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chicago-pd-is-weird · 5 days ago

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Day 7: Passing Out/Unresponsive

@the-three-shits-whump

Read it on AO3 via the link, or find it below the cut:

Trudy smiled as she stood behind the desk, Erin walking up to greet her. “Hey, Sergeant.”

“Lindsay, what can I do for you?” Trudy asked, leaning forward on the desk.

“I was wondering if you could look into someone for me… off the books,” Erin replied, quieter now.

Trudy hummed, taking the paper Erin slipped her. “Who is it?”

“A bad guy,” she replied. “A real bad guy. I’m hoping to track him down before anyone else can.”

Trudy looked at Erin, seeing the same look in her eye Hank often had before he did something stupid, like hide a body. She sighed, debating helping, but took the paper and nodded. “I’ll look into it. No guarantees.”

“Thank you, Trudy,” Erin replied.

—

That was how it had started, at least. Innocent as checking into someone’s background and history. It ramped up after that, Trudy telling Erin exactly what she found out, which wasn’t good. Erin thanked her and Trudy figured that was going to be the end of it. She never figured it would be traced back to her.

Never in a million years.

Kim walked up to the desk, Kevin in tow, a box in his hands. He held it as Kim grabbed Trudy’s attention. “Sarge?”

“What is it, Burgess?” Trudy asked, not looking up from her reports.

“Package for you. Got dropped off with the mail outside.” Kim set the stack of letters in a paper tray, Kevin setting the box on the desk, prompting Trudy to glance up.

Trudy furrowed her brow. “A package? I don’t remember ordering anything.”

“The return address says it’s from the ivory tower,” Kim pointed out. “Maybe it’s a new jacket or something.”

Trudy looked down at her jacket, then back at Burgess. “What’s wrong with the one I have, Burgess?”

Kim looked a little uncomfortable, shrugging. “Nothing, Sergeant. It looks nice. I just thought… Maybe since you like it so much… they maybe sent you another one?”

“Yeah, right, I gotta beg just for more toilet paper around here,” Trudy huffed, cutting the tape with her pocket knife, then opening the box. Just as she did, something sprayed out, some kind of strong mist. Kim and Kevin jumped back, but it hit Trudy directly in the face. She blinked, shocked at first, looking down at the package, seeing nothing but some kind of mechanism that deployed the mist. She groaned, blinking as the voices around her faded. Kim and Kevin’s voices meshed together, then got far away. Trudy hadn’t even realized she was falling until she hit the ground, too weak to move. The world spun around her as she saw others she knew at her side, particularly Hank and Alvin. Then, her eyes rolled back and the world went black.

Hank and Al walked up the steps of the district, Hank shaking his head. “Al, I’m telling you, you can’t live in the garage anymore. Come stay at my place.”

“I want to be close to Lexi. She’s my life, man. I don’t want to miss these years when she needs me most.”

“And you think living in the garage is gonna solve that? Come on, Al.”

“At least I’ll be close. That’s better than being halfway across Chicago. I mean, look at Antonio and his divorce. It’s terrible.”

Hank hummed, shrugging. He couldn’t argue with that. He opened the door and walked in with Al, walking up the inside steps of the district and to the front desk. “Help!” He heard a familiar voice call. Hank and Al sprung into action, running around the desk to see Kim and Kevin kneeling beside Trudy. She was moaning, obviously something was wrong.

“Move,” Hank commanded, Burgess moving out of his way. “Call for an ambo, now!”

Kim got onto her radio, calling for an ambulance to be dispatched to the district. Trudy was still moaning, seemingly trying to stay in this world and not move on to the next.

Hank brushed her hair away from her face and cupped it. “Trudy? Trudy! Come on, can you hear me? Dee, come on!” Hank put a fist on her chest, pressing and rubbing it up and down, trying to see if she would wake up or respond. When her eyes rolled back and fluttered shut, Hank frowned and looked at Al, who had taken Kevin’s place. “The hell?”

Al looked up at the two beat officers, who were obviously stressed. “What happened?”

“Sh-She opened this box,” Kim said, going to grab it.

“Hey, hey, just leave it,” Al replied. “Don’t need anyone else hurt, either.”

“Some kind of mist sprayed out of it. Next thing we knew, she was on the ground,” Kevin said.

“The return address was HQ,” Kim continued. “We didn’t think it was suspicious cause it was with the rest of the mail and-“

“Evacuate the building,” Hank said. “We don’t know what we’re dealing with. Have everyone take the back way out. Don’t walk past here unless it’s absolutely necessary. We have no idea if this is contagious or not, so we want to limit exposure. Go now.”

Kim and Kevin went off to evacuate the building, taking everyone out the back way. The Intelligence Unit, however, tried to come down the stairs. Alvin stood and shook his head. “No, go out the back way. Go.”

“Al, we want to help,” Adam pleaded.

“There’s nothing you guys can do. Get out. We don’t know what this is.”

The rest of the team reluctantly left, except for Erin. She took a few steps closer. “I know what this is.”

Hank continued to take Trudy’s vitals, trying to wake her and get her to respond to stimuli, but it was no use. Alvin looked at Erin. “How do you know?”

“Hector Temple,” she replied. “I’ve been tracking him off the books for a while now. Trudy helped me.”

Hank looked up at Al with a frown, Al kneeling and switching places with Hank as he walked over to Erin. “Hector Temple? Why are you looking into him?”

“Because… He might be my father. My birth father.”

Hank blinked, then huffed. “Temple was a shit cop. He was fired for negligence. Then, he ran off and I didn’t head of him again until he popped up on a most wanted list. Apparently, he was a major player in the drug scene.”

“Yeah,” Erin replied. “He disappeared but sometimes he pops back up in Chicago. There’s been a pattern that every few years he comes back. I wanted to find him this time and get some answers.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this, you-“

“Hank, he sent a box with gas in it. Is Trudy going to be okay?”

Hank pointed up the stairs. “Go out the back and wait with the rest of the unit. Fill them in on what you know about this guy. We’re finding him and we’re taking came of him once and for all. Go.”

Just then, the paramedics rushed in, Al urging them behind the desk to take a look at Trudy. Hank watched Erin go back up the stairs, tears brimming her eyes. Then, he turned and went to help the paramedics. “Alright, we need to get her to the hospital,” one of them said. “We’ll get the stair chair and-“

“No need,” Hank replied, leaning down and picking Trudy up bridal-style. “Let’s go, we’ll get her onto the gurney this way.”

“Alright then,” the paramedic said, walking ahead of Hank to get the gurney. Hank carried Trudy out, Al close behind with the other paramedic. They got her onto the stretcher and loaded into the ambo. Hank pointed at the ambo. “Go with her, Al.”

“You both need to. You, and anyone who’s contaminated.”

Hank looked around, scanning the crowd. “Burgess, Atwater!” He called, the two running over in record time. “Get up in there. Go with her.”

“Yes sir,” Kim said, getting into the ambo with Al, Kevin riding up front.

“If it’s something serious, I’ll come in,” Hank said, nodding to Al and taking a final look at Trudy before shutting the ambo door and banging on it, the sirens wailing. Hank sighed deeply, then looked over all the employees standing outside the district, including his own unit. He walked over to them, nodding. “Let’s go. We have work to do.”

#chicago pd #chicagopd #cpd #hank voight #sargent hank voight #sergeant hank voight #alvin olinsky #trudy platt #the three shits: whump week #whump event #whump

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pr1ncesspopstar · 1 year ago

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You've Got Mail - FFXIV Write 2023 - Day 22: Fulsome

Small NSFW Warning for Mentioned (not depicted) Nudity

Ao3

“Fucking Hells.”

Halditar could only stare at the mess that was her apartment. A puddle of paper literally rushing out the door to escape. Towers and stacks of letters and packages precariously swayed as Ifort and Aven tried to sort through the piles littering the floor. The only sign of progress being made was the vanity that had a single neat pile of letters on top. She knew some people went crazy and got daring on Valentione’s Day, but this was ridiculous.

“Do you remember a ‘Lady Haruhime’ from Kugane?” Ifort asked from the chair he sat in, somehow as unruffled as ever with the surrounding chaos. He seemed to thrive in such conditions, so long as he had a task to focus on. By contrast, Aven was drowning, wildly dashing around the room to do this and that, but barely making a dent into the endless messages.

“I-I think? She might have been the one I helped with an imported chocobo… maybe?” Halditar struggled to recall, scooping up the letters that fell out when she came in and dropping them on the bed. The place smelled like a writer’s guild with all the ink in the air.

“Understood. In the trash then…” The blonde elezen tossed it into one of a few burlap sacks, already overfilled with affectionate letters.

It was a bit of a cruel sight, but if the Warrior of Light had to sit and read EVERY SINGLE letter, she’d be out of commission for months. And after the first hundred, she knew plenty of them were over-verbose lip service, and sometimes worse. She didn’t need to have badly written fantasies taking up space in her head with more important things going on, or taking up space in her house. So they were all on the job to sort the friendly valentines from the rest, and hope they could turn them back into usable paper.

“I found an entire set from a family with nothing but marriage proposals! Who in their right mind just sends these kinds of things casually in this age?!” Aven fumed and puffed. The shorter hyru was red in the face with frustration, more than happy to fume for both the hero and his less expressive co-worker. By him, the ever-growing Garlean bullpup yapped with glee, grabbing some unfortunate person’s letter and ripping it to bits, excited by all the chaos going on around them.

Halditar’s leaned down and snagged a letter off the floor before the dog could turn it into confetti. It hit her with the thick odor of musk, cedar, and some ambiguous ‘sea’ smell. Swallowing back a gag of shock, she tore off the top and skimmed the writing before her.

“-your beautiful, ethereal voice to join me on these trips, as I’m an adventurer myself, you know. I can already see you petal like, glistening lips under-”

“Ooooookay, I don’t need to read anymore of this one. I’m getting dizzy just from the cologne.” Halditar spared herself, moving to the burlap sack and shoving the letter deep inside. Her arm pushed out a waft of perfume, so thick and cloying she had to take a few minutes to cough and clear her nose, brain burning from the olfactory assault.

“I’m never going to wear perfume again after today…” she groaned, already sick of this all. She was actually quite fond of the love-celebrating holiday, but by the Gods did it get harder being someone of her caliber and apparent popularity.

“Maybe you should fake date someone, that will get all these suitors off your back.” Ifort said, sounding as serious as usual.

“Don’t make such jokes, I might actually consider it…” Halditar responded, looking at the mountains of letters around her and wondering if getting a partner would solve such a specific problem.

“Lady Halditar will do no such thing!” Aven shook with ire at the very idea. Ready to go on about such an impossibility if the window didn’t slam open with a sudden breeze. Paper whipped into the air as all their eyes widened in horror. The Mail Moogle floated in, cheery as ever.

“Please, don’t tell me…” Halditar’s voice bordered a beg, silently pleading with the moogle to just leave. Alas, the jolly creature was oblivious as ever.

“Delivery, kupo! You’re quite the popular one, you know that, Haldi?” The mail-moogle turned his bag over, and the floodgates opened. The new stack of letters started piling, inch by inch. Spilling out and covering what little remained of the floorboards in all varieties of colored paper. The three watched in some mix of despair, exhaustion, and disbelief as the time elapsed passed over a minute, slowing finally and stopping just before it reached two. As the last few letters fluttered to the floor, Halditar took a breath.

“Is that-“

The moogle shook the bag again, and an additional stream started. A flood of petals and flowers, bouquets big and small, tumbling over each other, unfurling and falling apart. Pollen and the sweet smell danced in the air, the ground now looking like she and Ifort had spilled their botanist spoils all over the ground. She could feel her brow twitching. How was this less believable and frustrating than some things she’s gone through?

“Is- “

The winged-bringer of more work gave his bag a mighty slap. A last gift fell out. One that made the roegadyn flush red in shock.

“Is that someone’s fucking nude portrait?!” Aven screeched. Halditar removed her glasses, mercifully blurring her vision from seeing too much of that, grabbed the frame, and tossed it to the flabbergasted white-haired man.

“Yup! See that it’s burned or sold! Don’t care which, just get it out! Moogle, thanks, here’s a kupo nut, and you better not come back for the rest of the day!” Halditar threw the nut out the window, sending the little mailman chasing after it. Once he was out, she slammed the window shut and locked it shut. Aven was already out the door. More than what to get rid of that gift. Exhaustion already brewing in her bones, she collapsed onto the bed with a cloud of paper bouncing around her in response. A heart-shaped one envelope settled on her head, blocking out most of her vision.

Maybe there was a limit to the praise she could handle in a single day.

#ffxiv #ffxiv wol #ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2023 #ff14 #my writing

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andypantsx3 · 4 years ago

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statistically significant | 2 | bakugou/reader

length: 23,490 words | 7 chapters

summary: You’re the scientist who developed a neural net to model the value of assists. Now that your work is feeding into the hero rankings, pro hero Ground Zero has a bone to pick with your results.

tags: romance, enemies to lovers, sexual tension, reader-insert

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut, m/f threats of violence, problematic behavior

note: I cannot overemphasize that this interpretation of Bakugou is based on season 1 Bakugou, which means he behaves very questionably at the beginning. Please heed the warnings!

Present day

Miruko’s agency was large, much larger than you had expected.

From the street, it had looked unobtrusive enough, a moderately-sized office building with a modern-looking glass front. You could see into a large reception area on the ground floor, and open workspaces on the next few floors, conjoined desks piled high with paperwork and slightly wilted-looking office plants. If not for Miruko’s name emblazoned over the entry in bold, metallic letters, you could have taken it for just another office building.

Once inside, however, the building became much more than that. After checking in at reception, you were led deep into the building, and gestured into an elevator that took you tens of floors down. When the doors opened, they let out into a cavernous space, stretching under what must have been the entire block. The floor was equipped with a gym, several reinforced training spaces the size of office buildings themselves, and what appeared to be a surveillance room where footage from the training spaces could be replayed.

Your mouth dropped open. Did all hero agencies hide deep underground like this? How many other underground floors were there? How big was Miruko Agency, really?

Your guide had enough tact to ignore your inelegant expression, instead leading you towards a training room. A huge, clear window tens of meters across looked into the space, but you would bet anything that it was made of some material much stronger than glass, which was especially evidenced by what you could see going on beyond the window.

Rubble littered the room, scattered in towering piles that gave the appearance of a post-doomsday cityscape. You didn’t know if the room had been set up this way, or if the rubble was the result of the battle going on within; there were two heroes that you could see darting around the space, both appearing to be causing maximum chaos.

Closest to you, a woman with wild pink curls was emitting a powerful stream of some cement-colored substance that ate away at anything it touched, causing it to smoke and hiss and crumble. She melted a huge hole in a pile of rubble, and a man with a shock of golden-yellow hair leapt away from what had probably been his hiding place, backpedaling wildly.

You perked up when you realized who they were--Ashido Mina, the number twenty-nine hero Pinky, and Kaminari Denki, the number thirty-three hero Chargebolt.

Kaminari threw out a hand, and a crackling wave of lightning struck out at Ashido. The lights flickered out briefly, and even behind the window, you could feel your hair stand on end. You blinked past the powerful flash that had temporarily blinded you, casting about for Ashido who had surely been struck down, only to choke on a laugh when you caught sight of her flashing Kaminari the middle finger, sliding away from a huge chunk of rubble she’d dislodged with her acid to use as a shield.

“They’re idiots,” a voice intoned from your side.

You nearly jumped out of your skin, turning to find Miruko herself standing next to you, powerful arms crossed over her chest. Despite her words, a little fond-looking smile flickered at the edges of her mouth.

You schooled your slack jawed expression into a smile. “I don’t know--their personalities are mostly why they’re so popular, so they must be doing something right. I did a little digging into everyone’s results before I got here, and they stood out among a lot of the rest.”

Miruko’s gaze flicked over you. She was short, maybe even shorter than you, but her keen red eyes and very lethal-looking biceps more than made up for her stature. She was intimidating in person, an air about her that told you she could snap and turn on you at any second. Despite the fact that she had asked you here herself, you felt like she might seize you and bodily throw you out of her agency.

“And that’s why they’re idiots. Their results are buoyed by their personalities,” Miruko sniffed. “They need work.”

You prickled a little, feeling like you should say something in their defense, but the truth of it was, you were here to help them work on things.

Some weeks ago, Miruko had contacted the Public Safety Hero Commission with interest in the ranking model. Your version had been in production for close to a year, and you had recently been making scholarly noises about feedback loops, asking for permission to provide pro heroes with individual results breakdowns. Miruko had caught wind of this and demanded on site assessments for her “team of frigging clowns” as she had so eloquently put it. And so you had been loaned out, with the idea of helping to direct the training for the heroes at Miruko Agency, providing them a real time comparison of their training footage to the generic hero ranking model results.

If this trial run was successful, if you could help any of the heroes measurably jump ranks, then the Commission had committed to providing individualized results for the thousands of heroes employed today. The Commission had also expressed interest in your idea of creating and packaging smaller models that took less technical skill to operate, for heroes to use to direct their own training. They had even seemed receptive to giving you a small team of research scientists and software engineers to build such a product, so you would be looking at a pretty sick promotion, not to mention.

Miruko made her way over to the surveillance room, beckoning you after her, and you watched as she leaned over a desk, pressing down a button with one gloved finger.

A crackling sound echoed overhead and her voice followed. “Alright, brats, recess is over. Anyone not heading out on patrol, meet in the surveillance room now.”

The flickering light from Kaminari’s lightning fizzled out, and the door to the training room opened not long after, Kaminari and Ashido spilling out in a chaotic whirlwind of limbs and petty squabbling. They were the first to arrive at the surveillance room, and Kaminari visibility perked up when he saw you.

“Hey!” he exclaimed, interrupting himself on a gasp when Ashido’s elbow caught him in the ribs. “What the fuck, Mina--! Why are your elbows so sharp? Can you just not--?” He grabbed her elbow. “Stop, look, it’s stats girl! From the Awards!”

You startled a little, shocked that he had remembered you. That had been almost a year ago, and you’d only exchanged a couple quick comments in the stairwell.

Ashido looked up from where she appeared to be attempting to crack one of his ribs, her expression shifting into something altogether too interested. You flushed when a sharp grin broke out over her pretty features.

“Oh my god, you’re stats girl? I have been waiting forever. It’s an absolute honor to meet you.” She held out a palm, waggling her rosy fingers expectantly.

A rising sense of horror grew within you. Did...did Kaminari remember you so clearly because he’d told people about the incident? What exactly had he mentioned to her? Who else had he spread the tale to?

“Um, yeah that’s me,” you managed, trying to tamp down your embarrassment.

Ashido grinned wider, leaning forward. “I was totally convinced Denki and Eijirou made you up, except that Katsuki wouldn’t stop plotting revenge out loud for months. You’re, like, a legend. Do you do autographs?”

You gaped at her, your mind sticking on the phrase Katsuki wouldn’t stop plotting revenge out loud for months. A nervous, hunted energy crept over you. Revenge...for months.

Miruko’s rabbit ears twitched and she turned to you, frowning. “I wasn’t aware you’d already met some of my circus monkeys. Is this going to be a problem?”

You dithered nervously, not actually sure if it would be. You’d known Bakugou worked at her agency, considering you had done a fair amount of pre-work collecting everyone's results. But you’d honestly put off thinking about this. Bakugou had been in quite the rage at the Hero Awards, but that had been almost a year ago. And Ashido had phrased his revenge plans in the past tense… Surely he didn’t still hold as much of a grudge now?

Miruko eyed you suspiciously for a moment, but she was distracted when the scuffle of boots indicated the approach of other heroes, and a pair of burly men with curling satyr horns rounded the corner, one of them leaning forward to speak to her. Ashido sent you a wink when Miruko turned her back, mouthing something that looked suspiciously like later.

In the next few minutes, a small group of heroes assembled, ranging from relatively well-known heroes like Ashido and Kaminari, to a couple of heroes who ranked deep in the hundreds--you only knew some of their faces because Miruko had provided you with a list of her employees for preparatory research purposes. They formed a small crescent around the surveillance area, chattering lowly to themselves and eyeing you with speculative curiosity.

To your eternal relief, her most famously explosive employee was conspicuously absent, and you felt yourself relax when it seemed like everyone had turned up who was going to.

When it seemed like the crowd size was finally large enough to please her, Miruko barked a loud “SHUT UP” at them. The din of low voices instantly died down.

“Alright brats. Over the next few months, Y/N will be working here at the agency with us. She has been invited on behalf of the commission, and will be analyzing your quirks, your methods, and your recent work,” Miruko said. “She has individualized results pulled from the current hero rankings that can inform you how to improve. I expect you to take full advantage of this opportunity.”

She gestured to you, giving you a meaningful look as if she expected you to introduce yourself. You gave a little wave, glancing at the heroes around you.

“Um, hi,” you said. “As Miruko-san said, I can give you a little advice based on your current results breakdown. I also plan to analyze video of your training in the coming weeks, and build parallel models to simulate future results given your performance. We can compare those to the current rankings for an idea of how much work you will have to put into particular skills for you to move up in the ranks.”

A small murmur went through the crowd at the prospect of moving up in the ranks. Some gazes sharpened in interest.

You continued, “This is also a good chance to work on specific growth areas -- I can train smaller models on subsets of videos so you can compare your skills more directly with each other or with other heroes from other agencies. Please let me know if there is anything special any of you would like to focus on.”

Miruko stepped back in front of you. “Y/N is going to set up in the surveillance room for the next few weeks. I’ve already established checkpoints for all of you to meet with her, but I encourage you to meet with her more often if you can.”

There were a couple of nods, and a few interested whispers from somewhere at the back of the crowd. Miruko took a breath like she was going to say more, but then--

“Hard pass,” a voice growled from your left. Your hackles instantly raised, and it took your brain a couple seconds to catch up with your instincts. You whipped around wildly when you realized you knew that voice, and you almost jumped a full foot in the air when you caught sight of those familiar blonde spikes over another hero’s shoulder.

You hadn’t noticed his approach, but Bakugou had clearly returned from a fight only minutes ago. His hair drooped a little with sweat, there was dirt streaking the points of his high cheekbones, and his costume was shredded by a thousand tiny tears, like he’d been thrown through a glass window. And...was that blood on his gauntlets? Was it his?

You were torn between immediate annoyance and something like concern at the sight of him so obviously roughed up.

“The meetings are not optional,” Miruko’s voice took on a hard edge.

“I already know what this fucking nerd has to say,” Bakugou drawled dismissively. “And I don’t give a shit. I don’t need assists if I’m the one busy saving the fucking day.”

Your mood edged cleanly into annoyance. It seemed he hadn’t changed any, then.

Miruko’s face darkened. “It wasn’t a suggestion.”

Bakugou bared his teeth. They gleamed almost blindingly white against the dark dirt on his face. “No.”

A wild look entered Miruko’s eye at the challenge. “Everyone is dismissed. Except Katsuki,” she uttered in a low, dangerous tone.

There was a small pause. The heroes around you looked at her askance, and her features darkened even further. “I said scram. NOW!”

The effect was immediate. It felt like no sooner had you blinked than the hall was suddenly clear. The sight of Kaminari and Ashido wheeling around the corner was all the proof you had that the team hadn’t suddenly vanished from existence.

Bakugou snorted and propped himself lazily against a column, affecting a slouch, one pale eyebrow raised over his insouciant expression. It looked almost too perfectly arrogant, and you wondered if he practiced it in the mirror sometimes.

“I said the meetings are not optional, Katsuki,” Miruko hissed, taking a step closer to him. “You can ignore her suggestions all you want, but you will attend them.”

Close as they were, you could see she was almost a full head shorter than him, but the force of her anger seemed to make her larger somehow--she wasn’t towering over him, but she was certainly terrifying. Towering under, your mind supplied unhelpfully.

Bakugou, for his part, held his ground. His mouth curled disdainfully. “What’s the fucking point? The nerd’s just gonna tell me stupid shit. And I’m not going to listen.”

Your fingers twitched in irritation. Data wasn’t stupid shit -- it was mathmatical fact, almost as divorced from human bias as it was possible to be. How was it humanly possible that he hadn’t learned anything or grown even the littlest bit? How was it possible that he was just as infuriating as he was a year ago?

But fine. He could have things his way if that’s what he wanted.

Miruko’s face twisted in a scowl, and she took a deep breath like she was ready to start yelling. But you got there first.

“He has a point,” you said, giving him a hard look over the top of Miruko’s head. “I would hate to waste my time on someone who’s been stalled in the rankings for a year now. He wouldn’t know how to implement my advice even if I were to give it.”

You paused, letting an uncharacteristic smirk curl your mouth, trying your best to channel his disdainful energy. “Isn’t that right, Number Eight?”

Bakugou’s gaze sharpened over Miruko’s silver hair, twin pinpricks of red narrowing in on you. He abandoned his slouch, his body tensing like a hound that smelled blood. “What did you just say?”

You pushed down the petty satisfaction that rose within you at his reaction. He was so fucking prideful, so easy to bait.

“Hmm, cognitive delays,” you said, pretending to tap your chin thoughtfully. “Very worrying. Further evidence he wouldn’t be able to process the information, though. No, I think it’s best if we don’t meet.”

Bakugou pushed himself off the column, edging around Miruko as his mouth drew into a snarl. You were immediately reminded of the Hero Awards, that same overwhelming prickle of power edging over you as he stalked closer, the same scent like caramel and gunpowder.

Miruko’s eyes flicked between the two of you curiously, an eyebrow raised in interest. You hoped it meant she was interested enough in your data analysis to intervene if Bakugou tried to sauté you like an onion.

“If you melt through this blazer I really will sabotage the hero rankings and dip you all the way to number five hundred,” you threatened, edging away from Bakugou as he drew closer. “And also you owe me money for that dress.”

“I’m not gonna fucking give you shit,” he announced, looming over you when he’d decided he was close enough to intimidate. He was near enough that you could feel the heat of him, but he hadn’t put his hands to you yet. It seemed Miruko was enough of a deterrent to curb his bad behavior. “And I’m not gonna meet with you.”

“Good, then we agree,” you said, tipping your head back to look him in the eye. “You’re not good enough to do better anyways.”

Bakugou growled, the phrase clearly still enough to tick him off a year later. “Fuck you, I’m the best.”

“That’s not what your ranking tells me,” you clicked your tongue, feigning disinterest. With the dirt and scratches all over him he looked wilder than ever and you would be a fool to ignore it, but Miruko’s presence made you bold. And something else, some latent streak of frustration and pettiness told you to keep going, to keep pressing the buttons that were getting this reaction from him.

“Your ranking tells me you haven’t even improved the tiniest bit in an entire year. At this rate, you’ll never even hit the top three, never mind be the best. I don’t think you could improve even if you wanted to,” you said.

Bakugou looked like he wanted nothing more than to tear your head off with his teeth. “I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

You opened your mouth to reply but there was a sudden motion at the edge of your vision, something pink and blurry and wild. You glanced past Bakugou’s shoulder to find Ashido leaning around the wall, waving a hand frantically and mouthing something at you. You squinted, watching her lips shape themselves carefully: make a bet.

What? Make a bet?

She wanted you to make a bet?

You looked back up at Bakugou, taking in the oppositional expression, the angry curl of his mouth, the straight slope of his nose, and those keen, blood red eyes glaring down at you. This was certainly the face of a man who wouldn’t be told what to do, who couldn’t be told what to do.

But despite your words and your inherent distaste, there was no denying he was actually your best shot, the cleanest pathway to your promotion. Bakugou was smart, driven, and absolutely lethal. If anyone could turn around a rank at top speed it was him.

But he couldn’t be made to do it. He had to want to do it.

Ashido waved in the corner of your vision again, enunciating with exaggerated facial expressions. Make a bet.

