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#and trying to convince him that he should be paying child support or at least giving Kon money not in the least because
raeofgayshine · 2 years
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Lex Luthor: What are your pronouns?
Impulse: What’s a pronoun?
Lex Luthor: Indicative but not exclusive to your gender identity.
Impulse: Stop swearing at me.
Lex Luthor: Can I refer to you as they/them?
Impulse: But my name is Impulse.
Lex Luthor: Superboy, what are the annoying one’s pronouns?!
Superboy: Oh, we use he/him for him, he doesn’t really care though.
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mapofthesoul20 · 1 year
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TXT College AU Headcanons
Because TXT are officially in (Cyber) University, why not have some fun imagining the shenanigans they’d get into as average American college students? (All quotes are irl quotes by me and my friends btw XD) 
Yeonjun is the one who wakes up half of campus by screaming in the quad in the middle of the night. He is not drunk. 
Yeonjun accidentally becomes the poster child for the school and is in every ad because he is just that pretty and talented. The others never let him live it down
Yeonjun, two weeks of class left: “Is it too late to admit I don’t know what’s going on in this class?” 
Soobin was unanimously elected president of his fraternity. His frat is  actually like nice and chill, but they JUST NEVER LISTEN TO HIM. He leaves with a headache after every chapter meeting 
Soobin doesn’t understand how football works but shows up in full gear and face paint to every game 
Soobin: “If the teacher doesn’t show up in 15 minutes, we can leave”
Beomgyu is the one who burns the popcorn in the dorm at 3AM and triggers the fire alarm. Multiple times. Taehyun threatens to strangle him 
Beomgyu is on some obscure sports team, like archery or water polo, and Yeonjun is 100% convinced Beomgyu is making it up just to fuck with him
Beomgyu, crossing the street: “Go on, cars, hit me! Pay my tuition!” 
Taehyun is a lead in the a capella team (Sorry, I had to do it to someone XD). Takes them to Nationals with his rendition of Zayn Malik’s “Let Me”. (Soobin shows up in full gear to support) 
Taehyun is the friend who will always be there to help his friends move in/out, especially if there’s pizza offered. Be warned, he’s also the friend who will take a video of them when they drop something on their foot and are hopping in pain, posting it with a caption “Lol, what a loser <3″ 
Taehyun: “I should start carrying my knife around again.” 
Hueningkai’s family lives near by so he’s always hanging out with his sisters and doing laundry at home and at least once a week brings home a stray friend in need of a home-cooked meal
Hueningkai walks up to the ornamental piano gathering dust in the corner of the student lounge, plays the most hauntingly beautiful rendition of Mozart, says “I think aliens exist and we should be nice to them” and walks away never to be seen again
"Okay, what errors were made in this lab experiment?” Hueningkai: “Showing up to class.” 
Yeonjun gets drunk at frat parties and makes elaborate plans to kiss Soobin. Except he’s usually conspiring on said plans with a very drunk and very painfully oblivious Soobin
Taehyun and Hueningkai were roommates freshman year. First day of orientation, Taehyun claimed Kai as his and they’ve been bffs ever since.
Soobin: “This class is really similar to the one I took last year.” Beomgyu: “So you’re just taking the class again??” Soobin: “Well, if I wanted to change it, I would have to go talk to people...so yeah!”  
Hueningkai and Yeonjun sustain themselves off of cup noodles and whatever they can steal from the cafeteria (27 containers one time, but who’s counting). It’s not unusual to walk into the dorm kitchen in the middle of the night and see one or both of them standing in the dark slurping noodles with a dead look in their eyes
Beomgyu and Taehyun are each other’s go-to dates for Soobin’s frat’s parties because 1) It saves them the headache of having to figure out dates every time 2) they love to tease people who are jealous 3) who else is gonna turn up with them to “I’m a Barbie Girl” 4) It gives Soobin a migraine every time they clear the living room just to do a dance battle ending in Beomgyu dipping Taehyun, and really isn’t giving Soobin a headache one of the great simple pleasures of life? 
Soobin and Hueningkai one night were like, let’s get an ouija board. Immediate regret. Taehyun didn’t even bother trying to stop them, he just he hid in his room because he is a scaredy cat and smart enough to know not to mess with spirits 
Yeonjun and Beomgyu are straight A students which drives their professors crazy because they’re always talking loudly and goofing off together in class and taking up office hours trying to flirt with the professors 
Taehyun at the library: notebooks open, study guides neatly typed out, 10 highlighters and red pens at the ready, reading three books at once. Soobin next to him: gave up studying twenty minutes ago, downing a family-sized cheeto puffs bag 
Beomgyu and Hueningkai have movie nights in the dorm’s common room (often leading to said popcorn burning). They eventually get banned though because Beomgyu keeps screaming at the jump scares. And because they had reconstructed the entire common room into an elaborate fort 
When Taehyun gets really homesick he sleeps in Yeonjun’s dorm room, curled up on the beat-up bean bag and making that ‘Taehyun scream’ at anyone who tries to make him move. Yeonjun just feeds him snacks by hand and tries to convince the RA, No no, he swears, he really isn’t hiding a pet cat in his room 
Feel free to add more XD
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Always Trust Sokka’s Instincts Series
Fandom: Avatar the Last Airbender
Author: Thisisentertaining
Rating: Teen
Warnings: Violence, Child Abuse, Imprisonment, Strong Language
Word Count:188,824
Characters: Sokka, Jet, Zuko, Smellerbee, Longshot, Pipsqueak, The Duke, Katara, Aang, Chey, Jeong Jeong, Gan Jin leader, Zhang Leader, Canyon Guide, The Gaang, Yue, Pakku, Arnook, Iroh, Zhao, Aunt Wu, Meng, The Fisherman, Zhao, Teo The Mechanist,  Bato, June, The Sun Warriors, Ran and Shaw, General Fong,  Song , OCs, Chong, Lily, Mai, Azula, Ty Lee, Tom-Tom, Mai's Parents, Bumi, Gansu, Sela, Sensu, Toph Beifong, Toph Beifong's Parents, Lee, Jet's freedom fighters
Tags: Jet is crazy, Sokka's instincts, Season 1 Ep 10, Hurt Zuko, Captivity, Non-Graphic Violence, No pairings, Angst, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Zuko and the Gaang bonding, Avatar: The Deserter, Fire Nation, Canon Divergence, Friendship, Bending, Fire Days Festival, Fire Flakes, The Great Divide, yeah that episode, Canyons, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, Claustrophobia, Northern Water Tribe, Water Tribe(s), Fighting, Zuko does not like being locked up, Canon-Typical Violence, canon typical sexism, Badass Katara,  Just found that as a tag, That seems repetitve, Episode: s01e19-20 The Siege of the North, Pai Sho, the fortune tellerS1 Ep 14 The Fortune Teller, Sokka is dobtful, Zukos destiny, Basically a character, Ozai's A+ Parenting, Sokka and Zuko Friendship, Firebending  World, bending, Volcano, Avatar: S1 E12Avatar: The Storm, Boats and Ships, Backstory, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, The Blue Spirit, Atla: Season 1 Episode 13, Pohuai Stronghold, Yuyan archers, The Yuyan, Zuko doesn't know how to be good, but hes trying, the northern air temple, theatre nerd!zuko, Angry!Aang, Discussion of destoying relics, Destruction of the air temples, Hurt/Comfort, Bato of the Water Tribe, Daddy Issues, ice dodging, Pouting Aang, Discussions of dead parent, discussions of child abuse, The Avatar State, The Firebending Masters, yup, Two episodes in one,  Kinda, Dragons, Ozai's A+ Fire Lord-ing, Worldbuilding, Sun Warriors, Secret tunnel, season 2 episode 2The Cave of the Two Lovers, Zuko suffers as usual, White Jade Tea, ostrich-horses, Return to Omashu, Omashu, Discussion of contagious disease, Pentapox, The bumi box, Episode: s02e04 The Swamp, Episode: s02e07 Zuko Alone, Episode: s02e05 Avatar Day, Episode: s02e06 The Blind Bandit, The Swamp, Zuko kicks butt, Zuko Alone but he isnt alone, Episode: s02e08 The Chase, Pursuit, Slight Mai/Zuko, Girlfight, Tea, Blue Spirit, Sleep Deprivation, Arguing
Instinctual
Sokka's instincts had screamed at him ever since Jet showed his smarmy, smug, wheat chewing face, but without evidence he couldn't convince Katara and Aang to listen to him. Honestly, as time went on and he couldn't find anything to support his unease he started to doubt it himself.
Then Jet let him in on the Freedom Fighter's biggest secret.
Sokka should have known better than to ignore his instincts.
Divided Instincts
Part of the Instinctual Verse - Please read that first.
The last thing Zuko wants after years of being stuck in that cave is to see any more rocks. Unfortunately, he hadn't had luck since the day he's been born so here they were, staring at world's largest canyon.
Oh well, at least they're flying over it and he won't actually be surrounded by rock walls, right?
...right?
Instincts to Guide in the Storm
Maybe it's the possible impending doom.
Maybe it's the novelty of having someone to tell who might care.
Maybe it's just that kind of storm. The one that makes you want to curl up around a fire to tell stories, and he and Sokka aren't exempt from that even on a perilous ship.
Regardless of the reason, Zuko begins to tell the story that the Freedom Fighters never bothered to even ask about.
A Spirit’s Instincts
Aang should be the one taking care of a sick Katara and Sokka, not Zuko, but the airbender insisted that he be the one to find the medicine.
Now it's been hours, and Zuko is painfully aware that there is a Fire Nation Stronghold nearby that he hadn't been able to warn Aang about.
When the lights of Pohuai light up in victory, he knows without having to be told that Aang has been captured.
Now Zuko has a decision to make.
Could he allow his maybe-friend to be captured by the Fire Nation?
Or was he ready to be the traitor his father had branded him as.
A Fortune Teller’s Instincts
Zuko may be free from Jet, but he is struggling to earn the full trust of the Gaang.
More than that, he isn't sure what do do with his life now that he is no longer crown prince and is no longer facing a life in chains. He used to know his destiny, now he has no clue where his life should go.
Maybe the famous Aunt Wu will be able to help.
Bato’s Instincts
Katara still hates him.
Sokka is following some Water-Tribe-Father-Figure around with stars in his eyes.
Aang is pouting because his friends are paying more attention to the Water-Tribe-Father-Figure than him.
Oh, and there is a Water-Tribe-Father-Figure now. And Zuko has a wonderful track record with Fathers.
Overall, this is a /great/ time to be Zuko.
A Deserter’s Instincts
Part of the Instinctual Verse, please read that first.
It had been weeks since Sokka had freed Zuko from Jet's clutches, and Zuko... he still can't make a spark. He's spent every available moment in the sun, and while his chi is growing stronger, he can do no more than manipulate an existing flame. He's trying not to let on how... concerned he is, but since Sokka maintains that he's a 'terrible liar', he doesn't think it's particularly effective.
He knows that going to the Fire Days festival was probably a bad idea, after all there is a whole wall of wanted posters featuring them right outside the city wall. But honestly, if Zuko never made a bad decision, he'd never do anything, and he wants a taste of home so badly.
What's the worse that could happen?
The Instinct’s of the Airwalkers
Zuko wasn't sure what to think about the tales of modern day figures living and flying in the Northen Air Temple. His people are... thorough. He doesn't want to let Aang down, but he finds it hard to believe that anyone not stuck in an iceberg had escaped the eradication.
When he got to the temple, he hated being proven right. What's more, he hated seeing Earth Kingdom strangers destroying what little of Aang's heritage survived the attack of his people. But the day that the Fire Nation launches a second attack on this once idyllic temple, Zuko hates the most that he has to finally make a clear choice.
He'd thought he'd made this choice already, thought he'd made it several times over, but the question remains when he'd least like it to: Is he willing to fight against his Nation?
Cold Hard Instincts
Part of the Instinctual Verse, please read those first!
Zuko is glad that he had started getting his bending back before they hit the frigid North Pole, but it turns out that the Northern Water Tribe doesn't feel the same way.
They hadn't even gotten close to the city yet and he was half frozen in a block of ice, freezing and bound as his captors ignore Katara, Aang, and Sokka's protests. He really should have known something like this would happen, but as usual he'd underestimated his luck and now he had to come up with a way to convince the Northern Chief to allow a firebender to walk free in his village.
He HAD to, because he wasn't going to let himself become a prisoner. Not again.
The Instincts of the Sun Warriors
Zuko... may have been hasty, when he got on that raft instead of finding his friends and at least seeing if he needed to pull this disappearing act. It was day three of sitting of a raft in the middle of the ocean though, and a little too late for him to do anything about his regrets.
He had other stuff he could focus on, like perfecting the Dancing Dragon and trying to figure out why Uncle was steering them to the northern tip of the Fire Nation.
Meanwhile, the Gaang have left the North Pole and are on their way to pick up Bumi and round out the gaang, they just had to stop and talk to the General Fong guy first. This shouldn't lead to any complications, right?
The Instincts of Healers and Nomads
Zuko is, surprise surprise, on the run once again. At least this time he has Uncle, someone to watch his back and someone he can trust to know absolutely everything about his past, his identity.
Now he just has to find his friends before they do something stupid.
He isn't holding his breath.
Especially since apparently, Uncle is no better than him at identifying what plants are good to make tea out of, and which ones are poison.
Instincts in Omashu (not Bumi’s instincts)
Being on the run is bad enough, but at least they have an Ostrich Horse now. Unfortunately, that doesn't help them make money, and Zuko has to endure begging with Uncle on the streets and put up with jerks who swing swords at (seemingly) defenseless old men.
Or does he?
Meanwhile, the Gaang is braving a very different Omashu than they remember. Aang is faced with the realization that his last old friend had fallen to the Fire Nation, just like everyone else he had remembered. He does have new friends now though, and new promises. He told Zuko that he would remember that the Fire Nation soldiers were people too, and as much as he didn't want to, this was a good place to start.
Zuko’s Instincts
Zuko and the Gaang are separated.
Yes, Zuko knows that it's his fault. Now though, he is travelling with Uncle throughout the Earth Kingdom to find them, all while trying to avoid the sister hunting him down. The way is treacherous and littered with friends and enemies alike. The hot headed teen is faced time and time again with danger, both natural and born of his own making.
At least he isn't alone.
The Instincts of the Chased
Katara thought that Zuko was one of the most stubborn, heard headed people she'd ever meet.
Enter Toph Beifong.
Meanwhile Iroh is trying to figure out how to approach his nephew about his habit of running off alone, which would be easier to do if the younger firebender hadn't run off alone the instant he saw a bit of bison fur.
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Something Good {Otto Octavius x Reader One Shot}
Requested by: @thehoneybeast​ Wordcount: 1965 Summary: With a mentor like Otto, there’s no way that you’re ever giving up, on anyone or anything.
It was hard being a gifted child. Okay, maybe it was a strange thing to complain about, getting good grades and compliments all of the time. The scholarship to any university of your choosing hadn’t exactly been a bad thing either. But it was the fact that now that you were furthering your education, now that you were in classes with people who were at least as intelligent as you, probably even more so, it was killing your confidence. Everything that you came up with seemed to have already been done by your peers. Even though you had the support of your teacher, mentor, friendly figure Otto Octavius, it didn’t feel like you were enough. It didn’t feel like you belonged here. Maybe you should have stuck with some drivel program that you would have been ahead in just to feel ... normal.
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“Science is about pushing through borders, of what we already know,” He would often say to you. “Going beyond what is possible. How are you going to do that if you don’t keep up with your thinking? Don’t focus on what other people are doing. Do what you want to do. It’s your passion that brought you here in the first place.”
Easy for him to say, of course. He was absolutely brilliant. He was the only reason why you hadn’t actually dropped out of the program. He never gave up on you. That meant something. And it went beyond him wanting the tuition money, no, he gave you extra attention, even invited you out to dinner with him and some of his co-workers for passionate and intricate scientific conversations. That’s how you met Peter Parker, who became a good friend of yours. He was just as big a fan of Otto as you were.
You had gone to Otto’s demonstration with the intention of being inspired. You stood beside Peter, watching with wide-eyed interest as Otto was strapped into his device. Even if his wife was there, you couldn’t help but notice the strength in his body. Clad in a tank top rather than the lab coat. A wince from everyone else as needles injected themselves into the back of his neck, all up his spine but you watched as he bore it. Focus was all that could be seen in his dark brown eyes.
The prostheses started to move. Those octopus like appendages. All with the power of his mind. This alone was a scientific breakthrough. You and Peter both shared a look of awe as he started to explain what he was doing. But you had to admit - they were intimidating. Good god, you couldn’t even pay attention to what the reporters were asking. You were caught up in the magnificence of it all.
But then things started to go wrong. Things started to fly around the room as the light started to grow brighter between those metal snappers. Otto trying to convince everyone, including himself, that it was only a spike and it would soon stabilize. But even you could see that it was far, far, FAR from stable.
He looked over his shoulder at you first, his goggles now covering his eyes so you could not make out what he might have been thinking. Whatever fear he had was hidden. But you could feel that he was looking at you. And then he looked over at his wife. And then back in your direction to look at Peter.
“We should evacuate,” You said, reading between the lines. Things could get very bad. Very, very bad.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please clear the room!” A female voice overpowered all else. A hot wind went through the room, from the light. Alarms going off everywhere. Metal plates coming off of the walls and all. “There’s been a containment breach,” One of the other scientists alerted.
People were yelling. The energy source - it was going crazy. Even Harry was yelling at Otto. You were by the door, helping people to get out. Trying to keep them in a steady line. But your eyes were on the scientist the entire time. He was still under the illusion that he could get it under control.
But something else took your attention. Spiderman. Spiderman? He grabbed Harry, saved him from a rolling cart. You couldn’t stay much longer. Everything was getting crazy. But you had to make sure that Otto was okay. You were so reluctant to tear yourself away from the doorway.
“What are you doing?” Otto asked.
“Pulling the plug!” Spiderman announced. But one of those tentacles, whether it was in Otto’s control or not, shoved him out of the way. You gasped, seeing the superhero hurt on the ground. Glass shattered. Otto’s wife screamed. It was your turn to be shoved this time, Harry taking your arm and pulling you through the door.
“But Otto-” You said, using the professor’s first name.
“He’ll be fine, we gotta go!” Harry said. You didn’t know him as well as you knew Peter but you allowed him to guide you out. Something that you regretted as you later saw the news of what had happened.
----
He was in your kitchen.
You got back from classes, weary. A depression had been set upon you since the events of the big experiment, the demonstration. Mrs. Octavius was dead, Otto was - who knows where. People were looking for him. His body hadn’t been found so he didn’t die in the lab.
Clearly not.
For he was in your kitchen.
Eating a sandwich.
“Otto?” You asked, unsure if he was real or not. You were tired, you hadn’t been sleeping well since the event. The worry, the anxiety. It was keeping you up to late hours, tossing and turning in your bed. You couldn’t believe that he was just - out there, on his own.
“Y/N,” He said, the metal tentacles still behind him. They were going through your things. Opening drawers. And cupboards. One gently took a hold of a glass and pulled it down to the table. The other stuck a sharp pin into a cork on a bottle of wine and pulled it out. You blinked at all of it. This was hardly what you were expecting. “I thought out of everyone - you wouldn’t mind.”
“Mind what? You going through my kitchen?” You asked, watching as wine was poured into a glass. And then a second was taken. “I suppose not - I’m just happy to see you’re okay."
“Does this - look like I’m okay?" He asked. For the first time, you noticed that he had a very defeated look to him. His eyes. They were more puppy dog like than usual. Very kicked while already down. He had lost his wife. He lost control of his experiment. He was losing everything. Your statement did feel very foolish now.
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“No, I suppose not. Sorry,” You said, setting down your things and sat down at your small two-person dining room table. It was a miracle you even had an apartment, given your strict student budget but Otto here had helped you with scholarships and grants. Still, your furniture was all fourth or fifth hand, or picked up from the street. This table, these chairs included. But Otto was looking beyond that as he sat down as well, handing you a glass of wine. You took it. You sipped at it. You weren’t much of a connoisseur but it didn’t taste like the watered down stuff you were used to at parties so it was lovely. “What are you doing here, Otto? Everyone has been looking for you. And what you did at the bank, I -”
“I don’t want to talk about that. Not while I’ve got these few moments of clarity,” Otto said, brushing that all away. “That wasn’t me. I know that you of all people would understand. The neural transmitter - it broke during the explosion. I’ve figured out how to work with it, to be myself for a couple of minutes at a time but - Doc Ock, as they call me, will be back. And he’s going to keep hurting people. I need your help.”
“Anything,” You said, earnestly. “Whatever you need. A place to lie low? Or - or maybe I can get some things from your lab?”
Otto chuckled from his seat, and there was nothing sinister about it this time, not like what you had heard on the news. “No, you just continue on with your work. Just keep supporting me. Just keep knowing that I’m here, and don’t forget that. If just one person knows...” He stayed quiet for a moment, gazing off into space somewhere. “I have to go.”
“No, please,” You said, reaching for his large hands. He jumped at the contact, not expecting it. “I’ve been trying to figure out a way to fix the transmitter. I’m getting close. I know I’m not the best student in your class but - I think I can get it.”
“This is science, and as you can see, even the best make mistakes,” Otto said, solemnly. He squeezed your hand to your surprise. “Do not put yourself down - it is the different perspectives that make this field interesting."
You looked at your hand, and then you looked up at him, that face, it was just so Otto and not at all Doc Oc, but it was starting to turn in front of your eyes. He let go of you as soon as he possibly could. As if your hand was on fire. He was retreating. He was heading towards the door.
“Don’t go,” You said, eyes wide, reaching for him, but he took himself out of your grasp. A smile spread across his face, and there he was. The man that you had seen on television. The man that was not at all the Otto Octavius that you knew and that you adored. This was not the teacher that you had aspired to be.
“Thanks for the sandwich, y/n,” He said, shoving the last of it into his mouth, one of his claws opening the door as he backed himself up. Two of them were open towards you, showing the sharpness inside. They could grab you so easily. “You should hope that you don’t see me again.”
“I can’t do that,” You admitted to him. “I’ll see you again Otto, once I find a way to fix your transmitter.”
Even Doc Ock looked surprised by your words. They had come so close to getting stuck in your throat but they came out smoothly. Because you had meant them. And truth - truth should not be suppressed. But then he smiled again, and the door closed as he left.
You could hear him going down the hall, the claws aiding him along, the railing ripping - you could imagine it as the racket hit your ears.
There was nothing about Doc Ock on the news that night. You had curled up on your couch watching it. Waiting for any sort of breaking news that he had robbed a bank or was trying to bait out Spiderman. But there was nothing. The city was holding it’s breath, just waiting. You hoped that it had something to do with you. That maybe you had reached Otto and he was regaining control of himself. He had been lucid for that little while. God, you just hoped, hoped, hoped.
And until then, you’d just keep working, the tingling feeling lasting in your hand long after he had let go of it. You remembered the squeeze. The earnestness that he had shone. That was your inspiration. That was your motivation. That and his words, his appraisal, his belief. There were so many students that he could have gone to but he had come to you.
How could you ever feel insecure after that?
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admirableadmiranda · 3 years
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Debts and balances: or how much does one man have to pay over the course of his life?
Good morning everyone! Today we’re going to be talking about debts, and why Jiang Cheng needs to shut the fuck up on debts because he is the one in the wrong pretty much the entire time.
Let’s start by acknowledging that I am not of this culture so I may perhaps state a thing or two wrong, but I also have several functioning brain cells to rub together and I pay attention so I will probably be more right than most of the “hot takes” I see on why Jiang Cheng is not actually in the wrong here. Because he is. He so is.
So, debts. First of all, there are multiple levels and layers of debts and to whom do you owe them too. So let’s start with the first one where the story is subtle about it and yet both Jiang Cheng and Madam Yu are in the wrong. We know that Cangse Sanren saved Jiang Fengmian’s life at one point when they were young. Life debts are big. To only be alive because of someone else’s actions is a debt that it is possible you will never be able to pay back. There are multiple stories of otherwise good people protecting the obvious villain because they owe that.
Jiang Fengmian’s only way of being able to pay back that debt after Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze die is to take care of their child and raise him how they would have. I.E, as a cultivator. This is not a debt that Wei Wuxian owes to the Jiangs. It is quite literally, the least of what Jiang Fengmian owes him and his parents to do.
