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brienneoftarth1989 · 11 months

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Yes Captain part 8

Captain Phasma x fem reader

Previous / next / series

Summary: when you were finally allowed to leave the infirmary Phasma told you that you would be staying with her for the foreseeable future.

Warnings: hospital recovery, fluff

Requests open

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You have been in hospital for the last 8 months and the whole experience was torturous. Learning how to walk again has been a frustrating experience in itself. First you had to gain strength in your legs by doing these exercises. The pain caused in the first few weeks was horrible. One leg was in pain because you had been stabbed in it and the other leg was in pain because it was completely mangled when you crashed.

Then came the standing exercises. You had to stand for a certain period of time before being allowed to sit down. At first you obviously needed support from others and the surrounding area but as time went on you relied less and less on everyone and everything. When you were finally able to stand on your own you felt like you had overcome this huge mountain.

That was when it dawned on you, learning to stand was one thing, you still needed to learn to walk and this battle was nowhere near over. Even though you had overcome this huge challenge you felt like it still wasn’t enough and that you would never get around to walking.

Throughout this time Phasma still hadn’t left your side. She stayed with you each day and night and was there through the whole process of you trying to walk. Unfortunately she normally got the receiving end of your anger and frustration of learning to walk however she never showed that it was bothering her.

You were grateful that Phasma had decided to stick around because deep down you knew that without her you wouldn’t be where you were now. You would most likely still be in your hospital bed telling yourself you couldn’t do it. Thankfully with Phasma’s motivation you were finally able to walk again.

Aside from learning to walk you also had to get back physical strength elsewhere in your body as well as trying to gain some control over your memory loss. There are still some areas that are a bit patchy but you were lucky to have gained back most of your memory.

The doctors said you were lucky that this was the only type of brain injury that occurred because considering you died twice on the table the impact that it had should have been a lot worse. You were just a lucky person.

Today was the day that you would go home, finally getting to leave the hospital. You were scared but also excited. You were scared because you obviously didn’t know how well you were going to cope on your own. You had spent the last months with someone constantly by your side whether that was Phasma or the nurses.

You didn’t know how well you were going to cope but unfortunately was going to be something that you had to overcome. Although the anxiety was there you were definitely excited to be finally leaving this place. You loved everyone that cared for you but you really were looking forward to being able to live your own life again.

You were currently sitting in your room on your own, enjoying your own company. One of your favourite members of staff had just entered your room to bring you your breakfast. “So are you excited to be going home today?” they asked you as they placed your food in front of you. “I definitely am. I am sick of this hospital food” you laughed which caused them to laugh.

“Yh I don’t really blame you there. The food isn’t the best and I’m the one that serves it” they laughed which caused you to let out a little giggle. “Well I better be getting back to work. These people definitely won’t be feeding themselves” they laughed as they made their way back to their trolley before heading down the corridor.

You happily ate your sad breakfast. You couldn’t wait to have a proper breakfast. You looked around your room and seeing it bare and back to normal made you feel a number of things. Phasma had packed your bags that she had brought in when you first arrived at the hospital. They were all piled in a corner ready to go back to your room. Well most of them were. Phasma had already started taking them back to your room as she knew you wouldn’t be able to carry any of them.

You waited around in your room for most of the morning before one of the doctors finally came round to see you so they could discharge you. While you were waiting Phasma had managed to make a number of trips before finally leaving about 10 minutes ago with the last couple of bags and she just so happened to arrive at the same time the doctor had shown up to talk to you about going home.

Phasma sat down next to you to await to see what the doctor had to say about you going home. “Ok, so upon reviewing everything you are now in a suitable position to be going home. We are going to issue you a wheelchair as well as a walking stick. This is just so if you have days where it is getting too much you have the options to use them if need be. You will need to go to physiotherapy once a week to continue to build strength in your legs as well as weekly counselling to deal with any trauma” they said as they handed over the paper for you to sign.

You quickly had a read over the paperwork that had been handed to you before signing your name at the bottom to confirm you were being discharged. With the doctor happy with everything he turned to you one final time to ask you one last question. “So, who will you be staying with for the next few months?”

You gave him a look of confusion before answering. “What do you mean? I thought I would be going to be living in my quarters” you said to the doctor. The doctor looked at you before looking at Phasma. “I did mention it to her but she must have forgotten” Phasma said to the doctor. “Tell me what!” you shouted starting to get frustrated.

“Calm down, it’s alright. Basically you are going to be staying with me for a little while. It’s just so I can make sure you are safe and with your memory the way it is at the moment at least I will be able to keep an eye on you and I know you will be safe” she said as she crouched down so she was eye level with you.

You looked at Phasma before anger took over you. “Taking care of? I’m a grown adult! I don’t need to be babied. I just need to get on with my life. I want to be able to take care of myself!” you shouted before you started crying. “I know, I know, as soon as you are able to remember things without forgetting and your physio has finished then you can go back to living in your quarters. Trust me y/n I won’t be babying you. I will just be there if you need a hand” Phasma said as she caressed your hand.

Phasma was right as much as you hated to admit it. You needed help even if it was temporary. Phasma could see you were thinking. “Look y/n, as soon as you are in a position to look after yourself without being a danger to yourself then you can go back to living by yourself in your own quarters” she said looking at you trying to read your face.

You took a deep breath before sighing. “Fine. I will stay with you Phasma but as soon as I can look after myself properly I am going back to living by myself” you said quite quickly. “That is absolutely fine y/n but just know that you will always be welcome at my place” Phasma said with a little smile on their face. You couldn’t help but smile at her, she was too cute.

“Ok, I’m ready to go then” you sighed. Phasma helped you out of bed before helping you sit down in the wheelchair. “It’s a long way to walk with your walking stick so I’m going to wheel you back to my room. From there we will work on walking further and further with your stick as time goes forward” she said smiling at you once you were sitting in your chair.

“That’s fine. I’m pretty tired anyway. I don’t feel like walking that kind of distance just yet” you said as you relaxed back in your chair as Phasma pushed you out of the hospital room. You made your way down the corridors before finally leaving the hospital behind. All you had to do now was get to Phasma’s quarters. The good thing about having the hospital on the flagship meant that you didn’t have to travel too far.

As Phasma was pushing you down the hallway to her quarters she could tell you were feeling a bit depressed. “Hold on” she said as she started running down the hallways of the flagship. You gripped the side of the wheelchair as Phasma ran quicker and quicker. You couldn’t help but laugh as she ran down the halls. Maybe staying with Phasma for a little while might not be the end of the world. Deep down you were looking forward to what these next few months may bring you.

#gwendoline christie #gwendolineuniverse #fanfics #captain phasma #captain phasma x reader #phasma x y/n #phasma x reader #star wars #stormtrooper #fwb to lovers #flagship #fluff #injuried #learning to walk #hospital #recovery #yes captain #yes captain series #brienneoftarth1989

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theunstuffedpepper · 2 years

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We bought a Big Green Egg! Technically I bought it through my brother, who got a great deal on it through his work, back in May for Father’s Day. It finally arrived to my brother’s store and he drove up to deliver it to us last weekend. If you’re not familiar, the Big Green Egg is an awesome ceramic smoker/grill, but we’ve put off buying one because they’re pricey.

I don’t get to see a whole lot of my brother, who is five years younger and lives in NJ. We aren’t very close, I think because of a combination of age difference, geography, differences in stages of life, and personality differences. We’re just very different people. That said, it was great seeing him and spending a little time together. I also got to sit and chat with his girlfriend for a while while he helped B put together the egg, which turned out to be nice. The best thing B has made on the egg so far was this incredible spatchcock Peruvian chicken with green sauce. The sauce was done by yours truly, and it was amazing, but the chicken was all him. SO GOOD.

We also took the babes for their first trip to the farm recently! It was such a cool place — a farm about a half hour from us which is free to families to walk around, see the animals, and explore. Pep is learning about farm animals and their sounds right now so it was so cool to show him the cows and pigs and horses and ducks and hear him moo and oink and neigh and quack.

I had my postpartum follow-up obgyn visit and turns out I have healed from delivery “awesomely” so I’m now cleared to go back to life as normal. I’m still going to take it easy with exercise but I’m happy to be heading toward normalcy and being able to do everything I want to do. I’ve not made the progress I’ve wanted to make as far as weight loss — still feeling very mushy after growing and birthing two (giant) boys, so this month I want to change that. Maybe I’ll even start one of those weight loss tracker calendar things that @losingitinjersey inspired me by using a while back. We shall see.

B and I have still been casually house hunting. The house I’ve talked about previously fell through and went to another buyer — probably a blessing. We looked at another one yesterday which was much less of a project and we liked it a lot. Thinking about making an offer. The real estate market is definitely cooling off from where it was even a few months ago but we shall see how it goes. Still very competitive, I’m sure.

What else? Really just surviving the summer duldroms over here. Looking forward to cooler days. Trying to keep the house relatively tidy, which is a serious challenge when you’ve got an 18 month old who LOVES throwing food. This… is not my favorite stage, food-wise. Yikes. Trying to get sleep when I can, which is honestly so much better than it was with pep at this age. Speaking of sleep, pep transitioned to his big boy bed and is no longer in a crib, and it’s been going much better than anticipated. He took to it well and it really hasn’t interfered with his sleep. Once we tuck him in he stays in bed, but enjoys the freedom of being able to get out if he drops his binky or his dear, dear bunny. So far, so good!

All is well on my end, and I hope the same for you all. Soaking up the last month of summer before the best season of the year is upon us.

#momblr #pip is 8 weeks #pep is 18 months #big green egg #08032022 #operationkay10

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larablogsstuff · 2 years

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Exercise & Nutrition Can Save Your Life

There have been countless research studies done on why exercise is crucial to both physical and mental well-being. Everyone seems to know the statistics but being able to implement this into your life when you are already overwhelmed can feel impossible or even condescending. While I am no doctor or scientist by any means, I am a college student with quite a bit of experience in navigating both anxiety and depression as a 20-something year old girl. Today I want to share what I have learned, specifically when it comes to moving your body.

There may be few things on earth harder than pulling yourself off the couch when going through something mentally draining. Not only are you a body at rest, but you are also physically drained from the emotional exhaustion. Unfortunately for humans, the only way to rid yourself of being an object at rest, is to become an object in motion. Now I’m not saying you need to get up and run a marathon, but you need to get up. However that looks for you, whether it be simply standing up and walking around the house, doing a light stretch, going for a walk, etc. Author of Atomic Habits, James Clear, says that the best way to build a habit is by getting 1% better each day. Simply put, the act of getting up and putting on exercise clothes, without even doing the act of exercising, is enough to put your brain in motion and allow for you to continuously improve.

On a molecular level, we all know the endorphin rush that comes from any kind of workout or physical activity. The next most important thing to keep in mind is that serotonin, the neurotransmitter responsible for regulating so many different things such as mood, happiness, appetite...is formed in the gut. 97% of the time. This means that the foods you eat and the nutrition you receive from it, has a direct correlation on your brain. So, when you’re sitting on the couch unable to move, aside from exercise, the best thing you can do for yourself is cook a healthy nutrient dense meal. Being a young adult in a normally stressful and transitional period of life is overwhelming alone. Add in the inability to care for yourself mentally and physically, and you have a cycle that is extremely difficult to break. Most of the people I meet my age struggle with some form of mental illness and fail to account for the two most important things they can do; focus on what you put in your body, and how much you move it. For me personally, I went from the thought of being active at all bringing me to tears, to being able to work out every day and actually look forward to it. Like anything else in life, exercise can be addicting.

Educating yourself on the various ways your body needs to be taken care of and what you can do both at the gym and in the kitchen to help yourself is extremely important. There are countless books and podcasts written on the subject, and if you are anything like me, reading about this topic is your bread and butter. A favorite podcast of mine is called Huberman Lab, hosted by Andrew Huberman, a professor of Neurobiology at Stanford University. He goes into depth about the topics I mentioned, as well as hosts interesting guests who have not only done immense research on the mind and body but also speak in an easy-to-understand way.

A piece of advice I always tell my friends when they need is, it is really hard to feel bad about a body and mind that you are actively taking care of. Putting your own health first will benefit you both physically and mentally in ways you may have never even realized before.

#mental health #anxiety awareness #nutrition #exercise #serotonin #andrew huberman

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tommyspeakycap · 3 years

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omgg write something about playing or braiding jack’s hair

oh em gee I love this !!!!! I loved his hair braid too omg

Jack had a very specific barber he liked to go to to get the same quality haircut he always got. He trusted that specific barber and his appointments were always made in advance to absolutely ensure he could get it done the way he liked by whom he liked at the right time so it never got overgrown or hard to manage. Jack was very specific about his hair and about keeping it the way he liked it to be. It was part of his image, part of him really. The Brummie boy hated when anyone else touched it. Be that joking team members giving his head a teasing push or his dad ruffling his hair each time he walks in the door, it irks the living daylights right out of him.

So it seems as though it’s Jack’s own personal nightmare now the barbers are shut with absolutely no sign of opening up for at least another month and Jack can’t seem to take one minute more of training with his hair getting all up in his eyes, dropping into his face and blowing wildly in Birmingham wind even with a headband in. It is driving him absolutely insane. It’s all he can think of in this moment.

And that is because he currently has your fingers tangled in it completely absentmindedly as he lays in between with your legs with his legs stretched out along the L section of the L shaped couch. Your eyes are fully focussed on the storyline evolving throughout an old episode of Greys Anatomy. Jack’s arms are around your torso as his head rests comfortably on your lower stomach with his eyes peacefully shut. He would usually engage in the TV with you, but the preseason after an unexpected break that had him doing less exercise than he definitely should have been doing had him absolutely shattered.

It was rare for even you to touch the locks he took so laughably serious, but it felt like the most soothing experience he’d maybe ever had to feel the gentility of your finger massaging over his scalp in the most relaxing manner he’d ever known. Even his sports massages after long matches weren’t this relaxing.

“Mmmhm, feels so good.” He murmurs, his voice ticking your stomach as he speaks against it, the sigh that leaves him making you giggle in response. “So annoyin’ in training.” He adds tiredly, but not lacking in the obvious irritation he feels towards it. Jack tends to feel a lot and often, and even seemingly small things like his hair getting in the way of his play was unimaginably irritating for him.

“I could cut it?” You suggest.

“Yeah,” he snorts, “And end up like the poor dog? I’ll pass love.”

“Aw come on! It wasn’t that bad.” You retort

“He looked like a street rat with curls, sweetheart.” He laughs, despite the disappointment he feels for your hands leaving his hair for the first time since he lay down tonight.

“Cheek.”

“Sorry baby.” He lulls, finally looking up at you for the first time, lifting his face to offer you a smile that strained him. Holding his head up like that was too much for his already tired muscles, so he’s quickly laying his head back to its resting place. You can’t think of anything else to retort with, knowing full and well the incredibly poor state of affairs that occurred in your household three weeks into Lockdown 1 after you attempted to give the dog a haircut out of pure boredom and lack of open dog grooming services. The state of affairs being Jack crawling to the bathroom on his knees and one hand with the other hand holding onto his crotch because he was trying so hard not to wet himself from laughing at the poor pup who looked so confused that his dad hadn’t been able to greet him as normal when he returned from the weekly food shop.

Jack very nearly did piss on your good cream carpet that day, so it was fair for him to not trust your barber skills either. Especially being the way he is about his hair.

“You know the old episodes make me miss Derek.” You announce after a moment of only the television speaking between the two of you.

“He the one with the hair?” Jack mumbles. You snort a laugh.

“They’ve all got hair, Jack. Go on, say it then?”

“Fine,” he huffs indignantly, “The one with the good hair.”

Your giggle makes his heart erupt into butterflies that dance through his stomach and chest just like it does every single time he gets to be lucky enough to hear it. Jack doesn’t like to admit when others have hair he likes. He prefers to live in a world where his hairstyle is simply the best, and truly he usually does. He tends to live in his own world anyway. The world where his hair is fantastic, he gets to do what he loves for a living and come home to you each and every day. That’s his world and fucking hell does he love that world.

In reality though, part of that world is that however fictional Derek Shepherd may be, his hair is fantastic and always looks rather immaculate. Something Jack can’t quite relate to at this current moment in time. “You know this episode is kinda about his hair,” you note softly, hands smoothing back over your boyfriends brown locks. He knows by the tone of your voice that you’re going to go into more detail about the episode currently playing through on Amazon Prime TV. Some people may well have been annoyed listening to their girlfriends recounting entire episodes of TV shows that they weren’t exactly inclined to watch, but Jack was not one of those men. He didn’t care what you were talking about, just the sound of you talking was enough to make him listen intently. He loved to hear you talk, and if that was the only thing that he ever got to hear for the rest of his life then he’d still be happy.

“They adopted a little girl and he hasn’t quite figured her hair out yet but everyone’s shocked ‘cause his hairs pretty good. Like you, a little. You got good hair, just haven’t learned to manage it yet eh?” You explain, weaving your fingers in and out of those stands of hair that make him hum in both understanding and enjoyment. He isn’t sure what you’re doing, but the weaving of stands, pads of your fingers dancing over his scalp carefully, softly feels like what he might imagine heaven to be. “Yeah?” He asks, “And what does he do then?” His voice is filled with genuine interest for what you were saying. It was the first time you’d ever known that in a relationship. He heard you snigger softly to yourself. “He learns from someone who knows a bit more about hair than he does.” You state pointedly, prompting him to roll his eyes even if you can’t see him.

“I’m not letting you cut my hair, (y/n). Not happening, I’m sor-“

“Alright, Jack. I bloody know! That’s not what I meant.” You grumble. Jack can immediately imagine your disgruntled pout already, with those irritated narrowed eyes and the playful scrunch of your nose. “Sorry.” Every time he sees that look on you, he moves to kiss that furrow out of your nose. It makes his heart smile each and every time he sees it. You are simultaneously the most beautiful, more adorable and hottest woman he has ever laid his eyes on. “Sorry baby,” he reiterated, “Go on.”

“I could braid it for you?”

That earns a belly laugh from him that reverberates through your body, jostling with the force of his whole body laughter. “So you will,” he bellows in breaks between the ever comedic gasping from breath after each loud laugh. “Not a chance.”

He pushes himself up to sit back on his knees, trapping your legs between his as he looks down at you with a huge grin still stretching his lips and creasing his eyes, yet they still sparkle in adoration for you. “Oh yeah?” You muse with a giggle to follow despite the firm attempt to seal it behind clenched lips. The giggle sets those dimples into your cheeks, his eyes just drinking you up as you lounge back on the huge couch there in front of him, sinking back into the pillows just like he had been sinking against you in comfort for hours only moments ago. “Yeah.” He repeats firmly, the playful jest of his words not lost on your ears as he leans forward.

With the emission of only a small, surprised yelp from you that turns the head of the dog in his bed for only a moment, Jack has grabbed your legs to tug you down so you were laying flat on your back on the L of the sofa. He leans over you, hands and strong arms keeping him above you with ease. “Realllly?” You tease, one eyebrow quirked. Jack loves it when you do that, mostly because he can’t and he finds it beautifully funny.

Your hands reach up to his face, cupping over the beard on his cheeks to bring his face down to peck his lips before letting him press back up like a simple press up over your body. This was a common occurrence between the pair of you and Jack had always loved to show off. “Not cuttin’ about with a braid in my hair baby, sorry.”

He dips down for another kiss and you break out another giggle that parts your lips from his. “You already are, bub.”

“Ya what?” He pops straight up, sitting again back on his knees. “Not falling over your face now eh?” You taunt with a cheeky grin that makes him furrow his brows. Jack removed his hands from beside you to run one after the other over the top of his hair, a weird mix of a grin and disbelief washing over his face. Your sweetheart smile warms his heart as you lay there looking up at him with tired eyes and a lazy smile, cheeks flushed and one of his old cotton shirts keeping you warm long after his body raises from yours.

“Wait there!” He yells, bounding off the couch to all but leap through the living room until he reaches the mirror in the hall just outside the door. “Babe!” He cheers through the house, appearing back in the doorway of the room. “Nah it’s kinda cool, you fuckin’ smashed that!” You sit up and turn around towards him with your hand covering your mouth in a giggle that makes him stride forward and tug your hand away so he can see that beautiful smile. He jumps back again. “And look; stays in when I move around like-”

An immediate howl of laughter breaks out of your mouth with your head tipped back in hysterics as you watch him run on the spot, jump on the spot and then shake his head around like your puppy when he had a cone on his head. You laugh so hard your laughter looses its noise, simply existing as a elongated wheeze and a sudden gasp for desperate air to aid and allow for only more laughter. “Why you laughing for?” He yells, his words split by his own laughter as he tugs you to your feet, standing taller than him when your on your feet on the couch. Jack wraps one arm around your waist and moves the other down to the bend of your knees to sweep your legs from beneath you, perching you on the edge of the back of the couch.

“It,” kiss, “is,” kiss, “perfect.” Kiss.

“Just like you, baby.” He rumbles lowly, “Perfect just like my girl. Gonna wear it to training. Keep hair out my face, remind me of you, perfect.” He just keeps talking, keeps praising you between kisses while he brings you closer and closer to him until you can wrap your legs around him. Locked in place, he takes your face in his hands.

“So you’ll let me braid it again?” You chime, eyes lighting up. Jack chuckles, thumbs smoothing over your cheeks with a kiss pressed to the tip of your nose. “Course baby. Every day.”

True to his word Jack Grealish is. Every night he comes home from his training, he’s laying on the couch letting you massage the days stresses out of his mind, letting your fingers weave the tension out of his scalp. Jack’s never let anyone take care of him so much. He’s never felt comfortable to be taken care of like this, but you are his exception. His one single exception. And every morning he sits in the floor at the foot of the bed while you sit with a leg on either side of him, fingers weaving the strands into place for the day and tighter for match days. People make comments but Jack doesn’t give even half of a shit. His hair is how he likes it; out of his face so he can concentrate on his game and it gives you more of a reason to actually be up in the morning when he leaves before the sun rises above you. That’s perfect for Jack.