Things clicked into place.

“Hmm, I wouldn’t be so sure,” you looked away from Ashido, inspecting your nails casually, like your focus would rather be anywhere than on this conversation. “In fact, I would bet almost anything that you wouldn’t know how to implement my suggestions, even if you tried.”

Bakugou froze, red eyes passing over you curiously. For one heart stopping moment, you thought he was on to you, but he just leaned down instead, putting his face close to yours.

“I’ll fucking take that bet.”

You tried to push down your sudden swell of excitement, fighting to keep your expression neutral. You knew he wouldn’t cooperate if he thought you were happy about this.

“Fine. You have two months to jump a rank,” you said. “Or I win. And you’ll pay me what you owe me for the dress.”

Bakugou smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. This had the effect of emphasizing both the tears in his shirt and the swell of his biceps.You quickly attached your eyes firmly to his face--that was so not what you needed to be focused on right now.

“I’ll do it in one,” he said. “And then I win, you smug fucking nerd.”

You gazed at him steadily. “Agreed. Miruko’s number seven--you think you can beat your own boss with just a month of work? You’ll never.”

“You haven’t heard what I win yet,” he said.

You stared at him, eyebrows drawing together in confusion. “You go up in rank. That’s what you win.”

Bakugou’s handsome face shifted into an uneven smirk. “Oh no. This is twice now you’ve opened your little know-it-all mouth and acted like you know what the fuck you’re talking about. When I win, you’ll tell me I’m the best and I was right all along.”

You suppressed an eye roll. If he moved up a rank, the point would very obviously be that you were right all along. Was he really so unreasonably competitive and spiteful that he needed to be told he was right?

Then you remembered he’d quite literally dragged you into a stairwell and implied he'd fry you to a crisp when he found out he was number eight. Of course he was.

Well, a few throwaway words were worth nothing compared to the promotion you’d be getting. He could have his sense of self satisfaction when you were knee deep in software engineers and fat stacks of money.

You took a deep breath, holding out a hand. “Okay. If you win, which is a very big if, then I’ll admit it. Deal?”

Bakugou considered you for a long moment, red eyes watching you closely, before a calloused hand engulfed yours. “Deal," he growled, a crooked grin flickering at the edge of his mouth. "Get ready to eat shit, nerd.”

You suppressed another eye roll, hoping to god this was going to be worth it.

This was going to be the longest month of your life.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha x reader #my hero academia #bnha #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou #tw threats #tw gendered violence

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hops-hunny · 3 years ago

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Just a Touch Away

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 4k

Request: Not necessarily?? A few people did ask for this though and who am I to deny you of that?

Summary: Part two of Just a Flight Away

Warnings: Sex, just sex. There’s fluff too, a good lil 50/50.

A/N: The fact that this is longer than the original makes me fucking laugh cause how tf did that even happen?? Hope I didn’t disappoint. I also got lazy half way through editing so only like the first 2k words are edited.

Neville was beyond ecstatic to be walking hand in hand with his girlfriend. It was better than anytime his mind would wander to it during the day and anytime it’d lull him to sleep at night. He looked down at her, watching as her eyes looked at everything in amazement. It reminded him of his first year at Hogwarts, wide eyed and full of curiosity of all there was to be explored. (Y/n) seemed to be soaking it all in as if she took even the smallest of blinks, everything would vanish before her eyes.

“It’s a pretty place, isn’t it?” He started off, catching the girl’s attention. She looked up at the tall lanky Gryffindor smiling at him. God he couldn’t believe that such a doll was his. This was his girlfriend.

“Yeah! It’s amazing! I love how tall the ceilings are and all the intricacies such as the carvings around the walls and floors, the big open windows, it’s all to die for!” She exclaimed, bouncing up and down a bit. How could one girl be so cute? Neville knew that if she asked, he’d do absolutely anything she wanted without a second thought. Anything she wanted and needed he would give to her at the drop of a hat.

“Yeah, that’s not even the most magical part. No matter where you go in the castle, you can find something new almost every time. Be it a hallway, room, whatever.” he stated, smiling as the girl gasped in amazement.

“We have to explore then some time while I’m here! However, today I wanna spend time with you doing you know,” she started, looking away as she was overcome with shyness, “Doing couple things.” Neville felt his heart swell at her words, trying his best not to drown her in all of his affection.

“Of course, petal. We can do whatever you want today! How bout I take you to Honeydukes and then we end the day off with the greenhouse? I know you wanted to see that first but trust me when I say it’s even more of a beauty during the evening than it is at this time.” He said, reaching down to push a bit of her hair out of her face. He laughed some as her eyes lit up at the mention of the sweets shop. When Neville and (Y/n) would send each other things, Neville would send her treats as much as possible. He had learned early on about the girl’s large sweet tooth and second stomach for dessert.

“That sounds amazing! You know how much I love treats!” she said, clapping her hands as she began to jump more. Neville looked at her fondly as he watched her fit of excitement but quickly stopped as he noticed her frown. “I don’t have the right currency to buy things yet though. I still only have dragots. That’s okay, we can j-”

“Did you really think I was going to make you pay, flower? What kind of man would I be to invite you out and not pay? I insist, shop to your heart's content today.” He said, reaching down to stroke her cheek. She leaned into his touch, smiling up at him.

“I love you, Nev.” she mumbled, closing her eyes in content from the warmth that radiated from his hand. Neville felt his breath hitch as he looked down at her, face flushing a bright red. It wasn’t the first time they had said it to each other. Sure, they ended their letters with it more often than not but to hear it from her voice? A voice that was so beautiful, so full of love, aimed towards him? She was making it really hard for him not to just have his way with her right then and there.

“Oh angel, I love you more. Come here.” He pulled her closer, bending down to rest his forehead on hers, smiling as he leaned in to kiss her. The (h/c) haired girl met him halfway, smiling into the kiss as she wrapped her arms around her neck. He continued to kiss her, deepening the kiss before remembering that they were quite literally in the middle of the hallway. He pulled away, placing a quick chaste kiss on her lips. Confusion took over (Y/n)’s face as she looked around them. In different parts of the hallway, a few guys were looking in their direction. “What is it, darling?” he questioned, grabbing her hand as he continued to walk. She simply dismissed his question, offering him a soft smile as he guided her towards the nearest castle exit. That’s when he started to hear it. It wasn’t loud, but it was loud enough for him to hear.

“God she’s a right fitty, isn’t she?”

“Yeah I mean look at the ass on her. She’s one of those Ilvermorny girls.”

“Could’ve fooled me. Looks straight outta Beauxbaton.”

“Longbottom’s a fool, I would’ve had my way with her as soon as she stepped out the train.”

Neville felt his jaw clench, trying to calm himself down. He had to get them out of here before (Y/n) heard, because if she had? Those guys would see exactly why he was put in Gryffindor in the first damn place. “Petal, do you want a piggyback ride? I know you mentioned wanting one in a few of your letters. Come on, hop on.” he said, bending down some so she could get on. (Y/n) felt her eyes light up at the idea. She took a large running start before jumping on the boy’s back, squealing as he lifted her up. Neville secured her on his back, biting his lip at the feeling of her plush thighs filtering between his fingers. They felt heavenly, he couldn’t help but let his thoughts wander to what they’d feel like wrapped around his- they had places to be. He didn’t want his precious girl to hear anything that those twits were saying about her so quickly he took off down the hallway, smiling as the girl laughed, tightening her arms around his neck.

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

(Y/n) gasped as her eyes zoomed in various places all around Honeydukes. It was unlike anything she had ever seen before. She ran to various different snacks, reading the packages of them. “Look Nev, look! These look sooo good. They’re strawberry flavored! I love strawberry.” she said, holding up the box of snack cakes in his face. Neville laughed at the girl’s enthusiasm for sweets.

“I’ve had those before. They’re quite good! I think you’ll enjoy them ‘specially since you like strawberry so much. Do you wanna get them?” he questioned. (Y/n) pondered, humming slightly before nodding, setting them in his hands. She wondered how he could contain himself, especially when there were so many sweets around! Who wouldn’t wanna buy practically the whole store?

As they walked around the store, (Y/n) would occasionally find something else that piqued her interest, ask Neville’s opinion on it, and then throw it in his arms. She did this numerous times until she realized how full his arms were. The tower of sweets and treats almost covered his face. However, she couldn’t help to admire how his arms flexed and tensed under his shirt only imagining how nice they’d feel-

“Are you done, petal? It’s okay if you’re not! You can get a few more things, I just wanna get back to the greenhouse before it gets too dark.” he explained, turning to the side so he could see her face.

“Yeah, I’m done! Are you sure this is okay? This is a lot of stuff Nev.” she questioned, biting the inside of her cheek guilty.

“Nonsense! Nothing is too much for you, flower. Let’s get going, I’ve got a few plants that I need to water in about,” he set the treats down on the counter before looking at his watch, “30 minutes. Perhaps you can help me?”

“I’d love to! You know that’s my favorite part of growing plants is the watering part. It’s almost like you can see them do a little happy dance when you do! Well, some of the more animated plants quite literally do but you get what I mean!” she rambled on, quickly latching onto his arm once more. Neville listened to her, grabbing the bags as they began to walk out of the door only for him to bump into Malfoy himself. Great.

“Ah I see, loneliness has stricken you again huh Longbottom? I don’t know what all those treats will do for that!” He snickered out, high fiving Crabbe and Goyle. Neville rolled his eyes, frankly quite done with the bloke. He didn’t give him that same sense of fear as when he was younger. In fact, now he found him to be quite annoying.

“Actually they aren’t for him, they’re mainly all for me! Neville’s personal pick is just this little box right here.” she said, holding up the small box before placing it back in the bag. (Y/n) had to stop herself from letting out an audible gag as the blonde’s eyes traveled up and down her frame.

“You must be Neville’s American cousin, right? I-”

“Didn’t ask. Come on babe, let’s go.” The small girl said, dragging her boyfriend along with her. Draco stood there in shock as the two walked off still in amazement in how Neville had such a hot American girlfriend already.

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

“Woah! I’ve read about this plant actually. Even had a small personal one of my own.” The (h/c) haired girl said, positioning the magnifying glass up and down around the leaves to view it better. Neville whipped his head towards her in excitement.

“Really? Wait, had?” he asked, watching as the girl shrugged sheepishly.

“Yeah, turns out it wasn’t really suited for the climate in America. Such a shame though! She was a real beauty.” She said, still not looking up at the plant. Neville smiled at her fondly, walking closer to her as he stood behind her.

“Yeah, she is.” he muttered, wrapping his arms around her waist as he turned her around.

“Something tells me we’re no longer discussing plants.” she joked, wrapping an arm around his neck as she brought the other to stroke his cheek. He leaned down hovering his lips above hers.

“I’m afraid we aren’t.” he closed the gap between them, kissing her with all the anger, all the passion that had built up over the day. He was tired of it, tired of men speaking about her like he wasn’t right fucking there. Obviously that wasn’t his sweet flower’s fault but god was he furious. He took one of his hands, trailing it from her waist to the underside of her skirt. With one hand he flipped it up and with the other he began to grip and prod at one of her cheeks harshly. He trailed his free hand up to her jaw, holding it tightly as he pulled away from the kiss leaving a trail of saliva in its path. “Do you want to-”

“Yes.” she cut him off, taking one of his hands and leading it under her shirt. He moved his large freckled hand up her torso until he reached her breast. His eyes widened as he felt the lack of bra.

“You little minx.” he sneered, gripping her ass in both of his hands as he sat her on top of the working table. He pushed her shirt above her breast, watching as her nipples began to harden from the cool air. Neville got on his knees pulling the girl to the edge of the table. He couldn’t help but pause and admire how beautiful she was. The setting sun reflected off of her sweaty (s/c) skin making it appear as if she was glowing. The shadows and light hit the parts of her soaking panties, revealing just how wet her cunny was. Neville let out an audible groan at the sight, adjusting his tightening pants. “God you’re bloody gorgeous. Look at you baby, all soaked just for me?” He ran a finger over her cloth covered slick, smirking as the girl jumped a bit letting out a soft whimper. “Let me treat you, yeah?” he whispered against her clothed cunt before ripping her panties down and stuffing them in her back pocket (He certainly was not giving those back).

His eyes were glued to the sight in front of him. It was more beautiful than any photograph that she had sent. No matter how many times she had written to him about how wet she was, nothing could prepare him for the true extent to what it was. The entirety of her pussy was covered in slick, running down her folds and now onto the table. He watched as her pretty little hole clenched and unclenched around nothing practically begging to be filled. But he couldn’t just yet, he had to do what he had been dreaming of for years. He moved a steady hand forward rubbing her clit in circular motions before licking a fat strip across her slit as he began to suck on her clit. (Y/n) gasped, bringing a shaky hand down to his head pushing him in forward and, who was Neville to deny her? Sure, Neville lacked experience severely. They both did. But he’d be damned if he came up from between her legs without giving her an orgasm first.

Neville took his middle finger, gathering a bit of her juices on it before slowly sinking it inside of her. He began to pump it in and out, making sure to be gentle and slow while maintaining a steady pace. (Y/n) threw her head back, letting out a cross between a whimper and a moan. It wasn’t like she hadn’t pleasured herself before, she had...numerous times. Sometimes even multiple times a day. But god his fingers? They were so much thicker than hers, so much longer touching and hitting spots she didn’t know were possible. “A-another please.” she whimpered, bucking her hips onto his face. Neville looked up at her, humming around her clit in agreement before he slid in another digit into her tight hole. He felt his dick strain against his pants more at the sound of her moans but he could ignore it. This wasn’t about him right now, it was all about him pleasuring his perfect girl.

“Do you like that, pretty? Hm? Like when I get my fingers covered in you.” He muttered against her, groaning as she clenched around his fingers. He drove them deeper keeping with his slow pace. Neville didn’t want to rush this, he wanted to appreciate the girl who he loved, the girl who kept him up late into the night as he stroked one out. He knew they would share many intimate moments in the months to come but he definitely wanted their first to be the most memorable.

He continued to lick and suck on her bud, pulling away every so often to lick at the stray juices that ran down her folds. “Just one more, pretty. I’ve gotta make sure you’re nice and stretched out for me.” she nodded lazily at his words, feeling herself growing closer and closer by the second. (Y/n) was in such a state of euphoria, never wanting it to end. She let out another strangled moan as Neville slid in a third finger, scissoring them a bit before beginning to make a come hither motion within her. The tips of his fingers rubbed against her spot sending her into a fit of nonsense phrases and words, the most recognizable of them being “please, please. Yes, yes, yes!” which only encouraged him further. With more force he repeatedly began to jab at her g-spot growling as the girl came apart above him. (Y/n) gasped, falling back onto the table as her body grew tense, releasing all over Neville fingers. She continued to moan as her arousal slipped past his fingers running down the table as the boy fingered her through her high. Neville pulled his fingers out, stretching them apart as he stared at the arousal that was connected between the spaces. He stuck his fingers in his mouth, letting out a soft moan at her taste. Just as sweet as he had pictured it.

After a few moments of heavy panting, (Y/n) felt a bit better and decided to sit up. Her (e/c) eyes trailed down her lover’s body as they reached the bulge in his pants. ‘If it’s that big through his pants, I don’t even want to imagine how big it is out of them!’ she found herself thinking. No wonder he had used three fingers, she wasn’t even sure that that was enough. She reached both her hands out, beginning to unfasten his belt pulling down his pants before freeing his member. She held back a gasp as she watched it slap up against his lower abdomen. Neville’s cock was a shade darker than him, it had no curve to it but it didn’t matter. He made up for a lack of curve with the sheer girth of his cock alongside the length (which was most definitely half of her forearm, if not more). She took a deep breath before hopping off of the table and kneeling before him.

“What’re you doing, love?” he asked, reaching a hand down to stroke her cheek.

“Returning the favor?” she replied as she reached a hand forward to grasp him. She looked at him confused as he lifted her back up, setting her back on top of the table.

“You can do that some other time. Right now is about pleasuring you.” he said, moving his lips to her neck as he began to suck and kiss along it leaving a trail of marks in its wake.

“A-are you sure? What about you? I’d feel bad that I’m not pleasing you in return.” a soft frown took over her face. Neville grabbed her face softly, tilting it towards his own.

“Oh darling, taking care of you brings me a greater pleasure than anything you could give me. Tonight is about you so let me just take care of you, yeah?” he asked, looking into her eyes full of love and a deep amount of arousal. She sat there unsure before nodding, leaning up to capture his lips. Neville returned the kiss, trailing the hand that was against her face to wrap gently around her neck. He pulled away, tugging her lip with him. “I’m gonna put it in now. Are you ready?” he asked, lubing himself up with the reminisce of her first orgasm.

“Please be gentle.” she whispered, hiding her face in his neck as he pushed his tip against her entrance.

“‘Course love. I’ll do my best.” he placed a kiss on the top of her head before beginning to sink into her. He let out a hiss at the tight heat of her velvety walls. When he was in enough, he brought both his hands up to embrace her, whispering soft phrases of encouragement as he slid into her tight hole. He couldn’t help but feel guilty at the sound of her whimpers and cries, feeling awful that he was the cause of it. After what felt like ages, his pelvic region finally met with her mound. He pulled back gazing at the sight as he let out a soft moan.

“Y-you can move now. Feels good.” she stuttered out, gasping as he pulled out some. Neville thrusted into her deeply to test the waters, watching her facial expressions. He felt himself grow relieved when he saw how deep in pleasure she was. Her eyes were clenched shut, chest rising and falling quickly. He took that as a sign to continue, thrusting into her deep and slow. He gripped her hips tightly, deepening the intensity of his thrusts. The boy was absolutely enamored. How could she be so cute in such a filthy state? Tongue lulled out the side of her mouth, hair tousled messily as sweat covered her delicate skin. Seeing her in such bliss only fueled his need to please her, to see her come undone beneath him. He continued to pound into her, every thrust filled with passion.

“You’re so fucking pretty, angel,” he growled out leaning down to capture her breast in his mouth. He swirled his tongue around her nipple, nibbling softly before pulling away and doing the same to the other one. (Y/n) continued to let out a string of moans, tightening her grip on the Gryffindor's back. She couldn’t help but dig her fingers into the flesh of his back, trying to ground herself as her lower region received immense amounts of pleasure. She let out a cry of gratification as he began to rub at her clit with circular motions, digging her heels into his lower back. “God just look at you. You feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock. Who’s making you feel this good?”

“Y-you Nev! S-so good. It’s so deep, so big.” she whimpered as she began to feel hot tears form in her eyes. “Love you so much, I love you!” she sobbed, resting her head on her chest. It was all too much, too good for her to handle. Neville cooed at her adoringly continuing to thrust into her. “C-close….”

“Hold it for just one second of love. Let’s cum together.” He grunted. After a few moments, he felt a familiar pit in his stomach signaling his release. His thrust began to grow sloppy, hips stuttering but as he went to pull out, the girl stopped him.

“Please don’t. I’m on birth control. Want you to cum inside of me, want you to fill me up.” Neville gripped at her hips harder, pistoning them with an animalistic amount of pace. The moans of them both echoed off the greenhouse walls as they both released, collapsing against one another. (Y/n) shuddered, whimpering at the feeling of his thick seed spilling inside of her. It seemed nonstop, pouring and pouring deeper inside of her, dribbling out past him and onto the table.

Neville let out a breathless chuckle at the sight, feeling a sense of pride at the fact that it was his seed dripping out of her. No one else. Not Malfoy, not his idiot friends, and certainly not those morons from in the hallway earlier. He stroked her skin gentle, watching as she shuddered at his touch. “Sorry love, it seems I left quite the mark on your neck.” he mumbled, brushing his fingertips along the healing mark he had left. It was a big purple hickey, the same shade as the bruises on her hips.

“S’okay. I’ll have something that reminds me of you. I think I accidentally gave you one too when I came. I couldn’t help myself.” Neville viewed his reflection in the small hanging mirror across the room. Moving his long shaggy hair to the side, he saw a small reddish bruise, the indent from her teeth still visible.

“It’s a shame that I didn’t get to show you the rest of the plants you wanted.” he frowned. He had totally forgotten that was the entire reason they had come to the greenhouse today. Neville wanted his girl’s first day at Hogwarts to be absolutely perfect in every way and he had ruined it in his own fit of selfish greed.

“Are you kidding me?” she asked, sitting up. She winced slightly but continued on. “This was way better than any sort of plant! Nothing says ‘welcome to Hogwarts’ like what we just had.” Neville let out a breath that he wasn’t even aware he had been holding.

Even though this was the first day of them meeting in person, he knew this was the girl for him. As the sun set and they both held each other in their arms, the pair couldn’t help but wonder what was in store for them. What adventures lie ahead? Only time could tell. But luckily they didn’t have to spend another minute apart. (Y/n) was no longer just a flight away, but a mere inches apart.

#Neville Longbottom #neville x reader #neville longbottom x you #neville x you #neville longbottom x reader #Harry Potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines

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space-mermaid-writing · 3 years ago

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House Arrest [Loki X Reader] Chapter 1

Summary: You are Clint’s 'little' sister and actually a trained Shield agent. But you gave that up a few years ago and became a Chef, because you wanted a normal live. Then one day Natasha shows up at your door and takes you to the Avenger Tower for a while for security reasons.

Tags: Reader is an former Shield Agent, chef!reader, Reader Barton, 2012 Avenger vibes, everything is still alright, Slice of Life, Avengers Family, Loki has a good heart, still the god of mischief, Slow Burn, mention of food and cooking

Read it on AO3

Chapter 1: New Home

It's just before midnight when you finally get off work. You really like your job, but the hours are murder. Being a chef at one of the most expensive five-star restaurants in Philadelphia has its price. You take off your apron, which has hardly any stains from the last few hours on it, and throw it in the wash. The white jacket goes neatly into your locker and is replaced by a cardigan and a scarf. It’s a cool night. With a last good bye to your colleagues, who are still putting the dishes into the dishwashers, you make your way home.

The night is dark, but the streets are lit by lanterns and the windows of closed stores. Even if it had been pitch black, it wouldn't have worried you to have to walk alone through the empty alleys. Last year a guy had tried to rob you and threatened you with a knife. You had given him a broken nose and several stab wounds in the shoulder. After all, you had been trained at Shield. But the poor guy didn’t know that.

Half an hour later you arrive at your apartment. It's more functional than nicely furnished, and everything is a bit of a pick 'n' mix. But you don't mind it, because you spend most of your time at work anyway. At home you don't feel such great importance to culinary variety when it comes to your own food. A pizza or French fries with ketchup were always welcome. After all, you've been standing at the stove long enough at work. Tired, you decide to wait until breakfast for your next meal and, after a quick change of clothes, just fall into bed.

Fortunately, the next day is your day off. You make good use of it and sleep in. Afterwards you have an nice brunch with eggs, bacon and toast and after a short shower you go into town to do some errands. The sun is shining warmly from the sky and it's a beautiful spring day. If this holds up until the weekend, maybe you'd visit the weekly market and see what exotic and rare foods you can grab there. You love these little trips, even if you rarely find the time.

About two hours later and with three full shopping bags, you re-enter your apartment. It's on the second floor of a rather nondescript building, but the interior is very modern, with pastel-colored, high walls. You put everything in the kitchen cabinets and then brew yourself a tea/coffee, with which you make yourself comfortable on the couch and turn on the TV. It's time to relax a little. So you zap through the programs, watch the rest of an episode of your favorite series and then decide to watch a reality series, which is not exactly known for its quality but is entertaining. So the noon goes by until suddenly the doorbell rings. You get up to see if it's the mailman or a neighbor with a package. But a look through the peephole shows you that it is neither. Surprised, you open the door "Nat!" Natasha Romanoff is a friend of you and your brother, as well as the godmother of his children. But due to her job you rarely see each other. "Hey," she greets you with a small smile. "Can I come in?" "Sure." You lead her into the living room, where you turn off the TV. "What can I get you? Tea, coffee, milkshake?" "Coffee is fine." You disappear into the kitchen for a moment as she sits down in the armchair. Natasha was a rare visitor. Mostly she came with some news from Clint. You see him even less because he spends what little free time he has mostly with his wife and the two kids. Understandable. You don't hold it against him and try to visit them on holidays or for birthdays at her farm.

It doesn't take long until you return to the Russian woman with a new cup and some pastries and sit down on the couch again. "Well," you ask her curiously. "What do I owe the pleasure?" Natasha reaches for her cup. "It’s rather inconvenience. But first tell me if you’ve observed anything unusual lately." Questioningly, you look at her. "What do you mean?" "Nothing weird? You sure?", she asks. "Tell me what I'm supposed to have seen, please," you prompt her, both impatient and confused. Natasha gets right to the point. "You're being monitored." "By Shield?" "By Hydra." Stunned by this news, you remain silent. Natasha uses this pause to drink her coffee. "Oh, this is really good." But you don't listen to her at all, because various thoughts are circling in your head. And again you try to remember if you have noticed anything: same people you met, vehicles, anything. But you got pretty used to your life and didn't pay attention at these things. "Anyway, I'm here to pick you up. For your own safety it’s best if you stay with us for a while," Natasha finally breaks the silence and you look up. "What could Hydra possibly want from me? I don't know any internal secrets anymore. There are better to kidnap than me." "That's what we're trying to figure out right now." "Well, the danger doesn't seem to be acute", you note. "If they wanted to grab me, I wouldn't be sitting here by now. Thanks, but I decline and prefer to stay here. I have my job and the apartment." And now that you know what's going on, you can pay attention and take the necessary precautions, too. "Thanks for warning me." Natasha, on the other hand, doesn't look like she gives you a choice. "You know Shield has its ways to convince you?", she reminds you, but you shrug. Why would such a large organization bother with a single civilian like you? "What does my dear brother say about this matter?", you ask instead. "He hasn't been informed yet." Ergo, they deliberately leave him out of it so that he can't protest. You know this kind of approach of Shield.

Clint understands and supports you in your civilian life, even though he protested the loudest back when you announced your exit. "How’s he?", you want to know from Natasha, who is now finishing her coffee. "He's alive." That can mean just about anything from being happy and healthy to badly hurt but breathing. Better than being dead, you guess. "He's out in Africa with Steve right now." "Busy, huh?" "As usual." She stands up as a sign that she has nothing more to say for the day, and you walk her to the door, where you bid her farewell. "We'll talk again soon," she promises, but admittedly you have little desire to do so right now. "Sure," you reply and close the door behind her.

Well, that were some news. You put her empty cup in the sink and pause thoughtfully by the window. How could you have missed Hydra's agent, you ask yourself while glancing out. Your new life made you too comfortable. But it also takes up a lot of time and energy. And anyway, you dropped out because you didn't want to be cautiousness all the time anymore. You wanted a normal life with a normal job and normal problems. Away from agents, assassinations and super powers. You didn't want to check every day on your way to work if you were being followed, secretly monitored or if someone else was out to get you. That's why you’ve chosen this life. With a sigh, you sit back down on the couch. The past never leaves you alone, you guess. But tomorrow would be a long day even without these new old worries.

The advantage of being a chef is usually that you don't have to get up at the crack of dawn for work. Most Restaurants open at noon, some even in the evening. So does the one where you work. There are preparations to be made before opening time, but you can still sleep through the morning, do some housework, and then head to the restaurant in the sunny afternoon. That's where the trouble starts, though. Just as you're about to open your locker to change your clothes, someone taps you on the shoulder. It's your boss, who hands you a letter. You can tell immediately from his serious expression that something is wrong. And when you open the envelope, you discover your resignation. You look up, perplexed, but you lose out in the following discussion. You don't even get a decent explanation, and that’s what annoys you the most. You're pretty sure your skills aren’t the issue, neither is the way you work. Nor the way you treat your colleagues, with whom you get along very well, even if the tone among cooks is a bit rough. You go back to your apartment, now in a bad mood. It‘s unbelievable! The sunny weather seems like a mockery to you now, and the people you meet along the way are in far too good a mood, in your opinion. It will be hell to find another good job as this was.

