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mymoonagedaydream · 4 years

Note

ps, idk what the biker/college bucky story will include but i can throw out the idea of doing the modern day army veteran Bucky as a one shot or something? or whatever you don't include in the series lol

Recluse

Summary: You barely even expected to get a conversation out of Steve’s reclusive roommate, never mind anything more than that.

Pairing: Modern Veteran!Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Language, smut references, references to military service

Author’s Note: You bet your butt I can do that for you anon. This one really got out of hand idk what happened man I couldn’t stop.

---

You’d been living with your friend Sharon for a couple of years now, and it was still going pretty well.

Your ground-floor apartment was very compact, but she was so considerate and easy to get on with, you barely even noticed the lack of space. She cooked for you occasionally, always paid rent on time, even did your laundry without being asked.

You just couldn’t help thinking that things were much more fun when you were both single.

Nothing much had changed in your life, you were still a lone wolf, but she’d been with Steve for almost six months now and you barely ever saw her anymore.

Most nights you were just left to your own devices, clattering around the apartment like some sad old spinster.

It got to the point where, one Friday when you got home from work, you heard Steve and Sharon talking in the kitchen and got excited at the prospect of just having some company for the evening.

Sharon almost jumped on you as soon as you walked in. ‘Y/n! Are you free tonight?’

‘Yeah, totally, completely. You guys sticking around?’

‘You think he’d ever agree to that?.’

‘We were actually thinking of going out for some drinks. You in?’ You contemplated for a second, not wanting to come across too eager, then gave her an enthusiastic nod.

As she grinned back at you, you saw an idea dawn on her. ‘Steve, you should totally bring Bucky.’

Sharon frowned in resignation. You had no idea who they were talking about, their conversation going completely over your head.

Steve went home to change, leaving you and Sharon with a couple hours to get ready before heading out, so you thought you might as well try to probe a little deeper.

‘Who’s Bucky?’ You asked casually, sitting on her bed, watching her hold dress after dress up to herself in the mirror.

‘Steve’s roommate.’

‘I didn’t know Steve had a roommate?’

‘I’d be more surprised if you did.’ She turned towards you. ‘In six months I’ve only met him twice.’

Your eyebrows darted up. She spent so much time at Steve’s place, that made no sense at all.

‘What? Why?’

‘I’m pretty sure he makes a point to avoid people generally.’ She flopped herself down next to you on the bed, her tone lowering to one of deep sincerity. ‘He was in the army with Steve. Apparently he just really struggled to adapt when they got back, collapsed in on himself for a while. I think he’s a mechanic now but Steve is still the only person he really speaks to.’

‘Shit, that’s awful.’

She gave a grim nod and shrugged slightly, before standing back up and starting to get changed.

You figured you should do the same, shuffling back to your room and finally taking off your work clothes, relieved at the thought of getting out of the apartment for the evening.

Just as you were about to leave, Sharon’s phone pinged.

‘Holy shit.’

‘What?’ You’d never seen her look so shocked. She put her index finger up at you while quickly typing something back. ‘You’re killing me here Sharon, what the hell is going on?’

‘Bucky’s coming.’

---

You managed to find a cramped table in the back of the bar. Sharon made you wait for Steve to arrive before ordering drinks, because for some reason he always insisted on buying the first round.

About ten minutes after you arrived, she glanced over to the door, grinned and waved her hand above her head. Following her gaze, you saw Steve pushing through the crowd, followed closely by a statuesque, tower of a man.

Studying him intently as he approached, you noticed how visibly uncomfortable he was, his jaw clenched tight and his hands folded into slowly whitening fists. You let your eyes dance over his huge shoulders and wide chest, feeling your stomach flip a little as he got closer.

‘Hey guys. Sharon, you remember Buck?’ Steve gave his friend a proud pat on the shoulder. Sharon nodded and grinned at Bucky, getting only a short, tight smile in return. ‘And this is y/n.’

Looking up to his face, his sharp blue eyes briefly met yours, prompting you to quickly avert your gaze. He looked tense enough without you gawping at him.

‘Nice to meet you.’ You adopted the friendliest tone possible, doing your best to put him at ease.

Steve went to grab some drinks and Sharon volunteered to help him, leaving you at the table with Bucky, bracing yourself for some intensely awkward small talk.

‘So, you’re a mechanic?’ He nodded. ‘Do you enjoy it?’ Another nod.

Alright, he obviously wasn’t in the mood for chatting.

Christ. If you didn’t break free from this spinster shit soon, that’s exactly where you’d end up.

You didn’t want to force it if he wasn’t comfortable, you could happily sit in silence if that’s what he’d prefer.

You moved your eyes to scan the room, eventually landing on an older woman propping herself up at the bar, downing martinis, eyeing up young men and wobbling on her insanely high heels.

‘What do you do?’

It was barely a mumble, you hardly heard it over the bar’s background music.

Your eyes returned to Bucky’s face, meeting his hesitant gaze.

‘I work in HR, so boring admin stuff mainly.’ He nodded slightly, his eyes flicking nervously between the table and your face. ‘But occasionally I get to use the shredder, which is pretty rad.’

He cracked a brief smile, the sight of it giving you a wave of goosebumps. ‘Sounds thrilling.’

‘I’ve never been here before, have you?’ You were determined to keep this conversation going, especially if there was a chance that you’d be able to make him smile again.

‘No. I haven’t been to any bars recently.’

‘You’ve got quite a bit of catching up to do then.’

Resting your head on your hand, you gave him a mischievous smirk, and felt a little smug as you noticed his shoulders relax slightly and the corners of his mouth curl upwards.

Hours passed, the bar called last orders, and the four of you traipsed out to begin walking home.

Then Steve and Sharon came back with the drinks, pretty effectively ruining the moment you’d been setting up.

Bucky went quiet again, keeping to himself for most of the evening, only speaking when spoken to. You felt his gaze fall on you occasionally, but each time you tried to meet his eyes they were quickly averted.

‘Oh hey, I forgot to ask.’ Steve gestured towards you. ‘Sharon said you went to visit your parents last weekend? How was that?’

‘I couldn’t go in the end, my car's fucked. It’s my own fault, everyday there was a new rattling sound but just ignored it.’

‘I’ll take a look at it.’ Your eyes snapped over to Bucky, a little shocked at how enthusiastically he’d come out with that. ‘If you want.’

You gave him a wide smile. ‘Wow, yeah, that’d be amazing. Thank you.’

---

A few days later, you were faced with another evening alone while Sharon was at Steve’s.

You unenthusiastically pulled a ready meal out of the fridge and poked some holes in the plastic, shoving it in the microwave and reaching for the half-empty bottle of wine on the counter.

‘Hi. Sorry. I was coming this way and Sharon said you’d be in, I thought I could take a look at your car?’

Just as you went to grab a glass out of the cupboard, you were stopped by a faint knock at the front door.

Shuffling over and yanking it open, you saw Bucky standing on your doorstep, looking just as uncomfortable as he did walking into that bar.

You were a little embarrassed that he’d caught in your pyjamas at 6:30, but that feeling was hugely outweighed with how pleased you were to see him.

‘Yeah, great.’ You gave him a warm smile. ‘I’ll just grab my keys.’

You found your gaze pretty quickly drawn to his arms, propping him up as he leant over the machinery like thick, hefty tree trunks. It was amazing how entranced you were by them, but considering how long it’d been since you’d even brushed past an attractive male, it made sense. God the things you’d let him do, if he-

You slipped on your shoes and led him over to the rustbucket, badly parked on the street outside. He flicked open the bonnet and immediately started tinkering.

You had less than no idea what was happening, but it looked very impressive.

‘Could you start it up?’ His deep voice pulled you out of your hazy fantasies.

‘Hmm? Oh, yeah.’

You tried your best to hide how flustered you were as you climbed into the driver's seat and turned the key. An intense rattling started, which he listened to for a second before signalling for you to turn it off and closing the bonnet.

‘You were right, it needs a lot of work. It’s definitely not safe to drive.’

‘Shit, stuck with the bus then.’ You sighed and climbed out, slamming the door behind you. ‘Thank you so much, you really didn’t have to do this. I appreciate it.’

‘Anytime.’ He smiled politely, taking a couple steps backwards before turning, dropping his head and starting to walk away.

‘You can come in for a drink if you want?’ You called after him, a little shocked at your boldness but not at all mad about it. He spun round. ‘It’s the least I can do.’

He took a sip and turned himself slightly to face you. ‘Look, if you bring your car to the shop where I work, I can probably keep the price down.’

His polite smile evolved into a wide grin as he nodded, following you inside.

You grabbed him a beer from the fridge and gestured for him to join you on the couch, smiling to yourself at how nervous he seemed as he balanced himself right on the edge of the seat.

‘Are you sure?’ He nodded. ‘That's so nice, you barely even know me.’

He looked a little sheepish at that, scurrying around for his words. ‘Sharon was pretty keen for me to come take a look, it’s probably best to keep Steve’s girlfriend on side, y’know.’

‘Oh I do know, Sharon can be terrifying.’ You both chuckled as Bucky edged back, settling himself into the couch a little more. ‘So you and Steve met in the army?’

‘We’ve been friends since we were kids, we signed up together.’

‘That’s nice.’ You tilted your head at him, deciding to take a slight gamble on your next question. ‘Do you miss it?’

He fixed his eyes on the ground and faintly shook his head, nervously starting to pick at the label on his bottle.

Shit, you really didn’t mean to make him uncomfortable, you were just curious.

A swift subject change remedied the situation somewhat, and after a while you sensed him beginning to relax again.

You finished off your glass of wine and checked your phone, your hand shooting up to your forehead in shock when you saw that it was close to midnight.

Over the next couple hours he slowly came out of his shell even further, eventually chatting and laughing with you like you were his good friend. The two of you unconsciously edged towards each other throughout the evening, ending up face to face with legs folded up on the couch, as close as you could get without touching.

‘Shit, I have work tomorrow.’

‘I’m really sorry.’ He put his bottle on the coffee table and stood up quickly. ‘I didn’t mean to keep you up.’

‘Oh you don’t have to apologise, it’s not your fault. I had a really nice evening.’

‘Me too.’ He smiled and buried his hands in his pockets, following you to the front door. ‘I’m working every day this week, you can come in whenever.’

‘Friday would be great? I have the day off.’

‘See you then.’

You watched him disappear down the street, feeling your limbs tingle with excitement at the prospect of seeing him again so soon.

---

You usually used your days off to sleep in till midday, but on Friday the tow truck showed up at 7am to take your car to the shop. You didn’t even get up that early on workdays. A pint of coffee was barely enough to keep you from passing out on the ride there.

He eventually noticed you stood there, staring, and your face immediately heated up as he approached.

You hurried inside the garage, scanning the room and eventually spotting Bucky underneath a hoisted truck, reaching up to work on it. His arms were glistening with oil and sweat and his shirt was riding up, exposing the faint trail of hair starting underneath his bellybutton.

Lord in heaven, what a view.

‘Sorry, didn’t want to interrupt.’

‘That’s alright.’ He pulled a dirty rag out of his pocket and roughly wiped his hands. ‘Did you bring the deathtrap?’

‘Yep, just outside.’

‘It’s gonna be a while. I finish at four, d’you wanna come back then?’

‘Sure.’

You walked up the driveway ten minutes early, which you thought was reasonable, and asked the very intimidating guy out front for Bucky. He just eyed you up and down and gestured vaguely to the side of the building.

On the way home you kept accidentally walking into roads, your mind completely occupied with Bucky’s midriff.

The whole day dragged. In your boredom you ended up leaving for the garage about an hour too early, meaning you had to loiter in an off-license, probably looking like you were shoplifting.

Turning the corner, you were met with a pretty impressive, cinematic wide shot of Bucky’s arse as he was leaning over the inside of your bonnet.

You should probably say something. Tell him you were there. Say hello.

Yeah, probably should.

Yeaaah.

You sighed and reluctantly shuffled towards the car.

‘How’s it-’ Bucky jumped and whacked his head against the propped-up bonnet. ‘Fuck! I’m so sorry, are you alright?’

He smiled at you, standing up and rubbing the back of his head. ‘Yeah, all good. Happens all the time.’

‘Oh, really? In that case you might want to consider a career change, could end up with some permanent damage.’ Chuckling, he reached up and slammed the bonnet with one powerful movement. ‘How’s it looking?’

‘Not bad. Want to take it for a spin?’

‘Sure.’ He held up the keys and you grabbed them out of his hand, excitedly hopping in the driver’s seat while he walked around and got in the passenger side. ‘You coming?’

‘Can’t just let you drive off without paying, you might never come back.’

You shot him a wide smile as you fired up the engine, amazed at how smooth it sounded, and pulled away from the garage.

‘I can’t believe it, it didn’t even run this good when I first got it.’ He smirked a little and nodded. ‘Thank you, Buck.’

You were already in the outskirts of the city, so you decided to drive out into the sticks a little, eventually pulling up into a dusty layby on a narrow side road.

Glancing to your side, you saw that Bucky was struggling not to look very pleased with himself.

As he began stroking his thumb along your knuckles, he cautiously pulled his gaze up to your face, looking at you like you’d just told him he’d won the lottery.

His hands were resting on his thighs and, almost unconsciously, you reached out to grab the one closest to you and squeeze it lightly.

He stared down at it for a few seconds, eventually turning his hand over and squeezing back.

You could barely even remember what happened next. You remember the back of your neck tingling, your stomach tightening almost to the point of becoming painful, the feeling of Bucky’s rough, calloused hand against your cheek and the way your heart jumped when he leaned towards you and pressed his mouth against yours.

Eventually pulling away, he buried his face in your neck, planting short kisses along your jawline between laboured breaths. You pushed his head back against the seat and pressed your forehead to his, closing your eyes and letting your hands dance down his chest.

It was slow and tender at first, but it quickly picked up, becoming feverish and passionate.

He threw his arms around your waist and roughly pulled you over onto his lap, holding you so tight to his chest that you couldn’t tell whose heart you could feel thumping like a steam engine.

‘It’s been a while since I’ve done that.’ He sighed, bringing a hand up to bury itself in your hair.

‘Me too.’ Your mouth curled into a smile. ‘It’s been even longer for other stuff.’

Melting into each other in a cacophony of limbs and flesh and tearing clothes, both of you eventually found the release you so desperately needed.

There was a loaded silence, you opened your eyes to see Bucky staring at you intently, wearing an expression that made your toes curl.

You dived clumsily into the backseat and pulled him after you, giggling as you both adjusted yourselves, trying to get even slightly comfortable in such a tight space.

And both of you did all you could to savour the feeling of finally having someone to hold close.

---

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ultimatetornshipper · 3 years

Text

To bee or not to bee - a Jasonette fic

@moonlitceleste I almost let this die, I honestly really wanted it dead but alas it was clearly meant to bee

(WARNING: contains puns, angst, crack and fluff. You have been warned)

If you don’t want to read my sarcastic/funny/fangirl commentary, skip the brackets

I have another bee movie au, i didn't plan it ("I don't claim to be proud. But my head won't be hung in shame. I didn't plan it. But the light turned red, and I ran it. And I'm still standing. It's not what I wanted, but now that it's right here. I understand it. A story written by my own hand" as quoted from Waitress), it just happened and i just couldn't resist. I'm not sorry

So what if instead of dying Joker turned Jason into a bee. Because Harley convinced him and told him that people were talking shit about him because he's named the Joker and they don't think he's funny. It surprisingly works. (Obviously Harley was the one who made the plan and did the magic I mean really what do u expect of Joker?)

Ok so now Jason’s a bee right? And he’s like 15 because .~:°*plot*°:~.

They look for him and Jason’s like flying around like, “Guys! Guys I’m right here!” Poor kid. (I mean I would make it funny but like angst)

Obviously they don’t understand him because he’s a fucking bee and Joker cackles madly and Harley laughs too but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes and it's kinda that laugh u do when ur supes overwhelmed and sound maniacal but like soft (I’m a simp for Harley being portrayed as the complex and beautiful character she id leave me be)

Jason is very sad. And also quite pissed

Not knowing what else to do he follows Batman home, he listens to them trying to find him, watches Dick freak out and Alfred wipe a tear the rest of the family doesn’t see.

Jason tries to approach Alfred, hoping he somehow recognizes what happened

He doesn’t, Alfred closes him in a glass and paper and takes him outside.

He sneaks back into the manor and sleeps in one of the flowers (it's a red tulip because aesthetic) next to his bed. He cries himself to sleep. (Can bees cry? Is this possible? Is this like a thing??? I don't need sleep i need answers)

The thing is even tho he's now a bee, he still has the durability of a human, so even stepping on him won’t crush him and he still has a human lifespan

Because Harley isn’t a monster and what Puddin didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. (Simping for Harley Quinn strike 2)

After a while at the manor and following them he decides he can’t stand it anymore. Alfred has thrown him out three times and Dick freaks out each time he sees him as he’s a tad allergic (read: he would die if stung)

Which is how Jason found out that getting hit with a newspaper wouldn’t kill him.

He leaves.

He’s a bee and it’s not like he knows about a way to reverse it.

But there was someone who might.

He goes to Arkham.

Luckily, Harley was still there. (YAY we get to see mah gurl)

He flies into her cell and she just watches him, then she seems to click. She gives him a small smile, “Hi birdie,” (she puns, honestly would make for a better clown of Gotham and I saw an idea for that once where she steals Joker’s title once and I’ve been yearning for it ever since)

She holds out a finger and he lands on it, she laughs but tears come to her eyes,” Hey at least you’re not dead. That was his original plan you know? To kill you with a crowbar. I convinced him this would be a cruller fate. I guess maybe it is, but at least this way... Ugh how the hell did I get here,” (Harley angst, honestly it’s all just self service at this point)

He simply stared at her as she cried, and he felt his heart clench. From here she looked so sad... not crazy, just broken.

She took a deep breath and looked at him seriously, “Look kid, there’s a way to get you back to normal, you just need to find someone, they’re called the Guardian of the Miraculous. They can help, I don’t know who or where they are, just follow your instincts. And come say hi when you get back, yeah? I could do with the... healthier company. And remember, I bee-lieve in you,” (Gasp what a shock, you mean to tell me Miraculous magic is gonna be involved in this Maribat au. Well I never what a shock. Also puns. Oh and she’s so nice to him. We love Harley in this house)

He sat there and studied her for a while more, there was more to her than it seemed. Than what he’d assumed.

But for now, he had his own problems to deal with.

She gave him a small wave as he left. (Adorable)

He left and started considering his options, as a bee, it would probably be safest to stay inside, away from birds and things that would view him as a snack.

Staying in Arkham seemed like his best option, as bad an option as it was.

Most of the prisoners wouldn’t have a second thought about trying to crush him.

A strong scent of flowers and plants suddenly came to his attention.

Of course! Poison Ivy. (Round 2 of me simping for beautiful, complex, badass women. Too bad Catwoman ain’t here.)

He followed the smell to her cell and saw her staring out of her small window. He was still taking a chance, but she loved plants and flowers and bees were important to those, weren’t they?

He flew to the window bars and sat on one. The moment she spotted him she smiled widely, in a soft way he hadn’t seen on her before. (Ahhhhh my darling plant redhead. I love writing the Sirens as soft badasses. Also has anyone noticed how rare brunettes are in superhero worlds? Like both in Marvel and DC but like irl brown is like a pretty damn common)

She held out her finger, “Hey there, little guy. A little far from home, aren’t we?”

She had no idea.

He landed on her fingertip and watched in awe as a flower and a few leaves formed on her hand. She let the flower grow itself around one of her window bars and held her finger next to one of the petals.

“There you go, it’s all I can manage with my power dampers. I haven’t had company in a while,” she said softly as he crawled into the flower. He made himself comfortable.

She laughed to herself and he saw her shaking her head, “Talking to a bee, well, I guess stranger things have happened,” (yeah ur crush is dating a green haired murderous psychopath and you get beat up by a billionaire in a batsuit on like a biweekly basis)

The flower was soft and warm and felt safer than he expected it to. He found that he could move between the petals but decided to curl up in the middle. (It's a pink rose this time because fuck yeah flowers)

He slept better than he had in days.

The next morning he took his leave, stopping only at the manor to say a mental goodbye.

Then he headed off.

Jason flew a lot the first few months, our boy was smart at least, travelling with a cruise ship on its way to Europe.

It was Spring in the Northern Hemisphere so he had until Autumn until it was in his best interest to head south to avoid the snow. He decided to head towards Africa when summer started coming to an end. (I have no reasoning for this, just that I want to)

His first spot would be the United Kingdom. Then he'd go through the rest of Europe following his instincts.

At least it was Spring.

Jason diligently searched through England, Scotland and Ireland but found nothing.

By the time he was done he realized it was time to start heading South. He’d decided to take another cruise to South-Africa, where it would be summer, he searched through the country until April. He would admit that he didn’t feel drawn to anything in any of their 9 provinces so his search wasn’t as diligent as in England. He didn’t feel anymore drawn to the neighbouring countries like Namibia or Botswana either.

(Once again no reasoning for why I picked these countries, I mean the French Hugonotes went there when they were fleeing from the French Catholics who wanted them dead so I guess I could make up some bullshit about Mari having an ancestor in common with someone there or maybe it was just the ship he could easiest get access I don’t know, you make something up)

Which was why he decided to go back to Europe as soon as April hit.

He hitched another ride on a cruise headed for France.

It’s been a year since he got turned into a damn bee.

He was sixteen now and while he’d seen some amazing things all through South-Africa (a place that proves that humans really do have a weirdly obvious way of naming things I mean the Amazon river and Chad Lake are just more examples really) as well as the United Kingdom, all he really wanted was to go back home, to be human again.

When he gets there he diligently makes his way through France, eventually arriving in Paris.

He lands on the tip top of the Eiffel Tower. As in the point of the antenna because why not.

During his year he realized that birds and other animals tended to avoid him, sensing his strangeness so that was at least one positive.

He stared out over the city. Well, the one good thing about this was definitely the views he’s been allowed to see.

That was until a massive explosion hit.

“What the fuck?” he said out loud, searching for the source. No one understood him, human or bee, but talking to himself reminded him of his humanity.

He found the source of the explosion but just as he started flying to its general direction, a blinding white light shone followed by a horde of ladybugs that were fixing everything that was wrong. (Imagine how scary this would lowkey be irl tho? Just a shit ton of Ladybugs descending on Paris my dude)

He decided that he needed a night’s sleep before he could even begin an attempt at deciphering what had just happened. He flew lower, finding a nice little balcony right above a bakery. And it had flowers. (I’ll give u five seconds to guess who this balcony belongs to)

He flew down, exploring.

He turned around when he heard a loud thump from behind him. What appeared to be a super heroine in red spandex with black spots had landed on the balcony.

She detransformed and started to talking to a floating bug- fairy thing. Strange. Though it wasn’t like he could judge, as an ex superhero sidekick who was thought to be dead but was actually a bee.

She disappeared down her trapdoor and he made himself comfortable in one of her flowers.

He slept soundly until somewhere during a night another thump woke him. He looked out of his sleeping spot to see a cat superhero stand on her balcony. He leaned down and knocked on her small trapdoor.

Ah, a teammate of hers, they were probably meeting about something, he thought as he heard her open up.

It didn’t take him long to realize that even though they were teammates, the cat, Chat Noir he later learned, was not aware of this fact.

Oh this was rich.

He couldn’t bee-lieve his eyes. (ok so Jason used self-referential puns but can you really blame him? It’s really just me and my pun problem so don’t blame the kid)

He was going on and on about his feelings for Ladybug, the girl’s hero form, that were clashing with his feelings for another girl he fenced with, while she listened, clearly fed up with it.

He also claimed that he thought that maybe they were one and the same. Which, to Jason, was hilarious as he was literally saying this to the actual Ladybug’s face.

Marinette- he learned from the Cat’s ongoing blabbering, he was a real blab-bee mouth, - was clearly tired, nodding half asleep, probably having heard it all before.

When he finally left Jason went to sleep again, incredibly amused and even more thankful that he was fluent in French. ( u think this is plot convenience? Just u wait mah dude iz about to get worse)

The next morning he decided to follow her to school. Which was how he learned of her huge crush on a boy named Adrien Agreste.

After learning the boy could fence thanks to Marinette’s obsession interest in him, he got suspicious.

Could it really bee? (not a typo)

After seeing the boy transform a month or two later for patrol he laughed like he hadn’t for over a year. It very much was. He'd spent the time staying on Marinette's balcony and decided to stay another week before moving on and continuing his search, after all, he couldn't stop now that he finally felt like he was getting close.

The next day she got home crying, claiming that Adrien had started dating someone else.

Kagami, she called the girl. Probably the fencer if he had to place a bet.

“I’m sorry, Marinette,” Tikki told the girl.

“That boy's an idiot,” he said, speaking his mind, another thing he’d gotten use to being allowed to do without consequence.

Marinette nearly jumped out of her skin, she looked around and he realized that she could hear him. He hadn’t really spoken too much before, at least not when she was around. He was usually content with watching her do whatever she was doing that day.

“Tikki, did you hear that?” she asked, Tikki nodded, her eyes landing on him.

“Oh,” the kwami said softly, flying over to him, “Oh, you poor thing, who did this to you?” (Tikki is the first ever mom friend and u can fight me on this)

He stared up at her, flying so that they were eye level.

Marinette gaped at them, heartbreak seemingly forgotten, “Tik- Tikki, are- who are you talking- are you talking to a – Tikki is that a bee?!” she finally spluttered out.

“No,” Tikki said, studying him, he felt his heart twist in hope and his stomach roll in surprise. Did she know?

“I mean yes, but no. He’s a boy whose been turned into a bee,” Tikki explained, turning back to Marinette.

“Oh,” Marinette said softly, turning to him. She held her hand out and after some hesitation he landed on her finger. She looked at him then back to Tikki.

How did they know? Would he really be that lucky? Was this real?

“Uhm, how?” she said, staring at him in disbelief. He tried shrugging but realized he couldn’t anymore- beecause of his- well if you haven’t caught on to the fact that he’s a bee by now you should really start from the beginning of this story.

“I don’t know, but Joker and Harley Quinn were involved,” he said.

Marinette stared at him in disbelief, blinking a few times. She sat in shock a few moments longer. (Our darling is an awkward lil bean, and while in media awkward is portrayed as cute, irl it isn’t, it’s just well… awkward. And we’re writing a serious and realistic fic about this sidekick of guy who wears a batsuit/billionaire's ward getting turned into a bee and falling in love with a magical girl fighting a butterfly man- none of this unrealistic nonsense)

Tikki flew over and sat on Marinette’s shoulder while her holder processed the information, the kwami stared at him sweetly, “What’s your name?”

He swallowed, he hadn’t said his name in ages, it stirred up something (emotion, it’s called emotion, Jason, you know? The thing Batman can’t process??) in him, “Jason Todd,”

Marinette seemed to finally snap out of her daze, “That sounds American. Are you American? Wait if Joker and Harley are involved then you’re probably from Gotham. Are you? Wait I’ve seen the name Jason Todd somewhere. Weren’t you some rich guy’s ward? It was all over the news last year, Alya wouldn’t stop talking about it for a month, she had a million theories. He was – you were announced dead two months after Robin was taken captive by Joker, everyone thought he was – you were killed. Joker made outrageous claims as they arrested him... saying that they’d never find Robin... that he’d all but disappeared in thin air... that he wouldn’t be the only one wearing stripes... I remember because he put a really weird emphasis on the words be and stripes and...,” her eyes widened and she gasped as she looked at him in what could only be described as pure shock. (Yes this happens, people can talk for this long and since I personally know headcannon that Marinette is ADHD this long ass paragraph is just another Tuesday bud)

He sat there, surprised that she figured it all out so quickly. (yeah bub it’s called plot convenience and it’s because of me, the writer, I don’t wanna focus on secret ID shenanigans, I got other plans for yall, also Mari is smart, don’t underestimate her)

“You’re Robin,” she breathed, “they turned you into a bee. Wait- How the hell did they turn you into a bee?!”

He chuckled, “Bee-lieve me I’ve been asking myself that question for more than a year,”

She bit her lip, seemingly contemplating his words and ignoring his pun, “Tikki do you know anything that could help? Do you think Miraculous magic-,”

He felt his heart stop, he flew up to her face, flying at eye level, “Wait, did you just say Miraculous? Harley said if I could find the Guardian of the miraculous, they could help me, do you know where they are? I’ve been looking for so long,” (‘°;~*.plot convenience.*~;°’)

Marinette blinked at him and Tikki's face dawned with realization.

“I’m the guardian of the miraculous,” Marinette said softly, “Tikki, that means I can help him, right?”

