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i-love-you-all · 3 years ago

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Aftershocks pt.2

Hey, this is a continuation of the first part of this story which can be found here. The bad ending shows up before the good one so if you want to skip one or another, feel free! Also should mention that I kinda got this idea off the lovely anons who send Sova/breach hc’s to @ninadrawsstuff. I normally don’t write angst when it comes to this ship but...

Rated M, ~2k words, Breach/Sova, implied death.

It went wrong when Skye pulled him away as soon as the debrief ended.

Breach was so bored just moments before with thoughts of Sova’s smile and warm hugs muddling his brain. Not that he was obsessed with Sova, but it had been weeks since he had seen him, or even exchanged words. It didn’t worry him at the time because Sova was on his own mission, and probably couldn’t find the time, and as cliché as it was, he didn’t want a poorly timed text message to ruin Sova’s plans. And either way, it was Sova. The man was a soldier in every sense of the word. He could beat Breach in close quarters combat, had the stamina of a workhorse, and possessed the conviction of one of those superheroes Breach liked to compare him to. Sova was a superhero. Breach didn’t need to worry about him.

He should’ve been worried though.

“Breach…”

He should’ve known in advance too just from that tone of voice. She never approached him with such regret What she said next made him take a step back, chest tightening, and fists clenched. Because…

Because there was no way that Sova, the man with that radiant smile and bright eyes, the man with the soothing voice and stubborn confidence in his team – in Breach – was gone.

“…I told him he wasn’t the hunter of anything but…” He left Skye without finishing his poorly constructed sarcasm.

No way.

Adjusting would’ve been hard for anyone in his situation. It was worse when no one else even knew how deeply they were connected. Skye… She tried, but even the nature girl wouldn’t be around to keep Breach safe from the comments about his behaviour forever. People judged him for a lot of things in his past. Here, they judged him because of his rough words and arrogance. They judged him for his insults on all their characters, but mostly Sova. Apparently, he wasn’t allowed to mourn the loss like the rest of them. They didn’t even bother updating him on any plans or news about Sova. And the worst part of all was that he had to go along with it.

Skye would tell him otherwise Sova probably would’ve told him otherwise, but a small part of him wondered if he was the reason why the mission had failed. From the moment he confessed to Sova that he had indeed felt the same way about him to now, Breach had grown softer. He could feel it. Sova’s patience and kindness was rotting Breach’s abrasiveness and contempt. A lot of things had changed. He didn’t call Killjoy “nerd” anymore unless he was genuinely teasing her. He hadn’t called Omen a freak since the day Sova called him out on it. And he was listening to Brimstone more often while talking back less. Or as much as he could stand. And if Sova’s genuine goodness was soaking into his everyday life…

Please for the love of… anything – everything… Sova wouldn’t take risks that he didn’t think would work in his favour, right? There was no way Breach had infected his core morals because Sova had to have been too strong for that. Sova wasn’t reckless, he wasn’t cocky. But it still nagged at the back of Breach’s mind when he wondered if Sova had made a move that only Breach could’ve lived form.

And if he did, why couldn’t Sova have just… thought? Why would Sova just throw himself at death? People loved him – people other than just Breach. Was he so willing to throw away their feelings so he could play a hero? Or why couldn’t Sova have gone with backup? One person missions were rare for a reason these days and for a good reason. Why would he agree to something so risky – especially when he knew that Breach needed him more than he needed to breathe.

Breach cried for the first time in years. And it happened regularly to the point where others assumed he was drinking himself under every night. In the mornings, he would get up and realize there was no one to hold, no one to kiss and whisper good morning to, and it would make him plop back onto his bed. Even while sprawled on his back, it hurt because he knew that if things were normal, he wouldn’t have the room to starfish like this. He would just lay there until Skye came by and physically dragged him out of bed. Eventually, Brim must’ve caught on and thought that Breach was bored. The next day, he got ready for another mission.

He didn’t think about how the last time he did this, Sova was here to finish the braid. Nor did he think about how warm Sova’s body was when he leaned back into his boyfriend. He definitely didn’t think about how the smell… it just wasn’t there. There was nothing to smell but the oil from last nights tuning.

But the mission did offer him clarity. Clarity in the form of revenge.

“What did you do to him?”

Breach stared down at his double. He had managed to disable the other’s arms rendering him near useless, and, if they were the same, likely panicked.

“Make me ask that again, and I’ll shoot right here,” he growled, pointing his gun down at the point between other Breach’s legs.

The other clenched his teeth. “Protective, aren’t you? This show you’re trying to put on is just pathetic.”

“Talk.”

Other Breach tensed when Breach fired a couple rounds just below the intended target.

“He walked through a rift. I sent him back through it as a puddle to god knows where.”

And just the thought of it… Breach knew the kinds of messes he could do with his arms… If this Breach really did that to Sova—

“Worried over that weakling?”

Breach took aim and shot, ignoring the howl of pain and whimpers. “Learn your lesson. That Sova’s mine.”

Other Breach was panting, hand covering the wound and glaring back up at Breach. “Was. That Sova was yours.”

He just needed one bullet to shut him up. He had his answers. Brim was not impressed with how he got them, but they were a place to start.

One day and three hours. That’s how long it took for KJ to track down the recent record of rifts and located the one nearest to where Sova had been deployed. From there, Breach could do nothing but pace in his room while waiting for news. Others apparently cared more about Sova than him, and while that was laughable, it was what they had decided. By minimizing his feelings though, it forced him to consider the possibility of… he didn’t want to say.

Bad ending:

The news was almost worse than not knowing. When the returned, Skye wouldn’t even let Breach into the same room where Sage was working. Radiants had a limit to their powers. The more powerful it was, the more rules it generally had, and Sage’s resurrection abilities required a mostly intact body.

Sova’s did not qualify for that.

That was all Skye told him.

There was never a point in his life where his body felt like it belonged to someone else. Right now, his body was fine. It went through the same routine as he did every day, and as far as others could tell, it was normal. Breach was fine. Except he wasn’t. He was trapped, unable to do anything but think about how lonely he was now while his body just kept moving without intent.

And in that low moment of darkness, despair, and anguish, he made a vow to both himself and the now empty room three doors down from him. That other Breach was going to taste the absolute emptiness that Breach was feeling now. His missions were going to be impossible, and… It’d be hard, but Breach was going to punish the other Sova like how his was treated. Maybe with enough rounds and missions, he would properly return the favour that other Breach had done.

Because no one should’ve been able to touch the Sova now being prepared to be sent back to his motherland. Only he was allowed to…

That Sova was his, and he’d make the other Earth agents wish that his Sova was still here.

Good ending:

It’d be close. That’s all he was told

Skye kept him away from the med bay and surprisingly also off of missions. It forced Breach to agonize over the possibility of it not going the way he wanted it to. And while he felt sorry for Skye and Sage, the fact that they were still working meant something. He wouldn’t deny the fact that he was much nicer to the two women over that week.

Finally, one night, he was woken up by a knock on the door. To his surprise, it was Sage who had come to bring him to the room where Sova was being kept for now.

“Yours was the first name he said,” she told him, holding the door open. “I will not ask why but go see him.”

He nodded, and walked in, hearing the door click close behind him.

Sova was so bandaged up that he almost didn’t recognize him.

“Sova,” he gently called, reaching out for his hand.

He froze when he saw Sova flinch away from him. Right. It was his clone after all that did this. “It’s me.”

He sat at the edge of the bed, hands resting on the mattress but not touching Sova. Breach sat there for minutes, not saying a word, just taking in the view of his lover… alive and in front of him. Eventually, he saw Sova reach for his hands, and he finally leaned in closer, taking in the smells of chemicals, rubbing alcohol, and dried blood. He pecked Sova’s cheek and smiled at how the other man tried to chase him as he pulled back.

“You had me worried there for a moment,” Breach murmured.

“Perhaps I should die more often. You’re very quiet for once.”

It was a joke. He knew that. But it didn’t stop him from taking a deep inhale and clenching his fists. Going forward, this was a topic neither could joke about. That’s what his reaction meant. Sova reached out for his torso, right where the ribs were and pressed it softly against him.

When he leaned in again to fully place his lips on Sova’s, he heard the other man whisper, “I did not mean to make you worry.”

“The next time you meet him,” Breach growled, “Remind him that you’re mine. And what he does to you, I’ll do to him times a hundred.”

“I was not aware I was something that could belong to you.” Sova was whispering so quietly it was hard for Breach to hear. That, and there was hardly a second for him to speak while Breach was so intent on lavishing him with attention, keeping his mouth occupied.

“You belong to me until you say otherwise.” He looked Sova in the eyes and realized that he could not possibly convey the absolute despair that he was almost sent to when Sova didn’t come back. “But I’m so great that you won’t want to leave.”

He returned to give him small pecks and kisses to make Sova smile until he passed out again. Sage found him resting with his head leaned all the way back and hand still linked with Sova’s. His initial panic at being found out was quelled with a soft hand on his shoulder.

“This is not my secret to give away.” Her looked turned more apologetic. “I’m sorry. I thought at first that…”

“It’s fine, Sage.” He kept his voice quiet as to not wake his sleeping beauty. “Skye’s been giving me updates on him. As long as he’s ok… thank you.”

He woke up in his own bed again, but this time with the familiar blue cape draped over Breach like a blanket, and for the first time, he could smell the scent of Sova’s shampoo mixed with his cologne. It wouldn’t be one last memory with Sova until he left for good. And he hadn't left for good. Not yet, and not while Breach was still breathing.

#valorant #valorant fanfic #Breach #sova #Sova/Breach #my writing #angst #possible happy ending #also a bad ending #hope there aren't too many mistakes/typos lol

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heyyy-hey-babyyy · 4 years ago

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Forever After All

Summary: Dean's sure of two truths in this world. 1) Bert and Ernie are gay and 2) nothing lasts forever. It isn’t until you come back into his life that he begins to have second thoughts. Maybe some things last forever after all.

Based on the song “Forever After All” by Luke Combs (lyrics italicized).

Pairing: Dean x fem!reader

Warnings: Mentions of drinking

5,100 words

B/N: I really liked writing the flashback, childhood portions of my previous series “When We Were Young.” This isn’t the same reader I was imagining there (I know I shouldn’t imagine reader inserts...), but I’d like to do some similar ‘reader grows up with Dean and Sam’ type of plot with this story, so if you liked “When We Were Young” I’ve tagged you here too!

Sam was drilling Dean again for reasons why he wouldn’t find someone to settle down with. They were sat at the war table nursing a few beers, and Dean kept shifting under his brother’s gaze.

“Dean, come on.” Sam stated with a huff, noticing his brother’s irritation, but he wasn’t going to back down this time. “You know that I have always thought the same way you have. But then I met Eileen, and I don’t know man,” Sam took a long swig of his beer to hide the smile from his brother that crept onto his face, as he thought of Eileen. “Some things just change.”

Dean scoffed, downing the last few swigs his beer and rolling the empty bottle between his hands, really taking in his brother’s words this time. He let out a long sigh, “I don’t know, Sammy. Nothing lasts forever. Hell, a good beer’s got 12 ounces, a good cars got maybe 300,000. You only get so much until it’s gone.” Dean shrugged simply, lost in his own head this time, considering the words he was telling his brother. Nothing lasted forever, so why bother, right? Sam stood up from his seat, defeated, when a different smile jumped to his mind, just for a moment, giving him an idea of how he might convince his brother that some things last forever after all.

“What about, Y/N? Seems as though you’ve continued to think about her? Maybe she’s your forever?” Dean perked up hearing your name but settled his face into a scowl, not having a clever retort for his brother this time. Sam smirked back in victory, but it didn’t matter. Dean was already lost in memories of you.

You, Dean, and Sam had grown up together. You were closer to Sam’s age, but hung around Dean whenever you and your dad happened to be in the same town, following the same monster John was. John and your dad would go out and get drunk, and you’d be stuck in your hotel room, so Dean and Sam would sneak over, smuggling whatever snacks they could and watching old reruns of I Love Lucy on the staticky tube TV. Seeing you became one of the only constants in Sam and Dean’s life, and as he got older his excitement seeing you changed into something more. Sam adored you because you gave him the attention he craved, giggling at his newest ‘knock, knock’ jokes and putting up with his nerdiness. But Dean’s feelings were more complicated. When Sam left for Stanford, you really had become the only thing worth a damn in Dean’s life, and running into you during a hunt was the only thing keeping him in the passenger seat of the Impala, letting John drag him across the country.

Dean smiled simply into his empty beer bottle, forgetting there was nothing left for it to still be attached to his lips. He hadn’t spoken with you in so long, it seemed like you were really only in his memories. Like he was simply imagining you.

Last he heard, after your dad died, you continued hunting for awhile, mostly spirits easy salt and burns, like your dad used to. The brothers had ran into you about six or so years back, and Sam had begged you to hunt with them, citing your research expertise and describing the bunker, but you merely shrugged him off, eyes locked on Dean while you reminded both of them that you had grown up on the road, and the bunker was “no place for a girl like me.” Dean loved how wild you were, so he didn’t say anything one way or the other to convince you. And with a small flourish, you got into your beat up Jeep and sped away. That was the last time Dean saw you. He had heard through the grapevine that you ended up with some sort of journalism job that allowed you to travel, and keep up with some of the cases that might attract hunters. Dean wasn’t sure if you still participated in the hunt, but he knew from their small hunter circle that you passed on the occasional case to other’s when you were on your way out of whatever town had the latest breaking news.

Thinking back on these memories had Dean pulling out his phone and scrolling until he found your name. Wanting more than anything to hear your voice he hovered over your contact, but decided at the last second to send you a text instead.

<<Hey. I know it’s late. Up for a call?

He waited for a few minutes, staring at his screen before you responded, his phone making an excited ping sound.

<<Hey you! :) You know I’m always down for hearing from you, Winchester.

Dean smiled, hearing your voice ring through the text, always calling him Winchester, emphasis placed on the chester, almost like it was his first name. Before he could think too much, the picture he had as your caller I.D. popped up on the screen, [Y/H/C] hair wild, eyes squinting at the sun, while you gave him a questioning look. It was his favorite picture of you. Dean pressed the green button on the phone screen and waited for you to speak.

“Called you first.” Dean could hear the teasing note to your voice, and he felt himself grinning like an idiot. Something about you had all of his walls crumbling down around him.

“I miss you, Y/N.” He blurted out, his mouth and heart working faster than his mind. There was a pause on your end, but you spoke before Dean could regret telling his truth for too long.

“Oh, love. You know I miss you always.” There had never been anything physical between you and Dean, but the feelings seemed to always exist, growing as you realized what having feelings for another person felt like. There had been a few rare moments, mostly when you were younger, that you had fallen asleep across Dean’s chest and he kept you close to him throughout the night. And it was no secret to anyone that you and him were the only people the other completely broke in front of. You when your dad died, and him after Sam went off to college, and when John died. You had always held a special connection where you were safe to be yourself with the other. Dean loved you with everything that he had, and after what Sam had said, he knew you were his one chance at a forever.

“Come see me.” Dean blurted out again, adding a quiet, desperate ‘please,’ to the end, which made you breathe out a soft laugh.

“Alright.” You responded, trying your best to sound like you were resigning to Dean rather than sounding happier than you’d been in awhile thinking about seeing the older Winchester. “I get the room right next to yours this time, though. The other room was cold, and you were way too far away!” Dean smirked at your request. Anyone else would sound desperate, but you had a way of unintentionally making the people around you compete for your attention, and you were never shy about who you did and did not want to see.

Dean could hear your pout and he smiled, promising and leaning into your demands. You sounded satisfied, but weren’t ready to let Dean off the phone. He heard shuffling as you moved around whatever hotel you were likely staying in, stuffing your belongings into the same white and black polka dot duffle bag Dean had bought you for your thirteen birthday. When you spoke, you sounded far away, but Dean caught your order for him to “tell a story” while you packed.

“Okay,” Dean said thinking about what story he should tell, when a specific memory jumped to his mind. “Do you remember that time we boosted the Impala to go see the Northern Lights?” Dean could hear you giggling from far away, before you approached the phone openly laughing, “and we got it stuck in the mud and had to call John to come help us! What were we 15?”

Dean scoffed, feigning annoyance. “Maybe you were 15, I was almost 18!” You scoffed back in response, and Dean heard the rustle of fabric, knowing you were throwing your clothes into the duffle rather than folding them because ‘they just get wrinkled either way!’ He decided to continue telling the story whether you were listening right now or not.

“It’s one of my favorite memories because while we waited for my dad, we just sat on the hood of the car and looked up at the stars...” He trailed off remembering feeling like nothing in the world mattered but Y/N in those moments of peace. Dean had been young then, but he knew what he wanted and you were it. It just happened that your lives drifted a part shortly after that. John went on more risky hunts, desperate to find yellow eyes, and you and your dad kept taking care of the salt and burns. You two hadn’t crossed paths much after that.

You hadn’t responded to what he said before, so he figured you were away from the phone, but suddenly he wanted to remember more of that moment.

“I hated the world so much during that time. Dad was desperate to find the thing that killed mom, and I could tell Sam wanted more and more out of this life. My family felt like it was falling a part, and I remember thinking that you were one of the only solid things in my life.” It was all true, and though Dean didn’t keep things from you, it wasn’t something he was entirely open about before. The line was silent, so Dean cleared his throat of any lingering emotions, hoping in that moment, that you hadn’t heard what he confessed.

“Okay, Y/N! Enough packing. Get into your car and drive. There’s still plenty of the night left to drink together.” Dean heard you giggle on the other end and you promised to drive safe before hanging up.

He grabbed another beer from the fridge and sat back down prepared to wait in the war room so he could see you as soon as you stepped inside the bunker. You were only about an hour or so away, and with Sam back in his room, there was plenty of time to think through his thoughts. Sam would be ecstatic to see you, and Dean decided to keep it a surprise, hoping you weren’t texting Sam or something, promising to watch his nerdy movies with him when you got here. Though you had been one of the only static things in Dean’s life, you had also constantly been there for Sam. Dean remembered the anger he felt when Sam let slip about a time you had visited him at Stanford, confessing that both him and you talked often, when he couldn’t even be bothered to pick up the phone for Dean or John. Dean got over it quickly, because he didn’t blame Sam. You weren’t someone that either of them could just forget about and move on. And Dean knew that you and Sam still talked, even though it had been years since Dean picked up the phone himself. He didn’t know what stopped him from reaching out, now that the smile was plastered on his face thinking of you walking through the bunker door.

Dean glanced down at his watch, a half hour had passed with him lost in thoughts, his beer warming on the war room table. He hoped you were driving fast as he chugged the warm beer, and rose to get another, when Sam emerged into the room. His hair was dripping into his eyes from his recent shower, and he glanced at the two empty beers on the table in confusion. Sam knew that he had been in his room on the phone for almost an hour, and had taken a shower, and Dean had only drunk one other beer? Sam figured it was turning into a ‘drowning himself’ type of night for the older hunter, but when he caught eyes with Dean, they almost sparkled, excitement evident on his face. Sam couldn’t help but smirk at how happy his brother looked.

“What’s going on?” He asked quietly, coming fully into the room, trying to keep a sense of awareness, hoping his brother wasn’t about to prank him. Dean quickly changed his face to look more brooding but the creases at his eyes gave him away, and Sam wasn’t buying it.

“Dean, what did you do?” Dean looked offended, openly gaping at Sam in mock horror, making his younger brother roll his eyes.

