went by faster than Ginny could have imagined, her cheeks straining from the strength of her smile. Maybe it was the way they seemed to fade to the background, the anonymity wrapping around her like a hug she hadn't known she'd needed. Or maybe it was how the biggest surprise of the night hadn't been the restaurant he'd handed her with a ribbon wrapped around it, but how a part of him that Ginny hadn't realized he'd kept hidden seemed to come alive as they sat there.

Perching her elbow on the table, she watched as Mike spoke, his lips wrapping carefully around words she'd never thought she'd hear coming from him. About the teacher in high school that seemed to have it out for him after he'd reared ended her car and how he still visited the woman that never stopped seeing him as the kid who talked too loudly in her classroom. And about the months it took to convince his mother to teach him how to bake, only for him blow up their microwave with inedible chocolate chip cookies. Even about the books he'd tucked underneath his pillow as a child, as if the words would twist into a dream as soon as he shut his eyes. He peeled himself apart, revealing layers and bits that she plucked up and saved in her heart.

"If I hadn't played baseball, I probably would have become…a gymnast," he decided, deftly stealing a piece of duck from her plate.

Her hand flew to her mouth, keeping her sip of wine in place as she snorted. "No."

"Oh yeah," he exclaimed, "you should see my handstand."

"I'd pay money to see that," she laughed, "like, really good money. You could stop investing in your pension plan."

He coughed, stroking his thumb along his bottom lip as he bit back a smile. "I meant you should've seen my handstand, when I was ten, the last time I did one without landing on my ass."

Resting her cheek in her palm, Ginny said, "I think you're going to have to let that dream go."

"I've found a way to keep myself preoccupied," Mike sniffed, inclining his chin as his gaze snagged on the waiter moving over to their table. "You finished?"

She glanced down at her near empty plate, popping one last cube of duck into her mouth before nodding. "I don't think my stomach could handle any more."

"Mr. Lawson," the waiter said warmly, his eyes kind as he smiled at Ginny, "will you two be having any dessert?"

"I could eat," Ginny beamed, ignoring Mike's chuckle as she waved away the menu the waiter tried to pass her. "What do you recommend?"

"The chocolate torte has always been a house favorite, and the personal choice of Mr. Lawson."

"Andrew, please, it's just Mike. Mr. Lawson was my deadbeat dad."

"It's that sense of humor that makes us forget your terrible tipping, sir."

Mike quirked an eyebrow. "You trying to embarrass me in front of my girl, Andy?"

"Of course not," he said, flicking a wink over to Ginny. "I would never."

"If you wanted to though," Ginny interrupted with a flutter of her eyelashes, "you could start with more stories and that chocolate torte."

Andrew nodded, a smirk playing across his lips. "Right away."

"So I'm guessing you've come here before?" Ginny asked, heat slipping up her neck as Mike shuffled his chair in closer to hers.

"Bout twice a week until I left for college," he answered, settling in beside her and dropping a hand to her knee. "My uncle used to own the place, then had to sell it after he made some bad investments. The old bastard loved running the restaurant, so I figured I'd buy it back when I had the money and the time to make it something better than the cheap hot dog place that took it over, but it sort of slipped my mind."

"Until?"

He stilled, his hand stopping its inching crawl up her thigh. "Until you made it clear that you were too humiliated by this ugly mug to head over to the deli with me."

"While in desperate need of a shave, your face is actually one of my favorite parts of the day."

"Don't get all mushy on me, Baker, I may barf up my dinner."

"All right," she replied, brushing the tip of her nose against his cheek, "as if you don't know you're cute." Her smile dimmed as his hand glided past the hem of her shorts, up and up and up and up in smooth strokes that had her legs parting.

"I try," he murmured, "although, if I'm being honest, I don't have to try too hard." His finger, blazing against her body, swept across her skin, teasing her like only he knew how.

"Mike," she chided, her back arching as he toyed with the lace of her panties.