Until his next haircut, the only time that footballer doesn’t have a braid through his hair is when your fingers are tangling in it while he’s between your legs for another very enjoyable reason.

#jack grealish imagines #jack grealish imagine #jack grealish x reader #england national team imagine #england national team #jack grealish #jack grealish blurb #jack grealish prompt #footballer fics

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animeomegas · 3 years

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So... another hc for little Sasuke (sorry this one became too specific, you can change it however you'd like to :)

After a rather harsh session (just cuz Itachi wanted to give that a try ) he kinda can't walk without his knees giving out the other day and while his alpha was making breakfast in bed for him and Sasuke wanted some help with his homework(or just wanted to spend time with his brother) while alpha was finally out of the room. And while Sasuke enters the room Itachi was trying to get out of the bed to check out where his alpha was, Sasuke just witnessing him collapsing and with that panic(thinking his alpha broke his big bro's legs) rushes to call mednins. And Sasuke known as a rather smart kid so mednins thinks the worst case scenarios and rushes to the house with him.

Just imagine the awkwardness when adult parties figure out what was the reason of all the panic.

(Ahh, this is the best thing ever, I love it so much, thanks for sending it in! I changed a few little bits, but I hope you still like it!)

Okay, so, Sasuke has been… annoyingly good at playing cockblock over the past month, and Itachi and his mate are a little…pent up.

But last night, Sasuke was with his team doing an overnight training exercise, and Itachi’s parents were attending a social dinner that ran late into the night.

And… well, Itachi and his mate certainly took advantage of the empty house. And all the pent up energy made both parties… kind of feral. It was a lot rougher than normal, let’s just say that.

In the morning, Itachi is predictably very sore, and his alpha offers to make breakfast in bed for them both so that Itachi can relax and recover at his own pace. Neither have anything to do today, so they could even spend the whole day in bed. (As long as Sasuke was too tired from his trip to protest violently, of course.)

So, Itachi’s alpha is downstairs whipping up some food, but Itachi’s glasses are all the way over on the dresser… And he can’t read the book he wants to read. Well, they’re only a few metres away, Itachi should be able to grab them just fine.

Itachi scoots to the edge of the bed and then pushes himself to his feet, just in time for Sasuke to come barrelling into the room with no warning.

…

“Ugh,” Itachi grunts, legs giving out as he collapses onto the ground.

Sasuke, having come in just fast enough to see it happen, gasps and runs forward towards Itachi as fast as possible. His brother is hurt! Wait… Where is his alpha? They…They hurt him, didn’t they?!?! Did they break his legs?!

“Brother! I told you this would happen!” Sasuke shouts, already on the verge of tears because he wasn’t there to protect his older brother. “Mother! Father! Come quick, Itachi’s hurt!!”

“Sasuke! Quiet!” Itachi hisses, very aware that he’s currently half collapsed on the floor, only wearing a long T-shirt. “I’m fine, get out of my room and don’t barge in without knocking!”

“But-But-“ Sasuke blubbers, stepping closer. “But they hurt you! You have bruises everywhere! How can you defend them like this! You’re not fine!”

Itachi blushes a bright, humiliated red as Sasuke points out all the ah… marks… on his skin. He starts trying to climb back onto the bed, holding down the shirt to preserve what’s left of his modesty.

And then things go from bad to worse.

His parents’ footsteps come racing down the hall. Sasuke must have woken them up with his screaming.

Itachi thinks that death might be the best option right now.

“Mother! Father! That evil person! I told you! They hurt Itachi!” Sasuke cries, latching himself onto his mother’s dressing gown. “He can’t walk and he’s covered in bruises.”

Itachi can do nothing but watch as both their gazes scan him from head to toe. The ‘bruises’, the fact he can’t walk, the state of undress, the fact that the house was empty last night… They’re not stupid. He can see that they’ve figured it out. Itachi can’t think of a more humiliating situation than this.

His mother looks torn between amused and horrified, and his father looks like he’s seen a ghost and is about to faint any moment. All Itachi can do is avoid their eyes and hold his T-shirt down as far as he can between his legs.

The awkward silence is broken by the arrival of his alpha.

“Hey, what’s going on up here?” their voice cuts through Itachi’s wishes for death and brings him back to the present. “Itachi?”

He watches them enter the room, breakfast tray in hand and survey the situation. They quickly slide the tray onto their side of the bed and hurry over to Itachi, slipping off their dressing gown as they go and draping it over him so cover him.

Itachi doesn’t think he’s ever been so happy to see a dressing gown, and he slips it on as fast as he can.

“Don’t touch him!” Sasuke’s voice interrupts them. “I’ll never let you touch my brother again!”

Sasuke immediately launches into an attack against Itachi’s alpha. Thankfully, there’s no way his alpha would lose to a newly minted genin, and they easily manage to defend themselves without hurting him.

“Sasuke! Stop it!” Itachi orders, finally finding his voice. “They didn’t do anything wrong, you’re being ridiculous!”

“No!” Sasuke argues, still kicking at Itachi’s alpha. “Iruka sensei said that, even if you’re in a relationship with someone, they aren’t allowed to hurt you because it’s still illegal!”

“I promise I didn’t hurt your brother, Sasuke, please calm down,” they try to diffuse the situation.

“No! I-“

“Enough!” Fugaku roars, clamping a hand down on Sasuke’s arm. Some colour had returned to his face by this point, but he still pointedly avoids looking in Itachi’s direction. “No fighting in the house. Go to your room and stop bothering your brother.”

“But-“

“No buts,” Fugaku pulls Sasuke out of the door despite his fighting. “And you two," he turns his attention on to Itachi and his alpha when Sasuke has been successfully removed from the room. “If he starts asking questions, you will be the one to explain it to him.”

He leaves, and Mikoto follows behind him, shutting the door, but not before shooting Itachi a wink.

This is the worst day of his life.

The door slams shut and there’s silence again.

Itachi’s alpha gingerly lifts Itachi off of the floor and back onto the bed now that the spectators had left.

“Do you think if you hit me very hard, I’ll forget this ever happened?” Itachi asks, burying his glowing red face in his hands.

“If I hit you that hard, Sasuke would have a point, and we can’t let that happen,” Itachi’s alpha replies mildly, slipping into bed beside their mate.

“I feel so humiliated,” Itachi whispers, moving his face from his hands and burying it in his alpha’s shoulder instead.

“I know,” his alpha whispers, face pulling into a small frown. “But it’s okay, we didn’t do anything wrong. Your father has been asking for grandchildren lately, so he has no room to complain, and your mother didn’t seem to mind.”

“That’s worse,” Itachi groans. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

“Okay,” they agree, stroking his hair idly. “Have something to eat, you’ll feel better.”

#itachi x reader #omega!itachi #young!sasuke #naruto #headcanons #mikoto #fugaku #a/b/o #omegaverse #omega itachi #alpha!reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #alpha x omega

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nights-legacy · 3 years

Text

Slip Up and Stare Down- Amajiki Tamaki

Help and Hide Series. Tamaki Edition

Bakugo Ed. Kirishima Ed. Denki Ed. Todoroki Ed. Deku Ed. Shinso Ed. Iida Ed. Aizawa Ed. Hawks Ed. Dabi Ed. Shiggy Ed.

+ You are in your third year at UA along side the Big Three. During training, you do something that makes a couple of your classmates laugh at you. You are upset by this and go to leave only for Tamaki to step in and help you out. He pulls you away to a private corner and comforts you in his own way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I ran across the high beams of the training course. I easily avoided the attacks of the classmate, being able to move faster than their attempts. My ears twitched as someone tried to come up behind me. I flipped back and side swiped their legs, knocking them out of the game.

“Too easy.” I smirked in my crouched position. I looked around noticing there was only a few students left.

I went to run again when the whole structure vibrate, throwing me off balance. I tried to regain it but failed, falling over the edge. I hit the ground rather hard before rolling off to the side. I had landed on my left wrist and shoulder hard. I hear laughter off to the side and looked over.

“Guys! It’s not that funny!” I yelled at my classmates. I sat on the ground where I fell after the mishap. Apparently, whatever I did was extremely funny even though my tail hurt as well as my wrist and shoulder. I rubbed my wrist while they continued to laugh.

“Yes it was! I mean I thought cats always landed on your feet but apparently not.” One of the guys teased.

“I mean aren’t you supposed to have the best balance in class having a cat quirk and all?” A girl gave me a smile while asking.

“Well I do have good balance but that doesn’t mean I can’t get tripped up.” I said getting up. My ears started to flatten against my head.

“Yeah? Well maybe you need to work on that.” Another guy quipped. I know most of them weren’t trying to be mean and such but what they were saying was starting to hurt. I gripped my wrist and took a few steps back, shrinking into myself.

The whole exercise had been some agility training and most of the time I was the best at this but not today and now my classmates laughing at me. Just because I had the ears, tail, eyes, and cat like agility and reflexes doesn’t mean I can’t trip up like a normal person. I turned to walk away.

“Wait! We just messing with you! Don’t get butt hurt.” One of the guys said. I turned and looked at him appalled. One of the others hit him the chest, scolding him for saying to so insensitive. I shook my head and went to walk on when I bumped into someone lightly.

“Sorry.” I whispered. I looked up and saw Tamaki but he wasn’t looking at me. He had his eyes locked on the people behind me with his intimidating stare. I heard the other shut up behind me. “Tamaki?” I whispered his name but his stare didn’t waver.

“Come on.” He said gently before tentatively taking my hand and pulling me away. I followed behind with one glance back to see Mirio and Nejire talking to the group. We walked for a while in silence before he stopped, let go of my hand, and faced a wall. He sighed heavily. I stood off to the side, standing awkwardly and rubbing my arm not knowing what to do.

“Ow.” I barely whispered loud enough for myself to hear my wrist throbbed again. I gently rubbed it before I felt eyes on me. I looked up to see Tamaki had turned his head slightly and looked at me.

“Are you hurt?” He asked softly.

“Just my wrist and shoulder. When I fell.” I told him, shrugging the slightest bit.

“You fell pretty hard.” He commented before surprising me by reaching out and grabbing my wrist gently, taking over and massaging the hurt appendage. I gasped slightly causing him to look up at me.

“Am I hurting you?” He asked.

“No, it feels nice.” I said honestly. I looked down at the ground while he continued. We stood there in comfortable silence until we heard voices come from around the corner. The voices that belonged to the group that laughed at me.

“Y/N?” I heard one of them call.

“Ug. I don’t want to talk to them.” I groaned. The next thing I knew Tamaki was grabbing my waist and pulling me away quickly. He pulled me into a cozy little corner that, without really looking, you wouldn’t know was there. I leant against the wall and he stood in front of me with his hands in his pockets.

“I am sorry about the fall.” I raised an eyebrow at him. He scratched the back of his neck. “I was the reason for the whole structure vibrating. I got over excited. I should have been more careful, especially since I knew you were up there and…”

“Tamaki.” I stopped him, stepping forward and placing my hands on his forearms. He went silent fast and still like stone. I looked down at my hands and realized what I had done. I went to pull away but when I only got a few centimeters away Tamaki was faster. He grabbed onto my elbows gently stepping close.

“Wait.” He said. I looked up at him and saw a blush on his face. He took in a shaky breath. He was looking at the ground as he usually does but this time was different, it just felt different. I could hear his heart beating very fast. He suddenly looked up at me. He had an intense look as he stared at me.

“Tamaki?” My hands rested comfortably on his arms. I looked into his eyes.

“Don’t freak out…please.” He whispered. I was about to ask what he was talking about but he pulled me closer and leant down, placing his lips on mine. I gasped before it clicked what he was doing. I easily fell into the kiss, leaning more into him. I moved my hands up to his neck and I felt his wrap around my waist. I let him lead the kiss and he then pushed me back into the wall.

“What was that?” I whispered as he pulled away. He took a shaky breath again.

“I’m sorry. I just couldn’t help myself anymore. I have wanted to do that for so long but I am not…” He was starting to panic.

“Sh sh.” I place a finger on his lips to quiet him before kissing him again. “It’s perfectly fine, Tamaki. I quite liked it.”

“Y-you did? That’s good. Umm, I haven’t kissed much so I was afraid it would be bad.” He stuttered, his confidence drained. I smiled softy before I flinched as my shoulder throbbed. He looked at me worried.

“My shoulder, it’s alright.” I set a hand on his chest.

“Y/N? Are you around?” I heard them again. I literally saw Tamaki go from his shy cinnamon roll state to protective. He covered me with his body, setting his arms on either side of me, caging me in. He looked over his shoulder, watching the opening. I hesitated at first but eventually reached up to caress his cheek in comfort.

“I don’t like how they made fun of you.” He said lowly.

“They weren’t trying to be mean. It was just a bit hurtful.” He whipped his head toward me.

“But they could clearly see that you didn’t like and should have stopped.” He said before setting his forehead on mine. “I wish I got there faster.”

“It’s alright. I’m okay. It was nothing that will wound me deep.” I rubbed my thumb across his cheek. He closed his eyes and I felt his body relax against me. He moved his head to my shoulder and lowered his arms down to my waist again.

“Okay.” He said softly. I wrapped my arms around his middle resting my forehead against the juncture of his neck. “I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.” I felt him kiss the side of my neck. I smiled, proud of him for stepping out for himself for once.

“It won’t be.” I said back. He slowly straightened back up and looked down at me. He was smiling with little tears in the corner of his eyes. I pulled him into a kiss and he kissed me back earnestly. We pulled away after a minute.

“Are you two done yet?” Mirio’s voice called out. We both jumped and I saw Tamaki’s face go bright red. He started stuttering and clamming up. He started pulling away but I caught his hands and he looked at me in the eye.

“It’s okay.” I assured and he calmed down. I motioned with my head towards the others. “Let’s go.” He nodded and we walked out to see Mirio and Nejire waiting patiently. I waved at them and Tamaki was looking at the ground.

“Congrats you two!” Mirio exclaimed. He walked over and gave Tamaki an affectionate side hug. “I’m so proud of you Tama! You two deserve each other.”

“He’s right.” Nejire chirped. I blushed a little and I felt Tamaki grip my hand. I moved closer to him and he looked at me fondly. I moved his arm across my shoulders and cuddled into his side, tail wrapping around his waist as we walked to the locker rooms to change.

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ladyeliot · 3 years

Photo

What are you doing to me?

Request: @lostaurorax : hi! i absolutely love your writing and was wondering if i could request a tony stark smut with prompts 8 and 9 from your valentines prompt list if that’s okay with you!

Anonymous: Hi for the valentines request how about a tony x reader with a smut and dialogue no 8 and 9 with a teeny bit of angst

Pairing: Tony Stark x Fem!Reader

Summary: It was your first time in years that you were going on a Valentine's date, but things don't always go your way and the plan goes completely awry.

Warnings: Smut, Smut and Smut.

Word count: 4395

A/N: Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

Valentine’s Day (Prompts)

How had you come to find yourself in such a situation, especially on Valentine's Day?

You had started the day with a supernatural glow on your face, it was common for your awakenings to be the most irritating, but that day it wasn't. You were finally going to be able to get out of those four walls that were corralling you, to get out of those four walls that were corralling you. You were finally going to be able to get out of those four walls that had you cornered, to go out into the world, like a normal, ordinary person, which was what you needed most at that moment. No training, no missions, no world problems, just you and your date on Valentine's Day.

It had been about three years since that day professed nothing special inside you, basically since your life took a supernatural turn, never better said, and you had to say goodbye to everyone you knew to venture into a new life with a new family. Since then, perhaps for fear of not being accepted, or because your lifestyle prevented you from doing so, you had not embarked on new romantic relationships, but that was not a problem for you, you found what you needed in other ways.

But then he came along. It all happened during a mission, working alongside a CIA operative he was on. Things happened fast enough that you didn't realise you were at an advanced point, perhaps too advanced for you. Still, you tried not to fray your nerves and get too overwhelmed, because what you liked most about him was that you didn't have to hide who you were from him, because he already knew. Surely he would have made sure that he knew every step you had taken before he worked with you.

That morning you went out to exercise first thing in the morning, the new avengers' facilities were crowded, you needed time to think calmly, so you opted to go for a run in the middle of nature. You had decided to dedicate 24 hours of that day to yourself, without alarming worries, the only worries you wanted to have in mind were what to wear and where you would end the night, the most ordinary worries possible.

You wished there was a mission that week that would have sent all your colleagues away, so you wouldn't have to put up with their joking comments about it, but apparently it was the most important event of the week.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not listening," you said, raising your voice without removing your headphones from your ears, assuming that Sam and Natasha's laughter was accompanied by some joking comment about your date that night with 'Mr. CIA', as they referred to him.

You made your way to your bedroom, eager to wash away the sweat that was soaking under a stream of cold water. Back In Black' drifted into your ears through your headphones, abstracting you from your surroundings and keeping your heart rate up, but suddenly the melody cut out to hear F.R.I.D.A.Y's voice through the headphones, breaking the moment.

"Miss Y/L/N," his volume was almost louder than your melody which made you gasp, "Mr. Stark is waiting for you in his office."

"Now?!" you complained, barely able to hear your voice because of the blockage in your ears.

You rolled your eyes and retraced your steps to Tony's office in the other wing of the building. You turned the music back on, avoiding having to listen to the comments of your colleagues as you walked back through the room, who of course had not given up on making you angry, but always with a touch of humour and love. Tony's office was with the door open, you switched off the music and could hear him having a rather ironic conversation with probably some high official of the state, lately you were being bombarded with his attacks.

"I hope I never have the pleasure again," he said pacing with one hand tucked in his trouser pocket. "Sure."

As he hung up the phone he rested both his hands on the desk, apparently he was so abstracted that he hadn't even noticed your presence.

"Are you all right?" you asked as you saw Tony's worried face, which he probably would never have allowed you to see if it wasn't for the fact that he didn't know you were there.

At your words he quickly lifted his chin and stood back up as if nothing had happened, a smile on his face offering to play down the importance of the event.

"Great, you're here," he said, slipping both hands into his pockets and rounding the desk to approach you.

"Yeah, F.R.I.D.A.Y said you wanted to talk to me," you commented taking the headphones out of your ears and stuffing them into the pockets of your sweat shorts.

"Yep," he slowly rubbed his beard thoughtfully. "I hear you've got a date tonight with..."

"Oh no, please, you too..."

"Listen," he interrupted you just as you had done before. "Tonight you're meeting with... what's his name? Oh, yes! Mr. CIA-"

"His name is Fred," you cut him off, crossing your arms as you wondered what he had on his mind. waiting for what he had in mind to tell you.

"Fred," he pointed an index finger at you, arching his eyebrows. "I've never liked that name, a bit of a ridiculous diminutive don't you think? If it comes from Frederick of course..." he began to ramble, gesturing with his hands, not giving you a clue as to what you had come for.

"Tony," you interrupted him.

"Okay, never mind," he slipped his right hand into his trouser pocket and pulled out a set of keys. "For you."

You uncrossed your arms, confusion had flooded your mind, why was Tony offering you that set of keys? Hesitantly, you slowly took the keys between your fingers and looked at them carefully. They were all quite unique, not at all like ordinary people's keys, they were full of electronic add-ons.

"Firstly, where are they from? And secondly, why are you giving them to me?" you ask without stopping analysing them.

"They're from one of the safe houses I own in Manhattan," he informed you, pointing them out."More than a flat, a building.

That information puzzled you even more.

"I don't understand," you said frankly, looking him in the eye.

"You just told me you're going into town tonight because you have a date with Fred?" he said again.

"And what does that have to do with you giving me the keys to a safe house?" you asked without finding a clear connection in the fact.

"Building," he rectified, to which you rolled your eyes. "Listen, have dinner with him, enjoy the evening, but then if... you know, things get..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, okay," you said holding up your hands stopping him before he finished the words. "I got it, I got it."

"...hot take it there," he continued without paying attention to you and flashing a half smile, "don't go to Mr. CIA's house."

You nodded with a slightly uncomfortable smile for having had that conversation while collecting all the keys in your clenched fist. All you wanted to do was get out of there and take a shower to wash the cold sweat off your body.

"Thank you so much for your concern Tony," you said a little wryly walking backwards trying to tackle the door as soon as possible.

"You're welcome," he said enjoying your uncomfortable feeling. "And remember, always safe sex."

You shook your head and rolled your eyes and walked out without looking back. Putting on your helmets didn't stop those three letters from wandering through your thoughts, it had been so long since you'd had sex that you'd almost forgotten how to feel when you were possibly about to get laid again. If it had been three years since you'd joined the Avengers, exactly three years, that should be a bloody crime. But you couldn't blame yourself, you didn't even have enough confidence in yourself, how could you offer it to someone else.

The next few hours were all about you, about your self-care, gaining enough confidence to live again. That black silk dress that reached almost to the floor fell loosely over your body, leaving a plunging neckline and an open back, held up by thin straps. It had been so long since you had looked like that that you could hardly recognise yourself, you had left that time behind, but it was in your hands again. You grabbed a small handbag and after putting the finishing touches to your lipstick you left your bedroom, the longed-for walk of shame awaited you until you reached the car that was waiting to take you to the city.

"Alright, I don't want you to say anything," you informed before walking across the room, where some of your classmates were gathered, luckily some of them were preparing dinner so they weren't present.

"Wow!" exclaimed Sam, smacking Steve's chest, who just smiled and nodded at you, offering you one of his few-word approvals.

