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aphrodite-would-be-proud · 3 years

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I blame you sunshine anon for this sin I'm committing.

Armin having a crush on you while you're with Eren hc

{ Armin x reader, implied Eren x reader | tw:possessive tw:unhealthy-friendships, tw:lowkey-toxic tw:jealousy | pinning, angst, drama, thirst | modern }

{ "The pool by the garden gate" by Thomas Edwin Mostyn 1864-1930 }

You met outside the library, he's was looking forward to relaxing after a long day with his new stack of books he just checked out, too lost in his own daydreams that he didn't see where he was going when bumping into you.

Quick to apologise, he helped you up. Instead of getting mad you chuckled at his clumsiness after he explained what caused him to not pay attention, and for some reason the sound of your laughter made his heart just beat a bit faster.

Summoning all the courage he's been building up, he invited you to the nearby cafe, his treat.

Armin doesn't do well with strangers nor small talk but by whatever miracle, talking to you at that cafe didn't feel uncomfortable at all. Listening to you talk about the weather while sipping on his strawberry milkshake was actually quiet nice, your voice was quiet nice.

He thought you were quiet nice and lovely.

The two of you ended up exchanging numbers after that, he went home that day with a little more bounce to his steps and a little more curl to his smile.

You ended up texting all night. And by the end of the week, you've managed to keep a streak of daily texts and calls despite your busy schedule. He listened to every voice message, he reread every sweet text, he admired every picture you sent.

And by the second week, the two of you agreed to meet again. So he took you to the nearby beach, you had a nice walk, collected some really pretty seashells and shared an ice cream and he was enjoying every second of it.

By the third week, you called him at 3am for a really important reason. He listened to you despite how tempting sleep was, he was understanding and compassionate, he managed to relate to your worries and calm them at the same time.

Despite it being around 5am when the call ended, he found himself not really minding it or even bothered by it, because it was you.

And by the end of the month, when the two of you drove to a farm to pick up fruits together, he realised how deeply in love with you he has fallen.

You couldn't look more perfect under the sun with a basket full of strawberries if you tried. You looked like an angel in his mind.

He was in love, and every thing you did together just made him fall more and more for you.

You went on walks together, he got you into playing chess and you introduced him to your hobbies.

Hanging out with him was the most comfortable, you'd listen to music while each of you did their own thing. Maybe even watch a murder mystery movie or two after and trying to guess who the killer is together.

Day by day it only got better, it was going good..no scratch that, it was going great actually. He's never felt so in rhythm with someone before, so comfortable to be his true self while still trusting you wouldn't judge him.

So he decided to push things to the next level, he wanted you in his life and to tell you how he felt. It's been three months since you've met and so far you've showed nothing but green flags.

That's when he decided to confess, but before that he had to introduce you to his friends, the most people he cares about in one room! What could possibly go wrong?

Everything, apparently.

More specifically, introducing you to Eren, the biggest mistake of his life.

Because instead of the usual teasing Armin would get for being late to his friend's house or texting them less frequently, It was Eren getting the teasing.

The only difference is, Eren had no shame, he didn't feel a need to justify himself for hogging all your time, for ditching the plans he makes with Mikasa and Armin just because you called.

If anything Eren had all the audacity to pull you to sit beside him whenever they hang in a group, or to just casually wrap his hand around your shoulder, even interrupting your conversations with Armin just so he can tell a joke to make you laugh.

And that turned into Eren being the one driving you back home despite Armin bringing you here.

Somehow and for whatever reason, Eren seemed to latch on to you. Taking you to movies, late night drives with him, even introducing you to his mom.

Armin likes to think the best of his friends, and Eren is his childhood friend, even his first ever friend. So you can't blame him for hoping Eren would read between the lines and take a fucking hint.

Eren had to know, he had to. But he's a good friend, he wouldn't steal someone Armin made it clear he's interested in right.

....right?

1am, Armin has been sitting up in bed for a while, he can't sleep. The project he's been working on is doesn't want to work out right and Armin is slowly losing patience with the deadline creeping over.

He doesn't even realise how long he's been lost over-thinking in his head till the laptop's screen turns black and goes into sleep mode, he stares at his tired reflection.

He feels lost and stuck at the same time, he closes his eyes and tries to clear his mind.

You pop into his mind, he glances at the phone for a good minute before dialling your number.

It rings, and rings, he's getting anxious.

It's alright, he tells himself, this isn't the first time he called you late at night, you actually called him at really late times too so what is he stressing about.

Why is there a feeling of dread in his chest.

The ringing stops, you pick up and for a second he seems to light up a bit.

except it wasn't you who picked up the phone.

It was Eren, answering him from your phone, sounding like he just woke up.

At 1am.

And it was Eren walking around with hickies on his neck the next day.

Armin felt emotions he never thought he'd ever feel towards his best friend when he got out of the shower that day, marks and hickies littering his skin.

Very, very ugly emotions.

Mikasa asks what is Eren getting ready for when he begins dressing up fancier than usual. "Date with y/n" was all he said before leaving

Armin still swears Eren looked at him with a knowing look just before he left.

He tried to reason with himself that it probably wouldn't last long, Eren is either messing with him intentionally or it's just a fling that's taking too long right?

...right?

It's been 6 fucking months, Armin has been counting.

And you're still with Eren, and he's still just as clingy and possessive as when you first met. Apparently the honeymoon phase wasn't a phase because he still insists you only sit near him, he still acts like you're the only two in the room with little regard to what's socially appropriate.

Armin internally cringes whenever Eren wraps his arm around your waist, or puts his hand on your thigh.

His stomach turns whenever Eren whispers something in your ear, his fingers dig in his palm whenever you look away flustered and slighly red after that.

He's not jealous, he tells himself while scrolling through the third picture Eren posted of you on his story, you're laying on his bed, his head on your thighs as he looks at the camera with smug eyes.

Armin almost cracks his phone screen.

"It was supposed to be me" he thinks each time Eren pulls you for a kiss simply because he felt like it.

It was supposed to be him surprising you with a gift on valentine's day, it was supposed to be him kissing your neck after getting a little too drunk, and now it's Eren doing it instead.

It was supposed to be him...it was never supposed to be Eren, it's not fair, he knew you first.

It was supposed to be beach trips and funfair dates, it was supposed to be reading books together and watching mystery movies, just you and Armin.

Not fucking Eren.

why, why would this happen to him? He was going to confess to you, he even prepared a letter and date plans and everything.

It's not fair how much it hurts, how much he misses you.

He knew you first, he wanted you and goddammit he still does even with you dating his bestfriend, he still wants you with every part of his body and mind.

And it eats him up at night, the guilt and bad thoughts of knowing just how wrong it is to wish Eren and you would just break up already, to wish he could just swoop in and take you from his arms.

It's a constant cycle of feeling high on love, feeling anger and then feeling the crushing guilt.

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bxthharmon · 3 years

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Pink Champagne (1) - Benny Watts x Reader

Words: 2154

Series Warnings: Drinking, substance and alcohol abuse, addiction, smoking

Pt. Warnings: implied alcohol abuse, smoking

A/N: idk how regular updates will be and idk where tf this is going but here we are lol

“masterlist”

“You’re a woman.”

The twelve year old looks up at the speaker, her mother, apprehensive. She does not consider herself as a woman, not yet anyway. Besides, the older woman was drunk - but then again, when wasn’t she?

“Not only that, you’re a pretty woman, with a kind heart. You’re just like I was.” the mother props her head up with her hands, elbows on the table as she faces her only daughter. “Men will use you. They will hurt you and bring you down and they will break you because they can. Don’t let them. Don’t let them hurt you, be strong. You have brothers, and they are strong, but not like me and you are strong. They fight with their fists and think with their dicks. Us? We fight with our words and think with our brains. Keep your head up, don’t let them push you around.” the women, staring at each other in a conflicting sense of understanding and resentment, stay silent. The mother, resenting her child for still having the opportunities that she missed, and adoring that her daughter could still be something. The young girl, resenting being told how to live her life, but adoring the fact that her mother cared enough to tell her things like this.

The mother, always the first one to break, stands, stretching, then reaching for another bottle.

Paris was everything that was expected. Y/N shopped and drank and fucked in that oddly cinematic way that everything in Paris happened, wasting two months of her life partying. She did a photoshoot for a new advertising campaign for a fashion house she is the ambassador for, and as always, got bored. After six weeks, she wound up in the same position she had been in so many times before, stocking up on months worth of wine, then finishing it within two weeks. After two months in Paris, she lay on top of the covers of her bed, wondering if she should have taken Beth up on her offer. She hadn’t spoken to any of her American friends since she left, and of the people she had seen in person, she knew that they had no connections to her American friends, so she felt safe.

Out of alcohol and cigarettes, she considered sending the door boy to get some, or even going herself, and decided to do neither. It was at this point that she realised that she had eaten a sum total of four things in two weeks, all of which were snacks, and was drinking herself to death. She decided that she wanted French toast and that overly fancy Columbian pressed coffee from the cafe down the road. She would get cigarettes on the way. So she dressed and left, greeting the surprised door boy on her way out. She bought her cigarettes, ate her French toast, drank her coffee, then considered her next move.

London was out of the question - she’d only just remembered that she’d sold her apartment. That left New York, Los Angeles or Beth’s offer of Kentucky. Los Angeles never ended well, and she didn’t want to get dragged into anything by her manager. Kentucky or New York? She would have to call Beth to decide.

So she traipsed back to her glamorous apartment and dialed Beth’s number, letting it ring out a few times before giving up. So Beth wasn’t at home, was she just out, or in New York? She knew the only way to find out would be through Harry or Benny. She chose Harry. Things between her and Benny were… well, she didn’t know what they were.

“Y/N?”

“Don’t sound so surprised.”

“I am though - you never call.”

“Phone calls are so much hassle.”

“More hassle than seeing people in person?”

She paused, unable to outwit him, especially given the hangover she could feel creeping up on her. “Is Beth in Kentucky at the moment?”

“Beth? No.” he answered, “Why?”

“Do you know where she is?”

“She doesn’t have any tournaments, so New York, why?”

“I want to see her.”

“Why didn’t you just call Benny?”

“Don’t worry, thanks though.”

“Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t be. Bye.”

“Bye?”

She slammed the phone into its holder, sighing loudly.

She’d always known she would have to see Benny eventually, but even after over two months since that night, she wasn’t ready. Besides, what was to say he wanted to see her? She slumped down into the armchair next to her phone, surveying her room and realising that he had been right - so had Beth - her drinking was getting out of hand. She stood with determination, picking up clothes from around the room and stuffing them into her wardrobe, which was already overflowing, and picking up all the bottles she could find to fill a couple of large paper bags. When she was done, the room felt cleaner, and she dragged the two paper bags out of her apartment and pushed them down the rubbish chute. She returned to her apartment, rummaging around to find a bag in the depths of her wardrobe. Once she had, she carefully picked out clothes, knowing that once she was back in America, the press would be all over her. She had clothes at Benny’s anyway, but she hated travelling without a suitcase - it made her feel bare. Before she left, she grabbed a pair of sunglasses and straightened herself out, checking that she was definitely wearing shoes and that her outfit all matched.

She carried her suitcase down with a little struggle, gave a couple of euros to the door boy for no reason in particular, and caught a taxi to the airport. The taxi driver, having recognised her instantly, seemed restless and kept telling her about how his twelve-year old-daughter wanted to be a model just like Y/N. She brushed it off, paying him well and buying the next flight she could at the front desk, rushing through customs to catch it. She tried to ignore the looks and comments she got as people realised who she was.

She didn’t sleep on the flight, instead ordering drink after drink, wondering what her mother would say if she could see her only daughter. Or Beth for that matter. She didn’t have to wonder what Benny would say, he had said it plenty of times before. When she left the airport, a crusade of reporters were awaiting her, and she had almost forgotten how the press could be. She persevered to a yellow cab, and let it take her to Benny’s. Standing outside, the harsh cold of autumn pushed her towards the door. She descended the steps, pausing when she reached the door, hearing four or five voices inside. Jesus, the whole gang was here. She steeled herself, knocking sharply and stepping away. The door opened abruptly, Beth appearing, at first confused, and then elated. She launched herself at Y/N, the two clinging to each other. Beth stepped back, scanning her friend over, and glancing towards the door. “You look more put together.”

“I don’t feel it.” Y/N admitted, hating the analytical look everyone seemed to give her these days.

“Why are you back here?” Beth murmured, her words kinder than they sounded, “I thought you were in Paris.”

“Well, I was. Then I ended up spending two weeks drinking myself half to death without leaving the room, and thought maybe it was time for a change of scene.”

“You can’t keep running from yourself, it’ll get you nowhere.”

“I know that.”

“Beth!” the two girls turned, “Are you alright out there? Who is it?”

Benny’s voice, so recognisable, turned into the actual person. He was standing, jeans, a black top and layered necklaces, shock registering on his face. Y/N, who hadn’t proper registered that she was seeing him until that moment, looked like she wanted a black hole to appear beneath her. Pink tinged her cheeks, embarrassment unfamiliar to her, and she stood up straighter, faking confidence.

“Y/N?”

“Hi Benny.” She glanced back at Beth, who looked away.

“Wait, is that Y/N?”

Arthur and Hilton appeared, and then Cleo, grinning with a drink in hand.

“You’ve been in Paris, eh?” she said, “Of course, you always seem to be there when I am not.”

“I wish you had been.” Y/N grinned, hugging Cleo tightly.

Benny, having come to his senses after the initial shock, stepped forwards, “A drink?”

Y/N looked at him pointedly, “You never have alcohol in this place.”

“But these three always bring some.” he nodded to the three stood next to her with drinks in hand.

“You not drinking at home really sucks ass.” Y/N groaned, concocting herself a makeshift cocktail with the ingredients she had to hand.

“You know, most people don’t usually have those in pint glasses.” Arthur raised an eyebrow, and Y/N shrugged.

“I’m not most people.” she took a lengthy sip, ignoring the worried glances that her friends shared.

“So,” she looked up from her drink with a bright expression, “what’s going on in the chess world?”

“Well, we’re training Beth.” Benny explained.

“What for? She’s better than all of you.” Y/N frowned, and Beth smirked.

“Paris.” Hilton clarified, the prideful chess players ignoring your comment.

“Let’s do a simultaneous!” Benny offered.

“Cleo, Y/N, are you joining?”

“You know we can’t play.” Cleo reprimanded, the pair of you sitting down near the game and watching with interest.

“All of our friends are nerds.” Y/N sighed, “Look at them!”

By the time Beth had beaten the other three chess players eight times, Benny gave up. He had decided that Beth could ‘do it’, but was also getting distracted by the fact that Cleo and Y/N had found his records and were blasting The Doors as loud as they could and dancing around his living room. When the game was finished, the apartment was filled with the sound of Soul Kitchen, and any ability to concentrate on the game was impossible. Y/N was standing on his coffee table, eyes closed, bottle in hand, hips swaying. Cleo had her arms in the air, swaying with the rhythm, and the two girls seemed so lost in the music that the four surveyors were almost scared to interrupt. Y/N, murmuring the familiar lyrics, took a swig of the bottle and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lighting one and taking a drag, only then noticing that her friends had stopped playing. “Join us!” She laughed, reaching over, grabbing Beth’s arm, pulling her up onto the table, and trying to get her to dance. At first, the woman only swayed, but found herself dancing more excessively. Cleo took the task of dragging the boys in, and soon the party of six were all laughing and dancing. The song began to draw to a close, when Alyssa turned to Benny, “Got any of The Beatles?”

He pointed to the stack of records, preoccupied with trying to stop Cleo from spilling her drink. Y/N found the Abbey Road album and the dancing picked up as the apartment began to fill with cigarette smoke and Y/N retrieved some whiskey. She drank straight from the bottle, and continued to dance, pushing off the gently guiding hands that Benny was attempting to provide. At some point, Cleo, Arthur and Hilton took their leave, and Beth turned the music down, leaving Y/N with her bottle and cigs as she joined Benny in surveying the drunken girl.

“I haven’t seen her like this in a long time.” Benny observed, and Beth sighed.

“She tries to hide it from you, she knows how you feel about it.” Beth explained.

“I didn’t realise it was this bad.”

Beth looked back at her friend, “She’s worse than I was.”

Benny scoffed a little, “I don’t know how to help her.”

“Wait,” Beth raised an eyebrow mockingly, “You, Benny Watts, wanting to help someone? That’s never happened before.”

“I’m helping you, aren’t I?”

“That’s different.”

Benny sighed, “Where are you going to sleep now that she’s here?”

“I can find a hotel?” she offered.

“Not this late. I’ll sleep on the blow up, you two sleep in my bed.”

“Okay.”

Beth walked up to Y/N, gently prying the bottle from her hand, Y/N turned to her, taking her in with wide eyes - she was always childlike when she was drunk. She watched curiously as Benny began to pump up the blow up bed, and Beth turned the music off. She let Beth sit her down on Benny’s bed, pulling her own clothes off and replacing them with one of Benny’s shirts while Beth helped Benny get all the leftover bottles in the bin. By the time Beth was back in the room, Alyssa was passed out on the far side of the bed, curled up into a tight fetal position. Beth lay down next to her friend, the familiar scent of alcohol conflicting her in both comfort and disgust.

#the queens gambit #the queen's gambit #beth harmon #elizabeth harmon #benny watts #benny watts x reader #benny watts x you #benny watts x y/n

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soap-lady · 3 years

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Umm...I still don’t know

If you liked the first one, you might like this one. For @arylace

Phantom Boyfriend Pt. 2

To say Marinette Dupain-Cheng was having a crappy week was a gross understatement.

She was, in fact, having a crappy life.

Even if she didn’t count the four years of bullying from Chloe there was still looming pressure to put together a portfolio for ESMOD, schoolwork, preparing for the BAC, and keeping the gullible idiots who used to be her friends (except Nathaniel, Alix, Rose and Juleka) from being swindled by Lila Rossi.

Then Felix Graham de Vanily died, age 17, from crashing a car he was driving without a license. There were rumors his autopsy had found drugs in his system but no one knew for sure. Marinette wasn’t sure how she felt. They’d never been close but she never wanted him dead.

She had been one of the few people who had tried to console his mother, Amelie. Adrien had of course; that was just the way he was. Amelie couldn’t look at him without sobbing for his cousin so Marinette had taken over. She held the woman’s hand and passed her tissues throughout the ceremony.

Most of the people in attendance were famous or semi-famous actors but there were a few less glamorous people as well. Judging how they kept themselves between Amelie and the “beautiful people” Marinette guessed they must have been crew from the production company Felix and his father worked at. They seemed genuinely sad Felix was gone and she caught snippets of old stories about the pranks Felix would play on-set when he was younger.

Marinette remembered them too. Felix used to spend summers with his cousin Adrien and the three of them used to play together at the park near her house. Chloe was always invited to join them but always said she didn’t want to get dirty. That was okay, the three of them usually had more fun without her. Chloe did make a really good princess though. Marinette always wanted to be Mulan anyway.

Felix back then was mischievous but rarely in an unkind way. He laughed just as hard when Marinette or Adrien (usually Marinette) outsmarted him as he did when he pranked them. He was fun and his magic tricks her amazing. He was acrobatic and entertaining; he always brightened when Marinette complimented him or told him what she liked best about his tricks or somersaults. She’d begged her mother to teach her wing chun so she could spar with Felix. Adrien was the knight, Felix the martial artist, and Marinette the strategist who always came up with a new game.

Things began to change when they began college. Felix had changed that summer. He was meaner, even cruel. He taunted Marinette for making her own clothes and tried to push her around, surprised when she pushed back. His pranks weren’t funny and he didn’t laugh with them any more. If he played it was basketball or chess with Adrien. Felix barely talked to her and if he did it was to insult her. Adrien was convinced some girl had broken his heart. Marinette wondered if he had one any more.

After that summer Marinette didn’t bother to seek out Felix. He seemed delighted to seek her out, even though she did the best to avoid him. For some reason he thought it was funny to pretend to flirt with her and tell her friends and even strangers they were dating. She denied it every single time but that didn’t stop him from sending her flowers on her birthday or buying out her family’s bakery so she had to talk to him or go with him to a cafe for a “lunch date”. She deliberately ordered the most expensive things she could, especially if she knew he didn’t like something. The look on his face as she teasingly fed him bites was worth having to endure his company.