Jiang Cheng cannot claim that Wei Wuxian owes them for his life. He is wrong. 
Next debt that even Jiang Cheng does not try to claim, only his ever so pleasant stans, the fucking dogs. The fucking dogs that he does not actually give a fuck about. 
Wei Wuxian does not ask anyone to do anything about the dogs. He is not in a mental state to. He is in a state of triggered phobia where his brain literally goes into run away screaming mode. This is also not funny and Jiang Cheng is a jackass for making fun of it whenever it happens. Jiang Fengmian is the one who decides that it’s better for the dogs to go. Even though Jiang Cheng is upset, he does not actually hold this as a lingering grudge against Wei Wuxian. He lets it the fuck go. And even if he didn’t, the resentment and anger should be aimed at the person who actually made a decision about it. Not Wei Wuxian. He does not give one singular fuck about his dogs later on. Let the fucking dogs go.
Third off: The Fall of Lotus Pier. There are different levels of blame that we can lay on this. Wei Wuxian is not close to responsible for this. Jiang Cheng knows this and elects to blame him anyway.
The first people we can lay the blame on the fall of Lotus Pier is the Wens, who came with ships, warriors, Wang Lingjiao to rile up the notoriously short tempered asshole Madam Yu, and Wen Zhuliu the Core-Melting Hand. They came prepared for battle and they got what they wanted. Madam Yu is the second one we can lay the blame on, for deciding to attack and demean Wang Lingjiao, not for making her do anything she didn’t want to do, because holy hell did she want to whip Wei Wuxian until he couldn’t move and leapt at the chance to do such a thing, but because Wang Lingjiao is a servant who was elevated by her lover and Madam Yu is a classist asshole. This is the only reason she flips out. Wei Wuxian did nothing wrong. Wei Wuxian does not have the blood of Lotus Pier on his hands, he is tied to Jiang Cheng and told to protect him at the cost of his life, a debt he does not owe. 
The four debt he attempts to claim, the only one that might be considered to have some teeth if it weren’t for how much Wei Wuxian gives him back almost immediately. Jiang Cheng goes to distract the Wens from Wei Wuxian and ends up getting captured and losing his golden core. So first off, in this world a golden core is a lot to lose, I won’t deny that. But, first off, Wei Wuxian is only in danger because after being whipped a lot, then strangled, then having to run after Jiang Cheng multiple times because he would rather go die at Lotus Pier than listen to either of his parents and escape, he still goes into town to get them something to eat because otherwise Jiang Cheng would rather lie on the ground and die. Fucking great sect leadership there, huh Jiang Cheng? But yes, Jiang Cheng sees the Wens, sees them notice Wei Wuxian, goes off to distract them and then gets captured and loses his golden core.
Now we’re getting to some of the debts that Jiang Cheng owes and refuses to pay back, because that’s definitely going to get him far in this world. Wei Wuxian in his panic and attempt to find Jiang Cheng, finds Wen Ning, who after some struggles manages to convince him that he can sneak in and get Jiang Cheng back out. In addition, he also retrieves the bodies of Madam Yu and Jiang Fengmian. This is huge. Jiang Cheng now owes him both a life debt for again, saving his life at great cost to his own: Wen Ning is literally committing treason here, and also for restoring the lost honor of not being able to bury his parents properly. Wen Ning gives them a proper burial and later after the war he is able to lie them to rest in the Ancestors Hall so their spirits will be at peace and he will have fulfilled his fillial duties. By all means, the debt he owes Wen Ning in particular is so great that he should have taken in every Wen in those camps and sheltered them because it is as close as he will ever get to repaying that debt. And that’s just Wen Ning!
The next debt he owes and refuses to pay is to Wen Qing, a genius doctor and respected by Wen Ruohan, who uses the prestige and skills she has to protect both him and Wei Wuxian in at this point enemy territory when they are being actively searched for, being the new sect leader and head disciple of Yunmeng Jiang. She hides them and then later uses her skills to give him a new golden core so that he can go and fight back against his people, revitalizing his clan and eradicating hers. This is another debt that could only really be paid back by protecting her people if she came to him. He owes her literally his life, his power and his people.
The third debt he owes and refuses to pay is to Wei Wuxian, who more than overbalances the scales back in his favor by giving him his golden core. He pays his chance at immortality, his power, his strength, his cultivation, everything that he has to his name so that Jiang Cheng won’t starve himself to death over losing his core. In addition, he tells Jiang Cheng that this comes from a once in a lifetime favor from his mother’s master so even before when he didn’t know about the core, this is still a massive, massive debt, a limitless one time favor from an immortal that he uses Wei Wuxian’s chance to get and never actually thanks him. So at this point, his own golden core as a debt starts to seem a little hollow. Either way, it’s been repaid. An action you do in service of someone else is not a weapon you get to hold over their heads for multiple lives.
Moving on! The next debt he would like to claim is that Wei Wuxian apparently has no right to do things he does not approve of. Excuse me? Is he now a computer program that crashed? What the fuck Jiang Wanyin? Wei Wuxian has less rank than him, although Jiang Cheng is so high rank in this society that he only shares his rank with three other people and there’s no one above him so it would be very hard for him to not be, but he is still a person, with his own thoughts, wishes, dreams, hopes and beliefs. He is not an extension of your hand, to make your clan look good and stand behind you as a hammer to smash on people. Wen Qing goes to Wei Wuxian to ask for help for finding her brother, her people because they are literally being tortured to death. This is a debt that by all means, Jiang Cheng should be repaying. See that part where Wen Ning committed treason to help him and restore his family’s honor? See that part where Wen Qing literally gave him the ability to go back to war against her family? This is the point where anyone with honor would recognize this is the only thing I can do. I will throw myself on my sword if I must, but I must repay this debt to them. There is nothing less I can do. But Jiang Cheng has only the honor of a mangy cur and ignores this, and when Wei Wuxian goes to fulfill this debt, he tells him to stop. To him, his multiple life debts are an inconvience to shoving his nose so far up Jin Guangshan’s ass that he’s tasting what he had for dinner that day.
The next debt that he would like to claim is the death of his brother in law. This is a debt that Wei Wuxian would owe to specific people. This debt is to Jiang Yanli, Jin Guangshan and Jin Ling, one of whom is wanting to forgive it, one who is too small to decide at the time, and one who straight up does not give a fuck beyond advancing his power. Jiang Cheng is not one of these people. His sister is fine, she’s not his concern anymore, she’s a part of the Jin sect. The only reason why he died is that Jiang Cheng decided the best way to repay his debt to Wei Wuxian was to throw a temper tantrum and declare him an enemy to everyone, ripping out every support from under his feet. Regardless, Jiang Cheng is an asshole and does not get to claim this debt.
The final one of Wei Wuxian’s first life that he keeps hurling at him is the death of his sister...the death of his sister who chose to leap between Wei Wuxian and a sword. The death of his sister at a battle that broke out because Jiang Cheng has been with Jin Guangshan whipping the cultivation world into a frenzy against the Wens and Wei Wuxian because of power and jealousy. The battle that would have not happened if they’d left them alone. Jiang Cheng has been to the burial mounds. He has seen the farmers, he has seen the baby there. He has decided that rather than do anything to repay these various deaths, he will kill them on other people’s swords instead. Because he is also a coward and won’t pick fights he can’t win. In addition he likes to steal Yanli’s agency, she’s the one who chose to come, she’s the one who chose to get in the way and she doesn’t die with regrets. And she is not his debt to claim. Again, the one who actually gets to claim this death that Wei Wuxian is not responsible for is Jin Ling, who actually shapes up and decides that it doesn’t matter, he doesn’t blame Wei Wuxian for it. He forgives him his role in that space and moves the fuck on, unlike a certain sir stabby grape mcwhipinnoencts.
And then Wei Wuxian dies and any debts he may have still owed to Jiang Cheng, not that there were any, die with him. Jiang Cheng has no claim on him, he was not part of his sect, they were not brothers in any way, indeed Jiang Cheng called him his enemy. Even most people with far more real grudges at this point would let it go. Wei Wuxian is so dead that no one can find his soul, no matter how hard they look. He comes back to life and reaps the rewards of his actions, finding new allies, getting the chance to actually interact with Jin Ling and make his apologies, and in the end, settle down to a peaceful life with an adoring husband and nothing left to be repaid. If there is still a debt he owes, it is only to Mo Xuanyu, who gave up his entire cycle of life to let Wei Wuxian reincarnate early with his memories, a sacrifice he only asked for repayment in the death of his family. He may owe more still, but that is all Mo Xuanyu wanted from him in repayment for this great sacrifice. The cultivation world is in the wrong when they’re trying to persecute him again for the actions of his previous life, he owes them nothing anymore. The debts he carries towards Jin Ling are the ones he chooses to take on, feeling guilty that he grew up without his parents due to the world’s general actions and also no one else taking responsibility for how far things fell. 
That is what Jiang Cheng finally realizes in the temple, crouched on the floor and sobbing like a spoiled child over the golden core sacrifice. Is that he is in the wrong and has been in the wrong the whole time. That there is nothing he can hold onto, no debt that Wei Wuxian ever owed him that he could demand to be paid. He built it all up in his head as he left his honor, his family and his dignity in the wake of his arrogance. And it’s a painful thing to realize, the consequences of your decisions, but all he can do is live with his own ruined reputation, his own loneliness and the fact that no one wants to be around him. He’s blacklisted by multiple matchmakers, his disciples are more like thugs, Wei Wuxian chooses every opportunity to get away from him and even Jin Ling likes him less and less over the course of the book, not forgetting that he seems to prefer Jin Guangyao to begin with as he actually talks to him sometimes and doesn’t hit him. Jiang Cheng refusing to pay his debts gives him exactly what a debt deserter deserves. No one has a reason to trust him. The one bit of positive character growth he does is giving up and not trying to reel him back in by telling him of the sacrifice. At this point, all it would be is just him trying to get another debt he cannot hold because it is long since repaid, never quite made up for what they gave him to make up for it, and worthless in the face of Wei Wuxian’s new life. Wei Wuxian owes him nothing and never has.
Also, just to tally up the relationship between Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng on things given between the two of them, Jiang Cheng gives him: a lot of whinging on how unfair it is that Wei Wuxian is a prodigy, and a one time immediately regretted and held over his head sacrifice of a golden core. Whereas Wei Wuxian gives him: many lessons on how to be a kinder person that he ignores, the patience and tolerance of his stinkbug attitude, his love, his affection, his fucking golden core, his reputation, his blood, his livelihood, taking over his debts, trying to keep any of his actions from reflecting on the Jiangs even though if Jiang Cheng had repaid any of the debts he owed, there would have been no problems because if the Jin’s did decide to attack, Wei Wuxian would fight back and he can level battle fields on his own, his honor, his relationships, and even his life in the end, because if Wei Wuxian had ever turned on him like he claimed, he would have been a bloody smeared spot on the ground. And Jiang Cheng gobbles this all up and demands more with Wei Wuxian’s blood and tears dribbling from his mouth. 
Would you give that much for someone who doesn’t treat you well? Would you find that a reasonable price to pay for someone who demeans you at every opportunity, who tells you you deserve your misfortunes and that no one likes you? Why are you surprised that in the end Wei Wuxian would rather walk away with people who care about him, why he gives up, leaves any opportunity for anything in Jiang Cheng’s hands. Wei Wuxian has given more than any person should for almost nothing. It is a sign of triumph and victory, of recognizing his own worth and value in the world and who he wants to be with, that he leaves, that he walks away with his head held high. He owes Jiang Cheng nothing, and Jiang Cheng will just have to fucking live with that.
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piecksz · 3 years
Note
animeverse where eren is still in his cell and hange+others have an idea of bringing ina girl to fuc to 'loosen him up' so he can give info,hange has studies n research to back this up they bring you dressed scantily to go be his whore he knows why ur there n hates u so hes mean and ignores ur advances eventually he hate fucks u w his anger being directed at u from his situation choking xtreme degrading just being rough in general MEAN SERIOUS EREN NO FLUFF OR LOVE
catalyst
eren yeager x reader
warnings: nsfw, roughness, mentions of breeding, degredation, choking, explicit language
a/n: this is my first prompt request n i was vvvv nervous so pls go easy on me ok ok i hope i did your vision justice
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“As romantic as this reunion is, it’s not a date, we need answers.” Levi’s words were austere, ricocheting off the passage walls as the three of you traveled deeper below ground. “He’s still a shitty-ass teenager. Hopefully isolation has made him desperate enough for female contact.”
You said nothing, and instead your eyes looked around fretfully. The chamber was inhospitable, forged from naked rock adorned with smoldering torches. Your minimal attire was inapt in its frigid ambience, so you walked clung to yourself, arms wrapped around your bare shoulders to retain as much body heat as you possibly could.
“Are you sure this is gonna work?” Levi questioned Hange, keeping his attention forward. He maneuvered through the sharp turns of the labyrinth, which gave you the impression he’d had many experiences down in the cells with his comrades.
Hange released a tremulous sigh. “It doesn’t matter. We’re out of options.” Their nervous tone had them looking over their shoulder, reassuring you with a placid smile. The gesture was thoughtful, considering it had felt like you’d been a third party to their strategic and undivided conversation, but it did nothing to soothe your hesitancy.
Levi and Hange had tracked you down and invited you to meet with them, urgently explaining that they needed your help with debriefing Eren after his insubordination and his blitz on Marley. He’d refused to disclose any further information about his conduct to anyone in the military, not even Mikasa and Armin, his closest confidants. So Hange suggested bringing in someone unbiased, someone not in the military to ruse more details out of Eren.
You were their prime choice after hearing how you and Eren had met when the Anti-Marleyan volunteers had arrived on Paradis. You’d been one of the several civilian volunteers that had helped with affairs and military proceedings at the port. There you’d met Eren and quickly forged a friendship, although Eren’s friends could have sworn there was more between you two than you would have liked to admit.
You weren’t sure why you agreed to their proposal. Perhaps it was your readiness to help the military in their righteous endeavors, or maybe it was for a different reason. Perhaps you were driven by your own selfishness. You wanted to see Eren again, even under the strange circumstances.
Eren’s cell was at the end of the corridor. Once Hange let out an abrupt “we’re here” your lips carried an eager smile, but your expression quickly faltered once you stepped forward and caught a glimpse of him in his cell. Even with the arrival of visitors, Eren kept his head forward while he sat on his bed, one arm balanced on his knee.
“Nice of you guys to pay me another visit. I’m starting to think you just miss me.” Eren’s voice was deep. So much deeper than you remembered. How long had it been? You couldn’t do the math.
“You know you’re our favorite problem child.” Levi responded humorlessly. He stepped aside for Hange to slip the key in the lock, and with one turn the door was swung open. “Don’t look so agitated. We brought you a gift.”
You made no efforts to step out from behind Hange and Levi, but Eren could see you clearly enough. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but maybe it was foolish of you to envision Eren slipping out of his troubled temper the moment you two saw each other again. Realistically, it never would have been that easy. Eren’s face remained hard, if anything it looked like seeing you made him even angrier.
Hange’s hand found its way onto your shoulder, supportive, but reminding you of the reason why you were there.
You shuffled forward, heels loud against the granite cobblestone. Darkness swallowed you as you crept in further, and you flinched at the sound of the heavy door being shut and secured behind you. Looking over your shoulder, your heart began racing at the sight of solid metal bars separating you from the outside.
“Let’s give them some space,” Levi suggested, stepping back from the cell.
Hange’s mouth opened to protest, but they were discouraged by Levi’s strong grip on their ear.
“We’ll be waiting outside if you need us, Y/N.” Levi announced through Hange’s squalls of pain. He gave you a comforting nod before his eyes drifted to Eren, and his expression toughened again. “Don’t try anything. Screams echo down here.” He paused and then turned on his heel to leave, tugging Hange’s ear before releasing it from his hold.
You watched nervously as the two of them disappeared behind the wall.
Hange’s voice was heard again further down the hall. “That hurt a lot, you know.”
It was the last remark you heard from the pair before you heard the door to the corridor close, and then worry flooded your system like it was on an intravenous drip. The Eren you were convinced you were meeting was replaced by someone you weren’t sure you knew, and suddenly you felt unsafe being alone with him, but you held an obligation to Levi, Hange, and the rest of the military that needed the information they expected you to gather.
You walked slowly, feigning a gentle smile to masquerade as though you were happy. It hurt to know that it was something you had to fake. You sat at the edge of Eren’s bed and took note as he made no efforts to shift away. That had to have been a positive sign.
“You look different,” you chuckled. “I like it.” The weak blaze from the burning torches casted a menacing shadow onto Eren’s stolid face. In the half light of the cell he appeared much older. You reached a hand out to brush away the loose wisps of hair that decorated his face, but your movement was stopped by Eren’s unyielding grip around your wrist.
You jumped, surprised at his roughness.
“Do you honestly think you can outsmart me?” His words were bitter.
You looked at Eren with wide, stunned eyes before blinking quickly and trying to laugh off your clear fright.
“What are you talking about?” You brought your unrestrained hand to his jawline, fingers tracing the shape of his face until your touch met the broad span of his chest, and then you felt gutsy enough to slip your fingers under the fabric of his shirt. “You’ve been down here too long. Not everyone’s your enemy, Eren.”
Your fingers wandered far enough until they met the defined curve of his collarbone and the robust muscle of his chest, but the moment was fleeting, interrupted by the jolt of Eren shoving you backwards. You fell off the bed and teetered, momentarily losing your balance.
“It’s pitiful that you’re letting them use you as a pawn.” Eren’s words were sharp, but venom in his words were bearable compared to the resentment behind his eyes.
He knew. He was smart, you should have known he would catch on. You created distance between yourself and Eren.
“What? They’re not using me as a pawn.” Your voice was unsteady. “I promise Eren, I have no idea what you’re talking about, but you can help me understand if you just—”
“Then why are you here?” Eren rose from his bed to begin closing the distance you created, and your body began to quiver with dread.
You continued inching backwards until your tailbone collided with the edge of the cell’s sink, and you latched onto it with a sweaty grip.
“I’d rather be a pawn than be driven to do terrible things out of my own free will!” You had no choice but to admit what he already knew, and in seconds Eren’s hands were strung tightly around your wrists while he trapped your body against the sink.
“I’m sorry,” you apologized quickly, blinking back tears. You searched for something past his eyes, just a modicum of vulnerability to at least let you know there was a person behind the Eren you were speaking to, but the once fiery hues of green and blue in his irises were now frosted to an unremarkable grey. If it was true that eyes were the window to the soul, Eren was truly void.
“Please let go.” You pleaded and writhed in his grip. “Eren, seriously let go. You’re hurting me.”
“I don’t expect someone like you to understand.” Eren’s face showed nothing but malevolence.
“Someone like me?”
Eren pushed you back further into the sink until you bit back a shrill cry. “Someone that’s never had to make any sacrifices.”
Tear after tear did nothing to ease Eren’s painful hold, and as obvious as it was that he was hurting you, he remained unconcerned.
“Who are you?” You shook your head. “This isn’t the Eren I know.”
“Then your first mistake was thinking that you ever knew me.”
Eren’s words were somber, but he moved swiftly, and in seconds he tore you from the sink and had you pinned up against the wall, it’s jagged surface digging uncomfortably into your cheek. His mouth hovered by your ear, and when he spoke his breath fanned over the side of your face.
“Scream and I’ll break you.”
So you said nothing as Eren’s knee slid in between your legs, parting them far enough so that he could press his thigh to your cunt. His hands retired from holding your arms behind your back, and they traveled to your ass, riding up the fabric of your dress until it was on full display.
“This is nice.” His voice was condescending as tugged on your dress's short hem. “They did a good job at making you look—,” Eren delivered a sharp spank to the exposed skin then he ran his hand over the area searing with pain, “—like a whore.”
You took your bottom lip between your teeth to stifle a wail as Eren’s palm collided with your backside. He slipped a wicked finger under the thin material of your underwear and dipped his touch down between your thighs to stroke your folds through the cloth.
“Why are you shaking?” Eren used his free hand and slid it around your neck, gently at first, but you knew he wasn’t averse to tightening his grasp. “I thought this was all part of your plan.”
It had been, but your tremors weren’t the result of fear alone. You were scared out of your wits knowing that Eren had no reservations about harming you, and the thought shouldn’t have been as enticing as it was, but the combination of not knowing how he would choose to have his way with you had you feeling hot.
Your words were muffled through sobs, and your dazed mind didn’t make things easier, so all you could do was nod, which solicited a dry scoff from Eren. He hooked his finger around the fabric of your underwear and tugged it aside forcefully before parting your folds.
You released a feeble moan, and you could feel your knees buckling. If it weren’t for his tight grip, you were certain you would have collapsed. “Eren…”
“You’re wet already,” he said scornfully. Two fingers rubbed your clit mercilessly before slipping down to tease your entrance. “Acting scared meanwhile the whole time you were fucking dripping at the thought of me touching you like this. I don’t have to tell you how pathetic that is.”
Your breathing grew more labored at the anticipation of Eren’s long fingers entering you, pumping in and out of your hole while he ridiculed you for how desperately you tightened around his fingers, but you inhaled sharply when his touch disappeared.
Instead you felt Eren wipe your arousal on the inside of your thigh, and you had no time to question his behavior. A pitiful cry of surprise left your mouth as he grabbed the back of your neck, forcibly pulling you off the wall before throwing you in the direction of his bed.
“Move,” he commanded.
You staggered, looking back at him in alarm, but observed his directive without sacrificing any more time. Once you reached his bed, Eren followed closely behind, waiting until your back met the mattress to cage you in under his intimidating frame, and it then became clear that he held no other resolve than to use you for his own satisfaction. He disregarded your discernable ache and began unbuttoning his pants, pushing them down along with his briefs in one haste motion.
Eren’s large cock was already half-thickened with beads of precum glistening at its crown. He brought his palm to his mouth and spat in it before grabbing himself in the large curve of his hand to pump his length in preparation. He ran his tip up and down your folds, taking pleasure in the way you squirmed every time it prodded your tender clit, and then without warning he drove his cock into you, kindling a fervid cry that rose from the pit of your stomach and tore through your throat.
The sound echoed off the walls of the concrete box before ebbing into silence. Eren’s eyebrows creased in irritation while he looked down at you, and you suddenly harked back to his threat. You threw a quivering hand over your mouth, and shook your head, spluttering out a fragmented apology.
“I—Eren—I—I’m sorry…”
Yet he took no heed, and he began thrusting in and out of you, rocking back just to slam his hips into yours, over and over again until an uncomfortable pain grew from deep inside you and diffused over the span of your pelvis. All you could do was swallow your wails while your palm did it’s best efforts to smother your pleas. Fat tears ran down your cheeks and soaked into the sheets; your agony was hard to hide.
“Stop crying,” Eren barked through grunts. He pressed his hand to the hollow of your neck, fingers digging into your fleeting pulse. “You said yourself you have no problem being used.”
Sweaty fingers clutched his forearm, and you struggled against his dominance, breaths growing more and more shallow in an effort to conserve the air you were quickly losing.
He grabbed your wrists and held them together, pinning them to the mattress above your head with one hand.
“Maybe I should put a baby in you, then you’ll understand why what I’m doing is our last resort.”
Eren arched an eyebrow, but when you said nothing and only looked at him with glossy eyes a disdainful laugh slipped past his lips. He continued fucking himself deep into you, watching the way your body lurched with his movement, and then you felt his cock pulsate inside you.
It served as wordless notice that Eren was close, especially since he made no efforts to warn you. His eyes shut tightly, jaw hung slack while his groans intensified, and then he was cumming inside you, his hot seed flooding your walls as he claimed you.
You wound your eyes shut too, dark mascara-tainted tears staining your cheeks while you felt Eren thrusting through his high, making sure he had jettisoned every drop of his cum into you before he pulled himself out and wiped the creamy, white liquid that glazed his cock on the inside of your thigh.
“And when you report back, why don’t you tell them—” As if it were nothing he eased his weight off of you, taking a seat on the bed beside your shuddering body while he tucked himself back into his pants. “‘I let him fuck me pregnant because I’m a whore.’”
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blessednereid · 3 years
Text
Pity the Living
Daniel Sharman x Reader Series
A/N: The Much Requested, and By Requested, I mean @rogershoe wanted me to write this, MY DANIEL SHARMAN FANFICTION!!!!!! The character that Y/N plays is based on my OC for FTWD and is not an actual character in FTWD. Basic Premise of the setting for this chapter is that they're in high-school/ secondary school. But for the majority of the story(minus flashbacks) it's set in 2016/17 when s3 of FTWD was filmed.
