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crazyotakugal · 3 years

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Soaring Hearts

Hawks/Keigo Tamaki x Reader Fluff Lemon

Authors Notes:

Thank y’all so much for all the support!! I’m so glad you enjoyed the story and like I said, here’s part Two!! I hope y’all enjoy!!

It’s been almost a month since your “encounter” with the Number Two Hero. You’ve been catching up with your family, seeing the sights, and wondering about your meet up with Hawks. Of course, you haven’t told anyone about meeting Hawks and the events that followed. However, there’s always the unexpected…

Part Two:

CHANCE ENCOUNTERS

“ Come on, y/n! You gotta check out this place next!” Your cousin, Fuyumi, waved you over to yet another sweets shop.

It was a nice day today and Fuyumi had the day off, so she decided to take your sight seeing/shopping. The district was actually really cool and had a variety of different shops, but you really didn’t have much money to spend. Since your dad ditched you, things have always been tight. If your uncle, the number one Hero, had not paid for your trip, you wouldn’t have been able to visit. However, you’d never tell your family about your financial situation.

“Oooohhh!! They have that awesome cake and milk tea!! Let’s get some!” Fuyumi grabs your hand and starts to drag you into the shop.

“Umm, Fuyumi, maybe we should slow down?” You really couldn’t afford it, but didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

“Oh no worries! Dad’s covering everything today! He insisted!” She beamed.

“Uuuuhhh…” You were at a lost for words.

You just decided to go along with it and allowed yourself to be dragged along. Despite your uncle’s attitude, he was actually a really kind person. You remember your mom calling him a monster and saying he was evil, but you just didn’t see that.

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

You and Fuyumi were sitting at a table with a neon rainbow checkerboard tablecloth and a pink vase with white daisies inside. The place was really nice for being a sweets shop. It was cutesy kind of place with different kinds of teas and sweets and the atmosphere was relaxing. You just went with whatever Fuyumi ordered. She seemed to be really happy and enjoying hanging around you. To be honest, you were really having tons of fun and you were really happy you came to Japan.

Even your encounter with Hawks.

Even if it was just a fling and as much as it made your heart ache to want to see him again, you knew your best chance was on a screen versus in person. You didn’t regret spending the night with him, but you felt bad for how it ended.

~~~ FLASHBACK ~~~

It was either really late at night or very early in the morning when you had woken up. It was really dark and you were tempted to slip back into the lull of sleep. However, you had to pee really bad. Your body felt stiff and heavy. Nature calling, you rub your thighs together, feeling a sharp pain shoot between your legs, and a stickiness there.

‘Huh? Too early for my period.’

You try to shift to get up, but something was wrapped around your waist. It didn’t feel like your covers. It was warmer and heavier. As your brain slowly started to wake up, you realized the thing around your waist was connected to something heavy pressed against your back. You try to wiggle a little bit and whatever was around your waist tighten.

You felt a lump in your throat and carefully turned your head. Holding your waist was Japan’s number two pro hero! His gold locks even messier then normal and he looked absolutely breath taking asleep. You very carefully slide away from Hawks without disturbing him, gather your scattered clothing, and tippy toe into the bathroom.

After a few minutes, you emerge from the bathroom, fully clothed. You glance over at Hawks sleeping form, feeling regret for leaving like this bubbling inside you. However, you weren’t going to put yourself through that. Even though what you two had shared was amazing, you weren’t going to kid yourself into thinking that there was anything there. You wiped a few tears from your eyes and quietly left his apartment.

~~~ End F/B ~~~

“Y/n? Hey, y/n, you there?” Fuyumi is waving a hand in front of your face.

“Oh! Oh I’m sorry!” You laughed. “I guess I was spacing out.”

A waitress comes over to your table, setting down your orders and leaves with a bow. The tea smelled amazing and the cake super delicious!

“I’m sorry, Fuyumi, what were you saying?” You take a sip of the yummy tea.

She takes a bite of the cake and swallowed it, “I was saying that there’s this big charity party that dad wants us all to attend tonight and was asking you if you had a dress you could wear?!”

You choke a bit on your cake, “What?! No! Noooo! I don’t have anything to wear that fancy! I really don’t need to go, I mean I’m just his niece!”

Fuyumi makes a slight pouty face, “But you are family! It’s for the family’s of that Camino incident, so it’s for a good cause! Dad even said we could go pick out new dresses!”

You feel really uneasy about that,” That’s not necessary! Really!”

Fuyumi just smiled at you, “Really! Don’t worry about it!”

Even though you were still getting to know Fuyumi, you knew her well enough to know there was no point to arguing with her once her mind was set. You just take a bite of your cake as she beams knowing she won.

~~~~~~

After the sweets shop, you were dragged to a few clothing stores. Fuyumi found a few dresses she liked/bought, the one she finally chose for the evening was a navy blue tie back dress that had silver glitter at the hem slowly decreasing almost non existent to the waist, almost like a starburst effect. It looked amazing on her. In fact, a lot of stuff did.

You found a few things you looked for everyday wear and lingerie, which she bought you despite your protests, but nothing you felt confident in or really suited you. Finally, Fuyumi dragged you into this one store with all kinds of clothing. That’s when it caught your eye. It was an off the shoulder dress with loop sleeves, form fitting torso with lace up front. There was a satin bow at the waist, the bow resting on your hip. The skirt flared out into two layers, the top layer was sheer parted down the middle with tiny little diamonds (not real) that ruffled at the edges. The second layer was a satin material with the same diamond accents that came down to your ankles. It was your favorite color and the price wasn’t bad at all!

“Oh wow, y/n! That’s perfect! You should try it on!” Fuyumi beamed as she snatched the dress and pushed it and you towards the dressing room. A few minutes later, you came out with it on. It fit you perfectly and you couldn’t hardly believe it was you in the mirror.

“Y/n! You look beautiful!” Your cousin smiled at you, causing you to blush a little.

‘My little sparrow is so beautiful.’

You remember the last time someone called you “beautiful” and remembering that night made you turn bright red.

~~~ Later that night ~~~

Just as you thought, it was an extremely classy affair. There were ton of big time heroes there as well as a lot of influential names. You didn’t know everyone, but Fuyumi had no problem filling you in. She looked so pretty in her dress. Natsuo and Shoto of course didn’t show up. Fuyumi was squealing about all the hot and available guys at the party.

“Oh there’s dad!” Fuyumi grabs your arm and drags you over to where your uncle was.

He, of course being number one, was surrounded by a bunch of people. He looked really annoyed, but put on a front. Occasionally, shaking a hand. Once he saw Fuyumi and you heading his way, he excused himself and to meet you halfway.

“Hey, Dad! This things really great isn’t it?” Fuyumi smiles, as always, trying to be the sweet daughter.

“Fuyumi. Y/N. You’re both looking very nice this evening.” He gave a tiniest, quickest smile.

Fuyumi beamed at the compliment and gave even a little twirl. A waiter came by and offered you three a colorful drink in a tall glass with a cherry on top. Endeavor declined, but you two each took one and thanked him.

“Um, Uncle, thank you very much for the dress,” You bowed, careful not to spill your drink.

“Hey there, Number one! You sure are popular!” A familiar voice rang, making your heart stop.

You lift your head up, to see none other than Hawks standing next to your uncle, with his hand on his shoulder with his usual grin on his face. He, like the other pro heroes there, was wearing his typical attire.

“Ugh, Hawks, let me introduce you to my daughter, Fuyumi, and my niece visiting abroad, Y/N,” Endeavor holds a hand out gesturing your way causing your heart to stop.

‘Don’t be dumb, Y/N! It was a one night stand! He probably doesn’t even remember you!’

Hawks smiles at Fuyumi warmly, gently taking her hand, but there’s a split second of surprise and recognition when his eyes turn towards you. Your breath catches in your throat as he smiles, takes your hand into his, and brings it to his lips. You feel your face turn bright red.

“Nice you meet you, Y/n,” He says with a subtle hint of sarcasm. He was acting like you’d just met, but he definitely recognized you.

“Oh my God! Is that the number one and number two pro heroes together!” Someone yelled from the crowd.

Fuyumi grabbed your hand and hurried away so you two weren’t caught in the poparatzi fire. You glanced back at Hawks, who was still looking at you as you were being led away. The crowd of reporters encircled the two heroes.

~~~~~~~~~

After the craziness with the reporters, you’d lost sight of Hawks. You’d spent the rest of the evening being dragged around by your cousin, talking, eating, and drinking. It was actually lots of fun. You got to meet a lot of new people and eat a lot of delicious food.

A little tipsy, needing some air, you excused yourself from your cousin who honestly was too engrossed in talking to this guy to notice you leave. You found a quiet place in the outside garden. The cool air felt nice on your hot skin and the scent of the flowers around you was relaxing. You sat on a bench by a fountain, closed your eyes, and took a few deep breaths. As you started to cool down, the breeze was starting to make you shiver a little.

Suddenly something soft and warm is placed on your shoulders. Your eyes shoot open and you see Hawks standing there with a gentle smile on his face, he’d placed his jacket over you. Seeing him so close to you, made your heart race and you felt a ping of guilt.

“Little Sparrow a bit chilly?” He reaches and brushes a stray hair from your burning face.

Hearing him say that nickname, flustered you because images of that night came flooding back. You felt the familiar spark of desire start from just that little touch. The memory of how those hands felt touching you made you shiver slightly.

“I, um, I…” You stutter out.

He tilts his head slightly, “hmmm?”

You bow low, “I’m so sorry! About leaving like that I mean!”

Embarrassed you ramble on, “It’s just, um, I’ve never done that type of thing. Not saying I regret what happened, but…I didn’t know what to expect afterwards and panicked and…I’m so sorry I left and didn’t say anything…”

You’re afraid to look up, but a gentle hand on your chin, turned your gaze upwards to meet his. Those wonderful lips of his gently covering your own. At first it starts slow, but then gradually becomes more passionate. One hand wraps around your waist as the other cups the back of your neck, keeping you in place. His tongue sweeps over your lips and you grant him access to your mouth without hesitation. All the desire from that night reawakening as that kiss makes you melt.

When your lips finally part, both his hands cup your cheeks bringing your face forward so your forehead was resting against his. Your noses almost touching, both your eyes shut, and you both a panting for breath. Just from that kiss, you could tell that you probably were already soaked down there. Your eyes locked when you opened them. Desire burning so brightly behind his gold orbs.

You looked so beautiful to him right now. The dress you were wearing was absolutely amazing on you, your lips were red and swollen from his assault, and your cheeks were flushed. That morning, he felt sad that you had left and he hadn’t gotten your name or info. That night has been fantastic and he didn’t know what it was about you, but he just felt so drawn to you. Sure, he’d had experience with women and had some fun in his younger years. Despite the rumors about him, he didn’t go around jumping from woman to woman. That was way too risky for one, but shallow one night stands weren’t his thing.

“Y/N,” He breathed before kissing you again. His hands starting the explore your body over your dress.

“H…Hawks!” You gasp as his lips start placing kisses down your neck. Hearing your name from his lips completely overwhelmed you with need.

His arms lift you up bridal style and he flies up high onto a balcony. The door’s unlocked and Hawks carries you into the dark room. It looked like someone’s office, there were shelves with all kinds of books, a couple of couches by a fireplace, and a large wooden desk.

Hawks carries you over and gently lays you down on one of the couches, his jacket acting like a pillow, and leans over you. His lips once again taking yours captive. He uses one arm to support his weight above you as the other slides up your leg bunching the skirt of your dress higher and higher. You gasp against his mouth when you feel his fingers press against the damp cloth between your legs.

“Oh!” You toss your head back as his fingers slowly start to circle the wetness there.

“I see my lovely sparrow is still so sensitive,” he murmurs as he kisses your shoulder, his fingers dipping beyond your soaked panties.

“Keigo!” You cry out and you feel Hawks shutter above you, feeling how wet you already were for him and already crying his name.

He couldn’t handle it anymore. He gets up off of you, you hear the sound of a belt buckle being undone and the sound of rustling clothing. You give a surprise squeal as you feel your panties being pulled off you. Hawks pushes your skirt all the way up to your waist and settles himself between your legs. Before you can say anything, he sheaths himself into you with one thrust. You can feel him fill every part of you, once again stretching you.

“Ahhh!” Your body shudders as you cum just from the sensation of him utterly filling you.

“Did my sparrow just cum from me just putting it inside?” He says with a cocky tone as he starts to move, “You really are made for me! Fuck! You feel so good!”

You dig your nails into his clothed back as your rocked into ecstasy. You look up at Hawks; his face twisted with pleasure and his beautiful red wings completely spread out above the two of you. Your tangle your fingers in his blond hair and bring his lips crashing down onto yours.

The sounds of moans and slapping skin fill the room.

“You’re so hot and wet! It’s like heaven inside you!” He breaths, never halting his thrusts, “God Sparrow, you’re taking me so wonderfully. You’re just the perfect fit!”

You start to feel that wonderful familiar knot start to build again. Hawks thrusts start getting a little rougher and deeper. A film of sweat covering both your bodies. His length hitting the entrance of your womb over and over again. The pleasure is just as intense as before that you feel your mind slipping away.

“Keigo! I’m gonna…oh God! I’m gonna!” You sob out, feeling yourself about to tumble down that peak any moment.

Hawks grabs your hips in his hands and pounds into you mercilessly. He burned the vision of you in his mind. Your h/c spilled all over as your head thrashes about, you withering underneath him with absolute bliss plastered on your face, and those lovely lips of yours swollen, parted, quivering as you start to reach your peak. That lovely dress of yours bunched at your hips giving him a wonderful view of himself being swallowed by your lovely pussy.

“Y/n, cum for me! That’s it! Cum for me sparrow!” He urges, pushing his hips against that spot a few times, his cock hitting your cervix, before you finally tumble over.

“KEIGO!” You scream, tossing your head back as your orgasm hits you. You cling to the couch as it washes you over. He holds his grip on your hips as he pounds you.

Hawks loses it when he feels you clamp down onto him, cumming around his cock. Your hot fluids gushing all over him. A few sloppy thrusts later, he’s calling out your name as he fills you to the brim. Another climax hits you as feel his dick twitching and filling you. You both lay there, panting afterwards.

You both hold each other on the couch, bodies still connected. Hawks still breathless, placing occasional kisses on your shoulder. He didn’t want to leave your warmth yet. After a few more minutes of holding you, mumbling soothing words, Hawks slips from your depths. He watches as your combined fluids seep from your opening slightly and catches your soft whimper once he left you.

Hawks sits up and gathers you in his lap, holding you to his chest. You smelt amazing. Like a sweet dessert. Your h/c was soft and your skin as well. It felt so nice holding you like this. You laid your head on his chest and gave into him holding you. His fingers gently stroking your hair. You didn’t want to be parted from him yet. You wished time would freeze and you two could stay like this. He smelt like rain. His warmth radiating from his body into yours. You feel a bit of sleepiness come over you.

“We should go before someone comes in and we get in trouble for staining their expensive couch,” Hawks whispers in your ear, bringing a bright red blush to your face.

You get up on your unsteady legs and straighten yourself up. You look around, a bit panicked, for your panties that you’d been wearing, but couldn’t see where Hawks had tossed them too. Your face turned bright red thinking how horrifying it would be if someone found them.

“Looking for something?” Hawks smiles at you, holding the bunched up lace garment in his hand.

“H…hey!” You feel your face burn even hotter. “Give those back!”

You go to try to snatch your panties from his hand, but of course he’s too fast for you and easily dodges. You go to try and grab them again, but this time he catches your wrist, pulling your body against his.

He smiles down at you, giving you a playful wink,”Consider these my hostage so you don’t go disappearing on me again.”

You make a pouty face at him and playfully punch him in the chest. He simply laughs it off.

His lips brush yours as he stuffs the material into his jacket pocket and lifts you up again. He effortlessly leaps down the balcony, safely with you to the ground. He gently sets you down on your feet. You feel his hand cover yours then sliding something between your fingers. It was his card, but at the bottom was a hand written phone number. You look up at him again and he reaches to brush a hair from your face. You looked absolutely adorable at that moment, looking up at him with big, questioning eyes.

“I don’t usually give out my personal number, but I’m willing to make an exception for you my sparrow,” He grins, ” However, now that I know you’re related to the big guy, I can easily hunt you down too.”

You give him a look and mumble under your breath, “You can try.”

He’s taken aback for a moment, then bursts into laughter. You were just too cute. He couldn’t help himself, wraps an arm around your waist, and kisses you deeply before he finally steps away from you.

He flaps his wings and takes off a few feet into the air. Small red feathers raining down all around you.

“Until I see ya around, Y/N!” He grins before taking off into the air. Leaving you looking up at the night sky as he disappears.

~~~~~~~~~~

So that’s it for part two!! Thank y’all so much and I’ll be working on part three soon. :D

#hawks #my hero academia #bnha #anime #hawks x reader smut #hawks x reader fluff #hawksxreader #bnha hawks #keigo tamaki x reader smut #keigo tamaki x reader #keigo tamaki #keigo tamaki x reader fluff

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ayellowcurtain · 3 years

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Let me make you go down in history

Chapter 1

Wilhelm moves again, lying on his side now. The view of the still locked door is better from this angle.

It's getting late, and he should give up already. Simon can be stubborn, and he sounded very sure when he said he didn't want to be a secret. He's not one to Wilhelm but he knows how a meeting late at night, locked inside a bedroom can seem like a secret. He didn't even mention anything on the five seconds talk they had earlier, in the middle of the halway with everyone quietly trying to hear their private conversation. But in the back of Wilhelm's head he thought Simon would give in, and at least come see him after over a month apart. Nothing needs to happen, obviously. He checks his phone again: no new messages, and Wilhelm can't spend another second wondering if Simon will come.

He opens some random video on youtube and readjusts his blanket, pulling to his shoulder, aware he's still wearing his sweatpants, and a shirt just because he's afraid someone will knock carefully, and he'll have to run to the door. And he doesn't want Simon seeing himself almost naked, sending the wrong message like he was waiting for Simon to come just for them to have sex or something.

He'll probably fall asleep with all these clothes, and he'll have to wake up in the middle of the night to get rid of them. He can't pay attention to the videos because his stupid phone is too small, his eyes keep wondering to the door behind it. After five videos he slams his phone against the mattress, sitting up, pushing everything out of his way, carefully putting his sneakers back on, standing right against the door, biting his nails, feeling how fast his heart is beating. If someone, anyone sees him walking around the school late at night, it’ll be a nightmare. He’s safe here, the school feels like the safest place he can be but still. People will talk, and will film, and everything that they can if given the chance.

He unlocks the door carefully so as not to make a sound. He’ll find any excuse, or even threaten to demand any action against anyone’s family if they dare to open their mouth to tell anyone that he’s been walking around the school late at night. He needs to see Simon and that’s it.

Someone knocks before he can open the door, he feels how the wood shakes with the quiet, one knock, and he smiles to himself, getting rid of the smile a second later as he opens the door.

Finally, Simon is right there, looking to the side to check if he’s really alone, and then he looks at Wilhelm, with a face that he’s disappointed at himself for being here. Wilhelm stands to the side, and Simon comes in, waiting for him to close and lock the door.

“Were you sleeping?”

Wilhelm shakes his head. “No, couldn’t sleep.”

They look at each other for a long time, and Wilhelm smiles, shaking his thoughts to the back of his mind, looking around, grabbing some dirty clothes from the bed, throwing inside the basket on the corner to give them some room to sit.

“Are you sleepy…?” He asks, even though he knows that even if Simon is sleepy, he would never accept an invitation to sleep here. Even if Wilhelm promised he would behave himself.

“Not really...I guess my body is still in the time zone that I don’t have to wake up stupidly early tomorrow.”

Wilhelm laughs, nodding his head, sitting on his bed slowly as to show Simon he can do it too.

“Are you going to practice tomorrow?”

“Aren’t you?” Simon lifts his eyebrows, his thin, but beautiful lips turning slightly up on the corners. Wilhelm gets distracted for a second with his curls that are a little shorter now, feeling like Simon just got a haircut, and he looks rested, and happy, and Wilhelm wonders if he was the only one constantly worrying during the holidays. Not about the classes he had to take to learn how to behave like a king, but thinking about Simon, about how this would go, if Simon would really treat him like a stranger, or just a friend that never kissed him. Maybe those thoughts never even crossed Simon’s mind, maybe he was busy having fun with his friends, going out to eat every day, or watch a football match, or ride their bikes…

“Depends if I’ll be able to sleep enough.”

Simon laughs, and rolls his eyes, and Wilhelm knows he understood everything wrong - even though Wilhelm would be down for that possibility too.

“It’s because apparently I have problems falling asleep these days.”

“You were a pretty good sleeper before.” Simon finally sits on the bed, but with some distance between them, not as much as Wilhelm would think, though, and that makes him happy, relaxing his shoulders a little bit.

“Maybe it was the company.” He tries, smiling a little bit, and Simon laughs again, shaking his head, and Wilhelm laughs.

“This bed is way too small.”

“Are you complaining?”

“No, Wilhelm. I’m just saying it’s small for you. Just you.”

Wilhelm nods his head, squeezing his hand against the other to give himself some feeling that this is really happening. He’s with Simon again, safe at school.

“I like this bed...it’s bigger than the one in the other room too. So that’s nice.”

Simon exhales a laugh, and the sound makes Wilhelm look at him, curious with what he’s laughing about.

“You really like it here, huh? Who would have thought that weird, new guy that kept hiding at parties to be able to run away would one day like this place.”

Wilhelm slips back until he can find the wall behind his bed, always lying down because it was further away than he anticipated, staring at Simon’s back for a second, his curls twisting perfectly against the soft nape of his neck…

“I do like it here. I feel safe now. I know the people here, the good, and the bad ones. I know what I can or can’t do-“

“And what you can get away with.” Simon adds, smiling at Wilhelm behind his shoulder.

“Yeah. I have control on how things go. I know I would have the right people to help me if I needed to.”

“This is your kingdom.” Simons explains, and he has this sarcasm in his voice but he’s not wrong. Wilhelm really looks at him, deep inside his soft, but smartass eyes, and nods his head.

“This is my kingdom. At least for the next two years I’ll have some control of my life. And maybe when it’s done, I’ll have found a way to control more outside of here. No secrets…”

Simon nods his head, not as certain or as happy as Wilhelm feels to have somewhere he can feel completely safe. He looks at the window, and points, looking at Wilhelm again.

“I see you have curtains.”

Wilhelm nods his head, sitting up again because the position makes him feel like they’re closer.

“I do. I asked for them before I even left, and they were here when I got here this morning…”

Simon keeps looking at it like there’s something to analyze. It’s the most plain curtain Wilhelm has ever seen.

He stares at Simon instead, at how beautiful he is, and how his memory didn’t give Simon any justice. He thinks about him coming here late at night, how it has to mean something. He would never, ever come if it didn’t, if he, somehow, managed to actually stop liking Wilhelm while they were apart. He wouldn’t be here if Wilhelm meant any less than he did months ago. So it didn’t work: his attempts of actually ending his feelings, or hiding them deep enough where he wouldn’t care about them. He likes Wilhelm enough to risk being caught again, and that’s enough for right now.

He holds Simon’s face in the way they do since the first party, he squeezes his chin a little bit, and turns his face to make Simon look at him. He doesn’t think twice, just presses their lips together for a long second, doing it again because he doesn’t know if this will happen again any time soon.

Simon sighs, and looks down, making Wilhelm quietly let go of his face.

“You can sleep here if you want. We can sleep on opposite sides if you feel better that way.”

Simon laughs, looking at him, lifting his eyebrows.

“Really?”

“What? Yes, really!” Wilhelm smiles, pushing himself to sit against the wall, carefully putting his legs up to not touch Simon, stretching himself under the sheets to lie on his side, as flat as he can to give Simon enough room at the edge of the bed where he can comfortably lay. Simon follows, struggling a little bit to find the other ends of the sheets on the other side, adjusting his position once he’s finally under the blanket.

Wilhelm would rather sleep hugging him, kissing until they fall asleep, obviously, but he won’t say anything.

“Do you need more space?” Simon laughs, shaking his head. “Can I take my clothes off?”

“What, Wilhelm? You can’t sleep wearing clothes for one night?” Simon complains, but he’s laughing.

“No, Simon! Pants keep squeezing my ankles whenever I move!”

“Like any of us can move much in this bed.” Simon sits back up, and Wilhelm waits, watching as he takes his shirt off, he squeezes the blanket not to sit up, and kiss his chest, all the way to his mouth. But that gesture is a clear answer that yes, he can take his clothes off if he really needs to, so he sits up too, lifting his hips to push the sweatpants down, and he watches as Simon quietly changes position to lie to the same direction as Wilhelm will sleep.

He stops moving for a second, smiling, but he quickly goes back to what he’s doing before Simon will notice him staring. He lies down carefully once he’s done with his pants, and shirt, and he holds the blanket again, very aware there’s not much space for him to put his arms if not around Simon but he has his arms crossed over his chest, a clear sign this is just two friends sharing a bed while half naked.

Wilhelm feels safe here, more at home than ever before, so he stops over worrying, and puts his arm around Simon’s small waist, pulling him closer, noticing how he relaxes his body a little bit.

Simon sleeps first, almost right away, and Wilhelm smiles to himself, watching what he can of Simon’s face before he can carefully reach the bedside lamp to turn it off.

#young royals #young royals netflix #wilhelm x simon #prince wilhelm #simon #wilmon

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laketaj24 · 4 years

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Marked

Author’s Note: Hey! This piece was requested, and I decided to make it a few parts. So here is the first, and this part is based on one of my favorite songs, Slow Dancing in a Parking Lot. I really like hometown, slow country ass romances lol. So this is what I am giving you! I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Happy Reading! (My taglists and requests are open!)

Warnings: Public Sex, Fluff, Language, Dubcon, OMEGAVERSE

Pairings: Alpha!Henry Cavill x Omega!Reader

M A S T E R L I S T

“Hi.” You waved at your new neighbor. The small family of four seen you a total of seven times and still had not introduced themselves once. Where was the small-town charm you’d seen in all those movies?

The man looked to you first, tall and muscled he waved. “Good morning!”

“Morning!” You yipped, finally, some interaction. “Your family is beautiful.” Those were the only words that you could think of besides saying something about the weather.

“Thank you, how are you liking Longview?”

“Love it.” You lied. It had been two weeks, you’d left the house a total of three times and each time you got lost. “It’s beautiful here.”

