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ahtsumu · 4 years ago

Text

long shots ; miya osamu

pairing: miya osamu x f!reader

synopsis: miya osamu is the teacher’s assistant for food chemistry i. you can’t stop thinking about him.

tag(s): college!au, slow burn, TA!miya osamu, grad student!reader, fluff, reader is a go-getter!! ; warning(s): profanity, suggestive themes, talk of insecurities and imposter syndrome ; wc: 5.6k

a/n: happy birthday to @starrysamu! i love u. pls excuse any errors. i’ll weed them out later! btw this fic is not a sugar daddy au LOL

HIS NAME IS Miya Osamu and he always looks like he has it all figured out. Comes in every class with his black hair perfectly tousled, the sleeves of his dark button-up rolled to his elbows, a cup of coffee in one hand and the strap of that black messenger bag in another.

“He drives a BMW, did ya know?” Isla says in your ear one morning. Your only friend in Food Chemistry I gives you a pointed look before sitting back in her chair in the lecture hall with a smirk on her face. “Saw it this morning. Bet he’s loaded.” The two of you watch the subject in question walk across the classroom and settle in his seat at the table in the corner.

“Shut up,” you whisper with wide eyes. A grin–– far from innocent–– makes its way onto your face. “Imagine being Miya Osamu’s sugar baby.”

“He’s not old enough to be a sugar daddy.” Isla looks at her nails disinterestedly. “And that’s too many AUs in one. He’s already the TA, for god’s sake. This isn’t some shitty Wattpad novel.”

A light giggle slips out of your lips. “I can see the title already. My Sugar Daddy is the TA?!”

Now, if anyone had been listening in on your conversation, they would’ve assumed many things about you. The first being that you’re both gold-diggers. This is untrue–– at least, in your case. Isla, you’re not so sure about, given how your friendship only goes back about one month. But she tags you in memes on Instagram so maybe it’s as real as real gets. Their second assumption would be that you have a big fat crush on your TA. That one’s complicated, mostly because it’s true, but only kinda. It all started in the second week of school when Isla caught you staring at Osamu and slipped you a post-it note with both your initials encircled in a heart. And, because you’re shameless with a good sense of humour, you made a show of kissing it while she was looking. And thus began your meaningless but incredibly entertaining, satirical, co-written fantasy about Miya Osamu.

It also didn’t help that on the first essay you got back, Isla’s paper had been marked up with “are you sure?”s and “this is a jump”s, while yours had “excellent reasoning” and “insightful analysis”. You’d even gotten a little comment at the bottom: y/n, fantastic work. you should speak up in class more often. –– OM

But Miya Osamu doesn’t play favourites because the next week you’d gotten another essay back, this time with another comment at the bottom: y/n, not your best work. you could’ve done better by connecting your first paragraph with the second using grant’s reading. conclusion lacked punch, too. all the best. –– OM

Every time you’d read the words scrawled in blue ink, you’d felt a pair of eyes on you. But you chalk it up to Osamu being a careful grader. A good TA. Someone who cares about his students.

Isla calls bullshit on that. You’re not really sure how to feel about her stance.

The classroom door opens and shuts again. You don’t have to look at your phone to know that it’s nine on the dot. Instead, you and Isla straighten your backs, pull out your notebooks, and focus. Your no-nonsense professor says “good morning” in her usual perky manner before jumping right into her keynote presentation.

“Did you all find the reading okay?” Professor Lee asks an hour into the lecture.

A chorus of “yes”s fill the air. You bite your lip, wondering if revealing that you didn’t understand shit will out you as the class idiot. Or maybe your silence is telling enough–– maybe the people in the seats beside you have noticed the grimace on your face and are having thoughts like ‘gee whiz, am I glad I’m not dumb like her’. Heat rushes to your cheeks. Sometimes you really wonder if you’re smart enough to be here. Occurrences like these do nothing to dispel your insecurities.

You vaguely hear her ask something like, “Any thoughts about the reading?” It’s not that you’re actually dumb. It’s just that this class is ridiculously hard for an introductory course, even for a graduate programme. From the start of the semester til now, fifteen people have dropped the class. There’s just twenty of you left. Guess a ridiculously hot TA can’t save a course’s drop-rate.

Before you can make your mind up on what to say, your professor moves on from her question.

As you look off to the side of the room for a break from your thoughts, you find a pair of blue-grey eyes pointed in your direction.

Everything about you, from the expression on your face to the way your muscles tense, makes you look like a deer caught in headlights–– even though he was the one caught staring in the first place. So maybe your shamelessness works on a scale.

Miya Osamu lifts one corner of his mouth.

And as if the exchange hadn’t happened at all, he looks back down at his laptop and continues typing.

The rest of the lecture goes through one ear and out the other.

“Everyone, I believe Osamu has something he wants to say,” Professor Lee says as everyone begins packing their bags.

The raven-haired TA slides out of his seat and sits on top of his desk. “Yeah.” Osamu clears his throat and crosses his arms over his chest. You notice how the muscles in his arms bulge from the movement.

“Whipped,” Isla mutters, grinning mischievously.

“Him for me,” you whisper back, though your eyes do travel back to his face where they should’ve been all along. Osamu catches your gaze and holds it. And then he looks away again.

“Now, I know you’re all Nobel prizewinners in the making,” he begins, garnering a round of snickers and giggles from your classmates. Most people say that cliques dissolve in college. That there’s no such thing as popularity amongst graduate students. That much, you agree with. But no one ever said anything about popular teacher’s assistants. Especially smart, attractive, witty teacher’s assistants like Miya Osamu. “But in case you didn’t understand the reading or would like to develop a deeper understanding of it, don’t hesitate to email me. I’ll try to host a review session all of us can attend.”

Professor Lee smiles appreciatively at Osamu, adding, “That’s a wonderful idea, Osamu. Guys, please take this opportunity if you struggled with the reading. I know eighty pages is a lot, but our next three classes are structured around the concepts in the reading and the mid-term next week will almost exclusively be about it, too.”

Well, shit.

To: [email protected]

Hi Osamu,

I was wondering if I could get some help with the reading from last class. To be frank, I couldn’t make it past page 15 and I’m lost like a snot-faced five-year-old in a shopping mall on Black Friday. Sorry. Thanks in advance!

Regretfully,

Y/N

MS Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

From: [email protected]

no problem. is 5 pm tomorrow at jack’s okay? we start on the concepts from the reading next class so i want to get you up to speed asap. let me know. thanks.

PhD Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

It’s five minutes to five when you pull into the parking lot of Jack’s Diner. The shiny, retrofuturistic eatery is a university favourite but the empty parking lot tells you it’s completely deserted right now (and rightfully so–– who eats dinner before six?). The black BMW parked a few spots from your car, however, says that you’re not alone.

Osamu’s figure comes into view as you reach for the handle to the front door of Jack’s. The twenty-six-year-old sits by himself at one of the bright red tables in the back, typing away on his dark grey laptop.

His head lifts up at the sound of the opening door. Osamu calls out your name and waves you over.

“Hi,” you greet with a smile, sitting down across from him.

“Hey.”

You look around before leaning forward on the table. “Is anyone else coming?”

“No.” Osamu sits back in his seat. “I thought about hosting one big group, but then I realised that it’d probably be stressful for the staff here.” He nods his head in the direction of the kitchen. “And I had a hunch that everyone would have different questions. Forcing everyone to review concepts they already know is a waste of time.”

At first, you nod. That makes sense. But then you furrow your brows. “So how long have you been here?”

Osamu blinks. He hadn’t expected you to ask about him. “Hmm? Oh.” He taps his phone to check the time. “Just a while.”

Quirking a brow, you ask, “And how long is ‘a while’ to you?”

“Seven hours,” he admits, chuckling lightly when he sees your jaw drop. “A lot of people had questions. They just don’t act like they do. Anyway, time flies. Really, it does.” Quickly, he clears his throat and sits forward. “So, about your email.” He grins. “Not sure if you meant it to be funny, but it was.”

“I’m glad my distress was entertaining for you. Do you TA just to watch grad students suffer?”

“Perks of the job,” Osamu says. His grin widens when you giggle. He’s never heard you laugh before and he realises at that moment that it’s really nice. And then that same grin falters. Gracefully, of course, and imperceptibly to you. But not to him. Is it okay for him to be… thinking things like that? About a student? But you’re not really his student since he’s just the TA. Right? Osamu ignores the weird feeling that comes over him and clasps his hands together at the edge of his laptop. “Back to your email. Can ya tell me what you’re confused about?”

Three hours and two Impossible Burgers later, you suddenly understand everything about food molecules so well that you wonder why you’d even been confused in the first place. But besides that, you’ve also picked up things about Osamu. As a person and not an idea. Not that you’d been actively searching for fun facts about your TA. But they’d stuck to your brain like gum at the bottom of a desk. He likes to slip sarcastic quips into a conversation every now and then. Eats burgers upside down (“The right way,” as he’d said, smirking). Is friendlier than he looks.

“You’re really good at explaining things,” you comment as Osamu shuts his laptop closed.

“Well, I kinda have to be,” he says. And maybe it’s the mental fatigue catching up on him or the fact that he’s real fond of the reason why he can break big concepts down into morsels but suddenly, the rest of his thoughts spill out his mouth like wine. “I have a twin brother with potato salad for brains.”

“Oh?”

And before he can stop himself, he tells you about Miya Atsumu, the pro-athlete you’ve definitely heard of but never gave too much thought. And then you hold onto the fact that they were both on the volleyball team and you ask of which school, so then he tells you about Inarizaki, the high school he attended, and then his decision not to go pro to go to college, and then––

“Sorry,” he laughs, cheeks turning pink. “You probably didn’t need to hear all that.”

“No, it’s fine,” you say–– and you mean it. “Your life is interesting.”

Osamu leans back in his chair. “Well, I’m sure yours is, too.” He holds your gaze like it’s the key to your presence. It’s an invitation. The kind that comes from people who don’t really know if they want you around but also don’t want you gone.

You take it.

Osamu shouldn’t–– he really shouldn’t–– but he wonders about the things you didn’t tell him the entire drive home.

Isla laughs when you tell her about what happened at Jack’s. You lay in bed with your phone next to you on speaker, your face turned on your pillow so that you’re staring out the window at the city below.

“He wants you,” she sings.

“Or he was just being nice.”

“Methinks not!” Isla giggles. “He’s intrigued, girl! You’re like that cute little new mystery in his life and he just wants to get to know you.”

“I think he was just being polite.”

“Or he’s crushing on you!”

“In your dreams.”

“You mean yours? Boo, you’re no fun today. Usually, you go along with the jokes.” Isla’s tone is playful on the surface but full of implications.

A few silent seconds pass. Yeah, you think, agreeing. I do.

“Girl,” Isla drags out the word in a high pitch, saying it like a scientist says ‘eureka’. “You’re not playing along anymore because it’s real now. You're actually catching feelings!”

“Am not!” you laugh.

“The Y/N I knew would’ve said ‘nah, bitch, he’s catching feelings’ and I think that says all there is to say.”

“Okay, I think he’s cute but it’s not a crush,” you concede, grinning. “And he’s the TA, Isles. It’d never happen.”

“Not while he’s still a TA in a class you take.”

“Isla.”

“Ask him out once this semester ends! Unless you’re chicken.”

“I’m not asking him out.”

“Knew you were––”

“Have you seen me? He’s asking me out.”

Miya Osamu walks through the door at eight-fifty as usual that next morning, dressed in his usual button-up, holding his usual cup of coffee. But this time, as the rest of his tall frame passes through the doorway, Osamu’s eyes subtly scan the faces in the lecture hall, lingering for just a while over yours. The corners of your lips turn up. You hope he saw that.

“Bitch!” Isla whisper-screams. The students sitting around you turn around at the noise and grin at each other when they realise it’s just Isla being… well, Isla. She shoos them away jokingly.

“What?” you whisper back.

“Care to explain why our TA was literally eye-fucking you?”

“That was hardly eye-fucking,” you retort. “Maybe like an eye-handshake.”

“Yeah, a naked eye-handshake where his thang is handshaking your––”

He does it again the next class.

And the next.

And then he doesn’t. Miya Osamu walks through the door to Food Chemistry I at eight-fifty in the morning in a navy blue button-up with a cup of coffee in his hand and looks through the rows of seats in the lecture hall for your face, only to find it missing.

He debates pressing the matter.

To: [email protected]

hey osamu,

i wasn’t in class today because i’ve been sick with the flu (no big deal, just feel like i’m dying). a classmate sent me pictures of the slides from today so i think i should be fine, but is it okay if i email you with any questions? thank you very much!

miserably,

Y/N

MS Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

From: [email protected]

y/n,

of course. sorry to hear that you’re sick. let me know if i can do anything to help you. the midterm is next week. get well soon.

PhD Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

“You writing that the midterm is next week did not offer me any peace of mind, by the way,” you say, spinning around in your chair as Miya Osamu enters your pod in the library.

He offers you a wry grin. “Hello to ya, too.”

“Was that an accent?” You thought you’d heard one at Jack’s, but you couldn’t be sure because it’d been so spotty.

Osamu slips into the seat beside yours and pulls out the laptop in his messenger bag. You catch a whiff of his cologne–– something spicy and woody, but clean. It suits him. “Nice catch. Yeah, I speak a regional dialect. Took me a while to smooth it over but it still resurfaces every now and then.”

“Why?”

“It just didn’t seem fitting for a PhD candidate, I guess,” Osamu explains, opening the slides from the class you missed. A day after your initial exchange, you’d emailed him again (with a much clearer mind) and asked if he could go over the slides with you in person.

i literally feel like i’ve been given the homework from russian lit, you’d written. except the russian has been translated to hieroglyphs and my task is to choreograph an interpretive dance based on the hieroglyphs.

Osamu had snickered when he saw your email. that doesn’t even make sense. must be the fever talking, he’d been tempted to write. But that strange feeling had come over him again, the one that’d screamed at him to keep it professional, goddamnit, so he’d played it safe instead and sent is eight pm at the main library okay? He hates that you’re getting a watered-down version of his personality. Osamu swears he’s a lot more interesting when he’s not, well, a TA.

“I think it’s fine,” you say, smiling. “I like it. It’s you.” And suddenly, you’re wondering if it’s okay to be complimenting your TA. If it’s okay to say that you like things about him, or if that crosses some grey, unclear line. Is it weird to treat your TAs like they’re your friends? It’s not like TAs are real teachers. Right?

A grin–– wide and genuine and almost excited–– grows on Osamu’s face. He rubs the back of his neck as his eyes flit over to the laptop screen. “Thanks. Really.”

You nod. But you feel like there’s more that he might want to say, so you wait.

“I got a lot of shit for it when I came here for my master’s, y’know. Not to my face, of course, but people would refer to me as ‘the guy with the accent’. A professor once said it made me seem crass. Said it’d hold me back in my career.”

“So you changed.”

“Adapted,” Osamu corrects. “It’s hard to admit but conforming is sometimes all you can do when you don’t have the power to change the system. Can’t really make everyone suddenly respect a dialect.”

“And after you’re finished with your PhD, you’ll go back to speaking in that dialect?”

Osamu looks out the window and smiles, probably imagining the plans he’s already made about the future. “Yeah.”

“What if you have to speak the standard language at your job? Like, your boss is all, ‘hey man, if you don’t speak––”’

“I’ll be the boss.”

“Oh?��

And with a little more prodding, Miya Osamu tells you about the restaurant chain he plans on opening after graduation, the slides about food additives left completely untouched.

The librarian knocks on your pod a few minutes before eleven to tell you they’re closing.

“Shit,” Osamu murmurs, running his hands through his hair. You’re still laughing about something he’d said before the librarian interrupted him–– one of his stories from high school–– and he thinks that you’ve completely forgotten that the reason you came to the library was to catch up on the material you were already behind on. And now you’re behind on that. But you look so carefree right now and, actually, you’re very pretty and you’ve got such a good heart and it’s a lot for him to process but he knows he just wants to see you happy a while longer. So Osamu just slumps back in his chair and laughs along with you.

He says your name as his chuckles grow softer. “It’s pretty late. How’re you getting home?”

“I’ve a bike,” you reply. It’s good for the environment and is a pretty solid form of exercise if you do say so yourself. Sometimes you just don’t feel like driving.

Osamu presses his lips in a thin line. Would it be too much to offer you a ride? “I can drive you home. It’s really not safe for you to be alone outside, especially near midnight. You can get your bike tomorrow. Or I’ll get it for you.”

He drives fast. Not the unsafe fast that speed demons drive at, but the kind of fast where you know he’s got some edge to his character. You bring it up to him–– especially since it’s nighttime, for god’s sake, he could hit something–– and all he does is remind you how there are lamps as bright as the sun lining the entire road to your dorm. And the fact that you live in the least accessible dorm on campus.

“A twenty-minute drive?” he’d exclaimed when he saw the GPS monitor.

“A bunch of roads are closed for construction. It’s a ten-minute bike-ride because I can cut through campus.” And suddenly feeling a little burdensome, you’d added, “Sorry. I can still bike––”

“No.” He’d held his hand out in front of you, gesturing for you to stay in the passenger’s seat. “It’s not a bother at all.” Because it wasn’t. Osamu was… happy. Not that he’d admit that.

“So this BMW,” you start in a teasing tone.

Osamu smirks. “A gift.”

“Can I guess from who?”

“Sure.”

“Atsumu.”

His brows rise. “Colour me impressed.” He hadn’t expected you to remember anything he’d said about Atsumu. Or maybe he had but told himself otherwise to lower his hopes.

“I’m smart like that.”

He snorts. “Not if you keep distracting me and using your review time to…” hang out with me, get to know me, tell me things about you… “…goof off.”

You grimace. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

Osamu makes a turn down a familiar street. It dawns upon you that you're ten minutes away from your dorm and suddenly you wish he’d just make the wrong turn at the next intersection so that you could talk to him some more. It can even be about the health benefits of fish or the molecular makeup of kale–– you don’t mind. You just want to be around him longer.

“I think you’re really smart,” Osamu says quietly. “I think you’re not processing the readings because you’re distracted, or just not fully applying yourself. Obviously, last class’s slides are a different thing, since you were absent. But you really are smart. I’ve seen your papers.”

You bite your lip to hide your grin, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. “Thank you.” You look out the window, too jacked on dopamine to think straight. “I think I still need you, though.”

And that innocuous little sentence floats right out your mouth into the air, settling between you like a little wedge before either of you even realise it. Neither of you says anything. You marinate in the awkwardness before stuttering out a clarification. “To, um, to explain things. Y’know, since you’re, uh, so good at… explaining things.”

Osamu clears his throat and chuckles stiffly. There’s a slightly pink tinge to his cheeks. “Thanks,” he says, looking straight ahead. He can’t even look at you. Fuck. It’s so awkward. “I’ll try to keep… explaining things.” Fuck. What does that even mean?

A few uncomfortable minutes pass in silence. The night can’t end like this, you think. It can’t when everything else had gone so well. You still have to see him for a few more months. “Did you know,” you start, catching Osamu’s attention, “that Jack’s Diner has a location in Italy?”

“Oh?” he asks, making the final turn to the street where your dorm is. He actually hadn’t.

“Yeah. I asked the owner about the chain a while back. Have you ever been to Italy?”

Osamu shakes his head. “I’ve been to Paris, though. To see a friend. He’s a chocolatier.”

Now, if Osamu had been your friend, you would’ve said something like well, let’s go to Italy together, except he’s not. He’s your TA and you’ve been reminded that enough tonight. So instead, you say, “When you open that restaurant of yours in Italy, let me know.”

“That’s gonna take a while,” he laughs. He appreciates how you said ‘when��, though. And he tucks that little bit of confidence you have in him somewhere deep in his mind so that it doesn’t get lost.

“Isn’t that just seven hours?” you shrug, grinning. Osamu’s BMW pulls up outside your dorm and parks as he marvels at what you just said. You’re amazing. You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to face your driver.

“Thank you for driving me,” you say, offering him a smile.

“Yeah,” he replies.

You stretch out your hand. With a puzzled look on his face, Osamu grabs it and shakes it. Firmly. You can’t help but notice how nice his hands are. Calloused for sure, but they feel nice.

“Goodnight, Osamu.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

He watches you jog into the building before driving away. And it’s like you’ve possessed his car or something because the smell of your shampoo and perfume is everywhere and it’s too much but it’s also not enough at the same time and he can feel your palm against his as he spins the steering wheel to make a turn and for the first time in his life he doesn’t turn on the radio to fill the silence in his car. Osamu replays everything you said in his head.

But he especially thinks about that part where you said you need him.

Weeks melt into months. You turn in essays after essays for Food Chemistry I, each coming back with detailed commentary in an all-too-familiar blue scrawl. All your other classes go well–– extremely well, actually. You might just end the semester with a 4.0 if Food Chem doesn’t fuck you over. Isla still tags you in memes on Instagram. You still tell her about everything that happens with Osamu.

Speaking of.

“That’s the wrong equation,” he says behind your ear as he settles in the seat beside you. The sound of his low voice so close to your ear sends a small shiver down your spine. “You gotta switch the hydrogens.” Osamu knocks on your skull lightly. “What’s goin’ on up in there? Ya got somethin’ on your mind?”

You laugh and elbow him in the side. “Shut up, ‘Samu.” He’d told you during one of his office hours that he’d gone by that nickname because he had a teammate with a foreign name in high school. It sounded so cool, he’d said, grinning.

I think Osamu sounds pretty cool already, you’d teased.

And he’d replied, Let’s trade. I like yours, you like mine, why not share?

You teeter on the line between friends and less-than-friends and, oddly enough, more-than-friends. Sometimes you still play it safe. Sometimes he pauses between texts and real-time conversations, no doubt to scrap an instinctive reply for something more “professional”. Sometimes you say things that make him look at you with the ghost of a smile at the corners of his lips. Sometimes he calls Atsumu to scream about you.

“S’not a no,” Osamu points out. He’s dressed in a black sweater and grey trousers today. You’re suddenly reminded of how the weather’s been getting colder when someone opens the door to the university café and lets in a gust of chilly autumn air.

“Okay,” you admit, setting down the pencil. “I just… don’t really feel prepared for this next test.”

Osamu frowns and looks down at your worksheet. “Your process is correct, though.”

“Right, but… I don’t know. I’ve just not been feeling great about myself lately,” you laugh, looking down at your feet. “Food Chem’s the toughest class I’ve ever taken. And remember how I completely embarrassed myself in that class discussion last week? It’s not really making me feel like I belong here.”

“Imposter syndrome,” Osamu remarks.

“Correct-o.”

He says your name softly and puts a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Maybe you’re not the smartest, but you’re definitely smart. And you belong here. I’ve seen your papers. They’re just as great as anyone else’s and I don’t hand out compliments for nothin’. You’re gonna do some great things but ya can’t improve if you ever give up.” Osamu searches your eyes for a sign of your understanding.

There’re a lot of things you want to say but you don’t know how to put them into words. “Can I hug you?” you finally ask.

Osamu doesn’t even think about it. “Of course.”

He feels you smile against his chest and wonders if you can feel his heart beat faster.

Isla camps out in your dorm as finals come around the corner.

“I don’t understand shit!” she wails, throwing her notebook into the air.

“Isles, it’s okay,” you laugh, slipping out of your chair and walking over to her nest in the corner. “You gotta chill, dude.”

“Not fair! I didn’t have a hunk holding my hand through this course all semester,” she retorts, humour glittering in her dark eyes. “I had the Organic Chemistry Tutor and his accent’s cute enough but, girl, you had Miya Fucking Osamu!”

“You’re literally the worst.” You giggle and sit down beside her. “Tell me what you’re confused about. I’ll try to explain it to you.” The way Osamu does.

You text him that you’d channelled his brains later that night.

His reply comes seconds later. all you, einstein.

From: osamu

good luck on the exam

you’re going to kill it

To: osamu

would u like to divulge any… information about it? 😏 😏 😏

From: osamu

bye

To: osamu

i was kidding :(

From: osamu

fine. tip #1: write your name

To: osamu

not very helpful. 0/10

From: osamu

keep running your mouth and 0/10 is what your score’s going to be

i’m kidding

you got this, y/n

“Holy fuck,” Isla groans as you cross the street to head to lunch at Jack’s. “If you don’t see me next semester it’s because I’ve gotten my grade back and decided to drop out.”

“What would you do?” you ask, amused.

“Maybe move to New Zealand. Raise some sheep. Marry a hot, blond shepherd and fuck off to a cliffside cottage.”

“Solid plan.”

“What about you?” she asks.

“What about me?”

“Remember that conversation we had at the start of the year? About your man?” The two of you reach another red light for pedestrians.

“We’re friends. He’s not my man,” you laugh. Though it pains you to. Something about being Miya Osamu’s friend doesn’t really sit right with you, but you don’t know how to not be his friend. You don’t know how to move out of the corner you’ve backed yourself into.

“But you wish he were! And now you can finally hit him with that ‘Hey, Osamu, I’ve been madly in love with you since the start of the semester, wanna fuck like rabbits and then open that store in Italy?’ and he’ll be all––”

A throat clears behind you. With wide eyes, the two of you turn around.

Holy fuck.

Miya Osamu stands behind you with his hands in his pockets and an enormous smirk on his face.

“He’ll be all what?” he asks, eyes fixed on you.

Isla murmurs an excuse and starts walking on her own to Jack’s.

“Um.” You swallow nervously and shrink in your coat. “You heard all of that, right?”

“Yep.” Osamu grins. He grins. He’s grinning. He’s smiling like he’s won the fucking lottery and you honestly don’t know what to do with that information.

“So, like,” you look down at the sidewalk and kick at a pebble, “what are your thoughts about that?” God, you could die. “‘Cause I know you’re a TA and it’d probably look pretty bad and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you because I like you and it’s cool if we just…”

Osamu interrupts you with a laugh. “My thoughts,” he says, “are that I want to kiss you.” His fingers lift your chin up. “What are your thoughts about that?”

Well, shit. “I think that’s pretty cool, yeah,” you breathe, eyelids fluttering shut as his face comes closer to yours.

He tastes like mint. And his lips move softly, slowly against yours like he’s savouring the moment. And then you feel his hands snake around your waist to pull you closer–– closer because you both are tired of forcing the distance between bodies that want to be near each other, closer because he’s thought about kissing you just like this for so long, closer because you remember the last time he’d touched you was three days ago and it was just a brush of his fingers against your arm and that feeling of wanting more haunted you for the entire night. But holy shit, Miya Osamu is kissing you. He’s kissing you.

And then he pulls away. His dark eyes flit over yours. “I,” he breathes, “I need your course load next semester.”

“What?” you ask, disbelief written all over your features, chest rising and falling as you try to steady your breathing. You just kissed, for God's sake, and he's––

“I need to know which courses not to apply to TA for,” he grins, cupping your face in his hands. “Can’t be teachin’ in a class with my girlfriend as a student.”

“So we’re official?” you ask, beaming.

“If you want,” Osamu replies with a smirk.

You grab the front of his coat and tug him down for another kiss. “Hell yeah, I want to be official.”

#miya osamu #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu scenarios #miya osamu imagines

1K notes · View notes

strawberrymilkgeorge · 4 years ago

Text

Part Fourteen. There's No Way.

word count: 5k (not including pictures) warnings: swearing

behind the screen (irl dream x f!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

a/n: yeeeeee very excited about this chapter!! we're getting so close to some good stuff!!!! hope you like it!!! (also, if you understand the reference to bug’s second tweet about mr clean, you’re a real one)

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Y/n laughed as she tucked her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on top as she stared at her computer monitor. "Yeah, okay, Gogy."

Quackity's laugh sounded through her headphones, cackling loudly and gasping for air as George defended himself in their voice channel. None of them were streaming, which allowed them to tease each other relentlessly without worrying about leaking real things. Currently, the target of the teasing was Y/n. Her guilty crime: Dream’s nickname for her. "She got his ass!"

