#gonna draw him fighting a goose | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

topgun-imagines · 2 years

Text

Promise?

Requested: yes

Summary: You hear something that you're not supposed to. Ice tries to explain himself. But is he too late?

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: Fighting, Allusions to smut, Bird strike, Plane crash, mentions of hospitals

Pairings: Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky x Mitchell reader

Carole laughed loudly as Goose played the piano with their son Bradley sat on top singing along. You sat on the left of Maverick with his arm thrown over your and Carole's shoulder as you all watched the two members of your dysfunctional family. “Maverick, would you go fetch him? Doesn't he ever embarrass you?” She laughed popping a piece of popcorn into her mouth.

“Goose? Hell no,” Your brother smiled widely at his best friend. The conversation shifted as Carole brought up Penny Benjamin, the daughter of an admiral that your genius brother had made a pass at. You, Charlie, and Carole all laughed at the expense of your brother as he stood from the table trying to hide his blush from Charlie. “If you ladies will excuse me, I’m gonna go embarrass myself with Goose for a while.”

You were here to assist Viper and Charlie with teaching your brother's Top Gun class. Almost exactly one year ago you yourself were in Pete’s shoes, attending Top Gun before winning the trophy with your RIO. Arriving at Top Gun a few weeks ago you were introduced to the numerous hot shots in the class. The same night that Maverick serenaded Charlie at the bar, you yourself were growing closer with one of the other pilots.

It had all started while she was standing at the bar with her brother and Goose, listening to Goose puncture Maverick's ego by pointing out the best pilot at Top gun. Moments later a tall brunet that you knew as Slider was walking past you, trailing after a blonde before Goose grabbed him. They began a conversation which you paid little mind to, instead sipping on your drink. You paid great attention, however, when a blond walked up to your little group and grabbed one of the shot glasses that Slider held out for him. You definitely recognized him; a face like that was hard to forget. He threw back his shot, grimacing at the taste before he switched his gaze from your brother to you. Something Maverick definitely picked up on. He straitened to his full hight-which was incredibly short-and stood by you defensively, watching his new rival with a hard stare. “I’ll see you later.” He smirked slightly at you, leaving you pleasintly curious to know more about him.

“Please, stay away from him,” Mav mumbled only sparing you a short glance before turning back to Goose while they made some silly bet. Not even a minuet later they had abandon you at the bar. Rolling your eyes you ordered another drink before sitting down on the stool and drawing random shapes in the condensation on the counter.

In the corner of your eye you could see a hand reach in front of you and grab a few pieces of the bar mix. “So, you’re Mitchell’s sister huh?” The voice made you grin slightly, spinning on your stool and meeting the eyes of Leautenint Tom Kazansky.

You nodded slightly. “Also know as your superior.” He grinned at your comeback.

“Tell me you really want me to leave and I will,” When you didn’t say anything and instead nodded to the seat beside you Ice smiled again.

Spinning back, you picked up your newly delivered drink. “You’re rather cocky, aren’t you?” You commented offhandidly. Ice tossed another piece of bar mix into his mouth.

“You don’t seem to mind,” He was 100 percent right. You really didn’t mind at all. Sure, Ice may have a bit of a big ego but so did every other pilot, and if you were being honest, you really did have a thing for men in uniform.

You grinned into your drink. “Just dont be a dick and you can stay,” Chuckling quietly at your remark Ice nodded wordlessly. The two of you spent the rest of your night talking. Moments after Ice sat down you could hear your brother and Goose serenading some poor girl at the bar. A look at her closer caused you to chuckle. Ice shot you a quizzical look. With a grin, you explained that your genius brother had decided to get in the pants of your fellow instructor. Laughing along with you Ice shook his head, fully believing that Maverick would do something like that, intentional or not.

The rest of the night passed in a flash and suddenly the bar was closing. Ice walked you out to your car and grinned softly down at you when you got there. You were almost shorter than Maverick which was saying something. “I had a good time,” Sighing slightly you looked up at Ice to see the soft look in his eyes. You had a feeling he was going so say something like that.

Regardless of your internal dilemma you smiled back at him. You had to be honest with yourself, even though this could get the both of you fierd it was worth the risk. Plus, you definitely weren’t the only instructor getting to close with a student.

Ever since then, you and Ice had grown so much closer, becoming fast friends while you hopped there would be more. It wasnt hard for you to realize when you had fallen for the overly cocky blond pilot. You only hopped he felt the same.

You were brought out of your daydream by Goose calling the three of you over to sing with them at the piano. Your little dysfunctional family crowded around the three that were already there. Maverick pulled you into his right side and Charlie into his left as you put your hand on Bradleys leg and tickled him, grinning when he giggled. Singing loudly, you all laughed before finishing off the song loudly/ “Great balls of fire!”

Carole turned and kissed her husband as you pulled Bradley off the piano and spun him around while he cheered. You let him hop up on your back as your group left the restraunt. While you walked out of the door with Bradley on your back the pair of you teased the two couples around you, Bradley laughing loudly when you fake gagged as you brother kissed Charlie.

Suddenly you stopped. “Damn, I forgot my jacket. I’ll be right back, buddy.” You promised Bradley as you set him on the ground by his parents. Rushing inside you quickly grabbed you jacket from the booth and were about to leave when you heard a familiar voice.

“Come on, Ice,” you peaked around the corner seeing Slider and Ice leaning against the counter. Just as you were about to sneak up behind Ice, Slider continued. “It’s not like you’re doing anything serious with her. If anything you can get one over on Mitchell by screwing his sister.” Ice just laughed. You froze. Is that all Ice wanted to achieve with you? To sleep with you just to piss off your brother?

You were seeing red as you turned on your heel and stormed out of the diner. Plastering on a smile you picked Bradley up again, fighting the tears in your eyes as you walked away from the diner. Away from Ice.

……….

Three days had passed and you were still giving Ice the cold shoulder, doing your best to avoid him in class and completely ignoring him outside of it. He had noticed immediately, trying to get you alone so the two of you could talk about whatever had changed.

You were walking out of the changing rooms just as Ice rounded the corner. His eyes widened when he saw you and quickly rushed forward. “Hey,” He called out softly. “Can we please talk?” At this point you were tired of his words having such a stong effect on how you lived your day to day life. Sure, they had hurt, but he didn’t seem to care in the moments so why should you?

“What do you want, Ice?” He could hear how broken you sounded, no matter how hard you tried to hide it.

Ice stepped closer cautiously. “What happened?” When you didn’t say anything he continued. “We were good, perfect even, and something happened and now you barely even look at me. What changed?” Was he seriously that thick?

Shaking your head with a scoff you looked up at the blond pilot. “Do you honestly think I’m that stupid?” By this point your anger had coverd up your hurt. “I heard you and Slider the other day, Ice,” All he gave you in response was a confused expression. “Seriously Ice? I heard what Slider said. Were you seriously just trying to sleep with me so you could get one up of my brother?” Ice could see the tears gathering on your lashes and instantly knew what you were talking about. “You know what, forget about it. I have somewhere to be. I can’t do this right now.” He watched in shock as you walked away, helmet clutched tightly in your hand.

That day at the diner Ice had been barely paying attention to what his big mouthed friend was saying. So much so that when he heard the name “Mitchell” he just laughed, not at all hearing the rest of the sentence. How could he have been such an idiot?

Ice sighed, deeply regretting both what you had heard and how he let you walk away. Both times. There was nothing he could do about it now.

Up in the air, you were running a standard training exercise with one of the Top Gun teams. You tried not to let your recent conversation with Ice cloud your mind but your attempts were futile. Just under an hour later and you had finished the drill and were leading Chipper and Sundown towards the base when things took a turn.

Suddenly, you could hear the loud thud of a bird bouncing off your wing, another one hitting the windshield moments later. “Bird strike!” You called into the radio. The students behind you breaked left, narrowly missing the rest of the birds. You, However, were not so lucky. “Engine one is out,” Informing the control center, you tried to restart the engine cursing as it caught on fire as soon as you tried it. “Engine two is out. Damint, I’ve lost control!” You tried your hardest to regain control of your aircraft.

Chippers voice sounded over the radio. “Eject! Eject! You can’t save it Trip!” Groaning, you pulled the ejection handle and shot out of your plane, only consious for a few more seconds as you watched it crash into the hill.

..........

When you woke up there was an extreme pounding in your skull. Bringing a hand up you shielded your eyes from the harsh lights as you opened them. You moved to raise your other hand, feeling something weighing it down causing you to furrow your eyebrows. Looking down you suddenly felt extremely conflicted when you saw Ice with his head resting against your joint hands on the hospital bed.

The shifting of your fingers woke Ice up meer moments after you. Once he realized that you were actually awake, he shot up from the uncomfortable hospital chair and placed a hand on the side of your head. “Thank God,” He breathed quietly, pressing his forehead to yours. When he felt you tense he immediately pulled back. He began his long overdue apology. “I’m so sorry. You heard wrong, I promise you. Slider couldn’t keep his big mouth shut and I wasn’t paying attention and I swear on my life that I didnt mean to hurt you.”

You cut him off by pressing your finger to his lips, watching his eyes cross as he stared at it. Which you found rather cute. “Slow down,” you instructed him as you pulled your finger back. He nodded slightly and cleared his throat before starting again. Ice explained how he was paying absolutely zero attention to what his dimwit of a best friend was saying. He explained that he was so zoned out that as soon as he heard the name “Mitchell” he laughed. You weren’t necessarily happy that Ice was accustomed to laughing at your brothers expense but you knew it woud be the same way the other way around so you didn’t say anything.

He finished explaining himself and the pair of you sat in silence as Ice anxiously waited for you to respond. Against your better judgment, you believed him. You knew he was telling the truth, the look in his eyes proving that even further. “Promise?” You whispered brokenly.

You had never seen anyone nod faster in your life. “I promise. I swear on my life, baby.” And you believed him. You always would. Because, even though you tried, you could never deny that you had fallen for the blond haired pilot with and ego to big for his own good. But if anyone were to ask Ice, they would know just how much he loved you, which was more than you would ever know. “I love you, Mrs. Mitchell. And I promise you, I never meant to hurt you. And if I can help it, I never will again.”

His words were sealed with a gentle kiss to your forehead as the pair of you made yourselves comfortable in the tiny hospital bed. Right now, in this moment, it didn’t matter if you were his superior and it didn’t matter if you were mavericks sister. Those were both problems that you could deal with later. All that mattered was that Ice was here with you and that together, you would both be okay. Because you had each other, and thats all you needed.

#ice x reader #iceman #iceman top gun #iceman x female reader #iceman x reader #tom iceman kazansky #tom iceman kazansky fanfic #tom kazansky #tom kazansky x reader #top gun #top gun x female reader #top gun 1986 #val kilmer #top gun fanfiction #top gun x reader #pete mitchell #pete maverick mitchell #Maverick

2K notes · View notes

thebahwrites · 1 year

Note

Slider & Mav + shovel talk...

Slider & Maverick - Shovel Talk (But I'm gonna surprise you <3)

Ron thinks he should be thankful that things worked out between Tom and Pete; it took them long enough after the Layton rescue but he thinks he should be thankful — if it had gone over a year, he'd probably start ripping his hair out. It was even worse not having Goose around to suffer along with but those were thoughts to be buried and not brought up again; the kind that led nowhere and only made him sad to begin with because what else there was to deal?

(Maybe he'd deal with it by himself and a bottle of Jack, when no one was looking.)

But right now, Slider found himself sitting besides Ice who was going over some reports ever so absently, muttering to himself things pertaining to their latest training hop - teaching at Top Gun wasn't a bad place to be so he didn't mind some of these more slowly-trickling days. "What d'you think about Matador Beach?" Tom finally speaks up when Ron was almost dozing off, laying on the couch, he blinks slowly.

"Like... as a place in general or..?" Ice grunts out a small laugh.

"For a date, Kerner." Oh, right, yeah, it made sense. Scratching the side of his neck, all Ron does is shrug, not really thinking too much about it.

"I guess it's fine if you like beaches? Like a picnic or something, right?" Between the two of them, Ron was more impulsive where Tom held back so his dates tended to be a lot less planned than the other's.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Ice shrugs with that typical self-confidence of his and goes back to pour over his reports. Slider's eyes narrow as he realizes he should probably make sure this whole thing doesn't blow over Ice's face. Not that his friend needs protecting but it's always good to secure and Maverick was a damn menace who often needed corralling so a shovel talk, before things got super serious between those two idiots, was more than due.

It wasn't hard to find Maverick these days, if he wasn't on the tarmac or the bar or the hangar, he was at Carole's. (Whom Slider had been avoiding like the plague and he was sure to get an earful from.) So it was quite easy to, on the very next morning, when out for a run to detour so he'd hopefully find Mitchell there; which he did.

What Ron did not expect was to find said man just sitting on the front steps of the house, staring emptily into the distance with a blank expression and slouched shoulders. For someone who was, quite frankly not particularly tall or big - Maverick often took up a lot of damn space. So much so it was easy to forget the inches he lacked in height, making up for it being loud and brash and seemingly larger than life. The kind to not let himself get hit by anything and even if he did, brushing it off like water off a duck's back. Hell, he had come out of a tragedy into a rescue with what, a week to spare?

(Impressive was the right word but Slider would be damned to say it.)

He stands there, at the corners of the fence, watching Mitchell for a moment longer. In his USNA threadbare shirt and running shorts, the man doesn't move for a good while, like he's bracing himself for something, drawing sharp breaths and then burying his face against the back of a knee.

Ron decides to step back, seems like a bad moment.

Then every moment after that seems like a bad moment.

Maybe because he had never tried to pay close attention to Pete until now or maybe because he had never had the chance, always surrounded by others and the very very least Ice was always there too. Maybe he had never really tried to read more than just their regular banter but in the following days, looking for a breach, Slider realizes just how stupidly vulnerable Maverick is. How he keeps fighting uphill to stand taller than everyone, how he keeps his chin up taking hit after hit both metaphorically and physically when it comes down to it.

Their stupid beach picnic date comes and goes without any kind of hiccup and Slider was still trying to find a way to put Mitchell against the wall but the more time went by, the less he actually felt like doing it. It felt wrong, like kicking someone who was already down and he can't quite put a finger on the why. Maverick was a damn runt, is what he was.

It's exactly a week after that, when Ron realizes why, despite all their bantering and picking and arguing and more often than not headbutting, he can't bring himself to be actually hard on Mitchell. Sure call him slow and overthinking, maybe he just liked to cover all of his bases before spurring into action but for once, it at least panned out when the lamp clicked over his head like a cartoon moment.

"Hey." He calls out to Ice, as they're back where they'd been a week ago but instead of lying flat on the couch, Slider is standing right in front of the desk, grabbing his pilot's paperwork to make him look up, serious intent behind it. Tom looks up with a puzzled and slow blink, putting the papers down. They'd always been on the same wavelength

"Hey, what's up?" Ice picked tone shifts easily, he'd learned how to read Slider like an open book and he was glad for it. It was why, and how, they worked so well together for so long. So he could read the very real seriousness on Ron's voice and the very real intensity behind his eyes, adjusting his posture to make sure Ron knew; he was listening.