"Enjoy your evening," said Nat approaching you and giving you a little hug. "And you know what to do if you need me, one phone call and I'll break his legs."

You smiled after hearing those words whispered in your ears and headed for the exit. The car was as ready as you were to start your journey, you just got in and headed towards the big apple following the Hudson River. The lights, the big skyscrapers, the people walking through the streets, the traffic, you were definitely in New York. You looked at your watch, there were ten minutes left to meet Fred at the place he had booked and you were looking forward to, but life always has twists and turns that take us by surprise, and there was one for you.

One last last minute twist of fate had come Fred's way, informing you just as the car had pulled up outside the restaurant, completely changing your established idea of how the evening was going to go. It wasn't a feeling of anger that came over you, on the contrary, the disappointment was so strong that it was impossible for you to set off back to the avengers' compound, you would be the most embarrassed person if in less than an hour you turned up again under sympathetic glances. You had the keys inside your bag that Tony had offered you, so you would use them, and tomorrow morning you would be on your way home.

Tony's building was located in Lower Manhattan, just as he had called it, a frank building full of all the comforts and technologies, it resembled the Stark Tower but without the external façade, everything was inside. When you walked in you discovered that Tony had arranged for it to be fitted out with all the romantic necessities he thought you would need that night. The finest French champagne was on the lounge table along with a couple of glasses and a basket of your favourite chocolates.

You plopped down on the sofa with no desire to do anything, kicking off your heels, but at that moment you remembered that you had the house to yourself. You got up and grabbed the bottle of champagne along with the box of chocolates and took the lift to the rooftop. New York was really something to see from the heights and right now you had it all at your feet. You didn't know how long you sat in that armchair waiting for the hours to pass, but the bottle was half full.

"Nice view."

Your heart flipped as you heard those words behind you. Tony's figure suddenly appeared and stood beside you.

"What-what are you doing here?" you asked as you stood up, abandoning the champagne.

"The same thing I want to ask you," with his hands in his pockets he looked up at you. "Have you been crying?"

"No!" you exclaimed, crossing your arms mostly because of the cold wind that was blowing against your skin.

"Where's Fred?" asked Tony taking off his black blazer and covering you with it.

"He had...work..." you said almost in a whisper leaning against the railing to avoid looking at him. "What are you doing here?"

"F.R.I.D.A.Y told me you'd arrived," he commented as he continued to stare at you. "Alone."

You nodded biting your tongue cursing at his AI, who was informing him of every move you were making at every moment.

"Why didn't you go back to the facility?" he asked, closing the distance to you.

"Do you really need me to answer that?" you said looking at him.

"Why didn't you call me?" he stood next to you at the railing.

"Do you need me to answer that too?" you arched an eyebrow. "I wanted to be alone, well, I really want to be alone Tony."

Your companion stared at you, brought his index finger to your face to push back a strand of your hair that prevented him from fully contemplating you. Your relationship with Tony had always been complex, strangely complex. You'd known him for three years and you still didn't quite understand him, you didn't know which section of your social life to classify him in, and situations like that were the ones that still puzzled you the most. There was a time when you thought there was a deeper connection between you, your relationship with him wasn't the same as you used to have with Sam or Steve, it was different. But at no point in your lives had you decided to talk about it.

In those moments, as you had told him, you wanted to be alone, but you weren't. There was Tony beside you, looking at you, looking at your face, looking at your lips, creating a strange situation for you.

"What are you doing?" you whispered, directing your gaze to his eyes that remained fixed on your lips.

"The correct question is..." Tony's voice became deeper. "What are you doing to me?"

It was right after those words that you definitely knew what you were doing to him, when Tony furtively closed the distance to you, bringing his lips close to yours, looking for a response from you. However, that event caught you so off guard that you reacted even against your will, offering him a shove to create distance between the two of you again.

"What the hell are you doing!" you exclaimed with wide eyes, stunned, trying to analyse what had just happened.

"Kissing you?" Tony's tone of indifference, it wasn't like usual, it had a mixture of guilt in it. "Come on! We're not just friends and you fucking know it."

You were trying to connect the pieces with the sensations you were feeling at the moment, surprise and indignation mixed with sexual tension and passion, it was all very confusing. You could barely hear what Tony was saying to you at the moment, he was rambling again, but you couldn't resist him, and though you would probably hate yourself for it the next morning you silenced his words by pulling him to you, causing his jacket to slip off his shoulders and fall to the floor. It caught him off guard, but it didn't take long for him to react and bring his hands to your bare back to pull you closer to his body.

The warmth of his rough hands running over your soft skin made you shiver. Until that moment you hadn't realised the need you felt for someone to hold you in their hands, the need for Tony to hold you. His taste running over your lips, your tongue, it was just as you had dreamed, you were being completely taken in by his kisses, running down your neck softly until he reached your collarbones where he slowly slid his tongue. It was like being lost between two worlds and not finding your way out, but you really didn't want to find it.

Soft moans came from inside you, wanting to inform him of the need you were feeling at that moment for him, to have him all to yourself. It had been so long since someone had made you feel this way, you thought your body was going to explode at any moment. Gently Tony's fingers reached up to the thin strap that was held firmly over your left shoulder, letting it slowly fall down your upper arm to give him better accessibility to kiss you.

"It's been so long..." those words left your lips as if they were a plea.

"I know sweetheart," he whispered brushing his lips against your earlobe. "Come with me."

Tony's fingers intertwined with yours, guiding you into the building. You let him lead you down the steps, until finally you found yourself inside a large bedroom, returning to where you had left off, rekindling the need between you. You surrendered yourself to his caresses and kisses again, feeling alive. You tried to undo the knot of the tie that was allowing you so little of Tony's body to be seen, but his hands went faster than yours and held you back. The smile on Tony's face showed you that he intended to prolong those games, but you were thinking of going further, you needed to go further.

"Come on Tony..." you pleaded hoping he felt as needy as you did at that moment.

"Where to?" he asked, slowly caressing the silky fabric of the dress at your thighs.

"Stop teasing me," you murmured, but instantly your tone became more self-assured. "Or I'll be the one to start teasing with you."

Firmly you brought your hands to his chest to offer him a gentle push away from you, just enough distance for him to watch as you very slowly brought your hands to the straps and let them fall down the length of your arms, causing the black dress to fall to your feet. You were practically naked, except for a pair of lacy black panties, under the watchful eyes of those brown eyes that seemed consumed by what they were seeing.

"Oh, baby. I'm gonna fuck you so hard that you forgot you ever met that asshole," you bit your lower lip, inwardly begging for him to make good on those words. Even though he had already partly done it, he had made you forget about him completely.

You approached him very slowly, it almost hurt, you brought your hands to the collar of his shirt, rubbing his neck with your index fingers, slowly unbuttoning the buttons to check the nakedness of his torso. You uncovered the reactor, which you kissed and then you got down on your knees, getting to the height of his member, which was completely erect. Tony watched your movements with pleasure, letting you express yourself freely, putting you to the test.

Having finished unbuttoning his shirt, you chose to unbutton his trousers with extreme caution, the view from Tony's height was marvellous, and you knew it, so you looked away for a moment to see how he was enjoying watching you.

"Do you like what you see?" you whispered knowing the answer as you unzipped his trousers, feeling his cock rise even more under your touch.

"Oh honey, you know, you really shouldn't tease me," his words came out along with a slight moan, which brought a proud smile to your mouth.

Without a second thought you brought your hands to the top of his boxers and with a subtle brush you pulled them down until the top of his member was presented before your eyes, completely reddened, waiting to be attended to. You closed your eyes, approaching him only to brush him with the tip of your tongue. That warmth you offered him generated a deafening noise from inside Tony's throat who kept looking at you as if his dilated pupils were going to explode at any moment, and who didn't hesitate to place his right hand on the back of your neck to encourage you to continue, but you reacted totally the opposite of what he wanted and again rose up to put yourself at the level of his face.

"You're playing with fire," Tony raised the corner of his lip mischievously, having checked how you were playing with him, "and you just got burned."

His two hands gripping your naked hips tightly was all it took to pull you to the bed and let you fall onto the white sheets. You discovered your own need in his lust-filled eyes, which watched you as he dropped his shirt to the floor and shed his trousers, leaving only his member covered by the thin fabric of his black boxers. You knew you had teased him and it came at a price, a price you were willing to pay at any time, in fact you were willing to pay it.

His body pushed you back against the mattress, you let out a small moan as you discovered that his hands were slowly undoing the only question you had left on your body, your panties, which were slowly sliding down your thighs.

"Tell me how much you need me," his rough voice against your right nipple made you close your eyes and open your needy mouth.

"I need to feel you." You requested as best you could.

"Say please." Tony commanded dropping his lips to your left breast.

"Please..." you begged watching his every action.

"Are you gonna be good for me?" Tony's mouth found itself sliding between your hips, trailing his tongue back and forth.

"I... "you paused for air. "I promise I'll be good."

"Good..." his face disappeared from your sight, moving deeper between your thighs. "Now I want you to forget everyone but me."

As if you were in seventh fucking heaven his warm breath collided with your warmth. Just as you had done a few minutes ago, Tony slid his tongue along every millimetre of your folds, taking pride in the sound it made you externalise. You barely remembered what it felt like, what the deafening pleasure felt like, making your skin burn, your insides scream with pleasure, your need present in every part of your skin, and you weren't afraid to externalise everything you felt. Tony felt himself reveling in the taste of you, punishing you for teasing him earlier, leaving you half-hearted every time you felt you were about to explode.

It was inevitable for you to start moaning his name, wanting him to make use of his hands, to let you cum with pleasure.

"I want your fingers inside me." You commanded, not caring that you sounded so needy, tangling your fingers in Tony's hair.

But recreating the same action you had done to him, he pulled his lips away from your clit to look at you with extreme excitement in his pupils.

"Tony, I need to feel you." You reminded him as he watched you while barely making physical contact with you. "I need you so bad..."

"I know honey," he whispered approaching your face and running his tongue over your lips. "I'm not done with you yet."

When he steps back he offers you the confirmation you needed, his boxers begin to slide down his legs, releasing his full erection, knowing that this was all you needed inside you at the moment. His body reaches up to grab a condom from the drawer in the coffee table, but at no time does he look away from you, tempting you with a slide of your tongue across his lips, causing you to be quicker than he is and steal the condom from his hands. As he does, you reach down and before you put it on, you place a soft kiss on the tip of his cock.

Tony doesn't hesitate to grab your hips and pull you back to the position he needed you to be, between the mattress and his body. After trapping your lips between his he uttered words you could never forget, and which caused your clit to spasm slightly, "I'm gonna fuck you until you beg me to stop." You clenched your jaw and let him thrust inside you with a slowness that you found insufferable, but which caused your moans for the first time to blend together as one in the air.

Your hands prevented his body from separating from yours, drawing him into you. Your control points were completely gone, you had been waiting so long to destroy the barriers that prevented you from having pleasure that at that moment all your senses were fully expanded, every cell in your body wanted to explode with pleasure, and Tony was getting it so easily.

"I'm so close..." you uttered between moans, making Tony's speed start to increase.

"Come for me, honey." He whispered against your lips, pressing into a tight kiss.

His words were a command to your body, who decided the moment had come, exploding, letting your lust take you over completely. You moaned the name "Tony" as you allowed your sensations to invade every part of you, closing around Tony, who relished every sound and movement you made, and who couldn't resist hearing you utter his name, causing his hips to pick up even more speed, cumming right after you.

The cumulus of sensations and feeling was mutual, causing your bodies to fall into each other after everything that had just happened that night in that building on Manhattan Island. It took you a few minutes to react, catching your breath again and realising what had just happened between the two of you.

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years

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Stalker X Stalker, Part 10

First

Perma tag: @nathleigh @peachmuses

Stalker x Stalker taglist: @aespades @jayjayspixiepop @blueslushgueen @fan-written @seraphichana @nerd-nowandforever @toodaloo-kangaroo

Marinette’s collection of vigilantes in her house was still growing, somehow. You’d think it would stop with just the ones that consistently lived in Gotham, but no.

Nightwing started dropping by whenever he was in town to try and teach her escrima. She wasn’t good with them because she wasn’t used to fighting people up close, but she didn’t really think that that was the reason why they were doing it.

Still, it was fun…

(Except for that one time they’d been heading back to her house and she dropped her phone down the drain and had to beg the rat-person -- she was pretty sure Nightwing had called them Ratcatcher? -- for help. It was very traumatizing. He’d given her a new phone but she was never going to recover emotionally from that day.)

And then, a few days before Thanksgiving, Flamebird had made an appearance.

The reason why was less fun, though.

She’d opened her blinds and stared at him for a few moments. He was leaning against her fire escape, hand pressed to his stomach.

“Hey, Robin, does Flamebird usually do the Napoleon pose?”

“The…? Oh, no, he does not.”

She sighed. “Yeah, I thought so.” She swung her window open. “Hi. Nice to meet you. What happened?”

“Got stabbed.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Okay, yeah, obviously, want to elaborate?”

“Got stabbed in the stomach,” he said, after a second’s thought.

So, no, then. She shrugged to herself and let him come inside.

“Right, Robin, go get the medkit out from under my sink,” she said, pulling a hairband from her wrist and tying her hair back.

Flamebird frowned. “Can’t you just undo everything with your magic?”

“Not magic,” supplied Tikki, popping her head out of Marinette’s pocket.

“FUCK,” yelped Flamebird.

Damian made the quiet clicking sound he made whenever he was about to say something rude but Marinette cut him off with a glare and pointed him towards the bathroom. Damian grumbled a little under his breath but obeyed for fear of being thrown out.

She turned back to Flamebird. “Also, that’s not how my ‘magic’ works. If I’m not involved in a fight…” She made a ‘poof’ motion with her hands. “No miracle cure.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Man, if I’d known that I would’ve just dealt with this myself.”

“Well, it is too late for that,” said Damian, who had come back out with a medkit. “Now, sit down, we will tend to your wound.”

And they did.

(Or, rather, Marinette did. It didn’t matter if she knew, logically, that he already knew how wounds looked and how to treat them, she just didn’t feel comfortable making him help. She sent him off to play with the cat and worked on dressing it. She’d made a mistake here by doing the normal routine while stitching someone up: asking about things they liked to distract them. He said he was an ‘avid reader’, she’d laughed and said that she probably wouldn��t know any of the books he mentioned because she hardly ever read in English, and now she was apparently in a book club. That was on her, she supposed, but it was still a little irritating.)

And that was all the vigilantes. They all came over from time to time. Sometimes they’d see each other and give each other awkward smiles or actively ignore each other, but it became a constant part of her life.

But it all came to a head one seemingly regular day.

She had been walking up the stairs to her apartment with Tim, ten bags of groceries loaded onto her arms and five on his (he was to open the door), and had nearly bumped into him when he stopped suddenly.

“Cass?” He asked, confused.

She raised her eyebrows just slightly. She’d thought everyone knew about each other but, now that she thought about it, because of the scheduling Tim wouldn’t really be around when everyone else came by.

He took Cass’s arrival in stride, though, fishing his key out of his pocket and pushing the door open.

He did not take in stride the fact that Duke, Damian, and Nightwing were all inside her house already. Duke was sitting on her counter, wrapped in a blanket as he scrolled through his phone. Damian was playing with Vanelope. Nightwing was doing stretches on her floor.

“Hey, look, more people that don’t live here,” Marinette said with only a hint of bitterness.

Nightwing glanced up. “You’re out of chips.”

“Already --?!” She took a deep breath to steady herself. “Fine. Fine. I got more, anyways.”

Tim snapped out of it. He closed and locked the door quickly before sending Marinette a pout. “Alright, I can get you cheating on me with Cass, but come on,” he half joked.

Marinette rolled her eyes. “If one of the people I’m apparently cheating with is a five-year-old --.”

“TWELVE.”

“-- then I think you have more things to worry about than my serial adultery, darling.”

“... guess that’s true.”

“Also, I only buy groceries with you, so you’re clearly my favorite concubine.”

Duke grinned. “Actually --.”

“Except for that one time I asked Signal to go find ricotta because I’d forgotten it,” she conceded. “I guess he's my second favorite.”

Cass pouted and raised her hand.

“She makes a good case for herself. You’ve both been demoted,” she joked.

Tim was still pouting. Probably has something to do with going from favorite to second favorite. Who knows.

She rolled her eyes. She had bigger problems. Like her food. There were frozens and she was not going to lose her food to something as stupid and useless as the air. She waved him along as much as she could with the bags digging into her arms and started putting things away.

She tipped her head back after a second to squint at everyone. They were awkwardly staring at each other, for some reason… oh, right, they technically didn’t know each other.

“Uh, introductions, I guess. Signal, Robin, and Nightwing, meet my friends. Tim, Cass, meet my annoyances.”

Tim perked up a little at being called a friend rather than an annoyance. Problem solved. Kind of.

He set down his bags and leaned close to her ear. “So, they don’t know you know?”

“Duke does,” she mumbled back. “I’m not going to tell them about it, though, I want to see how long it takes them to notice.”

He snickered. “I can get behind that.”

“Good. You didn’t have a choice in the matter,” she joked, leaning forward to press a kiss to his nose.

She could hear Cass groan a little at the obvious affection and both Duke and Damian cringed. She fought the urge to laugh. It was just a little kiss on the nose, they didn’t have to act like it was scandalous or gross.

But, apparently, it was gross enough for Damian to grab her arm to try and pull her attention away from Tim (and physically pull her away from him, she noted, as she was forced to take a half-step back from him).

“Did you get more of my gummy bears?”

She rolled her eyes. “Did you ask for them? Did you tell me you were out?”

He looked a little put out and she felt bad enough to give up the act quickly:

“Yes, kid, I got you your weird vegan gummy bears.”

He beamed and started sifting through her bags.

She smiled fondly and ruffled his hair, ignoring the knife that was sent her way for the action with practiced ease, then started putting things away.

Everyone except Damian made their way over to help. There were no ulterior motives, they insisted, even as she watched Nightwing slip a bag of chips into Damian’s hoodie for safekeeping and Duke pocket an apple.

At least Cass and Tim were reasonably well-behaved, she thought right before she watched him split an orange with her.

Tim squinted at the three people below him.

Jon had come to visit because a) the no metas in Gotham rule had more or less stopped being enforced due to constant complaints from the Justice League, b) Damian needed friends his age, and c) it was Christmas and Jon was so sure that this year was going to be the year that Damian finally understood the holiday.

And, because Jon had come to visit, so had Conner. The worst part of being an older brother that Tim understood all too well.

But, now, he looked down at the three people gathered at the bottom of the stairs.

They were apparently competing to see who could be the stupidest. Steph was standing on a banister, Marinette was trying to sit on a vertical bo staff, and Conner was doing a handstand on both of their heads. It was a little shaky, what with Steph’s barely restrained laughter and the fact that bos are not meant to be balanced on and Conner trying to do tricks, but they were clearly having fun.

Tim crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the entrance to the cave. Did he have a type?

Their comms crackled to life and all three went stock-still, grins wiped from their faces briefly as they listened to see what had happened.

“I am requesting the night off to have an outing with Superboy.”

Bruce gave the grunt that meant ‘fine’.

The three relaxed now that they knew that everything was okay, quickly going back to their game. Marinette had added a surfboard. Steph was struggling with an exercise ball. Conner was slowly taking off fingers.

Tim sighed to himself. Yep. Dumbasses who can only be serious for truly important things -- and, even then, only for a few seconds at a time. That was his type. Someone, please, save him.

It had been a while since Marinette had gone out on her own (with the intention of staying alone, leaving for patrols didn’t count). Really, she normally wouldn’t, but she needed to pick up a piece of fabric she’d forgotten to get the day before and it wasn’t even a meter’s worth. She didn’t need help for that.

Besides, going by herself was much quicker. She was able to go by rooftop as Ladybug.

Of course, going as Ladybug had a risk to it that she didn’t realize until it was too late: responsibilities.

She groaned to herself as she made to jump to the next roof and her eyes landed on a person getting mugged in the alleyway below her.

She looked down at the bag with her fabric inside it and wondered if it was even worth leaving it there while she got rid of the attacker. Most of the time the people mugging people in Gotham were using fake guns. Even if they weren’t, muggings were common enough that most people had little on them and were only slightly annoyed when people tried to rob them. The person below was no exception, it seemed. They scoffed when the gunman poked their back.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going,” they said irritably.

Wait, shit, she knew that voice.

She squinted down into the darkness and, yep, she would recognize that almost unhealthily pale skin anywhere.

She dropped down into the alley between them and, to her slight surprise, it turned out the gun actually did have bullets in it. A shot rang out. She fell back a step, cradling her shoulder.

The gunman’s eyes widened. He hadn’t meant to shoot her. It had probably just been a split second reaction.

Unfortunately for him, getting shot really fucking hurts and she was going to take it out on him. Especially since he’d been trying to mug one of her friends. She glanced back at Tim, who was shaking and a little pale, and grit her teeth. Yeah, this guy was fucked.

Eventually, though, the pain in her shoulder, worsened by all the movement, got too unbearable and she rolled off of the mugger. She tied the man’s hands and feet behind his back with her yoyo and, after calling Miraculous Ladybug, called it a day. She’d get her yoyo back later.

For now, she pressed a hand to her ear. “Hey, Signal, I’ve got one for you.”

“You’re joining me for daytime patrols now?” He asked, his voice somehow brighter than the powers he had.

“Nah, just happened to come across…” She considered embarrassing Tim but decided against it when she saw her friend’s face. “... someone getting mugged while out today.”

He huffed a little but she ignored it in favor of relaying the address.

The perpetrator to be taken care of, she turned to the victim. She didn’t know whether the rules applied to people you knew, but she figured she might as well go through with the normal procedure. Tim liked procedure, it might help him.