Tikki nodded and he had to dial down the hope in his heart because the look on her face told him there was a Kim Kardashian sized butt on the way.

“We can help him, but we’re gonna have to wait. (don’t look at me like that, do u want them to have time to bond or not?) You’re not trained enough to pull it off yet. If you were to do it now, all three of us would be out of commission for far too long, especially with Hawkmoth on the prowl,” Tikki said.

They must’ve been able to sense his sadness because they were staring at him with an incredible amount of pity. The amount was quite unsettling actually and he suddenly felt a primal like urge to pun. (An extract from my book: “My unhealthy coping mechanisms and how to use them,” specifically Chapter 8: “Humor hides the pain”)

Suddenly Tikki’s face lit up, the whiplash of her expression change throwing any notion of punning out the window.

“Well, there’s one thing we could do,” she said, excitedly, zipping buzzing around “If he wears a miraculous, he'll return back to human form while transformed,”

Marinette perked up at the idea, but confusion soon overtook her features, “But Tikki, most of the miraculous are bigger than he is,”

Tikki waved her away,” It’s fine it’ll work,”

“Ok,” Marinette said after a bit of thought. She stood and he followed while she started climbing down her skylight,” I’m thinking you can try each of them out for different patrols and then we’ll see which one matches you best. This could be fun, having some fun sized company while figuring out how to defeat Hawkmoth,”

He laughed, flying near her ear, “Fun sized, huh? I’ll have you know I’m considered tall in human form, unlike some of us,”

She laughed and rolled her still tear stained eyes, and so, the beginning of a bee-autiful friendship bloomed.

Marinette walked to her closet and Jason took in her room. It was very pink, but in a well-balanced way - it wasn’t completely overbearing. His eye caught on a few pictures of Adrien Agreste on her wall but figured now wouldn’t be a great time to bring it up. (Look he’s already more emotionally aware, #foreshadowing of character development)

She removed a big box from her closet. She opened it and it was filled with what appeared to be a bunch of scrap materials. At the bottom she removed a bigger bundle of black and red fabric and he flew closer.

She put it in her lap and Jason had to do a double take when he realized that her hands were glowing and what the actual fuck- it was a box now -fuck fuck fuck- why was it a box? How? What- Jason was pretty sure he did not sign up for this.

She put the box down in front of her and to his relief she opened her mouth to speak as she lifted the lid, so he’d understand everyth- and its jewellery.

The box contained jewellery. Animal themed jewellery by the looks of things.

He then realized that these were probably the other miraculous.

She looked over each artefact before handing him the yellow and black hairclip.

Out of all of them, she picked the bee miraculous.

“Hilarious,” he replied dryly, giving her a look, he realized too late she wouldn’t be able to register- on account of, well you know… (if u don’t know by now, you don’t get to find out anymore)

She gave him a grin and replied, “I certainly think it is,”

Her teasing expression turned into one of worry, “I mean we could switch it out if it makes you uncomfortable-,” (being a sassy people pleaser with no filters really do be like this tho)

He laughed, “Don’t worry, I’m only teasing. What do I do?”

Marinette opened her mouth to answer before obviously realizing that she didn’t have an answer. She turned to Tikki and the kwami had a fond smile on her face before turning to Jason. (Just Tikki casually mentor- moming Mari because Fu is useless)

“Just step on the miraculous, it’ll sense that you’re human,” the creature replied.

When he stepped onto the bee miraculous, its kwami appeared.

Pollen stared at him for a few seconds before she realized what was happening.

After an explanation about her power set and what exactly he could do in suit, he transformed.

He felt his human body appearing. He was taller and more built than he remembered being. His flying clearly had physical consequences then, not that he was complaining.

His suit included a pair of bee wings. His hair was longer than he remembered it being too.

He had a black leather jacket and combat boots. With it was a pair of practical black leggings and a yellow t-shirt with three thick black stripes. (The three stripes represent each one of his families, the Todds, the Waynes and The Dupain-Chengs, because I can) He also had a pair of black gloves. His boots had yellow laces. On his face was a black and yellow striped domino mask. The top sat on his hip. The bee miraculous sat on the middle of his chest in the form of a broach.

He all but sprinted to the mirror. He stared at his face, his blue eyes and his nose that never healed quite right after breaking it that one time. His black hair was messy and stuck up every which way, his cheekbones were as high as always, and he had a little bit of stubble and it was so familiar and so new all at once.

He touched his face, barely registering the tears flowing down his cheeks and laughed in relief. He was human again. This was real! He could- he was closer to normal than he ever thought he’d get to be.

He turned to Marinette who was staring up at him in shock. He picked her up and spun her around, laughing in joy. And after a moment she joined in. He put her down and put his hands on her shoulders, smiling widely, “Thank you. Thank you so much,”

She smiled up at him, a slightly sad look on her face, “I’m sorry, it’s not permanent,”

“Don’t be sorry. For the first time I have hope. It will be permanent eventually, and till then, I have you with me, right?” he squeezed her shoulder, still high on the feeling of hope and warmth and familiarity.

When he was overcome with the sudden urge to pull her into a hug, he didn’t resist.

He held her close, resting his chin on her head, “Damn, I missed this. Hugging, I mean. I haven’t... it’s been so long,” (not that he got all that many hugs from Bruce “emotionally constipated” Wayne)

She wrapped her arms around him, “I can imagine,”

They stood there a while before the time for patrol came along. She transformed and they made their way to the Eiffel tower, where they met Chat.

The cat themed hero rose his brow questioningly, “I thought we didn’t recruit new heroes unless it was an emergency?”

Ladybug smiled nonchalantly, “It’s Guardian business, he’s gonna be a permanent fixture in our team for at least a few months so we might as well get used to working as a team,”

Chat Noir eyed him wearily and he stepped forward, sticking his hand out, “Hi, I’m Blackback, nice to meet you,”

Chat Noir shook his hand and gave Ladybug a sceptical look, “An American? Really?”

“Please Chat, he's not American, it’s just the glamour hiding his actual accent,” she replied simply, shooting Jason a worried look.

He couldn’t give away his identity, but he was also technically a bee, he didn’t really have an identity to give away. So, her behaviour was strange. Unless she wanted to give him an identity somehow?

He couldn’t stop thinking about it for the rest of patrol.

When they got home Marinette revealed that she wanted to give him the fox miraculous. If they asked Trixx she would be able to design the costume in a way that allowed him to look like a normal civilian, without the mask.

Trixx's glamour was also stronger than the rest so his true identity as Jason Todd would be protected.

And she could help him fake an accent.

Since Marinette was a year younger than him he could just pick up where he left off school wise.

She convinced her parents that he was an exchange student in desperate need of a place to stay because the person he would’ve stayed with backed out last minute.

They agreed easily and Jason decided to not question it.

It was his third family. His second if you only counted non abusive ones. First if you wanted one with a healthy family dynamic.

They got him a fake birth certificate and name. He went with the alias Thomas Grayson. He thought it was kind of funny, and it paid homage to both Bruce and Dick. It gave him something from home to hold on to. (Jason isn’t really salty about not being avenged in this au, he didn’t die and Talia and the pit madness wasn’t there to egg on his anger. But maybe if I ever get back to this au we could do a thing with it… guess we’ll have to wait and see ;-) no promises tho)

He built himself another home with Marinette and her family. And before he knew it, he was happy again. He felt secure.

Through the weeks, he ingrained himself into Marinette's life. In a blink of an eye, they were best friends, and he couldn’t imagine life without her.

He loved living with her family as she trained to be strong enough to turn him back to normal.

He grew close to Marinette’s friends and was her shoulder to cry on about Adrien. He and Adrien got along pretty well, and he and Marc and Rose traded Literature jokes. Max would join in when it involved Shakespeare.

Then Lila happened. (She’s a staple in Maribat fiction. U can’t have Maribat without Lila. Or well u can but that’s usually a very specific au)

Her lies started out simple enough. Then she started manipulating everyone and he, Marinette, Chloe and Adrien were one scheme away from being ostracized. They sat in the back row.

They ignored her sneers and let her lie to her heart’s content. Then one day she said something that made both Marinette and Jason freeze.

“You know, I was childhood friends with Jason Todd (I know she usually gets the names wrong but like her knowing the name just makes this next bit better) You know, Bruce Wayne’s ward who died a while ago? It was just so sad. He grew up in a nice family but his parents both died in a car accident and Brucie took pity on him. He even let us keep in contact afterwards, since our parents were such good friends. We all miss them dearly of course. We were neighbours the year we lived in Gotham, you know? We'd play every day-,” she started fake crying, “Oh it just gets too much sometimes,”

But to Jason’s shock Alya didn’t move to console Lila, in fact, she was staring at the brunette in shock.

He turned his gaze to Marinette to see the girl wearing the biggest, coldest, most satisfied smirk. She rested her chin on her hands and grinned at Lila in a way that made shivers go down his spine.

He turned back, this ought to be good.

And it was.

Alya absolutely lost it.

She ripped Lila a new one and frankly? Jason was impressed. (Alya has a temper and she’s a fangirl, and we all know how we get when someone gets something wrong about one of our hyperfixations, even if it’s an old one so like yall can imagine how bad Lila had fucked up)

When an akuma flew in towards Lila, Alya grabbed it, staring the girl down with a fury he didn’t know she could possess, “Don’t you dare! Do you think I’m blind? I’ve seen how easily you get akumatized and this time I’m not letting it happen!”

Of course, Alya then got akumatized but hey it beat another version of Lila.

Everyone made up but they weren’t quite as close as before. Their group tended to consist mostly out of him, Marinette, Chloe, Adrien, Kagami and Luka.

Other than that incident and akuma attacks, life was pretty good.

In fact, it was great.

He and Marinette would spend nights on her balcony, laughing and slow dancing. They star gazed and went on patrols. He helped her when she got nightmares and she returned the favour. They went on long walks and spent the holidays together. They crammed for tests and he played model for her designs. They worked in the bakery and hung out with their friends both in and out of suit. They’d joke about his technical bee-ness and he and Chat drove her mad with puns. In retaliation she’d introduce him as her bee friend to people or only give him honey and bee themed things. (ok this sentence sounds weird but I mean like when she brings them sweets from the bakery to snack on while working and stuff.)

And one laugh, memory and fight at a time, he started to fall. (I just want good things for Jason, and really can you blame me?)

Through the months, he kept up to date on the news about Bruce Wayne and Marinette held his hand each time a new kid joined his brood. She reminded him that no child could be replaced and reassured him that of course Bruce would want him back when they figured everything out.

And if he didn’t, she’d kick his ass into space, and he’d stay with her family in Paris- a family she made sure he knew he was a part of.

He helped Sabine in the kitchen and was the only one who came closest to beating Marinette’s Ultimate Mega Strike 3 record. Tom taught him to shave and bake. He was integrated into their family and they treated him as part of the family.

But even if they were giving him everything they were, he missed Bruce. And Dick. And Alfred. And Barbara. And Gotham. He missed them all so much. He missed home.

So, 14 months later, when Marinette told him they had a meeting with the Justice League about the Hawkmoth situation, Jason felt his heart skip a beat.

“What?” he asked softly, his eyes brimming with tears (Marinette taught him how to emotion, you see. So Jason is emotionally stable-ish enough to cry without feeling embarrassed about it), “I get to see him again?”

Marinette nodded and hugged him from behind, “I’m planning on telling him what happened. Is there anything you can tell him to verify who you are?”

Memories from a million years ago entered his mind, “Yes,”

She took his hand and took a step back, “And I think I can fix you before we go, I’m strong enough. But I’d still like your help in the final battle, I mean I know you’re going home but...,”

He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and smiled, “Of course, Pixie. I’ll always be there for you when you need me,”

He pressed a kiss against her forehead, a movement so familiar it was practically a part of him. He pulled her close and cried into her hair.

“What if he doesn’t believe me?” he asked softly, after a while, resting his chin on top of her head.

“He will,” she replied, tightening her grip around his waist.

They both knew she had no guarantee of that. That she had no way of knowing for sure. Neither of them did. And it scared him more than he wanted to admit.

The next day they do the magic turning back thing. It freaks him out quite a bit but not as much as her revealing the miraculous freaked him out the first time, you get kinda used to the magic shenaniganary. They’re both passed out for an hour afterwards and when they wake up, he holds her, crying, because he was finally, finally back to normal and this was real and permanent, and it was over.

She cried with him and held him, and they then went out and he wore a shirt she made for him, and they got ice cream the next day. They celebrated some more and went to the park with the squad and they had a picnic.

It was better than he ever could've imagined.

While the sun was setting, they stood back on her balcony, where they first spoke all those months ago, slow dancing. He pulled away and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled at her as the orange light of the sunset shone on them. (So aesthetic)

“Thank you, Marinette, for everything,” he says as he rubs his thumb across her cheek. His hand holding her face. She puts her hand over his and closes her eyes, savouring the moment.

She opened her eyes again and smiled, “I’d do it again and more, if it meant I’d get to be with you,”

He started leaning down, “If I lost you, I’d fly all over the world just to find you again,”

She raised to her tip toes, faces millimetres from one another, blue bells meeting ice, “So it was all worth it in the end?”

He moves closer, eyes searching hers. “Definitely,” he breathes.

She closes the distance, and he picks her up and spins her around. They break apart and their laughter fills the air.

(now that’s enough fluff, allow me to drown you in angst)

The next day they stood on the Eiffel tower. She took his hand, “Let’s recap. I go in, we have our Hawkmoth meeting, then I ask if I can speak to Batman and Nightwing alone. Then I tell them I found you, then I give them – are you sure it’s necessary for me to give them your blood, hair and a cheek swab? Isn’t that overkill?” (Batman is serious about his no kill rule, but he’s also serious about his there’s no such thing as overkill rule)

He shook his head and she sighed, “Okay. Then I give him means to contact me and I come back. Now remember they might take a while to process and they won’t necessarily call immediately-,”

“What if they never call?” he asked, gripping her hand tightly.

She ran her finger softly through his hair, “Then you have us to help you get through it,”

He nodded, she kissed his cheek and stepped through the portal with Queen Bee, Chat Noir and Viperion. He and Ryuuko stayed behind as backup, he wielded the Fox miraculous these days, but kept the name Blackback, always wearing a black leather jacket no matter the transformation.

He and Ryuko discussed fighting styles, she was kindly trying to distract him, and if it had been anything else he needed distracting from, it would’ve worked.

So passed the slowest forty-five minutes of his life. Chat Noir and Queen Bee exit a portal and so the wait for Marinette and Luka began.

She and Bruce were talking now. Bruce would know he was alive. This was make or break for him. Luka was nearby to act as back up worst-case scenario.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, followed by someone taking and rubbing circles on his back. He looked down to see Ryuuko on his one side and saw Chat Noir on his other.

“We’ve got you,” Chloe said standing in front of him, hand on his unoccupied shoulder.

He swallowed and nodded. She squeezed his upper arm and met his gaze, “Breathe, you’re safe, honey,”

So, 30 more minutes pass. They sit down and somewhere along the line Chat goes and grabs a dozen croissants from the bakery.

In another situation he might’ve laughed. He’d baked this morning’s batch and now he got to eat some of it for free, of course, technically he could get others for free too but-

The portal opened behind them and Ladybug and Viperion stepped out. He noted that she didn’t have the bag of his DNA with her anymore.

She smiled softly at him, “Now we wait,”

And wait they did.

They waited two weeks.

And then the burner phone that's number they'd given Bruce rang.

Jason froze, Marinette jumped up and ran to get it.

He couldn't move as she walked over and put the phone on speaker, she grabbed his hand and he held onto her for dear life.

"We can both hear you now, Nightwing," she said.

There was a beat of silence on the other side of the line, "Can he- If you're- can I speak to him? In- um- private?"

Marinette looked at him, and he nodded. She took the phone off speaker and handed it to him.

He held it up to his ear and squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on the circles Marinette were drawing on his hand with her thumb.

"He- hey Dick," he said. He heard his brother's breathing hitch, followed by a few seconds of silence.

"When did Batman find you?"

"25th May 2017,"

"Who's your favourite author?"

"Mary Shelley tied with Jane Austin,” he replied.

Dick stayed silent for too long and before he could stop himself the words fell from his mouth, desperation clinging to each syllable,” My favourite- my favourite playwright is Shakespeare, and my favourite school subject is English. If I could pick any day job it would be being a writer. My favourite colour is blue. Alfred has a secret fear of dolphins. You have had a ridiculously huge crush on Barbara for years and she had no idea, and I found a picture you drew under your old room's bedside table of you two getting married. I folded the picture up and hid it in a small box of memories I kept in the farthest corner of my closet under clothes I never wore. I have a round scar on the lower left side of my back where Willis Todd burned me with a cigarette when I was 5 that you don’t know I know you know about. My first Christmas at the manor you found me in the rose garden cutting a few off to take to my mother's grave and I was terrified that you would yell at me but instead you drove me to the graveyard and that was the day I decided to give you a real chance. I despise carrots but I eat them when Alfred makes them because I don't want to be a burden. And I-," he choked on a sob- when had he started crying?

He took a shuddering breath, and swallowed some of his tears, trying to make sure the words got out right, "I've missed you guys for every single second that I've been gone,"

His stomach tied itself up in a million knots as the silence stretched on. He could hear Dick moving the phone.

"Can I speak to Ladybug again please?" A female voice he didn't recognize said.

He handed the phone to Marinette and pressed his hand over his mouth to try to contain the sobs. He felt like a knife was twisting his stomach. He couldn't even hear what Marinette was saying. (I’m going through something irl and as a result u guys get to read angst by the bucketloads and I regret nothing)

Dick didn't want to talk to him. He should've just answered the question, he shouldn't have given all the extra information. Now they were never going to believe that it's really him and he would never see them again. Maybe they knew it was him and they just didn't want him-

"Jason, breathe with me," he heard Marinette's voice. His eyes latched onto hers like a lifeline, he became aware of her hands holding his.

She took his face in her hands and rested her forehead against his, in a motion so familiar that it came as easy as breathing. Well as easy as it usually was to breathe, right now excluded.

After he calmed down, she explained to him what they discussed. They would go to Gotham and meet and discuss things from there.

They wanted to meet him, but they still didn’t completely believe that it was him. He knew this for a fact because they had organized for M’gann to be there to confirm what he was saying. (Yassss M'gann my darling girl, I adore out lil Martian)

Marinette had suggested that they meet in the Batcave in an hour. Everyone had agreed. He assumed she had a plan as to why she wanted to wait. And he trusted her, so he waited for her to explain.

“I want to take the team, as backup. If you’re not comfortable with it, I want to at least take Luka. I would suggest just letting one of us wield is miraculous, but his Second Chance Timer limit is an hour so it would be most beneficial,” she said, gesturing with the hand that wasn’t holding his.

He nodded, sitting up straighter, but not releasing his grip on her hand, “We can bring the team, it’s smart to have backup. Besides if things go haywire, we have Luka to stop us.”

“Then let’s go get our team, love,”

(oh, I should probably mention that only he and LB knows everyone’s Identities. Or well rather no one knows like officially. Like everyone lowkey knows everyone's and a few of them have officially revealed themselves to each other, but not everyone is officially revealed to everyone and Mari and Jason are the only ones who aren’t officially revealed to anyone else, it’s kinda like the vibes of knowing your best friend is queer but not saying anything because they haven’t officially come out yet but like you know because they ain’t nearly as subtle as they think. Like that aesthetic.)

Anyway, 50 minutes later, they’re all gathered on the Eiffel Tower. Jason saw Marinette give Luka a nod to reset his timer. Suddenly he was enveloped in a light with a scratch that wasn’t there a few seconds before on his cheek, his expression quite annoyed.

Marinette immediately furrowed her brows, “How many times?”

Viperion shook his head, “Don’t worry, only one so far, but they try to restrain us. We’re gonna have to try plan b this time,” Everyone nodded, they waited two minutes before the agreed upon time and Mari opened a portal, but instead of appearing out in the opened, they hid in the shadowy parts of the cave.

Jason used his illusion to hide them from any observant eyes and they spread out a bit. He and Mari stayed together, Cloe flew to get a higher perspective and hide Viperion on one of the cave’s many ledges while Chat just moved a few feet away to have a slightly different hiding spot. Kagami dropped into her wind form and was flying above them to eavesdrop, she’d go to Luka if she heard anything of importance so he could go restart again.

They’d be one step ahead of the Bats no matter what they pulled, after all, they had all the time in the world.

They watched them all get into position as time neared. Jason didn’t know all the kids but recognized them from the news.

Dick, Bruce and M’gann stood near the bat computer with Barbara – who was in a wheelchair but that was a realization to deal with later- and Alfred.

The minute they were supposed to appear Jason cast another illusion to make it appear as though they had arrived. As expected, weapons and restraints immediately swarmed on them, each kid going for a different miraculous member. Too bad the images turned into orange dust as soon as they touched them.

The tiny one in the Robin uniform was red in the face and immediately started throwing a tantrum, “Father! They’ve tricked us-,”

Before he could get another word out, Chloe mass-venomed the horde of kids that we’re sent to attack them. He counted Black bat, Red Robin, Batgirl, Signal and Robin. They were all frozen in the middle of the room and before the others near the computer could move, Kagami trapped them in a (rather large) ring of fire. They had enough space to move around comfortably but if they tried approaching the edge the flames would grow larger.

Batman growled and his eyes searched through the cave, but he wouldn’t see them, no matter how hard he searched.

Jason stared at them. Dick was also searching the cave, but he seemed to look more hopeful than angry. Alfred seemed his usual calm self and Barbara was glancing around the cave more subtly. He didn’t bother looking at the rest of the batkids because M’gann was staring right at him, staying right where she was despite her ability to fly.

“Hi, Jason,” she softly spoke into his mind, he felt emotion overwhelm him, she’d known him before everything, and she knew it was him and it was a lot.

He knew she wasn’t probing around his brain for information like he was sure Bruce had asked her to, she didn’t have to, she knew it was him.

“Can you please tell me why we’re surrounded by fire?” she asked.

“We have a time traveller,” he replied.

“Ah, not a fan of Bruce’s restrain and question method, then? Can’t say I blame you, though I do think you’ve proven your point,”

“You really think it’s a good idea to release all of them?” he asked sceptically.

“… Good point. Maybe leave the brood in the middle in whatever frozen state they’re in and just let us in the fire out. They really just think it’s too good to be true… Jason, I won’t let them hurt you,”

“Okay,” he agreed softly. He turned to Marinette and gave her a slight nod. She returned with one of her own.

They walked over to Kagami’s ring of fire and he held their illusion until they were right in front of it. He held on to it for a bit to make sure everyone else would be able to stay in position. Chloe would keep the cavalry venomized and Chat and Viperion would stick to the shadows, unless necessary.

Jason dropped the illusion and watched four heads snap to him. M'gann simply gave him a soft smile and a nod of encouragement.

Kagami moved herself to stand next to Marinette and turned back into her human form, glaring at them with a silent warning.

Their attention was elsewhere, though. For a long time they just stood there and stared at one another in silence. They studied every part of one another they could see.

His eyes caught on Barbara’s wheelchair and he felt ready to destroy whatever put her there. She met his eyes and he held her gaze. She must’ve seen something there because she gave a small smile as she allowed a few tears to escape her eyes.

“Miss Martian?” Batman broke the silence like a cheap dinner plate, shattering it in a matter of seconds.

“It’s him,” M’gann answered without a hint of hesitation.

It was Alfred that moved first. He took a few hesitant steps towards him and before Jason knew it the man was in front of him. Alfred reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, desperately studying him for a moment before pulling him into a hug only Alfred could give.

It took Jason a moment to respond but when he did he returned it wholeheartedly.

After a few minutes they pulled apart and it took him a moment to realize that they’d both started crying. When he looked up Dick was only a few feet away. The moment Alfred stepped away Dick pulled him close.

“I thought you were dead, kid. I thought I’d never see you again, I thought I lost even more family. You were too young, too innocent. Fuck Jason,” Dick whispered, tightening his grip, “I’m so glad you’re alive,”

Jason held on to his brother and that night they cried about terrible endings and broken beginnings. They cried about lost time and found family.

It wasn’t the end yet, Hawkmoth was still terrorizing Paris and he had no idea what Bruce thought yet. There were all his other kids, his brothers and sisters. There were his teammates and the incredible story of how he’d been turned into a bee of all things.

They had a lot of catching up to do.

But just for a moment, a strand of a singular moment, he had his brother in his arms again and he was back home. His first real home.

Things weren’t perfect, as things rarely are but it didn’t matter. Because part of the beauty of life is how it builds and breaks us in a cycle of love and loss.

And that night they laughed with a lightness and joy none of them had fully been able to hold onto in years.

I hope you guys enjoyed!

This is lowkey totally gonna be the au I go to when I don’t know what to write lol, maybe write a bit of what happens afterwards or a part of everything during the year he lived with Mari them or just y’know shenanigans

#maribat #jason todd #marinette dupain cheng #jasonette #bee movie au #aka the deep dark hole within the deep dark hole #I've been working on this for a month #probably more #my brain held me captive with this au it held me at gunpoint and stalked me and wouldn't leave me alone until i wrote it #me: casually attempting to write anything else #my brain: *slaps me with ideas for this* NO #and the worst part is there's more that's not written just bull my brain came up with #and i can't believe I put angsty life philosophy writing in a CRACK AU #THIS IS THE VERY DEFINITION OF A CRACK AU #WHY #I AM SO INVESTED AND I'M MAD ABOUT IT #i enjoyed writing this and that fact alone infuriates me #blame moonie for this #and u know what blame bugabunny too #(fuck i hope i got their name right)#if it hadn't been for the two of them discussing this again i would've forgotten all about it and i woulda been allowed to write #my kaldur x marinette fic in peace. or my lila time loop fic. OR LITERALLY ANYTHING ELSE #anyway i tried to make his outfit red hood esque but like only the parts i liked about it #aka the leather jacket and the combat boots #I don't know how i feel about the fact that i wrote this but what's done is done #*sigh*#jason x marinette #why me #nightwing fluff #but also angst

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asleepinawell · 3 years

Note

How has poi changed your life? Genuinely curious, I love this show

I got this ask in May '20 and am only now answering it. :')

part of the problem with answering it is that half of the answer would be to the question of 'how has fandom changed your life' where poi is the fandom I've been the most active in and where fandom made the most difference. and that's a long story

my first draft of this was over 2k words long, and went back much further in time explaining how i had and hadn’t fit into queer spaces and fandom throughout my life. I edited it way back but it’s still long-ish, so you can read it below the break

many years ago, when I got my first full time job in my chosen industry my senior year of college I was so busy that I couldn't function. massive unhealthy amounts of overtime and a toxic work environment. (don't work at tech start-ups, kids!!!) my social life vanished. strikethrough on livejournal happened right then too and fandom, which i’d only been a silent participant in at that point, kind of went quiet for a while and by the time it started regrouping I was so busy that I didn't know about it. several awful years later I quit my job, spent several months in my room in my parents' house trying to recover from massive burn out (see my comment about tech start-ups), and then got a job on the opposite coast and left behind my whole circle of friends some of whom made up my entire connection to the queer community at that time.

making friends after college is very hard when you're an introvert and just generally don't like socializing that much. making queer friends can be even harder since there's fewer places to meet them and there's often an underlying question of dating/sex that hovers around awkwardly when sometimes what you want is just an absolutely no romo/no sex friendship. so while I did make a few queer friends eventually, I didn't have that same sort of community I did before I'd moved and I missed it

(I would be remiss in not saying that the queer friends i made in this time are all amazing and wonderful and some are still my close friends and very important to me. The thing I’m highlighting here was the lack of feeling like I was part of a larger queer community).

fast forward a bit. I get sick. like really really sick. I'm in and out of the ER, I'm missing tons of work, I'm mostly bed-ridden. I think after the last few years people can more easily appreciate how intensely lonely and surreal being stuck at home by yourself non stop can be when you're not used to it. sometime right before that I'd joined tumblr for the sole purpose of looking at cat pictures on my phone during boring meetings. I wasn't really aware that this was where fandom had migrated to (it was in fact possible to use tumblr without intersecting with fandom). but stuck home alone with time to kill I started looking for art and gifs of the tv and games I was consuming and stumbled into fandom tumblr and specifically queer femslash fandom.