"Be good to Mitchell." If anyone, ever, held Ron Kerner to those words, he'd probably deny it. Hell, he wasn't so sure he was even saying them but fuck it if he hadn't rehearsed it inside his head for a while now. Holding Ice's startled gaze with firmness, he held a rigid finger pointing at his pilot's chest. "Don't fuck this up, man. I know you're the best and all so I'm counting on you, don't make me kick your blondie ass, got it?"

Tom stared back, surprised and clearly speechless, a little bit like a startled fish with his mouth falling a little open; Ron wanted to backtrack because it felt weird.

But someone had to keep an eye out for Goose's runt, right?

[Send me a Top Gun / Top Gun: Maverick prompt for a ficlet!]

194 notes · View notes

favesgrave · 10 months

Text

since i am so normal i started up an earthspark warrior cats au and then my friends (hi friends @echoblaze5 @benadrylcandlewhack @velvety-vixen @badgerdigsbones @satellitedish38) brainstormed more ideas for it so big thanks to them. anyways here's the stuff under the cut:

okay so i'm still chipping away at actual plot but the current sort of story is that megatron (he's called stoneheart in this au and badger came up with that name so ty badger) led his own clan that was basically the decepticons and went to war with the autobot clan. at a certain point he has a bit of a change of heart and is like "so guys. maybe this fighting isn't worth it"

his warriors are understandably like "dude what the fuck do you mean. we've been fighting for YOU and now you're backing out. traitor" and he ends up getting chased out. optimus (who i havent thought of a name for yet) is like "oh you silly goose. if you want peace then come on over and live with us!!!"

it's. a big adjustment.

he goes from stonestar to stoneheart and literally no one but optimus trusts him because they used to be pretty tight

also this has no big impact on the plot but i thought it'd be cool if autoclan (that is NOT their actual name i am working on it!!!) lived in a cave on a mountain and decepticlan (again not their name) lived on an island in a lake to sort of resemble how things were in g1. you know with the ark in the mountain and the nemesis underwater. yeah you get it

ANYWAAAYSSS. decepticlan's a bit messy after they drove out stoneheart because they didn't really think that far ahead, it all just kind of happened. starscream (who i'm gonna call finchshriek for now) is like "guys i'm the deputy so duh i'm the leader"

back in autoclan barn cats dot and alex join with their apprentice-aged kits robby and mo!!! most of the humans r probably kittypets (suggested by echo) but the maltos are barn cats and they r small enough to lay on fluffy ears

everyone loves fluffy ears

eventually dot and alex have two more kits, twitchkit and thrashkit! because yeah if we can have kits with the prefix "flip" then they can keep their names

stoneheart's been a warrior in autoclan for a while now and optimus is like "hey. hey watch this" and makes him twitchpaw's mentor when the time comes

okay pretty much everyone was talking about this (except me cuz i was drawing) but miko is a hardcore kittypet with a spiked collar and her owners put pink streaks in her fur. she follows bulkhead around a lot and talks his ear off. and we came to the conclusion that bulkhead is also a valid warrior name!!!!

also elita is the deputy of autoclan. i might name her something like rosethorn

twitchpaw and thrashpaw's warrior names r twitchflight and thrashkick

nightshade, jawbreaker, and hashtag also exist. nightshade already has a warrior name so that one was easy. jawbreaker might be called something like boulderjaw (or who knows might just say fuck it and keep jawbreaker) and for hashtag, we settled on the prefix "flash"

jawbreaker's mentor is gonna be grimlock. hashtag's will be rosethorn

i just thought of this while typing but i think the dinobots could all just be a random litter of kits wheeljack found abandoned in the wounds and he'd adopt them

speaking of wheeljack!!! he is missing an ear and has a bobtail because velvet said so and is absolutely correct. that's kinda it for him for now

bumblebee is called beestrike!!! as an apprentice he was friends with breakdown (who i might call blueleap or blueskip cuz he's got a fearless attitude or whatever) and they'd meet up at gatherings and sometimes in secret by sneaking out of their camps. ben was like "bee could be like how graystripe was whenever he saw silverstream and make little cat biscuits" and yeah that's pretty much him. once the war breaks out their friendship becomes strained and even when there's peace, it's gonna be a little awkward at first

i dont know if i'd bring knockout into the au but he was easy to think of. he's decepticlan's medcat and is named scarletshine

this was probably unintelligible but i had to make the post somewhere

34 notes · View notes

gilbirda · 2 years

Note

Hello again! I've actually written the down some of my "Jason and the Spraypaint 'Thief'" idea tho its mostly scaffolding and i dont feel ready to share it just yet, but progress is being made!

If I may ask for your advice once more, the story has begun leaning towards Anger Management vibes (thanks for that brainrot too (affectionate)), but i dont feel great that the genesis of Jason and Jazz meeting is after Jason basically stalks Jazz in his hunt for whoever is buying his spraypaint before he can. Like, she is the one buying the paint, but the dynamic feels too onesided atm in terms of agency, but idk what Jazz would be doing that could parallel Jason.

The best Ive got is she tried to find out who bought out the yarn she was knitting with (it was Jason being petty), but I dont think she'd care as much as Jason does with the paint and it also feels too samey.

...Just had this thought while writing this, would it vibe with Jazz's character if she kept tabs on the Batfam for Danny? Like in terms of location. Ive got it that Danny dosnt want anything to do with the Batfam atm, Gothem is their turf fighting-wise and he dosnt want to encroach on that (tho he does help people in need when he comes across them), he just wants to make cool art in weird places (and maybe some ghost king stuff, not sure on that just yet) (maybe as a coping mechanism bc I do like the angst that comes from 'Danny leaves Amity bc the Fentons reactly badly to him being a halfa', tho still not sure how he gets into spraypaint yet, that feels like an important detail), so Jazz keeps tabs on their patrols for Danny so he can spraypaint without drawing their attention, and then Jazz notices Red Hood acting a bit odd and does her own investigating to make sure its not ghost business (she would know that RH has ghost vibes from Danny and his current spraypaint investigating behaviour maybe looks like a ghost obsession without context), and maybe she ends up pulling a Tim and figures out Red Hood is Jason, just due to ghost vibes instead of acrobatics.

I havent even gotten to them actually meeting in my planning yey, its just discovery eachother from afar and general thoughts of 'thats the person Im looking for, they're kinda cute' so far. Current vauge idea is they meet in a fight, tho i might be biased bc i did recently reread 'cant help falling (in love with you)' (i think i said this before, but amazing story btw, eagerly waiting for the next chapter!)

I hope this makes sense. This is the first time I've had an idea I've wanted to share with other fandom people and felt comfy enough to do so.

(your ask got sent twice so im gonna answer one and delete the other. Just Tumblr things I guess)

I see Anger Management and go feral

I see what you mean about there being a power imbalance in their meeting situation - but we have to be aware that the source material is like that. Jason is a crime fighter and a vigilante and also a very extra boy. He is petty and arrogant and sometimes he is not above using his skills for personal use.

You can make it so she knows what's going on and leads him in a wild goose chase just for funsies. Make Jazz petty as well. Make her highly competent. Make her win in his own game and boom, no more power imbalance. (Also that can be a cool "I need to know more of this woman" kind of situation.)

Another alternative, is making her think he is stalking her for unsavory purposes and beat the shit out of him.

I like what you said about Jazz being the one that keep tabs on all the vigilantes. She could have profiled them all, studied their patterns, and Tim Drake her way into memorizing their patrol routes so Danny can paint in peace.

So that's why when her new stalker starts bothering her, she is so Done(tm) that she is not afraid to gatekeep, gaslight, girlboss her way into making him stop.

How she does it? Dealer's choice.

(I'm weak to the fight approach, if it wasn't obvious (✿◡‿◡) )

(But outsmarting him could work as well.)

(Jason is into women that can kick his ass, be it physically or in smarts)

So in conclusion I think if you want to not fall into icky power imbalances and not fall into highly competent Mary Sues tropes, the sweet spot would be Jazz making the choice to take act or not, and base it on actual conflict: If she can't just beat the shit out of him, explain why. If she is not going to make a deal out of it, explain why. Make the character have agency and a choice in the matter, even if that choice is inaction.

Thank you for showing me your progress!!!! I'm so happy when people make content for the crossover and my favorite ship!!!

Also thanks for reading my fics!

🤗💖

#gil answers #awsome-space-dragon #anger management ship #dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp

94 notes · View notes

rosesradio · 1 year

Text

being a silly goose & i wrote a lawrusso drabble i guess--tw for mentions of harassment & implied trauma from silver

word count: 400

Johnny's hand is on his arm, but Daniel still looks distant. His eyes are glassy, breathing shallow. He's looking in the direction of those guys, but they'd been escorted out minutes earlier. Those assholes had been harassing girls all night, stir-crazy under the flashing lights and pumping bass--Johnny was familiar with the routine in high school. Daniel had looked at them almost longingly, like he'd wanted to step in; the Daniel Johnny knew would step in. It had only been a year since graduation, what changed?

Soon after, one of them had caught Daniel looking and rounded on him, jeering and egging him on. Johnny had tried to warn them to fuck off, but as soon as one of them had grabbed Daniel, security had come through to put a stop to it. Of course, Daniel's Little Guy Privilege--a privilege no amount of money in Encino could buy--bought his way into the guys getting kicked out. But that didn't seem to make Daniel feel better. He still stared, his breathing shallow, and Johnny could bet his heart was racing like a rabbit.

"Come on, Larusso," Johnny says, hand on Daniel's arm. Daniel tenses only slightly, but soon relaxes--as if his body forgot it was Johnny. Just Johnny. "We can still have fun here, right?"

"I...shouldn't have fought back," Daniel said, his voice a million miles away.

"What do you mean?" Johnny asked. "You hardly did anything--security took those assholes out."

Daniel nodded, eyes squinting and brows furrowed in the sense that he wasn't quite registering what Johnny was saying. "I didn't want to cause anyone trouble...or get anyone hurt...or ruin their fun..."

Ruin their fun? Now Johnny was the confused one. "Well, I'm perfectly fine with ruining their fun, 'cause they were gonna hurt you anyway. Why wouldn't you wanna fight back? You did so no problem in high school.”

Daniel finally met Johnny's eyes then, and when he did, Johnny's stomach sank. He felt a stab through his heart--this was not the same Daniel he'd known in high school. He still had the same charismatic, somewhat annoying nature, but he was also...different, somehow. Once, Ali had been reading a book for her literature class--a girl had been subdued by her placement in historical society, or whatever. Daniel was like that--reserved, distant, subdued.

And Johnny was going to find a way to draw him out again.

#lawrusso #daniel larusso #johnny lawrence #kk3 #my fic

14 notes · View notes

crinkled-emotions · 1 year

Note

OK so the hoodie content has gotten its hooks in me🥰😍

First of all Ouch😭

But also Mav deffo has some other older ones. Imagine him giving one to B when he's a having a really bad time; hurt, nightmares, sick whatever. Like obviously in an attempt to comfort him, but it just makes him remember and he gets all emotional and even more upset 😭

#Bradley needs a hug everyone!

Okay look, I was just gonna reply with lmao mood or something adjacent but then a lil plot bunny smacked me in the face with it's cute lil tail and I went okay yeah sure I'm gonna write a drabble!

(this does mention Dee, but Rooster and Mav are probably the main characters here. I should also mention that while I am going to cover Bradley's anxiety in the Fixin' to Break verse, this drabble is not linked so much as I'm just borrowing the characters for a sec)

(I'll put them back I swear)

(This made me miss my dad and I literally saw him three days ago)

"I came as soon as I could; it sounded serious- oof!"

Maverick caught Dee when she threw herself into his arms, sniffling as she tried to stop crying.

"Hey, hey; what's wrong? Is it the kids?"

Maverick carefully hugged her back, glancing over his shoulder to see if he could spot the three of them running around. James was asleep in the playpen on the floor, but the two girls were nowhere to be seen.

"It's your kid," Dee whispered hoarsely, sleeve to her face as she tried to wipe the tears threatening to fall. Maverick's eyes widened for a moment, cleared his throat, and then he gestured towards the hallway.

"Is he still in bed?"

"He said his stomach hurts but I'm not buying it."

"Dee?"

Dee shrugged, glancing wistfully over her shoulder toward the stairs leading to their master bedroom suite.

"He's been off the last couple days. He just says he's tired but it's more than that. Feels more like building anxiety. Something's wrong, Mav..."

Maverick frowned for a moment, and then he looked to Dee.

"What's the date?"

"Uhhhh... February 7th- oh, fuck."

Dee and Maverick moved, darting up the stairs together. Dee gently knocked on the bedroom door, poking her head into their room.

"B, you awake? Someone's here for you."

Rooster glanced up from his pillow, putting his phone back on his bedside table.

"Who is it?"

"Hey, kid."

"Mav."

Bradley pulled himself to sit up, drawing his knees to his chest. Dee glanced at the two, and then cleared her throat.

"I'll give you two a minute. Roos, when you're ready, come downstairs and we'll talk."

Rooster nodded, eyes on Maverick the whole time. When the door closed behind Dee, Maverick moved to the bed and sat on the edge.

"I miss her too, kid," he said softly. Bradley sniffed, gaze moving to his knees that he'd drawn to his chest.

"It's not just that. I- I can't hear dad's voice like I used to, and- and sometimes I go to pull that old hoodie out of my closet but then I remember I tore it years ago and I had to throw it out, and that was my last connection to them."

Maverick frowned, running his hand up and down his back.

"That's not your only connection, Roos. I'm connected to them too, and I still remember what your dad's voice sounds like."

Bradley frantically looked away, fighting the tears, so Maverick nudged his leg.

"It's okay to miss them, B, and it's okay to feel like you might be losing them. I'll be here to remind you."

He let out a gasping sob, and Maverick pulled him into a hug.

"Alright, kid, okay," Maverick soothed. While Rooster let out gut-wrenching sobs into his shoulder, he reached for his phone to text Dee. He knew exactly what Rooster needed but he'd need her help to get it.

Dee carefully crept into the room, running a hand through her husband's hair and smiling at Maverick.

"Looks like you got through to him."

"Ah, not quite. Did you grab the stuff?"

"I did. Here."

Maverick reached for the jumper, inhaling the scent a little himself. It still had Goose on it, even after nearly thirty-nine years. He carefully pointed the spray of the cologne away from his sleeping godson, lightly covering the fabric in the cologne before tucking it into Bradley's arms. Dee put a hand on Maverick's back.

"I can't thank you enough, I- I was really worried about him."

Maverick nodded up at her, watching Rooster circle his arms around the hoodie.

"I was worried about him too," he confessed. Dee watched them for a minute, sighing.

"I'm just glad he has you. I can't pretend to understand what he's going through, losing both his parents so young-"

"-you don't have to understand it, Dee. Just... be there for him. That's what he needs, more than anything."

