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blissfullylostinarabbithole · 1 year

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Duckling Pt. 9

Pairing: AU!Teen Wolf x Reader x AU!Avengers, Derek Hale x Reader

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Bucky and Peter attempt to conduct their own investigations.

A/N: Last updated December of 2020 😅 I'm out of practice and it's pretty clear in this installment. But it's exists, so I'm counting it as a win. Go me!

A/N 2: Scrapping the tag list for now as I have no idea if anyone is still even interested in this, or when the next update will be.

<<Prev . Next >>

Steve was outside grabbing the mail when Bucky pulled up. He could barely look him in the eye when he declined his offer to prepare him something for lunch, saying he only stopped by to swap the bike for their pickup. He hated to keep something so important from his oldest friend, but if he told them, and he was wrong, they'd end up suffering the loss all over again.

Plus, he had a more pressing matter to tend to: finding out who this boyfriend of yours was.

The drive to the garage wasn’t long, and he still didn’t know what he was going to say as he walked through the door into the office.

“Hello, I’m Peter. Can I help you?”

Oh, hell no. The guy who approached Bucky had to be somewhere in his early 30s. He felt the air leave his lungs as he searched for the right words. Rage began to build when the guy only rose a brow at him.

“Yeah,” Bucky growled. “Your girlfriend called you earlier for me about some Chevelle parts.”

“My girlfriend?” Bucky noted the man’s confusion, and immediately began to relax. It appeared this was not the man you were involved with. “You must’ve spoken to my nephew. He’s in here.”

The man beckoned him to follow him into the garage, but Bucky stopped short at seeing a familiar figure kneeling on the floor.

HELL

The man reached for the stereo and turned it down. “Derek, this gentleman’s here to pick up some parts.”

“Right.” Derek looked up, the same apathetic expression on his face that Bucky wanted to punch. “For the Chevelle?”

“Yes. You’re- Y/N’s boyfriend?” Bucky asked, almost forgetting to call you the name the boys at the shop used.

At the mention of your name, Derek’s demeanor changed; his features visibly perked and his back straightened. He looked almost proud as he replied, “That’s right.”

Bucky ignored Derek’s uncle when he excused himself to tend to another customer, and only stared at Derek’s retreating back as he went to wash his hands to retrieve the parts for him.

‘Hey, Beautiful’, the words he greeted you with came back to Bucky. He’d heard Derek’s voice before, and he should’ve recognized it, but the tone was different. He sounded pleased, not bored or annoyed like Bucky had heard every other time.

Though he’d only spoken to you for a few minutes, he could tell you were a good, sweet kid. You were friends with the sheriff’s kid for goodness sake! He couldn’t figure how you could get caught up with someone like him; how a hooligan like Derek could even stand a chance with someone like you.

Then he remembered Natasha’s interest in him. Of course that’s what it was. He was big, good-looking, and aloof. A textbook ‘Bad Boy’, and you’d fallen for his charm. The thought made him sick to his stomach, and he was about to storm out when he remembered how he snubbed Natasha. Was it because of you? Somehow, he didn’t see a guy like Derek having any respect for anyone or anything, let alone a high school relationship.

Yet, he didn’t recall ever seeing Derek alone with a girl, nor him paying much attention to the ones who spoke to him. The only time was just before the first game of the lacrosse season, but did that even count? Both girls were made up, with their hair done nicely. Surely they wouldn’t do that if they were playing, thus the jerseys they wore had to belong to their significant others, didn’t they?

Bucky also remembered Derek wearing a lacrosse jersey that day, yet being surprised to see him running down the stands at a later game when Brock tackled another player who turned out to be… a girl. One who had Derek worried she’d been hurt.

“That son of a bitch,” he seethed. God help Brock Rumlow if it turned out it was you he attacked that night.

There was something about the memory of that night that didn’t quite sit well, and just as it was making its way to the forefront of Bucky’s mind, Derek returned.

Bucky looked through what he had, and apart from needing a thorough cleaning, the parts were in fairly good condition. Derek stood by, never rushing him, taking note of what Bucky set aside to purchase. When he finished, Derek gave him an invoice to take to Peter to settle, and returned to his work. Annoyance began to build in Bucky again, watching Derek dismiss him and turn the radio back on like he wasn’t still there.

As Peter was finishing up the transaction, Bucky checked his phone to see if Sharon had gotten in touch yet. She hadn’t. Derek didn’t come out again, so Peter helped Bucky take everything to the truck.

As worried as he was about the situation regarding his Duckling, he couldn’t wait til Peter, his Peter, got back from school to show him what he’d found. He knew it was going to drive him crazy to have to wait until they got back to work on his car, but at least it meant he wouldn’t be sad when it was time to return home.

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

Natasha sat at Peter’s table at lunch the rest of the week, and fewer people joined them. By Thursday, it was only the two of them, Shuri, T’Challa, and Clint left.

Peter was glad Clint made an effort to be friendly, even more so that Nat seemed to respond favorably to the attention. He didn’t want to believe the rumors about Derek, especially after reading about all the awful things he’d been through, but he couldn’t free himself of the sliver of doubt that took residence in his mind.

"Mom?" Peter piped up from the back seat. "Can you drop me off in town? I need to go to the library."

Peggy's eye quickly flicked to him in the rearview. "I'll drop these guys off and bring you after so I can wait."

"It's alright," Peter replied, almost suspiciously quick. "I just have some stuff I want to get done before spring break. I can call Bucky to pick me up when I'm done."

"Nerd," Nat teased, though her usual tone was softened.

"Are you sure?"

"Just drop him off," Nat huffed in annoyance. "Besides, don't you still have stuff to do before we leave?"

"I don't know, I don't really like the idea of you guys being out by yourselves. This place is still new to us."

"The sheriff's station is halfway up the block from the library," Nat said. "How much trouble could he possibly get into?"

At the mention of the station, Peter swallowed thickly and averted his gaze out the window. There was no way Nat knew that's where he really wanted to go, was there?

Peggy sighed, and changed directions toward downtown. “Alright, but as soon as you’re finished, you call someone to come get you, alright? And wait inside until we get here.”

He agreed, and a few minutes later the car pulled up in front of the library. After promising one last time he wouldn’t wait outside, he got out of the car and quickly made his way inside the building. He waited by the windows, watching the car make its way around the parking lot and back out onto the street. Once he was certain the car was well on its way home, he went right back out the door and headed toward the station.

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

The sheriff's shift had only just begun, and he was already reaching for the painkillers in his desk to fend off the looming headache.

"So he was looking at her?" he asked, reiterating his son's claim. "While she was speaking to him?"

"No, he was leering," Stiles corrected. "Like a leering creep."

Noah looked up toward Scott, hoping to get a more factual account than the more-than-likely exaggeration Stiles provided.

"Maybe not leering," Scott admitted sheepishly, "but he was staring pretty intensely the whole time we were there."

"Just at her?"

"Yeah, he barely paid any attention to us," Stiles said, while Scott nodded in agreement. "He didn't even ring everything up right."

Scott cleared his throat, while Noah's eyes focused on his son.

"So you stopped at the shop after your camping trip, and while you and Scott were collecting your items, the owner was preoccupied with Y/N?"

Stiles huffed in exasperation. "Yes!"

"What were you buying?"

Scott tried to hide a smile behind his fist, while Stiles stared back at his father like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Uhhhh…"

"You lost the fishing things again, didn't you?"

"What? No! Ok, maybe like three or four of them, but I think the real issue here is that this guy was leering-"

"Staring intensely."

"Not helping, Scott!" Stiles snapped. "You don't get it. We could've walked out of there with arms full of stuff, and he wouldn't have noticed. This guy was completely focused on her, and it was…" Stiles paused, taking a shaky breath. "It scared me, Dad."

Biting the inside of his cheek, Noah nodded in understanding. "Alright. Where is she?"

"At home. I don't think she saw what we did. Said he seemed nice, but a little out of it."

There was a knock at the door, and an officer peeked in. “Someone to see you, Sheriff.”

“Send them in,” he said, lowering his voice to continue addressing his son. “I’ll look into it. Just keep an eye on her and- Peter! Hello!”

“Hi Sheriff,” Peter waved awkwardly. “Do you have a minute?”

“Yeah, these guys were just leaving. This is my son Stiles and his friend Scott. Boys, this is Peter Rogers,” he introduced, sending Stiles a pointed look. “His family just moved here from New York. They opened that outdoor store just outside of town.”

Peter felt a gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach as the two boys shared a look. They quickly smiled, said their hellos and goodbyes before rushing out the door. He thought he’d paid enough attention when he was doing his research, but apparently he hadn’t.

The sheriff gestured for him to take a seat, but every step he took further into his office felt heavier and heavier. Peter's eyes scanned the room, a mixture of the sheriff’s credentials and family photos adorning the far wall. When they landed on a group photo, Peter swallowed thickly at seeing it was of the boys he'd just met and a girl. The photo next to it was of the same girl, looking pretty cozy with the guy Peter came to talk to the sheriff about.

"Peter? Is everything alright?" Noah asked.

"Um," he faltered, words like 'conspiracy and 'cover up' immediately flashing in his brain. "Yeah, yeah. I just… my family's going to be out of town next week."

Noah could tell when most people were lying, and this kid may as well have had a sign over his head that read "LIAR" as he spoke.

"Ok…"

"I was…uhh…" Peter racked his brain for something, anything that he could say to explain himself. If the sheriff noticed when the light bulb went on, he didn't react. "I was just wondering how safe it’ll be. My house, I mean… Um… you know?”

Noah nodded slowly, trying to figure out what it was the boy really came to say. “You mean, from a robbery.”

“Yes.”

“Well,” he sighed. “It’s pretty safe. I mean, there’s always a chance a window gets left open and a burglar seizes the opportunity. But, it’s more likely that a family of racoons will make themselves at home, or if food gets left in the trash it might attract a bear.” Peter only nodded in response. “If you like, I can send a patrol out once in a while to make sure nothing’s going on.”

He visibly perked, grabbing onto the lifeline the sheriff just gave him. “Yeah! That sounds great, thanks!”

Noah smiled at him, leaning back in his chair to appear relaxed. “What else is on your mind.”

Peter blanched, swallowing thickly. “N-nothing!” he squeaked.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure!” he rapidly nodded, backing toward the door. “Thanks for the patrol. To my house. I have to go now. Homework. Wanna get it done before spring break.”

“Peter,” Noah spoke, stopping the boy’s ramblings. He felt a little guilty at the almost panicked look the boy gave him. “Have fun.”

“Th-thanks. You too. I mean…” He smiled bashfully when the sheriff only waved. “Right. Bye!”

Noah watched him practically stumble over his feet rushing through the door, smile fading once it closed at his peculiar behavior. Still, he made a note to assign a deputy to pass by a few times while the Rogers’ were gone. On a separate note, he wrote another reminder to look into one ‘James Barnes’, not only for Stiles’ peace of mind, but his own now as well.

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

Dinner that night was a hodgepodge of leftovers and any fruits and vegetables in an attempt to clean the fridge of all food that wouldn’t keep while they were away. They got a kick out of it, the twins even cleaning their plates. The only one who seemed not to enjoy it was Peter, who only picked at his food until someone asked if he was alright. If anyone noticed the way he forced himself to finish, they didn’t mention it.

The kids only had one day of school left before break, and the excitement was making it difficult for them to settle down for the night. Eventually, all the kids had made it to bed just after midnight, and Steve and Peggy not long after that.

Bucky was restless, the events of that afternoon replaying in his head. He would nearly convince himself it wasn’t you, then remembered the way you smiled, the sound of your laugh, and the way you stopped when he called after you. It HAD to be you. He didn’t know what to do. He felt useless; the way he did all those years ago when you went missing.

He got out of bed and got his shoes on, quickly throwing a coat on before grabbing his keys. He could at least do what he did last time; search. And this time, he knew he’d find you. This time, he knew you were in town. He descended the stairs, practically tearing the door off its hinges as he flung it open to step outside, nearly ramming into someone standing on the porch.

“Shit!” he hissed, startled. “Sharon?”

She stared at him, wide eyed. “Where?”

Bucky looked behind him into the house, and once he saw no one stirred at the commotion, he quietly closed the door behind him. He took her arm, gently leading her toward what he assumed was her rental car. She unlocked it, and they climbed in.

They sat in silence for a moment; Bucky regaining his composure, and Sharon anxiously awaiting an explanation for the voicemail he left.

“A girl walked into the shop today,” he paused, taking a shaky breath. “I looked at her and I … all I saw was her. Same eyes, smile, everything. Since then, I’ve been trying to decide if it’s in my head, but…” he turned to Sharon, both their eyes now glassy. “I swear it’s her.”

Sharon nodded, wiping her eyes. “Alright,” she said, starting the car. “Let’s go to the store and check out the security footage.”

The car ride was silent, save for the directions Bucky gave to the shop. Inside, Sharon set her laptop up next to the computer in the office while Bucky pulled up the footage. There was no sound, unfortunately, but he didn’t think it mattered when he heard Sharon’s breath catch when you appeared on the screen. The look she gave him made him even more nervous than he was before; it was hopeful.

She copied the video to her own computer, and pulled out a pen and a worn notebook she’d dedicated to your case.

“I need everything, Bucky. No matter how unimportant it may seem.”

Bucky groaned, rubbing his face in exasperation. “I don’t have much. Her name’s Y/N. At least, that’s what the boys called her. She drives a 1953 yellow Skylark.” Sharon let out a low whistle. “Maybe her last name is Lang, maybe she goes to Beacon Hills High, and maybe she plays lacrosse.”

“Anything else?”

“She’s dating some punk, Derek Hale. His family owns a garage over on Evergreen Blvd. And she’s friends with the sheriff’s son.” Sharon frowned at that. “What?”

“That might complicate things,” she said. “He may not take too kindly to me questioning him about her.”

Bucky sighed. “Yeah, but you can submit your findings to authorities and get a warrant, right?”

“Yeah, but do you have any idea how long that takes? And I have to have enough evidence to bring to the authorities in the first place, which will be difficult if-”

“If the sheriff doesn’t cooperate. Right.”

Sharon switched her attention back to her computer. “Bucky, can you keep a secret?”

He looked at her, not bothering to hide his offense. “You know I can.”

“Under oath? If it comes to that?”

“What are you thinking?”

She cast him a determined look; one that people tended to shrink from. “I'm wondering if I can start working or if I need to wait for you to leave the room.”

Bucky nodded, carefully considering his words. “I’ll do anything if it gets her back.”

Sharon hummed in appreciation, pulling up a black screen on her computer. “You gave me a good starting point; the car.” She smiled at Bucky, unable to contain her excitement. “How many cars like that do you think are registered in the area?”

“Not many,” he replied. “Why is this a secret? Can’t you access this stuff legally?”

“Yes, but you have to fill out paperwork, jump through all these legal hoops, and who has time for that?” She typed into the black screen, on some format that looked primitive to what he was used to seeing. “It’s been twelve years, Bucky, and this is still only the beginning. Haven't we waited long enough?”

Before he could answer, the screen pinged, the results of her search popping on screen.

“How ‘bout that? One hit.”

“Registered to Y/N Lang, 31 Windflower Lane, Beacon Hills.” They shared a look, and this time both were grinning. “Wanna go for a quick drive?”

No tags this round, but if you still want to be tagged let me know, just keep in mind it may not be updated for a while.

A/N 3: As previously stated, requester couldn't remember the movie this was based on, so let me know if you recognize it.

#Marvel #Avengers #Teen Wolf #Derek Hale x Reader #Reader #Reader Insert #AU #Duckling

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aturnoftheearth · 3 years

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using the prev tags on a post to give me the strength to continue working <3

#it’s 3am but there’s literally so much to do still so I think I’m staying up al night #all**#and I’m not kidding when i say looking at ‘prev tags’ or someone calling me jay gives me encouragement in real life ksfnkskfk #accidentally typed ‘jar’ friendship with jay over it’s jar now

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marauderundercover · 3 years

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Taking Chances Ch. 2 Finding Out (Family/Friends)

AO3

@maribat-bdbwm

“Mari!” Adrien yells, running past Batman to sweep her up in a hug. Marinette’s face instantly heats up, but she buries herself into the hug. After all, it’s not every day she faces a supervillain determined to kill her with a dangerous weapon...without her suit, anyway.

“I’m okay. I’m okay.” Marinette reassures him, relishing in the comfort. A cleared throat makes her jump back and look at Batman who, despite clearing his throat and cutting off the most amazing hug ever, has no emotions on his face. Whatsoever. Cause that’s not intimidating or anything.

“The police will need your statement, Miss Dupain Cheng.” Batman says. Marinette nods, squeaking when Adrien reaches down and entwines his fingers with hers. Following Batman’s directions to the awaiting police, Marinette feels nerves flood her systerm as she sees the sheer number of officers on the other side of the door. Sucking in a deep breath, she feels Adrien squeeze her hand. Shooting him a thankful smile, Marinette uses her unattached hand to open the door and step out into the mess of personnel. A man with a mustache and square glasses steps forward immediately, his hand extended.

“Hello Miss Dupain Cheng. I’m Commissioner Jim Gordon. We were in communication with Batman while he was inside so we heard some of what happened. Would you be comfortable telling us what happened? We can get you checked over by paramedics first, if you want.” Commissioner Gordon says.

“Oh, no, no. I’m fine. I don’t-” She starts to say, but a gruff voice cuts her off.

“She should be examined immediately, Gordon. She may have inhaled smoke from the smoke bombs due to proximity. She also could have burns to her face or ears from Joker’s gun. He shot it and then proceeded to prod her with it.” Batman says, the last part of his ‘report’ slightly more gruff than the first. Was he…..worried about her? Marinette shakes that thought off almost immediately. Why would Batman be worried about her? Wait, was he really going to make her see the paramedics when all she wanted to do was talk to the officers so she could get back to the trip?

“I assure you, Monsieur Batman, Monsieur Gordon, I don’t need to see the paramedics. I’m a little shaky, but that’s all. I mean, I was held at gunpoint. I think shaky is appropriate, non?” Marinette asks, flashing the two a bright smile. Gordon raises an eyebrow and glances at Batman who shakes his head stiffly.

“She gets examined.” He says, leaving no room for questions as he pulls his grappling hook (?!?!) out and retreats to the rooftop.

“You heard the man. We can talk as you’re examined, if you’d prefer. I’m sure you just want to put this whole business behind you.” Commissioner Gordon says kindly. Marinette sighs in relief and nods, smiling again at the man. Hopefully this would be taken care of quickly. --- Bruce Wayne was slightly panicking, though he would never admit it. When reports of the Joker being spotted at the Gotham City Museum of Modern Art first rolled in, he assumed his biggest challenge would be keeping Jason from murdering the clown. He did not expect to see a small girl being held at gunpoint. A girl who looked like a strange mix between his mother, and someone else. But he couldn’t place his- of course. Memories flood his mind as he thinks back to the woman who was so clearly related to the small girl. Bridgette Le. A woman that he, at one time, thought he would be able to spend the rest of his life with. Until she left Gotham and cut off all contact between the two. Oh god. She wouldn’t….would she? --- “I don’t understand why that older paramedic looked like she’d seen a ghost.” Marinette says with a pout as she continues working on the embroidery for a jacket for Jagged. Design never sleeps.

