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dr3amofagame · 3 years

Note

do you have any,,,post prison mute dream stuff??? or like, severely quiet, silent and obedient dream shtuff?? and the consequences thereof??? bc im reading your drabbles and i am in literal awe

aww, thank you so much !! yeah selectively mute dream post prison is absolutely a hc i love and write smtimes - it’s already been suggested in canon, and it’s super fun to play w/ in post-canon works. here’s some fluffy syndicate!dream bc gosh knows we need it after the angst that we’ve been getting

tw: implied torture, panic attacks, trauma - all v short mentions. this one’s definitely on the lighter side! :D

“I didn’t know you knew sign.”

Dream startles, arms flying to cover his face, and the crow he had been signing at squawks angrily when it turns towards Phil. He ignores its chatter, smoothing his own flinch behind a smile, lowering his wings, bringing his hands, palms up, in front of him at his waist - this song and dance has become all too familiar in the weeks that Dream’s resided with the Syndicate, and Phil is nothing if not patient.

Slowly, the boy uncurls from where he’d huddled into himself, arms clasped firmly around his ribs like someone will try and take them from him if he doesn’t hold on tight enough (and maybe, Phil thinks, imagining the messy lattice of scars underneath Dream’s loose-fitting hoodie that he has only seen a few times since they brought him over, someone has - but those are thoughts that are better left untouched for as long as he can manage it.) Dream’s eyes raise, flick over his face, his breathing quieting down from the discordant rattle it had been, and tentatively, ever slowly, he raises his good hand in a loose fist, letting it bob up and down. Yes.

Phil settles into the armchair across from him, raising his own hands. His fingers feel clumsy, but the memories come back with more ease than he would’ve expected - I know a little. Dream’s eyes don’t quite brighten, but his shoulders fall down from where they’d been hunched up to his ears, the hand he keeps tucked to his chest trembling slightly less, and it’s as much as a win as he’s ever going to get.

The silence stretches, familiar in its awkwardness, and Phil stifles a grimace as he forces long-forgotten memories to the surface. Dream’s hands, from what little he had seen from the doorway, had practically flown as he spoke to the crow still sitting by his right side - obviously practiced even with the still-healing injuries tracing over both arms. How did you learn?

We- He hesitates, left hand trembling violently, before pushing on, we all learned with- he signs a C, then lifts his hands to his head in a sign that Phil vaguely remembers as being the one for deer. Dream must see the questions written in his expression, because his cheeks flush as he backtracks. C-A-L-L-A-H-A-N, he finger spells, and Phil nods. That makes sense.

Some of the crows in the house must have noticed Phil’s arrival, because they storm into the room from the doorway, awkwardly hopping across the door with their wings waving by their sides as they eagerly voice their displeasure at the lack of attention. He’s not in the mood to pick out the words between their angry caws, so he simply watches as they scatter all over the room. Something almost like a smile tugs at Dream’s face as he watches them enter - the kid has grown inexplicably fond of both his flock and all of the assorted animals that Techno drags back into the house whenever he goes out, and Phil has long since resigned himself to being outnumbered one hundred to one by a literal army of mobs wherever he goes. Some of the crows had been pretty wary of Dream at the beginning, but after a few weeks more or less the entire flock has become viciously protective of the kid, sufficiently won over by gifts of head scratches and berries and various shiny things. Sure enough, the birds form a dark, squawking circle at Dream’s feet, a few flying up to tug impatiently at his clothes, and despite the (very obvious) favoritism, Phil smiles; the flock is good for Dream, as annoying as they can be.

DADZA, one calls, its lone cry soon echoed by the entire group of fluttering feathers gathered on the floor, DADZA AND DREAM DADZA DADZA. Phil laughs, a familiar warmth and exasperation filling his lungs, and he turns his attention back to Dream.

You up to some more? He tries; it’s a chance, for sure, and he brushes away the creeping anxiety crawling up his neck; he doesn’t want to make Dream panic, hopes that he’s doing the right thing. I could always use the practice.

Quiet, once again, only broken by the murmurs of his birds eagerly awaiting Dream’s answer as the boy rocks side to side in deliberation, and Phil is halfway through working out a frantic you don’t have to if you don’t want to when Dream raises his own hands.

Sure, he signs, a forced smile on his face but eyes still clear and bright, why not?

Somehow, they end up in a bastardized version of twenty questions, surrounded by birds that do not hesitate at any chance to voice their own opinions. They work through favorite colors (green), favorite flowers (roses for Dream, peonies for Phil), favorite mob (Phil answers this with a pointed definitely-not-crows, staring at the flock who have been shouting over themselves naming different colors for about five minutes, which immediately makes them devolve into screaming caws and divebombs at the edges of Phil’s cape that leave him thoroughly occupied for the next ten minutes), and at some point Phil falls further into the cushions of his chair and Dream’s legs lay against the sofa instead of being drawn up to his chest and it’s almost normal.

By the time Techno finds them, they’ve forgone structure all together, Dream watching intently as Phil signs out an embellished tale of one of the Antarctic Empire’s exploits with a crow held gently in his hands. Techno’s voice behind him startles him bad enough to send his wings snapping outwards, feathers standing on end, but Dream doesn’t react much beyond a twitch of his lips - he must’ve seen the piglin hybrid and tag-teamed to prank him, Phil realizes with a half-hearted grumble. Techno’s eyes sparkle mischievously, definitely planned, then.

“Hi Phil, Dream,” Techno shrugs off his cloak and drapes it over the back of Phil’s chair, “Looks like you’ve been busy. Can’t say I’m not feelin’ a bit left out, though; Phil, you never told me you knew sign language.”

“You never asked, mate,” he quips, even as Dream signs animatedly from the corner of his eye. T-E-C-H-N-O-L-O-S-T.

Techno narrows his eyes. “I get the feelin’ that you’re messin’ with me, nerd.” Dream blinks faux innocently, smiling wider, and Phil picks up on the bit. Oh, this is fun.

He can’t understand us, he assures Dream, feeling a wicked smirk of his own growing on his face. So what do you think for dinner?

“Phil- the betrayal!” Techno splutters, voice going high and pitchy, and that reaction alone would’ve made the prank more than worth it - but Dream’s shoulders shake, eyes glittering as his fingers fly almost too fast for Phil to catch, and oh, that’s laughter, tiny, breathless giggles falling from his lips, and Techno must catch it even as he begins to berate the voices in his head, “This is not a bruh moment, Chat, don’t you start-”

Stew? Dream signs, still snickering, and he looks happy, more than Phil has ever seen him, the sight of him smiling and bright-eyed with amusement almost enough to cover for the gaunt quality of his face, the pale scars left all over his skin.

Of course, mate, Phil signs back, throwing in a do you think T-E-C-H-N-O ended up lost in those same woods again for good measure, rewarded when it sends Dream into another round of giggles. Techno grumbles without any real heat behind it, plopping himself down in the remaining chair.

“Ok, nah, no more of this exclusive club; you guys are teachin’ me this tonight before Chat loses it - yes that was an insult, don’t you start it with the E’s,” and Phil laughs, hard, the flock cawing and beginning to spam E on their own, for some reason, and Dream signing through the alphabet with the biggest grin on his face, and-

“Oh, Prime, this is going to so scuffed,” Phil says, breathless, his warning unheeded as Techno finishes his rant at Chat to focus on Dream.

And it is scuffed - it is so fucking scuffed, between Phil’s lackluster memory and Techno’s frequent interrupting to quiet down an extremely rowdy Chat and the incessant calls of the flock further egging them on, but it’s warm and Dream doesn’t stop smiling and Techno looks more relaxed than he has in weeks and the helpless, singing urge of protect protect protect that has lived in Phil’s head ever since Techno had carried Dream, beaten and bloodied and broken, through their front door finally, finally, begins to quiet down.

He tunes back into the impromptu lesson - they’ve finished the alphabet, seemingly having moved onto common words and objects, and Dream- hesitates, raises his hand, all five fingers drawn together, to the corner of his mouth and then pulls it back. Home, he signs, moving to fingerspelling, H-O-M-E. Home.

For a moment, they’re all quiet, Dream’s hand still raised by his face, even the crows falling silent as they all stare at each other. Phil watches, breath caught in his throat, as the planes of Techno’s face soften, the teasing edge of his voice, for once, leaving. “Yeah, nerd. You’re home.”

Home, Dream signs again, then again, looking up, eyes bright, hopeful. Phil thinks, proudly, that it looks like a new beginning. I’m home.

#tw torture #tw trauma #tw panic attack #syndicate!dream #my beloved #queue <3 #q stream aftermath #long post #my writing :D #my asks !!

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whoacanada · 3 years

Text

Zimmerbro AU

Summary: Andrew Phillip Rowe could skate before he could walk, and it wasn’t until he was almost twenty and well on his way to becoming a Las Vegas Ace before he knew why.

a/n: that’s right we’ve got a secret zimmermann brother au based on the fact that Bob was an active pro athlete for almost 15 years before Jack was born and almost definitely had relationships before Alicia. This particular one resulted in a secret love child.

When the call finally went out that year — a request for players willing to billet the incoming draftees — Andrew had been the first in line.

His already sparsely decorated guest room had been primed for a new tenant since he’d learned Las Vegas’ abysmal season had earned them the first pick of the 2009 draft. In his mind, Andrew had envisioned a tearful confession. A family reunion nineteen years in the making where he’d finally get a chance to connect with a half-brother he’d grown up learning about through news articles and stats pages.

He wasn’t ready for Jack to pull out of the draft days before the ceremony; wasn’t ready for the claims of an overdose or speculation about suicide attempts. He certainly wasn’t expecting to have to open his home to a young man with limp blonde hair and deep circles under his eyes with the same enthusiasm he’d promised he’d offer to a son of Bob Zimmermann.

Andrew was hoping for a little brother.

He got Kent Parson instead.

______

“You remind me of my boyfriend.” Kent slurs one night, completely gone on Johnny Walker Blue borrowed from Andrew’s wet bar. “It’s your . . . face.”

“Shouldn’t talk about things like that,” Andrew cautions gently, covering his own surprise. “Never know who might be listening.”

“Who fucking cares? He won’t talk to me,” Kent continues, ignoring him and sniffing like he’s on the verge of sobbing or puking, both options equally unwanted. “They wouldn’t tell me if he was even alive.”

Another unwanted puzzle piece locks into place.

“Jack?” Andrew suggests softly, and Kent begins to cry.

“You won’t tell right?”

Andrew shakes his head no, long enough for Kent’s bleary eyes to focus on the gesture and take it seriously.

Things are different, after that conversation. Not worse, or better, just different.

________

“He’s my brother.”

Andrew admits this one night, for no reason other than that he can.

Kent is across the room, backlit by lights from the Strip, his legs dangling off the arm of his favorite couch as he scrolls through his phone looking for distractions. Parse hasn’t lived with Andrew for almost two seasons, but he still turns up like a bad penny whenever he needs to commiserate with someone who knows his more lascivious secrets. Truthfully, Andrew’s grateful for the company. He’s a pretty genial guy, but he’s always kept his distance, a personality trait he likes to think he shares with an unassuming sibling, but there’s no way to know for sure. The farther Andrew gets from the 2009 Draft, the less faith he has in a reunion that won’t just bring crippling sorrow to everyone involved.

A secret Zimmermann son who actually made it in the NHL. Who has his name on the Stanley Cup, not once, but twice, largely thanks to the spitfire forward lounging in Andrew’s living room.

“Who’s your brother?” Kent asks, not looking up from his phone.

“Jack Zimmermann.”

Kent barks a laugh and rolls his head lazily to smirk at Andrew.

“That’s funny. I guess you kinda have the same chin. Was Marky digging for chirps?”

Andrew has no idea what that means, but he sets down his tablet and says, “No, he’s actually my half-brother. My mom dated Bad Bob in ’84 and got pregnant.”

The lackadaisical smile on Kent’s face falters as his gaze sharpens, like he’s actually looking at Andrew for the first time. Andrew responds by gesturing at himself lamely.

“That’s not funny.”

“No.” Andrew agrees. “It isn’t.”

Kent swings his feet down off the couch and braces himself against the overstuffed leather. He doesn’t look mad, but there’s something too close to disbelief for Andrew to convince himself everything’s okay. It takes a moment, but Kent must find what he’s looking for on Andrew’s face.

“Does Bob know?” Kent asks with that familiar overfamiliarity, as if they both still have some personal relationship with the living legend.

“Yeah. When Mom got pregnant she told him she didn’t want the attention since it was only a fling — ”

“Who the fuck doesn’t lock down Bob Zimmermann?” Kent breathes. “Also, why the fuck did she tell you that?”

“No shit, right? She got him to sign away parental rights, set up a trust, never spoke to him again as far as I know. I didn’t find out until after I signed with the Aces. She didn’t want me to get blindsided if it all came out, but the story never broke.”

“I mean, does Bob know who you are?” Kent questions. “Does Jack?”

Andrew shakes his head no, because he doesn’t think so, and Kent flops back against the cushions, face slack with disbelief; it doesn’t take long for his features to shift to anger.

“You knew this whole time and you didn’t tell me? Even after I told you —“

“Okay, there’s a whole-ass difference between you fucking dudes and and me being ‘Bad Bob’s bastard’,” Andrew bites, curtailing Kent’s imminent hissy fit. Appropriately, Kent closes his mouth, almost pouting.

“Fine. But that’s fucked.” Kent says after a loaded moment of silence. “I’m sorry you’re . . . you.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry you’re you, too.”

“You know Jack’s signing with the Falconers, right?” Kent offers like the worst kind of olive branch, unintentionally telling Andrew exactly what he was up to during that stretch of time between New England games a few months prior. “It’s not public but it’s happening. Ink’s dry.”

“I know. That’s why I told you. It’s gonna be weird,” Andrew swallows, thinking about playing Providence in the coming months.

“Fucking right it’s weird.”

_________

For the most part, the Las Vegas Aces are decent, stand up guys. Even with the accusations of gambling debts and mob connections with the ownership group, Andrew’s never been asked to hit a certain player a little too hard, or to take a dive so the other team gets a shot at a power play. A lot of talk, a lot of conspiracies, ‘Typical Aces hockey’, but there’s no malice. Not really.

Andrew thinks it’s hilarious he plays the game a lot like his estranged father, but he’s not a legend in the making, hell, at this point he’s barely regarded as more than a mid-level, reliable center that can bring home 40 points a season.

Carly whips behind Zimmermann’s back to clip his skate with a stick, dropping a ill advised chirp that sets every player in earshot on edge. Parse is close enough to catch the quiet slur, stiffening like he’s been hit, and Andrew watches Zimmermann recover quickly, steely and resolute.

Jack has his mother’s eyes — not the warm brown Andrew catches every time he looks in the mirror.

“He’s a fucking goon,” Andrew breathes, gliding up to Jack’s shoulder in lieu of an apology. Zimmermann doesn’t miss a beat, his gaze flicking to Andrew with the quiet rage of ‘who gives a fuck’. Andrew admires his commitment to the game. Coming back after so much, after so long, to willingly subject himself to the same kind of treatment that Andrew knows likely led to his original fall from grace.

“Hey,” Kent ducks his head as he slides up a little while later, mouthguard clenched between his teeth, and asks, “You see his twink?”

At Andrew’s obvious confusion, Kent jerks his head toward the glass behind the Falconers’ bench, to a raucous group of fans all sporting fresh Zimmermann jerseys. Andrew’s gaze drifts along the row of faces, lingering longer on the familiar, handsome couple beside the blonde young man. He may be imagining things — the stadium lights catching a bad angle — but for the briefest moment, Andrew holds eye contact with his father.

“He’s cute, right?” Kent says bitterly, like he doesn’t have a partner of his own back home.

“Yeah, he is. You gonna do anything about the slurs, Captain?” Andrew counters, earning a stern look from Parson.

“I’ll deal with Carly.”

“Oh, you will? Because I’ve never seen you shut him down before.”

“I’ll handle it.”

Kent’s expression goes stormy, and he gives Andrew a hard shove before skating off to set up for the next shift. To his credit, he does grab Carly by the arm and tell him something that earns a look of displeasure from the larger man, but Andrew knows a verbal warning won’t curtail someone as dead-set in his conservatism as Carly.

The next play, Carly flashes Andrew a toothy smile over the lineman’s shoulder, as if they’re in on the same joke, and his vision goes red.

__________

“Bad Bob’s outside,” Scraps rasps, like whatever brief interaction he’s just had has physically winded him. “He wants to talk to Flip.”

Andrew blinks up from the water bottle in his hands, previously concerned with the pink-stained gauze wrapped around his knuckles. A few of the guys start chirping, but most of them remain silent, still processing the fact that Andrew assaulted one of their own without clear motivation, in defense of an opponent.

“That’s what this was all about? You gunning for a trade?” Sorenson spits from his stall. “Needed to impress Bad Bob by beating the snot out of Carly?”

“Maybe I am,” Andrew sighs, pushing himself to his feet, wincing at the way his jaw aches from the few good hits Carly had managed to squeeze in before he went down. “What the fuck are you gonna do about it.”

_______

Andrew’s grateful he kept his skates on. He needs the boost of confidence that comes with the added height, especially when he finds Bob Zimmermann waiting patiently in the corridor like he’s just another staff member and not the second most recognizable figure in modern hockey.

“Hey kid,” Bob greets, casting an approving, overly-familiar eye over Andrew’s padded bulk and sweat-slick hair. “You can throw a hell of a punch. Don’t think I’ve ever seen a guy beat the piss out of a teammate before. Off ice, sure, but never during a game.”

His accent is just as thick in private as every interview Andrew’s ever caught live — but his tone is unexpectedly warm, even grateful — when Bob laughs at his own recounting of Andrew’s assault attempt, the sound is light and joyous like nothing in the world comes easier to this titan of a man.

Andrew wonders if Bob can recognize the chin they share beneath a his playoff beard; if there’s any resemblance left in a nose that’s been reset a half-dozen times.

Andrew grew up loved and never wanted for anything. His step-fathers, both of them, had been good men who never left him looking for a father figure. It wasn’t until his twenties that Andrew even realized there was hole where his bio-dad should have been, and not just a regular hole, a yawning sinkhole threatening to devour his entire sense of self, because his biological father turned out to be a man he grew up idolizing as a personal hero.

He’s not mad at his mother, but when Andrew struggles to find his voice — which is bullshit seeing as he’s almost thirty-five and a god-damned professional athlete — he can’t stop himself from feeling like a misplaced child.

“Do you,” Andrew swallows, looking over Bob’s shoulder to see if anyone’s watching them. Finding they’re alone, he rallies quietly, “Do you know who I am?”

Bob’s jovial expression softens into something remorseful, but unfathomably kind. “I do, buddy,” he acknowledges, somehow squeezing three decades of affection into one term of endearment. “I’ve known for some time, now. The whole time, actually.”

That hurts more than expected.

“Does your wife? Does Jack?”

Bob shakes his head, but it isn’t a hard no.

“Alicia knows, and Jack has some idea he’s got a half-brother, but it’s all in the abstract. No specifics. Definitely doesn’t know you play. I wanted to respect your privacy and your mother’s wishes. She let me know she’d told you the truth a few years back and I wanted to give you the space you needed if you decided to reach out. When you didn’t, well, a man makes assumptions.”

Andrew looks down at the concrete beneath his skates and sniffs hard, fighting nasal drip from the smelling salts he’d needed in the third period; or, at least, that’s what he tells himself. “I had a plan, back when — ” he stops himself, looking down at his skates. Bob’s eyebrows lift in curiosity, leaving room for Andrew to gather his thoughts, but he doesn’t take the bait, unable to bring up what could have been just yet. Bob seems to grasp the context after the moment.

“2009,” he acknowledges softly. “Hell of a year.”

“Yeah. It was. Is he okay?”

“What, Jack? He’s leagues ahead of where he was then —”

“No, I mean, tonight. Carly clipped him pretty hard before I got in there.”

“Oh, a little bruised up, but he’ll live. Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Okay.”

Andrew looks down at his bandaged fist and realizes he’s completely forgotten how gnarly his face must look.

“Trainer says I’m alright, but I’m gonna get leveled with a wicked fine, I know it.”

“Was it worth it?” There’s a look of guilty pride on Bob’s face, like the man’s enjoying himself a little too much when he leans in and whispers, “You just did something I’ve wanted to do since Jack was in mites. Fucking lay out one of those fuckers that’s got nothing better to do than bitch because they can’t play,” there’s a moment of hesitation, as if he’s worried about pushing a boundary, before he adds, “How’d it feel to look out for your little brother?”

Pride, it turns out, in contagious, and Andrew feels like he could go back on the ice and do it all over again. “Pretty fucking great,” Andrew can’t help a smile, wincing when the gesture pulls at his split lip.

Bob slaps a hand on Andrew’s shoulder pads, then gets a grip on the back of his head, heedless of his sweaty hair.

“Crisse, you’re a fuckin’ beaut, kid. I’ve wanted to tell you that for years.”

Andrew can’t blame the smelling salts anymore.

__________

Jack clearly doesn’t see his father standing there with red-rimmed eyes, or Andrew in an equally unkempt state, and has no reason to think anything untoward has happened when he offers a handshake and pulls Andrew into a hug, bouncing his free fist off the back of Andrew’s pads. “I owe you a drink,” Jack says decisively when he pulls back, shooting a grin between his father and Andrew. “Can’t believe you did that.”

“More than a drink, I think,” the blonde guy Andrew saw behind the bench pipes up. Jack’s ‘twink’. Boyfriend. Whatever. “Dinner at least.”

“A pie,” Bob suggests tightly, keeping his voice even as he turns to quickly scrub his fist over his eyes. Andrew recognizes the statuesque woman who strides up beside Bob, and one quick look tells him she definitely knows who he is.

“Hello, Andrew,” Alicia greets softly, genuinely. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“You, too.” he says, the tightness in his throat coming out as gruffness rather than emotion. “This is great, but I should go shower and, uh, it was nice meeting you all.”

Bob’s hand whips out and fists the sleeve of Andrew’s sweater, keeping him in place.

“You have plans tonight?”

Andrew debates lying, because he doesn’t know how to move forward from this point, but they’re all looking at him. Waiting. Expectant. There’s too much at stake, and yet somehow — A sharp whistle drags Andrew’s attention back to the locker room. Kent is peeking his head out, and god knows how long he’s been eavesdropping.

“Yo, Zimmermanns. Bittle.”

“Parson.” The blonde says curtly, earning a wry smirk from Kent.

“Flip, we got a presser if you feel like putting a bow on the evening,” Kent’s gaze drifts to Bob’s flushed face, and he adds, “Or, you can shower and slip out the loading bay while I cover for your aggro ass because this is not going to be fun. Your call.”

Andrew looks at the small family surrounding him, his family, and says, “I don’t want to explain.” Kent shrugs and ducks back inside while Bob’s brow furrows in confusion. “I can do dinner, but I don’t want to,” Andrew holds his hands out in front of him, trying to gesture what he means, and Bob snaps his fingers in understanding.

“Ah, ha, I got you, kid.”

“Neat. I’m gonna go shower.”

“We will be here when you’re ready,” Alicia offers. “Take your time.”

“Oh, I will,” Andrew replies before he can stop himself, cringing the second his back is turned because what the fuck could he be any more awkward?

Time will tell.

_____________

#zimbits #jack / bitty #omgcp #check please #my fic #my stuff #lost zimmermann brother au #bob's got another kid and I named him andrew again!#kent is not a bad guy #only carly is a bad guy and we hate him #long post #because it's a mini fic!

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

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will you do an oompaville x reader.? like maybe one where you’re at a wedding with him and he asks you to dance.?

Omg an oompaville request!!! I'm so grateful dear! Thank you so much for your lovely request, please enjoy the one-shot 🥰

Perfect Sync

Pairing: Oompaville (Caleb) x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: None

Genre: FLUFF, RPF (Real Person Fic)

There are certain pros and cons to being so distanced from your extended family. And I mean DISTANCED, in all capitals. I actually live in a completely different state on the completely opposite side of the US and yet I still somehow got an invitation to my cousin's wedding. To be fair, it's not that surprising, seeing as how she's the only cousin I have comprehendible memories with from my childhood. She's a really sweet girl - no, woman - and it kinda sucks that we haven't had the chance to catch up in so long.

Among the many other cons is the fact that I don't know a single person at this wedding. Not. A. Single. Person. Sure, there have been several elderly and middle aged couples who've approached me, claiming they know me and given me a huge hug, asking me how my parents were doing. Speaking of my parents, they are a pair of sneaks who avoided coming to the wedding themselves saying they were stuck with a stomach virus while they're actually vacationing in Canada. How wonderful of them, don't you think?

They are chilling in Canada and I'm over here boiling and sweating over my third, possibly forth glass of champagne of the evening, not to mention the wedding hasn't even properly started yet. Count on me switching to whiskey when it does.

