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hanmaitani · 5 months

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Succiduous pt.2

PRONOUNCED - Suc•cid•u•ous | \sək`sədooəs\ DEFINITION - Ready to fall, falling.

PAIRING - Miya Twins x Reader WC - 8.6K GENRE - Fluff, some Angst CW - a lot of fluff, unrequited love if you squint, some angsty scenes, some injuries, punches are thrown at one point, a breakup, general language warnings, the usual bullying that comes hand in hand with the miya twins SYNOPSIS - The thing about growing up with the Miya twins... You learn how to ignore things, even things fight in front of your face. Growing up with the Miya twins means you spend your whole life falling without realizing it... until you were ready.

PREV PART | MASTERLIST | NEXT PART

AGE 15

Your last trimester of middle school was the first time that a boy was brave enough to break through the barrier in front of you known as the Miya twins. He was a boy from the boys' soccer team at your school, the captain actually.

The girls' and boys' teams had a joint practice and he'd walked right up to you at the end with a charming smile on his face.

“My name is Tamura Eichi. You’re l/n y/n. Right?”

You had nodded dumbly then, not expecting him to know who you were. He was tall and attractive and knew who you were.

“I think you’re very pretty and I was hoping you might want to go on a date with me.”

You would’ve described your face at that moment akin to Atsumu’s face whenever a girl turned down his advances. Absolutely gobsmacked.

You had stood by as girl after girl had confessed to Osamu and Atsumu, but had never been confessed to yourself. You didn’t think that anyone would like you like that, at least no one brave enough to slip by the twins to get to you. You hadn’t realized that you’d been staring at him dumbfounded, not giving an answer, until his voice came again.

“So… is that a—”

“Oh my gosh, sorry.” You laughed awkwardly and then smiled up at him, nodding. “Yes I would really like that.”

He laughed at you. “You’re cute.” Your face flushed deeply and your eyes widened, completely speechless. “Can I take you out tomorrow night?” You nodded dumbly - not trusting your voice. “Great, bye y/n, see you tomorrow.”

You walked in a daze to meet Osamu and Atsumu that day. Dopey grin on your face as you met them outside the front gate of school. You barely even noticed as Atsumu called your name when you got closer to them.

“She looks weird.” He narrowed his eyes and scrutinized you, looking you up and down as you stood there. “’Samu wha’s wrong with‘er?” He asked, referring to the dopey look on your face, something he wasn't used to seeing.

“Shuttup Miya.” You snipped at him, trying to dispose of your smile as you adjusted your bags on your shoulders. You missed the flash of hurt in his eyes at the use of his last name.

“Why ya so smiley y/n/n?” Osamu asked, nudging your shoulder, you got caught off balance and nearly tumbled to the ground with a shriek. Atsumu barked out a laugh as Osamu barely caught you. “Easy there clumsy.”

Both he and Atsumu had grown over the past year and had finally pulled ahead of you on the height scale, their forms lingering above yours. You clung onto Osamu's arm as you rebalanced yourself.

“Miysam,” you singsonged, not even caring that you almost just ate it, “I got asked on a date.” You beamed up at him.

Both boys froze and looked down at you. “Ya what?” Osamu asked, staring down at you in shock.

“Who’d wanna go out wit ya?” Atsumu screwed up his face in annoyance and glared down at you before sending a ‘can you believe this’ look over to Osamu. “Wit ya ugly mug?”

“Shut yer face, loudmouth.” You growled at him, quickly pushing a hand out and shoving his arm.

Having not expected you to shove him, he quickly lost his balance and tumbled into the ground. Osamu let out a loud snort of a laugh and you drew your eyes back up to him, painting the smile back on your face.

“Tamura Eichi.” You breathed his name, swooning at the sound of it rolling off your tongue. “He’s captain of the boys’ soccer team.” Your smile grew. “He wants ta take me out t’morrow.”

“I don’t like ‘im.” Atsumu said from his position still on the floor. “Heard ‘bout him, ‘e’s full o’ himself.”

“And you’re not? Thing 2.” You scoffed down at him and shot a quick kick to his thigh, one not meant to hurt but to make a point.

“Shuttup meanie.” Atsumu scrambled up, glaring at you as he straightened.

“Quit yer whinin’.” Osamu smacked the back of Atsumu’s head and you giggled as the latter stumbled from the force. “Look at our little y/n/n, growin’ up. Did’ya say yes?” You nodded excitedly and he smiled fondly down at you. “That mean yer headin’ home tonight? Or ya still comin’ for movie night?”

Atsumu and Osamu both looked down at you expectantly for an answer.

“Of course m’comin’ t'watch movies. Like I’d abandon ya both. Ya both’d be lost without me.” You went up on your toes, slinging your arms over their necks and yanking them down. You laughed as they both stumbled, being pulled down by your weight before you realized why you’d been avoiding touching them too much.

Both of them were still covered in sweat and you let out a sound of disgust. You slid your arms away from them quickly, attempting to wipe them on the fabric of the soccer jacket you still adorned.

“Ewwwww,” you shuddered and shook your body dramatically, “you both are gross and are taking showers the second we get home.”

You didn’t have time to register the playful glint in Osamu’s eyes before he lunged at you. You quickly dodged him as your eyes widened. “But y/n/n, ya love us.”

“No.” You warned, stiffening your arm out in front of you, flat palm held in his direction. “Don’t you come near me ‘Samu.” You warned, starting to back away but the smirk he gave told you that you’d have to run.

“C’mon y/n/n.” He laughed and lunged again and you shrieked. Quickly turning, you bolted away from him. He chased. “Yer not gonna ‘scape.” He laughed as you quickly changed directions, barely missing his arm coming to trap you.

“No!” You laughed as you sprinted back towards Atsumu. “Yer all gross an’ sweaty. Get ‘way!” You skidded and threw yourself behind Atsumu. “’Tsumi!” You shrieked with a laugh. “Protect me!”

You were greeted by a vicious laugh as Atsumu moved from in front of you. “Nah.” He gripped your arm so you couldn’t move away again. “On ya own.”

You gasped as you felt Osamu’s arm wrap around your waist from behind. “Traiter!” You shrieked at Atsumu as you were hauled away from him and your back hit Osamu’s chest. You could feel his damp shirt against your neck and you made a noise of protest. “Lemme go.” You whined, struggling to throw his grip from your waist.

“Ah c’mon, y/n/n.” Osamu laughed and dragged you into his armpit.

You shrieked. Line = crossed. A muffled ‘ew’ dragged its way out of your mouth as he tried to rub your head into his sweat.

“S’not that bad.” Osamu laughed as you struggled and gagged.

“I hate ya!” You cried as Osamu loosened his grasp and you tried to pull away again. “M’gonna start sayin’ I like ‘Tsumi more.” You whined but both the twins laughed.

“Tha’s ‘kay.” Osamu laughed before hauling you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

“Put me down!” You shrieked as your face was suddenly met with his back. It was still soaking wet and you gagged. “This’s disgusting Osamu! Yer back’s all sweaty.”

“Smell’s good?” Atsumu’s face came into view with a smirk painted onto it. Both of them laughed at you as you gagged and pounded your fists.

“I lied. I hate ya both.” You groaned as they kept walking. “Ne’er gon’ talk ta either o’ ya again.” You protested but they just ignored you as they continued to their house.

Your promise was forgotten the second that you’d taken a shower at their house. They let you have the first shower and fought over who got the second.

You’d stolen a drawer from each of them in their dressers over the years and kept a handful of clothes and other essentials in them. It was something Atsumu never failed to complain about and something you’d never failed to smack him over the head for when he wouldn’t stop on his own accord.

You’d all spent the night on the couch binging a myriad of movies—what you did every Friday night; designated movie night. You’d ended up with your head in Osamu’s lap and your legs thrown across Atsumu’s just like you always did (except for when you would occasionally switch whose lap was where).

You’d fallen asleep on the couch in that position at some point and woken up in the morning in Osamu’s bed. Like usual.

You’d left earlier than usual that day, before Atsumu even woke up. It wasn’t hard to do, he had a bad habit of sleeping in way too late. But you’d left and been back to your own house before 10am.

Your sister’s first baby had grown out of his screaming in the middle of the night phase, but not his screaming throughout the day phase quite yet. Her baby girl had taken up the mantle of screaming through the night, however.

Walking into your house that morning, you’d been expecting to have to fight to keep your headache at bay. But it was as if some power out there had blessed you because when you walked in, it was eerily quiet.

“Hey! You’re home.” Your sister’s voice carried from behind you. You turned and she leaned against the entrance to the kitchen with a smile. “Just you and me today, they went to the park. Thought you might miss the quiet day. Was expectin’ you to be at the Miya’s house.” She set the rag she’d been holding down on the counter and turned her attention fully to you.

“I-“ you cleared your throat and felt your cheeks start to warm up, “I got a date tonight. Wanted to get ready.”

You watched her face light up and you swore she was about to start jumping up and down and clapping. “Did the Miya boy finally ask you out!” She shouted and your jaw dropped in shock and confusion. “You know, Osamu?”

You shook your head clearly. “No. No, no, no.” You groaned and ran your hand over your face. “I told you,” you whined, “we’re just friends.”

Apparently everyone was rooting for Osamu and you to date. You'd been asked by your sister and her husband about him on multiple occasions, even some of the Miya family had asked about the two of you. Neither of you saw that happening.

Sure you’d kissed a few times since you'd shared your first kiss, but purely for practicing purposes. When he’d wanted to kiss a different girl for the first time he’d come to you first and practiced. You’d made fun of him for how sloppy the kiss had been and he’d gone and kissed his girl the next day. Hell, they’d even lasted a full week before he said that he just didn’t think it was going to end up working.

You clarified for your dreamy-eyed sister. “Someone from the boys’ soccer team asked me out.”

“Oh.” Her face dropped for a split second before it perked back up. “Well,” she dragged the word before slowly approaching you, “will you let me help you get ready?”

You stared at her warily for a second before sighing and reluctantly nodding.

She really did clap her hands together, then, a small squeal of excitement leaving her lips as she dragged you off to her room. “You don’t have the right clothes.”

You let her play dress up with you for the day, she’d left your hair mostly natural but had made sure that your face would be left completely unobscured. “Can’t have you trying to hide behind your hair when you get flustered.” She’d joked with you.

When. Not if.

You’d rolled your eyes in irritation which got you a lecture about how you couldn’t do that on the date because not only would he find it rude, but it had a possibility of ruining your makeup. You’d complained up and down the wall when she’d slipped one of her old dresses on you.

Your complaints stopped when you saw yourself in the mirror.

The dress fell down to your knees and accentuated all the right places on your body. Flattering your body type perfectly. “It never fit me quite right.” Your sister had laughed and you’d surprised her with a hug.

The date itself had gone amazing. Eichi had shown up with flowers and had taken you to a local ice cream shop. You spent hours of the afternoon/evening talking and laughing. You’d never before spent that much uninterrupted time with anyone outside of the twins. It was refreshing. An entire change of pace.

Eichi had been funny and playful but never quite in the overwhelming way that Atsumu was. He listened well too, always adding in his input the way that Osamu sometimes forgot to do. When the sun had officially set, he’d walked you back to your house and had stopped at the gate to your yard.

“I had an amazing time with you.” He whispered, his hand still intertwined from your walk here. Your cheeks were heated and you were thankful for the dimly lit gateway you stood in, hiding all possible evidence of it.

“I would really like to do it again.” He spoke before you had the chance to respond to the first comment. You were so in awe that you just nodded dumbly, the same dopey smile from the day before painted on your face again.

“I would also,” he whispered, stepping slightly closer, “really like to kiss you.”

“Okay.” You whispered back quickly, not giving yourself time to second guess the decision. You barely caught the smile on his lips before he leaned in.

He was the only person you’d kissed besides Osamu and it was different. Less awkward and more like he knew what he was doing. His hand cupped the back of your neck to hold you in place. There was no crashing of noses as he tilted his head and pressed his lips softly to yours. It was pleasant and stole your breath and when he pulled back you accidentally let your lips follow his slightly.

He let out a light laugh at your action and disconnected your hands with a smaller kiss to the back of your hand. “I’ll see you on Monday?” He asked as he took a step back.

“Ye-“ you cleared your throat when your voice came out higher pitched than you’d meant it to, “yeah, on Monday.” He’d watched you enter the gate to your house and start to walk the path to your door before he turned and left.

You never made it to your front door.

You’d let out a happy squeal and quickly kicked your uncomfortable shoes off your feet, picked them up and turned to sprint down to the Miya house.

You let yourself in quickly with your own key and greeted their grandma kindly before pushing into the twins’ room without announcing yourself.

“Put a shirt on ‘Tsumi.” You said immediately and laughed as Atsumu screeched like a girl and tried to hide his body with his shirt because he was only in boxers.

“Wha’ happened ta knockin’!?” He shouted, quickly grabbing the pair of sweats right next to him and pulling them on. You paid him no mind as you flopped down onto Osamu’s bed and laid your head in his lap, smiling giddily up at him.

“Ya look nice.” Osamu took a look at your dress and you grinned as you smoothed down the skirt a little bit so he could have a better look at it. “Wha’s the occasion?”

You saw Atsumu’s face appear in your field of vision next to Osamu’s and you couldn’t stop your smiling. “My date.” You let out a giddy laugh.

Osamu hummed in recognition, a fond smile finding its way onto his lips. Atsumu, on the other hand, screwed his face up in distaste and opened his mouth to speak. You quickly cut him off.

“Eichi was so nice.” You swooned. “He brought flowers and kissed me goodnight and wants to do it again!” You let out a little squeal - you could and would hate yourself for the action later - and kicked your feet in the air a little bit.

“Hey! Watch it!” Atsumu chided, dodging one of your feet as he dropped out of your line of sight. “I still don’t like him.” He complained and you rolled your eyes.

“No one asked ya.” You said, propping yourself up on an elbow so you could glare at him properly. “Bet he doesn’t like ya either.” You chipped and were easily greeted with backup.

“No one likes ‘Tsumu.” Osamu snorted a laugh from behind you and your smile grew back on your face.

“Like I care.” Atsumu huffed and rolled his eyes again. “Whatever, jus’ don’t come crying ta me when he’s exactly what I told ya.”

“I won’t.” You fell back on Osamu’s lap, smiling as he played absentmindedly with a piece of your hair, continuing his conversation from before you dropped in.

You were content to only half listen to any conversation that night, still mentally swooning over the boy who wanted to take you out again.

You didn’t have to come crying to Atsumu about Eichi at all.

Eichi had asked you to be his girlfriend after just two more dates and you’d made it through the rest of the trimester. Then, you’d made it through the first trimester of high school. And then, for the first time in your life, you shared your summer with more than just the twins.

Growing up with the Miya twins meant that they monopolized most of your time, but now, with Eichi around, you made a point to split your time as much as possible.

Atsumu tried to be around a lot more when you were there now. Talking about how you ‘were never around’ and how you ‘owed him this’ and ‘owed him that’. He was exhausting, like always, but you missed it.

And when Osamu and you would team up to bully Atsumu together, it brought back the familiar fluttering of hearing Osamu’s laugh when Atsumu gave that stupid look of jaw-dropped, mock betrayal towards you both.

You took time with the twins wherever you could get it and it often ended with you all doing crazy things. Which is how, of course, you ended up here, basically straddling Atsumu as you swatted at his hands trying to come up and wipe his face.

“Stop that!” You swatted his hand yet again as it came up.

“It kinda burns.” He whined. “And it smells.” You rolled your eyes and smacked his hand… again. “Meanie.” He bit out, sticking his tongue out at you.

“Ya want bleach in yer eyes, loudmouth?” He rolled his eyes at you as a response and grumbled under his breath. “Didn’t think so. Now keep yer hands away from yer face.” You were standing above his sitting form, his head leaned back into the bathroom sink.

“Be more like Miysam.” It was a tease. You glancing over at the other twin who was sitting quietly, his eyes closed as he relaxed. The bleach in Osamu’s hair was washed out now and he was just waiting for the haphazardly applied grey hair dye to set in.

“He’s sleepin’!” Atsumu exclaimed and you giggled as, almost exactly on cue, Osamu let out a soft snore.

“Well, it is three in the mornin’.” You laughed and he glared up at you as you impatiently checked the color on his hair.

“See! Ya gotta be as impatient as I am!” His exclamation came softer this time at the recognition of how late it was. He reached up to scratch his head and you smacked his hand again. “I’m gon’ kill ya, I swear.” You rolled your eyes at him but smiled nonetheless. “Can’ we jus’ say screw it? Le’s wash it!”

You laughed and watched as he beamed up at you. “What if it isn’t the right color?” You warned and he groaned, rolling his eyes.

“Who cares. S’long as 'Samu and I’ve got the diff’rent colors tha’s wha’ matters." He paused for a breath before adding on to his sentiment. "And that ya had fun.”

You laughed and reached over him to turn on the faucet. “O’ course I had fun.” You leaned back again and looked down at his face with a smile. “Don’t blame me if ya hair looks like piss, ‘Tsumi.” He shrugged and you shook your head with another giggle.

