#i asked cam if the fourth one was too much and they said no so..... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

azsazz · 2 years

Text

Come Back

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel is late coming back from a mission but you’ve already told your sons that he’d be back tonight. Tantrum’s ensue.

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 1,522

_________________________________________

“Come on my loves,” you nearly plead, “Daddy will be home tomorrow.”

The two young boys pout in their beds, eyes brimming with tears.

“But you said Daddy would be home tonight,” the older of the two wails, slamming his little fists on his bed in protest. Tiny shadows flutter from his hands and fade into mist. Wren, older than his brother by a year, has started to manifest shadows like his father. He couldn’t control them yet, was scared when he first saw them, then remembered his father’s shadows. You’d never seen the little boy so proud, bragging to his cousins that he was ‘just like Daddy.’

You’re exhausted. Taking care of your two sons while Azriel was away on a mission was never easy, but paired with the fact that they hadn’t napped well earlier in the day because they were too excited about their father coming home today, getting them to go to sleep wasn’t an easy feat.

The Shadowsinger must be sidetracked. Before he had left for his assignment, he mentioned the timeframe he thought he would be back by, and you had made the mistake of telling your sons that he’d return in time to tuck them in for bed tonight.

As the younger one bursts into tears, seeing his brother’s dewey eyes, you shut your own tight for a moment, thinking of all the relaxing things you can muster. In all honesty, you’d like to start crying right alongside them. You hadn’t had a single moment of peace since he left. And sure, the rest of the Inner Circle were around to help, but you never liked to hassle them asking for help.

“Babes,” you try gently, pulling Baz – the three year-old – into your arms and shushing him lightly, soothing your fingers through his dark hair and rocking him softly in his bed. Wren climbs out of his own and into his brothers, curling up close to your side. “You know your father has to work. We’ve talked about this.”

“We want him here,” Wren cries into your shirt, “With us!”

Baz wipes the dripping snot on his arm, “Yeah!”

“And he will be here with you tomorrow,” you explain again for the fourth time since they found out he wasn’t going to be back in time. “And I know that he’s missing you little monsters too,” you say playfully, attacking your two sons with kisses. Their tears turn into cries of laughter and you’re thankful, would much rather be dealing with happy babies than sad ones.

You get them back into their own beds eventually, settling them down with one more story before you’re moving towards the door to turn the lights out.

“Mommy?” Wren’s voice is timid, and when you turn around he has his blankets pulled up tightly to his chin, his big hazel eyes staring at you with concern.

“Yes baby?”

“Promise Daddy will be back tomorrow?”

Your heart clenches, thinking for a moment where there could be a day your mate is sent off on a mission that he doesn’t come back from. The thought makes you sick to your stomach.

Fortunately, you don’t have to respond, don’t have to lie to your child or think of a way to avoid answering his question because a familiar body is sweeping into the room, a loving smile on his face. “What if he’s here right now?”

The squeals pierce your ears, the brothers climbing out of their beds and running into Azriel’s arms. You try and plaster a smile to your face as he sends his shadows over to you, acknowledging that he knows you’re here too. One tugs at your wrist, urging you to join the hug but your stomach is in knots, stuck thinking about what would happen if the Shadowsinger didn’t return from an assignment.

Your mate's eyes look at you with concern, his shadows probably have already filled him in on the look on your face right before he entered the room, or you could have sent that feeling down the bond to him by accident.

You and Azriel had a pretty open way of communicating when it came to the bond, aside from when he was on missions, the bond was an open passageway, free for you to send any and all feelings down whenever you wanted.

The fact that your walls were still up now that he’d returned has him a bit worried.

The frustration, the exhaustion, the fear, have all built up, choosing to make their appearance now. You know you should’ve taken up Cassian’s offer to train the other day when you had started feeling worn down by your sons, hell, you could’ve even had the Warlord wrestle around with the two tiny half-Illyrians you birthed. You should’ve taken time for yourself, but now it was too late.

You tug your wrist away from the shadow curled around it. Your motion isn’t harsh, the opposite, in fact. Another sign to your mate that something is bothering you.

“Go, get in bed,” the Spymaster ushers gently, nudging the babes away. Baz stumbles as he races by you, straightening himself with a hand on your leg and a slobbery smile aimed up at you.

It settles your heart a little.

Azriel places a hand on your cheek stroking lovingly, his eyes soft, questioning. You shake your head slightly, trying to offer a sense of reassurance down the bond, but nothing. He kisses you tenderly on your forehead and you let yourself clutch at the leathers he still wears, sans the weapons. Breathing in his scent like a breath of life, it helps calm you further.

“I drew a bath for you,” he whispers, and he can see just how worn out you are by the look on your face. “Go ahead, I’ll take care of them.”

Your shoulders sag in relief. You should ask him if he wants you to stay, to help tuck in the stubborn babes behind you, but you’re so thankful to finally get a moment alone that you don’t even offer.

Kissing the little boys on their foreheads with warnings of being good for their father, you’re leaving, making your way across the hall and into the bathroom. Your heart melts. There’s flower petals and candles all around the tub that’s steaming with hot water and smells like eucalyptus.

You strip out of your own clothes, not caring where they land as you glide towards the inviting water. You dip your foot in and sigh, it’s the perfect temperature.

Settling in, you lean your head back and close your eyes, the tension ebbing from your body. You inhale the luxurious scent, hold, exhale, and then inhale again. You haven’t felt like you’d even had time to get cleaned up properly. Baz was at the phase where he’d bang on the door and cry constantly if you or Azriel weren’t somewhere nearby.

And now with Wren showing signs of having shadows of his own, your life was about to become a lot more hectic.

The Shadowsinger slips into the bathroom, shutting the door quietly behind him. You watch him shove his way out of his leathers, admiring his sculpted body as he does so. You make room for him and he settles in behind you, pulling you back to lean into his chest.

The two of you just sit for a moment, relishing in the warmth from both the bath and the bond, your bodies pressed close, right where you belong. Having him back is comforting, and everytime he returns is like the day when your bond made itself known, the air catching in your throat and feeling like you can finally see clearly.

“What’s wrong?” he eventually murmurs against the skin behind your ear, pecking you on the neck.

“Wren asked me to promise you’d be here in the morning,” you explain quietly, trailing a hand aimlessly up and down his forearm that’s draped around you. “And it had me thinking,” your breath hitches, “What if you don’t come back to us some day?”

His arms tighten around you instantly, holding you closer to his chest. His shadows go still and it’s completely silent.

“I’ll always come back to you three.” It sounds like a promise, but the words don’t settle that feeling in your stomach. They aren’t a guarantee.

You swallow back the tears in your throat. “You don’t know that.”

He flips you around in his arms, taking your face in both of his. His eyes are as scared as yours, and it’s possible he’s thought of this before, on his own.

“Then I’ll quit.”

“You can’t,” you protest, shaking your head.

“Why not? I’ve been doing this for nearly six hundred years now,” he says, “I should be allowed to retire.”

“You wouldn’t handle retirement well and we both know that Az.” You trace the expanse of his face, thumbing over his thick eyebrows, his soft lips. “I worry. The kids worry. It’s a lot.”

“I know it is darling,” he catches your wrist, kissing it harshly, “But my family means more to me than any job ever will.”

#azriel #azrielxreader #azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acomar #shadowsinger #spymaster #mating bond #mate #babies #babybats #daddyaz #dad!azriel #azs_azz

1K notes · View notes

erodasfishtacos · 3 years

Note

harry adores yn with his entire being and i can tell that she loves him just as much but the poor thing is just so scared, and by what you have showed us she has a fair reason to have struggles

Through Hell and Back

warnings: cheating, mentions of domestic violence, this could just be overall triggering if you have experienced trauma or family struggles.

this is a very important blurb to understand dynamic and history of the characters.

PLEASE let me know your thoughts.

—

Harry’s out at a bachelor party for his friend, Jack, at a noisy bar downtown where there is a mechanical bull and half-naked waitresses.

His phone rings at two-thirty in the morning, he already knows who it is and why she’s calling him so late.

He steps outside the noisy bar, “Hi puppy, y’alright?”

Harry already knew she wasn’t.

Her voice is shaky, “Er, are you still out at the bachelor party?”

If he says yes, she’ll just try to say have fun and was just calling to check in - a lie because she felt like such an inconvenience at all times.

“No, just got home,” He lied smoothly, he could hear her trying to hide a sniffle - she must have had a bad dream.

Every since she started trauma therapy, they’d been getting worse, as she worked through her struggles with a therapist.

—

“I-I don’t want to g-go in,” YN whimpers as she sits in Harry’s passenger side outside the clinic, “I can’t talk about it.”

“Baby, you need to do this. You need to talk to someone who’s trained to help you, okay? You promised you’d try it f’me,” He hums, rubbing a thumb over her wet cheekbone.

She shakes her head stubbornly, “It’s all going to come back.”

“Yes, it will. Because you didn’t work through it, you repressed it. There is a difference, okay?” Harry’s heart feels like it’s being ripped in two as YN looks like a caged animal.

YN squeezes Harry’s hand so hard it hurts but he doesn’t mind, he can feel her fear being shared through the rough touch.

She wipes her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater, “Please, H. I don’t want to remember.”

He sighs softly, “I would never force you to do something you don’t want to do. If you really want to leave, we can.”

YN searches his eyes, sees his sadness and she knows she has to push through because she loves him so much, “Will you walk me in?”

“Of course, s’fucking proud of you. My strong girl,” Harry praises, kissing the top of her head, and shutting off the car.

He walks her in, watches her as she hesitantly goes back in with her new therapist, and sits in the waiting room for the hour and a half until she comes out.

He does that every week without miss.

Drives her, walks her in, sits in the waiting room, and then drives her home.

She doesn’t usually talk much after the sessions, her eyes swollen and puffy which is a telltale sign she cried during the appointment.

Harry holds her hand on the ride home, sometimes draws her a bath or tucks her in for a nap under his covers.

One day, after therapy, they crawled into his bed together. She hadn’t said one word since she walked out of the office but she looks tiredly at Harry.

“Why?”

Harry frowns, “Why what?”

She hides her face into the fluffy pillow, words mumbled, “Why do you want me? I’m so broken.”

“Hey,” Harry responds loudly, pulling her up and giving her a serious look, “You are not broken. Even if you were, I’d love every broken piece, okay? I want you because I’m so in love with you it doesn’t make sense.”

YN shakes her head, “I don’t deserve you. You-you have to drive me to therapy every week, leave work early, have to make it up the next day.”

And well, his heart breaks a little because she truly believes that.

Harry grips her jaw, gently, “If you need to go to therapy for the rest of your life, I’ll drive you until I’m ninety. I’ll drive you five days a week if you need it.”

He continues,“I don’t deserve you, sweet girl. Strongest, bravest, most resilient person I’ve ever met. You are my soulmate and I believe that wholeheartedly.”

“I want to nap now,” She whispers, crawling back into her shell where she’s safe from the world, from facing her fears.

Harry just stares at her, the girl he’s had a crush on since fourth grade, the girl he’d been in love with since ninth.

When she felt broken, well so did he.

—

“Mum, I want to do more for her,” Harry cries to his mother one night at dinner after school.

“I know you do, Harry. There is only so much you can do. She has parents tha-“

“Those aren’t parents, mum! You know that!” He shouts angrily, “I need to do more for her. Help her!”

Anne looks at him with a soft, understanding expression, “You’re doing all you can, Harry.”

—

He was still doing all he can.

“I wa-was wondering if you wanted to come over and watch a movie?” YN acts casual despite the tremor but he won’t call her on it - on the phone at least.

“I’d love to pup, I’ll be over on a tick,” already walking away from the busy bar.

Harry can hear the relief in her voice when she says, “Okay, I’ll see you soon.”

When he uses his key to open the door, she sat on her couch with all the lights in the house on, not one off.

“Oh, pet,” Harry murmurs, all the blinds were drawn shut and he knew she’d already triple checked that the windows were locked - despite the state of the art security system he had installed for her.

“Um, so are we feeling a scary movie or romcom?” She ignores his words, picking up the remote, and pulling up Netflix.

He flicks a couple of the bright lights off until it’s normal dim and he sits next to her on the couch, taking the remote and turning off the television.

“Talk t’me,” Harry coaxes, unraveling her from the heavy weighted blanket, and tugging her into his chest.

“M’fine,” YN lies on a choked whimper.

“Y’safe, you know I’d never let anythin’ happen to you . Please puppy, tell me,” He’s not to manly to beg for her to open up.

He allows her to nuzzle her face into his neck, “He cam-came back an-and he -,” her voice drops, “broke in here and I wo-woke up as he was opening my door.”

Harry holds her for a very long time that night.

With Harry and her therapist’s constant encouragement she’d been able to be more open and up front with Harry - which made him feel unexaplainably proud of her.

Anna almost fucked everything up, all the hard work without even realizing it.

It was nearly three in the morning this time.

Harry was stuck at Anna’s house with her and her friends for a movie night.

He’d gotten up to go to the bathroom when his phone rings.

Anna sees who it is and picks it up, “What do you want? Harry’s busy and doesn’t have time for you right now. You know it’s not all about you, right?”

Then she hangs up, all of her and her friends giggling at how she just treated YN.

Harry is unaware of the call for a few minutes when he gets back until he gets a text from YN.

I’m sorry I bothered you. I am okay. Have fun tonight x

He scrolls through his phone in confusion until he sees the call, he glares over at Anna, “Did you answer my phone?”

She has a cocky look on her face, “Yeah, I told YN that the world doesn’t revolve around her and to leave us alone.”

All the friends are giggling - but that comes to an abrupt halt when Harry stands up, knocking over the little table of drinks with his anger, “Where the fuck did you get the idea that you could touch my phone, let alone answer it?”

All of them are quiet.

He scoffs, “Now all you annoying prats are going shut up? Get the fuck out of my way,” he orders to Anna who’s pouting.

“C’mon, it was a joke. Don’t leave,” She whines, grabbing at Harry’s arm which he instantly rips out of her grip.

“Don’t touch me. I can’t fuckin’ stand you,” He tells her honestly before storming out of her house without a look back at her teary face.

When he arrives at YN’s house, a book is automatically been hurled at the front door when he opens it, then another.

“Hey, puppy, stop tha’. S’just me, you’re okay. S’just me,” He coos, rearming the security system to make her feel better.

She is only in one of his shirts with the company logo on it and soft cotton boy shorts, hair frizzy atop her head.

“Y’have another nightmare?” Harry asks softly, all the lights were on again, every single one.

YN clenches her jaw, “No.”

He hardens his expression too, “I was in the bathroom when she answered that call. As soon as I found out, I came over here. Don’t be sour with me.”

“I didn’t have a nightmare.”

“I know y’bloody lying because your legs are still tremblin’. Now cut the bullshit and talk t’me, we’re not going backwards,” Harry tells her seriously, with all firmness he can muster.

“I love you.”

It takes him aback. YN told him how much she adored him but it was something that didn’t come easy for her.

To hear it flat out, well….he nearly almost melted on the floor into a pile of goop.

“I love you too, puppy.”

She takes a deep breathe, “It’s been that same nightmare, but it’s not really a nightmare? It’s a flashback to…”

YN swallows before she continues, “Remember when….when I ran from my parent’s house to yours and my dad came and found me…”

Harry doesn’t want to remember but he does.

—-

“Harry, he-he just pulled up,” YN cries, peeking out his window, “I don’t want to go home.”

“Harry, he’s screaming at your mum. I have to go.”

“Harry, I have to go before he does something stupid. I’ll be okay, I promise.”

“Harry, don’t cry. I’ll be fine, he’s just really upset. I’ll just deal with it and it will be over before we know it, okay?”

——

“I remember,” He wavers like he normally doesn’t, feeling like a helpless sixteen year old again.

It was moments like this were no matter how hard he wanted to be angry or scream at her for making their relationship so difficult, that he couldn’t be.

How could he blame her for her commitment issues?

Why she struggles to trust?

Why she never feels good enough?

“I’m sorry to bring that up-“

“Do not apologize,” Harry interrupts, “I want to know everything you experience or feel no matter how traumatic or upsetting.”

YN despite her own struggles, when she heard Harry say things like that…well she knew full heartedly that he loves her with no conditions.

She knew this was so hard on him, “I am so in love with you, H.”

His eyes automatically soften and he reacts like he’s being praised. His face lights up without him even knowing it does.

“I’ve been in love with you since I was sixteen, thank you for being my person. I appreciate everything you do for me.”

It was something she had been also working on in therapy, expressing gratitude- specifically to Harry.

And it works because Harry actually starts tearing up, eyes watering with emotion, “I love you. I’d walk through hell and back for you.”

He would and he has.

#harry styles #harry styles writing #update #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fic rec #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles x y/n #Harry styles angst #cheating!harry blurb #cheating!harry #cheating!harry masterlist

869 notes · View notes

marvelettesassemblenow · 3 years

Text

Losing Composure

Pairing: Steve x Femal Avenger Reader

Summary: Losing a bet with Bucky you had to wear a USO girl costume to deliver something to Steve. Steve lost his composure and suddenly things went awkward

Word Count: ~3.3k

Warnings: the media isn’t nice to reader, anxiety on Bucky’s part, blood and detailed description of nose bleeding, kiss cam, emotional exhaustion

A/N: I’m currently writing on a modern AU Bucky mini series and while I really like my Steve there (it’s Steve, I will ALWAYS like him) it reminded me that I had started this piece and I finally finished it. I’m sorry, Steve!

“I hate you so much, Barnes,” you mumbled and tried to pull the dress a little bit more down before you entered the communal kitchen where you knew you target would be. You didn’t dare to look up until you stood in front of him and tipped his shoulder and tried to ignore the other people in the room.

“I have a special delivery for our savior Captain America,” you said in a not so enthusiastic voice and put your hand on your forehead in a salute. Nothing could’ve prepared you what happened next. If someone would have told you that Steve Rogers aka Captain America would spat water in your face you would have laughed it off. But now you stood in front of him, your hand still in the ridiculous pose while you had a folder in your other hand and as you blinked water started to drip from your eyelashes to your face and onto the folder.

While you stood there still in shock as did the person in front of you, you heard loud laughter. “This was better than anything I’ve imagined,” you could hear Bucky's voice.

Steve suddenly grabbed a towel and started to wipe your face with it and held it out to you when he noticed your décolleté would have been next and even in shock Steve was still a gentleman. You took the towel from him and pushed the folder onto his chest. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know... I would have never,” his glance flew over your outfit. “What are you wearing? Not that you aren’t allowed to wear what you want, but...” Steve started to ramble and was afraid he had dug his own hole.

“Ugh this stupid bet I had with Bucky,” you mumbled while you still tried to get rid of the wetness.

“Hey, do you know how long it took me to find an USO girl costume?” Bucky chimed in with laughter still in his voice.

“Not long, because the texture is awful,” you rebutted and he admitted that it didn’t take him five minutes. “If you excuse me, I still have some deliveries to do,” you turned around and walked out of the kitchen. Steve stared after you until he remembered the folder in his hand. On it was a big print that said confidential and when he opened it he saw only one piece of paper which said “you’re welcome, punk”. He turned to Bucky who just winked at him.

“Well, you could have handled that smoother,” he said and Steve slapped the back of his friend's head before he left the room. He didn’t know where to go, the only thing he knew was that he couldn’t handle Bucky's comments right now.

“Are you sure you are okay?” Steve heard you asking Bucky for probably the fourth time since you had started your trip.

“I'm okay, you can stop your mother hen mode now,” Bucky assured you and while Steve knew Bucky was annoyed, he also knew that he wasn’t really bothered. And he couldn’t help the warm feeling that was spreading through him. Your caring self was one of the things he loved most about you. And it wasn’t even that you were on your way to a mission or anything like that, you were just making a trip to town, but you knew that Bucky got quickly overwhelmed by the amount of people around him.

“Here, hold my hand and squeeze if it gets too much,” you offered and Steve noticed the quick glance Bucky sent his way before he grabbed your offered hand.

“You have a second hand, can I hold it? Or would you rather like it, if Steve would step in?” Sam said and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Or I could use my free hand to punch you in the face, what about that?” you said coolly and Bucky chuckled.

“Nah, I don’t think you will,” Sam said confidentially, but Steve noticed that he left some space next to you.