“What?” Dean asked raising his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t do anything. Can’t a guy just sit and enjoy a beer?” He sat back down, even though Sam was witness to him attempting to grab another beer from the kitchen a second ago.

“Sure,” Sam replied, a little bit of a drawl appearing on the ‘r.’ “But one beer? I figured from your mood before you’d be at least a six-pack deep by now.” Sam kept talking as he walked to the kitchen and grabbed a beer from himself and one for Dean, returning to sit across from his brother where he left a few hours before. He uncapped his beer and took a swig. “Or did I have you thinking too much about Y/N and you got lost in your own thoughts?” Dean glanced around clearly about to lie to his brother, and Sam chuckled knowing he was right.

“I told you she was your forever.”

Neither brother heard the front door open as you expertly snuck into the bunker and leaned over the railing to stare at the two men below. They looked exactly how you remembered them, just a bit older, and Sam looked like he maybe cut his hair shorter. You wanted to let them talk a bit more, clearly lost in their own conversation, but you were too excited to see both brothers and your mouth opened before you could stop it.

“Y’all aren’t talking about me, are you?”Dean just about dropped the bottle he was raising to his lips, instantly getting to his feet as you stumbled down the stairs just as quickly, suddenly needing the older Winchester’s arms around you. People could say what they wanted about Dean Winchester, but he was, and always had been, your comfort. Dean met you at the bottom, catching you easily as you launched yourself into his arms, avoiding the last three stairs. You felt him chuckle lowly as you clung to him, your entire existence missing the man holding you just as tight to him.

Sam was still sitting, a crease forming between his eyebrows, and you gave him a lopsided smile, scrunching up your nose, as Dean released you.

“What, I don’t get a hug from my favorite Winchester?” You asked, poking Dean in the ribs with your elbow when he pouted loudly at your words. Sam still looked shocked, but his mouth was moving into a huge smile, and he stood opening his arms. You hugged the younger Winchester back softly as he wrapped his arms fully around you. You barely reached to Sam’s chest, but he rested his head on top of yours and you squeezed him back, communicating silently that you missed him too. Sam released you, almost reluctantly, and you glanced between the two brothers who were clearly having a silent conversation of their own.

“Well, Winchesters,” You began interrupting the weird looks they were giving each other.

“You have me for a few days! What’s first?”

------

You had only meant to stay a few days, then return to your life. Turns out that was harder than you would have ever thought.

The first night in the bunker, Dean grabbed you a drink and ushered you and Sam into the aptly named ‘Dean Cave,’ which was complete with a large couch and recliner, the latter of which Sam claimed instantly. You grumbled jokingly about having to share with Dean, but you caught the small smile Dean wore when you sat next to him and curled your legs up under you. Sam begrudgingly let his brother choose the movie and you were both in hysterics as Dean acted out every scene in Die Hard, including donning a horrible German accent for the Hans Gruber parts.

It was about halfway through the second movie when you shifted to get more comfortable, leaning naturally into Dean, and he pulled you to his side, tucking you under his arm, a large smile on his face. It wasn’t the first time you two had been cozy like this, but between Dean’s impressions, Sam’s giggling and eye rolling, it all felt like home. You snuggled deeper into Dean’s side, and knew in that moment it was going to be impossible to leave these two.

That was almost a month ago, and you were getting into a comfortable routine with the boys. They hadn’t returned to hunts, though you encouraged them to, knowing you had plenty of work you should be doing yourself. But Dean shut down the conversation the first time you brought it up, the anger from years of loss and pain that he hadn’t let go of exploding from his body in one loud yell. He had stomped off right after to work on the Impala in the garage, where you found him an hour later.

He had calmed down and was willing to talk through the fact that he didn’t want to leave you alone yet, afraid that you’d leave. You had smiled at him and promised you wouldn’t ever leave like that, but he had wrapped you in his arms carefully, like he wasn’t going to see you again, and you knew he didn’t believe what you were saying.

The conversation was put high up on a shelf after that, and neither you or Sam mentioned it to Dean again. But you knew that that singular conversation wasn’t appeasing Dean’s irrational thoughts of everyone leaving him. You knew he didn’t believe anything was forever.

But the longer you spent at the bunker, and the more you spent time with this Dean that you didn’t quite know as well as his younger version, the further you were falling.

Dean was many things, but the Dean that had been through so much in the time you were apart had emerged caring and passionate. You caught glimpses of the man he was when he made himself a sandwich and one for you and Sam while you were busy marathoning some Netflix true crime documentary, knowing you both wouldn’t eat otherwise. Or when he offered his expertise freely of any hunter that called one of his phones, no questions asked.

The hot-head from days past was replaced with someone who was open to conversing and sharing his feelings. Whereas you saw frustration and lack of patience from the Dean you knew years ago, this one has grown to feel the brunt of his emotions, and was willing to take the burden away from others. You would have been lying to yourself if you said you didn’t have feelings for Dean all along, but the cocky, sure of himself young man had turned into a person who was filled with empathy for others; a selflessness you had never seen in any human. This Dean Winchester loved with all of him, and you felt it every time he looked at you. You were just waiting for him to act on what he wanted.

Could he believe that some things last forever after all?

Dean tags

@akshi8278

“When We Were Young” Taglist (thought you might like this too)

@vicmc624 @woundedxsmile @supernatural3002 @imaginationisgrowth @thoughts-and-funnies

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wolferals · 4 years ago

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🌟LOCKDOWN**🌟

arón piper preference

*sexual content, mentions of sex*

-you had been in lockdown for about 3 months and you became more and more bored being alone at your place

-you tried painting, watching tv and all that but you just felt lonely after all

-after it got a little less strict you hung out with Arón, Miguel and Omar all the time

-at some point Omar suggested you to move in with them because he saw how sad you always looked when you had to go home

-the first week you spent sleeping on the couch in the living room but eventually you and arón got closer over time

-Omar had his boyfriend over quite often as well and they also fought a lot in front of you guys

-so at some point aron and you went to go grocery shopping and then took a walk in the park

-thats when he had first kissed you

-but you both decided not to tell anyone because you were scared of them kicking you out again

-not that you actually think they‘d do that because you were kind of dating arón but if they knew, they‘d be teasing you all the time or be maybe annoyed by you two

-so thats how that went

-you and aron acted like friends around them but secretly you had been sneaking into his room at night to sleep with him instead of the uncomfortable couch

-you‘ve tried your best to keep it a secret even though its hard when aron walks around in his grey sweats all the time

-he sometimes sends you dirty texts when you‘re all sitting on the couch watching a movie

-damn it it was hard not to get wet by his texts

-„i can see how hard your nipples are through your top bebesita.“

-„you look so hot right now.“

-„i wanna fuck you so bad, cant wait for them to leave tomorrow.“

-„im getting hard baby“

-he kept teasing you all the time until one time you snapped when aron told them he was going to bed

-you excused yourself and said you‘d take a shower to catch aron in the hallway

-„come here.“ you had said and pulled him into the bathroom

-you had turned on the water in the shower and then given him a blowjob against the sink

-you know how much he loved you mouth

-and it had surely been hard for him not to moan loudly

-and when no one was watching he gave you quick kisses either on your cheek, forehead or lips

-besides all that, you never dared to have sex at night when omar and miguel were sleeping

-it was too risky

-you only did it when they went grocery shopping or taking a walk with miguels dog who was with his girlfriend mostly

-its crazy how the others havent found out after almost 3 weeks

-one night you snuck back into aróns room where he had already been waiting for you

-„hey.“ he whispered and opened his arms for you to cuddle him

-„omar is still up, i dont know if its such a good thing so sneak around anymore.“ you spoke quietly, slightly concerned

-„i know its shit but yesterday you said yourself that you got no „time“ for a boyfriend. A little controversial dont you think?“ he grinned

-„i mean yeah but cmon, its shit to lie to them.“

-he pulled you closer and then placed his hand on your butt

-that usually was his way to tell you he wanted sex

-but obviously everyone was home

-„aron no, theyre right next door“

-he grinned and spoke:“then i guess you gotta be quiet.“

-before you could complain he hovered over you and pressed your arms against his mattress

-you moaned in complaint but he shushed you and removed your oversized shirt, leaving you only in panties and an almost matching bralette

-„you‘re so damn beautiful do you know that?“ he whispered before placing a wet kiss on your lower stomach

-„aron please dont. They could come in any second.“

-he laughed a little and pulled down your panties

-„thats the point.“

-he started kissing your inner thighs and then left a wet trace up to your stomach

-„you gotta be quiet alright baby?“ he softly rubbed your right thigh before burying his head inbetween your legs

-it was so hard not to moan when his tongue circled around your clit

-meanwhile he was holding both your legs in place that you wouldnt move around

-you ended up biting into a pillow not to let anyone know what he was doing to you in this very moment

-your head kept moving from side to side while aron made it his job to pleasure your clit as much as he possibly could

-suddenly he stopped and came up just to push your bra up to your collarbones and took your left nipple in his mouth

-he started doing the same as he did to your clit

-he circled his tongue around and sucked on your nipple

-occasionally he lightly bit into it making you widen your eyes each times

-he then did the same to your other nipple before bringing his hand to his mouth to wetten it a bit

-eventually he ended up rubbing circles on your clit while licking your nipples and kissing you passionately

-you grabbed the back of his head and dug your nails into his skin

-that was your way of telling him how close you were

-he nodded to show you he understood and he stopped moving his fingers on your clit

-aron then went down on you again and finished his job with his mouth again

-he licked your clit carefully first but then got faster, looking up at you throughout the time he built up to your orgasm

-you placed your hand on his cheek which only encouraged him to go faster

-that eye contact while his tongue was pleasuring you killed you and you came

-he licked you one last time before coming up to you again and kissed you on the lips

-„you actually managed to stay quiet.“ he joked and put his arm around you again while you tried to catch your breath

-you then figured what he just said and replied „it was tough trust me. You‘re fucking good at that“ totally out of breath

-the light peeked through the closed blinds the next morning

-you could hear muffled noises but just figured that aron was up already and had turned on the radio

-so you cuddled up closer to his chest and tried to fall asleep again

-but the noises kept coming closer and closer to your mind and you ended up opening your eyes

-„jesus!“ you spoke while the shock ran through your entire body

-your yelling woke aron and he opened his eyes as well

-omar and miguel were standing in front of your bed, omar had his arms crossed

-miguel was grinning at your half naked bodies tangled together

-aron looked at them for a second before throwing his head back and whispering the word „joder“

-„soo, you guys owe us an explanation.“

#preference #aronpiper #omander #aronxreader #ander #cute #elite #preferences #smut

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 5 years ago

Text

Sick Little Games: Seven

B.C.

“Y/N I swear. If you ever do anything that blatantly stupid ever again,” Steve threatened as you sipped a cup of water.

“Yes, dad,” you sigh rolling your eyes.

Steve glared at you as Natasha muttered angry Russian expletives and you smile a little, “Look, I knew that it was incredibly unlikely I was going to die. It was just going to hurt. A lot. Still hurts actually.”

Natasha scowled as she tucked the blankets around you, “It was still stupid.”

“Oh,” you snort, wincing, “There’s no doubt about that. But It was effective and I had to act fast... That hell-hound had only been topside about 12 hours. And I almost couldn’t stop it... If I’d waited we would have been fucked. And it takes centuries for demons to marshal enough energy to build one up here... So. I’ll take the win.”

Thor was quiet, arms folded where he leaned on the wall. He was glad you were safe. That you were going to make a full recovery. But the image of you in a pool of black blood, bloodied and twitching still made his chest ache. “How did you know I wouldn’t kill you?” he asked softly.

“Your less well-documented powers don’t exist in a vacuum, Thor,” you answer, “Terrified Christian monks who wrote down stories had to hear them from somewhere... I needed consecrated ground. Quickly. And to do that I needed to be able to conduct the energy and... I needed to be holding on to direct it where I needed it to go.” Thor moved closer to the bed and pats your cheek, “We thought we lost you for a second, witchling.”

“Nah,” you say, giving him a brave smile. It still felt like you might be dying. It certainly hurt that much. “I’m like a bad habit.”

“Thor isn’t Christian,” Steve said abruptly.

You shrug, “The Christians don’t hold a monopoly on Holy... The definition is fairly flexible. Thor still has followers, thus where he works a miracle... and this fucking counts because I didn’t know if this was gonna work, there is holy ground.”

Steve frowned but nodded, taking a second to kiss the side of your head, “Still. If you ever do something that stupid ever again I’m gonna make Bucky do your training rounds with you.”

Thor chanced to glance at you and your face betrayed nothing. Only the same mild amusement it had a moment ago. And as for year heartbeat... well. It was still irregular and too fast. Your body on high alert after your Jolt. But a muscle in your throat pulsed just slightly. Just enough to tell him your prey instincts had kicked in, and if you could have done it, you’d be ready to bolt.

The Three of them left shortly after to give you some time to rest and Clint slipped in quietly.

“Hey, Cupcake,” he said, breathing a sigh of relief. Now that your eyes were open and you were sitting up he felt like it was okay. Before “okay” was a horribly abstract concept.

“Hey, Hawk,” you say, smiling a little. “You okay?” Clint takes a second to look at you. Big luminous eyes and tangled chaotic hair. You look frail and pale... Nat had told him like a sick Victorian Child who wouldn’t make it to Spring. But fuck if you aren’t the prettiest thing he had ever seen.

“Now that I’m seeing you alive?” he said giving you a crooked smile and tucking himself sitting next to you, “I’m great. This might be the best day of my life... I thought you were a goner, babe.”

You rest your head on his shoulder, “There’ll be better days, Clint,” you tell him fondly.

“Yeah,” he said, “The day they let you out of medical and you meet my dog.”

“YOU GOT A DOG?” you yelp, “Gimme, lemme see the puppy.” You make a sort of vague grabby hands gesture.

“He’s not a puppy. He’s a grumpy mutt I pulled out of an Alley... who then proceeded to steal my pizza and get shot.” he said, “And they told me he can’t be in here.”

“But witches need to commune with nature,” you pout, “And that,” you say pointing at the sad little potted plant in your window sill, “Is NOT nature. It’s plastic!”

Clint chuckles and rests his cheek on your head, “If I get in trouble I’m blaming you.”

“Don’t you usually?” you ask.

“Touche,” Clint conceded getting off the bed. He knew from the jump he couldn’t tell you no. He’d already told Lucky all about you. And as he padded his way into the room and made his way up to the bed, Clint had no regrets.

Lucky wiggled his way into your arms and accepted all the kisses and cuddles and effusive compliments about what a pretty boy he was. And Clint watched, smiling a little. You glowed. Warmth and light. Compassion. You took in everyone’s flaws and loved them anyway. The way you didn’t think you deserved. And Clint knew. He knew. That he’d never be able to tell you “no” ever again. He also, when he had to half drag Lucky off your bed, was vaguely aware that his dog probably loved you more than him. And Clint had to admit that that was fair. You were definitely nicer to look at.

____________________

A.C.

“Where’s Lucky,” you ask in the quiet on your porch.

“With Nat,” Clint answers smiling a little, “Plane rides freak him out.”

Clint watched the sun sink lower, burning up the atmosphere and turning the sky a flamingo pink. Stars were starting to sparkle on the horizon and the air was getting cooler. Crickets were singing and birds were calling out. It felt nice. Rocking you on the porch swing in the quiet.

“So,” he asked teasing, “If you don’t have T.V. what do you do out here?”

“This,” you answer, gesturing vaguely. “There’s a pond out back for swimming and my closest neighbor is four miles away... I just. I mean I’m not a total animal. I do have Wifi. But sometimes I just... I can’t take being trapped in anymore.”

Clint makes a soft sound and pulls you closer, “So you wanted freedom.”

“And some time. Time to figure out my next move.”

“Are you coming back?” he asked, his voice so soft that you can hardly hear him.

“I don’t- I’m not- I shouldn’t.” you settle on finally, “We just got the team back in working order... and this. This is the only family I have. I really don’t want to be the one responsible for tearing it apart.”

Clint stops and looks down at you, tilting your chin up carefully, “Babe,” he murmurs, “You did nothing wrong. Not one thing. Barnes did all of this. You were quietly nursing a harmless little crush. And he exploited it. Exploited you.” When you look away, uncertain he sighs, “Look. If it were Nat what would you tell her?”

“Nat would have already killed him,” you point out.

Clint makes a soft exasperated sound, “Fine. Any other woman. Would this be their fault?”

“No but-” you trail off and Clint stops, stroking his thumb against your jaw.

“But what?” he presses.

“They aren’t me,” you say exhaling slowly.

“What does that mean, baby girl,” he asks.

“I mean I could have influenced him. I could have cast a charm unintentionally and he could have reacted poorly and-”

Clint tries. He wants to hear how you’ve twisted this around in your head to make it all your fault. He wants to know so he can tear it apart. But he can’t. He can’t listen to you justify that level of manipulation. So he kisses you. It’s a soft kiss. The gentlest way he knows to stop you talking. To distract whatever anxious death spiral you’re about to go down to tell yourself that you did this and you deserve it all.

It’s over before it really starts and Clint is pulling away about to apologize when you sit there blinking at him in shock. “Stop,” he says instead of apologizing. “I know you. You never do anything like that unintentionally. Hell. You never do anything unintentionally. You agonize about people’s feelings for hours before you send a risky text sometimes... Even if you did cast some spell on him, baby it’s the same one you cast on everyone. Just by being you. And being you doesn’t mean that that grumpy fuck gets to abuse you.”

When you start to cry, Clint pulls you into his lap wordlessly and just rocks you. “No one,” he murmurs, “deserves what people have done to you, babe. Not one person.” He doesn’t try to stop it. He just lets you sob, even though every racked stuttering breath makes his chest hurt. He’s seen you a mess before, but not like this. Not this shattered and jagged. This tortured.

And for once, he doesn’t think a stupid joke and a cupcake is going to make it better. For once, he’s going to have to ride out the storm.

____________

B.C.

Girls' night in the compound meant a lot of things. Mostly, it meant that Tony was working Pepper’s last nerve and had enlisted every last woman she could find to throw a night out on his dime because he’d irritated her.

But it also meant, of course, that the men in the compound had unexpected free time. Which was both a blessing and a curse as they all sat in the commons trying to decide what movies to watch and what pizza toppings to order.

They were mid-argument when you came downstairs kitted out for the night. Complete with a corset, black leather skirt, fishnets, and combat boots. You look feral and sexy. Sleek. All smoke and sultry. And that skirt is riding temptingly high on your thigh. For just a half a second, Bucky can’t not stare.

Until he realizes who you are.

“You look-” Steve stops. Not sure what to say, looking flustered. You never show that amount of skin if you can help it.

“Otherworldly and vaguely threatening?” Bruce supplies, as Thor nods in agreement.

Sam whistles, “Damn,” he says, “Girl where’d you hide that outfit?”

Clint, standing next to Thor makes a sound that reminds the god irresistibly of a mouse being stepped on. The god is pretty sure the Archer stopped breathing when you stepped off the elevator.

“Nice “Come fuck me boots,” Tony observed drily.

“They were on sale,” you say, tossing a wild mane of curls over your shoulder.

When you drift out, Clint falls forward, face planting into the sofa, “Please. Please tell me that was real.”

“Oh yeah,” Sam chuckled, “That was real.”

“Fuck me.” he groaned, “That’s just rude.”

“Or not,” Bucky muttered, picking up his phone.

___________

When you hadn’t so much as looked at him, Bucky was irritated. Who the fuck were you to not pay attention to him. Well. He had a way to fix you. He had a way to remind you that he could destroy you. And he wanted to.