#Top Gun: Maverick #Top Gun Maverick #TGM #Bradley Rooster Bradshaw #Bradley Bradshaw #Rooster #Callsign: Rooster #Pete Maverick Mitchell #Pete Mitchell #Maverick #Callsign: Maverick #hurt/comfort #fixin to break verse

8 notes · View notes

katsukikitten · 3 years

Text

A harem collab in which we go to a party with our v precious hero 18+ Smut boooiiii

Sitting across from him never did get easier. As much as you told yourself it would.

If anything it got harder and harder to share the same room as him, let alone air.

But you were lucky enough, or unlucky enough, to join the agency when you did and to be partnered with your big time crush FatGum. Although you idolized him you were sure he didn't remember you.

And how could he? He saved countless people a day so it should be no surprise that he had no idea who you were on your first day. Still, it stung.

And it shouldn't still sting or come to a surprise when he sets down a flyer on your desk. A huge smile on his chubby cheeks as he taps the sheet of paper.

"Can you believe it?! The agency is throwing a new year's eve party!" He practically gushes, lingering by your desk with his intoxicating smile. He rummages in his brown bag, setting breakfast onto your desk careful to avoid getting grease stains on the flyer as if you'd hang it up one day instead of shoving it into the trash.

"They have one every year." You shrug, thanking him for the breakfast but tossing the paper into the trash can. His smile never waivers as he pulls it from the fresh bin, returning it to the smooth wooden top.

"Yea but not at a fancy hotel and never an open bar! We should go!" His eyes crinkle in the corners and your heart hammers in your chest.

Little do you know he prays to the Gods you don't say no.

"I dont know, it's such short notice. Like next week ain't it?." At least it wasn't a no. He smiles, thinking of your competative behavior.

"Oh I see what it is." He takes the sheet from your desk, waltzing to his own, "You're scared."

"Tch, scared of what?" You hiss, snatching for the paper.

"Scared I'll out drink you!" He laughs at your cute scowl as you size him up. His metabolism was insane, and with him being in his larger state you might not be able to win.

But he didn't have to know that.

"You fucking wish you could out drink me! Remember the last party we went to? You showed your age and could barely stand!"

"Oi! I was much thinner then. I think luck is on my side this time." He slaps his belly and you smile. A genuine laugh fills the room causing Taishiro's heart to clench.

"Yea, yea." You wipe away a tear, "We'll see."

The day drags on and on, turning into a week of you glancing his way. Making sure he wasn't gaining any extra weight as he brought you your normal breakfast daily.

It wasn't until the day of the party did you gain the advantage, a fight almost turned wrong and Taishiro had to use majority of that stored fat for a deadly punch to stop the villain from terrorizing the city.

Still you'd never want this type of advantage just for a stupid drinking contest. Although he was not at his largest, he still had a considerable "dad bod" going on.

"I still can't believe they had a tux in this size so late!" Taishiro shouts into the locker room at the agency, adjusting his tie as he waits for you. Meanwhile nerves eat you alive as you stare into your reflection, wondering if this dress fit okay, smoothing the fabric over your stomach self consciously.

"You okay in there? We're gonna be late." He calls softly, hoping you aren't having second thoughts about going with someone like him.

"Coming!" You call back, glancing at your deep amber dress a final time before rushing into the hall.

"I was just thinking you were going to forfeit and then I-" Words die in his throat and he drinks you in. Beautifully complimented by the shape and color of your dress as he mouth hangs agape.

"Wow. You look…"

"Tai, I know, I look...different."

"Amazing, perfect, breathtaking." He gives you a pointed look, "Which is no different than how you normally look."

Heat creeps up the back of your neck and you're thankful he misses your flustered expression. The walk to the hotel and the brisk cold air gives you time to not only cool off but think.

Really reflect on the year, this horribly rotten, all bad luck year. Reminding you of all the times you had failed but also reminding you of all the opportunities you had missed. And not opportunities in the sense of promotions or saving people but opportunities to get closer with a certain somebody.

You glance up at him and he glances down at you, smiling in a way that sets your skin on fire and yet it makes you feel at ease.

Slowly you were coming to hate it.

"I'm excited that they decided to invite some smaller agencies. Means I can introduce you to some of the kids I interned. Well I guess they are adults now huh." He looks nostalgic, sad even as he stares into space. Opening the door to the large hotel and it the look sticks with him until he is just before the party doors.

"Ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." You huff as he places his hand on the small of your back, bringing you into the rented ballroom. Lights and sounds consume your sense as music dances around light conversation. You're beginning to wonder if a drinking contest was such a good idea that is before you see the CEO of your agency totally shit faced. You glanced down at your watch, it was only 8pm.

Taishiro guides you around the room with a "starter" drink, introducing you to old and new faces. Beaming with pride as he introduces you as his partner and not his sidekick like other heroes had done in the past. You hated how much your heart raced.

"And this is Kirishima! He was one of my best and most memorable! Kids got guts and heart in spades!" He slaps Kirishima on the back and the young man slumps forward with a sharp toothed smile.

"Aw come on, I wasn't that great…" He scratches the back of his head.

"I heard that's when you became 'unbreakable'! I think that's so cool!" You gush over the young hero complimenting him to no end.

"Stop. You'll give me a big head." He smiles, blushing furiously before his eyes wander to the closeness of the two of you and then they settle on your drinks, "You're not trying to out drink the infamous FatGum are you?"

You laugh loudly before leaning in close as if to share a secret.

"Oh, yes and I plan to kick his ass."

Kirishima returns your smile and stage whispers

"Taishiro-sama has lost a good bit of weight. I believe in you!" He winks before someone across the room calls for him, "Call me when you get really started!!"

Two hours pass and you find yourself sitting across from your partner with his sleeves rolled up. Showcasing those deadly forearms as he slams back another shot. Kirishima keeps tally on hotel stationary and announces the number of shots.

"You'll have to take five to be in the lead! You'll have two minutes to decide to forfeit or-" But before he can finish you're grabbing for one of the prefilled shot glasses.

"Kanpai!" You shout, slinging them down, ignoring how the room is spinning and how bright the light reflects off of the table full of empty shot glasses.

Kirishima's eyes widen as you down an extra shot for good measure, tallying the booze count with worry.

"Fat hero." He says, almost gritting his teeth, "You'll have to take seven to be in the lead."

The large hero leans on his forearms on the table, the alcohol he's had had mostly been processed and maybe your figured that out. That he was starting to lose his edge so he takes you up on the challenge knocking back the several shots as if they were water. You're eager to gulp down a few more praying it drowns out your feelings for the sexy man across from you, instead he lets his broad hand hover over the shot glasses. Silently giving you a reprieve and noticing just how much you're sweating, how blown your pupils are.

"Let's give it a minute shall we?" He smiles as you drown in his golden eyes. Biting at your lower lip and with a defiant grip you swallow down a final shot.

"Your turn." You focus hard to make sure your words didn't slur, not wanting this feeling or night to end. He snorts, shaking his head wishing you acted out any other time than this.

"I forfeit." He places his hands up and you glare at him as you wonder if he did it on purpose. Before you have the time to accuse the crowd erupts into a deafening cheer, the room lags as you try to place names with faces as they come close to congratulate you. As more and more people crowd you, the hotter the room feels. Politely you excuse yourself to an enclave balcony closing the doors tightly behind you as you gulp down air, desperate to cool off and douse the desire that burns hot in your belly seeping to your core.

"Fuck." You rake your nails through your hair as a hit of icy air skates along your skin leaving goose flesh in its wake. A steady warmth comes from behind you, voice deep as he speaks softly. You can tell he's using the same tone he uses on victims, trying not to startle them with his size.

Little did he know how much you loved how much bigger he was. A safe haven, protection embodied.

"Ready to go home?"

"No I'm fine! Perfectly fine." He sucks his teeth at your stubborn reply, leaning in close with his hands in the pockets of his tux.

"You look flushed...you seem out of it."

"I'm totally of sound mind!" A bark to which he laughs, giving in to the liquid courage as his large hand tilts your chin towards him. Flirting with a line he swore he'd never cross.

"Yea, if you're so sound of mind, would you let me do this?" He asks, leaning closer, lips almost brushing yours. Your breath mingles with his in little puffs of fog agaisnt the cool air and suddenly you're burning again.

From the inside out.

His lips touch yours, gently, passive at first and if he's trying to fight against his urges. Slowly he breaks away, amber eyes glued to your mouth before he sighs. Hoping he didn't just fuck everything up.

In an instant you're drawing him back to you, hands in his golden wheat hair and your fingers weave through the strands. Mouth opening and demanding more as his large hands grip onto your ribcage as if you'd float away.

And maybe you would, you felt like you could.

Frantically your hands demand more, exploring up his shirt, touching across his stomach and digging your nails down his back. His own hands follow suit, gripping at your ass and tits, memorizing every luscious curve until he is drunk off of you and you only. You moan into his mouth and with that he loses all restraint.

Shoving you against the harsh brick building, fisting your hair to tilt your head for better access, exploring your mouth with his well skilled wet muscle. Hands trailing beneath your dress to find your dress, squeezing at your thick thighs and when you moan in approval he moves higher and higher still until his fingers brush against the damp fabric. This time it is his turn to groan as he presses his hardened cock against you, your hips move to grind against his large fingers.

"Please Tai" It is soft, breathy, sending him into a frenzy as he gives you exactly what you want. Letting his fingers slip beneath the fabric to gather the slick between your folds, gently rubbing against your throbbing clit. You arch against his touch, exposing your neck to him, he leans over and bites. Placing kisses along your throat, making sure to be careful enough to avoid marks before his hazed brain causes him to speak.

To confess.

"Do you know how long I've wanted to do this?" He asks, plunging his fingers into your tight heat, stretching you as you mewl, "Ever since I first laid eyes on you. Kamisama you were perfect. And tonight. Fuck baby. Wearing my eye color for all to see. You want people to think you're mine?"

"Yes, Taishiro. I want people to think I'm yours." You moan, fucking yourself on his fingers before he takes over. Setting a quick pace before he curls his thick fingers just right, in an instant you're creaming against his digits. Crying out as he overstimulates you before he covers your mouth with his broad hand, reminding you just how much he dwarfs you.

It makes you cum again and again and he corners you against the wall. Cock twitching as he laps up your sinful faces with a gluttonous appetite.

"Please Tai, pleeeasse."

"What's wrong baby? My fingers not enough?" His cocky tone drives you mad and your hips buck against his touch before he withdraws from your heat. Panting he levels his gaze yo you.

"Is this what you want?" Peppering you with kisses as if you could deny him and his godly hands.

"Don't make me beg Tai…" You rasp, he gives a devilish smile.

"Then I won't." His hands slink up your dress, gathering it at your waist as on skillful finger pulls the overly damp underwear away from your soaking sex. He frees himself and you swallow, not realizing just how large he was, for a moment you worry you won't be able to take him.

"I'll be gentle." He coos, easing himself in an inch at a time as your stretch around his thick cock. Pussy fluttering as it adjusts to his size, he gathers your legs to his sides, squeezing your hips to keep from rutting into you roughly. He pistons his hips slowly, watching your face contort as he angles himself just right. Sensual thrusts have your legs and pussy squeezing him so deliciously tight. Still he worries he's going to hurt you.

"You okay?" Alcohol lingers on his breath and you swallow him whole with a kiss. Moaning into his mouth softly as he rocks you into one of your most intense orgasms to date. It's a slow build, undeniably intoxicating as his steady pace hits your spongy soft spot and his pelvis rubs against your clit. The coil in your stomach snaps and your body clamps onto the behemoth of a man tightly, stars dot your vision as he continues to fuck you through it.

"God you're so beautiful ya know? So responsive to my touch. Taking me so well baby." He purrs against your ear, "Makes me want to keep this pace all night."

He keeps true to his promise, bringing you to new heights at the steadiest of paces, causing you to lose count of how many times you've cum on his length. Pussy attempting to milk him dry as he palm swallows your screams. He looks at your features, your makeup running from delirious tears, mouth fallen opened in a propetial O as your hair clings to your skin.

"Kamisama you're like art." He kisses your quickened pulse, "Ready for me to fill you love? You're squeezing me so tight…"

He groans and all you can think of his him and the searing pleasure that courses through your veins to settle in your over sensitive heat. His cock twitches and you want nothing more than to be stuffed full of the Fat Hero's fat cock and his cum. But words are lost in your hoarse throat and all you can do is nod, moaning his name as if it were a prayer. It's all the encouragement he needs, quickening his pace as the crowd inside grows louder. Counting down from 10.

It's all lost to you and his hips snap against you, the brick scraping against your shoulders as his grip on you becomes so tight you're sure you'll bruise. Your body hyper aware of every little sensation as you drown in pleasure and warm amber sun, he groans, painting your walls in hot ropes of cum, your vision spots as your body arches to meet him as your spams a final time while his lips crash to yours.

All the while fireworks erupt over head, bringing in the new year on a literal high note.

He huffs, sweating as he looks at you, still buried to the hilt. Swiping his thumb over your cheek and running mascara before he breathes out so gently.

"Happy new year baby."

#fat gum x reader #fatgum x reader #fatgum smut #bnha x reader #bnha nye event

589 notes · View notes

maladaptive---daydreamer · 4 years

Text

Black ribbon and silver bows

The fifth of may meant that there were exactly 2 months until Draco turned 17. Draco had gone above and beyond for your birthday, spoiling you with 17 individually wrapped gifts that he sent you on a wild goose chase around the school to find. You wanted to make him equally as special as he made you feel, but what did you get the boy who could get anything he wanted?

You thought about getting him a pet, but you didn’t think his mother would appreciate a cat roaming around the halls of the Malfoy Manor. Then you thought about getting him a broom, but as usual, Draco already had the best of the best. Your mind turned to clothes, but the man only wore black shirts with tailor-made trousers.

“Still thinking about what to get Draco?” Blaise’s voice asked, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Ugh yes, anything I think of, he already has”

“You’re fault for choosing rich, should have dated a Weasley, they’d be over the moon with an unworn robe”

You smacked Blaise’s arm “Don’t be so rude, Blaise. Just because you don’t like them doesn't mean you can be a prick”

“Why don’t you make him something? I’m sure the elves would let you sneak into the kitchen to cook, you could draw something, write him a poem”

If you were a cat, your ears would have pricked at hearing the word ‘draw’, Draco was never a fan of the decorations in his room, maybe you could paint him a painting that he could hang up on his wall.

“You might have just saved Draco’s birthday”

The increase of chatter across the library hinted that your free period was over and it was now time for lunch. You and Blaise collected your things and returned the books to the returns trolley before making your way to the great hall. You bumped into Draco, Pansy and Daphne on your way there. The five of you made your way to the Slytherin table to see Crabbe and Goyle already tucking in.

“Why am I not surprised that you two gluttons are the first on the table?” Blaise asked, throwing his school bag down and taking a seat.