Maybe your reaction was a little harsh, but the teasing you had to endured since your lost bet was immense. The video of Steve spitting water over you had been going around a lot and you wanted to punch whoever had shown Bucky how to make a meme. You though it had been Sam so the punch would serve for two purposes.

But if you were embarrassed it was nothing close to how Steve felt! He was the one who had lost control over his body. A mission with too many opponents to count? No problem. Jumping from a plane without a parachute? His heart would beat a little faster but that would be it. But seeing you in that outfit had caused his body to start sweating, his heart to beat faster and his brain to turn off for a second, hence the embarrassing moment.

Steve was actually glad that the teasing had turned down this day and was replaced with excitement for the baseball game you were about to watch. He just wanted to enjoy this little trip with his childhood friend, his new found friend and of course you.

You and Bucky were in front with Sam and Steve trailing behind. After the security check you split up, while you and Sam decided to use the bathroom before the game him and Bucky would get snacks and drinks. Steve had problems holding everything in his arms and avoiding a collision with other fans while he waited for the two of you.

You almost walked into him when you tried to avoid a very enthusiastic fan, but luckily Sam caught the cup which was about to fall from Steves arm. “Oh no, we don’t want you spilling your drink over her again, right?” he smirked and took a sip from the cup while you groaned and Steves face changed its color.

The four of you managed to get to your seats without much trouble. You had told the three guys they were looking stupid with their disguise as they were all wearing caps and now that you sat on your actual place between Steve and Bucky, you saw that a lot of people had caps on their heads. You squinted your eyes when the sun shone directly in your face. Steve noticed your distress and placed his cap on your head.

“Thank you,” you said with a bright smile and looked in his direction. Steve who was busy looking at you and replied with a “it isn’t a problem, honey” didn’t saw Bucky and Sam looking at each other with raised brows. They too noticed that the nickname was new.

“I have no clue about baseball,” you admitted just a little bit before the game started.

“Why did you come then?” Sam asked with his mouth full of food and you handed a napkin over Bucky towards him, but he didn’t get the hint.

“Because I also wanted to go out and wanted to have a nice afternoon,” you defended yourself and you left the part out that you joined because you knew how big of a baseball fan Steve was.

“Don’t worry, I’ll explain everything to you,” Steve offered immediately and took you out of the spotlight.

Steve stayed true to his word (as if you had expected anything less) and you had to admit that you enjoyed it. You didn’t know if it was the sport or if it was Steve’s enthusiasm while explaining that swept over to you. Bucky chimed in here and there and before you knew it the break was there.

“Oh, the Kiss Cam,” you laughed and took the last sip of your now warm drink.

“Just to make it clear, if it lands on us I’m not kissing Bucky. I can already imagine the headlines,” Sam was munching on a pretzel now that he had managed to get.

“Did you also noticed that his only problem is the headline and nothing about the kiss,” you whispered to Steve and he let out a light chuckle. And as if Sam had provoked it the cam landed on the four of you and the commentator announced that some of the avengers were at the games. Steve waved awkwardly at the camera.

“Oh that’s not what a kiss cam is for,” Sam announced and started to crawl over Bucky, who started to complain. He kissed your cheek and went back to his place. “Told you I wouldn’t kiss Barnes. This is how you do it, Rogers,” he said and went back to eating his snack. You were about to turn towards Steve but were surprised when suddenly lips landed on the cheek that Sam had just kissed. Before you could comprehend that Bucky had just kissed you publicly (and grabbed your hand afterward, probably because he only felt overwhelmed when he noticed how many people were watching him then) another pair of lips were pressed onto the other side of your cheek, dangerously close to your lips.

The skin there started to tingle and before you could comment on anything that had just happened fans stood in front of you asking for a picture with Captain America. Soon enough you were taking photos for fans and when someone asked for a photo with the four of you and Steve threw one long arm around your shoulder you couldn’t help to feel like there were butterflies flying in your stomach.

You weren’t a fan of press conferences, never were, but after an accident a few months back you didn’t attend them anymore. You knew that it had to be done, but standing in the spotlight and having to explain why you acted a certain way was not your idea of fun. But when one reporter started to ask you questions about your suit and underwear you weren’t sure if you should become angry or if you shouldn’t say anything at all.

Before you could even say anything about it Steve had exploded. Calm, collected Captain America stood in front of the press and gave them a piece of their mind how they dared to be so disrespectful. It had shocked not only the reporters, but also you and some of the other team members attending. Steve had ended the press conference then and stormed off the stage.

So he was more than surprised when he stood dressed in a black suit in front of many cameras and the door flew open with you sprinting towards him, his shield and stealth suit in your arms. “You have to change, we have a situation right now,” you said once you were in a hearing range. He took the suit from your arms and left the shield where it was, turned around and followed a guy pointing towards a room.

It didn’t take long for him to change into his other suit, he had slipped it on more than he could count. You were waiting outside in one hand the shield in the other his helmet. “What are we up against?” he asked once he stepped out of the room and strapped his helmet on.

“Inhuman activity in the city. Sam, Tony, Vision and Rhodey are already on their way, the rest of us is picking you up. We weren’t quite sure what we were facing so we decided we should be all on board,” you informed him while walking next to him and gave him his shield.

“Thanks,” he said once he secured it and followed you to the jet.

In hindsight it was good that you had picked up Steve. There were no big injuries in the team, but the buildings had taken a lot of damage. And the super soldiers came kind of handy to pick up the rumbles and free the civilians. It was exhausting: first the fight, then the rescuing and the emotional side finally caught up with you. You sat down on a staircase after calming down a kid and bringing him back to his mother.

“Are you okay?” Steves voice caused you to raise your head from your hands.

“Yeah, I just needed a moment to breathe,” you admitted. He sat down on the step next to you and placed the shield in front of you. “I feel like the people forget it isn’t only the fight against what comes our way. There are always casualties and it’s not like you can shrug and say ‘well I can’t change a thing now’. There are always the thoughts late at night if I could have been faster could something like that be avoided and it’s just... it’s draining, Steve,” you admitted.

“I know,” Steve put an arm around your shoulder and you pressed your head against his chest. “But you can’t forget the other side. What about the ones that we rescued?”

“Yeah, I know. Let’s just stay like this for a minute, okay?” Steve nodded and you felt the movement and then he placed his head on yours. His hand still caressing your arm. He waited for you to let go of the hug first. “Okay, let’s get back to work,” you said and held out your hand for him to take and to help him up, although you both knew he didn’t need it. He took it anyway.

The next Mrs. America?

We don’t know much about the private life's of the Avengers, especially Steve Rogers aka Captain America isn’t known for being very open about his personal life. But is there a woman by his side that we all know? Pictures speak louder than words. As you can see on the picture shown above the Captain has thrown his arm around his fellow Avenger after the battle on last Tuesday and they look very intimate. The shield the government has him provided is lying carelessly on the ground.

Before that a press conference with Captain America was interrupted by said woman who walked in holding his shield. Have we ever seen the shield in the hand of anybody else than him? No. So there must be a deeper connection between them. Also we can’t forget about the fact when he lost his calm facade the last time she was asked a question at a press conference which was ended by him afterwards.

We can’t wait to see what happens next and hope that Captain America won’t forget about his country because of a woman.

“This is bullshit,” you exclaimed when you put away your tablet. You couldn’t bring yourself to read the rest of the article.

“I’ve carried and used the shield in a battle,” Natasha said.

“It also wasn’t the government who gave it to him,” Tony scoffed.

“And I’m not the next Mrs. America,” you put in.

“Well you could be,” Bucky said from the side.

“What?” You turned around to look at him.

“I don’t think Steve is opposed to the idea,” Bucky shrugged.

“Steve would also never forget about his country and I hope he never has to read this bullshit.” You were glad that he was currently on a mission with Sam.

“The picture is cute, though,” Nat said. Well, she was right, but you wouldn’t admit that out loud.

After the article dropped you distanced yourself from Steve a little bit more and completely when you were in public. Of course Steve had seen the article, but the two of you didn’t discuss it.

So when you were at the next charity event you still kept your distance. It was a volleyball match and the Avengers had their own team. To make it fair it only consisted of people without super strength that meant Steve and Bucky were sitting on a bank as moral support while you, Sam, Nat, Tony and Wanda made your way over to the field.

“This is getting ridiculous, Steve! How long will you avoid her?” Bucky asked when the team was out of earshot and it was only him and his friend.

“It’s just this stupid article. It really hurt her feelings and it wasn’t professional from me to explode and,” he started but Bucky interrupted him.

“Stop it. The article was bullshit. And it was absolutely disgusting that they asked her that question. You’re just human and wanted to protect her, I get it. But stop avoiding her. You were the one telling me that I shouldn’t give any fuck,” he got a gaze from Steve that told him he should watch his language, “about any articles about me. Maybe you should listen to yourself.”

Bucky turned around and watched the players now who greeted each other. It was a mix of people that neither Steve or Bucky really knew. Some kid was a singer or something like that and was a bit starstruck to meet Black Widow. The game started and as neither of the teams were professional volleyball players it looked that way. But the Avengers were competitive people – especially Natasha and Tony and so it wasn’t really a surprise that you won the first game.

The second round was a bit harder and when you were two minutes into the game you didn’t see the ball coming your way as the sun was blinding you. Your head was pushed backwards when the ball connected with your face and a second later you were on the ground. When you weren’t up again a few seconds later Steve was up his feet and made his way to you. Natasha was already kneeling next to you and he kneeled on the other side of you. Blood was gushing out of your nose and you looked a bit dazed.

A medic was approaching but Natasha and Steve blocked her way to you and she was a bit intimidated when none of them made a move to leave your side. She held out a piece of bandage that the spy took from her and pressed it under your nose while Steve took a cooling pack and pressed it in your neck. “Are you dizzy? Do you need to throw up?” he asked you.

When they made sure you just needed to sit down for a while Steve picked you up and carried you to the benches where Bucky was waiting. He stepped in for you and he shared a gaze with Steve that didn’t slip your attention. “It wasn’t his fault Bucky,” you said while you still pressed the bandage under your nose.

“’Course,” Bucky replied and made his way on the field. Steve didn’t want to let go of you and you both didn’t fit on the bench so he sat the both of you down on the floor, him behind you and you between his legs while he still held the cooling pack and put the other arm around your torso.

“You feel better?” he asked after a while.

You hummed, too content to form a full sentence. The bleeding had stopped and you breathed through your mouth, but Steve’s one arm that radiated warmth felt too good around you. “I miss you,” you admitted then. If it was the blood loss or maybe finally being near Steve again you didn’t know what caused the admission.

And Steve didn’t know what cause it, maybe it was having you relaxed near him after such a long time, but he admitted that he missed you too. “You wanna get dinner with me tonight?” he surprised you and him.

“Just you and me?”

“Yeah, just us,” Steve whispered in your ear and his breath caressed you sweaty skin. But when it came to Steve you never felt uncomfortable even if you were covered in sweat.

“I’d really like that.” Your breath hitched when Steve lips connect softly with your skin and just then you looked at Bucky who smirked. You weren’t sure if it was because he just witnessed the kiss or if it was because he had pushed the ball into the face of the man who had hit you. But he yelled a “sorry,” over the field and winked at you.

Masterlist

divider by @fireflygraphics

#steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve x y/n #steve rogers x y/n #avenger x reader #steve rogers oneshot #steve rogers os #captain america x you #captain america x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america oneshot #marvelettesassemblenow

316 notes · View notes

slytherweasley · 3 years

Text

Cam girl (George Weasley x reader)

Warnings: Smut and swearing

Summary: George logs onto his computer every week at the same time to watch his favourite cam girl because she reminds him of a girl he used to have a crush on at Hogwarts. One day he decides to pay to private message her and she responds.

George logs onto his computer at 10pm, the same time every Monday, Tuesday and Friday. Today’s Friday, the last day of the week until he has to wait until Monday. For the past month George has been watching a cam girl, she goes by Honey but that’s not her name. The thing that excites George about it all is that she’s anonymous, no one knows what she looks like under the mask.

You setup your computer so the webcam can get everything, you find all the toys you want to use and line them up. You put on your mask and watch the time as it hits 10pm and press stream. The viewers get transferred to your livestream. People assume everyone there is old men but you’ve seen pictures in private messages and some of them are quite good looking. Your job isn’t all sex, for the first 10 minutes you have conversations with the viewers and sometimes people just want to private message you to have some company.

George has never typed anything in the chat before because he’s too nervous too, he doesn’t know what to say. He watches you as you sit on the bed and answer comments from the live chat. He originally clicked on your stream because you reminded him of a girl he used to have a crush on at Hogwarts. She was in Hufflepuff and he had said only a few words to her but he knew so much about her.

You stop answering questions when you check the time and get ready. You ease into it by touching yourself over your lingerie. George tries to stop himself from touching himself so early in the show but the way you moan and mutter dirty things makes his mind go insane. You start to strip first revealing your breasts and you see the chat comments speed up as more new comments roll in and more viewers tune in. You get an average of 5-25k views, it all depends on the day.

You strip until you’re fully naked and lay down spreading your legs out. You use your fingers to spread your pussy open and tease your clit. George starts to palm himself through his pants. You get out a pink dildo, the men prefer 6-8 inches and bright coloured so you tend to use them but you have a large collection. You get closer to the webcam and lick up the dildo putting it in your mouth and making it wet.

You put it inside you once you’re satisfied with how long you’d been deepthroating it. George pulls his pants and boxers down and touches himself right away, wasting no time. He usually cums twice, it doesn’t take too long for him to get hard after once because he watches the whole show.

You liked doing the show because it is a way to let out all your stress and you have a desirable body that thousands of people want to see and you get generous donations during the livestream and to pay to private message you. You stay up for a few hours after your stream to talk to people because the more you talk the more they spend money on you.

Once you’d cum a few times and filled up the time you end the stream by reminding people about private messages, $5 to talk the whole night. George felt an urge to message you but he decided not tonight, he had to go to work the next day and help Fred with the shop. He took a shower and couldn’t stop thinking about you, he got ready for bed and closed his eyes and realised he couldn’t sleep if he didn’t attempt to message you. It was a couple hours after your show had ended and he decided to message you. You probably get hundreds of messages a night.

Ha pays the money to send a message he types in something simple “Hi, I watch your shows every night” he presses send and waits a bit doing other things, the notification pops up on the corner of his screen and he sees you answered. “Thank you, it means a lot, we haven’t spoken before, have we?” it was polite but George was thrilled you actually answered. He immediately types back “No we haven’t but I’ve been watching for a month now, I never got the courage to even send a live chat until now.”

George stayed up for hours talking to you. You signed off for the night to all the other men in your chats just to talk to him. He seemed like one of the guys who was nice and you were both the same age, he’s 25 as well but you don’t give out your age or actual name. You could pass for younger or older. Every night even when shows weren’t on you’d talk, the more detail you knew about him and the more sexual the conversations were the more you liked him. You’d stay up extra late to talk to him and you found yourself realising you’re getting attached and giving him false hope that you’d meet up one day.

“What’s your real name?” He asks “I can’t tell you, it’s apart of the mystery, besides you haven’t told me your name yet” “I understand and I do prefer not knowing, my name is George just so you know.” Your heart skips a beat and you feel as though you’d been transported back to Hogwarts, you had a huge crush on George Weasley, you didn’t know him well but you fancied him and your friends knew, you had common friends but never became friends. You used to be so shy and that is the one thing you wish you got over sooner so you could become friends with George. As far as you know he’s been doing very well for himself at Weasley’s Wizards Wheezes. You always thought about going in there but thinking about how shy you were makes you feel insecure and shy.

“I love that name, I used to know someone with that name, he was a great person, just like you” you reply “I’ll admit I’m so surprised you’ve been talking to me everyday for a week” “I’ve grown to like you, George.”After talking for another week you couldn’t get him off your mind and you knew that you were in too far.

“I don’t want you to keep paying every night, here’s my number. I trust you enough.” George just assumed you talked to everyone the same as him but you seemed to like him. He saves the number in his phone under Honey.

As the weeks went by, you were talking more than just at night. You became friends and you started to hate that George was calling you Honey. “I wish I could talk to you in person” he types “Why don’t we do it then?” “In person?” “Lets meet up, we can hook up at my place if you’re comfortable” you couldn’t believe you were doing this. “Are you sure? Neither of us know much about each other’s physical appearance, you don’t even know what I look like.” “I don’t care, I’ve fallen for you and we should meet up.” You send him an address to meet up a couple blocks from your house just in case he isn’t as sweet on the internet.

You get there early and stand on the busy street, each man that goes by you get hopeful until you see him, George Weasley standing there looking around for someone. In a matter of seconds everything clicks in your head, you’ve been talking to George Weasley, no wonder you were so in love with this guy you’d just met online. You apparate out of there before he sees you. You get into your apartment and send him a text “I’m so sorry George, I just threw up and I’m not in the mood to see anyone, I hope you know I’m not an asshole.” He texts back almost immediately “I get it, don’t feel bad we can reschedule” “Thank you for understanding.”

The next couple days you ignored his messages and he even tried to contact you on live chat but you wouldn’t message back. “I’m sorry if I wasn’t what you expected, I think I got the message” George knew it seemed weird she would text right as they were supposed to meet, she definitely saw him and ran. Your heart breaks and you feel obligated to message “Are you free right now?” You text back “Why?” “Let’s meet up, same spot and I promise I’ll be there to explain everything” “I’ll be there soon.”

You use magic to clean up your house just in case he isn’t grossed out by you and does want to come back to hook up. You apparate and see he is already there waiting, he seems shocked that you apparated “Honey?” He asks trying to get closer to see your face in the dark. You take a deep breath and get closer to him so he can see your face “Y/n?” “Hi George” “Did you know?” “No, I had no idea until I saw you and got scared so I apparated home.” “What do you think?” “I could ask the same” “I asked you first” “I’ve always fancied you, since about fourth year but I didn’t know you so I didn’t say anything.” “We knew each other just weren’t close” “So what do you think?” “I’ve fancied you since fifth year so I’m happy, I’m shocked though, you were so shy.” “I’m a different person to what I used to be” “I can tell” “So what do you want to do?” “Love, this makes this so much better, let’s go to yours.”

You take his hand and apparate him into your apartment. You help take off his coat and lead him to your bedroom. “Wow, this looks so much cooler in person” “It’s probably because you’ve only seen one wall of the room.” He walks around “Do you want to see the toys?” He nods and you open up a few drawers full of them. “Wow, that’s a lot, do you ever use magic?” “Sometimes if I’m tired of doing it myself but never on camera.”

You make the first move and kiss George, his lips are cold but your warm lips pressed to his feels nice. “Can I undress you?” “Of course, just promise me you won’t treat me differently now you know I’m me” “No way, I get to fuck you on the bed I’ve seen for months, I’m not going to treat you any differently than how I told you I would.” You smile and bite your lip trying to hide your excitement as he discards your clothes.

“You’re just as beautiful in real life” he kisses down your neck to your breasts and sucks on one of your nipples and you let out a whimper, he kisses down your body and hovers above your pussy. “Please George” you moan, he licks from your core up to your clit. He fingers you with two fingers first before sucking on your clit and curling his fingers inside you. Your fingers grasp his soft hair and pull on it while the other grips the side of the bed,

“George! I’m going to cum” you yell and he pounds his fingers into you “Fuck” he pulls his fingers out of you and licks them off. He takes off his shirt and unbuttons his pants while you’re recovering from your high. “I’m ready, I need your cock in me, George” you palm him through his pants and slide a hand into his boxers, jerking him off. He pulls them down “Lay down” you do as he says while he strokes himself a few times before lining himself up with your core.

He slides himself in and groans at the feeling “Fuck” he moans and slowly picks up the pace until he gets used to the feeling. “You’re so fucking tight, Y/n” he pounds himself into you, you feel yourself sink into the mattress with every stroke. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you let out a loud moan. “So fucking hot” You grip onto his bicep and look into his eyes when you are about to cum. Without saying anything he already knows “Come on, you’re so close” he rubs your clit with his other hand and you finish around him. “Holy shit, feels so good, you’re throbbing on my cock” you feel him finish and he lays beside you.

