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bluebellhairpin · 3 years ago

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Not Jealous

Bruce Wayne X Batmom!Reader

A/N: So I worked on this instead of like, five other things that people want but hey - gal’s gotta have her vices. - Nemo

Summary: Even after years of fancy gatherings, Bruce wants nothing more than to give in to his introvert nature and run away from them. You however, have taught him that after sticking it out, they might not be so bad.

Warnings: Flirting. Bruce get’s jealous but not really ‘cause Batman doesn’t get jealous. Reader has she/her pronouns and is referred to as uh ‘wife’ multiple times.

Listening to: ‘Can’t Take My Eye’s Off You’ by Frankie Valli - ‘Pardon the way that I stare, there's nothin' else to compare... You're just too good to be true.’

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Gala’s were something that Bruce never really liked.

As Bruce Wayne - the billionaire, playboy, golden child, Prince of Gotham - he couldn’t get to enough of them.

As Batman - the brooding, ‘I work alone but not really’, Protector of Gotham - he avoided them at all costs.

But as himself - the friend, father, husband, Bruce - his thoughts on such events could only be described as apathetic.

Over the years he grew a very nice façade to hide how he truly felt. After the entrance of his wife, and then each child that followed, it became easier to fake, and he did have to admit they became a little more enjoyable with proper company anyway.

Of course, the first time he saw she who would be his wife at one of these events, she was hanging off the arm of some blond, tanned, rich member of high society. From his knowledge and meetings with her on the streets she wasn’t exactly supposed to be enjoying it as much as she looked like she was.

Turns out she was one great faker too.

Over the course of the past seventeen-ish years, Bruce got to know the various ways you dealt with these gala’s.

While he was tempted with the recluse lifestyle everyday, you managed to get him out of the house when it was needed. Even if it was a big house, he still needed to get out of it sometimes.

With the outings you used to force him on, he was able to learn a thing or two from you. You weren’t born into wealth like he was, and you never had it until you married him, but you took to it like a fish to water. Well, the avoiding attention part anyway. In fact, when it came to going to gala’s with you, he was surprised at how little attention you drew when you didn’t want it.

The first time you went as a couple, and then again as a married couple, were the worst as far as being left alone went, and he did expect it. Newspapers craved that sort of thing.

After that, when it was just him and you, the most you were asked of was the journey between the car and the front door thanks to the press and media - once inside you could sulk away to a corner or table, get up for a dance or two, loiter at the bar and then go home without anymore than a half dozen people approaching. Those were very good nights for Bruce, mainly because on those nights he’d rather be anywhere else.

As if he didn’t feel that way about them anyway.

But lately your trick of not gaining attention at the gala’s wasn’t working anymore. It wasn’t that people were noticing him again, no it was because they were noticing you.

Namely someone kept noticing you.

“You both have never looked more alike.”

Tim slid into a set opposite Bruce and Damian. Bruce had a crystal tumbler filled with ginger ale pressed to his lips, unmoving as his eyes locked onto where you stood across the room. Damian was in the exact same position, whether knowingly or not, and was sending a glare towards the man who was looking far too happy about talking to you.

“We are kind of literally related, Tim.” Bruce mumbled, sipping his drink before setting it down and leaning back in his seat.

“He’s too close.” Damian whispered.

“I know.”

“She could get uncomfortable soon.”

“I know.”

“If it bothers you so much then either of you could go over there and whisk her away.” Tim said, shaking his head a little. “Bruce could pull out his charisma, or the gremlin could pretend to ask for a dance with his mother all cute and mother-son-like.”

Damian switched his glare over to Tim.

“Why don’t you go and fix it since you’re so smart?”

“‘Cause it’s not bothering me as much as it is you.” Tim laughed. Bruce looked between his two sons, then up to where you and the man were talking. “She can handle herself. Plus he’s way below her league anyway, if she doesn’t know that then something’s wrong.”

“You don’t think Ummi’s being mind controlled right now, do you?” Damian asked, sitting straighter and squinting a little. “We should go home and -”

Bruce stood, patting Damian’s shoulder as he pushed his chair back in, and then strode over to your side.

As usual, you noticed his approach with barely having to look, and reached out an arm as he pressed his side to yours. His arm wound it’s way around your waist, and he offered his free hand to the man whose conversation he probably just ruined.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Bruce Wayne.” he said, lips tight in one of the best and believable fake smiles he’s put on in his entire life.

“Henry Syrus.” The man said, stepping to match Bruce’s fake pleasantries with his own, “I was just having the most wonderful conversation with your darling wife about the art pieces here.

“Next time you should compare novelty keychains.” Bruce’s voice was light, but you could tell there was a little something underneath. “I’m afraid I’ll have to take her away for a dance before the night dies down too much.”

So without another word, Bruce swept you away and onto the dancefloor with the hoard of other swaying couples.

“You need to practice that.”

“Practice what?” he asked, looking down at you as his fingers intertwined with yours.

“The ‘I’m taking my wife away from someone who makes me feel like they’re making her feel weird’ thing you just pulled.” you said, a small smile twitching onto your features from your lips up to your eyes - your first genuine smile of the night - and Bruce was proud to think it was because of him.

“I did that?” he mused, feigning thought for a moment, “I don’t think I did.”

“Well you weren’t jealous. Everyone - including you! - says Bruce Wayne does not get jealous.” Bruce spun you away, and then back closer to him again. Closer than before.

“I don’t need to get jealous, I know you can’t resist me.” he mumbled against your ear, then pressed a kiss to your cheekbone before leaning back some again. “That’s why you keep sticking around.”

“I thought I stuck around because you’re filthy rich and never at home, so that I have the place to do as I please.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, chuckling, “Now you’re really teasing me.”

“I’m just getting started.” you said, a sly glint in your eye that made his arm around you tighten.

“Oh? Dare I ask what else you have in store?” he replied, preparing to meet whatever you came up with. You hummed at him, surveying the room and fellow dancers before looking back up at him again.

“I’m gonna take you home, pull you into our bedroom, and take you out of this monkey suit -”

“- it’s a tux, not a suit -”

“- I’m going to take you out of this tuxedo,” you corrected, tugging on his tie as he smiled down at you, “And then we’re gonna sleep for twelve. Whole. Hours.” He groaned.

“You love me so much. You know exactly what to say. You treat me so well.”

“I know.” you said, smiling up at him. He couldn’t help but press his lips to yours in something a little longer than a peck, and you hummed again. “Now you’re making Henry jealous with all the faces you’re making.”

“How can you tell, you can’t see him?” he asked. Looking over, he was able to see that, yes, the man you were with before wasn’t looking incredibly happy at the moment.

“I’m a mother of at least five children, Bruce. And I have to deal with you. I can tell when someone’s glaring at my back.”

“I do glare a lot.” He grimaced. “I should’ve known better.”

“Underestimate me again and you’ll pay for it.”

“And if I do then you can name your price, my dear.”

#The adventures of batmom #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x batmom #batman x reader #batman x batmom #batfam x reader #batfam x batmom #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne one shot #batman imagine #batman one shot #damian wayne x batmom #tim drake x batmom

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thursday-writes-fanfics · 3 years ago

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Choose, part 4. (Reader x Jack Sparrow or Will Turner. )

Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean, Will Turner, Jack Sparrow.

Warnings: None lmao

Words: 2.3 K

First - Former - Next

It's been a while since my last update, so here you go!

One year had passed since the faithed night in Tortuga, where Y/N left everything she once knew behind, to seek the truth she needed to find within. One eventful year where she had gone alone through more than most would in their lifetime. Travelling along with different crews, battling across the seas and polishing her hastily growing reputation as one of the most fearsome pirates the world has ever seen. None dared voice their annoyance with her being a woman, for she had allies all across the seven seas. She had seen so much of the world, her confidence grown and her heart set aflame with adventure. Y/N was an even finer pirate and woman than she had been ever before.

Other pirates either wished to be her or be with her, the secrets of many slipped into her ears. It amused the young woman, and the many who worked in the brothels along the coasts. When Y/N needed information, it was not other pirates or navy officials she sought out. No, it was the brothels’ gossip she tuned her ears to. For the women there knew far more of the world than any other. All news came to their homes and it was all available for the famous pirate.

She had earned an even better reputation with them as well, as she sought out the women there the first thing she did each time she came ashore. She treated them kindly, paid for their food and brought along gifts, treating them like friends. Her actions earned her a handsome reputation with the women, and in each town she could always find a loyal embrace to keep her safe. After all, the women of the brothels ruled the cities from the shadows. To anger one of them was to anger an underground nation.

Y/N’s locks had grown long since the night one year ago, her clothing expensive and proud on her frame. A treat she gave herself due to her wide success in both informal and formal businesses. She was a true pirate, yet could strike a bargain with the British navy without a problem. After all, they too were afraid of her.

The feather on her black hat curled down to her shoulder, its size another show of her wealth and power. The weaponry which clad her shape were the most efficient, on all the ships of the sea, not even the British army able to supply her better. Only the finest for herself, the woman had decided. Dual pistols she had strapped to each side of her chest, and upon both hips she held blades, one magnificent sabre and one deadly cutlass, all adorned with the most elaborate details. These were all weapons to show, the rest she had hidden in pockets and secret departments on her curves. Small explosives and hidden blades were better kept in subtle crevices than to be seen by the naked eye when one made deals. All about the fearsome pirate screamed confidence and to show respect, and that respect she had earned many times over.

“We’ll be docked in an hour, lass,” came the captain’s voice, the merry band she was travelling with now not as roughhousing as most of her fellow pirates. Mercenaries of the law they were during the day after all, and they weren’t too keen on going out during the night when there was ale to be drunk with stories to be told in old taverns. It was a life-altering change from how they had once been, when the captain and his crew had been young and adventurous. A smirk clad Y/N’s lips when she faced the man, her fingers fiddling with the sabre’s handle. “Aye, thought it was about time to dock, Captain Henry. And still I’m not sure if I will take my leave of you when we get there, or if I will meet the navy together with you in the morrow,” her deceptive nature made the captain laugh, for he knew just how little control anyone had over the young pirate. He joined her side with a few strides to the railing, gazing at the sea from the quarterdeck.

“Aye, ye do as ye wish, lassie,” mused the older man, finding his gaze once more sought out her face. “Yer not notorious for knowing every pirate for no reason. Can’t keep ye in place forever” he snickered, his mind on the many rumours he had heard over the past year of the pirate. He had seen it himself a few times too, how the famous Y/N had stepped off one ship only to board another in the same port. Her name was known by all, whether they liked her or not. Her presence on a ship could deter a dispute between two crews, for no one wanted her gone. And those who did were quick to find themselves cornered and silenced for good after voicing such atrocious thoughts aloud.

“Oh shut your gob, “ sneered the woman in reply, earning more laughter from the captain as his head fell back to let the thunderous noise wash over the ship. A simple “Never,” Henry retaliated, winning their argument as he strode to attend his crew and ensure the docking process would flow smoothly. Y/N watched the sea for a moment longer, trained on the horizon in an attempt to find a peculiar ship. One which carried black sails. Fingers carded through her hair as she thought about her old companions, but discarded the thoughts just as quickly. A turn of her heels and the woman came to face the incoming port, nothing she wished to see there either. A defeated smile curled her lips when she ventured to help her current crew, missing the hint of black that rounded a nearby island with a course for their port.

“ Alright, lads!” with easy leaps and muscles bunched for one last jump, Y/N climbed halfway up the crow's nest and gazed down at the many faces who all gave her their full attention.

“ I’m saying this just once because Henry doesn’t seem to be able to get it through your thick skulls. If we don’t get this cargo to the bay within the first few hours of us getting to port, the taverns will be full and the brothels closed,” the crew stared at the woman, most having just woken up from their midday nap. Too many faces were disinterested, the woman sneering maliciously as she knew exactly what would get them on their feet.

“Which means, no ale and no lovers!” Y/N roared, drawing enjoyment from the panic growing in the men’s eyes. They had been at sea for a month now, and the lot needed more than the icy waters could ever offer.

“So unless you wish to mope around the ship for the entire night, alone, get to it!” the crew leapt to their feet, their rushing steps and loud cries satisfying to Y/N’s ears. The pirate’s piercing eyes found the captain who let his chest heave with a sigh, not one to question the woman’s authority. She had gotten the crew off their asses with a single threat, when he had shouted at them all day to get ready. The ship groaned when they threw down the anchor, straining against it as it still wished to traverse further. A gangplank found its hold against the port, the cargo soon to cross over it. Both the captain and Alexandra oversaw the process, to ensure their goods would be gone by the hour.

“Ye know,” Captain Henry spoke after a long while, arms crossed over his broad chest. “Ye should consider becoming a captain one day,” Y/N snapped her head to face the man, eyes threatening to fall out. “Me? A captain?” she ridiculed, shocked by his words. The captain let a snicker pass his lips at her surprise, for being able to shock the immovable Y/N was quite amusing. Work roughened hand, tainted by the deep sea came to rest on his back, clasped together.

“Just sayin’. Ye’ve got the guts and respect for it,” with a smirk the captain passed his current crewmate, stepping onto the railing. “I will leave the rest to ye, for I am in need of a drink,” a wink was sent the woman’s way before Captain Henry made his way down the docks, disappearing without a trace. His back was followed by Y/N’s incredulous gaze.

“You fucking bastard,” Y/N shouted after him, her spiteful words only a show of affection to them both. With a shake of her head and a smirk on her lips growing when she heard the captain’s faraway laughter, the pirate got back to work. With an easy step, she leapt atop the railing, gazing at the crew working by her side.

“We’re making good time, lads! If you keep this up you’re probably going to be one of the first crews of the night to get to the pubs!” Y/N encouraged them. The merry men laughed and cheered whilst their work pace increased tenfold at the praise and promises of entertainment. Even the stand-in captain dared to laugh herself, unaware of how many eyes watched her joy from far out at sea.

It started with Ragetti looking through the captain’s spyglass, minding his own business as they had yet to start preparing to get docked. When turning his eye to the port city, he could tear his wandering gaze when it laid eyes on an extremely familiar figure. Too far away to make out entirely, yet the pirate was certain of who he saw. None he had ever encountered before looked and stood like their old acquaintance.

“Oh, would you look at that!” the pirate laughed, Pintel looking over at him with a raised brow. The spyglass fell from his eye, Ragetti free hand pointing to one of the largest ships docked in the nearing port.

“Y/N is aboard Henry the Savage’s boat!” the words he spoke carried over the deck, the silence that followed deafening, the group trying to comprehend what had just been said. A moment later and the crew rushed like a stampede for the two pirates who shrieked in fright at the threatening approach. The spyglass was taken from Ragetti’s hand and passed to them all to get a look for themselves.

“I can’t see ‘er!”

“Is it really Y/N the Courageous you saw?”

“Courageous? No! Her title is the Unbeatable!

“No, she’s Y/N the Ace of the Sea! The greatest pirate yet!”

The commotion on deck drew Will and Jack from the captain’s cabin, the crew’s loud and incoherent discussions about titles and names soon finding their ears. The former blacksmith was with the crew temporarily, as he had a job to be done with them before they ventured to Port Royal. Both captain and his companion froze in their steps when a well-known name echoed across the crew over and over. A shocked gaze was shared, but the two strode forth together for they could not believe in illusions just because a name was mentioned a few times.

“Right. What’s all this then?” came from the captain’s chest, the crew jumping at the sound of his voice. Jack Sparrow regarded them all with his hands propped on his hips, the loyal blacksmith at his side. Gibbs was the first to speak and took matters into hand, roughly pulling the spyglass from the nearest pirate’s. “It’s Y/N, Jack,” his words piqued further interest in the two newcomers, the two striding through the parting crew to the first mate.

“Y/N?” Will asked, unable to hide the hope that bubbled up in his voice at the mention of her name. The blue eyes grew clearer, not the wistful one’s the crew had come to be familiar with. Jack snatched the spyglass from Gibbs’ offered hand and turned to face the port. With his gaze, he followed the finger pointing at the supposedly familiar pirate. Jack froze upon seeing who they meant, eye narrowing when he stared her down. “No, it can’t be her,” the captain muttered, more to himself than anybody else.

“Far too curvy and longer hair. She didn’t look so cheerful to everyone all the time,” the jealousy and denial dripped from the captain’s tongue, the disbelief he held in his heart fading with each second.

“Can’t be her. No way, you’re all dreaming,” Jack continued before yelping as Will tore the spyglass from his hands, the force of it almost making the captain fall overboard. The blacksmith’s own gaze sought the port for the one they spoke of, his heart beating so quickly it drowned out all sound.

He too came to stand still once he found her form. She stood proud and tall upon Henry the Savage’s railing, her hand thrown out as she barked orders to the crewmates. And there on her lips was a grin, a grin that only the closest of her friends had seen before. Now as she shared it with the rest of the world, the former blacksmith’s blood boiled with jealousy.

“It’s her. There’s no way it’s not her,” Will snarled in reply to Jack’s incessant mumbling, handing the spyglass to Cotton. Will turned to the Black Pearl’s crew, and just like the woman on the other ship, began to bark orders. Where hers had been kind and joyous, he’s were angry and determined orders, none on the ship daring to stand in his way. The desperation in his anger was evident, and the fact that their own Captain Jack did nothing but mumble was a telltale sign that this was a serious matter. Otherwise, Will would have had a sword at his neck for even attempting to command the crew. Their efforts to hurry were doubled, when Jack regained his mind only to shout orders alongside his friend.

Oh, how oblivious the woman they had sought for was, for she heard none of the shouting on the nearing ship. For her well-beloved face was already being shown in one of her favourite taverns.

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write-ur-wrongs · 4 years ago

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Of Monsters and Men (pt. 1)

Summary: Geralt and Jaskier travel to a small seaside village after being hired to take care of a monster that has been terrorizing the villagers for months. However when they arrive, Geralt finds that the monster in question isn’t so easy to kill.

A/N: This was getting to be quite lengthy, so I decided to split it into parts. This is the story I wanted to write when I first started watching the Witcher on Netflix and I am nervous and excited to finally be sharing it here!! Like with all my fics, I try to keep my Y/N has physically non-descript as possible, she/her and vibe are the only descriptors. I’ve also not proof-read but will edit errors as I see them post post lol. I hope y’all enjoy this!! Your feedback is always welcome :’)

this is approx. 2200 words and is largely setting the scene. I expect this to story to be told in no more than 3 parts.

_________________________

When Geralt and Jaskier rode up to the quiet coastal village, they were struck by how calm and peaceful it was. The sound of waves lapping against the rocky shoreline, the rhythmic bumping of boats against the docks, and the soft clatter of driftwood windchimes melted together to create an atmosphere that soothed Jaskier to his core. He found himself gaping at the sights that surrounded him in wonder; truly taken by the way setting sun cast a golden glow on everything and painted the cloud-laced sky in rich hues of pink and orange.

“This place…” he sighed theatrically, waving his arms around, “is wonderful! Geralt are you not moved by the sight of it all? Does your soul not sing out! Oh, Geralt! Wow!”