Story Summary: When (Y/N) (L/N) reunites with a high-school friend on the set of the job she's been working on for the past 2-3 years, not only is she excited to work with the guy who inspired her to go into acting, but to hear about what he's done since she's seen him. But the more they talk, the more she realizes, this reunion is not going the way she had planned.
CW: Cursing? brief mention of alcohol, anxiety, mentions of food, fake dagger, fake blood, bets,
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Career Day
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Most of the students around you were chorusing to the tune of your school anthem, but not you. You had heard the melody and sung it almost a million times. Whether you were exaggerating or not, not even you knew. Instead, you were whispering and laughing with one of your best friends, Daniel Sharman.
You met Daniel when you first came to the school. You didn't know many people. You didn't even know yourself in this place. It was a completely foreign experience, but he stuck by your side and showed you around.
Since then, you had made friends, joined the swim team, learned your way around the school without ending up in the boys' restrooms instead of the girls' ones. Despite not needing Daniel to show you around anymore, he still provided plenty of comedic support and pick-me-ups and was a great mate all around.
Your teacher had just finished introducing all the parents who were presenting at career day. The assignment being after the presentations were finished, you were supposed to think about what you wanted to be in the future. You had no idea what you wanted to be. But of course… Daniel did.
"An actor."
"An actor?" he nodded. "Like Macbeth?"
"No, Macbeth is a character. An actor is a person who plays the character."
"Why an actor?"
"Dunno. Just seems right."
You frowned. "Huh, that's nice. Knowing what you want to be."
"You could always try acting. It's worth a shot."
"Hah, if I ever tried acting, it would probably be when I'm old, senile, and look like Betty White."
"Oh, come on. You're a great actress!"
"What's that supposed to mean, Sharman?" you gasped.
"Just that you tell fibs and stories as if they were the truth. That's all acting is."
"I DO NOT!"
"How did you convince your mum that your dog jumped onto the table and ate the cake without making any noise last weekend, then?" You opened your mouth to speak before closing it.
"Cat got your tongue?" he teased.
"Shut up, Sharman."
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L/N Residence
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You and Daniel were both swimming in the pool in your backyard when Daniel asked you the question.
"Did you think about it?"
Still floating, you asked, "About what?"
"Acting."
You laughed incredulously. "You were serious?"
"Of course I was." He swam closer to you and pulled your leg down, making you flop around and splash water.
"WHAT THE HELL!"
"Was just trying to get your attention," he remarked innocently.
You coughed. "You had it."
"Picture this," he waved you off. "Us, on the red carpet-"
"Who's red carpet?"
"Does it matter? We'll be each other's dates anyways."
"Why is that?" you asked.
"Because we're best friends."
"What if one of us has a boyfriend or girlfriend?"
He shrugged. "Ok, whatever. We're on the red carpet separately. It's both of ours red carpet-"
"So, does that mean we're in a movie together?"
"Yes, Y/N," he muttered exasperatedly.
"But that's impossible?"
"Why do you say that?"
You leaned closer to his ear. "BECAUSE I'M NOT BECOMING AN ACTOR."
He jumped away from you, proceeding to splash you with water.
"Mark my words. I know talent when I see it."
You sighed. "Could this just be you not wanting to be lonely in the acting world?"
He jutted his lip and spoke in a whiny voice. "Maybe…"
You laughed before splashing a giant wave of water at him. While he still had water in his eyes, you dove under and pulled him down.
He flailed around before his head popped up, and he calmed down.
"WHAT THE HELL!"
"PAYBACK, SHARMAN!"
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Announcement
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The intercom gave a heavy buzz, and static-y noises ran amok over the building before a voice actually came through the speakers.
"Hello, Teachers, Students, and Faculty. Welcome back to school. We hope that you all enjoyed your holidays and got the rest you needed to pay attention in class today," the last part was passive. Your principal gave more announcements for clubs and sports around the school, such as upcoming games or reminders for students to buy the school yearbook.
You were nodding along interested, or looking for interest really when something caught your best friend's attention.
"The school will also be hosting its first-ever play, Romeo and Juliet. Interested people should report to the music room before the end of the week to receive information."
You saw Daniel's eyes widen only moments before he spoke up. "Hey," he waved at you. "You should audition!"
"Daniel, are you insane?"
He chuckled, "No, but I think you'd like it."
You tried arguing, but he wasn't taking no for an answer. "You're the one who said you didn't know what you wanted to do after you graduated. Doing this cannot hurt."
"Yeah, it can't hurt until I trip on my costumes and break my neck!"
"That rarely ever happens," he said exasperatedly. "Ok, how about this? You audition, and if you end up getting a role and actually doing the play, I'll give you fifty pounds."
You squinted. "Do you even have fifty pounds to give me?"
"Do you even have to ask," he feigned shock in the accusation? You gave a sour face before he truthfully answered. "Fine, I don't have it now. But I will by the time the play comes around."
"What do I get just for auditioning?"
"I'll convince my mum to make that cake you like."
"Fine."
"BUT!" he exclaimed. "You have to audition for Juliet."
"You're kidding?"
He laughed. "No, I'm not. You have to audition for Juliet."
"I hate you," you mumbled before sighing a whispered 'fine.'
He gave a toothy smile. "Then we have a deal."
☆◦ 。\|/。◦☆
Auditions
☆◦ 。/|\。◦☆
You reluctantly walked onto the stage, Daniel's widening grin so visible in the audience. He said that he only put his name on the audition sheet so he could watch the auditions. He would've already been gone by the time it was his turn.
"Hello, My name is Y/n L/n, and I am auditioning for Juliet," your lips pressing into a straight line after saying the sentence.
You stammered through your first few lines. "Sh-Shall I speak ill of him— that is my husband?" You said with a laugh.
"Ah," you paused and clicked your tongue. "Poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name… When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it?"
You said your following line in an accusatory manner. "But wherefore, villain... didst thou kill my cousin?" you said, though your voice squealed trying to pronounce 'didst.' "That villain cousin would have killed my husband."
"Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring!" Your voice rose and fell several octaves. "Your tributary drops belong to woe, Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy." Fake tears spring to your eyes, your voice cracked, and you began slowly falling against an invisible wall.
You looked down at your paper for what to say next. "My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain; And Tybalt's dead, that would have slain my husband. All this is comfort; wherefore weep I then?" You wiped your cheeks dramatically.
"Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death, That murd'red me. I would forget it fain;" your lips quivered, and you sucked in deep, heaving breaths before speaking your line.
"But O, it presses to my memory. Like damnèd guilty deeds to sinners' minds! 'Tybalt is dead, and Romeo--banishèd!" You shouted.
You stood back up in a startling jump, and with a proud smile, you said triumphantly, "And Scene!"
The directors and some students in the audience, especially Daniel, gave a round of applause before the director dismissed you.
You took the steps to the stage and sat next to Daniel as the director called the next student to audition.
"You were amazing! The director might as well have given you the role right then and there."
You laughed, "Hang on, charmer. There were a bunch of Juliet's who literally said that entire thing so… fluently. I stammered through the whole thing."
"But you showed more emotion than anyone else. You only had a week to prepare. The actual show will be like child's play."
"They want people who can memorize and recite. The emotion can be added later, but it's worth nothing if they forget their lines."
"There is such a thing called improvising for a reason," he reassured.
"Who in their right, bloody minds wants to improvise Shakespeare?"
He turned his head and chuckled before waving a five-pound note in front of your face. "Here, I got to go before they call me, but you earned this at least."
"Five pounds for being forced to audition for a stupid play so you can prove a point? Wow, you must really fancy me, huh, Sharman?" you said sarcastically.
"Goodbye, L/n," he whispered before sneaking out the back door of the auditorium.
"Alright, next up. Daniel Sharman!" The director shouted your friend's name a few more times before giving up.
☆◦ 。\|/。◦☆
Headmasters Office
☆◦ 。/|\。◦☆
A week after your audition, you were called to the headmasters' office. Thus is the cause of the curious looks from your classmates. Oohs and Aahs flooded your ears as you grabbed your bag and headed out the door to the front of the school.
When you got to the front of the building and went into the headmasters' office, you saw the Theatre director, Ms Parker, standing behind the desk. "Headmaster Leo allowed me to use his office to do this. Isn't that cool?"
Ms Parker was one of the younger teachers in school. She was twenty-four, and this was her first year teaching after receiving her bachelor's degree in education and a master's degree in music production. A fact she could astoundingly ramble about for fifteen minutes. As proven at the auditions.
"I didn't want to call you to the theatre room. That would be too predictable, correct?" You'd come to realize she was a very eccentric woman. "I have called you in here to inform you that you have been selected to perform in this year's play of Romeo and Juliet."
A wave of shock coursed through your body, and you were sure it reflected on your face. "Are you sure?"
"Darling, I'm positive!- your audition was totally spectacular! So brilliant-in fact- that I am completely sure in my choice to make you our female lead- Juliet!"
"What!" Your eyes widened into a blank stare. Your thoughts were running rampant in your mind. You thought that performing on the stage would be a breeze when you weren't the lead.
"Ms Parker, I didn't actually want the part of Juliet! It's just that my friend dared me to audition for Juliet! Is there no way I can get a smaller part? I'm no Juliet. The show would be ruined," you rambled.
The directors' facial expressions softened, "Darling, you are the only choice. None of the other people who auditioned can even compare to the amount of passion you produced in that audition. I am determined to have you as our Juliet."
You whimpered out an "Ok." Professors had a strange way of convincing you to do extra credit assignments or things that aren't necessary.
"We have a chemistry read for you and a few of our other choices for Romeo after school today. Do you need to contact a parent to let them know where you'll be?"
"Uh, yes, please."
After you made your call, you walked back to your classroom with shaky hands. The class period was almost over, but you had to tell Daniel that you had gotten a part in the show. Not just any part- THE PART!
You shuffled into the classroom reluctantly. All eyes were on you as every student had assumed you'd been in trouble. Either suspended, expelled, or told your parents were going to have a sit-down with the headmaster.
You took your seat next to Daniel before taking out a piece of paper and writing out a note, encompassing the words, "I got the part!"
You slid the sheet discreetly onto his desk. When he read it, his eyes widened, and he quietly moved his hands toward yours, beckoning for a high five.
☆◦ 。\|/。◦☆
First Rehearsal
☆◦ 。/|\。◦☆
After the chemistry read, the role of Romeo was given to a kid named James Mercer-Allen got the part. Though it was more because the directors were starting to become tired.
The next day was the first rehearsal. Swimming season was last semester, so there was no clash in schedules with the play.
"Alright, this rehearsal is to get acquainted with the stage, your fellow actors, and directors," she insisted. "Now, let's introduce ourselves. Can our Romeo please stand up?"
James stood up and gave a brief introduction. You were called on next. You stated your name, "I was on the swim team last semester, and I'm in my thirteenth year. I hope I can do this role justice."
More students stood up to introduce themselves. The entire process took more than thirty minutes.
The next thing to happen was that the rest of the students were called to recite lines for various roles. The only parts that had been cast preliminarily were Romeo and Juliet.
You and James had sat on the wooden stools unless there was a scene going on that needed Romeo and/or Juliet.
By the end of the first rehearsal, the majority of the speaking roles were cast. You went home exhausted but not expecting the conversation that waited for you.
☆◦ 。\|/。◦☆
The Talk
☆◦ 。/|\。◦☆
"We're moving?" you shouted at your parents from your seat across from them in the sitting room. "What do you mean we're moving."
"Honey, your dad got a job in the states, so we have to move," your mother argued.
"But what about school? No school will take me in the middle of the year, and it's my last year of secondary school. I don't want to spend the rest of my last year knowing nobody."
Your dad, the man of the hour, spoke up. "Dear, we're moving at the end of the year. After school ends."
"But- What about Uni?"
"You said you were taking a sabbatical year!"
"Yes, so I could intern in London!"
"Can't you intern in California?" Your mother whined.
"We're going to California? It's the furthest state?"
Your dad attempted to reassure you but failed. "Darling, it won't be that bad. Maybe you'll like it there more than you like it here!"
"I could never like anywhere more than I like it here!"
You agreed to go to your room and spent the rest of the day there. Later on, after you finished moping, you ringed up your closest friends to tell them you were moving. You did that until you were so tired you fell asleep on the phone with Sarah before you even called Daniel.
☆◦ 。\|/。◦☆
Confrontation
☆◦ 。/|\。◦☆
"Why am I hearing from everyone besides you that you're moving?" Daniel appeared out of thin air behind you, and the accusation was an assault on your conscience.
You could lie and tell him that you wanted to reveal that to him in person, or you could just tell him the truth- say you fell asleep. Mix-and-Match? You ended up just telling the truth. "I fell asleep when I was making some of my other calls. I was going to tell you, I swear!"
"Why didn't you call me first. I'm your best friend?"
"That's why! It was too hard. I kept putting it off and putting it off and putting it off because I didn't want to tell you, I don't want it to be true, and telling you of all people would make it feel real."
"Why can't you stay for Uni?"
"I already told my parents I was taking a gap year. I didn't apply to any colleges."
"Crap!" he sighed. "Ok, well, we're going to have to make the most of it. And! You're getting a going away party!"
"Daniel, I don't need-"
"No debate! You are getting a going away party!"
☆◦ 。\|/。◦☆
Opening Night
☆◦ 。/|\。◦☆
Four months later, after all the rehearsals and memorizations of lines. After much running around the entire film department, it was finally opening night, and your nerves were shot.
You were scrambling all morning to find everything you needed. All your costumes were at the school, but you still needed to bring your black leotard, skin-coloured tights, and wear your hair in an up-do style.
You decided to do your skincare routine, but your panic got the best of you, and you forgot what every single product was used for.
Daniel came over and helped you get ready but found you practically hyperventilating.
Your parents drove you both to the theatre, and when Ms Parker told you that Daniel couldn't be backstage, you promptly told her that he was your emotional support. After much arguing, she finally let him backstage.
Around an hour before showtime, the director told Daniel that he had to go wait in the audience if he already bought his ticket or that he had to go do it now.
Before he left, he gave you a pep-talk. "Hey, so one time, I was in this play, and the idea was that I was expelled, and there was a piece of paper I had to give my 'mother,' but I lost it. So we had to improvise, but I couldn't find the paper, and I felt horrible. So just know, even if you forget your lines, you must improvise, and remember, it still probably won't compare to the embarrassment I felt that day. So you can laugh at my humiliation. "
You chuckled, "I will. Ok, go before you get in trouble."
"Ok, me, our parents and all your friends will be in the front row. I've already reserved the entire row. I brought a whole bag of jackets just for that reason!"
"You can't do that," you said in between cackles.
"For you, I'll do anything," he grinned.
A few hours later and the show was almost done. "What's here? A cup, closed in my true love's hand? Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end," you wept.
"O, churl! Drunk all and left no friendly drop to help me after? I will kiss thy lips; Haply some poison yet doth hang on them, to die with thine restorative." You leaned over James and let your hair fall to the side of your head to cover your face. You pulled back without actually kissing James.
"Thy lips are warm."
A whispery voice came from offstage, "Which way?" The cue for you to take the poison, which was actually cranberry juice.
"Yea, noise? Then I'll be brief. O happy dagger!" You grabbed the dagger and brought it near your chest. "This is thy sheath;" you drew the fake knife back three inches from your chest and stabbed it to where the bag of more cranberry juice was and punctured the bag. 'Blood' soaked through your dress. "There rust, and let me die." You fell dramatically onto the altar and waited for the scene to end as the crowd cheered.
After the show, you dashed into the crowd where your friends and family waited for you. Ovations and Applauses were passed, lauded boxes of chocolates and gorgeous roses were given.
When you got to Daniel, he practically tackled you with a hug. "I actually thought you died for a split second. The blood looked so real."
"Daniel, most people don't bleed that fast, do they?"
"I don't know but fear kicked in, and I couldn't make sense of anything."
You grinned and almost went to your parents before Daniel grabbed your arm. "You don't have a date to the Leavers ball, do you?"
"No, I don't. Why?"
He sighed. "Well, I was thinking that you could go with me. I don't have a date either."
You squinted, thinking there was some ulterior motive behind his actions. "Ok, I'll go with you if you give me the money you owe me before then."
"It's right here," he smiled.
Your face scrunched up, but you reluctantly agreed. You only had a month of school left, and you might as well spend it having fun with your friends.
☆◦ 。\|/。◦☆
The Leavers Ball and the Getaway Party
☆◦ 。/|\。◦☆
You were dressed in a light blue, pleated, Mikado prom dress that cut off at mid-thigh. You had black wedges on your feet and a black pearl-beaded bracelet on your arm.
You were wearing a half-up, half-down style that framed your face and a silver necklace with a circle-shaped diamond.
You were sitting in the parlour when Daniel rang the doorbell. He was ten minutes late.
"Sorry," he said when your dad answered it. "I know I'm late. I was picking up Kat and James."
Kat and James were your and Daniel's respective friends who'd started last year after you and Daniel introduced them.
"Hi," you popped out of the shadows. "Alright, Mom, Dad, we're late, so we're just going to get goi-"
"Wait! I have to take pictures! Go get Kat and James."
"No, Mom. No pictures!"
"It's only right. I just want a few. We can take it outside."
You sighed but reluctantly caved into your mother's will.
The four of you took pictures outside of Daniel's Jeep Wrangler. You took ones with silly faces, just girls, just boys, and ones with all four of you before your parents allowed you to leave.
You were forty minutes late, and the ball was already in full swing by the time you got there.
You got on the dance floor immediately because one of your favourite songs was playing, but the DJ switched the song as soon as you found a decent spot. It was a slow song. You chuckled, and Daniel put his hands on your waist.
"Well, this is awkward."
A few minutes later, Daniel posed an interesting question.
"Did you know that I had a crush on you when you first came to school?"
"Uh, you stammered. "No, I didn't know that."
"Yeah, I did. It was short, though. Surface-level."
"Oh," you said. "Should I take offence to that?"
"What?" His eyes widened in realization with what he said. "No, that's not what I meant. You have an amazing personality. I just meant that… I just meant I like you more as a friend than to ruin that with any of those feelings."
"Oh, ok. You wouldn't have, though."
"I wouldn't?"
"No, everyone needs an ego boost every once in a while."
"Haha!"
"And besides, I've had feelings for you at one point too. But it was very cliche, so I tried to shake it as hard as I could."
"Oh?" He raised his eyebrows. "And did you?"
"Like I said, as hard as I could. If it's still there somewhere, it's buried very deep, so much so that I was embarrassed."
"Embarrassed to like me?"
"I mean embarrassed to try and make my life seem like some movie."
"Oh, well, if you did, it would've just made you that much better as an actress. Speaking of that, would you consider acting in the least?"
"Maybe, now that I'm leaving, it's basically the last thing I have to connect me to you."
"No," he said, pointing to your bracelet. "You have that."
You had forgotten that it was Daniel who gave it to you, but the realization brought a smile to your face. "Oh yeah, I'll never take it off."
Later on, long before the ball ended, you saw many of your friends leaving.
"Hey, are you ready to go?" Daniel approached you.
"Where is everyone going?"
He wriggled his eyebrows. "Afterparty!"
"But it's not over?"
"Quit being a party popper and just come with us, L/N!"
You gave in, something you did a lot, and you all started driving. When you got there, you realized you were at Daniel's house.
"The afterparty is at your house?" you asked.
"Well…" James answered.
Kat joined in. "It's really an afterparty!"
"This is your going away party!" Daniel finished.
"But I'm not going away for another month."
"Well, now you have an entire month for people to give you gifts and stuff, and you don't have to worry about the party!" He reasoned.
"But why did it have to be after the Leavers ball?"
"Because you're already in a dress, and it has to be a surprise! Surprise!" Kat exclaimed.
"Alright, fine!"
The entire night you partied and danced, and though you didn't drink alcohol, plentiful amounts of pop and mocktails were passed around. The music was a delight to your ears with all your favourite songs. There were chips and pizza with all your favourite toppings.
"This party is awesome!"
Daniel grinned. "Well, I am an amazing party planner if I do say so myself."
☆◦ 。\|/。◦☆
Airport
☆◦ 。/|\。◦☆
Daniel's parents drove your family to the airport. Your parents had sold the car. Your dad would return in a week to close a deal on the house. Everything was official, and now you were leaving.
You got out of the car, and the tears forcefully began to fall.
"I'm really gonna miss you, jerk," you said disdainfully to Daniel.
He chuckled. "I'm going to miss you more."
"Impossible!"
He wiped the fallen tear from your eye, and for a moment, you could see every single multi-coloured speck in his eyes and noticed how sometimes they looked blue, and at others, they looked grey or green.
You noticed the curvature of his smile and the chisel of his jawline.You saw the hurt in his eyes that said, 'why do you have to go? You're killing me,' and wanted to never move from that position.
He continued to rub the tears that fell onto your cheek, and the sad moment was as sheltered as it could be. You felt safe with him, in his arms, just looking at his face and being reminded of how he comforted you in a place that felt as familiar as Oz felt to Dorothy.
"What am I gonna do without you?" you whispered.
"Get at least one acting job, get an assistant and an agent, I'll do the same thing, and then either one of us has our assistants reach out to our agents, so we get back in touch in case we ever lose touch."
He sounded so grave that you couldn't help but laugh. "That's assuming I do become an actress, Daniel."
"You're right," he whined. "But don't forget me."
"I promise."
And you tried to keep that promise. Throughout your first year, you interned at UCLA, working in the lab. You then applied to go to school there, and you still tried to keep Daniel in your mind. Maintaining a social life on campus combined with schoolwork already wasn't easy. However, you still wouldn't let yourself forget your best friend.
It wasn't until you entered your senior year and you were about to graduate that he started to wane in your memories. The things you did together became obsolete as new friends and memories replaced the old. The things he taught you were thrown out to make space for the new lessons you learned each day.
Even when you did become an actress, you never really remembered why you decided to. You remembered that your friend pushed you to do that play, but it was almost ten years ago, and for the life of you, you couldn't remember his name.
But you did do it, first as an extra, then a body double, and then you started getting l roles on smaller shows. But your big break was getting a quasi-lead role on the spin-off of a big television show, The Walking Dead. For two years, you enjoyed going to conventions and playing the complex character, Valeria Bishop, and you thought you had it all figured out.
But life has a funny way of coming full circle and throwing you a curveball that knows you off course and changes your life.
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xshinigamikittenx · 3 years
Text
The Quiet Game
NSFW Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader
MINORS DNI
You swear this class is going to kill you. With this much of a class load, there’s no time for friendships or romantic relationships, and that’s fine with you. They were just distractions anyway. It’s usually just the attendants and other students completing work studies at the library this late. This is usually perfect on most nights, but today is Friday, and you forgot he would be here...
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Thank you SO MUCH to TrashyBee on Twitter for bringing Katsuki to life here. Good lawd 😩
A/N: Whew. Yet another one shot that ran away with me. lmaoooo. Couldn't really help it though, I mean...sheeeeesh. But child, anywaaays...this was fun. :) I'm also hoping you've been to a library and seen what the private study rooms look like, because it's kindof important here 😅 but if not here's an idea. Hope your future library thoughts are full of smut productivity!
9.5k words
CW/TW: semi-public sex, oral sex, clothed sex, vaginal sex, biting, swallowing, light degradation, gagging, fingering, hair pulling, deep thrusts, praise
You swear this class is going to kill you. Why the fuck did you choose to take on so many credits this year? Take more classes at once so you can finish early. The goal from the beginning was to get through university as quickly as possible so you could start making the money you knew would help keep you far away from home. Wealth is not something that runs in your family. Everything you get, you work for, and your degree will be no different. You keep your head down, focusing on one goal, to make enough money to support yourself and live the way you want. With this much of a class load, there’s no time for friendships or romantic relationships, and that’s fine with you. They were just distractions anyway.
Your roommates, however, don’t have that same logic. Some nights when you’re up studying, you can hear them, and whoever they brought back to the dorm moaning, the bed sometimes rhythmically bumping into the paper-thin walls. “Just like that...yes-yes-mmmmore. Ffuck! ” It’s...distracting, to say the least, and frustrating because your body’s reaction constantly betrays your mind's focus. Your thighs clenching together, your pulse quickening; no way in hell you can study in your room, especially not at night.