The rest of your group sat down as well, the elves had made different variations of chicken wraps for lunch today. You picked up a grilled chicken wrap and began eating it, famished after your hour of revision during your free period. You had just finished the first one when Draco said your name.

“You’ve got sauce on your mouth, darling”

You stuck your tongue out trying to lick it off but you kept missing.

“Hold still a sec” Draco instructed. He used his thumb to wipe the spot of sauce from your mouth, licking it off his thumb once he was done.

“Ah my saviour!” you fake swooned.

He laughed and continued to eat his lunch. You wolfed another half of a wrap before feeling full.

“Are we still revising for charms after dinner?” Daphne asked, looking up from her homework.

“I’m on it, but the boys have quidditch practise until 7, so they’ll have to join in later” You replied, snapping the lid of your lip balm back on

“Actually, practice is cancelled, so Blaise and I’ll be there” Draco added, downing the rest of his pumpkin juice.

“Y/N, you alright?”

Your head whipped around to see Neville Longbottom standing behind you.

“Are you lo-” Draco began to sneer

You pinched the outside of his thigh making him grit his teeth instead of finishing his sentence. “Neville, hi”

“I just wanted to return your charms notes, they were dead useful, thanks,” He said with a light blush, holding your pile of notes out.

“Oh, thank you. I’m so glad you found them helpful” You took the notes from him with a smile.

“Have a nice rest of the afternoon,”

“You too Neville,”

He returned to his friends and your friends turned onto you.

“Why are you so nice to him?” Blaise demanded.

“Oh merlin, when are you guys going to get over this rivalry, he needed help, so I helped him.”

“He’s also Longbottom”

You rolled your eyes. “Anyways, does anyone want to let me copy the last two questions for the dada homework?”

Daphne slid her roll of parchment over to you and you quickly scribbled the answers. Just as you had screwed on the cap for your ink lid, the bell for your next lesson rang. Nowadays your lessons were less structured, it was two months before exam season which meant the teachers pushed to revise topics rather than introducing new ones. Some teachers preferred to let you get on in groups doing your own thing, others had a strict revision lesson planned. But one thing was for certain exams had definitely taken over your life.

After your charms revision session with your friends, you and Draco found yourselves walking up to the astronomy tower. The sun was beginning to set as you nestled yourself into his lap.

“Don’t you think it’s mad that in a couple of years we won’t be able to do this anymore?” You asked, tightening his arms around you.

“We can watch the sunset from anywhere love”

“Ha ha you know what I mean idiot”

“I’m ready to leave this place”

“Sorry Mr ‘I should have been in Durmstrang’”

“I should have, my father agreed more with their curriculum”

“Maybe cause his old death eater buddy was running it”

“He’s your father's old death eater buddy too”

“My father never thought about sending me to Durmstrang”

“That’s because it’s a boys-only school, love”

“I don’t like you”

“That’s because you love me,”

“Speaking of love, do you remember the first moment you realised you loved me?”

He paused “As a matter of fact I do”

“Do tell, Mr Malfoy”

“We were at that party at the Parkinson’s in our 3rd year. You had a silver dress on. Your mum forced you into these heels and you hated them. You wobbled over to me and clung to my arm the whole night. But as soon as we were shooed away from the adults, you took them off and practically shoved them into my hands and started walking around barefoot. Pansy’s grandmother came out of the parlour and saw you without your shoes on and went berserk, she called you a disgrace, all our mothers came out to see what was going on and I’m pretty sure your mum looked like she was going to kill you”

“I remember that! Then I transfigured her ostrich feather boa into a snake around her neck!”

“She nearly pissed her pants” He laughed, causing you to smile.

“So is that your favourite memory of us?”

“No, my favourite memory takes place in our 4th year at the Yule ball. I didn’t want to dance in front of all those idiots but you pulled me up there anyway. But as soon as you held my hand it was like they all disappeared and it was just me and you. I spun you out and when you spun back into my arms, I dipped you and you looked so beautiful. But that is fighting for the top spot from the time you sucked me off in the restricted section, and the time you floo’ed into my room last summer at 2 am and I absolutely ruined you”

“Okay okay I get the picture your favourite memories are when we have sex”

“Not all of them, just some, what’s yours?”

“5th year, Christmas break, your parents’ Christmas party, you hid my promise ring inside my dessert” you held your hand up letting your ring sparkle in the candlelight, it was simple, a small princess cut emerald on a gold band, but it was oh so precious “You kept staring at me and I was so confused, I wasn’t even looking at what I was eating until you jerked my hand back and told me to look in the spoon and there it was. You cleaned it off and slid it on my finger right in front of everyone. Or maybe it was the time you made me sit on your face when we snuck into a room at the leaky cauldron”

Draco laughed and lifted your hand up and played with the ring. “After we finish Hogwarts, I’m gonna replace this ring with a diamond one”

“You are?”

“Why do you sound so surprised, I told you already I was going to change your last name to mine, even your parents know”

“I know but I didn’t know you wanted to do this so early"

“Of course I do, why wouldn’t I?”

“You are so whipped”

Draco shoved you off him playfully.

“But it’s okay because I’m equally as whipped” you replied sitting back in his lap.

“You’d better be, otherwise I’d-”

“You’d what? Tell your father?”

“Right, that’s it” His fingers found your sides as he began tickling you. By the time he felt as though he tortured you enough, you were both breathless.

“I love you," He said, smoothing your shirt down.

“I love you more”

“Who’s up here?” Filch’s voice grumbled.

You and Draco grinned at each other as you quickly threw your robes on and lifted the hoods, running straight past Filch and into the Slytherin common room.

You had now learnt what Draco’s favourite memory of you was. All that was left was actually getting around to paint it. If you weren’t in a lesson, you were revising, usually most of the time with Draco. Even on weekends, you found yourself in in the library completing practise exam papers and testing yourself on flashcards. And any time you weren’t working, you and Draco used as an opportunity to spend time with one another without being bogged down with work. You’d already decided that the room of requirement would be the perfect place to start painting, but the issue was figuring out how you’d be able to sneak there and back without arousing suspicion.

After much deliberation, you decided that your best option for sneaking out was on Tuesday and Wednesday nights. Every Tuesday after dinner, Draco and Blaise would go out to the quidditch pitch to blow off some steam, by the time he had finished and showered, you were almost always already in bed. On Wednesday, you decided you’d tell Draco a little white lie and say that Flitwick had asked you to tutor a struggling 5th year in Charms, it would give you a few hours to yourself to get ahead with painting.

The upcoming Tuesday your plan was in action, you made Daphne swear she wouldn’t tell Draco where you were and you made your way to the room of requirement. It was honestly a Godsend. You stepped into a room full of different sized canvasses, there were tubes of oil paint and palettes of watercolours and squeezy bottles of acrylic. A table was full of paintbrushes of different sizes and shapes and there were an easel and chair right in the middle of the room.

You picked out a large rectangular canvas and placed it landscape on the easel and got to sketching the outline of your painting. If all went to plan, it would be a loop of Draco’s favourite memory of the two of you at the ball, if it didn’t well, then it would be a still image and if everything went south, you’d have to somehow find a way to get some lingerie to distract him from your lack of presents.

Painting the canvas was going to be the hard part, sketching the outline, however, was proving to be a huge nightmare already, you had drawn and redrawn Draco’s face about a hundred times, not being able to get it exactly right. You were about to kick a hole in your canvas when a small a5 picture caught your eye, stuck under the foot of the easel. You picked it up to see a photograph of the exact moment you were trying to recreate. This was why you loved this room, taking a deep breath, you redrew Draco’s face finally getting it as you liked it. By the time you had finished the full outline, it was almost two am, you knew you were going to struggle to wake up in the morning, but that was something for future you to deal with, present you had to find a way to sneak out of the room and back to your dormitory without detection.

In order to make as little noise as possible, you took your shoes off and ran across the castle in just your socks, you were only a few steps away from the entrance to the common room before Mrs Norris came around the corner. She meowed loudly as you whisper-shouted the password, the corridor revealing itself. You ran down it and straight up the stairs into your dormitory. You tried to get into bed as quietly as possible before falling asleep.

In hindsight, staying up sketching until 2 am was a horrible idea. It was only 1 in the afternoon and you were struggling to stay awake.

“I don’t get why you don’t just pay someone to paint it for you,” Daphne asked, scrunching a piece of paper into a ball and throwing it in the bin beside you.

“Because then there's no sentimental value behind it” You replied, massaging your temples.

“What time did you fall asleep anyway?”

“By the time I drowned out Pansy’s snoring it was 3, I was just lucky I had a free period first so I ended up getting an hours extra sleep”

“Merlin, remind me to never fall in love”

You laughed before rubbing your eyes and returning to your work.

It took you four weeks of staying up till 2 am to finish Draco’s painting. You had spent hours mixing the right shades of paint, at one point you ended up getting rid of the paint on the whole canvas and starting again but exactly three weeks before Draco’s birthday, you had mastered the spell to make your painted figures move and your masterpiece was complete. Your only worry was that Narcissa Malfoy would hate it and would stop her son from hanging it in his bedroom.

In order to get the huge canvas from the room of requirement back to your dormitory, you had to ask Neville to ask Harry if you could borrow his invisibility cloak. If Draco had found out that you got Harry’s help you were 90% sure he’d be the one kicking a hole in your canvas. For now, the canvas was safely tucked under your bed.

The next morning, you stuffed Harry’s cloak in your bag and made your way down to meet him. You had agreed the previous evening that you’d meet outside Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom before breakfast to make the exchange. As planned, he was stood with Neville right outside the entrance to the toilet. You pulled the cloak out and handed it back to Harry.

“Thank you, I know you and Draco don’t like each other, but it means a lot that you'd go out on a limb to help me.”

“While I question your choice in men, Y/L/N, you’ve helped Neville out on more than one occasion and any friend of Neville’s is a friend of mine.”

You smiled at Harry, “I’m gonna head to breakfast before Draco gets suspicious, see you boys, later”

They waved goodbye as you made your way back to breakfast, stopping in the normal girl's toilet to sort your shirt out which you found you were wearing inside out. Your group of friends were already sat down eating, all but Draco.

“Where is he?” You asked.

“Couple third years said they had to tell him something in private, oh wait, speak of the devil”

You turned and he did not look happy. His jaw was clenched and he was walking oddly fast, he came to you and gripped you firmly by the arm. “Can I speak to you, outside, Y/N”

You looked at him confused but followed him out. As soon as you were out of earshot from the hall he turned around to face you, he looked pissed, he kept walking forward until you were pinned between him and the wall.

“You want to tell me why some friends in 3rd year saw you giving Potter his invisibility cloak back?”

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, darling, we both know you’re not. ‘it looked like she was holding something but there wasn't anything in her hand’. Why did you have his cloak”

“I was planning on recreating that memory of yours in the restricted section for your birthday, I asked Neville if I could borrow Harry’s cloak to get us there and back but then I remembered you wouldn’t have come if we were using his cloak so I gave it back” You lied smoothly

He swallowed and nodded, not moving back. You pushed him off and scoffed.

“Is this what you’re doing now? Sending third years to follow me?”

“You of all people should know I have eyes and ears everywhere.”

“Those eyes and ears shouldn't be snooping on your girlfriend”

“They wouldn’t have to if you weren’t lying to me about where you were for the past month.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Helping a 5th year with Charms as per the request of Flitwick? Well not according to the professor himself”

“Dra-”

He laughed, “Can’t even cover up your lies properly. Why don't I give you a few hours to come up with a cover story, I can’t bear the sight of you right now” Draco turned and walked away, ignoring you as you called out for him.

He acted as though you didn’t exist for all of your lessons, he didn't sit next to you, he didn't speak to you, he barely looked at you. You chose to have dinner alone in your room that night. It had occurred to you during your second period that Draco thought you were cheating on him with Harry. It made sense, you were sneaking around and you were seen giving Harry’s cloak back as if to say that you two had been meeting up in secret under it. But it also made absolutely no sense either, you and Draco had been together since the beginning of your 3rd year. Your father was a death eater for Pete’s sake, it didn’t take a genius to realise you’d be disowned if you brought home Harry fucking Potter.

You were partway through your transfiguration homework when Daphne came bounding up into the dormitory.

“Right, what is going on with you and Draco?” She asked, throwing her bag on the floor and collapsing on her bed.

“Nothing,” You lied.

“See that is absolute bullshit because he has been a moody prick all day and you skipped dinner, so come out with it, spill”

You sighed and explained everything.

“Why don’t you just tell him the truth then?”

“Because if I do, it’ll ruin the surprise”

“And if you don’t it’ll end your relationship, my mother is over the moon at the fact that I’ll be a bridesmaid at a Malfoy wedding, you don’t want to crush her dreams do you?”

“You’re right, do you know where he is?”

“He went straight into his dormitory”

You nodded and made your way there. He was joined by his friends.

“Rest of you out, thanks,” You said, walking in and standing in the middle of the room.

Blaise looked at Draco and he nodded, prompting him, Theodore and Goyle to leave. He refused to look at you. You took a seat at the end of his bed and began to explain.

“I’m well aware you think I’m cheating on you with Potter, but that’s really the complete opposite of what’s happening. The truth is, for the past few weeks, I’ve been arranging your birthday present. I finished it last night and I asked for Harry’s cloak so I could bring it back to my dormitory without revealing the surprise. That’s where I’ve been sneaking off to. Not to go snog Potter under his invisibility cloak”

“Oh”

“Bet you feel really fucking stupid now don’t you,” You scoffed

“I’m sorry, darling,”

“Do you not think? Could you imagine my parents’ reaction if I brought home Potter? They’d disown me faster than you came the first time we-”

He grabbed you into a hug before you could finish your sentence.

“I am truly sorry, princess, for jumping to conclusions and for ruining my surprise.”

“Well, you haven’t totally ruined it, you don’t know what it is yet.”

“Can we come back in yet, I need to get out of this fucking uniform” Theodore shouted from the bottom of the stairs.

Draco shouted back a yeah and his friends returned.

“See you two’ve kissed and made up, about time too, Draco’s a right git when he's moody”

Draco threw a pair of balled-up socks at Blaise’s head before you got up off the bed.

“I’ll meet you in the common room once I’ve finished my homework,” You told him before pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He mumbled an okay before kissing you once more and you were on your way.

The next morning, at breakfast, you noticed your father’s owl descend onto the table in front of you. You took the letter expecting him to fly off and return home but he waited expectantly, clearly, he was told to wait until you replied. He hopped up onto your arms as you took him to the owlery to recuperate while you read your letter and replied.

Y/N,

You’re hopefully aware that it is Draco’s birthday in a few weeks, I hope that you have got him an adequate gift. You know how important your 17th birthday is and as I remember, Draco spoilt you with 17 gifts. Since you are a young lady, you're not expected to gift him anything as lavish as some of the presents he gave you, but tradition dictates that you should get him something worthy of a pureblood wizard, in particular jewels. Please reply as soon as possible, only so I know that you won’t embarrass your father and I (and in the case you do, I can send you an alternative). Your brothers and your father send their regards. We miss you.