Sitting at the table I was pointed to upon arrival, I let my gaze skim over the immense garden decorated with beautiful flowers, fairy lights and handmade décor pieces. Each table and bar is under a white tent, just like the one I’m currently sitting under. It’s a beautiful sight and I can only imagine it’s only gonna get even prettier when the sun finally sets completely and all these fairy lights come on. That’s one of the few good things about my attendance at this event today. The ‘good’ things have been so little in number I can probably count them on the fingers of one hand: 1.I briefly saw and chatted with my cousin who was practically trembling out of excitement, anxiety and happiness. Good for her; 2. I’ve downed so many drinks that would probably cost me a fortune at a club or bar and I’m decently buzzed. Very cool; 3. I made friends with one of the bridesmaids because I had time to kill - turns out she wanted to be at this wedding as much as me: not at all; 4. I caught a whiff of the dinner which was still being cooked and damn am I excited about it; 5. The garden is absolutely breathtaking and it’s a sight worth sticking around for. See, as I said, few enough good things to be able to count them on the fingers of one hand.

And what about that cute guy from earlier?, my subconsciousness nudges me teasingly, causing me to almost evidently roll my eyes.

The hot guy being referred to right now is the one I damn near ran over when I was pulling up to this fancy estate. In my defense, I’m still getting used to the rental car I got when I landed in Texas two days ago, and plus he came out of literally nowhere. Luckily, he wasn’t mean or upset about it, took it quite lightly which was relieving and surprising.

Not gonna lie though, he was really cute.

I see the people all over the garden hurriedly take a seat when it gets announced that the newly weds are about to have their first dance. I cross my legs, finishing the champagne in one go before I can focus my attention on the lovely couple that’s just stepped out of the mansion-like house and onto the soft grass of the lawn, slowly making their way towards the center where they’re supposed to have the dance - aka where everyone will be dancing afterwards too.

Everyone but me, I’ll be busy chilling by the bar, hopefully in the company of that bridesmaid who I can crack jokes with without feeling guilty.

The two dance in perfect sync, their movements almost mesmerizing to the human eye. I’m no professional dancer but I don’t have two left feet either, yet I’m still amazed by this perfection before me. I bet all the cash I took with me from New York - which is a lot, I expected to spend a lot - that they’ve practiced this more than once. Or at least I hope they have as to make me feel better about my own skills - or the lack thereof.

“I take it you’re a lot less dangerous when you’re not behind the wheel.“ A quiet comment emerges next to my ear, loud enough for me to hear but hushed as to not disturb the couple nor the mob of people watching them in awe.

My eyebrows shoot up. I’ve maybe heard that voice only once before but that teasing tone made me blush like mad earlier and that’s hard to forget. I have a hard time forgetting embarrassment.

Biting my lip, I slowly turn to face him, “I can’t guarantee, there are plenty of sharp objects around after all.“

There’s that same wide smile I saw earlier when my entire life flashed before my eyes. His probably did too but unlike me, he didn’t show it. “Some luck I have sitting next to you then.“ He chuckles, handing me a glass of whiskey. I take it hesitantly, giving him a suspiciously raised eyebrow. “You look like you could use one.“ He shrugs, taking a sip of his own. When my expression doesn’t change and I don’t make a move to ingest the beverage, he rolls his eyes, “Yeah I’m someone you’re seeing for the second time in your life, and yeah you might think I could want revenge for my nearly damaged health, but I don’t. And if you don’t want the whiskey...” he reaches to take it back but I quickly put it up to my lips and take a long sip, causing him to smile. “There you go!”

Oh boy does the taste of whiskey hit different after sipping on champagne for hours. I nod to him in gratitude. “Thanks, I strongly appreciate this.”

He nods back, his smile now a smaller one but still preserving the same amount of joy as when it was a full-blown grin, “I’m Caleb, by the way.”

“Y/N, nice to meet you.“ I reply, feeling the tension in my shoulders easing and the embarrassed blush fading. This guy just has such a chill aura, it’s nice being in his company. Hell, I’ll even go as far as to say if I simply had to almost hit someone with my car today, I’m glad it was him.

As more and more people emerge from their seats, heading hand in hand to the dancefloor to join the newlyweds, I finish my whiskey and am contemplating on going to get myself another but before I can decide, Caleb arises from his seat as well. He takes a stand in front of me, offering me his hand, “Well, there’s very little damage you can do you me out on the dancefloor, right?” He chuckles when he sees he’s made me blush again - third time today, damn it - but then he assumes a more serious facial expression, his smile never faltering though, “Care to accompany me for a dance, Y/N?”

I pretend to think the offer over, weighing my options and its pros and cons when in reality I dam near accepted the same second he asked. “Hmm, ok...“ I say finally, resting my hand in his, “That is, if you promise not to step on my feet. These are some expensive shoes I’m wearing.“

He lets out a genuine laugh as he leads us to the dancefloor, one that I’ll admit is hella contagious, “Says the person who almost ran my ass over earlier. Am I not expensive, huh?”

I give him a confused look, hiding fits of laughter, “I don’t know, Caleb. Are you?”

He shakes his head, “Nah, best offer you’d get for me on Craigslist is like, a dollar? Two if you’re lucky.”

And that’s all it takes to break the dam holding back my laughter, sending me in fits of giggles as we start dancing. My laughter ends just as quickly as it starts though when I realize how in-sync our dancing is. Perfectly synchronized.

Huh, wonder why, that annoying voice pokes at my peace again. But I don’t let it get to me. Not now at least. I’m just gonna enjoy this moment, dancing with a practical stranger, gazing into his warm and welcoming eyes.

Suddenly I need another hand to count the good things about this wedding since I have to add three new points: 6. Almost hitting Caleb with my car; 7. Officially meeting Caleb; 8. Dancing with him.

Dancing with him in perfect sync

Oh, shut it, I don’t wanna start blushing again.

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asweetprologue · 3 years

Note

i’m such a sucker for 1 it’s just such a good trope

a CLASSIC i’m also a huge fan of this one, thank you for the prompt! I tried to keep it rated T, since I don’t know if you’re looking for anything more than that, so I hope you enjoy it! <3

1. There’s people chasing us and I pulled you into the alley with me and wow you’re close

Jaskier is always a little glad when the people in the town they’re staying in are after him and not Geralt.

It usually ends up with them in the same basic place - out in the cold, possibly sans some belongings, breathless from running - but there’s something relieving about being kicked out because Jaskier has a reputation rather than because people think Geralt is a monster. It’s more of a kick to his pride, of course, but he’d take that over the hurt look that steals into Geralt’s eyes when people hiss mutant any day.

This time it’s a little more serious than normal, though still better than the grab-your-torch-and-pitchfork treatment that they sometimes receive. Jaskier walks into the tavern, takes one look around, and immediately meets the eyes of a man he recognizes from several Redenian intelligence dossiers. Sharp chin, dark eyes, slicked back hair, distinct scar across the bridge of his nose. A Nilfgaardian spy by the name of Vulmed Dorn. It takes less than half a second to note that the man has also recognized him, and for Jaskier to decide that maybe this town isn’t, actually, going to be the most friendly to them. By the way Dorn immediately rises to his feet and shouts out something about Jaskier being a sorcerer - really, it’s much too easy to get these people riled up - it’s clear that he’s been here long enough for the townsfolk to trust him. At least well enough to want to turn on Jaskier.

He turns on his heel in the doorway, grabbing Geralt’s wrist, and starts running.

They’d stabled Roach, and he curses their foresight as he rushes through the streets. They can’t leave until they get her, and they’re laden down with their bags and supplies they’d wanted to carry up to their room. Jaskier laments the lost night spent in a real bed as he turns down the main street, heading in the direction of the stables.

Geralt is jogging smoothly alongside him, looking exasperated. “Jaskier, tell me you didn’t sleep with someone’s wife in a town we haven’t even been to,” he sighs, not even winded from the brisk pace. “They’re following us.”

Jaskier huffs, picking up speed. “This isn’t some cuckolded husband,” he snaps. He can’t see Geralt’s face, too preoccupied by watching his footing in the dim evening light, but he can hear the barely suppressed not this time in Geralt’s snort. “He’s Nilfgaardian intelligence.”

Whatever Geralt had been expecting, that’s clearly not it. “He didn’t even see me,” he says, sounding confused. Jaskier can hear the sound of their pursuers now, coming from the direction of the inn. The mob will turn onto the same street they’re running down any second now. They need to get off of the main road.

“No, but he saw me,” Jaskier pants. He grabs Geralt by the wrist again, knowing that the witcher allowed himself to be moved. He hurries them down a side street, just as the torchlight pours onto the road they’d just been following. The street they’re on is too exposed still, and Jaskier turns down another, and then another again, this one barely a sliver of space between two houses. It’s steeped in shadow, the walls of the buildings blocking the last bits of daylight that slip over the horizon in the west. He shoves Geralt in first and squeezes in after him, tucking them both into the darkest area.

Geralt grunts as Jaskier trips into the alley, warm hands coming up to steady him as they both pause, listening. The sounds of the search party in the main street are barely legible to Jaskier, but Geralt could probably hear them crystal clear. “How would he know you?” Geralt asks, voice dipped low. Jaskier blinks at him, and then raises a hand between them - a feat in the narrow space - to point to his own chest.

“I’m Redanian intelligence,” he says.

“Oh,” Geralt replies, his head tilting slightly to the side. Jaskier can hardly make out any of his features in the dark, just the glint of his golden eyes and the line of his nose where a swatch of moonlight falls into their hiding place. “I didn’t know that.”

“Well,” Jaskier stifles a laugh, “I’m retired.”

Geralt has no response to that, just shaking his head on an amused exhale. They stand in silence for a few long moments, Geralt listening to whatever commotion is going on in the main square. It’s quiet around them, the air warm and thick with lingering summer heat, and Jaskier realizes abruptly that they’re standing awfully close. The alleyway truly is cramped, and Geralt is standing with both shoulders pressed up against the wall, Jaskier slotted at his side. Their shoulders brush on every inhale, left to left. Jaskier can feel his heart thundering in his chest, and he hopes that Geralt will write it off as adrenalin.

He wants to put some distance between them, to prevent the feeling that’s rising in him from bubbling to the surface, but he can’t. To either side of them the shadows fade into crisp moonlight; if he steps away he’ll be significantly more exposed. He doesn’t know what the crowd will do if they get their hands on him, but he guesses it will involve some kind of deal with Nilfgaard. Not something he’s interested in. So he swallows around the knot of anxiety rising in his throat, and forces himself to press his hands back against the cool brick wall behind him. He watches the end of the alleyway, trying to focus on the task at hand.

“I think they’re heading back to the inn,” Geralt rumbles. “We can--”

Jaskier turns back to look at him at the same moment that Geralt lowers his gaze, and their eyes catch. They’re so close, too close, noses nearly brushing, and Jaskier’s breath hitches in his throat. Whatever Geralt had been about to say dies. They’re so close together, and Jaskier feels like he’s going to burn up with it.

They stand frozen like that for what feels like hours, mob forgotten, Jaskier digging his fingers into the brickwork to keep himself from reaching out. Geralt’s right hand comes up towards his waist, but doesn’t make contact. It feels like the air between them is suddenly humming with tension, adrenalin bleeding into something else entirely. Jaskier’s never felt like the thing between them was so close to breaking.

When Geralt speaks, his breath ghosts against Jaskier’s lips, and he can’t help the full body shudder that wracks through him. “We should probably go get Roach,” Geralt says softly.

Jaskier nods, swallowing heavily, and forces himself not to look for Geralt’s lips in the darkness. “Sorry I didn’t tell you I was a spy,” he breathes, an apology for the entire situation.

“That’s okay,” Geralt replies easily, and Jaskier doesn’t know which of them moves but suddenly lips are on his and they’re kissing. Geralt pushes him back against the wall and Jaskier’s hands fly up to clutch at the straps of his armor, and he gasps when Geralt’s tongue sweeps along his lip. It’s instantly filthy, and it’s delicious. Jaskier raises one hand to fist in Geralt’s hair, and the groan he gets in answer, pressed directly into his mouth, is enough to make him weak at the knees. He never wants to stop, want to let Geralt keep kissing him forever, if only--

Geralt breaks the kiss, pressing their foreheads together. He does sound out of breath now, panting against Jaskier’s face, and he feels unreasonably proud of that. “They’re going to come back around,” Geralt says, and Jaskier knows he’s right. They have a narrow window. He curses every god he can remember the name of.

“Alright,” he sighs, pulling away with more reluctance that he would have thought himself capable of overcoming. He feels suddenly nervous, even with his lips still tingling from where Geralt had bitten him lightly. Maybe this was just a one time thing, and when they get out of here Geralt won’t want to push it any further. A tense situation and close quarters could rile anyone up. Resigned, he turns towards the mouth of the alley. “Let’s go then.”

A hand on his wrist stops him, and he looks back towards Geralt only to be greeted by a brief, chaste press of lips to his own. Geralt’s bright eyes are intense as he holds Jaskier in place, imploring. “Later,” is all he says, and Jaskier feels hope swell in his chest, all consuming.

“Later,” he agrees, feeling a grin stretching his cheeks even as he steps back out of the alley and into danger once again. “I’ll hold you to that, witcher.”

#ask #bookstorebunny #geraskier #geralt of rivia #geralt #jaskier #witcher #my work #fics

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synoxshots · 3 years

Text

The Master KOTFE Adventure

My latest project has been playing through KotFE on master mode.

Why ever would you want to do that? you may ask, and I have asked myself the same thing. In short, it was a mix of having a light sided empire toon that I didn't want the autocompletes on, and the fact that he is also the best geared character I've ever had and the discipline I've had most experience playing. And I've run through KotFE quite a few times so, freshening it up I guess?

So this is how it went. This isn't a guide - more, a record of my experiences as I went through. As ever, some things I found easy others might find hard, and (more likely, lbr) vice versa.

The gamer:

I play a Rage Jugg, wear Descent of the Fearless set, gear level 306 with a full set of 286 augments. So - very well geared, but not fully optimised stats wise. Experience wise for this - I'd done a few chapters on vet mode before with a Guardian (Focus) and Powertech (Pyrotech) though not always at max gear (probably in the 290s when I first gave it a go), and I like trying to solo group content like vet fps (master for Red Reaper only) because I don't love myself, I guess. A smidge of ops experience. I'm reasonably competent as a player but also prone to stupid, I don't claim to be great by any means.

Chapter I

All went smoothly, died on the last fight against the BD-148 elite skytrooper - but that was just because I forgot about heroic moments existing, given that half the chapter is spent without a companion. Used my enraged defence a few times but never really felt at risk of dying. Apart from the one time when I did, obviously. Marr goes up to 28 influence automatically. Lots of mobs can be skipped as they're already engaged in fights.

Chapter II

Quite a few mobs you can skip around. Valkorion heals you though he's not a companion so no heroic moment. Last monolith did get me close to death sometimes, so there was a bit of running away so I could heal up a bit more, and making good use of defensive abilities. But no deaths on this one!

Chapter III

I died twice on this one, both were easily preventable. The first was against the Ground Assault Walker (massive droid before the bridge) and pretty much because I hadn't raised Lana's influence yet, so I upped it to 20 before starting the fight again and cleared it very quickly. Sidenote: a while back I bought a bunch of Spiced Aric Tongue from the Jawa scrap peddlers as I didn't know what else to do with all that, Lana accepts it so it's a nice quick way to up her level (Koth likes it too, a lot, which is handy). Second death was against like, a handful of skytroopers when I was shutting down the reactor and really it was mostly because I wasn't paying attention properly, though Lana died both times at this point. There's another fight where these prototype skytroopers keep swarming and I was a bit nervous because there were kolto stations there and I couldn't entirely remember how intense it got. The answer was...not intense at all and I definitely didn't need them. The final fight on this one is the two Zakuul knights but they didn't cause me any problems. All in all I'd say the deaths I've had so far have all been my own fault.

Chapter IV

This...did not go as well. And I'm not entirely sure why, just bad play on my part I think mostly, sometimes there are days when I just play like trash *shrug*. Not timing things like enraged defence, heroic moments and so on very well which meant I died a few times to wildlife - twice the larger bosses, twice mobs of normal/strong ones. Yeah... Kept upping my companion influence so all three (Lana, Koth and HK by this point) got up to 27 but I think even higher than that may be needed as they just didn't seem to be healing well.

Chap V

I was a bit wary heading into this one, as it was one I'd run before on vet mode and remembered having trouble with the skytrooper waves. I was less geared then though, and had less companion influence doing that, having now taken everyone up to about 32. I didn't record any deaths on this though had a near miss - but I had saved my enraged defence/heroic moment and so on and hit them at the right time. Hey, I'm playing smarter!

Chapter VI

I found this chapter easy when I'd run it on veteran not long before, but that was not the case on master. Died the first time against Oggo, that was my own fault though, although he does have one particular ability that hits very hard. Then came the Scions. Ohhh boy. The first two you face killed me, fair enough I hadn't had a chance to raise Senya's influence yet. The second two, Venat and Berusal, caused me pain. The good thing is that when fighting the pairs and you take one down, if you die the other doesn't respawn. The other good thing is that Venat and Berusal can be pulled separately, the bad news is I found this out after a few attempts. And Berusal still killed me on his own the first time. I was not having a fun time. And then you face Heskal without a companion. It takes a bit of tactics. I tried to damage him whilst he was doing Debris Storm, though still had to avoid the red circles. Turbulence gives a lot of damage, so had to hastily get out the way/interrupt it. He also stuns you which isn't fun. Valky pops up and offers you an out after the first phase, unfortunately I decided to stay true to character and not take it. Bad times were had. I went to lunch. I asked a friend to help. My internet got switched off before that could happen. I found out I was able to summon a companion...I know I'm not supposed to story wise, and I'm not sure if you can normally (there's a lot of times when companion summon buttons are greyed out due to story restrictions) or if this was only because I'd previously logged out...but suddenly the fight became a lot easier. Funny that. Sigh. Moving on...

Chapter VII

Honestly not much to say about this one, nothing that caused me trouble. A lot of it is in the open world so regular difficulty rather than scaled to master.

Chapter VIII

This one wasn't much trouble either, did die once when stuff was on cooldown, once in the final Arcann fight. Kiting him over and hitting the conduits there is a big help as they stun him, that is probably very obvious but I've literally never bothered with them on story or vet mode. We're halfway there!

Chapter X

This one also gave me a Time. The problem I had was when you come up against Faedral and Zaamsk. My first thought was the difficulty was because I hadn't raised Kaliyo's influence (oops, but you get her on the spot and I didn't have gifts handy...or at least the ones I thought she liked she didn't actually) (this is how I found out that agent!Kaliyo and alliance!Kaliyo have different preferences, apparently this will also apply to other - but not all - returning companions). But I raised her to 28 and still kept dying. It's a bit of a nasty fight honestly, and the guide I looked at said that juggs...aren’t ideal for it. Crowd control and interrupts are very handy. I kept getting really close to getting one of them down and dying just before I could, super annoying because it's another of those where if you take one down and die, you only have to face the other one. I took a break and read the guide more closely, watched some videos, and ultimately just decided to bring someone along to avoid the pain, or maybe share in it. I still died but we got through them. The fight against Tayvor Slen, the boss fight of the chapter, took a couple of tries with two of us - the first time I got stuck in a red circle and pretty much insta-killed. There was a bit of a close call on the second attempt but it was under control really. The achievement then comes through for chapter completion, all you have to do then is get out of the Overwatch, all things rosy right? Oh how wrong they were. A bunch of Zakuul Knights came along and literally just slaughtered us, full on, one-shotting us both - it was hilarious and extremely confusing because why?? how?? Did the bonus mission to get the prisoners to escape (look out for the glowing terminal, it says 'Overwatch Prison Logs' when you hover over it) - they one-shot a few Knights but then disappeared on us too. Who knows. But we got through it.

Chapter XI

A much nicer one though still had a handful of deaths. Where you meet up with Havoc Squad there's ambush of Skytroopers, followed by a couple of walkers - and the walkers beat me. They cast circles that I just couldn't get out of in time to save my health, even with my defensives. I'm not sure if they were the type to follow you or a sort of stamp move (I should have looked at the cast bar, come to think of it) - I suspect though it was the latter and so it wouldn't be an issue on a ranged character. The fight though does continue around you if you die so you don't lose the progress you make, just use the med probe, revive and rejoin. I only took Jorgan to level 7 because that was all the gifts I had, but most of the mobs were just regular trash, typically 3 at a time, which was no worry. When you attack the base the Knights are a bit harder - there's one round the back that does stealth strikes and that's a difficult one to face. I died - the respawn to medbay actually puts you inside the part with the forcefield you're supposed to take down, and then you can't get out of it...I maintain that I did find a way past the forcefield but it doesn't work as a cheesing method. Use your med probe, otherwise it's quick travel out and re-enter your phase. The final battle is a big droid (I forgot the name of it). It spawns a bunch of smaller droids, just ignore those and go for the boss - I didn't the first time and that's why I died - I lost Jorgan, I had two Knights chasing me whilst the droid put up shields, it didn't go well - second time I did it in less than a minute whilst using a heroic moment.

Chapter XII

This one you don't have a companion for, though it's not a big deal - for the most part my main enemy, as tends to be the case on this chapter, was the map. I think the regular mobs are scaled down a bit for playing without a companion. You can pick up an animal to help you as well, which you may as well do as things just die quicker. It runs off in caves. Valkorion does take your health down a fair chunk before he gives you his beat down but it wasn't so bad. Vaylin though took quite a few attempts. You can't interrupt her so you have to be on the ball with your defensives and timing them all, which includes the shield and medpac given in your temporary bar for the chapter. Really the medpac isn't that effective so don't count on it. There's a lot of running around as she casts red circles. Probably easier with a character with more self heals. I got through it after a few efforts, after getting close a few times, though even then I was still low on health by the end.

Chapter XIII

Yeah, this one was no trouble really, and that was with Gault at only level 4 influence. If things get hairy whack a bit more on him, there's no real mechanics to pose problems. As ever, good practice to stay out of circles on the boss fight, you have Vette there as well so a bit of extra damage going and yeah. Nothing to worry about.

Chapter XIV

Another that was nice and simple, I didn't even have any gifts to give Torian so was wandering around with him on level 1. Just a matter of timing defensives and heroic moments in that case. Lots is open world, too. Final boss fight was no problem at all.

Chapter XV

Reading guides for this put the fear of god into me, so I was pleasantly surprised to find it better than expected. The bosses were the toughest parts. The first is the Skytrooper Constructor, that one does spawn adds after a while as well. It killed me a couple of times but really I'm not sure what the best strategy was so I just went for the classic, burn it as fast as I possibly can and making use of heroic moment/defensives as well. The GEMINI droid at the end had me worried. That took 3 attempts (maybe 4, I think it was just 3 though), one of those my heroic moment was still on cooldown and Senya died quickly on it too. It was really just about managing defensives effectively as well, running away when she has the red cone in front of you, using the heroic moment for extra speedy damage. It was a close call in the end but my enraged defence came off cooldown at the perfect moment, thank you Grit Teeth. I wouldn't say this was an easy chapter by any means so quite proud of myself for getting through it on my own! The other thing I would say is watch out for the lasers - they don't do lots of damage on story mode, but on master they one-shot you if you get caught in them! The other various traps I probably got through easier than I have on the lower difficulties which may just be a testament to this being like, my fifth complete kotfe run at this stage haha.

Chapter XVI

The final chapter...and the one I was the most scared of. Took Lana up to lvl 50 in preparation...she duly died early on in the first boss anyway. KJ-931 is the first boss - I say first boss, there's still a high rank enemy immediately before that I died to a few times anyway and needed a heroic moment to beat. First attempt against KJ I actually came really close. Stay out of the aoes - there's a white circle and a yellow cone, as well as a big red laser thing where you have to rush to the corner and if you can - micromanage Lana well enough that she doesn't get caught up in them too. So I learnt that I am not good at micromanaging companions like that. Take the turrets rather than the shields, definitely - apparently the shields also have limited use, the turrets pull aggro as well as giving you damage so they're very handy. Sometimes on this fight I got one-shotted very quickly, others I managed to hold on a bit - but it was the first attempt that was my best run until I actually did it. Honestly I can't say what the trick was to finally getting it right...just a lot of blind panic and luck. Second boss is Dara Nadal - I found it easier to just go for the intense burn on her - put down the turrets, use a heroic moment, set Lana to damage as well and burn. Still took a few attempts on her but each time I was getting very close so I knew I would get there.

And then came Arcann. Ooooh boy. I'd been reading guides and watching videos in preparation but there's still a lot to keep on top of. I decided to use the Marr & Satele Special Saber rather than my usual one - having the benefit of being able to run around quickly was handy, and the other ability reflects damage from his saber attack. This took many attempts - some that went very quickly, some that got him to his final phase. Rather than going into specifics I'm going to link to this video as it probably explains what to do best (it’s handy for all the bosses). You really have to watch for the moment he gets to ~25% and stands in one spot - if you aren't able to do the shield whacky he will kill you straight up. My first time running towards him with the shield in that very last phase I died on the way up. It took me a long time and a lot on repair bills but this is another one I was very proud of for getting through on my own as there were times I didn't think I would.

