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inkykeiji · 4 years

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i can take you there but baby you won’t make it back

character: dabi | todoroki touya

notes: stepcest (kind of—ur parents aren’t married yet) with dabi-as-touya x a very naïve and inexperienced reader, normal!AU (no quirks, dabi also has tattoos over his scarred + fully healed skin), university!reader, implied yakuza!dabi, excessive use of the words niichan and good, praise kink, fingering, face fucking, title credit = save that shit by lil peep lmao uhhhh yeah i hc dabi as a very intelligent and perceptive individual soooo i feel like he’d be a master at reading a person & their emotions and then adapting his manipulation techniques

warnings: 18+, pseudo-incest (stepcest), noncon/dubcon, slight somnophilia, emotional manipulation, toxic relationship, size difference, slight degradation, mentions of drug use

words: 7.1k

part 2.1 | part 2.2

synopsis:

“You want to be good for me, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Of course,” you respond instantly. Later, when you lay awake in your bed, you’ll feel ashamed by your actions, by how readily captivated you were with him, by how easily he was able to manipulate you with those sapphire eyes and that rough voice—

But in that moment, you’ll do anything to pull that little smile from him, anything to hear him tell you you’re good. You just want to be good.

Something dark and primal flashes in those gorgeous eyes as they gaze down at you, a small grin spreading across his face. “Of course,” he repeats softly.

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

Your dad’s been dating Rei for a while—nearly a year, now—when things begin to get serious, and he proposes to her.

She accepts, so it’s not exactly a surprise when she suggests you guys move in with her—she’s got more than enough space, she tells you, it’s just her and her son in that big old house—and your dad seems pretty thrilled about it. This was the next step before marriage, after all.

You like Rei well enough, she’s always been nothing but sweet to you, and anyway, your father’s relationship really isn’t any of your business or concern.

It isn’t that you don’t want to move in with her—her house is in a better part of the neighborhood, a standard detached upper-middle class home, and just a short walk from a bus stop that’ll take you directly to university, which you start in a week.

It’s just…You’re a little apprehensive.

You know she has kids. She mentions them in passing every once in a while, but you can’t for the life of you remember their names, or their ages, or how many of them there are. You know they don’t all live with her, that her relationship with her ex-husband is complicated and rocky at best.

But you’re still surprised to hear that only one of them, her eldest, lives with her. She tells you he’s five years older than you are, that he’s a clever, smart boy, going off on a tangent about how disappointed she is that he didn’t go to university, because ‘he would’ve done so well—he could’ve shone so brightly.’ Something about the way she says that, the way her voice sounds almost sad, makes anxiety turn to lead in your stomach. She talks about him as if he’s already a lost cause, but he’s only in his mid-twenties, isn’t he?

You understand the moment you see him. The man standing in front of you as you shift from foot to foot unsurely in the foyer of this unfamiliar house is about as far from what you anticipated as he could possibly be.

He’s tall, skin pale as moonlight, with jet black hair and the most stunning blue eyes you’ve ever seen. But that isn’t what captivates you. It isn’t the lip ring curled around his bottom lip snuggly, and it isn’t the tongue piercing you’re about to find out he’s hiding in his mouth, either.

Every inch of the exposed skin of his arms is covered in intricate, seamlessly flowing tattoos—or, for a moment, you thought it was tattoos, plural. Upon closer inspection, you realize that each arm is actually covered in one giant tattoo, giving a new definition to the term ‘sleeve’. It’s all black ink, not a splash of colour anywhere, depicting an extremely detailed and anatomically correct mechanical arm, complete with what would’ve been joints, ligaments and bones in the form of wires and steel.

The tattoos extend onto the tops of his hands, made to look as if surgical staples are peeling his skin back to reveal the robot beneath. This same tattoo continues up his neck, along his jaw and onto his cheeks, all the way to his bottom lip, spreading across his entire face and disappearing into his hairline and onto his ears. Finally, there’s a small portion of the tattoo underneath his eyes, the surgical staples lining the edges of the face tattoos, too.

It startles you—you’re not necessarily scared, you just…weren’t expecting that. But there’s no denying the rush of breath that involuntarily escapes your lips as your eyes search his face, raking over his body in a brazen way that should make you feel shameful, travelling back up to find him smirking smugly at you, raising an eyebrow as your eyes meet again.

The look in his eyes tells you he knows, knows what you’re thinking about, knows how undeniably attracted you are to him, and scalding heat floods your cheeks.

He chuckles a little, which does nothing but add insult to injury, and sharp anger slices through your chest at the way that you stomach absolutely drops at his gravelly voice. You can’t believe yourself, can’t believe your body is reacting and responding so readily to this man—this stranger.

He introduces himself as Touya, in that rough, deep voice that forces a jolt of electricity to run through your veins. You idly wonder what your name would sound like on his tongue, how it might sound if his voice dropped to a growl, find yourself stuck thinking about this for the rest of the night.

✰ ✰ ✰

To your disappointment, and as much as you are unabashedly interested in him, you don’t interact much with Touya for your first few weeks in the house—in fact, you barely see him at all.

This only piques your curiosity about him more, finding that you’re unable to tear your eyes from him on the rare occasion that you are in a room together. He catches you staring every single time, and he has the audacity to chuckle to himself and shake his head when his gaze meets yours, your eyes quickly darting away and cheeks burning at his laugh.

You begin gathering little tidbits of information about him, purely sourced from interactions you witness in the house, desperately praying for something that’ll give you an opportunity to start a conversation with him.

Your efforts prove fruitless when, almost a month and a half since you moved in, you’ve still only spoken a handful of words to him. You do learn a bit about him through observing, though.

You discover that he’s a smoker, which really doesn’t come as a shock at all. Marlboro’s are his favourite, and he’s always got a pack in his back pocket or rolled up in the short sleeve of his t-shirt. He must have them imported—Marlboro’s are incredibly rare to find all the way in Japan.

Touya must have a lot of things imported.

You find out that every other Thursday, Touya discreetly stuffs an absurdly large wad of cash—all composed of ten-thousand-yen bills—into his mom’s hands, forcing her fingers to curl around it. She fights him on it, every time, but he’s firm and adamant that she take it. It always ends with Rei giving him a small, watery smile, Touya pressing a kiss against the side of her head and murmuring that he loves her.

After you witness this interaction for the first time, you begin to notice that, while the house looks relatively normal on the outside, it is stuffed full of luxury on the inside. Flat-screen TVs each complete with full entertainment systems, state of the art appliances that are somehow up to date with all of the latest trends (including a smart fridge—absolutely ridiculous), custom made furniture, ornate rugs, a housekeeper that drops by every Sunday…

You have no idea what he does for work, but you think you’ve got at least some sort of idea when you catch him one night, just past 2AM, exiting his room and using a thumb to brush excess white powder off his nose. His eyes catch yours, pupils blown and shining in the low light, and he smiles darkly at you, winking once as he walks away.

You don’t ask—no one ever does.

You don’t ask about the crimson splattered on the toe of his boot, or why he sometimes smells metallic, like copper, the strong scent wafting after him and invading the halls as he stalks leisurely toward the bathroom. You don’t ask why he leaves the house at odd hours in the night, and you definitely don’t ask about the soft clinking and clicking you hear through the thin walls every so often while he cleans his gun at 3AM.

You’re not sure if it’s really any of your business, anyway. So you stay quiet, and continue to wait.

The opportunity finally comes one Wednesday in October, two weeks before Halloween, when you’re in the kitchen after school busy fixing yourself an afternoon snack. Touya comes home uncharacteristically early—you rarely see him before 10PM, so his entrance scares you, and you jump a little.

“Sorry,” he murmurs as he passes by behind you, just an inch too close, just enough so you can feel his body heat radiating off of him.

“It’s fine,” you say quietly, shaking your head a little and trying in vain to stop your hands from trembling as you spread peanut butter across a piece of bread.

You can feel his eyes on you, and it makes you nervous, makes your skin crawl in a way you’ve never felt before. He laughs a little at your struggling, leaning against the counter next to you and crossing his arms over his chest.

“You don’t have to be so nervous around me, y’know,” he says with a smirk, eyes glittering at the way your lips part in surprise, your breath stuttering a little. “I’m your niichan after all, aren’t I?”

You hadn’t even considered using the honorific until he himself uses it.

Your hands freeze, hovering over your plate, and you look over at him slowly. “You…Want me to call you that?”

“You can, if you’d like,” he says smoothly, nonchalantly, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. It makes no difference to him, he tells you, but when he finally looks back at you, you think you can see it in his eyes—a sharp, small glimmer of…of something. Something that makes your stomach twist in a way you can’t decide if you like or not.

But this is it, you think, this is your opening to finally begin talking to him.

So you do. And the smirk he gives you the first time you address him by the honorific, voice quivering slightly as you ask him where Rei normally keeps the blender, is nothing short of predatory.

“It’s on the top shelf. It’s too high for you, though,” he says, voice so sickly sweet it almost sounds mocking. “Let niichan get it for you,”

It isn’t, but you let him get it for you anyway.

And he knows—knows he’s got you the moment you gasp at the honorific leaving his lips, trying to hide it behind your hand, nodding quickly and squeaking out a thank you.

It starts after that. He begins playing with you; a sick, perverse game of cat and mouse, hunter and hunted, and you play your part perfectly.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it, if you said it didn’t send wicked sparks of excitement shooting up your spine and an intense fluttering in your stomach.

And it starts slow. It starts with gentle pet names—honey, sweetheart, princess—and fingertips trailing down your arm as he passes you. It starts with a large hand placed on the small of your back, guiding you—out of the house and into his car, out of the kitchen and into the living room, out of the hallway and into his bedroom—and with little pecks on your lips stolen when no one’s watching, quick kisses that leave you feeling exhilarated despite their chastity.

Suddenly, he’s home a hell of a lot more. He’s sitting too close to you on the couch while you curl up with a textbook, his thigh pressed against you and flesh burning hot through his black jeans. He’s joining the family dinner a few times a week, idly hooking and unhooking his ankle with yours beneath the table while smirking at you from across it.

Suddenly, he’s asking you if you need a ride to school, or if you need someone to pick you up. You don’t, you tell him, the bus is just fine, but he insists. It’s what niichans do, he says. He wants to take care of you, he says.

Who are you to deny him that, really?

✰ ✰ ✰

The first time you experience Touya angry is about a month after the inciting incident, when he catches you walking home with a few of your university friends.

He had texted you earlier that day, telling you that he—very regretfully, he said—would be unable to pick you up from school this afternoon because ‘something had come up’.

You didn’t question what it was—you knew he’d lie even if you did. So you accepted it obediently, reassured him that it was fine, that you’d find another way home.

You’re pretty sure if you had told him that you didn’t have any extra change on you for the bus suddenly whatever important thing that had ‘come up’ which so desperately needed his attention wouldn’t be so urgent anymore. But you didn’t want to be a bother, or inconvenience him, so you say nothing.

Two friends decide they’ll accompany you on your walk home, so you aren’t lonely, they claim. Normally, the walk from campus to your house is about thirty minutes, but that day it takes you nearly an hour, wasting time goofing around and walking slowly as you talk idly.

Touya’s already pissed that it’s taken you so long to arrive home, that you’ve ignored all of his extremely considerate texts asking if you’re alright, but when he sees you squished between two boys, giggling as the three of you stumble up your driveway—he’s fucking fuming.

“Where the fuck have you been?” he asks, voice calm and monotonous, leaning casually against the doorframe.

Your head snaps up—you swear he wasn’t there just a second ago—blood running cold.

His stance is relaxed, arms crossed loosely over his chest, lazily raising an eyebrow as your wide eyes meet his. Technically, the only indication that he’s furious is the blazing blue fire in his eyes, but your friends can read the tension in the air surrounding him, shuffling a little closer to you. This minuscule action does not go unnoticed by Touya, sharp jaw clenching once.

“You had niichan worried,”

You’re frozen a few feet away from the porch, unable to find your voice, to move your legs, to breathe at all.

“I didn’t know you had an older brother,”

Your eyes do not leave Touya’s as you speak, the words hoarse. “Oh, we’re—”

“Yeah,” Touya bites, irritation finally bleeding into his voice. “She does,” his eyes float back to yours. “Come here, princess,”

Your body snaps into action, moving automatically before you can even comprehend it, allowing Touya to tuck you into his side the moment you reach him.

Your hands are shaking, but you have no control over them as your fingers curl in his white t-shirt, clinging to him. To your surprise, the arm around your shoulders hugs you closer in response, thumb caressing you.

“Thanks for making sure she got home safely,” he tosses over his shoulder, managing to make the simple sentence sound like an insult, tone bordering on patronizing, while he turns on his heel, marching you both inside.

“I-I’m so sorry,” you’re rushing to say the moment the front door shuts behind you two, Touya’s arm still wrapped firmly around you.

He looks down at you coldly. “Don’t you dare pull shit like that again,” he tells you, eerily calm voice forcing spikes of icy dread up your spine. He pauses for a moment, letting his words sink in as his eyes bore into yours. “You had me worried sick,” he breathes out then, squeezing you again. You’re surprised in the sudden change of tone, feeling your chest swell at the thought of him fretting over you, a small smile gracing your lips.

“I…I did?”

Touya’s eyebrows furrow, as if he’s offended at your questioning, mood morphing in the span of a second. “Of course you fucking did,” he spits like you’re stupid, arm dropping. “Do you ever check your phone?”

“Wh-What?”

Touya rolls his eyes. “Check your phone,” he calls out airily as he begins walking into the kitchen, shaking his head a little, disappointment rolling off him in waves.

Hastily fishing your phone out of your bag, you’re astonished to see eight texts from him and three missed calls. You scroll through the texts quickly, each one making you feel more nauseous than the next. ‘Is everything okay? You should’ve been home by now’; ‘Please answer me, princess, you’re making your niichan nervous’; ‘Where are you? Answer my fucking calls already’. Guilt turns sour in your mouth and you hurry after him.

“I-I really am s-so sorry,” you force the words out, unsure as to why there are suddenly tears stinging your eyes. He isn’t even doing anything—his back is facing you as he nonchalantly begins brewing a pot of coffee.

But the thought of him being upset with you, of losing his approval, sends a sharp pain searing through your chest.

“Are you?” he asks, and although his voice holds no malice in it, it causes your whole body to stutter with a harsh breath.

“Yes,” you whimper out, latching onto his arm and tugging in an attempt to draw his eyes to yours, to see how regretful you are, the remorse written across your face. “I should’ve…That was so careless and inconsiderate of me,”

“It was,” he agrees simply, voice still light, as if he’s discussing something as mundane as the weather. “But you’ll never do it again, right?”

“Right,” you agree readily, breathing out the word before you even realize what you’re agreeing to.

“Tell niichan you’ll never worry him like that again,” he finally looks over at you.

“I-I’ll never worry you like that again, niichan, I pr-promise,”

His eyes hold yours for what feels like eons, before he finally twists his arm out of your grasp, instead wrapping it around you and tugging you against his body. You stay staring up at him, eyes wide and obedient, breath bated as you wait for your next order, so pliant and ready to serve him.

“Good,” he whispers, eyes finally softening, and you feel like you can breathe properly again. His free hand cups your face, thumb running along your lips, then your chin, then your jaw. “You want to be good for me, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Of course,” you respond instantly. Later, you’ll lay awake in your bed, feeling ashamed by your actions, by how readily captivated you were with him, by how easily he was able to manipulate you with those sapphire eyes and that rough voice—

But in that moment, you’ll do anything to pull that little smile from him, anything to hear him tell you you’re good. You just want to be good.

Something dark and primal flashes in those gorgeous eyes as they gaze down at you, a small grin spreading across his face. “Of course,” he repeats softly.

✰ ✰ ✰

He begins to trust you more. You meet his friends, each one terrifying in their own right. Jin is alright, although his brain is fried from drugs, and he talks to and contradicts himself a lot, earning the nickname Twice from Tomura.

Tomura horrifies you to your very core—a tall, lanky man with sunken red eyes and sickly pale skin who looks like he’s one bad day away from death—and Touya tells you very sternly to stay away from him.

A university student not unlike yourself, Keigo is your favourite. Keigo is the most normal, with his wild blonde hair and enticing gold eyes that always look like they’re playfully holding the secrets of the universe just out of your grasp.

Keigo’s brain is always going a hundred miles a minute, although you’d never guess it with his trademark lazy drawl, speaking as if he hasn’t got a care in the world. But he can always keep a conversation going, knows exactly what to say to avoid awkward silences or lulls in the discussion, and you appreciate that. You think he’s so cool—he has so much knowledge about the oddest things, everything and anything, ‘a walking encyclopedia’, Tomura calls it, and it fascinates you to no end.

It’s the speed, Touya tells you one night while you’re laying on the couch, your body on top of his, the pads of his fingers dragging down your back in rhythmic strokes. Speed is Keigo’s drug of choice, you find out. Speed is the reason why Keigo knows as much as he does.

“Sometimes he doesn’t sleep for days,” Touya says. “That’s how he has all the time to memorize everything he knows—though that big overactive brain of his plays a part in it, too,”

The thought inexplicably makes your heart sink in your chest, and you don’t say anything else. If Touya notices your shift in mood, he doesn’t mention it. You idly wonder what Touya’s drug of choice is, but you’re too scared of the answer to ask.

✰ ✰ ✰

It’s only a few nights later when you wake with a violent jolt, breathing laboured as you absentmindedly press your palm to your chest, trying in vain to calm your racing heart.

A nightmare.

You sit in silence for a moment, listening to the sound of your own harsh breaths echoing off the walls and debating what to do next. A minute later, you swing your legs over the side of the bed, wincing when your bare feet touch the cold hardwood, and pad down the hallway.

You try to trick yourself into believing that you aren’t using this purely as an excuse to spend the night with him. It really was so scary, you reason with yourself, it really has made you all shaken up…

Who are you kidding? You didn’t even attempt to go back to sleep.

You’ve been in his room plenty of times now—sitting daintily on his bed as he introduces you to new music, new movies, new books. Stuff that reminds him of you, he says, stuff that he thought you might be interested in. You’re grateful for it; there are so many things you’ve learned in the short time you’ve known him.

That isn’t all, though. There’s no denying the warmth that spreads through your body, that tiny excited flutter in your chest, when he calls your name and interlaces your fingers, leading you toward his room and telling you he’s got something to show you.

Yes, you’ve been in his room plenty of times now. But this is the first time you spend the night in his bed.

He’s still up, soft golden light leaking from under his closed bedroom door. Your hand quivers a little as you lift it to rap your knuckles against the wood. He appears in the doorway a moment later, leaning against the frame in a black t-shirt that looks like it’s a size or two too small for him, riding up to reveal a teasing sliver of milky skin, tips of his hipbones jutting out from the waistband of his plaid pajama pants.

“Princess? What is it?”

You didn’t realize you were staring, and you jump a little at his gravelly voice.

“Oh. I, um—Well, I just…had a nightmare a-and I can’t sleep,”

You can barely look him in the eyes as you say it, your cheeks burning. You both know it’s a lie.

But he plays along.

“Aw, baby,” he coos, drawing you into his arms, into his room, into his bed.

“You’re trembling,” he murmurs as he turns on his side to face you, propping his head up with a hand. “Poor thing. Was it a bad one?”

Your mouth feels like its been stuffed with cotton, rendering you incapable of speech, tongue dry and sluggish. You nod in response, heat seeping into your cheeks again at just how loudly your heart is thumping while you roll onto your side. There’s only a few inches of space between your bodies now, his hot breath fanning across your face as he speaks again.

“Do you want niichan to help you forget about it?”

The question hangs heavy in the air, and you suck your bottom lip into your mouth, eyes searching his. Your thighs squeeze together at the way his voice has dropped an octave, low and husky, familiar heat pooling in the depths of your belly. He waits patiently, lifting a hand to caress your cheek, then runs his fingertips down your bare arm, goosebumps following.

Finally, you nod. You think you see the corners of his lips quirk up into the slightest hint of a smirk, but you blink, and it’s gone.

“Here,” he whispers, hooking an arm around your waist and pulling you against him. Hand cupping your jaw, he tilts your face up and slots his mouth against yours.

You’ve kissed before, of course—in his bed, in yours, on the living room couch, on the kitchen counter with his hips shoved between your thighs—but this…this feels different.

These are kisses with intent, with purpose, with a goal in mind. These are kisses that keep you distracted—slow, soft, messy with saliva—as his hand slips down your body and between your thighs.

Your gasp breaks the kiss, wide eyes blinking up at him then fluttering shut as he brushes a knuckle against your clit. He hushes you, nimble fingers spreading your folds before he drags them up your slit, huffing out a laugh at how wet you already are.

“Were you thinking about something naughty before?” he gasps mockingly, sliding the pads of his fingers back down as he speaks.

His hand withdraws from your shorts and he orders you to lift your hips, tugging the waistband down your thighs. You squirm a little, forcing them further down your legs until you free yourself of them completely, eyes gazing up at him again, awaiting your next command.

Legs part dutifully as his hand travels back down to the apex of your thighs, pushing a finger into your soaking pussy.

It’s slow at first, thrusting leisurely with his middle finger a few times and loosening you up a little before adding his ring finger. Sapphire eyes watch his motions, captivated by how your eager little cunt sucks his fingers in selfishly.

“Look at that, huh?” he breathes, looking down at you. “Such a pretty little pussy you’ve got,”

You open your bleary eyes to peer at yourself, mesmerized by the way his fingers are pumping in and out of you, glistening in the dim light of his bedroom. He curls his fingers and you inhale sharply, hips twitching toward his palm.

“Oh?” he chuckles darkly, knuckles nudging the spot again. “Did niichan find something, baby?”

You don’t know, you’re not sure, you try to tell him, but all you can seem to manage is pathetic little whines while you nod your head.

“Have you ever touched yourself?” he’s asking as the pads of his fingers tap against that spot, your entire body jolting.

“Y-Yes,” you whimper out, a little breathlessly. “But it’s never felt like this,”

“Aw, baby,” he coos, and it’s so condescending. “Then you weren’t doing it right, sweetheart,”

He quickens his pace, chuckles at the way you try to desperately fuck yourself on his fingers at such an awkward angle.

“Poor little thing, can’t even get herself off properly,” he tsks. “You need your niichan to do it for you, don’t you?”

Soft whines spill from your throat as you nod eagerly, your stomach coiling tightly.

“One day,” he breathes, curling his fingers with a vengeance this time, your hips rolling up off the mattress. “When we have the time, I’ll teach you how to make yourself feel so good,”

He’s talking too much. You want to tell him this, tell him to shut the hell up, but every time you try to speak he presses the heel of his palm to your clit and grinds against it, effectively scattering all of your thoughts, soft mewls of niichan the only sound escaping your lips.

Can’t deny his voice is fucking hot though, a form of foreplay all on its own.

And he knows this, can read you like a goddamn book, especially when he’s got his fingers two knuckles deep inside of you. He can feel it, he tells you. You don’t even need to speak; he can feel your thoughts when his voice drops an octave and your cute little hole flutters, when he chuckles and your pussy clenches around his fingers—a slut for his voice, aren’t you?

“Pretty baby, you can’t do anything but nod dumbly, can you? Been fucked stupid by my fingers alone, huh?”

Your head barely moves, lost all control of your body by this point, only able to whimper in response.

“Gonna come all over my fingers, pretty girl?” the knuckle of his thumb begins grazing your clit in quick strokes. “C’mon, make a mess for niichan,”

And it’s pathetic, how quickly your body obeys. Your pussy squeezes once, twice, three times and you’re gushing all over his fingers, juices collecting in his palm, running down his wrist. You’re embarrassed—you’ve never cum that much before, have you?

