#[clutching my face] I need to figure out HOW!! I have no FASHION SENSE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hrts4hanniehae · 4 months

Text

clutch || three

there are written parts :)

note that the timeline or educations may not add up but just ignore it because i don't have the brain power to sync up THIRTEEN + 1 's education schedules

also!!!! the story begins in the christmas period of 2022!!!! IF THERE ARE YEAR ERRORS IM SO SORRY!!!! i legit can't change it omfg

okay if we were being very honest, e/n was an attractive guy. well-liked by everyone, especially yn's parents -- mother. he had a good office job, loved the idea of starting a family and was rather... old-fashioned in his thoughts.

e/n had asked her out 2 years prior. she agreed because she was desperate to please her mother. but it wasn't as if she didn't like him. she did. just... not as much as she would have preferred. he was all those good things, but he didn't let her be free. he always talked her down when she brought up her art or passions. but he made her parents happy. so she suppressed it.

when he cheated on her, she didn't feel any sadness. not much resentment either. but when he stole her apartment from her, she lost her shit.

"what do you mean i can't take my apartment back? MY NAME IS ON THE LEASE!!"

"i did not sign that! that's a forged signature! how many times do i have to tell you, i have no recollection of EVER signing my apartment off to him! god why won't you even investigate the signature!"

not only did she have to deal with this bastard's theft, but now she had to deal with him at work too.

"do you know where's the bathroom?" (random museum goer)

she kindly pointed her in the direction of the nearest bathroom.

"oh yn! I didn't know you worked here." - e/n

"hi e/n. what do you need. and where's your side chick." - yn

"she went to the bathroom. i wanted to see you." - e/n

"when the fuck are you going to leave me alone? you already stole my house. what else do you want?" - yn

"yn, you're being ridiculous. just come back to me. i'll ditch her for you. i just wanted to try someone new. you're not exactly a... fun partner you know? fun in that way." - e/n

"leave me alone. i already have a new apartment. just please. i don't fucking like you anymore. just leave me alone. stop harassing me, okay? your idiotic excuses and reasonings don't make ANY sense at all. just go." - yn

"so why haven't you told your mom about our breakup? hm? do you really not like me anymore?" - e/n

"i've told you time and time again. i don't talk to my mother. at all. if you care so much, just tell her yourself. why we broke up. hm? or do you want me to get byeongho to tell her. because I will. i'm not telling her because i'm trying to help you save face. if i tell her, your father will know. and he will not be happy. i'm trying to do one nice thing for you despite you fucking another girl in OUR BED." - yn

and just like a saviour, minghao was running up to her.

"yn, your boss told me to look for you about managing my exhibit. oh. hi e/n. get lost, thanks." - minghao

"mind your own business, [redacted slur]" - e/n

security kicks him out.

"thanks, hao. my day has been ruined because of him." - yn

"i'll buy you lunch? i don't think you've had lunch yet." - minghao

"thanks but i'm good. i don't usually have lunch anyways. i'm going to head home. my shift is over." - yn

"did wonwoo tell you our friend was staying over at your place today?" - minghao

"huh. who? he didn't tell me." - yn

i guess he forgot - minghao

"lee chan, or dino. the soloist. so don't be too shocked if you see him walking around." - minghao

"right. i'll see you tomorrow for lunch, minghao. go hang out with jun." - yn

"he's filming a movie right now. how am i supposed to go see him?" - minghao

"figure it out!" - yn

she forgot about dino and walked into the bathroom not knowing he would be there. luckily, he was half-clothed.

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

synopsis: wonwoo is a popular streamer known for his incredible gaming skills and good looks. He turned heads. but he hates the attention. he just wants to play games and earn money. one day he receives a letter. his apartment’s rent has almost doubled. no warnings at all. his current paycheck from streaming can’t shoulder those bills. he has no choice but to rent out his spare room. to who? a fresh art university graduate who has… 1. a stable job ✅ 2. talent for art and sculpting ✅ 3. many friends ❌ 4. social anxiety ✅ 5. no filter ✅ when his iconic cat logo gets copystriked, she comes to the rescue with a new logo for him. when his apartment’s walls start peeling, she fixes it. whatever he used to struggle with… the empty space... was now filled by her. so what does he *last player standing* do when her ex *enemy spotted* tries to take her back? heh. *clutch* he clutches.

inspired by wonwoo's gam3bo1 streams, falling into your smile & gogo squid (has hints of valorant)

pairing: streamer!jeon wonwoo x fem!artist!reader (ft. jeongcheol, soonhoon, junhao, seoksoo, verkwan)

genre: fluff, comfort, slowburn, comfort, pining, bestfriend!minghao

warnings: stalker ex, toxic ex, mentions of abuse, guns (game), cursing, hate comments, panic attacks

started: 28.12.23

ended: ?

taglist: join from my masterlist

main masterlist

smau socials

previous I next

tags! @fairyofhour @megseungmin @sun-daddy-yoriichi @woozixo @euphoric-univers @christinewithluv @haowonbins @ocyeanicc @asyre @cynthiaaax13 @superhoshisvt @bangantokchy @chimmy-bts @angelarin @daisawa @writingbarnes @jeonghansshitester

@belladaises @wonwootakemyheart @wonwooz1 @luchiet @kookssecret @caratsland @peachescreamandcrumble @thepoopdokyeomtouched @isabellah29 @leah-rose03 @yandere-stories @coupshour @heesbees

63 notes · View notes

kirakiwiwrites · 9 months

Text

Hi friends! So it’s been a minute lol. Why? A whole slew of reasons like migraines, a new job, traveling, carpal tunnel, and good old fashioned writer’s block. Are we still working on a one shot for Obsidian Castle and another new multi chapter story? Yes. Three actually. We will be posting new stuff soon. Thanks so much for all the love from Obsidian Castle too. So happy everyone has enjoyed it!

Anyway, we thought to get out of the little rut, we would participate in the @klaine-word-scramble. It looks like so much fun and if you haven’t checked it out you should! So here is our first one, just a very short one shot full of cute fluff. The theme for most of these will probably be future fics like this one. We will also post these to FF.net and A03

Thank you to all who organized it and come up with all the fun scrambles!

Disclaimer: We do not own Glee, the characters, or quotations from the show.

(Aug 1 scramble - 979 words)

Craft day:

“Do we need more glue?”

Blaine scratched at his head before grimacing as he realized his hands were covered in glue. now his hair was also covered in glue. The stuff was everywhere. “No, I don’t think that’s it.” He scanned the directions while he wiped at his head. “If we add more glue, things could get worse.”

His eight year old son Michael huffed a sigh and poked at the goopy substance in the bowl. “What about more glitter?”

Blaine shook his head slowly as he tried to make sense of the mess they had made. “Oh god no. No more glitter.”

It looked as though a glitter bomb had exploded in their kitchen. There was glitter on everything: the floor, the cabinets, them. Glitter had even somehow ascended to the top of the fridge and landed amongst the mousetraps they stored up there. It was quite a mess.

Michael blew the dark curls he inherited from his father out of his eyes and glitter puffed out and slowly and floated down. “Did we put enough activator in?” He spread his fingers and purple glittery glue gunk made strings across them. “I don’t think it’s supposed to be so sticky.”

Blaine made a noise of agreement before he realized two of the pages were stuck together. Carefully, he peeled them apart and saw they had missed a step.

“Okay, kiddo. I figured it out. Grab that spatula and stir until you think your arms are gonna fall off.”

Michael did as his father told him and stirred, the tip of his tongue peeking out from the corner of his mouth. “What do I do if my arms do fall off?”

“Use some of the glue and stick them back on. I’m going to clean up a bit before—“

“What did you two do to my kitchen!” Kurt exclaimed as he clutched his face in horror. He stood in the doorway, his keys and a brown paper bag in one hand. “Did you blow up a disco ball?”

Blaine winced. “Oh, hey honey.” He gave his husband his most charming smile. He cleaned faster. “You’re home early!”

A little giggle came from their six year old daughter who had spent the morning with Kurt. Her bright blue eyes sparkled as she took in the mess. “Mikey looks like the shiny troll from that movie!” She set down a matching brown paper bag and skipped over to the counter where her brother was stirring vigorously. “I want to do it too!”

Kurt set his bag down quickly beside his daughter’s and gingerly picked his way through the disaster zone. “Tracy! Wait! At least change your clothes first!” He sighed and accepted a kiss on the cheek from his husband. She was already elbow deep in the concoction and chuckling maniacally.