Your fingers easily pushed into his hair, dragging it under the water and slowly working out all of the drying bleach. You snuck a few glances down at him and smiled as you noticed him staring at you, watching you work.

His cheeks were tinged pink from his continued position of not having his head tilted the right way and his lips fell into a relieved smile. You continued in silence as he watched you, working conditioner into his hair to ease the damage the bleach had been causing it.

You removed yourself from your place above him and he whined as he went to sit up. “Where ya goin’?”

You laughed as you pushed him back down. “Stay. I’m gonna wash out ‘Samu’s hair and then I’ll come wash out ya conditioner.”

Atsumu rolled his eyes dramatically as you came to stand next to Osamu who was leaning against his own sink, still softly snoring. That boy could sleep like the dead, it was surprising that he wasn’t the one that was always late.

“Stupid ‘Samu can wash out his own.” Atsumu grumbled as you began to run your fingers through his brother’s hair under the now running water.

“He’s sleeping?” You laughed and winced as you saw the grey starting to lightly stain your hands. “And so can you.” You pointed playfully with a lightly stained finger.

“But, ya give little massages with it.” He smiled and you glared lightly.

“Hush or ya can wash ya own hair.” A couple more soft grumbles came from Atsumu as you washed Osamu’s hair until the water ran clear. When you shut the water off, you came back to Atsumu’s chair and resumed your previous position.

“Alright ya big baby.” Atsumu smiled up at you but made no snide remarks as you began to massage the conditioner from his hair. You were right and both of your impatience had left him with a shade you hadn’t been going for.

You’d winced. At least it wasn’t splotchy.

“M’sorry.” You whispered as he finally stood up to look at it.

“Nah.” He’d laughed with you about it. “I like it. Ya did good.” He laughed and pulled you into a quick side hug.

“Help me get him ta bed?” You asked, trying to get Osamu out of the chair that he was sleeping in still. “Gosh, what s’he eat?”

You groaned and Atsumu laughed as he easily threw one of Osamu’s arms over his own shoulders and hauled him into an almost standing position. You definitely were not pulling your weight on getting Osamu back to his bed but Atsumu didn’t complain a bit about it.

“M'not really tired.” Atsumu whispered from his bed after you’d both settled down and turned off the lights.

“Same.” Was your whispered reply.

You stared at the bottom of his bunk, trying to find the words to ask if you could talk to him until you slept but he beat you to it. “Come up here and talk t'me?”

Instead of responding, you crawled out of Osamu’s bed and up to Atsumu’s quickly. You’d talked in hushed whispers and giggles until you’d both fallen asleep that night.

The next morning, you were late to your breakfast date with Eichi and it was the first time you had a serious fight.

He’d been mad about the grey hair dye that was staining your fingers as you were profusely apologizing for missing your date. You’d told him about dying the boys’ hair and it was the first time you fought about your relationship with the Miya twins.

The first time, but definitely not the last time.

Eichi and you lasted barely a month into the second trimester of your first year of high school. The Miya twins’ upcoming birthday happened to be the final straw for your relationship.

Growing up with the Miya twins, you learned one thing when it came to their birthday:

You had to make time to hang out with each of them individually, as well as together.

You could attempt to skip the individual part but you just knew the cries you would get, you’d give in instantly to the complaints. The Miya twins’ birthday was an all day event for the three of you. Had been for the past nine years and there was no way you’d break the streak on their sixteenth birthday.

Eichi had been pissed when you told him about the day you’d planned on missing school and about what your plans were.

You’d been hanging out with his teammates just outside his clubroom after practice on a Friday, drinking hot drinks to make up for the chilly air of the late September afternoon.

“No.” He’d said it with finality, like he had a say in the matter. Like he had the only say in the matter. “No, you’re not skipping school to hang out with them.”

You’d scoffed and widened your eyes to give him an incredulous look. “You’re joking.” His face stayed serious and you stood up straighter. "You're not joking." You rolled your eyes, unable to keep the temper crawling up your spine in check.

“Their part o’ my life. Ya knew that gettin’ into this.” He rolled his eyes at your words and you gripped your cup a little tighter trying to calm yourself down. “Eichi,” your tone was warning, daring him, “I’m not skippin’ out on their birthdays. It’s a decade long tradition now.”

“I don’t need my girlfriend spending an entire day alone with those two idiots.” He’d started to raise his voice and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to hold your words back.

“You’re especially not skippin’ school to do it!” He’d drawn the attention of some teammates who were trying desperately to look like they weren’t trying to eavesdrop. They weren't fooling anyone. “I don’t fucking get it.”

“Don’t call them idiots.” You pressed the words out through clenched teeth, your voice coming out lower than it normally would have. There was a razor edge to them, a serrated blade that itched to carve into his skin.

“You,” he pointed an accusatory finger towards you, “call them idiots all the time, what’s the big deal.” You growled and went to retaliate when he cut you off. “They’re nothin’ but a pair of idiots. They’re rowdy and fight all the time, ya come back to me with bruises sometimes.”

You rolled your eyes, yeah bruises you got from soccer and from your own habit of tripping over every crack in the sidewalk, not your boys. Never your boys. They’d never lay a finger on you.

He continued, “especially fucking Atsumu," he spit the name out like venom, "who’s so fucking full of himself and is just as fucking well to be the trash you should ignore on the side of the road.”

And that was it, the final push for your anger.

“Keep his goddamn name outta yer mouth!” You shoved at his chest even if he didn’t move. “I don’t give a damn no more.” You growled and thought that your grip on your cup might send the boiling liquid pouring over your hand at any second. “Atsumu ain’t trash and don’t ya ever fucking call him that again.”

He’d scoffed in your face and clenched his jaw at your defensiveness over the boy. “I’m your fucking boyfriend. You don’t put that piece of arrogant, loudmouth trash over your boyfriend.”

“Watch. Your. Fucking. Mouth.” You were seething. You easily dodging his hand as he aimed to grab your arm. “I don’ ever wanna hear his name come out ya mouth again. I don’ ever wanna hear ya call him any o’ that again.” You glared and him and shook your head. It was Friday and you had places to be. “I’m leaving.” You turned and got only a few steps before he spoke again.

“Y/n.” You stopped your steps but didn’t look back. “You leave now and we’re done. You choose them over me.” You let out a short laugh. Not worth a response. You kept walking.

You made your way quietly to the volleyball gym where you knew that Osamu and Atsumu would be waiting for you, like they did every Friday afternoon. Like they did every movie night. Every time you all had plans.

All your anger boiled over the closer you got and you ended up throwing the hot drink into a wall, the contents exploding out in a satisfying way. You took a deep breath, trying to shop the shaking in your hands and-

“Woah, what’d that cup do to you?” Suna’s voice was first to greet your ears with a quiet laugh as he stood next to Osamu. Osamu’s face, instead, filled with concern and he quickly abandoned his conversation with Suna to find his spot next to you.

Before either of you got a chance to speak again, Atsumu was sticking his face in front of yours. “Why ya look like ya just got hit by a truck, a/n/n?”

Your dissipating anger returned full force. “Why you-“ you growled and shoved your hand into his face, watching as he stumbled from the force of the unexpected hit. He barely had time to groan and register what had happened when you went to lunge at him. “Shut ya face ya loudmouth!”

Osamu caught you in the air by your waist just before you made contact with Atsumu again and you paid no mind to the fact that you were pointlessly swinging your arms and legs in Atsumu’s direction.

“Listen meanie! I didn’t come for ya to be a brat ta me!” Atsumu stood straight again, holding his nose where your palm had made contact. He went to speak again but Osamu cut him off.

“I’ll let ‘er go.” He threatened, you had already stopped swinging but the threat still held because Atsumu shut his already opened mouth.

“Wan’ talk ‘bout it, y/n/n?” he looked down at you questioningly. You shook your head. “So, le’s go home and watch some movies.” He immediately dropped the subject and released you from his grasp. He turned you towards the gates of the school. “Le’s go get ya another hot drink, too.”

Atsumu stayed quiet but glared at you, to which you responded with a glare of your own. Osamu had to keep himself between the two of you the whole way to their house.

They did get you another hot drink and Atsumu paid for it, which put you in a better mood with him for the rest of the night. You resumed your place sitting between the two of them and like always, fell asleep on the couch with your head in Atsumu’s lap and your feet strewn across Osamu’s as some movie played in the background.

You stayed at their house the entire weekend and neither questioned why you didn’t leave periodically to go be with Eichi. At least, they didn’t wonder out loud, to you. You’d caught them once trying to discuss it when you had left for the shower but they’d dropped the conversation when you’d walked back in.

It was on Monday that it all caught up to you.

You’d been unfortunate enough to not have either of the twins in your class for high school. But fortunate in the fact that Eichi also was not in your class.

You’d gathered your food for lunch and did what you always did, leave your class and head towards class 1 to find Osamu for lunch. Passed by class 2 on your way to grab Atsumu and continued to walk quietly.

Quietly until you and Atsumu passed Eichi in the hallway.

“Yeah, I broke up with her cause she wouldn’t put out.” You saw Atsumu’s steps falter as you passed.

“’Tsumi.” You whispered lowly, pulling on his sleeve to get him the last few steps towards Osamu’s classroom. “Ignore it.” He looked down at you questioningly, realization crossing his features as he realized why you’d been down all weekend.

“Should’ve known that she was just a whore for the Miya twins.” The words made the blood in your veins freeze and you couldn't stop it as you felt Atsumu’s blazer leave your grasp.

“Wanna say that ‘gain for me.” Atsumu asked, unbuttoning his blazer as he turned and took a step away from you and towards your now ex-boyfriend. “Don’ think I heard ya right.”

He dropped his blazer to the ground, hands already shoving the sleeves of his shirt up. You snapped yourself out of your frozen state and went to take a step forward to pull him back, only to be stopped by a familiar arm

Osamu and Suna were on either side of you now. Suna already had his camera out and Osamu’s face was set in a serious look made of stone.

“I said,” Eichi laughed as he took a step away from his friends and towards the clearing hallway, “little y/n/n is just a whore for you and your brother.”

You’re pretty sure you heard the crack of Atsumu’s fist hitting Eichi’s face before you even saw it. Eichi’s smirk was wiped off in a single hit but that didn’t stop Atsumu from going for more.

“’Tsumi!” You cried out, trying to lunge for them but Osamu kept you back. “Miysam! Make him stop please.” You begged but Osamu shook his head.

“Pretty sure he deserves this.” You grimaced as Eichi landed a punch on Atsumu and hid your face into Osamu's chest. It wasn’t the first time that Atsumu had ended up in the principal’s office because of you, but it was the first time he’d done it with his only intention being to protect you.

AGE 16

Growing up with the Miya twins means that you grow a knack for competitiveness. A habit of pushing your limits to get better than your best.

You had a habit of pushing it too far.

Osamu and Atsumu always used each other to compete, catching up to the other, pulling ahead of the other was always enough. You had yourself, be better than the last time. So you had a habit of going too far. Of not knowing what your limit was and passing it.

Osamu lectured you constantly for it. For the bruises and sprains that he and Atsumu helped you care for on a regular basis. For the days that they’d find you passed out over study materials because your body had finally given out from overuse.

It was never really bad until high school, where it got infinitely worse than your middle school years. And when you’d left Eichi you suddenly had more time to throw yourself into improvement.

The last week of your first year of high school you went entirely too far. Even by all the standards you'd set before.

Your eyes were struggling to open properly at first, bright lights assaulting your vision before your coach came into view. Relief washed over his face as he saw you conscious. “Oh good, was worried about you there, l/n.”

You tried to sit up but were immediately stopped by a figure to your left.

It took a moment to register the figure of a nurse who lightly pressed her hands against your shoulders and guided you back down. “You shouldn’t try to get up just yet, you might throw up.” Her warning made you suddenly aware that the world was a little blurrier than you were used to - like you’d forgotten to put on glasses.

“Whappened?” Your words slurred and you scrunched your eyebrows in irritation at the poorly formed words.

“You just dropped.” Your coach supplied, ever-so-elegant with his words. “One second you were sprinting after the ball, like always, and the next you were tumbling to the ground. Nasty fall.”

“We’ve got you on some pain meds right now.” The nurse said softly as she helped prop up your bed slowly. “But it’ll hit you once they wear off.”

Pain meds. That accounted for the heavy feeling in your limbs and why your vision seemed to be a little hazy. As if sensing your next question, she spoke again.

“You have a fractured ankle. It’s a light fracture so you don’t need a cast unless you decide that you can’t stay off of it. That means crutches.” You winced at the thought but kept quiet as she kept talking. “You have some severe friction burns on your side as well from the fall.”

“I don’t even remember tripping.” You mumbled your hands rubbing over your face like the motion and feeling would bring more consciousness into your mind. “How hard did I hit my head when I went down to forget that?”

“You didn’t trip.” Your coach said then, worry still etched into his face as he laid his hand gently on your head. “You were unconscious before you went down.” You shook your head lightly trying to figure out if you’d heard him correctly.

“You did hit your head hard though, you have a light concussion. I’ll be talking to your school about excusing you from the rest of your final projects.” The nurse said again. “You shouldn’t be reading for the rest of this week, or looking at a screen.” She added when she caught you eyeing your phone on the table.

“It was exhaustion.” She clarified, giving you your unofficial diagnosis. “Your body gave out on you.”

“Oh.” You whispered lightly, now noticing the IV sticking out of your arm.

“When’s the last time you ate?” You were silent as the nurse questioned you. When was the last time? “The last time you had a full night of sleep?”

“I didn’t know who you wanted to call.” Your coach interjected as he saw your frustration building. “I know you’re close with the Miya twins and you said your sister was busy a lot but…” he trailed off and you sighed.

“Could I use my phone?” You asked quietly and then quickly added on as you saw the nurse go to deny your request. “Just to call someone and then I’ll put it away.” She hesitated but nodded before passing you your phone. You sighed as you dialed the familiar number.

He picked up quickly. “Hey.” You muttered and didn’t wait for him to finish his question that he had started. “I know I’m not there, I’m sorry. Could you come and pick me up?” You sighed at the response on the other side of the line.

“Listen I’m gonna tell ya and I need ya to not freak out. M’at the hospital.” You let him rattle worries to you before talking again.

“Just you, please, don’t bring your brother.” There was a pause before agreement. You rattled off your room number and then hit the end call button. You placed your phone off to the side table again, as promised.

The nurse was rattling off instructions to you of how to take care of yourself at home when he showed up. A familiar face popping around the corner as his tall frame followed. His hair was messy from running his fingers through it, a nervous habit.

“Hey.” He whispered as you ushered him in the room. His eyes skidded from the machines hooked up to you to the bandages across your arm and ankle before settling on your face where a bruise was forming.

“Wha’ happened?” He fell into the chair next to your bed as the nurse retold what was wrong with you before informing him of all the restrictions you have over the next few weeks. The nurse left after her speech and he looked back at you.

“M’sorry ‘Tsumi.” You whispered, looking away from him.

He sighed and brought your face to look back at him. You watched as his eyes took in the bruise on your face. They looked almost golden at the moment and you nearly scoffed, only a Miya could look good under the harsh light of hospital rooms.

“I guess I jus’ forgot.”

His fingers lightly grazed over the bruise, careful to not press too hard on the swollen skin, a softer touch than usually came from him.

“Ya forgot ta take care of yaself?” Atsumu’s voice was nearly a whine as he pulled you into a soft hug. “Stop doin’ that.”

His warmth surrounded you and you noted that he still sort of smelled like volleyball practice, the smell of sweat lingered as proof of how fast he’d dropped his responsibilities to come here for you.

“Why didn’t ya want ‘Samu ta come?” He asked as he slowly pulled back. He eased you into a sitting position, your legs dangling off the bed. The nurse had disconnected you from all the wires and the IV before leaving a wheelchair for you.

“Don’ know.” You mumbled, your shoulders sagging as he supported most of your weight, placing you into the wheelchair. You winced as the cold hospital air surrounded your bare arms and legs, a reminder that you were still wearing just your practice shorts and t-shirt. Atsumu waited for you to finish your thoughts as he draped your bags over his shoulders and began to push you out of the room.

“Miysam lectures me like a dad.” You grumbled and tried to stop the smile from appearing on your lips as he let out a loud laugh behind you. “S’not funny.” You protested, your cheeks heating up.

“Is too.” He laughed and his face popped into view as he leaned over to look down at you. “Nothin’ to be ‘mbarrassed ‘bout a/n/n.” He teased, smiling as your cheeks heated up even more.

“Stop teasin’ me.” You mumbled. “Shoulda called Suna.” You stuck your tongue out at him and he feigned hurt.

His jaw dropped open in mock betrayal, the same look that he gave when Osamu and you teamed up to tease him. The same look he had whenever Osamu’s laugh sent a warm feeling shooting through your chest and made your eyes light up - the same feeling that was happening right now, except it wasn’t caused by Osamu’s laugh because his laugh wasn’t present.

Just the dumb stricken face Atsumu was making.

“Suna woulda left ya t'rot.” Atsumu grumbled as you both reached the front door. He transferred you onto crutches, largely supporting your weight for you. Carrying one of your crutches for you, he hunched over to let you sling an arm around his neck so he could continue supporting you as you both left.