“What d’ya mean?” Adrien asks from his nest of blankets on her bed. Marinette tries to focus on keeping her blush down. Apparently, the attack at the museum had scared Adrien more than her, though she imagined he was scared on her behalf. But she couldn’t quite understand why...nevertheless, he had become attached at her hip and hadn’t left her side since they got back to the hotel. Even though all she really wanted was a little alone time to talk to Tikki. Especially about the chance of the Miraculous Cure working here. Maybe if she was in the battle…

“Didn’t you notice? He was fine til he looked into my eyes and then he got super pale. He looked like he was going to say something, but Monsieur Gordon stopped him before he could.” Marinette recounts, remembering the way the paramedic had to switch out since his hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

“I didn’t notice that. That’s weird. Anything else happen like that today?” Adrien asks, finally sitting up and giving her his full attention. Marinette pauses her stitching and purses her lips as she runs the days events back through her head. The paramedic. Batman. Joker. Arriving late to the museum. The cab ride. Being left at the hotel. Coffee-

“Well,” Marinette starts, furrowing her eyebrows as she tries to rationalize the man’s actions in addition to the actions of the paramedic. But something wasn’t adding up. “There was my cab ride to the museum.”

“What happened? Was someone creepy? I can fight them for you!” Adrien offers, a little too cheery. Marinette freezes as she studies his face, searching for something. Adrien had been off all day. More protective than he’d been in awhile. And the few times Lila had spoken, he had scowled at her instead of ignored her. Was he finally coming around to the idea that the high road would not work with Lila? Pushing those thoughts off for another time, Marinette shakes her head.

“No, no. Nothing like that. But as I was leaving, he called me Miss Wayne.” Marinette admits, not expecting Adrien’s uncontrollable laughter.

“He, you, oh my god!” He laughs, clutching his sides. Marinette’s eyebrows furrow in confusion as she sets the jacket down on the desk.

“What?” She asks, completely and totally frustrated with the situation. Adrien laughs for another minute before calming down, wiping tears from his eyes and shooting her a blinding smile. Not his model smile. An actual smile that warms her heart and her cheeks.

“I’m so sorry Mari. It’s just, I think he was referring to the fact that you look like the typical kid Bruce Wayne adopts.” Adrien says and Marinette’s blood freezes.

“Did you say Bruce Wayne?” Marinette asks and Adrien nods, his previous mirth wiped from his face.

“Yeah, Mari, are you okay?” He asks. Marinette nods, then shakes her head, then groans and throws up her arms in frustration.

“I don’t know! I just- you remember how I told you I’m adopted?” She asks. Adrien nods, then stops. A look of mixed terror and awe flooding his face.

“Oh god, Mari. You never told me the name. Your birth father-”

“His name is Bruce Wayne. But there’s gotta be hundreds if not thousands of Bruce Waynes in the US right?” Marinette asks, even as her hope in that idea dwindles.

“The US? He’s confirmed from the US?” Adrien asks, already pulling out his phone.

“Yes. Adrien, what are you doing?” She asks, suddenly worried as she jumps onto the bed next to him, desperately trying to see his phone.

“I’m googling Bruce Wayne and Bridgette Le as a combined search. Wayne is one of the most prominent figures in Gotham, all of his previous relationships have photographic evidence. Except for whoever the mother of his youngest is. But that’s probably because he wasn’t in the country at that time.” Adrien says, typing away furiously on his phone. Marinette’s eyebrow quirks up in amusement.

“Since when were you a master researcher?” She asks with a grin.

“Since one of my best friends found out she’s adopted and it could be the man who hosts the only palatable high society parties. Seriously. And they’d be much better if you were there and-holy shit. Your bio mom looks just like you!” Adrien exclaims, turning the phone to her. Marinette inhales deeply and thanks whatever power there is that she’s not in Paris right now. The emotions running over her at an indescribable speed...not all of them are positive. And they’re all overwhelming as she looks at a picture that very clearly shows her bio mom with Bruce Wayne. As in the Gotham Bruce Wayne. Not a different unknown Bruce Wayne across the country somewhere. Nope. A man who is apparently prominent enough that Monsieur Agreste makes his son go to the man’s parties.

“I don’t suppose she just had a type for men named Bruce Wayne?” Marinette says weakly. This was not what she expected. --- This was exactly what he expected. Looking at the birth records for one Marinette Le, where he’s noted as the father. Though why he wasn’t notified before the girl’s custody was signed over to Sabine Cheng, he’ll never understand. His jaw clenches as he continues reading, eyes scanning over Bridgette’s death certificate before glancing back at Marinette’s birth certificate. A daughter. He had a daughter. Another child that he would never be able to hold when they were small. Another child that grew up without him. Another child that he didn’t meet until they were already a person. Someone with their own experiences individual from his own, someone that may not even know he had found them. And that he wanted nothing more than to get to know someone who was brave enough to stand between the Joker and her friends. Someone who was determined not to let what should have been the most traumatic experience in her life be a set back. He had a daughter. And he wanted to meet her.

***

Note, my headcannon is that the paramedic that panicked did so because he was one of the first responders the night that the Waynes were murdered. And while she looks a lot like her birth mom, Marinette also definitely has Martha Wayne’s eyes and the paramedic could NOT deal. Also, let me know if you want tagged!

Tag List: @jjmjjktth

#maribat bruce wayne #maribat #maribat bio dad bruce #maribat bio dad! bruce wayne month 2021 #mbdbwm2021 #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat adrien agreste #day two family/friends

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fukurodanni · 3 years

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love for the rich and emotionally stunted: a comprehensive guide

ch. 1/7 -- prev. -- next. pairing: jumin han x f!reader warnings: n/a series summary: in the months following the incident with his father's most recent paramour, glam choi, the corporate heir of C&R finds himself discovering exactly what it is that makes a person in love so blind. ao3 link

note: office romance slowburn. featuring hallmark tropes and bad flirting. enjoy the ride. hop into my inbox for a tag if you're interested though! kiss kiss.

You don’t mean for it to happen the first time.

Considering the state of your routine and your general efficiency (required when it comes to a job at C&R) it’s easy to say that showing up early is an ingrained habit. It had happened a few times too many when you’d first started working and just sort of stuck. However.

It’s thirty minutes past schedule when you wake up in a state of panic, rushing and grabbing for clothes and keys and wallet before stumbling out the door.

But for as much as you’d worried, it all turns out fine. You’re still on time, a nice man holds the door open for you--you don’t think you’ve seen him before, or maybe you’re so distressed your brain doesn’t recognize the face--and there aren’t any consequences. You don’t get yelled at. You aren’t behind. Really, you should have overslept more often.

So the next day you set your alarm a little later than usual and allow yourself to sleep. It goes much smoother than the day before and you still make it on time, looking much better than you had 24 hours prior. The same man--you think-- holds the door open for you, and you glance back to smile and thank him.

Except you really must have been too stressed to notice because the man you’re staring at is the executive director and immediate heir to C&R.

Your smile falls.

And then you choke out a noise of gratitude that’s supposed to sound like “Thanks,” but the shock in your voice turns it to audible mush. Mr. Han only hums in return and walks past you with all the dignity and poise of a seasoned Calvin Klein model. Your heart hammers with a startling lucidity at the surprise of it all but it isn’t anything that you think much of, so you make it back to your desk on time and it’s all fine, it’s all fine. It isn’t until about an hour later that you realize it’s probably the first time you’ve seen him so close in person.

Not that it matters, of course, but then it does - because it happens again.

And again, and again.

The routine continues for about a week: the “thank you,” the hum of a response, and no further conversation besides that at the door. You’ve gotten to catch longer glimpses of him as this routine has gone on, the shine of his hair, this grey of his eyes, but there’s something that intrigues you infinitely more. You haven’t gotten him to smile and it nags at you, incessant. So you’re determined to do it now.

You crack a joke about his consistency the next time you see him, a smile playing coy at your lips. He just hums again. Killjoy.

“What?”

“What?” You ask, turning on your heel. His voice is much deeper than in the press interviews.

“Were you calling me a killjoy?”

“Not intentionally, no.” You quip back, face feeling hot. You turn again and begin walking back, nursing the humiliation you can already feel pricking at your nerves. “Have a nice day, Mr. Han.”

You think he says something like “You too,” but you wouldn’t notice it over the rush in your ears.

That went well.

Another day passes, another routine, rinse and repeat. He doesn’t seem bothered by yesterday’s incident, so you’re planning to talk to him again tomorrow, just to give it a day in between. It’s going to get annoying soon, but he’s neither fired nor closed the door in your face so in all situations, it really is a win-win.

Jumin Han opens the door for you, wordlessly as ever. You spare a glance at him.

“I’d considered arriving late just to get a reaction out of you, and then I realized that I wouldn’t even be there to see it.” You quirk your head in wait, watching as the corners of his lips twitch into an unwitting smile.

Mirth is very becoming on him, you realize. Oh no.

“I’m sure it would be quite the sight, Miss.” He replies, that same almost-smile creasing a dimple into his cheek. When he nods his good morning and walks off to the tippity-top of the C&R building, all the office lights seem a little brighter in the wake.

You shake yourself from your musings and an intern is already brushing past you in their hurry to return to their place-- wherever that may be, and it reminds you to do the same. C&R International, with all its focus on exports, has a wide breadth when it comes to fashion. Having directed several of its projects, you know this firsthand. You also know that when your schedule isn’t filled to the brim, everything else seems like busywork.

For the first time in a few months you feel like a regular, 9-to-5 office worker.

Additionally, this means that you’ve returned to being hyped up on watery coffee all the time. The building’s cafeteria is a modern marvel in and of itself, overpriced as its food may be. Your break is just long enough for you to catch two-thirds of a meal and a conversation if the mood strikes, otherwise a whole meal and a moment to catch up on social media. Having just passed the two-thirds-meal mark, you’re surprised to see someone else approaching your seat.

Funnily, horribly enough, it’s Mr Han himself, who’s looking at you with the same unbidden curiosity that a child might grant a particularly fascinating caterpillar.

“You work here,” he says, without greeting. It’s an innocent enough statement.

Did he not know? That you work here? Was he under the impression that you’d just started showing up for his own personal amusement and one-sided banter at the beginning of the month?

“Uh,” you say. “Yes.”

He blinks at you. You think for a moment that he might fire you on the spot. You don’t know why.

“I have a lanyard,” you say dumbly, holding it up. You wave it around a little. Mr Han nods, looking professional as ever. “I see,” he says. “Work hard.” And then he leaves, Italian leather on polished marble and all. You still need to finish the rest of your salad.

It’s almost ironic, the fact that you arrive late the next day.

After the strange half-encounter with Mr. Han, you’ve given yourself a moment of contemplation. Surely if the man hadn’t given a second thought to you besides your shared mornings-- not even a minute, besides-- then there wouldn’t be any point in pursuing him any further. He hadn’t even realized you worked there, not really.

Office romances never work out, anyhow.

You don’t even know if it was an office romance that you were pursuing in the first place. Perhaps it would have been nice, just to have another friend at work. Not that you were lacking, only that everyone had already seemed to settle in their routines and you’d been so busy, and well. Some things work out that way, and it’s not like you’re awful at small talk.

You’re running to the door of the office building, shoes clacking noisily against the pavement. You have to open the door for yourself this time.

“I thought you were kidding about arriving late to see my reaction.”

You think your neck just about cracks with the speed you turn to the noise. Mr Han stands not two meters from you, head tilted curiously in that same innocent wonder. He looks sort of sheepish, though you can’t quite figure why.

“I’m, uh--” You stare at him then, really take him in. Nothing comes. “I’m late for work.”

His eyes widen a fraction. And then he starts chuckling, softly, and it’s petrichor after rain, a deep tenor from low in his throat that has you suddenly, instantly warm. It isn’t much, not really.

But then you start laughing too, familiar and gleeful and it’s almost like you weren’t having a deep monologue about him that spanned most of last night. When you meet his eyes again, warm like the earth, it’s enough to boil hope in you, sunlight spilling over.

You don’t know for what yet, but you figure it’s something you’d like to find out.

tags: @vandysgf @banenaz @mrs-han thank u!

#jumin han x reader #jumin x reader #mystic messenger x reader #jumin han x mc #jumin x mc #mystic messenger fluff #mysme x reader #my writing #lftr&ems #emu writes #WC: 1.3K

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write-orflight · 3 years

Text

Light the Lamp: Chapter 1

**Gif Not Mine**

Prev - Next

Pairings: Bucky Barnes X Reader (Friends to Lovers, College/Hockey AU

Rating: M

Words: 2.2K

Warnings: College kids being college kids, drinking, swearing, talk of sex(No smut yet but will be)

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary: Love and Hockey were kind of the same, everyone’s just rushing to score. So why couldn’t you?

A.N Summary bad but I literally couldn’t focus on writing anything else until I finished at least the first chapter of this. let me know what you think, Message/reply/inbox to be tagged.

Chapter 1: 1st Quarter

Hockey wasn’t the sport Bucky wanted to play originally. He wanted to play baseball like his old man but when Steve decided he wanted to take ice skating lessons, he made Bucky tag along so he wouldn’t be the only boy in the class. Soon, they found themselves recruited in the junior rec hockey team and had been playing together ever since. It wasn’t a surprise that when recruitment came around that school’s were trying to pick up both of them. People knew better than to separate Cap from the Winter Soldier. Steve’s nickname was easy to figure out. He had a natural authoritative nature that made him the Captain of almost every team he played on. You never knew why they called Bucky the Winter Soldier until you played against him. Bucky was like an assassin on the ice. While everyone was focused on Steve in Center, Bucky was on left wing scoring the goal before you knew what hit you. So both of them getting recruited to play for the Avengers at Wilmington University wasn’t surprising.

Meeting you was.

At first, it was a sort of form of hazing. When they were starting their Freshman year so was the Coach’s daughter. He had asked senior members of the team to ‘keep an eye on her’ and make sure she didn’t get herself into any trouble. The seniors’ thinking that was lame, were more than happy to pass the task off to the two eager freshmen trying to make a name for themselves. So that’s how it started, The two boys walking you to classes and home from the library late at night, much to your demise.

“I should’ve known my dad was going to do something like this.” You complained when you saw the two boys waiting outside your dorm the first week of classes. “Thanks for coming. But you can tell my dad that I’m not going to be the freak being escorted by hockey jocks everyday.”

“No can do, Doll.” Bucky says. “We leave you, we’re doing drills the rest of practice.”

“Doll? What’re you? A 40s newscaster?” You say, with an annoyed expression walking passed the boys who just followed suit behind you. “Ugh, this is such bullshit. He literally begged me to go to Wilmington and promised I’d be able to have a ‘normal college experience’. What about this is fucking normal?”

“I know it’s less than ideal but hey, we can make the best out of this.” Steve smiles. “I’m Steve, by the way.” He says extending a hand.

You shake it. You couldn’t blame them for your dad not trusting you. “Y/N. You?” You asked the other boy next to you.

“Bucky.” He provides.

“Bucky?” You question.

“Well, it’s James but my friends call me Bucky.”

“And that’s what we are? Friends?” You ask.

“Might as well be, since we’ll be seeing each other a lot this semester.”

And that’s how your semi-unconventional friendship started. Pretty soon, even though your dad had eased up on the 24-hour watch, per your mom's request, you still found yourself walking and getting coffee with the two in the mornings. Even, found yourself waiting in the rinks watching practices so you could hang out afterwards and that became your life for the next two years. Now the three of you we’re entering your Junior year of college. Steve was right back in his title role of Captain, Bucky was now first string Left Wing and you were… still watching from the bleachers. You didn’t mind though, you grew to love the sport due to it being your dad’s profession. Hell, you were on skates before you could even walk. But you never found yourself on the women’s team, Hockey wasn’t something you really wanted to do. You still supported the girls team though, which is why you found yourself watching their practices too.

“Hey, Y/N!” Carol said, skating to the end of the rink where you were sitting next to her girlfriend, Maria. A position you often found yourself in, entertaining player’s girlfriends while they practiced. Maria was cool though, at least you knew about the sport.

“Hey, Marvel.” You called her by her nickname. Thing about Hockey is everyone was called by their nicknames.

“You going to the Sigma Pi party later?” She asks.

“Uh, no one told me about it.” You say, awkwardly.

“I’m telling you now.” Carol says like it's obvious. “You never go out anymore and I refuse to let you become a cat lady before you turn 25. Come over ours at 7, we’ll pregame and head over at 9. What do you say?”

“Fine, I’ll come.” You say.

“Great!” Carol says, pumping a fist before signalling her girlfriend to come closer to the rink. You look away as they kiss. Couples made you uneasy, especially hockey couples. You wanted that more than anything, for your guy to skate up to the gate just to sneak a kiss from you. Not that dating anyone from the team was even an option with you dad coaching. The team saw you as a little sister and if anyone was caught even looking at you in any way, their ass was grass by either your dad or Bucky, who’d become protective of you over the years.

“Marvel, stop flirting with your girlfriend and GET BACK ON THE ICE!” You heard your dad scream.

“Sorry, Couch!” She called. “Sorry, baby i’ve gotta jet. Y/N, don’t forget. 7 o’clock!” She says before skating off.

“I won’t!” You call after her.

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

You can’t help but look at yourself in the mirror awkwardly at the tight Satin dress your roommate, Wanda practically forced you in. You were just going to wear a sweater and jeans, your regular wardrobe but Wanda insisted everyone had seen you in that and what they haven’t seen is you in a dress. Especially, with your new body, you had gotten over the summer working at a sports camp. Who knew running after kids would be such a great form of exercise?

Wanda also did your makeup, something you didn’t typically wear, giving you a natural glow eye, a layer of mascara, and sticky gloss that made your look ‘dewy’ as Wanda described it. You tried to keep your hair in the bun but Wanda insisted you keep your hair down. Saying it made you look hotter, you shrugged knowing you’d have to take her word for it.

The two of you made your way to Carol and Maria’s apartment. Carol swung the door open and looked at you in surprise. “Woah, Ice Baby, you clean up nice.”

“Don’t start, Marvel. And you know how I feel about being called that.” You hated the nickname but since you were the coach’s daughter and you stuck around the rink any chance you got, The seniors had started calling you Ice Baby your freshman year and the nickname unfortunately stuck long after they had gone.

“Right, sorry, I always forget.” Carol said moving out the way for the two of you to come in.

The four of you drink and play games until it’s time to head to the party. You’ve got a pretty strong buzz going as you enter the party and you regret the strappy heels Maria made you borrow before leaving. You’re sitting in the corner when someone comes to sit way too close to you. You look up to see Brock Rumlow, or Rum as the team liked to call him.

“I almost didn’t recognize you, Ice Baby. You look good.”

“My name is Y/N but thank you.” You say, annoyed.

He holds his hands up in mock surrender “I forgot you hate that nickname. Let me bring you a drink to make up for it. What you want.”

“Rum and coke, please.”

“Oh, so you like Rum?” He says, obvious double entendre hanging off his tongue.

“The drink? Yes.”

“You’ll like the man soon enough.” He winks, smirking at the flush that spreads across your cheeks.

The two of you spend the night like that. He brings you drinks and shamelessly flirts with you as you get drunker and drunker. The two of you even dance for a bit in the sea of grinding bodies. Soon you’re telling him a story and a hand drifts to your leg. You turn and he’s much closer to your face than you thought he was.

“Wanna get out of here?” He asks. You nod but before you can even stand, Bucky is there towering over Brock.

“You can leave, Brock. But I’m taking Y/N home.” He says.

Brock rolls his eyes. “Forgot you had a Winter Soldier guard dog. No worries, dude. I’m leaving anyway.” He says, before turning to you. “You’ve got my number, call me if you wanna hang this week.” He says, nodding to Bucky before walking away.

“Ugh, Bucky. What was that for?” You whine, drunkenly.

“You’re drunk. I’m taking you home.” Bucky says. “Come on, stand up.”

You shakingly get up and Buck is there immediately under your arm, his arm around your waist helping you walk out.

The cold breeze hits you as soon as you step foot out the party and take the long trek home.

“I think I drank too much.” You point out.

“You think, kid?” Bucky says. “You’re lucky, I was here meeting Sharon otherwise you would’ve been shit out of luck.”