"Hold still, you've got a little…" He bent towards her, catching her bottom lip between his teeth and sending his tongue across in a slow drag that stole the breath from her chest. "Wine," he finished, swiping at the corner of his mouth as he pulled back.

"Thanks," she exhaled, struggling to remember where they were, and that even though tonight was one of the first where she hadn't felt the sting of a hundred pairs of eyes on her back, she and Mike were still surrounded by people. People who were now…leaving?

Ginny shook off the haze Mike's gently probing fingers had spread through her head, frowning as her stare darted around. "What's going on?" She asked, shooting him a warning look as his nail scraped along the part of her that normally ripped a purr past her lips.

"They're taking their desserts to go." Dropping a napkin over her lap, he smiled benignly as Andrew walked over to them, his coat draped over his arm and a set of keys swaying from his fingertips. "Andy, this when we say goodnight?"

"Yes, sir. Kitchen staff is heading out and all the guests are gone, so the restaurant is yours."

Standing, Mike reached forward and slapped his palm against Andrew's. "Bad tipper my ass," he grumbled, Andrew's face lighting as he pulled his hand to his side and came back with a fifty.

"Have a lovely time, Mr. Lawson, Ms. Baker." He said, nodding to Ginny one last time before scurrying towards the door.

Mike waited for the jingle of the bells to quiet before turning to Ginny. "All right, Baker, hope you're ready to roll up your sleeves."

"Wait," Ginny said, jerking her chin down and trying to hide her surprise, "what?"

"Roll up your sleeves," he repeated, impatience rolling from him as he offered her a hand, "come on, we're got work to do."

"Work," she replied slowly, "exactly how I like to finish off every successful date…without dessert."

"Successful, huh?" He hummed, nudging her towards the double doors at the back of the restaurant. "You ain't seen nothing yet."

She pushed through the doors, casting her gaze around the tiny room. "A kitchen," she exclaimed, trying, and failing, to muster up some sort of enthusiasm.

"With loads of dirty dishes. I got them to close early with the promise of some free labor."

She peeked back at him, eyebrows furrowing and a frown puckering on her lips. "Shouldn't you have been able to do that without roping me into cleanup duty?"

"Probably," he agreed, "but a dinner this good needs to be worked for."

"Okay," she drawled, rolling her eyes as she pulled her shoulders back. She snapped her fingers at his arm, and he passed her the hair-tie he'd taken to wearing around his wrist for when she grew tired of the mass of curls tumbling into her eyes.

Tugging her hair back into a ponytail, she cocked a hip out. "I wash, you dry?"

He nodded, his gaze scalding on her skin and his expression darkening. She flicked the sleeves of her blouse up, and, spun around, letting the water run over the stacks of dirty plates. It wasn't lost on her that they'd been here only hours before, her lips on the back of his neck and his hands plunged in his kitchen sink.

"So," she started, uncertain of what to do with the energy swirling around in the pit of her stomach, "I know a little about your uncle, what about the rest of your family?" She loosed a gasp as his fingertips drifted along her waist, ghosting caresses that ended at the belt tied around her waist. "Or," she continued haltingly, "um, more about your uncle?" She offered, her voice so unusual in her ears, husky and full of an unnerving amount of want. "H-how'd he end up with this place? You talk to him much?"

"That's what you want to do?" His said, the breath tickling the shell of her ear and his fingers deftly undoing the button of her shorts. He pressed the pad of his thumb against the hem of her underwear, his jaw clenching at the feel of the lace. "You wanna discuss my uncle?"

"We're doing dishes," she puffed, wriggling her soapy hands at him just as his finger swiped over her clit. "This has…got to be…a health violation."

His mouth warm as he kissed along her neck, he said, "I don't think I can dry anymore."

She threw her head back and laughed, her giggles giving way to pants as his fingers dipped inside her, first one and then two in a lazy, languid pace. "You're. So. Corny," she grit out, her hips thrusting forward.