You lay your head on his chest “Thank you” he says “No, thank you, that was great” “I know you don’t do this for everyone so thanks and if you you did like it and want me to come around again I’ll be happy to.” You kiss his lips “George I want to see you again, a lot more often but also do other things like go to dinner or something.” You wait to see what he will say hoping he will agree. “Are you asking me on a date?” “No im asking you to be my boyfriend” “Really?” He sounds surprised “You don’t have to say yes I was just saying I’d like that” “Yes.”

George was fine with you doing your job, your shoes ever night and private messaging other guys because he knew that’s what you had to do to earn money. If he couldn’t be at your apartment one night he’d just watch your livestream.

#george weasley x y/n #fred and george #george smut #george weasley fluff #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley imagine #george x reader

445 notes · View notes

bunnimew · 2 years

Text

Know I’m There

Rating: T Fandom: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy Relationship: Kylo Ren/Armitage Hux Tags: Exile, Reunion, Hux with longer hair, caf, The caf is very important, Tony Hawk!Hux, Post TROS, Droid OC, Rating for Language, Crack Treated Seriously Summary: For Kylux Exile Week 2022: Day 7 Anything Goes!

When Hux fled at the end of it all, after leading an army, being broadcast across the galaxy, meeting his enemies face to face in every arena, he thought he would never be able to stop hiding who he was.

So it comes as a surprise when he doesn't have to hide at all.

Even, apparently, from Ren.

On AO3 here.

“Hey, you look just like that General guy!”

Hux froze in place. He was halfway to picking up a box of ration bars when his hand stuck in the air and he stared at it, outstretched, with a look of absolute horror on his face.

Hux was prepared. He dyed his hair, a middle of the road shade of brown that looked nothing like red, but didn’t contrast with his skin. He wore a cloak to hide his face and kept his clothes completely different. It didn’t matter. He’d been recognized anyway. He should have known. His face was all over every holo in the galaxy. The cam had been very close, and very focused. Of course he couldn’t hope to hide.

Determined, at the very least, to die with dignity, Hux forced himself to meet the eyes of the shopkeeper.

The shopkeeper who looked back at him with guilt and… sympathy?

“I’m sorry,” he said, and Hux wasn’t sure he heard him right until he continued, “That was thoughtless of me. I’m sure you’d rather not be compared to someone who—”

He stopped and shook his head. Hux, on instinct, started shaking his too.

“Nevermind. Here, let me help you.” The shopkeeper stood from his stool and reached over the crate of boxes for the one Hux had been about to pick up. “You wanted the ration bars, right? Just the one box, or a few more?”

That was the first time.

Hux thought he got lucky.

The fourth time, Hux's roots were growing in. When the woman beside him at the fueling station turned and gasped, he thought that was it. This was finally it. He'd gotten just a little bit sloppy about keeping sufficient hair product around and now he was going to pay for it with his freedom and his life.

"Stars, you scared me!" She laughed, and Hux stared, disbelieving. "Has anyone ever told you how much you look like General Hux? Kriff, you've even got the hair!" She said, with a brief gesture toward the top of Hux's head. "No wonder you dye it. I wouldn’t wanna be mistaken for him, either!"

And after the third time that happened, Hux stopped bothering with the dye at all.

It wasn't easy to go around looking like himself. He still insisted on civilian clothes, nothing like he would have ever worn before.

At least for the first three years.

Then he'd gone and gotten nostalgic. A thick, broad coat with a wide notched collar in a warm fabric just one slight shade lighter than black.

He'd been foolish. He'd been indulgent. But he'd just wanted some small part of himself back.

And then he got his first, "Kark it! You even dress like him!" and Hux stopped worrying about it.

By the time someone got up the nerve to ask, "Hey, can you do the accent, too?" Hux wasn’t even surprised.

It was truly remarkable how quickly humans adapted to new conditions.

When Hux first escaped to the Outer Rim, he expected to live every minute of the rest of his life looking over his shoulder, on the move, running ever faster, paranoid that he might be found.

Now, he was found every time a new stranger came through town and nobody ever did a thing about it.

Five years in, and Hux laughed when people gasped. Smiled when they noticed his hair. Shrugged and waved. Said, "Yes, I get that a lot."

He let his hair be red. He let himself wear coats. He wore gloves more often than not. He didn't hide what he sounded like and he certainly didn't flinch anymore when someone pointed at him with a shout.

The one thing Hux did not revert back was the way he styled his hair. Largely because that was quite a bit of work in the morning for a person of whom no one had any expectations. Also, even that much product couldn't keep planetary humidity at bay for long.

So Hux didn't know why he thought Ren would be any different.

There he was. Tall and broad with his hair too long, as always. Hux was struck by an odd sense of envy. Not many people had known what Kylo Ren looked like under his mask. His identity was a First Order secret, as much as anything else was with all the espionage and traitors running around, himself included. Of course Ren could walk through a market looking perfectly like himself and not be seen.

But then Hux thought about it for one, insightful second and realized he himself was doing the exact same thing.

The envy evaporated in a flash of steam, leaving behind something infinitely more dangerous and deceptively warm: hope.

Which was stupid, because no one knew better than Hux that wherever Kylo Ren went, disaster followed. There was nothing to hope for here, except maybe that Ren would move along quickly and not get Hux dead before he left.

Still, the feeling lingered and so did Hux’s gaze, watching as Ren finished whatever he was doing on his datapad and looked up to scan the crowd. Hux didn’t flinch when Ren’s eyes passed over him, but he almost did when Ren failed to look away again.

He’d been spotted.

Whatever hope Hux had been foolishly feeling a minute ago was gone, washed aside by a cold wave of fear. This was it. This was finally it. Hux was recognized. Hux was found. There was no way out. Ren was going to reveal who he was to this whole planet and, realizing he was still alive and out there to be found, the galaxy would never think to pass over a man who looked and sounded so much like Hux ever again.

Then Ren’s gaze dropped. He turned his head. And just like that, he walked away.

With every step Ren took that put distance between Hux and him, warmth returned to his chest and the icy grip of dread melted away. It left him feeling washed out and hollow. It was too much in too short a time, with too many variables and too little solid ground to stand on. A comforting numbness settled in, and Hux let it, because what else was safe for him to feel? Anything else would be optimistic and over confident. Dangerous. Likely to lull him into a false sense of… something.

“Name?”

Hux startled so hard he had to clench his teeth together to keep from making a sound. He tore his eyes from the retreating Kylo Ren to look at the woman beside him, holding a datapad and stylus, waiting for his answer with forced and practiced patience.

Right. Yes. The reason he was here at all. Shopping. Because people who lived in a place, people who were no one at all, did that. Especially whenever they needed something, as Hux did now.

He calmed his breath and put a carefully pleasant expression on his face. “Hux.”

"Hux?” She repeated, stylus raised to hover barely a centimeter from the pad. One of her brows was furrowed in a look caught somewhere between confusion and amusement. “Like the General?"

Hux smiled thinly, adopting his well worn, put upon expression. “Unfortunately.”

Her lips pressed together to hide her laughter. “That’s gotta be awful. I’m sorry.”

Hux sighed.

It was.

By the time Hux returned home to his apartment, hardly bigger than his quarters on the Finalizer had been, he’d practiced fifteen different versions of the scathing speech he’d like to give Ren, worked himself up into a proper rant in his head and back down again, and plotted through three different plans for dropping everything and leaving this planet in a hurry, if he had to.

He couldn’t believe Ren hadn’t realized it was him.

Anyone else, literally everyone else, and Hux could excuse them as simply not knowing him well enough to realize who he really was. Strangers on the street, people who didn’t want any trouble, would be inclined to believe anything so long as it meant it wasn’t their responsibility. Imagine the trouble for anyone turning him in. They would have to actually turn him in, give statements, sacrifice several hours of their day, and suffer the unpleasant company of whatever passed for security in these parts.

Better to just pretend they didn’t know.

But Ren.

They had worked too closely together.

They had known each other for too many years.

They knew each other’s posture, the inflections in their voices, the pattern of their steps against the floor, their favorite expressions, the way their hands moved, what it took to make each other’s eyes widen in shock or narrow in rage.

If Ren didn’t recognize him, Hux hated to think, then it had to be because all of that had changed.

Hux hadn’t wanted to change.

He was prepared to hide. Hiding was survival. But changing was fundamental. Hux, despite everything, had not hated who he was and it was not part of the plan of his exile to truly become someone else.

Hux set his purchases on the floor beside the door and knelt to remove his boots before padding quietly through his home to the ‘fresher. He had learned it was best to leave his shoes at the door and not to track dust into his own apartment. He owned a cleaning droid, a faithful but mouthy little thing that did an adequate job on floors when it got around to it. But having to stare at the yellowish footprints and avoid them, lest he spread the sand around for the hour or so it would take the sluggish little thing to realize it had a job to do, was a special kind of madness Hux was unwilling to inflict upon himself.

So Hux walked with socked feet over clean floors to the only mirror he kept in the whole place. His reflection looked the same as it had that morning, before Hux left to do his shopping. Did it look the same as it had before he arrived on this planet, though? Before he’d left the Steadfast in a hurry, so long ago?

No. His hair was longer, obviously. It was against regulation to keep his hair long enough to be pulled back in a tie, and he never would have let his bangs fall like this, back then.

There were new lines around his lips and eyes. Hux blamed all the pretend smiling he had to do now, keeping up the appearance that he was just another happy, innocuous neighbor without a dangerous bone in his body. Smiles put people at ease, and Hux needed everyone at ease.

He had more freckles now. Time planetside always did that to him. He missed the sunlessness of spaceflight, if only for that reason.

But these things were superficial, Hux thought, shaking his head at his reflection. The straight line of his spine, the proud square of his shoulders, the way he held his arms at his side… all were as familiar to him as they’d ever been. Even standing here, examining himself critically, Hux still held his chin high, kept his eyes sharp, and moved barely a muscle he didn’t need to.

This had not changed. And as Hux studied himself, he felt more and more sure that no, in his heart of hearts, he was still himself. The coat and hair may be different, but even the way he stood, with his weight perfectly balanced between both feet, shoulder-width apart, heels back, knees relaxed, was exactly the same as it had always been and if Ren couldn’t see that—

…Then it must have been because he hadn’t wanted to, just like everybody else.

Hux woke to a string of exasperated binary that didn’t make any sense at all. He purposely did not have any windows in his bedroom. Therefore, he didn’t have any blinding light preventing him from blinking his eyes painlessly, albeit blearily, open to stare down at his insistent little cleaning droid, tiny lights from its optical sensors and status indicators flashing dimly in the dark.

He almost asked it to repeat itself when it did so of its own volition. It didn’t make any more sense to his sleep-addled brain the second time. Why would his droid be complaining about dust all over the floor? Hux specifically avoided that. “I didn’t track any—”

Suddenly, Hux didn't need two cups of caff and a splash of cool water to wake up. He was alert in an instant, listening past the whirring and beeping of his heedless droid for sounds beyond his bedroom. Someone was in his home.

Hux eased his feet quietly onto the floor, rolling his weight forward to keep from making a sound. Whoever was here must not have been an assassin or they wouldn't have left him alone long enough to be woken by a wayward droid. A thief, then? Hux lifted a tie from atop his chest of drawers and pulled the longer strands of hair up off his neck. He wanted no distractions if he was about to enter a fight.

He still kept a blaster under his mattress and the charge atop his nightstand, both now assembled in his silent fingers as he crept to the open doorway and leaned around it to see who was there.

Hux didn't nearly drop his blaster, but he did almost fire the thing in surprise.

Kylo Ren was in his kitchen.

Kylo Ren was in his kitchen with two mugs, a spoon, several of Hux's food storage containers spread in a semicircle on the counter around him, and a bemused look on his face.

He was still wearing the same dark clothes as he was in the market, just a shade shy of stark black. Tall, worn boots, a shirt with long sleeves and a high neck that hid as much of him as it could, and a cloak that had seen better days. Half of his hair was pulled back in a tail that kept the soft waves out of his eyes, and all of him was covered in a fine layer of the dust this city was infamously known for.

Kylo noticed that Hux was there before Hux was ready for him.

"Why do you store your spices like this?"

What an absurd thing to say to Hux after several years of saying nothing at all. Dumbfounded, Hux replied automatically, "Because I thought it was quaint. Why are you judging how I keep my salt?"

Kylo didn't even look up at him when he spooned a heap of what was definitely not salt into one of the two mugs and stirred. "Because I almost put it in your caf."

Hux must have been more asleep than he thought, because he nearly sputtered aloud. Almost dead on his feet, Hux had never made that mistake.

His voice managed to find some offense to color his words when he said, "They look completely different!"

Now Kylo looked up at him. Eyes wide with disbelief and tone just as defensive as Hux remembered it could be. "They really don't!"

And this was too strange. Kylo Ren in Hux's kitchen, arguing with him about salt while Hux held a blaster leveled at his head, after being absolutely sure only a handful of hours ago that Kylo hadn't even known Hux was really Hux.

Hux cursed his instincts, already accepting the domesticity of the scene as sufficient reason to relax back out of his alert state. Without the threat of imminent danger, Hux's body reminded him that he actually did need two cups of caf to operate at peak efficiency and, apparently, one was right across the apartment waiting for him.

He needed to rethink their encounter in the market. Obviously the conclusions Hux had drawn were all wrong. But then why had Kylo walked away? How did he end up here? The answers were obvious. Hux could tell they were obvious, he just couldn't figure out what they were while he was distracted by Kylo adding the exact correct amount of cream to his caf several meters away.

Hux didn't lower the blaster. "Why are you making me caf?"

Kylo stirred the cream into the cup and did a good job avoiding looking at Hux. "I hope you still take it the same."

Hux hesitated, then decided this was not valuable information worth withholding, "Little sweeter, nowadays," and watched as Kylo dipped the spoon back into the sugar for another half-spoonful. "Why are you making me caf?"

"Because you'd have already worked that out if you'd already drank some," Kylo answered simply.

That was probably accurate. The caf itself was a distraction. Hux both wanted it and shouldn't have needed it. If Kylo had been standing in the middle of his home doing nothing, he would have appeared more threatening. The caf was his way of telling Hux's body, if not his brain, that he wasn’t here to hurt him. And it was fucking working.

Hux felt betrayed by himself.

"I thought you didn't recognize me," Hux said, because it was stupid to go in circles around the caf when it didn't actually matter. This was the important thing. "In the market."

Kylo turned his head to look at him in that same unnervingly isolated way that made him look so intimidating in the helmet. Without the mask though, Hux could read the benign humanity of his expression, fluid and soft and horribly deceiving because of it. He was easily underestimated. Even Hux had done that, once.

The confusion was plain on his face. But there was something to the furrow of his brow that told Hux he was offended too. Just hurt enough to show it.

He lifted the mugs from the counter, one by the handle and the other around the lip, and walked straight up to Hux as if the blaster and nearly half a decade of silence weren’t in the air between them. He held one mug out to Hux, arm extended just a little beyond what would look natural to get around the blaster aimed at his chest, and despite himself, Hux took it.

He wrapped his fingers around the available handle and brought the mug up to his lips, as if this was just how they did mornings. And really, in the First Order, it kind of was.

Kylo watched him drink down half the mug before coming up for air. Evidently satisfied that now Hux might be thinking straight, he said, "How could I not know it was you? Setting aside that you look exactly like yourself..." And here Kylo paused to let his eyes drag over Hux's body from head to toe and back again.

Hux suddenly regretted wearing his softest, most indulgent sleep clothes to bed. Kylo was going to see right through the flannel bottoms in obviously First Order themed plaid and there was nothing dignified about his long sleeved, cozy knit shirt patterned with little red astromechs. In his defense, he was an engineer and it got cold at night in dry, sandy climes.

Stars, he could see Kylo’s laugh in his eyes. Hux reminded himself that he was the one holding the blaster.

“I can also read you through the Force,” Kylo finally continued. “Nobody else feels or thinks like you.”

Hux understood then why Kylo was offended. How dare he forget that Kylo could just cheat and peek inside his head. He went back to the mug for another long drink.

This time Kylo joined him, finally taking a sip from his own.

Of course it was at that exact moment his little cleaning droid decided, in a fit of rapid and creative cursing, that it was time to chase Kylo’s footprints and sweep up the dust, just to complete the utterly bizarre picture they made.

Kylo nearly spit out his caf and turned with wide eyes to stare at the tiny irritable thing.

In all fairness, it was very uncouth. “Yeah, it really hates dust.”

“No, it’s not—” Kylo began in a distracted tone. He turned back around to face Hux looking both shaken and impressed. What an odd mix. “I just thought I’d already heard every curse that translated well to binary. And every curse that didn’t.”

Hux let his confusion show. Why would that have bothered him? “Met a lot of poorly coded droids, have you?”

Kylo’s lips pulled into a little, nostalgic smile. Hux could tell he was reading between the lines. Cursing was something that had to be coded in to droids, not out. “Just one.”

Must have been one hell of a droid.

Hux finally allowed the blaster to fall to his side. At this point, keeping up the pretense that he meant to use it was ridiculous. Not to mention, Kylo technically could have disarmed him at any time, and merely being allowed to act dangerous was enough to activate Hux’s spite and make him not want to.

Fine. If they were doing this, they were doing this.

Hux stepped around Kylo and set the blaster on the dining table on his way to the kitchen. He needed another mug of caf. “Take off your boots and set them by the door, or it’ll never shut up and the beeping does get old.”

He didn’t look behind him, but he heard the rustling of fabric and the telling sound of a zipper that said Kylo was obeying. It was followed by an ear-piercing shriek from his droid that meant Kylo had probably flared out his cloak dramatically in the process of kneeling down and thrown dust everywhere.

Kylo’s voice sounded pained when he asked, “Then why don’t you reprogram it?”

Hux paused in the process of pouring his cream to look at him in disbelief.

Yup. Dust everywhere.

“Why would I program out something that trains me into keeping better habits?”

Kylo tossed his boots through the air to the door. It was, strictly speaking, what he had been told to do, Hux supposed. Still. Hux knew to brace for it, but Kylo was taken by surprise when the tiny droid attempted to ruin their eardrums again.

When he recovered, Kylo looked up at him with one of those crooked smiles that Hux never knew what to do with. “That’s such a you thing to say.”

Hux didn’t know why his face felt hot. There was no reason for him to react so intensely to Kylo saying… something about Hux being Hux. He used to say those things all the time, sometimes compliments, sometimes insults. It shouldn’t have been anything out of the ordinary.

And yet.

He was not too proud to admit to himself that he might have been a little bit panicked when he returned, “And breaking into my home, helping yourself to my things, distressing my droid, and making a huge mess is such a you thing to do.”

Kylo visibly halted. The smile strained, like he wasn’t sure if he should be keeping it. He wasn’t sure if Hux was teasing or insulting. Hux wasn’t sure either. This was too strange and Hux wasn’t ready and he should have had a plan for this, but for some foolish reason, he had assumed this would never happen—

“If you knew it was me,” Hux said all at once, “then why didn’t you say anything?”

Kylo didn’t reply immediately. It took him almost a minute to thaw, Hux realized about twenty-five seconds in that he was actually counting. When he finally moved, it was to lift the cloak off of his shoulders and drape it over the back of a chair. He looked, if anything, disappointed.

“What, because announcing to a crowd of civilians that I’d found General Hux would have been a good idea?” Hux suddenly remembered his thoughts from before the caf: that the answers were obvious and he was missing things he shouldn’t be. "I can tell just from looking at you that you’re not trying very hard to hide who you really are, but I figured the only way to make it more obvious that you were General Hux was to put you next to Kylo Ren."

It was utterly absurd that Hux’s first thought was to wonder if even that would be enough.

The second was that Kylo didn’t know. Of course not, Hux himself had the same thoughts seeing Kylo in the market. Why wasn’t he hiding? How could he dare look the same?

The difference was, Kylo had an excuse. His mask had hidden him for years. Hux’s face was broadcast across the galaxy. That he didn’t have to hide it was a mystery.

Hux turned back to the counter and his second cup of caf to give himself a moment to think.

What must it look like to Kylo, that Hux was blatantly advertising his identity to anyone with eyes and ears? It was arguable that, between the two of them, Hux’s self preservation instinct was stronger and more finely tuned. Even the most remotely stationed officer on the Finalizer wouldn’t have believed it if you’d told them Hux didn’t have a plan, and Kylo was far from remote. He was right there to watch Hux build strategy and the weapons capable of accomplishing his aims. He would know that this wasn’t an oversight, but an explicit choice.