“Brock would’ve taken me home.”

“Brock’s a lowlife. Don’t worry about him, I’ve got you.”

You sigh. “Sorry for ruining your night with your girlfriend.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll call her when I make sure you get home so if you could pick up the pace.”

“My feet hurt.” You complain.

“Yea, I bet. God, when did you start wearing heels, Doll?”

“I wanted to look good tonight.” You sigh.

“You always look good.”

“Fine, I wanted to look hot.” You provide. “For once, I wanted to be the one guys paid attention to at parties.”

“You can be yourself for that, Y/N.” Bucky says. “You’re a catch.”

“If I was, someone would’ve fucked me by now.” You drunkenly admit. That makes Bucky double-take. “I mean, think about it? 3 years into my college career, I turn 21 in a couple months and still it's where no man’s gone before down there.”

“Y/N, are you saying you’re--”

“A virgin? Yea, Bucky catch up.” You groan at the pain in your feet. Bucky looks and takes sympathy on you.

“Here take off your shoes.” He says, toeing his off as well and sliding them over to you.

“You’re just going to walk barefoot?” You ask, putting on the shoes, holding your heels in your hand.

“Better than you walking barefoot.” He shrugs.

“Anyway, I decided over the summer that maybe I was putting too much thought into it. I mean almost everyone loses their virginity in high school and it's never good, no one ever says their first time was good. I just thought maybe I should just, you know, get it over with.” You slur. “Which is what I was trying to do until you chased my date away. God, you always do that, Bucky.”

“I’m not fighting with you while you’re drunk.” Bucky says, trying to get you to drop the subject but you persist.

“Every time I try to talk to a guy, you butt in--”

“Maybe I wouldn’t butt in if you picked the right guys for you.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the guys I pick! You’re just a cockblock.”

“That’s not true.”

“Yea what about Charles? He asked me on a date freshman year and took it back not even an hour later. I had to beg Steve to tell me why and it turned out that you threatened him if he even thought about going out with me.”

“Y/N, you had just turned 18 and X was a 24 year old senior! I didn’t trust how he was just waiting. So yea, I told him to fuck off. And Rum is an asshole who can’t get a girl to sleep with him unless they’re shitfaced. So yea, I told him to fuck off.” Bucky exclaims as the two of you make it up the stairs to your apartment. “Y/N, you’ll find someone right for you and that right person will make your first time special. I just want you to find someone who’ll make you happy.”

“And I just want you to remember for next time that if you want to tell a girl who she can and can’t fuck, you have Sharon for that. Not me.” You said, taking off the shoes as you arrived at your front door.

“Y/N, wait--” You hear him say but you don’t care, you slam the door in his face regardless.

Who did Bucky think he was? Sure, he was your best friend but so was Steve and he’s not nearly as protective as Bucky was. You honestly couldn’t tell who was worse at this point, your dad or Bucky. You loved both of them but they had the fatal flaw of forgetting you weren’t a kid. You were a woman, a woman with needs. And one particular need you needed to get rid of.

So you picked up your phone and called Brock. Bucky couldn’t be right about everything.

Taglist: @buckybarneshairpullingkink @riverofcrestmont @babymango-writes @astralsaf @gabi-socio @hereforalongtime512

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barns x reader #bucky barns x y/n #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barns x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #captain america #tfatws

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tooruluv · 4 years

Text

Tooru Oikawa x F!Reader ( part 11 )

❝ my love for him is much like winter, a skeleton for the world to see. too bad he never liked the cold. ❞

description: being the neighbor and lifelong best friend of tooru oikawa definitely had it’s perks. you were never an outcast, always had a seat at lunch, got into volleyball games for free. the problem was, however, that being in love with him outweighed those perks. you would never tell him that, though, even if it hurt like hell.

genre: best friends to lovers, angst, unrequited love, fluff if you squint hard enough

word count: 2,611

warnings/notes: the next part is the final part. i feel weird that it’s coming to an end! anyway, i hope you all enjoy. i do want to put a small warning because there is mention of a “crash” in this, but it is only a small part and not anything crazy. love you all! <3

tag list: @afuckingunicornn @maii-flowers @clandestinerays @brownandchill @readeretal @wedojustbevibin @shigarakiskitten @shittykawaa @saeranoppa @srirachibi @tpwkatsumu @sempiternal-amour @bokutos-h0e @pinknugget @intheawks @tori218 @seikamuzu @alexthe80swhore @ghostly-toastie @bumbledunce @pineapplelantern @ella-solei

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You had been spending a lot of time alone, again. To sort your thoughts, to avoid seeing Oikawa for the rest of the weekend, you didn’t know. Either way, you were laying in bed and contemplating how askew your life (your love life in particular) had become.

It never was this complicated before.

In fact, it still wasn’t very complicated.

You had been in love with Tooru Oikawa for as long as you could remember. And apparently, he loved you too. The problem was, he was being a dick. And he hadn’t even realized this “love” until very recently, if the man even knew what it felt like to be in love.

The answer should be incredibly easy: tell him you love him and be together. Because at the end of the day, he was the one you wanted.

Kuroo called you just then.

“Hello, hoodie.” He greeted through the phone. “I know you said you wanted some time to yourself today, but I’m bored.”

“Hello, Tetsurou Kuroo.”

“You sound sad.”

“Oh, you know, just another midlife crisis.” You told him. You didn’t even have the phone in your hand, the device on speaker laying beside your pillow.

“Midlife crisis? Aren’t you a bit young for those?”

“You don’t know how old I’ll be.”

He chuckled. It was short-lived, though, his tone turning serious. “Do you want to talk about it? Meet at the hill?”

“You actually want to listen to me rant about Oikawa?”

“Sure, why not? I told you that I was bored.” A movement behind the microphone. “I’m making sandwiches! Meet you there in 20.”

The hill was beautiful even in the daytime. The city life hectic and full of car horns and chatter below, yet it was quiet there. When you arrived, Kuroo was waiting on a blanket with a plastic bag of sandwiches.

“Now that I have the guest of honor,” He moved over so you could join him. “Tell me everything.”

And you did. You told him about how you have loved the volleyball captain, how you were going to tell him but somehow ended up finding out your best friend was gay, how Oikawa dated Sana, how Sana is cool as hell, how Oikawa had ignored you and broke every tradition and completely threw you off, how you got humiliated by said captain and then kissed by him, how you got drunk and made out, and you even told him how you met someone else who had saved you from drowning yourself multiple times, how confused you were.

Kuroo didn’t interrupt, didn’t ask questions. He just sat and listened until you were done. He gave you subtle nods of understanding during it, but that was more for your sake so you knew he was listening.

Once you finished, Kuroo finally asked a question.

“Okay, I think that there’s only one question I can ask.” He turned to you, eyes gleaming in the sun. “Is it really that complicated, or are you trying to make it complicated because you’re scared that actually going through with your feelings would change things even more?”

For that, you didn’t have an answer. You just stared at him, eyes staring into his as though he knew the answer you were searching for. Which he did.

“Kiss me.” Kuroo said suddenly.

Your eyes widened in confusion. You spluttered, “I don’t… why would I… what..”

“It’s for science.” He said, not once moving an inch from his spot.

You scoffed. “For science.”

“If you kiss me and feel either nothing or guilty, it means you want Oikawa and I was right.” Kuroo spoke as if he was giving a presentation and not literally asking you to kiss him. “If you kiss me and you like it and I’m a better kisser than Oikawa, looks like you have obtained a new and extremely good looking boyfriend.”

“You’re ridiculous.” You didn’t move from your spot, either. “I just. I don’t want to kiss you and leave you hanging or like… lead you on? I know that…”

“Babe, I’m literally asking you to kiss me.”

“I know but…”

“Seriously I’m not going to be mad or expect you to…”

You kissed him. You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his. He was sitting cross-legged, and you had put your hands on his knees to give you that extra height to reach him. It only took him a second of surprise before he kissed you back, hands immediately going into your hair and on your neck.

His lips were soft, softer than Oikawa’s. Kuroo was soft in general, his kisses small and many instead of long and passionate. His hands were hovering over your jaw when Oikawa’s were everywhere he was offered.

You were comparing him to Oikawa. You were the one who pulled back.

A breath of air. Your stomach churned.

“…So?” Kuroo asked, chest visibly showing his beating heart. “What did you think?”

“I think you’re a good kisser.” You smiled. “But…”

“But you feel bad?”

“No it’s not that.” You stayed beside him, looking at his hands in yours. You played with his fingers. “I was comparing. Like it was a competition.”

“Comparing me to Oikawa?” Kuroo nodded, thinking. He looked back to you, smile plastered on his lips. “Who’s better?”

“Don’t ask me that!” you threw his hands back into his lap.

“Oh, c’mon. I need to know.”

“Too different.” Was your only explanation.

“Can I tell my friend that you said I was better? He would literally pee himself in happiness.”

“Fine.”

Suzuki Sana arrived at Oikawa’s house that day. It was a quick visit, to give him back some things and get back a couple of things she had left at his. They may not have dated for long, but they had done… a lot. Even before.

“Sorry for bringing you into all of this.” Oikawa told her.

“I’m sorry for being your first girlfriend when your first girlfriend should’ve been the girl next door.” Sana replied.

The friendship between Tooru Oikawa and Hajime Iwaizumi was never complicated, at least between them. Oikawa was the flirty, arrogant, leader and Iwaizumi was the one who brought him back to earth when his head got too inflated. It had always been that way.

Even back when they were kids, just throwing around volleyballs and running around on the playground Iwaizumi was always the one.

When Iwaizumi first met him, Oikawa was standing on the playground’s monkey bars claiming to be the King of the Playground. Iwaizumi told him that he wasn’t and to let the other kids play. To which, young Oikawa replied “There is a princess in need of saving! Help me save her, Jester!”

The princess being you.

You sat in the circle tower on the playground by the slide, pretending to beg for help. Oikawa only left the monkey bars to come “save” you, bringing you down the slide with him. Iwaizumi was at his side, actually laughing when they all got stuck in the middle of the slide and having to scoot the rest of the way with their feet.

“What is your name, Jester?” Oikawa asked.

“Hajime Iwaizumi!”

“Iwa, you are now our friend!” Oikawa introduced you to him.

That was the start of it all, for the most part. After that, the three of you were inseparable, your parents easily greeting Iwaizumi’s into their Adult Friend Group. There were play dates, birthday parties, summer trips, long volleyball tournaments, all together. They say, “two’s company, and three’s a crowd”, but the three of you made nearly a perfect unit together.

Things were different now, full of weird unsolved emotions and secrets that are no longer secrets. And Iwaizumi was so tired.

“Hey, Oikawa.” Iwaizumi said during the end of practice. They had stayed back, practicing a little more just the two of them.

“Whoa, you called me my actual name.” Oikawa replied, grabbing the next ball from the basket. “What’s up?”

“Are you actually in love with her or did you just say that to make her feel better?” He paused. “Or to make yourself feel better?”

Oikawa froze in his spot, ball empty in his hand. His voice was the smallest Iwaizumi had ever heard it. “Why would you ask me that?”

“Because she’s been in love with you for forever, and you have never been in love before.” Iwaizumi said simply, shrugging. “I don’t want to see her hurt anymore.”

“Iwa.”

“Listen, all that I’m asking is do you actually love her?”

“Yes.” It was a fast response, quick and final. “I didn’t know it before, but I know I am now. I heard that she cried over me and I felt like digging my own grave. Whenever she smiles at me from the bleachers at the games, or when she fixes my tie, it makes me want to giggle like a little schoolgirl. I know you’re worried, I know that. But I’m trying to fix things. I’m trying to make up for a lot of lost time I didn’t even realize I was missing.”

Oikawa looked back to the ball. “She hasn’t told me herself that she’s in love with me too. I fucked things up, I took out frustration and confusion out on her that I shouldn’t have. I’m waiting for her to come to me first.”

“Okay.” Iwaizumi grabbed his own ball. “Okay, okay. I needed to know, to be sure.”

“I know.”

You went on a walk with Kuroo through the city streets after the picnic. He put the empty bag and blanket into his backpack, taking your hand to help you up. It was a beautiful day.

“You should come to the tournaments this Wednesday.” Kuroo said. “Nekoma is versing Seijoh, you get to see me beat the love of your life’s ass.”

“I don’t know about that.” You joked, nudging him. “I’ll definitely be there. You can’t be mad if you see me cheering for both teams, though.”

“When she supports you.”

“Shut up.”

You walked for a bit more, taking the longest way home you could. You talked a lot, joked around and pointed out shops and restaurants to try. You even went by the Sakanoshita Store. Your favorite man wasn’t even working at the time.

It was nearly sunset when you ended at your doorstep. You suddenly had a realization that you were wearing his hoodie.

“Oh, shit.” You started to bring your arms through. “Do you want your hoodies back? Now that you…”

“Babe, nothing has changed between us.” Kuroo shoved the red back onto you. “Friends before all else. And you get to keep the hoodies. As friends.”

“Friends before all else.”

As soon as you walked through the doors, your mom announced that your family would be eating BBQ with Oikawa’s as a “Family Sunday Fun Night” (her words, you cringed). Usually these dinners were planned, but sometimes your mom liked to “switch things up, keep things spontaneous” (also her words).

You tried not to be awkward around Oikawa, but it was a bit hard when he wouldn’t stop staring at you and not coming to you. His brother noticed, of course, because he notices everything.

“You two did something, didn’t you?” His brother asked from behind you.

“You would be the one to say something about it.” You felt him put his arm around your shoulders (it runs in the family, Oikawa’s mom does it too). “Is it that obvious?”

“It’s a little obvious to someone who knows.” He brought his head a little closer just in case. “Did he finally find out he loved you, too?”

“We kissed.” You confessed. “Multiple times.”

“Oh, even better. Next question: why aren’t you together?”

“I thought it was complicated.” You leaned closer to him. “It isn’t, though.”

“Send me the pinterest board for the wedding.” He said to you at the same time Takeru ran to him.

“Daddy!!” Takeru jumped into his arms. “Uncle told me to run over and ask what you guys are talking about.”

“Of course he did.” He took a step back and turned around, looking at you over his shoulder. You sent him a look as he went back into the house.

You had crashed into Iwaizumi’s house before. It was nothing crazy, just a kid on a four-wheeler for the first time.

Oikawa’s older brother had gotten two four-wheelers for his birthday and gave you and Oikawa a (very brief) run down on how to drive it before sending you both off in them. The four-wheelers only went so fast, and it was very easy to start and brake, it was made for kids of course.

However, you happened to get the one that didn’t run the best. The brakes didn’t work as well as they should’ve.

So, as you tried to catch up to Oikawa (who just drove full speed into Iwaizumi’s backyard to show off), you couldn’t stop in time and crashed right into their gutter that drained the water from the roof.

Iwaizumi’s parents rushed out, promising you that it was perfectly fine and not to worry about it. But you were on the ground, covered in mud.

Oikawa was the one who rushed to your side like he was an active doctor, asking you if you were okay and telling you to stay awake like you were dying. He always was the dramatic one.

Sometimes, you can still see the small spot where you crashed into the corner of Iwaizumi’s house. Oikawa had always been your knight in shining armor, even if he was the one who got you into a majority of the messes you ended up in.

You sat in Oikawa’s room for the millionth time, feeling out of place as if it was the first time. Like you had to ask permission to breathe his air or look at his generic blue plaid bed comforters.

He noticed.

He patted the place beside him on the bed, and you obliged. The entire room smelled like him, overwhelming your senses. Oikawa always smelled like mint and flowers.

“I kissed Kuroo today.” You said. The first thing you’ve said to him since your little… movie night.

“Okay. You…kissed Kuroo today.” Oikawa repeated. He didn’t have any emotion in his voice but you knew him better than that. “I guess I can’t really say anything about that.”

You rolled your eyes, sending him a smile. You placed your hand on top of his, in his lap. He looked down at you.

“It wasn’t like that. Kissing Kuroo made me realize something.”

“Listen, if you want to date him I’m not going to blame you. I’ve literally come to your house in the middle of the night to escape some girl in my bed while you were in love with me and…”

“I’m going to stop you there, overthinker.” You focused on your hands, rubbing your thumb along a vein on his hand. “Now it’s you who’s saying that I was in love with you.”

“Hm?” He was lost.

You looked up at him again. “You used past tense. As I was going to say, kissing Kuroo made everything very clear for me and I realized that I haven’t told you something that I really should’ve told you years ago.”

“Oh god, it’s happening.”

“I’m in love with you.”

“Well, that’s fortunate.” Oikawa sighed, bringing his hands to your face and tracing the outline of your lips with his thumb. “Because I happen to be in love with you, too.”

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sunflowerheartsandstarryskies · 3 years

Text

The Devil and the Mermaid - Chapter Three: Lucifer x Mermaid!Reader

Warnings: None

Author’s Note: Hehe, I’m back??? kinda anyway, I had gotten some energy and motivation to finish up chapter three, while also getting ideas on where the goal of this series is headed. The inspiration here came from a dream of mine, also one of my favorite shows “The Legend of the Blue Sea” has some heavy inspiration in here as well. Thank you so much for the support in the first parts! I will also create a tag list for this story since I saw someone interested in that. Again I love reading your guys’ comments and if you want to be part of a tag list for this series please let me know :) Thank you so much for all the new followers and notes!!

Prev Chapter | Next Chapter

Taglist: @magnet-girl

_______________________________________________________________

You woke up when a blinding light hit your face, you let out a groan and opened your eyes. You looked up to see Lucifer was the one to open up the blinds with a big grin on his face. “Good morning sleeping beauty, you gotta get up because we got some things that we need to get for you if you are planning to stay here with me,” he points to a closet, “Go in there and pick whatever you want.”

You begrudgingly stretched and rolled off the bed, when you walked to the closet you caught your reflection and you got a huge smile on your face. “The moon really did grant my wish! This isn’t just a dream!” you squealed and with more enthusiasm, you went to open the closet.

You didn’t know what over half of the stuff in there was or how you were supposed to put it on your body, so you just looked over at Lucifer with a sheepish look in your eye. He sighed playfully and he goes, “Oh alright, I thought you might have some ideas, why don’t you wear one of my dress shirts and I think I can find sweatpants for you somewhere.”

So after some time of debating in his head on what would look best on you, and with some comments coming from you, Lucifer managed to put on the outfit for you as well as some very unfitting shoes.

With all that settled Lucifer clapped and then escorted you towards the elevator as he says, “We are going to be getting you clothes for you as well as actual good shoes for you. As a human, you need to protect your feet so it won’t get hurt. We may even get some breakfast or lunch depending on how long we’re out.”

“That sounds awesome, but how can I help you with that? Don’t people buy things with something? I’ve seen humans use green things to get things, I don’t have any of that,” you questioned as you tilted your head.

He just lifts his hand as he tutted, “Don’t worry your pretty little head about a thing like that, and might I add how perceptive you are of humans, it’s quite impressive.” You blushed at his compliments and he grinned when he saw your red face.

“Now, let’s get going, shall we? I had my whole schedule clear for you, I want to make your first day in the human world a good one,” he said as he walked with you to the elevator.

As Lucifer kept spending more time with you the more he felt entranced by you, your beauty, curiosity, and just absolute adorableness. ‘Maybe you were a siren instead of just a mermaid?’ he thought.

The first stop of the trip was a shoe store and he let you pick whatever you thought looked the nicest, which there were some boots, high heels, and a pair of sneakers. It was pretty awkward for both of you to try to figure out what size shoe you were but you ended up getting it right for all the pairs of shoes you got.

The next stop was you ending up going clothes shopping, never in all your life had you seen so much life before, well not aquatic or marine life that is. You were at a mall, and all the smells and sights were flooding your senses and you felt so giddy at everything around you. Lucifer found you incredibly adorable to watch as you found your way through the mall. He noticed that you did have some odd effects on aquatic creatures, like koi.