I kind of poked around the territory and eventually fell into the carmilla fandom which became the first fandom I actually created content for. a few of my fics had a decent audience and while I was never part of the central core of the fandom I made some good friends there. some of y'all probably followed me back then. I eventually drifted away from carmilla for a lot of reasons I won't get into and stumbled right into poi. this would have been between seasons 4 and 5, late 2015-early 2016.

my health problems get more exciting and I end up in the hospital. I have vague memories of watching poi on my laptop in my hospital bed (vague because I was on a lot of morphine). I actually posted some fic while I was in the hospital (would have been the end of my carmilla run still).

and I get out of the hospital (early 2016) and am somewhat better but it's pretty clear that I'm going to have chronic health issues probably for the rest of my life. my social life, such as it was, was mostly dead, a lot of stuff I used to do for fun was much harder to manage. I'm still spending a ton of time at home (not even counting covid) and I have bad days where I feel terrible and can't do much. but I'll come back to that

I think most of us remember 2016. the year tv show runners fully embraced the bury your gays trope (and sometimes the fridging trope at the same time as a bonus!) and, by autostraddle's tally, 30 queer female characters in tv shows died. and then on top of that we had the actual real world tragedy of the pulse nightclub shootings. it was a massively depressing time all around for queer people

s5 of poi aired that year. I know people have different opinions on s5 of poi, and that's valid. I hated it. and I really intensely hated how it treated root and shaw. there aren't enough words to express how fucking angry I was after s5. or rather, there are 319,678 words.

I wrote a fic many of you may have read called sliding towards chaos that rewrote the entirety of poi from mid-s3 onwards. it got pretty popular lol. I put so much into writing it, too. it was basically a second full time job for me and a great way to take my mind off the fact I was still having health problems and all the crazy shit going on in the world (we had a presidential election in the US in 2016 :)))) it did not go well!)

i'm very proud of writing stc, and even if I think it isn't my strongest writing (which is good! improving over time is good!), it was what really connected me to a lot of other people in the fandom. I felt part of the fandom community in a way I hadn't with carmilla and it was an intensely queer community built around shared interests

one of the problems with finding queer friend groups out in the 'real world' is you're often gathering to meet based on the uniting factor of being queer, and your interests may vary greatly. fandom is amazing because it lets you find queer people who you share all these interests with and who you can bond with over them and collaborate with and that's just so so important. does fandom have a ton of issues and toxicity and bigotry? yes, absolutely. but it also has so much good to offer

through stc and later fics I became close friends with some really really cool people in the fandom (including my favorite writer and my favorite artist). these are people I'm still very close friends with. some of them I've hung out with offline and the ones I haven't are mostly because they live too far away. after years of not having my own queer circle of friends I have found one again and one I can usually participate in even with my health problems and that is such an important thing to me

on a creative front, the fic writing and the gif making I've done have both taught me an enormous amount and been a very positive part of my life. working collaboratively on comics has been one of the coolest things I've done. there is just so much good that came out of me seeing one shoot gif on tumblr dot com years ago and being like hmm looks gay I'm in

and in terms of the actual content of the show, I think a lot of the reason I was drawn to it (other than my lingering crush on fred from angel) was that root and shaw felt so uniquely and wonderfully queer in a way few f/f ships I'd seen had before. shaw being bi and reading as aro to me (I've talked about that here) and root being a chaotic computer nerd just felt so relatable to me and their relationship with each other made sense to me in a way that few others had. and the specific draw that they had for some fans probably has a lot to do with why I found friends in this fandom who I really clicked with

so yeah. I don't know how to sum this up. fandom can be a great way to find your people and engage your creativity and I think that's very sexy

#mp #asks #I added the read more line on mobile so I hope it actually works #personal

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ressyfaerie · 3 years

Note

Request: I saw this tattoo programme where 2 lesbian friends went on and they got to pick the other's tattoo and they can't look till it's done. One picked "you mean everything" for the friend and she was so worried about her seeing in case she hated it. Then hers (from her friend) was "I love you". This had them all emotional and got them both to confess & get together. Anywaaaay, a similar idea for Tyka?

Sorry for the late response! I’m working again and still recovering! This is the LAST FIC REQUEST of this askbox being open!

Soooo likkee. Once upon a time I talked to someone about a tattoo shop AU? This gave me some serious inspiration sooooooo here we gooooo

Halfway through I remembered! I (mentally?) based a lot of this idea on @ishkajules tattoo tyka shop AU!

Oh, disclaimer, I want a tattoo but know NOTHING about them aaaahhhahaha

“You’re a great artist, but you’re scaring away your clients.”

“Why do you care, Tala?”

“I don’t. They come to me after you reject them, or make them so uncomfortable they sit in the next chair over.”

“So then, why are you telling me this?”

Kai cleaned his equipment. It was nearing the end of the day, he figured he wouldn’t have any more walk-in customers.

“I just thought I’d let you know. You’re losing us money. If you don’t fix it, I’ll change your pay to commission only.”

Kai scowled. Who did he think he was? Threatening his pay like that?

“Like I said. You’re a phenomenal artist. But you're lucky I hired you. No one else will with your personality.”

Kai gave him a glare, “I’ll try to do better, boss.”

“Good. Keep that mouth in check.” Tala gave him a ‘I’m watching you’ gesture.

As soon as he turned away Kai rolled his eyes.

The bell in the shop rang.

“Hello! Welcome, how can we help you?” Tala welcomed the new customer with his regular fake friendly greeting.

“Hey... I’m Tyson.”

The kid seemed nervous. He didn’t have any art on his body.

Blank canvas.

“Um. Is Kai here?”

“Kai? Are you looking for him specifically?”

“Yeah! I follow his stuff on instagram and I really want my first tattoo to be done by him!”

The boy’s face brightened the whole shop. Kai’s lip curled.

“Of course! Let me get him for you!”

Tala made his way to Kai in the corner, he got up in his face.

“Listen, this kid’s a newbie—”

Kai rolled his eyes, “you know I don’t ink tattoo virgins—”

“Think of it as a blank canvas. As artists we all like a good canvas, look at him! He’s perfect!”

Kai took a look at this Tyson character. He hated to admit Tala was right. He was a good blank canvas. But Kai hated working with newbie clients; always so nervous, worried about the pain. He would just rather work with a regular.

Tala got angrier, “you will tattoo him. You’ll do exactly what he wants, and above all, you will be nice.”

“Or else what?”

Tala shrugged his shoulders and smiled, “or else you’re fired.”

Kai didn’t want to admit that Tala's threat got to him. He sighed, played off as if he was slightly annoyed but obedient, “fine.”

“Good. Now go do your job.” Tala pointed to the front desk where the new client was waiting.

Kai shot Tala a glare, as he made his way to the desk. He put on his biggest fakest smile.

“Hey, I’m Kai.”

Tyson held a backpack around his shoulder, he grasped it firmly, while giving Kai the widest grin.

“I’ve been following you for a long time! I um… decided when I had enough money I wanted my first tattoo to be done by you…”

Awkward silence.

“Uh, what do you have in mind?” Kai learned how much it hurt when you kept smiling.

“I know you specialize in birds… I would love to have a red phoenix. Eventually I want a dragon. But I’d love to start with your strongest area!”

“Okay. Sounds like a plan.”

Tyson watched Kai like he was a celebrity. He had a popular art account, but that was about it. Kai just stared back at him.

“Um... I think I want it on my back…” Tyson trailed off as he grew more nervous.

“That’s a good choice. Do any designs come to mind?”

Tyson bit his lip, he looked up to the ceiling in thought, “oh!” He pulled out his phone.

He passed it to Kai showing him an old post of his. It wasn’t his best work, but he understood why he liked it.

“I can do that design easily.” Kai wondered why he was so worried—”

“I just… Don’t want it exactly like this.”

Ah right. Newbies.

“So what do you have in mind then?” Kai’s eyebrow twitched.

“I um.” Tyson rubbed the back of his head as his cheeks turned a bit red.

Kai sighed, “kid, I can’t work on you if I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Tala called to Kai, “Hey Kai! Don’t forget about your happy little tattoo gun over here!”

Kai reluctantly put on his big smile, “yeah boss, I haven't forgotten!”

He turned back to Tyson. “So what are your ideas?”

Tyson bit his lip.

“Do you have a reference I can make a design off of? Anything?”

“I… do.”

“Then show it to me.”

Tyson exhaled, then slid his backpack off his shoulder. He opened it and pulled out a sketchbook. He had it turned away from Kai making sure he wouldn’t see. He flipped through a few pages, and turned it towards Kai.

Kai grabbed it, and placed it down on the counter. He saw the sketch of the phoenix that was clearly an imitation of his style… with a twist.

Kai found himself impressed. It was a good design.

“I’ve worked on this for a few months… I’m pretty confident this is what I want… What do you think of it?”

Kai was trying to be extra nice, but he couldn't deny it was good. “It’s well done.”

“Thanks!” Tyson grinned.

The more Kai inspected the drawing the more detailed it became, it gave him new inspiration, a kind he never had before.

“Do you..” Kai cleared his throat and prodded the page with his finger. “Do you want this exact design or a design done by me?”

Tyson looked ecstatic, “would you be willing to make me an original design!?”

Kai thought for a moment. His original designs were usually reserved for regulars or people willing to drop more cash. But something about this design called to him…

He convinced himself he was inspired by his jealousy. He couldn't let this poor imitation see the world.

“I can make you a design based on this one.”

“Really!? Wow, thanks!”

“Can I borrow this sketch book?” Kai asked, while flipping the book closed.

“Um…”

“I need the design.”

“Could you take a picture?”

“I’d prefer to work with the original.” Kai’s lips hurt from smiling.

“Okay… You can borrow it.” It seemed Tyson was an extremely shy guy. “Be careful with it, okay?”

“I will.”

Kai stayed late in the shop. He worked in the studio.

“I’m locking up. Kai, I’m surprised you're still here?” Tala twirled the keys around his finger.

Kai was hunched over the small desk. He had already drawn out a few sketches. Tala inspected his work over his shoulder.

“Can you not?” Kai spat back.

“It’s a good design. I’m surprised you're putting so much effort into this kid's request. It’s not like you.”

Kai shrugged.

“He’s not loaded, you know? You’re not going to make up for it in tips.”

“I know.”

Tala felt a strange proud emotion emerge. “Alright,” he dropped the keys on the desk. “You can lock up. Have fun with your drawings.”

Kai watched the keys as they fell in front of him. He heard the door open, and close.

He sighed, then scrunched up the paper he was working with into a ball, and tossed it into the bin with the rest of the failed projects.

The sketchbook laid in front of him. He wanted to take a look at the design again. But he had lost the bookmark.

Shit.

He had to look through the book to find the right page.

There better not be anything dirty in here…

He opened it to another design.

Oh, wow.

It was a dragon, scribbled with faint watercolour. Kai grew curious, what other masterpieces did this book hold?

He began to flip through, curiously studying each design.

There were tons of dragons. Kai was interested, as he had always wanted a dragon tattoo, but he hadn’t yet met an artist who could ink scales the way he wanted.

These designs were so close to what he wanted, until—

He turned to a page with a very detailed dragon design. It took up the whole page. The colours were perfect, mixes of blues and silver. He was immediately captivated by it. His mouth hung open slightly.

It had been a long time since an art piece caught his attention.

He ran his finger down the page, careful not to smudge the drawing.

“Wow.”

Two days later Tyson came back to the shop, eagerly awaiting his tattoo.

Tala gestures to Kai from across the shop, pointing to the front desk where Tyson had just entered. He mouthed the words ‘be nice!’. Kai looked to the ceiling to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

Kai got up from his station. The night before he had pulled an all-nighter. Until finally—he came out with the perfect piece. He knew Tyson would love it. He was upset with himself for putting so much thought into it, after all, he was just a newbie.

Kai tossed a black file folder on the desk.

Tyson jumped a bit, then settled back in with his backpack on his shoulder, “good morning, Kai!”

Kai put on a smile, “good morning.”

Tyson tilted his head, it was kind of cute, “did you manage to come up with anything? I know it hasn’t been long—”

“I did, I think you’ll enjoy it.” Kai opened the folder and revealed a paper, he placed it on the desk and flipped it around to show the blue-haired boy.

“Woah! Holy shit that’s so cool!” Tyson placed both his hands on the corners, admired it with an open mouth.

“Is it what you wanted?” Kai accidentally let his smile drop as he awaited the response.

“It’s perfect!” Tyson was so happy you could see his dimples.

It made Kai perform… maybe… a real smile.

“I have a test here, do you want to see what it would look like?”

“Can I? Oh man that’s so fucking cool…”

Kai gestured behind the desk, Tyson happily pushed himself through the gate. Kai pointed to his station “that’s my chair, put your stuff anywhere out of my way. Take your shirt off.”

Tyson suddenly stopped smiling and froze, Kai almost ran into him.

“Hey!” Kai started to lose his temper, but saw Tala’s red hair in the corner of his eye, he took a deep breath. “You said you wanted it on your back didn’t you?”

“Yeah…” Tyson answered back nervously.

Kai dropped the folder on his desk near the chair, “then take off your shirt and lay on your stomach.”

Tyson swallowed a hard lump in his throat.

Kai just stared at him.

Newbies. It’s just some skin. So annoying.

Tyson let his bag slide to the floor, he kicked it to the corner of the room, then he folded his arms.

Kai turned around, ready to place the stencil, then he frowned, “why do you still have your shirt on?”

Tyson went to say something, but stopped.

Kai sighed, “it’s just bare skin. I’ve worked on way more intimate body parts. You have nothing to worry about.”

Tyson shrugged, he acted confident but Kai could tell he was nervous. He grasped the ends of his shirt and rolled it over his head, throwing it on top of his bag.

“Now lay down.” Kai gestured to the chair that was horizontal from the last client.

Tyon nodded, and laid down in front of Kai, “is it going to hurt!?”

Kai closed his eyes for a moment, it took everything in him to not retort with sass, “it’s just a sticker, so we can determine the placement. It won’t hurt.”

Tyson nodded.

Kai flicked his arm, “you need to have your arms near your sides… like this.”

Kai had grabbed his closest arm and manipulated it like a rag doll, Tyson hid his face, hoping his idol didn’t see him blush.

“Okay, I’m applying it now.”

Kai expertly placed the test paper exactly where Tyson had described he wanted it. Along his right shoulder. Tyson barely moved, but Kai wasn’t sure how he would react when the actual inking started.

“Done. Take a look in the mirror.”

Tyson jumped up, nearly running to the full length mirror in the shop, twirling his body so he could see it better.

“Wow! It’s so cool!” His voice rang through the whole shop, even Tala’s client looked up from his chair.

“Thank you, Kai!”

“No problem.” Kai sat down in his chair, he picked up his tattoo gun and started to tinker with it, he looked at Tyson. “So are you ready?”

Tyson’s eyes grew wide, “r—right now!?”

Kai gave him a genuine grin, “no better time than the present.”

Tyson made his way back to Kai’s station. He looked down at the chair, “is it going to take a while?”

Kai nodded, “I’ll do the outline today. Then you can come back tomorrow and we will ink as much as we can.”

Tyson sat on the chair, still too nervous to lay down.

“Hey kid!”

Tyson looked around the shop for the echoing voice.

It came from the client on Tala’s chair. He was covered in different tattoos, “don’t be worried! But remember it's addicting! Once you get one you can’t stop!”

Tyson laughed, “thanks man!”

The man gave Tyson a thumbs up, Tala smirked in Kai’s direction.

He must enjoy torturing me… asshole.

Tyson gave Kai a huge smile, “I’m ready!”

“Good.” Kai had reached over to his station, he placed a pair of glasses on his face.

“You wear glasses!?” Tyson was intrigued.

“Yeah? Why is that surprising?” Kai wondered why Tyson cared so much, they just met after all.

Tyson mumbled, “you just… never shared anything on your instagram I guess…”

“There’s more to me than my online persona. Get on your stomach.”

Tyson instantly obeyed. He curled in his fists.

Kai made the necessary procedures, he wiped his back with a sterile wipe, Tyson shivered.

Kai had to bite his tongue from sighing.

“Sorry… it was cold.” Tyson muttered.

“It’s fine, don’t worry.” Kai tried to reassure him but realized he had never really reassured anyone before.

Kai prepared the gun, Tyson turned his head to him, “how much… is it going to hurt?”

God damn it. Why do they always ask...

“Not as much as you’re going to love it.”

Kai impressed himself with his response.

Tyson nodded, and turned his head away from Kai.

“Alright, I’m starting.”

Kai had done it a million times before, but it was Tyson’s first. When the gun first ran along his skin he tensed up, he made a quiet high pitched noise. Kai kept going.

He kept tensing up, too much, it would ruin the work, and Kai’s concentration. Kai stopped for a moment, “you have to untense. It hurts now but it’ll go numb soon, then it won’t be so bad.”

Kai just saw the back of Tyson’s head as he nodded.

Kai grasped his shoulder, “good, now untense.”

Tyson tried to loosen up, but his muscles were still tight.

“Breathe.”

Kai wasn’t sure what to do, but he still had his hand on his shoulder, he gave Tyson a gentle rub with the edge of his thumb.

He heard Tyson exhale, and his whole body relaxed.

“Good job.” Kai readjusted his glasses, and continued. He was leaning over Tyson’s body.

Tyson was aware just how close his idol was, he could feel his breathing as he worked. His face turned red. Over the next hour he grew used to it. He was loving the closeness. He was excited to see what it looked like done.

Tala was surprised, usually Kai put his earbuds in and avoided talking to clients. But this time, Kai kept glancing at Tyson’s hair, as if he wanted to say something, but was stalling. At just over the hour mark, Kai made his move.

“I have to admit. I looked through your sketchbook.”

Tyson jumped, “what?”

“Don’t move—”

“Sorry, but why did you do that?”

“I lost the page the design was on. Then I just kept looking.”

Tyson went silent, clearly he was upset.

Kai stopped for a second, “they’re really good.” he immediately started again.

Tyson went stone cold.

Kai continued, “your dragons are insanely intricate. I’ve never seen scale work like yours. Are they all original?”

Tyson hesitated, “yes…”

“I’m quite fond of the silver-blue dragon, the one near the end.”

“I know which one you’re talking about. It’s one of my favourites too.”

“Mhm.” Kai trailed off, still not ready to ask the question he wanted to.

A few hours later, Kai stopped, “I think that’s good for today.”

Kai put his equipment down, and laid his glasses back on his desk.

Tyson went to get up, “ow…”

“Sore?”

“Yeah, I’ve been in this position too long…”

Tyson slowly rose to a sitting position. Kai admired his shoulder.

It’s great work. I did well.

“I want to see it!” Tyson jumped to his feet making his way to the mirror. He looked in the mirror and gasped in awe.

Tala had approached, he observed the design and raised an eyebrow, “it’s really good, Kai.”

Kai crossed his arms, “come back tomorrow. I’ll colour it. But it will be a bit of work.”

Tala agreed, “it might be best to split the coloring into two appointments. Since it’s his first… How was it, Tyson?”

Tyson was still admiring his tattoo, “the pain? It was fine once I got used to it, Kai really helped.”

“Really!?” Tala looked at Kai in disbelief.

Kai shot him a glare.

Tyson put his shirt back on while Tala described how to take care of it. They made their way to the front desk and finished off some paperwork.

Tala had gone back to his desk, still within earshot.

“Thanks so much. Kai! It’s going to be awesome!” Tyson grinned, “but um… can I have my sketchbook back?”

Kai nodded, then went back to his station, and came back with the book, he slid it across the table, but held on to it when Tyson tried to take it.

Kai didn’t let go of the book, he looked into Tyson’s eyes, with his first genuine expression, “I have a question. About your design.”

“Huh?” Tyson looked up to Kai. He was positive there was nothing he could ask that he wouldn’t know himself.

“I want to buy it.”

“What?” Tyson’s voice rang with disbelief.

“Well, I don’t want to buy the rights. Just the design, so I can have it tattooed.”

“You want my design!?”

“Yes, is that a problem?”

Tala’s ear twitched, the situation tickled his interest, and he made his way back to the counter.

“I uh—um.” Tyson was lost for words.

“How much?” Kai badgered him.

Tala intervened, “Kai leave the poor kid alone, let him think on it.”

Kai looked at Tyson, Tyson stared back.

Tyson let go of the book, “keep the book till tomorrow… I’ll think about what you said…”

Tyson backed up towards the door, “b—bye! See you tomorrow!”

He had left the shop faster than either of them could say bye.

Kai still held the sketchbook, he looked down at it. Tala was immediately furious.

“Kai Hiwatari, what the hell!? Are you an ass or head over heels? You’re going to bully some rookie artist into stealing his design? What is wrong with you—”

Kai had opened the book to his favourite page. Tala’s voice changed right away.

“Shit.”

Kai held the open book close to his chest, “I know. It’s well done.”

“You’re not kidding, here let me see—”

Kai handed him the book. Tala admired the drawing for a long time. Before flipping through the book. He let out a long high pitched whistle.

“Could you do it?” Kai asked.

“Do what?”

“Could you tattoo this for me? I want it on my right shoulder—”

Tala laughed, “no. My specialty lies in fangs and fur. I’ve never done a dragon, plus these scales… this could only be done by the original artist.”

Tala looked up from the book, “if you love this design, it has to be done by the original artist. Does he know how to use a gun?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Ah, shame.”

“How come?”

Tala went back to flipping through pages, “because I'd hire him on the spot.”

Kai was dumbfounded, “for real?”

“Absolutely.”

Dude I have so many more ideas for this AU it’s INSANE. AAAH but this is all I have time for now <3 if there’s a demand for more I might write more!

#sorry for accidently stealing ideas #it was just so good #if i continue it ill ask for permission i promise lol #tyka #ressyfaerie #ressyfaerie fic #au #tattoo

31 notes · View notes

onecanonlife · 3 years

Text

In which Tommy travels back in time and tries to prevent a nightmare from happening to everyone he knows. Everyone else, meanwhile, is highly concerned.

(fic masterpost w/ ao3 links)

(first part) (previous part) (next part)

(word count: 4,598)

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

Part Three: Wilbur

Wilbur oversleeps.

He doesn’t mean to. He never means to. But he does, and when he wakes up and finds the sun halfway to its peak, definitely mid-morning rather than the predawn he was hoping to find, it serves as a shock to his system, and all he can think is, shit. Because sure, he’s been pretty fucking exhausted lately, but that’s no excuse. He’s supposed to be the leader here, and leaders can’t lead when they’re sleeping.

And gods above know what Tommy’s managed to get into this morning, or what Dream’s done, because Dream’s been suspiciously quiet over the past few days and there could be an attack at any moment now, and shit, shit, shit.

He fumbles his way through dressing, tries to neaten his hair, fails utterly, and gives up and pulls his beanie on over it. Not very professional, but it’s fine. This is fine. He can’t hear any screams, so nobody’s dying. Probably.

He steps outside of the hastily-constructed house he claimed for his own, and it’s less of a house, really, than a single room with walls and a roof liable to cave in at any second, but it serves for now, and he never claimed to possess his father’s building prowess. There will be time for infrastructure development after independence is secured. But he steps outside, squinting against the sunlight, and finds—everything in order. Everything looks fine. Nothing is on fire, except for the ever-burning camarvan. The walls still stand.

That should be his next step. The walls.

He climbs his way up, surveying the area. The surrounding lands appear just as they were left last night. No ominous structures set up. No fucking TNT cannons. All is calm, peaceful, and he has learned not to trust peace, these past few weeks, but if everything is alright for now, he’ll accept it gladly. Even if it doesn’t last.

He sighs, bracing his hands against the battlements. All too often, these days, he’s found his mind wandering down paths they never would have before. He can’t help but wonder what Phil would think if he knew the full extent of what he’s up to. His father tried so hard, when he was younger, to shield him from war, from the legacy that he and his best friend laid out behind them. And Wilbur cannot blame him for that protectiveness; his first experience of war has only been a few weeks long, and he’s finding he doesn’t care for it, even if he’s discovered a knack for tactics.

The thing is, though, he’s always wanted a legacy of his own.

Phil always said that it would be through his music. He never told him that he had his doubts about that, that he loves his songs but that something in him always calls for more, something just out of reach, just beyond the crest of the next hill. He’s not sure his father knows how ambitious he really is, in the end.

He should probably write him. He’ll do it after the war is over. After he has a country to invite him to see. After he’s built something that his dad will be proud of. And if he leaves out the struggle it took to get it, nobody has to know but him, because it’s certainly better that Phil doesn’t.

“Hello, Wilbur,” Dream says, right by his ear, and he jerks, pulling his sword from his inventory in an instinctive motion. How he missed the bastard’s approach, he has no idea, but Dream is standing right there, right on the walls next to him, covered head to toe in netherite armor, smiling mask firmly affixed to his face. He holds no weapons yet, but Wilbur knows all too well how quickly that can change.

“You’re trespassing on L’Manberg property,” he snaps, trying to disguise the frantic racing of his heart. His feet shift into a ready stance, a movement that’s old hat by now, both from this war and from Technoblade’s training when he was a kid, even though the sword will never be his weapon of choice. “With armor on, too. You’re not allowed to wear armor within our borders.”

He doesn’t know why he bothers to try. Dream won’t obey. He never does. That’s why they’re at war in the first place.

But then, to his shock, Dream chuckles, inclining his head. And then, piece by piece, the armor disappears, accompanied by the familiar clink of metal landing in an inventory slot.

“Right, right,” Dream says, as if he hasn’t just blown all of Wilbur’s expectations out of the water. “Of course. I guess I really should be trying to get off on the right foot with you, here. Congratulations, by the way. I’m sure you were happy to hear the news.”

What is he—?

What is this? Is he trying psychological warfare now? Is that what this is? Because Wilbur has absolutely no idea what he’s talking about. Is he supposed to know what he’s talking about? Dream’s acting like he should know what he’s talking about, and he doesn’t particularly want to give him the upper hand by revealing that he does not, in fact, have any idea what he’s talking about.

“Thank you,” he manages, a beat too late, but Dream doesn’t seem to notice, just continues on blithely.

“I just figured we should set up an official meeting of some kind,” he says. “One country leader to another. Get some peace treaties drawn up, write some trade agreements, draw some official boundaries, all of that stuff. I’ll admit, I’ve never done any of that before, but it can’t be too hard, right?”

“Right, I’m sure,” Wilbur replies, nodding along. Because, what?

“It doesn’t have to be right away,” Dream continues, and he just keeps talking. “I can give you a day or two to settle in, get stuff in order. There’s no real rush, but we should get it done soon. I don’t want to leave anything up in the air. That’s not the kind of thing that promotes stability.”

“Of course,” he says.

Dream goes to say something else, and then stops, tilting his head again. This time, it’s less mocking, more curious. “You do know what I’m talking about, right?” he says, and the game is up. Wilbur feels caught, but he breathes deeply, fights off his rising blush, gathers up all his composure.

“I’ll be entirely honest,” he says. “I’ve got no idea what the shit you’re on about right now.”

He’s not expecting that to make Dream laugh. But he does, tossing his head back and carrying on, loud and long, and then it devolves into a tea kettle wheeze. Genuine amusement, then, though at what, Wilbur isn’t sure. He doesn’t appreciate being laughed at, but he can’t help but feel like there’s something going on here that’s going straight over his head. He doesn’t appreciate that very much, either.

“Oh my god,” Dream manages, as soon as he’s capable of speech, mirth still dancing in his voice, “he didn’t tell you? Still?”

Something icy gets its claws around his heart.

“Who didn’t tell me?” he demands. “Who didn’t tell me what?”

“Tommy,” Dream answers, and those claws squeeze. His heart skips several beats, and suddenly, he’s casting back in his mind to the last time he saw Tommy. It was last night, wasn’t it? Just last night? He sent him to bed, because Tommy often tries to take late watches, claims himself capable, but he’s not even quite sixteen yet. Wilbur may have pulled him into a war, but he’s still a teenager, and Wilbur’s going to do his damnedest to make sure he comes out of this as intact as possible. And that means getting enough sleep.

He looked fine, last night. He was fine. He has to be fine.

He’s moving before he realizes it, his hand fisting in the front of Dream’s hoodie.

“If you’ve done something to Tommy, I’m tossing you off this wall right here and now,” he snarls. “Don’t test me, Dream.”

A year ago, a month ago, he never would have pictured himself making a threat like that. Never would have imagined himself capable of following through. But he is different, now, from the way he started, different already, and there is a part of him, a part of him that whispers to him in crows’ voices, that is scared of what he will be by the time the war is done.

“I haven’t done anything to Tommy!” Dream protests, raising both hands, though he sounds unconcerned. “I swear, I haven’t. He gave us a really good chance to, last night, but we didn’t take it. You should thank us for that. It was pretty stupid, what he did.”

“Explain,” he demands. “Explain right now.”