After his dad died, even that stopped. He was cold and cruel and sneered whenever he saw her. She ignored him except to be polite and didn’t react when he loudly asked Adrien why he was still friends with a “peasant”. He’d said it once when Mme. Chamack was picking up Manon and the little girl had fired back “you’re just jealous because no one likes you.” It was one of the few times Marinette had ever seen Felix at a loss for words.

Now he was dead and she felt a little guilty that she hadn’t tried hard to get to know the real Felix. The one she’d thought she’d know as a child, the person Adrien swore still existed in private. Marinette could sympathize with a lost parent or lost love. It didn’t give him the right to be an ass.

She thought she would never see Amelie Graham de Vanily again after her son’s funeral but she was wrong. Amelie would come by for tea with Sabine Dupain-Cheng and buy out the bakery so Tom could take a break and join them. If Marinette came home from school before she left Amelie would kiss Marinette’s cheek as if they were old friends and whisper things like “Felix was always very fond of you, dear. I’m sorry he was so mean sometimes.” Then she’d press a fifty euro bill into Marinette’s hands and leave before she could give it back. She would always put it into her sewing or university fund and her parents found out Amelie would donate the pastries she’d bought to homeless shelters.

The other surprise was Adrien.

Marinette knew he’d take his cousin’s death hard. Yes, Felix looked enough like him to be his twin but Adrien genuinely cared about him. They were there for each other when they’d lost a parent. They took an interest in each other's hobbies and encouraged each other. Even after Felix changed and pushed most people away he’d still let Adrien in from time to time.

Marinette and Adrien had always been close. He’d been her first crush at age thirteen and even though he saw her as his “good friend” and was now dating Kagami they were still close. It hurt that he never noticed her and she couldn’t confess but at least he’d seen through Lila Rossi for the lying sack of shit she was. She might still model for Gabriel Agreste but she was his spy and Adrien knew it. Marinette was convinced M. Agreste knew Lila for what she was and only kept her around as long as she was useful. Besides, why would he let his son date Lila when he could have a daughter-in-law who would head her own corporation one day?

That didn’t explain Adrien’s recent behavior. He’d been depressed and miserable but whenever he had a class with Marinette he’d cling to her as if she were some sort of emotional support animal. He’d sit beside her, eat lunch with her, and only socialize with her. Even Nino was ignored unless he asked a direct question. If Adrien couldn’t be with Kagami, he’d be with Marinette at school.

Marinette had heard whispers from people about her. She wasn’t sure what it was about until she walked into her History class and overheard Lila loudly telling Alya that M. Agreste was concerned that Adrien’s depression was hurting sales and Marinette was encouraging his behavior to try and leech off the Agreste Family.

“Poor sweet Adrien doesn’t realize he’s being used!” Lila smirked openly at Marinette, secure in the knowledge Alya wouldn’t notice or care. “Can you imagine someone emotionally manipulating someone like that?”

“I thought Marinette was over him,” Alya shook her head and turned to Lila. “Are you sure M. Agreste will give me an exclusive about his nephew’s death?”

“He’s devastated but I think he’ll listen to me. And you’re a trusted blogger-”

Marinette opened her mouth to shut them down but was surprised when Adrien’s voice came out.

“Marinette’s using me?” Adrien walked out from behind Marinette. He glared at Lila and Alya, who quickly closed their mouths and stared at him. This was the most he’d spoken in a week. “Wow. I thought you wanted to be a reporter, Alya. You still haven’t learned to check your sources.”

Marinette put her hand on Adrien’s shoulder but he gently brushed it off. He leaned down and got in Alya’s face. She leaned away as his voice became as cold as his father’s. “Here’s a primary source for you, Mlle. Cesaire. I’m the one seeking out Marinette to talk about my grief. She listens to me because she’s my friend and never asks for a damn thing in return. In fact, she’s recommended I speak to a therapist, who can help me more than she can, according to her.”

Marinette felt warmed by his praise but he wasn’t done. “Anything Lila says my father has said is hearsay and you should know that. There will be no exclusive because my father has already given a statement to the press and he never grants interviews to anyone but Mme. Chamack. And Alya, if you even think about exploiting Felix’s death for views,” his face hardened. “We’ll no longer be friends.” He glared at Lila and gave her a look of contempt. “You and I never were, never will be, and you weren’t at Felix’s funeral because neither he nor his mother could stand you. Come on, Marinette.”

He slung an arm over her and guided her to their seats. She glanced back over her shoulder at a still gaping Alya and shrugged. Lila glared and was ignored.

*****

Her day went from strange to horrible when she arrived home and saw the bakery was closed. Sabine and Tom were sitting in the living room upstairs. Tom had his head in his hands. Sabine was trying to console her husband but looked nearly as miserable.

Marinette felt the blood drain from her face as she heard faint sniffles. Papa didn’t cry, not unless…

“Mom?” she whispered.

Sabine looked up at her daughter but didn’t really seem to see her. “Oh, sweetie…”

Mom looked scared which made Marinette afraid as well. She used her mother’s mood as a barometer. Even if a cake was late or a client was demanding or...horror of horrors, the baguettes burned, Sabine Dupain-Cheng never got worried or afraid. Now she was both and Marinette feared the worst.

She sat down beside her mother. “Maman?” Her voice was high and small, like it had been when she was a child.

Sabine took her child’s hands. “Sweetie...our ovens shorted out this morning. Both of them.”

The Dupain-Cheng Boulangerie-Patisserie had two huge commercial ovens for baking, both taller than Marinette and could bake dozens of breads, cookies, and pastries at once. Maman and Papa had bought them before she was born with Nonna Gina’s help. They’d always been a part of Marinette’s life. “Jean and Jeanne are dead? Can they be fixed?”

“No, they can’t,” Tom groaned, speaking for the first time. “I’ve had them repaired when I could but that was just patchwork here and there. I knew they were getting old but I kept putting off replacing them. I thought maybe next year but now it’s too late!” He buried his head in his arms.

Marinette felt cold all over as she thought about what they would do. With no working ovens they’d have to close the shop. They owned the building but they still needed food and utilities. With no income they’d have to live off whatever Tom and Sabine had managed to save but then what?

“How-” Marinette’s voice shook. “How much? For just one?”

“A good new commercial oven that will last a long time is eleven thousand euros.” Sabine’s voice was sad and dead. “Then there’s the new venting, which can cost up to one thousand euros for every thirty-three centimeters. And you need at least three and one-third meters to be compliant with safety laws. Plus the cost of installation...”

Marinette felt tears begin to sting her eyes. She did some rapid calculations. “So...at least twenty-one thousand euros for one oven…” She looked at her mother in horror. “Do we have that kind of money?”

“No.” Tom didn’t even raise his head. “We could buy the oven or the venting. Not both.”

Marinette slumped then thought of something. “There’s the money you’ve saved for me to go to university.”

“NO!”

Both of her parents spoke at once. Papa looked shocked his little girl would even suggest such a thing. Maman looked angry.

Tom calmed himself and then said in his usual gentle voice. “We’re not so desperate that we have to take that money, sweetie. We can get a bank loan. The shop and our house are paid for. We’ll get a mortgage and pay off the price of the new ovens within a year, no problem.”

“Nadja suggested we start a GoFundMe and even said she’d ask her producer if she could mention it on the air,” Sabine told her daughter. “I hate to ask for money, but I’m sure our community will help where they can.”

“Plus we spoke to Marlena Cesaire and she says there’s an old kitchen from when the Grand Palais used to offer gourmet cooking lessons for guests. She’s sure Mayor Bourgeois will be glad to let us use it in exchange for a volume discount,” Tom added, “She says she’s always wanted to offer our desserts at her restaurant. It would be a great way to make money while the ovens are replaced.”

“That sounds great!” Marinette smiled and tried to look cheerful and hopeful, even as her stomach continued to sink. She hugged her Maman and Papa tightly. “It sounds like you two have everything sorted out. We’ll be back in business in no time!”

Tom and Sabine smiled at each other over their daughter’s heads. They’d protect their daughter anyway they could.

*****

After a dinner no one really tasted Marinette robotically took a shower, brushed her teeth, and dressed for bed. After two hours of tossing and turning she finally managed to sleep.

***** Marinette’s room was exactly as he remembered it, pink and sweet without being vomit-inducing. There was no familiar smell of pastries or the lavender and roses on her balcony. Felix never realized how much he’d miss things like smell when he died. Oh well.

He thought he’d float as a ghost but no, he walked, although now he could phase through objects so that was amusing.

He climbed up the ladder to Marinette’s loft and peered down at her. She really was lovely, not that he’d ever told her while he was alive. He’d just always assumed she knew. Her face wasn’t relaxed; she was frowning in her sleep and murmured to herself. Huh. What kind of problems could she possibly have? Everyone who mattered loved her. She had been commissioned by celebrities and Jagged Stone himself called her his niece. She was smart and talented, with a bright future ahead of her. Huh. A future. What was that like?

Felix realized he was wasting time feeling sorry for himself. He only had a month to solve his murder and even though he’d soon cease to exist he wanted someone to suffer first. Well, his murder wouldn’t solve itself.

He reached out and touched her hand, willing her to sense him. He wondered if he could wake her and…

Marinette.

Marinette, I need you.

Wake up, Marinette!

Marinette’s eyes popped open and she sat up, looking frantically. There was nothing and no one. Sighing, she lay back down. Clearly today’s anxiety was getting to her. Suddenly a familiar sleek blond face leaned into hers.

Peridot green eyes looked into hers. Firm masculine lips quirked upwards. He wore the familiar grey vest with a matching shirt, pants and tie he frequently wore in life. Did he have any other clothes?

“Gah!” She leaped backwards until she nearly collided with her headboard. “Felix?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

She blinked several times but he was still there. “You’re dead.”

He sighed. “I am.”

She glanced down at herself. “I’m in my nightgown!” “Why, yes. Yes you are, my dear.” He ran his eyes up and down her twice before leering a bit. “I didn’t know you owned anything like this.”

Marinette looked down at herself and blushed. “I made a wedding gown for a friend of Nadja Chamack and there was a little left over. I thought there were enough scraps for a cute nightgown and I was going to make myself one.” She’d gone as far as designing the nightgown and cutting the pattern but she didn’t remember actually making anything.

Felix raised his eyebrows in approval. “Scraps are right.”

The nightgown fell to her knees and the bodice wasn’t low cut enough to show any cleavage. Marinette still flushed and covered herself from head to toe.

He pouted in disappointment. “Yes I’m dead, your nightgown is adorable and I don’t have much time.” He dropped the act. “Marinette, my death was no accident. I was murdered and I only have a month to find my killer before I disintegrate.”

Her eyes narrowed. “If this is some prank from beyond the grave you can kiss my ass and go haunt someone else. Lila, maybe. She deserves it.” She was about to lay back down when she thought of something. “Wait, why are you telling me? Shouldn’t you tell the authorities or your mother?”

He shrugged, not an easy feat without a body. “Do you think the police would listen to a ghost? Or that my mom is in any condition to see me like this?” He pointed to himself. “Don’t suggest Adrien either. He’s probably useless right now anyway.”

Marinette frowned. “If you tell me I’m your only hope…”

Felix rolled his eyes. “I’m not up on my pop culture references because I have a real life.” His face turned thoughtful. “Had a real life. But...yes. You’re the only person I know who can not only handle talking to a ghost but could solve my murder.”

Her face became shrewd and calculating. She brought her hand up and hesitated before plunging it right through him. He expected it to hurt but felt nothing. Then while she had her hand through him he saw snippets of her thoughts and memories.

This has to be a dream.

Why is he here? Is he really dead? Was his funeral a prank? Was his mom in on it?

That’s a mean thing to do to Adrien. Who else would care if you lived or died.

Why were you driving that night? You’re underaged.

Who hates you enough to want you dead? I mean I can understand not liking you but murder?

This is the plot of ‘Hamlet’.

What’s really going on?

The thoughts faded and all he saw were memories. The first day they met and she got mad and hit him for stealing her doll. He cried and told her she had to be his girlfriend for the rest of the day. She gave him cookies instead. Laughing together over a shared prank. Pushing her away when his heart was broken. Pushing her away again when his father died. Marinette at his funeral, one of only a few real mourners…

She pulled away and the connection ended. She stared at him and he wondered how much she’d seen. He summoned up some of his old arrogance to protect himself from the feeling of vulnerability. It wasn’t every day he joined minds with an old...playmate.

“Of course, I don’t expect you to do this for nothing,” he told her, sounding more like his old, mean self. “You’re noble and selfless but you still need money to survive. How much?”

Marinette blinked. “What?”

He sighed. She couldn’t be this naive. “No one does anything for nothing. Besides, I hate the thought of owing you, even in death.”

She raised a brow. “You’re offering to pay me to catch your killer?”

He shook his head. He might be a little lonely. Okay, he was very lonely but he didn’t want Marinette to die any time soon. Besides, he’d be gone soon anyway. She’d either go to some sort of fluffy cloud Heaven or be reincarnated but not yet. He wanted her to become a successful designer and live a full life, even if he couldn’t. As long as she didn’t marry his idiot cousin.

“Yes.”

She tilted her head. “How can a ghost access a bank account?”

He shrugged. “How can a living person read a ghost’s mind. I can influence the living. I can talk to my mom and she can wire you any amount you want. Name your price.”

Marinette debated with herself but decided she had nothing to lose, even if he couldn’t help her. “Fifty thousand euros.”

Felix couldn’t decide if he was surprised or impressed. “That much? You’re greedier than I expected, my dear.”

He meant it as a joke but her face turned red with shame. “It’s for my parents.” She looked him straight in the eye, sad but defiant. “Both of our ovens died today and they can’t run their business without it. Good ovens are expensive and they’ll need new venting to be up to code.” She looked like she was about to cry and he thought he might have to comfort her but she rallied. “Fifty thousand will keep them from going into debt to save our business.”

Felix thought about when a few years his mother had to deposit one hundred thousand euros of interest from his trust fund into a separate account because their financial advisors told her they had too much wealth accumulated in one spot. Felix had laughed and suggested he use the money to buy marriage to Marinette. “Bride prices are very expensive in China. The most expensive bride went for thirty-eight thousand. Marinette’s only half Chinese but she could easily go for one hundred thousand. It had been a joke and they’d had a good laugh but Amelie had put Marinette’s name on the account in case he died or wanted to award her a scholarship to ESMOD, whatever came first. He wasn’t expecting the former.

She would have received the money anyway in a month anyway but he didn’t feel the need to tell her that. He felt a bit of respect for her. She was negotiating to help her family, not herself.

“Fine.”

“And I want twenty percent up front as a sign of good faith,” she added. “Non-refundable.” If nothing else, she could help pay for one of the ovens.

He smiled. Damn, she had some ovaries on her. It made him wish he’d been nicer to her. They would have killed each other, or been the best of friends. Or perhaps he really would have married her.

Marinette sat up a little straighter in bed and offered him her hand. “Do we have a deal, Ghost Boy?”

“Yes.” Instead of taking her hand he brought out the bracelet the two deities had given him and slid it over her hand onto her wrist. She flinched but didn’t pull away. “We have a deal, Your Grace.”

Felix held her hand in his and brought it up to his lips. He kissed her knuckles and then disappeared.

*****

In the morning Marinette woke up a whole ten minutes before her alarm. She was relieved that Felix wasn’t haunting her but disappointed that she couldn’t magically solve all her parents’ problems. Maybe she had some sort of guilt on her conscience where Felix was concerned and that was why she had dreamed about him.

Huh. Why was her wrist heavier than normal?

She looked at her wrist and froze. The bracelet she was wearing was made of beautiful precious stones and interspersed with amulets in between the beads. In the middle of the bracelet was a heart-shaped pendant. The engravings on one side read “GDV loves MDC.” On the other was an inscription:

I’m counting on you, Marinette.

And that’s it. I’m going to bed

#marinette dupain cheng #felix graham de vanily #ghost felinette au #get out of my head #stupid ghost boy

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bambiekat143 · 3 years

Text

what are we doing

Chapter 1 The fire and smoke

The sky was dark, but the stars were so bright it looked almost blues, the smoke is coming up from behind the tree seeing a car on its side a small fire was starting to emerging from the back of the car black smoke with it, the front window been smashed blood on the side of it, in the front passage seats a girl just looking Dazz hearing the tires of a car speeding off,

her head was spinning around trying to focus, looking around she notices the blood on the corner of the half-broken widow, she brings her legs up to her chess smashed what remained of the front window before undoing her seatbelt falling down hard on the side widow groning,

she slides out the widowed headfirst crawling over the shattered pieces of glass

"ahhhh" she screams making her way across before laying on her back she notices a pain in her leg,

lifting herself up on her elbows she notices how much blood was coming out seeing a bit of bone skiting out, crying out she lays back down her hands covering her face breathing heavily

when she hears a faint voice before hearing it fully

"AURORA" she turns her head to the sound,

"AURORA...please be ok" she hears him wiper

"SAMAEL" she yells back rounding on her stomick to crawl over toward him through the smashed glass around them,

making it over to him hovering over his face he retches his left hand up to move her long hair out of the way,

it looked like it was on fire with the bright flames in the background,

his breathing was shallow as he talked to her

"are...you...ok" breathing heavily she looked down his body and saw big pieces of glass sticking out of his stomick looking back to his face little bits of glass sticking out

"I'm more worry about you" she tears up seeing how much pain he was in, seeing him bleeding out she looked around for help, but nothing

"oh no what do I do...what do I do" her tears falling on his face mixing with the blood, looking up at her sad face made him tear up too,

"I love you" he smiled up at her, she chuckled smiling back at him

"I love you too" she bent down and kiss him not knowing what else to do she felt helplessly there was nothing she could do,

she started to feel heavily she was going to pass out at any minute,

suddenly they feel this heat on them,

it felt hot more than the fire around them,

then a light,

a big ball of light they both turn toward it seeing a man surrounded by fire moving toward them,

the fire moved alongside him unit he kneeling down beside us looking directly at her,

His face was beaten up,

one of his eyes was bloodshot the other Bruis badly,

half of his bottom lip was missen the blood still looked fresh

"Please...please help us" she begs, crying loudly,

the stranger moves his hand up towards the wound on her head moving her hair out of the way looking down at Sam

"I will my child...but you have to do something for me" Samuel looked up at him

"What do you need us to do" the stranger pulled out a piece of paper

"I have some things that...need taking care of, so I'll help you and you help me and we call it even" Samuel looks up at Aurora

"I'll do it, just leave her out of this" the stranger shakes his head

"I'm afraid it an all for one and one for all situations" Samuel shakes his head

"no," Sam said voice cracking, Aurora grabs his hand

the stranger looks at them and smiles "it not like you have anything else to loss"

Sam squeezes her hand she looked down at him wipering

"what do we have to lose" she smiles at him he chuckled and looked at the stranger "ok, we do it just...please save us" the stranger pulls out two stones neckless then put them around their necks moving his hand down Sam body grabbing the pieces of glass in him pulling it out quickly

"AHHHH HO ho" breathing heavily,

the stranger chuckle removing Sam's belt moving over toward Aurora

"This is going to be quick but it going to be very painful, bite this" he fouls the belt putting it in her mouth "ready" Sam grabs her hand nodding

"AHHHHHH" she lay back down breathing heavily

"you might want to go home...help get those pieces of glass out of each other" he got up moving away

"and before the cops arrive" he stops in his track moving his head towards them "oh and meet me at a cafe near here...be there early" as he turns his head he disappeared into darkness nowhere in sight,

Aurora moved up Notices there was no pain anymore she looked down still seeing the blood coming out of Sam and her wound unit it just stop, she helps him up off the ground his arm around her waist they started moving away from the rec heading over to Aurora house closer then his.

As they made it to the door Aurora pulls the keys out of her jacket pocket heading inside as quietly as they could to not disturb her mum,

making their way to the bathroom she sit Sam down on the bathtub going out to grab some towels, tweeter, and paper towels, placing them down she takes off her jacket getting really to pluck out the glass that was in his face she places them on the paper towel

"ouch," Sam said pulling away from her

"sorry" she looked sadly at him, he grabbed her hand kissing her knuckles lending it agents his lips looking up at her

"just a couple more then I'm done" she smiled down at him, he let go of her hand letting her continue.

once she was done she got a handwash to get the blood off his face he grabs her hands moving them away from his face standing up grabbing her head gently pulling it down looking on top

"how's your head" she gasps tweeting her eye

"sore" he looks in her eyes and had a feeling she didn't want to be alone and he didn't want to either

"let's get cleaned up ok" he smiles at her she nodded her head in response so he turns his head around moving toward the shower door opening it turning on the hot water waiting for it to heat up, he turns Aurora around to unzipping her dress moving the straps off her shoulder kneeling down to takes her boots off making sure she was stable before taking off his clothes, he moves them into the water letting the water hit, watching the blood fall down the drain,

he grabs her hair gently washing the blood out she turns around and does the same for him gently running her hands through the back of his hair pulling him in so that her head can touch his, he wraps his arms around her and stays there for a bit, as he runs his hand down her back he can feel the scratches on her, not fully healed but it not getting any worse it stop bleeding but you could still feel it.