“Don’t worry, Kurt,” Blaine said brightly. “I’m going to have all this cleaned up before dinner. How did it go making candles?”

Kurt leaned tiredly on the counter, then remembered it was covered in slime and stood upright. “We actually had fun until Tracy decided things were too calm. She decided she didn’t want a normal cat shaped candle, but she wanted a headless cat shaped candle that would bleed when she burned it.”

“Jesus Christ,” Blaine mumbled as he picked out some sparkley glue from his arm hair. “Has she been watching Wednesday again?”

Kurt rolled his eyes and grabbed a dish towel. After wetting it, he began to carefully wipe the glue off of Blaine’s arm. “I don’t know but I’m having a hell of a time encouraging her to express her creativity while also not making the other children around her cry.”

Blaine thanked him for the glue and eyed the room with another grimace. “It’s a precarious dance for sure. You do a wonderful job.”

Kurt smiled and kissed him just as their children screamed in triumph.

“Dad! Papa! Look! We made slime!” Michael held up a blob of purple goo studded with glitter.

“Can I eat it?” Tracy asked as she squeezed some through her fingers.

“No!” Blaine yelled in alarm at the same time Kurt yelled, “Absolutely not! Don’t you dare put that in your mouth!”

Tracy glared at them for ruining her fun, but then got distracted by the shiny slime. Michael gave her a very brotherly look that said he considered her only a step above an animal.

“Why are you so weird?”

“Am not! You’re weird!”

“You’re the one trying to eat slime!”

“I just asked! I wasn’t gonna do it!”

Kurt took a deep breath and released it as Blaine continued to clean the kitchen. “Kids! Enough!” Kurt interjected, hands on his hips. “Mikey, don’t call your sister weird. Tracy, don’t ever eat anything unless you know it’s food. I will not have fighting on craft day!”

Blaine nodded solemnly in silent support as he scrubbed at a dried pile of goop. He accidentally upset a pile of glitter that puffed out in a cloud and caused him to sneeze.

Michael shrugged and continued to stretch the slime out and whirl it like a jump rope between his hands. Tracy stared down at the small bit in her hand. “I wasn’t gonna eat it,” she grumbled.

Kurt pinched the bridge of his nose in an effort to stay calm. “Alright. Help me and Papa clean up the kitchen and we will all go out for pizza. Deal?”

This was met with cheers of agreement from the two children who took wet paper towels offered to them by Kurt and set to work wiping up glitter. Kurt smiled at how determined they were and grabbed the broom and dustpan.

“Thank you,” Blaine said with a grateful smile.

“You’re welcome,” Kurt replied as he started sweeping. “But buckle up because next craft day is painting and Tracy had me take her by the cemetery for ‘inspiration’.”

“Of course she did. But it’s fine because in the Hummel-Anderson house, we support weird.”

“Absolutely.”

*words used from the scramble:

Candles (pretty sure this is the unscrambled word but shhh don’t tell lol)

scan (scanned)

land (landed)

ascend (ascended)

clean

dances (dance)

deal

#klaine-word-scramble #glee #klaine #klaine fanfiction #fanfic #kirakiwi #oneshot #noideawhywenamedtheirsonmichael #itseemedtofit #future!klaine #blaine anderson #kurt hummel

20 notes · View notes

monsterfloofs · 1 year

Text

(A lot of life things have been happening lately that has left my mind in a dizzying spiral. So here is a soft short piece mainly focusing on Luxe, just before the main protagonist shows up. ^-^ )

Bubbles in the glossy sheen of transparent rainbows froth and roll in gentle sweeping mountains. A few free floating spheres shimmering daintily in midair. A dusty purple clawed hand reaching up to gently balance one on the tip of their finger.

Luxe stares at the glassy sphere of prismatic colors, bringing their hand to their lips to softly blow on the fragile sliver of soap.

They watch it bob up back into the air, giving a little twirl before it pops out of existence. They lean back into the froth and frown to themselves. Their spaded tail curling back and forth on the floor underneath the clawed feet of the bath.

They snap their fingers, and with a shuddering shuffle, the white wallpaper and plain objects in the room change color to a pale baby blue.

They survey the room and scowl, throwing their head back on the head rest of the bath. Tail flicking with sudden agitation.

“No. . . not even redecorating will make me feel better.” They shift, letting their body sink deeper into the water, as their face becomes wreathed by silky bubbles.

“Tragedy. . . A human is to be influtrating our walls within only a few hours time. . . I need to figure out how to get rid of them, before chaos ensues.”

“S-surely you aren’t serious,” Eyes closed, a previous conversation and image fills the concubus’ mind.

“Of course I am,” A cool voice intones, a soft chuckle on the very edges, “In fact, I think this shall be very good for all of us.”

Luxe had smoothed out their expression, taking a polite bow. “. . . Very well then, my liege,” They glance up at the large lounging figure. “Then. . . shall you allow me to test them? And make sure their intentions are true?”

The jingle of beaded jewelry sounded with a shake of the head. A clear no.

“I’m afraid that would scare this particular one away. We must try our best to make them comfortable.”

Turquoise eyes flutter open, staring at the ceiling with gentle floating bubbles.

“Scare them away. . .” Luxe murmurs softly, “That wasn’t what I had in mind to be honest. . . I was thinking more on the idea of putting them into an unending bind of pleasure. . . surely that would keep them busy enough that they wouldn’t cause any disturbances. Perhaps ruin a few sheets but. . . At least they would be distracted.”

Luxe pouts as they think about it more, “Well, I thought it was a good idea.” They blink, eyes shifting to a little bell that sits beside the tub on an elegant side table. The crystalline gently begins to tremble, then slowly raises up from the table, pulled up by an invisible sting. the bell swinging back and forth with a dainty tinkle.

“The show goes on I suppose.” They slowly rise out of the water, pulling a lilac towel to them and stepping down onto a fluffy rug.

With a snap of their fingers their hair is dried and they shrug on their uniform. Giving one longing look back at the bubble bath that is now left abandoned and draining.

Waiting at the entrance to introduce the resident and give them a tour of the castle. They squint and open up a pocket watch, “. . . Fashionably late are we. . .” They murmur to themselves under their breath.

“I’m sorry!” A breathy voice makes the concubus look up from their watch, taken aback at the figure that is quick to run and join them. Huffing in big gulps of air.

“I was— I had— Wanted to— First impression!”

Luxe scrunches their nose and tilts their head, trying to make sense of what had just been said. “I. . . Beg your pardon?”

The figure hangs their head and thrusts out their hands, a basket clutched tightly in their hands.

“I wanted to bring a gift! I wasn’t sure what to get— So—”

“Just breath dear, rest a moment,”

“Th-Thanks-”

The concubus takes the basket as the figure puts a hand to their heart, and breathes deeply.

“Okay— whew! What I was trying to say— I’m sorry I’m late, I wanted to stop by the market and bring something as a thank you but ah. . . I got delayed in choosing what to bring.”

Luxe’s eyebrow raises, a finger tip raising the basket lid to reveal a container filled to the brim with pastries. They blink, once again taken aback.

“I uh. . . brought. . . a little bit of everything?”

They couldn’t be all poisoned, could they? That would be a lot of work. . .

Luxe smiles gently, and lets the lid fall. “Very well then. I shall be sure to let the staff know you have brought a gift with you.”

They stare at the bright and hopeful expression the human was giving them, before suddenly turning shy and shuffling their feet.

“I ah— know it’s not much, but I hope they like it.”

Luxe eyes flicker to the basket again. Not much. . . ? Was it customary to give such grandiose presents? Did this pale in comparison to what they had intended to bring?

Luxe found themselves saying, “I am sure they will enjoy them immensely, usually we are not able to enjoy human sweets.”

Another bright and hopeful expression, “I. . . I could go and get more. . . if you’d like! It’s on the way here!”

Luxe gives an amused huff, “I. . . don’t think that’s necessary dear, you will be staying here from now on. I heard it is quite a walk to the nearest town.”

The human flusters and rubs the back of their neck in embarrassment, Luxe’s eyes crinkle at the reaction.

Judging by the reaction. . . it looks like they are easily flustered. . . Perhaps they can dissuade the human before they are even let inside.

A mischievous smile crosses their face, smoothing their hand up their collar.

“You hadn’t been told this?”

Luxe reaches out to box in the human, leaning closer. The large basket sandwiched between them.