"Oh shut up, Big Q," Y/n quickly spat back. "At least neither of us has a nickname that lies about our size. Short boy."

Quackity stopped laughing and pulled out his defensive card. "Okay, that's literally not funny. That's messed up of you to say, actually."

"Waaah," Y/n mocked.

"Okay, Bugsy, but no one seriously calls me Gogy, it's just as a joke," George defended himself. "I was only saying that I think it's cute how Dream calls you Bug!"

"Shut up," she mumbled with embarrassment. She loved the nickname and especially how everyone seemed to agree it was reserved for him. She wondered if he noticed that too, how everyone else, including most fans, called her Bugsy, leaving Dream as the only online friend who used the nickname.

"She's embarrassed," Quackity giggled. "Awww. Is the Buggy Wuggy embarrassed of having a crush?"

“I don’t have a crush,” she lied convincingly.

“You better not. The title of your affection deservingly goes to me,” he said proudly, as if there was any shred of truth in his words.

“Get over yourself, Quackity,” George laughed, “before Dream tells you off again about being too short for Bugsy.”

“HEY!”

"I'm back," Sapnap announced as he unmuted in Discord. "What did I miss?"

"They're still bullying me," Y/n exaggerated.

“No, they’re bullying me!” Quackity scoffed.

“Sapnap, make them stop,” Y/n begged playfully. Usually Sapnap was on her side.

"It’s for a good reason though," Sapnap teased. "I mean, we'll stop bullying you if you admit to liking him," he lowered his voice slightly, probably since he lived in the same house as the man they were talking about.

Y/n smiled to herself and hid it behind her hoodie sleeve as if they could see her anyway. She kinda liked that she hadn't told Quackity or Sapnap about her official crush, enjoying having a secret like that. Well, a secret that George, Karl, and Naomi knew too.

"Then I guess I'll be bullied until the day that I die," she sighed. She swore she heard George cover a laugh with a cough and she sent his icon a death glare. He seemed to enjoy knowing her secret a little too much.

"Is anyone going to actually stream today?" Sapnap asked. "I wanna do something."

"I'm thinking about doing Jackbox later," Quackity admitted. "Do you guys wanna join if I do?"

"Yes! Please," Sapnap whined. "I'm so bored."

"Sure, I'll play. Karl is spending the night so I can make him play too."

"Sleepover?" George asked. " Can I come?"

"Hm, no."

"That's messed up!"

"Can you join, George?" Quackity asked. "I need you in my title."

George hummed contemplatively and his voice turned mischievous, if only for a moment. "Yeah, if you get Dream to play."

Yeah, he definitely enjoyed knowing her secret too much.

"Right, you only play when your boyfriend plays too," Quackity groaned. "Cancel Dreamnotfound, I believe in Dreamsy supremacy."

"Says the man who asks me to marry him every day," Y/n scoffed.

"Actually, you're right! Bugity supremacy," he said.

"I swear it's become more frequent since I said you could flirt with me online again."

"It has, I'm making up for lost time."

Y/n rolled her eyes and Sapnap laughed. "I'll get Dream to play," Sapnap offered.

"So you'll play, George? I need you to commit," Quackity said.

"Yeah, why not," George agreed before adding with a giggle, "I wanna see Dream try to flirt with Bugsy."

"I hate you all,” specifically you, George, she thought. “I'm not playing anymore."

"NO, YOU ALREADY SAID YOU WOULD!" Quackity shouted.

"FINE," she groaned, a small laugh escaping her lips and completely exposing that she wasn't actually mad. "Speaking of Karl sleeping over, he's coming over in a bit so I'm gonna get off."

"Booo," Sapnap protested lightly. "Have fun with Karl."

"Let me know if he's going to play Jackbox with us. He better," Quackity threatened with no real substance.

"I'll make him," Y/n promised. "Bye guys!"

"Bye!" George and Sapnap shouted together before she disconnected the call.

Y/n stood up from her desk, stretching softly before looking around her room. She had a laundry basket in the corner, overflowing with clean, and now probably wrinkled, clothes waiting to be folded. She decided to use her time to clean up before Karl got there, even though they were probably going to sleep on the couches if at all.

She dumped the clean clothes onto her bed, tossing the things that needed to be hung to the side and neatly folded the rest. When she put her hoodies and sweaters on hangers, she noticed how much of her friends' merch she had. She had two GeorgeNotFound hoodies, a Sapnap shirt and hoodie, and even a Quackity hoodie. Karl didn't have any merch, but she did have a few of his personal hoodies that she had stolen from him over time and considered those her own exclusive merch, even though some of them had the Mr. Beast logo on them. She decided she needed Dream's merch.

For some unknown reason, perhaps it was because of how much she liked him, her face grew warm at the thought of wearing a Dream hoodie, even though it wouldn't have belonged to him. The idea made her nervous, like that would somehow give away that she had a crush on him if she bought some of his merch, even though she bought some of her friends' and even had Karl's actual hoodies. Despite the reasons that that was stupid of her to think, her brain said owning one Dream hoodie would be a dead giveaway of her crush, so she put off buying any. In reality, he'd probably laugh in his cute way when he heard that she bought one, or maybe go "whAT!" in surprise and happiness.

She desperately wanted to tell him things like that, tell him how happy his laugh made her and how adorable he was, or how she got butterflies every time he talked about anything at all. Since she couldn’t just call him up and tell him she hated stopped thinking about him, she decided to do something bold and subtweeted him, even adding a picture of herself with her face covered, hoping he would know it was about him, but that no one else would. She turned off comments for good measure, in case the stans made assumptions. Now that she threw away the "no flirting" rule for all her friends, she could do things like this. Worst case scenario is he thinks it’s weird, she tells him it was only a joke, and they go on their merry ways. Her heart would be broken, but nevertheless her ego would be somewhat saved. Harmless.

Nervously ― plagued with the thoughts of possible consequences of posting something so bold and, to her, so obvious — she made her way to the kitchen and got a glass of water. He would know it was about him, right? And that's what she wanted? It was so forward of her to say to the world, especially since she hadn't tagged him in it. Leaving it up to interpretation almost made it like she was trying to hide it from him, which wasn't the case or she wouldn't have hit, Tweet.

She waited for him to tweet something vague about her as a response, or maybe even text her, before realizing it had the potential to make him uncomfortable. Maybe he would pretend to not see it so he didn't embarrass her, or didn't even know it was about him. Or maybe he's asleep and hasn't been on his phone. She looked at her clock. Dream asleep at 3:30pm? Unlikely.

As Y/n fell on her bed, contemplating whether she should delete the post and pretend like it never happened, she felt her phone vibrate and quickly swiped the screen to read it.

Y/n had to literally set her phone down to scream into her pillow. He was killing her. Stabbing her in the heart and twisting the knife with his sweet compliments and smooth delivery. He had to know what he was doing, the way he was talking to her like that. No one said "prove it" in that context without having something more behind it.

Why couldn't he just like her? Why did he have to be so nice and flirty towards all his friends? Why couldn’t she be the exception?

She picked her phone back up and left the messaging app, finding her camera roll and swiping through it in search for something to catch her eye. Food pic, meme, Karl’s cat, meme, picture of Naomi nearly falling off a sidewalk... where were her pictures of her face? Did she really not have any of herself? The seemingly endless scrolling stopped when she found one from when she first moved into the apartment. Naomi had taken pictures of every room to show her parents and asked Y/n if she could show her parents the streamers room as well. Y/n cheerfully agreed, and actually wanted to be in the photo because she loved Naomi’s parents like they were her own, so she jumped on her bed and smiled for the picture.

It was cute, the comforter she sat on was messy and looked comfy, and she liked the way she was posed, cross-legged and beaming at the camera with her dying plant on the windowsill in the background and fairy lights around the room. It was also back when her room was clean and presentable. Y/n thought it was a good photo and even would have posted it if not for the whole her being a faceless streamer thing.

She held her breath, contemplating if she should just send the image to Dream. She wanted to, she really did. But that fear of how he perceived her still nagged in the back of her mind.

Y/n must have been mulling it over for a while because as she decided to not send it, Dream followed up on his last text, clearly worried that he was pressuring her. She wanted to change the subject as soon as possible before she changed her mind and face revealed to him.

Y/n took a deep breath at the thought of how close she was to sending that picture to Dream. It wasn't the first time she genuinely considered it, nor would it be the last, but that was the first time she actually looked through her camera roll for options. She so desperately wanted to. Wanted to show him what she looked like. Wanted to hear what he thought of her. Wanted to hear him say, "I like you, Bug" after finally seeing what she looked like. Wanted to let him know how much she trusted him by showing him her biggest fear. It would be so easy to just rip off the Band-Aid; only a few clicks and he could see her face. See her.

But then there was the possibility of none of her fantasies happening. What if she sent him a picture saying, "here is me!" and all he says is, "nice", not finding her pretty or ugly? What if he thought it was just like... seeing a picture of a friend. He and I are just friends, Y/n scolded herself. But him seeing her opened up the opportunity for him to like her.

It was scarier the longer she put it off, almost like the more she postponed it, the more she had to prove. If Dream knew what she looked like from the beginning, it wouldn't be that big of a deal. But since she had waited so long to show him, she felt like she had to make it worth the wait.

Was she worth the wait?

Y/n's bedroom door swung open, ripping her out of her thoughts and letting her know that Karl had arrived. He smiled at her and she laughed in response.

"Hello, Karl. Ever heard of knocking?"

"Nope!" he responded as he set down a cupholder with three drinks on her nightstand. "How are you?"

"Good." Daydreaming out about Dream... again. "How are you?"

"I'm so excited!" He dropped his backpack on the floor and turned to her, pulling her off her bed and giving her a hug. "I've missed you!"

"You saw me, like, a couple of days ago," she laughed as she hugged him back.

"A couple of days too long," he sighed dramatically, rocking back and forth into the hug before Y/n lightly pulled away from him. "Where's Naomi?"

"Uh... in her room I'm guessing?"

"I'm going to go give this to her," he explained grabbing one of the drinks and walking out. "Don't miss me too much!"

Y/n laughed and shook her head, laying back down on her bed with her phone in hand. She reread some of the texts between her and Dream and couldn't help the large smile that plastered itself on her face.

When Karl came back in, he jumped on the bed, wrapping his arms around her stomach and snuggling into her side. "Hello."

She laughed but pushed him away slightly, trying to ignore the pout on his face at her actions. "Hi."

"Oh, happy December!"

"Already? Geesh."

"Yeah, only 27 days until the lake!!!!"

Nervous and excited butterflies festered in the pit of Y/n's stomach. "What drink did you get me?"

"Your faaavorite," he sang as he grabbed the drink letting her sit up and lean against the headboard before handing it to her.

"Thank you very much," she said as she took a sip. "Oh, hey, so Quackity wants to do a Jackbox stream tonight and I said you'd join."

Karl groaned and laid back on Y/n, careful not to knock her drink out of her hand. "Noooo...."

"You don't wanna play?" she asked genuinely, patting his hair lightly as his head rested on her legs.

"I just want to hang out with you. It's been so long since we had Karl and Y/n time."

She sighed. "I know, but it will be fun. We'll play for like an hour and a half and then we can hang out for the rest of the night and all day tomorrow until you have to go to Jimmy’s house," she bargained like she was talking a four-year-old into eating some vegetables.

"Hmph. Fine," Karl pouted. "Is Dream playing?"

She shrugged. "I think so?"

"That's why you want to play so bad."

"What? No! I agreed to play before Sapnap said he would ask him."

"Mmmhm. So that Tweet earlier wasn't about him?"

"The... Tweet?" she played dumb but her face warmed up.

"Or was it about me?" he joked. "Have you just been blown away ever since we met and you're still thinking about how cute I am?"

"Shut up," she lightly pushed Karl's head off her lap as her face grew hotter. "Am I wrong though?"

"I don't know!" he said as he sat up and looked at her. "I've never seen the man!!"

"Oh, really?" she asked. "I didn't want to post it because I didn't want people to think I was bragging about knowing what he looks like..." she sighed.

"Then why did you?"

"Because... I also really wanted him to see it," she said with a shy giggle.

Karl face lit up as he cackled at her. "Look at you, trying to flirt!! Let's gooo!!!"

Y/n buried her face in her sweatshirt collar and laughed.

"Oh my gosh? Y/n subtweeting and flirting at the same time?? What on Earth?"

"It only counts if it works."

"Did it?” Karl asked as he leaned back and played with his rings. “You turned off comments and I didn't see him subtweet you back."

"That's because he... texted me... instead."

"WHAT? What did he say?"

Y/n laughed. "He said I wasn't allowed to tweet something like that and then turn off comments so he can't tell everyone it was about him."

Karl cackled again. "HAHAH! So true though!"

"Whatever. I'm not telling you anything else about our conversation."

"Why, was it spicy?"

"No. But— this is weird to talk about!"

Karl frowned. "You don't have to tell me... I just think it's so cute. But if you ever do want to talk about how much you wuv Dweam, I'm all ears. Tell me everything."

Y/n rolled her eyes fondly. "Okay Kawl."

"What time is Quackity streaming?" Karl changed the subject, understanding that Y/n actually didn't want to talk about Dream.

"I don't know. Ask him. Also, tell him you're joining so he knows." She took another long sip from her drink as Karl pulled out his phone and texted Quackity.

Her fingers itched to make another Tweet about Dream and she finally succumbed, but decided to outright tease him instead of flirt, not hiding the identity of her target this time. Really, it was just an excuse for her to try to get his attention like she couldn't just text him and have it right away.

_____

"Sapnap!" Bugsy cheered as he joined the Discord, Quackity off talking to his chat while the others slowly joined. So far, the only people there were Sapnap, Bugsy, and Karl.

"Bugsy!" he called back with a giggle. "Hi! Is Karl coming?"

"I'm here, Sapnap!" Karl announced. "Bugsy and I are just using the same mic."

"Am I not good enough for you?" she teased Sapnap and he laughed.

"Well you're going to ignore me to talk to Dream once he gets here, so I need a backup so I'm not lonely."

Y/n rolled her eyes with a smile and Karl laughed.

"We can talk while they flirt," Karl promised.

"Both of you shut up," she scolded softly.

Pretty soon, the others joined. In the end, Quackity had convinced Bad, Punz, and Wilbur to play, as well as all the feral boys.

"You could only get nine people to play, Quackity?" George asked once Quackity unmuted. "Wow, you must not have friends."

"Hey! I have friends, George! I do."

"Then where's the tenth person, Big Q?" Wilbur countered.

"LOOK! It was last minute! Where's Drea– that man is always late, I swear to—"

"I'm here!" Dream said quickly, joining the voice channel. "I'm here! Hello, everyone. Hi, Bug."

Karl smacked his hand over his mouth to cover his laugh, which escaped anyway, as he nudged Y/n. She had immediately buried her face in her hands and Karl had to turn away from the mic so no one could hear him laugh at Dream's direct greeting.

She pinched Karl's side before greeting Dream. "Hi, Dream."

"Are you guys ready to play?" Quackity asked.

"Wait, no, we're going to have to have Gene! Can't you get anyone else?" Punz asked.

"Everyone I've asked has said no!" Quackity groaned. "I'm out of people. Deal with Gene."

Y/n and Karl looked at each other at the same time, thinking the same thing. Naomi had been talking about wanting to play Jackbox sometime but that she never has anyone to play with other than Karl and Y/n. She'd be meeting most of these people on vacation in a couple of weeks anyway, why not see if she wants to play?

"What about my roommate?" Y/n spoke up as Quackity sent the code to the Discord.

"Who?" he asked.

"You literally met her when you visited," Karl laughed. "Naomi."

"Oh, yeah! She's cool."

"Invite her to play," George said, making Dream laugh lightly and Y/n smile because they knew they had been talking a lot.

"Yeah, give me a second, don't start yet," Y/n said before sliding off her headphones and making her way to Naomi's room. Before Y/n could even knock, Naomi swung open her door quickly, phone open to the Twitch app in her hand.

"I heard everything," she rushed out, eyes wide and hopeful. "C-can I play?"

"Yeah, you want to?"

"PLEASE."

"There are currently 130,000 people watching, just so you know."

"That's fine, I'm cool under pressure." That was very true. Y/n wouldn’t have let Naomi join if she thought her friend couldn’t handle the attention. She thrived in it. "Should I come to your room?"

"Yeah, come on." Y/n led the way and pulled up a third chair to her desk. Karl offered to listen to the Discord on his phone so Naomi could use the second pair of headphones to listen to everyone. All three of them still used Y/n's mic, Karl muted on his phone. "Okay, kinda scuffed set up, but we're all here. Everyone, this is Naomi."

"Hello!" Naomi said happily. "Nice to meet you all!"

Everyone greeted her and Y/n noted the redness on Naomi's cheeks as George greeted her with a soft, "Nice to talk to you again, Naomi."

Karl giggled again and slapped his hand over his mouth; Y/n had a feeling he'd have to do that a lot this stream.

"Can we all agree to not pander?" Bad asked, earning a few approvals.

"What if we play one game where we only pander?" Dream asked. "Like pander as much as possible for every answer."

"Wait, yeah, let's do that so everyone can get it out of their system," Wilbur agreed.

"But Naomi doesn't know us well enough to pander yet," Sapnap countered.

"Yes I do," she said with a laugh. "I've watched enough streams and lore videos to know exactly how to get votes."

"Damn, okay then," Sapnap mumbled.

"Yeah, she'll be fine," George promise and Naomi blushed again, making Y/n laugh. Naomi joined the lobby on her phone and the round began.

Pandering being the goal was both annoying and hilarious because people used the same jokes, but it was funny to see how hard people were trying to get the audience votes.

"Something you would take with you on a deserted island," Quackity read out loud as the prompt showed up. "An iPad full of downloaded skephalo fanfiction, HAHAH, or dreamnotfound fanart." Everyone laughed and Y/n could hear George scoff at one answer in particular.

"Aw, I love Skeppy!" Bad said innocently.

"Was that your answer then, Badboyhalo?" Wilbur teased as everyone voted on their favorite. Y/n, of course, cast her vote towards skephalo, but still pretended like the other answer didn't make her jealous. The player votes were split, but the audience made Sapnap's answer win in a landslide.

"Okay, the most disappointing thing to hear from a friend," Wilbur read the next one out loud. "Dreamsy is real, and you don't have a shot with BugsyGames."

"What the hell?" Y/n laughed loudly at the similarity between the two responses. Dream was laughing so hard, wheezing like he would never stop, and the sound brought a large grin to Y/n's face.

Everyone's laughs overlapped and mingled with each other and it was such a happy sound, distracting everyone's attention from Y/n a little.

"That would be the worst thing to hear!" Quackity yelled. "Good thing Bugity is real."

Dream stopped laughing abruptly and instead yelled, "WHAT?" which only made everyone laugh harder.

"Vote!!" Bad reminded.

"Wait, Quackity, what did you just say?" Dream asked.

"Well, I've seen her face, so... I think she loves me more," he said, just trying to get a rise out of the other, which seemed to be working.

Y/n thought again about how close she was to sending a picture of herself to Dream earlier. He probably would have immediately used it against Quackity, but she didn't think she would have minded because it was funny to see Dream jealous, real or not.

"Only because you flew out to hang out with Karl!" Dream yelled. "I'd fly just to see her."

"Then do it," Y/n challenged before she could think and her heart stopped at her own words.

Dream went silent and it was Naomi's turn to cover her laugh with her hand, Karl's eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

"Why are you so defensive, huh, Dream?" Punz asked.

"Uh, you-you have to be when fighting for Bug's love and attention," he joked finally, and Y/n's heart resumed beating, a little fast at the implication of his words. Why did she say that? He probably thought she was so weird. "It's every person for themselves." Then again, so was he.

The votes were pretty split since they said the same thing, but the surprising thing was who said what. She expected one of them to be from Quackity, but she didn't know who wrote the second one about not having a shot. Sapnap maybe? Karl? They all joke around so who put it?

"DREAM?" Sapnap laughed. "You wrote that?"

"Well, yeah, I mean..." he trailed off with a laugh and Y/n's face caught fire. Did he really think he didn't have a shot? Because reality check: he’s the only one with arrows and the target is wide open. Was he joking or stupid or was she just not as obvious as she previously thought?

"Okay, okay, next one," Quackity laughed. "If cats were political leaders, everyone’s favorite president would be: Patches, okay," he paused as Dream cheered loudly, "and Bingus."

"Corpse isn't even here! Wrong audience!" Karl said.

"Bingus is for all audiences," Y/n mumbled, making Naomi laugh.

"Uh-oh, another faceless man stealing Bugsy's heart—?" Sapnap joked, immediately cut off by Dream's stern, "no."

"Naomi, you put Patches?" Wilbur laughed as the votes went towards the girl on Y/n's left. "Okay, she does know more than we thought."

"Oh, I know everything," she said evilly, double-meaning evident in her voice. Y/n gave her a look and Naomi just smiled innocently.

The pandering got so intense that Y/n almost cried tears of joy when the first Quiplash game was over and the no-pandering rule got put back into play.

"What, you don't like your name being every other answer?" Wilbur joked and Y/n shook her head.

"No. But certain ones were okay..."

"Yeah, the Bugity ones," Quackity joked.

Dream hummed out a soft, "Okay, Quackity," and the next game began.

The games went on as usual and Y/n had a blast. It was so fun to see her best friend interact with all her online friends for the first time and it warmed her heart how inclusive they were, making sure Naomi wasn't left out of jokes. It helped that Naomi's sense of humor was similar and that she already knew a lot about the streamers, but Y/n was still grateful for all the efforts put forth by her friends.

It also helped that George and Naomi clearly liked each other.

"Is anyone going to stream?" Quackity asked as he started wrapping up.

"I will if no one else is," Punz said. "I'm going to play Valorant."

"Oh, can I play?" Sapnap asked.

"Yeah, definitely, dude."

"Okay, I'll raid you." Quackity muted after thanking everyone for playing and Y/n left the call.

"Dude, that was SO FUN!" Naomi stood up and yelled. She sat down on the end of Y/n's bed, hands balled up in excitement.

Karl laughed as he fell on top of the bed next to where Naomi sat. "I'm so glad you guys all got along!"

"Yeah, I almost started crying when everyone was laughing at your jokes," Y/n laughed, swiveling in her chair to look at them. "That made me so happy."

"Oh my gosh, thank you so much for letting me play. I had so much fun. And they're all so nice and funny and I was worried they'd make me feel left out but they didn't at all."

"I'm so glad you had fun," Y/n said. "We'll invite you again if you want."

"Please do. Only if everyone's okay with it though!"

"I'm sure they would be."

“The lake is going to be so fun,” she sighed whimsically.

“Because George?” Karl teased, causing Naomi to punch his arm.

A Discord notification sounded on Y/n's computer and she turned to look at the screen, smiling when she saw Dream's name.

Dream: You left the vc so quick :( Bugsy: I have two goons to hang out with :( Dream: :(((( Dream: I wanna be the only goon you hang out with Dream: I was right, I don't have a chance with you Dream: Karl is the only focus of Bugs attention Bugsy: ?? Bugsy: lies detected Dream: wait really Bugsy: ... Bugsy: do I need to remind you of the tweet I posted earlier Dream: bug don't say things like that to me Bugsy: why not Dream: can you kick Karl back to his house so we can ft or call :( Bugsy: no <3 Bugsy: we can tomorrow after Karl leaves Dream: promise? Dream: don't get my hopes up bug Bugsy: yeah I promise :) Dream: :D

"Pay attention to me!" Karl whined. Y/n turned back around and saw that Naomi had left the room and Karl was laying upside down, close to falling off the bed with his head dangling dangerously close to the ground.

She laughed and typed one last message to Dream.

Bugsy: bye bye dream :) Dream: goodnight bug :] sleep well

"Okay," she huffed jokingly, turning back to Karl. "You have my full, undivided attention."

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#real person fiction #rpf #dreamwastaken x reader #dream x reader #dreamwastaken x you #dream x y/n #dreamwastaken x y/n #mcyt x reader #mcyt x y/n #dream smau #dreamwastaken smau #smau #social media fic #social media fiction #dream social media fic #social media au

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aggravatetheaxe · 3 years ago

Note

Hi there! I was wondering if I could request an imagine where a victim “escapes” from the slashers and hurts s/o in the process. What would the slashers do during and after? Thank you!!

Hi! I wasn't sure which slashers you wanted for this, so I put my list into a randomizer and went with the first 5!

Walter Sullivan

Thomas Hewitt

Jason Voorhees

Deacon Billings (OC Ghostface)

Erik ("The Phantom")

SLASHERS WHOSE VICTIM HURTS THEIR S/O

cw: mentions of suicide, reader being injured/in mortal peril, mentions of torture and killing etc etc

Walter Sullivan

Oh no. Oh dear.

You are possibly the only good, pure thing in this world or the Otherworld and someone hurt you? Walter is ... not happy, to put it lightly. The only person who should ever hurt you is him, and he won't do that unless it's for your own good.

This only enforces his belief that the world and everyone in it are monstrous. It drives home the truth he's already convinced of - this existence in terrible and torturous and needs to be destroyed if anything holy is ever going to be allowed to blossom again.

Whether The Victim is pre- or post- Walter's suicide, he's already stopping at nothing to go after them. He doesn't view it as personal, he doesn't hold any particular hatred for most (most) of his victims; they're simply links in a chain. But this person, the one who hurt you ... it's personal. They'll die in absolute agony.

If the victim in question is pre-suicide, Walter will bring them down and find somewhere to keep them for later. This will not be a quick death.

While they're bound/gagged or knocked out, he'll check on you. You're special, possibly even the Mother Reborn, and he can't let you die until the time is right. If you're seriously injured, he'll see to it that you're taken to the hospital, and pray to a dead God if he has to that you'll be alright. If you're not seriously injured, he'll do his best to patch you up - he lived on the streets for many years and had to take care of himself, so he knows basic first aid.

Once he's certain you're safe, he will put you somewhere where you won't witness what he's about to do. Even if you want to see it, he'll insist you stay hidden, saying the sinner doesn't deserve to be in your presence. You'll have to really convince him if for some reason you want to watch.

Their torture will depend on what they did to you. If it was just a few scrapes and cuts, he'll let them feel every ounce of pain before they die. If they really hurt you, their torture will be prolonged. In his mind, and according to his religion, death is a sacred sacrament, and this evil being doesn't deserve its release. If they did something to seriously traumatize and/or sully you ... the crime scene he leaves behind is going to be grisly, to put it lightly.

If the victim in question is post-suicide, the results will be similar, but he has absolute control over the Otherworld - and he will utilize that. He will have his creations take care of you and keep you somewhere safe ... they may be terrifying, but they won't hurt you unless he wills it. As for the victim, he can twist them into their worst nightmares over and over again before killing them. He will make them see their wrongdoings and pay for their evil. They will beg for mercy and there will be none.

After it all, he will simply move onto the next one, with you somewhere safe ... until it's time. Until it's time. You are so perfect.

Thomas Hewitt

Dammit. If he'd just been quicker or smarter, he could have caught them before they escaped and hurt you. He immediately blames himself.

There's no time to beat himself up over it, though. He briefly checks to make sure you're not bleeding from anywhere vital and sends you (or locks you up) somewhere safe before going after the victim. You're on your own for first aid for now - unless you're literally dying, he can't let them leave the property.

If you are literally dying, he's staying and doing all he can to help you. But if Hoyt yells, he may have to pawn you off on someone else and hope they do a good job taking care of you. He'll hold your face and give you tender kisses goodbye - whether you want them or not - because this might be the last time he ever sees you.