So, step one: connect with the victim. She unzipped her hoodie and smiled brightly, making sure her eyes crinkled behind her mask.

Step two: check to make sure they aren’t going into shock.

Normally, she was able to skip this step. The miracle cure got rid of it if they had gone into it before the attack… but his eyes were somehow both fixed intensely on her like he was scared she’d disappear if he chanced a look away and extremely vacant.

She took slow, careful steps towards him, hand out to check his pulse.

Once she was close enough, he grabbed her hand and pulled her into a hug. Marinette didn’t quite know what to do. The part of her brain still doing the normal procedure told her to hug back because this was a scared victim that wanted comfort, but the other part was tempted to push him off to check for a concussion… even though, logically, he shouldn’t have one because she had cast Miraculous Ladybug so her arm wouldn’t have a bullet in it anymore --.

Oh. She was stupid.

He’d watched his friend get shot and now he was freaking out. Like people are supposed to do.

She hugged him back, bringing a hand up to run through his hair.

“Would you like me to take you home?” She asked.

“My… my friend lives near here,” said Tim quietly, mindful of the fact that the mugger was still within earshot.

She nodded. “I’m going to pick you up, okay?”

He bit his lip so hard that she worried he’d break the skin and nodded.

She took him home and, with only a brief stop to keep Vanelope from escaping, set him down on the couch. She kept a hand touching him at all times as she gathered the blankets and pillows strewn about by all the visits the bats made. For once, she was glad she never really had time to clean, she didn’t want to let go of him when he was clearly so concerned about her.

Less than five minutes later she’d wrapped them both up as tightly as she could with as many blankets as she could reach. He rested his head against her shoulder, arms loosely draped around her under the blankets. Vanelope settled on their laps and started to purr; she made a mental note to give her a bunch of treats later.

But, for now…

She cupped his cheeks in her hands and waited patiently as he struggled to pull himself together enough to actually be present.

“Darling, I said I wouldn’t go anywhere. I’m not breaking that promise. Okay?”

He nodded slightly, finally releasing his lip to speak: “Okay.”

She pressed a kiss to his nose. A half smile made its way across his face.

“Now, how do you feel about Big Fish?”

He squeezed her a little tighter. “The circus scene is cute.”

She nodded her agreement. “I like the daffodil scene better, personally, but it is pretty cute.”

She turned the movie on.

Tim was sure he was overreacting. Of course he was. She hadn’t died, she wasn’t even hurt any more. It clearly didn’t bother her, he had ‘accidentally’ chosen that shoulder to rest his head on and she hadn’t so much as winced when he had. No, the only worry she had was about him.

So, he should be fine.

But he wasn’t.

She’d been shot and, for a second, he’d feared it would be another Darla situation. And he couldn’t deal with another Darla situation. He couldn’t. He had to believe that he was better than that high school Tim that had let all his friends die. Because if he wasn’t better than that meant he couldn’t have friends and he couldn’t deal with that either.

He didn’t want to be alone again.

No, he wouldn’t let that happen. He could think of a plan, surely. He was a planner, he found problems and he dealt with them. That had been his coping mechanism pretty much since birth and (if you ignore all the workaholic tendencies, independence issues, and General Trauma) it was working out pretty well for him. Can’t be sad if there’s work to do, after all.

Yeah. Work. He was good at work.

He bit his lip.

Alright, so the problem stemmed from his fear of being alone… which wasn’t going to be fixed anytime soon. Good coping mechanisms? In this family? Please. Next.

Alright, so the problem stemmed from his fear of her getting hurt.

Simple solution! Don’t let her get hurt!

… not as simple a solution as it sounded on paper.

She wasn’t going to stop vigilantism anytime soon. He wouldn’t make her, and she wasn’t going to do it on her own accord. Even if she decided to at some point Tim didn’t have much hope for it. Every person in the family had tried that already, it never worked. They’d say that it would be fine, that they were going to stop for their mental health or even just permanently end it… but family was family and how could someone sit back and watch family get hurt when they could do something about it?

So, that wasn’t going to happen. What other answers were there?

Well, he supposed that she had left on her own and that was the main problem. If she hadn’t left on her own then he wouldn’t have followed after her in secret and he wouldn’t have gotten attacked in the first place.

But he couldn’t be around much more without it being weird unless he…

He couldn’t…

Could he?

He figured it was worth a shot. And he should ask now. If she said no he wouldn’t have to worry about her thinking him weird, she’d just assume it was a request made while in the middle of shock and forget about it.

He hesitantly let go of his lip.

“Hey, Bean?”

She stopped pretending to watch Big Fish for the sake of giving him privacy. “Yeah?”

“Remember when… I…” He bit his lip, trying to think of a better way to phrase it, but he couldn’t. There really was no casual way to ask. He took a deep breath to steady himself. “Can I, maybe, move in with you?”

She stared at him for a moment, eyes wide, before quickly shaking her head.

He must have looked pretty put out, because she rushed to explain herself:

"You’re under emotional duress, darling, it wouldn’t be right to say yes.”

He nodded his understanding and it was silent for a bit before he eventually said: “But, if I asked tomorrow… would you say yes?”

She looked at him for a while, her face unreadable, before she gave him a hesitant smile.

“Well, I already said that you basically lived here. I suppose there wouldn’t be anything wrong with making it official.”

#stalker x stalker #timari #timmari #maribat #timinette #shutterbug #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #red robin #tim drake

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tickly-trashcan · 3 years

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Endurance Training {Todoroki x Reader}

A/N: i got your other asks, I hope I did okay with this request! chatting a little bit in the server helped a lot, so I hope I got an okay amount of what you wanted in here. I couldn’t help myself and slipped a little joke in with the code, and i feel like the game i came up with was a bit silly lol but i still hope you enjoy this one!

Summary: Class 1-A is participating in a new training exercise, and you end up paired with Todoroki. You’re determined to win the training exercise, and you’ll go to any means necessary.

Word Count: 2.5k (under the cut)

It was a relatively normal day. Or rather, as normal as a day could get in a world that you lived in, one where almost the entire population had unique superpowers called Quirks. You had a rather powerful quirk yourself, and so you decided to enroll in a Hero School, UA specifically. When you got in and were put in Class 1-A, however, you met someone who you had never expected to see again.

“Shoto?” You gasped when you had finally seen that red and white-haired boy once more, a person you hadn’t seen in what was now years.

You had known him during your childhood, you two were rather close until his father had forbidden you from seeing each other for whatever reason. You hadn’t seen him since then, but you had never forgotten about the shy boy.

He said your name barely above a whisper as he saw you, eyes wide. Everyone in the classroom looked at you two in confusion as you ran at Todoroki, giving him a quick hug and saying how happy you were to see him. He seemed a bit embarrassed, his face red, but he hugged you back anyway. He was still just as shy and reserved as he was when you had first met him.

After that, you two had acted rather normal around each other, catching up with each other after the long absence between the two of you. You sat together at lunch, walked together in the halls, and easily rekindled your friendship.

A few months into training at UA, having gotten your provisional licenses and encountered the League of Villains, you felt much stronger and more confident. Todoroki said he felt the same, and the two of you walked to class together from the dorms, where conveniently the two of you were right next door to each other.

You sat down in your seat behind Midoriya, Todoroki sitting further up front. It was probably one of the only times the two of you were separated from each other, and you could still find yourself staring at him.

Aizawa walked in, dropping some papers on his little stand at the front of the room as he addressed the class.

“Today we’ll be working on a special training exercise in Ground Omega. You’ll all be paired up with a partner, but you won’t be working together.”

The class murmured. Normally when students were paired up they would be working against other pairs, not each other, so this was a bit odd. Aizawa continued.

“This exercise will be testing your tracking ability, tactical skills, Quirk usage, and hopefully increase your resistance to torture.”

The classes murmurs went silent at the mention of torture. While it had been talked about in their classes since all heroes were at the risk of being captured and tortured, they had yet to experience anything like it. Aizawa noticed the looks on the students faces and quickly adjusted his speech.

“When I say torture I don’t mean anything serious, just try to interrogate your person in a harmless way. I’ve already assigned who will be who and which person you’re partnered with, I’ve made sure it’s at least decently fair.”

He went down the list, naming people such as Kaminari and Bakugo or Kirishima and Koda. He finally got to the bottom of the list, talking just as bored as he was with the other ones that you and Todoroki were paired, with Todoroki being on the receiving end. Todoroki turned in his chair and looked back at you, a small grin on his face. You grinned back at him, suddenly feeling rather competitive.

You went to go change into your gym uniforms, getting ready to begin the training exercise. When you and the other students arrived at Ground Omega you saw All Might waiting there, wearing his signature wide grin as he watched over the students.

“Welcome Class 1-A! Are you ready for the training exercise?” He asked cheerfully and was met with a less than excited agreement from the class. He hummed, realizing that the students must have been nervous after Aizawa’s explanation and tried to lighten the mood up a little bit.

“Don’t worry! We’re not going to be using any harmful methods or torture, it’s whatever you choose! Why, you could even tickle your person if you wanted to!”

You had originally been planning something else for Todoroki, but All Might’s words seemed to shift something in your brain. You glanced over at Todoroki, who looked over at you as you grinned at him. His normally calm expression shifted to something a little bit more nervous as he shook his head. He knew you well enough to know what you were planning, and you knew him well enough to know exactly how well it would work.

“Now, would every receiver come forward so I can tell you the code! This is a secret code that your partner will be trying to get out of you, and if you can last thirty minutes without telling them, you win! If you get the receiver to tell you the code you have to come back to the entrance and input the code into one of these boxes and press the button inside to signal that you’ve completed the exercise successfully!”

Half of the class stepped forward, including Todoroki, and listened intently as All Might whispered a code to them. He clapped his hands together as he finished up, telling a few words of advice to the receivers as well before addressing the whole class.

“The receivers get a five minute head start! After that, the rest of you will head in and try to track them down before interrogating them! Use the skills you’ve learned so far to help you.”

The class nodded as the receivers ran in. You waited a few moments before running in with the other students when the receivers head start was up. The other students took off into the forested grounds, hunting down their partners while you immediately took to the ground, feeling the surroundings.

You had honed your Quirk to the max during your time at UA. Originally, you had only been able to form certain minerals and crystals and use them to your advantage in close ranged fighting, but you had managed to feel minerals in the ground as well, which gave you a major advantage when tracking Todoroki. You placed your hands on the ground, connecting to the minerals in Ground Omega and listened. There were many noises and footsteps, but you had a hunch on one specific running pattern not far off. You went with your instincts and began to chase it down.

You stuck to the trees, watching your surroundings as you heard Kaminari wailing in the distance. Only someone as unlucky as Kaminari could’ve ended up with Bakugo as their partner, and you couldn’t help but feel pity as he screamed.

You continued on, however, and finally came up to a clearing in the woods, and you hid behind a tree as you saw Todoroki creep out from behind a bush and rush through the clearing, heading rather close to you unknowingly.

You jumped out from behind the tree, Todoroki instantly stopping in his tracks when he saw you. You ran at him and he raised his left hand, but no ice emitted. You hardened some crystals on your forearm just in case and tackled him to the ground, pinning his hands underneath your knees as you straddled his hips. He struggled, though it was clear that he already lost. You grinned at him, deciding to rub it in his face a little bit.

“Decided to show me mercy, hmm? You’re gonna regret that,” You quipped, and Todoroki grumbled, deciding to play along a little bit.

“You know I’m not going to tell you the code, right?”

You clicked your tongue, shaking your head as a grin grew on your face.

“I don’t think you realize the situation you’re in…”

Todoroki squirmed a bit more, uncomfortably this time, as if he were nervous.

“I-If I weren’t the receiver I would’ve already gotten the code out of you by now,” He huffed confidently, a small grin on his face as well, as though this were some sort of game, one that he’d definitely win.

“You know, Shoto,” You said, leaning forward slightly as you traced a finger down his neck, making him freeze. “You’re awfully cocky for someone who’s so ticklish.”

Todoroki’s eyes widened. He had been hoping you would choose anything besides that, but apparently not. He shook his head, and you chuckled.

“What, did you think I forgot? You were so sensitive when we were younger, I wonder if you are now~”

“I’m not!” Todoroki exclaimed, his voice cracking in fear as you chuckled darkly.

“Oh? Then surely you won’t mind if I try it, hmm?”

Todoroki shook his head, practically chanting “No!” over and over as your hands slowly traced over his ribs, digging in lightly as he squirmed from side to side, giggling softly.

“S-Stop!”

You grinned smugly as Todoroki looked up at you, shaking his head. “Time to find out just how ticklish you are~”

Before Todoroki could react, your hands were under his pinned arms, wiggling your fingers around as he threw his head back, squealing.

“WAHahahahait! Stopstop! Plehehehease!” Todoroki’s panicked giggles immediately erupted and began to fill the air around you, Todoroki squirming from side to side as he tried to pull his hands out from under your knees but to no avail.

He tried to clamp his arms, but he couldn’t, giving you free reign as you continued to scribble your fingers under his arms. You chuckled as his face turned slightly pink, likely from embarrassment as he continued to laugh.

“This brings back memories, doesn’t it Shoto?”

“Nohohohoho! Leave me alohohohone!”

“Give me the code and I might~”

“M-Might? GAHAhaha!” Todoroki wailed when you dug into his ribs, dancing your fingers along as you played him like an instrument. You hummed, easily drumming your fingers along before tracing them downwards, brushing over his tummy before you poked his hips, making him jump.

You grinned, grabbing onto them before giving them a firm squeeze, Todoroki throwing his head back as frantic laughter poured out from him. He bucked and squirmed, trying to wiggle out of your grasp, his hands changing temperature under your knees, which you noted.

“Gonna start fighting back? Or are you planning on giving me that code?”

Todoroki’s laughter was echoing throughout the whole area as you attacked his hips with ease, pinching above the hip and then digging your thumb into the bone, driving Todoroki up the wall with the overwhelming sensations as he was completely overcome with mirth.

He still wasn’t giving up the code though, despite your efforts. You frowned, realizing you might need to take it up a notch. You grinned, using one hand to trace a circle on his tummy, making him shriek.

“What happens if I tickle you… here?” You asked, suddenly pinching up the sides of his tummy as he wailed, arching his back as he tried to squirm away from your vicious hands.

His laughter rose in pitch and volume as you scribbled your fingers across the sensitive spot, climbing up to his lower ribs before raking your fingers back down as he tried to squirm away, your hands following him with ease.

He threw his head back and cackled as you chuckled at him, laughing a bit when he snorted and shook his head.

“Feel like telling me the code?”

“Nehehehehever!!” He screamed, digging his heels into the ground behind you. You chuckled and kept up the work on his tummy, knowing it was definitely going to be the spot to get him to break.

“This brings back memories, doesn’t it Shoto?” You teased, and he shook his head, though you could tell he remembered. How could he forget? You were his best friend back then and now, and he had told you once that he treasured every memory he had with you.

As you thought more about your past with Todoroki you remembered something. Your smug grin widened as you kept scribbling along his tummy as he thrashed beneath you, slowly cooking up a plan in your mind.

“Hey, Shoto, what’s my favorite instrument?” You asked, and Todoroki looked at you slightly confused as he continued to laugh.

“Wh-Whahahat?”

You lifted his gym uniform shirt, and his eyes widened as he realized what you were doing.

“Nonono nohohohoho!! Don’t you dahahahare!”

“Give me the code then,” You said, and he shook his head, still giggling as you pinched his sides. You shrugged, leaning down as he panicked, screaming the word “No!” over and over as you got closer to his tummy.

“What’s my favorite instrument, Shoto?” You asked with a sweet grin, halting your fingers for a moment as Todoroki giggled weakly. He knew exactly what you were up to, he remembered this game well. Though, knowing you, regardless of whether he picked the right instrument or not he knew you would still tickle him, anything to get the code.

“P-Piano?” He guessed and you made a buzzing noise.

“Wrong! Tuba!” You said. You quickly pressed your lips on his tummy, blowing hard as he screeched, your fingers on his sides as you pressed in specific patterns, much like playing a tuba. That was how the game went, whichever instrument you chose was the one you’d play if he guessed wrong, and it never failed to drive him absolutely bonkers.

You blew raspberry after raspberry on his tummy until it was pink, your fingers playing his sides like the valves of a tuba as he practically screamed with laughter beneath you, kicking his legs as he shook his head frantically.

“Okahahay! OKAHahahay! The code, I’ll give yohohohou the cohohodeeeee!” He finally squealed out after a few moments of the tuba torture. You pulled your hands and head away from him, folding your arms across your chest as you watched Todoroki’s chest heaved as he greedily took in the air around him. You waited for him to speak, but after getting a bit impatient with him you started scribbling your fingers on his tummy again.

“I’m gohohohonna tell you! Stahahap!” He squealed, and you let up, Todoroki letting out one final wheeze before speaking again.

“T-The code is 420,” He said weakly, and you smiled happily, patting his cheek before getting off of him, running off to the gate of Ground Omega. All Might stood at the entrance, along with a few students as you went over to a pink colored box and input the code that Todoroki had told you, making the box pop open as you pressed the button. A little thumbs-up popped out of the box as All Might pat you on the back.

“Congratulations on successfully completing the exercise!”

You chuckled and rubbed the back of your neck shyly, turning back to face the forest as you saw Todoroki walking towards the gate, having fully regained his composure from his previous wreckage.

You grinned and walked over to him, chirping happily about how you had won as he blushed, turning his head away from you. You laughed and poked his tummy again, making him squeak. He glared at you and you only laughed, making him smile softly.

“I’ll get you next time,” He said, and you chuckled.

“Sure you will~”

#todoroki x reader #todoroki #bnha #☀️ anon #tickle fic #reader insert

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the-bau-quinjet · 3 years

Text

Sore

I don’t love what this idea turned into, because it was supposed to be lighthearted, but it really spiraled. I will say, I like the ending.

Summary: Reader breaks down after a tough case. Spencer is there to help.

Warnings: mentions on child abuse, domestic abuse, sexual assault, unhealthy coping mechanisms, therapy

Word Count: 2930

She didn’t mean to overdo it, but sometimes it’s inevitable. It’s her only escape.

The team just finished up a domestic violence cult case in Laramie, Wyoming. It took six days for them to even realize the cult aspect, having been trying to connect the victims to one offender. The case was draining for everyone, but especially for her.

Everyone in the BAU has some kind of past trauma. Nobody randomly decides to do this kind of work for a living without some significant inspiration. Over her time in the BAU, Y/N has come to learn about these traumas and how they’ve shaped the people around her. She has yet to share hers though. Not because she doesn’t trust them, but rather because she only ever talks about it to her therapist. She’s made significant progress in coping with her trauma, but she hasn’t worked through it enough to bring it up herself.

Of course, keeping it bottled up doesn’t work so she found a way to relieve the stress. Exercise. It’s never been a problem before now. She’s never overdone it before. If a case has her thinking about it, or she’s having a particularly bad day, she’ll do a HIIT or fully body workout until she’s tired enough that her brain shuts off.

Her therapist is working with her to limit the bad days. Honestly, since joining the BAU her bad days have been rather infrequent. There’s just too much else to worry about for her to think about her own problems.

But this case hit too close to home. Every new victim and every new piece of evidence reminded Y/N of what it was like growing up with abusive parents. She went into foster care at 15. Three years later, she went to college and did everything in her power to forget it.

But history has a way of repeating itself. Her college boyfriend hurt her. It started small. He grew controlling, accused her of cheating, and then tried to beat the “truth” out of her. She finally left him, only to wind up with another guy who wouldn’t take no as an answer. So she stopped dating. She threw herself into her work, trying to rid the world of men like those of her past. That’s what lead her to the BAU.

The group of profilers on the jet could all tell something was off, but Y/N isn’t one to be pushed into opening up. They know she’ll come to them when she’s ready to talk about it. Whatever “it” is. So, rather than poking and prodding, each member shows they are there for her in their own way.

Derek and Emily each give her a hug before departing, something reserved for after especially difficult cases. Rossi squeezes her shoulder, much how she would imagine a loving parent to. JJ offers a kind smile, the one that always brings you joy, and reassuring eyes before heading out for the day. Hotch gives her less paperwork than everyone else. Penelope sends her extra videos of cute animals to lift her spirits. And Spencer stays by her side for the entire flight. Normally, Spencer would sprawl out on the sofa to catch up on the sleep he always lacks. Instead, he sits beside Y/N and offers her the blanket he typically uses, calming her nerves with the gentle swishing of pages being turned in his book of the hour.

With everything on her mind, she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep. She should call her therapist, but they aren’t landing until 9:30 pm and she knows Dr. Robbins has a family of her own. So, she treats it like she used to treat a bad day. She finds a workout to do, and puts every last ounce of energy into the different exercises.

Only, it doesn’t work like it used to. After completing the nearly hour long workout, her mind is still whirring with the pictures from the evidence board. Every time she closes her eyes she sees her father’s face, and hears his drunken yelling. Her mother in the background, unbothered because she only had Y/N so he would have a new punching bag.

So, she finds another workout. And then another. And then another. After three more hours, she’s finally exhausted her brain into tuning out the memories long enough for her to sleep.

She sleeps for most of Saturday, waking only long enough to shower and eat dinner. Sunday morning, the memories are back. So, she’s back to working out.

She knows in her head that it isn’t healthy, but the logical part of her brain isn’t exactly functioning at its highest level. All she’s focused on is making the pain go away. If turning the emotional pain into physical pain is what it takes, then so be it. She’d rather have the aching muscles.

All of that, lead her to now. It’s Monday morning and she can barely walk like a normal person. Every step requires more energy than the last. Hell, she can’t even sit down without falling into the chair.