"No," he snarled, teeth scraping that spot behind her ear that made her vision blur around the edges. His hand tightened on her hips, keeping her still. "Not yet."

"Mike," she whined, the sound desperate, raw, pleading.

He fit his leg between hers, spreading her thighs apart, and rubbed his thumb along her clit, her heaving sighs dancing through his ears and tugging at his cock. Pushing his crotch against her, he ground against her ass as he plunged his fingers back into her, the swipe of his tongue over the pulse point on her neck matching the in and out of his fingers.

"Mike," she begged, her bottom lip caught between her teeth and her grip tight on the counter. "Please."

That aching moan was all he needed to twist her around capture her mouth with his own. She melted into the kiss, wet hands snaking along the collar of his shirt and tangling in his hair. Groaning, he pushed his hips against hers, the last of his restraint slipping as she shoved back, taking as much as she gave and then some.

It was why a frustrated growl slipped from his lips when Ginny shook her head, her hands pressing against his chest and pushing him back.

"Not here," she decided, her face twisting with mirthful hesitance. "You didn't buy a restaurant just so that we could shut it down."

"I won't tell if you won't," he protested, surging forward, only to be met with a look that was quickly becoming his least favorite; the one that dared him to argue after she'd made up her mind. "Baker," he ground out, frowning as he felt his control on the situation dissipate.

"I'm going to go," she dashed forward and grazed a kiss between his eyebrows, "and get some fresh air." Another on his nose. "And then we," she grinned, dropping yet another kiss to cheek, "will actually clean up this place like you promised all your wonderful employees." One last, lingering kiss against his lips, and then she was gone, making sure her shorts were in place before yanking the door that led to the alley open and stepping out.

"Mike," she barked underneath her breath, "motherfucking," she kicked at a pebble, feeling shaky, and needy, and everything all in huge, unbearable waves, "Lawson!" Resting her forehead against the wall, she prayed that the cool brick would extinguish some of the fire licking at her skin. And then she closed her eyes, suddenly back against the sink, saying yes instead of not right now like she wished she had.

Ginny sensed him before he spoke, the hairs on her arm standing at attention once his breath ruffled the back of her hair. Darkness seemed to swirl around him, matching the electricity batting between them, and it was all she could do to keep from gasping.

"How about here?" Mike asked, an inferno burning in his whisper. She twisted, cupping her hand against the back of his neck and tugging, sending him crashing down against her lips. She kissed him, hungry as his tongue stroked along hers. He groaned into her mouth, her back arching into his traveling hands, desperate in their search of her body: a brush against her hips, a caress on her waist, a squeeze of her ass, a pinch in the space where her thighs met.

"Mike," she shuddered as he yanked her shirt from where it was tucked into her shorts. He bit down on her lip, a teasing warning that had her swallowing her squeaks. He pawed at the hem of her shirt, the fabric rucked up over her chest and the chill in the air nipped at her hardened nipples before the warmth of his mouth chased away the cold. He let her squirm, considering her breast with that lethal focus of his, before he smirked.

"Right?" He mumbled, reaching down to tweak her nipple. She growled, and he chuckled against her skin, kissing a path down the valley between her breasts. "Left?" He sighed, his tongue darting over the mound of her breast and over to her pulsing nipple. "Right," he declared, shooting her an impish look before his head dipped back down and her breast was in his mouth. He sucked and licked, nibbling until she was a heaving, quivering mess.

"Stop," she hissed, hooking her leg around his waist and wrenching him closer, "playing with me." He glanced at her through his lashes, and she shot him a poisonous look, grinding her hips against his until that playful spark died in his eyes, only a manic longing left in its place.

Mike's gaze glued to hers, feeding into the glittering frenzy growing in her as he pushed her leg aside long enough to snake her shorts down. His pants followed suit and he hoisted her up, using the wall as leverage and feeling for the wet heat between her legs.