The witcher only rolled his eyes at his friend’s dramatics. Jaskier was always so blown away by the simplest things and it both amused and annoyed Geralt. Yes, the sky and the sea were beautiful sights, but more importantly, they were merciless vehicles of danger, death, and destruction; and Geralt knew better than to romanticize things that were, at their core, dangerous.

Sensing the bard’s eyes on him, Geralt gave him a hum of acknowledgement hoping it would be enough to satisfy Jaskier’s need for collective appreciation. It was, as he dreaded, insufficient.

“Come now, Geralt!” he enthused, “take that stick out your arse for a moment and appreciate the sights and sounds of this charming inlet! Listen to the sea! The chimes, Geralt! Listen to how the wind tickles the –”

“For fucks sake, Jaskier! It’s a fucking port city just like any other. This place is one bad storm away from being wiped out by that scenic sea of yours!”

“Yeesh,” Jaskier said letting out a low whistle. “Was it the stick in the arse bit? Too far?”

“Jask-”

“- because look, you are very stoic but – and I mean this as a compliment Geralt, so don’t get your leather in a –”

“Jaskier!” Geralt interrupted gruffly as he dismounted Roach with a huff. “Will you please shut up! Let’s just find the stables and the inn and get this over with.” Without waiting for Jaskier to catch up to him, he led his mare deeper into town.

Jaskier, refusing to let Geralt’s gruff exterior get him down, dismounted gracefully and lightly jogged to meet up with him, his lute clacking loudly against his back as he ran.

“Remind me again what dreadful little creature brings us out to this enchanting harbor?” he asked, still jogging a little to keep up with the witcher’s long strides.

“Don’t know yet.”

“Oh, ho-ho! A mystery? Always makes for a good song. What do we know so far?”

Geralt stopped and turned slightly towards the bard before speaking.

“Apparently a creature has been killing and dismembering men in town. They are being killed at all hours, bodies found in town, at sea, or out in the surrounding forests. Seems nowhere is safe.” Geralt let his cat-like eyes linger on the bard’s horrified expression for a moment before turning back and keeping on the path into town, shaking his head at Jaskier’s queasiness.

“Yeesh – Geralt! You’re not serious! Why would you bring me with you!?” Jaskier picked up the pace, suddenly wanting to be closer to his friend.

“You invited yourself,” Geralt said, trying to contain his smile, “as always.”

“Of course, I invited myself! You’re far to proud to admit you’d miss me.” Jaskier retorted. “Let’s get these horses to the stables, get rooms, and find food so that you can sort this out as quickly as inhumanly possible,” he said, speaking quickly and with a light waver, trying to pretend the quaint seaside village around him didn’t now leave him chilled to the bone.

“Hmm,” Geralt chuckled, happy to have managed to scare the bard into silence, at least for the time being.

The local pub was busier than Jaskier had expected when they rode into town. Seems the reason the village was so peaceful upon arrival was because everyone had already made their way to the bar. Fortunately, he’d managed to nab them a table by the stone fireplace; after a day of riding alongside the sea, Jaskier was desperate for a cold ale and a warm fire.

“Alrighty then, Geralt,” Jaskier said, holding his hands up to the hearth, “what have we got so far?”

“Not much,” he replied, tearing apart the loaf of bread a barmaid had brought over moments prior, “a couple people stopped me at the inn to ask me if I was here to kill the beast, but they didn’t have any information to offer besides the fact that it was a constant threat.”

“Well, maybe you’ll have more luck here – I mean look around, you’d think the whole town’s come to drink!”

“Port cities, Jask,” Geralt said, letting his gaze scan the room slowly, “the people here either spend their days at the mercy of the sea or waiting for their loved ones to come home. You drink for sorrow and for hope of a bright tomorrow.”

“That was poetic as fuck, Geralt! My influence?” he teased, shooting the witcher a cheeky grin, who merely grunted distractedly in reply.

Now ignoring his still-talking friend, Geralt’s eyes had landed on the two women working behind the bar. One was talking excitedly and kept casting quick glances toward the bard, blushing brightly when she caught his eye, while the other was watching Geralt with inquisitive eyes.

“… I tell you Geralt the more you allow yourself to – oh! Speaking of which, here come a few now!” Jaskier flourished, winking enthusiastically at the blushing barmaid who was making her way towards them sheepishly.

Geralt sat back in his chair and rolled his eyes, already tired of the flirting he was about to witness. To his surprise and great pleasure, Jaskier got up and met her halfway, leaving him in peace with his thoughts.

Having brought his attention back down to the bread before him, Geralt didn’t notice that he had company until she was right in front of him. Sensing her presence, he shot his gaze up quickly, and found her staring at his wolf medallion with a quirked brow.

“Forgive me,” she started, her deep, velvet-like voice washing over Geralt like morning sun after a cold night, “but you’re… a witcher?”

“I am,” he replied, giving her a crooked smile, his own voice, low and gravely and smooth, not going unnoticed by the woman before him. “Geralt, of Rivia.”

“Oh fuck,” she said, with a breathy sort of laugh, “so you’re not a witcher, you’re the Witcher then, aren’t you?”

Geralt let out a low and modest grunt, shaking his head at the comment. He thought himself immune to the scrutiny and awe that came with being the White Wolf, having carried the title for so long, but there was something about the way she was looking at him that left him shy.

“I’m,” he faltered needing to stop to clear his throat, having made the mistake to look her in the eyes, “just a witcher. Really.”

“Well, they don’t send you out for just anything, do they? For you to be out here in our little hamlet…” she squinted at him with a small tilt of her head, “we must be under some kind of threat. Should I be worried?”

“I was hoping you’d tell me, –” he stopped, waiting for her to introduce herself.

“Y/N,” she replied quickly, offering Geralt a warm smile despite the fact that she’d just crossed her arms, “and I mean we do get the odd ruffian coming through town. They always make a mess of things, don’t they? Beyond that, well, I suppose alcohol does breed violence in some,” she gave a light, one shouldered shrug, “but that’s not the kind of crime that would reach your ears.”

Geralt hummed thoughtfully, taking his time to consider Y/N’s words. She seemed almost too friendly, and there was something about her that both drew him in and had him putting up his guard.

“A monster has been picking the men of the village off one by one.” Leaning back into his chair to put some distance between them. “I’m surprised you wouldn’t be aware, considering,” he nodded towards the bar, “your job here.”

“Meaning what?” she retorted, wearing a playful smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“Only that you must hear a lot,” he gestured vaguely to the crowd surrounding them, “and see a lot, doing what you do. I would have expected that the disappearance and dismemberment of men in town would be something of note.”

“Well,” Y’N tsked, “I’m sorry to say that you’ve been brought out here on something of a fool’s errand. There’s no monster here; the tale of disappearing men has been told here for months. It started with a woman, too embarrassed to admit that the man who impregnated her left her overnight, telling everyone that a creature from the forest killed him. From there the story grew wilder with every retelling.”

“Hm,” Geralt hummed, watching Y/N carefully with narrow eyes, “I was told dismembered body parts were turning up, consistently, after each disappearance, and that they were being identified as belonging to the latest victim. Besides, I was hired to come here. Why would someone pay me coin to rid a town of ghost?”

“People struck by tragedy will claim to see many things, Sir Geralt,” she replied softly, “not all of them will be true. A dead fish floating at sea, a creature mauled by wolves by the roads, rotten meats abandoned by vendors…” she shrugged, “the mind will twist the truth in order to bring comfort. Who hired you?”

She added that last question quickly, and Geralt could tell it was calculated. Sensing this, he only replied with a quirked brow and a tilt of his head.

Y/N betrayed no sense of frustration when she realized the Witcher wasn’t going to elaborate. Instead, her eyes softened, and she smiled at Geralt with what he perceived as pity.

“Look, the truth is that there is no monster here. Isn’t that right Thalia?”

“Sorry, what?” Thalia, who had just walked back over the Geralt’s table with a tray of ales in her hands, was breathlessly giggling at something Jaskier had whispered in her ear. As she and Jaskier placed four ales on the table, Y/N took a seat across from the Witcher and quickly explained got the two up to speed.

“Oh goodness, that! I can not believe our town’s little lore made it to your ears, Sir Geralt!” She said with wide eyes as she snuggled up next to Jaskier, clinking her tankard with his before taking a generous sip.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Jaskier coughed on his ale, “you’re telling me there’s no monster here? That we might actually be able to enjoy a little rest and relaxation here without any horrible monster-killing business? Geralt this is good news!” he exclaimed, smacking his free hand on the table for emphasis.

Geralt only growled out a hum in response, never taking his eyes off Y/N.

“I’ll admit,” Thalia continued, seemingly unaware of the tension between the Witcher and her friend, “it’s scary to think about – you know, murder – but when you actually think about who disappears, it’s not difficult to see the truth.”

At this, Geralt turned his fierce gaze away from Y/N. “What do you mean, ‘who disappears’?”

“O-only that the men who leave aren’t really the type that anyone would miss.” She replied, stuttering a little against her best efforts to not recoil at Geralt’s inhuman eye-contact. “They were mean, violent types. The kind of man that would get crueler the more he drank. Just, awful, evil men, right Y/N?”

Y/N nodded quickly in agreement, taking a slow sip of her ale. “Good riddance.”

“Exactly!” Thalia agreed, clinking her glass to Y/N’s.

“Hell, I’ll drink to that,” Jaskier laughed, before picking his lute up off the floor. “What do you say ladies, a song?”

Thalia cheered loudly and encouraged the rest of the patrons to listen to the bard, letting them all know that he was in fact, the one who traveled with the great White Wolf. Jaskier was positively floating from the adoration as he danced around the pub, pulling cheers and applause after every song.

All the while, Geralt never took his eyes off of Y/N, who had retreated back to the bar after finishing her drink.

Geralt wasn’t sure what to believe. He had a strange feeling about this place from the moment he and the bard arrived, and it frustrated him to no end that even after hours in town, he was no closer to understanding the source of his discomfort. One thing was for certain, something about the story he heard here tonight did not add up, and he definitely didn’t trust its source.

Y/N was standing behind the bar washing glasses, but she wasn’t focused on the task at hand. Instead, her eyes were trained on the crowd before her. Geralt watched her as she scanned the pub with calm, slow-moving eyes that jumped from patron to patron.

The witcher was distracted for a moment when Jaskier sauntered into his sightline, singing a loud chorus of Toss a Coin to Your Witcher. Despite himself, Geralt couldn’t help but smile at the bard, whose face was flushed from the ales and the exertion.

However, as Geralt watched Jaskier twirl across the crowded pub, something in his peripheral vision made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

Y/N had turned he head and was staring right at him with a pair of pitch-black eyes.

Like a shot, Geralt turned his gaze to the woman behind the bar – his heart beating loudly in his ears – only to find her smiling warmly at him, her eyes their normal shade.

Instinctively, Geralt brought his hand up to his wolf-head medallion, hoping it would signal the presence of some supernatural evil. But he felt nothing.

He didn’t know what she was, but she was not human.

#the witcher fanfiction #the witcher x reader #the witcher netflix #the witcher fandom #fanfiction requests #fanfiction #fanfic #the witcher series #geralt of rivia #witcher geralt #witcher fic #witcher fanfiction #witcher x reader #toss a coin to your witcher #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt x y/n #geralt x you #geralt x reader #Jaskier

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writinglionqueen · 4 years ago

Text

An Impatient Man

Photo credit to @thewrestlingobsessor

At first the cheers of the village grabbed at your curiosity. How loud they were....and for what? But then you heard it, on the lips of your servants as they rushed to-an-froe in the grand hall while you sat upon Drew’s grand chair.

“The King is back!” They shouted, scurrying to ensure their duties done. “He’s back! They won!”

Your king...he was back? He had won the war?

You stood to your feet just in time to see the doors to the grand hall swing open. A spew of soldiers came in, but leading the frock was none other than your pig-headed king.

The sight of him made your heart quicken. The way he was dressed only in his boots and his kilt, colored to represent his family name, a brilliant blue and black...him having forgone a shirt for the trek back to the keep made your body thrum with new life. Even with all the small cuts that littered his naked torso. His own blood crusted on those wounds though, keeping them from spilling anymore blood down his built body. Your king was not too mangled or hurt that you rushing towards him didn’t make him flinch. For his arms were held open as you ran to him, finding your solace within them as he held you close to his heart.

“My queen,” Drew murmured to you, “we won. We beat every one of those bastards from the South.” You looked up at his face, seeing his proud smile and bright blue eyes you loved so much.

You could care less if he won a war. God, you couldn’t give a damn what battle he won. He was home now and within your grasp. You could finally touch him again.

Without prompt or warning, you reached for his head, quickly bringing him down low enough for your lips to reach his. And Drew....Drew was happy to oblige in kissing his queen. He made a deep happy noise of pleasure as he kissed you just as deep and passionate as you gave him.

The two of you could care less about the hoots and jeers from the men. Most of them didn’t know what you and Drew were feeling. This was more than they could understand. To them, all they probably could infer was their king about to bed a woman, and not bed a wife. To some, they’d only bed the women in the inns, not caring for who that woman could be. They were only boys thinking that winning a war made them a man. They wouldn’t know what made them a man, until they were missing a woman that sported their rings on their fingers with pride.

You pulled away from Drew’s lips, taking on air as your eyes met his. Your king’s lips turned up into a small smirk, one that meant enticing fun. You looked away, your fingers coming up to run across the plans of your husband’s torso, feeling the muscle and hair beneath your light touches.

“Men!” Drew declared throughout the hall, looking up at his men who all had found a table to sit in. “Eat and be merry till your heart’s content!” That notion made the men cheer as servants were quick to bring hot meals and ale to every single man who was sitting. The room filled with the noise of tales and laughter as the men but, it didn’t stop your king from being the man you knew him to be, for he leaned down, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear and in a growl so deep, it had you shivering in upmost delight, he quietly said, “I’m gonna go bed my wife.”

You let out a shaky breath before your king scooped you up in his arms and lead you off to your shared chambers. He was quick to deposit you onto the grand bed after locking the door behind the two of you. It only took seconds for his lips to be upon yours once your back was on the bed and he was looming over you. As an impatient man, he didn’t even bother to take you out of your dress or even remove his kilt. He just hiked up your skirts, moved his plaid out of the way before making your legs wrap around his waist.

You could already feel your wetness coat your sex within the first few minutes you and Drew has kissed in the grand hall. You had been aching for your king since the first day he was gone. And now that you could touch him and he could touch you, it didn’t take much for your excitement to get the better of you. And Drew...well...he could get hard at a moment’s notice. He probably had been aching for you just the same.

So without much work, your king pushed himself into your wet heat, making you throw you head back to gasp. Your king growled, his teeth nipping at the column of your throat as he bottomed out, fully sheathed in you.

“My Queen,” Drew growled. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for weeks.” You could say nothing but gasp as he set on a quick pace, one that told of his urgency and passion for you. All you could do was hold onto your king, one hand resting on the back of his neck while the other one was planted on his naked back. His thrusts made your toes and fingers curl deliciously, It made your nails dig into the meat of Drew’s back, making them rake down. Drew gave a groan at that, his hips never faltering.

Drew moved so his face was inches from yours, watching you come apart beneath his form. Your eyes fluttering in the absolute pleasure of your king nailing the spot inside you that made your blood roar in your ears. It felt too good.

“God, I love this sight,” he growled in appreciation. You tried to look at him, focus on those brilliant blue eyes of his, but even that was hard as he was giving you such pleasure. He lowered himself once more, his forearms caged your head. His hips shifted, creating a new angle that allowed Drew’s cock to nudge that sweet spot inside you while rubbing your clit with every thrust he offered you. And you took it. You took it all. You took everything he was giving you with little whimpers and moans and cries of your king’s name. The feeling had your back arching, a deep cry leaving your lips and Drew moaned to watch you like that.

But then your hand tightened in his dark hair, using it as leverage to bring him down once more to kiss you. And he did. He swallowed your moans and cries, his tongue tasting each one as it licked into your mouth.

Your climax was upon you. You could feel it in the way your tummy started to flutter, feel that feeling deep within yourself, feel your core flutter around your king. Your own cries louder in your throat. And all was met with your king’s growl. He pulled away, his lips red and shiny with spit as he watched you in awe.

“Come on, my queen, give it to me,” he said to you. “Let me feel you.” A whimper passed your lips, a whine for your king, at his words.

“Drew,” you cried. Your legs tightened around his waist. “God, Drew.”

“Yes,” your king growled. “Yes.”

“Drew!” you cried one last time as your climax surged through your body. Your core holding your king like a vice and your tummy tightening just the same. You couldn’t help but clenched your eyes closed, getting lost in the euphoric feeling as your king cradled your head, holding you as his orgasm followed yours. His hot seed flooding your core had you shivering in delight. Drew thrusted into you a couple more times before his hips finally came to a halt.

The two of you were panting, coming down from the ecstatic you two shared. Your king was still cradling your head when your eyes fluttered open to peer up at him. His own blue eyes fluttered open to take in your face, flushed with pleasure. Even with the sweat dotting along his brow and his cheeks red from exertion, your king was still a gift from heaven. And you let him know as much as you pulled his head down to give him a lingering kiss. He kissed back sweetly, sighing into your mouth.

When he pulled away this time, he pressed his forehead against yours. He gave a happy sigh.

“I’ve missed you,” he murmured.

“I’ve missed you as well,” you murmured back. Drew chuckled.

“Aye, I know, my queen,” he said before pecking your lips, “I’ve missed this as well.” Drew went on to your cheek and then nipped along your neck, making you hum as your hands lifted to card your fingers through his hair.

“I kinda wished you would’ve taken me out of this dress,” you sighed to Drew. It was a tease that had your king chuckling along your skin. His beard tickled and made the skin of your collarbone tingle in its wake. He peered into your eyes and you looked down at him, smiling.

“Well, you know that I’m an impatient man,” he said lowly, scooting up again to be face to face with you. The low tone of his voice sent a thrill through your body.

His hand moved down your shoulder at his words, sliding all the way to your belly before proceeding to smooth up your torso and to the ties of the dress.

“But for the next round, I guess the dress can come off,” he murmured. A gasp left you at the feeling of his member twitching inside you. Your hands scrambled to find purchase somewhere. Drew languidly rolled his hips against yours with a chuckle, not having bothered to pull himself out of you. The action had your head spinning, and his words that came next had your mind reeling for your king was always good on his word.

“I won’t be as impatient, my queen.”