General stuff:

I would say doing this is not for the light-hearted but it’s certainly possible! Apart from one chapter where I grabbed a friend I got through them all on my own

Some classes fair better in certain chapters than others. I went with my Jugg all the way through, but if you have the characters geared and you know them well enough - and you're doing this for the cheevos rather than going through the storyline - you're likely better off mixing and matching as you go. There were many occasions I wished I had range.

You will die to trash mobs. It is a fact of life. It feels embarrassing in the early chapters, you come to accept this and move on.

Companion influence helps a lot. Koth, Lana, and Senya all like delicacies (especially Koth, that man can eat) - you can grab these from the Jawa vendors in the cartel bazaar on fleet.

Med droids are also a booming industry thanks to the amount I've spent on repairs in the course of this.

There are more mechanics compared to story mode, and some that exist in story mode that you just notice more on master. But apparently the difference between vet and master is just artificial - more health and hitting harder.

Going Commando is another good resource for their experiences playing through.

#swtor #kotfe #master kotfe adventures #ro goes achievement hunting #fun fact: completing a master chapter counts for completing the vet chap too #also fun fact: 20 cartel coins each for completing it all on master and vet #pls congratulate and validate me lmao

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sinner-as-saint · 4 years

Text

Love Made Me Crazy - 5.

CEO/ Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader.

Part 5 of the Love Made Me Crazy series.

Run-through: It was all strategic; a plan meticulously constructed by you and your business partner; against James Buchanan Barnes. Not to take him down, no. But just to be one step ahead of him in the business world by uncovering his secrets; to learn his ways and hope to be better than him in every way possible. The façade you put up – of being close to him and earning his trust was supposed to be short-lived, most importantly; harmless. But then as always, things got a tad bit more complex when feelings intervened…

Themes throughout the series: ceo!bucky, angst, smut, fluff, somewhat manipulative reader, mob!bucky

a/n: alright, this is it. This is the final part of this series. Thank you for staying till now! (despite the hate this series got in the beginning lmaoooo) I love you guys!

You stared at him in both disbelief and pain – quite literally.

Your cramps were killing you and you could no longer hold yourself up. But you couldn’t deal with your emotions either so you just stood there, looking uncomfortable.

“Argue with me all you want later. Just come here right now, I know you’re in pain.” He held his hand out.

You tried giving it a thought, but with all the physical and emotional pain, you couldn’t focus on anything so just got under the covers with Bucky and let him hold you. Because God knows you craved his body heat.

Bucky spooned you from behind, pulling your back into his chest and just held you against him. Your body tensed just a little at his touch, but right when you relaxed, he gently slipped his hands under your shirt and rubbed little circles on your tummy – he still remembered how those calmed you down.

It might have been the hormones, or just the tiredness or that you simply couldn’t handle the emotions anymore; so you didn’t even try to hold back the tears as they threatened to fall.

With your back to him, Bucky didn’t realize that you had been crying until a quiet sob shook you entire body.

He didn’t say anything, he just tightened his grip around you and nuzzled your neck. And just like that, it felt like the old Bucky was back; caring, loving and gentle.

“Don’t cry.” He said after a while.

But it didn’t matter what he said. You could only take so much, and the past few weeks have been emotionally and mentally draining.

“You’re so confusing.” You said, sniffling. And you heard him sigh like it was the hundredth time he was hearing that phrase.

“So were you.”

You sighed and wiped your tears and sniffled again. Bucky adjusted your hot water bottle better.

“I said sorry.” You pointed out.

He scoffed but in a playful manner, as though arguing with a child.

“Yeah but you don’t mean it.” he argued back immediately.

You groaned, trying to find the energy to keep going because you refused to let him win this one.

“Think you know everything, don’t you? Why are you still here being nice to me then?” you sounded much less bitter than before.

Now it sounded like a playful banter, like two kids refusing to let the other have the last word.

“Like I said, I’m trying to earn husband points.” He replied, pushing his face further into your neck to a point where his voice sounded slightly muffled.

You rolled your eyes at him even though he couldn’t see you.

“Whatever.” You were running out of things to say.

Bucky chuckled and kept his mouth shut this time; letting you win because he knew that despite the pain, you could go on for a long time.

So he just held you to make you feel better. You hissed and squirmed and moved around now and then, when the cramps got too much to handle. But each time he’d rub your tummy or your back, the pain subsided quite a bit.

There was silence between the two of you again, and this time, it was much more comfortable than the last time.

Bucky spoke up after a while.

“Do you want to go see him?” he asked, nuzzling the side of your face as he waited for an answer.

Despite having an idea of who he was talking about, you asked again just to be sure. “Who?”

“Tony.” He replied.

And you almost jumped out of bed again.

“Please tell me you didn’t keep him in some creepy basement. Please Bucky.” you hated the very thought of seeing Tony in a situation like that. He didn’t deserved it.

Bucky chuckled.

“Chill, baby. I didn’t. You want to go see him though?” he asked again. But instead of answering him, you turned around and faced him, glaring at him and his stupid question.

Of course you wanted to see Tony.

A few days later, Bucky finally took you to Tony.

Bucky drove on your way there. A similar car to his led the way, and another followed you – his guards. The roads were unfamiliar to you so you spent your time looking out of the window. Meanwhile, Bucky stole quick glances at you.

He didn’t know why he chose to do this now; perhaps it was the look of guilt and pain in your eyes which he couldn’t bear. He couldn’t hurt you even if he tried. So he decided to put an end to your misery.

Meanwhile you were, again, overthinking. It was moments like these which messed you up the most; these calm, mundane moments spent with Bucky. Driving to somewhere, or having breakfast together, or just being in the same room and sharing space without saying a word to each other – when everything was calm and comfortable, to a point where you forgot that you initially weren’t here by choice.

Those were the times when you couldn’t name what you were feeling. Like in a seething cauldron, emotions were just overflowing. Because in those moments, Bucky was not the mob boss whom the world knew, now, as being cold and cruel. Instead, he was just Bucky. Gentle, loving – the Bucky you knew all those months back. The one whose heart you broke, and left him just days before your wedding day because you were too proud to admit that you were wrong.

Guilt is a terrible thing, you concluded.

“What are you thinking about?” Bucky broke the silence first and briefly looked at you before turning his eyes back to the road.

“Nothing.” You lied, when in reality you were thinking about everything.

Bucky chuckled.

“I know your over thinking face, and you have it on right now. So, don’t lie. Tell me, what are you thinking about?” he asked again, persistent as always.

You sighed and looked down at your lap.

“Why now? Why didn’t you ask if I wanted to see Tony earlier? At this point, you’re either plotting something else or you’re just randomly doing things to mess with me even more.” You finally voiced out your most recent thought.

Bucky was quiet for a while.

“2 years ago when you walked into my life, and stayed for longer than you should have, did you do it because you were plotting something else or were you just messing me with me?”

His question shut you up.

Why did you stay? You asked yourself. You heard the answer somewhere in the back of your mind, but you didn’t pay much attention.

After driving for a while longer, in silence still, Bucky spoke up and told you that you were here. The guards at the gate let Bucky in without wasting any more time and your eyes widened when you took a good look at the house.

“You kept Tony here?” you asked, looking at the rather spacious house on a private property. As houses go, this was a damn good looking one.

“Better than a dungeon, is it not?” he sassed and stopped the car right in front of the very grand front door. “Go on, he must be waiting for you.” he said, and reached over and opened the door for you.

“Aren’t you coming?” you asked.

Bucky smirked.

“Aww, are you worried about being away from your husband for a little while?” he asked, teasing as though talking to a child. You sighed and rolled your eyes at him. And he chuckled. “I’ll wait outside, I’m sure neither you nor him want me in there.”

He did have a point.

You rushed out of the car and walked up to the door, one of the guards by the door held it open for you and closed it the moment you stepped inside.

You were about to call out for Tony but then you saw him, on the other side of the grand living room. He winked at you and held his arms open and you immediately began tearing up as you ran into his arms.

“Tony!” you exclaimed as you wrapped your arms around him and laid your head on his shoulder and cried like a baby.

You cried bitterly for the first time since this whole thing happened. Tony held you close and allow you to let it all out.

“Come on now, stop crying kiddo.” He finally got you to stop and ushered you towards the couch in the living room.

You sniffled and wiped your tears away, in desperate need for answers.

“How long has he kept you here?” you asked, worried about Tony, while the latter had a bright smile on his face.

“You mean in this lavish home, with a home theater and a heated pool? I gotta say, your husband sure knows how to spoil his prisoners.” He joked, emphasizing on ‘your husband’ and tilting his head at you while you rolled your eyes and looked away. “He brought me here the day you got married. And honestly, I’m not complaining.”

He finally answered and reached out to touch your head affectionately. You sniffled again and looked down at your lap; ashamed to face him.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” You couldn’t say anything other than apologize. Tony was kept here because of you, it was all your fault.

Tony smiled, rather playfully and nodded his head to agree with you.

“Yeah no I agree. This is all your doing, it’s all you. No one else but you. You did this. You put us yourself in this situation.” He spoke, sarcastically as always.

Seeing his humor stayed the same gave you some solace. Even though he was blaming you.

“You’re blaming me too.” You didn’t disagree, you were just upset that you were finally admitting that this whole mess was a chain reaction of something you kick started.

Tony shook his head. “No, not blaming you. Enlightening you.” He corrected you and faced you with his usual comforting smile.

You gave him a confused look, furrowing your brows at him while he shook his head and muttered “kids” under his breath.

“See, I told you to come home so many times. Yet, each time you stayed with him. That wasn’t my doing, that wasn’t the plan. No, that was you. You chose to stay with him.” he explained, and his words all pointed to the one truth you didn’t want to admit.

“But Tony, I stayed so that we could find out more ab-,”

He cut you off quickly.

“No. We had all we needed, and I agree what we did was wrong. But you didn’t stay for anything other than the fact that you had fallen in love with him, kiddo. Always have been and still are. You just… got scared and left, part of it was my fault as well. I should be the one saying sorry.”

You didn’t reply, you just did what you do best – overthinking.

Tony sighed and smiled as he spoke up again. “Don’t you see it? All he did was to make you realize this. You’re the one who’s being stubborn and running from the fact that even you know that you’ve always loved him.” Tony chuckled and shook his head again. “I mean look at what you did, you turned me into a relationship therapist.”

You tried laughing at his joke but all that came out was a sob, and just like that, you were silently crying again.

You cried on Tony’s shoulder again and he did his best to calm you down.

“Still. Why would he buy the company and threaten to hurt mom?” you sniffled and Tony genuinely laughed.

“He didn’t. It’s still yours. He just lied.” Tony’s words made you stop crying and you pulled away from his shoulder and sighed in disbelief.

“So everything was just... just fake papers and empty threats?” realization slowly sunk in and you felt even more terrible.

Tony chuckled. “And you bought it. I mean, it’s not like we didn’t so that same to him. Think of it as karma.”

You wiped your tears away and began thinking over the whole thing again. Out of guilt, or the fear of having to face it and your mistakes, you had just been buying every lie he sold to you.

You were quiet for quite a while and every single memory of the time spent with Bucky resurfaced. The first time you met at the party one night. All the times you and his flirted shamelessly. Your first date, and the last. The time you first stayed over at his place, and how he told you he loved you the next morning, and never wants to lose you.

All the times he let his guard down with you, and let you in easily. All the times he shared his secrets, thinking you were the only one he could trust. All the times you and him spent hours just holding each other, pretending like the rest of the world didn’t exist.

Turns out, each day you had just been falling more and more for him; like he was for you.

“Say something, you’re scaring me.” Tony sassed.

You sighed, and shook your head.

“I just realized something.” You spoke up finally.

Tony chuckled, “Yeah, what?”

You took a deep breath and stood up from the couch and paced around for a little bit. “That I’m fucking stupid.” You finally admitted.

Tony chuckled. “Language kid.”

You sighed, tired of always having to deal with emotions that you tried to keep hidden. You couldn’t do it anymore.

“What do I do now?” you asked, genuinely lost.

“Well, there’s not much left to do. He’s already your husband.” He ended with a wink and you began tearing up again.

You looked at the front door, and then back to Tony who had a smile on his face. “Oh my God, Tony. I’m in love with my husband.” Realization hit you like a truck, and it sent Tony into a fit of laughter. “I should go out there, no?” Tony nodded.

And you rushed outside and searched for him; your husband.

You found him not far from the front door. He was leaning against his car, staring at his phone screen and didn’t notice you walking over to him.

You stopped right in front of him and stared at him until he shifted his attention to you. “Well that was quick, d-,”

You cut him off by pulling him forward and pressing your lips to his gently. He immediately melted and dropped the cocky façade and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer.

You slid your hands into his hair and deepened the kiss and you felt him smile through the kiss. His mouth moved against yours softly, while his grip tightened around your waist; as though scared you might just disappear.

You tugged on his lower lip as you pulled away to look up at him. Your eyes began watering again once you stared into his deep blue eyes.

“I didn’t lie either.” You said, and he smiled – understanding perfectly what you were referring to.

“Took you long enough to realize that, huh?” as always, he sassed.

“All this just to make me realize that I love you? You’re so dramatic.”

“I wouldn’t be if you weren’t so stubborn. Admit it, you love me since day one.”

You sighed and pressed your forehead to his, closing your eyes and just relished the feeling of him being so close to you.

“I missed you.” you confessed and he pulled you in for a hug, pushing his face into the crook of your neck, mumbling something you didn’t quite catch.

And just when you were about to ask him about it, you heard Tony’s voice yelling from the front door.

“You two, get off my lawn.” He joked and you and Bucky shared a laugh. “Also I like this house, I’m keeping it. Now go home both of you.” he playfully yelled again.

And you did.

You were sure that if Bucky wasn’t driving, he’d start getting handsy in the car itself. And once you got home, it was impossible for both of you to keep your hands off each other.

You ended up in his study since it was closer, and he took you right there on the couch. He undressed you eagerly and pulled you onto his lap.

His hands gripped your waist as he pressed you to his clothed body. You instinctively rolled your hips against his crotch and he playfully pinched your ass as you did. You straddled his thighs, your breasts merely inches away from his lips, he smirked. Slowly, he took of your sensitive buds in his mouth. He sucked on the soft skin as his teeth applied just the slightest bit of pressure upon the bud.

His warm tongue swirling around your nipple had you throwing your head back in pleasure. Your eyes closed as you relished his touch. Bucky released your nipple and kissed his way up until he reached your collar bones. He nibbled on your skin and the sweet pain had you whimpering in no time; given you had missed him and his touch so much. One of his hands moved away from your waist and slipped in between your thighs instead.

His knuckles rubbed against your wet folds as he smeared the wetness around, making you moan quietly against his cheek. His beard scratched your skin but you enjoyed every second of it.

“I missed you so fucking much, baby.” he whispered along your skin as he pushed two fingers into your entrance.

He let out a series of swear words when he took note of how tight you were. You whined when he curled his fingers inside of you, hitting your most sensitive spots. He stroked your walls with his two fingers and he soon had you coming undone around his fingers, which were now coated with your arousal.

Bucky slowly slipped his two fingers out of you and placed them against his lips, sinfully licking them clean; moaning at the taste of you.

He closed his eyes and enjoyed your taste. The sight had you blushing like crazy. You tried controlling your intake of air but just as you regained control over your senses, Bucky flipped the two of you on the couch.

As he was straddling you, you could clearly feel his growing bulge as it rested against your dripping core. The only thing keeping him from fucking you was his clothes. He placed his mouth on yours again. Your lips moved against one another’s perfectly, and he slipped his tongue past your lips instinctively.

His hands roamed around your body, touching you wherever he could until he finally cupped your core and rubbed the sensitive skin around your swollen clit – making you shudder under him.

“You made me all crazy, you know that?” His head dipped into your neck and he licked and bit around your skin until he found your sweet spot. He messed around with you for a little bit, then lifted off of your body for a quick second; removing his pants and briefs and unbuttoning his shirt in no time.

Bucky climbed back into the couch and hovered over you, stroking his thick length while he did so. Your mouth shamelessly watered at the sight of his body. You had missed him.

“Now who’s staring?” he joked and you smirked and pulled him closer.

He placed his mouth on top of yours again, to swallow the winces which came out of you as he pushed his length into your tight entrance. You slid your hands into his hair again, and tugged on it gently. His breathing got shallow again as he pushed himself fully into you.

“Fuck…” you whined, throwing your head back and moaning as he filled you up entirely. He lifted his head and watched you frowning as his cock stretched you out. He groaned at how well your walls wrapped around him, squeezing and clenching around him.

“I love you so much.” he whispered against your mouth, before he tugged on your lips and he started moving his hips – rocking into you slowly, then gradually increasing his speed.

Your back arched off the surface of the couch and your chest pressed to his.

Bucky’s lips kissed your face; all over. He seemed to be compensating for the sweet pain he was causing you. You hooked your legs around his lean waist as his thrusts got rougher than the last. You were a moaning mess under him.

“You’re mine.” he spoke in your ear, groaning as you lifted your hips to meet each one of his thrusts.

He pounded into you, his hands travelling all over your body, until one of them wrapped around your throat. He fucked you raw and relentlessly, watching how your face morphed into frowns of pleasure.

Your body shook against him, your legs felt numbs as he relentlessly slammed into you. Bucky slid his hand in between your connected bodies and furiously rubbed your clit, earning a loud moan out of you.

As he did so, the pressure at your core became too much to handle. Guess he noticed, as he slipped his tongue back into your mouth one last time and took your bottom lip between his teeth again.

“Don’t you dare cum yet.” He mumbled against your lips as he sped up into you again; making you cry out as you tried your hardest to do as he asked.

Bucky’s thrusts slowed down, and he finally removed himself from you and flipped you over; making you lie in your stomach and your ass up in the air.

You were still breathless but he wasn’t quite done with you yet. He lifted your hips upwards and bent your knees under you so it was easier for him to fuck you again. He groaned as he slipped into you again. Soon, he was pounding into you all over again – faster than earlier, it was almost animalistic. But you weren’t complaining.

Your body moved against him like a rag doll; you tried meeting each one of his thrusts but you gave up midway because you were too focused on the pleasure his body brought you to be able to focus on something else.

Bucky rocked in and out of you continuously, moaning and grunting in the process. Tears fell out of your eyes as the pleasure became too much to handle; and you felt the pressure forming again.

“Fuck… I missed you so much.” Bucky murmured as he increased his pace; ramming his cock into you mercilessly.

Your thoughts were a mess yet again as you felt your vision becoming blurrier with each passing second. Your squirmed in pleasure as both his hands gripped your hips, pushing you into him harshly each time he filled you up.

The sweet, familiar pain formed again, and you came without any warning – gushing out all over him as he kept slamming into you, chasing his own orgasm as your walls clenched around him, squeezing him all over again. Bucky came right after you.

You couldn’t hold yourself up anymore, you were about to collapse on the couch but Bucky held you up just in time and pulled you on his lap again. His sweaty torso pressed against your back, he rubbed along your sides as he whispered comforting words in your ear; his face pushed into the crook of your neck.

“I’m sorry Buck.” you apologized, sincerely; while panting and worn out in his arms.

He kissed the side of your face repeatedly. “I’m sorry too. I was a total asshole.” He said.

You turned sideways and cupped his face, leaning in to give him a soft kiss on his swollen lips. “I was an even bigger asshole to you though.” You pointed out.

“But I kind of took you away by force and married you, so… think I’m the bigger asshole here.”

“But I broke you.”

“I was cold to you.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Just let me win, damn it!”

And he chuckled, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “Let’s forget about it. It’s in the past. I don’t care what happened, I just want you.” he confessed and looked you in the eyes while he spoke.

You started tearing up again, but then he tightened his grip around you and pressed you further against his chest.

“I love you, husband.” You said, pushing your face into his chest and hugging him back.

Bucky chuckled.

“I love you too, baby.” he kissed the top of your head. “Will you marry me? Again? Properly this time?” he asked and you smiled and pulled away to look at him with nothing but pure adoration.

“Yes.”

Fin.

---

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nobodyfamousposts · 4 years

Text

BURN THE WITCH! Part 6

Well...you all did ask...

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Marinette chanted as she ran.

Not that anyone was chasing her or there was even any reason to run with Fu completely knocked out. Honestly, she may have just been running from her own guilt more than anything by this point.

She didn’t stop running until she was at least a good several blocks away. Her legs were burning and she was gasping for breath when she finally felt she had made it far enough to rest. With her mind running a mile a minute, she somehow managed to find an alleyway between two mostly empty storefronts to use as a hiding space to try and regroup.

“I’m so sorry…” She had attacked Master Fu. She had hit her mentor over the head. SHE HIT AN ELDERLY MAN WITH A FRYING PAN!

“You should be sorry!” Tikki admonished her from her hiding place in Marinette’s bag. “Now there won’t be anyone to sell us popcorn!”

“NotnowTikki!”

Okay. Okay. Recap.

She had the Dragon Miraculous—even if she’d had to knock out Master Fu to get it, which was a horrible thing to do even if it did at least prevent him from stopping her or trying anything to help the akuma because the other Miraculous users were mostly if not all likely under the akuma’s influence by now and fighting them to try and save Lila was NOT something she wanted to do today on top of everything else…

The akuma has had time to get more followers and seems to have amassed a greater army by this point. The lynch mob that those followers have become were apparently in the process of trying to 1) hunt down Lila and 2) set up a pyre for the intended burning. While the followers have been focused on those two things, the akuma herself has been mobile and roaming around Paris, seemingly for the purpose of finding Lila while also enthralling more followers to aid her cause.

Tikki was one of those under the akuma’s influence as well. So far she had been trying to convince Marinette to not try and save Lila, which was…frustratingly tempting but not overall harmful. What WAS of concern was the question of what effect Tikki’s condition would have on Ladybug once transformed. Would Ladybug immediately be under the akuma’s thrall as well? Or would Tikki’s state influence the Lucky Charm? The former seemed unlikely, but she couldn’t rule out the latter.

There has as of yet been no sign of Chat Noir. She had no way of knowing where he was or if the akuma had already gotten to him. Her hope was that he, like Marinette, was also unaffected by the akuma’s words since he also knew what Lila was capable of. Or he should at least, given they were both aware of Lila’s multiple akumatizations and her helping Hawk Moth. He may not go to her school or know Lila personally, but he should know that much, right?

And then there was Lila herself. Marinette had no idea where she had escaped to after her failed attempt to sacrifice Marinette to the angry mob, but she at least knew that the mob hadn’t found her yet. She wanted to take some relief at that, but unfortunately knew she couldn’t. Given Lila’s previous antics and that the fact she was being hunted did nothing to even so much as slow her down from attempting other self-serving things, Marinette was honestly more worried about what all Lila could have gotten up to. While the smart thing to do would be to hide somewhere and wait, Marinette wouldn’t put it past the liar to take advantage of whatever opportunity this mess could give her, even at the risk of her own safety.

Part of her felt guilty for that being her bigger concern. The rest of her, however, knew better. She knew full well what Lila was like, after all. She had seen her at her worst first-hand.

Maybe that was why she hadn’t fallen under the akuma’s sway? Even if she didn’t know every horrible the things Lila had done, she still knew Lila was capable of anything. So nothing the akuma announced Lila has done actually surprised her.

It may only be a matter of time, though. Even Ladybug had her limits.

“Okay. Okay.” Marinette slapped her cheeks to focus. “Just…find the akuma, purify it, and this will all be over.”

Well, not ALL over. There would still be the matter of Lila’s theft and reveal of her lies. That money needed to be recovered. Rose still needed help. There were legal issues to take into account. But there were still plenty of ways of dealing with those things. Ways which didn’t involve fire.

Marinette just needed to deal with the akuma so she could actually have some peace to address those problems. Or at the very least, so the world would stop trying to tempt her to allowing murder to take place.

Resolute and with a plan, Marinette walked out of the alleyway.

And right into one of the main sources of her troubles.

“Lila?!”

Speak of the devil…

“What happened to you?” Marinette asked, immediately concerned. Lila’s hair was damp and frizzing. It looked like she had just taken a shower—though the smell certainly said differently. Marinette had to fight the instinct to draw away from the odor. “Are you okay? And…wait…are those my clothes?” Marinette cut off with narrowed eyes at the girl as she recognized what she was wearing as coming from her own wardrobe.

“There was an unfortunate misunderstanding.” Lila said, waving it off.

Yeah, not buying it.

“Being?”

“Nothing you need to know about. I made it out, however, and your parents were happy to help me.” Lila said before looked down at her new attire, pulling at a sleeve distastefully. “I can’t say much about their taste though…”

“So you were at my house.” Which was no small cause of annoyance given that Marinette had been trying to take her there earlier, but knowing Lila had been in her home without her knowledge…

Marinette sighed, resigned. “What did you do?”

Lila gasped, looking affronted. “Why would you assume I did anything?”

Because Lila’s a lying snake she couldn’t trust with a stale bagel, much less her home.

She merely gave Lila a dry look. “Because if you had been at the bakery, there must be a reason why you’re out in the streets now.”

While she loved her parents dearly, they weren’t always the most dependable. Sabrina had gotten into her room once before by slipping past them when they weren’t paying attention to just WHOM was going up to her room. Then there was the situation with Chloe’s bracelet and her father doing more to admonish her for defending herself than helping her when she was accused. Or the way her parents didn’t really listen to her when Lila had gotten her expelled.