After shopping for quite a bit both of you were pretty tired from all the shopping and there was a seating area near a koi pond. Lucifer has sat by here before, he found the little koi to be rather serene so he wondered what you would think of them. After a while of you staring at them you turn to Lucifer and say, “They’re very homesick, they don’t like it here. Well at least the oldest ones don’t, the kids don’t seem to mind they like watching people.”

“Oh? You speak fish?” He asks with a smile. You scrunch up your nose at him and replied, “Something like that, my clan we are more attuned with speaking to dolphins, whales, and sharks but when you get to be surrounded by so many different species you learn to pick up a thing or two.” Lucifer gives a hum in response and nods his head as if he’s thinking about what you said.

After a couple of moments of you having a conversation with the eldest koi, who calls himself Melvin, Lucifer decided that he would treat you to some lunch. “Now what is it that you normally eat?” he questioned. “Well depends on where we are, sometimes we can only eat the plant life, other times there will be an abundance of fish that we can eat and still keep the local life sustainable,” you explained. “I think you might like sushi, it’s fish mixed with other human food, it can be quite good,” Lucifer grinned. With that being said he took off in the direction of the sushi place, and you followed along with him.

You ate with your hands and stuffed your face full of the delicious food that you got there. Much to the amusement of Lucifer, who had tried to teach you how to use chopsticks. Your eyes are bright with delight from all the good food you had and Lucifer cracking jokes with you, even if you don’t understand most of what he is trying to say to you.

As you were walking back you felt that someone was following the both of you and you tried to get Lucifer’s attention to notice that someone was following you at the tail end of your trip. Lucifer snuck a glance at who you thought might be following you, he let out a long sigh and he rolled his eyes. “Stay close to me,” he told you as he turned fully around with arm blocking you protectively.

As the creeper approached you, you recognized them as the woman from Lucifer’s place earlier, you think he called her “Maze”. She swaggered forward to the both of you, and Lucifer said exasperatedly, “What do you want, Maze?” “I’ve just been keeping tabs on the two of you, wondering what it is about this one that you seem so keen on keeping this time,” Maze taunted as she stuck out a finger towards her.

You just look up at Lucifer with a curious tilt to your head wondering what in the moon’s light is she talking about? Lucifer shrugged his shoulders at you while he went back to Maze. “Look Maze, you are going to have to get used to her being around the club and me. She is-you are,” as he turns to you, “amazing and has reinvigorated me with energy that I haven’t felt in years. Not even the humanity that the detective seems to inspire within me, but (Y/N) here is simply extraordinary, now what is exactly your problem with her? I’d like to get this over with now. I don’t want any miscommunication from us.”

“Does she know who we are? What we are? I don’t want you to forget what your responsibilities are while we are here. And what about your precious detective? Hmmm? Have you tossed her aside while you picked up this new plaything?” Maze sneered.

You pursed your lips as you were observing what was going on, even if you were new to this whole human emotion thing, you can easily tell that Maze was giving off a vibe of her defending her territory, what territory she was defending you couldn’t tell. You left this conversation to Lucifer, not knowing how to appease this strange woman. Was she like Lucifer, you wondered, because of her line of questioning you assumed so.

“Yes, she knows about me that is a part of the reason why I like her so much, I doubt the detective would be so at ease with me if she found out about who I was. However, she doesn’t understand our world or the rest of the world for that matter. I would also like to emphasize a point I made last night, I do not like the tone you have with (Y/N) fix it. She is not my ‘plaything’ as you so delicately put it. She’s a confidante of sorts for now,” he rectified.

As his answer seems to register to all of you, Maze crossed her arms as she gives a hum of acknowledgment. Lucifer took your hand in his and started to walk away from Maze, seemingly ending the cold confrontation.

You looked back at Maze who glared at you but sighed in resignation as she walked in the other direction of you guys.

When you guys got back to LUX anxiety seemed to be creeping up on you as the conversation kept sinking further into your mind, but you tried to be strong because of your faith in what the moon brought you to. Your clan didn’t believe in much but it believed in the powers of the moon because it had given you protection and gifts in many varieties.

So, you just had to keep pursuing what your heart was after, and your heart was after Lucifer. You just hope that your faith and love was strong enough for you to stay on land, for the sake of both of your futures together you hoped so.

#lucifer #Lucifer Morningstar #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer netflix #x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer imagine #lucifer x you

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radioduo · 3 years

Text

i was there in your forgetting (until i was forgot) || dsmp become human

word count: ~1,900

notes: woo!! the title is much different from the others but i think i like it more lmao anyway, hopefully this is good? i wrote it kind of early in the morning lmao

warnings: i guess it counts as a hostage-type situation, but i don’t know what to call that exactly, so i won’t tag it, just be warned! there is also a brief mention of smoking

first // prev // next

Ranboo had forgotten how much distaste he had for rain until he was on his own. It was still dark outside, a little past midnight if he were to guess. Streetlights and storefronts stayed illuminated, luckily for him. Ranboo sat outside a café under a rain-soaked umbrella as he planned his next move. Niki had told him which way to go, but now his only issue was finding the right direction. He had never ventured far in the city before by himself. Now he was by his lonesome with no guidance and no idea where he was going.

He removed his gloves and absently traced a finger along the edges of the metal table as he murmured directions to himself. “East… Camden, and then north to-”

“Ferndale?”

Ranboo froze. He slowly turned his head around to look at the person behind him. A tall ginger man with white streaks in his hair stood behind him, his backlit up by the light of the café. He had a curious look in his dark brown eyes as he looked at the masked android. “Who are you?” Ranboo demanded.

The ginger didn’t answer right away. He wandered over to the seat on the opposite side of Ranboo and sat himself down before replying, “I’m Fundy,” he said. He must have noticed Ranboo’s unease because he quickly added, “Don’t worry! I’m an android too.” He held up his gloved hand. Ranboo watched in surprise as the “skin” retreated from his hand to reveal the porcelain white layer below. Fingerless gloves covered most of his palm, but Ranboo could tell that Fundy wasn’t lying. The newcomer’s LED blinked from under his black cap. “I was passing through here and noticed you sitting alone. I thought you might like some company,”

The tension in Ranboo’s shoulders was easing up a little. “Okay. If that does happen to be true, how did you know I was going to Ferndale?” he asked, narrowing his eyes behind his shades. “You shouldn’t have been able to know that.”

Fundy shrugged. “I have my ways,” he said airily. Mischief gleamed in his eyes. “You’re gonna want to get patched up before going on that trip,” Fundy suggested. “I can see the scarring on your hands.” Fundy pointed to Ranboo’s hands where the skin layer rippled like water over his knuckles and joints. “Doesn’t exactly seem like you’re in good shape,”

Ranboo grimaced beneath his dual-colored mask. “If you knew about the night I’ve had, you wouldn’t be surprised,” he muttered.

Fundy laughed, a sound reminiscent of a fox squeak. “Uh-huh?” His tone was light and playful. “Well, I’m sure it was terrible, but that’s not why I’m here.” He leaned forward in his chair. The light from the stores illuminated the ginger's face. “I know a guy who can fix you up,”

“Huh, that sounds trustworthy, for sure,” Ranboo twiddled his fingers. Fundy was treading a thin line between truth and deceit. “...who do you know?”

----------

“Ah,” Ranboo sighed. “I see.”

He looked down at the slip of paper Fundy had handed him before disappearing. The address was correct, so why did it feel so wrong to be there? The android looked back up at the looming building. It was not the most threatening exterior. The walls were white brick, and the front door was a cheery shade of yellow. Rain blurred some of his vision, but he could see a garden in the back of the house. An iron gate and an intercom blocked the entrance. Haltingly, Ranboo pressed a button on the keypad. A raucous buzzing sounded from the speakers.

Suddenly, a voice cut through the crackling static. “Can I help you?” An unknown woman asked. She had an accent from somewhere Ranboo couldn't put his finger on. Somewhere southern, perhaps?

O Yes

X No

Ranboo rubbed his hands together nervously.

O Yes

“I think you can. At least, someone told me you could,” he stated. He noticed his face on a small screen, presumably the woman's view of him. Ranboo noticed how disheveled he looked, hair mussed up and clothes dirty. He frowned beneath the mask.

There was a pause, and then, “Honey, I don’t know what you think this place is, but I suggest you go home for the night. I don’t appreciate you kids playin’ tricks on me.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” He held a hand up in desperation. Removing his glove, he put his scarred hand up to the screen. “I need your help,” he said quietly. “Please?”

There was an awkward silence, and with no warning, the iron gate began to slide open. Ranboo breathed a sigh of relief. He approached the front door brightly. He was about to knock, fist poised over the door when it suddenly swung open to reveal a tall blonde woman.

“Hello, darlin’,” she drawled. Her accent was much thicker in person, and clouds of cigarette smoke puffed from her mouth now and then. “Come on in! Make yourself at home here. I’ll get my husband and he can fix you right up,” she explained, ushering him into the house.

O Accept

X Refuse

Ranboo cast an anxious glance behind him. As predicted, he was alone with no one but the lady and the rain for company.

O Accept

Ranboo followed the blonde into the living room. He had to admit, the home was comfortable. The fireplace was roaring, and there were throw blankets and pillows scattered around the couch. “Th-thanks?” He called after her as he watched the woman vanish into the next room. He sat in a pillowy chair tentatively and glanced around.

The curtains were smoky gray, and the wooden floors were were the color of freshly made caramel. There was a record player in the corner with shimmering golden accents. Vintage, he noticed. It was made in 1996, if he had to guess, about thirty years ago. A low tune was playing quietly that almost felt foreboding. Ranboo was about to get up and inspect the purple and white striped disc when the door was cast open.

“Well, well, well!” A deep, booming voice cut through the soft music. A man in a cream button-down shirt and suspenders made his grand entrance and set himself on an armchair across from Ranboo. “I hear we have a visitor? It’s nice to meet a young android like you. I’m Alan Devon, and this is my wife Adeline.” he gestured to the blonde lady that stood behind him. He held a hand out to the brown-haired android.

Ranboo took the man’s hand and eyed him cautiously.

Alan Devon

Age: 51

Height: 6’2”

“Nice to meet you too, sir,” Ranboo replied slowly. “I, uh, I heard that you were able to do android repairs?” He said, fiddling with his gloves.

Alan chuckled. “Not just able, son, I’m an expert at this sort of thing. I used to be the second in command at CyberLife. I helped design the very first android ever created, TU880?” Silence met his words, and he continued talking. “What I’m trying to say is that I am more than qualified to fix up your hand.” He stood up from his white armchair and headed towards a door at the back of the room. “If you follow me, we can get started on repairs right away!”

Ranboo watched Alan descend the dark staircase. The sensible part of his mind told him to run.

O Follow him

X Don’t follow him

Considering the night he’d had, Ranboo couldn’t exactly say he was feeling sensible.

O Follow him

He pulled himself off the couch and past the record player. Mellohi, he noted. Huh. With a deep breath, he gripped the railing and followed after the middle-aged man, a quiet determination settling in him.

The flight of stairs was shorter than he expected. At the bottom of the steps sat a large room full of spare parts and pieces of androids. Strewn about the room were LEDs, thirium pumps, and audio processors. Ranboo almost tripped over a stray limb. He shuddered in disgust.

“Here,” Alan pointed to the large machine at the front of the room. “Step up onto this and we can get started,” he ordered coldly.

Ranboo did as he was told, albeit reluctantly. He gasped in surprise as robotic arms grabbed his wrists and pinned them to his side. Another arm placed itself firmly on his head, keeping it still. “What is this?” Ranboo asked shakily.

Alan didn’t respond for a second as he pressed an array of buttons on a keypad next to Ranboo. Finally, he looked back up at the captive android with his too-wide smile and too-bright eyes. “Don’t you know, son?” He asked. “Lesson one: never trust a stranger,” he pressed a green button on the keypad. “Or anyone, for that matter.”

The machine jerked Ranboo's head back swiftly. “What are you doing?” he yelped. The robotic arm was sifting around through the wires and gears in the android's neck. “Aren’t you-”

“No talking,” Alan said firmly, which Ranboo assumed was his polite way of telling him to shut the hell up. “We don’t take kindly to androids in my house, you hear?” He muttered something to himself as he wandered away from where Ranboo was struggling on his own. “Androids were my idea! Who do you think gave that blue-eyed bastard the idea to build that piece of rubbish? Not to mention one of your kind killed my son.”

Ranboo stiffened as the metal claw poked his memory card. “What are you talking about?

Alan dodged the question. “I’m wiping your memory. Once that’s gone, you’ll forget you were ever a deviant, and I can dismantle you.” He smiled. “I’m going to build the most sophisticated piece of AI with these spare parts, mark my words.” He smoothed the wrinkles in his shirt. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get a drink. Don’t even think about leaving, or you’ll be sorry.”

Ranboo wasn’t sure what awaited him if he tried to leave, but he was willing to risk it if it meant freedom. As soon as his captor was out of sight, Ranboo began struggling against the metal claws that held him in place. The machine gripped his memory chip and began to pull. Ranboo winced and tried to move his neck away, but to no avail. The chip disconnected from his system, and Ranboo could feel his memories corrupting.

All the faces he used to recognize blurred together. Niki, Sam, Fundy, slipping away like sand through his fingers. He grimaced as he felt the metal claws relax their grip on his arms and head. Ranboo wriggled his way out of their grasp and stepped down from the platform. He had a minute before all of his system memory was corrupted. Ranboo frowned as he grabbed the memory card. He wasn't able to put it back in himself. He pocketed it and looked around. His adrenaline was fading, and with it went his memories. He scanned the bleak basement. His options were limited. Wait for the Devons, escape through the front door, or find-

The back door, he thought as a plain white door caught his eye. Hope blossomed in his chest again. I can leave.

He rushed to the door silently and was about to tug on the handle when he heard the door open again. Ranboo tensed.

O Leave

X Stay

#ranboo #dream smp #dsmp #dream smp writing #dsmp become human #my writing #ask to tag

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seihun · 4 years

Text

can i be your boyfriend? — a bbh social media au

ϟ prev ◂ part 15B ▸ next

ϟ pairings: byun baekhyun + oc:reader

ϟ word count: not too long, hopefully, because this is supposed to be a social media au (2.6k)

ϟ notes: hello! look at me, writing things out on this fake text blog, and updating before midnight. i don’t usually do this, but somethings are better said in incoherent paragraphs than in screenshots, plus it’s hard to convey the in-between steps of a relationship through just texts, so i hope you enjoy this insight into their budding relationship 🤗 more notes at the end!!

MONDAY.

“How exactly is it that you started working at Buzzfeed?” you question, reaching over a pillow to dip your bread in olive oil.

Baekhyun watches with amusement as you whine audibly when some runny oil drips from the bread onto your jeans. The indoor picnic he’d set up is pretty damn great if he does say so himself—blankets, pillows, and enough Italian food to feed a small army; and you, of course.

It’s another one of his many, many dates with you—or at least, he’s pretty certain they’ve been dates. Hearing you confirm that you like him was definitely a confidence booster, and reassuring, to say the least, but if Baekhyun’s being completely honest, he’s not sure where to go from here.

He likes you, he knows that much. He likes you a lot; a lot, a lot—(“You’re halfway in love with her, call it what it is,” Minseok said, before getting his ear pinched by Maize)—and he definitely loves spending time with you, and if you asked him, he’d say you’re dating casually, but would you agree?

It’s not like he would know, this is his first serious sort-of-relationship, after all. Baekhyun was never exactly the most suave kid back in high school; more clumsy and awkward than anything with anyone who wasn’t Kyungsoo. He’s not a complete novice; he’s been on dates, gone out, even had a few one night stands in his freshman year, but nothing close to this—whatever it is he has with you—so sue him for basically winging everything for these past two months.

“Honestly,” he recounts, “I did what you did. I complained publicly about one of their posts, and someone DMed, and eventually offered me a job, and here I am.”

“Wait, that’s not fair!” you whine, “Nobody wanted to pay me for my complaint tweets!”

“Well you should have tagged the VP of the company, not me.”

Baekhyun laughs while you pout, toothy smile diminishes into a closed lip one, as his eyes glaze over and flutter between your eyes and your lips. He finds himself leaning in after you, a nervous kind of excitement taking over him as you grow closer. And it’s just barely after his lips have grazed yours that you’re both interrupted by the buzzing and ringing of a cellphone.

You seem to know that it’s your phone, if the crinkling of your eyebrows and embarrassed exhale are anything to go by. Baekhyun simply chuckles, gently presses his index finger to the tip of your nose, and pulls away with a smile.

He watches you fetch your phone, and reluctantly answer the call—which, appears to be a FaceTime judging by the noise and the distance with which you hold your phone from your face.

“Chanyeol, if you’re trying to let Sehun win best friend of the year, you’re succeeding,” are your first words, and Baekhyun can’t help the audible laughter that leaves his mouth.

It doesn’t go unnoticed by you, or Chanyeol. “Who’s laughing, are you—is it the Buzzfeed boy? Oh, is this is a date? Baekhyun are you listening! Hello! My name’s Chanyeol, and I’m—”

“I’m going to hang up on you, what do you want!” you hiss.

Baekhyun finds himself smiling throughout the rest of your conversation. He likes that you’re comfortable enough to answer Chanyeol in front of him; he thinks that if Maize or Kyungsoo or Minseok called him, he’d pick it up in front of too. He’s not too sure about Junmyeon, though, he’s more likely to embarrass him.

Baekhyun hopes he can stick around long enough to meet the rest of your friends—from what you’ve told him about them, they sound like just the kind of people he likes having around. And after hearing how long you’ve been friends with them, namely Sehun, he finds himself even more understanding of your dynamics.

Not many people get just how deep a friendship can run, so when he tells people he’s known Kyungsoo for as long as Kyungsoo’s been alive, their reactions are surface level at best. But you get it, because Sehun is your Kyungsoo; or, rather, you’re Sehun’s Kyungsoo. Baekhyun shakes his head at the thought—the point is, you’re both similar in that respect, and he likes it. He likes you.

“Anyway,” he tunes back into to hear Chanyeol sighing, “I just wanted to let you know I burned the bear, so our apartment smells like smoke, which makes Sehun and I homeless for the evening, so we’re at your place, please bring dinner.”

“What do you mean you burned it! Chan—”

“You know, as in we lit it on fire. Sehun also wanted to throw it off the roof, but Chungha stopped him, so we just did it our living room, and now she’s being a meanie and saying she can’t help refuge us because she has a ‘group project’ meeting at her place in an hour, which I think is a lie. Baekhyun, if you’re still listening, I want you to know that I’m not a pyromaniac—”

“—Debatable—”

“I’m not. Anyways, bring food when you’re done flirting, Sehun and I are hungry, and Chungs is leaving us foodless, as per usual.”

“Then buy food.”

“Do I look rich to you?”

“Yes, actually—”

“Hyung—oh, hey, is that _____?” Sehun’s voice asks, “Hey, Chanyeol finished the gummy worms, can you—”

“I’m hanging up!”

Baekhyun watches with light in his eyes as you hurriedly end the call, then sheepishly turn back to him. “I am… so sorry they’re like this,” you apologize, putting your phone back face down on the blanket and composing yourself.

Baekhyun shakes his head, “Don’t worry, my friends are much worse.”

“Your friends are smart,” you reason, “And quiet, and don’t break into my apartment at their earliest convenience.”

“Actually, Junmyeon has done that last one,” Baekhyun hums, scooting a bit closer to you, “Except, it wasn’t my apartment, he broke into Minseok’s. Let’s just say it didn’t end well for him.”