Breathing still ragged, you nuzzle into his sheets, partially hiding your face from him. Nothing could hide the involuntary grin that forms on your lips, though. Arms snake under your boneless body, tugging a bit.

“Oh no, baby, we aren’t done yet,” Touya’s saying while he hoists you up, letting you lean heavily against him.

Head tilting in confusion, your glazed eyes find his. “Wh-What?”

He looks down at his lap and your gaze follows, a tiny whimper slipping past your lips at the bulge straining against his pants. “Doesn’t niichan deserve a nice reward for helping you forget that scary dream?”

Eyes darting back to his, you nod slowly, whispering out, “Yes. But—But…” But you’re hesitant; you’ve never done anything like this before. Shaking hands reach for the waistband of his pants, beginning to pull them down but freezing when the head of his cock peeks out.

Touya sighs. “Come on, you wanna be a good girl for niichan, don’t you?”

Of course. Of courses you do.

Then he wants you to touch him, he says. He’ll help you; he promises.

“But you gotta get it wet first,”

You ask how, and he laughs at you. “With your tongue, stupid,” he tells you.

He instructs you to kneel on the floor and you comply immediately, trembling legs folding beneath your body as you situate yourself between his knees. He inches forward on the bed a little, shuffling himself to the edge and caging you between his thighs. Bringing his cock close to your mouth, he taps the head against your closed lips.

They part instantly, obediently, his eyes flashing with something sinister as you take the head into your mouth and suck hesitantly, big eyes staring up at him waiting for approval.

He curses, his hips twitching ever so slightly, skin stretched taut over bony knuckles as a hand forms a fist in the sheets. Starting with kitten licks at first, the tip of your tongue barely touches him, tracing veins, then begins to gain more confidence as he groans a little, telling you what to you, that you’re doing good, so good for him.

Watching him through thick lashes, you have the audacity to look bashful as your tongue laves around the shaft, drenching it in saliva. A hand tangles in your hair and yanks, pulling you off his cock when he decides it’s sufficiently wet enough. Long fingers encircle your wrist, bringing your hand to form a fist around him.

“Like this,” he says, jerking your hand up and down.

You’re terrible at it, movements awkward and uncoordinated, but in that moment he doesn’t really care. He’s irritated a little, wondering out loud how anyone can be bad at handjobs while a large hand wraps around yours and forces you to speed up. Bad? Your heart sinks at the small three letter word, a hard lump forming in your throat, looking as though you may start crying.

But he cums quickly after that, ropes of searing hot white painting your cheeks and face. You watch him the entire time, panting a little, lips parted slightly and your tongue darts out to lick them, tasting him.

He laughs at your bitter reaction, and it’s such a patronizing sound.

“Don’t worry,” he says, collecting the cum off your face and forcing his fingers into your mouth. “Someday I’ll stuff your throat full of it.”

✰ ✰ ✰

You can no longer mention needing—no, wanting—anything around him anymore, because within the next few days it’s sitting pretty and perfect on your bed, propped up against your lace trimmed pillows.

He’s so good to you; you should be grateful you have such a generous niichan, one who eats you out and spoils you with gifts. You’re so spoiled.

And he tells you this, in the dead of night when you wake to find him shoving his cock into you, snarling a little at your soft whines of protest.

“Don’t be a brat,” he warns. Just be a good girl and take his cock. He does so much for you, can’t you be good for him?

Yes, yes, you want to be good for him, you want to be the best for him.

By this point you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve woken up in the middle of the night with his head between your thighs, prepping you to take him.

“Stay sleeping, baby,” he’ll tell you, words whispered into your hair as his cockhead nudges against your hole.

As if you could ever stay sleeping when only a few minutes later he’s pounding you into oblivion, large hand clasped over your mouth so tightly his blunt nails are digging into your cheek, so hard that it’s yanking your head back, neck beginning to ache.

He tells you to be quiet, “You don’t want anyone to hear, do you? Then we’d have to stop, and you don’t want that, right, sweetheart?”

You don’t, you whimper. Of course you don’t—you want whatever he wants, you want to be his perfect little baby, you want to be told how good you take his cock, the praise mumbled against your skin in a low, strained voice right before he fills you with cum.

✰ ✰ ✰

He disappears for a few days near the end of December. You have no idea where, Touya answering your curious texts with playful quips at first before he grows tired of it and tells you to stop fucking asking.

But eventually, he returns.

The front door slams shut and your body flinches with a jolt of excitement. Adrenaline spikes your blood when you hear his heavy boots colliding with the hardwood, getting louder, louder, louder…

He passes right by you, not glancing at you at all. Moments later, the sound of water hitting the tiled shower wall echoes down the hallway.

And you wait. Patiently, you wait, like the good little girl you are, not daring to move a muscle. Eventually he re-emerges, hair still damp, a few strands sticking to his neck.

With a groan, he collapses on the couch next to you, flopping his head into your lap and gazing up at you with glazed, blown sapphire eyes.

“You’re high,” you say softly, not accusatory, just an observation. He giggles a little.

“So what if I am?”

“What did you take?”

“Oh,” he gasps mockingly. “Oh no, baby, I can’t tell you that,”

Why? The question is burning on the tip of your tongue, and you can tell that he’s anticipating that to be your next response, but you bite down on your bottom lip, holding it in. You know his answer already, can practically hear his patronizing voice—Because good baby sisters aren’t supposed to know about stuff like this.

“Can I try some?” you ask instead.

All of the mirth fades from his eyes in an instant, and he moves in a flash despite his inebriated state, so quick you can barely tell what’s happening. His large hand wraps around your bicep in a bruising grasp, pulling you towards him as he sits up, his face an inch away from yours.

“Absolutely fucking not,” he spits, cobalt eyes blazing and voice rumbling against your chest. “And if I so much as catch wind that you’re using, have a mere feeling that you’ve tried it—even just once—I’ll slaughter you and the fucker you got it from. Do you understand me?”

Surprised tears spring into your eyes and you nod jerkily, body beginning to tremble as your breath gets caught in your throat. You want to tell him that you didn’t mean it, honest, you promise!; that you were just kidding around, you swear!, but you can’t, voice mangling itself with the hitched little breaths on the back of your tongue.

He growls at your silence, his grip around your arm tightening and you cry out, terrified that he might actually crush the bone with his bare hand.

“Say, yes Touya, I understand,”

“Y-Yes Touya, I understand,” you manage to stutter out, voice returning only at the command of a direct order, tears spilling over and rolling down your cheeks in pairs. His eyes search your face for a moment, his features contorted in fury, before he sneers at you, squeezing your arm once then roughly letting go, shoving you away from him.

You fall backward against the arm of the couch, heart thumping so vigorously you’re sure he can hear it. He groans, throwing his head back and closing his eyes, exasperated.

“Fuck,” he sighs, eyes opening to glare at the ceiling. “You’ve ruined my high,”

You stare at him, breath coming out in uneven huffs, clinging to the couch.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whisper, terrified to move lest you upset him more.

He’s silent for a moment, still staring up, until he lolls his head to the side, glancing at you through the corner of his eye. A small smirk spreads across his face.

“C’mere,” he says, nodding his head a little in indication.

“Wh-What?”

“C’mere,” he repeats. “Come make it up to me,”

Your body’s moving before you’ve given it permission to, crawling into his lap obediently, thighs on either side of his hips. His smirk widens, and you love it—you love how much control he has over you without even trying, you love the way a quiet whimper slips through your lips as his large hands begin kneading your flesh, running up your legs and grabbing your ass.

Lips trail up the column of your neck, and you tilt your head back, a silent plea for more. You can feel the way his lips curl into a grin against your skin, nipping at it a second later.

“So, how you gonna make it up to me? Huh?” he shifts his hips under you, pressing his hard cock into your clothed core. You whine a little, grinding against him.

“I’ve got a few ideas,” you breathe out while sharp teeth mar your collarbone.

“The hell you waiting for? Show me,”

You begin sliding down his body and he pushes on your shoulders, forcing you to your knees between his spread thighs. He watches you through half-lidded eyes, gaping pupils outlined by a thin ring of blue.

Holding his gaze, you lean forward with your pretty little tongue hanging out and begin licking along the straining bulge, tracing it slowly, the denim rough against your sensitive muscle. You relent though, lapping at his clothed cock in slow, long strokes, and his jeans are just thin enough for you to feel him pulse in response.

A giggle bubbles up past your lips, muffled by the denim, already beginning to feel heady as you pull simple reactions from him. Your mouth forms a cute little ‘o’ and you suck on him the best you can through his jeans, drooling all over his lap and soaking through the material.

The hand in your hair tightens into a fist, yanking hard and pulling your mouth away. “Stop fucking teasing,” he warns, a hint of something ominous in his voice.

You obey, because you always obey, tiny fingers working to quickly unbuckle his belt, pop the button, yank down the zipper. He aids you, lifting his hips and allowing you to tug his jeans down his thighs enough for his cock to spring out.

His own hand wraps around the shaft, you pausing mid-action as you reach for it.

“Open,” he demands, your dutiful lips parting immediately, letting him push his cock into the warm, wet cavern.

He sets a brutal, punishing pace from the start, refusing to give you a single moment to adjust. His other hand fists in your hair, forcing you to stay still as he rams his cock down your throat.

Reflexive tears burn your eyes, blurring your vision. You blink quickly to clear them, desperate to watch him, to catalogue all of his micro-expressions and the sound of his voice as he grunts out your name, to burn it into your mind, etch it into your very soul.

Touya’s head falls back against the couch, Adams apple bobbling with his rough whimpers, long neck and sharp collarbone on full display. If your mouth wasn’t otherwise occupied, you’d love to lick up his smooth skin, to trace the dips of his collarbone with your tongue and sign your name in brilliant splotches of blue and purple.

You’re gagging around his cock now, starting to feel lightheaded and struggling to inhale enough oxygen. The ache in your jaw is beginning to spread, but you ignore it, stretching your mouth open wider, to take more, to be good for him, to make him proud. It’s worth it for the hoarse, throaty moans you’re pulling from him, to hear your name shuddered out, followed by a breathy, “Fuck,”

He forces hot cum down your throat a moment later, and you choke on it, sputtering around his cock, throat spasming as it tries to force the foreign object out. He won’t let it, though. He holds your head in place, nose pressed against his pubic bone, and you can do nothing but take it, like a good little girl, like he tells you to.

But it’s all worth it. It’s all worth it, to hear his broken whines like that, to have him look down at you and pull your hair and tell you you’re good, so good for him.

And you’re sobbing by the end of it, gasping for air the moment he lets go of you, wheezing violently as your head collapses against his thigh.

“Did I—” you cough, voice raspy from having your throat fucked raw, “—Did I make it up to you, niichan?” you gaze up at him, eyelashes spiky with residual water. You’re the perfect picture of obedience, strands of hair stuck to your face where your salty tears have dried and swollen lips gleaming with saliva as you watch him with glittering eyes, waiting desperately for his praise.

He looks down at you, eyes devious and diabolical, chest heaving a little. “Of course you did,” he tells you, corners of his lips tugging up into a sharp smirk as you melt into him. “You always do, don’t you?”

#todoroki touya x reader #todoroki touya #dabi x reader #dabi smut #touya x reader #dabi may be a scumbag but he loves his momma #tomura baby i’m so sorry #promise u don’t horrify me at all oof #pls come horrify me more #christ if dabi isn’t touya we’re all gonna look like goddamn fools #a buncha clowns #anyway this is my first time posting something like this #n i haven’t written smut in an extremely long time #so pls be nice #actually u should always be nice #so pls be extra nice #no one beta’d this so there’s a good chance i’ll come back to it n revise it or whatever idk i’m just sick of looking at it rn #the ‘he talks too much’ is inspired by ch 271 w hawks where he’s all ‘he’ll keep talking’#dabi shut the fuck up challenge #prone to monologuing this boy is #also sorry abt the crazy sentences with a thousand commas #apparently now i’m oscar wilde w these run on sentences #idk i still kinda like em tho #i like oscar #tw pseudo-incest #tw noncon #tw dubcon #tw emotional manipulation #tw somnophilia #tw drugs

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ao719 · 3 years

Text

Prank War

Happy Birthday, Burns!

Burnsy! So, as you know, this is not what I had originally planned, but I am weak and I thankfully totally chickened out. So I talked to Gen, and we decided to combine forces for this one. It’s our usual ridiculousness and utter shenanigans.

I hope you know how much we both adore you! Thank you for all the laughs you’ve given us, and for your friendship, and we hope that your birthday is absolutely wonderful! ❤️

A/N: this was a collaboration written with my favorite asshole, @cocomaxley! Love youuu! And huge thanks to @emichelle for prereading and everyone else who read snippets along the way.

Inside his study, Liam sat at his desk, mulling over paperwork on a quiet Friday afternoon. The silence had been few and far between the past few weeks, and it was more than a welcomed reprieve.

Not for long.

A loud shriek out in the hall caused Liam to snap his head up and quickly rise from his chair. He rushed towards his door and flung it open just in time to see a blur of blonde hair whiz past him, followed by streaks of blue and green.

Charlotte screamed as Carl chased her down the corridor, screeching loudly. Liam slowly turned his head when he heard the familiar laugh of his old friend; Drake walked down the hall, letting out a loud guffaw as he clutched his stomach. Liam closed his eyes and shook his head before looking over at Bastien, who was trying -- and failing -- not to laugh at the Queen being chased by the angry peafowl.

“Bastien! Get the damned bird!” he barked before looking over at Drake as he approached him. “Really?”

“I had him …” Drake trailed off as he doubled forward, resting his hand on Liam’s shoulder as he laughed. “I had him locked in her study. So when she came back from her meeting with Regina …” Drake chuckled as he mocked Charlotte’s face when she opened her door, finding a less than pleased Carl on the other side.

“Don’t you two think this prank war has gone on long enough?”

“Nope. She’s the one who suggested that it not stop until one of us declares the other the winner. I’m no quitter!”

“You two are ridiculous!”

They both glanced over upon hearing the stomping of Charlotte’s feet; her hair was disheveled with a stray feather of Carl’s stuck to her shirt as she scowled at Drake. “HE PECKED MY BOOB!” At her words, Drake let out a bark of laughter as he threw his head back. “I fell when I rounded the corner, and he ATTACKED me! Look! That little fucker put a hole in my shirt!” She pointed to the spot on her chest where her red lace bra peaked out through the torn fabric. She looked at Drake, who fell back against the wall, still laughing. “You’re such a dick.”

“Just say I won,” Drake chuckled.

“No way! It’s soooo on!” She brushed by them and stalked back towards her study.

“Hasn’t it been on?” Liam asked incredulously. He didn’t understand what else they could possibly do to prank one another.

It started three weeks ago after a night of drinking when Drake, who was in a rare state of playfulness, replaced Charlotte’s sugar with salt. One does not interfere with the Queen and her morning cup of coffee, especially when she’s hung-over.

That’s all it took for Charlotte to declare a prank war on Drake. She fired back by saran wrapping his truck. It took Drake two hours to get it all off because she didn’t simply wrap it around the vehicle like some amateur. No, not Charlotte. She wrapped the doors shut by throwing it over and underneath it, crisscrossing it in every direction … in multiple layers.

Drake retaliated by tinting Charlotte’s moisturizer blue and proceeded to call her a smurf for two days until it finally faded.

A few days later, Charlotte parked Drake’s truck in the middle of the lawn in the front of the palace. He told her it was a lame prank that did absolutely nothing. When he got in it to move it, the sprinklers went off, and he was in the center of their target area with all of his windows down.

After two weeks of small, harmless pranks that included pink hair dye in Charlotte’s shampoo and cutting out circles in the chest of all Drake’s T-shirts, Drake and Charlotte agreed that they weren’t going to stop until one of them gave up and declared the other the winner. That only upped the ante of their pranks and spurred them on, both too stubborn and too competitive to wave their white flag and take the loss.

Now it was full-on war. And they didn’t care who got stuck in their crossfire.

“We’re still on for poker tonight with Max and Bas, right?” Drake asked through a chuckle as he turned back to Liam.

“Yes. If I can manage to get this paperwork done.” Liam gave Drake a knowing look.

****

That evening, Maxwell and Drake met Liam and Bastien in his study, where he had set up the poker table for their usual Friday night game. The bar cart was stocked, and Liam had the kitchen staff bring up trays of snacks for them to munch on.

“How’s Carl doing, Max?” Bastien asked. Drake chuckled as he poured himself a finger of whiskey.

“He was in a mood! When I left, Bertrand was yelling at him to quiet down, but he just kept getting louder and louder.”

“How’s Brooks?” Drake snorted.

“She claims to be traumatized by Carl chasing her earlier,” Liam answered as he rolled his eyes at her dramatics. “Can you pour me a glass, too?” he asked Drake.

“Of whiskey?”

“Yeah, I feel like switching it up tonight.”

Drake brought over the two glasses of whiskey and set them on the table before settling in his seat while Bastien finished shuffling the cards and dealt the first hand. Liam and Drake clinked their glasses before taking a swallow of the amber liquid.

****

A couple of hours into their game, Liam and Drake sat slumped in their seats, and Bastien gave them a curious look. Their faces were pale and clammy, with sweat beading their brows. They didn’t look right. “Are you two alright?”

“I feel … really fucking weird,” Drake groaned. His stomach gurgled, and he closed his mouth as bile rose in his throat.

“Yeah, I’m not feeling so well,” Liam said quietly as he closed his eyes. He covered his mouth with his hand, feeling like he was going to be sick.

Suddenly, the study door flung open, and the men all glanced over to see a grinning Charlotte stride into the room. “Hello, boys,” she chirped. Her eyes were already on her target. “Drake … you don’t look so hot.”

Drake knew at that moment she had done something. “What the fuck … did you do, Brooks?”

Charlotte smiled victoriously and brandished a small bottle in her hand from behind her back. Maxwell squinted as he leaned forward in his seat to read the label. “Castor oil?”

“Yeah! I put some in the whiskey earlier … I heard it has some great benefits for things like skin and hair.”

Bastien shot up from his chair. “Your Majesty, for it to work on skin and hair, you must put it directly on the skin or hair!”

“Oh … my bad,” she smiled.

“Ohhh, I gotta go!” Drake flew up from his seat and rushed out of the room, grabbing his ass with his hand as he went.

Charlotte stared down at the bottle in her hand. “Oh … I see now. It says here that it can also work as a laxative when ingested … can cause nausea and vomiting. Oops …”

“Charlotte!” Liam growled through a groan. She finally looked at him for the first time since entering his study. Her eyes slightly widened when she took him in; his forehead was glistening with sweat, and his face was pale.

Charlotte couldn’t stop the loud snort that escaped her. “Oh my god! Did you drink the whiskey too?”

Before Liam could answer, he reached over and grabbed the small trash bin near the table, losing the contents of his stomach immediately. “Yes,” he grumbled with his head hung inside the container. “Did you not think … that someone else … might have whiskey?” he asked before hurling again.

“Honestly, it was a risk I was willing to take. Pranks are not for the faint of heart, my King.” Liam slowly lifted his eyes to her, wearing an angry scowl, but she was too proud not to smile. “Just call me Prank Sinatra,” she laughed.

*******

A few days after the castor oil fiasco, Drake walked through the halls of the palace with a brown paper bag in his hand. He was meeting Charlotte and Liam for breakfast that morning. When he entered the dining hall, the staff was setting up the royal couple’s breakfast. He smiled at them as he took his seat, placing the bag on the table next to him.

One of the women smiled at him. “Mr. Walker, would you like me to take that and put it on a serving plate?”

Drake shook his head. “No, thank you. This is for Her Majesty.”

Once the staff left, he hurried over to Charlotte’s seat, dumping out the contents of the bag. He popped the lid off of the container, revealing what he had finely chopped the previous evening. Looking at the food laid on the table, his eyes landed on the bowl of oatmeal. Drake quickly poured what was in the tupperware into the bowl and mixed it thoroughly; it was a minuscule amount, and he was assured that the Queen would be just fine. He could hear Charlotte and Liam approaching the dining room through the rear doors. To avoid suspicion, he ran out through the main doors, then walked back as though he had just arrived.

Charlotte flashed a wide, toothy grin. “How’s your tummy, Drake? Is it all better?”

Drake rolled his eyes. “I’ll admit, you got me good, Brooks.”

The trio sat around the table and began to scoop food onto their plates. Drake tried to keep his face neutral as he watched Charlotte take a large scoop of oatmeal into her bowl. She took a bite of it and nodded her head. “Wow, this is really good today! It’s already sweet, and I didn’t even add brown sugar to it. Almost … fruity.”

At the end of the meal, the staff came back to clear away the dishes. Charlotte cleared her throat. “Ahem. Achhh, accchh … ahem.”

Liam looked up at her briefly, and she pointed to her neck. “Stupid tickle in my throat.”

As Charlotte continued to try and clear her throat, Liam furrowed his brows, noticing blotchy red patches on her chest. “Are you alright?”

“Howy thit, ith it hot in hewe?” Her eyes widened when she realized what was happening. “DWAKE, YOU ATHOWE! YOU PUT DWIED THWUIT IN MY OATMEAW?”

Drake smiled smugly at her. “You’re damn right I did! I was on the toilet for two days straight! I think that was worse than being cavity searched.”

Liam jumped up from his seat. “Drake! Her face is swelling! We should go to the hospital! Right now!”

Liam pulled out his cell phone and began to dial Bastien’s number. Charlotte waved her hand at him as she pulled out an EpiPen from her purse. “Don’t wowwy, Whiam. I have one oth thethe now. Wemembeh thith, Dwake? When it wath thtuck in yow hand and you thainted?”

Drake’s eyes snapped to the needle in Charlotte’s hand. His heart raced as he relived the memory.

Charlotte tried to narrow her puffy eyes at her friend. “Thith wathn’t even that good oth a pwank. I mean, I’m pwepaiwed and evwething.”

“Drake, what the hell were you thinking giving her dried fruit?” Liam demanded.

“Relax, Li. I called our good doctor pal, Zaid, last night. I asked him -- hypothetically speaking, of course -- if Charlotte were to ingest a minimal amount of dried fruit if it could potentially kill her …”

“KILL HER?” Liam looked at him incredulously.

“Lucky for me, Dr. Ramsey happened to be with Zaid at the time … and he said as long as she had her EpiPen, she should be fine, and that small amount shouldn’t do much harm.” Drake left out the part where Ethan had asked if this was truly a hypothetically speaking question.

“This prank war has gone far enough! You two are acting completely insane and bringing physical HARM to one another!”

“Ohhh nooo,” Charlotte shook her head after injecting the EpiPen into her thigh. “Thith ith thaw thowm oveh!”

Liam tensed his jaw as he stared at his wife’s still swollen face. “I am telling you, enough is enough! This needs to end!”

“You awe not the bauth of me!” Charlotte retorted before turning her attention to Drake. “And wemembeh, Walkeh, paybackth awe a bith.” As she enunciated the last word, spit flew out her mouth and onto the table.

“Drake!” Liam turned to him, hoping he would be the bigger person and end this, knowing Charlotte wouldn’t.

“Look! She is fine! Her left eye is already smaller … a little,” Drake snorted. He looked back at Liam, who was not finding any of this amusing. “I told you the other day; I’m not a quitter! You want this to be over? Tell your wife to call it.”

Charlotte glared at him. “Ith oveh when I thay ith oveh, Dwake.”