Tommy’s a resourceful kid. He can picture him getting himself in and out of an altercation easily. But the way Dream says it, it’s like he put himself in the situation in the first place, like he sought it out, and what the hell was Tommy even doing, outside of the walls so late at night? The walls are there for a reason. The walls are there for protection. The walls are there to keep his people safe, because maybe he didn’t exactly set out to start a country, in the very beginning, but he’s going to see it through. By all the gods, he’s going to see it through.

If, that is, this kid doesn’t give him a heart attack first.

Dream shoves at his hand, and he lets him go without an argument. Dream takes a step back, putting a bit more space between them, and then leans against the wall.

“Tommy came to us last night,” he says, “and traded his discs for L’Manberg’s independence.”

It’s a simple sentence. A very simple sentence. But somehow, the words don’t make any sense.

“Congratulations, President Soot,” Dream says, and he knows, he knows the bastard is smiling under that mask. “I look forward to establishing relations between our countries,” and he isn’t, Wilbur knows that he isn’t, but he’s enjoying this because he’s just dropped a bomb on him and he knows it, because—

“Leave,” he rasps. “Get out.”

Dream does a little salute, short and mocking, and then hops over the side of the wall. Wilbur hopes he takes damage, hopes he breaks his fucking legs. The sound of water hitting the ground tells him that he doesn’t. He can’t even be upset about it, because his heart has jumped into his throat, pounding in his ears, and all of the words were fine individually, but all together, they’re too much to process.

Tommy gave up his discs. And now L’Manberg is free. Just like that, the war is over. And Tommy gave up his discs. Tommy walked straight into enemy territory without telling him and handed over his most prized possessions, all for the sake of L’Manberg’s independence. And he succeeded. He got it. He sacrificed something dear to him, something that Wilbur never would have asked him to give up, and he did it for them. For L’Manberg.

Giddiness is the first emotion that fills him, and next is pride. Because this—this is above and beyond. He never would have asked Tommy to trade away something so important to him, but somehow, he found it within himself to do it, and he got what he wanted from it. He got what they all wanted. Somehow, Tommy managed to end their struggles in one fell swoop, and they’re not related, neither by blood nor by adoption or anything like that, but Wilbur thinks that this must be the sort of pride an older brother feels when watching the younger grow up, watching the younger go on and accomplish great things.

They are free, and it is because of Tommy. He feels like he’s on cloud nine. He feels like he could fly.

And then reality crashes back in.

Tommy didn’t tell him that he was planning this. Tommy didn’t tell him, might not have told anyone at all, and that means he strolled straight into the arms of their bitter enemies, people who might have killed him without a second thought. No one has died yet, and he always intended to keep it that way, but the thought of Tommy alone, at night, creeping his way into the belly of the beast, sends a chill down his spine.

Tommy could have died. Tommy could have died, and he wouldn’t have known until he woke up this morning, woke up late, and saw the message on his comm. TommyInnit was slain by Dream.

And then, another thought occurs to him: Tommy hasn’t come to him. Hasn’t come to brag, hasn’t even come to just tell him, to tell him that he’s just single-handedly won their independence. And that is not a Tommy-like thing to do, to let something like that go unremarked upon.

Something is wrong. Dream might have lied. He could have hurt Tommy. Tommy could be injured right now. He doesn’t even know for sure that he made it back.

Tommy gave up his discs for L’Manberg.

It still barely makes any sense to him. But there’s no time to make sense of it. He rushes back down the wall as quickly as he can manage, and then it’s off through their settlement, eyes darting around, hoping for a glimpse of him. He checks Tommy’s house, first, the ramshackle, makeshift thing he’s been sharing with Tubbo until they can get better buildings erected, and he’s not there, and Tubbo isn’t either. The camarvan turns up nothing. He’s considering leaving L’Manberg entirely, going to check by Tommy’s other house, the one built into the hill, when Tubbo comes up beside him.

“Morning, Wilbur,” he says, and then frowns. “You alright, man? You’re kind of pale.”

“Tubbo,” he says, and grabs him by the shoulders. Maybe a bit too emphatically, because he suddenly looks a bit alarmed, but he’ll be concerned with that later. “Tubbo, have you seen Tommy today?”

Tubbo’s frown deepens. “I was coming to see if you knew where he was,” he says. “He was being a bit off last night. Think he had a nightmare or something. But he’s not with you?”

“No, he’s not.” With every word out of Tubbo’s mouth, he feels his own panic grow. It is one thing for Tommy to hatch some sort of plot and not tell him. That is—well, it’s not fine, but Tommy doesn’t tell him everything. But to keep Tubbo out of the loop? To, presumably, visit him before leaving and yet still not tell Tubbo what was going on? It’s unlike him. Very unlike him.

“Okay, well, he’s got to be around here somewhere,” Tubbo reasons, his brows creased. “L’Manberg’s only so big. Should we go look for him together, then?”

“Right,” he says. He breathes, in and out. Tubbo’s a good kid. Very sensible. Very down to earth. And he’s right, of course. Tommy has to be around here somewhere. Any other possibility is out of the question. “Right, of course, let’s go look.”

So they do. They take a systematic approach, first checking all the most likely places and then combing every inch of their land in a grid formation. Tubbo’s suggestion, again. But that turns up nothing, either, and he can feel the panic creeping back in, because what if he actually didn’t make it home? What if he was out there in the dead of night, distraught and alone, and something took advantage of that? What if some mob looked at him and recognized him for an easy kill?

He’s not dead. He can’t be dead. There would have been a notification. But he could be injured somewhere, incapacitated, in pain and all alone, and he can’t let that happen, can’t let Tommy be hurt like that on his watch—

“Oh, wait,” Tubbo says, and pulls on his sleeve. “There he is.”

Wilbur jerks, and stares in the direction he’s pointing. And sure enough, Tommy’s there, right in front of the camarvan, and Eret too, it looks like. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt relief as pure as in this moment.

“Gods,” he breathes, and starts toward them, calling out, “Tommy!” And as he approaches, he gets the sense that something is off.

The first thing he notices is Eret’s expression. Pure, unbridled confusion, mixed with what perhaps might be something like anxiety. And the reason for that is clear enough: Tommy is holding their face very firmly in his hands. Which is bizarre, and Wilbur blinks a few times to make sure he’s seeing this right, because Tommy doesn’t—he doesn’t just do that. That is a gesture reserved only for people he is very, very close to. Tubbo gets that treatment. He’s been on the receiving end a couple of times himself, but not often. And he knows that Tommy and Eret get along just fine, are friends, just like all of them are, but he really didn’t think that the two of them were close enough for this. And judging by the look on Eret’s face, they didn’t think so either.

And Tommy is just standing there. Not speaking, not doing anything else. Just staring Eret in the eyes—or the glasses, rather—with a startling intensity.

“Tommy?” he asks, as soon as he’s close enough that he doesn’t have to shout. “Is everything alright?”

And Tommy startles. Withdraws his hands from Eret’s face as though he’s been burned. Turns to look at him, and Wilbur freezes in place, because just for a second—

There is fear on Tommy’s face.

He doesn’t understand what could have caused it. But it is undoubtedly there, only for a moment before it is smoothed away into something more neutral, if strained. And he hates it, hates it viscerally. He never wants Tommy to look at him with that expression on his face. It makes him feel sick to his stomach.

“Ayup,” Tommy says, and his voice sounds—rough. Like he hasn’t slept at all. “Morning Wil, Tubso.”

It’s casual. Far too casual for what Wilbur has just learned, for the panic he’s felt for the past half hour or so, unable to find this kid, this kid who is basically his brother, for all he pretends to protest against the moniker. Tommy is his family. Tommy is his family, and he risked everything last night, gave up everything for the sake of Wilbur’s everything, his grand ideals, his great vision, and now he’s standing there like nothing at all has changed.

“Ayup, Tommy,” Tubbo says. “You feeling any better this morning?”

At Tommy’s side, Eret shifts uneasily. Their expression is still one of concern, and Wilbur wonders exactly how long Tommy had been standing there like that, or what their interaction even was to get them to that point in the first place. It’s confusing. He’s confused.

“I’m great,” Tommy says, and—no, no, they’re not going to do this.

“Tommy,” he breaks in, and Tommy stiffens. “Tommy, last night, why did you—you just—why wouldn’t you tell me?”

It’s not quite what he should be asking, but it’s what comes out. And his voice is annoyingly desperate, and he hates showing off so many emotions like this, especially in a public space, but he can’t stop himself.

“What about last night?” Tubbo asks.

“Last night?” Eret echoes, and looks to Tommy, who blinks, his gaze darting between the three of them but landing on Wilbur most of all, and it’s like he’s nervous, almost, anxious about how he’s going to react, and—does he think he’s going to be angry about this? Perhaps he is, but only in the sense that he’s angry that Tommy took such a stupid risk. Below that anger, that anger born of fear, his pride burns bright. Surely, Tommy must know that?

“I—look, I knew you’d say no, alright?” he says. “But I knew that I could do it, so I did it. Simple as that.”

Simple as that, he says. As if he didn’t give up his greatest possessions. As if he didn’t win them the war, win them their freedom, win for them the reality of the values that this country was founded upon.

“What’s going on?” Eret asks.

“Yeah, does this have something to do with what you were saying to me the other night?” Tubbo says, and then looks at him. “Wilbur, what are you talking about? What happened last night?”

Tommy sighs, and says nothing. Wilbur swallows, and maintains eye contact with him as he speaks, searching for some kind of reaction.

“Dream came to me this morning,” he says, and does not miss Tommy’s flinch at the name, “not even an hour ago. He said—he said that we were free. That the war was over, that L’Manberg was its own nation, that he wanted to set up a meeting for diplomatic ties and whatnot. He called me the president. And, um, he said that you won it for us, Tommy.” He pauses, just for a moment, trying to get his emotions under control. He mostly fails. “He said that you came to him, last night, and you traded your discs to him for L’Manberg’s freedom.”

“You did what?”

Tubbo’s voice is dismayed and disbelieving all at once. And Tommy flinches, draws into himself a little, and that’s not the reaction Wilbur would have expected, but literally none of this is what he would have expected.

“Yeah,” he says, sounding quiet, a bit defeated. “Yeah, I—I did. I knew he’d take the deal. And I just wanted—I wanted the war to be over, yeah? Before anybody got hurt. And I knew this would work, so I just went and did it.”

“You couldn’t have, though,” he finds himself saying, before he even know what he’s going to say next. “Maybe you could’ve guessed that he’d go for it, but—Tommy, what if they’d killed you? Taken what they wanted and killed you right then and there? I just—” He breaks off running a hand through his hair, remembering too late that he’s got his beanie on. His fingers dislodge it, and he readjusts it with more fervor than is necessary. “I just can’t believe you did that without telling someone. Without telling—” Me, he wants to say, but holds himself back. No matter his feelings regarding Tommy, the deep respect and even deeper love that has grown in him over the course of their friendship, he doesn’t have a monopoly on Tommy’s attention. Perhaps he would have preferred for Tommy to tell him, but he’d have settled for Tommy telling anyone.

“What, are you worried?” Tommy says, and Wilbur only spares a second to wonder why he sounds so disbelieving, because—

“Yes,” he bursts out. “Gods, Tommy! Dream came to me with this and my first thought was that you’d died! Or that you hadn’t made it back, that you were out there somewhere, alone and needing help, and I didn’t—Tommy. Tommy, please tell me you thought of this. Please tell me, tell me that you were prepared, at least. Tell me that you—” He cuts himself off again, shaking his head hard, and under any other circumstance, he would be kicking himself for the display, for the outburst of emotion, for the lack of eloquence, but he thinks he can be excused for the moment.

Tommy’s mouth works for a second.

“Oh,” he finally says, weakly. “Um, right. Sorry, Wilbur. No, I had it handled, trust me. Sorry, I didn’t, um. Didn’t mean to scare you like that. Sort of just—did it, y’know?”

“It’s okay,” he says, even though it kind of isn’t, because Tommy’s continued to shrink into himself, and he doesn’t want that. “It’s okay, Tommy, I’m just glad you’re okay. And, gods above, what you did—” He steps forward, then, unable to help himself, and takes Tommy by the shoulders. Tommy stares at him with wide eyes. “I never would have asked that of you. I couldn’t believe it when Dream told me. And Tommy, I—I’m so, so sorry. But I am so damn proud of you. You hear me? So damn proud. I know what that must have taken, for you to do that. And I’m so fucking proud of you.” He smiles, then, wide and a bit watery. He’s not going to cry, he’s not, but emotion is rising up in his throat, thick and overpowering. “You did it, Tommy. You won us L’Manberg.”

Tommy returns the smile, if a bit tentatively. “Yeah,” he says, “I guess I did, didn’t I?” And then, the smile widens, and he puffs out his chest, putting his hands on his hips. “I hear that makes me the leader now. You’re speaking to Mister High President King Lord Innit, so show me the respect you owe me, eh?”

“Absolutely the fuck not,” he replies, but he’s laughing. “No, no, enough out of you, go, take Tubbo and go get yourself whatever you want out of our rations, you’ve fucking earned it, Toms.”

Tommy offers him one last grin, and then he ducks out of his grip, grabbing Tubbo’s hand and dragging him in the direction of their storage. He can hear Tubbo’s voice already, high and offended at the fact that Tommy went and did this without telling him, and perhaps all is right with the world after all. Some things do not change, even when everything else does.

He went to sleep last night a rebel, a general. He woke up a president. How about that?

“Do you think he’s alright?” Eret asks, and he starts, almost having forgotten they were there.

“Probably not,” he admits. “Not entirely. Those discs meant a lot to him. But we’ve got time to figure it out.” He turns to them, then, makes eye contact with himself in the reflection of their sunglasses. “What was he doing with you, before we walked up?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” they reply. “He came up to me, sort of yelling a bit? Punched me in the shoulder a few times. Couldn’t figure out what that was about. Then he thanked me for something, and then he hugged me, which was a bit odd, and then he did the, uh, thing, with the holding my face? And then you and Tubbo arrived. I honestly don’t know what any of that was about at all.”

He hums, and looks out after the boys, at their retreating backs. As he watches, Tommy slings an arm around Tubbo’s shoulders, his other hand gesticulating wildly.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” he says softly. “It’s Tommy. He makes it his job to be unpredictable.”

“You’re right about that,” Eret says. “I suppose congratulations are in order, President Soot?”

President Soot. It’s got a nice ring to it. He is the leader of a free country now, and it is thanks to the kid he sees as a younger brother, whether he’ll admit as much out loud or not. He is the leader of a free country, and that means there is much work to be done.

But he gives himself a moment longer, and smiles at the way the midday sun shines in Tommy’s hair.

It’s all for them, after all. Land is just land; as long as he can give his loved ones the freedom they deserve, that’s enough for him.

#mcyt #dsmp #dream smp #dsmp fic #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #dreamwastaken #tubbo #eret #/rp #cw swearing #cw death mention #cw injury mention #both of those are hypothetical #cat writes fic #long post #time travel au #surprise!! bet you weren't expecting a new chapter of this today!!!#:DDD

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just-fandomthings · 3 years

Note

For the kiss writing prompt 💕 frostiron + 29. "...as a promise"

Read on AO3 (Post Avengers, 2012)

...as a promise.

“During my invasion, why did you offer me a drink? You were trying to stall, I’m aware, but why was that the method you chose?”

Stark startles, dropping the gauntlet he’s working on. “What the hell, warn a guy before you appear like that, would you? I’ve got a heart condition.”

“Apologies,” Loki says honestly. “I would have thought you were expecting me; JARVIS told me you agreed I could come down.”

“Yeah, I said you could, but I wasn’t expecting you to be here thirty seconds later. Doesn't matter, I heard you say ‘drink’, are you here to finally collect on my offer?”

“Sir, Loki asked permission to join you ten minutes ago,” JARVIS inputs.

Stark blinks. “Oh. Guess I lost track of time. So, what was your question?”

Loki clears his throat. “I was wondering why you offered me a drink in your tower when you first came to threaten me.”

Stark gives him a strange look. “Well, I needed the bracelets behind the bar so I’d have a suit in case we fought- or, in your case, if you decided to throw me out a window.”

The words are said lightly but Loki still grimaces. “That doesn’t explain why you offered me the drink,” he points out after a moment.

“Why not? I needed to get my bracelets and was planning to pour myself a drink to keep you distracted, so I offered you one too. I’m not sure what answer you’re looking for here.”

“I was not your guest, you owed me nothing. I was your enemy who had just killed your friend- you should have left your armor on when you came inside, instead of selecting a new armor to don.”

“The other one was damaged,” Stark says. “Needed the upgrade- besides, do I have to remind you that was my tower you were using as home base? JARVIS had my back the entire time.”

“Indeed I did,” JARVIS agrees.

“Is this you trying to tell me I’m reckless?” Stark squints at him. “Trying to tell me not to take on an enemy in battle when I’m out of armor or something? Because I gotta tell you, out of everyone on this team except maybe Bruce, I was expecting you to understand that I am more than just-“

“No, that’s not it,” Loki interrupts quickly. “Well, I would rather you not die since you are the least annoying person on this team I’ve been forced on, but I know that you are more than well-equipped to handle any difficult situation with no more than the clothes you are wearing.”

“Thank you, I don’t know why people always assume I’m helpless outside of my armor. And right answer, by the way, I was gonna stick Dum-E on you with the fire extinguisher if you were trying to pull a Cap on me. So, what’s with the third degree, what’re you trying to figure out?”

“I suppose, I am trying to ask why you were polite to me,” Loki mutters. “You did cleverly insult my manhood not a mere minute later, but you saw me in your building, in your home, and your response was to offer me a drink. You certainly weren’t expecting me to accept and talk with you, so why offer it?”

“Uh, common courtesy? Because I wanted to?” Stark frowns at him. “Either of those, both of them really, have your pick. I really don’t see what the big deal is, you know. It‘s not like I had time to stop and think everything through beforehand, so I just did it. And either way, I was going to get a drink as a stalling tactic so I could get to my armor, so why not offer you one too? You haven’t even taken me up on it in the three months you’ve been here, by the way, what's up with that? I thought you would have, to be honest.”

Loki is quiet for a moment. “May I do so later this evening?”

“Seriously?” At Stark’s incredulous inflection, Loki bristles, about to take it back, insult him, and storm out, but Stark surprises him by agreeing, “About time you took me up on my offer! I’m game, but I need to finish this upgrade first. Is my penthouse at eight-thirty alright, maybe later?”

“It’s not as if I will be busy with nefarious plans at that hour,” Loki huffs. “Yes, that is fine.”

Stark grins. “It’s a date then.”

The first two minutes of their conversation is stilted and awkward, with neither of them apparently knowing what to say. It lasts until Stark glances at him, drains the rest of his glass of scotch and goes, “Oh what the hell, I’m going for it. Please don’t smite me for this, okay, because I know you’ve gotten defensive every time someone has asked, but I really want to know about your Seiðr. How you learned it- I’m assuming you were taught- what the scope of your abilities is, and mainly, how it works. From one genius to another, can you please give me some answers?”

Loki blinks, retort dying on his lips. “You truly wish to know?”

“Uh, why would I not? It's probably the most powerful and complex thing I’ve ever come across- which hurts to admit- and I know nothing about it, which sucks, by the way. I hate not knowing things, especially things that interest me.”

“And my Seiðr interests you?”

“Yeah, thought I’d made that pretty obvious by now. I mean, Cap told me off for practically drooling during that battle last week when you eviscerated those doombots. I would have paid good money to see Doom’s face when he saw you literally rip his bots apart with just a wave of your hand.”

“That is but a simple trick,” Loki murmurs. “You are truly fascinated by my Seiðr, aren’t you?”

Stark’s gaze is expressive and searching for a moment before he nods. “It’s probably the coolest thing I’ve ever seen, and I don’t say that lightly.”

Loki exhales slowly. He thinks Stark might just be genuine. “What do you want to know first?”

It takes only an hour of discussion for them to rearrange the furniture of the penthouse against the wall to give them an open floor space so Loki can show off his Seiðr. Stark keeps up with his conversations remarkably well for a mortal, far surpassing Loki’s expectations, and he finds himself relaxing, indulging in discussion of the more technical aspects of his Seiðr.

When they finally call it a night, hours into the morning, Loki is surprised when he finds himself wishing to stay longer and discuss his Seiðr further with Stark. So few have ever been kind in consideration of his Seiðr, even less have expressed an interest in it, and for Stark to have done both...

Loki doesn’t have words to describe it.

(Later, Loki will consider that evening as the dawn of their friendship.)

It is invigorating to engage in a battle of wits and intellect with Stark, Loki soon comes to find. Such was what had initially impressed him about Stark when he had been under the control of The Other, but with his presence in his mind gone, Loki finds himself naturally drawn to the inventor now. Their conversations are thrilling, and Loki finds himself leaping at the chance to flex his intellect with Stark.

They spend the following months spending an increasing amount of time together, even more so following the cease of Stark’s relationship with Pepper Potts. (Stark isolates for two weeks after that, before he emerges with an impressive performance of being fine.) They discuss in length his Seiðr, Stark’s technology, and other pieces of their lives that they both find interesting.

Stark’s technology, in particular, holds Loki’s attention, for while the designs that Stark has managed to come up with are far superior to anything else on Midgard, a select few are also unlike anything he has come across in his travels of the Realms. It’s an impressive feat, and Loki tells him so.

Loki is also especially fond of Stark’s creations, finding himself impressed by how his bots seem to have such curiosity and personality. (Dum-E and U both, he quickly realizes, are fiercely loyal of Stark.)

As their conversations of his Seiðr continue, it grows impossible to go without mentioning Frigga. Loki isn’t sure what he expects Stark’s reaction to be when he first mentions her, but Stark’s gentle smile and, “She sounds incredible, she must be proud of how talented you are,” far surpasses anything he had expected. The sentiment touches him, and something in their dynamic changes that night.

(Perhaps, it is because that is the night Stark changes to Tony.)

Despite this, they still do not engage in conversation easily about personal topics, both of them with too many difficult stories to wish to recall such information. Still, however, there are many nights where their respective nightmares leave them stripped of their shields, with only vulnerability left behind. It is on those nights that their bond is solidified; empathy and understanding found through sharing stories of past tortures and betrayals.

During one of those nights, Tony tells him of a man called Stane, sharing with him how Dum-E first, and then Pepper, had saved his life. His voice is broken, no more than a whisper, and his hand remains firmly on the device in his chest the entire time he speaks; a further testament to the pain of that betrayal.

Loki vows to him in that moment that he will never betray Tony, he swears it, for he would rather stab his own heart than cause his (only) friend pain in any way.

Tony just looks over at him, his expression sad and resigned all of a sudden. “I don’t think that’s a promise you want to make,” he says quietly. “Not when I’ll likely give you a reason to break it.”

“You know me; I say no less than what I mean,” Loki tells him. “And I can think of no reason that would ever make me want to hurt you or betray you.” He has betrayed others throughout his life, for reasons so little as for fun (stabbing Thor), but he knows he could never harm Tony.

Tony just shrugs. He doesn’t seem to believe him, but he provides no further argument. The blanket covering their laps as they sit together on the sofa suddenly feels stifling, but Loki resolutely ignores it. He understands that Tony’s skepticism is not personal, it is just a mere consequence of being betrayed time and time again by the people he cared about most. Loki knows he would hesitate to accept such a promise as well, even from Tony. Life has taught them both that it’s not safe to trust.

(Perhaps together, they can learn to trust again.)

The other members of the team remain wary of him, distrustful to the point that Loki is certain he will never be able to earn an ounce of trust with them. Outside of Tony, Thor seems to be the most accepting of the fact he is serving a ten year sentence for his attack on New York as a member of their team. Knowing he has Tony‘s friendship makes it easy, however, to disregard the fact that the others do not trust him, even on the field of battle. Never mind that his Seiðr has been limited to keep him in check, they clearly do not trust him to fight on their side. Loki pays this no mind; their belief in him or lack thereof is of no importance to him.

When he finally meets Pepper Potts, Col. James Rhodes, and a man named Happy Hogan, they all threaten him past the point of any return should he hurt Tony in any way. He believes them. The CEO of Tony’s company, his ex, however is the one whose threat genuinely gives him pause. He knows better than to anger her.

But for all their initial threats, the three of them all seem to accept him as Tony’s friend, therefore, as a part of their lives as well. It is awkward at times to be around Potts or Hogan, or even Rhodes when he is able to return home, but those moments of awkwardness, he finds, are worthwhile if it means he can remain at Tony’s side.

It’s a thought that should scare him, that he wants to be wherever Tony is, but he finds himself oddly at peace with that fact. They have grown close over the last five, almost six months since they first shared a drink in Tony’s penthouse, and Tony is incredible, a force of light wherever he goes; it is impossible not to be drawn to Tony, he thinks.

It’s a brisk day in mid-March when he and Tony crowd together on the sofa in his penthouse with a video feed in front of them to watch the fallout of their latest prank on Barton. Tony bursts out laughing at Barton’s indignation and leans against Loki as he praises their prank, saying they absolutely have to prank Cap next. Loki is overcome with joy realizing just how lucky and happy he is to have a friend who partakes and enjoys mischief just as much as he does.

That is also the moment Loki realizes he’s falling in love.

Tony has gone quiet as his side, eyes still sparkling with joy even as he asks, “You okay, Lokes?"

“I’m fine,” Loki reassures. “Just thinking of what to include in our next prank against Captain America himself.”

“I love the way you think,” Tony laughs, snuggling into his side the way he seems to do so frequently, now that Loki thinks about it. “Well, hit me with it. What’re you thinking?”

It’s easy enough to conjure a list of possible pranks at a moment’s notice, and from that moment onward, Loki’s feelings fall to the back of his mind, always quietly lingering in his every thought. Given enough time, he knows they will become a force he cannot hope to control, but that is a problem he can deal with in the future; the present includes planning a prank, and that comes first.

(Later, Loki will consider the moment he realized he was developing feelings for Tony as the day everything changed.)

“Can I join you?”

Loki startles minutely, so caught up in his reading, so relaxed, that he had not been paying attention to his surroundings in any capacity. But this is Tony who has come to his bedroom, and Loki knows he need not keep his guard up when the inventor is around. "Are you alright?" Loki asks, lowering his book to his lap.

"Fine," Tony says automatically. He looks uncertain. "I know you're reading and it's late, so if you want me to leave, don’t hesitate to say so.”

“Nonsense, I always enjoy your company,” Loki reassures absently, frowning at Tony’s haggard experience. He gestures to the space next to him on the bed, adding unnecessarily, “Please, sit.”

Tony hesitates for a moment and then sits down on the bed next to him, leaning back. His hands twist unnaturally together; a sign of his anxiety.

Loki marks his page and sets his book on the nightstand. “Do you wish to talk about what has you so tense?”

“Not really,” Tony mutters. “Not like there’s much to say anyway though. I fell asleep working on an upgraded set of arrows for Clint and woke up screaming. J said you were awake still, so I came up.” He pauses and then adds, "You've been reading all this time? Usually you call it a night at midnight."

"I got enthralled in an old journal on Seiðr and lost track of time. When I realized it was past two, I figured I would wait until I came to a natural stopping point before I retired for the night,” Loki admits ruefully. "I'll be tired in the morning, but it will be well worth it."

"I think I'm rubbing off on you," Tony says lightly. "Staying up until all hours of the night to finish something is my shtick, not yours."

"You have a point. You did, after all, initially encourage my pranks, then you took to assisting me with them, and now you have me staying up to all hours of the night," Loki points out, teasing, participating in the lighthearted atmosphere Tony seems to be trying to create. A distraction for his nightmare, perhaps, and Loki is happy to help. "You are a rather bad influence on me."

"Guilty as charged," Tony agrees, snorting. "Though I'm pretty sure everything prank-related is a result of you being a bad influence on me."

"A mere pleasant consequence of our friendship. You knew what you were getting yourself into when you first let me share a drink with you in your penthouse."

"I did knowingly sign up for all the mischief and chaos, you're right." Tony shrugs, looking pleased. "But as Rhodey will be more than happy to tell you, I caused plenty of trouble throughout my life, so you sadly don't get the privilege of claiming responsibility for all of my evil ways."

"I plan to ask about those stories, just so you know."

Tony laughs, looking lighter now than he had when he had first appeared in Loki's doorway. "Pretty sure you'll have to clear your schedule for the weekend when you do- but keep in mind, Rhodey did also participate in a lot of my plans. He was my partner in crime. So don't let his exasperated tone fool you, he's just as much a prankster as we are."

"In that case, we will have to include him in our plans to prank Thor whenever both your colonel and Thor are present in the Tower," Loki muses.