What Kylo couldn’t know was the sheer lack of danger that choice brought to Hux.

He must have thought Hux didn’t care, or worse, that he wanted to be found. And by the tone with which he spoke, Kylo wasn’t very happy about it. What Hux had thought was cavalier indifference or wilful ignorance was, in reality, Kylo attempting to protect Hux from himself.

Hux knew the frustration of that very well.

With both hands wrapped tight around his mug and a fortifying gulp of caf in his system, Hux faced Kylo again. He sat down at his dining table, heedless of the dust, and waited for Kylo to join him before attempting to speak.

“They don’t know. Or if they do, they don’t care,” Hux explained curtly. He realized he was looking at the table top, and lifted his eyes to meet Kylo’s so that there would be nothing to misunderstand. “People will freely compare me to the General and come away still convinced I’m not him. It isn’t that I didn’t try to hide, simply that I don’t have to.”

In the silence that followed, Hux watched as the hard lines around Kylo’s eyes eased and the tight clench of his jaw relaxed. His mouth moved, thoughts Kylo didn’t let past his lips, until he said, “You’re kidding.”

Hux let the p pop when he answered, “Nope.”

“That’s insane.”

“I agree.”

“And you thought I—”

“Either didn’t know or didn’t care. Yes,” Hux confirmed.

Kylo was shaking his head, but Hux couldn’t tell if it was in disbelief of the situation or denial until he opened his mouth again. “Of course I cared.”

Hux narrowly kept himself from scoffing. Did he miss some sort of bedside reconciliation between them while he was still out and trying not to die from close-range blaster fire? “It’s been years, Kylo, and the way we left everything at the end? Please, what reasons would I have for believing you cared?”

Kylo winced and Hux felt a, deserved in his opinion, deep satisfaction at seeing the discomfort on that expressive face.

Before he could do something stupid like apologize, Hux continued. “What were you hoping for by coming here?”

Kylo stared down into his mug. It was still half-full and had to be only warm by now. As Hux watched, Kylo’s finger began tapping against the side with his nail. It filled the quiet between them with a gentle clinking sound that gave away his restlessness. “I’ve always been pretty bad at knowing what I want.”

That was hardly something Kylo needed to tell Hux. He had known that almost from the beginning.

“We used to be…” Kylo glanced up, like he had to make sure Hux was still there, “close. Weren’t we?”

The tone of those last two words was so uncertain and so hopeful that Hux found himself questioning the answer too. “...I think it would be safe to say that, yes.”

Kylo licked his lips. He was so nervous. Hux was almost afraid of what he was working up to say. “I want that back.”

That wasn’t… so much. Hux allowed himself to relax with the next breath that left his lungs. “Well, I don’t know what your choice of career currently looks like, but mine has the room in it for that. Yes.”

Before Hux could begin to enjoy the lack of tension in his shoulders, Kylo reached out across the table and grabbed his hand, sending the strain immediately back into his muscles and freezing Hux in place. “Back then, I didn’t imagine it, did I? That we could have been… closer?”

Hux should have known better. There was no dodging blaster fire with Kylo around. There was only taking the hit and praying it didn’t hurt too much. He hoped his voice didn’t give away his trepidation when he answered, “No. You did not imagine that.”

“I want—” Hux waited to find out what Kylo wanted, but he would never know. “If we—” He started again, stopped, stared at Hux with those impossibly deep eyes, and the next he opened his mouth, it was more of the same. “Now that—”

“You’re going to have to finish one of those questions if you’d like me to answer it,” Hux interrupted irritably.

“Could we be that?” Kylo said, voice stronger than he’d heard it since Hux last saw him, when he was the Supreme Leader driving the Order into ruin. “Could we be closer, now that there aren’t any masters, Supreme Leaders, Jedi, or an Order in the way?”

Even with the sheer amount of telegraphing Kylo had done, letting Hux see this coming from a parsec away, hearing him finally get the words together to actually ask still made Hux’s heart beat faster. Whether with excitement or terror, Hux couldn’t be sure. It was probably both.

He hadn’t been lying when he said his new life had the room for it. The only thing left to consider was whether he wanted it. Whether he wanted to let this force of nature back into his life, close enough to burn when Kylo inevitably set himself on fire. Whether it might be worth it, and whether Hux might want to be there to put the flames back out again.

Did he want it?

"Yes."

One word, and suddenly Hux's hand was at Kylo's lips. The softest of kisses pressed against Hux’s bare knuckles and something so small really shouldn’t have meant so much, but with their history, years of silence, years of violence, and so many near misses when it all might have been over weighing down on them, it was the smallest of things that meant everything.

Speaking of…

“But you’re going to have to learn not to piss off my droid.”

The speed with which uncertainty and dread reentered Kylo’s gaze was delightful. “What’s its designation?”

That was a good question. Hux shrugged.

Kylo looked honestly offended on the droid’s behalf. “Then what do you call it?”

“I don’t.”

Kylo didn’t miss a beat. “I’m gonna call it Sir Beepsalot.”

Hux felt the alarm taking over his face. “Don’t you dare.”

Kylo grinned.

Oh Stars.

What has he done?

#TheBunni #kylux #star wars #sequel trilogy

26 notes · View notes

stargazer-sims · 2 years

Text

- thirty-eight -

The people at the car rental place speak passable English, much to Cam’s relief. He supposes it makes sense that they would, given this is an international airport just outside one of Japan’s largest cities, but he’d been too flustered to think much about that earlier.

He rents a SUV, not unlike the vehicle he drives back home. The lady at the desk tells him he can keep it for a week, and the fees also include mileage and insurance. She says if he needs it for longer than seven days, he can take it to the branch of the company located in Mt. Komorebi and have the contract renewed. Cam agrees to all the conditions she outlines for him, signs the papers where she asks him to, and hands over his credit card and driving license.

She disappears into a back room for several minutes. When she returns, she gives him back his license and his MasterCard along with a handful of paperwork. She instructs him to wait outside, near the company’s sign, and someone will bring the vehicle for him.

By the time he figures out where the exit is, he only ends up having to wait on the sidewalk for a couple of minutes. The man who arrives with the SUV does not speak English. He inspects the papers Cam is carrying, nods and smiles, and then passes Cam the keys.

The sun is just starting to set, and everything is washed in golden light and long shadows. In the distance, Cam sees a white range of mountains, but he barely pauses to take in the majestic sight of them. What had Fox said was the name of the mountain on which Mt. Komorebi was built? Yukimatsu. He can’t say he feels particularly kindly disposed toward it at the moment, and he's not in a frame of mind to look for beauty in it.

He's pleased to see that his rental car has GPS. After programming the address of the hospital into it, he sits there for a moment and contemplates whether or not he should try calling his son. Fox's surgery was supposed to have been this morning at eight, and it's now a just a few minutes before six in the evening. Fox may not have his phone within reach, and even if he does, he may not feel like talking or even be able to, but at least Cam can leave him a message. He may arrive there in person before Fox hears it, but that's okay. He tells himself it's the thought that's important.

The line rings three times. Cam expects it to ring a fourth time and then go to voicemail, but he's shocked when someone picks up.

"Fox?" he says, not even letting the person on the other end get a chance to say hello.

"Uh... no," says an unfamiliar man. "This is Takahiro Suzuki. It's Fox's phone. Who is this?"

Before he can think better of it, he blurts, "Who are you, and why do you have Fox's phone?"

"Fox is in the hospital," says the perplexed voice of Takahiro Suzuki. "Who are you?"

"I'm his father, Campbell Abbottsford. Why do you have his phone?"

"Because he had a operation. He ask me to keep it. He told me, please answer if somebody calls. So, I answer," says Takahiro, in a tone that seems to imply he's concerned that Cam may be unable to grasp this concept. "You understand?"

"Are you with him right now?"

"Yes."

"Can I talk to him?"

"I don't know if he could talk very good right now," Takahiro says. "He's very sick. Maybe I hold the phone for him, and you talk, and he could listen. You want to do that?"

"Yes. Please do that," Cam says.

He taps his fingers on the steering wheel impatiently while he waits. There's some muffled noise on the line, and then he hears Takahiro say, "It's your father. He wants to say some stuff. I hold this for you. No... don't move. I get close to you, okay?"

Fox murmurs something in reply, but Cam can't quite make out what it is. There's a sound like rustling fabric, and then he hears, "Dad...?"

"Fox! Are you okay?" It's a stupid question, he knows, but he asks it more from reflex than anything else. "I'm at the airport. I promise, I'll be there soon."

"Feel like crap." Fox's voice is thick and slurred, probably from pain medication, Cam guesses. "Might be 'sleep when y'get here."

"It's okay," Cam reassures him. "If you're asleep when I get there, I'll just sit with you until you wake up. Hopefully, you'll be feeling a bit more like yourself in the morning, and then we can make some plans to get you home."

"Mm-hmm..." Fox mumbles. "Sounds good."

"Do you want me to bring you anything?"

In response, Fox says something that's completely incomprehensible. Cam thinks it's just nonsense until he hears Takahiro laughing.

"No, Fox. You can't have that," Takahiro says. "It's very sugar. What you think would happen? You want to get more sick?"

"What?" says Cam.

"Daifuku mochi," says Takahiro. "He can't have it. Too much sugar. It's very danger for him."

"What would you know about that?" Cam asks.

"You want to say any more stuff, Abbottsford-san?" Takahiro says, apparently ignoring Cam's question. "I think Fox wants to sleep."

There's a lot more Cam would like to say, but he doesn't want to say it with an unabashed eavesdropper on the line with him and his son. He has no idea who this man is, and why he's in Fox's hospital room. Fox has never mentioned him before, but he gives the impression that he's familiar enough to be someone Fox definitely should have mentioned to his parents.

Cam tries not to pass judgement, but he finds it's difficult to push past his initial reaction. Perhaps more curtly than necessary, he tells Takahiro, "No. Please tell my son I'll be there in less than an hour. And if it wouldn't be too much trouble, kindly give him back his phone. You are not his personal assistant."

Takahiro stage-whispers, "Fox, what means 'personal assistant'?"

"Dad," Fox says. "Be nice to my man... friend."

"Excuse me?" Cam says. "Your what?"

Takahiro is still laughing. "You got too much drugs in your brain, Fox."

"What?" Fox whines. "You're a man. You're my friend. M’trying really hard, Taka.”

“I know you’re trying,” Takahiro says. “I think it’s too difficult for you.”

“Yeah,” says Fox. “You just stay beside me and hold my hand, ‘kay? We can say everything with no words.”

“What in the world is going on over there?” Cam demands.

"You have to not pay attention to him, Abbottsford-san," Takahiro says. "He got too many medication for pain right now. His brain is very confused."

"Apparently," says Cam.

"Anyway, you come. You see when you get here."

"Will you be there when I get there?"

"Maybe?"

"That is not the correct answer," says Cam. "Fox, are you still listening?"

"Uh-huh," Fox says.

"Tell him to go. Tell him in whatever language he understands best."

"No," Fox says.

"Fox, it's okay," says Takahiro. "I got the message. He already don't like me. It's fine. Maybe he could decide different after we meet and he knows me a little bit. After everybody gets more calm."

"I'm calm right now," Fox says. "I'm really... floaty. Y'know?"

"I know," Takahiro says. "Say goodbye to your father now, and I give you back your phone. I see you tomorrow."

"Promise?"

"Yeah."

"Dad?" Fox says. "Bye. Love you. See you later."

Then, Cam's phone beeps softly in his ear. He lowers it and stares at it for a second. Had one of them just hung up on him? Frustrated, he tosses the phone onto the passenger seat, and starts the SUV's engine. He can't even begin to explain the tangle of emotions chasing each other in futile circles inside his head. He doesn't know if he wants to be annoyed, relieved or worried.

Don't think about anything right now, he tries to instruct himself. You're too tired to be reasonable. Just focus on getting to Mt. Komorebi and being with Fox. Everything else can wait.

#ts4 #sims 4 #eagames #snowy escape #Cam Abbottsford #Fox Abbottsford #Takahiro Suzuki #winterflowers #stargazersims

14 notes · View notes

miracle-sham · 3 years

Text

Crack Your Bones and Say Those Lies.

| {Jasonette July 2021, Saturday Challenge 3: And They Were Roommates} |

———

| After getting roped into the Vigilante life by Chat Noir, her friend and partner in crime, Maladroit tries her best to help fight crime to make the city a better place, if only Red Hood and his gang would stop causing problems. |

| Or alternatively, Marinette and Jason are roommates with secrets. Both have huge crushes on each other but more importantly, both are trying to juggle moonlighting as their secret identities. However, when watching the nightly news together, everything changes. |

| Word Count: 5,014. |

| Warnings/Tags: No Miraculous/Different Powers Au, Roommates, minor gang mentions/Red Hood is a gang lord, gun violence, Vigilantism, Identity Shenanigans/Mistakes, Miscommunication, some emotional hurt, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, and Domestic fluff. Also Oblivious, Protective, & Mutually Pining Marinette and Jason. |

———

| A/N: Hey! Sorry this is nearly a week late but where I live got hit with a nasty heatwave and I was barely able to write from sheer exhaustion from the heat. But on a happier note, I'm so glad I've finally been able to write and post a proper Vigilantes au (as in like Spidey style vigilantism with homemade gear and all!) Because that kinda Vigilante au especially combined with roommates is my favourite trope ever! Well maybe joint with Dragonrider AUs, but still! I've had multiple Vigilante Aus sitting in my notes and drafts so it's brilliant to finally release one into the wild! Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this! |

| Also side note, Don’t Like? Don’t Read. Also also, please do not criticise any of my writing. This was written for fun and receiving criticism, even in a compliment/criticism sandwich, is the exact opposite of fun. |

———

It's Friday night, and Maladroit and Chat Noir are midway through their usual patrol of their slice of territory in the city.

“Race you to the billboard!” Chat Noir calls out, snickering in an almost cat-like-chitter as he launches himself forwards. Swinging over Maladroit's head with his grapple, he lands on the next roof ahead, in a perfect three-point landing.

Maladroit giggles, “Oh, you're so on!” She grabs her grapple and shoots. Swinging after him and onto the same roof. She instead, dive forward rolls for her landing and uses the momentum to propel her into a run.

Losing his lead due to the momentum loss of the three-point landing, Chat Noir vaults over a roof vent.

Forced to swerve to the side, Maladroit barely dodges a massive puddle of rainwater on her side of the roof.

Neck and Neck, the two raced across the rooftop. Closer and closer to the billboard they raced.

Nearly there! She thinks, c'mon! Reaching an arm out to slap the billboard—

Bzzt!

“Eep!” She yelps, startled by the buzzing crackle of her earring-comms. Unintentionally, she accidentally veers to the side and crashes straight into Chat Noir's side.

They collide with a loud thud, and two of them crumple into a pile.

“Graceful as ever, Mal.” A voice teases over her earring-comms. “Joking aside, didn't mean to spook you, sorry!”

Maladroit groans, “thanks,” and gingerly extracts herself from the vigilante limb pile.

“Gamer!” Chat Noir cheers, having heard him through his own disguised comms. “Got any crimes for us to fight tonight?”

There's a chuckle over the line, “Lucky you should ask, Chat, I do happen to have found some villainous plans for you to thwart.”

Chat Noir cracks his knuckles and stretches. “Oh? What are they?”

“Two which are time-sensitive.” Gamer adds.

Maladroit stifles a squawk, “Two! That are time-sensitive?” Her voice goes up a pitch on the last word, making it sound like a question.

“Uh-huh.” He confirms. “Chat Noir, there's a break-in at a jewellery store two blocks over from you. I'm sending you the directions now to your phone.”

Chat Noir does a two-fingered salute to the nearest security camera. “Got it, G! Detective Noir is on the case!”

“And Maladroit, we've got reports of sightings of Red Hood outside his usual area. By the Warehouses on fourth. There are no security cams around there so I've got nothing but rumours to go on. See if you can check it out and find out what he's up to.” Gamer informs her, sounding slightly irritated at the fact he's got little information to give her.

Maladroit nods, grumbling slightly. “When isn't he up to something.”

Slinging an arm around her shoulder, Chat Noir grins like the Cheshire Cat. “C'mon, Mal! It'll be a quick sweep and nothing will turn up like the last twenty times we've gotten this kinda tip-off!”

“You owe me ice cream from André's when we're in civvies tomorrow!” She huffs. “I made us macarons last time!”

“I haven't forgotten!” Chat Noir protests. “Anyway, see you tomorrow if we don't catch each other for the end of the patrol?”

Maladroit nods. “Yep! See ya later Minou!”

The two split. Chat Noir dashing after the directions, and Maladroit swinging towards the warehouses on fourth.

———

Breathe, Maladroit—reminds herself, perched on the rafters in one of the warehouses on fourth. Staring at the blood-red glowing mask of the red hooded villain, who happens to be oh so creatively named the 'Red Hood', leaning on the balcony railing on the opposite side of the warehouse to her rafter, and presumably glaring up at her.

“It's you again, Maladroit.” He growls, distorted by whatever voice modifier he's got wired into his mask.

She can't help but wince at the reminder of the word she had accidentally said the first time she had ever helped Chat Noir fight crime. Which irritatingly enough, stuck as her vigilante name. Especially since her second attempt at a name, Ladybug, didn't stick. She frowns beneath the black and red spotted bandana covering her mouth, and tightly grips her bladed yo-yo—with piano wire instead of string—of the same colour scheme.

“What are you planning, Red Hood?” She spits out, voice also modified by her bandana, a tad too grumpy and bitterly for the awkward-but-smiley "persona" she's supposed to act like (although it's not so much of a persona when that's just how she is almost all the time). But in her defence, she's had a rough day at uni, things have been awkward at home because of her crush on her roomie lately, and more importantly, Red Hood's lackeys have been a pain in the neck for the past week, so her reaction is more than warranted.

He has the audacity to laugh. “What makes you think I'm going to tell you, Pipsqueak?”

“Well,” Maladroit huffs, “I was hoping you were feeling considerate.”

Red Hood shifts his shoulders. “Aww, sorry Pipsqueak. I'm not feeling particularly considerate today.” In a split second, he slips both guns from his holsters, spins them, and shoots.

Maladroit squeaks, instinctively tugging on her power, and dives off the rafter to dodge the shot. “Rude!”

She's just able to shoot her grapple off and swing up to another metal beam.

“How the fuck do you keep dodging my shots?” He snarls, gesturing at her with his guns in short angry-looking motions.

In response, she throws her yo-yo at him, tugging on her power again. The yo-yo spins through the air, slashing through the Red Hood's jacket sleeve and slicing a deep groove into the gun, then rewinds on the wire back to her. “What makes you think I'm going to tell you, Bullet Boy!” She parrots back, cheekily.

“Hey!” Red Hood snaps, aiming another shot at her.

Tugging on her powers once more, Maladroit yelps as she swings to yet another metal rafter beam in order to avoid the shot. “Your aim sucks!”

“Fuck you!” He retorts, firing off four more shots aimed at her head.

There's a horrifying moment as she barely manages to tug on her powers in time. The bullets barely skimming past her hood, one even tearing the fabric slightly.

“Mal!” Comes Gamer's terrified voice over her earring-comms, “I need you to pull back immediately! Red Hood and his gang have been spotted nearby and Chat can't get to you in time to back you up if you do get into a fight!”

She raises a hand to her earrings and quietly laughs hysterically. “Little too late for that, G! I'm uh currently staring… face to gun to him”

“Oh, fuck!” Gamer responds, voice going up a pitch. “I'm contacting Chat now. Try and get out if you can but prioritise not getting yourself killed, please!”

Red Hood fires his guns again. “Eyes and ears on me, Pipsqueak.”

Squeaking yet again, Maladroit desperately tugs on her power once more and swings to another rafter. Her heart thunders in her chest as loudly as his gunfire. She spits out a frantic, “no promises!” to both of them.

“I've informed him, your backup is on the way.” Gamer tells her.

The main warehouse doors clatter open with a resounding slam! Followed by the stomping of multiple pairs of boots storming inside.

Maladroit waves at Red Hood, the quiet terrified hysterical laughter practically bubbling out of her mouth. “Haha, well I'm afraid that's my cue to Bug Out!”

“Oh, I don't think so, Pipsqueak.” Red Hood taunts, shooting six bullets at her, rapid-fire. “I ain't finished with our convo yet.”