You shake the thoughts out of your head, looking up at the massive main library, your feet unconsciously moving forward. This is your sanctuary, the place you feel you can be most at peace, and finally give way to the maintained focus you knew you needed. The warm glow of the lights through the windows always makes you feel calm. The cold air whips into you as you push open the door and take in the endless rows and layers of books keeping you company. There’s hardly ever anyone here at this time, a discovery you made one night when you found yourself packing your books in frustration to escape the sounds coming from the next room in the middle of the night.
It’s usually just the attendants and other students completing work studies at the library this semester. This is usually perfect on most nights, but today is Friday, and you forgot he would be here. Your eyes land on his back, surveying him at a distance. The fact that he works here doesn’t quite compute with you. He’s built like he should be throwing a ball somewhere, all broad shoulders and toned arms. The sleeves of his olive green sweater are rolled up, emphasizing the lines and ridges of his toned muscles. It’s borderline irritating how good he looks, entirely focused on a mundane task. His blonde hair is somehow perfectly dishevelled, the lean form of his body bent over the desk, filling out some kind of paperwork while you walk in his direction. Usually, you would try to avoid him; talking to people, in general, is not a specialty of yours, let alone talking to someone who seems to have a short fuse.
You wait for a few seconds, thinking he’s got to know you’re there. He had to have heard the door open, right? But he hasn’t turned around yet, and thinking about actually opening your mouth to speak to him felt like the air was getting sucked out of the building. You were already introverted with high anxiety, and you did not need to feel uncomfortable right now, especially under the looming stress of this project which was due in two days. So you waited, hoping the subtle noises you were making, readjusting your bag, and taking a deep breath, would possibly get his attention. Fuck, this is taking too long; I’ve got to say something. “Um...hey.” Jesus Christ, really couldn’t think of anything better to say? You practically sneer at yourself at how lame you sound, but this certainly got his attention. He turned half of his body towards you, one of his scarlet eyes glaring at you over his shoulder. His face was rather expressionless, betraying the scorching feeling his eyes deliver, making you suddenly self-conscious of what you looked like standing in front of him. You didn’t think about what you were wearing when you left your dorm, throwing on a go-to pair of leggings and the first hoodie you saw before storming out of the overly cramped room, leaving the heavy breaths and moans of your neighbour behind you.
“Oi, you need something? Speak up.” Your face immediately flushed. The heat rising up your neck and blooming across your face, triggering your palms to start sweating. You didn’t think you were unnecessarily quiet; it’s a fucking library. You knew he was an asshole, but what the fuck did you do to him? Before you think about it anymore, you shift your thoughts towards how to respond to him, coming up blank. You grip your bag tighter, your mind racking itself, but the anxiety has already caught hold of you, and it’s as if you're stranded on an island with no help in sight. So you resort to your usual defensive mechanism; you bite back.
“So, what...? You want me to scream to get your attention?” He turns his body toward you, putting the full picture of himself on display. You’ve never been this close to him, actively avoiding him after hearing him ream other students out for being too loud or misplacing books. You didn’t realize how intimidating his stature was until now, being less than six feet away from him.
He wasn’t excessively tall, but his posture would convince you otherwise. Even as he leaned back against the length of the desk behind him, he was still probably a handful of inches taller than you. He lifts his glasses to rest on the top of his almost unruly blonde hair as he speaks, “Can’t say why I would find screaming necessary in a library, but if you need something, you should say it clearly so I can help you and not have to spend five minutes of my time explaining common courtesy to someone who knows better.”
Your annoyance is suddenly replaced with rage at his words. What the fuck? Is he trying to put this on me? Doesn’t he fucking work here? Isn’t it his job to pay attention if someone needs help? You’re even more pissed because you wouldn’t have to deal with this shit if you could study in your room. The constant reminder of your roommate getting railed while you were trying to work made that impossible, so here you are. It’s not like you wanted to ask him for help, but you need access to a private study room, and you have to request it from the attendant. Except for tonight, when you’re pent up and stressed, you have to deal with him. “I wouldn’t have to speak up if you were doing your job, asshole.” Fuck. He’s distracting me. I don’t have time for this. You watch his face as one of his eyebrows lift while he places his large hands on the ledge of the desk behind him, baring the outline of his toned chest stretching the fabric of his sweater. “Now, I know you’re not that much of a dumbass. What do you think I was doing before you walked in here and started wasting my time?” Your eyes widen, inadvertently travelling the length of his body, from the smug ass expression resting on his face to his rippling arms, tense as his hands grip the dark wooden desk. For some reason, this annoyed you even more; why did he have to be insulting and infuriatingly attractive?
His lips curl into a smirk, revelling in the glare you’re aiming at him. Dumbass? Is this asshole for real? At this point, he’s pissed you off past the point of giving a fuck. You would’ve walked away by now if you didn’t actually need his help. But if he wants to play this game, fine. A smug smile spreads across your face as you speak, “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was speaking to someone who was unable to multitask. Your life must be so hard, huh?” He drops his head, laughing as he pushes himself off the desk, taking a step toward you. Your hands grip your bag tighter as he comes closer, lifting his head so his ruby-coloured eyes meet yours. “That’s pretty fucking hilarious coming from someone who’s at the library in the middle of the night on a fuckin’ Friday.” He straightens up, shoving his hands in his pockets as he continues, “Seems more like your life is hard, and you’re just pissed off about it.” His gaze is piercing, attempting to slice through your facade of confidence, but you’re currently too livid to give a shit. You’re done talking to him, you just need to get into the study room and away from this asshole.
“No,” you seethe, “I’m pissed off because I can’t work in my room, I have shit to do, and this conversation is a waste of time.” You lift your head higher, meeting his gaze as he smirks down at you. “Oh, seems like I’m not the only one who can’t multitask then, huh?” He chuckles, watching you as you fold your arms and turn your head, breaking eye contact with him. “I just need one of the study rooms opened.”
“Oh, so you do need something,” he says, his voice dropping as he leans forward, bringing his face into your line of sight, his sharp features coming into focus. “You said it yourself, you wasted my time, so I think you can ask a little nicer than that.” You don’t think you’ve ever wanted to punch someone more than how much you want to punch his perfectly fucking chiselled jaw in that moment. Regardless of how much his face appeals to your more violent tendencies, you realize you don’t have an option. All of this bullshit will have been for nothing if you’re unable to get into that fucking room. Your jaw clenches, your teeth sinking into the inside of your cheek as your eyes bore into him. You make a point not to break eye contact when you speak through the smile you’ve painted on, “Oh, where are my manners...would you...please...open a study room so that I can get away from you?” You smile wider, contrasting the cold glare you shoot at him as he grins, watching your edges fray. He slides one of his hands out of his pocket, assessing you while he tosses the keys up in his hand, the dull metallic sound of their impact in the palm of his hand, peaking your annoyance further. “Well hell,” he says, “it’s about damn time.”
You roll your eyes as he catches the keys a final time, smirking at you before he turns to exit the enclosed space of the front desk. You readjust your bag and look up to follow him, balking at seeing him walk in front of you. He takes a few steps ahead of you, his coffee colored pants clinging to the muscles of his legs as he heads towards the back of the library where the study rooms are located. Fuck, his ass looks good. You’re grateful when you take a glance around you, suddenly conscious of what your borderline heated exchange probably looked like to anyone who could’ve seen it. Not to mention the fact that it probably definitely looked like you were staring at his ass just now. You refocus, remembering that you’re supposed to be following him. You train your eyes on the back of his neck, trying to keep yourself from fixating on his perfectly sculpted form; when you see him turn his head, eyeing you. His gaze travels up and down, then up to meet your eyes before he speaks, “For someone who claims to dislike wasted time, you sure are slow.”
Fuck. Did he catch me looking at him? Your chest tightens at the thought. Just hurry the fuck up and get to the room so you can do what you came here for. You signal your legs to pick up the pace until you’re almost in stride with him and looking straight ahead. You know where the study rooms are; you just need him to open it for you, but why does it feel like it’s taking forever to get there? Your body grows warmer, anxiety still pumping through you from your previous conversation. Now being alone in this giant space in silence is adding emphasis to the fact that you’re practically alone. You try to distract yourself, feigning interest in the books that line the shelves as you walk past them. We’ve got to be close now; just focus on the room. You look ahead, expecting to see the study rooms’ glass windows but instead are met with more shelves of books. What the fuck? Did they move them? How long have we been walking? You glance over at him, accidentally making eye contact because he was already looking at you.
Without thinking, you look away, and then you hear him speak, “Ya know, no ones usually here at this time on a Friday. Don’t you have better shit to do?” Seriously? If he’s going to be a dick, why is he even wasting his breath talking to me?
“Yeah, well, maybe I don’t,” you bite back, too tangled up in your own thoughts to decipher anything less aggressive, “and I don’t want to be here just as much as you don’t want me to be here.”
He continues walking, and you push ahead of him, attempting to put some distance between you. You don’t need him to lead you to the room; the library is only so big. Getting there on your own and waiting for him to open it would be better than dealing with this bullshit. You see him looking over at you in your peripheral vision as you pass him, and he laughs. “You don’t wanna be here, but all of a sudden, you’re in a hurry. A little conflicting, don’t you think?”
You roll your eyes. Fuck off. Is what you would’ve said if you wanted to continue this conversation. He would definitely have something to say to that. “Are you forgetting that I’ve got what you want?” You stop dead in your tracks and spin on your heels to face him, “Excuse me?” He doesn’t even flinch at your raised tone, you could practically hear your own voice echoing around you as he walks up to you, stopping inches away. He’s so close you can smell him, a warm scent of amber and oak catching you off guard as you hold your ground. His lips lilt into a mocking half-smile as he moves his hand towards you to dangle the keys directly in front of your face. “What? You want to get into the room, don’t you?” Your focus shifts from the keys to his crimson eyes, blurring everything else around you as your body reacts to the heat radiating off of his skin. He feels...warm. I wonder - Your gaze drops to his lips, maddeningly curled into a taunting smirk. “Well, now I’m wondering what you thought I was talking about.”
He pulls the keys into the palm of his hand with a metallic snap, the sound almost making you jump as your eyes widen. You find yourself holding your breath as the tightening in your chest climbs up to your throat. Say something. Fucking anything. Your face must tell him everything he needs to know, because he doesn’t wait for a response. “How’s this, I’ll let you off the hook if you tell me why you’re here, dealing with my bullshit, when you could be studying in your dorm.”
This is none of his fucking business, but it’s easier to answer than the previous question, so fuck it. “I can’t focus there.” He raises an eyebrow at you, clearly not satisfied with your answer. You roll your eyes and sigh, “It’s just...noisy. I can’t think straight.”
He laughs at your response, “Yeah I can see that you're easily distracted.” You feel his eyes hovering over your body before meeting your gaze and shifting his weight to start walking again. You take a deep breath, silently relieved that whatever the fuck that was is over. “There’s this invention,” he says as he walks ahead of you “called headphones, ever thought of using those?” You shoot daggers into the back of his head as he turns the corner and you see the study rooms up ahead. Thank fucking god. He sifts through the keys as he walks, locating the one he needed to open the door. His hands move to slide the key into the lock, “Tch. Unless you’ve got roommates that are loud when they fuck. Headphones might not help much.” You know this is a joke but the heat spreading through your face, and the way your body tenses up catches his attention. “Did I strike a nerve,” he asks, smirking at you as his hand grips the door handle.
“Just open the door.” He raises an eyebrow and you release an exasperated sigh, “Please.”
He swings the door open, holding it open as he waits for you to walk through. Finally. I can get this asshole out of my face and work. You walk towards the door, and you notice he isn’t moving. I can hold the door on my own. Why is he still standing there? As you move you eye the entrance to the room, realizing you’re going to need to get insanely close to him to get through the doorway. Fuck it. Just slip by him and move on. “Listen, I don’t bite,” he says, noticing your moment of hesitation with a sly smile. You roll your eyes, making a point to look him in the eyes as you attempt to get by him. His piercing gaze slices through you, stoking the flames within your core you’ve been harnessing all night; fuck, maybe all semester. You fail to keep the flush from blooming across your face, turning your head away from him as you attempt to brush past him. You can feel him watching you, it feels like heat is emanating from his skin, pulling you closer as you hear a low voice directly in your ear, “Unless you want me to.”
What? It was a split second that you were close enough to hear him. Your breath catches as you finally make it past him, his words echoing in your head. Did he just-? You turn around to face him, “What did you just s-“ but he was already leaving, walking back towards the front of the library, probably to finish working on whatever the hell had him so focused when you arrived earlier.
You turn away, your back towards the floor to ceiling window of the small room as your mind reels from the last thing he said to you. I swear I heard him correctly. But why would he say that? Am I fucking crazy? You mindlessly unpack what you need out of your bag and sit at the desk, trying and failing miserably for almost an hour to focus on your work. You find yourself repeatedly scanning the same page because you can’t stop yourself from looking over your shoulder to see if he’s nearby. You nibble at the tip of your pen, looking at the book in front of you and unable to comprehend a single thing. Your oral fixation is running rampant and your thoughts are nowhere near where they should be when the image of his lips slip into your head. What do they taste like? Your body reacts to the thought, squeezing your thighs together as your core tightens imagining his hands gripping your skin, his teeth sinking into you. Fuck. Fuck!
You turn your head again, wondering if there was any way he would be looking in your direction; his thoughts riddled with the same infuriatingly erotic images on a loop in your head. Then, you see him. His back towards you as he holds a stack of books in one arm to place on the shelves. Your eyes travel down the length of his body, the lines of muscle subtly evident through his clothes. You watch him as he reaches up to a particularly high shelf, and his sweater lifts just enough to see the definition of his lower back. Heat is building inside you, the stirring in your core causing your walls to clench, thinking about raking your nails across his back. Ffuuck...NO. Get your fucking shit together. Why would he want to fuck someone who has nothing better to do than study on a Friday night? Fucking focus. You try to gather your thoughts, but must’ve mistakenly zoned out while you were looking at him, because as soon as your eyes refocus you see his head turned in your direction, one cinder red eye smoldering into you.
Fuck! Your body stiffens, unsure what else to do besides just go back to pretending you were working on this project. That’s basically what you’ve been doing since you sat down anyways. And for what? Just for you to embarrass and distract yourself just enough for this entire ordeal to be a colossal waste of time.You start to gather your things, applying more force than necessary to shove everything back into your bag. Fuck this. I haven’t gotten anything done and it’s been two fucking hours. I should’ve just stayed in my room, used my vibrator and moved on. At least I would’ve been able to think straight.
“You must do that often, huh?”
Your eyes widen and you immediately turn your body towards the source of the voice coming from the doorway. Your eyes land on his waist, then to the large hands in his pockets as he seems to take up all the remaining space in the room. You catch a glimpse of the student ID on the lanyard threaded through his belt loop. Katsuki Bakugo. You didn’t even bother to check the picture before you looked up, eyes connecting with the same asshole smirk you’ve been replaying in your head since you sat down. I didn’t say all of that shit out loud did I?
“What are you talking about,” you snap. You really don’t feel like playing this game with him. You already made up your mind that you were leaving, there was no way in hell you were going to stick around to get made fun of. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Ha. That’s a good question,” he takes a step, crossing the length of the room to lean against the desk inches away from you. “I have a better question though. How long have you been watching me instead of working?”
It feels like your brain short circuits. Did he catch me looking for him earlier? Fuck!
“I-” it suddenly dawns on you that the only way he would’ve seen that is if he was looking at you. You just didn’t see him.
You smile up at him, crossing your arms as you lean back in your chair. “The only way you could even think that, is if you were watching me. So you tell me, Katsuki, how long was it?”
He grins as he places his hands on the edge of the desk on either side of him and leans down towards you, his face inches away from yours. His eyes hold your gaze, his crimson eyes blazing like an unhinged wildfire as he speaks, “See, it’s my job to watch you. I work here, dumbass,” he says, his eyes dropping down to your chest as you cross your arms even tighter. God, I’m such an idiot. Of course he’s watching me because he has to. What the fuck was I thinking? Further embarrassment creeps across your face at the thought of even considering that he wanted you. Then, he leans in closer, the sound of his voice a warm whisper against your ear as he speaks, “What’s your excuse?”
You almost stop breathing. Your thoughts frantically trying to come up with something; anything that wasn’t the truth. You come up blank, your expression must’ve given him the answer he was looking for, because he laughs. He laughs in your face, and as much as you want to be completely pissed off, you’re distracted by the glint of the piercing poised in the center of his tongue. Fuck.
Subduing his laughter he sits up just enough to look down at you, raising an eyebrow as he smirks, “You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you? That I was watching you because I wanted to?” You glare at him, the all consuming mixture of rage and embarrassment spreading through you as your face flushes. Your nails are digging into your arms so hard that you can feel it through your sweatshirt. You can’t think of a single thing to say, but your mouth moves without thinking.
Your eyes connect, and you spit out exactly what your mind is silently screaming, “Fuck off.” You make sure you don’t look away, pointedly challenging him to say anything remotely clever in response. The grin spreading across his face is the first sign that you’ve lost that challenge.
“Pretty nasty mouth for someone who’s in the library more often than her own room.”
You flare up, everything you’ve been holding in boiling over as you bite back at him, “You don’t know shit about me,” your voice is tight, and growing louder as you let the words spill out of your mouth, “I’m here all the fucking time because I can’t deal with the fact that I have to watch everyone around me have a life while I bury myself in school. I don’t have friends or shit else to do because I don’t have fucking time. I just want to get through this hell so I can finally just do what I want! So could you, please, get the fuck out of my face so I can go.”
“The door’s right there, you could’ve left a long time ago, but here we are,” he says, his smirk dripping with sarcasm.
I’m so fucking done with this shit. You move to get up, grabbing your bag off of the desk as you turn towards the door. Your hand is reaching for the doorknob when you hear his voice again.
“Did you not hear me?”
“Loud and fucking clear. I’m leaving aren’t I?”
“For someone who’s so fucking smart you really are a dumbass,” he says, standing as he takes a step towards you.
Why haven’t you left yet? Why haven’t you opened the door and - It hits you. You replay his words in your mind, picking up on something you were too pissed off to realize until this moment.
You turn around to face him, and you’re eye level with his shoulders, inches away from you. The warm amber scent of him enveloping you as your gaze travels up his neck to the angle of his jaw, finally making eye contact as you speak, “How would you know I’m here more often than my own room?”
“Tch. Like I said before, I work here,” he says, before moving closer, the heat of his breath brushing against your face as he continues, “but I’ll admit getting to see you makes my job less shitty.”
Your chest tightens, the fluttering in your core enough to make your pulse quicken as your lips part slightly.
He’s watching your face, smirking as your body tenses up when he closes the space between you. “But if you really want to leave...” he whispers against your skin, careful not to touch you as you look up at him with pleading eyes. He brings his lips a breadth away from yours, dropping his gaze to your mouth. “I’m going to fuck you on the desk.” he says, his hands still in his pockets as his words melt into you, “If you don’t want me to, tell me right fucking now.”
He’s so close to you, all you had to do was tilt your head up just a little more and your lips would touch. The thought invaded your mind, your breath catching in your throat as your body reacted to his words, tightening your core to the point of aching. You lift your eyes to meet the heat of gaze as you speak, “Do it, then-“
“Fucking finally,” he growls, his voice raspy and low as he makes contact, his lips moving against yours as the palms of his hands travel up to your face. They slide into your hair at the nape of your neck, collecting it in his fist, while the other hand grips your hips. He pulls you into him, moving you against the wall adjacent to the door. Your back meets the wall, the impact strong enough to make sound and your mind is blank. The feeling of his hands, his lips, his body pressed against yours, overwhelming your senses as you grasp onto the fabric of his sweater. His kiss is hungry and breathless, low groans vibrating against your lips as his pierced tongue slips between them, tasting the heat of your wet mouth.
You whimper into him, your body on fire from the inside out as the thin thread of self control you have left is priming to snap. His lips curl up into a smirk at the sounds lilting out of you and a growl ripples through him as he bites your bottom lip hard enough for you to open your eyes. He releases you, his breaths heavy as he presses his forehead against yours. His scarlet irises bore into you as he speaks, “We’re going to have to do something about all that fucking noise you’re making,” he smirks, his eyes traveling from your swollen lips to your legs, taking note of how tightly you’re clenching your thighs together. “You’re a mess already aren’t you?” His breathy laugh brushes against your face as he pulls away hooking his index fingers into the waistband of your leggings and tugging just enough for them to snap back once he releases.
A soft gasp escapes your lips at the impact against your sensitive skin, the heat pooling between your thighs as your insides clench. Your body is screaming, begging for him to touch you and your mouth moves on its own. “Please,” you whisper up at him, your hands finding the hem of his sweater as you spread your fingers against his skin, feeling every ridge of hardened muscle beneath it.
He drops his gaze down to your hands as your fingertips explore the surface of his skin. A low rumble vibrates through his chest, as his eyes sear into you, “Don’t forget, you fucking asked for this.” His hands move, pulling your sweatshirt over your head and dropping it onto the floor before he leans into you, pushing his leg between your thighs while he holds both your wrists in one hand above your head against the wall. His other hand grips your hip, his fingertips digging into your skin as his lips meets your neck.
You start to move against him, trying to get a taste of the friction your body is aching for while he teases your neck with open mouth kisses. His breath is hot against your skin, teeth sinking into you, as low groans escape his lips. He feels so fucking good and you haven’t been fucked in so long you might cum before he even gets to feel how wet you are. His lips move up to your ear, his voice low as his breath caresses your skin, “You’re riding my thigh like it’s something else, baby girl.” The hand gripping your hip slides under your shirt as he speaks, palming your breast while he kisses the space behind your ear. His teeth graze against your skin as a rippling growl erupts from him, pulling a whimper from your lips while your pussy grinds against his thigh.
You can feel the length of his hardening cock against your leg as you press yourself against him. He pinches your nipple, igniting every nerve in your body as he grins against your skin, feeling your body bend for him. A gasping moan escapes your lips, the sound filling the space around you as your head drops back against the wall. He pulls his head back just enough to watch your reaction; your eyes squeezed shut as your whines spill from your open mouth. “I can feel your pussy clenching for me, y/n,” he says, his lips trailing down your exposed neck as his hand moves to your other hardened nipple. The pressure he applies is sharp and delicious causing every muscle in your body to tighten, your panting breaths mingling with his hums of satisfaction as he feels you on the edge of unraveling at his touch.
“Fuck...ha...hahh...Katsuki...” You’re on your tiptoes relishing in the feeling of his teasing fingers as your insides coil imagining the feeling of him stretching you out. He grinds against you, his arousal pressing against your leg as your nails dig into the palms of your hands. “Mmm, You’re so fucking sexy, so desperate for this fucking cock aren’t you?”
Your lips are moving before you think, your mind consumed with the heat swelling inside you, “Yes...yes...please.” You lean forward in an attempt to meet his lips but he pulls away, releasing your hands as he moves to grip your hips. You let out a small yelp when he picks you up under your ass, and turns to put you on top of the desk. His hands slide down to the crook of your legs as he stands between them, eyeing you beneath his lashes when he speaks, “Pull them down.” You lean back, searching his face as you try to collect your thoughts. You must’ve taken longer than he wanted because he leans in, placing his hand on the wall behind you as his crimson eyes burn into yours, “You’re taking your sweet fucking time, and you’re already soaked down here?”
His fingers move to your warm center, feeling your arousal soaking through your leggings as he presses circles against your aching clit. Your legs involuntarily squeeze around his hips as his hand drops from the wall to grip a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back to make you look at his face as his voice drops, “Spread...your fucking...legs.” Your pulse quickens, your blood heating up as he slows the pace of the pressure he’s circling around your clit and you whimper up at him, giving into the ripples of pleasure coursing through your body.
You want more, you lean back on your hands, hips moving to the rhythm his fingers play against your drenched core as your pleading eyes meet his gaze. You’re in a fucking library, in a room with a huge ass window. But the thought of someone seeing you makes your pulse speed up, sending a heightened thrum of pleasure streaming through you, “Hnnngh...ffuckk…” your hips move faster, cloying for more pressure, more friction, more feeling. Katsuki notices your body’s reaction, tightening his hold on your hair, causing your eyes to squeeze shut from the slight prickle of pain. “You wanna cum so fucking bad don’t you? That pussy of yours is begging for this fucking cock.” All you can do is pant in response, your eyes opening to see his face, smirking down at you as his fingers push harder, “Show me, show me how much you want it so I can see that dripping pussy.”