“Why of course dear. . . this is your home now, but of course. . . if you happen to feel lonely I—“

In a reaction that shocks both of them, the human’s hands had reached to hold onto the other side of the basket, one hand reaching into it, taking out a pastry. Intending to give it to them as a peace offering, this action offshoots and boops Luxe in the nose with the treat, causing the concubus’ eyes to widen and flicker, two small hearts forming in their eyes. Luxe stares confounded at the human, who peeks up to look back at them.

The human, judging by their expression, had realized they had just smashed a pastry into the face of someone above them looks utterly horrified.

Luxe’s expression wobbles, their attempt to shake the quirky creature had been thrown out the window. The demon laughs, and loudly, leaning back to wipe apple jelly from their nose and mouth as the human dithers and raises the basket in defense.

“I-I- I AM SO SORRY—“

“No, no, I apologize. That was profoundly unprofessional of me.” They turn elegantly on their heels, turning to push open the door. “Let me redeem myself by showing you around.”

Luxe’s tail trailed behind them, the very tip of the tail brushing against the human's thigh. They keep their eyes forward, a very faint blush lining their cheeks.

Luxe stands in front of their vanity mirror, hands resting on the edge of the table. After showing the human around, they had given them a room on the main floor and had retired themselves to their own.

Luxe stared into the tiny dark hearts in their reflected eyes.

“Well. . . it’s been a while since this has happened.” They huff, and lean closer to scrutinize their reflection. “A silly creature is cute, yes, but that may just be a ruse. I will. . . have to keep a close eye on them. . .”

And kept a close eye, they did.

#monster x reader #monster x human #incubus x human #incubus x reader #concubi x reader #concubi x human #exophilia #sfw

55 notes · View notes

iamsherlocked1479 · 10 months

Text

A Strange feelng: Prolouge

Descrption: the proluge to a new series im starting! the reader (Emma) joinedthe sourcers when her life crumbled after the blip. She thought she had lost everything until she met him, Doctor Stephen Strange and now my friends she has a strange feelng that everything is going to be better. hopefully he feels the same way.

You don’t know what you’re doing here, you’re supposed to be studying the history of kamar taj yet you find yourself staring at an open portal to the new york sanctum, his sanctum. His words filtered through your head ‘whatever you need I’ll try and get it for you’ you hope that offer extended to emotional support. Someone to tell you you were being stupid and not to quit something just because it’s getting hard. Just like Jasmine had always reminded you. But she wasn’t here anymore, she was gone and so was mum. And that's why you’re here ignoring the way your heart is pounding out your chest, and how you’re sure the bottle of bourbon you have clutched in your hand will break. But you take a step forward, you made it the difficult bit. Now all you have to do is seek emotional comfort from the sourcer whom everyone but you and Wong believes is detached from the rest of the world, gripping what little control he had left of his life, just like you.

The new york sanctum was different from the others, it felt inviting in its own way if you ignore the crumbling ceilings and rickety staircases it was somewhat humble, it felt like a shield for the planet. You heaved yourself up the multiple staircases to the room you knew he’d be sat in. It was raining outside, the soft rumble of thunder humming in the distance not quite becoming a storm but far from calm. You saw his silhouette outlined from the dim light in the window slouched slightly in the chair, the clinking of the ice in his already poured drink being the only sound besides the thunder.

“You shouldn’t sit in the dark, it's bad for your eyes. As a doctor I figured you’d know this.” Your voice started him a little as he turned around.

“Emma,What are you doing here?” He says in a mildly irritated sound.

“I’m sorry you just said if i ever needed anything and i- I brought bourbon.” You tilt up the bottle and his face lightens up a bit

“Is that the good stuff you hide in your room?” He watches as you nod and flicks his finger illuminating the room with candles that had been placed around the room. You then somehow as if by magic end up next to him, his arm chair becoming a sofa big enough for the both of you to sit at a comfortable distance. “So? How can I be of assistance to you?” He says refilling his glass and filling yours.

“I don’t know really, i just got sick of being alone i guess and you’re the only person i can stand being around lately, other than wong but the sorcerer supreme has higher duties than listening to my blabbering mouth.” You take a drink from your glass wincing slightly, it was stronger than you thought.

“And how did you know I'd be awake? It is 3:25 am.” He laughed

“Because you come across as a pretty sleep deprived doctor I must say.”

“Well takes one to know one, really whats wrong?” He moves his arm to rest on the couch cushion his fingers just slightly away from your hair. You pretend to ignore the way his robes tense around his surprisingly muscular arms.

“Its been 8 months, today i mean, since the blip. Which means to me its eight months since i lost her and i just struggle seeing what all of this is.”

“This?” He tilts his head

“Me sat here in these less fashionable robes with Doctor Strange, the wizard who helped save the universe. And me, a vet tech who got let go from her job due to a purple space guy and is now learning how to teleport. It doesn’t make sense.” You choke on the last few words you didn’t want to cry in front of him.

“You really think, I understand all this? I go to bed everyday with a floating cloak at the end of my bed after spending the whole day making sure our reality is correct. But i do it because its what I believe is my purpose.” He stops for a minute watching as a lone tear falls from your eye “you didn’t come here to fix everything, you knew you couldn’t change what happened, and you stayed because you thought you could find your purpose. Don’t give that up.” He looks away at the rain pattering against the domed window. “I had lost everything when I came, I came to fix my hands, but I was taught something, this cost me alot but life is full of sacrifices. Don’t give up because things aren’t always in a straight line.” He turned to you, his eye’s glistening as if he was tearing up.

Those words, they were the same as what jasmine told you, and they were both right, she never gave up, so why should you.

“You know my sister used to tell me that.” You laugh, wiping your eyes.

“From what I hear she sounds like a good person.” His hands graze the loose strands of your hair, he stops when you notice but then finds his hand in your hair again when you don’t object.

“She was great, really. I sometimes struggled to understand how she managed everything. She was the one who told mum to get treatment, even recommend some of your research. The handsome guy with the salt and pepper hair my mum would say.” You blush slightly at the last sentence and are then struck with a mild amount of boldness “personally I’d agree.”

“Well at least we established i'm handsome tonight.” He took a smug drink from his glass

“So why were you up?” You ask

“It's not important.” He shakes his head

“C’mone I won’t tell anyone you have feelings.” You nudge him slightly.

“Fine, well i’ve had something on my mind recently. But im not quite sure how to approach it.” His arm moves from your head to his kneck, he looked nervous.

“Well maybe i can help?” You prop yourself up slightly like a teenager listening to the latest gossip.

“Well I don’t know it's sort of a big thing.” He laughs “there's someone i cant get out of my head and i was wondering if she feels the same but im not sure how to approach the situation.” He looks away again playing with the rim of his glass. Your chest tightens a little at the words of him liking a girl, but at the end of the day it was just a crush and you had to swallow your pride and deal with it.

“Well show her how you feel, its not always the best to wait on theses things.” You pretend to smile pretending like this wasn’t bothering you.

“You really think I should go for it?” He turned to you, with one brow raised and a sheepish grin on his face.

“What's the worst that could happen?” You nod and shuffle slight as you swirl your drink, he cleared his throat and put his drink of the coffee table. You looked at him for a moment and could almost be sure he was looking at your lips. He began to lean in closer, pressing his lips against yours. You weren't expecting it, so you didn’t kiss him back, but you didn’t pull away. Eventually he pulled away with a blush.

“I’m sorry, that was inappropriate of me-“

“No no- i just, i just want to test something.” You grabbed his face between your hands and kissed him back, this time he didn’t hesitate he locked you bodies together holding you close allowing his tongue to dance with yours for a moment. You eventually parted allowing yourselves to take a breath

“Huh, how was it?” He asked wiping his mouth

“Pretty good, can I just get a second opinion?” You ask and he nodded, pulling you in again to repeat the process. “Yeah well i have to say, pretty successful move, she liked it.” You blush eventually pulling apart.