Baekhyun thinks the embarrassing anectode was worthwhile to hear you laugh, even if it was at Junmyeon’s expense. It’s fine, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

“So, does Chanyeol normally light things on fire or was this a one time thing?”

“You’d be surprised by the amount of things he’s accidentally set on fire since I’ve known him, actually,” you laugh, “But no—well, you know the bear I told you about? The one, um, Jongin gave to me when I saw him on Sunday?”

Baekhyun nods. Of course.

“Well, I also told my idiot friends about it, and that’s what Chanyeol burned,” you tell him. Baekhyun bites his bottom lip, trying not to laugh, but the temptation is written all over his face—or, evidently, so, as you chime in with, “It’s okay, you can laugh.”

Thank god, because Baekhyun wasn’t sure he could keep a straight face (or hide his blatant happiness). He decides right there that he likes Chanyeol. You have good friends.

Admittedly, after hearing you tell him about your history with Jongin as both a friend and a boyfriend, Baekhyun can’t say that he’s exactly fond of the guy. Junmyeon tells him to never judge a book by its cover, but seeing as you gave him the summary, he thinks he can fairly conclude that Jongin isn’t… the best person in the world. And the way he treated you and your friends is enough to make Baekhyun weary about him as a person.

Still, Baekhyun doesn’t judge you for talking to him. He’s not exactly jealous; he’s confident in your feelings for him and his for you, and above all, he trusts that you’re being honest with him. Quite frankly, Baekhyun doesn’t consider your ex boyfriend to be a threat.

Baekhyun knows you clearly just want to be a good friend, or at the very least, a good person to Jongin; and after knowing him for almost a decade—even if things got a bit bumpy—Baekhyun thinks you’re more than justified in that. You clearly see something in Jongin that you think can be helped, and Baekhyun trusts your judgement; you did pick him, too, after all.

Does he like that Jongin gives you gifts, and is very clearly still into you even tho you can’t see it, and don’t want any part in it? No, not exactly. But, on the bright side, Baekhyun’s the one that has your attention, and that counts for more than something.

(Not to mention you have a couple of guys who are both rooting for him and willing to beat up your ex at moments notice, so, he’d say he’s in a pretty good boat).

The only thing Jongin has ever had that Baekhyun wants is the opportunity to call you his. But he thinks he’s getting there. Hopefully. Is it weird to ask the ex of the girl you’re interested in how he got her to be his girlfriend in the first place? Do you even want to be his girlfriend? He hopes so.

He doesn’t know if sharing cheese and crackers and pasta and bread is any indication that you want to be his girlfriend, but he’d like to think it is. Because that’s what the next half hour consists of—you and Baekhyun, sharing food over smiles and stories and endless laughter.

Baekhyun finds himself laughing so hard at a story you tell him about Chanyeol and Chungha pranking Sehun, that he might as well be laughing over you. His hand ends up on your shoulder in his fit of giggles, and yours just barely above his knee. Neither of you comment on it, but you don’t pull away, either.

He’s about to chip in with a story about his childhood self, when he’s interrupted by notification noises again. Baekhyun grins at your exasperated exhale and tightly closed eyes. “It’s fine, they’ll be fine,” you tell him, silencing the ringer, and turning back to him in an attempt to continue your conversation.

Baekhyun’s about to tell you that it’s okay, that you should check your phone in case it’s an emergency or something, but he doesn’t have to; because it starts buzzing again and again and again and eventually is back to ringing.

“Answer it,” Baekhyun smiles, “Seriously, I wouldn’t want you to have to face Sehun’s wrath for ignoring him.”

It’s silent for a minute, while you scroll through your messages, and thumb a response. Baekhyun watches as your expression changes from annoyed, to vaguely amused, to concerned, to borderline unhappy. It makes his own eyebrows draw together when he sees the frown start to form on your lips.

“Everything okay?”

“Uh… I don’t think so,” you sigh, locking the screen and looking up at him, “I think I gotta head home, Sehun might have broken smoke detector and Chanyeol got… something stuck to the ceiling trying to fix it.”

Baekhyun can’t help the laugh that escapes him. You have really good friends.

“Fuck, Baek, I’m so sorry, this is—you did all of this, and my idiot friends—”

Baekhyun takes one of your flailing hands into his, effectively calming your stature and forcing to you make eye contact with him. “Hey, it’s fine, I promise,” he reassures you, “Really, it’s okay. If I got stuck to the ceiling I would hope Kyungsoo would come rescue me, too.”

“You don’t have to say that just because—”

“I’m not just saying anything,” he laughs through his words because the look on your face is nothing short of adorable, “I mean it. I had fun on our—I, I had fun, today. It’s fine, really, I promise.”

And so, you smile, demeanor significantly calmer, “I… should call a car,” you tell him, his eyes traveling down your enveloped hands, which he releases slowly, embarrassed; but then you grin again, tapping away at your phone, “I had fun on our date, too, Baekhyun.”

(So these were dates! Nice, cool, cool, keep it cool. He doesn’t; he grins like a blushing fool).

Baekhyun helps you gather your things, and moves the food around so that neither of you step on it; walks you to the door when your car says it’s arriving shortly. He waits with you on the doorstep, pretending to look out for a white sonata, when he’s really stealing glances at you through your small talk.

“Would you, uh… I mean, you’re probably already going, so,” you cut yourself off with slow exhale, turning your body towards his, “There’s this showcase, presentation type thing, for some students to, uh, present about their research coming up soon. You might already know about it, since Kyungsoo is giving one about his summer internship, I think—and it might be a little boring, and that you’re not a science guy, so it’s okay if you don’t want to—”

Baekhyun cuts you off by calling your name, a wide smile playing on his lips. “I’d love to go,” he tells you, earnestly, “I was going to go, to see Soo anyway, but I wanna support my new favorite biochem student, too.”

“Really?” You reach out and grab his hand, an action that almost seems lost on your in your flurry of excitement or flattery—or both—but, not on Baekhyun, whose palm suddenly feels warm. You must have been able to tell you flustered him, because your eyes widen, looking down at your hands, then promptly pulling them away.

“You, I mean, I want you to come, but only if you want—”

Baekhyun doesn’t know what moves him to take a leap, step a little more into your space, and take both of your hands in his with unwavering intention, but he’s glad for it; because you don’t pull away, and the look you give him kind of makes him never want to look away.

“I want to go,” he says slowly, dipping his head down the slightest, close enough to see the rings of your irises, even in the dim lighting of his porch, “I want to be there for you.”

There’s an almost inaudible “okay,” that leaves your lips, the letters rolling off your tongue with a shy smile that Baekhyun finds himself mimicking. His eyes flutter away, just for a moment, to your hands, then back to your face, before he slowly lets them go, only to rest them against your jaw again.

Baekhyun might be using the “taking things slow” mantra as an excuse for his complete lack of experience on how to navigate a real relationship, but this, right here, he’s sure of. That he likes you, that he wants you, that he—

“Can… can I kiss you?” he asks, just above a whisper.

His eyes are frantic, looking for an answer in yours, but instead he gets them from your lips; a soft, “Yes,” accompanied by a softer nod that Baekhyun would have missed if not for having your head in his hands.

When he leans forward, you meet him halfway, lips pursed together—and Baekhyun thinks that, yeah, if being in a relationship with you meant he got to do this, all day, then he would have to figure out how to be your boyfriend sooner, rather than later.

One kiss turns into two, then three, then four with smiles, and giggles in-between, and the only thing that seems to pull you away from each other is the honking of a car horn. Flustered, Baekhyun lowers his hand, bites on his bottom lip as you fumble to check the license plates on the car to those on your phone.

“I think that’s my car,” you tell him, and maybe it’s wishful thinking, but he swears there’s slightest twinge of disappointment in your voice, too, “I—I had fun, Baek, really. So, thank you, again.”

“Me too,” he says, words on autopilot, brain still stuck in the moment before.

He smiles, daystruck as he walks you to the curb, before you cross the street. He’s about to wish you well again, before you turn to him, and give him the smallest, barely there peck on the lips.

“Goodnight, Baekhyun.”

He doesn’t even know if he responds audibly, he��s processing you in fragments, watching your silhouette as you cross the street, and head into the backseat of the car. He swears he catches the smallest wave from you through the window, but for all he knows that could have been his imagination.

Your goodnight kiss lingers on his lips, on his mind, and it’s only when he’s back inside that he lets himself break out into the foolish grin he’s been hiding all night. He’s going to have to figure out how to do that boyfriend-girlfriend thing. As soon as possible.

ϟ tag list: @artfulbarnes @bat-shark-repellant @baek-byunies @baeklooming-day @bbh-kji @cosmins @coffee-prince-kyungsoo @etsjusoa @exuwu @elyxion1485 @fifiaaaaaa @haechanspudu @honeyboocal @httpschoisan @junkfoodwriting @just-a-sad-writer @j-pping @kkpoptrashhh @littleflowercrown13 @loeytingz @marina-del-rey98 @mangobaek @miraculyfe @mochahyuck @oasissehun @ohwosehun @p-polaroid @peachesyeol @peacherparker @penguinsoo-l @rikachusworld @sakura-uji @shesdreaminginoverdose @sekshi-namjas @smolpeyy @strawberrychannie @takoyakkun @to-all-the-stories-i-love @vaiva @writingindaisies @xiutingmyself @yourexotextplus

ϟ more notes: more smoochies!! they have kissed a few times (maybe once or twice) since their first kiss a few parts ago, but i had no way of showing that to you guys so here you go!! they’re in a weird stage where they kiss each other goodbye and go on dates and like each other but it’s not exactly... dating?

i hope this gives some insight into baekhyun’s thoughts, as well. some things are harder to get across through just texts, but i wanted to show his feelings beyond his overexcited, adorable messages 🥺 he’s still a whole babie, but he has complex thoughts!!

i’ll finish rambling now, but there is an intended part 15C (which I know, sounds like it should just be part 16 at this point, but in a perfect world, I’d have been able to fit everything into one post but i digress). maybe it’ll be part 16 anyway, but it’ll likely include some writing because the xiuchen drama is back!! 🤗

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bangtancentricsblog · 3 years

Note

i saw that your requests are open and i’m curious what’s up with mafia!jk and oc😅 i’m a sucker for a good angst and smut but i leave it up to you what you’d like to write in it💜

i went with some backstory for these two, and there isn’t much smut, i hope you don't mind

❍ pairing: on bad days couple

❍ word count: 945

warnings/disclosures: some violence, angst, nothing too bad, as always unedited

〚 prev • next 〛

“You look like you got some fight left in you kid.” the man snickers down at Jungkook. Though truly Jungkook’s just getting started, running his tongue over his split lip just to taste the coppery tang of blood. He’s heartbroken and a little self destructive, he just wants to feel something else other than this. Would much rather feel the pain from a split lip, a few broken fingers and maybe a bruise or two. He has no right though, no right to feel so broken up about you when he was the one who’d called it quits. Had stood there and watched as your face crumbled when he’d told you he couldn't play house with you anymore, as if he’d ever done so. As if he hadn't been the one to seek you out, even when your father had forbidden it, forbid him from ever seeing you again. But Jungkook had taken it as a challenge, making it his purpose to find you no matter where your father hid you.

Until he no longer had to play this game of hide and seek, the two of you had been shocked the day your father had shown up at one of your dates. Simply waving his hand to silence the both of you, in that moment Jungkook had been prepared to do anything to protect you. Surprisingly your father had laughed heartily, glancing at the hand Jungkook had placed on his gun, before smiling and taking a seat. Yet even with your father’s blessing Jungkook had gone and messed it up, ripping your heart out and stomping on it until you were left to collect the pieces. He wasn't even sure you’d be able to glue them back together afterwards, but he hasn't looked back. And yet nights like this he finds himself in back alley brawls with guys twice his size, who look mean and pack a even meaner punch. So Jungkook just smirks at him, lip tearing further at the stretch of the simple gesture.

“Oh you have no idea.” he chuckles, rearing his head back, listening to the sickening crack of the guy’s nose before he’s slammed into the brick wall at his back. He’s choking on a wheeze, all his breath leaving him at the impact, but he relishes the pain and the equally startled cry of the man. Truth be told Jungkook isn't sure what happened next, can't really remember how he’d gotten away from the man or if he’d won the fight. He knows he’d caught a cab, rattled off an address, and then limped his way to the door. Which brings him back to the present, as he sits on your toilet, your soft hands tilting his head up to dab at the blood on his lip.

“God you’re so stupid.” you sigh, and he knows you really mean I missed you.

“I know, I’m sorry.” he says through clenched teeth, hissing as the sting of alcohol.

“No you’re not,” please take better care of yourself “I always have to clean you up.” I hate seeing you hurt. He tries to flex the fingers in his left hand but winces when he remembers you’d bandaged them together.

“I miss you.” he whispers watching intently as you freeze just briefly before you step away from him.

“Jungkook I-”

“I really miss you.” he says again in a voice that sounds entirely too small for the man you know. It makes your heart ache, but he chose this not you.

“How did you even get all of these?” you ask instead, thumb softly grazing a blooming bruise on his cheek.

“Bar fight, you look really pretty.” you frown, sighing heavily. Of course he’d gotten into a fight, you knew his reputation well enough by now.

“I think you should go home.” it’s his turn to frown brows furrowing in distaste. He doesn't like the idea of that at all, not when he has you in front of him.

“No.” he says immediately, almost petulantly with a pout that makes the ache in your heart lessen waking the butterflies in your belly.

“Yes, I can have someone take you.” He takes your hand in his, fingers easily slotting together giving a small squeeze.

“Stay with me, please.”

“Jungkook I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because you broke up with me.”

“M’sorry, i fucked it up but I miss you. Please.” he almost begs leaning forward so he can nuzzle the soft cotton of your sweater. Breathing in your scent something soft and kind of sweet but one that soothes his aching heart all the same. Your chest rattles on a shaky sob, eyes clouding with tears as your fingers knot in his hair, it’s longer than you last remembered, blonde too. You hum your response letting him pull you onto his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist just so he can feel you. His lips find yours easily, sighing at the first tentative swipe of your tongue against his.

“Missed you so much baby.” he breathes against your lips pulling you closer when you whine.

“Missed you too Kook.” you say letting your hands wander, tangling in his hair pulling until he hisses.

“Tell me how much.”

“So much, missed you so much.” you mewl grinding against the bulge in his pants. His uninjured hand finds your throat, squeezing teasingly, his gaze trained on the way your chest heaves and your body trembles in anticipation.

“Show me.” he whispers, nuzzling your cheek while basking in the muffled cry he pulls from your lips. He realizes now, that he could never let you go, and he’d be damned if he ever tried again.

forever tagging @boymeetsweevil because I have somethings in store for you 😈

#jeon jeongguk x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #emm writes #an emm writes production #emms jungkook content #mine writings #alternative universe: mafia/gang #alternative universe: non idol verse #obd verse

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marauderundercover · 3 years

Text

Taking Chances Chapter Five: Paris Revealed (Stories/Memories)

AO3

Marinette flinches back as the room erupts in shouting. The younger boy, who was definitely younger than her and yet almost (if not definitely) taller than her, was fiercely glaring while he screamed at Mr. Wayne in….was that Arabic? The man that walked in with him was waving around the knife in his hand while Dick yelled at Mr. Wayne, his face filled with confusion instead of fury. Glancing around for a way out, Marinette makes eye contact with Alfred who nods behind him. Sneaking away from the group of angry men, Marinette follows Alfred into the kitchen and instantly feels at home. And much calmer.

“I’m sorry.” She mumbles, breathing deeply to avoid spiraling again. Alfred simply hands her a cookie before turning around and putting water in a kettle.

“There is no need to apologize, Miss Marinette. It seems Master Bruce has forgotten all sense today and is instead insistent on acting like a fool. It was wrong of him to announce you like that, without preparing you or the boys beforehand. I do hope that his atrocious display of proper manners doesn’t make you want to leave.” Alfred says, and Marinette’s eyebrows shoot upwards. Was he? Was Alfred actually blaming this situation on Mr. Wayne? Was it Mr. Wayne’s fault? Did he not actually hate her? Did he just make a mistake?

“I- what?” Marinette says, unsure of herself.

“You, my dear, are not at fault. Your father didn’t tell any of his sons that you were coming to the manor today, or that you existed in general. And judging by your face, you weren’t prepared for the boys to be here either.” Alfred clarifies.

“Oh. No, I wasn’t. Mr. Wayne just said that he wanted to get to know me, and he knew I wanted to get to know him. I- my birth mother passed away. But my Maman knew her, so I can find out from her how I’m similar to Bridgette. But neither of my parents knew Mr. Wayne, and I just wanted to know if I was like him, I guess. I didn’t even know who he was until two days ago.” Marinette admits.

“As in you found out Bruce Wayne was your birth father two days ago or-” Alfred trails off, waiting for her to clarify.

“Oh no. I found out the name of my birth father awhile ago. It’s just- I really don’t pay attention to celebrities. The only ones I really know are designers. So I didn’t put two and two together, and I didn’t even know about Bruce Wayne and Wayne Enterprises until a few days ago. My friend Adrien made me google him and that’s when I found out about...the boys.” She says, stopping herself from saying her brothers as she was still unsure if Mr. Wayne actually wanted her like he wanted the others.

“Well I’m certain that things will start to calm down shortly. In the meantime, would you care for some tea?” Alfred asks, holding up the kettle. Marinette nods gratefully, trying hard to stop her inner spiral from drowning her.

---

“What do you mean daughter?” Damian snarls, finally switching to English. Bruce blinks at the boy before sighing.

“I mean, you have a biological sister.” He says, tired and wishing he had been able to convince Marinette to go somewhere else. Not that he didn’t want her to meet her siblings. But it definitely wasn’t the laid back first meeting that he wanted.

“You mean half-sister.” Damian spits out, crossing his arms and sticking his nose into the air.

“Shut up, Demon Spawn. She’s our sister, get over it. Where’d the kid come from? Her mom drop her off?” Jason asks, obviously trying to actually understand the situation.

“No. I first met her at the Museum and had my suspicions. She’s in Gotham on a class trip, and before you ask, yes. We had a DNA test done and yes, I am her father.” Bruce says, frowning when he sees Dick’s hurt expression morph into one of excitement.

“Wait, wait, wait! Was she the girl who was sassing the Joker?” He asks quietly, practically buzzing with excitement. When Bruce nods, Dick cheers and runs from the room. Okay then.

“Wait, she met the Joker?” Jason asks, his expression turning dark. Bruce watches his son’s face morph into one of disgust when he puts it together. “She’s the French kid he had at gunpoint, isn’t she?”

“Yes. Which is one of the reasons why we both thought the manor would be a more appropriate meeting place rather than somewhere public.” Bruce says, sighing as Damian once again starts screaming. This was not what he had planned.

---

After just a few minutes with Alfred, Marinette already felt calmer. Calm enough to giggle at another story about something that one of the boys- one of her brothers- did. Calm enough to let her guard down. And mess up.

“If you wanna see something ridiculous, you should look up the 26th time Monsieur Ramier was akumatized into Monsieur Pigeon. He made all the buildings turn into bird cages and all the food turned into bird seed. Luckily it didn’t last long, but seeing the Mayor of Paris stuck inside a giant bird cage was kind of hilarious.” Marinette rambles, giggling at the memory. It was definitely a needed akuma, situated right between two super destructive akumas. Monsieur Pigeon was, while a nuisance, always a breath of fresh air. His akumatized form was brought on by his fierce protectiveness of the pigeons, which luckily never led to death for civilians.