Knowing them, they would try and help Lila regardless of her previous false accusations. Even if it meant allowing Lila access to things she shouldn’t be allowed access to. Like Marinette’s clothes. Or her room.

…please say they didn’t let her into her room.

“I have better options for places to hide than a sad little one-note bakery.”

Marinette was not impressed. “Then why did you end up at the bakery instead of wherever that was?”

Lila laughed. “Well, they did offer. And who am I to turn down a free offer, even if it’s from your parents?” She shook her head. “You would think they would have known better. But they are rather trusting, aren’t they? They trusted me easily enough. First with your ‘crimes’ and now again.”

She clenched her fists. “Because you lied!”

“So what if I did? It says something when they were willing to believe me over you.” Lila shrugged, uncaringly. “But does it say more about me? Or you?”

Lila was clearly baiting her. But if nothing else, this day had taught Marinette to deny temptation.

“Are you REALLY trying to start a fight right now? In case it’s slipped your mind, Lila, there are a lot of very angry people trying to hunt you down. And every bad thing you do is only giving them more ammunition to want to hunt you!”

Lila hesitated at that, looking uncertain for all of a moment before settling back into cool confidence. “Those idiots would believe anything. I could just as easily tell them that everything from before was the result of another akuma. Or that my ‘illness’ was acting up. They would believe it that. After all, they believed me about all my other injuries.”

Marinette shook her head.

“You can’t keep it up forever, Lila. Your lies rely on emotional appeal to make people feel sorry for you or obligated to help you. But people will get tired of it and then what? You just move on to the next school?”

“The next school. The next community. The next city. The next country. It’s worked for me so far.”

“Because you’ve never been held accountable so far. But the mess you make isn’t going to go away this time.”

“It doesn’t matter. Ladybug will save me, and then she'll save the day, just like she always does. Because she just has to be ‘the hero’.” Lila rolled her eyes. “She's too much of a goodie two shoes to fall for mudslinging. Then all I have to do is point out to everyone that Ladybug herself believed in me when no one else did and they’ll fall back in line. I will be queen again. Or if I can’t continue there, I can simply transfer out and start over somewhere else where I can. So it really doesn't matter what happens."

Marinette didn’t even hide the glare at this point. “And who is going to help you survive that long? Who do you have in your back pocket who will be willing to face down an akuma leading an angry mob out for your head?”

She stepped forward and Lila took a tentative step back.

“I’m certainly not seeing anyone else here with you right now. I mean, sure, I was willing to help you, and then you literally tried to sacrifice me to the akuma. My parents would gladly have kept you safe at the bakery unless you did something. Who do you even have that you haven’t turned against you? I would love to know.”

“Hey, I had your friends in my corner.” Lila shot back.

“In case you haven’t noticed, Lila: right now, I am the only person anywhere close to your corner. In fact, I’m probably the only person in all of Paris who wants you to NOT die a horrible fiery death despite knowing full well just how horrible of a person you are.”

“And of course you’re so concerned about me.” Lila scoffed.

“Against my better judgement.” Marinette muttered.

“Oh please.” She replied with a roll of her eyes. “We both know you would happily leave me to perish if you had the chance.”

Marinette glared. “That’s the sort of thing you would do, Lila. But I’m not like you.”

She was angry. And she would be lying if there wasn’t a good part of her that wanted to simply give up

But Lila only sneered. “Of course not, you’re like Ladybug. Self righteous, holier-than-thou, so-called heroes who have to stick your noses into other people’s business even when it doesn’t affect you.”

“You were lying to people!” Marinette exclaimed hotly. It was perhaps a bit too loudly, but she was having increasing difficulty caring at this point.

“And what did that matter for either of you?”

Marinette bristled. But Lila ignored her, continuing to speak and defend herself.

“I only told people what they wanted to hear. Alya wanted news for her blog. The others wanted stories. Even Adrien wanted a connection to a superhero. So what did it matter if I gave it to them whether it was real or not? It didn’t warrant what Ladybug did. And anything I’ve done since didn’t have to happen if not for her. Honestly, this is really all her fault.”

“Ladybug’s fault?!” Marinette gaped.

She…she couldn’t be serious?

But Lila nodded, resolutely.

Marinette just stared. Did…did she really believe her own lies that much?

The fact that she was even now trying to justify it only made her more angry. Her actions as Ladybug weren’t the best, and were far from heroic. She admitted to being wrong and apologized at that time and even afterwards to no effect. But here and now, especially with Lila’s continued and even worsening antics, she wanted to defend her masked self. And this may be the only time she would get to do so.

“It’s not Ladybug’s fault you lied about being her best friend and another superhero to Adrien.”

Lila paused before frowning at Marinette, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “And how do you know about that?”

Normally, Marinette would have stumbled and tried to stutter out some weak excuse. But Marinette was tired, angry, and beyond caring. For once, she didn’t even miss a beat.

“Because it’s not like you were confronted by a superhero in a public park where anyone could happen to be nearby and witness it or anything.” She replied dryly.

Lila’s eyes widened. “So that’s how you knew I was lying?”

Marinette didn’t answer. Fortunately, she didn’t need to.

“I was just trying to impress Adrien. But he only had eyes for a superhero. Was it so wrong to want to get his attention the only way I could?” Lila said by way of explanation, sounding sad and hurt in a way Marinette could almost believe if it weren’t for the fact that the person it was coming from was Lila. And sure enough, Lila turned to Marinette, appearing for all intents and purposes as if they were somehow bonded through a shared suffering over a boy they both liked. “You know what it’s like, don’t you? The way he’s only watching her? Isn’t it unfair that for all the good you do for him, he doesn’t see you? That he worships a stranger in a mask over the real life hero who is beside him every day?”

Her words stung a bit, yes. Mostly because she knew they weren’t true. Adrien was in love with Kagami, not Ladybug. So whether or not Marinette was wearing a mask didn’t matter.

Thus she ignored Lila’s attempts to draw her in and focused on the glaring problem in her story.

“And what was she supposed to do if Adrien or Alya or anyone came up to her and asked her about you?”

And like that, Lila’s caring facade broke as her face twisted into an ugly snarl.

“She was supposed to never find out and just keep her mouth shut. But she went and blabbed. She made me look like a liar in front of Adrien.”

The fact that it was only because she WAS a liar seemed to not matter to her, much to Marinette’s disbelief.

“I had Adrien Agreste hanging off my every word and then she came along and ruined it!” Lila was seething at the memory.

Hearing all of this only made things worse. Even now, Lila saw nothing wrong with anything she did, only with how others responded to her. And to hear her blast Ladybug in such a way made Marinette’s ire rise.

“He would have figured it out.” Marinette pointed out. Adrien was smart. Trusting and kind, but not easily fooled. “You claimed to be a superhero but what was going to happen when you couldn’t transform or use your superpowers to back it.”

“I could just say I can’t transform without cause and compromise my identity—“

“Then why even tell him you were a hero in the first place?” Marinette countered, more annoyed. “The entire plan was stupid! You revealed yourself to a stranger for no real reason! You two didn’t know each other! You had no connection with him to establish trust or any reason TO tell him such vital information!”

Lila glared, looking downright petulant. “It wouldn’t have mattered if he believed me.”

Of all the…

“Even if he DID believe you at first,” Marinette continued. “It only would have made him more upset with you when the truth came out. And it would have come out soon enough. He was bound to notice that no Fox-themed hero was joining Ladybug in fights.”

“I would have been in reserve.” Lila reasoned.

“Given how bad some akumas have gotten, no amount of excuses could justify NOT using extra help. And what about when the other heroes started appearing? What, were you going to claim to be Rena Rouge?”

That made Lila grimace. “There weren’t supposed to BE any other heroes.”

Marinette threw up her hands. “You read the book! You saw the pictures! That’s how you even knew about Volpina in the first place!”

Lila blinked in surprise. “Wait, how do you know about that?”

Marinette glared angrily. “Who do you think returned that book to Adrien’s father after you threw it in the trash?”

“Oh right. You were spying on us.” Lila smirked.

“You’re lucky I was there at all!” Marinette bit out through gritted teeth. “That book belonged to Adrien’s FATHER! He was FURIOUS when it was lost! Enough that he was going to pull Adrien out of school for losing it!”

Which she was still upset over. Especially since she had taken the blame for it instead of admitting Lila did it.

“Even if your plan HAD worked, you wouldn’t have had a chance at Adrien anyway because he wouldn’t be in school anymore! He’s only in school now because I took the hit and returned it.”

“Yes, and I’m sure you only had the most ‘noble’ of intentions.” The other girl stated with a roll of your eyes. “And the fact that you would be losing any chance at Adrien had NOTHING to do with it. Don’t act like you’re any different.”

“I did it so HE would be happy.” Marinette insisted. “Because Adrien loves coming to school and I didn’t want him to lose that. Don’t even try to claim we’re the same when you’re the only reason he was put in that position in the first place!”

She was getting more heated and was finding it harder to care. But it was like everything Lila had done and every reason Marinette disliked her was rushing back into her head.

“The one thing I’ve noticed is that not only do you lie, but you don’t think your lies through. What was even the point of claiming all the things you did?” She questioned, looking at Lila in the eyes. Legitimately trying to understand. “You don’t just claim minor things to get by. You tell outrageous lies that are difficult to believe in the first place and are easy to disprove. And for what? To get people to hold things for you and buy you lunch or ice cream. Then what? It’s just…”

Pointless. That was the problem. Lila’s lies were completely pointless in the end. They offered some short term benefit but failed to hold up over time—whether in believability or interest. While it was true that Marinette’s concern was for her classmates who had no benefit from Lila’s lies, the thing was that Lila had nothing to gain from them either.

It was like she was lying for the sake of lying.

“Do you even notice the impact you’re having on others? Or care? What are you even getting out of it?”

What could possibly make it all worth it?

There was a period of silence as the two stared at each other.

Then Lila…

Lila just laughed.

“What don’t I get out of it? Their focus. Their adoration. I am their Queen in a way Chloe Bourgeois wishes she was. The center of attention. The one they adore. Wasn’t that why you really got upset with me that first day back?”

“What?”

“Oh come on, even you must get it or you wouldn’t try so hard to play up the ‘good girl’ angle to make people like you.”

Marinette drew back, confused.

“Everybody plays each other. That’s all anybody ever does. We play parts.”

She didn’t believe that. In a way she could try and understand Lila’s logic considering her secret identity. But even with her mask of Ladybug and her role as a hero, it wasn’t just a ‘part to play’. Ladybug was still Marinette, and Marinette was still Ladybug. They were parts, certainly, but they were both her.

The difference between Marinette with her dual roles and Lila with her lies was that Lila had a choice. She didn’t need to lie or pretend to be someone she wasn’t. And in that same vein, she certainly

“You chose to play this part.” Marinette argued. “You never had to lie for anyone to like you.”

“Oh please. Do you really think they would have done anything for me if I hadn’t lied?”

“YES. They were being nice! They’re nice people!”

Lila rolled her eyes, unimpressed.

“And,” Marinette continued. “You didn’t have to use and abuse their kindness the way you’ve been doing. There was no reason to lie to the extent you did. You could have avoided more trouble if you hadn’t. And yet you not only lied about running a charity, but you used the opportunity to steal the money Rose had raised. Was it even worth it?”

“I got some things out of it at least.” Lila said, uncaring.

“And one of those ‘things’ happens to be an akuma after your head. What plan could you possibly have to prevent THAT?”

"I have friends in high places." Lila stated in an infuriatingly smug manner.

"Unless one of those friends is Hawk Moth, that's not going to help you right now!"

Lila chuckled, giving Marinette a knowing look. As if she knew a secret.

And because it was Lila, who couldn’t seem to resist gloating when she thought she had the edge over someone else…

“Then I have nothing to worry about. It’s not like he would let anything happen. Not to me.”

“Wait—what?”

Marinette had known Lila had been akumatized more than once. She also knew that Lila had tried to help Hawk Moth before. But that had seemed like she had been taking advantage of circumstances at the time. She hadn’t realized Lila was actively working with Hawk Moth!

“Are you saying you’re working WITH Hawk Moth?!”

Lila held a hand to her mouth, looking innocent. “Not at all! I’m merely saying that I’m useful to him. Enough that it would benefit him more to keep me around than it would to let the akuma kill me.”

Marinette stared incredulously.

“Besides, even if Rose wants to harm me, Ladybug and Chat Noir always take priority. Once they show up, she’ll be too focused on them to care about me. And if she does get to me, Hawk Moth would stop it before it gets too far.”

“You’re trusting a supervillain to help you?”

She couldn’t be serious!

“He can’t afford to get rid of me. I came closest to defeating Ladybug and Chat Noir in my first akumatization.”

Oh god, she was serious.

“He doesn’t need you, Lila! Hawk Moth’s entire MO has been to manipulate and use people for his own ends! What makes you think you are any different?”

“Because I know how to play him and he knows how much I hate Ladybug.”

Marinette gaped.

“You really hate her that much over one incident? Are you really that petty that you would actively try to help the guy terrorizing Paris?”

It…she couldn’t even rationalize it.

Here Lila was, still completely lacking any personal accountability for anything. After lying and manipulating her friends. After stealing from Rose. After framing Marinette. After working against Ladybug. After admitting to using and manipulating Adrien. After trying to throw Marinette under the bus to save her own skin. After helping to create an akuma that even now was overtaking Paris. And all she could care about was how Ladybug pointed out she was a liar one time.

“She humiliated me!”

And Marinette was just done.

“GET OVER IT!”

Lila gaped at her in shock.

“Get. The hell. OVER it already! So Ladybug was mean when she called you out for lying about her and trying to make her look bad to prop yourself as a false hero to a boy you barely knew! CRY ME A RIVER!”

There was something amusing and even pleasing about the way Lila’s jaw opened and shut a few times before she managed to speak.

“But she made me look bad in front of Adrien!”

“Which wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t of lied about her in the first place!“ Marinette countered, pointing at Lila angrily. “You lied about her to him. You lied about being a hero. You lied about being her friend. And you used that claimed position to then insult her to try and make her look bad just to make yourself look better in comparison based off a made up story! It’s no wonder she was mad at you!”

“She was just wanting Adrien for herself—“

Marinette leaned forward, pointing at Lila agitatedly and causing Lila to take a step back. “She called you out for lying about her and pretending to be a superhero! Which by the way, was not only stupid and rude but DANGEROUS!”

“I was fine until she showed up!” Lila hissed.

“You gave an interview on the Ladyblog claiming to be Ladybug’s best friend!” Marinette shouted, gesturing to the wider Paris to emphasize the point. “Did it not occur to you in the slightest how horribly dangerous that was? How BAD that could have gone? If any run of the mill criminal had believed it? If Hawk Moth believed it?”

“But he didn’t.”

“Because Ladybug called you out! Which was the reason you got akumatized in the first place so he knew! And yet all this time, you’ve been holding a grudge over it!” Marinette clenched her fists in fury. “Ladybug APOLOGIZED to you for it! TWICE! And even offered to actually be your friend and thus make ONE of your lies true! And you threw it away out of spite! You gave up a legitimate opportunity that would have worked to your benefit in favor of working with a supervillain because you can’t let go of a petty grudge!”

“I—”

“And for WHAT?” She demanded. “A bunch of lies that didn’t even matter to you!”

“How do you—“

“I mean, they clearly must not have been that important since you’ve been telling so many that you couldn’t even keep them straight! And you are willing to damn Paris and everyone in it just because ONE of them was revealed?! WHAT THE HECK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”

Lila remained silent, simply staring at Marinette angrily and ultimately answering the question for her. Marinette on her end growled in anger, raising her hands to emphasize the point and desperately wishing for something to wring.

“Are you even angry because Ladybug was rude in how she outted you? Or are you angry that she realized you were lying at all?“

Lila looked away almost petulantly, and that was answer enough even before she spoke.

“I was hurt!”

“You were stupid! You never needed to lie about anyone! It would have been less trouble for you if you hadn’t! None of this would have even been an issue if not for you starting it all in the first place! AND FOR WHAT?” Marinette questioned. “A free lunch and to get to sit next to a guy who you made uncomfortable enough that he chose to switch seats twice just to get away from you?”

Lila gasped and glared at Marinette in outrage. Her mouth opened to spit something that would no doubt be more vitriol.

“Whoa! Am I interrupting?”

Both girls spun in surprise to see Chat Noir landing on the ground a few feet away.

“Chat Noir! Thank goodness you’re here!” Lila cried as she rushed over to him, the picture of helpless and in distress.

Marinette wanted to gag.

“Of course!” Chat replied, amping up the charm. He smiled suavely as Lila proceeded to latch onto his arm. “No akuma can keep this cat away when there’s a damsel in need.”

“Oh, I am!” Lila exclaimed, sounding tearful. “This entire day has been terrible and now an akuma is after me!”

Chat gasped at that. “That’s horrible!”

What the hell, Chat? You KNOW it’s Lila! You KNOW what she’s like!

He looked from Lila to Marinette. “I should get you both out of here then before the akuma arrives.”

Marinette hesitated. While in most circumstances it would be best to stick together, she needed to find someplace hidden to transform. Especially now that she knew her partner was active.

But before she could speak, Lila squeezed Chat’s arm.

“Oh, but wouldn’t it be faster with less people?” Lila asked innocently. “You could just carry me to safety.”

Chat raised an eyebrow at that. “But there’s three of us. I can’t just leave Marinette here.”

But Lila wasn’t deterred. She made her eyes wide and fearful as she clutched Chat’s arm in apparent fear to the point Marinette wondered if it hadn’t gone numb from lack of circulation. “I’m the one the akuma is after. The mob won’t even bother with her.”

Chat Noir looked between the two girls, still uncertain.

To add to her argument, Lila leaned in closer to Chat to whisper to him. “And I’m scared. I think she may try to hand me over the mob. You saw the way she was yelling at me, didn’t you?”

He looked back to Marinette, uncertain. “I don’t know…”

…..

Marinette sighed.

Yeah, she pretty much knew that was coming.

As much as she hated siding with Lila, this could be the only opportunity she has. It helped her own plans, but still. Dammit Lila!

"Lila's right. You need to be quick. I'll be okay on my own."

The hero frowned, not entirely convinced but seeming to accept the answer.

As if noticing his hesitation, Lila pulled on his arm to get his attention. “We should hurry before anyone else shows up!”

Chat shook himself. “Yeah. You’re right. We’d better go.”

Marinette watched as Lila settled herself in Chat’s arms, naturally not missing the opportunity to shoot the pig-tailed girl a smirk that Marinette forced herself not to react to. Chat, meanwhile, kept his gaze on Marinette.

“Civilians are getting set up at the Eiffel Tower. You should head there, too.” He told her, giving her a wink.

“Take care!” She gave a weak smile in return and waved them off. Without much further ado, Chat carried Lila away. Marinette watched them go until they could no longer be seen. Until finally…

She was alone.

She was alone and feeling oh so drained from that whole encounter. Feeling shaky, she stepped towards a wall and leaned against it for support. Shoulders slumped, she let herself slide into a sitting position on the ground.

Marinette took a breath.

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

She shouldn’t have. She was just…so angry after everything.

Lila was bad enough as is, but this whole mess on top of her usual stress-inducing antics? And Marinette having to constantly go out of her way to help her despite everything she’s done and continues to try to do?

It was everything Marinette had been wanting to say.

But...that didn’t make it right.

Tikki appeared before her holder, looking sad.

“You only said the truth.”

“I was angry and being mean.” Marinette insisted. Because when an emotion-manipulating supervillain like Hawk Moth was around, she should KNOW better than to do things that could upset people! How is it she hasn’t learned yet?

“It’s healthy to vent.”

Marinette shook her head. “I should have reined in my temper. After all, letting my anger get the best of me was what started this mess with Lila in the first place.”

“No, that was on Lila for lying about you so much.” Tikki insisted. “She lied about being your friend to everyone. She lied about knowing who you were to Adrien. And then she turned around and tried to disparage you not even seconds later just to make herself look better. You had every right to be angry then, just as you had every right to feel angry now.”

She looked at the kwami. Somehow, that was helpful and not at the same time.

It was everything she wanted to hear…and yet…

Marinette sighed.

“Thanks, Tikki.”

She wished she could believe her.

But the real Tikki would never say that.

____________________

He felt the wind through his hair as he ran through the streets. Lila’s weight in his arms was heavy but manageable. Her grip around him was not exactly pleasant, though. And he really wanted to make for the rooftops and travel his usual way, but…well…circumstances didn’t really make that advisable.

“Thank you so much! You truly are a hero.” She gushed. She was certainly trying to play it up once they were alone.

“Lila lied about saving Jagged Stone’s kitten! She lied about having tinnitus!”

It took him a bit to figure out just what the akuma was doing. Her news didn’t surprise him, since he already knew those claims were fake. So he spent more time than he should have just looking at her in confusion and trying to work out what her power was for when he met up with Ladybug.

It was admittedly faster carrying Lila. And easier to manage than trying to handle two girls at once. He only would have been able to carry one to begin with, and it would have been difficult to try and guide them both while keeping an eye out for interlopers and make sure nothing happened to either of them before they made it to the destination. Really, it was the better choice to just let him carry Lila.

But part of him was disappointed. He’d still really wanted to try and take both girls with him. Marinette especially didn’t deserve to be left behind. But if she was the one telling him to go, there was little he could do about it.

“Lila threatened Marinette in the bathroom her first day back! She tried to bring Marinette under her thumb by threatening to ruin her friendships with everyone and to make sure she could never be around Adrien!”

He hadn’t known that. It made sense though, given that Lila had gone so far as to frame Marinette and get her expelled. He should have realized there had to have been an earlier altercation for her to actively target Marinette in such a way.

But if it had been that first day Lila came back? That same day Adrien had told Marinette not to reveal her lies?

That…hurt, actually. Why hadn’t Marinette told him about it? He’d just thought Lila was wanting attention or make herself seem special. He wouldn’t have told her to just let Lila lie if he’d known she was doing things like that!

“Of course.” He reassured her as he kept his eyes on his surroundings. It wouldn’t do to be caught too soon after all.

He also kept his awareness on Lila. Couldn’t put it past her to try something, either. But the girl seemed more interested in chattering, spinning some new tale, he was sure.

“Lila has been working with Hawk Moth and trying to help him take down Ladybug and Chat Noir!”

It was the multitude of gasps resounding in the area that clued him in to what the akuma was doing. He watched in dawning realization as the expressions of those around him shifted from fear to shock and then to pure outrage.

Almost immediately, mutterings began. Followed shortly by shouts.

“That witch!”

“She needs to burn!”

“Burn the witch!” The call started, and soon was echoed throughout the area.

It hit him then.

The akuma was making people mad. She was intentionally trying to provoke people and upset them through use of a list of Lila’s crimes. And once they were outraged by one of them, they became part of the akuma’s thralls.

This…wasn’t good.

He had to get out of here!

“Where are we going?” Lila asked, drawing him out of his thoughts.

“Don’t worry!” He told her with a charming smile. “I’m taking you where you need to be.”

She nodded and seemed to curl in closer to him. Almost snuggling. “What a relief. I knew you could be counted on.”

“I do try.”

“You certainly deserve more than to be considered Ladybug’s sidekick.”

“Hmm?”

He barely paid her words any mind, instead focusing on continuing to the destination.

“Lila was the one who stole Adrien’s book in order to pass herself off as a hero to get his attention!”

“Dude!” He heard Nino cry out. “That almost got him taken out of school!”

He started at that.

Lila had?

He had thought he lost it, but it was really Lila who stole it?

No, it made sense. She brought up heroes after seeing him looking through it. She had presented the same pendant from the book and claimed to be the ‘Fox Heroine Volpina’. And when he tried to look for the book to confirm, she stopped him.

But…how did his father get the book back then? Had Lila returned it? Knowing her, WOULD she have?

No. Lila hadn’t met his father until that day Kagami was akumatized. That meant whatever she did with the book, she wasn’t the one to bring it back. Not that he would have expected her to, knowing her. That w—

NO. FOCUS.

“—and of course it’s such a shame that she doesn’t appreciate all you do for her.” Lila continued.

“Of course Ladybug appreciates me. She’s told me I’m irreplaceable.”

Lila pouted. “But she doesn’t tell you everything, does she? She doesn’t respect you. How many secrets is she keeping from you?”

He frowned, but didn’t say anything.

Adrien sprinted towards the door.

“Lila intentionally took the akuma to become Chameleon and pretended to be Adrien to insult his friends, hurt Nino’s feelings, and steal his hat!”

He stumbled.

She did WHAT?!

No wonder Nino hadn’t been able to meet his eyes when he got back!

He felt the anger over the injustice. He should have said something that day. At least let Nino know what Lila was really like. Something!

It was getting too much. He could feel the pressure and anger build. It would have been so sweet to give into it and let it out and just make her PAY—

Adrien fumbled with the door to the outside, desperate to get away and out of earshot before he heard anything else.

He wasn’t sure he would be able to take it.

“She puts you down, you know.” Lila continued. “I’ve heard her talking badly about you.”

“Really?”