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

A/N: this si just a prolouge so is very subject to change, I really like doing the reader pov with a character i can mould myself a little this is because im not a huge fan of y/n feel like it doesn't give me the freedom to write and develop my characters. And in regards to Thats not how i'd do it, i will be alternating between chapters when i cannot think of something fo the other so hopefully this allows me to become more active. I'm really excited to see where this goes and hope you are too! <3

#benedict cumberbatch #benedict cumberbatch x female!reader #dr strange x you #dr strange x reader #dr strange smut #dr stephen strange #doctor strange #doctor strange x female reader #marvel fanfic rec #marvel #doctor strange sorcerer supreme

15 notes · View notes

stingslikeabee · 23 days

Note

A letter left in her charge and hers alone. In the wake of Hikaru Sephiroth's memories returning, his heart may have been nurtured to new heights, but his ideals remained the same, stubbornly. He sought to make the world in Jenova's vision and was terminated. There would be no return from the Lifestream nor any more mothering from Melissa. A letter and memories were all that were left — ❛ This comes only with the certainty of my demise which means I failed. Again, I failed. This world was not for me, and I not fit for it. On the precipice of true death, I am certain I regret not being in your embrace where I was the happiest I could ever imagine being. I should have stayed, shouldn't it? I can't hold regrets in the afterlife, but it is my hope you do not carry any regrets nursing me to health. I never knew what love was until I had you. Goodbye, Melissa. I am sorry. ❜

unscripted asks . always accepting

She knew.

Upon finding the sealed envelope on her vanity, Melissa just knew what it all meant - even if there had been no news network relaying the events taking place so far away from Midgar or if the penmanship had been a strange one, a mother always sensed things differently in relation to her children. And while Hikaru (or rather, Sephiroth) had not been born from her body, he was her son.

It was just how she viewed the man - grown-up and deadly when transferred to Melissa's care and thanks to Shiva's grace, but embraced by the innocence of a young boy with the amnesia that plagued (or blessed?) him at the time. Theirs had been a journey of discovery - of the delicate and yet intense bonds that bloomed from simple acts such as washing hair, discovering one's favorite fresh fruit or even celebrating birthdays together.

Sephiroth had caused the deaths of many - a man deprived of humanity and fashioned into a weapon, but not while living under a false name and at the inn. For a while, he had just been 'Hikaru' - the light in her life, a silent presence that yet offered so much joy to Melissa. All the misguided, suffocated love that lingered in her heart and threatened to overflow finally had a worthy recipient. Hikaru needed a mother as strongly as she needed to care for him.

Gone were the ideas of having in him an ally against Corneo, some additional protection for the inn employees and slum residents - that was all secondary. Selfishly, Melissa had thought that their bliss would not be cut short - they had endured their trials and the gods wouldn't be as cruel as to separate those meant to find one another, right?

Not quite.

The woman who clutched the letter to her chest and sobbed with abandon did not react as the average Midgarian would to the news of an iconic figure suddenly re-emerging and then returning to the Lifestream (again?). Sephiroth had inspired many, then terrified even more people - but Melissa couldn't (wouldn't) believe that he was the same. Whoever the general had been - Hikaru was now part of him.

Her son, her curious child, her loving offspring with beautiful mako eyes, tender hands despite the calloused palms, soft touches even if he had no shortage of excuses to be cruel. All the vile words that the news channel kept repeating and people commented about were wrong - hurtful vitriol, baseless accusations. It stained his memory and eroded his good deeds.

What about the homeless children he defended? The girls he stood for? The old and vulnerable who breathed a sigh of relief when he emerged from a dark corner to face those sent by Corneo? Hikaru (and Sephiroth, by extension) had been human, loved and admired without the pomp and circumstance of a 1st Class. He had been himself.

He had been her son and Melissa would never forget him.

"I will see you again, Hikaru," the words were broken, the sobs making it hard for anything to get out at all. No trace of the melodic timbre or the warmth of her eyes remained - just steel determination to make the same journey as he had, "I know. I feel it. I will see you again, my son."

#saishuu-heiki #saishuu heiki #v: the Evil Queen #replied #how dare #I'm working through my inbox and #how daaaare #her (mass-murderer) baby!!

4 notes · View notes

denjiholic · 3 years

Text

making a sex tape w. nanami kento

✎ warnings/tags: NSFW, explicit content, dom! nanami, praise kink, blowjobs, degredation, rough sex, overstimulation, fingerfucking, cockwarming, deepthroating

✎ pairing: nanami x fem reader

✎ summary: you film a sex tape with nanami

✎ word count: 1.6k

✎ a/n: this work is apart of my jjk sex tape series on ao3. part 2, which is gojo, can be found here!

knees bare on the cool floor, you look up, noting how your position implies the worship of the man sitting on the bed above you.

you weren’t exactly worshiping nanami of course, but you’re on your knees in front of him to serve him in other ways.

you grin up at the black object he holds in his hand, and begin to unbuckle his leather belt.

“such an eager little thing..”, he chuckles.

you slowly pull down his pants, leaving you with your nose almost touching his boxers.

“have you started it yet?”

you’re referring to the video camera in his left hand, the lens staring down on you from your spot on the floor.

he nods in response to your question, watching you through the screen of the camcorder.

you laugh at the semi old - fashioned way he has chosen to record you.

“isn’t that a little outdated?”

he smiles, “i just wanted something that would fully capture your beauty.”

completing your task of removing his bottoms, you tug off his boxers. after taking off the fabric, you’re met with his hard cock in front of your face.

he’s already leaking at the tip, his erection more than ready to be relieved. you lick up from the base, locking eyes with him as you lightly spit on your hand. he shivers when your wet fingers wrap around his skin, stroking up and down slowly.

you finally put your mouth on his slick cock, your alluring expression enough to make nanami start to gently thrust his hips into you. you weren’t usually this messy when giving him head, something you’d done more times than you could count, but now that he was recording you, you wanted to show off a little.

letting drool leak down your chin, you make yourself look like the needy little slut you are, your body aching for his dick.

he fucks your face, keeping the camera steady and on your pretty expression, while your hands and tongue explore his hard cock. you hum around his length, the video recording each and every wet sound you make, as you gag and fully take him into your throat.

“that’s what i like to hear, you’re doing great”

after a while of letting him push into you, your mouth pulls off his dick. before he can look at you with confusion from the loss of contact, you take his shaft and center it in between your breasts. you push your tits together, engulfing his cock. beginning to rub it up and down, you smear precum and saliva onto the skin of your chest.

he follows your lead, sliding his cock in between your soft tits. you look up at the camera with a playful pout, letting out teasing whines as you rub your legs together.

before he reaches orgasm, nanami slides out and lets his own hand go to his length. he fists himself until sticky strings of white are shooting onto your face. you hold out your tongue, letting him cum all over your skin and mouth.

he omits low groans, brushing his cock onto your face. giggling with half lidded eyes, you let him messily paint his seed onto your skin.

“what a beautiful girl”, he hums.

you smile and visibly squeeze your thighs, letting nanami know just how aroused you are, each passing second without relief feels like torture.

noticing your hint, he asks, “why don’t you touch yourself for the camera and show me how you make yourself feel good?”

“of course”

you climb onto the bed, laying down onto your back. the plush mattress and sheets feel delicate and smooth on your warm skin.

he turns along with the camera, making sure he’s able to get your barely clothed body in frame.

pushing aside your damp panties, you make room for your fingers. tracing your clit, you start to stroke yourself in front of him.

he’s hard again, feeling the tempting urge to jerk himself off while watching you.

you play with your pussy, thrusting two fingers in and out of your leaking hole.

he kisses your outstretched hand softly, before asking, “do you think you could hold this for me sweetheart?”

nodding, you let him pass the camera to you.

you angle the screen to show nanami adjusting his position, as he settles his head in between your legs.

after you pull your fingers away from your slit, he licks a line up your entrance, letting your essence collect on your tongue. he maintains eye contact with you as he licks your clit, caressing it with his wet muscle.

you squirm and shake slightly at the pleasure he’s giving you, causing your hand to tremble.

“keep it steady”, he commands.

looking back up at you, he adds two fingers in, gently massaging upwards. You moan, rocking your hips onto his hand.

“does it feel good?”

you respond with a breathless noise of agreement, the constant stimulation from nanami enough to bring you close to finishing. he rubs on your clit with his tongue, continuing to finger you with ease.

“m’gonna cum”, you whimper.

at the warning of your close orgasm, nanami thrusts his fingers faster, sucking on your sensitive spot.

you cry out, feeling your climax surge through your body. holding your hips down, he looks at the camera as he licks up your cum.

once you stop shaking, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“open”

doing as you’re told, you part your lips to let him put his wet fingers into your mouth. you suck on them, tasting yourself on his skin.

“good girl”

he takes the camera from your hand, leaving you on the bed while he positions it on a nearby desk. after ensuring you both will be in frame, he walks back over, and pushes you down into the mattress.

he kisses you deeply, his lips on your own making your body heat rise. you put a hand on his face, drawing him in for more, hungrily letting your tongues mix. when he pulls away, you’re both out of breath.