Squeaking for the umpteenth time, and really just giving him even more reason to keep giving her that stupid pipsqueak nickname, she riskily shoots her grapple, aiming and swinging towards the warehouse's large balcony windows.

“Get the fuck back here!” He snarls, voice deepening with fury. Pausing to reload before firing off more shots at her with abandon.

Maladroit wriggles midair, tugging on her powers to try and dodge the shots. She curls into a dive forward roll as the grapple forces her to land onto the balcony. The same one that Red Hood has been stood on this entire time. Oh, help me! She thinks, eyes widening behind her makeshift red with black tinted lenses, goggles-slash-domino mask.

He aims his gun at her once more. “Move and you fucking die, pipsqueak.”

Putting her hands in the air, she swallows a gulp of air. Her body armour is padded beneath her red, and black spotted, hoodie but it isn't bulletproof. And she can feel the straining exhaustion of overusing her powers clawing at her.

They're at a standoff. Still as statues, the both of them. It's almost poetic how they parallel each other. He's got his gun aimed at her, whilst she's desperately clutching at her grappling hook gun in one of her raised hands. Both donned in red. Both committing crimes in the eyes of the law. Two sides of the same coin, one and the same.

Maladroit feels sick to her stomach, staring down the barrels of his guns. Ever so slowly, she tugs on her powers. The window a little bit behind her creaks quietly enough that Red Hood doesn't seem to notice beneath the clamour of his gang doing whatever it is they're doing below.

She counts her breath and tugs on her power. A minute passes with no movement, no words, nothing happening on the balcony. Out of the corner of her eye, she can just see that it's now open enough that she should be able to make it out unscathed. Or at least mostly unscathed.

Closing her eyes, not that he can see, her power snaps. Instinctively she doubles over and slaps a hand over her mouth. Barely in time as a stifled scream is yanked from her throat, leaving her panting for breath. Her knees crash onto the balcony flooring. A bullet whizzes past her neck.

“Shit. What the fuck was that?” Red Hood grumbles, sounding genuinely concerned. He storms across the balcony towards her.

Maladroit can't help but flinch, bodily throwing herself back as far away from him as she can. Mind racing in panic.

He stows one gun back into a holster then reaches a hand towards her. “Hey, hey, hey. Calm down.”

“Gotta go! Bug-bye!” She squeaks out, wrenching on her power with all her remaining strength, and bolting for the window.

“I think the fuck not! Fucking pretending to be hurt.” Red Hood barks, ripping the gun back out of its holster.

Narrowly dodging the spray of bullets shot at her, Maladroit dives through the window and fires off her grapple. Safely swinging far away from the warehouse.

———

Carefully Maladroit drops with the ease of far too many nights of practise, onto the fire escape outside her bedroom window. She crouches and lets the shadows of the night hide her form. Creeping closer, she checks the windowsill for any marks or signs of tampering but it all comes away untouched. Content with her quick security check, she fumbles for the disguised piece of string wedging the window ajar in a way that's barely visible unless you know where to look for it. Got it! She thinks to herself, grabbing ahold of it and prying it, and the window above it, up and open.

Slipping through the open window, she sits on the sill to rip her thankfully not-too-dirty studded steel-toed boots off. Picking them up in one hand, she wiggles the rest of the way into her room and immediately resets the security measures, yanking the curtain down for privacy.

Maladroit then shuffles over to her bed. Tikki—her gorgeous fluffy red and dark brown miniature dachshund—blinks sleepily up at her, from the dog bed next to it. The puppy yaps in greeting before snuffling and curling back up to sleep.

She coos at the cuteness before continuing on. With the other hand not carrying the boots, she pries the blanket covered duffel bag out from underneath. Wrestling to unzip it in one janky and awkward motion, grunting slightly at the exertion. The metal of the zip digs in but the discomfort is mostly mitigated by the padded gloves and wrist guards she's wearing. The easy to clean plastic bag designated for temporary storing of her boots is dragged out of the bag and said boots are tossed in without a second glance.

Huffing, she starts to take the rest of her cross between mostly homemade and refashioned sports kit vigilante gear off. First, tugging down the hood of her hoodie and unclipping the black scrum cap hidden under it. It's dumped unceremoniously into a secondary plastic bag in the open duffel bag. After that, Maladroit removes the black neck guard and pulls her makeshift goggles-slash-domino mask over her head. Those too, are dumped into the other plastic bag. Then she unties the bandana with the nose guard underneath, from around her mouth and nose. Unsurprisingly, they're also dumped in the bag.

Next, she undoes the velcros on her red and black padded gloves, black wrist guards, as well as black elbow, knee, and shin pads. Also dumped into the other bag. With the outer protective wear removed, Maladroit pulls her hoodie over her head. Continuing on, she peels the padded rugby body armour and shorts off, and then the thermal under-armour. All dumped into the third and final plastic bag. “I swear,” Maladroit mumbles to herself, “getting changed out my gear never gets easier. And to think back when I had my last P.E. lesson at school, I thought I'd never have to touch this kinda kit ever again. Rip me.”

Lastly, Marinette—no longer Maladroit seeing as she is no longer in her vigilante gear—throws on her running-to-the-bathroom spare bathrobe to cover herself. She hastily shoves the three plastic bags into the duffel bag and kicks it under her bed. Purposefully leaving it unzipped but quickly fixing the blanket covering the bag, so that she can more easily grab her kit to clean everything later, whilst keeping it sufficiently hidden.

With that mostly taken care of, she nabs the mouthguard case, some clean pyjamas, and dashes out of her room—clinging awkwardly to the bathrobe. She hops in the apartment's shared bathroom, the rest of the place is silent, meaning her roomie, Jason, must have gone out. Still, Marinette locks the door regardless. If there's one thing she's learnt in her foray into the nightly masked vigilantism, is that one can never be too careful.

“Shit! Nearly forgot to take this out.” She grumbles to herself, just as she was stepping into the shower. Prying the mouthguard out of her mouth as she shuffles over to the sink, she gives it a quick rinse under the tap. Followed by a thorough scrubbing with her toothbrush and glob of toothpaste. She pops it into the mouthguard case and leaves it on the side of the sink for now.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Marinette finally allows herself to indulge in a good half an hour-long hot shower to get the grime from a night of crime-fighting off of herself.

She's only just drying off her hair, having already changed into her pyjamas, when the blare of the TV echoes through the apartment. Tensing up, her anxiety runs wild. It's what they get for living in the cheaper but slightly dodgy apartments where the walls are thin and the doors are thinner. Grabbing the mouthguard case, she wraps it up in the bathrobe and peeks out the bathroom door and looks down the hall into the open plan kitchen lounge. Jason's back, he's sitting on the sofa watching the TV.

Shoulders untensing, she finished drying her hair and heads out into the hallway. In place of a greeting, she exclaims, “oh! Jason, you're back!”

Jason flinches slightly and looks over his shoulder back at her. “Yeah, a friend had an emergency so, y'know.”

Immediately, concern wrenches at Marinette's heart, “oh no, I'm sorry. Are they… okay?”

He waves a hand in a so-so gesture and clears his throat awkwardly. “Uh, yeah. They're fine now.”

“That's good!” She says, nodding, as she makes her way fully into the lounge and the TV catches her attention. “Oh is it nearly the eleven o'clock news already? I need to watch this! Alya texted me earlier saying I have to, and she sounded really excited!” Glancing down at the bundle in her arms and flushes red. “Actually, I'll be back in a second!”

“I'll yell as soon as it actually starts.” Jason offers, smiling warmly at her.

Marinette just misses the smile, rushing back to her room, and throwing a quick, “thanks,” over her shoulder back at him.

Also missing his smile turn fond and the good-natured roll of his eyes at her antics.

Barely half a minute passes before she's bounding back into the lounge, with a sleepy Tikki at her heels. She plops herself down on the sofa next to him and hopes the blush on her face could simply be mistaken for the flush of running about like a mad thing instead. Tikki whines until Marionette picks her up and lets her on the sofa with them, padding over to the furthest corner to curl up in.

Jason points to the pink floral steaming mug on the coffee table, right next to his Pride Prejudice and Zombies themed mug. “Whilst you were in the shower, I made us both hot chocolates with marshmallows, my granddad Alfie's recipe.”

“Oh!” Marinette responds in pleasant surprise. She turns to him and positively beams, eyes shining with happiness. “Thank you so much, Jason! You're always so thoughtful!”

He blushes and rubs the back of his neck bashfully. “Yeah, well, I thought it's only fair since you normally make 'em. And I visited Alfie recently, and I promised to get you his recipe to try, so I thought it'd be a nice surprise for once!” He pauses and points at the big bowl also on the coffee table, “also I cooked us some popcorn.”

“Aw! Thank you again! I really appreciate this!” She scoops up the hot chocolate with slight reverence and takes a sip. Immediately her face lights up even more in joy. “Oh, this is delicious!”

Jason chuckles, “isn't it the best! I'll pass that onto Alfie though, he'll be glad to know you like it so much. Speaking of which, he's gonna give making them a try next time I'm up since I wasn't there long enough this time. Would you fancy coming with me to see him, then?”

Her eyes widen and her heart stutters in her chest, feeling close to bursting from happiness. “I'd love to! Do you have a date when you're thinking of going up?”

He nods. “Yeah, maybe around—”

But he's interrupted by the starting audio of the eleven o'clock news.

They both immediately shut up and watch the screen intently as the news anchors appear on the show. The starting discussion is somewhat boring, talking about the local billionaire Wayne-or-something business and a related upcoming charity event of some sort.

Marinette doesn't pay attention to it, but she does catch Jason wrinkling his nose and scowling at the conversation.

Luckily, the topic shifts quickly enough. “And now, over to our newest reporter, Alya. We hear there's been some rumblings regarding the conflict between local vigilante Chat Noir, his sidekick Maladroit, and the gang controlled by the infamous Red Hood himself.”

“That's stupid,” Jason grumbles, “Maladroit is a fully-fledged vigilante in her own right and not just the catboy's sidekick. That's like saying Nightwing is Batman's sidekick!”

Marinette frowns, very touched by his words and trying her damnedest to appear nonchalant. “I don't know… from all the-uh news clips, Maladroit seems like Chat Noir's sidekick to me. She's always hovering nervously near him like a strong wind would spook her.”

“C'mon! She's been reported to have held her own against Red Hood on multiple occasions, alone!” He argues, sounding rather offended on her alter egos behalf.

Scoffing, she shakes her head. “Clearly that's because he's going easy on her! He's never directly shot her, according to the reports clearly, he's soft on her!” The lies taste bitter on her tongue.

Jason splutters and flushes bright red, turning away from her slightly. “W-well that's obviously a testament to her skill and not Red Hood's mercy! He's always reported as being a merciless killer, why'd he be soft on her!”

“I don't know!” She makes a dying-choking noise as she flushes even more red than earlier. Shoving a handful of popcorn into her mouth to avoid having to respond any further.

Luckily, the news shows pans over to Alya standing in front of a screen showing a recorded feed of a warehouse. Not just any warehouse, but specifically the one on fourth that Maladroit had faced Red Hood in less than an hour ago.

Marinette feels her pulse quicken at the reminder of the close shave she'd had.

“Hey wait a second, those warehouses don't have security cameras at all? How'd they get this footage?” Jason complains, eyes narrowed at the TV.

It feels as though ice has been poured down her spine at his words. She freezes, body stiffening in shock. He's right… G said there's none because that's why he asked me to check things out. The only people who'd know this are Chat, Gamer, myself, and Red Hood and his gang. She swallows thickly and tries to subtly side-eye Jason. Oh no. I've been crushing on my roommate who works for Red Hood's gang? Oh god! The friend with the emergency was referring to Red Hood calling him into work!

She can't help but inhale a shallow panicked breath. He could've been one of the lackeys shooting at me and Chat this past week. Or, or I could've hurt him with my yo-yo. Or—

Jason turns to fully face, clearly registering the blatant panic on her face. “Hey, hey, hey, Marinette, you're okay, you're safe. What's wrong?”

“Are you working for Red Hood?” Marinette blurts out, accidentally, the words pouring out in an unintentional panicked rush. “Are you in his gang?”

He jerks back, fear, confusion, and hurt crosses his face. “Wh-what? What makes you think that?”

“His gang was just in that warehouse, and you were out on an emergency for a "friend". And how would you have known unless you were there tonight and working for his gang?” She chews her lip forcefully and winces as the taste of iron floods her mouth.

He reaches towards her, eyes widening concern.

She flinches back, suddenly reminded of how similar this is to that moment with Red Hood on the warehouse balcony.

Jason jerks back as if her flinching burnt him. Raising his hands, he leans away from her to give her some semblance of space. “Fuck. Look, I'm not going to hurt you! Have I ever hurt you whilst we've been roomies?”

Nervously, she shakes her head.

“I really care about you, Marinette. Hell, we've lived together for nearly a year now. I would never hurt you, okay! I promise.” Tears prick in his eyes, and he grimaces slightly, lowering his hands to rest on his lap. “Yeah, I uh, I'm working for him. But I do everything I can to keep work from following me home. I didn't tell you because I never wanted to scare you.”

Guilt gnaws at her. “I'm sorry! I shouldn't have judged. I—” She takes a shaky breath, “I really really care about you too. I'm just worried, what if Red Hood, or even Maladroit, or any of the other vigilantes hurt you? What if you get hurt in one of those gang wars?” Her words aren't lies but they're not the full truth either.

He sighs, “I can't promise I won't ever get hurt on the job. Maladroit and the other vigilantes do a lot of good but Maladroit especially is far too nice to hurt any of us. I've uh, seen her fight some of the others gang members, and been fought by her too. And out of everyone against the gang, she's the one who leaves us with barely more than a scratch at worst.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Most in the gang really respect her for that, y'know.”

Marinette's brain feels like the windows shutting down sound. “Oh. Oh.”

Sheepishly, he smiles half-heartedly at her. “Yeah.”

“So, is that why you were so adamant she's a fully-fledged vigilante in her right?” She asks, feeling bashful yet honoured whilst completely surprised.

Jason clears his throat and glances away. “Uh-huh.”

“Oh.” Her brain rewinds a moment. She splutters for a second, desperation racing through her. “Wait, she's fought you!?”

Full-on grimacing, he nervously laughs. “Left but a scratch!”

“Are you misquoting Monty Python right now? Oh good gods, that's the knight who says that after getting his limbs chopped off!” Marinette exclaims, looking every bit as horrified as her tone of voice conveys.

“Seriously, I've never gotten worse than a couple of minor cuts and bruises, I'm fine!” Jason reiterates.

She frowns and gingerly shuffles across the sofa closer to him. He keeps leaning back away, so she physically throws herself at him, pulling him into a tight hug. Incidentally burying her face in his shirt. “Okay, okay. Just, please let me know next time you get hurt. I've a friend who lived in a bad situation before, so I know how to help patch up minor injuries. Promise?”

Jason stiffens at the hug and slowly moves one hand to cup the back of her head whilst wrapping the other around her back. He shuts his eyes, cocking his head back and sighs. “Alright. I promise I'll tell you. And I'm sorry for keeping something this big from you. As I said, I was worried you'd be scared of me or that you'd get dragged into gang-related shit because of it.”

“You don't need to apologise.” Marinette mumbles in response, “I get it. I really do understand.” She bites at her sore bleeding lips again in guilt, her secret identity left unspoken on her tongue.

He shrugs, “so uh. I'm guessing you're still happy to stay roomies then, right?”

“Of course!” She responds without missing a beat hugging him even tighter.

Eventually, they release each other from the embrace to finish their now lukewarm hot chocolates and popcorn. The news continues playing, no longer forgotten in the background as the two try to act as if nothing has changed.

———

Jason collapses onto his bed with a heavy sigh. He pulls out his phone and rings a number on autopilot.

The dial tone plays as the line connects. “Hey, whaddup Jay?”

“Holy fucking shit balls, man.” Jason groans. “I fucked up.”

Roy hums, “like need help burying a body fucked up or what?”

Jason groans even louder, smushing his face into his bed covers. “My roomie is smart, right. I accidentally let a tiny detail slip when we were chatting whilst watching the eleven o'clock news as usual. And she now thinks that I'm in Red Hood's gang.”

There's a long pause, before Roy bursts into raucous laughter. “Holy shit, I'm dying! She's not wrong!”

“Yeah. I know. She ain't right either though.” He grumbles in response. “She was absolutely terrified when she realised. Nearly had a full-on panic attack and everything.”

“Oh fuck.” Roy helpfully says.

Jason grunts in agreement. “She was also real concerned that Red Hood or the vigilantes have hurt me.”

“Well, that's better?” Roy offers, sounding rather unsure of his own words.

“Yeah but she's taken thinking I'm some low-level member of my gang this badly, how the fuck d'ya think she's gonna take finding out I'm the big bad Red Hood himself?” Jason sighs. “I don't want to ask her out without her knowing this, 'cause it could endanger her.”

Roy hums again, “well, you've been roommates this long already and she's been completely safe from the Vigilante-Gang life so far.”

There's a gentle thump as Jason lifts his head and throws it into the sheets again out of sheer frustration. He relents, reluctantly. “That's true…”

“See. And since it sounds like she's not planning on moving out, clearly she doesn't mind living with you. Just ask her out to dinner already.” Roy adds, cheerfully.

Huffing, he rolls over on the bed. “I'm starting to feel like those weird girl slumber party ads with the creepy phone-a-boy games.”

Roy wheezes, followed by a thudding noise and the distant sound of his cackling.

“Wow. And to think I called you for help. I'm offended.” Jason goads with no bite, waiting a few seconds to hear Roy's response but it's just more laughter.

He rolls his eyes and ends the call, not like Roy will mind. Throwing an arm over his face, Jason barely refrains from grabbing his pillow to scream into. He doesn't, obviously. Because the walls are thin enough that Marinette might hear him and he's worried her enough this night as is.

Sighing like a lovesick protagonist in a period romance novel, Jason moves his arm to run his fingers through his own hair. A date. Just gotta ask her at some point, to dinner at a fancy-ish restaurant. It'll be fine, what's the worst that can happen?

Her terrified reaction on the sofa flashes through his mind, followed by the reminder of how small and scared Maladroit had seemed when she had fallen to her knees on the warehouse balcony. There was no way that she was faking the pain, like he'd initially thought. She had practically staggered in her mad dash to escape. And there's no way for me to find out whether she got to somewhere safe afterwards. God, she could be lying dead in some dank alleyway for all I know right now. Fuck, I hope she's okay...

He groans in distress and shifts in place. Already feeling like he really won't be getting any sleep at all tonight at this rate, thanks to his concern for those two.

———

| Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little fic! Comments, Likes, and Reblogs are much appreciated! |

| I decided to go close to canon for names this time, hence why Chat Noir remains unchanged but Max is Gamer (because A. that was his Akuma name, and B. he's like Player from Carmen Sandiego in this, couldn't help myself), and Marinette is Maladroit (from the first thing she calls herself in Origins). |

| Oh, also whilst it's not explicitly stated in the text; Marinette/Maladroit's has the power of luck/being lucky, Chat Noir has the power of being unlucky, and Red Hood has "Perfect Aim" aka he's a hitscan. Which is why Maladroit is able to dodge his bullets by making herself "lucky enough" to dodge in time. |

| Also feel free to send me any comments with any questions you have regarding this fic, I'll be more than happy to answer! |

| @jasonette-july-event |

#Maribat #MLB x DC #DC x MLB #Jasonette #Jasonette July #Jasonette July 2021 #JasonetteJuly2021 #JasMari #MariJay #Marinette x Jason #Jason x Marinette #Jasonette July Saturday Challenge #Jasonette July And They Were Roommates #Crack Your Bones and Say Those Lies #CYBaSTL #Sham's Posts #Sham's Writing #Sham's Fics

53 notes · View notes

meltwonu · 4 years

Text

| 🍒 CH-CH-CHERRY BOMB! 🍒 | [CHAPTER 5]

pairing; dom!seungcheol x camgirl!reader

this chapter’s notes; camshow, use of toys(sybian), squirting, the long awaited chapter 5 😳💕 do they finally meet?!?!?!?! hehehehehehe also sorry for not being able to post this yesterday, had a busy week and when I tell ya I woke up at 3pm today 😗 💕💕💕💕 as always, thank you so much for your continued interest!! I'm already writing ch 6 and im SOOOO EXCITEDDDD hHEHEHEHEEHEH 💕💕💕💕💕 HAVE A GREAT REST OF YOUR WEEKENDS! 🍒

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - ?

