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redhoodssweetheart · 3 years

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Moonlight II

Genre: DC/Marvel Crossover

Relationship: Older!Damian Wayne x Adopted Stark!Fem!Reader

Requested: No (Only a few requests are open, please see pinned post for details)

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, swearing, canon typical violence

Description: You are the adopted daughter of Tony Stark, Damian is the son of Bruce Wayne. Your two fathers hate each other which by extension should mean that you and Damian are on less than friendly terms. The issue? You’ve been dating for little over a year and have been keeping it a secret. What will happen if your fathers figure it out?

A/N: I actually hadn’t planned on this ending the way it did, but as I was writing it this is just how it happened. Enjoy!

Morning light shown through your window the next morning a few minutes before your alarm went off. Your mind drifted back to the night before with Damian sneaking into your room and inviting you out for an afternoon with his brothers. Excitement coursed through you at the thought of finally meeting them. You quickly got up and began preparing for your day, you were almost done when there was a knock on your door.

When you opened it you discovered Pepper standing there with a bright smile on her face, “Good morning honey, Tony and I were just about to have breakfast, did you want to join us?”

You glanced back at your clock and saw that it was only eight thirty, you had plenty of time to eat before going to meet Damian, “Sure Mom.”

You grabbed the rest of your things before joining Pepper. It had taken you awhile before you had started calling Pepper “mom”. When Tony had first adopted you, you weren’t sure what he and Pepper wanted. It had been some time since you had had a family and you weren’t sure what Tony’s motivations were. Did he just want to look good to the press? Did he want to ease a guilty conscience? Did he just actually want a kid?

Then Morgan had come along. You thought for sure that that would be it for you, they had their own kid now, they wouldn’t want you. But that they hadn’t treated you any differently and you came to think of Morgan as your own sister. You were fiercely protective of her and she loved you to death. She was currently staying with Peter while you and your parents were in Gotham.

Tony greeted you with a hug and a kiss to your temple and began blabbing on and on about the gala the night before. Your mind drifted to Damian and how good he had looked in his suit. Then it went to the stairwell and the night before in your room, you only broke out of it when Tony cleared his throat, “Earth to Y/N, you still with us kid?”

You chuckled nervously, “Sorry just got a little lost in thought is all.”

“Care to share with the group?”

You shook your head, “Oh I was just thinkin’ about all the things I want to get done today. We leave in two days so that’s not a lot of time to see the city.”

“You could always come back later with your friends,” Pepper suggested. “I’m sure a vacation would be good for you.”

You smiled at her, “Yeah, you’re right, it would be nice.” You glanced at the clock on your phone and saw that it was creeping closer to nine thirty, you had to be at the park by ten to meet Damian. You stood and said, “Thanks for breakfast, but I want to go ahead and get a headstart on today. I’ll see you at dinner.” You kissed Pepper on the cheek and gave Tony a hug before dashing out of the hotel room.

Tony looked at the door you had just exited from and said, “I don’t think she wants to be around us any more.” Pepper merely patted his arm and went back to her breakfast.

You on the other hand were rushing to the park that Damian had mentioned. You were a little worried that someone may see the two of you together, but you honestly also couldn’t care less. Sometimes you were tired of hiding the truth from everyone. You loved Damian and you wanted the world to know that fact, but you worried about what Tony would think or do when he found out. You also wondered if Bruce would be understanding or if he would forbid his son from seeing you as well.

You shoved those thoughts from your mind, you didn’t want them affecting your mood any. Today was going to be a good day. And when you made it into the park you immediately saw Damian, he had a baseball cap and sunglasses on trying to hide who he was, but you knew. You could spot him anywhere. He had spotted you as well and you noticed a smile growing on his face as you raced over toward him. Your arms wrapped around him and he gently lifted you off the ground a few inches.

“Hello beloved,” he whispered in your ear before placing a gentle kiss to your cheek.

“Hi,” you said, a grin stretching across your face.

Someone cleared their throat and you could have sworn your heart stopped. You had been caught. It was too good to be true. “Aren’t you going to introduce us, Dami?”

You looked over his shoulder and saw his three brothers standing there all three of them with amused expressions on their faces. Damian practically growled at their words. Knowing that his brothers knew about the two of you made things a little easier. It was like Peter knowing that you and Damian were dating. The two of you needed someone to turn to when things were tough.

You had almost told Pepper one day when you and Damian had had a fight. You needed a motherly figure to go to, but you weren’t sure how she would feel about the two of you together. She wasn’t like Tony, but would she lie to Tony? You weren’t sure, so you decided to keep it a secret.

You had gone to Natasha despite never really talking to her.

She was in the training room at the Avengers' Compound and you approached her nervously. “Nat, could I talk to you for a moment?”

She had paused what she was doing and turned to you, giving you her full undivided attention, “What can I do for you Y/N?”

You rubbed your arm and said, “If I share a secret will you promise not to tell Dad?”

Natasha’s interest was piqued, “I mean as long as you aren’t in any danger then yeah I can promise not to tell him.”

“I’m dating Damian Wayne,” you said and you watched as her eyes lit up. “Oh God, please tell me you’re not going to use this against me?”

She chuckled, “I promise not to tell him or anyone else. How did this even happen?”

You launched into the tale of how you and Damian had been sworn enemies, always competing against one another and how it had turned to friendship and then to what it was now. You told her about the fight that you couldn’t even remember now, and she gave you her opinions.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you all,” you told them with a bright smile. “Damian talks about you a lot and I’ve been begging him to let me meet you all since you found out about our little affair.”

“They were supposed to give us a few moments alone before ambushing you,” Damian said, his tone clearly stating how unamused he was with his brothers. “But clearly they didn’t take my feelings into account.”

“You’ve been keeping her to yourself for over a year now,” Dick said, his easy going smile never slipping from his face. “We just wanted to meet her.”

Tim nodded his head in agreement, “Don’t get mad, Dami. She’s only here for a few more days and then she’s on her way back to New York.”

You poked Damian on the side, “They have a point, Damian. I don’t mind meeting them now, we have plenty of time to be alone together.”

He still looked disgruntled but you let the boys show you around Gotham. They had an SUV with tinted windows to hide who was inside. The boys were recognizable and so were you. The five of you would be on the front page of all the gossip magazines by tomorrow and everyone and their mother would know that maybe you didn’t play into the whole feud your fathers had going on.

You could see the headlines now:

Real-life Romeo and Juliet with Children of Bruce Wayne and Tony Stark

Y/N Stark and Damian Wayne Making Headlines as Secret Affair

How Long Have These Star-Crossed Lovers Been Together?

You wondered how long it would take Tony to kick you out of the house and never speak to you again. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to tell Tony, he deserved to know. It was just that you didn’t know what he would do when he found out the truth. You knew how much he hated Bruce Wayne, and to be fair Tony didn’t think straight on a lot of things when emotions ran high. He would definitely say something that would hurt and he might regret later.

But knowing your father he would be too proud to admit that he was wrong.

Damian noticed the look on your face and nudged you, “You okay?”

You smiled and took his hand in yours, “Yeah just thinking.”

“About your dad?” He furrowed his brow, the two of you had had many talks about your fathers and their reaction to the two of you coming clean about how you weren’t really enemies.

You leaned your head back and blew out a breath, “I’m just… worried.”

Damian squeezed your hand and said, “Whenever you want to tell him, I’ll be there to support you. And if you want to tell Father first we could while you’re still here. He may put on a show of hating Stark, but I don’t think he’d begrudge you.”

“Damian’s right,” Dick said from the driver’s side. “Bruce looks like he would be the type to throw a fit and tell Damian to get out, but he’s actually not that big of an asshole.”

You laughed, “You saying Stark is an asshole, Grayson?”

“If he doesn’t I will,” Jason turned and grinned at you making you laugh. “No offense.”

“None taken, I know my father can be less than welcoming and let his mouth get him into trouble.” You didn’t have enough fingers to count the times your father had gotten into trouble because his mouth had gotten the better of him. “I just wish I knew if he would be okay with us. That he wouldn’t let the feud get in the way of realizing how happy I am.”

Leaning over Damian kissed your cheek. “So should I set a course for the manor?” Dick asked.

“It’s up to you,” Damian said. “Father will be discreet.”

Taking a steadying breath you said, “Let’s do it.” The boys cheered and Damian once again squeezed your hand to let you know that he would be with you every step of the way.

#Damian Wayne x Reader #Damian Wayne x Fem!Reader #Damian Wayne x Stark!Reader #Damian Wayne x Reader fluff #Damian Wayne x Reader angst #Damian Wayne #Damian Wayne fanfic #Damian Wayne fanfiction #Damian Wayne fluff #Damian Wayne angst

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mskimkaty · 3 years

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URS| J.JH

Fluff, smut

wc: 5k

synopsis: One thing led to another, and you didn’t meant to fuck up, majorly.

warnings: smut, smut with plot, unprotected sex, manhandling, swearing.

"Come on. I promise you it will be fun." You rolled your eyes for god knows how many times as you scan through your biology book. You have an essay due tomorrow and you're idiotic of a brother is asking you to come party tomorrow Friday night.

"Oppa, Really. I have so many papers piling up, and I can't afford to slack off. Ask Taeyong or Johnny Oppa or someone! I know for a fact that you have tons of friends, why are you bothering me?" You brush the strands that poke on your forehead and continued with what you're doing, you're one blunt girl but your brother isn't having any of it today. You heard your Doyoung lets out a sigh and you almost dance in victory assuming that he's gonna kiss your head goodbye and let you have the peace you deserve.

"They are going! Don't you want to come? Everyone's coming including your friends." He pleaded once more and your eyes instantly shoot up at him.

Did they just bail on you on a Friday night? You asked yourself— Maybe, They did.

You continued typing on your laptop while scanning the book placed on your right side. "I don't know, Oppa. I have tons to do. But I'll let you k— fine! I'll come! Okay!" You surrender once You saw that he won't back down from talking and You just need your own sweet peaceful time back. Finally, Doyoung kisses the side of your head "It's a deal, Here is your fav, caramel macchiato," He hands you the drink with a shit-grinning smile that makes him a look like a bunny beading you goodbye before reminding you that's it's a settled deal.

Seriously, he won't last a second with you once he spots his brothers from his damn frat house. You decided to call Seulgi and ask if they really are coming and that imbecile brother of yours, practically lied to your face without blinking. But since it's a Friday night, Seulgi decides to ask the others to come.

On Friday night, the others basically made you a living doll, pampering you here and there, applying cosmetics, and choosing an outfit for you.

"You can't do that, Sooyoung-ah! Y/N's very conservative in that area!" Joohyun shouted at Sooyoung for choosing a black off-shoulder that clings on your shapes like a second skin and deeps lowly in your chest area, the material is thick enough to keep you from the cold air but it leaves you with bare shoulders—still, you don't think it's a good idea, It was already getting cold. "Yeah, that's my main purpose. She has the biggest boobs in this room, why not be proud and parade it? Yah, don't be embarrassed by God's gift, a lot of women want big boobs, especially someone like yours, It's not small but it's not that big to look awkward either, plus, women pay loads of money to have that kind of boobs," She stated.

"I can't believe we're talking about my body parts," you muster all the courage not to punch this Unnie for blabbing nonsense but everyone agreed, either way. "Please don't let me wear that," You begged, already hating the idea. "Unnie, that's too low, just one accidental pull and-" you were cut off from talking when Wendy smirks at you. "Who's going to pull your top? Unless if you're going to have a productive night and let someone pull it down, then yes, definitely. You're going to parade your boobs,"

She's in the fashion department together with Sooyoung and nothing or no one is stopping the two of them when it comes to deciding someone's attire and their opinions are always validated especially when it comes to clothes.

"You gotta be kidding me!" You move out of Sooyoung's hold when Seulgi showed you a nipple tape. "Yah! Kim Y/n! stop acting like a Goddamn pre-schooler and use this already!" Sooyoung Shouted grabbing your arms again and caging you using her arms around your neck.

Fuck your life.

Fuck growing up as a conservative chick, it was hard when you grew up with two older brothers, basically growing up wearing varsity shorts and not the colorful skirts like a normal girl would do. You did go with that off-shoulder top pairing it with a white tennis skirt. Totally parading your cleavage and shoulders not to mention the lack of shorts for protection under your skirt making you want to turn back and walk your way out of this goddamn house. "Hey, look guys I have big boobs." Written in your forehead. Seriously, they won't let you live a peaceful life.

Upon arriving at your brother's frat house, you heard someone whistle "If it isn't our baby Y/n!" Yuta hollered when they spotted Sooyoung and you walking in the foyer towards the inside of the house. It was already packed, empty vodka and beer bottles are already scattered at the side of the kitchen, there was a huge container at the center island that contains different kinds of beers placed in a stack of ice cubes. Your mouth watered. You wouldn't mind a good cold beer.

"Cut it out Yuta, She's not a baby anymore," Seulgi retorted already chugging her second bottle down her throat "I know! It's just that it's my first time seeing her with a skirt and not her brother's pants on." Yuta received dirty glances from the others and a hard punch from Jungwoo who hugged you— his baby sister protectively. You felt Jungwoo's knuckles hit you on your head and you pout your lip at him, "Yah, what are you wearing?" he asks you,

"I know I look ridiculous," you say as you rolled your eyes at him. Jungwoo doesn't think that you looked ridiculous, it's just that, he wasn't used to seeing you wearing girl clothes and not the usual ones where he and Doyoung don't need to protect you from prying eyes around.

"Fuck you, That's my sister you're talking about." Doyoung gives him a playful nudge and Yuta only smiles wickedly like a perverted mad man, you were used to him, though. He was just being himself and teasing you. You were thankful, for hyping you up, so you felt a little confident as you grab for a beer after Donghyuck gives you your first shot of tequila for the night, your throat instantly heats up as you take the liquid in, the night is long.

"Yeah, I'll remember this you fucking moron," you joked, probably ignoring him for the rest of the evening, jokingly. "So this is the famous Phi kappa house," Wendy says looking around, spotting Eunwoo in the process from the living room walking towards your group with Jaehyun in tow, walking behind him while holding a beer in his hand and his phone in the other.

You actually don't know him that very well since you're still a freshman, and you just heard he's from the Architecture department, one of your brother's new frat brothers, Sooyoung mounted that Jaehyun was in an exchange program and was originally from the states, you see him for a few times around campus but that was that. You never greeted each other, unlike the others, or even acknowledge one another.

You scan the living room where everyone is getting wasted from every corner of the house. "Where's Johnny by the way?" Irene asked no one in particular scanning the area. "Getting laid," Eunwoo said pulling Wendy to sit on his lap. There was a brief emotion in her eyes that you can't decipher but you ignore it anyway.

"But Mark said he's with him, though?" Seulgi commented while Eunwoo only shrugged. Yuta and Donghyuck handed each one of you your drinks. Another strong scent of vodka makes it way up to your nostrils, your head spins just by smelling it, Sooyoung grimace at the smell, "This is basically; Vodka with a drop of juice in it."

"Watch out, Noona. The Juice is probably for color only." He whispers and she winces more. "Who the fuck even mixed this?" She asks as she took a sip at her drink. Jaehyun laughs at her.

"Jung fucking Jaehyun!! you little shit," She hollered. "Sorry, Noona." he winks at her and you watch the both of them in the sides. You wished socializing was that easy. You hate how awkward you get sometimes.

"Y/n's not good at drinking." You heard your older brother says and you look at him. "It's fine, let the girl cut some slack besides we have tons of people in the group to take care of her later," Johnny says after suddenly appearing at your side with Mark hugging you. "My favorite human being- Girl, What the fuck are you wearing?!" Mark's hands stayed on your waist and Jungwoo watched as Jaehyun's eyes linger on where Mark's hands was placed around you, he only smiled wickedly as he watches his Hyung chug on his bear problematically.

You gather the courage to drink the vodka in just one gulp. The strong taste leaving a trace in your mouth down your throat. It leaves a cool sensation but at the same time drawing a burning line down your throat. You accidentally made a weird sound and you sounded like a drowning piranha. The others only looked at each other and then bursting out laughing after registering the weird sound you made. Donghyuck hugged you after shouting "My Noona, so cute!!" at the top of his lungs while hugging you tightly.

The night went by, the sound booming in the house as you jam to it in the corner with Jungwoo, Mark, and Donghyuck, Jaehyun tagging along. Sipping in your vodka now and then.

"I'm going out, it's too suffocating in here," I blurted clumsily. As I start to walk, you felt Mark's hands in your arms. "Why?" you asked.

"You're drunk. You don't really think I will let you go on your own. In a party- looking like that." Mark says protectively. "Come with me then." You asked. Mark looked in front feeling conflicted, you followed his gaze and you saw him eyeing a girl who was basically eye-fucking him in return. "Suit yourself." You turn to Donghyuck who were busily conversing with another girl in the side. "I can't believe you choose to get your dick wet first rather than keeping your best friend company." you turn to Jaehyun who was looking at you. "I'll come with you, I was thinking of getting a smoke either way," Jungwoo says.

You clumsily withdraw from Mark's grip. "Fine, I'll take my boring of a brother with me then." Mark nodded seemingly unaffected and Jaehyun only laughs at him as he shakes his head.

You decided to hang in the garden area. "Wait- hey," you turned to face him "Just a minute," Jaehyun leaves his bottle behind before grabbing his leather jacket. You stop mid-sentence a big what the hell is written on your face. "You're not my brother. Where the hell is my brother?" you asked your eyes unfocused. Jaehyun put his jacket on, his bubbly facade was completely gone as he turns to you.

"Well, for starters, you drag me here," Jung Jaehyun says "Oh- my bad. You can go back if you'd like." you sit on one of the chairs in the garden. Closing your eyes in the process waiting for him to walk away but you hear the clang of metal and a chair being dragged instead. You opened your eyes knowingly. Jaehyun, sitting in front of you.

"Well, fresh air isn't that bad, either," like you, Jaehyun closes his eyes for a moment, basking in the silence with the soft bass booming in the background "But it's your party, you should go back, Oppa." you watch him for a second but decides to close your eyes again, the fatigue drowning into your body suddenly, hearing you call him that does wonders inside of him, you honestly don't mind calling him that even though you both weren't in terms to have that kind of relationship yet but you consider all your brother's friends who are much older than you a close friend already.

Jaehyun was wearing his usual black t-shirt with his denim ripped jeans, with his white clean snickers making a sound as he tapped on the floor probably jamming to the music from the house. He always wears black shirts, If not black you sometimes see him wearing white, he was so basic when it comes to his clothes but still looks good that it's maddening. Not that you're checking him out on a daily basis, you had eyes, and you always see him everywhere.

"It's my house, but not my party." He says as you continued drinking from the cup you were holding, you tried offering him the cup you were holding and he reached out for it, you watched the way his Adam's apple move in fascination.

You blinked the thoughts away. The drink making you feel hot, "So why did you transfer here?" you tried making small talks just to ignore the unwanted thoughts about him. He smiled and cocks his head to the side, his smile becoming faint as he stares at your drunken state. you can barely keep your eyes open but still sip from the same cup the both of you were sharing.

"Okay, that's enough." He blurted messily. Even he can't form the right words to say. "Enough with the drinking." He added.

"Are you trying to babysit me?" you asked. Dumbfounded. You laughed at the idea. "You haven't answered my question, though." you sit with your legs crossed and you put your forearms on your knees leaning closer to him, Jaehyun sees the deep in your top, your cleavage showing more than intended, skin glistening under the lights, he moved his eyes away from your form, mentally cursing.

"I just needed the scholarship and the University offered one so I took it." He says, that made you confused for a second, "I thought your family is loaded?" you asked. "Were comfortable," he answered you. Disbelief was written on your face "Isn't that what super-rich Asian kids answer with that type of questions?" he laughs at you. "Both my sisters are also a scholar back at home, I had to be a little competitive, it runs in the family."

Damn.

"They do?" you asked. He shifted his gaze everywhere but you. For some reason you wanted his attention on you, there was a sudden change in his demeanor as the mood between the both of you change, "You're making this hard for me." He says with finality. You tilt Your head to the side. "Then, aren't you going to do something about it ?" you asked laughing. You stood up walking back to the house. He's head moving as his eyes study every move you make, you back up and turn to face him,

"Y/n, I don’t do one night stand," He blurted his lips forming a tight line after, Jaehyun walks to you, grabbing you by the waist, you grab at the back of his neck, taking your time and looking at his lips with the same want he gives. "Then, this is our day one." you say your last words before pulling him for a kiss.

Kissing Jaehyun felt- wet, You felt his arms circle your waist as he hoists you up to cradle him, making you break the kiss. "Won’t you regret this in the morning?" He manages to ask before you dig to taste his lips again. "I still think you’re drunk and will probably regret this in the morning,” He blurted out, you pulled him again lips meeting, “But oppa, that’s not the problem right now, and I really think we should think about that tomorrow.” you convinced him, Jaehyun was having the last bit of patience and he just want to take you to his room and fuck your brain senseless.

This kind of confidence is new to you, though, this wasn't your first time getting laid, it wasn't like you do this normally, either. You still remembered your first time, it was during your senior year, there was this one guy who acts like he swept you off of your feet but doesn't even last 5 minutes into the sex, his dick wasn't small per se, but it wasn't that big either, though, you can't really tell, it's not like you have seen lots of different male sex to compare, you remember it had hurt, and just, hurt in general. He sucked at sex and only minded his own release, penetrating you without getting you wet first. Your mind came back to Jaehyun when he sucks at the skin below your right ear and you shivered at the pleasure. You don't even understand the logic of you kissing Jung Jaehyun when you're not that close. What would Doyoung and Jungwoo think? or how would they even react? "What are you thinking?" Jaehyun broke the kiss once again, feeling that you're somehow distracted. His thumb draws small circles at the inside of your thighs and you cling to him as he walks through the back door to the basement of the house where it was exclusive for the members only. and I'm kissing him.

Once inside, he put you down, "Just thinking of my brothers," you answered. "Please don't tell me you're going to back out and leave me hot and bothered."

"Of course not." you pull him back down and attached your lips to his, Jaehyun broke the kiss once again and lead you to the stairs up to his room, the lack of people made you look at him questioningly but he just pulls at your hand, Jaehyun opened the door to his room, shoving you against it and kissing you desperately. You moaned at the pain shooting at your back, something flashed in his eyes; realizing how manhandling affects you.

He broke the kiss and study your reaction. "You can't keep doing this to me." He manages to say. You were so ready and wet for him, and he's not even doing anything to you besides kissing you. Jaehyun lowered his head on your neck just where your weak spot is and a soft moan escape from your lips.

You pushed him back as you kiss him, backing up until the both of you fell to the mattress of his bed with you straddling him. Tonight was supposed to be just a normal girl's night out. But, here you are making out with Jung Jaehyun, both of your brother's best mate.

You are so fucked up.

Jaehyun lowered his head and attached his lips to your neck, lapping on it just where your weak spot is as a soft moan escapes from your lips. Jaehyun, he can't even control his urges at this point anymore, seems like keeping his hands off of you would be a problem in the future, the heat in his lower body was already rising as he kissed your slightly parted lips. Your body was a victim of him, your sight getting blurry at the intensity of his kisses. Jaehyun run little kisses down your skin, removing your top in one go, as much as he thinks you look fucking good on it, he wants nothing to do with it.

Jaehyun's breath hitched when he saw your bare chest. You mentally pat your head for going against the nipple tape, it would be fucking embarrassing to get rid of it in this situation. He grabs your breast causing you to flinch, a sigh-like moan escaping your lips, His fingers painlessly kneaded the mounds of your breasts, distorting them erotically in his palm.

Jaehyun find your scent sweet, he was marking you inside his head,

Mine,

He was hooked with intense possessiveness and desire, palming you through your undies, making you ark your back against the bed and rubbing your heat against his hands for much better friction, you were so, so close. The heat in your core being unbearable.

"You keep surprising me with how dirty you are," he murmured against your ears when he realized you were just wearing your undies without a protective shorts. Jaehyun played with the hem of your panties before ripping them off you. "Let's keep the skirt, I want to fuck you in it."

"You're fucking unbelievable, Oppa. What am I going to wear later?" you ask while heaving, waiting for his next move that he'll do. Jaehyun took one breast into his mouth and sucked on it, his tongue lapped around your stiff bud, biting it lightly before repeating, something hot flowed from your already wet core, making the two of you stop at your ministration, "fuck, fuck, fuck." you chant like a mantra.

Jaehyun couldn't believe that you're coming just from that. Your body was so responsive that the idea got him rock hard in instant. You turn away when Jaehyun strips from his clothes, embarrassed to see him naked so suddenly, his cock springing up, your mouth watering at the sight, Jaehyun grabs at your ankles when you come down from your high, you turning limp but doesn't protest, spreading you apart and positioning his self between your legs. Then, an overwhelming force suddenly pierced through you in one go, moaning at the delicious stretch you felt with being filled by his cock.

You were a moaning mess by now, Your pupils dilated, choosing to breathe as Jaehyun rams at you anomalistically, you felt dizzy by the sudden intense pleasure of being overstimulated, your sensitive walls squeezed tight as if rejecting him,

Jaehyun growled against your skin, "Fuck, baby, loosen up, You're too tight."

One more thrust and Jaehyun already got you spasming around him, Jaehyun grunted lowly. "How obscene, I just put it in and your body likes it so much." your face heat up in embarrassment, body tightening on him causing him to let out a suppressed groan as he comes undone inside you.

You smirk at him, watching his expression as you flex your thighs around him, prolonging his orgasm, his eyes trembled holding down your forearm above your head, "You like it, Oppa?" you asked smugly at him, tired, and being over-stimulated also by him. "How fun," you wrapped your legs around his waist and tightly squeezed where your lower abdomens met.

"Y/n," He growled, seeing your eyes sparkling with mischievousness, Jaehyun's lips curved oddly, deciding to play the game you were playing, he smirked and grab at your thighs, pulling them apart, he pulled out and rammed back inside, hard. You screamed at the pleasure, you know it was the beginning of a fierce-long night of sex that's seemed to never end. Jaehyun's hard erect cock penetrating endlessly through you, tormenting at the same time pleasuring you.

you screamed against him, forgetting the party going downstairs and ignoring the phone chiming down the floor with all the worried text messages from your brothers and Unnies. Halfway through, the two of you lost your senses with how good the fuck is, you falling asleep as fatigue runs through your body after Jaehyun manages to pull four more orgasms in you.

Rays of the sun coming from the outside sipping through the curtained window were hot against your skin, making you come to your senses. You look at the unfamiliar vicinity, every piece of furniture was unfamiliar to you. A big flat-screen television hangs on the wall in front of the bed. You look down to see your clothes lying together with an unknown shirt and pants on the ground.

You moved slightly. Groaning because of the pain you felt. Horror strikes your face when you registered that someone's arm was draped in your bare stomach.

Holy fucking shit

You lifted your head to see someone sleeping beside you. A mop of brown hair greeted you, thinking hard to remember the past events of last night. Flashbacks of last night start to flood in your memory and you mentally slap your face. You wanted to scream your heart out in pure panic and stupidity but that wouldn't be a nice idea. Instead, you slowly lift his arm, got out of the bed, and pick your clothes up, Horrified at your ripped undies.

you ran to the bathroom as quietly as possible. Turning the faucet on as you see your reflection in the mirror. Red marks were all over your neck and chest. What the hell did you do last night? No, why did you do that last night?!

You quickly get dressed. You need to get the hell out of here before he wakes up and asks you questions even you don't know how to answer yourself, worst being rejected straight up and be doomed for the rest of your college life.

You left. Hopefully, without leaving any traces behind. When you got home Wendy was watching the television. Upon entering, she bombards you with questions, asking why you can't be contacted only then you remembered you don't have your phone with you. fuck, way to go on not leaving any traces behind. You borrowed her phone and tried to dial your number.

"Hello?" a man's voice answered the call and you instantly cut the call off. You know it's him. How can you forget the voice of the man screaming your name against your eras last night?

You change into more comfortable clothes after taking a long cold shower, if only you can remove every trace of what happened last night, the evidence is all over your body. It's already 3 in the afternoon, your headache isn't helping with the situation, and you self-pity yourself in your room.

You cried because of your stupidity. Goddamn that alcohol, You swear to never drink again. You heard a knock on your door. Wendy's head pocking from outside. "Can I come inside?" you manage to say a small yes.

"What happened to you?" She asked. You tried to form a suitable lie inside your head but Wendy bit you to it. "The last time I saw you last night was when you were dragging Jaehyun outside and you two never come back inside, again."

in fact, you did, using the back door.

You know you can easily dodge the question but Instead, the guilt it you out of humiliation. "Unnie, can we not talk about this?" you cried. Wendy left after consulting you once more, you were grateful that she didn't push you to talk about it.

The nect day, Jungwoo visited your apartment handing you, your phone back. "Jaehyun Hyung give this to me, says it was yours." you waited for him to ask you questions about your whereabouts but he didn't, still he didn’t let the opportunity slide to make fun of you and Jaehyun.

On Monday you were at a café near the University's entrance when you felt someone sit next to you, you look up from your book to see who it was and after hours and hours of hiding from that person; here he is sitting next to you.

He dared not to look at you, voluntarily pack your things, ready to escape when you heard him say "You know we need to talk things through." you looked at him in horror. Why can't he just let this slide? why does he care so much? I've been ignoring his calls, He probably put his contact number on your phone before Jungwoo came and returned it to you.

"Can we just pretend that it never happened?" you blurted. "That was a one-night thing. We were both drunk. Can't you just let it be? Just thank me for it. I won't add from all the girls you banged and probably want's your support or want something from you." you harshly retort.

"What?" he asked you frowning, both of you looked at each other before he breaks contact and looks away. instantly turning a bright shade of pink. "Just, forget it." you blurted and walk off.

You vented all your anger in your classes, putting all your focus on every subject, by the time you were done with your last subject, you spotted Jung Jaehyun outside your class waiting, both hands in his jean pockets, his hair looks like he'd been running his fingers on it all day, his white t-shirt was clinging to his body, his orange ID lace tells him from the architect department.