“get on your hands and knees”, he whispers.

turning over so that you are supporting yourself with your limbs, you get on all fours on the bed.

he inspects your position for a moment before saying, “arch up more.”

you arch your back, feeling the strain in your muscles as you present your ass in the air to him.

“that’s it, a little further”

continuing to raise your hips up, you keep curving your back.

nanami laughs softly to himself, “such an obedient slut.”

your hand tugs on the sheets as you whine, his words getting you wetter by the second.

“beg”, he orders.

“what?”

“beg for me to fuck you”

you look back at him with lustful eyes.

“please put your cock inside me, i need it so fucking bad”, you whimper.

sensing your desperation, he spits on your already dripping cunt. after fisting his cock a couple times, he starts to enter you.

it’s uncomfortable at first, but nanami takes it slow, giving you time to adjust to his length.

“are you feeling alright?”, he asks, ensuring your comfort.

you nod your head, signaling him to start thrusting.

he holds onto your waist, gripping your sides gently as he starts to move his hips. nanami fucks you at a steady pace, his fingers additionally rubbing on your clit. begging and whimpering, you feel him hitting deep inside you.

“you’re doing such a good job taking me”, he coos.

you moan, his words of praise sending heat to your stomach. continuing to caress your pussy and thrust into you, you tighten around his cock. he’s fully bottomed out, balls deep inside your warm cunt.

“fuck, nanami”, you whine.

he pushes deeper into your walls, until your mind goes fuzzy and your vision goes white. your legs tremble when you cum all over his dick, the slick from your pussy coating his length.

continuing to thrust, he doesn’t stop until he’s almost reached orgasm. just before he finishes, he pulls out, jerking his cock until cum is spurting all over the skin of your back. he curses, feeling the full height of his climax. he barely spares any time after he steadies his breathing, and he pins you down onto the bed.

he plants kisses onto your neck, biting at your exposed flesh.

you thread your fingers through his hair, gasping when you feel him start to insert himself in you once more. wrapping your legs tightly around his waist, you push nanami deeper.

he grunts, thrusts getting messier. he pants as he humps into you, letting your bodies mix with one another. nipping at your ear, he listens to your change of breathing, and the small moans you release. your hands claw at his back, leaving marks that will most definitely hurt in the morning.

he clutches your body tightly as he cums inside you again, his eyes shut with pleasure.

“shit”, he says breathlessly.

“shit”, you echo, feeling yourself descend from your own orgasm.

he brings his forehead to yours before giving you a long and meaningful kiss. you hug at his scratched back, and hold him close to you. nanami starts placing kisses on your body. on your arms, your neck, your stomach, your tits, he admires every part of your figure.

when he finally slips out of your pussy, he looks at the remnants of both of your climaxes.

he turns around, eyeing at the camera on the desk. it’s still on, recording your every move.

getting up from his place above you, he takes steps towards the table. after the camcorder is back in his hand, he turns it off, ending the video.

“once we shower, do you want to watch it and see how it turned out?”, you ask.

“if it has you in it it’s already going to be good, so why don’t we just get started on filming a part two?”, he smiles.

you laugh, knowing full well both of you are too tired for another round.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #nanami x reader #nanami smut #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen x you

881 notes · View notes

shorkbrian · 3 years

Note

i’m sorry but i luv your writing/thot process so i have to share this: imagine superstar trainer kiri marrying ur mom. he’s only a few years older (and you had a crush on him first) so you avoid him bc you’re shy/uncomfortable with it. your plans are foiled when mom’s away and y’all are stuck at home during a snow storm, power out, no heat/gas, and no matter how many layers u use nothing beats body heat. kiri is so sweet and just wants to get close and keep you warm/see whats under ur sweats

I’m literally melting rn

Like imagine Kiri shuffling closer to you on the couch, scooting underneath the blankets you have piled around your body.

He keeps getting closer and closer and closer until he’s pressed up against you, and he feels like a heater, warm and cozy and comfortable. You don’t mind burrowing down into his side a bit, only blushing a little when the big man chuckles at your behavior.

There’s a movie playing on the TV, but you’re kind of sleepy, and your stepdad feels so sturdy and safe against your side, and you’re finally warming to a comfortable temperature, and before you know it, you’re fast asleep.

When you wake up, you’re laying down on a solid surface, heat wrapped around your body and trapped beneath the blankets. The surface rumbles and shifts, and only then do you realize that Kirishima must have moved you.

The room is dark, TV off, lights out. The wind is still howling and moaning outside like a mourner at a grave, beating against the windows and crying to the sky.

Lifting your head means you get a view of Kiri’s face, of his handsome, relaxed self as he gazes down at you, a pleased, soft smile on his features.

You go to apologize for falling asleep on him and for inconveniencing him, but Kirishima doesn’t let you. “It’s warmer this way, plus, I like holding something while I sleep.”

He has his arms wrapped around you, thick biceps pressing heavy against your shoulders, keeping you flush to his muscular chest. You blush a little at the position, shifting your legs and trying not to do anything weird.

But in moving your legs around, you find yourself straddling his thigh, the stocky limb flexing underneath your weight, Kirishima twitching.

“Sorry-” You blush again, intending on moving, but your stepdad drops a hand to your hip, steadying you.

“No, don’t apologize, I get it.” He winks at you, before jiggling his thigh a bit, settling you down further onto it. “I remember doing stuff like this back in high school, I know it feels good.”

A long moment of silence stretched between you two as you processed his words, feeling increasingly awkward.

“Um, okay...” Was all you could come up with.

Kirishima laughed a bit. “You’ve never cuddled with anyone before? It’s nice, isn’t it? ‘Specially with the heat out like this. Power went out while you were sleeping.”

You felt a little silly now, ducking your head and dropping your gaze. That would explain why the lights were off. You had just assumed the movie had finished playing and your stepdad had turned it off, but apparently that wasn’t the case.

“Temp’s gonna drop fast, we’re probably going to have to use good ‘ole body heat while we sleep. You wanna move to the bed? Or just sleep here?”

A shrug, and Kirishima smiled. “Okie-doke, bed it is. Thank goodness, my back would kill me if I tried to sleep on the couch. Gettin’ old s’no fun.”

The man sat up, and you quickly disentangled yourself from him, ignoring the way his thigh rubbed in between your legs as he moved about. As soon as you felt the chill of the room, you shivered, clacking your teeth together and snatching the blanket tight around yourself.

“Oh, that’s so cold, fuck.”

“Hey, watch your language-” Kirishima chided, rising to his feet as he gathered the rest of the blankets up into his arms. “No potty mouths in this house, yeah? Keep it clean.”

He’d been married to your mom for almost a year now, and Kirishima had easily fallen into the “father figure” role, despite the fact that it wasn’t necessarily needed.

But you indulged him by laughing at his corny dad jokes, complimenting the various meats he grilled for meals, keeping your judgements about his questionable fashion choices to yourself instead of blurting them out to his face.

Kirishima led the way to the master bedroom, the room he shared with your mom, stating that the bed was bigger, it’d be more comfortable. Did you really expect him to fit into your bed?

He was a big man, strong and solid. He was able to throw you over one shoulder, your mom over the other, and run around the house whooping while the two of you laughed and pounded on his back.

“Alright-” Kirishima tossed his armful of blankets onto the bed he shared with your mom, immediately fluffing them up and pulling at the edges until he was satisfied.

The man pulled back the edge, holding it ups as he turned to you. “Head on inside!”

It was cold at first, the sheets and blankets chilly. You snuggled up to Kirishima as soon as the big man laid down, making him laugh a bit as your teeth chattered together.

“S-sorry it’s just so-so c-cold.” You explained.

“Your nose is all red, you look so cute.” His smile is warm, his hands even warmer as they begin to rub up and down your sides.

You don’t know how to respond, let yourself relax into the comforting touch, his fingertips dancing over your sweater.

“So.....” Kiri starts “You’ve never had a boyfriend then? You got so quiet when I asked if you’ve cuddled with someone before.”

A blush rose to your cheeks, and you shook your head. “No, I have. I broke up with him a little bit before you and mom started dating.”

The redhead’s quiet for a moment, then tucks his chin over your head, drawing you closer into his chest. “I’m sorry. Relationships can be hard, I know.”

“It was for the best, I think.” You continue, letting your stepdad rub your back as you talked. “We just didn’t really jive well together I guess. Wish we’d figured that out sooner though.”