“You guys! I--you have to see this!”

You can’t wipe the smile off of your face when you shimmy to the side, excitedly showing off the new gift that Seungcheol had sent in the mail.

sleepy_wonu: holy hell

universe_WZ: that mustve costed hella

alphagyu97: nothin like feelin extra poor amirite lads

angelhan: it was only a matter of time before dom.cheol was untouchable lol

You giggle slightly as you adjust the camera so that you and your new sybian are in frame. “Hey~ Don’t say that!! Y’know it’s not the amount of money you spend on me… I’m glad you guys are always here with me~” The sound of coins clinking goes off in the back as you read a few more comments.

dom.cheol: well princess, don’t u wanna show them how you use your new toy? ;)

tangerine_kwan: fuck i bet it can get u to cum so fuckin fast

hoshi_tiger_xx: yessss

dom.cheol has donated $100

hoshi_tiger_xx has donated $50

“Hmm~ How many times do you think I can cum with this? Oh! Why don’t we do this~” You pause, sliding your wet panties down your legs before tossing the material to the side. You grin, swinging a leg over the toy until you’re straddling it. “Rapid fire question! Whoever guesses the right amount of orgasms I can take before I call quits… Wins a special unreleased photoset of me! Go!”

dom.cheol: 5

universe_WZ: 4

sleepy_wonu: 6

angelhan: 3 artist8hao: 5

alphagyu97: everyone took all the good numbers already!!! 7!!!!!

gentleman_josh95: DMAN IT 3

tangerine_kwan: 8, fuck

kitty_junjun: ugh i was gonna say 4!!!!

xcaliburDK: i was gonna say 5!!!!

therealchan99: 2? thats so low tho….

chwenon: as if anyone is gonna say 1, lmao. Uh 6…. If sleepy_wonu happens to disappear

hoshi_tiger_xx: im gonna say 10, but… seems… risky

Reaching for the remote, you situate yourself until the raised part of the toy sits directly on your clit. A shiver runs up your spine at the feeling; already excited for what’s in store. “Um, to be fair I haven’t tried it myself yet so I’m not sure either... Hehe, but I guess we’ll find out together, huh?”

Gulping, you set the sybian to its lowest setting, the air getting knocked out of your lungs immediately as your body lurches forward. “H--holy shit!” The vibrations are already harsh on the lowest setting; your fingers gripping the remote tightly as you try to adjust to the feeling. “O--oh my g-god, I--”

dom.cheol: aww can ur cute lil clit take it?

xcaliburDK: maybe one of the lower numbers was right lol…

The moans spill freely from your lips, garbled noises getting lost in the mix when you start to grind against the vibration. “Fuck, it--it feels suh--so good, hah, already feel like ‘m gonna cum…” You whine, already getting lost in the pleasure. For a second, you’re tempted to raise the vibration intensity but you hold back, letting your wetness coat the toy as you continue to grind down onto it. The sound of donations and comments sound fuzzy to your ears; only the sound of the sybian buzzing reminding you that the camera was still even on.

“Ngh, g-god, I’m--I’m gonna cum!”

tangerine_kwan has donated $75

xcaliburDK has donated $50

dom.cheol has donated $200

dom.cheol: cmon, lets see that pretty pussy cum

Your legs shake as you cum, only a squeak coming out of your mouth as you lurch forward atop the toy. The grip you have on the remote loosens while simultaneously trying to turn it off in the midst of your orgasm.

dom.cheol: awww cumming so hard on the first setting? Cute

therealchan99: lol baby is in trouble now

angelhan: maybe 3 was right lmao

“I--a-ah, fu--fuck!” You cry, shaky fingers finally managing to shut the toy off. Your body immediately untenses; chest heaving with how sensitive you already were and it had only been your first orgasm and the lowest setting of the toy. “O-oh my g-god, I--I didn’t know i-it was that s-strong…” You mumble, body buzzing with the remnants of your orgasm.

sleepy_wonu: well mr dom.cheol did pay top dollar

gentleman_josh95: imagine if u had this for yesterdays show lol

“Oh god, if--if I had this for yesterday’s show, I would’ve been too boneless to do today’s show!” You laugh airily, slowly grinding against the toy already. “It feels really nice though… I’m already super curious about how strong the other settings are…” Trailing off, you reach for the remote again, throat dry as you fiddle with the knob.

kitty_junjun: what if u set it to the max setting

chwenon: idk if her cute lil body could take it

dom.cheol: its okay baby, take ur time. I wanna see how sensitive that pussy of yours can get

“But ‘m already so sensitive~ I dunno how much more I can take~” You tease, biting your lip when all the comments flooding the chat are words of encouragement.

You knew when you started camming that it’d be no easy job. Building up your fanbase and subscriber count had taken you months upon months to even get within the thousands and camming was physically exhausting. Some days your viewer counts were low and some days they were above average and sometimes you didn’t make as much in one show than another.

tangerine_kwan: was therealchan99 right with 2 then? Heh

therealchan99: finally FINALLY ITS MY TIME TO SHINE

Giggling, you slowly start turning the knob; body twitching when the vibrations kick in at full force.

Seungcheol watches in amazement at the way your body jerks atop the machine.

He can see the way your legs twitch unbearably when you cum for the third time; your brows furrowed at the intensity of the vibrations and your taut body when you can barely manage to turn the machine off.

Licking his lips, he slowly thrusts up into his closed palm, spreading the precum down his shaft as he watches you catch your breath.

“I--ngh, fuh--fuck, I---I don’t--don’t know if I--I can cum a-again…”

Seungcheol moans at your breathy whimpers; the arousal in his body pooling up quickly when he sees the fucked out expression in your eyes. His eyes flit to the wetness that coats the silicone portion of the toy, smirking when he realizes how much you really seemed to enjoy the gift he’d gotten you.

Mentally patting himself on the back, he praises himself for making the right decision.

angelhan: please tlel me im the winner im begging

universe_WZ: NO

dom.cheol: is the princess tired already? ;)

You catch your breath, not wanting to give up despite how fuzzy your head was getting and how much your body was buzzing. “I dunno… We still haven’t tried the last setting, you guys… And I’m just so curious...” You whisper, hazy eyes staring into the camera.

hoshi_tiger_xx: god u look so pretty like this, all fucked out

artis8hao: right? fuck, id kill to be that guy who can get u off like this

xcaliburDK: goddamn same

The sound of coins clinking mixes with the ringing in your ears; fingertips already on the knob of the remote.

You take a deep breath, letting the adrenaline kick in as you quickly set the knob to the highest setting, a high pitched cry spilling from your lips when you let go of the remote in favor of holding onto the machine instead. Grinding down onto it, you meet the toy's harsh vibrations as it quickly forces another orgasm out of you in the matter of seconds.

Choked cries spill from your lips as your entire body tenses up; body twitching uncontrollably as you cum for the fourth time. You lean back with whatever energy you have left, bracing yourself on the back of the toy as you relieve your swollen clit of the buzzing machine. Your orgasm refuses to stop and you can already tell how obscenely wet everything’s gotten when your head starts to clear.

alphagyu97: fuck you squirted all over the toy baby

universe_WZ: fuck fucki fuck

universe_WZ: wait did i winf kjfhdsjk

You shakily slide off of the machine, resting on your side as the machine still buzzes with life next to you. Your entire body won’t stop shaking, head muddled as you fight the urge to shut your eyes and sleep for the next 5 days. “I’m--I--” You whimper, still feeling the phantom vibrations between your legs.

“I--ho--holy fuck, I, w-wow, I--I don’t--that--I’m, I’m just… wow.”

dom.cheol has donated $400

dom.cheol: knew you’d like it ;)

universe_WZ: THAT MEANS I WON

universe_WZ has donated $150

angelhan has donated $150

therealchan99: well, at least some of us got close

hoshi_tiger_xx: fuckin speak for urself man i said /10/

You end the show after letting ‘universe_WZ’ know you’ll contact him soon, shutting your eyes as you lay on your soiled sheets.

You can still feel your fingertips twitching when your eyes slide shut, chest heaving in deep breaths as you try to relax yourself, momentarily cursing yourself for pushing your body too far for tonight’s show.

Groaning, you reach for your phone, the screen lighting up with a text from Seungcheol, a simple ‘don’t forget to drink water ;)’ in your notifications and you can’t help but pout.

Seungcheol was nice, almost too nice. Definitely not in a murderer kinda way though, you think.

He bought you expensive gifts and never asked for anything in return which made you feel bad sometimes. And while the donations and tips you’d made through your camshows was enough to get by with, Seungcheol’s generous donations helped you always make your rent and bills on time without worrying if you’d have enough or not.

You quickly text him back with a smile on your face; hoping that he’ll like what you had to offer.

Seungcheol feels the exact same way he did when you first contacted him offering him a free show, except maybe ten times worse. At first, he’d been a little sad that he hadn’t won your quick little game but this made up for it 20-fold.

The six simple words read ‘want to meet up next friday?’, a small heart emoji next to the question and he’d almost thrown his phone when he read it, hands shakily responding with a simple ‘I’d love to.’ to make it seem like he was calm when he was most definitely not.

His immediate next order of business after replying was to text Namjoon despite how late into the night it already was, begging for the day off and offering to take any shifts or pay cuts in exchange for it.

All he needed was one day and he swore he’d never miss a day of work ever again.

Namjoon responds with a quick ‘sure, why not’, momentarily confusing him as to why his boss was awake while simultaneously sending Seungcheol into complete panic when he realizes he finally gets to meet you.

The week goes by extremely quickly to Seungcheol; his mood on a completely different level when he offers to pick up Yoongi’s Sunday shift without a complaint. He cleans up all the messes around the roller rink and even offers to do jobs that aren’t his which have Jeongguk raising a brow at the older male.

In the days that lead up to your meeting, Seungcheol looks up a few cafes that you might be interested in and even goes to get an STD exam, not that he’s expecting anything. Safety first, he says.

Your Wednesday show comes and goes, Seungcheol too excited to even get off when he watches you and he even donates an extra $600 at the end of the show; travel spending money, he offers.

And Thursday comes without a hitch and he all but skips to the employee backroom once his shift is over, humming a tune while he changes out of his uniform.

“Hey hyung, no offense, but are you okay?” Jeongguk rests against the locker next to Seungcheol’s open one, brow raised at the blue haired male that beams back at him. “I’m scared, why are you so… giddy. You even offered to take Yoongi-hyung’s weekend shift? What the hell was that about? I’ve never seen him that giddy either. Man, this place is getting weird, maybe I should quit...”

Seungcheol can’t help but laugh, patting Jeongguk on the shoulder before shutting his locker.

“I have an important meeting tomorrow, that’s all. And don’t quit, ‘cause who else is gonna give me free food.”

While the excitement had him since Saturday, now that it was finally Friday, he was downright nervous.

The two of you had agreed to meet at 2PM in front of the cafe that Seungcheol had picked out and you’d gotten a hotel in town to make it easier on yourself instead of trying to get back to your place too late. Seungcheol had offered to come pick you up, but you had politely declined; instead opting to meet him first before letting him do anything else for you.

And by nature, Seungcheol gets to the cafe 15 minutes early, fidgeting and continuously running his fingers through his hair as he patiently waits. He can feel his palms getting sweaty when he rubs them against his jeans, mentally trying to keep calm and his head floods with all sorts of thoughts; mainly, how he even got into this position with you in the first place. And he gets so distracted that he doesn’t realize you’d be standing watching him zone out for the last 5 minutes.

“Wow, not sure what’s got you so focused but you’re standing so still!”

Seungcheol hears your cute airy laugh that follows, a cherry blush on his cheeks when his eyes meet your smiling face. “I--oh my god…” He whispers, taking in your appearance.

He feels his face buzzing, fingers twitching when he sees you in a cute simple sundress. “W-wow, you--you’re just… so beautiful. I mean, you’re beautiful on cam too but just, wow, in person? Incredible.” The blush reaches his ears when he realizes he’s rambling, a nervous laugh spilling out of his lips.

“S--sorry, I, uh, usually I’m more chill than this but y’know…” He trails off, to which you nod. You step closer to Seungcheol and he gets a hint of your sweet smelling perfume, mentally groaning when your cute eyes peer up into his.

“That’s okay! I totally understand~ I’m kinda nervous myself too, to be honest…” You pause, a pink blush coating your own cheeks. “But let’s talk over some food, huh?”

Seungcheol doesn’t want to pry, but he’s not sure if he should address you as ‘Cherry’ in person, or if he should avoid calling you by anything at all.

He watches as you go through the cafe’s menu, biting the inside of his cheek as he itches to ask.

“‘Cheol… I can feel you staring, y’know.. Penny for your thoughts?” You ask, concerned eyes meeting his nervous ones.

“I just-- Sorry, I didn’t mean to be awkward, I just was wondering how I should address you in person? I don’t want to overstep my bounds, I know you don’t put your real name out there so…”

You place your menu down, closing it before leaning on your palms atop the small table. Seungcheol is cute, too cute, you think. You knew this would be a question when the two of you eventually met and you had given yourself the time to get used to the idea that he’d know your real name.

He eyes hyperfocus on your glossy lips, watching as you say your name for him for the first time.

Seungcheol’s heart threatens to beat out of his chest when he hears it; repeating it over and over in his head before he says it out loud.

“Wow, it sounds nice when it’s you saying it~” You tease, leaning back in your chair. “I don’t mind if you call me by my name, by the way! The pet names are cute but maybe we should keep that to the bedroom~” You end in a whisper, winking at the male.

Fuck, he thinks, just as his cock throbs at your comment. He really wishes you wouldn’t say things like that because he’s weak and he knows it, especially when it comes to you. “Okay, cool! Yeah, sorry, I just---I didn’t want to overstep, I know you don’t really let that be public information.”

“Of course! And thank you, I really can’t tell you how much you’ve done for me. I really… really wouldn’t be able to do all the things that I do if it weren’t for your constant support.”

You want to say more, but the waiter comes to take your orders, cutting you off until he leaves again.

“By the way…” Seungcheol looks at you with curious eyes, lips puckered around his drink straw. “Tell me about yourself, ‘Cheollie! I feel like we didn’t really get to talk that one time!”

He swallows the water in his mouth, licking his dry lips. Here goes nothing, he thinks.

“I swear, and please don’t think I’m a loser, but I--I work at a roller rink. It’s really not cool, I’m not some high paid CEO or whatever, I--I just, I work hard?” Seungcheol chuckles, running a hand through his hair as he waits for your reply.

“Wait, that’s so cool! Oh my gosh, I kinda wanna go!”

The surprise washes over Seungcheol, eyes wide as saucers when he hears you saying you’d want to visit his workplace. “Wuh---wait, seriously!?”

“Yeah! It’s kinda, like, retro! I haven’t been to one since I was a kid!” He quickly offers to bring you to the roller rink on Sunday so you could have somewhere to hang out while you were in town.

“And sadly, I took a shift on Sunday so you can hang with me while I work.”

Seungcheol grins, watching as you jokingly roll your eyes at him. “So you did it on purpose, huh…” The two of you share a laugh, glad that your first meeting seemed to be going okay so far.

“Well, I mean, if it makes you feel any better, my best friend works the concession stand so I’ll make sure to get you a free pair of skates and food whenever you want?”

“It’s a deal!”

The two of you continue to talk over your late lunch, Seungcheol telling you of the various work hijinks he’d gone through at his time working at the roller rink.

“Which, by the way, that morning show you did… Hope you know I holed up in the restroom for an entire hour for that ‘lil stunt.”

You can’t help the tears that fall from your eyes when you laugh, only feeling slightly bad for the blue haired male. “But I told you! Sometimes it’s just like that, y’know~” You tease back, heart blooming at the way you and Seungcheol got along.

In all honesty, there’d been something on your mind since you first sat down and you didn’t know when the right time to ask was, or if it was even appropriate.

The smile slips from your face as you bite the inside of your cheek in thought.

Seungcheol takes the bill from the waiter, slipping his card into the holder before you can even offer. But he notices the way your expression falls, noting the hesitance in your eyes when he looks at you from across the table.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” His voice is gentle, soft and caring when he leans over the table to make sure you’re alright.

“Yeah! Just---Can I ask you for a favor?”

#cherrybomb!cheol #seungcheol smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #scoups smut #scoups scenarios #scoups imagines #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol scenarios #svt scenarios #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #scoups #seungcheol

484 notes · View notes

satashiiwrites · 2 years

Text

Make a list of your favorite ships with your favorite tropes for them.

Tagged by the lovely @radio-chatter—thanks for the tag!

1. MReyder (Mass Effect Andromeda) is going to forever be my favorite ship of all time and the one i go down with until somehow BioWare retcons everything in some horrible way (please don’t take that as a challenge). I think the fact that we just get the barest of bare outlines of Reyes and Scott is my preferred Ryder sibling to play as… yeah. None of the other ships compare. I’m not big on having Scott date within his team and Reyes just has so much potential. He’s a character that lives in the shadows and has unclear canon goals. So yeah… of course i’m going to write a 600k and counting fic about them (An Andromeda Tale). If i had to pick a favorite type of thing it’s probably some of the quieter moments between them. I kinda see them as not being showy about who they are to each other in public due to their respective political affiliations/positions. Another thing I really adore in fics is when Reyes goes absolutely feral because someone did something to Scott—either because of his relationship with Reyes or just because he’s the pathfinder…. I’m not picky here. I mostly don’t read a ton of other writers fics nowadays but if i’m daydreaming of fic ideas it’s 90% of the time about these two.

2. Buddie (911) is the other ship that’s been preoccupying too much brain space as of late. Like what seems the majority of tumblr, I too have become a regular watcher of this little wee-woo show about first responders and Evan Buckley and Edmundo Diaz are my preferred couple (non-canon). If i got pushed for canon couple i suppose it would be Bathena but really i’m just a sucker for Buddie family stuff and don’t go looking for anything else. Or NavySeal!Buck fics hence Family, Familia, ‘Ohana. I’m blissfully about half a season behind on this show and my brain likes to be stuck back on either their first meeting in 2x01 or the tsunami and it’s aftermath. Someday i might move on to more recent events but there’s just so much to explore….

I also seem to have a thing for shower sex scenes… see Exposure Therapy or the Kiss Cam series.

Comfort fic recs: Leading with the Left by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels; Those Two Firefighters by Dark Fairytale; Leave the Light On (I’ll be Coming Home) by HMS Lusitania

3. McDanno (Hawaii 5-0). *sigh*. Why couldn’t they have been canon? I’m going to pretend like the majority of like the last three seasons doesn’t exist okay? The carguments. The saying ‘i love you’ casually. The calling each other pet names. The freakin’ cuddling on the couch together. The way that Danny likes to sit on the counter and talk to Steve. The heart-to-heart discussions on the beach… the way they met and Danny got Steve’s respect by punching him… That being said i still think my favorite episode is the one where Steve sneaks onboard the Missouri (I think it was the Missouri) and the old vet asks him if he’s talking to his wife (IIRC this is like the third or fourth episode…) and he’s just talking to Danny. Some of my favorite comfort read fics that I still circle back to are about these two impossible idiots. I also adore them in crossovers with Buddie.

Comfort reads: Signal Fire by Kaliadawn; War Dogs by Cattraine; Love’s a Battlefield (and the Navy Didn’t Train Steve for this Shit) by Cyerus

4. Sterek (Teen Wolf). I mean… who doesn’t have their vampire or werewolf phase? I’ve had both. When it comes to TW there’s a lot out there but the only thing that I really look for is Sterek when i’m in the mood. I’m also not a huge fan of Scott in general. I could potentially go for more peter/Chris/sheriff stuff but there’s not much out there. My ideal Sterek fic is usually either an AU or set in the future where Stiles and Derek are older and finally get together after everything they’ve been through. I also prefer Alpha!derek and Emissary!stiles in general with a side of not Scott friendly because woof dude… you’re a terrible best friend. Oh—another side couple there’s not enough of would be Dackson (Jackson/Danny) and I’m not opposed to Marrish in general either. But Sterek for life *waves flag*

5. Bradnate (Generation Kill, HBO war). Mostly because Stark Sands and Alexander Skarsgard just know how to stare at each other in the most intense marine way. My favorite fic out there is the one where Brad visits Nate in graduate school and Nate’s entire study group thinks they’re together when they’re not. Cue the whole fic being where Nate finally figures out Brad’s okay with being more than just friends (Tiptoe Through Our Shiny City by Dira Sudis). It’s just perfect okay?? Also there’s not enough fic out there.