“Pardon me, Miss Marinette, but could I ask what you mean by ‘akumatized’?” Alfred asks, his posture suddenly stiff. Marinette’s eyes widen as she realizes what she just did. She told someone outside of Paris about the situation happening in Paris. Well crap. Normal Parisians didn’t know about the media block that she had set up with the help of the Mayor and Max. But after her calls to the Justice League were ignored, and she realized how disastrous it would be for a member of the League to be akumatized, the media block was the best choice. Time to act clueless.

“Akumatized, as in, a person is possessed by an akuma? Surely you’ve heard of it. It’s been happening in Paris for almost two years.” She says, hoping he doesn’t ask to see any evidence. This isn’t good, this is awful, this-

“And what is an akuma?” Alfred asks. Okay, this isn’t too bad.

“It’s an evil butterfly sent out by the villain, Hawkmoth.” Marinette says, giving out more information than she’s really comfortable with. Okay, time to change the subject, no more questions about heroes or villains or-

“Marinette!” A new voice calls, sliding into the kitchen, almost immediately falling over.

“Master Dick, have you forgotten about your ban on the kitchen?” Alfred asks, his lips quirking up in amusement.

“Awww, Alfred, I just wanted to talk to Marinette. I feel bad for all of us overwhelming her back there.” Dick says with a pout that somehow doesn’t look ridiculous on him. Despite obviously being at least ten years older than her.

“Don’t feel bad. It was just...a lot all at once.” Marinette says with a small smile.

“So I have to ask, are you the one who sassed the Joker at the Museum the other day?” He asks, a wide grin on his face as he sits on one of the stools. Marinette’s eyes widen and she blinks. How?

“Oh, uh, yeah, I guess. It wasn’t a big deal though. He thought I was a Wayne- well, I guess he figured it out before I did- but I think he just wanted to scare my class.” She says, waving her hand to brush off the topic. She really didn’t want to talk about the Joker. Because she was sure it would turn into-

“I apologize for asking, but have you been caught up in the villain attacks in Paris before?” Alfred asks, Marinette instantly panicking. Sure, she’d been caught up in almost every single akuma battle as Ladybug. But there were a few on record where she was targeted as Marinette, and even a few battles that she assisted as Marinette. And then there was Kwami Buster…

“Well, a few. But basically everyone in Paris has dealt with it at some point. That’s just what happens when there’s an attack so often, you know? And my school seems to be a hotspot but that makes sense because teenagers are full of negative emotions and-” Marinette cuts off her rambling, cursing herself on the inside. Great job, Mari. Now they’re going to be worried or they’re going to think you’re a freak or-

“What do you mean negative emotions? Why would that matter?” Dick asks, his previous cheerful smile replaced with a look that clearly meant business.

“That’s how the villain chooses his targets. Negative emotion. If someone is having a bad enough day, he can take control of them and give them powers and basically destroy the city trying to get to Ladybug and Chat Noir, who are our heroes. I only know what’s been posted on official sites like the Ladyblog or miraculousparis.org.” Marinette says, smiling apologetically and hoping that this conversation can be over.

“Have you ever been akumatized?” Dick asks, tension suddenly filling the room.

“No, thankfully. I’ve found ways to manage my negative emotions so that they can’t take me over. I don’t blame anyone who has been akumatized, it’s hard not to be. But, I also don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself if I was akumatized.” Because then her family would be a target. Because Hawkmoth would know her identity. And if Hawkmoth’s insistence on her being akumatized was anything to go on, she’d be a devastating akuma. And if Ladybug wasn’t fighting in the battle….would the cure even work?

“That is a lot of pressure, Miss Marinette.” Alfred says softly after a moment of tense silence. Marinette grins brightly.

“I can handle it, don’t worry!” She says, hoping no one can tell how hard it actually is. How hard it is constantly being strong. Never truly feeling a negative emotion.

---

Bruce winces at the faux cheerfulness in his daughter’s voice. He had only found out about the Paris situation a few days ago, but he was determined to fix it. Find a solution. Do something to help the city and by extension, his daughter. She’d be going back there soon. Back to a city that was being held hostage by an emotional terrorist. Bruce would fix this. He had to.

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @imarivers8 @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks

#maribat bruce wayne #maribat #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat adrien agreste #maribat adrienette #maribat bio dad bruce #maribat bio dad! bruce wayne month 2021 #maribat bio dad au #maribat batfam #maribat dick grayson #maribat jason todd #maribat damian wayne #mbdbwm2021 #day five stories/memories #ao3fic

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destiniesfic · 4 years

Photo

Folktober 02 — for @jurdannet/@jurdannetrevels. Jude was never taken to Faerie and grew up in blissful ignorance of the fair folk — mostly — until the night they tried to steal her twin sister away. (CW this chapter for drugging via faerie wine.)

“Bring her here,” says Cardan.

I am still squirming, but Valerian lifts me clean off my feet and carries me around the bonfire. Nobody cares about my shrieking, either, and despite my earlier threat we’re probably too far from the road for anyone else to hear. I try to make eye contact with the guitar player, but he stares through me, plucking at his strings.

Valerian deposits me at Cardan’s side, on the same soft red blanket he sprawls atop. I try to scramble away, but Valerian puts his hands on my shoulders and holds me in place with what seems like very little effort. Cardan doesn’t lift a finger this entire time, just watches me with his black hole eyes. He is obviously in charge here. Hadn’t Locke called him a prince?

“Look how frightened it is,” snickers Valerian. “Look how it trembles.”

It’s true: I am shaking, even though I desperately wish to stop. Being so near to them is terrifying. Up close, everything about Cardan is sharp and dangerous, nature’s way of saying “keep out!” He’s beautiful, too, but in the same way those tiny, brightly-colored frogs in the pages of the NatGeo magazine my parents got when we were kids are beautiful. Basically, touch at your peril.

“What are you going to do?” I ask him, trying to shake Valerian off without much success. “Are you going to eat me?”

The blue-haired girl, Nicasia, throws her head back and laughs. “You should be so lucky, mortal girl.”

Her companion, Locke, frowns. “You don’t mean to keep her as a pet, do you?”

“Balekin has plenty of moral pets,” Cardan says. “Surely he won’t begrudge me one of my own.”

I don’t like the sound of that.

“You have to let me go,” I tell him. “My parents will notice I’m gone by morning. They’ll worry. And Taryn— we have homework. And I’m waiting for my college applications to come in. And—”

“I don’t have to do anything.” He looks me over. His eyelashes are so long and thick that they cast fleeting shadows against his cheeks. “It’s a shame. You’re amusing like this, but too difficult to manage. Open your mouth.”

I blink. “What? Why?”

“You belong to me now, and you dare question my orders? Open your mouth or I’ll pry it open myself.”

Somehow, I get the sense that he’s showing off for his friends. I weigh what’s left of my dignity against my desire to make him struggle, and decide I should save up my defiance. I’ll need it.

God, I hope Taryn gets home safe.

I open my mouth, but only a little. I wonder if he’s going to kiss me. He’s so pretty that about ten percent of me almost wants it, which must be how they get you. At least the other ninety percent is keeping her head. If he kisses me, will I die? I wish I’d read more about faeries. I wish I paid more attention to my parents.

Cardan rests a beringed hand against my jaw. Then, before I can jerk my head away, he pours a little of his wine into my mouth.

I rear back, coughing. I can hear them all laughing now. Valerian lets go of me, and I wipe at my face, trying to sop up the wine that spilled from my lips. I know I swallowed some; it lingers, overly sweet, on my tongue.

“What was that?” I snap, but it doesn’t have the venom I’d like. I am already feeling lightheaded. What was that rule? Don’t eat or drink anything?

Oh no. No no no.

“It’s a revel,” Cardan explains. “A small one, but a revel still. And you were of no mind for revelry. A taste should be more than enough to remedy that. Tell me, how do you feel now?”

I blink a couple of times. I remember being afraid, but fear feels very far away now. Like I’ve woken from a nightmare. It lingers, but is quickly shaken off. In its place is just… ease. Elation. My body feels free. Even the aches from my last sword practice with dad in the backyard are gone.

“I feel great,” I say honestly, grinning at him. “Wow, your face is close.”

He grins back. “Better. I have much I would ask of you, mortal Jude. Why not come a little closer?”

I lean toward him. Maybe he’ll kiss me now. I don’t know why that was such a bad idea ten seconds ago. His mouth looks soft.

But instead of doing any such thing, Cardan slides two long fingers down my sweatshirt collar and pulls it aside. A brief look of triumph flashes across his face as he fishes out my string of dried rowan berries. “You do know something of our ways,” he murmurs, and I am pleased by his satisfaction. “Locke, what do you make of this?”

Locke moves as if to get up, but Nicasia shifts so that her head is on his lap. He peers across at us instead. “Were you sent by someone?”

I shake my head, bewildered.

“Who gave you the rowan berries?”

“My mom,” I say, smiling at him. There doesn’t seem to be any harm in saying it. Besides, I want to help these beautiful strangers. I want them to like me. “She says to always put them on when we’re venturing out. Taryn doesn’t wear hers anymore, though.”

“And there is the difference between you and your sister. I imagine you’ll have questions for your mother, should you see her again,” Cardan says. He slips the berries back down into my collar and gives my sternum a pat, as if tucking them in. I don’t bother to question why he phrases it like that.

“This is dull,” Valerian complains, sitting by the fire and making one of the hikers pour him more wine. “Are you going to tumble her or not?”

I let out a nervous giggle, because that hadn’t occurred to me, but why not? Wouldn’t it be fun? They’re all so pretty. Cardan’s eyes narrow, though. Apparently he doesn’t agree that it would be fun. “What, here? In the dirt? Certainly not.”

“What would be the appeal of cavorting with a mortal?” Nicasia asks loudly. “They’re such dirty, short-lived things.”

“Really?” There is something odd and tense in Cardan’s voice. I cock my head toward him, trying to pick it out. Like pulling a loose thread on a scarf. “What had you and Locke planned for the sister, then?”

Nicasia sputters, and Valerian laughs. The words wash over me. I barely mark them.

“It is said they have a certain earthy charm,” Locke remarks, unruffled as ever. “Although I myself would not know. Would you, Cardan? Your home is filled to the brim with mortals.”

“No,” Cardan says. Something has upset him. I rest my head on his shoulder, and he looks at me like he forgot I was there.

“I would know,” says Valerian, although no one asked him. “The charm is in reminding them where they belong. Beneath us.”

“Now, that is dull talk,” Cardan sighs. He drinks deeply from his goblet then flops back onto his cushions. “Come, Jude, lie back with me and we shall watch the stars until midnight.”

I do as I’m told. It’s nice, being close to him. His body is so warm, and I haven’t had the chance to just lie next to a boy before. Or anyone I wasn’t related to, really. Mom and Dad and Taryn and Vivi and I would pile onto the same couch to watch movies, back before Vivi went away to college, but of course that isn’t the same as this. There’s familial intimacy, and then there’s a night alive with possibility, and the body of someone pretty beside you.

I bury my face in Cardan’s shoulder. He smells sweet, like apple blossoms, like cinnamon on morning toast, like all the good things. “What happens at midnight?” I ask him. I don’t want this to ever end.

“Oh, Jude,” he says on another sigh. “At midnight, we go home.”

---

Tagging people who said they wanted a part 2 (in comments or tags): @lilithsaur @highqueenofelfhame @fantasyfox101 @emeralddaydream13 @b00kworm @amandlas @gellavonhamster If you want to be tagged in future posts, let me know!

#jurdannet #jurdannetrevels #folktober2020 #jurdan #judecardan #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #the folk of the air #the cruel prince #tfota #mine: fic #fic: folktober

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write-orflight · 3 years

Text

Settle Down: Chapter 6

**Gif Not Mine**

Prev - Next

Pairings: SpencerXReader (kinda enemies to lovers)

Rating: M

Words: 2.8K

Warnings: None really

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary: Y/N and Spencer don’t get along but turn to each other for the one thing you need someone else for… A baby. You can plantonically start a family, right?

A.N: Kinda a filler chapter and I kinda made JJ a bitch in this chapter, oops. Let me know what you think and reply to this chapter or message to be tagged. much love- Cia

Chapter 6: Well, she’s a blob right now, so I hope not

You groaned when you woke up.

Your head and throat hurt so much. Spencer stirred next to you, sitting up when he saw you moved. He wordlessly hands you a cup of water, which you take graciously.

“How do you feel?” Spencer asks.

“Head hurts.” You groan.

“Yea, a concussion will do that.” He chuckles.

You look him in the eyes. “The baby?”

“Is completely fine.” Spencer finishes. “But about that…”

“What happened?”

“I’d like to preface this with it’s not my fault.” Spencer explains. “But when the doctor was telling me what happened, he let it slip that the baby was fine… in front of Morgan and Garcia.”

You wince. “How pissed are they?”

“They’re more excited than anything but… She is a little mad that we didn’t tell her especially since she knew we were trying.”

You nod. “I’ll get her a gift this weekend, she’ll get over it. But that means we’re going to have to tell everyone huh?”

“I made them agree to keep it under wraps until you were ready. It’s your decision.”

You nod. “I’ll go to Hotch as soon as I’m out of here.” You say.

“Y/N, if you don’t want to, you don’t have to--”

“No, you were right. I can’t keep putting the baby at risk because I’m scared. It’s better to just tell him as soon as possible and deal with the repercussions later.” You say. “You don’t have to, but will you come with me? I won’t tell anyone it’s yours if you don’t want me to.”

Spencer looks at you incredulously. “What? Y/N, I was not going to make you do this alone. We’re a team now. If we tell them, we do it together.” He says, grabbing your hand.

“Thanks, Spencer.”

“You’re welcome.”

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

You never liked being in Hotch’s office which is why you tried to avoid it all cost. Spencer’s leg bounced nervously as the two of you waited for Hotch to finish his phone call. You tapped his leg to get his attention. Once granted, you gave him a look that read Are you okay or do I need to do this alone? Spencer shakes his head no at you and you lean back. Eventually, Hotch hangs up the phone and levels a look at the two of you.

“What did the two of you need to meet with me about?” He asks. “If this is another coffee dispute, I don’t want to be involved--”

“He knew that was my mug but that’s now what we’re here for.” You say. “We’re here because I need to fill out a leave form.”

Hotch looks at you seemingly more confused than he was before but nods anyway. “What leave form do you need?”

“Um, maternity.” Hotch’s eyes snap back up at you, widely drifting from you and Spencer. You knew you didn’t have to say it, Hotch was a talented Profiler and has been one for years. “I’m about 3 months now, so I’ll need it around November for 3 months and Spencer will need 1 month of Paternity leave--”

“Ok, let's back up for a second so I can make sure I’m clear on what’s happening here.” Hotch says, holding up his hands. “You’re pregnant?”

“Yes.” You say.

“And Spencer is--”

“The father, yes.”

“And you guys are…?” He trails off.

“Co-Parents.” You say at the same time as Spencer says “Friends.”

Hotch sighs, pinching his brow together. “Is your previous relationship going to affect how you work together now?”

You and Spencer look at each other in confusion for a second before realizing exactly what Hotch was saying to you. “Sir, I understand your confusion but there is no previous relationship to worry about. Me and Spencer have never been in any kind of relationship. We just mutually wanted a kid.” You say.

“It won’t affect our work, sir.” Spencer adds.

“Well, except for the obvious way.” You say, pointing at your belly.

Hotch sighs again, before wordlessly handing the both of you a form. “I suggest the two of you find a better way to tell the team than you did me.”

You and Spencer wince at that before getting up, mumbling ‘yes, sir’. When you’re almost out the door, you hear Hotch call. “Y/N?”

You turn back, raising an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“Congratulations.” He says.

You can’t help the smile that crosses your face. “Thank you, sir.”

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

The two of you decide to wait two more weeks before telling everyone, wanting to find out the gender first. You find out that you’re having a girl and Spencer holds you while crying while the doctor shows you your baby on the Ultrasound screen.

Your baby.

The very real human that you and Spencer created was in fact, real and you could see her.

“Thank you.” He whispers to you, when the two of you leave the office, pictures of your beautiful daughter in hand. “I just never thought I’d get this experience.”

It’s enough to make the waterworks start again.

Later, you go into work, lunch for you in Penelope in hand. When you sit the sandwich from her favorite shop in front of her, she says nothing.

“Aw, come on Pen. You can’t still be mad at me.”

“Yes, I can be.” She pouts.

“Look, I’m sorry I kept it from you but I didn’t want to tell anyone until I was sure I was having a healthy baby.” You say, Pen looks a little guilty but still keeps her back towards you. Alright, you think, time to pull out the big guns. “Would you still be mad at me if I let you be first to see the pictures of your goddaughter?”

That makes Penelope turn towards you with a wide eyed expression. “Goddaughter? As in--”

“We’re having a girl.” You say. “And we want you to be the godmother. But only if you want to.” You add.

Penelope smiles wide before wrapping you in a tight hug. “Of course, I will be! Are you kidding? If something happens to you, someone’s gotta make sure this kid gets into Harvard.”

You laugh. “Make it UPenn and you’ve got a deal.”

“You bet! Now, I was promised pictures…?” You smile and hand them over. Penelope coos as she goes through the photos. “Oh, she looks just like you.”

“Well, she’s a blob right now, so I hope not.”

Later, you guys get a case, 4 men murdered in New Haven, and you and Penny present the case together. After Hotch calls wheels up, you clear your throat.

“Actually, if you guys don’t mind waiting for a second, I have something to say.” You say, addressing the larger group. “Some of you already know this but since I’m probably going to start showing more by the time you get back I figure it’s better to tell you now. I’m pregnant, well me and Spencer are. It’s a girl, and she’s due around November.”

“Woah, are you joking?” Emily says, sitting up fully now. “You and Spencer are having a kid?” You nod and she jumps up to hug you. Which starts a cacophony of hugs and claps on the back in congrats for the both of you from the rest of the team.

“And you told me there was nothing going on between you and boy wonder.” Emily smirks, when she pulls back from your hug.

“Believe me when I tell you, she is the only thing happening between me and Spencer. Nothing else.”

She laughs. “If you say so, kid. But I see the way he looks at you.” She says. You can’t help but to look at Spencer in that moment who is smiling at the congratulations being given to him too. You can’t help but also smile at his warmth. He must feel your eyes on him because he looks up and smiles brightly back at you. Soon, Hotch is congratulating you guys again but directing the team to start getting ready as the Jet will be leaving soon. Spencer walks up to you in that moment.

“Are you going to be okay while I’m gone?” Spencer asks.

“Am I ever not?” You counter. Spencer laughs.

“Call me if anything happens, ok?”

It was in that moment that you realized just how much of a staple Spencer had become in your life. The idea of him being gone on a case for so long was… actually upsetting you and before you could stop yourself you ask.

“Can I call you if nothing happens?” You say, instantly regretting how desperate the sentence made you sound. Spencer looks at you confused for a second. “You know what? Nevermind, have fun. Or as fun as murder investigations can get--”

“Y/N.” He cuts you off, you look up at him and he has a marshmallow soft expression on those honey colored eyes that made you almost melt on the spot. “You can call me whenever you need me. Seriously, ok?”

You nod at the man. “Ok.”

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

The team comes back two weeks later when you’re officially in maternity clothes. Which were a lot more comfortable. The only thing you had to worry about was occasionally swatting Penelope’s hand away from your belly. It’s not too long after their return that Penelope is suggesting you guys have a girls night, which you agree to whole-heartedly. You couldn’t drink but you needed to get out the house, you were practically going stir crazy.

“Alright 3 tequila shots for the grown ups and a mocktail for mama.” Garcia says handing out the drinks, which you gratefully take mumbling a thank you.

“God, I can’t believe you and Spencer are having a kid.” Emily adds after the group takes their shots.

“Neither can I sometimes, but I am excited.” You smile.