"Deal," Tony responds instantly. He goes quiet just a moment later, his expression darkening a little.

Loki frowns at the sudden shift in mood. "What's wrong?"

"I should probably go, let you finish the chapter you were reading so you can go to bed."

“I am more than happy to have you here," Loki says carefully, sensing that there is something else weighing on his mind. "But if you wish to go, that is your choice to make.”

“I don’t want to keep you up.”

“Then prepare for bed and lay with me,” Loki says without thinking. He pauses, realizing what he just said. Norns, he had not meant to offer that, but the offer has been extended and he is not one to take back his words. Still though, he clarifies quickly, “It’s an innocent offer, no more than the simple opportunity for you to not be alone tonight, if you don't want to be.”

Tony looks startled. “You want me to stay?”

“You are welcome to, if you want.”

“Why?”

“You are my friend,” Loki says simply. “We have fallen asleep watching movies together on the sofa before and that is fine, is it not?” At Tony’s nod he continues, “So too would your decision to stay here for the night. Nightmares are painful, and if I can offer some small comfort or reassurance of safety, I would happily do so.”

“You’re sure?”

“I mean every word I’ve shared,” Loki says gently.

Tony sighs and leans against him, his head on Loki’s shoulder. “Thanks,” he says softly. “For letting me stay and for not judging me.”

“You know how common my own night terrors are,” Loki points out. "I have nothing to judge."

Tony shrugs but doesn’t offer a response.

“Go, get ready for bed,” Loki says, nudging him with his elbow. “I have placed an additional toothbrush and nightwear for you in the bathroom.”

Tony nods silently and gets up, disappearing into the bathroom. Loki uses the privacy to lay down, trying to quell his racing thoughts and pounding heart. There is something charged and vulnerable between them; it feels like he is balancing precariously on a fraying line. What may happen if it snaps, he’s unsure.

When Tony exits the bathroom a few minutes later, he pauses at the side of the bed for a moment before he pulls back the covers. He doesn’t lay down, however, just says quietly, “You don’t seem as bothered anymore to be serving part of your sentence on the Avengers.”

“Is that a question?” Loki asks, never one to make things easy when he can help it.

“An observation, I think. Am I wrong?”

“No, you are not wrong,” Loki says. He takes a shuddering breath and admits, “I hated this team in the beginning. I was no more than a collection of broken pieces being held together by pure spite, and being placed on this team felt like a death sentence. I expected to hate every moment of my time here, for an abundance of reasons.” He swallows hard, suddenly certain he should not keep going, not when he has already stripped himself bare.

“But?”

As always with Tony, he is the exception to the expectations and restrictions Loki sets for himself. He finds himself staring up at the ceiling and admitting, “But I made a friend, someone who cares about me genuinely for all that I am. It took the work of months before I realized that all the reasons I expected to hate being on this team were insignificant in comparison to the friendship I had found. These last several months, I have found myself slowly recovering from the damage The Other inflicted on me- I am trying to at least- I am trying not to be the monster I was destined to be, and I somehow even find myself happy on occasion, something I thought I was only capable of when creating chaos.”

His bedroom is quiet for a moment. “Sounds like your friend is pretty special,” Tony quips.

“Special is not the most accurate term; short, on the other hand, or perhaps, talkative, or even-”

“You're an ass,” Tony interrupts him, laughing. His expression is pensive, however, as he lays down on his side and looks over at him. “Is that all we are though, just friends?”

Loki freezes. It takes a moment for him to remember to breathe, and then he exhales slowly, rolling over on his side to face Tony as well. “I’m not sure,” he admits, “Are we just friends, in your mind?”

“I asked you first,” Tony points out, smirking a little.

“I gave you a response, however vague, and then asked your thoughts. It’s your turn.”

“Uh huh, you want my thoughts on what exactly? You haven’t really specified what we’re discussing.”

Loki refrains from rolling his eyes despite the way his heart is threatening to pound out of his chest. “What are your thoughts on us,” he emphasizes. “That is what I wish to know.”

Tony’s eyes search him for a moment, perhaps trying to assess if this is part of a joke or if he is being genuine. “I think that you’re a royal pain in the ass a lot of the time, as well as dramatic and passionate, but I like that about you. You’re also mischievous and clever; you're a genius that speaks the same language as me. I also think you have feelings for me, just like I do for you. And I want to see if there can be an us...but maybe after I kiss you?”

“Is that a promise?”

“The romantic speech or the kissing part?”

“The part where you mentioned wanting to see if there can be an us, do you mean that?”

“Of course I mean it." Tony pouts at him.

It suddenly is so easy now to see what has been in front of him for months: their close proximity to each other, the way they are drawn to each other's side, their flirting; it has all been leading to this.

Loki leans over and kisses him. Tony gives a quiet sound of surprise and then relaxes, easing into the kiss with an approach that somehow already feels familiar.

“We need to do this more often,” Tony murmurs when they pull back. He's grinning.

Loki laughs, happy. “That is a promise I can easily keep,” he vows, and kisses him again to prove his point.

End.

#frostiron #frostiron fanfic #tony stark #loki #my fanfic #this was a lot of fun!! the concept of a promise was something that was very difficult for me because I struggle with trust #it’s hard to write what I don’t really feel ya know? I had to build their trust in order to answer this #but it was a lot of fun! I just hope I got their characterizations and voices right #this one is also terrifying to answer for some reason lol...i've never attempted a fic like this #here's hoping it's well reserved lol #also Rel i adore you so much- thank you for this prompt! <3 <3

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fe-semi-decent-scenarios · 4 years

Note

How do the BL students cope with missing their s/o? (like they're on a mission or something and won't be back for a long time) Bonus points for including how they react to seeing them again lol. Congrats on the big 100 btw

[Thank you! This is a little late but I was amazed to see so many people reading these posts.I’m pretty proud of this one.I wrote this as a ‘first time they’re apart’ kind of scenario. Hope it is to your liking! :3]

Dimitri:

Karma really does bite, and boy does it do so hard

More often than not it is Dimitri leaving you behind for missions. Being the leader of the Lions meant that he was stationed at almost every important battle. Sometimes you’d join, and others the professor would decide to have someone else take up arms. No biggie, you know? He never complained since it guaranteed your safety.

He didn’t even think of the possibility of a role reversal. One where you’d be sent out while he’s left behind. Up until now he was always by your side, but Manuela knew his limits better than anyone. She insisted he take the month off to rest.

Once again, no biggie. He’d much rather be productive but with some convincing he easily gave in. Everyone departed for the monthly mission and he decided to invest some of the extra time on his hands into an evening with you

He was about to search for you, but then memory did it’s job.

“Ah, that’s right. They departed with their battalion this morning...”

Dimitri wasn’t used to the silence of an empty Monestary. Was it always this hollow when the army was deployed? There were some people, yes. However most areas appeared almost lifeless.

It brought up some unpleasant memories to say the least. Ones of a dusk castle, strangers on every corner, empty dinner tables, and cold nights spent staring up from his balcony.

The time he spends without Dedue glued to his side is full of reflection. Once he’s trained, eaten, studied up, etc. He’ll stroll around the monastery and think of what his life has become

How fragile the peace is. How much longer will it last?

He wanted to talk with someone. The silence was deafening and he wished for a distraction before the voices made their appearance.

They did.

He wished for you to come home. Despite the voices screaming that he had no right to long for your comfort, the desire still remained.

Was it the same for you when he’d depart? This...lonely?

He hoped not.

Since when had Dimitri become assimilated to the daily nonsense that was his life?

Dedue had caught on to his highness’ feelings instantly. Dimitri was more reminiscent than usual, and often his walks would take him to your room. He wouldn’t enter, just look at the door as if expecting it to open. He wasn’t one to talk of the past as it made him uncomfortable, but sometimes Dedue would catch him smiling at nothing. It was a welcome change to have happy memories.

When you come home it’s as if Dimitri has a new aura. Well, maybe not entirely but he has a more solemn look in his eyes when they meet yours. He spends the first day being caught up on politics with the Professor and Seteth, but for many nights beyond the return he seeks your company

He wants to hear your voice. The one he craved for when the silence became intolerable

“I’ve returned my beloved, would you care to tell that story from the other night again? I know it has only been one day but I would love to hear it.”

Dedue:

Time alone with you was already a rarity, so your complete absence didn’t dieter him as much as one would think. Dedue’s schedule rarely has a slot for free-time, and so the days pass on like seconds

As long as there is no specific reason to worry then he refrains from doing so. Dedue genuinely believes in your strength and capabilities so he won’t needlessly fret over nothing. He has his own duties to attend to just as you do.

However, this doesn’t mean he feels nothing on the matter. Others can gossip about him all they want but his nationality doesn’t define his personality. Not that he cares, since his stone exterior hides signs of weakness

Let’s get this straight: he does miss you. While not in surplus, your time together is precious to him. He notices how your seat is empty during lessons and meetings. He unconsciously checks the training hall’s door during his regime, impatiently waiting for you to pop in and say your daily ‘hello’. He’s painfully aware of the extra pair of gardening gloves in his tool pail. Dedue knows that you are gone and it has an impact.

He just ignores it. Dedue knows that when duty calls it must come before personal issues. Even if there is no contact between you two, he would rather no letters than one relaying distress

If his highness asks about his feelings Dedue’s replies are short and curt. He does not wish for any worry or pity.

One small sign that Dedue is off-put is that he becomes forgetful. It’s something only those who know him well can pick up on. For example: he won’t bring any writing utensils to a meeting. To a stranger this is a common mishap that happens to everyone. Only people who know Dedue well will see that someone as responsible as him wouldn’t forget something so minute

Another is the short sighs he lets out. Nothing drawn out or dramatic, just quick puffs of air through the nose- kind of like a huff. They’re very difficult to catch and are a habit when he feels impatient or restless

The day you come home isn’t a large extravaganza. Prince Dimitri accompanies him to greet the returning troops, but it doesn’t take a wise man to see that he mainly came for moral support. You were his friend as well, and he also wanted to see Dedue happy.

When you come into sight Dedue approaches as if it’s a normal day. Your appearance is a bit too worn-down for his liking, and he says so. He asks if the journey went well, and whether it did or not he gives a minuscule smile

If you return it he’ll pat your head. A welcome home, if you will

“Come. Let us speak of the time we were apart. I would like to hear of your travels”

Felix:

Simple solution. Whenever Felix feels as if he’s missing your presence he’ll go find you.

Oh wait

He can’t lmao

It doesn’t hit him how big your role is in his life until you’re forced to be apart. All it took was a few days for Felix to feel like something was missing

At first he’s in denial. What is he, a child? A grown man doesn’t need someone to lean on, or keep him company, or check on him...or to give him encouragement......make him laugh....listen to his problems............okay. Maybe he does.

At the beginning he seems put together but gradually as the days go on Felix becomes socially intolerant. The only person he wants to talk with is you, and you’re not there. Anyone else can buzz off or they’re getting snapped at

No one says anything either. Sometimes you can’t when the only solution is so far away

Felix works extra hard when you’re gone. No one’s there to force much needed breaks onto him. From morning till dusk he’ll train and only stop for meals.

It’s his distraction. Every time that familiar pang shows up the training dummy gets another slice

What’s happened to him? He was never so dependent on another person. Yeah, he has people that he cares about but their presence was never a necessity in his life

The pain only intensifies as he thinks of what you’re doing, the dangers you’re facing, other (men/women) making you smile-

Oh....Oh no. Dear god he’s in love que the dummy’s head being sliced off

He’s waiting in your room on the day you get back. You’ll walk in to see him reading at your desk, only for the book to snap shut when you open the door

A bit roughly he’ll pull you in for a hug. Not too tight, if you wanted to escape it you could

“Look. I’ll only say this once so you better listen...don’t leave for that long ever again. If you have to then I’m going with. No arguments”

Ashe:

He’s fine. It’s okay. Ten days in and life goes on, you know? Today he played with some of the stray cats in the monastery like he normally would. The only off part was that he forgot to bring fish treats, normally you’d do that.

Then he ordered some sweet buns for dessert after dinner; it was his usual order on your rare dates. Those days you’d snatch one but this time they were all his

He had them in the garden with some mint tea and watched the sun set. The last time he did that you decided to braid his hair while he told bad puns about his patchy facial hair fiasco. This time he viewed in tranquil silence

Later in the evening he practiced archery to unwind. Lately Caspar agreed to be his training partner with you gone. He’d collect the arrows shot and help reposition the targets. You would normally do the same and in turn Ashe would wake up extra early to help you in the morning.

At night he curled up in bed with “Loog and the Maiden of Wind,” picking up from where he left off. It was easy since you had given him a copy with a built-in cloth bookmark for his birthday. He loves it to pieces.

Please come home When his eyes began to feel heavy he tucked it under his pillow for the day.

Under the covers he shifted to get comfortable, and just like every night he ended up cuddling one of his pillows

How much longer

He closed his eyes

....

..........

What was taking so long? The professor never mentioned that the journey would take weeks? There haven’t been letters either...

Where are you? What are you doing? Do you miss him? Are you eating properly? Are you sleeping right? He should have asked Seteth to let him accompany you. Are you on your way home? Should he go ask? No, it’s late. Asking now would be a bother-

He misses you so much. No amount of time spent absorbing himself in different hobbies makes the discomfort in his chest go away. Everything reminds him of you.

When you come home he’s front and center at the gate. The professor had taken pity on the boy (courtesy of Flayn’s plea) and arranged his schedule to be free all day. He spent it chatting with gatekeeper until troops appeared in the distance

The moment you’re in sight he’s skipping down the stairs and greets you with the warmest embrace. The second you pull back he’s peppering kisses on your cheeks.

“You’re back! I’ve missed you so much I can’t even begin to explain. Let’s go eat dinner and you can tell me all about the trip”

Sylvain:

Is it weird that with you gone Sylvain actually begins to be a productive human being?

He spends the newfound spare time at the stables with the horses, or helping with chores around the monastery. Very rarely is he found goofing off

Weird. Most would expect him to let loose considering how you have him on a ‘ball and chain,’ as he puts it

So???? How come he chooses now to be responsible.

Simple. He only acts rebellious to get a rise out of you

Just kidding lol. Only partially

While he does get a free show out of your nagging, it isn’t the reason he behaves like that. Neither why he’s suddenly ‘turned over a new leaf’

Sylvain highly respects you. Not only do you work hard but you’re also one of the most genuine people he knows. He’ll never say it to your face but before he loved you Sylvain looked to you as a role model. He never could have imagined that someone with such an authentic set of emotions would become his partner

He also puts you through hell with all the trouble he gets in. Anyone else would have ended the relationship by now with so many FALSE rumors of adultery on his end. Yet you never gave up on him.

In short, you’ve stood by him through thick and thin. From daily mess ups to the more deeper problems. You’ve been a major pillar that he leans on.

So that’s what he’s going to be for you. While you’re away he’s going to pick up the slack and make sure there’re no messes waiting for you to come home to

Just him and maybe a few snide jokes. You know, a couple of dramatic whines about all the trouble he went to in making sure your room stayed clean

Sometimes it gets difficult to turn down the invites from his peers, but he holds strong. The change is so drastic that Byleth even jokes about sending you away more often.

He takes it with a grain of salt. They’d never exploit their students like that and he knows it

When you arrive home he’s waiting patiently in your room. In one arm there’s a blanket and in the other a feather duster c’mon he has to make this believable

“Well there’s the (man/woman) of the hour. Do you realize the horrors that I’ve endured these past weeks? I cleaned this room EVERY DAY. You owe me big time!”

Sylvain demands that for all the worry, strife, and hard labor you put him through; he deserves an afternoon nap with his partner. Will you let him slack off?

Annette:

Busy, busy, busy!!!

She has so many chores to get done, books to read, people to talk to, and songs to sing

She hated to say goodbye, but eventually you’ll come home. This isn’t like before. You’re not like him.

Annette trusts you

She loves you

While you’re gone she’ll think of all the things you can do together when you get back. What’s a better way to use the time, right?

She 100% plans to blackmail you into treating her for lunch. How could you leave her behind to watch over everyone by herself? So cruel...

There are mild worries that fill her heart. Thoughts on your health for one. Whether you’re skilled in faith or not it doesn’t matter to her.

She kind of wishes that the professor scheduled her to fight as well. However, things were better this way.

Annette will make sure you have somewhere wonderful to return to

She even writes a small ‘welcome home’ jingle! Anything to bring out your smile

People will occasionally ask how she’s holding up. After all, if Annette doesn’t worry about herself then of course others will do it for her.

And yeah. Sometimes it does get rough. She’s human and naturally her partner means the world to her. Who the hell would be okay with sending their loved one away?

It’s just that if she isn’t optimistic than who will be. Who’s going to give you encouragement when you need it most? Isn’t that what being a couple is about? To have faith and believe in each other?

That’s why she’s okay. She’ll sing those fear demons away and take comfort in knowing you’ll come home with everyone else

And when you do she’s there with a few of your favorite flowers. She’ll congratulate you on a job well done whether the battle was a win or lose, and literally force you into her dorm to talk the hours away.

“Welcome home! I had plenty of time on my hands while you were away so I wrote a small song...i-if it’s okay then can I sing it for you? I promise it’s not about tasty cakes this time haha!”

Mercedes:

The daily church hymn lifts her spirits. Mercedes’ devout faith is what supports her during moments of weakness

You’ve probably guessed this, but every day you’re in her prayers.

Not that you weren’t before, but now she spends a little more time mulling over possibilities of danger. Some extra blessings couldn’t hurt either

She does find her thoughts trailing over to you often as well. Not anything negative but instead the happier memories. Saying goodbye was a rough blow when realization hit that your return date wasn’t definite

Alas, the goddess will protect you. Mercedes steels herself to be patient and invest her energy into more productive things

Mercedes is sort of like the big sister of all her friends. The doting type. Without you around she has all this pent up affection, and the lions get the blunt end of it

They’re an outlet that she uses to distract herself from not having you around. Not that they necessarily mind it (maybe Felix but he’ll get over it)

The time she’d spend with you is used to bake for the monastery children, or help with chores. She uses it wisely and also works on some of her own hobbies.

You may or may not find some well-stitched embroidery on your socks. She goes all out and even offers to help mend Dimitri’s battle-worn cape. That thing needed a literal miracle to return to it’s former glory

Life isn’t much different aside from your lack of presence. With each day she finds herself looking forward to your return, and occasionally she’ll inquire with the professor about it. Mercedes is known for her patience, and it truly is a virtue in many cases. Definitely in this one.

When note of your future return arrives she can’t help but smile. If allowed she’ll ask to read the letter of notification herself and will do so with incredible focus. She’ll clutch one hand to her chest in relief before giving it back and leaving to return to her duties

and so it goes until your return. She might not be able to come meet you at the gate, but at first sighting she’ll engulf you in an embrace.

After a once-over for any injuries, she’ll insist that you have tea together. Hell, Mercedes would be happy if you two could just chat together on the nearest bench. There’s so much to talk of and now you two have all the time in the world

“It’s so nice to see you again! Oh my...it feels like forever since I have seen you smile. I almost forgot how contagious is is haha”

Ingrid:

If it was up to Ingrid than she would be positioned right at your side. You two work well as a duo both on and off of the field. The army would benefit from your skills being magnified as a team

She also wouldn’t have to deal with this ungodly sense of dread in the pit of her stomach. Don’t misunderstand- Ingrid isn’t the protective type. She trusts in your capabilities both as a fighter and person. It’s only that being away for so long is a rarity, and she needs time to adjust.

She’d just have to trust in the other people stationed at your side to do what she can’t

If she knows any of them personally then Ingrid 100% approaches to ask that they watch your back

That takes care of any worry, but not of the crack in her daily life

Ingrid has much on her shoulders. Her family, Fargeus’ future, her friends, what food’s being served in the dining hall, if it tastes good or not, the church, the ‘flame emperor’, and you of course.

She’s also the type of person who likes uniformity: a schedule. You’re a part of that and being so far disrupts it. She’s afraid that her personal emotions will tap into her ability to fulfill her duties

Everyone else assures her otherwise. Ingrid is known for always giving 110% so a while of just 100% is no big deal. She is allowed to be human

She’s allowed to miss you. Her friends assure her of it

She’s allowed to worry. There’s no need to sear shut her fears. After losing Glenn...well, it’s understandable.

She’s allowed to ask for news updates. The professor has encouraged this.

She’s allowed to go in your room if she needs alone time. You said so before leaving.

However, Ingrid doesn’t allow herself those comforts until days after your departure. When you said goodbye it unsettled her stomach in more ways than one. It took some time to sort through her emotions while still maintaining her responsibilities

It took everything for Ingrid to move on from the past, and this experience set in a sense of gratitude for all that she’s been given. It also was an opportunity for her to reminisce over what she has lost, and still has to do.

Needless to say, when you return Ingrid has gained a newfound confidence and comfort in not having a set schedule for life. Everything has always felt as if it needed to be rushed, but meeting you wasn’t something she had planned nor sped into. Spending some time to focus on her own personal goals aside from the ones preset for her before birth aided in Ingrid coming to terms with that.

“Hello. It’s been so long that I hardly recognize you! What? It’s a joke!...Yes, I know how to tell jokes- hold on this is supposed to be a heartfelt reunion so don’t ruin it!”

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atruththatyoudeny · 4 years

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Monthly Reads | October 2020

Happy 28th! I probably sound like a broken record already but I have to say it again: this fandom has an insane amount of talented writers! I am in awe! Every single one of you is my hero! ♥♥♥ Here are all the 23 fics I read and loved this month:

✧ Welcome to The Rivalry | 2tiedships2 | a/b/o - strangers to lovers - enemies to lovers - rivalry - college - 19k “Welcome home!” Niall yelled, clapping his hands in excitement. “Isn’t it great?” Louis looked between Niall and the house, unsure how to respond. “I don’t understand,” Louis finally managed to say. “Aren’t we a little old to be living so close to campus?” Niall scoffed. “You’re only twenty-four for fuck’s sake. There is still plenty of partying left for us to do. What better place than one street over from where a car was set on fire after the Michigan game last year?” “Is there proof of that? Did the car have Michigan plates or something? Is there a photo I can send in a DM to Wolfie?” As if on cue, a Twitter notification popped up on Louis’ Apple watch. He had tweeted again. Or a reverse You’ve Got Mail au inspired by the Ohio State/Michigan rivalry. Featuring duplex neighbors, (kind of) enemies to lovers, and an anonymous Twitter feud between omega Louis and alpha Harry.

✧ Back to Seventeen | crimsontheory | teacher - soccer coach - 26k As a first grade teacher in a small town in Illinois, Harry’s life is pretty simple. He loves his job, is close with his family, and has a best friend he would go to the ends of the earth for. When a new soccer coach starts at the local high school, things start to get a bit more exciting for Harry. Because that coach just happens to be Louis Tomlinson; the guy Harry was unrequitedly in love with in high school. Or the one where Louis moves back to his hometown and Harry realizes he’s still not over his high school crush.

✧ Sigh for Sigh | logogram | historical - a/b/o - regency - miscommunication - pining - marriage of convenience - 11k When his father's sudden illness forces Harry to get married in a hurry, he's delighted that Lord Louis Tomlinson is the one who makes him an offer. Being married to Louis is just as wonderful as he imagined, except for one thing-- they haven't mated yet. Or the one where they're both idiots, Harry's afraid to say what he's thinking, and Louis's just trying to be honorable.

✧ We Can Find a Place to Feel Good | yeah_alright | 1960s - High School - school dances - 8k 14-year-old Harry is ecstatic to finally be old enough to experience the time-honored tradition of school dances. But with each year that passes and each dance he attends, he’s realizing they’re not all he used to hope they’d be. Especially when he can't actually dance with the person he most wants to. Maybe he and Louis can figure out their own ways to keep dancing, anyway.

✧ At Risk, I Fold | clare328 | canon compliant - established relationship - angst - emotional hurt/comfort - miscommunication - anxiety - implied/referenced alcohol abuse - 15k 2015 is a stream of hotel rooms and whisky on the rocks, tired glances and touching hands under tables. It’s the bears and the bees under a rainbow sky, and Harry and Louis have to figure out how to grow up together, instead of apart.

✧ Carry These Feelings | LadyLondonderry | fae Á faires - established relationship - magic - 3k Harry is one of the fae, and has to return to Court once a year to please the Queen. He makes a detour on his way home to Louis. Two weeks and I'll be home.

✧ Hung Up High in the Gallery | lovelarry10 | friends to lovers - slow burn - pining - 14k "Louis, lay still!” Louis sighed loudly, and Harry watched his chest puff out as he inhaled deeply, the breath he let out loudly making Harry’s curls shift. “I am, stop being so fussy. Can I see yet?” “Nope,” Harry remarked, smiling to himself. “I’m doing your chest next. Shit, this is going to look so good, Lou. Your tan and these colours… why haven’t we done this before?” “Because we haven’t been this drunk in a while, and it never occurred to me until tonight?” ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ When Harry’s best friend, Louis, comes to support him at his art show, he decides they need to do some celebrating afterwards. How fast do the lines between friends and lovers get blurred ... or better, get painted?

✧ Love you in the dark | Perzikje | historical - wedding night - arranged marriage - dubious consent - 10k The story of a historical wedding night: in which Louis is quite unaware as to just how clueless his brand new husband is about sex. They try their best to figure it out together.

✧ Victorian Boy | audreyhheart | historical - victorian - royalty - enemies to friends to lovers - slow burn - angst - murder mystery - 101k Victorian AU. Harry the virgin Duke of Somerset knows little of love, while Louis the sly Duke of Warwick knows too much. When the two dukes come together for the Bilsdale fox hunt in York, Harry finds himself drawn into Louis' bed. But when secrets from Louis' dark past come to light, Harry fears that the fox isn't the only one being hunted.

✧ the anticipation of knowing you | sweetrevenge | strangers to lovers - neighbors - light angst - 13k Hello Neighbor! Just wanted to let you know that you were having sex so loud and scarily I called our building manager and security officer because I thought you were hurt. P.S. I sent them away when I heard you yell ‘cock’. I’m sorry that I heard that, but I wanted you to know in case they stopped by to check on you or something. Sorry! Your neighbor Louis Tomlinson in apartment #306 After Louis overhears his next door neighbor having sex, he doesn’t really expect anything but awkward hallway encounters to come from it. Instead, he’s surprised to find himself in a whirlwind pen pal relationship with the sweet, albeit loud, baker next door.

✧ We'll Be All Right | dandelionfairies | married couple - accridents - 13k Harry is performing his one night only show in LA but there are four very important people missing.

✧ The Last Song of Your Life | reminiscingintherain | famous/not famous - Rays of Sunhsine - homophobia - 21k As Harry glanced around at all of the faces, he froze as a very familiar pair of blue eyes leapt out at him. A pair of eyes that he hadn’t seen since before the One Direction bomb exploded. A pair of eyes that he never expected to see again. ~~~~ or the famous/not famous AU, with first love, miscommunication, interfering bandmates, and adorable little sisters.

✧ Her | jaerie | a/b/o - trans character - transitioning - dysphoria - anxiety - quarantine - 7k The buttery swipe of a high quality lipstick was almost a sexual experience in and of itself. This time a deep colour with purple undertones which drew out the emphasis of long, dark lashes and perfectly contoured cheekbones. It was a look for loose and styled curls, feeling the classy formal nightclub vibes reflected back from the mirror. The silky plum coloured slip dress would be perfect to debut. The tags still needed to be cut free from the new garment that hung in the closet, but tonight was the night to set it free. When Harry gets home, she can finally be who she wants to be. Letting someone else in always feels like a distant daydream to her... until it suddently isn't.

✧ Loving You's the Antidote | lululawrence | Stylinshaw - a/b/o - touch deprivation - hospitalization - soulmates - polyamory - anxiety - friends to lovers - no smut - 11k Nick and Harry had never been an obvious match. When eighteen-year-old Harry, newly presented as an omega, came home freshly bonded to Nick, a man nine years his elder and a beta no less, Anne had been more than skeptical and Eileen had shared some harsh words of her own. That didn’t deter them, though, and their families soon realised there really was something special about the bondmates that allowed them to work together almost seamlessly. It was only a few months later that Harry started getting sick. Or the one where Harry and Nick have been able to keep Harry's disorder at bay over the course of their relationship, but when they move to London and away from their support system, they find themselves in desperate need of help.

✧ Like A Neon Sign | reminiscingintherain | canon compliant - mentions of death - fluff - 8k Harry had always been perfect to Louis, through every age, through every stage, and in all the important ways, he was proud to have been able to witness the growth that Harry had experienced first-hand.