*******

A couple of nights later, Charlotte had purposely fallen asleep on the sofa in the living area of her and Liam’s quarters. She had set an alarm that she didn’t want Liam to hear. In the early morning hours, she snuck out of the palace undetected and drove over to Drake’s cabin; she parked the SUV at the end of his driveway to not wake him up and crept up the gravel pathway to his front porch with a large bag in hand. She pulled the spare key she had taken from Liam’s keyring out of her pocket and quietly unlocked the door, and slipped inside.

An hour later, Charlotte -- much to her surprise -- had managed to finish her project, only coming out with a couple of injuries. She crept down the hall from Drake’s bedroom, shaking the pain from her fingers as she snuck back outside, making sure to lock the door on her way out.

Charlotte arrived back at the palace just as the sun started to rise. She changed into her pajamas and ruffled her hair to make it appear like she had just woken up. She then rushed into her and Liam’s bedroom.

“Liam!” she screeched.

The sound of her shrill voice caused Liam to fly straight up in bed. “What? What’s the matter?”

“I don’t know! Drake just called me and said he needed you to come to his cabin. He wouldn’t tell me what was wrong, but he said it was an emergency.”

The worry in her tone caused Liam concern, and he flew out of bed. Within minutes he was dressed; he kissed Charlotte on the cheek and rushed out of their quarters. Charlotte grinned and fell back onto the bed, slipping beneath the blankets.

****

Liam and Bastien arrived at Drake’s cabin, both in a panic over what was wrong. Drake always kept his phone on silent, so it came as no surprise to either of them that he didn’t answer any of their calls on the way over.

They rushed up to the front door, and Liam went to grab his spare key, but it was gone. He banged his fist on the door. “Drake! Are you alright?” When no one answered, Liam hit the door again, more urgently this time. “DRAKE!”

Inside his cabin, Drake woke with a start at hearing the loud banging on his door. “What the-” He flung the covers off and swung his legs over the edge, quickly standing.

Outside, Bastien and Liam could hear Drake screaming inside, along with an odd snapping noise and loud thuds, as if he kept falling. “Drake!” Liam shouted. He was only met with more screams and thuds … until it went silent.

A few moments later, they heard footsteps getting closer, then the click of the door unlocking. Drake opened the door, standing in his boxers and looking more pissed off than either of them had ever seen him before. Liam noticed the mouse trap dangling from the hem of his boxers, and his eyes widened.

Charlotte had covered his entire bedroom floor with them. The minute Drake’s feet touched the ground, they began snapping in a ripple effect. The pain from them snapping on his toes caused him to fall, which only led to more snapping onto the rest of him.

Both Bastien and Liam quickly realized what Charlotte had done and Liam held his hands up defensively. “Drake … we didn’t know … I swear!”

“Her …” Bastien trailed off, coughing to cover up his laugh. “Her Majesty said … that there was an emergency …”

Drake’s chest was rising and falling in deep breaths as he tensed his jaw. Bastien’s eyes trailed up from his feet to his bare legs, which were littered with red welted blotches, before they fell on his chest. He cocked his head slightly to the side, wondering if Drake just didn’t realize it because he was in pain or if he had just become numb to all the snaps. The head guard tentatively reached out and grabbed hold of the trap that was dangling from the hair and a tiny piece of skin on Drake’s chest.

Bastien gave a quick tug.

“MOTHERFUC-” Drake growled as he rubbed his chest. Without another word, Drake stepped back and slammed the door shut.

*******

It was the day of the Five Kingdoms Festival, and Charlotte was excited as this was the first that she would be attending and that she had helped plan. It was time to enjoy the fruits of her labor after months of preparations.

Maxwell yelled from the kitchen in their quarters, “Come on, Charlotte! Hurry up already! I wanna play games and stuff.”

Charlotte took one last look at her reflection then joined Liam, Drake, and Maxwell. Maxwell was happily munching on a brownie. “Mmm, so good, Drake. Thanks for bringing these.”

Charlotte eyed Drake suspiciously. He chuckled as he passed her a brownie from the plate on the left. “I promise, no dried fruit. Call it a peace offering.”

She shrugged her shoulders and took a big bite. “OH MY GOD! This is the best brownie I’ve ever had.”

The friends finished their snacks, then made their way to the front door. I really wish I had another brownie. I could totally go get another brownie, Charlotte thought to herself. She squeezed Liam’s hand. “Hey, I forgot something upstairs.”

“What did you forget? I’m sure it can wait, love.”

“I forgot my phone, and I want to take pictures. I’ll be quick, I promise.”

Charlotte ran up the stairs and into her and Liam’s quarters. She saw two plates of brownies, remembering that the one Drake gave her was the plate with two left. “Hello, delicious morsels. I came back just for you,” she said to the brownies before quickly inhaling them.

Charlotte rejoined the men in the foyer. Liam took his wife by the hand, and together they exited the palace to loud applause from the gathered crowd. Cameras flashed, and reporters shouted out questions to the King and Queen. After a brief press conference, Charlotte yelled, “May the odds be ever in your favor!”

The friends went from booth to booth; Liam and Charlotte greeted different vendors and thanked them for showcasing their merchandise at the festival that day. As they walked, Charlotte began to laugh … at everything. What started out as small giggles quickly turned into barks.

Liam looked down at her as she laughed at a balloon floating behind one of the kids as they ran. “Are you alright?”

“I’m great!” she chuckled. “Are you alright?” He stared at her for a moment; her eyes seemed somewhat glassy and glazed over, but he shrugged it off to them being outside and the way the sunlight was hitting them.

Finally, they arrived at the tent where the apple bobbing game was located. Maxwell excitedly approached one of the large barrels. “Me and Charlotte versus Liam and Drake!”

Drake grunted in acknowledgment. “I’m just glad that I’m not paired with Charlotte. She’ll probably drown.”

Charlotte giggled uncontrollably. “You think you’re so funny. But you’re really not. You’re grumpy and mean. And not funny.” She slapped his chest before taking her place in front of the barrel next to Maxwell. Drake and Liam followed suit.

The vendor shouted, “On your mark, get set, go!”

The four friends dunked their heads. The men grabbed the apples as quickly as they could, moving them from the water to the empty bin next to it. This went on for several minutes. Despite being on the same team, Drake and Liam bobbed for their apples at lightning speed as though they were competing against each other.

“AND TIME’S UP!”

Liam looked over to Drake’s bin; it was filled with just about the same amount of apples as his was. He then glanced over at Charlotte’s empty bin; his eyes slid to the water-filled barrel. Her head was still submerged, and he could see little bubbles coming up to the surface.

“Charlotte!” He pulled her up by her shoulders.

Charlotte gasped for breath as she moved her hair from her face. “Did I win? Did I hold my breath the longest?” she grinned up at Liam. Her head and shirt were soaking wet, and her makeup was beginning to smudge.

Next to Liam, Drake tucked his lips between his teeth to fight back his laughter, knowing exactly why Charlotte was acting so strange.

Maxwell came up next to her and noticed the empty bin. “Aww, man! Charlotte, that’s not how you play this game! We lost!”

“Sorry, Max. I’ll make it up to you on the next one. Oooh, look, bows and arrows! Let’s go there!” She grabbed Maxwell by the hand and pulled him towards the archery booth. Drake watched in horror as she ran towards the weapons. Clearly, he hadn’t thought this through. She picked up the bow and was about to place the arrow when she felt them get yanked out of her grasp. “Hey! That one’s mine!” Charlotte turned to see Drake standing with her bow and her arrow.

“No! We are not doing this one. I will somehow wind up being your target. No, thank you.” He put them on the ground and redirected her to the beer tent. The bartender approached them as they took their seats at the bar. “What can I get you, Your Majesties and friends?”

Drake nodded his head at him. “Four Skullcracker Ales.”

Charlotte clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, which suddenly felt extremely dry. As soon as the drink was placed in front of her, she chugged it down. She slammed the glass down on the counter. “I’ll take another, stat!”

Liam chuckled. “Maybe we should pace ourselves, love.”

“I’m so thirsty, and this is actually really, really -” Charlotte let out a loud belch that caught everyone’s attention. All heads turned in the Queen’s direction as she giggled. “Excuse me … I have no idea what hap-” Another belch escaped mid-sentence, making her laugh even harder.

The bartender came back with her second drink that she quickly gulped down. Then he came back with a third, and then a fourth. When she tried to order another drink, Liam held up his hand. “She’s had enough. She’ll be passed out on the lawn in an hour if she has one more.”

Charlotte’s eyes fell on the carnival rides set up in the open field across the grounds. It was the one thing she had worked hardest on getting in that festival; it took Regina a lot of convincing before she finally got on board. “Let’s go on the rides now!” She stood up and grabbed Liam’s hand, pulling him towards the carnival rides. “Whoa, that stuff is strong, isn’t it? I’m a little wobbly. More than usual,” she laughed.

Liam looked at her, shaking his head. “Are you sure going on rides is a good idea after you just drank all of that?”

“It sounds like a great idea!” Drake chuckled.

“I get to ride with Charlotte!” Maxwell yelled, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her towards the Zero Gravity ride. Drake chuckled, knowing the spinning carnival ride was probably not going to end well.

Liam eyed Drake suspiciously, seeing the unusual grin his friend was wearing as they followed behind the other two. It was a grin that he had seen more than a few times ever since the start of this prank war between him and Charlotte. “Drake …”

Noticing the tone in Liam’s voice, Drake fixed his expression and looked at him. “What?”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing!” He smirked as he hurried in front of Liam to make sure he had a good spot to watch.

Charlotte and Maxwell buckled up on the ride. The operator spoke into the mic, “please keep your arms tucked in at all times.”

Charlotte’s arms immediately shot into the air, and Maxwell followed suit. The ride whirled to life as it slowly began to spin. Then it spun faster and faster and faster.

“Woooooooo!” Charlotte yelled. All of a sudden, her stomach began to turn. She wasn’t sure if it was the ride's velocity, the three brownies, or the four ales.

Maxwell yelled next to her, “This is awesome! Faster! Fast-”

Maxwell was cut off when he felt a warm liquidy substance hit his face. He looked over at Charlotte, who was vomiting next to him. “Ahhhhh! Make it stop! STOP THE RIDE!”

Liam and Drake waited for the other two at the ride exit. Charlotte was walking unsteadily, swaying from side to side. Maxwell was doubled over in the bushes dry heaving. An orange stain was apparent on his black shirt and in his dark hair.

“I don’t feel so good …” Charlotte said quietly, followed by a burp. Her face was a slight shade of green.

Drake burst out laughing. “Serves you right for mixing alcohol with the special brownies. Not to mention a spinning ride. You had it coming, Brooks.”

Charlotte gasped. “You said they were a peace offering!”

Drake continued to laugh, his eyes now welling with happy tears. “I lied.”

“You’re dead, Drake. De-” Before she could finish her sentence, her stomach turned again, and Drake’s eyes widened in horror as she vomited all over his shoes.

Liam looked at his wife and best friend, waving his arms in front of him. “You both deserve all of this!”

*******

The following day, Charlotte and Maxwell arrived at Drake’s cabin. They were both hungover and extremely butthurt about the previous day’s events. The pair hopped out of the black SUV, determined to end -- and win -- this prank war. Charlotte had planned her revenge early that morning, calling in every favor she could. She knew that Drake would be away all day because he was going to pick up a new horse for the palace stables.

A few moments later, that hard work had paid off as a truck arrived and began to back into Drake’s driveway. The driver and another man stepped out of the vehicle and approached her. “Ma’am, where would you like the … erm … goods?”

“Just unload them in the driveway. I’ll take it from here, gentlemen. And thank you.”

Charlotte beamed at the pallet of fireworks in front of her. “Here’s the plan, Max. We will put all of these around Drake’s house. I watched some YouTube videos on how to make them all go at once from a single fuse.” She clapped her hands together. “Tonight, after dark, we will come back here and watch the Walker residence light up all of Cordonia.”

Charlotte and Maxwell did a final walk around the cabin to ensure everything was in place and discreet. Charlotte didn’t want their handiwork to be noticed before she could put the proverbial nail in Drake’s coffin.

“Great job, Max! We will meet back here at 9 o’clock. But remember to park on the street. That way, it doesn’t tip that asshole off.”

****

Drake arrived home earlier than planned; he had expected the job to take much longer than it did. When he got out of his truck, he noticed large tire tracks in his driveway along with a large square shape indented in the gravel. His spidey senses started tingling, so he decided to take a walk around the property. This has Charlotte written all over it. Too bad she was sloppy, he thought to himself.

Drake spotted the roman candles and bottle rockets staked in the ground along the perimeter of his house. They weren’t obvious, and had he come back after dark like he was supposed to, he surely wouldn’t have noticed them. Drake looked around to see if she was nearby, ready to ignite the fuse. Unsure if she was still there, he walked stealthily toward the treeline. He found a clearing that looked like it had been set up as a hiding spot. Two chairs, a cooler, basket, and a tripod were set up and waiting. These dumbasses left their lawn chairs and snacks.

Knowing that the coast was clear, Drake rearranged the fireworks. When he was done, he admired his handiwork and pulled out his cell phone.

Liam answered his phone. “What’s up, Drake?”

Drake couldn’t contain his joy. “Hey, buddy, do you and Bas want to come over tonight and have a few beers with me?”

Hearing his friend’s eager tone, Liam knew something was up. “What are you really up to, Drake?”

“I’m about to win this prank war once and for all. And I’m going to light your wife up like the 4th of fucking July.”

****

Just after nightfall, Charlotte and Maxwell arrived back at Drake’s cabin and walked towards their hiding spot. Charlotte was ready. She was so excited to scare the ever-loving shit out of Drake and claim her crown as prank war Queen. The two settled into their chairs, and Charlotte pulled out binoculars to try to find Drake.

“There you are …” she said as she spotted him in the kitchen window, turning the knob on the binoculars to bring him better into focus. “Houston, we are ready for take-off … in three … two …” She flicked the lighter and grabbed the fuse, igniting the end of it. “One. Game over, Walker.”

The fuse began to spark and burn. She pressed the record button on her phone that was sitting on the tripod when all of a sudden, the fireworks began to shoot off all around them.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Charlotte and Maxwell shrieked in terror and took off running, screaming at the top of their lungs. Smoke, sparks, and loud pops surrounded them in a cocoon as they tried to run towards the cabin looking for cover. Every which way they turned to try and escape the circle of doom they found themselves in, more fireworks went off, blocking their way out.

Across the lawn, Drake and Liam were doubled forward, clutching their stomachs as they laughed, watching the two of them dodge the explosives. Next to Liam, Bastien held his phone in the air; the focus was blurry due to him shaking as he laughed while trying to record.

“Look at her! She looks like a chicken running!” Drake slapped his knee as he continued to laugh.

“Well, I certainly didn’t marry her because she was graceful, Drake.” Liam wiped the tears that streamed down his face.

After what felt like hours, the fireworks died down, and the smoke started to dissipate. Charlotte and Maxwell walked towards Drake’s back door, feeling defeated and wondering how the fuck their plan went so wrong. She stopped when she saw her husband, his best friend, and their head guard with tears in their eyes as they laughed.

“YOU! YOU ARE ...” Charlotte shrieked. “YOU! I CAN’T BELIEVE …” She was so angry she couldn’t form coherent sentences. “I COULD HAVE DIED!”

“We,” Maxwell grumbled. “We could have died.”

Drake snorted. “But you didn’t. So I’d call it an ok day for me.” Charlotte began to stomp towards the front of the cabin. “Hey, Brooks!” Drake called out after her.

Charlotte turned with a scowl on her face. “What?”

“Let me hear you say it,” Drake grinned smugly.

Charlotte flipped him off. “It’s not over-” All of a sudden, a rogue bottle rocket exploded next to her, making her jump. She held her arms up in defeat. “Ok, ok! You win, Drake. You win …” She turned and stalked towards the house as she whispered, “this time.”

****************************

Perma/Full Disclosure Tags: @leelee10898 @hopefulmoonobject @zaffrenotes @cocomaxley @gardeningourmet @blackcoffee85 @gibbles82 @annekebbphotography @sweetest-marbear @indiacater @liamxs-world @classylady1234 @texaskitten30 @thequeenofcronuts @custaroonie @moneyfordiamonds @the-soot-sprite @ladyangel70 @kate-mckenzie @emichelle @dcbbw @burnsoslow @bbrandy2002 @sirbeepsalot @choiceslife @debramcg1106 @gnatbrain @ofpixelsandscribbles @caroldxnvxrs @openheart12 @rigatonireid @callmeellabella @superharriet @seriouslybadchoices @aestheticartsx @forthebrokenheartedthings @kingliam2019 @indiana-jr @bascmve01 @rainbowsinthestorm @badchoicesposts @darley1101 @blackcatkita @charlotteg234 @alyssalauren @txemrn @neotericthemis @queenrileyrose @emkay512 @marshmallowsaremyfavorite

#happy birthday burns #trr #choices trr #the royal romance #choices the royal romance #trr liam #trr drake #trr mc #trr liam x mc #choices liam x mc #charlotte and drake #platonic love hate relationship #trr fanfic #trr fan fic #choices trr fanfic

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wild-flower-art · 4 years

Text

The Old Guard- Andy x Reader (F/F)

Guess who’s back and betta than evaaa? I’m so sorry it took me almost 2 whole ass months to post the 3rd chapter. With school starting up again, the part of uni I work at got fuckin hectic. Luckily that part of my life has settled a bit (for now), and now it’s time to get back on track in other parts of my life...writing being one of them. Enjoy!

Chapter 2

Chapter 3 – Help us (I think I’m sticking to 3rd-person POV-- 2,975 word count)

Darkness engulfs (y/n) as she enters the house, only able to see and follow the light from her flashlight. Her suit is weighing heavily on her body, her helmet obstructing her vision but protecting her all the same. She does her best to get out as quickly as possible, the SCBA tank only allowing for at least 30 minutes to get in, do her job, and get out. Some of (y/n)’s team are trying to extinguish the fire that just won’t let up, and the rest of them have been sent in to get people out. (Y/n) sees there’s a basement door in the kitchen. She radios in to her team that she’s going down. She can hear screams. Girls crying out for help. The further down into the basement she goes the darker it becomes. This is where the fire started. She reaches the bottom of the stairs and can hear the screams even louder now. Her flashlight shines on another door. That’s where they are. (Y/n) tries to calmly yet quickly get the door latches unlocked with her bolt cutters. Their screams are getting louder. They know they’re being saved. Before she can get the door open there’s an explosion behind her, knocking (y/n) forward…

She awakes with a start, having almost rolled off the bed. Her heart is racing, blood running cold through your body, left side of her torso throbbing with pain. (Y/n) is damp with sweat, soaking through her shirt. She searches for her lamp, but then remembers she’s not at home. She then reaches for a candle and lighter, flinching slightly at the sight of the flame.

It was just a dream.

…But it really wasn’t. It’s a memory that not even sleep can help her escape from. Before she can focus too much on what she did wrong, and what she could’ve done better, she hears a light tapping at the door. Her breathing hitches in her throat, but then releases itself when she realize it’s Nile, the light from the main room illuminating (y/n)’s—no, not her room—the guest room, probably. Not at all decorated or welcoming. It looks like a room used for storage, not being meant for personal use.

Nile whispers, “Hey, are you okay? I thought I heard crying.”

“Yeah, I’m fine, Nile. Thank you. Just a….bad dream.”

“You have those often?”

“Yeah, too often.”

“You’re not the most peaceful of sleepers then, huh? As an ex-Marine I know how that feels.”

“An ex-Marine?”

Nile stammers, “Oh, yeah, uh I was in for a few years before I got injured, and was uhmm discharged.” She tries to hold eye contact, but then looks away after a beat. (Y/n) feels like she overstepped a line she didn’t know existed.

“Oh…I’m sorry.”

“Nah, it’s okay. It was for the best, I’m sure. Maybe. I don’t know. Soooo....can I ask what you dream about?”

(y/n) sighs, “Before moving here to England I used to be a firefighter back home. We had been called out to the scene of a possible trafficking house the feds had been keeping an eye on. It had caught fire rather quickly, so we had to move just as fast, if not faster.”

(Y/n) looks down at her hands that she didn’t realize were clenched into fists. She inhales slowly so as not to cause more pain to her diaphragm, and on a shuddery exhale (y/n) releases the tension in her hands and shoulders. Fuck, my body hurts.

“I had gone down to the basement where I heard the screaming of young women and girls…kids…” A lump forms in her throat she tries to swallow down before continuing, “I was so close to getting them out, but then something went off behind me, knocking me forward. It felt like I was being tackled by a large animal or something, knocking me out cold. My dream usually ends there.”

“What happened after? In real life, I mean.”

“My team was able to get me out of there, the girls weren’t so lucky. The next thing I remember is waking up in a hospital bed about a week later. I quit shortly after when I heard the traffickers who had the girls in the house weren’t caught. I felt like I owed it to them to keep future girls from being victimized like that. I followed them here to England, but the trail ran cold about a month ago. I’ve been teaching self-defense classes to women, young girls, and non-binary kids since I’ve arrived here to be of use and pass the time, maybe make some money…oh shit, speaking of, where’s my phone? I need to contact my classes and cancel.” (Y/n) starts patting down her pockets and aimlessly checking the sheets and under pillows for her phone.

“Oh, uhm…I don’t remember you having a phone on you when we brought you. Maybe it fell out at the building?”

“Fuck. Well, I’ll contact them tomorrow when I leave from here.”

“Leave? No, you shouldn’t leave. You should stay until you’re healed up.”

“I don’t think your friends want me around for too long. I was gonna suggest I go to a hospital, but looks like you know your way around a bandage and sutures.” She says, examining her wound.

“Yeah, well, it helps to know those things out in the field. Anyway, please stay. We insist. And I’ll help you contact your class tomorrow. In the meantime, you should really get some rest. You look like shit.” She says the last part half-heartedly and with a smirk.

“Aw gee thanks, jerk”, (y/n) chuckles.

Nile starts to exit the room before (y/n) stops her. “Hey, Nile? I mean it, thank you.”

She smiles and nods before closing the door behind her. (Y/n) falls asleep as soon as her head hits the pillow and she closes her eyes, her body welcoming rest once again.

Nile makes her way up the stairs to her bedroom that she’s sharing with Andy since Andy gave (y/n) her room to recover in. That downstairs bedroom and couch in the livingroom give her easy access to the front and back doors in case something is amiss. It takes Andy too long to get settled, not used to resting in a room so far away from where possible intruders can enter. She starts to roll out of her makeshift bed to head downstairs, but Nile makes her way into the room, stopping Andy dead in her tracks.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She asks, hands on her hips.

“I can’t sleep in here, Nile. I’m sorry. I have to go downstairs and keep watch.”

“No, you don’t. Nicky and Joe agreed to take turns staying awake tonight. You need to learn how to relax. You can’t heal yourself the way we can anymore, so you need to give your body some time to rest so you don’t burn out. We’ve been over this! Any less sleep and you’ll look as exhausted as (Y/N). Jesus! You’re like a stubborn old person, too set in their w—“, before she can finish her reprimanding rant a pillow smacks her square in the face, earning a laugh from Andy, pleased that she caught Nile off guard.

“That’s not funny”, she says throwing the pillow back in Andy’s direction.

“Well, if it’s not funny then why am I still laughing?” Andy says between giggle fits. It’s becoming a common occurrence to see Andy like this. Lighthearted laughs and jokes that the guys said hadn’t ever happened this often, not in a long while, so Nile smiles and lets her have her moment before she has to dampen the mood.

“(Y/N) asked for her phone.” Andy stops laughing and instinctively reaches for the phone that lays in her coat pocket. “She teaches a self-defense class and needs to cancel for the next few days, maybe even weeks.”