He chases the victim in a fever, much more erratic than you would expect from him. He's faster, less careful, more inclined to put himself at risk just to get a swing in at them. It's not generally anything personal when he kills someone - it's something he does for the good of his family, and because he was told to. This one he's not interested in saving for meat. They hurt you. You, his special person. He's going to grind them into the mud, and he's not even going to let Hoyt have a go at them.

Sometimes, sometimes, he struggles to see the animals in his victims. But this one ... he doesn't even feel the urge to twist them into an animal. That's a whole human, an evil one, one he wants to kill. It's a different feeling for him.

Once it's all over and everything's calmed down, he's rushing directly to your side. People don't come around all too often, so he's comfortable putting down the chainsaw for now. He neglects any skin projects he planned and lets someone else do the butchering, focusing on taking care of you, especially if you're seriously injured and put up in bed.

If you're not as seriously injured and tell him you're fine, he's still keeping an eye on you ... and making sure you're well-fed. You've been through a lot and it was all his fault. He doesn't want you to be exposed like that again. Next time someone comes around, he'll insist you hide somewhere.

Jason Voorhees

It's a toss up whether or not he'll actually notice you're hurt. Not because he doesn't care or anything, but because Camp Crystal Lake is a lot of ground to cover and there's a low chance he'll be in the same area as you at any given time.

For this imagine, though, let's assume you've found your way to him or he's sensed you're in trouble and has rushed to you.

You were supposed to be safe in the cabin, so he's a little irritated that you wandered out, but that's completely overshadowed when he realizes you're hurt. He stops everything he's doing and clinically and thoroughly pats you down, identifying every solitary injury.

Just like his mother before him, he is a vengeful soul, so he is not letting this go even if you're just scraped or bruised. If you are critically injured, he'll at least get you to the cabin and get a tourniquet on you.

Otherwise, he leaves you behind. Not very mindful, but you should know that he wants you to get back to the cabin or at least stay out of the way. He is no longer thinking of you - he has established his target and knows what he has to do. He's laser focused and decisive as he stalks after them, using anything at his disposal to get to them.

Their death is quick - he doesn't play around - but he has a lingering sense of irony and playfulness. If there's a particularly interesting weapon nearby, he'll take them out with that; or perhaps he'll hurt them in the way they hurt you, just, you know ... more fatal. And a lot gorier.

After that, he'll move onto their friends, until every last one is dead. Once his objective is completed, he is returning to you directly and finishing the job of patching you up.

He can't help but feel a little guilty that you were hurt. You shouldn't have left the cabin, true, but perhaps he should have been watching for you. He should have locked you up. Pamela might say rude things in his head. Then again, she might comfort him. If she doesn't like you, maybe she'll even wish he'd left you to die.

Deacon Billings (OC Ghostface)

Well ... you usually keep him around to scare off other Ghostfaces - something he's very handy at - but you don't usually run into trouble with his victims.

He doesn't really tell you to go anywhere in particular when he's killing. He knows you can take care of yourself. But now he feels stupid for not having a backup plan. Of course some asshole was gonna eventually identify you as his loved one and try to get cute. He should've had something prepared for that.

But, if he's good at anything, it's improvising. He skids into whatever room you're in, drops his weapon, and pulls his mask off right away to check you over. If you're only mildly injured, he's visibly relieved, and tells you to stay put while he deals with whomever hurt you. If you're more seriously injured, he'll grab your phone and shove it in your hand. "Get in the car, get the fuck out of here. Drive to the emergency room if you have to, just leave."

If you're unable to drive, he'll make you call emergency services - or call them for you, if he has to. The game is over, he's done playing; this isn't fun if he's not winning. Everyone in this place is gonna be dead and he'll be long gone by the time the ambulance shows up for you.

The one who hurt you is going to get an extra special surprise. A particularly grisly death, and a bunch of selfies/short videos of Ghostface with the corpse - taken with the victim's own phone, posted to their instagram, tiktok, facebook, sent to any discord groups, and any other social media they have. If he has the time, he'll even make them in meme formats (definitely posting with meme captions, the fucking troll). He'll probably send a copy to you as a "hey, look what I did!"

If there are survivors, especially if that survivor is the one who hurt you, you better believe he is immediately doxxing them. Since he's had a little time to cool down, he might even play the long game, maybe catfishing and blackmailing them. Ruining their pathetic little life even further would be pretty fun. In the end, though, they'll die like all the others.

When all is said and done, he's going to be there for you, helping you recover any way he can. He'd suggest rest (for an amount of time relative to your injury), some movies and candy, maybe some video games. And time spent with your favorite Ghostface, of course, right?

He'll never forget what happened, though. Even though the person is dead, he'll be stewing and pissed off about it for a long, long time. And he won't let something like that happen again, or at least, not without a contingency plan in place.

The hash mark/tally mark he stitches into his costume to symbolize this kill is gonna be twice as long and large as the others, maybe in the place you got hurt as a reminder.

Erik

You already know what's about to happen.

If anyone so much as hurts your feelings they're getting menaced and receiving a strongly worded letter - actually physically harming you? That's suicide.

If he can't immediately kill this person, or if you're seriously injured, his primary objective is helping/comforting you. He has to push down a lot of wrath to do it ... every instinct tells him to immediately dispatch the fiend responsible ... but you are more important to him than anything in this world, even revenge. He will administer any first aid you need and may even drug you with ether to ensure you rest.

Don't think that means your attacker is off the hook, though. As soon as he decides you're well enough, he will put you somewhere safe - lock you away if he has to - and kill them. His preferred method is the Punjab lasso, but if they did something particularly egregious, he'll knock them out and take them to his torture chamber. They have a lesson to learn before they go to Hades.

Another option is, like Deacon, playing the long game ... playing with his food, stalking them, making them live in fear before they die. But he has a lot of wrath in that skinny little body, so it's a toss up as to whether or not he'll actually be able to follow through with that for very long. It depends on his mood, really!

He will keep the killing and torture hidden from you, of course ... unless you express an interest in seeing the vengeance being carried out. He would be worried for you, however, and advise against it. Those sights are not for the faint of heart, and certainly not for someone as beautiful and good as you.

Once all is said and done, it's as if it never happened. As if that person never existed! What a happy thought! Sometimes you even think Erik has completely forgotten the incident ... until he's stalking another victim and he locks you away again, and you remember you are always on his mind. He will never, never let that happen to you again.

#imagines #walter sullivan #walter sullivan x reader #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt x you #jason voorhees #jason voorhees x reader #jason voorhees x you #ghostface #ghostface x reader #ghostface x you #erik the phantom #phantom x reader #slasher imagines #slasher x reader #slasher x you #slasher community

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delicrieux · 4 years ago

Text

—MAKE YOU SAY “OH” EXTRAS: TINDER

extra meaning non-canonical occurrence; can be placed anywhere in the “make you say oh” timeline after couple (cha. 14) and before the final “oh”.

pairing—corpse husband x f!reader warnings—tinder profiles, tw: men, swearing. word count—2.6k. format— written. ─── ❥ req by nonnie: y/n makes a youtube vid/live stream where she's just swiping through her tinder acc and corpse literally blocks her lmao

author’s note—akldsljfs this was such a funny idea i could not not write it lmao

ultimate masterlist. myso masterlist

You have pulled the biggest brain move by setting up both a facecam and a screen recorder on your phone. All is beautifully displayed and visible during the stream. Your fanbase is particularly intrigued on what exactly are you planning on doing today, seeing as your tweet of “strea” had been a bit vague, if not downright ominous. No emojis. No elaboration. You couldn’t even be bothered to finish the word. Truly, a mystery. Everyone tuned in and are currently waiting with bated breath.

A few of your fans must sense upcoming doom because the overall mood in the chat turns from optimistically intrigued to...evil. It’s an entity all on it’s own now, clawing at you through the screen with various renditions of laughter and devil emojis. A few eggplants thrown in there for good measure, accompanied, naturally, by the scandalous water drops. At first the common consensus is that you’re biting the bullet and going through your camera roll on stream. Definitely an idea worth considering, though you frankly don’t know what lies at the start of the 11k photograph journey, and you are afraid to check in public. Could be a harmless meme, could be a salacious pic you had saved of an OF star. It’s really a gamble. Either way, you would definitely get banned. You might still get banned. Why do you insist on doing shit like this?

Because it’s funny. Because you’re kinda stupid. Because it’s just so absolutely laughably easy to do.

A smile quirks your lips, and while it is not explicitly smug, the look in your eyes sure is, “Greetings,” You utter lowly, dimming the lights--the budget for this stream! Ugh, you went all out, “my children.”

mother i crave violence

sensing evil energy rn!!

i do not claim the energy in this video for myself or anyone else watching this 💖💖

^with peace and love shut the fuck up

“I know y’all lowkey hoes-” Upon your words the chat splits into two: one side eagerly agrees (even shares a few OF accounts! How helpful, supporting small businesses!), whilst the other feverishly insists on innocence. You make a face stuck somewhere between offended and bewildered, “Now c'mon now-I know you. I know you all. We’re the same, don’t-what was that?”

You try to scroll back to the comment but it’s loss in the sea of incoming messages, “I swear to God I just saw-”

Corpse_Husband: i love late night streams it’s not like i have anything better to do.

“COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORPSE!!!!”

rip headphone users

i cant feel my face when im with you by the weeknd but instead of face its my fucking ears

yall think full vol on pc is better?my parents woke up 😭😭😭😭

To think he’s spending his last waking moments for today with watching you (he probably still would have anyway, because you do not posses an ounce of shame or self-control and pester him relentlessly)! It makes your heart sing, and suddenly, a traitorous, fun hating idea barges it’s way through the crowd of incoherent buzzing and states: don’t do this. For some reason it also has the voice of Rae. As if that would work in guilt-tripping you- Rae never succeed, and her fictitious rendition in mind won’t fare much better either.

Still, you thought about it. That must count for something. Corpse will understand, won’t he? Why don’t you want to upset it in the first place? Men look so funny when they lose their shit, like hello, don’t you have anything better to do? But the image of Corpse just sitting there, hurt, distraught, leaving you on seen because he’s in his sad boy hours leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

queen rly went from 🥺😊 to 😕 u ok bbgirl?

Corpse_Husband: no pouts cutie

akjdjoeijdfse cUTIE??? deadass boutta r.i.p.

Well that succeeded in eliminating everything from mind, doubts included. If this was an anime, the scenery would shift into something roseate, with flowers and bubbles and sparkles all around you along with a halo or two. Alas, not an anime, rather reality. The led-lights, however, seemingly possessing a will of their own, slowly turn from deep violet to pink. You smile brightly, like the absolute dumbass you are, and you are met with a ray of heart and blushing emojis. You are just so cute, a real cutie! Still in your disguise adorable state, you swipe your finger on your phone screen, the grin never leaving your lips.

There, among the plethora of apps, nestled sits a red square with a white fire plastered on it. The delicate calligraphy on the bottom reads: TINDER.

The mood changes once again- you’re giving the roaches emotional instability by how quickly everything flips over- and the chat spams eggplants vigorously; some, of course, bravely fight against the thirst.

nooooooo i thought y/n is gonna stream in a god honoring way!!!

^pack it up girl defined

“So, Charlie and I-” You note a few awfully curious comments and squint, “-yes, we talk a lot. Charlie is a really good friend of mine. We’re best friends. Brothers. Sisters. Cousins. The whole fucking family tree-no, that sounds weird. Delete. Anyway, Charlie, being the absolute fucker he is, said, hey, you know what would be funny? And I was like, nooo, what would be funny, Charlie? And he says to me, he says, says, making fun of men on Tinder. And if y’all need any more proof that Charlie and I are platonic soulmates, then dunno, my children, my roaches, I dunno-I dunno what more to give you.”

You can’t be bothered reading the comments, there’s too damn many. You also need to save your reading comprehension for the actual bios. It has a time limit, that darn thing.

“Okay, so I made a profile earlier, but I hadn’t swiped on anyone yet-” Despite the fact, Tinder helpfully informs you that already 99+ people have swiped right on you, “So, this is me,” You show the pictures you have of yourself, and damn, not to be a conceited narcissist, but you look really good. Like if you saw yourself on Tinder, you’d super like instantly. “Uhm, so, my bio-my bio says: let’s sauce in the tub together, ya dig? splishy splashy, giggle giggle.”

i cant believe we are witnessing y/n trying to form a coherent sentence live

shes trying give her time

ya dig??? y not capeesh

what scene from the godfather is this lol?

“My anthem, is,” You laugh, covering your lips with your hand, “Corpsie, this is form you-” Proudly, you show that indeed, Corpse’s E-GIRLS ARE RUINING MY FUCKING LIFE is listed as your anthem on Spotify, “Hehe.” Yes, you say that aloud.

Corpse_Husband: you’re killing me Corpse_Husband: thanks baby Corpse_Husband: now delete tinder ❤︎

You ignore his last quip, deciding it’s finally time to get this show on the road, “Right, let’s do this shit. I’m not actually going to swipe on any guys that look, uh, decent? Yuck, can’t believe I just said that, uhm, because I-because I feel like some actually deserve a chance with someone? I don’t wanna get anyone’s hopes up, as I am currently in a long distance relationship with Chrollo. So I’m just gonna swipe on, like, frat boy assholes. Because I don’t care if I hurt their feelings. Quite frankly I don’t think they possess them in the first place.”

The chat voices their agreements. With the ground rules set, you, giddy, click on the first profile.

Does Tinder know what you’re doing, your plan? The FBI agent watching you through your phone must be working overtime, bless his heart. They must, because the the first guy to meet you is named Jason, and there he is, blond hair and blue eyes, holding up a fish the size of his torso. Marginally adequate in looks, pretty good muscles. A solid 7 bordering on 8. He’s the same age as you, 15 miles away, and he studies at some college you don’t care enough to look up. Bio reads:

I like to drive fast. Fishing is my passion, but if you can’t catch me by the ocean, you’ll catch me catching waves, bro! Love a good gym date. You do squats, and I’ll keep a close eye to make sure you’re doing it correctly ;) You probably saw me at a party. Leader of the The Phi Kappa Psi. I’m a Gemini, if that matters lol.

You, of course, read it aloud, dramatically; provide some constructive criticism-he seems nice, but he’s a Gemini, so naturally, you can’t trust him at all! Also, that gym date session leaves little to be desired. With your rant done, you swipe right, and shocker! (not), it’s an instant match.

“Okie, I still wanna swipe of some profiles, so I’ll see what he’ll text later-” For a second you wonder the legalities of this stream, but you’re having too much fun to think of it further, “guys, I won't get sued, right?”

NOW she considers it

well....

if you do, we’ll kickstart your lawyer dw <3

Onto the next profile. Kevin, 25, is seen fixing his car- or, you assume he’s mid-fixing it, you don’t really know why else he’d hold a wrench and be covered in oil. He’s shirtless, and the caveman part of your brain echoes something closely resembling AWOOOGA!, but...but!...blonde hair, blue eyes. You pout again, “I don’t...I don’t really like blond boys, ya know? With the blue eyes and all, it’s just not my thing, uhm, unless it’s like-like...Armin from Attack on Titan. Else I don’t care.”

Onto the bio:

You have to treat a car like you treat a woman: go on long rides, take the lead, but most importantly, keep her oiled up 😜

“What the fuck did I just read?”

The chat is equally confused. You swipe right anyway- another match. Too easy.

The stream continues without incident for a solid thirty minutes- all of your matches, expect a few that genuinely looked like normal dudes that really couldn’t write a decent bio to save their lives, had been blond hair blue eyed gym rats with ranging forms of misogyny. Some opened with asking for nudes out right, some asked about your day first before asking for nudes. You prefer the former. Straight to the point! You admire the gall.

But then, down the forty-five minute mark a profile popped up that made you still by your phone, your smile dying as your eyes bulged. Dear God. Lord in heaven. Who is this demonspiit lookalike and why is he so fucking hot? The neck tats, the skateboard, the clothes- holy shit, you gotta close your mouth before some drool dribbles out.

No bio, just his name, Tyler, and that he’s 23.

“He boutta be 23 in me.” You mutter, swiping right with lightning speed.

WHAT DID SHE SAYYYYY?????????

tyler is y/ns karma for relentlessly mocking that one guy that had a whole ass list on what his “female” partner should be

^he deserved it and also tyler seems like a typical fuckboi y/n grow a braincell

look at mom 🥺 her eyes are sparkling

It wasn’t a match right away. You somehow expected as much, but it still upset you. Simp behavior, pathetic. The stream continued bravely, and when Tyler messaged you a simple “yo” you totally didn’t sequel. You didn’t manage to text him back on stream: texting all those guys that you didn’t really find all that attractive was easy, but this...You’re a sucker for a man who radiates red flag energy. His whole profile is a red flag. He might just be a red flag himself.

What can you do? Suddenly becoming color blind is not easy. Once the stream ends, you unmatch with everyone expect Tyler. He you chat with for a bit, but a sudden craving for different company makes you abandon him, too. You don’t feel too heartbroken for him- you’re certain there’s already too many girls in his dms. You wish them luck.

Happily, you delete Tinder. You go to Twitter, notice you’re trending again- look at you go! Queen shit- and as you compose a thank you tweet, something strange happens. You go to text Corpse, but when you click on his profile you grow cold.

YOU’RE BLOCKED. You can’t follow or see @/Corpse_Husband ‘s Tweets.

...Pardon? You hop onto Instragram and-also blocked. Seriously? And you thought you’re one petty bitch. Corpse is seriously prissy about everything. Damn, if he didn’t like your stream, he could’ve just said so. Didn’t need to, like, block you from his internet existence. So not cool.

You try texting him but no text go through. Well how will you let him know you deleted Tinder just like he asked? You relieve your frustrations by punching your pillow a few times. Later, you apologize to her, you didn’t mean to hurt her, it’s not her, it’s you. Fuck, 5 minutes of exile and you’re already loosing your mind.

“Raeeeeeeeeeeee!” You whine loudly. It’s roughly 2am now, but you don’t care. You’re too heartbroken to care. There’s a thump from her room, but nothing else, “Raeeeeeeeee!!!” You wail, wallowing in self-pity on your bed. You hear a very loud, very annoyed sigh from her room, followed by angry marching. Your door is abruptly thrown open, and in the dim, colorful light you see her scowl.

“What?” She grits.

“Can you please tell Corpse to unblock me from everything?”

“What did you do now?”

“I made fun of men on Tinder.”

She pauses, “...That doesn’t sound so bad.” She surmises, voice laced with suspicion, “What else?”

“...There was one really hot guy that I kinda sorta talked to after--”

“Y/n.”

“-But I totally deleted Tinder and honestly he was pretty boring, so, like, uhm, please?”

She sighs, the servery of which implies she is holding the weight of the world on her shoulders, and instantly you know that you won. She taps away at her phone, “You owe me one.” She states, and before you can reply, she exits your room and slams the door behind her.

Grinning, you text his phone again. The message goes through, oh gosh, you’re so relieved you feel like crying. This has been, officially, the worst five minutes of your life.

You Y DID U BLOCK ME LOSER!!! MAJOR LOSER ALERT!! I DELETED EVERYTHING IT WAS A JOKE r u still mad at me? y u always mad at me i never do anything:(

my husband You’re my baby, how do you think I’ll react when I see you publicly simping for some asshole on Tinder?

Oh no, he used the words, he delivered the killing blow. You’re finished. Your heart can’t take such a workout.

Not that you would ever admit it to him, though!

You hehe ur jellyyyy u always dis jealous hehe?

my husband Not jealous.

Yeah, you might not be the brightest tool in the shed, but even you know that’s a lie. You send him an array of kissy emojis that he doesn’t have the decency to reply to. Then, completely unprompted and dead serious, you send him a simple voice memo, saying: “You really have nothing to worry about, you know? You’re my favorite, Corpsie.”

He responds via text, reiterating that he’s not fucking jealous and that he just doesn’t like when you show such outward interest in anyone but it’s not like he cares or anything. It’s just really, like, weeeeird to see his baby simping for another man like that totally ruins the whole dynamic!!! It was only natural that he should block you on every social media platform, including his personal number (which, like, was completely necessary! Doesn’t matter that his viewers can’t see it, it’s gotta be super believable!), and inform his followers of that, because it’s all a joke, like, for the dynamic, that Youtube grind, you know? Ya dig? No personal feelings were involved at all. He totally wasn’t upset that you found someone else cute, no way!

my husband I’m not jealous. Lol.

You ik u repeated tht like 50 times u trynna convince me or??? lmao

my husband No comment. ...You don’t actually talk to anyone else like we’re talking, right?

You no one else calls me their baby if thts wat ur wondering at least not to my knowledge lol im all urs

my husband That makes me very happy to hear:)

Yeah, it makes you very happy, too.

hope you liked it!! xx

#corpse husband #corpse husband x reader #corpse #corpse x reader #corpse husband x y/n #corpse x y/n #myso #make you say oh #imagine #imagines

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edendaphne · 4 years ago

Text

“Discordant Sonata” Chapter 18

>>Click here to read on Ao3<<

>>Click here to read on Wattpad<<

——-

CHAPTER 18: AFFETUOSO

Music glossary:

Affetuoso: to perform with passion and emotion

**Chapter illustration by @corgi-likes-chat **

----

(Mood Music: “Christofori’s Dream” - David Lanz)

Adrien’s eyelids fluttered open, a sleepy smile still present on his face. He breathed out a long, contented sigh, stretching his limbs out wide enough that they poked out of the bedcovers. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept so well.

Last night, after Marinette awoke him from his most harrowing night terror to date, he’d fallen back asleep and something remarkable happened: for the second time in years, he’d actually had a pleasant dream. The only other time he hadn’t suffered from his usual nightmares ever since becoming Chat Noir was on the first night that he’d arrived at the Dupain-Cheng residence.

He tried to think back, wondering what might have caused this, not just last night, but back on that first day Marinette had brought him home. What did these two occurrences have in common?

His mouth quirked to the side and his brow furrowed, deep in thought, trying to remember. He wasn’t exactly in the best frame of mind when he’d arrived a couple of months back, given all that had happened when he ran away from his father; so it was no surprise that his memory of that night was hazy at best. Nevertheless, he hoped to find a correlation; if there was one, maybe he could figure out how to repeat it.

His thoughts were interrupted by a gentle hand sliding across his midsection. Disturbed by his movements, a smaller body rolled toward him, settling comfortably on his chest and breathing out a drowsy sigh.

He looked down and there she was: sweet, lovely Marinette; one of the dearest and most important people in his life. The raven-haired girl stirred, letting out a small whine; Adrien stilled, subconsciously holding his breath, not wanting to wake her and accidentally reveal his identity.

This became much harder when she reached around him, her fingers lightly skimming across his rib cage. His muscles tensed and he bit back a laugh; why did he have to be so darn ticklish?!

He readjusted himself, trying to shuffle out from underneath her; but she clinged to him like an overgrown barnacle, even in her unconscious state. I guess she’s a cuddler, he thought, and he couldn’t help but smile about how well that suited her.

It was still pretty dark in the room, as the sun hadn’t risen yet. He glanced over at the wall clock; he still had about an hour and a half before he had to report to work at the bakery, so he didn’t have to rush to get ready. Relieved, he sagged back down onto his pillow. He could relax for a little longer, he supposed.

Deciding to check his notifications while Marinette slept, he gingerly reached towards his nightstand to grab his phone, careful not to disturb her. He’d deactivated all his social media accounts since running away from home, so there weren’t very many notifications; there was a school-related email and a couple of late night funny memes from Nino.

Adrien checked the Ladyblog next. No news about any akumas this morning, thankfully. However, there were a few blurry snapshots of the previous night’s attack. He scrolled down for a bit, then stopped, his eyes popping open as he focused his attention on a particular photo.

He couldn’t suppress the lovestruck sigh that escaped his lips when he stared at a picture of Ladybug. His Lady was breathtaking, her eyes so ethereal, her smile utterly resplendent. She was indescribably beautiful, both inside and out and there was absolutely nothing he would change about her. He was hopelessly smitten, no doubt about it.

A few months ago, he would have berated himself for feeling this way about his mortal enemy. But his entire life had been turned upside down since then, and he wholeheartedly embraced this unexpected development.

The next photo was taken after the akuma was purified and the Miraculous Cure had set everything back to where it should be. Ladybug had seen that Alya was about to snap a photo, so she grabbed Chat and turned him around to face the camera, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. She grinned widely, and did a peace sign with her free hand. So cute.

He glanced over to his own face and instinctively grimaced. He was winking at the camera with a goofy, cheerful salute, not bothering to channel the suave, sophisticated mannerisms of a proper model that he’d incurred over the years. God, I’m so cringy, he thought.

Nevertheless, he saved the picture onto his phone. It was the first photo of them together like this, as opposed to impersonal ones taken by the media from afar, or during press releases and interviews.

It had only been posted a few hours ago, but already it had thousands of likes and comments. He didn’t dare look through those, however. Not since he first discovered the kinds of things people wrote about Chat Noir, both before and after his change in alliances. It was better to avoid those, lest he ruin his day reading about how much some people still hated him.

But he remembered Marinette’s words from the night before. She was right; he had to have hope, and believe that things would slowly get better. Attitude was everything.

Speaking of Marinette…

He looked down at his roommate once again. By this point, she’d slinked and climbed almost entirely on top of him, utilizing him like a mattress. His eyebrows scrunched together, and he wondered how in the world he’d be able to slip out of bed undetected.

All the stealth-based videogames I’ve ever played have prepared me for this moment. I got this!! he thought, hyping himself up.

Taking a deep breath in, he rolled over to his side, managing to slide Marinette’s ragdoll-like form back onto the mattress. She made a small noise and he froze, electricity crawling up the back of his neck. A few tense moments passed, and her stirring subsided, her breathing becoming slow and even once again. He exhaled, just now realizing he’d been holding his breath.

Freedom!! Adrien celebrated as he stood, stretching his arms high over his head, taking care not to hit the ceiling lights. His skin felt grimy with dried sweat from the night before; a shower was exactly what he needed right now. He tiptoed over to get a change of clothes from the dresser, giving the occasional glance towards the bed to make sure Marinette was still asleep.

As he made his way to the bathroom, he stopped by her side, a warm smile spreading across his face. He bent over and gave the top of her head a small kiss. Where would he be without her and her family? She and Sabine especially went out of their way to help him feel at home, to make him feel like he belonged, instead of treating him like a nuisance, or like some freeloader just taking up space. He loved them all so much; he vowed to himself to make it up to them someday.

He pulled the bedcovers up to Marinette’s shoulders so she wouldn’t miss the extra warmth too much, then made his way to the bathroom to start the day.

Marinette stirred, enveloped in softness and a familiar scent of spice and fresh rain. Eyes still closed, she extended her arm, reaching for the oversized cat pillow on her bed that she always liked to cuddle.

Her searching hand found something soft. Aha! She brought it closer, snuggling it tight, then began to get comfortable again. But then, her pillow started poking her cheek, over and over and over. The pillow’s poking only intensified when she tried squeezing it even harder. How rude!

Wait... what?

A single eyelid groggily slid open, meeting a small pair of eyes of a distinctive shade of green. A rather frazzled-looking Plagg stared back, his expression unamused from being squished between her and the pillow she was hugging.

“Sorry, Plagg,” she slurred sleepily as she pulled away to give him some space. “What are you doing here?”

He crossed his little arms, raising a brow. “I live here, remember?”

“But why are you in my room–– oh, wait…” she stopped, the memory of last night starting to rush back to her. This wasn’t her room; it was Chat’s. She’d slept in his room last night. And the bed she was lying in was his bed. These were his blankets and pillows, and they carried his scent. Heat rose to her face and a multitude of imaginary butterflies swarmed in her stomach as she realized that she’d actually spent the night with him, albeit under less than ideal circumstances.