"Your back?" She ground out, interlocking her arms behind his neck and sucking in breath as he pushed into her.

He exhaled through his nose, a long stream of air that tickled her collarbone. "What about it?" And then he rolled his hips.

Ginny trembled, sinking down onto his cock only for him to slam into her again, the sound of their slick skin slapping together filling the air. She cried out and he swallowed the moan, surging his mouth against hers and swirling his tongue around hers. Her thighs quivering, she tightened her hands on his shoulders him a wicked smile, tilting her head to the side. He braced, and yet that still wasn't enough as she pushed off from the wall and sunk down on his cock only to pull up again, her breasts bouncing as she rode him within a near inch of his sanity.

"Gin," he grunted, his knees weakening as her pussy milked his cock, her hands splayed across his chest and her head thrown back. "I can't…"

She paused, concern flashing through the fog of lust surrounding the last ten minutes. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he stuttered, even as a spasm of pain rocketed through his back. Squinting, she gave an experimental rock of her hips and his knees buckled, jamming his hand against the wall to keep them upright. "Fuck!"

Ginny's legs dropped, her toes pressing to the ground. "It's okay, we can head home."

"Really," he pleaded, "I'm fine." There was no way he would let this moment pass, Ginny Baker half naked with the moon at his back and the breeze cooling the sweat on his skin. He stroked his thumb along her nipple, but she smacked at his wrist.

"Come on, Old Man," she teased gently, a tremor passing through Mike as he worked to keep his expression neutral. "Hurry up and I'll show you how much better it can be with a bed."

He frowned, but she grasped his chin and tilted it down, a nod and a compromise that he was reluctant to admit he needed. "You drive a hard bargain, Baker."

Something deep inside her squeezed, and she fluttered around his throbbing dick. "Do I?" She asked innocuously, her lashes batting and her smile saccharine.

"Don't do that," he warned, feeling that familiar pressure building in his back, "and I'm gonna need you to hop off," the pain built, not unlike the surge of heat that had been cresting threw his abdomen moments before.

"Wait, just – " She wriggled, laughter in her voice.

"Agh, Ginny I can't – " And as Ginny pulled him out, his legs gave out, crippling agony rippling across his lower back and making his muscles cramp.

They went crashing down, Mike twisting to take the brunt of the fall and a grunt pulling from his lips as she landed on him. He let his eyes slip shut, saturating in the humiliation of what was supposed to be a romantic night as water soaked into his pants and Ginny's hair tickled the bottom of his nose.

And then the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard floated up to his ears, curling the corners of his mouth even with his cheeks hot with mortification. Ginny snorted, which turned quickly to a giggle that gave way to that peal of horsey laughter that shook her body all the way down to their intertwined legs.

"You think this is funny?" Mike asked, his eyebrow darting up to the night sky.

She perched her chin on his chest, her beam obnoxiously bright. "My shorts are around my ankles, I've got alley water in my hair, and I'm pretty sure I'm gonna have to haul your geriatric ass up from the ground, but yes. I think this is incredibly funny, and sweet, and probably the most ridiculous date I've ever been on."

"I've got things trying to slither up my ass crack, Baker, your point?"

She heaved out a sigh, hopping up and fixing her clothes before offering him a hand. "My point," she said, hoisting him up and yanking his pants into place, "is that you're sweet for trying," she continued, making sure he was tucked in before buttoning the two ends of his pants together, "albeit absurdly misguided." Swiping at the dirt on his cheek, she shook her head. "If this is what the woman of San Diego are getting, then I'm seriously going to have to fact check those rave reviews I've been hearing."

She shivered and Mike slung his sports coat off, draping it over her shoulder and ignoring the patch of mud clinging to the right arm. "Can we just forget about this?" He asked, nodding towards the door. "Please?"

"You know, there were whispers of you being cheap a while back," she replied, whirling around to face him as they walked. "Didn't think that extended to hotel rooms. Geez, Lawson, you could have let me know you were low on cash, I would have much rather gotten a bed than a restaurant."