The drizzle of rain started overhead, it always rained in Washington, maybe that’s why you stayed in all those days without hesitation. It was sunnier in Southern California, and there was always something to do, here it was the opposite.

“That’s wonderful,” he yelled before ducking into his blue minivan. Your neighbor waved quickly as he backed out of his driveway and onto the road.

The family next door was the only one for about five miles, besides the one across the street, and he never really made an appearance other than coming home from work. You liked to people watch, it was easy to do when there were only two houses to watch. You made your way back into the house, nursing the warm cup of coffee.

When you moved here, you were no stranger to the place. Summers had been spent here with your uncle, sometimes holidays, and upon his death, you inherited the house that gave you some of your fondest memories. Building a life here was what you were intended to do, and you didn’t really have a choice, it had all fell apart everywhere else you went. This inheritance was your one get of jail free card, and it came right on time.

Longview didn’t hold much, two grocery stores on each side of the town, one bookstore, three churches, and one bar called the Sly Tree. These things you’d remembered because they held an interest and you had planned to visit them all. Tonight it was Sly Tree.

The yellow crop top looked good against your honey-colored skin and with the slight inch of your mid-drift showing it gave the illusion that you were a good girl who’d come to play, or at least that's what you wanted it to mean. Who knew if they took it that way, you sat at the bar. There were a few more people in the place, but none that piqued your interest. The bartender tapped your glass. “Refill?”

“I can’t.” you shook your head, there was no hope of you getting home safely with another drink in your system. “But thank you.”

“You moved into Harper’s old place?”

“Yes, he was muy uncle.”

“Good guy, he always came in here on Sunday’s spreading lies about wolves.” The bartender was friendly enough, the cute smile and wide eyes caught your attention, but he was young.

“He told me about those damn wolves.” You giggled. They were all around the property. Hence the reason you opted to not have a dog, coming home to a missing dog was not your intention.

“crazy man, good, though.” He handed you a sprite. “Drink this.”

“Thank you... what’s your name?”

“Cody.”

“Nice to meet you, Cody, is there anything fun to do around here?”

“A few towns over, maybe.” He shrugged a matter of fact and exhaled. “Hunting is pretty cool, though? You should come in one day?”

“I’m certain she doesn’t mean killing deer.” The smooth voice came from the right of you, the familiar face of your quiet neighbor actually brought some light to your life. Maybe you wouldn’t have to feel alone after all.

“Hey.”

“Hey, neighbor,” he smirked. “A beer, please.”

You’d never talked to him, only observed from afar, and there was much to observe. He was tall, strapping with broad shoulders, a body that made you think unsavory things and, unlike the family man across the yard, unattached. “So, you do know that I’m there?”

“How could I not?”

“You never speak.”

“Haven’t had the opportunity.”

“Opportunities have been available, Cavill.” You said his last name thinking of the gray mailbox it was engraved in.

“Hmmm.” He placed the bottle cap of the beer on the table and took a swig of the beer. “You like to hide in that house of yours, I didn’t want to bother you.”

“I could say the same about you.”

“I’m Henry, and if I am not mistaken, you’re Y/N.” Henry swiveled in his chair to face you. “Your uncle spoke highly of you.”

“That’s good to know.”

“So, you’re in a bar on a Wednesday at eight, cabin fever must’ve set in?”

“It did.”

His car smelled of cedar, and you loved it. You sunk back in the passenger seat and kicked your feet up on his dashboard. The small city passed by, and for once in your unsettled roused life, you felt at ease. There was only one red light but about five intersections that lead you in a circle.

“Where are you from?” Henry asked with his arm hanging out of the window, his fingers waving as the window passed through them. “Technically, I’m from Georgia, but I lived in California for almost four years.”

“So. Cal?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“I didn’t.” he laughed. “But I’ve always wanted to use that abbreviation.”

“Good sentence, no one calls it that by the way.”

“Then how was it a good sentence.”

“I just didn’t want to diss you all the way.”

“Ah, the courtesy country girl, I lucked out.”

“Thank you.” You bit your lip. “You go to the gym often?”

“Never.” Henry laughed. “I run and lift trees.”

“All this comes from that?” It was impossible not to touch his arms, they looked terrific through the tight-fitting grey shirt.

“Five years of it, yes.”

“I guess I lucked out.” You whispered with a small grin on your face. “Where are we headed?”

“Right over there.” He pointed to the grocery store parking lot, and the car headed that way. You had never been parking, but you’d heard of it just not in a place this obvious.

“There are no lights in that parking lot.” You chuckled. “Choosing dim-lit places like this on purpose?”

“Definitely.” the half cocky answer was coated with sarcasm. Henry didn’t seem like that type. He parked the car and turned the music down. “Now, you tell me one of your favorite songs.”

“Does it have to be fast?”

“It’s totally up to you.”

“I’m drawing a blank here,” I said after a few seconds.

“I’ll pick one, you keep thinking.” He strolled through his phone, and then the slow music came through the speakers. henry climbed out of the truck, walked over to your side, and opened the door. “Dance?” He asked.

“I suck at it.”

“Good, I don’t have to whip out my Footloose moves.” He winked as he helped you from the truck into his hands. Sweet guys like him never seemed to come your way, not in Georgia, California, or any of the other places you’d been. He was novel.

He moved as if he actually could dance, pulling you against his chest and swaying playfully to the music. The song was lulling, complementing the atmosphere of the night.

“So, where’s your girlfriend?”

“Girlfriend?”

“Someone as perfect as you have to be in a longterm relationship contemplating marriage.”

He laughed, shaking his head, his eyes flickering amber in the light for a moment and then back to their normal state. Henry’s fingers intertwined in yours. “I have no one, and if I did... I am certain you’d of seen her by now.”

“Just checking.”

“What else do you want to know?”

“What can you tell me?”

“I drink every Saturday night. I get in lost in the color brown, it’s the prettiest color... Trees, dirt all beauties often overlooked, but they’re the most important ones. I sleep with the air on me. I wake up super early, walk to the river and piss every morning. I like to sing in the shower, but I suck at it. I like you.” The vomit of words was the most alluring thing you’d heard since you came here. Henry twirled you around and pulled you back to him.

“You tell every girl you take home these same lines?”

“Just one.”

“You’re smooth with your lines Henry...”

“I can still break out my footloose moves if you want?”

“No need to...” You smiled. “This is better.”

“Good. I haven’t stretched just yet.”

You shouldn’t have kissed him, your hands shouldn’t be gripping his curls, and you definitely shouldn’t be hoisting yourself upon him, but here you were doing all of it and importantly enjoying it. Your tongue lightly swiped his lips before it was met with his and a small groan. Five hours ago, you met him. You didn’t know his last name or if even shared your beliefs, but you wanted to fuck him.

“How are the public indecency charges around here?” You whispered.

“I haven’t been charged with that one yet.” He carried you to the passenger’s seat.

“There’s a first for everything.”

“I know the sheriff.” he laughed. “I think I can get us out of it.”

Everything was rushed, but it didn’t stop you from deepening the kiss and tugging on his belt buckle.

“You sure you want this?”

You press your palms into the leather seat, and he pulls your pants down to your ankles. “I haven’t been sure of anything else.” You giggle as you rock your hips against him, grinding your mound against his hardened cock. He pushed your panties aside, rubbing the head of his cock against your lips and hoisted you up.

“You’re already wet for me, sweetheart.” he pushed inside of you, throbbing and suppressing a carnal growl.

You sunk your teeth into his shoulder when he pulled you down on his cock and began to fuck you. Then his eyes met yours, and they glowed in the dim light of the parking lot, it was surreal animalistic. “I’ve been thinking about this ever since you moved in...” He fucked harder, bouncing your tits in your bra. “How I wanted to fuck you and make you mine...” he grunted.

Your head fell back in ecstasy, and he rubbed his nose down your face before his tongue licked down your chest.

“Your fucking scent.” He growled, rutting into you. “You don’t even know what you are... sweetheart.”

“What am I?” You whispered.

“Mine.” Henry’s teeth bit into your skin, and you squealed. “Omega.”

His eyes shifted again in the light, and his teeth were still in your flesh.

“Omega?”

Your uncle used to talk of omegas, again when he was drunk... You pull away from him, but he continues to fuck you. “Henry.” You moaned. “Fuck! Henry!” You feel him swell inside of you.

Henry’s bitemark was fresh on your chest as was this inflamed urge to ride him harder, your body willed as if it could not stop. “Feel it.” He commanded. “Your body knows you’re mine too.”

“Ohh, fuck!” He grew bigger, swelling as he thrust faster and then locking into you. “Don’t cu-.”

Henry’s hand clamped down over your mouth, and he shuttered, your body shuttering, joining his climax. The warmth of his cum was soothing, fucking made you want to cum again. “Get dressed.” he kissed your lips. “Now.”

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#Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill fandom #alpha!Henry Cavill #Henry cavill x reader #Henry cavill x you #henry cavill x y/n #laketa j writes

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aellynera · 3 years

Text

Enumerate (Nathan Bateman x Reader)

ENUMERATE

(hey hey. this is one of my submissions for @wasicskosgirl and her 800 follower celebration! congrats on your milestone, lovely! i wrote this in one sitting, which i rarely ever do, but the idea was immediate and persistent so this happened. i just made some final edits, and it was a lot of fun to do and i hope you all enjoy it!)

Word Count: ~1750

Summary: You have a question for Nathan. He wants reasons. You have a secret weapon.

Warnings: Some language. Innuendo. Smooches. Nathan Bateman. No actual plot, just a thing. Hopefully decently proofread. Superheroes.

with the prompt - “Don’t give me that puppy dog face. How am I supposed to say no to that?”

“This is the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”

Nathan Bateman glares at you over his glasses. Or, he would if he bothered to actually turn his attention away from the monitors in front of him, which, of course, he does not.

On the other side of the room, you’re stretched out on the bed, on your stomach with your legs bent up and ankles crossed behind you, lazily flipping through a magazine.

For once it’s not a technical journal; you’d finally put your foot down a few months ago, told Nathan you’d had enough of the esoteric mumbo-jumbo he kept all over the house, and after a few pleas and a little please, he’d caved. He might make a case that, until now, these celebrity gossip rags were a worse idea, but he can’t bring himself to do it. As a thank you, you always make sure to hand him his favorite one when you’re done with it.

You briefly debate arguing that building an AI and pissing it off so much it thought it had no other recourse than to try to escape and then stab you in the chest is probably a worse idea, but you don’t want to actually fight with him. And you’re not mean.

“I don’t know, I think it would be fun,” you call back to him.

The clicking of the keyboard never stops. He gets so involved in his work sometimes - okay, all the time, if you’re being honest - that nothing else seems to matter. You knew it isn’t really true; the fact that you’re on the bed wearing nothing besides one of his old, soft henleys and a pair of wool socks proves that. The ability to occasionally engage him in actual conversation while his mind blazes through lines of code is rare.

“I’m pretty sure we have different definitions of that word.”

“Hmm, I’m pretty sure they more than occasionally overlap.”

He scans your voice for any hint of sarcasm, any tinge of facetiousness. When he can’t detect any and can’t determine your actual intent, his eyes narrow.

“Enumerate.”

Well, sort of actual conversation.

You toss the magazine aside and sit up on the bed.

“And for every step you take towards me, I want a good reason, not some bullshit half-answer,” he continues. Still typing away, still staring at his screens.

“How do you even know I was going to walk over there?” you mutter.

“I know your operating system, kitten,” he says, “so. Enumerate. And count those steps for me. I know you’re good at counting.” If he’d bother to look at you, you’d see the slight smirk on his face, but it doesn’t matter. You hear it in his voice. You know he’s mostly teasing you.

Then again, if Nathan bothered to turn around to look at you, he’d also see the giant, exaggerated steps you’re taking on the path to his desk. It isn’t very far from bed to desk. Nathan is nothing if not efficient, and one never knows when inspiration or insomnia will strike or you might need quick data access.

But you have a secret weapon and you are going to deploy it with as little delay as possible.

The secret weapon has never failed you before.

You roll your eyes. Smug asshole. “One. It gets us out of the house.”

“We have everything we need right here. Hardly a compelling reason. Try again.”

Another giant step. “Two. A little human interaction, other than verbally sparring with me and taking me on every imaginable surface of this house, would do you some good.”

The clicking might pause for a split second. You can’t be sure because it picks up and keeps going just as it had before, as Nathan replies, “False correlation. I hate most people, in large part because they can’t keep up with me. Not like the way you do.”

You smile, even though he can’t see you, and open your mouth to keep going, but he’s not quite done. “And, if I remember correctly, and I always remember correctly-” you swear you hear his eyebrow arch “-that other part does us both some good. You haven’t had any complaints thus far, and a few of those surfaces were actually rather un-imaginable. You gotta try harder, baby.”

Damn him.

Another step, another reason. “Three. It’s what normal people do.”

The clicking finally stops and Nathan spins around in his chair. He takes you in - one foot as far out in front of the other as possible without you falling over, arms held out awkwardly to keep your balance, wearing only his shirt and your fuzzy socks, hair still a mess from the evening’s previous activities - and gives you a pointed look. “That’s what normal people do?”

You giggle, then straighten your face. You take another step. Now you’re almost in his lap. “Four. You’d look really, really hot in some spandex and a cape.”

Nathan growls and pulls you into his lap. “I said no bullshit.”

There’s your opening. Secret weapon time.

You bite your lip and give him the widest, saddest looking eyes you possibly can. You think of lost puppies and kittens, the ending of Casablanca, that song in Coco that had you bawling. And you blink once, very slowly, just for dramatic effect. Not that you need to. Your trap is set.

Nathan groans and drops his head to your chest for a moment, and then looks back up at you, scowling under his glasses. “Don’t give me that puppy dog face. How am I supposed to say no to that?”

You grin down at him. “You’re not.”

“God damn it.”

“Nathan, it will be fun,” you insist.

In response, he stands suddenly, scoops you up and tosses you back on the bed, his body caging you underneath him.

“You really want me to go to, of all the fucking things in the entire known universe, a comic con with you.” It’s not a question.

“Well, I mean, you did already buy me the tickets.”

“Beginning to regret that decision,” the resignation in his voice is strong, but you can also hear some amusement. And maybe something a little more.

You pout at him. “And my sister can’t go with me now because of some stupid emergency work thing.”

His brow furrows. “Like I don’t have actual work to do?”

“And it would be a shame to waste them…,” You blink at him a few more times.

“I’ll donate them to a children’s charity or some shit.”

You smack him lightly on the shoulder, then your arms wrap around his neck as you lean forward and whisper in his ear. “And I still say you’d look amazing in a super suit.”

“Bull. Shit,” he leans up and nips at your neck.

You smack him harder this time. “Hey, those are good reasons.”

“Will it make you happy?” he sighs.

“Yes.”

He pauses for a few minutes with his face buried in your neck, then pulls back to look at you. His stern expression cracks, ever so slightly, at the hopeful smile on your face. And those damn puppy dog eyes. “You do make a compelling argument.”

You squeal in delight, holding his face and kissing him firmly on the lips.

“But...people. A lot of people. In public,” Nathan grumbles, narrowing his eyes and giving you the fakest stern look he’s ever given you.

He knows you know he was never going to say no to you. He can’t. He may know your operating system, but his own systems fail when you run this particular subset.

And the secret weapon never fails.

You smirk back, your grin and the light in your eyes threatens to throw his brain completely offline.

“That’s where the costume comes in, Mr. Fantastic.”

Nathan scoffs. “If I have to wear a costume, it is not going to be Mr. fucking Fantastic.”

“So you’re saying you will dress up.”

“No, but...there’s better options than that.” A lie. He was serious about being seen by thousands of people in public, and at this point, he’s not above wearing a ridiculous costume just so no one actually sees him at a fucking comic con.

“Isn’t he, like, the smartest superhero though?”

He pretends to think about it for a minute, lazily tracing a finger along your jaw. “True, but. What else does he do? I mean I know I’m flexible but…”

It takes every ounce of willpower you have to not burst into a fit of laughter as you stare back into his deep eyes. “Okay, fine. What about Wonder Woman? I’d do almost anything to see you with some golden wings. And those boots? Damn, that would be hot.”

“Jesus Christ, you’re a menace.”

“You haven’t had any valid complaints thus far.”

“Fucking hell,” he mutters, then sighs. “Almost anything, huh?” His hands have dropped down your torso, and his fingertips are gliding over your smooth skin under the hem of his shirt.

You can see the wheels start turning. Your lips purse and a smile forms. “Don’t change the subject,” you chide him. “What are your other better options, then?”

“Xavier. You could push me around for the day, it would serve you right for even asking me to do this.”

The laughter rises fully and bubbles over. “Even you’re not that lucky.”

“Or maybe Iron Man. I know I could make a working suit, and that would be pretty fucking cool,” he states, matter of fact. You’re honestly not sure if you should be amused or a little worried that he’s not kidding.

“Those are definitely better options than Mr. Fantastic,” he says softly.

You raise your head up to catch his lips, but stop just before you make contact. He makes a small noise of protest, but you just shake your head ever so slightly.

“Hmm, I’m not convinced,” you whisper, your breath fanning across his mouth. “I need some good reasons. No bullshit, Bateman.”

Nathan’s groans are silenced as you surge forth and capture his lips, kissing him fiercely and thoroughly. But his silence is only temporary, and the groans return when you pull away and hook a leg around his hip.

He stares down at you as you look back at him with the biggest, saddest puppy dog eyes he’s ever seen, and you smile innocently and bite your lip. He bites his own as you softly issue one more word into the air around you.

“Enumerate.”

~end~

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tatooedlaura-blog · 3 years

Text

Forgetting

Two in a row, I appear to be on a roll ... this is not for those under 17 and nsfw :)

Sometimes, you need to forget for a little while ...

@today-in-fic

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

It was a stupid retirement gathering at the end of the day, the best way *insert sarcasm here* to end Friday, in Mulder’s opinion. It became especially fun when the assistant director who was doing the retired pointed the pair out, commenting on the Amber Lynn LaPierre case, which he called the crowning achievement in his long and lauded career with the Bureau. Thanking them for their contribution to his legacy, both nodded, smiled, said their polite thank yous while inside, wishing they were literally anywhere but there.

Then came the inevitable discussion about the case, Scully plowing ahead, dealing with most of the comments until Mulder leaned into her, mouth to ear, “I’m going to head to the bathroom. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Nodding, she continued with her end of the present conversation, then two others before she realized he still wasn’t back. Excusing herself, she slipped quietly out the door. Wondering for a moment if he’d fled the building completely or just the room, she thought, then, for some unknown reason, decided to try the stairwell before heading to the basement. Opening the oft-used door at the end of the hall, a beautiful sunset greeted her as well as a lone Mulder sitting on the first step down, quietly contemplating the world while bathed in pink and purple hues.

Sitting carefully beside him, skirt causing minor issues, “I was beginning to wonder if you’d gotten lost.”

Taking an impossibly deep breath before bumping shoulders with her, “do you think, maybe, this could be one of those nights where we get drunk and forget we work together?”

She’d asked him that exact question for the first and only time roughly four months earlier and with a moment’s hesitation to calculate where the nearest liquor store was, she returned the answered he’d been hoping for, “I think it needs to be one of those nights and you’ve got that liquor store on the corner so I vote your place.”

Bumping her a second time, he stood up, nodding his head in the direction of the stairs, “I think we’ve worked long enough today.”

She stood with just a little help from his hand, tugging her skirt straight, “agreed.”

&&&&&&&&&

She picked up the Long Island, the big pre-mix bottle, third shelf, second aisle, they shopped here a little too often, then headed to Mulder’s. Beating him there by ten minutes, she had time to clear the couch and coffee table of littered papers and hamburger wrappers, empty glasses and several pairs of socks. Smiling at the socks, she then filled the table with bottles of water, the Long Island (opened, aerator insert removed for ease of swilling) and a roll of paper towel because she knew he’d be stopping for Subway and they never sent him home with napkins.

Scully then had time to contemplate the first time they’d mentioned their question out loud. She honestly didn’t want to think about the string of events that led to her request but that night had been Rum and Coke and sitting on his couch, not sure how to start anything until Mulder said something so quiet she had to turn to hear him repeat his statement.

She ran into his mouth and from there, they’d spent a chaste 87 minutes alternating between drinking, making out, water interludes sporadic, straight rum by the end, coke chaser when they remembered until the week’s worth of tension left her shoulders, muscles warm and relaxed, lips swollen, hands never traveling below her neck except to turn her at the waist for a better angle.

Heads thoroughly spinning by the time the pair pulled apart in a mutually silent agreement that it was time, Scully went in for another kiss before looking at him blurrily, enjoying their warm, humid silence which Mulder only broke to ask, “couch or bed? I’ll take whichever you don’t want.”

Smiling at him, she stretched, much like a cat, limbs shaking, back curving, “couch is fine.”

Logistics figured a few minutes later, both were crashed in their respective beds, soundly asleep through the remainder of the night.

Mulder made it home a minute later, returning Scully to present day, and she took the bags of food from him, carrying them to the kitchen while he shed shoes, jacket, button down, leaving him in a crew-neck white t-shirt and mismatched socks. Following her into the kitchen, he grabbed the open bottle from the coffee table as he passed. Swigging deep, he handed it to her, “premix. I appreciate you more and more every day.”

“Why take the time to make it yourself when the Captain has done it for you already?” Seeing the forlorn expression still clear on his face, she turned to look at the counter, measuring up the height before glancing back at him, “help me up here, will you? I’d like to hug you face to face for once.”

Not about to question that request, he popped her up, allowing her time to adjust her skirt before handing her the bottle, “madam.”

Two gulps later, she angled the bottle in his direction, “for the win,” then waved her fingers at him, “come here.”

Obeying, he was in her arms, as close as possibly given counter and thigh restriction from skirt. Holding her had an instant effect on his blood pressure, his psyche, his heart rate and brain function, calm washing over him the longer he touched her. Not enough for him at the moment, however, he scooted her closer to the edge of the counter, skirt hiking up further, her thighs pressing his sides. About to do something about this, Scully did it for him, mouth on his neck, lips against pulse, tongue running lightly over skin. Kissing her way up his neck, across his jaw, she found his mouth, neck twisting for best access and without thought, legs locking around him, ankle hook completing the loop.

He would not be arguing.

Staying there another minute, he decided, given the course of the evening, to take creative license and wrapping arms around her waist, picked her up, moving her to the couch without breaking contact. She snagged the bottle as he moved them past it and knowing he had to set her down because sitting down with her like this would break her ankles and nobody needed that tonight, Scully grinned as she slid to the floor, her skirt staying stuck to her upper thighs. Another three deep swallows from the bottle, she handed it to Mulder, watching his perfectly sculpted throat down five, “next time we come up for air, water break.”

“Agreed.” Sitting right down on the couch, he expected her to drop beside him but instead, she wiggled the skirt a little higher and climbed onto his lap, “last time, I had a crick in my neck. I’m not dealing with that again.”

Hands firmly on her waist, he smiled, “I like your thinking.”

Mouth immediately back on his, he managed to keep his hands to himself until the liquor began buzzing his brain, separating thought from consequence but keeping intact decorum at its most rudimentary, his hands hesitantly shifting four inches above her waist, still above her shirt until Scully pulled back, whispering into his mouth, “I don’t mind.”

He didn’t take full advantage of the situation but the simple feeling of running his hands up and down her back made him feel like he’d just won the lottery, over silk blouse, ridge of bra back, imaginary outline of existing tattoo. Another few minutes and Scully moved away, lips red, cheeks pink, eyes bright as she reached behind her, breasts jutting into Mulder’s face, looking for water. Drinking down half a bottle, she handed the rest to Mulder, “it’s getting warm in here.”

Managing to keep his eyes mostly on hers, “that okay?”

Tossing the empty water bottle behind her, she then took up the Long Island, another two deep pulls before offering it to her partner, “very good.” After he drank, she deposited it back on the table and returned like a magnet to his mouth, her hands now in and through his hair, cradling his ears, thumbs running over temples, hips sliding forward until a minute later, she stood up, “I still have most of my faculties and I’m making a request.” She wavered once as the room tilted ever so slightly, “this skirt is irritating the hell out of me. Would you mind if I take it off?”

With a grin, he fell in love withher all over again, “no, that’s fine.”

“Thanks.” Skirt hitting the floor a moment later, her blouse hung low enough not to reveal anything of interesting importance and settling back on his lap, she nodded at him, “much better.”

“I’m glad.”

This time, when she re-settled, she re-settled closer to him, his obvious arousal at the whole situation not bothering her in the slightest, unknowingly grinding once against him before commencing with their previous activities.

Liquor working its magic, Mulder decided that given she was now in her underwear on his lap, that afforded him hands on ass, which elicited a tandem ‘hhmmmm’ from both and another inch hip-slide forward. Deciding what the hell, he then moved his hands up under her shirt, finding warm skin and bumping backbone, hands callous-rough as they danced over rib and ridge. Feeling her smile, he felt her leave his lips, moving down his chin to his Adam’s Apple, mouthing it several times before following down to his shirt collar, then sitting back, putting welcome pressure on particular parts, “it is only fair that since I have no skirt, you need no shirt.”

He loved that she lost her contractions when she drank. Apostrophes went out the window for some reason, all words spoken precisely and slurry but never contracted. Sitting up immediately, he pulled the offending garment off and dropped it to the couch beside them, “sounds fair indeed.”

Another two mouthfuls of Long Island for both, her hands ran immediately over his chest, her deep breath and stuttered sigh telling him more than words ever could, fingers playing over his nipples, tongue tracing his collarbone. It was when she gripped his sides and smashed herself down on him, favorite parts aligning, that he finally let out a moaning groan, “Scully.”

Whispering in his ear, “was that good?”

“If you’re trying to kill me, yes.”

Sitting back again, she wiggled a few more times, lighter yet oddly, more intense. Quick glance at the clock across the dimly lit room, she looked down at him, his gaze filled with unmistakable adoration, “it has been over an hour, need a break?”

“I will never need a break from you.”

Reaching back, she snagged another water, drinking half again and waiting until Mulder finished it to toss it the way of the first empty. Next, more liquor went down, bottle half gone at this point before, “would you mind if I took the blouse off? This thing holds heat like you would not believe.”

Words gone, head nodded, her shirt landed on the table, sweat glistening above and below white cotton bra but before he could process more than half a reverent look, he had her face pulled back to his, hands sliding down her slowly cooling back and right past the top of her underwear, bare hands on bare ass in under a second.