And then a second realization dawned on her: Chat Noir was gone.

She sat up with a start, her head whipping back and forth to search for him. As she was about to panic, she heard the shower running in the en suite bathroom, punctuated by some cheerful humming. With a heavy, relieved sigh, she laid back down, careful not to squish the tiny cat god next to her.

“By the way, Little Bug,” Plagg murmured, meekly rubbing the back of his head. “Thanks for helping my kid last night.”

“Oh, of course, Plagg!” she replied. “I’m always happy to help however I can.”

He gave her a melancholy smile. “I just wish there was more I could’ve done. I tried waking him up myself, but he couldn’t hear me at all, no matter how hard I tried.” He sighed, twisting his mouth into a pained frown. “He doesn’t deserve this. He's already gone through so much.”

“Plagg, no, it’s okay! You did your best, and I’m sure Chat knows that too. I’m just glad I was able to get through to him. It was lucky that I happened to be downstairs at that time. Chat couldn’t ask for a better friend than you.”

Plagg grinned widely at her. “I always knew I liked you,” he remarked, scooting closer and nuzzling into her.

Marinette smiled back, returning the hug and kissing the top of his head, followed by providing him with some gentle scratches behind the ears. He let out a small, contented purr as he leaned into her hand.

After a few moments of hesitation, Plagg spoke again, “Little Bug, there’s... something else you need to know.”

They pulled apart, and Marinette eyed him with trepidation. “What is it?”

“It was too dark, so you didn’t see it, but–” he said with a grim tone in his voice, “–I need to let you know what really happened last night.”

“Huh?” Marinette’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. “What do you mean? I know he said his night terrors aren’t usually this bad, but was there something else?”

A dark look flickered on Plagg’s face. “Hawkmoth tried to akumatize him last night.”

Marinette felt like she’d been dropped into a vat of ice water. “W- WHAT?!” she sputtered. “B-but how is that possible?! Akumatized?? He was asleep! Hawkmoth can’t akumatize people who are unconscious!!” She paused, pondering the possibility. “Right…?”

“It’s tricky, but not impossible,” Plagg replied. “Hawkmoth knows about Chat Noir’s nightmares, so he must’ve sensed his opportunity and finally taken it last night.”

Marinette brought a hand to her temple in disbelief.

Plagg continued, “I don’t know why he decided to try it now, instead of when he first ran away. And what if–” he gulped, and his voice quavered slightly as he continued, unable to conceal his fear, “What if he tries it again? What if he tries it every night?”

“No… he wouldn’t… he can’t!!” Marinette cried, staring at the bathroom door, her mind racing a million miles a minute. She clenched her fists as she tried not to give into the feelings of dismay and anxiety that were clawing away at her. “Plagg… What do we do?! Hawkmoth’s patterns seem to be getting more erratic and desperate recently. Is he under some kind of deadline? Why is he doing this??”

“I can think of a couple of reasons,” Tikki answered from across the room.

Marinette practically leaped off the bed in surprise due to Tikki’s abrupt entrance. “Tikki!” she exclaimed.

The brightly colored kwami hovered towards them and elaborated, “Firstly, as Chat grows older, his powers will continue to get stronger, as will yours, so you’ll be more difficult for Hawkmoth to defeat as time goes on. Secondly, I think the effects of misusing the butterfly miraculous must be catching up to him as well. His desperation suggests that maybe he thinks he’s running out of time.”

“Out of time? What do you mean?” Marinette asked, confused.

Plagg sighed. “It’s his health,” he answered. "He wasn’t doing very well even before we left. Slowly but steadily, it’s been getting worse for a while.” He turned to face Tikki. “You think Hawkmoth believes that he’s gonna… you know... soon?”

Tikki shrugged in response, her expression blank.

“Oh… I see,” Marinette said, her voice almost a whisper.

Her mind raced, a torrent of emotions crashing into her simultaneously, like a rowboat in a tempest, slamming into a cliffside without respite.

She wasn’t sure how to feel about this new information. Her chest felt tight, like it did when she wanted to cry. Should she feel happy or sad that her mortal enemy was getting sicker and sicker, to the point where his life was potentially in danger? Was it okay to feel–dare she say it– relieved?

What was she supposed to think? As a hero, was it more important to be merciful, or was it more important to be just? Her heart felt like it was being pulled in two completely opposite directions. Despite hating the man with every fiber of her being, part of her thought that maybe dying was too extreme a punishment. And yet, at the same time, the hurt, embittered part of herself thought that maybe dying would be too easy, like he was getting let off the hook instead of being forced to acknowledge his wrongs and feel remorse for the horrible things he’d done.

For years, she’d dreamed about the day when Hawkmoth would be defeated and his miraculous confiscated. It was supposed to be a happy time, full of rejoicing and excitement. But she’d never considered the possibility that Hawkmoth would be defeated by an entirely different force, one that she had no say in how or when it happened. It didn’t feel fair. She hated feeling this powerless.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a brief tug at her sleeve. She looked down at Tikki, who motioned towards the bathroom with a small nod. It was then that she noticed the noise–or rather– the absence of it, which could only mean one thing: Chat Noir had finished his shower, and he’d be coming out of the bathroom any minute now.

“I think that’s our cue to leave,” Tikki whispered.

Marinette nodded. She turned to Plagg and whispered, “We’ll talk more later. I’ll call Master Fu later today and see if he has any advice.”

“M’kay. See ya,” he replied with a small wave. “Bye, Sugarcube.”

Tikki looked back and gave him a reassuring smile, then followed Marinette out the door.

Plagg hovered towards the windowsill while he waited for his charge, plopping down with a heavy sigh. He leaned against the window, taking in the many colors of the dawn sky, which looked almost too bright and vibrant for his liking. How dare the heavens look so beautiful while he felt so miserable inside? The day hadn’t even really started, and yet the only thing he wanted to do was to just crawl back into bed. He dearly hoped that the heavy, uneasy feeling in his gut would go away soon.

(A short while later)

Work at the bakery had been lively and hectic today; so much so that Chat Noir had to be reminded when his shift was over and that he needed to head to school. He gave Sabine a parting hug, the latter thanking him for his hard work and giving him some encouraging words as she helped dust the flour off his suit and hair.

Chat retrieved his cloak from a coat hanger by the door and stepped into the stairwell that led to the living quarters, so that he could retrieve his school supplies and exit through Marinette’s balcony trap door as he normally did. That was definitely one of the plus sides of working in the kitchen while transformed; he could wear his school outfit underneath and not require a change of clothes or a shower when he was through. He could merely detransform and be good as new.

As he ascended up the stairs, he heard a familiar deep voice call out to him from below. Chat froze, then turned around, trying to keep his nerves under control.

“Could I speak with you for a minute?” Tom asked.

Uh-oh.

“O-of course, Mr. Dupain,” Chat replied, trying to keep his voice even despite his nerves.

Tom’s face was mostly neutral, but his body was rigid and there was a hint of gloom in his eyes. Chat did his best not to cringe as he stood in front of the much taller man who, despite not being a superhero, looked like he could toss him clear to the Eiffel Tower if he felt like it. To prevent himself from fidgeting, Chat finally opted to stick his hands inside his pockets.

“What is it, sir? D-did I do something wrong?” he asked. “I was running a bit late, so I apologize if I didn’t put something back in the right spot. O-or did I mess up an order?? I’m sorry, I can go back and fix… whatever it is!”

“No, everything’s fine; it’s something else,” he answered, and Chat felt the stiffness in his shoulders ease a tiny bit.

However, it came back full force when Tom didn’t say anything else. Chat’s heartbeat sped up as they stood face to face in silence, unsure of the route this conversation was about to take.

What else could he be in trouble for? Did he find out Marinette had fallen asleep in his bedroom yesterday? Oh no… Did Tom think he and Marinette had… done something unseemly together last night?! Was he getting kicked out of the house?? His mind raced and his chest thumped, and he prepared himself to beg on his knees for forgiveness if need be.

A few agonizingly long and awkward seconds later, Tom spoke again, “Chat Noir… I wanted to apologize to you.”

“Oh, I see. Wait… WHAT?!?” Chat felt like someone had yanked the carpet out from underneath him. “Apologize?? What for?”

Tom lifted his arm to rub the back of his head, his entire posture taut as a bowstring. “We didn’t really get off on the right foot, you and I. You’ve been nothing but cordial and polite, and all I’ve done since you arrived is give you the cold shoulder, and for that I’m truly sorry. I wanted to clear the air and start over, if that’s okay with you.”

“Mr. Dupain! N-no, please, it’s okay!” Chat sputtered, his hands waving frantically. “I totally understand why you would have reservations about me living here, o-or even interacting with you guys at all! They’re totally justified concerns! I mean, up until a few months ago, I was still working with Hawkmoth; so the fact that you even allowed me into your home at all is incredibly kind of you! I’ve never felt any ill will towards you, I swear! You were just doing what any good father would––” he trailed off, trying to keep the melancholy out of his voice, “–would do.”

Tom winced and sighed heavily, crossing his arms. “That’s exactly my point, though. It may have been justified at first, but that was back then . I tolerated you for the sake of my wife and daughter, but I was always suspicious. I should’ve given you a chance instead of just judging you for no reason, especially after all this time. So I wanted to try to make it up to you.”

It was then that Tom brought something shiny out of his shirt pocket. It was an adorable little keychain shaped like a croissant. But wait… no, it wasn’t just a keychain, Chat realized. There was a key dangling on the end. A house key. Tom handed it over, doing his best to try to conceal a timid smile.

Chat gaped at him, reeling from what was happening. “I… I don’t know what to say. That is so generous of you! Thank you, Mr. Dupain,” he replied meekly, staring into his hands at the key. HIS key.

He felt the man’s large hand pat him on the shoulder and Chat looked up, meeting his soft, forest green eyes. “Please, call me Tom.”

Chat had to consciously fight the urge to let his jaw drop. If he wasn’t dreaming last night with Ladybug’s revelation, he was surely dreaming now. “Y-yes, sir! Uhh, Mr. Tom, sir. Uhh, I mean…” he stammered, still not recovered from having been gobsmacked out of nowhere.

The older man gave out a hearty laugh. “Just Tom. And please, if there’s anything you need, just say the word. Even if it’s just someone to lend an ear. You’ve got a good heart despite the bad hand that’s been dealt to you, and you have so much potential. We’re happy to have you in our family, even if you’re only here temporarily. Just know you’ll always have a home here with us.”

Chat’s heart swelled with affection, so full that it felt like it might burst, and his eyesight became blurry with unshed tears. He threw his arms around the giant man in front of him, someone who he never thought would fully accept him, squeezing hard.

“Thank you, Tom! Thank you so much, I’m just–” he let out a shuddering sigh then continued, voice cracking, “–thank you.”

Tom squeezed back firmly, giving him an affectionate pat. Failing to hide a sniffle, he then added, “I should let you get going, I don’t wanna make you late for school.” The pair pulled apart, and Tom ruffled Chat’s hair. “Be safe out there, kiddo.”

After saying their goodbyes, Chat bounded up the stairs, practically floating with glee. He’d missed this feeling; the feeling of being part of a family. As he emerged onto the rooftop balcony, he took a deep breath of the crisp autumn air, his heart full of excitement and hope.

He arrived at the school in high spirits and a huge grin on his face. He detransformed in a discreet location and practically skipped to the school’s entrance; then he entered the campus, carefree, joyful, and blissfully unaware of the dark eyes that followed him inside.

#Miraculous Ladybug #Enemies AU #Marinette Dupain Cheng #Adrien Agreste #Chat Noir #Ladybug #Ladynoir #enemies to lovers #fanfiction #Discordant Sonata #ML AU #aged up #Eden writes #art by others #Fanfic art

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ravenadottir · 3 years ago

Note

How do the LIs have MC saved in their phone contacts?

-💫

can i add a couple of the friends’ too?

bobby. i know what you're thinking, "boo". it's not, not unless it's halloween, with a little 👻 on its side. "cupcake 🧁" if it's not cupcake, i'll retire.

carl. i struggled really hard to find something and that's because... carl is not really playful or have lots of inside jokes. he's already having to get used to calling the girl 'babe', so i reckon that's definitely what he wrote down as her name in his phone, but it's super awkward, like in all caps "BABE" and no emoji, because he's trying his best but it doesn't come naturally to him. he's just getting the hang of memes now, there's a tough road ahead.

chelsea. "the wine". and mc has hers as "🥂"

elisa. "beebee" a pun with babe and bees. say what you want nothing changes my mind that elisa digs puns and is particularly dorky when in love.

gary. he can be sweet sure, but he's probably calling her "dinosaur" so he can piss her off lol i would like to think he would also use "mate" but with a heart, because they call each other mate all the time in the villa.

hannah. am i too hannah if i say it's the name of her favorite character at the moment? like, if she's reading 'pride and prejudice' mc would be "mr. darcy" in her contact list, even though they never had that arc. does that make sense? 'cause she talks about the great gatsby at prom and like... that doesn't make much sense either.

henrik. i have a strong feeling it's gonna be either his favorite place or favorite animal that mc resembles the feeling of, like "mountain pillar" because it was breathtaking, or "chipmunk" because it's so adorable.

hope. things that absolutely elevate mc, like "favorite". or if you're really close, "sister". and her actual sisters have their real names in there lol

ibrahim. definitely super hero stuff, probably from violet man. since we didn't get the full scoop on it, i'mma say "ultra babe" or something in that genre. very cheesy but very sweet.

jakub. mc's full name. he probably is one of those people that have the contacts' full info, like email, address, home number, work number, the whole file. the picture is from her ID lol

kassam. it's musical most of the times, and it changes from moment to moment, all of them are to either piss her off or elevate her, no in between. it goes from "stairway to heaven 🎶" to "baby shark 🎶" real fucking quickly.

lottie. i wrote "it depends on the horoscope" before but like, it got me thinking whether she would go that far. but i do believe lottie would name mc after a goddess or planet, because of how it might be affecting mc's life that week/month. usually "venus" but i do think she would be naming mc "mercury in retrogade to tease her sometimes.

lucas. he wouldn't be the type to use anything too sugary but that's the surprising bit. one day he loses his phone at home and mc calls it and sees on the screen something sweet like "babe" or "love" and he rolls his eyes with "what did you expect? your ID number?" and when she makes fun of him or say "awww" he respond with "alright, don't make a big deal out of it..." but can't help a smile.

marisol. mc's name, but with a heart next to it. we know she doesn't dig pet names and that's not changing after the villa, but i believe she puts some sugar on it.

noah. it changes depending on what he's currently reading. i think he likes using places and animals, like henrik, although it's not about the feeling, but how interesting they are. like, if he reads about a particular cute salamander, then "salamander" will be her contact name until the next article.

priya. she changes it constantly, mostly to make mc laugh, so it's things like "hot ass", "dem tiddies" or "daddy". things that would be cringey if she wasn't kidding, basically. the cringier the funnier to her.

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gashinabts · 3 years ago

Text

peculiar taste| (m)

Words: 2.8k

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, pwp

Summary: Unknowingly, you find out that your feet pics are roaming around twitter just to find out that your room mate runs the page.

Warnings: FOOT STUFF, foot job ( idk if thats a thing), foot fetish

a/n: There’s a lot of foot stuff so if that makes you uncomfortable then don’t read it. Btw if there’s other weird kinks/fetishes that you think a member would like just comment or message me.

Twitter is a scary place, you never had it until your friend from work told you to download it because there’s funny memes. So when you downloaded it you were not surprised that there were weird foot pictures. See you were not one to shame someone who has weird fetishes but this was different. Oddly enough the picture had the same pedicure as you and the same tattoo on your ankle. Deciding to go on the page you notice there were pictures of your feet, the black heels you owned were there too.

Is someone spying on you? There is a sudden noise from the kitchen and you jolt in fear, holding the phone close to you as you walk towards the noise. The fear disappears when you see your roommate slash friend Taehyung eating pickles from the jar. “ Hey, wanna go to the park? We can have a little picnic,” Taehyung munches the last part before putting it back in the fridge. “ What’s wrong?” He notices your worried face.

Shaking your head, not sure if you should tell him your worries. Taehyung would probably freak out more than you, he’ll probably call the FBI to install high tech cameras around the apartment. “ Nothing,” you smile. “ I’m down but I’m making the food. Last time you just packed onions and capri suns,” you move him aside to pull out bread to make sandwiches.

He gives you his signature boxy smile, “ Sorry you don’t have an acquired taste,” he shrugs.

---

When you guys get back from the park you immediately lay in your bed tired from all the running that Taehyung made you do. It was supposed to be a relaxing picnic, however Taehyung forced you to play tag with the children in the park. When you first met Taehyung you thought he was a quiet and stuck up person because of his emotionless face whenever he was sitting with people. But that all changed when you got to know him better, he was just a funny and weird person but in a good way. Needless to say you don’t ever want him to move out because he is just a fun person to have around.

The ping rings loudly on your phone, you get a message from your mom. You quickly text her back and then go on twitter to the foot fetish page to inspect it more. Maybe DM the person to see where they get these pics. Your eyes widen when you see a new picture that was uploaded a few minutes ago, your feet in your sandals that you just bought last week. Along with the picnic blanket that you use when you go to the park with Taehyung.

Jumping out of your bed you run to Taehyung’s room to demand answers from him, but he is currently playing Uno by himself. “ I’m trying to practice so I can win next time we play with Jungkook and Namjoon,” he places the green card down.

“ It’s Uno. The easiest game in the world, it was literally made for children,” you groan in frustration. Taehyung shrugs then goes back to his game and places the reverse card to the pile. “ That’s why I’m not here,” you shake your head. “ Why are my feet on a fetish page on twitter?”

His sharp eyes widen, you can’t tell if it’s due to shock or confusion. The brows are covered from his wavy black hair, lips parted in an ‘oh’ shape. “ Okay, don’t get mad. I have been posting you foot pics in exchange for money,” he puts his hands up when you throw his pillow at him.

“ Taehyung! I can’t believe you,” you sigh. You became a renowned foot fetish star without any acknowledgment. What if people start to recognize you on the streets? Now you can never wear sandals.

“ I should’ve told you but I knew you were going to be against it,” Taehyung gets, ignoring the Uno cards and going up to you. His large hands come together holding them in front. “ If you want to take me to the police I understand. But make sure you feed the racoon that’s been secretly hiding in the garden shed,” he gives his puppy eyes. You can’t ever get mad at Taehyung, no matter what. It’s like he has this power that doesn’t make anyone upset.

Sighing, you gently push his hands down to his sides, “ I’m not turning you in,” you say. His remorse features immediately vanish, now becoming gleeful, as he engulfs you in a bear hug. If he’s getting paid you wonder how much he is making off of your feet. “ So how much money have you made so far?” The bed sinks as you sit down on it.

Taehyung's finger scratches his head, trying to remember how much the thirsty people on Twitter paid. “ Hmm, like a couple hundred. I’m saving the money so we can get a new tv.”

The TV you guys had was found by Taehyung who was riding his bike around the neighborhood. An old man was giving it out and Taehyung called you excitedly asking you to bring your car so you can bring it back home. Upon your arrival you see an old blocky Sony tv that doesn’t even have an HDMI port. Taehyung convinced you that it was vintage and it would match the interior design of the apartment. “ Do people actually like that stuff ?” You ask while looking at your feet. What a weird thing to fetishize you think to yourself.

Taehyung's hair floofs as he jumps back on the bed grabbing his phone that’s beside you. “ Yes. A lot of people,” he quickly unlocks his phone. “ Look, this man was willing to pay sixty dollars for you to have a foot massage,” you look at the DM. “ There’s also other requests. Like you wearing heels, stockings, and other weird things,” he shrugs putting his phone away.

People pay money for this, and you guys do need some money. It wouldn’t hurt to have a little extra cash for stuff. No one is ever gonna find out that it’s your feet. “ Let’s keep doing it,” you look at Taehyung, whose eyes widen at your words.

“ Really?” Taehyung asked in a serious tone. Wanting to make sure that you actually want to do it not because of his stupid mistake.

“ Yeah, it would be nice to have extra cash,” you nod your head.

----

“ This feels really weird,” you flinch at the stickiness of the honey pouring on your feet. Taehyung makes a hand motion for you to keep pouring it as he films it on his phone. Your face is not in view so no one can see the weird faces you're making as the stickiness goes in between your toes. Just another weird request from a person. This guy is paying sixty dollars for this, so who cares that you are pouring honey on your feet.

Taehyung nods and gives the okay sign, ending the video. “ I feel bad that the bees are dying and we are wasting their precious honey on your feet,” he pouts before leaving to retrieve a wet towel. He tosses it to you so you can wipe the honey off before walking on the floor.

The wet towel doesn’t help much so you decide to wash it. “ Yeah, we should visit the bee sanctuary to give our condolences,” you joke as you run to the bathtub to wash your feet with soap.

“ That would be nice,” Taehyung smiles watching you wash your feet. He hears you laugh, “ Oh you were kidding,” he laughs along with you. The phone pings and he grabs it from his back pocket, looking at the DM’s. ***800 dollar request *** Taehyung reads loudly, eyes widening at the words. He reads the request to himself, heart beating fast because this is actually a sexual request. Also because this is the most someone is willing to spend on a video. For the past month it's only been under the hundreds that people spent on your feet.

Your voice startles him, “ What are they asking for you?” Turning off the faucet you give your undivided attention to him.

Taehyung gulps then scratches the back of his neck, “ Uh- he wants you to use your feet to fondle someone’s dick,” he coughs at the end. There’s a silence that washes over you guys. “ Yeah, I can just decline-”

“ Would I be fondling you?,” you ask. Taehyung tucks his phone back in his pocket then sits next to you.

Taehyung puts his hand on your shoulder, his eyes are looking at you seriously. “ We don't have to do this.”

It’s 800 hundred dollars that you guys would be missing out on.“ I want to do it. Our faces won’t be showing, right?” You really don’t mind just as long as Taehyung is comfortable doing it with you.

Taehyung exhales, nodding his head, “ Yeah no faces.” His heart beats faster as he looks at your feet.

***

“ Let me wash my feet one more time,” you go get up to use the bathroom one more time. Taehyung tugs you back down the bed.

“ You already did it twice before you came to my room,” he lets out a chuckle. “ Don’t be nervous,” he sits on his chair. He grabs your foot gently placing it on his thigh. Large hands rubbing your ankle to calm you down. “ I’ll give you a foot massage and we’ll go from there,” he says softly. There’s a different mood between the two of you. It’s not like the usual playful mood that you guys have. It's heavier, if that makes sense.

Nodding your head, his big hands rub your feet. Rolling out any tension on the center of your foot, you sigh not used to this kind of attention in that area. His hands are like magic making all the stress on your foot disappear. At one point you close your eyes in relaxation feeling your body get lighter. Immediately your eyes open when you feel lips kissing your ankle, his soft lips leave a few more kisses as your eyes meet his dark eyes. Looking down you see a hard on “ Taehyung,” you whisper. He puts your foot back on his thigh, “ Should I start recording?,” you ask. Your hands shake, bringing his phone into your hands.

Taehyung lets out a quiet hum, indicating for you to do so. You hold the phone tightly, pressing the record button. Last night you did some research looking at feet groping and you feel kind of confident. Hopefully, you don’t embarrass yourself or make Taehyung immediately walk out of the room. Your right foot teasingly goes up and down his thigh, looking carefully at Taehyung’s reaction. He lets out a groan when you get close to his bulge but goes to the other thigh doing the same action as before.

“ Baby please,” Taehyung's voice is hoarse. The pet name surprises you in a good way but you quickly remind yourself that he is only calling you that so your name won’t be exposed. His hand goes to your leg, running his fingers against your calf. Listening to his request you trail your foot to his bulge, lightly brushing the tip of your toes. He lets out a breathy exhale, looking down at your foot taunting him.

You never thought you’d be into this, maybe it is the position. There’s some kind of power you hold as you get to dictate whether you should make him feel pleasure by the pressure of your foot. The way Taehyung’s breath quickens when you apply more pressure, his eyes giving you a sultry look. Your foot applies more pressure, toes spreading feeling the outline of his bulge. Doing slow circles, trying to feel more of him. His hand tightens on your leg, “ Fuck, right there,” Taehyung closes his eyes for a quick second. The hardness of his cock turns you on, you feel the thickness of it beneath your foot and you know he probably has a big cock.

“ Does my foot feel good, baby?” You condescendly ask. His eyes look into yours surprise of your tone and question. His jaw clenching, looking hot and bothered, a new look that you want to store in your memory. “ Look at you getting turned on just by my foot,” you tsk in disappointment. Applying more pressure you arch your eyebrow still expecting an answer from him.

Taehyung hisses in pleasure, “ Yeah, your foot feels good,” he tosses his head when you rub your foot harder up and down his clothed cock. “ It feels to fucking good,” he whispers more to himself.

“ Take your cock for me baby,” you command him. Taehyung gives you a face of relief immediately taking his cock out of his pants and briefs. And you were right about his cock being thick and big. Now you just want to feel it in your hands and your mouth, actually everywhere. The precum is leaking, begging to be touched. The heel of your foot meets his hard cock, and he flinches but then immediately going back to your touch. “ Spit on it,” you look down, indicating Taehyung to spit on his cock.

He groans loud at your assertion, not used to this. Taehyung never sees this side of you, having a higher authority. You're usually compliant and listen to whatever he wants to do. He follows your words, spitting on his cock, as he watches your two feet come together cupping the thickness of his cock. Jerking him up and down.“ Shit shit,” he curses at himself for wanting to come right now.

“ It’s not even my pussy and you're already a moaning mess,” you chuckle to yourself. His eyes are downcast to the slow movement of your feet. The small breathy moans are getting louder, and you love the sound of it.

If your feet are this good he can’t imagine what your pussy would feel like. He wants to desperately ask if he can fuck it later but he puts his thoughts away trying not to moan your name loudly. The movements get faster and he thinks this is the fastest time he has ever come. “ I’m going to come baby. Can I come please?” He looks up at your face, and notices a dark gaze, and he wants to kiss the evil smirk off your face.

You wouldn’t be surprised if you creamed your pants right now at the sight of his begging and climaxing. “ Mmm, so soon?” You teasingly ask. Taehyung shamelessly nods, his hands clenching at nothing. “ Come all over my feet dirty boy,” your eyes watch carefully at his pretty bottom lip getting bitten by his teeth.

Before you know it Taehyung is tossing his head back, “ Fuck,” he lets out a loud drawl. His head Adam apple is bobbing and his pretty collar bones are getting more exposed. White spurts all over your feet and you keep fondling him until he holds your ankle in place. He finally looks down at the mess he made, surprised at how much he come.

You stop recording, placing the phone down the bed. There’s a towel next to you, you pull your feet towards you wiping the come off your feet. “ Can you kiss me?” Your head snaps to Taehyung’s question. His eyes don’t have the same lustful gaze but some hint of fondness.

Nodding your head, you are about to kiss him until you realize that you ate sushi about an hour ago. Fearing that he probably can taste it from your mouth you pull back shaking your head. “ Let me brush my teeth real quick,” you try to walk to the bathroom. Until Taehyung laughs brightly pulling you back and pecking your lips softly.

The kiss makes you swoon and want to kiss him more but he pulls away too soon. “ Why did you want to kiss me?” You ask him not wanting to get your hopes high. But your heart is already beating hard because it’s Taehyung who kissed you.

“ I like you,” Taehyung shrugs nonchalantly. “ Why did you agree to kiss me?” He asks you while holding your hand.

“ I like you,” you do the same gesture as him. Taehyung smiles and leans towards your lips and you clothes your eyes expecting a kiss until you feel him push you back. Opening your eyes you see him pull his shirt over his head, and you're surprised to his slightly defined chest and v line.