Mother

You rolled your eyes at her need for keeping up appearances and quickly scribbled her back a reply. You wished you were at home to see her reaction to you gifting him a painting you painted yourself. Once your father’s owl had filled himself up with water and owl feed, you attached the letter to him and sent him on his way.

Later in the evening, your mother’s owl pecked at you through the library window. You went out into the corridor and took a letter and a box off of her. Once you had freed her of her cargo, she hooted and flew off. You opened the second letter and read.

Sweetheart, I know that you are an accomplished young artist, but a painting will simply not do, especially for his 17th birthday. However, since I am your mother and I know you best, I had a feeling I would need to help you in this department. I took the liberty of going into Bourgin and Burke’s on the weekend and purchased a rare black diamond ring for Draco on your behalf. I think he will like it and I think you will too. I hope you are studying well for your exams,

Mother

You tried to rip open the wrapping on the box but it wouldn't move. The fold at the bottom lifted itself up a bit and ran across your finger, giving you a papercut. A thin line of blood collected on its edge and the wrapping dissolved leaving you with a red ring box, she was always partial to a bit of blood magic. You lifted the lid to see a thick silver band, it looked like it was either white gold or platinum, your mother thought sterling silver was too cheap, the oval cut diamond set atop a larger oval of platinum. It wasn't too plain but it also wasn’t overly gaudy, just as Draco liked it. You returned to the library with your second gift, making a note to hide it under your bed with your painting.

The next few weeks went past in a blur of mock exams and constant revision. Your first exam wasn’t until the 10th of June, giving you plenty of time to celebrate Draco’s birthday properly. The night before his birthday, half of Slytherin house was gathered in the common room waiting for it to hit midnight. You asked the elves to bake a cake for him and smuggled it with some snacks to have a small party with your friends.

At 11.59 you pulled a tie out from behind you and held it up.

“Gonna let me tie you up huh?” Draco asked with a smirk.

“Nice try, Malfoy, but this is for you” You replied getting up and tying it around his eyes.

“What are you doing, Y/L/N?”

You pointed your wand at the wall causing birthday banners and streamers to hang. Blaise brought the cake in from the 1st year dormitory. The large grandfather clock donged deeply as it hit midnight, you pulled his blindfold down as the whole common room burst into a rendition of happy birthday. He laughed and put his arm around your waist pulling you into his side. Nott finished the song on a horrible high note as Draco blew his candles out.

“Make a wish, Draco” Pansy shouted.

“I don’t need to, I've got everything I could wish for right next to me.”

You smiled up at him and gave him a kiss before addressing the crowd. “Eat my friends,” You felt like Dumbledore as plates of food dotted themselves around the common room. The attention moved from Draco to the food as everyone got up and attacked.

“Happy birthday, my love,” You said wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Thank you, princess, I wasn’t expecting this at all.”

“Only the best for my boyfriend”

You spent the next few hours playing truth or dare with your housemates, it was cut short when Snape barged into the common room, the decorations were ripped off the wall and the music from the radio stopped.

“I am going to give you until the count of 10 to return to your dormitory, anyone I still see standing here will be spending every weekend for the rest of the year cleaning with filch”

He began to count down from 10 as everyone scrambled to run into their dorms and get into bed.

You were so excited to surprise Draco with his presents that you skipped breakfast, instructing Daphne to tell him to meet you in the astronomy tower. You decided you were going to decorate your spot a little bit, you set up a soft blanket and some cupcakes and hung up the leftover banners and streamers from your midnight party in the common room. You had his gifts wrapped up with ribbon and some bows just to be extra, they sat in the centre of your blanket, the canvas taking up a large chunk of it. You had realised Draco would probably struggle to take the canvas back home, but that would be a problem he would have to deal with later.

“Y/N?” His voice called out from the bottom of the stairs.

“Up here, love” You replied, your head popping up over the bannister.

He broke into a smile when he saw you and rushed up the stairs taking them two at a time. You sat on the edge of the blanket and waited for him.

“Happy 17th birthday, Draco” You exclaimed as he reached the top.

His smile got even wider as he pulled you up and into a tight hug.

“I am so in love with you, do you know that?” he mumbled into your neck.

“I hope you feel the same after you see your presents,”

“Darling, you know you didn’t have to get me anything, you’re the best gift I could have ever received”

“I didn’t have to but I wanted to, here look”

His eyes fell onto the two wrapped gifts, he sat himself down and opened the top present.

“How did you get your hands on this?” he pulled the ring out and examined it closely.

“RIght so backstory to this, my mum didn’t believe that my original present was traditional enough to be a ‘wizard’s 17th birthday present’ so she went out to Bourgin and Burke and got this, but I wouldn’t have given it to you had I thought you wouldn't like it, so think of this as a gift from your in-laws.”

“My father’ll be jealous, he's been wanting a black diamond in his collection for ages now” He put the ring back in the box and was about to shut it.

“Wait, let me put it on. you put my ring on, so I’ll put yours on, practise for the big day”

He smiled at you as you sat down next to him and pulled the ring back out of the box. He held his left hand out for you and you slid the ring onto his ring finger.

“You know after this, they tend to kiss” He grinned.

“Oh yes, of course, if we’re going to practise we should be thorough” You pulled his head down and his lips met yours for a passionate kiss.

He pulled back after a few moments with a grin.

“We should keep practising, just to be on the safe side”

“Enough flirting, Malfoy you have another gift to open”

He turned and picked up the canvas in his hands.

“Is this the one you were sneaking away for?”

You nodded and he began to tear off the wrapping. He got up and placed it against the wall and stood there looking at it, silently. He was silent for a while as he watched the loop of Draco spinning you out and then dipping you on your return with a kiss. Although he hadn't said anything, you got the feeling that he didn't particularly like this gift. He was probably thinking of a way to let you down easily.

“Do you not like it?” You asked quietly.

“What? No!” he turned around with a genuine smile. “I love it, darling, it's perfect. Honestly, it's beautiful.”

You physically relaxed and went to stand next to him. “You said you didn’t like the painting in your room above the fire so I thought I’d give you something to change it with, I’m just not sure if your mother would like it, since its not one of those classical masterpieces.”

“I don’t care what my mother thinks, as soon as I get home, I’m hanging this right up on my wall. I just never knew you could paint like this”

“My mum made me start painting when I was three, I stopped lessons as soon as I started Hogwarts but I kept it up on the side as a hobby and, well, I thought I’d immortalise your favourite memory of us.”

“You never cease to amaze me” He turned and pulled you into him “Thank you,”

“Don’t be silly it’s your birthday, stupid”

“Not just for this, for everything. For putting up with everything, the jealousy, the anger, the-”

“Hey, I’m not putting up with anything, I love you, Draco, all of you”

“Merlin, I can’t wait to marry you” His lips crashed into yours for a frenzied kiss, overwhelmed with emotion. “This is by far the best birthday I’ve ever had, nothing will be able to top this”

And he wasn’t lying. Whenever he was asked, by his kids, his grandkids even his great-grandkids, what his favourite birthday celebration was, his response was always the same, his 17th birthday.

#Draco Malfoy #Draco #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco imagine #draco malfoy reader insert #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy x you #harry potter fanfic #harry potter imagines #hogwarts imagines #hp #hp imagines #draco lucius malfoy #slytherin

234 notes · View notes

grumpyhedgehogs · 3 years

Text

Liftoff

Summary: An alternate Infinite Darkness in which Shen Mei chooses a different person to partner with, Claire takes a more active role, and Leon turns to the dark side (only for a little while).Or: What if Jason had gotten to Leon with his 'fear into terror' speech, and Shen Mei had teamed up with Claire to put a stop to them both?

Notes: Canon typical violence, guns, explosions, threats. Spoilers for Infinite Darkness. (Help I’ve only loved Cleon for a day and I’m already writing angst fic for them!)

AO3

T-minus 30 Seconds

The first time Leon pointed a gun at her, fear flooded Claire. She’d barely heard his command until it was too late; her nervous system was going haywire, lighting up like a Christmas tree. He had shouted for her to duck and Claire had and Leon had pulled the trigger and saved her life. It’s been the same way the whole time they’ve known each other since; she gets into trouble and Leon tells her to get to safety and she listens or sometimes she doesn’t and sometimes it’s the other way around and she saves Leon instead, but in the end they both survive. That’s how they work. That’s how Claire thought they would always work.

This time, staring down the barrel of a gun with Leon S. Kennedy at the other end of it, Claire isn’t so sure they’ll both get out of this.

T-Minus 72 Hours

Witnessing a dead body is something Claire hates she’s gotten used to. Chris always gets that pinched, wan look on his face when she talks about what sights Raccoon City had to offer her, but she can’t help what happened any more than he can. The dead walked and Claire witnessed and then the whole thing went to hell in a handbasket all thanks to the U.S. government. If they had it their way, Penamstan is going to go the same way.

Claire resists the urge to tear down the papers swimming before her eyes. Instead she groans and rips her glasses off her nose, pinching her forehead. Her eyes throb but she knows she won’t find any sleep soon. The answers are here, have been staring her in the face for days or weeks, and she still can’t see them. “There has to be something I’m missing…”

A thump on the stairway outside has her spine snapping straight, ice flowing in her veins. Hurriedly, she snatches a lamp from the bedside table and yanks the cord out of the wall. She just has enough time to slip behind the door and ready herself before it opens with a quiet creak. The person on the other side is light-footed and sure, moves with the grace of years of training. They’re smaller than Claire thought they would be, just a slip of a shadow in the dark of her motel room. They are alone.

Claire lets out a grunt as she knocks the door closed with her elbow and brings the lamp down as hard as she can. The ceramic cracks and splinters from the force of her blow, but even though the body goes down with Claire on top of it, whoever it is still struggles. A fist catches against her shoulder and even though Claire manages to catch the other fist in her own hand before it connects, she wishes she had any of her firepower from Raccoon City with her now. The person beneath her bucks and twists, wiry muscle instead of the bulk Claire is used to fighting against. They slip their wrist from her hold before she can let out more than a cry of frustration, and a punch to the solar plexus doesn’t seem to slow them down for but a moment.

The darkness whirls in front of her eyes as Claire is flipped onto her back. Her head knocks harshly against the bureau in the room, stars erupting in her vision. Claire gasps, gags on the sudden nausea, and kicks out. Her foot connects with something boney, but it’s a glancing blow at best. Claire has survived too much to die in some shitty Washington motel room.

Long hair brushes Claire’s cheek as the person leans down; dark eyes glitter in the low light above her. “I don't want to hurt you,” the stranger says, and Claire laughs in her face.

“If I had a nickel for every time I’ve heard that before,” she spits.

“You are Claire Redfield.”

“Yeah, no shit!”

“You are investigating the Mad Dogs and their involvement in Penamstan. You know there was an outbreak there.”

That brings Claire up short. Her lungs burn and her breath is coming too fast, but the knock to her head doesn’t smart enough to make her believe she’s got a concussion. Hell, her ears aren’t even ringing. “So what? You gonna kill me for what I know? What I’m getting close to?”

“Claire Redfield, you know nothing.” The stranger raises her head and suddenly her weight lifts off of Claire. Claire struggles not to gasp in a huge breath of air, feeling like a beetle stuck on it’s back. The woman holds her hand out in offering. “Not yet. But I would like to tell you what really happened in Penamstan. I would like to tell the whole world.”

This could easily be a trick--but then, she could easily have killed Claire here in the lonely darkness without leading her on a wild goose chase first. Claire accepts her help and hauls herself to her feet. She straightens her jacket, brushes her fingers over her forehead, and is pleased when she finds no blood there. “I can help you with that, then.”

The other woman is not much smaller than she is, long black hair pulled into a sensible ponytail and leather jacket zipped all the way to the base of her throat. “My name is Shen Mei. My brother was in Penamstan when the outbreak happened; he was--”

“Turned,” Claire supplies, ash in her mouth.

Shen Mei nods, solemn and stony. “I thought one of the Mad Dogs--Jason--was helping me, but he is not. He wants to expose the use of bioweapons but he will get people killed to do it. And he has recruited an agent onto his side that I am afraid of. If we do not move quickly they will harm others so the truth can get out.”

“And cause mass hysteria as a result,” Clare finishes. “Then you can tell me the rest of what’s happened as we move. Let’s go.”

T-minus 68 Hours

Shen Mei is quiet, practical, and deadly with a knife. Just as she predicts, agents come after them. Shen Mei needs no help in fighting them off.

“You can’t--!”

The blood spills from the soldier’s throat as he twists, gasping, in Shen Mei’s hands. Claire lunges, trying to get her hands on his neck, trying to staunch the blood, but Shen Mei uses her shoulder to shove Claire back, shielding the dying man from her sight. “They will kill us before we can get to the chip in my grandfather’s safe.” Shen Mei hisses. “They will kill us for even suspecting what was done to those people, to my brother. They know now that I am a rogue agent, and they will come after me. You need to keep your hair and prints away from the crime scene so they do not come after you, too.”

Claire stares at the man’s eyes, glassy and empty, and breathes shallowly. She thanks whatever is out there that it isn’t Leon’s body cooling on the pavement at Shen Mei’s feet. Could she have stopped her if Leon were the one under the knife?

But Leon wouldn’t have tried to kill her in the first place. Claire breathes in, breathes out. Shen Mei sheathes her knife and beckons. “Our plane is on the tarmac. We don’t have much time.”

Claire leaves three dead agents behind her. She tries not to look back.

T-Minus 41 Hours

Shen Mei pockets the chip her grandfather passes her. Behind the sheer curtains, a heart monitor beeps steadily. Shen Mei’s grandfather motions Claire forward. The curtain pulls back and Claire tries not to gasp as she recognizes the grey flesh, the growths, the slow blood leaking through the sheets.

“My grandson.” he tells her quietly. “I used up my savings to help him. I failed--”

Even as Claire raises a hand to place on the old man’s shoulder, Shen Mei and the other man in the room stiffen. The doors slam open, rattling on their hinges as Claire whips around, eyes wide and hand going to the gun Shen Mei lent her. But she’d know those blue eyes anywhere, and they have always been safe for her. Claire doesn’t draw on Leon.

She doesn’t, but Shen Mei does. Leon’s gun is trained on her, dead center between her eyes, and Claire’s brain stalls. Why would Leon shoot Shen Mei? She’s good, she’s one of them. She needs protection just like Leon and Claire did during Raccoon City.

The other man tries to rush forward, but Leon growls at him and he subsides, eyes flicking between Shen Mei and her grandfather, looking for instructions that won’t come. Claire almost wants to shoo him out. This is no place for young blood.

“Leon!” She doesn’t wait until his eyes light on her, but pushes forward, placing herself squarely in front of Shen Mei. She might not be the one with army training, but she knows this man. She’s the one who can get him to see sense, not Shen Mei. She sees his face go a little slack in surprise as she raises her hand and curls it around the gun barrel, not bothering to push it away since he’d do it himself in a second. “Don’t shoot!”