They didn't move for a while just looked at each other observing their scratches touching their faces, Sam lend over to turn the water off moving out of the shower picking up a towel wrapping it around Aurora grabbing one for himself,

they moved towards Aurora room, she went to her cupboard pulling out underwear and a big top to put over herself Sam had some of his clothing around here but he couldn't be bothered to find any, so he settles for boxes he moved to lay on the bed really for Aurora to cuddle with him, she lay her head on his chess her hand around his waist .

They couldn't speak to each other what were they going to say

hey, we almost die and now were indebted to a stranger until he decides we pay our debt,

what were they going to do.

Sam was the first one to wake up looking over at Aurora she looked like she'd be crying there wore dark circle around her eyes hair messed tangle around her neck he lifts his hand to move the hair out of the way, she opens her eyes looking at him she smiles at him, moving her hand over his cheek,

"We should probably get up" Aurora nodded her head getting out of bed turning herself to Sam

"Should we eat now or wait" he was looking for his pant

"no, we eat at the cafe" shoving his pants on with his top

"I have to go get the car so I will be back in a bit ok" he walks toward her and kisses her,

she smiles and laughs feeling a little tickled as he went out the window she grabs his jacket handing it to him through the window leaning out the window slightly

"see you soon," she said happily he smiled at her lend in and kiss her

"see you soon" he walk away looking back at me to wave she wave back she walks away from the window to grab her towel leaving her room but when she got to the bathroom she notices that she had left the mess from last night here,

she quickly shut the door grabbing the paper towel wrapping it before throwing it in the bin,

she grabs the nears towels and began wiping up the blood on the floor and some that were on the wall scrubbing the shower clean,

she quickly walks out of the bathroom moving to the laundry room putting a load on with the bloody clothes and towels taking a breath thankful her mum was asleep and that her sister had the night shift at work,

she walks back to the bathroom to have her shower washing her hair actually shampoo and condition it still finding traces of blood falling down the drain,

as she steps out she went to the cupboard draws pulling out the hairdryer the loud sound turned into a white nose she was getting flash back to the night before the crash.

the music blasting in her ears, the light keep changes to pink, purple and blue all she wants is a drink her head was killing her, she makes it over to a table griping it tight feeling like she could fall over when she heard a disembody voice

"hey"

she snaps out of it clinging to the bathroom bench breathing heavily looking in the mirror seeing grey mark she turn around not really to look.

walking to her room she drops her towel moving to her cupboard put her underwear on and bar moves to grabs a nice summer dress zipping it up turning it around to the front tieing the scrapes around her neck moving to get her boots putting them on moving over to pick up her towel to hang it behind the door moving to her desk to grab a blue headband that matches her dress she grabs her rock around her neck squeezing it tight in her hand making it hurt a little,

walking out to the front door letting their cat in,

he rubs up agents her legs moving for his food bowl meow loudly almost tripping over him as she walks over to the cupboard to get his biscuit for him

"here you go Salem" poring his food "eat slow..I worry about you" but he didn't listen he just makes this really disturbing grunting noise moving away she hears a knock at the door,

heads over toward the door opening it to see Sam he "you ready" she nodded her head

"Just let me get my bag" she ran to her room to grab her phone and little bag running back to Sam "ready"

they step out of the door frame closing it he grabs her hand moving them toward the car opening the cars doors hoping in,

on their way to the cafe, she looks over at him brushing her hand to his face

"how your face" he grabs her hand laying it on his lap

"it's a bit sore but it'll heal what about your head" looking at her for a moment before turning back to the road

"just going to have a headache for a few days" she smiles at him.

They made it there in less than 10 mins they didn't move for a bit they both wouldn't admit two each other that they were scared how could they not be with what everything that happens that fateful night,

they looked at each other before getting out they meet halfway before heading in,

they hold hands entering the cafe looking around for the stranger and there he was sitting in one of the corner booths he's wearing a suit a black one,

Sam took the lead moving around until they made it in front of him the stranger looked up at them Aurora sat down first then Sam

As they sit a waitress comes over to take their order she smiles

"hi I'm betty what can I get for you today" she pulls out a pen and notebook from her front pocket Sam looks at her and smile

"Hi can we get a black coffee, hot chocolate, and a plate of pancakes please"

she nods walking off to the kitchen, Sam looks back at the stranger a little scared trying not to let it show

"so what do you want us to do" the stranger smirks at him reaching beside him and pull a piece of paper out unfolding it placing it down on the table sliding it out to them

"There are seven names on this list, I want you to find them, kidnap them, and put them through a trial" their eyes widen to want the stranger is requesting them to do, he then pulls something else out and places it in front of us

"start with him first, we know where this one is going to be" points to a picture

"you want us to kidnap someone, that not going to happen" he goes to more with the stranger grabbed his arm

"you owe me...know we made a deal, save your lives you do want I ask, know you agree and I haven't gone back on my word but if you do you die" Sam moved his arm away from his grip sitting down

"but want your asking...how can we do that"

the stranger struggles "I don't know but I think you can figure it out I have fate in you" he laughs

Sam couldn't figure out another way out of this,

if this stranger gave them a chance of life he could take it away just as easily he looked at Aurora he couldn't be without her he turns back to the stranger

"fine we'll do it" he looks at the paper reading the name off the front

"Alien Cupidity why are we kidnaping him it says he stop a turf war that was gonna kill hundreds if it continued at the rate it was going, people are calling him a hero"

the stranger laugh "if you hit someone with a car on purpose and then call an ambulance are you a hero, no he started the turf war killing innocent people and not so innocent people" he points to the address in the paper and smiles

"he'll be receiving a medal of honor in the next three days...we have until then" Aurora looked at it confusedly

"Why would he kill so many, just to get a metal" Sam looked at the picture

"Because it gets his name out there, he already somehow manipulate the two most powerful gangs in town, he wants power" the stranger seems surprises by Sam answer

"exactly" Sam just looked at him smugly

"witch means he's going to be surrounded by the present, cops not to forget bodyguards" Sam slide the newspaper back at him

"we'll be shot before we even get close to him" the stranger rolls his eyes getting up

"figure it out" he put his hand in his pocket pulling out his wallet taking two twenty dollars out placing it on the table leaving almost bumping into Betty as she came out holding the drinks placing them on the table moving back over to the counter.

Sam grabs the paper looking for any clues about his where abouts when Betty comes over with the food placing it down Aurora start eating cutting up pieces for Sam putting it in his mouth why'll he looks,

then she had a thought she put down the fork pulling out her phone

"How do you spell his name" she looks at Sam why'll still chewing

"Alien A-l-i-e-n Cupidity C-u-p-i-d-i-t-y" not really paying attention

"here you go" she gives her phone to him grabbing it he looks through the websites as Aurora continued to eat her pancake giving Sam some

"here" he moves the phone to her, "it says he woke at a restaurant maybe someone will tell us something about him, something we could use agents him"

by Angelkat

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nekomassetters · 3 years

Text

Eighteen

God, Kuroo's such a cockblock.

The next day during your practice in the boys' gym, you practice with Lev and Yaku since Kuroo has stolen Kenma for most of the day.

I just want to be around him because he's a good setter and I'm here to practice my setting with him.

You try to reassure yourself that the only reason you remotely care about being near Kenma is because of his ability to help you improve your volleyball skills. Although you did find him attractive and enjoyed your arrangement with him outside of practice, you found yourself wondering if there was something more to it than that.

"Y/N did you hear me?" Yaku asks, taking you out of your thoughts.

"Hm?"

"I'm gonna grab water so take a break for a sec alright?"

You nod and as he walks away, Lev takes the moment to chat with you.

"Oh Y/N remember the other day you were going to ask me something? Is everything alright?"

You vaguely remember trying to talk to Lev about Yaku before being interrupted.

"It's nothing big," you shrug, "I just noticed a couple of times that when Yaku would-"

Your sentence gets cut off again while trying to confront Lev about his feelings, this time by Kenma.

"Y/N I'm ready to practice with you when you are," Kenma's indifferent voice calls to you.

You look over at Lev who gives you a worried look before smiling.

"It's alright I'll just talk to you later. I'm just glad everything's okay."

You nod and walk off with Kenma.

📷

"Y/N?" you hear Kenma's familiar voice call to you as you start to clean up the gym.

"Before you go can I go over a quick play with you?"

As you're about to answer, Kuroo shows up next to his friend.

"Goin on a date, lovebirds?" he teases as he pats Kenma's hair.

"No!" you and Kenma both yell to Kuroo, your rebuttal a bit louder than the other.

"I just asked Y/N to go over something with me really quick," Kenma restates to his roommate.

As most of the team starts leaving, you and Kenma clean up what you aren't going to need, such as the volleyball cart.

"Kenma why am I putting away the one thing I'm sure that we need?"

Kenma rolls his eyes and instructs you to just listen to what he's previously told you to do. After a bit of cursing under your breath for Kenma being 'an annoying little shit," you obey what he's told you.

Once you make your way to the storage room, you put the cart away and turn to walk back. Unfortunately, as you turn around, Kenma pushes you back into the room, attacking your lips with his own.

"What the hell are you doing?!" you quip, thinking his teammates are still around.

"Everyone's gone," he mutters as he closes the door behind him.

"So this is what you meant by 'staying after,' am I right?" you ask suspiciously while crossing your arms.

"I thought you were supposed to be smart," he barks back quickly.

Taking this as a moment to strike, you step closer to Kenma. Unfolding your arms, you press your dominant hand against his length over his shorts.

"Wow Kenma, that kiss really got you going," you tease.

Kenma's face turns into a frown as you continue to palm him over his clothes.

"Oh please," he finally retorts, "you're not going to stand there and act all superior when you're the one submitting to me."

At his words, you hesitate momentarily in your work on him. Even though it was brief, Kenma caught on and decided he wasn't going to let that be the end.

Grabbing onto your neck forcefully, Kenma pulls you closer to him. You feel your hand drop back down to your side as you gasp from the quick jolt.

"That's what I thought," he breathes into your ear.

You feel Kenma's light nibbles against your earlobe before slowly moving down to your neck where he kept his hand still firmly on you. As he passes down to your collarbone, he tilts your head to the side firmly, forcing you to submit to his actions. You feel your breath hitch at the sudden movement once more as he laid kisses underneath his hand's grip.

"Mmm, Kenma," you whimper out.

"What," he grunts as he tightens his grip on you.

"Let me, mmm, suck you."

Brief hesitation takes over Kenma this time as you return your hand back to his shorts. He becomes a bit stunned over the fact that you still wanted to give him pleasure when he was ready for it to be your turn.

The hesitation turns into a quick mumble as he searches for the proper response. You decide to take this moment to your advantage. In one swoop you place your hands on either side of his shorts and pull it all down as you get on your knees, revealing him to you.

You watch as his hardened length slaps against his skin from the quick motion you made. As you come face to face with your target, you wrap one hand around while using your tongue to lick from his base up to his tip. Collecting the precum onto your tongue, you swirl it around.

More mumbles and curses come out of Kenma's mouth as you continue to tease his most sensitive parts. Kenma's hand returns to your hair just like last time and in that moment, you knew exactly what he was going to do.

Without warning, Kenma pushes your mouth deep down his length, muttering more curses along the way. As you continue to pump him in your mouth you take advantage of the parts you found as most sensitive.

Kenma catches on to what your tongue is doing. Feeling mixed emotions about the sensation that brought him too much pleasure, he continued to force your head deeper down his length.

It doesn't take long until you find your mouth filling with his hot fluid just like you had last time. You feel as though you would let some drool out of your mouth, but having him buried so deep still in your mouth made you swallow it all.

After licking him clean, you pull his clothes back up for him. When you stand up a smirk grows across your face at his reaction.

"Wow Kenma you're so flustered," you tease.

You continue to watch as Kenma's face turns a deep red and becomes more flustered after you call him out.

"Weren't you the one who started this whole thing?" you quip, "Yet you're still passive and compliant if you ask me."

Kenma tries to put up a rebuttal but stops as your face nears his ear.

"It's cute how undone you get just from that."

When you stand back up, you flash Kenma an innocent smile. You see his face turn from embarrassed to confused as you change the conversation entirely.

"So, you hungry? We could go to the cafe."

When Kenma nods in response, you pull him out of the storage room.

"You didn't even look to see if anyone was here," he remarks with a bit of a growl.

"Well even though you were kinda loud I probably would have heard if somebody was out here."

With a wink, you walk over to where you left your bag. Kenma follows, grabbing his own, and then leading you out of the room.

📷

"So," you say as you sit down across from your friend, "you tired?"

"Kinda," he admits, "I haven't been getting much sleep between school, volleyball, and video games."

I feel that... but he does look kinda cute when he's tired. Dammit Y/N it's just a friends with benefits thing stop making it more than that!

"Right," you respond awkwardly after your internal lecture, "oh hey about the games thing, do you play chess?"

"Chess?" he asks as he looks at you a bit puzzled, "I can play it."

After his response, Kenma looks down at his phone. You notice a bit of a distressed face as he begins scrolling.

"That's awesome! I think someone taught me a while back but I've got no idea how to play anymore."

"Why do you ask?" he questions as he looks up from his phone.

You tell Kenma about your roommate and how she seems to be some sort of genius. Kenma's interest gets peaked instantly after hearing about your roommate and asks you a bit more about her. After a moment of hesitation, you agree and tell Kenma the few facts that you do know about her.

"That's all I know really," you tell him, "she's always out of the room with-"

Your sentence gets cut off from the sound of Kenma's phone ringing. You tell him that it's alright to answer it so he nods and picks it up.

As he greets the person on the other side of the call, you remember that you didn't yet have his phone number. The one you used the other night to call him was Kuroo's phone.

I should probably ask him for it.

"Yo where did you go?!" you hear Kuroo's loud voice boom through the phone, taking you out of your thoughts.

"I'm with Y/N, eating on campus," he calmly replies to his friend.

"Atta boy!" you hear his voice once more before Kenma finally decides to turn the volume down.

Along with Kenma's, your face feels as though it has been put on fire. You look away from Kenma and decide to focus on eating to get rid of the uncomfortable feeling.

Once Kenma hangs up the phone, he apologizes for Kuroo's behavior.

"That's alright," you say as you let out a soft smile, "anyway I was wondering if I could get your number."

Your decision to bluntly ask Kenma the question you were pondering over left him stunned for a moment.

"Huh?" he says calmly, "don't you already have it?"

"N-No.."

You quickly hand Kenma your phone, allowing him to type in his number. When he gives it back you make sure to save it before putting it away.

"Sorry," he mumbles a moment later, "I just thought I gave it to you already."

#Wattpad #Kenma Kozume #kenma #kenma x y/n #ao3 #fanfic #haikyuu fanfiction #fanfiction #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x female reader #haikyuu reader insert #haikyu x reader

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calliope-love-corner · 3 years

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I remember you

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

It’s a busy day at work when it happens. Spring was slipping closer and closer to summer, and our iced coffee had become especially infamous since our remodel. I’d been working there almost a year now, and had acquired the proud title of assistant manager. We’d renamed the cafe ‘Upton Parlor,’ even though we were nowhere near Upton. My idea, obviously. I’d insisted we keep the deck and outside seating. Overhead fans blasting, coffee grinders humming away, sunlight bleeding in through the big windows. It was peaceful.

Cameron, my coworker, popped into the back while I was taking stock.

“Cal? Someone asked for you up front.”

Probably Melanie. She liked to come in to visit me at this time of day.

“Tell her that I won’t cover her again ‘till I get my Admiral privileges back!” I snicker.

“It’s not one of the usual people who ask for you, though.” Cameron leans in the doorway, glancing behind him- presumably at the counter. I pop up and raise an eyebrow, then follow him out front.

“Wait, wh-” He starts when we step through the door. No one is at the counter. I watch him look all around for where they might have gone out of the corner of my vision, hung over the counter to peer around the corners, but my gaze is locked on the entrance. I swear- I swear I see a familiar pair of heeled boots and a vintage skirt walk down the deck steps. I only see it for a second before the wearer had rounded the corner and gone out of sight.

There was no way. It wasn’t possible. I knew it wasn’t possible. But I had to check.

Not once tearing my gaze from the door, I untie my apron and toss it on the back counter. I hurry across the clean rustic wood floors of my cozy little cafe and break into a jog, running down the steps and landing- almost falling- on the sidewalk. I desperately search the afternoon walking crowd. No luck. I stand up straight and look on wistfully for a moment.

“No…” I mutter to myself. “No, definitely not.”

I was seeing things. Cameron had followed me out to make sure I was okay.

“Just thought I saw someone I knew. Sorry,” I settled on. “It’s no big deal.”

These days it’s easy to tell when someone’s having a moment related to the apocalypse. Though a year had passed by now, there would always be scars. I shook my head and wandered back inside to finish taking stock.

***

The whole rest of the day felt strange. My lunch break felt off, and closing up for the night by myself- usually a peaceful and reflective activity- didn’t feel quite right. My head was swimming and buzzing with activity and doubt- It wasn’t her. It couldn’t have been her. But what if it was? Other avatars survived, why wouldn’t she have? She knew she would die, though. She didn’t wake up at hilltop road with me. It couldn’t have been her. She was gone.

A soft knock at the open door. I heard it, but it didn’t break my train of thought.

“Sorry, I’m just closing up now. We’re open until 8 tomorrow, though!” I say in my best customer service voice over my shoulder, not really looking at the latecomer.

“Cal…?”

My heart stopped.

No. There was no way.

I turn around and drop my broom. Standing unsure of herself in the golden afternoon light, holding on to the doorframe as if to steady herself, stood Annabelle. I looked her up and down. Knee-length purple skirt, heeled ankle boots, white blouse, black ribbon, black purse, stark-white curly hair with a smooth faded undercut, deep black eyes. It certainly looked like her. My hands raise to cover my mouth in denial. Before I can stop it, before I can assess or evaluate or do anything to see if it really is her, tears well up in my eyes and threaten to spill over. Just seeing her- even if it isn’t real- in the flesh, right in front of me is enough to make me choke back a sob. Annabelle gives a sad smile, pursing her lips tight, holding something back.

“...Hi.” She says.

“No…” I reply. “I- is this- you’re…”

I chance a step forward. “Th- there’s no way. This isn’t real.” I stammer. Annabelle bites her lip.

“I…” She searches for the right thing to say. “I know it’s been awhile. And this doesn’t make much sense. But I promise I can explain.”

I take a few more slow steps forward, letting tears spill over my cheeks. I hold out a shaky hand towards her. I remember the rift. I remember the end. I remember what I had to leave behind.

Annabelle steps up to meet me. I see her deep, dark eyes have welled up. My mouth hangs open, and I look at her closely- her nose, her freckles, the piercings on each ear, her lips, her well-styled hair, her slender arms and long legs. She carefully raises her right hand. I take it slowly, letting my fingers intertwine with hers. I meet her eyes. She smiles at me.

I break. I pull her into me, holding her tight in my arms, desperate to feel her close. I tuck my head into her shoulder and sob. Please, please, please be real, I think. I need it to be real.

“I thought I lost you,” I stammer out between shallow breaths of air. “I thought I lost you forever, I- you were gone, and-”

I feel her silently crying as she holds me. “I told you you’d be fine without me. I told you it would be okay.”

I grip at her blouse and definitely leave a gross stain on her shoulder. We fall to the floor in a heap, and we stay there for a while. Annabelle rubs slow circles on my back while I let out heavy cries of relief and while I steady my breathing. When I’m ready, we talk, soft in low voices meant for just us.

“Where have you been..?” I ask, my voice hoarse.

“To put it plainly, I… well, I forgot. I woke up in a hospital with amnesia.”

I pull away for the first time since the light from the sunset faded more than 20 minutes ago. She wipes my eyes and smiles.

“How?” I ask. “How did you get there? I woke up at Hilltop road- what was left of it, anyway…”

She shrugs. “I… can’t know. I like to think something took pity on me, be it the web or some other higher power. Gave me another chance. See?”