She did not complain, rocking a rhythm on him that was making him see stars.

Everything was logical to them up to this point. The logic of six years and half a bottle of Long Island Ice Tea but whatever and Mulder’s next suggestion followed their logical pursuit. It took a few minutes to form the idea, then the sentence, but pulling away from her mouth, whimpering either internally or for the world to hear, he had to share it with her, “um, so as much as I am loving this, there are parts of me that are dying because they are trapped, wonderfully so but still friction-ly, and are … shit, Scully, the zipper of my pants is about to cause some damage.”

“Hell. Okay.” She stood immediately and hips still moving in some sort of fluid motion which could very well hold Mulder’s attention until the end of time, he took advantage and lifting his butt, soon was sitting there in boxers, happy for relief and unembarrassed by his obvious reaction to her.

She admired for a moment, then settled right back on him, body pressed firmly against all available Mulder.

His hands moved to her hips, moving her against him, the rhythm of his mouth getting erratic as all attention moved elsewhere. Scully was having her own amount of trouble holding focus and when his hands moved to unclasp her bra, she could have sang the Halleluiah chorus had she thought to leave his lips.

Needing a final pull of liquor before anything else, she sat back on his thighs, three mouthful going down her throat first, then Mulder took four, capping the bottle and dropping it to the floor before his mouth moved not to hers again but to her breasts, taking in his dreamt of mouthful, other hand filled with other breast as Scully shut her eyes, shifting and sliding against him, parts finally making solid contact and she stood suddenly, swaying as she shed her last piece of clothing, then demanded Mulder’s boxers with a silent outstretched hand and begging eyes. Obliging, she was back on him, wetter than wet, rubbing hard head against aching clit, then, she slid back and forth against him, Mulder’s mouth latched back to her breast and his hands carrying her forward and back. Letting go of her, he told her, alcohol slur evident, “I am so close to that spot, Scully. Another inch and we could … just … we could.”

Leaning forward, she slipped her teeth around his earlobe, tugging lightly before sucking for a moment, then whispering, “there cannot be liquor involved when that happens. Sorry.”

There was absolutely no reason for her to apologize and he told her as such, “but can something else happen because unless you stop moving, it’s going to anyways and I’d rather have permission to do so.”

His strained voice made her grin and sitting back once again, she ran one hand down her belly and bracing with the other against his knee, she began rubbing her clit, “oh, I am good with everything else.”

Needing to ask one last time, “do you need any more Tea?”

“I have not got time for that now.” And she rubbed a little faster.

Wrapping his hand around himself, their knuckles kept bumping until they found a matched rhythm and as her muscles clenched and her head dropped back, he came as well, all over himself and her, not caring about anything in the moment but his Scully.

Then their combined mess along with the sweat generated by the last hour and a half suddenly got the better of his ass’s grip on the couch. She moved slightly, he shot forward, feet unable to catch him, and both, for a fleeting moment, wondered if there was an earthquake as they slid to the ground, Scully’s back sliding against the coffee table edge, Mulder’s bare butt landing on a crackling water bottle.

He managed to get an arm around her though, so she didn’t hit the floor at the worst angle ever and ‘sluggish but still there’ reflexes on her part had her move enough not to break his dick, softening but still hard enough to cause some trouble had it been bent sideways under her drunken weight.

Both then sat there in silence, until, of course, the giggles set in.

It took a good five minutes to get things under control and not set the other off with a simple look. Scully, now wrapped in one of Mulder’s many blankets, looked from the ¾ empty Long Island bottle to the water in her hand, “can I stay here tonight?”

Also in a blanket, and equally worried about the amount they’d consumed, he opened two more bottles of water for them, the world beginning to tilt again, “like I’d let you drive anywhere after that much Captain.”

Looking over at him, grin wide as she missed her mouth with the water bottle on the first try but making it the second, she swallowed half before speaking, “for a minute there, I actually did forget we worked together.”

“Me, too.”

Shifting up to give him a kiss on the cheek, she swayed into him, forgetting how to sit back upright momentarily, “now, if you would be so kind as to find me a pillow and another blanket, I am going to go clean up, then come back here and go to bed because if I do not lay down very soon, I am going to tip over even more than I am now.”

Contractions still gone, he knew she wasn’t kidding about the tipping thing, the alcohol coursing through her veins would have her asleep in seconds and sporting one hell of a headache tomorrow. Carefully standing, he got her up and to the bathroom, blanket firmly in place and then, collecting some pajama pants and a t-shirt for her, he handed them through the partially open door, ignoring the sounds of her peeing, then the water running.

Seriously, how many times could he fall in love in one evening?

Soon, she was back, curled on the couch, Oscar the Grouch shirt in place, blankets piled high, head deep in down pillow. Beckoning him to her level with her finger, he had to kneel, knowing if he leaned, he’d fall, “what’s up?”

“I love you, Mulder. You are my best friend and I love you.”

Kissing her forehead, he struggled to stand back up, “I love you and you are my best friend, too.” Pointing to the table, “I left you an empty pot so if you puke, do it in that, please, all right?”

“Do not forget one for yourself.”

Holding up his own, “got it. G’night.”

She was already asleep.

He would dream well tonight.

&&&&&&&&&&&

Since the curtains and blinds were closed, the light didn’t wake either of them until late afternoon. Scully was up before Mulder and after downing several glasses of water and what felt like a handful of aspirin, she opened her forgotten Subway, settling with it on the couch, remote in hand.

Mulde wandered out a few minutes later and stared at her for a moment, then retrieved his sandwich as well, grabbing the bottle of aspirin before sitting down beside her, tugging half her blanket over his knees, “hi.”

“Hi.”

“What are we watching?”

“The Flintstones.”

Giving her wild hair and dark hickey on her neck a good, long look, he aimed a grin at her, “mind if I join you?”

Taking in a matching bruise on Mulder’s neck and his dancing eyes, “your couch.”

Settling in a little better, he unwrapped his roast beef on white, “so, honest answer, please. Should we be embarrassed or anything about last night?”

Scully thought while she chewed, then smiling crookedly, “the only thing I’m embarrassed about is having ended up on the floor.” Looking at him critically, “what about you? Honest answer.”

“Mostly I’m unnerved by how much my ass was sweating, in all seriousness.” Taking his first bite, he felt calmer than he had in forever, “want to stay over again tonight?”

“Sure. I hadn’t planned on leaving this couch until tomorrow at the earliest.”

“Mexican for dinner?”

“As long as they deliver.”

“They do.”

Mid-chew, she leaned over and kissed his t-shirted shoulder, “yay.”

#msr #nc-17 #a wee bit of smut #actually more than that #but whatever #xfiles fanfic #xfiles #MulderNScully #My writing

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shawtygonemad · 3 years

Text

Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better.

A/N: This story is dedicated to my uncle and cousins who are hard of hearing. Even with my botched ASL you all still love me.

Daryl Dixon x Connie

One-Shot

- Please note that anything signed will be in bold and anything written will be in italics.

Connie woke that morning bright and chipper. The sun wasn’t even up yet and she was already getting her day started. Her sister on the other hand was not much of a morning person. Connie was kind enough to let her sleep until the sun rose. She always enjoyed finding different little ways to wake her little sister up. Some days it’s tickling her nose with a leaf while other days she practically flops down on her.

Today Kelly happened to be in a deep sleep in which nothing barely woke her. Connie breathed out a sigh of annoyance at that. All of her tricks didn’t work. Instead she took it upon herself to draw on her sister’s bare arm. She smirked as she slowly got to work. The older woman was no artist, but she still had fun. She wrote ‘World’s Best Sister’, but crossed out best and wrote ‘Okayest’ above it. Then she drew some other pictures and wrapped it up by putting Kelly and her crushes initials together in a heart.

Once she became bored she decided to go downstairs for some breakfast. Today would be an uneventful day since neither of them had been assigned to do anything. Connie was never a fan of days off. She always needed to be doing something and loved to help out. They should always be doing something to earn their keep. The people of Alexandria were kind enough to let them have their own house. A house that just so happened to be next door to the tall and ruggedly handsome Daryl Dixon. The newly unofficial leader of Alexandria since Michonne left. He lived there with his niece, nephew, Lydia, and dog. Their family dynamic was so cute to watch. For a man who never really had a family until the end of the world he was trying his best and doing a damn good job of it.

Even though Connie may not be able to hear she could still feel vibrations from noise. That’s how she knew her sister finally woke up and discovered her new tattoo sleeve. She could feel the stomping through the ceiling. When she could feel the rushed, heavy, footsteps coming down the stairs. She grinned and chuckled to herself as she bolted it for the front door. If she didn’t run now then her sister would for sure catch her which would end up in a wrestling match on the floor.

The warm morning air and sunshine hit her face as she booked it down the front stairs. She looked around for a hiding spot when she noticed Daryl standing on his porch smoking a cigarette. He watched her with curious eyes. Knowing she had less than a minute before her sister caught up to her Connie bolted it for Daryl. He was caught by surprise when she hid behind him. They were back to back with their bodies aleigned from their ankles all the way to where her curly locks reached the middle of his shoulder blades.

As if timed perfectly, Kelly busted out the front door and looked around for her sister. Thankfully Daryl decided to roll with the odd situation and acted casul. Kelly noticed him and decided to approach since he was close friends with Connie. Or rather, more than close friends she always teased her older sister.

“Have you seen Connie,” Kelly asked.

Daryl stood still as to not expose his friend for whatever reason she was hiding.

He cleared his throat before speaking, “Not this mornin’. Why?”

“‘Cause she’s sneaky and devious and knows that I’m a deep sleeper,” the teen huffed before retreating from the porch.

Once the coast was clear Daryl nudged his ankle against hers to signal it was safe. When she rounded to his front she had a huge devious smirk on her face. The hunter shook his head in amusement. This woman was always up to something. It’s what he admired about her the most. Even in the darkest of days she was still able to smile and see the bright side.

“What you do,” he shakily signed.

Connie smiled as she reached for the notepad and pen in her back pocket. Her heart always felt a warm squeeze every time he signed to her. She almost cried when she discovered he had an ASL study book. He was trying. Not only that, but he was trying for her. Not a lot of people did that or even wanted to waste that kind of time. They usually spoke louder, elongated their words, or just wrote down in her notepad. Most times Kelly had to translate. Unfortunately this wasn’t anything new. People weren’t considerate in the old world and they sure as hell weren’t in this new world.

“You’re getting better,” she wrote before giving him some tips on how to properly say ‘what did you do’. Without those extra words he just sounded hilariously like a caveman. “I was bored, so I drew on her while she was asleep.”

“Why,” he signed that one with ease.

“Why not,” Connie grinned.

She knew Daryl understood her because he seemed to be chuckling while shaking his head.

“Do you have any plans for today,” she wrote on the paper.

She noticed him shake his head and his mouth move to a ‘na’ sound which usually meant no for him. It was his heavy southern accent she had to get used to. He even signed with a southern accent much to his bewilderment.

This man was so incredible. He was kind, enjoyed learning and never got offended when corrected, and sometimes it was hard to read his lips. Not because of his accent, but because she started to wonder how they feel on her own. Even though his lips seemed slightly chapped compared to hers she just knew the kiss would feel amazing.

“Might go hunting or something,” he wrote.

“I’ll go with,” she excitedly replied.

“‘S not a good idea,” he spoke as he turned his head to make sure he still had an eye on Dog.

Connie frowned before gripping his chin and bringing it back to face her. She gestured with her fingers that he should look at her when he speaks so she can read his lips. He took a deep breath before speaking again.

“I hunt better alone.”

“Being alone is dangerous,” she signed.

Daryl’s eyebrows furrowed as he tried to understand what she said. The only thing he caught was dangerous. She must have been telling him the dangers of going out alone. He pointed his thumb in the direction of his pet across the street.

“I got Dog.”

Connie stared at him blankly before writing in her pad again. She held it up for him to see, her face still neutral.

“Because he’s so ferocious.”

He could practically hear the sarcasm in her handwriting. He turned back around the check on his animal. Dog was currently sitting across the street on a patch of grass with his niece Judith. She was currently painting his nails with a sparkly blue polish that Connie found for her. Dog sat there patiently while allowing her to do so. He tail was wagging ever so slightly so you knew he was enjoying it. Daryl rolled his eyes before turning back to his neighbor.

“Fine. We leave in an hour,” he told her before stepping off the porch to retrieve his dog.

Soon the pair were off trekking through the woods with a begrudging Dog. He must have really wanted to stay at his spa day with Judith. The thought made Connie chuckle. Daryl glanced over at her, but didn’t say a word. Her chuckle was sweet but he thought nothing could compare to her laugh. It was so bright and boisterous. It was able to bring light to even the darkest days.

Daryl noticed Dog froze in his steps. This caused Daryl to stop and hold his arm out for Connie to follow suit as well. He placed a finger on his lips - a universal sign to be quiet. She rose an eyebrow at him. As if she didn’t know to be quiet already. Does this man really think she’s never been hunting before? What does he think kept her and Kelly alive this entire time.

She swiftly took out her slingshot before bending down to grab a sharp and rigid rock. It was placed in the holder and fired off before Daryl could even lift his crossbow. With the speed, force, and rigidness from the rock it was easily able to go straight through the woodchuck’s head. Daryl looked at her impressed. She gave him a knowing smirk before signaling Dog to go retrieve it. When he returned she tossed Daryl the animal to put on the kill string. She placed her hands on her hips as she stared Daryl down. She then tried to speak.

“Anything you can do, I can do better,” she sassed.

Even though it was a little hard to understand, Daryl could hear her clear as day. He quickly snatched the notepad from Connie’s back pocket, much to her surprise. Once he was finished scratching down his sentence he lifted the pad up for her to see.

“Is that a challenge?” It said.

She grinned in excitement at the idea of this game. She was always competitive, and she had a feeling Daryl was too. The notebook was grabbed back and she began to write on it while snickering. Soon she lifted it up to show the redneck. There were two columns. One said Connie and the other said Daryl. Connie had 1 tally mark in her column while Daryl had a frowny face. Daryl laughed.

“We’ll see who’s frowning afterwards.”

“Bet?” she signed.

“What’s the wager,” Daryl asked, slightly afraid of her punishment.

She wrote down on the pad again before lifting it up.

“Winner’s choice?”

That made Daryl feel a little more at ease. It also meant that he'd have to work his ass off to beat her. He really wanted to win and had a great prize in mind. Connie may be good, but he’s been hunting for 35+ years. He nodded in agreement with her. They even shook hands to make it official.

This game took place for hours. Both of them enjoying the hunt, a few laughs, but especially each other’s company. They were so entranced with hunting that they completely forgot to even keep score. Hunting with the two could have continued all day, but it was already late afternoon. Dog was the one to call it a day. He was laying down panting hard, too tired to go and retrieve the final catch. The humans decided to agree with him. Besides, they had plenty of meat to feed their entire community. All three of them walked back in comfortable silence. It wasn’t until they were inside the gates of Alexandria and before their houses that they remembered the game.

Connie practically flung the notepad open just for her to frown. They stopped placing tally’s after 3 catches each. Technically they both won by the Talley's.

“A tie,” she signed.

Her heartbeat sped up. During the entire hunt she was thinking of what his punishment should be. The only thing that kept circling back was for him to kiss her. She finally told herself that she would do it, and psyched herself up the entire time in the woods. Now it was a tie, and her stomach tightened in disappointment. She lost her chance.

“What does that mean,” he asked, seeming slightly disappointed as well.

“We both win?” she wrote.

“What did you want,” he sketched beside her reply.

Her heart sped up again. Maybe she could still get her chance. It was either now or never. She decided to throw all insecurities to the wind and go for it.

“This…” she slowly signed before placing her two hands on each side of his face.

She brought him down to her level and kissed his lips. They were warm and slightly wet from him licking them moments ago. To both of their surprise he kissed her back with ease. Only Daryl was still awkward and unsure of where to put his hands. This made Connie smile into his lips and she grabbed his hands and placed them on her waist. This seemed to be the confirmation Daryl needed to fully get into it. He placed one hand on the back of her neck and deepened the kiss. Shortly after they were out of breath and had to pull away. They just stared into one another’s eyes trying to be sure that what just occurred really happened. A devious smile soon formed on Daryl’s face when he noticed how out of breath and flustered Connie was.

“Anythin’ you can do, I can do better,” he said.

#romance #adventure #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fic #daryl fanfiction #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon x connie #daryl x connie #twd fanfiction #twd daryl dixon #twd #twd connie

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miraculouswolf99 · 3 years

Text

Silver Siren

Happy New Year!!! This is not a New Years story, but it is a story that I am using New Years as an excuse to post it. LOL

*****

Luka Couffaine was often described as the most relaxed and chill guy that anyone could ever meet. Often seen with his guitar on hand, playing what he would call a person's heart song. He was also described as a protective older brother to his sister, Juleka. Especially when it came to her friends.

The only ones that Luka really knew were Rose, Ivan, and Mylene as they were the ones that came over the most often. This was the first time that the entire class was on the Liberty. And if Luka was being honest with himself, he was most intrigued by Marinette, Lyon, and Adrien.

While he had not met Adrien personally yet, the things he had heard from the class made him curious about the model. Marinette also seemed really sweet and the type of person that could brighten a room just by walking into it. And Lyon seemed similar to himself, calm and easily just as observant.

Lyon and his sister had seemed almost like him and Juleka. They liked to be off to the side and observe. They also spoke of animals and plants like they spoke of music, that it relates to everything and everyone. Luka was amazed by their heart songs. So full of life, harmony, and with a slight sense of mysteriousness.

But most of Luka's cool, calm, and collected personality was thrown out the window when his mother got akumatized into Captain Hardrock.

"A treasure in return for freedom," Anarka says. "Ho, ho, ho then I shall be your pirate Hawkmoth."

Black and purple smoke covers the ship.

"Oh no," Luka hears Marinette gasp.

Captain Hardrock rose up. Captain Hardrock has long red hair that is spiked upwards and golden eyes. The upper half of her face is covered with a black mark edged with dark red and she wears a black bandana with a white spiky-haired skull on the front, along with gold circular earrings.

She wears a bodysuit that is red from the collar to the chest and black from the chest, the color separation looking like flames. Her suit includes three yellow buttons vertically on her lower body, three golden spikes horizontally over each knee, and a golden patch above each hip. She has two black belts, one going around the body diagonally and the other wrapped around the waist, that have golden buckles. Over her suit, she wears a black captain jacket with golden inner lining, golden spikes on the shoulders, golden edges, and golden buckles on the sides. Black fingerless gloves with golden edges around the upper holes cover her arms up to her elbows. Her knee-high boots that end below the knees are black and red in a flame-like pattern with black soles, golden heels, black inner lining, and black stripes with golden spikes above the ankles.

"Raise the mainsail, me deck hands let's get swashbuckling around here," his akumatized mom orders.

"Mom," Juleka asks, shocked and scared.

"What's going on," Luka asked, concerned.

"Your mom has weighed anchor, me lad," the akuma says. "I'm Captain Hardrock and today Paris's timbers are about to be shivered by my cannons."

The captain looks through a telescope. Luka took that second to make a quick headcount. He realized that the Greek twins were not on board the Liberty anymore. Remembering that the two were close to the gangplank when all this started, he figured that they had most likely had gone and went to get help.

"Westward ho, Liberty next stop," she orders. "Jagged Stone at the Eiffel Tower. Soon, there will only be one concert in Paris only one Music Festival. We will destroy all the others. Now, get to your instruments and rock those decibels!"

"Mom please, you can't ruin the Music Festival," Luka calmly pleaded.

"You can't force people to listen to your music," Marinette tells the villain.

"No way we're playing like this," Ivan yells.

"Mutiny," Captain Hardrock sounded offended. "On my ship! Liberty, seize these scallywags and throw them down into the hold!"

Chains shot out from different places on the ship. But before any of the teens could react, arrows started flying over their heads and hit the chains. Every chain that an arrow hit instantly froze into ice. Then the next thing that they knew, another weapon flew past them and shattered all the ice chains.

Floating near the ship, above the water, was Beautifly with her shield-sized razor blade flower. And looking over, back on land, was White Wolf. His bow was still at the ready. Luka was amazed that the two got there so quickly and figured that it was because of Lyon and Vallia. He had seen the two newest heroes of Paris on the news and the Ladyblog, but this was the first time in person.

"If I was Cat Noir, I would probably make a very bad ice pun right about now," Wolf smirked. "But I'll stick to freezing things with my arrows."

"And I am happy you are," Beautifly giggles. "I mean, Cat is a great hero and all, but I am very close to slapping him over those cat puns."

"Creatures of the land and air are not welcome on my ship," Captain Hardrock shouts, pointing her sword at the butterfly girl.

"Do I look like I'm on your ship," Beautifly floated around. "If you haven't noticed, I'm not even touching the ground let alone your ship."

"Lock this fly in the brig, Liberty," Captain Hardrock ordered.

Chains, once again, shot out from different parts of the ship. They headed right for the butterfly hero. But unlike Ladybug, Cat Noir, and even her own partner White Wolf, Beautifly is able to fly. But that is obvious at this point. It did give her an advantage over most akumas. The way that she was currently flying around to avoid the chains was one very good example of these advantages.

"I'm a butterfly, thank you very much," Beautifly put her hands on her hips.

She made a quick dive back toward the water, flying barely a foot above it. The chains would hit the water instead as she gracefully dodged them. But she soon made a quick shot upwards as she got close to where her partner had been standing. That allowed him to fire a volley of arrows at the chains following her. Each one of them was soon frozen into ice. She quickly shattered them with her razor flower.

"Nice try, Jackie Sparrow," Wolf smirked.

Beautifly facepalmed. "What you lack in puns, you sure make up for in pop culture references."

"What can I say," Wolf shrugged. "I love American movies."

The kids still onboard the Liberty, meanwhile, seemed to finally get out of shock over the heroes showing up so quickly.

"We need to get off this ship," Alya quickly says.

"How," Ivan asked. "Do you want us to jump into the seine?"

"Would you rather be chained up on this ship," Alya countered.

"All ashore that's going to shore," Ivan headed right for the edge of the boat.

"Never thought I'd have to walk the plank of my own house," Juleka says, surprisingly still as calm as she was during the Horrificator incident.

"Why is everyone in the Couffaine family so shockingly calm," Marinette whispered to Alya.

"Your guess is as good as mine, girl," Alya whispered back. "But they can't all be that calm. Captain Crazy, over there, is one example."

"I am suddenly very grateful for my normal mother," Marinette says. "Yet, I am also intrigued by everyday life in the Couffaine household."

"I hope my crew isn't planning on jumping ship," they were caught in the act by the akuma.

"Shoot," Nino swore.

With a slash of her sword in the air, Captain Hardrock sent another round of chains toward them. Only this time, White Wolf was not fast enough with his bow. He tried, but people need to remember that nobody's perfect. The group of teenagers was soon all grabbed by the chains and pulled below deck.

"Oh, Hades," Beautifly swore. "Now we're going to need a rescue mission. Where are that cat and bug?"

"Don't ask me," Wolf said, freezing another chain.

Meanwhile, Adrien had been in his room. He was watching the news broadcast about the music festival. His father had not allowed him to go to the Liberty and play the keyboard for Kitty Section. He was pretty salty about that. (AN: An ocean pun inspired by Captain Hardrock. hehe.)

"Breaking News," Nadja Chamack interrupted the fun stuff.

"Huh," Adrien knew what this most likely meant.

"Another akuma attack is in progress along the seine," Nadja reported. "This akuma's goal seems to be to take over the music festival with its rock music by taking out all the other musical acts in the city."

"Some people just don't appreciate good music when they hear it," Plagg says, munching on some of his cheese.

"Plagg, claws out," Adrien did not have time for his sarcasm since he knew his friends were at the same river.

His friends may not currently be in much danger, but they were being held prisoner.

While the room wasn't really a brig, but the teens were still trapped in it. Ivan and Mylene were chained together, as were Nino and Alya. Rose and Juleka were both alone in their chains while Luka and Marinette were also chained together.

"You don't seem very worried, Marinette," Luka noticed.

"I am, but this isn't really my first time being held captive by an akuma," Marinette says. "Even if the Evillustrator considered that situation a date."

"Alright," Luka accepted that.

"Alya, remind to apologize to Nathaniel later for bringing that up," Marinette said.

"Girl, I am pretty sure that he wouldn't mind," Alya says. "Nath is almost as forgiving as you. And that says something considering that you could forgive anyone for anything."

"Not anything," Marinette protested. "If anyone insults my parent's bakery, I'll open up a can of butt-kick of fighting techniques that my mother taught me."

The way that she said that so sweetly was enough to send shivers down most of their spines.

Marinette then looked down. She saw Tikki waving at her, having come out of her purse to silently aid her. The kwami phased into the lock on her and Luka's chain, taking a little bit before the lock opened with a quiet SNAP.

"Wow, how'd you do that," Luka asked her.

"Uhh, I, Uhm..." Marinette had to think fast. "With this."

She holds up a guitar pick.

"You're amazing," Luka praised her. "A real magician, Marinette."

"You think so," Marinette asks, going all nervous like how she does around Adrien. "Oh, it was nothing, uh, amazing, really?"

"Excuse me, but some of us are still chained up here you know," Alya says, rolling her eyes.

Before either of the freed teens could do anything, they heard Captain Hardrock walk downstairs and laughing.

"Marinette, she's coming," Nino warned them.

"We'll come back, I promise," Marinette says as she and Luka leave the room quickly.

The two ended up locking themselves in Luka's own bedroom. They had to work quickly as Captain Hardrock soon broke in.

"Run, Marinette quick," Luka yelled out the window.

"Seize him," Captain Hardrock some more chains to catch her son.

It all happened faster than Luka could blink. Chains shot through the open door in order to trap him again. But at the same time, a trio of arrows flew through the open window/porthole and froze all of the incoming chains.

Luka turned around and saw that White Wolf was hanging from an icy-looking rope outside the window.

"My outfit is bright white, how do people miss me," he joked.

"Uh..." Luka had no idea how to respond to that.

"Whatever," Wolf shrugged. "Move that fine-looking butt, handsome, you're getting off this Black Pearl wannabe."

Luka blushed, even if he hid it very well. He didn't have much time to really try and think of anything as his mother was currently breaking through the frozen chains on her way to capture him again.