He shoved the door open and she ducked underneath his arm. "You're never gonna let this go?"

"Nope," she said, hopping onto the counter and kicking out her legs. He glanced down at those same champagne heels that had taken up so much of his thoughts, the gold now flecked with mud. He reached for a glass, filling it with water and pressing it to her hand, trying to decide if he lied her shoes better that way.

"Even if I ask nicely?" He protested, cupping her cheek in his hand. She leaned into his touch, her hair straining from its ponytail and tumbling into her eyes.

"Even if you do all the dishes?" She offered, taking a sip of water before tapping the glass against his bottom lip. "And maybe answer a question or two?"

He groaned, burying the tip of his nose into her hair before ghosting a kiss against her forehead. "A question?"

"Or two," she repeated, her neck craning as she stretched.

"First things first," he said, examining the bump just underneath her hairline. "You flinched just now." Her forehead wrinkled as she frowned, watching as he grabbed a paper towel and wrapped it around a handful of ice.

"I'm okay," she protested, waving away the ice pack.

"Baker," he ground out, his voice leaving little room for argument, "hold this while I check out your arm, and no backchat, alright?"

"Aye-aye, couch," she grumbled, smoothing it limply against her skin and waiting for him to look away poking her tongue out at him. She quieted, considering him carefully as he eyed her arm, his gaze critical as he poked at her bicep.

"Seems okay," he proclaimed, setting it gently at her side, "now your questions."

She dropped the icepack to her lap, fingers tearing at the edge of the napkin. "You ever think about it, what you'll do after you…"

"Retire?" He supplied for her, his shoulders shifting as he thought of an answer. "Not when I don't have to. It's not as easy to ignore when my knees give out when I'm having sex with a pretty girl, huh?"

"For either of us," she added, Mike's hand itching to trace the edges of her dimple.

"Besides," he went on as if she'd never spoken, "I'm no better at sports casting than I was on first base, and that was always the plan."

"And now?" She cocked her head to the side, blinking up at him as his lips pursed.

"I'll let you know when I have it figured out."

She waited, counting out his breaths before her words found their way back out. "And you wouldn't want to coach?" She asked, reaching for his hand and brushing a kiss to his palm. "Wouldn't want to be the next Skip?"

He focused on the feel of her lips against his skin, warm and achingly soft. "I think about it sometimes," he admitted, "but I imagine some little punk like Livan coming up, thinking they know everything in the world, and all I want is to set them straight. To make them see that they can't be great, not on their own, not without putting the team first."

"And that's bad?"

"No," he shrugged, "it'll probably be exactly what those jerks need. But then they'd step on my field, and someone else would crouch behind my plate, sending calls to my pitcher," she ducked her head, her smile bashful, "and I would miss it too much."

"But it's not like you can just walk away either," she argued. "Being a ballplayers being the best, it's in your blood, just like it's in mine."

He tensed, the soothing circles she rubbed against his arm doing nothing with the fresh wave of anxiety rolling through him. "I don't really want to think about this right now."

"Okay," she said, "but when you do, I'll be here." She pat his cheek, sliding down from the counter before nestling against him, her arms wrapping around his waist and her forehead on his chest. "Oh," she cried, pulling back, "I'm not helping clean up, just, by the way."

"Dessert's in the oven," he grunted, a reluctant smile perking on his lips. "Chocolate."

"I'll make sure to leave Andrew a thank you card." She laughed, falling back against the counter as he inched away, his eyes trained to hers. "And hey," she added, tearing her gaze away long enough to go to the oven and pull out the tortes, "think you can manage to keep your hands to yourself this time?"

His shoulders shook as he chuckled. "Yeah, yeah," he scoffed, "we'll see."

#Bawson #Bawson fic #It's All In The Pitch #Ginny Baker #Mike Lawson #Ginny x Mike #Fay Writes Things

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