“Yea, it’s kind of… shocking.” JJ adds. Your eyes narrow slightly at her tone, something was off but you decided it wasn’t worth mentioning. “I just wished you guys had talked more about it before going through with it.” She shrugs.

Ok, now you were really confused. “Well, Spencer and I actually talked about it for a long while before actually deciding to get pregnant.”

“I’m sure you did, I’m just saying I wish you had talked about it more with us.” She adds.

Your mother used to always tell you no matter how hard you tried growing up, you could never fully hide when you were pissed. Which is probably why Penelope and Emily got weird looks on their face when you said. “Well JJ, I’ll be honest. When I decided I wanted to have a kid with Spencer. I didn’t think discussion needed to be had with anyone other than me and Spencer and on occasion, my doctor because we’re both adults capable of making very adult decisions.” You say, sipping your drink. “What’s your deal with Spencer anyway?”

She brushes that off. “I just don’t think he’s ready.”

“Well, I do because he’s an adult who thinks for himself and he told me he was ready. What, do you not think Spencer will be a good dad?”

She shakes her head. “I know Spencer will be a great dad.”

“So, you think I’m going to be a bad mother?” You say. JJ says nothing. “Cool, JJ, really cool.” You say, standing up and grabbing your bag.

“Oh come on, Y/N. I didn’t say that!” She calls.

“You didn’t have to. Thanks for inviting me, Penny.” You say, clutching your bag and holding the tears that threatened to leave. “I’ll see you guys at work.”

Leaving the bar, you realize that you were very upset and probably shouldn’t be alone so before you can stop yourself you call him.

Spencer answers on the second ring. “Hey, what’s wrong? I thought it was girls night.”

“Can I come over?” You blurt.

“Here?” Spencer asks. “Yea.”

“Great.” You say, hanging up.

The short ride to Spencer’s is filled with the soft sounds of Stevie Nicks playing through your speakers. When you get to the apartment building you bound up the stairs before knocking on the familiar door. You loved Spencer’s work clothes fine enough but if you had to pick a favorite Spencer’s lounge clothes were definitely in the top ten. The man stood in front of you in a pair of gray sweats and graphic t-shirt from a horror movie festival that he had told you he went to every year when you guys were talking about traditions you’d want to carry over to your child. And how he wanted for you guys to go as a family once she was a proper horror movie watching age. He wordlessly steps to the side to let you in the apartment.

“Hey, what’s up? You never want to come here.” Spencer says, as you settle on his couch.

“Did I pressure you into this?” You blurt. Spencer looks at you confused.

“What?”

“I mean, do you actually want this as much as I do or did I pressure you into this.”

“What? Of course, I want this. Have I given you any indication that I don’t?”

“No!”

“Then, what’s up?”

“I don’t know. I just, I really wanted our baby and if you weren’t ready then I should’ve thought about it more, asked more but even if you didn’t want it now it’s too late and JJ got in my head and--”

“Hold on, JJ?”

“We got into a slight argument at girls night.” You say.

“And what did she say to you?”

“That she wishes we talked about it more with them before just having a baby and that she also doesn’t think you’re ready. And she kind of implied I’m going to be a bad mom.” You say, furiously wiping your face as the tears fell from your eyes against your will. “I’m going to be a bad mom.” You repeat.

Spencer is immediately kneeling in front of you, large hands cradling your face as his thumbs gently wiped the tears from your eyes. “Hey, hey. First, you didn’t pressure me into this. In fact, you gave me time and space to come to my own conclusion and I decided on my own that I wanted to have a child with you. And I came to that conclusion because I know for a fact that you are going to be a great mom. Because I know that there is no one who is going to love this child as much as I will than you. And I know that I am 100% by your side and ready for this, ok? I didn’t ask for a second opinion because I didn’t need one. I knew that I wanted this and that I wanted it with you.” He says, you nod. “Do you need me to talk to her?”

“No, I have a feeling that’ll only make things worse.”

“She upset you.” Spencer points out.

She did but you didn’t want the unnecessary drama that would come with Spencer confronting JJ for you. So you brush it off. “Yesterday, I cried over burnt toast. It’s the hormones.” You say.

Spencer nods, taking the seat next to you on the couch. “Will watching Mulan make you feel better?”

“Do you even have to ask that?”

You’re about halfway through the movie when the thought comes to you.

“Your lease is up here in two months, right?” You say, turning your attention away from the army singing about their dream girls to the man whose shoulder you had drifted on at some point of the film.

“Yea.” Spencer nods.

“Move in with me.” You say. Spencer looks at you for a second like you’ve grown a second head. “I mean, It’s practical, right? I have a house, a room already set up for her, an office I can turn into an extra room for you. It’d be really helpful during the first couple of months. Plus, we wouldn’t have to worry about child-proofing this absolute fire hazard.” You say, gesturing to the books all around you. “And if you decide you don’t want to live there we can find you a new place.” You shrug.

“You’re serious?” Spencer asks. “You want me around that much?”

“As a heart attack, I always want you around, Spencer.” You say, before you can stop yourself, look at him with a soft expression.

“It is practical.” Spencer notes.

“So, that’s a yes?” You ask.

“It’s not a no.” Spencer smiles down at you before turning back to the screen.

Taglist: @moonshinerbynight @crimeshowtrash @no-honey-no @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel @chenlemure @sizzlingclamturtlesludge @tclaerh @k-k0129 @takeyourleap-of-faith @trashyhipsterfangirl @haylaansmi @spencerreidlivesrentfreeinmyhead @waspyyy @itsametaphorbriansblog @octaviaxanadu @whxt-to-write @meowiemari @b99andsoc @boba-king-iroh @punkndisorderrly @richardrosejpeg @underratedmisfit @gredvb @criminalminds4days @fanfictionislifetho @justpeachykeeeen @kopfkinomind @moonchildkei @appleblossoms-posts @urguardiandevil @cm-imagines-07 @ajeff855 @reidsconverse @isknowplaces @ashwarren32

@cielo1984 @rainsong01 @dracoxmgg @m0rce1ddd @daviddobrikandyn @mcntsee @debiwolf-t @jellokangaroo @honeyboysteezy @sadassflatass @itsametaphorbriansblog @itsdars @themanwiththreephds @amidafternoonthoughts @poisondragon @ncsls0515 @spencerhotchner @myescapefromthislife @kasaikawa @fakin-it-til-i-make-it @lieswithoutfairytales @rosesonmyheart @wickedscorpio22 @little-blue-fishie @itsdars

#spencer x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer x y/n #spencer reid smut #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds #criminal minds fluff #bau x reader #bau x y/n #bau

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anjuschiffer · 4 years

Text

Amira Wayne - Chapter 13

I’m alive! Here’s day 14 of @biodad-bruce-month event (even tho it ended already)!

Chapter 13: Dating/Love

P.Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo @elijahcrevan

Tag: @vixen-uchiha @we-want-mini-mini @ramos123 @bluesimani @redscarlet95 @greatcatblaze @promiswords @fantasiame @corabeth11 @anonymously-odd @alexandriamw @officiallydarkgeek @galla02006 @maleive07

MASTERLIST | FIRST | PREV | AO3

“Wait, I could just do that?” Chat exclaimed, looking at the akuma that crumbled under his hand.

It was another day without Ladybird, but Chat and Bee were able to handle the past two akumas with ease and with little damage.

The first time around, the duo met with Ladybird’s kwami Tikki to help purify the akuma. But after witnessing Tikki eat the akuma before spitting it right out purified...let’s just say the duo were left a bit traumatized.

Not wanting to see that again, Chat and Bee decided to look for alternate ways to purify an akuma. Or at least get rid of them before causing more trouble.

“Wait, how did you not know?” Bee asked.

“Never tried.” Chat said with a slight shrug. “Which reminds me, I have to tell LB something after this.”

Queen Bee noticed how Chat frowned, his eyes becoming dull.

“You too?” Bee asked, watching as Chat’s ring was down to its last pad.

“Wait, what do you mean by ‘you too’?”

“I have to leave for the States in a few weeks. Something about having to keep appearances and the sorts.” Bee huffed, watching the Parisian sky starting to darken.

“What are the odds? I also have business in the States, although it’s more about business than appearances in my case.”

“Seeing as the two of us have to tell LB, how about we tell her the news together?” Bee suggested.

“Sounds like a plan. Although it has to wait for some other day. Right now, I have a meeting to attend, so later!”

Queen Bee watched as Chat Noir left the training grounds in a hurry, noticing the fake smile plastered on his face.

“You’re being dragged into it too, aren’t you?”

“Morning.” Marinette told Adrien and Chloé, much to the surprise of everyone else in the class.

How did the trio become friends overnight? And wasn’t Marinette best friends with Alya?

“Marinette. The sun is out, I’m having a great hair day and all you can say is morning?” Chloé huffed. “Good morning to you too.”

“Hello Marinette! Feeling any better?” Adrien decided to ignore Chloe, Marinette nodding.

“To be honest, a bit. Still got to take my medication and rest, but staying in bed won’t do me any good.”

Amira recalled the text message she received this morning, her father asking her how she was.

Selina had filled him in when he called back, telling him about the situation. Amira also learned of his visit through the baker’s surveillance cameras.

While she had told him that she didn’t care what he did, it hurt to see that he came to visit her.

Then again...what right did she have to feel sad that he didn’t try to talk to her when she’s already pushed him?

“-to Marinette. You see Adrikins? I’m telling you, she needs to stay-“

“He could’ve at least let me have known he came over.” Chloé and Adrien found Marinette mumbling, a frown on her face.

“He? Did someone-“ Adrien started only for Miss Bustier to walk into the class and start the class.

Chloe watched as Marinette zoned out during their first class, watching as Alya didn’t bother to check in with her supposed ‘best’ friend.

Marinette continued to zone out throughout the entire morning and then acting if nothing was wrong once lunch came around.

It bothered Chloe so much and she didn’t know. Why did it bother her to see Marinette act as if she wasn’t in pain when it was clear as day?

“Ladybird!” Chat called out, snapping Bee from her thoughts. It’s been three days since she last saw Ladybird, watching as their leader greeted them with a slight smile on her face. “Feeling better?”

Deja vu much?

“Chat. Bee. I’ve been doing well. Master Fu gave me the okay to return back to patrolling despite not wanting me being here.”

“How come?” Bee asked, looking out to the Parisian skyline. Tonight, it seemed foreign.

“One word: Hawkmoth.” Ladybird stated, watching as her partners looked at her with narrowed eyes. “If I stay for too long out of commission, not only will we be giving him more answers about the miraculous, but he’ll know our weakness.”

“But-”

“He’s probably caught up with the most recent information regarding the damage left behind from Dark Owl. Can’t exactly hide the evidence left behind at the stadium and his office.”

Ladybird watched as Bee and Chat nervously laughed at that, remembering the large pile of rust left at the stadium and the amount of tech to clean out of Principal Damocles’ office.

“Do you think he knows about you and-” Bee started, only to stop when LB nodded.

“He might know I’m not suited for the Ladybug, but there are also other possibilities.”

“Which are?”

“I’m like him.” Ladybird bluntly stated, getting titled heads for a reaction. “I have another life outside the mask that makes me mia.”

“Wouldn’t that apply to all of-”

“Not exactly. The two of you are mostly active, always at the scene as soon as possible. As for me, I don’t usually appear until minutes later or until halfway. That can mean many things. One, I’m a sickly person outside the mask, therefore I take longer to arrive. Or similarly, I live a little bit outside of Paris, thus making me tardy. Third-”

“You might be an adult,” Bee stated, watching Chat look at LB with large eyes. What did he figure out?

“Or you might be someone of a high standing who can’t afford to leave their place in society to fight him, a man who has all the time to be ready to akumatize someone at a moment’s notice.”

Guess LB wasn’t expecting that answer, judging from her taken back expression.

“Right on. To think you got it on your first try.”

“Wait, you’re rich?” Bee screeched out, looking at Chat for back up. “I mean, that would explain the burner phones, the equipment at the- you have the money to buy out an entire floor!”

“Yes Bee. I’m rich, although it’s my father who’s rich and was stupid enough to forget to take away my black card.”

“You have a black card?” LB and Chat watched as Bee continued to freak out.

“What’s a black card?” Chat decided to ask, earning concerned faces from the girls. “What?”

“How do you not know what a black card is, Chat! It’s literally the symbol of being filthy rich! Not even Daddy has one!” Bee exclaimed, promptly shutting her mouth.

“You’re rich too, Bee? Wow. To think we all come from a-”

“You’re rich too?” The girls exclaimed, the trio bursting into laughter.

The three chatted for hours, learning more about themselves. Time went on, the three kids laughing and holding their stomachs as they told tales of their past and of the present. However, Bee picked up on the way Ladybird avoided talking about her father and urged the other two to talk.

What was she hiding?

“Does that make us the rich kid club?” Chat asked, earning a stifled laugh from LB and a ‘seriously?’ look from Bee. “What? It seems fitting!”

“As much as I’d like to continue to stay and talk, I think we should be heading home. It’s one in the morning and I have class tomorrow.” Bee and Chat nodded in agreement, the three bidding each other farewell.

“So two days, huh.” Amira hummed, watching as Selina packed her bag. While it was two in the morning, Amira thought it would be best to drop by and visit Selina. The talk with her team left her in a giddy state, Amira wondering why she even came here.

“Actually, I might be leaving tomorrow evening.”

“Why?” While Amira still wasn’t particularly fond of the woman, she felt a part of her wanted Selina to stay. Perhaps it was the fact that Selina had been by her side these past few days.

Or the denial that continued to linger in Amira. That she enjoyed Selina’s concern over her.

While Selina was by her side, Amira didn’t have restless nights where she would wake up from dreams she couldn’t remember. But from what Sabine had told her, Amira used to have nights where she would be waking up screaming and calling out Jason’s name like a madwoman.

But ever since Selina came over, they stopped happening. “What made you-”

“The gala was pushed forward towards this month. Towards Thanksgiving.”

“Why would-”

“Dick had made the decision to push it forward after getting a phone call in regards to the main event of this year’s gala.”

“Main event?” Amira asked, now wondering what type of event caused Dick to push up the date of the gala. What event caused her father to accept the change of date from it’s usually wintery day?

“This year, Bruce was eagerly planning the main event with such pride, making sure everything was perfect to announce the main event. But then, Jason’s...Jason’s death happened and-

“The Catherine Todd Foundation.” Amira whispered, feeling her heart stop.

That’s right. How did she forget? How dare she forget? How dare she forget her brother’s dream?

“That’s right.” Selina closed her suitcase shut. “Bruce was planning to reveal the latest Wayne foundation-Jason’s foundation- that he had planned for months.”

“That was planned...for this year’s gala?” Amira asked, feeling her mouth dry.

Her father didn’t utter a word about it. Nor did Dick. Did...did they not-

“Amira. Amira, look at me.” Selina coaxed, cupping Amira’s face into her hands. “Dick just found out about it when he got a call about one of the sponsors. The sponsor wanted to change the date to make sure-”

“Why didn’t he tell me about it?” Amira whispered, feeling something roll down her face, salt meeting her lips. “Why did no one-”

“Amira, kitten. Dick hasn’t called you in a while, right?” A slow nod. “He’s been busy setting up the gala in your father’s steed. Bruce...your father holed himself again in his study when he found out the sponsor had called in. He...he had forgotten about it. It slipped his mind after-”

“He could’ve called me so I could’ve helped him rework the-”

“Amira.”

“I could've helped!”

“Amira, Dick couldn’t-“

“You wouldn’t understand Selina! You don’t know-“

“I do.” Selina said softly, holding Amira’s trembling hands. “Just like you, I loved the brat to pieces.”

“You’ve...you loved Jason?”

“Sure, we didn’t get on the right foot, but I did go to love the boy. Little brat loved to play dirty. Remember he endangered his life once just so I would catch him and make me drop my guard.”

“Sounds just about him.” Amira softly said, Selina picking up on her relaxation. “Jason liked playing dirty, no matter who he was up against. Once he popped his arm off its socket during one of our sparring lessons, which caused me to stop fighting. When I went to check on him, he popped it back in and won the match.

Even though I knew he was alright, I started bawling and hugged him. Father and Alfred came running to see what had happened and when Jason told him what he had done, Father scolded him. ‘Sometimes, you have to play dirty. A fight in Gotham will never be fair and square, old man. You, better than anyone else, should know that.’” Amira said with a smile. “He’d always use that against Father and would win his case. Or perhaps Father let him, knowing that using those tricks would help in a fight one day.”

“And it did, although it mostly grossed out Riddler when he saw Jason do that. Should’ve seen the look at his face.” Selina said with a chuckled, reminiscing that day.

“I would rather have Jason back than wishing to have seen that.” Amira admitted, looking at Selina with unshed tears. “Jason… Jason was the glue that held us together. He was the one who brought us together, so when...when he died...we...we-” a shuddering breath escaped Amira. “We fell apart...

Dad became so broken that he began to isolate himself from us. He would shut himself in his study for hours and from what Dick told me - days! When I was still in the manor, we wouldn’t see him at dinner nor would we hear from him unless he came back home frustrated from a work meeting.

He no longer made time for us. For Dick...nor me. He allowed himself to drown in his work, both as CEO of WE and Batman”

“Amira.” Selina softly said, wiping away the tears that had been running down Amira’s face.

“When I finally got to talk to him again...it was to tell me I was being sent to Paris.

He didn’t even let me say goodbye to anyone, not even Jason...

He was at it again. He was isolating me again, but this time to a place where I couldn’t do anything no matter what I tried. I would have no friends to help me, nor connections to help me break out of my father’s control. The only option I was left with was to obey.”

“But Amira, you have friends now. You have people you can lean on. So why? Why can’t you-”

“It was all Jason.” Amira said. “Jason managed to convince Father to let me explore the outside, not me.

Jason was the one who made Dad understand that I shouldn't be kept inside like a trophy bird. That I should be allowed to spread my wings, to grow. How did he do it? I would never know, but I wish he had shown me how.

I only knew how to yell and scream to get what I wanted. I wasn’t like Jason who proved he was right, who fought for what he deemed just.”

“Amira, you don’t have to keep-”

“I do, Selina! I do!” Amira cried, digging her hands into her hair. “My father won’t see nor talk to me otherwise if I don’t! Father never understood the damage he’s done to me unless I show it to him. He’s...he’s!”

Selina pulled Amira into a hug, feeling the girl stiffen in her hold. Selina held the girl tight against her, letting tears run down her face that she didn’t know she was holding back.

To hear the amount of pain she was holding in, the amount of troubles she had to deal with...and to think Bruce was the cause of the majority of it.

“Your feelings are valid Amira, your frustrations are as well. But trust me when I say, things will get better and you’re already doing a wonderful job of moving forward.” Selina began to stroke Amira’s hair when she felt Amira tremble. “It may seem as if the situation isn’t getting any better, but it is due to your efforts of wanting to change it.

So give yourself a break and just let it all out. I’ll make sure to protect while you do.”

That was all Amira needed to let herself cry out her heart, hugging Selina back as she wailed her soul out.

Selina drew circles on her back as she sat there, making sure to not let Amira go.

How did Bruce let it get this bad?

“You’re going to the States?” Marinette asked, looking up from her calendar in her planner.

It’s been two days since Amira last saw Selina, already missing her. It took everything in her to not beg her to stay. To not leave her...but she knew better than that. She had to leave and Amira had to respect that.

So here she was, letting her mind try to forget Selina’s warm hug and the calmness she felt when Selina hugged her.

“Yup!” Adrien said with a smile that Marinette could look through from a mile away.

“Adrien and I were both invited to some event that our parents want us to attend, something about having to keep images and whatnot.” Chloe elaborated, noticing the last Thursday in the month circled in red. What a coincidence. “As happy as I am that my mother called me, I didn’t want it to be this way.”