Annabelle turned her head to show off where the web-covered hole in her skull once was. It was gone, replaced with smooth skin and soft hair, without a scar or any indication it had ever been there at all. I run my hand over the spot where the wound should have been in awe.

“They treated me as any other amnesia patient going through a trauma response after everything happened.” She continued. “Piece by piece, things started to come back. My upbringing, the people I used to know, things I used to enjoy. When… the full understanding of my alignment with the web came back to me, I… decided not to let the doctors know.”

I let out a pitiful laugh. “Makes sense. The others and I are… pretty low-key about our past employment. It doesn’t get you many brownie points around here.”

She laughs at my comment. I nearly cry just hearing it again. It had been so long.

“They discharged me when I seemed to remember enough to function well, about a month ago now. Most everything had come back to me by then, but- god, I knew something was missing. I felt so… lost. Like I was looking for something important without knowing what it was.”

I do start to cry again. I know where this is going. I hold her tight again, hugging her body close.

“I- I don’t know how it happened. I was out for lunch, and- and I remembered. It just… came back to me. And I remembered why I changed and why I got a second chance at life, and what I was looking for, and who I was missing, and-” Her voice starts to break. She lifts my hand to her chest to feel her racing heart. “And I remembered you. I flew here as soon as I could, and I just- I wasn’t sure how to approach you, it’s been so long, and-”

“God, shut up-” I cut her off, giving her an out to break down into tears without another word.

“I love you so much-” I say into her shirt. She shakes against my body. I feel her warmth, her pulse, her shuddering breath, her tears on my collar, her love. And she’s human. She’s not an Avatar, not an extension of something, not a part of some grand cosmic scheme. She’s real, and she’s human, and she is home. She came home to me. Something gave her a second chance, a second try, where she gets to decide what she is and isn’t a part of. She gets a life where she can experience and feel and simply be the version of herself she wants to be. And she chose to come home to me. Not to manipulate me, not to play the long game, not to get me to fall into her trap, not to make me a pawn in some bigger game of chess- because she wants me.

“God, I can’t fucking believe you-” I stutter, and push away to meet her eyes, clinging tight to her shirt. “I am never letting you out of my sight again, you hear me??”

She wipes her eyes, smiles, and nods. I search her face for just a moment before pulling her into a deep kiss, which she sinks into like jelly. I tangle a hand in her hair and pull away, pressing my forehead to hers.

“I missed you so much.” I mutter to her.

“I’m here now. I’m not leaving.”

“Penny made it through the end, you know? She’ll be happy to see you, though she’s a little more normal now. Less spooky.”

Annabelle laughs. “God, you’re kidding. I can’t believe you kept her.”

I shrug. “What was I gonna do, let her loose on the town? She- well, she was the last piece of you I had left. I couldn’t let that go.”

“That’s sweet, but- Cal, I- I’m sort of… super scared of spiders now.”

For a moment I’m speechless. Then I break down into a fit of teary giggles. “You’re kidding,” I say, “after all that, after I conquered my fear of spiders because I was JUST THAT in love with you, now YOU’RE scared of them??”

Her sweet laugher intertwines with mine. I hold her hands tight. Finally, everything is okay. Everything is right. She’s home.

<< Part 1

<< Part 2

#YES WE GET A HAPPY ENDING WHAT OF IT #i really speedran my grieving over anna #still feel like shit over the podcast ending though #the whole s1 crew sure is fuckign dead now huh #wow ok im going to stop thinking about that. only me and annas good end #we deserve it #f/o #fictional other #selfship #selfshipping #self insert #tma selfship #all part of the master plan 🕷💐🕸#a little creative touch

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diveronaevents · 4 years

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AUTHOR: Rogue

MENTIONED: ORSINO, ROSALINE, JULIET

TRIGGERS: Discussions of past torture/bodily injury, PTSD

SUMMARY: After taking some time to reflect, ROSALINE and ORSINO make a plan to leave Verona. As of MAY 23rd, ROSALINE and ORSINO are permanently in Amsterdam in order to take the city for the Capulets. Rosey will no longer be writing Rafaella in any capacity, but Rogue will continue to write Orion in an extremely limited one (occasional phone calls, emergency visits from characters to Amsterdam should you wish it, etc).

The positions of SPETTRO and ADVISOR are now open. Currently, Cosimo and VOLUMNIA are reviewing candidates for the ADVISOR position. If your character is interested in the SPETTRO position, you are welcome to think about their development, and also to send those thoughts to the main so we can discuss them! Thank you for bearing with us as we figured this out!

The sounds of the city below are a low hum he’s learned to tune out. It’s calm tonight, very few sirens, no drunken raucous to be found as he listens to Rafaella’s quiet breaths, feeling them as her chest rises and falls beneath his head.

He used to hold her like this often. Orion has no issue in the switching of position; it’s the why that trips him up, stealing one of the rare nights of peace until the quiet buzzes like a wasp’s nest in his mind.

She runs her hands through his hair and it feels different. The long nails she used to wear haven’t yet grown back, the foundation slow if they want her hands to eventually be strong and healthy again. She won’t ask, but she feels more than hears her hum as she presses her lips to his temple a moment. He sighs.

“Today was bad.” That’s putting it delicately, but it’s not untrue. Rafaella makes that tiny hum again, but her focus has shifted entirely from her book. It’s set aside on the end-table now, her formerly preoccupied hand finding his so she can link their fingers together. They’re very unlike each other in this one specific way, for all the things they share. When Rafaella tries to hide her hurts from him at first, trying to protect herself or him in some immeasurable way, Orion has no issue sharing his.

He outlines it clearly: there will be no intensive movement of his shoulder for the next twelve months. Were he to do so, he would certainly lose any range of motion, and may end up paralyzed. There are other, more minor hurts that will still take an awful lot of time to heal, but this is the most egregious. This is the injury that debilitates him in the eyes of her Uncle, and Orion has an awful sinking feeling in his chest that he tries to ignore.

(Will it debilitate him in the eyes of Rafaella, too? He’s never worried about this before. He’s never been weak.)

Orion laughs with no bitterness, genuinely amused by how thoroughly Marcelo has decimated him. “They’re really good at their job, hm?” He blinks up at Rafaella, almost coquettish. “I have a type. Competent with a shitty home life.”

Rafaella lets go of his hand and runs a finger down the bridge of his nose before tapping once, lightly. “Don’t forget beautiful.”

“Yes, and works of art. The triad.”

Her mouth twitches at the corners, soft and fond but still reserved compared to several months previous. His Rafaella is quieter, now. He finds he doesn’t mind.

“How long,” he asks calmly, “until Capulet disposes of me?”

The hand in his hair freezes.

“He’s not a man to take kindly to wasted resources,” Orion continues, blithe, even as he reaches for her hand again. He squeezes until Rafaella squeezes back, until he has awareness that she’s listening again. “I’ll certainly be demoted, but I could handle that. It’s the rest that has me on edge.”

Rafaella shifts him off of her so she can look him in the eye. She doesn’t let go of his hand, warm and solid in his. “You are not disposable.” Her eyes are red. He wants to kiss them at the corners.

“Not to you,” he reminds her. “Not to some.” It’s not good enough, not if Capulet is truly headed for war. “I know too much, and there’s no way to ensure my compliance if I’m not being paid for anything. There’s no reason to pay me if I’m not doing anything, and I’m not the right person to be an emissary, even if they weren’t leaning more into fights lately. Two plus two equalling four, the easiest solution would be — “

“No.” This is practically a snarl. Rafaella’s gaze is biting, some of her former venom appearing in the way she bares her teeth with the sound.

He waits. Her mind is so sharp, twisting and unfurling until it blooms with new ideas, potent strategy, or something witty and bold. He wishes he could listen to her think, sometimes. He wants to be in that maze, curve around the edges, hug the walls until he finds her waiting for him at the center.

If he’s realized something, it cannot be long until she realizes it too.

There. He finds it in her eyes, when anger becomes defeat and quickly rallies into determination. “That’s not happening.”

“Of course not.” Orion smiles.

It must be contagious, because her lips curve too, shaking her head. She has far less faith in her ability than he does, but that’s fine. Orion has never been over-burdened with insecurity, but some have said he may be overwhelmed by overconfidence.

If he splits some with Rafaella, it will balance.

“Since it’s not, though,” he points out, “we’re going to have to do something about it, and I don’t have anything in mind.” His head is still fuzzy, sometimes. Things don’t come with perfect clarity. He has been assured that they will, after extensive scans of his brain, but that will come slowly, too. His treasured independence has been cast aside in favor of being coddled and taken care of, and he doesn’t mind half as much as he should, so long as it’s Maeve or Rafaella doing the caring.

She brings their hands up to kiss his knuckles, her gaze very far away.

“I might,” Rafaella admits. Orion never doubted it. “Give me some time.”

When Rafaella Capulet tenders her resignation as Cosimo’s advisor, it does not go the way anyone thinks it will.

That it happens at all is a shock to the bloodstream for almost everyone.

She attends three meetings in the span of a day, one public, one revealed but under the guise of being secretive, and one that is truly kept from the world at large. There are other goodbyes, of course. Other meetings to be had for herself and Orion both, other tender words to share with those who love them and are loved in return, other stolen moments where the pair can be themselves and acknowledge what they’re giving up.

But first, it goes like this:

Near dawn, Rafaella and Juliana Capulet share espresso in Orion’s kitchen. He would call it their kitchen, but she still can’t believe that, can’t hold onto it without fearing she’ll break it. Orion’s house, Orion’s kitchen. She’s an invader he refuses to get rid of.

They talk at length, until the sun is high in the sky and Orion has left for physical therapy. What they speak of, it’s too soon to tell. What they plan for, only the two of them know. In the end, they simply hold each other, holding tight for a very long time, all the while knowing that even when separated, family doesn’t truly end.

Hugs do, though, and finding solace in one another will never quite be the same.

Next, Orion and Rafaella go together to meet two non-descript men in a simple cafe. Nothing is ostentatious, everything quiet, their heads bent low. The Montagues and Capulets alike who pass them by hear Orion and this man conversing in stilted, passable Dutch. When the two men depart, the couple seem extremely satisfied, Rafaella curling around Orion like a cat stretching toward the sun.

The third, of course, is the hardest. Meeting with Cosimo Capulet is never easy. Telling your Uncle you’re leaving him behind is infinitely worse.

Somehow, though, she manages it. She stands strong as she calmly explains their reasoning. Both Orion and Rafaella have been torn apart by this war, bloody and raw, but she doesn’t point that out. They have been nearly broken, slashed into so many times they’re shells of their former selves in so many ways, but these are not reasons that will impress Capulet. And so, with Orion’s hand tight in hers, she lies.

She lies about the up and coming organized crime groups in Amsterdam. She explains the disorganized and chaotic nature of the warring gangs, of how many have fallen victim to hubris and the law. She opens his eyes to a world of her own creation, where Amsterdam has a power vacuum in dire need of filling, and the Capulets desperately need allies if they’re going to win this war without dying out in the process. She spins and spins her web around him with enough half-truths and persuasive words to bring glory to his thoughts, and all the while, Orion’s hand stays in hers.

A role better suited to our current position, she admits, letting the hint of vulnerability in her show for just a moment. Or should I say our current predicament?

It’s easier than she wants it to be. Selfishly, desperately, she wants him to fight for her to stay. Rafaella has been accepted as his family; should he not fight to keep his family together? Yet he considers it with almost cerebral calm, like he’s watching a chess game rather than thinking of the future of his family, and Rafaella’s heart hardens.

When Verona implodes around him, when his throne is viciously stolen, when everything he’s built flourishes while he crumbles himself, Rafaella tells herself she will not be sorry.

#torture tw #torture mention tw #ptsd tw #ptsd mention tw #injury tw #a bittersweet farewell!#diveronadevelopment

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eddiemilkman · 3 years

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- Random Writing Prompt #1 -

Hey there! I’m pretty new to this platform and just trying to find my way around it for now, but I do wanna make a quick low quality post just to fill up a bit of space. I went on this website https://www.servicescape.com/writing-prompt-generator (This one here) and decided a fun thing to do when entering this cite was one of those funky prompts. So I did! And here's a portion of it. It’s late and I have a test tomorrow so I don't wanna stay up too long, but here’s a bit of writing to get a feel of what I’m all about. Hope you enjoy. (Also an important thing to note: I’m not a huge spelling or grammar buff so there’s probably mistakes and I’m sorry.)

ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ #862: ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜɴɢ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ɴᴇɪɢʜʙᴏʀʜᴏᴏᴅ ʙᴏʏ ᴡʜᴏ ʟɪᴋᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴀᴍᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ. ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴅɪʀᴛ ᴘᴏᴏʀ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ꜱᴇᴇᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ; ᴀꜱ ʟᴏɴɢ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴅ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ, ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴀ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ-ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ᴀᴅᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏʀɴᴇʀ. ʜᴇ ɢʀᴇᴡ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴀ ꜱᴛᴀʀ ʙᴀꜱᴋᴇᴛʙᴀʟʟ ᴘʟᴀʏᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ, ɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴡᴇᴀʟᴛʜʏ ʙᴇʏᴏɴᴅ ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ꜱᴇᴇᴍꜱ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ꜰᴏʀɢᴏᴛᴛᴇɴ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ. ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇɴ'ᴛ ᴛᴀʟᴋᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜɪᴍ ɪɴ ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴀ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ ʙʀɪɴɢꜱ ʜɪᴍ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏʟᴅ ɴᴇɪɢʜʙᴏʀʜᴏᴏᴅ, ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴄᴏɴɴᴇᴄᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇɪɴᴛʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ ʜɪᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪꜰᴇ ʜᴇ ʟᴇꜰᴛ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ.

ᴘᴀʀᴛ (1/??) ᴘɪᴄᴋʟᴇ ᴄʜɪᴘ ᴇᴀᴛᴇʀꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘɪᴄᴋʟᴇ ᴄʜɪᴘ ꜱᴇʟʟᴇʀꜱ

When we were young, my mother told me Gary was going to be a total tool. And I didn’t believe her at all. Gary was my friend so I couldn't imagine him growing older and not being good ole Gary. The Gary you could laugh and pig out with. The Gary who would holler and bark so loudly in class, the teacher would have to put him out in the hallway with nothing but his worksheet and pencil bag. He never acted like he was better than anyone else. When the washing machine would run busted, he would flip his shirt and wear it the next school day just like all of the rest of us.

That's why when he was accepted into that fancy-schmancy college for scarf wearers and coffee drinkers, it knocked me straight on my ass. I was happy, and everyone strung up a plastic smile at his going away party, but when he left everything was so...colorless. I wouldn’t deem it tool behavior, but it did solidify my mother's suspicion of him one day up and ditching me. He was my other half and then just dipped out on me for prestigious people who read Shakespeare and go to those cafes where there's wifi. He didn't even know those people! He left his comfortable little river to swim out through the mouth into an ocean of unfamiliar specimens. Sharks and dolphins, all aggressively fighting for a reward neither of us would daydream of.

We both sort of assumed we’d be stuck sweeping the Quick Mart or selling rolled joints to middle schoolers until the end of time. Middle schoolers would never stop loving the abuse of weak drugs and the Quick mart floors would never not have puddles of vomit and booze. That sounds more like a secure job than something you can go to college for. You can turn around one day and boom, the stock market or something crashed (?) I don't know much about business. Anyways yeah, you get my point. Pickle chips and fake cheese the color of a school bus will never go out of style. Stupid businesses that make those fancy indoor bike things will. What if everyone one day woke up and said “wow, I can always just run outside…”. Then what would happen? Those who went to college and got that stinky degree would be thrown out on the street, eating away their stress by scarfing down pickle chips!

I never thought of Gary as a pickle chip eater rather than a pickle chip seller. I mean when we would scribble down our future on printer paper it was incredibly detailed and surprisingly dull for children. The fortune we manifested during a game of M.A.S.H read to us as a mere fantasy. When we reached middle school it was clear we weren't going to live a life of golf courses and acceptable day drinking. We sort of realized this a few weeks into middle school, when we would be lined up against a brick wall while tall beefy police officers with their beastly dogs raided lockers for weed and patted us down for pocket knives. We were treated like deadbeats so we sort of expected it from ourselves and assumed the only way out was if one of us won the Powerball or….if the other one won the Powerball. I thought that was the plan… Man, being a failure alone sort of sucks come to think of it.

I wouldn't call myself a loser, just not a massive winner-ly type. I’m a goal-getter and I'll give myself that. I did land that job at Quick Mart restocking shelves, which is a little bittersweet now.

Gary always popped into my head every other week. I guess I’m just hung up on the stuff I never got to say. Why didn’t he suggest we attend the same college? Why when it came to our future planning was he loud, but in reality, disappeared so quietly?

“CHAS!” A voice echoed behind me. So sharp and stern, mean and crippling. Ugh...Lester. “You’ve been sweeping that corner for 5 minutes! Quit bleeding the clock and go do some actual work!”

I grip the handle of the broom and grunt. Fucking Lester. If there's anyone from high school I didn't want to land a job with, it's that joker. He was scrawny in size but a huge talker. It's crazy how the smallest of people always squawk the loudest. I do what he says because he’s a loudmouth and will probably rant and rave about me to the boss about how I leave all of the work on his tiny frame and he needs someone “competent”. Well, I need someone who doesn't act like a total ass-hat, but my needs haven't been accommodated yet so neither will his. I began toying around with some boxes of wafers on the shelf, just straightening them for no good reason. Sedated by boredom, I find my mind slowly drifting into other places. Where was he? Was he skipping around a college campus, holding onto his textbooks that he had to pay for?! Who pays for his pencils and books and highlighters? I bet he has that little bottle of white paint you slap over pen mistakes because your assignment is just too important for there to be scribbles on.

“GET THE HELL OUTTA 'HERE!”

My body suddenly jolts at the commotion from over near the cash register. Lester was using his thin little arms to violently push a grey round figure into the glass door. The man stumbled over his torn sneakers and gripped the doorframe. Lester used his small fist to pound on his fingers while simultaneously kicking him in the thigh. Once the man let go, Lester used the collar of his worn bomber jacket to throw him out onto the sidewalk. He shuffled from the door with hesitation, breathing like a wolf.

“Damn” I whimper meekly through the gaps of the shelves.

“That’s it, we’re closed.”

“Uh, Larry’s not gonna-”

“That meth head is gonna freak the hell out again. That joker comes in high as a plane every other day, and asks me if he can use his ‘coupons’ which I’ve told him a trillion times are fake and obviously printed out on a home computer-”

“Let him have it”, I squeak “he’s probably just really hungry”

“An iced tea, Slim Jim, and a loaf of bread should fill him up just fine! He treats shopping here like its extreme couponing. The worst part isn't the fake-y coupons, but when he wigs the hell out on me when I deny him. You weren't here when he sprayed me with fake cheese?”

“I think I was late that day”

Lester rolled his eyes.

“‘Course you were. God forbid your 6-foot ass came and protected me from crazy meth addicts.”

“Can we give him the spoils in the back?” I ask as I make my move over to the back room. The pile of “spoiled” food had built up to a mountain of American waste. I was ready to cut a slice into my unofficial take-home pay to get a hungry guy some food. I mean at least he was crafty and wasn't trying to come to rob the place.

“He’s gonna come in here with a gun one of these days.” I from the back room. “And get sent to the joint for a 3 dollar slim jim and pack of Oreos?” Lester strolls in behind me.

“3 square meals a day...” I mutter. Prison never sounded so bad. Free food, chess, television if you’re good. I was a good guy. I'd probably be on kitchen duty or do something fun.

“Well, I wouldn't put it past him...that crazy weirdo”

*Yah so this is the basic rundown of how I write and what maybe most of my posts will look like. As you can see its a umm....*ahem* easy read? I’m not that artistic with my writing sorry. Maybe ill improve one day.*

#writing prop #writing #writing prompt #fiction #short story #writing promp #why did i say prop oh my lord

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sadboyayeron · 4 years

Text

Tapping at my Chamber Door Chapter 3

The lady. Jennifer Hubert judging by the name on the desk plate. Told them to sit in the chair or bench infant of her desk while she went around then in sat down. Kevin sat in the chair directly in front of her. Neil and Andrew took to sitting on the bench on the right side of the wall. It wasn’t a particularly large space but it wasn’t to small to fill claustrophobic with four people inside.

“So Kevin Day, It is very nice to meet you my husband loves watching you guys play Exy,” She smiled at them and then opened a drawer in her desk pulling out two folders. “ Now these paper were just printed out today. One from Nikoshi’s Doctor and another from his psychologist.” Kevin straightened his back more at that.