“Claire.” Leon sounds like he’s grinding his teeth. “What are you doing here?”

“Helping, like always.” She rolls her eyes, tries to lighten her tone. It doesn’t work. His feet shift a little, but he plants himself again. He hasn’t lowered the gun. Something quivers in alarm at the back of Claire’s mind, but she ignores it. “Shen Mei is going to expose the outbreak in Penamstan I told you about, but we’ve got to move fast, because this Mad Dog agent, Jason, he’s--”

“Coming after Shen Mei for the chip. He’s going to expose the bioweapons for good,” Leon finishes. “I know.”

Her mouth feels cottony, her head stuffed with too much input to make sense of it. Leon is still and steady as a stone in the middle of a rushing river. His gun presses against her collarbone, the metal cool and frightening against her skin. His hair is lank and damp with sweat like he hasn’t had time to stop and rest for days and his eyes look wild in his face. Claire doesn’t--can’t--understand. Faintly, she tries, “Leon?”

Leon lets a gust of air out of his mouth, an explosive sigh, and he jerks his gun out of Claire’s face. Before she can even breathe out her relief (how could she have thought he’d do it? She chastised herself. It’s Leon.), he moves. His fingers curl, unforgiving, into the lapel of her jacket and jerk her forward. Surprised and off-kilter, Claire stumbles to Leon’s side. Anger and no small amount of worry at his aggression and strangeness course through her; Claire slaps at his hand but Leon refuses to let her go. It doesn’t take a genius to tell he’s moving her out of the way, moving her behind him, putting himself between her and Shen Mei--

“I told you she’s not the issue--”

“Yes,” Leon snaps, near snarling, his face so animalistic Claire doesn’t recognize him, “she is. I told you not to do anything stupid.”

Claire opens her mouth, about to retort hotly, and shuts it when the ground rolls beneath their feet. Shen Mei lets out a cry and her grandfather throws himself bodily onto what used to be his grandson. Beside her, close enough that Claire can feel his breath (when had he dragged her so close?), Leon curses.

“Damn it Jason, I said I needed more time.”

The house collapses down around their heads.

T-Minus 37 Hours

Shen Mei finds her in the wreckage. “You are lucky,” she says as she pulls Claire to her feet.

Claire knows she isn’t. She knows that because Leon had thrown them both behind one of the tables in the bedroom as the fires started. She knows that Leon had hauled her as far as he could from the blast, even as Claire ripped her throat to shreds screaming for Shen Mei and her family. His grip had been bruising. He hadn’t responded to her at all. He’d covered her as much as he could with his own body when the tremors took their legs out from under them. She thinks perhaps she remembers the feeling of weightlessness that comes with being carried in someone’s arms.

“Where’s Leon?”

“Gone,” Shen Mei tells her, grim. “We have to act quickly; he’s got the chip. He’ll bring it to Jason and set the world on fire if we don’t stop them.”

Every cell in Claire’s body screams at the wrongness of her statement; she wants to spit and rage and cry that Leon wouldn’t do this, that he’d never hurt people just to expose bioweapons, that he wouldn’t do this to her--but she just woke up alone after her world caved in. Leon left her here.

Leon left. If Claire wants answers from him, she’s going to have to follow after him--it’s almost just like old times.

T-Minus 5 Minutes

“The control room,” Shen Mei shouts as they run. Jason stands on one of the catwalks, Wilson struggling fruitlessly in his hold. A dark corner of Claire thinks about waiting until he’s dead before stopping Jason.

“I’m on it!” She answers instead, hopping one of the railings and hauling ass to the small booth Shen Mei had pointed out.

But when she bursts through the doors, Claire realizes she’s too late. Leon stands in front of the control panel, his back to her; Claire knows his eyes are on the dying man above him, on the bioweapon threatening to end the lives of innocent people for the sake of the greater good just like in Raccoon City. In his left hand, there’s a glint of light as the chip catches on the low fluorescents in the room. He flips the chip almost carelessly between his fingers.

“Leon.”

“Claire.”

Even now, with her heart in her mouth, Claire can’t stand to believe it. She moves forward, until she’s standing across from him, so close she can smell the dust and smoke on his jacket. He smells like the rubble of Shen Mei’s home.

“Listen, I don’t know what your game plan is, but we don’t have much time.” She says quickly, trying to outrun the alarm bells ringing in her ears. “I couldn’t tell Shen Mei what you were doing because you didn’t tell me, but she’ll understand once we stop Jason together. We can talk to her and she’ll forgive you--”

“I don’t want to be forgiven,” Leon says, calm as the moment before the storm hits, “and I don’t want to stop Jason.”

He turns then, and the gun’s metal is warm now when it presses into her skin. “And you won’t either,” Leon finishes. His eyes are still too wide, the white showing all around the iris and his pupils tight and small. He looks like a cornered animal, like a dog about to snap its jaws at her. Claire forgets how to breathe.

“What are you doing?”

“We have to finish this, Claire. We have to put a stop to it all.”

“By killing innocent people?” She spots it the moment he balks; it’s so small no one else would see it. A tremble in his fingers, a stiffening of his mouth where it settles in his face. Claire’s world is spinning, the fundamentals are changing, the foundations are rending, but some things stay the same. Even as Leon rips apart all she knew of him, he’s still the same. “Leon, this isn’t you. I don’t know what happened, but I know you wouldn’t want to hurt people even if it meant stopping bioweapon productions for good. We fought for more than this.”

“When will it end?" He snaps. Claire tries not to flinch. He’s never been sharper with her, never been so manic and wild. “When do we stop fighting, Claire?”

“When we finish it,” She answers. Behind him, acid begins to flood the production floor. How long do they have until it reaches the level she can see Shen Mei scaling up? How long until Wilson’s skull gives under the pressure? How long until Jason grows tired of toying with them?

Leon shakes his head and the barrel of his gun shakes with him. He wavers, and Claire's confidence in Leon wavers with him. “Don’t you see? This will finish it.”

“If you think that, you really have gone insane.” Claire shakes her head, and, slow as she can, reaches up, a mirror of just yesterday. This time, she cups his hand in hers, fingers overlapping on the butt of the pistol. “Leon, if you let Jason do this, it will only be the beginning.”

“Everyone will know, just like you wanted.”

“Everyone will be dead,” Claire replies, letting her tone get as harsh and abrasive as it wants to be. “God, Leon, what the fuck happened to you? This isn't the person I know. This isn’t my friend.”

His lip curls and the barrel grows steady again. Claire doesn’t recognize the man threatening her anymore. “Maybe this is who I’ve always been and you’ve just been too blind to see it.”

“If that’s the case, you might as well shoot me now,” Claire argues, feeling her own lips pull back from her teeth. “Because I’d rather be dead than know I love someone who could do this.”

The world stops spinning on its axis. Claire fights the urge to run, to hide, to bite her lip and drop Leon’s gaze because she hadn’t exactly known what would come out of her mouth when she opened it. Too late now, though. Go big or go home, that’s what Chris always told her.

Leon moves before she can register it.

T-Minus 30 Seconds

The gun clatters against the metal as it lands on the floor, bouncing once, twice, three times. It slides away from their feet and rests by the door, harmless.

Kissing Leon is not at all like Claire would have imagined it. She’d learned to shut that idea out of her mind quickly; she’s not blind and she’s not stupid and she has better things to do than pine after a man who will never give her the time of day. Still, in the glimpses of fantasy she’d allowed herself, she’d seen candlelight and romantic music. She’d seen herself brushing his hair out of his eyes and him smiling that goofy, wide grin of his. She’d seen softness.

Kissing Leon is like pressing on a bruise to test its tenderness. It makes something sweet and painful twist in her chest when he presses close as he can. Her hand does slide into his hair but she twits it into knots around her fingers instead of smoothing it out like she wants to. His hand does dip into the small of her back like they’re about to dance together, but he’s balled it into a fist in the leather of her jacket. His mouth is hot and devouring, but he takes and takes and takes and gives nothing in return, leaving Claire gasping for air and feeling something closer to despair than she’d like.

His breath is warm and wet when he pants against her mouth. “Everyone could know without you releasing the chip,” Leon says, quiet in the middle of destroying her world. She’s in the eye of the storm and it is so very lonely. “You’d be safe.”

“I don’t want to be safe,” Claire tells him, achingly slow, feeling as if her heart is being ripped out of her piece by piece.

He doesn't fight when she laces their fingers together, just pulls her closer. His heart beats a tattoo against her ribs. “I can’t protect you if you’re the one who breaks the story.” Leon's voice strains, cracks, breaks. Perhaps she’s not the only one feeling desperate.

Claire shakes her head. “I only ever wanted to help. If you won’t let me, then I’ll do it myself.” Slipping from his grasp, she palms the chip she took from the nerveless fingers of his left hand. With her other hand, she brings Shen Mei’s gun up and clocks Leon across the jaw as hard as she can with the butt of it. Surprised, he stumbles, slumping across the control panel. She hurries to shove him away and, praying her glances at the platform names over Leon’s shoulder during their conversation were enough, begins pressing buttons rapidly.

Shen Mei screams as the platform under her feet falls away. Jason’s center of gravity is lower than hers, and he’s heavier; even his claws and strength and agility and determination cannot save him. As Claire swings another platform around to catch Shen Mei, a faint groan rips through the air behind her.

It’s time to go. (If she stays for when he wakes, Claire isn’t sure she’ll survive. Her heart’s too weak for that.)

Shen Mei slumps on the platform Claire slid under her to stop her fall. She has to collect the agent and flee before anyone finds them down here. Claire hits one last sequence which will give her a path to Shen Mei and the exit, holsters her gun, and doesn't look down as she steps over Leon.

“Claire…”

It feels like her bones are all broken, or have been replaced with shards of glass. It feels like her muscles are being rent from her flesh one at a time. It feels like she’s being dragged beneath the waves of the ocean and the light of her only salvation is retreating, retreating, retreating, so far away. Claire turns her head, just enough to catch the glint of his eye in the corner of hers. She can’t look at him, not now. She might stay if she does.

“When you’re ready to make it right,” Claire says, ignoring how her voice quivers and her mouth twists. “Then we’ll talk.”

After Launch

Leon brings one last drink to his lips. He ignores the looming and the badgering. He ignores the yelling and insults. He ignores the way his companion slams his fists into the wooden tabletop and rattles the bottles in front of him. Instead, he thinks about the pounding of Claire’s heart against his own. He thinks about pointing a gun at her. He thinks about her sharp eyes and the way her mouth had twisted in disgust. He thinks about how there wasn’t fear in her face but anger, hot and terrible and poisonous. He drinks until the drink is gone.

“Are you ready to make it right?” Chris demands.

Leon thinks of Claire--of the way she turned from him there at the very end of it all. At the end of the world she left. But that isn't fair: he’d left her first. Leon stands.

“Let’s get started.”

33 notes · View notes

crystal-heart-saga · 3 years

Text

Crystal Heart Chapter Four - HYDRA Attack

Tony's POV

Weeks passed, Fury and Hill finally got their heads out of their asses and decided that the safest place for Melanie once she left the hospital was Avengers Tower. (Which Steve and I could have told them the day after we rescued the kid)

The day we brought Melanie home, she followed Steve around like a lost puppy, afraid of being alone. Though over the weeks that followed, as she slowly got to know the rest of the Avengers, her confidence grew.

Then One night, she wandered down to my workshop.

Steve was on a solo mission, Peter was on Patrol and I was working. I had`nt slept for two days and was onto my sixth cup of coffee for the night when the door to my workshop opened.

"Pete, that you Underoos?" I asked, Peter often came to the workshop when he finished patrol.

"Ummm, It's me Mr. Stark," Said a voice that was Obviously not Peter.

I turned around from the workbench and Melanie stood in the doorway. looking terrified.

"What's wrong Mel?" I asked, gesturing that it was okay for her to come in.

"I... I had a bad dream."

I reached for a rag and wiped the grease off my hands before walking over and putting my arm around the girl, "You wanna talk about it?"

"But..." she started, but I cut her off, "I know what a bad dream is Mel. I've had a few myself." I said, "You can tell me. It's ok.

She took a deep breath, "It was about... HYDRA...They... they turned me... turned me into some kinda...Puppet... and I... I hurt Steve..." She burst into tears and wrapped her arms around my neck, "Mr. Stark, I hurt him so bad... and you... didn't want me anymore... "

"Oh mellie... That's not gonna happen. I promise. I will always want you around." I said, pulling her into a hug.

"But I..." she broke down into tears again, "But I was so scared... I don't wanna go back... I was so scared..."

"It's ok Mel. It's gonna be ok." I said, "Come on, let's get you back to bed."

I pulled the girl close to my side and walked her back to her room, tucking her back into her bed.

"I'm Sorry Mr. Stark," Melanie whimpered as I adjusted the blanket over her.

"What for?" I asked.

"For coming down to the workshop. I know You were busy and I... couldn't even..." Melanie was crying again, she rolled over, facing away from me as if ashamed by her tears.

"Come on Mel, It's ok, It's not your fault." I soothed, "You know that, right?

"I-I know." Melanie sniffled.

"You can come down to the workshop anytime, day or night." I said, "I'm always gonna be here for you. We all will."

Melanie sniffed again. "Promise?"

"Promise."

Melanie rolled back over, looking at me with tears in her eyes. "Thank you Mr. Stark." she said, "For everything."

"You're welcome Mellie."

"Will... will you stay for a bit? Till I fall asleep?"

"Sure," I said, more than a little surprised at the request. I settled in the chair beside Melanie's bed. My Project could wait a while. "Get some sleep kiddo, I'll keep you safe."

I must have dozed off at one point because the next thing I knew, it was the next morning and Peter was nudging me awake. After I rushed my Spider-ling to school, I returned to my project, only to find Melanie waiting for me in the workshop. She was sitting in what Steve called his "Sketching corner," an armchair and coffee table with pencils, a pile of loose drawing paper and a sketchbook.

"What's going on Mel?" I asked.

"Ummm, I wanted to thank you, for last night," Melanie said, brushing a strand of blonde hair from her face.

"You`re welcome kid, I know how real those nightmares can feel," I replied.

suddenly, Melanie's heterochromatic eyes went as wide as saucers, "Mr Stark, Steve needs help."

"Miss Peters is correct sir," JARVIS confirmed, "Captain Rogers is upstairs, he appears to be ill."

We both grimaced at the news, "We should hurry," I said, grabbing Melanie by the hand and leading her upstairs. Cursing under my breath the whole way. Steve never gets sick. Ever. Something was seriously wrong.

My fears were confirmed when we got to the penthouse and found Steve throwing up into the toilet; he looked terrible. His blond hair was soaked in sweat, practically plastered to his forehead, and his big blue eyes lacked their usual sparkle.

"Steve, Steve," I said, kneeling beside him "You look awful sweetheart."

"Tony, is Melanie okay?" Steve asked, breathing heavily.

"She's fine, she and i've been down in the workshop," I replied. combing my fingers through his damp hair.