Drew won so we all won last night. I mean....with an entrance like what he gave us....god there had to be no other choice than Drew winning and I was living for every moment of it. Like....it gave me such a visual of what King Drew looked like. I’m happy. I can die happy. Also I love to take a second to appreciate the fact I now have 1200 followers....and...I’ve only been in this fandom for 2 years. That’s fucking crazy. I love you all though. Thanks for loving my fics, loving Drew with me, and just being awesome. Stay awesome coz we’re thriving out here in Claymore Country!!! ~The Queen of Claymore Country (self proclaimed) 💛🖤👑

Tag: @acon1120 @adriennegabriella @amandalynngraves @amariemoore @andie01 @annoyingasian @ar3le @artemisapalla316 @ashkrystal @astolenheartnkiss @axelwolf8109 @baemcintyre @balorstrowmanblackmurphy @beckyann6879 @bigbabyscottishpsychopath @brownskinafro @calicina @calwitch @claymoreme @commando-claymore @crossfitjesusinblackskinnyjeans @curlyafrogirl @daddyslittlevillain @dalia-corven @darlingambrose @dcnmarvelgamergeek @demonqueen29 @drew-is-boo @drewshoneybadger @drewmcintyrekoccsrocbwdgfan @fabulousrockstar @fireyegale @fivefootxo @flawlessglamazon @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @gold--gucciempress @hardcoresweet45 @heel-rollins @homeorbust @ihavenowilltolivelol @i-have-saracasm @itsicantbelievethis666 @jazzy-tzw @jeffhardyenigmawwefan @junglecassidy @kalliravenne @lilred91 @littlesuperstar @madebypointlesswerewolves @malethirsty @meishaabae @melblacc @meremaidqueen @midnight--luna @monocromaticstaircase @morenokatt @moxleysbaby @moxley-unhinged @mox-made-me-do-it @moxnmurphy @moxtiel @neversatisfiedgirl @nevertoofarfromivar @new-zealand-chic @nicolewoo @nothinginlifebutgreif @number1120 @ofbeornandbjorn @pandaluver96 @queenofthearchitect @saiyandude @sassymox @savemeroman @scuzmunkie @sebstanismylife @shieldgirl18 @shortyiceheart @slytherinyourrpants @softmoxymuffin @superrezzy00 @taryn-dibiase @thatnerdwriter @thatpanpal @the-beastslayers-queen @thehoundsofjustice @thepalaceofmelanie @theworldofotps @thewrestlingwarehouse @trashofambrolleigns @twistedbeautifully @unabashedwrestlefics @undiscovereddisneyroyalty @undisputedmorgs @unprettypeony @voidstrugh @waywardwrestlewritingwaif @welcome-to-lovecraft-country @xbreezymeadowsx @yaint-me @youcantreignonmyparade

#drew mcintyre #drew mcintyre x reader #my king #my king series #drew mcintyre smut #smut

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aries-rising-on-an-aquarius-tide · 4 years ago

Text

Evocations: XII

Alexandra couldn't decide what was worse - that she was jealous over a perfect stranger openly flirting with Olivia, or the fact that she knew it was irrational. It wasn't like her, to be either jealous or irrational; her reputation was for being calm to the point of coldness under pressure.

But nothing, when it came to Olivia, was cold.

Alex ran a finger through the condensation on her drink's glass, glancing up for what seemed like the hundredth time at the woman having a smiling conversation with Liv. The strange blonde giggled and found an excuse to touch Liv's forearm, causing Alex to deathgrip her glass as her eyes narrowed.

It didn't help that Olivia's gaydar was piss-poor. She was an incredible detective, smart and intuitive when it came to victims or chasing sex offenders. Flirting, though, sent the brunette into a foreign land where she seemed to lack both language and direction. Unless she stripped her clothes off and made an obvious move, Alex assumed Liv wouldn't even realize that this aggressive blonde was interested.

Is it because it's a woman? Alex wondered, scrutinizing her jealousy. She had never been jealous in the past, with other girlfriends. Perhaps, without realizing it, she had been unconcerned about losing them. Olivia had never given her reason to worry about infidelity, never - and they had been together over a year and a half.

Tipping her drink to her mouth, Alex looked over at the two women again, finding the nameless blonde now gesturing in the direction of the bar - likely offering to buy Liv a drink. Alex sucked an ice cube from her glass and crunched it between her teeth, her jealousy simmering in her belly.

She wasn't oblivious to the amount of attention that Olivia constantly drew. Alex was well aware that her partner was stunning, and usually, seeing others stumble over themselves like stuttering, blushing fools just made Alex more proud that she was hers. This time, this night . . . everything seemed off-kilter.

Sighing, she drained the glass, chewed more ice, and looked over again. But they were gone.

Not just the stranger - Liv, too. Both gone.

Alexandra startled to her feet off her bar stool as her chest was gripped with blazing anxiety and anger. She forced herself to take a breath and swept her gaze all around the room, sure that she was just panicking over nothing. But her eyes weren't deceiving her - Olivia was nowhere in the room.

Grabbing her clutch purse, Alex left her glass of melting ice and started in the direction of the restroom, as it was the most logical assumption. Beneath the surface of her skin, she could feel her irritation buzzing like a live wire.

While there were people in the restroom, Liv nor the blonde was among them. Alex took the time to splash cold water on her wrists and back of her neck in an attempt to think clearly. In spite of this attempt, she felt her anxiety tip over into real upset, and her stomach cramped.

She charged back through the bar - as best a tall woman in heels can charge - and plowed through the double glass doors into the cool evening. Her gaze scanned up and down the sidewalk among the people milling about, first left and then right. The second look to the right, Alexandra finally spotted them, down the sidewalk away from the others.

Liv was laughing as the other woman tossed a cigarette to the pavement and stamped it out. Alex swallowed dryly as the two women hugged, and Olivia held open the door to the taxi at the curb, ushering the blonde inside. For just a breath, Alex's heart stilled completely, imagining her lover getting into the cab with the woman and driving away, taking her entire life with her.

Then she blinked, her heart started again, and the cab was pulling away as Liv was coming back down the sidewalk in Alexandra's direction. When she got past some of the people, Olivia noticed Alex where she stood, arms crossed over her chest, still strangling her clutch bag.

"Hey! What're you doing out here in the cold?" she asked Alex with a curious grin.

"Who was that?" Alex's voice was flat, and controlled. It was her about-to-cross-examine voice.

"We went to college together," Liv answered, glancing back in the direction of the long-gone black and yellow. "Just an old acquaintance."

Alex rolled her eyes, exhaling heavily. Liv raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"An acquaintance. She was flirting, Olivia."

A laugh bubbled out of Liv before she could catch it. "What?! Al, don't be ridiculous," she shook her head.

"That's what you always say," Alex returned, "but just because you're oblivious doesn't mean no one is flirting!'

"It doesn't mean everyone is flirting, either!"

Alex threw her hands out in front of her and huffed, then opened her clutch and rooted for keys. They had been renting an SUV for a few weeks, toying with the idea of jointly buying a vehicle, and it was parked in a lot behind the drink club.

"I'm going home. You can come, or not," she tossed off, and turned in the direction of the parking lot.

"Alex, you - " Liv started, but the ADA was already moving, and she had to lurch forward to hurry after her, "You can't be serious!"

"I'm perfectly serious."

"We hardly spoke!"

"Imagine, the concept of body language," Alex deadpanned, "playing a part in flirting. A novelty."

"'Lex. You were drinking and I wasn't; give me the keys," Olivia tried, changing tactics.

"Are you accusing me of being drunk?"

"Not at all, I would just prefer to drive."

They had made it to the vehicle, and Alex stopped within a foot of the driver's side door. "Would you really? Like to drive?" she asked.

"Yes," Liv nodded, and moved to take the keys, which Alexandra pulled away and up at the last moment, dangling them in her hand above her head.

"Then you'll have to arrest me. Detective," she taunted.

Running out of patience, Liv sighed and moved into Alex's space, their bodies aligning as she pressed her into the cold metal of the SUV, reaching for the keys.

"Is that what you want? Me to handcuff you?" the brunette chuckled, making sure to brush against the sensitive inside of Alex's wrist. But the look in the blonde's eyes was still heavy with nerves, making Liv still.

"Alex. Why were you so worried? Have I ever given you reason - "

"Of course not," she said immediately. "But . . . "

"But what?"

"Everybody always wants you," Alex said quietly, blushing faintly, feeling ridiculous now that her fear was fading.

"Oh. Mm," Liv acknowledged. "Well, you know who I want?" she murmured. The blonde met her gaze, but didn't speak. She pressed Alex even harder against the door, leaning toward her mouth. "I want you."

Alexandra suppressed her grin and tipped her head up, forcing Olivia's kiss to land on her neck instead of her mouth. "Only me?"

"Only you," Liv confirmed.

"I want you, too," Alex sighed, melting into the press of warm kisses down her neck. She slipped her arms around Liv, pulling her mouth up to kiss her. "To myself," she added, "just mine ."

"Yours," Liv nodded.

Alex cupped a breast through the brunette's sensible button-up. "Mine?"

"Yours."

The hand curved around and down, gripping her ass through her pants. "Mine?"

Olivia nodded again. Alex's hand slid gently between Liv's thighs, sending a shock of desire through her. "And this?"

"Of course."

Finally, Alex brought her hand back up, pressing it firmly against Olivia's chest over her heart.

"Yours," Liv said, without hesitation.

Alex felt like she could breathe again as she nudged the keys into Olivia's palm. "Drive me home," she murmured, "so I can show you what's yours."

#law and order svu #svu #olivia benson #alex cabot #alexandra cabot #cabenson #hearteyes4mariska #my writing #evocations #first jealousy #tender #fluff #jealousy #sorry this took forever #i have been down and out #my fanfic

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desiraypark · 4 years ago

Text

Ominous (2/2)

CHARACTERS: Adam Sackler x Brenda “Bree” Sackler x Jessa Johannson CONTENT: I’m sorry. PART ONE

“Adam!”

Adam didn’t want to seem ungrateful, but fuck, he just wanted to get home. He wanted to catch a fucking cab, get home and shower, call Bree--maybe jack off--and go to bed. Having fans was great but having a nice apartment that he could walk around in with his balls out was even better. Adam heard his name and his 180 was almost complete when the voice registered. Among the ever-moving scatter of pedestrians--there she was.

“Jessa?”

She’d let her hair grow out again. The emerald green dress looked perfect on her, as did her signature red lipstick. She smiled and waved awkwardly, then walked toward him. He finally unplanted his feet, met her halfway, and gave her a hug.

“How are you?” he asked.

“I’m great. Not as great as you, though--superstar!”

Adam blushed, tilted his head, and looked away from Jessa. Of course, in turning away, he was only greeted by a poster near the entrance of the Hudson Theatre--"Adam Sackler” in a large font on the glossy sheet. If he took a few steps back, he’d see his name on the theater’s marquee. Jessa began to dig in her purse.

“I actually wanted to come last night, but I figured things would be too hectic for you to stop and chat with an old friend.”

She found her pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

Adam looked past the top of Jessa’s head, not wanting to be tempted by the smell of tobacco and nicotine. “Yeah, it was pretty busy last night. Nothing abnormal.” His eyes returned to hers. “But I still would have spoken to you.”

Jessa blew a puff of smoke and chuckled. “Would your wife have been okay with that?”

Air left Adam’s nostrils in a scoff. He looked Jessa square in the eyes and shook his head. “You don’t even know her.”

Jessa placed her free hand on her hip and rolled her eyes. “It was a joke, Adam. Don’t be such a curmudgeon.”

"Well, she would have been happy to meet you. So...”

“That’s good to know,” Jessa said, slightly bowing her head. “I suppose you’re ready to get home to her.”

Adam chewed on the interior of his lip. His eyes scanned the street--looking beyond the heads moving along the sidewalks. “Yeah...”

Jessa nodded and leaned forward in a slight lunge. She looked Adam in the eyes. “I’m very proud of you. Happy for you. And, I’m sorry for how things ended between us.”

Adam shrugged. “Well, I haven’t been holding any grudges. Have you?”

Jessa’s eyes narrowed and she blew more smoke into the air. “No. No, I haven’t.”

The diverse sounds of footsteps filled the air. The wheels of vehicles squeaked to slow stops. Adam and Jessa became reluctant to look at each other.

“Do you want to grab a cup of coffee?” Jessa asked.

He looked into Jessa’s eyes, and for the first time in past couple of minutes, he noticed loneliness in them. Melancholy. A sad story she’d been writing for about five years. Again, he looked away. But he nodded.

“Sure.”

~~~~~~

Adam had made numerous bad decisions the entire night--saying ‘yes’ to a cup of coffee. Then, ‘yes’ to another cup with a pastry. Jessa was lonely these days--and he wasn’t. Guilt nipped at his heart.

Maybe they could be friends again, however. She looked like she needed one.

He’d said ‘yes’ to a short walk--and ‘yes’ to continuing the walk to his fancy apartment--a far cry from the apartment they once shared. He’d made the mistake of ignoring Bree’s call. It was just one call.

And he’d made the mistake of holding Jessa’s hand to assure her that she would be okay. That she would find love and drive again. He made the mistake of gazing into her eyes once more.

~~~~~~

Adam washed the bedding twice the next morning--a Thursday--making sure to add a few drops of Bree’s lemon oil inside. He called Bree to apologize for missing her call. He spent Saturday cleaning the apartment more than it needed to be clean--sweeping a dustless floor, vacuuming the pristine carpeting. The fridge was full, but still, he bought some of Bree’s favorite things: ice cream, Bruce Cost Ginger Ale, and three packs of Ghirardelli chocolate squares. It was Sunday afternoon when she touched down in New York.

The North Carolina sun had been good to her--adding a glow to her skin. He caught her big smile and he saw it quickly disappear. His brain told him to rush to her and take her in his arms, but his feet wouldn’t move. She noticed. And he knew that she noticed. Suddenly, Adam felt like he didn’t deserve her.

But he had to prove to himself that he did. She could never know what he’d done...