“Psychologist?” She looked up at Kevin.

“Yes, a lot of children in foster care go to see a therapist. It helps cope with abandonment and makes sure the kids are transitioning well in their new homes.” She opened one of the folders. “Nikoshi saw a therapist who recommended him to a psychologist. He was diagnosed with ADHD/ADD and given medication. He went through three different medications before he was put on Focalin XR. His biggest issues are impulsivity, managing feelings, and energy. There is more information in the folder with getting the prescription at a pharmacy and things to know about his behavior. He takes Focalin every morning before school, its not needed on the weekends but to long off it isn’t the best idea. Though if you want him off the medication, if you ever come to adopting him you can do that.” She looked towards the other two. “Will you two be helping take care of Nikoshi.”

“Yeah we are, is there anything else we need to know. If he needs a therapist we already got that covered. We can send her the information.” Neil replied with a bored tone but

“Thats good to know, he just saw the doctor last week. He gained some weight and is now at a more healthier weight then he was before.” She sighed. “You have to reminded him to eat, he forgets to and he doesn't ask for food. The foster home he was just at was good with keeping a schedule, he ate, took his meds, ate at school, had a snack at home, soccer practice and then dinner. He gets distracted and has little habits that cause him focus to much on random things. The meds take away his hunger also, so it important that he finishes.” She then closed both folders and stacked them together before sliding them to Kevin.

Kevin didn’t know how to process that. This information sounded to familiar. He always had to remind Riko to eat something. Riko would go days without eating, or sleeping, or even both. It got so bad the master had to tube feed him because he past out and didn’t get back up. Niko always got back up. He was taken out of his thoughts when the lady, Jennifer stood. He picked up the folders and got up following Andrew and Neil out the door. Nikoshi was still sitting in his chair, he was singing his legs slowly and seemed fixated on his hands.

“Nikoshi, these gentlemen here are going to be your new guardians,” Niko looked up at them. He got a better look at there faces, now that the glasses were off he could easily recognize who the taller man was with the chess piece on his cheek bone. He was confused o say the least. This had to be some sick joke, or a stupid stuPID dream. He looked at the other too, the screw that littered the red heads tan face and the man with blond hair and black studs.

“Deadass?” He blurted out suddenly. Fuck. He did not mean to blurt that out. Kevin day looked taken back by his statement and the other too snickered from slightly behind him. The lady looked horrified.

“Nikoshi thats not how you take to people.” She said.

“Oh, um... Sorry.” He tried to say hoping he didn't look like a complete dumbass. “But like aren't you famous or something.”

Kevin honestly had know idea what to say to that. He was not prepared for any of this to begin with.

“Come on kid we have to go to the air port, you got everything. “ Andrew glanced at the trash bag sitting next to him and felt a familiar weight on his chest. The kid looked at his stuff and back at Andrew and nodded his head. He grabbed it and stood up. Andrew could see the resemblances to his trash of a father on the kids face but he could also see Nikoshi as the kid that he was. He wanted nothing more then to protect this kid.

“Alright it was nice meeting you three and you behave Nikoshi.” She waved at them before returning to her office. Nikoshi tried to wave back but he kept his hand close to his side still. The red head, Neil Josten gave him a small smile and told him to follow then to there rental car. They went ahead of him but Kevin kept looking back. When they got in the car Neil was sitting in the back with him. Niko sat behind Kevin while Neil was behind Andrew. Andrew turned to look at Niko while Kevin pulled out of the parking lot.

“You hungry?” he asked. Niko realized he never got to eat breakfast, Kris usually made sure he did because she was told to make sure he stayed at healthy weight. He was about to say he hadn’t eaten yet but a quick glance at the clock in the front told him it was already 1:14pm. Instead he shrugged. He wasn’t hungry, but he also knew that the meds took away his hunger and he should probably eat something. “Is there anything you would want to eat.” Yes. Bacon egg and cheese sandwich. He didn't voice that though he just shrugged his shoulders again. Andrew Minyard sighed before looking at Kevin.

“Umm, why don’t we find something at the air port, we haven’t eaten since breakfast so we could eat.” Kevin told him. they made eye contact through the mirror but Kevin quickly averted his eyes.

“Okay.”

Niko decided he did not like Airports. They were overly crowded, had to many security guards, and once they got to the the area with food he did not like that the smells of different foods. Kevin got him a suitcase where just stuffed his trash bag where he stuffed his trash bad inside of. He tended to stay close of all three of them but stayed slightly behind.

“Alright Nikoshi, pick a place you want to eat.” He did not like this. There was a lot of places to eat. A lot of places he has never been. A lot of food he hasn’t tried. He did not like this choice that was given to him. When Kevin noticed he wasn’t going to answer his question he sat his eyes on Niko. Niko did not like this either. Couldn’t they just pick for him. He shrugged his shoulders. Neil and Andrew weren’t surprised but Kevin seemed irritated with him. He didn’t want to come off as irritating he really didn’t know. “Thats not an answer.” He knew that wasn’t an answer but it was the only one he had. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth and moved his feet side to side nervously.

“Cafe con leech and strawberry pop tarts.” Niko blurted. Kevin was bout to say something else but Neil cut him off pointing to a 7/11 that was right next to them on the left. Kevin didn't like the idea of giving a 10 year old coffee but went with it when Andrew flicked him a look. Neil grabbed the pop-tarts while Niko followed Andrew and Kevin to make the coffee. Andrew asked him how he liked it. “Half filled coffee with two spoons of sugar...No it needs to be even with the spoon. Yes. And the other half almost all milk and the vanilla creamer for taste. Yay!”

This kid is getting excited about Andrew doing his coffee how he likes it, what the hell. This better not be a coffee addiction he is feeding. He handed the coffee to the kid ignore Kevin's little frown. This was the first time he saw the kid smile, besides it wasn’t even that much coffee. The kid probably just likes the taste of it. They went to the register meeting Neil who had the pop tart, fruit bowl, chocolate bar, and a sandwich. Andrew could guess who's was who's.

As they sat in the chairs near where there plain was supposed to be in thirty minutes, Nikoshi swung his legs back and forth as he took off the crust around the pop-tart first. Siping his coffee after two pieces. Then he eat the rest of the pop-tart, took a big gulp and did the same thing with the next pop-tart. Kevin found this behavior odd and familiar. “Why are you eating it like that.” Ovisuly was the wrong ting to say because Nikoshi stopped all movement. He looked at Kevin and shrugged. The shrugging again.

“I don’t like the criss to I eat it first and like the drink the cafe at the same time so I get all the flavors. But I don’t like mixing the strawberry with it so I eat that last and then drink more. My foster mom always gave me Cafe con leche and pop-tarts.” Niko wasn’t in the mood to eat anymore. Now he was thinking about it and he didn't want to. He only had a little bit left and knew he had to finish it or else it would be wasting.

Kevin you are a ass. He watch Nikoshi shove the rest into his mouth and then chew ever so slowly while looking around.

“Nikoshi have you done any sports.” Neil leaned forward to look at Niko from where he sat next to Andrew to get a better look at the kid. Niko looked at Neil and nodded. He told them about being on the soccer team. Kevin made a face to that and Andrew gave a tiny smirk. He explained how he was supposed to be right wing, which is like a midfielder that can play both offense and defense and assist the striker or can shoot in the goal. He was supposed to be a right wring but he coach always switched him around the field. He played striker a lot too. He was the fasts on the time. Neil smiled at that. Kevin thought about how good he would be at sexy with his father and mothers genes and quickly tried to shut the thought down. Nikoshi also explained how he played basketball and baseball for fun with some kids in the area.

Soon it was time to bored the plain.

(So I don't know if Im going to continue writing like this, Ideas pop up randomly so I might just stick to doing that)

This is possibly the last chapter but Im still going to be talking about Niko. Send me asked about him if you want.

#nikoshi #nikoshi doe #nikoshi motherfucking doe #the only valid moriyama #kevin day #andrew minyard #neil josten #all for the game #all for the game fanfic #aftg #aftg fic #tfh

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callumsmitchells · 5 years

Text

with the exception of you i dislike everyone in the room (ao3)

one.

The first time either of them felt it was their first kiss. Despite it being June, the normal warmth of summer nights hadn't quite arrived yet, and so there was a slight nip in the air - but that wasn't the only thing causing goose bumps to appear on the skin of Ben and Callum. This wasn't meant to happen. Callum wasn't supposed to be kissing anyone other than Whitney, least of all a man, but it just felt right. It felt natural, and felt right. It was as though the two of them moulded into each other, as though they were made to share this moment. From the second Ben practically cradled Callum's face, a shiver coursed down his spine, the tingling sensation causing his cheeks to flush a pink colour, and Callum was grateful that it was dark outside and the likelihood of Ben seeing his blushed cheeks was slim - but he probably could feel it.

When their lips finally slotted together it was evident that every moment leading up to this was worth it. Every sarcastic comment, every longing stare: it all culminated into this one secret rendezvous and the stars aligned in their eyes. Moans from Callum invaded Ben's ears and mind and it made him want Callum even more, pulling their bodies ever closer as they rushed to expose even more skin. The fact that they were in a public park and could be caught at any moment didn't even occur to either of them, and to be honest, neither of them would have really cared because all that mattered as they shared their first together was each other.

Ben's fingers ran through Callum's hair, with Callum instinctively groaning out Ben's name, unable to keep his hands off his body.

A symphony of 'this should not be happening' rushed through Callum's brain, but as quick as he thought that, he pushed it to the back of his mind because there was something in him that made him physically incapable of pushing Ben off of him. It was as though some magnetic force propelled them together and it just worked. Ben smiled into the kiss, allowing Callum to make all the first moves, and he swore that he hadn't felt like this in so long. It was a scary thought to comprehend, but as Callum's lips left Ben's own to move to his neck, soft, short moans fumbling out, all Ben could think about was how he somehow knew he could grow to love Callum.

two.

Ben was brooding. Ever since that night he and Callum shared together, he secretly longed to spend more time with him, but he couldn't. All he could do was drown his sorrows in several pint glasses and different faceless men from his app. But neither of those men were Callum, nor could they ever compare.

He thought he could get over him, just like he did with everyone else. It was just a one night stand, it didn't mean anything - but that was far from the truth. It just made matters worse that Callum had now proposed to Whitney, and instead of Ben spending the time he wanted with Callum, it was as though nothing had ever even happened between the pair of them as Callum wrapped his arms around Whitney, both of them planning their wedding. It was all a big farce, and Ben wanted nothing of it. The problem was, he couldn't keep his eyes off of Callum. To an outsider, who didn't know his darkest secret, he just looked like a newly engaged, ecstatic man, but to Ben he just looked lost and empty. It just made Ben want him all the more.

With every hug Ben witnessed, he winced and forced himself to look away as his heart shattered that little bit more. He wasn't even sure why, but he just wanted Callum in every way available to him, but he knew that it was near impossible now. He couldn't out him, he wouldn't do that to Callum. It was just a waiting game now, to see if Callum would actually go through with the wedding. Ben hoped he wouldn't, because it was breaking the both of them already. All he could hear was the wedding plans, Whitney gushing about all her initial plans and Callum humming in acceptance. Ben had to bite his tongue to stop him from mentioning her failed marriage to Lee and that he hopes this one actually works out.

A feeling of sinking deep in the pit of his stomach overtook his body, and he breathed heavily. Maybe Callum really was happy with Whitney. Ben wanted to make him happy though, he's sure he could.

three.

Callum was only supposed to get a cup of tea and a full English, but Ben clearly had other ideas. Not that he realised it. Walford was only a small place, they were bound to bump into each other most days, but Callum wasn't expecting to be faced with Ben eating his breakfast in the cafe with Lexi in his lap, her reading him a story whilst eating toast. It looked so domestic, and Callum couldn't help but smile.

Ben didn't even notice that Callum was there, let only looking at the two of them sharing their morning together - and also apparently breakfast, considering Ben had what seemed to be the nutella from Lexi's toast smeared over his cheeks.

"Daddy are you listening?" She asked, and Callum couldn't help but smile wider, because he could see what Lexi couldn't. Ben was transfixed on her story, miming the more difficult of words as she stumbled over them and then grinning from ear to ear when she succeeded in saying them correctly.

"Course I am baby." He said softly. Callum swears he'd never heard Ben speak like that before. It was like Lexi had some sort of magic power over him. "Carry on, I want to hear more." Lexi resumed, and Ben couldn't take his eyes off of her. Callum, whilst eating the rest of his own breakfast, realised that Lexi had Ben's eyes, and that realisation scared him, because Callum wasn't even aware he knew what Ben's eyes looked like.

His heart fluttered, seeing this picture in front of him, Ben grinning, drinking coffee whilst Lexi did different voices to match the characters in his story. It was so domestic, so happy, and Callum wanted to be a part of their relationship. The story had ended long after Callum had finished his breakfast and his tea had long since been stone cold, and he knew Jay would be on his back about showing up to work late, but it was so worth it just to hear Lexi's giggles as Ben had cuddled and tickled her, proud as punch at how amazing his little girl was. The smile on Ben's face was worth waiting for as well. He looked so blissfully happy, and Callum had been waiting a long time to see him like that, with crinkles in the corner of his eyes as he beamed widely.

four.

Ben got his wish. The wedding didn't go ahead. As much as he loves the idea of being smug about it, he just wanted to see Callum, just to check that he was okay. He imagined it was a stressful thing, being jilted at the altar, even for a gay man who was willing to dive headfirst into a straight marriage. Ben found Callum in his bedroom, looking at Whitney's discarded pink wedding dress. He looked lost, truth be told, as though he was in a massive game of chess and he didn't know what his next move was. He just needed comforting, and that is exactly what Ben offered, opening his arms and cradling Callum.

He had the faintest hint of booze on his breath, sighing against Ben's neck as his fingers threaded through Ben's hair. They finally managed to spend some time together, just the two of them. Ben's eyes looked over Callum's body, admiring how good he actually looked in this new suit. He realised that he really did truly like Callum, and that was such a strange feeling for Ben to have, even after all these years of being 'out and proud', so to say. Ben just wanted to tell him, so that's exactly what he did.

"That's why I like ya." He admitted, shyly smiling, slightly embarrassed that he had actually admitted it, especially when Callum should be married to someone else by now if it had all gone to plan.

Callum's heart stopped beating for a second, feeling like the room was spinning. So many words and questions whizzed around his head, but his throat felt closed, halting him from speaking. He leaned forward, ready to kiss Ben, scared for what was about to come, but needing to touch him. He'd felt something like this before, and in his hearts of hearts he knew he was in love with Ben Mitchell.

five.

Blood gushed out of Ben, the claret liquid pooling around his body, seeping through to Callum's suit as he held towels to his body, trying to stop Ben from losing any more blood. Hunter was still towering over them, holding his gun out on everyone in the pub, threatening anybody who tried to speak or attempted to move. Callum was scared for his life, with the crazed lunatic merely metres away from him, but he was more scared for Ben, terrified of losing him.

He remembered his army training, and flashes of Chris and Ben ran through his mind, but he put them to one side and focused on the task at hand - saving the dying man he loved. Callum listened as Ben told him the story he had been telling Lexi, smiling as Ben managed to get through every word, hoping that every second was a second closer to Ben getting the proper help he needs. The blood covered his hands now, but he didn't care how messy it was, he just wanted Ben alive so he could tell Lexi the ending to their story himself. He couldn't stand seeing Ben hurt though, and silently promised that this would be the last time anybody ever laid a finger on Ben.

In the moment, Callum knew that people would be staring at him with Ben, probably wondering why he was getting so emotional because they weren't aware that they were friends - but he knew they were so much more than just friends. The anxiety he had over people being able to see that Callum was in love transformed into anxiety over needing to save Ben, because he wasn't about to let Ben slip away in his arms, leaving Lexi without her dad. He wanted to give his breath to Ben, to save him, and that's why he was so happy when Ben was peeled off him and carted into an ambulance. He knew he was safe then. He knew he had to tell him he loved him.

+ one.

Ben had asked for Callum the second he had woken up from his coma, apparently. Callum hadn't been there, but he wished he had. He just felt awkward being around Ben's family, with none of them really knowing him and certainly not knowing the real reason why he was so anxious waiting for Ben to come around.

Callum knocked on the door, slowly walking into the room where Ben lay on the hospital bed, several wires attached to him, but less than the last time Callum had seen him, with Ben now fully conscious and able to breathe on his own merit.

"You asked for me?" Callum quizzed, his throat suddenly dry.

Ben looked at him and smiled, looking tired but over the moon to see Callum was okay. "Yeah." Ben nodded. "Come 'ere."

Callum walked closer to him, perching on the edge of the bed, his hand out on the mattress, Ben's own only millimetres away. Ben made the first move, entwining their fingers together. It just felt natural, like they belonged. Callum lifted their hands up, and he doesn't know why, but pressed his lips to Ben's hand, before gently placing them back down together, their fingers not once separating.

"I'm glad you're awake." Callum said. "Scared me a little bit."

Ben huffed out a laugh, wincing seconds later because it hurt to do that just yet. "I'm glad I'm awake too. That's why I wanted you here, because you saved my life Cal."

Callum shrugged nonchalantly. "Just did what anyone would've. Anyway, you ruined my suit."

Ben grinned, remembering how good Callum actually looked in that light grey suit.

"So you wanted me here because I saved you?" Callum asked, noticing that Ben's thumb was now doing gentle circles on Callum's skin.

"Not really." Ben answered. "I wanted you here because I needed to tell you something."

"Go on then." Callum ushered, pulling his eyes away from their conjoined hands and to Ben's face.

"Kiss me." Ben whispered, his voice hoarse all of a sudden.

Callum didn't need telling twice. He'd wanted to do this for days, lost without Ben's lips on his. It was just like that night in the park when their lips finally touched again, goose bumps appearing on each others skin, Ben's fingers tracing through Callum's hair, Callum's hands on Ben's cheeks, noticing that his facial hair had grown a lot thicker in the time Ben had been in his coma. Callum pulled away first, realising that Ben was struggling to breathe, which the doctor had informed them was normal. "I love you." Callum whispered, only inches away from Ben's face, eyes shut. "And I'm sorry I couldn't tell you before now but I was terrified. I've known for a long time that I'm gay but I had to hide it from everyone, and the longer that went on the more scared I got - but I'm not scared anymore Ben. I love you, and I want you, no matter what anyone says."

Ben smiled, opening his eyes to see Callum staring right at him, tears welling up, making his eyes so much brighter. He leaned forward, pecking Callum's lips again. Stretching was painful, but it was so worth it to be able to taste Callum for even a second. "I love you too. I'm so ready to be with you, properly."

#ballum #ben mitchell x callum highway #benway #ben mitchell #callum highway #myfic

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anyberry · 5 years

Text

In Between Wires (Cyberpunk AU - Sterek) Part 1

The city looked particularly bleak that day as Derek made his way through the crowded streets. Derek chose to retreat from the city to the woods over five years ago. No matter how many times he did his best to never return, he found himself back. Regular semi-monthly trips for special supplies were never as taxing. This was different. Derek returned with a mission and a purpose. Scott, an old friend who has been visiting frequently since he left, had finally called to talk, saying that he found his uncle.

Derek agreed to meet with Scott near the police bureau. It seems as though every month, the police department would be expanded and receive even more funding. Yet no matter how things changed, crime was on the rise. Derek did his best to avoid looking at anyone. He did not fear anyone on the streets, but more of what he would have to do in case any of them were as stupid enough to attack him. Everyone would just push around each other, people trying to sell what was in their stalls and in their pockets.

All buildings were built to the sky. While the bottom levels were shops and cafes, higher up, people lived. Looking up, you could see electric neon signs, trying to sell something. If you look even higher up, you can see people’s laundry hanging across ropes. Even though it has not been a whole day, he already misses looking up to see trees. Long beautiful pine trees. After a night full of rain. There is nothing beautiful in the city for Derek.

Derek finally reached the main police branch building where Scott has been waiting for him, looking down at his phone in hand. As Derek approached, Scott did not look up but the two started to walk side by side as if they have always walked near each other. “So what is the news on Peter?”

Scott continued to look down like he was not even talking to him. “My best friend has gathered security footage of him from one of the Southern districts. He was seen selling some information but we don’t know much else. For now, that is. We at least have a lead for the first time.”

“So what now?”

“Now we have to go to meet that friend.”