Taking White Wolf's hand, he was just barely able to get through the porthole.

"Time to leave," Beautifly tells them, seen fighting more chains with the newly arrived Cat Noir.

Luka had to immediately tighten his grip around White Wolf's waist as the icy hero fired another ice rope arrow. The two swung away on the rope, landing on the shore of the seine.

"My sister and friends are still in there," Luka immediately tells him.

"I know," Wolf says. "We will try to get as many of them off of the boat as possible. But we might need to also rely on Ladybug's Miraculous Cure if we can not."

"I understand," Luka said.

"Stay safe, Mr.Couffaine," Wolf tells him, running back into the battle.

Luka couldn't help but get lost as he caught a glimpse of the hero's beautiful eyes.

"Flirt later, Wolf," Beautifly calls.

"Yeah, that's my job," Cat Noir jokes. "OW!"

Beautifly had hit him on the back of the head.

"Sorry, I'm late," Ladybug apologizes, swinging into the fray.

"All heroes are allowed to be late every once in a while," Beautifly stated, blocking a chain with her razor flower. "May I remind you of Cat Noir's late arrival to the fight with Riposte."

"He also told me you were quite late during an akuma attack by someone called the Evilistrator," Wolf said. "That name, by the way, is horrid."

Captain Hardrock, unfortunately, then made her reappearance on deck. She was already angry over her son escaping the Liberty and seeing the four heroes together did not help her mood. She raised her sword.

"Capture those pests, Liberty," she ordered.

The heroes started flipping, jumping, and flying in Beautifly's case to avoid the flying chains. White Wolf aimed another of his arrows at the chain, but Captain Hardrock was having it this time.

"Liberty, fire," she ordered her ship.

One of the cannons aimed at the icy teen. But instead of a cannonball coming out, the cannon fired a soundwave of rock music. It was almost like the soundwave effect that Black Canary causes with her canary cry. It washed over the Greek hero.

White Wolf covered his wolf ears on the top of his head, yelling in pain. The sound was loud and horrible, actually causing pain with his enhanced wolf hearing. When Captain Hardrock sent more of her chains his way, Ladybug quickly threw her yo-yo around his waist and pulled him away from them and the sound blast.

"Leave it to me to face an akuma with sound powers when I have enhanced hearing," he shook his head like he had swimmer's ear.

"Just be happy that you and Beautifly weren't here when we were fighting Guitar Villain," Ladybug said.

"There was seriously a villain with that as a name," Wolf raised an eyebrow. "Does Hawkmoth have no creativity at all?"

"That remains to be seen," Cat Noir comments. "His villain names range from weird, to good, to not very original at all."

"Jagged Stone ahead, Liberty fire," Captain Hardrock ordered.

The ship fired its sound cannons again, only this time entire speakers were shot out. The speakers landed and attached themselves all around Jagged Stone's music area at the Itfil Tower. The music was so loud that it caused cracks to spider all around where the speakers landed.

"Where's a pair of earplugs when you need them," Beautifly remarked.

"Are you the one with sensitive ears, I don't think so," Wolf commented. "My ears are still ringing from that earlier blast."

"What do you think her akumatized object is," Beautifly asked.

"It has to be something on the ship, otherwise she wouldn't be able to control it the way she does," Ladybug theorizes.

"I could Cataclysm the entire ship," Cat Noir offered, raising the hand that he uses to destroy things.

"No," Ladybug instantly shut that idea down.

"There are hostages on the ship, Cat," Wolf informs the hero. "If you sink the ship, they might drown."

"Myself and White Wolf only managed to get one of them off the ship before you two showed up," Beautifly says. "The rest of them are still trapped somewhere on there."

"I think he is Anarka Couffaine's son Luka," Wolf said. "He might know why was hit by the akuma. I'll ask him."

"Fire at XY," Captain Hardrock commanded, the Liberty shooting more of its speakers at the Justin Beiber wannabe.

"Well, do it fast," Ladybug told him, then swung away toward the ship.

"She knows that we're not her sidekicks and she doesn't have to order us around like that, right," Wolf crossed his arms.

"We can tell her off later, let's go, Cat," Beautifly ordered, flying toward the ship.

"We are around some seriously bossy ladies," Cat Noir commented, before using his staff to get to the ship himself.

"I am surrounded by weirdos," Wolf shook his head.

He took his bow in hand, notching another arrow. He aimed it to freeze one of the cannons closed when the akuma saw what he was doing.

"Fire," she ordered.

Another sound blast came right at him. He covered his wolf ears as the sound really hurt with his magical hearing. His bow and arrow fell to the ground. He could hardly tell when another person ran up and picked up his bow. Said person aimed it at the cannon, fighting the headache that the sound was causing. The arrow froze the shooting cannon, stopping the sound.

"I never liked rock music before, and I am most certainly not going to start now," Wolf says, getting up.

"Are you okay," asked the person that fired the arrow.

White Wolf looked and saw that it was Luka that had picked up his bow.

"I'm good now, Mr.Couffaine," Wolf says. "Thanks for the assistance."

"You can call me Luka, White Wolf," Luka tells him.

"Alright, then, Luka," nobody can say that superheroes aren't great actors. "It was very brave of you to use my bow. Very telling as well."

"Telling," Luka was confused.

"Most civilians would be afraid of turning to ice by touching one of my arrows," Wolf explains. "It shows that in maybe another life, you would have made an excellent fit for the wolf miraculous."

"Wow," Luka was still as cool as they come.

"Anyway, did you see what object the akuma landed on," Wolf asked the blue and black-haired boy. "Destroying it is the only way for Ladybug to de-evilize your mom."

"I didn't see exactly, but it is most likely her compass," Luka says. "She has always said that a compass is a sailor's most prized possession."

As someone that grew up near the water, White Wolf actually understood that. He wondered how much easier Odysseus would have gotten home if he had just used a map and compass instead of the stars and a lot of faith. As much as he believed in the gods, common sense is also a thing to believe in.

White Wolf noticed the ice on the cannon starting to crack. He quickly scooped Luka into his arms and ran away just in time as the ice shattered and the sound blast started up again. The two barely got away in time. The sound waves just missed them. White Wolf put Luka down a little way more away from the akumatized ship.

"Stay here, Luka," Wolf directed.

"I have to help," Luka tells the hero. "White Wolf, there has to be a way for me to help."

White Wolf looked at the blue-haired teen. He had shown great bravery when he picked up his bow. Not many people, let alone teenagers, would do such a thing. An image of a silver box flashed into his head, giving him an idea.

"Wait right here, Luka," Wolf instructed. "If any of the others ask, tell them that I went to get help. Beautifly will understand what I mean."

Luka nodded as White Wolf got out his bow again. Using an icy rope, the Greek hero swung away from the Seine. He had no idea what the wolf hero was up to.

The holder of the wolf miraculous landed in an alley on the other side of the street from a beautiful jungle-like flower/garden shop. He de-transformed and out of the alley walked Lyon Garden. The dubbed Ice Prince made his way to the flower shop, greeting his father on the way in. He quickly made his way up to his room, which from what his sister, Vallia, had told him was almost like Marinette's bedroom but made for him instead of her.

Lyon went over to the bookshelf he keeps in his room. He pulled back the one book on the shelf that did not have a title on the spine. In a bit of a cliche turn of events, the bookshelf slid tp the side to reveal a hidden compartment. From the compartment, he pulled out a secure but elegant silver box. It was in the shape of a large jewelry box with bright blue markings that looked like a cross between ice and vines. Silver roses also were dotted around the box.

Lyon opened the box lid, revealing several other pieces of jewelry inside of it. On a raised area of the box was a place for hour pieces of jewelry. The ones marked for the wolf and butterfly miraculous were empty. But there was a bluebird necklace in the space for the miraculous of the songbird and a stag brooch in the place for the stag miraculous. The other miraculouses at the top of the box were around the raised area. A deer head pendant for the deer miraculous, a black snake armband for the python miraculous, a black panther pendant for the panther miraculous, a brown bear cuff bracelet for the grizzly bear miraculous, a feather hair clip for the falcon miraculous, and a white bird hair comb for the dove miraculous.

"I know the perfect choice for this akuma," Lyon talks to himself.

He picked up a necklace before quickly sealing the box back in its hiding place and leaving.

Back at the battle with Captain Hardrock, the remaining trio was having a bit of trouble with fighting off the chains as well as trying to search for her akumatized object.

"I have never seen Pirates of the Caribbean, and this is not making me want to," Cat Noir comments, jumping out of the way of more chains.

"There is a reason why pirates have never been very recorded in Greek history," Beautifly says. "Because there weren't any."

"Seriously," Ladybug raised her eyebrow at that.

"I'm pretty sure," Beautifly shrugs. "I'm a butterfly hero, you really think I know much about pirates at all?"

"I agree with her, only replace butterfly with black cat for me," Cat Noir says. "Cats and water do not mix, in any form."

There was a reason why being surrounded by frost and ice weakened him so much when Lady Wifi locked him in that freezer. Cats and water have never mixed.

"Heads up," Beautifly warned, darting around in the sky to avoid the chains coming her way.

"Fire at Nightingale," Captain Hardrock commanded.

The Liberty shot out more speakers at the energetic pop star.

"Beautifly, where is White Wolf," Ladybug practically demanded.

"I don't know, but I do have a pretty good idea," Beautifly tells her.

"He just abandoned us in the middle of a fight," Ladybug snapped, using her yo-yo to fight off chains.

"Need I remind you that we are not your sidekicks," Beautifly snapped back, blocking chains with her razor flower. "We don't have to inform you of everything we do. I trust that White Wolf has a plan. I do not immediately go for such negative thoughts."

"If he has a plan, he should have told us," Ladybug did not back down. "Maybe he would have if he didn't stop with those ridiculous pop culture references every other sentence."

"Not all heroes have to be stern and serious to be good heroes, Bug," Beautifly did not take any crap if someone insults her brother. "Have you ever seen videos of the Flash? He never seems all that serious, but succeeds every time in his fights."

"I've seen news of his battles, and Beautifly does have a point," Cat Noir said.

But before the other female hero could try to find a comeback, one of the chains managed to hook itself to Cat Noir's left wrist.

"Oh crud," Beautifly swore.

Cat Noir was pulled up to the crow's nest and his hands were pulled to either side of him as he was chained down by his wrists.

"Cataclysm," Cat Noir shouted.

His right hand bubbled with black energy, signaling his power of destruction. With a twist of his hand, he was able to free himself from the chain holding him to the crow's nest.

"Great, because you had to act all high and mighty with trying to boss us all around, Cat Noir now only had five minutes," Beautifly snaps at the red and black hero.

"He should have been paying more attention to what was going on around him," Ladybug countered. "He was probably too busy trying to think up another joke or another lame pick-up line to focus on the fight."

"Or maybe you distracted him by treating us all like sidekicks," Beautifly did not back down.

"These two fight more than most would think me and White Wolf would," Cat Noir thinks. "The whole cats and dogs hate each other stereotype and all that."

That was when the icy hero finally made it back to the fight. He landed not too far from where Luka was trying to keep up with the ship.

"Are those two seriously at it again," he asked the teen in blue.

"It is quite ironic," Luka says. "But their music has no way to harmonize. It is too different and can barely even be in the same song."

"It's funny that you mention harmonizing," Wolf smirked.

"Pardon," Luka faced the hero.

White Wolf pulled out a small silver box from under his cloak. It was like a mini version of the Miracle Box in his room, only square-shaped.

"Luka Couffaine, this is the miraculous of the songbird, symbolized by the gift of heart," Wolf held the box out to him. "You will use it for good in this time of need. After the battle is finished, I shall return to retrieve it should you choose to accept it."

"I...I do," Luka was actually showing shock. "I accept the miraculous, White Wolf."

Luka opened the box, and a ball of light came out. It soon turned into a kwami, but this one was a cute bluebird one.

"Geia, young holder," the kwami greeted. "My name if Meloetta and I am your kwami."

"My kwami," Luka was confused.

"Kwami's are what give me and the other heroes our powers," Wolf explained. "They are also generally good friends and guides of sorts for us."

"Wow," Luka says.

He took the necklace out of the box, putting it around his neck. The color blended quite well into his natural style choice as well as the fact that he was a musician wearing a songbird around his neck. Part of him wanted to ask the wolf hero if that was part of why he had chosen this particular miraculous for him. But he shrugged it off as a coincidence.

"All you have to say is 'Meloetta, let's rock,' and you will transform," the kwami explained. "To de-transform, you say 'concert's over.' Your special power is activated by saying 'Harmonize."

Luka nodded at the kwami.

"You ready to be a hero," Wolf asked.

"I'd do anything for my friends and family," Luka says. "Meloetta, let's rock."

"At least my weapon isn't a children's toy," Beautifly shot at Ladybug.

"Yours is nothing more than an oversized daisy," Ladybug countered.

The two of them were back-to-back fighting off the chains while constantly trading insults back and forth. It also seemed that because of the two's constant fighting with each other, Captain Hardrock had basically forgotten about Cat Noir altogether. He was just watching from the crow's nest and also scanning the ship with his eyes to see where the akumatized object could be.

White Wolf soon landed next to him.

"And Ladybug calls the two of us annoying," he raised his eyebrow at the cat hero.

"I don't even pretend to know anything about girls," Cat Noir put his hands up in defeat.

"Good, because I know a few girls back home that would skin you alive if you tried to ever say that you were a girl expert," Wolf chuckled.

"Even with that little bit of information now permanently etched into my brain, I still would want to visit Greece someday," Cat Noir snickers.

"Not like we'd ever deny the help against the myth spirits," Wolf commented.

"So, was Beautifly right when she guessed that you were getting help," Cat Noir asked.

"When is she ever wrong," Wolf smirked.

Another flying hero then came out of nowhere, even if White Wolf did know where he came from. Moving so fast that he was basically a blur, he used his weapon to slice his way through all the chains until there were none left.

"What in the world," Ladybug was shocked.

"I should have known that Wolf was going to chose that miraculous," Beautifly grinned.

"What," Ladybug gasped.

The new hero finally stopped, and everyone was able to get a good look at him. He was in a silver jean vest with matching jeans. He was now also had a turquoise t-shirt with darker silver boots. On his hands were turquoise fingerless gloves. His hair was the same black with blue streaks. And to the shock of Ladybug and Cat Noir, he also had angel-like bird wings that were also silver. The bluebird necklace was still around his neck, matching the bird's eye-like mask over his eyes.

In his hand was an ax-like weapon that also resembled a hybrid of a guitar and a lyre.

"Hope I am not late to the party," the new hero comments.

"You're right on time," Wolf smirks.

"Who are you," Ladybug did not like another miraculous being out and about, as when she recruited Alya to be Rena Rouge was risky enough.

"You can call me... Silver Siren," the newly named hero smiled softly.

"Finally, another hero with wings," Beautifly giggles. "I was getting lonely up in the air all by myself."

"Happy to be of assistance to you, Beautifly," Silver Siren smiles at her.

"Guys, we may need to speed this up," Cat Noir shows his ring as it blinked to show he had three minutes left.

"Gottcha," Beautifly gives him a thumbs up.

"Luka said that the akuma is most likely in the compass," Wolf says.

"Once you freeze it, Beautifly and I can destroy it," Cat Noir said.

For once, Ladybug had to play catch-up as the other four heroes went back to battle Captian Hardrock. The akuma did not look happy that another hero had joined the fight.

"Another pest in the sky," she snarled. "Get them, Liberty."

Chains shot at the team from all angles.

"Nature's Heart," Beautifly called upon her power, throwing her flower up.

The gem on her razor flower released a blossom that came down with the weapon.

"Amaryllis," Wolf immediately figured out. "I always thought that was a beautiful flower."

"I know exactly what this flower does," Beautifly said.

Holding up the flower, it released a number of petal missiles. Each petal exploded on contact with the chains, destroying them. The move almost looked like a combo of the draco meteor and pin missile moves from Pokemon.

"My chains too easy for you," Captain Hardrock yelled. "Then I think it is time for you land-loving pests to face the music."

"Land-loving," Cat Noir raised an eyebrow. "She does know that two of us don't even touch the ground, right?"

"Akumas, big on destruction and not so much on logic," Beautifly says.

The ship rumbled as its sound cannons aimed at the five of them. White Wolf, in particular, did not want to have to hear that loud music again.

"Hit it, Silver Siren," he called out to the new hero.

"I'm on it," he responded. "Harmonize."

He strung his guitar ax, blue energy flowing from the strings to his throat. His eyes glowed as he started to open his mouth.

"Cover your ears," Wolf warned everyone.

Just as the heroes covered their ears, Silver Siren let out a loud scream as the akumatized ship sent out its own sonic blasts. Silver Sirens scream came out as powerful sonic waves similar to the Black Canary's canary cry. Only his seemed slightly more powerful and the sound waves were a bright blue color.

The two sound attacks met in the air, a loud BOOM resulting from the collision. It blew their hair and loose pieces of clothing back a little at the wind blast that also resulted from the collision.

White Wolf and Beautifly uncovered their ears as both sides died down their attacks. They had to move quickly.

"Winter's Touch," Wolf quickly called.

His hands started to pour out an icy mist with a slight blueish color to it. The wolf hero then jumped to where he was sure that the compass was on the ship.

"Stay away from my compass," Captain Hardrock yelled.

But with one touch, the piece of equipment was frozen into ice. With a quick jump back, he let Beautifly throw her razor flower at the compass. The weapon smashed right through the frozen compass as easily as it would be to shatter glass.

"Gotta love this thing," Beautifly smiles at her weapon.

A black butterfly soon flapped its way out of the rubble. That was when Ladybug stepped forward.

"No more evil-doing for you, little akuma," she said, opening her yo-yo. "Time to de-evilize."

She caught the corrupted insect.

"Bye, bye, little butterfly," Ladybug released the now white insect.

"That thing is definitely a moth," Beautifly comments.

Cat Noir snickered at the comment while White Wolf simply rolls his eyes playfully. Silver Siren smiled but Ladybug looked annoyed.

"She does seem like the perfect person to know a butterfly from a moth," Cat Noir joined in Beautifly's fun.

"You two give me headaches," Wolf said.

"You know you love us," Cat Noir winks in a flirty way.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Wolf waved him off, making him and Beautifly snicker. "You did great out there, Silver Siren."

"You think so," the new hero asks. "I was a bit worried about using my power against those cannons."

"If I didn't think you could help, I wouldn't have given you the miraculous," Wolf smiles at him.

All of the heroes but Ladybug all started to beep as their miraculouses flashed. Cat Noir had a minute left as his ring lost another piece of the paw. One of the wings on Beautifly's bracelet went black. A feather on Silver Siren's bird necklace went from blue to white. One of the wolf's teeth on White Wolf's medallion went black.

"You can handle the clean-up, Bug," Beautifly says. "We all have to go. Secret identities and all that jazz."

"No one likes smooth jazz, Fly," Wolf said, but then all of them separated.

#ml salt #marinette salt #original character #original heroes #original miraculous #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fandom

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supersizemeplz · 4 years

Text

Bearer of Gifts

Winston Duke x Black PlusSized Reader

Another #supersizedfic short. For @muse-of-mbaku and all my Winston fans. Dare I say, Smut? (That’s the warning, lol). I kind of just went with the flow for this one. Hope you enjoy. Ain’t he fine? 🤤

The faint sounds of cars found their way to your apartment from the street below. Whether honking or softly thumping with bass. The television gave off soft mumbling aside from the droning sounds that came along with you scrolling through your social media timeline. Two soft pings sounded before the message banner slid down into view.

You up, sweetness?

The brightness of your phone lit up your face. Showing off the smile you gave at the sight of the name that accompanied the message. You could almost hear the hushed cadence of his voice saying the words to you.

He'd brought the name out of no where weeks before during a cuddling session. The deep and husky rasp of his seductive whispering soothing you as his fingers danced along your skin. Those thick digits of his pressing into your thigh gently, moving up to grope your soft backside. His soft lips brushing against your earlobe as he smiled. He mumbled the nickname into your ear, chuckling when he seen your cheeks rise from a grin.

"My sweetness.." You mumbled the words he had spoken to you, in memory. Smiling like a fool in the dark, you began your reply. The clicking of the keyboard overpowered the television for a moment.

Yeah. Watching movies, knowing damn well need to be sleep.

You can't sleep either?

The familiar sending tone told you that the message had delivered. Three dots popped up immediately, doing their dance as you awaited his answer. Then they were gone. You raised an eyebrow, giving the screen a few moments before you went back to social media. Waiting for him would only make the time drag by so.

Suddenly two pings surprised you, followed by another identical duo. Attachments? You tapped the banner, using the shortcut to the message thread. "Good googly moogly." With a quick tap, you took a closer look at the photo. The hum that left your throat was unintentional, an unconscious reaction to the sight before you.

Can you tell that I'm fighting it?

Hearting the photos was obvious like a second nature. You admired the photos for a second more, moaning softly with delight at his sex appeal. Your fingers went back to tapping the screen for your response as you crossed your ankles, squeezing your thighs lightly.

Did you just take these thirst traps for me, sir? 👀

Me? Thirst trapping? Noooo..

The sarcasm was dripping from the text, and you just knew he was smirking. Handsome devil. You laughed, opting to FaceTime him instead of texting back. The phone trilled twice before he answered, smiling that charming smile of his. He rubbed a hand over his hair.

"So that's what took you so long to text back, I see.." You grinned, holding your phone out to show your whole face. "You want to tease me."He looked at you with low eyes, taking you in with a satisfied hum.

"You know I wouldn't tease your pretty ass like that, sweetness." He spoke with amusement. His voice was deeper than usual, probably from sleep trying to win him over. "Not unless I plan on gifting you something to ease your troubles."

You caught his hinting as he licked his lips. A chill ran down your spine and you tingled at the memory of his last teasing session. With a raise of your arched brow, you shifted in the sheets to get more comfortable. "Ease my troubles, huh? You know, I really do like gifts."

He smiled at the your slight change in tone, getting up from the bed to do something. His background showed different parts of his bedroom as he moved around. "I know you do.. Maybe I can come over and give you a few tonight?" The camera was on him again once he'd propped his phone on his dresser. Exposing his bare upper body before it disappeared beneath a shirt. "..if you'd let me?"

"I think that can be arranged.." You smiled as he picked up the phone again. "You and your thirst traps owe me an apology." He barked out a laugh at that before you'd hung up. Standing from your bed, you danced your way to the bathroom to freshen up.

15 minutes.

It took him that long to make it to you. Thanks to it being midnight and the traffic being close to non-existent. An extra five minutes was dedicated to getting from his car, to your door, and following the satisfying sway of your silk covered backside as it led the way down the hall to your room.

The soft scent of the candle you'd lit half an hour ago caught his nose. He grinned as it gave a different mood to the bedroom. You stood in front of the bed, opening your robe and dropping it to reveal your pajama set. Silk like the robe and fitted to your body. "And I'm the one teasing?" He spoke up, watching you with clouded lust that only amplified once you'd opened the door.

You didn't answer, only smirking as you took a seat to watch him. Watching him undress was a favorite of yours. He had taken a liking to your watchful eye as well, taking his time to tease you further. Knowing that you were ready to pounce on him, he'd be waiting for the day that you finally did so.

He pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it aside onto the chair that sat at your desk. You didn't say a word as he awaited an answer as he adjusted his sweats. They sat dangerously low on his hips, giving your imagination a few scenarios to work with. His smooth skin had a shine to it, most likely from the Shea butter he'd use after every shower. Those massive arms of his flexed with his movements, along with his chest. You were damn near drooling.

He chuckled at your silence, enjoying the fact that you were admiring him. He'd done the same to you countless times. "Focus, sweetness." You looked up at him, lips parted as you tried your best to not melt beneath him. The faint scent of his cologne was doing more for you than he knew. "Can I ease your troubles?" His teasing voice lowered to a mumble.

Your lips held his attention for a moment before he caught your eyes once again. Lifting a hand to his jaw, your fingertips gently ran over his beard. Nails massaging at his chin once you heard the soft hum he exhaled. "Please.." You whispered the confirmation, making him smile.

His lips caught yours with several pecks and a hungry kiss. Both his hands pressed into the mattress on either sides of you as he focused on the taste of your soft lips. "I swear you have the sweetest lips.." He mumbled the statement, brushing his nose against your jaw as he took in your scent.

His chain hung from his neck, brushing against your chest as he peppered his loving kisses along your skin. You sucked in a breath once he'd worked his way to your breasts, working them from beneath the cool fabric that once housed them. A freed hand worked at the waistband of your shorts, inching them down until they hit the floor with a soft thump.

Like a reflex, your knees pulled closer to your stomach to open you to him. He'd grinned at the simple action once he'd placed his last love mark of the moment between your breasts. You moaned at the warm touches of him, feeling the soft touches he placed at the back of your thighs. To fuse with the slow kisses and gentle bites.

"Win.." The softness of your voice still caught his ear, making him look to you. Your upper body had propped itself onto your elbows with a want to view the care it was receiving. He groaned at your lustful eyes, feeling the effects of his own excitement stiffening in his sweats. "Shit.." Your curse slipped past your lips as a low pant once he began his experienced touches.

His fingertips were glossed in your natural lubricant, shining in the light of subtle blue LED that lined the room. An arm wrapped around your thigh loosely as a safety net when he really began his magic. Your soft moans motivated his moves, helping the flow that he chose in each passing moment. "No ma'am. Eyes on me, sweetness." He called to you, speaking in that low tone he knew you liked. Though it came easily.

You gasped at the dancing of his tongue, lifting your hips from the sheets as his lips met your center. "Oh my gahh.." Looking away from him, your eyes were shut softly but your brows were pushed together. He hummed, smacking your thigh as you ignored his recent demand.

His lips gave you rest for a moment as he chuckled, giving a gentle tug of your thighs to pull her closer. "Let me see those pretty eyes of yours.." He sweet talked you, pressing wet kisses to your thighs. "Yeah, sweetness?"

You moaned, nodding before you looked at him with eyes full of want. "Yess.." He twitched at the sexual desire in them. Soft sound of your puddle got louder the sloppier he became. It'd be a lie if he'd said his beard wasn't glistening with you.

"That's more like it, baby.." He praised, resting his mouth to tease with the subtle strokes of his fingers. You mumbled his name in a daze as he watched you began to unfold. "You sound so good saying my name. Say it louder for me.."