A breathy moan slips out of your throat as you sit up to push the fabric of your leggings down to your ankles. Katsuki releases his hold on your hair, watching your every movement as his gaze drops down to the essence glistening against your swollen lips. You hear his sharp intake of breath, the air hissing between his teeth as his eyes hungrily take you in before he meets your gaze again. His hooded eyes are a shadowed crimson, the heat rising up to your cheeks as you squirm beneath him.
One of his hands moves to grip the top of your thigh, the pads of his fingers digging into your skin as he slips two fingers from his other hand into his mouth. Your pussy tightens, watching him give his fingers a gentle suck as his gaze locks onto yours. The image is lethal, your breath catching at the sight of his wet fingers sliding past his lips and dropping to your aching pussy to tease your entrance. “Fuck, you’re so fucking wet baby,” he hisses between his teeth, as he pinches your clit, the pressure enough to pull a gasping moan from your throat.
Your eyes flutter closed as you stifle a moan and lean your head back against the wall. His fingers maddeningly toy with you as you hear him unbuckle his belt. Sheer curiosity makes your eyelids hover open as you look down, taking in the size of him, his hand wrapping around his thick shaft and gliding over the prominent veins to his cherried swollen tip, dripping pre. You want to taste him so badly, your mouth begins to water and all you can think about is feeling his throbbing cock inside you. You don’t give a fuck if it barely fits. Your pussy clenches at the thought, wordlessly begging to be stuffed to the brim.
A low growl ripples through his chest, “I don’t even have to look at your face to know your pussy’s begging for this cock.” He thumbs the throbbing head of his dick, swirling the pre around his tip while his eyes bore into you. You couldn’t look away from his gaze if you wanted to, even as his fingers leave your aching core to pull you down with a rough tug at the crook of your legs, forcing your ass to the edge of the desk. He leans over your body, bringing his face inches away from yours, sliding a pre soaked thumb into your awaiting mouth flattening your tongue against his calloused finger. You wrap your lips around it, gently sucking and swirling your tongue, tasting his arousal for the first time.
A low moan rises from your throat, vibrating around him as you watch his eyes darken. He presses down against your tongue, forcing your mouth open as he growls, “Mmm you’re a naughty little slut aren't you...” His words send your insides fluttering, your hands balling into fists as your muscles tighten, your walls clamping around nothing but air as you pout. You don’t give a fuck anymore. Someone could stand directly in front of that massive fucking window and record the whole fucking thing. It doesn’t matter. You want him, right fucking now. You roll your hips, grinding your wet pussy against his hard cock. His dick twitches in response grinding through your slit and hitting your clit sending a simpering moan spilling from your open mouth.
You feel him press harder against your tongue and his voice drops, “Such a fucking tease,” he slides his length through your swollen lips, his heat seeping into you as he whispers, “You want this fucking cock? Let’s see how quiet you can be and maybe, I’ll let you cum.” He releases your tongue, slipping his hand under your shirt to swirl his slick fingers around your nipple. You bite your lip, attempting to silence the whimpers rising from your throat as your back arches at his touch, your hands craving to touch him. You reach up, sliding your hands under the fabric of his sweater as you drag your nails down his back. A guttural growl emanates from his chest as he ruts against you, every ridge of his thick cock sliding into your clit.
You can feel yourself melting beneath his hands, his fingers tugging at your nipples as his body moves down leaving soft bites and licks in his wake. The heat of his breath and the cool kiss of the metal stud in his tongue meets your dripping center and it’s enough to send goosebumps flooding across your skin. In one swift motion he’s on his knees between your legs, the back of your thighs resting on his shoulders and his hands gripping you to pull your plush wet lips closer to his smirking mouth. Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m not going to be able to- “Shhhh,” you watch his lips as he smiles, looking directly at you. You swallow the moan threatening to escape your lips but your shallow breaths are giving you away, he fucking knows I won’t be able to take this...
Then, he’s inhaling you, his tongue slipping into your clenching pussy, licking from your entrance to your clit while he looks directly into your eyes as he pulls away, “Fuck. You taste so fucking good.” His voice is heated and low, the evidence of your arousal glistening on his lips as he speaks. The image sends your insides fluttering, your muscles tensing down to your toes as your legs attempt to constrict around him. You’re squirming already but he’s got you pinned, wide open and spread out, at the mercy of his vicious fucking mouth.
He doesn’t give you a chance to catch your breath before he’s latching onto you, his hot wet tongue delving into your silky walls as his piercing vibrates against you with even the slightest groan. You gasp for air, eyes squeezed shut, fingers intertwined in his hair you grind into him, completely blissed out and swimming in the waves of pleasure ebbing through you with every flick and suck. You’re a fucking mess, trying to maintain some modicum of control as he mercilessly swirls his tongue around your pulsing clit. His teeth nestle around it, gently rolling your bundle of nerves between them as he flicks his piercing against you, pulling a low groan from the depths of your core.
He growls, licking your pussy from your clenching entrance to your base of your clit before he looks up at you, “How am I gonna fuck you if you can’t keep quiet with just my fucking tongue, hmm?” The loss of pressure makes you whine, you’re so fucking close. He smirks at you, one of his hands releases your thigh, dropping down to push two of his thick fingers into your warm weeping center. His eyes follow his movements, watching as you take him in, curling his fingers to brush against your most sensitive spot as he slides in and out of you. It’s too much, but you choke down the sobbing whimper cloying in your throat. Your legs shake, breasts heaving as your panting breaths quicken with every thrust of his fingers. You’re biting your lip so hard to keep quiet you might draw blood, but you lean back, putting your weight on your hands to lift your hips and roll into him, letting his long fingers push deeper inside you.
You clamp down around him, your body begging for more; more feeling, more friction, more pressure, you want every little piece of it. You’re at the edge of your control, your mouth falling open in a silent moan as your eyes flutter closed and your head falls back. You can feel him watching you, humming his approval as his other hand releases your leg, “Mmmm, such a good fucking girl with this greedy fucking pussy. You wanna cum for me don’t you...?”
“Yes-yess, pleeease...haah-fuck, FUCK.”
He breathes a soft laugh over your sopping pussy before he devours your soft lips hungrily, lapping up your slit as the rhythm of his fingers speed up.
“Hnnngh...hah-haah, please-fuck, fuck, fuck!”
He’s drowning you, your senses overflowing with the feeling of heat through your body, pushing you to the brink of release. Your pussy clenches around him, his tongue sending sparks through every nerve, punishing you with his thrumming piercing as he moves to sit up on his knees, pushing further into you. He knows you’re close; his hand slides up your body, his nails dragging across your skin until he reaches your lips, sliding two of his fingers into your panting mouth.
He moans into you, making his piercing vibrate faster. Your mouth waters as you wrap your tongue around his fingers, nibbling and sucking on them. You’re a mess, unable to conjure anything except slurred muffled groans around his thick fingers. His lips pull away just enough for you to feel him growl at you.
“Cum for me, right fucking now.”
Fuck...fuckfuckfuck! Your body reacts to his words, wrapping both hands around his arm, digging your nails into his skin as your climax crashes into you. You’re struggling for air but you don’t need it, the blinding light behind your eyelids rippling with the waves of pleasure imploding from your core. He doesn’t stop, his fingers milking your insides, extending your orgasm for everything you’ve got until he slips them out of you, only to delve into your tightening entrance with his tongue, lapping up every drop of your cum.
“So fucking sweet,” he breathes, slipping his fingers out of your mouth, using both of his hands to push the back of your thighs up, inhaling everything you have left as the last tremors spiral out of your body. Eyes closed, floating in the afterglow of your release, you feel him pull your legs back down as he stands in one swift motion. He grips the top of your thighs, roughly tugging you down until your throbbing core kisses the ridges of his dick. Your eyes snap open. Fuck, he’s fucking huge.
Your expression must’ve voiced your thoughts because he expels are a breathy laugh, “You feel that don’t you, how fucking hard I am from tasting your perfect fucking pussy.” His cock twitches against you and your hips roll into him as you moan, gripping the edge of the desk with both hands as you look up at him. Your legs wrap around his waist, tightening from the flush of heat emanating from your core. You want him inside you, to feel the mind numbing combination of pleasure and pain as he stretches you out.
Your voice is a whimper, “Katsuki….please.” You continue to grind against him, your arousal and his dripping pre making you slick and hot. A guttural growl rips through his chest as he leans over you, the palm of his hand slamming on the wall as he brings his lips to your ear. Your body stills, your breaths coming in shallow pants as his muscle toned body presses against you, “Please, what? Tell me what you want, y/n.”
His tongue flicks at your neck, making your words come out in gasps, “Fuck...fuck me...please, please…” Your hands glide beneath the fabric of his sweater, splaying out to pull him closer into you while your nails dig into him. Your back bows off the surface of the desk, tightening your legs around him trying to gain more friction to appease your swollen clit.
“Be a good girl,” he breathes into your ear, “ and control that pretty mouth of yours or I’ll have to do it for you.”
You bite your lip, your need for him coiling inside you as you feel him push himself up far enough for you to feel him hovering over you. Your eyes meet and his hand moves to position himself into you. The head of his cock presses against your soaking entrance, slowly slipping into you as you fight the low moan rising from your throat. He hisses between his teeth as he watches you, “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.” Both of his hands press into the desk, his arms caging you in, as he looks between your bodies, watching himself ease into you inch by inch. He’s already stretching you out, your velvet walls clenching around him as his wet cock slides inside of your clenching pussy. The muscles in his arms tighten, his body tensing as he begins to move his hips, pushing further into you.
“You’re clamping down on me and I’m not even all the way in yet,” he smirks at you, watching your face flush as your pulse quickens. Fuck...he’s going to fucking break me. But you’re too far gone, you want him, and your body speaks for you, lifting your hips as your nails claw into his back. A growl rips through his chest as his head dips, bringing his forehead to yours, “You want it? Okay then…”
Before you’re able to take another breath, he snaps his hips, pulling a yelp from your mouth when he bottoms out inside you. “Fffuck, you feel so fucking good.” You’re whining, struggling to accommodate his size but relishing in the mind numbing feeling of fullness your pussy was already becoming addicted to. “Not so cocky once that pretty little cunt is fucking full, huh?”
The only response you can offer is a whimper as he starts to move. He rotates his hips, grinding deeper into you, the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix. You turn your head, your eyes squeezing shut as you try to stifle the sounds rising from your throat. Your open mouth meets his arm and your teeth sink into him as he pulls out just enough to slam back into you hitting your limit. It takes everything in you not to cry out, but the pain is dulled by the overwhelming feeling of pleasure each deep powerful thrust rains down on you.
“Haah-hah, fuck baby, you’re taking me so well.” His movements find a rhythm, rolling his hips again and again filling you to the brim with every snap. The curve of his cock pushes his tip against your most sensitive spot, stirring your insides, making your body temperature rise with every panting breath. The feeling is intoxicating, drunk on the way your bodies move together, every nerve firing, desperate to drink him in more. You roll your hips, taking the full impact of every merciless thrust, your breath hitching as you choke back a sob. Your nails drag across the span of his back as you hear him hiss through his teeth. His muscles tense, back arching as a growl vibrates through his body. “Ah- FUCK. Ooooh, you want it don’t you. Yeah? You want it?”
“Katsuki, please, I want- I want more.” You’re a sputtering mess, your walls fluttering around his hard cock as he pushes off the desk, gripping your thighs in both of his massive hands. He pulls you further down bringing your ass off the edge of the desk. Your body is completely at his mercy as he pushes deeper into you, his fingertips digging into your skin as his pace speeds up. You don’t have time to adjust to his movements, he drives into you, snapping his hips, impaling you over and over.
“Ahh-ah-fffucckk,” you moan, failing miserably at staying quiet, it’s fucking impossible. It feels too good, you’re too full, overflowing with the sensations pulsing through your body. You grab onto the edge of the desk, fingers gripping the wood as his heavy sack smacks against your ass. “Mmmm,” he growls, What? Can't fucking take it? Fuck- cant control that slutty fucking mouth can you? Pussy drooling all over my fucking cock.” He lifts your shirt with one hand pulling it up to your open mouth and you immediately bite down, the fabric doing everything it can to muffle your stuttering moans.
“That’s right. Such a good fucking girl,” his fingers trail down your body, groping your breasts, pinching your nipples as every ridge of his cock fills all the space you have inside you. “Fuck- your so fucking sexy baby- you wanna cum don’t you...keep biting down on that fucking shirt.” You’re so close, so fucking close, the coil in your core threatening to snap. He feels you clamp down on him, moving one hand to press down on your stomach and the other to your throbbing clit.
The pressure pushes your spot against his dick, his punishing thrusts slamming into it every time as he rubs maddening circles around your clit. “Hnnnnf-hnnnngh!” Your shirt muffles your sobs as you squeeze your eyes closed, the tears prickling at the corners as your back arches, your head thrown back as far as it can go. “Fuck yes- cum on this cock baby...cum for me.”
His words are your undoing, any ounce of control you have left exploding into the myriad of colors flashing behind your eyes. The thin thread at the base of your spine snaps, catapulting you into the stratosphere, overheating and gasping for air. The feeling saturates you, expelling any and every thought your mind could attempt to conjure. You squeeze your legs around him, every muscle in your body tightening as your pussy clamps down on his throbbing dick.
“Fuck- FUCK-mmmm, get ready to swallow every drop of this fucking cum baby.” His voice washes over you, the waves of your orgasm still rippling through your body as you feel him slide out of you. He hooks a finger in the neckline of your shirt, pulling you to sit up as he steps back between your legs. Your eyes land on his straining cock, slick from your arousal and the dripping pre his hand is fisting up and down his shaft. “Open...your fucking…mouth.”
You want to taste him, your mouth waters watching his cock twitch in his hands. Your body is so fucking spent, your legs would give out if you tried getting on your knees. You push your ass back, hinging at the hips and leaning forward, looking up at him through your lashes as you hold your tongue out of your open mouth for him. “Ughggh, fuck,” he groans, watching you as the heat from your breath caresses his dick.
His hand moves faster, his breath catching as his muscles tense. “Fuck-FUCK- you’re so fucking sexy baby, you’re gonna take all this fucking cum aren’t you...yeah? Show me...wrap those lips around my dick baby.” Your insides flutter as you swirl your tongue around the swollen pink head of his cock, tasting the mixture of his pre and your arousal. You inhale the intoxicating scent of him before hollowing your cheeks and taking in as much of him as you can. “Hah-haah, just like that baby-FUCK.” He moves his hand from the base of his dick to the back of your head, your eyes widening as he starts to thrust into your mouth.
His other hand rests under your throat, holding you still while he face fucks you. A low moan rises in your throat, vibrating around his cock as his uneven breaths melt into groans and hisses. “So fucking perfect,” he’s panting, his voice raspy and rumbling, “Taste your slutty fucking pussy on my cock baby?- haah-hah- all this cum I’m gonna shoot down your throat’s cus’ve you.” He’s thrusting harder, his pace speeding up as he stretches you out, hitting the back of your throat. You gag around him, your saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth as tears begin to fall, “Choke on that cock baby, that’s right- take - all of it- fuck, Fuck-FUCK!”
The hand on the back of your head fists your hair as he throws his head back, all of his muscles tensing up as he bucks into your mouth spraying hot thick ropes of cum down your throat. You swallow every drop of him, his chest heaving with his heavy breaths as he slides his dick out of your mouth and pulls your hair, making you sit up. His lips crash into yours, his tongue lapping into your mouth, tasting the remains of your combined arousal. He releases the grip on your hair, bringing his hand down to your cheek. His touch is surprisingly gentle as he pulls you in further, sighing into you before he pulls away.
You look up, your gaze meeting the smirk on his face before noticing the smug fucking look in his eyes. You roll your eyes, curling your lips into a grin, “What’s that look for?”
“You had a hard time staying quiet in public,” he says, smiling mischievously at you. “I’m wondering what you’d sound like if I fucked you somewhere else.”
Your eyes narrow. How is he still such a sexy fucking asshole. “I wouldn’t mind testing that theory,” you say, smirking as you lean in, looking up at him, legs dangling off the desk.
"Tch," Katsuki eyes you, his scarlet eyes scanning your body as he steps out from between your legs, pulling his pants up and buckling his belt. He looks over at you, "Then, I don’t know what you’re still sitting there for. I’ve gotta clean up the mess you made.”
You grin at him, the irony of him fucking you until your neighbors can hear you screaming almost makes you laugh, pushing the thought of your class project completely out of your mind.
Tags: @sweet-darling91 @aztecbrujeria @tarot-milktea I love you guys 💜 If anyone else wants to be tagged lmk :)
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Wounded Love (Lady Dimitrescu/F!Reader) Pt. 3
Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for blood/violence and language Genre: Action with a lil bit of fluff Warnings: Lil bit of blood Notes: There's an unnamed character in here who may or may not end up as recurring in my stories. I don't really have anything in particular planned for her, she's kinda just here to fill a role/allow for some easter egg type shit in the next chapter. Previous Chapters: Pt. 1, Pt. 2
{Wounded Love 3: Bloody Valentine (No, not that Valentine)}
“Mother Miranda, I must insist, if these lycans stray any further they might start feasting on the village as well! Pray tell, who will you use for research then? We can’t just-... Forgive me… Mhmm. Yes, I understand. Of course… Have a good night, Mother Miranda,” Lady Dimitrescu said, before setting her phone down with a loud thunk. Her hands shake a little, and for a moment you worry that her vanity won’t survive the coming moments. Then you make eye contact with her reflection, giving her an encouraging smile, watching as her gaze softens. “I’m afraid there’s nothing she can do, my dear. I cannot allow Heisenberg’s negligence to go unpunished, but we will have to take care of it on our own, without Mother Miranda’s support.”
“Is that wise, love? To go behind her back like this? I can’t imagine she’ll be terribly pleased if we cause chaos for one of her favored few,” you replied, clicking your tongue as you thought things over. Again you see anger cloud Alcina’s face, though she makes sure not to direct it at you.
“We are not the ones who started this mess,” she reminded you, through clenched teeth. “But we will be the ones to end it, one way or another. I don’t care if I have to gut that wretched man-thing and bring Miranda his corpse as proof of his incompetence! He has shown his lack of loyalty hundreds of times… and now he will pay.” Gulping, you rise to your feet, wanting to comfort your girlfriend. While you had understood that your injury angered her, you hadn’t (until this moment) realized the sheer intensity of that rage. How much blood would be shed before this was over?...
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Crimson drips down the beast’s side, across matted fur, before hitting the wooden floor. A stench as awful as you had ever found filled the air, only made tolerable by the nearby presence of scented candles. What a mess, you think, glad that you wouldn’t be the one to clean it up. Why had the girls insisted on bringing the damn thing inside? Couldn’t they have simply snatched a few teeth from its jaw as a prize? Somehow you doubted that the thought had even crossed their minds. Violence was a passion of theirs, and they preferred their trophies to be as large as the effort they put into getting it.
“How close to the path did you find it?” You asked after finishing your examination of the lycan. Next to you, the eldest daughter is rapidly taking notes in a leather-bound journal. Both of her siblings stand near the fireplace, hands held out next to the flames, needing to warm up after being outside for so long. It wasn’t even that cold of a day, with temperatures averaging around eighteen degrees celsius. All the snowfall from the prior week had now melted. While you knew of the family’s weakness, you also knew that they had bundled up before leaving, and had even taken a torch with them in the hopes of using it on a lycan. Their powers had taken somewhat of a hit, temporarily, but not nearly enough to prevent them from killing a single lycan.
“Heard it howling almost as soon as we left the castle. We couldn’t smell it until halfway to the village, though. Once we could we tried to track it, only for the stupid thing to come charging at us. Must have been eight, maybe ten, meters away by the time we collided,” Cassandra answered. There’s a bit of a shiver to her voice, and you can’t help the rush of sympathy you feel in response. Being out on the path, wearing little more than a dress and scarf, had been absolute hell for you. Even if it was warmer outside now, you imagined that being weak to the cold just about made up for the difference. “There was a little more howling once we started walking back here. Louder, if not closer. Heisenbitch isn’t even trying to keep these fucking things in check.”
“Cassandra, language!” Came a voice in the distance, making everyone present look up at once. Strutting down the stairs was a clearly miffed Alcina, eyes narrowed, body tense. “Did you three really have to bring the mutt inside? Surely you advocated against this, Bela? Or did you think I wanted new bloodstains right by the entrance, where everyone can see them?” Next to you Bela winces, but doesn’t respond, too worried about angering her mother further. “And you, my dear, what on Earth are you doing on the floor? You should be resting, in an actual chair, if not lying in bed awaiting my return. There’s enough for me to worry about without you limping around on a useless leg!”
Now it was your turn to wince.
“Please, love, I know you’re stressed, but I can still help. Given enough time I could help ascertain these things’ weaknesses. At the very least I could pass on what I learned during my fight with one,” you pleaded. Then you tried to stand up, wanting to prove yourself, only to stumble, barely avoiding a faceplant- and only doing so because of Bela’s quick reaction time. She helped you to your feet, letting you lean on her, then lead you towards a bench. Begrudgingly you sit back down. “You’re only doing this because I got hurt. Helping you in your endeavor to avenge me is the least I can do.”
“Don’t be foolish,” Alcina snapped, now just a couple meters away from you. Even with that space between you, her presence was intimidating, and you almost felt like a child being scolded. “Were you to get hurt again, how would we avenge you? If you fall by your own hand, there will be naught I can do other than lock you away somewhere without any dangerous elements. What sort of existence would that be for you? I simply can’t allow it, no exceptions.” At this you pout, feeling rather disappointed. It’s not as if you were asking to carry a gun and shoot Heisenberg yourself! Not that you would be opposed to doing so, of course. “Try to put yourself in my place, my dear. Could you live with yourself if you failed to protect me?”
“I suppose I could not, love. Very well, I shall simply root you on from here, and kiss away any injuries you return with,” you replied, at last giving in. Then you found yourself smiling… and on the receiving end of a very soft forehead kiss. “Nothing will separate us, my love. None can tear apart that which the universe has stitched together.”
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“Like I said, my Lady, I already want him dead. Did you really think that your family was the only one to suffer because of his machinations? I know half a dozen people who would love to put a bullet in that fucker’s skull, bare mims,” the huntress said, white teeth showing in her half-smirk. There was an odd coolness to her voice, like this whole ordeal was just another job, and you couldn’t help but feel uncertain about her. Could she really be the solution to Alcina’s problem? You couldn’t even judge her arsenal, considering she had been instructed to come unarmed. After all, she was a hunter of monsters, with a sizable history to her name. If not for her hatred of Heisenberg, you would never have felt comfortable letting her come within two hundred meters of your girlfriend.
“How can I be sure that you’ll succeed? The last thing I want is to have that wretched man-thing come crawling out of the filth he lives in, angry and coming for vengeance,” Alcina responded, scrutinizing gaze locked on the huntress.
“Didn’t Duke give you my file? Or at least read the good bits out loud? I’ve been in my fair share of scraps, with all sorts of bioweapon mutant freaks. Besides, I don’t plan on leaving any receipts behind. If he manages to survive, which is already one hell of an if, there’s no way he can prove that you asked me to do it. Considering he’s already seen my face, and knows I want him dead… yeah, he won’t bother accusing you, not when I’m in the picture, and certainly not when you’ve got such a big reputation for following Mother Miranda’s word down to the very last letter. So, you gonna make this official, or what?” The huntress asked, gesturing her arms wide. Although you’re still not convinced, Alcina nods quietly, seeming ready to make her decision. Regardless of how you feel about the stranger in front of you, you’re more than willing to support your girlfriend in whatever she planned.
“Very well, huntress. Show us just what you’re capable of.”
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Flames licked at her heels, even as she charged forward, tickling like hot breaths against her skin. Behind her half a dozen lycans roared and screeched in unison. Smoke and ashes flew upwards, into the air, but could not poison her lungs, not when she had come prepared. Still, the mask was not as easy to breathe in as she had hoped, making her chest heave with effort at each intake of air. Good thing I’ll be gone soon, she thought, sparing a glance behind her as she ran. Dozens of trees were aflame, and countless glowing eyes watched from between the branches. They wouldn’t be there for much longer, not with what she had done.