The man pressed against you is so sturdy, solid and radiating heat like a furnace. It’s easy to relax in his easy-going presence.

“Well, if you ever miss cuddling, don’t hesitate to come find me, yeah? It’s one of my favorites.”

Kirishima was a touchy man, and it was obvious that his love language was touch, so it made sense. He always had his thick arms wrapped around your mom, was holding her hand, holding yours, placing kisses on your cheeks, kissing your mom every chance he got.

Sometimes he asked you to brush out his hair for him, when you weren’t busy or anything. He’d relax into jelly as you ran the hairbrush through his red locks, contented little sighs falling from his lips.

“Okay, I’ll do that.” You chuckle, thinking to yourself how the world had a funny sense of humor.

Truthfully, when you’d first been introduced to the man your mom had recently started dating, you’d developed a hopeless crush. He was attractive, kind, funny; if your mom wasn't dating him, you would’ve asked for his number.

A small part of you was irritated that the man was young enough for you to date him, your mother unbothered by the sugar stereotype she’d developed.

But ah well, what’s done is done.

“You know, I didn’t know what I'd be like having a daughter.” Kirishima soft voice breaks you out of your thoughts. “You’re almost more like.... I dunno, a friend? If that makes sense. I feel like we’re buddies.”

“Yeah, I feel like that too.” You confess, breathing into his neck, able to smell the cologne he uses, something heady and strong and manly.

A comfortable silence settles around you both, nothing but soft breaths and Kirishima’s warm hands rubbing gently over your body, against your sides, up and down your back, massaging your shoulders.

They traveled too close to your tummy, and you choked out a laugh, flinching away from Kirishima.

“Don’t, ‘m ticklish.” Came your breathless, giggly warning.

“Yeah? Yeah?” The redhead grinned, a glint in his eye, barely noticeable before he pounced, rolling over until you were smothered beneath his hefty weight, unable to move.

Horrible, terrible fingers descended, dug into your ribs and you shrieked, wide smile breaking across your features as your stepdad tickled you.

This is what happiness was made of.

Warm and fuzzy, the smell of rain, the sound of it pattering against the roof. Strong arms around you, a laugh on your lips.

Kirishima’s thigh slipped in between yours, pressed upwards, and you choked on a breath, hands immediately clutching at the man’s biceps.

“You’re so sensitive, it’s so cute.”

No time to say his name, ask any questions. He was situating you on your side, legs tangled with his, a big, beefy thigh still flush against your clothed sex.

“Mm, you ever do this with your boyfriend?” The redhead was moving, hands gripping your waist now, dragging you along his thigh, and you kept bumping up against his chest, his toned stomach.

“Yes-yeah.” Was your breathless reply, head whirling, eyes wide. This isn’t really what you were expecting, not from your stepdad.

But it wasn’t entirely unwelcome.

That’s why you weren’t screaming your head off, recoiling in disgust, scrambling for the phone to call your mom, the police.

No, you were still, pliant against Kirishima as he moved your body, his lazy red eyes fixed on your face. “Hm? Feels nice, doesn’t it? You like it?”

A shaky nod is all you can muster, feeling yourself beginning to drip against your stepdad’s thigh, slick all over your folds, the skin tingling, making your hips jump as your clit pulsed at the stimulation.

God, it felt good.

“You make me so happy, y’know? Such a pretty, smart girl.” He praised, and now you could feel it - feel the cock filling out against your tummy, hot and wet, leaking.

“I really hit the jackpot. A beautiful wife, a gorgeous daughter... I love you so, so much.” Kirishima was breathing heavier, his fingers digging into your hipbones as he dragged you back and forth against him. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. Just wanna take care of you, yeah? Make you cum lots, whatever you want.”

Almost feverish now, his hips twitching forward, pushing against your tummy again and again, rubbing his cock against your soft flesh, groaning in your ear, breath stuttering-

And then a long moan, a burst of warmth soaking through your pajama shirt, right where the tip of Kiri’s cock rested.

“Oh shit-” He gasped, sucking in air, muscles flexing as he drew back his legs, hands shakily pushing you onto your back.

“That - Jesus, you really got me goin’.” Kiri panted, beginning to kiss at your neck, one of his hands diving into your pajama pants, straight down to strum over your clit.

Already keyed up from the dry humping, veins pumping with excitement, arousal, the thrill of being touched and fondled by your-your stepdad.

A finger teased at your hole, then inched inside, and you bucked your hips, crying out a bit.

“Hey, hey-” He was still a little breathless, a little lightheaded from his orgasm, but the man was determined.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. I got you. I’m always gonna take care of my girl.”

#kirishima #dark kirishima #tw.dark content #kirishima x reader #kiri #kirishima imagine #bnha kirishima #Kirishima Eijirou #eijirou

591 notes · View notes

kassandras-one-braincell · 3 years

Text

Abby Anderson x GN!Reader - Please Don’t Leave Me

Bad Things Happen Bingo prompt: Please Don’t Leave Me (I’m creative with my titles)

Can be found on AO3 here.

Setting: before Abby leaves to go golfing. Abby and the reader are in an established relationship.

Warning: angst angst angst, excessive usage of the f-bomb and discussions of murder.

(Y/N) replacer safe.

Word count: 1846

Fuck, she’s really doing this.

Every day since Isaac had granted the Salt Lake Crew leave to hunt down Joel Miller, you tried to bargain with Abby, tried to make her see some sense. That killing him won’t take away any of the pain she feels. The grief. The gaping hole in her heart. But she’d always brush you off, distancing herself from you, suppressing her emotions with bicep curls and crunches as per habit.

Each passing hour, a nail was hammered into the coffin of the woman you love. And this morning is the final nail.

The quaint apartment you call home is filled with a cacophony of rustling and pleas as Abby shovels supplies into her backpack, preparing for her hunt. In her mind, Joel’s death warrant is signed, the execution nigh. And God are you desperate, trying to drill some semblance of reality into her stubborn mind one last time before she embarks on a journey she’ll only regret.

“Abby, please just listen to me for one minute—”

“I need to do this.” She heads to your small shared closet, refusing to look at you from your position by the bed. You frantically try to intercept her path, knowing full well she’s much, much stronger and can reposition you with ease. But it’s worth a try.

“This isn’t going to solve anything,” you implore, clutching the wood.

“Move, (Y/N).”

“Abby, this isn’t going to bring him back. You know that.”

“Move.” Her tone is exasperated, utterly focused on packing her shit and promptly leaving. Your heart sinks to your stomach.

“That girl in the hospital. The immune one. She must have been like a daughter to him for Joel to kill a group of innocent people for her,” you plead, feet firmly planted on the floor. Searching for her eyes, those blue irises alight with a maelstrom of hateful determination. They meet yours. “Killing him will just put her through all of this.”

Abby reaches for the closet door and slowly pulls it open, acknowledging your reluctance to move, deciding to disregard it. The wood begins to dig into your back and you’re forced to step aside. “This isn’t going to end, Abby. You fucking know this.” As she folds some spare clothes and places them in her backpack, you fall gracelessly to the bed, needing to sit down. Bile climbs up your oesophagus. Shit, where was her sense of fucking empathy?

“Abby…” Once again, she doesn’t so much as spare you a glance, folding the garments in robotic fashion. “Abby, you said she was a kid. A kid.”

The final shirt is stuffed haphazardly into the bag. She grits her teeth and turns to you. “He killed dozens of Fireflies, (Y/N). Dozens. And that’s all we fucking know of. There could be hundreds of others because he’s a stone cold killer.” Her face flushes with anger, no remnants of the woman you know left behind. “No one person is worth that many fucking lives.”

You let out a breathy laugh in sheer disbelief. “But it’s not about them, is it? Not to you.” The words escaped you in a hiss, one that didn’t go unnoticed. “Never fuckin’ has been.”

Abby rolls her eyes and grabs her maps from the coffee table, iron fist crumpling the papers beyond legibility. “There could have been a cure. A fucking cure to all this.”

On the surface, her words are rational. One life for a cure that would save millions was a worthy sacrifice, that you would be foolish to deny. But the odds of developing this cure were slim, and the girl would have likely died in vain. You knew this. Abby knew this. Jerry knew this.

With a shaky breath, you cradle your arms, never before having felt the urge to cage yourself around Abby. Fingers firmly gripping at your elbows, you let the cards fold. Unadulterated truth.

“You’re in denial, Abigail.”