Arriving back home you immediately get more bad news: your landlord put a notice on your apartment door. The bathrooms in the building will get completely renovated soon and will be unusable for several weeks. Plus the heavy construction noise during the day. And the water would be turned off. It would be best to find temporary substitute apartment, so they recommend. "Haha...ha..." You laugh dryly and unlock the door. Was that a coincidence? When Natasha had been here yesterday? Probably not. You know Shield's methods and that it’s easy for them to take away your job and your apartment just to get their way. You have two options: either you accept the offer before Shield gets any more stupid ideas, or you run away and try to hide. With a sigh you go into your bedroom and throw a suitcase on the bed, in which you pack clothes, the most important documents and some things from the kitchen you need for work. Not everything fits, so you add a second travel bag. Meanwhile, you think about who you could complain to. Your brother was a favorite target of yours, but he a) had nothing to do with this matter and b) was not in the country. Which’s a shame, because you'd really like to have him by your side right now. If you wanted to complain to Shield directly, Fury would probably be the best person to do it. But you hold too much respect for him to vent your anger to him. Maybe just the next Shield agent who would come to you on this matter would have to step in. You know someone would definitely get back to you. With one last look around your apartment, you leave it and lock the door. Then you shoulder your bag and make your way out.

Just as you're thinking about getting a large coffee from Starbucks down the street, a red sports car pulls up to the side of the road. Natasha at the wheel. "Hmph..." You walk over to her and throw your luggage in the back seat. Then you take a seat in the passenger seat yourself. "Just for the record, I'm not happy with this." "I can see that." She tries to give a sympathetic smile, but you know this is just a job to her. "Well then, off to the Bat Cave, Wayne." "Does that make you Robin?", the Russian asks, driving off. "I guess", you reply snippy, not interested in keeping the conversation going. Fortunately, Natasha wasn't exactly the talkative sort either, so you have some peace and quiet to get your thoughts in order.

It takes you just under two hours to drive from Philadelphia to New York with city traffic slowing you down a bit. Otherwise, you would have arrived earlier at the former Stark Tower. It's been the Avenger Tower for some time now, but that doesn't make much difference, except that Tony Stark seems to be too lazy to put the remaining letters back on it.

Natasha parks in the private underground garage and you take the elevator up to the grand lobby. She tells you about the current residents here. There’s the usual staff, who are of course always present. Of all the Avengers, Bruce Banner is living here permanently. "He actually hardly ever leaves the lab," the Russian explains. "I'm currently living here, too. Every now and then Thor stops by, but mostly he prefers to explore the world. And his brother Loki is here. There have been some...problems with him and he's sort of under supervision here. Tony trusts technology more than Asgard. The owner of the house, by the way, is out visiting an outpost right now." "There are even Avengers outposts?" Natasha nods as she walks you down the halls to the living area. "But don't tell Hydra." "Sure", you promise unfazed. "Speaking of which, if I want to go out to visit someone, do I need a key or how does this work?" "It's better if you stay here in the house for now. It's for your safety, after all." "For how long?", you want to know. The answer is short. "As long as necessary." "So I'm sort of locked in here”, you state. That's typical Shield. As soon as there's any problem, an agent is sent in to put everything in solitary arrest or quarantine. As long as it’s shielded from the rest of the world. Natasha stops in front of a door that is now yours, but doesn't look directly at you, which as much of an answer as you get. "I'll be fine on my own now, thanks," you smile politely but not genuinely at her, and after she assures you that you're free to move around inside the building, you head off with your luggage in your new apartment.

#Loki #Loki x Reader #House Arrest #Chapter 1 #my writing #Clint #clint barton #hawkeye #loki laufeyson #imagine #chef reader #mcu #marvel

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slytherinsnekxvii · 4 years ago

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this isn't my best work, but it's still pretty good for something i wrote when i was 15 after having a half a year of writer's block. anyways, ahem, presenting the fic in which severus says fuck it after the lake incident and just doesn't go back to hogwarts but potentially gets dragged into the war anyway despite living in the muggle world for like,, three years, part 1 (aka the only chapter i wrote bc my writer's block came back oops):

It starts simply, like most things do. It starts with a few words, tossed out without care and full of childish conviction. It escalates to brawls in the corridors and duels in the dungeons--if you could even call them that when it was four-on-one and most encounters left him reeling. It continues until he's twitchy and hypervigilant and awkward, always on the lookout for an attack, ready to bite before anyone could bite him.

It ends much the same. The events leading up to this are a production fit for the theatre, if the crowd is anything to by, but the ending itself is quite simple. Gasping for air near the shore of the Black Lake and battling a headache that hurts almost as much as the sharp press of his heart at the thought of what he'd done to Lily, he simply gives up. He picks himself up, tells himself this is the end of it and goes about collecting his belongings.

His wand comes to his hand easily enough with a mumbled Accio. His bag does, as well. Its contents, on the other hand, have to be collected by hand. His textbooks and ink are strewn beneath the tree, mostly, but the loose parchment and his quill are lost to the wind. He snatches up what he can find before someone gets it into their head to come further humiliate him and turns to head back into into the castle. Only to be smacked in the face by a bound sheaf of parchment and a quill. It's suspicious, and he's tempted to burn it then and there. It's his, but they were definitely scattered about the grounds two seconds ago. He doesn't burn it. He hesitates, puts it in his bag and returns to the castle, intent on making his way to Gryffindor Tower.

The apology doesn't go well. Lily isn't interested, refuses to hear it. He returns to the Slytherin dorms, drops into his bed and thanks Merlin that they'll be going home soon. Cokeworth is God-awful, but at least there's only one man trying to kill him there and only one woman for him to disappoint.

So, he waits it out. Spends his final classes looking over his shoulder and staring blankly at his parchment every time he remembers that they tried to kill him and they humiliated him and they got away with both. He shrinks into himself, avoiding the corridors at all costs, skipping meals to avoid being in the Great Hall and spends as much time as possible in the Library and the dusty old Potions Lab on the Fourth Floor that no one knows about, losing himself in research so he doesn't have to interact with his Housemates. He sits alone at the Leaving Feast, refuses to touch his plate until Evan Rosier falls into the seat next to him and bothers him into eating. The Headmaster dismisses them, says that they'll see each other come September and lets them filter out onto the train.

He ends up sharing a compartment with Mulciber, Avery and Rosier even though he's barely spoken to any of them since the incident. Evan needles him about everything and nothing the whole way to King's Cross, and when they get there, Evan claps him on shoulder and that's goodbye.

He gathers up his things, goes to meet his mother so they can Apparate home and not waste what little money they have on transport. Eileen's cheeks are sunken, her arms rail thin, her dress loose-fitting. He'd still rather see her than anyone even loosely affiliated with Hogwarts. She nods at him, he nods back. They go home.

He spends his summer making himself useful. He does odd jobs for the neighbours, is grudgingly polite to his father, takes care of his mother. By the time term rolls around, people are talking about that Snape boy. Strange, and quiet, too, but he works well, doesn't he? September first dawns bright and early, and Severus doesn't go back to Hogwarts.

He studies at home instead, nose buried in his mum's old books. He plants the few ingredients he has hidden away in his trunk at the back of the house and uses what grows to brew medicines and weedkillers and anything he can think of after experimenting a bit. Mr. and Mrs. Smith down the street both swear up and down he's working magic on their little garden and their old bones.

He feeds cats, delivers packages for the grocer, takes tables and nightstands home to cast Reparo on. Someone tells the pub owner about him, and the next thing he knows, he's frying chips and learning how to mix drinks even though the most complicated thing anyone ever orders is a pint of the beer that they have on tap.

It's not a bad existence. Eventually, slowly, his mother starts coming back to herself. She takes over the brewing when he isn't around. Annotates his annotations and even makes a trip to Diagon Alley for more ingredients to add to their garden when Severus forgets to write Narcissa to ask her to send a few more.

Severus is old enough now to drag his father home from the pub behind him when he's done working. One evening, they come home and Tobias nearly trips over the end table that Severus is meant to be fixing for Mr. Williams three houses up. Severus works his wand out of his boot and goes to cast a spell, but Tobias grumbles and bats his hand away. Drunk as he is, he still digs out his toolbox and gets to work. The job turns out almost decent.

By December, Severus is at the pub, feeding cats on his break and making deliveries when he has the time. Eileen is brewing and Tobias is doing carpenter's work fixing and building wardrobes, cupboards, cabinets and everything else. It keeps him busy enough that some days he doesn't see a drink at all. It's not much, but there's a little food on the table at the end of each day, and Severus thinks that he's probably better off than he would have been at Hogwarts.

Sometime around Christmas, his mother talks him into getting a Muggle education and writing his NEWTs. He writes the O-Levels for his Muggle exams in January. They're a breeze, given how well-read he is. He sees Petunia at the store shortly after, and she sneers vaguely in his direction. He hears her condescending voice in the back of his head and decides to sit the A-Levels in May out of spite.

His birthday comes and goes, the NEWTs come right after and he aces each and every one of the written exams. The practicals are spread out across the following weeks, and he's leaving the Ministry after his last exam to find that the date coincides with that of a field trip for the Sixth Years at Hogwarts.

He watches them a little, tearing his gaze away after he catches sight of a tanned arm draped over a shoulder touched by a red braid. The students mill near the doors for a while and so, Severus looks around for escape routes, eyes skipping hurriedly from door to door until they rest on a Ravenclaw who'd also taken the January NEWTs. All kinds of people had been there, adults who hadn't passed when they were younger and needed to retake the exams to get jobs, teenagers who had family fortunes waiting for them whose parents wanted them to at least look like they were competent, and overachievers--like Severus assumed the Ravenclaw was--who wanted to know where they stood before the actual exam. He jerks his chin toward another door, this one proclaiming to lead to the "Apparition Division". Severus nods once at him and makes his way toward it.

There's a one-day course for Apparition, apparently. The woman at the receptionist desk doesn't even bother looking at him, just points him in the direction of the Training Room with her nail file. He stays for nearly the rest of the day, until they're finally done. He gets his license and is quietly pleased to see that the building is nearly devoid of life when he leaves. He goes home.

May and June come around and bring with them the A-Levels. He finds them only marginally more challenging than his O-Levels and returns to his routine. It's a nice routine, which takes him all the way through to July of the next year when Lily starts coming in with Black and Potter and Pettigrew and Lupin. The first time it happens, he leaves the counter so fast that the patron he'd just given a glass of water to is convinced he teleported. He's already taken his regular break to go feed Mrs. Jones' cats, so he steps into the kitchen and tells Jimmy he's taking a smoke break. Jimmy snorts and reminds him that he doesn't smoke.

He fidgets, trying to think up a way to avoid going back out, when the ruckus they're making makes Jimmy look through the little window and see the lot of them crowded around a little table. He gets a peculiar look on face for a bit, before he asks Severus if they have something to do with why he doesn't go to his fancy school anymore. He doesn't need an answer, just tells him to keep an eye on the food and steps out to man the counter. Severus stays late, frying chips and washing dishes until the early hours of the morning when Jimmy pats him on the back and kicks him out.

It keeps up until September comes around, and by then, Severus has taken so many smoke breaks that he's actually started smoking. He keeps smoking long after they're gone.

He goes back to his routine until it's broken again by a letter that comes by owl. It's a short letter, coming from a Potions Master whose apprentice had been overseeing the exams. It claims that his work was the best either of them had seen in years and after asking around, they'd found that he was unbound to any Master and was highly recommended by the Malfoys. It ends with an offer. Severus would think himself foolish not to accept, so, he does. After that, two days a week are dedicated to Flooing to Master Diogene's laboratory to fulfil the requirements of his apprenticeship. It finds its own little nook in his routine and so he continues until June of 1980.

He's preparing to go to the pub when there's a knock at the door. It's not so uncommon anymore, so he thinks nothing of it, only that he hopes it doesn't take too long. His shift starts in half an hour. He pushes his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, where they perpetually are these days, and decides he'll roll them up properly later. He opens the door.

"Good afternoon," a very pregnant Lily says, and standing next to her is the Ravenclaw from the Ministry, back straight, arms clasped behind his back, his entire being alert.

"Good afternoon," he replies, awkward. After a long moment of silence, he asks, "Can I help you?"

"Depends on whether or not you let us in," she says.

Wordlessly, he steps aside, sliding the three pairs of shoes nearer to the wall in order to let them pass. "Do you want tea?"

"No," she says, at the exact same time her Auror friend says, "Thank you."

He gestures them into the little kitchen, where they sit at the little table where he and his mother and his father take their meals. He tugs his wand out of his boot, flicks it so that the cauldron bubbling away on the stove scoots aside but doesn't spill. The burner beneath lights on its own. He puts the kettle, already full, on to boil. "So," he begins, absentmindedly rolling up his sleeves. "Is there something you need from me?"

Lily smiles, strained. "Can't I just visit an old friend?"

"Sure," he says, quietly. "You made it very clear that you would prefer if we weren't, though."

Her expression twists. "And with good reason," she grits.

He says nothing. The kettle whistles. He searches for the boxes of tea, sets about mixing two cups of mint. He puts them both on a tray with milk and sugar, as well as the small container of honey kept for special occasions. He puts it on the table.

"I'm sorry."

She doesn't say anything, just watches him with bright, green eyes aflame with old anger. She picks up one of the teacups and starts doctoring it to her liking. Her Auror friend follows suit. It really is obvious, Severus thinks, watching the man scan the room from top to bottom, corner to corner. He sighs. "Why are you here, Lily?"

She glares at her tea. The Auror shifts uncomfortably. Severus sighs again. "You know, when people visit old friends, they usually don't bring Aurors with them."

"Trainee, actually. This is my last year." He grins sheepishly. "That obvious?"

Severus nods.

He leans over the table, stretches out a hand. His right, Severus notices. He leans over and shakes with his left.

"Kingsley Shacklebolt," the Auror trainee introduces himself.

"Severus Snape, but you already knew that."

"Ah, yes. Of course."

Lily continues to glare at her tea. Shacklebolt fidgets. Severus stares, adjusts the heat on the burner below the cauldron. Silence prevails. The door creaks open, just then, and Eileen comes in, stirring rod in hand. "You'll be late if--oh," she says, noticing their guests. "Good afternoon."

"Good afternoon," the other three respond with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

"Well, if it isn't Lily Evans. It's been quite a while, hasn't it? You look well," Eileen says, nudging her son out of the way so she can poke at the mixture in the cauldron.

"You as well," Lily mumbles. "And it's, ah, it's Potter now, actually. Lily Evans Potter."

"Ah, I see. My mistake. Congratulations are in order, then, Mrs. Potter."

"Congratulations," Severus echoes.

"And you're a Shacklebolt, yes?" Eileen continues, her hands methodically sprinkling ground lavender into the cauldron. "Elodie's son, I should think. You resemble her quite a bit."

"Yes, ma'am," the trainee replies. "Grandmother says I'm nearly a carbon copy."

Eileen hums, lowers the heat under the cauldron. She takes out the stirring rod, examining the clinging lavender paste before wiping it off and placing it on the counter. "I suppose I'll leave you it, though Doris just passed, and she said that Jimmy has a full house, so, do try to hurry. It's already nearly four."

"Yes, Mam."

She leaves, and once more, silence settles over the small kitchen. Severus looks at the clock on the wall, sees that it does, indeed, say that it's minutes to four. Eleven minutes, to be exact, and it's a ten minute walk to the pub. He starts gathering the tea things, has just taken Shacklebolt's empty teacup when Lily clears her throat.

"Are you a Death Eater?" she asks.

"No," Severus tells her, and takes her teacup. Ten minutes to four.

"Prove it," she says, glaring.

Severus sets down the tray and leans across the table, arms outstretched, palms up, forearms exposed. The skin on either arm is pale, smooth and utterly unmarked, save and except for the scars one is bound to get when their preferred work involves knives and hot cauldrons.

"You keep regular contact with Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy, as well as Regulus Black and Evan Rosier, all of whom are suspected Death Eaters. Why?"

Severus' eyes narrow. "Lucius is sponsoring my Potions Mastery. Narcissa, for whatever reason, enjoys my conversation. Regulus and Evan both seem to think that I'll drop dead if I don't speak to them at least once a week and I haven't been able to disabuse them of the notion--though, not for lack of trying."

"So, you aren't planning to become a Death Eater?" Seven minutes to four.

"I'm not," Severus says, biting down on something rising in his chest. He returns the tea things to their proper places, washes the cups and sets them to dry. When he looks at them again, Lily's glare has softened into an unwavering stare.

"Are you certain?" she asks, and Severus grits his teeth.

"Oh, no, not at all. I only left the Wizarding World to live in a Muggle neighbourhood with my Muggle father, work for a Muggle and feed old ladies' cats and fix their husbands' cabinets because I thought it would make it easier for me when I decided I wanted to murder them all. Obviously," he snaps, throat closing around the words as soon they've been forced out of his mouth. His jaw clamps shut. Three minutes to four.

"You're being an a—" she starts, but then she bites her tongue. "Why... why did you leave?"

He stands silent for a moment. "Reasons I don't believe we have time to discuss. It appears that I'm late for work, I'm afraid." The clock reads three fifty-nine. By the time, he reaches the front door, it will be four o' clock. He starts walking.

"But–" Lily begins, standing.

He gestures them onto the porch while he shoves his feet into his boots. "Terribly sorry to leave in a hurry like this, but duty calls. Things to do, people to see. Enjoy your evening, Mrs. Potter. Auror Trainee Shacklebolt." Four o' clock.

"Really–"

"Until next time, Mr. Snape," Shacklebolt interjects, and with a stiff nod, he and Lily make their way towards the Apparition Point they'd used and Severus is walking down the street. He exhales, slowly, carefully at the quiet, telltale crack of Disapparition off in the distance. He picks up the pace and hopes that'll be the end of it. He knows it won't, though. Until next time, Shacklebolt said.

It isn't the end, of course. It never is. There's a knock at the door just before he's ready to leave the next afternoon, and he contemplates just not answering the door and staying at home for the foreseeable future. There's enough food to last at least a week, and he could always just tell Mrs. Havisham that he wasn't feeling well. The news would make it around the town and back within the day. The knock sounds again. He sighs and gets up to go answer it. "Can I help you?"

"Only if you want to. May I come in?" Shacklebolt asks.

Against his better judgement, Severus lets him in.

#severus snape #snapedom #pro snape #fic #i didn't expect anyone to take me seriosuly but someone did and goddamn it i'll be damned if i don't give them something to read #anyways have fun #probably a bit ooc #but that's what makes aus fun amirite hehe #alright that's enough from me

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unmaskedagain · 5 years ago

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Spider Vs Bird

I worked a long time on this fic. I really liked working on it though and I hope you enjoy it

Peter met Marinette when they were six-years-old. She had been sent to camp in New York. She had been scared to be so far away from home, and while fluent in English spoke with a heavy accent that made other kids look at her funny.

Peter had never been away from his parents for more than a few days, ever. He wasn’t happy. He was miserable in fact. Peter had been sitting alone behind a tree, having escaped canoeing, face hid in his knees. His wanted nothing more than to go home. He sniffled.

“Don’t cry,” A soft voice said next to him. He looked up and saw a pretty bluenette with big blue eyes and a kind smile on her face looking at him. She looked about his age. “It’s okay. Do you miss home too?”

Peter nodded, and tried to make it look like he was crying. The other boys could be really, really mean. “I want my pops and dad.”

“I miss my mama and papa too,” Marinette said. “I’m really far away from them.”

“Where are you from?” Peter ask curiously. He hadn’t met many people from different countries before and never a kid his own age.

Marinette played with her hair, “France. Where are you from?”

“New York City,” Peter smiled. “It’s far but not as far as Paris. Do you miss it?”

“Yep; a whole a lot,” Marinette opened the care package from her Mommy and Daddy. It just made her miss them so much more. Her grandma Gina went to this camp when she was small, and so did her dad, so they sent her there too. “Chocolate, Vanilla, or Strawberry.”

And just like any kid, Peter didn’t ask why she was asking. “I like vanilla.”

“Are you allergic to anything?”

“No.”

Marinette nodded and pulled out two cupcakes from her care package. It had been sent overnight. “Here you go, have one.” She handed him a big vanilla cupcake.

Peter’s eyes went wide and he gave her a toothy grin that showed he was missing one of his front tenth. “Thank!” He bite into it. “This is really good,” he said with his mouth full.

“My parents made them,” Marinette smiled then bit into her own chocolate cupcake. “They’re bakers!”

Peter blinked at her with wide-eyes, “That’s so cool! So they cake cookies and cake and like everything right? You must get to eat as much as you want. I wish my parents were bakers!”

Marinette just laughed. It was the start of a beautiful friendship.

Steve and Tony would get letters from his son all about the new friend he made. And get a picture of their little boy with his arm around a blue-haired.

“Her name is Marinette,” Steve read the letter. “She’s French. Her parents are the best bakers in the world who send her weekly goodie packages. They have the coolest job ever!”

Tony blinked, “We’re superheroes.”

When they picked up Peter a month later from camp, he was ran up to him holding Marinette’s hand, “Dad, Pops; this is Marinette! She’s the best. She really smart and funny and cool. She’s my best friend ever! And-”

Tony laughed, “Easy there, squirt. Take a breath. Hi Miss Marinette.”

Marinette blushed but grinned big, “Hi, Mr. Stark, sir. Peter’s really nice. Like really nice. He even stopped a big kid from killing a poor little spider. He was really brave!”

Peter grinned, “You’re really brave. You’re the one who pushed him when he pushed me the ground. You even made him apologize. It was awesome.” He told his parents. “Can I got to Marinette’s? Please. I want to see her bakery. Pretty please.”

“Paris is a long ways away bud,” Steve teased. “You didn’t even want to leave for camp remember.”

“Not without your Ameri-bear,” Tony added with a chuckle. “You’ve been sleeping with that old teddy bear ever.”

They stopped laughing when they saw Peter giving them a wide-eyed look, his mouth dropped opened, with his face a bright red. Before they knew it, Peter was shoving them towards the car, “Be right back, Mari.”

Peter glared, “Don’t blow this for me.”

Tony snorted, “Blow what? Do you even know what they means?”

“Yes,” Peter huffed indignantly, though it was a lie. “Marinette’s really, really nice. And smart. And funny. She doesn’t think I’m weird. Or too smart or anything. And she’s so pretty. Like really, really pretty.”

Steve cooed, “Aww, you have a crush on Marinette.”

“NO!” Peter shouted. His face back to a bright shade of red.

Tony smirked, “So I shouldn’t send out the wedding invitations then?”

They were there for every milestone of Peter’s life; the day he was born, the day he crawled, his first word, his first steps, his first lab explosion, his first missing tooth, and his first day of school. Now they were baring witness to the first time Peter visibly looked to be contemplating murder. Unfortunately, it was at them.

“Mari’s parents are really cool,” Peter stated. “Just be cool like them.” Then he ran back to Marinette.

“I’m Tony Stark,” Tony said incredulously.

“I’m Captain America!” Steve said at the same time.

Still, they ended up meeting the rest of the Dupain-Cheng family, and found them delightful.

It was from that summer on that the Avengers got used to seeing Peter and Marinette running around the tower together. Peter also got used to be teased for his supposed crush on his best friend. Natasha ended up taking Marinette under wing and training her in combat and the art of spying.

However, it was only two years later, when the Avengers responded to an intruder alert and found Marinette standing over a hogtied Nick Fury, with a fierce look on her face and Peter looking proud, that Tony said two magical words:

“I ship it.”

Damian Wayne met Marinette when they were ten-years-old. Damian had only been living with his father for five years but still had trouble acting like a normal kid. The life of a league of shadows member was hard to break from; especially if it’s ingrained from a young age. He had been chastised more than a few times for leaving off on his own, especially in a place like Gotham.

When Alfred informed them that an old friend and business associate was coming to visit with her granddaughter, a girl Damian’s age; it was to no one’s surprise when his father took him aside and made him promise to be polite.

The woman Gina had showed up in the beginning of summer. She arrived on a motorcycle that had been so loud they heard as soon as she pulled up to the house. Alfred had answered the door with a chuckle.

“Penny!” The woman exclaimed and jumped at him with a hug. She had short silver, nearly white, hair and dressed mostly black and had a studded black leather jacket on and boots. “Ugh, still as boring as ever, I see,” Gina said once she pulled back from the hug.

“Gina,” Alfred smiled. “You haven’t change a bit.”

Gina just laughed, and turned her attention to Bruce, “Brucie; I heard you took my advice to go exploring the world. How’d you like it?”

Bruce smirked, “It was… educational.” He had known Gina since he was a boy, having spent a few summers with Tom, even gone to his and Sabine’s wedding. The woman hadn’t been to visit since Bruce adopted Tim and Cass. “You remember my boys?”

“Dick,” Gina said pulling the oldest Wayne boy into a tight hug. “You get more handsome every time I see. So sorry to hear you and Barbs broke up. I know some amazing girls I can introduce you to.”

Dick just laughed, “I’m fine flying solo for now.”

“Jason,” Gina said crossing her arms, with a raised eyebrow. “I haven’t seen you since I let you steal my last motorcycle.”

Jason smirked, “let me?” The only reason he’d happily come to the Manor was because Alfred told him Gina was on her way. She was the coolest lady he knew growing up.

“Oh please,” Gina waved him off. “You drove it to the Barnes and Nobel’s on 4th, and it sat there for like three hours. I have a tracker on my stuff, kid. I let you. Now give me a hug.” Jason laughed and hugged her.

The same went for Tim and Cass. Cass excitedly told Gina in Chinese all about her adventures in Hong Kong. Tim told her about his trip around the world. Then finally it was Damian’s turn.

Gina smiled softly at the youngest of Bruce’s kids, “And who’s this?”

Bruce put a hand on his son’s shoulder, “This is Damian.”

“Nice to meet you, Damian,” Gina said.

Damian nodded stiffly, “Pleasure.” He wore a black tailored dress pants and a high collard green turtle neck.

Gina rolled her eyes, “God, Bruce, he’s nearly as uptight as you were at his age.”

“I was not uptight,” Bruce defended, despite knowing he was bratty little shit when he was Damian’s age.

Alfred snorted but smiled, “And the young guest you brought with you.”

Gina grinned and held out her hand to her granddaughter who had stayed close to the motorcycle, “She’s a bit a shy.” She told them. “This is Marinette.”

“Hi!” Marinette waved shyly, blushing a bit.

The family cooed at the sight of the little blue-eyed, bluenette, in a baby blue shirt with a yellow happy face and dark jean short, with her hair in pigtails and big smile on her face. So innocent, so sweet. Bruce, of course, had been acquainted with Marinette. He had gone to the baby shower for her and stopped by the bakery whenever he was in Paris. The girl was the sweetest little thing.

When Damian and Marinette got sent off to play together, only Alfred, Gina, and Bruce thought it was a good idea. Damian didn’t know why he was being punished. And certainly there were more fitting punishment than spending time with some little kid.

He sent a cold glare at the bluenette, once they arrived in the entertainment room, “There are video games and movies over there,” Damian pointed to the TV. “Amuse yourself. Or perhaps you would prefer a coloring book and a teddy bear,” He said sarcastically.

Marinette crossed her arms, “First of all, I would love a coloring book, thank you very much. There’s nothing wrong with that.” He snorted. “And Bruce said we should play together; get to know each other. Or do you frequently disobey an order?” If Damian was a rebel, Marinette needed to know. Because there was a fine line between rebel and troublemaker.