You lowered your head, hugging your books closer in your chest, trying your best to walk past him without him seeing you. "Y/n." warm hands grab your left arm, you jolted from his touch as if you were electrified. You reacted by moving away from him, giving him more space than you intended, Jaehyun on the other hand looks angry. This reaction made him think that you were disgusted with what happened between you two, when you're really not, Halting from your steps you stood face to face with him.

"Oppa, what are you doing?" you asked, looking around as he attempts to hold your arm again but you panicked when you saw some curious eyes on both of you and the last thing you wanted was for the student body's attention on you. You jerk from his touch "I told you to drop this." you whispered, walking away from him but being the tall guy that he is, it made no effort for him to walk up beside you. You fasten your pace but to no avail, was useless to him.

"We need to talk," he said as he drags you to the gym, both of them entered the locker room where the lights were off only the lights coming from the outside were your source to see his face.

His face turns into a frown. "Stop taking me as a joke," he blurted. If he thinks you're taking this or him as a joke, he was wrong. You just want this to never happen and you don't want to be one of those girls on the lists that he victimized, you beg to defer. plus, talk about being scared of the rejection, you don't want it happening to you to the point that you started pushing him away.

"Why? Do you think this is a joke for me? I won't waste my time searching or even waiting for you if I think of this as a joke." shocked was evident on your face and he attempts to touch you. "Don't !" I squealed, putting my hands in the air across his face to stop him. "You know, I told you I don’t do one night stand with just anybody.” he says, you racked your head searching for a specific moment and then you remember how you practically throw yourself at him even going to the lengths of saying that night was your first day as a couple.

"I feel disgusted by myself don't you know that? you want to talk? Fine, I don't want to be rejected, honestly, I'm saving my face from the humiliation, we had sex," you hysterically said. "Just because we were both drunk!"

you breathed some air in your lungs, a dumbfounded Jaehyun in front of you. "Don't look at me like that."

"You don't understand," he said seriously. “Im not taking no as an answer, you brought this up on your ownself.”

"What? don't understand what?" you asked. you ran your fingers through your hair, seriously getting tired of this. both of you were just running in circles. you couldn’t believe Jaehyun was like this, like a lost puppy, looking like a lost puppy, "If you think I don't understand the situation, then don't you think you should elaborate it more for me?" you asked. You both locked eyes, he's obviously thinking, finding the right words to talk you into this. He put his hands in his pockets. "This is different, at least for me," was the only thing he said.

"I don't believe you. and I don't need you to be responsible," you said. "Oppa, Just please forget it," you turn around and walk once again ready to leave him as a handgrip your arm but this time pulling you back harshly to be faced by him again.

You felt yourself collide with his rock hard body, his lips on yours as you tried to focus your eyes on him, you accidentally drop all the books that you have when you felt him put his other hand on the back of your neck, kissing you deeply and pulling you incredibly close, leaving no air to pass through you and him. Stuck in the same position, you did not dare to move.

He reached for your face and deepen the kiss. "What the hell-" you pushed him away but for some reason, your energy leaves the soul out of you.

He slightly nibbles at your lower lip and you automatically responded with the same urge his giving you, knowing this is wrong and that you should probably stop this, but your mind and body won't cooperate and you suddenly remembered the sensation he makes you feel back then, thinking about the situation, kissing in a dark place with only the two of you making lewd noises made you wet down there. A soft moan escapes your lips as his fingers slightly gaze at your skin just underneath your blouse.

"We both know what we want. And obviously, your body doesn't lie," he said, eyes the darkest shade as he gazes down on you with a smirk on his lips.

"Is this how you get to bed girls? because you totally got me."

"No, I'm telling you, I want you. In every way possible."

yeah, short fic for my bub so what :(((

#jaehyun smut #jung jaehyun #jaehyun #nctsmut #nct scenarios #nct jaehyun #nct x reader #nct 127

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p-artsypants · 3 years

Text

I’ll Handle This (10)

In Which Marinette Says the Thing

I was the most excited about this chapter and had most of it written already. :)

Also, I bumped up the rating a bit because there’s extremely mild nudity in this chapter.

(Ao3 | FF.net)

—

She looked fierce. Nails done, a cute, white skirt (that she hadn’t spilled her breakfast on!) and a red and white polka dot blouse. She was cute, she was hot, and she was ready to nab her man!

Said man walked into class wearing...

Oh boy.

A leather jacket, with no shirt underneath, a kilt, and knee high combat boots. There was not a single person that didn’t stare at him.

“Sup nerds?”

Nino entered with him, slightly chuckling, like he had heard a very funny inside joke.

Marinette gawked at him. “Adrien...”

“Aww! Pooh Bear! Look at how cute you are!”

Marinette’s initial horror in his appearance turned into excitement. He called her cute!

“Adrien, do we have to have this dress code talk again?” Miss Bustier sighed.

It turned out he did have a shirt on under the jacket. A black button-up. He untucked the flaps, and buttoned them, unevenly, to cover his sweet sweet bod. “Better?”

Miss Bustier shook her head, but urged him to sit down.

“Soooo,” Alya asked, with a wiggling eyebrow. “Are you wearing that kilt...properly?”

He grabbed the hem, squeezing his knees together to shuffle shyly. “You wanna see?”

Marinette burst into color. “Adrien!”

He laughed, “oh, I’m just kidding. I’m wearing boxers under this.”

“Alright everyone, get in your seats, it’s time to start!”

—

Marinette tried to do her very best to stay calm. But the very idea that a confession to Adrien would be happening today kept her distracted.

She stared at him, watching as he scrawled notes...in Chinese? He really was an overachiever!

The day passed in a crawl, Marinette fretting every minute.

Then the lunch bell rang, and students began to pack up for break.

“Adrien?” She blurted, her hands shaking.

He turned and looked at her, grinning, and lowering his sunglasses to flash her half-lidded eyes. “You rang?”

“Um...can we talk together? Er, go somewhere together to talk? I have something I want to tell you.”

His grin turned into a full tooth smile. “Of course! Where to?”

“Um...mom’s got stuff for sandwiches, if you want to come over.”

“Sounds wonderful!” He packed up his bag, and then held out his hand for her.

He wanted to hold her hand! Ah!

Nervously smiling, she put her hand in his, and let him lead her from the room.

At the risk of having a horribly awkward lunch, she took the lead, and led him upstairs to the slowly emptying third floor.

“What’s up here?”

“I...can’t wait anymore. If this makes things weird, you could probably catch up with Nino or the guys...”

He very gently touched her cheek. “I told you I wanted to have lunch with you, and I will. So say whatever you have to say.” He took his sunglasses off and put them on his head.

Marinette took a huge breath. “Now, I just need to know...who is the real you? Are you...is this who you are, and you were suppressing the rebellious, chaotic side? Or are you putting on a show?”

He blinked at her, eyes wide. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I mean...I support whoever you are. I want you to feel free to be you, and celebrate what makes you special, but...” she tucked some hair behind her ear, a nervous motion. “I just miss the boy I fell in love with.”

“Marinette...”

“I love you no matter what, though! I promise! I just...your kindness, your shy sweetness and honesty really captivated me. That day when you gave me your umbrella, and you went out of your way to apologize for the misunderstanding. You didn’t have to. I was the one that jumped to conclusions, but you wanted to make friends and get on the right foot with me. Your laughter, your smile...I was a goner.” She hugged the strap of her purse. “So this new version of you has been jarring, but...if I’ve been reading your signs right...?”

He pulled her into a hug. “Oh Marinette. Sweet, kind, thoughtful Marinette. You’ve figured me out. This is all an act. Except my attitude towards you. I feel the same.”

“You...love me?”

“Yes. More than I can express.”

She raised her head, tilting her chin and slowly closing her eyes.

The gag kiss during truth or dare was one thing, but Adrien would kill Plagg if he kissed Marinette in earnest like this.

Instead, he pressed a finger to her lips and smiled at her confused look. “Not yet. The timing isn’t right. If I could give you the world, I would. In fact, anything else, I’ll give it to you. You have my heart, and that will be yours as long as you want it. But I don’t think you want a relationship right now.”

“I’m confused...” Marinette said, her lips trembling.

“I want to protect you from my father and Lila. If I make you my girlfriend, they will try to hurt you to get to me. I’d hate to ask you to wait for me, since you’ve finally gotten the courage up to confess...but would you wait?”

Marinette reached up to hold his face, letting her thumb pass reverently over his cheek. How had she gotten so lucky to fall for a man so thoughtful? So loving?

“Adrien, I’d wait a hundred years to be with you. It’ll be our secret for now.”

He kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry. I know you wanted more from the conversation-“

“Just knowing my feelings are returned are enough. Thank you.”

He took her hand again. “You still want to feed me sandwiches? Do I still deserve it?”

“Of course you do...My Prince.”

Plagg almost retched, but he schooled his face into an adoring grin before he faced her again. “That’s adorable!”

“You like it?”

“I love it!” It was just cheesy enough for Adrien.

“Then that’ll be your nickname...in secret. No one else will know.”

“I think you’ll come to find that our little secret will be so much more fun between us.”

—

After lunch, Plagg and Marinette returned to school. They stopped holding hands as they approached the building, but they stood close and bumped each other coyly.

The behavior didn’t go unnoticed by Alya or Lila. But Alya was the only one to confront them.

“You two seem close,” she asked, twinkle in her eye.

“Oh, we just had a very funny lunch together.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yep. Some great inside jokes. You had to be there.” Plagg sent a wink at Marinette and she seemed to swoon on the spot.

Plagg let her go back to her seat, ignoring the whispering from the girls behind him.

They thought he couldn’t hear them. He could.

Nino bumped his elbow. “Everything cool dude?”

“Absolutely. I’ll tell you later.”

—

Later came after school, of course. The second Plagg and Nino were away from school property, Plagg blurted out, “I’m a genius. I got Marinette to confess her undying love for Adrien. Boo-yah!”

“What?!” Nino shrieked. “Dude! She’s been trying to get that out for months! How on earth—no, wait. I know the answer.”

“Confidence.”

“And obvious flirting.” Nino scoffed. “Adrien always threw out the line, ‘you’re such a good friend’ in front of her. It was like wearing a big sign that said, ‘I will reject you!’”

“I’m right here, you know,” Adrien said, poking his head out of Plagg’s jacket. “And to my defense, I was trying to be faithful to—“

Plagg covered his mouth before he could accidentally reveal Marinette as Ladybug. “No excuses, lover boy!”

Thankfully, Adrien seemed to realize the mistake he almost made and nodded. “Fine, fine. I appreciate that you didn’t kiss her...again. So now what? Have we fulfilled that part of the contract yet?”

“Not quite.” He held up the ring. A paw print with three pads faintly shone on the surface. “Once a condition is met, you’ll hear the ring give its telltale beep and a pad will disappear. Once the paw print completely vanishes...well, you’ll be back in your own body anyway.”

“So...what do I need to do? She already confessed to me.”

This was a conversation better had without Nino involved. Of course he was a bro, and would be helpful for things. But Ladybug’s identity should still remain a secret.

“Nino...” Plagg began, with a drawl. “How much do you know about the birds and the bees?”

Nino sputtered. “HA! BYE!” And he made an about face and hurried towards home.

“Wait Nino!” Called Adrien.

“We’ll meet up with you later!” Plagg sang after.

Adrien looked to his body. “Please tell me you don’t have to...get up to some nasty stuff with my lady. Sure, it’s my body, but you’re like a bazillion years old and I was rather hoping to wait until marriage—“

“Calm down, Romeo. No, there’s not any hanky panky involved. I just needed to get Nino to leave without saying, ‘hey leave’. If he’s going to be suspicious, I need him on a whole other wavelength.”

“Okay, so if there’s no horizontal tango happening, then what are we doing?”

Plagg slipped the ring off his finger. “You need to spend time with her. Tell her or don’t. Just spend time with her outside of school and akumas and get to know her better. For an alibi, tell her that you haven’t been feeling well and you need to be in proximity of the Miracle Box. Then have her send her earrings to me so things stay even.”

“Will she go for that?”

“Probably. You know her better than I do.”

“What about the ring? Don’t you need to wear it because we’re switched?”

“Nah. It should be alright for a little while. It should stay with my body though.”

“Okay...I guess...I’ll go see Marinette.”

“Have fun!” Plagg wiggled his fingers in a farewell and started walking to where Nino had disappeared.

Nervous as all get out, Adrien fled to the bakery, trying to figure out what he was going to tell Marinette.

When was it appropriate to come clean? How long should he wait? Should he blab at all?

Soon, he was hovering above her trap door, and peering inside. Marinette sat at her desk, music playing as she worked on homework. Her head bobbed to some tunes.

“Okay, she thinks you’re Plagg. So she’ll welcome you in and listen to what you tell her. And if she finds out you’re Adrien, then she loves Adrien and everything will be fine. Right? Right!” He psyched himself up.

Using his poorly practiced phasing powers, he entered her room and came to float by her desk. “Hiya pigtails!” He chirped, in the typical Plagg style.

She jerked, before turning to him. Her eyes landed on the ring and widened with surprise. “Why do you have that?! Is Chat okay?! What’s wrong?!” She stood, and nearly knocked over her chair.

Even Tikki looked surprised.

“Everything is fine!” He rushed to rectify. Then he remembered Plagg’s crafted lie. “Mostly. I haven’t been feeling very good, so I think I need to be closer to the Miracle Box for a little bit. I brought the ring for you, if you would send Tikki to Chat for a little while. That way he’s covered in case there’s an Akuma attack.”

Luckily, she bought his dirty fib and started to remove her earrings. “Oh, well if you aren’t feeling well, that means Chat won’t be in top form. We can’t have that! Of course we can trade!” She took the earrings off and handed them to Tikki, before putting on the ring.

Adrien felt a tingle down his spine as the black metal turned rose gold on her dainty finger.

“Is he at home?” Asked Tikki.

“No, come with me, I’ll tell you.” And he escorted her up to the balcony.

“Did Plagg put you up to this?” She asked, once outside. “This seems like one of his hair brained schemes.”

“I mean...he came up with the excuse...but I thought Marinette’s confession today would fulfill one of the conditions of the contract, but it didn’t. Plagg said I should just spend time with her.”

Thankfully, Tikki was the nice one. She patted his paws. “I’m sure you miss her too. I won’t say anything. But I will be having a word with Plagg about this whole thing. He should know that body swaps don’t always work!”

“Don’t tell me that! I’m struggling as it is!”

“Sorry!” She giggled. “Why don’t you go on in. Be prepared though. She’s been all sighs since ‘Adrien’ returned her feelings today.”

If he could blush, he would have. “Oh boy...”

“Where am I going?”

“Oh, Plagg is staying with Nino now. He left home. And uhhh...Nino knows. About me, not Marinette.”

She scoffed. “That rascal.”

“Thanks for understanding, Tikki.”

“I’m understanding with you, because you’re the victim of a manipulative, chaotic creature of destruction and havoc.”

“He can be a bit of a turd.”

“What am I doing? You could be spending time with the love of your life! Now, go on!” Tikki pushed him towards the door before flitting off to Nino’s.

Suddenly faced with seeing Marinette again, and continuing to lie to her face, he sheepishly returned to her room.

She had ducked out for the moment, and he found himself alone.

Alone, but surrounded by dozens of pictures of himself.

Knowing about her crush put these photos in a different context, for sure.

“Just a fan” she said. She was a big fat liar too!

“Adorable, isn’t he?” Her voice grabbed him while he was off guard.

“Uhhh...I guess? For a human?”

She giggled, and set down the plate of cheese danishes onto her desk. “That’s Adrien. He’s kind of my boyfriend. It’s not official yet, but he loves me.” She smiled widely. “He told me just today.”

“‘Kind of’ your boyfriend? You’re okay with that?”

“He can’t date right now because of his father. But he asked me to wait for him. I’d wait a thousand years for him.”

His heart hammered in his chest. “What about three years? What if he can’t date until he’s 18?”

“That’s fine.” She said nonchalantly. “We can still hang out. We can focus on school and drama doesn’t have to come between us...”

“And if someone else available comes along?”

Marinette couldn’t know the real reason he was asking that question. She just fondly patted his head. “Sorry Plagg. I know you care a lot about Chat, but Adrien...Adrien means the world to me. I love Chat too, but in a different way. And he’s not available, not to me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Chat will always just be my partner. Can only be my partner. We couldn’t date if I wanted too. It would be too difficult.” She sat back at her desk and sighed. “It would hurt too much.”

Adrien was struck speechless. How was he even supposed to respond to that? Was that an admission that she actually did have some feelings for Chat Noir?

It didn’t matter. Not now. “I didn’t mean to put you on the offensive. I was just...curious, is all. I’m happy you’ve found someone who loves you.”

She smiled at him then, scooping him out of the air and scratching his cheek with her finger. “Thanks Plagg. I hope I didn’t come off as snooty. I know you care about Chat. But he can fight his own battles.”

Her words made him feel like garbage. She had no idea, of course. Because up until the body swap, Adrien’s battles were not being fought. They were purposefully not being fought, because he was too chicken shit to upset anyone.

“Yeah...he’s brave alright...” he muttered.

Marinette settled down at her desk and continued on her homework.

What was a boy to do? He sat on the desk, and helped himself to the cheese danishes.

They were almost worth the trip over here by themselves.

“Enjoying yourself?” Marinette asked, eyebrow quirked.

At that, Adrien realized with thinly veiled horror that he had been moaning.

Eek.

“These are the most delicious things I’ve ever had!” Or maybe it was because Plagg had only fed him Camembert until now. Sure, Plagg’s taste buds were attuned to the foul stuff, but after a while, the same foods over and over get old.

Marinette just smiled at him fondly and continued with her work.

Would it be odd to look at her? Would she notice? He certainly found it hard to look away. He couldn’t stare at her during school. Not as Plagg, and not as Adrien from now on.

She tapped her pencil against her perfectly kissable lips, scrunching her nose and narrowing her eyes as she studied the page. It was adorable, but more so, it was the same face she made as Ladybug, when she was trying to solve her Lucky Charm.

Was it hindsight? Or if he saw Marinette making that face, would he have realized it?

Would he have cared enough to look at her?

Of course he would! He argued with himself. Marinette was always special, and her being Ladybug only elevated her in his mind. It was a match that made sense. Of course she was Ladybug. No one else could be so…wonderful.

But faced with her, and not knowing what to say or how to begin to explain the truth, he had to ask himself the tell tale question:

Did he like Marinette now because she was Ladybug? Or did he always like her, and was only in denial?

He begged it was the second. It had to be.

Her qualities were the same. There was nothing about Marinette that made him recoil or actively deny her identity.

Scratch that, Marinette was ridiculously clumsy.

But besides that, they were the same.

“Thinking about something tough over there?” Marinette asked.

“Huh? Oh. Uh...yeah. You know how it is.” Like that made any sense.

“Right. Like I could understand the problems of a Kwami.” She teased. “If you need to talk, I’m all ears.”

Soon. Soon he’d explain everything. But right now, he was just too nervous and scared of her wrath. “Thanks Marinette. I appreciate it. But I don’t want to distract you from your homework.”

She shrugged a little, not wanting to pry, before going back to work.

Adrien and Marinette shared the cheese danishes, and occasionally talked as she worked. When she got severely stuck, he would throw her a few hints.

Then she stretched, finished. “Oh thank goodness! I’m so tired, and I could use a lazy evening.”

“Marinette! Dinner time!”

“Well, after dinner, I’d like a lazy evening.” She scratched Adrien’s head. “Let’s just hope there’s no Akuma attack.”

“Fingers crossed!”

“You’ll be fine up here alone?”

“Of course. Have fun with your parents.”

“Oh,” she wilted. “Should I tell them about Adrien?”

“Why not?”

“I’m just scared that my nosy parents will ask a hundred questions. And we’re not even official.”

“Maybe by mentioning it now, when it becomes official, it won’t be much of a shock.”

“And maybe we can avoid another disaster like when my dad got akumatized. You’re right.” She couldn’t help but sigh. “Well, I’ll tell you how it goes!” And she went downstairs.

Adrien sat on her desk, scanning the walls and taking in all of his pictures. She really loved him, didn’t she?

And how long had that gone on, and he never noticed?

Was it okay to snoop? Of course morally and ethically, no, it wasn’t. But he was technically her sort of boyfriend. It couldn’t hurt.

Right?

So he snooped. Just a precursory glance through her belongings. It was all very innocent.

Until he found the pink half-circle book. Her diary.

Maybe it was the influence of Plagg’s magic in him. Or this whole experience was turning him into a rascal.

But he opened the book and started to read.

The entries were pretty innocent too. Day to day things, balancing life as a superhero and a student. She mentioned him a few times. Using phrases like, ‘golden hair’, ‘handsome face’, ‘emerald eyes’, and ‘abundant kindness’. She wrote about the times they interacted. From him catching her when she tripped, to the glances they shared. Just the smallest interactions between them, she cherished.

It almost made his heart hurt with how moved he was.

And then there was an entry whose content made him feel a different sort of pain. She recounted a day he had not experienced. Her encounter with his akuma, Chat Blanc.

He read the pages, soaking up every heart breaking moment. All the cruel things he had said to her that he would have never known. Why hadn’t she said anything? Was it too painful? Or did…

Did she think he didn’t need to know?

The diary slammed shut as he was finishing the entry, and a very angry and embarrassed Marinette stood over him, glaring. “Little snoop.”

“Yeah yeah, cats and curiosity and all that. So sue me.”

She took the book away and put it in a box with a lid. “Remind me never to leave you alone in my room ever again.”

“Aw, you’re no fun.”

She walked away, heading to her dresser. “Are you like this with Chat, too?”

“Oh, I’m much worse. You have no idea.”

She laughed at him, and took her pajamas out of her drawers.

Then without warning, she took off her pants.

And Adrien’s mouth went dry. He watched as she slipped on her pajama pants, and then took off her shirt, and even her bra, before putting on a loose t-shirt.

He was not going to get that image out of his head for a long, long time.

She turned to him and started talking like nothing had happened. “So what do you want to do? I’m all done with homework, and so as long as there’s no Akuma attack, I can do whatever I want. What do you and Chat usually do?”

Adrien didn’t know how to tell her he didn’t really have free time. Plagg just looked up cheese blogs on his phone, or watched a movie while Adrien worked on homework.

“You pick. I’ll just watch if you want to play video games or design.”

“I’m actually kind of tired. I might just watch videos in bed.”

“Sounds fun! Can I join?”

“Sure! Whatever you want, Plagg.” Marinette climbed her ladder up to her loft and settled against her pillows. She pulled a fuzzy blanket around her legs and sighed in content. “Just what the doctor ordered!”

Adrien hesitated a moment, trying to decide where to sit. Her shoulder? Her stomach?

But Marinette took the choice away and patted her chest, just above her heart.

Eagerly, he settled, curling his tail around his body, and absorbing her body heat. She scratched between his ears and made him purr almost instantly.

This was heaven. When he got his body back, he’d lay his head here. Hopefully, she’d scratch his scalp just the same.

The videos played on her phone, just memes. Every time she chuckled, her chest would rumble with the noise, and fill him with joy.

He could hear her heart beating. The heart she had opened for him just today. A heart that he lived in.

And then her phone started flashing with a red light. And akuma alert!

“Uh oh!” Marinette clicked on the alert, checking out the details. “It’s a sentimonster! Come on Plagg, we can’t leave Misterbug out to dry!”

As she scaled the ladder to her balcony, he panicked. How was this going to work? Was she going to notice once they transformed? Would he be able to hear her thoughts like he could when Plagg transformed?

Would he look through her eyes?

She raised the hand with the ring on it. “Alright! Plagg, Claws out!”

Nothing happened.

“Um...Plagg, Claws out?”

“Oh.” Adrien gasped, “oh no.”

“Oh no what? Are you broken? Do I need to fix you?”

“No! I mean—sort of, but you already did your part! I’m just...”

“Plagg, what’s going on?”

He sighed, screwing up his lips and unintentionally showing his fangs. “Um...I’m not...I’m not actually Plagg.”

She stared at him, brows furrowing and eyes narrowing. “Then...who are you?”

“Promise you won’t be mad?”

“No guarantees!”

“Well, okay.” He gulped. “I’m...Adrien?”

She blinked. “Adrien? Like...no. No no no not like Adrien Agreste, my new supposed boyfriend?!”

“That’s me! Hi P-Pooh Bear?”

“What?!” She shrieked. “How?! When?! What—“ she snatched him out of the air with firm hands. “HAVE YOU BEEN ADRIEN THIS WHOLE TIME?”

“I mean, I’ve been Adrien my whole life,” he awkwardly chuckled.

“No, no don’t joke with me right now.” She sniffed. “How long have you been like this?”

“Um...about two weeks now. Since that day he came to school in a crop top.”

Marinette shut her eyes tight, a few tears slipping past her cheeks. “That long...”

“Marinette?”

“So it was all a lie? Plagg’s just—messing with us? With me? You don’t really—“ she squeezed her eyes shut and started crying in earnest.

“No! No Marinette! Of course I love you! I’ve always loved you, you know that! The second I learned you were Ladybug, everything made sense! I was so happy and I told Plagg he had to win you over. Please Marinette, this was never supposed to be malicious.” He nuzzled against her fingers, offering up a purr. “I promise.”

With her free hand, she wiped her face. “Alright, well suppose I believe you. What happened? Why are you like this?”

“I made a deal with the devil. Plagg, specifically. He said he was tired of me complaining all the time. So he said he could solve all my problems if I just agreed to it. Then I woke up in his body.”

“What problems?”

“Well...my unrequited love for you, for one.”

She blushed.

“My relationship with my father for two, and the third is Lila’s harassment.”

“Oh, I get it now.” Marinette sighed. “That’s why he was doing all those things...”

“You mean dressing like a moron and messing with Lila?”

“Yes. And flirting with me.”

“To be honest,” he scratched the back of his head. “I would have flirted with you earlier if I had known you were Ladybug. I liked you before, I was just trying to pretend I didn’t, because I wanted to be loyal to...well, you.”

She held him softly in her hands. “We’ve made a mess of things, haven’t we?”

“It was for our own good. Secret identities and all that.”

“You almost sound like you just repeat that to yourself, but you don’t believe it.”

“I had to repeat it to myself,” he urged. “Every day. Because I so desperately wanted to be with you, to spend time with you out of the suit. I was so lonely and I thought, if there was one person I could trust with my identity, it had to be you. But I wanted to honor your wishes. I just hoped to wear you down, eventually.”

She passed her thumb over his cheek and whiskers. “I had been thinking about it, ever since I became the guardian. I wanted to keep you safe, but if something happened to Plagg and you couldn’t transform, no one would know. I’m not upset with you, Kitty. Though I wish this reveal had happened a little more...mutually.” Suddenly, her eyes widened. “What are we doing?! We have a sentimonster!”

“Aw let him fight on his own! He deserves some sort of punishment for this and I have yet to come up with a good one.”

She chuckled. “Alright, fine. We’ll give him a few minutes and see how things are going.”

“You’re taking this better than I expected.”

“I’m in shock.” She chuckled, a little hysterical. “It took me so much courage to confess…and it wasn’t even to your face. That would happen to me.”

He floated out of her hand and nuzzled her face. “All that matters is that I know. We can’t be together quite yet, but the second I get my body back, I plan to make you mine.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely, Bugbear.”

She kissed between his ears. “Okay, My Prince. I look forward to it.”

The ring on her finger beeped, and a paw pad faded out.

“What was that?”

Adrien sighed with relief. “The condition has been met.”

“Condition?”

Just then, a swath of Ladybugs rushed over the city, righting whatever the Sentimonster had ruined.

“Well, looks like he didn’t need our help after all.”

Marinette laughed slightly. “They have been doing this a long time. It probably only took them this long to get it because of travel time.”

Adrien nodded. “So, just to clarify, you aren’t mad at me?”

“Of course not! It sounds like Plagg tricked you. Though I am mad at you for reading my diary…and watching me change!”

“In my defense, I was not warned you were going to change.”

“Still you could have turned around!” She blushed.

“Sorry, Bugaboo, I guess I was just a little star struck.”

She bopped him on the nose. “Now don’t try to flatter me to get out of being caught.”

A yoyo wrapped around the chimney above their heads, and Misterbug made his appearance. His very jarring, ancient appearance. He wore black leggings with a red loincloth around his waist. His shirt was cropped and had billowing sleeves. The mask was just a cloth that tied around his lower face.

“Well well well, I figured if you weren’t on the battle field, you were busy having a lover’s quarrel.” He smirked, the smile only creasing his eyes.

Marinette looked to Plagg. “Dearest Sunshine, do you mind terribly if I abuse your body?”

“Be my guest.”

Marinette wound up a punch and socked Plagg right in the shoulder.

“Ow! Hey, that actually hurt.”

“I hope you, you monster! How could you hurt my poor, sweet, innocent Adrien!?” She cuddled him close to her cheek.

Plagg scoffed. “Puh-lease. There is nothing innocent about that boy. Spots off.”

The pink light faded, and Adrien’s body remained. It was almost hard to look at him, even though she knew it wasn’t really Adrien.

“Oh, now she gets all shy~!” Plagg taunted. “I should have retransformed when I landed. Maybe she wouldn’t have punched me!”

“You deserved it.” Tikki said, flatly.

“Yeah, whatever. So? How’d it go?”

Marinette held out the ring. “It beeped?”

“Excellent!” He took it off her finger. “Two to go!” He slipped the ring on and took off the earrings. “Now I just have to focus on Gabriel and Lila. I think Gabe’s getting ready to crack. Lila though, I might have to push a little harder.”

“Thank you for the warning,” Marinette added. “It makes me feel better that I might not have to put up with her for much longer. So I can take a little damage.”

Adrien frowned. “Can’t I stay with Marinette a while longer?”

Plagg huffed. “I mean you could…but then you couldn’t see the absolute chaos that I planned.”

Adrien winced. “Ugh, fine. I’ll go with you.” He turned to Marinette, pressing a kiss on her cheek. “Bye Bugaboo. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay Kitty. I love you!”

Adrien’s heart nearly burst with love. “I love you too!”

“Gross.” Plagg gagged. “Alright, time to go! Adrien, Claws Out!”

—

Chat Plagg Noir returned to the Lahiffe residence, and swung in through Nino’s window.

Nino for his part, was nearly dancing in panic.

“You good, my man?”