“Is there a particular reason he could not come out to a better place to talk?” Derek asked and Scott nodded uncomfortably, finally looking up as they enter the building. “Stiles is in a sort of delicate situation.” He did not explain what he possibly meant with such cryptic language.

They made their way to the 38th floor of the building, no one asking them who they are as seemingly everyone got used to seeing Scott around here often. They headed to an isolated office, far away from all others around it. “Does your friend know about everything?” Derek asked as they were further away from everyone else.

“Oh yeah. He was one of the first few people who knew when I was changed.”

Derek did not like a lot of normal people knowing, but as with everyone, no matter the risk, they always trust their best friends. They made their way to end to a room that had caution tape on its door and a fingerprint scanner to enter the door. “Excessive much?”

“More like Stiles is really extra these days. Don’t mind it.”

Scott scanned his thumb and lead Derek inside. The whole room initially looked as if it was made of wires. Wires and screens covered the room like they were the materials used to build this room. That is when Derek first laid eyes on Stiles.

On very first glance, it looked as if Stiles was connected to the wires as he was surrounded by them. But on further inspection, he really was connected to them. There was an IV in his arm and a nasal cannula connected to a tank right next to him. Derek felt stunned into place for a moment. He looked both frail and unbreakable at the same time. On one hand, he had very pale skin with a blue undertone and veins that were seen very clearly. On the other hand, he was not weak in how he carried himself. Stiles sat with one leg bent and the other thrown over the arm of his chair. He had a tv going on with the current news going on, several screens with unknown data and statistics. He had a laptop in front of his balanced on top of his air tank, a tablet with some unknown article, and a phone in his hand that had a game of chess.

Stiles began to talk without any introduction or anything. “I looked into the men to whom he was selling information to and they are an independent gang. I am currently trying to figure out what the exact information itself is but all that I can really say is that I don’t actually believe he is actively involved with them.”

Derek scowled at the news. “So does that mean we don’t actually have anything on him?” he asked Stiles.

Stiles finally smiled and his teeth look blue in the light of his screens. There was something a little wicked in that smile. It was clear to Derek that even though this guy had no magic in him, he was still dangerous. “Now, now wolf boy. Don’t be impatient.” Derek was in no mood for jokes, a little growl escaped his mouth. Stiles actually retreated back a little in his chair, actually looking a little nervous.

“Alright, alright. Jeez. Don’t get your cords in a knot.” He said, adjusting himself in his seat. “Here is the deal. I looked for all possible ties Peter Hale could have had with this particular group of gentlemen and I found a single girl’s name, Eliza Downtey. She worked with Peter before and each time her name would appear in his bank history, it was often enough that the next purchase that Peter would make was for some sort of plane ticket. Now, he was paid only several hours ago by Miss Downtey and he bought a ticket that I was able to track down...” He let his own voice go down into a whisper before stopping.

“And?” Derek demanded as this could be the exact information that he needed. Stiles shook his head a little and turned to Scott. “Scott. Buddy. My man. My main man.”

Scott looked uncomfortable and uneasy. “Stiles, come on. We talked about this,” he protested.

“You talked, Scott. I heard you. I understand. You can even say that I agree with your point but,” Stiles finally got up from his seat, putting his tablet and phone aside. For some reason, Derek felt as though Stiles should have been some how too weak to stand up properly but he was fine. Almost looking normal with his back turned from the screens. “I just don’t care, Scott. I am going to die anyway. If I get an extra week, it won’t help. Hand it over.”

Scott stared at his best friend, not breaking eye contact before finally giving up. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a bottle of rum, a pack of cigarettes, and vape juice. Stiles took everything and smiled again in the same cold matter as before, it was like his eyes were saying that he did not actually mean it. “Thanks, man.”

“Stiles, you really need to stop doing this. Your doctors said you do have a chance of recovering if you just go into treatment and then...” Scott tried to reason with him but Stiles just kept the smile on his face. Stiles walked over to the window in the corner of the room and put a pillow on the window sill before opening the window. The city noise poured in from far below in a faint echo. Stiles finished Scott’s sentence. “And then I will die in seven months instead of six. Scott. Please. I would rather sit here instead of going to the doctors. I will die. Let’s not play around with that anymore. If I go, I would rather go high, drunk, and with a cigarette butt in hand than with a nutritious cocktail and a medical debt for my father.”

Stiles took out his nasal cannula and lit a cigarette, taking a drag and then coughing a little. “Anyway... The ticket.”

Derek felt very strange having actually forgotten the ticket for a moment. Everything about this situation tasted like bitter medicine that he had to swallow.

Stiles unscrewed the rum and poured it in a semi-dirty glass with some coke. “Peter took a plane to the Northern Pacific islands. I have some theories why, the best one I have is that he has his hiding spot somewhere in that area. And that would make sense. It is a nice little place with sun shine, blue oceans, and high rates of human trafficking for sex trade.”

Derek had some rage return to him with the mention of Peter’s name. “When is he leaving?” he demanded, to which Stiles snorted a little bit. “Here is the fun part.” He finished up his cigarette even though it was visible that it was not that easy for him to inhale the smoke, he did it long but fast drags.

“Peter was actually supposed to have already gone. He even registered for the flight. But then he never actually boarded. I have a few theories there as well. Initially, I thought that he got into some kind of trouble. But then he made a few more simple purchases in a convenience store so he didn’t seem to be scared out there. I think he was given an offer that he could not refuse. I think he was given an opportunity to do something quickly. His ticket will be valid for the exact same flight at the exact same time this Friday. He did not refund his ticket so I believe that he will be there for that.” Stiles smiles and kicks back on the window sill with his drink and lights another cigarette.

Derek thought about what Stiles just said. This is his opportunity to actually catch him. He had some close allies still in the city who would be able to find Peter. He could not go himself as he would immediately trace him in a crowd. But he would need to be here when Peter would finally be caught. But a little question dawned on him. “So what now?” he asked.

Scott was the one who answered him. “Waiting. Just waiting really. That is all we can do. It is still just Wednesday. We don’t have any other lead on him until then.”

Derek looked down. It would be a pain to go back home now. But also, staying in the city, he would need a place to stay for two nights. Any hotel was out of the question as they cost insane amounts of money in the very center of such a packed metropolitan city. “Alright. Thanks. I guess I will go. I will need to find somewhere to sleep.”

Scott frowned. “I am really sorry that I can’t let you stay at my place. My mom is currently...”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Don’t worry about it. Just because I choose not to live here, doesn’t mean I am hopeless in the streets.” Derek said.

Stiles threw the second cigarette butt from the window before returning the tubes were they belong. “Oh please. So dramatic.” He made his way back to his seat and got back to his screens. “I have a lot to do tonight. And you know me, I never actually sleep at nights. I usually start considering the possibility when the second sunrise decides to creep up. I have had way too many energy drinks to be doing any sleep tonight. My bed is in the back room. You can crash here for the night and run along in the morning. I don’t care.”

Derek took up Stiles on his offered and headed to the back room. It was a dark little space that was surprisingly clean compared to the other room. But it looked just unlived in more than anything. Derek took off his shift and jeans, lying down in the dark. He could not smell any of the cigarettes, alcohol or medicine that was the distinct smell for Stiles.

Scott stayed with Stiles for a few hours and Derek could not help but choose to listen in on their conversation. Scott made another attempt to negociate his friend’s lifestyle decisions, all in vain. He could tell that Stiles was probably right as it was clear that something was killing him. It was not Derek’s business although it would be a real shame if his help was needed again and he was either too weak or dead. He wanted to rationalize how he felt then and there. He could not. He could not help thinking that he wanted to look at Stiles longer.

Something about him made it difficult to breathe. He was far from being in a glorious state but he was also far from being broken. He was sharp and with a sense of wit about him. But also, almost more than that, there was something magnetic in the way he looks. He has no idea why some guy with pale skin, dark circles under his eyes, and who was actively ordering flowers for his funeral was so attractive to him.

Derek eventually started to get drowsy despite some of the city noise still coming in from the open window. He adjusted himself in bed to face the wall, the blanket pulled over his head.

Derek listened to Stiles shuffling around somewhere in the bathroom, washing up. He must have started to fall asleep to not have noticed Stiles walk over to him. “Hey, there.” Stiles gently poked him, checking to see if he was awake. Derek grunted in response, “What do you want?”

“You.”

Derek felt wide awake after the utterance of the single-syllable word. Stiles spoke to him in a quiet whisper. “I could feel you checking me out earlier.”

Derek thought for a second and decided to sit up to face him. Stiles could not help but let his eye briefly wander over Derek’s shirtless chest. “I am not gay,” Derek told him.

Stiles smiles, but this time it was different. A quieter smiles somehow. “I didn’t say you were. I just think you were checking me out. I think I check you out. Just a little bit.” He bit lower lip just for a moment and it was hard not to stare at how he licked it afterward. “I don’t have the time in my life to careful poke at you over time and see if you decide to respond to my advances. Actually having an idea of how your life clock looks can make you a little more... brave.”

“You don’t seem bothered.”

“I have had enough drinks to get the balls to ask and enough self-hate to understand you telling me to fuck off. Having said that, here is my offer, for lack of a better word. You fuck me into the bed, you can leave without saying anything about it, I won’t ever mention it, and then pretty soon, I will take it with me when I go.” Stiles leaned back, brushing his hair back for it to only bounce back immediately. “I want you right now. Do you want me?”

Derek decided not to really think about it because if he did, he would naturally tell himself to do the right thing. So he just acted. He grabbed Stiles by the back of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

Stiles tasted like alcohol, tobacco, and bad decisions. Derek moved to his neck and bit down, not too hard as he was testing limits. Stiles moaned loudly and it felt wonderful against Derek’s lips. Stiles was feeling impatient enough to move to sit across Derek’s lap and grinding his hips. After letting Derek leave so bruises on him, he moved down.

Stiles did not have experience in sucking dick but he did have more than enough enthusiasm. He pulled down his boxers and got to work. Derek could not help but pull on his hair and push him down a few times when he’d slack. Stiles was all for it. He did not struggle to take him all in nor did he even flinch when he finally came into his mouth.

Last time Derek received head, the idea of kissing the person afterward seemed unthinkable but here he is. Pulling Stiles in for a kiss right after. He did not care. He finally pulled off Stile’s shirt and yanked a little on his hair to get good access to the crook of his neck. He bit him harder this time, a proper bite. Stiles screamed out but he absolutely loved it. “Fuck yes.” He gasped.

That out cry was what pushed away any last bit of hesitation. Derek ran his hand down his back and into his jeans to squeeze his ass. “Are you going to get on with it or do you want me to beg?” Stiles teased. Derek replied to that by slapping his ass with his other hand. Stiles gasped and decided to bite down on Derek himself.

After another kiss, Derek pulled Stiles on all fours. There was lube on the night stand and Derek found it effortless to slip two fingers inside of him. He clearly prepared for this with intensions to get fucked. Everything felt more urgent and heated. Derek had no idea why this guy of all people could cause such a fire to burn inside of him when no one could get close to that in a really long time.

Stiles looked up at him with hungry eyes, panting a little. “Please.” That was enough to drive him off the edge there. Derek pulled Stile’s jeans all the way off and got him to spread his legs more.

Once Derek thrust in, Stiles moaned loudly but that is not what he wanted. He wanted to hear him scream. Scream he did when he started to fuck him nice and hard. Stiles could not think of anything at the moment as his senses became overwhelmed. He just moaned, gasped and screamed.

After seemingly hours of fucking and a lot more, the two of them finally hit the bed, gasping for air. “I am guessing you are not going to stay up,” Derek said.

Stiles laughed in response. “I don’t think I have any energy to move. Ugh. But have to.” Stiles found it in him to get up and get his tank hauled over to the bed. In the mean time, Derek went to the bathroom and cleaned himself off. He could not help but feel awkward when he finally got into bed, pulling his boxers back on. He had to face the fact that he has repressed sexuality that he needs to reflect on later. But after Stiles finished cleaning himself off, put on sweat pants and made his way into bed, things nothing felt that important.

There was still a world of issues. He had to worry about Peter. He had to get out of the city again. But all that he could really think about what that he could wrap an arm around Stiles and keep him close. Derek could feel Stile’s low heart rate against his chest and it just made him more tired than ever as his own heart rate dropped to meet his halfway.

#sterek #cyberpunk #teen wolf #au #angst #in between wires #smut #fluff

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notquitejiraiya · 5 years

Text

Chess [10] - {ShikaTema AU}

Apologies that it’s been a while but I’m done with uni until January now so stress has slightly subsided. Love you all and hope you enjoy this chapter!

As always, I’d love to hear what you think of it. And, once again, thanks so much for reading!

CHAPTER TEN

For her brothers to believe her lie that she was going to work at the all night cafe a few streets away and not to secretly meet someone, Temari had been made to carry her files around in her bag, but after only five minutes waiting outside the fish-and-chip shop, she found herself unable to keep hold of it anymore. Checking her phone once again, she slid down against the wall and put her bag beside her on the floor. It was almost nine-thirty, and she’d been waiting for her chips since nine-twenty-three. She’d been waiting for him since nine-fifteen.

Give it five more minutes, she decided, and I’m going home.

Meanwhile, Shikamaru speed walked down the street, desperately trying to stop himself from slowing to a halt and lighting a cigarette to calm his nerves. Instead, he powered on forward in the knowledge he was late, turning the final corner before he saw her, slumped against the window outside, and staring straight ahead across the road.

He physically couldn’t stop himself starting to run towards her.

“Hey!” he called out.

Her head whipped round, her ponytail flailing, but instead of heading over to him when she jumped to her feet, she disappeared into the door behind her.

Shikamaru couldn’t help the wave of disappointment that flew over him, nor could he stop his feet from running toward the shop. He needed to see her.

When he reached his goal, he saw her through the window, smiling at the man over the counter as she grabbed a small bag from him. Wrapped up in a tartan scarf and big fluffy coat, chunky boots at her feet instead of the smart ones she wore at her office, he couldn’t help but stare at her in awe. And in that moment, it didn’t matter how cold the air was, his hands started to grow clammy with nerves.

“Hey,” she said, smiling with the guiltiest look on her face. “I’m sorry—I had to get food.” She stuffed a chip into her mouth. “Kankuro and his girlfriend wanted to be alone and I was not going to argue, and I couldn’t cook anything.”

Blushing, and hoping it would pass off as the wind burning his cheeks, Shikamaru shook his head, tapping his foot. “No worries. I won’t keep you long.”

“It’s fine,” sighed Temari, “but we should probably go somewhere...not here.”

“Why?”

“Well, not to be a downer but I would be sacked if anyone who I work with found out I did this, and our receptionist lives just round the corner, so...”

Shikamaru nodded. “I get it. Maybe we shouldn’t—”

“No!” she interrupted, just a little too quickly. “Just follow me.”

As they began to walk, Shikamaru couldn’t help smiling into the scarf around his neck, hoping she couldn’t see. It was a weird feeling—he felt so calm in her presence that he’d almost forgotten outright what it was that was bothering him. “Thank you,” he said, trying not to let the situation become silent too quickly. “I was just feeling so low and, well, I know you help me.”

“I get it.” Temari smiled, offering out the bag containing her dinner. “Have some.”

“I already ate,” he lied.

“Oh, okay.”

She seemed disheartened, and Shikamaru’s heart dropped. Out of habit he whipped out his cigarettes and put one to his lips, reaching into his pocket for his lighter, but, as he did so, he caught her staring out the corner of his eye.

“Are you not alright with cigarettes?”

Temari looked taken aback, clearly believing he hadn’t seen her. She quickly busied herself eating and shook her head. “Oh, sorry. No. You do whatever.”

The tiny flame illuminated his face in such a way that she could see every little detail; the tiny little smile lines around his mouth, the varying shades of brown that rampaged in his eyes, and the sharpness of each of his features. He shivered as he took in his first drag of the cigarette, and Temari couldn’t help opening her mouth. “You’re not warm enough.”

“You sound like my mother,” he chuckled, a small smoke cloud coming out as he spoke. “I’m fine.”

“You’re skin and bone. You’ve not got any fat on you to keep you warm, Shikamaru.” She shook her head. “And fingerless gloves don’t do much for keeping you warm.”

“But they do work better for using my lighter.”

“Why am I not surprised you’re a smoker?”

Shikamaru shrugged. “Because I told you the other day that I was.”

“No, I mean, a smoker smoker. You’re not just a casual, have a ciggy when I need one kind of guy, are you?” she quizzed. “You constantly do it, don’t you? You reek of smoke. Constantly.”

“Thank you for the confidence boost.”

“That isn’t what I meant,” she groaned. “I love the smell of smoke.”

“So do I.”

“I guessed.”

He chuckled. “You came here to listen to me, not grill me about my habits.”

“I’m not grilling you!”

The chuckle grew to a full blown grin and he took another drag. “You’re funny, Temari.”

She frowned. “I’m not funny, I’m just talking.”

“I know,” he mumbled, cigarette poking out the corner of his mouth. “It’s just that you act like you’re hard but you’re obviously a softie.”

“I’m not—”

“It’s not a bad thing.”

“Why is it funny then?”

His dark eyes shifted and locked with hers, bright and beautiful before he sped up. “Doesn’t matter.”

Temari huffed and walked faster to catch up with him. They neared the end of the road, at which stood an entrance to a small park, littered with benches. The trees were so luscious here; evergreen and beautiful, living through the winter. As they stepped through the gates and into the greenery, she had reached the bottom of her bag of food, Temari found it difficult to read Shikamaru. He walked slightly ahead, one hand in his pocket, the other clutching the remains of his cigarette between two fingers.

“So, you want to talk to me?”

He didn’t turn. “Mhmm.”

“Talk then,” she chuckled, impatiently. “I could get in serious trouble, and I just want to know something good came from this.”

Shikamaru’s feet shuffled to a halt and he looked up at the sky through the gaps in the trees. “I was thinking all day about what you said; about me having destructive thinking patterns.”

“Okay.” Temari slowly parked herself beside him and shared his view. “And?”

“And I was trying to think about what they are, especially after I saw your brother in the bakery.”

Temari blushed. “Yeah he told me about that. I’m so sorry about him.”

“That’s the thing, I didn’t feel like he did anything wrong. He was intense, sure, but I felt like I was being...I dunno, a bit of a dick for not talking to him much.” He turned, looking down into her eyes. “I just told him I didn’t think that we were meant to talk, and then I felt like I’d ruined his day.”

“You didn’t.”

“Yeah, I’m aware of that. Perfectly aware of that. But I couldn’t just separate myself from it.”

“I understand,” Temari sighed. “Maybe you’re not as much of a puzzle as I thought you were, Shikamaru.”

He bit down on his lip and looked away, fishing out another cigarette from his pocket.

“I thought you were going to have all these deep rooted and unsolvable issues,” she smiled, hoping he’d see her. But he didn’t turn. “Thing is, I think you just want everybody to be happy.”

Shikamaru shrugged, lighting the stick of tobacco and puffing on it.

“You do, don’t you? You want everyone to be happy, and you feel like you stop that happening.”

“I guess so,” he mumbled. “But that’s not important enough a feeling to make someone feel like they want to...you know...”

Temari shook her head. “No, it can be. Everyone has different intensities of emotion.”

He smirked and started to wander off, cigarette glued to his mouth and arms hand raised as though greeting someone. “Hi,” he said, as if on a game show, “I’m Shikamaru Nara and I want to die because I can’t bring world peace.” He turned and looked at her in disbelief, half smiling to keep his smoke in place. “I’m sorry, Tem, but that’s bollocks.”

Temari felt her heart flutter. Only her brothers these days called her Tem, but the feeling of Shikamaru casually talking to her, calling her by a nickname on instinct...well, that felt worryingly normal; worryingly nice.

Clearly he’d noticed the surprised look on her face. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Temari, I meant.”

“No.” She stepped towards him, her expression warm and welcoming. “Tem is fine.”

“Sure?”

“Sure,” she sighed. “Just maybe don’t make blasé statements like that, yeah?”

“But it just doesn’t seem like—”

“Shikamaru?” Her interruption was brutally sharp. “Can I have a smoke?”

He raised his eyebrows, holding back a laugh in shock. “After you just grilled me about—”

“I didn’t grill you!”

“Surely you don’t smoke.”

“I socially smoke. When I drink and it’s cold.”

Shikamaru let his hand fall into his pocket. “You’re not drinking.”

“But it is freezing cold. Come on,” she begged. “It’s the least you can do.”

“The least I could do would be to give you a drag of mine,” he chuckled.

Sighing, Temari stepped closer and looked up into his eyes. “That’ll do, if they’re that precious to you.”

