#i wasn’t on the dash for more than twenty or so posts a week for like three months there be for real | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fragileruns · 11 months

Note

Hey can I submit a request for Rooster please? Perhaps where he and the reader met as teens and have been together for a while and they rarely argue, but they’ve had an argument and are trying to stay mad at each other but they can’t and it’s like super fluffy but also a lil bit of angst dashed in there? 💗

hi, lovely!! thank you so much for requesting, i hope this is what you wanted <33 ily! also, for everyone else, i’m working on fics for the speak now (taylor’s version) event! i’m planning on either posting one for mean or enchanted sometime this week <3

warnings: very very light angst, some cursing, fluffy ending w/ lovesick bradley/reader, reader is called needy, female terms used for reader, not proofread

You and Bradley hardly ever argued. At least, not over anything major - maybe over who’s turn it was to do dishes, or over where to eat, but anything else was a rare occasion, which was surprising for a couple that had been together over twenty years, but nice.

The not-so nice part, though, was that when you did argue, it was always so much worse. It was filled with pent up frustration and it never ended well. Tonight might have been the worst one yet.

It started off small, both of you being tired after having long days, and neither of you were in the mood to be messed with. You argued over what to eat, then over how messy the house was, and it somehow escalated from there. It went from him, in somewhat nicer terms, calling you lazy and you telling him you could use help trying to clean things up, to you accusing him of never being home and him telling you that you were too needy.

You both said hurtful things, and you knew you were no better in the argument than he had been, but that had been what hurt the most.

“God, you’re just so fucking needy all the time. I can’t come runnin’ home everytime my girlfriend decides she wants to cuddle or something. This is my job.”

You were silently washing the dishes now, and Bradley glanced up from where he was sitting on the couch with his head in his hands every few seconds. He felt guilty, but he was hurt, too. He wanted an apology as much as you did.

Once you got down to the last dish, Bradley watched you scrub it more times than it needed to be, and you dried it as slow as you possibly could. It was killing him, and he needed you to finish and just say something. Anything. Even if he didn’t want to hear it.

You set the dish to the side, and rather than walking to the couch to talk things out, like he had expected, you just went straight upstairs to your shared bedroom. He was quick to follow up, like a puppy on a leash, but he still stayed silent. You ignored the fact that he was on your tail, keeping your gaze ahead of you.

You changed into more comfortable clothes, and he had been sitting on the bed once you came out of the bathroom, watching your every move. You grabbed a pillow from the bed and once you reached for the blanket, he broke.

“What are you doing?”

“Sleeping somewhere else.”

“You’re not doing that.” It wasn’t a question, and he grabbed the blanket from your grasp before reaching from the pillow. You let him, but he could still see the upset on your face.

“I don’t want to be around you right now. I’m still mad.”

“I’m not exactly thrilled with you either, sweetheart, but you’re not sleeping on the couch or anywhere else. That’s not how this works, you know it.” And you did. You both had an agreement, from your first big fight - it was right after you had graduated highschool, and long distance in college was tricky to navigate. You had been mad at each other and refused to text or call for days, and even after you were both over it, it felt too awkward to reach out first. So, the rule was formed: never go to bed without talking to each other. Even if you’re still both upset, running away or avoiding each other wasn’t an option.

“You hurt my feelings,” you admitted, your voice quieter than you would have liked, and Bradley sighed at the confession. His hands reached out to grab your own, and despite how much you longed for the comfort, you pulled them away. He frowned, but didn’t force it.

“You hurt my feelings, too. We both said some things we shouldn’t have.”

You knew he was right, but you were stubborn and he knew that. You looked down to the floor instead of responding, and he stood up from where he was sitting so that he could cup your cheeks and force your gaze back on him.

“I’m sorry, okay? We were both in the wrong, but I shouldn’t have said that. You’re not too needy. And if I could come running home everyday just to spend time with you, I would. If there’s a needy one in this relationship, it’s me, and I’m sorry for saying that to you,” he spoke first, letting your head go once he got his point across.

“I’m sorry, too. I was horrible. I shouldn’t have said you’re never home ‘cos I know you want to be, I know you’re here as much as you can - and you do help out, a lot. More than you should have to, I was just so upset and I don’t even know why,” you bursted out, the apology having built up until you couldn’t stand it. You just hadn’t wanted to be the first one to break.

Bradley sighed, being quick to wrap you into his arms, pressing your head into his chest, kissing the top of your hair. “I know, it’s okay. It was just a long day, hmm?”

“I’m sorry,” you said again, quieter this time. And, as if he had some sort of sixth sense for these things (which he does, he calls it the ‘boyfriend sense’), he pulls your head back to wipe away the oncoming tears.

“It’s okay, I forgive you. You don’t have to apologize again, we’re okay,” he assured you, though it didn’t stop the tears. All the emotions from the argument had gotten pent up, and you couldn’t push them back in now. “Hey, I was an asshole too, huh? If anything, I should be apologizing to you. Can’t believe I called my perfect girl needy.”

You could tell he was just trying to switch things back around to him, always being the one to do anything to stop you from crying. You were grateful, so you played along. “Lazy, too.”

“Lazy, too. My poor girl, I’m sorry.” Your head was back laying on his chest now, and he was mumbling into your hair. You knew it was all for the sake of cheering you up, both of you knew there wasn’t just one person in the wrong. That wasn’t how your fights worked.

“I don’t like being mad at you,” you admitted, calming down a bit from where he had been rubbing your back. “You make it too hard.”

“I make it hard? You were giving me the silent treatment, how was I supposed to deal with that? You know I can’t go a second without hearing your voice.”

“That’s why I do it.”

“Mean.” He said, and you knew he was joking. His hands fell to your sides, pinching the skin there lightly, and you pulled away from him with a slight giggle. He grinned at the sound, successful in his mission at getting rid of your upset. He sat down on the edge of the bed again, pulling you with him to curl up on his lap.

You let out a content sigh as he placed his head in the crook of your neck, peppering light kisses there.

“Can we never fight again?”

“You ask this everytime, honey.”

“Yeah, and we still fight. I think,” you started, getting distracted by the kisses he was leading up to your face now, and you tried to hold back your grin. “I think you should just always agree with me.”

“Yeah?” He questioned as he placed a kiss to your cheek, and you only nodded your head. “I guess I can do that.”

You both knew he wouldn’t, that another fight would be inevitable. But, you also knew that it’d always end the same way, just like this: both of you too lovesick to ever stay mad.

#bradley bradshaw blurb #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw drabble #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw angst #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster fanfic #rooster imagine #rooster x reader #rooster angst #rooster fluff #rooster x y/n #rooster x you

394 notes · View notes

fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

Hi! I love your writing! I live for every notification that you've posted something new.

I really like your fics where Coops are being fluffy and adorable, and the team finds them and are all adorable about it, like the Sirius cuddle one. I think that's my favorite.

Would you write Coops skating together before/after practice, and the team finding them and quietly going mushy watching?

I love those moments, too! This was an interesting (and difficult) fic for me to write, since I've never written Cole before, but I'm so looking forward to him in Vaincre. The song playing at the rink is 'American Gods' by ONR. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

Cole frowned. Upon Katie Dumais’ request, he had listened to “Hoedown Throwdown” enough times in the past two weeks to know the rhythm in his sleep, and that third beat just wasn’t lining up. He paused his attempt at working through the mess of his stall and straightened up, removing one earbud—sure enough, different music drifted from outside the locker room.

Someone else was at the rink.

He scanned the locker room, but saw no gear other than his own; two voices burst into faint laughter. Not the janitor, then. “Hello?” he called cautiously. It wasn’t against the rules for him to be at practice early, but maybe it was frowned upon by the others. Oh god, what if he became known as ‘the early guy’? The last ‘early guy’ he knew had become a suckup Coach’s pet, and everyone hated him for it.

There was a clatter, then more of the voices. Cole took his earbuds out and crept into the hall, wincing with each squeak of his sneakers.

Dumo’s at home, so it’s not the kids…Cole bit his lip as he tiptoed around the corner to the rink. “Oh, shit!” someone yelped before dissolving into laughter. He spotted two duffel bags on the bench, still full of gear, before a blur of movement flashed past and he had to duck behind the wall again to stay out of sight.

“Did you just trip over yourself?” Remus shouted across the ice from the other end with a wide grin. Cole craned his neck in time to see the captain nod, red-faced. “The great Sirius Black, everyone. Bravo, sir!”

Sirius skated over and checked him lightly—neither of them were wearing their pads, just skates and regular clothes. It was an odd sight. Cole felt a little like his two worlds were colliding. Off the ice, Remus and Sirius were kind (if a bit intimidating), and close with the team in a way he desperately wished for himself. On the ice, Cap and Loops were a wicked one-two punch that he idolized. They were careful with their words, and closed-off whenever media was around.

But out there, in their street clothes with well-loved sticks and a scattered collection of pucks, they looked so very different than the people Cole thought he knew.

A new song came on and Remus started doing the Sprinkler; Sirius had to sit down for a moment to catch his breath from laughing so hard, only to be dragged back to his feet and pulled along as Remus skated backwards. “If I have to get up, you have to sing for me,” he said with a groan, though his fond smile was visible from twenty feet away.

“Tell me all of my secrets, tell me all of my lies,” Remus sang, then paused. “And something, something, something…oh, American gods.”

Sirius shook his head. “Hopeless. Isn’t this your playlist?”

“I only added it for the drumbeat!” Remus protested, spinning him in a slow circle. “What, do you want to change it?”

“No, I want to watch you try to remember the lyrics while I push you over.”

“Wh—” Remus cut off with a squawk when Sirius let go of his hand mind-twirl, nearly sending him to the ice. “Son of a bitch!”

“Yes?” Sirius bit his lip and made a dash for the other end of the rink as Remus raced after him; Cole would never understand how someone so compact could build up that much speed in mere seconds. They chased each other in loops and swirls around the fresh ice, their voices echoing off the empty bleachers that didn’t hold a single fan or camera.

Realization trickled in like summer rain and he rested his shoulder against the wall. If he didn’t know them, Cole would have thought they were just some random couple, instead of two of the most famous modern athletes. He wasn’t watching Cap and Loops warming up for practice—he was watching Sirius and Remus screwing around in their free time, on the equivalent of a date.

Remus tried to dip sideways—a move that had helped him evade countless opponents, though Cole could never figure out—but Sirius caught him around the waist at the last second and lifted him off the ice. “Dirty play!” Remus called, sticking two fingers in his mouth to whistle. “Ten minutes in the box.”

“Ten minutes?” Sirius laughed. “I don’t think there’s an official penalty for picking other players up.”

“You wounded me.”

“Wimp.”

“My emotional state is in tatters,” Remus insisted as he kicked his legs halfheartedly. “I’ll never recover from this.”

“Are you sure?” Sirius set him down and turned him around, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“I feel short when you do that.”

“I hate to break it to you, but you are short.”

“Tremzy is short. I’m above the national average for men’s height by four full inches.”

“Shortie.” Sirius caught his hands and pulled, skating backward across the ice as the next chorus began. “Show my life in a mirror, through the opposite side—”

“Singing won’t get you out of this.”

“—and we kill for that moment, when we long to take flight—”

“How do you even know this song?”

“Because I actually remember lyrics when I listen to music,” he teased, turning them in a wobbly circle.

Remus leaned back, using his momentum to slide closer until they bumped chests. “Poet.”

Cole forgot that they were people, sometimes. Just people, enjoying some well-deserved time out of the spotlight.

“Cute, aren’t they?”

Cole jolted and clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle his yelp of surprise.

James shot him an amused look. “They do this before every afternoon practice.”

“Really?”

“Mhmm.”

“It’s so…normal.” He knew his bafflement shone through every word, but Pots seemed unbothered. Ahead of them, Sirius was lip-syncing to an old Paramore song as Remus tried to skate around him to get to the goal.

Pots raised an eyebrow. “What were you expecting?”

Cole made a vague gesture. “I dunno, actual practice? Running drills? The captain face?”

“The what?” James laughed quietly.

“The captain face.” He felt heat rise to his cheeks. “The one where it looks like you’re about to get reamed out by Cap at any given moment. It’s terrifying.”

“Reyes, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but that’s just his resting face.” Pots clapped him on the shoulder. “He’s the definition of RBF.”

Cole blinked at him. “This whole time, I thought he was gonna kill me if I slipped up.”

“Yup.”

“I’ve been afraid of him for two months and that’s just his face?”

“You get used to it.” He turned Cole back toward the ice, where Sirius’ smile was brighter than every fluorescent light in the building. “But he only looks like that around Loops.”

They stumbled a little going through an awkward attempt at a waltz, but they recovered at the last second, and Remus pulled him in for a light kiss. Cole felt his blush creep to his ears. “Should we go?”

Pots shrugged one shoulder. “They won’t notice either way.”

“This isn’t…creepy? They’re basically on a date.”

“They’re at the rink, remember?” A gleam entered his eye behind his glasses. “That means we get to chirp them for PDA in the workplace.”

Cole paused for a second and looked back, where Remus was playing keepaway with Sirius’ beanie. They darted around each other, practically flying over the ice—their footwork looked as natural as if they were born doing it. “It must be hard for them.”

“What?”

“Finding time to do this.” He glanced at James. “Everyone is expecting them to be one way all the time. I expected them to be one way all the time.”

James’ face softened and he draped an arm over Cole’s shoulders, leading him back down the hallway. “That’s what we’re here for. The best thing about this team isn’t our cohesion on the ice, or the Cup we won, or any of that. It’s that we’re friends, on and off the ice. As long as you remember that, you’ll never have to fit yourself in one specific box.”

Cole blinked at him. In two months of mentorship, he had never thought of James Potter as wise. “I swear you’re the same person that put shaving cream in everyone’s skates and blamed Harzy for it.”

James barked a laugh and ruffled his hair. “No boxes, Reyes. No boxes.”

#cole reyes #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #coops #vaincre #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #skating #rookie

230 notes · View notes

muffinbeliever · 2 years

Text

When the Stars Align [13]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Soulmate!Reader

Word Count: 2441

Warnings: none!

Summary: Soulmate!AU– Everyone has the first words their soulmate says to them tattooed on their wrists. You and your cat are living a normal life in Fort Collins, Colorado when three men come bursting through your door, completely changing your life. Reader-insert story. Starts around S06E08, but Sam has his soul, and it doesn’t really follow the series from there

A/N: hello my lovelies here is a short filler chapter with some cute charlie y/n friendship fluff. i really have more planned for the next chapter. my new years resolution was to establish a solid posting schedule for this story, and so hopefully i'll be sticking to that (fingers crossed lol) i plan on releasing a new chapter every monday!! please leave your feedback and thank you for reading!!!

Masterlist | When the Stars Align Masterlist

You were shaken awake, and you squinted at the harsh light filling the room. Once your eyes adjusted, you were surprised to find your red-headed friend rifling through your drawers, throwing your clothes into a duffle bag.

“Dude,” you said, hoarsely. Charlie looked over at you.

“Good, you’re awake. Come on, get dressed,” she said, throwing a bundle of clothes at you that you didn’t even attempt to catch. The ball of fabric landed on your bed, a sock landing on Meatball. The cat stood up and stared at the offending piece of clothing with disdain before leaping off the bed, trotting out of the room— presumably to Dean’s.

“I…” you propped yourself up on your elbow and rubbed your eyes, clearing them from sleep, before blinking at the figure rushing around your room. “What?”

“You needed an out, right? Well, now’s the perfect time for us to ditch. Sam and Dean went on a run,” she explained and you looked at her incredulously.

“Dean went on a run?” You scoffed, knowing full well how the older Winchester felt about any type of physical exertion that wasn’t related to sex.

“He said he needed to clear his head,” Charlie said with a shrug.

“Well then, we have like an hour before they get back. Why are you running around my room like a headless chicken?” You asked, still a bit confused. She stopped her rummaging and gave you a look.

“How long do you think Dean is going to last? I’m betting less than twenty minutes before Sam gets sick of his complaining and sends him back here. And how close by do you want to be when they realize we’re gone?” You sat up in bed, suddenly understanding your friend’s urgency.

“I’ll finish packing the rest of whatever I need. You go pack up your stuff and throw something together for us to eat. The last thing we need is to stop by a diner where someone could identify us,” you instructed, and she nodded at you before dashing out of your room.

Throwing your belongings haphazardly into the half-filled duffle bag, you scanned your room, making sure you had everything you needed. You knew you weren’t leaving forever, probably just a week tops, so you didn’t need much. You dressed quickly, scribbling a note for the boys so they wouldn’t freak out when they found out you were gone.

Staying with Charlie, be back in a few days. Please take care of Meatball.

“Y/N, let’s go!” Charlie’s voice echoed through the twisted hallways.

“Coming!” You shouted back before dashing to Dean’s room. You flicked on the light, and just as you had predicted, Meatball’s eyes blinked open slowly, his head raising at the disturbance. You kissed him on the head, and he nuzzled your hand in return.

“I’ll be back soon buddy, okay?” You told him, leaving him on the bed and turning the lights back off. Charlie was standing in the war room, her foot tapping impatiently. She sighed in relief when she saw you.

“Got everything?” She asked, picking up her bag from the floor as well as another bag that held some food.

“Yeah,” you said, slightly out of breath from all of the rushing around. The two of you hurried up the stairs and out the big metal door, locking it behind you. Within a minute, you were strapping yourself in as Charlie pulled out of the makeshift driveway. She sped off and you watched the towering building grow smaller in the side mirror.

The first ten minutes were quiet, as Charlie periodically checked the rearview mirror, half expecting to see the Impala behind you. When you were well away from Lebanon, she relaxed, the car slowing down to match the speed limit. She turned her head and flashed you a smile.

“So, where is it we’re going? I don’t even know where you live,” you laughed.

“Des Moines, Iowa,” she said, simply. Your eyebrows furrowed.

“Charlie, that’s like five hours from here. Won’t the boys just drive up?” You asked, knowing five hours of driving was nothing compared to their cross-country road trips for cases.

“Nah,” she said, confidently. “Sam will understand that you need space. He’ll convince Dean to give you some time and Dean will begrudgingly agree, but only after checking in on us, whether that be by phone or by sending Castiel.” You blinked at her prediction, knowing damn well it was right.

“Alrighty then,” you shrugged, and she winked before turning on the radio, immediately singing along to some pop-song that you didn’t recognize. Twenty minutes later, Charlie’s phone rang.

“Hello?” She answered, and your breath hitched at the gruff voice on the other end of the line.

“Is Y/N with you?” Dean asked, angrily. Charlie simply rolled her eyes.

“Yes, Dean. She’s sitting right next to me.” In the background, you heard Sam’s slightly muffled voice.

“Dude, I told you. She’s fine,” he said, and you could picture his annoyed face.

“Anyone could’ve written that note!” Dean argued, and you could practically hear Sam rolling his eyes.

“Dean, you know as well as I do that she’s h—.”

“Can it Sammy,” Dean cut in before turning his attention back to Charlie.

“No hunting,” he said sternly and then hung up the phone.

“Goodbye to you too Dean,” Charlie sighed. You gave her a weak smile.

“I told you,” she smirked, earning a laugh from you.

“I never doubted you for a second,” you replied. She cranked the volume of the radio back up, and music blasted throughout the car. You sang along to the songs you knew and when you didn’t, you watched the scenery zipping by. It was a couple of hours before Charlie pulled over, the car stopping on the side of the road. You looked at her quizzically, but when her stomach grumbled loudly and she gave you a sheepish smile, you laughed.

“Yeah, I agree,” you said, pulling the bag of food from the backseat. The two of you leaned against the hood of Charlie’s car as you munched away on the sandwiches she had packed. The highway was practically empty, and you admired the nature surrounding you.

The sun was high, but there was a cooling breeze. The wildflowers to your right swayed gently, and you watched a bee fly from flower to flower. It was quiet, the occasional leaf rustling from the wind, but nothing else. It was perfect. Well, almost perfect. It would’ve been perfect if there was a certain green-eyed man with you instead of Charlie, but you shook your head, clearing it of that thought. This was supposed to be your time to get away from all of that.

“So,” you said, looking over at your friend. “What words are on your wrist?” She turned her head to look at you, before thrusting her wrist into your face.

“See for yourself,” she said, and you looked at the words laid out before you: hara márissë. “What language is that?” You asked, bewildered. She laughed at your confusion, drawing her arm back.

“It’s Quenya, a language made by Tolkien for the Elves,” she explained, and you nodded in understanding.

“LARPing?” You asked as she took the last bite of her sandwich. She chewed slowly as she thought.

“That’s what most people assume, but really it could be anywhere. I mean, there’s LARPing but also Comic Con, literally hundreds of conventions, you name it,” she said, a hint of sadness twinged in her voice. You laid your hand on her shoulder in comfort. You gave her a sad smile.

“You’ll find her one day,” you reassured the red-head, and she nodded. It was quiet for a second before she clapped her hands together.

“Ready to hit the road?” She asked, throwing her empty sandwich wrapper into the bag.

“Lead the way,” you said, following suit. The remainder of the drive was filled with carefree giggles as the two of you talked more in depth about your hobbies and shared interests. It wasn’t long before you pulled into a parking garage of Charlie’s apartment building.

Your eyes swept the hallway as she fumbled through her purse for her keys. It was a fairly new building, not more than 15 years old. You followed Charlie into her apartment. There were two large windows that allowed sunlight to stream through, illuminating the space. You placed your bag on the floor by the couch.

“The bathroom is here on the right and my room is on the left. Help yourself to anything in the fridge. Mi casa es su casa,” she informed, and you thanked her with a smile. She went to her room to put down her stuff and change into more comfortable clothing. You lounged on the couch, pulling out a book while you waited.

“Okay, so I have today and tomorrow off,” she stated several minutes later, while walking out in a t-shirt and pajama pants, “Should we do a giant movie marathon?”

“Whatever you want is good with me,” you told her with a shrug. She fell onto the couch next to you, turning on the TV. It wasn’t long before you were continuing the movie from where you had stopped last night. About an hour after the sun had set, Charlie paused the movie and grabbed a pile of takeout menus from the kitchen counter, placing them in front of you.

“Pick out whatever sounds good,” she said, and you rifled through them, eventually choosing a Chinese restaurant.

“Yes! Their wantons are the bomb,” she squealed. Once the food was ordered, the movie resumed. You were already in the middle of the fourth one, having sped through the other three like wildfire. Occasionally Charlie or you would comment on something that had happened, briefly discussing behind-the-scenes trivia and whatnot, but mainly, Charlie was just reciting quotes from the movies, impressing you with her knowledge each time.

The two of you sat cross-legged on the couch, takeout boxes in one hand and a pair of chopsticks in the other, two bottles of beer on the coffee table in front of you. By the time the sixth movie had finished, you could barely keep your eyes open.

“I’m beat,” you said, relaxing against the back of the couch, your head snuggling into a plush pillow.

“Me too,” she said, and together, you cleaned up the food. While you were in the bathroom changing into your pajamas and brushing your teeth, Charlie called out from the living room.

“I put some extra pillows and blankets on the couch for you!” With a mouth full of toothpaste, you replied.

“Thanks!” But it really came out as more of a “Fanths!” You heard her laugh from the other room followed by her footsteps approaching the closed door. She knocked once.

“So, I vote sleeping in tomorrow.” You nodded your head before realizing she couldn’t see you. Quickly, you spit out the toothpaste and rinsed your mouth.

“Yeah, sounds good,” you said and she wished you a goodnight, which you returned. By the time you had left the bathroom, her bedroom door was shut, no light seeping through the crack under the door. Plopping down on the couch, you rearranged the pillows under your head and pulled the covers over your body. You stared at the dark ceiling, your thoughts traveling to the one person you had been trying to push out of your mind all day: Dean.