✧ We Had Everything | lightswoodmagic (sarah_writes) | exes to lovers - getting back together - famous/not famous - 3k “You know Harry’s coming, yeah?” Louis’ fingers twitched, faltering where he was straightening the knot in his tie as he tried to ignore the false nonchalance in Zayn’s voice. He had no idea how he missed the name on the invite list, how he skipped over the initials on the small gifts, didn’t notice the elegant swirl of Harry’s name inked onto an emerald green place card. Or, Louis and Harry fell apart, and Louis' never forgiven himself. He gets a second chance at Zayn and Liam's wedding.

✧ True To Your Heart | reminiscingintherain | Mulan AU - a/b/o - 13k The world was at war with itself. In the small country of Enilenif, in a tiny, often overlooked corner of the world, young Alphas were quickly signing up to fight, desperate to protect their Omegas and their country as Aidem began to attack their borders. A few defiant Omegas tried to enlist as well, but were firmly turned away with disapproving looks by the staff in the office. Harry Styles was one such Omega, sighing heavily as he kicked at a small stone on his walk home.

✧ What the Water Gave Me | larryatendoftheday | fantasy - mermaids - long distance relationship - 29k When a mermaid crawls out of the sea to listen to Harry sing, it changes everything.

✧ it’s hard for me to go home | localopa | angst - breakup - getting back together - 5k don’t call me baby again

✧ The Prince and the Thief | jaerie | Fairy Tale - a/b/o - strangers to lovers - violence - kidnapping - threats of rape/non-con - 19k Harry is an omega prince locked in a tower and Louis is the thief sent to kidnap him. Nothing turns out as planned.

✧ Up On The Shore | wordsnnotes | Eroda AU - magic - epistolary - friends to lovers - childhood friends - emotional/psychological abuse - angst - long-distance relationship - domestic violence - 34k Magic has been outlawed on Eroda ever since President Cowell came into power, and all the magic people had to go live on the island of Stonell. Things are not looking good for Harry when he finds out he's a magician and his abilities seem more and more out of control. Thankfully, his best friend Niall's mother has the idea to put him in touch with Louis, a magician boy living on Stonell. They begin a secret correspondence and drama ensues. Or: Louis hides his feelings under sarcasm, Harry is too sweet for his own sake, everyone is a rebel, the mums are amazing, Harry's dad is a jerk, and I'm struggling to make it understandable without using normal narration.

✧ this town's just an ocean now | louistomlinsons | exes to lovers - friends to lovers - summer romance - miscommunication - childhood friends - light angst - fluff - 31k “I have really great friends. Do you remember Louis? You guys were always hanging out when you were growing up.” Harry remembers Louis. Harry remembers Louis. Suddenly, his throat feels way too dry, despite the ice cream he keeps licking at. He chokes a little on a chocolate chip before saying, “I, uh. I remember Louis.” Her face brightens. “We have dinner every Sunday. He owns the house now. His parents moved further north, and he wanted to stay here, so they just gave it over. Now if you want to worry about someone being lonely, that’s who I worry about.” inspired by watermelon sugar, featuring picnics on the beach and boys being dumb

✧ I Am the Blinking Light | dearmrsawyer | ghosts - shipwreck - 19k There is a legend of a lighthouse far out to sea. It can’t be found on any map, and those who do find it never return. They say a ghost haunts the lighthouse, and you can hear it calling out in loneliness on the ocean waves.

#28th appreciation #fic rec #my fic rec #monthly reads #completed fics #larry fics

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blackvelvetwriteson · 4 years

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𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒: 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄

( ~ Kirishima Eijirou x Female Reader Insert ~ )

GENRE: Smut and Fluffy Fluff!

FANDOM: Boku No Hero Academia (My Hero Academia)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: SMUT! That’s it. It’s just a lot of love making today with some pretty aftercare.

SUMMARY: It’d been awhile since you and Eijiro had gotten together and he’d started his hero work while you decided to stay in school and focus more on studies. He got to train under his idol and, of course, you were proud of him. He worked damn hard to get where he’s at now. He continued training harder and harder everyday, but that also meant that he was even more drained than usual. You'd always talk on the phone after school and he'd entertain you with his stories of what he did on the job and you'd help him be caught up schoolwise. It was a give-give situation. It'd been at least two months at this point and you were a little agitated; both sexually and not. You missed feeling his strong arms around you, his soft lips sending you to bed every night and waking you up every morning. You missed seeing how his big, muscular, veiny hand enveloped yours, his gentle smile making your days brighter and eventually, at this point you'd had enough of not being together.

WORD COUNT: 2723

(Headers are mine, but the art inside of them are not! Please don’t steal or repost without credit!)

Two months had passed up to this point and you still hadn't heard from your boyfriend. You were scrolling through your Instagram just staring at all of the pictures that you shared, your eyes tearing up a little as your mind wandered absolutely craving his touch. Was he in the hospital? Was he hurt? What was going on with him?

Your nightmares were a bit more prominent now having spent a significant bit of time away from your lover, though they subsided, to some degree, when you got with Eijiro. Suddenly all of this time apart was getting to you and you ran out of medicine to help with it, your anxiety and depression levels absolutely through the roof. It got so bad that even your friends had noticed; you weren't as chipper in class, you never ate as much, your gaze was either painted out the window or at the ground at any given time, and you absolutely refused to go anywhere. Mina and Ochako wanted to hang out after class to study and hang out before the big exam and instead you locked yourself in your room and studied lazily yourself. Needless to say, you got a D- and that was the worst you'd EVER done in a class. Not that you didn't know the material, just that you didn't have the energy or focus to sit through the test. Aizawa had noticed and pulled you aside and you explained lazily your mental health situation and he said that once your mental health gets better that he'll let you retake the quiz. Then he gave you a Nature Valley bar because you didn't look like you'd been eating.

You paced your room and you sighed softly thinking of what it'd take to get his attention. Knowing him, this week he was probably on office duty instead of patrolling the streets. You decided, with your dirty mind, to put on some lingerie to get his attention and hopefully it'd warrant a text back.

You slip on some black lacy lingerie, complete with a corset-style top that was laced up in the back and a built in bra, though it was just a bit too small for you even though everything else fit just fine, you just had some big boobs. You decided to deal with it.

It also had a black thong instead of panties and a small harness-looking belt that attached to lace garter straps secured around your thighs.

You walk in front of a mirror you had in your room and you sighed softly, aware that he loved your natural face, almost void of blemishes. You had a few textured marks on your forehead but otherwise you were good. Your lips lightly glazed over with some chapstick you'd put on beforehand, your cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink.

You bring your slender fingers up to your lips and you run your middle finger over your bottom lip, whimpering softly. You picked your phone up and took a couple of pictures, one with that vibrant smile he loved so much, your bright white teeth catching the light, your eyes squinting curtly as your bangs framed your face.

You took a more seductive picture, your fingers looped just barely under the thong strap, pulling up and showing off the outline of your, now obviously swollen pussy. You whimper at the friction and you bit your lip, snapping a few not as innocent photos.

You then took a naughty little video clip of your hand ducking in between your legs, your fingers pressing at your clit as you moan out softly, completely unaware of just how wet and aroused you truly were until you shifted your weight some and heard yourself stirring up a little.

You send a nice little text to him first.

"Hey baby. Are you busy?"

Almost instantly, you got a response back.

"Yeah, I'm busy... I'm sorry, Pebble, I'll try and text more often. I've just been so backed up at this internship. I'm on office duty today so I might have some time to call later if you want."

Just as you expected; office time. You smirked a bit, instantly sending the cute picture and then the more provocative ones. You laid down on the bed awaiting his response.

"You know that smile of yours gets me every single time," he responded.

Your hand travelled down your body, wishing it was Kirishima's, his veins exposed on his arms as his fingers conformed to your curves, your muscles, every crevice and dip in your body. You moaned out softly, "Eijiro," in a soft, breathy tone. Your fingers were teasing your clit over the thin fabric of the thong and you arched your back a little. You'd accidentally sent him the video of you touching yourself in the bathroom and you dropped your phone, instantly, one of your fingers delving inside of you.

You arched your back more, gripping the sheets and sliding your finger into your tight pussy, slowly sliding another finger in. Your core ached for release you'd been holding off on, but tonight you just couldn't fight it anymore.

Your phone buzzed next to you, the name on your phone the only one you wanted to see. You tried to control your breathing and you bit your lip.

"H-Hullo," you hummed out, risking it and continuing to curl your fingers inside of yourself. You were a bit caught as you heard rhythmic thumping and your breathless boyfriend on the other side.

"B-Baby," he said in a drawn out-intoxicating sounded voice, moaning and whimpering into the phone quietly, his breathing deep and loud.

"Aww. Is someone a bit needy," you try to keep yourself collected as you heard him helplessly jerking himself off underneath his office desk.

"I-I've missed you so much... T-This has taken a toll o-on m-me too," he whimpered helplessly into the phone, his hips bucking up up into his hand, pumping his hand up and down his veiny shaft. His perfect, plush pink tip was oozing precum and he bit his lip, his jagged breathing coming through the phone turning you on even more.

"Mmm fuck, Eijiro," you whimpered out quietly as you hear his rhythmic thrusts and thumps speeding up and you can tell by how he's choking back his orgasm that he's close. You thrust your fingers inside of you, shakily breathing and moaning as your thighs trembled.

"I can tell you're close, Princess," he moaned out quietly. "I'm close too... C-Cmon. I know you can do it. I know you can make me cum," he whimpered out quietly.

His voice was so sexy to you. especially how he tried to dominate you though you guys weren't touching each other and when he was feeling a little submissive, his hoarse voice strained as he tried to stay discreet. You heard his moans, his inebriates moans filling your ear as sweet music. He moaned your name and his strained, tipsy tone shooting shivers right up your spine as he let out a quiet, intense moan.

You bit your lip and turned your camera on quickly flipping it to your slick dripping out of your pussy. You were greeted by Eijiro's sweet whimpers and whines as he watched you slide your fingers in and out in a quick, sticky rhythm.

"P-Please, please, please, please," he moaned as he showed his cock that you were so hungry for, the blush pink tip coated in precum and the shaft of his cock covered in those beautiful puckered veins that you loved so much. "Make me cum," he whimpered out. "Make me fucking c-cum princess, please! I n-need it! I need you so goddamn bad!"

You couldn't hold it even if you wanted to, arching your back, dropping your phone, gripping your sheets and soaking your hand in your sweet, sticky cum. "Eijiro!" You yelled out as you shuddered, overstimulating yourself, gasping for air and convulsing under your own touch. You were left breathless as you pushed yourself for him just wishing that he were there so you could feel him. "D-Daddy," you kept muttering in between gasps and moans, your whimpers which were said dominant before melting into a pathetic puddle of small yips, bucking hips, and "please"-es.

He absolutely reveled in your orgasm, groaning and whimpering quietly, clearly getting close himself. He continued to whimper and whine, slapping a hand over his mouth so that he wouldn't alert his temporary employer. His face was painted all shades of red, a bit of sweat sheening his body, illuminating his exposed skin in all of the right ways. He continued his rhythmic pumping, eventually getting faster and faster, jerking around in his seat. It was then you realized how needy he actually was, not just a ruse to get you to get him to smooth one out while he was on the job and you, alone.

He hadn't even pulled his pants down to his knees and they just rested on his thighs. His face was contorted in need, his breathing hitching and shaky which, to be frank, never happened unless a situation arose in which you'd both been parted from each other. He never trembled unless you overstimulated him but he was a convulsing mess and he haven't even came yet.

"C-Cum," you managed to choke out, hoping to help him chase his release. "P-Please cum for me daddy!~ I de-deserve it!~" Your pleasure replaced by sensitivity, your insides dripping and convulsing like crazy around your fingers as you listened to him moaning and groaning on the other side of the phone.

You'd barely even made it through your command and he'd pumped himself faster, faster, faster, deep, long strokes before he grabbed some tissues from off of the desk and he slapped his hand over his mouth, at first no noise was coming out. You stopped your... Festivities and just stared at the phone with glistening eyes as he hiked his legs up some, his hot, sticky seed shooting into the tissues that he placed over his tip, his lips parted barely, soft huffs of breath leaving him occasionally as he became a trembling mess in his seat while there was shuffling at the door. He no longer cared, just in absolute bliss as he got to please himself- finally- at the hands of his baby girl. He let out soft "ooh"s and "ah"s as he came down from his high, picking up the phone to see your glistening eyes and soft pink lips.

"T-That was a-all..." You trailed off, the bass in your voice quieting as you stared at the beautiful man who you called your own

"Yes, baby girl," he responded in his husky tone as he stared into your eyes, his french vermillion colored eyes glistening as he brushed his bangs out of his face. You noticed that his hair wasn't spiked, but rather smoothed down on his head, his bangs held back by a butterfly clip. He slid it back in his pants and he threw the sticky tissue away at the trashcan that lied under his desk.

"All for you." He shuffled some of his papers on his desk realizing that he only had a small amount of paperwork to file, having done the majority of it on 3 cans of Monster and an endless amount of coffee. He couldn't find it in himself to sleep knowing that you weren't able to without him but he also couldn't call you prior.

"When can I see you again?" You asked in an innocent, breathy tone.

He picked up his schedule and then checked the time, his beautiful cherry red eyes falling back over how sad you looked, the moment of bliss covering up just how needy and depressed you really were.

"God I really wish I could... You don't even know," he whispered quietly into the phone as he wiped some sweat off of his forehead and he pinched the bridge of his nose. You could tell he was stressed but you couldn't help your expression dropping.

"I think I have an off-day here soon... Within the month, I'm sure of it." He said softly as he looked at your downed expression.

"O-Oh," you said, your eyes glistening with tears that dared to fall. "Y-Yeah no, that's fine," you force a smile into your phone and you shake your head.

"You know you're my beautiful baby right?" He asked softly staring into your eyes, getting a mental picture of your features. "You know you're so brave and strong, right? You know that I miss you and I don't want anybody else but you, don't you," he cooed out quietly to you.

You nodded allowing his words to envelop you. "I know, Kiri," you whisper quietly as you curl up in a blanket.

"Have you eaten...?" His eyes looked a little worried as he already knew the answer and he sat up in his seat finally getting back to his work, his phone propped up against a book that was on his desk. He was surprisingly organized, pulling his bangs back and reclipping his hair; he looked so professional and you loved it, you just wished that you could be with him while he was being professional.

"No," you replied quietly, laying down with your back to the phone. His eyes peered at you and he sighed softly.

"How long has it been?" He continued to try and coax answers out of you but you were crashing and dissociating. "Look at me, baby girl," he whispered quietly, placing his pencil down and picking his phone up again.

You groan softly, the tears finally falling as you cover your eyes with your forearm. "No," you spat quietly. "You're not gonna like what you see then l-leave me o-or something a-and-"

"Baby," he said in his soft stern voice. You immediately shut up and turned to look at him through your phone. "Now that I have your attention. What was it that you told me awhile ago? 'Everybody cries. Even manly men,'" you loved it when he quoted you. "You getting emotional isn't gonna make me love you any less," he said quietly as he gave you a nurturing smile. You cuddled a pillow and rested your head on it much like you'd do to Kiri, resting your head on his chest. You sniff quietly and just watch him.

"Soon, my love," he whispered quietly as he hummed to you, lulling you to sleep that'd been eluding you for at least a month and a half. He smiled as he watched you peacefully, humming quietly as he continued to run his pencil over some paper, making work in his paperwork. He looked over your sleepy features, your lips that were slightly parted as you let out soft puffs of air, your rosy cheeks, your illuminating skin, your bangs that framed your face so perfectly, and finally your eyes that never rested even in sleep; he could tell you were having a nightmare. He wished so badly that he were there to kiss your forehead and tell you that everything would be okay. He craved your touch just as much as you craved him.

"In one of my late days, I'll be there right beside you, cuddling you and letting you know it’ll all be okay," he whispered softly as he continued to muse and do his work.

#mha kirishima #kirishima #kirishima smut #kirishima x you #kirishima x reader #kirishima x y/n #bnha #bnha fanfiction #bnha kirishima #bnha lemon #bnha x reader #mha x y/n #mha x you #smut into fluff

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yikesharringrove · 4 years

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Just Play Along

2/2 giveaway fics for my 1k follower celebration! This one is for @sciscoekid who requested fake dating!

Read on Ao3

Steve was staring at the paper.

It was nice paper, that thick cardstock reserved for events like this one.

Theodore and Karen Wheeler and proud to announce the marriage of their daughter, Nancy Elizabeth Wheeler, to Jonathan Matthew Byers.

She’s getting married. And gave Steve a plus one he can’t fill to a destination wedding he can’t afford.

Awesome.

Billy pushed past where he was standing in the kitchen, Steve barely budging at all.

“You okay, Pretty Boy?” Steve and Billy had lived together for nearly six years now.

It had been an accident, how they wound up together. Billy used to live across the hall from him, but as fate would have it, he was being kicked out by his then-boyfriend, while Steve was kicking out his then-girlfriend.

Steve was red-faced, wine drunk, pissed off at his cheating girlfriend, had pointed right at Billy.

“You a fucking cheater?”

“Nah. Bit of a drinker, though.”

“Great. You’re moving in with me.”

So the room that had once been Steve’s girlfriend’s craft room, was turned into Billy’s bedroom.

And it’s stayed like that since.

Billy whipped the invite outta his hands.

“Who’s this?”

“My ex-girlfriend.” Billy raised one eyebrow at him. “From high school, not the cheater. Although, I mean, she didn’t cheat on me, but we never really broke up and she started dating this guy,” Steve pointed to the invite, Nancy and Jonathan staring lovingly at one another. “And now I’m gonna go to their wedding alone, because I’m a fucking loser and-”

“Okay, deep breath.” Steve stared him down, taking a comically short breath. Billy stared at him. He took a deeper one. “Look, I can go with you, if you want.”

“It’s up in some resort town in Maine, and I’m broke as all hell.”

“I can spot it.” Steve huffed. “C’mon, Pretty Boy. Let’s go, get wildly drunk, and have a good time. You haven’t taken more than two days off in like, a year and a half.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Fine.”

Steve had slept almost the entire flight.

He got nervous on airplanes, had taken a sleeping pill for the cross country flight. He had curled against Billy’s side, drooled on his shoulder for a few hours.

Billy watched him, the way he would snuffle, his nose twitching like a little rabbit. He smiled fondly at Steve, running one hand through his hair, trying to wake him up gently before touch down.

“Sugar, we’re here.” Steve blinked up at him, smiling sweetly and all Steve pretty.

Billy’s stomach fluttered.

The town was beautiful.

It was early fall, off season for a little resort town, and the main street was nearly dead.

Billy drove the rental car to the boutique hotel. Nancy had rented out a block of rooms for all the guests.

They pulled up, stretching as they got out of the car, Billy getting the bags from the back.

“Steve!” He smiled stiffly as Nancy threw herself down the stairs, wrapping him up in a tight hug. “It’s so good to see you.” She held him at arm's length. “Oh! And this must be your boyfriend. Billy, right?”

“Oh, he’s not-”

“Yep! Steve’s boyfriend. Nice to meet you.” He held out his hand to her, shaking it firmly, elbowing Steve.

Nancy led them into the hotel, chattering to Billy, asking them how long they’ve been together.

“Steve never tells me anything, anymore. Of course, he’s mentioned you, but he never said boyfriend, just, you know, Billy did the sweetest thing today.” Steve spoke with Nancy every few months on the phone.

“Well, it kinda happened accidentally. We had been living together for a while, but we both just wanted something more, you know? Just couldn’t resist each other.” Billy was laying it on thick.

They had reached their room, and Steve was gonna lose his shit.

There was only one bed.

Because Nancy had smugly updated them to a suite. A honeymoon suite.

She gave them each a hug before leaving them to get settled in.

“Why did you go with it? Tell her we’re together?” Billy shrugged.

“Drive her crazy. Seeing your ex happier with someone kinda sucks, even if you are getting married.”

“What, so you’re trying to make Nancy jealous?” Billy grinned at him.

“It’ll be fun. Just, play along.”

“Just play along.” Steve was mimicking snarkily. “It’ll be fun.”

He was in the huge bathroom in their huge suite. He was changing for dinner with the entire Hawkins crew, introducing them all to his fake boyfriend for the first time.

He yanked on a sweater, combing through his hair one last time before sighing into the mirror.

He’s been in love with Billy for years now.

Pretty much ever since he’s moved in. And it’s hard enough, pining from across the hall for your roommate, but now a roommate that you’re sharing a bed with, and telling everyone you’re together, Steve is fucking over it.

He let himself out of the bathroom, glowering at Billy.

He was shirtless, going through his suitcase on the luggage rack at the end of the big bed.

It’s not like Steve has never seen him topless, hell, Billy tends to walk around the apartment butt naked.

But now Steve is in this predicament, and the last thing he wants to see is Billy’s golden, gorgeous body.

Billy stood up, smiling at him.

“You ready?” Steve nodded as Billy tugged on a button down shirt, leaving the top few undone, showing off his tan chest, a few of his tattoos.

They were quiet in the elevator, and then, just as the doors were sliding open, Billy settled one arm around Steve’s waist, pulling him into his side.

He smelled great, like the deep cologne he only brought out for special occasions. He leaned to Steve’s ear, made him shiver as he rasped,

“Play along, Sugar.”

He pulled Steve to the restaurant across the street, smiling at the hostess and saying Byers-Wheeler wedding?

Everyone cheered when they saw Steve, and his heart panged a bit. He really needed to get back to Hawkins more often.

Hugs were passed around, and they all found their seats.

“Why didn’t you tell us you and Billy had started dating?” Steve smiled at Joyce sheepishly.

“It was such a natural transition for us, I guess. We just kinda, fell into one another.” Steve’s pretty sure he heard that in a movie or pulled it right from a shitty young adult novel.

“Well, you two are sweet.” She smiled at them.

And Billy swooped forward, kissing Steve right on the cheek. Steve’s face burned.

“Oh, come on! Give him a real kiss!” Steve glared at Dutin as the whole gang began jeering at them, wolf-whistling and causing a damn commotion.

Steve shot the rest of his wine, grabbed Billy’s cheeks, and planted a fat one on him.

They were quiet as they made their way back up to their room, Billy trudging a few feet behind Steve.

He was terrified he had overstepped his bounds by kissing Billy. He had been so quiet after that, so drawn into himself through the rest of dinner.

He sequestered himself back in the bathroom, changing into his pajamas.

When he returned, Billy was sitting back in the bed.

“Hey, I’m sorry about earlier. I just wanted them all to shut the hell up.” He fidgeted with the hem of his t-shirt. Billy watched him for a second, smiling up at him.

“Nah, Pretty Boy. It’s okay. Just not the way I woulda done it.” Steve swallowed thickly.

“What does that mean?” Billy stood up slowly.

He walked forward, made Steve feel small, made him feel like Billy took up all the space in the room.

He took Steve’s wrist, tugging him close to his body.

Steve’s breath hitched as Billy slid his arms around his waist.

When their lips touched it was nothing like in the restaurant.

They both moved slow, just a gentle press into one another.

Billy's hands were warm, searing his skin through his shirt. His lips were as soft as Steve had always thought they’d be, dreamed they’d be.

He pulled away, Steve’s eyes still closed.

“That’s how I woulda done it.” And he was gone, the bathroom door closing softly behind him.

Steve pretended to be asleep when he came out of the shower.

The bed dipped behind him. Billy always ran hot, ran like a fucking furnace.

He scooted closer to Steve in the small bed. The sheets were soft. Billy tugged on the blanket, and Steve was scooched back.

His eyes were wide in the dark, his back pressed against Billy’s side.

Billy breathed deeply. Steve’s sweatshirt had ridden up in the back, and their skin pressed together.

It felt like Steve was being burned, Billy’s skin so hot against his. He tried to get away, but the soft mattress gave too much, kept rolling them into one another.

“Relax, Baby.” Billy’s voice was gruff. He sounded half-asleep. “Can hear you thinkin’ from here.”

“Sorry. Goodnight.” And then Billy rolled a bit more, his front pressed into Steve’s side. One thick arm draped over Steve, and all the air was knocked right from his lungs.

“‘Night, Sweet Thing.”

Steve had avoided Billy at all costs the next day.

He had gotten up before the sun to go on a run, get breakfast from a little cafe down the street.

He only saw him back in the room, both their wedding suits hanging neatly on the bathroom door.

“Hey.” Billy’s smile was relaxed. Steve’s was less so. “You ready for this shindig?” Steve just nodded.

The ceremony was short and sweet. Nancy looked beautiful in her delicate lace dress. Their vows were lovely, and Steve definitely teared up.

He was able to avoid Billy more at the reception, staying on the dancefloor and not looking towards his seat next to Billy’s.

Until he turned around, turned around, and saw Billy pressed against a cater waiter, smirking down at him like he was gonna eat him.

Steve took a shaky breath.

And Billy looked up, bright blue eyes meeting his across the way.

And Steve ran.

The reception was outside, made it real easy for Steve to sprint down the road.

“Steve!” He kept running, put his head down, and went. “Steve, can you slow down?” Steve stopped abruptly, his chest heaving. He flopped onto a bench, tugging his jacket tighter around him. Billy slammed down next to him, panting hard. “Christ, Pretty Boy, you’re a fuck of a lot faster than I was expectin’.”

“Swam in high school. Got a lotta stamina.” Billy huffed a laugh.

“Any reason why you needed to do a quick 5K?” Steve bit his bottom lip.

“It’s dumb.”

“No, it’s not, Stevie. Never dumb when it means somethin’ to you.”

“I just, I uh, you were flirting with that waiter.” His heart was pounding in his chest. “Gonna blow our cover.”

“That’s not why you freaked.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Nope.”

“Yes!” Steve was starting to get frustrated, Billy didn’t know him like that.

“Nuh-uh.” Billy did know him like that. “Just tell me what’s buggin’ you, Baby.”

“It’s that! It’s the Baby and the Sugar and the sleeping all pressed together, and the that’s how I woulda kissed you and just fucking all of it, Billy!”

“I don’t, I don’t know if I understand.”

“Billy, I’m in love with you! Have been for fucking ever, and it was fine, but doing this, pretending like this, it fucking hurts Billy.” He turned away to swipe at his eyes.

“Baby-”

“Don’t.”

“Just hear me out-”

“Billy, it’s okay. I know you don’t feel the same and-”

“Who said?”

“Who said what?”

“That I don’t feel the same.” Steve’s heart stuttered in his chest.

“I just, you never said anything.”

“Neither did you.” Billy was staring intensely at him in the fading light.

And Steve didn’t think. Didn’t want to think.

He swung one leg over Billy’s lap, settled his weight, and fucking kissed him.

It was nothing like either kiss. It was real, and sweet, and Steve can’t remember the last time he’s been kissed like this, like Billy was simultaneously stealing the breath right out of his lungs, and breathing new life into his body.

They both pulled away, breathing hard, staring at one another.

“Fuck,” Steve breathed.

“My thoughts exactly.”

#yikes writes #steve harrington #billy hargrove #steve harrington x billy hargrove #billy hargrove x steve harrington #harringrove #harringrove fic #harringrove ficlet #harringrove drabble

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theficplug · 4 years

Text

l Next Lifetime l Erik Killmonger l

previous chapters: l part 1 l

erik kilmonger x reader

warnings: none, but the usual 18+ for the eventual smut and a possible tw for grief but i promise it gets better and its a romcomsynopsis: reader grieves Erik until she doesn’t (i’m trying not give too much away). I really want to make it a series that i actually keep up with (sorry Girls Trip readers) because I have up to part 4 written. alright thats all i hope yall vibe with it.

l part 2 l

“Yeah I do, I think that like if we want. We can come back as someone else or like maybe when we love someone really strongly and we have like soul ties we can come back to them in another life. But that’s just me. We could just be hitting the cha cha slide next to Father J.C.” Iridia explains and Tika shakes her head while laughing at her.

“Personally, I don’t think so. I believe once our life Earthside is done we return to the cosmos to be a part of the stars that light up the night sky on our loved ones darkest nights. But why are we talking about this on your birthday? We are very much alive with much to celebrate miss thang. I’m ready to go!” Tika says to you as she grabs the car keys.

“So I met someone while I was at the store and he invited all of us to a party at the Roller Rink but I gotta let you know it’s like crazy how eerily similar he looks to Erik.” you say to them and they both give each other a look before looking back at you.

“OH! Don’t give me that look! I know y’all probably think I’m losing it, but you know what they say everybody got a doppelganger somewhere. Anyways, I know it’s not exactly on our itinerary but I wanna go if y’all are down?” you ask them and they give a worried look before nodding and agreeing.