Amazed, he took it from his mouth and handed it over, hiding himself in his scarf once again. He watched as Temari took a drag and held it back out to him, letting the smoke drift as she breathed out, and looked her dead in the eye.

It was pure torture how beautiful she was. Never had Shikamaru felt compelled to tell a woman that she was beautiful, or ask her for coffee; never until now, with the exact woman that it was totally impossible to ask that. With a smile he took back the cigarette, breathing in before handing it straight back, only to be greeted by the happiest of subtle smiles on Temari’s face.

“Did I tell you about the woman who tried to sleep with me?”

Temari almost choked on the smoke she inhaled. “Wow, that sounds like a corny movie line. I’m sure many have.”

“Har, har.” He snatched his cigarette. “Three therapists ago I had a woman, like you but much weirder and she spent half of our sessions flirting with me instead of helping.”

“And why has this moment reminded you of that, exactly?” She had to try not to giggle at his description of time passing in terms of therapists.

He shrugged. “I guess just ’cause you’re an attractive woman.” His tone was as callous as it could be and, in his heart of hearts, he prayed she’d see through to his true intentions.

Instead she shook her head, laughing. “I mean, that’s awful, and I can promise you right now I will not be doing that.”

“I didn’t think so.”

He took a drag and passed it back.

But she is beautiful…

She took a drag and passed it back.

He’s just so handsome…

He closed his eyes and turned, passing it straight to her. “You finish it,” he insisted.

I should go. But I don’t want to leave her here…

“No, it’s yours,” Temari argued, holding it between them.

If I finish it, and he’s finished talking, I have no reason to stay…

“Seriously,” he mumbled, edging closer by a couple of shuffling steps. “It’s yours, Tem.”

I’m yours, Tem…

Slowly, she put it to her lips, smirking. “So you’re okay?”

Shikamaru shrugged. “Well, if by that you mean—”

“I mean other than the general misery that sometimes comes with being depressed,” she butted in with a smile. “Other than that are you okay?”

Warmly he smiled. “I suppose so. I don’t know how you do it though.”

“Do what?”

He averted his eyes, scuffing his boots against the floor. “Well, I dunno. It’s a drag but you always calm me down somehow. I felt so...” A gentle chuckle fluttered from his lips. “I guess, really het up—really on edge, you know. But when I saw you and we started talking to you, I faded away a bit.”

“Met me as in first met me or today?”

“Both.”

Temari couldn’t stop herself smiling. “You’re very sweet underneath everything.”

“Um!” he replied, offended as his head shot up. “The fuck do you mean ‘underneath everything’?”

“Oh shut up,” she giggled, reaching out and gently placing her hand on his shoulder. “You know what I mean.”

Shikamaru shook his head, eyes fixed on hers. “You’re a bitch.”

“I’m not.”

“No, you’re right,” he admitted, grinning into his scarf, hidden from her. “You’re not.”

Shikamaru slowly reached up and placed his hand on Temari’s atop his shoulder, pursing his lips. Even through her gloves he could feel the warmth of her hands, and he rubbed the back of her fingertips gently with his thumb. The moment wouldn’t last long, he knew that, and so he had to cherish it; this ability to look into her eyes and her look right back, her smile at him humorously without a trace of pity, all while her hand was beneath his, tucked in tight.

Finally, Temari wriggled her hand free, blushing—or at least he thought she was. It was probably just the cold. She shot him a gentle smile and stepped back, taking one final drag from the cigarette in her hand. “Shall I, um,” she faltered. “Shall I try and book you in some time this week? So we can talk before next Monday?”

“Yes.” He nodded a little too enthusiastically. “I’d, um, appreciate that.”

“I’ll text you if I can get it changed, okay? I’ll tell the receptionist to try at your parents request.”

He smiled. “Thank you.”

“I’ll, um…” Temari pointed at the gate they came through. “I’ll go.”

“If you need to,” he mumbled.

“Huh?”

Shikamaru shoved his hands in his pockets, shaking his head slowly. “Don’t worry, Tem.” He gave her a somewhat wounded look, worried she felt as awkward as he thought she did. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Definitely.”  Waving, she spun around and paced toward the park entrance, and as he watched her walk away, her ponytail swishing violently, he started to slowly shuffle backwards. His body was doing all it could to stop him—to run after her and grab her hand and ask her to stay—but he could just about control his feet to move the other way, despite the reaching of hi stomach. He refused to turn around, praying that somehow, before she made it to the gate, she would turn around and come back. Still, he noticed his wishful thinking.

While she wasn’t running back, Temari did turn her head and smile at him, raising her hand slowly in a wave. By default, he raised his back, grinning in her general direction, even past the moment she span around and walked away. Fishing out of his pocket another smoke and his phone, he opened it up and began to type a message.

‘Thank you for that, Tem. I needed that. Do you maybe want to go for coffee next—’

For a second, he stopped, letting out a deep breath so warm to the cold air it rivalled his smoke clouds. Who was he kidding? He couldn’t ask her something like that! Not now, not ever.

So, with a heavy heart Shikamaru held down the backspace key and shuffled toward the other end of the park slowly. Maybe one day she’d realise, but he couldn’t hold out hope for that—her job was to help him, and he had no doubt that she would, but it didn’t make it any kinder on his heart that he couldn’t help her with her woes, too.

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allhailthe-demonking · 6 years

Text

The Assassin AU Nobody Asked For - Stucky feat. Fucking Genius Tony Stark

Hey Look! It’s more not-wrestling fic!

Based on an AU RP that I took part in with @resistanceposterboy, and heavily influenced by alcohol. It’s all pretty old, but I put it together and want to get it out into the world so it can get out of my head, and out of my Notes.

Teeny tiny bit nsfw. A little bit sad sometimes. A lot snarky anytime Tony Stark is involved.

James isn’t too sure about much of his upbringing.

Before New York, and the Starks, and growing up under his Ma’s gentle instruction, there wasn’t anything he considers remarkable enough to consider remembering, that is, assuming it was ever in his control.

The first thing James can clearly remember, more than fragmented feelings and impressions, is fire.

He knows he was strapped to a table, thick metal and leather keeping him prone to slowly heating, blisteringly hot steel. He knows that he wasn’t uncomfortable in the position, scared of the bindings. Those felt. Normal. Ordinary.

But the flames, creeping higher and higher up the walls, trigger something unfamiliar in his gut, something that makes him breathe too heavy in the smoke filled room. His heart rate accelerates, he can hear it on the monitor he’s still hooked up to. He’s never felt this before, not that he can recall, and he tries to look to the left and right, head restrained in place, but in his peripheral there is no one.

No one.

The men and women he has looked to, counted on for instruction are nowhere that he can see. He cannot hear them. Just the crackling of fire, groaning of metal and wood as it begins to bend and break around him. He watches beams collapse. He watches flames grow and reach over closer, beginning to lick at the edges of his table. He watches the very ceiling above him give way, no longer able to maintain its well-constructed purpose, beginning to fall down, scattered, around him.

They never reach him.

Metal, rich red and gold, shields him. A voice, sounding frantic, speaking words he cannot understand through tinny speakers. Male, post pubescent. A mild tenor. Incessant. Likely between the ages of eighteen and twenty-five. Speaks to him, clearly not expecting a reply as it leaves him no room to speak.

It would be difficult anyway. The rubber guard is still between his teeth.

Metal appendages tear away restraints, offers him a hand. Ten seconds of blissful silence as he waits. He doesn’t take it. Off to the left, one of the remaining beams falls in a loud crack, snapping and popping as the flames spread through the wood. There’s the voice again, pitched higher, words coming faster. Possibly repeated? His hand shakes, held out, fingers spread. Take it.

He swallows hard, reaching out for it tentatively. He finds himself scooped up in metal arms, and then they’re flying. Wind, fire bright and hot, brushes his face, his arms, his whole bare body as he’s taken away from the destroyed remnants of the only home he’s ever known.

He tries not to be sentimental.

The voice continues to talk (of course it does; he isn’t surprised by this when he recalls this night years later), but his voice seems calm now, almost soothing. He’s uncomfortable in the man’s (machine’s?) arms, but he does nothing to situate himself better, only clings harder as they fly. He might not know much, but he knows he’s only alive because…

Of what? A whim? He doesn’t know how the fire started, doesn’t recall screaming or an evacuation. Just that one moment he was aware, and with that awareness came cloying fear. He suspects the robotic suit has much to do with the series of events, but his superiors aren’t the ones taking him from a certain death, even if he doesn’t know where they’re going. At least he isn’t going to burn alive tonight. Probably.

They touch down in the woods some kilometers away, outside of a small, unkempt cabin. There’s snow beneath his bare feet, a gentle but icy wind reminding him of his nudity, but he doesn’t much notice the cold. They make their way inside, and he ends up wrapped up in a thick blanket in front of a (small, contained) fire.

The suited man sits near (too close) in a chair. The faceplate of the suit slides away after a few minutes, and a worried face finally is revealed, concern etched in dark eyes. He speaks again, and really, he doesn’t have the time to wait for him to figure out if he’ll ever stop, and his voice, choked and raspy from smoke, cuts him off.

“остановить.”

Dark eyes blink. Confused. He’s pretty sure he swears. He points to himself, enunciates slowly. “Tony.”

He gives a small nod of understanding. Tony is the, what? Rescuer? He remains quiet.

Tony’s head bobbles, leaning slightly forward, hands waving in small circles in front of him. He says something, syllables lingering, before pointing to himself again and repeating, “Tony.”

He rolls his eyes. “Da, Tony.” He gets it.

Tony makes a noise, and he’s pretty sure he’s annoyed. He narrows his eyes, shoulders squaring. He points at himself again, repeating his name, before pointing to him.

Oh. He swallows and looks away. “солдат.” Soldat. He hopes it’s sufficient.

Tony nods, looking pleased. He offers a small smile and another blanket before stepping away, mask sliding back into place, and he starts speaking again, sometimes allowing pauses. He’s having a conversation of some sort. He hopes it’s to get them someplace warm. Maybe with a cot where he can sleep.

He and Tony don’t sleep, he is less than pleased to share, but he does get clothes, too big but warm and comfortable. They can do little to communicate, but they find a chess board and play several games, until the sun starts to shine through the windows. They’re evenly matched, he finds with a surprised smile. Each pawn or piece he takes makes him grin, wide and feral, Tony’s annoyed sighs only making his victory that much more rewarding.

(with the morning comes a chopper, and James eyes it with unease. Tony gives him a small smile and a pat on the shoulder before passing him a small steel chain that holds tags. James blinks down at them, eyebrows furrowed. The name pressed into the metal doesn’t sound familiar, but the numbers below it, he knows well. He makes a small sound, gripping them tight. Tony pats his shoulder softly, standing just in front of him as a man, older but with the same dark eyes and hair, the same deeply tanned skin, emerges from the aircraft. They speak a few words before Tony smiles, squeezing his shoulder, pulling him forward. He points at the man and says two words. “Dad, Howard.” He looks back to the man, Dad Howard, and his voice takes on a softer tone. “James.”)

остановить -ostanovit - Stop (it) солдат - soldat - Soldier

–

James likes to consider himself a pretty put together guy.

Sure, his day job is a little less ordinary and a lot more lucrative than most, but he’s good at it, and likes to think he makes the world a little bit better with each trip he makes overseas. He certainly makes it safer, what with getting major players in the drug trade, human trafficking, and weaponry crossed off like it’s a game of chess. He takes good care of his family, what’s left of it.

So yea, James would say he’s got himself together, making a decent enough life for himself.

But for some reason, the second you get cute, muscular and blonde in front of him, he can’t quite figure out what’s going on. His mouth doesn’t work, he can’t catch his breath. His knees buckle. He doesn’t get it.

He’s never been a casanova, certainly not to the degree of Tony, but he can string together enough words to ask an attractive man or women out for dinner.

Unless they have blue-green eyes like a harbor after a storm, a shoulder-to-waist ratio that defies the very laws of physics, and a smile that curls slow and honest. Then, it seems, the only thing James can do it trip and stutter and pine hopelessly.

He’d worry about Tony catching on to his sudden interest in small-batch, hand roasted coffees, but he can barely see past his own tall, blonde temptress, fully capable of reigning him in with a few clipped words and raised, well-manicured eyebrow. Pepper, however, notices, because she can keep Tony on task with a few well placed words in a way that is truly an art form, and isn’t nearly as distractible as anyone else that has ever been put to the task.

James is impressed.

James should know that he can’t hide anything from Tony.

His big brother, always projectile vomiting an endless litany of me me mememe, makes it easy to forget that he’s actually pretty perceptive and, he’ll never admit it out loud, smart. For every never-ending conversation about his work, his life, his girlfriend, himself, where James inevitably considers turning his rifle on himself, there’s a counterpoint: Tony making sure his little brother is fed and hydrated after a long day of incessant meetings, Tony blowing off signing a new contract which ends up shutting down half of New York because the workers can’t work without their negotiated benefits and pay raises just to take him to Coney Island to gorge on funnel cake. Tony making googly eyes at James over coffee when tall, hot, and blonde enters the coffee shop an hour before he usually arrives. Not that James knows that offhand.

It’s a habit for him to know usual activity of places he considers safe.

He doesn’t know the information because he actively looks for him.

He certainly didn’t invite Tony to the cafe thinking it was safe to get him caffeinated and gone with enough time to peruse some new weapons tech online before he would normally show up.

So when Tony catches sight of his dear and most favorite little brother (“I’m your only little brother.” “That’s what we told you so you didn’t think we’d send you back to your third world burning warehouse like we did with Jacob. Man, Jacob was cool. He’d have let me have half of his pastry.”) choking on his overly sweet and creamy coffee as the door’s overhead tinkling bell chimes announcing a new arrival, and then he catches sight of the guy (he doesn’t have to admit he makes him briefly wonder how mad Pepper would be if he had a little pre-extra-marital with him), he knows why his little brother spends so much time working outside of his office anymore.

“Ooohhhh ho ho ho!” Tony is practically shaking with caffeine and excitement.

“Oh fuck, Tony, no.” James hides red cheeks behind his mug, wishing he’d gotten the large today.

“Tony, yes!” he exclaims in a stage whisper. He watches the girl at the counter refuse Hot, Muscular, and Blonde’s payment, grinning as she points to James, trying desperately to disappear behind his drink.

Hot, Muscular, and Blonde gives James a gracious nod and a cute little smile, trying to ignore the way Tony literally vibrates with happiness.

“Bucky!” Tony laughs, eyes wide and almost manic. “What’s his name, and why isn’t he coming over here? Is it me? Should I go? Should I go get him?”

James groans and puts his cup down, not trying to try to corral his brother into quiet and reserved, knowing its futile. “I don’t know. I just…I buy him coffee. Don’t go- for fuck’s sake, Tony, stop staring!” he says, voice a little too loud. He gently drops his head to the cool, forgiving wood of the table when his crush looks over. “Can you send me back to Russia now? I don’t want this to be my life.”

Hot, Muscular, and Blonde, for his part, looks endlessly amused, even if his cheeks are a little pink, too.

“No fuckin’ way. Nope. Sorry. Excuse me? I’m so sorry, Hotty with a Body? Yes, sir, you. I’m Tony! Hi, yea, that’s right, Tony Stark, it’s nice to shout across the room with you. What’s your name? I’m sorry, my brother, Bucky, here should just really know what your name is if he’s going to singlehandedly keep this place running with the amount of coffee he’s prepaid for you.”

James wants to cry and hide and maybe run away. Burning warehouses in Russia sound incredible right now.

“Steve,” comes the soft reply, sounding smug and maybe slightly embarrassed. James doesn’t blame him. Tony has that effect. “Thank you for the coffee, Bucky, was it? It’s very nice to meet you.”

“‘Very nice to meet you.’ Buck, you hear that? He practically doesn’t hate you. Go say hi. I’ll wait here.” Tony takes a noisy slurp of his coffee, watching his brother expectantly.

James groans quietly, contemplating how his life went downhill so quickly.

Tony kicks him under the table, loudly whispering for him to remember his manners.

“Hi…Steve. It’s umm…hi. Please don’t mind him. Dad didn’t love him, and Ma tried to drop him on his head, but she gave up when it only made him more obnoxious.” He peeks up shyly.

Tony kicks him again, smiling serenely in Steve’s direction.

Steve laughs, bright and happy. “He does seem insistent. What do you think, you wanna join me? You think that’ll calm him down?”

James is too dumbstruck to avoid Tony’s next kick. “I. I-umm. History says no.” He yelps at the next kick. “I wasn’t finish-I mean. I’m willing to try, if it’s not a bother.”

“For science,” Tony agrees sweetly, like he isn’t the very bane of James’s existence.

James resolutely does not plan on Tony’s murder, settling for a very unsubtle shove as he breezes past, towards Steve’s table. He sits down across from him, cheeks still burning, his head ducked shyly. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Steve returns, shoulders shaking with the effort not to laugh.

“I’m really sorry about him, I can’t say it enough,” Bucky says quietly. “He doesn’t have a filter. Or know when to stop. Or how to behave in public. He’s very difficult.”

“He clearly loves you,” Steve says, sipping his coffee. “I mean, you’ve been buying my coffee for nearly a year now, and still haven’t had the nerve to come ask me out. I don’t think I would have said no, even before the first time.”

James nearly chokes on his own tongue,

Tony hoots with laughter.

“You gonna ask me to dinner, or are we going to have our first date chaperoned by the CEO of the largest weapons and technology company in the country?”

–

Bucky almost never thinks about the fact that he doesn’t truly have an identity.

It’s never really mattered to him: he was a soldier and a weapon, and then he was a Stark, briefly, before he’d kissed a porcelain cheek and requested to be a Barnes instead. He’d been shy, back then. Unsure he wasn’t stepping on toes or spitting in faces.

But he’s never really had a name, or he did but it wasn’t important enough to know. He definitely had a serial number.

He doesn’t let these things weigh on his mind. They don’t matter in the grand scheme of things. And he probably hasn’t thought about the topic in years before Steve asks him about it, voice quiet and soft, a curious little smile on his lips when he leans in close to ask, “So…how old are you? When’s your birthday?”

Bucky stutters, visibly shaken. They’d been trading questions over decadent bites of rich, dark chocolate creme brulee that he’d told Steve was his favorite thing in all five boroughs. Before he can answer, Steve laughs, all low and dark. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to break out the deep questions,” he teases lightly.

Bucky flushes, head ducking. “No! I’m sorry. I’ve never really celebrated it,” he demurs. “My brother celebrates enough for the both of us, believe me.” He knows he’s potentially ruined the spell that they’ve been under, dimly lit corner booth in a quiet restaurant, just him and Steve, finally. “I was adopted, actually. But my ma always made me my favorite meal on March tenth; that was the day they brought me home.”

He ends on a high note. Good news. Hopes Steve isn’t completely weirded out. He glances at him shyly, blush high on his cheeks.

Steve just smiles, all fond and soft, and god Bucky would do anything to see that smile every day for the rest of his life. “That’s really cute, though,” he says, gently knocking their shoulders together. “Guess I’ll have to play nice long enough to get myself invited to dinner.”

Bucky snorts, gently biting his lower lip. “I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” he tells Steve like its a big secret, pouty lips breaking into a grin.

Steve’s laughter is like the best drugs in all the world, lighting him up, making him want more.

“I should warn you though, golubtsy tends to be off-putting to most. Doesn’t exactly smell the best, but it tastes like what I think home should,” he says, fond and happy. “And I’m not as good a cook as my ma was, but I promise my chak-chak more than makes up for it.”

Steve gets even closer to him in their little booth, Bucky’s hands gesturing as he describes making the little balls of dough and their perfect honeyed glaze. He stutters, barely able to breathe when Steve’s fingers clasp with his, tangling together to settle against their thighs.

He doesn’t know how he got in this position. He’s got no clue how he ended up with six-foot-something, golden blonde, and gorgeous, a thick, warm weight against his side, hanging on to his every word. (He’s resolutely not going to thank Tony.)

He’s flabbergasted, and they’re pressed so close that he barely has to move, head just slightly tilting and their lips are pressed together, warm and chaste.

When they break apart, there’s a slick sound that sounds nearly pornographic to his ears, and he can’t help the embarrassed giggle as he presses his face to Steve’s shoulder to hide.

He can feel Steve pressing his cheek to his hair, a soft kiss right to his crown, and he’s pretty sure he’s going to make an(other) embarrassing sound pretty soon if he keeps it up.