Even when he’d managed to do it two more times.

~~~~~~

THE SUNDAY AFTERNOON IN AUGUST

For a brief second, his dick hardened at the sound of Jessa’s name rolling off his own lips--still fresh from three nights before, the second and last time. But immediately, he fell limp inside of his wife. His eyes met her face, frozen and horrified. Her breasts rested near the sides of her chest--nipples rising up and down with her deep breaths.

“I knew it...” she mumbled. “I fucking knew it!”

Bree climbed from Adam’s lap and rushed away from bed. He remained in his spot, frozen and guilty. Bree shook her head and fought back tears.

“Who the fuck is Jessa?”

Unable to look at Bree, Adam stared at his feet and listened to his own breath. “My ex.”

The sounds of New York City spilled into the Sacklers’ bedroom, overpowering the couple’s audible breaths.

“I’m sorry,” Adam mumbled. Finally, he looked up Bree’s face. She shook her head, and snatched her robe from the back of the door and rushed out of the bedroom.

Adam couldn’t afford to keep his feet planted this time. He jumped out of the bed with a sheet tied around his waist and followed Bree into the kitchen. Right away, she went for the cabinet and pulled out a bottle of bourbon that she kept tucked away. Cheap bourbon for her culinary experiments. Bourbon that she hid from Adam. Bourbon whose hiding spots she frequently changed because she loved him so much.

Before she got the cap off, Adam wrapped his arms around her and crushed her with his body. “I’m sorry, honey. I’m sorry...”

“Get off of me!” she demanded--her voice soft, but low with a slight rumble. Adam obliged and was thanked with a slap to the face. Tears welled in his eyes--not because of the sting on his cheek, but the sting in his heart.

He didn’t raise his voice at Bree, and she didn’t raise hers at him. Adam and Bree didn’t throw things at each other or scream “fuck you’s” across the room. He found peace in Bree--Brenda, his wife, his partner. Now, they would no longer know peace. And it was all his doing.

Bree had shocked herself. But Adam’s tears enraged her. How dare he let a tear fall? She drew back her hand with the plastic bottle still tucked in her palm, but Adam grabbed her wrists and held her against the counter--the counter that had been marked three times with their cum and sweat: when they first moved in, when Adam was nominated for a Tony, and when Bree returned from a week in North Carolina.

“Stop...” Adam whispered--the veins pulsing in his fingers as he held Bree’s wrists tight.

Bree looked up at him again. Guilt painted his silent face--and it had since May. It had coated his voice the morning after he ignored her phone call that night. He didn’t put a mask on--that guilt had been there for months. And suddenly, Bree hated herself. She hated herself for not identifying the guilt right away.

She sank to her knees and sobbed. Adam fell with her and pulled her into his arms--the sheet had long abandoned his hips, leaving Adam bare and flaccid to Bree.

“I’m sorry. I don’t have any excuse, babe. It’ll never happen again. I’m so sorry...”

Bree’s shoulders bounced as Adam’s chest absorbed her tears. She stared into the dining room--the table, chairs, and painting looked wavy behind the coating of the salty water in her eyes.

She didn’t know this Jessa. She didn’t know what she looked like. But now, despite her clouded vision, she saw her sitting at her dining table--certain to stare back at her until divorce and/or death did her and Adam part.

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astronomical-bagel · 3 years ago

Note

uh ok, First how did you get your url?

second, is there a particular tumblr post you think about frequently?

and what wips were you mentioning?

Well, my twin and I were bored at our school’s Christmas pageant in junior high, and this was in the height of vine, so we were quoting vines at each other. Also, because I was in junior high and also space is fucking cool, I was really into drawing stars. So, after me and my twin quoted the “bagel boys” vine at each other, guess what I drew? A bagel surrounded by stars! So I went “Holy shit that would make an awesome tumblr url” and a couple years later, I got a tumblr!

and yes there is in fact a tumblr post that I think of a lot, but it’s not the full one. it’s just the line “What’s the point of having a glass house if you’re not throwing stones?” and I think that fucking METAL

and and an theres this awesome cloneinnit au that someone made and I’m writign a fic for it, and I just want to show you the brilliance of this

Okay okay you see this?? You see this?? Terminal: O, his gender is male (M), the Yield of the project was just 1, which means that his serial number is just 1. His incubation method was transgenic (meaning he’s a clone). Yes yes all good all good correct? It makes sense? It’s cool?

AND GUESS WHAT IT SPELLS KIND TRAVELLER. GUESS.

T(erminal):O

M(ale)

Y(ield): 1

N(umber):1

T(ransgenic)

AND YOU BUT THAT ALL TOGETHER AND YOU GET:

TOMY1N1T

IM SO FUCKING COOL!!! I MADE A READABLE AND MEANINFUL ID NUMBER!!!!

a lot of people just, Y’know, make the I’s into 1s or the Es into 3s, (and that’s not like,,, shade or anything, I spent a long time fudging things and trying to make things work, and I got lucky his name had so many 1s in it) but I’m just so proud of myself for making that ID code I just sjjdkfksn

anywyas thank you for letting me ramble

#astronomical asks #starry ink

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choco-glow · 4 years ago

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Fall Like Rain On Sunday, Pt. 4

Steph stared at the gourmet waffle menu with a look bordering on worship, and Jason hid a smile behind his menu, eyes skimming the breakfast platters as his stomach reminded him that Pentabux at six am didn’t keep a belly full all day. He’d been planning to invite just Steph out on a special day…might as well call it a date, Todd, because it sure as hell is after those kisses earlier. God, I’ve been in love for months now, but tonight…He studied her adorably messy ponytail, all full curls as natural as his own, her gorgeous dress and the way it flowed over her amazing figure, those eyes so full of love and life and joy even after the hell she’d been through…the drill-scars on her arms and lower legs.

The scars had healed over enough that if she was moving, you barely saw them; she certainly didn’t care if his scarred ass saw them anymore, not after the last six months of training in shorts and a croptop in his warehouse sparring arena. After all, Jason’s own scars started on his forearms and lower legs too, and mapped out over his back and chest, with the edge of one just barely visible into his hairline on the back of his neck…We haven’t talked scars, but…well, maybe it’s the whole dead thing, or just a Narrows thing, or just…two people who get one another thing. But I don’t feel self-conscious with her, and I don’t think she feels too much with me. It’s…comforting, and falling in love with her? It’s just icing on the cake.

Jason hadn’t ever expected to really get married when he was a kid; it wasn’t important then. And when he became Robin, he was still young enough and naive enough to not care; he was Robin! He had Batman! He didn’t need anything else…

I need that now…and Jason hoped Steph might need it too. Might want it too. But that was hatching his chickens before he’d even gotten the eggs, so he flicked his eyes over the menu once again, and decided on the extra large breakfast platter, with waffles instead of pancakes and extra bacon.

“Jay, what are you ordering?” Steph murmured, still gazing in wonder at the varieties, and he smiled, setting his menu to the side and propping his head in one hand.

“I’m thinkin’ the big platter for me, with waffles and more bacon.”

“…oh god, that sounds good, but they have an amazing looking mixed berry waffle combo…” She showed him, looking dazzled by it, and he groaned a little.

“That looks great, babe…tell you what, you could get that, and we can share?” She brightened at that, and when their waiter came back over, Steph ordered with glee, making sure to get extra eggs too, and hash browns (and Jason didn’t mind at all, he was swooning at how cute she looked), then settled back, looking happy and sipping her coffee with a sigh. He sipped his too, relaxing at the rush of caffeine, and she gave him a shy smile. “Something on your mind, sweetheart?”

“…You?” He grinned at that, color high on his cheeks, and leaned over to kiss her, lingering and squeezing her free hand.

“Same here…I know we…haven’t talked in depth about dating, but…um…”

“Yes. Yes, a thousand times, yes…I can talk to you, and with you, and I…you make me feel loved and encouraged, and so damn happy, Jason.” He blushed at that, really blushed, because he had sincerely been trying his hardest to make her feel good about herself…after what Tim had done, and oh, Jason wanted to beat the fuck out of that annoying fuckin’ twerp, even still. But it was also in the little things, like how proud he was of her being a good mom to her baby, especially because she’d given the little girl up for adoption. How Steph worked on campus, did full college hours, and patrolled the Narrows with him every night. How she always made his heart leap with joy when she smiled at him.

“…I’m glad…” He murmured, then took a deep breath. “I wanted you to feel good, baby. I mean that. You…fuck, you’ve had to deal with so much, so so so much over the years…and you’re barely twenty-one, and it’s just utter bullshit that no one else has ever had a goddamn good word to say to you, except maybe Al and Dick.”

“And you.” Steph’s immediate response made him blush again, but he firmed his chin, nodding, even though that one hit him hard in the heart.

“…and me. Always me. I mean that. I…know I was a grumpy asshole the night we met…” She chuckled, and he felt a grin touch his lips again, because he remembered that night well, and the grumpy façade had dropped like a concrete boot in the bay when she’d suckerpunched Red Robin for ordering her about.

“Oh, I can forgive that, considering you weren’t grumpy for long.”

“Hell no, I wasn’t after that punch, I think I was equal parts horny and oh-god-marry-me.” Steph laughed at that, really laughed, her bright giggle filling the restaurant, and though Jason was sure this swanky place would get them glared at…people actually looked happy to see a young couple laughing and joking, and he felt a warmth settle over his whole being.

“He was being such an ass, and I know he was doing that to get a rise out of both of us…but, honestly, it felt good to tell him where to shove it and punch him in the nose. I was better off patrolling with you anyway, and I think that first night, even with all the awkwardness of getting to know one another’s tactics, was still better than my first night with B and Tim.” Jason laughed at that, deep in his chest, and leaned over to kiss her again, warm and hot and so so happy.

“…That’s the best compliment I’ve ever been paid, baby. Thank you.” Her eyes softened, and she raised the hands they’d entwined together, kissing his knuckles with a tenderness that took his breath away. He couldn’t remember anyone ever being so gentle with him…

“The best one I’ve ever gotten was the day you told me I was a better Robin than Tim.” She murmured, and Jason gently drew their hands back to his lips, kissing her knuckles this time. “You were so honest and pure about it…”

“It’s true.” She sucked in a breath now, eyes wide, and Jason kissed her wrist, eyes locked on hers. “You’re intuitive and smart, you’re an amazing detective…but you have something that Tim still hasn’t mastered. That even Damian has in spades, and that poor kid’s as fucked up as I am.”

“…what’s that…” She whispered, and Jason smiled, warm and real and happy.

“You’ve got a Robin’s kind heart.”

#JaySteph #Stephanie Brown #Jason Todd #gothambysunlight #solarpunkgotham #friendstolovers #waffleworship #Jason 100% has been planning the waffle date for a month #I do like Tim #but #he's not the nicest of Robins in the comics at least #I'm actually pretty fond of the Arkham verse Tim #but Jay is bae

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tonio-dawson · 4 years ago

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A crossroad

Antonio x Halstead!Reader

Word count: 1,783

Summary: AU where Antonio stays in the unit until season 7 (because I don’t like how he got written out :)). He found himself at a crossroad where he thinks he isn’t the right fit for the team anymore. Reader is Jay’s sister working as a Detective at another precinct.

Antonio walked up to your place, you could hear his footsteps even before his keys reached your apartment door. “It’s not lock-” you screamed from your kitchen but he already made his way inside. He took off his boots and his jacket, and made his way to the fridge and pulled out a beer.

You looked at him, he hadn’t said a word but he glanced at you finally recognizing your presence. “Sorry babe, thought you’re still at work,” he said while taking a swig leaning back to the fridge. His jaw clenched, his eyes were filled with fire, as if he’s ready for a fight.

“Woah, I’d say welcome home, but what happened? Rough day?” You turned to him, spatula on your hand. “Something like that,” he sighed.

“Wanna talk about it over this Arroz con Pollo once it’s ready?” You asked softly.

“I guess,” he gulped his beer this time.

“And maybe give your girlfriend a kiss before you go shower and change?” you walked toward him this time, pursing a smile.

His gazed softened as he reached his arms out to you and pulled you into a hug, “I’m sorry. It’s been really tough at the office today. And we’ve promised each other not to let work gets in between us.” he mumbled on your shoulder. You can feel that something is weighing on him.

“And you did not. Not yet anyway.” you pulled away and kissed his cheek, “Now go shower and we can have dinner,” he nodded and made his way to the bathroom.

Antonio was much calmer after his shower, much more after he filled his stomach with food, “This is soooo good, almost as good as mine.” he smiled. Usually you’d throw a napkin or anything within proximity at him but knowing he had a rough day you just chuckled, “If that’s your way to say ‘thank you my beautiful girlfriend, food is delicious’ I say you’re welcome,” you smiled.

“Of course I meant thank you, ‘almost as good’ is the highest of compliment,” said Antonio while finishing his plate. His expression changed to a tired face as he let out a sigh, “You don’t know how much I need this after today,”

“What happened? Ruzek picked a fight with you again?” You asked.

“Hmm.. yeah, he was on my list of problems today. But…” He trailed off and left his word hanging.

“But what? I’m sorry, it must have been a very hard day.” you looked deeply into him.

“Yeah, I don’t know if this is right… but I’m thinking to quit Intelligence.” he was hesitant at the beginning however his raspy voice was loud and clear when he mentioned about quitting.

You’re at loss for words, trying to control your expression. You didn’t even know whether to stop him from doing it or to support his thinking.

“I…are you, are you sure?” You stuttered.

Antonio sighed even longer this time, “That’s the thing, I’m not sure.” He grabbed another beer from the fridge and took a seat on the couch after clearing up the table.

You’re still sitting at the dining table, frozen, running different words to say to him.

“Babe?” He glanced at you.

You snapped back to reality and made your way to the couch, sitting next to him. “I’m sorry. I’m at loss for words. Don’t know what to say.” you said honestly, “I thought you love working at Intelligence,” you gazed softly at him.

“Yeah, I do. I like working the case. Our cases are always the toughest one, we put away the evil of evil and make the city safer. That’s what I love about being part of the team.” Antonio explained, you sensed a but coming.

“But…you know how Voight and the unit works. It’s not always conventional,” he continued.

“Yes, but you already know that.” you replied and he nodded at your sentence, “Most of the time it worked to our benefit. But lately, every one is trying to be like Voight, you know? Using any means necessary to solve a case. Maybe, except your brother. But Jay’s also has his way of letting things happen. And I can’t. I can’t do it. Not anymore.” he shook his head.

Antonio went on explaining how the last few years went down for him and the team. How they dealt with Al’s murderer - how Ruzek blamed him over not standing up for Voight though it wasn’t the case, how Voight handled Lopez, how Burgess let Q brought a gun to a sting and ended up killing the target, how Upton took care of Vanessa’s mess by planting evidence, the list goes on. And Antonio always got caught in the middle not wanting to condone their actions though not condemning either. But because of that, he was seen as the enemy of the team.

Beyond from short stories that Jay and Antonio shared with you, you didn’t actually know about how the Intelligence team works. As Jay’s sister and Antonio’s girlfriend you have good relationships with the team outside of work. You’ve known them to be good people and solid cops. But getting all of this new information, you can only feel for your boyfriend. You know that Antonio is the boy scout cop who does everything by the book. So these questionable methods that the team uses really challenge his ethics.

“I don’t care how Voight runs his shop. He brought me in to the team knowing already how I handle cases, and we always know how to work with each other despite our differences. But the rest of the team? I’m not sure anymore. These young folks think that Voight’s way is the only way forward. That doesn’t sit right by me.” he complained.

After Jules death, Lindsay’s departure, and Al’s gone, you suspected that Antonio’s feelings towards the team has changed. Team dynamic and roles have shifted and you’re not sure where Antonio sees himself within the team, and how the team positions Antonio.

Your suspicion only grew stronger after he told you what happened today.

A patrol officer got killed under Intelligence assignment to do a search at a suspected drug dealer’s home. But it was the wrong house, the officer came in hot and drew his gun already when coming inside. Much to everyone’s surprise, they only found a couple who are eating their lunch. Things got real bad, real quick when the husband - an ex-marine - panicked seeing a gun pointed at his direction and pulled his gun from under the table. In a matter of seconds, multiple shots were fired. The first officer died at the scene, the ex-marine is clinging to life at Med, the wife and the officer’s partner got several GSWs albeit not lethal.

The problem? They didn’t have a search warrant. It was an intel from a CI, a real bad one. Ruzek rushed it because a suspected drug dealer has been threatening Michele Sovana, Al’s only remaining daughter. With Ruzek now being questioned by Internal Affairs, the team turned to Antonio to pull in favor from ASA Peter Stone to issue a back dated search warrant to get Ruzek out of trouble.

“I think Jay’s against this. A fellow soldier got shot over a bad police misconduct? But he didn’t say a word.” Antonio’s eyes were filled with concerns, “The thing is, not only the warrant didn’t come through, but an officer shouldn’t draw their gun to a civilian unless necessary.” he sighed and remembered his almost altercation with Ruzek earlier today.

“They thought they’re walking to a lion’s den for fuck’s sake!” Ruzek yelled at him, “Well they weren’t, were they? Now you got two civilians injured; one of them served to protect the country!” Antonio yelled back.

“You always do this, man. A brother is killed and you’re worried about some political correctness? He worked patrol for 10 years, sacrificed HIS LIFE and one simple mistake you wanted to strip from his honor?”

“YES! Because that’s what we do! We sacrifice our lives as cops! Not only him. And because we’re the police we should be held to a standard. All the fucking time. You think you can knock on someone’s door and starts shooting?!” Antonio was boiling, in fact he was so close to hit Ruzek, but Voight broke them off and told people to go home and pick it up tomorrow.

“So, what are you going to do?” you asked.

“I figured I’d do what they say one last time and maybe…hand in my transfer letter the next day.” He replied.

“Wanna transfer to my unit?” you asked cheekily.

He laughed, “Only if I got to boss you around,” as he snuggled to you.

“Not gonna happen!” you threw a light punch.

“I honestly don’t know, you think transferring out is a bad move?” he asked.

“Well, I think working for Voight in the first place was a bad move. Same thing I said to Jay,” you scoffed, “But who knew you guys could go this far and rose to be a unit with the highest solving rate in the department. Whether or not you enjoy it, that’s for you to say.” you smiled this time.

“Hmm…” he hugged you closer and placed his head on top of yours.

“But whatever you decide, I’m behind you. One thing I know is that you’re a damn good cop don’t matter in which unit you work at,” you continued with a proud girlfriend tone.

“Thanks for always having my back. I love you,” He cupped your face and kissed you long and deep, “I love you too,” you replied as you pulled away. He leaned in closer for another kiss, more heated this time. His touch was more intense and you let out a soft moan. His hands traveled inside your shirt as he nipped at your neck. You both were all cozy until his phone rang. You both stopped and looked at the caller ID, “Your brother’s timing is impeccable. You sure he didn’t put a nanny cam around here?” he raised his eyebrows.

“Ugh. You have to answer him?” you asked.

“Actually I do. So tomorrow I don’t have to explain myself why I missed his calls. I’ll be quick,” Antonio replied and got up to answer the phone. He stepped outside to your balcony while you turn on the TV.

After three minutes or so, he stepped back in with a much brighter face. “Why are you so happy?” you asked. Whatever it was that Jay said on the phone has put Antonio at ease.

“I know I’m sure about one thing. That I always can count on a Halstead.” he smiled, pulled you in and continued where he left off.

#antonio dawson #chicago pd #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd fanfiction #antonio dawson x reader #antonio dawson imagine

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nayialovecat · 3 years ago

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Centaurworld / Świat Centaurów