How dare you act like he didn’t matter to you when he knew it wasn’t true. He knew it wasn’t from the quiet way you still just... did things. The way he could hear your heart race in a quiet room. The way your eyes light up when he was even passingly civil. The innocence rankled. The sweetness. The fact that you got to stay the same while he was beaten into submission.

It didn’t take long. Not for the next phase of his plan to take place. Models were in easy supply. Everyone wanted to fuck a hero. And when he started looking, women crawled out of the woodwork. Perfect. The perfect thing to trot out.

The first one had almost been accidental but after that... well after that, it was fun. The shock. The blushing. The scampering up the hall. The next morning knowing you’d skip breakfast to get your work out in. It felt right, ripping those pieces of innocence out from under you. Forcing you to stop in your tracks and deal with this reality instead of sprinkling glitter on it.

He loved every minute of snatching that out of your hands. But, he reflected, it felt like it was time for something... new. Of course, he came to this conclusion when you walked in on him fucking some blonde off of Tinder in the motor pool when you were going to get your jeep and you’d not looked nearly... startled, enough. He needed more, he decided. He just needed to figure out how to get it.

Tags: @lancsnerd, @thorfanficwriter @blameitonthecauseway @etherealwaifgoddess, @stevieang, @beautybyfire, @sunmoonandbucky @mrsfox79, @bbmommy0902, @mendes-fan, @iheartsebastianstan, @wtfcas @pinknerdpanda, @process-pending, @ladifreakingda, @leasly, @coldbookworm, @hv-chw3, @past-perfect-future-tense, @starkrobb @beardburnsupersoldiers, @petlaufeyson, @queenoftheunderdark, @potatoheadthewise, @thehyperactiveteen, @thefridgeismybestie, @boyett514, @an-awkward-human-1, @sunshine-and-riverwater

#Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes X reader #Clint Barton #Clint Barton x reader #fluff #Lucky #Thor #natasha romanoff #Steve Rogers #Sam Wilson #Tony Stark #manipulation #voyerurism #asshole!Bucky

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lovelyirony · 5 years ago

Note

“But I remember you the way that we rehearsed” for winter13, please?

Fake dating. Bucky didn’t like that it had come to this. He glared at his agent, Natasha, who pays him no attention.

“And this is necessary exactly why?”

“Because you scare people,” Natasha says. “And it proves on some level that you have a heart somewhere in there.”

Bucky snorts. “Let them think I don’t have one. It’s how I get all my roles, right?”

He had had previous experience in the military. With squared shoulders, a deadset gaze, and good-enough looks to be noticed by a talent scout? He’d been shipped off to Hollywood and gotten typecast as a handsome military man in every single movie. He didn’t mind it. As long as it paid the bills, he’d do it.

Natasha didn’t like this. Apparently he had to be a “real person” and “interact with people.”

He did not like that. Why interact with people? He talked with Steve. He made fun of Sam. This was enough!

“At some point, people grow bored of the whole ‘I’m tough and distant, watch me gaze stoically’“ Natasha tells him. “And I know it goes quickly. With a dating life, it proves there’s more to you.”

“There’s really, really not.”

“Then it will boost Carter’s career,” Natasha says. “You don’t want to kick a fellow star down, do you?”

“I don’t particularly care.”

Sharon is dragging her heels in the dirt.

“Maria, what the hell? What’s all this about me dating Barnes?”

“It’ll be good for his image.”

"What, to prove he can date someone?”

“On the nose,” Maria says. “He needs someone that shows a...softer side of him.”

“Does he have a softer side?”

“You can make one.”

“And if I don’t?”

"Then you have a lower chance of breaking out.”

“Still a chance.”

“Do it and I’ll make sure that you get a wine cellar,” Maria says.

“...fine.”

They both look at each other carefully.

“I’m Bucky.”

“Sharon. Good to meet you.”

She sticks out a hand for a shake. It’s firm, to the point, and they’re both thinking this might not be the worst.

“So, how do you want to spin this?” Natasha asks Maria.

“They meet at a red carpet event,” Maria says. “Bucky asks after her, she gives him her number. They meet up for coffee. Become a thing. Short and sweet, exactly how it should be.”

They nod.

Sharon stares.

“So we don’t get input?”

“What would your idea have been?” Natasha asks.

“I meet her at the shooting range,” Bucky mutters.

“That’s literally the worst idea I’ve ever heard,” Maria says flatly. “Nope. Red carpet. We’ll coordinate outfits a bit, leave the public saying ‘aw’ that it was ‘destined in the stars’ or whatever bullshit they’re going to put in the magazine. Any questions, concerns?”

“Can I pick the coffee shop?” Sharon asks.

“Yes.”

The red carpet event. One of Sam’s newest spy flicks, and Bucky can’t lie and say he isn’t excited. Sam makes a good spy with smooth looks, an easy smile, and a way with a suit and acting like he’s acting for espionage.

It also helps that he can make fun of him while they’re at the theater.

Sharon looks nice in a simple blue dress. He’s wearing a blue tie.

Coordinating. By chance. He almost laughs at the absurdity of it all.

She saunters over to him.

“Bucky Barnes, right?” she asks.

“You, uh, got it,” Bucky says.

“I’m Sharon. I liked your last movie. You pulled an impressive move with the motorcycle. Was that a stunt double?”

“Nah, although I did have a nice guy for the building leap,” Bucky answers. “You were in the last murder movie, right?”

“The detective, yeah,” Sharon says. “How’d you meet Sam?”

Conversation goes smoothly. Sharon fills in where Bucky breaks off. She doesn’t say anything about his short, blunt answers that so many others flounder over. She doesn’t even pause for any pity when he mentions the prosthetic.

“Is it a Stark model or something else?”

“Um. Stark.”

“Good choice,” Sharon says. “I was reading about the success rates.”

“What, because you knew I have one?” Bucky asks.

“No, my cousin’s Tony,” Sharon says. She puts on a teasing smile. “Not everything is about you, Mr. Barnes.”

“I wouldn’t presume, Ms. Carter,” he answers, a smile playing at his lips. “Mind if I escort you to your seat?”

Take notice. Pictures. He knows it’ll be on one of those late night “News” stations. (News. What a fucking joke.)

He gets her number at the end of the night. She slips him a notecard.

“Special occasion and all,” Sharon says. “I’ll send you the address for the coffee shop once you text back.”

That night he stays awake a bit longer. He tells himself it’s just because of the fancy, late event.

It is not because he thinks Sharon may just be one of the most interesting people he’s ever met, and not just because she’s his type.

Besides, coffee is nice. He can drink it and not answer anything while he’s sipping on it.

He’s early. By half an hour. She is five minutes late, orders some fancy concoction, and sits down. She looks very nice, put-together. Bucky can already see everyone staring and taking pictures.

“So, how was your night?” Bucky asks.

"Not anything happening besides sleep after the premiere, you?” she asks, stirring the foam around.

“Not really. Ate a hot pocket.”

He cringes.

He really made the choice to say that, didn’t he? Ugh.

To his surprise, Sharon laughs to herself.

“Glad I’m not the only one who still eats garbage food. The amount of people who say they eat a smoothie bowl...”

They launch into conversation about stupid foods that celebrities eat, and how much they both would kill for a grease-stained-paper burger that honestly tastes like your aorta is gonna fail. That’s how unhealthy it is.

Sharon finds out that he likes rock climbing, and she offers to host the next outing at the club she goes to.

They get photographed exiting. She admires the beat-up car that he refuses to get rid of.

“Still runs, don’t see why I would get rid of it,” Bucky mutters.

“Can I just say, for one, that I don’t know why anyone in Hollywood would deny having a car that’s fifteen years old and has a ‘My Son is an Eagle Scout!’ sticker on the back,” she says. “Oh my god, did you get this from your mom!”

Bucky laughs.

Dating is easy.

Feelings are hard.

Because Sharon can go on dates. They go on walks and answers questions and grin for pictures, and that’s all good. She can do that.

What she can’t do is at least attempt to stop trying to feel the way his fingers press into her waist, the way she smiles at him. She knows how she’s smiling at him.

She needs to stop sitting with him at an old diner at sunset, cheeks red with laughter and long-faded sun, and they bicker over who has the best shake.

She needs to stop taking his jackets and shirts and wearing them out and feeling a sense of pride that other people know that she knows him more than anyone else. The way that he only smiles at her.

They’ll have to talk to the Oscars board to get him nominated for Best Actor. Hell, maybe she can even convince them to have him win. He’s convincing like that.

Bucky hates that he has feelings as well as memories. Had lobotomies not been highly risky and (mostly) illegal, he probably would have signed up for one right about now.

Dating is...nice. He likes Sharon. He hopes that she likes him, at least. Tolerates maybe.

Natasha says their break-up is scheduled for a month from now. Mutual parting, careers in the way. Whatever excuse is cooked up, he’s sure it’ll make sense. Sharon probably has a life to get back to, and Bucky...he’s sure he’ll think of something to say in the interview when they invariably ask him about it.

It’s Sharon who comes to his house at ten-thirty at night in old cut-offs, a t-shirt that’s paint-splattered from when she helped him paint his kitchen table chairs one boring afternoon, and her eyes are rimmed with red.

“Feel free to tell me I’m stupid, but I don’t wanna break up,” Sharon says. “We have a good time, I think you’re probably the only actor in this whole scene that I’d ever date, and you’re the best guy I’ve ever met.”

Bucky blinks.

“Are you...me? The best guy you’ve ever met?”

Sharon giggles a bit.

“Yeah, you.”

“Sharon as long as you’ll have me, I’m yours,” Bucky confesses. “Can’t promise I’m the most interesting guy alive.”

“Says the guy who drives a beat-up town car with stickers on the back,” Sharon says with a snort. She pulls him into a hug. “But yes. I want you, Bucky. I really, really do.”

They inform Natasha and Maria, who already saw this coming from the moment they met.

“Another match in the books,” Maria says, pouring a glass of wine for herself. “Who’s next on your list?”

Natasha thinks, sliding her sunglasses down. “Well, I think Sif and Jane would do quite nicely together, don’t you think?”

“It’s gonna need more planning than Bucky and Sharon,” Maria says. “You sure you’re up for that?”

Natasha grins.

“When have I not been, dear?”

#winter13 #acting au #sharon carter #winter soldier #bucky barnes #agent thirteen #maria hill #natasha romanoff #lovelyirony writes

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writethehousedown · 4 years ago

Text

And The Livin's Easy, Chapter Five (Multi) - Zyan

a/n: hello! we’re reaching the end, and as usual with me, the shit hits the fan with this chapter. i hope you enjoy! thanks to frey for aggressively cheerleading me and beta-ing this. sidebog is @chachkisalpaca !

The days go by in the blink of an eye.

Crystal texts Gigi every day, runs into her at the beaches more times that she could count, and her lips become sore from all the kissing and biting. She likes Gigi. She’s fun, laid back, and doesn’t tell Crystal her major in arts is useless, as she has no clue what she’s going to do with her fashion degree either.

Gigi tells her about her friends, how they tease her when she comes back home and how they’re dying to properly meet her. Maybe tomorrow, she always says. And Crystal tells her about her surfer friends —mostly Vanjie and April— but leaves Jaida out, because she’s a long story that she rather not unpack. Not with Gigi, at least.

Before they notice, it’s the night before the competition, and Monét and Monique organize a get together again — more chill, though. They decide to eat out at Sal’s Shack with the same people as previously, and for a moment it sounds like a good idea to Crystal.

Until she remembers the Brooke Lynn situation, and that Jaida will also be there. She prays to every God and every saint for the night to go smoothly, without any incidents.

Crystal puts on an orange dress that Vanessa deems hideous, but she likes it nonetheless. She likes to think she’s able to pull it off.

They have to join two tables and steal a few chairs to be able to fit in, but it’s still early and the place isn’t that crowded, so it doesn’t matter. Crystal sits next to Vanessa and April, and they quickly engage in a conversation in Spanish, mostly for April’s sake.

Brooke and Yvie are running late, because of course they are — they’ve never been early or on time for anything.

April makes a joke about this, with Plastique, who’s sitting in front of April, piping up and saying she sent her a text ten minutes ago that they were on their way. Crystal sighs under her breath when she sees Vanjie roll her eyes.

“I know, right?” Is all that she says, before going back to their previous topic. Crystal is surprised, but proud. It was about time.

Speaking of, Jaida is sitting in the row in front of her, talking with Monét and Monique, laughing and talking loudly to get a word in. Crystal feels the nostalgia hit her at moments, but then one of the girls tease her about Gigi and it goes away.

Though she’d known Gigi for a short time and were moving rather fast, Crystal didn’t mind. Gigi was the embodiment of a summer fling; fast, euphoric, ready to kiss her at any moment, and with endless smiles to give her. Part of Crystal hated that they lived in complete different sides of the country — she would’ve liked to take Gigi on a proper date.

Maybe next summer.

“Look who’s decided to appear,” Monique calls out when Brooke and Yvie approach their table.

Crystal glances at Vanessa out of the corner of her eye, but she doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by her.

“Don’t look at me. This one finally decided to make a move on the lifeguard right before we were supposed to leave,” Brooke says with an annoyed tone, pointing at Yvie with a cheeky grin.

The table soon erupts into a fit of giggles and exclamations, but Yvie doesn’t look the least bit bothered. If anything, she has a wide grin on her face as she sits next to Brooke.

“Hey! At least Scarlet gave me her number, and she’s coming to see me beat y’all’s asses tomorrow,” Yvie defends herself with a smile that’s giddy and cocky at the same time.

“You mean she’s coming to see your ass getting beat by me,” Plastique pipes up, sticking her tongue out to Yvie, who gasps in mock offense.

“Plastique, sit your ass down, you’re still a fetus, there’s no way you’re getting that first place above me,” Monét cuts in, causing a loud laugh from all the girls by the table, except Plastique, of course.

It doesn’t go unnoticed —for Crystal, at least— how Brooke bends over on the table to tell her something in a whisper that gets lost in the noise, and Plastique smiles, biting her lower lip.

If Vanessa noticed it, she doesn’t even flinch; instead, she joins the jokes and tells Monét she better kiss that prize goodbye, because she didn’t get endless sunburns throughout the summer to lose against her.

The table soon is a mess, with a hundred conversations going on at the same time and jokes being aimed at each other relentlessly. Crystal likes it. This is the sisterhood she knows and loves.

“I don’t know about y’all, but I have a lady to treat to dinner, and that’s enough reason to step up my game and get to that podium,” Crystal declares, slamming her hand on the table and causing many skeptical eyebrows to quirk her way.

“What kind of crazy bitch did you find to put up with your annoying ass during this summer?” Monique inquires in a playful tone. Jaida looks at her with a calm demeanour, but Crystal barely notices her. She grins at the opportunity of babbling about Gigi.

“Her name’s Gigi. I met her at this place last week, we’ve been going out after practices. And she’s cute. Ain’t she, Vanj?” Crystal says with a smile, and Vanessa rolls her eyes with a tiny smirk.

“It’s all this hoe talks about. I swear her cheesy ass makes me wanna vomit sometimes.”

“Hey! You talk about Kameron all day long and I say nothing.” She folds her arms with a childish pout, and it’s the first time in the night she sees Vanessa panic. Crystal is confused for a moment, until she realizes what she’s done.

Fuck, she wasn’t supposed to talk about Kameron in front of Brooke.

There’s silence for what feels like an eternity, until Brooke clears her throat to speak.

“You’re going out with Kameron?” She asks, her polite tone and piercing stare glued to Vanessa make Crystal’s stomach drop.

Vanessa inhales a sharp breath and finally pulls herself to meet Brooke’s eyes for the first time in a year. She’s flooded with memories of the good times, but the Brooke in her memories isn’t the one sitting across her — this Brooke doesn’t look at her with love in her eyes and a smile painted on her lips. This Brooke looks at her as if she’s trying her best not to pitch a screaming fight.

“Yeah, for about six months now,” Vanessa finally says, and Brooke cocks a sly brow.

“No wonder two months ago my dear cousin asked me if I was going to participate in the competition,” Brooke comments, her tone sharp and angry. Vanessa wants a hole to open up in the ground and swallow her whole. “Would y’all excuse me? I need a cigarette.” She pushes the chair back and gets up to leave, grabbing her pack of cigarettes and a lighter from her purse. Yvie follows her after a while and Plastique stays glued to her chair.

Vanessa rubs her temples, feeling as if she’s in a bubble of white noise, making her ears hurt, and a feeling she thought was a part of her past settles in her chest.

Crystal feels extra guilty. It’s her fault, after all; she should’ve just let Vanessa mock her, or maybe say something about her current girlfriend without mentioning her name. But no. She had fucked everything up, even when things were going smoothly.

There are two things she’s sure of; she should start thinking before speaking, and tomorrow is going to be a hell of a bloodbath.

In the middle of the awkwardness last night, Jaida couldn’t get to say she also wants to win to impress a girl.

She’s been talking to Jan sporadically — after that encounter in the bathroom, they exchanged Instagram handles and would reply to each other’s stories from time to time. Sometimes Jaida sends risky replies and Jan —seeming to be the shy type— replies with a plethora of purple emojis and trying her best to let her know they’re on the same page.

She’s so adorable. Jaida wonders if she has enough time to ask her out while they’re still in the city.

Jaida has posted about the competition on her Instagram Stories, and Jan replied wishing her good luck. When she asked her if she was coming, Jan just said it was a possibility, with two winking emojis.

She hopes to see her there, but it’s not as if she’ll lose sleep if she doesn’t come — in the grand scheme of things, Jaida is far more worried about the competition itself.

The beach is crowded, like it always is, but this time around there’s more people with surfboards walking around, taking photos and warming up. She tries to find a familiar face among the crowd, but someone finds her instead.

“Jaida! Hi!” She turns around to see Jan standing there in a purple bikini, her blonde hair tied in a high ponytail, and her face is red, but Jaida can’t tell if it’s from the blush or the sunburn she got a few days ago, trying to get a tan — she knows this because Jan likes to overshare in her Instagram Stories.

“Jan, you came,” she says with a grin. Jan nods enthusiastically, motioning behind her.

“My friend, uh, she dragged us here to see the girl she’s going out with. But I wanted to come anyway, to see you, I mean,” she stammers a little, and it only makes Jaida’s grin widen.

“Tell your friend I’m sorry, ‘cause I’m about to beat her girl.” Jaida winks at her, and Jan giggles, flustered. Jesus, she’s too easy to get her flustered. Jaida always thought California girls were bolder; Katy Perry had lied to her, apparently. Not that she’s complaining, though.

They chat for a bit before Jaida has to go warm up, and Jan promises her she’ll be cheering for her. She follows her with her gaze and frowns a little when she sees she’s heading towards Crystal, who at the same time is talking with a brunette. Jan tugs at the arm of the brunette, and she gives Crystal a quick kiss before following Jan, leaving her lipstick behind on Crystal’s lips.

It takes Jaida about a second to put two and two together; she and Crystal are chasing after two girls of the same group.

How utterly cliché. Is the island that small?

Jaida pulls her hair in a tight bun before starting her warm up, stealing one last glance of Crystal, who’s trying to wipe away the lipstick off her lips and talking to a very gloomy Vanessa.

Almost on autopilot, she searches for Brooke and finds her warming up next to Yvie, with Plastique nowhere to be found.

Jaida just hopes they’ll be able to pull themselves together before the competition starts; she knows she could have a clear advantage if they aren’t focused, but she wants to compete with the best of the best — and beat them, clearly, so that means she’s the best.