Nino shook his head frantically. “There’s a policeman here for you! I tried to stall as long as I could, and said you were asleep and a heavy sleeper! But I think he’s about to burst down my door!”

“A policeman? What for?”

“I don’t know! He just said he had to talk to you!”

“Claws in.” Plagg walked over to the door, and exited, pensively watching the uniformed man in the living room.

“Did you have a nice nap?” The man asked, arms crossed.

“I did, until I was shaken awake. Is there a problem officer?”

“Adrien Agreste, you are under arrest.”

#miraculous ladybug #ml #fanfiction #I'll handle this #marinette dupain cheng #adrinette #adrienette #adrien agreste #adrien and plagg #body swap #identity reveal

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darkhymns-fic · 3 years

Text

The Heart Asks

Incredible danger. A vicious hunger. She opened her eyes and was greeted to the sight of that oh-so-fascinating daemon arm hovering just over her face.

Claws so pointed and sharp, they could slice her into ribbons. And if that palm lowered anymore, it would touch her skin, eat her up until there was nothing left within her at all. Gone, completely erased.

“What is with that creepy smile of yours?”

Ah, and just like that, the illusion was broken.

Fandom: Tales of Berseria Characters/Pairing: Magilou/Velvet Crowe Rating: T Mirror Link: AO3 Notes: A really late fic for @talesfemslashweek ! I wanted to at least have one thing for it this year, even if it's a bit after the event. For Day 2: Brutal heat wave, or "don't push yourself!"

The truth was, she didn’t care about life all that much.

Magilou had always been the definition of careless, ever since her troupe days. Small and weak, exploited beyond her understanding, it was always said that a witch such as her couldn’t die. Not really. Wicked things like them always could brave through fires or hold their breath infinitely underneath deep waters.

So, when nothing could fatally harm them, it did not matter what they went through. Her burned palms, her filled lungs, the ache that hands left on her skin – these were all things that a witch could endure. She believed so, too.

Melchior had proved it. She could not die so easily, not even with what he had put her through in all those years. Not even if, at times, she wished it could be just a bit easier.

Yet when she found herself waking from such a heavy sleep, her limbs feeling like weights, her head completely aching, as if she had just been slammed into concrete over and over – she had to wonder.

Incredible danger. A vicious hunger. She opened her eyes and was greeted to the sight of that oh-so-fascinating daemon arm hovering just over her face.

The first thing she did was smile. Oh, this certainly was a sight indeed.

Admitting she was frightened was a bit of an understatement. But besides the terror running through her limbs, she also felt a certain sense of appreciation. After all, couldn’t one such as herself admire the river of power that coursed through that arm, its surface like that of volcanic rock, with magma brimming just underneath?

She had seen it done before – to daemons, the way such a great threat could squeeze the very life out of them and absorb their very essence. And Magilou had always been so eternally curious, forever drawn to this evil entity, to this promise of destruction-

“What is with that creepy smile of yours?”

Ah, and just like that, the illusion was broken.

That hand full of power, with its promise of wreaking chaos, soon reverted to a normal size, the white bindings fluttering in the air, tickling her nose before they were pulled away. Charred black winked out of existence, the painting of blood red through the cracks gone from her vision.

With the hand gone, she could then see Velvet seated just next to her, eyes narrowed.

“Oops,” Magilou whispered with a smirk. Her breath was weak, her arms still so heavy, but she paid it little mind. “Think you caught me at a… private moment.”

Velvet scowled as she wrapped the bandages around her arm. “The hell is the matter with you?”

“Oh, quite a lot actually. Thought you already knew this.”

Even as she tried to joke, she still winced, feeling a sharp sting at her side. It took her a few seconds more to understand that she was laid out on a bed, tucked in heavy covers, and was in an inn room that… well, had seen better days with the peeling wallpaper, and the cramped space. Certainly not her first choice in lodgings.

“I’m assuming you don’t remember what happened.” Velvet tied up the last of her bandages tightly, clenching her fist. She was seated on the bed with Magilou – which was also a bit on the small side – laying her head against the nearby wall it was shoved against.

“Let’s see…I was having a nice nap all by my innocent lonesome before you decided you needed a little midnight snack?” The witch was patting herself on the back for that one, except even her own laughter felt like it was stabbing tiny knives into her stomach. “Ow…” Still, she tried to sit up, the action proving harder to do than she would think…

“Not even if I was dying of starvation. And enough with hurting yourself.” Velvet turned to Magilou, the moonlight from the window nearby catching her eyes, like amber encased within. The woman was never a fan of being too close to people, so Magilou counted herself to be quite lucky to see a feature of hers so near, with little interruption.

“Oh, then what was that you were doing just now? Don’t tell me you weren’t tempted.”

“Doing what I could to finally wake you up!” Velvet hissed, the force of her words making her lean in, just a bit. It was enough to make Magilou flinch, which she immediately regretted. It was no fun if she revealed her fear right away like that.

However, she felt dim understanding just then. Her skirt of magical books no longer tied around her waist, noticing the tear in her outfit and the… oh, was that linen wrapped around her stomach. “Huh. Totally missed that somehow…”

“You idiot.” Velvet placed her head in her (non-daemon) hand, sighing deeply. “You go and get yourself a life-threatening injury from a therion and don’t even remember it. Why should I even be surprised at this.”

Magilou’s pointed ears perked at those words, blinking as she faced Velvet once more. “I’m sorry, what was that about life-threatening?” It seemed almost too surreal. Also, if I was in any real danger, I’d just get Bienfu to take the hit for me…

“It was worse than usual, but Laphicet did what he could and we were able to find a town nearby. Even Eizen, for all his blabbing, actually had some good information on how to keep you rested properly.”

Magilou traced the linen cloth on her with her right hand, pressing just against the tender area of her wound, making her shudder. She felt Velvet slap her hand away from the spot.

“Don’t poke it,” she said. “You’ll make it worse.”

“Fine, fine…” Magilou pouted.

She felt strangely vulnerable right now, bereft of even her hat. Without the rest of her outfit, she knew she just appeared like some eccentric woman with strange ears instead of a mysterious magician. She looked again at herself, clutched her hand over the blankets, then furrowed her brow. “But that doesn’t really explain why you were here and doing your whole devouring shindig.” Another smirk. “I always knew you had a taste for little old me.”

Velvet didn’t say anything at first. She was back to leaning against the wall, eyes directed to the window, pulling off her nonchalant look like it was nothing. Sometimes the ease of it made Magilou a bit jealous.

“No, I suppose it doesn’t explain much,” she finally answered, completely ignoring the rest of Magilou’s words. She was good at being frustrating herself, which made Magilou pout even further.

“Oh, come on. Just admit you wanted to eat me up already! Not like I’d be offended!” In fact, she’d be much more offended if Velvet didn’t want to eat her at all!

Then a harsh sound – Velvet’s hand slamming the wall, enough to make the wood shudder. “Urgh, you’re so annoying!”

Magilou blinked. She knew she had a habit of pissing Velvet off but, this was different.

“We were waiting around for days and you were still asleep! We have things to do and you wouldn’t wake up, so I…” Oh, was that a blush on her cheeks? But Magilou could barely enjoy Velvet’s embarrassment before the other woman turned away. “I thought threatening you would do the trick.”

“…While I was asleep?” Even Magilou was wondering about that one.

“I didn’t have many other options.”

Oh, wait. Now she remembered.

Something that should have been a routine fight had caught her off guard. It was said that overconfidence led to one’s downfall, but Magilou always had the wit to outlast any real tragedy, for certainly she had more intelligence than most.

But a miscalculation of a daemon’s fangs, sinking into flesh, seemed to have proven her quite wrong.

Even Rokurou had looked surprised, from what little memory she could recall, how he was momentarily taken out of his bloodlust, hands gripping tight to his daggers in the middle of their violent dance. She had heard a gasp from Eleanor, that poor little exorcist who didn’t even understand the breadth of her vocation, along with a hasty chant from Laphicet to her side. What a sweet boy he was. She only regretted not teasing him even more often than she did.

She hadn’t been able to see Eizen before blacking out, and remembered an amusing thought she had at that moment. Found a way to transfer his curse to me? Anything was possible. And if that were true, she couldn’t blame him in the slightest. At least he had someone to go home to.

And so, just before, just until she fell completely, she turned and hoped to see, hoped to see her and-

Well, that’s how she ended up here. In this bed, with Velvet still doing her usual glaring.

“So you were worried about me?” she hedged. It was always dangerous territory to ask Velvet such blunt questions, like walking up to a feral cat. But, one had to take a chance for maybe that same cat to start liking you, didn't it?

And it almost worked, Velvet shifting her eyes to gaze at her, for a moment. “I’m allowed to.”

“Oh, I’m not saying you shouldn’t.” Magilou grinned, happy to have found that little nick in her armor. Of course she would do all she could to examine it, to find the snatch that would let her see even more. “But you were by my side this whole time. You might as well have tried giving me a kiss of true love to wake me up.”

And strangely, Velvet didn’t scoff at the notion, or made a motion to leave. She looked at Magilou for a half-second longer, a lock of her hair tumbling over her ear, then turned away. “Idiot.”

“…Did you actually try to kiss me?”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“I’m not hearing a no~!”

While Magilou thought about all sorts of devious things that a deamon such as Velvet could have done to her, she only wanted to know more. More teasing was always too addictive, always too fun to see the results of.

“Maybe you wanted to but were too shy, huh? Or…maybe you didn’t know how?” She grinned wickedly. “Is that why you used your scary daemon arm? I guess devouring and kissing are the same to you then.”

“Just stop talking already. I already told you why I did that!” Velvet sighed, the moonlight falling across her hair in silver streaks. “No one in their right mind would kiss you.”

“Hm, you have a point there.” Magilou nodded to that assessment. Then she cackled. “But I don’t think anyone in this room has a right mind to begin with.”

Another tease, and another moment where Velvet didn’t outright deny things. Instead, she growled out in an exasperated voice, as if she had been holding in the words for hours.

“If you want a kiss so badly, then why don’t you just take it?”

And so, in one of those rare moments, Magilou was rendered speechless.

Velvet was never as straightforward with things as she liked to believe about herself. Even when Magilou spoke in annoying rhymes or riddles, they both liked to dance around the subject.

Maybe for once, she could change that.

Holding the blanket in both hands, she finally let it go, then carefully shifted on the mattress to move closer to the dreaded Lord of Calamity, a title that would send excited shivers down anyone’s spine. And if it didn’t, such a person did not know much of anything, did they?

“Tell me, Velvet,” Magilou coaxed, leaning just a bit closer, enough to feel herself trapped in those eyes of hers. Amber that swallowed her whole and wouldn’t let go. “Why did you really come here and stay with me?”

A grimace, but Velvet didn’t move away. In fact, she moved closer in turn. “When you fell in battle, you called out my name.” A hand reached out, placed itself against the back of Magilou’s head, fingers threading through her hair. It was surprisingly gentle, but always that hint of strength beneath. “I didn’t like it.”

Ah yes, she did do that, didn’t she? Magilou remembered the way she said the name, like something precious, something that she could lose so easily.

She had always been so reckless, as witches often were. But perhaps now, she could try to be a little more cautious.

“Maybe I can say it in a way that you do like then…” she said, reaching for that hand of hers, wrapped in bandages. What will she find underneath all of that?

She couldn’t wait to see.

#tales of berseria #magivel #magilou #velvet crowe #talesfemslashweek2021 #fanfiction #oneshot

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angelaiswriting · 4 years

Text

I Love You | Fuze x fem!reader

✏️ Pairing: Fuze x fem!reader

✏️ Summary: The five times he thought he loved her, and the one time he told her. (Inspired by the lovely @kind-wolf, who also provided prompts since I lack in the fluff department lol)

✏️ A/N: I’m rusty af but there you go, someone please bring back the X times they thought they loved their person and the time they told them trope, thank you very much. Alice, I hope your day will be better than yesterday, thank you for all the help 💛 @sazafraz I hope you’ll enjoy this as well :’)

✏️ Warnings: just what I hope is fluff (+ it’s almost midnight, I proofread this as best as I could, forgive any mistake pls)

✏️ Word-count: 4,887

ONE

The first time he thought he could love her was when everything else felt cold and distant.

If it wasn’t for the fact that she picked up the call right before the third ring, he’d have one more reason to sulk about the past shitty forty-eight hours. First, a mission almost gone wrong and that has left him battered and sore. In pain would probably be the best term, but Shuhrat doesn’t like to complain too much. Then, a fight with a couple of operators he doesn’t know that well but that he has by now labeled as dickheads, thus turning them into people he won’t be looking forward to hanging out with—not now, and surely not even any time soon. Then, problems with his flight, which have led to him landing in Moscow five hours later than anticipated.

And if that isn’t enough, he’s almost considering turning on his heels and hopping down the five flights of stairs that separate him from the chaos of the city out there. He has his duffel bag in one hand and an umbrella that decided to break at the wrong damn moment in the other. And truly, he doesn’t know why he’s still holding onto it but some part of him buried deep inside his brain makes him believe that everything’s going to shatter if he lets it drop.

But he’s ringing the doorbell for the third time now and he thinks that fuck it, maybe I should really just leave. And if it weren’t for the fact that the anniversary of his brother’s disappearance is coming up, he would crash at his parents’ place; he’s missed them, after all. However, right as he’s about to truly turn around and start his descent, there’s commotion coming from inside. Barking. Someone groaning. And then the sound of a dog whining and grumbling at an order it doesn’t want to take.

“Hey!” She’s panting, trying to hold back a white and brown dog by its collar. “Sorry, this big baby just came back covered in mud from his walk and I was giving him a bath.”

“It’s…” Shuhrat eyes the big hound dog and for a moment, he wonders how on earth she’s managing to keep him from jumping through the threshold. “No problem.” The smile he gives her is just half there, and he’s painfully aware of it. If it were another time in his life, probably twenty years or so ago, he’d let the tears run freely down his cheeks, but he knows how to keep himself in check now. “Sorry it took me so long. I couldn’t find a taxi, so I had to take a bus.”

But she’s grinning, and the happiness so clear on her face makes her eyes squint. “God, I’m so happy you’re here, Shuhrat! It’s been forever! Come in, you’re soaking my doormat,” she adds with a chuckle.

Walking into her apartment proves to be quite the feat, with the dog—Buran, she says with great pride in her voice—barely moving from the spot he seems to have rooted himself in right in the entrance. He doesn’t move; he simply stands there, with Y/N trying to drag him at least a step to the side, and stares at him, muzzle wrinkled in preparation to snarl, but the aggression never comes. After a long moment of contemplation, Buran takes a step forward, boops his thigh with his nose, and then turns back toward his owner.

“He’s a big boy,” she says when she lets go of the dog’s collar, “but he’s never hurt anybody. Sometimes I think it’s all for show.”

“Is he…”

She nods, and the discussion ends there. He doesn’t ask how she’s been holding up after her grandparents’ death, and she doesn’t tell. What she does, though, is wait silently as he takes his boots off, the only sound that of Buran drinking water in the background.

When he looks up, she’s staring at him and there’s the shadow of a frown on her face, her head slightly tilted to the side as she studies him. He almost feels like a specimen in a laboratory, and there’s this knot slowly forming in the back of his throat that just… chokes him, in a way. He has nothing to complain about, but the stitches on his left thigh sting like a bitch, and he’s exhausted, and all he wants is to sleep curled up under heavy blankets for at least a month.

She doesn’t inquire, though. She doesn’t ask him possibly uncomfortable questions: they’ve known each other for far too long that they now know when it’s time for questions and when it’s not. All she does is offer him a smile—one of those half smiles of hers that always used to make him wonder how much, exactly, she knows.

“You look like you could use a hug.” She doesn’t step forward as she says that, and he doesn’t either, but her eyes never leave his.

“My clothes are wet.”

“And your point is…”

When she does hug him, it’s like being trapped in one of those moments where the body moves faster than the brain, and he finds himself wrapping his arms around her before he even has the time to utter a word. She’s warm and solid, in a way, and it’s almost like he’s being given permission to just let go for once and forget about anything that’s not part of the here and now.

It’s then that the thought pops up unsolicited in his mind. They’ve been growing closer again, and it’s like the time they spent growing apart when he was engaged didn’t even exist in the first place. Her texts are what he wakes up with a smile on his lips for, even though Sanya pokes fun at him at times, and he often finds himself subconsciously longing for her calls.

He’s hugging her, his forehead pressed into the crook of her neck as he soaks her clothes, and he thinks that fuck, if he could open up enough to fall in love again, why not with her?

TWO

The second time he thought he could be in love with her was on Skype.

“Is that my sweatshirt?” The urge to grin is tugging at the corners of his lips and he does his best to suppress it, truly, but it’s a hard task when at some point Buran jumps up on her bed and all Shuhrat sees is his wet nose and hairy snout.

“C’mon, baby, sit back,” he hears her groan as she drags the dog back from her laptop and against her pillows. “Jesus, I hadn’t expected for this bear to fall in love with you so fast.” These words are followed by a jokingly eye-roll and a cheater whispered right against Buran’s ear. “But yes, Agent Eagle Eye, it’s your sweatshirt.”

“The last time you wore my things, we were still in school.” He misses those days—kinda. He’s glad he doesn’t have to put up with teachers and classmates anymore, doesn’t miss tests or having to study, but there’s still nostalgia laced with those memories and for a moment, it tastes bittersweet, until she answers back with one of her jokes.

They talk about everything and nothing at once for a long while, spend long minutes catching up over what happened in the past three weeks, after he’s finally gone back to Hereford after the month he’s somehow managed to spend in Moscow. Bunkered up for most of the time in her apartment with her dog is more like it, but these are details he has no problem overlooking.

Timur is nice and although he never says an ill or sarcastic word about how Shuhrat’s leave has gone, there has always been a smile on his lips that wasn’t there before that godforsaken mission. Sometimes Shuhrat thinks his friend knows something he doesn’t—like right now, as he gets dressed in a nice suit to go out on a date—, at least not yet, but he also doesn’t want to ask questions whose answers he might not want to hear, so he always keeps his suspicions to himself.

He does sigh, though, when Tima pokes his head from behind him and smiles at the girl on the screen. This man’s always blabbing about you—or something like that; Shuhrat is too busy worrying about his burning ears and how they’d better not be blushing to actually pay attention to the quick exchange between his two friends.

There’s silence after that. Timur leaves the dorm room after Maxim popped his head in, and it’s just Y/N and him once again. They stare at each other and she’s smiling and he’s trying to force his brain to think because fuck, he’s okay with long silences, really, but not with her. It’s Buran’s soft bark that encourages the conversation to flow again, and she asks if he’s received the package she’s sent.

He has, and when he recovers it from under his bed, where he’s been storing it in wait for one of their video calls, she prompts him to open it. His chuckle makes her chuckle because damn, sometimes she just goes to sweet lengths for him and he never knows what he’s done to deserve such a friend.

“I hope you still love korovki,” she giggles and when he picks up a handful of korovka candies, that giggle turns into a soft laughter that seems to ring even through the speakers of his old laptop.

“You even remembered about slivy v shokolade…” The smile is more in his eyes than it is on his lips, and he knows it, he feels it somehow. It’s a nice feeling and it makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside, and for the first time ever he wishes he could push himself into his screen and out of hers just to give her a hug. “Why?” he wonders out loud and before she breaks out into a huge smile, he has a brief couple of seconds to scold himself for asking that question. Even though he has no reason to, really.

“You were feeling down,” she explains, “and you also sounded a bit pissed. I thought candy would make you feel a bit better again, since I clearly can’t ship this ball of fur all the way there.” She ruffles Buran’s head as she says so and the dog licks her face before settling down and laying his heavy head on her belly. “He sends something as well, in case you feel lonely, since you basically became snuggle buddies.”

He chuckles, both at her words and at all the time Buran has spent on his lap in the time he’s spent crashing at Y/N’s place. “Not my fault I give nice cuddles,” he shrugs as he digs through candies and chocolates.

There’s a rabbit plushie in there and while it’s been washed, it’s clear who its previous owner is. An ear is slightly off, a little more down the head compared to the other, and it’s proof that Buran played with it a bit too roughly one day and tore it off. The ribbon around the rabbit’s neck is new, though, a vibrant sunflower yellow color that matches almost to perfection that of the dog’s collar.

“I thought this was his favorite,” he muses, holding it up so that both she and Buran can see it.

The dog woofs once before he snuggles his human and a paw accidentally moves the laptop enough to turn it to the side and pick up his wagging tail. A moment later, though, Y/N is back into the frame.

“I told him to pick a toy to send to you, and he chose that. Don’t question his choices, Kessikbayev. My baby knows what he’s doing.”

“Alright, alright!” But they’re both smiling, and it truly does feel like being kids all over again, when they played with his brother and her sisters in the park.

“There should be something else on the bottom,” she says after a while, more seriousness in her voice, and she sits up a little straighter to lean against her pillows. “I know it’s probably silly, but I remember when our parents took us to Kazan when we were eight and we said we would be friends forever. We both lost our bracelets swimming two years later, but…”

Her words fade as he opens the rectangular plastic box he missed just minutes before. There, stretched out open, lies a white bracelet with a single aquamarine bead. It is exactly like the one they had gifted each other a lifetime ago and even though almost twenty-five years have passed, it still feels like yesterday. The blue sky, the birds chirping, and the condensation of their breaths mingling in the air as all they could think about was the fritters they were going to buy soon with the rest of their money.

“Burya and I went back to visit one of my aunts, and when I saw it in the shop window, I thought, why not?”

He doesn’t tell her he won’t be able to wear it, not for the majority of his time at least, but he still has days off, and he still appreciates her lovely gesture. He appreciates it more than he can tell and when he looks up from the bracelet to thank her, all he can think about is how light he feels when he’s with her. Even through Skype.

THREE

The third time he thought that maybe he was truly developing romantic feelings for her was when she came to visit.

It’s the week before his birthday, the only one she’s managed to take off from her work at the vet clinic, but he swears he already feels like the birthday boy on his special day.

He’s rented a room for her in the bed and breakfast closest to the base, but they both know he’ll end up spending more time there than he will in his own dorm. The guys will probably start asking questions, but he knows Timur has his back and that he’ll come up with something—like he’s always done in the weeks that have followed his Muscovite leave. For once, though, he doesn’t mind the questions: he would still prefer not to answer them, for he’s not sure he’d have answers to give anyway, but somehow he doesn’t mind the idea of people he’s (kind of) close to wondering about what’s going on between him and a woman.

Which he… doesn’t know, but he guesses that he’s ready to find out.

That’s what he thinks about as he lies in bed next to her. His thumb is slowly brushing along the two-word tattoo on the side of her ribcage, below her breast, but he can’t exactly focus his mind and actually read it, for he’s too busy wondering how they ended up in that situation in the first place.

“What are you thinking about?” she whispers after a while, gaze focused on the wooden beams of the ceiling visible in the warm light of the dimmed bathroom lights they left on before they even had the chance to towel themselves dry.

His answer is preceded by a low hum that seems to reverberate right in his chest. His lips press a light kiss to the side of her boob before he props himself up on an elbow to look down at her. He smiles and then, with a tingling sensation still in his lips, he whispers back, You.

Her hand comes up to cup his cheek and right as she lets out a soft sigh, her thumb wipes across his cheekbone once. “What are we doing?” she asks, her eyes never leaving his as she does her best to even out her breathing. She will be sore in the morning, but Shuhrat doesn’t know yet.

He shrugs his shoulders once and for a moment, he almost regrets staying over. He should have gone back to the base; he should have accompanied her back to the bed and breakfast, of course, and then gone back to the base. Stayed up with the guys for a few drinks, watched football on the huge flatscreen in one of the common areas, and then slept in his bed.

“I think we…” Her tongue briefly comes out to wet her lower lip and he finds himself unable to look away. “We could do it again.” The tone of her voice is hesitating and it falters toward the end of the sentence, somehow making it sound more like a question than an affirmation.

Shuhrat smirks and when she tentatively pulls him down to kiss him, her lips press against the scar above his lip for a moment. “Now?” he asks, voice raspy but eyes twinkling as one of his hands trails down her side and over her hip.

“No!” Her laugh is weak and breathy, and she closes her eyes for a second before she shakes her head. “I want to be able to go on that hike with you and your friends in the morning. But when we’re back… Who knows?”

He’s leaning against the frame of the bathroom door five minutes later, dressed only in his birthday suit and arms crossed against his chest. He’s watching her brush her teeth and absentmindedly listening to her recount something Burya did the day before she left him at one of her sisters’ place, but his eyes keep on getting trained back to the tattoo on her ribcage.

Two words. An exclamation mark.

The smile that tugs at his lips is hard to contain and even to conceal, and its reflection in the mirror is what makes her turn her head in his direction as a confused expression settles on her features.

“I used to always say that.”

She spits mouthwash in the sink before asking back, “What?”

“So mnoj!” he smiles. “With me! Growing up.”

It takes her a moment before realization dawns on her and her eyes trail down her body in the mirror. “Yeah, I know, that’s why it’s there,” she smiles.

FOUR

The fourth time he thought he was starting to fall in love with her was at a paintball game.

The early spring air is still chilly when they decide to play paintball on the ground of Timur’s dacha. It’s a way to pass time—and to give Timur and his girl a few hours alone. Glazkov doesn’t say it—he never does, truly, he doesn’t complain—but his broken leg is bothering him a little and he needs to look after it a bit more instead of hiding his discomfort behind a finger when his friends are with him.

If anything, Y/N has been a great addition to the group—and Buran has managed to bring a smile on everyone’s face countless times with his playful antics and his oh-so-sweet nature around his human. But even though he would love to participate in the game, Y/N has ordered him to stay back on the porch in fear that he—or anyone else, for that matter—might get hurt somehow.

She’s teamed up with Alexsandr and despite the fact that they have already lost three games, they’ve still decided to go for the same tactic one more time. They’re hiding behind a different set of bushes, sure, but he and Maxim can hear them giggle at some pun one of the two must have said, and a victory has never been easier.

They stand still for a while, listening to their hilarity, but before they have the time to take a step forward, Buran dashes across the grounds of the dacha and flushes them out. There’s a rapid sequence of Burya! and Party pooper! and I can’t breathe! that makes both Shuhrat and Maxim laugh out loud, paintball guns still in hand and pointed toward the bushes.

Tachanka is the first to get out of his hiding spot. He crawls across the cold and hard ground trying his best to keep breathing through his laughter as Burya playfully shakes his leg in his usual way to play fight. “Soldier, you’re giving out our position!”

“You should know how to play this game better than this, Sanya,” Maxim exclaims and the second after their friend has managed to stand back up on his feet, he shoots a green paintball right in the middle of his chest. “Dead.”

When Burya runs up to him, Shuhrat can’t help the happy laughter that bubbles up in his chest. “Good boy,” he coos, glove-clad hand petting his head. “Now go drag your mama out.”

He stops for a moment as the dog runs back behind the bush and in that brief minute, he realizes for the first time that he has never felt like this, at least not in a long while—like he has finally opened up, even if only to those close to him.

But then Y/N’s pleas of surrender take him back to the present moment and he smiles because damn, he thinks this is thanks to her as well. Her and this happy dog he’s grown so attached to.

“I promise I won’t shoot, Solnyshko!” and even though Max is chuckling under his breath in a way that would lead to thinking the opposite, he still lowers his gun and takes a step back.

Back at the dacha, as Timur’s girlfriend places all kinds of sweets on the table to pair with their tea, Shuhrat takes Y/N to the side for a moment and sits on the porch with Burya staring at them from the porch swing. It’s just the two of them, like after a whole day spent playing and all the other kids went home, but just… a bit quieter, with the first stars starting to twinkle in the approaching darkness of the evening.

“I’m so bad at paintball,” is the chuckle that distracts him from the never-ending horizon. “But Sanya surely wasn’t helping!”

“That’s no excuse, love.” He wraps an arm around her shoulders—earning a low warning whine from her dog—and pulls her closer into his side. “You’re both bad, that’s just the truth.”

The playful slap he earns to his knee is weak and light. “I should have teamed up with Maxim. I think we would have beaten your sorry ass, then.”

She grins up at him and he smiles down at her and for a moment all he can think is Fuck it! before he tilts his head and kisses her.

FIVE

The fifth time he thought he was in love with her, without a doubt this time, she had kids tackling her to the ground.

Tanya’s fifth birthday party is going strong and after the mermaid-themed cake and an endless hour spent opening presents of every kind imaginable, all the kids have gone back to playing. It is a tag game this time and as Burya plays with them, running around the garden and barking happily every once in a while, Shuhrat and Y/N watch the scene with the biggest grins on their faces.

She’s sitting sideways on his lap and he’s probably holding her closer than he ever has. It’s been a while since they stopped wondering what it was and just… embraced it. It’s nothing official, everything’s still off the record, but he has clothes at her place and a mug in a cabinet in her kitchen and when he’s over, the leather armchair in the living room becomes his and Buran’s favorite spot to snuggle and relax.

“I didn’t think your family could get any bigger,” he confesses when she pecks his freshly-shaven cheek.

“I have five sisters,” she giggles, snuggling closer and resting her head on his shoulder. “If we fly low and go for an average of three kids each, I will end up with fifteen nephews! But as you see,” and she points at her sister Marina and the baby bump she’s sporting, “we’re not flying low at all.”

He laughs at that and hugs her closer with one arm as he brings his beer bottle to his lips with the other. “Have you ever thought of…” He shrugs. “Adding some of your own to the bunch?”

She looks at him lost in thought for a while, taking the beer from his hand to steal a sip, before she eventually shrugs her shoulders in return. “I don’t know, I haven’t considered it yet. I’m happy with just Burya and you so far. He’s like a baby to me, he’s just not in human form.”

He doesn’t have time to say anything. Little Kolya drags her away by her right hand, and Masha follows suit and grabs her other hand.

Shuhrat watches with a smile on his face as she goes back to being the babysitting auntie and just as seven children gang up on her and drag her to the floor, Anastasia sits next to him and sends him a knowing smile.

“I’ve never seen her happier than when she’s with you.” Her confession somehow catches him unprepared and although there’s nothing wrong in the words leaving Y/N’s eldest sister’s lips, he still feels the urge to tear his eyes from her. “And I know I haven’t seen you in forever, but I remember you being at your lowest and I’m glad you’ve both pushed each other back to the surface.”