“What did you tell her?”

“That I don’t remember seeing a phone when we brought her here and that she probably dropped it at the building…She doesn’t know who or what we are, so why are you keeping it?”

“You can never be too careful, Nile. She can’t just update people on where she is and expect people not to look for her. She might not know who we are, but we need to limit her access to the outside, at least for now.” This earns her an incredulous look from Nile. “Just trust me, okay?”

“Alright, boss. Now, can you please lay back down and get some sleep?” Nile asks as she gets into her bed.

It takes Andy a while to get settled, but when she finally does she can’t seem to manage to quiet her racing thoughts.

“I can hear you thinking, Andy! What is it?”

“You said if I didn’t get sleep I’d look as exhausted as (Y/N). What did you mean by that? Was she awake when you went downstairs to lock up?”

“Uhh, yeah. She was having a nightmare about something that happened when she was a firefighter. Just before she moved here her team was sent out to a burning building, turns out that was a trafficking holding house, possibly run by the same people who run the one we raided last night. But that’s just me putting two and two together. She said her trail ran cold, so she’s been keeping busy with her classes.”

“How much does she know?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t think to ask. She looked so tired and sad, I just needed to get out of her hair so she could rest. Now, sleep!” Nile tosses a pillow at Andy’s head this time.

Andy turned on to her side so Nile wouldn’t see her still awake. I should pick (Y/N)’s brain on what she knows about those people who set that house on fire. Maybe she can help us.

(Y/N) slept through the rest of the following day, not giving Andy time to ask her what she knows, but, instead, giving Andy time to talk to Nile, Joe, and Nicky about (Y/N) and if they think she’d be willing to help.

“She’s come this far to find out who hurt, and continues to hurt, those girls. I’m sure this will give her more purpose to continue on her journey”, Joe speaks up from behind his cup of coffee.

“Should we have Copley do some digging on her? Just to see where she comes from, and maybe find any paper trails to where she’s been following those disgusting human beings through?”, Nicky says as he makes his way back to the dining table, pulling a seat from across Joe and next to Andy.

“I contacted him earlier, he’s on it. He said he’d get back to us by the end of the day. Should be hearing from him any moment now.” Andy turns her head to look at her bedroom door. Still no movement. They’ve done multiple checks on (Y/N) throughout the day. Each time they were either met with groans, signaling them to go away, or with light snoring. With drool lightly dribbling from her mouth, she’s obviously getting the kind of rest Nile wishes Andy would allow herself to get. I’ll rest when I’m dead. Reminding herself and the team that she is on borrowed time, and she doesn’t want to waste whatever time she has left worrying about menial things like resting. Though (Y/N) makes it look so comfortable.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone look so peaceful while sleeping.

She’s shaken from her thoughts as Nile scoots out of her chair to stand. “Well, I’m off to bed.”

“We’ll head in for the night as well.” Joe says, getting up and wrapping his arm around Nicky and then rubbing the middle of his back.

“Goodnight, boss” they call out in unison as they head up the stairs.

“Night.”

It’s maybe about 45 minutes after the rest of the team has gone up to bed, and a couple of glasses of vodka later, that Andy receives a message from Copley with several attachments of what he found on (Y/N).

Here’s all I could find. Hope this will suffice.

Got it. She quickly types in response. She’s curious to open the files, but it’s getting late and she wants to look at this new information with the team. She double, triple checks and locks the doors, and makes sure the windows are all securely latched. She and Nile would be taking turns watching over the house, and she has first watch. She turns off all the lights, except for a lamp in the kitchen, and makes her way upstairs to grab a few things to hold her over for the next few hours. She isn’t upstairs for more than 5 minutes when she hears a door open and close, some carefully placed footsteps, and another door squeaking open before being lightly shut. Barefoot, Andy quickly and quietly grabs her labrys from its case, shoves a gun in her pants, and swiftly makes her way downstairs and out the front door.

She stops suddenly when she realizes it’s (Y/N) walking down the driveway. She runs over to her, fearing she might be in trouble. (Y/N) turns around in shock and almost screams, but grabs at her left side and hisses in pain, having twisted her body around too quickly.

Short of grabbing her arm, Andy quietly yet sternly asks, “Where the hell do you think you’re going? It’s dark out! You could get hurt! Do you not have any sense to just stay put?”

(Y/N) all but ignores Andy and turns back towards the driveway to continue walking.

Andy walks past (Y/N) and stands in front of her. “Hey, I’m talking to you! You’re not going anywhere until we know you’re okay!”

Trying in vain to push past Andy, (Y/N) replies, “I said I’d be gone as soon as I’m feeling better, and obviously I’m feeling a lot better, so if you don’t mind—.”

Andy scoffs and puts herself back in (Y/N)’s way and gently pokes at her upper left side just over her ribs, causing (Y/N) to wince and hiss in pain. “Yeah, obviously.”

“What the hell?!” (Y/N) grits through her teeth. “Do you treat everyone you help like this?”

“No, just the stubborn ones I believe have the ability to help us in return.”

(Y/N) squints at Andy incredulously, “Help you with what?”

“Help us find the guys who burned down that house with all those girls stuck inside.”

(Y/N) stands stock still and dumbfounded. “How do you know that?”

“Nile told us about your nightmares. I also had someone do some digging on you, so I’m sure those files will tell me the same thing.”

“You had someone ‘do some digging’ on me?! You guys are crazy! Now, please MOVE!”

(Y/N) shoves her hand against Andy’s shoulder and tries again to maneuver around her, using Andy’s height against her to juke her out. It almost works, but Andy is too quick to turn around and put her leg in front of (Y/N)’s leg to trip her and hook her arms around (Y/N)’s waste to keep her from falling forward. (Y/N) groans in pain and frustration as she places a heavy heel on Andy’s bare foot. With her heel still digging into Andy’s foot, (Y/N) leans her body back and shoves her hands up into the small space between her body and Andy’s arms. With a grunt she pushes her arms out, freeing herself from Andy’s grip as Andy falls backwards. Pleased with herself, (Y/N) quickly limps away from Andy, all the while Andy is on the ground smiling, trying not to laugh at the sorry sight in front of her. She gets up and half jogs up to (Y/N), catching up with her in just a few strides. To add insult to injury, Andy keeps a steady walking pace next to (Y/N), who has broken out into a sweat.

“So…where are we going?” Andy asks, trying not to laugh at how (Y/N)’s brows furrow with frustration.

(Y/N) responds with a roll of her eyes and a huff before pleading, “Please just go away and let me leave.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, (Y/N). We need your help and you clearly need ours. Please just come back to the house and get some rest…Do you even know where you are?”

“No idea.”

“Then how do you know where you’re going or if you’re going in the right direction?”

“I don’t, but if I keep walking I’ll get somewhere away from you guys.”

Andy picks up her pace and places herself in front of (Y/N) again, this time placing her hands on (Y/N)’s shoulders and meeting her (e/c) eyes. “Please. Help us find those girls.”

That’s all it takes for (Y/N) to give in. She puffs air out of her mouth and looks down at their feet. She notices a small bruise forming on Andy’s foot where her heel pressed down just a moment ago, a few scrapes marking her own. She feels a pull in her stomach, an obligation to those girls who needed her and a new obligation to the girls who still need her. She feels pressure building behind her eyes, her vision blurring, and her bottom lip slightly quivering. Fuck.

When she finally looks up her eyes are glossed over with unshed tears. Now’s not the time. She clears her throat and swallows hard. “Okay”, she finally whispers. And with that she turns around and walks back towards the house with Andy following close behind. They walk in silence until they reach the door. As (Y/N) reaches for the door handle, Andy places her hand over (Y/N)’s. Their eyes meet again as Andy whispers, “Thank you.” (Y/N) nods her head slightly before entering the house.

#the old guard #andromache x reader #the old guard imagine #andromache the scythian x reader #andy x reader

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musicprincess1990 · 4 years

Note

Hi! Are you still doing the trope duo list? 'coz I just found it this morning, and was hopping to make a request. I was going to ask for 41 and 43, then I thought, no... too obvious... then my head automatically goes to 1 and 2, but that's an easy one, so I end up with 1 and 11, would you take it? 😊

SHIT, HOW DID I MISS THIS??? I am soooo sorry for the wait, @rabbit-in-blue! Allow me to make it up to you with some Victorian!lock. I hope it will suffice!

1: Arranged Marriage; 11: Drunk!lock. Taken from my trope duo prompt list. As much fun as it’s been, I will not be accepting any more duo prompts at this time. I have one more overlooked prompt in my inbox that I will fill soon, then prompts will be closed for a while. Thanks everyone!

Alone No More

Molly awoke to the sound of a nearby thud and frowned into the darkness. Damned cat, she thought grumpily to herself, thinking Toby had gotten himself into some mischief or other. However, in the same moment that she realized Toby was, in fact, curled up against her leg, she heard another thud, followed by a colorful string of words spoken in a deep, very recognizable voice.

With a sigh, Molly slid from the warmth and comfort of her bed, pulling a thick tartan dressing gown on over her nightdress, before emerging into the sitting room and lighting the nearest lamp. Indeed, there was Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective, proper genius, and her husband, sprawled out on the floor like a sea star. Before she could verbalize her annoyance (or quiet amusement), she noticed a slow stream of blood making its way along his temple, beginning at his eyebrow. In addition, his eyes were shut, and he almost looked as though he might be unconscious. Molly sighed again, quickly turning back to retrieve a bowl of water, and the bandages she knew he kept in one of the kitchen cabinets for this very purpose.

As she knelt beside him, his eyes opened and shot to her so abruptly she gave a small start. He stared at her, his expression one of utter bewilderment. “You are bleeding,” she supplied an explanation, though he had not asked for one.

“That explains the headache,” he drawled.

She nearly smiled at him, the corners of her mouth twitching as she fought it. She could not explain it, but somehow, she felt if she laughed now, at this moment, it would suggest she approved of the situation—which she most certainly did not. Particularly now that she was close enough to smell the alcohol on his breath.

“It will be worse in the morning,” she pointed out sharply. “I didn’t think you liked to drink.”

Mr. Holmes scowled up at her. “I am not drunk. I had one—no, two—maybe three...” he trailed off, his brow crinkling as he tried to remember.

Molly raised an eyebrow. “If it is that difficult to recall, I’d wager you’ve had more than enough.” He rolled his eyes, then winced and hissed at the pain caused by the action. Part of her took a bit of petty satisfaction at this, knowing he had brought it upon himself, but she quickly silenced that part of herself. Deserved or not, he was injured and in pain, and he needed her help. Molly doused a bit of cloth in the water, wrung out the excess, and dabbed at the wound. He hissed again, but remained still. When the silence between them became strained, she asked, “How exactly did this happen?”

“Watson,” he muttered, and his eyes slid shut.

She frowned at him. “Watson… you mean your friend, Dr. Watson?”

He scoffed, and Molly grimaced at the more concentrated scent that wafted up to her nose. “I don’t have friends,” he slurred. “I have enemies and colleagues, and that is all it will ever be.” He laughed suddenly, but there was no humor in his voice. “According to Watson, I push everyone away, including my own wife!”

Molly stilled, a quiet gasp falling from her lips. She watched his face carefully, waiting for it to dawn on him that he was speaking of the very woman who was at this moment tending to his wound. When he gave no such indication, she returned to the task at hand, hoping to ignore the subject.

“He doesn’t understand,” her husband spoke again, his voice pitched low and rumbling. “Alone is what I have. Alone protects me.”

She paid no mind to the single tear that escaped from the corner of her eye and focused on applying the bandage. Molly had been under no illusions upon entering her marriage. Sherlock Holmes made his position on love abundantly clear from the moment they first met. The only reason they were married at all was because of their mothers. She knew not what threats Mrs. Holmes had imposed upon him, but they must have been dire indeed for him to have agreed to the union.

For Molly’s part, she had been aware of her family’s dwindling finances since her father died, leaving his widow and seventeen-year-old daughter with barely enough to survive. They had sold their home, and everything in it, save a recent portrait of the family of three, and a single suitcase full of her father’s favorite books. With that money, they bought a small, seaside cottage in Sussex, near Brighton, large enough only for the two of them. Molly and her mother learned to cook, clean, sew, light fires, and tend their small garden. She had also learned how to manage their finances, ensuring that they had enough to get by. And she learned they did not have sufficient funds to support themselves for long. Even with careful scrimping and saving, they would run out within a few short years.

The solution, her mother had told her, was clear: she would have to marry into money. Fortunately (or not so fortunate, depending on one’s viewpoint), Mrs. Hooper still maintained a steady friendship with one Violet Holmes, who was eager to see her younger son married and settled. His inheritance was certainly less than what his elder brother, Mycroft, would receive, but the wealth of the Holmes family was quite substantial, and her marriage to the younger son would secure her well-being, and her mother’s, for many years to come. In any case, the elder Mr. Holmes had married the previous year, and was therefore not an option. Thus, she was promised, and duly married, to Sherlock Holmes.

Had she known what it would be like… had she suspected she would fall in love with the man…

No, she shook her head. That knowledge would not have swayed her decision. To refuse would be unforgivably selfish, as it was not merely her own situation under threat. Though her unrequited feelings weighed on her heart, she could never have done such a thing to her mother. A heavy heart was a struggle, but one she could bear. Would bear. No matter how infuriating her husband could be.

As if he knew her thoughts had strayed to him, Mr. Holmes opened his eyes again, his gaze landing upon her face. Something in those eyes made her pause, her fingers still resting against his forehead, and found herself quite unable to move. The air grew thick with mounting tension, and Molly knew… something was about to change.

“Why do you stay?” he breathed.

Molly blinked, frowning in confusion. “Your wound needs tending”

“No,” he shook his head. Slowly, he shifted into an upright position, his eyes never straying from hers for a moment. Her throat grew dry as he leaned forward, inspecting her as though she were the most fascinating, bewildering puzzle. “Why do you stay with me?”

Her heart thundered in her chest, and she drew a trembling breath through her lips. “You are my husband.”

“Mycroft sees his wife twice each year—on Christmas Day, and on our mother’s birthday—and the remainder of the year, they live in separate homes, corresponding through the occasional letter. Husband and wife are under no true obligations to one another, except those the law dictates.” His eyes narrowed at her. “Why. Do. You. Stay?”

His meaning became clear to her then; he did not want her. He wished for her to leave. Another tear made its presence known, and she turned her head to hide its descent. “If that is the sort of marriage you wish for,” she breathed, heart crumbling even as she spoke, “I will make arrangements to leave tomorrow.”

Molly moved away from him, unable to stomach the inevitable look of relief that would undoubtedly be written across his handsome face. She was stopped, however, by a large, warm hand lightly encircling her wrist. She looked down at it, then swallowed as she turned her eyes to the owner of the hand, and was astonished to find not relief, but fear. Wild and furious panic blazed in his ice-colored eyes, the muscles in his jaw twitching.

“Mr. Holmes—” she began, but she was unable to finish her sentence as his free hand reached out, and the pads of his fingers lightly traced the contours of her face. Molly drew a trembling breath, stunned by the contact.

He had not touched her since their wedding day, and one could hardly consider the quick, perfunctory pressing of his lips to hers as a real kiss. At the time, she had thought nothing of it, having no more desire for his touch than he had desire to give it. Her love for him had built slowly, so gradually that she could not determine a precise beginning. Indeed, she had no notion of the change of her feelings, until the truth of them washed over her like the waves of the sea—sudden, bracing, overpowering. And despite his indifference toward her, it only served to grow over time.

And now, almost a year later, he was touching her, and she had to fight to keep her wits about her.

“Can it be…?” he whispered, leaning closer still. “Is it possible, after all this time, all that you have endured, that you might… choose to be here?”

Molly heard the true question hidden behind his words, and her breath caught. She searched his eyes, still wide and panicked, looking for any sign of indifference in him, and found none whatsoever. He was afraid, yes, but in those crystalline eyes, fear mingled with desperate hope, the same hope she now felt bubbling up inside of her.

It was neither a declaration, nor a grand romantic gesture, but such things were not in his nature. This, however, the look in his eyes, the warmth of his touch… was more than enough.

“Yes,” she answered him finally, baring her heart to him with a single word, and praying he would not trample it with his usual cutting words.

Mercifully, he seemed to have no intention of doing so. The hopeful embers dancing in his gaze were fanned into a blaze, and in a move as fast as lightning, his hand cradled the back of her head and guided her lips to his. The fire transferred into her through the contact, warming every inch of her, burning ever hotter with his continued touch. Her hands moved of their own accord to his chest, relishing the feel of his racing heart beneath the tips of her fingers. Not so indifferent, she thought with a smile.

Sherlock felt her smile and drew his head back to look at her. “Something amusing?”

Feeling emboldened, Molly inched closer, settling herself into his lap. Her hands slid up around his neck and into the soft curls at the back of his head. He sucked in a breath, eyes darkening with unmistakable lust. She stopped just shy of kissing him, her lips hovering teasingly over his. “I believe,” she murmured, “you like me, Mr. Holmes.”

His answering grin was decidedly wolfish as he wrapped his arms around her. “An excellent deduction, Mrs. Holmes,” he replied, and moved to kiss her again, grunting in frustration when she leaned away

“Even though ‘alone is what you have’?” she quoted with a wry smile. “‘Alone protects you’?”

“Oh, sod what I said,” he grumbled, yanking her back towards him until her chest was flush against his, and the wall that had stood between them crumbled into dust and rubble. “I’ve pushed you away long enough. No more.”

Molly was moved to tears once again, though these were a much happier sort. “Thank God,” she breathed, and his mouth captured hers once again. He tasted of brandy and cigars and Sherlock, and she had never tasted anything so mouth-wateringly delicious. His hands roamed her back, her sides, her neck, while hers buried themselves in his hair. When she experimentally curled her fingers and lightly scraped his scalp with her nails, he groaned his approval into her mouth. Then, in one astonishingly deft movement, he was on his feet, sweeping her up into his arms.

“I hope you don’t mind, Molly,” he said in a low growl, “but I’d very much like to take you to bed.”

Giggling softly, she pressed a fervent kiss to his lips. “Get on with it, then.”

#sherlolly #my writing #sherlolly trope duos #trope duos #prompts are closed #too many wips #thanks all

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artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

7 Minutes in Heaven (Naochi) - Minty

It was the end of the night and all the queens had performed their energetic, comedic shows. The club was empty apart from a few drunks who lingered around till they got kicked out. Kim and the rest of the group got out of drag eagerly, wanting to take a well-deserved break. Naomi and Kim always shared a dressing room since they were best friends. Kim was in the middle of a Korean skincare routine, when something in the mirror caught his eye.

Naomi undressing in the corner of the room.

Usually he had no problem with his friends being half-naked as it was normal for all of them. Recently though, it started to feel different with Naomi, butterflies filling Kim’s stomach. Kim had come to the conclusion that he had feelings for his best friend but, not wanting to ruin their friendship, he painfully kept quiet.

The younger queen confidently got unchanged as Kim just ogled carefully, not wanting to be noticed. Such smooth skin with hardly any blemishes, legs that went on and on, a small delicate frame. Kim was in awe of all of the beauty but felt a bit weird for watching so long, so left to find Bob in a hurry.

Walking down the hallway, looking for Bob was easy. Just follow the loud voice that was usually screaming Monet’s name. He ended up at the dressing room at the end of the building and burst in with no warning causing Bob and Monet to jump.

“PLEASE DON’T KILL US!” screeched Monet, holding up a brush for a weapon. The other two queens plugged their ears in response to a sound only dogs could hear.

Bob rubbed his ears in a soothing motion. “I know some of us impersonate women for a living, but do we have to scream like that one annoying girl in a cheesy horror movie?” Kim chuckled at the remark causing the other queen to go in a huff.

“Least I aint a crunchy bitch like YOU!” the annoyed queen exclaimed, putting a large emphasis on the end. Bob rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“Well this “crunchy bitch” won first time and didn’t have to come back for ru-demption. Did she?” He clapped back, widening his eyes at Monet. After some silence both just smirked at each other. They were like siblings, constantly in a rivalry but secretly caring for one another.

Kim flopped on the couch, sighing in relief that they could all just relax and hang out.

“Where are all the others?” asked Kim.

Bob replied “Ummm, Acid is still de-dragging, Roxxxy, I think is at the buffet table and Milk is in the bathroom.” Kim hummed back at the information given, feeling a little stung by the last name.

Milk was a really nice guy, always helping others, charming and was by god soooo handsome! This annoyed him as he knew that his best friend and secret crush thought

those things about Milk too. Naomi and Milk had gotten close on the Christmas tour and hooked up, not being able to deny the sexual tension between them. It was safe to say Kim was a little jealous when it came to another person slobbering over the long-legged beauty. These conflicting thoughts were interrupted when Kim was suddenly attacked by a wig.

“KIM! KIM! KIMBERLY! I WAS TRYING TO ASK YOU SOMETHING, BUT YOUR’E IGNORING ME!” Bob yelled at the daydreamer. “Okay, I’ll ask a third time.” He sighed. “Where is Naomi?”

“Oh, r-right umm,” Kim stuttered getting his bearings together after being ambushed. “Last time I saw her, she was getting undressed.” The other two in the room grinned ear to ear at each other.

“So, you were watching Naomi get undressed, were you?” Asked Monet curiously.

Kim in reply looked shocked but knew that he was guilty of watching his friend get undressed. But he definitely wasn’t going to tell these two that.

“No, why would you think that i-“ Kim stopped himself mid-rant, quickly realizing that now that popping off was a tad bit suspicious as both queens raised their eyebrows at their now high-pitched friend.

“You were, weren’t you? It’s ok if you did, you’re human and Naomi is hot both ways.” Stated Bob winking at Kim. Kim felt a little queasy at the thought of Bob and Monet being onto him. If they were then Naomi could be too.

The room turned quiet. Real quiet. Bob saw that his friend was visually uncomfortable with the previous conversation but needed to know one thing that was floating around in his brain.

He opened his mouth hesitantly before speaking.

“Kim…do you like, have a crush on Naomi?

Kim shyly nodded his head, as a shade of red began to creep across his face.

“Aww, that’s so cute Kimmy. We shou-“ Monet squealed but stopped promptly, eyes fixed out to the hallway. Kim slowly turned his head, seeing Naomi strutting towards the dressing room.

“We’ll talk about it later, be quiet for now, please.” Kim pleaded. They all nodded in agreement before Naomi gracefully walked in, plopping himself down on the couch by Kim’s side.

The younger queen looked around in confusion, wondering why they were all of his normally chatty friends were so quiet.

“You guys okay? Something bad happen?”

“No, the opposite actually” Bob replied with a smirk before getting an elbow to the rib from Kim. Naomi smiled but wasn’t so sure if they were being honest.

Soon after the rest of the performers entered the room, bored out of their minds, looking for something to do. Milk proposed that they all come back to his hotel room for a little party since the show went extremely well. Acid was confident “Party” meant orgy, everyone just laughed and got Ubers.

Naomi and Kim shared an Uber and without any of the other queens it was full of awkwardness. The older man didn’t really know what to say, if he did speak, he would probably end up saying something stupid, so he stayed silent. The younger man looked over to the side to see his friend turning away from him, he started to think he had done something wrong for his BFF to act like this. He attempted to broach the silence.

“So…Kim…ummm, do you think you did good tonight?” Drawled Naomi, reaching for some sort of conversation to block out the driver’s bad taste in music.

“Uh, yeah I think I did really well and you did even better.”

“Oh thanks, you’re so sweet.”