And his mouth joined the fun once again. You cursed out, throwing your head back and breaking eye contact. He didn't bother to try and regain eye contact because he knew it'd be useless. Your soul was being slurped from your body and he had the privilege to be the culprit doing so.

Once your hands found his hair, you couldn't choose whether to push him away or closer. So you let him decide, to which he chose to continue the sweet torture. He was, for sure, your favorite bearer of gifts.

___________

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@sisterwifeudaku @kumkaniudaku @wawakanda-btch @theunsweetenedtruth @marvelmaree @chaneajoyyy @wakanda-inspired @princesskillmonger @liviy00 @xsweetdellzx @killmongerdispussy @thehomierobbstark @princessstevens @killmongerthiskoochie @cecereads209 @beautifullmelodyxx @soufcakmistress @melodyofmbaku

#black reader #winston duke #winston duke fanfiction #oneshot #black panther #fic rec #supersizedfic

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eeriefeelingsat3amuwu · 4 years

Text

Oc’s

Nina Heath

Skin tone: dark

Eye color: blue

Hair: curly, dark brown with a blue ombre

Height: 158cm

Weight: 90kg

Age: 23

Gender: nonbinary

Sexuality: bisexual

Details: vitiligo on their left shoulder/right hip/stomach/back/over the left eye, eyebrow piercing, nose ring, lip ring, ears pierced all the way up, sleeve tattoos on both arms, tattoos all over their body (thighs, ankles, torso, back, calves,...)

Personality: confident, chaotic good, gremlin, dumb but kinda smart, loyal, would kill for their friends, would kill their friends, angry, smol and chubby, disastrous bisexual, scary, yell-a-lot, bunnies!, strong, caring

Hobbies: baking, crocheting, arguing, painting nails, reading (but their head hurts), cuddling, kissing, calming their girlfriend down, Fighting with people who hurt their friends/girlfriend (is totaly the embodiment of:

Nina: You made Sophia cry!

Tray: Sophia always cries!

Sophia, crying: That’s not true...)

Hates: dysphoria, homophobes, transphobes, Karens, birds, tall people who make fun of them, their glasses (but their head hurts if they don’t wear them), contacts (but their head hurts if they don’t wear them), headaches

Job: baker

Sophia Georgening

Skin tone: caramel

Eye color: green

Hair: really messy,straight (unlike her), bob cut with a triangle undercut at the back if her head, ginger

Height: 186cm

Weight: 78kg

Age: 24

Gender: cis woman

Sexuality: lesbian

Details: freckles all over her face and shoulders, bushy eyebrows with an eyebrow cut in the left one, tongue piercing, tattoo of a Phoenix on her back between the shoulder blades, Nina and a heart tattooed on her right bicep, ripped (seriously, she’s buff, she has abs, biceps, triceps, she could crush a melon with her thighs, the CaLvEs,...), wears her hair tied up in a messy bun almost 90% of the time, vegetarian and whenever she eats a product that came from an Animal like milk or an egg, she apologizes to said animal

Personality: calm, thoughtful, lawful good, a TrEe, loving, caring, silent, secretly anxious, strict, tidy, colected, extremely smart but almost never shows it, a bottom, sensitive, crybaby

Hobbies: blacksmithing, archery (but she never shoots at living targets and cries when she needs to shoot at plastic animals), working out, running, kickboxing (even tho she apologizes to her oponent afterwards), helping people out, petting animals, kissing, cuddling

Hates: sad movies, Animal cruelty, mean people, social interactions (but she’s good at hiding it), not much else, she thinks that everyone deserves another chance and that all people have some good in them

Job: works in a flower shop, part time blacksmith/gym trainer

Tray Black

Skin tone: light

Eye color: yellow

Hair: short, bright blue

Height: 175cm

Weight: 69kg

Age: 20

Gender: genderflux (using all pronouns, mostly they/them, so they’ll be refered to as such while description is going on)

Sexuality: asexual panromantic

Details: nose ring (changes up every day), extravagant earrings, sleeve tattoo on their right arm, a snake tattooed around their left thigh, colorful/black clothing (they either look like a neon paint bomb or as a black hole), they rarely bind but pack rather often (bottom dysphoria is worse then the top one), a lot of rings and bracelets (you always know when they’re near since you hear clanking), hats, always wearing earphones

Personality: they’re really extra in every way, chill, sarcastic, funny, flegmatic, pesimistic, both love and hate attention, very competitive, potterhead but hates JK, totaly a Slytherin (and not just because of the snakes), a bit arrogant, very good leader, very very smart, good at arguments (seriously, you so don’t want to get into an argument with them, they’ll obliterate you)

Hobbies: singing, drums, gaming, playing the guitar, sketching people/sceneries, reading (mostly sci-fi/fantasy), dying hair, combining jewelry with clothes, listening to music, taking care of their pet sneks

Hates: shoping, overplayed pop songs, dogs, teeth, the summer (it’s too damn hot for them), homophobes/transphobes, J.K. Rowling, terfs, politics (the people)

Job: part time at Nina’s bakery, studying politology and sociology, in the school band

Connor Wearings

Skin tone: lightly tanned (not as pale as Tray but not as dark as Sophia)

Eye color: heterochromia - left eye is green, right eye is grey

Hair: curly, short, hazelnut brown

Height: 168cm

Weight: 64kg

Age: 21

Gender: demiboy (using he/him pronouns but not quite cis)

Sexuality: asexual, aromantic

Details: freckles. everywhere., always smiling (he’s got dimples), dressed freely (skirts, dress, pants, blouses, shirts, heels, crop tops, hoodies,...), he’s really comfortable in his body and yet he’s not fully comfortable with all that comes with it, smol bean, the cutest little pout, ALWAYS covered in paint, fingers are pernamently covered in bandaids, wears a bandana to hold his hair back while working

Personality: he’s a total sweetheart, kind, helpful, outgoing, happy-go-lucky, loving, caring, funny, always laughing/smiling, really hard to piss him off, really easy to make him upset (another embodiement of ‘he always cries), ‘Maybe I can drink my problems away’ *opens capri-sun*, dog lover, puppy-like personality, loyal

Hobbies: drawing, cooking, baking, petting animals, fluffy things!, crocheting, sewing, painting, dressing up, making tea, helping his friends, hugging, holding hands, platonic relationships

Hates: arguments, people who make fun of someone, rude people, loud music, the dark, the cold, octopuses, dark colors, unfinished jobs

Job: studying art, psychology and doing a baking course at the moment (very productive and capable), working a part-time at a convinience store and a daycare centre (the kids love him)

Abram Hayze

Skin tone: dark

Eye color: hazelnut

Hair: deep brown, curly and fluffy

Height: 197cm

Weight: 78kg

Age: 19

Gender: agender - e/em/eir/emself pronouns

Sexuality: pansexual, demiromantic

Details: e has a lot of moles all over eir body, mostly presents androgynous, yet sometimes likes to present feminine, had very unaccepting parents so whenever e is forced to go to a more profesional setting or to meet with older people, e presents masculine even though e hates it, very proud of eir hair, love to play with them when e’s nervous and try new hairstyles all the time, e never dyes it tho, piercings on both ears, piercing under the lip, piercing in the bellybutton

Personality: e is really calm, likes to think and be alone, yet also loves to spend time with eir friends, smiling a lot, always there when someone needs em, really perceptive and no one really knows how e does it, but e seems to know about a lot of stuff that other people don’t (it’s just the fact that e is very trustworthy and so a lot of people let their guard down around em), e is also really into debates, but not the political ones like Tray, eir partner, but rather ones about books, headcannons and interests, e is also really sneaky and likes to play tricks and pranks on people, especially confusing them with the food that e eats, e is chaotic good

Habbies: reading, hiding around places and letting emself be found in the most ridiculous positions, putting stuff on the top shelves when e is hanging out with eir friends (the short ones), sitting in strange places where no one knows how e got in, sleeping

Hates: homophobes/transphobes, people with no sense of humor, long waits, queues, places with a lot of people, the dark

Job: studying psychology, working part-time in a hairdressing shop

Tenzin Arish

Skin tone: slightly tanned

Eye color: purple

Hair: deep black, short (one side is totaly buzzed and the other is a bit longer) the ends are bleached and dyed (purple, blue, green, pink) depending on their mood

Height: 164cm

Weight: 58kg

Age: 22

Gender: nonbinary (xe/ xeir/ xem)

Sexuality: queer

Details: xe are really skinny and fairly androgynous, no one actually knows what xeir biological sex is and xe aren’t gonna tell anyone anytime soon, xe present androgynously, yet sometimes xe like to present masc/fem, depending on the day, xe love xeir hair and that’s why xe dye them so often, if xe don’t like the color, it can even change daily

Personality: sarcasm and irony are the two languages xe speak in, xe like coffee and practicaly live off of it, no one ever saw xem sleep, xe are always online and always awake when someone knocks on xeir door at any time (so xeir friends know that when they need a friend, xe will be awake whenever they decide to come there), xe love helping people with their mental problems yet xe never try to solve xeir own, the only other language xe speak is memes

Hobbies: taking care of stray animals, helping people out (whether it’s an old lady who needs to cross the street or a protestor who needs protection from the rubber bullets/tear gas), protesting, breaking down gender boundaries, educating people on the LGBTQ+ history, history itself, archeology, xe love caves and everything that has to do with geology

Hates: homophobes/transphobes, terfs, anyone who’s stupidly using history (especially against the LGBTQ+ comunity), plants (xe have alergies), flowers (xe think it’s overated)

Job: part-time job in a museum, studying history and geology

Okay, so I hope you enjoy...this? Please inform me if my autocorrect misgendered one of my sweethearts, I proofread it but one can never be so sure. To be clear: all of them hate transphobes/homophobes, racists, terfs, neon*zis, Tr*mp supporters and everyone else who is somehow harming people or disrespecting their rights, I just really didn’t have the willpower to write everything of this down in every Single one of the hate columns because that would mean I have to think about it and that would do me no good, because I really didn’t want to have a mental breakdown while writing about my oc’s. That’ll be all, thanks for comming to my TED talk.

Tags: @exhaustedauthor @definietlynotsatan @detroit-become-snail @nyamafriend and @ anyone who wants to read this. Bye!

#my oc’s #luv them #no misgendering!#(or at least I hope so)#i am looking 👁👁#i don’t know how to tag this #sorry

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7-wonders · 4 years

Note

Any chance you could do a professor Duncan and reader, where the reader goes to a college party and gets drunk. She calls him to pick her up and she’s just being clingy and shit?

I’ve literally been thinking about this idea on and off for MONTHS now, so I’m really glad that you sent this to me!

The blue light emanating from the phone has Duncan’s eyes fluttering open. Although he had promised himself that he wasn’t going to fall asleep, the late hour--Duncan checks the time and groans when he sees that it’s only 1 in the morning, begrudgingly conceding that you may be right when you tease him about being an old man--dragging his eyelids shut. The only reason he’s up this late is also the reason why his phone is now blowing up.

Logically, Duncan knows that he doesn’t need to stay up and make sure that your night at a college party goes well. After all, you are a pseudo-adult who is perfectly capable of making her own choices and being responsible for her own wellbeing. Still, he can’t help but feel mildly responsible for you. You’re not even in an actual relationship, although that’s more due to stubbornness than a lack of actual feelings. But, for better or for worse, you trust him, and he holds your opinion of him in high regard.

Duncan hadn’t expected you to even spare him a passing thought tonight. After all, you’re young and vibrant and fun, surrounded by others who are like you. What makes him believe that you’re going to think about the older professor who you can’t even be seen in public with? It’s unhealthy, how much Duncan cares for you, but he can’t deny how his heart stutters when he answers his phone.

“Hello?” Duncan says, the heavy bass of whatever bar or house party you’re at forcing him to hold the phone away from his ear just slightly.

“Hi!” you squeal loudly, Duncan immediately relaxing upon hearing the sound of your voice. “Oh shit, did I wake you up?”

“No, I haven't gone to bed yet.” A half-truth, but it’s one that you accept easily. “Are you having fun?”

“So much fun!” All of the different sounds of music and people talking and yelling would be a little overwhelming, but all that Duncan can hear are your drunken giggles as you try to decide what you want to say next. Despite the late hour, Duncan can’t help but smile. “Duncan?”

The background noise softens, and Duncan assumes you’ve managed to make your way outside. “Hm?”

“Oh,” you laugh, “I thought you had hung up.”

“Nope, I’m still here, princess.” He hears someone, probably one of your friends, call your name. “Why are you on the phone with me? Shouldn’t you be with your friends?”

“Mm, it’s almost last call.”

“How are you getting home?” Duncan knows that you would never drive drunk, but he doesn’t trust your friends as much as he trusts you.

“We’re getting a Lyft, but...” you trail off, attention captured by the sound of people cheering in the bar before the clearing of Duncan’s throat steers you back on track. “Oh my god I’m so sorry, I promise I’m not drunk!”

“I’m sure you’re not,” Duncan chuckles at your obvious lie. “What were you saying?”

“Umm, we’re getting a Lyft, but I really don’t want to ride with a bunch of drunk people since I, myself, am not drunk.”

“Of course.”

“Soooooo,” you drag out the word, and he knows what you’re going to ask before you ask it. You’re not nearly as clever as drunk you thinks you are. “I was wondering if you would wanna pick me up?”

“That wouldn’t be overstepping any boundaries?” Duncan had actually offered to pick you up in the first place, but you had turned him down based on the fear of somebody seeing you with him.

“Boundaries, schmoundaries! I miss you, and I wanna see you!”

He should at least attempt to act a little annoyed at the request, but Duncan’s so thrilled to be needed by you in such a domestic way that he’s immediately up and grabbing his keys. “Send me your location, okay?”

“Oh my god!” you gasp. “I love that song!”

“Not what I meant. I don’t know where to pick you up if I don’t know where you are.”

“Location incoming! See you soon, Dunc!” You hang up before Duncan can get another word in, sending him the requested location so that he can pick you up.

As expected, you’re at one of the popular college bars. Duncan hates that he knows which bars are popular with students, but it’s impossible to tune out his students excitedly chattering on Monday mornings about their weekends. He pulls into a parking spot, thanking his tinted windows for the privacy they provide. He’s about to text you when you come stumbling out of the bar, waving exaggeratedly in his direction.

Duncan’s eyes shamelessly rack up and down your figure, the high-waisted jeans you’re wearing perfectly accentuating your ass and the white crop top flashing a strip of your stomach. You open the passenger door, laughing in glee when you see that Duncan actually is here.

“Duncan!” you cheer, clambering into the car and closing the door behind you. “You came!”

“You asked me to, remember?”

Nodding, you fumble with the seatbelt before finally getting yourself buckled into the car. Duncan stifles a laugh at the way you stare at everything your gaze falls on, as if you’re seeing it for the first time. As Duncan begins to drive, he notices that you’re inching your outstretched palm closer to him. It’s an obvious plea for him to hold your hand, but he’s interested to see how drunk you handles the lack of attention.

As it turns out, you don’t handle inattention very well when you’re drunk. You keep glancing over at him as you hope to get his attention until your hand is nearly on his lap. Finally you’ve had enough, and you huff loudly.

“Dunc, hold my hand!” you groan, jutting your bottom lip out in a pout.

“Oh, I’m sorry princess, you didn’t ask!” You’re a little too inebriated to detect his sarcasm, continuing to frown at him until he places his large hand in yours. “I’m assuming you enjoyed yourself, then?”

“Yes!” You kiss Duncan’s cheek before laying your head on his shoulder. “We played a couple of rounds of pool, which I’m shockingly good at when I’ve had a couple of drinks.”

Duncan pretends to be shocked. “I thought you said you weren’t drunk!”

“I may have fibbed just a little bit.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

When Duncan parks in the parking garage of his apartment, it takes a moment for you to realize that you’re not at your apartment. “Why are we here?”

“I’m not going to leave you alone when you’re drunk, (Y/N).”

“I’d be fine,” you huff, getting out of the car.

“I know that, but it makes me feel better to know you’re not going to get into any drunken accidents.”

Duncan comes around to the other side of the car to make sure that you haven’t fallen over, smiling at you when you hold your arms out to him. He places his hands on your hips, pulling you to him and letting you kiss him.

“Can we go inside now?” Duncan asks, watching as you disentangle yourself from his arms to slip out of your heeled shoes.

“Will you carry me?” A hopeful smile spreads on your face and Duncan sighs, knowing that it’s already over for him.

“Your legs aren’t suddenly broken, are they?”

“But my feet hurt!”

Duncan attempts to shake his head, but the way you grin at him melts any resistance he may have had. “Fine.”

“Yay!” You hop on Duncan’s back, wrapping your arms around him as you snuggle into him.

“You smell nice,” you note as the elevator takes you up to Duncan’s floor.

“Thank you, you smell like tequila.”

“Somebody spilled tequila on me when we were dancing,” you mutter into Duncan’s ear, peppering his skin in kisses between the words.

“You’re awfully clingy when you’re drunk.” Then, you say the words that make his heart stop.

“It’s because I love you!” you croon, somehow sensing when Duncan freezes even though the complexities of a seatbelt stumped you less than 20 minutes ago. “Uh oh, was I not supposed to say that?”

“Um…” Thankfully, Duncan needs to focus on unlocking his door, giving him time to formulate a response as you continue to cling to his back like a koala. “It’s not that you weren’t supposed to say it, it’s just that you’ve never said it before. Plus, we’re not actually dating.”

“Well that’s stupid!” You let go of Duncan when you reach his bed, falling back onto the mattress and giggling. “Sober me is a pussy.”

Duncan coughs to hide his surprised laugh. “(Y/N), don’t say that!”

“What? It’s true.”

When you start to lay back against the pillows, Duncan grabs your ankle and pulls you down the bed. “Nope, you’re not falling asleep smelling like a bar.” He grabs a shirt that you had left at his place on accident (and that he certainly hadn’t washed and kept in a dresser) and tosses it to you. “Go take a shower.”

“Ugh, do I have to?”

“If you don’t want to sleep on the floor, then yes.” He’s exaggerating. He knows it, you know it, even the dog barking outside knows it. Still, you’ve found it’s impossible to say “no” to Duncan, so you grab the shirt from him and stand from the bed.

“Not worried I’m going to drown in the shower?” you tease.

“Yell if you start to drown,” Duncan deadpans, smiling as he finds you once again hugging him.

“Sorry if I made you uncomfortable by saying I love you,” you mutter against his chest.

“You didn’t. Besides, I know you’re drunk, and you won’t mean it in the morning.”

You shake your head. “I will. I think...I’ve loved you for a little bit now, but I just haven’t realized it.” Kissing him, you let go of him and head towards the bathroom. “I love you, Duncan.”

The door closes before you can hear Duncan quietly say “I love you, too.”

#professor duncan #Duncan Shepherd #duncan shepherd imagines #duncan shepherd imagine #duncan shepherd x reader #Older!Duncan #hoc #hoc imagine #house of cards #house of cards imagine

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echoes-of-the-clockwork · 3 years

Text

Book Three: Pestilence (Ignis x Reader) Chapter Ten

"Don't stray too far, lest you get left behind," Ardyn started as they headed for the ruins. "And surely you'd rather avoid unnecessary scuffles, seeing as you're now a trio. Well, with the exception of your new acquaintance." He stopped for a brief second, looking back at the four. "Oh, dear. Touchy subject?"

(Y/n) only smiled in response. Underneath the surface, she felt a tinge of anger when he doubted she could handle herself in battle. She decided not to spark an argument and continued to smile.

"One we won't discuss with you," Ignis responded.

"Then let's discuss why you're here. Hmm....It can't be archaeology...Mythril, perhaps?"

"This guy's reading our thoughts!" Prompto gasped.

Ardyn smirked, continuing to lead them through the swamp. "Mythril-it's a precious resource. We can't just let anyone get their hands on it."

"But you'll help us get ours on it, right?" Noctis questioned with a raised brow.

"I never said that."

"Of course you didn't," the freckled boy groaned.

The chancellor chuckled. "Where is the fun in that? I thought you'd rather dig it up yourselves."

Arriving at the ruins, the group spotted a familiar figure standing at the entrance with two imperial officers beside her. Ardyn spun around to face the boys and Horseman, causing them to stop in the ankle-deep waters of the swamp. "Fear not-I'll be but a moment."

He walks away from them, giving (Y/n) the chance to breathe. "My, my. What a character."

"He's a creep with the way he was touching you earlier," Prompto stated. "I mean, smelling your hair? That's really creepy."

"Mm, yes. I must admit-it sent a chill down my spine," Pestilence confesses with a small grimace.

"You really know how to hide your emotions," Noctis comments.

"Only when it concerns others."

"Ooh. Does that mean you've hidden some from us?" Prompto asked.

"That's for me to know and you to find out," she snickered in response.

Ardyn suddenly calls out to them, silencing the group. "All clear! Go ahead." He walks a few feet back toward the four, allowing them to proceed forth.

Noctis took the lead and approached the woman they fought only a week ago at Fort Vaullerey. She crossed her arms and tilted her head to the side. "So, you're the "new recruits" they sent over for "special training." Nice cover, runaway prince. At least you brought snowflake with you."

"Thanks," Prompto cheerfully replies.

The prince groaned in disbelief at his best friend not recognizing the sarcasm in the woman's tone. "Oh, c'mon!"

Aranea shook her head with a sigh, waving her hand in the air. "At ease, "recruits." There's nothing in it for this ex-mercenary to turn you in. Especially not with her around." The last part clearly being directed toward (Y/n). She directed her gaze to the ivory-haired girl with a slight smirk. "I know you were holding back during our first fight. Wouldn't want to see you in complete action unless you were fighting alongside me, snowflake."

The Horseman smiled. "I'm afraid my full potential is rather...unbefitting for human eyes. It is quite unsightly."

"Oh, yeah. Heard from some strange group of highwaymen that you've killed more than twenty of their men in just mere seconds. Gotta say, snowflake, you definitely don't look like a killer with that innocent face."

(Y/n) was somewhat relieved to know Aranea hadn't overheard from Silas' men of her status as one of the Four Horsemen. "Yes, well, Silas and his men are a cowardice bunch who wish to eradicate Eos of the weak by using a force no human could control even if the Astrals blessed it upon them themselves."

"Hmm..." Aranea hummed. "I'll keep that in mind when my men and I come across them again. We'll teach them a lesson or two."

"Please, do," Pestilence chuckled. "They deserve whatever punishment that comes their way."

The ex-mercenary grinned. "Will do, snowflake. Now, let's get this show on the road."

Prompto's eyes narrowed in bewilderment. ""Show"?"

"Forgot about your "training"? Well, I'm being paid to escort you...Just watch yourselves in there."

Ardyn overheard them and called out. "I trust you'll be civil. Commodore Aranea Highwind, I leave them to you."

Ignoring the chancellor, Aranea grabbed her helmet and pulled it snuggly over her head. "Search until sundown. It won't do you any good. If you're lookin' to get inside, you're gonna have to wait."

"(Y/n)," Ignis called out to the girl, remembering the trick she used on the entrance to Costlemark Tower.

"It seems you and I are on the same page, Ignis," she smirked at him. Walking past Aranea, she headed to the sealed entrance of the ruins. The boys and a confused ex-mercenary followed her through the murky water and up the ancient stone staircase.

The Horseman placed her hands against the frigid stone and casted a shadow spell to activate the mechanism sealing their only entrance into the ruins.

Aranea watched in amazement and merriment. "Well, well, well. Snowflake's got even more tricks up her sleeves. Nice work."

"Now we won't have to waste precious time to wait for sundown," (Y/n) exclaimed.

The five enter the ruins, Prompto eyeing the architecture around them. "What kind of place was this? Any idea, Ignis?"

"None," the jaded-eyed man responded.

"Maybe (Y/n) knows," Noctis said.

All eyes fell upon Pestilence, wondering if she could give them a little information on who once lived in such a structure since they knew she was an archaeologist in her previous life. She ran her hand across the stone wall, admiring the intricate carving method and design. "Along with the structure, all hints of who once lived here has been washed away with time. Though, I have seen such a design before on the outskirts of the Duscae region. Maybe the two are connected."

Aranea placed a hand on her hip. "Don't tell me you're a scholar, too."

"Not exactly," (Y/n) grinned. "I...am following in my father's footsteps of becoming an archaeologist." She worded her sentence carefully. She didn't want to drop hints about her true status because she had yet to find a reason to trust the ex-mercenary. There was melancholy behind her words, but it wasn't enough for the woman to detect.

"You're not just some dainty little flower these guys lug around just for looks, huh? You can kick ass anytime and are pretty knowledgeable. You're one hell of a package, snowflake."

The Horseman simply smiled as they delved deeper into the ruins. They maneuvered through countless of hallways and conjunctions leading in different directions. (Y/n) nibbles on her bottom lips when she saw a look of suspicion come across Aranea's face. "Where the hell are all the daemons? This place should be crawling with them."

Prompto briefly glanced at (Y/n), swallowing nervously. Noctis, being slightly calmer than his best friend, cleared his throat. "Maybe they're sleeping."

"You would say something like that," the blonde whispered to the prince.

When Pestilence tried to brew up a better explanation, a chill crept up her spine. She recognized the familiar presence as her eyes darted to the hallway to their left. Ignis and Aranea were the first ones to notice her strange behavior.

"(Y/n)," Ignis called out to the girl only a few feet away from him. "Is everything alright?" He heard a faint inhale of air from her slightly ajar lips before she stormed down the hallway.

"Wha-(Y/n)!" Prompto shouted as she ran away from the group.

Without hesitation, the group rushed after her. They turned various corners racing after the Horseman, but when they made another turn, she was no longer in sight. "What way do you think she went?" Noctis looked down the two pathways presented to them.

Ignis placed a hand over the pocket containing the summoning orb, but he decided against using it with Aranea currently tagging along. As he was pondering what to do next, he received a faint whiff of mock oranges. Immediately, he knew it was (Y/n)'s scent. "She's nearby," he said.

"How do you know?" Aranea questioned.

"This scent-it's hers."

The ex-mercenary sniffed the air, smelling the mock oranges. Before she could comment, everything began shaking. The group braces themselves as pebbles and a few large pieces of stone rain down around them. "An earthquake?! I thought we were done with those!" Prompto shouted over the loud rumbling.

"This isn't a natural phenomena," Ignis stated, dodging a pile of falling stones from the ceiling above.

"Since when are you an expert on earthquakes, Specs?" Noctis retorts.

"The rhythm is inharmonious."