“ Even when I annoy you and cause nothing but trouble for you?” Taehyung looks down at you biting his bottom lip, a nervous tick he has.

You smile bringing his large hand down, pecking it lightly, “ That’s the best part though,” then pulling him down to kiss him.

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immaturityofthomasastruc · 3 years ago

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IOTA Reviews: Sole Crusher

Well... It's finally here... the episode introducing the new bee hero. And what do you know? It looks like I was right about how the new character would be portrayed.

It's kind of funny how I made predictions exaggerating what could happen, and they were surprisingly accurate. Isn't that funny?

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Let's just get into the seventh (chronologically the seventh and the seventh episode in the season to air after “Mr. Pigeon 72”) episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fourth season: Sole Crusher. Damn, I hate that a pun this clever was used for the title.

We get to the point pretty quickly with the first scene being Zoe arriving in Paris and getting a tour of the city. She asks to stop at the Dupain-Cheng bakery, where she meets Marinette through some brief Unfunny Marinette Slapstick. The two quickly strike up a conversation.

I mean, it's not like Zoe is the sister of the absolute worst human being in existence, right?

Marinette compliments Zoe's shoes, and she points out that she designed them herself, and wrote every good thing anyone has ever said to her on them. But because she only has one friend, there's only a standard “I <3 U” on the left shoe.

So Zoe leaves the bakery and heads to Le Grand Paris where she meets her mother, Audrey. Unlike how she talked with Marinette, Zoe pretends to be just as snobby as Audrey in order to fit in. She then meets up with Chloe, who criticizes her for having poor person things like a phone without any diamonds embedded in it. And then she sees Zoe's shoes.

Look, that meme was already dated when it was referenced in Black Panther three years ago. Please don't try to reference memes in 2021, Miraculous Ladybug.

Chloe offers some golden heels while saying that those kind of shoes are for winners to wear and crush the losers underneath. This is the only episode to mention this kind of ideology, and believe me, it gets worse when Chloe decides to teach Zoe how to be like her.

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Get used to this. This episode is all about demolishing any semblance of likability in Chloe's character. Now that Astruc doesn't have to bother with writing Chloe with decency since she's not Queen Bee, watch as he turns her into an absolute caricature of her former self.

Yes, Chloe has ordered her father to give her a lot of frivolous things in the past, but she has been shown to care about him, like immediately rushing to hug him after she was safe in “Origins” and showing concern for when he was akumatized into Malediktator while apologizing for causing it. For the love of God, one of the first things she did when she allied with Hawkmoth at the end of Season 3 was to have him unto her parents' akumatization. I guess she only cared about her rich parents for their status and not because she actually loved them right?

Next up on the list of Chloe's positive qualities to ruin is her friendship with Sabrina.

🎶It's seven o'clock in the morning🎶 🎶I can't believe they made this scene🎶 🎶With the writing Astruc's enforcing🎶 🎶It's like he's trying to piss off me🎶

Yep, Chloe doesn't view Sabrina in a twisted view of friendship anymore. Now she's a slave. I'm not exaggerating by the way, he actually said that in a tweet.

THIS IS WHAT THOMAS ASTRUC ACTUALLY BELIEVES

Okay, so I guess all those times we saw Chloe playing superheroes with Sabrina in “Antibug” and “Miraculer” were just a slave driver playing with their property. Actually apologizing to Sabrina for getting her akumatized in those episodes? Protecting her from the Scarlet Akumas in “Ladybug”? She was just interested in keeping her slave around. I think Astruc may have slept through the slavery unit in his history class. Yes, Sabrina was mostly used as a joke to show how controlling Chloe could be, but there were still semblances of an actual friendship between the two.

Chloe arrives at school and introduces Zoe as her half-sister, despite being the same age and having the same mother. Because I guess we can add basic biology to the list of things the writers don't understand. Now that we're at school, Chloe's friendship with Adrien is next up on the chopping block.

Yep, despite being Adrien's only friend and making a big deal about valuing his friendship to the point where she threw a big party just to make sure he wouldn't leave her and risked cooperating with an Akuma to save him, now Chloe just sees Adrien as a rich meal ticket. Two of the earliest episodes to show Chloe had a more compassionate side to her, and they just undid them. Even as much as I hated the episode, “Felix” showed Chloe was willing to cooperate with Marinette and her friends just to find a way to cheer Adrien up on the anniversary of his mother's not-death.

For the love of God, Astruc, 1984 was supposed to warn people about what could happen if they rewrote the past, not encourage people to rewrite the past. He probably finished Animal Farm thinking Snowball really did work alongside the humans, didn't he?

Marinette comes up and Zoe pretends to hate her, leading Marinette to wonder why she did that. She texts Zoe (she gave her number to her earlier) and invites her to a concert on the Liberty, but Chloe finds out. Zoe thinks fast and pretends it's just so she can torment her more. Chloe then takes out a book listing all the ways she can torture Marinette. I wonder if this is a metaphor for the writing process behind most of the episodes last season.

Zoe decides to go outside for some fresh air, and Andre comforts her. Funny how Andre bends over backwards to give Chloe whatever she wants, yet he's willing to actually talk to Zoe like an actual parent. Andre tries to cheer Zoe up, but she talks about her past where she had to put on an act so she would be liked, but (bet you've never heard this before) she just wants to be accepted for who she truly is. The surge of emotions is enough for Shadowmoth to akumatize her into Sole Crusher.

In addition to having one of the most clever puns for an Akuma name, I actually like Sole Crusher's design. Not only is it a good excuse to reuse Chloe's character design, it makes sense thematically, as Chloe was trying to mold Zoe into a copy of herself. The gold and diamonds also make sense given Chloe's love for shiny things. Her powers tie into the bizarre belief Chloe has about stepping on the winners. Whenever Sole Crusher kicks or steps on someone, she absorbs them and gets progressively bigger, making it easier to do so. While it's not cracking my top ten anytime soon, it's still an interesting character design.

Sole Crusher heads to the hotel to get Chloe, and she manages to get away pretty quickly. Maybe in an alternate universe, she's a track star? For some reason, she runs to the Dupain-Cheng bakery and then... Oh my God... pushes Marinette's parents so they get absorbed by Sole Crusher, before trying to do the same with Marinette.

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When has Chloe ever done something like that? Whenever she endangered someone during an Akuma attack, it was unintentional or a result of her naivety. She was only trapped in Pixelator's dimension because Adrien tried diving to save her, she only alerted Rogercop to Ladybug's presence because she eagerly called out for her, and during “Zombizou” she only tried to throw Sabrina towards the horde of kissing zombies once, and that was meant to highlight her growth. The only person to actually do stuff like this consistently is Lila, but I guess she got vaporized by Big Brother offscreen.

This episode is determined to make the audience hate Chloe by retconning everything about her character while portraying her as a complete monster. As bad as Chloe could get, she was never selfish enough to use anyone as a human shield. This kind of behavior honestly could be explained by saying Chloe was lashing out as a result of losing the Bee Miraculous permanently, but the events of the Season 3 finale aren't mentioned ONCE, not even in the next episode that introduces Queen Bee's replacement! How the hell can you set up the next Bee hero without explaining why the original needs to be replaced in the first place?! And trust me, I'm going to talk about Zoe replacing Chloe later.

Sole Crusher grabs Marinette in her hand, so the Horse Kwami, Kaalki, uses her power to teleport over to Adrien's house and inform him Ladybug needs help, meaning once again Adrien did nothing in this episode before becoming Cat Noir.

At the Liberty, Chloe offers more victims to Sole Crusher in the form of the band Kitty Section (consisting of Luka, Juleka, Rose, Ivan, and Mylene) and theatens the giant golden supervillain she can send her back to Paris, even though she's really not in a position to bargain right now. And she STILL continues to insult her. Do you hate Chloe yet? Come on, do you? The writers won't stop until you do.

After we see Sole Crusher's conflicted emotions, Marinette is set free by Cat Noir and transforms into Ladybug, immediately summoning her Lucky Charm, a shoehorn. They only learn Zoe's sneakers were where she were akumatized thanks to Chloe's ranting, so the episode unintentionally made Chloe save the day. Ladybug breaks into Le Grand Paris and breaks the sneakers where Zoe hid them, using the shoehorn to open a door. So Sole Crusher is de-evilized, Ladybug fixes the damage, and gives yet another charm to Zoe.

Afterwards, Zoe goes to the Liberty, apologizes for the act she put on, all while divulging to the audience her “tragic backstory”.

Of course, everyone welcomes her with open arms.

And right here is where the biggest problem I have with Zoe as a character. I normally hesitate to use this term given how often it gets thrown around when criticizing characters these days, but I really can't say anything else.

Zoe... is a Mary Sue.

For those who don't know, the term Mary Sue originated in a Star Trek fanfiction from 1973 satirizing several self-insert stories at the time. Most of these stories showed a beautiful young woman joining the crew of the Enterprise and immediately gaining the attention of the crew. Mary Sue parodied this character archetype by showing how much she was appreciated by Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock, the latter being driven to tears at her funeral despite his species being emotionless normally.

What does this have to do with Zoe? She has the exact same storyline as Mary Sue in the parody fanfiction. Her mere presence is enough to make Chloe act extremely out of character in an attempt to make her look better, and as soon as she apologizes while giving a frankly vague backstory, everyone just accepts her as their friend, and I mean everyone in the entire class. I'm sorry, but it just doesn't feel earned. Why was she bullied at her old school? What did her bullies have against her? What caused her to stop going along with her peers, and why did everyone turn against her? How the hell did the bullies who put cockroaches in another student's locker get no punishment while the victim was forced to transfer schools? It's an intentionally unclear backstory designed to make the audience feel sympathetic towards Zoe without actually doing anything else.

I want to ask anyone reading this who watched the episode a question: Outside of her backstory, what do we actually know about Zoe?

What is her personality like? She's nice? Socially awkward? We've never had a character like that in Miraculous Ladybug before! Sorry Marinette, Adrien, Juleka, Nathaniel, Mylene, and Marc, there's a new character with more personality than all of you combined!

What are her goals? She wants to be an actress? Great, but why? Even though there's no clear answer for why Marinette loves fashion, or why Alya loves journalism, or why Nino loves DJing, you can still see the passion in their lives when they do something related to their goals. Zoe only says she wants to be an actress, connecting it to her people pleaser backstory (and given how it ended, she must be a terrible actress), and in the next episode, she immediately gets the lead role in a student film.

When Mylene got the starring role in the movie in “Horrificator”, we at least got snippets of her acting skills in the same episode that established her desire to be an actress, which is also implied to be because she was inspired by her father in “The Mime”. She didn't just say she wanted to be an actress and got the leading role. She still had problems to overcome like her cowardice, which threw her own self-confidence into doubt. Here, Zoe just says she wants to be an actress, and is rewarded for no reason the very next episode.

Zoe basically exists only to be a foil to Chloe, and the writers had no idea what to do in terms of a personality, so they just dumped a bunch of extremely likable character traits onto her without thinking of how her character could come off. And like I said, she's a Mary Sue.

I'm not the only one who thinks this. I've seen a handful of posts on this very site calling Zoe a Mary Sue. In fact, I even asked another Tumblr user @anxresi to quote their take on Zoe being a Mary Sue, which I couldn't even top in terms of accuracy. They basically listed off five things that made Zoe a Mary Sue.

She has to have a ‘tragic backstory’ so all the other characters will fall in love with her. Usually within minutes, in the very first episode they’re introduced.

She has to have a supercute design so that the audience at home will fall in love with her. And if they don’t, they’re automatically dismissed as ‘haterz’ even if their objections are purely from a writing POV.

Her only flaw will be thinking too little of herself. “What, lil ol’ me as the Bee Miraculous holder? With my shyness, colorful shoes, chic beret and personalized pink strip in my hair? Gosh, who’d have thought it?”

The contrast to her half-sister will be a constant plot point, with Chloe always getting dumped on. “You see, kids? Bad things happen to bad people. But you see this super-sweet girl over here? She gets a free DAD. Instant FRIENDS. To star in her own MOVIE. The chance to be a SUPERHERO, even though she only arrived last week. Who cares if she has no depth, no personality and barely any reason for being in the show, apart from being a massive ‘Up Yours’ to all the Chloe fans out there?”

What about character development, Mr Generic Zag Guy? “Development? What’s that?! Zoe is already perfect as she is. The only ‘development’ she’ll receive is having her hair done in the first episode she’s introduced. Besides, That‘d’ word is banned here at Zag studios. Why do you think we abandoned Chloe’s stillborn arc so quickly? This is a KIDS show, why bother trying to create a complex character with more than one dimension?”

This is essentially who Zoe is. She's perfect, has no character flaws, has a cute design so the audience will love her already, and was designed only to replace Chloe as Queen Bee. That's all she is.

So the episode ends with Zoe feeling happy at all the new friends she made while we get one of the most blatant attempts of symbolism in the ending card I've ever seen.

See, look. While Marinette is happily talking with Zoe with the image of Ladybug next to them, Chloe is to the far left with an EVIL purple aura, showing how bad she is compared to how great Zoe is. Only a braindead moron would actually like Chloe over the super awesome and pretty Zoe!

I'll give my final thoughts on the episode in the next part where I analyze this plotline as a whole.

LINK TO “QUEEN BANANA” REVIEW

#immaturity of thomas astruc #iota #thomas astruc #thomas astruc salt #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug salt #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #adrien agreste #cat noir #chat noir #chloe bourgeois #queen bee #queen b #zoe lee #vesperia #sabrina raincomprix #andre bourgeois

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dottielovegood · 3 years ago

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ASMR - Chapter 4

Elriel fanfiction

About this fic:

Azriel can’t sleep Elain has an ASMR channel Match made in heaven (or you know, on youtube..)

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You can find chapter 1 here, chapter 2 here and chapter 3 here

Read this fic on AO3

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The following week, Azriel read Elain’s messages too many times to admit. He had answered her that “meat banjo” was, indeed, a vile word, and after that, they hadn’t really talked or texted.

He had saved her number as “Elain”, which had felt weirdly private. As if they were friends, which they were not. He was just her friendly helper, and she was his remedy for nightmares.

However, even though they didn’t know each other, Azriel felt an odd sensation in his chest when he thought about her. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought that he was missing her, which was absurd. But the tight little knot in his chest felt very much like longing. He tried to tell himself that this was weird and stupid. He knew that he had a crush on her (even though he hated to admit it), but he could also see that it was a pointless crush. She was an internet sensation, he was a boring IT guy. She was light and happiness and flowers, he was dark and brooding. She made people smile, he made people uncomfortable. And then there was the practical side of things. They had met on the internet. She probably lived on the other side of the country. Hell, she could even live in a different country for all he knew. She might have a partner already - it’s not like he asked. And, last but not least, she probably didn’t have a crush on him.

Before talking to her on the phone, he had just thought that she was a pretty girl that deserved kindness. But after their phone call, he had definitely developed a crush. Which was another reason why he hadn’t texted her. He didn’t want to bother her and he didn’t want to have this crush. He wanted to stop feeling like this for a girl he would never see in real life. Yet, every night before bed, he found himself on her youtube page, watching one of her many videos.

She uploaded a new video to Youtube every Friday, so when Friday came around, Azriel was itching to get home so he could go to sleep (he told himself that he was looking forward to sleeping and not to seeing her face).

However, he had an entire workday to get through first. The office was mostly an open landscape and Azriel’s desk was next to Cassian’s. The only person with his own office was Rhysand, which was fair since he was the owner of the company. At two in the afternoon, Rhys poked his head out of his office.

“You guys are still coming for dinner this weekend, right?”

“Yeah,” Azriel and Cassian answered in unison.

“I told Feyre that I would help her with the food,” Azriel continued.

Rhys looked like he was going to kiss Azriel. “Oh, god. Thank you, man. I was scared that we would have to repeat the Christmas dinner,” he said and shuddered.

Feyre hated to cook and Rhys did most of the cooking at home, but for some inexplicable reason, she always wanted to cook for holidays or family dinners. To everyone’s dismay. Christmas had been no exception. She had burned the turkey, added salt instead of sugar to the dessert and somehow managed to buy the wrong berries for her cranberry sauce. Luckily, Rhys had been prepared and bought a few frozen pizzas and some ice cream, so the day wasn’t that much of a disaster, but nobody wanted to brave Feyre’s cooking again.

“Why don’t you just cook?” Cassian asked without looking up from his screen.

“You know that she kicks me out if I so much as go near the kitchen when we have these family dinners. And since she started the hormone treatment, she has been a bit bitchy when she gets mad, so I’ll just do whatever she says.”

Azriel chuckled. He could tell from Rhysand’s tone that Feyre had been more than “a bit” bitchy.

“I don’t understand why she lets Azriel help, though…”

“Maybe because she knows that I’ll tell her to sit down with a glass of wine and a magazine, and then she can take all of the credit for the food?”

“Fair enough.” Rhys shrugged. “Just burn the food a little bit, or it won’t be believable.”

Cassian snorted. “No one would believe that something edible was made by your wife. Sorry.”

“She does make a great green smoothie, though,” Rhys grinned and held up his glass.

Azriel and Cassian looked at each other and had to bite their tongues to keep from laughing. The smoothie looked vile and smelled even worse.

After a few more minutes of small talk, Rhys went back to his office for an important phone call. “See you on Saturday,” he reminded them before closing the door.

Azriel and Cassian worked in silence for the remainder of the day.

When Azriel came home that evening, he made a quick pasta carbonara to eat in front of the TV. He was re-watching New Girl. It was his comfort show and absolutely nobody knew that he watched it (and had watched it multiple times). He would take that information with him to the grave. But it was fun and cute and sometimes he liked to imagine his friends as characters in the show. Cassian was probably Schmidt, because Nesta was one hundred percent Cece. Feyre was Jess, which meant that Rhys was Nick. And then there was Azriel. He wanted to say that he was a very cool character, but most characters on this show weren’t cool, and also, he was definitely Winston. Alone with a cat - sounds about right , Azriel thought to himself as he finished his bowl of pasta.

When the episode ended he just waited for the next to start. He didn’t have any plans for the night and nowhere to be. His phone vibrated where he had left it on the kitchen counter. He ignored it, feeling too lazy to get up. But then it vibrated again. With a sigh, he got up. He expected to see a text from Mor telling him to bring wine tomorrow, or maybe a strange meme from Cassian. What he didn’t expect was to see Elain’s name on his screen.

He could feel his heart in his throat as he read her messages.

Elain Hey, Shadowsinger. I’m uploading a new video soon. You should watch it!

Elain I hope that message didn’t sound creepy? I just meant that I think you might like it.

Azriel’s hands were sweaty.

Azriel You didn’t sound creepy at all. Of course, I’ll watch your video. May I ask what I can expect from it?

Just seconds later, Elain answered.

Elain You can ask, but I might not tell ;)

Azriel Should I be worried?

Elain Haha, no! I think it turned out great. You were my inspiration :)

Azriel could feel himself blush. He had never been someone’s inspiration before.

Azriel So, I’m your muse? ;)

Oh god, was that too flirty? Was the winky-face too much? He wished that he could take back the message.

Elain For tonight, yes!

Azriel stared at his phone, unsure of what to answer. Luckily, Elain wrote to him again.

Elain What are you doing tonight?

Azriel Nothing. Just eating pasta and watching TV. How about you?

Elain That sounds amazing. I have been editing this video for hours so I’m just tired and cranky, haha. I have just ordered a pizza and I think I’ll just eat it in bed as soon as this video has finished uploading. What did you watch?

Azriel If I told you, I would have to kill you.

Elain Oh, intriguing! Is it trashy drama? I bet it’s Grey’s anatomy! Or maybe… Love Island?

Azriel stared at his phone. Did she really think that he would watch something like Love Island?

Azriel I watched New Girl, okay. Don’t tell anyone.

Elain Your secret is safe with me! Also, I love New Girl! Especially Winston!

It felt as if someone was squeezing Azriel’s heart.

Azriel Really? Which character would you be?

Elain My pizza is here so I am going to put all of my electronics in a different room and eat my pizza while reading a good book. It was great talking to you, Azriel! Please tell me what you thought of the video when you have watched it.

Elain Oh, and I would probably be Winston’s cat. lol

Azriel almost dropped his phone. If he had to be alone with a cat for the rest of his life, he would definitely want Elain to be his cat , he thought to himself. Which was a weird thing to think about someone you didn’t know. Azriel dropped his head to his kitchen counter and took a deep breath before replying.

Azriel It was great talking to you too, Elain. Enjoy your dinner and your book :)

She didn’t answer, but she didn’t have to. Azriel was going to be thinking about her for the rest of the night anyway.

30 minutes later, he got a notification telling him that Flower Girl ASMR had uploaded a new video. The video was called “ASMR for IT-guys”, which made him chuckle. He clicked the video and Elain’s beautiful face filled his screen again.

“Hello, my lovelies, lovelies, lovelies,” she whispered in her microphone. “This week’s video will be a bit different,” she continued, slowly moving her hands in front of the camera. “This video was inspired by my friend who recently helped me with some computer-related issues, issues, issues.”

Azriel loved it when she repeated words like that. And he liked that he somehow was a part of this video. It was something that connected them. Azriel paused the video and got into bed, knowing fully well that he would probably fall asleep soon if he kept watching this.

He pressed play again. “So, today, I thought that we would try a few computer-related triggers. I have a keyboard here,” she said and started typing on a keyboard that was out of view. “I thought that I would say a few trigger words while typing them.”

She smiled at the camera and pressed a few more keys. “I just wrote my friend’s name, but you won’t get to know who he is. But you know who you are. Thank you for your help!”

Azriel felt all warm inside.

She continued the video. “The first trigger word is IP address ”. Azriel laughed as she repeated the word multiple times while typing quickly.

“And then we have, laptop, laptop, laptop,” she continued, and Azriel felt shivers go down his spine when she popped the p’s.

Azriel had never thought that he would fall asleep to someone whispering “HTML coding” in his ears, but here he was. Relaxed and ready to sleep.

All thanks to Flower Girl ASMR.

━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━

The next day, Azriel texted Elain that he had loved the video. He waited for hours, but no reply came. Maybe she just wanted to repay me for helping her? Azriel thought. Maybe she would stop talking to him now that he had seen the video.

The thought of never talking to Elain again made him feel a new kind of ache in his chest. An ache he didn’t want to feel. This stupid crush needs to end, he muttered to himself as he started to scrub his kitchen counter. He tried to ignore the feeling by keeping busy. He cleaned his apartment and did some laundry before heading over to his friends’ house.

Rhys greeted him by the door and ushered him inside.

“She started cooking like 15 minutes ago, please save whatever can be saved,” he whispered to Azriel. Azriel chuckled and made his way to the kitchen. On the way there, he passed the living room and stopped to greet his friends. He saw most of them on a daily basis because of work, but he was still happy to see them. Cassian and his fiancée Nesta sat close together on one of the green velvet couches. On the opposite couch sat Mor and Amren. Mor was one of the journalists at Velaris News, and Amren was an editor. They had known each other for years. Amren and Rhys had studied together at university, and Mor was Rhysand’s cousin. Once upon a time, Azriel had a crush on Mor. One night after one too many glasses at Rita’s he confessed his feelings to her and she had looked horrified. He had expected her to tell him that she didn’t fancy him and leave it at that, but instead, she had blurted “I like girls!”

Azriel was the first person she ever came out to, and he had felt honored. He also knew now that they wouldn’t have worked out together in the long run (even if Mor had been straight). They were just too different. She was energetic and outgoing and fun, he needed peace and quiet. But she was still one of his very best friends.

Amren on the other hand, he didn’t know as well. She had always been very private, but she was damn good at her job.

“Where’s Varian tonight?” Azriel asked Amren, trying to make small talk.

“How should I know?” she answered quickly. “I’m not his mother.”

Cassian stared at her. “But you are his girlfriend?”

She shrugged. “I don’t like to label things.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. Amren had lived with Varian for the past two years, but she was still reluctant to tell anyone about their relationship.

Azriel made his way into the kitchen, and from what he could tell, he made it just in time.

“What are you making, Feyre?” he asked, because truthfully, he couldn’t tell.

Feyre turned around quickly as if he had startled her. “Oh, hi Az,” she said and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.

Something was burning.

“I was trying to make lamb chops with glazed carrots, roasted potatoes, and salsa verde, but…” she gestured to the stove, which looked like a disaster.

Azriel chuckled. “That’s ambitious.” He lifted the lid from one of the pots and could clearly see that she had overcooked the lamb 10 minutes ago. Also, why had she made them in a pot, and not a frying pan? It would be inedible.

The potatoes were still in the sink, unpeeled.

She gave him a strained smile. “Will you help me?”

“Of course.” Azriel put the grocery bag he had brought with him on the kitchen island. “On one condition.”

“Anything.” She sounded desperate.

“Please, for the love of god, let Rhys cook when we come over. You really don’t have to show off. You are good at many things, Feyre. But cooking is unfortunately not one of them.”

She nodded. “I know,” she sat down on one of the stools at the kitchen island and buried her face in her hand. “I just...I need to be able to cook when I become a mother.”

Azriel took her hand in his. “You really don’t. Nobody expect fathers to be good at cooking, so why should every mother be good at it? Honestly, just let Rhys cook while you play with the kids.”

She smiled at him. “That actually sounds amazing,” she sighed.

“Right?”

Azriel started to pull out some ingredients from the bag on the kitchen island. He held up the tomatoes and the spaghetti, “How about some pasta arrabbiata with burrata?”

“Sounds fancy.”

He shrugged. “Everything sounds fancier in a different language. It’s just pasta with a spicy tomato sauce, and burrata on top.”

“Whatever you make will probably be better than that mess,” she said and glanced towards the stove. Azriel couldn’t disagree.

“Probably,” he laughed and got to work. Azriel placed all the pots and pans in the sink and started chopping the vegetables for the sauce, and in just 30 minutes, dinner was served.

“You are my hero,” Feyre said and kissed his cheek as she carried the big bowl of pasta to the dining room.

Everyone had already gathered around the table, wine glasses in hand. As Azriel sat down, Mor poured him some wine.

“This looks amazing,” Nesta said and Cassian nodded in agreement.

“Thanks, Az helped a little,” Feyre said and winked at Azriel.

“Just a bit,” Azriel said and took a sip of wine.

The conversation (and wine) flowed freely, as it always did. Cassian and Nesta told them about their wedding plans, Mor gushed about Emerie, a girl she was dating, and Feyre told them about life as a high school art teacher. Azriel would never understand how anyone could choose to spend their days with teenagers, but Feyre loved it.

After two bottles of wine, Nesta and Mor were in an argument about which animal was the cutest.

“No, I am telling you, Sloths are cuter than any animal ever,” Mor exclaimed. “Have you seen their dopey little faces?”

“Sloths? Really?” Nesta looked at her as if she had suggested that the sky was green. “Red pandas are way cuter! They are cute and cuddly, Sloths just look like every single stoner I went to high school with.”

They had been at it for 10 minutes, which Azriel found to be quite impressive.

“Can you both just shut up?” Amren gritted out. “The cutest animals are koalas. They’re even cute when they fight. I am right, you are wrong. Please stop this meaningless discussion before I die from boredom.”

Nesta and Mor looked at Amren, and then at each other.

“We obviously have to see Koalas fight if you want us to end this conversation,” Mor said.

Nesta nodded. “Obviously. Give me your phone, Az,” she said and reached for his phone.

“Why do you need my phone?”

“Because mine is dead and yours is right there on the table. Also, your screen is big and we need to watch this in full HD, for obvious reasons.”

Azriel huffed a laugh, unlocked his phone, and handed it to Nesta.

She clicked the Youtube app, and then her face fell. She looked at Azriel as if he was an alien, and then she showed the phone to Cassian who looked at him with the same facial expression.

What the hell had they found?