SIX

Then, there finally came the time he told her.

All Shuhrat can do is look at her, simply stare at her dance in the pouring rain that has caught them by surprise after a whole afternoon spent playing with their dog on the beach. He knows the quick and sudden summer downpour isn’t bound to last long, but the intensity of the rain and the deep gray of the sky almost make him think otherwise.

Their Ukrainian vacation on the Black Sea has felt like a dream so far, the best leave he’s had in forever, probably. Nothing has managed to disrupt his peace in the past week and if anything, he’s spent these days getting closer to his girl and Burya. Whether in the apartment they have rented or out exploring, nothing has ever felt so much like home, not even in a foreign country, than it feels like with her.

She’s twirling and laughing now, though, face turned up toward a steely sky and arms open wide, almost as though she could somehow take flight. The ringing of her laughter is drowned out by the raging pitter-pattering of the downpour that is soaking him to the bone, but he swears he can still hear it. Buran is barking by his side, unable to stay still or to stop his tail from wagging wildly against his shin, and there’s something so indescribable in the scene he’s witnessing that his heart feels like it’s being held in a grip.

It is one of those moments when the time feels like it finally stops, if so for just a moment, and something clicks. There’s this one piece that finally finds its place and a light turns on, and everything is clearer than it’s ever been. Not that it hasn’t been before—because it has, even with him not being able to fully admit it to himself—it’s just that it feels… actually real, this time. Like that’s the truth and there’s no hiding it anymore, not when it’s clearly brighter than the sun.

The realization seeps into his limbs like the rain that’s soaking his clothes and he just… smiles. It’s only one side of his lips at first, a smirk that tries to conceal the smile he can’t contain—in vain.

When she stops right in front of him, still giggling like a child, her breathing is all over the place. Fast and almost messy, and she is panting, desperately trying to catch her breath as she shakes her head a couple of times, trying to make the world stand still once again. She has hair sticking to her face and he can see her black bikini through the soaked-through fabric of her summer dress.

He somehow thinks back to the day he rang her doorbell three times. And to the hug she gave him that day, the one that almost cracked his tough exterior right open, and he realizes that he doesn’t really mind feeling like that with her. That he doesn’t really mind being vulnerable in her presence, and that he enjoys feeling like he belongs with her.

It is then that he says it out loud, and it feels good and almost warm inside as he stands there, teeth clattering from the cold. But the rain is too loud, and when she screams over its sound and over that of the howling wind that picks up suddenly, he finds himself kicking aside all the fears he has at the idea of opening up completely.

“I love you!” He screams it in the rain, with the wind slapping water in his face, and it feels better than it ever has in the past. And he’s blinded by the raindrops but even despite that, he sees her face light up in one of those bright smiles she’s never able to contain.

“I know!” she yells back before spreading her arms again. “That’s why I’m happy: because I love you, too!”

I’m a hoe for feedback in case you wanna leave any 💛

Original picture: https://www.pexels.com/photo/bunch-of-petals-on-white-surface-4041274/

#angelaiswriting #rainbow six #rainbow six siege #rainbow six siege fanfic #fuze r6 #fuze r6s #fuze fanfic #shuhrat kessikbayev #shuhrat kessikbayev fanfic #shuhrat kessikbayev x reader

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iwantitiwriteit · 4 years

Text

Slow Burn: Act I - Part 6

The Museum

Pairing: Chris Evans x Famous!Reader

Summary: You and Chris enjoy a day at the museum as the first act of your newfound clean slate.

Warnings: pure Fluff for once, the usual silly antics

Notes: Back to our regularly scheduled fanfic-ing. Hope y’all didn’t mid that mid-series break; I literally forgot how to write. But it was fun getting back in the groove of fluff! P.S. I miss museums. Read the previous part here and check this part’s moodboard + music.

Chris’ pace is quick as he walks the city sidewalk, evading puddles in his path. Sprinkling now, he doesn’t want to test his luck walking leisurely as he normally would. Normally, he’d take the time to gawk at the beauty and bustle of his city. But not today.

Today is a rainy Monday in Boston, perfect for your indoor date. Except, this is not a date. That’s what Chris told himself. That’s what he told his friend and brother… then himself again, especially now as a reminder to slow down his increasingly speeding heartbeat with each step. He’s only late for a friendly hang out with you, not for a date.

“Chris! Slow down!” Chris’ mother yelled from behind him. Oh yeah, and Ma. He stopped momentarily for Lisa to catch up. With a smile, he offered his mother his arm to take, and they walked together at a more acceptable pace to their destination. “Well somebody’s eager to see a certain somebody else,” Lisa teased, her son’s nervous and excited energy not going unnoticed by her maternal eye.

“Just… just don’t want to miss any part of the tour, is all,” he says, ears tipped red.

“Uh-huh…”

A few more paces, and the mother-son pair arrived at the MassArt Art Museum. Inside, they’re greeted by high ceilings and white walls like blank canvases. Grandiose, multi textured sculptures add a plethora of color to the space, some stand tall from the floors, others hang low and ceilings. The bright colors and lights could easily make you forget the dreary Fall day outside, the inside of the museum matching the inside of Chris’ chest.

Chris is shrugging off his raincoat when his mother goes to check them in. “She’s probably already in the crowd over there,” she points in the direction of a large group. “Go ahead and look for her; I’ll find you in a bit.”

The tour group with a median age of about 78 is already eagerly gathered in the lobby around a museum tour guide. Chris scans the crowd, large than he anticipated, probably about 100 if he were to guess, but can’t seem to spot you. He decides to remain in the back of the group, figuring he’ll find you once the tour gets moving. Chris tunes into the addressing tour guide for the time being.

“Once we’re in the exhibit, I want everyone to remember…”

“On your left.”

Chris side-glances down to his left side to be met by your profile staring straight ahead in the same direction he was just a moment ago. He took in your kinky-curly fro, a little shrunken and and slightly frizzed than usual because of the humidity, but it worked for you. Your face is fresh and free of makeup, a look you seemed to like to sport, and he thinks to himself that he likes it on you, too. After a moment of no response from Chris, your eyes flutter up to him. He’s met with your smirking face, but you then turn your attention back to the tour guide. You both pretend to listen.

“Really? ‘On your left?’” Chris finally says.

“What’s the matter? Captain Amer—“

“Shhshsh!” Chris hovers his thick pointer fingers, over yours and his mouths to signal you to stop your thought.

You brought your chin all the way into your neck as a natural instinct to retreat the offending phalange in your face. You push his hand out of the way before harshly whispering. “You gotta not!”

“YOU gotta not!” He harshly whispers back. You quirk your brow and slightly roll your neck at him. In a less anxious whisper he says, “Keeping a low profile, thank you.” Then it all makes sense. The cap, the hoodie, the shrunken stature and a standing in the back.

“Oh… my bad.” You deflate, once again returning your gaze to the speaking tour guide. You truly hadn’t thought of the repercussions of mentioning his Marvel movie moniker.

You’ve not had to deal with that level of notoriety… not yet, anyway. The level where a blown cover in public could mean the dissension of fans and paps alike. The level where you needed a cover in the first place. Sure, you get recognized every now and again, but you’re by no means at mega star, shades and hoodies, constantly looking over your shoulder status.

And you loved that. You could sympathize with Chris. You’ve seen how crazy it can get, and it definitely is worth protecting yourself from.

Chris has been trying to keep his attention ahead, but he glances at you every few seconds. He senses the air around you change. There’s a ballet of expressions dancing across your face. You knitted your brows together, released and raised them, with your eyes and lips following suit in similarly stressed movements and shapes. You’re deep in thought.

“You alright over there? Museum guidelines aren’t that moving.”

“I really didn’t mean anything by it. I just was trying to poke fun at you, not blow up your spot.”

Chris sighs and smiles at your sentiment. “It’s alright,” He bumps your shoulder when he sees you’re still distraught. He gets a smile out of you. “Hey, you know what would help? If you stopped staring at me. Would draw less attention.”

“Uh, puh-lease! You wish I was staring. Nice try at projecting, though.”

Chris quirked a confused brow, turning to you. “What do you mean?”

“I mean what took you so long to answer me a minute ago?” Shit, Chris thought. “That’s what I thought,” you sassed.

“I wasn’t staring at you per say. There’s a lil somethin’ in your hair…”

“What? What is it?!” You delicately touch around your curls searching for the offending object.

“Here lemme help,” Chris says as he stands to his full height over you. You look up at him with those darling eyes of yours, and he looks down at you, breath caught in his throat. Just a second later, he comes back to earth as he’s plucking something weightless from your hair. He slowly brings his hand down from your head to show you what he’s retrieved. “It’s just a little… piece… of stupid,” and he boops your nose.

“You know what!” You say in a loud whisper while you enjoy hitting his arm as retaliation.

Chris feigns hurt with a gasp. “That was mean,” he’s pouting trying to suppress his smile. He pokes out his elbow towards you. “Kiss it, make it better.”

“Ugh!” You shove him away, turning your head away from him, biting back your smile. You're failing miserably when you look back to him, and he’s wearing a boyish grin himself. “You are absolutely—“

“SHHHHH!!!!” You jump and Chris clutches his chest, both of you wide-eyed and taken aback by an old man that’s turned around to shush you two.“If you two are gonna flirt, do it quietly!”

You and Chris start to stumble over your words while talking over each other.

“No, whaaa? Flirt… Huh?”

“We weren’t, like…”

“Yeah, that’s not— um…”

“Totally not what’s—“

“Not like this is a date,” Chris blurts out with a nervous chuckle then freezes in place. It’s one of those *unfortunate* moments when his mouth moved faster than his brain. He stares straight ahead, not daring to look at you. If he had, he would have seen you had a matching stunned look from his blab.

“They’re sorry, Mr. Abara,” you both feel a hand on your shoulders as Lisa comes up behind you to intervene.“They’ll be on their best behavior from here on out, right?” She nods in a prompting manner, you and Chris following her lead.

“We’re sorry,” You mumble.

“It was her fault…” Chris says, earning him smack on the shoulder from his mom. “What?! It was!”

Mr. Abara turns around with a ‘hmph’, causing you and Chris giggle like teenagers at the grumpy old man. Lisa clears her throat and you and Chris straighten up.

“You two can’t help but draw attention to yourselves, huh?”

Before either of you could refute, the tour guide is ushering your group to the showroom for your day at the museum to really begin.

——————————————————————————

The exhibition was amazing to say the least. You’d never heard of the artist before, but you were astounded by her unique use of color, texture, and light in her work. And she was a sista? You were definitely going to keep her in mind for upcoming projects you had.

However incredible the artwork was, you’re not too sure how it compared to the entertainment that was the social show.

Your trio strolled together, taking in the majesty of the first few pieces. After a while Chris starts to linger behind you and Lisa for a bit. He admires the way you and his mom get along, walking arm-in-arm looking at the art.

The tour guide has everyone gather around a specific piece. “This one is my absolute favorite! It’s called ‘Mother Earth’. Do be shy; you can get close, but do not touch.”

When you step up to the piece, Chris is also does from the other side. He smiles and offers a quaint wave as if it’s your first time meeting. You reciprocate, and both proceed to lean in to the art for inspection.

“Wow,” you say as you marvel at the depth of blackness that outlines gaps for open air to breeze through. The piece has incredible curvature that makes the inanimate object look as if it were ready to continue dancing any minute now. All it needed was the right song or magic words to bring it back to life. You move around the pedestal to look at it’s other sides, Chris moving at the same rate across from you, equally as intrigued. There’s glints of gold, silver, emerald, and jade that add to its enchantment. “You ever see something so mysterious and beautiful and wonder, ‘Where did you come from?’”

“Yeah,” you move slightly, and your now eye to eye with Chris through one of the spaces within the sculpture. His Cerulean orbs pierce through to you thoughtfully, endearingly, making you wonder what he is thinking. “Yeah, I have.” Surely he’s not talking about…

“Alright people!” The tour guide shouts with a clap. “Let’s keep it moving!”

You stand up straight, while Chris glides over to you, hands his pockets, bouncing on his toes. You both have found the ground to be particularly interesting as you walk alongside each other to view the next piece of art. Standing before it, there’s not much of intellect input you can give with Chris’ presence fuzzing your brain. The silence is kind of enjoyable between you two, though. The pressure to fill the air with witty quips is at bay at this moment, and it's nice.

After a while, you both tentatively turn towards each other. Chris goes to say something, you’re sure it’ll be his analysis of what the artist’s intent is, but he doesn’t start his thought. Instead, his arm is being linked by some elderly woman.

“Uh, hello?”

“Hiya, Handsome,” she purrs, causing Chris to chuckle and rub the back of his neck. She leans her head on his shoulder and places her free, wrinkly hand on his chest. “So tell me what you think of this piece?” She says coyly.

“Umm…” Chris looks at you for help, but you are none. You just smirk and motion your head towards the art, urging him to answer her question. “Well, I think it’s speaking to the unique experience and intersectionality of being both black and a woman in the Diaspora. There are nods to the many hardships, horror, and passed down trauma that black women have and continue to endure, yet it so often turn into the most beautiful fruit, works worthy of high regard and praise by graceful, powerful women who are also deserving of such, tenfold.”

“Wow…” you and the ogling old-timer say simultaneously. He shyly looks at the ground and you shake off the spell of his summation. I’m not REALLY about to give this man points for stating basic YET ignored facts, am I? I’ll put a pin in this, but damn will I look at him differently.

“Y’know,” Chris’ amorous aged arm-candy starts, “I love a man who knows some BIG words and is not afraid to use ‘em!” she punctuates with a growl.

It takes everything in you not to laugh at Chris’ bugged out eyes and rosy face. You think you might’ve even seen a drop of sweat form on his brow. “Oh, okay…” he says as he tries to subtly pry the woman off of him. He looks to you for salvation again, but you’re already making your way to the next piece, waving at Chris over your shoulder, “I’ll leave y’all to it,” you laugh.

——————————————————————————

The tour’s come to an end and museum goers are starting to trickle out, some staying for the cheap hors d’oeuvres that are laid out. Chris managed to get his new lady friend off of him (might or might not have taken a few minutes of hiding in the bathroom), and he’s now flicking through his pictures of the day on his phone. There’s some of you and his mom smiling nicely at one another, him taking selfies with some of the work he considers posting later to shout out the artist, and some blurry ones of you, Chris, and Lisa, taken by a shakey hand museum goer.

The pictures that stop his swift swiping are of you admiring paintings on the wall. There’s nothing particularly special about these paintings; they were in the Baroque hall outside of the featured exhibit. You however, are thee something special. He can’t quite put his finger on it, but the way you fill the frame and effortlessly draw him in is magical to him. His favorite one from the set is the one with your back to the camera. Your silhouette has become iconic to him; standing out amongst the tired and basic. Holding your own in his brain.

“Just go talk to her. It’s better— less creepy— than staring at her picture.” Chris looks to his side to find Mr. Abara walking by extremely slowly passed.

“Oh, hey, Mr. Abara. Like I said before, it’s not—“

“What’re you scared, son?”

“Um… no, it’s… it’s just not like that.”

“Not like what?”

“Not… not like that,”

Mr. Abara nods slowly. “Sure it’s not.” Chris is thinks he hears Mr. Abara mumble something about not being born yesterday, but he’s already walking in your direction at the snack table.

When he arrives, you’re picking through the repulsive options. “Why the hell would they find this acceptable to give to old people?” You mumble under your breath. “I get their on they’re way out, but—”

“Talking to ourselves, are we?” Chris speaks up, causing you to yelp and jump out of your skin. His booming laugh and your screech cause some of the older museum goers to give you to the stank eye. “Oops, might’ve given some of ‘em a heart attack.”

“Might’ve given me a heart attack!”

“I realized something,” Chris changes the subject, picking up a grape to eat.

You sigh as your heart rate comes down. “What’s that?”

“That this is the first time we’re seeing each other in the daytime and without alcohol in our systems.”

You ponder on it for a second, “Really?” you question him and he nods.

“Huh, that’s… that’s a damn shame,” you laugh a little, and he does too.

“Sure is,” he agrees, popping another grape into his mouth.

“So, how do you like me sober and in natural lighting?” You jokingly ask him, motioning down your figure for added dramatics.

He sizes you up, eyes languidly travelling up your frame. The heat rises to your face just as his gaze does. He locks in on your eyes for just as second longer than what would be deemed an innocent look before saying, “Eh, you’re alright I guess,” nonchalantly, while going for another grape.

You shake your head at him slowly, a smug smile creeping on to your lips. “You just don’t wanna give me my props, huh? Whatever.”

The two of you laugh and chat for a while while waiting for Lisa. You’re interrupted by someone calling Chris’ name in the distance. You thought it was Lisa at first, relieved that you could call it day because your stomach was growling. However when you and Chris looked in the voice’s direction, you were more interested in staying a little while longer.

“Ooooh Handsome!!” Chris’ aged admirer chirped across the room. She must’ve been looking for him because her eyes were squinted and she moved her head from left to right in search of her unrequited beau.

“He’s right—”

“Don’t you dare!” Chris chides, his firm tone fluttering your stomach just a little. “We gotta go!”

He’s panicking over a lustful lady twice his age and you’re amused greatly, but you had no time to appreciate it as Chris put his hand on your lower back to lead you out of the museum. “Wait, what about your mom?” You tried to protest.

“She’ll find her way!”

“There you are!” Chris’ Boomer bugaboo exclaims.

“Go! Go! Go!”

——————————————————————————

“Well, this is my stop!” Lisa says as you all pull up to the youth theater where she works. She turns to you in the backseat. “Thank you for joining me today! Next time I’ll leave my son at home since he thinks he can leave me in the museum.”

“Hey! You didn’t see the look in that woman’s eyes! You would’ve ran like hell, too,” Chris exclaims from the driver’s seat.

“My poor baby,” Lisa pinches his cheeks as she facetiously dotes and Chris rolls his eyes, eliciting a giggle from you. She pulls him close to her mouth to whisper something you can’t hear. You turn to look outside your window, your way of giving them privacy.

“Are you threatening me, Ma?” You hear Chris humorously say.

“Threatening, mothering. Tomato, tahmato. Just do it. I’ll see you later, honey,” and with that Lisa leaves for work.

Chris drops his head, shaking it and laughing to himself.

“What is it?” You ask.

“Uh… my mom wants me to ask if you’d like to get some lunch. Since that museum food was shit and all.”

You arch a brow and contemplate the offer. You still weren’t so sure about hanging out with him solo. But I mean, I COULD eat.

Sensing your hesitation, Chris says, “It’s cool if… you don’t want to, I get it—“

“Sure,” you cut him off, unbuckling your seatbelt to climb over the front console to the passenger seat. You sit with a huff, and adjust your clothes. You looked over at him, and he’s got a look of slight disbelief. Unsure if it’s from you saying ‘yes’ or climbing into his front seat, you ask, “What?”

“Nothing, nothing…” he smiles at you. You look down at your lap, unable to meet his eyes. He lets his eyes linger on your shy form for a few seconds before clearing his throat, and asking, “So, uh, what kinda food do you want?”

“I’m down for anything.”

Chris amusedly huffs.“You women always say that, then when we men try to stick it in—“

“WOW, really?!” You swat at his arm and realize how buff he is because he didn’t even flinch. You try not to give in to your urge to laugh, but it’s hard when Chris is failing miserably and holding in his. You shouldn’t find it funny, but you kind of do. You let out a small laugh and roll your eyes at him. “You are absolutely childish.”

“No, not absolutely. I think I’ve prove to have some level of intellect today.”

“If you’re talking about your dissertation earlier, verdicts still out on if you get a cookie.”

“S’long as there’s a trial,” he says with a heartwarming smile that you mirror. “And I was kidding, by the way, with the-- I don’t want you to think I’m some kind of pervert. You set it up for the joke, and I —”

“You don’t have to explain. I can take a joke.”

“Ok…cool.”

“Ok, cool,” you mimic him. “So what are we gonna eat?”

“You like pizza?”

“Who doesn’t like pizza?” you retort.

“True. Well, there’s this place, a true local staple ‘cos it’s the BEST pizza in Boston! Probably the whole world!” Gushes about this place.

“Not in the whole world!” you mock him. “Do they have vegan options?” He blinks at you. “What now?” you ask with a shrug.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re a vegan? Uggghhh!!!” Chris dramatically puts his head on the steering wheel.

You laugh at his antics. “Is that a deal breaker for you?”

He scoffs, then looks out his window, trying to avoid you seeing his cheeks turn red. You smirk to yourself knowing damn well you just made him blush. Still looking out his window at the rainy Boston day, “No real pizza place is gonna have ‘vegan options’,” he finishes with a Valley girl accent.

“First of all, it’s scary how good you are at that voice, and secondly, I beg to differ! You’ve clearly never been to Mellow Mushroom. Best pizza there is, AND there’s vegan options. I mean what did you get up to when you were in Atlanta?”

“Oh sweethaht,” he stresses his Boston accent, “you’re not ready for those stories…” he chuckles looking at you sideways through his lashes with a smirk, hoping you’d get the joke. He finds you trying to suppress a laugh, shaking your head then turning to look out the windshield, make him laugh in that mischievous way you’ve come to be fond of

“I know a place we could go to eat” you offer.

“Yeah? What kind of food?”

“Um… I don’t think I’ll tell you. It’s a surprise.”

“You’re lucky I’m in a ‘surprise’ kind of mood.”

You put the address in his car’s built in GPS, and you guys are on your way to lunch. But just before he pulls off, he looks at you with that boyish smile of his and sparkling blue eyes. You were re-applying your lip gloss in his overhead mirror. You turned mid-gloss glide, the wand still on your bottom lip. “What now?!”

Chris' gaze lingers on your lips before he looks up to your own sparkling eyes. “Nothing…” he said though you knew it was something; your heart didn’t flutter delightfully for no reason. “Nothing at all.”

Part 7 coming soon! What’d you think?

#chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans imagine #chris evans one shot #Chris Evans series #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x poc!reader

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yukiwrites · 3 years

Text

End of One, Start of Another

Thank you so much for the support and patience as always, @breeachuu! The boy!! He grew!!! sobsss

Summary: They were right at Enbarr's doorstep -- the war was almost over. Wolfie would be able to finally put that terrible chapter behind him while thinking about writing the rest of his life with Caspar.

Commission info HERE and HERE!

__________________________

For all that Wolfram thought that it would be alright no matter how conscious he was of his feelings towards Caspar, he did a pretty terrible job at acting like normal once he went to turn in for the night at their shared tent. Having Caspar’s broad body close enough to be touched by the slightest reach; having his excited huffing as they talked about this or that before being claimed by sleep… Wolfram’s heart could barely function well as his cheeks reddened the longer they spoke.

Thankfully, it was dark. Caspar kept talking like usual; about how he knew Fort Merceus’ layout and where the ‘strong stuff’ was being kept and how he had been entrusted by the Professor to lead a battalion through their attack. He was excited to conquer the place he had always thought impregnable, though there was a layer of relief in his voice as he said that Count Bergliez’ forces had been replaced by the Death Knight’s.

Apparently, fighting the embodiment of death was still preferable than fighting his own, extremely scary, father. Besides, he had been wanting to give the masked man a wallop since a long while ago, so he was excited to lead his team to that unforgettable brawl.

Despite the certainly dangerous and rather brutal topic of conversation right before bed, Wolfram simply watched as Caspar blabbed about punching stuff (while punching the air) with a lovestruck gaze. He simply hummed whenever Caspar spoke, closing his eyes as though he was being lulled to sleep with his crush’s deep voice, which was even deeper as they were trying to be quiet and speaking in whispers.

When he woke up, Wolfram felt terribly embarrassed about having been so oblivious to his own feelings for so long and for indulging in their usual skinship with now impure intentions. Now he held hands with Caspar knowing why he wanted to, so he felt more nervous than usual as they walked from one place to the other, wondering if his hand was sweating.

Regardless, even if it was, it went all over Caspar’s head as he just took it all in stride. The shorter man simply led the way through camp before they went their separate ways to prepare to battle.

Byleth noticed how nervous Wolfram looked as she inspected the units before deploying them and poked the half manakete, “are you alright, Wolfram? Should I have you wait in the reserves?”

“O-oh, no, I’m okay, Byleth! Don’t worry about me.” He waved both hands in front of his face, startled. Then, he lowered his gaze and scratched the back of his neck. “... I was just wondering if I could be deployed with Unit 3…” he spoke in a small voice, just above a whisper.

Blinking, the Professor looked up for a second to think before nodding. “Alright, then you’ll be the liaison between Units 1 and 3.”

Wolfram’s face lit up immediately, as though he was a child being given their favorite candy. “Thank you, Byleth! I’ll work hard.”

Byleth simply smiled and nodded, giving Wolfram his leave. They divided the group that was going inside Fort Merceus in three after receiving information from their pegasus knights regarding the enemy’s forces. Unit 1 would go straight to the middle, towards one of the demonic beasts stationed in front of the Death Knight’s post. Unit 2 would head to the right to deal with the ballistae while Unit 3 would head to the left to take care of the second demonic beast guarding the Death Knight’s flank.

Wolfram usually prefered to fight monsters rather than people, so although he would go to the thick of battle, he wasn’t as apprehensive as he had been at the beginning of all that fighting. For one, he had Caspar with him, which somehow gave him much more confidence in himself and in the results of the battle.

Once they were sent out, the hectic fighting made it only possible for Wolfram to see what was in front of him, so he did his best to comply with all of Byleth’s orders and fight to the best of his abilities. After Caspar had fought that Titanus barehanded back in Fhirdiad, he had gotten a lot more prone to just smashing things with his fists rather than with the gauntlets Byleth always gave him.

For some reason unknown to Wolfram, but innate to Caspar, fighting barehanded enhanced his own style, which made it possible for him to strike just as much as if he had been using a weapon. It was incredible how the bones of his knuckles were still intact after punching through armor and hard scale all day, but Caspar seemed to get more and more fired up instead of exhausted as the battle raged on.

It was an inspiration, honestly. The battalion assigned to him had their morale through the roof after they defeated the demonic beast once they had cleared the left side of the fortress. Wolfie focused on healing his team while Unit 1 had advanced towards the Death Knight’s location, scrambling to run after Caspar who was excited to punch the masked man on the face.

After the battle, however, Wolfie regretted following Caspar there, if only because of Mercedes’ grief for losing her brother for the Empire.

It was like a wake-up slap.

It had only been a day since Wolfram had realized his feelings towards Caspar, so he was still drunk in that happiness bubble of looking at everything through pink lenses, but the reality of war was still gruesome. He went alongside Annette to stay by Mercedes’ side as she cried over Jeritza’s body, holding Caspar’s hand. Some of their classmates offered Mercedes to give the Death Knight a proper burial, if only in her consideration -- especially since Flayn and Seteth were openly hostile towards him due to happenings of the past.

Wolfram didn’t realize he was crying up until he felt Caspar’s rough hand patting him in the shoulder once they returned to their camp. “You really like crying, huh? Hey, were you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine…” Wolfie shook his head, drying his tears with his free hand as a faint smile grew on his lips. “Thanks for being there with me, Caspar. I know you’ve been wanting to kill him for a while, so it might’ve felt, I dunno-”

“Nah, the man’s dead. No need to hold grudges about that after he was defeated. ‘Sides’, he still made Mercedes cry, so he deserved what was comin’ to him.”

This time Wolfie simply nodded, tightening his hold on Caspar’s hand. Finding the taller boy somehow more huggable than usual, Caspar wrapped his hand around Wolfie’s waist, bringing his head down to his own shoulder. “Mhm.” He grunted, suddenly clogged for some reason.

Still a bit too fragile to freak out over the hug, Wolfie closed his eyes and enjoyed his friend’s warmth, letting his body sink onto Caspar’s as all the tension left him.

Only Enbarr stood between them and Edelgard, so it was no wonder that although the Kingdom army was high in morale, they had to prepare more carefully than usual. That being so, they returned to the monastery while keeping a considerable force behind at Fort Merceus so they could prepare more thoroughly.

The ‘last battle’, so to say, would happen all at once -- they wouldn’t have time to rest between taking over the capital and infiltrating the castle to defeat the emperor, so they would need to be in perfect shape.

Returning to the monastery after a while also eased the classmates’ minds for a beat, which helped increase their morale. Caspar and Wolfram naturally went to their shared room on the second floor, as being together was already the norm for the two of them.

Wolfie didn’t even think too much about it, though perhaps he missed sleeping in the same tent since they were placed more closely than when one was using the bed and the other, a sleeping bag.

However, that slight distance made Wolfie able to observe Caspar more accurately, clutching his chest as his eyes trailed through his friend’s masculine features. He hid his head under the cover to hide his face from his own thoughts that went haywire whenever he looked at Caspar.

Should he ask for the hair? Should he pour these strong, hot feelings into his fire to make Caspar’s jewel? But then, how would he explain it?

Surely Caspar would just rip some hair on the spot should Wolfram ask, but he was still nervous about the slight possibility of being asked what it was for and how to properly explain that it was a, well…

His face almost exploded with heat as he recalled a term Nidra talked about with displeasure as Henry cackled loudly when mentioned. A term a fellow soldier from the time Nidra was in the Shepherds used when ‘studying’ her behavior.

But what could Wolfram say in response to it? It was the truth!

Still, saying that the precise kind of jewel Wolfram wanted to make was part of the manekete’s ‘mating procedure’ was just as mortifying as Nidra had made it seem like whenever Henry poked fun at it from time to time.

Feeling suffocated under the blanket, but still intent on not showing his head to the outside world, Wolfie squeezed his eyes shut, wondering if the swirling thoughts inside his head would just fade before he finally managed to sleep.

However, after a few more minutes of agonizing thinking, Wolfie sprang up with a determined face.

Flying!

Yeah, stretching his wings would do him good, yeah. Yeah, yeah. He nodded to himself as though he was talking to someone else before quietly slipping out of the room. Even if he didn’t have any more reasons to hide his dragon half, he still didn’t want to wake anyone up, so he tiptoed to the stairs before running down to get much-needed fresh air.

Even though he didn’t think he would be able to come to a conclusion in one night, just being able to fly around with his eyes closed and enjoy the night was already enough to help him clear his mind of doubts. He was going to ask for the hair, yes, and in the near future, definitely, but he still had to come up with a plan of attack.