"You think a daemon is causing the tremor?" Aranea asked.

"Or whatever creature resides in these ruins," he added.

"Guess we're in for a surprise," the woman snickered. "Better find snowflake before whatever's causing this place to shake finds her first."

<-------<<<<<<<<

An hour passed by without anyone knowing. They had yet to find (Y/n), having lost her scent half an hour ago. With her presence no longer in the vicinity, they were attacked by several daemons. Fortunately, the boys were able to play off why the enemies were now just appearing to keep Aranea from prying.

While walking down a long stairwell, Prompto grumbled as they descended deeper into the ruins and seeing no end to the stairwell they were traveling down. "Man, how far does this go?"

"Yet a ways still," Ignis sighs.

"And we still haven't found (Y/n)," Noctis said.

"I'm sure she's fine. She can handle herself," Aranea stated. "So, which one of you is the lucky guy?"

"What do you mean?" Prompto answered her question with one of his own.

"There's no way in hell a girl like that would be traveling with you unless she's close to one of you. So, who's the boyfriend?"

"B-Boyfriend?" The gunslinger stuttered.

"Out of the three of you, I'm guessing it's you." Aranea points to Ignis, who became flabbergasted at the accusation.

Before the advisor could deny such words, Noctis interrupted him. "Uh, yeah. They've been dating a while."

Ignis' face scrunched up at the prince's words. "Yes, well..."

"Oh, definitely!" Prompto chanted with a smirk. "Iggy can't keep his hands off her. He always talkin' about her, too!"

"Prompto," Ignis scolded the younger boy.

"What?" The sharpshooter feigned shock, ignoring what consequences he would suffer from later. "I'm only telling the truth!"

Ignis held his tongue, pinching the bridge of his nose with a sigh. Aranea chuckled and grinned at him. "Didn't take you for a clingy type of guy. I'm a little shocked."

"As am I," he mumbled to himself while adjusting his glasses.

"We better find your princess before she winds up impaled by daemons or by whatever thing is making this place shake," Aranea said, patting the strategist on the shoulder.

They continued through the ruins, more daemons spawning and blocking their path. They checked around every corner and dead end for (Y/n) but still couldn't find her.

Prompto huffed, slumping his shoulders forward as they checked another room off their list, Noctis tugged at a few of his raven locks with a sigh, Ignis rolled his shoulders from the pent-upped stress of the missing girl, and Aranea simply smirked at them. She folded her arms over her chest, watching their vexation caused by their absent companion. She thought about making a comment but decided to keep from teasing them.

Further into the ruins, the group makes their way into a large central chamber. They all gasped in amazement at the beautiful architecture. "Beautiful beyond words..." Ignis gazed all around them.

"That is pretty neat," Aranea said.

Prompto wandered over to the railing and leaned over it, staring upward. "Look up!"

"Whoa-If that's the water's surface..." The ex-mercenary's voice trailed off.

"Wait, what? Does this mean we're underwater?" He spotted a various amount of fish swimming in the water above. "Whoa. There's even fish."

"The hell is this place?" Noctis muttered.

"Can we truly be submerged?" Ignis asked.

"It does seem harder to breathe," the blonde said.

"Like seeing a dream," the prince stated.

"Gladio is seriously missing out."

"Probably not his thing."

"Now, now, you can never tell," the tactician exclaimed.

Prompto, taking the opportunity of the serenity, took out his camera and snapped pictures of the central chamber. As he scanned the area with his camera for the next perfect shot, his eyes narrowed when he spotted someone standing on the railing of a bridge below. He adjusted the lens and zoomed in to get a better look. When he recognized the person, he gasped and lowered his camera. He leaned over the railing, nearly losing his balance in the process. "Hey, (Y/n)!" Everyone's attention was grabbed and they rushed over the railing to peer down at the girl.

Pestilence heard Prompto's shouting and immediately looked up. She smiled and waved at him and the others, relieving them of their stress. But, it was short-lived.

Another tremor shook the entirety of the ruins. Among the rumbling, a strange and eerie hiss resonated throughout the large chamber. "W-What was that?" Prompto stuttered in a fearful tone.

"No daemon we've encountered has made such a ruckus," Ignis responded. The group held onto the railing, bracing their bodies as rubble fell all around them. The bespectacled man's eyes landed on (Y/n), seeing as she hopped off the railing to prevent from falling. She gripped the stone tightly, avoiding a few large pieces of stone that threatened to smash her skull in.

His emerald eyes widen in horror when he saw the bridge beginning to crumble. The cracks webbed around her feet, which didn't go unnoticed by the girl. She knew the fall would injure her severely, but the wounds would heal within seconds. What she feared the most was the extreme pain she'd experience. She also couldn't focus on teleporting to safety because she couldn't properly clear her mind. Slowly, she backed away, but the cracks followed with her every step.

"Noct!" Ignis shouted just as the bridge collapsed underneath (Y/n)'s feet. Luckily, she was able to grab on a part of the bridge that wasn't crumbling at the last second to cease her plummet.

"On it!" The prince conjured his engine blade and threw it to the bridge below. The sword embedded into the sturdy portion of the bridge and he felt the familiar tug on his body as he warped. His fingers wrapped around the hilt as his feet landed on the bridge. He dispelled his blade and immediately lunged forward to grab the Horseman's hand before she slipped. "You're a handful, (Y/n)," Noctis grunted, trying to pull her up to safety. The tremor had yet to cease and made it impossible to hoist her up onto solid ground.

Pestilence was speechless as she looked up at the ravenette. She couldn't believe he's risking his life for her. "Noctis, it's too dangerous!"

"Tell that to Specs!" He retorts just as the advisor made his way down to the bridge.

Ignis arrived and tried to help (Y/n), but she refused to give him her other hand. "You two need to head to safety! Leave me!"

"We won't stand for such stubbornness," Ignis sternly proclaimed. "Give me your other hand, (Y/n)."

She stared up into his eyes and saw the resolve in them. She knew this was not the place nor the time to be stubborn. Lifting her other arm, she reached up and Ignis grabbed it. As they began pulling her upward, the magnitude of the tremor increased. From where she hung, the Horseman saw the remainder of the bridge was collapsing. Before she could even warn them, it disappeared from underneath them.

Plummeting downward, Noctis was able to warp back to Prompto and Aranea. His body hung from his blade, eyes wide with fear, as he watched (Y/n) and Ignis fall.

#ffxv x reader #ffxv #final fantasy xv x reader #final fantasy xv #ignis x reader #ignis scientia #Noctis Lucis Caelum #prompto argentum #gladiolus amicitia

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theunholygrails · 4 years

Text

Very Differently

Summary: This isn’t really new, just something I never got around to posting here. Basically my take on Budapest with an OC added to the mix for fun.

Masterlist

Zdravstvuyte

The shadows cast from the wastefully clad guests in the soft angles and indecipherable masses were notably more elegant than the calculating frowns of their creators. A gloved hand traced along a freshly polished curling oak banister as Sonja made her was to join the babbling benefactors. Leaflets of conversations rustled not long enough to take root but simply flew past on the careful air of disinterest her fellow hosts held about them. With a sharp nod of her head and a demure curve of her lips, she joined the nearest transaction.

Arms dealing can be tricky business when neither party particularly trusted the other.

Jewels painted the necklines of her most generous buyer and in their pristine surfaces, she could make out the warning flash of the smallest red dot. Sonja shifted with a subtle flip of her hair to block the shot and simultaneously tapped her earpiece.

“Ma’am, I do believe my husband is coming down with something fatal.” she said.

Even if she did not have a husband to speak of, the message was abundantly clear—the event was compromised because Black Widow herself was present.

“Take care of it, Chief. I need this night to be spotless.”

“Got it.”

Security hustled onto the floor at Sonja’s signal to escort each of the dozen or so guests back to their armored vehicles.

With the prompting of her boss in her ear, Sonja slipped out the back door to attempt to uncover any tracks the Widow might have left behind.

The wet asphalt did little to help her heels find traction as she scanned the nearest buildings for the optimal vantage point the spy must have taken to train a snipper on people under her protection. With the rest of her security team busy locking down the premises, she was left to the goose chase even though looking for tracks from this particular prey was about as promising as searching for footprints after a storm.

She tensed when something popped right beside her ear and the sharp slap of metal hit her cheek. She scolded her hammering heart and forced a calm gaze to the arrow that kissed her skin and was now imbedded in the wall. Her hand went to the dual blades tucked against her thighs knowing full well that any assassin after her would not be foolish enough to miss twice.

A test of her ear piece told her its signal had been knocked out somehow. A heavy pair of boots splashed down beside her and she whipped into a defensive pose before the archer could cut her mission short.

The man kneeling across from her had his bow pressed to the ground and his black stealth suit clinging to him like any woman in her proper mind would in a scenario a little less lethal than this. Given a situation where she were allowed to use her real name and wash the blonde dye from her hair, she might have done just that because his looks were wasted on the dark, filthy streets of Samara, Russia.

“Hello, easy, Chief. I’m not here for you. Sonic took out your communications, also I was listening in a little bit, Ma’am is a weird name. Is that like the birth one or did she rename herself that? I’m looking for the Widow. You know anything?”

“Does anyone?” she flicked her blades so they would glint in warning beneath the lazy stars.

“They sent one person out to challenge her? Seems a little under kill. Unless you’re just the bait.”

She advanced a step to show just how much of a danger she truly was. His mouth curved up in amusement when he rose from his crouch. “You’re not going to let me leave,” he said.

“I fear my boss will want to speak with anyone chasing her.”

“Knew better,” he sighed. “Alright, let’s do this before I have to check out of my hotel.”

Her first swipe cut only into nothing as he swiveled around to her back. She feigned left, sweeping her right foot back to catch his ankles.

“Woah, who taught you that?” he demanded, dancing over the attack.

While she paused to process his stunned remark his completely unstunned body cracked his bow against her forehead. She grabbed at his forearm, twisting until it clattered free of his grip. “Quiet, American.”

“Was it Hill?” he carried on. “You with S.H.I.E.L.D?”

Now she faltered and he did not take the opportunity to jam any of his color coordinated arrows into her temple.

“I wasn’t told of another operative here,” he babbled.

She slammed her shoulder into his chest and landed him flat on his ass where she could properly threaten him.

“I’m handling it.”

“This is about as under control as a mouse wrestling a snake.”

“You realize I’m pinning you right,” she demanded, dropping her knees to either side of his hips and pressing the flats of her blades against either of his wrists.

“That means nothing. I’m letting you. Just so you know, they asked me to do your job first. Also, the first and last fight I had with the Widow ended with my jaw dislocated. That was back when I cornered her in Milan. That makes me a mouse too.”

“Sadly, I think that just makes more dinner for the snake instead of an overwhelming force.”

He shrugged his eyebrows and glanced down pointedly. With a sigh she crawled to sit beside him as he grunted and rolled onto his stomach. Hands propped under his head as princess worthy blue eyes fluttered up at her. “Feel better? I think you missed bruising one of my ribs if you wanted a clean sweep.”

“I was going to ask why Fury didn’t tell me you were coming, but pretending you don’t exist does seem to be the only way to deal with your bullshit.”

“Supposed to be super top fucking secret but since you kind of outed me, not cool by the way, want to work together to charm a snake?”

“Is she a spider or a snake, man? Make up your damn mind.”

He rocked back, clutching his knees as a laugh barreled through him. “Oh, I like you. You don’t get a say now. We’re working together. Got something more stealthy than that yellow dress?”

***

She did not give one rat’s ass how he got into her apartment only that he could have possibly blown her cover.

“Brought flowers. Told the doorman I wanted to surprise you.”

“Was the surprise that I had a boyfriend?” she deadpanned as she shrugged off her bulky overcoat.

“Fiancé, when he asks but that’s not why I’m here. I need your help bringing her in. She vanished, shook all my tracking abilities. From what I hear, you’re pretty handy with the underworld system.”

“If you hear anything then I’m doing my job wrong. Why would you want her brought in anyway? Isn’t protocol to take out someone that rouge and dangerous?”

He gave his knees a firm pat before pushing off them to match their heights. “I think she could prove an asset. I made this call. If it goes south, it’s on me. I know I’m asking you to compromise yourself but from what I can tell, the Widow is more involved in mafia’s inner working than the little crew you head. We find her, we get you your hot target too.”

“Ma’am is a pretty cold-hearted bitch from ghost chatter I’ve picked up.”

A tug of his grey hoodie secured it around his face for a safety net just in case anyone was spying in from the dirt smeared window to their right. Sonja was afforded no such luxury because her face was always bared to the world. She was buried way too deep in her world of shit to risk disguises. “Funny. We should work well together.”

“What’s your clearance?” She demanded.

The space of her apartment was deemed worthy of her retailer to host grand parties of up to a dozen people but she already felt stuffy with his confident presence entirely too close to her though he remained clear across the green wallpapered room with his feet twisting into her recently purchased, hand woven rug. It was probably worth three times his ratty boots with its intricate depiction of a fanfare of angels descending the heavens; this man was no angel.

“Alpha.”

“That doesn’t exist. Ten is the highest. I would know, I was the reason they created it.”

A tilt of his head told her he was only amused with her declaration and not in awe like all other inferiors she came across. “Welcome to Alpha then. I’ll fill you in on the plane.”

“I thought you didn’t know where she was.”

“I said she shook me. That doesn’t mean I don’t know her well enough to predict where she would go. Pack light, Budapest can be unforgiving this time of year.”

“Got a name?”

“Got a code, Hawkeye. Yours?”

“Zero.”

***

Being nearly run over three time while crossing a single street was a personal record for Sonja. Hawkeye was weighed down beneath a tan backpack filled with waters, old and clunky laptops, maps, granola bars (as if she could live off of those along), and a very distinct lack of weapons. Hawkeye had insisted on leaving them behind because airport security did not make exceptions for undercover agents and using a private jet would raise too many eyebrows. He had extracted her daggers from her and then held his hand out expectantly for the spares he could not have known she kept tucked neatly between her planner and wallet in her purse. She felt slightly less naked when he tossed his bow as well but still would rather not relying on their combined wit and charm since her partner appeared to be painfully lacking in both and making up for it with 100 proof sarcasm.

The wind buckled with the weight of the dry air it carried and tugged at the ends of Sonja’s hastily dyed and chopped off brunette locks. A sunhat kept the loose waves mashed against her face and even bigger sunglasses kept the prying sun at bay along with Hawkeye’s dancing glances back to make sure she was keeping up with his soundless steps.

“Come on,” he called even though the only closer she could have been to him would be to just piggyback it.

“Where is the safe house again?” she called over the roar of traffic.

He pause while a couple bustled between them, their heads bent in deep conversation then nodded politely to a minister though she doubted his devilish grin could even point out a church. “Next block. You wanna take over bag duty? I’ve got this crick in my neck I haven’t been able to shake since the plane.”

“That’s because you were stupid enough to sleep on the plane. On my shoulder no less. There’s a drool stain.”

The bag was tossed at her chest where her hands caught it without the aid of her gaze leaving his. “If your posture was more slumped we wouldn’t have this problem.”

“Excuse me for remaining vigilant.”

“Trust me, your people don’t know you’re missing yet. You’ve probably got until noon.” His eyes skipped between his blank wrist and the sun overhead to judge the time. “And once we get set up with internet, I will clear the airways of anything we might have left behind. Say, do you think you could give me some sort of reaction? The constant dead expression is a bit intimidating.”

“I can see why the Widow dislocated your jaw, you talk too much.”

She spotted the covert insignia for S.H.I.E.L.D. and pushed past him to key in the day’s number sequence for entrance. There was distinct absence of air conditioning when they entered the stale room sitting on the basement level of what appeared to be the back of a tourist ice cream shop. Hawkeye’s bulky jacket hit the floor then his paisley shirt was tossed over the back of a chair that used to be sand colored but appeared to have been recently stained with globs of red. His back hit the ground as he fiddled with the window unit and Sonja set to toeing along the perimeter of their quarters.

She came across the outlet first sitting adjacent to the Ethernet cable in the far right corner. After depositing the backpack for him to fiddle with later on, she peeled off her overcoat and tank top while she stuck her head into the bathroom to check on the water situation. What trickled from the sink was lukewarm at coldest and the pressure in the shower was laughable but at least the toilet flushed and air freshener hung from the doorknob. Its orange tree shape was swinging in the next moment as blessed air filled the cramped space.

Sonja emerged from the bathroom with her sports bra held away from her damp skin. “Guess you are useful.”

“Do me a favor and check the freezer.” He toed off his boots as he walked, adding more of his shit to the mess that made her fingers twitch to clean only slightly.

“Think they left us frozen dinners? Because you’re health nut bars are not going to cut it Hawk.”

“I’ll order pizza for us,” he called with a wink as he tapped away on the booting up monster of a laptop.

She grumbled her response and pried open the rusted closed freezer doors that concealed an inside that somehow felt hotter than the oven of a city. Two metal cases rested inside, one smaller and snugly sitting atop

“You know how to defuse bombs right?” she called, eyes tracing the otherwise empty white cubicle for any wire or trigger.

“That’s a no. They’re presents from Fury.”

She did not move to take his word for it but instead carefully shifted the boxes sideways while sliding her hand where they sat in case it was weight sensitive. When she felt only the sleek, flat bottom, she cautiously picked up the bottom box from either edge with just the tips of her fingers and walked it as far away from Hawkeye as she could manage.

“For Christ’s sake, Z. I special requested those. Look, the code is 1971 on the bigger one and all zeroes on the other because I’m brilliant. If those don’t work then you can pull out your bomb squad suit.” He strode over, task forgotten, and squatted beside her kneeling form. “I’m not sure whether I’m offended you don’t trust me or flattered you’re trying to keep my out of harm's way.”

She flinched when he keyed in the numbers and passed her the first case carelessly before punching in his own and flipping the lid up to reveal and brand-spanking-new carbon fiber and purple streaked bow.

“Stealthy.” Sonja pulled out her own sleek new dagger set. Four blades so sharp just the skimming of her fingers drew their first blood. “Gorgeous.”

“I’m going to assume both of those were for me. Look, since I slept earlier, you take this round and I’ll wake you when night says it's time to move.”

When she made no move to do as such, he groaned and jutted out his hand. “Clint,” he said.

“What,” she snapped.

“That’s my name. Clint Barton. 1971 is the year I was born.”

“Is this supposed to make me trust you?”

“What? You want my social security number? Passport? Birth certificate? To be honest, I have so many of those I probably couldn’t pinpoint the original for you.”

She glanced down to hide the smiled curving up her lips and tucked a single dagger into her calf high sock. After refolding the hem of her khaki shorts, she felt composed enough to meet his impatient blue eyes. His smile was quick and brilliant and caught her so off guard she returned it, still vulnerable from the previous moments.

“There she is. Listen miss bomb technician, that why they call you zero? Because of the countdown? Anyway, if you don’t sleep you risk both our asses tonight and I happen to have a fine ass. As a gentleman I have not checked yours out but I am willing to bet that it’s at least half as good as mine.”

“If I go to sleep will you shut up?”

He touched his scarred knuckles against her cheek and lugged his new toys over to the ancient ones where he set up shop for the next few hours. The flimsy mattress with springs poking out every few inches was tucked away between the window and the front door and Sonja barely got her coat down on it before her head crashed against her arm for her pillow and her eyes tapped out.

***

do svidaniya

Clint’s version of a gentle awakening was a kick to her foot as he passed by. Of course, her leg swept out in defense and he landed face first on the mattress beside her. Her groggy eyes blinked open at him and promptly scowled at the dumbfounded expressions holding even his usual smart ass comment at bay.

“We better be under attack,” she grumbled, failing when she attempted to remove her already asleep arm from beneath his heavy torso.

It took him an alarming number of seconds to compose an answer and she squinted through sleep crust to glare at him. His lips parted then apparently he discovered them too dry to speak because his tongue swept out and at this proximity, so close she would not even have to reach to strangle him, the smell of his lingering bubblegum toothpaste pulled her fully into reality.

The same abrupt force that stilled him froze her from shoving him off the bed. She blamed the dreams still singing to her but the more likely cause was his hand which had by the damnation of some god landed on the dip of her waist, not her ass or her breast, which would be far simpler to explain the skip in her chest.

His recovery was like watching a runner recover from a particularly nasty hurdle “Afraid your mafia is running a little behind schedule, so we have to go out and meet them. Gear up.”

He grunted when her knee sent him rolling to the floor next.

“What time is it, Hawk?”

“2100. Think you bruised my bladder.”

Her change of clothes were swept up and the bathroom door slammed between them and the meager form of water she coaxed from the sink drowned out the breath she heaved from her lungs. The woman staring back at her was faded and spotted where the mirror was tarnished from the years without maintenance.

There was scarcely enough time to worry about saving her own skin let alone playing guess that hormone with an archer she met two days ago. A quick coaching session of her emotions and the addition of a black beanie, matching under armor shirt, and a lightweight bullet proof vest she emerged, undoing the button to her shorts after regretfully noticing the absence of the last bit of her uniform.

Clint lounged in front of the air unit in identical gear, hands folded across his pulled in knees so that the muscles fought against the fabric of his shirt. “Didn’t know pants were optional,” he called as she neatly folded her shorts beside their supply bag and produced the cargo pants that would be hiding her weapons for the evening. “I did appreciate that silky number you wore for me on our first mission,” he continued.

A belt secured the bottoms and after shoving her feet into the boots she stomped one down dangerously close to his most vulnerable bits and offered a sweet smile down at him.

“Think the world has one too many eunuchs as it is. Next time you want me to tie your laces try a nice ‘Clinton, would you be a dear and tie my fucking shoes?’”

“Don’t I feel like Cinderella?”

Deft fingers made quick work of her laces and she was still admiring the knots she could not even begin worrying about how to undo when he stood and shouldered his bow.

“Let’s go catch a spider, Z.”

“Let’s take down the Samarian crew as well while we’re at it.”

The night was their friend, lending its heaviest cloud cover from the stars that dared shine from the moonless sky as they jogged through the still bustling city’s alleys.

They passed a meat truck making a last minute delivery and Clint offered the driver the nod of his head before prodding Sonja’s body to pick up the speed as if they were out for a jog instead of on the tracks of the most dangerous woman on any side of the world. She shifted out of his reach, none too content on having her mind replay its earlier clash with emotions for the rest of the mission.

The building where Clint’s found surveillance footage last picked up her image was tucked between the river and the last wall of structures. A fishing shack where Sonja doubted the lights from the horn riddled bridge now stretching over their heads could penetrate if a paid professional like herself were taking shelter there.

Rounding the last bend on the downward slanting street, Clint caught her belt loop and pulled her against the crumbling brick building that smelled like moss and moldy bread. She bent her knees to keep from slipping down the slope on the loose cobblestones beneath their feet and still managed to subtly maneuver further from him because his aftershave was making repeating the plan like a mantra in her head a thing for the birds.

“Hey, you with me, Zero? You remember what we talked about?”

“Not dying or the not fucking up part?”

“See, I knew you weren’t listening to me.”

“Relax, Hawk. I’ve been doing this since I was toddling.”

“Really? Diapers for me.”

She swatted his arm when his blue eyes danced with humor and closed her own to reel herself back in.

“Seriously, though, you up for this? Because I can go in alone…”

“Like, hell, Hawk. You’re long range, I distract. Stick to it.”

He held out his knuckles wrapped in fingerless gloves that would help his aim. With a laugh disguised as a groan, she knocked hers against his and watched as he began scaling the fire escape to the tops of the connected houses leading to the perfect vantage point.

It took the coaxing of the restless waves to remind her that she too did not have the fortune of sitting still and allowing her already spiraling life to make Budapest its final resting place.

The traps took precious time to pick out--a motion detector from the front porch, a snoring dog with paws running in the air when she slipped around to the side, an electrical ward along the single sealed window, and finally a good old fashioned set of cans on the roof she managed to climb on. Sonja crouched on the narrow ledge of the none-too-secure roofing tiles, still off balance from her misjudged landing.

The cans, a mix of unopened green peas for which Sonja could not blame her and chili whose lids appeared to have been ripped off by bare hands, were stacks to at least twice her height and made a perfect circle around what she had to assume was another vulnerable entrance. From her original distance of spotting from the bridge with Clint, it had appeared merely another level of the shack which she could scale but now was proving to be just a pain in her ass. She circled on feet quieter than death to the side where Clint could see her and held out her hands helplessly.

“No in?” He said over the ear piece.

A shake of her head was the answer she knew his strapped on night goggles could pick up.

“Alright, hold on.”

“Clint!” she hissed out as an idea struck.

“Hell of a time to break out the Christian name.”

“Knock out the electricity on window.”

“I know you remember how these sonic arrows work. Our communication will be cut off and I know you’ll miss this sweet watchful voice, Z.”

“Sonja,” she whispered, hunching down on her knees and throwing a finger down as if he did not know the window she intended.

“No, sonic.”

“That’s my name you moron. You’ve got to trust me. Just shoot it.”

There was that hesitation from him again, she was beginning to understand how his head worked. The job was simple, something he was trained beyond reason for, but she was a variable he had to carefully calculate into the equation.

“Alright. I’m right behind you.”

“I know. Just don’t miss.”

She heard the smile in his response, “I find your lack of faith disturbing.”

“Are we really resorting to quoting Star Wars right now?”

“Fire in the hole, Sonja.”

The arrow struck home with a muted thwack and Sonja slid down onto the windowsill throwing a thumbs up into the now unresponsive night as she jimmied her dagger around to unlock the window. A second blade joined her free hand when she ducked inside.

The first thing she noticed was the complete lack of interior decoration just like their own safe house and the second unfortunately was that the insides were also void of any inhabitants. Why so much security without anything to protect?

There was a knock at the front door and a moment later Sonja remembered the power surge would also have affected the motion detector. She wearily trudged over before sliding into a defensive position when she flung the door back.

She saw the Black Widow first and her arrogant smirk followed by the prompting of an arrow to her skull.

“Plan B then?” Sonja called as Clint jostled their target into the room.

“I thought we agreed this was the more likely alternative,” he said. “Making it plan A.”

Sonja shrugged and pulled the handcuffs from her calf pocket before moving to snap them securely around the Widow’s ankles. The woman grunted as a green glow filled the room and a shift of her hips proved her unable of even lifting her feet.

When Sonja straightened and reached to tuck a stray strand of hair back into her braid, the woman finally spoke. “Props.” she said.