You recalled the warmth of his body as his bare chest pressed against your back, and the soft puffs of his breath against your hair. His face was wrinkle-free while he slept, making him look years younger. You missed the smell of his cologne mixed with leather and gunpowder, and the way he planted soft kisses on your forehead. A single tear rolled past your temple as you willed yourself to sleep.

Charlie’s couch was surprisingly comfortable— more so than any other couch you had laid on. You awoke to the sound of bacon sizzling and the smell of fresh-brewed coffee. Charlie was quietly humming along to the music playing through her headphones. The day passed by much like the first, moving onto the Lord of the Rings after you had finished the Harry Potter series. Instead of Chinese for dinner, you got pizza.

You fell into a routine throughout the week. You and Charlie would drink coffee together before she left for work, leaving you to your own devices. Sam would text you every other day, checking in, which you didn’t mind at all. On the fifth day, you had summoned the courage to ask about Dean, and Sam had told you that his brother had left the bunker shortly after you did, but rather than go on a hunt, he had gone to Bobby’s. Sam assumed he needed to get away for a little bit and sort through his thoughts while fixing up cars. After all, tending to Baby was one of Dean’s favorite pastimes.

You would spend your day reading or wandering Des Moines. You had never been to Iowa before, but you weren’t surprised to find that it was similar to Illinois. There was a small park towards the center of the city that you had found on your first day alone, and you began to read there, sometimes foregoing your book to people-watch. Eventually though, watching the numerous couples walking by caused such pain in your heart that you decided that it would be better to stay inside.

You cooked dinner, much to Charlie’s chagrin, but you argued that providing a home-cooked meal was the least you could do while crashing at her place. Saturday morning, you and Charlie were chatting on the couch, both nursing a steaming mug of coffee, when there was a knock at the door. She looked at you with wide eyes, and you equally returned her surprise. She slowly got off the couch, placing her mug on the table before making her way towards the door. She reached into a vase on her way, pulling out a sharp blade made of silver. Your eyes widened. Where the hell did that come from?

She cracked the door open, holding the blade behind her back, and let out a sigh of relief. Her body blocked the door, so you couldn’t see who it was, but when she turned to look back at you, you immediately knew. Taking in a shaky breath, you nodded slowly at her, and she turned back to her guest.

“Hey Dean.”

Taglist: @akshi8278 @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @lanea-1 @slamminmine @bluedragonflylady

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x soulmate!reader #Dean Winchester x Female Reader #dean winchester x y/n #reader x dean winchester #reader x dean #y/n x dean #y/n x dean winchester #dean winchester angst #dean angst #supernatural series #supernatural #muffinbeliever

57 notes · View notes

that-gt-and-vore-stuffs · 3 years

Text

Desires and Daydreams

Me: oh yeah I’ll have this edited and out by tomorrow morning! Also Me: Ha! Sike! Time fo post at night again :)

All in all I’m so sorry this took so long for me to get out. A busy week with ball fucked me over time and energy wise. However, I now have a full 7k word fic for y’all so that’s good! I quite literally just finished editing this so I hope it’s as good as my mind told me it was about two minutes ago. Especially considering it’s a little gift of sorts for the amazing @doodlevore (AKA I saw this gem of a drawing, flipped out for a hot minute, and then decided it was writing time) Anyway, I hope y’all enjoy and I hope I did your artwork justice Doodle :)

As always, Vore under the cut :)

“Aw c’mon Doc!” the man halfheartedly whined as he attempted again to grab the small ‘medic’. Once more 2b had ducked under his hand, glaring up at him through his goggles. The taller of the two just laughed at the sight, near daggers of teeth glimmering through his toothy grin. No way in hell could he take that glare seriously like this. “You act like I was planning to hurt you. You really think I’m gonna hurt ya?”

“No,” 2b started, halting his words momentarily to dodge another attempted swipe at him. Getting caught by the man wouldn’t be the worst thing, sure - hell, he could name several things automatically worse than being grabbed by him in this hellscape of Nevada - however that did not mean that he wanted to be scooped up like some doll and put through whatever his teammate had in mind for him and the other two who were both currently busy dodging the taller’s other hand. Again his glare settled on the younger hacker. “But that does not mean I’m going to keel over and let you do whatever, Deimos. Now would you stop trying to grab us for five minutes!”

“But what’s the fun in that?” Deimos protested, swiping at Hank only for the shrunken mercenary to vault themself over his hand. Go figure, he was still going to be difficult. Hell, they all were. When he was the smallest of the group he was at their mercy and even went with it half the time, but the moment he got to have some fun they all decided to be as difficult as possible. In all honesty it wasn’t as bad as he was making it seem. Watching them run around like little mice was pretty entertaining. That didn’t mean he didn’t have plans he wanted to follow through with though! Whatever, he’d play their games for now. He’d get them eventually, and when he did he’d have his fun. “I’d stop if you all would just stand still for five seconds, but no. You all clearly wanna play so I’m gonna keep up the cat and mouse game we’ve got going.”

“But that- Deimos, you aren’t getting my point here at all!” 2b yelled up at the man, ducking under yet another swipe at him made by the youngest of their little crew. He was fairly certain it was impossible to miss what he was saying so either Deimos was less intelligent then he had grown to suspect over the years or he was flat out ignoring the man’s request to quit trying to grab them. A brief comparison of the two had crossed out the former option rather quickly. That cocky, smoking son of a gun. “Sanford! A little help?”

“Why me?” The Chad of a man yelled back as he scrambled to his feet after having to get down to avoid being grabbed. In the back of his mind he already had a sneaking suspicion as to why he was asked. He wasn’t stupid after all.

“He usually listens to you better than me!” The older hacker shot back, nearly running into Hank as he prepared himself for the next ‘attack’.

“So we’re playing that card now. Good to know.” Sanford grumbled softly, no real venom in his tone. 2b was right, at least in most contexts. He probably was the closest to Deimos out of them all and the other two’s usual intimidating approach to get Deimos to listen really wouldn’t work with them the size of the man’s hand. A sigh tugged itself from his throat as he directed his words up at the seemingly giant hacker. “Dei, c’mon now. Can’t you quit with the whole trying to grab us thing? It’s- AH!- not all that fun!”

“Damnit.” Deimos cursed under his breath, having missed Sanford yet again. Who knew trying to just grab his teammates would be so difficult. It was definitely fun, this little game of cat and mouse like in those old cartoons he’d managed to pirate, but it was still harder than he expected to actually grab them. Guess not everything gets to come easy. Or maybe he was going too easy… “Maybe not for you. Just stand still and make it easier on yourself if you’re having such a bad time.”

“That’s- Dei, you chucklehead, quit the games already and stop trying to grab us like rodents!”

Deimos just shook his head, a low laugh rumbling in his chest. His grin still stood proud on his face in all its sharp toothed glory. This was too much fun to give up so easily. Really, they expected him to quit the moment he started having fun? Please. He’d gone through too much to waste his opportunity. Getting his hands on shrinking tech had to be the best thing that’s ever happened to him, despite the difficulties and hurdles he had to jump to do such a thing. What had been a normal, boring day with no missions had turned into him watching his three shrunken teammates dash across the worn table while dodging his attempts to grab them. He was going to enjoy this, whether they liked it or not. Call this revenge for all the times he was teased for being the smallest out of all of them, or call it him being an ass. He didn’t care. For once the younger hacker wasn’t the small one in the group and boy did he have plans for it. Oh he had plans…

“Mmm…how ‘bout no.” Deimos hummed, slamming a hand down on the table next to 2b. Just as he’d hoped the man tensed, trying to keep himself steady on the shaking table. His eyes locked onto the temporarily paralyzed unofficial medic like a hawk’s to its prey, smirk morphing into a full on grin. Without hesitation he grabbed the man in a firm fist. There was one of the three. “Ha! Gotcha Doc~!”

“Mmgh- I can see that, Deimos. Now put me down!” 2BDamned didn’t shout at his teammates often. There were a few times he did, yes. Prime examples of such times included (but weren’t limited to) tracking blood all over the base, doing something absolutely reckless and facing the consequences, not following the plans they had for missions, etc. Not once had he expected to ever be yelling at one of them, specifically the smallest of their team, to put him down. Hank? Maybe. Sanford? Long shot but not impossible. Deimos? No. And yet here he was, trapped within the grasp of the younger hacker with seemingly no way to escape. It’s not like the little wiggling that his loose enough to be breathable yet tight confines could do was helping much.

“But what if I don’t wanna, Doc?” Deimos hummed, resting his other hand on the table for the first time in the past twenty-five minutes that he’d been trying to grab the others. “What if I wanna keep you trapped in my fist for the rest of the day huh? Maybe longer. It’s not like you can exactly free yourself, now can you? Huh? You gonna wiggle yourself out of my hand, 2b? Claw your way out like some baby kitten?”

“I swear to Jebus, once we’re back to normal I am going to kill you myself.” The dissenter growled, trying again to free himself from his confines. He could only imagine how utterly idiotic he looked, wiggling around like some fish out of water in Deimos’s hand. Talk about humiliating.

“Sure you will. Sure.” Deimos rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he thought through his next moves. He could just grab the other two and get on with his plans but…oh that ruined the fun of the chase! His plans and stomach could wait, he wanted to enjoy this just a little longer. Now what could he do to achieve such a thing? “And besides, that’s an ‘if’ to you, Doc. If you get back to normal. Can’t do that without my help after all, so maybe you should let me have my fun~”

“I will. Don’t think I- wait. What?” Well now that wasn’t something anyone stuck at four inches tall wanted to hear. Yes, he could probably figure out how the hell Deimos shrunk him (assuming that the hacker had gotten the information and technology from the AAHW) however Deimos had at least a bit of a point. Things would be so much easier, faster, and less dangerous if he just reversed whatever the hell he did. He….he fucking planned this. He- oh the younger hacker was in some deep shit once they were back and he was the smallest again.

“Mmm you heard me, 2b. Getting you three back requires the help of me, unless you’d rather be crushed under the boot of some agent trying to get back to normal yourselves.” Deimos hummed, his words practically swimming in cockiness. “And I don’t think any of us want that. So either you let me have my fun, or you three get to stay pocket sized until you do.”

“Deimos, don’t you even think about it.” Hank growled, eyes narrowing behind his goggles as he stepped closer to the hacker. Being this small was bad enough. It wasn’t like a MAG agent where they weren’t completely dwarfed in size. No. He was stuck the size of a fucking mouse being toyed with by their basically gigantic teammate. And to top it all off the threat of being stuck at this size now loomed over the mercenary’s head. Just fucking wonderful.

“Aw but what if I did, Hank?” The hacker asked with a raise of his eyebrow, turning his attention from the medic in his fist to the shrunken killing machine that was now glaring at him over his arm. It really was something else to see them so tiny when they usually towered over everyone. How the tables turn. “I would think this is a nice situation for you. So long as you’re hidden it’s not like the Agency could find you now. No ones gonna look for a four inch tall Hank, now are they- Hey! Sanford!”

The mentioned man’s head lifted from where he had landed on the table, 2b now laying next to him after a less than graceful ‘rescue’ from the younger hacker’s hand. His feet scrambled against the old table, attempting to gain enough traction to allow for him to stand. For a moment he looked as if he were trying to stand on ice, feet slipping out from beneath him. The doctor beside him wasn’t doing much better in the department of getting to his feet. Judging by the disappointed stare he felt burning two holes into his chest once he finally got to his feet, Hank wasn’t all that impressed with their sudden lack of coordination either. Wait, no. Hank could come later. Right now he had to deal with the giant Deimos that was currently pouting at him.

“Sorry Dei, but I’m siding with Doc here. Just put us back to normal before Hank decides to find a way to kill you at this size.” As Sanford spoke a tone far less confident then he had hoped for laced his words. Something that probably doomed him to not be listened to. Judging by the new level of cocky smeared across the hacker’s face? He was right too. Well shit. That didn’t help anything.

“Hmm…maybe but, and hear me out, I’ve got a better idea.” No one had to ask exactly what Deimos’ ‘better idea’ was. He was all too happy to demonstrate it, Hank quickly finding himself laying flat against the table with the hacker’s hand pinning him in place. The small shocked grunt from the mercenary didn’t go unnoticed by the other two, their eyes darting to their now trapped teammate. Both failed to notice the brief warning look in Hank’s eyes behind his goggles until it was too late, a warm calloused hand pinning them to the rough grain of the wood. Well, there went the idea of escape.

A sharp laugh chased away the silence that had previously filled the air. Beneath the rim of his visor two eyes simply watched as the three small forms writhed beneath his hands. Proof of the point he had been trying to prove. The point that his three shrunken teammates had wanted to be false. No way to escape now. Not unless he allowed for it, that is. A small lightbulb lit up in his head at the thought. The idea was tempting, were he to be completely honest with himself. Give his friends hope only to crush it like a spent cig under his boot once more by trapping them in a new way. Oh but then there was the option of dangling freedom just in front of them. That was an idea…and there were so many more possibilities too. In the back of his head a small voice attempted to grab Deimos’ attention. Yelling at him in every way it could think of that even thinking about doing that to his friends was wrong, even if it was playful at its roots. He shouldn’t do such a thing to them! Though, thinking logically, there was no way they wouldn’t do the same or something similar were their positions switched. Deimos knew that much, being the shortest of their gang. A soft scoff sounded from his throat, mind made up on the matter. Unfortunately for the three pinned to the table, in the end the voice of reason was all too easily ignored by the younger hacker as he adjusted to lean forward in his chair. The smell of cigarette smoke grew in strength with each hum that passed the man’s lips, the three pinned beneath his hands only able to watch as things seemed to get worse for them.

“Heh. Much better.” Deimos said with a smile, gladly ignoring the glares he was now getting from his little friends. “Now what shall I do with you-“

Ggnnnrrrr……

“-three….”

Anyone with half a mind would think that after being interrupted by your stomach you would be embarrassed and most likely apologize. The three shrunken men on the table thought that after being interrupted by his stomach Deimos would be embarrassed and probably laugh it off. Maybe even give them a chance to run without thinking. What they didn’t expect was for him to start laughing. A deep chuckle from the back of his throat too, not just an embarrassed little giggle. It was a genuine fucking laugh. First off, why the hell was he laughing? Second, what the hell did that mean for them? After a moment of thought one thing became clear. As much as they didn’t want to admit it, the three knew what the answer to the second question was long before it was even asked. Nothing good. That’s what it meant. Especially not with that dumb grin still sitting on his face. 2b, eyes locked on Deimos’ expression, had opened his mouth to attempt prying an answer out of the younger. Before a single word could leave his lips, however, his world was flipped on its head.

Literally.

For a brief second everything stopped. The warmth and pressure from the hand holding him to the table disappeared, cold washing over him and sending a shiver down his spine. That’s when a new type of pressure appeared. It was still rough and warm, the grip of a calloused hand for sure, but it was much more concentrated than just smashing him to the table. Specifically around his right ankle. His eyes couldn’t go ‘dinner plate wide’ any faster than they did the moment he felt said pressure appear. The less-than-manly scream he had heard beside him roughly half a second earlier started to make a lot more sense by the millisecond. Especially once he was dragged backwards and up, a very similar noise escaping himself. For a brief moment everything spun before his sight leveled out. What he didn’t want to see was Deimos grinning at him. Upside down.

“Annnd there we go. Sanford, Hank, I hope you guys still have a good grip at this size~.” The hacker jabbed, grinning at the little chain his friends had formed once he started picking them up. Pinched between his thumb, pointer, and middle finger was Hank’s torso. They were currently holding onto Sanford’s ankle, looking less than pleased with the situation they were in. Sanford was gripping onto the ankle of 2BDamned as he dangled, worry painting over his features. Then there was 2b, dangling at the end of the chain upside down with a look quite similar to Hank’s plastered on his face. All in all, quite the interesting little chain they made up as he leaned back in the chair.

“Damn straight. You two drop me and you’re dead.” The ‘medic’ grumbled, all too willing to make his displeasure known.

“Aw, don’t you worry, Doc. If they drop you I’ll make sure you have a nice, soft, warm landing~”

“Well I’m sorry I don’t want to be dropped on my hea- Deimos, what the genuine fuck does that mean?” He shouldn’t have asked. The moment after the words left his mouth 2b knew he never should have asked what the younger hacker had meant with his words. Dangling over the man’s lap having to stare him in the face while upside down wasn’t ideal. Absolutely not. However, he found much preferred it to dangling inches above Deimos’ open jaws, the smell of cigarette smoke laced breath hitting him almost as hard as the realization of just how sharp the man’s teeth were. He supposed he never noticed with Dei a. rarely ever purposely showing them off, and b. him being smaller than the older hacker. That didn’t stop him from mentally smacking himself upside the head for not taking more notes of it sooner though. Especially when he was getting so…up close and personal with them now. Fuck he was close to those daggers.

“Dei- Dei, think about this!” Sanford shouted as he stared down at the sight of the man’s open mouth, praying that his friend would listen to at least some reason. Sure, they gave him shit for being the smallest of the group often. He especially did. Not once though had he, or the other two as far as he knew, expected that said teasing would lead to them possibly having to spend the day trapped in said hacker’s gut though. If they had, they would have backed off a little. But now the threat was more present than ever. And knowing Deimos? It might be longer than a day too. He wouldn’t put it past the man at all. Jebus Christ….

“Oh I have San. We’re past that point now.” Deimos hummed, his tongue lazily snaking itself over his lips as he glanced over the string of teammates that dangled from his hand. Slowly his stare became distant, his mind beginning to wander. Just how would each of them taste exactly? Would they all taste the same? But what if they each tasted different? Now wouldn’t that be something. Perhaps he wasn’t too far off picturing Sanford as a juicy sausage in his little moments to himself. Oh that would be perfect. The warm feeling of drool trailed itself lazily down his chin, each thought regarding the possible tastes of his friends encouraging an empty rumble from his midsection. He just had to find out now.

“Deimos, lower me any further and I’ll make sure you choke to death.” The man only laughed, eyes fluttering shut as he opened his mouth once more.

“Sorry Doc. ‘S too late to stop now.” Any screams of protest from his teammates fell on deaf ears as Deimos lowered the end of the little chain into his mouth. Immediately he was hit with the taste of black coffee, hints of iron, and oddly enough what tasted like whisky poking through and tickling his tongue. The soft, pleased hum escaped him long before he could even think to stop it, his mind far more focused on getting that flavor to coat his tastebuds than his actions or the saliva steadily dripping down his chin.

2BDamned had a different opinion on the matter. Specifically about the claim that it was ‘too late.’ It was not too fucking late. In fact, it was anything but. Deimos’s mouth, which absolutely reeked of cigarettes might he add, was still wide open. He wasn’t slipping down the tight tube he could see in front of him yet. He was being rolled around and licked over like some sort of candy, something which he apparently had to remind Deimos he wasn’t with a smack to the tongue. Sharp teeth surrounded the unofficial doctor on both sides, Sanford’s grip on his ankle still like iron despite the saliva now thoroughly coating his body. Try as he might to push himself out with his hands they only slipped and slid across the wet surface of Deimos’s tongue. Far too similar to how he was steadily slipping backwards.

“Dei…Dei, you can pull us out now…” Sanford yelled up to the man, ducking his head between his arms to avoid the feeling of daggers dragging down his head and neck. Jebus, his teeth really were sharper up close. The white knuckled grip he held on 2b’s ankle refused to budge as he slipped further in, eyes locked into the sight before him. Not once did he ever expect to watch the older hacker slowly disappear down his best friend’s throat with nothing he could do but hold on and pray. Yet here he was. Fuck. “Dei-!!”

“Sanford, don’t even bother at this point.” 2b groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose through his mask. Deimos wasn’t going to listen to shit. That much was clear now if it wasn’t an hour and a half ago when they’d woken up in his hands. He didn’t want to admit it, not by a long shot, however as he slid further back there wasn’t any way the dissenter could convince himself otherwise. He, and the other two, were doomed. “He’s not going to-“

Ulp~

“…..listen. God damnit.” What else was he to even expect at this point?

Try as hard as he might, Sanford found he couldn’t grip the unofficial doctor’s ankle any tighter. Not without the possibility of breaking something, considering that he most likely had already passed the ‘try not to bruise the man’ stage. No doubt the clearly handprint shaped black and blue bruise would be there in a day tops. A scolding was nearly cemented in his future now, however Sanford couldn’t find it in himself to complain about it. Compared to the hole Deimos was digging himself, with a smile on his face no less, he’d gladly take the talking to. Speaking of the hacker, either he was genuinely out of it for some reason or he was just trying to be a grade A dick.

“Deimos!! Cut it out, man!” He yelled, trying his hardest to squirm away from the licks and shifting of the man’s tongue. Unfortunately for him, nothing seemed to work. It started at his hands but all too quickly the sensation of a wet tongue dragging itself up, over, and around the pyromaniac’s arms and to his torso. The dark lenses of his signature glasses fogged over with each warm breath that washed over his body. Goosebumps dotted all exposed skin, any fabric quickly becoming drenched with saliva. The sensations slowly crawled their way down Sanford’s body, more of him no longer dangling and instead slipping across the hacker’s tongue by the moment. He watched his hands, and by extension Doc’s feet, slowly slip beyond his vision into the void-like entrance of Deimos’ throat. His arms followed not long after, the darkness enveloping more of his vision by the second. Talk about a way to spend your day.

Glk~

A soft groan rumbled around the shrunken men, the sound’s maker all too lost in his thoughts. Tastes of warm sausage, coffee, and the lingering hints of whisky and iron danced across his tongue. Each lick up the parts of Sanford’s body which remained momentarily in his mouth brought a shiver up through his spine. With each second the small body inched further back, pulling his hand toward his mouth. His fingers and the body pinned between them slipped past the hacker’s lips with ease. Layers of cloth, along with the occasional sensation of scarred skin, pressed against his tongue. The taste of a rare steak and a much stronger metallic hint, again not unlike that of blood but somehow much more pleasant, seemed all too eager to attack his taste buds. His spine seemed to reduce itself to jello in a matter of seconds, relying on the backrest of his chair for support. The smoker pulled his fingers from his mouth with a small pop, jaws shutting around his final shrunken teammate and leaving his mind to ponder over the tastes and sensation attacking his mouth and mind alike.

The word ‘still’ had been completely wiped from Deimos’s dictionary, if it had even been there to begin with. At least that’s what Hank would have told anyone who asked. His eyes had narrowed behind his red tinted goggles and now they seemed to grow thinner with each movement from the muscle beneath him. As if the heat and lingering cigarette smell from the hacker’s breath weren’t enough, the wet feeling of saliva continued to sneak itself into every fiber of his being. First his skin, then lighter clothing items like his bandana and mask, and finally seeping through his coat and multiple other layers of clothing. And just what was a better cherry on top then being rolled around near constantly. Every moment they seemed to find themself in a new position within the confines of the young hacker’s mouth. While their grip remained on Sanford’s ankles, the same could in no way be said for his patience with the man who had caused this hell by shrinking them. He swore, Deimos better enjoy his time being able to hold them like dolls because the moment they were back to normal the man would be getting a firm taste of his own medicine. Whether it be by him serving as lunch or by another form of revenge was yet to be decided. Hank could only plot so much, though. Despite how much more bearable he found thinking about a way to ‘return the favor’ to Deimos to be, he needed to at least show a little of his own irritation to the man. After all, he wasn’t just some snack. They were still Hank J. Wimbledon god damn it, and they’d prove it if they had to. How he would do that remained a mystery for what felt like hours of constant licking and flipping…until said proof came. It came in the form of a kick to the inside of Deimos’ teeth. A kick which sent him sliding backwards-

Ulk-

Glp~

And the oddly shaped lump in Deimos’ throat disappearing behind his collarbone.