“Suna woulda left you t'rot.” You grimaced at the strain of the crutch. “He likes me more than ya.” Atsumu snorted but didn’t counter as you finished the short walk to the bus station in front of the hospital.

He might as well have carried you onto the bus with how much he was lifting you up the stairs. By the time you fell into the seat you were dizzy from the pain meds still buzzing in your system.

You barely registered the warmth of his body settling next to you in the seat. I felt the familiar light pull of his arm dragging you softly into his side when his voice met your ears again.

“Go ‘head.” He said softly and let a small laugh out when you went to ask what he meant. “I’ll wake ya when s’time to get off.” You nodded lightly and that permission was all you needed to fall into a light sleep with your head propped on his shoulder.

Here’s the thing, about growing up with the Miya twins. You learn a lot of things.

You learn that they bleed into every aspect of your life, that you’re never going to get rid of them. You learn that they feel more like home than your own house does. That their bickering brings smiles to your lips and that nothing makes you happier than making them frustrated and drawing laughs out of them by force.

You learn to read their expressions, when a slight change in the glint of their eyes gives away what they’re about to do next. Micro-expressions that you can only read because you watched them develop for years. You learn to observe and read the Miya twins like open books.

When you opened your eyes again you were standing outside the bus at the stop down the street from the Miya house. “Ya think ya could stand there for a second?” Atsumu was placing you gently on the ground, catering one side so that you didn’t press your weight onto your injured ankle.

You nodded drowsily and leaned onto the crutch he handed to you. He’d carried you off the bus but you were watching now as he struggled to secure both your and his bags onto his shoulders. He’d pulled off his hoodie now and knowing him, it was because it had pulled the wrong way against your bags one too many times and had irritated him.

You let a soft smile pull on your lips as you pictured him wrestling with the sweater and your bags. “What’ya smilin’ ‘bout there?”

You let out a soft giggle and shook your head. “Nothin’.”

“I think ya might still have some drugs in your system.” He teased and you felt your cheeks heat up again. The feeling of the warmth brought your attention to just how cold the rest of your body was and you let out a shiver. “Ya cold?”

You nodded but it didn’t matter, he was already working his hoodie onto your body, struggling with supporting you and not letting your crutches fall in the process.

“There ya go.” He smiled at you as your head popped through the top of the sweater. You felt your cheeks flare up more as you were engulfed in warmth. His jacket was huge on you and the sleeves consumed your arms, the bottom falling to the ends of your shorts.

“Thanks.” You mumbled and looked away, trying to calm your cheeks and failing because of the way he was looking at you.

Before you spoke again he interrupted you. “Alright, up we go.”

You made a noise of confusion as he quickly bent down and wrapped an arm around the back of your knees. His other arm wrapped around your waist and he easily lifted you up, carrying you bridal style. Your eyes widened and you gripped your crutches to your chest tightly as you let out a small squeak at the sudden movement.

“Just like a princess.” Atsumu teased as he started walking and the heat of your cheeks burned its way to the tips of your ears.

“‘Tsumiiiii.” You whined. “Stop teasin’ me.” You buried your face into his neck and found yourself entirely enveloped by him as you groaned in embarrassment.

“Stop gettin’ flustered so easily then.” He laughed and the heat spread down your neck. His fingers unintentionally tightened at your side and you hissed from the contact with the wound that lay there. His laughing immediately stopped, his tone coming out serious. “Fuck, m’sorry.”

“S’okay.” You mumbled sleepily into his neck, starting to relax as you felt him turn towards the path up to his house. “I know yer just dumb.” You smiled as you heard him let out a playful scoff.

“Meanie.” His voice was playful as he carefully pulled open the front door of his house and navigated towards his room. The room was empty when he walked in and he placed you carefully onto Osamu’s bed.

“Alright princess.” He laughed and detangled himself from you before dropping your bags less ceremoniously next to the bed. “Relax here, I’ll go get ya a hot drink and some food.”

You smiled at him, your cheeks flushing as he brushed a piece of your hair back with a soft smile. You tried to pull off his jacket but he quickly stopped you.

“Nah, keep it, looks better on y’a.” He joked and you watched him leave as you relaxed into Osamu’s bed.

Growing up with the Miya twins makes you learn how to ignore things. To tune them out.

Like the way that Osamu hums along to the conversation to show he’s listening even though it grinds on your nerves because you think he’s not. Or how Atsumu runs his loud mouth any chance he gets because he’s got opinions on everything and no he doesn’t care if you don’t wanna hear them. Teaches you to tune out their constant bickering to the point where you don’t even realize it’s been happening until the first punch is thrown.

It even teaches you how to ignore things that have been right in front of your face the whole time. Like the warm feeling that spread in your chest every time Atsumu gave you that stupid look of his while Osamu’s laugh rang in your ear. Or the way that the you felt more comfortable in this room than any other in your life.

There’s a word; succiduous. It means ready to fall or falling. That was a great way to describe it probably.

You curled into yourself on Osamu’s bed, Atsumu’s jacket was still enveloping you in all things him, pressing warmth through your veins and your chest. Surrounding you in what you knew to be Atsumu’s scent, distinctly different than Osamu’s and overwhelming to your senses even though you were on the latter’s bed.

Because growing up with the Miya twins meant you spent your whole life falling without realizing it.

You took a deep breath in, nuzzling your face into the jacket in your half awake, probably still slightly high, state and you felt an involuntary smile pull at your lips. It smelt good, even though the smell of sweat lingered and he’d probably been wearing it for more than just today since he’d washed it… it smelled like Atsumu and it made you smile.

The sound of the Osamu coming into the room dragged your attention back to the real world where you realized what you’d just been doing. Your eyes widened in shock as realization crashed over you.

You looked up at Osamu slowly with those same widened and shocked eyes. “Miysam.” You whispered, your voice shaking.

“‘Tsumu told me.” He muttered, sitting down next to you softly. “I’m not gonna lecture ya just yet don’t worry.”

“No, Miysam.” You whispered again and he looked down at you concerned. “I think I fucked up.”

You weren’t looking at him anymore, instead staring out the door where Atsumu would reappear at some point with what he had promised you.

You’d never realized it until you were ready to fall.

“I think I like ‘Tsumi.” You breathed out, the feeling of a weight lifting off of you at the admission.

“Yeah,” Osamu muttered with a smirk, “I know.” He shifted his smirk into a soft smile as he looked down at you, loopy and trying to process. “Took you long enough to notice.”

a/n this piece will forever be special in my heart <3

TAGLIST - OPEN @faumpje @all-in-the-fandoms @pearl-blue-musings @chaes-tea

#𓇻 Liberosis #atsumu x reader #osamu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #osamu miya x reader #miya x reader #miya atsumu x reader #miya osamu x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #atsumu fanfiction #osamu fanfiction #miya atsumu fanfiction #miya osamu fanfiction #atsumu miya fanfiction #osamu miya fanfiction

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mischiefnevermanaged89-blog · 3 months

Text

Gotta Be Somebody-part 2

Angel Reyes X Reader

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Angel

When Bishop introduce me to his daughter, I wasn’t expecting her. Honestly, I don’t know what I was expecting. Definitely not a girl who could work on her own bike and get dirty or who would sip a beer with the guys.

As I unloaded the van, my thoughts were on her the whole time. Pop’s words echoing in my head.

“She seems like a nice girl.”

“Yeah. She is.”

“Pretty, too.”

“Yeah.”

He chuckled. “Don’t screw it up.”

“What?”

“You’re chance with her. She’s got admiration in her eyes for you, son. You and I both know you could use a woman like that.”

“Yo, Prosepct!”

I turned to see Bishop standing on the porch of the clubhouse. He waved me over, cigarette in hand.

“I seen the way you were watching (Y/N). I’m going to give you this warning like I do everyone. She’s off limits. You can be her friend, help her when she needs it around the shop, but that’s it. She grew up in this life as much as I hate it. I don’t want her with someone who chooses the life. Got me?” He looked me in the eye, taking a drag of his smoke.

“Yeah. Yeah. I got you.”

He smirked. “Good. I want you watching her tonight. Keep an eye on her.”

“Any particular reason why?”

He chuckled. “Let’s just say she’ll need some added security after the show.” He turned and walked away.

I finished unloading the van and helped get everything set up for the other members to arrive. A few hours later, (Y/N) pulled back in the lot, her (h/l) (h/c) pinned back out of her face. She wore black leggings, combat boots and a tank top.

As soon as she turned around, her eyes instantly found mine and she smiled. Damn that was a pretty smile. She waved and I nodded at her. I watched as she walked over to Coco and Gilly and talked to them. They started wrapping her hands in white tape and rubbing her shoulders down.

“Losa!”

Everyone turned to see a tall skinny guy pulling off his kutte as he walked towards her.

“Manny. You ready to settle this?”

“Damn straight.” He met her and looked down on her. “Ring. Five minutes. Winner takes all bets fair and square and loser apologizes.”

“Agreed. But we both know you’re about to be kissing my ass in apologies.” She smirked at him.

I quickly made my way over and grabbed her arm. “What are you doing?”

“I’m about to show him what it means to disrespect me and let his old lady disrespect me.”

“You mean you’re going to fight him? Like hand to hand?”

“Yeah. How else?” She quirked and eyebrow at me. “Are you worried about me?” She smirked.

“A little. You could get hurt.”

She laughed and patted my chest. “Oh, Angel. Just watch and learn, prospecto.”

I watched her walk into the ring as Hank locked the door. Coco and Gilly standing to the side talking her up. She turned to look at me and gave me a wink. Before I knew it, Hank had rung a bell.

Fist began to fly. (Y/N) was quick on her feet and was able to dodge Manny fairly well. He got a few good punches on her but her height gave her quite the advantage to get him at a lower angle.

“Disrespect my old lady again, perra.”

“She deserved it. She needed to learn her place pendejo. And you’re about to learn yours for letting her act that way on my turf.”

With that, (Y/N) quickly turned with a kick to his ribs and a uppercut to his jaw, knocking him down and pinning him to the floor.

“I’ll take that apology now.” She said with the most devilish smirk.

Manny tapped the floor and (Y/N) helped him up. “I’m sorry for the disrespect. It won’t happen again.”

“Damn right it won’t.” She walked away and out the ring where everyone cheered at her. Hank patted her back and handed her a wad of cash.

“Damn girl. I didn’t know you could fight like that!” I said as she walked my way.

“I’m full of surprises.” She said with a raise of her arms. “Come on. Let me get cleaned up and I’ll get us a beer.”

I followed her inside and stood outside the bathroom. Keeping watch to make sure no one tried to mess with her like Bish wanted. Thirty minutes later she walked out, freshly showered and in jeans and a (f/c) shirt and Converse.

As she walked into the bar area cheers were heard all around. Bishop wrapped his arms around her and kissed her head. He held her out by the shoulders and inspected her face.

“You put a hella beatin’ on him, kid.”

“Yeah, well. Thank my old man for that. He raised me right to not take shit and handle my own.”

Bishop laughed. He looked at me and I nodded. I made sure to stay by her side all night. After we got a beer we found a spot on the sofa in the corner.

“How long you been fighting?” I asked, relaxing with my arm on the back of the couch and facing her.

She shrugged. “Since I was a kid. Kept getting in fights at school. Dad had to keep coming up there bailing me out. Finally one day after Coco and Gilly joined he had them teach me how to focus my anger on something other than people. They trained me to channel my anger and it helped. I started doing better in school and graduated. Sometimes I spar with the others here but tonight was the first time I’ve had an actual fight with one of them for a reason. Seems it paid off.” She raised her beer and smiled.

I smiled back. “What you goin to do with the money?”

“Put some of it into my bike. Finish her up. The rest I’m going to use to help dad out. There’s some things I want to do for him to show him how much he means to me.” She sat her empty bottle on the table.

“Want another one?” She nodded. “Be right back.” I grabbed us another round and went back to my spot.

“So, tell me more about your mom. She sounds like she was a wonderful person.”

I smirked. “She was. She was the best there was. Always made sure me and EZ had what we wanted. More so him than me.”

“What you mean?”

“She always doted on him. Read to him. Her and Pop were always pushing him to do his best in everything. I mean I tried. Sometimes didn’t have to try hard and managed to do good. But EZ man, he was pushed to be the best. In the end though, after mom was killed, he ended up behind bars and I ended up here.” I looked around and lifted my hands.

I looked at (Y/N) who had a small smile on her face, eyes looking like they were staring into my soul.

“What?”

“Sounds like she knew.”

“Knew what?”

“Knew you’d be okay.”

“How so?”

“Well, she pushed your brother, doted on him, made sure to help him be the best because she could see early on what he would eventually become if she didn’t. When she died, what happened to him?” She cocked an eyebrow at me. “Then there’s you. Sure you’re here, but have you been in trouble with the law? Ever been in trouble when you was a kid? Sounds to me like she knew who her good kid was and she didn’t have to worry about you turning out like one she’d lose sleep over at night. I’d say you turned out pretty damn good.”

I smiled and laid my head back. “Never thought of it like that. Where were you when I needed therapy cause of my fucked up childhood thoughts back in the day?”

She took a sip of her beer and shrugged her shoulders. “Who knows. I’m here now though. I know dad gave you the speech, but don’t let that stop you from wanting to talk. Just because I’m his kid and he’s the Prez don’t mean we can’t be friends.” She kicked my foot with hers. “Besides, I’d be bored as shit around here like I was without you around now.”

And there it was. That pretty fucking smile again.

____________

@ravennaortiz

#mayans fanfic #mayans x reader #mayans imagine #mayans mc #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes

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nativestarwrites · 1 year

Note

How about this one: "Stay still."

Thanks for the ask! This ran away a bit, definitely leans more towards a flashfic than a drabble, hope you enjoy!

This is set somewhere pre-series in the DXS era.

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

“Stay still!” Jack shouted, praying his voice carried enough volume to reach Mac. “Mac? Don’t move, okay, bud?”

Was it good luck or bad luck that Mac had fallen off a thirty story high building only to land on a cleaning platform part way down? It was the kind of luck that Jack only associated with Mac, but if it continued to keep him alive then Jack hoped it never ran out.

“Mac!” Jack shouted again, lying down flush against the roof of the building, straining his eyes to see his partner. Mac had yet to move, slumped on his side and facing out to a fantastic view of LA that was sure to make him throw up, if the head injury didn’t get there first. Jack couldn’t see much detail from this height but it was hard to miss the blood pooling around his head.

Head wounds always bleed a lot.

Mac was so still. He could have easily broke his neck in the fall. Or his back. Or something inside that Jack could do nothing about.

“Mac!” Jack bellowed and glanced at the cables securing the platform, trying to assess just how insanely reckless it would be to try and climb down one of them until he caught the tiniest bit of movement out of the corner of his eye. “Mac?”

There. That was definitely a head movement and then-- a flinch, practically a whole body one. Probably the exact moment Mac opened his eyes and focused on what he could see. Or rather what he couldn’t which was the ground. Mac flipped over onto his back, causing the whole platform to wobble and Jack could see Mac breathing all too well now, the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he braced an arm against it and his whole face screwed up in pain and panic.

“Mac! Don’t move! You’re okay, but don’t move! Stay still!” Jack shouted down, not sure if Mac could hear him until he saw his hand move, a small aborted movement that resembled a wave.

“Okay, okay, that’s good buddy. Now, I just need you to slow down that breathing a bit, yeah? Take a deep breath for me?” All Jack got in response to that was a small shake of Mac’s head. “Nope, I don’t want to hear that, pal. You can do this, I know you can. One deep breath, Mac. C’mon, do it for me now.”

Jack continued calling down, a steady litany of reassurance and counting exercises, that Mac failed to match, his eyes still tightly scrunched together until slowly the movement of Mac’s chest eased into something steadier and calmer.

“Attaboy, you got it now.” Jack said. “I gotta go figure out how to get you back up here, so I’m gonna disappear for a bit now. You just stay still and focus on that breathing, okay?”

Jack could see Mac’s mouth moving in response, but his voice was too quiet, stolen away by the wind, a moment later though he followed it up with a small thumb raise.

“Okay, okay.” Jack muttered quietly to himself, taking a deep breath as he pulled back from the edge of the building. “He’s okay. He’s okay.” Mac was awake and moving. Alive. And now Jack just had to figure out how to keep him that way.

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

“Stay still,” Jack murmured, focusing on the task at hand.

“I’m fine.” Mac predictably replied, twisting his chin out of Jack’s lose grip.

“You’re not fine, you’ve got half a dozen stitches in your head and a bunch of broken ribs and they missed a spot of blood back there so stay still.” Jack repeated with more patience than he felt Mac really deserved but the kid was sporting a helluva headache so he’d earned a pass this time. “There, got it. You’re good.”

“I am. I really am.” Mac said, meeting Jack’s eyes sincerely and steadily.

“Yeah, I know.” Jack replied. “But you terrified me today, Mac. And I don’t think you were having much fun neither so how about you let me take care of you for a while and maybe we’ll both get to feel a little bit better before today’s over, yeah?”