Damian huffed, “Fine; let’s play a game then. How about… Mortal Kombat.” He sent her a cruel smirk. “Not the video game. Real life. It’s simple. We fight and the first person to die or cry,” He said with distaste. “Loses. Up for it?”

“What weapons do we get?” Marinette asked. Bucky and Natasha had taught her for the last four years on a variety of weapons. Though she knew it was only because of Steve’s doing that they hadn’t taught her how to use a gun yet. They even got a shield agent assigned to Paris to train her throughout the school year.

Damian raised an eyebrow, curious. He had expected her to run screaming from the room in sheer terror, crying to her grandmother. “What do you prefer?”

“Bo staff.”

“Same,” Damian said. “Let’s take this to the backyard.”

When Marinette yelled to her grandma that she and Damian were going to play in the backyard, Damian marveled that no one came out with questions filled with suspicious. Granted the first time Damian said he was going to go play in the backyard, he ended up in Watch Tower going over surveillance footage.

Marinette and Damian stood ten feet apart on the grassy field, each held a long black bo staff. It was quiet. Damian had set an alarm on his phone to begin the fight. Marinette set hers to play music.

When the loud beeping sounded and Carrie Underwood’s champion started playing, they charged at each other.

It was a mix of attacks and dodges. Their staffs met; each putting their full force behind it.

“It is not wise to meet a Wayne in Battle,” Damian growled at her.

Marinette rolled her eyes, “If all Waynes are as big of a jerk as you are, you must all be used to be called out to fight.”

Damian attacks. The two kids stand in one place, trading feints, thrusts and parries with lightning speed, almost impossible to follow. The youngest Wayne was reluctant to admit, even to himself, that Marinette had no trouble matching him. “You know what you're doing, I'll give you that.”

“Not too bad yourself,” Marinette nodded.

The two slow walked around the length of the imaginary circle. Until they were in the exact opposite of their initial positions.

“Your taste in music is terrible though,” Damian added on. Marinette let out an angry hiss like a cat and attacks,

Their duel continued. Their staff flash and ring. Suddenly, Damian swung his staff, partially letting go. Marinette seeing the staff free sailing, ducked quickly. Not seeing Damian catch it at the last second, and then send a kick flying at her chest. Her weapon flew out of her hand. Marinette crashes to the ground, and with a quick swing her legs, sweeps Damian’s feet from under him, losing his weapon in the process.

Marinette and Damian jumped up, right back in the fighting position. What happened next was a mix of punches and kicks, and headlocks. Until they found themselves once again across from each in their imaginary circle.

Marinette’s hair was a mess, pigtails having come lose. She was covered in welts and bruises from the staff. There was blood on her shirt and dripping her nose. Damian didn’t look any better. His well-groomed look was gone. His turtleneck had torn. His lip was busted. There was bruising around his neck from when Marinette had wrapped her legs around it and held him in a chokehold, like Natasha had taught her, until he managed to maneuver out of it.

Giggles burst from Marinette before she could stop them, “You look ridiculous,” She laughed.

“Shall I show you a mirror?” Damian said with a smirk. He chuckled.

They both shook their heads, looked at each other again, and they each fell over laughing. They only stopped when the sound of applause reached their ears.

Damian and Marinette looked up and saw the entire Wayne family and Gina watching them.

Alfred nodded approvingly, “I see she takes after you Gina.”

“That she does,” Gina grinned. “You’re grandson could give a young you a run for your money.”

“How long after you been there?” Marinette squeaked.

Bruce fought not to smile. “Just as the music started to play. We were going to invite you both in for ice cream.” He had been furious at first at his youngest child for deciding to spar with a civilian but the fury had faded as it became clear that Marinette could keep up with his son. There were times when he was sure one was trying to kill the other but they always held back; even if only just.

He looked at Gina, “It’s nice to see Damian getting along so well with someone.” He would regret those words soon enough. Very soon.

Damian and Marinette spent the next few days running after each other and trying to one up another in best surprise attacks. Bruce’s older kids took bets. Jason and Cass voted that Marinette would eventually win. Tim and Dick sided with Damian.

One day, after lunch, Damian commented on his field trip his class was taking, “The zoo,” he wrinkled his nose. “It’s barbaric. Animals trapped in cages while less human beings gawk in amusement. There’s a new wolf exhibit my teacher is dying to see. It’s all terrible.”

Marinette agreed. While she liked the zoo, she always thought the animals looked really sad. She took a sip from her juice box, “So let’s do something about it.”

That night, after midnight, the two kids climbed out of their windows, onto the roof, and quietly raced into the darkness. When they made it to the Zoo, they wasted no time in disabling the security cameras and breaking in the wolf exhibit. Damian, dressed in his the Robin costume he wasn’t supposed to have yet, managed to calm the wolf down as Marinette, dressed in mostly black with a red mask on, stole a truck (something she learned from Clint.) By the time security managed to get the cameras working again the kids and wolf were gone. All without a trace.

The kids, and wolf, ditched the truck about a mile from the manor and raced home. They snuck back in through the tunnels of the Batcave that let the batmobile move securely without anyone seeing it.

However, when they finally got to the Batcave, they were met with the exasperated looks of Batman and Alfred and the highly amused looks of Gina, Nightwing, Redhood, Blackbat, and Robin.

Damian nodded slowly, not even bothering to try to hide the giant wolf, “Father, I decided that Marinette should stay for summer. She is much more pleasant than I originally thought. And don’t worry, Marinette figured out you were batman her third day here. She even found the cave all on her own.”

Batman narrowed his eyes. He took of his cowl. He had been alerted that his son and Marinette were missing from their rooms just seconds after he was alerted about a break in at the zoo. He knew his son well. And it didn’t take a genius to be two and two together. “Grounded! One week.” He looked at Gina who nodded in agreement, though the smile was still on her face.

The kids huffed but nodded.

“And wolf is going back!” That was met with loud protests.

Marinette stayed at the Wayne Manor for another month. Not long after the grounding was over, Damian came into the living room where his father and siblings were and informed his father that he was leaving, “Alfred is taking Marinette and I to the movies. There is a showing of the new Little Mermaid movie she desires to see.”

Bruce closed the book he was reading, “Very well. I’ll tag along. We can make a family day out of it.” Dick was the first to agree followed shortly by the others, who wanted to see the havoc Marinette and Damian tended to create.

Damian visibly froze, “No, father.” He stated firmly. “I had… hoped it would be just Marinette and I. We can be trusted, I assure you.”

“It’s not a matter of trust,” Bruce started but Jason interrupted him.

“No! Way!” Jason yelled, his eyes wide with a sudden realization, and a grin his face. “You like her.”

It was the entire room’s turn to freeze. All eyes on Damian who had blush slowly creeping onto his face. “Marinette has proven herself to be a strong and intelligent ally. She is worthy of my regard.”

Jason shook his head, “No. You like her, like her.”

“I have come to value her friendship highly,” Damian said but the deepening redness of his face told a different story. He went to elementary school, he knew what like-like meant.

Dick cooed, “Baby bird has a crush.”

“I do not!” Damian hissed.

Cass snickered, “It is alright. Marinette is quite lovely.”

Tim smirked, “And she has rather nice green eyes. A bit dull though.”

“Blue!” Damian corrected quickly. “She has marvelous blue eyes. They are not dull. They shine brighter than the sun. They sparkle when she laughs, you dolt.”

Silence filled the room. Damian looked horrified at his words. Bruce looked at his young son with raise eyebrows and a small smile on his face.

“I am leaving now, father,” Damian stated. “I will return as soon as the movie ends provided we do not stop for frozen yogurt. Good day.” And then he swiftly left the room, leaving his siblings snickering in his wake.

Bruce opened back up his book, “I ship it.”

The declaration caused the room to fill with shouts.

Marinette would spend half of every summer for the next few years in Gotham; training with Damian under the guidance of Batman himself. Eventually going onto meet the rest of the Justice League. She and Damian used the zeta beams to hang out as much as possible.

The other half of her summers, Marinette spent in New York City at Stark Tower with Peter and the rest of the avengers. Learning under the tutelage of The Black Widow and The Winter Soldier, two out of four of Peter’s godparents (the others being Rhodey and Pepper of course), while Peter learned under his parents.

Damian officially became Robin at 12. Peter became Spider-man at fourteen. And Marinette became Ladybug at 13. It was to no one’s surprise the two boys were the first ones she told about being a superhero. And it was not to her surprise when they couldn’t keep it from their families for long.

“Aww, look you two match,” Tony said upon seeing Marinette transform. “Couples costumes.” The genius would later admit he had that mouth webbing coming. He still ship Peter/Marinette so hard.

Three weeks later, Bruce had said, “A little bright, isn’t it?”

“Do I even need to mention the first Robin costume?” Marinette snapped back. Though she was secretly glad that as soon as she saw the original Ladybug costume she had Tikki teach her out to change it. Gone was skintight onesie. Now she dressed in a more armored uniform. That was mostly black with bright red polka dots everywhere.

Bruce smirked. He was proud of the girl who had become his son’s closest friend, and obvious crush. He really hoped his son would ask out Marinette soon.

Then the Avengers and Justice League found out. Marinette found herself defending Paris with a league member or an Avenger for like six months before she finally told them where to shove it. She would call them if she needed them. Though she didn’t mind Robin or Spiderman dropping into help every now and then when their secret identities were in town.

Chat, who had grown become a brother to Marinette once their identities had been revealed to each other, had fanboy’d so hard the first time Robin came to help. And then again when Spiderman appeared, after catching Ladybug in a web after she’d been knocked from the top of the Eiffel tower. Then Marinette had to reveal that she knew the Avengers and the Justice league.

It took Adrien five seconds with Peter Stark-Rogers to know he had a crush on Marinette. And he cheerfully told Peter, “I’ve got the god of destruction in my pocket. I’ll feed you to him if you hurt her.”

It took Adrien three days to realize Damian Wayne liked Marinette. And he braced himself, held his ground, and told the teen, “You like Marinette. She’s my sister. I just want you to remember: Cats eat birds.”

He thought it was really menacing until Damian sprayed him the face with a water bottle, “Bad kitty.”

Adrien hissed.

As good as Marinette’s superhero life was going, so was her fashion career. MDC was slowly become well known high-class designer and household name thanks to Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, Bruce Wayne, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Natasha, and even Lex Luther wearing her clothes.

her normal life had gone in the opposite direction.

Lila had come to class and lied her way to the top; she went on and on about all the celebrities she knew. She promised all the students great chances and opportunities. Only a few didn’t eat it all up. Marinette, Chloe, Nathaniel, and Adrien called out her lies relentlessly. This caused the class to think of them as jealous bullies and had them ostracized to the back at Lila’s subtle behest. Unfortunately for Lila, Adrien had been quick to join them. And nothing she, or anyone else in class, could say to convince the blond boy otherwise.

Marinette had thought of most of the students as friends but hadn’t been too surprised when they turned against her. She had never been to close to any of apart from the ones who joined her in back. For a while she had considered that maybe Alya would become her best friend but decided against it once she learned just what type of journalist she was. The glasses-wearing girl was always out for the next big scoop and didn’t seem to care how she got it; even if it meant putting herself in danger.

Alya had also been adamant for a long time that Ladybug and Chat Noir liked each other romantically despite both heroes denying it repeatedly. She only stopped when Chat Noir told Alya that Ladybug was his sister.

When Lila came, like the rest of the class, Alya ate up her stories and promises of a future at famous newspapers like the Daily Planet or the Gotham Gazette.

And when Marinette claimed Lila was lying, Alya was the first to accuse Marinette of being jealous. The girl never seemed to get the message that Marinette and Adrien didn’t like each other that way and only thought of each as siblings at best and best friends at worst. Alya didn’t listen or care. Whenever Lila gave a tear-filled eyes saying that Marinette was being oh so mean to her, Alya was the first to defend her new bestie. The rest of the class following suit.

It didn’t take long for Marinette to be voted out of being class president. This made Fearsome four, as Nathanial had nicknamed them after he and Chloe were given permanent spots as heroes, snickered as Marinette had pulled several string to for the annual class trip; so much for the class staying at Stark Tower with the Avengers or visiting Gotham and staying in luxury hotels. Oh well.

Once she wasn’t class president, all the little things that Marinette had done in addition to the positon had stopped as well. She stopped planning dances, fundraisers, and birthday parties (mostly because she was never invited to go to anyone’s in classes anymore.) No more free sweets from the bakery for anyone but her three friends. No free commissions. No babysitting. No banner designs. Nothing. Squat. Zero.

This of course caused anger from the other students in class as they had gotten used to all the free Marinette provided and tasks she did.

Alya huffed, “You’re just getting back us because we’re not your friends anymore.”

To which Marinette replied coldly, “Your point being?”

It was suffice to say when Marinette fifteenth birthday rolled around and Marinette’s mom forced her to give invitations to the entire class, the students were quick to rip up the invitations in front of her face.

Lila smiled, “Sorry, Marinette. Everyone’s throwing a party for me that day. No one can come.”

“Thank god,” Marinette said to their shock because it was obvious the girl was sincerely relieved. “My mom forced me to invite you, and I had no idea how to politely tell you I didn’t really want you to come.”

On the day of Marinette’s birthday, Saturday, while the class was enjoying their own party, Marinette just finished setting up a mock carnival with rides, games, and concession booths, and an area for bands to play. Adrien had even gotten his dad, Nathalie, and Gorilla to come on the threat of shaving his head bald.

Then Marinette’s guests started to arrive. Marinette’s schoolmates, the ones she had started to befriend after being made an outcast in class arrived first; the drama club, the art club, the fashion club, cooking club, and the world Travelers’ club had turned out be made up of some great people.

Adrien, Chloe, and Nathaniel stayed close to Marinette side; each wearing an earpiece.

Jagged Stone in all his rock and roll glory arrived first. Clara Nightingale practically danced her way in. Lois and Clark and the rest of the Kents were a bit more subdued. Though Cat, Nadja, and Lois immediately located rivals and the three could be found gossiping and sharing stories with each other. The same could be said when Style Queen Audrey, Wilhelmina Slater, Gabriel Agreste, and Miranda Priestly. Then it was just a slew of people; from friendly neighbors Marinette grew up with to famous models and actors and chefs.

She immediately greeted Damian with a hug, and thanked him for the perfectly wrapped green present. A second later, Marinette did the same to Peter, and thanked him for the blue present.

The two boys eyed each other.

Marinette looked confused, “Damian I told you about Peter, right? I talked about him all the time. And the same for Damian, Peter.”

“You didn’t mention he was Peter Stark,” Damian stated.

“Peter Stark-Rogers,” Peter corrected. “And you’re Damian Wayne.”

And Marinette finally realized she had forgotten to do one major thing; tell the Avengers and the Justice League that Marinette worked with both of them. Or at the very least Tony Stark and Bruce Wayne who looked ready to bring out the big guns.

Both superhero teams were very much aware of the others superhero identities as the Avengers never hid theirs and Tony hacked into the Watch Tower.

Lex Luther and Oliver Queen, the third and fourth richest men in the world, looked highly amused. While Gabriel looked like Christmas had come early. He had no idea Miss Dupain. He knew allowing Adrien to befriend the girl was smart idea.

The other heroes subtly watched the two for any signs that a fight might break out. Bruce had never forgiven Tony for hacking into the watchtower and uncovering Batman identity.

“Brucie,” Tony grinned and held out his hand. “You’re looking great today. No idea you’d be here. Or that you knew Marinette.”

Bruce shook his hand a bit too firmly, “Her grandmother is an old family friend. I was at her parents’ wedding. I was at their baby shower. I’ve known Marinette for years.”

“We met Marinette when she was five,” Tony said. “She and Peter met at camp. Aren’t they adorable together,” He nodded to the two.

Bruce forced a grin on his face, “Not as cute as she and Damian. They’ve been nearly inseparable since they were ten. Wouldn’t be surprised if hear wedding bells in the future.”

“Of course you will,” Tony laughed. “I’m sure Marinette will invite to her and Peter’s wedding.”

The two glared at each other.

Their significant others just shook their heads. Selena, aka Catwoman, looked amused. While Steve looked so done with this world.

“As one of Peter’s godfather’s,” Bucky said. “Should I be offering to fight Damian’s godfather?” He joked.

Clark glared, his eyes turning a bit red, “Anytime you want.”

Rhodey slapped Bucky on the back, “That’s all you man.” He was not fighting Superman over a case of puppy love.

Diana looked a bit confused, “Should I engage in mortal combat with Peter’s godmother then?”

Pepper crossed her arms, feeling last of the extremis still pumping through her blood.

Natasha’s eyes narrowed, “It’s not required. But I wouldn’t mind a friendly spar or two.”

“You are the Black Widow, yes?” Diana asked. “A most excellent fight it will be then.”

“Where is Shazaam?” Thor’s voice thundered. “I wish for a fight as well.”

Billy Batson had never been so happy that he wasn’t in his superhero form before. Quietly, he made his way to the Ferris wheel. He was going to avoid the god of thunder for as long as he possibly could.

The magic users found each and decided to compare their abilities. It didn’t go well. Clint got turned into a frog… again.

When Fury arrived he eyed the superheroes that were there; avengers, justice league, and the ones (dare devil, Jessica Jones, the Xmen) who were mostly unaffiliated. And briefly wondered if the kid who had hogtied him was planning world domination. He wouldn’t doubt it.

The rest of the part went really well. Chloe, Adrien, and Nathaniel watched the superheroes in attendance like hawks. And were forced to break up more than one fight, or arm wrestling match that got out of hand. It ended up trending on social media, as various celebrities had posted pictures of themselves at the party. And then suddenly the world was asking wanted to know just Who Marinette Dupain-Cheng was. Marinette took that moment to announce that she was MDC. Which blew up the story even more.

The only downside was that Peter and Damian seemed to have entered into a competition of some sort, the same with their fathers.

At the end of the party, when sayings the goodbyes, Marinette swore she distinctly heard, Tony hiss, “Spiderbug forever!”

“Daminette!” Bruce snarled back.

And she had vocally asked why Bucky was giving Superman wary glances but no one would tell her. Adults were weird.

Monday came and the entire school, and all of Paris was buzzing about Marinette’s party. When she got to class, she was met with unhappy faces of her ex-friends.

“They wouldn’t let us inside,” Alya was quick to complain the moment the bluenette stepped through the door.

“We even told them we knew you,” Nino frowned. “The Bouncers didn’t believe we were invited.”

Marinette shrugged as she went to her seat between Adrien and Chloe, “its invitation only. What happened to your invitations?”

All the students frowned. They had been told the same thing at the door. And had been miserable when they remembered they destroyed the invites. Even Lila had nearly shed real tears when she saw just who she had missed meeting for real.

Alya crossed her arms, “We tried calling you. But you changed your number! How could you not tell your bestie you changed your number? When did you change your number?”

“When I realized you still had it.” It was a cold response. One that Damien would’ve been proud of. “And I’m not your bestie. We’re not friends, remember? Why did you even try to come to my party, you were too busy last I checked.”

“That’s before we saw how awesome your party was!” Kim said honestly. “Dude who knew you knew so many celebrities.”

“Prince Ali was there!” Rose said excitedly. “I really wanted to see him.”

“Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Lex Luther,” Max whined. “I was so close but so far.”

That was pretty much how the rest of the morning went, with a side of her ex-friends trying to question Marinette about being MDC and all the celebrities she knew. Marinette didn’t answer a single question.

Just before the lunch bell rang, there was a knock on the door, “Hello, I’m here to pick up Marinette for lunch,” Damian Wayne smiled charmingly as he walked in. “My father’s waiting.”

The class gasped. Lila’s mouth dropped.

A second later Peter Stark-Rogers walked in the classroom, “Marinette, you want to go to lunch,” He said excitedly. “Dad’s waiting outside.”

Again the class’s mouth dropped.

Outside of the school, Bruce Wayne and Tony Stark glared at each other.

Marinette looked confusedly at her friends, “Sorry, I didn’t know you guys wanted to go to lunch. Or that you were still in town.” She told them. “It’s okay, though.” She said brightly. “You can join me and Roy.”

As if on cue, Roy Queen walked into the classroom, a big smile on his smile, “Hey Mari, you read-Oh shit!” He said upon seeing Robin and Spiderman. The two heroes sent the Red Arrow twin glares.

Two minutes later both Tony and Bruce’s phones pinged. They opened it and read the texts they got from their sons.

They looked up, and met each other eyes. “We kill Oliver together,” Tony offered.

“Agreed.”

The Green Arrow watched through binoculars from a safe distance, “Long Live Roynette!”

#ml fic #ml salt #daminette #damian wayne #marinette dupen chang #class salt #alya salt #the avengers #justice league

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galli-writes · 4 years ago

Photo

(Click here to read on Ao3!)

fandom: Teen Titans

pairing: BBRae

genre/warnings: AU - Canon Divergence; Implied/Referenced Abuse, Abusive Parents, Childhood Trauma, Graphic Depictions of Violence

additional tags: Angst, Family Issues, Friendship/Love, Protectiveness, Slow Burn, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions

summary:

There are a few things that Beast Boy knows for certain:

He’s 21….and a total lightweight. He’s a vegan (but not like…a pretentious vegan). He’s not going to be single forever.

And the Teen Titans are the only family he’ll ever need.

a/n: Hello everyone! I am finally back--though in a way I guess I never really left. I've been working on this fic on an off since I last posted, but things have been so busy that it's been rather slow going. I'm going to try REALLY hard to keep to a more consistent schedule going forward. The fic is entirely written, but needs some pretty heavy editing. I'm going to shoot for an upload every other Friday from here on out. Thank you all so much for being patient!

Chapter 5: A Helping Hand (words 6,264)

It wasn’t often that Beast Boy played hooky. At least, not when he thought there was a good chance Robin would catch him. Skipping practice was a serious no-go, outside of a few exceptions. Beast Boy knew he wasn’t a good enough actor to feign sickness. The ‘family emergency’ excuse existed strictly as a formality for obvious reasons. Reasons that were starting to seem less obvious now.

The letter in his drawer was already old news--at least to him. Beast Boy knew the contents of the note by heart. The memorization wasn’t intentional, but the words swam around in his head constantly nonetheless. A symptom of a much larger disease, as Raven might have put it. So he’d moved on to obsessively deconstructing and reconstructing the many packages that still littered their living room. Not that doing so had given him any more insight into who Nicholas Galtry was. Or why he had had possession of all of his parents’ things. Or why they were here now. Among the many disjointed thoughts that rattled in his brain, one consistently nudged its way to the top of the pool. That one was also tucked neatly away in a drawer in his room. Though he hadn’t dared to look at the picture since first putting it there.

Beast Boy glanced behind him at the clock in the kitchen. He’d been here an hour already--someone was probably already out looking for him, Robin’s orders. He quickly shut the box he was currently sorting through. It had been the same as all the boxes before it--filled with priceless, nameless items from another place and another time. He felt like a thief, searching his own belongings, not knowing what exactly he hoped to find among them. Each time carefully packing the boxes back as he’d found them. Like a thief, hoping to cover his tracks.

“There you are.”

Beast Boy flinched, instantly shrinking back from the box in front of him. He turned around to face Cyborg looming over him.

“Man, I’ve been lookin’ for you everywhere ,” Cyborg said, a twinge of frustration in his voice. “What the hell are you doin’ up here?”

“Nothing,” Beast Boy said, anxiously getting to his feet. “Just...hanging out.”

Cyborg frowned. “Well maybe you should come ‘hang out’ at training.”

“Training?” Beast Boy repeated automatically.

“Yeah, you know...the thing we have scheduled every single afternoon? At the exact same time? Every day?” Cyborg said, cocking an eyebrow at him. Now he seemed more confused than frustrated—a switch that was very typically Cyborg.

“Right. Training. I was wondering where everyone else was,” Beast Boy answered. It was a poor excuse, but it wasn’t actually a lie.

Cyborg sighed, but there was a hint of a joking smile on his face when he spoke next. “Let’s just get down there before Robin kicks both our asses, okay?”

Beast Boy nodded, and for a moment it was as if the boxes behind him ceased to exist. It currently felt like there were two worlds jammed under one roof, and now that he’d been pulled out of the one behind him, he saw just how much he preferred the one in front of him. Even if it meant getting his ass kicked.

The training field had come a long way from the public school playground it resembled when they’d first settled into the Tower. It was Robin’s ongoing project--adding another ropes course, integrating fully automated sparring dummies...there were even obstacles designed with each of their abilities in mind. Beast Boy was sure that Robin had a Pinterest board dedicated to the fiasco for all of the crazy things he was constantly adding to it.

Which is why Beast Boy was confused to find that none of it was being used.

“Oh no. Don’t tell me--”

“Yep,” Cyborg said, walking the opposite direction of Robin’s martial arts art display.

“Dude, I suck at hand to hand.”

“Probably why Robin thinks you ditched,” Cyborg shrugged.

In the distance, their three remaining teammates were gathered in a clearing at the opposite end of the field. Starfire stood leaning against a tree on the sidelines, water bottle in hand. In the center of a well-worn patch of grass, Robin and Raven circled each other in what seemed to be a never-ending dance.

“So when you said Robin was gonna kick my ass...you meant that literally, didn’t you?” Beast Boy said with a frown.

“Well it might not be Robin who kicks your ass,” Cyborg smiled. “It could be Star, or Raven, or yours truly.”

“Wow, thanks,” Beast Boy grumbled. He knew Cyborg was only teasing, and Beast Boy had been the first to admit that the skillset wasn’t exactly his strong suit. But the remark lingered in his mind a second longer than he knew it should have.

“Okay, so maybe it’s not really your thing, but hey,” Cyborg said, placing a hand on Beast Boy’s shoulder. “Practice makes perfect. You’ll get there.”

“Dude. I turn into animals for a living. Most of which don’t even have opposable thumbs,” Beast Boy said, flexing his own in front of his friend. “I don’t need to be good at something I’m never gonna use.”

Cyborg merely shook his head dismissively. “Never say never, man.”

“Okay, Robin ,” Beast Boy replied with a smirk.

As if on cue, Robin and Raven’s dance came to a halt as soon as the words left Beast Boy’s mouth. He had figured they were still out of earshot, but maybe he’d been wrong.

“There you two are,” Robin said as the two of them stepped into the loosely defined dirt ring. He glanced down at his watch and then directly at Beast Boy. “Beast Boy, you’re twenty minutes late. Practice starts at four. You know that.”

Any trace of teasing Cyborg had expressed instantly evaporated when Robin spoke.

“Uh...four-twenty blaze it?” Beast Boy said with a shrug and a terribly awkward smile. The one that always appeared on his face whenever he didn’t know what else to say--which was more often than he would have liked to admit.

Robin closed his eyes, raising a hand to his temples.

Raven’s facepalm was much less subtle.

“Starfire are you ready to go?” Robin asked, shaking his head slightly.

“Mmm hmm!” Starfire hummed in response.

“Great. Then I’m gonna have you and Beast Boy up next.”

“Uh…” Beast boy shot a glance at Starfire, who was practically the living portrait of an Instagram athlete. “Shouldn’t I warm up first or something?”

“In a real fight, you won’t always get the chance to ‘warm up’ beforehand,” Robin said, crossing his arms over his chest. Which was definitely his way of saying ‘that’s what you get for showing up late’.

“Don’t worry, Beast Boy,” Starfire smiled. “I will try not to injure you too terribly.”

Beast Boy certainly began to feel warm now, to the point where he was sure his face was turning red.

In his peripheral, he saw that Cyborg had cleared the training ring and was now standing beside Raven on the sidelines. She leaned in slightly to her left, whispering something into Cyborg’s ear with a devious smirk.