He didn’t have anything weird on his phone. And he sure as hell didn’t watch porn on it.

“What?” Azriel asked, and Nesta turned the phone.

Fuck. The last video he had watched was still loaded on Youtube, and of course, it was Elain’s latest video.

“What the hell is this?” Nesta asked, almost looking angry.

Azriel didn’t understand why she found ASMR so wrong, but he desperately wanted to explain himself.

“Well, it’s ASMR. It’s kind of… well, it’s hard to explain, but it helps me sleep and– “

Nesta interrupted him before he could finish. “I know what ASMR is. I am wondering why you are watching Elain?”

Azriel stared at Nesta in shock. Did she also like Elain’s videos? But that wouldn’t explain the anger and confusion.

“Do you...know her?” Azriel asked.

“Yes, we went to university together. She’s our florist for the wedding. She was the florist at their wedding, too,” Nesta answered and gestured towards Rhys and Feyre. “Surely you have met her?”

Azriel could do nothing but shake his head in confusion. If he had ever met Elain, he would have known. You didn’t forget a face like hers.

“Please tell me you’re not stalking her like some creep, Az. Honestly, her last boyfriend was the world’s biggest asshat.”

“I’m not stalking her,” Azriel blurted out. “I’m just watching her videos to fall asleep, I promise. I– I didn’t know that you knew her.”

Nesta eyed him suspiciously. “So, is this just a coincidence?”

He nodded. “Weirder things have happened,” he said, trying to lighten the mood.

Nesta glanced at Cassian, and then back at Azriel. “Fine,” she said after a small eternity. “You would probably be cute together anyway. Sorry for insinuating that you would be a stalker.” She really did look remorseful. “That wasn’t fair. I’m just very protective of her. She’s the nicest girl, but she has horrendous taste in men.”

Azriel couldn’t answer, because his mind was still stuck on the fact that Nesta said that they would be cute together. He wanted to ask Nesta why she thought that. He kind of also wanted to ask her if Elain lived here in Velaris, and what her favorite movie was, and if she, by any chance, had a boyfriend. But he refrained, he didn’t want to sound like a stalker.

“So, what the fuck is ASMR?” Cassian asked. “Is it like porn?”

Before Azriel could answer, Rhys said “It’s like porn for your ears, I guess,” and then the entire table was laughing.

“Nesta,” Feyre said when the laughter had died down. “Does Elain still have that cute, little shop on River Street?”

“Mhm,” Nesta answered and took a sip of her wine.

Azriel could kiss Feyre for asking. And if he wasn’t mistaken, he could see her wink in his direction before raising her water glass to her lips.

Azriel walked home that evening with a million thoughts in his head.

He made a list in his head:

Elain lived in Velaris

River Street was literally a 10-minute walk from his home.

Nesta thought that they would be cute together

This meant nothing

She probably didn’t even like him back

Just because they were in the same city, it didn’t mean that they would ever meet.

This was still just a crush

And it was probably one-sided

She hadn’t even answered his latest text message.

And as if on cue, his phone vibrated in his pocket.

Elain I’m sorry that I didn’t answer you earlier. I’ve been at work all day. We had a leak in the basement and everything was just chaos. I haven’t even checked my phone until now.

He mentally scratched number 9 from his list.

Azriel No worries! Did you fix the leak?

Azriel checked the time on his phone: 23.30

Had she dealt with this leak until now?

Elain Yes! But so many flowers were ruined (I’m a florist) and I had to remake a few arrangements for a wedding that’s coming up.

Elain I’m sorry. You probably don’t care. I’m happy that you liked the video :)

Azriel wanted to tell her that he did care. That everything she said was interesting to him. He would probably even find her Starbucks order fascinating. But that bordered on stalker behavior.

Azriel Again, no worries! Sometimes when you’ve had a bad day, you just need someone to vent to.

Elain Exactly! Thank you for letting me vent :) This day is finally over!

There was a selfie attached to the last message.

Elain was standing in front of a big window surrounded by flowers. She was wearing a white, oversized shirt and her hair was in a messy bun. She looked tired but happy. She was giving him ‘thumbs up’ in the photo and through the window, he could see the Sidra. They were indeed in the same city. It made him both happy and nervous.

Elain Sweaty but happy to be heading home :)

Azriel received that last message when he walked through the door to his apartment. What the hell was he supposed to answer?

But then he thought back to Nesta’s words.

You would probably be cute together.

So he took a deep breath and gathered all his courage.

Azriel You still look beautiful though

He stared at his phone. Would she answer? Would she block him? Would she tell him to stop being a creep?

Elain Thank you :) What do you look like? I might have forgotten ;)

Okay. That was flirty. Even Azriel could tell that that was a flirty text message, and he was usually oblivious to such things. He quickly walked to his bathroom (it was the room with the best lighting). He checked his shirt (no stains) and mussed with his hair.

“Good enough,” he muttered, and snapped a selfie.

Before he could chicken out, he sent it to her.

Within seconds, he received a reply.

Elain Beautiful!

#elriel #elriel fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar #elain x azriel #elain archeron #azriel x elain #azriel

83 notes · View notes

taeyohonic · 4 years ago

Text

the trophy wife (m)

summary: the proposal doesn’t go as planned (established relationship, idol au, fluff and angst) pairing: min yoongi x fem!reader rating: explicit (18+) warnings (containing spoilers): swearing, robbery, pandemic, vomit, description of injuries and blood (very abstract), mentions of depression, insomina and periods, a hella lot ugly crying info: when i tell you that this is a super-duper fluffy piece, i’m not lying! it was 99% sweetness, so i added a little... angst (but like... only 10%) related work: the stalker | baby, what’s wrong? | favoritism (m) | the trophy wife words: 5.7k

“would you still love me if i became your trophy wife?”

yoongi snorts into his iphone, your grimace too adorable to be taken seriously.

“how bad are these papers?”, he asks. jungkook next to him is stealing curious glances at his hyung’s screen. to hear your voice so distressed makes him worry. you’re the best thing that ever happened to his member – your well-being comes right after his need for homemade kimchi.

“how… can they not know which products contain dairy? how yoongs?”, you vent eyeing the ungraded test in front of you.

“i ate… so much yogurt. the whole class did. we tested so much dairy products… like… so much. we drank all of the banana milk… how can they get this wrong?”, you continue. unbeknown to you, the maknae is now furrowing his brows at your words. wait a minute…

“noona, did you steal my banana milk last week?”, jungkook questions and moves closer to yoongi. before you can hide you see his big eyes joining your boyfriend on the screen.

“wow, jungkookie – your undercut looks so good. damn!”, you say. it’s not a total deflection; he does look extremely handsome after his haircut.

“noona, i thought i sleepwalked”, he whines, not caring for your compliment… right now.

“taehyung even made a meme out of it”, he complaints and you have the audacity to coo at him. yoongi tries to hide his smile, but he can see his reflection grinning on the screen.

“it was oppa’s idea!”

and now his smile freezes as jungkook moves his accusing glare to him. you don’t usually call yoongi by this name. and he’d be all too happy to shut you up in your shared bedroom. but now he and the boys are in the outskirts of seoul to film the newest music video, far away from you and your treacherous mouth.

“hyung?”, jungkook asks with the voice of a cheated wife ready to sign the divorce papers.

“it’s for the kids, maknae”, your boyfriend defends himself to which jungkook only huffs in irritation.

“there was a time when i was the kid – what happened? am i not cute enough anymore? noona? am i not the most adorable?”

his deer eyes stare at you – big, brown and full. you can’t help but to take a screenshot of these two – your rapper visibly done with his member and jungkook in the middle of a banana milk breakdown. you’ll have to frame this picture.

“you’re the most adorable thing there is, jungkookie”, you reassure him. yoongi just snorts when he sees the faintest flush on his bandmate’s face.

“that’s enough praise for him, baby. save it for your students.” there is no humor in the smile you send him. after a beat of silence in which you burry all your frustration deep inside the pits of your stomach, you try to change the subject.

“how is nature?” they’ve been in the woods for weeks, completely closed off from all the city drama. you’ve never seen jimin so excited to drive – while namjoon’s sour face reflected how much the latest failed drivers test bothered him.

“jin-hyung nearly died in the water today. it was epic”, your friend instead of your boyfriend answers and you have to shift a giggle at yoongi’s eyeroll.

“be gone, maknae”

rudely blunt – just how you liked your partner. jungkook just winks at you in a silent goodbye and gets up. he’s nearly out of the picture before his upper body shoves against the rapper. his nose is way too close to the screen and you’d be worried about his eyes – if you didn’t know how often the singer spends his nights in front of his computer.

“noona, you’ll replace the milk, right?”

“jungkook”, yoongi growls in responds. the boy is not acknowledging his colleague, so you give in and nod.

“of course, kookie. it’s already waiting in the fridge for you to come back”, you tell him. as soon as these words leave your mouth, the maknae is satisfied and gone.

“you don’t have to baby him that much, ____”, yoongi says while moving the phone closer to his face. you can see the dark circles under his eyes better now.

“what’s keeping you up at night, yoongs?”, you ask instead of answering his complaint. the rapper smiles faintly at the screen.

“you, baby, always you” yu snort and let yourself lie down on the couch – the papers can wait another day, or a lifetime.

“i wish”, you say truthfully. you’d sell one of your kidneys to relax with the boys far away from the pandemic madness. after having yoongi to yourself for two weeks non-stop, you are way too spoiled. even though your legs are deeply grateful for this recovery time, you miss the constant calm radiating off of your boyfriend.

“i’ll be back soon, baby”, he reassures you and draws lines across the screen. your cheeks look colorless and it worries him just as much as his lack of sleep bothers you.

“make it sooner”, you mutter and close your eyes when you hear his chuckle in responds.

“have you had dinner yet?”, yoongi asks but you don’t want to open your eyes, not ready to face his criticism.

“nah, i’ll wait till sungho gets here.” you don’t need your eyesight to feel his disapproval.

“that’s not very socially distance of you, ____.” yeah, no baby anymore. still, you remain shut off.

“he’s just a friend. one friend. one work friend. one work friend that needs help with the new school cloud. the online grading program is a pain in the ass.”

“and why do you have to do that at six on a friday night in our home?”, yoongi notices the tiniest of smiles on your lips as he mentions your shared home. he, too, loves your little flat with a pandora of memories.

“because i am a loner and don’t have anything better planed for the weekend and my boyfriend is camping in the woods and oh – there is a global pandemic”, you snort and open your eyes to watch your boyfriend’s tensed expression.

“if you’re a loner – what am i then? a stone?”, yoongi asks sarcastically.

“maybe a boulder”, you shoot back with a soft smile that melts his jealousy away… nearly.

“just… don’t let him touch my stuff”, yoongi orders. he’d trade his own maknae to be the one at the other side of your door when he hears a distant knocking sound.

“that’ll be him, yoongs”, you say and move off the couch with as much dignity as one can muster after a whole work week and no motivation left in the bones.

“promise to call me back when you’re in bed?”, your boyfriend pleads, reluctant to let you go. with him going on world tours this phone conversation isn’t your first and it won’t be the last. still, his small request fills you with yearning.

“of course”, you promise, eyes still on him as you open the door without a second thought.

a fist connects with your skull while your eyes widen at the sight of two ski-masked men. the pain is instantly blinding your senses and you start to scream with tears clouding your vision. you fall to the floor before they push their way inside your home. one of them, muscle clad with wide shoulders kicks you in the stomach just to move you out of their way. the other, smaller in statue, crushes your phone with his shoe, the cracked screen frozen with your boyfriend starring at you in horror.

namjoon will never forget the bone chilling scream waking him this evening from his nap. he’s never heard yoongi’s voice filled to the brim with pain. not even registering his movements, he tumbles into the living room where is friend is still yelling your name, his face a mask of panic.

“hyung, what’s wrong?”, namjoon asks as footsteps behind him signal the arrival of his bandmates.

yoongi’s hands shake as his eyes stay fixed on the screen of his form. the leader moves first, not able to watch his friend losing himself. when joon steps behind yoongi’s figure to calm him down, a cold shower travels through his body. the screen shows you lying on the floor with red dripping from your mouth. your eyes are closed, but namjoon notices the uneven rise and fall of your chest – you’re breathing.

“jin, call the police”, the leader orders without turning around. his hands try to pry the phone out of yoongi’s fingers, but they are white with pressure and unforgiving. his lungs are still screaming and namjoon’s heart breaks at the scene.

“hyung, - just… calm down”, he says, not quite believing in his own words. he wouldn’t calm down either in yoongi’s position.

“what am i reporting?”, seokjin asks, close enough that the question answers itself as soon as he peaks over yoongi’s shoulder.

“i’d like to report a break-in – there is a person, hurt. the address is-“

yoongi can’t hear his oldest colleague, the voice drowned by his worry for you. at first, he doesn’t register namjoon’s chest pressing behind his back, but then his body shudders when the fellow rapper hugs him from behind.

“hyung, we – sh – it’s gonna be okay. it’ll be okay, she’s okay… we… you have to calm down, yoongi”, namjoon sooths his friend of ten years and rocks them both from side to side.

“taehyung, call the building manager – there should be security in the foyer”, seokjin commands the young man who watches the scene in front of him passively. as soon as he hears his name though, the singer moves to grab his iphone with shaky fingers.

“look, hyung, she’s awake”, joon points out and yoongi shakes his head to move these stupid tears out of his vision. indeed, your eyes are open as you try to even your breathing. it looks like you are crying as well and yoongi has never felt this kind of searing pain before. to see the love of his life in tears and burglars destroying your home while he is in the middle of fucking nowhere, makes him sick. when he sees you trying to get up, only to drop back onto the floor, his stomach turns. yoongi vomits onto his lap and namjoon has to hold his friend upright as he loses consciousness.

you’ve never been this glad for the heavy painkillers your boyfriend has tugged away in the bathroom due to his immense shoulder problems. the icepack pressed to your forehead cools for body down; still, you are shaking with adrenaline as you watch the security guard pace in front of you.

“yes, sir, yes – no, of course sir, negative sir”, he looks at your shaking form and grimaces before answering. “minor injuries”, the guard holds his phone further away when his caller answers a few decibels too loud.

“the paramedics are on their way”, he responds, not daring to look you directly in the eye. after another game of “yes and no”, the security ends his call.

“how are you, ma’am?”, the man in uniform asks, but remains standing a few feet away. when he first got here after receiving a hectic message from his boss, you were crying on the floor – alone. his colleague is already checking the floors, while another is combing through the surveillance footage. it’s been five minutes and you still look like a ghost.

his instructions were crystal clear – don’t touch the subject. but his heart clenches when he sees your trembling form trying to calm yourself down.

before you can answer him, two paramedics arrive through the door. they zero in on the blood drying across your forehead. their hands press gently against your skin and ask you questions you try to answer. soon, they move you to a standing position, with your head wound dressed and your vitals checked.

“we’ll take you to the hospital, ma’am”, the older woman explains. with a few steps you are at the door – there, right on the threshold where your nightmare began half an hour ago, stands sungho, chinese take-out and laptop in hand. your fellow teacher looks at you with widened eyes.

“_____ - what the hell?”, he curses and nearly drops his food when you smile at him – your teeth unbeknown to you still tinted red.

“are you her partner?”, the paramedic asks.

“just a friend”, he answers, not letting you out of his sight.

“we have to get her to the hospital – will you accompany us?”, the medic questions and sungho nods. your little crowd moves to the elevator and the security guard closes your door with a soft click. the police will be here soon, he thinks as he watches your beaten figure step onto the elevator.

“this cannot be the way to do this, ___”, sungho exclaims while you are staring at the iv-drip connected to your arm in distress. you hate needles.

the hospital’s v.i.p room is normally reserved for celebrities, but they made an exception for you, the girlfriend of min yoongi. sejin’s hunched form outside the room might have played a role in that. bangtan’s manager arrived half an hour ago, worried and disheveled. his posture calmed when the doctors reassured him, you’d be okay. now, he’s waiting for seven idols in various stages of panic to arrive.

“it’s the way this works – just… do as i say, okay?”, you huff. there is a part of you not willing to let the last hours crash into you; not without your partner here. so, you’ve spent the last sixty minutes showing him how to use your new school cloud – the easy way, not the right one.

“but the course still doesn’t show in my settings”, he whines, and you roll your eyes while pushing cold pad thai in your mouth. the rich flavor appeases your hungry stomach and you swallow the take-out down in one breathe. songho is a godsend for bringing the ordered food with him to the hospital. it’s a much-needed distraction from the horror of your cracked rib and light concussion.

“you have to set the course to ‘official’ – it’s still private”, you explain with another mouthful of oily noodles slurring your speech.

sungho’s brows furrow in concentration when you hear heavy footsteps in the hall. the boys are there – and they are not slowing down.

before sejin can even try to greet the idols, yoongi pushes through the door – all six of them only a breath behind.

the second you see him, the tears start without your consent. yoongi looks crazy – his eyes gleam with insanity – as he sucks in the hospital air through his mask.

you’re here. you’re alive. you’re safe. you’re here. he’s here. you are both here. his thoughts are running in circles – not ready to slow down, not ready to expand.

your boyfriend resembles a statue; just standing in front of the hospital bed. his face screams for help and it breaks you as the first cry leaves your throat. in a flash yoongi is moving to you, bumping into a shocked sungho. his finger brush against your wet cheeks like you’d break under his touch, while your body collapses.

“baby”, he whispers – the first word his members have heard since he regained consciousness.

“yoongs”, you answer and throw your arms around his neck. the smell of vomit and sweat makes your nose crunch up, but your boyfriend hugs it all away. his forearms rest on each side of your head – supporting his weight – as he lets you hold on to him, the boyfriend who was playing idol life in the woods instead of being at home with his girlfriend. even through his mask he can breathe in your unique smell, clouded by disinfectant.

“noona”, the youngest whimpers from the doorway. jungkook is silently crying, his mask discolored from the tears. every member looks at you with sorrow, the younger ones visibly not as professional at keeping their emotions together. namjoon looks like he’s aged a decade, but there is a small smile pressing his eyes together behind his mask. you try to reciprocate his smile, but yoongi’s head his pressing against your cheeks with vigor.

“why don’t we give them some space?”, sejin says to which your coworker nods instantly. he’s your friend for sure – but this is a level of intimacy he’s not willing to share with you.

the members need more convincing as hoseok tries to gently pull jungkook back. the maknae vehemently shakes his head, not ready to leave you and yoongi alone.

“we’ll wait right outside, kookie”, seokjin coax him out of the room. he’s still reluctant so go, but jimin’s small body pushes against his back. soon, namjoon closes the door, leaving you alone.

your tears won’t stop and you try to move closer to your boyfriend – you want to feel him all around you. without words yoongi understands your need and presses his body down on yours. there is a sharp pain when his stomach meets your fractured rib.

“ah”, you breathe, hurting. yoongi extracts himself from you in a flash; every fiber of his being furious at your injury.

“baby”, he calls out as his fingers ghost across your ribcage.

“it’ll… it’ll heal soon”, you say timidly.

“how could this happen, baby?”, he asks, still more interested in your upper body than your eyes.

“i-i i should-d have che-checked the door before, ah before answering”, you whimper, ready to face the blame.

with yoongi’s lifestyle comes a certain level of danger. you’ve been trained to be more cautious with everyday things like grocery shopping, inviting new friends over, answering the door without checking the cam.

“no, no, no, no – baby – no…”, he hushes you. “they should have never been able to pass the foyer, nor should they have been able to move to the penthouse level.”

“i-i was so scared”, you admit, linking your fingers with his and pressing them close to your still beating heart.

“i know, baby, me too”, yoongi soothes you and flexes his fingertips against your warm skin.

“i’ve never felt this worthless… you got hurt… right in front of me… and i … i couldn’t do anything.” his voice shakes with emotions and slowly his stare moves to your bruised face. the madness has nearly died in his eyes – but there is still so much pain hidden behind his brown iris.

“i- i could have lost you”, he whispers darkly, speaking a truth into reality he is not ready to face. your crying has stopped now that the both of you are calmer and connected.

“nah, never, remember?”, you say with some form of humor behind your words. “i’m your trophy wife. trophy wives don’t die. first, they’d kill their rich husband”, you remind your boyfriend of your conversation half a lifetime ago.

“it’d be an honor getting murdered by you, baby.” his mask is gone in a flash and then you feel the warmth of his lips against your temple. “just let me finish my third mixtape first.”

“don’t move, noona”, jungkook pleads as the warm sunlight irritates your skin. the fresh air is caressing your body while the youngest tries to finish his painting. trees surround the both of you, resting on a soft picnic blanket. it’s the first time since your release from the hospital that yoongi has left you out of his sight. granted, you’re still not totally alone with the strongest bangtan member watching over you like a hawk. but it’s definitely a much-needed break from yoongi’s fretting.

after nearly throwing a tantrum in front of his manager und some staff members who wanted to continue the filming of their new “in the soop” show, all the members knew they’d have to handle their rapper with care. leaving you alone wasn’t an option, so taehyung and seokjin packed your suitcase with essentials and after your doctors determined you ready to rest at home, all eight of you moved back to the chill vacation home in the middle of nowhere.

the last few days have been difficult – the filming staff getting more and more irritated because the members flocked around you 24/7. sejin had to come up with a different schedule allowing every bandmate time to reconnect with you as well as time to do their work. only yoongi was allowed to not leave your side most of the day – him working on the new music being the cover for his absence.

but after days of your boyfriend breathing down your neck, you’ve had enough. so, now yoongi is out on the water with seokjin fishing, while you’re spending time with jungkook.

“when did the police say they are coming?”, you ask the painter. his nose is crunched in concentration as he tries to outline your hipbone.

“they should be here before lunch – if your boyfriend even manages to catch some lunch”, he answers. you snort, messing up his grasp of your proportions.

“i do have faith in seokjin’s ability.” jungkook chuckles but keeps his eyes on your drawing. you look so delicate, so soft, he can’t believe they nearly lost you.

“i got robbed – i didn’t die, kookie”, you read his mind as his eyes darken.

“you got hurt”, he responds through clenched teeth.

“and they’ll pay for that”, you vow. the police had called this morning with the news of your robbers being captured during another crime. you’re still not sure how the officers can be so sure they’re the same criminals, but you’re eager to close this chapter with your statement later that day.

your painting session gets interrupted by namjoon. “the detectives are already here, ____.”

jungkook is by your side in a flash and together with the leader the both of them help you up. the rib is healing and harsh movements still hurt. yoongi had a near meltdown when you tried to ride him yesterday morning only to topple over in pain.

“yoongi and jin don’t have a signal out in the water – but they won’t be long”, namjoon explains and guides you indoors to meet the two officers.

“ms. ______, a pleasure to meet you”, the older policeman says in greeting. the younger one only shifts uncomfortable when he sees you flanked by two famous idols.

“thanks for coming all this way”, you respond and bow slowly, not to put extra pressure on your rib.

“is there somewhere we could talk – uhm- privately?”, the old man asks and you show them to one of the office rooms in the back. jungkook reluctantly leaves your side and joon only squeezes your hand in passing.

“just holler when you need us, _____”, he says before ordering the maknae to clean the art supplies.

with both officers sitting across from you, you nervously fiddle in your chair.

“the two intruders were caught this morning while pawning off their haul”, the younger policeman states and shows you a surveillance picture of two familiar men. their figures alone invoke iced fear in your heart, and you push the picture out of your sight. after a moment of silence, you collect yourself enough to absorb the information.

“what did they steal? i – i didn’t report anything missing, sir”, you question. sure, they trashed the painting yoongi brought for you during your last vacation in italy. and some cloths were thrown across the bedroom – but there was nothing stolen. you even signed your statement last week before leaving for the woods.

the officers look at you like you’ve grown a second head.

“miss, you reported the item missing days ago. there is even a harsh voicemail left with your fiancé demanding a swift investigation.” you shake your head at their words – no, you didn’t.

“which item?”, you ask the men with narrowed eyes. you’d been off the pain meds for days now. but to call yoongi your fiancé? clearly, they’d switched up cases. the older officer opens his briefcase to retrieve a plastic bag with a… ring in it.

“in my days, my wife would have never forgotten about her engagement ring”, the man snickers as you watch the cold metal in front of you. it’s beautiful – it’s so yoongi, you wouldn’t be surprised if he himself crafted the asymmetric diamond set on roughened silver.

you’d dreamed of this moment for over a year – to lay eyes on the ring cementing your future in stone – or diamonds.

never would you have imagined it to be this tainted with two officers starring you down and the jewelry wrapped carelessly in plastic – a piece of evidence – while your boyfriend is fishing with kim seokjin.

“uhm”, you hesitate as emotions swirl around your brain. he was going to propose? to you?

“i had half a panic attack carrying it around with me the whole day – that thing could pay off all my debt, as well as my kid’s college fees”, the officer jokes, still not recognizing your surprise as genuine.

“uhm”, you try again to form words.

“we’ve all the papers here for you to sign; after that we’ll be ready to get out of your hair… for now”, the youngest states and moves different documents across the table. they lie next to yoongi’s engagement ring – your engagement ring.

“uhm”

giving up on forming a coherent sentence, you move along and sign your name on the different protocols. the paper from your insurance company makes your heart still – reading all the zeros on the price of your ring.

this… is by far the worst engagement set up you’ve ever heard of. your hands shack and your signature looks just terrible, but it’s enough for the two detectives. they still don’t seem to find your reaction odd as they collect their stuff and bid you fare well. like a zombie you get up and follow them to the front door, your ring clutched between your fingertips.

jungkook and jimin are waiting for you next to the foyer and jump at the sight of your pale face.

“everything alright?”, jimin asks and places a protective hand on your back. your slow nod does not convince them and their eyes sour at the policemen.

while the younger officer takes a step back, the oldest just chuckles at your idol friends.

“all is well, kids”, he sooths them. then both bow to you and you can only muster an awkward smile, the jewelry heavy in your hand.

“happy wedding planning, ms. ____”, he winks at you before they leave. the soft click of the closing door is the only sound in the hallway. you’re not even sure you’re breathing.

after a beat of silence you flinch at the sound of jimin’s high-pitched squeal.

“weeeedding”, he asks, way too loud and way too joyful. the mochi-cheeked idol excitedly jumps up and down, not really caring that you remain silent.

jungkook on the other hand looks … really upset. “you told the police but not me?”, he whispers betrayed.

you could cry as you feel the headache from your concussion clouding your mind. this is… too much.

“uhm”, you’ve decided to stick with your running-gag answer and push both idols out of your way.

your feet carry you out of the house, through the terrace door and before you know it, you’re running across the green gras. the smell of the lake invades your nose while you search for you boyfriend. yoongi’s boat is still on the water and you spot both men resting against each other with their rods, ready to catch your lunch. sunshine shimmers on the lake’s surface as you run onto the dock. your bare feet press against the wood while your hair rushes around you – the wind breezing through the unkempt strands.

“is… is that _____, yoongi?”, seokjin asks his fishing buddy who’s more focused watching the water for prey than his surroundings.

“huh?”, he hums, not really listening to his friend.

“i- i think your girlfriend wants to talk to you, yoongi”, the old singer says hesitantly as he sees you jumping up and down on the wooden dock. this can’t be good for your health.

swiftly, the rapper turns to the spot seokjin is pointing at. and there you stand – beautiful and barefoot, dressed in his t-shirt and some old leggings. your hair is a mess and the sun dances across your skin like the tiniest firework.

“MIN YOONGI”, you shout at the top of your lungs. your boyfriend flinches hearing your loud voice across the water.

“she sounds angry”, seokjin whispers.

“YOU FOOL”, you continue to yell and see seokjin’s shoulders shake with silent laughter.