Soon enough an explosion would shake the Earth. Then, finally, both the lycans who had killed her father and the man who desecrated the remains would be dead. And if a certain countess happened to pay her for her services? All the better, really. Funerals could be expensive, especially in such a remote village. More than that… there was no guarantee that she’d be able to outrun Mother Miranda on her own. A little money would make the flight out a hell of a lot nicer.
Assuming she made it that far. There was another scream behind her, this one more human, though somewhat warped by mechanics. It wasn’t a pained cry. No, it was filled with rage. Clearly Heisenberg had come out of his lair, hearing the fireworks, finding his scrap metal and werewolf army in chaos. From the sound of things- metal against metal, electricity crackling- he was coming her way.
“Fuck fuck fuck!” She muttered, desperately trying to get to higher ground. Even if the lycans succumbed to the overwhelming fire, it wouldn’t be hard for their leader to overcome. But the huntress was still too close to her explosives to risk activating the detonator. Just a bit farther, she thought, ignoring the way her lungs ached. Rocks kicked up with every step, loud enough to be heard from a distance, and made traction harder to keep. In the end she had to scramble to get up the side of a short cliff. A few scrapes appeared on her hands, making her curse under her breath.
But with one last movement, pulling herself up with both arms, she was finally far enough to be relatively safe. In one clean second she turned around, pulled the detonator out of its pouch and clicked the trigger. Just like that, a forest blazing turns into a mushroom cloud of pure hellfire. The setting sun makes for a beautiful backdrop, and the sight almost brings a tear to the huntress’ eyes. For a few moments she just enjoys the view. Then, without hesitation or remorse, she starts to walk away, mentally congratulating herself for a job well done.
Until something shoots past her head with terrifying speed. Before she can react another sharp piece of metal flies past her, grazing her arm, and there’s a blood-curdling roar from behind her. Then she’s running, fast as she can, pulse pounding harder than it ever has. One hand goes to the rifle on her back, pulling it out as quickly as she can. The area is rocky, with plenty of outcrops, perfect to hide behind (assuming there weren’t any hidden metal deposits). Quickly she ducks behind one, crouching to keep her head out of sight. Mere milliseconds later another metal spike slams into the ground just beyond her cover.
In the distance, more screams pierce the air, and something heavy drags itself across the ground. It almost sounds like a tank rolling through the woods. The thought alone worries the huntress, but she had never been one to let her fear control her. So she double checks her rifle, adjusts the scope, and pops out of cover. Less than a second later she has her target in her sights. It’s Heisenberg, for sure, more metal than man, but dripping with red. One press of the trigger sends a bullet straight for his ugly head. Unsurprisingly, it’s not enough to pierce his cranium, instead making him mad as hell.
Which is why automatic guns were invented, probably. The huntress holds the trigger down this time, though briefly, before dashing to the next piece of cover. She repeats the process a few times, hoping to kill the man before he could climb the cliff she stood on. If he managed to get up there with her… no, she couldn’t think about that, not now. She had to focus.
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Hidden among the trees, the Dimitrescu sisters watched as plumes of smoke rose in the distance. Even though they had been aware of the huntress’ plan, they hadn’t expected this much carnage. It was certainly exciting! But they really couldn’t see much from where they were. Getting closer was probably a horrible idea, and yet Cassandra shared a meaningful look with Daniela. A split second later they were forming a swarm, rushing into the trees, leaving their elder sister to yell after them.
“Mother’s going to kill me,” Bela said, before rolling her eyes and following. Maybe she could at least keep them out of trouble?... Probably not.
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Metal hands wrap around the huntress’ throat, squeezing hard, but do not twist or otherwise break their prey. No, Heisenberg does not intend to end this that quickly. This rodent had taken so much from him, set his plans back by decades. He was going to kill her slowly. When she still fights back, pulling a knife from her boot and trying to stab whatever she can reach, he does little else but laugh. It’s a crazed cackling that echoes through the surrounding rocky hills.
Just barely loud enough to drown out the sound of insects buzzing.
“Fuck that guy!” Someone shouted, right as a sickle descended upon the monstrous Heisenberg’s neck. The first slice isn’t enough to sever the connection, which is why it’s immediately followed by a second, from another sister, then a third, from the eldest, that finally does the job. Just like that the hands release from the huntress’ throat, and she gasps for air. Coughs leave her distracted as the sisters move to surround her. “Good thing we wanted to see the show up close and personal, eh?” Daniela asked, twirling her sickle with a little giggle.
“You idiots are just lucky I followed you,” Bela added, glaring at her sister. Internally, she was relieved that the end result was a success. Still, she worried about what her mother would think, and certainly didn’t intend to voice her satisfaction at delivering the killing blow. “Now let’s get back, before mother assumes the worst and comes to get us herself.” Sighing, she extends a hand to help the huntress up. Though their mutual enemy had been defeated, there was still much to be done. Who knew how Mother Miranda would react? Who, if anyone, would take Heisenberg’s place? There was plenty to be unsure about, and Bela let her mind wander the whole way back, hoping that things would only get better from here...
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reidgraygubler · 3 years
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skater boy (spencer reid)
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Title: skater boy
Request: no
Pairing: dad!spencer reid/child!fem!reader
Category: fluff
Content Warning: not much tbh, mentions of the following: broken bones; getting broken bones, possible hospital visits
Word Count: 3,453
Summary: Spencer wants to spend more time with his daughter. So she teaches him how to skateboard
A/N: im back with another dad!spencer one-shot. We don’t need to address where all these dad! one shots are coming from. im just realizing that this is my favorite trope and this makes me very soft. And it made me very happy to write. thank you all so much for the support! i really do appreciate it. check out my masterlist!
{***}{***}{***}
Spencer’s daughter had always been a dare-devil. Ever since she began walking, she would show-off. She would always give her parents heart attacks when she would show them a new trick she learned at school. Spencer vowed from the day she was born that he’d protect her like his life depended on it. But he didn’t know just how hard that would be.
While Spencer’s partner was gone on a business trip, he had to take on both parental roles. Usually it was no problem, he would get the help of the other members of the BAU team when he got stuck. But on the weekends, he was left on his own. He had no problem with that. His daughter was old enough to have her own forms of entertainment.
The list of hobbies she had was ever growing. Drawing was probably the safest one she had, but in her eyes it was the most boring. It was, however, Spencer’s favorite because he could keep an easy eye on her while he worked or made lunch/supper.
His daughter’s favorite hobby was skateboarding. Although she wasn’t very good at it, she loved the feeling of danger and risk it had. The majority of her friends at school also liked to skateboard. After all, she did pick it up from one of them. It didn’t take much convincing for her to jump on a skateboard.
When Spencer found out about his daughter’s new hobby, concern instantly took over. Concern for her wellbeing, her safety, and health. Skateboarding could be very dangerous if not wearing the correct protective gear. He didn’t want to take away his daughter’s new joy. But he also didn’t want her to get injured.
The day she came home with her friend’s old skateboard was very memorable for both her and Spencer. But for different reasons. His daughter was excited about her new hobby, and being able to show off cool tricks she was learning. As for Spencer…
She was in the middle of showing him a trick that a friend taught her. She was very confident in what she was doing, and told her father she could do it and that he just needed to stand off to the side. That was until she fell off the board and landed hard on the ground. Thankfully she didn’t hit her head, but the only reason for that was because she caught herself on her hand and broke her wrist.
This hobby was picked up only 3 months ago. Her wrist was still in it’s cast, though her determination to ride her skateboard never went away. Even though she knew her father was scarred for her safety, he didn’t stop her from riding. In fact, he got her the proper safety gear and a new skateboard. Of course Spencer only did that after he talked to the team, and got advice from them.
“Dad! Uncle Rossi’s here!” the teen shouted from the front door. David Rossi looked down at the girl, and the skateboard in hand. “I think he’s in his office.”
“I’ll head that way. Then the kitchen,” David nodded before entering the home more. Spencer’s daughter pulled the door shut before sprinting down the front yard to the sidewalk. She placed her skateboard on the ground before getting on and riding up and down the street.
Inside the Reid household, David was with Spencer. The father and daughter had decided to invite the team over for dinner since it was just the two of them, and it was the weekend. David was talking about the most recent case while Spencer read over some essays he needed to grade.
“Has she asked you to ride that thing yet?” David asked as he looked out the window. Spencer’s daughter was talking to one of the neighbor boys.
“Oh, uh, not yet, no. It’ll be the death of me the day she does ask,” Spencer laughed as he looked out the window. Spencer breathed out a laugh as he watched his daughter do a kickflip, landing it perfectly before looking back at the boys. Her hand was sticking out and a smirk grew across her lips. “I told her not to place bets.”
“Like father, like daughter?” David raised an eyebrow as he looked at Spencer.
“The least she could do is place bets with adults, not the kids next door.” Spencer looked back at David as he stood and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Would you ever ride that death trap?”
“Who says I haven’t already?”
“Of all the people I've asked, why do you surprise me the least?” Spencer laughed as he looked at his co-worker. David shrugged off the laugh and looked back at the young girl. The pair stayed silent as they watched the girl continue to show off to the boys.
A green mini van pulled to a stop across the street from the Reid’s house. Spencer’s daughter stopped skateboarding and looked at the van, watching 4 kids tumble out.
“Looks like the Simmons’ are here,” David spoke as he looked back at Spencer.
“It would appear that way. I’ll show you to the grill?” Spencer asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked at David. David nodded before gesturing towards the door to his office.
“Lead the way.”
Back outside, Spencer’s daughter was talking to Matt’s sons as they stared at her skateboard. Matt and Kristy exited the car and quickly pulled out the baby carrier holding Rosemary. The girl was quick to go up to see the baby, a smile growing on her lips.
“Hey there, Chickadee. How’s it going?” Matt asked as he raised a hand for a high five.
“It’s going,” she replied, giving him the high five before peering into the carrier.
“When’s the cast coming off?” Matt asked as he looked at the girl. She looked down at the aqua blue cast and shrugged.
“Soon I think. I can’t wait because dad’s being such a drill sergeant about it," she shrugged again before dropping her skateboard to the ground.
“He’s just trying to protect you, Chickadee,” Matt smiled as he watched her place her foot on the skateboard. “Just be careful.”
“I’m always careful, Mr. Simmons.” She looked up at him with a smile.
“It’s Matt…” he laughed and watched as she rode away. Kristy looked at Matt then watched as the younger Reid fell off her skateboard and into the grassy yard.
“Looks like she’s always careful,” Kristy laughed as she lifted up the baby carrier. Matt looked over at the girl lying on the grass and laughed.
“Well, you better wish she doesn’t start teaching our kids how to skateboard,” Matt replied with a laugh.
Over the next 30 minutes, the rest of the BAU family arrived at the Reid household. JJ brought her kids and Will to keep Spencer’s daughter more company. Once everyone arrived, David started cooking the food while everyone sat and talked, or played in the drive-way.
“Why don’t you give it a go, Spence?” JJ asked as she watched Spencer’s daughter zoom past the house. Spencer looked over at JJ and shook his head.
“Yeah, I’d pay to see that happen,” Luke chuckled as the girl rode past them again. She came to a screeching halt and looked at Luke.
“You’d pay to see dad skateboard?” She picked up her skateboard and held it by the wheels. Luke smiled as he looked over at Spencer. “How much are you talking? Because, I’d love to get money to see my dad skateboard.”
“Peanut,” Spencer spoke up as the girl kept talking about money and bets, and trying to get her father to ride her skateboard.
“Yeah, Dad?” she looked back at her father once she was done babbling about getting him to skateboard.
“Go play," he nodded towards Matt’s children as they were playing with her toys.
“B-but,” she stumbled over her words as she pointed towards Luke.
“Go play.” Spencer repeated, that time a little slower. His daughter let out a sigh before placing her skateboard back on the ground and skating away.
“You sure you don’t want to try, Reid?” Emily smiled as she looked back at her friend.
“No, no. I’ll leave the skateboarding and dare-devil activities to her,” Spencer laughed before taking a sip of his water. JJ raised an eyebrow before looking over at the kids. Her eldest son was talking to Spencer’s daughter, asking her if he could ride the skateboard.
“She’d probably love it if you did,” JJ looked back at Spencer.
“Not for $100 will I ride that death trap,” Spencer declared before taking a sip of his water.
“What about $150?” David asked before sipping his drink. Spencer nearly spat his water everywhere as he looked over at David.
“If you say that loud enough she’ll hear you… And then I’ll never hear the end of it,” he pleaded as he looked back at his daughter, who was helping Henry on the skateboard.
“Maybe we should say it louder,” Luke chuckled as he looked over at the girl.
“You go ride it then,” Spencer nodded at Luke then at the children and skateboard. Luke looked back at Spencer and the rest of the team before standing up. “Oh, I didn’t mean it.”
“Shouldn’t have said it then.” Luke smirked as he walked past Spencer and towards the group of kids.
Everyone watched in silence as Luke approached Spencer’s daughter. She cocked her hip and looked up at the man that stood in front of her. An evil smile grew across her lips as she undid the helmet on her head and held it up to Luke.
“Dad says you have to wear it if you’re going to ride the skateboard,” she explained as she kept the helmet between their bodies. Luke looked down at the girl, watching as she guarded the skateboard with her life.
“Fine, I’ll wear the helmet-”
“And the knee pads.” She smirked.
“And the knee pads.”
“And the wrist splints,” she quickly added as her smirk grew evil.
“I’ll wear the helmet,” he grumbled as he put the helmet on his head and clipped it on. The young girl smiled as she handed him the skateboard.
“Okay, well, don’t come cryin’ to me when dad tells you should’ve worn the knee pads and the wrist splints.” she stated a matter of faculty as he placed the skateboard down. Luke playfully glared at the girl before getting on the board. “Do you even know how to ride a skateboard, Uncle Luke?” “I was skateboarding before you were even born, Twerp.” Luke glared at the girl before taking off, only to fall off and into the yard beside him. The girl smiled before walking over to him, a smirk growing on her lips.
“You sure about that, Twerp?” she looked down at him. Luke sat up and looked at the girl. “Good thing you wore the helmet.”
“Yeah, yeah good thing I wore the helmet,” Luke rolled his eyes as he pushed himself up. The girl grabbed her skateboard and looked back at Luke. “When you teach your dad how to skateboard, make sure you get it on video.”
“Obviously,” she stated with a laugh. “That’ll get a bunch of views.”
“You’re terrible. You know that? Does your dad know you’re this mean?” Luke raised an eyebrow as he looked down at the young girl. He wondered how a man with book smart knowledge like Spencer Reid had such a street smart daughter. They were total opposites. Luke just blamed it on her other parent. And all of her unofficial aunt and uncles were cooler.
“Food’s done!” David shouted before the girl could answer. She looked up at Luke with a smirk.
“I’ll let you play with it while I eat. Since you’re still wearing the helmet and all. I’ll leave my knee pads and wrist splints on here for you.” She smiled as she pulled the gear off and placed it on the ground. The girl smiled at Luke one last time before skipping off to get dinner.
{***}{***}{***}
The following day, Spencer went to the store, and returned, before his daughter even woke up. He bought himself a skateboard, a new helmet, and all the correct paddings and splints he knew he would need. If he was going to let his daughter teach him how to skateboard, he was going to need the proper protection. He wasn’t going to risk any sort of injury. And, if nothing worked out for him in the end, at least his daughter would have a brand new skateboard.
Spencer waited until his daughter woke up before he started messing with something out of his comfort zone. He knew his daughter would be more than excited to teach him how to skateboard. It’s secretly all she wanted to do for the last 3 months. And if Spencer had to be honest, he wanted it too. Just a little bit.
Spencer could hear the sounds of feet hitting the hardwood floor. He sat up and placed his book on the side table beside him. The footsteps went down the stairs, and then entered the living room.
“Oh! Mornin’, Dad!” the young girl smiled at Spencer. Spencer looked at her and nodded in her direction.
“Good morning, Peanut,” Spencer smiled before taking a sip of his coffee. His daughter looked at him with squinted eyes and cocked head.
“What’s going on?” she asked as she rested her fists on her hips. Spencer’s eyebrows inched up his forehead before he shrugged.
“What do you mean? Nothing’s going on.” Spencer sat up more and looked at his daughter.
“But you’re… talking in that weird tone… And you definitely only do that when somethings up.” She lifted her hands from hips and crossed them over her chest.
The thought of her parents getting a divorce came across her mind. But she knew her parents loved each other too much for that to happen. She knew better than to think that either of her parents would be dying too. All she knew was something was definitely off.
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“Cross your heart?”
“Hope to die,” Spencer spoke as he lifted a hand to rest over his chest. “How about you go get breakfast and get ready for the day… Then I’ll tell you what’s going on, okay?”
“So something is happening! I knew it!” she shouted as she pointed at her father. “How am I supposed to eat and get ready for the day when I know that something is happening?!” she clapped her hands together. “Is it a good thing or bad thing?”
Spencer stared at his daughter for a moment, and then he realized she was definitely his. He was also getting a taste of his own medicine as she rapidly began shooting out her questions and thoughts or theories.
“Is Uncle Luke and Aunt Penelope finally getting married?”
“What? No! They’re not.”
“Aunt JJ having another baby?”
“Peanut, go eat and get ready. Then I’ll tell you. But I promise you that it’s a good thing. Okay?” Spencer asked as he tried to keep his tone calm and steady. The girl grumbled a little before walking away.
She tried being quick, wanting to know what Spencer was up to. It wasn’t like him to keep secrets from his daughter. He was up to something, and it was her job to figure it out.
Once she was finished getting ready for the day, and shoveling cereal into her mouth, she went back into the living room. There, she found Spencer, still sitting on the couch, reading a book. However the only thing that changed was that sitting on the coffee table was all the gear he had gotten this morning.
“No way! A new skateboard!?” she exclaimed as she ran to the coffee table and fell to her knees. She picked up the board and looked at it with wide eyes.
“Yes that would be a new board. But it’s not for you.”
“What? Who it for then?”
“Me.”
“You don’t even know how to skateboard.” She stood back up and looked at her dad. Spencer closed his book and placed it on the side table.
“Well, Peanut, I was hoping you could teach me how to skateboard.”
“You want me… To t-teach you how to skateboard?” she stared at him with wide eyes. She had to hold back her laughter as she started imagining Spencer on a skateboard and inevitably falling to the ground. Then she thought back to her conversation with Luke the night before. She wasn’t going to miss the chance of recording the epic fails of Spencer falling off the skateboard.
“Well you always seem so excited about it! I want to experience and understand why you get so excited. And, if anything, if I don’t do good, or I don’t like it, you can have my skateboard.”
“You mean it?!”
“If I didn’t mean it, I wouldn’t have said it, Peanut.” Spencer smiled as he watched his daughter pick up the new skateboard.
“Can we do it now? Please!”
“Did you do your chores?”
“I’ll do them after!” she exclaimed as she hugged the board to her chest. Spencer looked at her with a raised brow. “Promise!”
“Alright, alright. We can practice for an hour okay?” Spencer stood and grabbed the rest of the gear.
“Sweet! I’m gonna go grab my stuff!” She shoved the board into Spencer’s hands before running outside.
Spencer eventually met his daughter outside, on the driveway. She could sense his nervousness and terror as she helped him with his stance. “When you’re ready to move, just bring your foot to the ground and kick off. Then when you want to turn, just lean your body in the direction you want to turn,” she explained as she got on her own skateboard.
“That… that seems easy enough,” Spencer whispered, his voice trembling as he spoke. His daughter looked at him with a smile. She was trying to hold back her laughter when she realized that his hair was sticking out weirdly from under his helmet.
“It’s not that hard, Dad. I don’t know why you’re so scared about it.”
“Well for starters, Peanut, you did break your wrist while skateboarding.”
“Yeah, but… I could’ve broken my wrist by just falling. It’s fun! Come on! If you fall we can try again," she smiled as she started riding around him.
Spencer laughed nervously before kicking off and riding down the driveway. He was doing good, he thought. That was until he went over a rock, throwing him off the skateboard and on to the grass.
“Are you okay?” The girl asked as she walked up to him. He looked up at her and nodded.
“Yeah, just startled.”
Although they agreed on an hour, the father and daughter were outside for a lot longer. Spencer was determined to get it right on the first day. He thoroughly enjoyed the time he spent with his daughter. He could see that she was getting frustrated with his little mistakes, which would end in him falling, but she still remained calm and helped through it.
“Dad… I mean this in the nicest way possible… But you’re bad. You’re not even on the way to getting good... You’re just straight up bad.” She watched as Spencer fell off the skateboard and into the grass for what seemed like the 100th time. He looked up at her from his spot on the ground.
“Yeah, yeah I know,” Spencer sighed as he stood up, “I don’t think I’m built for skateboarding.” He picked up the skateboard and looked down at it. “I might just leave the skateboarding to you, Peanut.”
The girl looked up at him with wide eyes as he offered her the new, nicer skateboard. “You don’t want to keep trying?”
“I think for today I’ve had enough practice. We can do it again another day. But, in the meantime, you can use my skateboard.”
“Really?”
“Do your chores first then you can use it all you want.” Spencer smiled as he handed her the skateboard. She looked down at the new item in her hands with wide eyes. Her old skateboard was no longer a thought in her mind.
“Right! On it!” she exclaimed before running back into the house.
Once Spencer was sure his daughter was inside the house, behind closed doors, he flipped over her old skateboard and stepped on it before doing a successful kick flip and riding it up the driveway. He was just pretending to not know how to ride a skateboard.
After all it was just easy geometry and physics.
if you want to be a part of a taglst or have any comments about this one shot, let me know here
taglist: @thebluetint @muffin-cup @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​ @spencersmagic @babebenhardy​ @spenciegoob​ @reidspoet​​ @ash19871962​ @flipperpenguins​
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genuine-firefly · 3 years
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Sk8 the Infinity Fic Recs
I had an itch to make a fic rec list. I’ve never made one before and atm I’m super into Sk8 the Infinity. It’s not in any particular order or anything. There’s a lot of omegaverse on here, so take notice if that’s not your jam. Also mind the major warnings. Here we go!
“Wind” by a_bit_batty (WIP)
Rated: E
Words: 22,900
Major Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Rape/Non-con
Summary: Langa's upstairs neighbours are LOUD, and he has work early in the morning, so he pays them a visit intending to give them a piece of his mind. But the man who answers the door looks almost... Scared?
https://archiveofourown.org/works/30425268/chapters/75014250
    “Not All Surprises Hurt” by Anxious_Valentine (WIP)
Rated: M
Words: 57,240
Summary: Kaoru wasn't always so cautious or a planner, but certain events throughout his life knocked the spontaneity right out of him and made him fearful of the unknown. He assumes that's why he's maintained his long-standing friendship with Kojiro, even if he was an obnoxious, thirsty gorilla most of the time. But recently, something's shifted between them, something Kaoru's never experienced before, and he's at a loss for how to respond to the changing circumstances.
Kaoru's about to learn though that not all surprises hurt, and even some can be a catalyst for a life he never thought would be possible for a person like him.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/31679624/chapters/78403592
    “Fragile Things” by dia_dove (WIP)
Rated: E
Words: 27,570
Major Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Rape/Non-con
Summary: In one night, everything in Reki's life falls apart.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/30220290/chapters/74466492
  “Fading Scars” Series by DrearyBanana (Complete)
Rated: M, E
Words: 129,999
Major Warnings: Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings
Summary: Reki is trying to get his life back together after crossing Adam and spending three years suffering for it. With the support of his family, he's getting back on his feet and rediscover his passions. The mysterious skater with light blue hair who skates in the park near Reki's house starts to reawaken his interest in skateboarding.
Langa has stumbled his way into being a pro skater after moving to Okinawa, but his heart has never been in it. Everything feels like something to pass the time, and all he wants is to feel that joy he used to get from snowboarding. Slowly, the mysterious redhead who watches him skate starts to make Langa feel like he might be able to get back to that heart-pounding feeling after all.
https://archiveofourown.org/series/2307053
    “You Make It Better” by i6uooh_uiw (complete)
Rated: E
Words: 7,112
Summary: after kaoru's race with adam, he and kojiro have some things to talk about. at least, kojiro would really like to talk.