For some reason, Dorothea’s face popped up in his mind when he thought about who to run for help with this, so he pulled a string of memories involving the diva and remembered how understanding she had been in the past whenever he wanted to talk her ear off about Caspar. Surely she would be just as willing this time, as well.

To the surprise of no one, Dorothea gladly welcomed Wolfie to her room once he approached her, fidgeting and unable to voice the reason for his visit. Well, she could mostly tell even if he didn’t expressly say it, so she just smiled widely as she poured a cup of tea for the increasingly red Wolfram.

Be it out of nervousness or some sudden dragon-like resistance to heat, Wolfram gulped down the tea all at once, which somehow helped clear his mind enough for the words to come out of his lips. “Um, it’s about Caspar.”

Dorothea’s eyes glistened as she rested her chin on both of her hands. “Yes? Go on.” She sing-songed, her lovely voice helping Wolfram relax.

“There’s this, ah… custom in my family. Well, in my species, to be more precise.” He scratched his cheek, “about asking someone for a lock of their hair to make a jewel with our scales and hair that intertwines our fates together.”

As he spoke, Dorothea’s eyes widened just as much as her smile.

“Ah, I wanted to ask for your hair at some point, too,” Wolfie added as though in passing, receiving a confused frown from Dorothea.

“Me? Wolfie, I’m flattered you feel this way, but-”

“Yeah, I gave Dimitri one since he was my first friend in this world. I’ll ask Dedue, too.” Wolfie bobbed his head to the sides; speaking about his other friends managed to make him calm down considerably.

Dorothea tilted her head to the side. “As ‘intertwining fates’ you didn’t mean only in the romantic sense, then?” She asked and he immediately widened his eyes in surprise, flushing his cheeks visibly.

“Eh- no, it’s not only in that way! Gosh, did you think I was- oh my Naga.” He fanned his face before hiding it in his hands. “I love you, but it’s not like I love-”

The words were stuck on his throat. He gulped as Dorothea smirked teasingly.

“Like you love Caspie?” She nudged, enjoying how he flinched and dug his face deeper into his hands. He simply nodded, then banged his head on the table as smoke seemed to rise from his face.

“Heeheehee, oh, Wolfie, you’re so cute!” She patted Wolfie’s silver hair, now free from the bandanna. “Did you come here to brainstorm how to ask Caspie for his hair? Ah, I can give you a few strands now if you want…” She trailed off. “Though I don’t think I can cut anything too much.”

That made Wolfram lift his gaze instantly. “Oh, it doesn't need to be a lot! A few strands from your hair brush will be enough, yup.” He nodded as she smiled sweetly.

“Alright, I’ll give it to you before you leave.” She took the cup with warm tea to her lips, then placed it gracefully on the saucer. “Now, about Caspie…”

Wolfram gulped, nodding and straightening himself on his seat.

“I’m going to be blunt about this, okay, Wolfie? Usually I don’t talk like this, but… this is a very serious case.” She spoke in a somber voice, making Wolfram feel cold sweat drip down his back.

“S-serious case?”

“...” Dorothea took a moment to look down before looking at Wolfram’s eyes with the most serious expression she could muster. “Of stupidity.”

Wolfram blinked in surprise, taken aback by her words. “W-what?”

Dorothea sighed. “Caspie has a really thick skin, so if you truly want to pursue this path, you have to be prepared to deal with his, ah, well, stupidity.” She tried to sugarcoat it, but there was really no other way to talk about it. “About the hair, you can really just say it’s a custom from your people that I’m sure he’ll just pull from the middle of his head and give himself a bald spot without hesitation.”

Flabbergasted, Wolfie opened and closed his mouth, ultimately nodding. “Yeah, that… looks like him.”

“Right?” Dorothea smiled sheepishly. “I’m sorry to say this, Wolfie, but if this is the path you chose… you’ll have to take the initiative on everything.”

“E-everything…”

“At least for the first few times, yes.” Dorothea nodded solemnly, then looked up in thought. “I think I can ask Yurikins to get something for you, so count that as a getting together present once we come back to the monastery after the war.”

Still shook from the revelation of having to take the first step on everything, Wolfie looked up at Dorothea with shaking pupils. “Eh? Present?”

“Don’t worry about it for now, sweetie. Now, I think I can give you a few pointers on some things…”

Talking to Dorothea was truly enlightening in its own right, as Wolfram spent at least a week completely out of it. He did all of his usual tasks and participated in classes on auto pilot, just following through the motions like he wasn’t truly there.

Since he still smiled and followed Caspar around as usual, the short man didn’t notice a thing, which only cemented Dorothea’s words even deeper into Wolfie’s mind.

He had to take the lead on everything.

From what he had heard, however, it seemed that he could have a really big chance of his feelings being mutual. Of course, since Caspar was the embodiment of cluelessness, one couldn’t really tell unless they prodded, but still, just the amount of skinship they shared was something that was on a higher level of what usually went through between normal friends.

Whenever he thought ‘Now's the time to ask’ about the lock of hair, he completely froze up and felt his face, ears and neck all heat up in embarrassment.

It was a mess.

He was even more of a mess whenever his fingers brushed with Caspar’s by accident -- which startled him much more than when he was mentally prepared to hold hands. Touching him without meaning to; watching how Caspar trained with a huge grin on his face and realizing how his own legs always trembled; feeling the sun beat inside his chest whenever his gaze met Caspar’s…

Being in love was both painful and rewarding.

Sometimes he would catch himself smiling as he patted his own chest, as though congratulating his heart for surviving yet another day of constant abuse. The fluctuating emotions were all so new to Wolfie he couldn’t help but relish in them, even though he agonized over how to word himself properly.

He also kept a close watch on the moon, wondering if seeing her close to being full would help with his resolve to ask the question more quickly.

It felt like the days dragged on and passed in the blink of an eye at the same time. During the day, as he fought a battle with his heart to just keep himself breathing properly, it was unfair that night passed quickly enough not to allow him to gather his energy for yet another day of being in love.

Still, time did help him come to terms with asking the question -- soon it would be the day they would need to leave for Enbarr. Wolfie knew how stressful all of that was going to be, so he had to take this step now, before the war was over.

A few days before they were to leave, Wolfie was waiting for Caspar to finish a random brawl he started at the training grounds, now all too used to this strange way his crush had of making friends.

“Oh, Wolf! You were there? I didn’t see ya.” Caspar walked over to Wolfram, pulling his shirt up to dry the sweat from his face.

Of course, his abs were in full view, which made Wolfram sputter before faking a cough.

“Hey, you okay?” Caspar asked, patting Wolfie’s back with his free hand, his bare, sweaty and glistery skin still in full view.

Wolfram was openly ogling, which was bad. But he couldn’t take his eyes off of-

He coughed for real at the way his thoughts were taking, receiving heavier pats on the back from a frowning Caspar.

“Get it together, man!” He almost slapped Wolfram’s back after the coughing fit slowly drew to a close.

“S-sorry, I- choked there with nothing.” Wolfie cleared his throat to scratch it from the inside.

“Yeah, I know the feel. You cool? Let’s go eat, I’m starving.” Caspar wrapped his arm around Wolfie’s shoulder, making the tall young man bend down to his stature. But Wolfram stood in place, making Caspar look up at him. “What’s up? C’mon.”

“I… There’s something I wanna say, Caspar.”

“Yeah? I’m all ears.” Caspar tilted his head to the side.

“There’s this… um, custom back home. Well, in my family, more specifically.” He blabbed on under Caspar’s unwavering gaze. “We, um, make a jewel to give to people who are important to us.”

“Oh damn, you MAKE one? Must be hard to do it from scratch. Buying it wouldn’t do?”

“N-no, it’s a special kind of jewel. We need a lock of hair from the person -- well, and one from us, too -- and some scales…”

“That’s dope.” Caspar nodded, seeming truly impressed.

“...” Wolfie bit his lower lip, noticing Caspar really wasn’t going to offer his hair. “I have to take the initiative, I have to take it…” He mumbled under his breath in a tone so low, not even Caspar, who was basically gluing their faces together, heard.

“Huh?”

Wolfram tried to take a deep breath, but his body was shaking so much he barely managed to inhale. Instead, he just started running his mouth.“Um, I wanted to ask, um, well… can I have a few strands of your hair? I wanna make a jewel for you.”

“Oh, that’s it? Sure, man!” Caspar let go of Wolfram’s shoulder and reached out to pluck a lock right from the middle of his head just as Dorothea had said he would. Wolfie tried to stop him, but by the time he realized what was going on, Caspar was already handing him a tuft of light blue hair. “That enough? I can pluck more if you wanna!”

His hands shaking, Wolfram accepted the over the top amount of hair with both hands, as though accepting an offering. “Y-yes, that’s enough. Thank you.”

“Dope. How’re you gonna make it? Down at the forge?”

“Oh, no, it’s with my own fire.” Wolfie replied instinctively as he focused on placing the hair inside a neatly folded handkerchief.

“YOU CAN SPIT FIRE TOO? Oh man, can I watch?”

“N-no!” Wolfie shot him down right away. “It’s something really intimate, so I need to be alone.”

“Intimate?” Caspar frowned. “You gonna be naked, or something? But we bathed together already.”

Wolfram froze in place as the memories he had purposely repressed resurfaced. “Well, yeah- but- I, um, ah…” He babbled, his face beet-red.

Caspar crossed his arms in confusion. “Yeah? You really okay, man?”

“A-anyway, you can’t watch!” Wolfram squeaked out before running away, unable to look at Caspar’s general direction.

“Hey, wait! Where you going!!”

To say that it would take only death to erase the mortification from that night was no exageration. Wolfram thought he could be a functioning member of society even after realizing he was in love, but remembering those… very well defined things… and firm body…

It! It was making him slowly go insane.

Could he pour such… impure thoughts into his fire? The moon wasn’t on the right rotation yet, so that was a relief, but still. He could barely look Caspar in the eyes before his face exploded in embarrassment and he had to spend the rest of the day fanning himself to calm down.

That was no mood to march to war, that was for sure.

Of course, once they were right by the gates of Enbarr, the war drums and sounds of battle all around them made Wolfie able to finally focus on something else for once, which he was unconsciously thankful for. Caspar had been nervous during the trip down south, wondering if his father was going to be part of the forces defending the capital, but his fears were unfounded.

Count Bergliez wasn’t in Enbarr. That fact alone made Caspar’s fighting smirk sprout on his lips -- making Wolfie’s heart skip a beat in the process -- as they were stationed to battle.

There were a large number of demonic beasts around, so they had to tread carefully. It also meant that Wolfie had a lot to focus on while still bearing in mind that he had to conserve energy for the battle inside the palace.

Everything was happening all at the same time at once -- there were monsters, fire, battle cries, wounded people, crumbling buildings… it was all too much, so Wolfie was having a hard time just doing what he was supposed to.

Which was why he was surprised to hear Dimitri’s roar from the frontlines.

“The way to the palace is clear! Let’s move!” He shouted atop of his lungs as the Kingdom army all bellowed behind him.

“Are you okay, boy? Let’s have you rest here now.” Wolfie patted Aquilo’s neck, prompting it to land. “I’ll fly with my own wings from now on, so go to the forward camp and wait, okay?”

Aquilo whined, but ultimately concurred as it was too tired to take on another battle right after this one. Wolfie followed the soldiers storming towards the gates, finding his classmates centered on Dimitri.

He spoke of the war and how close they were to finally ending it all.

How they had suffered for five years without hope and how they all came together under his and Byleth’s banner. Now it would be the time to finish it all.

Wolfie was about to also say that he would fight to the end with the friends he made, but he suddenly felt something sickening coming from the palace. He frowned as he covered his nose with one hand, his stomach churning.

What could that be? It felt somewhat revolting.

If he hadn’t been so wired after the battle and worried about the next one, he would’ve managed to link that bad feeling with the one he felt all those years back in Remire village, or just recently at Derdriu. For that moment, however, he was someone who had to protect Byleth and Dimitri, so his entire focus was on the battle at hand.

Soon after entering the palace, however, he found the reason for that revolting feeling: Edelgard herself had turned into a demonic beast of sorts as she still retained her human-like form and ego.

Wolfie was terrified out of his mind once he made eye contact with the soulless monster, but he wasn’t the same as he was back when he first arrived in this world. He stomped his foot down and fought with everything he had, using every single spell he had learned as well as all lance arts he had perfected under Byleth.

This was it.

This was the reason for him being brought into this world. To watch over the Heart of Immortals and protect this world from its demise.

Besides, now he was facing a monster, so his fighting prowess grew exponentially.

It was a formidable enemy, however, have no doubt about it. All of the elite soldiers on their side had to attack at once to be able to finally strike it down -- and Dimitri himself dealt the final blow after trying to extend his hand to her one last time.

Once Dimitri walked out of the throne room, his hand in Byleth’s, Wolfie felt his legs give out.

“Is it-” he murmured, his voice drowned by the increasingly loud shouts of joy from the soldiers all around him. “Is it over?”

“Hahaha!” Laughter echoed left and right, amassing itself with its neighbor and turning into a large snowball of happiness that spread across the hall, the palace, the capital… and through Fódlan.

The war was over.

Wolfram breathed in, as though that was the first time in five years that he had done so.

The air, that was supposed to be heavy from the remains of the battle all around him, was clean and pure. He could breathe in as far as he wanted, being filled with something much more meaningful than just air: hope.

The crisis was averted; his mission was completed.

“Oh, Naga,” he clasped both hands in prayer, tears spilling down his cheeks without stopping. “I did it. I can’t believe, I- it’s over…” he bent down to pray, sniffling with his now clogged nose. “It’s- it’s done…!”

He felt a quiet laugh in the air, mixed with the loudness of the explosive joy around him, though he could discern Naga’s chuckles from anything in the world. He felt a warm hand patting his head, much more clearly than he had ever felt Naga’s touch before, as though She was transmitting his own Mother’s hands that congratulated him from persevering.

Wolfie’s sobbed loudly, his body shaking inside his prayer. “M-Mother…” he sniffled, allowing the dam he had built around his heart to finally break down and allow himself to miss his family in full. “It’s done, everyone… Wolfie did it!” He giggled as he imagined how each of his family members were going to congratulate him once he came back, his tears flowing endlessly.

However, a sudden hand on his shoulder to force his head up startled the boy out of his prayer. “WOLF! You okay, man? You’re all hunched down- lemme carry you to the healers!” Caspar quickly pulled Wolfram into his arms, princess carrying him towards the room they had set up to the infirmary.

Wide-eyed, Wolfie’s tear stained gaze fixed itself on Caspar. “I’m okay!” He laughed, wrapping both arms around Caspar’s neck. “I’m alright, Caspar! Don’t worry!”

“Muh? But you were all hunched over- and you’re crying-”

“Hehee, I cry a lot, remember?” Wolfie nudged his wet cheek on Caspar’s, still high on the joy of it all.

Caspar’s shoulders sagged as he stopped midway to the healer’s room. “Oh, yeah, that’s tr-”

“Hey, Caspar.” Wolfie adjusted himself on his crush’s arms, holding his shoulder with one hand as he used the other one to pull Caspar’s chin towards him. “I love you.”

“Me too, man. You’re cool.” Caspar replied immediately, completely oblivious to the true depth of the random declaration.

“Heehe,” Wolfie giggled, then laughed loudly, throwing his head back. “Nyahaha! Oh my Naga, you’re so stupid.” He gurgled the words through his laughter, stroking his thumb on Caspar’s cheek.

“Hey, what’dya mean by that-mmmph?!” Before he could even retor, Wolfram dove his soft lips into Caspar’s, making the shorter man widen his eyes in surprise.

Honestly, if it had been up to Wolfram, that confession would never happen, what with his overthinking.

But it did because it was now. It did because it was Caspar.

It did because it was them.

Of course, the kiss was but a peck on the lips, as Wolfram had no kissing experience, but that was enough to let his point across. Once he pulled away, he saw Caspar’s dumb-looking expression, with gapped mouth and wide eyes -- tinged with red cheeks.

“OH, I get it now! Man, okay that was really dumb of me.” Caspar blabbed, adjusting Wolfram in his arms before sitting him on top of a fallen column and placing himself in the middle of his legs. “Alright, now we can continue.”

Wolfie didn’t have the time to get embarrassed as Caspar’s tongue invaded his mouth, ravishing it all in a way that he knew only Caspar would be able to.

He didn’t get to hear the response to his confession, but that was something he would demand… later. Perhaps after fifteen more of these kisses.

#fire emblem three houses #fe3h #caspar fire emblem #fatesona #fodlansona #SOUND THE WEDDING BELLSSSSSS IT HAPPENED YALLL #GOSH writing that last part was so satisfying SO SATISFYING #my writings #yuki's commissions

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reddie-fangirl24 · 4 years

Text

The Wedding Date (A Reddie Crossover)

This was a commission from @memory-vacant. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR COMMISSION! I hope you enjoy the story.

Richie could not believe it. His little sister was married. After a moment of hesitation on whether or not she was ready to get married, Richie convinced her - with help from Eddie luckily. To think this morning Richie sought nothing about love. And yet in so little time he actually felt like he was falling for Eddie.

All this was supposed to be a facade so he’d get his sister to stop nagging him. But as he was holding Eddie’s hand throughout the entire ceremony, Richie slowly crawled back into that annoying turtle shell of his and shoved his hands inside his pockets.

To get away from all the festivities for a bit, Eddie and Richie explored the house. Eddie liked to talk. The moment he showed up he was blabbing his ear off. At first, Richie didn’t pay much attention to him, but upon listening to him talk more about his overbearing mother and this awful woman, Myra he was set to marry, Richie felt bad for him. For most of his life, Richie was alone. Despite being with someone, Eddie felt alone, too.

Finally, they showed up in his parent’s bedroom. Richie would have taken Eddie to his old bedroom but his parents turned it into a regular guest bedroom since he moved out when he was eighteen. He wondered what Eddie would have thought of all the posters of comedians that he had on the walls along with the wacky wallpaper design he chose.

If he was lucky, maybe he could get him to come back to his apartment. What? In L.A?? They were in Maine, and Eddie lived in New York. That was only in his dreams.

Just like that, they flopped down on the bed in humorous positions. Weddings were exhausting.

For a few minutes, neither spoke, each dwelling in their own thoughts. Richie wondered if Eddie was aware of how close they were to cuddling. He wasn’t used to physical affection like a simple pat on the back. Just the thought of cuddling up with Eddie right now made Richie’s heart race. Did all this really have to end in a half-hour when he and Stanley would get in the car and drive away - back to L.A., the other side of the country?

“I feel like I have been talking the whole time,” Eddie said, interrupting the silence.

“Huh? What?” Richie asked coming out of his thoughts. He’d been staring at a crack on the ceiling. How long had that been there for?

Eddie turned so he could face him more. There was that sad look in his eyes once again. It was oh so reminiscent of looking at himself in the mirror.

“I feel like I barely know you.”

“What? My boisterous attitude wasn’t enough?” Richie joked, propping himself up on the bed with one elbow.

Eddie stared into his eyes, searching for answers as time was running out. “Tell me fun facts about you.”

“Uh... well, I’m a comedian.”

“I can tell.”

“No, I mean that I am an actual comedian!”

“Like that’s not obvious, I’ve seen you on TV,” Eddie told him, scoffing.

Richie raised his eyebrow, surprised. “You have? Why didn’t you say so?”

“Because I didn’t know if you wanted to talk about that. I like your work.”

Feeling his insides explode from cuteness overload, Richie felt humbled by the compliment. He always worried that he wasn’t doing something right like other comedians. But they all had their own technique, right?

“Do you have any more fun facts about yourself, or you just boring?” Eddie asked with a smirk. He could just feel his warm breath in his face. Sarcasm was their main language. He never thought he would meet someone who shared that in common with him.

“I’m allergic to fabric softener.”

Eddie’s eyes bulged. “What?! Then why are we sitting here? You need to get off the bed before your throat closes up and then you pass out and then we have to take you -”

“Hey, Eds, calm down! I was just messing with you!” Richie told him, waving a handout. He knew he shouldn’t have said that. His breathing was rapid. Eddie took out his inhaler and took a puff.

Richie creased his eyebrow at him. Although Eddie told him that he had asthma, there was something strange about that. The way he choked on his breath reminded him of when he’d get overwhelmed. Eddie never needed the inhaler when he ran. It was only when he was startled.

Not amused at all, Eddie’s whole face flushed red. “You should never joke about medical allergies, Richie!”

“Gee, I know that know,” Richie lightly rolled his eyes.

“You are so infuriating!” Eddie crossed his arms, sulking.

“Well, that’s another fact about me!” Richie laughed. Sensing that he ruined the moment because Eddie had his back to him, he mellowed down. “I’m sorry.”

“Really?”

“I don’t like it when people are mad at me,” Richie told him sincerely, lightly placing his hand on his shoulder.

Eddie turned around, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “Seriously? ‘Cause that’s kind of a part of your nature as a comedian.”

“Hey, who says I’m like everyone else? I like to have quiet time whenever I get the chance.”

“You? Quiet time?” Eddie snorted. Embarrassed, his cheeks went red. Richie laughed at the sound, making Eddie join in.

“What’s so funny about that?” he smirked at him as he continued to giggle.

“Because you, Richie Tozier, I cannot see you having a quiet moment in your life!” Eddie poked him in the shoulder. Here’s the side of Eddie that Richie liked. That side was kept repressed. He was fighting to escape so he could live the life that he always wanted. Then again, what was he thinking?

“What do you do on nights you have to yourself?” Eddie asked intrigued, crossing his legs on the bed. Faintly, Richie could hear voices from downstairs. His sister was very excited, laughing. It was his sisters day. Let her have all the attention. He didn’t want to miss her going off in that limo with her new husband.

“I like to cook pasta and sit on my deck,” Richie explained. “Sometimes I think up routines, I read...”

“You read?” Eddie beamed.

“No, Edward Spaghetti, I tare out the pages and throw them to the birds! ‘Course I read!”

“Don’t you fucking call me that!” Eddie warned, though the threat was ruined by a smile.

“I’ve been calling you that and Eds all day. Admit it, you like it!”

They laughed for a bit. This was the most Richie laughed for some time. He felt this feeling that he couldn’t come up with the words to describe it. Yes, he was happy. But his insides felt warm.

Feeling something buzz, Eddie checked his phone. His smile immediately faded. “My ride is going to be here in about fifteen minutes.”

And just like that, Richie’s heart fell into his stomach. He didn’t want this day to end. For some reason, he felt like all this was meant to happen. His sister always said that which annoyed him. All he wanted was to see him happy. She understood him better than their parents, well mainly his dad. But maybe this time he shouldn’t let this opportunity go.

“Eddie,” Richie said, using Eddie’s real name instead of a nickname for the first time that day. Even Eddie was surprised. Feeling his mouth dry up, Richie’s stomach turned. Great, the nerves were going to mess this up for him. “... Do you have to go?”

“Well, yeah, I have to catch the train,” he said, his nose turning up at the thought.

Spotting his hand right there on the bed, Richie touched it. The touch caught Eddie’s attention. He was a bit alarmed. But he didn’t take his hand away.

“What if you didn’t go back?”

“Richie, I have a life in New York. And... I’m engaged.”

“To some woman who you don’t want to marry,” Richie pointed out.

Eddie looked like he was going to disagree, but he was quiet. “It’s not that simple.”

Okay, here it goes. “I think I’d miss you even if we never met.”

The other man was touched by the comment, holding his hand a little tighter. “Aw, Rich. I hate to say it, but me too.”

Feeling a magnet drawing them in, they stared into one anothers eyes, at how close they were to touching. Eddie’s breath was enough to make him go wild. None of them knew who started the fierce makeout session, but they dove into the bed in a matter of seconds with Richie lying on top of Eddie. His lips were soft, like a pillow as Richie planted kisses all around his face. Their tongues mixed around in delight as Eddie wrapped his hand around Richie’s neck, pulling him closer.

As they moaned and kissed more Richie stopped when his hand was about to loosen Eddie’s belt buckle. Time stopped. No, he wasn’t... realizing that he was in the awful town he grew up in, Richie panicked jumping away from the bed.

Eddie was alarmed too, finally realizing what had happened. He was so lost in the moment. This never happened. But he was more concerned about Richie. “Are you okay?”

Nervously tangling his fingers through his hair, Richie didn’t look at him. “Y-You’re right.”

“What are you talking about?” Eddie asked trying to reach out and touch him. He was scared that it was him. Myra was not interested in a sexual relationship. But he wanted one. And this... it felt right.

Trying to fix himself up as best as he could, including his wild hair, Richie raced to the door leading out of the bedroom. Don’t look up at him, Richie told himself feeling his heart cracking in two.

“You’re right. You do have a life,” he uttered brokenly.

Going to argue with him, that was true. What would his mother think of him cheating. On a man. And he could never do that to her. But all of this felt so right. Like it was meant to be.

Richie opened the door and left. “Nice meeting you, Eddie.”

#reddie #it chapter 2 #it movie #commission #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #the wedding date #crossover

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angsty-aliens · 4 years

Text

Truck Stop Knives And Other Accessories of Childhood (2/3)

Thank you a million times to @jocarthage @foramomentonly and @haloud for the beta and brainstorming.

Here is part 2 of what I’ve been calling my “feral stabby baby” fic. Alien tech manifests an inner child for Michael. And that inner child has a knife. You can find part one on Ao3. (CW: discussions of child abuse)

***

Alex’s cabin was a solid half hour out of city limits. Close enough to not be too much of a hassle, but far enough away to not have neighbors. It’d been a while since Michael had been alone with Alex and he tried not to let that nervousness show as he parked.

Things were good. He and Maria broke up amicably. Michael was good at pushing people away. It was a carefully cultivated skill set and eventually even though he tried to be good, it wasn’t fair to Maria. He was a mess and she deserved someone better than him. And throughout all of it, Michael and Alex tried to maintain an alliance if not a friendship. Michael didn’t have friends. He didn’t know how to be one. Closest he had was Liz, and he figured she tolerated him because he was adjacent to Max.

The kid was giving him suspicious looks the longer they lingered in the dark outside the cabin. The lights were on. Alex was clearly home. They just had to knock.

Finally the kid rolled his eyes and kicked the door.

“Hey! You could have knocked!”

Mikey raised an eyebrow, “YOU could have knocked.”

Michael’s retort was cut short by the door opening. Alex. No matter what, seeing Alex made the knot between his shoulders ease. Even when they crashed into each other and pushed on each other’s bruises, Alex still felt like home.

Alex may have been texted the sit-rep for this little alien misadventure, but it was one thing to read his ex-boyfriend had manifested an eleven year old version of himself, and another to see it. To his credit, he only gawked for a second before gesturing them inside.

“So….”

“Uh, yeah. Alex this is me as an eleven year old. Inner Child, this is Alex.”

The kid gave him a look of disgust, “Don’t call me that.”

“Liz was calling him Mikey.” Michael said.

Alex held out a hand to shake, “Michael Guerin, I’m Alex Manes. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

It took an elbow from Michael, but Mikey accepted the hand and gave his best adult impression as he shook it. “So, what happened to your leg?”

Michael’s jaw dropped, “you can’t just ask someone what happened to their leg! What’s wrong with you?!”

“What? He stands weird.”

Alex coughed, “it’s fine. Kids are curious.” He pulled up the hem of his pants to expose the metal prosthetic, “I’m in the Air Force and I lost my leg in combat.”

The kid crouched down to take a closer look and ordered, “I want to see where it connects. Show me how it stays on.”

Michael mumbled an apology, grabbed the back of the kid’s hoodie and marched him into the kitchen.

“You’re not being curious, you’re being an asshole. Stop it.”

The kid exploded in sudden anger and hissed, “YOU brought me to the house of someone in the military! Do you WANT us to be cut open?”

“He knows about aliens. He’s a good guy. No one’s getting vivisected. He’s on our side.”

The little boy threw his hands up in revulsion, “Does EVERYONE in this shitty little town know about aliens?”

“Max resurrected Liz. Apparently once you bring someone back from the dead, the secret gets out. But the people who know are Team Extraterrestrial. No one’s gonna blab to the government. We… trust them.”

Mikey sneered, “Do you?”

“Okay, Max and Isobel trust them. I trust Alex. We can trust Alex.”

“I can’t believe I grew up to be a dipshit.”

“I can’t believe I was such a little prick!”

Alex knocked at the door frame to get their attention, “you guys aren’t exactly being subtle… or quiet. Instead of yelling at each other, do you want dinner? It’s almost 7pm. I can order pizza, or I’ve got some frozen dinners we can microwave.”

The Guerins stood in the kitchen still glaring at each other.

Michael’s jaw clenched, but he broke the silent warfare, “we ate at 4 but we could probably eat again. I can also cook if you want.”

Alex opened an empty cabinet, “If by cook you mean heat up a can of soup, sure. But there’s not really anything else to cook here. I haven’t stocked up on groceries in awhile. I’ve got some microwave oatmeal packets for breakfast so no one’s going to starve to death, but we’re not gonna get a Leave It To Beaver dinner out of this kitchen.”

The kid gave a calculated look between the two men before asking, “are you fucking each other? Are we gay?”

Michael sucked in air through his teeth before stalking angrily away from the kid who was swaying on his feet in anticipation. “Alex, I’m sorry. I don’t know why he’s being like this. I shouldn’t have brought him and bothered you. We can go back to the airstream.”

Alex explained gently, “He’s poking the bear. He wants to see what’ll happen. You STILL do this so it’s not surprising you do it as a kid too.”

Michael turned back to the kid with a considering gaze, “do you want to see if I’ll hit you or if Alex will?”

Kid shrugged, “It’s Saturday. Doesn’t really matter which of you does it.”

Michael exhaled suddenly like he’d been punched in the stomach, “It’s Saturday. I can’t believe I forgot about this.”

Alex looked between the two Guerins. Michael scrubbed his face angrily. The little boy held himself completely still. Alex waited for an explanation. Michael leaned against a countertop and carefully looked at a spot on the wall. Looking anywhere but at Alex or Mikey.

It took him a minute to speak. This was hard.