She nodded, appearing sad. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to have to be the one to tell you, but it’s only because I care. I just…” She pretended to wipe away a tear from her clearly dry eyes. “I just admire you so much and you deserve better than someone who keeps you at arm’s length.”

She smiled up at him, resting an arm on his bicep.

“If you ever need someone to turn to, I want you to know that you can trust me. I would support you in anything.”

And Chat…

Smiled back at her.

“Thank you, Lila. I’m glad to know I have your support.”

He made it outside and moved to close the door just as the final words rang out.

“Lila broke into the Agreste mansion to try to get an in with Gabriel and is serving as his spy in the school in an attempt to control Adrien!”

The door shut with a final thud.

Adrien stood there, hands on the door. Silent. Unmoving.

“Kid?” Plagg asked, poking his head out.

…

“I know that was rough, but you did well to keep your head.”

…

“Adrien, shouldn’t we be trying to find liar-girl and get her someplace safe?”

…

He paused, realizing there was no response.

“Adrien?”

…

Adrien turned away from the door and smiled, not really looking at his kwami.

“You’re right, Plagg. We should find Lila.”

Plagg froze.

Over the years and centuries working with various holders for a multitude of purposes, Plagg had gotten well versed in recognizing expressions. Faces said a lot, after all. And he could usually get a good reading off someone from their expressions.

Adrien’s expression in that moment? He’d seen it before.

It was that same murderous look in the eyes of every other Black Cat user he’d had when they had been pushed too far and were ready and willing to kill someone.

“Wait! Kid, hold on!”

“Plagg.”

“Adrien, think about it! You don’t want to do this!”

“Claws out.”

Lila finally seemed to take note of their surroundings. There had been no one in the streets for a while now, and the area around them had been strangely silent due to the lack of people. While she hadn’t known where exactly they were going, Chat seemed to be taking her in the direction of the Eiffel Tower. The closer they got, though, the more she could hear something in the distance.

And sure enough, as the Tower came into sight, Lila could see a rather dense crowd up ahead. Chat didn’t even react as she clutched at his arm, growing more uneasy the closer they got to the Eiffel Tower and the growing crowd.

“Chat Noir?” She drew out his name, uncertain and wary. “What’s going on?”

“I told you, didn’t I?” Chat replied with a smile that did not at all fit the ever growing atmosphere.

“I’m taking you where you need to be.”

He came to a stop at the square, keeping a firm grip on Lila so she couldn’t draw away. The crowd around them noticed their presence and parted, forming a path that led closer to the tower. And at the end stood a stack of wood and a very familiar figure.

Lila gasped.

“Hello, Lila!” Witch Hunter greeted her with an all too wide smile.

“We’re so happy you made it!”

#ml fic #witch hunter #marinette dupain cheng #tikki #lila sucks #chat noir #rose lavillant #oh no #Oh crap

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clean-bands-dirty-stories · 4 years

Text

Let’s Play ~ K.O. (part 1)

A/n: So @httpnxtt mentioned Kyle and a gun kink and I kind of made it my own because she’s nice and let me lol. Big thanks to @sunlight-moonrise and @gretaamyk for beta reading!. Also huge thanks to @april-14-blog for the encouragement to actually write this! Without all of these people, this fic wouldn’t have happened, and even if no one else reads it but them and myself, I’m glad I got it written and published :)

Warnings: violence, death (not any major characters), smut (male on male): fingering, oral, hand jobs, gun play kink, penetration.

Word Count: 5700+

MASTERLIST

Hands were a hard thing to fight off a super strong creature of death with, but it was either that or Y/n was eaten alive, so there wasn't much of an option.

He'd been doing great with his gun until he'd been tackled from behind. His gun had flown off somewhere- he was just lucky that he'd been able to squirm around so he could fight back at all. He thought if he killed enough time then he might be able to get to his gun, but he couldn't even look away without risking those dirty, rotting teeth sinking into his throat and ripping his vocal chords out. Not a great ending to this story if he was being honest. Not the road he wanted to go down.

A gun show went off and Y/n flinched, eyes wide. But he felt no pain and after only a second's pause, the thing above him that used to be the mailman went limp. He shoved it off of him, rolling to his feet. He stared at the creature, waiting for it to move. But then he saw the bullet wound and the blood coming from the side of its head and he relaxed, standing to his feet fully and searching out his rescuer.

There, only a few feet away actually, was a tall man with brown hair and matching eyes. Y/n's gun was in his hands. Hands that were shaking now. His dark eyes had widened in a look of panic Y/n was getting used to. The two men looked at each other for a long moment. "I killed him," the brunette finally whispered.

"Yes," Y/n confirmed. He put his hands up to show he meant no harm and began to come closer and closer. His goal was half to calm the man down and half to get his gun back. The worst thing that could happen is the man would panic and shoot him, and Y/n couldn't take chances with a bullet wound.

The man took a deep breath and finally lowered the gun from where he'd had it pointed to shoot the now-dead thing that had been trying to kill Y/n. "I did a good thing." It was a struggle for him it seemed. He was trying to convince himself.

Well, that one was easy for Y/n. He was a man of truth, but he didn't even have to tiptoe around this one. "A very good thing," he agreed earnestly. "You saved my life." He began to extend his hands toward the other man's, reaching for his gun just as slowly as he'd approached. "Can I have my gun back please?"

A small nod signaled the man's release of the object, and he even dropped the hand that was attached to the arm furthest from Y/n so he could stretch it out to him. "Here, sorry."

Taking it, Y/n relaxed. He felt safer with a way to defend himself if the need arose. "No need to be sorry. Like I said, you saved my life." It was then the man looked at Y/n, tearing his eyes away from the body he was still staring at. When they looked at each other now, Y/n swore that his heart died in his chest.

Perhaps this was the single worst time to notice this, but Y/n couldn't help it as his gaze took in every inch of the man. He was incredibly attractive, simply put. Even with death all around them, who could simply not see such a pretty face? Y/n was a simple man, and the person that had just saved his life was hot.

He looked away, putting his gun at the back of his belt and clearing his throat. As much as admiring was no sin, getting distracted was. He had to think with the right head- there were more important things. But holy shit if there hadn't been... Y/n might have had to ask this guy on a date.

"Well, thanks." Y/n spoke the words to get out of his head. "Officially." He hesitated as the man nodded. "What's your name?"

"Kyle." His voice was suddenly hoarse and it made him even sexier. Goddamnit!

"Nice to meet you, Kyle." Y/n noticed the look the man was giving him and realized he was waiting for a return in names. "I'm Y/n."

Kyle nodded again. Then he pulled a shiny silver gun out of the holster at his side Y/n was just noticing. His lips must have been really distracting for him to just not pick up on the fact that Kyle was armed... They actually had been that distracting. They made Y/n wonder if Kyle was a good kisser.

FOCUS!

"I'm part of the resistance." His grin made him look like a total dork. It was adorable, and Y/n fought not to smile at it. "We have serious firepower, and we're clearing blocks to make sure everyone at the base is safe. Want to join us?"

It was Y/n's turn to nod. "I'd definitely like some purpose in this mass chaos. Where are you headed to next?"

Kyle grinned. "Think you can keep up?"

Y/n cocked an eyebrow. "Do you think YOU can keep up? You look a little too pretty to actually know how to wield that thing."

Y/n's complement seemed to boost Kyle's confidence. "I knew it well enough to shoot that zombie without hitting you."

A soft chuckle resounded through Y/n's chest. "You have me there. Lead the way, Hot Shot."

The pun made Kyle snort. Shaking his head, he turned to look out instead of at Y/n. "Keep up." As he moved forward, Y/n couldn't help but check out the view from the back. "And Keep your eyes on the zombies," Kyle added sharply, though he didn't seem to be shutting Y/n down as much as he was making sure his back was being watched.

"Yes sir," Y/n joked. Kyle didn't respond to that.

Probably because he was distracted by another zombie ducking into sight and turned its hungry eyes on the pair of men. Thankfully, he really was a great shot and he totally nailed the thing. He lowered his gun, smirking as he looked back at Y/n. "I'm already two ahead of you. You sure you can keep up?"

Y/n raised his eyebrows. "Oh, that's how you want to play huh?" Kyle shrugged and Y/n rolled his eyes, searching for his next target. As Kyle went to say something snarky, Y/n found the next dead body. He took aim and shot it stiff before Kyle could even voice his snarky shot. "Careful Kyle. You've unleashed the beast."

Kyle scoffed. "Okay, Mr. Sexy and Smooth. If we're making this competition, what does the winner get?" He shot another zombie, making Y/n jump. "Other than staying alive, I suppose?"

A soft sigh through pursed lips, as Y/n tried to decide. "What do you want?"

Kyle's eyes suddenly ran down Y/n's body and the man shivered under such a look. Before he could respond though there was a scream and both men were rushing to see what had caused it.

There was a small girl pinning a slightly older boy. The boy had a bar in her mouth and that was why he was faring better than Y/n had been earlier. Her nails were digging into his arms though as if she was about to tear his flesh off by hand if she had to. Y/n had to remind himself of two things. First of all, that wasn't a girl anymore. Second, it absolutely would rip his flesh off his bones with its hands if it felt it had to. He went to aim when Kyle helped next to him.

It seemed that between the gunshots and the boy screaming, the noise had drawn a crowd. There were four zombies heading for Y/n and another rolling around with Kyle who was trying to both keep hold of his gun and also get it to the thing's head so he could shoot it. Y/n forced himself to not panic and instead prioritize. He had to keep himself safe first. The boy and Kyle would be much worse off without Y/n there to offer an extra pair of hands wielding a gun.

He took out two before he heard the crunching of the pipe and the gargling of the thing ripping whatever must remain from the boy, going for him again. He'd run out of time, but thankfully before he could switch his attention there was a shot that he found out meant Kyle had taken down his attacker when Y/n looked over to check in on the other man. Kyle got to his knees and turned the barrel of his weapon to the girl, pulling the trigger without hesitation. She fell and the boy collapsed in relief, her fingers falling out of his mouth just as she was attempting to rip his jaw open.

Y/n turned back his attention to the two zombies headed to him to see there were now six.

"Get up!" Kyle yelled at the boy. The kid responded thank god, scrambling between the two armed men who moved to surround Gina s best they could with just two of them. With him between them, they both looked around at the sudden crowd that had come to play. "I have four in front of me and three more to the left." Y/n looked and realized they had less a crowd and more a mob. This wasn't going to go well if they didn't hurry.

"Perfect opportunity to raise those numbers," Y/n mumbled with ease, like he was talking about the cloudy sky or what was on TV. As if this was normal. Kyle chuckled and they both aimed, counting out loud as they took out one zombie after another.

When the street was finally cleared, the silence was deafening. Kyle moves closer to Y/n, the boy having even less room to move around now. "We need to get out of here, in case more show up. At least from the middle of the road. If we just stand here they might overwhelm us, but if we hide and wait for them to come along then-"

"Sounds great and all," Y/n interrupted. Kyle jerked as he was cut off. "But I doubt either of us have many more bullets, and we have a child to get back to safety if you recall."

Kyle hesitated, jaw working as he looked between the kid and the street. Finally, he sighed, shoulders dropping. "Fine. Lead the way."

Y/n felt himself smile at how cute Kyle looked when he was all down trodden like that. It didn't distract him from keeping them all safe and well guided as they made their way back to 'base' as Kyle called it, it did keep him motivated. They returned with only one more dropped body. "What's your name?" Y/n asked as the trio got settled so the two men could stock up on supplies.

"Tyler," the kid responded.

"Tyler," Y/n greeted. "This is Kyle and I'm Y/n. It's safe here. We're part of a group of people who are going to keep clearing the streets so nothing will get to you guys okay?" Tyler nodded.

Just then, one of the much older adults came into the room. "I think we're actually going to call it a night fellas. The sun is going down and that messes with vision. Makes it much easier for them to take us over. They don't have to worry about getting hurt."

"Yes sir," Y/n said in more of a joking way. His words seemed to excite Kyle though, who was getting way too into the spy day dream he was working with. It made Y/n chortle a bit.

When the older man and the boy left the pair of young adults alone, Kyle sidled up to Y/n. "How many did you get? I got fifteen." He said the number with pride and confidence. Y/n already knew this. He had stopped counting out loud, but Kyle hadn't. Too bad his surety that Y/n couldn't beat him was about to be torn down.

"Eighteen."

Kyle deflated even more and, as if stealing that air, Y/n puffed up in pride. Kyle hesitated though before slowly realizing, "What's... your prize?" He seemed half eager and half trepid. It fueled Y/n for some reason, having enough power to make a man like Kyle some levels of both nervous and excited.

Y/n hummed, moving closer very slowly. He moved behind Kyle, Y/n's breath falling on the other man's neck. Kyle shivered. Now on the other side of Kyle, Y/n leaned over and pressed his lips quickly to Kyle's cheek. "I think that's all I'll claim for now." Then he turned away and began to leave. He heard the shuddering breath of a frustrated man behind him but he didn't give Kyle the satisfaction of him looking back to see exactly what state he was in. Even though he was rather curious... for now, he was having too much fun messing with the poor man.

Kyle, on the other hand, was NOT having fun. Not at all.

Y/n and Kyle went on six runs together over the next three days. They slept at night and then sometimes had to get people back to safety, or stock back up on ammo or food, which brought them back temporarily. Every time they headed back to base, they told the other their tallies and every single time Y/n had won. Kyle has even made them begin to count out loud to prove that Y/n wasn't making a number up. He'd had Y/n say his number before him so Y/n couldn't just say some number above what Kyle said. No matter what he did or how hard he tried, Y/n was better at this than him.

It seemed a bit of a reprieve for him when Y/n tripped one day, twisting his ankle. Unfortunately, it had almost gotten him killed. Focused on the zombies approaching him, Y/n hadn’t watched where he was going and had tripped over a stone that had looked smaller in his peripheral vision. When he’d fallen, he’d dropped his gun and the scramble that he’d gone through to get it back had almost cost too much time. He’d had two zombies on top of him and had by luck alone managed to wiggle into a position to shoot both of them as their faces eagerly lowered to begin to take him chunks at a time. He’d stopped one of them with its teeth in his shoulder. THAT was how close it had been.

Now it was over though, and they were headed back. Kyle seemed irritated though.

"At least now you'll get a few days of practice," Y/n attempted to joke as they traveled as quickly as possible before they'd find themselves in a situation that required them to stop and face down any zombies that might head their way. Thus far a few had been pulled down just by Y/n nabbing them as they passed, but if they got any closer than the two men couldn't chance Y/n missing one, and Kyle helping meant he had to have his hands free, which meant he couldn't help Y/n walk which means they'd basically he stuck in place unless Y/n started crawling. And that would be an even worse plan, because Kyle might trip over Y/n if he couldn't see him. He had to keep his eyes on the zombies, he needed to know where Y/n was so his worry didn't distract him from taking threats out.

Thankfully they hadn't gotten to that point yet.

When the house came into sight, both men relaxed. Kyle helped Y/n inside and to a couch where they both collapsed, tired from the journey. "Nice job out there," Y/n gasped around his heavy breathing.

Kyle chuckled. "Don't patronize me. I know you got way more than me today because I dragged you here."

Y/n rolled his eyes. “You know Kyle, I’m not ALWAYS an ass. You probably saved my life today, and even if not you definitely put yours at risk to make mine easier.” He reached out, placing his hand on top of Kyle’s. “Thank you.”

That only seemed to irritate Kyle more, though that was apparent more from the man’s facial expression, as he didn’t move his hand from Y/n’s. “Can’t you just be a little less-” He cut off, shaking his head and standing to storm away, leaving Y/n wondering what he’d done wrong.

The next week passed a lot like that as Y/n stayed home and healed and helped take care of other people as well. He probably could have gone out sooner if he was pushing it, but he didn’t want to take any chances in case his ankle went weak as he put it through too much and Kyle had to drag him back to the house. That was the reason Y/n had decided Kyle was pissed at him for. The day had been cut short when Y/n had been careless and gotten hurt. It was then that he suddenly got so irritable, and he hadn’t been the same since. It made sense that he would be irritated at getting distracted from the work he was so dedicated to, and then that Y/n didn’t seem to care as much as he did about getting back to it once Y/n was well enough to go back.

The day Y/n did go out, Kyle seemed to be really tense. “You okay?” Y/n asked quietly.

“Shut up,” Kyle snapped. Y/n shrunk in on himself, not sure why Kyle was so pissed. The man seemed to notice and sighed, pausing in their stroll forward. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped. I just need to stay focused and you’re very distracting.” He began walking again, Y/n scrambling to keep up around his confusion.

Wait what? “Distracting?” Y/n asked gently, unsure. They’d been flirty since the first second they’d met. Sure the sexual tension was obvious but that had never seemed to bother Kyle before. Or did he mean that he was bothered by Y/n’s presence? Or that he was worried Y/n would drag him back again? Y/n wasn’t sure if him being a distraction was a good thing or not, and his brain was beginning to spiral with worry.

Kyle huffed.”I swear to god Y/n if you don’t stop, I’ll make you regret it.”

At that Y/n stopped dead. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Orfman?”

For whatever reason, that was what made Kyle break. The taller man spun around, eyes blazing. He looked at Y/n first then around them. There wasn’t even a sign of a zombie in sight. He gripped Y/n’s arm, pulling him roughly toward one of the houses. Y/n wasn’t afraid of Kyle per say, but he was curious enough to go along. His curiosity also held him from saying anything else, in case any questions made him stop.

Kyle led Y/n to the main bedroom and let him go, racing out of the room. Y/n guessed that it was to check to see if the place was empty, because when Kyle returned he didn’t have anything new. He did, however, have his gun drawn. “Kneel down.”

“Wha-?” Y/n began, stepping forward.

“Do it.” Kyle’s voice was hard. It was a command that demanded not to be questioned. Y/n gulped silently, finding himself very eager to obey. It was something he’d never experienced and it took him so off guard that he just did it. “Shirt off,” Kyle ordered next. Y/n’s eyes widened, finally realizing what was about to happen. As he did so, Kyle paused, allowing room for Y/n to stop this. As frustrated as he was, he wasn’t about to do anything Y/n didn’t want him to.

Far too eagerly, Y/n ripped his shirt off. He tossed it to the floor, still on his knees. His eyes followed Kyle dutifully. For all his flirting and big talk, it seemed that in this moment Kyle had unearthed a desperation that Y/n couldn’t contain anymore. He didn’t just want this, he NEEDED it, and if he had to do whatever he was told to get it then that’s what he was going to do.

Kyle smiled to himself, appreciating it. He just stood there and took Y/n in, making the man on the floor feel self conscious. “Do you want me to do anything else?” He asked softly.

A smirk rose to Kyle’s face. “So eager to be bossed around, huh?” Y/n nodded and Kyle seemed to relax, falling into this role like it was made for him. He came closer to Y/n, his hands winding in Y/n’s hair and tugging to Y/n looked up at him. The gun in his other hand moved underneath Y/n’s chin, the end of the barrel grazing his throat. Y/n jerked in surprise. Kyle smirked wider. “Y/n, do you trust me?”

He didn’t even have to think about it. “Yes.”

That was exactly what Kyle needed to hear. “Have you ever been with a man before?”

“Yes,” Y/n answered quickly, wanting to please. “Have you?”

Kyle shook his head. “I haven’t, actually. Is it that different?” When he paused, Y/n shrugged. “Use your words,” Kyle cooed.

“Yeah, for the most part. And more than just the obvious as well. Men go harder, but women go louder which makes a difference for some reason. Men tend to be quiet during sex.”

Nodding, Kyle stayed quiet a few seconds, as if considering the information. “Do you think either one is better?” Y/n shook his head no. “Just different then, huh?” Y/n nodded. “Well,” Kyle purred, nudging the gun to keep Y/n’s chin up as he let go of Y/n’s hair. “Show me the difference, Y/n.” He pointed to his pants and the man on his knees was fast to change his focus from Kyle’s face. His hands worked to undo the pants and pull them down, revealing the bulge underneath the black boxers. Y/n made a soft sound that made Kyle jerk forward. “Don’t waste time,” Kyle barked. “We don’t have all day.” With that, Y/n pulled Kyle’s boxers down as well, allowing his member to spring free. The sight made Y/n lick his lips, looking up at the other man with a question he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to ask. “What?” Kyle prompted, obviously irritated again.

“Do you want me to get it all in? Or can I use my hands too?”

Kyle blushed and Y/n felt his fingers begin to fidget. “Do what you think is necessary.” His voice had dropped and the sound went through Y/n in waves. It was the last thing either of them said before Y/n wrapped his fingers around the base of Kyle’s cock to stabilize it before he wrapped his lips around the tip. He hollowed his cheeks to create better suction as he bobbed his head, making Kyle groan, his head falling back and eyes closing. After a second, Y/n removed his mouth to pump the length with his hands. His fingers slid along the dent just under the head where he knew would be most sensitive. Kyle grabbed his hands to stop him. “I- I need to sit down-” He moved out of Y/n’s reach, sitting on the bed. “Come here.” His eyes were lust blown and Y/n swallowed, crawling over quickly. He didn’t need Kyle to tell him to start again, he just took action. After a few more pumps, Y/n placed his lips on Kyle once more, listening and stealing glances as well as he could without losing focus on what he was doing. He wanted to make sure what he was doing worked, and if it worked he didn’t want to stop doing it. Just when the brunette man seemed to begin to come unwound, he reached forward and grabbed hold of Y/n’s hair again. “Stop,” he growled. Y/n did, pulling his mouth off with a satisfying popping sound that made Kyle shiver. He lifted the hand that still held the gun. “Do you still trust me?”

“I trust you,” Y/n confirmed earnestly, eyes wide and sincere.

Kyle stroked Y/n’s jaw. “Such a good boy.” He leaned forward, pointing the barrel at Y/n’s lips. “Open.” Y/n did, and Kyle fit the thing inside his mouth. Y/n felt his pulse spike. He meant what he said when he’d said he trusted Kyle, but his fight or flight instincts were still responding and it was a little nerve wracking, making it hard to stay still. “Show me,” Kyle demanded softly, his face inches from the side of Y/n’s face. “Show me what you do to make me feel that good. I want to learn so I can duplicate it, but if you do it on me I’m gonna be distracted.”

Y/n steeled himself before beginning to work his mouth around the gun barrel as he did with Kyle. The brunette man suddenly shoved it deeper into Y/n’s mouth, making him gag. Kyle smiled and Y/n blinked the beginning of tears out of his eyes as they threatened to block him from the view. Kyle was obviously getting off on this. The thought was confirmed when Kyle began to stroke himself with his free hand. He watched Y/n, first licking then biting his lip as he touched himself. “God where did you learn to do this?” Y/n paused and he sneered, “Don’t stop. Just because I ask a question doesn’t mean I want you to answer it.” It was a dangerous order. What happened when Kyle DID want him to answer it and he didn’t? Y/n was kind of excited to learn.

Finally Kyle pulled the gun out of Y/n’s mouth. He hummed as Y/n whimpered. “Please,” Y/n begged. “Touch me. Something. Please.”

“So desperate,” Kyle whispered, his breath falling on Y/n’s face. Y/n nodded, scooting closer. His knees were beginning to hurt but he didn’t dare complain. Kyle stood, pointing the gun at Y/n’s forehead. “Stand the fuck up.” Y/n scrambled to his feet. Only now did he realize that Kyle was taller than him. Before it hadn’t been super obvious but now it was clear as day, with how close they were. His thoughts were ripped away from that as Kyle shoved him against the wall aggressively, nestling the gun under his chin. “What do you want?”

“Anything,” Y/n begged, closing his eyes as his head fell against the wood behind him.

Kyle hummed, considering. “Seem to be wearing a lot of clothes for someone who wants me to touch him.” He was grinning when Y/n shot him a complainant look. “Ah yes, what a good boy. Take them off then.” Immediately Y/n was naked, just in time for Kyle to follow as he slid his own shirt off. Kyle returned the gun to Y/n’s throat, but this time moved it to the right. On the left side of Y/n’s neck, Kyle pressed his lips to the Y/n’s skin. First it was soft kisses until he began to sink his teeth into the flesh just enough to make Y/n suck in a breath, but not enough to leave a mark. He did begin to suck though, running his teeth along the skin to ensure there would be a huge, dark purple mark left behind. Y/n released a breath, but his body remained coiled with tension. “Beg me to fuck you,” Kyle mumbled.

“Please,” Y/n immediately hissed, his body shaking with need. His own member brushed against Kyle’s hand and Y/n flinched. “GOD please, Kyle. Please. Tell what I have to do, I swear I’ll do it.”

“I know baby,” Kyle responded evenly, a satisfied smirk on his face. He reached his hand to Y/n’s shoulder, yanking the man around so he was facing the wall. He then moved very close. Close enough that Y/n could feel Kyle’s breath on his neck and his cock against his hip. “Is this what you want?” He let that same free hand up and down Y/n’s length, relishing the way Y/n wobbled between leaning against the wall and Kyle to keep him standing. “Is it? If not, I can stop.”

“God no,” Y/n groaned, his lips parting in an ‘o’ shape. Finally he let his head drop onto Kyle’s shoulder, used to the feeling of the gun barrel making a path from his neck to his stomach. All his focus was on what Kyle’s other hand was doing. “It feels so good, please don’t stop.”