“Hell yeah we’re in. I haven’t been to a skating rink since like 10th, maybe 11th grade? This should be fun to see if I got it or if I’m gonna buss my ass.” Tika says laughing.

The rest of the day was pretty easy breezy but you could not get over seeing him. Who’s possibly not him? In front of you. Happy and laughing and present.

You tried to shake off the thoughts and feelings during brunch with your girls and for the rest of the day enjoying the street festival and winning a giant stuffed giraffe. Between the 3 of you, you won enough stuffed animals to fill the entire backseat of your car and eventually left the festival with a caricature drawing of the 3 of you.

Before you knew it, it was 6:40 and you and your girls were back at the beach house getting ready for the party.

You searched around your suitcase for the outfits that Iridia had packed for you and settled on.

You gave yourself a once over in the mirror and fluffed your fro a little before re-applying your lip gloss.

“GIRL, YOU LOOK SO GOOD. What is going on? You tryna get chose?” Tika asks standing in the doorway as she smiles at you with her ipod in one hand and a freeze-able daiquiri pouch in the other.

You laugh as Tika glides around the room shaking her hips to the beat and doing a little roll as she saunters over to you to help you clasp your shirt in the back.

It’s safe to say that you haven’t been exactly up to your fashionably self for the past few months but Iri giving you options with the different pieces of clothing that she bought you had you feeling like yourself again.

“Damn, I’m good.” Iri says while giving you a twirl and takes selfies with you and Tika.

You purse your lips and give your best smize towards her phone as she snaps a photo of you and for a moment things feel like they used to.

“Just wanted to feel cute for once. I love this top and girl it got my titties SIT-TING.” you reply giggling and childishly nudging your girls before asking if they’re ready to go.

You put the address into the gps and you were off on your way.You tried turning up the radio to drown out how loud your thoughts were going and in a million different directions.

About 20 minutes later. You look out the window once arriving at the skating rink to see cars already filling the entire parking lot and you could see people laughing while holding onto each other as they skated their way inside.

The music is already blaring and you could definitely tell that “Daka”’s friend is a party planner. The venue had some sort of projector or something set up so that the entire room seemed like it changed “worlds” with each song. There were multiple food stations, and a live DJ playing everything from 90s R&B to New Orleans bounce music and everything in between.

You and your girls quickly grabbed a pair of skates and looked around for N’Jadaka and sure enough within a few minutes he was grooving his way over to you this time dressed in a slightly opened printed shirt and light washed jeans.

He skated around you with a big ass smile on his face. His golds were gleaming under the lights as it bounced off of the diamonds engrained in it. “YOU MADE IT! How y’all doing?” he asks your girls and they stand there gasping with their mouths wide open.

“I mean he could be his goddamn identical twin. You were not lying! The only thing he’s missing are the scars and his dreads. God damn.” Tika was the first to speak before Iri introduced herself.

“Hey, Happy Birthday, I’m Iri. This is Tika’s rude self and you already met our boo.” Iri says pulling him in for a quick hug.

“ I’m sorry, excuse us, you just look exactly like somebody we knew. Happy Birthday! It was his birthday too. It’s wild how people really do be having doppelgangers. Alright, so I’m gonna go try not to break my damn leg. Knowing I gotta go to work on Monday. Come on.” Tika says taking Iri by the hand and making her way onto the rink with her to give you and him some time alone.

You shift your weight trying to keep yourself steady as you sway to music , knowing that he’s eyeing you up and down.

“Man must’ve been a hell of a person. I’m glad you came though. I didn’t think Orleans was gonna do all of this.” he says laughing and you can’t control the butterflies feelings like they were fluttering around your stomach. That’s his laugh.

“He was. To me at least, he was. Of course, I mean I haven’t been to a roller rink in forever and I really needed some time to just know what it’s like to be carefree again.” you admit and he nods along listening to your words.

He decided to save his comment on “he was” for later. Hoping that there would be a later for the two of you and opted for taking your hand in his and leading you onto the rink .

“Well, in that case. Show me what you got and forget about everything else for a minute.” he offers and you accept his offer and shakily make your way onto the rink like bambi trying to walk for the first time.

“Okay, so I’ll admit. I don’t actually know how to skate. I don’t why I thought this was a good idea.” you manage to stand for all of 10 seconds before tripping over onto him and he turns towards the DJ talking into the mic and signals for him to slow the music down.

“I got you.” he says and “Always Be My Baby” starts to play softly in the background as the “world” changes to a starry night.

You look up at him for a moment and nod before leaning into him. As you rest your head on his shoulder he begins to skate you left to right gently swaying you to the beat of the song as his hand rests respectfully on the small of your back almost instinctively. It took everything in you not to start tearing up again.

This was your song . He always promised that you’d be a part of him no matter what happens in life. You were always going to be his baby.

All the couples were paired off and you looked around at Iri holding onto Tika and smiled knowing that they’ve never acknowledged their feelings for each other but it was clear as day to anyone else.

He swayed you and held you against him while his thumb stroked your back gently and you closed your eyes trying to soak up your time with him.

You don’t know how it happened or if this was one long drawn out delusion or what exactly was going on in the moment, but all you knew was that you were able to feel the warmth of your E in your arms again and his scent evading all of your senses.

In this moment he was smiling and content and at peace, not being shipped back to you with claw marks in his chest and bruises all over him. He was here with even slow breaths and enjoying himself.

You knew that he felt it too because as the song ended you opened your eyes to find him looking down at you with this look of confusion and adulation on his face.

You run your fingers over his cheek and clear your throat and recoil your hand back by your side.

“I think your friends are calling for you.” you say to him playfully as the men and one woman around your age skate over to him and around the two of you, asking you a bunch of questions at once.

E- N’Jadaka let’s go of you to turn to them and introduce them to you .

“This is Orleans big head ass, Khalil , Pen, Lina, and Big Mike.” he says and they say hey and ask you if you are from around the area and you talk back and forth.

The conversation between you and his little group was so easygoing. It didn’t feel forced or awkward as he stood beaming from you to them.

“I've been there once or twice. I really liked the Hottentot Saartjie/ Sarah Baartman piece about the dehumanization and caricaturization of black women, especially darker skin women, then and now. It was both interesting and heartbreaking. It’s the reason why I do what I do now. I create safe spaces for black girls and women of all ages. It’s my greatest accomplishment and something I’m most proud of.” you answer Mike’s question about the new black art exhibit downtown.

Mike looks at you and shakes his head in wonder and amusement.

“Daka, with all due respect bruh. I gotta ask her to marry me. Or you need to let me know what aisle that was you met her because I’mma swing by your parents' store tonight. I think we might be out of bread or something.” Big Mike says before complimenting you on your outfit and Lina joined in by asking if you’d like to check out a new record store with her on Tuesday.

Next thing you knew your girls skated next to you to see what was going on. Tika introduced herself to the group and Iridia followed through.

“Hey I heard something about a record store because I could use some new ones. I think our neighbors are tired of me playing Otis Redding every night for the last few weeks. Keep asking me if I had a breakup every time I see her. Bless her nosey heart , Mrs. Pepper.” Iridia says talking animatedly and as gesticulatively as she always does and his small group of friends as everyone does seems completely enamored by her.

“Of course, yeah, why don’t you come too? And Mrs. Pepper just doesn't know good music but I may be biased because Cigarettes and Coffee is my favourite song. Hold that thought. My mouth is dry as hell from all that skating around, be right back-” Lina says before skating away for refreshments and the rest of the group talks amongst each other.

Other friends of N’Jadaka come up at random times to hug him, get photos, or say happy birthday.

“You want some?” Lina asks Erik as she returns to the group with a cupcake in her hand as she peeled the wrapper off and offered Erik a piece of the chocolate dessert. She reached out her hand towards his mouth and you looked from her to him and then at the cupcake which looked like it had walnuts in it. You push the piece away from his mouth and she looks at you puzzled.

“What’s up with you?” he asks looking confused

“Chocolate walnut cupcake.” you say simply not realizing that you were supposed to have just met him this morning .

“I- I mean just a lucky guess you know most people have nut allergies and shit.” you try to cover your tracks and he let out a sigh before laughing and nodding.

“You right too. Damn I was gon be out here looking like Will Smith when he ate that shellfish in Hitch for the rest of the function. I’m allergic to nuts. Good looking out ma.” he says and you nod at him before telling him to go skate with his friends you’d meet up later.

As you part ways your friends have about 3000 questions each. Iri believing that that definitely has to be Erik and Tika believing that you both had lost your natural born ass minds.

You all settle on how wild it is that he looked like Erik and left it there. You enjoyed the rest of your night swag surfing with a room full of new friends and your old forever friends and just fully enjoying your birthday.

“WE LIKE TO PAARTTAAYYY. AYYYYEEE AYYYYYEEE.” you sung out loud at the top of your lungs with everyone else and Beyonce.

Somehow you end up twerking on Lina and having a good laugh as the drinks flow through your system.

You glance over at N’Jadaka being circled by some of his guests and he breaks the circle to grab your hand and lead you to the middle of it with him.

“MY BIRTHDAY TWIN!” he shouts over the music to his guests and you shake your head telling him that he doesn’t really have to share his spotlight with you.

“Ain’t no problem.” he responds and you watch as everybody starts to skate a circle around you and Erik and y’all both laugh and pose for pictures while people sing Happy Birthday the Stevie Wonder version.

His friends and yours all took turns to skate up to pin money on you both.

You cheer and clap along to the music as you sing Happy Birthday to him and he sings it back to you.

Before you know it you're both smiling at each other and getting swept up into a soft gentle kiss that feels like electricity is pulsing between the two of you.

As you close your eyes you can get a glimpse of kissing him before he left for Wakanda. The way he pressed his forehead against yours , the way your hands rested against his beating heart, and the way that his soft plumps felt against yours.

You knew that he felt it too because when you broke the kiss with a tug of his bottom lip he was staring down at you once again with a puzzled expression.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped. I just-” you explain before exiting the circle and making your way out of the skating rink.

You quickly take off the shows and put your regular shoes back on as you stand outside for a moment to get some fresh air and gather yourself.

"Why is this happening? How is this happening? People don't just get to come back. This is insane. This is insane."

It didn’t take long at all before Erik was smoothly grooving his way out of the door not once spilling his drink.

“You know ma, I’mma lot of things. But I know for sure stupid ain’t one of them.” he says swaying his shoulders to the music before he stops and stands in front of you.

“You know something, don’t you? How do we really know each other?” he asks slowly

“I don’t. We met in Aloha Oakland for the first time. I feel so connected to you and believe that we have chemistry because you remind me of my ex. He passed away nearly a year ago and I didnt wanna tell you that right off the bat because the shit’s weird. “Hey, sorry I passed out , you cute but you remind me of my dead ex. So yeah, have a good day”.” you explain and he nods deciding once again to not press the issue.

"I'm sorry for your loss. Grief is never an easy thing to go through. I feel I experienced so much of that so early I didn't know anything else besides death. I was told that my birth parents were both murdered. But my parents taught me through all that rot and decay of the heart something beautiful can still grow. They taught me how to live. That there is more to life is more than just surviving day to day out of spite and anger." He speaks slowly like he's really pondering the words that he wants to say before continuing.

"It's kinda my fault. I feel like I was a lil too forward with all of this. My friends and the way that they party can be overwhelming. I'd like to make it up to you if you up for it. Just me and you. Maybe like a coffee or something quieter than this. I want to get to know you. Even though I know it's gonna sound corny as hell, I can't help feeling like I already do. You passing out by them discount cakes wasn't an accident at all, I think it was fate." he says and you look up at him before nodding.

“I think so too.”

#erik killmonger #erik killmonger smut #black panther imagine #black panther fic #Erik killmonger x Reader

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bauslut · 4 years

Text

as you are | vi.

pairing: aaron hotchner x oc

word count: 5.810k

warnings: mentions of murder, mentions of sexual assault, nudity, oral (receiving), filthy talk, use of pet names, sir kink, slight dom/sub, age gap, cursing, angst, lots and lots of angst, mentions of infant death, allusions to sex, cock warming, crying, marking, nsfw

a/n: this is the sixth chapter of my hotch fic! first off, i want to thank @sapphicstars for being my go-to for all my hotch rambles, for being my best friend, & for beta reading the past few chapters! thank you for being such a dear friend, i love you <3 let me know if you would like to be added or removed from the taglist! i hope you guys enjoy, as i’m super proud of this! :’)

| iv. | v.|

a drizzle drummed against the window, the sheer cream curtains drawn, rays of light from the lamp casting a warm golden glow all around, illuminating nearly everything. the only sound was the patter of the drops as they collided with the windowpane, and the occasional shuffle of papers, the heating unit only nothing but white noise, drowned out by the rain.

rowan rivers sat on the edge of the bed, fiddling with a loose thread on the patterned comforter, “so, do you want to shower first or would you like me to go?”

“you should go,” the rustle of paper followed his sentence, “you’re the one who’s wearing damp clothes. honestly, i’m not sure why you haven’t showered yet and changed into dry clothes.”

“and what are we going to do about the bed?”

“i’ll just sleep on the floor,” a weary sigh reverberated off the thin walls, “nothing that i haven’t done before.”

“aaron,” rowan rolled her eyes, slipping off the mattress, “do you realize that us sleeping in the same bed is nothing out of the ordinary?”

the unit chief was adjacent to the agent, his knees bent, acting as a prop for the file of the unsub. a notebook lied directly next to his thigh, open, a few notes scribbled into the margins. his coat was hung in the closet, suit jacket slung across a faux leather chair, nothing but his dress shirt and tie covering his top half, the tie loosened so that it wasn’t so tight around his neck.

aaron’s lips pursed, brow arching, “you don’t recall a single memory from that night, yet that’s the only thing you remember?”

“there’s a lot that’s coming back to me,” rowan shrugged, padding over to her bag, “well since you’re not protesting, i’m about to go use all of the hot water.”

“go ahead,” a chuckle flowed from his lips, light and airy, “i don’t mind a cold shower sometimes.”

“you’re ridiculous,” rowan snorted, “although i’m not shocked that you like cold showers.”

“i’m nowhere near as ridiculous as david rossi,” aaron brought a bottle of water to his mouth, taking a slip, “you realize this was intentional, right?”

“i wasn’t born yesterday,” her voice crescendoed as she entered the bathroom, rising again as she spoke, “if you need me, i’ll be in here.”

aaron mumbled an incoherent strand of words under his breath, cursing david rossi. not only did he have a case to investigate, he also had six members of his team badgering him about a coworker.

sure, the taunting on the jet was enough to handle. he could fire back, shooting down their teasing remarks with ease, able to maintain his cool, calm, composure. he was in control of the situation, shutting them up in a matter of minutes. nothing that he hadn’t encountered before.

however, this was a stark contrast.

aaron was in shambles, his skin flushed, neck painted with pink splotches as he gnawed on his lower lip. her mere presence was enough to have him crumpling to his knees, completely and utterly allured by her beauty. gravitating towards her voice whenever those plush lips parted, hanging onto every word. every interaction leaving one singular question ringing through his mind, clouding his thoughts.

how much longer was he going to able to keep it together?

“all right,” her voice pulled him out of his thoughts, snapping back to reality, “your turn.”

a fluffy white robe was cinched around her waist, the fabric covering nearly everything but a patch of skin between her breasts, a few marks poking out in the light. they were faded some, yet still prominent.

licking his lips, aaron clambered out of the bed, mustering every fiber in his being to break his gaze away, careful not to stare for too long.

“that was quick.”

“i didn’t want to waste the warm water,” she responded, ringing a towel through her hair, “i’ll just change in here while you shower.”

“you have no problem stripping when you’re inebriated but the second you’re sober you have second thoughts?” aaron let out a laugh, lips stretching into a broader grin as he noticed the rosy hue spread through her cheeks, “i’m just teasing.”

“i hate you,” rowan muttered, lips curving into a pout.

“i know for a fact that you don’t.”

“i’ll be in bed when you return,” her eyes crinkled shut as her hand deflected a yawn.

“and when i get out, i’ll be careful not to make any noise. every minute of sleep is precious. we have an unsub to track down when morning comes.”

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

“what time is it?” her voice was barely a whisper, her back facing him.

aaron rolled over, squinting in the low light. the numbers glared back, a sigh exiting his lips, “it’s about two thirty-eight, ro.”

“from the sound of it, you can’t sleep either.”

“this bed is pretty uncomfortable,” aaron pulled the comforter tighter to his body, nuzzling into the pillow.

“so are these pillows,” she grumbled, her tone hot with scorn, “why couldn’t we have booked some hotel in the town over?”

“the nearest town is forty minutes away.”

“so why can’t you sleep?” the ruffle of sheets crept into his left ear, “something on your mind?”

“there’s a lot on my mind ro.”

“there you go again, calling me ‘ro’,” she exhaled, “you need to pick a side, aaron.”

“pick a side?” shifting his body, aaron faced rowan, his brow furrowed, “what are you talking about, rowan?”

“you need to pick a side,” she repeated, her depths nearly gleaming silver, “you can’t just keep leading me on but then pushing me away. it’s so fucking confusing because i like being around you, aaron, i really do. you make me happy and every time that i’m not with you, there’s this part of me that misses you.”

“rowan--” his throat tightened, “it’s just that--”

“oh what?” she challenged, “what is it that’s holding you back? right now, you’re laying close enough to reach out, close enough to touch me, but not too close because there is something in your mind telling you not to. is it the divorce? are you guys even officially separated? from the frequent phone calls you’ve been receiving lately, it seems as if it’s sorting out plans. sorting out plans for daycare, for spending the night. it’s sorting out plans for jack. the two of you don’t even live together and rossi told me that it’s been months since the papers were filed.”

“rowan.” her name was eerily quiet as it tumbled from his lips, yet she continued, her voice rising, inflected with notes of fury, tears threatening to spill over.

an index finger prodded his chest, digging in, “you may have a cold tone when talking to me, but the second that i walk into a room your eyes gravitate towards my presence. you are keen when i speak and always tell the others to quiet down when i have headaches. you always ask if i’m going to make it home okay. fuck, the other night you let me stay at your apartment. is that just normal behavior to you? what are you so fucking afraid of aaron hotchner? and yes, i know how much you fucking despise being profiled but--”

“for fuck’s sakes,” the words were a growl, gravelly and harsh, “come here.”

fingers crept onto her cheeks, palms fully enveloping the heated skin, pulling her closer, mouths only inches away from one another.

rowan’s heart skipped a beat as his eyes searched hers, the tip of his nose grazing against the inside of her cheek, “a-are you going to answer my question or not?”

“only if you want me to,” her lashes fluttered as lips brushed against hers, soft and plush.

“please do.”

the fingers glided into her hair, tugging at the roots as mouths collided with hers, a fiery kiss unraveling. aaron pulled her closer, desperate to have her as close as teeth gnashed against teeth, tongue delving into her mouth. a faint taste of cherries lingered, the taste sweet, only making him crave more. rowan’s hands flew to his chest, clutching the fabric of his tee as he sucked on her lower lip harshly, a whine rising in her throat.

the whimper escalated into a broken moan as his mouth drifted lower, trailing just below her jawline, “a-aaron, please.”

“what?” he paused, voice edged with lust, “you have to use your words, ro.”

a shiver ran down her spine, her body nearly collapsing into his, “we have all night, you don’t have to be hasty.”

“i don’t know how much longer i can hold back ro.”

“god aaron,” rowan panted as he nipped at her neck, “i bet they can hear us--”

“let ‘em,” satisfaction coursed through him as he marveled at the fresh mark, “i want to hear you.”

fingers laced into his silky hair as his mouth drifted, tugging at the roots, “fuck, aaron. just take it off.”

he paused, breaking away, heart thudding, blood roaring in his ears, “do you want me to?”

rowan nodded, her cheeks tainted crimson, “please.”

gently, his hands hooked the hem of the plush crewneck clinging to her frame, gesturing for her to sit up. carefully, he worked it up her arms, pulling it over her head, casting the article of clothing to the floor.

at the sight of her, he nearly came undone.

her breasts bounced as her back hit the mattress, a cotton thong hugging her hips. her lips were parted, curved into a shy smile, brunette hair sweeping against the pillow. a silver chain glittered, hanging loosely from her neck, a charm resting against her collarbone. swallowing thickly, his hands gravitated towards her sides, slowly trailing back and forth, savoring the softness of her skin against his. several, tiny scars littered her chest, spanning down to the plane of her stomach, the areas a more pale complexion than the rest.

“i’m sorry about the scars,” she sputtered, tripping over the words, “they’re really a mood killer and i’m so--”

“ro,” his tone was firm, yet his voice was so gentle, so quiet, “don’t you dare apologize. you’re beautiful.”

a hand cupped his cheek, her thumb caressing the cheekbone, “you’re the first man who’s ever said that to me and meant it.”

“i’ll say it over and over again. all day, every day. every single second that i’m around you because i fucking mean it, rowan. you’re beautiful.”

tears pooled in the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill over, “t-thank you.”

“no crying,” a chuckle tumbled from his lips, the pad of his thumb wiping away a tear, “i always hate seeing you cry.”

“i won’t cry anymore, promise. you should take this off,” her nails grazed the collar of his tee, “so we’re even.”

without any hesitations, he slipped out of his shirt, lowering his head so that he was at level with her chest, “can i?”

“can you what?”

“well,” his breath fanned against her skin, in close proximity, “you asked me a few nights ago if i wanted to suck on them. can i?”

“god, please.”

his mouth wrapped around her nipple, her back arching into him as his teeth tugged lightly, tongue flicking over the bud. rowan’s nails dug into his back, moans flooding the space, low and breathy, only fueling the lust burning within him. god, he needed more of her. he needed more of her so fucking bad. he needed all of her.

“a-aaron,” rowan whimpered as his tongue traveled lower, going down her stomach, “i-i need you to touch me. or do something. fuck, i’m so wet and i can fucking feel it. i need you.”

“yeah?” his tone oozed authority, “you need me? how bad? how badly do you need me to touch you?”

“i just fucking need you,” her head thudded against the pillow, jaw slack, “i need you bad, aaron hotchner.”

the sound of his name, his full name, dripping from her lips, nearly sent him over the edge of losing all inhibitions, drunk off lust.

aaron’s hands sprawled across her thighs, parting them in one swift motion, “if this gets to be too much, let me know. all right?”

“all right.”

settling flat on his stomach, his arms hooked around her thighs, his head level with her thong, “holy fuck. i can see how wet you are.”

“it’s all for you,” her voice faltered, squirming slightly as the tip of his nose brushed against her clit, “i’m so wet for you, sir.”

“sir?” aaron arched a brow, a smug smirk enveloping his features, “i like that, especially coming from your pretty little mouth. do you want me to put you in your place pretty girl? you want me to remind you who’s in charge? do you want me to make you feel good?”

rowan’s throat tightened, her clit practically throbbing through the cotton now, the fabric drenched with her juices, “yes sir. i need you to put me in my place.”

“that’s a good girl,” he hummed, fingers hooking the waistband, “let’s get these off you, hmmm?”

eagerly, rowan shimmied, aaron’s touch sending ripples of euphoria coursing through her body. it was almost as if every single part of her body was on fire, lit up from his words alone. the touch only intensified the scorching desire, consuming her whole.

his tongue darted out, licking a stripe from her hole to her clit, delving between her folds, a pleased hum rising in his throat as he swallowed.

“i always knew you’d taste this good, pretty girl.”

“god,” she writhed beneath him, instinctively bucking her hips, “please--”

the sentence dissolved into a groan as his mouth connected with her pussy, burying his tongue into it. rowan’s hands tangled into his hair, pulling, only goading him to keep going. to keep ravaging her with his mouth until she was begging to stop. his tongue glided upwards, swirling on her clit, lapping away, desperate to taste every inch. to explore every convex and concave until there was nothing left. nothing left to taste.

“a-aaron,” pulling away, a strand of saliva followed, glittering in the light.

“say my name, say it again pretty girl. and don’t fucking stutter.”

“but your mouth--” she protested, biting her tongue.

a growl rumbled, “i don’t care where my mouth was. say it again.”

hands squeezed her breasts, rolling her nipples between fingers. the pleasure was overwhelming, the waves racking rowan’s body as his lips wrapped around her clit, sucking and darting across it. heat radiated off her cheeks, a sheen of sweat glistening on her forehead.

“i-i’m going to cum,” a needy whine rang through the room, bouncing off the walls.

“you better cum,” he was pinching her nipples now, “you better fucking cum like the good girl i know you are.”

“i-i’m going to,” her thighs twitched, her breathing picking up, “oh my god aaron, i’m going to--”

“that’s a good girl,” aaron’s eyes drank in the sight of her, trembling underneath him, her climax seconds away from unraveling, “you cum like the good girl you are.”

her hips rolled, riding out her orgasm on his tongue, clutching fistfuls of his hair. giving her pussy one final lick, aaron pulled away, her juices coating his mouth, dripping onto his chin. his cock was twitching now, pre-cum dribbling along his length, constrained to the tightness of his boxers.

“fuck,” rowan cursed under her breath, her chest heaving, strands of hair plastered to her forehead, “aaron--”

“you hanging in there, ro?”

her response was a meek nod, a bead of sweat trickling down her temple, “yes.”

“i’m not finished with you yet princess,” aaron’s voice wavered as rowan propped herself up, reaching out, her hand flattening out on the print, fingers squeezing his shaft, “good god, p-please.”

“what?” tilting her head, rowan peered at him through thick lashes, batting them, “what is it, aaron?”

“i need you to fucking sit on it, that’s fucking what.”

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

“what time are we supposed to meet at the station again?”

“only a couple of hours now,” aaron fought back a yawn, pressing a light kiss to her shoulder blade, “it’s nearly five in the morning, ro.”

bodies were intertwined, a flurry of limbs. the haze of sex lingered, the scent of arousal thick in the air. yet, aaron hotchner felt nothing but pure bliss as he cradled her body in his arms, a warm, cozy feeling seeping into his chest as her bare skin pressed against his.

shifting ever so slightly, a low grunt rumbled in his throat as his tip plunged further in, his cock coated with a sticky mess of his and her cum, the juices practically leaking down his shaft, pooling onto the sheets.

“aaron, please.”

“please what?” satisfaction coursed through his veins as her voice dripped with a plea, “you gotta use your words with me, rowan. i can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me.”

“we’ll be up all night,” rowan whispered, “i-it feels so good.”

swallowing thickly, his hand traveled from her hip to the plane of her stomach, “god, i think i can feel it.”

“i don’t know if i can handle any more.”

“i know baby,” pecking her cheek, aaron pulled out, savoring the sensation of her walls wrapped around his cock, “let’s get you cleaned up, and then maybe we’ll be able to get a few minutes of shut-eye before a phone rings.”

baby.

rowan’s heart nearly soared at the pet name, the gentle notes inflected in his tone as he uttered it, the way it just sounded so right coming from him. god, was she so vulnerable in this state: enveloped in his tight embrace, nearly melting into his arms, not a single article of clothing adorning her frame.

in the moment, she was nothing but happy, cozy and content under the covers.

if only she could spend every night like this with him, basking in the intimacy. falling so much harder than she initially thought. sure, aaron hotchner was a handsome man. he was level-headed, carried himself with ease, and was so utterly good-looking. he was a family man, unafraid to express his abundant love for his son. he was compassionate, putting his needs of the team before his own. he was self-less, always thrusting himself into harm's way before any member of his team or civilian.

however, there was one aspect that rowan couldn’t understand. one particular trait that prevented her from giving herself to him completely.

why couldn’t aaron hotchner show any vulnerability? why was he a changed man behind closed doors?

“there,” his voice cut in the silence, “i changed the sheets. we should really rest, ro.”

padding over to the bed, rowan settled into the comforter, allowing space for aaron. within seconds, he was pulling her in, head nuzzling into the crook of her head, stubble grazing soft flesh, “i never really noticed it before, but you wear a butterfly necklace. is there any significance behind that?”

“i thought we were going to sleep hotchner,” rowan let out a hoarse chuckle, “but, to answer your query, i wear it in honor of my older brother. he was stillborn. when i was younger, my mom used to tell me that every single butterfly that i encountered was joshua, and he was just fluttering by to say hello. i wear the necklace to keep him close to my heart, because that’s where he resides. nearly every night, i dream about meeting him. i.. i really wish i could give him a hug sometimes, ya know? but you can’t hug butterflies or else that will kill them.”

fingers intertwined with hers, “you didn’t have to share that with me, ro, but i am so grateful that you did.”