Deimos’ eyes had widened in shock, a hand quickly pressing itself to his throat as it happened. In his opinion, it happened too quickly. All too fast the warm weight disappeared from his mouth, pushing itself backwards with force into his throat. Far too soon did he lose the previously vivid taste of barely cooked meat and metal, leaving him with only the memory and lingering fragments of it like the other two tastes. Too quickly had the lump in his throat been pushed down by two final swallows, disappearing down behind his collarbone. For a moment he sat there in silence, the room lacking sound except for his heavy breathing. With each rise and fall of his chest he waited. Waited for the one thing that couldn’t seem to come fast enough. Moments passed with nothing before the feeling he’d been waiting for rushed his senses. A filling warmth pooled itself in his stomach, moving around against the walls of the organ and pulling a warm chuckle from the man. His hand trailed to rest over his stomach, feeling the small bodies shift and fight beneath layers of clothing, muscle, and skin. Fangs glimmering in a grin once again as he poked at the squirming fullness in his gut.

“Well look at that.” He laughed to himself, relaxing back into his chair. His stomach gurgled under his hand, what he guessed to be a thank you of sorts now that he had what he wanted within it. Though something told him the others wouldn’t be thanking him all that much. “How are you three holding up in there?”

“Deimos, do not laugh at us or so help me Jebus- Hank, get your arm out of my face!” The words were quickly followed by what Deimos could assume was 2b pushing Hank off him and into his stomach wall from what he could feel. Those three couldn’t seem to stay still. Well, he couldn’t truly blame them if he wanted to. It had to be slippery, trapped in a wet, moving organ like his stomach and all. The mental image of his three teammates slipping around in his stomach, trying their hardest to gain footing or at least a comfortable position, drew another laugh from him. This was great.

“Dei, c’mon.” Sanford added, giving his own kick to the wall in case he had failed to grab the hacker’s attention before. Try as he might to stay out of 2BDamned and Hank’s little squabble fate seemed to have other plans as he was shoved back into them every time he got away. Or maybe that was just Deimos being Deimos. “You’ve had your fun, now spit us out you chucklehead.”

“Mmm yeah no.” Deimos hummed, drumming his fingers mindlessly on his belly as he took in the little shocks that each harsh kick or punch sent through his body to his brain. Each movement registered in his brain as a pleasurable little shock, but the harsher they were the more enjoyment they seemed to cause him. Not that he was complaining. Last he checked his teammates could tire themselves out with squirming all they wanted to if it felt this nice. “See, that’s not really the plan here. Not for a few hours at least.”

“What now?” Sanford’s voice had dropped its hopeful tone, now more monotonous and serious. Beside him he heard a growl, one he assumed to be from Hank. Was the smoker trying to get them killed? Again he punched the wall. “Dei, quit joking.”

“I ain’t joking, ‘Ford.” The young hacker replied bluntly, his shit eating grin more than audible in his words. A long, over dramatic sigh made its way from his mouth with ease as he adjusted his position to one more comfortable. Or at least as comfortable as one could get in an old chair. Smiling to himself he gave his stomach a little shove, feeling the three bodies inside shift and move under the pressure. “I just wanna sit and enjoy this for a while. It feels too nice to just give up.”

Silence fell upon the three currently held within the confines of the man’s stomach, each sitting there taking in Deimos’ words until the pressure from outside had lifted. Once it did, they all reacted their own way. Hank, for example, sat still for about ten seconds tops before a punch was thrown at the wall. Sanford, on the other hand, debated whether Hank’s approach or his attempts at reasoning with their ‘captor’ would be more effective at getting Deimos to spit them up. Then there was 2BDamned, who sat in what would’ve been an unnerving silence had they not known him. Knowing him, though, changed the meaning of the silence from ‘is this man insane to be so calm?’ to ‘Deimos just dug himself a grave’ in a split second.

“Deimos,” The unofficial medic started, “you have ten seconds to at least start spitting us up or I will force myself back up your throat simply to beat your ass.” Despite the warmth of their current confines, a chill shot up Sanford’s back. As far as he knew, the last thing you wanted to be was at the end of Doc’s threats. The man often had little to no issue going through with them, and Deimos wasn’t some special case. The laughter they heard (and felt shaking their ‘cell’ for that matter) was all it took to solidify that Deimos didn’t take them seriously at this size. Guess said threats don’t work when you’re four inches tall at best and your ‘captor’ is a smug ass bastard.

“Ha! I’d like to see you try, Doc.” Deimos chuckled, giving his stomach a firm pat which only seemed to serve to jostle around its captives more. “I might not be able to handle spice like San’ but I do know my way around feisty snacks~.”

“We aren’t food, Deimos.” Hank growled, kicking the floor beneath him. The flesh sunk under his boot, a sickening squishing sound heard as a result. A small shiver trembled up the walls, one which failed to register with the black-clad mercenary as in pain. Oh just wonderful. The sharp toothed asshole was enjoying this.

“Mmm you sure, big guy? Cause you seem like food to me right now.” Within only a few seconds of the words leaving his lips the hacker found himself met with a pleasant shockwave up the spine. Clearly a certain black-clad mercenary didn't like being called food, if the fighting he felt wash over him like a tsunami of warm, fuzzy electricity meant anything. A soft groan crawled out of his lips, his hand lazily tracing circles over his stomach. ”mm oh c-calm down in there. I didn’t mean it. I will let you out, Jeez.”

“Deimos, this isn’t funny. Spit us out.” 2b snapped, kicking the floor.

“Mmm sorry, Doc. Can't hear you heheh…” the hacker spoke, words blurring softly as he melted back into the chair.

“I’m serious!” The words fell on deaf ears.

“Dei, c’mon…” Sanford this time. His eyes drifted softly shut.

“Dei…” His grin turned into a simple smirk.

“Dei…” Didn't he get he wasn’t spitting them out yet?

“Deimos…” Oh full names now. How fancy.

“Deimos..?” Wait…that didn’t sound right.

“Deimos.” Was he losing it?

…

“DEIMOS!”

The hacker jumped, blinking rapidly as his eyes darted around. What was going on? Where were they? Who did he need to kill? Where were the others? Thoughts rushed through his head as wide eyes darted around everything in sight, looking for something they recognized. Anything to show him where he was or what was going on. Relief came to him in the form of Sanford standing in front of him, a hand on his shoulder as if he was trying to get his attention. Most importantly though they were in their base. Safe. No one was here. They weren’t under attack. He was just daydreaming. Sanford and the others were here and he was just…daydreaming- oh damn it. Go figure it was too good to be true. A groan, this time annoyed, rang from Deimos’ throat.

“Jebus- Dude, are you alright?” Sanford asked, eyebrows knit with worry and…an emotion Deimos found himself unable to name. Like he’d seen something. Something…weird. Almost like concern but not at the same time. For a brief moment an idea reared its head, only to be smashed down like a weird game of whack-a-mole within the hacker’s mind. There wasn’t any need for such an absurd idea. It’s not like Sanford could have seen his little daydream. Nope, that was safe in his head. The smoker shook his head to clear it, quickly flashing Sanford a sharp toothed grin.

“Yeah man. Just zonin’ out and daydreaming a little ‘s all. Nothing to worry about here heheh,” he laughed, clapping his friend on the shoulder playfully. His eyes scanned the man’s face again, trying to see if his statement had done its job. Although the worry had dropped from Sanford’s face, the other emotion remained. Now what on earth was that for?

“Daydreamin’ huh? ‘Bout what?” The pyromaniac asked, raising an eyebrow. His eyes flicked from Deimos’ eyes to his mouth, then back again as he spoke. He didn’t seem to not believe Deimos when he said he was daydreaming, so what on earth was that look for? And why was he looking at his mouth so much? Giving into the call of curiosity the sharp-toothed hacker brought a hand up to his mouth, eyes widening mouth momentarily when his fingers found a trail of saliva dripping from his lips to his chin. He’d been drooling. Whoops.

“Eh. Nothing out of the ordinary.” Deimos lied, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand which he then wiped on his pant leg. So that’s what Sanford had been looking at. Oh he must’ve looked downright stupid too. Well now wasn’t that just great? He just had to hope the Chad hadn’t decided to take a photo.

“Honestly I don’t even remember what it was about.” Liar, he remembered all of it. The vivid tastes, the squirmy fullness, the thrill-

Grrrnnnggg…

Ah shit. Busted by his own stomach. For a second the hacker sat there stunned, blinking dumbly as his cheeks heated up with a pink tint. Ok just play it cool Deimos. “….though if I had to make a guess? Food heh.”

“Yeah, that would make sense heh.” Sanford laughed softly, playfully jabbing the smaller man in the stomach. He seemed to buy Deimos’s story, bringing a sense of relief to the hacker. At least he wasn’t going to press on it. “Your stomach was anything but quiet, you know.”

“Go figure. And when I can’t say anything about it too.” Quickly laughter had found itself spilling from Deimos’ mouth, his mind having calmed down when he had heard the sound from the other man. He seemed less concerned, or whatever that emotion he couldn’t name right now was. As another grumble shook through his middle the hacker lowered a hand to rest over his stomach. He got it already. He was upset the daydream of his wasn’t real after all too. Not much more he could do besides try and find something to eat now though. “Say, I’m gonna go try and snag something to shut my gut up. Wanna come?”

“Nah, I’ll pass this time.” Sanford spoke with a small shake of the head and a smile. Try as he might to play it off as friendly, it seemed that odd emotion that Deimos couldn’t name was just bound to show itself in his words. “You just go shut that thing up before the Agency uses it to track us.”

“Oh ha ha. I’m going.” Deimos laughed, giving Sanford one last playful punch to the shoulder before running off. He had food to track down somewhere in this hellscape of Nevada, unless he wanted a beating from Doc that was. He just needed something small or, hell, even temporary if he happened to come across a shrunken grunt or agent. They would work out just fine so long as he didn’t let the others find out what he’d used to shut his stomach up. Couldn’t give away anything that could relate to his little hidden desires. The emptiness in his gut wasn’t something he’d wanted back, but alas, a daydream is only a daydream and he wasn’t getting any fuller just walking around. Now where would his best chance to snag someon- something be…

…

Sanford watched as his friend ran off, smile slowly fading as Dei disappeared from his line of sight. That look of caution slipped back onto his face as he slowly turned his back to head to his room. He needed a moment to think about what he’d just seen. Try as he might, he couldn’t just forget what was now burned into his mind. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what the younger hacker had been daydreaming about if you had seen him while he was in the zoned out trance of his. Mouth wide open and drooling with a hand pretending to dangle something above it, an active stomach topping it all off like some sorta weird cherry on the sundae of his best friend’s little fantasy. Oh no, he knew what that meant. And hearing him mumble the names of their other teammates, along with his own, at least once through it all? It spelled out the man’s daydream in big neon lights. The very thought sent a shiver down his spine, despite how he tried his best to shake it off.

He wanted to believe it when he tried to tell himself that Deimos wouldn’t ever shrink them, much less try to eat them. He really did. All that he’d seen along with logic itself, however, pointed him at it with the firm proof that his words were lies. The man would no doubt take advantage of it, if he ever found a way to shrink them, even if he were to keep them as safe as possible. Just as he had with any unfortunate shrunken agents or grunts he happened upon when he was alone (or at least when he thought he was) Safe or not safe, the fact of the matter still stood. Sanford did not want to spend however long within the confines of his friend’s gut, especially if he wasn’t alone. Being in there had to be bad enough. Him not being able to do anything about it either only made the situation worse. Reasoning with the hacker was most likely hopeless and he wasn’t about to beg. What was left? Pray? God, if Deimos ever managed to get his hands on the Agency’s shrinking technology then one thing was downright certain. Boy were he, Hank, and 2b doomed…

#soft vore #mawedness combat #it took me long enough #but it’s finally done #i have so many ideas for fics based on drawings by a handful of artists #this one though…this one made me go for it and write it #congrats doodle #you and your art shot me with my own inspiration Gun #and I’ve just gotta say amazing work again #you were one of the main three/four who inspired me to write M4dc0m #anyway #I hope you enjoy the fic you caused :)

64 notes · View notes

mrskurono · 3 years

Text

REPOST FROM MY NON WRITING BLOG title: breakdown of break through || Kageyama Tobio x fem!Reader a/n: again, a repost from my real old blog I just got tired of going back onto it to find this when I wanna comfort binge it. So I’m just posting it here for easy access for myself word count: 3k tags: fluff, friends to lovers ish trope, timeskip!Kageyama, adults enjoying two (2) beers with a meal, unedited character(s): Kageyama Tobio (hq) synopsis: Tobio arranged for you to come pick him up when he came back for a visit. His plane was early. You were on time. Suddenly you’re eating a meal with his family like your back in high school all over again. This time though he finds the words he couldn’t before.

Through break down or black out that name lit up on your phone like none other.

Tobio.

Now though you were getting a slough of texts. Phone humming in your hand. Giving you no time to look at the messages and look for the black haired man in the crowded airport. Once more you glanced up at the gate number knowing it was the right one he told you. Where was he then?

Fed up finally you skip past all the texts just to call him. Only a single ring on the other end and you spoke before he had a chance, "Where are you?"

"What?"

"Where are you?" You repeat into the phone a little sharper than intended, "I'm at the gate I thought you were going to get off?"

"I'm already off, I'm at my place I thought-"

"Oh my god when did you land then?!" Huffing you were about to hang up and find the incriminating texts that said when his flight got in. Of course you didn't because Tobio stopped you.

"I told you when I left things were early so I'd be landing about two hours before and we didn't have a layover." Tobio's voice pauses on the other end as you groan loudly into the phone speaker to let him know how displeased you were. "Wait, where are you?"

"I'm at the terminal you idiot!" With little care for anyone looking at you like the mad woman screaming into your phone that you were, "Where are you already?!"

"My place I told you! Are you going to come over or not?!"

"W-What?" You stop a second like you didn't hear him, "What?"

"I said are you coming over? I thought we were going to hang out."

Not what was agreed on. In fact you intended to pick him up and the idea of hang out was maybe you'd grab a bite to eat then that be it. You hadn't seen one another in, oh well, it had to be two almost three years now. Sure you texted each other almost every day. With regular facetime happening weekly. The idea of seeing each other face to face though. It left your stomach tight and a bundle of nerves a little less than understandable. He was a big shot volleyball player now. Being friends with a celebrity felt weirder to you than you cared to admit. You thought if maybe just a lunch and then he could go see the guys things would be alright. Instead now he was asking you to come hang out at his place all of a sudden.

"What?" You echo yourself for a third time like he asked.

"I told you to come over! I thought that's what we were gonna do!"

You swallow the lump in your throat as you grip your phone tighter, "Wait- What about the others and Shoyo I just thought-"

"Just come over already."

Undeniable click on the other end when he hung up. No second to dispute it in the moment. You wanted to hang out. You really did. But something ate you. Nerves. Maybe this was a bad idea. What you had going was perfect and seeing each other for the first time in years seemed like you were going to ruin something. Unsure what there was to ruin. You two were friends. This white knuckled grip on your phone seemed silly. But why wasn't it going away?

Shaking the nerves out like you could simply whisk them away. You pocketed your phone ready to still yell at him for mixing up such a simple schedule and making you go to the airport like an idiot.

Last time you recalled being at Tobio's place was for a going away party. Of course his own because his mother threw it and all of the volleyball team and tagalongs were included. It was fun last time, with everyone that is. Yachi and Kiyoko to be with, you really enjoyed yourself the last time you were here. But now you wondered if you could have just as much fun without all your friends around to buffer you.

One might mock the twenty something year old for keeping his stuff at home. Repeatedly Tobio asked why would he move when most his time was spent in Germany. He came home to see family and friends anyways. Keeping his things there only made more sense.

Finding yourself wrapping your knuckles on the Kageyama's door after you finally made it to where he was and not the airport. It took but one wrap to be greeted by the setter in a heartbeat.

"Tobio!" Your eyes widen, having to actually tip your head back to look at him. Was he this tall last time you saw him, "Your- Where is-"

"My mom's out with my sister. You missed that cry fest already," His blue eyes roll to the back of his head only for a second. Followed by a cheeky smile. An actual smile crossing his lips as he looks down at you for a moment. Perhaps realizing he really was looking down at you, "It's uh..."

"Been a while?" You feel the tips of your ears getting warm.

This was stupid. Utterly insane.

You saw him almost every week on the screen of your phone. Why was this so much different? Why couldn't there be someone else here to buffer this for you.

"Two and a half years since you came and saw me in Germany," Tobio palmed the back of his head with that crooked smile on his face wearing a hole in your heart.

You look him up and down, still in athletic gear like it was all he owned. Actually that was probably true. He was shit at figuring what to wear so Tobio just opted for brand loyalty of anyone who gave him free stuff. Those athletic shorts a testament to that fact considering you at least tried to wear something nice and clean to pick him up at the airport he decided to leave from.

"What the hell is with you not telling me you left early!?" Snapped back to the indignance you felt at the airport and the drive over, you cross your arms with a peeved look.

"That's not true!" He dug into his pocket for his phone. Quick to shove it in your face of your text conversation last night. Tobio pointing out the text he explained poorly as an early flight. You couldn't focus in the seconds following when the fresh scent of his familiar deodorant hit you.

It'd been so long. You'd forgotten how much you loved the way he smelled even when you were in school together. To think it still made your chest as tight as it did back when you were teenagers. Almost enough to make you not notice your name in his phone.

There, tacked onto the end your name was a heart. A double take in order. That was until Tobio realized you weren't looking at his text. And right away he yanked his phone away from your view. Cheeks dusted with red as he fidgeted and tried to push his hair back off his face to no avail. Absorbed too much in his phone you hadn't realized his hair was wet as well. Explaining why you could smell his familiar deodorant so easily. He'd obviously taken a shower.

"You took a shower like I haven't seen drenched in sweat?" You break the forming ice between the two of you in an attempt to not let it get any worse. Even if your ears feel as hot as the sun. Your attempt seems to ease something between the two of you and Tobio let a bit of a smile soften on his features.

"You gonna stand out there like an idiot?" He looked at you point blank.

"You gonna ask me to come in like a decent host?" You shoot back.

Maybe you didn't need the buffer of everyone else to hang out with your friend.

Explaining his mom and sister had gone to go get things for dinner as well as pick his grandma up. The offer to stay for a home cooked meal was extended to you quickly. Apprehensive to accept seeing as things were going well now but maybe not so much later. You didn't want to overstay your welcome. Tobio really wasn't going to take no for an answer. Even repeating that dinner was going to be served and it was one of your favorite concoctions Mrs. Kageyama made. Unsure of the last time you had a home cooked meal like that. You begrudgingly accept because your stomach really did speak up for you.

First met with the fear of how long you and Tobio might be alone together. It thankfully wasn't enough time for you to stick your foot in your mouth. Both his sister and mom showed up with grandma Kageyama in tow. All three women more than excited to see you since it'd been a few months since you stopped by. Tobio's mom showering you in affection as her 'good' child seeing as you came to visit far more than her son. A cranky Tobio argued that he lived all the way in Germany there was just no 'coming over' to visit. He hardly won that argument.

Much like the times in high school when you came over. Mrs. Kageyama asked if you would help with dinner. Extending an extra set of hands to meal prep meant you did find a bit of a buffer from being left alone with Tobio for too long. Ironically though instead of spending his time on his phone or something capturing his attention on the tv. Tobio was in the kitchen with the rest of the family helping with what little prep there was to spare between the four of you.

He really was shit at cooking but it was cute to watch the world renowned setter get scolded by his mom even at this age. Each time you giggled he'd shoot you a glare that only lasted a few seconds. Unable to hold it as his cheeks would gain a dusting of pink and he'd just huff and go back to doing it better like his mom told him to.

This felt good. This felt like home. It had been a while since you felt like this.

"And dinner is done!" Mrs. Kageyama was happy to announce the mini feast. More than you ever thought was needed for a dinner. You suspected maybe her son being home had something to do with it. Though with how much she made you expected some more visitors. That was dashed though when you realized he still ate like a horse. Snickering you won't deny Mrs. Kageyama knew what she was doing in the kitchen. Everything you eat feels like a warm hug. And that wasn't just the beer you had with dinner speaking for you. This really felt amazing.

"Hey," Tobio stood above you once he'd clear the table after his mom and sister said they'd be back after dropping grandma Kageyama off, "You want another?"

A second you realize he's looking down at the empty beer in front of you, "Um-"

"I was gonna have another anyways," Tobio gives you an answer before you can have a chance.

Matching cans he brings you one but mentions he's going to go sit outside for a bit. Wondering if you'd like to come with. Stuffed with dinner you were pretty sure you could move if you forced yourself to. So you find yourself trailing him to the back patio ever so familiar to you.

Outside looks so much different than you remember. No more volleyball net. The sets of poles gone. No random volleyballs left out or scattered everywhere. You'd seen this yard a million times since graduation but for some reason it felt weird sitting out there with the volleyball fanatic himself and not a single volleyball in his grasp.

The crack of his beer reminds you of the one in your grasp. Following suit you open your own and take a sip before setting it on the table next to his. Alone together but you could do this.

"...how long you planning on staying?" Out of everything, he hadn't told you how long his little vacation was going to last this time.

"I don't know." A very unlike him answer. You turned to him just to see Tobio looking out at the yard in front of the both of you with a glazed over look.

"What about the team? Did everyone come back with you too?" Figuring everyone was on break then, Kōrai, Wakatoshi and Fukurō must have come back to visit family too since they weren't a bother in the last video call you had together.

"I don't know." Again with the vacant look. Tobio was earning a scowl from you now. He only had a single beer with dinner too so he had no excuse to be this spacy. Seconds away from getting the grumpy side of you, he turns to meet your gaze, "I took a little bit of time off."

Wow.

There hadn't been anytime off since graduations. Not any on purpose that was. Tobio had been moving forward to make sure he wasn't left behind just like the others did after graduating. Getting to where he was now was no easy feat. For him to take a break was utterly concerning.

"Did something happened? With the guys? The Schweiden team are-"

"No, it was my choice." Tobio looked at you then down to your pair of drinks, "I had something bothering me."

"Alright you know what-" Huffing you square up with him across the patio table, "What the hell? First you don't tell me when you're getting here. Then you get here hours early and don't tell me. Your mom made you re-chop the garlic twice and you didn't say anything. And you haven't mentioned harassing Shoyo over the phone one time. What's up with you?"

Blue eyes staring at you from across the table. Much like the way he stared at you the day he told you he'd be going to Germany. Unlike then the stomach lurking feeling you got from that day didn't measure up to now. Tobio's fixed expression unreadable on his familiar yet so different face. You were looking at your friend but someone entirely new in front of you all at once.

Between the time you waited for an explanation and when he moved forward. Time sped up. His lips against yours before you knew it. In a moment so fleeting that you weren't able to do anything but stare at him when he came back into your full line of sight.

The way you didn't say anything sent him into the first real glimpse of an old fumbling fool, "Oh god no! I- That wasn't- Shit wait y/n no I-"

"You-" the word bubbled in your throat all at once, "-kissed me."

His blue eyes grew huge and the setter looked down at the lips of your hardly touched beer can, "I- Wait listen ok I-"

"Again."

"What?"

"Kiss me again."

Tobio's eyes darted up from the cans. You were looking at him. The same way you did across the gym all those years ago. With such a conviction that his skin tingled with lively vibrance nothing in the world compared to. He could feel his hairs stand on end like they were saluting you. And he bit his lip once nervously expecting you to back down. When you didn't though. He knew he had to.