Naomi smiled to himself, happy that Kim was finally talking to him. Kim smiled to himself, happy that he had just being called sweet by his crush. They continued their chat about the show till they got to the hotel. Naomi, being a gentleman, paid for the cab refusing Kim’s offer. He was the sweet one.

Both of them made their way to Milk’s hotel room on the top floor (of course it was the top floor, drag queens love to show off) and entered the room to loud music, alcohol and good friends.

“Hey, you made it! We thought you guys had went off to kai kai.” Milk jokingly said, embracing both queens, clearly drunk.

“Not yet Milk, not yet.” Monet chuckled as the two BFF’s stared at each other for a second longer than what was considered normal for friends. Roxxxy butted in, handing them some sort of weird beverage. Neither one of them had ever drank banana beer before. They took a swig, which resulted Kim gagging and Naomi reluctantly swallowing the vile drink.

“That’s the most disgusting thing that’s ever been in my mouth.”

“You’re lucky, there’s been a lot of worse things in my mouth.” Naomi flippantly commented. The queens laughed at their reactions.

Soon the alcohol started to kick in and all of them got up to dance with no regrets. Kim’s head started to feel a little fuzzy so she stayed still as the rest of them pranced around like fairies. It wasn’t that Kim didn’t want to dance, it was just that his clumsiness added together with beer did not result in good dancing. Hell, it didn’t even result in good standing! However, Naomi looked just at home, swaying and bouncing to the music. It was a good view until Milk started to get closer. Till their bodies were touching, no space in between. The beauty moved his hands up to the back of the other guy’s head whilst the beast grinded. Kim felt himself getting angry and switched off the music at the socket, making it look like it had suddenly stopped by itself. Everyone stopped dancing and sat down.

“I’m soooo b-bored!” Complained Roxxxy. They all moaned in unison.

Bob quickly sat up, flailing his arms for attention. “We should play a game!” Everyone smiled at him hoping for some good entertainment. “We should play seven minutes in heaven!” he hiccupped.

“UHGGG! Really, Bob?” groaned Naomi, rolling her eyes so far back she could see her brain, but most would argue that there was nothing there. “We aren’t in the sixth grade.”

“Whaaat? It might be a good way to get some feelings out.” Bob looked at Kim hoping he would agree to the game.

“Lets just play and get this over with… but how do we choose who to go in with?” asked Kim

Bob told motioned everyone into a circle and spun a bottle for demonstration. All of them agreed that this was a fair way to decide. Acid spun first and it landed on Roxxxy. A chorus of ooooooo’s filled the room as the two of them went into the closet. It took about 30 seconds before the group heard grunting and moans. They all laughed at the weird sex noises being made like they were middle schoolers. After the timer ended Bob yelled for them to come out.

“COME OUT WITH YOUR CLOTHES ON!” clasping his fingers together in the shape of a pistol. The queens left the closet looking very red and breathless.

“Please tell me you had lube.” Milk tittered as Acid pulled out a small bottle of lube.

“I’m always prepared.”

Both sat down and the game continued. 20 minutes had passed and it hadn’t landed on the two friends, hopefully that wouldn’t be the case soon. It was Naomi’s turn to spin but before he did milk licked his ear and whispered into it.

“Get ready baby boy.”

Maybe it was just Kim but his friend didn’t look comfortable at all with what Milk just did. The now uncomfortable guy spun the bottle hoping it didn’t land on the creep next to him. it felt like it wasn’t going to stop. But it did. He tilted his head up slowly to the direction it pointed to. It had landed on best friend in the entire world. It had landed on Kim. They both smiled at each other before Naomi stood up and grabbed Kim’s hand. Bob and Monet held each other in excitement for what was happening. Timidly, the pair walked into the closet closing the door slowly. It was cramped and dark but they were still able to see each other’s faces.

“So, this is exciting isn’t it?”

“yeah, I can’t contain myself.”

They snickered at their sarcasm, lightning the mood a little. To Kim, this was the perfect opportunity to tell Naomi how he really feels. There was privacy and the darkness could hide the prominent blush on his face.

“Naomi?”

“Yes, Kimberly Chi?”

“I need to tell you something, something that I’ve been wanting to say since we finished filming drag race…”

“Sang I’m scared, are you dying?” Kim was a little confused for a second on who Sang was but his airhead-self remembered it was his boy name, its just that his drag friends didn’t usually call him that. He chuckled at his idiot self and the dramatic question.

“No, I’m not dying!” the younger queen sighed in relief, hand over his heart. Kim grabbed his hands and looked at them.

“I-I really like you Davis, love you actually.” There was a pause. “You make me feel so safe and special and happy and-“ Kim stopped talking when he realised that Naomi had moved in closer, smiling so brightly it lit up the dark closet.

“Well I happy to hear that because I feel the exact same way. I can be myself when I’m around you, I can be a-“

“Goofy dork?”

Naomi scoffed. “Yes, that.”

They looked into each other’s eyes, squeezing each other’s hands. Kim let go and moved his hands up to the taller man’s neck, gripping gently pulling him closer and closer till he could feel Naomi’s breath on his face. Their heads began to tilt slightly to the side and closed their eyes. Naomi’s hands resting on Kim’s hips, he pulled the smaller queen up to connect their lips. It felt so sweet and so perfect. Kim sucked softly on Naomi’s plump bottom lip, adding pressure as the other queen pulled Kim closer till their bodies were touching, no space in between. Both of them had been wanting this for years, so they lingered for a while before slowly pulling apart, out of breath. Again, they looked into each other’s eyes but then there was a loud voice that startled them.

“Your seven minutes in heaven are up!”

“No, our times just begun…” Naomi quickly grabs a char and props it under the door handle, trapping them inside. “Now, where were we?” He asks as he wraps himself around Kim and passionately kisses his new lover, both excited for the future and their newly-found love. Not even Milk or a timer could ruin it.

#rpdr fanfiction #kim chi #naomi smalls #naochi #fluff #canon compliant #minty #7 minutes #s8

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hiddenleafstoryteller · 4 years

Note

Can i ask 💙,🖤 and ❤️ for Kankuro pls??

Okay so I went a lil’ overboard on this length wise but oof once my brain got the idea I had to type it!

I hope you enjoy!

💙 “Soooo who was that?”

🖤 “Jealousy? That word isn’t even in my vocabulary!”

❤️ “You’re cute, even when your face looks like that”

Thank you for the request anon!

Word Count: 2,803

TW: Child Loss

Squicks: Crude Humor, Alchohol mention, fighting

[Y/N] glared up at the gates of Sunagakure and shook her head as she adjusted her hood, trying to deflect the glare of the sun. It had been an entire year since she had had this much sand trapped in her shoes and the sensation was far from pleasant.

She steps through the large wooden door and begins her walk towards the office of the Kazekage. The village had barely changed since the last time she had walked it’s narrow streets, but she had.

Rounding the corner into the marketplace she ganders amongst the wares, pausing at her old favorite booth.

“[Y/N]? Yours is a face I never expected to see gazing over my jewelry again.” A cheerful voice calls out as she looks up into the face of the cheerful old woman who often provided [Y/N] with beautiful gemstones. They were common in the desert, and the old woman just always seemed to find the very best ones.

“I’m on a mission, I’ve been spent to speak with the Kazekage.” [Y/N] explains and watches as the woman’s smile falters slightly.

“Ah, I had hoped…-” She trails off, a soft glance down at the young girls left hand, “-Ah! None the matter, only the ramblings of an old woman!”

[Y/N] gives a soft smile before picking up a small carved Jade flower and looks at the delicate little trinket in her palm.

“How much?” She looks up into the old woman’s eyes, who chuckles softly.

“For you? Nothing.” The old woman closes [Y/N]’s hand around the green stone, and [Y/N] gasps softly.

“But-” She goes to protest but the woman cuts her off.

“I’ve missed the happiness you brought to this village, and the smiles you gave to people.” She explains slowly, “He hasn’t been the same, you know.”

The last sentence hits [Y/N]’s soul, causing her to close her eyes for a moment to keep her composer.

“I must be going. Thank you for my gift.” She hurries away from the booth, dropping the flower into the pocket on her flak jacket, as she speeds down the main road to the offices.

He hasn’t been the same, you know.

The words echoed in her mind as she steps into the cool building. She removes her head covering as she pulls her [Y/H/C] braid out from being tucked in the hood. She glances in the mirror as the electric lights cause a shimmer to glow across the symbol of her beloved hidden leaf village.

She steps down the hallway towards the door of the Kazekage’s office, her footsteps echoing along the empty corridor.

Taking a deep breath, she slowly raises her fist to deliver three quick knocks to the door.

“Enter!” Gaara’s usual sullen voice calls out from behind the door, and [Y/N] opens it.

“[Y/N]!” Gaara exclaims as she walks inside and shuts the door behind her, “When the Hokage said she was sending someone, I never expected, it’s a relief to see you.” The words rushed out of Gaara’s mouth as he was quick to give the familiar girl a hug.

After all, she had been engaged to his brother only a year ago.

“It’s a relief to see you as well Gaara, I’m sorry I didn’t write.” She stands up and faces the red haired boy who had almost become her brother and let out a deep sigh.

“I-I don’t blame you at all, after what….happened.” His voice falters and she nods, sitting down in the chair in front of his desk.

“Shall we discuss the Hokages message then?” Her voice is curt as she desperately tries to change the subject. Gaara sits across from her as they begin to discuss the current state of affairs of their respective villages.

A short time later a door hidden in the wall of Gaara’s office swings open and Temari stepped into the office, a folder of papers in her hand.

“Gaara, will you be home for dinner tonight? Kankuro is bringing that new girlfr-” Her sentence is cut short as she stares at [Y/N] in a mixture of joy and shock.

[Y/N] gives a soft laugh, “You know Temari, it’s amazing how someone can still look so cute with their face looking like that.” She teases her long time friend as they pull each other into a hug. Unlike Gaara’s hug, Temari’s wasn’t awkward, she really needed it just as much as [Y/N] did.

“You are the sunshine I needed to see today!” Temari says as they pull away from each other and [Y/N] sits back in her chair.

“I probably won’t make it to dinner tonight, [Y/N] and I have a lot of work to do.” Gaara says gesturing to the papers that now littered his usually neat desk.

“Are you going to be staying in your old apartment? I think it’s still the same as when you left.” Temari asks and [Y/N] shrugs.

“Probably, I’m expecting a fellow shinobi to be arriving any minute now and that place has two bedrooms.” [Y/N] explains as she begins to stack up her papers.

“Anyone we know?” Temari asks as she joins them at Gaara’s desk.

“Oh, just Sasuke,- ” [Y/N] says as she pulls out a pen from her pocket and starts to underline things on the paper in front of her, “-We’ve been partnered on a few missions lately, we’re leaving for another mission as soon as I’m done here.”

Gaara lets out a cough, as he and Temari exchange a look.

“Maybe dinner wouldn’t be half bad,-” Gaara says as he stands up, “-please join us [Y/N] it will be nice having you in the house again.’

“Oh, I don’t think that would be a good ide-” [Y/N] begins to protest but Temari shakes her head.

“If Kankuro says a damn thing to you, I’ll kick his ass myself.” She nods in her friends direction, who takes a deep breath.

“Fine, just let me go shower first.” [Y/N] groans inwardly and stands up, pulling her hood back over her face.

“And don’t worry Tem, if Kankuro says anything to me, I might just kill him myself.” She smirks and steps out into the hallway.

———————————————————-—-—––

The hot water of her shower brought ease to [Y/N]’s tensed shoulders as she tried to calm herself down.

He hasn’t been the same, you know.

[Y/N] punches the wall of the shower, she didn’t want to think about him. As her hand began to throb she felt a tight pain in her lower abdomen and her hand finds its way to the series of scars that littered her stomach.

They hardly ever hurt anymore.

Although there wasn’t a day that went by where she didn’t think of where they had come from and the repercussions they had had. She brushes her teeth in the shower, a quirk she had picked up while living here.

Quick showers and brushing your teeth at the same time to conserve water.

“Showering together is the best way to conserve water.” Kankuro had used to tease her when they first met. Sometimes she missed his sense of humor.

After drying off, she wraps herself in her black silken robe and sits in front of her vanity. Seeing her [light/tan/dark] skin in the glow of nothing but the vanity lights gave a very eerie effect to her already sullen face. The year had taken its toll on her, not holding back at all.

She begins to brush out her hair, deciding to wear it up in a tight bun instead of her usual braid. It takes a few tries before she’s happy with the result, she moves onto her makeup. When she’s satisfied with her presentation she walks over to her closet full of clothes she hadn’t seen in a year.

She had never cleaned her apartment in Sunagakure, after all she was the elected diplomat between the two villages under Lady Tsunade. [Y/N] was grateful that the fifth hokage hadn’t pulled her out of the position after last year's attack on the village hidden in the sand.

The year off had been filled with recovery, both physically and mentally, back home in the leaf village where [Y/N] had been born.

[Y/N] changes into a dark green dress that was hugged her curves gently, and a pair of black thigh high leather boots. They had been a gift from Temari for her twenty-first birthday.

She walks through the kitchen, making sure she has everything she needs for the night when she hears a heavy knock on the front door. She has a grip on the kunai hidden in her belt as she turns the doorknob.

“Oh, Sasuke!” She lets out a sigh of relief as her comrade smiles at her as his gaze wanders up and down her body.

“You look incredible [Y/N], what’s the occasion?” He asks as he steps inside, tossing his bag onto the table in the kitchen.

“A dinner party with lord kazekage and his siblings, you’re welcome to join.’ She says as he looks up at her.

“You aren’t nervous about seeing Kankuro?” He questions and she sighs, her gaze falling to a photograph that was framed on a shelf.

“You two looked very happy.” Sasuke observes as the photo of [Y/N] and Kankuro the day they had gotten engaged.

She takes the photo and tips it down so that she doesn’t have to look.

“It’s the past Sasuke, and besides, he has a new girlfriend according to Temari.” [Y/N] remarks as she grabs her keys and heads to the door again.

The two friends step out into the street as the sun started to dip down on the horizon, a cool breeze brushes through the usually scorching desert.

“You ready for this?” Sasuke asks as they stand in front of Gaara’s front door.

[Y/N] shrugs, “We’ll see.”

Sasuke knocks on the door and it opens soon to reveal Temari who smiles at the two of them.

“Come in! It’s good to see you again Sasuke.” She says as they walk through the front hall and into the dining room.

[Y/N] and Kankuro make eye contact from across the table as an awkward feeling began to take over the room.

“Hello.” She says simply as Sasuke pulls out a chair for her. She thanks him and sits down. A clatter from across the table causes her to look up to see Kankuro had knocked over his glass which had made contact with his plate.

“Sasuke, [Y/N], it’s good to see you.” Kankuro says as he sits up in his chair. The girl to his right, clears her throat and she makes eye contact with [Y/N].

“[Y/N]? Your ex-fiance [Y/N]?” She asks her lips pressing into a thin line and [Y/N] looks down at her plate, her jaw clenched.

“And a dear family friend.” Gaara says coldly and [Y/N] smirks slightly as she turns and starts to talk with Sasuke and Temari.

Dinner goes smoothly, [Y/N] catches Kankuro staring at her from time to time but she tries her best to appear unbothered. As the meal draws to a close, she steals away to the kitchen with Gaara who offers her a drink.

“She is revolting.” He mumbled against his glass as he takes a sip and she chuckles against hers.

“Kank seems happy.” She comments and Gaara shakes his head.

“You haven’t seen him as much as I have [Y/N], he’s changed so much since the attack.” Gaara goes on and [Y/N] sighs, glancing out the window.

“I saw the way you were looking at her Kankuro!” The shrill voice cuts through the conversation [Y/N] is having with Gaara. They both exchange a look and head back out to the dining room where Kankuro stands on one side of the room and his girlfriend on the other.

Kankuro looked on the verge of tears and his girlfriend was using that to her advantage.

“You’re not over her, and you expect to just be okay with her being around here? We’re leaving!” She goes to storm past him and he doesn’t move.

“I’m not leaving.” He says bluntly and [Y/N] gasps softly as the scene unfolds.

“Excuse me?” The girl glares at him and turns back to face him,

“I said I am not leaving.” His voice is firm and he looks directly at her.

She raises her hand as if to strike him and [Y/N] bursts forward and grabs her wrist, stopping her slap midair.

“I suggest you leave now.” [Y/N] hissed through gritted teeth as she shoved the girl forward and towards the door.

The other girl laughs and glares directly into [Y/N]’s eyes, “You may be a better shinobi than I am, but at least I would be able to protect my child.” She pulls her hand away from [Y/N]’s grasp before storming out into the night.

She turns around to finally face Kankuro with an entire years worth of baggage in her gaze.

“I’m sorry.” The two words fall heavy from her lips, “ I don’t think she likes me very much.”

She was sorry.

Sorry for running away.

Sorry for breaking off the engagement.

Sorry for trying to pretend she was okay.

Sorry for not being able to protect-

“I will never blame you for what happened that day [Y/N].” Kankuro’s voice is barely above a whisper as he steps towards her.

[Y/N] pushes past him and walks towards the backdoor. She hoped some fresh air would do her mind well as she steps into the cool dark desert night. She pulls a cigarette and lighter out of her purse slowly and lights one.

She had picked up a few bad habits over the year.

Kankuro follows her moments later, he steps onto the porch and stands by the door awkwardly.

“So, who was she?” [Y/N] nods her head back towards the door as he steps closer to her. His purple face paint looked ghastly against his sullen skin.

“A girl from the village, nothing really special.” He comments and sits with her on the steps.

“Special enough to bring around your siblings.” She replies and he reaches for a smoke.

“Just enough to patch the void that you left.” He mutters as he lights his cigarette.

“Ouch.” She chuckles as she takes along drag.

“So, you and Sasuke huh?” He questions and [Y/N] raises an eyebrow.

“Why? You jealous?” She teases him softly before giving a soft cough as she inhales again.

“Jealousy? You know that word isn’t in my vocabulary poppet.” He chuckles as he stares out into the night, the cigarette slowly burning away in his grasp.

“No, we aren’t a thing. He’s just my escort for the next mission.” [Y/N] extinguishes her cigarette before putting the butt back into the pack.

“I do wish you had stayed. You’re not the only one who lost something that day.” She hears the falter in his voice and the tears jump to her eyes.

“I don’t want to talk about it Kank.” She says and goes to stand up but he grabs her hand.

“[Y/N], our baby was real. You can’t just try and pretend that it never happened, that isn’t healthy!” He exclaims and she feels the tears stream down her face.

“I may not understand exactly how you feel but I watched the love of my life almost die, I lost my first born before I even was able to meet them.” His voice cracks as he grips onto her hand.

“I killed him you know, the rogue ninja that stabbed you” His voice changes as he says this, an icy chill creeps over [Y/N]’s spine.

“I had heard rumors.” She admits and he nods as she sits back with him.

“[Y/N], do you think our baby knew how much we loved them?” He asks suddenly and she feels her stomach lurch and she closes her eyes.

“They knew. The entire village loved that baby.” She smiles as she thinks back, they had just announced the pregnancy the week prior. Their engagement had been the most exciting news for the village hidden in the sand, followed by a practically royal baby? Both villages had mourned along with the young couple

“I still love you Kankuro.” She whispers as she looks at him and he smiles.

“I never stopped loving you,-” He replies before kissing her cheek gently, “-The ring is still in my workshop, and I hope someday it will be back on your finger poppet.”

#tw: child loss #kankuro #kankuro imagine #naruto imagines #unlisted

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nothing-fancy94 · 4 years

Photo

Soooo... You guys liked it, and asked for more, and so here I am with part 2 of my little Shadamy short, where our fav hogs have an unknown, shared past, which left one bitter and the other... well we haven’t found that out quite yet.

As always thanks to my support team, @mysuperlaserpiss @another-sonic-blog and @lonelysadblob my cove of palm trees that always inspire me.

I look forward to hearing what you all think of this next part :)

........................................

Lost Time - Part 2

Shadow smashed the door to the G.U.N. offices open with such a fury that a chill spread through the entire floor. He passed by the many cubicles lining the middle of the floor, ignoring the array of frightened and annoyed gazes. Being on the job for so long, and never failing at a mission had given him a corner office in the back, which he appreciated for its seclusion and privacy. So, on a day like today, he could simply lock himself inside with the blinds shut, and no one dared to bother him.

Just as he had finished shutting the last of his shades, he heard the click of his supposedly locked door as it opened. If possible, his mood darkened even more, for he knew only one person could pick his lock as though he'd left the key in the knob.

"Hey, hon! How's my favorite hedgie doing this morning?" Rouge the Bat announced as she sauntered into his office as though she owned it.

Shadow brought his hands to his forehead and made his way to his desk which sat in the far side and next to the large windows which looked out over the city. Once seated in his chair, he finally brought his attention back to bat who was wandering about his office and touching all of his books and decorations.

"What is it that you want, bat?" He asked, frustration dripping in his voice. He didn't want to deal with the other crazy female in his life, not after the shit he had gone through this morning.

Rouge sighed and dropped the generic bust of a head that had come with the office, back onto it's shelf. She made her way to the other side of his desk and plopped down into a chair. She sucked the right side of her lip, and looked at him with an almost nervous gaze. However, Rouge was rarely nervous, hesitant maybe, but her personality never let her dwell long on anything.

"Well..." She started, and sat back in her chair folding her arms, "I'm throwing a party tomorrow tonight... in celebration of an old friend returning home, and I thought you might want to come."

Shadow scoffed. It was almost hilarious, this situation. He'd never seen Rouge beat around the bush before, but he supposed that was to be expected when it came to the bombshell that was Amy Rose. He grunted and folded his arms as he looked her over,

"And what made you think that I would have even the slightest interest in going to one of your ridiculous parties. Besides it's most likely for someone I don't even know."

He almost laughed out loud at the guilt that appeared on her face. He had never known his oldest partner to feel guilty about anything, and she was the one who had stolen the Master Emerald before and almost caused the collapse of the human world with Dr. Eggman. This was certainly interesting. Amy sure had a way of bringing out sides of people that were never before seen. And not their good sides either.

Shadow rose from his chair and made his way around the desk. "Look, I was going to let you fumble around some more, since it's quite amusing to see you behave like this, but I have work to do. As I'm sure you do as well. Besides," He paused, as he leaned in close to her twitching face, "I know she's back in town. I saw her this morning."

Rouge could not hide the shock that ran through her body and laid to rest on her face. Shadow smirked and walked to the door of his office.

"Wha... What happened?" She asked as he opened the door and gestured for her to leave. He rolled his eyes, and crossed his arms.

"What do you think? She invited me to her inane party. Of course I'm not going. Nothing will make me go, not you and definitely not her."

Rouge sat for a minute, a look of pity on her face, before she got up to leave. He almost felt bad for the way he treated her, after all it wasn't her fault that Amy was a total witch. But as she was leaving, she paused, gave him a look, and said, "People deserve a second chance. Amy may not be perfect, but who is? Just come and hear her out... You'll regret it if you don't."

Without waiting for a response, she left.

................................................................................................................................

As usual, nothing of any importance or excitement happened to Shadow at work. And throughout the day he had done his best to avoid Rouge, which had been difficult since she was his partner, and was a stubborn bitch if he ever knew one. However, he’d been able to leave early after finishing all his paperwork, with the excuse of his broken bike. He headed to his favorite auto shop, all the while riding with extreme care so as not to lose more of his bike then he already had. Once he arrived he was greeted by one of the few Mobians he could tolerate, Jamie Steele, an orange hedgehog mechanic.