“oh, i hope the crew gets this on tape”, he says with glee while yoongi really, truly tries to find a reason for your anger. he’s left you alone today, at your request. maybe you didn’t really want him to go? was it a test to see how much he wanted to stay with you? did he fail?

“I GOT YOUR RING!”, you shout and flash the evidence bag high in the air.

immediately, the rapper shoots up from his sitting position, rocking the boat dangerously form side to side.

“yah, yoongi, what the hell?”, seokjin swears but your boyfriend’s eyes rest on you, holding your engagement ring in a plastic bag. there is no air in his lungs – he’s been thinking about this moment for the last two years. he dreamed of your joyful tears, how soft your hands would feel while pushing the silver banner on your finger.

and now… he’s an ocean away from you holding on to the jewelry that got you hurt weeks ago.

“DO YOU WANT TO ASK ME SOMETHING, MIN YOONGI?”, you scream and your boyfriend’s eyes widen when they see the smile on your lips; do you – do you find this funny?

without thinking, he takes a step forward.

You can only watch seokjin’s helpless grimace as yoongi brings the boat out of balance. both idols topple over and splash into the cold sea.

the icy water doesn’t bother the rapper as he pushes to the surface. the sun shines high up while he speeds to the dock. you’ve never seen your boyfriend this determent – his laps forceful and quick, leaving a still shocked seokjin behind.

your fingers shake as you watch him come closer and closer to you. in mere moments he’s close enough for you to hear his heavy breathing.

yoongi heaves himself out of the cold, his shoulder screaming in pain, and then he is dripping in front of you. your boyfriend looks like a wet dog, the black hair plastered to his forehead as he steps forward. you can smell the sea salt across his drenched clothes.

the engagement ring screams from the bag to be acknowledged and yoongi is just… staring at you deeply.

“i had it all planned”, he whispers wringing his sweater. the gush of water drops on the deck, but the idol only looks at you. “weeks ago.” his fingers wrap around your writs, a silent plea to give the ring to its rightful owner – for now.

“i wanted to take you to the restaurant where we had our first date”, he admits and opens the bag. your first date had been a disaster – you’re still vividly remembering the food poisoning.

“then all the restaurants closed down; we were both so stressed… and… life went on”, yoongi continues as the ring dances between his fingertips. it looks like art without the plastic cheapening its presence.

“i... wanted it to be perfect.” his whispered words fall to the floor as he kneels in front of you. warmth is coloring your face, seeing your idol submitting to you.

“baby… you know how much i love you… how much you inspire me every day to become the best version of myself”, yoongi’s voice cracks against his words and you can’t help the softest coo from leaving your lips.

“i promise i’ll make you the best trophy wife of south korea.”

you snort as you hear boyish snicker from behind you at yoongi’s joke.

“will you spend the rest of my life with this ring on your hand?”, he asks and without waiting for an answer, he pushes the silver band on your finger. it fits perfectly.

“am i not supposed to agree first?”, you respond as your eyes stay on your future husband.

“oh baby, you agreed the moment you ate my burned pasta.” yoongi gets up and pushes a lose strand of hair behind your ears.

“you agreed the moment you moved in with me, a struggling insomniac.” his hands cradle your face, framing the expression of love between his palms.

“you agreed the moment you let me change your tampon because you were too drunk to move.” he gives you airy butterfly kisses.

“you agreed the moment you didn’t kill me for stealing your favorite ice cream from the freezer.”

“that actually was a close call”, you chime in, only to hear his soft chuckle.

“you agreed all those nights staying with holly in our shared bed while i traveled across the globe.”

a kiss is planted on the fresh scar across your temple. “you agreed all these moments where my depression was too much, where i was trapped in my own misery.”

a line of kisses travels to your mouth. mere millimeters from your lips he stills. “you do, right?”

under all the layers of love, confidence and familiarity, there is still a shy boy unsure of his worth. your smile is infused with giddiness as you close the gap, pressing your lips together in the softest kiss.

“i do”, you whisper in his mouth, only to meet his tongue with your own in a joyful dance. the boys around you are cheering, while the soft waves of the lake clash against the dock. you’re in pure bliss, kissing your wet fiancé fiercely.

and then you hear a loud thud, a wet slash on the wood. surprised, you both jump away a step – only to see a heaving seokjin lying flat on the deck, chest rising at a fast pace.

“i near- i nearly died for th-this engagement, ____. if – if i’m am not the be-best man, i’ll… will cast a spell on all- all yo-ur children.”

____

ah, this fic is crazy and totally not what i imagined it to become. i hope you enjoyed the read! there is only one chapter left (the stalker) – who’s excited for it? i hope you are doing well! to you, your family and/or loved ones i wish only the most festive time this week! love, dana

#btswriterscollective #bangtanuniversity #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #bts x reader #bts established relationship #yoongi idol au #bts idol au #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #min yoongi

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hauntedbythefanficsofmypast · 4 years ago

Text

Spiderbug Siblings

Peter sighed to himself struggling not to pout as he sat through the meeting. He was continuously reminding himself that he was the one that begged his father to bring him along, but he didn't think it was going to be this boring. Usually he was more than happy to take over different things at SI to give his father a break, such as paper work and meetings his dad really-really didn't want to go to. However this meeting had sucked his soul out ten minutes in. He missed the glances he was getting from said father, who had noticed his son's complete and utter boredom.

Tony struggled not to smirk as his son deflated. He had warned him that this meeting was the worst one he'd ever been to. Tony discreetly moved his hands under the table, flicking his right wrist causing a holographic keyboard to appear on his forearm. He quickly typed out a message before sending it to Peter.

Peter's wristwatch vibrated softly, alerting him to the message. He moved his left arm under the table before flicking it allowing the message to appear across his arm.

'Kiddo, go ahead and stand up saying this in french. "Ladies, Gentlemen, I hate to cut this short but unfortunately I have another meeting to get to. My father however will be remaining behind, I sincerely hope our business deal goes through." Then go have some fun, I know you're dying inside right now so go.'

Peter closed his eyes smiling softly before giving his father a barely noticeable nod, standing up and apologizing in French. He shook a few people's hands before giving them a bright smile and a nod to his dad, turning and leaving the room.

"Je me suis demandé quand il allait enfin s'ennuyer.(1)" One of the women said, turning to Tony with a teasing smile, causing him to burst into laughter.

Peter was more than happy to strip out of the suit and into a pair of jeans, a t-shirt with a silly science meme, his black converse and a green hoodie. He had planned to go check out the young man that applied to MIT and the Stark Industries Internship Program after the meeting, however he thought now would be better than ever. Peter knew that after a quick talk with the Principal he'd be allowed to sit in on the class in the back unannounced to see Max Kanté in action. He ran a hand through his hair before checking his phone's battery life, satisfied that it was at seventy-eight percent. His Stark watch was at sixty-five percent as well, so he knew that he'd only have to charge them once he got back to Le Grand Paris. Pulling out the file on Max, he decided that walking to Lycée Françoise Dupont would be rather relaxing and give him the time to stretch his legs. Plus if his calculations were right, which they usually always were, he'd be there by lunch time. Giving him enough time to talk with the Principal and the man's teacher, then find a place to sit in the back. While leaving the luxury hotel he put on his Edith sunglasses watching as directions to the school popped up, then pulled his hood up, and placed his Stark buds in. He left giving little more than a glance to the paparazzi planted firm outside, he knew they'd be waiting to get pictures of his father or him, after all their pictures sold for big bucks. He fidgeted nervously with his sunglasses until he was finally out of the paparazzi's sight. Letting out a breath he took out his phone hitting play on his album filled with Ella Fitzgerald music. He relaxed listening to it allowing the glasses to guide him through Paris. 'I really need to convince dad to market these. After the failure that Google created people would be skeptical, but having the Stark logo on it would cause many to trust them.' Peter thought about it drawing up blueprints in his head as he walked not paying attention to the outside world. Definitely not noticing the car heading towards him as he crossed the street heading to the school, until his senses started screaming at him.

"Monsieur, soyez prudent!(2)" Marinette cried out as she ran towards Peter tackling him back onto the sidewalk, his hood dropping and his sunglasses flying off his face. The car honked loudly as it skidded to a stop. Both teens turned to it wide eyed and apologizing profusely, in near panic attack states which ended up with the driver worried for them. They waved him on both stating that they were fine and just in a little bit of shock as they sat side by side on the sidewalk.

"Thank you." Peter said after a few moments of them just taking deep breaths together. Marinette looked up at him, blue-grey eyes meeting toffee brown eyes, before she glanced away. She picked up his sunglasses holding them out to him with a tired smile.

"English, yes? You're quite far from home are you not Mister? After all your accent is clearly not British so I'm assuming the States, not the south though I'm thinking from the north maybe the east?" Peter blinked in surprise, finally taking in the young woman that had saved him. Marinette was side sitting leaning against the light pole next to her. Midnight black hair was pulled into a long fishtail braid that went past her waist, Peter knew that once out of the braid her hair would be even longer. Her clothes were designer, M.D. specifically, something that would cause his dad slight annoyance since the designer still hadn't gotten back to him. She wore a soft pink cold shoulder tunic sweater, with black jeans that were loose enough for full mobility but tight enough not to sag or get caught on anything. She had a black and pink backpack on and a small matching purse, both clearly made by M.D. as well. He smiled politely, taking his sunglasses back and carefully sliding them into his pocket.

"Yes I'm from the States. New York to be specific but I've traveled all over. You speak English?" He asked before adjusting his position sitting criss-cross in front of her. Marinette laughed softly nodding.

"I have learned a few languages, French is obviously my first, English was my fourth and hardest to learn!" She exclaimed, rolling her eyes and throwing her arms up in exasperation. Peter laughed loudly nodding his head with a slight smirk.

"Ah yes, English is hard and weird. For instance read and lead rhyme, and read and lead rhyme. But read and lead don't rhyme, and neither do read and lead!" Peter said his smirk grew when Marinette groaned glaring at him before punching him softly in the arm. "Sorry, sorry I had to do it." Peter said rubbing his arm as they settled down. Marinette simply rolled her eyes shaking her head. "But seriously thank you, not many people would risk themselves to save another. You're amazing Miss." Marinette gave him a sad smile not meeting his eyes anymore.

"Well, I'm afraid not many people think that about me. Besides it was the right thing to do, I couldn't just let you get hit when I could do something." Suddenly her purse shifted slightly almost like something inside was moving to press closer to the girl. Peter just barely noticed it, but could tell the girl took note of it right away. She stood up brushing the dirt off her pants, and Peter followed her up. "I'm afraid I must go, we've already spent quite a bit of time sitting here and if I want something to eat before my next class I must go. Au revoir Monsieur." Marinette turned heading down the street to a cafe, Peter turned watching her go but not moving.

"Wait!" He called out quickly shocking himself and the girl as she turned around curiously. "What's your name?" He asked, blinking when a mischievous smile covered the girls face.

"My name is Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way, and I'll see you around." Peter's eyes widened and a burst of laughter left him causing the girls eyes to alight with mischief. "I'll see you around Monsieur." She said before continuing on, Peter watching her as she leaves. He resisted jumping when Karen talked to him over his Stark buds.

"That was a meme was it not? Searching the web for it, oh. I understand that, that was very funny, yes? After all I believe this is what one would call a 'crack' fic." Peter held back his laughter as he crossed the street continuing to the school. He really hoped he'd see the girl again, he knew his dad would love her. He himself already felt a connection to the girl that had saved his life. He walked into the school heading to the office. He greeted the office secretary explaining why he was there and asking to talk with the Principal Damocles and Mr. Kanté's teacher Ms. Bustier. The secretary was quick to let him in and summon Bustier to the office. Peter took the time to explain to Principal Damocles that he simply wished to sit in the back of the class and observe the young man. Damocles was quick to please Peter, and it didn't escape his notice causing his opinion of the Principal to drop. He was quick to introduce himself when Bustier arrived, but allowed Damocles to explain what was going on. Ms. Bustier quickly agreed before escorting Peter back to her class room, telling him all about her class. He barely paid attention however once he realized that she was attempting to take complete credit for her students accomplishments. That was until she mentioned her 'bad egg' at least in her opinion.

"I just don't know what happened, Marinette used to be such a good student. She was the class role model, and everyone would go to her when they needed help. Then out of nowhere she just started bullying this girl that joined my class! She told me the girl was faking everything no matter how much I told her that the girl's condition was no excuse to treat her like that. I kept trying to get her on the right path but couldn't. Now she just sits in the back of the class and no one will talk to her. I've even had to exclude her from class outings because she still won't leave the girl alone! Honestly I always told her that no one will get better if you don't give them chances. Lila won't become a better person if Marinette continues to target and try to expose her. I'm just glad that Adrien is on my side and agrees." Peter frowned, giving the teacher's back a dirty look as he took in what she said, piecing a few things together. 'So this student is a pathological liar, but they're covering for her with some lying condition. Marinette, who was the designated role model, caught on and tried to expose her. However, Bustier and Adrien don't agree so they allow her to be excluded. Wow, I really hope Mr. Kanté does not fall for the lies. I'd hate for his intelligence to go to waste. After all not everyone can create a highly-functional robot, that manages to develop emotions on its own. Falling for lies is something that would hurt him incredibly in the eyes of SI.' Peter smiled politely when the teacher turned to him once they arrived at the door.

"Would you like a seat at the front Mr. Stark?" Bustier asked as she opened the door walking in with him behind her, Peter shook his head as he took in the room. "We only have two seats open one in the front and one in the back." Bustier finished turning and watching Peter look around the room.

"No," he said, not missing as she tensed up slightly. "I need to be able to observe Mr. Kanté. If I sit in the front everyone will notice me turned to look at him. I'll take the back seat, where does he sit now?" Bustier glanced at the spot at the front where Chloe Bourgeois used to sit, and then the one in back by Marinette.

"Are you sure Mr. Stark? Unfortunately the one in the back is by my problem student and I'd rather you not get a bad impression of the class because of her." Peter gave her a tight smile as she rambled on about why it would be better for him to sit in the front. He let out a sigh as she continued on, and wished his father was with him. Knowing Tony wouldn't care about being rude to the women, where Peter himself couldn't pull the courage up.

"Yes Ms. Bustier I am positive. I will take the seat in the back, now please tell me where Mr. Kanté sits and then where my seat will be." Bustier sighed knowing that she wouldn't win this one, she had hoped she could convince him to sit there. That way he could see the entirety of the class and they would see him, the class would also know to behave themselves. They won't pay much attention to him when they walk in and he is sitting in the back.

"Very well, Max sits on the left side, third row and closest to the window. Your seat will be on the right side, last row and next to the wall. Peter nodded before thanking her and walking up to his temporary seat, sitting down and pulling out his phone. "Lunch ends in twenty minutes so the classroom will slowly start filling up." He gave her a smile showing that he heard her before returning to his phone. He pulled up his group chat with Shuri, MJ, and Ned, knowing that it was almost seven am in New York, and that Shuri only slept when forced to. He smiled reading the argument between Ned and MJ.

Guy in the Chair- I don't want to eat at Veselka after school today! I want to eat at Lil' Frankie's!

MJ- I can almost hear you whining through my phone screen. Send me a picture of the face you're making, I want to add it to my sketch book.

Guy in the Chair- Seriously MJ?

Guy in the Chair- I'm not sending you a picture of my face.

Princess Memes a lot- You Americans are so silly. Here MJ.

Image.pn

Guy in the Chair-...

Guy in the Chair- Seriously?

Guy in the Chair- Did you seriously hack my phone to send her a picture of me?

Princess Memes a lot- Hack is such a strong word, I simply introduced my computer to your phone's systems.

Guy in the Chair- I hate this. I can't do anything in retaliation, chemistry is what I'm good at not technology. I can't get revenge. Peter help me bro!

Peter-man- Sorry Ned, I'm not going up against Shuri. She is scary smart, and I'd rather live to see Captain America and his group of runaways finally realize all the changes we've made to the Accords.

Princess Memes a lot- Listen to my favorite colonizer Nedy-boy.

Peter-man- Awe, I'm your favorite colonizer? I thought for sure it would be my Dad.

Princess Memes a lot- Oh no, I do love you father. You and him are some of the only people that can give me a challenge. On top of that he got so excited when he discovered I was smarter than him, I thought for sure he'd want to adopt me.

Peter-man- Oh dad did, however you're a Princess and dad knows his money would get him nowhere in Wakanda. Instead he has settled for us being friends, that way he can subtly drop hints to invite you over for some science time.

Peter-man- I'll talk with you all later have a good day in classes MJ, Ned. And Shuri please get some sleep, I'd rather your brother not blame us for keeping you up again.

Guy in the Chair- Bye Peter!

MJ-middle finger emoji*

Princess Memes a lot- He can't force me to sleep if he can't find me!!

Peter- Love you too MJ and good luck with that Shuri.

Peter placed his phone down as people slowly made their way into the classroom. It was obvious to him that none even noticed him as they talked together excitedly. The volume of the class got louder until four people walked in, everyone was zeroing in on the girl hanging off the blonde's arm. Peter grimaced at her terrible hair style and decided that MJ would love to draw this girl, so he held up his phone taking a picture of her. He noticed a girl slip in behind them but his attention was stolen by the girl once again as she continued her story.

"Oh Alya! You would absolutely love New York city!! I'll have to see if Tony will allow you to come with me next time!" The girl said fairly loud her smile was bright but Peter could spot a fake smile from miles away. He'd learned that skill rather fast as he grew up, after all he needed to when his father was in one of his spirals. "Oh! I suppose I should let you know since I trust you so much! By Tony I mean Tony Stark!" She said giggling behind her hand as everyone gasped in surprise. "You see he is like a father to me! Him and his son Parker love me! We're like this!" She crossed her fingers winking at her classmates. Peter tensed fisting his hands trying to control his anger as he looked at Ms. Bustier who wouldn't not even turn around when the lie left her students lips. He watched as the students all sat down in their seats but they were all turned to the liar listening intensely.

"Wow you're that close to Tony Stark? I just applied for his internship program a few weeks ago, I haven't heard anything yet though." Max said excitedly as he pulled out his things for class. Lila immediately zeroed in on him, her eyes gleaming.

"Oh Max! I'll send Parker a message right away and tell him all about you! You know he runs the Internship Program there! Tony asked me to but I told him I just couldn't leave Paris for good until after school! I also told him he really needs to give Parker a chance!" She glanced around worriedly before turning to Alya. "You can post this if you want, but you didn't hear it from me okay? You see guys Parker had a rough time these past couple years. He fell into the wrong group of people and started bullying, drinking, and doing drugs! It was terrible and Tony was just heartbroken! I could barely console him, he almost kicked Parker out! I convinced him to give Parker a second chance though, and he is getting better, unlike someone we know...but Tony still doesn't trust him fully, so I thought Parker would be able to prove himself if he did good with the program. Unfortunately he does struggle so I have to help him a lot, but Tony cannot know that! Their relationship is finally fixing!" Peter's anger grew even more and it took all his control not to stand up and fight the girl right there. That is when he noticed Marinette sitting besides him tense as well but glaring at the desk and not Lila. "Well hello there Ebony." He said softly startling her slightly, Marinette looked up at him in slight shock as he smiled mischievously at her. "I must say, you look very different from the Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way that I've read about." Marinette blushed embarrassed before she let out a soft giggle covering her face with her hands.

"Oh my gooood," she said, dragging out the word. "I said that thinking I would probably never see you again, and now you're sitting next to me. God I don't know if you're there, but please kill me." Peter snorted softly but both of their eyes were on Lila again as she began talking about Tony and his son 'Parker' once again.

"Lying little squirrel." Peter mumbled glaring at the girl. "Parker Stark? Really did she even do her research? It's Peter Stark and the fact that Kanté is falling for her lies and trying to get in the easy way. This makes my decision easier." He opened the folder turning to Marinette holding out a hand. "May I borrow a pen Ms. Ebony." Marinette snorted, shaking her head and handing him a pen. He wrote denied across the paper and took a picture with his phone sending it to his dad before closing the folder and returning her pen.

"My name isn't Ebony obviously, I'm Marinette Dupain-Cheng." She said politely holding her hand out to shake, he shook it gently as she spoke again. "Are you a new student?" Peter chuckled smiling a little awkwardly as he shook his head.

"No I was here to observe Mr. Kanté in the classroom, ah let me introduce myself. Peter Stark, or from what the liar is calling me, Parker Stark." He rolled his eyes in exasperation, his smile still awkward. Marinette's eyes widened in slight shock as she started rambling to herself about how she tackled Tony Stark's son to the ground. Peter watched for a moment slightly amused at the woman's ramblings before squeezing her hand gently. "Listen, don't worry about it. If anything my dad would be thanking you profusely for saving me there. He wouldn't be upset, however once he hears about that little squirrel's lies. He will be more than pissed." Marinette snorted softly at his nickname for Lila; shel smirked, shaking her head. "Which by the way, can I get her full name? I want to have my lawyers here and ready with paperwork before I return to the states in five days." Her smirk grew as she pulled out a notebook and quickly wrote Lila's full name down before pausing and thinking a sadistic gleam in her eyes. Marinette turned to Peter tilting her head to the side innocently. "Tell me Parker Stark," she said using Lila's mess up causing him to laugh under his breath. "Do you happen to know Bruce Wayne or his kids?" Peter quirked an eyebrow before nodding and telling her that he was very close with Bruce's eldest son. "Well you see the little squirrel, as you call her has also lied about him and a few others." She turned back to the paper steadily making a list of all the people.

Tony and Peter Stark

The Wayne family

Lois Lane and Clark Kent

Jagged Stone

Clara Nightingale

The Justice League

The Avengers

M.D. Clothing

The sadistic glint didn't leave her eyes as a plan formed in her head. "You see, I can get in contact with Jagged, Clara, and M.D. if you can get a hold of the others. We could sue her all at once for slander and defamation of character. If you do this I'll convince M.D. to finally take your dad on as clientele." Peter grinned at her and held out his hand, shaking hers once she grabbed his.

"Well, my father would strangle me if I passed on an opportunity for him to finally get a M.D. suit and dress combo for him and mom. So you've got yourself a deal Miss Dupain-Cheng. If you can get Jagged, Clara, and M.D. on video chat, I can get the others. Do you think you could meet dad and me at Le Grand Paris tonight?" Marinette smirked a twinkle in her eye as Bustier called for the class's attention. Marinette rolled her, before turning to the front of the class.

"Since I am currently living at Le Grand Paris I can definitely meet you. Oh, Jagged and M.D. will be there in person. They live in Paris, Clara however is currently in Africa helping build houses, so we may be able to get her on a phone call but not video chat." Peter slumped in the chair and leaned over towards her slightly. "How about I give you a ride back then since we'll be going to the same place?" Marinette quirked an eyebrow before smiling and leaning against him getting comfortable in her seat.

"Very well Parker, I'll tell my driver I have a ride. Now don't move, you're quite comfortable." Peter snorted softly nodding before turning his eyes back on Max.

'It's a shame I was rather hopeful about him. I thought he'd be a great addition, if only he hadn't fallen for the squirrel.' He turned his gaze away and zeroed in on Bustier who was looking up at them. He could already tell that she wanted to reprimand Marinette for leaning against him. As she opened her mouth Peter sent her a sharp glare, staring her down until she looked away nervously. He sighed looking out the window in annoyance.

'Great, now I'm stuck here. At least I have Mari to keep me entertained judging by her eyes she is clearly zoned out. Something tells me she already knows what this sham of a teacher is going to be teaching today. She is smart, that is obvious, perhaps not as smart as Dad and me. Definitely not as smart as Shuri, but I'm pretty sure no one has her intelligence. She has connections too which is surprising at her age while being relatively unknown.' Peter wiggled slightly before settling down leaning against Marinette as well before closing his eyes.

Marinette waited until everyone had filed out of the class before waking Peter up. She gently shook him snorting as he looked around in confusion. His eyes finally landed on Marinette and a warm smile covered his face. She snorted again, as she packed up her stuff.

"Maybe you should call up your driver that way we won't wait for long." Marinette said, pulling her backpack on as Peter sent out a quick message.

"Mr. Stark, before you go! I'd like to talk with you about what my student Lila said." Bustier said at the front of the classroom, flinching when Peter glared at her.

"Oh, you mean how she decided to lie about my father and me. Or maybe about how she didn't even know my name, but decided to tell everyone that I was a bullying, drunk, drug addict? Is that what you want to talk about? Or do you want to talk about how throughout her entire speech you said nothing knowing damn well that I was sitting in the back." Peter walked down the stairs, Marinette following behind him. When Bustier stepped in front of Peter stopping him from leaving Marinette grabbed his upper arm squeezing it gently.

"Mr. Stark Lila has a condition that causes her to lie. The Principal and I decided not to inform the class because she'd never have friends if we did." Peter shook his head stepping to the side and walking around her Marinette following.

"That is no excuse Bustier. If that Alya woman posts anything that she said today. Well, lets just say it will not be pretty. Come on Marinette, as my dad says often, this person isn't worth our time." Marinette held back a laugh before nodding and walking out the door still holding his arm. She pulled out her phone with her left hand and typed out a few quick texts. Smiling gently when she got responses, she leaned her head on his shoulder before slipping her phone into her purse. Waiting until Tikki tugged it gently signaling that Marinette could safely release her phone. They stood together at the entrance to the school until a Mercedes Benz pulled up and the driver got out opening the door for them. Peter helped Marinette in before climbing in himself, he laughed grinning at her shocked face. She glared slightly before turning her attention back on to the tablets built into the driver and passenger seats.

"Did you buy them like this?" She asked curiously, slipping her backpack off and putting it down by her feet, buckling up afterwards. Peter shook his head, grin not leaving his face as he buckled up.

"Nope, Dad and I tore it apart and built it together. It's fun bonding time ya know." Marinette smiled sadly glancing out the window looking at the now closed bakery. Her thoughts drifted to before everything happened, when her parents were happy and in love, and still wanted her. Her gaze left the building as the driver pulled into traffic.

"I used to bake with my parents all the time. We ran a bakery, Maman would spend time cooking with me, and Papa and I always played video games together. Every night until, we played every night." Peter's eyes widened and he reached out taking her hand and squeezing it. Marinette blinked looking down at his hand before turning hers and squeezing his hand back. They just sat silently for a while enjoying being together with the other. Neither teen knew why they were inexplicably drawn to each other. In the span of a few hours they were closer than normal, and barely knew each other. This didn't scare either of them though, it felt so natural for them to seek slight comfort with the other. To just be able to sit together and feel like nothing could go wrong. Marinette leaned against him resting her head on his shoulder closing her eyes.

"What happened to your parents?" Peter asked after a while moving to rest his head on top of hers when she tensed up. "You don't have to talk about it? I've just found that it's better to get things off your chest and out instead of letting it linger." Marinette huffed a slight smile taking over her face before disappearing.

"My parents got a divorce two months ago. They had been acting for so long that they were still in love, but had grown to hate each other. In turn that meant they started to hate me, I reminded them too much of the other. So neither of them wanted me, my mother left Paris returning to China. My father decided to go to Italy to stay with his extended family. I was left behind, my honorary Uncle took me in till I turned seventeen." Marinette used her free hand to gently wipe her tears away. She squeezed his hand taking a deep breath. "They left me with nothing but 'good luck'. I stayed with my Godmother for a while but I couldn't sleep on the couch. Then my Uncle offered to stay in Paris with me until my seventeenth birthday. After that I'm technically on my own, I have some money saved up so I could get a small apartment, not in Paris though." Peter brushed his thumb against her knuckles thinking to himself.

"So you're only sixteen? I'm seventeen." He said attempting to change the conversation, and from the giggle Marinette let out, she knew what he was trying to do. "What do you want to do when you graduate? I mean I'm just curious is all you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. Like most people like talking about it but I know some don't, but uh, I'm going to be working at SI. Oh and I am already taking college classes online from MIT!" Peter rambled on causing Marinette to laugh and his driver to cough in an attempt to hide his own chuckles.