Kyle sighed, long and breathy. “Turn around.” He leaned just far enough away to allow Y/n to obey and Y/n did obey, just as he had all night. Eagerly and without hesitation. When they were face to face, Kyle tossed the gun behind him on the bed, hooking both hands around Y/n’s waist to make sure the man followed him as he began to move to the bed. “Lay down.” When Y/n did, Kyle crawled over him. “Are you going to keep being a good boy?” Y/n nodded. “Good.” His hands were both now free, but the gun was within grabbing distance so Y/n didn’t write it off yet. It’s just that Kyle needed to keep himself propped up as he touched Y/n, and he only had two hands. The first thing Kyle did was stick two fingers in Y/n’s mouth. Y/n sucked on them, making Kyle smile. But he seemed to have a goal in mind as just when Y/n was getting into it, Kyle slid his fingers out, trailing them down his neck to his chest and beyond. His hands drew shapes lower and lower until he dropped past Y/n’s still eager length to push a finger slowly into the man. “How’s this?”

“Not bad,” Y/n responded through heavy breaths, his body tense.

That continued until Y/n relaxed, Kyle giving the man plenty of time to adjust as he slowly stretched out. Then he slipped another finger in, repeating the process and being just as patient every time to make sure Y/n was ready. “God you’re so pretty.” Y/n hadn’t expected that, his body rolling further into Kyle’s hand. He’d been called a lot of things, but never pretty. There was something sweet about the compliment that made it almost intimate. This wasn’t about sex, him saying that. Kyle was just attracted to Y/n on a base level, and that was all. The way it sent shivers all over Y/n’s body made Kyle’s eyes widen in appreciation. “Okay,” he said finally. “I’m going to fuck you now, okay?”

“Please hurry,” Y/n grunted. He wanted his own release so badly at this point he didn’t give a fuck how he got it.

Kyle chuckled, but responded kindly, rather than being as cruel as someone else might have been about how Y/n technically ordered him even though Kyle was in charge right now. Moving his body to line himself with Y/n’s waiting body, Kyle hesitated only a second before pushing in. Y/n hissed a breath in and Kyle moved slowly. Very slowly, allowing Y/n once again all the time he needed. The pain turned to pleasure as it always di, and soon Y/n’s squeaks turned to soft breathing. With him comfortable with Kyle moving, the brunette focused on pleasuring himself. Or, that’s what Y/n thought at first.

As Kyle continued to fuck Y/n, he wrapped a hand around Y/n’s waiting cock, stroking him in time with the thrusts.

Neither man were going to last long.

When they finally did release, Y/n was both filled with Kyle’s cum as well as covered in his own. It made Kyle smile. When they were both done, Kyle pulled out and got to his feet shakily, leaving the room for a few moments only to return with a towel. “I didn’t want to leave you like…” He motioned to Y/n’s wet stomach. Y/n noticed the sudden shyness of the man; the softness to his words, and the way he wouldn’t look at Y/n. The gentleness with which he cleaned the mess, as if he wished Y/n to be unaware of his touch at all.

And also the speed at which he redressed once the job was done, towel discarded in the corner. Kyle retrieved his gun then cleaned it off as well from the spit that was beginning to dry on it and smudge the clean silver shine. Y/n sat up as Kyle began to move to the door. The man winced and Kyle’s expression tightened. “Are you leaving?” His voice was hoarse, making Kyle’s knuckles turn white as he gripped his gun again, as if it was a safety blanket.

Kyle hesitated. “I don’t think we should work together anymore.”

“Was I bad? Did I do something wrong?” Y/n asked as he moved to his feet, nearly tripping over himself as he pulled his own boxers and pants back on. His knees wobbled but he managed to pull it off.

Obviously trying not to smile as he watched only when he thought Y/n didn’t notice him doing so, Kyle cleared his throat. “No.” It was quiet, strained. “But this can’t happen again.”

Y/n stood, still shirtless. “Kyle-”

“I’ll see you back at the base, Y/n.” And with that he was gone, leaving Y/n confused and alone in the room that still smelled like sex.

What had gone wrong?

Male Reader Tag: @sheepfather

#kyle orfman #matthew gray gubler #life after beth #male reader #kyle orfman x reader #kyle orfman imagine #matthew gray gubler imagine #matthew gray gubler x reader #life after beth imagine

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iamnotsensical · 4 years

Text

You Should Have Seen That Coming

@innocentbi-stander sent: “I saw your witcher writing prompt post! If you’re interested, I’m a total sucker for a BAMf jaskier who actually does know how to fight with weapons but his it from geralt, then the truth comes out. Hmmmmm maybe there’s something where he’s also actually part elf or fae? I’m always looking for an excuse for an immortal jaskier 😂Maybe his fighting skills get revealed when they’re being attacked? I love jaskier who can fight with daggers or a short sword.”

I may have gone a little longer on this one than usual, but I really loved the concept! (I hope you enjoy it! <3)

(Edit: I learned how to add a cut. So I did. Whoot!)

Geralt should have known. The moment he came into this town. Those looks. Looks that were usually only directed at him. Looks that extended this time even to Jaskier. Who stood closer to Geralt than usual.

He should have known when the contract extended was easy. Ridiculously so. A single harpy? Jaskier was suspicious. He didn’t trust a town so full of hate and judgement to be willing to employ Geralt for something so seemingly easy to deal with. Though he was biased. His night of playing was rough and he didn't trust shitty patrons with shifty eyes.

Regardless, Geralt went out, dealt with the problem at hand and then headed back to the tavern beneath the inn where they were staying. To clean up before going to the man who employed him. When Geralt returned, he found Jaskier in the tavern and stopped to let him know the plan. To ask him to start packing. They were interrupted by the barmaid, an angry old woman with a look of disgust. "Your employer is waiting for you. In the town square. Go collect your coin so you can be on your way."

"We are talking.” Jaskier said cooly, “He’s helped your town. You won't even let him stop to clean up and eat-" Jaskier starts. He knew Geralt needed time to let the adrenaline wear off, knew the less than pleasant response to collecting payment while still covered in blood.

However, Geralt shook his head at Jaskier and regarded the woman carefully. He nodded his understanding and turned to Jaksier, promising that he'll return. Then he is on his way.

He really should have known when he saw the man, standing in the middle of the town with an odd ring of metal poles slammed into the ground around him. They stand up in a circle, stabbed into the ground like those spears knights push into the earth, and then skewer the heads of the monsters they’ve slain on to. The spears and heads always stand as a warning.

Geralt really should have known.

But he was tired and this town made him uncomfortable. He and Jaskier both wanted to leave. So, he walked up to the man and explained in short detail how he dispatched the 'scary flying thing' he had been sent to kill. Even brought its wings back. If it hadn't been so vicious he may have spared it, but somethings were simply incapable of not killing.

The man's eyes shifted around as Geralt spoke, making it even harder to focus. Geralt huffed and wrapped his arms over his chest. "I did as the contract expected, I'll take my payment-" he started only to stutter and choke as a loud sound resonated in his head. Geralt's hand flew up, pressing against his temple as though that would alleviate some of the pressure from the noise. It only got louder. Geralt tore his eyes from the man to look around and see a group of villagers surrounding them. They stood around the circle, clashing various tools and things against the metal poles in the ground. Metal on metal, an echoing clang that had Geralt falling to one knee.

The man looked down at Geralt with a sneer. "You're not the first we've gotten rid of.” He spat. Quite literally, and Geralt wanted to scrub the dampness from his skin. These people . . . They, what? Set traps for witchers? “You won't be the last.” The man continued. “You abominations are brought here only by your own greed. In search of money to take from innocent humans. You're disgusting! And so is your friend- I'd be willing to bet that we don't even need the pipes to distract him, without you there I think he'll be taken care of quite easily-"

Geralt growled viciously but the noise of the poles served well in its purpose to incapacitate him. He could do no more than to focus his efforts on fighting the nausea rather than this bigot.

He was trying to figure out the easiest way to get out of here, with the least amount of death. And then, from seemingly nowhere a voice called out, "You know. Of all the ways I've been called easy that one is the laziest, most hateful, and least true." Geralt looked up to see Jaskier walking into the circle.

The clanging slowly stopped as the mob seemed to fall into an incredulous silence watching Jaskier. They looked to the man for some sort of instruction.

Jaskier kept his eyes trained on the man as well, despite the urge to look at and take care of Geralt. "Come on now. Let us be reasonable. I shall take my companion from this town, free of charge despite his work. Call off your goons, and we'll be on our way."

"You,” the man sneered, “Are just as perverted as he is if you defend him over your own kind," the man retorted.

Jaskier laughed, "You are wrong in more ways than you could possibly know." He said.

And then many things happened.

The clanging started again as the mob of angry people decided they’d had enough of Jaskier’s smart commentary, deciding without the man in charge that they wouldn’t stand for such disrespect.

Geralt shifted on his knee to face Jaskier and tell him to leave, to get out of this town and wait for him somewhere else. Much to his surprise at that exact moment, Jaskier pulled a knife from seemingly nowhere. He flipped it in his hand with a practiced ease and then turned and flicked his wrist. It soared through the air and landed directly in the skull of a man who’d been trying to catch Jaskier off guard. He slowly sank to one knee, sputtering in his last moments.

In fury, a man nearly as large as Geralt charged towards Jaskier, roaring in his anger as his companion fell. Jaskier used the position to lunge forward, step on the man's propped up leg, and use it to jump off of. It provided him the perfect height to plunge another knife into the tall man’s eye. Geralt’s head was still pounding, but he was trying desperately to figure out where the hell these knives were coming from.

Though the group was predominantly men, a woman full of hate pulled one of the poles from the ground and swung it at Jaskier. Geralt must have made a noise of distress, because Jaskier turned just in time to catch it before it connected with his head. It must have hit his hands hard because he winced. Geralt simply couldn’t sit back and watch this. Despite the noise he tried to stand, “Jaskier-” He started. The bard glanced over and shook his head. He pulled the pole from the woman’s hands and hit her hard in the ribs with it. She doubled over and Jaskier sidestepped over to Geralt.

“Duck,” He said to Geralt and then shoved Geralt over. Later, Geralt would blame the nausea and disoriented mess for being the reason he was so easily knocked over. In the moment however, he simply found his face in the ground.

Head swimming, with a mouthful of dirt, Geralt almost missed the feeling of warmth spreading over his back, pushing through the town square with substantial power. Yet, when he lifted his head he saw that many of the people who’d just been making such obnoxious noise were sent flying back and he heard that the noise had stopped. What happened after that he wasn’t sure. He remembered vague flashes of warmth and kind words from Jaskier. He smelled the familiar and soothing scent of Roach’s mane. He knew they were moving . . . and then? Nothing.

Geralt wasn't sure when he closed his eyes, or for how long, but when he opened them again they were out in the forest. Jaskier had found them a small clearing, set up camp, started a fire, and started their dinner. The bard was sitting with his back mostly to the bedroll that Geralt has been laid out on. He was holding onto some animal, impaled on a stick, roasting it over the fire.

"Jask-" Geralt started to speak, his voice coming out even more hoarse and gravel like than usual. He shifted to sit up.

Jaskier turned to Geralt and shook his head, "Hey there, you big brute.” He said fondly, “Don't move alright? You were still swaying when we got here. And you had a terrible ache in your head. Just. Try to relax." Jaskier advised gently. "Try being the operative word, though I know you struggle with things that could bring you comfort." He said, a faint smile on his face. It was less easy than Jaskier’s usual grin, and he made no move to come closer to Geralt. Geralt wasn’t sure why.

Geralt grunted and finished sitting up. "The noise." He muttered.

"Is what caught you off guard? Yes. I know. You needn’t defend yourself to me. Those awful poles. I saw them. Well. I heard them first, which is why I went off to find you. I figured it would be enough to hurt your ears, I'll admit I was surprised to see that such an ignorant town created such a clever trap. I didn't realize it was common knowledge that sensory overload was your weakness, obviously it was something I knew-"

"And yet. You won't shut up." Geralt snapped. It wasn't unusual for Geralt to snap like that. He awaited the snarky response of irritation from his companion.

Instead he got, "Mm, well. Yes. That's a good point." And then . . . Silence.

Geralt looked over to Jaskier carefully, and slowly the details of the fight came back into his mind. Jaskier with the daggers. Jaskier stabbing a man in the eye. Jaskier somehow throwing back a dozen grown men . . . "What the fuck happened back there? How did you do- . . . All of that? Any of that?" Geralt asked slowly, clearly unsure how to word his questions to get himself the answers he wanted. "What did you do, towards the end- all I felt was heat-"

Jaskier kept his eyes trained on the fire and nodded slowly. "Energy." He corrected.

"Hmm?"

"All you felt- it was energy. Not necessarily heat. Not that they are dissimilar. Perhaps it was a gratuitous amendment, I just meant to clarify, but magic that makes heat often burns which is far more destructive than anything I can do- Than anything I want to do-"

Geralt's mind faltered. He was still trying to wrap his head around seeing Jaskier be proficient in protecting himself against a large group of opponents, with daggers no less. But, "Magic?" Geralt asked, his foggy mind slowly clearing as he started to catch up with the conversation they were having.

". . . Yes." He said slowly.

"Yes?"

Jaskier's expression was guarded, careful. "Yes. I used magic. I wasn't really intending to but you got yourself into a rather tricky mess and I wanted to keep you safe so it seemed like the option I had at the time-"

"Jaskier." Geralt interrupted, he didn’t have the capacity to listen to the rambling right now. "How can you use magic?” He asked directly. “You are . . . Just a bard."

And if, for a moment, something like hurt broke the careful mask Jaskier had set in place? Well. The moment was brief and Jaskier quickly seemed impassive again. "I am a bard, but not just. I also happen to be- part fae." He said slowly. "Which- I'm aware. Is vague. But other than the slight magic and the never aging thing I don't know many details, what with my mother having to raise me as though the Viscount of Lettenhove was my father rather than whatever mystery man she was with when I was conceived." He said, his tone bitter and frustrated. “Perhaps if I knew more about it all I would have said something sooner, but I don’t know the details and if I happened to be one of the things that you are supposed to kill, I wasn’t exactly thrilled with the idea of informing you-”

Geralt listened intently, his eyes searching Jaskier for the way that this revelation should change his appearance. For the tell tale sign that he was different now that Geralt knew the truth. There was none. He was still Jaskier. Jaskier who believed that Geralt could ever hurt him. Geralt deflated slightly. Perhaps he would have to work on convincing Jaskier of his own- significance in Geralt’s life. Then, Geralt's eyes hit Jaskier's hands, still holding the stick their dinner was on. They were red. Raw. Shaking. He reached out, carefully setting the stick and meat off to the side. Gently, he pulled Jaskier's hands into his lap and looked at them. "How did you burn yourself?" Geralt asked.

"The uh- the poles were iron." Jaskier responded quietly. Iron was a well known repellent for fae-folk of many kinds.

Geralt frowned and gently held Jaskier's wrists. "Can I bandage them for you?" He asked quietly. And despite the tension in the air Jaskier recognized that request for what it was. A silent Thank You.

#witcher fic #geraskier #geralt z rivii #jaskier #my witcher fic tag #my prompts #fae jaskier

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spaceskam · 4 years

Text

another part of me could be you

for @capmanes (i meant to have this done literally an entire week ago but i have no concept of time management)❤️️

ao3

warning: blood & guns; this also turned into something a little spiteful if you squint

Michael didn’t exactly hate Forrest, hate was a very strong word, but that didn’t mean he didn’t get unreasonably irritated every time he saw him do something stupid like breathe. The guy was clingy and stuck to Alex’s side more often than not which made it extremely hard to get information from him, but Alex never even seemed to mind. It was like he was using Forrest as an excuse to get away from all of their alien bullshit and refused to admit it. It made Forrest even more annoying.

Yet, when Forrest showed up outside the airstream, alone and panicking, Michael couldn’t turn him away.

“Whoa, dude, breathe,” Michael instructed, guiding him to go sit in one of the chairs around the fire pit. He went, bowing his head in his hands as he tried to steady his breath. Michael stayed crouched in front of him, making sure he was going to be okay. As much as he didn’t like him, Alex liked him, and that meant that it was now Michael’s responsibility to make sure he didn’t get a scratch on him. “What happened?”

Forrest grabbed fistfuls of his own hair, taking a sharp and shaky breath.

“Alex,” he said, voice breaking, “Someone took Alex and he just told me to go to you and, and we need to find him. We need to go find him.”

Michael’s chest clenched and he tried not to get too angry at the thought of Alex just being taken. What the hell did that even mean, taken? Who took him? Where? Why? What?

But Forrest was crying and Michael knew from experience that, when one person was losing it, the other had to stay strong. So, for once, for Alex, he had to just stay strong.

“Do you know who took him?” he asked, keeping his voice as controlled as possible. It was hard to breathe and his skin was on fire, desperate to go find where Alex was and steal him back. Maybe even kill the person who took him, who knows, he was feeling a bit unpredictable these days.

“No,” Forrest said, shaking his head. He lifted his head to make eye contact with Michael, not a single trace of shame as he cried and sniffled. “No, they just jumped us. I-I thought at first it was... But they grabbed Alex and literally started dragging him into a van like some shitty mob movie and he tried to fight back, but he was, like, really outnumbered and I-I couldn’t help, one of ‘em had a gun pointed at me and I just froze. God, I’m a piece of shit, I just froze.”

“No, that was a scary situation, it makes sense,” Michael–who definitely deserved a medal after this–said, “Then what happened?”

“They just threw him in and he just yelled to go to you before slamming the door closed and driving off,” Forrest explained, voice turning a little whiny as a new wave of tears threatened his eyes, “I feel so bad.”

“Hey, look, we’re gonna find him. Can you tell me anything about the van or what the guys looked like? Look, follow me and let me see if they were stupid enough to let Alex keep his phone.”

Forrest nodded and managed to stand up, both of them heading into the airstream. Michael pulled out his laptop that was a little bit shotty but he’d rigged it up pretty nice. Then, when he and Alex were still on good terms, he’d tweaked it a little bit more to make it even better. He instantly started trying to track Alex’s phone even though he knew it would be hard since Alex wasn’t really a fan of being traceable.

“The van was just all black, tinted windows. There wasn’t anything on it to make it stand out from any other all black vans with tinted windows. The guys all had masks.”

“Anything identifiable? Did you catch any license plate numbers or anything?”

“No, I mean–Wait, it was a government license plate,” Forrest said. Michael looked over his shoulder at him.

“You’re sure?”

“I’m, like, 99% sure. It didn’t have as many numbers or anything as regular license plates.”

“Good,” Michael breathed, turning back to the laptop, “So let’s find some military places and see if there’s any in the vicinity of where Alex’s phone is. If I can find it.”

“I just don’t get it. Who would want to take him?” Forrest asked. Michael sighed, realizing that, as much as he wanted to keep their secret to the small group they had, it looked like that might not be possible. Even if he kept it away, Forrest would be curious and he would ask questions.

“How much do you know?” he said. Forrest was quiet for a minute, clearly not understanding the question. Which meant Alex hadn’t really told him anything. But then again, he shouldn’t have been surprised. Alex was loyal. “Right. How much do you know about Alex’s father?”

“Um, that he’s a dick?” Forrest filled in, “I know... I know about what happened when you guys were young.” Michael froze for a moment, taking a grounding breath before putting his focus back onto the screen. “Alex said he’s done bad things, but didn’t elaborate past that.”

“Yeah, well, Alex’s whole family is affiliated with a pretty sketchy government organization,” Michael said, trying to keep his mind focused, “Alex has been trying to dismantle it.”

“What?”

The computer finished loading in that second, showing that Alex’s phone had received a text ten minutes prior and it’d pinged off a cell tower that had about a twenty square mile range. Michael grinned to himself, feeling prideful as he began searching for places in that area that he might be. His first instinct was to show Alex, show what he learned from watching him, but that wasn’t an option. Not right now, at least.

“Can I trust you?” Michael asked, writing down a few different addresses that might be it. He turned to face him, seeing that he was really fucking confused but he nodded. “No, seriously. If I start talking, you need to be aware that if you share anything I say to you with anyone outside of Alex, that you’re going to be in danger.” He didn’t really mean it as a threat. Or, maybe he did. “But you need to know if you’re going to help me get Alex.”

Forrest swallowed and nodded, drying his face entirely.

“Tell me what I need to know.”

“So. Aliens.”

“Aliens.”

“And you’re one?”

“Yep.”

“And Alex probably got taken because he protects you guys?”

“Probably.”

“And I was absolutely wrong about the Nazis?”

“Yeah,” Michael said, “Also, you should probably dial back the Nazi obsession when you’re literally related to modern day Nazis. It’s not a good look.”

“Yeah, well, clearly I need to get a job on Ancient Aliens after this, so,” Forrest huffed. Michael managed a smile, but it quickly faded as he spotted a black van in the lot of an abandoned building. “Coincidence?”

“Nothing’s a coincidence around here.”

Michael stopped his truck and turned it off, leaving it in plain sight on the property. There wasn’t much sneaking they could do anyway and, besides, he was feeling pretty powerful in the moment.

“So, what’s the plan?” Forrest asked.

“We go in, I throw guards at the wall, we get Alex, and we fucking flee to the bunker.”

“What bunker?”

“Either Alex’s or mine.”

“Wait, you both have a bunker?”

“Technically, Alex has two, but–“

“Who are you people?”

“Right, so basically just watch my back and I’ll watch yours. Alex said you’re ex-military, so you’ve got some skills, right?” Michael said. He shrugged slightly. “Good enough. Here, use this.”

Michael leaned over to the glove compartment and moved the acetone to pull out the gun, handing it to Forrest. He eyed him skeptically, but took it anyway.

“You think he’s gonna be okay?” Forrest asked. They made eye contact for a second and Michael nodded. Him not being okay wasn’t an option. Alex needed to be okay or Michael wouldn’t be okay. Simple as that.

“Let’s go get him.”

It was easier than it should’ve been to slip into the building. There were no snipers, no guards, no nothing. It had them both on high alert, just waiting to be caught off guard.

Michael kept his power bubbling under the surface, focusing on his anger that someone had taken Alex and making sure that he would be a force to be reckoned with the moment he needed to be. Forrest kept the small gun held up, finger off the trigger like he knew exactly what he was doing.

“I’ll have you know, I’m very against guns,” he’d said when they climbed out of the truck despite the fact that he cocked it easily and checked it over. Michael had rolled his eyes, but felt a bit safer knowing he wasn’t gun crazy. Less of a chance he’d actually shoot Alex.

“This is weird,” Michael whispered, slowly making his way down the hall, “Something’s wrong.”

“Yeah, something’s wrong, they took Alex,” Forrest pointed out. Michael shook his head.

“No, I mean...”

He trailed off as they took a corner and saw a guard laying in a pool of his own blood right outside a door. They both froze. It didn’t make any sense. Where were the other guards? Who did that to him? Anxiety pooled in his stomach and he looked over to Forrest.

“What now?” Forrest asked. Michael took a deep breath and nodded his head to the door.

“We go in.”

“And if Alex is hurt too?”

“Then I kill the person who hurt him,” Michael said easily. Forrest didn’t respond.

They both moved closer to the door and Michael used his mind to throw it open quickly, giving them the element of surprise to whoever was inside. But the only conscious one on the inside was Alex.

He was on the floor, prosthetic nowhere to be seen as he clutched his side. Three bodies laid out around them and Michael wasn’t sure if they were alive or not, but he knew for sure that Alex had taken them out. And Alex, wounded and struggling to breath, gave them a bloody little smile.

“Hey, Prince Charming,” he said, not really specifying which one of them he meant, “Just in time.”

Forrest immediately put the gun away and went to his side. Michael watched like an intruder as Forrest kissed his cheek as a small form of comfort and apologized. Alex smiled tiredly at him before pursing his lips for an actual kiss, something he got despite the fact his lips were covered in blood.

“Great reunion and all, but you’re hurt,” Michael said, pushing away that gut-wrenching feeling that came with not being the one Alex wanted when he was in pain, “Let me see it.”

Alex didn’t move his hand as he gave him his attention, still breathing raggedly. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good. Michael moved closer and watched him keep on pressing. He was going to bleed out.

“I’m fine,” Alex said, smiling up at him with those eyes that would’ve been totally swoon worthy if he wasn’t denying his pain, “Just a scratch.”

“Alright, Mercutio, move your hand,” he said, crouching in front of him.

Alex breathed a laugh and his head fell back against the wall, still smiling at him and refusing to move his hand.

“You remember that scene in Romeo and Juliet?” he breathed, closing his eyes slowly and opening then just as slow, “Remember we-we had to act it out freshman year together? You were Romeo, you-you had to hold me as I died. You-you suck at acting. Still Romeo, though, still. Now. That’s kinda funny. The-the cinematic parallel no one predicted.”

“Okay, we’re not about to reminisce or make jokes, that’s what you do when you’re about to die and you’re not fucking dying,” Michael said, keeping his voice steady despite the fact that he was getting more and more worried. He looked at Forrest who seemed way in over his head, but he still held Alex and pushed his hair off his sweaty forehead to comfort him. Michael had never been so grateful for someone he didn’t even like. “You’re gonna be okay, Alex.”