"Heya Shado–OH shit! What happened to Ruby?!" Jamie rushed over to the shambles of a bike that Shadow dragged behind him. Shadow rolled his eyes at the hedgehog's frantic examination of his prized possession. "Didn't I tell you not to call it that?"

Jamie stopped and stood up, his blue eyes playful, "You and I both know you like the name." Ignoring Shadow's glare, the orange hedgehog grabbed the bike, and pulled it into his private section of the garage.

As they walked towards the back room, Shadow glanced around at all the high end vehicles and imported machines. He was still amazed at what Jamie had managed to do in just the few years that he’d owned the shop. It used to be the worst in town, but now there was a waiting list for months, just to have Jamie take a glance at a machine. However, having a rare handmade motorcycle, made Shadow’s ‘Ruby’ Jamie’s favorite client. He never had to wait for an appointment.

"So, my friend, you gonna tell me what happened to my favorite girl?" The orange hedgehog’s voice came through the door, snapping Shadow’s attention from the main garage. Shadow made his way in after Jamie, and couldn't help but let loose a frustrated growl.

"Some shit from the past resurfaced in the most inconvenient way possible."

"Oh?" Jamie inquired, as he locked the wheels of the bike into place on a stand and took a closer look at the machine. "And this 'past,' she have a name?"

Shadow looked at him with such a bewildered expression, that it caused the orange hedgehog to laugh. Shadow’s eyes narrowed when he heard the laughter, and he scoffed,

"How'd you know I was talking about a person, let alone a female?"

Jamie shook his head and stood up with a grin, "Not much can make a prideful male like yourself unnerved. I figure it has to be one of two things, a girl or a visit from Chaos himself. And I highly doubt the later is making trips to see a grumpy guy like yourself."

He made his way to the back of the garage, enjoying the sour look of confirmation on Shadow's face and turned off the lights. "Come on, let's go get some drinks. I don't have any more appointments today, and your bike will need new, imported parts, that won't get here for at least a couple days. Besides, you look like you need some hard liquor."

......

Previous / Next

#sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #Amy Rose #Rouge the Bat #Shadamy #OC #Jamie Steele #fanfiction #writing #romance #heartwarming

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clcvers · 4 years

Text

who: evelyn & clover (@yundays) what: a discord thread when: friday, october 2nd (the night before the festival) where: some trendy club in brooklyn

evelyn: the night started very similarly to how every friday night goes for evelyn — pregaming on alcohol and drugs for two hours straight and not heading to the club until right before midnight. but this time felt more special as clover joined her, an event that only happens a few times a month due to conflicting schedules. and honestly, she was going to need her best friend and their shenanigans if she was going to get through this all nighter. after all, there was no way she was going to sleep before her 7am shift. it just didn’t make sense. admittedly, maybe things felt a little blurry as she arrived to the club, but it was almost like everything came into hyper focus as she stumbled on to the dancefloor, the neon lights and sharp snares electrifying her right down to her bones. evelyn instantly turns to the other woman already raising her arms in the air and dancing, shoulders and hips moving in tandem to the beat. ❝ oh my god, clover. the music… it’s like in my fingertips, wow… ❞ she releases a giggle at that, fingertips gently touching her own face. and for some reason, in that moment, it’s like she had the greatest epiphany ever. ❝ i literally love you. i’m like… so glad you’re here with me, clove. ❞ she says, bringing her into an embrace and swaying the two of them together.

clover: it had been ages since clover had been in the middle of a sweaty, crowded club instead of staring down at one from the dj platform. something about being out with evelyn made it feel even more right. she hadn't seen her best friend in what felt like months, and getting to dance with her again tonight felt almost euphoric. she'd be lying if she said that she wasn't disappointed that she hadn't pregamed as intensely as evelyn, but it wasn't hard for her to track down her old dealer for some molly. back in the day, one little pill would hardly have an effect on her, but outside of the occasional joint, it'd been almost two years since she'd touched anything. it was just one pill, she figured, how bad could it be ? besides, it was a special occasion. when evelyn's giggling starts to echo in her ear, she knows that something's happening. looking back at her friend, she can hardly bring herself to do anything but smile. ❝ i can't feel my face ! ❞ she exclaims, letting out a breathy laugh as evelyn pulls her close. ❝ dude... you're like my best friend. have i ever told you that you're like... my best fucking friend? ❞mall>

evelyn: ❝ clover, i am literally so honored i can cry. ❞ and for a moment, it’s almost like she is going to as her eyes water up slightly. though, it could be partially due to the smoke machine, if anything. ❝ you’re going to like, make me cry… in the club. ❞ realizing she just quoted a meme, any tears that might’ve welled up in her eyes quickly dissipate as she begins laughing into clover’s shoulder. she eventually does pull away, though, feeling as though the music itself is behind the wheel as she closes her eyes and lets the euphoric beats and her best friend’s voice guide her. jumping to the rhythm, a large smile appears on her face as she reopens her eyes, elated to see that her friend’s face is still there, the drugs making it seem like her face is closer than it actually is. the image makes her laugh as she peers past her friend’s shoulder, looking into the abyss of neon-lit moving bodies as her vision becomes a bit wavy. ❝ um… i’m going to like… go on a limb here and say like, i think the drugs are kicking in. ❞ she giggles at her state, acutely aware of just how fucked up she is, the experience feeling more fun and fantastical than scary.

clover: as she moves to the music, clover leans into evelyn and laughs along with her, losing herself in the moment shared between them. when evelyn pulls away, clover can feel the heat rising in her body, propelling her to move in sync with the music as she begins to lose herself in the crowd. evelyn's voice brings her back into reality and she slowly floats back to their position in the crowd. ❝ you and me both, ❞ she says dreamily, closing her eyes as she sways to the melody. ❝ i feel like i'm a mermaid right now. ❞ her realization makes her giggle and she quickly inches closer to evelyn to embrace her once again. ❝ i'm really happy these days, you know? ❞

evelyn: evelyn’s giggle reflects her friend’s own as she welcomes the embrace and sways the two of them once more. ❝ you literally look so happy, clover, i just knew it... i’m like so happy for you and your best life, wow. ❞ she scream-whispers into her ear over the loud bass as she brings them back to arm’s length and continues dancing in this form, truly just vibing. ❝ oh my god, should we like, get drinks? ❞ the realization brings her hands to her mouth in exaggerated shock, genuinely shocked they haven’t made a b-line to the bar immediately. “yeah, i think we are gonna need drinks like… asap.” she restates, as she glances back trying to remember where it was in the cloudy haze of her intoxicated state. taking clover’s hands and resting them on her own shoulders, she congo-dances her way out of the crowd, hoping that going against the current of the crowd will lead her to the pot of gold that was the bar counter. eventually it does and after getting the bartender’s attention by leaning in and shouting, he comes over. ❝ hi, so i’m going to need a gin and tonic and… bitch, what are you feeling right now? ❞ she turns to the other, asking the question in her ear.

clover: the mention of drinks awakens her from her dreamy state, and she follows closely behind evelyn as they make their way through the crowd. ❝ let's run up the tab, ❞ she giggles as they finally reach the bar. her hands are still perched on evelyn's shoulders as she inches closer to the counter to shout her order to the bartender. ❝ i'll take a jack and coke. ❞ as the bartender disappears to fetch their drinks, she leans her back against the counter comfortably before looking back at her friend. ❝ i swear, this is like, the best night ever. ❞

evelyn: evelyn hands the bartender her card as the drinks appear in front of them, passing it to her best friend. ❝ clink, clink, bitch. ❞ she brings her glass to meet the other’s own, smirking at its rim before taking a long sip, the liquid going down like it was water for the woman. ❝ oh my god, like, to be honest though… it literally is, wow. ❞ she giggles into her glass, instinctually taking yet another sip. ❝ honestly like these past few weekends have been so lame, no joke… it was missing clover magic, like it’s been soooo long, what the fuck. ❞

clover: ❝ remind me to venmo you later, ❞ clover whispers loudly to her friend, taking the glass from her before clinking it against hers. ❝ cheers, bitch! ❞ she yells excitedly, almost downing her drink in one sip. ❝ you think i'm magic? ❞ she practically gasps, looking at her best friend with gleaming eyes. ❝ you're so fucking cute, evie! ❞

30 MINUTES LATER

evelyn: returning back to the dancefloor, evelyn is genuinely enjoying herself as she takes the last sip of her drink, already eyeing a few people — with a few returning the glance. she brings her attention back to her best friend but keeps her gaze on someone else across the room as she chuckles to herself. ❝ oh my god, okay, clover fucking slap me if i try to go home with someone tonight okay. like… you have my permission. my cheek can take it, okay. ❞ she slurs into clover’s ear, bringing a hand to her face, the memories of awful drunken hookups coming to mind.

clover: when the two finally make their way back onto the dancefloor, clover could be less preoccupied with the people dancing around them. she's too busy having the time of her life with her best friend and vibing to one of the best sets they'd ever been to together. so when evelyn all of a sudden gives her permission to get violent with her if she tries to get laid, she's taken aback. ❝ girl, ❞ she says, her voice raising in pitch from all of the liquor she's had. ❝ you know i'm not one to judge, but i lowkey hate how you'll just sleep with anyone when you're drunk enough. ❞ clover laughs tipsily as she pulls away from evelyn, shaking her head a bit as she remembers all of the stories they'd exchanged about their drunken hookups.

evelyn: ❝ oh my god, i know it’s seriously soooo bad. ❞ evelyn chuckles into her hand, flushing from embarrassment and as the alcohol digests further and further into her system. ❝ ugh, i’ll never forget how fucking messy my birthday was. like... i woke up to dylan of all people, oh god. ❞ she groans at the memory, rubbing her eyes as her intoxicated state only increases from here. as it does, the dj moves gracefully into the next song, causing evelyn to drop her jaw at the selection. ❝ fuck, this song is sooo beautiful, clover, wow… i might cry. ❞

clover: the song changes before clover has time to respond to what her friend says, and with the whiskey and molly clouding her thoughts, it takes her a moment to process what evelyn even means. she'd left early with one of evelyn's friends on the night of her birthday, and come to think of it, she'd never actually heard how the rest of evelyn's night went. ❝ wait, ❞ she pauses, turning to her friend as she leans in to speak to her. ❝ why did you wake up next to dylan? ❞ the thought of them together feels unnatural to her, but she can't think of another explanation as to why she would say such a thing. ❝ you didn't... ❞ she pleads, trailing off as tears begin to stream slowly down her face, hoping that this was all some big misunderstanding. ❝ evie, ❞ she says forcefully, grasping evelyn's wrist, ❝ tell me you didn't. ❞

evelyn: ❝ ow, that hurts… ❞ evelyn pouts, eyebrows stringing together as her gaze lingers a little too long on her friend’s grip on her wrist. ❝ what didn’t i do? ❞ she eventually asks, already forgetting the words coming out of her lips as soon as she says them. noticing her best friend’s tears though makes her heart drop nonetheless, believing it has to be because the song playing feels so visceral. ❝ oh god, clover please don’t cry… the song is almost over. i think so. should we ask him? ❞ she proposes, glancing back to the dj stand, and deciding internally that it’s much too far away and she’s honestly much too lazy.

clover: clover hadn't realized that she was applying pressure on evelyn's wrist until she cries out, and she lets go as she turns back to look evelyn in the eyes. ❝ what didn't you do? ❞ she repeats furiously as more tears begin to cloud her vision. ❝ what the fuck is wrong with you? ❞ the room suddenly starts to spin around her as she backs away from evelyn, disgusted at her nonchalant attitude. the admission alone was enough to send her spiraling, but the lack of compassion evelyn had for her — her supposed best friend — made her even more on edge. ❝ I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE FUCKING SONG! ❞ she screams as the tears fogging her eyes finally fall and smudge her heavy eyeliner. ❝ i can't believe you would do this to me. ❞ she almost chokes on her words as she sobs, walking straight through the crowd and hoping evelyn doesn't catch up to her.

evelyn: as soon as evelyn saw clover get worked up, she can feel her chest clenching, doing her best to focus on hanging on to reality just a little bit longer to see what was happening with her best friend. before she realizes it, clover is leaving and all she can do is follow after her. ❝ clover, wait. clover… ❞ she calls after her, worming through the crowd to catch up. ❝ where are you going? did i do something wrong? i didn’t mean it, i promise. ❞ she says more out of a knee jerk than sincerity, still trying to catch up with what exactly was going on.

clover: she doesn't wait for evelyn to catch up with her, but when she hears her voice calling out, she can feel her eyes welling up again. ❝ did you do something wrong? ❞ clover scoffs as she stops in front of the bar, turning towards evelyn as they meet face to face again. ❝ you slept with dylan when you knew that i liked him! ❞ her face heats up as she speaks, swallowing what was left of her pride after she sobbed in the middle of the club. ❝ you are un-fucking-believable, ❞ she says as her jaw tightens and her fists clench. ❝ you know what? i hate you. ❞

evelyn: evelyn’s heart drops at clover’s declaration of hate, feeling her sense of reality slip from her consciousness, growing more and more spaced out as the tremendous guilt and intoxication pull her down. ❝ no, no, no clover, please. it wasn’t like that, i don’t like him, i promise. fuck, please, please don’t hate me, clover. i’m so sorry, fuck. ❞ and it all leaves her lips as a slippery, slur-induced rambling mess because all she knows is she’s fucked up, the one thing she never wanted her to know coming out and now she’s feeling like she’s losing it all rapidly. as it all crashes down, all she could do is plead as she feels her breathing speeding up.

clover: all clover can do as her best friend pleads with her is sob. she never imagined that evelyn would be capable of betraying her — especially after she had been so supportive when it seemed like she and dylan had finally made some progress after all these years. she can feel her chest heaving as she looks back at her former best friend, shaking her head at her empty words. ❝ don't ever speak to me again, ❞ she manages to say, her words slurring through her tears. turning away from evelyn, she stumbles through the crowd to get some fresh air. all she wants to do is go home.

#𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝒄𝒍𝒊𝒒𝒖𝒆 ▸ threads.#𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ▸ evelyn.

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maggyme13 · 5 years

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The Last Mission (7/?)

AN: THE NEXT PART IS HERE… thank you to my readers on AO3 who left me a lot of comments to motivate and give me ideas to write this chapter! Thanks to the little few who did this on here (Tumblr) as well.

Wordcount: around 3400

Warning: slight smut, dub con, talk about pregnancies….

Masterlist

TLM- Masterlist

Part 6

The soldier took you a few times. Once while you where asleep even, waking you up in the process; though that had been the last time, for when he had finished, the plane already alerted him that you were about to reach your landing area.

“Enjoy the view. After we land, I will blindfold you again until we reach our new destination.”, were his last words before he closed the cockpit door behind him.

You breathed in awe, the plane was flying into the sunset, painting the sky into beautiful read and violet colours.

Wow this is breath-taking, I wish I could take a picture. Are we in Europe or Asia, I wonder…. Better buckle up.

Breaching through the pink clouds, you saw that everything beneath the plane were woods and hills.

Where does he want to land this thing? I can´t see any streets.

The plane flew a little curve and you noticed the crowns of the trees coming closer and closer. And then, the trees suddenly opened up to reveal a landing strip.

Guess this is where he is planning to land.

Within the next ten minutes, the soldier had landed the plane and parked it, in what it seemed to be, a hidden hangar.

“Ready to go?”, the man chuckled, entering the cabin again.

Knowing you had no choice, you stood up nodding your understanding and turned around to make it easier for him to blindfold you.

He thanked you with a light brush od his metal digits against the exposed skin of your neck, sending a shudder down your spine. Much to the amusement of the male.

“Not here and not yet- but soon. When we are at our new hideout.”, he whispered, his lips mere hair width away from your ear.

You dreaded your future and the ride there.

“How long until we are there?”, you asked with a meek voice.

“Two hours by car and then two by foot. Depending how fast you can walk blindfolded.”

You sighted. I am so gonna break my legs. Or pummel to my death.

“Don’t worry, the way is not steep and not aligned by cliffs. So, you won´t die- at least if you don’t try to run. The area is known for their mountain lions. Don´t try to run once we are there and Barnes is back in charge.”, malice swung in his voice and you hurried to answer truthfully.

“I won´t. I am not stupid.”, the last part was only a whisper, but he heard it non the less of course.

“Maybe you are not. Though it stands against to be argued, after you were with that captain on the Carrier.”

“But just because I had no other choice.”, you grumbled under your breath, “Just like now.”

“I am sure Romanov can be quite persuading. I taught her after all a few tricks myself. Now follow me.”

The male grabbed your upper arm and surprisingly gentle guided you out of the plane and towards a car.

Is this a jeep? Does that mean it goes up a mountain?

You did not know much about cars, bur this one was so loud, you knew the motor must be strong and expensive. He kept silent until the moment you must have reached the place the journey would continue by foot.

“Now we will walk the rest of the way. But we need to hurry- it looks like it will rain soon.”

For real? Just my luck.

“O-okay. If I could see, I would be faster-“, you tried to reason, but to no avail.

“No way. But don’t worry, this path is rather easy and I will make sure you will not fall. I admire you trying though.”

“Fine.”, you sighted, “ It was worth a try, not that I had anywhere to go.”

“True. Now shut up and walk.”

___

One and a half hours into the walk the first droplets of water fell and soon rain poured down like waterfalls; within seconds the two of you were drenched to the bone.

Thunder roared in the distance and the winds got stronger.

You felt like a walking icicle.

*Hatchoo* You sneezed.

*Hatchoo* Again.

And again. And again and again.

Fuck, I am so going to be sick.

“Five more minutes and we are at our destination.”, the man beside you stated, sounding angry and not happy himself.

Soon he said the words you were waiting for: “We are here. Time to warm up.”

“Y-y-y-y-y-yes p-p-p-p-please.”, you shivered.”s-s-s-s-s-soooo cold.”

“Take off your blindfold. I don’t want you to get the whole door wet.”, the soldier ordered and you tried to follow, but your fingers were to stiff to even move.

“I-i-i-i-I can´t- my f-f-f-f-f-fing-g-g-gers are froo-o-o-ozen.”

Lights blinded you, when the piece of cloth was removed.

“T-t-t-thank y-y-you.“, you shivered with a smile.

“Through that door over there is the bath. Get beneath the shower. I will turn the heater on and get soups heated.”

“O-o-o-o-okay.”, you had no energy and will left to argue, both were as frozen as your body.

What you were able to register from the cabin, was cosy and wooden.

Zooming in on the door the soldier had clamed to hide the bath, you nearly fell over your frozen feet, though you were able to catch yourself on the doorframe.

Grabbing the handle, you were confused the very next second. No matter if you pulled or pushed- the door stayed close.

Why?- How`? What?

“H—hh-h-how do I o-o-o-o-pen the damn do-o-or?”, you grumbled. It was when you yanked at the handle, that the door slipped open. Leaving you buffed.

A sliding door?

Finally able to enter the room, you beelined for the shower, not even able and wanting to strip, you started the water and stood beneath the hot stream within seconds.

It burnt, so cold was your blood and body.

“Fuck!”

The water isn’t really heated yet.

Your clothing hot more and more heavy with every second it got soaked.

Slowly. Very slowly, you felt your body heat return.

“Still in your clothes. You must be more frozen than I thought. You need to undress though to get proper heat. I will do it for you.”, the male suddenly stated from the doorway, causing you to jump in fright and surprise.

“Reflexes are still there. Good. Move, I will join you and then we eat.”

The soldier joint you beneath the hot stream, stripping on his way and only leaving his knife in his hand, at once cutting away your soaked clothing.

It felt so good to have it gone, that you weren’t even mad.

“Now wash yourself. I brought clothes to change into once we are warm and dry again.”

Nodding in understanding, you accepted the soap he was offering you and did as he had told.

And so did he later on as well.

It must have taken almost an hour until your bodies were warm again and dressed (in your case) in oversized sweatpants and shirt, while your hair had been blown dry by a hairdryer.

“Eat up and then take one of the rooms to sleep in. No door in this cabin can be locked, except for the front door and one hidden somewhere around here. I am the only one who knows how to open them. Enjoy the time with Barnes. We will see each other sooner than later.”, and with those words, you were left alone in the ´large´ cabin in the woods.

___

You had taken the liberty to open each and every door on the search for the most comfortable looking room and bed to claim as your own. Fully intending on making the best out of your situation, you chose the room right next to the kitchen, for it was the one bedroom with the biggest window and bed.

Thinking (and hoping) there might be some more fitting clothes in the closets, you opened every drawer and found: absolutely nothing- only some dust.

At least the bed seemed to be fresh, well more or less.

Tired as hell and hoping for one uninterrupted night of sleep, you slipped beneath the covers.

The warmth and softness lulling you to sleep at once.

______

For two days you were left alone, no man- neither Barnes nor the Soldier- joined you and you were able to relax some more. On the bad side, it made you mind wander as well.

How long will he keep you?

What will he do, once he doesn’t want or need you anymore?

What if you get ill?

You were just preparing some breakfast for yourself, when a movement caught your attention at the entrance of the hallway that lead to the four bedrooms.

The soldier or Bucky? With that confusion and guild in his eyes, it can only be Bucky.

“Where are we? How did we get here and how long are were here already?”, the male asked in confusion.

“A few days. The soldier brought us here. This cabin is locked, and we are literally in the middle of nowhere. Tea?”, you answered with a shrug, having come to terms with the fact you could not change anything.

Shock was written in his eyes.

“What did I do?”, he asked, his hands entangling in his hair and clutching his head.

“Sleep. And he did nothing but getting us here. That was three days ago. You slept for two days after arriving here. I was just making myself some breakfast. Want some?”

“I-I thought he was gone.”, Bucky whispered to himself, you could almost think you had imagined it.

“If you want to shower, the bath is over there and the door slides open. I will be in my room over there if you want or need anything.”, you smiled and past the male, knowing he probably needed some time for himself.

Laying down on your bed, you continued reading one of the books you had found: and older version of J.R.R Tolkien´s “The Hobbit”.

You liked to read, especially launching on the bank of the oriel windows in the living area, with a cup of tea by your side.

Bucky did not join you that day, and when the night fell, you went to the bathroom to get ready for bed. He was sitting on the couch, staring into nothing.

“I am getting ready and then head off to bed.”, you called out, though got no reaction.

It was another two days until the Soldier visited you again.

“So this is the room you chose. Cosy. And you seem to have found the books. I never was in this room before- the handlers were sleeping here. Now I know why. This is the best room in the whole cabin.”, the deeper voice of the dark side stated from the door, pulling you away from the book.

“I can switch-“, you answered not wanting to anger him, now that your situation had slightly increased. Though you hoped he would decline that offer.

“No need for that. I will simply join you here. Just like I would do in any other room. Why don’t you make room for me?”, he grinned, already pulling his shirt over his head.

His chest was still toned, and you caught yourself thinking that you could be attracted towards him under different circumstances.

Placing a mark into the book, you put it down on the nightstand, waiting for more instructions.

“What have you done while I was gone, I wonder. You did not try to leave. And neither did Barnes. I wonder why?”, he asked, now standing at the food of the bed.

“You said the doors are locked and that I would never find the way back to the car. No matter that I don’t know where we are. This could be China, Russia or Germany for all I know. I am safe here, have food, running water and heating. I had to chose between certain death and imprisonment. TO be honest: As long as I stay alive, I might be able to let the Asshole and the Bitch know what I think of them and slap them in the face.”, you answered honest.

“You think they will find and safe you ?”, his voice darkened- almost sounding possessive.

“No. But the possibilities are higher than when I am dead. And as long as you don’t kill me, I am at least alive. Though it might get boring once I am through with the books.”