Jack was half expecting a fight, the continuation of the sudden independent streak in Mac that had raised it head ever since he’d got to medical. But somehow, thankfully, finally Mac dropped his shoulders and simply asked what Jack had in mind.

“Pizza, movie, that soft blanket you always hog and absolutely no answering the phone, even if it is Patty. Sound good?”

Mac simply shrugged in agreement, but Jack still noticed the soft smile pulling at his lips.

“Alright, you go park yourself on the sofa and--”

“—stay still.” Mac finished for him.

#Macgyver #Ask game #drabble challege #Jack Dalton #I wrote a thing

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hugsandchaos · 1 year

Text

Flying Lesson

J carelessly tossed a broken shard of scrap behind her, nearly hitting N in the head with it. The male yelped and flinched away from it, glancing between the shard and J.”If you screw up again, you might as well jump off a bridge.” She said while rolling her eyes. She had just berated him for he asked what exactly he’s done wrong so he could improve, but since there wasn’t actually anything that needed a lot of improvement but his attitude towards his teammates, she decided to make up the excuse that him asking was in itself a stupid decision.

“I’m really sorry, I wo--“N suddenly gasped and smiled widely. Without thinking, he lunged towards J and grabbed her by the shoulders.”J, you’re a genius!!” He exclaimed. Before the confused leader could get a word in, he turned heel and sprinted outside. As what just happened processed in J’s mind, she quickly realized what he might mean by that and sighed.”Great.” She mumbled exasperatedly, turning around to go think of what to do (and definitely not cuddle with V).

If she had watched for just one more second, she would’ve seen N open his wing compartment and take off.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Uzi asked. She took a step closer to the edge of the bridge and immediately broke the one universal rule when it comes to heights; Never look down.

The realization of how high she really was and how easy it would be to slip and fall to her death made her feel like two hands were wrapping around her throat. She gasped and jumped back, but was caught by an arm behind her. Uzi whipped her head to see N giving her that same comforting smile that he gave her during the free fall. She couldn’t quite describe it, but immediately she felt like she was going to be okay, no matter what happens next.”Don’t worry! The snow down below is more than enough to catch your hypothetical fall.” N reassured her.

Uzi took a quick deep breath, then looked back at the edge.“I want to do it, but at the same time... I’m really...” She started trailing off, not exactly wanting to embarrass herself by admitting that she was scared, even though she was really starting to trust N enough to let her guard down. It felt like she was hesitant to trust him, and at the same time, she knew as a fact that he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her. It was as if trusting him with her life was easier than trusting him with her emotions, and she secretly felt guilty about it.

Or was she not trusting herself not to judge her fears?

“Scared?” N guessed, moving his arm to place a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Bite me! I’m not scared!” Uzi snapped. N didn’t jump back or retract his hand, already knowing she just said that as a reaction.“I’m just... Okay, yeah, I’m scared.” She finally confessed, both to N and to herself. N smiled at her and moved in front of her.

“I know. I was really scared my first time, too. And you know I wouldn’t push you into doing something you really don’t want to do.” He started walking backwards, getting closer to the edge with each step. Despite knowing he could fly, Uzi couldn’t help but feel more and more worried with each step.”But you’ll never learn to fly without taking the first leap, and with me as your teacher, you’ll be alright.”

And with the last step, he was falling.

Uzi made a short dash to the ledge and looked down, but instead of seeing the terrifying heights, she saw N. He was now flying in place at least a few meters below with his arms outstretched and an encouraging smile on his face.”I’ll catch you if you fall!” He yelled over the loud wind. Uzi took a deep breath and opened her own wings.”I can’t believe I’m taking a leap of faith like those anime characters.” She mumbled before jumping.

For a second, her mind flashed back to the fall and she screamed. Her wings flew open in attempt to catch herself as she fell fast towards N’s arms, but her wings caught enough wind to slow her descent to somewhat of a stop. She began flapping her wings, which kind of felt like a pair of big, webbed hands with only a few fingers, and soon gained enough altitude to have some small sense of control. She still felt incredibly uneasy and out of control, but the flapping kept her up and she was in the right position.

It was scary, but it was a start.

N glided calmly underneath her with his body upside down and his arms ready to reach out and catch her if needed. Right now, though, it seemed more like something that would be appreciated than necessary.”There we go! You got it!” He cheered. When Uzi felt herself falling a bit, she gasped and began flapping again so she would be brought back to her original height. She kept her gaze on what was in front of her incase something suddenly showed up and tried to calm her racing mind with deep breaths.

Uzi felt a lot like this during the time she wanted to learn to skateboard during her elementary school years.

She was startled when she experienced the feeling of not having both feet on the solid ground and instead standing on something with four wheels near the edges. The way the flimsy board wobbled under her and messed with her balance terrified her. At least she had the floor to jump onto when she had enough. Now, Uzi was putting her faith in her balance again, but this time with a pair of wings and an experienced flyer cheering her on and giving her the encouragement she needed.

Uzi glanced down at N, who gave her a smile and two thumbs up. She was calmer now and smiled a bit, almost shyly.

N flipped back over and flew higher to be more at the same level with her.”You’re doing really great, Uzi!” He cheered. He sounded really excited about her progress already, and Uzi felt her core heat up from his praise.

Sure, it felt good when Thad complimented her and encouraged her- he’s her friend, after all- and Ron’s advice and attention towards her health made her feel seen, but something about hearing it from N was... special.

She felt a sense of pride hearing the support, and that pride turned into determination to keep trying.

Little by little, Uzi began balancing herself more easily and became more confident, but it was starting to become tiring. She had to put a fair bit of strength into her wing beats to keep herself up, and she didn’t exactly have much exercise with them until now. She would need to land in a bit.“Hey, N? How do I land?“ Uzi asked, not really wanting to give away that she was getting tired. He already knew, though. N dipped down and moved underneath her, nudging her abdomen slightly with his head to hopefully hint at what he was doing. Uzi wrapped her arms around N’s shoulders and pulled herself closer so she would be on his shoulders. She couldn’t lay on his back since his wing compartment was there.”Is this good?” N asked. Uzi used both arms and legs to hold on and folded her wings.”Yeah. Yeah, this is good.” She replied, earning a smile from her tall friend.

N slowly began flying higher, lowering the power of his propellers to maintain the steady climb and flapping his metal wings that glistened in the moonlight. Or planet-light. Whatever that ringed object that acted similar to a moon was referred to as.

Uzi has ridden on his shoulders during high-speed flights, but this was much slower. It was a nice and calm pace, and surprisingly just what she needed.

As they ascended to higher altitudes, Uzi could see far and wide across the dense forests surrounding the mines, where the bridge was. The nights were usually plagued with harsh blizzards that could change in barely a second, but there wasn’t a single cloud for miles. The ringed moon in the sky reflected the sunlight, but it was weak enough that N could fly peacefully instead of getting overheated quicker. Still, it’s ethereal white glow dimly lit the forests below and reflected off the snow, making the ground seem brighter than the sky.

Speaking of the sky, it was... beautiful. There was barely any smog before the nuclear winter, as humans had discovered ways to reduce pollution while they work, so any that had been there was probably gone now after two decades. The clear sky gave way to distant galaxies and stars, and it kind of made Uzi realize how big the universe really was. Stars littered space like glitter on a dark sheet of paper and the galaxies kind of looked like giant glowing smoke machines. All those distant exoplanets, all those different ecosystems that are yet to be explored in person, it all made Uzi feel like she could open her wings and fly into unknown space. She wanted to get up close and glide through the drifting stardust.

Of course, that wouldn’t be possible without a legit rocket or something, but even if it was possible, she couldn’t do that until she learned to fly on her own.

She started loosening her grip in her arms and slowly began sitting upright as the fear and anxiety she felt slipped away little by little. She usually sat upright when they flew for fun, so N considered the shift a good sign.

Once they reached a good height, N stopped flapping and simply stayed at that level while still flying over the landscape. It was peaceful.

Up ahead, the first cloud finally appeared over the forest, and it was definitely a storm cloud. By now, though, they would just fly over it with how high up they were, so they weren’t very worried about being knocked out of the sky.

N continued gliding peacefully over the clouds and harsh blizzards below, and the dense forest below was replaced with a sea of clouds. The moon’s light also bounced off the clouds similar to the snow, and oddly made them look like a sort of light blueish color.

After a few more seconds of silence, N finally spoke up.”The cabin’s just up ahead. Do you want to go down there or the colony?” He asked. By now, Uzi was no longer holding on with her arms and just sat on his shoulders. The urge to let herself fall and open her wings to glide over the light blue tinted clouds was growing bigger by the minute.”I want to try again.” She answered, this time sounding a lot more confident.

“Alright. Whenever you’re ready.” N said.

#au #murder drones #murder drones n #murder drones j #murder drones fanfic #murder drones uzi #md n #md uzi doorman #md uzi #murder drones flying #murder drones flying lesson #murder drones AU #murder drones n and Uzi

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truearchangel · 4 hours

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[ CARRY + REVERSE]: sender, having been carried by the receiver for other reasons, winds up sitting in their lap once they sit down. (Micah carries Michael - @promiseofabrotherskeeper )

@promiseofabrotherskeeper SITTING IN SOMEONE'S LAP [ CARRY + REVERSE]: sender, having been carried by the receiver for other reasons, winds up sitting in their lap once they sit down.

“PUT ME DOWN!” This, to him, was incredibly demeaning and pissing him off. It was completely unfair too that a creature he created in Purgatory had a few inches on him in height. Not much, but it was still noticeable and right now it was irritating him. As much as being snuck up on and just picked up was. He doesn’t care that he had been in the office for several days straight, without seeing light, eating, bathing, sleeping.

The work had piled up and when the work piles up? You have to get through it. Have to push through until it was at a manageable level. It didn’t help that several of his brothers had run off, that Gabriel was in the mortal realm screwing around again, that Raphael had gone down to Lust again, that Azrael was protesting working–ʜᴇ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜᴇ.

The stress had been getting to him, had been cracking him at the seams, picking him apart and chewing him over. He had a moment, at the desk, where he snapped and actually crushed his pen in his hand to keep the tears of stress back. It had worked, surprisingly, but only because the broken pieces of the pen had split his hand open. Which, of course, was when this creature burned from his own hatred at himself had apparently decided to show up. There was an awkward staring contest over the desk, where Micah looked to be considering his choices, and this was the answer to that.

He definitely had a fight on his hands.

Michael hit, kicked, even broke the holy sword out in an attempt to free himself. He was actually making progress, he could feel the grip on him loosening, the struggle to hang onto him. They had reached one of the lounges when Micah seemed to lose his hold entirely and Michael finally broke free from him. Literally, wings and all, attempting to shove the creature back–what were they, angel, demon, both?–and they tumbled to the ground when Micah attempted to make a grab for him again. To yank him back to him.

One mess of limbs later and Michael found himself sitting pissed off in the other’s lap. Someone who seemed incredibly pleased at this outcome, eying Michael’s wings behind his back.

“I’m going to stab you.” There was no real threat there, they both knew it, but it made him feel better to say it anyway.

#○ - 「 asks 」 prayers answered.#○ - 「 verse 」 shattered remains of myself.#promiseofabrotherskeeper

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bonesandthebees · 9 months

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Overhearing Tomys talk is so fun. 1. The kid is hilarious. 2. It gives us a lot of insight about how he works. He’s just a kid hanging with his friends. (I hope they do the explosions some time, I want to see Wilbur try and hide the fact that he’s loosing his shit about it).

Side note: [“What else is the point of your dad being a Duke if you can’t get your best friend out of jail?”] and Tobyn to the list of Rose characters I love. (Also, I fear for his life with that execution tag and cannon).

[“You know whose reaction to that I’d really want to see though? Lord Willum.”] on the bright side, Tomys is already thinking about Wilbur and clearly thinks him to be an interesting person. Also, he’s insulted his height twice now, I think someone’s jealous.

And he just got to the quickest way to learn that you should not randomly speak your mind where people could overhear you. Also, we get to see Wilbur thinking on his feet and turning the situation around. Though I’d argue Niki is better at it, but in Wilbur!s defense, she’s didn’t get insulted.

I feel like Tomys half says yes to Niki’ invite because Wilbur clearly doesn’t want him there and he wants to piss him of and half because he looks up to Niki, who is The Heir (or one of the options).

Oh Niki is going to be so screwed when Tomys gets chosen (don’t mind me putting my bets in early). She’ll have no home (in her mother’s defense, there was no other option when she sent her daughter off). Also, having Niki talk about what she actually think of Tomys to then have her be That nice to him is a very good show about her cleverness.

I do love that Niki playing the game does shake Wilbur up about playing it too, and I’m interested to see what he can do once he starts trying, because we already see him starting to drop the etiquette more to get in Tomys good books.

(3/?)

-🎄

god writing that whole convo between tommy and tubbo and jack was so fun. I love their banter so much. they're all just kids!! tommy is a goofy kid who likes to play pranks and cause mischief and is completely oblivious to the violent game he's been thrown into

oh yeah tommy is so jealous of wilbur's height

lol yeah both niki and wilbur do a solid job at turning the conversation around back on tommy, but it's definitely niki who does it better. wilbur still would've been able to do it on his own but niki wins at social graces in situations like that.

in my mind tommy said yes to niki's offer for both those reasons. like, it was definitely at least somewhat because he wanted to annoy wilbur. but it was mostly because niki is the expected heir. she's spent nearly her entire life in the palace. she actually holds the rank of princess. not duke/duchess like quackity, but a princess. technically speaking, she's the second highest ranked person in the palace under sam. tommy is very intimidated by her but also wants to get to know her. also, he might be oblivious to most of the games, but he's not a total idiot. when the (likely) future queen invites you to talk, you talk.

I mean technically speaking niki could go back to Summerdam if things were to go to shit, it just wouldn't feel like home to her. it would keep her safe, but she wouldn't be happy there. partially because of the place, but mostly because wilbur wouldn't be there. he's been her closest friend nearly her entire life so far. she wouldn't do well if she were suddenly pulled away from him.

niki playing the game and inspiring wilbur to do the same was so satisfying to write. again, it's her propriety. she's learned how to be a lady and interact with people she dislikes. while wilbur knows he should do the same, he struggles more with it. so niki is leading by example, and wilbur is able to suck it up and go along with it.