"they`re.... coming for... her, you have... to protect her.."

"And leave you here bringing your guts up? No way."

"I`ll Be fine, this is the serum, it's getting the poison out of my system."

"Poison?" I asked, alarmed.

"I`ll explain later, just keep her safe. Please Tony,"

"I promise, I will." I kissed his pale cheek before getting to my feet and leaving to find Melanie. she was waiting just outside.

"Melanie, we need to talk," I said.

She nodded, her Heterochromatic eyes full of fear and concern.

I took her by the hand and led her into the Laundry, "Do you remember that first day at the hospital? Where Peter hid you when HYDRA agents came looking for you?"

Melanie nodded, "In the Bathtub," she replied.

"Well today`s a little bit different," I said.

Melanie seemed to understand what i was implying and clambered into the Laundry basket. I quickly arranged the clothes so she was concealed from the outside and placed a blanket on top of her.

"one of us`ll come and get you when it`s safe `kay?"

Melanie made a little sound of acknowledgement.

The basket was beside the dryer, so I turned on a load. Figuring that the noise would conceal Melanie`s breathing and keep her warm at the same time.

When i closed the lid to the basket, Goose positioned herself on top of it.

"Goose, Stay. Protect her," I instructed

"Meow," Said goose.

By the time I`d called my suit, Steve was staggering into the living room.

"Melanie?" he asked.

"Safe, Goose`s on guard duty" I replied, "You sure you`re okay?"

Steve took two steps towards me and nearly fell over in a heap. I caught him and eased him onto the ground, (thanks to the Armour, i never would have been strong enough otherwise)

"m'ok." Steve said "I lost my focus for a moment, that's all." He stared at up at me, blue eyes glassy.

"Yeah no, You're far from ok." I replied, "You need to sit this one out."

"Can't.." Steve protested, "I promised Mel... I'd Protect.. her."

"That's a promise we all made," I reminded, but before I could continue, A Bomb broke through the Skylight, Flooding the room with Gas.

My Helmet closed immediately, and I sent out the Avengers Assemble code before looking down at Steve. His super-immunity was busy fighting whatever these Lunatics had poisoned him with, thereby lowering his resistance to the gas.

"Come on Capsicle, Stay with me," I said as I started to drag him out of the Gas cloud. When we retreated to the hall, My fiancé had passed out, but he was still breathing.

Before i knew it, The rest of the Team had gathered around us.

"F***! What happened?" Natasha asked.

"Some Lunatic poisoned him," I replied, "And then HYDRA tossed a gas bomb through the skylight. Bucky, can you get him down to Medbay?" I asked.

Bucky nodded, and I watched as he grabbed Steve and supported him. About a year ago, I wouldn't have trusted my fiancé`s best friend as far as I could throw him. But after he saved Peter's life from A Vengeful Green Goblin. It forced me to admit that maybe i was wrong.

"Where`s Melanie?" Clint signed as Bucky disappeared down the fire escape.

L-a-u-n-d-r-y B-a-s-k-e-t G-o-o-s-e I signed back.

Clint Saluted and ran off.

As I charged my repulsers, The memory of last night, and Melanie's distraught, terrified face flashed before my eyes. taking a deep breath, I prepared for the battle ahead. Those Asses were not going to take My girl away.

#the crystal heart saga #stony #iron dad #iron dad and spider son #Crystal heart #marvel fanfic series #marvel fanfic #whump #Steve Rogers whump #deaf clint barton #goose the cat #goose the flerken

12 notes · View notes

12tardis · 4 years

Text

Feel The Pull Of You (Newt Scamander x Reader)

Warnings: none (cabbage if you’re James Acaster)

Requested: Yes @imapartofwaytoomanyfandoms24 asked for ‘a soulmates AU where the reader loves magical creatures and they can only see colour when they touch their soulmate and she runs into him looking for her demiguise. She’s in shock and so is Newt and then she sees her demiguise runs up to it and grabs it and walks back to him and they both stare at each other’ - thank you honey! I hope you like it- I’ve had a couple soulmate ideas kicking around my head for a bit but I hadn’t considered the colour one so thank you!

Summary: You’ve seen in only shades of grey your entire life knowing that meant you had a soulmate out there somewhere. Your demiguise has been acting up lately and leads you on a wild goose chase through the streets of London where you literally fall into the arms of a handsome stranger.

A/N: I had to stop here or else I was just gonna keep writing for lord knows how long because IMAGINE what a trip it would be to see all the creatures with your whole new colour palette.

Words: 1,925

Title song: The Pull Of You- The National - just rewatched the IAETF film last night and balled my eyes out. What was it you always said? We’re connected by a thread. If we’re ever far apart I’ll still feel the pull of you.

Taglist: @moonkissk7 @just-an-outstanding-auror

It had been exactly 3 months since Newt had finally released his book ‘Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them’ and exactly 3 weeks since he’d received the most unexpected letter in the mail from a complete stranger.

There had been plenty of children and a few keen creature lovers that had approached him at his book signings. They were always eager to hear more about his adventures and his case and he’d received a few fan-mail letters, again mostly from children drawing their favourite creatures. He loved those ones especially because he hoped it meant he might have inspired another generation of children to follow in his footsteps.

But there was one letter Newt hadn’t put down since he’d received it 3 weeks ago. He kept it in his pocket and often found himself re-reading it over and over again. There was just something about the elegant scrawl that had completely captivated him from the moment he opened it.

And here he was again, standing beside a cafe in the middle of a bustling street in London, pulling the well worn letter from his pocket and tracing his fingertips along the lettering. He had had every intention of writing back to the stranger but a mishap involving a hungry Graphorn had meant he’d lost the envelope with the sender return address much to his dismay.

‘Dear Mr. Scamander,

I am writing to thank you for your incredible book and the remarkable work you have done in magical creature preservation. I must admit I found myself quite moved by your passion. I am an aspiring Magizoologist myself and I can assure you there is still an entire world of magnificent creatures out there to discover!

I wonder if perhaps you were looking for an assistant to help you with your creatures? I’m sure, a capable set of hands could be of great service to you with your ever expanding case and I am confident I could be of help.

Perhaps we could meet for tea some time and I can show you some of my dearest creatures?

I eagerly await your response.

Yours respectfully, Y/N L/N ‘

As he stood on the street corner reading the letter for what must have been the hundredth time he truly mourned the fact that he had no way to contact the sender because there was just something about it that pulled at his heart strings like he’d never felt before. It almost felt like a puzzle. One that he desperately needed to solve.

The letter had kept him up most nights, wondering about things that would never usually cross his mind. He wondered what the sender looked like? And more peculiarly he wondered what the colour of her eyes were. Or perhaps the colour of her hair?

To most people these questions would be normal to ponder and that was because most people had some idea or reference for colour. But not Newt. For Newt, these questions were completely nonsensical because he only saw in shades of grey.

His colour blindness had never bothered him before because he knew it meant he was one of the lucky ones that had a soulmate. A twin flame that he was destined to be with. He was generally content, and patient biding the time because he knew one day he would meet his other half. But ever since he’d received that letter he had found himself feeling restless and frustrated, walking the length of the city and mourning the entire spectrum of colour he was missing out on.

It bothered him now to realise that he had no idea what colour the letter even was. What colour was the ink you’d used? Logically he knew it was black ink on a presumably neutral toned paper but what did that even look like?

He was so preoccupied in his musings that he barely registered the sensation of his case rattling in his hold as one of his creatures was unsettled because he was suddenly stood face to face with a Demiguise. A Demiguise that certainly wasn’t his Dougal.

“Bunsen! BUNSEN! Oh my stars Bunsen I swear if you don’t get back here right now you’ll be eating cabbage for the rest of the week. CABBAGE!”

You were madly dashing through the London crowds in pursuit of your rogue Demiguise, completely uncaring of the bewildered looks you were receiving from the other locals.

Bunsen had been acting out of sorts for several weeks now, pacing back and forth and frequently leading you on wild chases much like the one you were on now. This time though he really wasn’t relenting and you were just thankful no one else noticed the creature hurtling past them.

Your stomach dropped however when you saw him stop and stand on his hind legs to face a man in a long coat. The man had his back to you but you were certain from his body language that he was very much aware of the rare creature that was now stood in front of him with glowing eyes.

“MERLIN NO!”, you panicked dashing towards the man.

“Sir, please don’t panic! He’s harmless I promise! He can’t hurt you, just stay calm!” you shouted at him as you approached, lunging for the Demiguise that dodged you, of course, sending you careening forward into the very arms of the man you were shouting at.

You gasped, blinking furiously when your vision transformed instantly while your heart seemed to swell to double its size in your chest. You stared down at the ground in wonder, taking in the way the shades of grey slowly bled into all these colours and shades you’d never seen before.

Newt grasped you in his arms with a loud ringing in his ears as he tightened his hold on you instinctively. He gaped back at you, so completely enraptured with the sight of you that he barely noticed the new spectrum of colour he could now see.

That was until you were suddenly moving out of his hold and rushing away from him. His knees nearly buckled as he watched your retreating figure, his brain now vaguely taking in the colours around him. He was still standing frozen to the sidewalk as he slowly came to digest what had just happened.

He had literally just run into his soulmate. Who was chasing a Demiguise. You tripped and he caught you and then you ran away from him just as quickly, and his heart was surely about to shatter beyond repair but then oh-

You were walking back towards him, with the Demiguise perched on your hip and he felt his heart in his throat as he took you in.

You had nearly fallen again when Bunsen had suddenly stopped in his tracks, seemingly content with being in your arms again as you scooped him up. You noticed the way his eyes flashed and he was looking over your shoulder and you remembered that yes, you had just cannon balled into your soulmate.

The person you’d been dreaming of your entire life. “Why you clever little…”, you breathed out, petting Bunsen shakily while your heart slammed in your chest. You closed your eyes and sucked in a deep breath before you turned back around to face the man..

You two stood in front of one another for what felt like an hour, just staring at each other in complete awe. You took in the colour of his hair, fighting back the unexpected impulse you felt to comb your fingers through it and then you looked back into his eyes. And you knew then what your favourite colour in the world was.

Newt was entirely unprepared for the sudden urge he had to just touch. He’d never really understood the need for affection, instead shying away from it but as he gazed back at you his hands seemed to burn at his sides. He longed to run his thumb along your bottom lip or graze his hand down the curve of your shoulder to your waist.

Bunsen had apparently had enough of the silent staring competition going on between you two though because he let out a huff followed by low grumble.

This startled Newt from his stupor and he quickly held his hand out to you “I do apologise for my rudeness, I’m-“

“Newt Scamander”, you breathed out quickly, your eyes bright and a small smile playing on your lips. Newt’s eyebrows flew up in response.

“You know my n-name?”, he stuttered, stunned that a beauty such as yourself would know who he was. And when you took his hand in your own he felt the most overwhelming sense of peace rush over him.

You squeezed his hand in your own, nodding slowly as you smiled wider at him “yes, I wrote to you. A few weeks ago. My name is-“

“Y/N L/N!”, he cut you off this time, his eyes wide as he set his case down beside him carefully, still gripping your hand in his own as he used the other to rummage through his coat pocket. “You wrote this!” he exclaimed, holding the obviously worn letter up for you to inspect.

It was your turn to look at him in astonishment as you nodded again, furrowing your eyebrows.

“I...something about this letter just felt...like home,” Newt explained, shyly threading his fingers with yours as he pocketed the letter once again.

When you stared back at him silently, glancing down at your joined hands he continued.

“I apologise, I really wanted to write you back but one of the Graphorn’s ate the envelope”, he turned to look at Bunsen then, nodding at him.

“I bet you two would get along”, he murmured and Bunsen made a noise of interest, reaching an arm out towards Newt signalling that he wanted to be held.

You looked down at Bunsen in surprise because he had never allowed another person to touch him before but your surprise quickly washed away as you watched Newt take him into his arms, greeting him with the kindest smile you’d ever seen that you couldn’t help but swoon. Of course he would like Newt. He had, after all, been trying to make this meeting happen for weeks now.

“Oh!”, you were broken out of your ogling when a passerby just barely missed knocking Newt’s case over that was still set on the ground beside him. You didn’t hesitate to pluck the case up, holding it securely against your chest and the very sight alone had Newt feeling dizzy with adoration. Not only were you breathtaking but you cared for creatures too.

“So um…” he cleared his throat nervously, looking back at you with hopeful eyes “I know I’m a bit late, but I wonder if you are still interested in that cup of tea?”

You smiled back at him widely, stepping close to him until you were nearly chest to chest and he sucked in a breath of surprise when you lay your hand over his where it was resting on Bunsen “yes, but only if you promise to show me around your case afterwards.”

Newt laughed softly, nodding as he shifted Bunsen to be perched on his hip with one arm so he could thread his fingers with yours again “well I suppose it would help if my assistant knew her way around the enclosures”, he murmured, looking over at you as you fell into step beside him, following him through the bustling streets hand in hand. -MORE WRITINGS HERE-

#newt scamander x reader #newt scamander #newton artemis fido scamander #newt scamander x y/n #newt scamander x you #newt x reader #soulmate au #fantastic beasts and where to find them

358 notes · View notes

dynamoe · 2 years

Text

REDOING Billy & White's LOST YEARS : 1996

1996 - the one where they… argue about bands? (There isn’t a story for this, I just wanted to draw these outfits.)

Still no story for this at least I'm drawing the outfits better now.

← previously: redesigning 1994

↓ gets self-indulgent/wonky below the fold ↓

The motivation was to draw the "uniform" of a couple subcultures that emerged after the death of grunge (Cobain's suicide in Spring 1994 took the whole genre with it). I didn't want to break the even numbers of the set but 1995 is a better setting for this than 1996.

Britpop frontmen Brett Anderson and Jarvis Cocker basically had White’s usual haircut in the ‘90s so I had to give him Oasis’.

↑ Brett Anderson of Suede has Pete's haircut (kinda, sorta). And earring, too.

Britpop wasn't that big in the US. Blur and Pulp and Oasis had hits (Suede did not), but it wasn't a whole identity here like it was in the UK. There wasn't a fashion (essentially sloppy "casual" "hard mod," all British Heritage brand). So, the idea of some American guy just "going Britpop" is ace poseurism. Like spelling color with a "U."

... given that he’s the perfect overlap of a.) in his early 20s b.) bookish & c.) overly sentimental/afraid of girls that first Belle & Sebastian record is gonna hit him like a ton of bricks. (And he’s less likely to get beaten up at a Tullycraft show.)

"Cuddlecore" is funny to say, but too obscure (only cub. called themselves cuddlecore). Getting aggressive defending twee pop ("indie bubblegum rock") is amusing to me since all sweet and cuddly. "Indie Rock" meant something kinda different in the '90s than it does now, but that's the core of what I mean. It's "the alternative to Alternative." "The Soft Rock of Punk." (It's punk for nerds who can't fight and read a lot)

Twee is also a British import and Indie Rock has tons of UK pretentious, so they're arguing over micro-niche difference.