Beast Boy felt his stomach drop. He didn’t know what was worse. Starfire’s complete sincerity or Raven’s total lack thereof.

But he didn’t have much time to dwell on the thought before it was overtaken completely by a harrowing sense of panic. He had been posed for a fight, staring head on at his partner. But it was only now that his vision snapped back into focus, just in time to catch a whirling ball of green energy headed directly toward him.

He quickly swerved out of the way, trying to regain his balance. But before he could find his footing, another blaze shone at his feet, knocking him straight to the ground. He squinted, eyes beginning to water from the dust cloud that now surrounded him. He wanted to open his mouth to say something--make some complaint that he hadn’t been ready, that there had been no signal to start. But he knew that wouldn’t buy him any sympathy in Robin’s eyes.

Of course, vying for Robin’s attention was even less of a no-go once the sirens started blaring.

Without so much as a nod from the leader in question, everyone took off in the same direction. Everyone except Beast Boy, who was still on the ground.

He pushed himself to his feet, the palms of his hands stinging against the soil. He knew it wasn’t personal. None of this was personal. Kind of like how the sense of isolation and strangeness he’d felt around his friends since the reading that letter certainly wasn’t personal .

But as he watched them disappearing now--not one of them looking back to see if he had followed--it sure felt that way.

So what if calling shotgun was more important than helping him up? He shook his head, now unable to hold back a self-satisfied smirk. No matter how much of a head start they had, no one was going to outrun a cheetah.

Within seconds, the ground flew under his feet like a treadmill set on max speed. When the garage came into view, Beast Boy was relieved to find that it was already open--and more importantly empty. In a flash, he transformed back, and with the same proud smile lingering on his face sauntered over to crack open the passenger door.

His smile instantly disappeared when he saw who was behind it.

“ Raven ?”

Even at her name, she didn’t so much as shoot him a glance. Raven just sat there, comfortably nestled in the passenger seat with her feet kicked up on the dashboard. She scrolled through her phone with a bored expression--like she’d been there for hours.

“How the hell did you beat me?” Beast Boy blurted out, feeling irrationally annoyed as Raven continued to sit there, chewing a piece of gum in silence.

“Want a piece?” she said absentmindedly, materializing a pack of DoubleMint from the locked glove box. There were dozens of other flavors inside--so many packs that they filled almost half the compartment. “It’s Cyborg’s secret stash--but I won’t tell.”

Beast Boy ignored her. “There’s no way you could have beaten me here. I took a shortcut even you don’t know about,” he said curtly.

“Weird, huh?” she said, turning her attention back to her phone. “It’s almost like magic. ”

Beast Boy frowned. “That’s cheating.”

“And you turning into a cheetah clearly isn’t,” she said plainly. Then another sly smile crept onto her face. “Get it? A cheetah ?”

Beast Boy’s face scrunched up in even further annoyance. Without a word, he shut the passenger door, opening the one behind it. He already knew which seat he’d be directed to sit in. Though even calling it a seat was a bit generous. Nevertheless, he’d occupied it since day one because, of course, ‘he was the shortest and it just made sense for him to ride in the middle because if they were ever in a crash the height of the headrest wouldn’t do anyone else any good blah blah blah’. As if something as normal as a car crash would really be enough to injure a bunch of superheroes.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road,” Cyborg said, swinging open the door to the driver’s seat and hopping inside.

As the doors on either side of him opened and closed in perfect sync, Beast Boy was struck with another harrowing consequence of his seating arrangement.

It was true that Robin and Starfire were relatively tame as far as couples went--at least in terms of explicit PDA. It was only once in a blue moon that you actually caught them exchanging so much as a kiss on the cheek. But there was no denying the magnetic force between them. And it was times like these that Beast Boy felt less like a person and more like a glitch jamming the radio signal.

“Okay,” Robin said, flicking open the communication device on his wrist. A small holographic map appeared above it, marking several heat signatures as they traversed the grid on the screen. In an instant, an identical image appeared on a screen in the center console of the car.

“Looks like they’ve already hit Gorman street,” Cyborg said, glancing at the center console.

“They’re moving fast,” Robin added, adjusting something on the device. “But only because they’ve sacrificed numbers for speed”.

“Well let’s just see if they can outrun this, ” Cyborg replied, revving the engine in response. Within moments, the Tower was far behind them.

Beast Boy leaned forward slightly to look out the window on his left. They hadn’t been driving long at all, but he had no idea where they were. Left and right, worn down warehouse buildings lined the streets as far as he could see. Overhead, a thick gray fog swallowed the entire sky.

“Starfire, I want you and Cy to go after the group of three heading west,” Robin continued, pointing to several figures on the map as he spoke. “I’ll go after the solo. Raven, Beast Boy—you two track the pair heading in the opposite direction.”

Raven didn’t outwardly protest, but her agitated sigh was enough to send its intended message.

After what seemed like only a second later, the car skidded to a halt at the edge of a narrow alley. And without missing a beat, everyone else took off in their respective directions at full speed. This time Beast Boy could confidently blame the middle seat for keeping him a step behind.

“I’ll race ya,” Beast Boy said, throwing a competitive smile at Raven, who had surprisingly seemed to be waiting for him.

“Just hurry up,” she said plainly, looking to the sky.

The streets seemed even more bleak from above.

Every other street light flickered as if choking out its dying breath. Cracks ran down the sidewalks like jagged scars, and chipped paint and graffiti adorned the walls of the decrepit buildings. Beast Boy found himself wondering where everyone was--there were barely even any cars on the streets.

“Ow!” Raven exclaimed suddenly.

Simultaneously, Beast Boy felt his wings crumple under him as he crashed into her from behind. He screeched involuntarily, trying to regain his balance.

“Why are we stopping?” he asked--or rather squawked--momentarily forgetting he was still very much a bird.

Luckily, Raven seemed to get the idea. Without a word, she pointed to two shadowy figures slipping around the corner of a nearby building. She started to open her mouth to say something then, but Beast Boy was already locking in on the figures below.

Without a second thought, he dove sharply down toward one of the shadows in his sight. Talons poised, he only managed to graze the top of his target’s head. Or at least what he could think of as being the thing’s head, as the action felt more like skimming a silhouette than an actual person.

At the very least, the surprise of his attack was enough to knock the figure off balance and trip on some debris below.

Beast Boy landed nearby, skidding onto the asphalt. Back on two legs, he whipped around and morphed once more. A rhino was always a solid play when you didn’t quite know what you were dealing with. He kicked up the rubble under his front foot and ducked his head, preparing for a running start. Then he let his momentum carry him forward--feeling the power of an entire stampede in his muscles--which turned out to be much more than he bargained for.

It was like the wall came out of nowhere. Or maybe he just hadn’t looked before leaping. Though his horn mdulled the impact slightly, Beast Boy felt every shard of cement as the crash sent a shocking ripple through his entire body. When he opened his eyes, he was back to his usual self again. But unlike a moment ago, his head was spinning, and he was on his back watching the dark clouds rolling above. His vision had doubled, even tripled, and he shook his head wearily in an attempt to focus on anything at all. Instead, he saw the shaking image of someone approaching him. And his gut told him it wasn’t one of the people they were after. It was something much worse.

“What the fuck was that?” Raven said, leaning over him with a disapproving pout on her face.

“Rhino,” was all Beast Boy could manage, his head still spinning.

Raven scowled, but extended a hand out to him regardless. When she yanked him to his feet in one swift motion, the gesture suddenly felt less sympathetic.

“We’re supposed to be working together , moron,” she said, her tone biting. “How the hell are we supposed to do that if you knock yourself out before we even catch up to the bad guys?”

Beast Boy didn’t have an answer for that. So he didn’t give one, which probably didn’t help his case any more.

“God, you’re useless,” Raven said, grabbing his wrist and dragging him behind him. “Come on.”

They continued down the natural path of the alleyway uneventfully. And that was what worried Beast Boy most. If he wasn’t going to die at the hands of their enemies, he was sure he’d die of embarrassment knowing he’d let them get away. Again.

Luckily for him, if Raven had any more thoughts on the matter she kept them to herself.

When they reached what seemed to be the end of the narrow street, Beast Boy was somewhat relieved to find that it wasn’t the dead end he had been expecting. Rather, the space before them now opened dramatically into something resembling a large courtyard. The entire perimeter was lined by walls of surrounding brick buildings--the only other entrances and exits to the pavilion being opposing alleyways much like the one they’d just emerged from.

But the courtyard’s strange location certainly wasn’t the most interesting thing about it.

In the very center, shrouded by a cloud of steam trickling through a nearby grate, two figures turned abruptly to meet their gaze. Even though Beast Boy could hardly make out the eyes looking back at them, he knew their stare was a threat.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Raven said quietly, lingering in the shadows for a moment longer.

The words echoed in Beast Boy’s head, this time in his own voice. Then a wave of panic suddenly passed over him. He wasn’t actually sure he knew the difference between what was considered brave and what Raven would consider stupid. And he didn’t exactly have the time to mull it over.

Raven stood next to him, arms outstretched, as a flurry of flying rubble began to swirl around the two figures like a vicious tornado. Everything pulled toward them like scrap metal to a magnetic core--everything from the pebbles on the ground to full sized wooden beams and crates that littered the edges of the arena.

Beast Boy searched desperately through this mind for something to do--something to be. A mouse? Small enough to go unnoticed, but way too slow to bridge the gap between the opposing sides in such a short time. He thought to the opposite end of the spectrum. A gorilla or a bear could give him a boost of much needed strength if he cut back on speed. But maybe that was too on the nose. Just like the rhino.

He bit his lip nervously, catching Raven in his peripheral again. They were supposed to be working together after all--and she had clearly taken the lead. But he had no idea how she expected him to follow.

And suddenly, it occurred to Beast Boy that that was the secret to the riddle. The one way he could truly and certainly ‘not do something stupid’ was by not doing anything at all.

For a moment, he was almost proud of himself for finally cracking the code. But the false sense of pride evaporated as soon as he realized what it implied. Maybe his only use was...being completely useless? And just like that, he felt his stomach twist in a knot again as a familiar sense of embarrassment washed over him.

“Hellooo?” Raven’s voice rang out suddenly, snapping Beast Boy out of his daze.

He turned to look at her, finding her in the same position, teeth clenched and arms shaking ever so slightly as she held her pose.

“I said not to do anything stupid ,” she snarled. “Not ‘don’t do anything at all’!”

Beast Boy blinked hard, absorbing her words--the hint of need in her voice, however faint. And suddenly, miraculously, his feeling of uncertainty disappeared as quickly as it had come.

In a flash he was a mighty T-Rex, half as tall as the building behind him. Charging forward, he reached down and fished out one of the criminals from the fading cyclone. Grabbing the figure by the arm, he swung them into the adjacent wall with ease, a cloud of dust gathering upon the point of contact. A hit that would probably kill the average person; but Beast Boy knew that right now he was just buying time.

From the corner of his eye, he caught the second figure starting to pull out a small radio, shielding it from the winds as they spoke into the device.

But before they could utter more than a sentence or two, Beast Boy spun around, sweeping them off their feet completely with his enormous tail. The person went flying at a ninety degree angle from the last, and he watched as the body hit the crumbling wall with a ‘definitely unconscious’ crash.

Morphing back, Beast Boy stood tall, admiring his work.

Raven appeared beside him a moment later, surveying the scene.

“Not bad, huh?”

“I warmed them up for you,” Raven said matter-of-factly. But Beast Boy couldn’t stop himself from brandishing another self-satisfied smirk.

Raven automatically went over to the first fallen figure, pushing directly past him as she went. Beast Boy took the hint and headed the opposite direction, preparing to inspect the second wreckage site hound dog style.

Bombarded by a multitude of different scents, he realized that he wasn’t exactly sure what he was looking for. He hoped he would know it when he came across it. And he did--when something cold and metallic brushed up against his nose.

With an obnoxious sneeze that sent his floppy ears soaring, Beast Boy took a step back from the dust cloud he had created in front of him. He squinted, coming back up on the area after the dust had settled to find a small coin-like silver disc buried in the ground. But it looked incomplete somehow, like it was only one half of a whole, given several small divots on the surface of the disc. And there was something else mixed in with the scent of the cool metal. Something thick and tangy. He followed the scent further until he found its source.

“Uh...Raven?” He hesitated, instinctively pulling back from the spot it had led him to.

Directly at his feet, the second figure lay face down in the rubble. Their clothing made it difficult to tell what kind of injuries they sustained, but there was blood. Lots of blood.

At the top of the neck, just under their hairline, a perfect silver circle was embedded in the skin--a corresponding piece almost identical to the one on the ground a few yards away. Except this one was covered in miniature circuits and drenched in the dark red liquid oozing from underneath it.

Beast Boy quickly turned back to pick up the first piece and compare the two. He was certain they had once made a single whole. But the half he inspected in his hand seemed to be no more than the covering to the blood caked battery beneath. There was some writing on it though--and maybe that could tell him something .

In a moment, Raven was beside him again, abandoning her less interesting finds at the other end of the courtyard.

“What is it?” She asked, leaning over to try and get a better look at the item in Beast Boy’s hand.

“I don’t know,” he replied, squinting at the object as he tried to make out the markings engraved on its surface. “A...R...S…,” he read slowly. “It looks like there’s more but I can’t make it out.”

Raven extended her hand, and Beast Boy automatically dropped it into her palm for a second opinion.

“Whoever these people are, they must have something to do with that break in,” she said, flipping the silver piece over in her hand. “I guess Robin was right.”

Beast Boy looked down at the body again with a frown.

“Okay, but we still don’t have any more of an idea what they’re after.”

Raven didn’t say anything. She just stood over the body, staring at it intently--in a way that suggested more than just superficial intrigue.

Suddenly, the small metal badge embedded in the figure’s skin was enveloped in a purple haze, and Beast Boy watched in horror as it began to peel away from the flesh underneath like a perfect silver scab. Leaving behind a gruesome red ring of skin, it slowly floated up and over into Raven’s open pocket.

Beast Boy swallowed hard at the sight, a bitter taste in the back of his mouth. For a split second, he was worried he was about to revisit breakfast in the worst way.

“Dude...what the fuck ?” he said, eyes darting between the site of the impromptu surgery and Raven’s slightly blood stained pocket. “That’s nasty.”

Raven didn’t even blink. “Yeah, well so are you and Robin still keeps you around so...”

Beast Boy took a step back from the scene, the scent still of blood still lingering a little too strongly for his liking. And after watching Raven pull off something like that without so much as a moan or a grunt from the disc’s owner, he wasn’t so certain the victims were just napping anymore. He tried not to think too much about the potential fate of the person at his feet. He hated the possibility of pushing that boundary--even if they were ‘the bad guys’.

“You know, that actually wasn’t too bad,” Beast Boy said suddenly. His laugh was stifled and unconvincing, but he knew Raven wouldn’t likely acknowledge his discomfort, which was a bit of a relief in its own right. Regardless, he turned on his heel and made a purposeful decision to start walking away from the scene in hopes that she would naturally follow. Luckily, she did.

“The fight? Or having to be alone with you for more than five minutes?” She said, overtaking him by a step or two. “Because if you’re referring to the latter I’m gonna have to disagree.”

“I mean, but it works. We work. Sometimes,” Beast Boy said, though he was unsure why he was still talking. “It’s like...you know,” he droned on as they walked. “Like oil and vinegar.”

Raven noticeably began to slow her pace. “Like what ?”

“Oil and vinegar. You know. It’s like our flavor ,” Beast Boy said, making some attempt to clarify with a hand gesture.

It was here Raven stopped completely, turning to face him.

“ This ,” she said gesturing between them in return, “is not a flavor .”

Beast Boy shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well I still think it’s a good metaphor.”

“Why? Raven replied, mimicking his pose. “Because we can’t stand being together and naturally repel each other?”

“Buuuuut,” Beast Boy added pointedly, “sometimes when you put us together you get an affordable and delicious salad dressing.”

Raven paused. She closed her eyes, raising her hand to her temple in a deep, meditative stillness before opening her mouth to speak. “You know, sometimes I really wonder how I haven’t killed you by now. Even accidentally.”

Beast Boy frowned. “Just to be clear, you’re the vinegar in this situation.”

The two began to walk again, but Beast Boy only made it a few steps before Raven thrust a hand out in front of him, stopping him mid-stride. And this time it didn’t seem to be because of anything he’d said.

“What?” he blurted out stupidly. At least this time Raven would be able to understand him.

Raven was completely still for a moment longer, her eyes slowly scanning the area around them. “You didn’t hear that?” she said quietly.

“Hear what?” Beast Boy said, again the words feeling stupid and redundant the moment he uttered them.

“Something other than the sound of your own voice,” Raven said under her breath.

Beast Boy looked all around them, just as Raven had. But he didn’t see anything. Let alone hear anything out of the ordinary.

“You’re just being paranoid,” he said, lightly pushing her arm back down to her side. “There were only two of them. You saw on Robin’s map.”

Raven didn’t seem too comforted by the reminder.

Beast Boy moved slightly to meet her gaze, which was focused somewhere far off in the distance. “I’m tellin’ ya. Oil and vinegar.”

Then, with a little more force than he expected, Raven pushed pushed past him and began to walk again.

“Where are you going?” Beast Boy said, somewhat startled.

“Home.”

“Didn’t you wanna sweep the area first?”

“Not if it means twenty more minutes of this,” Raven said, waving her hand dismissively. “Besides, I’m just being ‘paranoid’.”

“Okay, well so much for working together then I guess,” Beast Boy said, rolling his eyes.

Raven shot him a look over her shoulder. Then, in an instant, she froze, eyes growing wide as she opened her mouth to say something.

But Beast Boy beat her to it.

He wasn’t sure the noise he made was completely human, even if the small blade twirling in the dirt just past him hadn’t completely hit its mark. He bit his lip to keep himself from another outburst. It had only grazed the side of his calf, but that was enough to bring him to one knee. He knew that if it had hit him the way it had been intended, he’d be on the ground.

Suddenly, everything around him was engulfed in shadow--and Beast Boy wondered if this was what people meant when they talked about ‘blacking out’. He really hoped that wasn’t what was happening. Not in front of Raven of all people. And not over a glorified paper cut .

A moment later, finding he was still very much conscious, Beast Boy was relieved to find that Raven was the source of the shadowy dome that now surrounded them on all sides. But the relief didn’t last long.

Beyond the opaque screen of darkness, there was a ceaseless blur of motion. Hundreds of tiny silver sparks rebounded off the outer edge, like hail raining down in a terrible storm.

Beast Boy glanced up at Raven from where he knelt on the ground. She was gritting her teeth, brow furrowed and eyes aglow. She didn’t so much as blink when he looked at her, which wasn’t a good sign.

He looked around frantically. Every direction depicted the same terrible scene. Every direction—except for one. It was only now that he noticed how soft the earth was underneath him. How the asphalt of the alleyways seemed to melt away as they worked their way toward the center of the courtyard. And that gave him an idea. An idea Beast Boy didn’t allow himself to think through.

There was something reassuring about being so close to the ground. But the transformation into a badger probably hadn’t been the best for his wound. His leg was starting to ache even more now, and he realized that would probably make digging all the more difficult.

But before he could test his hypothesis, a voice rang out over the crackling of bullets, clear and strong and demanding to be heard.

“Do you have a death wish?,” Raven yelled, her voice cutting above the static.

“What do you think?” Beast Boy said, instantly morphing back. The words came out as sharp as the blades whirling around them.

“Well I guess it’s a good thing gophers are bulletproof ,” Raven said with a laugh dripping with anything but humor.

“ Badgers . It’s a badger .” Beast Boy could feel the adrenaline pulsing in his veins like wildfire--even though he knew the reaction was unwarranted, especially given the more concerning matters at hand.

“Really bad time for an argument, Beast Boy. Really bad time,” Raven bit back.

For a split second, Beast Boy thought of going ahead with his plan anyway. Then it occurred to him that he’d probably already used up what little luck he had for the day.

“Okay, so what’s your bright idea?” he said, struggling to hide the growing annoyance in his voice. But all things considered, he really hoped she had one.

“Not dying. That’s my plan,” she said, shutting her eyes tightly.

Beast Boy looked around nervously--though he wasn’t sure what he was looking for.

“Can’t you just...teleport us out or something?” he said, biting his lip.

“Teleportation or force field. You get one .”

The second Raven spoke though, she was interrupted by a noise that overtook even the hammering of the bullets around them. The short metallic pings were swapped for one firework-like explosion, the ground beneath them trembling just enough to make Beast Boy second guess his balance. From the looks of it, their attackers hadn’t been so lucky.

The bullets raining down on them slowed to a drizzle--then seemed to stop completely after a few stray shots. But not because the remaining gunmen had ceased fire. Rather, the firing now seemed to be directed somewhere else entirely.

Before Beast Boy could figure out where everyone else had turned their attention, his own focus was redirected again as he felt something cold on his wrist. A hand, gripping onto him with what felt like an unnecessary amount of force.

Beast Boy felt the ground sway beneath him again uneasily until it disappeared completely, the hard dirt and asphalt replaced by rough gray concrete. When the scene before him came into a clear focus, his stomach lurched. With a primal desperation, he reached out, searching for the hand that had just let go of him. Now he was the one holding on like his life depended on it.

In front of him now was a perfect aerial snapshot of the pavilion. They had to be at least ten stories up, given the size of the figures below them.

“Um…”

Beast Boy looked up, heart still pounding, though he wasn’t sure the vertigo was responsible for the anxiety he felt now.

Raven was staring at him--or rather their hands intertwined--with a clear level of discomfort. What kind, Beast Boy couldn’t tell.

“You can let go of my hand now,” she said slowly.

Beast Boy flinched, releasing her hand from his own as quickly as he had grabbed it. His knuckles were stiff, flushed by the strain of his grip.

An awkward beat of silence passed between them, broken only when Raven turned to grab something from her pocket.

“What are you doing?” Beast Boy asked, terribly conscious of the slight crack in his voice.

“Calling Robin,” Raven replied, an audible ring echoing from the blood-spotted comms device now resting in her hand.

The two waited for another excruciatingly long moment until the ringing came to an abrupt, unanswered halt.

“I guess he’s busy,” Beast Boy shrugged. But something snagged in his stomach at the thought. Robin probably was very busy. But Beast Boy wasn’t sure he really believed that was why he hadn’t picked up. He took out his own pager anxiously, already flipping through the contacts on the main screen. “Lemme try Cyborg.”

The dial tone cut off after the first ring.

Raven paused for a moment then looked up at him. “I don’t even have a signal.”

Beast Boy looked down at the device in his own hand. Neither did he. “Huh. Well that’s...weird.”

“Yeah,” Raven said, a definitive frown forming on her lips. “And that’s not the only thing that’s a little weird.”

As she spoke, Raven stared down at the pavilion below them, unblinking. She seemed intently focused on...something. But Beast Boy wasn’t entirely sure that it was the fight happening on the ground. A fight that was becoming increasingly hard to follow, even for someone who was trying to keep up with it.

Beast Boy scanned the turf once, then again through the eyes of a hawk, hoping for a better view. Squinting beyond the cloud of dust, he finally was able to hone in on the action--and more importantly, their attackers’ new target.

The man stood out like a current rolling on a still sea. Rather than trying to dodge the attacks of his pursuers, he danced through the waves with an impossible accuracy, almost as if he were intentionally trying to attract their shots. And he did--like hungry flies to a show horse. Only he never seemed to get bitten. The flies bit themselves. They bit each other. Falling one after the other around him as they continued to follow him further and further away from the center of the pavilion.

Just before the man disappeared into the shadows of the opposite alleyway, Beast Boy finally caught a glimpse of his face amongst the swarming insects--his shiny black hair and toothless grin glistening in the artificial night.

#bbrae #bbrae fanfiction #beast boy teen titans #raven teen titans #dc #i still don't know how to properly use tags lol

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ktheist · 4 years ago

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saving grace | 5

muses. duke!yoongi x lady!reader

universe. arranged marriage / minor traces of magic in history

concept. driven into a corner with the new king, seokjin, offering to marry you off to a prince in a foreign land and a persistent mother who would seize the chance of a lucrative marriage for her daughter, you’re forced with the only other option to secure your freedom ‒ enter into a beneficial agreement with the man who reaped the seeds of war, the duke of cralon, yoongi min.

words. 6.7k

warnings. mentions of war, it’s cliche and cheesy all in one package

index. 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / finale

after your return from the min mansion, your mother, ever the loving parent, greets you at the door. her bright smile can be seen from miles away as she stands with her hands planted on her hips like someone who’s looking at her life’s worth investment.

“well?” she urges with an unfaltering smile.

“well?” you blink once, head lulling to the side as you stare at her for an explanation.

“don’t pretend to be ignorant,” she clicks her tongue but the contorted expression on her face is short lived as the smile returns, its force almost compelling you to take a step backwards, “did you two-”

“oh, ___, you’re back. i heard that you stayed the night at the duke’s.” your father, having emerged out of his office on the second floor calls for you and for some reason causes the woman in front of you to freeze as though haunted by guilt.

oh.

with a disarming smile, you wave at your father before recounting the reason you couldn’t go back right away after the party, “oh yes, it’s because mo-”

“i’m sure our daughter’s hungry, i’ll have the chef prepare something right away and in the mean time, we’ll be having tea in my parlor,” with that, the woman who has her hand clasped over her mouth whisks you away and into a narrow corridor right under where your father was standing.

huffing, she fixes you a displeased frown, “gosh, i only wanted to help my beloved daughter secure a good future!”

“mother!” hands planted on your hips, you fix your mother an incredulous look, “by getting rid of any other means for me to leave the mention in hopes i’d seduce the duke to sleep with me and get him to marry me quickly in fear for my being pregnant with an out-of-wedlock child?” your shoulder line are stiff as you watch your mother not even batting an eye at the issues arising within that narration and instead grins in approval at what seems to be a mutual understanding between a mother and a daughter.

“i knew you were smart!”

not wishing to burst her bubble of joy, you excuse yourself to your room, saying the fatigue of hosting a garden party hasn’t entirely left you just yet. fortunately, she the matter of whether you’ve spent the night in yoongi’s room has dissipated in the air as she wishes you a good rest before murmuring something about writing a letter to marchioness jung to invite her to tea or rather, to boast about the daughter that’s marrying the duke who’s several ranks higher than a count’s.

you wonder how she would react once your matchmaking succeeds and krystal ends up becoming a candidate as seokjin’s queen but you decide that your mother’s wounded pride would be a matter of a future that you need not yet concern yourself with.

“leslie, prepare to go to vivian’s.” you question as the maid pulls down on the zip of your dress and allow you to step out of it until you’re staring at the woman in a white underdress in front of the mirror.

“but my lady, that boutique is...” the woman trails off, eyes slanted to the ground in search for the proper words to describe the handiwork.

you’re not entirely sure why she’s against it either but if there’s anything leslie’s good at, it’s being meticulous in her tasks which includes making sure you don only the best clothes, “don’t worry, i won’t be buying the engagement dress there. i just wish to confirm something.”

with that, her eyes lights up and for some reason, the same way your mother does when she offhandedly commends your ability to think just now, “right away, my lady!” the beam doesn’t go away nor so much as falter throughout the ride.