“Took you long enough,” Steve murmurs, voice so dark to be so playful. “Here I thought I was going to have to keep on wondering what I had to do to get a kiss. I’m glad it was’t as long as I had to wait for a date.”

Bucky flounders for a moment before pressing another quick peck of a kiss to Steve’s lips. “You coulda maybe asked me?” he suggests. “Saved me eight months of torture.”

Steve just shrugs, looking far too innocent for the trouble Bucky just knows is hiding. “Yea, but it was way more fun watching you stutter and stumble all over yourself. You spilled cream all over that nice prada suit once, don’t think I didn’t notice. Right down your inner thighs.” He licks his lips at that, eyes slowly raking down Bucky’s body. “That one may have been a little…inspiring.”

Bucky shivers. Swallows hard. Blinks slowly. Gathers himself.

“Wanna tell me what I inspired? An artist like you, I bet it was quite the piece of work. Or maybe you could show me?”

–

Bucky wants to say that he has decent self control.

Objectively, he does. He knows how to prioritize, get things completed efficiently. He can keep his emotions in check quite well, doesn’t let them get in the way of getting a job done. And Bucky? He’s very good at his job.

So the fact that he finds himself on his knees, hidden under a table, pressed tight between Steve’s legs on their first date takes him a bit by surprise. Steve, too, if the hand in his hair, pulling tugging pressing, is anything to go by. He doesn’t seem to mind, though, not too much at all.

Bucky can’t help but grin a little, even if Steve can’t see it. He laps at the pretty pink head of his cock, kitten licks against the slit, wanting him to feel it. The hand in his hair squeezes, thighs rigid under his hands. He sighs happily, leaning forward to wrap his lips around him, suckling him lightly.

Self control or not, Bucky loves sucking cock.

He takes his time and teases Steve, wanting him to know how good he is, wanting to get to do this again and soon. Bucky and Steve, they might be a sure thing right now, but they might not be a sure thing tomorrow, and who knows about next week. He wants to make the best impression he can, wants Steve’s cock stuffed down his throat, wants Steve to feel like he’s dying every second Bucky isn’t licking and sucking and swallowing.

Bucky learns pretty quick. He reads Steve like he reads his targets, figures out pretty quick that wet hot suction will keep him on edge, a gentle scrape of his teeth to his frenulum will make his hips buck up quick and sharp, and the tight hug of his tonsils around his flared head will make him come with a sharp gasp and a hard tug to his hair.

Bucky is damn good at what he does, and thorough, too.

He nuzzles Steve’s soft cock, mouths against his fuzzy thighs, the warm weight of his balls, the soft heft of him, wet with come and spit. He purrs softly, letting Steve come down, waiting until there’s a soft tug on his hair that tells him it’s safe to come back up.

When he does, he’s met with plush red lips and an inquisitive tongue. The kiss is soft, and Bucky didn’t know until just then that kisses could be thankful, could promise the world, but he does now, and it’s the best feeling in the world, he wants to wrap himself up in it.

Steve grins against his lips, pulling away just a little, and his eyes are the best kind of unfocused Bucky’s ever seen.

–

Tony is a fucking genius. He’s a lot of things, really, most of them great, but somedays he wakes up and just knows it.

This is one of those days.

Of course, he hadn’t woken up that way. It had taken half a pot of coffee, exaggerated wiggling fingers being waved in Jane and Darcy’s general direction as they taped together some sort of contraption in the lab (really? tape? Why don’t we solder the metal pieces like big kids?), grabbing Banner’s ass and winking at the secretary he was chatting up, and one huge eclair for him to get him to that point. But he got there, he was a fucking genius, and he had a plan to put into action.

He wheels his comfy leather office chair down the hall, propelling himself with his Iron Man boots as he smiles and waves at the people he passes, the whole way to Bucky’s office on the opposite corner. (Pepper doesn’t look up as he rolls on by, effectively ignoring him as she speaks to the investor across her desk with a tight-lipped smile.) He bowls through Bucky’s door, sunglasses perfectly in place, giving him his best smile that he saves only for his favorite people.

“Bucky, I am a-“

“-fucking genius,” they finish together. Bucky’s voice doesn’t hold half the enthusiasm Tony was hoping for, but he’s used to being under-appreciated.

“I am, it’s true, you could thank me now, but I see you wore the extra big butt plug this morning.” Tony wiggles his eyebrows and crosses a leg, comfortable.

Bucky sighs, barely looking up from the folder in front of him. He murmurs softly in a language Tony doesn’t care to identify, clearly a goodbye and maybe an apology, before hitting the button on his desk phone to end his call.

“Okay. What this time?” Bucky asks, settling back into his own, but far less cozy, chair. “You figure out energy independence yet, or just how to peel an orange without getting zest under your nails?”

Tony scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Working on the energy thing. The orange one was easy. I have someone else peel it, obviously. I meant you! And Steve!” He ignores Bucky’s groan. “You don’t want to make it official or whatever when you’re still going out and shooting people and getting shot at. I get it. He doesn’t get why you’re such a fidgety guy that won’t put a ring on it. And I, hi, yes, me Tony Stark, you’re welcome, am a fucking genius and have the solution.”

He wants to gloat at the slow rise of Bucky’s head, eyes going from bored to pin-point focused. Instead, he strokes his goatee, feet swaying happily. And he waits, sweet and quiet.

Bucky is visibly fighting himself. Tony loves every second.

“Okay. So you have a fucking genius solution?” He eventually prompts.

Tony nearly explodes with his righteous genius, arms spreading out as he whoops with his happiness. “Yes! How about, now hear me out because it’s sort of obvious, but you haven’t put it together yet, so we’re going way back to square one with this.” He pauses for dramatic effect. “Tell him what it is you do. Boom. Problem solved. You’re welcome. Fucking genius, right?!”

Tony, for his part, doesn’t mind the deafening silence that follows. He’s used to it, if he’s honest. But the way Bucky deflates, his muscle and bulk falling in on himself, threatens to break Tony’s heart.

“It’s just not that easy-“

“Says who?” Tony quips, defensive. “Why can’t it be?”

“Not everyone is lovable Tony Stark, and not everyone can be forgiven all their sins,” Bucky tells him quietly, eyes down on the desk, refusing to look up.

“No, some people are lovable, emo little brothers of lovable Tony Stark.” Bucky glares. “Some people have more life experience in their little fingers than Tony Stark,” he goes on, wiggling to inch his chair forward. “Some people clearly don’t know the best thing that ever walked into their lives, which is not Tony Stark because Tony Stark is a genius, is honest with them, and then gives it all up for them-“

Bucky growls, eyes flashing, and Tony quiets.

“What are you so afraid of?” he asks Bucky, voice soft, genuinely concerned.

All he gets for an answer is Bucky pushing violently from his desk and slamming the door as he walks out.

–

#stucky #assassin au #untitled project #bucky/steve #brief smut #the assassin au nobody asked for #tony stark is a fucking genius

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dontshootmespence · 7 years

Text

Keep Him Close

A/N: An Alex Blake piece featuring James and Ethan before he was diagnosed. Ethan is a big fan of chess. Who else in Alex’s future is has a love for chess? Also, I’m just going to pretend that what happens to Ethan in the show doesn’t happen because my heart needs some fluff today. My first Alex piece. I hope you like it.

----

“James! Ethan! Are you ready to go!” Alex called up the mahogany staircase. Her husband and 6-year-old son were the loves of her life and also the reasons she was always late to anything - even if they didn’t have to be anywhere by a particular time.

Today, they were supposed to go for a walk in the park and James had woken up late, having been recovering from another round with Doctors Without Borders, and Ethan had been too busy reading a book to get up and get dressed. And as a linguist, Alex could never find it in herself to stop Ethan from reading, but finally he was done and both were nearly ready to go. “Hurry up! Mom needs coffee!”

James picked up Ethan and put him on his shoulders. “We’ve gotta go little man. When Mom needs coffee we shouldn’t stand in her way.”

“Yea, she gets cranky,” Ethan laughed, giggling when his mother lovingly cut her eyes at him.

After a stop at the nearby cafe for a cup of coffee for mom and dad, an apple juice for Ethan, and a giant blueberry muffin to split between the three of them, they made their way to the park. The minute the stepped within sight of the swings Ethan was off and running toward them. For the most part, Ethan was an introverted boy, but when Alex and James could get him in the park, they loved to watch him run around without a care in the world. He was getting so big already, but it was a joy to see him still being a carefree child.

While Ethan grabbed a swing and started kicking his legs back and forth, James and Alex sat at a nearby picnic table. The sun was out and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Temperature-wise it was perfect. Just cool enough for a sweater but not much more. They still had their coffees that they sipped at periodically and best of all, they had time to talk after being apart for so long.

Alex taught at American University in the linguistics department. It allowed her to teach at the times that were most convenient for her and Ethan, but James’ job was much more difficult. He’d be away for months at a time with Doctors Without Borders. Then he would be home for a while, so when he was, they took advantage of it and spent was much time together as possible. “I’ve missed you,” James said, reaching across the table and resting his hand on hers, their rings rubbing up against each other.

“I’ve missed you, too,” she smiled. She squeezed his hand and got up to sit in front of him on his side of the table, leaning back into his chest and watching as their son ran around the playground, occasionally even introducing himself to other children, which he rarely did. His wavy brown hair floated in the breeze as he ran around, getting into his eyes more often than Alex would’ve liked. She had the overwhelming urge to cut it, but she’d asked Ethan if it bothered him and it didn’t; he liked his hair the way it was. With a deep, contented sigh, she tipped her head upward and kissed James on the chin, taking another sip of coffee before watching Ethan jump off the swing. She had a mini heart attack when he fell to the floor, but like many six-year-olds do, he popped right back up and ran toward the swings again.

Ethan did the same thing over and over again, with just as much exuberance as the first time, for nearly an hour until he caught sight of some adults congregating by the chess tables about 100 feet away. “Mom!” He called. “Can I go over there?”

She had been teaching him chess lately, so of course she encourage him to go and check it out. At first, both she and James assumed he would want to go over and observe some of the other players, but by the time they had walked up to the table where Ethan was sitting across from an older man, he was starting a game. Hopefully, the man would understand that Ethan was a beginner and would go a little easier on him. “What’s your name young man?” he asked. He had kind eyes and short brown hair, but it seemed like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“My name is Ethan,” her son said proudly. “My mommy is teaching me how to play chess and I think I’m really good.”

He definitely was, Alex thought to herself, especially for a six year old. “Well, it’s nice to meet you Ethan. I have a son a little older than you. You remind me of him.”

“Is he here today?” Ethan asked.

“No,” the man said sadly. “I haven’t seen him in a while. I disappointed him. But he likes chess too, so when I play, I feel a little bit closer to him. Ready to play?”

Ethan nodded his head and began the game, while Alex and James looked on in awe. He seemed to be holding his own against the older man. “I think he’s going to be smarter than the both of us combined,” James whispered in Alex’s ear. She nodded and said nothing; it was obvious Ethan was way smarter than his age would suggest; she relished the opportunity to watch him grow.

As the game neared its end, both Ethan and the older gentleman seemed fairly evenly matched. Alex had underestimated her son’s skill at the game - something she promised herself she’d never do again as it seemed he would always exceed expectation. “Checkmate!” Ethan smiled.

“Checkmate it is.” The man smiled at Ethan and then glanced over at Alex and James. “You have a very intelligent son,” he said.

“Thank you.” Both spoke simultaneously as they got up from their seats and ruffled Ethan’s hair. “We’re pretty proud of him.”

“Keep him close,” he said, his voice tinged with sadness and regret. As he got up from the table, he extended his hand toward Ethan. “And you, young man. Keep up the amazing work. I haven’t been able to say I’m proud of my son lately, so I’ll tell you I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you, mister,” Ethan said as he blushed.

After nearly four and a half hours in the park, the happy family started to make their way home. Ethan was still on a little bit of high after winning the chess match against the older man. James and Alex on the other hand kept his words closely in the back of their minds. For some unknown reason, this man had made mistakes in his life and lost contact with a son he loved. Keep him close. It wasn’t like they ever intended to do anything else, but hearing him speak with such sadness made them both realize how lucky they were, despite the time apart. Through it all, they’d keep each other close.

@coveofmemories @sexualemobitch @jamiemelyn @unstoppableangel8 @iammostdefinitelyonfire26 @teatimewithtiya @marvelfanlife @amarislestrange @obsessed5sosfreak @sonhadoraativa @1enchantedfantasy1 @ace-and-rosey @ssamango @twelveyearoldchildprodigy @offbrandcursewords @entelechysymphony @milkandcookies528 @pugs-cats-bb-8 @davidr0ssi

#alex blake #alex blake fanfictions #alex blake fic #dontshootmespence #keep him close

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eyesopen2019 · 4 years

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Beijing and the onset of Golden Week

We are experts at packing up and getting out the door for train/bus/plane rides now. We can do it in under an hour if we have to, but prefer at least an hour or so. Our routine is that I pack up Leon and Lani’s bags with them and they pack their small backpacks with their nicknacks, Kai collects all his belongings together and I help him fit it in his bag (I usually have to put all the spare items in his bag as he has the most extra space), Aiden and Hung do their own and then I do mine. Hung usually tidies up the apartment and gives everyone chores to do. It was stressful in the beginning, but we are definitely getting better at making it a seamless process.

We left our apartment in Xian early on Sept 19th, minus Aiden, and made it to the northern Beijing train station with plenty of time to spare for our 9.15am train. I went in search of coffee and came back to where Hung was waiting to find him pacing as they had been calling our train. We lined up to go through security along with 100’s of other people. It was a very slow process with everyone going through 2 scanners. People around us were becoming more and more panicked about getting through and everyone started pushing to get to front of the line. Luckily, we were towards the front and got through before the masses pushed. It was still very stressful with everyone pushing and shoving each other. Lani burst into tears as she got separated from the rest of us a few steps behind. It must be scary to be her height and in a crowd of pushing strangers. We made it through security after losing our scissors and deodorants to the guards but needed to run to get onboard the train and only just sat down as it left the station. Once onboard the 4.5hr journey was comfortable and we’d come prepared with our own snacks and drinks unlike last time. The train travels at 300km an hour for most of the way and is a very smooth ride. We arrived in Beijing just after lunch and made our way to our apartment by the metro. It was a bit tricky to find as it was in a residential area of the city. We eventually found it after a few messages to our host. Kai was our navigator for the 1.3km walk from the metro and he is very good at getting us where we need to go. This used to be Aiden’s job when he was travelling with us and he also did a great job – although he walked very fast with his long legs and we sometimes struggled to keep up!

Our first night we went out for a hotpot dinner and we all enjoyed it. The kids all loved cooking their own food, especially the meat, as well as concocting their own dipping sauces and were all very full by the end. We wandered back to our unit for a fairly early night after a long day.

The following day, Hung and I went out with Leon and Lani firstly to Wangfujing Street which is a massive pedestrian shopping street lined with huge malls and expensive shops. It was not really what we were interested in and we went down a sidestreet and found a dumpling restaurant which the kids enjoyed. We then got a bus to Nanluogu Xiang which is one of the most famous Hutongs (and near to where Mum, Kai and I stayed on our previous trip a couple of years ago). A hutong is a street or alley bounded on both sides by old buildings in courtyard compounds. It is how most ‘common’ Beijiners live now and how they did in the past. Leon and Lani enjoyed trying many different snacks and drinks while checking out the souvenir shops. Towards the end of the street I found an old house converted to a bar and we sat for a while for a drink while the kids played UNO. Kai had resting day and spent part of the day researching the sections of the Great Wall which are accessible from Beijing and deciding which one we should see. He also researched Tieneman Square and the history behind it.

On our second day in Beijing we all visited the Art Zone which is a collection of galleries, shops and cafes in an area of decommissioned communist factories outside the city. It was interesting to see a different side of Beijing than the temples, monuments and historical buildings. After lunch we made our way back to the area near Tieneman Square by bus as we wanted to go the one of the nearby parks. We found the whole area being shut down by thousands of police and army personnel. Our bus drove straight past Tieneman square and we saw it all set up for the military parade planned for the upcoming National holiday of Golden Week which was interesting to see including the massive grandstands and the giant picture of Chairman Mao. The bus didn’t stop and allow us to get off and we found ourselves stuck in the restricted zone. Many of the roads and pathways were blocked and the buses no longer running. We had to walk for several km’s along the allowed paths to get ourselves outside the zone to call a car to get home. It was amazing to see how the whole area had been shut down and movement restricted and the shear number of police on the street was very impressive. The police were not very friendly and looked at us with stoney faces as we tried to navigate our way out of the area without really knowing what was going on. The kids were all fascinated by the how and why of communism, what people thought about communism and why didn’t people or other governments didn’t change it. It is just so different to the way they live, and they could really feel a small part of how people here have to live.

Luckily, we have managed to find a way around the great Chinese Firewall with a VPN and again have access to the outside world and Netflix which made us all happy. It was so frustrating not being able to look things up whenever you wanted and kept forgetting why when the ‘this site is unavailable’ message keeps popping up.

Golden Week in China is a National Holiday celebrating the founding of the People’s Republic of China. It runs from October 1st to the 7th and this year is the 70th year from the founding date. During this week most people have time off work, schools are closed and many people travel all over the country for tourism and to visit family. We planned to leave Beijing before the holiday started as the city was going to be fairly shutdown for that week and movement limited.

We decided to have a home day on Sunday (22nd) as the city was still mostly shut down to allow for military drills and practice for the parades for the Golden Week. Lani and I spent a few hours in a nearby Starbucks with her watching Netflix and me writing this blog which was very productive and relaxing. Hung was at home doing homework with Leon and having a chess tournament with Kai and Leon. Lani and I wandered through the small shopping centre where the Starbucks was, and found several floors dedicated to Chinese mums and young children doing all sorts of activities – English, ballet, piano, basketball, gymnastics, swimming lessons, Lego, cooking and art classes. There was an area where the mums could have their hair or nails done or have a facial. It reminded me of when we lived in Singapore and most of the children would be tied up in extracurricular activities for all their spare time and made me so happy that I am not part of that culture.

After the weekend the city opened up a bit, with buses back up and running and roads opened but the Forbidden City and Tieneman square were closed. We spent time wandering around different Hutong areas and sampling various restaurants, but we (except Hung) were not really keen to see temples and palaces etc. We did visit the Jingshan Park which has a 360 degree view of the city and overlooks the Forbidden City which was as close as we got to it due to road closures. We also wandered through Beihai Park which is a large park with lake very close to the Forbidden City.

We found Peking duck at a restaurant near our house and had a special meal out together, even though Hung did think it was too pricey, but sometimes you have to splash out.

While in Beijing we enjoyed several hotpots with Hung and I and Lani having a fantastic fish one right near our apartment which was quite different to the others as you pick a fish as you walk in and then it is taken and cleaned then a lady comes back and adds it, plus lots of other yummy things, into your pot and puts the lid on for 15 mins and then takes the lids off and voila – a delicious meal. It also included some bread like damper which they slapped onto the wall of the hotpot to cook.

Around the corner from our Airbnb, Lani and I stumbled across ‘The Fish Café’ which really was a cute little local café filled with gorgeous cats. We spent several afternoons there with me enjoying a coffee and Lani enjoying playing with the cats. It was like the cat café’s in Japan only better as you didn’t have to pay!

On our last day in Beijing we booked a guided tour through Airbnb with a local called Roy. He drove us out, along with his driver, to a section of the wall called Huanghuacheng Great Wall which is lesser known than other ones nearby Beijing. Kai and I had previously been to Badaling and this was a totally different non-touristy experience. Roy picked us up about 8am and we drove the 2 hours to the wall with our driver. He spent the drive talking to us about the history of the Great Wall and answering our endless questions. When we arrived to the village we climbed a dirt track which was unsigned and found a path where you can climb onto the Great Wall. The area is managed by the local villagers and I think Roy paid them a small fee to allow us access. We had an amazing day climbing onto and walking a section of the Great Wall where we were mostly alone. We were there for several hours and only saw a handful of other people. Roy gave us lots of fantastic history and information about the wall and Leon kept him busy with his questions. It was quite a challenging walk with steep steps and some more ruined sections but we all managed without too much trouble and the views were incredible. Lani was surprised to see the wall so ‘ruined’ and thought it would be not so old. Hung, after been not too interested in going to see the wall, was really pleased he had experienced it and felt it was such a peaceful place and could really imagine what it was like when it was being used to defend China from various attackers. We were both really happy we’d spent the money and had this experience together.

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