The elevator doors spring open, revealing the glass doors that lead to the BAU bullpen. She walks in as best she can, tossing her bag on her desk with a dull thud. Of course, she’s later than normal and so Spencer and Morgan are sitting at their desks, watching as she throws herself into her chair.

“Hi Y/N…” Spencer trails off when he sees the bags under her eyes and notices her stiff posture. “Um, are you alright?” Spencer’s puppy like concern warms her heart.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just did a little too much at the gym this weekend is all. I’ll be fine in a few days.” She tries to hide the underlying emotional stress behind why she did too much. Morgan can tell she’s hiding something though, even if he is way off base about what it is.

“Yeah, the gym.” Morgan snorts his response, cutting Spencer off before he could start rambling about how to combat the negative effects of too much exercise and simultaneously drawing the attention of Emily and JJ who were reentering the bullpen after getting coffee.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” JJ questions before Y/N can defend herself.

“Little mama over here is sore from too much time at ‘the gym’.” It’s clear to her, and nearly everyone else in the room, that Morgan thinks she is sore from being absolutely railed. Suddenly all eyes are on her. It’s just too much for her to take. The combination of mental and physical exhaustion crossed with not wanting to talk about it causes her to break.

She’s not sure what thought process her brain is following when she replies. Actually, she’s pretty confident her brain isn’t functioning at all when she starts speaking. Her words are painfully quiet, lacking the typical edge one would expect from someone so mentally and physically exhausted. She sounds broken. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I was in the gym for four hours Friday night and seven more yesterday, so excuse me if I’m a little bit stiff. It’s hard to work in time to stretch afterward when you’ve finally exhausted yourself enough to sleep without having to worry about remembering-.” With tears in her eyes, she cuts herself off, pushes herself from her chair, and starts the walk toward Hotch’s office, stopping to whisper her gratitude to Reid. “Spence, thank you for checking in on me.”

Morgan, JJ, Prentiss, and Reid share confused glances as she opens and closes the door to Hotch’s office without even knocking.

“Hotch, I think I need to go home. I- I need to talk to someone and I can’t do that if I’m here.” She manages to mutter out the words without fully breaking down, but Hotch can still clearly see something is wrong.

“If that’s what you need to do, please go ahead. I just want you to know that we’re here for you too. You’ve been part of this team for a little over two years now. None of us want you to feel like you have to keep it all to yourself. Unfortunately nightmares come with the job, but I want you to know we all-” He stops talking as the tears begin to stream down her face. Rising from his seat, he walks around his desk to offer her support.

Without even sparing it a second thought, Y/N collapses into his arms. She’s too exhausted to hide her emotions anymore. It’s all become too much.

“I just can’t keep it in anymore. I feel like I’m hiding a piece of me from all of you, and I just don’t want to anymore.” It’s not exactly how she pictured letting it all out, but it makes sense. She’s hit a wall and there’s no way forwards but through.

“Shh, it’s okay. What do you need?” Hotch is protective over his entire team, but something about Y/N makes him feel like an older brother. Like it’s his job to protect her from anything and everything he can.

“I just want to go home. I need a break from remembering it all.” Hotch nods in understanding, reaching for his coat.

“I’ll take you now.”

“Actually, can Spencer take me? I want to tell him first. And can you tell Morgan I’m sorry? It wasn’t fair to say that. He didn’t know.” Hotch guides her out of his office, promising that Morgan wouldn’t hold it against her.

“Reid, take L/N home.” Spencer nods in understanding, already reaching for Y/N’s keys since he takes the metro.

It feels like hours have gone by, but it couldn’t have been more than 30 minutes before Spencer was sitting next to her on her couch in her apartment. They didn’t talk at all on the drive. Tears were still falling down her cheeks, but at a much less alarming rate.

“You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. We can just sit here.” Spencer has never felt less equipped to handle a situation. His years of learning everything there is to know haven’t prepared him for seeing the one person he cares about more than anyone else in the world so broken.

“No. I- I want to tell you. But I need you to do me a favor afterward.” She sniffles, slowly looking into his eyes.

“I’ll do anything you need me to.” His words are so sincere, it almost brings about another round of sobs.

“After I tell you, I need you to tell everyone else. I just know I won’t be able to force myself to relive it more than once, so if I tell you, then you can tell everyone else because-”

“I’ll remember exactly what you say.” He nods to himself, thinking she picked him for his memory rather than because of any potential feelings.

“Well, yeah. But, also I wanted you to hear it from me. I wanted to tell you because I couldn’t bear the thought of you hearing it from anyone else. I wanted to look into your eyes when I say it all for the first time without being with my therapist because I know you will still look at me the same way afterward. You won’t treat me any different because you know what it’s like to feel like the baby of the group and as much as everyone else cares, with you it’s different. I just know you’ll understand what I need in a way nobody else will because you’ve always been able to read me, even when I tried to hide it.” She manages a weak smile in his direction, taking a deep breath to prevent anymore ramblings.

“I don’t… I don’t know what to say. I- thank you for trusting me enough to be here for you.” For the first time since meeting Y/N, Spencer feels like she might feel the same way about him that he feels about her. Of course, now isn’t the time to act on it, but it still fills him with a confidence he would have otherwise been lacking.

Before she starts talking again, Y/N reaches for Spencer’s hand. An action he would quickly come to understand is a big deal for her.

“As far back as I can remember, I never had anyone who cared about me. My dad, he would hit my mom. When she got pregnant, she saw it as a way out. He stopped hitting her because she told him once I was born, he would have his own personal punching bag, but I had to actually be born for that to happen. I don’t really know when he started hitting me. If I was an infant or a toddler or whatever. But it’s all I can remember of them.” Spencer begins rubbing circles into her hand with his thumb when he hears her breathing speed up.

“It was like that until I managed to tell one of my teachers there was something wrong. I was fifteen when I was placed in foster care. I switched between homes until I went to college on scholarship.” Spencer does his best to provide comfort to you, but he can tell there’s more to the story.

“Freshmen year of college a met a guy. We started dating, and I thought I found someone who cared, ya know? But, he started to get angry at the smallest things. He would lash out, break things. One day he started hitting me, forcing me to do things.” She takes a shaky breath before continuing. “I was more prepared this time though. I had a therapist I could call. She helped me work up the courage to leave him. But then right after graduating I met another guy and it all turned out the same.” Silent tears pour down her face as she continues.

“I felt trapped. Like there was no way for me to escape the cycle. No matter what I did differently I kept meeting people who hurt me to deal with their own pain. I gave it all up, figured I’d never find people who would care about me. I focused on work, made it to the BAU. On bad days, I would work out until I was so tired I couldn’t remember my own name let alone the things they had done to me. Then when I met all of you, it felt too good to be true. There was this whole team of people who suddenly cared about me. It was hard at first, to accept that it was real. But you have to know I never thought any of you would hurt me, it was just in my head that I would never have this kind of familial bond with anyone.

This last case, I don’t know what it was about it, but I couldn’t stop seeing the evidence boards. The faces of women who were passed around from man to man as objects to abuse. So, I fell back into my old habit. Only, it didn’t work like it used to so I just kept going and going until I could escape.” The tears slowed as she managed to get everything off her chest. All that could be heard in the room was her ragged breaths.

“Y/N, I… I can’t imagine how difficult that was to share.” Spencer shifted closer to her, but not too close in case she didn’t want the touch.

“I’ve always felt like the team- like you would understand. I’ve been working on it in therapy actually. Figuring out a way to tell you all, but I guess I hit the proverbial wall first...” She’s shaking her head as she looks at the floor.

“Hey, none of that. I know self-deprecation when I see it, and I will not tolerate it from you.” His words carry a gentle conviction. “You are truly one of the most incredible people I’ve ever met. I’ve seen you take down unsubs three times your size with pure physical strength. I’ve also seen you talk an unsub down, saving countless lives without laying a hand on them. Never doubt that you are strong enough for this job, because you are one of the strongest people I know.”

Spencer’s words bring tears to her eyes, but the happy kind this time. She throws her arms around him, snuggling as close as she can. Spencer, at first surprised by the contact, freezes. He quickly melts into her embrace, rubbing circles into her back until she falls asleep.

Spencer manages to fill the team in via text, explaining enough that everyone understands what happened without having to go into too much detail. He helps her move to her bedroom, trying to prevent any more soreness. When she asks him to stay, he lays down by her side.

The next morning she wakes up cuddled next to Spencer with several texts from her BAU family. Rossi invited everyone to his house for dinner, an offer she greatly appreciates.

That night, the team shows her what it feels like to have a family over pasta and wine, a classic combination. In the future, they’ll continue to show her what family really is.

Spencer will show her what it feels like to be in a healthy relationship. He’ll show her how it feels to be loved without living in constant fear. She’ll show him what it means to be loved for who you are.

They’ll show each other what it means to be happy.

tag list:

@mac99martin

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds x reader #Criminal Minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n

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bimsha · 3 years

Note

Hello! Can I have an Epiphany request for:

Anime - K Project

Character - Hisui Nagare

Song - Always in my heart by Tamaru Yamada

https://youtu.be/ntqxI9I6Opo

This is my first request in your blog and I look forward of how the request will turn out to be! Thank you and take care always! 🖤

Always In My Heart (Hisui Nagare x Reader)

"The life it's not for comparing things So i hold both of light and shadow"

Song : Always in My Heart but Tamaru Yamada

The sky was heavy with clouds, glooming over his head with their unshed raindrops. The tombs in the cemetery shadowed by the gloom standing in perfect lines holding in themselves a heavy sorrow, a sad story behind them. There was no one in sight, except for an old man a few feet away staring at a tomb. His thin, grey hair ruffling in the soft breeze passing them. He broke his gaze from the man back to the tomb in front of him. Gleaming even in the shadowy surroundings. He knelt and placed the bunch of white lilies in front of the tomb. She loved white lilies.

Six months ago, he was woken up to the blinding ceiling above him and the smell of antiseptic, a bitter smell for his sensitive nose. He moved his head to the right and immediately squinted at the blinding light filtering through the translucent curtains. Sitting there on the white windowsill was a vase with fresh flowers. Who would even bother? He thought glumly moving from the creaking hospital bed to a sitting position. He didn’t remember what happened. His last memory was charging at the Red King until his vision blackened. He needed more strength. His name was Nagare Hisui: The Green King, for certain people. He was supposed to be powerful. Powerful than the man he is right now and he was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to be sitting inside a lonely hospital room. Hisui struggled for a while and finally managed to sit down. There was no one inside the room. He didn’t mind the silence but it was suffocating sometimes. He didn’t have his phone, nor had a way to contact the others.

Hence, he took the best decision he could at the moment (his doctors would probably think it’s the worst decision) He made an attempt to move and managed to place his feet on the cold floor. The male stood up, one hand tightly gripping the bedpost while the other freezing in mid-air as he tried to balance. The truth was, he didn’t use his legs at all. And rarely moved. That was his way of preserving power inside him, and he didn’t blame his legs when they gave him little support and dragged him back to the bed with a pained grunt. He’ll need to try a bit more before he could stand straight on the ground. He moved his hands, planting them firmly on his mattress trying to move again when the corner of his eyes caught movement. Hisui looked up, expecting a doctor or a nurse, but from the crack of his slightly opened door was a girl, probably around his age, looking at him with beady eyes. Hisui frowned, “Who is it?”

She looked startled by the sudden attention. He heard something fall and a not-so-pretty curse soon following the sound. She collected whatever thing fell and opened the door using her elbow. It was only then that he saw the crutches and her bandaged foot. “What are you doing?”

The girl frowned. “I heard someone groaning in pain, I just came to look”

Hisui turned his gaze to her bandaged foot and then looked back at her. “And you’re supposed to be out of bed because?”

She rolled her eyes, “Because I was on my way to the exercise rooms. I need to make sure I’m all better and you’re trying so hard to run away because?”

Hisui glared at her. He had always been a man of few words and a real-life conversation was strictly ignored except for his closest people. “I’m just trying to get up”

She gestured to the corner of the room. Hisui followed her gaze to see the familiar wheelchair. “I think that probably has something to do with your inability to walk at the moment”

Hisui would’ve flushed but he barely constrained himself. He was feeling extra emotional and angry this morning. Probably a side effect of pain killers and he blamed Tenkei for bringing him here and not their usual hideout. She doesn’t seem to notice his overwhelming emotional status as she looks around. “Do you need help?”

Hisui almost snapped back a no but hesitated. He did want to get out of this smell and this building. He’d give anything to get some fresh air. “Yes” after a beat, he added, “please”

The girl walked to him with the aid of her crutches and looped one of her arms around him helping the male to walk towards the wheelchair. It was obviously a bad idea, because one, Hisui put his full weight on the girl because he was barely able to walk and two, you shouldn’t ask help to walk from a person using crutches. The almost knocked over the wheelchair and crashed to the floor. “You said you could help” Hisui said, wondering why he was stupid enough to ask her for help.

“I overestimated my abilities to help you, pardon” She grinned from her place on the floor. She didn’t seem to be least bothered by the fact that both of them were on the floor. And none of them had the ability to walk properly. “Great, just great,” he muttered under his breath. The doctors soon rushed in and helped them from their awkward position and both of them got a heavy warning from the doctors. Hisui scowled at them, looking away. The girl apologized to them again, turning to leave the room when he finally realized he hadn’t even gotten the name of that annoying human being. But before he could talk, she was gone. He could barely make out her outline, limping towards a door just a few feet away from his own hospital room. The rest of the day he finally decided to bear in the hospital for a bit longer. When Tenkei arrived in the afternoon with Sukuna he did his best to compose himself without lunging at him like a hungry wolf. (Not that he was in any status to do that anyway) Tenkei apologized profusely, trying to make amends with the Green King while Sukuna stood behind him making faces and giggling uncontrollably. According to him, seeing Nagare Hisui inside a hospital was a once in a lifetime chance. After the visiting hours were over, they both bid farewell to the male. Tenkei promised him he’d talk about the discharge with the authorities. He barely looked at the food they brought him. Instead, he found himself wondering about the weird girl he met earlier. It was one hell of a first impression she made.

When the nurse came to give him his medication, he actually found himself asking about her. The nurse smiled, “Oh, you must be talking about (Y/n). She had made quite an impression it seems. She’s friendly with everyone around here. She’s quite talkative”

“I can see that” He mumbled, groaning. "Why is she here?”

“She’s an athlete, had a bad injury”

Hisui wanted to know more details and it was strange that he was pestering about this girl he barely knew about but there was an effect on her. Like she had this magnetic force that drew people in. Hisui had to agree, she was pretty weird. He stopped asking questions and just followed the nurse's instructions focusing on getting discharged instead. But it turned out he’d had to spend a couple of days because they had to run a few tests before releasing him. He didn’t have to wait alone for long, because there she was, waving him by the door. “Can I come in?”

Hisui watched her for a second. His expression was passive and cold. For a moment he wanted to tell her to leave but another part of him wanted to invite her in. He settled with a shrug which the girl interpreted to be a welcoming gesture. She limped towards his bed, “Want to see whether today you can actually get to that wheelchair?”

Hisui shrugged. It was closer to his bed than it was before. He gave it a try, and it certainly worked. She grinned, gesturing towards the door. “Let’s go out. Seems like you could use some fresh air”

As much as he wanted not to accept, the sound of fresh air seemed divine. He followed her in his wheelchair as the girl led him towards an open balcony on their floor. It was empty except for a woman sitting in the lobby adjoining the balcony, staring at a magazine. The quietly passed her and stepped into the open balcony, feeling the fresh air surrounding them. “This is heaven” She muttered, leaning against the railing. Her crutches resting beside her.

Hisui stared at her, confused. “Why are you doing this? I don’t even know you”

She smiled, “You’re the only person who’s closer to my age in here. Everyone’s old. So I thought it'd be great to get to know you!” Her voice was cheerful and… magnetic? He couldn’t place it. But there was a way she talked as if she had been your friend for years. Hisui didn’t really associate with people and he had no idea about social cues. The girl standing in front of him, who was nothing but a stranger was trying to be friends with him. Is this how normal human beings function? He wondered cluelessly.

“How can you be so cheerful when your leg is like that? Aren’t you an athlete?”

“Seems like someone had done his homework” She teased good naturedly. “My leg will get better. I can go back to the track field soon after. I’m counting days until I do.”

“Is it worth it?” He asked, “You’d get injured again” It was almost hypocritical that he was asking this. He himself had given up on his own trying to achieve his goals. What mattered to him were the goals and his ambitions. His health was one of the least things in his mind.

“Don’t jinx it.” She shoved her hands into her pockets. “I’d get better and next time I’d be careful. Running is my dream. What’s life without a dream?”

“An easy one” Hisui blurted out. “You need a goal, not a dream”

She gave him a confused look, “What do you mean?”

“Life is not something to enjoy” Hisui found himself saying. He didn’t know why he was talking about this deep topic with a stranger. But there he was, talking about his ideologies just because he felt she was going after something like that. “It’s a responsibility we all have to carry no matter how bad the outcome will be.”

She was quiet for a moment, “Wow, that’s deep.” (Y/n) sat down on the bench propping her leg on it, looking for a comfortable position. “You can enjoy life, Hisui” He raised his brow when she smiled sheepishly. “I asked your name from one of the nurses. Anyway, as I was saying, don’t you think it’s better to enjoy the life you have than to just think of it as a responsibility? There’s much more to it than you think”

“Don’t you like to be powerful and have control of your life, Y/n? To have your own hidden power?”

She laughed, “You don’t need a power to control your own life Hisui. Your life is yours. What you do with it is your choice.” She sighed, looking at the sky above them, clear blue like a crystal. “It’s sad you think your life is just some game or a responsibility. There’s so much more to it”

Hisui was not convinced but he didn’t talk anymore. He was done with expressing himself deeply for the day. He didn’t know how she was able to get him to talk at all. Did she secretly have a power? Was she serious about not wanting a power? He didn’t find answers to his questions but he did find an annoying friend. After his routine medication, Y/n bursts into his room with a grin. “I’ve got something!” She announced, jumping to his bed, WITHOUT his consent. She was close that he could smell her hair. He almost drew away when she dropped a game console in his hand. “I’ve got the staff to let us play video games!” Her voice was cheery, almost as if she had won the gold medal at the Olympics. Hisui stared dumbly at the device when the screen in his room lit up.

“You don’t know what you’re signing up for" Hisui said quietly, gripping on his console. “You’re going to lose”

She huffed, offended by his remark. “The confidence. Let’s see that after the game sweetheart. I’ve got this one”

Actually, she was bad at it. She was so bad at video games that Hisui almost laughed. But her determination was incredible. “One more. I think I got it” She said, leaning forward, squinting at the screen. “Just a little more push”

Hisui shook his head as the screen displayed Game Over. She groaned, falling back to the bed as if it was her own. For the first time in his life, Hisui didn’t mind someone he barely knew was right beside him, playing video games and losing like a pro. “Told you”

“You’re just too good at this” She muttered, sitting back up. “Teach me your ways, sensei”

“No”

“Rude” She groaned, “One more game?”

“You’re going to lose, what’s the difference?”

“It’s fun?”

“It is not”

“You smiled though” She said with a cocky grin. Hisui was quite sure he DID NOT smile.

“I didn’t” He added firmly, crossing his arms. “You’re imagining things”

“Isn’t this fun?” This time Hisui actually answered the question.

“A bit, I guess”

“What do you think about life now?” She asked hopefully. Hisui actually snorted at that question.

“Life is not a video game.”

She scowled, nudging him with her elbow. The bandages were off her leg, Hisui noticed, blinking. And she was not even wearing the hospital gown. How did he miss those changes? “Are you out of the hospital?”

“Took you exactly two hours to notice, congrats! But yes I am. Still not allowed in the fields but I’m trying on my own.” She patted her leg. “I’d be up and running in no time”

“Don’t you get sick of it?” Hisui asked, leaning back. “Do you think any of this has any meaning at all?"

She leaned back with him. Their heads were just a few centimeters apart from each other. They both stared at the ceiling. “Does it matter? As long as I know my dreams, as long as I can be with the people who are precious to me, I don’t care.” She turned her head to look at his eyes. “Life is not something you calculate and walk through. Take it as you can and try your best and you’ll see the light at the end of the tunnel, that’s what my mom told me.”

Precious people, Hisui thought, moving his gaze back to the ceiling. His mind instantly landed on the small group he always had with him. The only family he ever had. Hisui loved and cared for them, he really did. But was it enough? Y/n laughed beside him. “You got your thinking face on. Stop being so hard on yourself”

“I am not being hard on myself”

“You are being hard on yourself. You never smile, you’re always like this” She made a ridiculous expression on her face.

Hisui leaned in and flicked her forehead, groaning. “I do not” He felt his lips curl into a smile. A genuine smile that lightened his heart. She truly had this aura around him that cheered others up in an instant.

“See? You look really good when you’re smiling”

Hisui scowled, “Shut up”

Their conversation was cut short by Yukari, who walked in with a handful of bags and a bunch of flowers being the gentleman he is. Hisui’s eyes instantly landed on the flowers, white lilies. “Aren’t those for funerals?” He didn’t care Yukari saw him with the girl, he had his eyes on the flowers.

Y/n slapped his arm, standing up. “Those are white lilies!” She exclaimed looking at him. “They symbolize purity and rebirth. Like I can go back to the field again!” She twirled around with a laugh. “Stop seeing negativity and start looking for something positive young man” She bowed to Yukari who looked rather impressed.

“The young lady knows what she’s talking about. Think positively Hisui”

She smiled, a gentle smile that was always there when she talked with him. She waved, “I’d see you two around then. And you” She pointed a threatening finger. “Don’t you dare say anything about white lilies, they are my favourite flowers”

Yukari raised his brow with an amused smile as she left the room and Hisui found himself already missing her. After that, Y/n didn’t come around for a few days. Hisui quietly wondered whether she had finally gotten enough of him when she walked in just the day before his discharge. “Hello, missed me?”