Slowed down from before. To take a moment to savor everything about it lost in the urgency of the first one. Tobio's lips met yours like they were old friends. Kiss as tender as you imagined. It wasn't until your hands were up cupping his face. And his fingertips grazed the skin of your cheek as he did the same. Did you really make the realization of the knot of nerves in your stomach loosening all at once.

"...I came back to see you." Tobio confessed against your lips. He found his words even though he reluctantly didn't want the kiss to end, "I couldn't focus and- I wasn't doing great at practice- Things were off I just couldn't-"

"We talk every day," You give that out like it's the same. You're a liar if anything. None of it was the same and none of it would be the same now they you had the buzz of his lips against yours, "I don't understand- We just-"

"I think I love you-" Tobio blurted.

No going back now.

Cheeks as red as the day you first kissed his knuckles after nationals. Tobio could only blink a few dozen times as it was hard enough to think of the right words when he was focused. Now his mind was leaving him at a million miles an hour and everything he'd rehearsed was for nothing in this very moment. All Tobio could think of was the hum of your lips against his. Comparing it to how he always imagined it would feel. And realizing now, it was so much better than that.

He swore he could see his reflection in your eyes. Quickly Tobio tried to recoup the plan he had made on the plane ride, "I just- Hold on ok- It's just- Ever since we were kids- I guess a long time- And being in Germany- It feels weird away- I love it but it doesn't feel completely right- I came back to see you and- I didn't mean it exactly like-"

"I love you too." The words swelled in your chest like a school girl. Here you were in your twenties confessing like a fool. Somehow it felt better than keep it all in these years. You find more to go along with just blurting that out like he did, "I mean- I think I've known for a while- A long while. This feeling, I don't know a lot of things I guess since I don't travel the world like you. Even when you were so far away I couldn't shake this-"

All over again and for only the third time in a lifetime. Tobio leaned in and kissed you. Practice making perfect with him like always. This time his hands found yours to squeeze them tight. Fingers wrapping around your palms with the warm of them taking over your hands.

Tobio was slow. He waited an entire plan ride plus almost a decade to do this. Through break downs or break throughs, your lips lit up more in him than anything your name in his contacts could ever do.

#hq!!#hq #hq x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #kageyama tobio #tobio kageyama #hq kageyama #kageyama x reader #kageyama tobio x reader #tobio kageyama x reader #hq fluff

127 notes · View notes

harrywritingsbyme · 4 years

Text

Kisses In The Rain

Anonymous Said: can you do one where it’s like their third date and its raining so bad so they end up stuck in harry’s range rover and talking til the rain calms down, and in the mean time she asks for some gum and he spits his in her mouth then they make out & gives h a blowie in the back seat?🥺

Based Off Of This Ask

A/N: This is the latest I’ve ever posted and I’m so sorry! But this one is a big ball of fluff and smut with a bad ending. Enjoy🙃

To most, being stuck in the rain is considered to be a pain in the ass and one of the worst things ever. But for you and Harry, getting stuck in the rain was a bit of a blessing in disguise.

The two of you were leaving from you guys’ third date which was absolutely amazing. Even though it was only the third date, both you and Harry were completely hooked on each other. This third date came right on the heels of you guys having two dates in the week prior to this one, and almost a month after meeting each other for the first time. There was just this connection and spark that couldn’t keep you two away. And when you and Harry were together, the both of you made sure to soak up every second of being in each others presence.

This is exactly what was happening with you two tonight.

Harry managed to secure a reservation at one of your all time favorite restaurants and you were beyond excited. Maybe a bit more than Harry. He was so excited to see you again that he changed his outfit three times before eventually settling on something. He even got to your place a bit early so that he could spend more time with you. Luckily for Harry, your excitement matched his and you weren’t at all phased by the fact that he got a front row seat to watch you run around like a chicken with your head cut off as you were trying to get ready for you guys’ date.

After kicking Harry out of your bedroom so that you could actually get dressed without any distractions (not that you at all minded him being there with you), you were finally get ready and walk out of the door with him. Luckily, the two of you were able to beat the traffic and get to the restaurant just in time to make the reservation. Once you two sat down across from each other, you and Harry were in your zone. Even though you guys had been spending a pretty good amount of time together over the past couple of weeks, now going into a month, you and Harry were still in the getting to know each other stage. So there was plenty to talk and laugh about together. So much that the two of you spent almost three hours at the restaurant during you guys’ dinner date. When the waiter brought the check over to the table and said take your time, you two really took that to heart. Instead of promptly acknowledging the bill, about twenty minutes passed before you and Harry paid any type of attention to it. The entire three hours was filled with conversation, laughs, little touches here and there, and since you two were in the more private area of the restaurant, the two of you also shared a few pecks from across the table to each other.

Even though everything was still a bit fresh for you two, both you and Harry felt very optimistic and hopeful for what was in store for the future of you guys’ relationship.

After finally settling the bill, that is after battling over who was going to actually pay it of course, the two of you finally get yourselves ready to head out. While you two were packing yourselves up to leave, you could hear some rumblings of thunder outside, signifying to you and Harry that it was time to hurry things along.

But you guys weren’t as fast as you would’ve hoped.

As if the rain realized that you and Harry were outside, it immediately began to drizzle when Harry handed the ticket over the valet. Luckily for you both (more for you since you just got your hair done), there was a bit of an awning for you both to stand under until the car came around. After waiting for a couple minuets and standing in the rain that was getting a bit harder, the car finally came around, prompting you and Harry to make a dash to the Range Rover that was awaiting you two. Once you and Harry are are safe from the rain (and the cameras that managed to find out where Harry was), Harry wastes no time pulling off from the restaurant. He wasn’t even a good ten minuets out before the real rain began to pour out of the sky. Since it was night time and it was already dark, and now add onto that the heavy rain, Harry decides to move off to the side of the street he just turned on.

“This might be a while.” Harry huffs. Once the car is parked, he undoes his seatbelt and relaxes in his seat.

“Yeah, but at least I’m stuck with you.” You hum in agreement, mirroring his actions and undoing your seatbelt. You were tying to make the situation a little bit brighter for you two. More time to spend together right?

“I couldn’t imagine being stuck with anyone else.” Harry says through the smile that was forming on his face. When he turns his head in your direction, he’s immediately welcomed with a warm and soft smile from you. As cheesy as it sounded (and Harry was so thankful that he didn’t say this out loud), even though it was just about pitch black and gloomy outside, your smile managed to brighten up and bring warmth the entire situation. That warmth managed to infiltrate his entire body, and push him to lean over the console separating you to bring his lips to yours. When his extremely plush and pillow soft lips touch his, a jolt of electricity runs through your body. It was the same electricity that would come when you two were completely alone with absolutely no eyes watching your every move. Harry could say the exact same thing. Even through you two were in his car that was parked on a random street, the rain along with the now foggy windows from the cool air that was once flowing through the car and the warm air outside created a makeshift shield from you both. And having this privacy made you and Harry want to explore each other a bit more and be close to each other in the same way as if you two were at home. After moving your lips against each others for a little while longer, you decide to make the first move and pull away.

“Can we cuddle in the back seat? This thing is kind of in our way.” You ask, motioning your head down towards the console between you and Harry.

“Only if it means that I get to kiss you some more.” Harry bargains, pushing his lips back against yours for another peck. He couldn’t lie that he was completely addicted to kissing you. So addicted that he was dying to not only kiss your lips, but the rest of your body.

“Are you trying to have a backseat make out session with me Styles?” You tease him, bringing the hand that had made it’s way up to his shoulder, further up to his cheek to give him a little squeeze.

“Only if you want it to be a backseat make out session.” He continues.

“Well I’ll make sure to leave my shoes up here when I crawl back there. I know you’re crazy about your cars.” You reply to him, pulling yourself completely away so that you could undo your shoes. Once your shoes are off, you recline the seat a bit and strategize on how exactly you were going to get back there. “Now I’m gonna crawl back there. I don’t want you to be a little perv and look up my skirt while I do it.” You tease, wagging your finger in his direction with a “serious” look on your face before moving to crawl into the back seat. Even though you told him not to sneak a look at the treats underneath your skirt, Harry couldn’t help himself. Even though it was a short time frame, he still got to get a little peak at the situation going on under your dress. He thoroughly enjoyed the sight and hoped that he would be able to venture out and explore down there a bit more.

Once you’re back there and your seat is up, it’s Harry’s turn to make his way back there to join you. He follows suit with what you did and takes his shoes off before reclining and eventually crawling back there with you. Since he’s significantly taller than you, his journey to the backseat wasn’t as graceful as yours but he got the job done and was right beside you in the pretty spacious backseat. Once the two of you were comfortable back there, you and Harry pick up right where you two left off in the front seat. The two of you waste no time bringing your lips back to each others. For the next ten or fifteen minuets, neither of you bother to even try your hands at coming up for air. The both of your are completely engrossed in each other. Neither you or Harry wanted to stop sponging the soft and wet kisses to each others mouths. The way your tongues glided against one another was purely euphoric to you and Harry.

Who knew that such a simple act like kissing had the power to evoke such feelings out of someone? Or maybe it was just the simple fact that you and Harry were addicted to each other.

“Do you have another stick of gum? I feel a a little bad for making out with you right after dinner. Don’t wanna give you the dinner and wine breath.” You pant at him after abruptly pulling away.

“Yeah, I have some gum.” Harry chuckles at your statement, completely amazed at how one person could be as adorable as you are.

“Thanks!” You reply happily, moving back to give him some room to move around.

But Harry seemed to have other plans; or at least the little voice in his head did.

Without even thinking, Harry removes one of his hands from your waist and brings it up to your face. He then softly cups your jaw, forcing your mouth open. Before you could question him, his mouth is on yours and you could feel his tongue agains yours as he pushes the gum into your mouth. When he does this, your head immediately begins to spin. When he does this, you immediately wonder if he’s a mind reader. How would he know that you liked it when your partner spit into your mouth or did something like that?! You were throughly amazed and thoroughly turned on. He then lets go of your jaw and pulls away from your mouth. You were still in complete shock, trying to wrap your head around it all, and Harry was trying to figure out whether or not he grossed you out and scared you off.

“Thanks for the gum.” You shakily whisper to him. Now that you’re looking at him and thinking back to what he did, you’re immediately overcome with the strong desire to just jump his bones. So thats what you do. With the position you and Harry were in, you two sitting next to each other with your bodies turned in one another direction, you didn’t have to think much on how you were going to be closer to him. So without leaving much time in between now and the gum swap, you reach out to pull him back to you by his neck and you fall back onto the seat behind you. Your lips are frantically moving against Harry’s as his body falls on top of yours. At this point, you could’ve cared less about the dinner and wine breath if it meant that it would still give you the opportunity to have this man on you.

You didn’t even have to tell him that you were into what he did. Simply from the way you looked at him before you pulled him on top of you was enough for him. He was so glad you liked what he did because he couldn’t get the vivid images of him using his mouth to do the filthiest things to you. That includes spitting into your mouth. And now being on top of you and between your legs, those thoughts only intensified. As the kiss continued, you and Harry both were getting turned on beyond belief. After a while, your legs wrapped around his lower back, pulling him down closer to you; all of you. You could feel his growing bulge pressing up against your panties and you weren’t mad at it in the slightest. You had an idea of how big he was, which according to his mannerisms and how he moved around, you’d say pretty big. But feeling him against you was a completely different story. You were starting to think that you were underestimating his size.

As the use of tongue grew, your moans and movements against each other grew as well. It went from soft licks into each others mouths, light gasps and moans, and light, sporadic ruts against each other, to full on deep kisses with a very healthy amount of tongue, louder and deeper moans, and full on dry humping against each other. It was pretty spectacular too. The fireworks were going off in your minds and the both of you wanted to keep this momentum you had going. Then again, for the third time of the night, you pull away from Harry. You cup his cheeks and softly push his head up from yours.

“The little voice in my head is screaming at me to suck you off right now.” You bluntly whisper up to him. When you say this, his cock immediately jumps for joy in his pants. If there was one feeling that Harry was dying to feel, it’d be the feeling of your warm and wet mouth, along with your pillow soft lips, and your smaller, warm, and incredibly soft hands around his cock.

“I like to listen to that little voice sometimes.” Harry says shakily. To Harry, you were like a mystical creature. Completely unreal, unbelievable, and perfect.

“I think that me listening to the little voice involves you being on your back.” You whisper to him softly, lowering your hands down from his face and to his shoulders and unwrapping your legs from him.

“I think so too.” Harry whispers smugly before lifting himself up off of you. After moving from on top of your body and giving you some room to move around a little, Harry ends up lying on the seat with his legs spread for you to be in between them. Before you get in to playing with his cock, you move so that you’re hovering over Harry. You then bring your mouth down to his, pushing your tongue past his parted lips. You then push the gum he once gave to you, back into his mouth before pulling away completely.

“I need you to hold onto that for a little while.” You whisper to him before moving down his body and between his legs. At this rate, there was no doubt in Harry’s mind that he was going to cum after a couple minuets of having your mouth on him. He just knew it.

When your mind processes that you’re between his legs, a little bit of nervousness washes over you. You were a little nervous to see his cock and just how big he was. “Just take your time baby.” Harry reassures you, reaching down to stroke your cheek to ease the nervousness he was picking up on. You give him a small smile in return to say thank you, take a deep breath, and you then reach up to undo his pants.

As you undo his pants and everything, Harry was bursting with excitement. He was beyond ready and excited to feel you on him. He watches as your hands fumble with his pants as you undo and now pull them down his legs along with his boxers. He lifts his hips a little to help you being them down and pull them off. Once the pants are out of your way, your focus is completely redirected to his cock that was proudly standing up in his lap. You really underestimated this time. He was huge. It was a bit intimidating , but an even bigger turn on. You were pretty curious as to how you’d fit him in your mouth or inside you at all.

You decide to quit staring at his cock, and just take him into your mouth already. You come in closer between his legs and you reach out to wrap your hand around him. Your hand barely fit around his entire girth. You were definitely in for something you’d never experienced before. When your hand touches him for the first time, Harry couldn’t stop himself from jumping and gasping at the feeling. It was like your hand was made to be wrapped around his cock.

“M’sorry, your hand just feels really nice ‘round me.” Harry pants, trying to calm himself down.

Seeing his reaction to you was a definite and major confidence booster. You were confident that you would be able to pleasure him and really make him feel good. You give him a couple tugs and you bring your head down closer to his cock. You then part your lips and you take the thick crown of him into your mouth. It felt nice. It felt really good to have his warm and big cock in your mouth. As you begin to suckle on the sensitive and thick crown of him, swirling your tongue around and pressing it into his slit, you squeeze and move your hand up and down his shaft. Even though you hadn’t taken him fully yet, Harry was feeling really good. He was dying to feel more of your mouth on him.

You don’t focus on the head of him for too long because you want to feel just how full your mouth can be with his cock. So you push your head down a little bit more, taking more of his length into your mouth. When you do this you get a better idea of just how big he was. But this didn’t stop you. You continue to take more and more of him until you feel him getting closer and closer to the back of your throat. Instead of stopping, you continue on all the way down until you gag around him and the tip of your nose is touching the hairs surrounding his cock.

“Oh my- Y/n!” Harry gasps loudly. When he looks down he couldn’t believe his eyes. You have a hand squeezing his thigh as you take every last inch of his cock down your throat. After managing to hold him there for a few more seconds, you pull your mouth off of him. While you’re struggling a little to catch your breath, you don’t stop what you’re doing to his cock. You continue to tug at his now soaking wet shaft and you even test the waters of playing with his balls a little. Most of the guys you’d been with weren’t immediately receptive of this, so you were pleasantly when Harry’s moans got even louder and his hips even lifted up into your hands at the feeling.

“Feel good?” You ask him, keeping your focus on his cock.

“I usually last a lot longer, but you just feel so good.” Harry whispers timidly through a whimper.

“Just call me magic mouthed Y/n.” You hum jokingly before bringing your mouth back down onto him.

“Absolutely-“ He wanted to say absolutely not, but the way your mouth was moving against him right now definitely warranted that nickname. The way you were sloppily yet expertly touching him was extraordinary to Harry. Your mouth was perfectly warm and wet and just amazing. What you do next though sends Harry through the roof and right over the edge. You pull your mouth off of his shaft and you push his cock up towards his stomach. You then lick around his balls and you even suck them both (one at a time of course…they were pretty big too) into your mouth. Once you’ve paid some attention to his balls, you lay your tongue flat against the underside of him and you lick all the way up to his head. You bring your eyes up to lock with his and you wrap your lips back around his now beyond sensitive and leaky head. Keeping your hand on his shaft, you bring your free hand down to his balls and you give his cock in it’s entirety a squeeze. By using your mouth and both of your hands, you milk his cum right of his cock and into your mouth. “Fuck Y/n!” Harry shouts as he lets go. The tight and burning release that was bubbling in the pit of his stomach finally overtook him. He couldn’t hold it anymore, you were too good.

As he came, you kept your mouth on him. You wanted to taste his cum in your mouth. You weren’t typically a swallower, but you felt like Harry’s cum would taste better than the rest (even though you hadn’t tasted many). And you were right. It wasn’t completely horrible.

Once he was all done, you swallow the pretty large load he left in your mouth and you use your tongue to clean up any remnants of the thick substance that didn’t make it into your mouth. You then press a small kiss to the head of his now limp (but still pretty big) cock and you begin to get him redressed. You could see that you really sucked the life out of him with that release so you do your best to get his clothes back on without asking him to do much. After getting his boxers on you move on to his pants but he quickly stops you.

“Don’t worry about those, just wanna cuddle.” Harry slurs. That was what you two were supposed to be doing after all. You drop his pants and you press one final kiss to his cock through his boxers and you lift yourself up from where you were between his legs to his upper body and you lay yourself down against him. “Thank you so much. That was the best I’ve ever had.” Harry mumbles, still completely out of it.

“I’m glad I was able to make you feel good.” You hum proudly, lifting your head to press a small kiss to his chin. “Since were a bit closer to your house, can we go there instead of all the way to my place?” You ask softly. “Don’t wanna get trapped in the rain again.” You continue, trying to make a plausible or moderately decent reason for your request. Even after two make out sessions and a blowie, the rain still hadn’t let up much.

“Maybe getting stuck in the rain isn’t so bad after all .” Harry whispers optimistically.

“Maybe you’re right.” You whisper.

Masterlist

#Harry Styles #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry x reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles writing #my harry writing #concepts of h #harrywritingsbyme

796 notes · View notes

cupiiid · 3 years

Text

play preparation

this is inspired by a post from @carpenoctemdps

(to the person on my dash five seconds ago who said they don't want anymore sad content because they'll cry, sorry bro)

"Its just... what if I mess up my lines?" Neil pouted. It was the day of the play and Neil and Todd were both curled up on Todd's bed, twenty minutes until Neil had to leave, shoulders brushing with their backs against the wall.

"Neil, you've been practicing non-stop these past few weeks. You know that script forwards and backwards." Todd said, pushing the other boy's hair away from his forehead, sliding that hand down to cup Neil's frowning face.

"I know, it's just... I really don't want to mess this up, y'know?" Todd smiled reassuringly.

"You won't"

"Yeah, but how do you know that?" Todd sighed and moved so they were facing each other and cupped Neil's face with both of his hands. Neil's gaze was locked in his lap.

"Neil Perry," His eyes flickered up to Todd's, "I have been watching you practice for months now, and I can tell you that you will be excellent." Neil looked like he was about to protest but Todd didn't give him the chance. "I don't know a lot, Neil, but if there are two things I do, it's that, one, you are an amazing actor who will blow everyone in that theatre away tonight, and two, that I love you with everything I have."

Neil's eyes finally met his and they just stared for a moment before Neil placed his hands around Todd's shoulders and pressed their lips together in a slow kiss that made butterflies buzz in their stomachs just like the first time their lips met.

Eventually, they pulled away and sat there together, foreheads pressed together, breath fanning against each other's lips. "I love you too," Neil spoke softly "more than I've ever loved anyone." Todd smiled and pressed their lips together once more, trying to express his love for Neil the only way he knew how, as words could never begin to cover it.

As Neil grabbed the things he needed for the play, Todd watched from his spot on Neil's bed, sitting back on his hands. He stood up and crossed the room once Neil was ready to go. Neil smiled at him dopily and planted a kiss on his nose. "Break a leg, sweetheart. You'll be great. And remember, if you're ever feeling nervous, just look for me in the crowd." Neil have him a quick peck on the mouth.

"Thanks Todd," he grinned, "I probably have to go now, but I'll see you afterwards. I love you."

"I love you too, now go! You don't want to be late before your first performance!" He exclaimed and playfully hit Neil on the shoulder who just laughed and scurried our the door, leaving Todd in his wake, eyes trained on the door.

But that's not what happened, was it?

That cruel voice in Todd's head spoke.

No, no it was.

He replied in earnest.

You can keep telling yourself that but it doesn't make it true.

Todd opened his teary eyes in the freezing dorm room.

No. No that had to be how it happened. It had to be.

But it wasn't.

Todd sucked in a breath, knowing that voice was right. He hadn't kissed Neil before the play, he hadn't told him he believed in him he hadn't told him he loved him.

Todd sat at his desk scribbling poetry on an old notebook. Neil was packing his things for the play that night just a few feat away. "I think that's everything. Guess I'm off then, wish me luck." As Neil spoke, Todd turned around in his chair and looked longingly at the brunette who was currently too preoccupied with his crown to notice Todd's look.

"Bye," he said simply. Neil looked up and flashed him one of his classic Neil-Perry smiles. Just as his door was on the handle, Todd realised this was his chance. "Neil, wait!" The boy at the door turned immediately, looking at him in curiosity.

"Yeah?" Under the scrutiny of his gaze, Todd felt himself crumble.

"Um- good luck- for-for tonight, I mean." Neil grinned.

"Thank you, I'll see you tonight alright?"

"Yeah," Todd deflated "tonight."

And with that, he was gone. Todd cursed himself and banged his head on the desk in frustration. He was so close! He just needs to grow some balls and tell him for God's sake. As he sat at his desk, he made a promise to himself.

Tonight, he thought, tonight I'm going to tell him how I feel.

---

Todd had many regrets in life, but the biggest one was not telling Neil he loved him before it was too late. Maybe, if Neil knew just how much he loved him, he wouldn't of taken his father's gun that night. Maybe he would have. Maybe instead of telling a gravestone 'I love you' he would've gotten to tell the real person. He never stopped believing it though. He loved Neil Perry with everything inside him. Every blood cell, every hair follicle, every atom that he was made up of, it was all Neil's.

It's just too bad Neil never knew that.

#neil perry #dead poets society #todd anderson #anderperry #sorry #dps

69 notes · View notes

sariahsue · 3 years

Text

A Cat of Their Own - Ch 1

Sabine checked her phone again in anxiety. There hadn't been an akuma attack in the last two days, which meant that one would begin any second. She'd been telling herself that every few minutes since breakfast. Tom was playing video games with Marinette, hunched forward over his controller. He was supposed to be getting information out of her, but it didn't look like he was trying too hard. Sabine watched them while she stirred the soup. Steam rose off the surface in faint curls and twists.

The phone screen lit up, and she grabbed it. An emergency alert. An akuma had been spotted. Civilians were advised to shelter in place until Ladybug and Cat Noir had dealt with the problem.

It was the same message that she'd read dozens of times (and ignored more often than that), but now it made her mind numb with fear. But she had to go through with their plan.

"Oh, there's another akuma attack." Her voice sounded hollow and forced. To her dismay, Marinette immediately paused her game and turned around, eyebrows pinched with concern.