“we’re here to see mademoiselle vivian for my lady’s engagement party,” leslie approaches the worker that greets you when you came in.

you don’t miss the stare shot your way as you study the dresses wrapped around the mannequins until his jaw drops, possibly from the realization of who you are, “r-right this way, lady ___.”

the room you’re brought in is furnished with leather couches and extravagant patterns on its walls and curtains that make you wonder if there is such a thing as illegally pairing colors together.

only the higher ranking aristocrats, namely those from count families and above, would be able to afford clothes made by mademoiselle vivian, a foreign woman from a country across the seas who moved to cearis in search for a lover she’d met and fell deeply in love with but up until now, she still hasn’t found said lover.

or so the story goes.

perhaps it was a selling point to catch the eyes of helpless romantics - rich ones at that. but either way, she’s proved her talent through her intricate designs that time and time again sets off a new trend when a fairly influential noblewoman goes to a gathering in the dress she makes.

it’s no secret that krystal is a loyal customer to vivian’s. but then again, it has more to do about her looks than the dresses she wear. not that it matters to vivian because she’ll be dropping names of noblewomen who ordered dresses from her to gain trust from new customers.

but you’re not here for that.

“are the designs not to your liking, lady ___?” the woman’s bespectacled eyes bore into you after you let out a troubled sigh, eyebrows pulling together as though in deep dilemma.

“no, no, they’re all beautiful,” you let your words hang in the air for suspense before setting down the catalog and turning your whole body towards the woman, “it’s just... i want something that makes a statement, you see.”

“a statement...” she echoes.

“something like...” you murmur to yourself while she echoes your very words a second later.

“...a dress that tells other ladies that they can’t compare without being loud!” you clap your hands together, pleased that you’ve found the words you’ve been searching for.

it takes a moment of the woman burning a hole into the catalog of her designs while you take a sip of the lavender tea. it’s harder to find such tea and fewer can afford it because of the limited import and the high tax rate imposed seeing as only well-off nobles would usually have them at homes.

“i see it now,” she seems to have returned from a walk down the rabbit hole of laces and ribbons, “i don’t usually recommend this since the ladies that come to my shop need a little bit of help standing out - and my dresses do just that but! i think simpler designs would fit you and enhance your beauty like lady jung.”

you mentally cheer at the mention of the name, adding in a blink of surprise, “do you mean... krystal?”

“oh yes, she has the beauty of a crescent moon. a mysterious allure that attracts men and women alike...” vivian drones on with glazed eyes as though she’s descended over to another realm where the walls are tower high and plastered with krystal’s portraits posing in different dresses and her cat-like eyes seem to move wherever one goes.

“...but it’s a shame that her engagement with duke gillmore’s son’s been cancelled!” she ends with a dejected sigh as her shoulder line falls.

“the engagement’s been cancelled?” the fruit of your visit is turning ripe by the second as you clasp a hand over your ‘o’ shaped mouth.

almost as though realizing her slip up, vivian’s own hand shoots up to her mouth but for a different reason than yours, “oh, i shouldn’t be telling you this that since it’s not officially announced yet,” she meets your gaze with a hint of sparkle in them, whatever remorse she felt for revealing what isn’t due, has dissipated into the air, “bit to think the dress i made specifically for her engagement party would not be seeing the light of the day! it pains me so!”

the gillmores are the fourth and last of the ducal houses with the mins being the first and strong supporter of the royal family for hundreds of years. understandably, only two of the houses bear marriageable heirs to the title but with yoongi taking on the name grim reaper, naturally marquis jung would never allow krystal to marry him which leaves duke gillmore’s son as the only available candidate.

that was... until the crown prince who was engaged to a foreign princess was heartlessly murdered by his half-blooded brother. judging from how objective driven krystal is, she must have her eyes set on a bigger price than becoming duchess of the gillmore’s dukedom. and coincidentally so, as vivian mindlessly laments, the engagement was said to be cancelled two months ago which is around the same time seokjin must have called her to have her spread the rumor about you and yoongi’s engagement.

“my lady, have you gotten what you came here for?” the woman sitting across from you in the carriage finally breaks the silence after loyally following your lead as you bid vivian a half-hearted farewell because ‘i’ve realized i can’t make decisions like this on my own! please have the catalogs to the min residence. i’ll review them with my fiancee once he gets back.’

“leslie,” you feel a smile bloom across your face, “we’ve got ourselves a queen.”

for the rest of the week, you find yourself swarmed with letters and invitations to more social gatherings. back then, when you were just a marquis’ daughter and not a duke min’s fiance, invitations have not been scarce yet they’ve never been this overflowing. white envelops with varying house seals litter the white table in front of the window each day. before you can even finish reading those that accumulated in the inbox yesterday, a new bulk would have gathered by the end of today.

so when you hear the knock on your door, you don’t even bother asking who it was, only a short, “come in.”

in your engrossment in reading a letter sent from irene, you fail to notice the lack of footsteps after the noticeable click of the door swinging open and then shutting until it’s too late.

a black gloved hand props itself on the table while another gently settles on your shoulder, a distinctive scent of mint filling your senses. but the husky voice drumming in your ears is no stranger to you,“you’ve been busy.”

“yoongi!” the letter almost slips out of your hand as you crane your neck to gaze into a familiar pair of crimson eyes. but the surprise is short-lived as you become unnervingly aware of how close your faces are, so much so, you can feel his hot breath on your lips.

judging from how he still has his cloak and the formal knight uniform, he must have rode straight to your mansion after entering the boarders of the dukedom. why he chooses to do so, you don’t wish to indulge in.

“w-welcome back, how was the-” the words die on your throat as the coolness of his gloved thumb grazes your bottom lip.

you barely register the delicate “i missed you, ___,” that’s spoken within the minute space between his lips and yours before he closes the distance.

you’ve known those pink lips were soft from the kisses he leaves on the back of your hand but having them on yours are a separate matter altogether. it feels almost unfair that he’s the one who initiated the kiss but wouldn’t go further than a feather light peck before he pulls away, almost as though he thinks you’d break under the slightest pressure.

the faintest smile graces his features as though content to have felt you, to know that you’re not a dream. but on your part, it’s not enough and it will never be once you’ve had a taste of what sweet sacrilege tastes like.

you don’t have the time to admire the way those usually unbothered eyes widen, taken aback as your arm wraps around his neck, locking him within a birdcage large enough for him to stretch his wings but too small for him to escape.

when you break apart for air, you indistinctly register the burning sensation on your lips until yoongi’s eyes slants over them, finger hooked under your chin as he apologizes, “i might’ve been too rough.”

you’re not quite sure what he means, choosing to ignore such statements because he was every bit gentle - passionate, is a whole different story that you rather not think about as you invite him to sit in the chair across from you but instead, he drags it around and plops next to you. your knee brushes against his from time to time but you rather like the feeling of having a part of him touching you one way or another.

“your mother led me to your room,” he says simply, “i assumed you’d been informed.”

almost as though your mother’s scheming smile is ingrained in your head, you barely bat an eye at yoongi’s words as you sarcastically mutter, “i’m sure it must’ve slipped her mind.”

when leslie comes in with snacks, her lingering stare on your face does not go unnoticed but her free smile allows you to shake off the matter almost instantly.

“the inspection resulted in a graver findings,” yoongi apprises, blood red eyes holding your gaze as his next words sends a spear piercing through your heart, “we found children in the basement of the granary. the count’s been involved in human trafficking - nobody knows yet and the knights won’t say a word but once i report this to seokjin, it’ll be the only thing the capital will talk about for awhile.”

no nobility has ever truly lived an honest and clean life. if one were to dig even just the surface of a noble family’s activities, it isn’t hard to find corruption, bribery and even explanation to murders but to have been involved with human trafficking...

the smiling faces of the orphanage not too far from your mansion, flash at the back of your mind. the children had been in the poorest condition the first time you met them. but over time, they’d gained strength from the supplies you’d brought monthly and would come running to you and seokjin whenever you visited. it’s been awhile since you saw them after seokjin’s coronation and the distribution of supplies had been done by the people from the palace with the help of the servants from your house. the circumstances has significantly improved over the year but the thought of someone going as far as exploiting young children, those who were supposed to be under his care and protection makes your stomach churn.

you should have known. should have looked deeper into the activities of that degenerate count-

“not matter how much resource you have, you couldn’t have seen this coming.” the arms that wrap around your body are warm as they pull you flush against a chest. you don’t even realize you have your hands clenched into fists and trembling for the longest time until your shoulder line sags and all the strength inside your body seems to seep out your pores. if yoongi hadn’t held you, you would have hit the ground. either because of unbridled rage or unadulterated hopelessness.

you’re not sure how long time has passed with him holding you in his arms, but you don’t allow yourself the time to mope around more than you should. when you pull away, yoongi seems to have already expect the words that come out of your mouth, “i’ll make sure he’s stripped of his title and so are the people around him who stayed quiet.”

“i don’t doubt your capability,” his thumb rubs circles on the back of your hand, “but that would mean punishing every single commoner in his territory.”

the sound of your gritting teeth drums in your ears as your jaw sores, “they probably didn’t have anyone to turn to when their own lord was behind the atrocities plaguing their village,” a lump forms in your throat, you can only imagine the state the children were found in.

a hand wraps around yours, thumbs smoothing over each of your palms, “you saved them. if you hadn’t thought to suggest the trade, we wouldn’t have a solid reason to inspect the park family’s territory.”

“it was all his doing- he burst out first,” you swallow thickly, “i just reaped the seed he planted.”

a sigh drums in your ears, forcing you to look up and meet the duke’s molten gaze as his shoulder line falls. almost as though he’s surrendering to a fight he knows won’t be in his favor, “no words i say can possibly lift the heavy burden off your chest.”

you don’t deny it.

“would you like to come with me to the palace? i’ll be heading there in three day’s time to report our findings to the king,” his eyes doesn’t seem to search through the windows of your soul, perhaps because he’s learned that he’ll reach a dead end - a wall of thorns. the only way he’ll ever figure you out is if you let him through.

but he at least knows your answer if he’s leaning back against the chair, almost as though he’s turning his back on the wall and chose to tread back to the direction he came from, “i’ll pick you up some time at noon.”

yoongi is reluctant to leave the mansion - or rather, you. the look in his eyes when he looks back at you before mounting his horse, reminds you of the puppy you had when you were a child. she would always rub her head on your leg whenever she saw you dolled up to leave for a party your mother was taking you to. as though begging you not to leave. but she’d always been the first to ligh up when she saw you alight the family carriage when you returned.

you find yourself stepping past the doors of the mansion where you’d intend to wave him off and coming to a stop a few feet away from the horse, “yoongi, can i visit you tomorrow?”

the faint smile breathes fire into your soul as those blood red eyes bore into you like a molten lava, “i was hoping you would. every single day until we get married, in fact.”

it is only after you watch the sleek black stallion disappear through the gates and into the streets, do you notice the maids who have gathered at the doors since the beginning. but their huddled forms as they swoon is the least of your concern.

“so something finally happened.” your mother gathers, nodding in approval as you walk past her with full intention to minimize the interaction - you’ve still not forgiven her for failing to alert you of yoongi’s arrival but even if you quiz her about it, she wouldn’t be able to see the wrong in her actions even if it’d slapped her in the face-

“was that your first kiss as a couple?”

whirling around on your heels, you feel the heat creep up your cheeks almost instantly, “mother! wh-what are you talking about? a-and in front of the maids at that!”

it seems that’s all the answer she needs as she laughs to herself, “dear daughter, i’ve been alive longer than you- you think i would believe you if you said that cut on your lips was from you walking into something?”

“what cut-” the memory of yoongi’s unsettling closeness floods your mind before his peculiar apology echoes in your ears, ‘i might’ve been too rough.’

five minutes later, after you all but sprinted to your room and made a beeline towards the mirror that stands a head taller than you beside your bed, does a bloodcurdling scream fill the recesses of the mansion.

“luckily, it’s just a minor cut, my lady,” leslie assures, her ever smiling features doing better to calm your rapidly beating heart and increasing bashfulness than your mother ever could.

you silently weep at the minute red line on your bottom lip. she’s right. it’s a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it sort of cut and barely stings as you lather a thin sheen of healing ointment the woman brought after you requested it.

“this is humiliating,” you announce, holding a half-hearted vendetta towards the man whose eyes occasionally glaze over your lips during his visit but choose not to say anything else besides a cryptic indication of his lack of self-restraint.

it takes a whole evening of refusing to have dinner at the dining room and a pity party for yourself with flower petals for the muscles in your body to finally relax.

“what of the report i asked you to gather?” you quiz, hearing the pitter patter of someone’s footsteps going around the bathroom.

“most of them come up with similar information - nothing my lady does not know,” leslie’s fluttery voice reverberates against the walls.

“as expected, i’ll have to ask consult seokjin,” the sound of your teeth gritting drums in your ears, “the thought of him getting so smug just because i had to go to him makes me nauseous.”

with the issue human trafficking coming to light, it seems you can’t go around investigating about the nobles as you please, nor can any of your maids be seen asking around about it. discussing the matter with seokjin and gathering the intel you both have to unravel the nobles’ hidden trails would be a more reasonable course of action since they’ll be on high alert of yoongi since he was the one who brought the crime to light. from now on, even your movements might be closely watched.

yoongi bursts into your room the next day in a similar manner - unannounced - with a sort of expression you can’t pinpoint.

“don’t tell me my mother-” at first, you’re just about ready to storm to your mother’s room like a child throwing a tantrum until yoongi refutes, “i let myself in, the countess wasn’t around and the butler was too powerless to stop me.”

it takes you a moment to register what you heard, an image of the old family butler flashing at the back of your head. perhaps, it’s because it’s been awhile since you’ve been on the receiving end of yoongi’s frightening glare that you forget just how terrifying it is.

you’re suddenly pulled out of your thoughts when a hand tilts your chin upwards, leaving you with no other choice but to study the yoongi’s handsome face as he inspects the cut.

“i’m sorry,” the ghost of his touch burns your skin as takes a seat in the chair next to you, “i should have been more gentle.”

silence stretches on for the longest moment as you gather your words and sort out your thoughts but most importantly, you make sure to sound nonchalant about it, “you don’t have to... i liked how you kissed me.”

your mistake is letting your eyes roam up to his at the low hum that escapes him. a smirk curls on his lips as he gazes at you with his head propped against his hand, “should we do it again?”

“th-that-!” you hastily reply only to stop dead as the words get stuck in your throat. averting your gaze to the italic writings on the paper, you murmur, “...i’m not opposed to the idea.”

true to your words, you too easily comply when his gloved finger twirls the end of the ribbon around your neck, pulling you to him until your lips meet. a familiar sense of butterfly bursts in your stomach as you savor the taste of something sweet like chamomile tea on his lips.

for the rest of the day, you spend it by walking down the same street you did when he whisked you away from a dreadful tea party held by your mother right after the rumor of your engagement was confirmed by you dancing together at the ball. except now, you’re wearing a black hat with a veil covering your almost healed lips.

the day you’re to meet seokjin, the carriage with the min crest rolls into your residence some time a little past noon. not matter how many times he’s shown his unfaltering interest towards you, you can’t help but be surprised. today, he’s donned in his black and golden yellow knight uniform, signaling the formal business he has with his the monarch of the kingdom.

he presses his lips to your gloved knuckles, murmuring a soft, “how have you been?” as if reserved only for you and him.

“better,” you say, holding in a chuckle when his blood rushes to his cheeks and paints them red at your next words, “now that you’re here.”

you don’t miss the way he peeks at something over your shoulder, possibly where your parents stand at the doorway you just passed through. the chuckle you’ve become familiar of and rings like chimes hits the air, “___, why don’t we quickly get into the carriage and away from the count and countess’ eyes?”

“careful, duke,” a grin spreads across your face, hidden underneath the fan you hold just below your cheekbones, “if one were to overhear, we’ll have a lot of explaining to do.”

and yet you don’t delay stepping into the carriage and plopping down next to the window where you can still see your father’s gentle smile that contrasts greatly with your mother’s deep frown.

“no! you absolutely will not go!” she hadn’t meant the palace - or perhaps, she did mean the palace since seokjin is the one who’ll ultimately decide whether you have permission to travel to-

“yoongi,” your fingers curl around the hand on your cheek, breath coming out heaved and eyes barely focusing as you pull away from the aforementioned man.

he doesn’t seem like he’s interested in a conversation but he’s not chasing after your lips either, almost as though his conscience is telling him to be the gentleman he’s raised to be and listen but the beast in his eyes is restless to continue devouring your lips.

so you go on, “i’m going to ask for seokjin’s permission to travel to the park family’s territory.”

the hand in your grasp remains still so does his entire body. the only indication that he’s affected at all is the way those crimson eyes widen with surprise, “what?”

almost as though belatedly registering the weight of your words a second later, he falls to the spot next to you, the legs cradling both your sides leaving you and even with these layers of clothes, you begin to feel the cold creep onto you, “sure,” he begins after what seems like a moment of pondering, “it’ll take a day at most to gather the knights but a royal notice takes at least three days to arrive-”

“i don’t need them... knights, royal notices... you might as well announce our arrival with horns,” you pause, studying the man’s gaze as it bores into you whilst you meet him head on. your deepset hesitance and worries still hovers over you like a haunting ghost, but you don’t want to keep any more secrets, “there’s something i need to tell you about my mother’s side of the family.”

your mother was from a nameless baron family. nobody truly knew them until she’d made her debut and started mingling with high society. just like you, she was the only daughter. the lineage was to end with her had it been just another penniless noble family.

“they run an informant group and call themselves the kairos,” the carriage shakes, as though trembling with fear at the mention of that name. you would have thought yoongi had known all along - that seokjin had told him, if not for the briefest twitch of his eye, “they supply information for anyone who’s willing to pay but keep an eye for those asking for information that could threaten the royal family - even though the queen was a noblewoman who married into the royal family, my mother, the leader then had been reporting to her up until...”

up until the bells that hung high in the tower at the entrance of the palace rung somberly that day.

all of a sudden, the sun that seemed to shine brighter than diamonds underneath the sky started shutting everybody out, including her husband and daughter. there were times when the door to her study was wedged open just the slightest bit. your mother who had noticed the creak of the hinges that needed oiling, wiped her tears and held her arms out for you.

the 10-year-old you didn’t understood what she meant when she promised she’d started living for you.

all you knew was, that was the point where she started becoming more present in your life. it took you another few years to learn that your family, greatly influenced by the countess rather than the count, had taken a full on neutral stance on the political matter and the rising rumor about the half-bred prince against the crown prince for the throne.

and a few more, after meeting said half-bred prince, to convince your mother to trust you for the decision you were about to make as the leader of kairos - to support seokjin as the next king no matter what it takes.

“i thought we eliminated scums like jimin as soon as seokjin took the throne but...” the words seem to be lodged in your throat, unable to slip past your lips.

yoongi heaves out a sigh, legs stretching over the space between the seat you’re on and the one across from it as he slumps against the cushioned backrest, silver hair brushing against his brows as crimson eyes stare at the cushioned ceiling, “so it was you? the one who tipped us about the king’s illegitimate son being sent to the battlefield?”

the war yoongi had been in had ceded faster than expected - though his victory was as sure as the ground you walk on. it was because yoongi and his men managed to single out the the warring king’s beloved son who he was forced to send to war because the palace had been a different battlefield that he still couldn’t fight, and held him as a war prisoner until the king surrendered.

“one of the enemy kingdom’s spy managed to infiltrate the palace and knew of our reputation from one of the maids who was sent by them since three years ago - we managed to dig out some information from him that not many outsider knew about before we eliminate him,” you muttered simply, the scream of the faceless spy had drummed in your ears and chilled you to the bones. unlike you who had to turn away in the last minute, seokjin had looked at the man’s eye whilst he thrust his sword into the spy’s gut.

he’d only sat on the throne for a month then but it was far from his first kill.

"when we first found the basement where the kids were held captive,” yoongi rasps somberly, “i was glad you didn’t come with - it wasn’t something i want engraved into your head.”

“i understand your wish to protect me from the viciousness of the world,” you slip your hand underneath the gap between his palm and knee, making him crane his neck to look at you, “i would’ve done the same thing even if you’d already seen them all at war but that protection we wish to cast upon each other only serves to paint a faux image of daisies and rainbows - an unrealistic euphoria.”

“your want to change things with your own hands will never cease, it seems,” he comments, crimson eyes clouded with a sort of reluctance yet he presses a kiss to your forehead, “we’re different in that aspect - you and i.”

“how so?” perhaps it’s the obvious question you’re asking the grim reaper that makes him laugh and flick your forehead right after he kissed it, perhaps it’s the childlike wonder but he explains it anyway, “you grasp fate at its neck and threaten to throw the entire world into chaos if it doesn’t let you decide your own path, and i...” callous thumb caresses your gloved knuckles, “...i follow mine with contempt and despise the goddess for the cursed blood that runs through my vein.”

“if it weren’t for that blood, i wouldn’t have considered striking a deal with you and end up marrying you,” your hand slips out of yoongi’s grasp only for it to wrap around his hand with your free one, “the blood that grants the power for its master to swing his sword and protect his kingdom could never be a curse.”

“that’s not what the rest of the world thinks,” he refutes, a dry laugh escaping his lips.

“does what the rest of the rest of the world think matter more than of those who actually know you?” you’re not sure of his answer. or if what you’re asking is even appropriate. the organ beating in your chest writhes with agonizing anticipation as the man’s crimson eyes bore into you like a liquid fire.

but if there’s anything you’re more sure of, it’s the fact that the servants at the min mansion has never shown a shred of fear while you worked with them to prepare for the garden party. the same couldn’t be said for the other noble families who were infamous for their ill treatment towards those who serve them.

grim reaper is but a name that does yoongi no absolute justice. he’s possibly the most dignified noble you’ve ever met.

“no - not anymore,” he murmurs, the faintest hint of smile curling on his lips as crimson eyes melt like ice come autumn.

he gathers you in his arms and you gladly let yours drape over his stomach, cheek pressing flush against his chest. you stay like that, in complete silence as the carriage shakes with each pebble and hole in the road, for the rest of the ride until it rolls to a stop in front of the palace walls.

“child trafficking is a serious crime,” seokjin speaks after a long, strenuous pause once yoongi finished reporting his findings within the park territory, “i bet park isn’t showing any sign of remorse, did he?”

a foreboding cloud hangs over the room as the man hunches over the oak table, elbows propped on its surface and clasped hands hiding half of his face. though he hides his expression well, you can see the way his shoulder line tremble with rage until he looks up at the silver haired man.

“actually,” yoongi’s lips press into a flat line as he seem to stare off into nothingness for the briefest moment before frowning, “he all willingly admitted that he’d committed the crime by himself.”

“what about his lackeys?” seokjin quizzes, fully aware that no lord does the dirty work.

“the dungeon was empty of save for the children - most likely they abandoned their lord for their own lives when they heard we were coming,” the head knight deduces.

a pause hovers over the as silence blankets the room.

“it’s suspicious no matter how you look at it.” your voice cuts through the air like knife.

“no man admits to his dirty crime just like that,” seokjin agrees and judging from yoongi’s knitted brows, he seems to know something you don’t.

“we didn’t believe it was that easy either but there was no proof of any other involvement besides the count,” he confesses - they must have raided nearby smaller granaries and questioned the people who you can easily guess, were tight-lipped.

“your majesty,” you take a step forward before dipping into a bow, an arm slanted over your chest as your hand clasps over the spot where your heart it, “i swear upon the honor of the leader of kairos, i will drag every last person involved in this to hell - please allow give me your permission to go to the park territory to investigate this matter further.”

this time, it doesn’t take long for seokjin to respond, “i was wondering why you didn’t storm over the moment you heard about the duke’s findings,” he leans back against his seat, eyes glazing with a ghost of the past, “love changes people, huh?”

“i-i’m not sure where you’re-” before you manage to barely calmly deflect seokjin’s ludicrous assertion, another voice speaks over you, forcing you to swallow the remaining of your words.

“your majesty, i ask your permission to escort lady ___ in her journey,” yoongi mimics your position in your periphery.

it takes a moment for his words to register and another for you to debate on the pros and cons of having a knight, bound to uphold the law, join you in a not so equitable quest for a justified cause.

yet you lower your head, “his grace will be my only other companion, your majesty. please allow it.”

but the answer you thought to receive isn’t one that he gives, “what about miss leslie? you always go with her.”

standing straight, you study seokjin’s deep frown before coming to a conclusion that you’ll probably never understand the man’s way of thinking even if you tried.

“i believe his grace will do a better job at guiding me since he’s been there before.” is all you say.

“this is unacceptable!” the sound of skin smacking a hard surface echoes against the wall, you have to resist to check if his hand is red from slamming it onto the table that hard, but he persists like without blinking, “an unmarried man and woman travelling together without servants... what would people think?”

“the question is, your majesty, why are you thinking anything would happen besides his grance and i working to unravel the people involved in this syndicate?” your voice takes on a dangerously low tone as you meet seokjin’s startled gaze.

“e-either way, i’m the king and i say jungkook will go with you,” he announces.

“y-your majesty? b-b-but-” the man in question’s head snaps in the king’s direction faster than you can blink. almost as though seeing a ghost, jungkook’s complexion pales instantly at the order.

“you’re sending the prime minister to do undercover work. outside of the capital, at that.” you point out in a matter of factly. as the silence stretches on, the more ridiculous the scenario seems to be but seokjin isn’t seokjin if he doesn’t try to refute you.

“he hasn’t taken the governmental examination yet,” he holds his chin high like that of a king.

“he’s been filling in for the prime minister anyway,” you challenge, refusing to back down as you hold the king’s equally defiant stare, “and it isn’t so kingly of you to stop your most loyal subjects from serving the kingdom - his grace and i going as leader of kairos and head knight to carry out your bidding, your majesty.”

it’s the jab at his position that makes his eye twitch. after having spent over five years by the other’s side, you know each other’s strengths enough to trust the other with your lives. but the downside is, you also know the other’s weakness like the back of your hand.

“ah, that’s true,” when his tone turns sweet and his shoulder line relaxes, yours stiffen as you narrow your eyes at the man’s sudden shift of personality - and true enough, you don’t like how he decides to take a jab at your- “since members of kairos have been decreasing and as a result, the guild barely have any influence outside of the capital, i suppose you would benefit from having yoongi come with you.”

he knows full well you hate relying on others because of your chest full of pride. yet you force on a smile that points in all the wrong anger, head lowering as you mechanically mutter, “thank you for your consideration, your majesty.”

note. and that is all for this chapter! (apparently we’re not having just 4 chapters + finale).

taglist. @fanfuckingfic @ayujmi @deathkat657

#bts smut #yoongi smut #bts x reader #yoongi fic #bts fic #bts fanfic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi scenarios #bts scenarios #bts imagines #yoongi imagines #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #bts x you #bts x yn #yoongi x yn

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dontcare77ghj · 4 years ago

Text

Diamond

Stucky x reader

Y/N L/N had been a part of the Avengers since it's conception. With her skills, she had been a valuable asset to the team. Y/N had been born a mutant.

Her powers had developed when she was very young. Originally it was believed that she only possessed the skills of telepathy until she reached her adolescent years. It was then Y/N found out she also she could transform herself into an organic diamond state.

Y/N had trained very hard to gain control over her abilities and it was because of how hard she'd worked, she'd been noticed by Nick Fury.

Nick had been keeping an eye on her at Charles Xavier's suggestion and in 2012 he'd asked her to join the Avengers initiative.

It was in 2012 Y/N met the team, but primarily, it was 2012 when she met Steve and Bucky.

The super soldiers. Captain America and the White Wolf.

Men who'd fought in the second world war saved millions of people and had been frozen in time.

It was 2013, when the two had caught up with most of what they missed, did they ask you out.

The three of you had been together for two years now. And life had settled. Sure the world still needed saving, but at least you had your boys now.

"Tony that's disgusting." Bucky sighed, leaning back into the couch.

"I'm just asking a question." He defended himself. "No need to scream at me."