“Yeah?” Alex laughed, “These violent delights have violent ends. You know that one, right, Forrest?”

“Is he delirious?” Forrest asked Michael, turning to him for guidance. Michael licked his lips.

“You trust me?” he asked him. Forrest looked at Alex who seemed to be fading out of it more and more by the second as he bled, continuing to murmur Shakespeare under his breath. Which, Michael had to admit, was kind of funny. But he could laugh about it when Alex was healthy.

“Yeah,” Forrest said, nodding, “I trust you.”

Michael took a deep breath and nodded, closing his eyes as he mentally pictured his powers rising and strengthening specifically for Alex. Always for Alex.

“Lay him on the floor,” Michael instructed, “I’m gonna heal him, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to do it completely. More than likely, I’ll just be able to do enough to get him to Kyle, but I’ll be fucked up too. So you’re gonna need to drive and call Kyle as soon as I stop, okay? Then you’re gonna need to call Max so he and Liz can come out here and deal with the body and DNA situation, okay? Can you do that?”

“Absolutely,” Forrest agreed. They both helped as they laid him on the floor.

“Don’t touch him. It’s a lot of electrical power and I don’t wanna accidentally fuck you up,” Michael warned. Forrest nodded and moved just a little, giving them just enough space. Michael carefully peeled off Alex’s hand, seeing the nasty wound on his stomach still gushing blood. It was so bad, Michael couldn’t even tell what caused it.

Still, he layered his hands over it, feeling Alex’s heart pumping hard as it tried to save him.

“Thus, with a kiss, I die,” Alex said, huffing a little laugh as he took a strangled breath.

“Not that kinda kiss, babe,” Michael replied, “And you’re not dying.”

Then Michael focused all of his power on him, thinking of nothing but Alex and everything that he was. His pretty smile, his undying loyalty, his protective nature, his unmatched kindness despite all the cruelty he endured, his eyes, his mouth, his heart. Everything that was Alex Manes was incredible and it was way too soon for him to go away. Michael wasn’t done showing him he was good. Hell, he hadn’t even started.

He was starting now.

Things were blurry when his body decided it’d reached it’s peak and he had to turn to throw up. If a good amount got on one of the guy’s that kidnapped Alex, well, that was someone else’s problem.

“Michael,” Forrest said, his hand reaching for Michael’s shoulder and squeezing. It grounded him more than he’d ever admit. “Michael, you good?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and turning back to them. Alex was breathing well, eyes wide as he sat up on his own and stared at Michael in something akin to shock. They both knew he’d have a hand print on him and that was a bridge that would absolutely not be fun to cross. But it didn’t matter. He was breathing. “Yeah, I’m good. Sick, but good.”

“Alex, are you good?” Forrest wondered, his hand still on Michael as his other one went to Alex’s cheek. It was strange to see someone so unabashedly caring. For both of them.

“Yeah,” Alex said, nodding, “Still bleeding, but not as bad. Thing you just mended an artery and a, a kidney, maybe? I don’t know.”

“Good,” Michael breathed, laughing slightly, “Good.”

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Forrest urged.

Alex stood between them as they helped him get to the truck, letting him use them both of a crutches. Michael was weak and dizzy, but he could feel Alex’s gratitude and that pushed him. Besides, he had acetone in the truck.

They squeezed in the bench of Michael’s truck, Forrest in the driver’s seat and Alex in the middle. Forrest pulled out his phone and immediately started making calls as he put the truck and drive and got them the fuck out of there. Michael went for the acetone stash in his glove box. He downed it quickly and tried not to react when Alex leaned against him.

When he glanced at him, he had his eyes closed and he was taking extremely controlled breaths as he pressed his hand to the wound. Michael watched him for a moment as he drank and, once he was done, he carefully grabbed a t-shirt that was stuffed behind the seat. He smelled it, making sure it wasn’t gross, before moving Alex’s hand and pressing it over the wound.

“You need anything from me?” Michael asked softly so as not to disturb Forrest as he got directions to the cabin from Kyle, “Like, are you grounded or are you just lucid enough to be thrown into a panic attack over being kidnapped and having to take out four guys by hand?”

Alex huffed a laugh and tilted his head back to look up at him, eyes fond. Michael loved that look.

“I’ll be okay,” he promised, nodding, “Thank you for saving me.”

“Thank Forrest, he made sure we made it in time and handled the alien information like a champ,” Michael said.

“Thanks Forrest,” Alex hummed. Forrest glanced over at them both, flashing a smile. He held the phone to his ear with his shoulder, reaching out to squeeze Alex’s thigh gently.

“Yeah, Kyle, thanks. I’ll call Max and I’ll tell him where to go,” Forrest said, letting go of Alex to grab the phone and end the call, “You two still doing good? No one’s gonna die on me?”

“No,” Michael assured, “Not gonna let that happen.”

Forrest made momentary eye contact with him, going back and forth from the road to his eyes.

“I know. Thank you.”

“No worries.”

Forrest got Max on the phone and Michael settled into holding Alex. Everything was going to be okay.

“So, he’s gonna be okay?”

Kyle nodded and looked between Michael and Forrest. He’d stitched up Alex and left him on the old bed of the pullout couch, pain killers in his system. Michael knew, logically, that he had to leave soon and just let Alex be with his boyfriend while he healed. But, fuck, he didn’t want to go.

“Yeah,” Kyle confirmed.

“Thank God,” Forrest breathed, visibly relaxed at the confirmation. Kyle smiled and looked at Michael as if waiting for him to ask for a ride. He cleared his throat and decided he didn’t really have a choice.

“I can, uh, leave my truck here for you guys whenever Alex is feeling okay if, uh, you wanna give me a ride back into town,” Michael said. Forrest looked to him like he’d lost it.

“No, what if they come back? We need you here,” Forrest said. Michael didn’t know how to feel about that, didn’t know how to handle being needed.

“Stay,” Alex called sleepily. Michael looked back at Alex and then at Forrest, both of whom seemed eager for him to stay. He took a grounding breath. He didn’t want to go.

So he looked back to Kyle.

“Um, I guess I gotta hold down the fort,” Michael said. Kyle eyed him before slowly nodding.

“Take care of him, call me if anything goes wrong,” he said, “Bye, Alex, stay safe.”

“Bye,” Alex hummed.

Michael followed him to the door, quickly locking it behind him. He watched until Kyle was gone and then watched a little longer, making sure no one followed them there. After that, he closed his eyes and did a mental sweep of all the locks on the doors and windows in the cabin and made sure they were secure. Until they knew for sure who took Alex and why and if there was anyone else, he needed to be on high alert.

“Hey, Romeo,” Alex called. Michael turned his gaze to the pullout couch, seeing Alex in the middle and Forrest laying beside him. He figured before today he would’ve wanted to throw up at the sight. But, right now, he was grateful.

Really fucking grateful.

“C’mere,” Alex added, patting the bed beside him.

Like always, that magnetic pull tugged at Michael’s heart and he slowly stepped out of his boots and walked towards the bed. He looked at Forrest, making sure he was cool with it, and then laid down when he got a nod of confirmation. Alex grabbed his hand and held it over the stitches where the hand print was slowly but surely making itself known. He felt a rush of just pure fucking love and had no idea how to handle it.

So he moved closer, still checking with both of them that it was alright with glances. Forrest was already pressed to Alex’s side with his hand in his hair and he didn’t seem to have any issues as Michael pressed in just as close on Alex’s other side with his hand on his bare stomach. He could hear his heart thumping in his chest, his head still feeling a little off from healing Alex and acetone. Maybe he misunderstood.

“I-Is this okay?” he asked carefully. Forrest nodded solemnly.

“That was scary, it’s still scary, we don’t know if they’re coming back,” he said softly, “No one should be alone.”

“You’re being way too nice to me,” Michael huffed, swallowing harshly. His hands were shaking and he didn’t really know why. He couldn’t understand why this guy was being so nice to him, so open to him, and yet didn’t want anything from him. That didn’t compute.

“Not everyone has an agenda,” Alex murmured, eyes closed as he relaxed to the feeling of both men at his side. Michael could feel through the mark just how safe he felt with them, both of them. He could’ve cried.

“You take care of Alex, I take care of you, simple as that,” Forrest added, staring at him over Alex’s head. Michael nodded curtly as he finally understood a little bit better. Forrest was taking care of one of his own.

And Michael fell under that umbrella.

Simple as that.

#malex #malex fic #forlex #forlex fic #michael guerin #alex manes #forrest long #roswell new mexico #my fic #peep that delicious spite #hope you like itttt

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rosesareviolentlyread · 4 years

Text

Elias

Put together a little ditty for Elias being rescued because I couldn’t watch him suffer without giving him a rescue. The original idea this was based on belongs to @deluxewhump so thanks for letting me rescue the poor thing! This piece belongs in the BBU-verse, but not perfectly, as you’ll see if I end up continuing with it. Let me know if you’re interested in seeing more of this or want to be tagged!

Thanks to the lovely @sableflynn for beta reading & @straight-to-the-pain for helping me flesh out this idea

CW: vague mention of torture, slavery, gore, infection, body horror

Elias isn’t sure how long it’s been since they last came down here. In fact, he’s not quite sure how long he’s been down here. Wherever here is. For a while he had tried to piece together where he might be. He’d known for a long time no one was coming for him, but still, he thought he might get out.

Elias doesn’t think that anymore.

The worst part is he can’t even blame his brother. It wasn’t like they were really that close anymore. Or ever. Whatever fucked up family loyalty the mob guy who’d taken Elias had thought they’d had since being abandoned by their parents was wrong. All Elias had ever been for his brother was a scapegoat, a lookout, a cute younger face he could use as an excuse and an advantage to get out of what he was in. And Elias had worshipped him still.

Please officer, I was just stealing so I could pay for a room for my brother to sleep in.

When the officer let his brother go, he used the money to buy heroin while Elias shivered with him in the cold decrepit opium den.

Please judge, my brother is just a bit disturbed is all. He has a good heart, he’s trying.

Elias had taken the fall, because he’d get off easier as a minor, and spent six months in Juvie before he’d learned better.

HA. Go fuck yourself.

The last words he heard over the phone before his brother skipped town, leaving him to once again pay his debts.

Only this time, he feared it would be his last.

No, this time, he knew.

He feels foggy, but it’s nice, comforting. The bite of metal cuffs digging into reopened wounds is less present this way. Which is fine, since he no longer has the strength to hold himself up, sagging into exhaustion against cold damp concrete. His eyes focus on nothing, taking him to that place between pain and sleep, where he can drift endlessly, never awake enough to be aware but never falling fully unconscious.

The nightmares down in the dark depths of his mind are worse sometimes than the torture that came from the flourescent lights being flipped on, buzzing a silent call of impending doom. No, he knows the boys upstairs will get bored, but the monster in his head that reminds him of the useless wretch he was, is, will always be, never seems to run out of steam or ideas.

So Elias sits, or slumps, hoping to keep the real darkness at bay with pain and fog and emptiness.

Which is why he groans when he feels the tell tale warmth of hands on his face, demanding he crawl out of his tender reverie.

“Hey buddy, you in there?” The words sound gentle, not with the mocking tone he’s used to. And there’s no telltale flash of lights igniting the pain behind his head that seems to never stop aching. Instead there’s just a gentle pat, no, a supportive hand holding his lolling head, manhandling him to sit upright.

“Parker just fucking help me with the cuffs dammit. We gotta go fast. God this kid is fucked do the ass wipes not even know first aid?” Now that, that is the tone, the look he knows.

The familiar lookalike to his captors cuts through like a knife in red hair, perfect white teeth, fashionable clothing, and self-righteous anger that reminds him of why the dark is better than the light. He should be good, he knows, but he’s so tired. If he’d known they’d come so soon he would’ve slept, but instead all his exhausted, fevered mind can do is pull away and let the cry rip from his throat, a plea for mercy in the animalistic way that seems to be all they ever respond to.

Instantly a meaty hand slaps over his mouth, sweat coating his face and the air, making it hard to breathe. “SHUSH kid, it’s ok, it’s ok, we’re getting you away from these asshats” A hand carts through his hair in what’s meant to be a comforting gesture, but Elias trembles under the thick warm grasp.

“Got it!”

Suddenly, there’s a click, somehow audible over the thumping sounds of bodies and people above, the rain that he now realizes is louder, more present. The hands squeeze as another sob loudly comes from his chest at the feeling of metal peeled from his skin, irritating open wounds.

“Jeeeeesus Christ that’s nasty. Fucking leave it, the fuckers can use it for their own kinky shit from now own.” The gentle voice sighs at the angry voice’s harsh whisper.

“Keep your commentary to yourself, Sean. Alright buddy, you gotta be quiet ok? We’ll make this as painless as possible. Can you do that?”

He nods. Being quiet in exchange for relief is something he’s used to. Less lashes. A scrap of food. A drink of water instead of vodka. He can be quiet, he can strangle his voice into tears that will slide down his face, silently, mockingly for his own uselessness. For his own inability to face the only life a wretch like him could hope to have.

“Alright. We’re gonna lift you up, and they’re gonna pull you through alright? Just reach out your arms” His head spins as the boys move him around, the angry one grabbing at his waist while the soft one gently grips his feet. He doesn’t understand, doesn’t understand what torture this will be, and it sets his heart thumping, reserves of adrenaline making him breathe faster. “We gotta move fast little buddy. On three. One, two, three”

Suddenly he’s lifted through the air, as images of superheroes flying come into his mind from the place in his mind that is far away and long ago. His blurry vision sees the rectangular window, usually boarded over, ripped open with the sharp glass covered in a thick jacket. But Elias obeys, not matter what, and he uses his strength to keep his arms straight, and he feels- grass. Rain. Cool, fresh air on his face.

Outside.

Wet slippery strands of greenery slide through his hands, tickle his face, and for a moment, he feels something like hope flutter in his chest. Hands grab his wrists and pull, pull against grinding bones, skin barely healed that rips alongside the pieces still tender and open. The confusing peace is ripped from him, and he muffles his screams the best he can as black creeps into his vision.

It’s all Elias can do to try to breathe through gritted teeth as the world sits far and away, rain washing away any other sensation, overpowering as it soaks the last of his strength and warmth. Still, he tries to get up, pressing hands into mud - mud outside he’s out - before pain lances again through his wrists, his arms, every part of him and he collapses, shivering.

It’s not fair. He’s close, so close. That must be what this game is. A chance to escape, and he’s too weak to take it, like he always feared. The failed attempt to get up means he can’t even crawl, muscles twitching with exhaustion. A sob lingers in his throat as hands are on him again, lifting him.

This time, he’s draped over a warm, wet back, soaked fabric touching his bare chest. Hands grip him under his knees while another rests on his back to keep him balanced. Rain patters above him but not on him anymore, a blissful reprieve from its incessant pounding. He blinks heavily, trying to shift away from his aching muscles, trying to escape from going back inside. The hands on him press tighter, stilling his protests.

“Just rest, buddy. We’re getting you out of here” The gruff voice sounds less angry now, for some reason. It sounds..tight. Upset, but...different? He’s too tired to tell.

They start moving, and the words tumble in his confused brain, nonsensical. Elias didn’t get to leave. He failed the game, he failed escaping. He is going back into the basement, he knows that. But he’s too tired to worry now. The gentle swaying, the gentle contact is like a balm, the first small comfort that isn’t completely painful in what feels like an eternity. So Elias lets go, lets go the last of his hope of ever getting away, and slips away to the patter of rain and the warmth of another person.

Tagging some people who mentioned interest: (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed) @killtheprotagonist @greatandquestionablecontent @nowhumponmain @bleedingandfeverish

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heroinepose · 4 years

Text

commencement

Midoriya Izuku x Reader Word Count: 2,130 Warnings: I’m about to rot your teeth out with all this fluff, friends.

Falling in love with your classmate is hard enough when you’re not training to save the public -- or, you know, actively doing it. A hero’s life (even in training) is never easy. You’re more than worth the wait.

I participated in @bnhaclaimedmysoul‘s springtime event, and after talking to my sweetheart of a match, @gabbygee928, I decided this was the only springtime story that could ever come out of this (since the Japanese school year ends/begins in spring, after all). Surprise, friend! I hope you love this, and thanks for being patient with me as I live that essential employee life!

Izuku told himself, when he met you during your first year at U.A., that he could do it.

He didn’t know a thing about your exam score or your grades, but as far as he was concerned, you were so smart, and kind, and -- perhaps most important of all -- you never made him that nervous. The first time you’d spoken for any length of time, he’d turned the color of a ripe strawberry and stayed that way nearly the whole time, but you were game to answer as many of his questions about your Quirk as he could fire off. It was easy, then, for the shoulders he’d hunched in borderline terror (So close!, he’d thought at the time) to relax, for you two to become fast friends. It was as if somebody had turned on a light.

You were so determined to become a great hero, to make the most of your three years, that despite the burgeoning crush he’d developed in the spaces between the peculiar concentration of earth-shattering events that had marked your first year together he could never bring himself to say anything. To distract you. He knew how much it meant to him to become a hero, after all. He could never fault you, never wanted to be the reason you lost focus.

Izuku told himself with a single-minded clarity that it would just have to wait. It would be worth it.

So, he waited.

To his credit, he was every bit the caring and considerate friend he would have been whether he’d developed a crush on you or not (although it really only seemed to get worse with time; in fact your romantically-interested roles in the play that 2-A had put on in second year had very nearly broken him). You’d studied together, in groups and by yourselves, when either of you started struggling or when exams were coming up. He had the most vivid memory of sitting next to you in the common room one night, the smell of your shampoo heavy in your still-damp hair as you pored over your work-study options, trying to find the right fit. He’d mostly listened, then, helped you as a sounding board for weighing pros and cons and trying to find a way to set yourself up for success. In the end, you’d said that the decision had really been brought on by him -- how, he didn’t know, but the thought that you’d credited something so serious to his intervention made his face flush and his body burn hot.

For your part, although you didn’t know anything about your classmate’s gargantuan crush, you certainly held him in high regard. He was so good at more or less anticipating what you needed or understanding how to help you that it made you feel … well, loved, even if just platonically. Izuku was probably the most analytical person you knew, so it just seemed natural at first that he knew you best. He probably knew most people best. It felt right to try to keep up with his level of enthusiasm, and for the most part, it was challenging, but doable. You didn’t know about One For All, of course, but you were there as he grew with it, made it his own, without ever really having the full context for his unbridled joy with each milestone he hit. Every achievement, every new step, every contagious, megawatt smile had made your heart lurch, and that was when you realized it.

You loved Midoriya Izuku a little more than platonically.

But, you’d rationalized, if he’d felt the same way he surely would have said something. He was just sweet to just about everyone, always trying to be a good friend and be helpful. He was probably just treating you the way he would treat anyone who would let him, and as much as that hurt, you reasoned it couldn’t be helped. Not all love was requited, after all, and you didn’t want to make things weird.

You had a job offer six weeks into third year. It was contingent, of course, on your successful completion of U.A.’s Hero Course and obtaining your license within a certain period, but that all just seemed like static as you flew down the stairs two at a time to tell anyone and everyone within earshot. Mina had been the first to intercept you, commotion kicking up in an instant because you’d started yelling, and then she’d started yelling, and then Bakugo had started yelling because the two of you were yelling and getting on his nerves. Izuku had stuck his head around the corner long enough for you to notice, and you beelined for him without really thinking.

“They want me! Izuku, they want to keep me on as a sidekick!” His face was blank for a long moment, trying to keep up with the commotion before splitting into the biggest grin you’d seen on him yet. Your heart swelled, and before you could stop yourself, you’d thrown your arms around him, laughing. Izuku froze for a moment, suddenly aware of the number of eyes in the room, before you spoke again. “Thank you for helping me so much. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Slowly, carefully, he lifted his arms and squeezed back. It was brief, but full of feeling -- at least, he hoped. “You did all the hard stuff,” he managed, patting your back as you pulled away from him. “They would have been crazy not to give you an offer!”

The way your face was lit up with excitement, turning to show Kaminari and Sero the e-mail you’d received and chattering animatedly with Uraraka over their shoulders as she suggested celebrating … his heart almost couldn’t take it. That’s when he decided: this would be the year. He’d have to focus on getting in with an agency of his own, sure. Exams would be harder than ever. There were licensure exams to take, too, but by graduation, all of that would be behind you both. Graduation … he’d tell you then, for sure.

Of course, by the time graduation actually rolls around, he’s just about psyched himself out of saying anything at all. Your agencies aren’t forever away from one another, but what if it’s too complicated? What if you say no anyway, because you want to focus on getting started? Maybe he should wait, just one more year couldn’t --

It almost doesn’t matter, as mobbed as you both are all day. He catches your eyes across the courtyard more than once, but either he or you are awash in a sea of friends, underclassmen and classmates with well-wishes and flowers and requests to stay in touch. (He really has no idea how you’re carrying all of the bouquets, but it’s endearing.) The sun is low in the sky before he finally catches up to you, the near-empty courtyard bathed in yellow-orange light that makes the blossoms on the trees lining U.A.’s long path look almost red. He’s calling your name and taking off at a run before he really knows what he’s doing, the way he always has when it really matters. You stop in your tracks, looking over your shoulder just in time for him to put on the brakes and come to a stop near you.

“Don’t -- don’t go anywhere just yet,” he pants, as if he doesn’t do this literally all the time. “There’s something I have to say. I-If I don’t tell you now I don’t think I’m ever going to get to tell you.” It’s quite the statement, to be sure, and you can’t help but be a little confused.

“Izuku,” you laugh, turning to look at him fully as he catches his breath. Despite the fact that he’d grown taller, filled out, managed to look just that little bit tougher over the last three years, for some reason you still saw him as the wide-eyed boy who spoke to you that first week and had suddenly decoded everything about your Quirk. “It’s not like I’m dying, I’m still going to be around. You can still text me, and we can still meet up if --”

“Please,” he says again, and it’s with such conviction that it stops you dead. A sort of warmth blooms in your chest, mouth full of cotton and anticipation. Something in you seems to know what’s coming before he says it: “I like you. I’ve always liked you.”

The tiny what that leaves your mouth doesn’t deter him in the least; it wouldn’t be Izuku if it did. “When we met in first year, you were always so on top of things, you worked so hard … I-I didn’t want to distract you. I thought it’d be unfair to do that to you, as much as you talked about your plans and what you wanted to do. Of course then things started getting out of hand and it was pretty easy to act like nothing was wrong, but I always -- I always thought of you as more than a friend. I kept thinking it’d be okay, but I couldn’t wait anymore.” His chest is heaving as if he’s run a marathon, heart slamming against his ribcage. Briefly, he thinks he’d rather be fighting a villain than waiting for your answer, but the chime of the school’s clock signaling the late afternoon hour is all he gets for a long moment. It’s … worrisome.

It strikes you suddenly that you feel like crying. Not because you’re upset -- far from it -- but as the tears start to burn at the edges of your eyelids, you can see the worry bleeding into his face about it, and you wave the hand not holding your bag somewhat frantically to try to get him to stop. The smile you give him is only a little bit watery, a laugh bubbling from the tightness in your throat. He starts to explain in his typical Izuku way, rapid-fire and almost too low to hear, that you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to, but you cut him off.

“All this time, here I was waiting for you when we could have been together all this time.”

He feels like his heart stops so abruptly he might pass out. He might, actually, pass out. “What?” It’s almost as small as yours had been, and he would be more embarrassed if he wasn’t so shocked.

“Do you just not have eyes?” His face flushes, eyes comically wide, and you can’t help the smile that spreads slow across your face. “Of course I like you too. I thought I couldn’t have been more obvious.”

Izuku is relatively certain he’s kicked the habit of bursting into a torrent of tears when he’s overwhelmed by then, but for a moment, he feels like it might make a comeback. You’re trying to keep yourself composed, laughing at the dumbfounded expression on his face when you feel his arms lock around you and drop your bag full of bouquets and gifts in shock. Your feet aren’t even on the ground anymore -- he’s strong enough after all this time to lift you with ease, you think idly, before your arms are around his neck and he’s burying his face in your shoulder like the scent of your fabric softener is the only thing he needs to breathe for the rest of his life.

It may very well be. He spins you once, laughing into your blazer as you squeal in delight and squeeze him for security before setting you back on your feet, keeping hold of you until he knows you have your balance. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that.”

“Izuku, you just told me it was three years. If you tell me you’ve been stalking me since middle school, we’re going to have to have a conversation.” Izuku chokes, and you laugh, pulling your hands from his shoulders and straightening yourself out a little where you became disheveled in his grip. For a few moments, you just enjoy each other’s presence, and the fading light reflected in the panes of glass on the facade of the school that brought you together. It’s quite something, now that you think of it, leaving it behind.

“I wish I wasn’t leaving today,” you breathe, suddenly aware that you’ll be separated by more than a couple of floors for the first time in years. It seems too far -- maybe it’s always seemed too far, although you know you won’t be out of reach, necessarily. What’s a couple of trains between lovers?