"Where is it?"

"Parc Montsouris," Sabine said. "I just got the text."

Marinette looked out the window, her face steely, game controller forgotten next to her. Tom and Sabine shared a worried glance.

"Dinner won't be ready for another half hour," Sabine said, then took a deep breath to keep her voice from shaking. This was the most important stage of the plan. "Did you finish all your homework?" Please. Please, say yes.

"Oh, uh, now that you mention it, I do remember that I forgot to do something." Marinette waved goodbye quickly, then bolted up her stairs, letting the trapdoor thump loudly behind her. Sabine came to sit next to Tom, soup completely abandoned.

"It's looking likely," he said. Sabine could only nod. Her fingers were cold, and she flexed them to try to bring life back to them, but it didn't help. Her whole body felt numb, and she wondered if she would actually go into shock.

Tom reached for the remote and switched to the news. Cat Noir flitted across the screen, fighting a giant frog monster by himself. He jumped off window ledges and rolled across the empty street to avoid a steady stream of some type of red projectile.

The camera was far away, and the angle was bad so it was difficult to tell, but he looked like a teenager himself. He was thin and lanky, like he was in the middle of a growth spurt.

"We could still be wrong," Tom said.

Nod.

Ladybug swung into view amid scattered applause. Cat Noir dodged a jet of steaming red goo that shot out of the akuma's wide mouth and shouted hello to his partner. She waved back, her cheerfulness jarring against the backdrop of the fight and Sabine's own dread.

"Do you want me to check?" Tom asked.

She couldn't even nod. The screen had her transfixed. She barely registered the shift of the sofa and the creak of the floorboards under his footsteps.

Tom reached the top of the stairs. "Marinette?" No answer. He knocked on the trapdoor, and it sounded hollow. "Marinette?"

Sabine closed her eyes as the trapdoor creaked open and Tom's footsteps disappeared into their daughter's room.

Faint screams and gasps from the television filled the room while Sabine sat and waited, holding her breath. She didn't even hear Tom come back down.

"She's not there," he said, sitting down next to her and grabbing her hand. "And the skylight's propped open."

She squeezed back tightly. "That basically confirms it," Sabine finally said. "Our daughter is Ladybug."

Tom sighed. "Yeah."

On the screen, reporters were running for shelter, hiding behind cars and in recessed doorways, Cat Noir was yelling at civilians to stay out of the way, and bright red puddles sizzled on the cracked pavement.

"What are we going to do?" Sabine asked. "How did this even happen?"

The questions she wanted to ask were why Marinette had never told them, and how could they have not noticed for so long? How was Sabine supposed to keep her own child safe?

The camera shook as the crew set up again, much farther away, but Sabine wished they could do one closeup shot of Ladybug's face. Maybe they'd made a mistake. One good look at her face, and Sabine would be able to prove herself wrong about the superheroine's identity.

The battle had looked fine up close, but from a distance it didn't look like it was going well. The super duo was on the defensive and having a hard time avoiding the frog's goo. The akuma had covered most of the available surfaces already, so they had fewer and fewer places to safely land. Ladybug hung from a lamppost. Cat Noir was just above her, perched on top of the light her yoyo was connected to.

The cameraman crept closer and closer, finally stopping when he was a mere twenty feet from the fight, and Ladybug yelled at him. Sabine squinted at the television, but the image changed too fast, focusing instead on the monster. It was a little smaller than a car. Its muscles rippled as it stalked toward the two heroes.

"We should turn this off," Tom said, though he made no move for the remote. "She's going to be fine."

"No, I need to watch."

They flinched and gasped for the next few minutes, and Sabine shrieked when Ladybug slipped and got hit in the chest. It knocked her to the ground, but she sprung back up before Cat Noir could reach her, even though he ran at top speed, ignoring the spray aimed for him and almost getting hit himself.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Fine just... Ugh! Gross!"

"You could say you're in a sticky situation," Cat Noir said, before laughing loudly at his own joke and his partner's predicament. Sabine's heart was still pounding as she clamped down on Tom's hand.

Ladybug's face tightened with the effort of holding in her laughter, then scooped a bunch of the stuff off her stomach and reached to touch him. Thick strands of it hung off her fingers.

"Oh no, not slime!" Cat Noir jumped back, dodging both Ladybug and the akuma, who shot another mouthful at them. "Slime! Whatever will I do?"

Tom pulled Sabine closer. "Well, it doesn't look like a very dangerous one."

She was sure he was trying to reassure himself as much as her, but she wasn't having any of it. "They should be taking this threat seriously," she said. "If they're overconfident..." She couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence, so it hung in the room along with her dread.

Sabine was unfortunately right to worry. The frog reared back on its hind legs and came down on the street so hard it cracked the pavement, letting out a wide stream of the goo. Ladybug, still distracted with teasing her partner, didn't react fast enough. Cat Noir did, and he jumped forward fast enough to shield her, though he got a faceful of slime. He spat it out on the ground while Sabine and Tom leaned forward in their seats, desperate to know if he was all right.

Ladybug just patted him on the back and laughed while he wiped his face with both hands.

"See?" Tom said. "See? He's fine. They're both fine."

"That thing can break pavement. What if it had landed on them?"

But the atmosphere changed as their daughter laughed with her friend. They seemed so earnest in their amusement and maybe even relaxed. The voices of the onlookers and reporters changed in response, becoming less strained. A few people laughed along with them.

The news report itself even changed. Cat Noir tried smearing the goo on a camera as a warning when it got too close, smiling the whole time, while Ladybug rolled her eyes at his antics.

Her parents watched their exchange in interest. Despite the levity they were injecting into the fight, Cat Noir was obviously still very protective of their daughter, which they were both grateful for. He pushed her out of the way of another jet of slime when she was distracted by her own Lucky Charm, and he didn't hesitate to continue fighting without her while she took a few minutes to set up a trap for the monster. They didn't miss the adoration on his face as he watched her.

Ladybug – Marinette – was protective of her partner too. When the monster got too close to him, she would yell out a warning. When it landed on top of him with another sickening crack, she dropped the trap she was crafting and leapt forward to wrench the monster off of him. To anyone else, Ladybug still looked calm and in control, but to her parents, they saw the panic that briefly flashed across her face when she realized her partner might be hurt.

That delay made the fight take a little longer than it might otherwise have been. At the end, Ladybug dashed off, hand over an earring. Cat Noir waved at her as she left, a hesitant smile on his face, then turned and comforted the frog victim, who was now nothing more than a disheveled and confused-looking man in his fifties.

"She'll be coming home soon," Tom said. "Should we go up there and wait for her?"

"Not yet," Sabine said.

The reporters were trying to get close again, no doubt to interview Cat Noir and the latest victim. The poor man looked shaken, and Cat Noir did his best to shield him from the reporters, finally picking him up and carrying him away.

"We need to talk to her about this," Tom said.

They fought against impossible odds with laughter, though they were both just children. And Cat Noir cared about their daughter so much, that was plain. How deep did that go?

"We need to talk to him too," she said.

Read Chapter Two

***

Author’s note: This is a reblogging of an old thing that I originally posted two years ago. I’ve altered it slightly. (Content-wise, nothing is different.) If you’re curious, the original can be found here.

Chapter two is almost completely done, and I think chapter three is in okay shape, so hopefully those updates will both be next week.

@tbehartoo @redhoodsdoll @salsyy301 @lunadensmidnightprowl

#ml #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #i've been saying for two years that i've been meaning to finish this story #I'M GOING TO FINISH IT

395 notes · View notes

hypfic · 3 years

Note

Valentine prompts with matenrou and mad trigger crew number 8? 👀

ok so I kinda went ham with this one??? I got a lot of MTC requests so I think I’m gonna do those in their own special post but... phew these MTR ones started as hc lists and then I got possessed by the writing gods and made drabbles.... long post incoming!!!!

Jakurai [ 神宮寺寂雷 ]: In your previous years, you hadn’t done anything notable for Valentine's Day. It wasn’t that you didn’t have anyone, moreover that you and your partner were always busy. However, this year you made an effort to plan something for you and your boyfriend. Sure, maybe it was a little much, you weren’t school children, but someone had to uphold the chocolate-making tradition, right? You begged your boss to let you have the day before and the day of Valentine’s off. It was a tough battle, but you managed to make it out with two days off under your belt! Jakurai however, wasn’t as lucky. Working in a hospital didn’t permit many days off. You got them when you got them, purely by chance if at all. He, unfortunately, had to work that morning, but you weren’t saddened in the slightest. In fact, you were grateful for his calling duties for it gave you more time to craft your surprise for that evening. You somehow managed to sneakily make chocolates the night before, and even more miraculously hide them in the fridge. You tied your hair up and ran to the kitchen as soon as you heard the door close behind Jakurai and his car pull out of the driveway. He was worried that you would be saddened by the fact that he had to work on Valentine’s, but he truly had no idea what was in store upon his return home. Jakurai picked up a bouquet of flowers on his way home that evening, hoping that even the small gesture would bring a smile to his beloved's face. You grinned as you saw your boyfriend’s car pull into the driveway that evening, checking the living room one last time for any crooked corners. On your way to the door, you dimmed the lights and let the candles take center stage, giggling at your reflection as you checked your hair in the mirror. Your eyes widened as you opened the door and were met by not only your dashing boyfriend but a bouquet of flowers as well. “Jakurai… what is this?” You blushed as he offered you the bouquet and stepped inside. “Well, it’s Valentine's day and you worked hard to get the day off and I had to go in,” He explained as he removed his coat, “I felt that I should at least do something for you,” the doctor leaned in to give you a kiss. “Why are the lights out?” “Oh! Well, it is Valentine’s Day after all!” You said with a wide smile, reaching out and taking Jakurai’s hand, pulling him towards the living room. “I took advantage of you being at work and put something together~” “Y/n… you didn’t have to,” Jakurai’s ears burned red, taking in the scene in front of him. On the living room table, you had prepared and spread out a nice dinner for the two of you, covered in candlelight. A bouquet of roses stood in a crystal vase surrounded by homemade chocolates. You walked over to the mantle and turned on the radio, soft jazz music dancing around the room. “No, I didn’t have to, but I wanted to! You do so much for me, it’s the least I could do,” You returned to your boyfriend’s side, hugging his arm. “Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.” The doctor wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you in for a kiss, “You make me so happy, y/n. Happy Valentine’s Day, I love you.”

Hifumi [ 伊弉冉一二三 ]: It didn’t take much to make you jealous. Especially with your boyfriend being one of the top hosts in Shinjuku, envy seemed to come… naturally. Hifumi always assured you that he never did anything more than share a few drinks and maybe a kiss on the cheek with any of his patrons, and you believed him, you did, but that didn’t always stop your mind from wandering. The two of you had talked through his work and what that meant for the two of you countless times, what boundaries each of you had and what you were comfortable with. The waters always became testy around Valentine’s Day. Hifumi would come home with bags full of cards, sweets, bottles of alcohol, and some other… strange things the days leading up to Valentine’s. What were you to do for that special day if every woman and man in Shinjuku had already given Hifumi gifts more luxurious than you could fathom? Your boyfriend wasn’t stupid, he could tell something was up. Moreover, Hifumi knew what this was about. He knew dating a host was hard, and it was even harder over the love-focused holiday. So, he decided that for the first time in his host life, he would call in on Valentine’s. Before heading home from his division meeting with Jakurai and Doppo, he stopped by the small jewelry shop he knew you loved. The host had placed an order earlier in the week, the store clerk was in awe that the number one host in Shinjuku would purchase such a piece. Hifumi only blushed and insisted that there was more to his life than being a host, and there was only one exclusive patron of this high rank. The jeweler wished him well as Hifumi exited the shop with a small, velvet box. When he returned home, Hifumi walked around the apartment for you. “Y/n?” He knocked on the bedroom door, pushing it open slowly. He frowned as he saw your sleeping figure huddled up in a cocoon of blankets. “Y/n, kitten, are you awake?” Hifumi placed a hand on your shoulder as he sat on the bed. “I thought you would be at work tonight…” you said, turning around and facing him. He brushed your bangs from your face and leaned down to kiss your forehead. “Well, I was supposed to but, I figured I’ve spent too many Valentine’s Days without you.” “Your boss must be cross with you,” you said as you sat up and leaned your head on his shoulder. “Meh, he can deal with it, I need to spend time with my true Valentine after all!” Hifumi’s voice quickly switched to his normal, joyful tone. “Nee, y/n, can I ask you something?” “Hmm? Sure ‘Fumi, what is it?” “I Uhm, well,” His cheeks blossomed with pink, “Well you see uh, I… You make me so happy and I wanted to get you something to show that… also uhm! I know dating a host can be hard and all so I wanted there to be something you can always have to remind you that you’re the only one for me!” Hifumi smiled brightly, reaching into his pocket for the box. “This isn’t the ideal way I planned to do this, but it was a spontaneous thought, to do it tonight. I was gonna wait and take you somewhere real fancy but…” You had tears in your eyes already, slowly realizing what was happening. “Hifumi, baby, it's ok I… are you?” Hifumi nodded and grabbed your left hand, kissing your knuckles and holding your hand by his face, “Y/n, will you marry me?” “Yes.”

Doppo [ 観音坂独歩 ]: You hummed happily in front of the stove, soft music softly bumping from your phone. It was early morning and you miraculously managed to wake up early, earlier than your boyfriend too. Today was Valentine’s Day, so the only logical solution to your blessed coincidence was to make your special someone breakfast. You were hoping that you could surprise him with the meal in bed but… you didn’t hold your hopes too high. Doppo always got up painfully early to go to work on weekdays, and just because it was the weekend didn’t mean that the routine would be broken. It was a gamble to try and prepare something to surprise him before he woke up. You glanced briefly at your phone to check the timer you had going for the bacon in the oven, smiling as it seemed that you had just about half an hour left before your tired salaryman rolled out of bed. Alas, you spoke too soon as a pair of warm arms found their way around your waist and a chin sitting on your shoulder. Doppo hummed and pressed a kiss to your cheek, “Good morning…” he yawned, not making any apparent moves to let go of your waist. “Ahh, Doppo! I was so close! You should have stayed in bed for another twenty minutes!” You pouted, craning your neck to face him. “Good morning to you too,” you allowed yourself to chuckle. “Someone’s affectionate this morning,” your chuckles turned into giggles as your boyfriend peppered kisses on your neck up to your cheeks. “Rest well?” “Mmhm,” the salaryman hummed in agreement, pausing his storm of kisses to peek over your shoulder. “What’re you making?” You shook your head and smiled, “Well, it was going to be a surprise if someone didn’t get out of bed early!” you clicked your tongue, “I wanted to make you breakfast for Valentine’s Day, surprise you with it if I could… I thought I was doing well with the time too…” Doppo chuckled and kissed the back of your neck, “Hmm, I guess I could go lay down then? Let you finish in here?” “That would be lovely, baby,” you turned around to face him in his embrace and pecked his lips. “It’ll only be about…” you paused to check the time, “ten more minutes! Don’t get too cozy in there, ok?” The man in front of you smiled softly before catching your lips in another kiss. “I’ll try my best, sunshine.” Your cheeks burned red at the pet name, even though you’d been referred to as such many times before. With Doppo now out of the kitchen, you pulled your goodies out of the oven and put a pot of tea on to boil. You continued humming to yourself as you quickly whipped together a batch of pancake mix, spooning the batter in heart shapes in the pan. Once the pancakes were done and you had everything nicely plated, you grinned excitedly as you walked up the stairs to the bedroom, trays in hand. It may not be the ideal surprise you had envisioned, but you were still thrilled. You pushed the door open with your foot and giggled as you approached the bed, noticing that your boyfriend had dozed off. “Pssst, Doppochi, I thought I told you not to get too comfy,” You placed the trays down and poked his cheek. “Mm?” he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, “Oh, sorry…” You laughed, “No, no, it’s ok, you need your rest after all! Look! I made us breakfast~” Doppo smiled wide and kissed your cheek “You make me so happy, you know that?”

144 notes · View notes

dancingthesambaa · 3 years

Text

The Smell of Plum Blossom Tea Ch 14

Summary: Just like a butterfly wing, a single act of kindness can change the course of the future, it certainly did for MK as a black furred monkey put out a hand towards him.

Rating: Teen and up

Also as a heads up, since college started back up for me I decided to change my posting to every Thursday night rather than Friday Mornings. There also might be times where I won't be able to post that week or be late due to schooling, so this is an apology in advance!!!

Chapter 14: Memories Intertwined

A clear cut path was set for the public eye as it stood between rows upon rows of Plum Blossom trees and flowers spread all around. There were quite an abundance of people along these paths as families came together for a picnic, couples went for a stroll together as they held hands, or the occasional jogger or artist that ran or drew as they wandered in. Many don’t try to venture off the path, not because of its danger, but rather in fear of getting lost in the woods.

Well except for two people, a human and a Monkey, as they stood on the outskirts of the forest.

“Well this is it, welcome to the Plum Blossom Forest,” MK said as with his arms raised high. “The most awesomest place to be.”

It took a few minutes for Wukong to respond as he took in the beautiful view, but also felt that there was something else rooted in the leaves, along the branches, and deep into the ground within the forest. It wasn’t bad, just something different. Normal trees don't usually have any types of aura on them unless they are spiritual in nature, these aren’t those types of trees. At the same time though it does, he can’t quite put his fingers on it, but it just feels like…like safety. “Yeah, it is.”

“Monkey King?”

“O-oh yeah,” he snapped out of it, “this place looks absolutely amazing.”

“It sure is, now follow me,” MK went into the forest as the Monkey King followed.

“It would probably be faster if I used my cloud instead of going through the forest, you know,” he pointed out.

“Sure, but this is your first time, so you have to experience it on foot at least for your very first experience!” He countered.

“You got me there,” he grinned, “on foot it is. So, tell me more about this place, anything interesting about it besides the abundance of trees?”

“Tons! Like this forest doesn’t just have regular animals, but it also has so many mythical creatures living here!”

“Really? What kind?”

“Well we have a few Qilins that like to roam around here.”

“Qilin, haven’t seen one of those in a hot second,” he muttered.

“They sometimes come and go, but some even make a den here,” MK continued.

The further they went in the clearer it was that MK really knew the forest as he began to excitedly tell all sorts of things to his mentor.

“So the faeries tribe get along with the Xianglu? Now that is something I didn’t think was possible, the faeries are especially a…crafty bunch,” which was Wukong's way of saying manipulative sons of bitches. He got lost in a forest for a month because of those little bastards.

“Not really surprisingly, they both like to collect shiny things so they usually like to show the other what they have found, bargained, and/or stolen,” he shrugged. “And-oh hey BaBa!” He cheerily waved to his long time friend.

Wukong just blinked as he looked at her and just nodded, “Okay, not even gonna ask how or why he managed to get a Bashe here.”

“Dad says that apparently she just came here one day and decided to stay.”

The monkey opened his mouth and promptly closed it instead to bow to her, “It’s nice to meet you.”

BaBa gave a shallow nod to him and laid her giant head back down and curled up in the sun rays.

“Come on! We’re almost there,” he grabbed the Monkey King's hand and dragged him back on track, or at least they tried to get back on track as not even twenty minutes later, MK was ambushed by a couple of macaque monkeys.

“Guys! Guys! I’ll play with you all later,” he tried to push them away, but they held a tight grip on him. “Guys! Why are-don’t you even think about it,” he snatched one by the tail, who was sneakily digging into his pockets and hanged him upside down. “Really?”

They all just grinned at him as the infants attempted once more.

“That’s-okay, no! You can’t just steal from me like that unless you have a distraction in place,” he managed to gather all four of them in his arms and put them down. “A distraction helps a lot, it will steer your target attention away from the pickpocketer and towards something else.”

The monkeys were paying very much attention to his impromptu lecture as they stared wide eyed.

Wukong, on the other hand, was holding back his laugh as he looked on in the scene with fondness and amusement as he was drawn into a familiar memory.

“I can easily steal from those people no problem, why do I have to disguise myself and sneak in?” Wukong groaned out as they made their way to the edge of the market.

“Just because they look weak doesn’t mean they are, haven’t you heard the phrase ‘Don’t judge things on how they look.’” Macaque argued back.

“No.”

“Of course you haven’t,” he rolled his eyes, “well how about this, you distract them, I’ll grab the food from the assholes.”

“Works for me!” He happily threw away his brown cloak and gave a loud screech as he dashed through the market causing a huge commotion when he ran into people.

“I didn’t mean now,” he hissed to himself as he quickly grabbed the fallen cloak, but nonetheless got to work as he stole from the fruit vendor, who cussed them both out yesterday, grabbed a few loaves of bread from the bitch who decided to stomp on Wukong tail, and took a few things here and there from customers who he recognized from other days that always sneered in disgust when they saw him.

He was just about done wrapping up, and with such a nice haul, all that was left now was to sneak around and look for Wukong, quickly tug on his shadow to bail out and make way to the forest.

Unfortunately, it didn’t work out quite like that as not even twenty paces in he heard sounds of a fight occurring as many scruffed up looking people were all going at it at each other, and guess which reckless monkey is in the middle of it all.

“Damn it Wukong,” his eye twitched as he once again contemplated about leaving his reckless ass, but begrudgingly moved his way to the front. The first, and last, time he had tried that, he got side tackled hard by the monkey and he swears the bruises haven’t left him since.

When he reached the point where he was not entirely in the front, but still had a good angle on the fight, he saw that it wasn’t just humans that were drunkenly fighting each other, but also demons…who were wielding weapons.

“Shit!” The monkey shrieked as he dodged a flaming spear to the back of the head.

Weapons that happened to be enchanted…great.

“How does he even get himself into these messes,” Macaque lowly growled as he made sure everyone's attention was focused on the fight before slipping into the shadows, something he has recently been learning when he saw something on the rooftop. There was a figure standing there and in his hands was a bow and arrow that was aimed right towards the fighting monkey.

Now this wouldn’t usually worry him, he has seen him tussle with deities for fun, but then he noticed that the arrow too was also enchanted as he heard a soft crackle and saw a shimmering blue glow as he soon released it.

“Shit!” He quickly, and he will admit a bit recklessly, dived into the shadows and straight in the middle of the brawl.

Good news, he made it to the middle of the brawl and tackled his friend out of the way. Bad news, he currently has an arrow stuck in his right shoulder that hurt worse than the time he got stabbed by the selkie.

“Fuck!” He grunted as he laid on top of Wukong and promptly winced when everyone started screaming at the arrow that came out of nowhere.

“Mac! What do you do that for-your shoulder!” He screeched as he got the monkey off of him and sat him up and saw his shoulder was currently smoking. He didn’t even look back to use his tail to throw the man about to attack them from behind as he was focused on the arrow. “What happened?!”

“We can worry about this later,” he gritted as he tried to stand up, only for his head to feel dizzy and he stumbled.

Wukong quickly grabbed him before he could fall and set him back down. He knew that he had to get the arrow out of him soon, but now was not the best time to do that as he gazed upon the people looming over them. He looked to see his friend trying to stand back up despite his injuries and was fully ready to fight back with him.

It was time to go.

The monkey stopped his black furred companion from moving, “Shall we bail?”

Macaque gave a nod as he grabbed his friend and sank him down into the shadows once more and managed to travel all the way to the outskirts of the fight. They didn’t stop there though as Macaque quickly gave Wukong his cloak back and the two began to make their way through the town, past the entrance, and back into the field with a large tree stood, which is where they agreed to meet up in case things went south, like a lot of times before.

“Well,” the injured monkey grunted as he sat down, “that could have gone a lot worse.”

“You're telling me,” the bruised simian agreed as he began to look over the arrow that was still embedded in his friend's back. “Sit still, I’m about to take this out.”