"You're lucky Y/n doesn't throw you across the room." Natasha laughed.

"I'm tempted to, Stark. It's too early for these questions." You groaned, pouring yourself a large coffee.

"It's a simple question. Can you have sex in diamond form?" Tony asked again.

"Can I throw him against the wall? Just once?" You begged Steve.

"Let her do it, Steve," Bucky said as you sat next to him.

"I'm recording," Clint said, holding up his phone.

"As much as I'm for you using your powers, you can't throw Tony into a wall," Steve told you, causing you and Bucky to groan.

"Spoilsport." You said, leaning into Bucky's side.

"Mail call," Wanda announced, entering with a handful of letters and Vision carrying some boxes. "Here, Y/N," Wanda said, passing you a letter.

"Thanks, Wand." You smiled, placing your cup down to take the letter. Opening the letter you felt your blood turn to ice.

"Something wrong, doll?" Steve asked, regarding you in concern.

"It's from the Brotherhood." You said, reading the letter carefully.

"What like traveling pants?" Tony asked, opening his package.

"No, the Brotherhood is a mutant terrorist group." You told him. "They want to kill all humans."

"Oh, well that's not good," Tony said before yelping as Natasha hit the back of his head.

"There's a war coming." You swallowed harshly. "They plan to eradicate humans as well as any mutant, not on their side. They want me to fight with them."

"Is there an address?" Bucky asked, taking the envelope.

"Of course not." You scoffed, throwing the letter on the table. "Gods it's too early for this shit." You sighed, chugging the rest of your coffee.

"What are you going to do?" Natasha asked you.

"I'm going to make a call. Warn Logan and the rest of the X-Men, and I'm going to stay out of this." You told her. "Most mutants already think I picked a side when I chose to join the Avengers. I'm not exactly welcomed by most mutants with open arms."

An hour later you were back in the room you shared with Steve and Bucky, letter in one hand, phone in the other.

"Logan, please just be careful." You begged, running a hand through your hair. "These guys aren't playing around."

"I promise I will take this seriously," Logan assured you. "As long as you take care of yourself."

"I will. Let me know if you guys need help." You said before hanging up.

"Doll, are you okay?" Bucky asked, sitting behind you.

"You're worried about the letter aren't you?" Steve followed up.

"Not so much the letter." You said, moving into your boy's arms. "Just, worried about what the Brotherhood's going to start. Mutants are already hated. You remember how hard they tried to arrest me after New York and I helped save the city. It's taken years but we're finally, for the most part, somewhat accepted. If they start a war, we could all have to go back into hiding. I don't want to go back into hiding."

"Doll, we promise, if the Brotherhood starts anything we won't let anyone come after you. We won't let anyone take you and we won't let you go into hiding." Steve said, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"And if worst-case scenario, you have to go into hiding we'll be right with you," Bucky promised, squeezing your hand.

"I can't ask you to do that." You shook your head.

"You're not asking. And we're not taking no for an answer." Steve said.

"We're in this until the end of the line," Bucky told you, pressing a kiss to your neck.

"Until the end of the line." You repeated with a smile.

It had been three weeks since the first letter. In that period you had received twelve more letters, each increasing in threat. The first few were offers for you to join and as you continued to ignore them they were no longer offers.

They were threats. Threats to your friends, your family, your boys, and to yourself.

There was no way to track where these letters were coming from, and there was no way to find them.

"I'll be fine you two. And I won't be alone, Kitty's coming with me." You said to Steve and Bucky as you pulled on your heels.

"And we trust Kitty, we like Kitty, but are you both sure going out is a good idea?" Steve asked.

"It is the middle of the day, we're going to a restaurant and we're both powerful mutants. Nothing's going to happen." You assured him.

"We could trail you if you want. Keep our distance, keep you safe." Bucky offered.

"A thoughtful gesture, but it's a no from me." You said, kissing his cheek. "I've been cooped up in this tower for weeks, and I've had enough. I won't even be two blocks away." You laughed, sitting on the brunette's lap.

"Okay doll. We know we're being a little overbearing. We just worry." Steve said, putting his hand on your knee and squeezing it.

"You shouldn't worry so much, you're going to get wrinkles." You teased him, poking your index finger between his eyes.

"Yeah, you old man. You're going to start looking like a prune." Bucky teased the blonde.

"You're older than me." Steve pointed out.

"Well, I think you both look great." You said, kissing Bucky and then leaning over to kiss Steve.

"Are you sure you have to go out?" Bucky asked once you and Steve pulled apart.

"Yep." You said, jumping off his lap. "In fact, Kitty's on her way up now." You added, grabbing your bag.

Tease, Bucky thought.

"I heard that, Buck." You smiled, walking back over to the two.

"You were supposed to," Bucky said, standing to embrace you. "Just be careful, for us." He begged.

"Always." You promised as Steve pulled you into his arms.

"Y/N are you ready?" Kitty asked as the elevator doors dinged. "Don't make me come in there."

"Keep your pants on." You called back. "I'll be back soon. I love you." You told the two.

"Love you too, sweetheart." They responded in unison.

"We should get dessert," Kitty said, skipping beside you.

"And pump you full of sugar, no way. Logan will kill me if I send you back hyper." You laughed.

"Logan wouldn't kill you, you're like his kid." Kitty waved you off. "I know this fantastic ice cream place. It's right around the corner."

"Fine but if you piss off Logan, let it be known I was against this." You said, causing her to giggle.

Kitty took your hand and began to lead you down the street. The two of you were deep in conversation and you almost didn't notice as she led you down an alley.

"Kitty, what are you doing?" You asked the woman, yanking your hand out of hers. Focusing on Kitty's brain signals you reached into her head. It was strange, it was as if there was a low humming coming from her mind.

"Kitty's a bit checked out right now." A familiar voice said from behind you. Instantly you spun around and shifted into your diamond form.

"Jean, I see you've changed sides." You commented, narrowing your eyes at her figure.

"I wouldn't exactly put it like that." She said, walking towards you.

"Do you prefer the term traitorous bitch then?" You asked her, eyes darting between her and Kitty.

"It doesn't have to be like this Y/N." Jean sighed. "We could do great things with you on our side."

"You want to kill half the world's population. You want to use me to do that and you've fucked with my friend's brain. Sorry Jean, but it's a no from me." You told her, discreetly reaching for your phone and pressing the button Tony had installed.

"It wasn't really a question, Y/N. It just would have been better if you said yes." She sighed. "Sabertooth." She called. Within seconds the alleyway darkened and Sabertooth stood before you.

The brooding hulk of a man launched forward with his hands outstretched. You dodged his grip and picked up a dumpster before hurling it at him.

You were putting up a decent fight until you felt a hand grip your shoulder and you sunk into the ground.

A startled gasp left your mouth as you were sucked halfway into the Earth. Looking up you noticed more people had joined the four of you in the alley.

"I take it you're Sebastian Shaw." You said, attempting to free yourself.

"And you're Y/N L/N. I'm sorry it's taken us this long to meet, but we'll have plenty of time to be acquainted." He said as Kitty and Sabertooth freed you. "You can drop your diamond form any time you wish."

"And free me to have my head fucked with by that traitorous bitch? Fuck off." You rejected him.

"We'll see how long that lasts," Sebastian smirked.

Non-Reader POV

The tower had become quiet after Y/N left. The world didn't need saving and it seemed even petty villains were taking the day off.

Everyone was lounging around the common floor and just enjoying their time off.

Until a loud, blaring, siren began to repeatedly ring.

"What is that Stark?" Clint yelled over the noise, turning down his hearing aids.

"That's what happens when you press the button on your phones," Tony yelled back. "J.A.R.V.I.S. who's distress signal is that?"

"The signal is coming from Miss L/N's phone," J.A.R.V.I.S. responded, turning off the alarm.

"What's happening to Y/N?" Bucky demanded.

"J.A.R.V.I.S locate Y/N's signal and hack into any security cameras in the area," Tony ordered. J.A.R.V.I.S. took a second before he brought up a grainy security feed on the T.V.

"Is this live?" Steve demanded, jumping to his feet.

"Yes, Captain Rogers," J.A.R.V.I.S. responded.

"Send the location to my phone," Steve said as he and Bucky made to leave the room.

"It's a bit late for that," Natasha said before they could leave the room. Steve and Bucky turned around in time to see a red man appear on the screen before disappearing. Along with everyone.

Along with Y/N.

"Fuck," Bucky growled, punching his metal hand through the wall. Before he could destroy any more property Steve took his hands in his.

"Tony, is there any way you can track them?" Steve asked without turning back to the billionaire.

"I can't," Tony admitted, shaking his head. "I'm sorry."

"You can't, but I can," Natasha said, pulling out her phone. "Logan, this is Natasha Romanoff. We need your help."

"I'm trying! This isn't easy!" Rouge snapped at Tony who raised his hands and backed away.

"Alright everyone, let's just take a ten-minute break. Everyone is too stressed." Storm said. "Bobby please take our guests to the kitchen and Rouge breath."

It had been two weeks since Y/N and Kitty had been taken. There had been no contact from the brotherhood and no-one even knew if they were alive.

The Avengers combined with the X-Men had been working as hard as they could to track down their missing friends but after two weeks of zero results, everyone was beginning to lose it.

"We're sorry about Tony," Steve said as he and Bucky walked with Storm.

"We know he can be a lot on a good day." Bucky apologized.

"Trust me, I understand large egos. I live in a house of mutants who all believe their powers are superior to each other." Storm laughed. "At least we're making progress."

"If you count progress as not finding anyone but finding out where they're not, then yeah. I suppose we're making progress." Bucky said.

"Progress is progress." Storm shrugged.

"Storm," Logan said, rounding the corner. "Where'd Rouge go?"

"She mumbled something about needing a smoke." Storm told him. "A habit she picked up from you, I assume."

"As long as she leaves mine alone, I don't care what she does." Logan shrugged, moving past them to find the girl.

"I apologize for Logan. He's not taking Kitty or Y/N's kidnapping well." Storm said as they continued walking. "Or Jean's defection."

"I wouldn't think he'd take it any other way," Steve assured her. "From what we understand they were very close."

"Close is one way to describe them." Storm chuckled. "Logan might as well be her father. He's the one who found her after all."

"Y/N never mentioned that," Bucky said, furrowing his brow.

"That sounds like Y/N. She never did like talking about how she joined us."

"Could you tell us exactly how Y/N came here?" Steve asked the woman.

"I wasn't here when Logan brought Y/N back, but from my understanding, he found her in the forest. She was five and her parents had left her to die in that forest." Storm explained.

"If I ever find those fuckers, I'm going to stick my claws in their head," Logan said, appearing behind them. "Rouge wants everyone back." He added before walking off.

"He's very blunt." Storm laughed. "You're lucky he likes you two."

Reader POV

A week after being taken.

"You're killing yourself, Y/N." Jean sighed, entering your cell.

"Like you fucking care, Jean." You scoffed, refusing to face the woman. "You're the reason I'm here."

"I don't have to be the reason you die." She said, stepping towards you. "Drop your diamond form Y/N. Your stubbornness is going to be the death of you."

"You and I both know, this isn't going to kill me. I don't have to eat, sleep, drink, or breathe in this form. I'm unbreakable and you can't read my mind." You said, finally turning to face the redhead.

"You're not unbreakable, no-one is." Jean rolled her eyes.

"I am unbreakable." You insisted. "And there's nothing you or your little friends can do about that."

"We'll see about that," Jean said, spinning around and slamming the door behind her.

You waited a minute before you turned back to the barred window and resumed your attempts of freedom.

You'd get out of here. And you'd save all those Jean and the Brotherhood had trapped inside their heads.

Two weeks.

"Normally, I would like to say I am a rational man. A man who follows his beliefs to a T, but you are really testing my patience." Shaw said, pacing in front of your still diamond form.

You had been the Brotherhood's prisoner for two weeks. You had attempted escape three times, only to be thwarted at every turn. The Brotherhood may have thought breaking you would be easy, but you got your stubbornness from Logan Howlett.

It had been two weeks of you being trapped in your diamond form. You hadn't slept, hadn't eaten, hadn't done anything except attempt to escape and deny your kidnapper's requests.

You knew if you were to drop your diamond form at any point, Jean would play with your head as she had done Kitty's and so many others.

"I've been known to do so." You murmured, eyes closed as you attempted to meditate.

"This isn't funny anymore," Shaw growled, storming forward and grabbing you by the throat. He pulled you from the ground and held you off the floor.

"It wasn't funny to begin with." You said not even struggling against his grip. "Face it, Shaw, you wanted power by using me but you underestimated how powerful I am." You mocked him.

"I will give you one last chance to join us on your own terms," Shaw said, looking you dead in the eyes.

"Are we done here? Because I'm done hearing that sentence every day." You rolled your eyes.

"After today you won't hear it again." He said, throwing your body across the room. "Sabertooth." He called.

Within a second the large mutant filled the doorway and darkened the cell.

"It's time," Shaw said, stepping aside for Sabertooth to enter. Sabertooth lumbered towards you and raised you from the ground.

You struggled fiercely against the hairy man's grasp but he merely tightened his hold as he followed Shaw down the hall.

"You see, Miss L/N, I am usually against harming one of our kind. But this is for the good of our kind, so I think my conscience will be fine." Shaw said, opening a series of doors.

"Oh good for you." You groaned, still struggling.

"I've been doing some research. Your diamond form is fascinating. Fourteen days without rest or nutrition? It's impressive." He commented. "You're nearly unbreakable."

"I am unbreakable, but it's sweet you find me so interesting." You rolled your eyes.

"Diamonds can be broken." Shaw continued as if uninterrupted. "It just takes a lot of pressure. For you, it takes a lot more pressure." He told you, opening a door to reveal what looked like an operating theater.

"Oh fuck." You whispered, struggling harder than before. If you been in your normal form, Sabertooth would have crushed your organs. "You fucking let me go you piece of mutated shit!" You yelled.

"I did a lot of research for this experiment, Y/N, I'd thank you to participate," Sebastian smirked.

Despite your struggles and attempts at escape, Sabertooth managed to strap you down to the medical bed.

"The straps are made from vibranium, even your boyfriends wouldn't be able to get out of it." He told you. "And this," He said, pressing a button causing a drill to lower above your prone body. "Is the strongest diamond drill known to man."

"It's not going to work, Shaw." You snapped at him. "You're going to lose."

"With you on my side, I think I'm going to win." He grinned, pressing another button causing the drill to turn on and continue to lower.

Directly above your heart.

"You have a choice here. Join us and I will turn the drill off, sparing either of us the knowledge as to whether it will work. Or, you can continue to fight and we'll see if you die or turn back. The choice is yours."

"Go fuck yourself." You growled, unable to move an inch of your body. You did not notice how quickly the drill had lowered until it was piercing your diamond form.

A shrill scream left your throat as the drill punctured your diamond form. You could feel and hear, the rest of your body beginning to crack as the drill continued to lower.

The sound of the door being thrown off its hinges attracted your attention but you couldn't see past the drill.

You could hear Shaw yelling in fear and pain, Sabertooth growling and your name being screamed.

The drill turned off as you felt your diamond form begin to falter. The pain began to set in and you began to dry sob as the drill was raised.

"I got you, doll." A voice near your ear said as your straps loosened. "I got you," Steve repeated as you looked up.

"Steve." You gasped as you tried to sit up. A yelp escaped you as you attempted to move.

"Lay down, doll," Steve pushed you back. "It's okay, I'm here. Buck's here, Logan's here. We're going to get you out."

"I can't move." You gasped. "I can't shift back, I can feel the damage." You winced.

"It's fine we're going to deal with this. Buck!" Steve called, cutting the rest of your straps. "She's breaking and can't shift back."

"My heart hurts." You whimpered, looking up at the brunette.

"That's okay, doll. We're going to get Banner to set up the medical on the jet. We're going to get you out." He promised you, pressing a kiss to your cold forehead. "Can you carry her and throw that thing?" He asked Steve.

"I'll carry her." Logan cut in, sheathing his claws. "Sorry, kid." He said, gently lifting you causing you to cry out.

"Did you find Kitty?" You whispered to Logan as the four of you ran towards an exit.

"We got her kid. She's okay." Logan told you, causing you to sigh happily.

The four of you made it back to the jet with no incidents and you saw both your families waiting for you all.

Hank and Bruce had set up a medical area and were waiting for the four of you.

Logan gently laid you down on the table they set down and you winced as you heard your skin crack once more.

"Christ Y/N." Hank cursed, assessing the damage. "You need to shift back if you want to heal these cracks." He told you.

"I can't." You shook your head. "They had a diamond drill. Drilled into my heart. It went through." You gasped.

Bruce and Hank began to discuss ways they fix the damage without killing you.

“You need to stay in this form until we get back to the tower.” Bruce told you. “We’re going to have Cho set up the cradle and when we get back you have to drop your diamond form, okay?”

“Okay.” You nodded. Bruce and Hank stepped aside and Steve and Bucky took their places, each taking one of your hands.

“Hey, doll.” Bucky smiled, pressing hips lips to yours.

“Hi, Buck.” You smiled weakly. “You look tired.”

“That’s rich coming from you.” He smiled at you gently.

“You’re not wrong. I feel like absolute shit.” You groaned.

“That’s alright. We’ll take care of you when we get back. You’re not leaving the bed for a couple of weeks.” Steve smiled, kissing your hand.

“Sounds fun.” You smirked.

“That’s not going to happen for a while.” Steve shook his head as Bucky chuckled.

The jet landed back at the tower what felt like minutes later. Helen and her team pushed their way onto the jet and began to roll the table off the jet.

“Y/N we need you to drop this form.” Helen said as you were rushed to the infirmary. Weakly you gave the woman a nod and with more effort than normal you dropped your diamond form for the first time in two weeks.

A strangled gasp escaped your lips as the pain to your normal self set in. The last thing you remembered before you lost consciousness was the table moving faster and Helen began to bark orders.

“Hey kid.” Logan greeted, entering your room.

“Hey Logan.” You smiled, sitting up in the bed, not disturbing a sleeping Steve next to you.

“Want me to come back later?” He asked, gesturing to Steve and Bucky who were curled around you.

“No you’re fine. These two sleep like the dead.” You told him as he sat in the chair next to the bed. “I missed you Logan.” You said, taking his hand.

“I missed you too, kid. I thought we lost you for a minute there.” He admitted.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily. I’m your kid.” You laughed.

“How’s the heart?” He asked, pointing a finger in your hearts area. “Gonna give you any grief?”

“No, cradle fixed most of it. Healing factor will do the rest.” You told him.

“You scared me kid.” Logan told you. “I thought you were going to die for a minute there. You’re like my kid, don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You won’t have to think about that for a while, Logan. I’m not going anywhere.” You smiled, squeezing his hand. “I’ll always be here.”

“I’m proud of you, Y/N. You’ve always made good choices. You’ve saved the world a couple times and you picked some good partners.” He chuckled, gesturing to the sleeping men. “You’ve grown so much since I found you in that forest.”

“You’ve changed too, Logan. You’ve done some good things too.” You told him.

“Best I ever did was raise you.” He said. “I love you kid.”

“I love you too, dad.” You told him, causing the man to smile wider than you’d ever seen.

Sitting in that hospital bed, you had never been happier. You had your boys with you, you had your father and you had your family in this tower. You were alive and that’s all that you needed.

Taglist

@rvgrsbrns @smilexcaptainx @hopingforbarnes @starlingelliot @piper-koko-barnes-rogers @jelly-fishy-babie @skeletoresinthebasement @agent-barnes40 @reann-loves-sebstan @skadikh

Coming soon

Dean x reader x Cas

Bucky x reader x Natasha

Meg x reader x Cas

Wanda x reader x Vision

Steve x reader x Bucky x Peggy

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thewidowsghost · 4 years ago

Text

The Unknown Muggleborn - Chapter 4

3rd Person POV

"There, look."

"Where?"

"Next to the tall kid with the red hair."

"Wearing the glasses?"

"Did you see his face?"

"Did you see his scar?"

Whispers follow Harry from the moment he and Ron left their dormitory the next day. People lining up outside classrooms standing on tip-toe to get a look at him. Harry wishes they wouldn't, because he was trying to concentrate on finding his way to classes.

There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then there were the doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything was, Harry thinks, because it all seems to move around a lot. The people in the portraits kept going to visit each other, and (Y/N) and Hermione were sure that the suits of amour would walk.

The ghosts didn't help, either. It was always a nasty shock when one of them glided suddenly through a door you were trying to open. Nearly Headless Nick was always happy to point new Gryffindors in the right direction, but Peeves the Poltergeist when you were late to class. He would drop wastepaper baskets on your head, pull rugs from under your feet, pelt you with bits of chalk, or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose, and screech, "GOT YOUR CONK!" The only person that Peeves seemed to get along with was, strangely, (Y/N). When she would pass by him in the halls, he would ask how her day was going. The first time, (Y/N) was shocked, looking surprised at the poltergeist, then she nodded saying, "Uh, its going pretty well."

Even worse than Peeves, Harry thinks, if that was possible, was the caretaker Argus Filch. Harry and Ron manage to get on the wrong side of him on their first morning. Filch found them trying to force their way through a door that unluckily turned out to be the entrance to the out-of-bounds corridor on the third floor. He wouldn't believe they were lost, he was sure that they were trying to break into it on purpose, and was threatening to lock them in the dungeons when they were rescued by Professor Quirrell, who was passing by.

Filch owned a cat called Mrs. Norris, a scrawny, dust-colored creature with bulging, lamp like eyes just like Filch's. She patrolled the corridors alone. Break a rule in front of her, put just one toe out of line, and she'd whisk off for Filch, who'd appear, wheezing, two seconds later. Filch knew the secret passageways of the school better than anyone – except perhaps the Weasley twins – and could pop up as suddenly as any of the ghosts. The students all hated him, and it was the dearest ambition of many to give Mrs. Norris a good kick. Marvel, (Y/n)'s black and white kitten had taken to attacking the dust colored feline whenever she had the chance.

Then, once you manage to find them, there were the classes themselves. There was a lot more to magic, as Harry quickly found out, than waving your wand and saying a few funny words.

(Y/N) enjoyed Wednesday nights where they went out to the tallest tower and learned the names of different planets and stars. Three times a week they went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, with a little witch called Professor Sprout, where they learned how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi, and found out what they were used for.

Easily the most boring class, in (Y/N)'s eyes, was History of Magic, which was the only one taught by a ghost. Professor Binns hand been very old when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff room fire and got up the next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Binns droned on and on while the students scribbled down names and dates, and got Emeric the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up. Hermione had told (Y/N) that she actually liked the class, and (Y/N) looked down at her.

"Honestly, Hermione," (Y/N) teases, "I'm not surprised."

One of (Y/N)'s favorite classes so far had to be Charms. Professor Flitwick was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. At the start of their first class, he took the roll call, and when he reached Harry's name, he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight, (Y/N) rolling her eyes.

Professor McGonagall was again different. Harry had been right to think she wasn't a teacher to cross. Strict and clever, she gave them a talking-to the moment they sat down in her first class.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she tells them. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Then, she changes her desk into a pig and back again. They were very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon they realized that they weren't going to be changing the furniture into animals for a long time. After they take a lot of complicated notes, they were given a match and told to start turning it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione Granger, and (Y/N) (L/N)-Granger had made any differences to their match. Professor McGonagall shows the class how they had gone all silver and pointy and gives the two a rare smile.

The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell's lessons turn out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, hand been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren't sure they believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnegan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell goes pink, and starts talking about the weather. For another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went.

Harry was relieved to find out that he wasn't miles behind everyone else. Lots of people had come from Muggle families and, like him, hadn't had any idea that they were witches and wizards.

There was so much to learn that even people like Ron didn't have much of a head start.

Friday was an important day for Harry and Ron, the two had managed to find their way to the Great hall for breakfast without getting lost once.

"What have we got today?" Harry asks Ron as he pours sugar on his porridge.

"Double Potions with the Slytherins," Ron answers. "Snape's Head of Slytherin House. They say he always favors them – we'll be able to see if it's true."

"Wish McGonagall favored us," says Harry. Professor McGonagall was the head of Gryffindor House, but it didn't stop her from giving them a huge pile of homework the night before.

Just then, the mail arrives. Harry had gotten used to this by now, but it had given him a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners, and dropping letters and packages onto their laps.

Hedwig hadn't brought Harry anything so far. She would sometimes fly in to nibble his ear and have a bit of toast before going off to sleep in the owlery with the other school owls. This morning, however, she flutters down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and drops a note onto Harry's plate. Harry tears open the letter at once, and it says, in a very untidy scrawl:

Dear Harry,

I know you get Friday afternoons off so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Hedwig.

Hagrid

Harry, borrowing Ron's quill, scribbles, Yes, please, see you later on the back fo the note, and sends Hedwig off again.

(Y/n), who was sitting across from Harry and Ron, and between Hermione and Fred Weasley, had just received a letter herself.

Dear (Y/n),

My name is Remus Lupin. You mother named me as you godfather, and I was good friends with both your mother and Harry Potter's parents when I was at Hogwarts.

I left you a box of presents and letter in you Gringotts vault, in a large wooden box. I didn't know if you had picked it up or not, but I decided that it was time that I sent you a letter at school. I hope you're doing well.

Love,

Uncle Remus

At the start-of-term banquet, Harry got the idea that Professor Snape disliked him. By the end of the first Potions lesson, he knew he'd been wrong. Snape didn't dislike Harry – he hated him.

Potions lesson took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.

Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call and like Flitwick, he pauses at Harry's name.

"Ah, yes," he says softly, "Harry Potter, our new – celebrity."

Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle snigger behind their hands. Snape finishes calling the names and looks up at the class. His eyes were black like Hagrid's, but they had none of Hagrid's warmth. They were cold and empty and made (Y/N) think of a dark tunnel.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," the Potion Master begins. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word – like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses. . . . I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death — if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

More silence follows this little speech. Harry and Ron exchange looks with raised eyebrows. Hermione and Iliana were on the edges of their seats and Hermione looks desperate to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead.

"Potter!" says Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Powdered root of what to an infusion of what? Harry glances at Ron, who looks as stumped as he was; Hermione, Iliana, and (Y/N) had all raised their hands.

"I don't know, sir," Harry says.

Snape's lips curled into a sneer.

"Tut, tut – fame clearly isn't anything."

He ignores Hermione and (Y/n)'s hands, his gaze flicking between Harry and (Y/N)'s hand.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?" Snape asks.

Hermione's hand stretched higher into the air, as far as it would go without her leaving her seat and (Y/N) leaves her hand into the air.

Harry didn't have to faintest idea what a bezoar was. He tried not to look at Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were shaking with laughter.

"I don't know, sir," Harry answers.

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?" Snape taunts, (Y/N) frowning slightly.

Harry forces himself to keep looking into Snape's cold, dark eyes. He had looked through his books at the Dursleys', but did Snape expect him to remember everything in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi?"

Snape was still ignoring Hermione's hand, still glancing between Harry and (Y/N).

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?" Snape asks, and (Y/N) and Hermione's hands remained in the air, Hermione standing up, her hand stretching towards the dungeon's ceiling.

"I don't know," says Harry quietly. "I think Hermione and (Y/N) know, why don't you try them?"

A few people laugh; Harry catches (Y/n)'s eye, and she winks at him. Snape however was not pleased.

"Sit down," he snaps at Hermione, "(L/N), answer the questions," Snape says, his head snapping to look at (Y/N).

(Y/N) straightens her back, clears her throat. "Monkshood and wolfsbane are the same plant, but they also go by aconite. A bezoar is a stone taken from a goat that will save you from most poisons, and asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so strong that it is called the Draft of Living Death." (Y/N) rattles off, Harry and Ron exchanging shocked looks.