I encourage everyone to watch Centaurworld, because this 10 episodes at the moment show is just amazing. Virtually no flaws, or at least I don't see any. I managed to persuade a few people and they agreed that this show is great, I also see a growing interest on tumblr, which makes me happy - 'cause it means that for the first time I'm one of the first in the fandom, which may turn out to be one of the best fandoms in which I was (sorry, BATIM X'D). But I also heard opinions that this cartoon is "cute and silly" or that it is a "brainwasher" and I have to admit that I was a bit sick of this opinion. 'Cause, no, this animation is not just another silly, colorful fairy tale where you can laugh, listen to songs and forget about. You may disagree with what I'm about to say, but I'd like to share how I view Centaurworld. Sorry for spoilers in advance, I will try to write in such a way as not to spoil the watching pleasure, but some things have to be said and I will not avoid spoilers. Yes, the animation is colourful, it even has rainbows, stars and hearts at almost every step. In a small and little-spoiler shortcut: the animation presents the story of a fighting mare, which suddenly from a world engulfed in war, finds herself in a joyfully colorful and charming world inhabited by sometimes absurdly built and functioning centaurs (coraltur XD). And if it were a story based simply on the fact that a heroine, used to toil and suffering, has to learn to live in completely different conditions, it would actually be a silly cheerful cartoon. But it's not like that. First of all, Centaurworld has a compact, continuous story - it is a road story, during which the heroes experience various adventures, sometimes scary, sometimes funny, and have a chance to evolve and "become best versions of themselves" (we'll come back to that later). Among the ten episodes of the first season, there is one, literally one filler - in my opinion, it's a filler, 'cause if it was cut out of the plot, it would not be bad at all - but even it provides some important information and deepens the lore of the world (we are talking about the episode with the beartaur). So we have a heroine who is reluctant to a new place, a joyful herd of different individuals who helps her on her journey - and a journey through a magical, colorful world. Sounds like a lot of fun. But practically every episode has a deeper bottom, it shows its second face if we take a closer look at it. Already in the first episode, right after the song about how great Centaurworld is, it is suggested that living under a magic dome is a form of fear, fear of reality and real life with all its challenges and dangers. Today my husband drew my attention to one fragment of the song sung by Horse - namely during the Be Best Competition in the city of cattaurs, when Horse performs a wonderful song "Who is she", at one point he stumbles and then stands up and says “this isn't working, this isn't working, no, no". Of course, she might mean that she was pretending to be someone she wasn't - at the contest (she didn't act like the fighter she is). But look attention that in the same episode the cattaurs in the song "We do this every day" sing "But the Great War brought death and cats-tastrohphe - so we had to find a way to heal, cover up the pain, with pageantry and zeal". In other words, they organize the same competition every day to forget about suffering, to drown out their own despair. Horse takes part in the competition, she's suffering after all - but he finds it doesn't work. What if she's talking at this point not about elegant haircuts and wearing high heels, but about the fact that the forgotting method doesn't work? In another episode, we have a depopulated town with only one resident left - the rest of them voluntarily let themselves be devoured so as not to have to suffer. Isn't it scary that in this joyful and magical land of rainbows and love, there are so many people who prefer to die than continue living? Personally, I was very shocked by how many Centaurworld heroes suffer - we

have different faces of depression, all kinds of traumas (some of which have not yet been explained) and even seemingly joyful characters are not like that when we get to know them better, when we delve into their past. The animation is pleasant and joyful, I can recommend it even to small children, with a pure heart - they will be delighted. But adults... adults will catch the other bottom, see the importance of the words spoken by the heroes - practically each of the Shamans tells the main character something that causes shivers (and it's not just the theme of Nowhere King, which in itself is terrifying and at the same time a very tragic figure). Starting with Waterbaby, whose song is a masterpiece when it comes to hidden meaning. I regret that sometimes the Polish translation spoils the double overtone of some phrases - but I assume that it is a matter of not catching them and not knowing the assumptions of the creator of the series by translators. Centaurworld is an exhilarating rainbow animation. But at the same time it is a deep story about a journey, about depression, about suffering, about not accepting yourself and trying to accept yourself as you are. In seemingly silly scenes (like the prison song "Baby's first spell") there are messages that an attentive viewer can easily translate into our reality (eg "Everyone should be proud of their magical bodies!"). Animation offers not only empty entertainment, not only catchy songs and a moment of relaxation in front of the TV - it forces you to reflect. This compels you to notice that locking yourself in a trouble-free bubble is not the solution. It shows that you cannot avoid traumas, run away from the past - but you have to face them. But at the same time... at the same time, that it's not a shame to cry (I love the song "Frustration tears" - and after it, the behavior of the characters is also quite puzzling,they are not surprising that someone may be desperate - they even think it is the norm... puzzling, right?), it's not a shame to admit defeat or ask someone for help. The main character goes through an amazing path, undergoes a certain... transformation (and I'm not talking about the obvious one now), but not only her. I'm curious how many people noticed that a Glendale who has panic attacks almost every now and then in the first episode - by the end they are practically gone? Can anyone see how different Wammawink's behavior is when she wants to go through a rift - from behavior just after leaving the dome? She sings the same words, the same text "think about fragile things" - but how different is its meaning, its overtone. The series is not shallow. It is not just a story. It has a message, even a few messages. It shows how cruel the war is and how deep its stigma is, even long after it ended. It shows how terrifying depression can be and what it entails. That you shouldn't judge others by their appearances. That we shouldn't be ashamed of who we are or run away from the changes that are taking place in us. It teaches you to accept and love yourself - and many people now forget about that. But not only that. I think attentive viewers will notice many, many more of these little details, hidden flavors, little messages - or quite obvious morals than what I wrote here. Watch Centaurworld. This is, in my opinion, the best thing that has happened in a animation recent time.

(polish version below)

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PL version:

Namawiam wszystkich do oglądania Świata Centaurów, bo ta licząca sobie 10 odcinków na ten moment animacja jest po prostu rewelacyjna. Praktycznie bez wad, a przynajmniej ja żadnych nie dostrzegam.

Kilka osób udało mi się namówić i przyznały mi rację, że jest świetna, dostrzegam też rosnące zainteresowanie na tumblrze, co mnie cieszy - bo oznacza, że pierwszy raz jestem jedną z pierwszych w fandomie, który może się okazać jednym z najlepszych fandomów, w jakich byłam (sorry, BATIM X'D).

Ale usłyszałam też opinie, że ta kreskówka jest "urocza i głupiutka" albo, że jest "odmóżdżaczem" i muszę przyznać, że trochę mnie taka opinia ubodła. Bo, nie, ta animacja nie jest wcale kolejną głupawą, kolorową bajeczką, przy której można się pośmiać, posłuchać piosenek i zapomnieć. Możecie się nie zgodzić z tym, co zaraz powiem, ale chciałabym opowiedzieć, jak ja widzę Świat Centaurów.

Z góry przepraszam na spoilery, będę starała się pisać w taki sposób, aby nie popsuć przyjemności z oglądania, ale pewne rzeczy muszą być powiedziane i spoilerów nie uniknę.

Owszem, animacja jest kolorowa, wręcz ma tęcze, gwiazdki i serduszka na niemal każdym kroku. W małym i mało-spoilerowym skrócie: animacja przedstawia historię bojowej klaczy, która nagle ze świata ogarniętego wojną, trafia do radośnie kolorowego i przeuroczego świata zamieszkanego przez niekiedy absurdalnie zbudowane i funkcjonujące centaury (koralowiec XD). I gdyby była to historia opierająca się po prostu na tym, że bohaterka przyzwyczajona do znoju i cierpienia musi nauczyć się żyć w zupełnie innych warunkach, to faktycznie byłaby głupawa wesoła kreskówka. Ale tak nie jest. Przede wszystkim Świat Centaurów ma zwartą, ciągłą fabułę - jest opowieścią drogi, podczas której bohaterowie przeżywają różne przygody, niekiedy straszne, niekiedy zabawne, a także mają szansę ewoluować i "stać się lepszymi wersjami siebie" (do tego jeszcze wrócimy). Wśród dziesięciu odcinków pierwszego sezonu znalazł się jeden, dosłownie jeden filler - w mojej opinii jest to filler, bo gdyby go wyciąć z fabuły, ta by wcale nie ucierpiała - ale nawet on przekazuje pewne istotne informacje i pogłębia lore świata (mówimy o odcinku z niedźwiedziotaurem).

Mamy więc niechętną nowemu miejscu bohaterkę, radosne stadko różnych indywiduów, które jej w podróży pomaga - no i podróż przez magiczny, kolorowy świat. Brzmi jak świetna zabawa. Ale praktycznie każdy odcinek ma głębsze dno, ukazuje swoje drugie oblicze, jeśli mu się bliżej przyjrzymy. Już w pierwszym odcinku, zaraz po piosence o tym, jak wspaniały jest Świat Centaurów, pada sugestia, że życie pod magiczną kopułą jest formą strachu, lęku przed rzeczywistością i prawdziwym życiem razem z jego wszystkimi wyzwaniami i niebezpieczeństwami.

Mój mąż dziś zwrócił mi uwagę na jeden fragment piosenki śpiewanej przez Koń - mianowicie podczas Konkursu na Lepszą Wersję Siebie w mieście kotaurów, kiedy Koń wykonuje wspaniałą piosenkę "Who is she", w pewnym momencie potyka się, po czym wstając stwierdza "to się nie sprawdza, to nie to” („this isn’t working, no, no”). Oczywiście może jej chodzić o fakt, że podczas konkursu udawała osobę, którą nie jest (nie zachowywała się jak wojowniczka, którą jest). Lecz biorąc pod uwagę, że w tym samym odcinku kotaury w piosence „We do this every day” śpiewają „wojna i śmierć odmieniły nas, trzeba było sposób znaleźć, by zamaskować jakoś ból, przypudrować łzy” („But the Great War brought death and cats-tastrohphe - so we had to find a way to heal, cover up the pain, with pageantry and zeal”). Innymi słowy, urządzają dzień w dzień ten sam konkurs, aby zapomnieć o cierpieniu, aby zagłuszyć własną rozpacz. Koń poddaje się zasadom miasta, bierze udział w konkursie, sama również przecież cierpiąc – ale stwierdza, że to nie działa. Co, jeśli mówi w tym momencie nie o eleganckim uczesaniu i chodzeniu w butach na obcasie, ale o fakcie, że metoda zagłuszania się nie sprawdza?

W innym znów epizodzie mamy wyludnione miasteczko, w którym ostał się jeden mieszkaniec – cała reszta bowiem dobrowolnie dała się pożreć, aby wreszcie nie musieć cierpieć. Czy to nie jest przerażające, że w tej radosnej i magicznej krainie tęcz i miłości, jest aż tyle osób wolących umrzeć niż dalej żyć? Mną osobiście bardzo wstrząsnęło, jak wielu bohaterów Świata Centaurów cierpi – mamy tam pokazane różne oblicza depresji, wszelkiego rodzaju traumy (z których część nie została jeszcze wyjaśniona) i nawet pozornie radosne postacie wcale takie nie są, gdy bliżej je poznajemy, gdy zagłębiamy się w ich przeszłość. Animacja jest przyjemna i radosna, z czystym sercem mogę ją polecić nawet małym dzieciom – będą zachwycone. Ale dorośli… dorośli wyłapią to drugie dno, dostrzegą, jak wielką wagę mają słowa wypowiadane przez bohaterów – praktycznie każdy z Szamanów mówi głównej bohaterce coś, co powoduje dreszcze (i nie chodzi tylko o wątek Króla Nicości, który sam w sobie jest przerażającą i zarazem bardzo tragiczną postacią). Poczynając od Wodnej Buby, której piosenka jest majstersztykiem, jeśli chodzi o ukryte znaczenie. Boleję, że miejscami polskie tłumaczenie psuje podwójny wydźwięk niektórych zwrotów – ale zakładam, że to kwestia nie wyłapania ich i nieznajomości założeń twórczyni serialu.

Świat Centaurów jest radosną tęczową animacją. Ale jednocześnie jest głęboką opowieścią o podróży, o depresji, o cierpieniu, o braku akceptacji samego siebie i próbie zaakceptowania się takim, jakim się jest. W pozornie głupawych scenach (jak więzienna piosenka „Baby’s first spell”) mają miejsce przesłania, które uważny widz łatwo przełoży na naszą rzeczywistość (np. „należy być dumnym ze swojego czarodziejskiego ciała” – „Everyone should be proud of their magical bodies!”). Animacja oferuje nie tylko pustą rozrywkę, nie tylko wpadające w ucho piosenki i chwilę relaksu przed telewizorem – zmusza do refleksji. Zmusza to zauważenia, że zamknięcie się w pozbawionej kłopotów bańce nie jest rozwiązaniem. Pokazuje, że nie można unikać traum, uciekać od przeszłości – ale trzeba im stawić czoła. Ale jednocześnie… jednocześnie, że nie jest wstydem płakać (uwielbiam piosenkę „Frustration tears” – i po niej również dosyć zastanawiające jest zachowanie bohaterów, dla których nie jest zaskoczeniem, że ktoś może być zrozpaczony – wręcz wydaje im się to normą… zastanawiające, nieprawdaż?), nie jest wstydem przyznać się do porażki albo poprosić kogoś o pomoc. Główna bohaterka przechodzi niesamowitą drogę, przechodzi pewną… przemianę (i nie mówię teraz o tej oczywistej), ale nie tylko ona. Jestem ciekawa, ile osób zwróciło uwagę na to, że taka Glendale, która w pierwszym odcinku ma napady paniki praktycznie co chwila – pod koniec praktycznie już ich nie ma? Czy ktoś dostrzega, jak odmienne jest zachowanie Wammawink, kiedy chce przejść przez ryft – w stosunku do zachowania, tuż po opuszczeniu kopuły? Śpiewa te same słowa, ten sam tekst „tak delikatni są” („think about fragile things”) – ale jakże inne jest jego znaczenie, jego wydźwięk.

Serial nie jest płytki. Nie jest jedynie opowiastką. Ma przesłanie, a nawet kilka przesłań. Ukazuje, jak okrutna jest wojna i jak głębokie jest jej piętno, nawet długi czas po jej zakończeniu. Pokazuje, jak przerażająca potrafi być depresja i to, co się z nią wiąże. Że nie należy oceniać innych po pozorach. Że nie należy wstydzić się tego, kim się jest, ani uciekać przed zmianami, jakie w nas zachodzą. Uczy akceptacji i miłości do samego siebie – a o tym wiele osób obecnie zapomina. Ale nie tylko to. Sądzę, że uważni widzowie dostrzegą jeszcze wiele, wiele więcej takich drobnych elementów, ukrytych smaczków, drobnych przesłań – lub całkiem oczywistych morałów, niż to, co ja tutaj napisałam.

Oglądajcie Świat Centaurów. To najlepsza moim zdaniem rzecz, jaka przydarzyła się w animacji z ostatnim czasie.

#centaurworld #Świat Centaurów #Nayia Lovecat recommends #spoilers

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writerbyaccident · 5 years ago

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Rags to Riches (Yandere Ra’s al GhulxReader)

Request: Hey! May I request a yandere Ra’s al Ghul with a female reader who he kidnaps?

Yawning to yourself, you trudged up to your apartment building under the dark and starless sky. The sounds of the city echoed around you, from screeching tires to distant sirens. They were sounds that many others found annoying, including you at times, but after such a long yet satisfying day, you found them to be soothing reminders that you would soon be curled up in bed. It had been a busy day for you, going from class to class and then working diligently in the library, but you didn’t mind. You loved your classes, and while there were certainly days when you felt about ready to drop from exhaustion and stress, this wasn’t one of them.

As you drew closer to your building though, passing under the window of your third-floor apartment, your gentle contentment began to fray. It was being worn away by the uneasy thudding of your heart and the restless raising of the hairs on the back of your neck. Someone, somewhere, your instincts were telling you, was gazing at you with a dedication that scraped you raw. Burrowing yourself deeper into your coat, you tried to hide from whosever stare was digging into you with frightful devotion, but to no avail. You could still feel their gaze pressing down on you so much that your legs almost gave out under the weight.

This was not the first time that the sensation of being watched had plagued you. No, it had practically become a routine occurrence at this point. The first few times that you had felt this way, you had been inconsolable, looking over your shoulder every five seconds and getting ready to call the police. But each time the sensation had passed without incident, leaving you feeling foolish and paranoid. And so tonight you forced yourself to trudge through your fear, until you eventually reached your apartment door.

Key in hand, you brought it to the lock and—

You froze. Holding your breath, you strained your ears, and from the other side of your door you swore that you heard the faintest creak. Heart in your throat, you kneeled down slowly, trying to keep yourself from making any noise, and pressed your eye up against the keyhole. For a moment, all you could see was darkness until there was a sudden flash of green. Before you could even try to move away though, your door was opened and you were pulled inside.

Stumbling to your feet as an unknown hand hauled you upward, you tried to hold onto the door, but the stranger’s grip was too strong. Despite your struggling, you were soon forced into a chair, a dozen more hands appearing to help tie you down with sturdy rope. Needing to make sense of what was happening to you, you scrutinized the figures as well as you could in your darkened apartment, only to realize that they were covered in black, with only their eyes visible. They held no weapons as far as you could tell, but considering how easily they had trapped you, that hardly mattered.

Trembling, you lifted your gaze to their apparent leader, the one who had first taken hold of you, and nearly gasped. The man before you stood tall and proud, his emerald and golden robes shining even in the lack of light. He was not young, as shown by the experience that sharpened his handsome face, but he did not seem old either, not with the strength that his frame clearly possessed. But what really struck you about the stranger were his eyes.

A fierce green, his eyes practically glowed as they gazed down at you, and in them you could see centuries of wisdom and horrors—but most of all, power—within their depths. His stare was one that caused you to quiver from its intensity, a feeling that you realized was not unfamiliar.

“Who are you?” you demanded to know, even as your voice shook. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“I have been called many things, dear one, but my name is Ra’s al Ghul,” the man answered, a slight smile appearing on his face now that you had spoken.

“What do you want with me?”

“I have already answered one of your questions,” Ra’s chuckled with a clear fondness that frightened you more than anything else that night had. “If you want me to answer another, you first must answer one of my own.”

Deciding that answering a question was a meager price to pay to find out why you had been attacked in your own home, you nodded, and the stranger’s eyes gleamed in hungry satisfaction.

“Good,” he said, moving closer to you. “My question is this: aren’t you tired?”

“T—tired?” you repeated in confusion. And your confusion only grew when the man who called himself Ra’s al Ghul suddenly knelt before you, taking your hand in his.

“Yes, dear one, tired. I have seen how diligently and how dedicatedly you work, but it is never enough for this world. Everyone has pushed you and pushed you—and it seems to me that they have no intention of stopping. The world is wearing you down.”

“That’s not true!” you protested. “And anyway, it doesn’t have anything to do with you!” At that proclamation, Ra’s simply smiled with condescending affection, as if he were talking to a child who had failed to notice the obvious.

“Of course it does,” he told you patiently. “You and everything about you—from your happiness to your health—is my business.”

“Well then,” you snarled, “you’ll be glad to know that I am perfectly happy.”

“You ought not lie to me, dear one. You will not enjoy the consequences. But you are confused, so I will forgive you this once. You are unhappy, even if you do not realize it. Leaving so early, coming back so late, huddling up in this decrepit apartment, you deserve so much better than this. Such a precious creature shouldn’t be constantly hounded by a million different tasks and demands, always crushed beneath so much pressure.”

“I—”

“You deserve so much better than what the world has given you, deserve to be given everything the world has to offer, everything it has been refusing you,” Ra’s explained passionately, stroking your cheek softly. “And I am glad to give it all to you.”

With that, Ra’s gave an almost imperceptible nod to his followers, smiling triumphantly as one of them pressed a soaked rag against your face. Tossing and turning, you tried to jerk out of their grip, but all too soon you found yourself breathing in the chemicals. Once you had fallen unconscious, Ra’s stood back up with the satisfaction of a hunter who had just caught his most desired prey. Now, as far as Ra’s was concerned, your life could truly begin. No longer would you have to toil and struggle only to be given just barely enough to get by. Now he could finally care for you the way that you deserved, with only the finest and most beautiful things, worthy only of the finest and most beautiful creature.

Yes, you might be confused now, but eventually you would grow to realize that Ra’s had been right to take you away from the world that did not recognize your value. Eventually you would love him in return, happy to take your place as the wife of the Demon’s Head.

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cuddlepilefics · 4 years ago

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Whumptober Day 26 – Faint

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie: Jeongin

Caregiver: Stray Kids

Jeongin’s POV.:

When I woke up this morning and glanced at my alarmclock, my heart stopped beating for a few seconds. I had slept in and was really late for my vocal lessons. It was always difficult when we had individual schedules because there was no one who’d make sure everybody is up on time. Jumping out of bed I threw on the first clothes that got into my hands, running a hand through my hair to smooth it down and grabbing a piece of gum instead of brushing my teeth. I left in a hurry, skipping breakfast in favor of meeting my vocal teacher on time. He was a very nice guy, as long as you didn’t make him wait. I usually preferred to be a little early but today I was satisfied when I ran into the studio right on time. From that point on it seemed like even though I didn’t have a great start into this day, it would go smoothly now. After vocal lessons I’d be meeting the rest of my group and the remaining day would consist of dance practice, so I planned to grab a bite to eat in between as kind of a late breakfast early lunch. Practicing a new song, my teacher asked me to sing it once more towards the end of the lesson even if it meant for me to stay a few minutes longer. Of course, I didn’t complain and received lots of praises for the progress I had made. Sadly, I was late now once again and not wanting to disappoint my hyungs, I sprinted straight down to the practice room. Bursting through the door panting, Hyunjin patted my back laughing: “Relax, you’re still on time.” I was slowly catching my breath and we started stretching. The choreography we wanted to work on today was a complicated on. Not only were the different moves challenging to coordinate, but it was also very fast. After practicing for only fifteen minutes Han lay on the ground complaining about his muscles burning only to be mocked by Hyunjin which ended in both of them play fighting each other on the floor. Chan wasn’t really having it with them today. “Guys, we haven’t even really started yet. I want you to take our practice sessions serious. We’ll get nowhere if you’re only fooling around the entire time. Your behavior is especially unfair on the rest of the members who are willing to work hard to achieve our dream”, Chan had stepped into full strict-leader-mode and the two fighting members immediately got up from the ground and onto their positions in our starting formation. Nobody, I tell you nobody wants to get a talking to from Chan when he is disappointed and I could fully understand why Jisung looked slightly panicked. He was just his usual goofy self and had no intention on holding our group back. As Minho went to start the music again, the mood in the practice room had changed. Everyone was serious now, trying their hardest to get the moves down mistake-free. There was no joking anymore between the rounds, if that was due to fear of Chan or simply because no one really had a breath to waste on speaking, I didn’t know. An hour into practice we had our first break wordlessly sipping on our bottles while trying to catch our breaths. Seungmin was lying in the center of the room spread out like a starfish whining quietly as Chan announced the end of the break. I walked over laughing and offered him a hand, grinning widely as he took it and let me pull him back onto his feet. He returned my smile before we both got into position.