↑ is the outfit semi-subconsciously modeled on Adrian Tomine's self portrait from this comic that ran in PULSE the Tower Records magazine in the mid-90s?

I already goosed up this outfit for Billy getting his ID checked at the video store in February but I need a more argumentative pose so the arms had to go.

↓ the (slightly shit) original 1996 ↓

↓ progress as of 4/4 ↓

More 1990s Billy & White →

The Lost Years (a spin-off pitch)

Lost Years Storylines (1992, 1994, 1996, 1998)

One More Storyline (1999 TW: school shooting)

New Jack Swing (1990-91)

How Can We Make Your Tomorrow Better? (1994)

→ All 2021 BILLY & WHITE posts

4 notes · View notes

one-boring-person · 4 years

Note

Heyy 😊👉🏼👈🏼 it’s me again... I know that I literally just requested one, and received, which you did a fantastic job on btw! I’m like in a Top Gun love state right now, and I wanna warn you like I will probably be like a repeat customer 😅 so if it is not too much to ask, whenever you feel like, could I have a maverickxreader where he admires reader from afar and Goose knows he likes her and messes with him and somehow Goose helps them get together 😘😘 I’m sorry if it’s too soon 🤞🏽❤️

Of course, I'm glad you liked the first one!!💛💛

Buy Her A Drink.

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x reader

Warnings: alcohol consumption

Masterlist

"...Earth to Maverick? You there?" A familiar voice calls over the loud music, a hand waving in front of my face to get me to tear my eyes away from the point I'm staring at, my gaze easily finding Goose as he passes me a beer, smirking knowingly at me as he leans back against the bar.

"Where else would I be?" I respond, taking a deep drink from the bottle, my eyes quickly flicking back to the object of my focus, a sigh inadvertently escaping me as I watch her.

"In (Y/n)-dreamland, I reckon." The RIO points out, laughing as my head snaps round to face him, "Oh come on, you're not exactly being discreet!"

Frowning, I look down as a blush starts to creep up my neck, the bottle returning to my lips as I deny him.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Goose scoffs, rolling his eyes dramatically at the look on my face, looking over in the direction I was staring in, still grinning.

"Oh yeah? So you haven't been making heart eyes at her for the last month, hmm?" He lifts an eyebrow, nudging me as he gestures in (Y/n)'s direction, "Last time I checked, you haven't been able to get enough of her since we first got here."

"Stop it." I warn him, setting my jaw as he makes a noise of amusement.

"What? I'm just pointing out the facts." He grins widely at me, "Remember when we first flew together and you let her take the finishing shot? First time that's ever happened. And the time when we were playing volley ball altogether, when you let her win everytime?"

"I never let her take the first shot, or let her win. She's just a really good flyer, and she won all the games fair and square!" I protest, waving off his points as a blush continues to cover my cheeks, taking a sip of the beer to disguise it.

"Keep telling yourself that, Mav. I'm not the only one who remembers you getting all flustered that time when it was so hot her uniform was sticking to her skin. You couldn't keep your eyes off her." Goose remarks, leaning back against the bar with a conspiratorial smirk.

By now, my cheeks are probably bright red, my jaw clenched painfully as I recall that time, my eyes now finding the skilled pilot across the room from me, eyeing her as she jokes around with Iceman and Slider, the three of them having grown particularly close over our time at Top Gun. At the sight of them, I feel my teeth grind together, though I force myself to relax as I admire her appearance instead, subtly observing how her uniform hugs the curves of her body, and how her hair is neatly styled despite her more relaxed demeanor, the bottle in her hand appearing half empty from where I am. Her smile seems to light up the room as the three of them burst into laughter, her hand reaching out to rest against Iceman's arm in what is probably a purely platonic manner,

"Just buy her a drink or something, man. I'm sure she likes you back." My RIO encourages me, looking me in the eye as he says this, completely serious despite the grin still on his face.

"She looks happy enough with Ice and Slider." I grumble in response, finishing the rest of my beer in one long drag, turning and slamming the bottle on the bartop, trying to fight the urge to keep watching her, knowing I'm probably coming across as creepy.

"Oh come on, don't be like that, Mav! I think she'd much prefer your company. She does keep looking over, after all." Goose consoles me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders reassuringly as I look over at him.

"She doesn't." I murmur quietly.

"And how would you know?" He smirks again, knowing that I've been watching her nearly the entire night, "I tell you what, I'll help you out. Cath you later, man."

Before I can protest, he's gone, giving me one last part on the back as he goes, a few bills left on the counter for me to use, an unspoken rule we've always had: if trying to persuade the other to get a girl, we always pay for each other's first drinks. It helped get Carole and Goose together, but unfortunately it hasn't yet helped me. Growling to myself, I snatch up the notes and stuff them in my pocket, straightening and turning, banging into someone immediately, my hands instantly coming out to steady them as they yelp and stumble backwards, their drink spilling over our shirts.

My eyes widen as they find the person in my arms to be (Y/n), her own eyes locking with mine briefly, before she looks away, chuckling awkwardly, a blush dusting her cheeks, her own hands wiping at her front.

"Err, hey? Goose said you wanted to talk to me?" She questions me, looking up at me imploringly, features softer in the dim light, giving her a different appearance to the experienced pilot I know on the runway.

"Did he now?" I respond, fighting the urge to roll my eyes, "I'm really sorry about your drink. Want another? It's on me."

A grin spreads across her face at my offer, the pilot nodding softly at me as she moves to sit on a barstool beside me, uncaring of her now-damp uniform, telling me her order. Requesting it from the bartender, I scan the room for Goose, quickly locating him next to Sundown, shooting him a scowl as he lifts his bottle in salute, grinning at me.

"So what was it you wanted to say to me?" (Y/n) inquires as she receives her drink, eyeing me carefully as I adjust myself unsure of what to say.

"I think Goose made that up so you would come talk to me, actually." I admit, looking down at the bottle in my hand, embarrassment rendering me incapable of keeping eye contact with her.

"Oh." She giggles, the sound storing itself in my memory as she takes a drink, her smile wide and cheerful, not weirded out at all, "Well, at least he succeeded."

"True." I murmur, finally mustering the courage to lock eyes with her again, drowning in their warm depths.

For a few minutes, we sit there in silence, during which I start to doubt myself, my self esteem lowering even further as I struggle to come up with a topic of conversation, my head suddenly going blank for the first time in my life. Beside me, (Y/n) quietly drinks from the glass in front of her, clearly having the same problem as I am, fingers tracing idle patterns on the smooth counter. Looking over at her, I finally decide that I've had enough of this, turning to face her properly, drawing her attention to me almost immediately, confusion etched into her face.

"Goose got you to come over here because he wants me to admit to you that I like you, because he thinks that you like me back, which is ridiculous because I'm not your type at all, and I'm probably not what you're looking for, and I'm too nervous to make a move anyway, so he got you over here when he knows I've had a bottle or two of beer to loosen my tongue, so that I will finally confess to yo-" I gush out, rambling on as I try to organise my thoughts into one steady stream.

"Wait, you like me?" She suddenly cuts me off, having gauged something from the tirade of words.

I freeze in place before replying, unsure if how she'll react.

"...Yeah, I really do. I think you're amazing, the way you fly is incredible and you're a really nice person in general. You're sweet and funny, and I don't think I've ever come across someone who actually tolerates my flying style like you do, so yeah, I like you."

She is quiet for a minute or so, the suspense killing me as I prepare to make my excuses, ready to up and leave in case this now gets awkward. When she does speak, I try to expect the worst, knowing I'll be rejected.

"I mean I wish you'd told me sooner. At least the I could've spent less time fretting over whether you liked me back or not." She finally comments, remarks offhanded and surprising, my mind having to replay the words a few times before I actually understand what she means.

"You like me, too?!" I nearly exclaim in disbelief, happiness exploding inside me as she nods, reaching a hand over the table to lace our fingers together, a soft smile gracing our lips as we look at each other.

"I do, but you're gonna have to take me on a date before we make this official." (Y/n) chuckles, making eye contact with me.

"Well, in that case," I take her hand and press her knuckles to my lips, kissing the soft skin with a smirk, "Wanna go on a date with me?"

#top gun #top gun iceman #top gun imagine #top gun: maverick #Tom cruise #request #ask #answer

184 notes · View notes

know-the-way · 3 years

Note

I absolutely need to know your thoughts on the Edward/Zelda/Faustus triangle 👀👀

Sorry this took a minute, but here’s my take from Faustus’ perspective.

Faustus is an only child and grows up with an aggressive dad who thinks appearances matter more than anything else. You do your family proud and succeed or you’re worth nothing.

So Faustus enters the academy on the warpath. “Can’t disappoint dad. Don’t wanna be a failure. I’m gonna make every time I got backhanded in the face actually mean something it if it’s the last thing I do.”

A few years in and Faustus basically runs the joint, so he sets his sights on higher ambitions - rising in the ranks of the church. He’s still a student, though, and he’s got time to strategize. And in walks Edward, a bright young warlock so attuned with the Dark Lord and his power that it practically radiates off of him. What an asset he could be… and surely the young lad needs a guiding presence as he navigates the treacherous waters of the academy?

Oh, happy surprise! Faustus finds himself startled at how easily they get along and how amused he is by Edward’s eagerness to learn. He’s not sure he’s ever been able to discuss things so freely, and with an intellectual equal at that - he’s not sure he’s ever enjoyed someone’s company like this before. Sure, Edward’s impassioned speeches about “making a difference” and “changing things for the better” are a bit eye-rollingly idealistic, but he’ll grow of that. He’ll help him to.

There’s little Faustus teaches him that Edward doesn’t master and Edward is so interested in learning more, learning from him. It makes him feel so… important… needed… valued. Is this what having a brother is?

Lucky that Faustus had no true siblings as they would have been inevitably pitted against each other, a fight to the death for power in their family name. Whereas the Spellmans seem to find balance between competition and compassion. Odd of them, truly, but he can’t deny that when he visits their home, it feels… good. Seeing how Edward’s sisters fawn over him with sparkles in their eyes that are equal parts admiration and gratitude. And how Edward speaks so fondly of them in return. Yes, he… he thinks he rather likes the idea of family. Plotting and scheming is only made sweeter when you have others to do it with, isn’t it?

He remembers having a fair few conversations with the eldest Spellman daughter over the years. He found himself surprised that she often knew even more than Edward on most of the more advanced magic. She was clever and cunning, that girl, and watching how her mind worked was truly fascinating, as was much everything else about her.

He can’t quite pinpoint when the switch occurred, and over the years he’ll wonder if he just always felt this way, but he knows something changed not long after her dark baptism. Witnessing the induction of a new witch in the coven was always a transcendent experience, but the way Zelda’s eyes turned ablaze and her muscles shook as the power bestowed by the Dark Lord settled into her… it was simply breathtaking. He’d never see another look so alive. She was special, he could feel it, and being close to her stirred something inside him he’d never quite be able to name, but he knew it just felt… right. He was better with her by his side, unstoppable even. Their legacy was going to be legendary.

But what feels off is how suddenly Edward withdraws now. His friend and partner has become increasingly irritable and he can’t for the life of him figure out why. Faustus disagrees with some of his more outlandish ideals, of course, but they’ve not ever properly quarreled their entire relationship. He mentions it to Zelda during a midnight rendezvous in the gardens and curiously, she tells him Edward is treating her the same.

And oh… oh, lol. He gets it. So Edward is jealous, then? Lmao, what a silly silly goose that boy is. He’s afraid Faustus is going to abandon him. Oh, it’s precious, really. Especially when Faustus has just picked out the finest oak box for the turtle dove hearts he plans to give his sister. They’ll be family forever now. Brothers for real! And when Faustus becomes high priest, Edward will be his right-hand man, he’ll be sure of it. In this together, just like always! I mean, he’s on top always because #DaddyIssues, but he’ll let them share in his glory, of course he will. He’s a very generous young man. Yes, this will fix everything, he’ll just go tell Edward the good news now.

Um… okay. So that didn’t go as planned. Despite being attached to his teat the past several years, Faustus suddenly does not meet Edward’s apparently very high standards? Because he wants to marry Zelda? He said she doesn’t want to marry Faustus and she never will? (Not what she said last night, but sure okay.) And he’s threatened a hex on him if he continues to try and see her? He’s not welcome at the Spellman home anymore? Uhhhh? Okay? The fuck????

Sure enough, when he tries to speak to Zelda the next day, his mouth clamps shut so hard that it draws blood. When he tries to write her, the paper turns to ash. She begins to look at him indifferently, resentfully. He can’t stand it. And Edward… old friend, you couldn’t care less, could you?

Impressive, truly, when he gives it a good think. Edward siphoned off Faustus’ knowledge and reputation for years, saw how blindingly brilliant the glory was waiting for them, and decided to take it for his own. It’s Faustus’ own fault really, he let the virtues of the False God lead him astray. Kindness and generosity, friendship and loyalty… sacrilege. He should have been saturated in the Dark Lord’s tenants of deceit and pride, like Edward. A true son of Satan. His absolute dick of a father had been right all along - even those closest to you will eat you alive. Shame he didn’t listen - his future children will know better. May he never let his faith waiver again.

Many years later, when he enters his office as high priest for the first time, it’s mere days after Edward’s death and remnants of his old friend are everywhere. He’ll never fully get over the pivot Edward made on him in their youth, but they had regained a civil camaraderie as time went by. Edward appointed him as head of the Parrish council - sought his input on plans of grandeur. (Faustus disagreed with him at nearly every turn, his aspirations for the church becoming more and more outrageous over time, but hey.) And after returning from studying abroad for several years, Faustus found he could speak to Zelda again. He could even touch her, hold her. It was never fully the same, too many years of walls being built and questions unanswered (“why did you leave?” “why didn’t you fight for me?” “did it ever mean anything?”), but having her at arms length - being able to bury his face in her hair and slide his lips down her neck - was better than not having her at all. However, if ever his mind wandered back to matrimony, a jolt in his spine would remind him of his place. He watched as Zelda was maneuvered by her brother for decades… a perfect pawn for his agenda that she rarely even believed in herself. It was infuriating. Edward didn’t keep Zelda from him for her sake, he kept her because she was a vital asset to him. Clever little twat, he was.

Even still. In the quiet of the office they had once both coveted, Faustus can hear the echoes of he and Edward’s youth - their laughter, their triumphs, their discoveries - and a swell of emotion rises within him. With an unsteady hand pressed to the flat of Edward’s desk - his desk - he pointedly clears his throat and whispers, “Rest well, brother.”

(And then “but also trolololol I will be destroying your entire legacy now m8, get fucked ya nonce *blows raspberry*”)

TL;DR 10/10 Faustus would smash, and he has a complicated sort of affection for you, but ultimately he’s just not that into you, Ed.

(Also, he and Edward drunkenly made out a few times at parties, but ya know… the important emotional shit is above.)

#faustus blackwood #edward spellman #zelda spellman #spellwood #headcanon

12 notes · View notes