“Thanks, we’ve been practicing that last bit for hours now. I was really worried about the execution.” Clint strolled around to the front of their captive, pockets bulging with confiscated weapons.

“Not you, Barton. I knew you were on my ass for months. Her I wasn’t even looking for.”

Sonja crossed her arms. “Case. Point. What’s your real name?”

“Natasha Romanov.”

The plain reply jarred both her and her partner equally and Clint took her arm, walking her as far back into the room as he could manage before inclining his forehead to make the whisper easier hear. “She’s going to try to play a game with us. Anyone around her is instantly compromised. I need you to stay with me.”

A sharp nod answered him and his grin danced with mischief as he swung back around to stroll over to Natasha with his bow forgotten and swinging in his left hand. Sonja did not even feign relaxation but rubbed her thumbs over the sweating hilts of her daggers.

“This about the Avengers initiative? I read all about it last week,” Natasha said.

“You know it is. That’s why you let us capture you.”

“Let?” Sonja’s arms slipped from their protective frame.

Clint pushed on, feigning deafness when Sonja knew good and well his hearing aids were in. “You’ve got a nasty ledger and S.H.I.E.L.D. only wants to help you rectify it through the Avengers.”

“Avengers?” Sonja questioned.

“I’m fine where I am,” Natasha retorted giving the glowing shackles weighing down her feet a good tug and only ending up on her knees which, despite the powerless position, she somehow conveyed was right where she wanted to be.

Clint sighed and dropped as well. “You’re fine painting every city you go to with blood for people you don’t even know? The Avengers are going to protect the world and we want you to be a part of that.”

“Cute speech. Did Sonja feed it to you? You’re not bright enough to try the emotion ploy.”

Sonja was too busy puzzling how she knew her name to reply. That’s when the first bullet cut through the air and buried itself clean in Clint’s left calf. When he keeled forward in pain, Natasha swiped the gun tucked into the back of his belt and began firing to cover all their asses.

Lurching forward, Sonja kicked the door shut and pried her pistol from her belt as her back smacked against the wall. “Clint!” she called when he finally lifted himself from the ground.

“You led the Samarians here!” Natasha shouted as bullets pelted the door and walls relentlessly.

“Whoops,” Clint managed.

“Damn right you’re gonna need my help with the Avengers if you can’t even manage to stay off their radar. I assume you at least had an escape route in place.”

Clint wiped his bloody hand off on his shirt and primed an arrow for release should their defenses be breached by the crew. “Boat out back.”

“You’re gonna have to uncuff me.” Natasha called, firing precisely through an already fragile portion of the wall to produce a thunk of dead weight only a few yard away.

The deadly accuracy made Clint hesitate as he added in yet another variable, but Sonja just tossed the keys without a word and returned to keeping her gun aimed at the door.

“Barton go first and we’ll cover you,” Natasha called as she dodged a bullet cutting entirely too close to her brain. When she sat up straight again a line of red across her forehead added to her already flaming hair and scarlet pjs look.

Clint’s gaze snapped to Sonja unwavering in its unspoken question: would she be ok alone?

“Get out of here, Hawkeye,” she added the last bit to help him depersonalize, to remind him this was just a mission and all lives involved were expendable. “I’m right behind you,” she continued when he did not move.

His mouth curved up as he heaved himself onto mostly steady feet and sprinted to the backdoor while Sonja and Natasha laid down cover fire until both were down a clip. “Together?” Natasha called.

“Hell, why not?”

Sonja leapt up first, followed shortly by the much faster woman. The night air was thick with humidity that only pooled more sweat on their skin. On the free side of the house, a man screamed as the now awakened guard dog set to work. The other side was occluded by the closely stacks buildings and on the water just ahead, Clint revved the waiting engine of the speed boat.

Natasha waded into the water and slung her leg over the side, hauling herself on board in one fluid motion. Sonja had time to see her eyes go wide before she heard the other female voice cut through the night, “Chief!”

A sword was leveled at her instead of a gun and Sonja had the absolute pleasure of facing her old boss when she turned around. “Ma’am,” she replied without a trace of emotion.

She heard the cock of Natasha’s gun along with the wiry draw of Clint’s bow and briefly wondered if he could even keep his hands steady at the moment due to the blood loss.

“Or is it Agent Zero now?”

“Whatever you prefer, Ma’am.”

“Shall we settle this like the duals of old or has all your honor gone through the window with the american?”

Sonja heard Natasha grumble about being ignored as she tucked her gun into her pocket and produced a dagger. The other hand reached for her back pocket slower all the while keeping her opponent's gaze fixed on her words. Ma’am’s bulky henchmen fanned out behind her patiently waiting to be allowed to have some fun with the traitor and spy.

“What can I say? He brought presents.”

She waited the appropriate ten seconds for the meaning behind her words to smash into Clint before she pulled the pin. The homemade grenade sailed from her hand while her body was flung in the other direction. Her side slammed into the boat and Natasha just managed to get a drip on her belt before Clint slammed the throttle into its highest gear. He was ducked on the floor by the steering console for safety just as Natasha had thrown herself beneath the low walls at Clint’s advisement.

“When did you even have time to make that?” he demanded, driving blindly down the wide river.

“You’re the one who apparently knows everything,” she snapped.

“Christ, I’m sorry, alright. You weren’t cleared to know.” He paused then turned to her while Natasha huffed and took over driving. “Zero failed missions?”

“Guess again.”

“Zero like you were the original?”

“You’re not cleared, asshole.”

***

Natasha made airports her bitch with the new fresh faced S.H.I.E.L.D recruits scurrying behind her toting her luggage and a flight attendant rushing to retrieve her properly iced water. She shot Sonja a lazy wink but the other woman was too busy scowling away any potential disturbances to do anything other than reshoulder her backpack.

Clint took the lead, his reputation sending the herd of freshmen scattering in his wake of glory. Sonja quickened her steps, determined to talk to him now that the paramedics aboard their evac copter were no longer shooting him full of drugs.

“You’re not careless,” she said once she matched long legs to his abrupt stride.

“Think Nat will make them carry her?” he mused, wincing when he stopped focusing on his uneven gait.

Sonja caught under his arm and he glanced over through sleep deprived blue eyes and the tangles his cropped hair had somehow managed to tie itself into. “You gonna make me carry you?” she countered.

“I’ve got it.”

The usual airport crowd of proud mothers, blubbering fathers, and excitable kids ready to go off and make lives for themselves meandered past them. Sonja wondered what life awaited her back at S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters.

“I was born there, you know. S.H.I.E.L.D that is. Born and raised. I don’t exist to our government because S.H.I.E.L.D doesn’t. I’m nothing, I’m just zero.”

“I let the Samarians follow us,” he admitted in the breath after she finished her confession.

“I know. You’re not careless. You needed a common enemy for us to get Romanov on our side.”

“I was going to apologize for ruining your original mission, but I think all of earth takes precedence. We wouldn’t have made it out of there if not for you.”

“Taking out Ma’am was my mission Clint. Yesterday was the first time I saw her in person. I spent years working my way up through the ranks only to figure out I would only ever be important to her when I betrayed her.”

“You’re welcome, then.” He leaned in when he sang it and she gave his face a shove away as they exited the building through sliding glass doors and reached a junction in the sidewalk where she would climb into the car that would carry her home and he would get in his rental and drive out to his next mission.

“How long has it been since you’ve been stateside?”

“Just four years. I haven’t been home since I was a teenager, though when I completed my training.”

“You don’t have to face those bastards, you know. I’ve got something involving lightning and a hammer waiting for me. Could use some backup I trust.”

“Sounds alpha level. I’ll leave you to it.”

He nodded, shifting his weight off his bad leg and closing the humming space between their bodies just enough for her to notice it was deliberate. Her hand shifted under the strap of her bag while she toed at some bits of loose gravel beneath her sneakers.

“Guess this is goodbye, then. Keep an eye on Nat for me, will you? She respects you.”

“Only because she was comparing me to you.”

His mouth pulled up in a smile she had grown all too accustomed to seeing regularly and had truthfully taken for granted now that he was leaving. The civil term of closer inspection crossed her mind as she leaned in further still followed by the embarrassing real word she had been searching for--a kiss.

She could not even recall the last time she had kissed someone without an ulterior motive. She expected him to politely return it or to laugh and tell her to collect herself, not for him to bite her lip and slide his lips between hers like the whole damn earth might spin off course if he did not. His hands were soft in her hair and his hand slid down tracing over her cheek so that his fingers replaced his lips when he reluctantly pulled away.

“Put a pin in that, Sonja?”

“You mean like when I pinned you? Or what I pulled the pin on the grenade?”

“No explosions and no more beating me up.” He punctuated his sentence with a rushed kiss to her forehead. “Unless we can twist those into kinky things.”

“Oh, it’s possible,” Natasha called as she strolled past and climbed into the waiting black SUV.

Sonja gave his chest a push and took two controlled steps backwards simply because if she didn’t there was no guarantee either of them would be setting out on their respective journeys today.

“Goodbye,” Sonja said.

With a wink that sent her spiraling higher than the pyres of Moscow’s finest cathedrals Clint Barton was gone.

#clint barton #clint barton fanfiction #clint barton smut #clint barton x reader #clint x reader #hawkeye #Avengers #avengers headcanon #avengers smut #avengers imagine #avengers drabble

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heartless-error · 4 years

Text

Broken, not perfect, but together. - Chapter 7

Fandom: DC comics, Batman

Pairings: Jonathan Kent x Damian Wayne (JonDami) & Jason Todd x Timothy Drake (JayTim)

Rating: Family feels, hurt/comfort, mental health issues, running away, relationship reveal

Other(s) links: AO3

Broken.

The Batfamily was broken.

It was six years ago, and they had barely stood together since then, trying to stand up despite guilt and regret.

Damian was sure there was nothing to save, not after losing something that he didn’t know he cared about. But when a new opportunity to get back what they had lost appeared, he cannot help to doubt as his past decisions haunt him again.

If you love somebody, set them free. But you don’t know what you have until it’s gone.

Chapter Summary: That night, for a single moment, he thought that was good and everything would change. It did, but not in the way he wanted, because it wasn't that easy.

Chapter 7

Six years ago

When Nighwing and Robin returned to the cave after patrol, Red Hood’s bike was already there.

In the usual darkness and humidity atmosphere of the cave, Damian looked at the vehicle bored like always, already used to Red Hood visits without warning and even expecting an annoying welcome from him. It didn’t come, but he knew that the slight tension in Nightwing’s shoulders was not only because of the stroke of luck that any thug had managed to give him tonight, but because unlike him, he was still slightly on guard when Todd appeared around them.

However, they couldn’t see him anywhere. And while that might be alarming to Dick, Damian found it a relief not to have to suffer in his flesh how irritating the second Robin could be.

“Shall we go to medbay, little D?” Asked Dick Grayson in that gentile tone that he hated so much in these situations.

“It’s not necessary.”

It really wasn’t. The discomfort he felt in his left ankle after landing badly during the fight was banal and didn’t need to be attended at all. A couple of days off would be enough, even less. He wasn’t that weak.

“It will only be a moment, come on.” The older insisted. “Then we can rest, I’m sure Alfred has done something to us.”

“Tt.”

“At least we have to bandage that ankle.”

“My ankle is fine.”

The patrol had been fairly quiet, except for the little fight with Riddle and some of his thugs at the end of it, where Nightwing had been bruised a little and Robin had fallen awry at some point. In the end they had won, unsurprisingly, and Batman told them to return to the base while he was finishing the work alongside the GCPD.

He knew it wasn’t just because they were done for tonight, but to make sure their wounds weren’t serious. And they weren’t, a couple of punches in the face and a sprained ankle are like a starter for either of them, seriously, Damian had gotten worse injuries by playing hide and seek with Todd and Brown. But no matter how much he repeated this to his father and Grayson, he knew the last would drag him to the medbay as soon as they arrived, even if it was to apply an ointment as if he were still a child who didn’t know how to take care of himself.

He was 16 and had only stumbled on the edge of a building. Calm down.

“Grayson, I repeat that it’s not necessary.” He said again annoyed, even though the other one had already started to push him towards the medbay. “I am in perfect condition.”

“You are limping.” He replied in a serious reproach. “If I won’t check you up Alfred will do it, what do you prefer?”

Damian rolled his eyes, he shouldn’t abuse his weakness for Pennyworth in that way, nor to point out his innocent and banal limp, which was jus annoying. Grayson was not always going to get away with everything, although this time he was going to do it, seeing how he was dragged to that part of the cave without being able to resist. Sometimes it’s better to know when to surrender.

He noticed how the older had not only examined him, but also his surroundings, with that slight tension increasing as they moved. Surely, he was trying to determine Todd’s location to keep an eye on him in that way Dick denied he did.

“He’s with Drake, like always.” Damian though with boredom.

It was very hard not to question Grayson’s detective skills when he didn’t seem to know -or rather want to accept- that the only reason Todd put a foot into the cave or any territory of the bats, was Drake. That, and maybe when he didn’t have a choice.

Although the silence was unexpected, since Red Hood made sure to be noticed in the place with the aim of ruin everyone night with his shrill false laughs, his harsh words full of sarcasm, his complaints, insults, and meaningless nicknames. It didn’t take much thought to conclude that he would be with Red Robin somewhere. When Drake deigned to also appear there after patrol -generally when he didn’t have many options either- it wasn’t unusual for him to accompany or take him there, which explained the bike. The “red team” was a very annoying pack that sometimes shown to reaffirm that, indeed, the black sheep of the family had come together to… Well, do whatever they do when they are together.

The last could variate from sharing cases and information between them, to having a heated debate about which Star Wars movie is the best. It depends of the day, but Damian generally preferred to be cautious in knowing where they were and what they were doing since that time he got into that debate and they joined forces to try to hang him upside down in one of the manor’s chandeliers.

“What movie do you want to see later?” Dick asked, giving him a friendly pat on his back.

“None.” He replied impassively. Although remembering about the chandelier episode made him wants to see Return of the Jedi.

“Come on, Dami!” The other complained. “I have to go back to Bludhaven tomorrow, can’t we have brothers time?”

“No.”

“Ouch.”

“I can’t.” He just explained it so that he would never have to hear that complaint, not worthy of an adult man. “I’m meeting someone.”

He knew exactly what Dick was thinking from the way he raised his eyebrows and looked at him more intently. Needless to say, he didn’t like it, least of all when his eyes began to shine with amusement, as if he was about to insinuate something. The worst part of having older siblings was precisely this.

“Oh?” He cooed. “With whom?”

“Jonathan.” He hastened to say so that he wouldn’t have to bear one more of his questions. “I said him I’d call after patrol.”

His time to see Jonathan had been reduced since he entered Gotham High, but they had been calling and they could last hours.

On the other hand, he knew what his older brother had assumed. Since he turned 14 approx. it looked like he and his father had been watching him closely to determine when to gave him that talk. They were like hawks waiting for prey outside the burrow, every time they thought they could give way to that moment, their eyes sparkled and the discomfort along with nervousness flooded them. The first few times it was fun, but when your father seems about to collapse because you invited a classmate home, stops. It was annoying and totally unnecessary and, to be honest, he prefer to sleep three weeks on Todd’s moldy sofa rather than having to go through the talk with any of them.

“Oh, I see.”

Dick’s curiosity dissipated in a second as he shrugged, totally agree that he had put his best friend up for that night and relaxing because it wasn’t a girl, or whatever he thought.

In one way or another, both his father and Grayson always ceased those alarmed looks and attempts to give him the talk when he mentioned his plans with Jonathan. They didn’t seem to find suspicious the fact that the super was the only person he allowed such proximity, or hold hands, or he called him almost every night, or even he escaped some of them to sleep at his home. No, for them it wasn’t an indicator that they were missing something important, they just let their guard down, let it pass and believed there was nothing else.

Very naive on his part.

“You can invite others to your movie night.” He hinted with a huff, quite irritated, already approaching to the medbay.

Both knew who he meant by “others”. Damian was aware that as vigilant as he was at first, Grayson missed his other siblings, despite the fact their relationship hadn’t been the same for years.

You could tell from the way he looked sad when he had to be on guard around Todd, when Drake refused to trust him with anything personal or even the nostalgic, sorry smile that crossed his face when he suggested that as opened the medbay door.

“I don’t think they could, they sure are bus-”

He didn’t finish the sentence, because when they entered at the room the scene inside stunned them and paralyzed everything in an extremely uncomfortable and heavy silence, almost suffocating them.

Tim and Jason parted from the deep, slow kiss they were sharing almost immediately, their sharps eyes shining and staring at them in a mixture of surprise and dread. They hadn’t been quick enough to disguise his actions, nor would they have been out of the question when Todd was still between the other’s legs and squeezing his hips tightly while Drake sat on the bed holding onto his shoulders.

They were silent, he didn’t remember have never lived such an awkward moment in the cave. They were all looking at each other intently and with an oppressive tension flooding the room, threatening to crush them apart. Each one analyzing the others and on guard as ever, waiting for anyone to attack at the slightest movement.

Damian couldn’t locate the expressions in conflict of the others, they were a mixture of mistrust, suspicion and courage, the latter being the one wining as they recovered from the initial surprise of being discovered and began to raise their defenses little by little. Tim showed coldness and control, while Jason bristled completely. On the other hand, Dick had remained still as a statue beside him, barely breathing, he couldn’t glimpse his expression.

He was still too, not knowing how to proceed, but somehow while a part of him was irritated and disappointed (because he knew Drake and Todd were smarter than that and knew how to hide better, what are they doing here?), another felt… calm? He couldn’t determine what emotions should he face right now, but there was a concern in his mind that had been there before entering the room. This had grown stronger and twisted in an unpleasant way when Grayson didn’t seem to react the way Damian knew he should by telling him he was meeting with Jonathan, but now…

He looked at Jason, then at Tim, at Jason, at Tim, at Jason, at Tim again. He noticed how they held each other, how easy they pressed their bodies together and how naturally they seemed to hug; He remembered that calm kiss he had just witnessed, how they seemed to treasure it; Remembered Tim wearing shirts and sweatshirts twice his size, Jason leaving patrol early because he had “a babybird to take care”, the two eating chillidogs on the rooftops, healing each other’s wounds, the smiles, the looks. Both in general.

Damian felt something finally fit inside him.

Beyond understanding better, the relationship of those two, it was as if he had also understood and accepted something of himself. Something that had always been there, but had kept locked up, misunderstood, barely visualized, that when seeing them together had deciphered at the end.

It had always been as if he was envious of them, but not at the same time, and without knowing why. But now, seeing them, he felt like he wanted that, no, he knew he wanted that, but not exactly, and somehow made him happy to admit it to himself for once. He was relieved, as if everything made sense now. Tim and Jason, he and Jon. No more confusion, no more doubts.

Seeing them together, so closely, confirming his suspicions, was like proof of what he could have. That he really could have it, it could happen, and it was fine, he wasn’t alone, he wasn’t the only one. As much as Grayson and his father only became alert when they saw him with a girl, or as much as his mother and grandfather wanted a blood heir with a worthy woman, his brothers could understand what he felt and not judge him, not that he thought the others could do it, but the slight pressure and bitterness that left their expectations was not easy to carry.

But now that he thought about it, both of them never had, they never did that. Tim sided with them when their parents scolded him and Superboy for sneaking into each other’s rooms without permission, making them even accept that it was good for their hero partnership, winking secretly at them at the end; Jason sometimes invite them to food whenever they were on patrol and then leave them alone; and they both did react as they should when they heard something from both of them, but they seemed as reluctant as Damian to give or receive the talk.

A slight smile began to form on his lips, realizing how much this helped him. This could change everything.

It did, but not in the way he thought. It wasn’t that easy.

“W-What’s going on here?”

Nightwing’s puzzled voice broke the silence, further aggravating the atmosphere and making the relief Damian had begun to feel wobble, his little smile fading immediately.

Drake tensed in his seat, Jason frowned further, but they parted to face them properly. Although that didn’t seem to appease Grayson, judging by the rigidity of his posture, as if he were about to attack.

“We had a complication on patrol.” Drake reported with the same professionalism as ever, completely ignoring the real question. “I was hurt, and we came to treat it, we’re already done.”

That explained their presence in the medbay, why he was sitting on the bed, and the gauze and medical material scattered around them, recently used. But at the same time didn’t give any sense about why they were there when they had closer safe houses, why the cave system hasn’t given any notice of their presence and why they were trying to sneak around. Drake was already dressed, his suit hiding any injuries he had come to treat in secret, surely the silence and kisses were useful and more adequate to treat someone while Alfred wasn’t around.

“No.” Grayson denied, clearly that wasn’t what he wanted to know. “T-The other thing… Were you kissing?”

That question asked in a suspicious tone was a direct statement that they had been seen, and he didn’t mean to let it go and pretend he hadn’t see nothing as much as they wanted to, which they didn’t seem to like. Neither Damian because it made look like they were doing something wrong. And they didn’t, right?

“Yeah. So what?” Jason answered directly. It was probably the best; they couldn’t lie when they had two witnesses after all.

“What do you mean “so what”?” Dick replied, his initial surprise turning to a slight reproach. “What the hell-?”

“It’s none of your fucking business.” Todd declared fiercely, wanting to cut everything. “Drop it.”

Of course, he was talking to Dick Grayson, a bat. He was an expert in stick his nose in everything and was stubborn to insufferable levels, he wasn’t going to drop this.

“It is! S-Since when does this happen?”

The last one already had an angry tone, close to a growl, a scolding. It made that feeling of calm that Damian treasured fade away to become a rough and insecure one, growing more and more as Grayson’s anger.

He didn’t even know what to say, at any other time he would have said something. But right now, with emotions flooding him, he knew if he opened his mouth he would agree with Todd and Drake, because is not their business. But if he said it, he was sure he would be sent to his room like a 10-year-old boy who forgot to brush his teeth after dinner.

“Drop it, Dick.” Said Drake, shifting on the bed and ready to leave. “We’re leaving.”

“Tim, please answer my question!”

“You don’t want to know.” He said coldly.

“Why I-”

“Ya don’t give a shit, Dickface.” Hood interrupted him. “But you’re going to start a drama either way.”

“And how do you want me to react?” Grayson replied, pointing at them, exasperated, as if he saw something the others didn’t.

He could partly understand his reaction, it was an unusual revelation and how he had thought before entering the room, Dick’s relationship with them was broken to some levels almost irreparable. He barely saw them, knew something about his actual lives, meet them beyond patrols and missions, could rarely glimpse them from afar and had no chance to interact with them, so the initial shock might have been expected.

“Just leave us alone, dammit!” Said Jason, his angry increased.

“I can’t! You’re siblings!”

That statement shook even him, and it seemed like a slap on the face for the other two.

In theory Grayson was right, but at the same time he was lacking. Legally, on paper, Drake and Todd were brothers, both adopted by Bruce Wayne, that’s right. But to tell the truth, the legal way was not so important in this case, since according to some papers Todd was dead and Drake has a lost uncle who took care of him before. They hadn’t grown up together, nor lived together, they had never even met duly before Todd’s resurrection, they had never seen each other as family, it was a fact.

“It’s not-“ Tim began to explain, before being interrupted again.

“And he tried to kill you”

That accusation, sad and heavy as it would have been said, was like another slap, which again, even reached him. Because if they really started to argue who had tried to kill whom years ago, the argument would last all night, But no doubt it was Jason who was most affected by that, if the way his eyes burned with rage and his expression twisted was an indication. To tell the truth, it’s a miracle he didn’t attack Grayson for real.

“Fuck you!” He attacked resentfully. “It was years ago, asshole!”

“So what?” Dick returned his previous words, also letting his emotions dominate him. “Jason, you are still a murderer!”

It was obvious from the way he said it and spat out the words he hadn’t thought much about the consequences of saying them, maybe he didn’t really think that. He was simply angry, nervous, confused by what he had discovered, and all of that clouded his judgement. But knowing that didn’t stop Damian’s throat from closing, and Tim dropped his façade to scold the oldest in an alarmed whisper.

By now it was common knowledge that even if Red Hood sometimes left the rubber bullets to use the reals, the blood shed was from people who couldn’t even be considered one for the atrocities they had committed. But that remained in a gray and diffuse line of morality that some bats still didn’t approve.

“What the fuck are you saying?!”

“I’m saying we can’t trust you!” Dick attacked again. People assumed Grayson was Wayne family’s ray of sunshine, but it was because they had never seen him angry. “You don’t seem to want to change, not to mention the pit influence. You’re dangerous!”

“I’m already over it!” Hearing Jason saying this with fury, but without fight physically with someone at this point, it could be a real clue about how much Jason could restrain himself.

“That was before or after trying to kill Tim for the sixth time?”

“Why don’t you just shut the fuck up?!”

“Because this it’s not okay!” He said pointing at the other two. “It can’t be healthy!”

He was wrong. Damian knew it, but he couldn’t say it, why he couldn’t say it? The unpleasant feeling had grown bigger and bigger, now was crushing him, stopping him from speaking. He was just watching the other two arguing as if this was a tennis match.

“Are you going to lecture us about it? You?” Jason said wryly, laughing out loud. “Sorry. I can’t speak I-fuck-up-all-my-relationships-because-I’m-a-selfish-shit.”

“Listen to me…” Grayson sighed, lowering his tone to a calmer one, just like when he speaks to any victim or an altered civilian. “I love both of you, I’m saying this for your sake.”

“Bullshit.”

“I am your brother and I know either of you are… Unstable, much less to have any type of relationship with the other.”

Damian almost protested, but his reply died in his throat. Because this was another thing Grayson might be right about if he didn’t lack information or common reasoning.

The fact that Todd was a crazy with very violent tendencies was not a secret, but it was true he had improved a lot in controlling himself and the pit rage over time; And regarding Tim, his severe depression and anxiety were also not a secret, you only have to have eyes, but like Jason, he seemed to deal with it better, especially with the right support and setting. The image of them Grayson was relying on to judge the whole thing was not only old but distorted on his part.

“You have no fucking idea, so do us all a favor and stop talking.” Jason sentenced, more defensive than ever.

“I know-“ Dick tried to keep explaining.

“You don’t know anything, Dick.” Said Tim, again in that icy and sharper tone. “Nothing.”

Somehow, Tim’s harsh coldness seemed to affect him much more, causing him to shake his head and look at them stunned, as if he couldn’t understand why they didn’t listen to him or understand what he wanted to say when he supposedly wanted to protect them.