Jaida takes one last deep breath once they’re allowed to go into the water, her muscles clenching with the cold water splashing her, but her heart races so fast she thinks it’ll come out of her chest at some point.

Somehow, she’s sure she hears Jan scream her name as she drifts away from the shore.

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fight-for-humanity · 4 years ago

Text

Hunger

[cw: violence, swearing]

A dim glow of the street lamps illuminated the quiet town of Redacre. From this sight alone, one might make the assumption that it was a normal, peaceful town, where families gathered around the dinner table each evening to have a meal together and spend time in each other’s company, or where kids would go to school to meet up with their friends to laugh, joke, and talk about the most recent gossip or who they were going to junior prom with. But, I knew better. We all did. Dinner tables were often empty. Families were too tired to spend time together, either because they never slept or they dug down in the labyrinth hidden underneath the town all night. Innocent teen gossip was replaced by the somber air surrounding the discussion of who went missing the previous night.

And then there were kids like me, sorry bastards who were fortunate enough to hear Voices in our heads and wake up in the middle of the night in odd places where we didn’t initially close our eyes. I was a member of the esteemed Blackout Club who sought to disrupt the nightly operations of one of these mystifying Voices, often at the expense of a good night’s rest. Fortunately for me, it was the last objective of the night. Upon its completion, I would be able to head back to the boxcar for a quick nap before sneaking back home. Some nights, I had a group to keep me company, but not this night. Schedules clash and accidents happen, especially with the risky work we’re doing. I zipped up my black hoodie to stave off the cold Virginia air. I wanted to get this mission done as soon as possible.

Bzzzzzz.

I froze suddenly, then grimaced. Damn phone. I wish I could just turn it off during missions, but HQ insists we leave our phones on so they can track our progress and send us updates while we’re “out in the field”. Admittedly, it provides some insurance, in the odd case we get suppressed and need to be saved in the morning. Still, I can’t help but jump out of my shoes everytime it buzzes in my pocket. With a sigh, I retrieved the damn thing and looked at the message.

Your Stalker: “Behind you.”

A gasp escaped my lips. My blood ran cold at the sight of the text message. Reflexively, I twisted my head around to see a familiar face, one I hoped I wouldn’t see again. Aaron Costa, leaning against a tree and looking directly at me. A black bandana covered the lower half of his face, and he wore a signature white and red jacket. The last time I saw him, he tried to drag me to the red door, force me to live in an eternal slumber, listening to the same old song forever. He tried to make me a walking puppet for the Voice that was deemed worse than the others.

“Please. Don’t freak out,” he hushed before I could say anything, his hands raised half way in an attempt to appear unthreatening. It was a decent attempt, but at his height, he mostly towered over me. He’d be a threat to the average person. Still, for as much of a threat that he was, my eyes couldn’t help but wander to the scar down the side of his face. It was the battle wound I gave him when I managed to get away from him on that fateful night.

I took a step back. “What the hell do you want?” I hissed, teeth bared. I glanced left and right to look for possible escape routes. I might be able to outrun him. I knew for damn sure I could out maneuver him. The Club’s training made sure we could escape an enemy bigger than ourselves.

“I need your help, RK,” Aaron pleaded, pulling down his bandana and taking a step forward. In response, I took a couple steps back. If he gets within arm’s reach of me again, it’s game over. I’ll be at the red door before I know it, and I have no spare drone part to save me this time. He froze, noticing that I was putting space between us. “I’m…” he stammered. It was odd to see him flustered. He always had this air of calm around him, but I guess that’s just who I thought he was. It was just a ruse to get close to me, so he could convert me to his weird religion.

“I’m sorry about what I did. What I said about your brother was insensitive,” he continued. “I was just…” he paused, searching for words. “I didn’t expect you to respond like that. I thought I could show you how that club lies about us, how destructive they are, how much better it would be with us. I failed, so I felt like... it was the only way to keep you as my friend. It was desperate and stupid.” There was a certain honesty behind those brown eyes, imploring me to listen. I was such a sucker for sob stories, but the voice of reason in my head was too strong. I knew we could never be friends like we once were.

“Well, what the hell did you expect to happen?” I growled, tightly crossing my arms in front of my chest. “You chose your Voice over me, a person! A human being!” Aaron didn’t respond, his gaze sinking to the ground. Did he want to argue about it, but was holding his tongue? I wasn't sure. In a different town, with no Voices, we would have been friends. I couldn’t help but wonder how my other relationships would be different if the looming threat of Voices didn’t hang over everyone.

Here, in Redacre, I wasn’t afforded that opportunity. I always had to remember the grasp the Voices had on everyone, how much people tried to fill in missing puzzle pieces with them, to dull the emptiness and pain that was so common to the human condition. I had to remember what people were willing to do for the Voices. I could never forget. My honest friendship could never compete with a millennia of manipulation techniques. I’m not good enough. I would be thrown to the wolves easily, just like before.

After a moment of silence between us, my curiosity got the best of me. With a sigh, I asked, “What do you need help with? I’m not doing any stupid Chorus things.”

The tension in Aaron’s shoulders relaxed as he let out a breath. “No. It’s nothing like that,” he explained. “We are...being hunted. By the Beast."

"The Beast?" I asked.

"The Hunter," he clarified. "Some of us have gone missing, and I know you have been making notes."

I arched a brow. "How do you know that?"

"Kids talk at school," he answered. "Please, RK. I don't want more people getting hurt. I just need more information so I can help protect them."

"You mean protect more Stalkers like you?" I gave him a skeptical look and planted my hands on my hips.

"No matter what you call them, they are still people," he responded with a frown.

I paused. Dammit, Aaron. He was right, in his own twisted sense. The thought of more people forced under the Hunter's sway hit a particularly sensitive nerve.

With a soft sigh, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a flipbook. With reluctance in my tone, I held it out to him and said, “Here. These are the more recent field notes.”

Aaron reached out and took it, his eyes scanning the little pages as he flipped through them. “The Hunter is experimenting on people?” he asked.

“With these weird tablets, yeah,” I answered with a nod.

“And these curses…” He murmured, his face scrunching in confusion. He flipped the notebook around and pointed at a poorly drawn doodle of a person with sharp, gnashing teeth. “What does this mean?”

I couldn’t help but snerk at my own artistic talent. “That’s, uh, one of the curses.” That answer didn’t seem to work for Aaron. He still looked helplessly confused, and a little concerned. “It’s called the Hunter’s Hunger. It gives you, like… these cravings, where you just want to, like, bite someone. It’s like mental torture if you try to resist it.”

He frowned and flipped to a new page, taking a moment to study before looking back to me. “Can I keep some of these pages?”

“Yeah, whatever. The curses and stuff are the last four pages,” I said grudgingly. Aaron gave me a grateful smile as he ripped the pages out and handed the flipbook back to me. “Do you really not know anything about what’s going on with the Hunter? Are your people not told anything?”

Aaron’s lips pursed. “Anything we’re not told is to protect us and keep us safe. I trust them.” I let out a sigh at his response. Clearly, they weren’t being kept safe if Stalkers were disappearing, but he had such blind devotion that he’d be willing to sweep anything under the rug. Is that how they all are? Every kid who has an attachment to a Voice? Voices become so infallible that they can do nothing wrong?

“Hello? Someone there?”

Aaron and I both froze as a foreign baritone broke the silence of the night’s gentle ambience. The voice didn’t sound familiar, and judging by Aaron’s reaction, it wasn’t a Lucid or anyone he knew either. It definitely didn’t have that Lucid masked-sound to its tone.

“Come on. I knew I heard ya. Come out, come out,” the voice cooed.

“Who is-” I began to whisper, but Aaron halted me with a soft shush, his finger pressed against his lips. He turned around and slowly stepped towards the nearby house, pressing his back against the wall. I followed him as he peeked around the corner in order to take a look at the strange fellow for myself, but Aaron stuck out his arm to block me before I could go further. He turned his head and gave me a look of concern. I shot him a nasty look. Aaron really needs to do something about his annoying “save everyone” superhero attitude. With an annoyed sigh, I grabbed his wrist and pushed it down and out of my way. He didn’t try to hold me back again, but from the corner of my eye, I could see his shoulders sulk.

A man that appeared to be in his early twenties walked down the street, looking under cars and behind corners for us. He wore torn up jeans and a loose black t-shirt. I looked a little closer and it looked like a rock band shirt with a colorful, abstract logo, but it wasn’t any band that I knew of. His shoulder-length dirty blond hair was pushed behind both of his ears.

“Greyson Burke,” Aaron whispered, his brows arched in surprise.

“You know him?” I looked up at him with a curious look.

“He was a senior at Central High when I was a freshman,” Aaron answered, his eyes still trained on Greyson. “After graduation, his band started playing at one of the local bars, but they stopped a few months ago. I thought their band split up, or something.”

Greyson was getting closer. I could see a wicked grin stretched across his face, his crazed green eyes still searching for the source of the voices he heard. A few more moments, and he would be upon us.

Aaron turned his body to me. “I’ll distract him. You go home, RK,” he told me. Sounds like a plan. Didn’t have to tell me twice. I was sure Aaron would be fine. He can handle himself. I gave him a nod as he stepped out of our hiding place out onto the street towards Greyson. I turned the other way and started sneaking back to the privacy fence, but I stopped. Curiosity got the better of me. I retracted my steps and peaked around the corner to watch the exchange.

“There you are. I knew I heard someone,” Greyson said with a sick grin. There was something off about his body language. The way he curled his fingers and dug his nails into the side of his pants. The way he would occasionally gnaw at his lower lip, and how he breathed through a partly open mouth. He wasn’t well. There was something wrong with him. He looked… hungry.

“What are you doing here, Greyson?” Aaron answered, his voice tense.

Greyson gave a nonchalant shrug, his tongue darting out of his mouth to wetten his lips. “I was just in the neighborhood. Thought I’d take a stroll, and look for a dance partner, y’know?” He took a step forward, approaching Aaron. “Is that… Is that you, Aaron? Aaron Costa?” He craned his neck forward, squinting his eyes to get a better look. “Damn, boy. You’ve gotten tall!” He threw his head back and laughed, hand holding his stomach. Recomposing himself, he wiped his eye with the back of his hand and took another step forward. “Have you been working out? You look strong. I bet you would make an excellent dance partner.” Aaron stood his ground, not responding as Greyson studied him. When his green eyes landed on the side of Aaron’s face, his grin grew wider. “Nice scar. Want a matching one on the other side?”

“Why don’t you just go home?” Aaron said, eyes narrowing. You wouldn’t think he was nervous by the tone of his voice, but I could tell he was by how he gently fidgeted with the corner of his jacket between his fingers.

Greyson released a piercing laugh. “What’s wrong? You don’t want to dance?”

“Are you really looking for a fight you can’t win?” Aaron responded with an incredulous look. He had a point. Greyson was a bit gangly, compared to Aaron. Plus, Aaron had height on him. You could easily make the initial impression that Aaron would overpower Greyson in a fight.

“Oh, no. No, no, no. I don’t know about that,” Greyson said with a soft chuckle, running a hand through his hair before shoving both hands into his pockets. “You might be a big bastard. But... I don’t play fair.” In a swift motion, Greyson pulled his hands out of his pockets and lunged at Aaron, his hand gripping a pocket knife. My eyes widened as I caught sight of the weapon, a breath catching in my throat. Aaron had a similar reaction and reacted quickly by grabbing Greyson’s wrist. I heard a growl from Greyson’s throat. “Come on, Aaron. Just a little bite!”

I stood paralyzed as the two struggled with each other. Aaron would still be fine, right? Of course he would win. Anxious thoughts continued to run through my head as the battle waged. Greyson was stronger than he appeared, and Aaron was wearing down. Block after block, dodge after dodge. The pocketknife caught his heavy, white jacket a couple times, ripping into the material that was fortunately thick enough to protect his skin. Maybe Chorus does care after all. Aaron couldn’t manage to get a hold on him to subdue him, and every punch he landed didn’t seem to phase his attacker. There was something unseen fueling him, some hunger.

Greyson shoved Aaron back against a sedan, his body slamming against the metal with a reverberating bang. Aaron grimaced and momentarily lost his footing, but caught himself by grabbing the trunk of the car. “Gah...Shit...” Wow. Aaron actually swears. It would have been funny if this was not a life or death situation. I had seen enough. Panic was settling in, and if I did not do something, Aaron would just turn in to another missing Stalker. I stepped out of my hiding spot and made a bee-line towards them both.

“This was fun. Sorry it’s over already,” Greyson taunted. He reversed the grip on the pocketknife and moved in. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, my feet pounding against the pavement. With a battle yell, I barreled into Greyson, catching him by surprise and knocking us both to the ground. The pocketknife clattered against the concrete out of his reach.

I winced as I fell and twisted my head around to where Greyson landed. On his hands and knees, he shook his head, hair draping over his face. He slowly turned towards me. “RK...RK....RK… There you are. Did you want to play too?” he growled as he stood, his face splitting into a wide smile. I hoped I bought Aaron enough time to recover.

I scrambled to my feet, but before Greyson could change his target, Aaron moved behind him and slipped his arms underneath his armpits, locking his hands behind his neck. Greyson struggled to free himself from the hold, his arms flailing in the air. Aaron twisted his body and threw Greyson against the car, his head smacking into the window and shattering the glass. Greyson fell limp to the pavement, shards falling around him.

I flinched at the sight, but I was distracted by Aaron’s urgent plea. “Leave him.” Together, we ran off away from the street and houses, the blaring car alarm becoming more and more distant the farther we ran. Soon, we were surrounded by trees, only the soft glow of Redacre’s lights visible over the dense foliage.

“I told you to go home,” Aaron said after twisting around to face me. He was in bad shape and struggled to catch his breath.

“Don’t be a fucking idiot, Aaron. You’d be dead if I did,” I retorted, looking at him defiantly.

Guilt flashed across his expression, but he managed a soft smile and held out his hand, extending it towards me. “Thank you for having my back. I hope we can be friends again,” he said to me.

I looked at his hand, lips pursed into a frown. A long moment passed between us before I turned my body. “Be careful on your way home, Aaron,” I gave him those parting words, pulling my hoodie over my head as I walked away.

Never again.

#the blackout club

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pandawritespoorly · 5 years ago

Text

With Time: Chapter 8 - The Revealer

Author’s Note: Here we go! An honesty akuma, which was one of things I thought of when this story could barely be considered a story. It's weird to be here, the timeline I've got planned for this story moved faster than I expected. The reference slide for the akuma can be found here!

Anyways, this is the beginning of... a lot. Buckle up buttercups, this is going to be fun!

Chapter Summary: Claude begins scheming. Ladybug and Chat Noir deal with an honesty akuma.

First | Previous | Next

Marinette’s phone dings on her desk as her friends classmates are standing to go. She crosses her room to pick it up, glancing at the screen, “Oh hey, Adrien got his phone back! He says that he wanted to let us all know that he got into Concours d'arts musicaux!” She starts tapping at the screen, probably sending a congratulatory reply, “Isn’t that great?!”

Allegra smacks her palm against her forehead, “ That’s what I forgot to tell you guys! I don’t know how I forgot. I got in too!”

“You did? That’s wonderful, Allegra!” Marinette gives the taller girl an excited hug.

“Yay! I’m jealous you two will get to spend a bunch of time together though, don’t forget the rest of us when you guys become stars!” Claude joins in the hug, pouting slightly.

“As if you’d let me forget you.”

“Never!”

“That’s great Al’, do you know when it is yet?” Allan gives her a hug too.

“No, but it won’t be for another few months.”

“Congratulations, Allegra!” Felix stands off to the side giving her a smile that she probably can’t see. Claude grabs him by the shirt and pulls him into the hug.

“There is no escaping a group hug, my friend!”

Felix sighs, accepting his fate for a moment and joining their hug before pulling away and straightening himself out. The other four break apart too.

“I’m so happy for you!” Claude is shaking in excitement.

Allegra shakes her head, smiling, “Claude, it hasn’t even happened yet.”

“Still!”

Eventually they do manage to get downstairs. As they say their goodbyes, Claude holds up his hands, “Wait!”

“What is it Claude?” Felix and the rest turn back to him. Marinette pauses in closing the door, looking at him questioningly.

“I have forgotten my textbook in Marinette’s room!”

“Oh, you can come back up and get it then.” Marinette opens up the door to let him back in. He races in.

“Do ya’ w-” Allan starts to shout after him before Claude calls down.

“No need to wait for me! You may go on without me, my pals!”

Allan shrugs, “That answers that question then.” He waves, “Bye ‘Nette!” The three turn and walk back to their respective homes.

Marinette shuts the door and exhales heavily, allowing the smile to fall from her face for one of the first times that day. That is, of course, until she hears Claude bounding back downstairs. At that, she fixes the look back onto her face, turning to greet him.

“Find it okay?”

“Yep!” He holds it up triumphantly.

She opens the door for him, “That’s a relief.”

He smiles at her, “Thanks for having us over again, Mari. It’s fun.”

She shrugs it off, “It’s no big deal-”

“We really enjoy hanging out with you, ya’ know.”

If Marinette had allowed herself to imagine him saying anything of the sort before, she may have reacted differently. However, as it was, she considered such a statement completely unrealistic and her surprise showed. She’d honed her acting skills in recent weeks though, so she was able to recover quickly, “Aw, you guys are sweet. It was nice having you over, goodnight Claude.”

Claude smiled at her, giving her a quick hug - seemingly on impulse - as he skipped out the door, “Goodnight Marinette!”

She shut the door, and as she did, his smile faded. He didn’t want to worry her - thank his wonderful acting skills for allowing him to pull that off - but she sounded more than just surprised by his simple statement - which would have been concerning enough on its own. She seemed completely caught off-guard, shocked - astonished even - and though he thought he’d noticed some hopefulness, it had gotten crushed immediately. The pig-tailed girl had better acting skills than he would have given her credit for, making him think through some things he’d filed away in the back of his mind as ‘off’ about her before. By the time he arrived home, he’d come some rather concerning and alarming conclusions. Pulling out his phone, he started putting a plan together.

He wouldn’t allow this to continue.

---

Marinette had actually gotten a reasonable amount of sleep when she woke up the next day. She’d slept in a little, which was a nice and surprising rarity. Checking her phone, she sees Claude’s usual good morning text.

Directly above it is an akuma alert. Darn it.

A type five too, fun . It could take a while, so she decides to quickly scribble a note to her parents that she would be out today in case they came up to her room. Saturdays can be pretty busy, but type fives are pretty annoying, and she didn’t want them to worry. Better safe than sorry.

Turning to her desk, she found her Kwami, still resting,“Hey, Tikki, you up?”

“I am now. What is it, Marinette?” the little Goddess sat up, looking to her chosen.

“There’s an akuma - type 5.”

“Okay, let’s go de-evilize it!” She floated up to be at eye-level as Marinette spoke the words.

“Tikki, spots on!”

Feeling the magic wrap around her, Ladybug takes a moment to prepare herself to go against another akuma. It is her job, yes, but keeping up the act when she is in front of a few people is very different than all of Paris. Not to mention the added stress of magical monsters and probably Alya.

She hasn’t spoken to her as Ladybug since before… that Thursday. As Marinette, not since she left.

She exhales deeply. Ladybug doesn’t have time for this, not with a type five on the loose. Shoving everything deep back down where it belongs, she hops out of the bedroom. Swinging in the direction of the akuma, she focuses on getting her mind back together. It is a little ways away, so she has time.