We continued dancing but the music was stopped frequently to fix mistakes. During on of these times when Minho demonstrated the segment we were working on again, I suddenly felt dizzy. Hyunjin was standing closest to me and I wrapped my arms around him. He was the cuddliest member and it was easy to disguise me moment of weakness as a hug, holding on to him till the dark spots had faded. Hyunjin didn’t question me and instead hugged me back till I let go and returned to me spot, painfully aware of the warning look Chan shot my way. Chan-hyung usually was a bit more lax when it came to me, seeing as I was the maknae, but still he wanted me to work hard. I wasn’t going to disappoint him and kept giving it my all, throwing all my energy in every move I made. It paid off as I got many praises from my hyungs, especially from Minho and Hyunjin. That made me really proud and smiled at them brightly. I kept up my happy exterior but inside it slowly got harder to focus. As time passed I slowly started messing up, the moves I had pulled off precisely earlier had turned more sluggish, if I even managed to pull them off at all. It felt like my brain was always one step behind and apparently so was my dancing. “Alright, take five!”, Chan announced, resulting in my members either dropping to the ground groaning or bending over with their hands on their knees panting. “Jeongin-ah, you did so well earlier, don’t slack-off now” – “Yes, Chan-hyung, I’ll do better next time.”, I replied out of breath. My stomach had started to hurt a bit but I saw no reason to bring it up in front of my hyungs, knowing it was just hunger pain and would go away as soon as I had a meal later. My hyungs would only worry unnecessarily, they always worried about me. I mean, it’s kind of cute having some overprotective older brothers and I always felt loved around them. On the other hand though, I was an adult like them and I wanted to be their equal, not always be looked down on. I could handle myself, or so I thought.

Our break was over almost as soon as it started. Unsurprisingly to me, I didn’t do better the next time. The few sips of water I had taken changed nothing about the floaty feeling that had settled in my brain. I felt like I was in a dream, my mind and body not really connected. That showed in my dancing, as my body struggled to follow the instructions given by my brain. Seungmin walked over to me: “Hey, are you ok, Innie? You had it all down perfectly fine earlier, why are you struggling now?” Ugh, bad choice of words. I hated to have them think or know I was struggling. Putting on a smile I replied: “I’m fine, hyung. Just getting a little tired but I’ll try harder next time.” – “Don’t worry, Innie. Most of us are, we’ll call it a day soon. All of you, give it your all for maybe thirty more minutes, then we’ll go home, yeah? Just thirty more minutes”, Chan encouraged after noticing the frown that had spread amongst the group at my comment. I nodded looking at the ground, more in my own world than really present in the practice room. Seungmin patted my shoulder before walking back to his position and I stood up a bit straighter. Thirty minutes, I can get through this. My stomach grumbled but was luckily drowned out by the music that had started up again. Those thirty minutes felt like an eternity but finally Chan clapped his hands: “Alright guys, we’re done. Let’s pack up.” While most of my hyungs dropped to the ground groaning, I walked over to my bag, afraid I wouldn’t be able to get back up if I lay down too. Picking up my water I chugged the rest of the bottle down before shoving it into my bag. I had given it my all but I kept messing up till the very end and I knew Chan was slightly disappointed in me. I checked the time and to my surprise it was already seven in the evening. Not being able to resist anymore and not caring about how I’d get up later, I sat down next to my bag leaning back against the wall. Closing my eyes, I listened to the whines as the other members pushed off of the ground to pack up their bags too. “No sleeping yet, Innie!”, Hyunjin laughed shaking me. Giving him a tired smile, I pushed myself up and swung my bag over my shoulder. That might have been a little fast… As soon as I was upright, my vision turned black and I drew a shaky breath as I felt myself fall sideways.

Hyunjin’s POV.:

God, as much as I love dancing, today was cruel. I dabbed my face dry before stuffing my towel into my bag and packing everything up. Our maknae seemed to be asleep, having already packed up. I felt sorry for him, he did really well when we started but towards the end he seemed to have completely run out of energy. I walk over and shake his arm lightly. He smiled at me cutely before getting up but then my heart almost stopped. His smile was gone suddenly, face whiter than the wall behind me as his eyes closed and he crumpled down. I managed to grab him just in time before he could hit the ground. The exhaustion I had felt just a moment prior vanished as adrenalin seared through my veins. “Fuck, Innie, hey. Look at me!”, I yell, shaking his arm roughly. He didn’t even move. Chan hurried over and knelt down next to me. Placing one hand on my shoulder to calm me down, he used the other to gently pat our maknae’s cheek: “Innie, you hear me?” Still no reaction. Realizing what was going on, Minho ran over, lifting Innie’s legs up a bit while the others were frozen in shock. With tears running down my cheeks I give my dongsaeng another shake, hearing Han sob behind me. Groaning, our youngest squeezed his eyes shut before blinking slowly. “Hey, you back with us?”, Chan asked, leaning over Innie trying to catch his attention. The younger hummed, pressing his hands to his head mumbling incoherently. “Sorry, what was that?”, Chan leaned closer. “’m dizzy, head hurts”, Innie whispered, breaking my heart. Minho placed his legs down gently, allowing him to sit up as soon as he was ready to. Wiping my tears on my sleeve, I pick his hand up, rubbing comforting circles on it with my thumb. Han came carrying a water bottle and offered Innie some, but although he sat up slowly the younger shook his head and pushed the bottle away, wrapping an arm around his stomach. That’s when Chan’s interrogation started: “Are you ok now?” a nod. “Do you know why that happened?” a shrug, “You drank enough water?” another nod. “Ate enough?” hesitation. “I didn’t really eat yet”, our maknae mumbled, trying to hide his face with his hands. I was shocked, my baby had been starving all day? No wonder he didn’t have anymore energy. I scoot closer, wrapping him up in a hug: “Innie, why would you do that? You’re so skinny, you need to eat. Where do you think you’ll get the energy to dance from? Hm?” – “H-hyung, I’m sorry. There was no time.”, he sounded genuinely ashamed now. “There is always time for food”, Chan argued, resulting in Innie’s lip starting to shake a bit. “I slept in a-and barely arrived to m-my vocal l-lesson on time a-and then the l-lesson took l-longer and I couldn’t e-eat because I-I sprinted straight h-here.” I tightened my grip as the tears spilled, my dongsaeng shaking slightly in my arms. “Why didn’t you tell anyone? We would have given you a break to eat something. We had just assumed you had eaten before practice like we did”, Chan frowned, reaching out a hand to wipe the tears from Innie’s face. “I-I d-don’t know.” I looked up, seeing Seungmin crouch down next to me. “Innie, can you look at me?”, the second youngest smiled sadly while stroking his dongsaeng’s arm. Making eye contact he opened a granola-bar passing it to the youngest.

Jeongin’s POV.:

Trying to calm my breathing, I started chewing on the granola-bar handed me and thanked him with a shy smile. This was not how I had planned my day to go. My attempt to not worry my hyungs ended with me fainting, giving them quite a scare. I leaned my still spinning head back against Hyunjin-hyung’s chest. With every bite I took, I was made more aware of the starving empty feeling in my tummy and the bar was finished quickly. “Let’s go home and get you a proper meal”, Hyunjin cooed, getting up and pulling me with him. Bad idea, my legs were shaking and I clung onto his arms trying to keep my balance. Seeing me sway, Chan-hyung quickly stepped closer and scooped me up in his strong arms. “Sorry”, I mumbled, weakly leaning my head on his shoulder. “Don’t be sorry. We are sorry, it is our job as your hyungs to take care of you and we didn’t even notice our maknae was starving”, Chan replied sounding guilty. Great, now he was blaming himself, that was absolutely not my intention. “’s not your fault though, should be old enough to take care of myself. You’re a good hyung.”, I tried to reassure him.

Changbin’s and Han’s search of their bags had turned up two more protein bars that I tiredly nibbled on while Chan carried me back to the dorm. In any other circumstances I would have fought him, insisting to walk on my own but I had accepted defeat the second Hyunjin had pulled me to my feet. One of the others, supposedly Minho, must have taken my bag because I found it in my room later, but I was to out of it to really know what was going on around me. I knew that Felix was walking next to Chan because he kept talking to me: “You know, we made pancakes for breakfast this morning.” Ouch, that did spike some jealousy in me. I loved pancakes. Seeing my frown, he was quick to add: “Don’t worry, we know you love them so we set some aside. I’ll go get them as soon as we get home.” Oh my god, I’ll have pancakes, that might even save my day. Although I still feel shitty physically the expectation of getting pancakes soon was something to look forward to.

Back at the dorm Chan put me down on the sofa while everyone else went to put their things away and then wait for their turn taking a shower. Felix had gone straight to the kitchen and Chan followed soon after. I could hear them arguing: “Don’t you think he should eat something healthy first, Lixxie?”, Chan frowned at the younger who lathered my pancakes with a generous amount of Nutella. “Nah, trust me hyung, that’ll get his bloodsugar up in no time” – “Yeah, no doubt.” – “I trust Felix-hyung on this one”, I piped in from my place on the sofa earning a beaming smile from the younger Aussie. “I guess as long as he eats it’s alright”, Chan threw his hands up exasperatedly as he walked out of the kitchen missing how Felix dipped the knife into the jar of Nutella for a second time while wiggling his eyebrows at me. Boy did he know me well. He also grabbed some strawberries from the fridge, arranging them in a circle around the stack of pancakes yelling after our leader: “Hyung, I added some fruit, it’s healthy now.” I giggled, sitting up straighter as Felix walked over to me. “Thanks, hyungie!”, I beamed as he handed me the plate and I immediately dug in. My last bit of resistance was gone as I tasted the first bit of Nutella on my tongue. Yeah, the pancakes might have been slightly burned but considering who’s cooking skill this was I was quite happy with how they had turned out. I kept switching between bites of pancake and dipping strawberries into the Nutella that was covering pretty much every inch of the plate. Felix sat next to me on the sofa keeping me company while I ate. When I was about halfway through my stack of pancakes, I could feel my energy starting to return. I felt more like myself now, my mind wasn’t a step behind anymore. By the time I was done most of the other members were done showering. Han had taken Felix spot at some point, sending his younger twin to take his turn showering. When Felix came back and took a seat next to Chan the leader laughed at him: “Have you successfully given our maknae diabetes now?” Felix shocked and hurt expression had the group break into a fit of laughter. I stood up to bring my plate to the kitchen and take a shower too as I was stopped by our leader speaking up once more, significantly more serious this time: “Innie, are you feeling alright now?” When he saw me nod smiling, he deemed me emotionally ready for the scolding I probably deserved for not taking care of myself: “Good. Don’t do that again, ok? That was dangerous and irresponsible, you could have gotten seriously hurt. And I’m sure I’m speaking for everyone here when I say you almost gave us a heart-attack. It’s alright, schedules can get busy and tight-packed but if you miss the chance to eat then at least talk to us so we can see how we fit a small snack-break in. Guys, that isn’t only meant for Innie, I know quite a few of you would have acted the same way in order to make it to your schedule on time, so if someone misses their meal, please communicate this information. We will work out a solution together. I don’t want a repetition of today.” Seeing as everyone was quick to agree, I apologized once more before heading off to shower. My hyungs had their own meal as I was getting ready and when I returned to the living room in some comfy clothes, they had already set up for a movie night and we all filed up to cuddle on the sofa and the floor in front of it. I guess no matter how bad my day had started and how much worse it managed to get, my hyungs always had the power to make things times better in the end.

#sick #sickfic #skz #stray kids #fanfic #whumptober #whumptober2020 #jeongin #i.n.#fluff

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livvibee · 4 years ago

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In Public

Pairing: Starker

Rating: Explicit (E)

Notes: This fic was written for @theonlyceeceej as part of the @starkerkink Exchange 2020 Event.

Length: 4.7k~

Warnings: Exhibitionism, Daddy Kink, Anal Play, Butt Plugs, Shibari/Rope Bondage, Vibrators, Verbal Humiliation

Read here or on AO3.

The blaring alarm cut through the music blasting in the workshop, startling Peter from repairs to one of his webshooters.

“Okay Fri, message received!” Peter shouted over the sound. “You can cut it out now.”

Peter stood up from his workstation, twisting and stretching all around to relieve his tight muscles, and took a few moments to tidy things up. Across the room Tony was still deep in thought, manipulating the holographic schematic for a new suit in the air, completely unaware of his surroundings. Peter crossed the room, dodging around piles of discarded parts to reach his lover.

“Daddy…” Peter purred into Tony’s ear, before nibbling playfully at the nape of his neck.

Tony groaned and batted weakly over his shoulder. “Hang on Pete, I’m almost done.”

“Daddy…” Peter repeated, drawing out the word like a soft caress. “It’s time to get ready.”

“You go on ahead baby,” Tony replied, voice still far away. “I’ll be up in a minute.”

Peter huffed and ruffled the older man’s hair, missing how quickly Tony’s attention shifted at the playful touch. “Ugh, fine,” he sassed, “but you’d better be upstairs by the time I get out of the shower.”

Tony spun around on his stool, ready to ask his boy “exactly who he thought he was speaking to,” but Peter was already hustling out of the lab. The affronted expression quickly melted into a calculating grin as Tony considered their plans for the evening.

Peter padded out of the bathroom with a towel slung low between his hips, exposing his defined abs and the vee of his adonis belt. The young man stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of Tony, who was half undressed and planted firmly on the edge of their bed, carefully coiled ropes draped over his arm.

“Well kid,” Tony said, soaking in the startled look on Peter’s face with a sharkish grin, “I’m upstairs by the time you’re out of the shower. Any other demands you’d like to make for the evening?”

Through a supreme act of self control, Peter suppressed the “oh shit” that threatened to fall from his lips, unconsciously straightening up from his relaxed posture as he responded. “No Daddy, I don’t have any demands.

Tony hummed noncommittally. “Are you sure? Because you sounded awfully demanding down in the lab, and you know how I love to accommodate my baby’s desires.”

Peter swallowed involuntarily as he thought of all the ways his desires had been accommodated in the past, often in ways and directions he could barely admit to fantasizing about, let alone directly ask for. He managed to squeak out a quiet “I’m sure!” as he eyed the lengths of hotrod red rope and tried to analyze the flash of gold peeking out from a fold in the blankets.

“Good boy...” Tony purred, before beckoning Peter over with a crooked finger.

Peter crossed the room on suddenly unsteady legs, helplessly drawn forward by that single finger. As he reached the bed, Tony reached out and tugged at his towel, dropping the damp fabric carelessly to the floor. Peter fought the urge to hide as a wave of shyness ran over him, letting his hands fall loose at his sides as Tony preferred.

A proud smile played around the corners of Tony’s lips as he reached out and placed a hand on Peter’s hip. “I’m thinking tonight we could try something new.”

“S- something new?” Peter asked, gathering up his hard wrought communication skills, overriding the shyness gathered in his chest in favor of the growing spark of interest. “I could be up for something new Daddy.”

“Remember when we talked about wearing my rope out on date night?” Tony asked, rubbing gently at Peter’s flank. “Why not tonight?”

Peter paused to consider before responding. “Won’t you be able to see the lines under my tux?”

“There’s my analytical baby,” Tony cooed. “This stuff is thinner than what we usually use, you won’t be able to see under all the layers.”

Peter nodded brightly and smiled. “Sounds good to me Daddy.”

“I have one more plan,” Tony said with a grin stretched across his face, “and it’s one I think you’ll enjoy.”

Tony held up the gold object Peter had seen peeking out from the covers. It was a buttplug, not particularly large, oddly shaped with a bulbous head, just long enough and thick enough to make an impression. There was a wicked curve to the toy, ensuring that it would prod relentlessly at Peter’s sweet spot, above the flared base.

Peter eyed the toy with trepidation and excitement warring in his gut. “I would wear that all night?”

“Unless you needed to use your safeword and take it out, yes.”

Peter curiously reached out to touch the toy, and Tony handed it over easily. He was surprised by the weight of it, and the coolness of the metal in his palm.

“Want to see the surprise feature?” Tony asked, a wicked smile firmly etched across his expressive mouth.

Peter nodded, watching Tony fidget with his watch. Suddenly the plug started vibrating, thrumming strongly in his hand, making him tingle from fingertip to wrist. Peter was glazing over as he considered being so naughty underneath his flashy tuxedo, dancing with all the rich old spinsters with a vibrating plug stuck in his ass. He fidgeted slightly, feeling heat begin to pool in his stomach already.

“Sounds uh- sounds like a good time to me Daddy,” Peter muttered, feeling his blush creep up his chest across his cheeks and even into the tips of his ears. “Won’t- won’t I get hard?”

“Oh,” Tony cooed, “you’re definitely going to get hard. You’ll just have to be… creative. Maybe you can hide behind an autumnal flower arrangement.”

Peter squirmed at the man’s mocking tone. “Al- alright Daddy,” he said, raising his chin slightly, “Green, I can handle it.”

“Good,” Tony nodded, “now go get ready.”

Peter returned a short time later from the bathroom to find Tony standing by the bed, with the plug and lube all laid out, coiled rope waiting at the side.

Tony patted the bed gently. “Get up here, on your hands and knees.”

Peter did as he was asked, as eager to please as always. He was half hard already, and waited impatiently for Tony's touch. Peter gasped when he finally felt those calloused hands firmly grasping at his cheeks, spreading them apart and exposing his furled hole. One hand left his ass and Peter could hear the click of the lube bottle opening, then felt a warm, slippery finger gently prodding and massaging against his puckered ring. Peter laid his head on his crossed arms and tried to relax all the muscles in his body that were tense with anticipation.

“That’s it baby,” Tony purred, “let Daddy in, gonna loosen you up.”

Tony’s swirling fingertip slowly breached Peter’s tightness, making the younger man moan in delight at the first stretch of penetration. Peter sighed happily as prickles of pleasure skittered down his spine and straight to his rapidly filling dick. Tony moved his digit slowly in and out, gently prepping Peter before rapidly slipping in another finger with a wicked laugh, curling them across his prostate. Peter hissed at the accompanying burn, gritting his teeth even as he humped backwards on Tony’s fingers, trying to keep them where he was most sensitive.

“Fuck, Daddy-” Peter cried out, whimpering in displeasure as Tony pulled his fingers back out abruptly.

Tony tapped lightly at Peter’s hole. “Hush now, let Daddy take care of this.”

The frigid touch of metal replaced the familiar warmth of Tony’s hand, making Peter hiss as the bulbous tip of the plug circled his rim, barely having time to pick up the warmth of his skin before Tony pushed it slowly against Peter’s reflexively tightening hole. Peter took a deep breath again and consciously relaxed, letting Tony begin to slide the plug into him. The older man pushed the frigid metal toy in slowly, then drew it back out a fraction of an inch each time, slowly making his way to the widest point of the plug. Peter had never felt something so cold inside his warmth before, and moaned loudly with each push, humping fruitlessly into the air and feeling wrecked even though they’d barely begun the evening.

“Ah, hgn, fu- Daddy!” Peter wailed as his hole stretched around the toy’s flared tip and pulled it in greedily, snapping around the thinness before the base.

Tony swirled the toy slowly, listening to Peter’s hitched breaths, finding the point where it would prod relentlessly against Peter’s prostate for the entire night.

“There you go baby, is that your sweet spot?” Tony asked mockingly, pressing rhythmically against the base of the plug with clever fingers, jolting Peter back into moans.

“Ye- yes!” Peter gasped as the heavy toy bobbed inside him.

“Good!” Tony slapped sharply against Peter’s upturned ass. “Now, up.”

Peter’s head was spinning from the sudden change of pace as he slowly slid into a standing position by the bed, dick bobbing in the air. Tony grabbed Peter’s hand and drew him across the room to the large mirror by the closet, positioning him facing the mirror, but leaving enough room to circle Peter’s body. Circle he did, leaving Peter flushing and needy under Tony’s scrutiny.

“Hands behind your back tesoro,” Tony said as a calculating look passed over his face. “Now, what to do, what to do.” Tony stood back and placed a hand under his chin, arguing with himself under his breath before seemingly making a decision. “Stay just like you are.”

Tony stood and let the coil of rope unroll before folding it over to find the center. Peter shivered, hands clasped behind his back, feeling the caress of the soft rope across his skin as Tony draped the rope over his shoulders and let it hang to the middle of his back before tying a series of well practiced knots down the front of the rope to just above Peter’s throbbing cock. Karada, Peter’s brain supplied helpfully, the hazy memory rising of a long afternoon where Tony explained and demonstrated basic shibari on Peter’s oh-so-willing form.

Peter automatically shifted his hands to rest behind his head, keeping his arms up and out of the way for the harness Tony was tying around his body. The sibilant whisper of the rope against the floor and skin was the only sound in their bedroom, besides their quiet breathing and Peter’s whimpers as the rope slid across his skin. Tony wrapped and tucked the ropes back under themselves, looping them securely into a pattern like diamonds across Peter’s chest. He was already halfway floating, feeling the gentle pressure snaking around his ribs, tightening slightly with each adjustment of the rope.

“Doing okay there baby?” Tony asked, breaking the silence as he checked the tie with confident fingers.