“On Saturdays the religious freaks would line us all up and paddle the crap out of us. Didn’t matter how good we were. On Saturday you were getting your licks. They said it was to cover all the sins we did during the week that they didn’t catch. Because they’d whack you if they thought you were doing something wrong. But on Saturdays no matter what, no matter how good you tried to be, you were getting it. They said it was…”

The boy calmly stated, “Taking your medicine.”

“Yeah that’s right. Taking your medicine.” His jaw twitched, “Like they had to beat all the bad stuff out so on church Sunday we could be good again. We could absorb the lessons. And the man in charge of the home said children listen better on sore bottoms.” Michaels’ face twisted up, “That fucker.”

Mikey looked uneasy. Michael took a steadying breath and forced himself to remain calm, “We don’t do that here. No one’s gonna hit you here. I might yell. But no one will hit you no matter what a little shit you are. I’ll explode anyone who tries with my brain.”

The kid stared at them both, silently making calculations before nodding once. “I want pizza.”

Alex made mental plans to find out the names of these fundamentalists and completely ruin them online.

***

The call for pizza had been made, and Alex awkwardly watched the two Michaels sit on the floor methodically taking his toaster apart. He tried to insist it wasn’t broken, but Michael just made meaningful eye contact and repeated, “let us fix it.”

So now the toaster was in pieces, scattered across the hardwood floor. Alex had to admit this was the calmest he’d seen the boy. Having a task seemed good for him. And two Michaels were actually getting along, passing a phillips head screwdriver back and forth. If he had to buy a new toaster, it’d be worth it for this momentary peace.

The pizza wouldn’t arrive for a while yet, the downside of living in the boonies. His cabin did have a washing machine though, and unless Isobel made good time, she probably wouldn’t have new clothes for the kid until tomorrow.

Alex cleared his throat to get their attention, “I have a load of laundry I was going to start, and I can stick you stuff in there too Mikey. That way you have clean clothing for tomorrow. If you want you can take a shower and I can try to find you pajamas. Dinner should be here by the time you get out.”

The boy protested, “but the toaster…”

Michael began to pick up the mess, “the toaster will still be here. This isn’t a time sensitive project. No one will be in trouble if it doesn’t get fixed tonight. Clean clothes probably isn’t a bad idea. I’ve got a couple shirts that could use a wash too.”

He pulled the kid to his feet, and steered him towards the bathroom. “Alex has good water pressure and the tank is huge. Hot water for days!”

With the two house guests preoccupied, Alex started to gather clothing to wash. It was just an excuse and Michael knew it, but maybe it’d make the boy feel less awkward if he thought everyone had laundry to do. He heard the shower start and Michael exited the bathroom with an armful of clothing. The challenge was going to be finding the boy something to wear while his clothing was being cleaned. A tshirt would hang like a dress on him and preserve his modesty, but Alex doubted he had any sleep shorts with a drawstring tight enough to stay up on a child.

The two men began to load the washing machine. Michael added a couple shirts from his backpack. Alex didn’t know if they actually needed to be washed or if Michael was just trying to keep the kid from feeling weird.

“You okay?” Alex asked.

Michael dug through the kids pockets quickly and removed four quarters, a shiny rock, and a plastic bag with two pancakes inside. Deeming the clothing now safe, he crammed it in the washing machine. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“Because you’re suddenly the guardian of a very angry eleven year old version of yourself who manifested from alien technology we don’t understand yet?”

Michael laughed, “yeah when you put it that way… today is a lot. Thanks for letting us crash here. We would have killed each other in my airstream. At least you’ve got a couch the kid can sleep on. I’ll take the floor.”

“What? No, you’re not sleeping on the floor.” Alex’s forehead furrowed, “You can… look my bed is big enough. We’re adults.”

“I don’t want this to be weird for you.”

“Then don’t make it weird.”

And with that statement Alex walked back to his bedroom to find the boy something to wear. When Michael followed him, he handed him an oversized air force shirt, and a towel.

Michael sheepishly handed the shirt back, “Maybe something that doesn’t have a military logo on it? Kid isn’t a huge fan of Uncle Sam.”

Another rummage through his drawers, and Alex a plain black shirt. It wasn’t quite as big as the Air Force shirt, but it was still an oversized shirt Alex used to sleep in. It should be long enough for the boy.

Michael gratefully took the items and knocked on the bathroom door in warning before leaving the towel and shirt inside.

Sure enough by the time the pizza arrived, Mikey was done with his shower and standing in the living room shifting from foot to foot. Alex knew he was eleven, but he looked smaller engulfed in his shirt. It made his heart feel tight to see Michael Guerin’s face on a child wearing his clothing. Like he’d crush anyone who ever hurt this kid.

The boy attacked the pizza, and Alex spotted a thin red mark on his thigh, peeking out from the edge of the shirt. Alex was familiar with marks like that, but his marks were always wider. Belts tended to linger. Michael Guerin was carefully avoiding his eyes, as he reached around the kid to grab his own slice. When he finally managed to catch his gaze, Michael just shrugged as if to say “shit happens.”

Alex knew that. And he knew better than to mention it to the kid. It was no secret that he and Guerin connected over shared trauma. It just felt like a punch in the gut to see evidence of a beating on a kid. It was surprising Michael wasn’t triggered to hell being confronted with his worse childhood memories in technicolor.

Alex carefully peeled his own piece of pizza off the cardboard so they could all pretend this was perfectly normal.

***

Michael could hear the thump of clothing in the dryer as he made Alex’s couch up for bedtime. He carefully tucked a sheet around the old seat cushions and layered some homemade quilts on top. The overall effect was very homey, if a little ill-matched.

The kid was still wearing Alex’s shirt like a dress and that red mark was impossible to ignore. When Michael buried his head in the closet to look for an extra pillow, Michael casually asked “do you need some neosporin?”

Mikey was still poking at the disassembled toaster, “for what?”

Michael carefully kept his voice calm and disinterested, “The switch marks. Anything bleeding?”

“Nah. Her aim just sucks. Or maybe she did it on purpose. It’s a new placement. She got my back and my legs, not just my butt.” Mikey hesitated, “Did she do it on purpose?”

Michael couldn’t pretend to fluff pillows in a closet forever. He turned around and swallowed hard, “Yeah. She really liked smacking my legs. Aimed for the lower thighs a lot, where it really hurts and where it’s hard to cover. I got in trouble in PE a lot for not wearing my gym shorts.” Michael ran a lot of miles around the track in jeans, but it was worth it to not have those marks visible to Max and Isobel. They didn’t need to know. And he wasn’t willing to risk being moved out of Roswell if a grown up figured things out.

The kid didn’t seem surprised, “How long do we stay with them?”

“Three years. We get moved after our fourteenth birthday. Single family placement instead of a group home. It was better.”

His foster dad kicked the shit out of him, but anything was better than being exorcised. Kid didn’t need to know that. “And when we’re fourteen, we meet Sanders. He’s an old dude who owns a junkyard. He teaches us to fix cars, and lets us crash on his couch sometimes. That’s where I work now. I can fix anything. We can fix anything.”

That felt important, but Michael didn’t want to make it awkward so he peeled back the covers so the kid could tuck himself inside.

“How did you know Alex was missing a leg? He doesn’t stand funny.”

The kid shrugged, “he had a fancy crutch leaning against the fireplace. Those mean there’s something really wrong. I just guessed his leg was messed up. I didn’t know it got blown up.”

Michael sighed, “Can you lay off of bugging him about it? He’s doing us a favor.”

“Yeah.” Mikey thought for a second, and then continued, “I really AM curious about the leg though. I wasn’t JUST being an asshole. I really do want to see how it all connects.”

Michael rubbed his forehead, “maybe he’ll show you later, just… can you relax with messing with him? He’s not gonna get mad and hit you. I’ve pissed him off as a grown up, and he never hit me, he’s definitely not gonna touch you.

The kid shrugged noncommittally.

“By the way, we’re bisexual.”

“What?”

Michael repeated, “You asked earlier if we were gay. We’re bisexual.”

“Huh.”

“Don’t act surprised. We had a crush on Taymon Johnson in fifth grade.”

The kid protested, “No we didn’t! He was just cool!”

Michael raised an eyebrow.

“Oh.” The boy looked like he was reassessing every hero he ever had.

“Yeah. Oh. And yes, Alex and I had a thing, but we’re just friends now and it’d be awesome if you’d cut out the ‘are you fucking’ line of questioning.”

The kid smirked, “Aren’t you about to go have a bisexual slumber party with him?”

Michael narrowed his eyes, “Yeah, a totally platonic slumber party. We’re friends now.”

The kid raised an eyebrow.

“Shut up.” Michael rolled his eyes and pulled the quilt up around the boy’s chin. People never tucked in kids like Michael Guerin. Not foster parents anyway. Sometimes if he got to go to a slumber party at a classmate’s house, a well meaning mom would also tuck him in. Once a mom kissed his forehead before she shut off the lights. He didn’t know that was a real thing that happened sometimes. Michael always assumed it was just in movies. He felt stupid when he realized it was real, it just wasn’t for kids like him.

With his stomach twisting up at that memory, Michael dug in his pocket and pulled out the switchblade he took from the kid that afternoon. “I’m giving you this back because I’m trusting you not to stab anyone, and I know you’ll sleep better if you have it. And I know you’re gonna want to go to Foster’s Ranch.” The kid opened his

mouth and Michael cut him off, “I KNOW. But the military bought it, and the last thing we need is an alien hanging out on top secret government property. Plus the hitchhiking didn’t always work out well for us. So let’s just not, okay?”

The kid clutched the knife and begrudgingly nodded.

“Go to sleep. We’ll figure out the rest of this tomorrow.”

***

Michael closed the door to the bedroom behind him. “Kid is in bed. Doubt he’ll sleep much tonight, but at least I’ve got him all tucked in.”

Alex was making puzzled faces at his laptop. “I keep looking at the glyphs on your disk. I don’t recognize most of them and we translated ‘child, memory, temporary’ but there are more glyphs on the back.” He squinted, “This may say ‘permanent.’ Guerin, I don’t know how this disk works. I don’t know what you did.”

Alex scrubbed at his hair, frustrated. With a sharp exhale, he closed the laptop and tucked it away. Michael watched Alex slip into bed and swallowed hard, “I can still sleep on the floor if you want. I’m used to it.”

“We can share. It’s fine.”

Michael tried one more time, “I could go sleep in your creepy murder bunker. That’s an extra bedroom.”

Alex raised an eyebrow, “Do you WANT to sleep in the creepy murder bunker?”

“No. It’s a creepy murder bunker.”

“Okay, so stop being weird about this and come to bed. I promise I won’t cuddle you in your sleep.”

Michael muttered under his breath, “I wish.”

He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off his boots. He unbuckled his belt and reached for the button of his jeans when he suddenly stopped. The words burst out of him, “I should have figured out the stupid Saturday thing earlier. I was in that group home for three years.” Michael turned to face Alex, “I didn’t stop getting weird about Saturdays until senior year when I lived in the truck.”

Alex watched him from his side of the bed, face still pressed against his pillow. “My dad played mind games like that too. He liked creating obstacle courses for me and my brothers. Last one to finish got his ass kicked by my dad. I’m two years younger than Flint. Unless one of my brothers was incapacitated, I was always the one who lost. Every time they had us run a course in basic training, it was like I could see my dad waiting at the finish line with his thumbs stuck in his belt.”

Alex paused, “maybe it’s good. Having Mikey here. Maybe it’s time to work through some of this stuff.”

“You sound like Isobel.” Michael shucked his pants off, and pulled his shirt over his head in one practiced move. His clothing sat in a rejected pile on the floor and he slid under the covers, Alex’s knees almost touching his thigh.

“Is she wrong? Neither one of us talk about it. We just pretend everything is fine.”

Michael turned on his side to face Alex with a huff, “Everything IS fine!”

“If everything was fine, we would have kept dating after high school and we’d probably have a dog by now. Instead I became a runner, and you like to self-destruct.”

They were silent a minute. Michael admitted, “I didn’t self-destruct after high school because of you. There were other things. You were one of the only good things in my life.”

“I know.” Alex touched Michael’s hand, rubbing a thumb across his knuckles. “You were a good thing in my life too.”

Michael closed his eyes so he wouldn’t see how his next statement landed, “you still are. You still are a good thing.”

Alex pushed his head forward so their foreheads touched on the pillows. “You are my good thing too.”

Michael exhaled, “What are we doing?”

“What do you want to do?”

“I want you to stop answering a question with another question.”

Alex tilted his face and lightly pressed his lips to Michael’s. “Is this okay?”

Michael answered by cupping Alex’s cheek and pulling him in for a deeper kiss. It had been too long since someone touched him this way. Too long since Alex touched him this way. They were hungry for each other. Knees knocked together awkwardly under the covers as they tried to press their chests flush to each other, wanting as much skin touching as possible. Finally feeling like they could both breathe.

Michael wormed his arm underneath Alex so he could pull him closer. He keened as Alex threaded a hand through his curls and tugged just slightly. Michael’s hand drifted down Alex’s cheek, stroking his shoulder, then disappearing beneath the covers. His fingers stroked down Alex’s stomach, and dipped just under the waistband of his boxer briefs.

Alex pulled back with a gasp, “wait.”

The hand retreated immediately.

“No I want to. I want to. It’s just…” Alex panted against Michael’s lips, “I don’t want to screw this up. We’re really really good at the sex parts, and not so great at the communication parts. So maybe we should…”

“Focus on communication?” Michael asked.

Alex kissed him lightly, “Yeah. Yeah, I don’t want to pause but… I don’t want to fall into old patterns. I want to build something new with you. Something stronger. Plus there’s an eleven year old sleeping on the couch twenty feet away.”

Michael returned his hand to Alex’s cheek. “Is this okay? Hands above the waist at all times?”

Alex smiled with his lips still pressed to Michaels, “Yeah. That’s good. Let’s do that for awhile.”

Michael could feel Alex’s heartbeat thump against his chest. He could feel the swell of Alex’s belly with each inhale, his skin sliding against his own as they breathed in unison. He sent a trinkle of power to turn off the lights, and tugged Alex tight against him. Michael’s nose nuzzled down into the dip of his shoulder, rubbing his face into the curve and breathing deeply. His whole world smelled like Alex, and it felt right. He could feel Alex sigh against his hair, and his hand massaging the back of his neck, occasionally venturing up to play in his curls. And Michael let himself close his eyes and drift off to sleep.

***

Michael woke up suddenly. There was a new connection in his head that he hadn’t noticed. The places where he could sometimes sense Max and Isobel were muted after decades of practice. That connection had atrophied and he never tried to repair it. But now there was a sudden feeling of distress that could only be coming from Mikey.

He slipped from the bed, pulled on a shirt to go with his boxer briefs, and with bare feet, padded his way to the living room. The kid was sitting up, hugging himself with fists twisted around the loose material of his nightshirt, and breathing shakily.

Michael crouched next to the couch, “Bad dream?”

The kid didn’t even look at him. He just shrugged and tried to calm his breathing.

“Can I touch you? Or no?”

Mikey took a second, then nodded. Michael sat behind him and rubbed his hands down the kid’s trembling arms, like he was trying to warm him up. Michael remembered nightmares like this. Where he woke up not sure what feelings were real and what feelings were memories. Phantom pains lingering from his nightmares, that could only be soothed away by proving it was just a dream. His body was safe. He was okay.

The kid took a deep breath, then another. His hands unlocked from his sides and he leaned his back against Michael’s side. Michael let his arm rest heavily against the boy’s chest, like a seat belt grounding him to this world.

“Better?”

Mikey nodded and let his head thunk back against Michael’s shoulder. During the day he’d never allow this comfort, but in the dark, after a nightmare, he needed it even though he’d never admit it. Facing away from his older self, he had the courage to admit, “Nightmare. They were hurting me. … And they had Max and Isobel.”

“Those are the worst. I hate the dreams where I’m being hurt, but if Max and Isobel are there too…” Michael exhaled sharply, “Do you want to call them? So you know they’re safe? They won’t care if we wake them up.”

Michael would never call his siblings over a bad dream, but he knew in his bones they’d never mind a phone call from the kid. It felt okay to offer this to the kid.

“I don’t even LIKE Max or Isobel.”

“Yeah, I don’t always like them either. But they’re still mine. They’re still family. And the idea of someone hurting them makes me want to set the world on fire.”

They sat on the couch in silence. Mikey would never ask for a hug, and Michael wouldn’t volunteer one. But with the boy leaning against him, and his arm slung around him, it felt like a hug. They both felt settled. Like their bodies weren’t being flung into a nebulous nightmare void where everything bad could and would happen. They both felt real. They were on Alex’s couch, in Alex’s living room, in Alex’s cabin. They were safe.

#inner child fic #my fic #roswell new mexico fic #rnm fic #truck stop knives and other childhood accessories #michael guerin fic #michael guerin #alex manes #malex fic #feral stabby baby #cw child abuse #tw child abuse

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lake-arrius-caverns · 3 years

Text

Prologue - pt 3

content warnings strong language

ik im a bit late with this one, writers block got me hard 😔

next coming hopefully Sunday? lol

read under the cut or on AO3, cheers 👍

:: First :: || << Previous << || >> Next >> || :: Masterpost ::

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Fahjoth’s mood was as dull as the weather as he hastily returned to the Waterfront, completely drenched from head to toe as a result of the sudden onslaught of rain that showed no sign of letting up anytime soon. Typical of the skies to open up while he was wandering around the Market District of the city, strolling around while trying to work through the muddled thoughts circling in his head. He had been in a dour mood when he embarked, and now it was even worse on his return.

He should have seen it coming, he reflected ruefully; the thick blanket of heavy, dark cloud overhead had not shifted since it first settled in that morning. There was bound to have been a downpour sooner or later. But Fahjoth had to get away from the Waterfront for a while, to go somewhere where he could be alone with his thoughts. And there was plenty to think about.

They should be hearing from Shadra soon enough, bringing news from the cult currently spending far too much time in the city. The problems were already apparent - within hours of their arrival, the guard patrols had increased and even the most mellow of innkeepers and traders were on edge. And yet, Fahjoth wasn’t confident that a direct confrontation would go at all as well as Cassius seemed to anticipate.

Fahjoth felt another flicker of bitterness in his chest. Cassius, in all his unrelenting stubbornness, had refused to listen to Fahjoth’s attempts to reason with him. It wasn’t the first time, but now, when it came to such an unpredictable affair, he was frustrated that Cassius had declined to even consider listening to him. Not only was it infuriating, but it was slightly hurtful as well.

So he had taken a walk in an effort to clear his mind and relax; perhaps stop by the docks on the way back and watch the boats drifting back and forth, as he and Ribyna had done with Abik so often growing up. But his plans were spoiled as he got caught in the lashing rain, ending up soaked to the skin and in an even worse mood than before. It was with some slight relief that he reached the Waterfront again, immediately spotting a welcome sight; a large tent comprised of leather and linen sheets, under which a handful of people and a dog sat. Even through the rain-haze, it was easy to identify Ribyna, Merrick and Abik, and Fahjoth didn’t hesitate to approach, immediately ducking under the shelter to join them.

“Alright, lads?” he said by way of greeting, roughly shaking his head like a wet dog and allowing a shower of droplets to come flying from his shaggy black hair. Ribyna groaned in annoyance, leaning over to protect the piece of parchment that she and Merrick were holding.

“For fuck’s sake, Fahjoth, you’re gonna ruin our map!” she complained, staring at him reproachfully. “Where’ve you been, anyway?”

“Just for a walk,” Fahjoth replied, slightly unwilling to go into detail. He managed a smile as

Pip came shuffling over to greet him, wagging her tail and poking her nose into Fahjoth’s face as she lathered her tongue over his nose. With a humorous grimace, he playfully pushed her away until she lay back down and then turned his attention back to his twin and the others. “What’ve you been up to?”

“Me and Merrick have been reading this map,” Ribyna said, puffing her chest out with pride. “I can pronounce Fana... Fanasces...” She stopped and grimaced. “Well, I could five minutes ago! I’ve forgotten now.”

“Never mind the Ayleid ruins,” Merrick interjected with a smile. “She can spell Cheydinhal now! Without needing to look.”

“Yeah!” Ribyna agreed, beaming. “See, I am getting better.” When Fahjoth didn’t offer much of a response, Ribyna reached out and prodded his shoulder. “Come on. What’s the matter?”

Again, Fahjoth didn’t respond immediately. He simply sat in silence, absently ruffling Pip’s ears and listening to the muffled crackling of the raindrops hitting the sheets overhead. “It’s just... I haven’t spoken to Cassius since... well, since we argued. I’m kind of worried about what’s gonna happen with this cult. If they don’t agree to piss off, and we do end up going to ‘deal with them’... well, I told him it could be dangerous, but he won’t even listen to me!” He winced as he heard the frustration seeping into his voice during his rant. “He never listens to me. Normally it’s fine, y’know, I can deal with it, but... this? It’s like he always knows best, even when we’ve got no idea what we could be up against. How can he possibly know for sure?”

His three companions remained silent and attentive while Fahjoth ranted, and once he was done he felt his cheeks flush warm with embarrassment. But then Abik spoke up in his usual calm, reassuring tone.

“For what it’s worth, I agree with you,” he said. “I do think we need to be more careful. A lot of people seem to agree with Cassius though. They’re gonna go along with whatever he suggests. So I reckon the only thing we can do is be there for them, whatever happens.” His dark brown eyes were pensive as he continued. “From what I’ve heard from Vyk, right now, we’ve got the advantage over them in numbers. The worst thing we could do as a group is fracture and split up.”

“Plus, it might not even come to that,” Merrick piped up, ever hopeful. “They might just leave without making a fuss. I don’t think it’s helpful to worry about something when we don’t even know what’s going to happen yet.”

Ribyna nodded enthusiastically in agreement, and Fahjoth dipped his head to the three, admittedly beginning to feel reassured. “Yeah... I suppose,” he said cautiously. “It’s just hard not to, y’know?”

“Of course. But, Fahjoth...” Abik added. “You should talk to Cassius about this too. Tell him how you feel. Communication is important.” His expression became momentarily grave. “Not to mention... if the worst does happen, you’d never forgive yourself if you two didn’t make amends. Trust me.”

Fahjoth inhaled, knowing full well that Abik was right. “Yeah... I’ll- I’ll find him later. ... I will!” he insisted, raising his palms up defensively on seeing Abik give him a knowing look. Abik merely chuckled.

“Good. I don’t like it when you kids argue,” he sighed. “We’ve got to stick together and look out for each other out here, ‘cause Talos knows no-one else will.”

“Kids?” Ribyna questioned. “We’re not that young!”

“Compared to me, you might as well be,” Abik chortled. “I’ve been here long enough that I’ve raised half of the people here. Including you lot. It’s like a family - a dysfunctional family, but a family still.”

“You can’t spell dysfunctional without fun,” Merrick chimed in, and Abik pointed at him emphatically.

“Merrick’s got it. Anyway, bottom line is, you’re all basically my kids. So for gods’ sakes, can you all just get along? That‘d be great.”

Ribyna snorted with laughter. “Hah! What, d’you want us to start calling you dad now? ‘Cause we will! Soppy old git.”

Abik laughed, though he didn’t rise to the teasing. Instead he focused on Fahjoth again. “Still worried, mate?”

Though the discussion had been a welcome distraction, Fahjoth found his mind wandering back to the troubles at hand yet again. “Yeah,” he admitted.

Before Abik could respond, Ribyna had risen to her feet. “Come on then!” she declared, loping out of the shelter and standing in the sodden grass, beckoning Fahjoth to join her. “Let’s have a match. Get some practise in for when we go to war!”

“What, now?” Fahjoth replied incredulously. “In the rain?”

“Where else?” Ribyna shot back, splaying her arms out tauntingly and raising her voice over the endless lashing of the rain against the saturated ground. “Run at me, bro!”

Dumbfounded for a moment, Fahjoth hesitated. Then, he shrugged and bounced to his feet, darting out into the torrential downpour and squaring up his twin. “Alright, come on then!” he called. As Ribyna whipped out a dagger, Fahjoth did the same; the goal wasn’t to injure, of course, but any practise would be useful.

“Just be careful, you two!” Abik warned, as he and Merrick watched with interest. “Try not to take any eyes out.”

Fahjoth and Ribyna began to prowl around each other, each holding back and waiting for the other to make a move. Eventually, Ribyna leapt forward and lunged out at her sibling’s shoulder with the flat side of the blade, which Fahjoth narrowly avoided by stumbling back with haste. He almost lost his footing on the damp grass, feeling his gut lurch as he suddenly slipped, but with a vigorous windmilling of his arms he was able to regain his balance. His recovery didn’t come fast enough, however, as Ribyna took her chance and jumped forward again with another mock whack of her dagger. Fahjoth grimaced as he felt the weapon connect with his ribs with a soft thud, and still wasn’t quick enough to block it with his own. Ribyna’s victorious smirk was both amusing and annoying.

“Got you!” she taunted, twirling the blade in her fingers. “If this was a real fight, you’d be so dead.”

“Ah come on, I slipped!” Fahjoth protested, remaining on guard in case Ribyna attacked again. Sure enough, she didn’t hesitate.

“Yeah? Well, slip on this!”

This time, Fahjoth was expecting it. Keeping his stance firm and balanced, he was quick to retaliate - Ribyna’s dagger came sailing past his face as he sidestepped to avoid it, throwing up his own arm to knock Ribyna off-balance. However, a terrible error in judgement resulted in his bunched fist connecting sharply with Ribyna’s face.

After the second it took to process what had just happened, Fahjoth gasped and immediately retreated, dropping his dagger and bringing his hands up to his face in horror. “Oh fuck Beebs, I’m sorry-!” He blabbed his apologies as Ribyna stood there in mute shock, watching her own blood flowing from her nose and peppering the sodden grass underfoot, mixing with the raindrops and forming watery maroon stains which lay stark against the greenery.

“I told you both to be careful,” Abik groaned. He and Merrick both rose to check on Ribyna, as Fahjoth took a few cautious steps forward himself, but before anyone had a chance to speak, Ribyna pounced. She threw her full body weight into Fahjoth, tackling him to the ground and somehow managing to secure him into a tight headlock before he could even react.

“Right, that’s it! You’re getting it now!”

“Ribyna-!”

Though it was a relief to know that Ribyna was relatively alright, Fahjoth still wasn’t too keen for a wrestling match at that moment - especially not in the pouring rain over muddy, sludgy ground. But he took the challenge and gave it his best, reluctant to be bested by his twin. Unfortunately, try as he might to free himself, Ribyna wasn’t showing any sign of letting Fahjoth escape; to exacerbate matters, their antics had attracted Pip’s attention, who came bounding over to them with excited barks. Tail flailing from side to side, she lunged at Fahjoth, once again licking his face as she joined the fray.

“Say you surrender!” she jeered, grinning wickedly as she held her brother tightly in an unforgiving chokehold.

“Gerroff! You’re getting blood all over me!” Fahjoth exclaimed, wrinkling his nose in disgust despite laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. Eventually though, he figured it would be better to give in. “Alright, alright! I surrender! Now for fuck’s sake, get off-!”

At last, Ribyna accepted his yield and she let Fahjoth go, snickering as she returned to the tent and attempted to wipe the blood from her face. Fahjoth trooped in after her once he managed to calm Pip down again, soaking wet and covered in mud from the rain, while Merrick was on hand to offer Ribyna a handkerchief for her nose.

“Right, well, have you two gotten that out of your systems?” Abik asked, brow raised as he appraised the twins with a mock stern expression, and the both of them grinned back sheepishly.

“Yup. That was fun,” Ribyna said, holding the handkerchief to her nose. Abik scoffed and shook his head in response, while Merrick gently held Ribyna’s face with one hand and raised the other to her nose.

“I think we’ve got different definitions of ‘fun’, Beebs,” he remarked, a warm golden glow beginning to radiate from his palm. Ribyna sat still and allowed herself to be healed, grinning all the while.

“At least we know I can kick Fahjoth’s arse, whatever the weather” she drawled, and Fahjoth snorted derisively.

“Says the one who’s covered in their own blood!” he retorted, unable to contain a laugh. Abik rolled his eyes and tossed Fahjoth over a clean scrap of linen, and the four of them winced as Pip entered the shelter and shook off her thick grey fur, covering them all in flecks of dirty water.

“Get yourself cleaned up too, Fahjoth. Don’t want you dripping muck all over the place.”

Fahjoth obliged, gazing around the shelter in admiration as he stopped to really take it in. “How’d you keep it so dry in here, anyway? I thought it’d be soaked through by now in this weather.”

“Oh, that’s just Merrick being a genius,” Ribyna answered him proudly. “He used a water walking spell on the top. It’s keeping the water right off!”

Merrick blushed, dismissing the praise with a wave of his hand. “It was quite simple. Not a big deal at all, really.”

“You say that, but magic is hard! Me and Ribyna can barely manage a flame spell between us,” Fahjoth laughed. Ribyna, however, appeared inspired.

“After this cult bullshit is done with, can you teach me some spells?” she asked, gingerly tapping her nose as Merrick finished up his healing magic. He paused, seemingly surprised before he nodded with enthusiasm.

“Yeah, course I can! What d’you want to learn the most?”

“Everything!” Ribyna gushed. “Healing, fireballs, invisibility- oh, and levitation! Imagine being able to just fly whenever you want!”

Merrick responded with a wry grin. “Even if I knew levitation magic, I couldn’t teach it to you. Didn’t you know? They banned it earlier this year.”

Ribyna’s face fell at the news. “What?!” she exclaimed, not bothering to hide her disappointment. “Seriously? That’s bullshit!”

Merrick shrugged with a sympathetic smile. “I know, it’s a shame. I wouldn’t have minded learning it myself.”

“Maybe it’s for the best. I think I’d shit myself if I saw Ribyna suddenly flying towards me in midair,” Fahjoth commented, laughing as Ribyna pouted and gave him the middle finger in response. However, Fahjoth’s attention was suddenly grabbed by the arrival of a blonde Imperial to the Waterfront, and he bit his lip with trepidation while considering his options. A knowing look from Abik settled his resolve, and Fahjoth stood up once more. “Hey lads, I’m just gonna...” He gestured vaguely towards the newcomer, and his companions nodded in understanding.

“Good luck!” Merrick said, giving Fahjoth a thumbs up.