“I will have to keep you occupied then, don’t I?”, the soldier had joined you on the bed, towering over your form, once he had finished speaking.

Naked as most times when he visited you. You had stripped yourself, when you had seen him approach, so now both of you were naked; with your body already lubricating itself to be prepared for what was about to come.

____ ____

“You are still sick.”, the Soldier mused.

He had woken up alone in bed once again, finding you slouched over the toilet- puking your guts out in the bathroom.

“Just- Just give me a bit. I am sure I will be fine in a few minutes; just like the other days.”, you groaned, and reached for the glass of water to rinse your mouth clean.

“It has been over a week, nearly two, bit you don’t have a fever or any other symptoms of an illness you might have. It also come periodically and you weren´t nowhere where you could have caught an illness.”

“Yeah- wait. What did you just said?”, you snapped your head up.

“That it comes periodically and that you couldn’t get ill from someone.”, he answered bored.

“How periodically?”, you had a bad idea what was wrong with you.

“Every time I wake up, until an hour or so later.”

“So almost like every morning- errr night.”

“In a certain way, yes.”

Shit.Shit

You felt your blood drain out of your face and a hiccup left your throat.

“You know what is wrong with you. Tell me!”, he demanded with a growling and for the first time in a long time, panic settled in your bones.

Your mind was racing: Would this mean you are dead?

Cowering away, you hid behind the toilet, watching the towering man with huge eyes.

He was angry. And became even more so with every passing second.

“(y/n). I will not ask again. Tell me, or I will make you!”, he strode forward, his metal hand gripping your hair, ready to pull you up by it shouldn’t you answer him soon.

“I-I. Please,”, you were freely sobbing now,” I think I might be pregnant.”

You lifted your arms to protect yourself from something that might come towards you. But nothing happened.

No stroke. No answer.

Until:

“Repeat.”, his voice was only a whisper.

“I did not get my period this month. I blamed in on psychological stress. But with this sickness and all- I. I think I might be pregnant by you. W-with all the – by you and Barnes.”

His eyes bored into you. First into your eyes, then slowly wandering down to your stomach. His gaze was so intense, that you were sure he would rip out your uterus then and there.

He is going to kill me for sure.

“Can. Can I see the stars one more time, before-“, your voice broke before you could finish the your plea.

“Before what?”, he squinted his eyes.

“Before you kill me.”, you whispered, “I won´t be of use for you anymore and-“

He stared at you some more, before letting you go and striding out of your room. You were crying, sobbing so hard you couldn’t move.

“Get up.”, his voice suddenly ordered and you stumbled to your feet, “follow me. And eat.”

The last part was said once you had taken the ordered place in the kitchen. A bowl of soup in front of you.

He had never prepared you food (except the one day where you had arrived at this cabin a few weeks ago). Not trusting your stomach, you slowly picked at your food and only ate small bites.

It was good and once your stomach had calmed down; you finished the whole bowl.

“Thank you.”

He moved to stand behind you, his hands moving over your arms to rest on your shoulders, right against your neck. You were sure he would snap your neck then and there.

But he did not.

What is going on?

“Go to your room.”, the Soldier ordered, “and wait there for me.”

“Yes.”

Doing as being told, you sat down on your bed with your mind racing with thoughts about the future. You had never thought about having a baby or not, and now it was too late.

Needing something to do, you started to clean the room; what itself did not take long, because the only thing laying around was the shirt the Soldier used to strip of once awoken.

Bucky had started to actively hide his metal arm when he was in control, while the Soldier proudly showed it, resulting in him walking around bare chested most of the time. At the beginning, Bucky had slept in a different room, though after waking up multiple times in your bed, you had convinced him that he had been sleep walking and so he just shared the bed with you now. You couldn’t bare the thought of telling him, that the soldier was back every night: you did not want to make him suffer more. And since the darker side had been with you every night and you were willing, Bucky´s urges during the day were almost not existing anymore. The only one fucking you at the moment were the Soldier.

It took almost half an hour for the male to join you again. He had a syringe in his hands.

“Lay down and give me your arm.”

“What´s that?”, you asked in fear, you did not want to die through lethal injection like a prisoner.

“Vitamins.”

“Vitamins?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”, you breathed confused, you had been sure he was about to kill you.

“You need them. Now stop asking.”

“Sorry.”, you apologised, offering your demanded arm and flinching when the needle pierced your skin.

After getting rid of the needle somewhere unknown to you, the male slipped into bed next to you, as always naked and hard.

But unlike the other times, he did not slam into you in doggy or missionary style, but pushed you to lay on your side and gently lifted your leg to slip into you with a quick but rather soft movement.

It was so unlike the usual him that you first thought Bucky had taken control. You were even more confused now. His metal hand moved from your thigh, over your mound and lower abdomen (where it rested for a second or two) before making its way to your breasts to play with them.

It was the first time you felt an orgasm build inside of you, caused by the Soldier and not Bucky.

That night, he only took you once; just like the following eight nights.

Each night, he was ´soft ´, careful and preparing food for you either afterwards or before. You didn’t know what to think anymore.

“Why are you like this all of the sudden?”, you asked one evening out of the blue, not being able to stand the change anymore without an explanation.

“I never liked hurting children. I may be a weapon, but I am no monster. Have I killed a few? Yes. Was I ordered to do so by them? Yes. Did I have no other choice? Yes. Did I let them suffer? Never. I always made it quick, clean and painless. No matter my orders.”, was all he said, not even looking up from his task of preparing food,” Furthermore will they put me through the worst pain I will have ever experienced, when they find us and either you or the unborn is hurt. They tried to long and hard to achieve that in the past. The better the news they get once found, the less pain I will be in.”

That was the end of the conversation.

You mused over his answer for some time; finally coming to the conclusion that up until now (and mentally even now) he was nothing more than a prisoner himself. Just like you.

Part 8

AN 2.0: PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK.

Nothing is more discouraging than no feedback at all and maybe you get a quicker update ...

Thank you all for reading and until next time ;)

~MaggY

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#dark #dubcon #dark wintersoldier x reader #bucky x reader #reader insert #mcu #smut #18+#mention of pregnancy #pregnancy #bucky #wintersoldier x reader

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rmg91 · 4 years

Text

The Woes and Antics of Living Together-23 (END)

LAST CHAPTER! AAAAAHHHHHH!!!! I'll see you all at the ending notes for now though, enjoy the epilogue!

Previous Chapter; AO3/FF.net

@writerofberk-Epilogue! Thank you again soooo much for all your wonderful reviews and for reading!

~*~*~*~*~*~

Early morning sun crept into a box filled apartment, illuminating the stacks of labeled cardboard and furniture sitting in the living room. In the kitchen, stood a young woman with bright pink hair pulled into a messy bun as she leaned against the counter and sipped coffee from a unicorn mug. Poppy let out a happy sigh as she surveyed the new apartment, unable to believe it had been just a little over two years since she and Branch had started living together. And in a few more months it would be their two year anniversary of dating! Sure it hadn't always been easy, they still continued to argue, sometimes about silly things, Branch still got grumpy and unsocialable and Poppy sometimes forgot she needed to step back and not push for things. However, that just made all the rest of their relationship all the sweeter. Like when Branch randomly surprises her with a romantic dinner or she decides she wants to cuddle on the couch instead of going to a party. Things were amazing and now they had a new apartment to have new adventures in. Giggling softly, Poppy continued to glance around, excited for when everything would be unpacked and the image in her head would be brought to life. Shelves full of pictures and nick-knacks, a new set up for the TV, movies and games with lots of new space to fill with more memories! She giggled softly before placing down her mug and grabbing her camera.

Turning it on, she adjusted Branch's shirt and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before pressing record, “Hey there, My Cupcakes!” She grinned widely, “Well, we're here at the new apartment! Though we still have like...all the unpacking to do.” She giggled as she looked over all the boxes awaiting to be emptied, “But I figured I'd give you all the new apartment tour before that. Like a little before and after thing.” She giggled again before moving toward the front door.

“So, here's the new entryway,” It was fair sized, nothing terribly special with a small, green cabinet already sitting beside the dark wood door. A small decorative bowl sat on top already with keys laying inside, “I'm thinking about making or finding a wall hanging to greet us when we come in. Next is the new kitchen!” Poppy spun around and showed the kitchen as a whole. Larger than their previous kitchenette, it had dark brown cabinets and white counter-tops, a small island in the center with the stove and fridge against the wall and the sink nestled into the island. The table Poppy had was sat against the dividing wall, a few boxes sitting on top. The dividing wall was large with a 'window' in the center to see out into the living room. “Let's see...we're thinking about adding a little extra cabinet here,” She gestured to beside the table, “To keep either extra dishes or act as an extra pantry. Also might get some new shelves and display my mugs cause Branch says I have sooo many of them.” She rolled her eyes behind the camera. She did not in her opinion have that many but she had agreed that displaying the ones she wasn't using would be fun.

Another lighthearted giggle and Poppy scurried around the corner to show off the new living room, “So, just take a second to imagine a big, entertainment center, here,” She gestured to the wall the TV was currently sitting up against, “With all the game consoles underneath. Branch will probably insist we start putting that together today... Next!” She spun around to show off the other large, empty wall, other than a plain white door, “The new display wall will be here. Lots of new room to have more pictures~! I'll show you guys what's in there in a second,” She pointed to the door before making her way to the sliding glass door, “But first, take a look at this!”

She opened the door to the small, intimate balcony to capture the sight of the rising sun over the small colorful town. She sighed contently before speaking, “There's nothing quite like the sunrise over your hometown, is there?” She honestly still couldn't believe they were back in Trollington. Poppy turned the camera around and spoke into it, “Now, don't get me wrong. I'm gonna miss Bergenville and going to university there and being able to see Bridget and Gristle more often but...Branch got such a great opportunity here, we had to come home!” Reed had offered him a management position at the newest location of Clever Camping and after talking it over with her, Branch had agreed. “Plus, I'll admit...It'll be really nice to be able to see my dad more often.” And Fuzzbert too of course. She had thought briefly about talking to Branch on bringing Fuzzbert to live with them but she hadn't wanted her dad to get lonely. “And! I've actually gotten a really good job offer too!” She giggled, “Yup! You all are looking at Trollington's newest party planner~ I'll be working adjacent to Sky Toronto and I'll give you all the full story in my next vlog. Now-” She went back inside and after closing the sliding door, opened up the wooden one next to it.

“Here is my new craft room!” Inside what was clearly a smaller bedroom was most, if not all of Poppy's craft supplies, all awaiting to be arranged and sorted how she'd want. A small window sat on one wall, where a desk painted with flowers and stickers sat. “I'm still deciding how I want everything but I'm thinking scrapbook stuff here and paint stuff over here.” She pointed as she spoke, mapping it out mentally and thinking she might need a few new containers. “Maybe a nice big display shelf right in the middle for some of my best work! Still deciding. Let's see....”

Poppy wandered out the room and bee lined for the hallway, dodging boxes here and there, “The new bathroom. Not too much to see but I am excited for that big tub and all the bubble baths.” She giggled before quietly approaching the last door, “And now for the bedroom~” Opening the door, she crept inside and showed off three walls, featuring the closet, her and Branch's dressers, her vanity and another large window with some curtains haphazardly thrown up to block the sun. “Not too much to see, except of course...” She turned around the focus on the last wall where the bed had been placed and the sleeping man in it.

Branch was asleep on his stomach, face buried in a pillow with the sheets wrapped around his waist, leaving his bare back in all it's tawny glory for all to see. He breathed rhythmically and Poppy couldn't help giggling as she said, “I get to wake up to that every morning~”

Suddenly Branch shifted and mumbled into his pillow, “-Ou bet'er not be filmin'...” Before shoving his head under said pillow.

“Oops, gotta go! See you all later~” She giggled as she pressed her hand to the lens and turned off the camera. After placing the device down, she happily crawled back into bed beside her grumpy boyfriend, “Aww, don't be such a troll. You know I love showing you off.”

Branch grumbled something unintelligible before surprising Poppy by wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. She squealed and laughed as Branch buried his face in her shoulder, holding her close. She let out a happy hum as she began to run her fingers through his hair, he'd need a new dye job soon, as he breathed a content sigh and nuzzled against her. They laid like that, in a comfortable silence, happily in each others embrace for a few minutes before Branch broke the silence.

“How and why are you up so early?” He had thought between both the moving and the couple of housewarming shots they had last night, Poppy would have wanted to sleep in.

“Mmm...Guess my responsible boyfriend has corrupted me to getting up early.” She said cheekily, “Also I had to use the bathroom. Then I just decided the coffee maker need to be plugged in.”

Branch hummed, making no move to remove himself from around her, he just wanted to stay right here for a little while longer, “Let's just stay here. I'm not looking forward to unpacking all your stuff.”

“Hey!” Poppy laughed, “You have a good amount of stuff too!” She playfully poked his head, “So no whining about the unpacking. And the sooner we unpack, the sooner we can have a little apartment warming party!”

He groaned and tried to bury his face deeper into her shoulder, whining, “Nooo. No party.” He did not care how childish he had just sounded, Poppy was clearly rubbing off on him, he just wanted to enjoy having his adorable girlfriend all to himself in their new apartment for a little while longer.

“Branch!” Poppy giggled, knowing he didn't quiet mean that, “You promised!”

He heaved a sigh before finally pushing himself up and hovering over her, “Yeah, yeah, I know.” While it was still true he still didn't enjoy large, loud parties, he truly didn't mind small get togethers with their friends now and again. As long at they didn't get too out of control. He smirked down at her, “Didn't mean I couldn't try.”

She giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck, “I know~” She then pulled him for a deep, long kiss. “Mmm...Good morning~” She hummed when they parted.

“Morning,” He said back softly, nuzzling his nose against hers, “Love you.”

Poppy giggled sweetly and smiled up at him that special look he never got tired of seeing, “Love you too~”

Branch continued to rub their noses together before dipping down and kissing her again. Poppy sighed, kissing him back and sank into the mattress, letting his weight settle on top of her. Branch tilted his head to the side, deepening the kiss as Poppy invited his tongue into her mouth. Poppy hummed as she arched into Branch, one hand in his hair and the other trailing lightly down his chest before he pulled away. Branch peppered a few extra kisses across her cheek and down her neck before nuzzling his face into his shoulder with a content sigh. Poppy happily hugged him to her, fingers toying lightly with his hair as they laid there in comfortable silence.

“Hey,” Branch said after a few quiet moments. His thoughts had gone back to something he had been thinking about recently and now that the craziness of moving was mostly over, unpacking wasn't as stressful as packing was, he thought maybe now could be a good time.

“Hmm?” Poppy responded, having started to feel the pull of dozing off. Branch's wonderful warmth and scent surrounding her was making her sleepy again.

“Let's go out tonight.” He said, shifting to look at her, “To celebrate moving in.”

Poppy cracked her eyes open with a giggle, “Really?” When Branch nodded she grinned up at him, “Okay~ But first, a little nap. I'm comfy now.” She made a point of trying to snuggle deeper into the pillows as she closed her eyes again.

Branch chuckled and resumed his previous position as he breathed a mental sigh of relief. He hoped she didn't feel the sudden spike in his heartbeat as he began to think of all the different scenarios on how tonight could go. He could very well chicken out in the end, she wouldn't know but there was something about that thought that just made Branch shudder. No, no chickening out no matter what, he'd been wanting this for almost his entire life and having Poppy forever in his life was finally in his grasp. He'd had the ring for weeks already. He was going to ask her and he just hoped beyond hope that she said yes.

She did.

THE END

~*~*~*~*~*~

TA-DAH!!! IT IS COMPLETED!

Okay, yes, it may end a little abruptly as the beta pointed out but I also didn't want to drag it out very much either. ANYWAY! LOOK! I ACTUALLY FINISHED A MULTI-CHAPTERED FIC! I can't tell you guys just how awesome this feels, I've been working on this since January!! And I couldn't have done without all your wonderful comments! (and buffer chapters, those saved my butt a couple of times lol!) Anyway, thank you all so, so, Sooooooo much for reading, enjoying, commenting, faving this fic, it makes my heart happy to know you all enjoyed it as much as I did! Was there a few things I wish I'd done differently? A few but not much c:

So now that this is done, I am going back to writing oneshots for the foreseeable future cause I do not have it in me to any more multi-chaptered fics for a while lol! I'll probably eventually post some bonus scene's somewhere but until then I bid you all adieu~

#Dreamworks Trolls #Branch #Poppy #Broppy #fanfiction #Human AU #Modern AU #Roommate AU #Fluff

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missjosie27 · 4 years

Text

Year 2 Part 3: A Bit of Transfiguration

Hey, guys! Sorry for the wait on the update. This is the next part of the story I am currently writing and I hope you all continue to enjoy!

The next day proved difficult to focus on Transfiguration with Ben in the Hospital Wing. Though David, Penny, and Tonks had been sworn to secrecy, somehow rumor still spread around the school of his absence. Not to mention he wasn’t sure if he was going to avoid punishment for being caught after hours, however, he was pretty sure Merula hadn’t let the general populace that he had beat her again in a duel.

Despite these distractions, he still managed to be only one of two students (the other was a red haired Ravenclaw girl he didn’t know) to properly transfigure his porcupine into a pincushion, much to the delight of Professor McGonagall.

“Very good, Mr. Grant,” she praised after asking him to perform the spell for her. “You are quite the natural in this subject. Five points to Gryffindor.”

“Thank you, Professor.”

“Indeed, you are one of the more gifted students at Transfiguration I’ve seen in some time,” she added. “If you are interested, we may explore more advanced lessons.”

“I’ll consider it for sure.”

McGonagall gave a curt nod. “Alright, that’s enough for today. Class dismissed.”

The Gryffindors and Ravenclaws began shuffling out and for a moment David thought he had successfully avoided the subject of last night. Alas, he was wrong.

“Mr. Grant, do stay. There is a matter we need to discuss.”

Rowan gave him an encouraging look to try and make him feel better, but though his head of house was fairer than Snape he knew she would not let him off easy. Running a hand through his dark brown hair, he decided it was best to face the music.

He walked over to her desk while the others vacated the room and soon he was staring face to face into her stern, gray eyes.

“You wanted to see me Professor?”

“Yes, Grant. It is in regard to last night, your friend Mr. Ben Copper.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is he okay?”

“At the moment, he is being well cared for by Madam Pomfrey and is no immediate danger. However, his memory is quite spotty, and he does not remember how or when he became trapped in this cursed ice. Rest assured, he is fine and will make a full recovery.”

That at least, was a huge relief off of his mind.

“Thank you, Professor.”

“Indeed, I thought it best you ought to know personally given how close you two are.”

“Soooo….I’m not being punished?”

David hadn’t wanted to push his luck but a part of him couldn’t help popping the question. Better safe than sorry.

“Your heroism in discovering Mr. Copper in the nick of time has warranted a pass for now. But I warn you, I will not overlook future violations of curfew. Is that understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied eagerly, hardly daring to believe his good fortune.

“Very good,” and suddenly her eyes were full of concern and sympathy. “Though he is fairing well, I daresay he’ll need his friends after such an ordeal. Do see to it to pay him a visit.”

“I will, professor.”

“Good. Let us speak no more of this.”

Rowan was waiting for him outside when he finally exited the classroom.

“What did she say?” he asked with anticipation.

“She let me off the hook for now. Definitely her way of saying ‘thank you’ for finding Ben when we did.”

“I’m sure glad you found him,” Rowan agreed. “I think it explains why he was acting so oddly. You know what this means, right?”

“What?”

“He must have been searching for the vaults himself,” he theorized as they traveled up the stairs towards the Great Hall. “You know that ice only affects you if you touch it. Somehow, he broke through that door again.”

“You don’t know that,” David tried to ease his best friend. “He’s not exactly in a good state right now. Let’s just see how he’s doing before jumping to any conclusions.”

“Alright. It’s just…after that note from ‘R’ or whoever…it’s freaky that someone or something could be watching us…”

“I know. But for now, let’s just pay him a visit before History of Magic. Give him some company.”

Rowan nodded and they climbed another flight of stairs before entering the main ward of the Hospital Wing. It was quite spacious and very tidy, with windows to allow those unfortunate enough to find themselves sick or injured. The ceilings were high and each bed was surrounded by a curtain to allow for privacy if desired. Madam Pomfrey ran a tight ship and was usually not keen on people distracting or distressing her patients, however, she was also quite kind and was usually accommodating within limits.

Today, only two other students were in her care so being able to see their friend was not an otherworldly request.

“Hello, Madam Pomfrey,” David greeted as she approached them. “How’s Ben? Is alright?”

“I believe so,” she said, causing both boys to inwardly sigh in relief. “I’ve certainly seen worse in my time here at Hogwarts, but his memory is rather erratic.”

“May we see him?”

“You may although I must insist you not stay long. He’s still in a minor state of delirium and I don’t want him to get too excited.”

“We’re just here to check in on him. Don’t worry, Madam Pomfrey.”

“Very well, he’ll be waiting for you. Third bed on the right.”

Privately, David could only wonder ‘delirium’ meant in Ben’s current condition. Did he go crazy? Perhaps confounded? That was always a possibility. Of course, at this point, almost anything was.

“Hey, mate,” he said as casually as he could upon reaching his bed, making minor observations along the way. Judging by his physical appearance, there was nothing out of the ordinary. The blue in his face was completely gone and he was certainly no longer shivering. However, Madam Pomfrey had not been lying when she stated he was in a nervous state of mind.

“Hey, Dave, Rowan.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Better but not great. Madam Pomfrey says that a few more pepperup potions should be enough to get rid of the cold, but I’m still sore.”

Though he claimed to be okay, his face told a different story. In truth the second year Gryffindor looked quite shaken.

“Anything we can do to cheer you up?” Rowan asked.

“Just seeing a friendly face is enough. Madam Pomfrey has been really helpful but she’s also kind of strict.”

“I would know,” David nodded. “She almost made me miss the feast last year after the werewolf debacle.”

“Not going to lie, kind of glad I missed that.”

David laughed but he and Rowan both knew that getting to the bottom of the ordeal was equally important.

“Ben, we have to ask, what happened?”

Placing his hand on his head in frustration, he let out a confused groan.

“I feel like I’m losing it.”

“You mean you have no idea what you’ve been doing the past couple days, or how you became stuck in the cursed ice?”

“None, at all. I can’t remember a thing,” came the sad reply. “Madam Pomfrey says she thinks it has something to with the ice but there’s no way to know for sure.”

David and Rowan looked at each other, the latter nodding at the former, who pulled out the letter they found on his person at the time of his discovery.

“This was a note we picked up off the floor after we found you. Do you recognize it?”

He proceeded to read aloud the message from ‘R’ but again it drew a blank.

“I’m sorry, guys, but I don’t know how that got into my pocket or who ‘R’ is.”

“You must remember something,” Rowan pressed him. “Try and think. We need to know who this person is.”

Again, Ben shook his head.

“It’s too difficult right now. All I can really recall is preparing to get on the train and then it’s completely blank after that…almost like I was floating aimlessly or something…cursed vaults…ice everywhere….”

It was then that David knew they weren’t going to get much else out of him as Ben lay back down on the bed, still muttering to himself quietly. Evidently, Madam Pomfrey thought so as well because not a second later they were being escorted out of the Hospital Wing.

“He needs his rest, dears. When he’s ready I’ll be sure to let Professor McGonagall know so she may inform you all. Good day.”

As the doors slammed shut, David began to muse to himself as they headed down for lunch.