A tut. “Don’t you fucking ‘Abigail’ me.” Her previous efforts to maintain a steady tone have been vanquished, anger seeping into each progressing word.

She’s gone.

And it’s this precise revelation that fills your eyes with oceans. Throat closing up, nose burning with the urge to spill over, you attempt – attempt – to articulate yourself, to no avail. Seconds later, rivulets trickle from your eyes to your cheeks, and you find yourself sniffling like some stupid kid… No, not a kid. A grieving adult, bereaved by the loss of a lover. Because the other figure in the room is but a husk of the radiant soul you fell for.

“All…” You pause to inhale, deeply: a futile effort to regulate your breathing, to lay rest to the turmoil suffocating your ability to fucking think. “All that’s going to happen is… You’re going to have to—” Hiccupping, you close your eyes, praying no more tears would fall. “To live with the guilt of orphaning a kid.”

Sentence finally out, you surrender to your sorrows, allowing them to wrack your chest with sobs and heaves until it gets too much, salt freely spilling from the floodgates. You can’t…you won’t bring yourself to look at Abby – the machine in her place, one programmed to kill and kill alone.

It’s wholly terrifying.

Distress flickers in her eyes, her frown slackening for a fraction of a second at the sound of your despair. “No one is forcing you to come,” she puts plainly, as if that has anything to do with the issue at hand.

“You know this – isn’t about that. Fuck, even Owen knows this…this is a bad idea.” Too dejected to cry. Too dejected to battle the hitched breaths you take trying to force out the words.

Words that fall upon deaf ears. “That’s not what Owen told me.” She slots a Swiss army knife into her cargo pants’ pocket, headed with a canteen in hand towards the kitchenette. “He was there, (Y/N). He agreed that Joel needs to die.”

“Because he’s fucking scared of you!” We all are, nearly breaks free from your lips, but that’s not what Abby needs to hear right now. Nothing that will push her away. Further away. The reigns you have on your lover are fraying, leaving you grasping at nought but strings. Frenzied, you attempt a softer, less concrete approach. “Baby, it isn’t normal to be so…hellbent on revenge like this.”

Silence. The delicate trickle of water sounds from the faucet as Abby fills her canteen. Then, a sigh, one of frustration as opposed to defeat. “If you think calling me ‘baby’ is going to erase four motherfucking years of grief, you are sorely mistaken. You’re smarter than that.”

Patience thinning, you stand up, wading through strewn supplies across the apartment floor towards the kitchenette. “Four years and you still haven’t given yourself time to mourn properly,” you reason, deliberately obstructing her path out of the kitchen with your body again. “Maybe if you had you’d see some fucking sense.”

God, that was a mistake. Shit, shit, shit shit shit the last thing you want to do is piss her off, not with her mind in such a volatile state, devoid of all logic.

“I appreciate you’ve lived a fucking sheltered life since the outbreak,” she seethed. What?

“That’s not true—”

“And you have no fucking idea what it’s like to have someone ripped away from you like that.” Volume rising, words a mantra fuelled by detest. “And you know, maybe, just fucking maybe, this’ll be my one chance to put an end to this shit!” The fist not clutching her backpack clenches. And for the first time ever while alone in her company, you flinch.

“He fucking deserves this, (Y/N)! If I can show him a fraction of the pain he caused me—”

“Abby, you’re scaring me,” you whimper, closing in on yourself. Genuinely afraid she’d raise her hand towards you.

Had you a mirror, you’d know truly how perturbed you look in this very moment. Streamlines drying on your cheeks, eyes reddening and puffy from crying, wide with fear like a doe face-to-face with a moving car. Body subconsciously making itself smaller, reducing its surface area, reducing the likelihood for any incoming swings to hit.

She lowers her guard, colour returning to her knuckles as she unravelled her fist. Knitted brows returning to their natural place above her eyes, mouth parted as the horror of her behaviour settles in.

“You know I would never hurt you, right?” Even her previously stern voice cracks at this.

It takes tremendous willpower to not fall back as she takes a tentative step towards you.

Drying your eyes with your sleeves – her sleeves…you forgot you’re wearing her old sweater, the notion sour on your tongue – you break your mutual gaze. “You’re not you right now,” you whisper, not trusting your larynx to produce anything above a mouse’s squeak. “This isn’t the Abby I know.”

For the first time this morning, a sentiment other than bloodlust registers in her face. Hurt.

Either unable or unwilling to respond, Abby recommences her packing in solemn silence.

Shit, you have three, perchance five minutes at best to dissuade your girlfriend from leaving and doing something that will haunt her for all eternity. Yet all you can do is brace yourself against the wall and allow a second tsunami of tears to wash over you, pangs of anguish striking your heart. “Abby—”

“I’m going, (Y/N).” Firm, with a shred less conviction, but firm enough.

A violent sob tears through you as you beg, beg, the vessel of the woman you adore, “Please don’t leave me.”

For a fleeting moment, your heart stops as she hesitates in her tracks. A flicker of hope seizes your mind, that perhaps she has reconsidered, that finally some logic has entered her train of thought.

It all crashes down when she reaches for the spare rifle ammunition by the front door.

“Fuck, Abby—”

“I’ll be gone a month at most.”

Hail-Mary.

Please.

Chest shuddering with each sob that wracks through you, you utter through violently trembling lips and hiccups, “You’re so – fucking blinded – by your hatred – right now – that you can’t – fuck, see – this will – kill you—”

The gravity of the situation threatens to make your knees buckle.

Abby plucks her jacket from the coat hanger and wades over to your crippled stance by the kitchen. A hand brushes your salt-slicked cheek as a lock of hair is swept out of your line of sight. “I love you,” she whispers in pained honesty.

“Abby…” You try to take her hand, to ground her, to remind her of the life she’s leaving behind on her relentless pursuit of this warped sense of justice.

“Goodbye, (Y/N).” She squeezes your palm and lets go, zipping up her pack as the front door to the apartment creaks open and slams shut.

Death is a word that isn’t used lightly, especially not after an epidemic takes the world by storm. But part of your spirit certainly died the moment that door closed behind her.

(I’ll leave it up to you whether she has a change of heart or leaves and scores a few hits above par.)

#abby anderson x reader #im sorry :(#abby tlou #angst #bad things happen bingo

191 notes · View notes

beccascribbles · 4 years

Text

hcs series detailing what it is like to be a manager for the various haikyuu teams

karasuno | seijoh |

warnings - swearing

word count - 2.1k

you weren't immune to oikawa's charms, but being friends with him since middle school meant you were the least likely in the school to fall for him (you were also the least likely person he would mess with in that way, especially as iwaizumi would happily punch him for the trouble)

this meant you were a perfect candidate for manager of the team

when you all been first years, the team had come up to you and begged

ultimately, it had been iwaizumi who had finally convinced you (the sight of him almost begging you would be forever ingrained in your mind. boy did not want to be the only one responsible for oikawa)

by the time you reached your third year, you were immensely glad that you had agreed to manage the team

at times, it had been tough. dealing with oikawa's jealous fangirls often felt like a full time job. the amount of times you had sprinted into the club room to the shock of the team was ridiculous

one day, you had dived through the door, yelling for then to shut and lock the door as you crashed to the floor

iwaizumi had been by your side in an instant, worried gaze assessing you for injuries. when you let out a wince, rubbing at you arm, he was automatically assessing it for damage

"it's not broken," he assured you, giving your head an affection pat before his gaze turned to oikawa, eyes narrowing. "call your fucking fangirls off, shittykawa"

"i've tried," he whined, giving you an apologetic look. "clearly their love for me is too strong"

"maybe if they actually spoke to you, they'd realise what a crap personality you have," sighed matsukawa, slapping oikawa on the back affectionately and then holding the hand up to receive a high five from hanamaki

slowly, hesitantly, you moved over to the door, pressing your ear to the surface. through the wood, you could the girls, their high-pitched voices grating at your nerves

“i really fucking hate them,” you grumbled, moving away to sit on the floor beside hanamaki, who wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you leaned against his shoulder. “why did i let you convince me to join this club?”

this was directed to iwaizumi, who had the good idea to look sheepish. oikawa, on the other hand, collapsed down on the floor in front of you and spread out his arms. “because you love us, y/n-chan”

“not you,” you scoffed, poking him in the chest. he pouted

“that’s no way to talk to your childhood friend”