“No” Hisui answered right off the bat.

“Liar liar pants on fire” She sang along, walking in. Her hair moving to her moments, the curls at the end bouncing with rhythm. He didn’t know when he started to notice the little things about her. “Wanna go to the rooftop?”

Hisui shrugged. He had done some exercise the past few days and now with some help he could actually move. Y/n wrapped one of her arms around him helping him up. They both took the lift to reach the rooftop. As soon as they reached there, Hisui collapsed onto a bench with an exhausted sigh. She sat down beside him. Both of them were welcomed by the blue sky, patterned with white clouds. The breeze around them was comforting. “I finally started practicing again” she said. There was this glint of excitement in her eyes that Hisui never saw when looking in the mirror. She was actually passionate about what she loved.

“Good for you” He said, allowing himself to be happy for her.

“What are you going to do when you leave? I don’t know a thing about you”

“I don’t know. Just continue what I have been doing, I guess.” He stated with a sigh. He had no idea what he wanted to do anymore. She had changed something in him. “Don’t you get scared?” He asked, “There will always be someone better than you no matter how hard you try. Don’t you think everyone should have the same powers and talents?”

She shrugged, “If you keep comparing yourself to others your whole life, you’re not living it, you’re judging yourself. The best is to keep trying your best and treat yourself like you deserve everything you have right now. If everyone had equal things the world would be so boring. When I see someone powerful than me, it gives me a thrill to try harder. Gives me a purpose. I’m going to reach that level”

The wind carried the long locks of her hair behind her. Hisui felt a tingling sensation to reach out and tuck it behind her ear. “Aren’t you afraid Y/n? You’d lose yourself if you just kept pushing yourself like that”

She turned around to look at him and laughed nudging their shoulders together. “Silly, I know who I am” She placed a hand on her chest, proudly huffing. “Right here in my heart I’ll always know me”

Hisui hummed, not answering. He turned back to the sky as both sat there in the comfortable silence, reminiscing the words they had spoken, the depths they had gone into each other’s souls. After some time, they decided to head back. The air was getting colder around them. She stood by the door looking at him for a moment. “I’ll see you tomorrow! I’d come back with chocolates to celebrate you getting discharged!”

Hisui’s heart skipped a beat and he nodded. She waved at him with the same grin painting her face. He watched her skipping her way towards the lift and waited for it.

That was the last time he saw her.

When he got discharged the next day, his sapphire blue eyes scanned for her figure but found none. The days following were only silence. He grew impatient and finally decided to seek her out. When Tenkei was informed about her address, he went to her place to see her. He had this rare excitement playing upon his heart. A woman opened the door and when he asked her name, the woman’s face crumpled like a sheet of paper. She burst into tears. Hisui stood by the door, stunned when a man came to the door and invited him in. They took him into a room but there was no Y/n. There was only a picture of her sitting on a low table, a vase of white lilies in front of her smiling picture. The same gentle smile. A car crash had stolen her life. The life of the girl who had been the most lively person he had ever met.

He placed the white lilies on the ground in front of the grave stone. Briefly brushing his fingers over the gray tombstone. He crouched in front of it and smiled. A sad watery smile. Silently thanking her for her words that showed him a new path in life. Thanking her for the life lessons she gave him without even knowing. To the moments they shared that he actually enjoyed. Even though brief, she was the most significant person he had ever met in life. Kind, cheerful and beautiful. He wondered what would’ve happened if he was brave enough that day. To talk about his feelings. To tell her that she’s beautiful. If he could’ve gotten a few more moments, he would’ve kissed her lips and told her how amazing she is. How she saved his life.

He walked out of the cemetery with a sad smile. Life does twist in the most painful ways. When someone’s gone, we start regretting the things we were unable to say. Things we were unable to express. It’s just how life works. Y/n’s words echoed in his heart.

“Right here in my heart I’ll always know me”

"I don't know the meaning of life But I know what's truly precious The way it's leading me to be in love No fear I can find me always in my heart"

I have nothing to say myself besides saying I'm really sorry for taking months to do this. I don't blame you if you have forgotten my existence. ;-; I have been lazy af and the full blame is on me. I'm really sorry for making you wait for so long! ))): I'm really sorry again.

#k #K prject #Green clan #Hisui Nagare #Major character death #Sukuna #Tenkei #Yukari #x reader #k project x reader #Hisui nagare x reader #Epiphany #Always in my heart #female reader oneshot #fanfic

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voiceswithoutlips · 3 years

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Fallen - Chapter One

— pairing: OT7 x Reader (F) — genre: Fantasy AU, Vampire AU, Soulmate AU, Fluff, Eventual Smut, ANGST , Poly!BTS — word count: 2.8k — Rating: M — warnings: minor character death, slight gore — beta: Thank you so much @taegularities and @unoriginal-username15432 for all you feedback <3

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— chapter summary:

The people you killed, they haunted your dreams. They would say to you, “What you do always comes back to you, there is no escape from this miserable life.” It was true, there was no escape. In your world there was only darkness, sorrow, fear, hate and death, always death.

— A/N: It is I, your idiotic author. Welcome to my blog <3

Ch. 2

The sound of rain was like a roaring beast. It was almost midnight and the roads were lonely. You stood there in an alley facing a madman, uh, mad-vampire. His eyes were glowing red; he was wearing a dirty grey cloak on his rag like cloth. His brown hair had gotten messy when he’d run away from you but there he was, still as a dead body, waiting for you to attack. There were thick walls on both sides of the alley and behind him was a dead end. He was trapped.

“Lockham, why don’t you come back with me? That way I won’t have to kill you,” you suggested to the psycho killer vampire who stood a mere ten feet away from you. There was no way for him to run so maybe he would attack. You weighed your options - fight? That would’ve been nice; at least your body would’ve gotten some exercise.

He laughed. “You think you can win? Destiny is waiting for you Hunter,” he said in an impressive voice. Another one of those ‘destiny’ believers. Apparently the Goddess had a plan for us all, not that you had much faith in it. Gods don't care about who kills whom or who eats what, they’re more concerned about their own entertainment. You’d never put much faith in any higher power, God or not, nobody gave a shit.

“You’ve killed people Lockham, you’ve been a very naughty vampire and now it’s time for your punishment,”you said as a teacher would say to a naughty kid. He took a step back.

“Who are you to punish me?” he mocked, showing you his blood covered teeth. He was just having a meal when you found him and then you two had a nice chase. You were glad that he ran, you wanted to stretch out your legs anyway.

“Exactly, I’m no one,” you said and took a step forward; he took a step back simultaneously and vanished. What? Vanished? How? You walked forward to investigate and sighed. How careless of you. There was a hole, he fell into the sewer. He must have used cloaking so that it would look like he vanished. The only thing he forgot was to close the hole. You shook your head, you hated wet places! You jumped down and landed lightly on your feet, without making a sound, perfect.

You were getting bored of chasing him, it was almost dawn and you needed your beauty sleep. You took a deep breath and pulled out your silver dagger. It was your favorite weapon. Silver was deadly to vampires. It was very pretty with a finely carved snake on the handle with emeralds where the eyes should be; a gift from someone you had known a long time ago. You closed your eyes and let your mind wander through the tunnels. Just like your immunity to silver, your telepathy was stronger than centuries old vampires and you could perform magic. You were a half-witch after all.

You found him running through the tunnels. As soon as your mind touched him, he froze. You were inside his mind now. Reading someone’s mind was nothing like watching a movie or reading a book. It was like waking up from a dream, you don’t remember what you saw or heard but the thing that you remember is the feeling, the essence of the dream. Every being has a certain essence, unique to them. Like walls that you can’t see or touch, but you know they’re there. You could clearly see the tunnel before you, but it was like a distant memory, you were no longer there.

You were in a room, an old room with cobwebs and dust. It smelled of something rotten, like a thousand dead rats. There were worn out clothes hanging from the ceiling - correction, there was no ceiling, just clothes hanging midair and swaying with the wind, except there was no wind. At one corner sat two rusty iron chairs. The window with broken glass showed a full moon.

There was an old cupboard on the wall with the yellow wallpaper. It was white as if someone had carved it from bone. There were noises coming from the cupboard, screeching, screaming, the cry of a baby, the soothing voice of a mother, someone’s last words. A shudder ran through your body. I will never ever do this again, you promised yourself.

You heard a creak from behind and you swiftly turned back. There he was, sitting in a corner, the little boy. He held a tattered grey cloak in his hands. His body was folded at impossible angles. He was white as a sheet, there was no blood in his body. He was thin with brittle bones. Dull brown eyes in a sunken face held unimaginable terror.

He looked up at you. “I’m tired, I want to sleep,” he whispered and quickly stole a glance at the cupboard.

“Then why don’t you sleep?” you whispered back, clearly not wanting to wake anything in there. Yeah, getting into someone’s mind was a nice thing, you could get full control over them... but there was a catch. If something went wrong in that mind or if you failed to escape in time, then you’d be trapped there forever, or die. You were pretty sure that you didn’t want to be trapped in this mind, not here.

“They don’t let me sleep, they keep me awake so that I could bring more and more food for them,” he replied, pointing a finger at the cupboard. Slowly, you understood what he was saying. ‘One without a soul feeds on other’s souls,’ the thought crossed your mind, not a good one.

“What if you don’t bring them food?” You already knew the answer but you asked anyway, maybe just to confirm it.

“I’ll go mad,” he whispered back with horrified eyes.

“Come to me, I’ll help you sleep.” The words left your lips, the real ones which were still attached to your face. Lockham turned back and slowly walked towards you. You could hear his heavy footsteps in the tunnel. At last he took the last turn and there he stood right in front of you. His eyes were blank. It was like there was no soul in his body, no life. You had him entirely under your control. If you told him to do ballet, he would dance like a professional, but you weren't a sadist. Life had already tortured him enough.

“Come forward,” you said softly, the sooner it ended the better. He walked forward and your silver dagger slashed through his throat, severing his spine, killing him in a second. Blood splashed and soaked his body. It was a merciful death, you had seen worse. There are worse things than death in this world. Death was just an easy escape.

You stood there for a moment, looking at him, wishing that the outcome would’ve been different. Were you feeling sorry for him? No, you were feeling sorry for yourself. You were a fifty year old vampire and in all your years as a hunter you’d killed hundreds of criminals, but you had never been able to save one.

People knew and people talked. Some said that you were cursed; you were the representative of death, the spawn of darkness. As a result, the council only gave you high profile cases, criminals that were too far gone to be saved. It was always death. The people you killed, they haunted your dreams. They would say to you, “What you do always comes back to you, there is no escape from this miserable life.” It was true, there was no escape. In your world there was only darkness, sorrow, fear, hate and death, always death.

You pulled out your cell phone and called the police. They would take care of the body. You bent down to leave a tracker near it, so they would find it easily. Lockham’s eyes were wide open, and you closed them. “At least one of us is at peace,” you whispered.

“You’re home!!” little Lilly exclaimed happily as you walked through the door. Your family was sitting in the dining room, having supper. You were the firstborn, the eldest of your father’s children. Your father was the Duke of Serafino, the City of Snake; one of the two warrior cities in the Vampire Kingdom. He was a nice man with brown eyes and hair, fair complexion, nicely built but a little short.

Your stepmother was a beauty; she had blue eyes, fair complexion, sharp features and hair spun like gold. Her children took after her, all cream and gold. They all hated you, except for the little one, Lilly.

“Yay, I’m home,” you said sarcastically. It was hard not to be nice to the little girl who looked at you with wonder in her eyes; she was so full of life. To no one’s wonder you had blood on your clothes and your darling step mother eyed it with a look in her eyes that said filthy. For you, it was like an invitation. You were planning to have supper in your room just like any other day, but you sat down at the end of the table. Your father was seated at his normal seat which belonged to the head of the family. The chair right across from him was the place for his wife, but that was your mother’s place and now it belonged to you.

Your mother had died in childbirth, you had her amber eyes and olive skin. Her name was Katina. People told you that she’d been a beauty; you had some of her pictures and sometimes you would feel her close beside you. It was a weird feeling, but not bad, not at all. You weren't a person who put her feelings on display, heck you hadn’t even cried in like twenty years! The only permanent feeling you had left was emptiness. You felt numb, like a shell, nothing inside, no love, no hope, not even sorrow after all these years. It felt like you were dead and it was true, your heart was dead.

“I would like some blood sausages Charles and don’t forget the wine,” you said cheerfully to the butler. He was a nice guy, always talked politely. You suspected that he was in love with the cook, Ms. Glen; it would be nice to have some love in this house which felt like living in a coffin.

“How was your day, Y/N?” Lilly asked, her cheerful eyes trained on you. You wondered for how long this child would be allowed to keep her innocence? When you’d been her age ...you shied away from that thought. Thoughts bring back memories and your memories were like old corpses, one would never want to dig them. Instead you took a bite of your sausage - man, they were delicious.

“It was almost nice, Bunny. I played who-can-catch-me with a friend and I won!!” Bunny was the nickname you had given her because she was never still. Everyone paused for a moment; it was really weird and funny at the same moment. You loved how all the eyes drifted to you and back to Lilly. She was beaming because you had won the game. You gave her a small smile.

“Oh that’s wonderful!! Where is your friend now?” Curious little kid, everyone paused again, including you this time.

“You see, we were playing on a bet. He lost the bet so he had to …go to another city.” You were very good at lying, but her beaming eyes and pure innocence made it hard. It was impossible to lie to that child.

“When would he come back?” she asked, and you sighed. Your plate was half empty and the looks everyone were giving you just killed the hunger inside. You stood up with the wine glass in my hand.

“Chew your food, Bunny,” you replied and left the room.

Your room was a mixture of blue and gold. The wallpapers were straight lines of different shades of blue. The furniture was of mahogany wood with fine carvings. The round rug was golden on the edge and blue in the middle, it looked like a pool of water. All the linen was blue and gold as well. Your bed was round and big with golden bedposts and curtains. You had a balcony of your own with a little fountain with a sculpture of a mother and her child. You had spent a lot of time taking care of the blue roses in your garden.

The front wall was covered with your music collection. You found peace in music, it was the only time when you could just forget everything and float. You quickly changed and crawled under the sheets, picking up the remote from the side table and pressing the play button. It was Mozart’s duo. What an amazing symphony! It helped you drift back to your happy memories.

Unlike your half brothers and sisters, you were raised in Tiria. It was a small town on the edge of Serafino. You were raised by the Countess of Tiria, a very kind woman. She had grace, beauty, and wealth but no children. She showered you with love and pretty gifts. You had excellent teachers for your education. You learned everything from crochet to fencing.

The manor there was old and beautiful. It had a beautiful garden and a whole forest around it. You would often go into the forest, just to explore it. Those were the happiest days of your life. Until your tenth birthday - the day the Countess died.

Just like the symphony, your thoughts turned darker. You’d been happy that day; the maids had told you that you were going to have a big birthday party. The Earl had been there for two weeks now. Your innocent mind had thought that he was there for your birthday. That morning you were out in the gardens, picking up some red roses for the Countess, it was something you did every day. You would just run into her room to put them on her side table, she loved that. You held the bunch of roses in your tiny hands, running through the house to her room. You were wearing a very pretty white dress with laces and pink ribbons. Your bare feet softly met the stone floor as you ran to her room and pushed the door, happily calling to her.

The Countess was there, lying on the floor in a pool of blood. There were bruises on her body and a sword, stabbed right through her heart. The handle of the sword was in the hands of the Earl. He twisted the blade with a cruel smile in his eyes. Then you screamed. The flowers falling from your hands, red roses into red blood - they were the same color. Your pretty white dress was now red. You backed away still screaming, leaving little red footprints on the floor. The maids came running to you and held you tight as you screamed and screamed. You don’t remember for how long you were screaming or what happened later.

You drifted off to sleep.

It was a beautiful forest. The trees were so thick that sunlight barely touched the ground and everything was covered in moss. You were standing there in front of a giant wolf. It wasn’t a werewolf, it smelled like a regular one but just giant, like a direwolf. It was growling at you, baring his teeth. You had no weapons with you, you double checked. You looked around for an escape, you could kill him with your teeth but they weren’t as sharp as they’d used to be. You looked at your nails, they were fragile. Heck! You were human!!

“Y/N, wake up!!” the wolf suddenly spoke in a girly voice. It didn’t make sense, really.

“Are you a girl?” you asked the wolf who was ready to kill you. Talking to an animal, guess you had finally lost your sanity.

“Y/N!!” Someone was shaking you, trying to wake you up without much success. Then you realized you were sleeping under a bunch of blankets and pillows. It was three in the morning; you could tell by the smell of the air. You peeked at the person who had dared to disturbed you. It was Lily.

“What is it, Bunny?” you asked sleepily. It was good she had practice understanding you while you sleep talked, if it was anyone else, they would’ve thought you were talking gibberish.

“I had a bad dream,” she said with a puppy face. You knew what she wanted; she wanted to sleep with you.

“Me too,” you replied and ran your tongue over your teeth, yup, still vampire. “Come here you,” you said, grabbing her and stuffing her under the pile of blankets and pillows. You loved a warm cozy place to sleep. You held her like a teddy bear and dozed off again. She was so soft in your arms and she held tight onto you. Protecting someone was a good feeling. You went back to sleep as if you had never woken up.

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writtenvisionary · 3 years

Text

Rooftop Riddles

Read on Ao3

WC: 5.1k

Summary: One riddle changes everything. Dramatic identity reveal, oneshot, ladynoir/adrienette | trigger warning - depression, self-harm, abuse/neglect

The breeze was nothing short of refreshing as she sat next to her partner in crime. He was silent for the time being, but she knew it was only a matter of time before he would start saying something stupid. So she took in her surroundings while there was still silence between them.

It was dark; street lights illuminated all of Paris. Shadows bounced from wall to wall as civilians took their nightly walks, either from work or just around the block to get some fresh, cool air before they go to sleep. There are also those pathetically trudging toward their place of employment for their overnight shifts, and Marinette felt for them. Being Ladybug was all too taxing on her, and she often felt like she worked 24 hours, but in reality it was just all of the extra exercise that made her so exhausted every day.

Looking over at Chat Noir, she takes in his appearance. His hunched back, drooped cat ears, slow breaths. He’s looking straight ahead, seemingly lost in his own train of thought. Her eyebrows furrow.

She opens her mouth to speak, but her partner beats her to it.

“Wanna hear a riddle?”

“Uh, sure.”

“Okay. What do you call a sad watermelon?”

Ladybug had to think. Biting her bottom lip, she pondered an answer.

“Um... I don’t know, what?”

“Melon-choly.”

A smile lit up her face.

“Oh!” She laughed.

“Here’s another. It’s kinda long, so get ready.”

She nods, shifting in her seat.

“A single father took care of his baby, and he was rich so the baby had a lot. Food, clothes, excessive stuff. What didn’tthe baby have?”

Marinette frowns, some weird feeling rushing through her veins. She sits up, narrowing her eyes at the boy clad in a black leather suit. He sits with his legs pulled up to his chest, looking straight forward. Not even a tiny upward lift of his lips, making her worry.

Something about the way he delivered that riddle was… ominous. It didn’t seem like he was disconnected from the story he was telling. It’s almost like he could relate.

She gulps.

“A mother?”

He nods, then hangs his head for a moment before pulling it back up and flashing an obviously fake smile in her direction.

“Bingo,” he says dryly.

Her frown deepens.

Why did that riddle sound like something personal? Is he rich?

That sounds like someone she knows. And the riddle boy’s mother was gone… that sounded like him too.

No, there’s no correlation. It’s just a random riddle.

“Alright, last one.”

“Okay,” she nods.

“I am twisted from what I was, to hold the weight of others. Yet tie a knot, and my use to this world is gone.”

Her heart plummets down into her stomach. She loses her breath and has to look back at the city of Paris to think.

If it was possible, this riddle sounded scarier than the last. Chat Noir must really be in a bad mood because normally he puns, not riddles, and the jokes he tells are stupid and funny. These are just... depressing. Her concern is growing by the minute.

She needs to give an answer.

Twisted… Hold the weight of others… Tie a knot… My use to this world is gone.

Tie a knot? What?

“I—“ she licks her lips and shakes her head.

“I’m at a loss. I don’t know.”

Chat hesitates before whispering the answer.

“A noose.”

Her eyes widen and she suddenly feels like she’s been punched in the face.

“Just kidding, it’s a paperclip.”

But he didn’t seem like he was kidding. She was officially scared.

“Chat, you’re worrying me.”

“What do you call a dead pine tree?”

“Chat.”

“A never-green.”

“Minou, I —“

“What do you call a broken pencil?”

“Chat Noir.”

“Pointless,” he laughs darkly.

“Chat Noir!”

Finally, he looks over at her and her mouth falls agape.

His complexion is so pale, lips are pressed into a thin line, and his eyes are glistening.

“What?” He asks, voice breaking on the word.

Carefully, she places her hands on either side of his face. She stares directly into his eyes.

“You’re worrying me,” her voice shakes. “Please tell me whatever’s making you upset so I can help.”

“… I-I’m not upset.”

“Kitty. You just told me a riddle about a noose.”

He shakes his head, scrunching his eyebrows.

“It was a paperclip, milady. Can’t you appreciate a good joke?”

“Chat, all of the jokes you’ve cracked tonight have been nothing short of depressing.”

Frowning, he pulls away from her hold, avoiding her gaze.

“So? New to dark humor?”

“No,” she shakes her head. “But that’s not normally the humor you have, Chaton.”

He’s quiet for a couple seconds before responding.

“Just wanted to try something different—“

“I’m not going to take these bullshit excuses, you know?”