"Correct, ten points to Gryffindor," Snape says to (Y/N), before snapping at the other students, "Well, why aren't you coping that down?" There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment, and over the noise, Snape says, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor because of Potter's cheek." At this, (Y/N) turns around from her place in front of Ron, and smiles sympathetically at him.

Things didn't really improve much for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape set the first-years into pairs and set them to mixing a potion to cure boils, sweeping around in his black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush shake fang, criticizing everyone but Malfoy and (Y/N), whom he seemed to like. He was just telling everyone to look at how well (Y/N) had stewed her horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing fills the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools wile Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moans in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

"Idiot boy!" snarls Snape, clearing the potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpers as boils start popping up all over his nose.

"Take him up to the Hospital Wing," Snape snaps at Seamus. Then he rounds on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville.

"You – Potter – why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd made you look good if helot it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."

Harry thinks this is so unfair, he opens his mouth to argue, but Ron kicks him from behind their cauldron.

"Don't push it," Ron mutters as (Y/N) turn around to look at him, "I've heard Snape can turn very nasty."

As the first years climb the stairs out of the dungeon an hour later, Harry's mind was racking and his spirits were low. He'd lost two points for Gryffindor in his very first week – why did Snape hate him so much? At least (Y/N) had won those ten points for Gryffindor.

"Cheer up," Ron tells Harry, "Snape's always taking points off Fred and George. Can I come and meet Hagrid with you?" he asks.

(Y/n)'s POV

Hermione and I are walking up from the dungeons behind Harry and Ron after the end of Potions Class.

"I noticed something strange," Hermione says.

"What?" I ask.

"Professor Snape seems to like you a lot," Hermione says, looking at me with her brown eyes.

"That was kind of weird," I agree, looking forward, then back at Hermione.

"Maybe he was wondering how you got to be so good at Potions," Hermione suggests. "You were the only one of us with a perfect potion."

"Yeah, that must have been it," I say as we enter the Great Hall.

After lunch, the two of us walk outside to sit by the Black Lake. I see Ron and Harry walking down to Hagrid's Hut, and I hear a faint barking coming from the same direction.

"Hello (Y/n)," comes one, well two, voices.

I look up to see the Weasley twins standing above me and my sister.

"Hey Fred, George," I answer cheerfully.

"Whacha first years doing out here?" Fred asks.

"Well, the first week of school is over," Hermione begins, her frizzy hair blowing in the wind.

"So we're enjoying the last of the summer air," (Y/n) finishes for her sister.

"(Y/n), we have a question for you," George says.

"What?" I ask curiously.

Fred and George look at each other before saying in unison, "Do you like funeral marches.

Hermione bursts into laughter at the question, and Fred and George sit down beside the two of us.

"Well, of course," I say, grinning. "It's my favorite song," I begin to hum a slow funeral march, and the Weasley twins join in, Hermione exchanges a look with me, shrugs, then joins in.

Word Count: 2887 words

Well, I'll see you see on the next chapter.

See y'all!

Love,

Kaitlynn ❤️😍

#hermione granger #hermione granger x sister reader #harry potter various x reader #harry potter #ron weasley #fred weasley #george weasley

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carolmaximoffs · 4 years ago

Text

cherry wine

summary: he should end it, you both know it. you wonder what’s so magnetic about her that bucky can’t stay away, even when he’s always crawling back to you, beaten in more ways than one.

pairings: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: angst. mentions of sex. reference to domestic abuse. 18+ please.

a/n: i’ve been listening to this song a lot and i knew i wanted to write something to it so here’s a lil something while i avoid work. also - the bucky fandom rlly hates on dot but i didn’t feel like coming up w a name

“She...she slept with him again,” Bucky moans from the other end of the line. He’s beside himself again, all over a bitch who calls herself Dot and can’t keep her legs closed to save her life. You sigh, phone squeezed precariously between your shoulder and ear as you grab your keys. “I don’t...I don’t know what to do. She promised, Y/N, she promised and...and-“

You shush him as soothingly as possible. Driving to his place is almost something you can do in your sleep, now. Dot had gone out with her girlfriends, and apparently wasn’t planning on coming back tonight. “I know, Buck, I know. I’m sorry.”

You’d given up a long time ago trying to convince him to leave her. First he’d made excuses. Then he’d claimed he would. Eventually, he started getting pissed every time he even though you were going to suggest it, so you didn’t. You felt like the worst friend in the whole world. At the same time, you felt like there was nothing else to do but be there for him. Even as you let yourself into his apartment, even as you let him collapse into your chest, you felt guilt eating away at you.

“Bucky...” You murmur as he pulls away and stands suddenly, swaying on his feet. Reaching for the water bottle on the coffee table, you say his name again, but he waves you off. His body is trembling with poorly disguised anger, footsteps heavy as he walks away.

“Help me pack my things, will you?” Bucky calls over his shoulder as he disappears down the hall. You hear drawers slamming in the other room and sigh. After screaming as quietly as possible through gritted teeth, you make your way to his and Dot’s bedroom.

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

Bucky has barely been crashing on your couch for a week when she stops by. Her perfect hair is tugged into a ponytail so high and tight it looks almost painful, blush too bright and eyeliner too thick around her small eyes. She does this strange thing with her chin when it’s you that opens the door - half-lifting it, half-moving her head side to side. Like she needs that last little bit of confidence, even though you don’t know how intimidating you can be in your sweats and sports bra.

“I’m looking for James,” Dot announces, eyeing your outfit without bothering to hide your disgust. She pops up onto the balls of her feet in her clunky heels, looking over your shoulder as if you’ve hidden him behind the vase in the entryway. “He should have come home by now.”

“James is out right now. I’ll let him know you were here, bye!” You chirp with forced sweetness, tilting your head and smiling brightly. You make to close the door on her but those damned wedges stop you. Her itty-bitty nose twitches, and she retracts her foot. She exhales pointedly slow before raising her brows expectantly.

“And where might he be?” She inquires, the same sugar laced through her venomous words. You have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from positively smacking the snark right out of her. It takes some convincing to get her to leave - you both know that you’re perfectly aware of where he is, but both of you also know there’s no way in hell you’ll tell her. Dot finally huffs, stomping her foot petulantly. She reaches into her bag and pulls out a thick, baby-pink envelope, shoving it towards you.

“Whatever. When you see him, give him this. And don’t tell me he isn’t here - I’ve already been to Steve’s.” She’s gone in a swirl of Chanel No. 5 and faux fur, and you fake-gag at her retreating figure. You slip back into the apartment and head towards the kitchen where you’d been halfway through dinner. The envelope glares at you from the counter, until you give in and pick it up to study in a moment of weakness.

In her strange, loopy handwriting, James is scrawled across the front. You study the packaging for only a moment before you’re tearing into it - your curiosity overrides your better judgement, like it always does. You’ve just gotten to the second page (of four, long pages in tiny handwriting) and are resisting the urge to retch at her manipulative pleading when the front door opens and shuts.

“Smells good in here,” Calls Bucky as he makes his way through the apartment. You scramble to gather all the pages and the envelope in hand, frantically searching for a hiding spot. He’s standing on the other side of the island from you all too soon, and you shove your hands behind you back. “It’s crazy, I could’ve sworn I saw - what are you hiding?”

You curse in your head, swallowing thickly. You never hide anything from Bucky, haven’t been nervous around him since you first started trying to broach the wicked subject that was Dot. You fidget under his gaze, unable to speak as he creeps around the counter towards you. Bucky has never seemed quite so big until now, or maybe you just hadn’t noticed because he’s always shown you his goofy, teddy-bear side. Now though, you’re very aware of the way he towers above you as he reaches around to snatch the offending objects from your grip.

The kitchen is deafeningly silent. You wish the tile would swallow you. To distract yourself from the stupidly endearing way his lips move whilst he reads, you focus back on dinner, setting your small dining table and getting the meal on the table. Your hands shake as he still says nothing. opting instead to shove the letter into the garbage. As far as you could tell, he hadn’t even finished reading it, but he drops so heavily into his chair and looks so close to tears you don’t even ask.

Dinner, too, is quiet. Bucky eats more than enough for both of you; leftovers don’t exist for meals you share with him. You clean up without second thought as soon as both of you finish. You expect Bucky to putz about the apartment, maybe shower or watch TV, but he stays leaning on his forearms on the island whilst you load the dishwasher. A quick glance back reveals him chewing his lips and staring holes into the counter top. You know Bucky, and you know he’s trying to find the words to tell you something, so you patiently mirror his stance once you’re done. Abruptly, he straightens, pulling off his shirt.

“Bucky-” You gasp, but any questions die in your throat as he turns around. Painted across his rib-cage are yellowing bruises, and the length of his back is run with scratches, newer than you care to think about.

“She pushed me. Into the fucking-the dresser.” His voice is low, and the way it shakes makes your heart crack. “She’s never...I didn’t think...You were right. I’m sorry.”

You’re in front of him in an instant, catching him as he shrinks before your eyes. The pair of you sink to the kitchen floor; you’re sure you present an interesting picture. Your beefy, giggly best friend, curled into your body as his own is wracked with sobs. You card your fingers through his hair, shushing him as soothing as you can as he continues to apologize. Your heart breaks, and despite your competitive streak and love of winning, you’d never wished more to be wrong.

#bucky barnes #mine #mcu #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #marvel fic #carolmaximoffs

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rwbyvein · 3 years ago

Text

Firen Lhain: Chapter 709: The Lion of Naples: Part II/III

Neo placed the package into the mailbox by Signal, and sauntered on her way.

* * *

Yang heard shuffling from downstairs, but rolled over trying to ignore it. That was until Zwei started barking. "ZWEI!" she shouted, but he kept up his eager barking. "ZWEI!" she repeated, but he kept barking. "WHAT DO YOU KEEP BARKING ABOUT?" she shouted as she walked down the stairs, but found him eagerly clawing at the front door. She sighed and opened the door only to find a postman there.

"Package for you, Yang." he said.

"Hm? Who from?" she asked, "Wait, is it Ruby?" she asked, and he looked at the package.

"Your father."

"Dad?" she asked, as she reached her hand out and he handed her the package.

"See ya." he said, and turned to walk away.

"What the hell is it?" Yang asked, as Zwei eagerly did circles on the ground below the package. "What?" Yang asked him, and put the package on the ground, opening it with her one hand. As she opened it up she found dog treats. "What the hell, dad?" she asked, as Zwei eagerly looked at her. She sighed and pulled out a treat. "Okay, you are a pretty good dog. Who's a good boy?" she asked, and Zwei eagerly sat at a begging stance, and she threw it to him, "You are." she said, developing a wide smile.

* * *

Neo slipped in through the second story window. Right by the window were two envelopes, one saying, "Hey, sis." that was open, and the other saying, "Summer Princess", and sealed. She took a picture of them with her scroll. She didn't have time to unseal and reseal it, so she opened the one that said, "Hey, sis." It helpfully explained Ruby's insanely idiotic plan of walking all the way to Mistral. She put the letter back down. She looked at the picture on her scroll and slightly moved the letter until it was exactly where she found it. Neo then slipped out the window as Yang was smiling while petting Zwei.

* * *

Neo sat quickly in the bushes as she thought this over. Two half-continents was a lot of ground to cover, but, if they were walking, there was two ports they would have to go through. That, or she could just fly straight to Mistral, and find them when they get there. Knowing them, they will likely make a scene of themselves. They were really good at getting themselves into trouble.

Roman's image flashed into her mind, and the tears started flowing. He was good at getting into, and out of, trouble, himself.

* * *

Neo stepped off the airship in the Mistralan aerodrome. She queued up and showed one of the many fake passports Roman had gotten for her to the bureaucrats, and she was quickly let through. As far as Mistral was concerned, she was a native coming home. One who needed a little extra help because of her disability. Just the thought of it made her want to stab all of the bureaucrats with her umbrella, but she put on a fake smile and walked through the checkpoint.

* * *

She stood atop a house near the base of Mistral, looking up at the shining elite at the peak in their shining mansions. She would much rather have a warehouse filled with ill-gotten-gains, and tears formed in her eyes and Roman's face flashed in her mind.

* * *

Neo found herself huddled in a corner of the slums. She had to chase away a few beggars with the knife in her umbrella, but it was now hers, and what was she going to do with it? She could start her own crime syndicate, or even take one over. But without Roman, what was the point? The only thing she knew is that she had to do something before the idiots arrived.

* * *

The answer was apparently buying an old water tower. Most people didn't want it because a water tower isn't a house. Anything with a roof is a house, (and several things that don't realy have roofs). And this one had a great view of the aerodrome, and the main gate.

Okay, water tower is a bit misleading, as while it is / was a water tower, it does have a brickwork structure. Plenty of places to live. With a bit of firedust, anything that's fireproof can be a kitchen. In truth, she had too much space to know what to do with. She was only four feet tall, afterall, and all she has was the clothes on her back, the hat on her head and the blankets she was using as a bed. And one more thing. She put the hat on her head, used her umbrella to adjust it, and walked down the many stairs from her giant former water tower.

* * *

Neo walked into the post office and showed them her passport. The postman walked into the back and returned with a package almost as tall as she was. "Are you... sure you'll be alright?" he asked, and she eagerly nodded. He handed her the package, sent from one of her aliases.

* * *

Neo put the package on the floor in her 'bed'room. She used the knife on her umbrella to open the package and pulled out his cane, hugging it dearly, tears pouring down her face.

* * *

She wasn't sure how much time had passed, as the days and nights all seemed to blend in together. The thing that changed, though, is she was tired of just watching. She wanted to do something more productive.

* * *

She walked towards the aerodrome and her clothing quickly changed to blend in with the Mistralan bureaucrats. It always amazed her how no one questioned a well dressed person carrying a clipboard or file folder, dropping off and picking up documents. She was just a young clerk, either a new hire, or from another branch of the bureaucracy. A few days of picking up and dropping off papers gave her access to the entirety of the archives. One of the supervisors even gave her a proper ID, which she looked properly humble and reverential over. People were so easy to manipulate; it really sickened her. She smiled as he turned away, and she hung the ID around her neck.

* * *

Something strange was going on. The Huntsmen were disappearing. She didn't know why, but she could guess at who. Cinder.

* * *

Neo paced about her water tower. This was unexpected, but fortuitous. Cinder was just as responsible for Roman's death as Ruby was. Maybe even moreso. It was doubtful that she was still calling herself Cinder Fall, at least officially, but she still wanted to check the archives.

* * *

Neo walked through the corridors of the bureaucracy when some doofus stepped in front of her, obviously wanting to talk to her. She tried to put on a neutral face.

"I, uh..." he tried to say, "You are just so..." he continued, as she felt a shiver up her spine. He was really doing this, "I mean, you are so beautiful, and..." and Neo wanted to stab him. It took all of her effort to not completely show this on her face, but enough was getting through to get him to run away with his tail between his legs. Figuratively, as it's impossible a Faunus would have been hired as a bureaucrat.

* * *

Neo looked through the archives as quickly as she could, but found no sign of them. Then she sat up. Of course, she wouldn't find a record of her. It's likely that nothing she's done inside the City of Mistral would be written down.

* * *

Neo vigorously walked down the narrow streets of lower Mistral, hobbled by her tiny legs, dodging pedestrians to and fro. She was wasting her time reading reports and watching the hoity-toity aerodrome, when her enemies were already here. Why wasn't there anyone to stop her?

She felt weak and had to pull off into a tiny alcove as the images of Roman flashed through her head. She struggled to fight back tears, to breathe deeply, and hurry back on her way. She didn't have time to be stopped on her quest for revenge against the two who stole Roman from her. She didn't know anything about the underworld hierarchy in Mistral, which meant she had a lot of stabbing to do.

* * *

Neo walked passed all of the bodies of the goons, either beaten up or stabbed, and up to the boss.

"What the hell do you want?!" he asked, and Neo smiled and held up a picture of Cinder. Following a moment of non-recognition she instead showed him a picture of the idiots. Another moment of non-recognition and she knocked him out with a single kick. That, or broke his neck. She was not certain ,nor did she care enough to look. She turned to leave, but then paused to wonder if they had a nice stash of Lien, or maybe Dust for old time's sake.

* * *

Neopolitan dropped the dust into the dry water part of the water tower, as it seemed the safest place for it. Worst case scenario, she wasn't exactly attached to this place, and it might even help her fake her death.

* * *

Neo looked into the basin, at the giant stash of Dust she had acquired in a week. Roman would be proud. She wiped the tears from her eyes and closed the lid.

* * *

She paced around what passed as her bedroom, spinning Roman's cane. The stash of Dust was nice, and the stash of Lien even nicer, but she's wasn't any closer to finding the bitch and the idiots that followed her around. She dramatically gestured to the open window as it occured to her. She didn't spend any time in Huntsmen circles. In fact, they did everything they could to stay away from Huntsmen. The times they dealt with Huntresses proved disastrous. As she thought about, Ruby only attacked them because of what Cinder forced them to do. She might have to rethink her priorities for vengeance.

That said, Cinder was a Maiden. Neo wondered what she intended to do when she caught up to her.

Well, she really didn't care if she succeeded. If she died, she died, but that's that only thing that could stop her from getting revenge. She'll just have to figure that one out when she gets there.

* * *

She didn't know why she expected this to be more complicated. She put a few forms on the desks of a few bureaucrats, and all of a sudden, under a different name, she was a Huntress. And a few others she figured she might be able to take advantage of. The best part about being mute is that people tended to not ask her questions, and just assume the papers were genuine. Worst case scenario. all she had to do was nod.

* * *

Neo walked up to the annoying garden, filled with the glowing screens for Hunstmen to pick their missions. A voice echoed in the back of her head, "Don't do it." Roman said, and she looked about nervously, turning away from the garden at the last moment.

* * *

Neo sat in her water tower, weeping. It, of course, wasn't Roman, but her own mind trying to reason with her. If she had succeeded, she would be picking a fight she simply could not win. The only thing she had to do was sit in her water tower, watching the aerodrome.

* * *

Or she could infiltrate the government to find out where they were hiding. She quickly stood up, wiped away the tears, and walked down the stairs of her tower.

* * *

She poured over the documents a third time, but they were all valid. What this meant was disturbing, all of the disappearances traced back to the headmaster of Haven Academy. Him being a pawn of Cinder would explain so much. Potentially an ally? But, if he was in Cinder's clutches, what did Neo think she could do? Other than stab him.

#rwby #firen lhain #faunus au #pollinated knight

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optimistic-dinosaur-nacho · 4 years ago

Text

Annoying

Johnny Storm x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Langauge, One Pick-Up line Summary: Ever since you got powers from a space mission, you’re stuck with your team who are figuring out how to get rid of your powers altogether. But your one teammate decides to plan things out to make a little money. It’s getting out of hand when he only annoys you.

A/N: @just-one-ordinary-fangirl is making me too obsessed with Johnny Storm. The perfect match, she says and I’m a little scared because I can see it. This is gonna be a disaster and we need more Johnny Storm on my list.

Not everyday someone wakes up with powers and always gets told that they make a room not heat up. Out of every super ability you can have, it was ice powers. How stupid is that? Sue had the best one, you wanted to be the one to leave a conversation so easily by disappearing. But it doesn’t seem to be great when you have to strip bare.

Not your ideal of having, so you just had to go with your own. You were told so many times how much yours weren’t horrible. You couldn’t say it in front of Ben. Everyone knew why.

A walk in Central park, you were relaxing in the summer air. Seeing dogs run down the grass, people on bikes riding down or people walk down. You can hear someone pant and call out to you. Turning, you see a man who was running. “Hey, can you help me with something?”

You look at him in confusion and nodded, “Yeah, sure-” He shoves his water bottle into your hand and he kneels down on one knee to tie his shoe, “Thanks.” You couldn’t help but grip the bottle in irritation. The man stands up with a sigh, “Thank you.” He takes his water bottle and opens the cap. You look at the bottle and your eyes widen.

The two of you stared at the bottle that was now frozen. He stared at you, shockingly, “You’re...” The man stuttered and you can’t stand making a crowd if he ever bursts out in excitement. With a turn of your heel, you walked away. “Wait!” You hear him shout, you reached your hand out and the ground becomes frozen as you sprint walk. You hear the man slip and fall so you take that chance to run.

Heading back to the tower, you shoved your hands in your pockets and made your way through the doors, greeted by the front desk. The elevator dings and you see two people walk out. “Hey!” Johnny jumps at you, hiding something behind his back, he grins a little too big. “I have something, you might want to see.”

“I’m not in the mood, Pretty Boy. Now move before I give you a frost bite.”

You take a step to the side till Johnny mirrors your movement and holds his hand out. “Come on,” He tilts his head at you, “I promise you, you’re gonna love this.” You stare at him stupidly to have him just show you and leave you alone. He pulls it out and grins, “Ah, isn’t it cool?” You gawk at the horrendous toy. “It’s you!” He says.

You can see the blue outfit that your team wears with the number 5 on it. He looks at the toy, “And looks it’s got this!” He lifts up the arm and pushes a button. “Johnny, I-” You get cut off by a squirt of water hits the center of your face causing you to look deadpan.

Johnny kept a smile on his face like a five year old. Your eyes were still closed as the water drips down your face, “Johnny?”

“Yeah?” He asks, waiting for the most fantastic response from you. You reach up to your face and wipe away the water, you sighed, “I don’t have water powers.” Johnny looks at the toy, “But ice is water.” His shoulders drop, “Come on, I’m trying here.”

“You’re not even trying, Johnny. These aren’t things we should be happy about. We’re freaks now. And I don’t want... a toy that looks like me,” You say, “Besides these won’t sell.” Johnny lowers the toy and smirks, “Well, I saw these in every store. By tomorrow, we’ll be like the Kardashians.”

You roll your eyes and slowly thought of something. “Can I see the toy, I actually think these are cool.” Johnny hands you the toy with a cocky grin. You smiled at the toy and your hands grow colder. Johnny’s face drops, “Woah. Hey! That’s the prototype!”

The toy began to freeze up like an icicle and you dropped it on the ground, shattering it to pieces. You peer up at him, sadly, “Oops. Cold hands.” You hear the elevator ding and that gave you the chance to walk in like nothing happened. Johnny stood there like you just insulted his mom.

With a grin, you waved at him like a high school girl and fake grin in the world as the elevator doors close.

The next day, you hadn’t seen Johnny since morning. Sue and Reed were already gone and left on a date. Ben was in his own room while you sat in the kitchen, eating whatever you made from the fridge. You hear the phone ring and you made your way to it and picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Ah, Miss L/N. I have a package for you.” You furrowed your brows to your doorman in the lobby. You never ordered a package, but if it was another of those fanart from kids, you couldn’t refuse. “Alright. I’ll be down there in a bit.” You hung up and made your way to the elevator. Pushing the Lobby floor, you waited in the small room, stopping to let a fellow person into the small room with you.

His small grin winked at you as you forced one onto your face. He shivers, “Brr. It’s a little cold in here, is it?” He asked. You rolled your eyes at him and sighed, “Maybe next time don’t wear short sleeves,” You say. The man looked over his shoulder at you, awkwardly.

You obviously were the problem but you didn’t care one bit.

Once the doors open, the man was the first one out and you met up with your doorman and he handed you the small box. “Ah, here you go, Miss.” You nod once at him and hear someone laugh.

“Look who it is. DQ Blizzard. What’s got you down here?” Johnny asks, leaning on the desk. You turn away and headed straight for the elevator. “Listen, Pretty Boy. I’m not in a good mood.” Johnny trots behind like a child, “When are you not in the mood? Look, I know yesterday with your own figurine was... too much. But in all honestly, it was sick.”

You turn toward the opens doors, “Keep talking, I’ll make you into a popsicle. Now shut up.” Johnny quirks his brows up as a ‘Got it’ and never spoken again. You two stood there in silent, finally being in a peaceful room with one of the most annoying people on the planet.

The elevator opens to a woman and she comes in with a small grin. Johnny nods at her and she faces away from you two. The woman sighs, “Strange. You guys feel hot and cold?” She asked.

Johnny glances over at you before turning to the woman, “No. Not at all,” He spoke. Seconds, you could see Johnny steam up a little. You hear the woman let out a gasp, “Didn’t they fix the vents last time? Whoo. It’s hot,” You watch as the woman began to take off her suit jacket and Johnny watched her slowly. You found a way to stop him, kicking him in the shin causing him to yelp.

The elevator dings and the woman leaves glistening with sweat and the doors close once again. You shook your head slowly, “You’re disgusting.” Johnny shoves his hands in his pockets and grins. “Come on. Enjoy it. You were hot, too, admit it.”

“Actually I wasn’t. Maybe try a little harder because you can’t get to me that easily,” You say, leaving through the doors once they reached your level. Johnny followed behind with a grin. “Oh, come on. I get to you all the time. Even when you’re 0 degrees below, you still heat up in the cheeks. Admit it, Snowflake.”

You turn around, “Don’t call me Snowflake.”

“Hey, you call me Pretty Boy, what’s wrong with Snowflake?” He asks, he glances at the box in your arms, “I wonder what’s in the box.” He smirks at you in a bad way that gets you thinking. What was this jerk planning? You ripped the box open and saw plastic wrap. You pulled it open and saw what looked like Johnny. As a toy.

“What the hell is this? Did you get me this?” You asked, Johnny glance into the box again and so did you. A letter inside made you read it instantly.

Push the button on the back.

You look at the doll and pushed the button on its back. “Enjoy your new room.” You furrowed your brows and glared at Johnny. You raced to your room and pushed your door open, your mouth gapes at the scene. “What the hell, Johnny!” He comes in casually with his hand in his pockets. “What? I actually like it.”

“I don’t! Everything is...” You turned to the bed sheets that had his face on it, “You!” Toys of Johnny in his Fantastic Four suit were all over the place. Your curtains were blue with the number four on it. Johnny even added your figurine around the room.

“Where the hell did you get this stuff?” You asked, pacing around the room to gather all the merchandise. Johnny looks around like a proud guy. “Well, you know people get creative with us being top trending people, and I am the hottest guy here while you... hottest girl on the team as well, they made things for us. And I had a few people I know. It’s an early birthday gift.”

“My birthday was a month ago.”

Johnny pauses, lifting a finger up, “Okay... late birthday gift. But, hey...” He smiles like a child, pointing at you, “You are my biggest fan.” You grab the pillow case that had his face on it and threw it at him. “You’re so annoying! I hate you!” YOu shout.

Johnny laughs and catches it. “Come on! It’s amazing! It took me hours.” You throw another object at him and he blocks them with the pillow. “Woah! Hey!” You throw more things, “You! Are! So! Annoying!” You say, you began to run over to him till he takes your face in his hands and your lips crash onto his. Your fighting stops and your hands go over his. Your lips relaxed on his and he pulls away.

You open your eyes to see his blue hues, his grin tugging his lips. “What?” You asked. Johnny still rested his palms on your cheeks, “You’re as red as I am on fire.” You stomp on his foot causing him to hiss and reach for his foot. “I hate you,” His back hunched over to grab his foot with his hand till you kiss him again and his head lifts up to kiss you back again.

The kiss lasted for another second and you pulled away.

“Now clean up my room. I expect it to go back to normal,” You say. Johnny looks around the room to see your obsession with him and it made him grin. “I think it is normal to have a room filled with myself all over. That bed sheet isn’t gonna be the only Johnny in bed.”

“Ugh, you need to work on your lines.”

Official Taglist:

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#johnny storm x reader #johnny storm x fem!reader #johnny storm #johnny storm x you #johnny storm x y/n #johnny storm drabbles #optimistic-dinosaur-nacho #opti-dino-nacho #opti-dino-nacho drabbles

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