“the thing is,” she paused, exhaling, “i want to share everything with you, aaron.”

lips brushed against her skin, “and i want to hear it all. every memory, every story, every inside joke. i want you to share these experiences and tales with me, rowan. i promise that i’ll listen.”

“what’s wrong with us? we’re not supposed to fall in love, aaron hotchner. you’re my boss. we’re federal agents. if anyone found out, our lives would be obliterated. if strauss ever caught wind of this, oh my god we would be--”

“rowan, listen to me,” the words were grounding, “i don’t care what happens. there’s a lot of uncertainty in the future, but i know one thing’s for certain. i want anything to do with you, no matter what the cost. i would ask about those damn boots you love so much, but we really need to sleep if we’re going to function at all tomorrow. and i need that brilliant mind of yours if we’re going to get this guy.”

“i was planning on spilling a few more secrets.”

“we have the whole flight home for that,” the laugh vibrated in his throat, “sleep well, rowan. sweet dreams. i’ll be here when you wake up.”

“sweet dreams hotchner,” rowan murmured, lids heavy with exhaustion.

within hours, beams of light were filtering in through the curtains, stirring the agent awake. groggily, she shifted, rolling over to face aaron, instinctively leaning in to press her lips against his for a warm good morning.

but he wasn’t there, the mattress nothing but an unforgiving void of cold sheets and broken promises.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

“listen,” emily prentiss grumbled, sifting through a pile of bills, “you owe me if i’m right.”

“i won’t,” rossi countered, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he cracked a smug smirk, “this isn’t the fifty i was promised when we made this bet. we shook on it, remember?”’

derek morgan poked his head out a door, “do you guys think they fucked?”

“fucked is such a vulgar word,” garcia snorted, shouldering past morgan, “also, i hate you for putting that filthy image in my head. it’s going to be there all day thanks to you.”

“It’s nothing that we don’t do babygirl,” morgan shot her a wink, “how much do i owe you, rossi?”

“fifty dollars,” rossi beamed, “i prefer fives, if you have them.”

“i don’t think that they had sexual intercourse,” reid cleared his throat, striding towards the elevator, “the infrastructure of this building has extremely thin walls. i would have heard something. do you guys even think that hotch has that stamina to--”

“all right, that’s enough!” morgan coughed, throwing his bag over his shoulder, “where is hotch, anyways? the door is cracked, but i haven’t seen him or rowan leave the room.”

“i’m sure all of our questions will be answered within the hour,” rossi remarked, accepting a wad of cash from morgan, “if we see hotch smile today, then that tells us that they weren’t sleeping last night.”

the team held their breaths as a door opened, rowan stepping out, shutting it softly behind her, “good morning guys.”

“good morning rivers!” prentiss chirped, “how did you sleep last night? don’t tell me he made you sleep on the floor.”

“i didn’t get much sleep at all,” the brunette muttered, “have you guys seen hotch at all this morning?”

“no,” rossi replied curtly, “we thought you two were getting a few more minutes of snuggling before we had to leave.”

rowan’s eyes squeezed shut, her features twisting together with pain, “c-can we please just quit it with the teasing today? just for today?”

“oh,” prentiss’ face fell, brow furrowing with concern, “i-is everything alright rivers?”

“we didn’t mean to--” morgan began, but was promptly cut off by garcia.

“maybe you just haven’t had your morning coffee yet buttercup. let’s get you something to eat too. you look like you’ve seen a ghost or something utterly horrifying. caffeine always lifts my spirits.”

as garcia and rowan strolled to the elevator, whispering amongst one another, rossi nudged morgan, “something happened last night between the two of them.”

“should we ask hotch about it?” prentiss inquired, picking a hair off her blazer, “or, should we leave it be?”

“i’ll handle it,” rossi smoothed out his shirt, lugging his back behind him.

“i have an inkling that our unit chief is not aware of the consequences that come with reckless thinking.”

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

“how are things today kiddo?” rowan flinched as a hand connected with her shoulder, “you’ve barely spoken a word to us all morning. and you’ve listened to every single order hotch has given you. is there something wrong?”

“oh,” rowan blinked, swiveling around in a chair, “um, i’ve just had a morning, i guess.”

letting out a sigh, david rossi slid into the nearest seat, scooting towards the agent, “you forget that i’ve been in this field for years, rowan. i know when something’s up. i won’t prod too much, but i’m worried about you. is it something to do with the case?”

“d-do you think anyone’s going to come over here?” rowan’s gaze flickered towards the group of cops huddled around the control center, chattering away.

“come,” rossi rose to his feet, offering the brunette his elbow, “let’s go on a walk. there’s not much to do around here anyways. garcia is picking through the laptop, it may take a while.”

graciously, rowan accepted his offer, following him outside of the station into the dreariness of forks. dark, flint grey clouds loomed over, threatening rain. the air was chilly, piercing the agent to the bone as she clung onto rossi.

“wait,” rossi paused, discarding his coat, “did romeo forget to offer his juliet his coat this morning?”

shoving her arms into the sleeves, rowan shuddered as a breeze rolled through the streets, “romeo is a fucking jackass, that’s what.”

“oh is he now?” rossi mused, “i figured he was the reason why your mood drastically changed. if you don’t mind me asking, what happened?”

“a lot,” the agent mumbled, careful to avoid the question.

“i want to help,” he stated, his tone cool, “but i can’t do that if you don’t let me know what happened, rowan.”

“i-i’m sure it’s no secret that i came from a very, very, horrible place,” rowan began, shrinking inside the coat, boots thudding against the pavement, “the first day i arrived at the bau, it was also no secret that aa-- hotch and i butted heads. there are still times in which he annoys the shit out of me, but that’s besides the point. last night i made a mistake. i allowed myself to be vulnerable and let him see parts of me that i’ve hidden for so long. rossi, i-i, i’ve never allowed a man to touch me like that. not since the night of the stakeout.”

“rowan, you don’t have to continue if it’s only going to--”

“rossi, three people tore me apart. i’m still healing, the wounds are there, and they’re deep and jagged. and i promised myself that i would never let anyone in since that night, and here i am, passively watching as it happens. i let him in, and it was so beautiful and exhilarating. i wish it would have lasted forever but it didn’t. he was gone before i opened my eyes,” sobs racked rowan’s body as her knees buckled, crumpling to the pavement.

a single tear trickled down david rossi’s cheek, his heart nearly splitting into two, “oh rowan, i am so sorry. i am so fucking sorry. you can’t blame yourself for any of it. what happened in columbus was not your fault, rowan.”

“t-thank you,” she wiped her tears, her cheeks flushed, “i’m sorry for breaking down.”

“you don’t have to apologize for that either kiddo,” rossi extended a hand, guiding her to her feet, “you’re human. it’s okay.”

“have you talked to hotch at all today?”

“not yet,” the agent shook his head, “however, i have some unfinished business to tend to.”

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

the rain was relentless, falling in sheets as aaron hotchner navigated through the wilderness, droplets streaming down his brow onto his cheeks, blurring his vision. david rossi was not far behind, merely a few feet away.

after garcia scoured every nook and cranny of the unsub’s personal laptop, she managed to extract essential information regarding his whereabouts. the team had split up into several groups, partnering up with one another to fan out, hoping to close in on an abandoned cabin, deep in the woods of forks.

with every step, aaron hotchner’s bones seared, desperate for relief. he was exhausted, the lack of sleep no help whatsoever. yet, it was only a matter of hours now before he was back home, all warm and dry, relaxing on the couch with jack, watching his favorite movie.

only a couple more hours and he would be home.

“all right dumbass,” hotch’s head whipped around at the harsh tone laced in rossi’s words, “i have some choice words for you.”

“excuse me?”

the agent stopped in his tracks, folding his arms across his chest, “you two had sex, didn’t you?”

“w-what?” hotch sputtered, shock plastered across his features, “rossi, what are you talking about?”

there was a beat of silence before rossi resumed, “you broke down your walls and decided to be intimate with her but then the second the run rose, you were out of the bed, as distant and cold as possible. i know how that shit works, aaron. it’s not a pleasant feeling to wake up and not have the person there.”

aaron hotchner almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing, “rossi, come on we have a case-”

“why would you say all that shit to her, hotch? we all know that you have feelings for her ah-,” rossi held up a hand, challenging aaron to butt in, “don’t interrupt me. it’s okay to have feelings but you know what’s not okay? hurting her because you’re scared. you don’t have to explain your feelings to me but please explain them to her. we all know she doesn’t deserve this at all, hotch. and you of all people should know that.”

“we’re working on a case and the only thing on your mind right now is scolding me for--”

“don’t change the fucking subject, aaron. you need to get yourself together, if not for yourself then for her,” his fury bubbled up as he spoke, the mocha depths blazing an obsidian hue.

“rossi, you know what that divorce did to me--” hotch stammered, scrambling for formulate some sort of response. some sort of deflection so that the discussion would cease.

“but look at what you’re doing to her.”

“but rossi i--” hotch was on the verge of retaliation, but rossi pointed a finger at him, jabbing it into his arm, so forceful that aaron nearly yelped.

“no, aaron. this is for you to explain to her. not to me.”

*****

rowan rivers hovered over her desk, collecting some final papers, gathering them in a neat pile as members of the team filed into the elevator, silence consuming the behavioral analysis unit of quantico, virginia. everyone was beyond worn, their muscles sore, tense from the washington atmosphere, their minds weary from the heavy burdens of the job.

however, there was a far heavier burden weighing on rowan’s mind.

the click of shoes meeting tile caught rowan’s attention, a familiar pair of slacks appearing in her peripheral vision.

“you’re right rowan.”

aaron hotchner stood before her, his coat draped over an arm, bag slung across his shoulder. even in the light, rowan couldn’t help but notice the faint purple rings forming underneath his eyes, the thick lashes almost hiding them. the wrinkles lining his forehead and eyes were more prominent, deepened by hardships and loss. inky black hair that was gelled over only hours before was unkempt, strands of hair falling into his forehead.

rowan wanted nothing more to throw her arms around him, holding him close for an embrace.

but, she felt as if she couldn’t. not after what he did.

the agent met his gaze, her lips pursed with confusion, “aaron, what are you talking about?”

he shifted, swaying from side to side, fumbling with his hands, “you’re right about me. i’m afraid. i’m afraid of falling for you and not being able to control it. i hate not being in control ro, but god do i lose control every single second i’m around you.”

“aaron we don’t have to--”

he shook his head, lower lip trembling, “no i want to talk about this, ro. you told me to pick a side and i pick you.”

it was almost as if a weight was lifted from her shoulders. there was no more confusion, no more unrest. no more tears to be shed pondering over the “what ifs.” he was fessing up, finally answering the queries that kept her up late at night, losing hours of sleep.

he didn’t hate her.

he was falling in love with her.

tears welled up in his eyes, tinging them red as he choked down sobs, burying his face in his hands. carefully, rowan’s hands enveloped his wrists, bringing them away from his face, “i’m just as afraid, aaron. but it’s okay. we’re in this together, just two people falling for one another.”

the second rowan’s hand cupped his cheeks, cradling his face in her hands, aaron melted, collapsing completely, “rossi confronted me about it all. he said i needed to get my shit together because it was hurting you. i’m sorry. i’m so sorry. i can be a little bit dense sometimes and a bit of an asshole.”

“a bit dense and a bit of an asshole?” rowan teased, the pad of her thumb wiping away a tear, “that sounds a little bit like you, aaron.”

“come home with me tonight. no hiding feelings. no intoxication. i just want you in my arms,” aaron murmured, his mouth nearly inches away from hers.

his heart skipped a beat as the corners of her lips curled into a bright, radiant grin, her head bobbing, “i’d like that. i’d like that very much.”

within hours, she was clinging to his frame, her head nuzzled against the fabric of his tee, light snores echoing through the room. his hands were threaded into her hair, subconsciously playing with the silky brunette locks as he glanced through paperwork, careful not to disturb her one bit.

his phone vibrated against the wood of the nightstand, piquing his interest. the caller i.d. was all too familiar.

“hotchner.”

“hey hotch it’s jj, i know that we all just made it home, barely settling in for the night but we were just invited on a case. from the sound of it, it’s quite urgent. the governor wants us to fly out there as soon as possible,” the blonde’s voice crackled on the speaker.

“and where’s this case?” a hand gravitated to rowan’s, lacing their fingers together as she stirred, bleary from sleep.

“columbus. columbus, ohio.”

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

tagged: @sapphicstars @colorlessfl0wers @inlovewithaaronhotchner @lovebodymindstuff

#aaron hotchner #hotch #criminal minds #thomas gibson #criminal minds fic #hotch x oc #bau #hotch fluff

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sandalaris · 3 years

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send your a character impression asks: Seth and Kate if you don't have those already, and Jeff Winger and Annie Edison! ❤❤❤

Seth Gecko

First impression: I think I loved him right off the bat. He’s snarky and quick witted and those are usually the characters I like first.

Impression now: Not much has changed. I suppose I have more of an understanding for how he handled his demons now compared to my initial reaction to his heroin use. And I definitely think he’s at his healthiest in season three.

Favorite moment: Oh jeeze, he has so many good ones! I suppose I rather like him in Shady Glen. Just like his whole taking charge of the group and his awkwardly trying to smooth things over when he and Richie busted in guns drawn on that woman and her son. Reminded me of the convo between him and the Dew Drop Inn clerk.

Idea for a story: Nothing new, but I’ve got anther tUA-inspired AU snippet brewing that touches more on Seth’s Bad Ass Normal superpower though.

Unpopular opinion: I don’t know that it’s all that unpopular, but I’m not convinced Seth used again after season two. I’m not convinced he didn’t either, but it’s never been a personal headcanon or something that I’ve felt was a given or anything. I mostly feel that he went back to popping prescription pain pills and probably mixing them with alcohol (not smart) when he was feeling particularly shitty.

Favorite relationship: Probably him and Richie (although he and Kate are a close second.) Their relationship is pretty much the heart of the show and I don’t think I would’ve loved it nearly so much had it not been.

Favorite headcanon: It’s a tie between Seth getting a cross tattoo to represent Kate after season three, and that Seth started questioning his faith after the blood-transfusion-that-shouldn’t’ve-worked. And as a tie into the second one, that he and Kate do not have compatible blood types, something Seth learned after the fact.

Kate Fuller

First impression: That she was a typical, albeit a bit on the mature side, teenage girl, lol. At least for most of season one. I think I probably stereotyped her a bit, because I remember not realizing just how quickly Kate grew unafraid/immune to the Gecko Brothers until my first rewatch.

Impression now: She is so much a “there’s bravery in remaining soft”/”world’s nicest badass”/”do not mistake my kindness for ignorance” character. She has this quiet strength and is unwavering in who she is at her core.

Favorite moment: Pretty much anytime Kate meets someone new and they inevitably get attached and decide to go to the ends of the earth for her (or they’re evil and decide they want to possess her *cough*Malvado,Tanner,Oculto*cough*)

Idea for a story: I’ve been wanting to write a fairytale!AU, particularly with my favorite fairytale, but it doesn’t fit SethKate all that well. Maybe I’ll just expand on that crack!ficlet I wrote...? Idk. I’ve got too many wips anyway.

Unpopular opinion: I can’t think of one I haven’t named before. I suppose with the increase in purity culture here on Tumblr the fact that I really don’t mind the age gap between Seth and Kate nor do I think it makes any difference if Kate’s underage or legally an adult would count.

Favorite relationship: In show it’s probably her and the Gecko Brothers, but in those inbetween moments I really love her and Scott.

Favorite headcanon: Currently I’m think about how I headcanon that Kate has some lingering muscle memory about swordsmanship from Amaru. Its nothing too exciting, especially since Amaru’s pre-Earth memories -and therefore her memories of learning to use a sword- are fuzzy at best, but her body practiced with one enough during those six months that it falls into place easy enough when she picks up a blade.

Jeff Winger

First impression: Like Seth, he’s that brand of snarky and quick witted that I immediately like.

Impression now: I don’t know that it’s changed much. I love how the show let Jeff grow but also let him slip back into old habits. People don’t change overnight, and while Jeff didn’t need each lesson hammered over his head repeatedly, he did need to learn not to fall back into his default mode whenever he could.

Favorite moment: Anytime Jeff shows genuine excitement to hang out with the study group. Like when he showed up early to the apartment for the wedding.

Idea for a story: I’ve had this idea for a while where Jeff never got caught and is an even worse version of himself than he was circa the pilot. And he somehow meets a few (maybe all?) of the study group only they don’t make him a better person so much as he manipulates them into being part of his life as he unwantingly grows attached to each of them. It’s kind of dark for a Community fic, not counting some of the darkest timeline fics, but the idea entered my head one day and has been living rent free there ever sense.

Unpopular opinion: Its mostly unpopular among Jeff/Annie shippers, but I rather like how the Jeff/Britta storyline played out. It makes sense to me that they became friends with benefits and that the sexual tension between them faded as they got to know each other on a deeper level since they were incompatible. Plus, I really like their friendship.

Favorite relationship: I really loved his and Abed’s dynamic at the beginning of the series, but for the bulk of the show it’s a tie between him and Annie (romantic) and him and Britta (platonic)

Favorite headcanon: I fully believe Jeff is demiromantic. Its why he doesn’t think romantic love is real, he so rarely experiences it and only after getting close to someone, something he actively avoids doing, and why he figured that having a friend he gets along with and is sexually attracted to is all that was needed for a romantic relationship.

Annie Edison

First impression: Mainly I just remember not liking her crush on Troy in the first season, lol. I’ve never been that into ships where one side is super obvious and kind of desperate while the other is oblivious and/or sees them as just friends. I was really proud of her when she decided to not let Troy use her grandmother’s blanket (which is coincidentally also the episode I started to ship her and Jeff, albeit mildly at the time) and their friendship later on was wonderful.

Impression now: She’s one of my favorite characters on the show, although on Community I love them all so that’s not saying much, lol. Troy says it best when he says that Annie expects everyone to be better than they are and for herself to be better than everyone.

Favorite moment: I can’t just pick one moment, grr. Fine, the first thing that popped into my head was Annie saying the line about “a C? Why don’t I just get pregnant at a gas station?!” or something like that. Just her absolute insistence that anything less than perfection in herself is some kind of a epic failure in life is just amusing to me.

Idea for a story: I don’t think I really have any off the top of my head that aren’t Community as a whole fics. I’d love to write an AU for the show someday, it lends itself to the concept so well that just about any sort of AU would do. An I still have the FDtD crossover fic that is sitting all messy in my wip folder.

Unpopular opinion: I don’t really care where they went with her character in seasons five and six (I particularly don’t like how it was played for laughs that she started taking pills again between seasons 4 and 5). Her storylines are mostly fine, but I prefer the way her character went in the seasons that came before.

Favorite relationship: I was trying to think of someone besides Jeff, but even not looking at them as a ship I really did love their dynamic throughout the show.

Favorite headcanon: Annie’s parents where the ones who got her hooked on Adderall, telling her what to say to her doctor to get a prescription or maybe bringing home a bottle themselves, so that she could keep up her perfect grades and do all the right afterschool activities to get into an Ivy League school and make them proud. They were mostly embarrassed that Annie “couldn’t handle it” and tried to quit, saying she needed to try harder and “really, Annie, stop being so dramatic” when she OD’d.

#seth gecko #kate fuller #fdtd #jeff winger #annie edison #community

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meaninglessblah-writes · 4 years

Text

Writing Prompt Wednesday

It hasn’t even been a full hour before Tim hears the clack of the handheld clicker again. It’s been plaguing his every waking moment for the last week, with increasing frequency, and whilst it hasn’t yet emerged into the realm of unbearably annoying, the mystery behind its use is starting to grate on Tim’s nerves.

He turns to face Damian where he’s sat at the conference table, gloves shucked and a blueberry muffin in his hand. There’s a sprinkling of crumbs dotting his cheek that Tim is compelled to point out to his compulsively hygienic tendencies, except that his attention is drawn - once again - to the small black device resting in Damian’s other palm.

“Damian,” he hedges, and braces for the staccato clack-clack.

“Yes, Timothy?” Damian responds once the sound has settled firmly in Tim’s eardrums, turning to face him. Jason’s chin lifts a notch to watch their interaction where he’s sprawled back on the chair adjacent, tilting back precariously on two legs as he rocks his heels against the lip of the table.

Tim shoves down the uneasy turn of his stomach and asks, “What on earth is that?”

Damian inspects the device like he’s only just noticing it. “It’s a behavioural stimulant. Primarily used on dogs. I’ve been training Titus, and found it quite effective in bridging the gap between positive reinforcement and reward distribution.”

Tim feels his brow pull into a tight crease. “So why do you have it down here?”

“I’m experimenting,” he replies cryptically and shortly, and doesn’t seem to feel the need to elaborate. Tim frowns but returns to his post-patrol procedure, stripping back his cowl and setting the cape aside.

Clack-clack.

This time he turns entirely to glare at the pair of men at the table, meeting twin blank, innocent expressions. “Okay, what is going on here? What’s with the clicking?”

“He told you,” Jason interjects. “We’re experimenting.”

“Experimenting on what?” Tim snaps, though he suspects he knows the answer.

“Whether subjects’ inadequate habits can be curbed and replaced with satisfactory behaviours,” Damian says primly. “Specifically with regard to cleanliness and environmental tidiness.”

Tim blinks, and tries to digest that. “That doesn’t explain why you clicked at me, just now.”

Damian pauses a moment, like he’s considering whether to explain or not, and says, “You folded your cape.”

Tim glances down at the material in his hands, which is sure enough folded with neat precision into a compact stack worthy of display case. It’s a little surprising to see, given how haphazard he usually is with tossing the cape over any available surface in his post-patrol haze. He doesn’t even remember folding it.

It makes him a little uneasy, as he drops into his chair and brings up his digital report. The sooner he can make his notes, the sooner he can duck out from under Damian and Jason’s lingering presences. He can’t help but feel how he’s being watched, the sensation dragging up his spine as he begins to type.

He does his best to shove the thought from his mind. The less attention he gives them, the more likely they are to grow tired of whatever game they’re playing and leave him be.

Tim almost manages to forget their presence after a few minutes, swept up in the tide of pattering keys and scrolling text, when he reaches for his mug of cold coffee. Lifts it to his lips without pausing, takes a sip, and sets it down.

Clack-clack.

It ratchets Tim’s shoulders up, snaps him right out of whatever focused reverie he’d managed to achieve, as he spins to stare pointedly at Damian’s palm. The man doesn’t break beneath the glower, except to shift his thumb off the button and chew silently.

Tim lifts an eyebrow, and Damian eventually swallows.

“Coaster,” he says, with a slight tilt towards Tim’s desk, and sure enough, when he glances down to where his fingers are still wrapped around the handle of his mug, it’s resting on the cork coaster to the left of his keyboard.

He doesn’t even remember putting it there. Has only the vague recollection of Alfred huffing and shifting his mug time and time again, of it gradually becoming buried beneath the clutter of his desk, the coaster swamped with more mugs than it could possibly ever hold.

Glancing down the width of his desk now, Tim is stunned to realise how… tidy it is. He hadn’t even noticed.

“Damn,” Jason murmurs, almost too low for Tim to hear. When he glances back the man is nodding above the weave of his arms over his chest, an impressed smile tugging at his lips. “I still haven’t managed to train that one into Dickie yet. That’s impressive.”

Damian looks a little too proud at the praise, and several dots connect in Tim’s head.

“Are you testing me?” Tim asks, too shocked to be as incredulous as he intends.

“Training,” Damian corrects, and Tim pulls to his feet. Shoves his chair back loudly into the desk on habit, hard enough to rattle the mug on its coaster and the handful of pens arranged neatly beneath the monitor.

Not loud enough to drown out the resulting clack-clack.

“Stop that,” Tim demands, frustration rising, and yanks his hand back from the tucked-in seat. Since when did he ever treat his furniture so well? Since when was he organised enough to do anything other than leave a careless trail of clothing and belongings behind him on his half-comatose trudge up to his bedroom?

It’s downright spooky, and he doesn’t like the implications.

“How long have you been training me with that thing?” Tim snaps in a sudden spiral of fear. Surely it can’t have been that long, or he would have noticed sooner. Wouldn’t he?

Unless it’s been so pervasive that everything but his subconscious has tuned out the noise of the clicker, releasing a helpful little dose of dopamine into his sleep-addled brain every time Tim completes a designated task.

Tim doesn’t think it’s been that long. It can’t have been. Otherwise the compulsion would be harder to shake. Right?

Damian and Jason share a look that does nothing to ease Tim’s concerns.

“How long?” he demands.

“Three weeks,” Jason admits, folding his hands behind his head as he tilts. “Same time I started training Dick. We didn’t think it would work so quickly, but our apartment is the tidiest I’ve seen it in literal months. He even cleared the dining table without so much as a look from me the other night.”

Tim’s burning gaze swings to Damian. “And you’re training me why?”

“Because you’re filthy, Timothy,” Damian replies airily, and reaches for another blueberry muffin. Since he filled out his third upgrade of the pixie boots and came into as many inches, the current Robin’s appetite has been unquenchable. He’s rivalling Jason at the breakfast table most days, shovelling down eggs and pancakes with gusto only for Tim to find him hunting through the pantry an hour later.

“Your mess was becoming unbearable,” Damian continues, with a corroborating nod from Jason, “and you respond poorly to advice from either of us. So we took matters into our own hands.”

“By training me,” Tim accuses, “like a dog.”

Jason shrugs, and Damian echoes the sentiment. “The results justify the means.”

“You’re conditioning me,” Tim stresses, crossing over to the table to stand over the squirt. It’s not nearly as impressive as it used to be, now that Damian’s actually packing on and holding muscle weight. “Without my consent, without my knowledge. For your own selfish benefit.”

“Have you not benefited?” Damian retorts with a pointed sweep of Tim’s very tidy workspace. He can’t bring himself to turn around to look, to be betrayed by his own unwitting compliance.

“That’s irrelevant.”

“I think it’s very relevant. Both Richard and you have made incredible progress in such a short time. Both your lives have become more manageable since we implemented your training. Your organisation has improved, and as a result, your demeanour. It can only improve further from here.”

“So what comes next? You buy me a collar and start teaching me tricks?”

Jason snorts, loud and obnoxious, as colour rises on Damian’s cheeks. Tim doesn’t give him a chance to draw in a full breath before he fixes the other man with a cold stare.

“I’m sure Dick’s going to be just thrilled when he finds out you’ve been training him like a circus seal. I expect that’s going to do wonders for your sex life, Hood.”

Jason’s laughter snaps off, his expression bleeding into sudden hesitant concern. “Now, wait a second-”

Tim smirks. “You haven’t seen how bad his cold shoulder gets yet, have you? Dickie’s got a temper, Hood, and you’re about to find out exactly how bad blueballs can get when you set it off.”

“That’s uncalled for,” Jason tries to defend, tucking his legs back under the table as he sets his chair down. Tim cuts him off with a sharp cluck-cluck of his tongue, stunning both men into sudden silence as he grins.

“You know, that’s actually pretty useful,” Tim murmurs, malicious satisfaction filling his chest when both their expressions fall into wary horror. “Don’t even necessarily need a clicker to achieve the results either. But you’re both missing an important element of the training process.”

“Which is?” Damian entreats with the hesitance of a man feeling blindly for a bomb.

Tim makes sure he leans down close enough to see the individual crumbs on the teen’s face, to feel the sharp intake of his breath when Tim grins sharply and purrs, “You have to follow up the immediate approval with a reward.”

Damian swallows hard, the blueberry muffin making an odd protrusion as it travels down his throat.

“Good boy,” Tim murmurs, low and coaxing, and feels an immense wash of gratification when Damian’s cheeks flush red beneath his complexion.

Damian’s mouth opens and closes, producing no sound as Tim straightens and glances over at Jason, who’s just as cowed.

“I’m going to bed now. If I so much as hear the sound of that clicker in my dreams, I’ll flood your public social media profiles,” he threatens, pointing his index finger at Jason to watch him pale before it swivels to fix on Damian, “with his very inventive furry art.”

Jason spins to fix Damian with an accusatory stare that he flounders to rebut, the muffin slipping from his fingers in his defensive panic. Tim smirks and turns up the stairs to the sounds of an argument erupting behind him, letting his shoulders slide out of their tense curl with the assurance that he doesn’t need to worry about any pesky clickers anytime soon.

“Goodnight, boys,” he calls back, drowned by the shrieking below, “and be good.”

You can send me a prompt here!

#writing prompt wednesday #Tim Drake #Damian Wayne #Jason Todd #dick grayson/jason todd #meaninglessblah

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