“Yeahhh, it hurts like hell,” he grumbled as he sat in place as Wukong got the arrow out and only flinched when he began to lick the wound shut. The first time he found out that this was a thing was when he pricked his hand against a thorny bush and the impulsive simian decided to put his finger in his mouth without warning. He had almost chucked the monkey for that. Soon enough it was over as the bleeding stopped and the tongue left his back.

“That should be good, though you were an idiot for getting struck in the first place,” he said.

“Me?! I was only doing that to save your stupid ass,” he indignantly said.

“I would have been fine!”

“Maybe, but I wasn’t about to take that chance with an enchanted weapon,” he shot back.

“That does explain the weird marking, wait there was another one?” He was already interested in that flaming stick that the demon used, but now there was another weapon he didn’t even see…that had struck his friend…he really wants a round two with those fuckers. “Who even were they?”

“Hopefully people we don’t have to meet anytime soon,” Mac grunted as he took the sack that he managed to quickly snag on their way back and grabbed himself a nice looking mango. “Come to papa,” he said and took a big bite.

“Bring it here,” he said and he caught the bag thrown at him and rummaged through it a bit before he found some nice looking loquat.

After that, they filled the two rested up in the tree, and dozed off in a peaceful slumber. Though the same couldn’t be said for a certain group of people as in the middle of the night they were ambushed by a cloaked figure and proceeded to get thoroughly pummeled into unconsciousness, the archer especially as his hands were broken beyond use and his bow shattered. Then the figure slipped off into the night with his hoard of coins and trinket stashed into his pocket and bounded his back to the tree where his friend laid.

No one was allowed to mess with anything that was claimed by the great Monkey King after all.

“Bye! Now use that to mess with everyone else!” He was snapped back to reality as he saw the monkeys leaving and MK waving to them. “But don’t use it on the faeries please, they tend to hold grudges!”

They got screeches of confirmation as they eventually vanished from sight and were ready to commence their new found knowledge amongst the wildlife.

“Alrighty,” his protege clapped his hands, “let’s back on track.”

“I’m just gonna assume that means we’re heading to that big tree over there,” he pointed to the enormous tree they were heading towards.

“Yup! It’s the very first Plum Blossom Tree that was grown here!” He stated as they continued onward, “and it’s where our home is.”

“You guys live in a treehouse,” Monkey King amusedly said.

“Yup!” He exclaimed as he began to climb up the tree and leap towards the house, “race ya there!”

“You're trying to challenge a monkey?” He grinned as he easily began to catch up to him. “You don’t stand a chance!”

“Home Field advantage!”

“Dream on!”

“First!” Wukong cheered as he landed on the wooden porch.

“Damnit!” MK said not even a second after, “you cheated! You pulled me down!”

“All is fair in love and races,” he cockily grins then he stilled as he felt a killer intent behind him. He swiveled around only to stop and see a smiling child behind him. “Hel-”

“MK, it’s about time you got here,” the girl playfully rolled her eyes as she wrapped her arm around him. “It took you long enough.”

“Says the one who was lazing about here waiting for us, speaking of us,” he wiggled out of his sister's arm and pointed to the monkey. “Mei meet the Monkey King!”

It could have just been Wukong, but he swore that her grin seemed to grow a little wider when their eyes met. “It’s nice to meet you Mei,” he tried to play off that weird feeling.

“Same,” she said as she stepped forward and pushed MK towards the kitchen, “it’s your turn to help pops in the kitchen.”

“Why? Can’t you do it?” He whined, he literally just finished walking here.

“I already did my part, now wash those nasty hands of yours,” she fully pushed him out the room.

“But-”

“Bye~”

“Ugh fine!,” he huffed and turned to his mentor, “You can wait in the living room with Mei! I’m pretty sure there are still some plums if you want, we have plenty of those.”

“You're telling me,” Wukong chuckled as he saw his student leave the room, so he turned back to Mei. “So how long have you-” he paused as he saw the pigtailed girl hold up a small piece of paper in front of him with words saying.

I don’t like you

“Umm,” he paused as Mei continued to smile.

“Well let me show you the living room,” she said as she went to the next card.

You may be MK mentor, the great and powerful Monkey King, and Dad old friend, and they may have both forgiven you, but I will not

“Thank you,” he managed to wrangle out as he followed Mei who began to walk forward.

“It’s no problem,” she said as they made it to the living room and held out the last card. “Just promise me to remember where it is next time monkey man.”

I know what happened and I’m keeping an eye on you, cause if you fuck up again then it won’t be pretty

Her eyes glowed a dark green as she stared down with wary golden eyes.

“I promise,” he nodded his head.

She looked at him for a few moments before walking away, passing by a trash can filled with torn up letters, and to the kitchen, but not before calling out, “I do hope you keep that in mind.”

It was only after she had left that Wukong sank down into his seat and breathed. ‘Well that wasn’t frightening at all,’ he sarcastically said to himself as he picked up a plum from the middle of the table and began to eat it. ‘I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but I expected it to be from the awkwardness, not the girl who looked like she would gladly see me twenty feet under.’

He would continue his train of thought, but then he smelled something delicious making his way to him and saw Mac walk towards him with a plate in hand.

“Hope you still like dumplings,” he said as he plopped a huge tray of dumplings, filled with various fillings, in the middle of the table.

“Hell yeah…So you learned how to cook?” He was about to reach for the chopstick but paused and waited until the other monkey sat down first.

“Kinda had to with everything and all,” he didn’t specify as he sat down on a chair adjacent to the couch Wukong was on.

“Do you know how to cook?” Wukong was momentarily surprised at MK's voice as he and Mei were actually following behind the monkey and carrying plates, cups, and a pot.

“In a way yes, thank you,” he nodded his head to Mei as she gave him a wide grin.

“Hair food does not count,” Mac deadpanned.

“Hair food?” Both teenagers looked in confusion.

“He uses his hair to make food.”

“It’s not that bad,” he tried to defend himself.

“It’s fast I’ll admit, but it’s bland as hell,” he stated.

“It’s still not that bad.”

“I’ll take your word for that,” MK said as he sat down next to his mentor and happily began to eat the dumpling.

Wukong, after seeing everyone starting to eat, began to follow suit and his eyes widened as he quickly grabbed another dumpling. “This is delicious!”

“More than your hair food,” the black simian smirk.

Wukong stuffed another dumpling in his mouth in place of answering and drank some Plum tea, only to blink in surprise. “What kind of tea is spicy?”

“Pffft,” Mac couldn’t help himself as he barked out a laugh that was quickly followed by MK giggles.

And that’s how it was for the rest of the lunch, small chatter here and there, mostly from MK as he talked about his week or Wukong in his small questions from ‘What he likes to grow in his garden?’ to ‘How long did he take to build his home?’ It was nothing too invasive, just simple questions here and there and they finished up the plate, though there was a small fight between both humans and the sage monkey over who would get the last beef dumpling. It was a tense match, but it was MK who won in the end after a serious battle of Jan Ken Po.

“Victory tastes so good,” he smirked as he devoured the dumpling.

“I will remember this,” Mei hissed as she messed with her pigtails.

“Maybe it’s time we review the basics again,” Wukong huffed and he slurped down the tea.

“You're just mad that I won.”

“Children all of you,” Mac said as he got his clone to put the plates in the sink.

“You're not wrong,” she said as she leaned back against him.

The simian hands then began to unconsciously undo her messed up pigtails and groom her hair. Both parties didn’t really take note of the change as this was a daily routine for anyone who has known them long enough.

Wukong just eyed the scene with mirth and a small bit of jealousy, that he will forever deny, as he watched his friend groom his child.

“Can I groom your fur,” he was startled by MK’s question.

“Wha-I mean, sure,” he quickly agreed after getting caught off by the question.

He smiled widely as he pushed the great sage Monkey King to the floor and began to gently groom his hair as well. He couldn’t help himself slowly become relaxed as the fingers gently caressed his fur. He has done this multiple times with his tribe, but this feeling will never get old.

“What is up with your fur being so soft?” The boy commented, “Dad’s fur is super soft and now yours? Is there a rule that demon monkey fur has to be soft?”

“Technically not a demon, but that is just the side effect of quality grooming,” he had to stop himself from letting a purr out as the kid continued. “Makes the fur nice and silky.”

He didn’t really pay attention to what his student said next as he closed his eyes and let the soft hands thread through his fur then when he opened his eyes once more it was dark and the hands had stopped.

He took a quick glance around and saw that he must have dozed off during their impromptu grooming session as he saw MK was now leaning against him in deep sleep and Mei curled up like a small cat on the couch with a pillow under her head. Yet there was no Macaque insight, his eyes flashed a bright golden as he scanned the area and saw the familiar outline of violet aura sitting on the railing outside.

So, he carefully dislodged himself from his student grip, laid him down gently with a blanket, and softly padded his way outside the warm home and into the cool night air.

“Could have sworn you were passed out,” Mac said as Wukong sat down next to him.

“What can I say, grooming plus silence equals sleepy time,” he shrugged, kicking his feet as he looked around, “you do have a nice home.”

“Thanks,” he awkwardly answered.

“Must have taken quite some time to build.”

“A few years.”

“Oh,” he said, then an awkward silence filled the air as neither side knew what to do without the kids acting as some sort of buffer between the two. Neither monkeys knew how to go from here despite one inviting the other over, they didn't know where exactly how to start nor, which is both their biggest worry, how it might end. But the inevitable conversation did need to start, so Wukong turned to his friend.

“Look, about the whole fight the other day and me saying you were just trying to use MK, I’m sorry,” he really knew he did a major fuck up then. “You really do care for the both of them and I can tell that they really love you as well.”

“…thanks, I got really lucky having them in my life,” he smiled then he winced, “Sorry about almost killing your friends back then, that was stupid of me.”

“Yeahhh, about that,” he turned his whole body to face him, “that has been nagging me for the longest of times. Why did you attack them?” He surprisingly watched the black furred monkey groan and put his face in his hands.

“It was both parts stupidly and sheer impulsiveness. I came to find you after Guanyin freed you and I heard you screaming and I saw you in pain, I thought you were being tortured,” he quietly replied.

Wukong's eyes were shot wide open as the truth of this finally came to light. This whole time he thought rage towards humans finally erupted in one huge explosion and attacked them, but it wasn’t. That wasn’t it. Macaque attacked them because he thought they were hurting him, he attacked his friends because he thought he was in pain because of them. Everything that happened, from the fight to their long separation was due to a fucking screwed-up misunderstanding!

“Oh,” yet he didn’t know how to voice any of that out, which is ironic considering he is known for being a loudmouth after his impulsiveness.

“I am sorry,” he reiterated as he barely got a reaction out of his friend. “I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions, but I just heard screams and I saw you lying there, that I couldn’t stop myself from listening to the voices,” he admitted. Wukong is one of the few people he has ever told about the voices that like to whisper in his ears all their malicious intent and their cruel lust.

“…we both are truly hot messes huh,” he finally said as he looked back to the moon and gave him a small nudge. “Just look at the two of us, you somehow became the recluse medicine man that lives in the forest alone, but still somehow ends up with two kids, and me, who lives up in the tallest of mountains and became the Great Sage Equal to Heaven.”

“You forgot to add reckless idiot, somewhere there,” Mac lightly jokes.

“Heh yeah…I forgive you,” he quietly stated.

Macaque whipped his head to him, “Just like that? I almost killed you and your friends back then and that whole fight, and the words-” they both winced at the reminder of those damned words they spoke to the other. “What I did was horrible.”

“And we fought and I made you fucking blind!” He hissed out as he tried to see past the glamor in place to look at his hazy eye.

“I’m pretty sure I left you with a few scars yourself,” he shot back.

“A few scars are nothing compared to being blind!”

“That is just one injury compared to the multitude!”

“It doesn’t work like that, you are literally a physician?!” He threw his hands up.

“And I do declare myself completely capable despite my disability!” He barked back.

“I never said you weren’t capable, I know better than to underestimate you. Remember back with the fire spirits.”

“Which ones?”

“The arrogant bastard ones.”

“Which ones? There are numerous of them,” he deadpanned.

“The ones centered by the river, you know the spirits who thought they were powerful enough-”

“To take on the deity that commanded that puddle of water,” he said with him and continued. “I still can’t believe that those words came out of his mouth,” he snorted.

“And after we kicked their asses,” Wukong reminded him with a wide grin, “remember the look on their faces when the river goddess heard what they said.”

“I have never seen a fire spirit look like they want to piss themselves that fast before,” he barked out his laughter.

“Right!”

The two shared a laugh at the memory of the deity whooping their asses once more as the arrogant spirits either ran away screaming or died beneath her thundering waves. Both of them were completely safe as they watched the entire thing from on top of a tree and made bets over which idiots would survive. Their laughter eventually died down as the night silence took over once more, but it wasn’t the awkward silence that greeted them but a kindling of familiar comfort they shared before.

“We really are idiots,” the medicine monkey faintly commented.

“Glad to hear you finally admit it,” the sage monkey replied then he paused as he thought for a moment, but pushed forward. “After our many years of friendship, I would have never thought I would ever hear the day.”

Mac's eyes widened at his admission, “Friends?”

“Yep,” he boldly looked him in the eyes, “I mean I have spent centuries with you, so I think we are way past that level you know.”

“Despite not seeing each other in between those centuries,” the simian retorted.

“Well friends do have stupid fights with each other sometimes, it’s just not specifically for mortals you know,” the monkey slightly grinned.

“You're not wrong,” he swung his feet, “do…do you want to start over? Maybe try anew?” Thinking that maybe they couldn’t go back to how things were before, how the easy smiles and laughter that they used to share between the two of them and thoroughly dissipated. That maybe, if they begin right here and right now, there can be some resemblance of that bond that was once shattered.

Wukong let that answer sink in and ponder it only for a few moments before shuddering. “I…no I really don’t,” he said with a surprising harshness in his tone. “You were the one person who has known me longer than anyone other than the ones that still reside on the mountain, you are the only one who knows me the best out of anyone, and call me selfish, but I don’t want to start over with the only person who knew me from the inside out and still give a damn about me.” He can’t even imagine just throwing away all those years that he spent with moonshine, it would be easier if they ripped his head out instead, at least then the pain won’t be so bad. “So how about we both agree we made and did stupid ass decisions and continue on, cause if I’m being honest here, I really missed your grooming,” he teased.

“You just want me for my hands,” he couldn’t help but say.

“You do have very lovely hands,” he didn’t deny.

Macaque snorted before nodding, “Yeah, I like that peaches.”

“It’s been a while, mango,” Wukong grinned as he took in his friend form once more. He really had changed a lot since the last time he saw him, who he was is still the same, but he has opened up his soul a little wider and has beautifully flourished. Just how, well he just has to see more for himself. But not just his soul, but his whole outer appearance and he’s not talking about his ‘feminine’ clothing, both of them aren’t ones who care for gender roles or whatever the humans have decided their identity is based around. Rather his long fur that is swaying gently in the breeze under the moonlight night.

He couldn’t stop himself from taking glances at that fur each time he looked at the black furred simian. From just the sheer size to the fluffiness, as his student had proclaimed (though he can’t help but agree) he really just wants to thread his fingers through his fur. Maybe it’s just the absence of not grooming his friend fur in a long ass time, but he wants to remember how soft his fur is, to gently smooth out any tangles, to let him sit in between his legs as Mac sinks into his ministration and purr once more, to hold him as long as he can as they gently relax in each other arms to have his hands move down from his gorgeous fur and to his beautiful face and tilt his head up so that his golden eyes meet his own and ben his head down to meet-…oh.

And it was at this moment as he stared at Liu Er face did the thought occur to him as their tails unconsciously had entwined for the first time in over five hundred years and sat together beneath the stars.

‘I still love him,’ he faintly thought and his own heart pounded in confirmation. Not even when they have been separated for five hundred years did he stop loving his moonlight. ‘I really won’t stop loving him…and for some reason, I don’t mind.’

But instead of saying anything, he instead put his face on top of Macque's head and playfully nuzzled him. He can see his moon fondly rolling his eyes at his antics, but lean in as he feels his smaller friend rest his head on his shoulder.

‘This is enough,’ both simians privately thought as they cuddled close together.

Though they weren’t quite alone as two pairs of eyes were trained on them from the living room and they haven’t moved an inch since they heard Monkey King walk outside for the first time.

Mei and MK looked at each other in complete shock as they took in the scene. The surprise wasn’t from their conversation nor from the harmonious aura that surrounded them, but rather from the black and brown tails that were intertwined with each other. Now they may not know how romantic love feels and looks except from t.v, movies, couples strolling, and the scarce amount of times Mei parents come around, but they can tell there is something definitely there as it was hanging around the two monkeys and seeing them like this, it clicked.

‘Holy shit, Monkey King is the old flame!’ MK exclaimed with his eyes as he looked toward Mei.

‘It would seem so,’ her eyes flickered.

‘And he likes Dad back!’ His eyes widened.

‘Indeed he does,’ she narrowed her viridian eyes.

‘What do we do?’ He blinked three times as he was happy that they reconciled, but was unsure of what’s to come.

‘Watch for now and see what happens,’ she breathed as they both turned to look at the two silent monkeys basking together in the night.

Slow burn? Slow Burn?! They have been slow burning for countless centuries that even the polar bears are starting to feel the heat

HAHAHAHA I’m turning up the fucking heat for these damn monkeys

#lego monkie kid #monkie kid #mk #macaque #six eared macaque #monkey king #PlumTeaAU

26 notes · View notes

inkslingersworld · 3 years

Text

Crowbar (Alternate First Meeting)

Hi guys! This here short story is my first participation in Adrigami Week! I was planning on posting it yesterday, seeing as it’s following the “Alternate First Meeting” prompt, but the time got away from me. Idk if it’s still eligible for the official reblog or not, but I still had a blast writing it all the same. Enjoy! (Contains very mild profanity)

\\\\\

Her lip was bleeding. For whatever reason, Kagami chose to focus on this minute aspect out of all the other injuries she’d sustained. She dabbed it with a paper towel.

Kagami couldn’t recall how she’d gotten like this. There was so much she couldn’t recall, and the staggering immensity of all her forgotten experiences had weighed down on her for so long that when she found herself in a bathroom without a clue as to how she’d gotten there, she was able to handle the newfound situation better than someone who hadn’t been through what she had.

The only thing that confused Kagami was that her clothes were in perfect condition, despite her face being bloody and streaked with dirt. In fact, they looked as though they’d just been sewn by a master tailor.

She brushed the puzzlement aside - she couldn’t linger here in this mysterious bathroom. Lingering got you killed.

The door opened easily at her touch, and Kagami examined the bedroom that it led into. The walls were painted in an eye-catching shade of purple, but the bed itself was small and plain. Kagami also noticed that there was no furniture other than a small nightstand and that the window was broken. It framed the outside world in jagged glass.

This aforementioned outside world was cloudy and bleak. Based on how damp the street appeared, Kagami concluded it must’ve rained recently. The buildings matched the clouds in their shade of gray, with windows just as broken as the one Kagami was using as an observation point. No street signs were visible. No vehicles, no animals, no people. Not even wind.

Kagami couldn’t care less about the lack of other individuals; her attention was pinpointed on the crowbar leaning casually against the building opposite. Without a second’s hesitation, she kicked away the rest of the glass and crawled expertly out of the window.

She didn’t know how she knew there’d be a fire escape, but resolved not to ponder on it, because every second she didn’t have the crowbar was a second where it could fall into the possession of someone else. Crowbars were tools; tools were extremely helpful.

By the time Kagami had raced down the stairs leading to the ground, she could notice how old and rusty the crowbar was. In retrospect, it probably wouldn’t be much use against some of the more contemporary weapons others owned, but in times like these, Kagami would take anything she could get.

In no time, she had dashed across the street and grasped the crowbar in her right hand. Flakes of deceased metal fell to the ground like rotten snow as she twirled it experimentally. Even if it fell apart in combat, it was nevertheless pretty maneuverable.

“Drop it.”

Kagami turned around instead, searching for the voice’s master. She found the man in question stepping out the adjacent alleyway. His face was hidden under an old halloween mask, but Kagami could see he was wearing a green rain jacket and pointing a pistol in her direction.

Was it a pistol? Further examination led Kagami to realize it was no such thing; it was a water gun, and she almost pitied the hopeless idiot who brandished it at her.

“I said drop it!” the man shouted, though not very loudly.

“You know that’s not a real gun, right?” Kagami asked nonchalantly, deciding to break the truth to him.

The man lowered the toy firearm and hung his head. “Damn it.”

“Wait, you already knew?” said Kagami in disbelief. “Why on Earth would you use a water gun instead of, I don’t know, an actual one?”

“I’m a pacifist,” admitted the man, sounding guilty. “I’m a believer of nonviolence.”

“I don’t know if you’ve heard, but nonviolence fell out of fashion a while back,” said Kagami, not knowing where she’d heard it from.

“Well, I always favored the old styles over the new,” the man said. “You hungry? I’ve got some food.”

Kagami’s mouth fell open in spite of herself. Who did this airhead think he was? You didn’t just go around offering people food. But before she’d even responded, he started walking over to her, removing his mask in the process.

Based off his recent actions, Kagami was expecting him to look innocent and tame, and she was not disappointed. However, she hadn’t foreseen blond hair and green eyes. She hadn’t expected him to look this... well, attractive.

“I’m Adrien, by the way,” he said, plopping his butt on the pavement and taking off his previously concealed backpack. “What’s your name?”

“I’m not about to tell you my name!” Kagami cried exasperatedly. “I know nothing about you!”

Adrien, who’d previously been busy unpacking, looked up at Kagami closely for the first time. His eyes widened after locking with hers and he dropped the box of Ritz crackers he’d been taking out.

After a few uncomfortable seconds, Kagami demanded, “What?”

Adrien flinched violently and faced the ground, blushing. “Nothing.”

“Why were you staring at me for so long?” persisted Kagami.

“N-No reason!” Adrien stammered embarrassedly.

“Then why were you doing it?”

“I don’t know!”

Kagami decided not to push the topic and begrudgingly sat down; she hadn’t realized how hungry she was until now.

“So...” began Adrien slowly, seeming to regain some of his previous placidity. “I never did learn your name.”

“We’re not there yet,” Kagami grumbled, snatching a plastic-wrapped sandwich out of his hands.

“Well, what are you doing ‘round these parts?” Adrien asked curiously, putting his chin in his hands.

“None of your business,” snapped Kagami, losing some of her intimidation skills to a mouthful of grilled cheese.

“How’s the food?”

“Awful,” Kagami replied, even though it was delicious.

Adrien laughed hard. “You’re funny!”

“No, I’m not.”

“Oh, but you are!”

“What’s your problem?” asked Kagami sternly. “You know nothing about me, I could’ve killed you without hesitation as soon as you came over here!”

“And yet you didn’t!” Adrien pointed out cheerfully.

Kagami took a deep breath, trying to keep her temper in check. “Adrien, wasn’t it?”

Adrien nodded and smiled, seeming delighted that she’d remembered his name.

“Adrien, I don’t know what miracle allowed you to survive for this long, but in our society’s current state, you might not be around much longer. I suggest you drop this puppy dog attitude and learn to fend for yourself.”

“Why learn to fend for myself when we can fend for each other?” asked Adrien earnestly.

The sincereness of this question, contrasting with the playfulness Adrien had exhibited, caught Kagami off guard for a moment, though she soon regained her bearings.

“Adrien, no offense, but you’d be dead weight,” she stated. “Even if I wanted to stick around with you, my memory kinda wipes itself clean every six hours or so, only holding on to the most treasured information - my name, my personality, how to speak, how to read and write, knowing what stuff is, and the like.”