Damian had no doubt that was Grayson’s goal, after all, to protect them, from themselves and each other. But didn’t he realize it wasn’t necessary? Robin had been around those nights when Red Hood didn’t use real bullets or refused to be lethal, when Red Robin was persuaded to go to sleep or rest, and during some breakfast without capes after. He could say that part of Garyson’s reasoning was based in past events that had lost value today.

They should have, right? Because if not, what about him?

Swallowing the lump in his throat and wanting to ignore that unpleasant and accusatory feelings that flooded him, he tried to speak at last, when another voice, much lower than his and already known, knocked them all down.

“What’s going on here?”

All of the Robins straightened up instantly, glancing at the door where Batman himself were standing impassively and firmly. No one had noticed his presence, nor how long he had been there. A defeated sigh and murmured curses were heard, the heated and aggressive atmosphere that surrounded them turned again in an uncomfortable and distressing silence. Damian felt he might start to sweat.

Nobody moved, each of them carefully evaluating his options. Drake, despite his position on the bed, looked at the exits they would have available if they were too fast; Todd raised his head and looked at them defiantly, still close to Tim in an obstinate posture.

He didn’t blame them, if Grayson had reacted like that, being as stubborn as he was, his father was not going to be better.

This wasn’t going to end well.

“What’s going on?” Again, Batman asked with authority, making everyone shudder.

They were too used to responding to that voice immediately. And he supposed it wasn’t pleasant to come back and find half of your kids yelling at each other, but Drake and Todd didn’t move, and Damian didn’t want to either, but he felt he should. He had been in conflict since he opened that door and saw his supposed older brother’s reaction to something he considered good.

“Father- ”

“Red Hood and Red Robin are compromised.” In the end, it was Nightwing who spoke, cutting off his chance to stop this.

The first in fall apart, as always.

The silence followed that was tense and suffocating again. The seconds Batman took to answer seemed like hours, and during that time Damian couldn’t help but wonder if Dick had referred to Tim and Jason as Red Hood and Red Robin because if he put the vigilante’s identities before his brother’s it was easy for him to behave like an asshole who doesn’t listen.

“I see.”

He doesn’t. Surely, he was as surprised as them, but trying not to show it. Supposedly he was the best detective in the world, but he had not been able to realize what was happening between his pupils until now.

“For how long?”

Silence.

The last question was directed at the involved, but none of them seemed to want to give any details.

Even Damian’s stomach was churning at this, and he didn’t blame Todd for frowning any further, because this interrogation made no sense, even to him, and even though it wasn’t the first time he doubted his father and brother’s actions, it was the first one in which he strongly disagreed.

“I’m done.” Jason ended up saying before the second question were made. “We’re leaving.”

Nodding, Tim leaned against the side of the bed and stood up, ready to follow him toward the exit, which was cut off by the other vigilantes. However, the following words stopped then in their steps.

“No. Red Robin stays.” The dark knight declared. “Red Hood is leaving.”

Both looked at him astonished. Nightwing lowered his head.

“What?” Tim asked, surely his head setting up a plan already.

“You are hurt and compromised.” He told them directly, they weren’t even going to wonder how he had found out everything. “We will examine you and discuss the details of this matter tomorrow.”

He said the last looking at Tim and the medical supplies were used earlier, but the way they reacted, as if they were going to knock them off at any moment, didn’t say anything good. Tim stepped back and Jason and covered him with his height, trying to attract the attention to him.

“Don’t even dream about it, Bats.” The taller one growled. “We are leaving.”

“Guys…” Dick pleaded.

“You can’t retain me.” Tim said firmly. He was right, there was no way to contain him in a place against his will, because he would end up destroying the place and turned it into ashes just to get out.

“You shouldn’t worry unless you have something to hide.”

The implication of those words made Damian almost yell at him with fury, angry at his father for real for the first time in his life.

“What are you implying?” Tim asked, more puzzled at each moment. The initial defenses he had built in front of them at the beginning seemed to break down more and more, and it wasn’t a worth thing to see.

“Hood has shown violent tendencies towards you for years, which he continues to direct towards others. Your mental health is unstable as well as a suspicious effort to hide your wounds for a long time.” Batman said impassively, agreeing with Nightwing. “We know how to recognize the symptoms of a potential abusive relationship, and since you don’t want to cooperate, we can’t let you go before we obtain more details.”

Damian wanted to throw up.

“How can you think something like that?” Said Tim seriously, his icy anger seeping into every word.

The question rather was “How can you think something like that of us?” Because if someone here was aware of what an abusive relationship was and its consequences, was Jason, whom his violent father beat him after having knocked his mother up. Red Hood was feared among abusers for a reason, or he was the only one who knew that? Also, Tim had always had an unhealthy tendency to hide his wounds, even before he became Robin. The fact his father was relating everything to reach that conclusion and pretending he was objective, was even offensive.

“I haven’t assumed anything.” He tried to reason, though there was no way to believe him. “But this information is sudden and suspicious, we need to have evidence and facts beyond your words to determine what to do.”

With evidence, he was referring to Tim, and what he thought he was hiding under his suit. Which he didn’t seem very willing to share judging the way he walked a few steps away, determined.

“You already have.” Jason replied. “And it doesn’t matter what we tell you, you’re going to assume and do whatever you want. As always, it’s your fucking style.”

“Your background is not the best.” His father answered. It was amazing how he was treating the whole thing like a daily mission, rather than a revealed relationship. “You are not objective and your reaction to this only gives us more reasons to reaffirm it has to end.”

Unfortunately, he was right about one thing. The firmly way of refusing to show Tim’s wounds or being examined, however exaggerated, was a proof that there was something they didn’t want them to see.

However, because the way Todd faced them, it seemed to want to protect him from it, it indicated more that it was something caused by someone else. What’s more, the simple idea Todd could hurt Drake again, after knowing the truth of their current relationship, shook him inside.

“Your reasons are bullshit.”

“Little wing, you’re not helping…” Said Dick, thinking he would calm him.

“Don’t call me that!” Jason shouted enraged. At this point, it was such a win he didn’t resort to violence. And how did his father and Grayson not noticed how much Todd improved when he could perfectly shoot them for this years ago?

“We do it for the good of both of you.” Bruce said again, really convinced.

“You want to force us to break up!”

“Please, Tim, just let us check up tonight’s wound at least.” Dick said then, focusing in the other, taking a step closer to them.

“Get away!” Jason shouted defensively, making him stand still.

“We are worried!” The first Robin said.

“You are being irresponsible and a danger to yourself and others in the field.” Batman declared again in that authoritative voice they were supposed to obey.

“You two can stick your concern and the field in your asses.” Todd spat scornfully. “Do you even listen to yourself when you speak?”

“I’m yours-”

Neither was sure what Bruce was going to say exactly, but whatever it was they wouldn’t have been pleased under these circumstances.

Despite this, Damian didn’t even have time to think about it, or that or anything in general, because while they were still arguing, he instinctively focused on Drake, who had quietly retreated to lean on the edge of the bed and remained in an unusual silence with his head down, without apparent intention to intervene.

“You’re nothing!” Jason cut Bruce up again. “Just a fucking hypocrite, you say we are a danger out there, but when it comes to you and Catwoman isn’t?”

“Jason!” Dick exclaimed.

Tim was vert quiet. Too much, right from the start, especially when his sharp sarcasm was what he used to stand out the most when he was deep in an argument. But now, even with Selina Kyle being mentioned, she hadn’t even flinched.

Damian swallowed, tried to ignore the screams around him, and looked at Tim carefully, still lying down on the mattress’s side and having raised a hand to rest on his forehead. Something was off.

“What, hypocrite number 2? Do you want me to remind all the dangers you had in the field?” Jason continued, his anger more than palpable and lashing out at everything he had. Even if he couldn’t attack physically, he’s still fearsome. “You are just making excuses, but I repeat you’re nothing for us now, you cannot tell us what to do.”

“Enough.” Bruce said sternly. “Leave. It’s impossible to reason with you in this state.”

Damian looked at Tim more closely. The way he cringed on the mattress and struggled to hide his presence in the background, as if he wanted to be unnoticed; His hand on his face didn’t move, but his breathing was heavy, his posture didn’t indicate that he was suffering any pain or discomfort; His head was down, he couldn’t catch his expression, couldn’t see his eyes, but there was something…

“Stop it.” Damian whispered in realization.

“I’m not going to move! You never gave a shit about us, and suddenly this?”

“Jason, that’s not true.” Dick complained, exasperated.

The discussion continued; his words weren’t heard.

“You’ve been years without knowing anything from us!”

“It’s not like that!”

“Stop it.” Damian repeated, this time a little louder.

“No? You only want to play the perfect family when you need us in the fucking crusade.”

“What? No!”

“Of course not! After all, you’re the golden child, who has not been discarded as trash.” He said to Grayson feigning a compassionate tone. “But it’s all a lie, like him, all you know is how to discard the unworthy toys after they fail.”

That broke Damian inside, and made Tim gasp.

“STOP IT!”

That scream was what finally ended it all.

Damian didn’t know he was going to scream so loudly, but all he was certain was that he felt like he was going to explode at any moment, and he didn’t like seeing Drake cry. Because he had never seen him shed a single tear, never, ever. Despise everything he had done to him, everything he had said, everything he knew he had lived through. Not once, until now. The implication that all of this could get him reach that point made him want to scream at his brother and father non-stop, a sense of need of protection had arisen him without realizing it.

The argument was instantly finished, leaving behind shaky breaths, the natural sound of the cave behind them, and Tim’s almost silent sobs, which he struggled to hide as if his life depended on it.

He could feel the confusion and guilt of everyone in waves, as well as the indecision of not knowing what to do or how to continue this. Neither seemed to want to change their minds, some wanted to leave and be together, and others wanted them to stay and break up. Grayson seemed to be restraining himself so as not run where the third Robin was and comfort him, also moderating himself because Todd hadn’t moved yet from his place, covering the smallest vigilante even if everything in him indicated how much he wanted to turn around and calm him.

Damian shook his head, almost defeated. Too many emotions flooding him in the moment, none of them good. Some things said in the argument resonated strongly in his mind, causing the confidence he had built at the beginning of the night to collapse like a sandcastle. He couldn’t even let go of the fact he had frozen from the start, like he was a beginner on his first mission, unable to react. He wanted to refute so many things, all of them, to tell them half of what they thought was not true, what they wanted to do wasn’t the right thing even if they think otherwise.

“Robin, to your room.”

That order cut the silence like a sharp knife.

“No.” He instantly refused.

He couldn’t go, not like that. They couldn’t leave him out of this like he was still a child.

“Robin.” Batman repeated more seriously than ever, as if giving him an ultimatum.

He didn’t move.

At least he didn’t plan to do it. He wanted to say many things, everything he hadn’t been able to during the argument. What they knew, what they didn’t, where they were wrong, what they had made wrong, good and the bad decisions.

But then, he raised his look and his eyes met with Tim’s across the room, watery and red, but shining in determination. His hand on the mattress that he could see form his position moved, giving him Titan’s own directions to communicate with him in secret.

“It’s okay. Go. I’m sorry.”

He looked at Jason, who still impassive, narrowed his eyes at him.

For some reason, they didn’t want him to get involved.

Damian took a step, then another, another and yet another, his ankle throbbing in pain, but ignored it. Before he knew it, he was running into the manor, straight to his room, wearing Robin’s uniform despite Alfred’s strict policy and ignoring the pain in his joint, because there were things that hurt him more right now.

Even the loud slamming of the door didn’t help to clear his mind, as he was still assimilating the facts and claims he had heard down there. He leaned his back against the door and tried to breathe deeply, but he couldn’t, he was drowning, he was sinking, everything hurt, he didn’t feel his ankle. Damian ended up sitting on the floor with the weight of the words increasing more and more on him.

“He tried to kill you.” “You’re a murderer.” “We cannot trust you.” “Dangerous.” “Not okay.” “Can’t be healthy.”

Beyond the sound of his heavy breathing, the pounding of his heart and Grayson’s voice running through him and hammering his head, he heard the predetermined melody of his phone, ringing near him.

“Abusive relationship.” “It has to end.” “Irresponsible.” “A danger in the field.”

His phone continued to ring. He knew who it was, he had promised to call him after all. Just like the other nights.

“Play the perfect family.” “Just like him.” “Throw away the unworthy toys.”

He ignored that call and the following ones. Just shrugged on himself and didn’t move until next morning.

By then his brothers were already gone.

#myfic #tim drake #jason todd #damian wayne #jon kent #jonathan kent #timjay #jaytim #jondami #damijon #red robin #red hood #robin #superboy #supersons #dc #dc comics #batman #batman comics

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velmalav · 5 years

Text

call my bluff: part one {r.t.}

warnings: smut, swearing.

synopsis: reader and roger hate each other, but get drunk one night and wake up in bed together.

word count: 3k+

***

You never liked parties much. They were always too overwhelming, too many people crammed into one space. Not to mention that despite all of the unfamiliar faces and drunken stumbling (usually into you), you could know almost everyone at a party and still feel alone and uncomfortable. By the end of the night, you always found yourself backed into a corner and sipping your drink with an arm draped across your stomach. An introvert by nature, but an insecure one at that.

And that’s why it was so unlike you to be at one now. Your usual place at Freddie’s house was a sofa under the stairs – something he’d thrown together specifically for you and your anxieties. Most people never bothered to even notice the small heap of cushions, and really, no one but you, Fred, and the other members of Queen really even knew of its existence. All in all, it made Freddie’s ragers bearable, and that’s all you could really ask for.

The only reason you were there now was because it was his birthday, and quite frankly, he’d murder you if you even thought of skipping out. So for weeks, you’d picked at your fingernails at just the mere thought of the event. Ironically, that’s exactly what you were doing now as you followed Brian and John through swarms of people.

“Didn’t it just start?” you muttered, tightening your grip on the back of John’s t-shirt. He sent you a fleeting smile over his shoulder as you three continued your invisible conga line through Freddie’s house. You nearly stumbled into John as he abruptly paused in his tracks, hands flying to his back to steady yourself. “Could’ve warned me,” you grumbled.

“Sorry, Chris just whisked Brian away,” John replied before pulling you beside him. You both wandered to the one place you wanted to be, but right before you turned the corner to the staircase, he backed off. “I’m gonna get some drinks. Save me a seat, will you?” you could hear the sarcasm in his voice.

Nobody ever sat on your bloody couch—

Your eyebrows furrowed at the sight in front of you as your beloved safe space came into view. Roger fucking Taylor – the absolute last person you wanted to see, was perched in your spot, an ankle slung around a knee and both arms hugging the back of your lime green sofa. He jangled a glass around in one of his hands as he chatted up the girl beside him. She leaned into him – in your spot – and whispered something in his ear.

“Excuse me,” you interrupted, eyes flaming as you stared Roger down. He seemed pleased at the expression on your face as you made your way over, a hand falling to your hip. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Taylor?”

“Having a chat with lovely…Denise,” Roger hesitated at her name, but his smug tone never faltered. The girl raised an eyebrow before peeling herself off of him.

“Deanna,” she snapped, snatching the drink from Roger’s hands and standing. “My name is Deanna, you dick.”

“I knew that,” he coolly smiled, but didn’t seem to be concerned with the woman’s sudden change of heart. She glared at him for a moment longer before storming off, tugging her tight dress down as she went. You couldn’t help but crack a satisfied smile, causing Roger to shift on the sofa. “Go find yourself somewhere else to squat because you won’t find me moving, Y/L/N.”

Your smile fell immediately, eyes blazing once more. “Couldn’t help yourself, could you? Had to make sure you’ve shagged on every piece of furniture in Fred’s house, huh?”

Roger scoffed, head turning to the side. “Would be a fun challenge, but I’d much rather watch you squirm in the corner, lovely. Seems to be what reels in all of the men you’ve shagged, now doesn’t it?” he pointed at you with his a nimble finger, a smirk tugging at his mouth.

“I—“ you began, searching for a good comeback, but failed to fish one out and huffed. “You know what? Have the fucking couch for all I care.”

Roger hummed in agreement and lit up a cigarette. “I’ll make sure to take good care of it for you.”

You and Roger had always butted heads. The first time you ever met him, you sensed his aura of…irresponsibility. A playboy, a sarcastic little shit, a man who never took the time to grow up. In some ways, you liked those qualities – they suited Freddie just fine – but on Roger? They were deceitful. You decided right then that you wanted nothing to do with him.

And just like Roger had guessed, you soon stood at the archway of the hall, the drink that John fetched you in your hand. Bodies mushed against you, some muttering apologies and others blatantly disregarding you. You stared down into your cup and tried to ignore the rough thumping in your chest. John would occasionally reach over and make a snide comment about someone’s ridiculous costume to lighten the mood, but you couldn’t get out of the funk you were in.

Freddie came and went, greeting you with wide open arms and a bubbly shout. He waved his cape around like he was a superhero, insisting you do a shot with him, and then was coasted away by the tens of people trying to get his attention. You took your rightful place beside the bar, now entirely alone as John had left you to chat with some friends.

“Exactly where I thought you’d be,” a voice spoke into your ear, causing you to whirl around. Roger stood there, a smirk already on his cigarette-occupied lips.

“Was kicking me out of my spot not enough for you? Did you have to come and make sure I was still miserable?” you spat. You were socially drained already, and all you wanted to do was run home and crawl into bed.

His eyes faltered at that, but only for a second, before he was stepping closer to you. “Wouldn’t be fun if I didn’t, love.”

The two of you were so close that you felt like you were staring into his soul. Roger flickered his eyes from you to order a round of shots. You scrunched up your nose and finally went to turn your back to him, but he held out his arm so you’d stay put. “Seriously, Roger, what do you want from me? Go find some other girl to pick on why don’t you,” you sighed, folding your arms across your chest.

“Here,” he mumbled, sliding a newly placed shot glass towards you. Your gaze followed his, confused. “You need to get out of your head.”

“What do you mean?” you questioned.

“I’m not a dumbass, Y/N. I know what happens when Freddie forces you to these,” Roger started, holding up his own glass before putting out his cigarette on the surface of the bar. “Just need to let loose for once. It’s sad, and I can’t watch it anymore.”

“As if you’d care either way,” you blow out a breath, tilting your head away from the shot. “I don’t need help from you.”

“I cared the second you scared off my catch for the night,” Roger quipped sarcastically. “Wasn’t gonna steal your precious couch ‘til you so rudely interrupted us. And yes, I’d say you do need the help. So take the damn shot before I call Freddie over and have him force you to give a toast for his birthday.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” you growled with narrowed eyes, but there was a sudden hint of playfulness between the two of you.

Roger glanced between the shot and you, eyebrows raised, as if saying, ‘Call my bluff.’ Without another word, you grabbed the shot and let it slide down your throat. As if he expected it, Roger held out a glass of purple liquid to you. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction, but desperately needing the chaser, you glared at him the whole time you downed the cup.

Roger laughed, but is quickly taken aback as you order another round. You held a shot out to him. “Show me what you’ve got, Taylor.”

The night became a blur of Freddie’s long hallway and dimmed lights. You were aware enough to hold yourself up, but your mind was in shambles, and walking was a motion that needed intense thought. You could feel two hands molding into your hips, fingers playing with the lace material of your dress. It was hot and soothing all at the same time and you could feel your cheeks beginning to flush red, half from the liquor and half from the man touching you.

You could tell he was also just as far gone as you by the way his lips stuttered against the skin of your collarbone. You tipped your head back to rest against the wall, eyes falling to the man kissing up your neck. It was Roger, you recognized him instantly, and a sober you would never be in this position, but a drunk you wanted him like he was the last man on earth. You coasted your hands up to clutch his face, fingers digging into his cheeks a bit as you gravitated his mouth onto yours.

The kiss began slow and needy, teeth nipping at your cupid’s bow, but turned desperate and passionate as you pushed your tongue into Roger’s mouth. He moaned and dug his fingers deeper into your hips, one hand sliding up to feel your chest. He suddenly broke the kiss, both of you panting as if you’d run a marathon. “Guest room down here,” he said in between breaths before gripping onto both of your elbows and guiding you further into the hallway.

“Locked the door,” you confirmed as you both stumbled over to the bed, shedding clothing as you went. Flats, dress, pants. Roger was struggling to unbutton his shirt when you reached him and pulled the material apart impatiently, buttons tumbling to the ground at your actions.

“Fuckin’ hell, Y/N,” he drunkenly snickered, leaning forward until his chest touched yours. Both tipsy, laughing messes, you toppled onto the bed. Legs tangled together, hands weaving around body parts.

Roger hovered over you with a glazed over expression, just staring down at you. You were still giggling from ruining his shirt – payback from tonight’s events, you supposed. You swiped a finger at his nose, causing him to lean down and connect your lips again. You grabbed the collar of his torn clothing and held him to you, hand snaking around the back of his neck to trap him. His hands explored your chest, plucking the clasp of your bra apart and tossing it aside. The cool air hit your nipples, and Roger took one in his mouth.

You were always so impatient and horny when you were drunk, so you couldn’t help but squirm in frustration. Even wasted he knew how to anger you. “Get on with it,” you groaned. You even went as far as to pull your panties down your legs and around your feet. You wanted him now.

“Eager, are we?” Roger’s hot breath tickled your tummy as he descended down your body achingly slow. You jostled around, hoping for relief, as two fingers pressed to where you wanted him most. “Waited a long time for this. Gonna take my time,” he murmured, so quietly you almost didn’t hear him.

“Please, just,” you drew in a sharp breath as he moved his fingers in circles against you. Your eyes fluttered shut, moans falling from your lips like a waterfall. His finger slid in easily. Both of you moaned at the feeling, your hands clutching the bed sheets as Roger left sloppy marks across your tummy. His eyes never left you, though, wanting to watch you coil underneath him.

You began to unravel quickly. Sweat beaded at your forehead as your head thrashed to the side, extending your neck out. Roger quickened his pace, but could feel you beginning to clench further around him and stopped. Your eyes flew open to see him above you, eyelids hooded. He was so blissed out that his movements were even slower than before. Your head spun as you rested your forehead against Roger’s cheek and discarded his boxers. He flittered his fingers through your hair once and then proceeded to run a thumb across your lips.

“Roger,” you said. He liked hearing you say his name and hummed in response, then seemed to snap out of his drunken thoughts. “Condom. Now.”

“On it, lovely,” he slurred and hunted through the pants he’d thrown to the ground minutes before. Finding what he needed, he rolled the condom on, and then focused on you. You both shared a look, an intense, lustful one – and then he thrust into you.

Your back lifted from the bed as Roger lazily slid in and out of you, teeth attached to your neck. Sometimes he’d leave sloppy kisses along your throat and collarbones, but mainly desired for your mouth. He went deeper and deeper until he had you just about yelling, happy to cover your mouth as moans continued to pour from it. You yanked at his hair, curling the softness around your fingers as if were the only thing you keeping you in reality.

“Rog,” you cursed like a mantra, over and over and over again, almost in time with his thrusts. He couldn’t handle you saying his name, couldn’t last much longer if you kept letting it spill out like that. Both of you knew that the alcohol was only a catalyst, and before either of you could register it, your orgasms rolled in and blinded you at the same time.

Your moving lips suddenly stopped as you fought to keep yourself together, but seeing Roger fall apart sent you over the edge. Your whole body let loose as you fell back against the soft bed, all of the energy you had suddenly diminished. You could feel Roger plop onto your stomach, arms wrapping around your torso as he caught his breath.

“Fuck,” he whispered, eyelashes fluttering against your belly button. “Should’ve taken this to that hideous green couch.”

You awoke to a surprisingly calm hangover. Your head was light and your mouth wasn’t dry like it typically was after a night of drinking. The only symptom was the intense aching in your limbs that you assumed was from dehydration. But as you tossed a bit in the bed, you realized you weren’t in your flat, and…naked.

Last night flooded back in fragments, the small details nothing but a blur, but the big picture remained. Roger. Touching you. Kissing you. Fucking you. Your cheeks were already flaming, your usual tense demeanor multiplying by a thousand, “Holy shit,” you whispered into the sheets that you had tucked to your nose.

“Holy shit’s right,” Roger’s voice told you everything you needed to know before even looking at him. Smug. So fucking smug. Your hardheadedness kicked in, and you refused to meet his eyes, merely staring straight ahead. You felt a leg brush against yours, to which you instantly ripped yourself away. “Oh, c’mon, love, loosen up.”

“Funny, that’s what you said last night before you got me drunk and…” you started the sentence so defiantly, even perked yourself, but faltered as you realized that there was absolutely no way to come out of this situation the winner. He’d gotten to you. He’d done it. You had become another one of Roger’s conquests, and he was lapping up every second of it.

“What? What did I do, love?” Roger asked. You both stared, your eyes defeated and his lolled, as if he was turned on by the anger boiling in the pit of your stomach.

“You are so gross,” you whined, slapping your hands to your eyes as he laughed.

“Wasn’t last night when I—“

“Stop, stop talking!” you cried, flailing to cover his mouth with both of your hands. He held your elbows to steady you, almost like he did last night in the dim lit hallway.

He peeled your grip off of his lips so he could speak again, still glowing with arrogance. “Been wantin’ to have you for a while, love, don’t worry. It’s inevitable. None of the boys will even care—“

“Because they’ll never know, Roger,” you interrupted again, stare no longer playful. “This was not supposed to happen and it’s never gonna happen again. In fact, it never did. From this moment on, the last ten hours never existed and I will continue to hate you from afar.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you’ll never be able to hate me again. Not after last—“

“Last what?” you cradled your hand against your ear. “Last night? Doesn’t ring a bell—“

Roger snickered, “Mhm, alright,” he concentrated on your lips as he said it.

Fingers gently cradled your hands away from your face. His movements were so light, so delicate that you didn’t rip yourself away as you normally would. His face was centimeters from yours, eyes sheepish and sparkling as he observed your beet red complexion. You let your guard down for one blissful second, already stupidly leaning into him, when a snarky grin appeared on his face.

“Knew I had you,” Roger declared arrogantly, sweet facade dropping in the matter of a second. He tore the sheets from himself and padded to the door of the bedroom. You fell back into your icy stare as he turned back around to flash you a wink. “But don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

***

part 2 // final part

masterlist

#roger taylor x reader #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor blurb #roger taylor fic #roger taylor fluff #roger taylor smut #ben hardy!roger x reader #ben hardy fluff #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy #roger taylor #ben hardy smut #requests #apseventy

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