#ask #spruce anon #rose ch 3

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bonkleton · 3 months

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Fused Frenemies B.A.A

Usually people talk about mass going to your tail end, not coming from it! ---- Continued from Fused Frenemies B.A... Phoebe was leaning forward, having trouble balancing the new weight of her tail, but she still wanted to return to her original stance if possible. She leaned back, but her massive tail caused her to topple over, letting out a cry as her limbs flailed and she landed on a small pile of her own serpentine backside. Sophie couldn't help but giggle. She pushed her body forward with her tail, off the tower of coils she had been sitting on, carrying her humanoid part through the air as more and more length of tail grew out behind her, suspending her with the coil tower as leverage. She folded her arms above Phoebe as her legs hung in the air. "Serves you right for screwing us up, you know." Phoebe rolled her eyes. "You're one to talk, miss anaconda-butt." Sophie let more length out of her tail and piled it up under where her body was suspended, creating a new seat of coils, then lowered herself onto it. "For real though, compared to morphing involuntarily when anyone suggests it, this is nothing." Phoebe stood with some difficulty, keeping most of her tail on the ground so she didn't have to lift it or balance it for the moment. "And honestly, I'm happy for you, Sophie." Phoebe said genuinely. "This isn't really a big deal for me either; I'll manage." Phoebe decided to try sending her tail around her body in a loop, to try to center her mass and keep her balance more easily. Lifting her tail in this arrangement, she found that it worked! She could stand up straight and lift her tail off the ground - progress! Looking up, Phoebe planned to carefully walk across the room, but she was greeted by more coils of Sophie's tail, strewn around the ground like black-and-gray spaghetti for a Brobdingnagian. "Hey can you pull some of that back in?" Phoebe asked. Sophie giggled mischievously. "Do you have what it takes to cross the Serpent's Lair?" she asked with theatrical drama in her voice. Phoebe sighed. "Fine, I'll play along." She took careful steps forward, elongating her legs to step carefully around Sophie's tail without losing her balance, and she made quick progress toward the basement door! But suddenly, Sophie's coils bent and slithered, bending Phoebe's flexible legs easily, which sent her completely off-kilter and back down to the floor in a pile. Sophie laughed again, and Phoebe was now starting to get genuinely annoyed. Phoebe didn't feel like she had a place to speak out at Sophie for getting back at her, but she still felt like this was going further than it needed to. Suddenly, the pair of them began to feel their tails quiver, as if the flesh inside was building up to something. "Oh crap, I feel weird again," Sophie warned. "Tail?" Phoebe asked. "Tail." Sophie confirmed. As the rippling of their unstable flesh reached a peak, their tails immediately started to retract into their bodies, apparently a result of their respective regenerative abilities setting their bodies back to normal. However, they could also feel their bodies filling with the mass from their tails, almost like it was flowing inside them and filling them like water balloons. "Uhhhhhh," Phoebe watched as her tail slipped into her body, but as it did, her body seemed to grow wider, rounder, maybe even-- "Fatter?" Phoebe asked in disbelief. "Huh? No," Sophie answered, looking at herself. She was definitely filling with the mass of her tail, but it seemed to be affecting her more...proportionately. "Bigger." A moment later this observation actually sunk in. "Wait! Shit! Bigger????" Indeed, even as Phoebe's tail had finished absorbing into her body, leaving her with a much fuller, yet quite curvy, body, Sophie seemed to simply be enlarging as her tail resorbed. She had quickly reached the height of the ceiling, and as her silicone-like head bounced on the ceiling, she knew it would keep going much further. Her tail was only a fraction shorter; she had strung out so much of it, she wasn't sure how big she would get when this was over. Sophie started to look anxious as she sat down and pulled her legs into her chest, trying not to fill the room quite as much. Phoebe's attention was somehow torn away from her own enthickening and became glued to Sophie's embiggening. Sophie watched nervously as her tail continued to slink into her backside, her growth seeming to slow down as each extra meter of tail made up less of her total mass, but seeing there was still so much tail to go. She felt the floor slide under her butt as she grew, saw the room closing in, seeing Phoebe look more and more like a chubby garden gnome in terms of size, less the towering woman Sophie usually saw her as. "This is...too much, I'm too big." Sophie murmured sadly. Phoebe was struck by Sophie's change in attitude. "What do you mean?" she asked, not sure what else to say. Sophie's tail finished resorption, Sophie's head stopping its rise less than 20cm from the ceiling, even in a sitting fetal position. "It's over. I mean, look at me. I'm done growing, I absorbed all that mass I laid out, and now I can't do anything to fix it." She seemed to be on the verge of tears, wrapping her arm around her lower legs in shame. "I did this to myself; it's over." Phoebe snaked her newly thickened body behind Sophie and around to her left side, stretching her arm to put her hand on Sophie's right shoulder 3 meters away. "Hey girl, we'll figure something out! Holly's the smartest person I know, and she's already good with shrinking tech, eh?" Sophie sniffed. "It's not that, it's just, I was an asshole. I was being a dick to you and it bit me in the ass. Sure Holly might figure something out, again, but I need to stop screwing things up like this. First the auto-morphing, now this big-ness. And you were being nice to me, too! I just kept being an asshole. What's wrong with me?" Phoebe smiled and gave Sophie a hug, her arms stretching all the way around Sophie's giant body, a few times for good measure. "Hey, now you sound like my inner monologue, girl, you quit that." Sophie was surprised to hear this, turning to look Phoebe in the eye as Phoebe stretched her neck out to put her head in front of Sophie's meter-wide face. "Just focus on what comes next, eh?" Sophie nodded and smiled. "Thanks Phoebe." Phoebe nodded back, then retracted her arms as her legs walked over to join her chest on Sophie's left side. "Now let's ask Holly if she knows somewhere that sells 20XL cargo jorts." Sophie laughed a little, feeling much better already, and ready to focus on whatever came next. ---- NEXT - AU Shenanigans: Up a Few Sizes (TO BE WRITTEN LATER) ---- Thanks to NoahWave for doing this comm for me! You should check him out, because he does awesome stuff! : D Hope you enjoy! ~ Bonkie

Posted using PostyBirb

#oc #superhero #bendyworld #re-flex #phlex #gts #chubby #stretchy #elastic #elasticity

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heisenho · 3 years

Text

Gifts

Karl Heisenberg x Fem!Reader

Summary: Daniela has been giving you gifts, Heisenberg does not really take it too well.

Warnings: SMUT! MINORS DNI!

A/N: Hello, I am here with my first Heisenberg fic and I really love him sdfsdksf This is basically Porn without Plot, please don't kill me lol. I haven't written smut in a while, in fact I haven't written in a while, period. So this is a little rusty, but i like it, so... Heisenberg stans, come get yall juice!! Also, requests are open!! ~Beff

You hummed softly to yourself as you walked towards the bathroom. Heisenberg had gone out to meet with his family, and you were all alone. Daniela, the only other person who knew about you being there, had given you some things to make your stay with Heisenberg a little... more bearable.

Cute clothes, some nice perfume (for some reason?), deodorant, small things she definitely did not find from their victims luggage. Every once in a while when Heisenberg brings horribly wrapped gifts back to you, you know Daniela has found yet another trinket to give you.

“Why does she wrap those?” Karl would ask.

“You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

You would smile up at him, holding the gift close to your heart. Karl would roll his eyes, behind his sunglasses of course, and go take care of anything else that needed to be done. He didn’t leave you alone a lot, but when he did, you knew he was feeling upset. Jealousy mostly.

You wore nothing but a cute silk robe that Daniela had gifted you, and held a large fluffy towel against your stomach, another gift from the Dimitrescu (probably belonged to her mother). You were about to reach the bathroom when you heard footsteps through the house.

“Hey-”

You turned to find Karl, finding him standing in the doorway. His sunglasses were off and his eyes were dark, filled with something primal, something you had never seen before.

“Hi?”

Your voice brought his attention back to you. His eyes raked up your body before finally settling on yours once more.

“Daniela give you that?”

“Uh-” You swallowed hard, watching Heisenberg stalk towards you, slowly, “yes.”

He smirked, “I’m beginning to think this isn’t something so innocent.”

Furrowing your brows and cocking your head, you blinked at him. “Something more? What are you- I thought we-”

“I thought so too.”

“If you want, I can go take it off? I just wanted to take a bath, and- I don’t know, feel cute...”

“Take it off.”

His eyes were darker now, his body tense. You nodded meekly and turned back towards the room you had been staying in. You started to walk towards it, but were stopped.

“No, I mean right now.”

“Karl, I’m-” Your voice grew quiet, almost a whisper, “I’m not wearing clothes under this.”

“I know.”

It clicked. Fuck. He wanted to see you naked. The two of you had shared a couple of heated moments, but never anything further than tongue kissing and almost dry humping. Mother Miranda had a way of stopping anything from happening. She had the best timing it seemed. But, he had already dealt with Miranda, so now, you were all his.

“I don’t know,” you felt like you were going to combust.

Karl was on you now, looking down at you with a lust filled gaze. Almost animalistic. You breath caught and you stared up at him, frozen. His hand met the towel in your arms and he took it from you, softly, and examined it.

“Another gift, I presume? This looks like my sister’s towel...”

You nodded, throat too dry to speak. Karl threw the towel down and your head turned towards it, watching it soar through the sky. Within an instance, Karl’s hand was on your cheek, forcing you to look back at him.

“I promise, I do not like Daniela that way, and I can assure you she doesn’t like me either.”

His hand met the silk tie on the robe and his thumb ran over it, “Hm,” he was deep in thought now, “I don’t think most people give silk robes to friends.” His voice was low and soft, and he was hovering above your face.

Your eyes screwed shut and you blew out air through your closed lips, “She gave them to me so I could impress you.”

Your words came out fast and almost incoherent, but Heisenberg caught it. He definitely caught it. Your eyes slowly opened back up and you watched him smirk down at you.

“Oh?”

“Yes, can I please, please go wash off now?”

You weren’t too sure how you got yourself into this particular predicament, but there you were, pushed against the wall, Karl’s thigh grinding against your cunt. Water was running in the background, but all you could focus on was warm hands under the silk robe that had somehow not been ripped from your body yet.

It had been mostly untied though, Karl’s hands beginning to roam across your stomach and towards your breasts. You let out a soft moan and Karl smiled against your neck.

“Fuck, so soft,” he whispered against your skin as his calloused hands found your breasts.

“The water,” Your attention was brought back to reality when you remembered you had bathwater running.

Karl groaned and moved slightly. His hands grabbed your wrists; he held them above your head. “What are you-” You tried to ask, but a piece of metal came flying towards you, and hit the wall; clamping against your wrists. You were stuck now.

Karl turned around and tended the tub, turning the water off. Your thighs rubbed together, the warmth that was once there now gone. You let out a whine and pouted at Heisenberg as he turned around.

“Let me go!” You pulled against the metal, “Why did you-”

“I don’t need you finishing a job that I’m more than capable of handling myself.”

You cocked your head at him and furrowed your brows. “What?”

“I don’t need you finger fucking yourself, you’ll be getting the real thing soon enough.”

You pouted and kept rubbing your thighs together, trying to get some sort of friction, but nothing was like the real thing. Your robe was hanging from your body now, the ribbon hanging off of your waist loosely.

Karl stopped the water and turned his attention back to you, “I was going to just fuck you right there, but I’d really rather the water not get cold.”

The metal fell from your wrists and your arms dropped to your sides. Karl motioned for you to remove your robe and furrowed your brows. “No. You aren’t even undressed.”

Karl’s face dropped, his eyes narrowing. You felt like you had made a grave mistake. Your mouth went dry and sheepishly took off the robe. As the robe hit the ground, so did your eyes. You instinctively wrapped your arms around your waist and kept your eyes low.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Karl stepped towards you, one of his hands reaching for you. “Come here,” He stepped towards you and gently grabbed your biceps, pulling you closer. “See, you look much better without that robe.”

With a nervous glint in your eyes, you looked up at him. You were beginning to feel a little more comfortable. You let your arms drop to your sides and you inhaled sharply. “I think it’s your turn now.” Your voice was soft.

“Of course,” he smiled down at you.

He motioned for you to go ahead and get in the tub and you did so, gladly. The water was warm and helped you untense immediately. You sat down and leaned back in the tub, your eyes closing. The back of your neck rested on the edge of the tub.

You could hear a belt and pants unzipping, but you stayed put where you were, frozen in the hot water. The water shifted after a couple minutes and Karl was on you in an instant. He placed his palm on the back of your neck and pulled you closer to him. Your eyes fluttered open and you met his stare. Your eyes traveled down his body and stopped at his waist, that was all you could see from your -and his- position.

Karl’s hand moved from the back of your neck and to your chin, coaxing you to look back at him once more. His lips pressed to yours and his tongue instantly pushed into your mouth. You let out a moan and wrapped your arms around his neck.

Karl leaned back, into a sitting position, and easily brought you with him. The air was cold against your once warm skin, causing you to shiver. Karl’s hands roamed your torso and his mouth began to travel towards your jaw.

“So beautiful,” he mumbled, his hands grabbing you a little too tightly.

This caused you to let out a yelp, which led to Karl smiling against your skin. His teeth nipped at your jaw, down to your neck, and he was pulling you as close to him as possible. Your bodies curved together, perfectly made for each other.

Your back arched and you pressed harder against him as his lips trailed down to your breasts. One of Karl’s hands rested on the small of your back while the other held the back of your neck again. He was holding you in place. No chance of escape, but you did not want to escape. You wanted him more than anything.

The bath quickly spiraled into a heated makeout session and that’s all it was. Neither of you got a chance to actually bathe. You knew you’d be annoyed later, but for the time being, you were more than okay with it.

“It’s getting cool.” You gasped out between soft moans.

“Hmph,” Karl huffed against your skin. “I think we should continue in my room anyway.”

You nodded and the both of you stood up. Karl’s hand grabbed your and he helped you out of the tub. Standing beside, naked and vulnerable, you realized how much bigger he was. You weren’t too sure of his height, but, fuck, he was tall.

Karl grabbed a towel and sloppily dried the both of you off before easily picking you up and making his way towards his room. Once you did reach his room, he threw you on the bed and loomed over you. You inhaled loudly and held yourself up with your forearms.

“Lay flat on your back.”

You cocked your head, but you obviously didn’t move fast enough. Karl’s hand met your shoulder and he gently pushed you down.

“I said lay down.”

Your back hit the soft bed and your eyes hit the ceiling. You could hear Karl complain about you being a brat and you huffed. You were going to protest, really, you were! But then, the feeling of Karl’s lips on your inner thigh made you come to a complete halt.

Your hair stood on end and your fists balled around the sheets. Karl’s fingers danced around your entrance and you let out a shaky sigh. You could hear him laugh.

“So wet, already, kitten.” Karl’s fingers pushed into your pussy and his lips stayed pressed to your thigh, slowly making his way up. “All for me...”

You let out a hiss as two of Karl’s fingers pulled out and quickly pushed back in. Karl shifted and, while his fingers pumped in and out, his lips met your cunt and his tongue swirled around your clit.

“Fuck,” you moaned out, “Karl, please-”

“Use your words, kitten.”

“Please, let me cum!”

Karl let out a low growl and his fingers pumped a little faster. His tongue moved back to your clit and lightly pressed onto it, while rubbing circles around it. A heat began to pool into your stomach and you let out a whine. You tried to speak, but you couldn’t. All you could do was moan and cry out.

“Cum for me,” Karl rumbled, and your back arched into him.

Quickly, you came undone. Stars blurred your vision and everything tensed. Karl let you ride out your orgasm, gently licking at your pussy while you came down. You were a twitching mess, lying spread out on his bed.

“Please, I need you, I need you to fuck me!”

Your voice was low, but the excitement was there. Karl crawled over you and you looked up at him. His hand grabbed at his cock and he began to pump it a couple of times, percum spilling from the head.

When you really got a good look at his cock, you were nervous. Worried you weren’t ready for him.

“Trust me, kitten, you’re wet enough.”

You nodded and leaned back. Karl positioned himself at the entrance of your pussy and slowly pushed in. Moaning from the pleasure, your hips bucked into his. Karl froze and his tongue clicked at you.

“Eager, are we?”

You couldn’t help but nod.

“Fine.”

Karl’s movements were slow at first, steady. You whined under him and rocked your hips upwards. Karl lazily grabbed your hip and pushed into the bed, not letting you move anymore. You groaned and wanted nothing more than for his hips ro roll into yours.

Suddenly, he was picking up the pace. He leaned his forehead against yours and let out a guttural groan.

“So fucking good... And all mine.”

“All yours, fuck- please, I promise, I’m all yours.”

Something in his eyes became very dark, animalistic almost. His pace quickened again, his hips pressing into yours before pulling back and pushing all the way back in. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room. The sound of your wailing was surely heard by the villagers.

“Going to fuck you so good, kitten. You’re being so good for me.”

You let out a loud cry of pleasure, words becoming too hard to say. Your brain was mush and your body was only reacting to Karl. “Karl!” You let out a loud cry, finally reaching your orgasm. He seemed close too.

His hips were rutting into you, his movements becoming sloppy and fast. He was growling in your ear, his chest rumbling. You were easily sent into another orgasm. Your eyes screwed shut and your nails clawed down his scarred back.

“So fucking good, kitten- Fuck!”

Karl finally reached his orgasm, fucking his release into you. His hips slowed and his growling became more quiet.

“Let’s stay like this a moment.”

His cock pressed deep inside you, unmoving, as your pussy clenched around him. His chest pressed yours and his breathing was rugged and fast.

“So,” your voice hoarse, “Should Daniela give me gifts more often?”

That was it, Karl was absolutely ready for round two.

#karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg imagine #karl heisenberg x reader #re8 imagine #not sure what else to tag this with lol #if yall have any requests please let me know <3 #i havent written in... ages #so i feel like this could have been better but i do like it!

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thebaddestofbatches · 3 years

Text

The Bad Batch Preferences pt. 1

Kissing

------------

Crosshair

Favorite Place: Just behind your ear and along your jaw. He prefers to wrap his arms around you from behind and these places are easier to reach. Plus they’re more sensitive and he likes to watch you squirm.

Makeouts: Definitely. And frequently. Whenever he gets back from a mission, you do something he finds hot, or just because he hasn’t kissed you in awhile.

First Kiss:

It was hot on Techitua. Dusty too. You lowered your shades on your nose, a polarized version of Tech’s goggles as Crosshair opened a case on the ground.

A makeshift shooting range was set up parallel to the Marauder, a metal piece with a target spray painted on it placed at a distance of 25 meters.

Hunter had told you that if you wanted to stay on board, you needed to know how to defend yourself and assigned you to Crosshair, without even asking if you had any prior experience.

“Alright. I don’t expect you to be top notch with this thing.” Crosshair said, his tone borderline patronizing as he removed a small blaster from the case. “Blasters take a lot of practice to use correctly and you’re only a doctor. I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t hit anything.”

You raised an eyebrow at him and took the blaster from his hand. Barely looking at the target, you took aim and fired one, two, three, four, five shots.

Crosshair’s slack jaw and a quick glance told you they all hit the bullseye.

“You forget, soldier,” You said smugly. “I’m an army doctor. I can rip you apart and put you back together just as easily.”

Crosshair’s toothpick hit the dirt and then he was on you, smashing his lips to your hungrily.

.*(*)*..**(*)**...**(***)**...**(*)**..*(*)*.

Echo

Favorite place: Your hand. He likes to hold your hand and bring it up to his lips for absentminded kisses. When you cup his face, he turns his head and presses kisses to your palm.

Makeouts: Not too often. He’s shy after all his modifications and you definitely have to initiate them, but once he relaxes, then he’s into it.

First Kiss:

“Dang ferreck!” You swore as the control panel of the rescued radio shocked you for the fifth time that night.

You gave it a swift thump on the top in retaliation, gritting your teeth.

You needed this to work. It had to work. It’d been so long since you heard real music.