“He seems fine enough,” he said to Rowan, who began pulling out several books from his satchel. “But if he can’t remember anything, how are we supposed to know who’s behind this or what’s going on with the vaults?”

“We don’t know enough about ‘R’ to get any closer to finding who they are,” Rowan said, flipping through pages. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t still investigate ourselves. Remember the message we found last year about the hidden staircase? I have a feeling that might be our next lead.”

“The ice knight stands guard past the vanished stairs,” David echoed the deciphered message from the previous year.

“Exactly. Probably guarded by more than a few vanishing and concealment spells.”

“So how do we get in?”

“Easy,” Rowan said, plopping down on the table and serving himself a sandwich with chips. “I’m willing to bet that hidden staircase is in the same corridor as where the ice originates. We find the vault, break the curse, and gather more information. But first, I suggest not going there for the time being.”

“Agreed.”

“At least, not until we learn more complicated magic. The Revealing spell for one thing.”

David began munching relentlessly (he always had an appetite for food despite his wiry build).

“We don’t learn that in Transfiguration until fifth year.”

“I know, that’s why we need to learn it.”

He chuckled.

“I suppose you’ve read the entire curriculum already, Rowan?”

“Close, I’ve already looked into our N.E.W.T. level coursework actually. This doesn’t quite fall under that category but as you said, it’s advanced magic for someone our age.”

“Well, lucky for both of us, I’m quite good at Transfiguration,” David said through a mouth full of chips. “And a certain someone just offered me advanced lessons.”

He swallowed and gave a large belch, which caused a passerby Jae to laugh, and a few of the girls to give disgusted looks their way.

Rowan laughed, as he showed the deciphered message to him once more in his book.

“I think you’re onto something there, Dave. Get a basic understanding of vanishing and revealing spells, and we can check out that corridor once more.”

“Agreed. I think it’s time I pay our head of house another visit.”

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The next day, following Herbology, David stopped by the Transfiguration room, where Professor McGonagall had just finished teaching one of her classes.

“Professor? I hope this isn’t a bad time,” he said peeking through the doorway.

“Mr. Grant. No, not at all. I was just finishing up teaching the fifth year Gryffindors. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Stepping inside the classroom, David got straight to the point, not wanting to waste anyone’s time.

“I thought about your offer for advanced lessons and I’ve decided to accept.”

Waving her wand, McGonagall sent a handful of her papers back into her desk before addressing him.

“I am certainly glad to hear it. It may take some time to find a consistent schedule, but I have some free time this Thursday after dinner if you are interested.”

“Yes, thank you.”

“We can start off with some spells and motions normally reserved for third years and go from there. Does that sound agreeable?”

David was afraid she might say that. While under normal circumstances, he would have been more than happy to leave the planning of the lessons up to her, he had to insist upon learning something far more specific and at the same time not tipping his sharp head of house to his real intentions.

“Actually, professor, I was wondering if we might start off with something more advanced. Specifically, revealing and vanishing spells?”

As predicted, McGonagall’s eyebrows furrowed at the request.

“Those two particular techniques are not taught until O.W.L. year, Mr. Grant. They are also quite difficult to master for those much older than you. I am not certain that is the best place to start.”

“I understand. But for me, those are the ones I’m really focused on.”

“And why should a second year be so heavily interested in those specific areas of Transfiguration?”

He knew it was coming. David was well aware Minerva McGonagall was no fool and would not hesitate to glean the truth from him if necessary. His next answer had to be extra careful.

“I want to challenge myself, Professor,” he said with a straight face. “You said yourself I’m gifted at this. Let me test my abilities under your supervision.”

After a few seconds deliberation in which David could feel a trickle of sweat go down his back, McGonagall relented.

“Very well. We will not immediately jump into the spells you have mentioned but I do promise that eventually we will reach that point and devote significant time to their mastery.”

That was all he wanted to hear.

“Thank you, Professor.”

“You are welcome. I shall see you this Thursday at seven pm.”

Walking out of the classroom, a renewed sense of purpose filled David Grant. The vault would have to wait awhile yet, but this was a start. With any luck, he could break this curse and discover more clues about his brother and ‘R’ in little time.

#david grant #rowan khanna #ben copper #minerva mcgonagall #hogwarts mystery #hphm fanfiction #fanfiction

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magicmanias · 5 years

Text

The Trickster’s Wife

Request: “soooo from the prompt list.... I'd like a few please.... 9 + 17 + 22 + 23 + 28 + 30 + 40 + a hell lot of kissing + a little smut (ok a looott) + loki . i know i asked for a lot. Not even sure you wanted it or how this works. I just went with the flow I'm guilty... i just want that loki love😈 . or don't do it, i would understand 😅”

9. “I’m not even going to ask.”

17. “This is not something a parent teaches their child.”

22. “What’s the fun in that?”

23. “You wanna mess some shit up?”

28. “That’s going to hurt tomorrow.”

30. “I think I’m in love.”

40. “Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.”

Pairing: Loki × Reader

Summary: Loki teaches your daughter magic.

Warnings: fluff, implied smut (sorry, I know, I’m such a p*ssy lol)

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Sorry this took so long. Anyways, enjoy, anon! I hope you notice I wrote it. Ha ha.

“Loki! Oh God, Loki!”

“Y/N? What do you need? Is it the baby?”

“Yeah, I-I think it’s coming! Ah,” you groaned at the feeling of another contraction coming. “We have to go. Now.”

Loki went pale and his hands shook. “A-Alright, ok let’s go to the hospital.”

“I don’t know if I’ll make it to the hospital.” You gasped. “My water just broke. The baby is coming now!”

“Did someone call?” Tony, in his suit, came flying down and landed at your front door. “We got a helicopter waiting for you guys.”

“Ah! Oh,” you screamed out in the helicopter. “Can this thing go any faster? I have a person coming out of me. Oh, God!”

Loki gripped your hand. He shook with anxiety. “We’ll be there soon, my love.”

“I’m never doing this again,” you winced and threw your head back.

Several minutes later, you landed at the hospital, where the rest of the Avengers were waiting. The nurses made them wait in the waiting room.

Loki huffed and ran out of the delivery room. “It’s a girl!” And he ran back into the delivery room. Tony, Clint, Bucky, and Sam groaned.

“Fuck,” Clint pulled his wallet out. “I should have known it was a girl.”

“How would you have known?” Natasha asked as she grabbed Clint’s money.

“It’s Y/N, dude. Girl always gets what she wants,” Sam said.

“I have a niece!” Thor practically boomed. He probably woke up the whole hospital.

You held your child in your arms. She was wrapped in a green blanket. She looked so peaceful as she slept in your arms. The team slipped into the delivery room to see the new addition to their family.

“So, what are we naming the newest princess of Asgard?” Thor asked, bouncing up and down on his feet like a child.

“Loki?” you turned to your husband, who could not stop staring at his baby daughter. He looked at her like she was everything.

“I think you should tell them, my dear. You came up with the name.”

“Her name is Diana Frigga Lokidottir.”

“Frigga?” Steve asked.

“After our mother,” Thor smiled and patted Loki on the back. “She would like that, brother.” Loki gave a tight-lipped smile at the mention of their mother.

“And where did you get Diana from?” Natasha asked.

“Well, it was the name of a Roman goddess, so we figured it would suit the daughter of a god. And it also means divine, which we thought would suit her as well,” you explained. “Although come to think of it, we should have named her something that related to trickery. Like her father.” You smirked at Loki.

“Oh God, there’s going to be another one,” Clint realized.

“Meet your family Diana,” you cooed. “They’re always going to love you, and protect you, and when you’re old enough, they’ll teach you to kick some major ass.”

“This kid is real lucky, having a mom like you Y/N,” Steve nodded at you. “You’re going to make a great mother.”

“Yeah she is lucky,” you agreed. “But it’s because she has you all to call her family. I mean, can you imagine being born into the Avengers. Now that’s something.”

“Just like her.” Loki kissed Diana’s temple and continued to admire her.

You walked into the kitchen and began to pull the chairs away from your dining table. You proceeded to wipe down the table as you brush the fly-aways of your hair out of your face.

“Wow, this child can make such a mess,” you huffed as you picked up your daughter’s paintbrushes. Even at five, she was already a pretty decent little artist. You always knew the daughter of a God would be special, but Diana... Now she was truly a marvel.

As you finished putting your daughter’s art supplies away, you started to think about the times you had caught your husband planning all sorts of schemes with her. Of course, she had to inherit his keenness for trickery.

“Diana? Diana, it’s time to give you a bath.” You looked in her room, but she wasn’t there. You looked in the kitchen, but she wasn’t there. You looked in your bedroom, but she wasn’t there. Now that you thought about it, you couldn’t find Loki either. Suddenly, you heard giggling and a deep chuckle.

You peeked inside the study to find your daughter and your husband sitting on the ground, hunched over a piece of paper. They looked intense as if they were planning a jewel heist.

“Okay daddy, you magic Uncle Steve’s coffee while I distract Uncle Thor,” your daughter said, pointing to the paper. There were little stick figures on it. You cleared your voice to get their attention.

Loki and Diana shot their heads up to look at you, standing in the doorway. They both had the funniest “oh shit” looks on their faces, but you kept your composure.

“I’m not even going to ask,” you turned to walk out the door to let them continue to plan their prank. You stopped your leave and said, “But if Steve catches you two, I’m not testifying.” And you continued to walk away.

“What’s testifying?” your daughter pulled at her father’s shirt.

“I don’t know. Some Midgardian strategy for justice,” Loki brushed it off. “Wanna mess some shit up?”

“MOMMY! DADDY SAID A BAD—” Loki put a silence spell on her to keep her from ratting him out.

Diana tried to continue to yell out to you, but found that she wasn’t producing any sound. She pouted at her father, as he had done this before.

“If you don’t tell your mother, I’ll get you ice cream after we prank Uncle Steve,” Loki told her, lowering himself to her level. Diana vigorously nodded her head.

You snapped out of your reminiscing to the sound of a loud boom. You were instantly filled with fear concerning the safety of your daughter. You sprinted to her room and threw the door open.

Instead of finding what you feared, you found your husband with Diana and a large array of feather falling to the ground. Diana giggled at the chaos in her room.

“What happened?” you asked, trying to quell your anxiety.

“I’m teaching our daughter some spells,” Loki grinned proudly. “She seems to like the one that causes things to burst.”

You sighed, “Can I talk with you?” You were angry and Loki could tell. Loki’s eyes widened in fear. He was afraid of the face you made. Although he would never admit it, he feared you when you were angry. He stood up and walked out the door. “Diana, no more magic until we come back, ok?”

Diana frowned, “Ok, mommy.”

You closed the door behind yourself and turned to Loki.

“Darling, I would just like to—”

“That is not something a parent teaches their child,” you gritted your teeth and pointed an accusatory finger at your husband.

“I’m not exactly like most parents,” Loki replied, smirking.

“This is not a game, Loki. She’s five!” You whispered so Diana wouldn’t hear. “You can’t teach her stuff like that right now.”

“What’s the fun in that? On Asgard, my mother taught me magic at this age,” he defended. He sounded annoyed.

“We’re not on Asgard!” You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Look, I just don’t want her to get in trouble. She’s smart, Loki. But she’s also sensitive. She could hurt someone.”

“I see.” Loki looked down and furrowed his eyebrows. “You don’t want her to become what I am.”

“No, Loki. You’re like that anymore.”

“But I was like that at one point. And you fear she might become the monster that I was?” Loki raised his voice.

“Loki, that’s not what I meant.”

“That’s what it sounded like.”

“I just don’t want you to teach her dangerous spells at this age. You can teach her magic,” you assured, “as long as it’s safe for her and the people around her.” You held Loki’s face in your hands and met your eyes with his. “I trust you.”

Loki kissed you. He pulled away from your lips and said, “I think I’m in love.”

“Oh really?” you smirked. “Well, it’s about time you told me. We’ve been married for seven years.” Loki smiled and kissed you again.

"Ew!" a small voice interrupted your kiss. "Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!" your daughter shut her eyes and walked out of her room. You and Loki laughed.

She turned back around to face you and Loki. You realized that purple sparks surrounded her.

“Loki, what spell is she doing?”

“Oh god. She’s doing the defence spell I taught her. It knocks people off their feet.”

“Diana, no wai—” A purple blast shot out from her and knocked you and Loki off your feet.

Loki groaned and sat up, “That’s going to hurt tomorrow.”

“Oops, sorry mommy,” Diana apologized and rushed over to you. “I just got excited.” You pulled her into a hug. “It’s ok, peanut.”

“Ok, mommy. I’m going to go paint.” She rushed off into the kitchen.

“Diana Frigga Lokidottir, you still need to take a bath.”

“And maybe after that, you can take a bath with me,” Loki suggested, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“If you have enough patience to wait your turn.”

“For you,” Loki cooed. “I’d wait.”

“Wait for what?” Diana asked, waddling back into the hallway.

“Um, nothing,” you said quickly. “Go get in the bath!”

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dr-m-r-ma · 5 years

Text

The Design in Her Mind

Part 2/?

Genre: drama, romance Rating: PG-13 Group: Monsta X

Summary: Sooyeon meets Monsta X by chance on the streets when they try to help her and her friends shake off creepers, but the meeting ends on a sour note. Some time later, Sooyeon meets the boys again, but at Starship’s headquarters. Although they act cold to each other, Shownu becomes more and more curious about her.

Disclaimer: This is 100% fictional and my own story. It is unrelated to the actual events and real persons of Monsta X and Starship. In regards to this particular fic, I’ve created new K-Pop groups and Sooyeon Kim is my original character. Parts will be written in Korean with English translations. I did not major/study in English/Korean, nor was I ever strong in English/Korean grammar, so there will be grammatical mistakes. This fanfic is written in third person and past-tense for ease of writing.

November 14 Shit.

“잘할 수 있지?” (Translation: “Think you’ll do okay?”)

Sooyeon warily looked at her cousin and simply sighed. She looked up at the company building, only realizing now what she was getting herself into. If she knew what company the interview was for, she would have thought twice about it and maybe contemplated a bit more.

Biting her lip nervously, she looked back at her cousin, who also glanced back, but with more strength. Her cousin patted Sooyeon and said, “괜찮아. 내친구한테 네 사정 얘기했으니까, 괜찮을거야. 그냥 연습한 대로 하면 돼.” (Translation: “It’s okay. I told my friend your situation, so it’ll be okay. Just do it like how you practiced.”)

At that, her cousin lightly pushed Sooyeon towards the building. Sooyeon turned back once to look at her cousin, then closed her eyes to gather her professional attitude. When she opened her eyes again, her back was straight and she walked confidently towards the interview hall.

“STARSHIP ENTERTAINMENT GLOBAL BUSINESS TEAM: GLOBAL BUSINESS DEVELOPMENT ASSOCIATE INTERVIEW IN SESSION”

< 30 minutes later >

As Sooyeon walked out of the interview hall, she replayed the interview in her mind, feeling somewhat good about how she presented herself. If she got the job, cool, but if she didn’t… she wasn’t going to feel that bad about it. Walking towards the exit, she suddenly felt a chill running up her spine and looked in the direction of the source. When her eyes met with the person who was causing the chill, she felt the energy drain from her body even more than when she was in the interview. Damn. It. All.

Kihyun stared at her before nudging Jooheon and I.M. and whispering to them. She quickly whipped her head to the side and looked away, trying to avoid their stares as best as she could. She had hoped he wouldn’t recognize her since she looked quite different from before -- like all interviewees, Sooyeon was dressed in a sharp black blazer, simple white blouse and tapered black slacks. Her black heels made her stand taller than before, and her makeup was done simple enough for her to stand out a little bit more than other candidates.

Despite her different appearance, she could feel the gazes on her. Did they notice? Did he forget? Are they questioning it? Picking up the pace, she quickly speed-walked out the exit on the side of the building.

Without looking back, Sooyeon sprinted for her cousin’s car in her heels, in hopes of avoiding other people she recognized from that day. As she swung the door open and slammed it shut, she peeked out the window every so slightly. Her body slouched low enough for it to be covered by the car door, and only her eyes and forehead were visible from the tinted window.

“왜그러냐?” (Translation: “What’s wrong with you?”) Her cousin asked with slight amusement and confusion.

Sooyeon ignored her for a second to look around before leaning her seat back and laying low. She motioned her cousin to drive and said, “그냥 빨리 가!” (Translation: “Just go!”)

When they had been on the road for about ten minutes, Sooyeon’s cousin finally asked again, “그래서… 잘 안 될것 같아? 무슨 실수 했어?” (Translation: “So… you don’t think you did well? Did you make a mistake?”)

Sooyeon sighed, “아니… 뭐… 괜찮게 한 것 같은데…” (Translation: “No… well… I think I did okay… but…”) Thinking back to Kihyun’s stare, she wondered if it was a cold stare or if it was a confused stare, but the she remembered how he whispered to Jooheon and I.M. She sank lower into her seat and mumbled in English, “ugh… I might get cut for different reasons….”

“엥? 왜?? 괜찮게 했데메??? 야, 친구한테 부탁했으니까 괜찮아 -- 잘 했으면 됐어.” (Translation: “Huh? Why?? I thought you said you did okay??? Hey, it’s going to be okay since I asked my friend -- it’s going to be fine if you did well.”) Even though her cousin reassured her, Sooyeon looked outside the window glumly. She wasn’t sure how her cousin explained her situation to the friend and how high up the friend was to pull strings, but she didn’t bother telling her cousin the bad feeling she got after the interview.

November 15 Welp. I’m just going to pretend I don’t remember them. Just erase them from my memories. Yep. That’ll do it.

< The night before >

Vera: So! How! Did!1 It! Go!! 8:30pm

Soo: …………. 8:32pm

Nicole: it’s ok maybe next time! 8:33pm

Soo: ………. I got it. 8:35pm

Vera: ASDKF;J CONGRATS!!!! 8:35pm

Nicole: CONGRATSSSSS! 8:36pm

Vera: Hey this calls for a night out! Let’s meet up at XX Club in half an hour yah? 8:37pm

Soo: Uh idk.. 8:38pm

Nicole: *insert Mean Girls meme* get in loser, we’re celebrating YOUR NEW JOB 8:38pm

Vera: I’m not taking no for an answer, if you don’t meet us there in half an hour, I’m going to call the police and tell them my friend locked herself at home and I don’t know what she’ll do. 8:40pm

Vera: You also better be dressed properly for the occasion or else…! 8:40pm

Soo: omfg ok! I’m going!! 8:41pm

Sooyeon checked her watch -- 9:30pm -- and sighed in frustration. She waited outside the club, scratching her heel against the sidewalk. It was normal for Nicole to be late, but Vera? Not so much. Checking her watch again, she pulled out her phone to text Vera.

Right then, voices called out to her: “SOOOO!!!”

She looked up and cringed at the sight -- Vera and Nicole dressed nice for the club, but carried strings of large balloons in their hands and party glasses on their faces. The juxtaposition of fancy and silly looked so absurd, Sooyeon tried to avoid the attention pouring from bystanders by looking away and heading towards the entrance of the club.

As she heard footsteps quickening, Sooyeon braced herself for the impact and lo and behold, Vera slammed her body into Sooyeon.

Sooyeon grunted while Vera asked, “Where do you think you’re going without your guards?” She swung her arm around Sooyeon, grinning at Sooyeon’s annoyed expression. Nicole simply rolled their eyes at her and they walked up to the short line into the club. As Vera took out her ID, Sooyeon let her eyes wander to the glowing streets.

“헐.” (Translation: “Whoa.”)

The three girls turned to the voice and Sooyeon’s blank expression slowly morphed into a deep frown. What… the actual fuck? Am I cursed, or what?

He already knew from her side profile that it was the same person. Despite her completely different appearance, the complete different atmosphere she had, he could already tell it was her. His eyes swept over her loose curls, her bare shoulders, her dress hugging tightly against her body and her heels that made her legs look longer. She looked so different, he just couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Actually, she looked so breathtakingly beautiful, his heart fluttered and didn’t stop dancing around.

Shownu’s first thought was definitely whoa but he didn’t think he said it out loud. When the girls turned to face him and his eyes met hers, he couldn’t help but choke on his own spit.

As he turned around to cough to hide his embarrassment, Hyungwon squinted at the girls and whispered, “왜그래? 아는 사람이야?” (Translation: “What’s wrong? Do we know that person?”)

Wonho peeked from the other side and squinted at the girls as well. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but they did seem familiar.

Glancing back at Shownu, it dawned on Wonho. He snickered, “아~~~ 그 여자네!” (Translation: “Oh~~~ it’s that girl!”) When Hyungwon looked back at him in confusion, Wonho rolled his eyes. “왜, 몇달전에… 그리고 오늘 기현이가 봤단 그 여자.” (Translation: “You know, from a few months ago… and that girl that Kihyun said he saw today.”)

Hyungwon’s eyes widened at that, as he covered his mouth with both of his hands. Then, glancing at the back of Shownu’s head, he lowered his hands. Pointing at Shownu’s head, Hyungwon whispered to Wonho, “뭐야 -- 그럼 저러는게… 설마??” (Translation: “Wait -- then him being like that is… no way??”)

Shownu could feel the back of his head burning from Hyungwon’s and Wonho’s stares, while his ears flared with heat. For a moment, he thought to maybe walk away from it all, even though he knew he was caught from both sides. However, a voice chirped from her side.

“혹시… 시간 있으세요?” (Translation: “Do you perhaps… have time?”)

그여자 목소리는 아닌것 같은데… (Translation: ‘I don’t think it’s that girl’s voice…’) He slowly turned around on his heels and saw one of her friends peek out and ask the question. The girl on his mind, on the other hand, slapped her friend on the back and whispered something in a seemingly angry way.

Hyungwon and Wonho were already whispering in shock that the other girls could speak Korean, while Shownu was trying to rack his brain to think of something to say. It was clearly the beginning of an invitation and when he looked up at where they were going into… no way could he be caught clubbing with a group of girls.

Wonho was already onto it and responded politely, “아, 죄송합니다, 지금 어디 가는길이라서… 안--” (Translation: “Oh, sorry, we were actually going somewhere right now… so I don’t--”)

“야, 갑자기 모르는 사람들한테 왜 물어봐? 원래 우리 셋이서 노는거였잖아.” (Translation: “Hey, why are you suddenly asking people we don’t know? We planned for just us three to hang out.”)

Shownu’s head whipped up at the sound of her voice. Although her words weren’t all that friendly, he couldn’t help but smile when he heard her voice. For some reason, it sounded different, paired with her different style of appearance and atmosphere. He played back the scene from a couple of months ago, and despite how annoyed she sounded in his memories, he still felt the same pull towards her.

Much to Wonho’s chagrin, he saw Shownu internally melt even though her words were cold. Even though Shownu had an unreadable, neutral smile on his face, and even though he stood calmly, Wonho could tell his friend was shaken. For some strange reason. So he plastered on a business smile and waved bye, before pushing Shownu forward.

Maybe she felt bad, because she quietly mumbled a quick “죄송합니다” (Translation: “sorry”) and nodded her head for a small bow. She too, shoved her friends forward, and into the boisterous club they went.

The boys ended up not hearing the rest of the conversation, in which Vera pouted, “What a waste… we could’ve had more fun with those guys… they seemed interested too!”

Sooyeon frowned and hissed, “How can you not remember? We saw them a month ago at the university and you were so pissed at how they were talking to us!” Nicole nodded in agreement, and Vera stared at the two cluelessly.

“I was like that? To those A-ranking guys?!”

*** TBC ***

A/n: part 2 was so short i combined it with part 3 (lol) also (lmao) my uneven line breaks...

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