“If he upsets you again, come tell me and I’ll beat him up!” Ribyna added, and Fahjoth snorted.

“Yeah, I believe you! I’ll let you know,” Fahjoth joked, flashing them all a grin before taking a deep breath and stepping out into the downpour once more. Jogging slightly to catch up with the Imperial, Fahjoth raised his voice. “Cassius!”

Cassius stopped, squinting against the rain as Fahjoth hastened to catch up with him. The awkward air between them was more than tangible, and Fahjoth was for a moment lost for words. “Can we talk-?” he started, only to shut his mouth instantly as Cassius spoke.

“Look, Fahjoth, I’ve been thinking, and I... I need to apologise,” he said, his expression remorseful. “I shouldn’t have just... dismissed your worries like that.”

“Oh...” Rather stunned by the quick turnaround, Fahjoth managed a weak smile. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“You know what I’m like. I can be such a dick sometimes.” Cassius shot Fahjoth a grateful smile, offering out his hand which he took without hesitation. “Are we okay?”

“Yeah, course we are,” Fahjoth replied, feeling an overwhelming sense of contentment and relief as he gave Cassius’ hand an affectionate squeeze. “Has there been any news yet?”

“Not yet, but I can’t see Shadra being much longer. She should be back... any time now, really.” Cassius turned his gaze out towards Lake Rumare, softly intertwining his fingers with Fahjoth’s. “You’re not still worrying, are you? ‘Cause I promise, I wouldn’t have challenged them if I thought there was any real danger.”

Deep down, Fahjoth did indeed still have his misgivings, but he decided to hide them for the sake of avoiding confrontation. Instead, he shook his head. “I’m fine. I was talking to Abik and Merrick as well, and... well, I feel a bit better.”

“Oh yeah? Gossiping about me, were you?” Cassius teased, and Fahjoth playfully knocked his shoulder against his.

“Not everything’s about you, y’know!”

“Hm, I dunno. That sounds fake,” Cassius laughed, only to pause and look around as another voice suddenly called for him, loud and clear despite the incessant rain and soft rumbling of thunder in the distance.

“Cassius.”

Instantly, Fahjoth’s worries returned and amplified tenfold as Shadra approached them. The look on her face was enough to tell them everything, but Cassius inquired anyway.

“What’s the verdict?”

Shadra paused to take a deep breath, before making the grim announcement Fahjoth had been dreading.

“They didn’t take the bait. They’re meeting us here at dawn. Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Cassius frowned, suddenly looking concerned. Evidently he hadn’t been expecting such a development so soon. “Alright... cheers, Shadra. Let everyone you can know... I still don’t think it’ll come to anything, but we need to make sure we’re all armed as well.”

“On it,” Shadra replied, dipping her head towards them both before departing once more. Cassius turned to Fahjoth, trying to look reassuring but failing to completely conceal his grim expression.

“It’ll be fine, Fahjoth. Try not to worry, alright?”

He leaned in close to leave a soft kiss on Fahjoth’s lips, before excusing himself and walking off into the haze. Fahjoth watched him go, then glanced over to the makeshift shelter, where three pairs of inquisitive eyes stared back. Fahjoth heaved a sigh. He was well and truly soaked by now under the lashing rain, but somehow he no longer cared, and he frowned and rubbed his brow with unease.

“Gods, I wish I had your confidence...”

#oc: fahjoth #oc: ribyna #tes #tes fic #morrowind #dunmer #dunmer oc #nerevarine #elder scrolls #elder scrolls fanfiction #tes iii: morrowind

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jeonchristineimnida · 4 years

Text

Jungkook - Forbidden Love pt. 2

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Masterlist

Genre: angst, sfw, au university students

Rating: PG13

Warning: N/A for this chapter iz a fluffly chapter :”)

Word count: 2657

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Chapter Summary: Jungkook lost the resolve to act on his feelings. He tried to avoid Y/N as he tries to keep his emotions in check but Y/N wasn’t having it. She gave him a piece of her mind.

Y/N POV

9PM in Y/N's room

The books are scattered on my desk, lampshade on and laptop's screen showing an empty word document, but I failed to start anything as my mind keeps going back to what happened awhile ago. I look at my hands, still feeling the warmth of how Jungkook held my fingertips as his eyes beg to be understood.

What is it, idiot? Why did you look at me like that?

I feel heat creep up to my cheeks. I shook my head and slapped myself, reaching out to my phone to text him.

Hey idiot, you up?

I placed down my phone, fooling myself to get on with writing my reports as I anxiously wait for his reply.

However, it never came.

He'd always reply to me 10 minutes the latest, but as it's now 4 AM and I finally managed to finish the 3 papers due for this morning. I try to shrug it off, getting 2 hours of sleep before I get ready for my first class at 7:30. I'll probably be running again later, but I need to sleep.

Stupid Jungkook.

What the heck was that look yesterday huh?

You holding my hand can be something we have always done in the past as kids, but pairing it with that look in your eyes just made my heart skip a ---- WAIT NO.

Idiot. You've been friends for this long.

Don't ruin it now, Y/N.

Forcing my eyes shut, I tried to drift into my needed-sleep.

1 week later

I wasn't having it anymore.

If he has a problem with me, why not just face me head on?

He's lucky I don't know where he lives, nor do I know his father personally because if I did, I would have showed up in his house announced and hit the crap out of him.

"Oh! It's Ms. Childhood Girlfriend!" A guy with a boxed smile points at me as he exits the business building. I tried to look away, minding my own business as I sat on the bench near their building. I didn’t want to assume that he was talking about me because as far as I'm concerned, I'm single.

"You're Y/N, right?" Another guy with the biggest eye smile said now in front of me with the boxed-smile guy beside him.

"Yeah? You are?" Confusion cannot be wiped from my face.

"I'm Taehyung. This is Jimin. We're Jungkook's friends." The boxed-smile guy introduced himself and the friend beside him before the two sat on either of my side.

"He isn't telling us about how it went so maybe you can fill us in?" The guy called Jimin leaned towards me, his smile radiating a loud 5-year-old innocence. Even before I could answer, the Taehyung guy had already started blabbing.

"I can't believe that Jungkook would call to ask me how to ask you out. I mean, with that face of his, shouldn't he be so used to girls now? Or perhaps, he really doesn't have any experience with girls. Are you his first girlfriend, Y/N?" He looked excited but my face was blank.

What.

He wanted to ask me out? Me? Y/N? He wanted me to be his girlfriend?

"Hey!" As soon as Jungkook spotted the three of us sitting in one bench, he quickly sprinted to where we were as he grabbed me by the hand, pulling me away from the two. "What the hell guys?"

"Wow, calm down dude. We ain't here to steal your girl. We just wanted some details cause you wouldn't spill." Jimin answered as they both had their hands up as if they got caught doing something wrong.

"Why are you mad?" Taehyung asks with one eyebrow raised.

If I didn't know any better, I'd ask the same question as Taehyung did.

But I know better. He wasn't mad. He worried -- no, panicked. What was he panicking about?

"We need to talk." I tugged on his hand, making him face me. "If you boys could excuse us for today, I'll need to have a serious talk with this idiot. Don't worry, I'll knock some sense into him. It was a pleasure meeting you though, Taehyung and Jimin. Let's hang some time soon." I smiled at them and they took their leave, waving at me and clapping Jungkook's shoulders.

I was now looking at Jungkook and as much as I want to get mad, seeing him made me want to apologize. He looked so worn out, like he's been having sleepless nights.

"Has it been rough? Classes and all?" I asked, pulling him down to sit beside me on the bench where Jimin and Taehyung once were.

"Kind of" He shrugged as he kept his eyes down.

I sighed, getting the file case he was holding and placing it inside my backpack. He simply looked at me as I continue to fix my stuff before I stood up, slinging my bag on my shoulder and pulling onto his hand.

"Follow me." I smiled, pulling onto his hand. As he reluctantly stood up, I started dragging him out of the campus into our favorite arcade in the district.

It only took a little resistance from him before he caved into his own competitiveness. A little provocation got him fired up to beat me in almost all of the games -- except the virtual shooting game.

"I'm winning!" Jungkook perked up when I got hit, loosing 1 of the 2 remaining lives while he still has all three. For the record though, this is the 3rd rematch and I'm letting him win. "Ah, no! Don't hit my y/n!" He shoots the villain aiming at me as we fight in co-op mode.

In an instant, I felt my cheeks warm up as I remember what Taehyung and Jimin told me before Jungkook popped out of no where.

"Feeling better?" I asked after I won the third game since he died within 30 seconds after facing off with the boss.

"Yeah" Jungkook smiled, showing off his dimples that I've always loved seeing. I poked the dent on his cheek, smiling along with him. "But I need to let off more steam." He says, catching my finger as he held it 'til he took both of our bags and led me out of the arcade.

Even without him saying, I already knew where we were going as he practically skipped going there.

"Do you see my bags, do you see my bags, it's hella trophies and it's hella thick!" Jungkook sang as I hyped him in the background.

"Yeah yeah yeah! Whatcha think bout that watcha think bout that" I sang along, jumping with him.

"I bet it made my haters hella sick!" We sang together, banging our heads to the air like metalheads in a concert.

We barely heard the knock from the staff that was delivering the food that we ordered. I was quick to abandon singing(?) as I charged straight for the mozzarella sticks, dipping it in some marina sauce before taking one to Jungkook. He took a second to bite but resumed singing afterwards as he jumped along with the beat.

I went back to the food, took my seat and just sat through Jungkook letting out whatever that was bothering him through singing these tiring songs. I mean, they're dope to dance to, and they're dope to sing to, but doing them both is hella tiring. You have to be legends to do that. (A/N *wink*)

After the song, Jungkook sat beside me, eating the last mozzarella stick that I was holding and then shooting me a look.

"We ordered 10 pcs. I only got 2 bites." He complained but I just shrugged and smiled. He chose a random song to have it as a background music, letting it play as we take some rest. He stuffed what else was left, claiming that he paid too so he needs to eat before I finish everything. I laughed and let him.

"I missed you, idiot. Why were you avoiding me?" I now say, catching his attention. His eyes shows that he understands it was a serious question, but his stuffed mouth just made me chuckle as I took a napkin and wiped the excess sauce at the side of his mouth.

"I wasn't avoiding you." He now says after swallowing the lump of food he placed in his mouth. "I was just… occupied." He trailed off, breaking eye contact.

"Hmm, was it because of a confession?" I asked, his head snapping right back to look at me with eyes wide. "I think Taehyung and Jimin mistook me for someone else." It was now my turn to look away as it suddenly felt hot.

When I wasn't hearing any teasing on his side, I took a peak and saw how he bit his lower lip deep in thought. His fist was clasped tight as he make a conflicted expression.

"Jungkook? Is everything alright?" I softly ask, gently guiding his chin to look at me. "You're hiding something."

"If I'm going to be honest, I'm really just holding back. I've been wanting to confess since high school, but I realized a boyfriend was not what she needed back then. Til now, I'd like to prioritize her happiness over anything else." He answers now, taking my hand and he held it in his.

I can't believe that Jungkook would call to ask me how to ask you out

Taehyung's word resounded as Jungkook spoke. I remember the conversation we had in the roof top 2 years ago. The person he wanted to confess to… was me?

"So I decided---" I cut Jungkook off with my own words surprising me.

"I like you, Jungkook." My heart pounded hard as if it wants to jump out of my chest. I've closed my eyes, trying to steady myself. I've always been scared to tell him the truth, not wanting to jeopardize the friendship we had. However, Taehyung's words gave me a little confidence.

I hope I didn't make a mistake.

I slowly opened my eyes to see his reaction, but his face showed an expression I wasn't expecting.

There was a hint of surprise, however it's easily overtaken by pain. His hand tightly holds mine as a tear escapes his eyes.

"Fuck" Jungkook mutters, eyes closed as a few more tears fall.

"You d.don't have to be bothered by what I just said. I'll cheer for you--" I was stuttering, thinking maybe Taehyung had it wrong and I really wasn't the one he had liked. Thoughts such as making a big mistake was suddenly wiped away when Jungkook pulled me into his embrace, burying his face on the crook of my neck.

"I've always loved you y/n." He softly whispers. "But this... this love of mine just wants you to be happy, and I don’t think you'll be happy with me." he slowly backs up, holding my shoulder at his arms length. His voice was dejected, his face tear-stained. "I'm sorry."

Without much thought, I cupped his cheeks and lifted his face before closing the gap as our lips collided with each other. It wasn't long until Jungkook kissed me back, his hands holding onto my waist as he pulled me closer to him.

"Whoever makes me happy is my choice. Don't go deciding on it all by yourself, idiot." I tell him as our lips part. I catch my breath, not sure if it was because of the kissing or is it my heart rate can't keep up. My eyes can't seem to face him as I did something I never thought I could, but he chuckles and presses me close to him, my face firmly pressed against his chest.

My eyes grow wide at the erratic heartbeat that I thought was mine, but as I look up, Jungkook was looking away with his ears red and cheeks flushed.

"Never imagined you’d be this bold, dumbass." He says with a smirk before looking down as he meets me eyes. I covered my face, not knowing what to do next. "Gah, you're killing me." He laughs as his nose scrunch up before kissing my forehead.

And at that moment, I've never felt more at ease.

As we walk towards my home, our hands were connected together. It wasn't the first time we held hands, but this was the first time our finger were intertwined together. As I look at our hands, I felt him tugging. As I look up, he tilted his head to the side, wordlessly asking me what's wrong.

"It just feels surreal." I answered, biting my lower lip.

"I know what you mean" His voice was shy. Looking at him, he looked the other way with his free hand over his nape.

"Taehyung told me you asked him about how to ask me out," I started teasing, his head snapping towards my direction as his face flush deep pink. "I guess he'll be disappointed to know I had to be the one to ask you out because you chickened out." I was quick to let go and started running ahead.

"You--" Jungkook quickly ran after me. My squeal echoed the empty park as we run, laughter soon filling it. As he caught me, he lifted me up and spun me around. "How dare you make fun of a maiden's heart."

"Such muscular maiden," I commented, holding onto his firm arms. He playfully flexed his biceps, making me laugh as I shake my head.

"Do you know why I built up my muscles in the first place?" He asks, gently placing me down as he guides me to the bench.

"To keep up with your karate, right? Which you're already a black belter if I'm not mistaken." I say with pride even if I didn't do anything. However, knowing the Jungkook from before, I couldn't help but be happy at how much this little boy grew up to be such a fine young man.

"The only reason why I took up karate was for the instance that some dumbass decides to step into a guy's fight again." Jungkook starts, pinching my nose as his scrunches up while his dimple shows. "I can't have that dumbass get hurt for my sake the second time."

My heart swells in happiness as I hear those words.

"You idiot, I could protect myself." I say, wiping my tears of happiness.

"Says the dumbass who trips and hurts herself on a flat surface. In fact, I feel like you're more likely to hurt yourself than other people. Hmm how do I use my karate skills to protect you from yourself?" He says, playfully putting on a 'thinking-hard' façade.

"Such a bully." I muttered but he just firmly takes my hand, intertwining his fingers with mine as his eyes turn into thin lines, his bunny smile prevailing.

"I'll take you home. You're getting cold." He says, standing up.

I didn't want to leave yet. I wanted to spend more time together.

"Y/N?" he called my attention, snapping me back to reality. I looked up to him, getting lost in those eyes. He chuckles shyly, taking my hand. "You can look at me all you want, but let's get you warm first okay?" He teased, his smirk not leaving his face. I rolled my eyes and scoffed but it was a façade. No matter how cold it was getting, my face was the warmest it has ever been.

And at that moment, I've never felt more at ease, not knowing it was a the calm before the storm.

Part 1 | Part 3

Masterlist

#bangtanhq #btswritersnet #goldenclosetnet #ficswithluv #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook ff #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic

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pretend-writer · 4 years

Text

Down Below (Chapter 56)

Summary: After being sent down on Earth with the other prisoners from the Ark, Y/N Reyes faces series of events and learns about survival. With new things happening around her, she is now starting a new chapter in her life.

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader, Raven Reyes x sister!reader

Word Count: 1690 words

Warning: swearing, mention of death

Down Below Masterlist

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The crowd cheered around the fighting pit as Marcus Kane stood there once again for the second time. He starred at me, with stern but yet eyes that had worry and sadness.

‘As we invite death into this hall, we honor it.’ Gaia talked down as we all stood higher, 'Omon Gon Oson.’

'Omon Gon Oson.’ The warriors muttered as they all looked down to honor the moment.

I gripped on the rail as I starred back at Marcus. This may be the last moment I would see him alive, I thought to myself. 'Be the last.’

The criminal in the pit immediately grabbed the weapons hung on the walls, ready to fight Marcus who was the only enemy to battle against for his freedom.

Marcus on the other hand didn’t move from his position, still starring from below.

'Choose your weapon, Kane.’ The criminal shouted, 'Neither of us will walk out alive if you don’t.’

Marcus stood still and ignored the criminal. Without another word, he punched Marcus in the face, causing him to grunt and fall to the ground.

'Kane, fight!’

He looked up at the warrior and shook his head, 'I’m not fighting you.’

Marcus slowly got up and raised his voice, 'I will not kill this man.’

Octavia quickly got up out of her throne and left the area. I stayed and watched from up high as I knew I was about to see something interesting happening.

'You are Wonkru or the enemy of Wonkru!’ Octavia yelled as she walked toward the fighting pit. 'Choose.’

The criminal kneeled down, respecting Blodreina but as for Marcus, he continued to stay still. 'I already have.’

Furiously, Octavia took the sword that was used for the pit and stomped right back to Marcus. My first instinct was to run down to the fighting pit, even thought I didn’t know why I reacted the way I did.

Once I got down, Marcus was already on the ground and Octavia hovered around him. 'Where’s your survival instinct Kane? Fight.’

'Saving our people is more than keeping them alive, Octavia.’ Marcus sat up on the ground, 'It’s not to late.’

Octavia gripped on the sword tightly. 'For you, it is.’

'Wait, Octavia.’ I screamed as I ran towards her. She raised the sword up high, biting her lip as she looked at Marcus angrily.

The sudden loud noise made all of Wonkru freeze; it was coming from above us, on the land.

Bright sunlight shone from the tiny crack from our ceiling, making me squint as I continue to check what was happening.

'Octavia, Y/N. We have to go, it isn’t safe!’ Indra tried to pull us out of the fighting pit. 'Guards, get the prisoners in their cells!’

'No!’ Octavia yelled as the ceiling continued to crack open. I froze, my mind was in shock and I didn’t know what to do.

Sooner later, the ceiling stopped making noise and the dirt stopped falling from above. Instead, there was a figure coming down from a rope but with all the dust from the dirt, it was hard to see who it was.

'Bell?’ Octavia mumbled as she slowly walked over to the figure to make sure. She then runs towards them and hugged tightly.

It felt as though my feet were planted on the ground. I still couldn’t believe that after all these years we finally had sunlight or even someone coming to save us.

The figure then let Octavia go and slowly walked towards me. 'Reyes.’

Even after six years I never forgot how his voice sounded like. It’s been so long since I heard it, I couldn’t help but cry.

With a huge smile on his face, Bellamy opened his arms as I went up to him and hugged him.

He looked down at me and wiped my tears. 'Wow, Y/N with war paint on her face? I must of missed a lot these past six years.’

'I can say the same to you.’ I smiled as I poked his beard. 'Looks good on you by the way.’

Bellamy chuckled, 'I’m so glad you kept your promise. To survive, I mean.’

'Of course I did.’ I grabbed his cheeks and reached for his lips. After all these years I would of never thought I was able to kiss him again.

Hearing another person coming down, I looked to see who was behind Bellamy. The blonde was recognizable anywhere. 'Clarke.’

She turned around, 'Y/N.’

I walked over to her and shook her hand. 'If it weren’t for you offering the helmet back in Praimfaya, I would’ve been dead. So thank you.’

'It was the least I can do after what I’ve done.’ Clarke admitted. 'What all happened here? The fence, the blood…’

'Six years is a long time.’ I replied.

Two other ropes came down but this time, it wasn’t anyone familiar. I went next to Bellamy, 'Who are they?’

'Colonel Diyoza.’ Bellamy said as he pointed at the woman that stood across from us.

'Woah, Colonel?’ I questioned her.

'Long time ago but yeah.’

'Ah, respect.’ I grinned and shook her hand. Bellamy then looked at me funny. 'What?’

He chuckled, 'Six years later and you’re still adorable.’

'Oh, so you must be his girlfriend he wouldn’t stop blabbing about.’ Diyoza smirked, 'Pretty nice, Bellamy. I like her.’

Octavia squinted her eyes, looking at Diyoza’s hip. 'Why is she armed?’

'Don’t worry. I’m not going to use it on you guys.’ Diyoza reassured her. 'So how many am I going to rescue today?’

'1200.’ Bellamy responded.

'No.’ Octavia cut him off, correcting him. '814.’

✤ · ✤ · ✤ · ✤ · ✤

After being rescued back to the ground, I stood by the huge hole that led down to the bunker. I noticed Clarke looking at me with concern in her eyes. 'Looks like you want to ask me something.’

She jumped a little, surprised I noticed her stare. 'Uhm for starters, I wanted to know what happened in the bunker but I don’t know if I want to know.’

'You don’t want to know.’ I replied. 'No one should know.’

Marcus and Abby both came back up to the ground with the rope, unbuckling their harness as they both whispered to each other.

'Oh, Y/N.’ Marcus flashed a soft smile as he approached me. 'It’s been a while since w-’

'What do you want?’ I didn’t need or want to talk to him at all. I didn’t even know why he was starting a conversation with me in the first place.

With handcuff on his hands, Marcus reached for my hand. 'You tried to stop Octavia from killing me. I remember you yelling at her before everything happened.’

'If you think I care about you, you’re fooling yourself.’

'It means that there’s still somewhere in your heart that knows this isn’t right.’ Marcus grabbed my hand and held it tight.

Swiping my hand away, I bit my lip. 'You’re out of your mind.’

I felt Clarke’s stare and her confusion as Marcus and I argued. I don’t blame her, everything was perfectly fine until he chose to pick the wrong side.

'All I know is that you’re the enemy. You have been for six years. You don’t care about what happens to Wonkru as long as your traitor girlfriend is with you.’

'Mom, what is she talking about?’ Clarke grabbed Abby’s arm.

'Nonsense, just nonsense.’ Abby glared at me.

I chuckled and looked at Clarke. 'You ask her how she’s been doing all these years. It’s all going to be lies, trust me.’

'Get out, Y/N. Before I let Diyoza know you’re a threat.’ Abby spoke angrily.

'I’m a threat?’ I laughed as I started to walk away. 'If I tell Diyoza the whole truth about the Dark Year, she’ll come after you. Not me.’

Ignoring Abby’s comments that I was clearly able to hear, I went off to find Bellamy at a spot he wanted to meet privately.

Couple of minutes of walking, I finally made it to a building filled with sand. The Priamfaya really destroyed everything that was left on Earth.

'What’s going on here, “Skafaiya”?’ Bellamy crossed his arms as I approached him. 'Princess of Hell sounds pretty questionable. What were you guys doing down at the bunker?’

'Hey, you told me to meet me in the building by the fallen Polis Tower so I came. It’s been six years, Bellamy. Don’t you think we should save the interrogation for another time?’

He sighed, 'I’m trying to make sense of all this. War paint, grounder clothes and being commander? This isn’t like you.’

'I’m not commander and neither is Octavia. She’s the leader of Wonkru and I’m just there to help.’

I felt judgement in his eyes but I didn’t blame him. There was tons of things he needed to catch up on, too bad none of the information was something I wanted to talk about.

'All the warriors listening to everything Octavia say, seems like they’re scared of her.’ Bellamy looked at me, 'And scared of you too.’

'A lot of things happened down there, okay?’ I started to get a little irritated. 'I’m not here for a lecture from Spacekru, Bellamy. I came to see my boyfriend because I missed him after six freaking years.’

'Okay, okay. I’m sorry.’ He took my hand and pulled me towards him. 'We can talk about it another time but you have to tell me what happened soon.’

Wrapping my arms around his waist, I looked up at him. 'I don’t know if I can do that.’

'Why not?’

'It was Hell and I don’t want to relive it ever again.’ As I buried my face into Bellamy’s chest, I felt a sigh from him. I can tell it was frustrating for him to not understand what all was going on.

It wasn’t anything fun that happened down in the bunker for to share to anyone. It was a living nightmare, even the warriors from Wonkru didn’t want to talk about it.

How can I tell Bellamy what happened during the Dark Years? It was nothing but pain that I wanted to forget.

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tag list; @jodiereedus22, @coffeebooksandfandom, @bellamyblakemorley, @wisestydia-15, @dbtvluv , @hurricane–amelia , @lexalexy , @olkathefoxi, @lena-davina, @kellbell44, @thehakunamatara, @akelly4477, @morgannope, @littlegirl-fox, @captainam-erika-trash, @greygarbage, @nathaliabakes, @eternallyvenus, @rauwz, @broco8, @eridanuswave

#bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake fic #raven reyes x sister!reader #raven reyes x reader #the 100 series #the 100 fic

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redhairedfeistynerd · 5 years

Text

Life is Gourd

For @sunmoonandbucky and the delightful 1.5 challenge that was posted eons ago. Thank you for your patience.

This short piece is only the start for this sweet trio - more will be posted in the coming week. Word count: 1600+ Warnings: frustrated Bucky, soft Bucky, sad kids

Single Dad Bucky

The first year after his divorce was the hardest – starting over on his own with his two young children has its ups and downs and he just wants a few regular moments with them.

“No daddy, that’s all wrong!” Piper whined, her face dropping, clearly disappointed with her father’s work.

Bucky looks at his daughter, she had definitely mastered the art of pouting. He cut into the pumpkin again, trying to fix the mouth he carved. “You told me you wanted a smile with two teeth and that’s what I carved for you, Pip,” Bucky said as he pulled out the knife and placed it next to orange creation.

“I wanted the two teeth on the top, not on the bottom,” said Piper, her bottom lip quivering and eyes starting to well up with tears. “It needs to look like my teeth,” she says, pointing to the two empty spaces in her mouth. “You should know that daddy.”

Bucky let out a sigh, this was the part of parenting that he found frustrating. The pouting. The tears. The dreadful whining. The faces his daughter could pull off were worthy of an Academy Award. He felt defeated by the 4-year-old standing beside him. Running his hand through his hair, he took a deep breath and tried to keep calm. Today was supposed to be an easy day, one where he could take his girls out and do something normal, something that brought joy and smiles to his daughter’s tiny faces. Their schedule was clear – no work, no school, and no daycare. He needed this time with his girls, it was important to feel like a family again and pumpkin carving was the best way to start.

“How’s your masterpiece coming along,” a female voice asked from behind Bucky, snapping him out of his self-talk.

Turning around, he saw one of the female employees of the rec centre he frequented with his young daughters. He had noticed her behind the front desk the first time he brought Piper to swimming lessons the year before. She offered a friendly smile and a quick tour of the amenities and let Bucky know she would be there for the next hour if he had any other questions. Here she was today, dressed for Halloween and willing to help all the families in the gym.

“My daddy made a mess of it,” Piper replied as she pointed to the pumpkins toothy grin. “He put the teeth in the wrong spot and I don’t like it.”

Bucky’s cheeks warmed, embarrassed by being called out by his daughter. Of course, she would blab about that right away. Defeated again. No Father of the Year award for him.

“You ok there? You’re looking a bit flushed in the face, Mr…”

“Barnes. My daddy is Mr. Barnes, lady,” Piper offered.

“Bucky. Please, call me Bucky.” Standing up from his chair, he reached out to shake the woman’s hand. She slipped her hand into his, her grip tight and covered in slime; pumpkin guts he notices as he pulled his hand back. His blue eyes ran over her quickly – hair pulled back, Halloween headband with ghosts on springs bounced as she walked over to the stroller.

“And who is this little sweet pea?” She asked Piper, peeking into see the sleeping ladybug in the stroller.

“Riley. That’s my little sister, so that means I’m the bigger one.” Piper points her thumbs towards her chest, clearly proud of her role of big sister.

Bucky took in the scene in front of him; his daughter telling Y/L all about her little sister and what their plans were for this Halloween. He heard Piper ask what the women’s name was and cursed at himself for not asking her when they shook hands.

Y/N.

“Show me what you wanted your pumpkin to look like and maybe I can work with your daddy to fix it up for you.” She moved over to where the pumpkin was sitting, took a quick peek before squatting down to Piper’s level.

“The teeth are wrong, daddy messed them up,” Piper tells Y/L, her tiny fingers pointing to her dad, clearly calling him out.

Y/L looked up to Bucky, her eyebrow raised and trying to stifle a laugh; his daughter was not impressed with his handiwork.

“What were you thinking, Piper? How did you want your pumpkin to look? Maybe a silly face?” Y/L asked. “A silly face like this,” she added while sticking her tongue out and rolling her eyes to one side.

Piper giggled and poked her fingers into the mouth, running her fingers over the two teeth. “The teeth should be on the top row, not the bottom. Sometimes daddy doesn’t listen-

“Piper,” warned Bucky, “you don’t need to go and tell people that sort of thing. I’m trying my best here.” The comment agitated him, he really did try his best for the girls but this whole ‘single father’ thing was still fresh and instead of four ears to listen, there were now only two.

Y/N nudged Bucky’s knee softly, “Hey, don’t worry about it. I’m not going to judge you. I see you with the girls around the rec centre all the time. Swimming, art classes, and now you’re here for family pumpkin carving. You clearly hear what they want to do, don’t be so hard on yourself.” Y/N turned back to Piper, and explained how she was going to fix the pumpkin’s teeth.

Bucky handed off the knife to Y/N and watches as she removes the teeth he had carved; she places them where Piper instructed her to. Pulling several toothpicks out of her apron, she presses them into the orange flesh quickly. He can hear her humming as she works away, her fingers are inside the pumpkin now and he can see the pieces shifting together to complete the puzzle. Standing back, she admires her work before revealing her makeover of the pumpkin.

“All right Piper, here’s the big reveal!” Turning the pumpkin towards Piper, she watches as delight spreading across her small face.