“No way!” exclaimed Adrien, before Kagami could continue. “I have the same thing! That’s why I started a diary!”

He zipped open his backpack again and retrieved a worn leather-bound book. Adrien opened it and showed Kagami its messily written contents.

“I originally didn’t remember how to write,” he explained, flipping through some pages to get to the beginning, “but I was able to relearn! It took like a year, though.”

Kagami peered at the even messier scrawl of a younger Adrien. She was shocked to see his name spelled incorrectly with crayon.

“How long’ve you been on your own?” she asked uncertainly.

“About twenty years, I think,” Adrien answered dismissively. “I can’t know for certain, I didn’t relearn how to understand a calendar until someone took me in when I was... fourteen, maybe?”

“Someone took you in?” inquired Kagami.

Suddenly, Adrien’s face began filled with sorrow and loneliness. “Yeah... yeah, I don’t like thinking about that.”

Noticing how sympathetically Kagami was gazing at him, Adrien quickly plastered his old smile back on. “That doesn’t really matter. Now I’ve got you!”

Kagami hesitated. One of the instincts her memory’d held onto was avoiding people, but Adrien seemed different. He in the same situation she was in, and he’d shown her kindness. Besides, it’d be nice to have a companion, and Adrien’s diary probably contained scores of valuable information to help the duo survive.

Even if not for all those reasons, there was something else, though Kagami wasn’t sure what it was yet. For whatever reason, Adrien made her feel relaxed, happy even. She didn’t know why, but he did.

“Okay, Adrien,” she said resignedly. “You can stick with me.”

Adrien’s face lit up with gratitude, and before she knew it, Kagami found herself buried in a hug. It was warm and comforting.

“Thank you so much!” Adrien said happily.

“No problem, Adrien,” sighed Kagami, already having her doubts.

Adrien released her and scooped up his backpack. They both stood up.

“Where are we headed?” he asked.

“West,” responded Kagami mechanically. “It won’t make too much of a difference, but we need all the sunlight we can get.”

The two started to walk. After trekking for about a minute, Adrien spoke again.

“You never did tell me what your name is.”

Kagami smiled softly and rolled her eyes. “It’s Kagami.”

“Kagami,” repeated Adrien thoughtfully. “I like that name.”

\\\\\

@adrigamiweek

#inkslingersworld #inkslinger #miraculous #adrigamiweek2021 #adrigamiweek #adrien #kagami #alternate first meeting #long post #adrigami #crowbar

20 notes · View notes

theres-an-impulstor-among-us · 3 years

Note

Can we see what happens when Zedaph is finally found after being left in Evil X’s lair?

okay so this is the newest ask in my inbox but i’m sorry, i couldn’t resist doing it now lol i’m on a Zedaph angst hype train asdfghjkl

Requests are still open! Please read pinned post before requesting.

This one is a sequel! Read the first part here.

...

Zedaph’s stomach is churning painfully, aching for food. He doesn’t know how long he’s been here but he does know it’s been at least a whole day. His mouth and throat are dry and scratchy; there’s nothing for him to drink in here either. And after having spent most of his energy crying his eyes out in the first hours of his confinement, he’s becoming dangerously dehydrated.

His hands are pale and bruised, and his knuckles are even bleeding in a few places, from his various attempts to break down the door. But without a pickaxe, he can’t even make a crack in it. He left most of his stuff behind when he came on patrol with EX, so he has nothing useful.

His heart aches when he thinks of EX. He trusted them so much. There was nothing he wouldn’t have done for them, but clearly, they never felt the same. They just used him and tossed him aside when they had to, leaving him to rot in a place where his friends will never find him. Or, at least, it will take a very long time.

Wincing, he wraps his mask around his actively bleeding knuckles. He feels sick at the sight of the reminder of how naive he’d been, but he has to admit, using it as a makeshift bandage is helping ease the pain a little.

He leans back against the wall and closes his eyes. Maybe it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours yet. Time is passing weirdly here. And he certainly loves food enough that going only a day without it would cause his stomach to hurt this much.

How much longer will he survive…?

In the distance, he hears a voice. But does he actually hear it, though? Or is it just a hallucination? It must be fake, because it’s someone calling his name and there’s no way anyone has found him here after only a day.

But then he hears footsteps too.

“Zedaph! Are you down here?! Please, answer me!”

Zedaph blinks weakly. “Tango…?”

The footsteps stop.

“Zed! Is that you? Say something else!”

Zedaph jerks to his feet and almost immediately falls over again, weak from lack of nutrition. Thankfully, the noise he makes when he hits the door is enough to alert his best friend to his whereabouts, and Tango’s worried face quickly appears in the barred window in the door. “Oh my God! Zed! You really are down here! Are you okay?!”

Zedaph’s sudden movement has drained all his energy. It’s all he can do to force himself to stay awake and not pass out.

“Zed!” Tango calls again, desperation audible in his voice. “Gah, there’s no lever or button or anything…!”

No lever? EX must have taken it with them, Zedaph realises.

“Zed, get away from the door! I’m gonna break it down!”

Zedaph weakly pushes himself to the side, safely out of the way.

Outside, Tango takes a deep breath and throws his entire weight against the door. It creaks, but doesn’t break or even crack.

“Damnit, I need a pick,” he mutters, taking out his communicator.

One quick message and five excruciating minutes later, Tango hears footsteps on the stairs. He automatically tenses up but relaxes quickly when he sees Impulse burst into the room, pickaxe in hand.

“He’s in there,” Tango says worriedly, pointing at the iron door. “I didn’t bring a pick.”

Brow furrowed with worry, Impulse rushes over to the door and attacks it. Thanks to his netherite pickaxe, the door breaks within seconds, allowing Tango to squeeze past Impulse and dash into the cell.

Zedaph is lying propped up against the wall, still dressed in his superhero outfit. His skin is pale and he’s noticeably thinner than the last time Tango saw him, but that’s no surprise. He’s clearly unconscious, his chest slowly rising and falling as he takes shallow breaths.

“Zed, can you hear me?” Tango kneels down beside his best friend, trying not to panic. “Zed!”

But Zedaph doesn’t respond.

“We need to get him back to his base,” Impulse says shakily from behind him. “I’ll call the others and get them to help us.”

“No, not his base,” responds Tango immediately. “I want to take him to mine. I need him somewhere I know he’ll be safe.”

Impulse hesitates, before reassuringly gripping his friend’s shoulder. “Okay.”

…

When Zedaph opens his eyes, he finds himself in a room he knows well: the guest bedroom at Tango’s base. He’s stayed here many a time, sometimes when he and Tango have a sleepover, sometimes when he has a nightmare and doesn’t want to be alone.

Letting out a quiet groan, he pushes himself into a sitting position and notices that not only are his hands bandaged but there’s a weird kind of glyph around his wrist. As soon as he registers this, he realises he doesn’t feel hungry or thirsty anymore. That must be related to the thing on his wrist.

As he’s inspecting it more closely, the door opens and he glances up sharply.

“Oh!” Tango yelps. “Zed, you’re awake!”

He and Impulse dash to either side of the bed and sit down; the former on the side of the bed and the latter on a chair next to it.

“Hey.” Impulse’s pale face holds a wide smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Um… weird,” replies Zedaph truthfully. “What’s this thing on my wrist?”

“That’s a command bracelet X gave you,” says Tango. “You were in such a bad way when we found you that X had to use it to get your nourishment levels up. He said you might have ended up in a permanent coma if he hadn’t.”

“Wow… I can’t believe I managed to get so malnourished in only a day,” Zedaph murmurs.

Tango blinks. “A day? ONE day?”

“Y-Yeah. Why...?”

Tango and Impulse exchange a glance.

“Buddy…” Impulse clears his throat. “You were missing for just under a week.”

Zedaph’s eyes slowly widen. “Wh-What?! A week?! H-How could I have been gone that long…?!”

“I don’t know, but Xisuma said it’s a miracle there’s no permanent damage to your body or code from going that long without food or water,” says Tango shakily.

After a moment, Zedaph squeezes his eyes shut, releasing fresh tears. “Why did it take you a week to find me?”

Tango flinches, while Impulse takes his hand and grasps Zedaph’s shoulder with his other hand. “We got a message from your communicator,” Impulse replies slowly. “Saying you would be busy doing stuff on your own for a while and you didn’t want anyone to disturb you for at least a week.”

Zedaph takes a moment to digest that but when he does, his heart skips a beat. EX said they had taken Zedaph’s communicator. They must have sent that message so that it would take even longer for him to be found. How could EX be so cruel to him…?

“Th-That wasn’t me,” he rasps.

“Well, luckily, I’m super bad at following instructions,” says Tango with a weak smile. “I came over to see you after four days but I found your base empty. I dunno why, but I got a bad feeling so I looked for you in all your normal places and when I found nothing, I alerted the other Hermits and we started a server-wide hunt.” His smile drops. “I-I’m so sorry it took us this long to find you. We never expected to find you in a place like that.”

“If you feel up to talking, how DID you end up in there?” Impulse asks slowly.

Zedaph hesitates, his stomach starting to churn again. “I… I’m not ready to tell anyone what happened yet. I’m still… processing it, myself.”

“Of course.” Tango takes his best friend’s hand. “You should get some rest.”

“But first, I gotta ask you a really serious question,” says Impulse sternly.

Zedaph gazes at him nervously. “O-Okay.”

“Are you… Worm Man?”

After a moment, Zedaph spots the sparkle in Impulse’s eyes and has to laugh. His friends join in, and for a minute or so, the three just laugh together, taken by the overwhelming relief that Zedaph is back safely. Those seven days may have gone by in a blur for Zedaph but the last three days were the longest and most painful of Tango’s and Impulse’s lives.

But now, it’s finally over.

Zedaph is home.

#hermitcraft #zedaph #impulsesv #tangotek #evil xisuma #vaunna’s requests

58 notes · View notes

hurt-care · 3 years

Text

The Reunion - WW2 era fic

I've been listening to an audiobook about WWII in the UK and there's been multiple mentions of people writing in their diaries about suffering from lengthy colds as well as a discussion of the increase in casual sex during the war (especially during air raids, when it became a welcome distraction). So, let's just say I was inspired...!

Male, cold, OCs, contains 18+ content

The Reunion -

The club was positively bursting with young revellers and the sounds of a jazz band playing as couples moved across the dance floor in tight embraces, flitting in and out of shadow of the chandeliers sparkling overhead. Champagne flowed liberally, delivered by waiters in smart tuxedo jackets and white gloves. If a time-traveller had been magically transported inside, they would have no idea that outside the walls of the club there was a war on.

Making her way through the throngs of people was Katherine Marsh, or Kat to her close friends. Close at her heels was Mary Alderman, an old school chum who'd come up through London society with her. The girls wove through the dancers on route to a table up on the balcony that circled the dance floor, providing a spectacular view of the room below. Only the uppers of society generally occupied the tables here and the demand was such that often bribes had to be given to the head waiter to ensure a spot. Peter Halford, one of Kat's other longtime friends, had been in charge of the evening's transaction and now he waved cheerily from a spot in the corner as the girls approached.

“Hello, Peter!” Kat said joyfully as she sided into a chair along the wall, tucking the skirt of her silk gown around her. “Have you ordered a bottle yet or shall I do the honours?”

“It's just coming now,” Peter replied, nodding towards the approaching waiter who carried a magnum size bottle in a silver ice bucket while another waiter followed behind deftly balancing a tray of champagne coupes.

“Your timing is impeccable as ever,” Mary said with a laugh. “I'm parched.”

She flashed a smile at Peter, her eyes sparkling in the light of the crystal scones along the walls. Kat smirked knowingly at her friend. Mary had been pursuing Peter over the course of several of these evenings out on the town, but Peter remained seemingly oblivious to her advances.

Tonight, Mary was draped in layers of royal blue silk with a spectacular diamond bracelet glinting on her wrist. She looked radiant and Kat thought Peter had to be completely daft to not notice. Kat, on the other hand, had no particular beau in mind. She'd danced with dozens of men and dined at parties across the countryside around London, but no one gentleman had captured her heart. Besides, she was barely twenty and so many of the young men her age were away at service. For now, she was content with dancing and snogging sessions in dim alleyway with soldiers on leave and officers posted to city stations.

The waiter poured them all glasses of champagne and the trio toasted to health, happiness, and the victory of Britain. The chat was light and merry, with Peter filling them in on his new job at the Royal Airforce's London offices near Whitehall. At the hour neared eleven, someone took to the microphone to introduce the next band complete with a line of cabaret dancers dressed in feathers and sequins for entertainment. Mary squealed in delight as the drums kicked up the beat of a popular dance tune and she reached for Peter's hand.

“Oh, will you dance?” she asked breathlessly. “I love this song.”

Peter downed the last of his champagne glass as he stood up.

“Of course. Kat, find yourself a man and let's go.”

The two disappeared into a sea of people moving towards stairs that led to the dance floor. Kat drained her own coupe and stood, surveying the crowded tables for familiar faces or handsome strangers.

A few girls were lingering at a table of Naval officers and as the men stood and paired off with them, one man remained seated alone with a cigarette in his hand. As the duos passed by, Kat realized with a heart-dropping thud that she recognized the lone officer that had stayed behind.

Oliver Hartnett had danced with her at her first debutant ball when she was seventeen and she'd been completely enraptured by him. Two pages of her diary were dedicated to extolling his virtues, from the gentle tambour of his voice to his green eyes, from to his broad shoulders to his chestnut hair. As quickly as he'd come into her life, he'd left it again. They'd shared two dances that night and some brief conversation at a dinner party a week later, and then she hadn't seen him since. Word in the upper circles said he'd gone to Scotland to work for an aging uncle's business and he disappeared from London's upper crust.

Kat dumped the dregs of the champagne bottle into her coupe and gulped it down, feeling the rush of bubbles to her head as she bolstered her courage. She reached into her small handbag for her compact, inspecting her face and reapplying a coat of her precious lipstick, as the bright red shade was now nearly impossible to find with the war rations and so she reserved it for nights out alone.

With a smile on her face that she hoped concealed her nerves, she glided as confidently as she could over to the table.

“Ollie Hartnett, is that you?” she said over the din of the music and the crowd. The man at the table seemed startled by the interruption and he looked up at her, his face vacant for a moment. Then, a grin spread across his face.

“Oh my goodness, Miss Marsh,” he said, standing suddenly and extending his hand.

She laughed.

“It's Kat, please,” she said, taking his broad hand in her and shaking it. “Do you mind if I sit?”

“Of course, please do,” he said, fumbling to get around the vacant chairs nearby in order to pull out one for her. She folded herself gracefully into the seat, crossing her ankles as her mother had always instructed. For once, she was glad she'd listened to Mary's constant chatter about fashion and had worn the deep emerald green silk gown with the black trim that she'd purchased for the previous winter's New Year Eve celebration at Mary's family estate. It set off her figure nicely and contrasted with her auburn hair and milk-white complexion.

Oliver was shaking her head, still grinning.

“What a surprise,” he said, his gentle voice barely audible over the music. “You look well.”

She smiled back.

“I am! Well, as well as anyone is in London at war, I suppose. You've joined up, I see. On leave?”

“For a few more weeks,” he replied, taking a slow drag of his almost burnt-out cigarette. “I'm posted at Brighton, usually.”

“And you're not on the arms of a dozen girls dancing your night away?” she teased.

He snubbed out the cigarette in the ash tray and shook his head.

“Honestly, I wasn't keen on going out at all but the other gents insisted.”

“If I recall, you were quite popular on the dance floor,” she continued. “What's changed?”

“Just a bit under the weather, that's all,” he replied. “Haven't felt up to much dancing tonight, but I'll spare one for you, for old time's sake.”

She felt herself blush.

“Not yet,” she said. “I have to hear all about where you disappeared to that summer. You left a lot of us wondering why one of our dashing debs up and left London at the height of the season.”

“It's not a particularly exciting story, but if I'm going to tell it we ought to do it over a drink.”

He beckoned to a waiter who returned shortly with two cocktails on a black lacquered tray and a serving of peach melba for each of them.

Oliver detailed how the rumours were true; he'd left London for the banal task of running the business operations for his uncle's small factory in Glasgow. A year ago, as the ferocity of the war had begun to increase, he'd enlisted in Royal Navy and left the factory in the hands of the old foreman and his cousin, a savvy young woman named Rose.

More than once during the story he'd paused momentarily to clear his throat with a cough or take a sip of his cocktail to revive his waining voice. Kat felt a pang of sympathy now that she was close and could see clearly the weariness in his face. Though it was spring, the weather had been dreadful and frigid for weeks and many people she knew had been battling heavy colds.

She told him about her adventures in London with Mary and Peter, and about her volunteering posting with the Women's Auxiliary Service where she worked to find temporary housing for those displaced by air raids.

When they'd finished their peach melbas and cocktails, the band struck up a lively tune and Oliver appeared to summon some energy with a broad smile aimed at Kat.

“This is the one,” he said, extending a hand. “Would you like to dance?”

She nodded, trying not to let her rush of enthusiasm show too greatly.

He led her down to the dance floor and took her into his arms, leading the gentle sway as they danced among the other couples. His broad hand rested on the small of her back and Kat felt a rush of heat to her body as they touched, cheeks almost against one another. The gentle warmth of his breath tickled her neck and she was sure he was about to lean in to kiss her there.

His voice mumbled something deep and low into her ear but she couldn't discern it over the music.

“Mmm?” she replied.

“Oh Christ, sorry,” she heard him say and suddenly he was moving swiftly away from her, his one hand leaving her back and his other dropping its grip from hers.

Eh-TSGHT! He turned his face into the sleeve of his officer's uniform, sneezing inaudibly to her as the rest of the dance floor continued their rhythmic sway.

“So sorry,” he shouted, leaning back so she could hear him. He reached into his pants pocket for a handkerchief, which he dabbled briefly under his nose.

“Sorry,” he repeated as he took up his embrace once more.

“It's okay,” she said into his ear. “I hope you don't feel too poorly.”

“No,” he said into hers, his lips almost brushing against her. “Better now.”

She leaned herself closer against him and he pressed his lips to her neck. She sighed with delight, feeling all the rush of emotions that she'd had when they'd first danced. His body was more muscular and square now, without the lanky lines he'd had as an eighteen year old.

Tilting her head upwards, she met his lips and they kissed briefly.

He leaned over to speak into her ear again.

“I hope I'm not catching.”

“I don't care,” she said and captured his lips again. The kiss deepened and a couple nearby sided away to give them a moment of privacy.

The song ended and Katherine stayed in the embrace of Oliver's arms as the next began.

He looked down at her with a soft, tired expression.

“I'm dreadfully sorry, but I'm afraid all this noise and such is too much for me tonight.”

“Can you stay up a little longer?” she asked. “There's a nice restaurant not too far from here. We could go and have a drink there and talk. It's much quieter.”

It was past midnight now and while Oliver looked like he might consider declining in favour of being tucked up in bed, he nodded and smiled.

She grinned back at him and kissed his cheek.

“I'm so glad. I'll find my friends to tell them I'm off. Meet me by the doors? Would you be a dear and get my coat for me?”

She fished the small coatcheck tag from her handbag.

After she'd shouted her goodbyes to Mary and Peter (who looked very cozy together on the dance floor, she noted with pleasure), she found Oliver leaning against a wall by the exit with her coat over his arm and his own Navy-issued wool peacoat already on. He held up her coat to help her into it and offered his arm to her, walking at her side out into the cool spring night.

The air was clear and crisp, with a half-moon overhead. The streets were brutally dark thanks to the blackout and they made their way clumsily along the road, squinting to see landmarks in the dim moonlight.

“It's down to the left, one more block,” she said as they passed the entrance to another dance club where the only light came from several cigarettes that glowed as young people poured in and out from the doors and slipped behind blackout curtains into the well-lit hall.

“Can we pause a moment,” Oliver asked. “Sorry, just a moment.”

She stopped, turning to look at him.

“Sorry,” he repeated, reaching for his handkerchief. She could see him silhouetted in the dim moonlight as his shoulders trembled and he shook his head for a moment. Then, with a deep breath, he pitched forward with a wrenching sneeze.

Hurhhh-TSGHXTT!

Unable to mask the sound, he gave a brief but noisy blow into the handkerchief afterwards before hastily tucking it into his coat pocket.

“I'm so sorry,” he said, taking her arm up again. She gave him a light squeeze, leaning against his side as she did so.

“Don't apologize,” she said. “I'm only sorry to hear you so poorly. Blasted cold seems to be going around everywhere.”

“The boys in my unit said that if I can't spend a night out with a head cold, there's no way I'd last through a month at sea battling the Germans,” said Oliver, his voice a little hoarse. He cleared his throat with a cough. “I suppose that's true.”

“Well, we'll find you something warm to drink at the restaurant and that should revive you,” Kat said cheerfully.

They were just rounding the last corner onto the street where the restaurant was located when a sound split the air. The wail of the air raid sirens began their raised pitch, increasing to a loud din of pulsing noise.

They paused in the street, stunned. It shouldn't have been entirely a surprise; the sirens were a regular occurrence in the city but neither one of them had encountered the alert while out on the street.

In the darkness, a voice shouted authoritatively.

“To your shelters, please! Nearest public shelter is the Piccadilly Circus station. To your shelters please!”

The figure of an air raid warden with a metal helmet on passed by.

“Which way is Piccadilly?” Oliver asked.

Kat glanced up and down the dark street.

“My rooms are only two or so more blocks past here,” she said. “If we hurry, we should be fine. There's a cellar in the back.”

Gripping his arm tightly, she led the way down the road. Several times they nearly collided with others making their way to safety. As they neared the house where she rented lodgings, the sky began to shine with searchlights and in the distance, the sound of anti-aircraft guns began to crackle. The bliss of dancing and the haze of champagne cleared from Kat's head as she steered them down an alley between some homes and to a metal hatch that covered the entrance to the cellar. She tugged it open and hovered a foot over the void, finding the top step.

“Six steps down. Pull the door shut behind you,” she said to Oliver. Her hand trailed along the earthen edge of the wall until it met the edge of a candlestick and a pack of matches. She struck one alight as Oliver shut the hatch with a loud bang.

The tiny chamber glowed in the candlelight, illuminating the stone and soil room. Oliver was breathing heavily, almost wheezing. Katherine tipped the lit candle to light others, gradually brightening the room enough to see without too much strain.

“Sit,” she insisted, gesturing to a small crate topped with a cushion. “Catch your breath. I'll put some tea on.”

Hhh-TSGHHH!

The sound of the sneeze startled her and she looked over in time to see Oliver building up to a second. He tipped forward, nose nestling into the folds of his waiting handkerchief.

Ehhh—hhehhTSXHHT! “Bless you!” she said earnestly. “Are you warm enough? There's plenty of blankets. My landlady, Mrs. Beecher, is up north visiting her sister and the other girl who rents rooms is at her family home for the week. So it's just you and me here unless we get some surprise guests from next door.”

“No, I'm fine,” he said quietly, wiping his nose. “Sorry.”

“I don't mind a bit of sniffling,” she said teasingly. “You don't need to keep apologizing.”

“Have you had to spend many nights down here?” he asked, surveying the cellar. It was appointed with provisions for the three woman who lived above plus extras for any visitors who might end up sheltering there. Two wooden bunks were stacked against one wall, each with pillows and blankets and thin mattresses. Another mattress was rolled and stored in a nearby trunk with additional linens. A small table held a kettle on a fuel-powered heater and several teacups. There was a deck of cards, a basket of knitting, and a lidded chamberpot. Someone had cheekily hung a framed piece of embroidery that read “Home Sweet Home.”