Peter took a deep breath, relishing the way the rope held him securely as his chest expanded. “I’m doing great Daddy,” he replied dreamily, watching in the mirror as Tony bent down, separating the ropes to surround Peter’s still hard dick and balls, and pulling them up securely behind Peter’s back between his cheeks.

Tony pulled on the rope, grinning as Peter gasped aloud as the pressure moved the metal plug in his ass against his sweet spot. “Hmm,” he mused before snapping the fingers on his free hand. “Spread 'em,” Tony commanded, leaving Peter scrambling to widen his stance as he moved behind the boy.

Resisting the urge to twist around and see what exactly Tony was doing, Peter waited helplessly, feeling the controlled movement of rope sliding against itself, being tied into a new knot. Tony pulled up again on the ropes, this time jolting the plug even more firmly, forcing a sharp squeak out of Peter.

“What changed?!” Peter yelped through the fuzziness building in his head, shifting his weight from foot to foot but not otherwise moving from his position.

Tony laughed archly as he spoke. “Just a little knot in an opportune place.”

Peter wasn’t floating too high to resist swearing under his breath about “little knots in opportune places my ass,” and received a stinging swat across one cheek from where Tony was still bent behind him.

Tony stood up before securing the remainder of the rope in a careful knot just above the small of Peter’s back. “There!” He said, quiet satisfaction evident on his face as he tugged and ran his fingers under the rope, making sure everything was the correct tightness.

Looking back into the mirror, Peter admired the vivid red of the rope against his skin and squirmed slightly where he stood, hands slowly drifting down from behind his head, following the contours of the lines and knots secured across his body.

“How does it feel?” Tony asked. “Actually, before you answer that, try sitting down.”

Peter scurried back across the room and sat down gingerly on the edge of the bed, failing to suppress a small, high pitched moan as the knot pressed against the plug.

Tony grinned evilly at the sound. “Now,” he said, rubbing his hands together, “back to the question at hand. How does it feel?”

“It feels… perfect…” Peter breathed. He could feel the gentle pressure surrounding his core, increasing with every inhalation, surrounding him with a buzzing layer of securesafetight, and the knot was a firm reminder of the plug and the game they were playing tonight.

“Not too tight?” Tony asked, watching Peter’s headshake of denial. “Good!” Tony crowed before grabbing at the knot in the middle of Peter’s chest and pulling him up slightly for a savage kiss, swallowing the moan that ricocheted from his throat and moving Peter’s entire body back and forth. Pulling his lips back from Peter’s searching mouth, Tony whispered, “Time to get ready.”

That sensation of whiplash came crashing back to Peter, who was still dazed from the kiss and the manipulation of the ropes surrounding him. “But-”

“Shhhh,” Tony said, placing a finger against Peter’s lips. “We still have the whole night ahead of us.”

Later that evening, Peter was astoundingly grateful for Tony’s consideration of his enhanced senses as they made their way through a back entrance to the historic mansion where the auction and gala were occurring, avoiding the red carpet entrance and flashing lights of the paparazzi. With rope tight against his skin under his tux and his ass firmly plugged, he was happy to escape any added attention. The media had been sniffing like hounds around their newly announced relationship, and the clamor outside would have been immense and overwhelming.

Peter was on tenterhooks as he and Tony mingled with the other guests, keenly aware that the plug in his ass could begin to vibrate at any moment. He had never noticed before just how often Tony checked FRIDAY’s notifications on his watch, but with every upward motion of Tony’s wrist that had Peter tensed and waiting, he was beginning to get an idea.

Peter excused himself from the excruciatingly boring conversation between Tony and some senator or other, appropriating the auction paddle to fan his heated face as he headed to the bar for a refill on his club soda and lime. Peter dipped and weaved between clusters of people, his natural grace coming into play as he finally began to relax. They’d been at the event for ages already, maybe Tony would be so distracted that he would forget about the plug entirely.

Refill achieved, Peter began to make his way back to Tony from the bar. As he crossed the room, he was caught by a group of sneering Upper East Side socialites, all hoping to talk to the mysterious young man who managed to bag The Tony Stark. Peter found himself unwillingly drawn into the conversation, inexpertly dodging questions about their personal life with stammering redirections. He flinched as he felt the first vibration rumble slowly against his sweet spot, disguising his small moan as a sudden cough. Peter began to desperately look for a way out of the conversation as the plug shivered and trembled inside him. He could already feel his dick chubbing up, responding to the delicious tingles shooting through his body. Peter focused his genius brain on ignoring the sensation, and shifted slightly to hold his auction paddle in front to hide his rapidly growing hardness.

Suddenly, the plug in his ass roared to life with a great and terrible vengeance. Peter jumped, almost spilling his drink across the haughty woman in a hideous gown who was still rudely clutching his sleeve. He looked frantically around the room, finding Tony across the dancefloor, still deep in conversation, innocently toying with his watch as he spoke. Peter was outraged and turned on beyond belief; that jerk wasn’t even looking at him! Making his excuses to the entire couture cabal, he extricated himself and ducked into a nearby curtained alcove.

Peter leaned with one hand out against the wall, and took a moment to breathe. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. The vibrations were way stronger than anticipated.

Peter shifted minutely, trying to control his shivering, clutching the auction paddle in his free hand. His slightly bent position was pulling on the ropes surrounding his chest, tugging on the line wedged firmly between his cheeks, and rubbing that diabolically placed knot against the base of the plug. The toy inside him changed from a predictable low thrum to a series of intermittent bursts, shifting in length and intensity between blessed moments of reprieve. Peter stifled his whimpers, acutely aware of the sounds of civilized society just beyond the curtain.

Wait… Was that? It was! Long, short, break- N, long long long, break- O… Peter bit back an incredulous laugh as he translated the rest of the Morse code message. “No hiding.” No hiding? How was Peter supposed to get through the night?

Peter’s dick was a line of fire where it was trapped down the leg of his pants. He took a few moments to adjust, tucking his cock into the waistband of his pants and grimacing slightly at the pressure of the button right below the head of his cock. The young man took a series of deep breaths against the constant stimulation of the plug vibrating merrily away in his ass, feeling the tightness of the harness against his skin as he steeled himself to return to the crowded ballroom. Suddenly the curtain drew back slightly, and Tony swirled into the shadowed space, leaning toward him with a predatory smile and proprietary air.

“How’s it going Petey?” Tony asked, pushing Peter against the wall and insinuating a hand beneath his tuxedo jacket, trailing it across the diamonds of rope beneath his shirt. “You enjoying the evening?”

Peter softly gasped his response as Tony’s strong fingers closed around one of Peter’s pebbled nipples. “Ye- yes Daddy, I’m ha- having a great time.”

Tony responded by crowding his body against Peter, grinding his hips against Peter’s throbbing cock and whispering with menace. “Are you hiding in here, little slut? Didn’t I just tell you no hiding? Are you gonna be my brilliant boy tonight or my dumb little cucciolo? You’ve already got the harness, maybe I should have brought you on a leash?”

Peter gasped and whined, dropping the paddle entirely as his nails dug into the plaster, words trickling through his body and the image of being paraded around, bound and leashed before the who’s who of New York City fluttering through his head. “Daddy! I can’t- You can’t-”

Tony pressed his hand against Peter’s mouth and licked a lurid strip up Peter’s neck from the edge of his collar to his ear. “I see you’re going to be my little cucciolo then, whimpering where anyone could hear you. I’ll let you in on a secret baby... I’m Tony-Fucking-Stark, and I’ll do whatever the fuck I want. If I wanna bring you to a charity gala naked but for my rope and drag you around like a dumb puppy, I will. I can buy every wagging tongue in here.”

A hot dribble of pre welled out of Peter’s tip and stuck the crisp cotton of his shirt to the sensitive head of his dick as Tony ground his hips against Peter and whispered filth into his ear. The wall began to chip underneath Peter’s bracing fingers, he squirmed in the harness holding him securely under his bespoke tuxedo, panting harshly through his nose and relishing the repeated pull of ropes across his ribs. Watching him quiver with an indulgent grin, Tony unbuttoned Peter’s jacket and slithered his arm around beneath the jacket to grab at the knot at the small of Peter’s back through his shirt. Carefully and firmly he tugged up, stifling Peter’s moans with hand over mouth as the knot between his cheeks pushed against that infernal plug, rubbing it firmly against Peter’s prostate.

Peter was caught between that sensation of the plug thrumming against his sweet spot, pressing against it even harder as Tony manipulated the rope, and the grinding of Tony’s hips against Peter’s, sandwiching his throbbing, leaky cock between them. Peter was almost riding the edge already, shivering and emitting muffled whimpers and groans from the depths of his throat, feeling the waves of heat swell dangerously high in his core as the vibrations shook through him. He screwed his eyes shut as the waves began to crest, rocking his hips harder into Tony’s solid strength, hands fisted at his sides so he didn’t leave craters in the plaster.

Tony’s watch chirped quietly in the muffled alcove and the vibrations stopped, interrupting the spectacular orgasm that Peter had been seconds from reaching. As quickly as he had begun, Tony tucked Peter’s shirt in at the back and buttoned his jacket, but not before rubbing his knuckles firmly against the aching line of Peter’s cock. Peter submitted to the treatment, helpless and aflame with desire as Tony straightened Peter’s bowtie and smoothed his mussed hair.

“Alright cucciolo, it’s time for the speech and auction. We better get back to our table before we’re missed.”

Peter stared uncomprehendingly at Tony. Go? In this state? He kept staring as Tony grabbed the paddle from the floor and held Peter’s hand, peeking outside of the alcove through the gap in the curtain.

“C’mon dumb puppy, no need to talk, you just have to heel,” Tony said, ushering Peter out into the warm lights of the ballroom. Everyone was gathered at the tables at the opposite end, watching the raised stage, the only witness to Peter’s flustered blinking being the bartender polishing glasses behind the expansive mahogany surface. Peter blushed furiously as the man eyed them both and winked, mimicking a zipper closing his lips with one hand.

As Tony and Peter reached the edge of the clustered tables, the lights began to dim and a spotlight appeared, pointed at the podium on the stage, drawing the room’s attention to the speaker who was walking out, cue cards in hand. They discretely slipped into their seats at the two person table near the edge of the group, Tony pulling back Peter’s chair and plopping him securely in the seat, making Peter suppress his moan as the plug jolted inside him.

Peter tuned out the speech completely, sitting ramrod straight in his chair, trying to avoid pulling the harness in any particular direction or pressing that devious knot any harder against the plug. He was staring off into the distance, cock still trapped and pulsing, trying to school his face into some semblance of order in anticipation of the lights being turned back on soon. Peter’s head snapped over to stare at Tony as the vibrations started back on, just a whisper compared to the earlier thrum.

“Da- Tony!” Peter hissed urgently, leaning toward the older man.

Tony leaned in as well, whispering into Peter’s ear. “Yes cucciolo? Something you need to say?”

“There’s people here, all around us… Anyone could see...” Peter trailed off, not understanding why he had to explain his alarm.

“What, haven’t practiced your poker face lately?” Tony grinned against Peter’s hair. “None of that sounded like a safeword to me.”

Peter suppressed a reedy whine as he realized that Tony was right, fidgeting slightly as the vibrations increased in intensity. He didn’t want to stop. Tony hummed in satisfaction, leaning back into his seat, stretching his legs out and to all appearances, idly checking the notifications on his watch.

The plug inside him burst into a flurry of earthquaking vibrations, the chair creaking slightly as Peter wrapped his hands around the edge of the seat to anchor himself. Peter tried his hardest to keep his face neutral and his eyes open though they were glazed unseeingly toward the stage. He said a quiet prayer of thanks that his jacket was hiding the front of his shirt that was now soaked through with pre, his dick back to throbbing and leaking profusely. To his delight and horror, the vibration was still increasing in intensity, slowly ramping up, and up, and up. Peter was frozen in his seat, biting his lip to stifle the intense moans that threatened to burst from his throat. He couldn’t help the slight rocking motion of his hips on the chair, looking for all the world like a bored twenty-something fidgeting, rather than one melting down from intense pleasure.

The vibrations were almost numbingly strong now, jackhammering against his sweet spot as Peter ground down on the knotted rope between his cheeks. Humid prickles of sweat were forming against Peter’s flanks and on the back of his neck, around his hairline and above his lips. The room felt scorchingly hot as the tidal wave of pleasure rose within Peter like molten lava dripping in his veins. Peter could barely unfurl his hands from around the chair, which was starting to dent under his grip. He folded them to press against the hardness in his lap, which was demanding attention beneath his tuxedo jacket, resisting the urge to hump wildly against his fingers with an iron will.

Tony leaned in from his careless sprawl to speak softly in Peter’s ear, his own voice tight with desire. “You gonna cum cucciolo? In front of all these people? Who knows who might be watching, you’d better keep that dumb puppy pokerface up while you make a mess.”

Peter’s entire body started to quiver beyond his ability to suppress as the words penetrated the haze surrounding his brain. Tony crowded in closer and pushed his arm beneath Peter’s jacket, wrapping it around Peter’s waist as if to steady him, while really shifting the line of rope between Peter’s cheeks. It was just a fraction of an inch higher, but it ratcheted up the coiled tension in Peter’s core. He was teetering on the edge and just couldn’t fall over. Peter turned toward Tony, resting his head on the man’s shoulder to disguise the tears of need pooling in his eyes.

Tony chuckled knowingly into Peter’s ear and unbuttoned Peter’s jacket, using the now relaxed fabric as a shield for his actions. “You want me to touch that hungry dick, puppy?” Tony cooed, “Of course you do, dirty boy, you always need a little help, don’t you?”

Peter nodded emphatically against Tony’s shoulder, not trusting his voice to reply. Tony navigated above Peter’s tightly pressed hands with deft fingertips, unbuttoning a single button and sliding his fingers into the gap in the soaked fabric. He circled Peter’s slick cockhead with his calloused fingertips, gently rubbing and smearing the sticky pre around, soothing and inflaming all the same. It was so good, oh- oh- oh God it was so good! Peter realized distantly that he was whispering these words fervently into Tony’s shoulder, so he pushed his head down harder. Biting into Tony’s shoulder to suppress the muffled wail of “Daddy!” as the waves of pleasure finally crested, Peter flew over the peak. The tension coiled in his body snapped, whiting out the world as his eyes squeezed shut, his whole body shuddering, shooting out endless blurts of hot cum across Tony’s fingers into the confines of his shirt.

The sound of clapping slowly penetrated Peter’s post orgasmic haze, and he dimly recognized Tony’s competent hands buttoning him back up, disguising the evidence of what they’d done, and rubbing soothingly at his back. Peter blearily raised his head as the lights began to brighten, leaning back onto his own chair with an exhausted and content sigh.

#starkerkink2020 #starker #livvibee #nff

16 notes · View notes

myownworldstayout · 5 years ago

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New Friends Ch. 15

Ch.1 / Ch.14 / Ch.16

(So, I’m thinking I’ll just update these when I write them, ya know? but I’ll try to update at least every week- or every Sunday -if I fall behind)

“Felix, you should’ve seen yourself!” Wayhem exclaimed, practically buzzing with excitement. “You had this weird suit on and your hair was black and, man, your eyes they-”

“They were intense!” Aurore jumped in, flailing her arms around. As soon as school was over, the group was insistent upon giving Felix a detailed play-by-play on what he did under Hawkmoth’s control. Strangely enough, they seemed pretty proud of his work.

“You would’ve loved Lila’s look of horror when she spit out her tongue.” Kagami said calmly, though she held an air of amusement in her tone.

The blond in question nodded along absently, keeping his nose in his book. He didn’t appear to be too interested in learning about his akumatization.

Marinette bit the inside of her lip, shifting on her bedroom floor. She wanted to ask him if he was alright, but they hadn’t gotten a moment alone since they returned to the school earlier. Not only that, she really needed to go talk to Master Fu about their.. Situation.

“Marinette was awesome, as always, talking you down to let Chat Noir catch up with us.” Wayhem added, straightening with pride as he smiled at her.

Felix’s gaze flicked to Marinette at the comment, and she noticed the grip on his book seemed a little tighter than necessary.

“Speaking of which, how did Felix get akumatized?” Aurore asked thoughtfully.

Marinette glanced at Felix, trying to gawk a reaction on how she should respond. He didn’t give her any clues.

“He took the butterfly for me.” She finally said. “He used his book as a shield, but then got akumatized himself.”

Wayhem whistled. “And what an akuma it was! If it weren’t for you, Ladybug and Chat Noir might have never caught him.”

“I know right!” Aurore grinned. “I wonder what would have happened if they didn’t catch him, ya know? Fe as a villain makes a lot of sense, actually.”

A frown tugged at the corner of Marinette’s lips. Felix? As a villain? She didn’t even want to imagine it.

And from the way he tensed up next to her, she had a hunch he didn’t want to either.

“Felix could never be a villain.” She spoke up on his behalf.

Kagami chuckled. “I don’t know, Marinette. He certainly doesn’t seem like the hero type.”

“And look at today! I heard he even got Chat Noir to lose the ability to feel. Do you think Ladybug got hit?” Wayhem said eagerly. No one wanted the heroes to suffer, of course, but now that they knew everything was alright, it was fun to talk about it.

Aurore groaned. “Ugh, I wish you could remember what you did!”

Felix huffed, and Marinette barely caught the reply, “That makes one of us.”

Aurore and Wayhem both took a breath to continue their rambles when Luka cleared his throat.

“Hey, guys, it’s getting kinda late. We should probably get going so we can get our homework done.”

The group glanced out the window, seeing the sun just starting to set over the buildings.

Marinette smiled. She knew what Luka was doing, and she couldn’t be more grateful. How was he able to read them all so well?

“I think that’s a good idea.” Kagami agreed, catching onto the scheme and standing up.

A few extra looks from the two had Aurore and Wayhem on their feet as well.

“Oh, right, yeah. We were definitely assigned homework.” Wayhem nodded awkwardly, scratching the back of his head.

“See you guys tomorrow!” Aurore waved, being the first to open the trapdoor and step down the ladder.

Everyone left single-file through the trapdoor. Until it was Felix’s turn.

“Uhm..” Marinette started, lightly touching his upper arm to stop him. She’d hoped he would pick up on Luka’s message and stay put. That would have saved some awkwardness. “Why don’t we go up to the balcony? For some fresh air?”

Felix looked down at her hand, contemplating her words.

“Alright.”

Marinette leaned on the balcony, feeling the cool metal against her arms. The red sun slowly slipped beneath the buildings, melting into an orange sky. The chatter of their friends grew faint as they traveled to their separate homes. She glanced at Felix, who was leaning on the balcony next to her. He still wouldn’t meet her gaze, choosing to watch the sky instead.

It wasn’t until they couldn’t hear the others talking anymore that she spoke.

“Are you.. Are you okay?” The question felt ridiculous. Felix obviously wasn’t acting like himself. Though she’d never been akumatized herself, Marinette knew how much it can affect people.

Felix didn’t respond at first, lowering his eyes to the sidewalk.

“I could have hurt you today.” His voice was so small, so soft, it made Marinette’s heart ache. It made her want to hold him close and tell him everything was fine, just like he did for her two days ago.

Felix sighed, shaking his head. “I thought I was helping. You.. being who you are..”

Marinette held back a laugh. “Being who she is”? That’s a good way of referring to her alter ego. She’d have to remember that.

“I knew you couldn’t get akumatized, but I didn’t think about what would happen if I got akumatized. All the things I did, all the things I could’ve done. And you were so close to me, I just..” He trailed off, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Who knows what I could’ve done to you.”

She couldn’t help the blush spreading across her cheeks. Even though Felix knew she was Ladybug, He was still thinking about her safety, her protection. He was upset because he could have hurt her.

And I love you for it. Her blush deepened when she remembered his words from earlier. She’d brushed them off because of the circumstances. People say crazy things all the time under Hawkmoth’s influence. But seeing him now… was it possible he meant it? What if Felix did love her? How would she even feel about that? Did she love him back?

Marinette drew in a breath to calm herself, hesitantly touching his forearm.

“For the record.. I don’t think you could ever hurt me. Even when you were akumatized, you didn’t touch me. Not as Marinette or Ladybug.”

She remembered the way he spoke to her, the way he looked at her so tenderly despite being filled with hatred and vengeance. No, Felix would never hurt her, would he? He actually cared for her, however hard that may be to see.

Felix finally met her eyes, and Marinette stared back. She hadn’t noticed the blue specks in his silver eyes until now.

Her heart skipped a beat when he carefully placed his hand on hers.

“Well, at least I had some sense about me during.. that time.” He murmured, turning away from her again. It was like he didn’t think he deserved to look at her anymore.

Marinette glanced down at their hands. The others always joked about it, but she never realized how protective Felix really was of her until now.

“I want to help.” He had said. He didn’t want her being Ladybug alone. He’d proven how serious he was about keeping that promise today.

“Felix, I want to take you somewhere, but it’s kind of far. How do you feel about heights?”