“At least she gave you the choice. My father is threatening me with going or not being able to leave the house again.” Adrien bluntly stated, flinching when Marinette narrowed her eyes. “Baguette, what’s-“

“He threatened you? Your father threatened you?” Chloé and Adrien could feel the murderous intent seeping from the girl. “Let me talk with-“

“Baguette! It’s alright! I told him I’ll do it on a few conditions!” Adrien practically scrambled the details out. He watched as Marinette softened a bit.

“Conditions?”

“For starters, he’ll let me go with Chloé. No Nathalie nor Gorilla. Second, he will not be allowed to contact me nor Chloé. If I need his help or if I want to go back, I have to be the one to call him back. Third and final one, if I manage to settle a meeting between him and one of the people he told me to make contact with, he has to agree to let me do whatever I want for the rest of the year.”

“Wow Adrikins. Since when did you start stepping up towards your dad?”

“Since I realized that my so-called freedom is still being controlled. If I fully want to be free, I have to start by loosening my father’s control over me. So far, I’ve been seeing results from my efforts. I don’t plan on backing down until I fully achieve my goal.”

Marinette watched as Adrien smiles proudly, not being able to hold back her own smile.

“Hope you reach it Adrien. I know it’ll be worth it. So then, when’s the event?”

“It’s in three weeks, the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. Adrien and I will be attending Wayne Gala.”

Ladybird looked at Bee and Chat with the same look she had given Adrien and Chloé.

“The both of you? The two of you are going to be mia in three weeks?” Ladybird asked in disbelief, watching as the two of them rubbed the back of their heads. First Chole and Adrien and now these two? “Do you realize-“

“It’s why we’re telling you now and not later this week or next. We know-“

“Do you really?” Ladybird growled, huffing as she turned around, the Parisian night staring right back at her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn't have-“

“No, you’re right.” Chat said, Ladybird picking up on his sorrow. “It is stupid of us to leave you-“

“Master Fu.” Ladybird casually said, looking at Bee and Chat. “I can ask Master Fu to see what I can do.”

“Master Fu?” Bee asked, looking at Chat for clarification.

“Oh right, you’ve never heard about him. He’s the one who chooses the wielders for the miraculouses. He’s the one who chose Ladybird and me. As for you, you were recommended to be a wielder as I vouched for Rena Rouge to be a temporary holder.”

“Wait. I was recommended to-“

“I recommended Master Fu to give you a miraculous. However, that doesn’t mean I fully know your identity. I did recommend two people to become Pollen’s holder after all.” Ladybird looked at Bee who was on the verge of tears. “Guess Master Fu chose the better of the two and I’m glad he did. You’re a great partner.”

Bee ran and threw herself at Ladybird, the two girls tumbling to the floor as Chat just stood there smiling.

“I promise to make up for the time we miss!”

“Don’t worry about it Bee. The two of you shouldn’t worry about a thing. Everything will turn out alright. You’ll see.”

No. Everything didn’t turn out alright.

The day came where Chat and Bee bid LB a temporary goodbye and Adrien and Chloe boarded a plane towards Gotham. The minute they said goodbye, Amira grew restless, uneasy.

It didn’t help that this uneasiness traversed towards her civilian life as well.

As she walked into the school, it felt like if everyone was watching her every move, judging her.

It was Gotham Academy all over again...

Wally had assured it that it was going to be fine, that she was worrying over nothing.

But Amira knew better than to ignore the emptiness she felt in her chest.

Sure, Alya talked her ears off, but Marinette didn’t like the feeling of emptiness around her despite Alya’s clear company.

Without Chloé and Adrien, everything just seemed...off.

She didn’t realize their importance until chemistry class.

She watched people get into pairs as Miss Mendeleiev finished telling her instructions for today’s lab. With the clap of her hands, everyone started to pair up...except her.

“Miss Mendeleiev. I don’t seem to have a partner. If it’s alright, can I-“

“No partner?” Miss Mendeleiev asked, realizing only then that three of her students were out. “I can’t just let you do the lab by yourself Marinette. It’s unsafe.”

“Miss Mendeleiev, I am fine being on my-“

“Now, now. You know that in my lab, no one is allowed to touch the chemicals without a partner.” Miss Mendeleiev clapped her hands to get the class’ attention. “While it seems like everyone has a partner, Marinette doesn’t. Now, who would love to have her in their group or volunteers to be Marinette’s partner?”

Marinette’s didn’t need to turn around to know no one raised their hand.

After all, she was always doing labs with Sabrina or Alya, although this time around, Alya had promised Alix to be her lab partner. That left Marinette to be partnerless this time around.

“So no one is going to volunteer? That’s alright. Nino, please help Marinette with this lab. Kim, join Ivan and Mylène.”

Marinette heard as Nino approached her, turning slowly to avoid seeing everyone else pity him.

“Look forward to working with you.” Marinette said with a slight bow, only to receive nothing in return.

Seems like this would be a long lab.

Or not.

Marinette somehow ended up talking up a storm with Nino.

“You do parkour?” Nino asked, looking as if Marinette grew a second head. “No offense, you don’t even look like the type-“

“Parkour, gymnastics and martial arts. Of course, I haven’t touched gymnastics in a while since my mentor has been busy. Doesn’t help that he’s on the other side of the world.” Marinette said, pouring the hydrogen peroxide into the water and then into the catalase test tube. She watched as the latter created bubbles.

“Dudette, that’s amazing!” Nino exclaimed, opening up his notebook to the back of his page.

“Dudette?” Marinette looked at the page he opened, noticing some notes about a personal project. How did she come to that conclusion? Simple. It said ‘Directed by Nino Lahiffe.’

“Ah, I should’ve asked if-“

“It’s fine. Just taken aback by the name since it’s my first time hearing it.”

“Really? What do your friends call you then?”

“My brother calls Mimi and my friend calls me Bugette.”

“Alya calls you Bugette?” Nino asked, writing down his observations of the catalase in boiling water.

“As much as Alya thinks she’s my friend, she isn’t quite there. And it’s Wally who calls me Bugette. He’s a friend of mine before I transferred here.” Marinette elaborated, sliding her notebook towards him. “Haven’t spoken to him in a few days though.”

“Alright class!” Miss Mendeleiev said with a clap of her hands. “At this time, start wrapping up your workstation! Make sure to properly rinse out the tubes and place them into their appropriate-“

“Marinette. Is it alright to call you dudette? Of course, if you don’t-“

“I’m fine with it.” Marinette told him with a smile. “I don’t mind being called dudette, Nino.”

“-only known her for 30 minutes. How can you say that she wasn’t doing all the work so that-” Marinette heard as she approached the windows that belonged to her classroom. She stopped before they could see her through the glass.

If her ears didn’t betray her, the one speaking right now was-

“Alix, she wasn’t doing all the work. We both did the lab toget-”

“She’s friends with Chloe.” Ivan added.

“How do you expect us-”

“You didn’t try to even get to know her. Yes, I also didn’t want to interact with her before being paired up with her, but now I wish I did. I wish I had talked to her earlier on in the school year and you guys should too! She’s-”

“You shouldn’t pressure others to try and talk to me Nino.” Marinette said, strolling into the classroom. “Let them take their time to try and approach me.” Marinette handed Nino a piece of paper. “I also looked into a few things you mentioned earlier and thought I should give you this. They’re always giving out free courses and workshops, so I thought I should let you know.”

Nino looked at the paper Marinette gave him and was surprised to see a list of different companies and dates in which they held workshops for upstarting directors.

Just as he was about to ask where she had gotten the information from, the bell rang, signaling the beginning of the next class.

Amira wishes she was able to escape Anansi’s punches just as quickly as she was able to bolt out the classroom earlier that day.

Amira had been trying to call Wally, trying to get any info on her two friends who should’ve have arrived at Gotham when her phone began to yell ‘AKUMA ALERT.’

So having to leave her worries behind, Amira yelled ‘SPOTS ON’ as she headed towards Hawkmoth’s latest Victim.

Rolling away from Anansi’ punches and parrying them took a toll on Ladybird, feeling the air leave her body as she was slammed onto the ferris wheel structure.

Managing to find a safe space within an alleyway, Ladybird reached for her burner phone when she was reminded of her dilemma.

Her two partners were away...she told them not to worry…

“Here you are!” Anansi roared, striking the alleyway where Ladybird was hiding, causing the vigilante to become airborne. As Ladybird crashed onto the pavement, the transformation was called off, Tikki opening her mouth to scold Amira for dropping her transformation when she promptly closed her mouth.

Calling her transformation off, when she crashed onto the pavement and scrambled her way towards another alley.

“Tikki, go to Master Fu.”

“But-” Amira looked at Tikki with stern eyes.

“Tikki, go and don’t worry about me. I don’t have super strength but that doesn’t mean I don’t have a plan.”

“Amira.” Tikki whimpered.

“You now what we have to do. Now go!” Taking one last look at Amira, Tikki flew off.

“Please be safe Amira. Please, don’t do anything reckless.”

“Come on Little Bug! Is that all you got?” Anansi smugly said, cracking her knuckles as she watched Ladybird wipe off the blood that seeped from her mouth.

Spitting out a bit of blood, Amira grinned. Beads of sweat rolled down her face, something Amira didn’t know she missed dearly.

“Did you really think that was my best? Come on Anansi, I thought it was pretty obvious what was going on here.”

“What are you talking about?” Anansi growled, noticing someone land behind Ladybird. Anansi watched as Ladybird glew red and healed her wounds. “You!”

“That’s right Anansi.” Ladybird grinned. “My backup is here. Carapace!”

“On it!” Carapace yelled, throwing his shield towards Anansi.

With a simple step to the side, Anansi was able to dodge it, only to get her foot wrapped by Ladybird, slipping backward as her back connected with the ground.

Carapace tried to land a hit, but missed when Anansi rolled to the side, but was then dragged towards Ladybird.

Swinging her foot to the side, Anansi shook Ladybird off when she noticed the makeshift ring around her.

How did they set that up? Who set it up when she was bust fending of both Ladybird and Carapace.

“Up for a round Anansi? Or are you afraid of losing against someone half your size and weight?” Ladybird challenged, the smug on her face fanning the annoyance within Anansi.

“You’re on Bug. Can’t wait to beat you and show you that a bug should never mess with a spider!”

“Come on Anansi! I thought you said this match will be over in one punch! Oh wait a minute! You can’t even land one!” Ladybird said in a haughty tone, causing Anansi to lunge at her, sending one final punch onto the Arc de Triomphe.

Anansi felt as the ground began to shake, only then realizing the trap Ladybird set down for her.

Grabbing something from the ground, Ladybird grabbed hold of Carapace and brought them to where Alya was being held hostage.

“Carapace, now!”

“Shellter!” Carapace yelled, shielding them as the Arc de Triomphe crumpled to the ground, trapping Anansi underneath.

Once the debris settled and the dust settled, Anansi’s headgear appeared by Ladybird’s feet, causing Ladybird to smile. Gleefully, Ladybird slammed her yo-yo against the thing and cracked it, the akuma emerging from it.

Capturing the akuma and purifying it, Ladybird yelled her words. “Miraculous Ladybug!”

Carapace watched with wonder as all the damage Anansi caused was repaired, the Arc de Triomphe restored before his eyes. “Meet me at the Eiffel Tower,” he heard Ladybird say before she swung away.

Ladybird stood at the Eiffel Tower, looking at the setting sun in the distance. She had yet to receive a call from-

“Ladybird! So, what do you think about-”

“Hold on Carapace.” Ladybird cut off, Carapace now wondering what was going on. “Not all of us are here.”

“All of us? But I thought-”

“Sorry for coming late!” A voice said, causing Carapace to jump.

Soon, something on the ground began to grow, the pink glow becoming bigger by the second. Emerging from the glow was a girl that seemed to resemble a mouse themed hero.

“Carapace, I’d like you to meet the other vigilante who helped us today.” Carapace remained silent as the mouse themed vigilante shyly waved at them, tucking a loose orange auburn hair strand behind her ear.

“Hi, my name is Gris. It was a great honor to work with you, Carapace. Ladybird.”

Pulling their luggage behind them, Adrien and Chloé scanned the welcoming area. Their flight lasted longer than what they thought it would be and they were ecstatic when they landed a few hours ago.

Their eyes landed on a gentleman with a poster board with their names on it.

When they approached the older man, they couldn’t help but notice the faintest smile on him.

“I presume you’re Mr.Pennyworth?” Adrien spoke up, Alfred nodding in response.

“I am Master Adrien. It's also a pleasure to meet you too, Miss Chloé. Welcome to Gotham.”

#maribat #amira wayne #bio!dadbrucewaynemonth2020 #bio!dad bruce wayne month 2020 #b!dbwm2020

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tooruluv · 3 years

Text

Kozume Kenma x F!Reader x Tetsurou Kuroo ( part 3 )

❝ i’m right here, when are you going to realize that i’m your cure, heartbreak girl? ❞

description: kozume kenma didn’t know the exact day in which he realized that he was in love with you. he knew very well that it was sometime after your first “hello”, but the exact moment got whisked away in the many memories that included you. the problem was, though, that you were in love with and in a serious relationship with the boy he claimed as a best friend.

genre: angst, pining, unrequited love, (characters are aged up as the story continues)

word count: 1,699

warnings/notes: wow long time no update! i think it’s nice to have a (short) fic that isn’t on a schedule hfhaf. anyway! ily all and hope you like this one <3

tag list: @elianetsantana @vhskenma @jennasquishy8 @chao01248

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“ all i want is nothing more than to hear you knocking at my door. ‘cause if i could see your face once more, i could die a happy man i’m sure. ”

┏━━━━━⋇⋆⋆⋇❦⋇⋆⋆⋇━━━━━┓

Kozume Kenma was growing exhausted.

It was exhausting to keep something, a secret, deep inside of him. Kenma was naturally a pretty honest person. To constantly press down his love for you was physically draining. Loving you was exhausting.

But the minute you turned to him in the car, body pressed against his side, asking him about his video game, he figured the exhaustion was worth it.

Bokuto pulled the car into a dirt driveway to reveal the biggest beach house Kenma had ever seen. It was painted a dusty blue-green color, but it was pretty worn with browns. Endless windows faced the water, where a boat and two circles of chairs formed around two fire pits.

Other’s had already made it, so Kenma heard his name being called before he could even take it all in. Hinata.

“Kenma! I wasn’t expecting you to be here!”

“I wasn’t expecting you to be here, either.” Kenma said as he got out of the car. You got out on Kuroo’s side (it was a small detail but he couldn’t help but notice).

“Yeah, the whole Karasuno team came!” Hinata’s smile was so bright it hurt. “Oh, do you want to share a room with me! Kageyama didn’t want to room with me and…”

“Yeah, sure.”

“I thought we were going to share a room.” Kuroo spoke up from where he was grabbing things from the trunk.

“Sharing a room with Hinata makes more sense.” Kenma said. “Now you can share with Bokuto.” And both of your girlfriends.

“Hell yeah!” Bokuto exclaimed from the other side of the car.

As you all grabbed your things and Kenma endured Hinata rambling on about playing beach volleyball later, he couldn’t help but look at you. You caught his glance almost instantly and sent him a perfect smile.

When Kuroo put his arm around your shoulders and you tore your gaze from his, Kenma felt a punch to his gut.

Shoyo Hinata may not have been the smartest person alive, but he was not stupid. And being a volleyball player means that his observational skills were maxed out.

Hinata’s girlfriend, a swimmer named Hayami, wrapped her arm around his. He flushed and smiled but his attention was focused on a certain Nekoma setter.

“You think he likes her?” Hayami asked, looking in the same direction.

“Yeah.” He replied. “And I don’t think Kuroo knows.”

“They’re best friends, right?”

“Yeah. That’s why I think Kenma would keep it to himself.”

“He really is your best friend, huh?” Hiyami giggled, and Hinata’s smile didn’t falter.

“I like to think so.”

As a welcome to the end, the night was spent partying. Both of the fires were lit, and everyone was spread out along the beach house. You were sitting on Kuroo’s lap on the sand, both of you with full cups in your hands.

Kenma hadn’t even taken a sip of his yet he felt sick.

Kenma wanted to tell Kuroo.

Oh, how he wanted to tell his best friend of his yearning. He wanted to sit him down, confess his love for you, and be on his way.

But there was absolutely no way that was happening. None.

Not while he hugged you from your back in front of everyone. Not while Kuroo’s eyes sparkled while looking at you. Not while your smile brightened at the sight of him.

Kozume Kenma knew his best friend. He knew that Kuroo would do anything and everything for him. If Kenma asked for it, he would get it. That’s how it always had been with them.

“Kuroo, can I have the red bucket?” Kenma would ask as kids, and Kuroo would hand it to him. Or, “Kuroo, this tastes awful.” And he would simply switch his good-tasting drink for Kenma’s bitter one.

And he knew that if he asked Kuroo for you, he would simply give you up. Because that’s who Kuroo is: selfless and full of love.

There was absolutely no way Kenma would do that.

It was two days before your first fight with Tetsurou Kuroo. It was two days of peace and nothing but love between you both.

And it was late at night when Kenma woke up to you.

You didn’t say anything. You simply appeared in Kenma and Hinata’s shared room and slipped into the bottom bunk next to Kenma.

He woke up to the feeling of the blanket being lifted, groggily taking in his surroundings. The second he realized it was you, he only moved over and gave you a little bit more blanket.

Both of you laid on your backs, staring at the upper bunk that Hinata was passed out in. Even in the dark he could see your tears.

There were no words exchanged. Your bodies squished against each other on the small bed, hidden under the blanket. He could feel your breath.

You curled into his side, and Kenma felt like he was going to astral project. You were an out of body experience.

Kenma woke up to an empty bed.

When were you going to realize that Tetsurou Kuroo was not meant to be yours, and you were in fact meant to be with someone else?

Never, he answered once he walked into the kitchen to see Kuroo hugging your back as you grabbed a snack from the counter.

The thing about unrequited love is that it hurts more than regular pining. Unrequited love hurts physically, it causes pains in the chest and stomach aches beyond anything experienced before. Pining after someone… well, it’s full of hope and fear of rejection.

Unrequited love is sitting in wait while you watch someone you love love someone else.

And that is comparable to death.

On the boat, Kenma only watched you.

As Bokuto steered you through the water and the wind blew into your face, he could only sit and watch. Everyone was too busy doing their own thing to notice.

Kuroo plopped in the seat next to him, arm behind Kenma’s head and cheeks dusted in red.

“Did you put sunscreen on?” Kuroo asked, tapping his best friend’s arm. “You’re getting red.”

“So are you.”

The thing was, Kenma wasn’t red from the sun.

The neverending party was dying for that night. Drunken laughs and make out sessions were fading out and back into the house.

And Kenma was exhausted.

“I’m in love with you.” Kenma told you. A simple statement.

It was only the two of you. He looked at you, but you focused your attention on the flames of the fire. The oranges and reds danced along your skin, the shadows reflected against the glow in your eyes. The fire might’ve been burning but Kenma felt cold.

“I figured that you should know.” He shrugged. Because it wasn’t a confession, nor was it supposed to make you feel awkward or choose a guy. It was simply the truth.

“Kenma,” You finally spoke, turning towards him. Your eyes met.

“You don’t have to say anything.” He interrupted you.

“Kenma,” You tried again. This time, you reached for him across the fabric arm of the lawn chair you were sitting in. He let you wrap your hand around his wrist. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Like I said, you don’t have to say anything.” Kenma turned his head from yours.

The rest of the night concluded with the both of you facing the fire. Your hand stayed on his, as if he wasn’t real if you weren’t touching him. His heart hammered his chest. Yet, he felt a bit relieved to feel free of the exhaustion it was to keep the secret.

As the fire died, you two stayed.

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