"I want to go into fashion. I've always been in love with it, and want to have it in my future." Marinette smiled, patting his arm to calm him down. "I've even won a few design competitions, although thanks to Gabriel being unmasked as a supervillain my most distinguished one is gonna be crossed off." Peter raised an eyebrow before connecting the dots with Hawkmoth and the Agreste companies fall.

"I have to ask this after sitting through that god awful class. Do you even like that school?" Marinette groaned, shaking her head slightly. "Because I did notice you zone out in the class." Marinette snorted before nodding.

"See I finished everything online and my plan was to graduate early. However Bustier and Damocles wouldn't allow it, they told me I need my parents signature not my temporary guardian's. So I am stuck there until the end of the year. Especially since I don't have parents, so no one can sign. Child Services won't let my uncle adopt me, apparently he isn't a good role model. Which is kind of funny since he took me in when my parents just abandoned me." She was silent for a while thinking about her situation and Peter did not like silence on the girl.

"Is that how you know M.D. through design competitions?" Peter asked, causing Marinette to laugh softly, wondering how to tell him that she was M.D. "I mean I just noticed that your entire outfit, plus backpack and purse are both M.D. and obviously exclusives." Marinette shook her head as they pulled up outside the luxury hotel, both unbuckling and getting out when the driver opened the door. Marinette adjusted her back back walking up the steps.

"No actually, I've known M.D. my entire life. Now what's your hotel room? Jagged needs to know to meet us there, come on Parker don't leave me hanging." Peter glared playfully at Marinette before telling her their room number. She texted it to Jagged, nodding to the receptionist that greeted her, welcoming her back. "Mister Franco is always so nice, he has worked here for years now. To be honest I'm pretty sure he never takes a day off, he really loves his job." Peter nodded smiling at Franco, before stepping into the elevator with Marinette pressing the button to his floor. "Have you alerted the others to the video chat?" She asked looking up from her phone, meeting Peter's amused eyes. He nodded watching as she slipped her phone into her purse, he noted her pause before letting it drop completely. At first he chalked it up to her making sure the phone was actually in the purse, but then he remembered watching it move earlier in the afternoon. 'Is she keeping a pet in her purse?' He pondered silently as they stepped off the elevator onto his floor. He pulled out his card and opened the door, to be greeted with the amusing sight of his father and Jagged opposite ends of the couch. Tony had his feet pulled up and he stared down at the crocodile lazing on the floor in front of Jagged.

"Ah, Petey, Peter, my son, my first born, my rock when your mothers not around, please-please, explain why we are having a video conference with Bruce Wayne, our favorite reporters Lois and Clark, a Justice League representative, Carol as an Avengers representative, and Jagged Stone and his 'rock 'n roll' crocodile pet?" Tony said, not looking away from Fang for a second. Marinette snorted and walked in further dropping her bag on the floor by the couch, then kneeling down and starting to scratch Fang in his favorite places. Making him roll onto his back, tail waving like an excited puppy. Tony blinked, watching Marinette turn Fang into a cuddly puppy in seconds before turning to look at Peter with a raised eyebrow. "Alright, tell me what this is about." Peter rolled his eyes, slipping off his jacket and kicking his shoes off walking over to stand behind Marinette. Looking down at the crocodile in puzzlement.

"I can do you one better. Karen please play the audio from the class today, starting when Miss Rossi entered the classroom. Oh and Friday can you drag up as much dirt on Lila Rossi as possible." Both AI gave confirmation causing Peter to smile as he stepped around Marinette and Fang sitting down on the couch. He introduced himself to Jagged briefly before turning back to Marinette. "Think you can type up every little lie, while I get incontact with my lawyers." Marinette nodded, the gleam back in her eyes as she pulled her laptop out of her backpack. She waited till Fang rolled back onto his stomach before leaning against him and placing her laptop on her bent legs. The next couple minutes were filled with Tony raging over what the girl said. While Peter clung to his back in an attempt to stop him from suiting up and hunting the girl down. Jagged watched the scene amused sipping on a juice box he pulled from Marinette's bag. Fang was also greatly amused and wanted to join in with the two newcomers to his family but he knew his girl was busy, so moving wasn't an option for him. Marinette ignored them the entire time up until she finished. Then she starred, amused at Tony laying on his side, a grumpy pout on his face as Peter was still wrapped around him.

"Calm now?" She asked, her lips quirking up into a smirk as he leveled a grumpy glare at her. "Because I told Clara to call at five and it's almost time." Tony continued to be grumpy for a while before letting out a loud sigh and nodding.

"Let's get this show on the road, pinky." Marinette sent him a dry look raising an eyebrow before looking at Peter who grinned.

"That's his way of saying he likes you!" Marinette snorted before pulling out her phone before glancing back at Jagged, her eyes narrowing.

"Jagged, is that my juice box?" She asked already knowing that he was drinking the juice box from her backpack. Jagged glanced down at the juice in his hand before grinning at her.

"Well you see, I was thirsty and our hosts were obviously having a moment, and I'll buy you two more twelve packs of the juice boxes." Marinette nodded before turning her gaze off him, giving Tony her signature sunshine smile.

"Hello Mr. Stark, I'm Marinette Dupain-Cheng, I am unfortunately part of Lila Rossi's class, though at this point I'm the only one that seems to see through lies." She held her laptop out to Peter, who took it with a smile plopping down on the couch. He scrolled through the long list, Marinette had composed. "I'll be the one helping compile all the lies, you may want to make sure everything on the Ladyblog is documented. It used to be a reliable source about Paris's heros, but the reporter, um, correction tabloid writer now fell for Lila's lies." Tony nodded before telling Friday to look into the Ladyblog. A few minutes later Marinette received Clara's call, the two talked together in French until Tony had video connection with Bruce, Lois, Clark, Wonder Woman, and Carol. Everyone wondered what was going on until Peter sent them all the list of lies. Marinette placed Clara on speaker before speaking up to everyone. "A few years ago when I was still in college-ah, middle school for you American's. A girl named Lila Rossi transferred to my school, she spread lies throughout the class about famous people. I was able to see through her lies because she decided to lie about Jagged Stone. " She gestured to Jagged who waved at everyone from his spot. "She claimed that she saved his cat from getting hit by a plane and developed tinnitus from it. She also stated that Jagged Stone wrote a song about her, at the time she was thirteen. Then she claimed to be best friends with Parisian superhero, Ladybug. The hero in question shot those claims down very fast, however the girl twisted it telling everyone Ladybug was only saying that to protect her. The creator of Bugout did not believe the girl, and that is why Ladybug heavily backs her. The list Parker here sent you is every lie she has told about you, Clara I texted you the list." Peter gave Marinette a playful dirty look as Clara took over the conversation.

"Oh my, all these lies I can't believe my eyes!" Everyone looked confused at Clara's rhyming. "I can't believe her claims, all the people she is trying to deceive, and all the names." Clara gasped on her side causing many to wish they could see here. "Oh dear! She could have ruined your careers!" Marinette smiled softly when Clara said that. "She even mentioned your alternate ID, and this simply can't go unmentioned." Everyone looked at Marinette in slight confusion causing Marinette to give them an awkward smile.

"I'm sure all of you can see that she has mentioned that she knows M.D. the new famous designer who has kept out of the public eye. Well you all are lucky enough to meet M.D. before everyone else. It's a pleasure to meet you all, I am Marinette Dupain-Cheng and I run M.D. Clothing." Everyone stared at her in shock for a bit before the Stark lawyers joined the video chat. At the time they began making plans to take Lila down, and Marinette was at the center of the plans. "Tony and Peter leave in five days. His lawyers will be delivering her chargers, I want this to happen all at once." Everyone noted the determined glean in Marinette's eye, it reminded Tony of Pepper and he found himself about what his wife would think of this young woman. "If everyone has at least one of their lawyers to deliver them at the same time it will destroy her. That is why I suggest we do this during the school day, right before we are set to get out." Everyone agreed with doing it in front of the entire class. It was decided that Tony's lawyers wouldn't enter first, then Bruce's, followed by the Justice League's and the Avenger's, Jagged and Clara's would enter soon after, and then Marinette's lawyer would hand Lila her final lawsuit. After the video chats Marinette gave Peter a big hug smiling brightly as Jagged picked up her backpack and Fang's leash. "Thank you for all the help Peter!" She let go before shaking Tony's hand, her smile not slipping. "As promised, get me yours and Mrs. Stark's measurements and I will make you a M.D. suit and dress combo. I think royal blue with ivory accents will suit you both. Peter has my number, so that you can get me the information." She walked to the door Jagged and Fang following her. "Goodnight you two!" Marinette said as they stepped outside. Peter and Tony stood at the door wishing them goodnight before closing it. Tony immediately turned to Peter once it was closed, wanting an explanation for everything. Peter sat down explaining what all had happened after he left the meeting. Tony listened intently while also thinking to himself about Marinette.

"So Max Kanté is rejected for the Internship program, damn. At least we caught this girl before more lies could be spread. I can't believe she dared to claim that I would give up on my own son." Peter nodded before picking the remote on and turning on Star Wars, he placed his legs across Tony’s lap and leaned again his side for comfort.

“Ya, she is pretty stupid. Did she think no one would ever hear her lives now she has multiple people coming down on her in less than 5 days.”

“Also that Marinette girl, think I can adopt her? Like joint custody? Pep would love her, seriously together they could rule the world.”

“Well with a little money you might be able to. Her parents gave up custody of her and the government refused to let Jagged adopt her.”

Tony looked at Peter silent for a moment before nodding to himself.

“Friday-“

“Already drawing up adoption papers Boss. Pepper has been informed and she had this to say, ‘I give up, let him adopt the girl, I’ll have her registered for online schooling.’ Shall I bribe the person that receives the papers.”

“Yes but remember, I never said yes.”

That caused Peter to burst into laughter as he pulled out his phone, sending a text to his group chat.

Peter-man- New sister on the way guys. You’re gonna love her, dad just has to bride Child services.

Princess Memes a lot- Another science genius??

Peter-man- Nope, ever heard of M.D. Clothing?

Guy in the Chair- You’re joking.

MJ- Why am I not surprised by this.

Princess Memes a lot- You met M.D. and your Father is adopting her.

Princess Memes a lot- That’s it I’m taking a vacation to Paris, I’ll be there by tomorrow Peter. Ayo will be with me, and you will introduce the two of us to your new sister.

Peter-man- Understood Princess, although don’t mention the adoption to her just yet. I think I’m going to ease her into the family dynamic with us.

Princess Memes a lot- Very well Ayo and I will not mention a thing. I will make sure we are both dressed discreetly as well. That way we don’t have to explain why the Princess of Wakanda is in Paris.

Peter chuckled resting his head on Tony’s shoulder curling into his dad's side. Tony smiled, his eyes never wavering from the tv screen as he rubbed his son’s leg gently.

Marinette let out a content sigh as she dried her hair with a towel. She sat on a plush chair in front of a grand dollhouse that was opened so all the rooms could be seen. The Kwami say inside all talking happily, making sure that Duusu and Nooroo were comfortable. Marinette smiled down at them wrapping his hair in her towel before leaning back and looking out the window. Tikki and Plagg flew up to her causing the young woman to laugh softly. She held her hand out allowing them to sit down. “In a few days Lila will be drowning in lawsuits. I really can’t find it in myself to feel bad for her.” Plagg snorted leaning back against her fingers, while Tikki gave him a disapproving look.

“Honestly kid, all you had to do was say the word and I would’ve taken care of the brat.”

“Plagg!” Tikki said, glaring at him, causing the other Kwami to laugh softly with Marinette.

“What?! I didn’t mean kill her! I meant that I’d cut her hair into something that doesn’t look awful! Always jumping to conclusions aren’t you Sugarcube.” Tikki swatted the back of his head causing the cat goddess to fly away laughing hysterically.

“Oh leave him be Tikki. He wouldn’t dare do anything in fear of repercussions from you.” Marinette said softly, bringing Tikki closer to her face. “A few days left Tikki, I am so excited.” Tikki smiled, rubbing her thumb gently as she looked up at her chosen human, her creation soul. Tikki felt her power rise a few days ago and now she knew why. Instead of having just one and a half creation souls around her, she had three. Marinette will always be the soul that resonates with her the most but Peter is a pure creation soul. Then Jagged and Tony combined made the third, it was their pasts that caused half their souls to be that of destruction. Yet it was the fact that they still held half a creation soul that got her, yes they had a reason to be bad, yet they wouldn’t allow it. She was happy that they still held that half tightly, the only for once a human’s, that was not meant to hold Plagg, soul becomes full destruction they become the worst of the worse. Which is why Tikki was happy Lila was going down, her soul was so close to destruction it sickened Tikki. She knew that once that little bit of creation left, there would only be a monster, because she was definitely not suited to be a cat. Tikki looked over at her other half with a gentle smile knowing that they’d find Plagg’s true destruction soul soon as well.

“Princess, why are we going to Paris?” Ayo asked as she followed Shuri onto the jet. The servants following with their bags, placing them onto the plane.

“Stark is adopting a young woman.” Shuri said trying on her phone. She looked up meeting Ayo’s eyes with a slight smirk. “The girl is the M.D. herself, I simply must meet her. According to Peter they only just met her and Tony is already adopting her. Peter also seems to have formed a connection with the woman. So I must meet her, and out of all the Dora Milaje you are able to be perfectly discrete. Anyone seeing us will believe you are simply my older sister, which is what I need. Miss Marinette does not know about the adoption yet and Peter wishes to edge her in. So I will simply be seen as Peter’s friend that decided to visit, and this will keep us out of the news.” Ayo nodded moving to sit down and relax knowing that they had an hour before reaching Paris.

“Very well, I shall enjoy meeting the new Stark child.” She said, causing Shuri to grin at her with a twinkle in her eyes. “I will not enjoy keeping you and Peter out of trouble however.” She finished teasingly causing Shuri to burst into laughter, Ayo only let a slight grin cover her face.

“Oh no oh no oh no.” Marinette muttered as she ran around her room getting ready. “I can’t believe I forgot this! Oh Miss Mendeleiev is going to be so upset! She went out of her way to have me come to her class’s party instead and I’m going to be late! Tikki, Plagg! Grab the pastries please!” The two Kwami lifted one try floating it over to the table by the door before taking the other over as well.

“My bug you must calm down. You have ten minutes before the party starts, yes, but Mendeleiev said to show up at any time.” Tikki flew up with Pollen the two gently fixing the French braid Marinette had begun putting her hair into. “There is no set time you need to be there so you are fine.” A knock on the door startled the human and Kwami slightly, Marinette ushered them into hiding spots before answering the door.

“Hello? Oh Peter! Do you need something?” Peter smiled brightly fidgeting with his sunglasses, he held up two bags filled with snacks.

“I was hoping we could hang out? Dad is in a really boring meeting and if I go it’ll suck my soul out.” He said dramatics causing Marinette to laugh.

“Normally I’d love to, but I have a class party today.” She gestured to the two large trays of pastries.

“Oh, that’s fine! I’ll just help you carry the trays then go find something to do.” Peter said, picking up one of the plates. “And before you say anything, shut up, I want to help.” Marinette glared at him before picking up her purse and folding her jacket over her arm. She picked up the other tray before checking her purse making sure Tikki and Plagg were in it. “Soooo,” Peter said, dragging out the word as he waited for Marinette to lock the door. “Where am I escorting you today fair Goddess?” Peter teased causing Marinette to quirk an eyebrow as they walked toward the elevator.

“Goddess? That's a new one. Care to explain?” She asked, stepping into the elevator pressing the button for the lobby. She reached over pulling his hood up gently with one hand before grabbing his sunglasses and slipping them onto his face. “There you go Mr.Famous.” She teased softly before fixing the strap of her purse. Peter smiled shifting the bag in his hand.

“Well my first thought was princess, but it just doesn’t suit you. Queen had popped in too but that didn’t feel right either. Trust me I know princesses and Queens, and they’d definitely love you but you have an air of difference compared to them. Something that makes you stand out something kind of magical-as silly as it sounds.” Marinette shifted slightly at the mention of magical glancing down at the purse that contained the most powerful beings in existence. Something that did not go unnoticed by Peter. “So when I settled on Goddess it just felt right, of course I tried other names but none compared to Goddess. So that is your new Stark patented nickname! Property of Stark & Co., nobody else can use it without express consent from Stark CEO, Head of R&D, and CEO in training!” Marinette snorted softly stepping out of the elevator Peter followed behind her as she began to giggle.

“Alright I suppose I shall let it slip this time! Besides it is definitely better than Princess, I hate that stupid nickname.” She turned to look at him, eyes twinkling slightly. “Now make sure to stay close, don’t want to have to save you from a car accident again.” Peter laughed rolling his eyes before calling out that it only happened once. Causing Marinette to laugh again as they started the walk to Marinette’s school.

“Oh Marinette! You’re here!!” Aurore called out as she, Mireille, and Jean hurried to meet both her and Peter as they entered the school courtyard. “And you brought a friend!” She said hugging Marinette once Jean took the tray from her. Marinette chuckled nervously hugging the girl back before hugging Mireille as well. “Pleasure to meet you I’m Aurore, that is Mireille, the man that took Marinette’s tray is Jean. Oh and of course you’ll meet the rest of our little family in a bit!” Peter smiled at the girl pushing his sunglasses up.

“I’m Peter, it’s nice to meet you. I am not staying though I was only helping Marinette carry the trays.” He said as Claude bounced over taking the tray from him and passing it off to his sister Allegra. He grabbed Peter’s shoulder directing him towards the rest of their class, smiling goofily. Marinette rolled her eyes smiling as Allan wrapped an arm around her shoulder following behind the two. He was telling her about his most recent audition calmly but excitement was clear in his voice.

“Nonsense! My new friend!!” Claude said smiling brightly leading him to the snack table. “If you’re a friend of Marinette’s then you are more than welcome to our party! I’m Claude Renou, the blonde that took the tray is my sister Allegra Dimont! You already saw Jean, Aurore, and Mireille. Kagami is over there teaching Ondine how to hold a saber, Kagami is wearing the red and black Cheongsam,” He paused turning to Marinette with a hopeful look. “Did I say it correctly?” He beamed when Marinette nodded before turning back to Peter. “And Ondine is the young woman who is completely out of her element on land!” He teased causing Ondine to glare at him playfully before waving politely to Peter. Over there controlling the music is Marc-pretty sure his mom, like runs France’s known yet unknown mafia but he won’t tell us.” Marc shot them a playful look before turning to and beginning to eat Marinette’s cookies. “And behind us is Allan Duval! Better known as Coté Spanghero, a rising actor! Then there is our teacher the wonderful and sometimes cruel Ms. Mendeleiev.” Anne-Claire Mendeleiev turned and stared down Claude who simply grinned at her. She sighed, shaking her head before looking over at Peter.

“Ignore him, of course you are more than welcome to join us. This is our little graduation party, these kids have been my students since middle school, except for Marinette unfortunately. Though I tried to get her multiple times.” She gave him a polite smile before patting his shoulder. “Oh and please call me Anne-Claire, all my students do when they remember they are almost out of school.” Marinette pulled away from Allan with a soft smile before linking arms with Peter. Peter grinned at her leaning closer to her.

“Looks like you don’t need to find something to do.” She said laughing with him. “Now come on, Jean knows some pretty cool magic tricks!” She pulled him over and they stood watching Jean perform different card tricks. They stood together, arms still locked while Peter watched Jean and Marinette talked with Allegra both women laughing together. Peter’s attention was stolen a few minutes later by his phone going off.

Princess Memes a lot- Stark where are you and your new sister?

Princess Memes a lot-Hello? Spiderboy?

Princess Memes a lot- Very well I have already found your location, Ayo and ai are on our way.

“Ah? Will Anne-Claire be upset if my friend and her older sister crash this party?” Anne-Claire raised an eyebrow as she took a sip from her cup looking over.

“Depends Mister Stark, are the delinquents?” Peter was surprised that she knew him and even more surprised when he noticed none of her students were surprised.

“Ah, no not at all. Since you know who I am I’ll be honest. One is royalty and the other her bodyguard acting as sister.” Anne-Claire looked slightly excited at the prospect score nodding.

“As long as they don’t cause trouble they’re welcome here.” Peter nodded smiling brightly before responding to Shuri that they were more than welcome to join.

“My friend will be here soon, they may be a little stand off-ish at first.” Claude laughed, shaking his head, giving Kagami a teasing smile causing the woman to raise her eyebrow, faking an unimpressed look.

“Worry not Peter! We managed to break through Kagami’s Ice Queen persona!” Allan smirked rolling his eyes before handing his drink to Allegra. He stood behind Claude mining all of his actions. This caused them all to burst into laughter while Claude simply grinned looking at them. “Well besides that! Peter I have to ask, are you following in your Dad’s footsteps as head of R&D, or will you be taking up CEO. Oh perhaps I should start with my plans. I want to work in Public Relations, I actually have an internship with Wayne Enterprises. Cool right? Everyone here is going on to amazing things actually!” Peter smiled looking at them.”Why don’t we tell him? I’m sure Marinette has already told you her plans. We might as well tell him the rest!” Allegra shook her head smiling softly.

“I’ll tell him, obviously Allan is continuing his acting career, I am going to Harvard to study Law. Kagami is taking over her family business, Ondine is already an Olympic swimmer. Aurore and Mireille are continuing their weather girl careers, Marc is on his way to becoming a famous author and Jean is continuing his figure skating career.” Peter nodded looking at all of them., rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well I am actually already working at Stark Industries, I run the Internship program. Paid and Unpaid, I decide if you are given a chance in our company. I am however in training for both CEO and head of R&D, my parents told me that it is my choice. Although neither plan to retire for quite some time!” The class plus two continued to talk happily never noticing the girl glaring at them from Ms. Bustier’s classroom. Lila knew something was up, ever since she had laid eyes on the man sitting next to Marinette. It was something about him, something that made him stand out. She looked over at her sheep all of who were too engrossed with final plans for the last class trip. These were her sheep, the people that fell in line just to stop her crocodile tears. She sat high and powerful atop her kingdom and Marinette was in her rightful place, alone and ostracized. Something told her though, that the man out there with Mendeleiev’s class was going to ruin her. She sniffed looking away again giving her sheep a fake smile. She’d simply have to destroy him first.

“This is the place.” Shuri said looking up from her phone as Ayo and her walked through the school. “Peter said the teacher they were with is fine with us being here. Apparently they are having a party. Which sounds like a lot of fun!” They finally walked into the courtyard spotting Peter and the class before walking over when Peter waved excitedly. He introduced them to the class, smiling brightly when Marinette and Shuri hit it off right away.

Over the next couple days Marinette grew closer with Peter, Tony and Shuri. Marinette showed the three around Paris with the help of her friends in Mendeleviev’s class. Tony had even promised them visits to Stark tower the summer after their graduation. Of course it wasn’t known to Marinette that she’d soon be living there. In fact they still had to break it to her that Tony’s adoption request went through. It finally came out during a move night that Tony and Peter were holding with Marinette, Shuri, Ayo, her friends, and Jagged.

“Ya know, I’m going to miss you guys.” She said softly leaning against Peter’s side holding his right hand and carefully painting his nails a navy blue. Peter tensed slightly, sharing a look with Tony. Marinette noticed immediately when Peter tensed looking up at him sharply. “What?” She asked, turning to look at the father and son duo. Peter looked at Tony knowing that his father had to tell her.

“Ah, well you see Pinky, I decided that I didn’t want to lose you. So you’re mine now.” He said not looking her in the face, attempting to hide his nervousness.

“I’m yours now?”

“Yes. Our if you want to be specific and bring Pep into this considering she’s my wife, but mine either way.”

“You do know I’m not something to be owned, correct?”

“Well yes, but you’re still mine. End of story. You’re my daughter now, which means you’re Peter’s sister.”

“You know, I should be upset about this but honestly I really didn’t want you guys to leave. I’ve grown attached and I think Uncle has too.”

Peter smiled brightly wrapping his arms around Marinette, careful not to mess up his nails.

“We just have one last thing to do.”

“Oh?”

“Change your last name to Stark.”

Tony said, smirking as he ruffled his now daughter’s hair. It wasn’t until after the movie finished that they announced the news to the rest of their group, and the celebration was anything but quiet. The night ended with a big sleepover in the Stark’s current living room and all went to bed knowing that tomorrow was the day they took Lila off her fake throne.

Lila smirked looking at herself in the mirror taking in her makeup. Nasty fake bruises covered her face and lower neck. She looked down at her clothes to make sure they were properly ripped. She nodded before heading out, stopping before she made it to the school before starting to cry. She rushed to the school bursting into Ms. Bustier’s class immediately having attention on her. She hid a smirk before spouting her sob story. Not knowing that Peter and his father were about to walk through that door with multiple lawyers Shuri and Ayo also tagging along. The moment Peter stepped through the door Kim charged at him fire in his eyes. Ayo was quick to move, taking Kim down flawlessly in seconds. “What do you think you’re doing! Get off my student!” Ms. Bustier said standing quickly but not moving towards Ayo and Kim.

“Shut it you banshee.”Ayo growled out standing up but keeping her foot in the middle of Kim’s back. “I shall act as guard for you all.” She said after Shuri gave her a subtle nod of permission. Tony and Peter’s lawyer Ryan was the first to step forward.

“Thank you warrior.” He said nodding in respect to Ayo before turning to the class. “I am Ryan Wilson and I am Tony and PETER Stark’s lawyer. I am looking for one Lila Rossi.” Lila sat stock still not wanting to draw any attention to her. That failed when Ayla was quick to point her out.

“She is right here! You’re here to help her after that monster attacked her earlier aren’t you? Wow! Stark works fast! Oh can I record this for my blog?” Ryan galred at both girls before walking over and placing papers on the table.

“No, you may not! Lila Rossi you’ve been served! The Stark family is suing you for slander and defamation of character as well as claiming to others that you work with them. I suggest you find a lawyer and soon.” He turned away from them and walked to Bustier’s desk placing papers on her desk. “This is for allowing and even helping your student to lie.” He stepped back ignoring the class crying out in outrage. Lila just sat staring down at the paper in horror. The horror mounting as more and more papers were added to the pile until Marinette’s delicate and manicured hand placed her own papers down. She looked up at Marinette’s blank face, tears streaming down her face as anger slowly built.

“Lila I have let you get away with a lot, all because I was supposed to be the ‘better person’. Well I am done with that flawed idea, it’s time you learned that lies have consequences.” She turned heading back over to Peter smiling brightly until she saw Tony and Peter’s eyes widened as they moved forward. LIla let out a blood curdling scream launching herself at Marinette. Marinette turned quickly but Ayo was faster than both girls and slammed Lila into the ground. She calmly turned to look at Ryan not releasing her grip from Lila. “It may be smart to call for the police.” Officer Raincomprix walked in soon after sending the teacher a disappointed look as he pulled out handcuffs.

“We are already here. Lila Rossi evidence has been discovered proving that you willingly worked with Gabriel Agreste, also known as Hawkmoth. Anything you say can and will be held against you.” He cuffed her ignoring her screams and holding the young women still as she thrashed trying to get to Marinette. Tony wrapped an arm around her shoulder as Peter linked their arms together causing Marinette to smile.

“Ready to head home, daughter of mine?” Tony said with a smirk as Marinette leaned her head against his arm.

“Ya know, I can’t wait to see my new home. Lets go.”

I wondered when he was finally going to be bored.

Sir, be careful!

#peter parker #tony stark #peter stark #irondad #Avengers #team iron man #miraculous ladybug #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #miraculous fanfic #miraculous fandom #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #marinette dupain cheng #lila bashing #lila salt #class salt #quantic kids #DC Universe

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