“Daddy! Look! Y/N is a pumpkin dentist. She fixed it and now it looks perfect.” Piper bounced around next to Bucky, her braided hair flopping with each jump. He feels a smile creeping up, with each of Piper’s movements, his face showing the happiness he feels inside.

“How about we take a picture and you can show it to you mom?”

Y/N had expected the little girl’s face to light up and the mention of sharing their creation with the other parent. Instead, Piper turns to her father, face now solemn and looking to him for an answer. Y/N watches as Bucky pulls her to his chest and embraces her and whispers something into her ear. His large hands rub small circles on her back as she says something equally as quiet to him. Bucky looks over Piper’s head, his eyes meeting Y/N’s as he mouths ‘sorry’ to her. She’s not sure what the sorry is for and the confusion must show on her face because Bucky hugs his daughter once more and gently guides her to a table with other children decorating Halloween masks. She skips over to a free chair and joins in as if nothing had happened.

Hands in his pockets, he walks over to where Y/N is. “I appreciate you helping us out with the pumpkin, I’m pretty sure Piper was a few minutes away from a full on melt down.” He keeps his head down, sliding one foot back and forth on the gymnasium floor. “We’ve had a tough year, the three of us and I’m thankful that you took the time to help us out. It’s been hard for Piper without her mom around for family events,” he discloses.

Y/L isn’t too sure how to respond, an awkwardness has fallen over both of them. She musters out ‘You’re welcome, Bucky’ and watches as he walks over to the craft table, crouching down to watch Piper as she paints a cat mask. He runs his hands gently across her dark braids and whispers something in her ear, making her grin and throw her arms around his shoulders. Wrapping his arms around her, he lifts her up and takes her mask from the table, a smile on his face as he walks back to where his younger child sleeps.

“Can y/n come too?” Piper asks, tugging on Bucky’s sweater and jumping up and down.

Bucky can’t help but smile at his daughter’s enthusiasm. “How about you join us for a hot chocolate, we need to pay the pumpkin dentist somehow,” he asks.

“This dentist definitely takes sugary drinks as payment.” Y/L shoots a smile Bucky’s way. His blue eyes meet hers and he responds with a grin. “Give me a sec to check out and we can head out.”

Bucky watched as the ghosts bob away from him, chuckling at how hilarious she looks. He can see her talking to an older gentleman, laughing as she hands him her apron, and jogs back to where he is standing with his girls. “I’m all clear and ready for marshmallows and whip cream,” she laughs and Piper gives her a high five.

“You um…forgot to take off your headband,” Bucky says shyly, hoping not to embarrass Y/L.

“There is no WAY I am taking these off, look how cute they are!” She reaches up and runs her hands over the fuzzy ghosts. “You like them, right Piper?” The little girl nods and reaches out for Y/L to hold her hand.

Bucky can’t help but smile. As hard as this day had been for him, it seems to be taking a positive turn. Piper is happy and he can’t seem to stop smiling. One hand on the stroller, he reaches with his free hand to hold Piper’s other hand.

“Lead the way Pip, I bet I know exactly which shop you’re going to pick.”

#1.5kconstellationswritingchallenge #bucky barnes #single dad bucky #my writing #pumpkin carving #family #sunmoonandbucky #redhairedfeistynerd

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flashflashitsash · 4 years

Text

Becoming Parents 7

Ao3

1 ... 6 / 8 or Master List

3 Months In (Part 1)

Marinette stood beaming in front of the mirror. She had just finished her dress for the announcement dinner she’d planned for their close friends. It was light grey with a sweetheart neckline. The bodice was fitted, but it became flowy as it got closer to her waist. And of course, she had matching hair ribbons. Tonight she would be proudly showing off her growing bump.

She'd invited everyone close to them. The guest list included Alya, Nino, Chloe, and several other friends they’d kept in contact with over the years. (This group mainly consisted of those who held a miraculous.)

“I can’t believe today’s the day!” Marinette giggled, looking back at Adrien.

He snuck up behind her, snaked his arms around her waist, placed a hand on her small bump, and caressed it lightly with his thumb.

“I know! All three of us have been trying to hide from everyone for a few weeks now." He kissed her cheek and looked down at her dress. “You’re going to look beautiful."

She blushed at his compliment.

“I haven’t even told Alya! She’s going to freak!" she giggled, jumping on her toes in his embrace.

“Wow, I’m impressed." He smiled at his wife. “To be honest, I always thought you’d tell her before me." He chuckled.

“Oh, Minou, I love Alya, but I’d never do that to you. I know how much we both wanted a family, especially you.” She stood on her tip-toes and allowed their noses touch.

He squeezed his eyes shut to keep tears from falling. “I love you so much.“

“I love you, too, but it’s been hard to keep this from her.” Marinette bit her lip and set down her dress.

“Alya knows when anything is slightly off with me. Especially lately now that I'm wearing bigger shirts and flowy skirts. She's used to seeing me in pencil skirts.” She huffed and scrunched her nose. “They don’t fit anymore, and when we go shopping, I keep refusing to share a dressing room with her. I have no doubt that she’s either figured it out and hasn’t said anything yet or that she’s suspicious."

She took a seat and chuckled.

“OH! And let’s not forget the fact that I've been avoiding restaurants that serve alcohol!” Marinette threw her hands in the air. “That's been a nightmare. Alya loves her wine.”

Adrien laughed as he squatted down to her level. “I am almost certain that if Alya found out you were expecting, she’d either say something or she’d come over the next day demanding an “Auntie Alya” t-shirt.”

Marinette laughed and batted the hair away from her face. “Good thing I've already made it then, huh?” She got up, walked over to her trunk, and pulled out the pale red shirt.

“You never cease to amaze me, you know that?” He got up and walked over to her. "She’s going to be ecstatic."

“I hope so, but if she cries then I’m going to cry,” she sniffed, trying to keep tears from falling.

“How lucky are we to have so many people who love and support us ?” he beamed, cupping her face with his hands.

He rested his forehead on hers, pondering how not so long ago, he felt alone, trapped, and hopeless. He thought he’d end up alone. While he knew his father would be there, it would have just been a cold face to see every day.

Then Plagg showed up, along with Alya and Nino. And of course, he'd met his Lady, his Marinette. It was then that he discovered that he could be happy.

He thought back on how everyone he cared for pitched in on the day he proposed. It was perfectly imperfect.

*flashback*

Adrien fiddled with his fingers as he waited outside the jewelry store.

“I can’t believe I’m gonna do this". He bit his lip and looked down the sidewalk before using his phone to double-check with Nino that Alya was still coming.

“Kid, she loves you, and you love her. Everyone has been waiting for this moment." Plagg poked his head out of Adrien's coat and looked up at him with an annoyed expression.

“Ugh, Plagg!" Before he could make a snarky comment back, a finger tapped his shoulder, causing him to pause.

“Hey there, Goldilocks!" a familiar voice said behind him.

He let out a sigh of relief. “Hey, Alya!”

“What's up? You said we needed to go shopping?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Yes, and I need us to do this in less than two hours because I told Marinette's parents that I needed to talk with them and then I need to go speak with my father and..." He stopped when Alya squealed.

“YOU'RE GOING TO PROPOSE!?!”

“SHHH! But yes...wait, how’d you know?” His head fell, hoping it wasn’t obvious to Marinette.

“You're going to speak with her parents, and you never talk to your Father unless you have to. Plus you're inviting me and only me to shop?" She smiled and patted his shoulder, understanding his distress.

“Don’t worry about Marinette. Your dad has her on a witch hunt for a certain kind of fabric. She’s checked out until she finds it." Alya laughed as his face un-scrunched.

“Thank God! Well not that she’s stressed but that she won’t catch on." He let out a deep breath. “So, what I had made for her has...” He opened the door and continued blabbing as they stepped into the jewelry store.

Tom and Sabine turned when they heard the bakery bell ding.

“Hi, Son!” Marinette's father called from the back end of the store.

“Hello, M. Dupain!” Adrien smiled as he bent over to give Sabine a hug.

“Hello, dear, how are you? You sounded stressed on the phone this morning,” she smiled, patting his back.

“Maybe we could talk upstairs?” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

They closed the bakery for a little while. Lunch had just ended, so things were slow. They went to the living room, and they all sat down. Adrien bit his lip and felt his stomach turn.

“Alright, what did you want to talk to us about?” Tom smiled and placed an arm around Sabine.

“I-I...well, you both know Marinette and I have been together for a very long time now? It's been almost 7 years to be exact. We both love each other so much, and I care about her more than you can imagine...” He trailed off, realizing he was about to start babbling. He took a deep breath reaching into his pocket pulling out a small black box. “We both are very secure in our jobs now and well...I was hoping you’d give me your blessing to ask Marinette to marry me?”

He unveiled the small box in his hands. Sabine gasped and wiped a stray tear from her face.

Tom pulled Adrien into a bone-crushing hug. “Of course, you do, son!“

“Tom, put the boy down!” Sabine placed a hand on Tom's back as he set Adrien down.

“Thank you both..." He was cut off by his phone ringing. “ I-I have to go meet my father. I’ll be back to help with evening orders!”

Adrien ran towards the exit and waved before walking out the door.

“Don’t worry about it, son! Go make my daughter's night!" Tom called out, smiling and wrapping an arm around Sabine. “Our little girl is going to get married.” He sniffed, and Sabine wiped away a stray tear.

“Natalie, is Adrien here yet? “ Gabriel stepped out of his office and looked down at her.

“No, sir. He called and said he would be here in a moment.” She went back to fiddling with her tablet.

“Ugh, always late-"

“I’m here!” He chimed, rushing through the front doors.

“Quickly, Adrien, I’m very busy." Gabriel turned and walked back into his office, Adrien following in tow.

“Yes, Father. I’m sorry I’m late. I just came from the bakery, and..."

“Ahh, your girlfriend's family bakery, yes?”

Adrien nodded. He began to rub his arm and sway back and forth. He began to wonder if he should sit down.

“What have you come to tell me? Also, sit down. All your fidgeting is going to make me feel dizzy" Gabriel gestured to the chair in front of his desk.

Adrien sat reluctantly and bounced his leg. “Well, Father, you know I’ve been with Marinette for a while now, and I-I know she’s an employee, but I don’t want this to change anything..."

“Adrien, you’re already dating her, and you’ve been dating her for years might I add. It hasn’t been a conflict of interest for a long time. It wasn't a problem when she applied for her position, and it's not an issue now." He fixed his glasses and leaned back in his big chair.

“Right..um, well I plan on proposing tonight..to...her." He hadn’t dared to meet his father's eyes yet. He was still worried that he'd say no.

“That’s wonderful."

Adrien looked up, shocked “What?”

“I said, that's wonderful, Adrien. I’m happy you’ve found someone you love and care about. I see the way you both look at one another. It reminds me of when your mother and I were young.”

For the first time in years, Adrien saw his father smile. “She loves you, no doubt."

Gabriel stood up, walked around his desk, and faced Adrien.

“I know this because every time I ask her to sketch up a male design, the male always happens to be you,” he teased, placing a hand on Adrien’s shoulder.

Adrien blushed and stood, as well. “ Thank you, Father."

Rather than their usual handshake, Adrien hugged his father. Gabriel simply patted his son's back in return.

Gabriel looked back at the photo of his wife on his desk as Adrien pulled away and met his gaze. “I know we don’t speak of her often, but I know she’s very proud of you Adrien.” He paused and once again moved behind his desk. “Now go. I have a wedding line to start thinking about.”

At a loss for words, Adrien swallowed the lump in his throat. “T-thank you, Father! Goodbye!”

On his way out of the room, Adrien bumped into a person carrying a pile of fabric. He quickly reached out and caught the woman

“I’m so sorry...hey, Lovebug!” He smiled when he realized it was Marinette.

“Hey, you! Wait...why are you here?” She cast him a worried look while she bent down to pick up the fabric. “Did something happen? Is your dad firing me? I was hoping I’d get a spot as one of the head designers. Ugh, I’m going to have to move, and..."

“Don't worry! It was just a quick meeting about a new line my father wants to design," he reassured, helping her up.

“A new line?! He didn’t tell me anything about that. What is it?”

He hesitated, scratching the back of his neck. “Uhh...he didn’t exactly say what since he just thought of it. So don’t mention it yet.”

He mentally face-palmed when he realized that he almost let the cat out of the bag.

“Oh okay, we’re still going to dinner tonight right?” She smiled, moving loose strand from her bun to behind her ear.

“Of course, M’lady.” He kissed her forehead.

"Great! I finally found the fabric your father asked for.” She gestured to the mess of expensive limited silk in her hands.

“That's wonderful! I’ll let you get back to work. See you tonight!" He gave her a quick peck and left.

Adrien made it to the Eiffel Tower in time to help get the table and roses set up. He'd rented a violinist and had reserved a private table. The space was dimly lit with candles and a small overhead light.

“Alright, everything’s going perfectly!"

He made his way to an alley and transformed. He needed to get back to Marinette's apartment quickly so he could change his clothes.

After he snuck through the window she'd left open for him, Adrien tried to locate all the pieces of his outfit. He groaned when he discovered that his tie was missing.

“Plagg, did you take my tie again?” he huffed, looking up after checking under the bed.

“No, I did not. I learned my lesson last time," Plagg whined.

“Last time you used it as your own personal table and napkin." Adrien got up and checked another drawer.

“That was an accident."

“Was it?”

Plagg chuckled, knowing it wasn’t an accident. He did it just to mess with Adrien before his model contract meetings.

“FOUND IT!” Adrien exclaimed, pulling the tie out from under a pillow.

“Found what?”

He jumped upon hearing her voice. Then his jaw dropped when he saw her.

She was wearing a black, fitted dress with long lace sleeves that started past her shoulders and ended at her wrists. She also wore a skinny red belt and heels to match. She traded her work bun for a high ponytail, and, of course, she had two red ribbons that tied the look together.

“Do I look okay? I called Alya to help me pick out an outfit. I know you said fancy, but I wasn’t sure how fancy. And it’s not exactly warm out, so I wasn’t sure If should’ve worn pants or..." she was cut off by a pair of soft lips on hers.

Without hesitation, she smiled and kissed him back.

Adrien pulled back and allowed his lips to brush against hers while he spoke. “You look gorgeous. It’s perfect.” He pecked her lips one more time, his eyes never leaving hers. “Ready to go?”

She giggled. “You have red lipstick on your lips.”

Marinette smirked when she saw him turn red while she wiped the make-up off his lips. After she cleaned him up, they made their way to the restaurant.

Once there, he covered her eyes with a cloth and lead her up to their private table. Unfortunately, their table wound up not being so private. To Adrien's surprise, the room had been filled with people.

“We’re so sorry, M. Agreste. We will give you your wine free of charge. We’re over capacity downstairs." A man explained with panic lacing his voice.

From this brief interaction, Adrien assumed that his father had made a scene before under similar circumstances.

“It’s alright." He placed a hand on the man's shoulder to prove that it was okay.

“Adrien? Can I open my eyes now?” She lifted the cloth a bit but still kept her eyes shut.

“Yeah! Sorry." He removed the cloth and lead her over to their table...which was no longer dimly lit. (The candles had been taken away because having more people in the room meant that it was a fire hazard.)

“I’m so sorry, Marinette. This is not what I had planned,” He sighed, letting his head fall.

She squeezed his hand.

“It’s perfect,” she smiled, walking over to the table and plucking a rose from the only small bouquet that was left. “I love the roses.” She cupped his cheek, making him meet her eyes. “All I need for a perfect date night is you, Chaton."

He stared into her eyes. They were just so mesmerizingly blue. It was easy to get lost in them.

“I’m sorry. It was just a bit of a shock to see everything I set up suddenly looking different." He walked over to the table and pulled out her chair for her.

She sat down then looked up at him. “Well, I think it’s perfect."

Marinette then grabbed the menu and pondered what to get.

Soon, they had finished their plates and were waiting for dessert.

“Well, I’d like to make a small toast.” He lifted his wineglass towards her.

She gave him a small smile and searched his face.

Lifting her glass towards him, she asked curiously, “What are we celebrating?”

Before he could respond, they heard a commotion coming from the kitchen.

“Oh please, for the love of God,” Adrien grumbled.

He was starting to think that maybe he should get down on one knee sooner rather than later.

The black butterfly that flew over their heads beat him to it.

“Duty calls, Kitty,” she sighed, pulling off her heels.

“Hawkmoth has lousy timing." He loosened his tie while Marinette dragged him into the bathroom.

They went back to Adrien's apartment after the fight. Because they had to recharge during the battle, they were exhausted. Apparently, the main chef had been accused of sabotaging someone’s meal, and he'd gotten (understandably) upset.

“I’m so tired that I might just fall asleep in the shower," Marinette huffed, shuffling over to the two drawers filled with extra clothes for when she stayed over at Adrien's.

“Ugh, no kidding. Look at the bruises.” Adrien turned, gesturing to the backside of his hip.

She sighed and grabbed his hand. “We will get him one day. He’s getting weaker. I can feel it.”

He brought her hand up to his lips. “I know we will. Now, get your butt into the shower, and I’ll make us some tea."

He placed a kiss on her hand while simultaneously pulling the hair ribbons off of her ponytail. He smiled as he watched her hair fall down past her bare shoulders.

“And to think I was going to ask for company," she giggled, unbuttoning his shirt, “but..tea also sounds really nice.”

She bit her lip, letting go of his now unbuttoned shirt and trailing her fingertips down his bare chest.

“Oh, but tea can wait.” He smirked and unzipped the back of her dress, letting his fingers graze her back ever so slightly and relishing in the goosebumps it gave her.

“Nope! It can’t!” She laughed, holding up her dress, racing into his bathroom, and locking the door.

He groaned. “M’lady, no teasing!”

“Chamomile please!” She called from the other side of the door.

Adrien walked out of the bathroom to find Marinette going through his closet.

“What are ya looking for?” he laughed, drying off his hair.

She jumped and held her towel closer to her chest.

“A t-shirt. I don’t feel like wearing any of the PJs I have here." She blushed and looked away.

He pulled on his pajama pants and tossed her the shirt he was going to wear. “This one's really soft."

Catching it, she bounced on her toes and rubbed the soft fabric against her cheek. “Thank you, minou.” She let her towel fall and pulled on the shirt. Even though it was obviously too big, she liked it. She flopped on top of his bed and let out a muffled groan. “My body aches.”

He laughed and picked up his suit pants. He felt the blood rush away from his face as he felt the small box that was still in his pocket. He frowned a bit when he realized that he didn’t get the chance to ask at the restaurant.

“Are you okay?” She asked, making her way to the edge of the bed and grabbing his forearm gently.

He turned to her and smiled. “Yes, I am. I’m sorry our date got cut short."

He slid the box into his pajama pants and crawled into bed next to her.

As she laid down on her side, she watched him do the same. He faced her and propped his head up with his elbow.

“It’s okay. I had fun even though we were there for only a little while." She reached up and gently moved his hair out of his face.

He felt goosebumps form under her touch. He couldn’t help but look at her. She was so beautiful that it was almost intoxicating. Adrien knew he had it bad.

“I love you," he began, “I've loved you for years, and I love everything about you. Your smile, your laugh, and the way you stick your tongue out when you're focused on whatever you’re working on. I'm in love with the confidence you have with every step you take. I love the hope you have in any and every situation life throws at us, as both heroes and civilians. I love your eyes...god your eyes! I get lost in them at least twice a day. I love when you sneak up behind me just to hug me. I love your competitive side which I find wildly attractive and sexy. Marinette, I’m head over heels in love with you.”

She felt the blood rushing to her face, and she was close to looking like a tomato.

“A-Adrien...” She sat up next to him and watched in awe as he fumbled under the blankets.

He stood up and pulled her with him. They stood in the dark while moonlight tried to creep in through the semi-open curtains.

“I want to spend every day with you for the rest of my life," he blushed, feeling the butterflies in his stomach kick up his nerves.

When he pulled out the small black box, he heard her gasp. He dropped down to one knee and grabbed her hands.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” he smiled, looking up at her and placing a quick kiss on her knuckles, ”you make me feel like the happiest and luckiest man on earth every day, and I want to make you feel the same every day until I die.” He sniffed and did his best to swallow the lump that was forming in his throat. “Will you marry me?” He opened the box, showcasing the ring.

Marinette felt the tears roll down her face, each tear racing to see who would make it down first. Her heart pounded in her chest as she looked down at the incredible man professing his love to her. The man who was asking her to marry him.

“ Y-yes! Of course, Adrien!” she choked out.

Adrien let go of the breath he’d been holding in. He got to his feet as tears started rolling down his own cheeks.

“Ah, now I’m crying!" He wiped his face and slid the ring onto her finger.

Marinette threw her arms around him and locked her lips with his.

*flashback over*

“Minou? Are you okay?” She reached up and wiped his face. “You’re crying." She frowned.

He opened his eyes. “It’s just hitting me that I never thought I could this content with my life. I have the best friends, the best support system I could ask for, and an amazing, beautiful wife. Heck, even my father is starting to turn around. I was so...alone, and now I'm living the life I never thought would happen. Sometimes it feels like a dream. Well, if it is, I never want to wake up." He chuckled. “I’m so grateful for you.” He nuzzled his face into her neck. “I thank my lucky stars every day that you chose me to be with. And now we're starting a family, and it's even more incredible than I ever thought it could be.”

She pulled him into a hug, tears brimming her eyes. “Oh, Adrien...I love you so much.”

Marinette squeezed him as much as she could while his grip tightened around her waist.

To be continued...

—

Big thanks to @gryffindorcls for betaing. She’s the cooliest.

#becoming parents fic #my fic #miraculous ladybug #miraculous #adrienette #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #ml fic #parents fic

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ericsonclan · 4 years

Text

Making Some Music

Summary: Aasim and Ruby have a special moment alone with tea and some playful flirting.

Read on A03:

“Are you ready, my dove?” Aasim asked, closing the music room doors and turning to look at his girlfriend.

“Just about,” Ruby looked up from the tea set she’d placed upon the folding table they’d brought into the room. It wasn’t much of a set, just two cracked mugs and a teapot with half of the spout snapped off, but still it made Aasim feel fancy. He’d also been able to squeeze into a facsimile of a suit jacket made for a production of My Fair Lady performed at Ericson over a decade ago. Ruby had been able to find a maid’s uniform that mostly fit her. The dress went well past her knees and only half closed in the back, but neither of them were focusing on such details.

Sitting down together upon the couch, the two smiled at each other fondly as Ruby poured the echinacea tea for the both of them. Aasim had found the purple flowers a few months ago and brought them back for Ruby. She’d been very excited at the discovery, dedicating a corner of one of the planters to the blossoms. The vernacular for them was purple coneflowers and Ruby they were incredibly helpful for medicine. She and Aasim had soon found that they made a strong tea as well, one the couple usually combined with fresh mint when they had their secret tea parties.

Although there were a few such as Prisha or Omar who might enjoy having tea as well, so far the couple had kept these tea times private, fearing that if the secret was shared even once everyone would soon find out and they would never be able to enjoy such intimate privacy again. When they had tea together, the world outside faded away for just a few minutes and life felt blissfully normal.

“This batch has a particularly strong kick,” Ruby commented. She took a sip from the teacup she held lightly between her hands, the delicate handle long gone.

“Indeed,” Aasim murmured, raising his own cup to his lips. There was a large chip missing from its left side. Rather than avoiding it, Aasim had gotten used to drinking from that region of the cup before the tea spilled upon the floor. They chatted for a time about this and that: how chores had gone today, future projects such as the orchard they were hoping to form with the seeds Louis and Omar had brought back from a recent caravan. As they spoke, Aasim noticed a sort of pink netting poking out from Ruby’s skirt which had tangled and gotten caught up around one knee. “What exactly is that?”

“Oh, this?” Ruby nodded toward the pink material. “I was in the basement a few days ago looking around for some twinkle lights I thought I’d spotted down there when I came across another old costume box. I figure the stuff in it was from a production of The Nutcracker considering how many mouse costumes were in it. But I found this as well and figured it might do a good job poofing up my dress. Do you like it?”

Now that he looked closer, Aasim could see that Ruby’s maid outfit looked fuller than usual. “Quite impressive. If possible, it makes you look even more radiant than you did before,”

“Aww, stop that,” Ruby chuckled, giving her boyfriend a playful push. “You always say the darndest sweet things, especially during teatime,”

“I only speak the truth,” Aasim replied, looking at her with love. In a world so cruel and dark with no sort of future for them outside these walls, why not lavish all his affection upon the girl who had proven to surpass each and every one of his dreams? Ruby pulled him out of the tedium of daily life and into a world of hope where real progress could be made and visions achieved. This beautiful, brave, hard-working girl deserved every compliment Aasim could ever come up with to give her. Being with her, it really felt as though they had been able to turn Ericson into more than a survival outpost. It was home.

Ruby’s eyes glimmered, something more mischievous taking root in them. “Aasim,”she murmured, playing with the hem of her dress. “Are you feeling… frisky?”

The question set Aasim’s heart racing, his throat going dry despite just finishing his cup of tea. He nodded, setting his cup aside for a moment and awkwardly clearing his throat. “Of course,”

“Then let’s get started,” Ruby bounced to her feet, beginning to pour another up of tea. Aasim settled back on the couch, grabbing up the nearest book that lay on one of the arms of the furniture. This was a game they’d played together many times since discovering these costumes. Aasim wasn’t sure exactly what it was about seeing Ruby in a maid outfit that got him so worked up. Perhaps it was from reading Pride and Prejudice and the rest of the stack of Jane Austen books left behind in Miss Martin’s room time and time again. He’d taken to reading them aloud to Ruby at night and sometimes during teatime as well until they’d made their way through the entire set together. Ruby seemed to enjoy them just as much as Aasim did, something about the elegance and refinement of a bygone era entranced them.

After pouring the tea, Ruby began to dust the furniture with a scrap of an old shirt she kept tucked in the pocket of her maid uniform, humming to herself as she worked. As she wiped off different things and picked up trash off the floor, Aasim pretended to be absorbed in his reading. In truth he’d read the same sentence about five times now, his eyes constantly wandering over to his girlfriend, watching as she bent over or took particular care shining some knickknack atop the mantle. After a few minutes she turned to him with a smile. “Room’s all finished, sir,”

Aasim looked up from his book slowly, his eyes coldly examining the room. “I think not. Look at this place. It’s still filthy,”

A false pout took over Ruby’s lips as she looked at him, hands on her hips. “Well sir, perhaps if you didn’t treat it like such a pigsty it would look better,”

“What was that?” Aasim set aside his book, rising from the couch. “I’ll have you know that I keep my house up to the highest of standards as befitting a gentleman such as myself. I thought that you felt the same when it came to cleanliness, but perhaps that’s not the case,”

Ruby gasped in mock indignation. “I’ll have you know I’m one of the best-known maids in this entire county! Now if you ain’t happy with how the room was done, I’ll just start right on over again and prove you wrong!” She returned to her work with an added fervor, bustling about and rearranging this and that as she went.

Aasim couldn’t help but smile to himself. Even when she was trying to pretend to be someone entirely different, Ruby couldn’t help her Southern accent slipping through all the stronger when she got into character. He loved that about her. Slowly he began to follow her round the room, picking up each and every object that she cleaned and judging it silently. Ruby’s eyes met his, a playful smile crossing her face as Aasim began to draw closer and closer to her. Eventually they’d made a full rotation of the room, standing before the piano as Ruby began to dust off the keys. Aasim reached out, his hand brushing a stray curl away from her cheek.

Ruby pulled back with a dramatic gasp. “Why sir! What kind of an action was that? Are you making a move on me while I’m busy dustin’ and cleanin’ your parlor?”

“Don’t act coy with me. I’ve seen the looks you’ve given me as we’ve played our little game of cat and mouse right round this very room,” Aasim’s hand slipped round Ruby’s waist, pulling her closer as the other played with the zipper on the back of her outfit. “You, my dear, are a naughty, naughty maid,”

Suddenly a voice came from out in the hallway. “I’ll be there, later, Clem! There're a few things I want to do first!” Louis. He wasn’t supposed to be back from hunting yet. What on earth had led him to return so early? The footsteps were almost upon them, Louis talking to himself as he fiddled with the music room doors. “Ah, finally! Just me and the good old pia-” His words froze in his mouth as his eyes came upon the sight before him: Aasim and Ruby in full costume, wrapped in each other’s’ arms, Ruby pressed against the piano as Aasim’s hand was in the middle of unzipping her dress. “-No…” Louis murmured to himself, his sentence awkwardly finishing as he closed the door he had just opened.

There was a moment of tense silence, Ruby and Aasim sharing a look of fear as they wondered what Louis would do next.

Then the dreadlocked boy’s voice rang through the hallway once more. “Clem! You won’t believe what I just saw!”

“Shit,” Aasim swore, wildly wriggling out of his jacket before running toward the door. He couldn’t let Louis blab about this to everyone else at the school. “Louis, stop! It’s not what you think!” He sprinted out into the hallway in an attempt to cut his friend off at the pass. Ruby could hear their continued arguing as she awkwardly tried to zip her dress back up.

“It’s not what I think?” Louis retorted, the glee clear in his voice. “Oh ho ho, dear Aasim, looks like you’ve corrupted our sweet Ruby in your time with her,”

“No, it’s not like that at all! We were- having tea!”

“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” Suddenly Louis’ tone shifted, turning to one of dread. “Wait. Oh god. My piano. You guys haven’t…?”

"What? No! We were just standing by it, I swear!”

“What’s all this about the piano?” Clementine’s voice came through the hall.

“Nothing!”

“Clem, I just saw the wildest thing when I opened the music room doors!”

“Louis, I swear to God…”

Ruby sighed. So much for their special teatimes. There was no keeping them a secret now. Still, perhaps it was for the best. Instead of hiding away from the rest of the school like they were hiding some big secret, perhaps now they could simply be honest and upfront when they needed some alone time. Considering how often Louis and Clementine and Violet and Prisha snuck off to be alone, Ruby was sure they’d extend her and Aasim the same courtesy and discretion they’d shown them. For now though, it was best to go out there and settle this fight. Taking one last sip of tea, Ruby squared her shoulders and stepped out into the hallway to set the record straight.

#rusim #clouis #fanfic #twdg #twdg aasim #twdg ruby #twdg louis

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