~~~~~~

Lila still found herself shifting her tongue in her mouth even hours later. Stupid Felix. Marinette was supposed to be the one akumatized! Not him! But of course he ended up taking the hit, huh? He just had to be her loyal lap dog till the end, didn’t he?

“I’m surprised we had to finish our classes today. That akuma was brutal.” She heard Nino sigh as she walked into the Clair De Lune cafe. Adrien, Alya, and Nino were having a study session to finish homework and talk. Naturally, she was invited as well.

“I know right! I couldn’t even get good footage of Felix because of that stunt he pulled.” Alya complained, swiping on her phone. Try as she might, Lila could hear the uneasiness in the reporter’s voice clear as day.

“Oh, that stinks. Maybe I can help you clear the footage later!” Lila joined in, sitting in the empty seat next to Alya. She ignored the way Nino switched looks with Adrien.

“Really? I didn’t know you could edit videos.” Alya said gingerly, also ignoring the boys’ reactions.

Lila scoffed, holding her head high with a smile. “Of course! How else do you think I helped Jagged Stone with his concerts, or got that charity event over the news?”

“Hey, Al, I thought you said you weren’t inviting Lila.” Nino suddenly whispered, lightly nudging his girlfriend.

Lila’s smile faltered at that. She almost had to look away to avoid glaring at him. Why was Nino getting skittish all of a sudden? She thought that offer to get him a solo act on TV had pulled him in for sure!

Alya rolled her eyes, setting her phone down on the table. “I already told you. It was a misunderstanding!”

“Uh, what was a misunderstanding?” Lila asked hesitantly.

The two turned to her, Nino with a frown and Alya with a sigh.

“Nino thinks your lying.”

“I didn’t say that!”

“Yes you did!”

“Lying? Me?” Lila gasped, dramatically putting a hand to her mouth and batting her eyes.

“Yeah!” Alya answered before Nino could explain himself. “He says that since Felix said you were ‘spreading lies and filth’ that you’d lied somehow. I told him it was crazy, of course.”

Nino huffed, shifting his cap. “Felix was a truth akuma! Those kinds literally can’t lie!”

“He was a punishment akuma. He could have easily bent the punishments to fit his own delusions.” Alya shot back, crossing her arms.

While they were distracted with each other, Lila blinked several times, then widened her eyes as much as possible. She used up all of her eyedrops earlier so this would have to do.

“Guys, please, you don’t have to fight!” She cut in, flailing her arms a bit.

“It’s..it’s really okay. I understand why you’re upset, Nino. It only makes sense you’d think I’m responsible for the horrible things Felix did. He was akumatized because I outed him as a bully, after all.” Lila lamented, eyes wide and teary as she traced circles on the table with her finger.

Alya gasped in disbelief, sending a quick glare to Nino before grabbing Lila’s shoulder in comfort.

“Of course it’s not your fault! Felix is the one to blame here. That man’s a villain whether he’s akumatized or not.” She said bitterly.

Lila nodded, standing up nonetheless.

“Thank you, Alya. you’re so sweet! I wouldn’t want Nino to be uncomfortable, though..” She smiled sadly, hanging her head a bit and gesturing towards the capped boy.

As expected, Alya immediately turned to Nino, giving him a look. The DJ appeared to be disgruntled by it, but only sunk in his seat and put on his headphones.

“No, it’s not a problem. You can stay.” He grumbled.

Upon hearing the words, Lila immediately straightened and sat back down in her seat. Good. She still had Alya. Adrien didn’t say anything at all during the exchange, meaning she also still had him. Now, about getting Nino back..

~~~~~~

Ladybug held Felix tightly in her arms as she jumped from rooftop to rooftop. She thought he would be nervous when she suggested they travel in this manner, but to her surprise, he seemed completely calm. Actually, she could’ve sworn she saw a faint smile grace his lips when she made a particularly long leap. His arms hung loosely around her neck, unbothered even when she became unbalanced a few times from extra weight. He trusted her.

The thought warmed her heart. Felix trusted her. She vowed to show him that his trust wasn’t misplaced.

“Alright, We’re here.” She announced, landing in front of Master Fu’s massage shop. “I’m gonna go detransform real quick. Don’t go anywhere.”

Felix nodded, tentatively studying the building before them, and Marinette ducked into an alleyway nearby.

“What do you think Master Fu’s gonna say when you explain things to him?” Tikki said eagerly, taking a bite of the macaroon Marinette gave her.

“Hopefully he says ‘Yes’.” Marinette muttered to herself, signaling for Tkkki to hide as she walked out of the alleyway.

“Are you ready to go inside?” She asked Felix, situating her bag on her shoulder.

He nodded, stepping towards the door. “Yes, but why are we here?”

Marinette smiled, a certain eagerness reflecting in her eyes. “You’ll see.”

~~~~~~

Breath in.

Then breath out.

Breath in.

Then breath out.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Things were getting a little out of hand as of late. They still didn’t have any leads on Hawkmoth. Ladybug seemed to be getting more anxious, and Chat Noir.. he’s a steadily growing problem. Their dynamic as heroes was fine for the time being, but as civilians-

“Master! Ladybug is here!” Wayzz suddenly called out, right before a knock sounded on his door.

“Master? It’s Marinette. I came to talk to you about something.”

Unsurprising. She wouldn’t come to him if that wasn’t the case. Now, to decide exactly how important that something was. Perhaps she wanted to vent about Lila again, or maybe give some development about Adrien..

“Of course, of course. Come on in. you are always welcome here, Marinette.” He said warmly, standing to open the door for her.

A few whispers came from the other side, and when he pulled the door open, he noticed a blonde-haired boy accompanying her. The blonde looked to be around her age and had a strange resemblance to Plagg’s holder. They were probably related somehow.

Marinette smiled, giving a small bow. “Thank you, Master. Let’s talk in the room, if you don’t mind.”

Fu nodded and stepped to the side so she could pass. “Will your friend be joining us?”

She spare a glance to the boy. “He’ll come in later.”

“Someone found out my identity.”

Fu tried not to look panicked at the statement. Identity reveals cause a lot of problems, especially when they’re created on accident.

“The boy outside?” He assumed.

She nodded. “But it’s not what you think.”

A slight sense of relief. Maybe the reveal was on purpose then? Or something else caused him to find out? Either way, it was good to see Marinette so composed. It meant she had control of the situation.

“He wants to help us.” She then added.

..hm..interesting.

“Go on.” Fu prompted, lightly stroking his chin.

She quickly explained from the beginning, how she met the boy, their growing friendship, the reveal, his akumatization. Everything.

“I know we don’t normally do this,” Marinette said, subtly playing with the carpet on the floor, “but I think Felix has proven himself.”

Fu didn’t respond at first, considering her words.

“Permanent heroes can be risky. Are you sure he’s ready for this responsibility?”

“Absolutely.” Her tone was confident and certain with a clear determination blazing in her eyes.

Fu smiled. “Then I trust your judgement. Please, bring him in.”

~~~~~~

Felix shifted on the floor in the hall for the fourth time in the last ten minutes. He still had no idea why they were there, or why Marinette decided to become so cryptic all of a sudden.

Speaking of cryptic, who was the man that she greeted on the door? Why did she call him ‘Master’?

The doorknob turned, and Felix scrambled to his feet. The door swung open, revealing the old man from earlier. Marinette stood behind him, a bright smile on her face.

“Master Fu, this is Felix Culpa.” She introduced.

The man narrowed his eyes, looking Felix up and down. It felt odd being on the other end of a scrutinizing gaze.

He then smiled. “Nice to meet you, Felix.”

“Likewise.” Felix replied shortly, sparing another questioning glance to Marinette. Her smile didn’t waver.

The man- Master Fu, apparently? -waved his cane towards the room.

“Come in. There is much to talk about.”

Felix found himself following without much resistance. Something about the man’s demeanor told him there was no need for paranoia.

“It’s my understanding that you would like to help out.” Master Fu inquired vaguely as they sat down.

Another quick glance to Marinette.

“Yes, as much as I can.”

Master Fu gave a satisfied nod, then gestured to the ravenette next to them. “Ladybug’s made quite a vouch for you.”

Heat rose to his cheeks. She.. vouched for him?

“And I trust her judgement.” Fu continued. “Now it’s up to you.”

Felix didn’t miss Marinette’s small gasp when the man took off his turtle shaped bracelet and handed it to him.

“Felix Culpa, will you take the miraculous of protection and accept the responsibility to stay by Ladybug’s side in times of peril?”

Felix didn’t respond at first, turning it in his hand. It was hard to believe such a mundane object could hold so much power.

“Yes. I will protect her.” He finally answered, meeting Marinette’s gaze. “With my life.”

~~~~~~

Marinette practically skipped out onto the sidewalk. That went so much better than she expected!

“So what do we do now?” Felix asked next to her, still studying the miraculous on his wrist.

“Now, we train.” She answered, turning into the alleyway she de-transformed in earlier. “You need to get used to your new powers. So we’re gonna go on a small run through Paris, but be careful. I don’t want anyone finding out there’s a new turtle hero yet.”

The sun had set while they were inside. Therefore, they could use the night as a cloak for now. She didn’t want Hawkmoth getting wind of another permanent hero.

Felix didn’t bother asking for her reasons. “How do I transform?”

“Just say, ‘Wayzz, Shell On’!” Wayzz spoke up, flying up to Felix’s side. It had been a special surprise for Marinette when Master Fu gave up his miraculous. She supposed it made sense, though, with Felix being so protective.

Felix said the magic words, and a shimmering, green light washed over him.

His costume had similarities to Carapace’s. He still had the shell shield on his back, the same goggles, and color scheme, but there were also differences. For example, Felix’s hood was down, resting on his shoulders instead of his head. Dark green patches stretched across his elbows and knees, emphasizing the mini turtle shells strapped wrapped around them. The last difference was the dark green rings around his wrists and ankles. Overall, he looked..

“Impressive. What’s your name?”

Felix hummed, running his hands through his hair, which looked about the same in and out of costume.

“Buclier.” He decided, nodding to himself in silent confirmation. “Yeah, Buclier.”

Ladybug smirked. “Alright, ‘Buclier’, ready to show me what you’ve got?”

~~~~~~

Alya blew out a sigh as she opened the cafe door. She couldn’t believe how long it took to finish their homework. It was already night time!

“What did you guys get for number five again?” Nino asked behind her, holding his notebook with a confused expression.

Alya playfully groaned, looking up at the clear, starry sky with a smile. “Nino, for the hundredth time, it’s-”

A shadow passed over head.

“Did you see that?”

“See what?”

Another shadow passed.

“That!” Alya shouted, grabbing Nino’s arm and pointing to the spot she saw them. The first shadow definitely had a bit of red in it. Maybe it was Chat Noir and Ladybug on patrol again!

“Alya, I don’t see-”

Nino was cut off by a yank from Alya, who was dashing in the direction the shadows went. She didn’t see Ladybug during today’s akuma, and Felix got in her way the time before. There was no way she’d pass up another opportunity like this!

They wound through the streets of Paris, Alya fumbling to take out her phone and Nino shuffling behind her.

“I don’t think we should be doing this.” Nino mumbled uneasily.

Alya waved him off. “Why not? Ladybug obviously doesn’t mind. She even- oh look, there they are!”

She felt Nino bump into her when she suddenly stopped, but Alya was too focused on the pair ahead of her to mind. They stopped on a rooftop together and seemed to be talking. She wished she was close enough to hear them.

Raising her phone, Alya focused the camera on the two. Thanks to the city lights, She was able to see their figures, but nothing more. She started recording anyway, about to begin her usual greeting when something stopped her.

“Wait, who is that?”

“Who is who?” Nino responded, leaning around her to get a better view.

A third person, one with a tail and a familiar pair of ears. It was Chat Noir, but that didn’t make any sense. If that was Chat Noir, then who’s the other person that Ladybug’s talking too? A new hero? There weren’t any akumas out though..

What was going on?

~~~~~~

Buclier did his best to keep up with Ladybug. Knowing this hero of Paris was also his clumsy classmate helped him not to feel too embarrassed when he slipped on a few rooftops every now and then. It didn’t help the mini heart attacks, though. You’d think the shoes to this suit would have more friction.

“Hey, you’re doing pretty good.” Ladybug complimented, stopping on a random rooftop to catch her breath.

“Well, I’ll certainly need more practice.” Buclier sighed, reaching up to fix his turtle shell. There was nothing wrong with it. He just felt a bit awkward having something on his back. The shield was surprisingly light.

For convenience in battle. He reasoned.

Ladybug shrugged, straightening to look at the night sky. “I think you’ll pick it up easily. You’re already really flexible, for some reason.”

“My mother didn’t put me through ballet for nothing.”

Ladybug blinked. “Wait, you take ballet?”

“Since I was six.” Felix confirmed.

“How did I not know about this?”

He opened his mouth to reply, but a certain alley cat interrupted him.

“Okay! I’m here!” Chat assured, landing between them and holding his staff at the ready. “Where’s the akuma? Or emergency or whatever? Why didn’t you call me, Bugaboo?”

Something about Chat calling Marinette ‘Bugaboo’ didn’t seem to sit right with Felix, but he ignored it. They were going to be a team now, after all. They needed to learn to work together, for Ladybug’s sake.

“Uh.. because there isn’t an emergency.” Ladybug replied. “Chat, this is Buclier. He’s going to be a permanent hero, now.”

Chat frowned, confusion spreading across his features as he put his staff away. “Permanent hero? I thought we didn’t do that. And what happened to Carapace?”

Ladybug winced. “There were.. Difficulties.”

Felix wondered what she meant by that. “Difficulties”. Although he knew her identity, Marinette had yet to reveal the other miraculous secrets to him that she knew. He didn’t mind. She would tell him when she- or he -was ready.

“Anyway, I talked with Master Fu. He agreed that this was a good course of action. If we have another hero behind the scenes, we might be able to defeat the akumas faster and find out where Hawkmoth is hiding.”

Chat glanced between Buclier and Ladybug, not appearing to be fond with the idea.

“I guess..” He finally relented. “So we keep this a secret then?”

Ladybug nodded. “Yes, for now.”

Chat Noir nodded as well, shifting to get a better look at Buclier.

“Well, welcome to the team, but just so you know,” He wrapped his arm around Ladybug’s shoulders, “LB and I are super close. So don’t get too comfortable.”

Yeah, that definitely didn’t sit right with Felix.

“Chat!” Ladybug scolded, slipping out of the heroine’s grasp.

“What? It’s true.” Chat Noir defended, crossing his arms like the petulant child Buclier decided he was.

“Thank you for the welcome, but I believe Ladybug was trying to ‘show me the ropes’.” Buclier spoke up, subtly stepping more between Chat and Ladybug like Chat had done moments earlier.

“He’s right!” Ladybug agreed, effectively cutting the cat off. “We should get going. See you later!”

She threw her yo-yo out and swung away before anyone could object. Felix followed, not acknowledging Chat’s glare as he left. It appeared this team-up was going to be a bit more rocky than he had hoped.

Tag List: @unabashedbookworm @bluerosette23 @minightrose@kuroko26@im-here-for-the-content @angstyrastuff @clumsy-owl-4178 @fanboy7794@choaticneturcl @bigcheeseyboi @burntnugget-tae @ayuchan07@honorisfortheweak @knightrose15 @mjisntme@rhub4rb @simplythebestbug@wilhelmares@zebrabaker@dargeon-lissa @kristycocopop @alumneia @kaydenth3gayden @thornangelic727 @flirtshobi @whatamessofwords @offically-over-it @flashflashitsash @thewingting @aegyobutpsycho2 @zoeytheweeb @zeyheartstaylor @friedchickening

#Felinette #Felix Culpa #New Friends AU

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