Another try at the wiring and another spark that singed your fingertips. You let out another string of curses and tossed your screwdriver onto the counter with a clank before thumping your forehead against the table repeatedly.

There was a gentle touch on your back that stopped your assault on your cranium. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. You could feel the poke of Echo’s prosthetic through your tunic.

“You alright?” He asked.

“No,” You grumbled into the metal.

Echo sighed quietly and after some shifting behind you, you raised your head to see his human hand disconnect two crossed wires and reconnect them at new points. There was a fizz of static and then a gentle song began to float through the speakers.

You let out a whoop of joy and leaped to your feet, grabbing the clone by his collar to pull him down for a quick kiss.

“Thank you!” You squealed, snatching up your screwdriver again and leaving Echo standing there, stunned and pink.

.*(*)*..**(*)**...**(***)**...**(*)**..*(*)*.

Hunter

Favorite place: Your neck. He likes to feel your pulse point and kiss the sunmarks and spots along your skin. It’s also one of the best places for him to get your scent.

Makeouts: Not as often as Crosshair, but frequent. He likes to be affectionate with you and when he gets time or feels stressed, being around you and close to you is his priority.

First Kiss:

You’d been separated from the Batch in a marketplace and were now wandering aimlessly.

As you passed an alleyway you heard a whistle and a man sidled up to you.

“Hey gorgeous,” He said. “Where you going?”

“Away from you,” You muttered, but he heard it anyway and snorted. “Feisty girl.”

A gag rose up in your throat and you increased your pace. Behind you the man called. “Hey I’m talking to you! Though I appreciate the view!”

A hand landed on your butt and you whirled, fist raised to deck the stranger for daring to touch you. Before you could though, someone stepped between you and punched him, hard.

You looked up to see Hunter, a deep scowl on his tattooed face as he glowered at your harasser.

“Don’t touch her,” He growled, drawing up to his full height.

The man spat and launched himself at Hunter, sending them both rolling to the ground.

There was some yelling and sounds of fists hitting bodies before Hunter scrambled to his feet breathing hard as your harasser lay on the ground, groaning.

Hunter turned to you with worried eyes and you punched him in the arm hard and then quickly pecked his lips. “You didn’t have to make a scene.”

“Sorry,” He said, not sounding sorry at all as he pulled you in for another kiss.

.*(*)*..**(*)**...**(***)**...**(*)**..*(*)*.

Tech

Favorite place: Your forehead and temples. He can get so busy with this or that and a quick peck to the forehead is his go-to for affection when he’s caught up in something.

Makeouts: Usually whenever he gets an idea he wants to try with you. He learned affection mainly from books so he’s picking up more and more as he goes. Usually you initiate the sessions. However, when he gains confidence later in the relationship, things get more serious as he experiments.

First Kiss:

“Tech?” You called from the porch of your hideout. Hunter had sent you to fetch the male for dinner and so far he was nowhere to be found.

“In here!” The clone called and you followed the sound into the shed to see Tech holding two vials above a pot.

“What’re you doing?” You asked leaning on the doorframe.

“I’m testing a theory. The substance excreted from the fire salamanders’ skin may have some properties that can boost our explosives.” He replied, carefully tipping the vial of white powder in, followed by the orange liquid.

“And you thought it was a good idea to test that in my shed?” You said, quirking a brow.

The technician had the decency to look a little abashed. “Well it isn’t in the house.”

He set the tubes aside and picked up a firestarter, holding it over the pot. “And a spark to trigger the reaction..”

Crack. Fwoomp! Boom!

The small windows shattered and you ducked as a blaze burst up from the pot and then died out just as quickly, sending up a cloud of ash and dust.

When the smoke receded, you heard Tech give a small cough and looked over to see his whole face covered in soot and the front of his normally gelled back hair spiked up.

You burst into giggles, picking up a small cloth from the worktable and approaching the clone to wipe his goggles clean.

He blinked at you from behind the lenses, like he was surprised to see you and you smiled. “That went well.”

Tech gave you a sheepish look. “I’m sorry about the windows. I’ll fix them tomorrow.”

You laughed again, waving him off. “It’s alright. I was prepared for damages when I brought you lot here.”

He gave you a grateful look and suddenly you couldn’t help yourself, darting forward and pecking his lips.

Tech immediately turned scarlet. “What was that for?”

You shrugged. “For being you.”

And then you passed him the cloth with a wink. “Hunter says dinner’s ready. You should probably clean up a bit before you come inside.”

.*(*)*..**(*)**...**(***)**...**(*)**..*(*)*.

Wrecker

Favorite place: Your cheeks and nose. He likes to pepper kisses all over your face. He’s so enraptured by you that he wants to keep you close at all times to make sure you’re real. Plus he’s a massive cuddlebug.

Makeouts: On occasion. But this boy is too much of a teddy bear for anything more than gentle loving touches. He’s slow and sweet and so very careful with you.

First Kiss:

The Batch was pinned down in an abandoned bunker as a gang faction gathered outside. Echo was doing his best to reboot the turrets while Tech worked on the doors, but unless it happened fast, you weren’t getting out of this unscathed.

You were peering out one of the broken windows with Hunter, Crosshair, and Wrecker picking off grunts where you could, but they had greater numbers and illegal firepower.

A shot from a bike mounted turret hit the wall above your lookout and the ceiling caved in, causing Wrecker tackle you, cradling you to him as he rolled away.

“You alright?” He asked, pushing off of you, his voice higher than normal.

“Yeah.” You said and Hunter swore as glass shattered behind you.

“Echo!! What’s the status on those defense systems?!”

“Same as you asked thirty seconds ago!” Echo snapped. “These circuits are rubbish! This place should have been scrapped for parts years ago!”

Parts.

A light bulb went off in your brain and you immediately turned to Wrecker. “Give me a charge!”

“Why?!”

“Trust me!”

He gave you a look you couldn’t read under the helmet, but dropped an explosive in your palm.

Immediately you started dismantling it. “I need a gravmag, some wires, and anything explosive we can spare. Oh and Echo’s arm.”

“What?” Said Echo.

You ignored him and started your hunt for parts as you snatched a screwdriver, a multipurpose laser tool, and pliers from Tech’s backpack, stripped a console, broke Crosshair’s gravmag off of his grappling hook, and took three more charges from Wrecker. You dismantled, screwed, and rewired before beckoning Echo over and having him weld it all together.

“(Y/N),” Wrecker asked as he fired off another shot. “What are you doing?”

You waved him off as you activated your new, shoddy weapon of mass destruction and bolted for the window, lobbing it as hard and far as you could.

“Hit the dirt!” You yelled and there was a large boom and the whole building rattled.

When the dust cleared, you beamed proudly at the clear landscape.

The gang that had been surrounding your hiding place was now lying unconscious having been thrown a good 50 meters in all directions at extreme speeds.

“What-“ Said Crosshair in his rare stunned tone. “What did you do?”

“Simply,” You said. “I reversed the polarity and made it into a big bang.”

Wrecker whooped and tossed his helmet aside, scooping you into a bear hug and peppering kisses all over your face. “THAT’S MY GIRL!”

You turned pink and he drew back from you enough to press a sweet kiss to your lips, which only served to fill your face with crimson.

There was an awkward cough from one of his brothers and Wrecker turned a similar shade of red, setting you back on the ground.

“Er-“ He said, patting your shoulder awkwardly. “Good job.”

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xiaophobic · 3 years

Text

‧₊˚.𖧧. GINGERBREAD CASTLES!

including! — itto/reader <3

genre/warnings! — fluff, itto is tall, elements of christmas, tiny bit of suggestiveness but it’s really jus kisses, light profanity, use of the petnames “sunshine” & “sweetheart”, collab submission for @xiaosmoon ‘s holidays collab [ here! ]

༉‧₊˚. SYNOPSIS! — it’s just some harmless teasing, you mean, why does he have to look so good while making a gingerbread house? acting on an urge could’ve cost you the competition, and yet the promise of him doting on you right now seems significantly better than a victory.

several pieces of festively decorated packaging lay strewn among your kitchen floor, discarded far too quickly to be properly thrown away. you couldn’t be bothered to pick them up at the moment, however, not when you’re knee deep in competition like this.

“what kind of house even is that?” you playfully scoff after glancing at his creation. multicolored gumdrops and small specks of various other candies are glued messily to his gingerbread house with icing. it’s a sight to behold, that’s for sure.

“uh uh, castle! get it right, baby!” itto’s fangs graze his grin proudly as he works with what’d look like practiced precision if you didn’t know him.

“gotta make somethin’ fit for a king.”

you shake your head in loving annoyance, reverting your attention to your own craft. the competition was based on your creativity, “whoever makes the best gingerbread house wins!” his earlier suggestion rung in your mind as you swirled about your piping bag. obviously you couldn’t just let him win this, his competitive personality had rubbed off on you a heaping amount when he’d proposed the idea.

in going to rip open a small bag of sprinkles and add some finishing touches, a uniquely frustrated huff sounds from beside you. you’re about to remark about almost being finished, yet the words don’t seem to depart quick enough as you gaze at him in his concentrated state.

he’s pretty, of course he is, and it certainly is not helping your gingerbread house completion process. determination is evident in his expression, his tongue poking out between his lips and his eyes narrowed like his entire reputation depends on this one gingerbread “castle”. if you know him any well he probably wholeheartedly believes that. from his pristine hair tied up into a half-assed bun with strands that fade from white to red and frame his shoulders perfectly, down to the gray tank top and plaid holiday pants he’d insisted you got matching sets of that both hug him a big too snug — wait, what are you supposed to be focusing on again? he’s entirely too big of a distraction.

oh, but a bit of flirting wouldn’t ruin anything, would it? according to what you can see he’s still far from done but it’d just be a bit of friendly fire! it is based on creativity, and this would certainly be a creative way of winning. your internal monolog whilst ogling him like this is akin to an angel and devil residing within your subconscious, and it seems the devil may be winning.

“lookin’ good, big guy,” you advance on him, nuzzling into his back with a familiar lilt to your voice he tells himself to ignore. the sprinkles you’d previously been interested in are as good as lost (they’re likely on the counter still, you just can’t care any less at the moment).

“me or my castle, sunshine?” he attempts to tease back, but falls short because you are not losing.

mischievous arms snake around his waist as you move in closer, and itto feels his breath evade him when your lips knowingly smooth over his bicep. a trail forms with each petal-light kiss you offer his toned back, sneaking up slowly and meticulously in the exact way that makes him shudder each time. you may not be able to match his height but he’s definitely receiving the effects of you taking that to your advantage.

“take a guess.”

god, he should turn around right now. screw the damn gingerbread house and place you atop this counter instead. he won’t though, you’re just scheming against him, and just as much you aren’t losing he isn’t either. maybe later as a bit of a victory present.

“your little plan isn’t workin’, sweetheart,” lying straight through his teeth. “besides, i’m already done!”

done? already? you groan and sneak a look at his…castle. the entire situation almost completely slipped from memory, too absorbed in your moment to remember it all began with such an innocent holiday activity.

“y’know, i should disqualify you for your little trick just now,” you don’t react fast enough to realize he’s now facing you, big hands encircling your waist. your daze is back as briskly as it began and you genuinely feel yourself get a bit dizzy when his nail glides teasingly under your chin.

he smells of the beloved gingerbread that granted you this exchange, and in kissing him like you’d faint the next second you surmise that he tastes like it too. he probably couldn’t suppress the enticement of sweets and just impulsively indulged in a piece, kind of similar to how you acted on impulse earlier. he’s so sweet.

“i, unlike some people, enjoy winning fair and square, though,” you’d forgotten he was speaking. you’re turned around forcibly by your shoulders and shoved (with care) back in front of your gingerbread house.

“now, get back to work so i can finally win this!”

you smile. he still truly thought he was winning.

“pfft, in your dreams.”

thank you soso much for reading <333 stay safe & ily

#ALSO HIM SAYING BABY WHEN HE SAYS ITS A CASTLE #INSTEAD OF BEING AN ACTUAL PETNAME ITS MORE LIKE A PASSING REMARK YKNOW #like a THATS WHAT IM TALKIN ABOUT BABY kind of baby #i constantly feel the need to elaborate on tones cause when i write i imagine very specific scenes #wELL I GUESS THATS LIKE WHAT ALL WRITERS DO HUH #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin oneshot #genshin fluff #itto x reader #itto x reader fluff #itto oneshot #itto fluff

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mischiefandspirits · 3 years

Text

Bernard Figures It Out

Was reading through all the comments on @frostbittenbucky's post and all I could think of was that it was Bernard talking to Tim. Then I got to thinking...

"I've connected the two dots."

"You didn't connect shit."

"I've connected them."

Bernard figures out Tim's a superhero... sort of.

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

Tim fidgetted nervously as he waited on the front porch of his boyfriend’s house. Bernard had sounded so serious when he’d called during Tim’s lunch to ask him to come over after work so they could talk about something.

Which Tim had done, after spending an entire board meeting just going over the past week trying to figure out what he’d done.

The only thing he could think of was that he’d ducked out halfway through their lunch date on Wednesday to give Duke some backup, but Bernard had seemed understanding when Tim explained there was an emergency at GRC Labs. It couldn’t have been a tipping point, either, since Tim had managed to only flake on three other dates over the past few months they’d been dating. Kate had been happy to cover for him as often as she could “out of queer solidarity” when she found out Tim was dating a boy for the first time and Tim had managed to trick Bruce into covering a few actual Wayne Enterprises emergencies for him when they came up.

There had to be a reason Bernard was breaking up with him, though. Had he missed something? He definitely wasn’t forgetting an important day. He was good with days and Tam was even better, so she would have reminded him on the off chance that he had forgotten.

What was he missing?

Bernard was smiling when he opened the door, but there was a nervous energy to it that had Tim’s stomach sinking. “Hey, Tim.”

“Hey.” Tim gave his own nervous smile then slipped inside.

They went into the living room and sat down on the couch.

Tim frowned when Bernard grabbed a manila folder off the coffee table. Crud, had he screwed up enough that Bernard had had to make a list? He knew he was new to dating a guy, but he hadn’t thought he’d done that bad. He’d really been trying, especially with how his and Stephanie’s relationship had fallen apart at the end. “What -”

“Just let me speak, Tim,” Bernard said, waiting for Tim’s nod. “Okay, so you know Clark Kent, right?”

Tim blinked as Bernard opened the folder to show a picture of Clark. It looked like one of the employee pictures from the Planet’s website, with his dorky “I’m just a humble country boy” smile and the golden globe from their roof photoshopped in as the background. “Uh, yeah? I think so. He works for the Daily Planet, right? I think he’s worked at a few of Bruce’s events. Not a lot of outside reporters are willing to come to Gotham.”

“Exactly!” Bernard said, snapping his fingers and pointing at Tim.

“What?”

He pulled out the picture to show the next page was an article titled, “DAILY PLANET REPORTER… BATMAN!?”

A wave of relief washed over Tim and he placed his face in his hands. “Were you up all night on the hero conspiracy boards again?”

“No. I mean, I found this on a board and was up all night thinking about it, but I found it reasonably early.”

“One in the morning isn’t reasonable, Bernard.”

“Says the guy who’s always wide awake when I call to infodump.”

“Touché.” Tim leaned against Bernard and gave him a smile. “So tell me, why is some reporter from Metropolis from all places Batman.”

“First of all, living in Metropolis is the perfect cover. Everyone assumes Batman would live in Gotham, no one would consider he could be from anywhere else. Metropolis is outside the GMA, but close enough that the commute is still possible.”

“But it’s Metropolis.”

“And who would think Gotham’s Dark Knight lives in the sunshine capital? Plus, I hear he disappears a lot on the job. There’s gotta be a reason for it!”

Tim made a note to let Clark know he needs to cut back on the disappearing act some since people are catching on.

“And have you seen the guy? He is swol AF, babe.”

“Please don’t call me babe while you’re talking about how hot another guy is.” Especially Tim’s honorary uncle.

“You know I prefer twinks.”

“BERNARD!”

“I’m just saying,” he continued, ignoring Tim’s shout. “The guy is definitely hiding something! Besides, Kent is an investigative reporter. He’s gotta know a lot about cases and the underground and detective work.”

Not as much as he likes people to think, but more than he likes people to know Superman does, Tim mused. “But what about the other vigilantes?”

“Well, Kent has a cousin…” Bernard flipped through a folder and pulled out a picture of Kara. It looked like a screenshot of her interviewing Lena for CatCo. “She’s obviously the latest Batgirl. Look at her hair. And the first Batgirl and the current Batwoman were obviously Lois Lane, the red hair is just a wig. Did you see how she kicked butt at that last event she went to? She’s not as subtle as Kent. That means their son is the latest Robin. He’s exactly the right size.”

Oh, Damian better not hear about this, Tim cackled internally. His youngest brother hated being reminded that Jon was the same height as him despite their two years age difference. Damian definitely took after Talia when it came to body type, no matter what he said.