I have a bunch of other fleeting attractions in other fandoms but these would be the ones that i read the most of. Other vague trips i’ve taken in the past include Mark Watney/Chris Beck from the Martian, Bagginshield, Stony, Ironhawk, ineffable husbands, Nathan Stark/Jack Carter from Eureka, anything from White Collar, Brian O’Conner/Carter Verone from the FF series, Brian/Dom, 00q, then there’s that whole Suits thing I had for Marvey that didn’t last…yeah. Everyone has there random asides.

Tagging whoever would like to play along…

#tagged #replies

11 notes · View notes

whump-mania · 3 years

Text

Barely Human: Chapter 1

TW: needles, body horror, gore, monsters, medical whump

Connie typed away at her computer, finishing up her studies for the night. She smiled with pride, proud of the research she had gotten done about the Noxes: the terrifying eldritch creatures that plagued the island Connie lived on.

She was getting closer and closer to finding something that could kill them. Everyone was counting on her: she WAS the renound scientist that figured out a cure for a Nox transformation, after all. Why wouldn’t they expect this of her?

Connie felt that she was just one puzzle piece away from finding the solution. All of the deaths and trauma caused by those monsters would finally cease, and the island would be itself again. Nox scientists could be scientists, Nox hunters could be hunters, Nox victims could be…well, not victims.

Connie closed her laptop when she finished up her last note, yawning deeply and rising from her office chair to get ready for bed. A full day of research could really tire someone out.

She made her way up to her bathroom, washed her face, and put pajamas on. Connie started pulling her long, black hair out of the messy bun she wore when—

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Connie jumped at the noise, almost screaming. That noise…that was the emergency tone. She checked her phone: it was 12:30 in the morning, who would be needing her so late?

She rushed to the small, silver communication device that was beeping loudly and violently on her work desk. She picked it up and pressed “answer”, effectively stopping the beeping.

Connie yawned. “Hey, who is th—”

“CONNIE!”

The scientist yelped and almost dropped the device. But she recognized that voice (of course she recognized it, she fantasized about it every day): it was Micah.

“O-Oh, Micah, hey, what’s—”

“C-Connie, are you—fuck, he’s BLEEDING, oh god—Connie a-are you free?”

Micah Saunders was the leader of the 3rd Nox Hunter team. He was confident, friendly, headstrong, and the most brilliant team leader Connie had ever met.

So it sent chills up her spine to hear such raw fear in his voice.

“Yes, I’m…I’m free, what do you—”

“C-Cameron, he’s…oh god…” Micah’s voice was muffled, as if his hand was covering his mouth. “A Nox, he got…he got bitten, Connie, he’s turning.”

“Oh, o-oh shit. Come here right away, I-I’ll get a room ready.” Connie started rushing down to her lab.

The call ended before she made it down the stairs to her laboratory. Connie hastily gathered the essentials for this kind of situation: a few syringes, leather restraints, and a beaker of light purple liquid: the serum that she herself had created.

Connie panted and waited down in her lab for the doorbell. She looked around her and sighed. “Cameron,” she whispered out loud. Cameron. Why was it always Cameron?

Cameron, the rookie. Cameron, the boy who joined Team 3 only two months ago. Cameron, the only member of all of the teams to never have sedated a Nox. Cameron, the “cute little readhead” that Micah was always raving about now.

Why. Did she always. Have to hear. About. Cameron.

Of course he got bitten, inexperienced little—

The doorbell shook Connie out of her thoughts. She pulled on a dirty lab coat, rushed up the stairs, and opened the door.

“Connie, thank god!” Connie was face to face with the fearless team leader, now with bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks. Micah rushed inside, urging the rest of his team inside.

Connie was passed by Micah, then Yvonne, then Oliver, then Russell: and in Russell’s strong arms, was Cameron.

Cameron looked horrible.

His face was coated with sweat, eyes uncontrollably leaking with tears. His hair was matted, his uniform was dirty, and pained moans left his pale lips.

But the worst thing of all was Cameron’s arm. His uniform was torn through, and on his freckled skin was a deep gash, pulsing and leaking blood that was pure black. The wound was spreading to the rest of his arm, his veins turning black and swelling to the surface of his skin.

Connie wanted to throw up.

The scientist rushed the five of them down to her laboratory and quickly strapped Cameron into an examination chair with the leather restraints. The rest of the team did whatever they could to help.

As Connie filled a syringe with her serum, Micah leaned over Cameron’s chair.

“Cam, can you hear me? You’re gonna be okay, I promise, just—just stay with me, okay?” Micah’s voice rang in Connie’s ears. All of that fuss for him.

She shook her head. Don’t think about that right now, you have a job to do. The scientist strode over to the boy strapped in the chair, and without any hesitation, stabbed the pulsing wound with the needle.

Cameron’s scream was inhuman. It ripped from his throat, probably shredding it to pieces, and even Yvonne jumped back. Oliver screamed too, Russell covered his ears, and it took everything in Micah’s power not to rip Connie away from his teammate.

The syringe was finally pulled away when the serum had effectively seeped into Cameron’s wound. It stopped pulsing, and became slightly less swollen. His veins began to turn back to their normal color. Cameron took deep gasps of air, still hazy from the pain.

Connie stepped back, and turned to the rest of the team. “Um…yeah. First dose is done.” She gave them an awkward smile. She just wished they would stop looking at her like she just killed him.

Micah snapped out of whatever trance he was in and cleared his throat. “Thank you, Connie. Thank you so, so much, you’re a lifesaver.” Connie couldn’t hide the redness that formed st her cheeks, or the smile that crept onto her face. “O-Of course…”

Yvonne scoffed. “It’s her JOB, Micah, chill.” She turned to the scientist. “How long’s this gonna take?”

Connie shrunk a little at Yvonne’s harsh tone. The strong, stoic woman had always intimidated her. “Uh…probably, like, two? T-Two weeks? Maybe three.” She turned back to Cameron. “It’s…not as bad as it could be.”

“It’s late.” Russel’s deep voice filled the room. Oliver spoke up as well, wringing his hands nervously. “He’s right…our boss will get worried.”

“Then let’s go,” Yvonne snapped, turning to leave. Russel and Oliver quickly followed her up the stairs, and Micah trailed behind.

“You promise he’ll be okay?” Micah asked the scientist. Connie gave him the most reassuring smile she could.

“Promise.”

Micah returned the smile and ran up the stairs, leading his team home. Connie was alone again…no, not alone. He was still here.

Connie sighed and found her clipboard. The first dose was just given, the second would be tomorrow morning at 8, the third at 6…

Cameron’s pained whines broke Connie’s gaze from her clipboard. “C…Con…” His voice was raspy and weak, his attempt to say Connie’s name dying in a cough.

Connie put her clipboard down and walked in front of Cameron. “Do you need something?” She asked, keeping her distance even though he was tied down.

Cameron’s whole body shook. “H-Hurts…need…” Another cough. Connie tried not to roll her eyes as she sighed deeply.

“I can’t give you anything. The serum’s all you get. Sorry.”

She tried to block out Cameron’s whimpers as she packed up her supplies and headed back upstairs. “It just HAD to be him,” Connie whispered to herself before getting in bed.

She dreamed of Micah.

By the fourth dose, Cameron had improved. A little bit.

The wound was still gory, the pain was still intense. That wouldn’t change until about the tenth dose. But it wasn’t spreading anymore, and that’s all Connie really cared about. The world didn’t need anymore damn Noxes.

Connie made her way downstairs to deliver the fifth dose. She was irritated: she didn’t like having someone in her lab, it was her safe space. Her place to be alone with her thoughts. And now, it was occupied by the last person she wanted to think about.

Cameron let out a weak “Hey” when Connie came downstairs, which was promptly ignored. She wanted to get this stupid drug into this stupid kid and get this stupid situation done and over with.

“I’m glad you’re—” Cameron paused to cough. “—H-Here. It’s, um…it’s getting k-kinda… bad.” Silence. “How…are you?” Cameron tried again. He wanted to make conversation, to feel more like a patient and less like a test subject. But he was only ignored again as the syringe filled once more.

Connie made her way to the redhead strapped to the chair. She grimaced at his wound: the one thing keeping her from having a fairly peaceful week. Her eyes trailed up to Cameron’s: they weren’t that green, like Micah had said.

Connie’s heart fell a little when she thought about Micah. When she thought about how he constantly talked about Cameron, how he got so attached to the boy only days after meeting him when it took herself years to get close with Micah.

Connie looked at the syringe in her hand. Her finest work. The serum that had won her numerous awards, and endless praise, and that made her the one spark of hope for the island.

The serum that was being wasted on some boy.

Connie looked Cameron dead in the eye. Cameron’s eyes filled with confusion, and he laughed nervously. “Are you gonna…”

With that, Connie turned around. She strode to the trash can she kept near her work table, and opened it. Cameron strained his neck to watch her.

Their eyes met. Connie narrowed hers as she angled the tip of the syringe into the can. Cameron’s widened.

“W-What are you—”

SPLAT.

The rememants of the syringe landed in the bottom of the waste basket. Connie turned, and without a word, she placed the empty syringe on the counter with a clang and left.

Cameron’s breath quickened. He shot a look to his arm. He hadn’t lied: the wound was swelling, and leaking more than it should be. And the serum that was supposed to be in his arm was in the trash can.

“No…no, no, this can’t…” Cameron started to struggle. His stomach turned and he suppressed a gag when something began to creep out of the wound. A small, black tendril inched out, waving around before growing in length and slowly constricting around Cameron’s arm.

“Help! HELP! COME BACK, PLEASE!” Cameron cried desperately. He sobbed as more small tendrils broke their way through his skin. He was screaming at the top of his lungs for Connie, for ANYONE, to help him.

An hour passed.

Two. Three.

Seven. Eight.

An entire day.

Two days passed, and Cameron was still strapped to that chair.

Except it wasn’t exactly Cameron anymore.

Now, there was a Nox in that chair.

#whump #whump blog #whump community #whump writing #whumpee #whumper #caretaker #female whumper #male whumpee #medical whump #tw needles #tw body horror #tw gore #monsters #Connie #Micah #Cameron #barely human

51 notes · View notes

moldisgoodforyou · 4 years

Text

the 5 times jj fake proposed and the 1 time he did for real

warnings: cursing, mentions of sex

wordcount: 2.4k

the first time he fake-proposed, he was drunk. when he was drunk, jj felt like he needed to proclaim his feelings to the world. he was ultra-touchy with charlie and liked whispering sweet nothings in her ear, and then liked bragging about her to his friends just as much. they were at beta’s spring formal and they were both at the level of drunkenness (after way too many glasses of champagne) where everything was funny.

“I’m gonna marry you, charlie.” he promised, catching her lips in a sweet kiss. she laughed, pushing his shoulder. “you’re drunk, silly.” he dropped to one knee in the middle of the dance floor, wearing a goofy grin. “charlie walker, will you marry me?” she rolled her eyes and hauled him up by the arms before too many people could notice. “eventually.” he laughed and grabbed a slim napkin ring from the formal dinner table, slipping it on her finger. it was way too big and fell off almost right away, but she stuck it in her purse anyway.

the second time, jj had just won his intramural football championship (thanks to charlie’s coaching) and they were celebrating at the bar afterward. he was running high on emotions, had a streak of dirt on his face from a tackle and was a little bruised, but was having the time of his life. on his third trip back from the bar, he found a little silver ring on the ground and pocketed it. his arm was slung around charlie’s shoulders all night, and after the second round of playing thunderstruck, he felt compelled to propose. again.

“charlie, you know I love you, right?” she reached up and swiped her thumb across his cheek, grinning. “of course I do.” he got down on his knee and fished out the ring from his pocket, smirking up at her. the cocky smile was enough to tell her he wasn’t serious. “maybank -” she warned, but he shook his head to cut her off. “listen, listen! I want to spend the rest of my life with you -” one of his brothers nudged him, wary. “dude, are you really gonna propose like this?”

charlie laughed, crossing her arms as jj shoved him away. “let me finish, let me finish! will you marry me, charlie?” charlie just sent him an amused smile, shaking her head. jj stood quickly and grabbed her around the waist, swinging her around. “she said yes!” he yelled out, pressing a sloppy kiss to her cheek. she giggled as he slid the ring onto her thumb (the only finger that would fit). “I didn’t say anything!” he nudged his nose against hers, grinning. “shh, pretty girl, do you want free drinks or not?”

“I hate you.” she responded with a smile, blushing.

he nipped his teeth at her bottom lip. “come on, don’t talk like that to your fiancé.”

“oh my god.”

the third time, the two of them were surfing back in the outer banks. they were teasing each other all day, doing stupid shit like dropping in on each other’s wave and yelling flirty things when the other was riding a wave to catch them off balance. (jj even went as far to tackle charlie off her board in the still waters - just for fun.) after a few hours of surfing, they both laid on their backs on their boards out past the waves, arms draped over their eyes to shield them from the sun.

jj reached out and took her hand, floating her closer. “did you know otters hold hands when they sleep, so they don’t float away from each other?”

“really? that’s cute.” charlie mused with her eyes shut, about to fall asleep from the rocking of the waves.

“it’s adorable.” jj agreed. he pulled a piece of kelp from the water and stashed it in the pocket of his board shorts. “would you get married now?” charlie was way too used to his casual talk about the future by now, and didn’t even open her eyes. she squeezed his hand and smirked to herself. “depends, who’s asking?”

jj didn’t waste a beat to launch himself onto her board, promptly sinking the two of them. “charlie walker!”

she yelped, sputtering a little as she surfaced. “what was that for?!”

he splashed a little water toward her. “you know what that was for!”

she laughed, ducking away. “I couldn’t resist."

he rested his arms on her board as they treaded water and pulled the string of kelp out from his pocket. “I’m asking. would you marry me?” she eyed the kelp skeptically, then shot the look at him. “j. if that’s your idea of a proposal, you need to do better.” the tips of his ears turned red and he tossed it aside, putting on a smile. “I’m just kidding!” she gave him a short kiss, then nudged him off her board. “come on, one last wave. I’m tired.”

the fourth time, they were on the kiss cam at a south carolina football game. they were visiting for homecoming, one year after graduating, and he had been hinting at getting married more than his usual amount. just the week before, she almost had a heart attack when she found a small velvet box in his drawer, then realized it was just a pair of cufflinks she had given him before.

she wasn’t sure why she was so nervous about the idea of a proposal, exactly - she loved jj with her whole heart and couldn’t picture herself with anyone else, but the idea of such a big commitment was just...scary.

the kiss cam panned over toward them and she laughed before leaning over to catch his lips with hers - but he pulled away, getting on one knee. charlie stopped breathing. “jj.”

he grinned.

the stadium was dead silent.

charlie looked like she wanted to cry.

jj nudged her quickly, realizing he fucked up, and mouthed free drinks at her. she exhaled and nodded with a tiny smile and he got up quickly, hugging her tight so she didn’t break down and cry in front of the entire south carolina fanbase. the stadium erupted in cheers and the camera panned away as the game resumed.

he held her close for a long beat, wincing as she dug her nails into his arm. “I’m going to fucking kill you.” charlie murmured into his ear. he laughed weakly. “too far, huh?” she pulled away from the hug and pressed her hand over her heart, eyes bright and a little teary. he ran his hand through his hair, grimacing. “love you?” he tried.

she sat and pulled him down to sit with her, resting her head on his shoulder. “you need to knock it off.” he turned and kissed the top of her head, genuinely feeling bad. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, it was stupid.”

she pulled out her phone and showed him the numerous texts constantly lighting up her screen - especially the ones from her mom and dad. he gulped and charlie had to admit she felt a little satisfaction at him being uncomfortable too. “yeah, have fun explaining that one to my parents.”

jj had never been more thankful for a fluke south carolina win that day - he was pretty sure that was the only thing that got him out of the doghouse that weekend.

the fifth time, jj and charlie had just returned from a wine tasting tour on their anniversary and the sixth glass of rosé went straight to jj’s head. they were both handsy in the uber on the way home and barely made it through the doorway of their apartment before jj managed to pull charlie’s halter top off. he picked her up as she wrapped her legs around his waist. “can we at least make it to the bedroom?” she giggled as he peppered kisses all over her face.

he bit her bottom lip playfully and set her on the kitchen counter. “you’re lucky I didn’t take you right then and there at the last winery.”

“j.” she protested, running her hands through his hair. “bed.”

“patience, pretty girl.” he pulled back slightly to yank his shirt over his head and toss it aside, then resumed kissing her, hard. he trailed a hand up her side, brushing his thumb over her nipple and loving the way she arched her back into his touch. “fuck, j, come on.” she whined, tugging at the waistline of his pants. he swatted at her hand and picked her up again, nipping at her neck as he walked them into the bedroom.

afterward, he kissed her sweetly, pulling the sheet up over her chest. “happy anniversary, j.” she told him with a smile.

“I love you so damn much,” he replied with a grin.

jj rolled over and rummaged around the nightstand for a second, pulling out a black velvet box. charlie shook her head immediately, reaching over and grabbing his wrist. “jj, no.” he paused, glancing at her with a confused expression. “I’m not joking this time -” she shook her head again. “jj, please, not now.” she pleaded. "but I -” she kissed him quickly to shut him up and took the box from him, her heart racing.

“please.”

he sighed, resigned, and took the box back to shove it back in the nightstand. “it’s never gonna happen at this rate.” charlie frowned and kissed him soundly. “no, j, just...not like this. I’m ready. but not like this.” that was enough to turn his mood around. “you’re ready? you’re sure?” she smiled a little and nodded. “yes. I promise.”

the last time, they were at their favorite lookout spot in berkeley. they had shared a lot of big moments there (a job promotion, a raise, their first real discussion about future children) and he knew he had one chance to get the moment perfect - since he had fucked up the first five times. he did everything right - called her parents in advance (less for her dad’s blessing, more for the courtesy), told grace beforehand, and had scheduled a photographer to wait in the bushes for the exact moment.

he was acting strange all day, to the point that charlie thought he was even a little bit mad at her for something she did.

she should have caught on, given that he got her a gift card to get her nails done a week ago - and her nails were hardly ever polished. but she appreciated the random gesture and got them done anyway, kind of loving the look. she should have caught on when he told her to wear his favorite dress (“you know, the one with the little blue flowers”) for a picnic up on the hill.

lucky for jj, she was pretty much clueless and went along with it when he pulled on a short-sleeved button down and dress pants, saying he needed to ‘break them in’ - weird, but whatever.

he slipped the ring in his pocket without the box, afraid the outline would tip her off. as they drove up to their spot with a cooler he packed in the back, he tapped his thumb on the wheel anxiously. “rough day at work, hon?” charlie asked sympathetically. he shook his head. “nah, just...jittery. dunno, must have drank coffee too late at work or something.” she nodded and reached over, squeezing his thigh reassuringly. he flinched away, scared she was going to feel the ring and she furrowed her brow. “jj, what’s up?”

he laughed, a little high-pitched. “nothing! nothing, just the coffee.” he lied, horribly. “...right.” she replied, dubious. he pulled up to the lookout and grabbed the cooler and blanket from the backseat, stashing the champagne under the car seat before she could see. as they laid out the picnic items, his hands were shaking like hell. charlie took his hands in hers and stepped close, kissing him softly. “you sure it was just the coffee, jj?”

he took a deep breath, looking around at their surroundings to make sure everything was in order. “sorry, just - I think I forgot something in the car, I’ll be back.” he left her standing there, confused and jogged back to the car. he checked over his pockets for the twelfth time that day, making sure he had the ring, then walked back. she had walked further out to the lookout, a few steps away from the blanket, and he decided to make his move.

jj walked up behind her then dropped down to one knee, pulling the ring out of his pocket. “charlie -” he started, shaky, and she turned around and immediately slapped a hand over her mouth. “oh my god.”

“charlie walker, I -”

“you’re not joking, are you? please don’t say you’re joking.” tears were already welling up in her eyes and he grinned. “will you let me finish?”

she nodded, smiling ear-to-ear, a hand still pressed to her lips.