You feel Izuku’s hands cupping your jaw, and for a moment, you think he’ll kiss you. If he wanted to, he could, but the nervous energy buzzing under his skin is telling him not yet, not just now. Soon, though. Instead, he smiles, bright as ever. It’s like daylight has come out again. “Let me walk you to the train,” he offers, and you smile back, heart full to bursting in your chest as he lowers a hand to take yours, lace your fingers together. You move to pick up your bag, but he beats you to it, hoisting it over his shoulder and grinning at you the way he always has.

He kisses you goodbye on the platform instead, chaste and sweet, texting you to make plans before you’ve even made it to your stop. You catch your own smile in the window of the train, and you wonder how you ever missed that he felt the same, already looking up activities halfway between your agencies.

#midoriya izuku x reader #deku x reader #midoriya x reader #bnha x reader #bnha spring time #bnha imagine

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kangaracha · 4 years

Note

Prompt: Zed and Eliza deep friendship that shows their dependency on each other? (Also platonic cuddling and touches)

Zed finds her on the roof, twenty minutes after the end of the world.

She’s sitting on the apex, her face turned firmly eastwards and her eyes trained on the horizon, watching the sea – the calm, glassy ocean, reflecting the moonlight like a pool of shining silver. Seabrook sits like a postcard between her and it, silent cul-de-sacs stretching across the impossible distance between her and the water. She doesn’t move as Zed settles silently in the space beside her, nor does she acknowledge him when he tries to ask what she’s doing up here, or why she’d come up here instead of going home after…after…

It should be a cold, clear night, the moon full and winter drawing on, but it is hot as a summer afternoon out here, thick black clouds slowly shifting across the sky to obscure the moon while they sit on the roof and sweat. The air is acrid and stiff, rasping at his throat as he breathes in and out; he wishes he was back downstairs, inside the relative safety of the house.

“Do you ever watch those monster movies they play on TV on Friday nights?” Eliza asks after an age, her voice deceptively calm.

Perched uncomfortably beside her, Zed frowns and pokes at a loose shingle underneath him, trying to shove it into a more secure position. “I thought you hated those,” he says carefully, as if this might be a trick.

Eliza’s lip curls in disgust. “I don’t,” she claims. “They’re anti-zombie propaganda. Bonzo…Bonzo likes watching them.”

Zed gives her a look that says he doesn’t believe her, but all he asks is, “So?”

Eliza shifts restlessly, her fingers digging along the edge of a shingle like she’s trying to pry it from the roof. “Most of those movies end with an angry mob coming to kill the monster, you know.”

Zed shifts his shoulders – rolling the tension from his body or shrugging in disregard, she can’t tell. “The monster wins in some of the though, don’t they? What about like, Frankenstein? Or Beauty And The Beast? Zoey loves that movie, you can’t tell me the beast doesn’t-”

“Frankenstein’s monster kills himself,” she points out. “An angry mob almost kills the beast, until he turns into a human. That’s not winning.”

“Okay,” Zed says slowly, searching for another example. “What about that werewolf one last week? Bonzo said that one was a good one.”

Eliza hesitates. “I don’t know,” she admits. “I told…I told Bonzo it was stupid and I was busy when he tried to tell me about it the other day. And now-”

She stops short, her breath caught in her throat before she can say it out loud. Her hands clutch at the roof; she feels kind of unsteady suddenly, her stomach churning at the thought of it, the fear clutching at her backbone, the regret-

“The point is,” she snaps instead, trying to fill up her empty lungs with something that tastes less like ash in her throat. “Stories about monsters only ever end one way.”

She almost looks behind her, the punctuation to her statement, but fear paralyses her, and all she can look at is the ocean, so close and yet so far from her reach.

“He’ll be alright, Eliza,” Zed says, deceptively calm. She can see him in the corner of her eye, watching her, but her eyes won’t focus on him properly, won’t turn far enough to see anything else in the middle distance.

Behind them, there is an explosion that punctuates his words, loud enough that the house shivers beneath them. Zed jumps. Eliza grows still, her knuckles turning white against the shingles.

“Will he?” she asks in response, quieter than anything she’s said before.

“Yes,” Zed says firmly, and chances a look behind them, towards the cacophony of noise that carries across town, the shouts and the screams, the sirens and the crack of guns, rebounding off the pavement. “He’ll be over in the 400’s painting something and back by morning, bet you anything.”

Eliza turns her head, just far enough that she can see the edge of the 400’s. The streets are pitch-black, just like theirs, and clouded in smoke, so thick that she can barely see the rows of rundown houses amidst it. The flames grow in the corner of her eye, brighter than she remembers them being (or maybe her eyes have just gotten used to the dark…but the sound is getting louder too, the roar of the blaze, the screams of the people that flood the streets, and Bonzo ran towards the-).

She turns back to the sea. “What about us?” she asks, quieter again still, so that she thinks maybe he won’t hear her speak at all.

Zed looks behind them again. In the dark space between them, his hand finds hers, warm fingers prying hers up from their death grip on the peak of the roof. “I don’t know,” he says slowly, every word drawn out like they might be enough to keep the mob at bay. “I can’t see which way…”

“Is it bad?”

Zed looks again, pulls a face, but doesn’t answer, just grips her hand tighter, like a lifeline he can’t let go of. Eliza’s not sure she could let go either, for fear that she might lose him forever.

They used to sit up here until midnight, she remembers, watching the lights of Zombietown flicker in and out as intermittent power rolled through the lines, or tracing the streets of Seabrook from the centre of town out. Once, Zed had found a pair of binoculars, and with those they could see everything in Seabrook – the school, the shops, the sweeping green parklands and crystal-clear pools glittering in their backyards, like they couldn’t just walk down and swim in the ocean at any given moment. It was their tradition – on sleepless nights, they come to Zed’s roof, and they whisper about what it would be like to live in Seabrook.

Privately, Eliza wonders if this is the last time they will ever sit here.

“We should go inside,” Zed says instead, when the silence has stretched too long and the shouting behind them has grown too loud. “It isn’t safe up here.”

“We can stay one more minute,” Eliza replies. She’s still looking at the sea, tracing the faint lines of waves as they roll into shore; a whole different world, so close it feels like she could step off the roof and into the soft sand, and yet so impossibly out of reach too.

“Eliza,” Zed says, a little more urgently – his eyes stray too far behind them again, and then downward. He has a sister to worry about, of course, and a father. He shouldn’t be out here on the roof with her, who has nothing, not even her mum anymore (the thought settles like a stone in her throat; hard to spit out, and even harder to swallow down). He should be inside, trying to help them, as close to his family as he can be.

“Okay,” she acquiesces and gets carefully to her feet. She has to let go of his hand to do so – her fingers feel cold and empty in the space that is left, detached from something far too important to lose. “Okay, let’s go.”

“We’ll be okay, Eliza,” Zed says, like a promise, and she tries not to meet his eye. He is open, earnest and honest, and she is…cynical, already sure in her heart that they have nowhere to go, whether they try to disappear into the streets or hide up here on the roof and wait for the humans to find them.

She should reply to him, should try, for her friend, who has risked leaving his family to come up and sit with her here while the world falls down around them. She should thank him, at least. But instead, she says nothing at all; just climbs down from the roof and into his bedroom, where the smoke is thinner and the air marginally cooler, where the noise from outside is slightly dimmed. He follows her without question or argument; the guilt settles deeper in her stomach, a knife so deeply embedded so doesn’t know if she will ever be able to get it out.

Behind them, Zombietown burns on, the flames and the people that light them spreading street by street, until nothing is left in the morning light.

#disney zombies #zombies 2 #z-o-m-b-i-e-s #zed zombies #zed necropolis #eliza zambie #eliza zombies #zombiedadfics

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prismarts · 3 years

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A Bond That Lasts Centuries... (Chapter 2)

Plot: Hisirdoux Casperan, apprentice to Merlin, had been sent to the mortal realm to protect the mortals and finish the tasks given to him…. unknown to him and his familiar, an old student of Morgana Le Fay had been sent there by his master as well…

Notes: Mentions of blood and torture, i tried not to be too graphic cause I am no good at that stuff...., witch trials....yayyyy....., angst, Douxilly of course, inspired by AATY by @alovesongshewrote

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Late 1500s

The 1580s was when it went south for the two apprentices still roaming around Europe, the people's worries and fear of witches grew to an all time high. Making it rather difficult to travel and finish magical tasks.

Illy had been a small local doctor in England at the time, but when the witch trials began, she grew paranoid of practicing medicine.

Her reasoning being her focus was always going to be on magical healing and as such, she might get caught for witchcraft. Luckily, she had found a relatively abandoned small house to live away from any of the mobs that would happen during this time. She tried to blend in and hide for the most part.

Douxie may have been smart to hide during this time too, but in late 1599, he wasn't as lucky...

Due to his eagerness to finish the tasks given to him by Merlin, wanting so badly to prove himself, he had elected to try and finish two of them at once to save him some time. Freeing a creature from it’s magical prison and securing another one of Merlin's artifacts.

It should have been easy....

But everything went wrong when the creature decided to attack him, and more importantly, the people around him. Douxie got captured once the mortals saw him using magic against the creature even though he was trying to protect them.... Even though, he used that magic to save their lives from said creature.

They saw him as a threat.

Archie wasn't able to stop Douxie from being taken away, he may be a dragon but he was also still a familiar who needed to be in his less conspicuous form of a cat, surrounded by an angry mob. Instead, he spent the next few days searching for Illy, hoping she could help him save his wizard.

The familiar eventually found the apprentice on the outskirts of town as he ran over to her, Illy, upon recognizing him, immediately lifted the familiar up into her arms. Carrying him to an empty alleyway where they could talk, knowingthere was too much at risk if anyone were to see them conversing.

"Archie? Wh...what are you doing her- w...wait...w..where's Douxie?!"

"H..he...they caught him. He's in the dungeons..." The familiar seemed to be shaking in fear and worry. Looking up at the apprentice quietly as his voice trailed off.

"N...no...h..how long.."

"A few days now, I...I wasn't able to stop them and I...can't get him out on my own...h..how did you manage to-"

"I...i lived outside of town....I was able to hide before anyone noticed anything magical about me...." Illy shook her head worriedly, "B..but that doesn't matter....w..we need to get Douxie out..."

The two ran towards the castle dungeons as they wondered how they were going to do this. Having been too panicked over Douxie's safety to form an actual plan, they hid out somewhere nearby dungeon entrance to plan things out.

"I'll distract the guards, you sneak in and look for Douxie." Archie suggested as he looked up at the apprentice who was understandably afraid. Illy had never been in a situation like this, she was barely strong enough in magic. How was she going to pull this off?

"A..are you sure?...wh..what if I can't get him out?.."

"You can, Illyria... don't worry about me, just stay low and get Douxie out as quickly as you can"

Illy nodded shakily, watching the familiar shapeshift into a black raven. Archie flew off and proceeded to peck at the guards, bothering and distracting them. The apprentice watched quietly and found the perfect moment, running into the dungeon.

She focused, making a glowing light appear on her hands and looked around the dim dungeon cells. She could feel hear her breathing quicken out of worry as she almost ran through the hall, turning her head around, only stopping every second to check every single dungeon cell to see if her friend was inside.

'Please...please please be here....' She thought to herself, her fears grew worse as she felt her anxieties heightened when she couldn’t find him. Were they too late? Was Douxie gone? Did they-...... Did they kill him?...

The apprentice stopped in her tracks, her entire body felt cold and her face looked pale as she stared at the dungeon cell in front of her, the turquoise hue of her magic glowed as it revealed the wizard she had been searching for...

Except she could barely recognize him, Douxie was chained to the wall. His blood dripping down his head and soaking his hair in a dark crimson. He was limp, dangling from the chains. His clothes were stained red almost completely and was ripped in tatters, his arms and legs visibly bleeding out with large slashes and wounds.....

The dark red, a stark contrast to his now pale skin....

"D..Douxie....no..no no.."

Illy panicked, she looked around in fear, trying to find something she could use to break him out but instead deciding to blast the cell gates open out of complete adrenaline. The metal bars of the gates flew around the spacious cell, landing with a loud clang as it hit the stone floors. She ran over to the bloodied and tortured apprentice, she could have sworn....he flinched at the sound of the metal.

She blasted the chains until they broke as she grabbed Douxie's arm and slung it over her shoulders as she hoisted him up. It proved difficult, seeing as how he was much taller than her but she was able to while levitating his legs up.

Illy ran back out of the dungeon cells as quickly as she could, knowing that Archie was still distracting the guards. She was able to get out and rush past them, but felt herself suddenly stop in fear as she was soon surrounded by other guards and townsfolk.

The guards were starting to surround her and Douxie, she was still levitating his legs up and showing obvious signs of magic. But her fear was only powering her aura even more...

She put her arms up defensively but shakily, she didn't want this.

She never wanted to hurt anyone, "S..stay away! P..Please...just let us go!"

The crowds started to get aggressive, they kept walking closer towards the two immortals. A clear motivation to kill and burn them as they carried torches and weaponry with them. The almost paranoid bloodlust in their expressions as they inched closer.

The apprentice was shaking in fear, not just for herself but also for Douxie, he had suffered so much and was obviously, fatally wounded. She didn't want him to die...she couldn't. She knew she had to find a way for them to escape but she didn't want to kill any innocent mortals who were just....afraid.

They were just afraid of beings that they didn’t understand, afraid that magic could hurt them....

She tried to think quickly, continuing to back away while carrying her wounded friend. Her mind started to race from all the panic as her turquoise eyes glanced around until she caught a glimpse of his rune bracelet, the same one he uses to channel his magic.

An idea struck inside Illy’s head as she backed up with Douxie still draped over her. She wasn't sure if it was a good plan, she wasn't as powerful as the wizard who was limp in her arms. Her magic wasn’t as stable... as...reliable.

But it was the only option she had left, carefully she hoisted the apprentice in her arms up a little more, closing her eyes worriedly for a second before saying the incantation.

"Interminus nocti sluumberso!!!"

She would have kept her eyes closed but she didn't as the magic aura seemed....brighter with hints of..... a familiar sky blue dancing around the turquoise glows of her aura.

Illy's eyes widened as she looked around, everyone surrounding were effected by the spell and were now in a deep sleep but...how?

Her magic was weak especially when it came to spells like that....

She was surprised and confused before remembering the blue glow that seemed to have collided with her magical aura, her heart started to swell in the realization.

The apprentice quickly tuned her head down towards the limp wizard as she saw it...his bright sky blue magic fading from his hands and bracelet.

He...helped her..

She soon shook her head, starting to levitate Douxie's legs again and running towards her home. Shee met back up with Archie, who had taken the form of a bear, helping the smaller apprentice carry their wounded wizard. Illy was shaky as they did so, she was still visibly traumatized by the sight of how bloody her friend was...but she didn't let it get to her...not now..

She couldn’t....

As soon as they got the apprentice to her small house, Illy levitated him to the bed and immediately asked Archie to get her a bucket of water and some rags as she worked to get the bandages, needle and threads, levitating them over towards the bed.

Living through the plague, she helped a few plague doctors treating the patients of the disease and picked up quite a bit of medical knowledge.

It took about an hour, from the sheer state of it all but she was able to clean, stitch and bandage the wounds all over Douxie's body as well as heal the ones that were still bleeding...

Her healing has gotten particularly better over the past couple of hundred years.

The tortured apprentice was still unconscious which was understandable from the amount of injuries he sustained.

Illy practically collapsed on her knees, staring down at her hands and clothes both stained in Douxie's blood, making her shake violently. She hugged herself and started to sob shakily.

Tears didn't stop falling down her face as her breath hitched, she could barely breathe...she could barely think....

She wasn't taking this well at all...

Archie saw the complete devastation and fear in the girl's shaking. His ears flatten at the way she was sobbing and struggling to calm down.

He walked up to her in his cat form, purring and nuzzling her to calm her down. She shakily looked down at the familiar and petted his ears, her breathing was erratic, uneven from the traumatized state that she seemed to be trapped in.

Worried about her friend’s condition....

She could barely say a word...but was grateful for his concern....

Illy sat there quietly with Archie as they stared at Douxie, she could only hope they were quick enough to make sure he'd be alive but only time could tell...

#toa #toa wizards #tales of arcadia #wizards tales of arcadia #3below tales of arcadia #trollhunters tales of arcadia #douxilly #douxie x oc #toa douxie #toa archie #hisirdoux casperan #hisirdoux #douxie #douxie casperan #tales of arcadia oc #A Bond That Lasts Centuries

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searchingforbucky · 5 years

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Fic Rec List (Part 9) :)

Hello! I’ve gotten MANY many requests for Mobster!Bucky, which is one of my favorite AU’s! (I say that about almost every AU, I know, I’m sorry, I cant help it) I just really like AUs obviously. ANYWAYS, on this list are some of my favorite mobster stories in no specific order! Yet again this is long, I hope you lovelies enjoy! If their are any mistakes im sorry!

Run to Me by @sgtjbuccky

I fell in love with this story immediately. The dynamic Bucky and the reader have is wonderful. She doesn’t take any nonsense, and boy is he just smitten. The way the story represents Bucky is awesome, he is cocky and full of himself, but you see the west side, the insecurities and his heart. Its not one of those fics with a whole lot of angst, its just a genuinely good read. It makes you happy, and the DRABBLES oh god the drabbles that come along with it were so cute. Also, Salina has another spectacular Mobster Bucky story called **Disbarred https://sgtjbuccky.tumblr.com/post/180246739540/disbarred which a very, very good fic as well. Makes me want to get a mobster of my own lol.

Black Serpent Universe by @invisibleanonymousmonsters

LOVE love this series. This is the first mobster AU I think I ever read, and it is literally flawless. The universe is basically on every long oneshot and accompanying drabbles/HCs. The one shot is everything I could’ve asked for in a fic, its long, well thought out, detailed, exciting, heartbreaking, fluffy, and so so realistic. I know what you’re thinking, a mobster story realistic? Okay, so maybe not the mob aspect, but the real reactions and the slow burn, its true to life, they don’t just jump into things, they live through the build up. The emotions are practical and real and I feel like they were people and not characters. Its just, really freaking good.

Petals & Bullets by @revengingbarnes

This one is really unique, and it talks about sex slave so you know that's a trigger warning. anyways it's just really well done. And like I said I've never really read anything like it and I think that's what makes it great. And when you go into reading it you really think that it's going to be dark and hard to read because it's such heavy material, but the way it's written is really good because it gives that white and makes it worth it to read. It really makes you feel a lot of emotions that I couldn't honestly pinpoint because I was angry at the situation but I loved the characters, so all in all it was just a genuinely good read, and it was really really well done. Not many people could take that subject and turn it into a really good story like that.

Stay, Gold by @the-canary

You want some angst with a side of pain? Well heres the fic for you. This one HURT. There is not a happy ending, not even close. But with all of that being said, it was beautiful. As you read, you realize whats happening and you just hurt for them, they deserve better and you want them to have better, but thats not their fate. They are a pair of lovers unfortunately a part of a tragic story, but oh sort they make the most of what time that had. I cried, a lot, but I also loved the characters. They loved each other, so much, and you could feel it in your bones. Fantastic story.

Tangier & Redux by @softlybarnes

Theres something about this one that I love, something so unique about the reader. She’s… mysterious, ethereal, and kinda sinister but most importantly damn powerful. The way she speaks, and talks, it reminds me of a witch. Its something that you don’t see a lot in stories like these, the reader being anything but ‘innocent’. She doesn’t take any less than she knows she deserves, and he fiercely wants whats best for her. Sometimes they don’t think those are the same thing. But the chemistry they have, its so nice to read. And the scene setting in this, its perfect, you can picture exactly what it would look like. And the personification of Bucky as well, he’s no wannabe mobster, he’s ruthless, and they fit together so well.

Someday by @221bshrlocked

This one is really good, it's Rough and violent but like that's the whole point he's a mobster he's ruthless Yet it's perfectly balanced with the fluff that's in there because at first you don't really see it but as time goes on you see all of the small nuances to how much he really likes her and how soft he is actually on the inside and it's one of those stories that you can tell was just written naturally like there wasn't a lot of structured to it and I think that's some of the best stories because it's like real life you know it just happens and you go with the flow and there's nothing jarring that pulls you out of reading. The smut scenes are also perfectly balanced between being sexy yet sensual and sweet. Really awesome fic.

Truth Set Free by @propertyofpoeandbucky

It was so hard picking one of Leilanis story to focus on, because they’ve done some absolutely spectacular ones such as “Missin’ My Girl”, “Soft To The Core”, “Burst Of Anger”, “Maybe This Time”, “How Unlikely”, and of course a fan favorite “Good Business”. However, I decided to focus on the first one I read of theirs. Its such a cool piece, the way its set up is super good I the way that its picking up sort of like in the middle of the story but you’re not lost, you gather details as you go that forms the whole picture in your head. I love the whole secretive thing it has in it, it makes it kinda mysterious to read. Then you get to the second part, and besides the drama, its sweet, he knew they were gonna be together from the beginning. And this sweetness isnt even like explicitly said, you can just see the nuances from his actions. Really good fic, and so are all of the others.

Lil’ Anthony by @tranquil--heart

My favorite part of the mobster Trope is the whole big bad mob boss who would do anything for those he loves. And this is a perfect example of that, because he's so hard and tough and a bad guy, but when he's with her he's soft and he just melts. the violence in this is the perfect mix of descriptive without being gory, it's realistic yet not exaggerated or too much to handle. it represents the truth well because it's not ignoring the truth to mobsters. The way they use the other characters and it is why I was awesome because you get to see the comparison between who they are in the Fic and who they are in the movies. The sexy scenes are nice too lol, and knife kink alert lol, That must be said.

World On Fire by @beckzorz

Alright so this one is super awesome, it's not done yet but what is done of it is too amazing to not include. it's like the perfect combination of two AUs: its mob boss Bucky, and 40s Bucky all in one. What else could you want honestly?The story keeps you on your toes, you know he's secretive she's in love with him oh, you don't really know what's happening next until it happens and then you think we'll of course that's the perfect way to take the story. the way she writes to is just so amazing, it feels like you're back in time and the way she uses those sensory details is just spectacular. In the reader has secrets to so it's like as your reading your findings these things out And it's just really interesting there is no boring aspect to it.

The White Wolf by @captain-ariel-barnes

Okay so this is the first like long mobster fix that I read and it was a really good introduction to that universe. The way every aspect of this story comes together is just really amazing the plot, the dynamic between the characters, the details, the emotion it makes you feel, it's just the perfect combination of pain and fluff in it just is a really good read. it was a roller coaster of emotions, but it was worth it there wasn't just any angst to have angst it was all plot driven and necessary. Also the way it circles back to the beginning at the end is just an example of really good writing it was believable and true to mobster universe is but it also really reference to the Cinematic Universe really well because it brought in those little details and twists from the movie. And I really really love the flower aspect of it, I just really like flowers, and the fact that he loved her so much from the beginning and you could just see that throughout the whole story was just beautiful.

His Favorite Gal by @mycupoffanfiction

Okay so there's probably nothing in the world I love more than tough guy and the waitress trope. and this is just a really good rendition of that, it was one of those stories that like was so good that you read it all in one go and then you get to the end and you're kind of like well damn now it's over and I don't really know what to do. He loved her so much and it was one of those stories that made you feel really powerful to be a woman because it wasn't ever demeaning and it was really empowering to see her go from being a waitress to the queen of New York like that, I really like how it represented how if you have a healthy relationship then you'll both grow to be better people (besides the whole mob aspect lol)

A Business Deal by @em-imagines

So this one was super interesting, I really loved seeing as the story went on how they were falling for each other. And honestly just like the beginning of the story that plot twist was absolutely amazing, I really like how it showed how powerful the reader can be. Because a lot of the times and fix complex where he has all the power over her, but I really like seeing them on that sort of equal plane. The dynamic between the two was also really awesome because there wasn't ever any Real damsel-in-distress moment oh, they were both really independent and capable people who came together to form that's really nice relationship. It was just a really good story to read, and there are many like it out there.

Should’ve Listened by @becs-bunker

You know as I've been saying I really like the stories where the reader isn't just completely helpless, and this is another really good example because you know like it says the reader is truly a bad ass. When you think the world that she's in the middle of and how she reacts to it it's really empowering, and the way her and Bucky interact is really nice to see. And it's really interesting to read because you can literally feel the tension between them and when is it going to happen when is it going to happen oh, and I really hope there's another part to it lol. Its really well done, and a nice funread.

Kings by @kaunis-sielu

So this one I'm going to be honest and say I didn't know if I was going to like it because I'm not a huge fan of really helpless readers but the way this was done is just really sweet. because she's not just completely helpless like she's not incapable, she just needs help because this isn't the world she's used to being in. and you know the relationship moves fast but you never get the feeling of like that went so fast, you just really feel the love in their relationship. And you see her grow into the position she got put into as his girlfriend, because you feel her gain her confidence and she becomes a real badass in the end and I love how much he loves her it was a really sweet story.

Also check out some awesome drabbles at @empyreanwritings under #Mob Monday, and at @bucky-plums-barnes under #Mobster!Bucky

Thank you guys for reading until the end, i hope you love these as much as I do!💖💖

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