Ladybug is definitely approaching the akuma now. She can see plenty of citizens out on the streets. They look pained, and a few are speaking rapidly, many are crying. Others look upset or surprised at the very least. One couple seems to be in the midst of an impromptu proposal… interesting timing?

“Ladybug! Over here!”

Ladybug lets out a genuine smile for a moment at her partner. He’s one of her favorite people, and- no focus. If you can’t even stay on task you don’t deserve your miraculous. Quit smiling you moron.

She lands beside Chat Noir, “Sorry I’m late. Last time I’ll let myself sleep in.”

“I get that feeling. You let yourself get a few extra moments of well-deserved beauty sleep and Hawkmoth slaps you across the face with a dose of evil butterfly magic.”

“Heh. You been here much longer than me? Anything on the akuma?” Joking with her friend partner was something she didn’t earn today. She’d already treated herself to a few extra moments of sleep anyways. Time to actually do your job you airhead.

“Yeah, it’s going to be risky for us. We should really try to avoid getting hit…” Chat takes a moment to survey the area, making sure the akuma isn’t going to sneak up on the duo. She gives him a quizzical look before he continues, “It’s an honesty based akuma. She’s got two abilities. She can hit her gavel, which lets out a wave - if you get hit, it’ll slow you down- all of this is from observation. Don’t worry, she hasn’t seen me yet. Anyways, what we got to really look out for is when she throws her gavel - or the other circle-thing. If someone gets hit by either of them, they spill their guts. Seriously, these people just, like, let it go. It looks like you can hold it off for a little, but it looks painful? I’m not sure. I think people’ll tell more if someone asks them a question.”

“Yeah, okay we definitely need to be careful. Our secret identities are on the line.” Stupid, he already knew that.

Chat Noir nods, bowing, “Shall we?”

Ladybug scoffs, taking a few steps before leaping off the roof heading towards the akuma that has wandered a few blocks away. Her partner follows behind her dutifully.

Ladybug finally laid eyes on the victim. She has long hair and is dressed like Lady Justice but without the scales and sword. In place of the blindfold she has glasses. Her wrists are wrapped in thick, heavy chains, which trail behind her on the ground, ending in a ball, her ankles similarly have a weighty pair of ball and chains cuffed to them. Despite the burden, she moves quickly and purposefully, holding her arms aloft as she wanders the streets. In her hands she holds a gavel and a circular wooden sound block. Ladybug observes her for a moment longer, waiting to see her abilities in use.

She doesn’t have to wait long, soon enough the akuma hit the gavel to the sound block several times, releasing blue crescent shaped waves that rush out towards the people closest to her. Some get out of the way in time - others not so much. They slow considerably, and one unlucky soul gets hit by two and could probably end up losing a race to a snail.

Ladybug decides she’d done enough surveillance. She quickly puts herself ahead of the akuma, but stays on the roof. She shoots out her yo-yo, and as much it would be nice to wrap-up this akuma quickly (Chat would have liked that pun), she knows better. Type fives are never quick, and never easy. So while she is aiming to have her yo-yo wrap around the woman, she mostly wants the akuma’s attention. Knowing their goals and views on their task often helps to defeat them,

The akuma notices the weapon immediately, hitting it back with her gavel.

“Ladybug! Chat Noir! So you’ve finally decided to show up, huh? I am The Revealer, I was hurt by the truth being kept from me, so I’m going to make sure no important truths are kept from anyone! All secrets must be revealed, including yours!” She punctuates the statement by throwing each of the objects in her hands at the superpowered pair.

Ladybug steps out of the way, and Chat bats the one aimed at him away with his baton, “Thank you for the exposition, but I’m afraid some secrets are meant to stay that way. Purr -haps you could encourage good communication instead?”

“No! Lies will persist without my intervention.”

“I can agree with you there - no one like a liar.” Ladybug really sympathizes with this woman, she knows firsthand the pain lies can bring about, “But forcing people to tell the truth in this way could hurt more people than it will help.”

“If they lied,” the akuma bangs her gavel a few times, before throwing it and the block again - summoning new ones to replace them, “then they deserve any pain this brings about!”

The gavel hits a man walking with one of his friends. He immediately collapses - much to the concern of the friend. They drop to his side, and evidently hear many surprising and upsetting things. They pull out their phone, dialing a number before speaking rapidly both to the person on the other end and to the man when he snaps out of it. Grabbing their friend’s wrist, the pair hurry away.

Many similar scenes are playing out all over - Ladybug can hear the yelling of a woman who was cheated on and crying from various others. The akuma is blind to the hurt around her and continues throwing things.

“Ladybug! Chat Noir!” The Revealer has focused back on the heroes, “Paris demands to know the identity of the so-called heroes protecting them. How can we trust those that we know nothing about?!”

Dodging the projectiles, Ladybug calls back, “It is for our own safety that our identities are secret. We get the job done, that’s all you need to know.” She hooks her yo-yo above her, swinging to get behind the akuma.

“Even we don’t know each other’s identities.” Chat chimes in as he ducks beneath the gavel aimed at his forehead. “ Purr -tty sure that how superhero-ing works.”

The gavel keeps flying and hits someone standing nearby, “Babe! You good?”

Ladybug freezes - only her momentum keeps her moving - she knows that voice, even if she hasn’t heard in weeks. Nino .

Nino. Which means… if he’s talking to someone here - at an akuma attack - someone he called ‘babe’ then that could only mean…

She recovers, turning her head to the voice, and seeing him, and on the ground near him is Alya. She’s clutching at her chest and speaking rapidly. The heroine hears ‘Ladyblog’, ‘not good enough’, and ‘jealous of my best friend’, but can’t make out much more. The last statement throws her for a loop. Jealous of her best friend? She hasn’t seen Marinette in weeks, what is there to be jea-

Oh.

Lila.

Nevermind, she gets it now.

Stupid girl. Why would anyone be jealous of you ? You’re just some fool playing superhero until they find someone better. You’re not anyone’s best friend because no one would want to spend time - Wait hadn’t Claude said-

A crescent wave goes right past her face, snapping her out of her thoughts. Turning to Nino and (the now-recovered) Alya she says, “Get out of here. It’s dangerous.”

Alya is holding her phone, still recording, “Girl, I’m fine, I already got hit anyways and this isn’t live so nothing important can get out.” she looks to Ladybug, winking, “Unless you need some back-up?” She and Nino turn to her, smiling eagerly.

Ladybug stiffens slightly, though the pair don’t notice. Someone else does though, “She’s right. You two need to get out of here.” Chat blocks another gavel with his baton as he lands near them. Ladybug recovers, nodding in agreement before swinging back into the battle.

“Finally see sense? Have you decided to let Paris see your truths?”

“Sorry ma’am, but Chat and I have good reasons for the lies we tell.” Do you though? Not all your lies are about your Ladybug identity. Sometimes you just lie because you want to, sounds like someone else you know…

“I doubt that! You don’t feel the weight of your lies on your chest! You need me to show you just how wrong you are! Without me, how are you going to know all that you’ve done wrong? How will you make things better?! For that you need the truth!”

Ladybug scoffs quietly, muttering under her breath, “Ha! Joke’s on you lady, I already know that I’ve messed up big time! There is no righting my wrongs - truth won’t help me.” She’s quiet, and distracted with blocking more attacks. She misses how her partner’s fake ears twitch before he shoots a confused and concerned glance her way.

The Revealer hits her gavel several times, spinning in a circle and sending the glowing crescents everywhere. Ladybug returns to the rooftops and Chat Noir isn’t far behind. Seeing the heroes are out of her range, the victim moves on to reach more areas.

“Uh, Ladybug, you good?” “What?” Ladybug hears concern in his voice and her stress sky-rockets, what did she do?

“I just, uh, thought I heard you say something…? I thought maybe I should check on you…” He cocks his head, green eyes looking at her patiently.

You know the rules. You’ve memorized the rules. The rules are there for good reason and you can’t even follow them correctly.

She’s memorized the rules, and she knows them by heart and could recite them top to bottom, left to right, and she knows the last one well. It’s one of the more important ones, with them now numbered it’s #11.

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

It’s since been edited to include her partner, because unlike those she originally mentioned, he doesn’t even have a choice. His obligation to Paris requires him to put up with her idiocy on a near daily basis.

Stupid stupid stupid stupid you brainless numbskull. You’ve broken one of the rules, he’s worried about you now. For absolutely no reason. Fix this - now.

“Oh no, I’m fine kitty.” She puts on her most convincing smile, and pumps her voice with false sweetness and happiness that she doesn’t feel, “I think I just needed some more rest, that’s all!”

He keeps looking at her,”Are you sure? If something’s wrong…?”

“No, nothing’s wrong! I just need to be sure to get proper rest today, that’s all!”

He smiles at her weakly, “Alright, if you say so…”

“Mhm! Now, lets go get that akuma!”

“Right!”

The duo swings toward the direction they last saw the akuma head in. Ladybug’s thoughts trail behind her as she goes.

Stupid stupid stupid stupidstupidstupidstupidfailure…

---

It was just past noon, and they’d been at this for well over three hours and had gone through several Lucky Charms. Nothing seemed to be working, and it was hard to concentrate on setting up a trap for her when she was set on hitting them over the head with a gavel, or playing a painful game of frisbee with the sounding blocks, not to mention all the close calls with being slowed by a neon crescent wave.

“Maybe we should take a lunch break…” Chat has his hand on his knees, breathing heavily. They’re both tired, and have lost the akuma again.

Ladybug is about to protest - they need to do their job - but looking at her partner, doubled over and clearly overworked, she realizes he certainly deserves a break. He’s worked hard today, not to mention that she’d worried him earlier.

“Yeah, maybe we should. You certainly deserve one - be sure to eat something. Maybe check in with some people so they don’t wonder where you’ve been all day.”

“Bug, you deserve one too. We both have been at this all day. Besides, you must be tired out from being so radiant all day long.” He winks at her.

She huffs, folding her arms and turning away so he doesn’t see her blush. She is blushing from the compliment thank-you-very-much. She certainly doesn’t have any sort of crush on her partner. That would be unprofessional. She has a crush on Adrien and only Adrien . Not Chat Noir too - nope, no way.

“Farewell, my lady, enjoy your break!” Chat waves goodbye as he leaps away.

“Same to you, mon minou!” Ladybug heads in another direction, swinging from roof to roof until she lands on a familiar balcony.

“Tikki, spots off!” The Kwami in question shoots out of her earrings. Tikki waves tiredly at her as she floats down to presumably rest somewhere inside. She certainly deserves it - Marinette spent most of today transformed, with only a few very short breaks.

The tired and overworked girl flops onto her bed as soon as she’s inside. She wants to sleep, but her body refuses to shut down. Maybe it’s because she hasn’t eaten at all today. She’s fairly certain there’s leftovers in the fridge if she wanted them, but stairs seem like so much effort after hours of rooftop parkour. Her leg muscles are done with movement for now.

Her phone dings. Checking the screen she realizes that her friends have been messaging quite a bit while she was out, and there’s several messages asking about her. That’s right, she never responded to the good morning text from Claude - they’re probably worried now, good going.

Kid Mime: ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* Good morning my stars!!! *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Felix: Good morning, Claude.

Melodie: It’s too early to be up do you wake up early just to send a text?

Melodie: I know you’re not a morning person how do you do it?

Kid Mime: i’ll never tell

Kid Mime: my secrets shall remain that way for all of eternity

Kid Mime: i’m taking them to the grave

The Mom Friend: youd better not be heading there any time soon

Kid Mime: i dont plan on it

Kid Mime: whats this??!! Kid Mime: Allan isnt the last one up!

Kid Mime: this is almost unheard of!

The Mom Friend: im not?

Kid Mime: nope, Maris been quiet so far

The Mom Friend: huh

Felix: Perhaps she is sleeping in. She likely needs the rest.

The Mom Friend: that she does

Kid Mime: also unheard of! Today is a day of surprises!

Melodie: Marinette honey I hope we don’t wake you up.

Felix: I am fairly certain that we won’t. She may just have her phone off, or maybe it isn’t near her bed.

Kid Mime: maybe shes talking with adrien. I still wnat his number especialy now he has phone back

Melodie: How did he lose it again?

Kid Mime: i dunno

Felix: If I recall correctly, he did not perform as well as expected on a photoshoot, so his father decided to remove distractions, I believe he was pulled out of school for some time as well.

The Mom Friend: translation his dad sucks

Kid Mime: translatin allan is totally going to kidnap adiren

The Mom Friend: no I won’t

The Mom Friend: … not yet at least

Melodie: I’m in

Felix: You are all terrible influences on each other.

Kid Mime: u loooooveeee us!!!! :))

Felix: …

Felix: I do.

Kid Mime: YAAAAYYYYYYYY!!!!!

The Mom Friend: awww

Melodie: You’re all adorable.

Kid Mime: u no who els is adorable????

The Mom Friend: marinette!

Kid Mime: ding ding ding!

Kid Mime: where is are favorite fabulous fashionista??? Kid Mime: i miss herrrrrrrrr

Kid Mime: :(((((

Kid Mime D:

Felix: You just saw her yesterday.

Kid Mime: but i stil miss her

Melodie: Oh got to go for a moment.

Melodie: I’ll be back eventually

The Mom Friend: careful theres a akuma out

Melodie: I will!

The Mom Friend: you better

Kid Mime: maybe she’s been kidnapped!!! Kid Mime: we must find her

The Mom Friend: im sure shes good

The Mom Friend: jus getting wel deserved rest

Head Searcher: the hunt is on!!!

Head Searcher: she wil be found!!!

The Mom Friend: fe’ i can hear u sighing from across paris

Felix: Indeed.

Felix: Claude, it is very unlikely she has been kidnapped.

Felix: I agree with Allan’s guess.

Also Head Searcher: wat’s that Felix?

Felix: Nevermind.

Head Searcher: never fear! our cool, cute, and creative companion will be saved fromthe clutches of evil

Also Head Searcher: nice job with the alliteration

Also Head Searcher: ur on a roll today

Head Searcher: thx

Felix: The worst part is that I am unsure whether Allegra would be another voice of reason or if she would join in on your nonsense.

Melodie: What?

Melodie: Oh, hmmmm…

Head Searcher: do it do it do it!!!!

Marinette smiles as she finishes reading the texts she missed. She hates to have worried them, but they seem to think she just slept in so they’re fine. Deciding that she shouldn’t leave them hanging any longer, she hops into the fray.

Patisserie Princess: hi!

Patisserie Princess: im ok guys!

Melodie: Hi!!

Felix: As I said.

Felix: Good afternoon, Marinette:

Kid Mime: YAYYYY!!!!

Kid Mime: (つ・▽・)つ⊂(・▽・⊂)

Kid Mime: (つ≧▽≦)つ⊂(・ヮ・⊂)

The Mom Friend: u get some rest mari?

The Mom Friend: its past noon

Patisserie Princess: nah, i didnt sleep in much

Patisserie Princess: just lost my phone

Lies. They deserve better than that, they deserve someone who can be honest.

Kid Mime: u should sleep some! U deserve it!

Patisserie Princess: thx, but i’ve got to go again

Kid Mime: noooooooooooooooo

The Mom Friend: take care of urself

Melodie: Yes, please do. Have fun with whatever you’re up to.

Felix: Farewell, Marinette.

Kid Mime: buh-bye!

Patisserie Princess: ( ･ω･)ﾉ

Marinette sighs, putting her phone down. Her smile fades eventually as she just stares at the ceiling for a while, thinking of nothing in particular.

After some time she exhales sharply and sits up. Sticking her head over the side of her bed she says, “Tikki, are you up? I think it’s about time we get back to that akuma!”

“Really? That was quick… alright Marinette, let’s go!”

“Tikki, spots on!”

---

Adrien is halfway done with his lunch when his monitor dings. He’s been eating at his computer, keeping tabs on the akuma. Plagg is sitting on the desk, munching on some camembert.

Clicking on the link, he sees that above the footage added this morning, Alya has added a quick clip to the front of the Ladyblog, “What’s up Ladybloggers? Alya here! After what was presumably a break for the heroine, Ladybug is back!” The camera turns around, showing a red and black spotted girl leaping across the rooftops. Alya continues with the commentary as she follows, “One question that remains on most everyone’s mind is where is the back-up lately? I know I for one would love to see Rena Rouge or Carapace out in the thick of it! Anyways, due to the nature of this akuma, I will not be filming this live. Alya out!”

Adrien closes the tab, turning to Plagg, so had been watching with him, “Plagg, I’ve got to go! Ladybug is out there again, she needs me!”

“Sheesh kid, does your partner have any chill?” “This is serious Plagg!”

“So is your health! The two of you have been at this all day and have only been on break for an hour! You haven’t even finished your food!”

“But Plagg-”

“No. Adrien, you need to at least finish eating before you head back out there. And don’t just stuff your mouth, you’re going to be moving a lot. Can’t be much help if you make yourself sick.”

At Adrien’s doubtful look the cat continues, “Besides, you two have very different personalities. Cats are lazier, and rest more. Bugs are constantly buzzing around, you two are there to balance each-other out. Too much of either mindset would be bad.” he stuffs some camembert into his mouth, swallowing before he adds - almost as an afterthought, “Never leave a Bug and a Bee together on a project - they’ll work themselves to death.”

Adrien sighs, Plagg is right - he won’t be much use if he rushes out now. His Lady must just eat quickly, “Fine. But I’m only staying here another half-hour; 45 minutes tops!”

He resumes eating, albeit at a slightly faster pace.

“Fine by me, kitten.”

---

Despite the break, it’s been another six hours and the akuma is still around. People are starting to get upset, I know, I know, I need to do my job better - be better, please stop yelling at me.

Chat seems to be similarly over tired, having coming awfully close to snapping at a few people. She really needs to step up her game.

They’ve finally tracked down the akuma again, and they drop in front of her, ready to finally end this.

“Ladybug, Chat Noir, ready to admit defeat?”

“Nope.” Chat’s tone is clipped - he dropped the puns and bantering some hours ago.

“That’s a shame, it would make this so much easier!” More hits of the gavel before she tosses the items out of her hands again. It’s a formula they’re well-adjusted to by now and they dodge the projectiles tiredly. Ladybug swings behind The Revealer to be opposite Chat. When it looks like she’s distracted by the feline hero, Ladybug shoots her yo-yo out, aiming to restrain her arms to keep more projectiles from being thrown.

The spotted weapon has almost reached its mark when the akuma turns suddenly, holding her gavel out where the yo-yo is headed. The string makes contact and loops around several times.

The woman grins, letting it go.

If it had been earlier in the fight, or if Chat had been closer, or even if Ladybug had eaten or gotten more rest, maybe things would have been different, but as it was, when the yo-yo wrapped gavel came flying back at her, Ladybug’s reflexes are too slow to do much good.

The wooden mallet makes contact and Ladybug is down.

---

Author’s Note: Should the attack have lasted this long? Probably not. Did I want to make them suffer through an all-day akuma attack? You bet!

Foreshadowing? It was unintentional, but it's there.

A quick note on the music competition - I don't think I ever really explained it. Basically middle-school musicians tried out, and the winners get to practice regularly together to perform a concert in the spring. The concert will be hosted at a local school, but which one will it be? Hmm...

Once again, the reference slide for The Revealer can be found here! I'm tempted to post early in honor of Halloween? Or a bonus chapter maybe? Mostly because it feels weird writing so far ahead of what I've posted. That said, I really have to keep myself on a more reasonable schedule when it comes to updating this. Eh, we'll see.

Thanks for reading, and constructive criticism is welcomed in the comments below!