“charlie walker, the last three years loving you have been the best three years of my life and I can’t picture spending the rest of it with anyone but you.” he paused, blinking away what he swore wasn’t tears. “will you marry me?”

she practically tackled him to the ground in a hug, meeting his lips in a heated kiss.

he pulled back, laughing. “wait, wait, is that a yes?”

she nodded, grinning. “yes, god yes!”

he beamed, shifting her to his lap. “wait, you haven’t even seen the ring!” she laughed, kissing him again. “I don’t even care.” he took her hand and slid the ring on her finger, carefully. she gasped when she saw it, tears welling up again. “oh my god, j, it’s perfect.” he grinned. “yeah? I had a little help from your friends.”

she admired the ring, then gasped as she realized. “is this my grandmother’s?” he nodded with a proud smile. “she wanted you to have it, since you’re the only granddaughter. I got tipped off that you’d always loved it.” charlie’s bottom lip quivered and he laughed, pulling her into a kiss. “stop crying! this is supposed to be happy!”

she laughed. “I know, I know! I just...it’s all so perfect, jj. god, I love you.”

he grinned. “now you’re stuck with me forever, sweetheart.”

charlie beamed. “I can’t fucking wait.”

#jj maybank imagine #jj x charlie #mine #jj maybank #jj maybank obx #jj maybank x oc #jj maybank fanfic #idk about the last one

170 notes · View notes

countessofbiscuit · 3 years

Text

cherry picked

Find yourself someone who looks at you like Lady RaRa looks at a Coruscant Guardsman.

OCs with a side of Foxiyo. 1400 words. Teen. Also on Ao3.

A Star Wars adaptation of this story. Happy Valentine’s Day!

♥ ♥ ♥

“Why is that on?” Fox asked upon coming in off the balcony. The new penthouse viewscreen was for sports, soaps, and stakes; the holonews offered none of that, and was garish and obnoxious besides. Who wanted to watch debacles and disasters in half time with inane commentary? Fox had his own HUD for that.

Jammy tried to stand up reflexively. Fox’s heavy hand on his shoulder told the captain he’d do better to stay casual and answer on his shebs. “Piers’s interview, sir — it’s supposed to air during the nine o’chron news.”

“Ah.”

Lieutenant Piers had been in the right place at the right time with the right face during the rehearsals for Republic Day, and had gotten tapped to escort a galactic pop star down some stairs. Fox hadn’t seen it live, having been stood below the Chancellor’s dais to take the salute. But he’d seen reams of cam footage since. And holos. So many heart-eyed holos.

The Senate Public Affairs office was always looking for quick wins for the army, but they had a PR endurance ruck on their hands with the Guard: door-kickers, boot-lickers, box-tickers, and generally unpopular. Piers had told Fox that Rugeyan happened to be standing nearby at the deciding moment, and that it’d been his idea to have a Corrie grunt to do the honors on this, the first wartime Republic Day.

But it was Lady RaRa who had the real flashbang of brilliance by asking Piers to remove his helmet for the cams and kissing a clone on both cheeks, before she stepped up to the mic to belt out the Republic anthem.

At least, that was the general opinion of the Guard, especially the gaggle gathering ‘round the screen.

Piers himself was absent that evening. His duties hadn’t ended when the spotlights cut out. After earning a reprieve from staff duty for a successful one-man rapid clear of the penthouse a couple weeks back, when his CO had been inbound with a very particular DV, he’d landed himself dignitary duty in the run up to the annual celebrations. Plum job or punishment, depending on your assignment of principals.

Fox was pouring out the last of the liquor he and Senator Chuchi had recently shared, unbelievably eager to see her again, when the opening bars of the “All Stars Burn as One” tinkled from the speakers and a great roar of excitement billowed from the lounge.

“Yesterday’s Republic Day celebrations at the Senate were distinctly martial in nature, as the Republic marked its 979th year and nine months of conflict with CIS forces,” began the HNE anchor. “One soldier, however, captured the attention and hearts of everyone when he gallantly escorted singer Lady RaRa before she sang the Republic anthem. One of our correspondents spoke with the clone trooper after the ceremony yesterday.”

Fox ambled over from the bar to get a view of the screen. It cut to some busy scene in the Dome portico. And there was the guardsman of the hour, running a hand through that damn hair of his, a finger’s breadth taller than regulation, and wearing his service medal — the one Fox had declined in favor of the junior officer who’d actually shot down that hijacked convict vessel and rescued the CSF officer with some quick-thinking and a jetpack. Fox had merely picked Piers and piloted the peppered pursuit gunship — a singular act for a marshal commander, but not exactly award-winning. Not outside Corrie’s atmo, certainly.

“Lieutenant Piers, tell us how you were chosen for the privilege of leading out Lady RaRa,” the reporter asked.

Piers had no formal media training, but he was a consummate soldier. Fox wasn’t too nervous. Besides, there was Rugeyan himself in the background, wonderfully breaking the fourth wall, staring alternately at the back of Piers’s head and at the reporter behind the cam as he listened in, finger in his ear, like the consummate dingbat he was.

“Well, they’d almost finished rehearsing for the function, when it was flagged to the MC that Lady RaRa would be wearing this very beautiful, very large dress,” Piers began. “And obviously, there was a concern — there are a lot of steps outside the Dome and she might need some help. And the MC looked ‘round and I was standing there, no helmet at the time, and I guess —” smirking a little into the cam — “he just liked the look of me. And there was some back-and-forth, ‘cause I wasn’t really supposed to be dressed for the occasion, I was just security. But since I was definitely one of the, uhh, taller and larger individuals around and sturdily dressed myself, they asked if I wouldn’t mind and I said I’d be happy to.”

Even if Rugeyan hadn’t fixed it, Piers had said there hadn’t been much competition for the honor: a bunch of interns, old civil servants, and some Blueys who weren’t impressive enough to be stationed in the visible parts of the ceremony. Still, as he’d been randomly shunted over from a command unit at decant and was one of Dodger’s gym groupies, he wore his armor very well.

“When did you first meet Lady RaRa?”

“About fifteen minutes before the ceremony.”

“You must have been nervous.”

“A little.”

“Were you familiar with her music? Any favorite songs?”

Piers’s reply was drowned out as the lounge audience enthusiastically offered up their own opinions. Maybe Lady RaRa was the key to really engaged briefings.

“Tell us your first impression of her.”

Piers bit his lip, charmingly. “Pretty. Kind. And funny — said we had an equal chance of tripping over her dress. That cut the ice pretty quick.”

“You said something to her in the doorway. What was that?”

“We’d been waiting up there a while and I felt her start to �� well, she seemed a little nervous and it just seemed a natural thing to do, the right thing to do to reassure her, before the spotlights hit us.”

Fox smiled. Aristos, politicians, and celebrities all put their panties on one leg at a time — and sweated into them just the same. Delightfully. Fox knew, because he’d recently sucked a senator’s face and spread her skirt on the couch now crammed with soggy guardsmen.

“What did you tell her?” the reporter pressed.

“I said, ‘Hey, ma’am, you’re a great performer, really brilliant. You’ll do a cracking job. You always do.”

Various sounds of approval, some more crude than others, echoed this, and Piers was roundly urged to get in. The din only magnified when a holopic of The Kiss flashed up next to Piers’s head. Fox didn’t catch the next few seconds, as sergeants were finding it bloody difficult to silence other sergeants, but the lieutenant continued to smile and nod placidly at the volley of prodding questions which sought out his embarrassment. For the first guardsmen on HNE, he was doing pretty brilliantly himself. Speaking like he’d been there, done that, and bought the ashtray.

Eventually, the reporter could be heard again. “What did you think of her performance?”

“It was phenomenal. And her dedication to the troops at the start was very heartfelt. I hadn’t — no one had expected her to do that.”

“Is there anything else you’d like to share, lieutenant?”

“Yes. That I was really proud to represent the Republic Guard.” Fists punched the hushed air below Fox, but no one made a sound. Everyone wanted to hear this. “It was an honor and I hope I did my brothers proud with this one. Trillions of people have now seen Lady RaRa with a guardsman — with a clone.”

The lounge erupted. Piers would never have to pour another drink for himself in his short life. Red and whitejobs alike would be lining them up for klicks.

The anchor reappeared on screen. Fox was about to sew sky back to barracks when his compad vibrated: a haptic alert for time-sensitive messages. He popped his bucket on and pulled it up. A transfer request from Thorn. Apparently, Lady RaRa had been assigned DES for her trip home. And she’d enquired after Lieutenant Piers specifically.

Fox actually grinned. He approved the request immediately, gratified at this convenient and curious opportunity to return Piers’s favor. Her yacht was fucking luxe and it was a mighty long jump to Cantonica …

#commander fox #coruscant guard #foxiyo #the clone wars #clone troopers

29 notes · View notes

jjdoggies-fanfics · 4 years

Text

Prompt #53

Prompt: I See You In Here At Least Four Times A Day Maybe You Should Get Checked For A Coffee Addiction?

There was nothing Vanya liked to do more, than simply sit at the window counter, sipping her coffee, her laptop in front of her, absolutely no work getting done on her latest writing project, just watching people passing by the coffee shop. Most days of Vanya’s since finishing college were spent like this.

Occasionally she’d get enough work done to send a comprehensible manuscript to a few publishers, get rejected, again, and start all over again. But most days, not much more than a sentence or two would make it to the page.

But two weeks ago, something different happened.

As Vanya actually got some work done, nearing her second full page for the day, when someone slid onto the stool next to her’s. Vanya gave whoever it was a quick “Hello.” keeping her eyes on the page, determined not to loose her pace.

She kept working silently, occasionally sneaking peeks at the, handsome, guy sitting next to her between sips of her coffee. After another hour, her coffee nearing empty and halfway down her fourth page, the guy gave her a quick “Bye.” and left without another word.

Vanya took a break from her work, getting another coffee and a sandwich for a late lunch. As she settled back onto her stool, she noticed that the guy had left a napkin on the counter. Vanya grabbed it, and as she moved to throw it away, she noticed there was something written on it ‘Five’. What the hell does that mean?

She tossed away the napkin with the odd word, already fading from her mind as she finished off her lunch and continued working until it neared, ironically enough, 5, before packing away her stuff, cleaning up her space, and heading back to her apartment.

The next day, like the many, many days before, Vanya returned to the coffee shop just after breakfast, getting her daily coffee before launching into her work. Oddly inspired for the second day in a row, cranking out another 2 pages before someone slid onto the stool next to her’s. Again.

Vanya gave a quick “Hello.” again, getting one in return. Sneaking a look over, she noticed it was the same guy as yesterday, only today, he also had his laptop. Not wanting the stranger to think she was weird, Vanya returned to her work, albeit at a much slower pace than before.

The two typed away in silence, taking occasional sips of their coffees, before he asked, “You come here often?”

‘Just about everyday for the past two years.’ Vanya thought as turned a bit to face the guy while she said, “You could say that. How about you?”

“Not until recently.” The guy was giving her some look she couldn’t quite figure out as he said, “Moved here recently, trying out a few spots.”

“Oh,” Vanya said, hearing the playfulness in the guy whose name she still didn’t know’s voice, “and how’s that been working for you?”

When he didn’t reply nearly instantaneously, Vanya kicked herself for pushing it too far. And just before she could apologize for her socially awkward ass, he said, saving Vanya from further embarrassing herself, “I’m really likin’ this place. Quaint shop. Actually decent coffee. Kind of below the radar. And the view’s not too bad.”

But he hadn’t been looking out the window, rather at her. Okay.

“What’re you drinking?” he asked, nodding to her cup.

“Oh, um,” Vanya stammered, god why was she so awkward, “just a latte. You?” God why couldn’t she think of anything actually interesting to say?

“Don’t worry about it.” he said as he pushed away from his stool. The only reason Vanya knew she hadn’t scared him off just quite yet.

Trying to keep an eye on the mysterious guy’s stuff as she tried to get a little bit more work in for the day, not very successfully, Vanya couldn’t help but wonder who he was. In no time at all, mystery guy returned, holding a coffee in each hand, dropping one next to her nearly empty cup and the other next to his own. “Thanks.” she told him, “But you really did have to do that.”

As Vanya took a quick sip, finishing off her first coffee, he told her, “My father may have been an asshole,-” weird but, okay, “-but he at least taught me to always buy a pretty girl a drink.” which totally did not make Vanya choke on what little coffee was still in her throat.

The guy packed up his stuff again, trashing their empty coffee cups, and moved to leave with another short “Bye.” and a smile on his face.

“Wait,” Vanya called, stopping the guy, “Five. What does that mean?”

The guy waited for a moment before saying, “My name.”

“Your name?” Vanya repeated, “That’s your name? Five?”

The guy, Five, nodded, smug grin plastered on his face, “Can I get yours?”

How was this dude so smooth? “Vanya.” she told him before he left with the ring of the coffee shop’s bell.

Vanya didn’t see Five again for two days. Seriously contemplating the possibility that she had in fact scared him off, causing him to never return to that coffee shop again in fear of running into her again, and likely messing with her by telling her his name was Five.

“Vanya.” a voice, his voice, called from behind her, and as she turned in her seat to look at him, she could see that once again he was holding two coffees; taking her’s from him with a quick “Thanks.” as he settled into what she now referred to as ‘Five’s seat’ he teasingly asked, “You miss me?”

She looked him in the eye, laughing as she teased him, “Your ugly mug? Not at all.”

Five rolled his eyes at her response and as he settled into his seat, instead of pulling out his laptop today like he had before, he pulled out a calculator, a pen, and a notebook with pages of equations Vanya couldn’t hope to begin deciphering.

“No computer today?” Vanya asked, taking another sip at her latte. A bit surprised that he’d remembered her go to order.

“Not today.” Five said, “Gotta get some calculations for my research done.”

Vanya raised an eyebrow at him, asking him in rapid succession,“Research? And what is this research? Anything interesting? Is it for NASA? The CIA? The FBI?”

Five, thankfully, laughed at her teasing questions, but did tell her, “Nothing too fascinating. Just some equations for the theoretical possibility of hypothetical warping of time and space.”

“Huh?” Vanya asked him, because what the fuck just cam out of his mouth?

“Time travel.” Five simplified before asking, “What about you? What’re you working on?”

Vanya gave him a shrug, telling him, “Just some stupid writing thing.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes again, “I’m sure it’s not stupid. I told you what mine was about, so now you tell me what yours is about.” Vanya tried to explain the plot of the book she was working on, a medieval fantasy that her, hopeful, publishers wanted for the children’s demographic, barely keeping her discontent with the book out of her voice.

But apparently she didn’t do a well enough job because Five asked her, “And you hate it?”

“Yep.” Vanya told him, “But it’s what they want, and it’s my job to give it to them.”

“Fuck them.” Five said, “Write whatever the fuck you want.”

Although she appreciated his support, Vanya told him, “I’ve tried that. Countless times, and they always reject it.”

Five didn’t reply, looking quite angry before turning towards his work and began frantically scribbling, muttering various things Vanya couldn’t quite hear to himself. After a few moments of Five muttering himself, Vanya took that as an obvious sign that their conversation was finished and returned to her work as well.

What felt like 10 minutes later, Vanya took a finishing sip of her latte as she looked at the clock on her computer, only to realize it had been nearly 2 hours. Vanya slipped off her stool, tossing her empty cup before moving to the shop’s counter and ordering another latte for herself, and a black coffee for Five; partially because he had gotten her a coffee early, and partially because he still hadn’t told her what he liked so, black coffee.

As Vanya waited for the coffees, she glanced back towards where Five was, last she knew, still grumbling to himself. But when she looked over, rather than still working through his equations like she’d been expecting, Vanaya found Five seeming to be watching her. A little weird, but, whatever.

In short time, the coffees were ready and Vanya collected them, carrying them back to their counter and dropping them by their stuff. Five muttered a quick “Thanks.” as he lifted the cup to his lips, eyes not leaving her’s as he sipped.

Five had a surprised look as he sipped, he gave Vanya a measuring look as he asked, “Why’d you get me black coffee?”

“Well,” Vanya said, finishing her sip of her own coffee, “you still haven’t told me what you actually like, and I wanted to repay you for the coffee earlier.” Five kept giving her his measuring look, prompting her to ask with a nervous laugh, “What?”

“Black coffee.” Five repeated, which did not help Vanya’s confusion.

Vanya, tactfully, asked him, “What the fuck does that mean?”

“My order.” Five said, Vanya now noticed all his stuff was packed away, Five himself was pushing off his stool, “Black coffee.”

As Five started to move toward the door, coffee in hand, his bag over his shoulder, Vanya called after him, “See you tomorrow?”

“I’ve got a meeting tomorrow.” Five said, “And the day after, but if you’ll be here then-”

“Which I will.” Vanya told him teasingly, having a fairly good feeling where this was going.

Five finished with a smirk, “Then I will see you in two days.” And with that, Five slipped out of the small shop, walking the opposite direction of the window Vanya was sat by.

True to his word, two days later, nearly a week after their first meeting, Five was back. And for once, Five was sitting at their counter, already working, coffees waiting on the countertop, when Vanya arrived to the shop.

“Hey,” Vanya said as she slid onto her stool, “you’re back.”

“As promised.” Five replied, a smirk Vanya was quickly becoming quite familiar with present on his face.

Vanya asked Five, “So how were you meetings Mr. Business Man?” as she took her laptop and took a sip of her coffee.

“It wasn’t a business meeting.” Five replied, rolling his eyes. Vanya gave him look and motioned for him to continue, which he did with an annoyed yet amused sigh, “It was for a grant, for my research.”

“Your time travel research?” Vanya asked, remembering the equations he’d been working on a few days ago. Five nodded, taking a sip of his own coffee, followed by Vanya asking him, “And, how’d it go?”

Five shrugged, trying to act nonchalant, but Vanya could tell he was proud of himself, “Pretty good. I’ve got another one next week. It’s between me and this other jackass, Henry Larkins or some shit.”

“Harold Jenkins?” Vanya asked, really hoping it wasn’t him.

But the surprised look Five gave her told her that it was in fact Harold Jenkins. “How’d you know that?” he asked her, teasing her again, “Have you been following me or something?”

“No, not at all.” Vanya said, “He’s my ex, real asshole. Kick his ass.”

Five smirked and told her, “No problem.”

The two barely got any work done all day, talking about anything that came to mind. When Vanya realized it was nearing 6, she told Five that she had to go, because if she canceled her dinner plans with Allison again, her best friend might not let her live another day. “You know,” Vanya said as she and Five cleaned up their spaces, “I could help you with your proposal. If you’re willing to accept any help.”

Rather than give her yet another measuring look at that like she’d expected from him, Five simply said, “Sure. Got anything tomorrow night?”

“Nope.” Vanya answered.

Five took a pen out of his bag and scribbled something quickly onto a napkin before handing it to her. “We’ll discuss this more later. See you tomorrow Vanya.”

“Bye Five.” Vanya said as she left, waving at Five through the window as she passed by. And he, begrudgingly, waved back.

As she walked back to her apartment, Vanya looked at the napkin Five had given her, finding ten numbers scribbled out. Five’s phone number. Interesting.

After Vanya returned to her apartment, between getting changed into something Allison would find acceptable and wouldn’t show her best friend that she hadn’t been sitting around all day and leaving to meet Allison, Vanya sent a text to Five, ‘Hey, it’s Vanya’

In a few seconds Five sent back, ‘Hey’ and another few seconds after that another text came through, ‘Do you want to work at my place tomorrow?’

‘On the proposal?’ Vanya sent back.

Vanya could practically feel the eye roll of Five’s attached to, ‘Yes’ then adding, ‘Let’s meet for coffee, like normal’ and ‘Then once you’re done with your work we can go back to my place’

‘Like a date?’ Vanya texted him, not quite sure what she was hoping his reply would be.

But was pleasantly surprised when he replied ‘Sure. If you want’

‘I’ve got to go, but looking forward to our date tomorrow’ Vanya texted back, adding a ‘😘’ for good measure.

And Vanya definitely laughed at Five’s reply, ‘Don’t make it weird’

She typed back ‘No promises’ before slipping her phone into purse and leaving to meet Allison, but all Vanya could think about was her ‘date’ with Five tomorrow. And wondering, why she was so excited about it? It’s just Five.

126 notes · View notes