Chat Noir raises an eyebrow, not used to such language coming from his lady.

“They’re not excuses—“

“YES they are!”

She softens her voice.

“Please,” she begs. “Talk to me.”

It’s almost as if she didn’t say anything, how he continues to stare into the distance, silently appreciating the view of Paris. She follows suit, not knowing what else to say. Instead, she decides to wait it out. Hopefully he’ll talk. Eventually.

And he does.

“My mother died about a year ago.”

Her jaw slackens, but she stays silent.

“Father has always been very… strict. But lately he’s been putting a lot on me. Stuff that… stuff that a normal, average sixteen-year old shouldn’t have to put up with,” he sighs.

He calls his dad father? The only other person who does that is…

Alarms go off in her head.

“He makes me take so many lessons beyond school. Chinese, fencing, piano— and he didn’t even let me go to public school until four months ago. I was homeschooled by my father’s assistant, I mean she’s a good family friend—“

Wait.

“And the only friend that was ever allowed over was the mayor’s daughter, and she’s snobby and hangs off of me like I’m her fucking property when I’m NOT and—“

Chloé?

“Father doesn’t even have dinner with me. I mean, maybe once every two months if I get lucky—“

Her eyes widen. He couldn’t be…

“But most of the time it’s just me and the family friend, and she’s not even eating! She’s looking over my schedule to make sure it’s as jam-packed as it was the day before. I swear I never get a break.

“Sometimes it feels like Father is always disappointed in me, no matter what I do. I feel like I’m trapped in his bubble, like I can’t get out. My house is like a fortress. Or a prison. Being Chat Noir is my escape but I just… It’s getting to be too much, milady.

“I don’t know how much more I can take.”

She feels like she lost her voice. Her brain is on overdrive.

If all the pieces are adding up, my akuma-fighting partner is also my crush who is also a world famous model and—

Focus, Marinette.

“It sounds stressful, A— uh, Chat.”

He intakes a sharp breath.

“Did I say too much?”

She bites her lip. Yes.

“No?”

It comes out as a question. He must suspect that she’s lying.

He tilts his head in admission, then looks down.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. Um… I’ll always be here for you. You know that, right?”

Slowly, Chat Noir—Adrien—meets her gaze once again.

His response was hesitant. “Yeah.”

She has to sigh; she doesn’t seem to be getting through to him.

“Minou, you are loved and wanted and I want to make sure you know that.”

Chat Noir chews his bottom lip.

“Thanks, bugaboo.”

They fall into a comfortable silence, just peering down at the streets of their city. She wants to ask him more questions because it seems like there’s more he’s not telling her, but decides against it. She doesn’t expect him to tell her everything, especially since opening up that much was already hard enough for him (and she really shouldn’t have been able to figure out his identity because danger! but she supposes she’ll forgive him since he’s literally the love of her life and he needs someone to be there for him either way).

A small movement in the corner of her eye catches her attention. She looks in Chat’s direction, noting how he’s holding a hand over his left wrist. Her frown deepens. It’s not like she wants him to notice that she’s staring, but she can’t look away. Warily, she watches his face twist in pain.

“Does your wrist hurt, kitty?”

He startles, but shakes his head.

“It’s good.”

“But,” she challenges, “you’re holding it. Looks like it hurts…”

Chat Noir clenches his teeth, turning to look at his lady with fire in his eyes.

“I said it’s good, Ladybug. Leave it.”

Marinette flinches at the use of her superhero name instead of one of his usual nicknames for her. His tone is uncharacteristically harsh, as well.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

The last thing she wants to do is upset him more.

She clears her throat, at a loss for words. The atmosphere had suddenly turned tense and she wasn’t fully enjoying his presence anymore. Of course, he wasn’t dangerous or anything, but she really didn’t want him to snap at her again.

Ladybug likes a happy kitten, not a bitter one.

She wishes she knew what to do.

“Well,” Chat speaks. “I gotta head out; get back home before my father’s assistant notices I’m gone and I get taken out of school.”

He stands, getting ready to extend his baton and hop from building to building for as long as possible in order to procrastinate his return to the large, lonely mansion where he resides.

Ladybug hops up so quickly that her head spins, but she ignores it in hope of saying one last thing before he leaves.

“Hey, Chaton?”

Said cat boy looks in her direction, letting her know that he’s listening.

Instead of speaking, she just leans forward to press her lips onto his cheek. When she pulls away, she offers a smile.

“You and me against the world.”

He plasters a (fake) grin onto his face, “Thanks, bugaboo. See you later.”

Then he bolts away, leaving his Lady alone on a rooftop.

Life had gone on as normal for both Adrien and Marinette. For the next two weeks, the superhero pair had not spoken about Chat’s home life or his internal struggles. She wanted to give him some space and he simply wanted to forget that he even showed so much vulnerability around her.

Granted, Adrien didn’t care that she knew. In fact, he was pretty happy that she had been willing to listen. Usually she never allowed rants from the either of them because she knew that it was easy to slip up and say something that could lead an unwarranted identity reveal.

Marinette wanted to talk to him, come to a mutual agreement, and then officially tell each other who they were. She knew it was unfair that she knew and wasn’t telling him, but in all honesty, she wasn’t even sure her suspicions are right.

(She’s ninety-nine percent sure).

Her eyes had been on Adrien for those two weeks, subtly checking to make sure that there weren’t bags under his eyes (there were), that his smiles weren’t forced (they were), and that he was eating enough (she had no way of knowing, but he hadn’t asked for a macaron in a few days and she was starting to get worried).

He was doing somewhat alright, from what she could tell. She didn’t expect to see anything different today.

Boy, was she wrong.

She had been passing out papers to the class regarding their next class trip, explaining that they needed a parent signature, as well as forty-two Euros by next Monday, in order to attend. When she reached Adrien, she paused.

He was rubbing at his left wrist — the same wrist that Chat had been holding in pain that night two weeks ago. His face was contorted painfully; familiarly. This brought about her worries.

Subtly, she placed down the papers in front of him, to which he looked up at her and sent an oh so fake smile in thanks.

As she walked away, Marinette just barely caught a glimpse of some red, scratch-like marks on his skin as he picked the paper up.

Her heart dropped.

She hadn’t realized that him holding his wrist earlier was a sign of self-harm. Apparently he was worse off than she thought. Now, it’s a whole different ball game — one that can’t have secret identities interfering with. She has no choice; she needs to stay in contact with him.

He needs to be okay.

Marinette tried to wait until patrol that night. Really, she did. But she couldn’t resist zipping over to his house and knocking at his window right after his fencing practice had ended.

He jumps at the sound, quickly ushering Plagg to hide in his shirt, before turning around to look at the super-heroine.

“Hi, Ladybug!” He greets with a smile. “Anything I can help you with today?”

She takes that as an invitation to leap into his room, then she allows her yoyo to snap close as she lands in front of him.

Her hands stay in fists as she brings them up to rest at either side of her waist. She grins brightly in his direction.

“Hi, kitty!”

It’s almost comical how his smile drops.

“What?”

In lieu of a response, she drops her arms to rest at her side. Then she takes a few steps forward so that she’s standing much closer to him.

“Your father is strict… he has an assistant… he makes you take piano, fencing, Chinese lessons…”

His eyes widen slowly as she speaks, his heart beating erratically.

Ladybug scoffs, “Honestly, Adrien? You couldn’t have been more obvious.”

He gulps in horror.

Then he narrows his eyes.

“How did you know that Adrien Agreste takes Chinese lessons? I’ve never once mentioned that in an interview…”

She stiffens.

“Uh. B-because you told me before.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“As Chat,” she supplies.

The model scoffs, “I’m not Chat Noir.”

Ladybug shrugs, beginning to stroll around his room.

“Okay. So why did I see you rub your wrist in class today, hm?”

Now it’s Adrien’s turn to stiffen.

“Y-y-you’re in my class? What?” He asks incredulously.

“Yes. I’m the class president.”

She says it so confidently that it scares her. He’s sure to figure it out by now. She can’t look at him as he comes to the realization.

“But my class president is Marinette— wait.”

He huffs, smirking.

“Are you Marinette?”

Finally she casts her gaze in his direction.

“In the flesh.”

She watches as his eyes light up. He approaches her with a smile.

“Oh my god. Wait, then I’m totally okay admitting I’m Chat Noir.”

Her eyebrow raises, “Oh yeah? And if I was, say, Chloé… would you have admitted it?”

He immediately shakes his head.

Ladybug doesn’t even try to stifle her laugh.

“Spots off.”

Adrien watches in amazement as a magical, pink light engulfs her entire body, leaving Marinette Dupain-Cheng standing in his bedroom.

When she’s out of the Miraculous, the first thing Tikki does is call Plagg.

“Plagg, get out here! I need to talk to you!”

Plagg phases through Adrien’s over-shirt and glares at his counterpart.

“Well hello to you too, Sugarcube!”

The other side of the room is then occupied by two magical creatures, allowing for Adrien and Marinette to have some time alone.

An awkward tension fills the air for the first couple moments, as the two recently-outed superheroes stare at each other, letting everything sink in.

Adrien is the first to speak.

“Wow, uh… wow.”

Marinette only nods, unable to comment on his reaction as she is overflowing with concern.

“Adrien, we have to talk.”

His eyes dim and his lips curve downwards. He nods, hanging his head.

“Yeah,” he whispers, “we do.”

He leads her over to the couch and gestures for her to sit down. Then he gets situated right next to her, positioning his hands on his knees. Marinette takes a deep breath.

“So… I saw the scars in class today.”

She shifts her eyes to his left wrist, uncovered and visibly scarred. He follows her eyes, frowning when he meets their destination.

Adrien simply hums, staring at the abused skin but not saying a word.

“Why?” Marinette whispers.

He shrugs.

“I’m fine. It’s just… Chat Noir gives me freedom, but sometimes it’s not enough. I promise I don’t do it that often.”

“The amount of times you do it doesn’t matter, kitty, it’s the fact that you do.”

“What do you care anyway?” He scoffs. “You weren’t paying me much attention before I was in a sour mood that day.”

“I’ve always cared, Adrien. Always. Just because I’m super level-headed doesn’t mean that I don’t pay attention. I notice when you’re sad. I do. This time you were really worrying me, though, so I spoke up.”

Adrien rolls his eyes, “And it didn’t occur to you that maybe I wanted you to ask how I was feeling all those other times I was sad?”

She quiets at that.

“I mean, I understand that you don’t want to get in my way, but I appreciate people caring, Marinette. It means a lot to me. I feel like, if I never gave away too much information, you would still be assuming things about me. Things like, oh he’s okay because he’s loud and cocky and cracks jokes all the time — maybe it’s just a bad day.”

He shakes his head, allowing a bitter laugh to escape his raw throat.

“Every day is a bad day, Mari. I’m just a good fucking actor.”

Marinette soaks in every word like a sponge, letting each and every one hit her right where it hurts, because it’s true. He is a good actor; she’s not good at understanding the script.

I’m sorry, she wants to say. The words dance on the tip of her tongue.

He��s not finished, though.

“I want the world to suffer some days, you know? I want everyone to feel just as pressured and exploited as I have been for basically my entire life. I want all my friends with a good family to see what it’s like to live in this large mansion, with their father closed away in his room, never to be seen again by his own son who just wants him to say I love you.”

When had he started crying?

Well, the tears are flowing and he can’t stop the river now. Not when he has more to say.

“I have the power of destruction wrapped around my finger, Marinette.”

His lip trembles.

“You should be glad that I haven’t tried to Cataclysm any houses, or street lights, or cars, or busses, or-or-or—“

He breaks.

He meant to keep going — to finish his sentence — but he breaks.

There’s not much more that Marinette can do, other than pull him into her arms and whisper soothing words of reassurance as he sobs uncontrollably.

She rubs his back, softly shh-ing him as he lets it all out of his system. She allows him to drown for the time being, all while reassuring that she’ll be there to pull him back to shore.

Each one of his sniffles was a subtle reminder that she was there for him; that no matter if his father comes around to finally paying him some attention, or not, he will always have her shoulder to cry on. Simultaneously, though, her heart twists at how unhealthily he’s been dealing with the trauma.

She had heard stories upon stories of teenagers resorting to self-harm because they had no other outlet, and she had been so thankful that no one she knew had taken those measures. Now, a statistic has become personal. She would be lying if she said that she knew how to handle it.

But she knew that no matter the circumstance, it had to be dealt with.

That meant getting her crush some professional help. A therapist, some medication, and plenty of cuddles. (Cuddles arescientifically proven to relieve anxiety, right? It’s a professional technique).

A quiet sniffle breaks her out of her thoughts. She glances down at Adrien as he slightly pulls away from her hold, eyes red and puffy.

Maybe that can all be dealt with later.

She ruffles his hair.

“Let’s go get some ice cream, yeah?”

Adrien peers up at her in confusion.

She just smiles and wriggles out of their position on his couch, then stands up with her hands on her hips.

“Ice cream always cheers me up. We definitely have to talk more about this later, among other things, but I can’t bear to see you sad any longer. So let’s go!”

The left corner of his mouth perks up, albeit only for a mere second.

“My father—“

“To hell with you father,” Marinette reaches down to grab his hand and hoists him up from the couch.

“We are going to get ice cream whether he likes it or not. You need to do what makes YOU happy, ‘kay?”

He concedes.

After ice cream, they return to the bakery and consult with Tom and Sabine. It had taken a lot of convincing on Marinette’s part to get Adrien to agree, but from there began the journey of his recovery.

They explained his home situation and mental health struggles in full, only leaving out the part about them fighting akumas. Both adults had immediately started searching for a good therapist (and lawyer) that would help Adrien get on the right track.

In the end, Adrien was glad that they had told her parents. Their concern for him and dedication to his cause filled his heart with long lost hope and parental love. It had been so long since he felt cared for. And now that he’s felt it once again, he’s not ready to let it go.

Thank goodness the Dupain-Chengs’ weren’t going to let him go so easily.

It was a unanimous decision that, until he feels comfortable going back to the mansion, he would stay. He didn’t want to burden them, but they insisted. So he had no choice but to accept the offer.

Before he even knew it, another two weeks had passed. A new routine was broken in by the members of the D.C. household — Marinette was getting real annoyed with Adrien’s constant comparisons of her last name initials to Marvel (her father had taken a liking to his puns, however, so now she just lived in constant pain) — and suddenly it was like he had always been there.

His first therapy session wasn’t great. He was riddled with anxiety (no pun intended) and Doctor Benson was too nice for his liking. Well, it wasn’t that he didn’t like it. It was just so off-putting, considering he wasn’t used to being treated with such kindness even by his own father.

Doctor Benson told him that a lot of the things he’s been experiencing aren’t normal, but his response to that trauma is. At first he had been confused when he was told that his father was emotionally neglectful and verbally abusive. He didn’t understand what his father was doing wrong. Once Doctor Benson explained that, “Abuse is a violent, repetitive behavior that has a negative mental, emotional, and/or physical impact on the victim,” it became more clear.

It’s still a concept that he’s getting used to — that he’s a victim of abuse. The thought makes his skin crawl and a shiver run up his spine because he never considered himself to be part of a statistic. Now that he knows he is, he’s not sure what to do.

Marinette keeps telling him, “Even agreeing to go to therapy is a huge step in the right direction, and I’m so proud of you.” Then she goes on to tell him just how special he is to her and how important him and his life is and all of this crap about how he’s worth more than he thinks.

He has to believe her, too, because she’s the one that found him at his worst and instead of judging him, picked him off the ground and took initiative. She’s the one that brought him to her parents, helped him hide from his father, and even got him a part-time job at the bakery. It’s only temporary until he is able to access his earnings, but he will admit that he likes it way better than modeling; that had just been because his father wanted him to, anyways.

Everyone tells him time and time again that he should not be living for his father. He wants to disagree, because that’s what he’s been conditioned to do for so long, but he ultimately chooses not to. Because they’re right; he’s a young adult who should have the freedom to make his own decisions.

In the end, if he’s not happy, there’s always more opportunities. He knows that now.

And there’s no better way to figure out what he wants than to explore, and reach out for help.

A black cat and a ladybug sat atop a roof.

Marinette has her head tucked into the crook of her partner’s neck, eyes closed as she feels the wind blow past her. Adrien’s head lays on top of hers’ and eyes are trained on the full moon above them.

It had been a long day; one akuma attack and three tests, plus their friends wanted to hang out. Exhaustion had taken over hours before, and sleep was creeping up on them. They cherish the view of Paris at night while it lasts, before they have to go home and do it all again the next day.

When she lifts her head to look at her favorite kitty, she’s relieved to see a soft smile resting on his features.

“Whatcha thinking about?”

He glances at her before turning back to the stars, then hesitates.

“Can I tell you a riddle?”

Her face pales and stomach plummets.

“N-no, I don’t want to play this game again.”

“I promise its a good one, nothing too sad.”

They lock eyes. She can tell there is sincerity within those dark green orbs, so she reluctantly nods.

Adrien licks his lips, not breaking his gaze.

“I visit you every night, even if you don’t call me. I’m lost every day. What am I?”

Jokingly, she wants to say “Chat Noir” but their identities are known now, and she sees him every day (so, admittedly, it wouldn’t be that good of a joke). Then she looks up at the sky and she has her answer.

“The stars,” she whispers.

She’s not looking at him, but she can almost hear his smile widen. So she looks back to him, because she loves to see her kitty happy.

Sure enough, a grin — genuine, not forced — is playing on his lips. It’s human nature to copy social expressions, so she lets her mouth curve into a matching grin.

Then she leans in.

Their smiles fade as they inch closer, focused on the next task at hand. His gaze drops to her pink lips, and she stares into his eyes. She can see the thirst, the want, but she can also see his hesitance.

Experimentally, she pauses to see if he’ll close the gap, but he simply stops in accordance with her. She wants this so bad, but he’s very shy when it comes to romance; despite being so outwardly confident as Chat Noir.

He had told her that it was a mask to hide how scared he truly was. His advances towards her were genuine, although deep down, he was afraid of rejection (to which she will forever feel guilty for putting him through). He wanted to break his façade sometimes, but he chose not to for the sake of not worrying her. The media might have noticed his change in behavior, too; granted, he never cared what the public thought of him anyways.

So, to save them both the trouble, she takes the leap and closes the gap, capturing his lips in a fluid movement.

It’s pure ecstasy; electricity pulses through his veins, but at the same time… he’s calm. He’s not sure how to describe the feeling, in all honesty. It’s just perfect.

Well, not perfect, he corrects himself. Enjoyable, but not perfect.

They don’t move in perfect sync and his lips are chapped so she’s probably wondering why the heck are his lips so dry?and her mouth keeps opening and he isn’t sure if it’s a mistake or if he should do something but he’s not ready for the tongue yet, and so their heads are tilting at an awkward angle trying to make sense of the situation —

— but she smells like pastries and her lips are so soft and he can’t help but crack his eyes open because she is so beautiful in every single way oh my god I love her and nothing makes this better than cupping her face with his right hand and feeling just how smooth her skin is which calms him immensely and he just doesn’t want this to end.

When they finally pull away, with heavy breaths and big smiles, little giggles and red cheeks… he’s happy.

Maybe he’s not perfect. Neither is she. Nobody is, and Adrien is just starting to understand that.

Years of conditioning is hard to unlearn, but he is so grateful to have a support system he can count on. Marinette’s parents honorarily adopting him as one of their own, Doctor Benson offering coping mechanisms he hadn’t even known existed, his bodyguard protecting him from the father sperm donor he’s still afraid to talk to (one day soon, he’ll have to, but he’s planning on crossing that bridge when he gets there), Ms. Bustier’s unwavering faith in his abilities, and his friends’ insistence that he is more than enough — all of this support is overwhelming, to say the least, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Most importantly, there’s Marinette. She has been his rock for the past three years and it’s more true now than it ever was. She is family, in every sense of the word.

“Hey, Mari?” He says quietly, breaking the silence.

“Yes, Chaton?”

The nickname rolls off her tongue in a teasing manner, and he has to laugh.

“Thank you.”

“Always.”

#mlb #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #adrienette #ladynoir #ladynoir identity reveal #adrienette kiss #tw depression #hurt adrien agreste #adrien agreste needs a hug #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug and chat noir

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teawaffles · 3 years

Text

There’s No Business Like Show Business: Chapter 2

The next day.

After finishing his work at the mansion, Bond headed to Whitechapel’s Leman Street, where Maya and her company normally held their rehearsals. [1]

Walking down the noisy street was not just Bond, but also three other employees of the Moriarty household. One of them was Fred Porlock.

“It would’ve been fine if only you came along, Fred…… But thanks for joining us anyway, you two.”

Bond directed that to Jack Renfield and Sebastian Moran, who were walking a little behind him.

As Fred was a master of disguise, Bond had asked him to contribute his opinion on the performance too when Jack and Moran decided to tag along. Now the four of them were on their way to the rehearsal — with Louis’ permission of course.

Jack roared with laughter.

“No, you don’t have to thank me. I’ve watched my fair share of theatre, so I thought I could help them out, even if it’s from an amateur’s perspective,” said the old butler, nodding as he reminisced about those good old days.

“You’re probably just after the young girls from the theatre company, aren’t you old man?” Moran said, half in disgust. “Bond said this Maya chairwoman is a dashing lady in her own right, so I came along to feast my eyes on—— Ow, that hurt!”

Jack had clapped Moran on the head, as a warning to not shoot his mouth off.

“The only one here chasing women is you. Really, you didn’t even finish your chores properly before coming here.”

“I did my part just fine. For once, I’m not skipping out on work.”

“Rubbish — I did a check before we left and found some cigarette butts in the hallway. Don’t you dare annoy Louis any further.”