“And Kent also has a brother.” This time he pulled out a picture of Kon. The clone must have been caught by a reporter out shopping with Ma since he was carrying some paper bags and glaring at whoever was behind the camera. “At least, he’s supposedly Kent’s brother, but he was a teenager when he first showed up with the Kents. A lot of people think he’s actually Kent’s son, that Kent got a girl pregnant when they were teenagers and something happened to the mom so Kent had to take him in. Now the Kents are trying to hide it by saying the two are brothers.”

That was… scarily accurate actually. Especially given Luthor and Clark were close friends at the time that Kon would have theoretically been born.

“And that beef would explain why the younger Kent brother went all crime lord on Gotham for a while before reconnecting with the family.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah, Kent Jr.’s got the perfect build for Red Hood.”

Tim bit back a comment on how Kon was shorter than Jason by a good foot. Timothy Drake-Wayne should not know that. Add Jason to the list of people who can’t hear this theory.

“And then there’s this girl,” Bernard picked up a picture of Lois, Jon, and Natasha Irons walking down the street together. “No one’s sure exactly who she is, but she’s been spotted with the Kents a few times. I think the cover story is that she’s Jon’s babysitter.”

“And the actual story?”

“She’s Black Bat, obviously. That’s why she wears a mask that fully covers her face. She doesn’t want to stand out as the only African American Bat.”

“Isn’t Signal also Black?”

“Yeah, but he works in the daytime so he’s already a standout.”

“And who is Signal in this? And what about Nightwing and Red Robin?”

“Well, Nightwing’s just a Blüd who came to Gotham. He doesn’t count.”

Ouch. Sorry, Dick.

“And Red Robin is obviously an older Robin, the one who was Robin when we were kids. Kent wanted to keep him on, and I don’t blame him. As for Signal, he’s got the same backstory as all the other Robins Kent picked up, he just went the Signal route because he didn’t fit the usual Robin mold.”

“Because the female Robin fit the mold,” Tim snorted. Robin Mold, as if he and his brothers were even the same ethnicity. Or even had the same hair color. Jason dyes his hair, Dick’s is brown-black, Tim’s is pure black, and Damian’s is more a dark brown and it’s only getting lighter as he gets older.

“She didn’t, that’s the point. Kent tried to give breaking the Robin mold a chance by letting his cousin have a go at it, but he realized it just didn’t work so she went back to being Spoiler and he got a new Robin.”

Not touching that with a ten-foot pole. “Right, and where does he get the usual Robins? Please tell me you’re not back on the secret government orphanages theory.”

“No, no, no. Kent travels sometimes for his job, right? And a lot of the time he’s going to places that have been hit by disasters or major crimes. So he’ll take in some of the displaced children to train as his robins.”

Tim pressed his face back into his hands.

“You see it, right?”

Honestly, Tim was just wondering how his boyfriend could be so close, and yet so far off. “How would Kent even afford taking care of a bunch of secret -- possibly illegally acquired -- children without anyone noticing?”

“Simple. Bruce Wayne is funding him.”

“Bernard, I love you, but what the heck?” Tim blushed and looked up as he realized what he’d said, but Bernard didn’t seem to notice as he steamrolled ahead.

“It’d also explain how he can afford all the gear and how he’d be able to travel to Gotham or anywhere else Batman goes without anyone noticing. He probably has a secret Batplane or something.”

“Why would Bruce do that?”

“Because Wayne cares about Gotham, everyone knows that, and this way he can make sure someone’s taking care of the city without anyone putting two and two together.”

“And two plus two is?”

Bernard gave him a hard look. “I’m not stupid, Tim. Bruce Wayne is obviously Superman. His face is right there.”

Oh, the others are going to love this! Too bad I can’t tell Damian or Jason. Jason especially would have loved this. “Right. Bruce is Superman.”

“He is. Superman is known for being nice and Bruce Wayne’s basically all that’s keeping the city running at this point. That’s nice as hell.”

Oh my god.

“And Wayne does charity for the victims of cataclysms, doesn't he? I bet he first saves people from them as Superman and then builds them new homes for free.”

Oh my god! Why am I not recording this!?

“And the Wayne’s were rich enough to hide the fact they adopted an alien baby.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “If you’re about to tell me this is why Bruce’s parents got killed, you might want to stop while you’re ahead.”

“It’d make sense. There’re all sorts of unanswered questions about their deaths,” Bernard muttered under his breath, flipping through the folder. He pulled out another picture of Kara. This time she was in full Supergirl attire with a bus held overhead. “So if Wayne is Superman, then that’d mean your ex-girlfriend could be Supergirl. They look a lot alike and it’d explain how she got involved with you all.”

“Bernard, she has a human dad. You know, Cluemaster. The supervillain.”

“Yeah, her dad. But we don’t know anything about her mom!”

“Let me guess…”

Bernard pulled out a picture of Karen. She and Helena were suited up and talking to a group of cops, two goons held over each of Karen’s shoulders. “Her mom could be Power Girl! Some makeup and a wig and she could look just like Crystal Brown! And Damian Wayne is obviously the new Superboy! That’s why his background is such a mystery, right? He had to stay a secret until he could control his alien superpowers. That’s why he’s always so mean. It’s a cover since everyone knows Superboy is super sweet!”

Sure, when he’s not helping Damian pull pranks or using his adorable powers to put the blame on Kon and I. “No, Bernard. Damian and Steph are just very human hellspawn. And Bruce and Crystal are human too. I can’t believe you called me over here just to tell me you think Superman is both Batman’s sugar daddy and my adoptive dad.”

“Well, that’s not exactly why I called you over,” Bernard admitted, the nervous energy coming back. He grabbed Tim’s hands. “Tim -”

Tim’s stomach sank. “You are breaking up with me!”

“What? No! I don’t want to break up!”

“Why are you acting all nervous and serious then!?” Tim asked, pulling his hands away to throw them up in the air.

Bernard shook the folder. “Because I’m trying to tell you I figured out you’re Superboy!”

Tim’s brain blue-screened and his hands slowly dropped. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I know you’re Superboy. The older one, obviously. By the way, you and Damian really need to figure out separate names.”

Forget Jason and Damian, Kon can never find out about this. He’d never let me live it down. “Bernard, you called me a twink five minutes ago. Su-” Shoot, I can not risk getting Kon’s attention! “The older one might not be as big as Superman, but he’s not a twink.”

“Well, yeah, that’s the shapeshifting at work.”

“The what?”

“Obviously you Kryptonians can shapeshift. Why else would you look so much like humans?”

… Why do Kryptonians look so much like humans? Was there some - Wait, no! Break into the Fortress of Solitude for research later! Reassure your boyfriend that you’re not an alien now! “Bernard -”

“And that explains why your step-mom was so hot.”

“Gross.”

“She and your dad were actors hired by Luthor so you could have a normal life! But now Bruce has custody so he adopted you.”

“No.”

“That’s why you and your dad were so weird with each other when I met him.”

“We were weird because he’d just gotten out of a coma not long before to find that his wife was dead so he decided to actually be a dad for once in his life, but overcompensated and became a helicopter parent to a kid who was mostly on his own for his entire life!” Tim blurted out. “I am not an alien, Bernard!”

“Well, not technically since you were cloned from Superman on Earth.”

“Oh my god! You were just talking about Steph being Supergirl! Why would I date my dad’s cousin?”

Bernard blinked. “Supergirl and Superman are cousins?”

Right, Timothy Drake-Wayne wasn’t supposed to know that. “I thought they’d said something like that before, yeah. Are people seriously saying I’m Superboy on the internet?”

“NO! No, I swear I would have led with that if I thought your identity was compromised. A few people have mentioned Wayne and Damian, but not you or Steph or Jason.”

“Wh-Jason!? You think Jason was an alien too!”

“No, not exactly, but a few times when I’ve visited I swear I’ve seen a guy in the manor who looks like Jason. It’s just been out of the corner of my eye and he’s gone whenever I look so I’ve always thought it was just Dick or Bruce or some picture of Jason that my mind was playing tricks with, but it makes sense now that I know Wayne is Superman. He must have been able to heal Jason with alien tech, but couldn’t say anything because that would give away that he’s Superman.”

Damn it Jason! And damn it Bernard! I’m dating the smartest moron in the world! “Bruce did not bring Jason back with alien technology and none of us are aliens!”

“It’s okay, Tim. I won’t tell anyone.”

Tim grabbed Bernard by the jacket and pulled him into a kiss. When he started to feel lightheaded, he pulled back, “Could someone whose skin is as solid as stone kiss like that?”

Bernard blinked dazedly at him for a moment. “How do you know what Superboy’s skin feels like?”

Tim screamed internally. “He’s saved me from a kidnapping before.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I can get you the police report if you want.”

“Huh… And the others?”

“Not Supers. I can stab Damian the next time we’re at the manor if that’ll prove none of us are aliens.” He’d rather stab Jason, but that would probably only confirm to Bernard that Bruce used alien technology to bring him back.

“You probably shouldn’t stab your brother if he isn’t an alien.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “I won’t stab him anywhere deadly.”

“That’s not the point,” Bernard said slowly.

“He’ll be fine.”

“If you say so.”

“So do you believe I’m not an alien now?” Tim huffed, letting go of Bernard’s jacket.

The blond’s eyes dipped down to Tim’s lips. “If I say no, will you kiss me like that again?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Tim said, but he kissed him anyway.

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

“Okay, but I still say Clark Kent is definitely Batman.”

“Sure, Bernard.”

#Tim Drake #robin #red robin #bernard dowd #timber #fanfiction

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tippytopdays · 3 years

Text

Tenacity

This ended up being a lot longer than intended but it's done enough for me to be satisfied with it.

Consider it a sequel to Weak

Combat was never something to be weak in. Be it blunt force weapons or ballistics, everyone knew something. Whole groups were skilled in things that could make a normal man’s head spin.

And then there was you. And you knew nothing.

You’d been born into this world with only your hands and basic know how for survival. There was no chance if you ran straight into combat with the nothing you had. Even if you did the only object even close to a weapon was the shovel you kept with you.

The handle had snapped like a twig, leaving you with the nothing you had come into this with.

There was no way to tell when they’d come. No warnings, no signs; only an oppressive presence that forced every Bandit into hiding and slaughtered every Zed.

The Agency was efficient after all. And you were no different.

Why they were here didn’t matter, only that they were. Like a plague set upon an unsuspecting town doomed for destruction. The hideaway you’d made out of the abandoned factory had fallen within hours of their appearance; an effort for supplies or scavenging you’d assumed. And once they’d found your nest of stolen goods and ratty furniture you’d bolted, nothing to your name except the shovel you’d snagged on the way out.

Clearly, that hadn’t mattered in the slightest.

The gunfire still hadn’t stopped. They were still coming.

You’d hidden in the only place you’d hoped they wouldn’t dare invade, their own abandoned facility. It was far more run down than the factory; machinery that once calculated to the extremes shattered to bits on the floors, testing chambers long silenced, and labs in ruins so decrepit nothing could even begin to repair them.

And the bodies half disintegrated with rot strewn about gave you little solace, as their stench permeated the entire facility.

A door activated from down the hallway, sliding open with a hiss.

They would find you, hidden behind a cluster of desks in some lab far away from the entry. It had been Hell to get back here and you had no doubt it would be equally Hellish to get out. The only open doors had been either blasted or left open by whoever had stormed this place before you.

One of them being at the end of the hallway, now left occupied by whoever had just come in.

Heavy footsteps tromped the corridor. You held your breath, mouth covered with your hands.

Another door was opened, somewhere opposite to yours. And still they came; one after another each room was searched, like a countdown to the inevitable.

A dark shadow loomed from the hallway, stretching through the long broken in door and over the desk you hid behind. Plastered against the wall as an omen of death.

There was no way out now.

Whoever it was stepped into the room. It was strange, you’d briefly noticed over the pounding of your heart, there was no swarm of steps behind the first. He was alone.

Why? Where were the others?

Footsteps thundered in the mostly empty lab. Containers that possibly once held important testing fluids and had long been smashed onto the ground crunched underfoot as the Agent wandered from one side to the other. Clattering came from one end of the room, opposite of your hiding space, furniture being disturbed in his curiosity. Briefly you’d peeked around the very edge of the desk; you could barely catch a glimpse of the him, let alone decipher what he was doing, but the barrel of what was definitely a very large weapon strapped across his back deterred you from any further investigation.

It was so strange, this was far too deeply wedged into the building for it to be mere coincidence. Was there something they’d left here? Something in this old, musty lab that you’d just so happened to take refuge in? A weapon? A lost experiment?

Loud clunking echoed in the mostly empty room as something large was righted. Something shifted, something moved. It was always something, none of it you could decipher. Only that it was there.

And it was getting closer.

It was only now, in this lieu of clattering and banging just out of your peripherals that you noticed this was the only sound you could hear. No shouting, no explosions. Only the footsteps traversing this room, and the commotion he was making.

Why, of all times, had the gunfire stopped the moment this Agent had entered the room?

There was no time for ruminating. At best you had mere seconds before you were discovered, an uncomfortably loud shattering of glass from just a handful of feet away nearly jumping you out prematurely.

But where would you go? Where would you hide now when the only safety had already been compromised?

A shuffle, a twitch of a limb that you weren’t paying enough attention to—exactly how didn’t even cross your mind as the desk shifted just so, dislodging a precariously set lamp. It tumbled to the hard floor, shattering to pieces.

All noise stopped. Your breathing followed.

If you weren’t screwed by coming here, you were now.

Whatever was in his hands clattered to the floor, forgotten entirely as stomping footsteps approached at a rapid pace. You didn’t have time to scramble away, to hide again before he was upon you, the desk squealing as he yanked it from your back.

Cold, angry red glared down from very familiar goggles, and fear turned to horror.

Hank. He had come back.

How was he even alive in the first place? Hadn’t he died in your arms?

The mere reality of his presence before you was as horrifying as it was clarifying. Hank still being alive was a very good implication of why the noises from the rest of the building had come to a halt. May have even been the cause for them even, since you didn’t recall any resistance forces in this ghost town.

Funny how adrenaline clouds memories when one’s wrapped tightly in terror.

You’d scrambled away, far enough that the piping on the wall behind the desk dug into your side. He watched, still and silent as death while the flickering glare of the hallway light obscured his eyes behind the lenses of his goggles.

Why had he come back? For you? To finish what he’d started? To burst your skull like he had intended upon your first meeting?

The silence was deafening, not even the whisper of cloth as he stood from hunching over your hiding place. Still staring at you he stepped around the overturned furniture, uncaring of the crunch of the lamp beneath his boot. A bright flash across the barrel of the heavy machine gun strapped around his back was enough to have you flinching away, arms raised.

Years of running, hiding in the dark, over in just seconds. You could flee the Agency and scurry out of sight of the Bandits all you needed, but here it was hopeless.

When he crouched down to your height you covered your eyes, cowering.

Nothing escaped Hank. Not even you.

All cognitive thought stopped as something very large plopped onto your head.

Your eyes snapped open behind your hands. The weight shifted, fingers of a hand—a very large hand—entangling into your hair.

Was he going to crush you with his bare hands? To throw you like you weighed nothing and toss you to your death?

The grip shifted, pushing your head back. Your hands fell away from your face and into your lap, shaking as he manhandled you.

He was just staring at you, an arm reached out to hold you by the head. The light from the hall was muted behind his utterly massive frame, barely any reaching around the width of his shoulders just to kiss the edges of the goggles. A foul stench of blood wafted into your face as he breathed, a drop splattering against your leg in his leaning over you.

He was monstrous. He was dangerous. Every nerve in your body was firing double and you knew if you were to run, he would catch you.

He was stroking your face.

In your haze of panic the hold on your hair faded, his touch trailing down. It wasn’t gentle, the harsh scrape of his nails down your temple causing a twitch to jerk in your neck as his fingers traced baselessly across your cheek. It was senseless patterns, no real thought behind it as it flickered to and fro over your skin.

As he brushed across the bridge of your nose, you followed it across the mask on his own face.

It was the same motions you had given him in his final moments.

You paused abruptly. The fear, the terror, all of the adrenaline in your body seemed to just flush away at the realization and you just stared, agape.

He remembered. Somehow that was more surprising to you than the fact he’d miraculously risen from the dead, and even more baffling than his touch tracing your face.

Had he come back for you because of what you’d done for him?

Just as suddenly as he’d started he stopped. The hand pulled away from your face, brushing over your neck to grab you by the collar.

You noted briefly that, while it was harsh, there was no energy to throw behind it. Not even malice in his movements as you were yanked forward into his arms and hauled over his shoulder.

And as he stomped back out of the room, carting you down the hall and into the moderately fresher air outdoors, you noted that he had taken precaution to not throw you over the shoulder that the gun’s barrel was propped against.

Your eyes flickered to the trigger.

There was no magazine. It was empty.

_____________________________________________________________

The door to the building opened with a hiss. He’d barely given enough of a glance towards the cameras to know who it was, “Alright Hank, what did you think was so damn important that you got me up at midnight-“ Mid fiddling with his data pad the man’s ranting came to an abrupt halt, red lenses focusing onto the body tossed unceremoniously over the assassin’s shoulder. Slowly, he raised a hand to pinch the apex of the mask on his face.

“Wimbleton did you seriously just bring in a stray?”