“Oh, I've lost count,” Kat said as she set the kettle to boil once she'd filled it with water from one of the three large canteens by the steps that led outside. “This is only the second time I've ended up down here in an evening gown, though.”

Once the kettle was heating, she opened a chest and took out a wool jumper and a pair of socks.

“Good thing I'm prepared,” she added.

Oliver watched as she sat on a wooden chair and unstrapped her high heel shoes and slid her hand up under her gown to unclip her precious nylon stockings. Careful not to snag them, she rolled them down her legs and pulled on the socks.

He laughed as she put the jumper on over her evening gown, put her coat back on top of that, and donned a pair of Wellington rubber boots. She struck a pose for him.

“You'd be the toast of all the fashion magazines,” he declared.

His chuckle turned to a cough that sounded strained and painful. She frowned at him and shook her head.

“I'd say you should've followed your own ideas and stayed home instead of the advice of your mates,” she said. “But I have to admit I've awfully glad I ran into you.”

He recovered from the coughing spell and looked at her with affection.

“I'm glad too,” he said. She poured the hot water from the kettle into a teapot to steep and selected two teacups.

Outside, the din of the air raid sirens had ended. There was the sound of distant explosions, but for the time being they were far from the action.

“I'm afraid I've no milk to offer but we have a bit of honey.”

“That'd be lovely, thanks,” he said.

She poured them each a cup and sat opposite him, savouring the warm tea. He drank his own cup, clearly soothed by the hot liquid. He dabbed at his nose a few times with his handkerchief as it began to run from the warmth.

When the cups were empty, they sat in silence for a moment. A bomb exploded somewhere a few blocks away and the candles flickered as the shockwave trembled through the earth. The remaining teacups on the table rattled against each other. Kat closed her eyes for a moment, sighing.

“Are you frightened?” Oliver asked.

“No, I don't think so,” she said. “I suppose I always am, a little. But not terribly.”

She set her teacup down on the table and moved to sit on the bottom bunk bed, patting the mattress beside her. He stood and moved to her side. The next thing she knew, they were kissing, his hands were in her hair and she had a hand on his chest. She kicked off the boots and pulled up her dress so she could sit astride his lap. He kissed down her neck and tugged her coat off, his hand going under her jumper and stroking her breasts through the silk of her gown.

She exhaled with pleasure, starting to slowly grind against his hips. She reached for the waistband of his trousers and he helped her with his belt. He made a soft moaning noise as she fumbled with the buttons at his fly and found her way downwards. His lips brushed her shoulder, pressing kisses where the neck of her jumper was stretched to the side. A brief cough escaped him, puffing against her skin. He muttered an apology and she murmured a sweet assurance as she began to stroke him.

“Wait,” he said breathlessly. He pulled her arms upwards and guided the jumper off over her head. She pushed his coat off him and made quick work of the buttons of his shirt, tugging that off too. He urgently shed his shoes and trousers as she stood and slipped off the silk gown revealing a satin bra and knickers with mother-of-pearl buttons.

He watched her hungrily as she slid out of the knickers and climbed back onto the mattress, guiding his pants off his hips. They kissed tenderly and she settled down on top of him, hips rising to meet hips. He made that same low moaning noise and she felt her body jolt with pleasure, hands roaming through his chestnut curls.

He made love to her urgently as the sound of bombs echoed outside. They moved together, breath increasing to gasps. His nose was running freely and he briefly sniffled and pressed it against his own shoulder to rub it. She kissed his neck and felt the expanse of his chest press against hers as he took a sharp breath. His body shuddered under her as he sneezed a restrained outburst, clearly trying to keep the explosion minimal.

Ngh-GHXT!

She moaned involuntarily as the spasm thrust him against her.

“Fuck,” he groaned under his breath. “Sorry.”

“Please,” she gasped. “Oliver!”

He sniffled thickly and then resumed with vigour until they both lay panting and shivering on the bed. He looked utterly exhausted but there was a smile on his lips. She leaned over and kissed his cheek.

“You sweet thing,” she whispered. “As if you weren't exhausted at the start of the evening.”

She slipped out of the bed with a blanket around her shoulders and found his shirt and socks and underthings on the ground.

“Best put at least your socks on before you drop off entirely,” she said tenderly, helping him dress before they both slipped under the quilts again.

She woke at some ungodly hour to the sound of nose-blowing and the roar of the 'all clear' siren. From feel, she could tell Ollie was sitting up in bed, straining to clear his nose with his sodden handkerchief. It was pitch black in the shelter and she had no idea how long they'd been asleep.

She managed to find the matches and lit a candle. Oliver sounded dreadfully congested and by the dim light of the single candle, she could see his nose was red and angry-looking at the edges.

“Oh, love,” she said, leaving the candle on the bedside table and climbing back under the quilts next to him. “How do you feel?”

He exhaled noisily.

“Rather poorly, I'm afraid,” he said hoarsely. “I hope for your sake it's not catching.”

She squinted at the wristwatch she kept wrapped on the bedpost. It was half-past four.

“It's still early but there's the all-clear. Do you want to get rugged up in my bed upstairs or stay here.”

He folded the handkerchief and tucked it at his side, snuggling back down beside her.

“That answers that,” she said, tucking his head against her breast. She stroked his hair and planted a kiss there. “Try to get some more rest, darling. I'll take good care of you.”

#dustyfic #snzfic

93 notes · View notes

rachelsteapot · 3 years

Text

Rescued: Tommy Shelby x Female!Reader Pt. 2

Here’s part 2 for all you lovely people :) Read part one Here

Just to let you all know, I am aiming to post twice a week, Mondays and Thursdays, but I am currently on Easter break so when I return to 6th Form, that may change. I aim to post at least once a week during term time, but that is to be comfirmed.

Thank you so so much for all the love and support that you have shown me for Rescued. I really wasn’t expecting this much love. You’re all wonderful!

Warnings: None

Tags: @bat-luna-cat , @nothingleftthaticando

That evening, Tommy Shelby returned to Battersea cats and dogs home.

He pushed the front door open and entered the foyer, where he had stood mere hours before. No one was there so he sat in one of the slightly battered looking seats and let himself relax. Today had been long, but by his standards, not overly eventful. He wanted to see his new dog, but also this girl that had caught his eye.

Y/N, on the other hand, was shitting herself.

The Thomas Shelby was here to collect a dog, one of her dogs, and she hadn’t made any considerations. If she’d have known, she would have had all the dogs lined up and ready.

But she hadn’t.

And all that was left to do was pray.

Finally, she hauled herself from her self pity and appeared behind the desk to see the famous Mr Thomas Shelby light a cigarette. His stunning blue eyes met Y/N’s and her heart thudded in her throat.

“Please follow me, Bruce is waiting for you,” Y/N gulped, watching Tommy’s coat sweep as he stood.

Tommy watched as this girl, this woman, gracefully walked across the foyer, opening a different door to earlier. Upon entering, he found her crouched next to Bruce, stroking him gently and whispering. Finally she stood, taking a second to wipe tears from her eyes before she turned to him.

"I hope you love Bruce just as much as I do. He's been at Battersea for a couple of years now and, honestly, he's the best dog ever. I swear, he's got to be part human, he always knows how to comfort you," Almost as if to prove it, Bruce pushed his head into Y/N's hand and whimpered gently.

Tommy felt his heart melt a little more for this woman. It was clear that this dog meant a lot to her. And for a moment, his heart ruled his head.

"You could always come with us."

Y/N shot Tommy a confused look. This was not the Tommy she had heard about, and she was not about to become part of some cruel game.

"What do you mean, come with you? You're adopting a dog, not asking to marry me. At least ask me out to dinner first," Y/N blurted before she could stop herself.

Tommy's eyebrow raised, but so did the corners of his lips. Then, followed a short chuckle.

"The Ritz, 8 PM tonight. Buy yourself a dress, I left an envelope in the donations box."

"But the Ritz doesn't take dogs-"

"They will if it's mine, come on Bruce," and with that, Tommy turned and strode out of the kennel. Y/N hurried after him with the bag of dog food, and found the Shelby brother stood next to a very expensive looking Bentley. Bruce followed obligingly and began sniffing at the wheels of Tommy's car while the two humans loaded his things.

Once the car was loaded, Tommy hoisted Bruce into the passenger seat and shut the door, before settling himself in the drivers side. He turned, leaning out of the window and met Y/N's gaze once again.

"The Ritz, 8 PM, don't be late," and with that, Mr Shelby and his new companion trundled away down the street. Y/N stood there, dazed, desperately trying to process what had happened. Then, she remembered the envelope. Y/N dashed inside and opened up the donations box, removing a pale envelope with her name printed neatly on it, and opening it. Inside was a wad of cash, easily amounting to near £100, although she didn’t care to count it before she stuffed it into her pocket.

The next thing that Y/N’s whizzing brain realised, was that she would need to finish work early today, meaning that she would need to confront her mean, and rather sleazy manager, Mr. Smith. Mr. Smith was a middle aged man who tried to cover his rapidly receding hairline with a badly matched toupee. He seemed to have no inhibitions, and where his hands didn’t wander, his eyes definitely did.

Gulping down bile, Y/N approached his office and knocked on the door. She heard a croak from within and opened the door, stepping into the shroud of cigarette smoke.

“Mr. Smith, it’s Y/N. I’m just letting you know that Bruce has been paid for and collected, and the money is in the strong box under the main desk.” When she heard a grunt of approval, Y/N continued. “Also, Sir, I hope it’s not too much trouble, but I was wondering if Margerie and Alan could close up tonight without me? I have been having a few women’s issues and I feel I would be of more use tomorrow if I could have a few hours off tonight.”

Upon the mention of women’s issues, Mr. Smith began to cough and splutter, nodding and waving his hand through the shroud of smoke.

“Yes, leave, just know it will be deducted from your pay for this week!”

Y/N didn’t need to be told twice. She thanked Mr. Smith, and dashed from his office, wishing a brief goodbye to her co-workers as she went.

Then, she was running towards the shopping district, once again praying to whatever god may be listening, but this time, in the hope that the shops were still open.

Finally, it was 8 PM. Tommy had arrived at the Ritz not long before eight, and had settled himself and Bruce into a private room. He had ignored the protests of the concierge in regards to Bruce’s presence, and was adamant that it would stay this way. Now, all that was left to do, was wait.

When Y/N finally arrived, she was escorted into the room by a smartly dressed waiter. Tommy had stood from his seat to politely welcome his quest, but when he saw her, his world flipped.

Y/N was wearing a well fitted silver full length evening gown. It had small straps that fed into a plunging back, which Tommy had glimpsed as Y/N had turned to thank her escort. Gone was the ragged, almost street urchin looking girl, and instead in her place stood a young woman who could easily have been mistaken for the daughter of a lord. Y/N held herself differently too. Her posture was relaxed yet elegant, and her hands rested in her lap, holding a small silver bag.

"Mr. Shelby? Is everything okay?" Y/N's query roused Tommy from his unsaintly thoughts as he cleared his throat and met his guest's eyes.

"Yes, please, please sit." He directed, pulling out the chair opposite his for Y/N to sit on. She gracefully sat in the chair, stroking Bruce gently who had laid his head on her lap.

"So, Mr. Shelby,"

"Tommy, call me Tommy."

Y/N gulped, "Tommy, why did you ask me here?"

"Because, Y/N, you intrigue me. I don’t often get to talk to people like you.” Tommy’s voice was calm and measured, a drastic contrast to the storm that was raging in his head. He picked up his glass and took a sip, watching the woman opposite him intently.

“Shall we order some food? I expect you’re hungry.”

The rest of the evening passed slowly, time running like honey. Y/N slowly allowed herself to relax, enjoying the company of a man for the first time in what felt like forever. And he was attractive too.

Towards 10 PM, Tommy moved from the seat opposite Y/N to the seat beside her, their conversation flowing like the alcohol from their glasses.

“Y/N,” Tommy started after a prolonged period of comfortable silence. “How would you feel about coming back to Birmingham with me?”

Y/N was shocked. She had known this man less than twenty four hours and he was already suggesting she uproot her life and move halfway across the country to a completely different city.

“I don’t know if I can, Mr. Shelby- Tommy. The dogs are all here, and so is my job, and my friends. I can’t just leave,” Y/N felt Tommy deflate slightly, only microscopically, but it was enough.

Silence shattered the room. It wasn’t warm and comfortable, but cold, aggressive, heart breaking.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Shelby. Thank you for a lovely meal, I hope I may get to see you again. Please take good care of Bruce.”

Y/N stood and turned, only to feel her hand catch on something warm and firm.

Tommy felt his heart break as Y/N rejected his offer. This woman was like nothing he had ever encountered. She was intelligent, quick witted, able to drink just as much as he was, and stunningly beautiful. He was not going to let her get away that easily.

So, Tommy reached out and grabbed her hand as she attempted to leave. He spun her around and pulled the young woman flush against him.

“I can’t let you go just like that. Y/N, you intrigue me. You more than intrigue me. Please, come back to Birmingham for a day. We can see how it goes. I’ll get you a job at my company, you can meet my family, and then you can decide if you want in or out of my life. Please, Y/N. Please.”

Y/N felt Tommy’s hot breath on her neck, warming her heart. She could feel his body through his shirt, she felt the way that they fit. No one had ever felt so right. So she swallowed her pride and ignored the voice of reason.

She was going back to Birmingham with Tommy, and that was final.

#tommy shelby #peaky blinders #tommy shelby x reader #arthur shelby #john shelby #shelby company limited #dogs #cillian murphy

60 notes · View notes

dahlia-coccinea · 3 years

Text

A few thoughts on the scene of Catherine returning to the Heights after her stay with the Linton’s - it is commonly cited in discussions about her character and generally, the narrative goes that she shows herself to be vain and narcissistic in laughing at Heathcliff, and this honestly confuses me? I think that is quite selective in what details are noted about the scene and misses placing it in a wider context. To start I think its best to reference the scene in its entirety, sorry it is quite long (bolding is mine):

Heathcliff was hard to discover, at first. If he were careless, and uncared for, before Catherine’s absence, he had been ten times more so since. Nobody but I even did him the kindness to call him a dirty boy, and bid him wash himself, once a week; and children of his age seldom have a natural pleasure in soap and water. Therefore, not to mention his clothes, which had seen three months’ service in mire and dust, and his thick uncombed hair, the surface of his face and hands was dismally beclouded. He might well skulk behind the settle, on beholding such a bright, graceful damsel enter the house, instead of a rough-headed counterpart of himself, as he expected. “Is Heathcliff not here?” she demanded, pulling off her gloves, and displaying fingers wonderfully whitened with doing nothing and staying indoors.

“Heathcliff, you may come forward,” cried Mr. Hindley, enjoying his discomfiture, and gratified to see what a forbidding young blackguard he would be compelled to present himself. “You may come and wish Miss Catherine welcome, like the other servants.”

Cathy, catching a glimpse of her friend in his concealment, flew to embrace him; she bestowed seven or eight kisses on his cheek within the second, and then stopped, and drawing back, burst into a laugh, exclaiming, “Why, how very black and cross you look! and how—how funny and grim! But that’s because I’m used to Edgar and Isabella Linton. Well, Heathcliff, have you forgotten me?”

She had some reason to put the question, for shame and pride threw double gloom over his countenance, and kept him immovable.

“Shake hands, Heathcliff,” said Mr. Earnshaw, condescendingly; “once in a way that is permitted.”

“I shall not,” replied the boy, finding his tongue at last; “I shall not stand to be laughed at. I shall not bear it!” And he would have broken from the circle, but Miss Cathy seized him again.

“I did not mean to laugh at you,” she said; “I could not hinder myself: Heathcliff, shake hands at least! What are you sulky for? It was only that you looked odd. If you wash your face and brush your hair, it will be all right: but you are so dirty!”

She gazed concernedly at the dusky fingers she held in her own, and also at her dress; which she feared had gained no embellishment from its contact with his.

“You needn’t have touched me!” he answered, following her eye and snatching away his hand. “I shall be as dirty as I please: and I like to be dirty, and I will be dirty.”

With that he dashed headforemost out of the room, amid the merriment of the master and mistress, and to the serious disturbance of Catherine; who could not comprehend how her remarks should have produced such an exhibition of bad temper.

Importantly Nelly specifies that Heathcliff isn’t just his usual level of childish dirtiness and unkemptness, which assumedly Catherine wouldn’t have noticed when she comes home eager to find him. She wasn’t expecting him to be so neglected and her worst fault here is carelessly misplacing the reason for Heathcliff’s dirtiness, and not recognizing the larger neglect done by Hindley and how laughing could very understandably have hurt him (I don’t think many 12 year-olds are particularly emotionally intelligent though). Initially, she doesn’t seem to notice his state since she runs to him and gives seven or eight kisses. What she does not do, is she does not come back and say she’s better than him, acts embarrassed of him, or indicates she doesn’t want to be friends anymore - she says “it will be fine,” he just needs a wash.

Catherine’s presence must have been part of what kept him tidier as Nelly notes that it during her absence is when he fell into such neglect. This would be in line with Nelly’s previous description of the two of them of when Hindley first comes home: “Heathcliff bore his degradation pretty well at first, because Cathy taught him what she learnt, and worked or played with him in the fields.” Just as she would teach him what she learned and worked with him in the fields I’d say in this scene she’s simply consistently showing care for his wellbeing, even if she isn’t completely considerate when expressing it.

Not to get too off subject but I think this is pertinent - the line, “They both promised fair to grow up as rude as savages” might be another quote that is taken too literally at times - I don’t think they were just running around dirty all the time as Nelly noted that Heathcliff isn’t generally this uncared for. Also, this line ends up being understood as their rejection of all society and their resistance towards growing up which I think may only be partly true. While I love that Nelly calls them “unfriended creatures,” I don’t take this to mean that they are simply elements of nature. Along with @astrangechoiceoffavourites’ recent post about how “Heathcliff does not reject Culture. Culture rejects him,” I think it’s also often overlooked that they both admire the beauty of the Grange. He describes the house in great detail:

“ah! it was beautiful—a splendid place carpeted with crimson, and crimson-covered chairs and tables, and a pure white ceiling bordered by gold, a shower of glass-drops hanging in silver chains from the centre, and shimmering with little soft tapers.”

He tells Nelly if they were in Edgar’s and Isabella’s position, “We should have thought ourselves in heaven.” Catherine is not more vain or materialistic than Heathcliff, or vapid just because she tells a 13-year-old boy who works on a farm and is only washing once a week he needs to wash more.

Still, Heathcliff has every right to feel hurt, he’s facing terrible physical and emotional abuse and as mentioned previously this has repercussions on his self-esteem for his whole life. Hindley in this scene is clearly trying to demean him to the level of a servant in the eyes of Catherine. A few months previously he was loved and cared for by Mr. Earnshaw but now any bright future is quickly disappearing. Heathcliff must know his situation won’t change under Hindley. The encounter with the wealth of the Linton family and Catherine’s acceptance into their world is also a stark example of Catherine’s ability to have something better than being with him forever. They both will grow up one day and she will eventually marry and there is no way Hindley would allow them to do so, nor would he give Heathcliff any means or education to provide for a family and have a home.

Seeing Catherine obviously well cared for I think ignites a little jealously and fear that he is already losing her company. He seems at least mildly aware of Edgar as a potential rival as we see the next day during his conversation with Nelly when he tells her, “...if I knocked him down twenty times, that wouldn’t make him less handsome or me more so. I wish I had light hair and a fair skin, and was dressed and behaved as well, and had a chance of being as rich as he will be!” He did already note Edgar’s reaction to Catherine at the Garage saying, “Edgar stood gaping at a distance...I saw they were full of stupid admiration.” It seems easy to assume he is at least starting to be aware of her - three months prior he mentions to Nelly Catherine’s “beautiful hair,” “enchanting face” and says, Catherine is “immeasurably superior to them—to everybody on earth.” Catherine of course doesn’t necessarily know he feels this way and most likely isn’t fully aware of all his feelings about the situation he’s in. Seems reasonable to assume that she’s somewhat blind to his inner conflicts - later when talking to Nelly she seems to think that Heathcliff understands her completely yet its apparent they aren’t on the same page. She is as blind to the extent of his feelings, as he is of her’s.

Anyway (getting a little off topic), Catherine’s subsequent reaction to this scene is totally out of line with the narrative of a wildly self-loving and cruel girl, and again we get a glimpse of a morose Heathcliff, nursing his pride and slowly pulling away from her. The fact that he storms off and they don’t immediately go back to their former relationship before her stay at Thrushcross Grange completely shocks her. After this encounter Catherine shows feelings of guilt and distress over the sour encounter. “She cried when I told her you were off again this morning,” Nelly tells Heathcliff the next day. And later again Catherine cries over Heathcliff’s mistreat by Hindley upon the Linton’s arrival. Later that evening when he’s locked in a garret Nelly details how she sneaks off to visit him:

“She made no stay at the stairs’-head, but mounted farther, the garret where Heathcliff was confined, and called him. He stubbornly declined answering for a while: she persevered, and finally persuaded him to hold communion with her through the boards. I let the poor things converse unmolested, till I supposed the songs were going to cease, and the singers to get some refreshment: then I clambered up the ladder to warn her. Instead of finding her outside, I heard her voice within. The little monkey had crept by the skylight of one garret, along the roof, into the skylight of the other, and it was with the utmost difficulty I could coax her out again.”

Later on she tells Nelly that his miseries have been her miseries - and she certainly isn’t ever as classist in her treatment of Heathcliff as her daughter is towards Hareton. When she misses Heathcliff for three years she’s only missing a “ploughboy,” as Edgar calls him. When he returns a gentleman she scoffs at Edgar’s suggestion that Heathcliff be let into the kitchen and mockingly gives the order: “Set two tables here, Ellen: one for your master and Miss Isabella, being gentry; the other for Heathcliff and myself, being of the lower orders.” And later tells him “Heathcliff was now worthy of anyone’s regard,” which shows she’s obviously blind to how many will always perceive him as an outsider and never a true gentleman.

For fun, here is how this scene was adapted for the 1939 film - in the scene Catherine dreads seeing Heathcliff and upon seeing him makes no move to embrace him, then they have this AWFUL exchange:

Heathcliff: Why did you stay so long? Catherine: Why? Because I was having a wonderful time. A delightful, fascinating, wonderful time...among human beings. Go and wash your face and hands, and comb your hair...so that I needn't be ashamed of you in front of the guests.

I have a lot of questions. Number one: how dare they? lol How did they extrapolate that from the book? This has become the lasting memory of her for many film viewers, and also somehow for people that have read the book.

I know there are many conversations that could be had on Catherine saying it would degrade her to marry Heathcliff, or at various time saying he is a baby, a pitiless wolfish man, and a brute. I’m not trying to gloss over when she is demanding and not always kind to him or other characters but people really choose to be blind to some of her actions in order to paint her as the villain of the story. Catherine Earnshaw is a wonderfully flawed and human character and these interpretations make her so 2D.

I feel like a lot of these views are an expansion on this discussion as well as this other post (credit to @princesssarisa) about the relationship between Catherine and Heathcliff before he leaves - I’ve found so few critics talk about them in a realistic, rather than metaphysical, way. Fewer yet discuss Heathcliff’s role in their failed relationship. More commonly they assert that Heathcliff’s feelings for her are true and hers are based on a shallow self love or whatever. So I guess I’ll just have to write it myself lol.

#wuthering heights #catherine earnshaw #emily brontë #she does not deserve the slander lol #this was supposed to be short...#i totally lied at the start - this isn't just a few thoughts #i get worried posting things this long because i'm sure the i forgot to edit something #thoughts

52 notes · View notes