(or: kaoru doesn't like facing his feelings, kojiro and kaoru can't stop bickering, and kojiro's dick is really very large)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/30028944
    “The Makings of a Home” by Insertsomethingwittyhere (WIP)
Rated: E
Words: 10,112
Major Warnings: Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings
Summary: A drunken night and missed medication leave Kaoru between a rock and a hard place. He had always been careful to keep his dynamic known but out of the way. What better way to prove that being an omega wouldn't affect his performance then to rub his success into the face of an ex thus proving him wrong about his dynamic? Unfortunately, it only takes one too many drinks at Sia la Luce for his world to take a turn into the wacky and stressful -and that's with Adam still at large- as he steps into the uncertainties of parenthood, not with the rag tag pack he'd become part of, but with a child of his own. A baby born of him and Kojiro who he'd always had a crush on, but knew who could never love him back.
Of course now with a baby on the way he only has so much time to decide what to do. So the worries start to pile on.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/30696920/chapters/75748676
    “The One with the School Festival Trope” by LaurelNymph (Complete)
Rated: T
Words: 26,534
Summary: The good ol’ School Festival is here, and Reki gets to use his handyman skills to help his class pull off their event. They’re impressed.
Especially the girls.
Langa is Not Happy about that.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/31745821/chapters/78577891
    “All Was Golden (When the day Met the Night)” by MissLightBright (Complete)
Rated: T
Words: 113,642
Major Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence
Summary: Reki was just a beta. He was boring and unappealing. He had no chance with Langa and he knew it.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/29303079/chapters/71960559
    “Local Skate Dads Adopt Three Sons and a Hooligan” by miyaji_08 (WIP)
Rated: M
Words: 79,779
Major Warnings: Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings
Summary: Cherry and Joe are NOT parents, thank you very much, and they would appreciate it if you could remember that the next time one of their idiots get in trouble.
Or: They don't mean to adopt all these kids, except for the part where they very much do.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/30478317/chapters/75158904
    “Summer Twilight Ricochet” by mousapelli (Complete)
Rated: E
Words: 10,439
Summary: Being almost but not-quite boyfriends with Langa is fun, but Reki's ready to move it along, if he can just figure out how much of it Langa's ready for. (Alpha Langa, Omega Reki)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/30378327
    “Sunrise Eyes an Sunset Hair” (Baby, We’re a Pretty Pair) by Orphan_account (Complete)
Rated: E
Words: 9,600
Summary: "Kaoru," Joe moans and even though it sounds so breathless, he doesn't grant himself the pleasure of fresh air in favor of kissing Cherry again and again and yet again. "Kaoru, Kaoru – what are you doing to me?"
If he could, if only his brain worked in synch with his lips and vocal cords, Cherry would probably ask the same question, turn it on him and demand an answer so desperately because he knows he won't last much longer with this uncertainty in his life. It's already a lasting decay in his mind, he doesn't need it rotting away at his body too.
Cherry is certain Joe will just make him another number in his hook-up statistics if he gives in to his feelings.
Joe is certain he's in love with Cherry.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/32388481
    “Nothing has to Change (but What if I Want it to?) by p_istachio (WIP)
Rated: NR
Words: 17,068
Summary: Langa is the mildest alpha in every sense of the word, and Reki is the most unreserved omega you’ll ever meet. With secondary genders being the last things on their minds, it’s no surprise that both of them are convinced that the other is a beta. How will their dynamic change when they inevitably find out the truth?
(Aka an unconventional ABO au bc renga heals my soul)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/30692324/chapters/75735359
    “Summer Fox and Winter Wolf” by RoseLoveBunny (WIP)
Rated: M
Words: 10,404
Major Warnings: Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings
Summary: Langa an artic wolf alpha just moved with his mom back to her home country of Japan from Canada after his alpha father died last year. After his death Langa refused to pick up a snowboard something that they both enjoyed so when an fox omega came running after him to take back his skateboard maybe he can try something new with someone else.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/29947413/chapters/73716159
    “Kiss the Rain” by SKayLanpher (WIP)
Rated: E
Words: 122,373
Summary: When Langa takes a trip to visit family in Canada, both he and Reki find themselves despairing at the distance. Though neither is apt to admit their true feelings for the other, they miss each other desperately and so start exchanging texts whenever they can. Texts that turn rather scandalous when Reki accidentally sends a nude that he knew he never should have taken in the first place.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/31294271/chapters/77367743
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Love Is Not Over; ksj.
Tumblr media
Pairing: Seokjin x Reader
Genre: Angst. Barely there fluff, you really gotta squint. Exes-to-lovers.
Rating & Warnings: PG15. Swearing. Mentions of alcohol consumption. They argue. The pining hurts my heart and soul.
Word Count: 1,788
A/N: This drabble is a part of the Debut Drabbles collab with my near and dear @mochi-molala over on @homeofbangtan! (Give her some extra love, folks! I got sick in the middle of this collab and she was nothing but patient and kind during the whole shabang!) Thank you to @joyfulhopelox for hyping me up and always supporting what I create. A special thank you to @min-yoon-kween and@sugasbabiie for beta reading this little drabble! An equally as big thank you to @ttaetae for creating the STUNNING banner!
Like my work? Join my taglist!
Kim Seokjin can pinpoint the exact moment he fell in love with you in his memory.
You had been sitting behind him in your foundations of modern literature class as the professor’s lecture droned on endlessly. Jin had mumbled a complaint under his breath and was surprised to hear the sound of suppressed laughter over his shoulder. He could tell by the way your cheeks reddened as he turned to shoot you an amused smirk that you had no intentions of being heard, much less caught in the act. You had sunk into your seat, raising your textbook to shield your flushed face from his view.
He had decided then - Dr. Ford barely taking a break to breathe between sentences as he led a discussion about the themes of transformation and the relativity of truth in the background - that your laugh was one of his favorite sounds and he would do whatever it took to hear it as often as he possibly could.
He spent the rest of the semester occupying the once empty spot beside you, whispering awful puns into your ear, grinning proudly each time you failed to keep your laugh quiet. He loved the way you would shift in your chair until your face was pressed into his shoulder whenever your professor would spare the two of you a disapproving glare.
It had taken him exactly three months to convince you to hang out with him outside of class, another two after that to talk you into being his girlfriend. Then, in one month - only four short weeks - it all fell apart.
Looking back, he should have seen it coming. He had spent so much time wooing you that he never stopped to think about what came next, what happened after the chase was over. He hadn’t seen the signs that had been right in front of him. You spent your time together curled up on the couch in his apartment, watching reruns of sitcoms, trading comments on the mundane back and forth. It didn’t take long for the talking to stop and different variations of the same generic television story arc playing in the background to grow old, the routine feelling stale and worn out.
It had ended quietly.
No shouting.
No fighting.
No, all it took was a whispered “I think we should break up” leaving your lips for Seokjin’s life to come crashing to a halt. He had nearly choked on his chow mein, the Nailed It episode playing in the background long forgotten. You had made it seem so easy, that breaking up with him was as simple as asking him to pass the salt or what the weather was meant to be like the next day.
Now, even just standing across the room, Seokjin couldn’t help but feel like you were hundreds of miles away. His heart tightened as you threw your head back as you laughed at something the boy with his arm around your waist said.
He was younger than Jin. His dark hair fell around his face in waves, lips spread in a wide grin as he watched you with soft doe eyes.
It makes Seokjin’s blood boil, seeing someone else look at you the way he did. The way he still looks at you.
“You’re not very subtle, you know.” Namjoon’s voice brings the elder back to reality, snapping him from his tumultuous thoughts. “You’re staring at her. Again.”
“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Why do you look so upset then?”
“I’m fine.”
“Bullshit. Spit it out.”
“It’s not even that big of a deal.” Seokjin groans, sinking into the couch cushions. “So what if she wants to ditch me to go on dates with the toddler? That’s her prerogative, but why did he have to come tonight?”
“Seriously? Toddler? He’s not even that much younger than us, Jin.” Namjoon snorts out a laugh as he settles into the empty spot beside his friend. He offers him one of the beers in his hand, setting it on the coffee table in front of the couch when the elder refuses in favor of the plastic cup already in his hands. “Do you even realize how jealous you sound right now? They’re dating. Why wouldn’t she bring him?”
“I’m not jealous.” It was a lie and both men knew it. “I just miss my best friend. She’s never around anymore and when she is, he’s there, too.”
“Just because she’s dating this Jungkook guy doesn’t mean that she’s going to stop being your best friend. You’re her favorite. Always have been, always will be.”
“Whatever.”
“I’m serious. Even after the breakup. You guys were never not close. Never one without the other. Maybe you just never got the chance for things to fully sink in. To let the fact that even if you guys were still best friends, you weren’t dating anymore. She wasn’t yours anymore, at least not in the way that she had been.”
“I’m gonna go get some air.” Seokjin downs the rest of his drink, liquor burning the back of his throat and leaving a bitter taste on the tip of his tongue. He crumples the now empty cup, tossing the ruined plastic onto the ground near his feet without much thought. He stands from the couch, hands pulling at the bottom hem of his denim jacket. “It's too stuffy in here.”
Seokjin weaves his way through the mass of bodies, the smell of sweat and cheap cologne invading his senses as he makes a beeline for the balcony door at the far end of the living room.
If he was paying more attention, he would have seen your eyes following his movement, excusing yourself from your conversation with Jungkook to follow after him, stumbling in your steps as you try to catch up with him without knocking into anyone.
“Hey.” Your voice is soft as you reach out to stop him from closing the sliding glass door before you can make it outside. “Are you okay?”
“Fine.” He mumbles, leaning against the balcony railing.
The city is alive below, neon lights illuminating the dark streets and casting vibrant shadows across the pavement. The fresh air is a much needed reprieve from the crowded apartment, the small living room jam packed with faces and names that blur together and leave Seokjin’s temples throbbing with an inevitable headache. His palms are sweaty and he hopes you don’t catch him wiping them dry on his jeans, one hand at a time.
“I know you better than that.” You tilt your head, leaning forward to get a better look at his face, catching the grimace that contorts his features. The downturn of the corners of his mouth is a drastic change from his usual smile. “What is it, Jin?”
“Just drop it, Y/N, and go back inside. It’s cold and you’re not wearing a jacket. You’re going to get sick if you stay out here.”
“No.”
“Y/N.”
“You heard me. No.”
“Stop.” A warning.
“No!” You feel your cheeks heat, the flames spreading until the tips of your ears are consumed by them and left painted a bright red. You know that you probably resemble a stubborn child throwing a fit because they aren’t getting their way, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not now, not when you know there’s something bothering Seokjin and instead of opening up to you, he’s holding you at arms length. “I’m not going to stop! You can’t just shut me out, Jin! We don’t do that! Not to each other!”
You don’t think he’s going to answer and, when he does, you almost wish he hadn’t. The pleading look in his eyes when he shifts his gaze to you is nearly enough to leave you with regret that you hadn’t surrendered and abandoned the chase. Maybe some things were well and truly better left unsaid.
“What?” Seokjin straightens his back and fixes you with a narrowed gaze. “I’m shutting you away? Are you kidding me right now? If anyone is shutting someone out, it’s you!”
“Me?!”
“Yes! You, Y/N!” His voice is sharp, the bitterness that has gripped his heart for longer than he cared to admit slipping out and lacing his tone. His hands ball into tight fists at his side, muscles in his arms straining and knuckles white. “Ever since Jungkook came into the picture, you’ve been distant! You never come over anymore, never answer my calls! I get that you’re moving on but we’re still friends! Best friends!”
“Is that what this is all about? Jungkook?”
Jin’s cheeks are flushed - whether from the cold or the alcohol you had seen him downing earlier in the night you aren’t sure.
“What if it is? It doesn’t matter. It wouldn’t change anything, so what’s the point?”
A loud, echoing crack of thunder sounds overhead. The first drops of rain begin to make their descent from the graying sky, goosebumps dusting your skin at the contact. Seokjin moves on instinct, shrugging out of his jacket and draping it over your shoulders to shield you from the rain and chilled wind. He lets himself fasten the buttons, smoothing down the collar before taking a step back.
The sadness that seems to consume him leaves your chest aching; heart beating wildly, hammering violently against your ribs.
“You don’t know that.”
“What?”
“You don’t know that it wouldn’t change anything. You’re just assuming it won’t.”
“I just...” He says with a sigh, shoulders falling limp. Defeated. “I don’t even know what went wrong between us. I don’t know what changed. I thought that maybe staying friends was better than losing you completely, but it’s worse. It’s so much worse. I see you with him and I feel like I’m going to be sick. I hate that someone else gets to look at you like I did, that they get to touch you and make you laugh. That should be me.”
“Jin...”
“Just tell me.” The crack is his voice, the tears welling in his eyes. The Seokjin standing before you now is nothing short of broken. “Tell me what I can do to fix it and I will. I’ll do anything. I just...I can’t be just friends. Not with you. I never said it before but I’ll say it now. I love you. I’m in love with you. Don’t tell me that it’s over. It can’t be over.”
He reaches forward and pulls you into his chest, arms wrapping around your waist and you know then.
No one was Seokjin.
No one ever would be.
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sparkypantaloons · 3 years
Text
Only Pieces
Every time he sees Jason he has to remind himself that it’s real. His son, his precious boy, is here and breathing and living. But, alive or not, he still died. And that bit never goes away.
Jason came back, but Bruce still mourns his death.
Love is the whole thing. We are only pieces.
It hits Bruce out of nowhere. Like a rabid wolf materialising out of the warm afternoon air, savaging him in to pieces of the man he once was. Breath, bone and sinew; torn apart and thrown up into the atmosphere. He can’t see, he can’t hear, he can’t speak. Why would he need to? He’s nothing but fragments now. Left to rot down into dust.
“You okay, B?” Tim asks, looking at him concerned.
He pulls his mortarboard hat off Jason’s head, elbows his brother in the ribs.
Bruce blinks. Tries to pull the shards of himself back together. Cobble them into something that resembles human.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, old man.” Jason says, side-eyeing him. He shrugs off the graduation gown as he speaks, throws it over Tim’s head.
Tim huffs, grabbing at the swathes of fabric. His hair sticks up in all directions as the cloth falls into his hands.
Bruce manages a stiff nod. Clears his throat. “We need to leave in five.” He says. The words rise in his throat like glass.
Tim shrugs. “Ready when you are.”Jason doesn’t say anything. He just stares at the older man, eyes narrowed.
Bruce turns. Leaves the library. His vision is blurring, he feels like he might be sick.
Somehow he finds his way to his study. He closes the door more heavily than he intended and it rattles in its frame. The sound is like an assault, all at once too loud and barely audible over the rushing in his ears.
He sits in the chair behind his desk. Gropes for the second drawer down on the right hand side. The whiskey bottle rattles as he yanks the drawer open. Then the liquid rattles down his throat as he drinks straight from the bottle. It doesn’t burn the way it used to, but it still works. Just.
His senses return. Taste first, then smell, the woody flavour of the spirit left lingering in his mouth. Then he can feel the bottle in his hand, round and smooth under his calloused fingers. He watches the liquid settle as he places it down on the desk, the blurring at the edge of his vision disappearing. He can breathe again.
He slumps back in the chair, tilts his head back and takes a deep breath through his nose. A tear escapes the corner of his eye before he can stop it. He wipes it away quickly and takes another deep breath. He can’t do this now.
“Master Bruce?” Alfred is stood in the doorway. His eyes slide from the younger man to the bottle on his desk, and he tilts his head knowingly. “The boys are waiting.” He says gently.
Bruce nods. His eyes are in danger of blurring again. “Jason, he…” He croaks. He screws his eyes shut, takes another steadying breath.
“I know, Master Bruce.” Alfred says kindly. “I saw.”
~
Bruce drives Tim to his graduation ceremony and Dick comes too. Tim makes his brother sit in the back because even if Dick is the oldest, it’s Tim’s graduation. They chatter away on the journey and Bruce makes sure to laugh or interject at the right moments, to frown or make disapproving sounds when he should. But he’s gripping the steering-wheel too tightly and he’s not fool enough to think they haven’t noticed.
When they arrive, they have photos taken of the three of them. Dick and Bruce in dark blue suits, Tim in between them in his academic regalia. They grin brightly but Bruce only just remembers to let go of Tim when it’s over. Remember’s that he can’t hold his children in his arms forever, no matter how much he wants to.
They mingle before the ceremony, meeting some of Tim’s friends and their families. Brucie Wayne comes out, and Bruce manages to lose himself in the performance. He almost convinces himself that he’s okay, is sure that he will have at least convinced the boys. But when he and Dick take their seats in the hall and Tim has left to sit with the rest of his class, Dick reaches down and takes his hand. He squeezes it tightly and says under his breath “You’re okay, Bruce. It’s okay.”
Bruce has to take another deep breath, then makes the command decision that enough is enough. He slips his hand out of Dick’s, takes out his phone and opens an old WhatsApp group. He sends a short message, then mutes the chat before any replies come through.Today is about Tim.
Bruce slips the phone back into his pocket. He can fall apart later.
~
Tim accepts his degree and they have more photos. He throws his mortarboard higher than any of the other graduates, and then he puts the cape on Bruce and the hat on Dick for one last photo, grinning between them and clutching his certificate, one arm wrapped tightly around Bruce’s waist.
Back at the Manor there are more photos and Alfred opens some champagne. Steph and Babs are there, Cass and Damian and Jason too. Together they laugh and hug and clink glasses and order pizza for dinner, because Tim didn’t want Alfred cooking when he should be celebrating with his family.
Bruce lets himself slip under the surface of the noise, the sound of his children, bickering and joking and breathing and growing. The sound of the living. He lets the sheer life of them wash over him, feels the splinters of his heart float to the surface. He can breathe again.
Dick watches him from across the room. Bruce pretends not to notice.
~
It’s a long few hours later when he checks his phone. The old group chat full with unannounced messages.
He slips quietly out of the drawing room. The hallway is cold away from the warmth of his family. He suppresses a chill and makes his way to his study.
Sat at his desk in the quiet and the dark, he feels some of his resolve seep out of him. The Zoom loading wheel spins, then faces begin to populate the screen. There’s Judy in the top right, her horn rimmed glasses sitting atop her thick curly hair. Sal is just beneath her, his French bulldog snoozing in his lap. Top left is Bhavin, Ganesh sat on a shelf behind him, peeking out behind the cloud of white hair. Beneath him, in the bottom left of the screen, is Bruce. Elbows resting on the desk, heels of his hands pressed into his eyes.
“Oh darlin’.” Sal’s southern drawl comes through the speakers. “What happened?”
Bruce can’t speak. His throat has closed up. He’s trying desperately to force his tears back into his eyes, but they slip down under his hands anyway.
"Didn’t your boy graduate today?” Bhavin asks. He’s lived in the US fifty years, but his voice still carries the sound of his native Mumbai.Bruce manages a nod.
“Ah damn.” Judy says softly, pushing a hand to her chest. “That’s hard.”
“It’s been years.” Bruce croaks out. “This shouldn’t… I shouldn’t…”
“Shouldn’t what?” Bhavin asks him sharply. “Shouldn’t still mourn your child? What his life could have been?”
Bruce takes a deep breath. He finally looks at the screen. “I just… I know today was about Tim, but all I could see was Jason in the cap and gown, clear as day. And all I could think was how he should have graduated. How he should have grown up and been safe and happy and whole and…” He trails off. Stops himself before the tears threaten to spill again.
“He should have.” Judy says emphatically. “Jason should have had all those things. And so should my Tiana, and Sal’s Michelle and Bhavin’s Darshan.”
“It’s not fair.” Sal adds. “It’s not fucking fair and it’ll never be easy. Because you love your boy and he shouldn’t have been taken so soon.”
“My Darshan died forty years ago.” Bhavin says solemnly. “I still cry. I still wonder what he would be like now, who he would have become. Still rage he is not here with me. It never goes away.”
Bruce nods, and it’s Bhavin’s last sentence that keeps the guilt at bay. Because of course Bruce can’t tell them that Jason isn’t dead anymore. He can’t tell them how Jason dragged his small broken bones out of his own grave and clawed his way back to life. How he’s currently sat not fifty feet away, under Bruce’s own roof, surrounded by family and warmth and love.
And part of it doesn’t feel fair. That his boy came back when their children didn’t. But he’d gladly spend the rest of eternity paying whatever debt it is he owes for that miracle. Every time he sees Jason he has to pinch himself, remind himself that it’s real. His son is alive, his precious boy is here and breathing and living.
But, alive or not, he still died. And that bit never goes away.The grief of it comes out of nowhere. On a Tuesday afternoon, in the middle of a board meeting, or out on patrol on a Thursday night. It’ll hit him when he’s eating breakfast, or brushing his teeth, when he’s in the gym, or lying in bed… and the ground will fall out from under him. He’ll plummet into an abyss of grief and despair and rage. His boy, his darling boy. Dead. The life he could have lived, the wonder he could have been. Gone.
Because even if Jason is back, is alive, the dying never goes away.
All the pain and torment that came with it is here to stay, for good. He’ll never be what he could have been and Jason never deserved that.
It’s these three people, these once-strangers, who in some ways helped keep him alive just as much as Tim did, that bring him back from that edge. People who understand just as well as him that feeling of loss. How a taste or a smell can mean nothing one day and have you drowning the next.
Bruce hadn’t bothered to respond when Leslie had suggested he join a support group. She couldn’t possibly understand what it was to lose a child; what value could her advice possibly have? But then the rational part of his mind, what sad, little fragment of it was left, said that a support group could understand. That that was the whole point.
So he’d done it. Apprehensive though he was, he’d shown up on a rainy Wednesday evening all those years ago. At a church hall that wasn’t quite warm enough, serving coffee that was all but cold. Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd’s father. Turns out grief takes the edge off celebrity. Judy and Sal and Bhavin didn’t care who he was, only what he’d been through, only what he’d lost. Being a billionaire didn’t make you immune from loss. Hell, neither did being Batman. Nothing did. They understood that. In a way no-one else in his life did. And all these years later they understood it, still.
“You’re allowed to be sad, Bruce.” Judy says. “A hundred years from now you’re still allowed to be sad. But you have to keep on.”
“Remember Tim did it for him too.” Sal says. “Your boys and Cass are living for Jason too. Just like you are.”
Judy and Bhavin nod in agreement and Bruce finds himself joining in.
“Thank you.” He says. And he means it. “As always.”
“Any time, beta.” Bhavin says. “Any time.”
The screen goes black, and Bruce sits with his thoughts a moment. Already a weight has started to lift and he finds himself glad the night isn’t over yet. That his family is waiting just a short walk away.
Ace pads into the room, rest his head on Bruce’s knee. He scratches the dog behind his ears.
“Err… what are you doing?”
Bruce startles. Dick is stood in the doorway, staring at him with a look of concern.
“Why are you sat in the dark?”
Bruce can’t quite help himself when he says. “I’m Batman.”
Dick rolls his eyes so aggressively they might pop out of his head.
“What are you two doing?” Jason walks in to join them. “Why are you in here in the dark?”
“Why are you in here in the dark?” Dick shoots back.
“I came looking for you.” Jason shoves Dick lightly.
“I came looking for him.” Dick shoves him right back.
Bruce stands and walks towards them. He can't help but smile. “Mission accomplished.” He says. “What fine detectives you both are.”
This time Jason rolls his eyes, but Dick says, “You okay, B?”
Bruce nods, puts his arms around both of their shoulders as they leave the study, and maybe, just maybe, he squeezes Jason a little tighter than normal, relishes the solid aliveness of his second son in his arms. “I’m fine.” He says. “Just fine.”
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goggles-mcgee · 3 years
Note
Hi! Three questions! Sorry, I have so many. Can you tell us more about the relationship between Marinette and the batfamily in Wish me away? Can you tell us more class salt and Adrien salt in Ivy’s sampling? And... Can you tell us more about the daminette relationship in Ivy’s sampling? Please and Thank you.
Hi! Don't apologize! That's perfectly fine OuO
Wish Me Away:
It's hard at first for them all because they have never been around a baby, nor have they cared for a baby. The only one capable is Alfred but they all want to help out with her and get to know her, especially after hearing what she went through. Bruce really tries the hardest as he is now her father after the adoption and everything, and this time he really will get to experience one of his child's childhood with them. So he is taking it very seriously, but it means he's kind of a really big hoverparent.
Dick is in love with little Marietta and can't wait for Barbara to meet her. He tries to show her as much love as his parents gave him growing up in the circus, and he definitely takes her on the trapeze and everything just like his parents said they did with him. He just wants to make her happy.
Jason loves her too, but he's like Bruce, he's very protective of her. If he takes her anywhere he always carries her or has her in a stroller or has her on one of those backpack leash things. He will always go running when he hears her scream, even if he thinks it could be a false alarm or something small like she accidentally bumped into the wall again. He just wants her to feel safe. It's why when she has nightmares, he's one of the only ones that can calm her.