“Shut the Hell up Doc.”

#madness combat #madness combat x reader #hank j. wimbleton #hank j. wimbleton x reader #2BDamned #mentioned at least #fun #my writing

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fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

Hi! I love your writing! I live for every notification that you've posted something new.

I really like your fics where Coops are being fluffy and adorable, and the team finds them and are all adorable about it, like the Sirius cuddle one. I think that's my favorite.

Would you write Coops skating together before/after practice, and the team finding them and quietly going mushy watching?

I love those moments, too! This was an interesting (and difficult) fic for me to write, since I've never written Cole before, but I'm so looking forward to him in Vaincre. The song playing at the rink is 'American Gods' by ONR. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

Cole frowned. Upon Katie Dumais’ request, he had listened to “Hoedown Throwdown” enough times in the past two weeks to know the rhythm in his sleep, and that third beat just wasn’t lining up. He paused his attempt at working through the mess of his stall and straightened up, removing one earbud—sure enough, different music drifted from outside the locker room.

Someone else was at the rink.

He scanned the locker room, but saw no gear other than his own; two voices burst into faint laughter. Not the janitor, then. “Hello?” he called cautiously. It wasn’t against the rules for him to be at practice early, but maybe it was frowned upon by the others. Oh god, what if he became known as ‘the early guy’? The last ‘early guy’ he knew had become a suckup Coach’s pet, and everyone hated him for it.

There was a clatter, then more of the voices. Cole took his earbuds out and crept into the hall, wincing with each squeak of his sneakers.

Dumo’s at home, so it’s not the kids…Cole bit his lip as he tiptoed around the corner to the rink. “Oh, shit!” someone yelped before dissolving into laughter. He spotted two duffel bags on the bench, still full of gear, before a blur of movement flashed past and he had to duck behind the wall again to stay out of sight.

“Did you just trip over yourself?” Remus shouted across the ice from the other end with a wide grin. Cole craned his neck in time to see the captain nod, red-faced. “The great Sirius Black, everyone. Bravo, sir!”

Sirius skated over and checked him lightly—neither of them were wearing their pads, just skates and regular clothes. It was an odd sight. Cole felt a little like his two worlds were colliding. Off the ice, Remus and Sirius were kind (if a bit intimidating), and close with the team in a way he desperately wished for himself. On the ice, Cap and Loops were a wicked one-two punch that he idolized. They were careful with their words, and closed-off whenever media was around.

But out there, in their street clothes with well-loved sticks and a scattered collection of pucks, they looked so very different than the people Cole thought he knew.

A new song came on and Remus started doing the Sprinkler; Sirius had to sit down for a moment to catch his breath from laughing so hard, only to be dragged back to his feet and pulled along as Remus skated backwards. “If I have to get up, you have to sing for me,” he said with a groan, though his fond smile was visible from twenty feet away.

“Tell me all of my secrets, tell me all of my lies,” Remus sang, then paused. “And something, something, something…oh, American gods.”

Sirius shook his head. “Hopeless. Isn’t this your playlist?”

“I only added it for the drumbeat!” Remus protested, spinning him in a slow circle. “What, do you want to change it?”

“No, I want to watch you try to remember the lyrics while I push you over.”

“Wh—” Remus cut off with a squawk when Sirius let go of his hand mind-twirl, nearly sending him to the ice. “Son of a bitch!”

“Yes?” Sirius bit his lip and made a dash for the other end of the rink as Remus raced after him; Cole would never understand how someone so compact could build up that much speed in mere seconds. They chased each other in loops and swirls around the fresh ice, their voices echoing off the empty bleachers that didn’t hold a single fan or camera.

Realization trickled in like summer rain and he rested his shoulder against the wall. If he didn’t know them, Cole would have thought they were just some random couple, instead of two of the most famous modern athletes. He wasn’t watching Cap and Loops warming up for practice—he was watching Sirius and Remus screwing around in their free time, on the equivalent of a date.

Remus tried to dip sideways—a move that had helped him evade countless opponents, though Cole could never figure out—but Sirius caught him around the waist at the last second and lifted him off the ice. “Dirty play!” Remus called, sticking two fingers in his mouth to whistle. “Ten minutes in the box.”

“Ten minutes?” Sirius laughed. “I don’t think there’s an official penalty for picking other players up.”

“You wounded me.”

“Wimp.”

“My emotional state is in tatters,” Remus insisted as he kicked his legs halfheartedly. “I’ll never recover from this.”

“Are you sure?” Sirius set him down and turned him around, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“I feel short when you do that.”

“I hate to break it to you, but you are short.”

“Tremzy is short. I’m above the national average for men’s height by four full inches.”

“Shortie.” Sirius caught his hands and pulled, skating backward across the ice as the next chorus began. “Show my life in a mirror, through the opposite side—”

“Singing won’t get you out of this.”

“—and we kill for that moment, when we long to take flight—”

“How do you even know this song?”

“Because I actually remember lyrics when I listen to music,” he teased, turning them in a wobbly circle.

Remus leaned back, using his momentum to slide closer until they bumped chests. “Poet.”

Cole forgot that they were people, sometimes. Just people, enjoying some well-deserved time out of the spotlight.

“Cute, aren’t they?”

Cole jolted and clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle his yelp of surprise.

James shot him an amused look. “They do this before every afternoon practice.”

“Really?”

“Mhmm.”

“It’s so…normal.” He knew his bafflement shone through every word, but Pots seemed unbothered. Ahead of them, Sirius was lip-syncing to an old Paramore song as Remus tried to skate around him to get to the goal.

Pots raised an eyebrow. “What were you expecting?”

Cole made a vague gesture. “I dunno, actual practice? Running drills? The captain face?”

“The what?” James laughed quietly.

“The captain face.” He felt heat rise to his cheeks. “The one where it looks like you’re about to get reamed out by Cap at any given moment. It’s terrifying.”

“Reyes, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but that’s just his resting face.” Pots clapped him on the shoulder. “He’s the definition of RBF.”

Cole blinked at him. “This whole time, I thought he was gonna kill me if I slipped up.”

“Yup.”

“I’ve been afraid of him for two months and that’s just his face?”

“You get used to it.” He turned Cole back toward the ice, where Sirius’ smile was brighter than every fluorescent light in the building. “But he only looks like that around Loops.”

They stumbled a little going through an awkward attempt at a waltz, but they recovered at the last second, and Remus pulled him in for a light kiss. Cole felt his blush creep to his ears. “Should we go?”

Pots shrugged one shoulder. “They won’t notice either way.”

“This isn’t…creepy? They’re basically on a date.”

“They’re at the rink, remember?” A gleam entered his eye behind his glasses. “That means we get to chirp them for PDA in the workplace.”

Cole paused for a second and looked back, where Remus was playing keepaway with Sirius’ beanie. They darted around each other, practically flying over the ice—their footwork looked as natural as if they were born doing it. “It must be hard for them.”

“What?”

“Finding time to do this.” He glanced at James. “Everyone is expecting them to be one way all the time. I expected them to be one way all the time.”

James’ face softened and he draped an arm over Cole’s shoulders, leading him back down the hallway. “That’s what we’re here for. The best thing about this team isn’t our cohesion on the ice, or the Cup we won, or any of that. It’s that we’re friends, on and off the ice. As long as you remember that, you’ll never have to fit yourself in one specific box.”

Cole blinked at him. In two months of mentorship, he had never thought of James Potter as wise. “I swear you’re the same person that put shaving cream in everyone’s skates and blamed Harzy for it.”

James barked a laugh and ruffled his hair. “No boxes, Reyes. No boxes.”

#cole reyes #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #coops #vaincre #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #skating #rookie

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pascalpanic · 3 years

Text

Fixer Upper PART ONE (Frankie Morales x f!Reader)

Summary: Nothing seems to go right in your new house. When yet another thing breaks, a certain handyman comes to your rescue.

W/C: 2k ish

Warnings: language, joking mentions of a house being cursed (it isn’t), reader has dirty thoughts bc it’s Frankie and he’s hot

A/N: this one goes out to my anons who’ve been sending me stuff about frankie as a repairman! I loved the idea and I thought it would be super fun to write! This will be part ONE of three-ish! ps idk if any references to reader’s gender are in this part but there certainly will be some in the future so.

It’s been a while that you’ve lived in this house. Since that day you hauled in the cardboard boxes, you’ve been feeling that your life is the epitome of Murphy’s law. Or rather, this damned house is.

Nothing ever goes right. The heat breaks in the winter and the air conditioning breaks in the summer. The plumbing needs work when you need it to work, and the oven only ever breaks halfway through cooking something. Seriously, you swear this place is cursed by some hex determined to pester you out of living here.

You’ve never exactly been the handy type. You don’t know much about mechanics, heating or cooling, the electricity and wiring in your house, any of it. By now, you wish you’d taken the time to learn it at some point rather than hiring someone every time.

The first sign was that the June heat seemed inescapable. You’d been outside all day, and you figured it was just your body taking its time to adjust to the cooler, indoor temperature. Then you never cooled down. When you stepped out of the bathroom after a shower and found the air to be nearly as muggy as that of the steamed bathroom, you realized that the air conditioning must be off.

Well, it was on. The problem was that it wasn’t working. You opened all the windows, and figured the night breeze would cool you, then you became worried about serial killers and crimes and promptly shut and locked all of them again. With the fan in your bedroom on, the air at least moved, but was still thick and heavy.

In the morning, when you wake with no blankets on and sweaty sheets, you dial the repair company as fast as you can. You inform them of the situation, and they tell you they’ll send someone out your way in the next hour or two.

The air is still somewhat cool outside, so you give the front porch a shot once you get changed out of your pajamas and take yet another cool shower. The heavy dew is an indicator of just how humid the air is, and you relish every little breeze that passes by and cools you down. You conduct your morning business outside, hoping to have this problem fixed before the sun reaches a height where the temperatures will rise exponentially.

About an hour after the call, the repair van rolls up into your driveway and parks. “Thank God,” you murmur to yourself.

Your focus returns to your computer, but you hear the door slam shut and look up to find the repairman there. He wears khaki cargo pants and a gray t-shirt, complete with a ball cap on top, with dark brown curls peeking out from the bottom. He fastens his tool belt around his waist as he walks up to the porch. “Hey there. I’m Frankie. I’ll be taking care of you today,” he informs you, a kind smile on his face. You already like him. “I got the basics from the boss, but can you tell me more about the problem?”

Looking up at him from the seated position you’re in, you give an awkward smile. Suddenly, you wish you’re better dressed, fixed up and looking nice. Even in work clothes, this man is beautiful. It makes you a little nervous, you in your pajamas and him looking like a god even in cargo pants. “I wish I could, but I don’t know anything about the air conditioner and how it works other than how to change the settings. All I know is that it isn’t working.”

He gives a good-natured chuckle, a soft bounce of his chest beneath the shirt. He looks down at his tool belt and his scruff brushes against the collar of the gray. “Well, let’s go give it a shot. I’ll need you to show me around, show me the control panel and the main system.” God, he’s handsome.

“Oh, of course,” you nod and stand, leaving your laptop on the small table. “Well, right this way. And please, you don’t need to take your boots off. Those look complicated,” you laugh as you look at the heavy tan boots at the bottom of his body.

Frankie nods and looks around as you lead him through the house. He doesn’t take his boots off, since you insisted, but he does give them a generous wipe on the doormat, careful not to track anything in. “It’s a beautiful place,” he tells you honestly, with a half-smile that just tugs at one of the corners of his ridiculously soft-looking lips.

“Thanks,” you shrug and show him to the control panel. “I try. Okay, here’s the button thingy.”

“The button thingy?” he teases, which leads to laughter from the both of you.

“If I knew what it was called, you wouldn’t be here,” you tease him back and shake your head.

Frankie uses the tools from his belt to take off the casing. You lean against the wall as he works, admiring the way his hands nimbly check the wires and paneling behind it. He holds a small flashlight between his teeth to look into the wall cavity.

“I can hold that for you,” you offer, and he moves his mouth for you to take it from him.

“Thanks,” he says, popping his jaw slightly to adjust from the awkward angle of holding it between his teeth. “You don’t have to. I’m just here to fix it.”

You point it at the same spot. “I might as well be some help, considering I don’t know shit about my own house.”

Frankie laughs at that, stealing a glance your way that makes your face warm before his gaze returns to the electrical situation. “Well,” he declares after a few seconds. “The wiring must not be the problem here. This all is working fine, so it must be with the actual system.”

“Great,” you groan. “The part I know even less about.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” he chuckles and screws the panel back into place on your wall, making sure everything works properly and he didn’t mess with any functions.

Leading Frankie to your basement, you show him the cluttered laundry room and the central air conditioning unit. He’s already analyzing the system, and you back off to let him work. He looks focused. “Holler if you need me,” you tell him as he gets on his knees to look at something, daring to gently pat his shoulder. It’s strong, muscular beneath your palm.

Heading back to the kitchen, you open the fridge and sigh. For a moment, you allow yourself to close your eyes and just enjoy the cold air it produces. Hopefully, your house will be the same soon enough. Grabbing two tall glasses, you fill each with ice before pouring half sweet tea and half lemonade into the glasses.

You stand in the kitchen with the freezer open, sighing at the cool air it provides. Not sure how long he’ll take, you scroll through your phone. It’s surprisingly quick, you find.

“Hey, I found it!” Frankie calls from the basement.

Carrying the two glasses, you return to the laundry room to find him reorganizing his tool belt. “Here,” you tell him with a smile as you hold out the drink. “Least I could do. It’s unbearable in here.”

“Thanks,” he smiles and lifts the glass to you in a miniature salute before taking a sip. Frankie then launches into a detailed explanation of the issue with the A/C unit, using all kinds of terms you don’t understand and mentioning parts you didn’t even know were included in the machine. “I got it all fixed up, though, and it shouldn’t take long before it’s working just as good as normal.”

You sigh in relief, swallowing the sweet drink and smiling at him. “God, thank you so much. You don’t even know how awful it was in here.”

“If it’s anything like right now, I do,” he chuckles. The man takes the hem of his t-shirt and lifts it to wipe his face, revealing a muscular but soft body beneath it, with a beautiful little trail of dark hair leading to beneath his belt. Is it terrible that your first thought is that you want to lick it?

You force the image from your mind with another swig of the drink. “Yeah, just about. Well, how much do I owe you?” You ask the man, leading him out of the laundry room and into the basement that’s already feeling cooler.

“Oh, nothing right now,” he shakes his head as you lead him upstairs and to the kitchen. “I just tweaked some things for you, didn’t need any parts or anything, so it’s just gonna be labor.” He seems to remember something. “Ah, shit. I gotta have you sign something. I’ll grab the paper from the van and be right back,” he tells you and leaves his drink on the counter, half-jogging outside.

While he’s outside, you lean against the cool kitchen counter and let yourself daydream. This Frankie guy certainly is attractive, and his personality is definitely something you’re interested in. What if the situation right now played out like a porno, and he fucked you on the countertop? You certainly wouldn’t complain. You noticed his hands and feet are large. Certainly he must be big somewhere else too. “Oh Jesus Christ,” you murmur to yourself. Why did my mind have to go there? And why is the thought so hot? He’s a sweet man too, clearly goofy and sweet. Why is your mind going there then? Really, upon further pondering, you just want to hug the man, admire his strong body pressed to yours in an intimate but innocent gesture.

“Sorry, what was that?” Frankie calls out as he walks into the house again.

His voice snaps you from your daydreaming. “Oh, just talking to myself,” you say quickly and cheerfully, taking the paper from him. The top is printed with repairman name: Francisco Morales. Francisco. That makes you smile. What a cute name. The rest is filled with the details of what he did to the machine to fix it, and you sign and date at the bottom. “Here you go, Francisco.”

His tanned skin turns a little pinker on the cheeks. “Great,” Frankie smiles and takes it back.

“Before you leave,” you tell him quickly, darting to grab your purse from the entryway, “here.”

Frankie walks to you and you hand him a generous cash tip, with a stupid smile stuck to your face. “Thank you, wow,” he says, voice honest in its surprise as he notices the total of the money.

“Of course. I really can’t thank you enough. God, it’s been painfully hot in here and I really just can’t stand the heat,” you ramble, your voice speeding up. “And… yeah. Thank you. For your company, too.”

“Just doing my job,” he tells you with a smile, putting his hands in his pockets. “Oh, here.”

From his pocket, he pulls a little rectangle of paper with his name and company on it. “The shop number is on here; if anything changes, just call and ask for Catfish.”

“Catfish?” You ask with a smile, puzzled.

“My old military nickname. It’s what the guys around there call me,” he shrugs, shy at the nickname.

It makes you laugh a little, and you tuck the card in your purse. “Well, Catfish, thank you. I’ll be sure to use this next time I have some stupid thing I can’t repair myself.”

“Please do,” he chuckles, a shy smile on his face. “I’ll see you around.”

“Thanks!” You call again and cringe. That’s, what, the ninth time you’ve said that now? He walks to the van and you give him a wave before retreating back inside. God, now you can’t wait for this shitty house to need another repair. You’ll certainly be asking for Catfish.

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