“……W-Well, the more the merrier, right?”

“…………”

Listening to their usual argument at the back of the group, Bond smiled wryly, while Fred was silent.

Finally, they had reached their destination. Waiting in front of the theatre was Maya, and her little sister Mae.

“Mister Bond!”

“Hey, haven’t seen you since yesterday.”

Mae waved her arms up and down in excitement, while Bond greeted them with a smile.

“S—sorry. Normally, she would play with the other children near our place, but today she insisted on coming with me…… By the way, um, who might these, d—dignified gentlemen be?”

“Ah, they work at the same household as me. The short one here is Fred. The somewhat scary-looking one is Moran. And this dandy old gentleman is Mr Jack. If you’re alright with it, I thought you could use their input as well.”

As Bond introduced them, the three men also greeted their host. But Maya seemed a little perplexed.

“……Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to come here in a big group,” Bond admitted, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“No, no.” Maya hurriedly waved her hands. “I—I’m really grateful to be able to, hear valuable feedback from, so many people. For now, let’s not stand here to talk, please come in……”

Maya guided them into the theatre, stooped in a self-abasing posture. Her faltering voice was much as the same as from their previous encounter, but today, nerves seemed to have crept in as well.

“She has a sort of shadow about her, but that has its own charm. Like the transient beauty of a young widow, don’t you think?”

“She’s pretty, for sure, but not really my type. More like the kind of woman who complicates things when you break up with her.”

“Um, sorry you two, but if you could just keep your voices down,” chided Bond, as Jack and Moran whispered about the chairwoman behind her back.

Right after the entrance was a cramped space. The box seats above them looked hastily constructed; in truth, the interior decorations made it seem more appropriate to call this place a playhouse, rather than a proper theatre.

But their guide had only praise. “The manager here is, a really nice person; whenever we say we want to practise, he’s always happy to lend it to us. There are performances held at night, so we can only use it during the day.”

“He trusts you, doesn’t he.”

Hearing her speak with such sincere gratitude, Bond was quietly impressed by her character. Perhaps her dark aura easily invited misunderstanding, but she was definitely genuine at heart.

“Speaking of which, Miss Maya, you said that you’re the director for this performance, but surely someone else is responsible for the sets and the arrangements at the other theatre during this time?”

“Another member is in charge of the sets, but the negotiations and the like, w—were handled by me. Even so, the manager of the larger theatre — a nobleman — had actually approached us to be the opening act for another company, and I just accepted his invitation.”

“Still, isn’t it great to be invited to perform on a bigger stage, even if it’s just as an opening act?”

“Yes; for people like us — a theatre company from the slums, we don’t have many chances to show the world what we can do, so everyone’s doing their very best.”

Saying that, Maya secretly clenched her fists. Surely the one working the hardest was none other than Maya herself.

There was no audience in the stalls, and on the stage were a number of men and women — likely the company members themselves — doing light warm-ups and vocal exercises. A few of the children he’d met yesterday were also frolicking about on stage.

One exceptionally tall man on the stage had noticed Bond and the others enter the hall, and spoke up.

“Oh, is that the rumoured theatre master?”

Moran whistled at this unusually grand title.

“Theatre master, eh. A fitting name considering your experience, Bond.”

“Fufu, I’m honoured.”

Bond accepted it with his innate courage and composure. Then, he went onto the stage with Maya, while the other three sat in the stalls at the far end, so as to not stand out and interfere with the rehearsal.

The company members each stopped what they were doing and lined up in wait.

“Everyone, this is Mr Bond, who will be watching our performance today,” introduced Maya.

Right then and there, her voice had become clearer and stronger. A little taken aback by the sudden change in her attitude, Bond took a quick look around the room.

“Hello to you all. I’m looking forward to what you have for me today,” he said solemnly, as he bowed.

“We’ll do our best!” The company members bowed their heads in unison.

From their greeting, Bond could feel the the quality of their bearing, and the strength of their cohesion. Not only that, the tension he himself once felt when he stood on stage came rushing back in waves.

He switched his frame of mind from that of a special agent, to that of an actor, and looked over Maya and her company with an earnest gaze.

“Well then, without further ado, please show me what you’ve got.”

“Yes!”

Even though his instructions had been given with no introductory remarks, they asked no unnecessary questions, and jumped straight into preparation. Even though they had only put up plays in cheap theatres, Maya’s company already displayed the high level of professionalism they had developed.

“Miss Maya, what’s the programme for today?” Bond asked, as he moved to the row of seats right in front of the stage.

Maya was also directing Mae and the other children to sit down. “We’re starting with ‘The Red Shoes’, followed by ‘The Little Mermaid’, and lastly, ‘The Little Match Girl’.”

“Hmm, fairytales, I see.”

The unexpected subject matter piqued his interest.

In a time when Shakespeare was all the rage, to perform children’s literature in a proper theatre, and a serious scripted play at that — now this was a bold move.

But as someone who liked to do things unconventionally, that was precisely why their play intrigued Bond. Yesterday’s playful rendition of “The Little Match Girl” was probably inspired by it as well.

Then, the tall man who noticed Bond earlier spoke up.

“Ain’t it interesting? Maya always makes sure to write plays that even us poor dumb folk understand. Today’s script is also entirely her work,” he said cheerfully.

“Weren’t you in charge of creating the play too? You should be able to write at least one decent line of dialogue.”

At the man’s self-satisfied tone, a woman beside him sighed. But he ignored her pointed comment and carried on.

“There were a bunch of people who’d always thought ‘Hamlet’ and ‘Macbeth’ and the like were plain boring; but after Maya broke them down into something easier to follow, they’ve gotten hooked onto Shakespeare.”

“Being able to interpret works in a way that everyone can understand…… A wonderful talent indeed.”

But if you were to put on a proper production of Shakespeare in an unregulated theatre like this, you would be caught by the censors. To avoid that, incorporating music and the like into their productions was a brilliant adaptation on their part.

Bond had said that last part out loud, and the man thanked him for his words of praise. The members of the company had shown their admiration for Maya, but the woman herself took in a deep breath, as if to hide her embarrassment.

In other words, in order to put on a play that everyone could follow, the answer she'd arrived at was “fairytales”. Although it may be the best choice given the short length of the opening act……

“I’m sitting next to Mister Bond!”

“Hey, no fair!”

Bond had been absorbed in thought about the contents of the play. Nearby, the children were scrambling for the best spots. Having won the seat to the left of Bond, Mae asked him a question.

“Mister Bond, do you like ‘fairy tales’?”

That pulled him out of his thought process for a moment, and Mae smiled.

“Yeah. I read them when I was a child.”

“I like them too, because Maya and the rest always read them in a fun way—”

“Me too!” The other children raised their hands and shouted. Reading stories aloud while acting out the roles was indeed a theatrical way of reading to children.

However, Mae immediately pouted in frustration.

“But I really hate that story.”

“……Why is that?”

“The little girl always looks so sad. I tried asking Maya to give it a happy ending, but she just said that we have to ‘respect the intent of the story’ and didn’t listen.”

Her words helped Bond discern the true nature of the incongruity he'd felt.

As Mae had said, all three stories had their protagonists fall into unfortunate circumstances and perish. It was true that many fairytales were cruel, but there were others with happy endings too. Was there some hidden intent behind these choices?

As Bond pondered the new question that surfaced in his mind, Mae leaned in towards him.

“Mister Bond, do you also think it’s important, what Maya said? No matter how sad a story is, can’t we make it happy on our own?”

She asked that question with clear eyes. Bond thought for a few seconds, before responding.

“It’s true that it’s important to understand the intention of the original story. If you change its contents haphazardly, the fans of the story would be upset. I think your sister is the type who would take that very seriously.”

Mae glanced down in disappointment at his level-headed answer, but Bond continued.

“However, if we were all afraid of criticism, then nothing new would ever be made. If you have something you really want to tell others, then I think it’s possible to add a new interpretation to a story. After all, one form of respect is to show the world how you would’ve done it.”

“……Oh I see!”

Mae brightened up, and Bond smiled. Her question was one that had always, and would continue to vex all interpreters of stories. But at the very least, he didn’t want to make a decision on which way was right.

Just as their conversation had come to an end, it seemed the preparations for the performance were now complete.

“Without further ado, let us begin.”

Standing on a platform, Maya gave a bow, and with that the curtain rose.

Footnotes:

[1] Leman Street is a little to the north-east of the Tower of London and St. Katharine Docks, and within walking distance of both.

T/N: Is this chapter some meta-level commentary on the series itself?! omg

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #yuumori #english translation #forbidden games

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voiceless-terror · 3 years

Text

Of Deadlines and Drama

For @jontim-week Day Three: Late

Rating: T

Words: 2.5k

Summary: Jon’s has trouble with his expenses. Tim helps out.

“Late again? Really, Jon?”

“I know, I know!” Jon types as fast as his shaking hands will allow, but it’s no use. It’s Wednesday and its half past twelve, meaning Rosie will not be accepting his expense report under any circumstances. She’s a stickler for deadlines- at least, when it comes to Jon. They’ve never been on the best of terms, but ever since what Jon has deemed ‘The Incident,’ she’s been downright unpleasant.

“I thought you set an alarm this time!” Tim says, coming over to lean against his desk. Tim has an alarm for everything - waking up, eating, exercising, going to bed. Jon doesn't know how he stands it. “I didn’t hear anything go off.”

“I might have told you I set one,” he winces, avoiding Tim’s eyes. “And then forgot to.”

“Jon, Jon, Jon…”

“Don’t triple Jon me!” he snaps, attempting to focus on the meaningless numbers in front of him. “I’m stressed enough as is. God, Elias is going to kill me…”

“Why are you trying to impress him?” Tim plops down in the chair beside him and props his feet up on Jon’s desk, raising an eyebrow. He looks infuriatingly handsome in his button up and sweater, a look that Jon has tried to emulate, only to achieve ‘overworked librarian.’ “The only person you should be trying to impress is me. Your boyfriend. The light of your life, the reason you get up in the morning-”

“The reason these are going to be even later than usual,” Jon snaps and knocks Tim’s feet off of the desk with a sharp elbow. Tim yelps and throws Jon a hurt look that he tries and fails to ignore. “I’m sorry. You did tell me to set an alarm. It’s just...these things get away from me.”

“I know.” Tim’s face softens as he scooches his chair over and leans forward, resting his arms on his thighs. “How can I help?”

“You can convince Rosie to accept these. You’re very persuasive.” He turns and gives Tim his best doe-eyed look, though he already knows the answer.

“I am persuasive, aren’t I?” Jon ignores his preening. “But that’s not going to work. You know as soon as she sees your name…”

Jon sighs, resting his chin in his hand. “Yes, I know.”

“What did you do to her, Jon? Run over her dog? I know they scare you, but still...”

“They don’t scare me,” Jon lies, pointedly looking away. “I just...would rather not have them near my person. And you know I can’t drive.”

“What then?” Jon says nothing, focusing instead on chipping away at a small scratch in the wood of his desk. The whole thing’s rather embarrassing, and he’s gone this long without telling anyone. Tim moves his chair even closer, nudging it against Jon’s and squishing him into his desk. He’s effectively trapped.

“C’mon. Pleeease?”

Jon sighs at the wheedling tone. “I...may have snapped at her.”

“You do that with everyone, though. Unless you said something especially heinous...” Another nudge to his chair.

“And then... stumbled.”

“...okay?”

Jon closes his eyes. “And spilled my tea all over Elias’s mail.”

Tim guffaws, as expected, and Jon can feel his face warm. It certainly wasn’t his proudest moment, he can still hear Rosie’s screeching and his own stammered apologies. “That’ll do it! God, I wish I’d seen that.”

“It was incredibly embarrassing, and I’m glad you didn’t. Elias wasn’t in, thank god.”

“You could’ve gotten it all over one of those posh suits he wears.” Jon shudders at the thought. Elias is fastidious about his appearance, he would’ve been fired on the spot. Starting to feel claustrophobic, Jon pushes back against Tim’s chair to give himself breathing room and tries to refocus. He’s dawdled long enough.

Tim hums. “Hmm, maybe…”

“Maybe what?” He tucks his head over Jon’s shoulder, probably eying the obvious errors in his report. Jon’s never been good with numbers.

“Rosie doesn’t accept expenses after twelve, that’s true. But…” Tim trails off, definitely relishing in the small twitch in Jon’s eye when he does it. He enjoys riling him up, and he’s very good at it. Jon contains the urge to elbow him in the stomach.

“But what?” He’s starting to sound like a broken record.

“But she doesn’t actually give them to Elias until three or four.” Tim smirks at his affronted gasp. Jon’s never been that late, but Rosie’s always going on about ‘deadlines being very important to Mr. Bouchard’ and ‘I’m sorry I just can’t accept these so late, I’ve already given him the pile.’ Jon’s wallet has paid the price for this on more than one occasion- he counts on those reimbursements, and it often leaves him short on cash for the rest of the week. Tim will pick up the check on those days, waving off Jon’s protests and trying to assuage his guilt. Before he can start raging about the newly-discovered arbitrary deadline, Tim cuts in.

“But if I distract her, you can slip them in her little pile and she’ll be none the wiser!” Tim gives him a cheeky grin. It’s...not a bad plan, but Jon’s hesitant at the thought of pulling one over on his boss’s secretary.

“Or I could just wait until she goes to the bathroom and do it then.” Tim’s face falls at the suggestion.

“Or I could distract her.”

Ah. So that’s what this is about. They haven’t been on an investigation in weeks, and he always gets restless when they’re cooped up in the institute. And a bored Tim is a dangerous Tim.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun! This way we can control the scenario, make sure you have enough time to get in and out.”

Jon raises an eyebrow. “And what if she sees through your antics?”

Tim gives a dramatic gasp, rearing back in his seat and just barely missing a passing librarian. “Are you doubting my acting skills? I’ll have you know you aren’t the only theater kid in this place. And I didn’t want to bring it up, but...you owe me.”

Jon’s heart drops. Of course. Jon can’t coast along on his boyfriend’s paychecks, that’s asking too much. It’s his fault he’s in this predicament, and honestly, he should be thanking Tim for even offering.

“For bailing on that stakeout.”

Jon pauses, and promptly dismisses his guilt. “I was sick! From a cold you gave me, might I add-”

“Technicalities.” Tim waves a dismissive hand. “C’mon. Do me a favor. Let your boyfriend save the day. Please?” He does his best impression of a kicked puppy, and Jon’s almost afraid he’ll go down on his knees to complete the look.

“Fine,” he sighs, ignoring the answering cheer. “If you must. But how are you going to-”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it,” Tim winks, jumping up from his seat and throwing his bag over his shoulder. “Leave it to me. Finish those up, and I’ll be back before you know it.” He’s already halfway through the door before Jon can say thank you, and only pauses to call back “Have Sasha check for typos! Love you!”

Jon scowls at the snickers that follow this statement, and turns back to his screen. The numbers blurred together, and he’s pretty sure he’s subtracted when he should’ve added. It’s a wonder he ever gets these done at all.

“Sasha? Can you look at this for me?”

_________

Tim promptly comes back with coffee (which Jon knows he hates) and cronuts, dropping one off at Jon’s desk. “She won’t be able to resist,” he promises with a peck to Jon’s cheek. “When you see us in the hallway, that’s your cue!”

In spite of himself, he starts to feel a little excited. Tim’s exuberance is contagious, and while not as thrilling as an investigation, Jon’s not above a bit of petty revenge. Not even revenge, really, more justice for the pain and suffering of his bank account. And not ten minutes later, Tim and Rosie are chatting amicably as they walk past the library, cronuts in hand. He feels the slightest bit of envy at how easily Tim can make friends, but tamps it down as he tiptoes up the stairs and over to Rosie’s desk. Elias’s door is thankfully closed.

And her desk is...empty. Immaculate. Nothing but a tiny notepad and her usual knickknacks, not a paper in sight. Fuck. Had she already given them to Elias? Is Jon too late? Did Tim waste money on coffee and cronuts for nothing? Calm down, he tells himself, willing his heart to slow. Just...have a look around.

He tries not to feel too guilty as he rummages through her mail trays and under her place mat. There’s nothing too personal, though he averts his eyes at a list entitled New Year, New Intentions. It’s when he finally turns to the drawers that he sees it- the corner of a file folder, sticking out of the bottom drawer. Please be it, please be it. He tugs it out, wincing at the small tear it causes and aha! He’s found it. A pile of neatly clipped expense reports is nestled inside, and all he needs to do is stick his in the middle where she can’t see and he’ll be fine-

“Jon?”

The voice startles him so badly he lets out a little yelp, the folder flying from his hands and papers littering the floor around him. He puts a hand on his chest to calm his racing heart and turns around to find Elias, who’s just caught him snooping through his secretary’s desk like a little thief. Jon didn’t even hear the door open. Oh god. I’m fucked. I’m fired.

“I-um, h-hello! Elias.” He gives an awkward little wave and immediately curses himself for doing it. It’s like he’s suddenly forgotten what normal people do with their hands. “I was just...looking for a pen. T-To write Rosie. A note.”

“A note.” Elias raises one eyebrow, and it’s clear he doesn’t believe a word coming out of Jon’s mouth. To be fair, Jon wouldn’t either. When put on the spot, Jon can’t lie to save his life. “And this file…?” He bends down to pick up the folder clearly marked ‘Expenses’ in bold, black print. Jon winces.

“It...fell out?”

“Oh, Jon.” Elias tuts, and Jon refrains from full body flinching. He has a particular hatred of being scolded, and especially by Elias, of all people. The man he’s desperate to impress, who holds his job in his hands. “There’s no need for the ruse. Deadlines aren’t exactly your strong suit, are they?”

“No,” he mumbles, the words barely audible as he struggles to meet Elias’s eyes. He loves having his flaws pointed out to him. Loves it. “I’m sorry.”

“However, you do fine work.” Jon blinks and there it is- a rare, indulgent smile. It’s incongruous with those strange, cold eyes, but it makes Jon feel better all the same. “You’re one of our best researchers. But if you want to move up in the world, timeliness is of the utmost importance, yes?”

“Y-Yes,” Jon stammers, nodding his head up and down like a puppet. Move up in the world? Jon’s never considered himself ‘promotion material,’ but the thought that Elias thinks it possible fills him with excitement. You do fine work, he said. Fine work! “I’ll do my best.”

“Of course.” Elias offers the folder to Jon’s trembling hands, and gives him a conspiratorial smile. “This, however, can be our little secret, hm? I believe I saw Rosie and Mr. Stoker in the break room, but I think they’ll be back any minute. Best to tidy up before she notices.”

Jon can’t help the beam that spreads across his face. “T-Thank you, Elias. Really. It won’t happen again-”

“I know it won’t.” Elias gives him a brisk nod, suddenly all business, and turns back to his office, shutting the door briskly behind him without another word. Jon takes that as his cue to scurry across the floor, grabbing up the papers as frantically as possible while taking care not to crumple them further. It takes him a few moments, but he manages to get them in order and tucks his own into the pile. He places it carefully in the drawer he found it in, corner sticking out just as before. No Rosie in sight. Thank god.

With that, he bolted. Best not to be spotted anywhere near the scene of the crime.

______

“Did it work?” Tim rushes into the library, talking entirely too loudly and plopping down on Jon’s desk, sending pens flying. Jon chooses to ignore this. “I brought Rosie her favorites, gave up my choicest gossip to get her out of that seat. Told her if Elias overheard he’d go mental.” Tim pauses to consider this. “Actually, that might’ve been true. It involves a copier and a certain someone-”

“It worked,” Jon quickly cuts him off. He doesn’t need any more info on whatever...that was. “Thank you. But Elias caught me.” Tim looks at him incredulously, as if surprised he survived the encounter. “And he was...okay with it? I mean, he told me it couldn't happen again, but he said ’it’s our little secret.”

Tim blanches at the words. “What?”

“He also said I did fine work,” Jon admits shyly. “I didn’t know he paid attention to me, but-”

“Hang on, ‘our little secret’? Fine work!?” Tim shrieks and Jon hurriedly shushes him, looking anxiously around the library. No one pays attention, used to their antics by now. “What’s that supposed to be, a euphemism?”

“A euphemism? What on earth could that be a euphemism for?”

“I don’t know!” Tim waves a hand around dramatically, and he actually looks a bit put out. Is he...jealous? Jon can’t help the small smirk and Tim notices it right away. “Don’t give me that! I don’t like the way he looks at you. Sasha’s noticed too. It’s downright creepy.”

“The grey is a bit disconcerting, I’ll give you that.”

“It doesn’t match his face! Weird, right?”

“Anyway,” Jon says, eager to cut off yet another tangent. “Your plan worked.”

“Not really.” Tim pouts, kicking his feet out like a toddler and turning away with his arms crossed. Only Tim can manage to make the petulant look work on a twenty-eight year old man.

“Yes, really!” Tim doesn’t turn around and Jon internally rolls his eyes, albeit fondly. “Look, I’ll get my check next Friday with everyone else. And then I’ll take you out to dinner. How does that sound?”

That did it. Tim tilts his head towards him, gives him a playful smile. “Gonna romance me, Sims? Pull out all the stops?”

Jon returns it. “All the second-rate sushi you want.”

“You’re a prince among men.” Tim hops off his desk and gives his forehead a kiss. Jon’s partial to those kisses and he can feel himself melting at the touch, even as his smile turns wicked.

“I could ask Elias if he’s free as well-”

He doesn’t manage to dodge the pen that flies his way, but he doesn’t mind. Jealousy’s not a bad look on Tim.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30103509

#my writing #tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #tim stoker #jontim #jontimweek #precanon #established relationship #is this ridiculous and dumb? sure #do i care? no!#we need some low stakes alright #this podcast stresses me out enough #no warnings here i believe

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