Tim liked to teach her things, he caught on that she was already pretty smart for her age so he takes time out of his day to teach her whatever he can think of. She already can count to ten in French, so they're working on doing it in English. He always makes sure to take breaks. If he sees Mari take an interest in something, he already makes a note to teach her a little something about whatever caught her eye. He wants her to know that no matter what catches her interest, he will be there to support her every step of the way.
Damian took awhile to get used to her and get over his feelings of jealousy but when he did, he felt such love for his little sister. There was a respect for her there after knowing what she had survived. He decided he would be the one to teach her to not bottle up her anger or other negative emotions. So everytime he saw her get angry and throw things he would take her to his room or the library to draw out her frustrations or paint them out. Or he would take her to play fetch with Titus. Or let her "spar" with him. He wanted her to know what his family had taught him over the six years he had been there, it was okay to have emotions, to have anger, and you could always find something else to do than resort to violence.
Alfred took to her the fastest. He was probably the most heartbroken about her situation when Tikki and Plagg explained it so he liked to spend time with her and get to know her. So he baked and let her watch or "help" (he really just put water in a bowl and asked her to stir it) he found she really liked to talk. She knew a lot of words, in French, Mandarin, and English but she did babble like any baby did, and she would babble at him like she was telling a story. Which, he guessed, she likely was, so he would listen and he would ask questions or would hum to let her know he was listening. He wanted Marietta to know she would always be heard in the manor, that she would always have someone who would listen to her.
Ivy's Sapling:
The salt. Adrien's salt is he's getting more aggressive in his passive aggressive ways of "dealing" with Marinette, and her "unwillingness to follow direction." Specifically his directions about the high road. He doesn't realize that he is essentially turning into his father with Marinette. He points out all her faults to her at the end of the day when they talk, he says it's to help her but Marinette knows he's doing it because he can finally tell someone they are wrong.
No matter what she does he always tries to get her alone at the end of the day so they can talk, and he always guilt trips her. Basically saying they won't hang out if she continues in her behavior or he won't be by her side anymore if she can't take the high road and just let Lila be. But then Marinette starts to snap because the class step up from the isolation. They start playing "pranks" on her and basically say they'll stop if she apologizes to Lila for bullying her.
Marinette finally tells Adrien no at one of their daily talks and genuinely asks him what she has done wrong. Tells him to tell her specifically what she has done that is wrong or lying or bullying behavior towards her former friends and/or Lila. When he can't say anything he gets mad and grabs her, he has always been a touchy person but when she tells him to let go, he won't. She gets more mad and demands he give her a reason why she is in the wrong.
Then Adrien yells at her, "Why can't you just keep the peace!? This is my escape from home and you're ruining it! Why can't you just fall in line and keep quiet!?"
That's when Marinette truly understands that Lila had turned all her friends in that class against her. Adrien wasn't with her. He never was probably, he just wanted her to pretend everything was fine and continue to let their friends get hurt and manipulated all so he could continue to have a stress free escape. It doesn't stop after that because he starts to visit as Chat Noir and she thinks that Adrien has talked Chat into being on his side. He's basically starts to threaten her as well and says she really will be all alone if she doesn't stop her attitude and go back to the way she used to be.
Unlucky for him Chloe, Sabrina, Aurore and Mireille had all been in the locker room and heard all of it. Aurore had videotaped it too.
That's how Marinette gets her little squad of friends.
Adrien as Chat gets worse in his advances on Ladybug and starts sitting out on fights, keeps trying to kiss her without her permission, has gone to several papers and said they are dating despite what Ladybug has said, and just in general being a slimy guy.
He's basically becomes another Lila in her life.
The class as a whole, like I said pull pranks on Marinette but it's really just bullying her. They spill things on her, her seat seems to always be wet with something in the mornings, she started to laminate her homework since some came up shredded or stained or soggy, nothing gets left in her locker if she can help it, if it is she makes more booby-trapped things to keep them safe since they go missing or are defaced or just utterly destroyed. And of course Mlle Bustier does nothing about it.
Marinette has tried to step down as class president but Lila convinced the class she is trying to do it to punish them for siding with Lila. Mlle Bustier firmly denies Marinette's request and just continues to lecture her about the Marinette's of the world.
Even despite her friends trying to help her anyway they can and collecting evidence to make a case for the Board of Education, Marinette, no Marigold has enough and moves back to Gotham with the help of Bruce Wayne.
When the class comes back from the weekend and Marinette isn't there, they think nothing of it, they just think she's sick but then Mlle Bustier frowns and goes to the principals. When she gets back she announces that Marinette's parents sent her away and that she has moved, is that the wrong information? Yes! Did Mlle Bustier care and check her facts? No!
The whole class is stunned because they did go to Tom and Sabine and tell them about Marinette's behavior, but they didn't think they would send her away!
Lila is also stunned because she also didn't think they would send her away because they seemed to love Marinette so much, no matter what she did (or didn't do.) Now they had no class president and really she had been trying to keep Marinette in that position because as loathe as she was to say it, the girl was good at it.
Adrien is more mad than stunned. He thinks Marinette was just running away from everything.
Marigold met Damian when she was out buying fabric after she finished getting settled at home with Ivy and Harley that week. He was out walking when she accidentally knocked him over with her shopping bags, of course he was originally annoyed at getting knocked over but he had to at least be polite. He noticed she wasn't from there and well, she was a foreigner with a lot of shopping bags, she was small, and a girl, she would run into trouble whether she wanted it or not. So he decided to play tourguide in a sense and went shopping with her and eventually they went out for a bite to eat at the end of it.
Of course they did end up finding trouble and a couple of thugs tried to rob them. Damian had sighed because really, he had seen it coming, what he didn't see coming was Marigold pushing him behind her, her throwing one of her shopping bags at one of the robbers and while he was distracted she took him and his friends down. When it was all said in done she had checked to make sure Damian was okay. And honestly he had to take a minute to ask himself that too.
That was the start of their friendship.
It took awhile for both of them to admit they had feeling for the other, but it was well into their friendship. Damian had had a good meltdown over the fact she was Ivy's daughter, while she had had one over the fact he was The Damian Wayne. She didn't treat him any differently but she had been shocked and even more determined not to let him pay for their outings like he insisted he should.
The more time they spent together the more they fell for each other. The tipping point was when Marigold finally told him everything that happened back in Paris, about the class and Adrien and Lila, and about being Marinette and Ladybug. He in turn told her about the League and about being an Al Ghul and about being Robin. That's when they started dating.
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groovyzombiellama · 3 years
Text
The Golden/Stylish Trio
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Title: The Golden/Stylish Trio
Requested? Yes.
Plot: You are an actress and shoot a project with Alex and Bill and the two of them have a crush on you.
Word count: 1617
—***—
Ever since you were a child, you knew that you wanted to be an actress, and it didn’t matter how many people told you that you shouldn’t dream so high and that you were gonna fail, that just made you want to work more just to prove them wrong. You were constantly told that you wouldn’t have enough work, and that being an actress is stressful and difficult. Of course you knew that, in their own way every job is difficult, but you didn’t mind it because you knew that you would have difficult moments, but you were ready for whatever that world had to throw at you, because at least  that way, you would be doing something you love. You had the support of your immediate family, like your parents in the first place, and so you decided to take a chance and start your path towards making your dreams come true.
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At first you had it quite difficult, not really being what the casting agent was looking for, both in terms of character and in your lack of experience. You had sleepless nights thinking about how you were supposed to gather experience when nobody wanted to give you a chance to gain any of it. And you expected this, so it wasn’t a surprise to you, and it just motivated you to do better and go to some classes and stuff, but that doesn’t mean getting rejected so many times didn’t hurt you. There were times where you would feel like the people who told you that you wouldn’t be able to make it were right and that you should just give up and go back home. Your family was alright with you coming back and going to college for something else, but just like your friends, they believed that you could do it and that every beginning is hard, but that doesn’t mean that you won’t succeed. And indeed, with patience, it started happening, you started getting cast.
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Of course, you wouldn’t be able to get a lead role right off the bat, but you were getting work as eather a background character, or a very minor character that maybe had one or two lines. And even though it was something small and didn’t mean a lot of camera time, you were still extatic and extremly grateful and happy to even be getting any work at all. Your portfolio was growing, your list of work experience was becoming longer and longer, and a lot of casting agents saw your passion and dedication to acting, to the point where you even got cast as a supporting character in a movie, the so called “best friend trope”, and your lines consisted of pep talks and you were honestly just there to lift up the lead character. But it was the longest time you had spent in front of the camera so far and the most speaking lines you had gotten, so to say you were grateful and excited would be understatements.
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You had no idea where all of this was gonna take you, but you were so proud of yourself for not giving up on your dreams. You even sent tickets for that movie to your cousins who didn’t believe you could make it and some of the people who bullied you and said you would never amount to nothing. It wasn’t to spite them, not too much anyway, because you never were a person to hold a grudge or feel good if others are feeling down. You just wanted to tell them that hard work will always pay off and that hard work can beat talent if talent doesn’t work hard. You were getting recognized and it was blowing your mind to be walking down the street and hear people talking about you as you pass them, guessing if you were the girl they had seen in that movie. And it made you smile every time. Eventually you ended up getting an e-mail that changed your life in a drastic way. A huge gig, bigger than any you have had before, with actors that you admired.
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You had known Bill Skarsgård from his role as Roman Godfrey in Hemlock Groove, and as the iconic clown, Pennywise, in the most recent IT movies. And when your agent told you that he was gonna be one of your costars, you had to sit down, as your legs felt like they were gonna give out. He always seemed like a truly pleasant person to be around and an actor who really cares about the craft. And his good looks were just a bonus to a very amazing person. And that was the case for your other costar who once again gave you that feeling that you were gonna collapse if you keep standing. The Ivar the Boneless from Vikings, Victor from Outsiders, Alex Høgh Andersen. Alex always had the appeal as a literal ray of sunshine to you and it made your head feel dizzy to be working with them at all, and even when you met them, you couldn’t believe it was true.
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Both Bill and Alex found you adorable as you tried not to fangirl around them, and be your cool self, or at least what you thought was cool. Bill had known about you as he had watched one of the movies you were in and he admired the way you put everything you had into your character, so he already knew some things about you, but even with that, you had managed to amaze him beyong belief. To Alex. meeting you was completely new territory, but he was enjoying every second of it, seeing the way every part of you contained the character you were supposed to potray. Even your eyes would show the emotion your character was supposed to be feeling that both men were dangerously close to apologising to you the moment they looked into your eyes as you were filming a scene where you were supposed to have a disagreement or fight.
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Both Alex and Bill felt like they were learning a lot from you, as much as you were learning from them. And your vibrant personality, combined with that smile of yours were enough for them to develp crushes on you. It amazed them that neither one of them was able to say anything to you, that when it came to you, they would feel nervous or get tongue tied. When the two of them were talking and you came up, the shock on both of their faces, wide eyed expressions were almost comical as they realised the second they started talking about you that they had crushes on you. They didn’t want to make this a rivalry between them and try to win you over from one or the other. They were gonna leave the choice to you if you ever developped feelings for one of them and the other was gonna support you both. But that didn’t stop them from admiring you constantly and gushing about you in interviews and to each other.
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As more time passed, the more the three of you started getting closer, so much so that they put up with the silly nicknames that you gave them and even though Billy and Lexie weren’t their favorite, and they honestly prefered some of your more creative nicknames, or standard “love” or “hun” that you loved calling people who were important to you, they cared about you enough to accept you just the way you were, which meant the world to you. Bill’s brother Gustaf was really glad that his costar from Vikings was friends with his brother, because the cast of the show had become like his second family in a way, and now you were a very dear friend to all of them.
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Every interview that you did with these boys was a blast, you would always have fun and if they even sensed that you were feeling uncomfortable with a question or something, the both of them would create a diversion, as you woke up in them the feeling to be protective over you, but not too much that you feel suffocated, but just enough for people to know that you were not someone to mess with, both because of you being a strong and independent woman, and also because you had the two of them who had your back as much you had theirs. You three were truly a great trio, and your friendship was one that you were sure was for the books and that it was gonna last.
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Regardless of the fact that their crushes were growing by the day and often times they had to stop themselves from spending entire interviews talking about you, they never forced you into anything, or tried to convince you that one of them was better for you than the other. And their biggest pet peeve was when you didn’t believe in yourself and always claimed that “people were just too kind to you” whenever someone complimented you, because they just wanted you to know that to them you were absolutely amazing and to so many people who were fans of you. But they appreciated that you were kinda using that to keep your humble nature, worried that if you started giving yourself that much credit, you would become vain and too self absorbed. They were thankful that they met you and hoped your friendship lasted a long time, even if nothing more developped from it. You were the Golden Trio, named by the entertainement industry, or the Stylish Trio as fans started calling you after Alex’s post, and you were happy with it.
---***---
SURPRISE @walkxthexmoon !! You wanted either one of aus that I do, but you were always sweet to me and kind, that you get all of it, written, gif and social media au :D <3 I truly hope you like it :)
I appreciate all of you guys and thank you all for your follows, likes, reblogs, I’ll never be able to thank you all enough. Every time I get an e-mail telling me someone followed me, it makes my entire week better and keeps me motivated! So thank you to all of you, I love you all so much, and if people are nice to me I do my damnest to be 10x nicer, because you deserve it back, so this fic took a lot longer to make than I thought, and hopefully it’s a good one and you guys like it, and just once again, I appreaciate all of you <3
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mochegato · 3 years
Text
Hope on Board
Chapter 6 – Everything Happens in Its Own and Usually Most Inconvenient Possible Time
Chapter 1     Chapter 5
The gala was going better than anticipated.  Despite feeling like she stuck out like weed in a field of flowers, things seemed to be going well.  Marinette had talked with more people than she could remember and they all seemed to walk away happily and interested in her work except for a few pompous assholes who couldn’t keep their eyes off her growing chest.  Admittedly, she was showing more cleavage than she anticipated, but she was blaming that on the baby that was enlarging her chest already.
Luckily, she had Adrien to watch out for her and keep them from doing anything more than just look. More importantly, Tim seemed impressed with her designs for the gala and could pick out the outfits that were hers. That was two big checks for the night. The rest of her life might be going to hell, but at least this night was going smoothly.
Whereas she felt like she was an imposter in the ranks, Adrien seemed to blend into the crowd seamlessly. Laughing sensibly at the right times, sharing knowing looks that confused Marinette with the other party goers, smiling politely at the right bad jokes.  He led her to the right people to get to know and whispered in her ear the right things to say to them.
She watched Adrien flourish and felt a twinge of guilt.  This was the product of his dad.  She was benefitting from Gabriel’s abuse toward Adrien.  She grabbed Adrien’s arm to get his attention and looked up at him with sad eyes.  He gave her a soft smile and excused them politely from the conversation they were in. “It’s okay, Mari.  I’m okay,” he assured her.  He looked back out to the crowd.
“How about a fun one next?” he urged her.  
Marinette gave him a halfhearted smile and nodded.  If he could do this then so could she.  He was doing this for her.  She could hold up her end.  She nodded and smiled politely at people as she passed.  One woman lit up at her so Marinette stopped to talk to her, letting Adrien continue on without her.  After a very amusing conversation with a breath of fresh air named Selina Kyle, Marinette searched for Adrien in the crowd.  Luckily, he hadn’t wandered too far away.  She caught his attention and he turned to her with a wide smile.
“And this is Marinette Dupain-Cheng.  Marinette, this is Richard Grayson.”
Marinette looked over to the new man, still trying to keep all the names of people she had met already. There were too many names.  There was no way she was going to remember this new person’s name.  She looked in the new man’s eyes… familiar eyes and a familiar but strained smile. Why were those eyes familiar? “Fuck…” Marinette let out before she could stop herself.
Adrien froze.  Richard froze.  That name wasn’t right.  That definitely wasn’t the name he had given her.  Did he give her a fake name?  
“Uh, hi.” Dick offered with a strained smile.  “It’s nice to meet you. Dick Grayson.”  He wasn’t sure what their relationship was, but if she was in a relationship with Adrien, he wasn’t going to intentionally destroy it despite the twinge in his heart. That would explain the hasty exit from his apartment though.
“He is Bruce Wayne’s son,” Adrien gently reminded her, “Tim’s brother.”  
“Fuck!” Marinette groaned out louder. Tears were starting to appear in her eyes.  This could not be happening.  Not here.  Not now. She was not prepared for this conversation.  She was supposed to be networking for her job, for the partnership and her store. She did not have time for this!  Why now.  Why after all their searching and attempts to retrace her steps did it have to happen now?
He was Tim’s brother and Bruce Wayne’s son.  One of, if not the richest man in the world and the current holder of her exclusive contract.  Dick was going to hate her.  He was going to think she trapped him into this.  He was going to think she was a manipulative bitch who shouldn’t be allowed to raise children and take the baby away and never let her see it.  She would only get to see him or her or them whenever Richard took them out in public.  The baby was going to get a new mother and would call her ‘Maman’.  And what if that new mom didn’t like having a stepchild?  What if she didn’t love them like they deserved?  What if they thought Marinette didn’t want them?
“Are you okay?” Adrien asked quietly.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Marinette exclaimed shaking her hands to release anxiety.  She could no longer breathe and tears were starting to gather in the corner of her eyes.
“Mari?” Adrien looked between Marinette and Richard a few times before a realization set in.  “Oh my God.  He said his name was Dick.  It’s him! It’s ladybug shirt guy!” He said with a smile.  “We found him!  I’m telling Chloe.  She is going to die.”
“No!” Marinette jumped at him to grab his phone, attracting the attention of the people around them. But at this point, Marinette no longer cared.  She had more important things to focus on.
“Well, I have more mingling to do and you,” he pushed Marinette toward Dick hard enough for her to stumble and Dick to reach out and steady her, “have some talking to do.  Good luck.  I won’t go too far.  Let me know if you need me… for anything...”  He looked at Marinette sincerely with his last statement before giving Dick a less friendly look.  “… anything at all.”
Marinette looked up at Dick through her lashes.  Her fear was radiating out of her and it made Dick want to wrap her up and hold her until she smiled.  “How… how have you been?”
Marinette looked around them noticing now close everyone was and a few people who were leaning back expressly to eavesdrop.  She eyed them warily and responded loudly enough for them to hear, “We haven’t caught up in a bit.  Let’s go somewhere and talk where the music isn’t so loud.”
Dick followed her eyes and nodded, leading her out of the ballroom and into the closed section of the manor.  He could feel the apprehension as she walked, making him nervous as well.  He didn’t know what was about to happen but he could tell it was significant.  He just didn’t know if it was good significant or bad significant.
“We should be good here. Nobody but family is allowed back here.” He looked around anxiously as if to confirm, but really it was just something for him to do, something to focus on besides her.  “I was hoping to talk to you after… after that night but realized I didn’t get your number.  I tried going back to the club to look for you, but...”
“It closed.  Yeah… I tried going back to the club, too.” Dick brightened up at that.  She had searched for him too.  It wasn’t just him that wanted to try for something more.  “I wanted to maybe just show up at your door, but I think I was still drunk when I left and…,” she scrunched up her face in uncertainty, “I saw all the weapons on the counter and when I heard you waking up in the bedroom, I just ran.  I didn’t pay attention to where I was.  And then I thought about the weapons and thought… maybe I shouldn’t.”
The realization hit Dick and he cursed under his breath.  He was going to kill Jason.  “My brother is paranoid, Jason not Tim, who you apparently know.  Living in Gotham is bad enough but he… we get targeted a lot so he… those were his weapons, not mine.  I swear.  None of them were mine and they normally aren’t even there, I just wouldn’t let them take them to the club,” he rushed out to try to assure her.  
Her eyes searched his. He held his breath praying she found what she was looking for, or not finding it, depending on the question she was trying to answer.  Whichever answer let him talk to her again, he hoped she found it.  After a few moments, she must have found some answer because she gave him a weak smile and nodded slightly.  Dick let out the breath he had been holding.  She didn’t seem entirely convinced, but Dick would take it. He could work with it if she gave him a chance.  He nervously rubbed the back of his neck.  Now he had a chance, what was he going to do with it?  “So… how have you been?”
“Pregnant,” Marinette answered quickly, instantly regretting not saying it more sensitively, easing him into the realization.  She had freaked out, it stood to reason that he would as well.
Dick’s eyes widened in shock and his breath shortened.  He looked down to her belly and back up to her face.  A look of panic was plastered on his face.  He was not ready.  How did it even happen?  He thought they had used precautions.  And he had provided the condom and put it on so it wasn’t as though she could have sabotaged anything.  Holy shit! He was going to be a dad.  How was he going to balance that?  How was he going to be a dad and Nightwing? Shit!  He couldn’t take care of himself.  How was he supposed to take care of a child?  He was pretty sure they ate more than cereal.
“I’m so sorry!” Marinette rushed out seeing his whole body going into shock.  “I’m so very, very sorry!  I swear I don’t expect anything.  I don’t… I didn’t… This wasn’t on purpose.  I swear!  I wasn’t trying to get pregnant.” Tears were now freely falling down her cheeks and marring her dress.  Thank God she had waterproof mascara but the water stains were still making their mark.
“How…”
She chuckled mirthlessly. “Did you know semen leaks out before the… end?  Cuz’ I didn’t.” She wiped tears away as she spoke.  “Or rather I did, I just didn’t think it was enough to do anything.  But, if you’re truly lucky, that’s enough.  So if you wait to put a condom on until just before… the end, you can still get pregnant.”
“And you… you’re sure…” He didn’t know how to ask the question tactfully.
She drew a sharp breath and looked down wiping away a few more tears.  “Yeah.  I… I broke up with my boyfriend a little under a year ago.  There… um… there hasn’t been anyone else since then.”  
He nodded dumbly.  That was pretty conclusive.  Unless there was a sudden case of immaculate conception going on, that was his baby.  “Okay.”
She turned her eyes to him, her expression somber.  “I didn’t… I don’t expect you to do anything, not participation, not child support, nothing. I just… I thought you deserved to know even if you don’t want to be involved and I understand if this is too much for you.”
Dick looked up at her in surprise.  She was giving him an out.  She wasn’t expecting him to be a dad and help take care of them.  But for some reason, that realization only made his heart clench tighter.  Did he want an out?  Did he want to miss out on his child’s upbringing?  All of their firsts?  Their first step.  Their first summersault.  Their first word.  Their first laugh.  Their first breath.  
He didn’t.  He didn’t want to miss out on those things.  He pulled himself out of his spiral to see Marinette starting to turn away to leave.  He reached out and grabbed her hand before she could get too far away and pulled her into his chest, hugging her tightly.  “I want to be involved.  I want to be there.  I want to help.”  She froze for a few seconds before hugging him back just as strongly.  Her crying increased in his arms and he held her through it.  He wouldn’t let her go through any part of this alone, not anymore.
“I don’t know what you need, but I want to help provide it for you and… and our baby,” he said gently, pulling away just enough to wipe away her tears.  
She nodded at him, turning her eyes up to match his.  Dick felt his chest tighten.  Her eyes were glassy with tears but still gorgeous and captivating.  He moved the hand wiping the tears to cup her face. His thumb gently stroked her cheek. He leaned down toward her but her hand clasped over her lips before his lips could reach them, blocking his way. Her eyes bugged out and she ran to the trash can before throwing up.
“Oh my god,” she groaned, collapsed on the floor next to the trash can.  “And morning sickness has officially begun.  And it’s early.  Just so much luck.”  She looked up at him with an apologetic smile.  “Sorry you had to see that.”
Dick chuckled lightly, “Well, I did want to be there for all the firsts.  Come on,” he gently grabbed her hands to help her up, “let’s get you some water to rinse out your mouth and cleaned up a bit.  If you want to stay, I’d love to escort you around.  If you’d like to go home and rest, I’d love to take you home.  If you want to go somewhere and talk, I’d love to take you wherever you want.  But either way, can I get your phone number… and last name?  I want to help figure things out with you.  Maybe… if you’re interested… maybe go on a first date?  If you want to try for a relationship…. I mean… I understand if you don’t want to risk…”  
His stuttering cut off when she started giggling.  He looked up to match her eyes, a look of hope finally finding their way back into them. “I would really like that, too. And it’s Dupain-Cheng.  Marinette Dupain-Cheng.  It’s nice to officially meet you, Dick Grayson.”
Chapter 7
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