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#miraculous ladybug #transfer #with time #chameleon #chameleon salt #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #tikki #adrien agreste #chat noir #plagg #quantic kids #ml felix #text interactions #honesty akuma

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spacyparker · 5 years ago

Text

Perfectly imperfect || t.h

MASTERLIST - PROMPT LIST

Summary : You had broken up with Tom 2 months ago, but that doesn’t mean there is no more love between the two of you. But maybe it is still too late.

Characters : Tom Holland x reader

Word count : 2.3k

Warnings : Words !! I am not the polite type haha !Also I think it is just some kind of sadness and fluff !

A/N : I gotta say I am mostly proud of myself for this one ! Can’t wait for your feedback :) gonna write a part 2 if you guys want one !

There was once a promise, then there was a ring, and now only remained the last one. But that, Tom didn't know. He actually didn't know a fucking thing about you that would have had happened in the last two months. Because why would you two even speak ? You were split, broken up, fallen. And even though he asked Harrison many times about you, because damn he knew too well you both kept contact, the blonde guy had never told him a single thing. He was lost, hopeless and alone. Alone ? Was it really a word to use to describe Tom at that time ? He thought so, but no. Why would he even be alone ? He was Tom freaking Holland, and he could be partying and hooking up whenever he'd want. Which in fact he was actually doing.

There were moments were he cried. He cried because he missed you, because he had never given back your stuff in two months just like you didn't either. How many times did his brother caught him in the dark in his room, only holding your shirt that didn't even smelt like you anymore with red puffy eyes ? He cried because no one in the morning would make his eggs as crunchy as you as you were never a chef and always left pieces of eggshell in the plate. That thing was so fucking annoying when it happened back then, but now he was only nostalgic of your imperfections that got him so up on heels for you. He missed the scent of your hair and skin, the feeling of flesh against flesh, your bright Y/E/C eyes and that smile, that fucking smile that would always put one on his own lips.

He had screwed everything up, and he knew it. But Tom never saw or understood what he was doing wrong when you two were still together. He took you for granted, he played and he lost. Now remained emptiness in his chest even though he tried not to show anybody. But everybody knew. And every time he'd bring a girl to a date, or spent the night with someone, everybody stayed quiet. Because he was broken, and no one wanted to calm his enthusiasm. Nothing made sense. Not a fucking thing he did made sense. And not only his family and friends could see it, but the whole world. He was Tom freaking Holland, and paparazzi got his ass. Every time he'd move, every time he'd talk, there were here, just waiting for him to explain why he was seen with that many girls out there while he never seemed like this kind of person before he got with you. But everything had changed and he was just trying to cope with the feeling of abandon.

Which was totally hypocritical. Because Tom was the one who abandoned you though he wasn't paying attention. In fact he wasn't paying attention to anything. He was always too busy, always too tired, always too far away, always too grumpy or too not in the mood. As days and days passed, you felt like you didn't have any more boyfriend. And you stayed in that position for a good month before you decided that yes, your friends were right, and you needed to leave his side. You had nothing to feel guilty about : you deserved better and he was the one who started all the shit. But still it broke you. It broke you because you missed his laugh whenever you'd tell a joke, and god you were always telling jokes. It broke you because you missed him sending you his shirts just so you could have something to sniff at night whenever he wasn't home. But it most of all broke you because you loved him, you loved me like you never loved someone before and knowing he wasn't “yours” was terrific. So when you started seeing all these pictures of him hanging out with different girls, you were both angry and released. You didn't want want to be associated with such a womanizer, but how could he start dating other girls only weeks after your break up ?

The truth was that Tom was only desperate. He always thought you were the one, and he had to force himself to get to the point where this wasn't an absolute truth. He didn't want to believe it, but what could he do ? He tried reaching you so many times with not a single answer to his calls, texts or indirects on instagram. There was only his memories and pictures that kept your relationship alive. And sometimes, sometimes Tom wondered if you still got those pics, because you used to take a lot together, and even these presents he bought you. He wondered if you kept the ring, the much talked about ring that got the internet craving for some more infos.

“Why are you staring at me like that ?” You asked with frowned brows as you chewed your nutella croissant. Tom couldn't get his eyes off you, and he got this big silly smile curling his lips. Which was kind of cool, but not when you wanted to eat your breakfast in peace. You were never a morning person.

“I have something for you.” He said in a high-pitched excited voice, higher than usual.

“Tom, I swear if you're going to fart again I'm leaving this house.” You relationship was… totally complex-free. At least it became that way the first time you burped by accident around him. He has always been his true and entire self ever since. Which was weird sometimes, but you loved how you two never had to hide anything from the other. Still, it was not like this happened everyday.

“Whuuut ?” He got a fake offended look stuck to his face. “I was trying to be romantic, you just ruined it !”

“How is saying 'I have something for you' romantic ?” You asked with frowned brows, again. It seemed to happen a lot when you were with him.

“It is romantic because the present I got you is romantic, can't you wait and see ?!” A small chuckle escaped his lips. Tom knew you weren't the desperate and delicate sentimental kind of girl, so he wasn't surprised this just seemed weird for you. Anyways, he really wanted to do that.

“Ok, go on.”

He gulped before a big bright smile got on his lips again, and he got a small square box from under the table. But you gave him no chance to open it. “No.” You said out of breathe, because you couldn't seem to do inhale anymore.

Tom knew it was a risky move. So many people already broke you before, and he already had so much trouble to release you from this shell you had built around you and your heart. He knew how much you had suffered, how much you promised yourself to never fall in love again before you met him, and how much you were still scared of engagement. Because you thought that letting someone come into your life was giving them the power to leave you. And God you didn't know at that time, but you should have had listened to your gut and just stop relationships for a while.

“This isn't a proposing !” He immediately reassured you, himself now panicking. Maybe it was a bad idea, after all. He just wanted to make clear to everyone how much he loved you. A sight of relief fell off your lips, and he continued with now a trembling voice. “I know a ring always seems so official and stuff, but… I want this to be a promise ring, and-”

“A promise ring pretty seems like a proposing to me.” You cut him before pinching your lips together, ruining the moment as you always did when everything was becoming too cute and fluffy. You just couldn't help yourself, you just couldn't let him get that fucking terrifying power.

His eyes seemed so affected it broke your heart. You weren't proud of yourself, but you worked this way. He knew it, and he was totally thinking the situation would turn this way when he thought about it. He had just hoped maybe this time it would work.

“I just… I want you to see the ring as a present, the image of the love I hold for you. We've been together for almost a year, now, and you really helped me with both my personal and professional life. I just thought I could give you that to thank you, and so it could remind you everyday I love you more than anything even if that sounds fucking cliché. I want to see this ring as the proof of the love we share, and we will always share. So what you say ?”

When he opened the box, your look fell on the ring it was previously hiding. It was a beautiful masterpiece, and you could tell this cost more than your car. It looked very simple and yet so beautiful, with a diamond in the middle that seemed rough instead of perfectly shaped and plain, and four gold branches were holding it, looking like real very small tree branches to you, before joining in a perfect circle so you could put it around your finger.

“It looks so perfect.” Was the only thing you managed to mutter while you couldn't look away from the jewel.

“Perfectly imperfect.” Tom added with an unsure smile. “Just like you say everything needs to be.”

“Okay.” You slightly nodded before looking back at him.

“Okay ?” His smile got bigger, as if he was going to rip his lips up from all the happy stretching.

“Okay.” You smiled back. A genuine smile. No one had ever proved you they loved you before, and maybe it was time to accept you were lovable too.

Now all he got was this memory, and the many articles that talked about that ring when everyone thought you were engaged. And to be honest, it really felt as if you were. But time changed and he lost that too.

After the breakup, Tom had started posting a lot of pictures, which wasn't really his type before. He just wanted you to notice him, to see him. He was losing himself too, faking being happy and sometimes going all mad and posting a quote over a black screen as any teenager would do nowadays. He wanted you to know he still lived without you, but that sometimes it wasn't enough. He was craving your touch, you voice, your laugh, your scent, your words, everything that made you you. He was craving you. So much he started stalking on your social medias, but you never posted anything. No picture, no video, no text, no story. Nothing, just a radio silence he hated.

Until this morning. But it seemed to happen so late he couldn't do anything anymore. Two months had passed, he had done so many shitty things, and there was finally a proof of you still being alive. When he opened instagram that morning, his heart missed a beat so fucking quickly he thought he could have died of it. But he was still alive. Kind of. He rushed, urging his thumb to press your profile picture that appeared in the top left corner of his screen, and soon your story appeared before him. He stopped breathing without even noticing, because you were simply breathtaking and he almost forgot how beautiful you could be. He looked at the video three times, making sure he wasn't hallucinating. But no, he couldn't get it wrong. This ring, this specific ring, this promise ring was still taking centre stage on your finger. And suddenly, suddenly Tom felt alive, with that fucking butterflies in his stomach.

“What time is it ?” Moaned a feminine voice beside him. He jumped by surprise. Fucked. He was so fucked. All of this was a mistake, and he was just realizing it now he had seen that fucking ring still on your fucking finger.

Truth is Tom had started dating a this blonde girl a few days ago. She was totally over him and he needed to feel loved. It wasn't that serious for him, but still he had decided to get into a real relationship with her, thinking that feelings would follow with time or he'd just leave her when he would be tired of her. But that just made a week they got together, and now he felt trapped. Because he wanted to try to talk to you again now that he saw this, but at the same time he didn't want to seem like a cheating boyfriend. He had never done that, and he didn't want to become one. All his previous hook ups were nothing serious, so he thought it didn't count. In fact, he always told the girls it was just a one night thing, so they couldn't say they weren't aware.

“It's ten.” He simply answered. And the girl moaned again before stretching her body.

“Kay, gonna go make breakfast then.” She leaned on to kiss his bare shoulder, not even bothering to look at his phone screen before she got up. This girl trusted Tom, and this was her mistake.

She left the room, certainly to go to the kitchen as she had just told, but Tom couldn't care about that. He didn't even bother to look at her leaving as he always did. Instead, he got to your profile and opened the chat, his heart beating way too quickly as he managed to type a fucking idiot sentence he sent you without even really thinking.

Text from TOM : You're still wearing it.

And with that, if you didn't answer, then maybe it was really not meant to be.

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kainefloyd · 4 years ago

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{ KJ APA . CIS MALE . 23 . HE/HIM } did you see that { KAINE ‘KAI’ FLOYD } just pulled up in hidden hills with { LORENA RAMOS } sitting next to them in the passengers seat - isn’t that cute ! you know, for a { NBA PLAYER - LAKERS }, i’ve heard they’re really { INDECISIVE }, but that they make up for it by being so { CHARMING }. i see them all the time on snapchat && yesterday in US WEEKLY i read that they { HAVE } 2 sons - can you believe that ?!

some basics;

Kaine ‘Kai’ Floyd is originally from Hawaii. He is Samoan & Hawaiian.

Goes by the nickname K-9 in the NBA for his name and number.

Born August 19th

Most of his friends back home call him Kai.

There’s over 100 people in his immediate family. At this rate, he has lost count.

Oldest of 9 siblings.

Has the two most cutest, adorable baby boys with Lorena.

He’s a starting point guard for the LA Lakers

Attended UCLA for college where he got drafted out of. Never finished his degree.

Works with lots of children organizations and likes to give back to kids however he can.

Has endorsement deals with top athletic brands, drinks and his own branch/line off of everything he partakes in.

Him and Lorena were on basketball wives. They have a huge fan base of their relationship on social media thanks to the reality show.

Lives HERE currently

as a dad;

Father of Two Sons; Tide Alexander and Evian Reign.

Tide’s nickname are Ty, Ty Guy, My Ty. And Evian’s are Evy but Tide calls him baby Evy

He wants as many kids as Lo will give him. He’s huge into family, loves being a dad and is very careful when it comes to sex. His goal is to only have one baby mama in life that he’s in love with, can spoil and get to tie down/be a stay at home mom which can be an argument/disagreement point that we can work on.

Tide and Evian are his parents first grandkids, his grandparents first great grands and he has a sister who is four. His parents were young when they had him and now only 45 & 44. and his grandparents are in their 60′s and 70′s.

He’s such a push over, his kids pouts and when they wrap their arms around his neck or want to be held makes him melt.

They literally are the light of his life. Nothing means more to him than those two little boys.

Has a play room for them that is extreme, full out little kid basketball court, swing set inside, slides, arts and craft sections, all the toys, everything.

Tells bad dad jokes sometimes. Okay most of the time.

Has their names tattoo’d over his heart

Kaine will also be there to babysit, help out single moms and do whatever whenever. He’s super caring and loves friends that can turn into family. There’s nothing more that this guy loves than throwing down a huge bbq for everyone, being behind the grill and when the kids go to bed, turning up with all the drinks.

lorena;

Love of his life.

Her smile and laugh are everything. Making her blush and their size difference. Huge turn ons.

They have an on again, off again relationship since Evy. which he hates for him and his sons but knows he is an ass and they have to figure their shit out before having another kid.

Kaine can be super romantic at times, makes sure to include things she enjoys like candles and pays attention to the little things she loves in life.

Still keeps her closet open at his place, buying her things to have there to try and get her to spend the night.

Compares every girl in his life to her.

Flirts around sometimes but that’s mostly his personality when they’re off cause she’s kinda hot when jealous?

Downfall is Kaine. entirely. they are set for life with money and their family’s shares in ebay, then the millions he makes from the nba, his endorsement deals, reality tv and all of that so he expects lo to want to be a stay at home mom?

He’s a dumb dumb but literally is the type to grab up on her butt and kiss her neck, very affectionate with her is his personality no matter what.

Expresses his appreciation and admiration for her frequently for their family, their sons and her, etc.

Wants to always provide for her, in lots of ways.

Never gives up hope they’ll be together forever. that’s why he hasn’t really laid down roots in his place? because he has his own ideas.

Wants to build an empire with her.

Knows how lucky he is and like, admits it but has big jerk energy sometimes when it comes to pride and needs to recognize her dreams matter too? like she is an amazing mom and wifey type. 100 percent. but she should get to live out what she wants to do just like he does.

His father is the terrible influence he learned things from and his mom really needs to speak to him about all of this.

his hawaiian family life;

His father was super unfaithful and always stepping out on his mom. They had a very toxic relationship, but in the culture, his mom was pretty much left to deal with it.

Christianity and church is an important aspect in Hawaii so is their image.

They are Hawaii’s most famous family.

Kaine is the oldest of 8 kids that he knows of? would love a half sibling.

Kaine’s Tutu and Tuma (what he calls his paternal grandparents) are the matriarchs of the family and own acres and acres of land. They are beyond rich and created their own compound beachside where they had custom homes built for their children.

Kaine’s paternal grandfather and father are part owners of ebay and billionaires.

Kaine’s mother, Maria came from nothing. She was a model in New York City when she met Kaine’s father, Elei - EJ for short who was there for business. Her parents didn’t approve of her running off to marry him, but it wasn’t a question in her eyes. It was what she wanted to do and thought he was going to provide her with a life of luxury that allowed her to continue to stay in the modeling world.

All of his brother’s and sisters carry on the Hawaiian tradition with strong, Hawaiian names that came from ‘dreams’.

Maria is always in town as often as she can to visit, stays usually at Kaine’s and brings some of his siblings. Her family is estranged and she is struggling with trying to reconnect with them after all of these years.

kaine’s personal life;

Super loaded & knows what he likes and doesn’t in this world.

Is pretty private about things, not super flashy. Isn’t one for suits and stuff like that, even on game day. He does dress up during the playoffs though.

He’s into surfing, skateboarding, the island life and living, four wheeling, going on adventures, tanning and living more relaxed when he can.

His home is super open planned which he fixes and gates up accordingly when he has his kids, don’t worry.

Loves a good beer, chilling outdoors, going to the beach or having a bonfire on a Friday night.

Listens to all kinds of music.

His party habits are kind of wild when he does go out, though.

Dark Liquor has him crazy, tequila makes him super duper horny.

Def sends Lo risky texts when he’s drunk and you can tell by the look on his face when it’s time for him to go home.

Kaine is into working out, very dedicated to his ab life, has a home gym and a half basketball court at his house outside but also a personal trainer he visits and has over. His work is never done.

Very strict with his diet and has a chef that cooks for him weekly, prepares meals and stacks his fridge and freezer.

Tattoos are life. Has 12 currently and his artist on speed dial.

Has a huge man cave, collects old school vintage band and sports memorabilia.

Also into buying arcade games for his home to play at any time.

Is best friends with lots of top named players in the league and has a close, big brother/big brother relationship with Lebron James. Kobe was his idol.

Cars. This boy has 8 in Hidden Hills alone.

The house he owns is massive, but hates living in it without Lo.

Family owns a few private jets.

Wants to get dogs, he has some back in Hawaii that are his family dogs but for now he’s waiting until him and Lorena lay grounds better? Plus, he knows she loves her pup and doesn’t want to try and one up her.

connections;

in between on and off times with his baby mama, he has had some dating flings featured in the tabloids. not all are true, some are just friendships.

he knows that people could use him easily for fame and clout, so he is protective of himself and who he lets in his life.

no one random their sons ever. he’s extremely protective of them and his privacy, but is trying to make sure to branch out more and make more parent buddies.

as for friends, he’s a guy’s guy. loves saturdays being for the boys. would love all the friendships.

you can count on kaine to show up and come through with helping you whenever you’re in need. he’s a good listener, doesn’t care much about drama so you don’t have to worry about him repeating anything.

#hiddenhintros #kaine floyd | about #character study | muse #character study | kaine floyd

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mydisenchantedeulogy · 5 years ago

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Second Chance (Chapter Two) Be Still (Craig Tucker)

A/n: I may write a version of Second Chance for Kenny too. Depends on how this story goes. Tags are available; let me know if anyone wants to be on it.

Sunday before noon – before the weather got worse – Eden packed her suit case and left the apartment. Her beat up Taurus – nicknamed the Turd – was near a complete breakdown; not suited for long distance travels, but because she was only going 2 hours down the road, Eden thought the car would make it without a problem.

She was mistaken.

Outside South Park her car died. The rolling turd had a history of bad luck, most of which Eden was able to repair or replace. The newest issue was with the engine; it overheated nearly all the time. She had plans to take it in, but laziness on her part always seemed to prolong it. Hauling with her a bottle of water, she marched out into the cold and poured the liquid into the coolant tank – it would do until she found an auto shop in town.

Sending her cousin, a quick message she jumped back into the car, turned the heat up, and went on her way. The gauge on the dash stayed dangerously in the red, but she managed to find the shop and pulled in with a squeal. It was after 3, but no one was around; the parking lot was empty, apart from a vintage tow truck near the garage.

Eden tried the front door, but the store was locked up. She thought that maybe it was closed – the sign in the door said so – but hearing the faint sound of music drifting from the garage, she figured that someone was nearby.

“Hello. Hi … sorry to bother you, but my car needs coolant and I’m not sure how far I’m going to get without it.” Eden peaked into the room, noticing a pair of legs sticking out from beneath the front of a hulking SUV.

She tried to get their attention by clearing her voice – even calling out to them again – but still, they didn’t hear her.

Eden leaned down and gently touched the person’s leg. She felt them lurch in surprise. Their head striking the undercarriage of the SUV rocked the vehicle hard; hard enough that it knocked the balance off the floor jack and sent the load plummeting down. She managed to roll the creeper out until they were safe, barely able to keep them from having their upper body trapped.

“Fuck, dude. That hasn’t happened in a while.”

She wasn’t sure what they meant, but she sure as hell recognized them; the vibrant orange pants were an obvious hint.

“Kenny McCormick? Is that really you?”

Of course, it was. He hadn’t changed too much since high school, though his blond locks were a bit more unkempt. His stunning blue eyes lit up as he stared at Eden; a half smirk lifted his lips.

“Yeah. And who might you be?”

Eden frowned; he didn’t seem to recognize her. She honestly didn’t think she had changed too much. Her hair was longer, but that was about it. She aimed her eyes at the floor and curled her hair around her finger in embarrassment.

“Sorry … I thought you’d recognize me. It’s Edith Westbrook; from high school.”

We dated for a little while, she opted not to say. He was a rebound; he knew, but didn’t seem to mind.

Kenny couldn’t believe it. Eden Westbrook? He sat up and took her into his arms. “You look great – hot even; not like you weren’t already. It’s good to see you again.”

“Yeah. It’s good to see you too.” She hugged back. Parting from Kenny, Eden looked him over – a motion that brought a smile to his face. “Look at you; a mechanic. And you look great.”

She honestly didn’t know what to say. Her hands came up to cover her warm face.

“Still easy to embarrass I see. You’re too cute,” Kenny joked.

Eden playfully smacked his arm. “Stop it, play boy. It’s really great to see you doing so well.”

“It’s my dad’s shop, but I get around.” He still couldn’t believe she was back. “The fuck are you doing back in South Park? I thought you left for good?”

She ran her tongue over her bottom lip. “I’m not back; I’m here on business actually. Wendy called me.”

“Right. The wedding? I nearly forgot. Took Stan long enough to ask her – though I’m sure it was forced.”

Eden agreed. Stan and Wendy had been on and off as a couple for a long time. It was about time they settled down.

“A risky thing to do, but I’m sure Stan knows that. I’m happy he’s found someone to spend his life with.”

Kenny smirked. “Or until she divorces him. Some of the guys and I made a bet – more cash in my pocket if I win.”

“I was right; you haven’t changed a bit.” Eden rolled her eyes in a playful manner. She took a breath and frowned. As much as she wanted to continue on with this reunion, she had somewhere else to be.

“Think I could buy some coolant from you? My engine keeps overheating, and I really need to meet Shelly at the coffeehouse in a few hours.”

“Store is closed today,” Kenny said with a sigh. He was actually working just to clear his mind. “I can take a look at it tomorrow before noon though. It sounds like a number of things, and honestly your engine won’t stop overheating if the problem isn’t fixed. Coolant alone won’t repair a broken radiator fan or a stuck thermostat.”

“How much will that cost? And how long will it take?”

Kenny laughed and stood up, extending his arms above his head. His back cracked in protest. “Can’t say for sure until I’ve looked at it, but don’t fret; I’ve got you, babe. Until then, I can give you a ride into town.”

“I’d appreciate it,” she replied.

The flirty blond dug a set of keys out of his pocket and tossed them to her. “That tow truck by the door is mine. You can start it up and get the heat going while I close up, if you want.”

“Be still my heart,” Eden joked. She gave him a wink and walked out towards her car to grab her suit case.

Once she had it, she jumped into the passenger seat of the tow truck and started up the engine, along with the heat. Her phone was silent; Shelly hadn’t replied to her earlier message. Eden decided to ignore it and waited for Kenny.

He appeared moments later wearing an orange parka – a different style than the one he wore as a teenager; this one had brown patches around the elbows and a high collar that fastened beneath his chin – and jumped into the seat next to her.

“Miss me,” he joked.

Eden snorted in laughter. “Every second.”

With a smile, Kenny drove the truck out of the lot and headed towards town. He took her passed City Hall and allowed her to a chance to look around.

Nothing had changed too much since High School. A few new buildings were scattered here and there – mostly apartments and new stores. Eden stared out the window in glee. Memories flooded her mind; some good and others not worth recalling. This town was a big part of her life, a fact she wasn’t sure she was proud of or not.

By the time Kenny parked the truck in the parking lot of the coffeehouse, she was staring at her hands in concern. Was it honestly a good idea to come back here? A gentle sigh from Kenny brought her back to reality. She turned and forced a smile.

“Thanks a bunch for helping me, Ken.”

He nodded. “No problem. I’ll see you at the rehearsal in a few days, so just leave your car to me.”

Leaning forward with hesitation, Eden gave him a kiss on the cheek. Her face warmed up; she owed him this much. She grabbed her luggage and waved to Kenny as she got out the truck, walking towards the door. The sound of his truck roaring to life made her pause with uncertainty, but she took a deep breath and went inside.

All she had to do was wait on Shelly to pick her up; no problem.

The place was mostly empty as Eden walked up to the counter – very few people were inside. She was surprised Mr. Tweek hadn’t sold the shop; it was pretty old. The coffee was good though; addictive even. She decided to buy a cup, ringing the bell near the register.

Moments later, she saw another familiar face. He appeared from inside the employees only door behind the counter. His wide blue eyes landed on her and unlike Kenny, he seemed to know who she was.

“Gah! Eden … you’re back.”

She bobbed her head. “Only for the wedding. It’s good to see you again, Tweek. Are you doing well?”

“I’m making it, I guess! And you?”

It was obvious that twitching had gotten a little better. He was able to keep himself from grounding his teeth or clutching his hands. Eden admired his progress. She didn’t speak to Tweek much in school, but she was around him quite often.

“I’m doing pretty good. Mind if I get a cappuccino? I’m actually waiting on Shelly to pick me up. Has she done been by here?”

“I … I don’t know,” he answered in uncertainty. “But I don’t mind if you want to stick around until she gets here! Nngh! I’ll bring your drink out to you in a little bit!”

Eden thanked him again, moving her luggage to the first set of booths next to the counter. She took out her phone and checked her messages; still no word from Shelly. Eden shot her another text and set her phone down on the table. What was taking her so long to respond?

Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes for a brief moment. With all that was going on, Eden didn’t realize how tired she was. Her time in South Park was set to be a hectic one; sleep wouldn’t come easy for her, not with the week Bridezilla had planned. She just wanted to get to the apartment and rest before the fitting tomorrow.

The chill air on her face suddenly urged her tired eyes open. She glanced towards the door and noticed a troupe of people come in; a familiar troupe of people. Eden snatched up her phone and buried her attention into it, listening as they spoke noisily to Tweek at the counter. Her heat pounded in her chest; fucking idiot. Did she not expect this?

Fortunately for Eden, the group of 4 didn’t seem to notice her. She thought she was in safe hands with Tweek, but once again she was mistaken. Her own name on his tongue brought tears to her eyes; a pen drop could be heard.

Moments later she was startled by someone dropping into the seat beside her, nearly on top of her. Eden squeaked as they embraced her closely – Bebe was an affectionate and very hands on friend.

“I am so happy you’re here – you have no idea,” she spoke.

Eden gently pried herself away, giving her a smile. “Wendy would never forgive me if I missed her big day.”

“No question,” Bebe agreed. “Now that you’re the new maid of honor; she’d probably kill you.”

Don’t remind me, Eden groaned. She narrowed her eyes in empathy. “I’m really sorry about that. You should have been the maid of honor, not me.”

“It’s no big. I was totally serious what I said; you’re the only girl brave enough to walk down the aisle with Cartman.”

“Only because of Stan,” Eden clarified. “I’d never be able to endure his behavior if it weren’t fo––

A sudden laugh interrupted her. Clyde took a seat, shuffling over so that Token could sit down.

“How is cousin Stan? Kenny and I have a wager going – I bet a year.”

Eden stifled a laugh. She’d heard. “He’s fine, I guess. Haven’t really spoken to him yet.”

She waved at Token and glanced at her phone again. Still no word from Shelly. And where was Tweek with her cappuccino? She really didn’t want to continue this reunion; not with Craig nearby. Eden tapped her finger against the counter. Where was he? Didn’t he want to see her again?

“So … any plans now that you’re back?”

Eden puckered a brow. Besides the wedding, she had none. She shook her head in disagreement. “Once this is over, I plan to return to Colorado Springs.”

“Really? I thought now that you were back in town, you’d make up with Craig. You know he––

Token gently elbowed his shoulder. “You can’t ask her that; it’s in bad taste.”

“Really, babe. Leave her alone.” Bebe leaned her weight against Eden’s arm. “Ignore him; he’s an idiot.”

He went to counter but instead swore under his breath as a carrier fell on the table with a loud thud. The contents in each cup luckily didn’t spill over, but the noise was enough to startle everyone at the booth.

“Fuck, man. Are you trying to scare us?”

Craig flipped him the bird and dropped into a seat he pulled up from the counter. His cold blue eyes fell on Eden for a moment – to gauge her reaction – but she was staring at her hands with concern on her face. He had to admit, long hair suited her.

“A carrier? I thought we were hanging out here for a while?” Token passed out the drinks as he waited for Craig to explain – Eden thanked him with a nervous smile.

“Decided not to,” Craig said simply.

His voice alone made her skin prickle. Was he upset that she was here? It wasn’t her fault; Shelly asked her to come here. Besides, it was her who should be mad, not him.

“What are your plans for today, Eden? If you’re free, you should totally hang with us,” Bebe suggested.

Eden quickly declined. “Sorry, but I don’t think it would be a good idea; not with the fitting early tomorrow. My car is parked at the shop Kenny and his dad owns, so I don’t currently have a ride home.”

“You met up with Kenny already? Where are you staying? Clyde and I can take you there.”

Close as she was to Eden, the fair-haired woman knew how curious Bebe was. The less she knew, the better.

“He brought me here. Shelly was meant to pick me up, but I haven’t been able to get a hold of her in a few hours,” she answered.

Bebe smiled. “Come stay with me tonight. We’re both getting fitted tomorrow.”

It wasn’t a bad idea. Eden tested her coffee and took a careful drink; she hummed in excitement.

“Are you sure? I’d hate to impose.”

Bebe shook her head. “It’s no problem. We can make some drinks and chat about all the little things in our lives.”

High school all over again. Eden agreed with a nod. She hadn’t been to a sleep over in a long time. “Sounds like fun.”

“Then let’s get moving,” Bebe said with a smile. She stood up and allowed Eden to do the same, more or less yanking her from the booth in excitement.

In a rush, she forgot her suit case.

#craig tucker #aged up #south park fanfiction #oc #kenny mccormick

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mattschues · 5 years ago

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Discussion || Schanderson

Tagging: Matt Schuester and Blaine Anderson ( @doveportblaine ) When: January 6, 2020 Where: The parking lot and then Matt’s house Notes: This is a continuation from this text thread.

A meeting was held at Matt and @jacienpuckerman‘s fire station where the Australian bushfires were discussed. The chief asked for volunteers and if any of them wishes to go they will leave Wednesday for an undetermined amount of time. As of now more than 100 firefighters have been sent from across the nation and more are desperately needed.

In this para Matt and Blaine have a discussion about what’s to take place.

For more information on ways to help, check out this link.

Matt

Ever since Matt became a firefighter he promised he'd be there to help people no matter the risks. Were there fucking scary situations? Uh yeah. Many. Most of those he didn't talk about with people outside of is work family because he knew it would worry others. Matt knew the trip his chief proposed would be one of the scariest things he's ever encountered but he still felt that pull to go. To do what he felt was the right thing to do. However, there was also a part of him that thought of Blaine. They were still so new to their relationship but he knew his boyfriend worried of the things he encountered in Doveport. The bushfires were massive and many people and animals have lost their lives due to it. Matt couldn't make this choice, not without talking it through with Blaine. He felt a terrible boyfriend for putting him in this situation. He never wanted to cause Blaine any worry and now he here was. Thinking about doing something insane. Matt drove his car to the front, as promised, and waited for B to meet him. He didn't know if they were to stick around here or drive to one of their houses. Or elsewhere.

Blaine

With his work apron neatly folded and tucked under one arm, Blaine squinted against the glare of the midwinter sun as he left work. He'd been operating mostly on auto-pilot for the last half hour of his shift -- taking orders and making drinks was mostly automatic anyway, and he'd been trying to ignore the hollow ache in the pit of his stomach ever since Matt's last few texts. He hadn't even fully gotten a handle on Matt running into burning buildings on purpose yet, but this? This was so much bigger than anything he could have ever imagined. Blaine spotted Matt's car right away, and crossed over to tap gently on the driver's side window. He managed to muster up a wan little smile as he wiggled his fingers in a silent wave.

Matt

Sometimes when Matt was able to come around and pick Blaine up, he’d have his 80s playlist on and singing to The B-52s or Mike and the Mechanics. Right now the silence weighed on him. When Blaine’s tap jostled him out of his thoughts Matt grinned. He unlocked the doors and motioned for B to come around.

Blaine

It was never going to feel normal, seeing Matt so subdued. Even with the grin there was an edge to the way he held himself, and that did nothing for the anxious little knot in Blaine’s gut. He skirted around the car quickly and slid in, leaning across the center console for a kiss as he pulled the door shut behind him. “Hey stranger – I think somebody promised me a hug,” he murmured.

Matt

Matt’s hand went to the side of Blaine’s neck and held on while they kissed. It helped ease him some but he kept with his lips against his a beat or two longer than usual. “Hey.” He said, kissing his lips again. “Didn’t your parents teach you not to get in stranger’s cars?” Matt teased. They have a heavy talk ahead of them and wanted to feel this small bit of happy before. “Let’s go to my place and I’ll hug you the whole time we’re there. How does that sound?”

Blaine

Blaine closed his eyes and leaned into the kiss, grasping at that small little thread of normal. He gave a small huff of laughter at the joke, as mild as it was, and pulled back with a nod. “Sounds good. We can come back for my car later, but I’d rather be able to sit down and talk without interruptions.”

Matt

“If this was any other kind of talk I’d say I would struggle not distracting you. Even in public.” Matt’s hand went down Blaine’s arm and as soon as he reached his wrist he brought his boyfriend’s wrist to kiss. “I really am sorry about this.” There was some hesitation but Matt pushed through it. “If this feels like it got too real too fast I get it if you need space.”

Blaine

“I don’t need space, Matt. I need you to talk to me, so I can understand what’s going on and what your thought process is. But I’m not walking away from this, not now,” Blaine insisted, his fingers curling around Matt’s. “Just because it’s been easy so far doesn’t mean it’s less real — now we just have to figure out how to navigate the hard parts.”

Matt

He knew Blaine wouldn’t just up and leave, it wasn’t like him considering the talks they’ve had before. Something like this however was so damn heavy that not everyone can handle it. Especially with a semi new relationship. “We’ll figure that out. As best as we can.” Matt lowered Blaine’s hand and as soon as he was buckled in Matt took his hand once the drive started. Less than 10 minutes later they pulled up to Matt’s house and he let Blaine in. After a quick check Matt knew Evan was out so they were alone. But, before sitting at the kitchen table, Matt pulled Blaine into a hug and wrapped him tight within his strong arms. They may have been new but this man meant everything to him

Blaine

Being engulfed in Matt’s embrace made the anxiety in Blaine’s chest loosen just a little. He looped his arms up over Matt’s shoulders and buried his face against the sharp curve of his collarbone, holding on for dear life. He couldn’t shake the feeling that no matter how this conversation ended, their relationship, new as it was, was about to change. Whether that was a good change or a bad change — Blaine was afraid to find out, but avoiding it entirely wasn’t an option.“Do you want me to make coffee?” he asked, his voice muffled against Matt’s shirt.

Matt

Matt hated himself in that moment for putting Blaine through this. It was easier before when he kept relationships at a distance. That being with him only caused pain. It caused people to leave and he knew if he chose a different career it’d be different. “You’ve been making coffee all day, baby. Take a break.” His lips, buried into Blaine’s hair, and did his best to try to save this memory in his head. That if he goes through with this that he’ll have one of this to think back to. Matt broke the hug and thought about talking at the table but changed his mind and went to the arm chair, where he encouraged Blaine to sit on his lap and keep his close throughout this talk.

Blaine

Blaine followed without resistance – Matt seemed to get a kick out of having him curled up in his lap even on a good day, and Blaine was reluctant to deny them both the comfort, even if it made it a little more difficult to watch Matt’s face. He settled himself sideways so he could tuck his head against Matt’s shoulder and just breathed him in for a long moment. “Okay. Let’s start at the beginning,” he said quietly, when he couldn’t avoid it any longer. “I’ve been watching the news – I have an idea of what’s going on, at least. How bad are we talking, and what exactly did the chief ask people to volunteer for?”

Matt

Matt was glad he went for the facts because that’s what it came down to. “Right now the priority is to stop the flames from spreading. Many people’s homes are ruined. Not many in the way of human casualties, which is good though there are millions of animals. There’s been some relief with rain, which is good but then you’ve got these fire storms that make it worse since the lightning from it sparks new fires. You’d think we’re in the middle of some insane disaster movie.” He said and took a moment to look at Blaine before continuing. The fire’s expected to worsen this weekend since temps are climbing fast. The need more manpower to provide relief to the men and women who’ve been fighting this things around the clock. Granted these bushfires have been an issue for months but it’s getting out of control. And the chief, well he wants to send us along with volunteers from Georgia, Tennessee and Kentucky to South Wales. It’s risky. All fires are but there haven’t been any reported death amongst the crews and they’ve got all the equipment needed to try to get the upper hand on this nightmare.” Matt didn’t know if this answered much but he continued. “There’s talk of volunteers staying anywhere from a week to a month. To give you an idea how long it can go for.”

Blaine

Whatever relief Blaine felt at the assurance that there hadn't been any reported deaths among the crews faded quickly at that last bit of information. "A month?" he echoed, lifting his head in shock. A month away would be... almost Valentine's Day. And how small and selfish did that make him, that his first thought was that Matt might not be around for their first Valentine's Day together? He took a deep breath, steadying himself, before refocusing on other things. "You said it's expected to get worse this weekend because of the rising temperatures. That means they need people before then, doesn't it?"

Matt

“I know. It’s a long time. But if the NIFC, which is the National Interagency Fire Center, keeps getting more stations involved it could be less time than that.” Matt didn’t want to miss Blaine’s birthday. He just started to plan it...If he decides to go he may need to find a way to make sure the plans keep going while gone. “Yeah. It does. We’ll have to fly out Wednesday.” Matt quieted after that and moved his head over to look at him. “I want to help. I feel that pull to go. They really need experienced fire fighters, especially those with wildfire experience. Which I have from when I volunteered in California.” Matt frown after he spoke and sighed. “I feel like shit for doing this. For even considering this. I get my family cares about me. After Betsy I didn’t date at all and then you came into my life one day and all I wanted was to see you laugh and smile whenever I’m around. And now, now we’re together and you’re learning about the hard part of my job. Or of me I guess because I can tell the chief no. It’s not like it’s mandatory.” A but lingered heavily after he spoke and Matt’s frown deepened. “Sometimes I hate this need to help.”

Blaine

"Don't hate that part of yourself," Blaine said quietly. He looped one arm up around Matt's neck, linking them together. "You can hate the decisions it forces you into, but don't hate something that's a part of you." He turned his face into Matt's shoulder with a shuddering sigh. "Wednesday. On the other side of the world." It didn't quite seem real, but he should have known things were going too smoothly. "If it weren't for me," Blaine murmured, "you'd already have your name on that list. Wouldn't you?"

Matt

He wanted to say no. He wanted to tell Blaine he would have talked it over with his family first but he knew the truth. He told them his plans but not as a means of a discussion. Matt nodded his head after a few passing moments and dropped his eyes from Blaine’s. “I love my family. But they’ve accepted this is how I am. It doesn’t mean they agree with it.” His eyes raised slowly to those hazel eyes that held such pain. “And I feel strongly when it comes to you and what we have. I couldn’t agree to it without talking to you. It wouldn’t be right.”

Blaine

Blaine leaned forward to touch his lips to Matt's gently. "If you ever agree to something like this without talking to me first, I will never forgive you," he whispered into the kiss. After a moment he pulled back, his eyes serious. "But I'm not here to change who you are or hold you back, either. If there's proper safety precautions, and the need is genuine and immediate -- if you need your name on that list, add it tomorrow."

Matt

This was different from when they talked about Bets and what happened with the little kids. Matt knew there will be other emergencies, it was his job to be there. Yes, this was something he had a say in but..but this was him. This will continue to be the man he is. Matt’s hand went to Blaine’s cheek and kissed him, just as gentle as Blaine was before. “I’ll check in as much as I can. And take extra precautions. I have to come home and annoy you after all. I can’t let you go too long without seeing my handsome face or feeling my lips against yours.” Matt’s forehead pressed to Blaine’s. “And please write me too while I’m gone. Even if it’s to tell me you’re worried or scared or you think I’m insane. I just want to know you’re thinking of me and not trying to find a way to end this.”

Blaine

"I'm always worried," Blaine assured him. "I'm definitely scared, you're almost certainly insane, and I will absolutely be thinking of you. But there's no way in hell I'm ending this." He tilted his head into Matt's as well, an uncertain look flitting across his face. "I'll try to message you. I don't want to distract you when you need to be focused on your job, and I can't be the reason you make a mistake, but I want to make sure you remember I'll still be here, too."

Matt

Was Matt scares about what he was about to volunteer for? Yes. Very. He was scared with all the dangerous calls he went into but his drive and heart kicked in, along with a surge of adrenaline, and he did his best. Blaine was so good to him, Matt lucky to have such an understanding man who he grew to love more and more with each passing day. How, especially now, he wanted to tell him. “I’m sure I’ll find a free moment where I’ll send you a video of me butchering another song.” Matt’s arms went around Blaine’s body and hugged him as his lips found his. “When I come home I may go to the coffee shop and throw you over my shoulder and tell everyone they’ll hear from you after a couple days.”

Blaine

"If you send me any song with the word 'fire' in the title, you'll live to regret it," Blaine countered. He snaked both arms around Matt's neck, fingers tangling in the back of his hair. "Big talk there, Schuester. Implying that you could actually throw me over your shoulder or keep me busy for two solid days."

Matt

Matt cocked his head to the side and grinned. “Don’t think I’m strong enough or you plan to fight me on it? Because I’ll have the element of surprise on my side.” He slid a hand underneath Blaine’s knees and wrapped his arm around his back before he scooted to the edge of the chair and stood with Blaine in his arms, shifting to get him in a proper hold. Never has he carried Blaine this way and such a proud looked crossed his face. “You’ve seen how I am after two days without you. My needy ass will need a minimum of two days with you when I get back. I’ll have no trouble keeping you busy.” He said as he headed to his room. “Besides, I doubt you’ll fight me too much if I lock us away from the outside world since I’m your favorite person and all.”

Blaine

Suddenly finding himself hoisted into the air startled a sharp cry out of Blaine, and his arms locked around Matt's neck purely out of reflex. He honestly hadn't thought that he was small enough or Matt strong enough to lift him -- there was only a couple of inches difference in their heights, after all -- but he probably shouldn't be surprised that Matt felt the need to prove it. He recovered quickly enough to crane his neck and plant a kiss on the side of Matt's neck. "I think I might need a preview. Just so I know what I'm in for. Since I'm your favorite person and all."

Matt

Blaine's surprise sound only caused Matt's smirk to grow. The countless hours at the station's gym kept him in awesome shape, as he'd had to carry people heavier than him on occasion and didn't want to be stuck in a situation where he struggled with someone in need of rescue. Matt looked to Blaine as he walked and said, "No duh, Anderson. Been telling you all this time you are. Glad you've finally listened to me." Matt joked, walking him to his bedroom. Matt didn't know what will happen during his time in South Wales but he'd do everything in his power. For his family and for this man he held to his body. Their story was just getting started and he intended to create more and more chapters with him; however long Blaine will have let him.

#para: blaine #tw australia bushfire #tw australia wildfire #tw bushfire #tw wildfire #tw fire #fire #australia bushfire #australia wildfire #tw current events #wildfire #bushfire

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adrienaline-rushed-art · 6 years ago

Text

Hunger Game

Rating: G

Genre: Rom/Com

Words: 2846

Ship: Adrien x Nino

Summary: Adrien makes up a bullshit game to pretend he hasn't been beating around the 'ask-him-out' bush for the last 3 years.

A/N: I just realized this reminds me of Rhett & Link’s “Are You Gonna Eat That”

This is for @mari-monsta happy belated you beautiful starlight princess

Ao3 fanfic

“You’re doing it again,” Alya nudged Adrien’s arm. She sat next to him in the Dupain-Cheng bakery, a bakery they frequented often for the ‘Marinette-friend-exclusive’ free treats.

The two of them were sitting across from Marinette and Nino, who had gotten themselves caught up in their own discussion about the importance of music videos. Marinette and Nino had been friends since the fifth grade and their ability to start their own conversation in a group of four proved as much. Being the new kids, Alya and Adrien clicked immediately - bad news for any teachers who didn’t appreciate playful snickers from students who were perfectly on task and behaved otherwise. They couldn’t send two students to the principal's office for being done with classwork thirty minutes ahead of time just for laughing softly.

So although the four of them had all eventually gotten to know each other and formed an unbreakable bond, there were still two separate pairs that had their own things to talk about.

“Doing what again? I’m just trying to listen to them,” Adrien spared Alya a glance before returning his focus back to the chattering pair in front of him.

Alya’s upper lip twitched, unimpressed. “You’re making the eyes .”

“I’m looking at them. You know? The way people who are respectfully listening do?”

“You’re looking at him, and no, there’s definitely more to it than that.”

Adrien glared at her. “I’m listening, Al, I’m listening. What more could I be doing?”

Alya batted her eyes, imitating the sparkling, lovestruck expression Adrien wore just a few seconds ago. “I don’t know, maybe you’re really into that eclair.”

He pouted but said nothing. Instead, he turned back to Marinette and Nino and did the only thing that would get him out of any further questions; he joined the conversation. “Filters are something to take into account.”

“That’s true!” Marinette smiled, “and then there’s lighting, which can really make or break a mood.”

Nino pointed his finger at the invisible list of points on the table, “Right, and that’s what I’m saying about camera work and editing. The angles, the cuts… it creates pacing that never goes unnoticed.”

“It’s subconsciously noticed, though. I think wardrobe is something more people relate to,” Marinette shrugged.

“But is it really essential? I mean clothes can look nice, I guess-”

“If you saw a chick wearing a nun robe in a twerking video you’d notice.”

“That’s extreme…”

“I don’t think either of those are the most important part of a music video,” Adrien interrupted.

Nino and Marinette blinked at him. Adrien paused, he’d mostly said that to suggest a compromise, but he found himself eyeing Nino.

“Well, what about the music itself?” Adrien continued.

Nino raised his eyebrows, shifting from his sideways position to face Adrien fully.

“L-like,” Adrien focused the gestures his hands were making, “the sound of the music is different in the music video. Artists put effects on it sometimes to fit the surroundings, or other times there are breaks where you could almost say the visuals are meant to be the music.”

Nino’s eyes lit up and he smiled, “Hey, yeah! That’s a really good point.”

Marinette chuckled guiltily. “Sorry, I just realized how wrapped up we got there.”

“No, it’s ok, it was interesting,” Adrien rubbed the back of his neck.

Nino reached his hand across the table, making Adrien flinch before reflexively putting his hand over Nino’s. Adrien froze when Nino looked at him oddly.

“O-oh!” Adrien retreated his hand, “i-is that not… is that not what we were doing? I thought- uh…”

Nino laughed, it was a melody that replayed in Adrien’s mind over and over again. “Are you trying to protect the plate from me?”

Adrien blinked, his eyes trailing Nino’s line of sight. Right beside his elbow was the plate of pastries, which Adrien had forgotten he’d dragged closer to himself. “Um… yes?”

In his peripheral vision, he could see Alya rolling her eyes.

“Well, you’re on, dude!” Nino lunged forward, reaching for the plate. Adrien blocked him, his arm briefly indulging in the warmth of Nino’s hand.

“Ok, kids,” Sabine stood at the doorway next to the stairs as Tom passed her, “we’re ready to lock up, I think it’s time you all went home before it gets too dark. And I’d suggest you all save some of those leftovers for later, you’ll get a stomach ache if you try to finish it now.”

Nino released Adrien’s arm and eyed him over the rim of his glasses. “You win this round.”

* * *

Adrien paced around Alya’s room, his finger hovering over the enter key of his phone. “‘So, when do I get to win the next round?’, how’s that sound?”

It had been exactly eighteen hours since Nino had challenged him. Whether or not Nino was serious, Adrien wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t going to pass an opportunity.

“Good, very playful, I like it. Now, sit down and relax. You’re doing great, Sweetie.”

“But, then what? What am I supposed to tell him if he doesn’t catch on?”

“Which, he probably won’t...”

“Should I be blunt? Or is that too risky?”

Alya stood up from her desk chair and pushed Adrien to sit on her bed. “Do you trust Nino?”

“Of course!”

“Then tell him, you know Nino would never do anything to hurt you. If things don’t work out the way you hoped, things will just go back to normal. Trust me, I think Nino’s that kind of guy.”

“Well…”

“If you’re comfortable, go for it!”

“Ok,” Adrien looked determined, pushing his thumb closer to the touchscreen.

“Do it!”

He tapped on the key. Alya cheered as he stared at the sent message. What she didn’t know was that the message had immediately been read.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nino cringed. Now it was bound to be obvious he had already been waiting around in Adrien’s messages. He could joke about the coincidence that they texted at the same time, and while that would be true, he wouldn’t have an answer if Adrien asked him what he was going to say. Otherwise, it was a relief that Adrien had texted him first, even though it left him with no excuse as to how he read the message so quickly.

He drummed his fingers against the table. This was an important moment. The way he answered Adrien’s text was life or death. It had to be careful, strategic, witty, and suave. Nino leaned his head back on his chair and closed his eyes, taking in the melody and rhythm that pounded through his headphones. Opening his eyes, he tapped away on his phone. He crafted the message with delicate passion, his words were specific, his emojis and capitalization were analyzed for tone, and his thoughts were truthfully wrapped into one perfect sentence.

im free tonight - 1:10 PM

Nino smacked his forehead. Could he sound any more desperate? He didn’t even bother to throw in a joke, or question Adrien’s intentions, he just jumped for the opportunity like some sort of… Nino glanced at the water bottle on his desk and chugged it.

He took a deep breath. Everything was going to be fine. It was a Friday afternoon, everyone was free on Friday nights. All he had to do was wait for a response. His message had been read, Adrien was probably thinking up a response. It could be a startled response, a mocking response, or a great response! So his chances were one out of three… or one out of all the millions of terrible reactions he could think of. But Adrien wouldn’t do that, he was sweet enough to give anyone cavities just by looking at him. Clearly, Nino was overreacting. It had only been three agonizing minutes.

He just had to put his phone down and mind something else. Just wait casually… patiently. Adrien would answer.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Adrien wasn’t going to answer. At least, not yet. He wanted to check something to decide on his answer. Call it cheating, but Chat Noir decided to excuse himself through Alya’s balcony and said he’d be back in a minute.

“This isn’t stalking or anything,” Chat Noir muttered to himself as he crouched on the rooftop across from Nino’s bedroom, “just some guy in a black bodysuit hiding behind a chimney.”

He opened his baton, pointed the camera to Nino’s window, and zoomed in. “But this is Chat Noir! A superhero, doing his superhero duties,” he continued, “and he just so happens to be on the roof next to Nino Lahiffe’s house, and out of pure coincidence has his camera pointed in the direction of a bedroom window.”

It was going to be quick. He didn’t mean to invade on Nino’s privacy, he just needed answers. He watched Nino mess with some software on his computer, occasionally glancing at his phone. If Chat Noir didn’t know any better, Nino looked a bit impatient. He could be waiting for a response, ‘tonight’ was only a few hours from now after all.

Chat reached into his pocket and pulled out his personal phone.

Adrien: Ok! How about I meet up with you at 6? - 1:18 PM

Chat blushed and giggled into his hand.

Nino: sure, are we talkin the dupain-cheng bakery again? - 1:18 PM

Chat Noir thought for a moment. If he was being honest, he wasn’t even sure what the challenge was meant to be at this point, but he had gotten this far. Maybe it was time to be a little more blunt.

Adrien: Actually, I think I’m in the mood for a full meal, if you’re up for that? 1:19 PM

Nino: cool :D does this mean youre picking me up? 1:20 PM

Adrien: Yup ;3 1:20 PM

Nino: stop that what are you doing 1:20 PM

Adrien: ;3 ;3 ;3 1:21 PM

Nino: no. 1:22 PM

By the time he’d returned his phone to his pocket, Chat was grinning ear to ear. He saw Nino set his phone on his desk and pump his fist. Chat blushed, maybe there was a chance. Chat’s phone buzzed and he reached for it excitedly.

Alya: you’d better not be doing what i think you’re doing 1:25 PM

Adrien: Depends what you think I’m doing 1:25 PM

Alya: adrien wtf 1:26 PM

Adrien: Alright alright I’m leaving 1:28 PM

* * *

“If they serve camembert you’ll pass it all to me, right?” Plagg whispered from the pocket of Adrien’s black chino pants.

“Sshh, this isn’t the time,” Adrien rung Nino’s doorbell.

The door opened and Nino came out wearing a navy blue cardigan blue polo shirt. “Hey…”

“...hi.”

They stared at each other, waiting for a joke or cocky remark. Neither of them understood how they had gotten this far without having to make something up about whatever pastry battle they had started the day before. And now that they were about to go to a sit-down restaurant, that excuse was less likely to work.

“So, uh, we should-”

“Right, yeah, lead the way.”

“My chauffeur parked the car is over there…”

There wasn’t much talking on the ride to the restaurant. Both boys sat with their hands clasped together, peeking over every now and then. The silence was the kind that made one consider jumping out of a moving car, but the excitement kept them both sitting beside each other, silently accepting the direction the evening was going.

Gorilla dropped them by the entrance of the restaurant. Adrien and Nino chose to ignore the small smirk on Gorilla’s face as they slid out of their doors. After he drove off, they tried to relax a little.

“Well,” Adrien turned to Nino as he rested his hand on the front door, “in here, we fight like men.”

“Please, yesterday was more of a default win, you haven’t really faced me yet.”

“Fine, then. Whoever steals the most from the other’s plate wins.”

Nino snickered, “I swear to God if we get kicked out for being too messy and loud…”

“That’s the challenge, don’t break too much etiquette,” Adrien opened the door, letting Nino step in first.

Nino cleared his throat. “I see, dragging me into a battleground you have an advantage in.”

“Can’t handle it?”

“I never said that.”

It was nice to be out of that stuffy car. They sat down across from each other when the waitress led them to a table for two, smug smiles on their faces. The waitress seemed a bit confused when they thanked her without breaking fierce eye contact, and possibly a bit concerned. Regardless, she set their waters on the table and left, only glancing back at them three times. As if scripted, they both lifted their menus and didn’t break their gaze until the paper blocked their vision.

“I hope you pick something I like,” Nino called from behind the list of appetizers.

Something caught Adrien’s eye. “Same to you, just please don’t get the croquettes.”

Nino stared at the option for croquettes. “I wouldn’t think of it. As long as you don’t order any quiche.”

“No onion soup.”

Nino set his menu on the table. “Deal. And don’t even think about roasted asparagus. I’m ready to order.”

“What a coincidence,” Adrien stacked his on top, “so am I.”

They continued to watch each other closely. Nino’s eyes trailed to Adrien’s slim-fitting sweatshirt, then back to his eyes. Adrien’s eyes flicked down when Nino licked his lips.

Their eyes burned into each other, it must’ve been the competitive spirit.

“Are you two lovebirds ready to order?”

Adrien and Nino started into a loud coughing fit. Reaching for their waters they hoped to drown the blood that was rising to their cheeks.

“U-uhm, yes, actually,” Adrien put on a pretty smile for the waitress.

“Great!” she pulled out her notepad.

Adrien handed her the menus. “I’d like some quiche with a side of roasted asparagus.”

“And I’ll take onion soup with potato croquettes.”

“Alrighty, I’ll be back with your orders,” the waitress turned and left.

Nino tilted his head. “Good luck with your etiquette when you try to steal soup .”

“And good luck to you when you bring oily asparagus over this nice tablecloth.”

“So is this your secret to dieting?” Nino leaned forward, “you keep losing these types of games?”

Adrien swallowed loudly. “You’re… actually the first person I-I’ve, uh, done this with.”

“ Oh ,” Nino paused carefully, “you made it seem like it was something you were used to.”

“I just wanted to seem natural, but- this probably sounds inappropriate to anyone listening...” Adrien lowered his head shyly.

Nino laughed. “Only if you take it that way. I guess we’ve started our own tradition then.”

Adrien nodded and smiled.

They continued to chat until the waitress finally returned with a tray. “Here you go, thanks for waiting!”

They thanked her as she left and then turned to the plates in front of them. Adrien took a bite of his quiche and Nino popped a croquette into his mouth. They hummed in satisfaction before lunging their utensils towards the other’s plate. Adrien captured two croquettes while Nino took the biggest forkful of quiche he could manage. They scarfed down on their first victories before they continued. Back and forth, they proceeded to snatch more from across the table, each time trying to take twice as much.

Adrien eyed the onion soup. While Nino was busy scraping a huge piece of quiche onto his knife, Adrien grabbed the bowl and slid it over to his side of the table. Without even blinking, Nino did the same to the plate of quiche. They started to dig into the meal they had really wanted from the beginning.

“You know…” Adrien stirred his soup, “It’s almost like… we’re dating.”

“That’s crazy, dude.”

Adrien looked up at Nino, eyebrows furrowed in worry. “Huh?”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking!” Nino bit down on his empty fork, a toothy smile spreading across his face.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I mean, even the waitress thought so…”

“... Maybe the waitress knows something we don’t.”

Nino was quiet for a moment. He studied Adrien’s face. “Can I be honest?”

Adrien nodded silently.

“I didn’t really mind the idea of it. Actually, I liked it.”

Adrien bit his lip. “You really mean it?”

“Yeah. I’ve wanted to ask you out before even, that’s the real reason I came today.”

“Holy-” Adrien raised his hands to his temples, “kissing you right now would be breaking etiquette, wouldn’t it? And then we’d both lose.”

Nino smiled and reached for Adrien’s hand, peering up for permission. When Adrien approved with wide eyes, Nino lifted his knuckles to his lips. “What happens if we win?” His spoke against Adrien’s skin.

Adrien shivered. “Another date?”

“Date… ok, then, we have no choice but to win.”

“But, you know, we don’t need etiquette if we just leave. We could always just skip dessert.”

Nino raised his hand to call a waiter over. “I think you mean skip to the dessert. Looks, like you’re on for round three.”

-----------------------------

wow, Nino, 'dessert' huh? I should've called this the thirst games. Adrien's flirt game can get reKt

Please review! Hope you liked it, and if you're inspired to doodle please tell me I'd love to see <3

#miraculous ladybug #ml fanfic #adrien agreste #nino lahiffe #adrino #fluff #cass writes

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