“it is when they have a swarm of jealous fangirls after you”

oikawa looked like he was about to reply, but a clip to the ear by iwaizumi was enough to distract him. he turned to his friend with a cry of outrage, beginning to bicker with the ace

while you would usually tell them to shut up, pull them apart, you couldn’t really be bothered. breaking up fights was for when you were on duty. training hadn’t started yet so you figured you could let them bicker

the second years clashed less than the third years but sometimes you were needed to break up the fights, particularly when kyoutani made a return to the team

while he was away, you had been one of the only ones who checked up on him, always telling him that if he needed to talk, if he was struggling with anything, you would be there

therefore, he had a lot of respect for you, placing you on a similar level to iwaizumi (the only member of the team who could get away with telling him what to do or scolding him angrily)

this meant that, when you appeared in front of him, placing a placating hand on his chest, his hackles would lower and he would back away, though the glare would remain on his face

truth be told, kyoutani was a little bit scared of you suddenly exploding on him, especially after the way you had snapped at him when he had first pulled off a risky play in practice

you had seen red when he had pushed kindaichi out of the way to spike the ball, marching over and grabbing him by the top to drag him away. it was the first time they had ever seen him apologise

while kyoutani respected you, the relationship you had with him was very different with the one you had with the other second years. kyoutani would never invite you to lunch. watari and yahaba on the other hand...

your week is not complete without a lunch with them. you aren’t even sure when you managed to form such a strong friendship with them, but it was likely when you agreed to help them in maths (it’s not yahaba’s strong point and he begged watari to join him)

you are the one responsible for stopping yahaba showing off, particularly when the gym floods with fangirls, most of them there to watch oikawa

he will flip his hair and affect an air very similar to oikawa which will frustrate you to no end. you will drag him off court by the ear, telling him to stop, threatening him with extra conditioning

matsukawa and hanamaki will definitely start snickering at the way his face reddens, focused more on this than the fact that they are meant to be improving their serves

you can always trust watari to help you out, no matter how much you insist that you don’t need it. he is the first to volunteer to help you set up the court, to help you carry the equipment for away games

now, the first years. if iwaizumi is the team dad, you are the mum

you dote on kindaichi and kunimi, trying to keep them away from matsukawa’s and hanamaki’s influence. you don’t want them to be corrupted by the pair. iwaizumi will help you but even he sees little point in stopping the inevitable

kindaichi was very awkward around you at the start. his brain couldn’t comprehend that a pretty girl was talking to him, let alone asking if he was okay, if he needed a drink

eventually, kindaichi relaxes. you are the one he turns to when he has a problem, explaining it all to you. if it involves another team member, you will encourage him to tell them, not wanting there to be fractures in the team. after all, aoba johsai thrives because of their great teamwork

kunimi is, as usual, very relaxed around you

most of the time, he barely acknowledges your fussing, simply waving you away and heading back onto the court to resume practice

however, if he wants to slack off (which he does often), it will be you he makes eye contact with. you know you shouldn’t condone this behaviour but, occasionally, you allow it. he promises he will pull through for the game and you believe him, though you do explain that if he slacks off too much it could mean risking his sport in the starting rotation

your quiet understanding is often what motivates him to keep going. he doesn’t want to disappoint you. plus, he has seen you angry and would rather not be the reason for that

oikawa is intimately familiar with your anger. the boy just seems to do everything possible to piss you off. what angers you most is the apparent disregard for his own health, but you don't take this out on him physically

you and iwaizumi team up to handle him, with both of you favouring a more violent approach (sometimes that's the only way to knock some sense into oikawa's brain)

while iwaizumi will throw either oikawa or various items such as volleyballs at him, you tend to favour a good old-fashioned slap to the back of the head

he always knows you're coming, his whole body tensing at the sound of your footsteps drawing closer to him. oikawa is almost more scared of you than iwaizumi, probably because you are more cold fury than fiery anger

that first night iwaizumi had asked you to stay behind after practice with him, your heart almost broke at the sight of oikawa pushing himself

you saw the sweat, watched him stumble, clutch at his damaged knee... but despite the pain, he kept pushing

as you watched, you grasped iwaizumi's hand, who was tense beside you, needing the physical anchor as much as you

"why does he do this to himself?" you questioned, watching as oikawa pushed up from the floor, landing awkwardly on his feet. still, he kept pushing

iwaizumi didn't bother to answer. the answer was obvious, and you both knew what it was. he needed to get better, for the team, for himself, for revenge

"if he keeps going like that, his knee will be permanently damaged and he can say goodbye to a volleyball career," said iwaizumi, jaw tight. hand still in yours, he marched onto the court

he finally released your hand to grab oikawa by the shirt and yank him away. his voice was a low growl as he spoke, "don't fucking complain. we've been here long enough and you're going home before you regret it"

"you're so... urgh, do you want to make me lose my mind with worry, tooru?" you sigh, wrapping an arm around his waist, more to reassure yourself that he was fine than to other support. he slung an arm over your shoulder, leaning on you slightly with iwaizumi at his other side

"didn't think you cared, y/n-chan," he teased, giving you an affectionate squeeze. you caught eyes with iwaizumi, rolling your own at oikawa's words

"of course i care. we both do"

from that night on, you and iwaizumi took turns watching oikawa, stopping him when it became clear that he was doing too much

on the nights when you had to watch him, you would sit in the corner of the gym on a video chat with matsukawa and hanamaki as you tried to do some homework (to be honest, you spent most of your time joking around and chatting, but the thought was there)

oikawa, though he never showed it, was grateful for you and iwaizumi's worry. it put a check on him which he would never admit to wanting, but needed desperately

on weekends, you and the third years will always meet up, be it to do homework or just watch a movie at someone's house

movie nights tend to be quite messy (it's not uncommon to be picking popcorn out of your hair at the end)

one time, you had fallen asleep on iwaizumi's shoulder only to wake up to his head flopped against yours and a snickering oikawa and hanamaki. the pair had taken great joy in drawing a moustache and beard on your faces, while matsukawa took photos (he's usually the one who takes your group photos and sends them to everyone at the end)

managing the team is mainly fun, though it does have its cursed moments

you weren't ashamed to admit that you cried, along with the rest of the third years, when you left

however, the tears did not stop you from giving your kouhais some strongly-worded advice

yahaba was warned to not think with his dick and to try his very best to not intimidate oikawa in his quest for some fangirls

kyoutani was told that you were only a phone call away and would not hesitate to scold him if he let his anger take control over his playing style

honestly, the only thing you wished watari was luck. he'd need it, especially as there was no manager to support them next year

kunimi you told to slack off less, though you wouldn't hold it against him if he did sneak off for a little nap during the school day so long as he was energised for volleyball

with kindaichi, you simply gave him a hug and told him to keep trying his best, to not beat himself up over every mistake he made

it was oikawa who insisted on a big group hug, pulling you and a rather disgruntled iwaizumi into his arms, the rest of the team happily bundling in

and, as you hugged each other, you were thankful iwaizumi had convinced you to join the team because you knew you had made friends for life

#haikyuu x manager reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #hq hcs #hq headcanons #hq manager hcs #seijoh x manager #seijoh third years x reader #seijoh x reader #oikawa x reader #iwaizumi x reader #hanamaki x reader #matsukawa x reader #yahaba x reader #watari x reader #kyoutani x reader #kunimi x reader #kindaichi x reader

2K notes · View notes

zukkaflowers · 3 years

Text

zukka enemies to roommates au

Sokka slammed his head on the cafe table, the noise swallowed up by the chattering of other customers. “I’m being EVICTED,” he moaned.

Katara raised her eyebrows as she drank her tea and then placed it back on the table. “Why?”

Sokka dragged his head up against the table until his chin was the only thing touching the wood and Katara made a face, no doubt thinking of all the germs that were now rubbed into Sokka’s face like lotion. Sokka couldn’t bring himself to care. He was too deep in his despair. “The landlord sold the building. And now I only have two weeks to move because everything around here is so fucking expensive and I got discouraged so I put it off—“

“Move in with Zuko!”

“...like I put everything—what did you just say?”

Katara’s face brightened, a stark contrast to the cloud of doom that had been enveloping Sokka. “His roommate is moving in with her girlfriend and he needs a new one. A roommate, not a girlfriend. And I think his place is really close to your work, too! It’s perfect!”

Sokka finally sat up, shoving his hands in his sister’s face to turn her brightness down a notch because it was hurting his eyes. “Wait wait wait, are you talking about the Zuko I think you’re talking about?”

“Is there another one?”

Sokka had many questions. “Why do you know he needs a new roommate? Why do you know his roommate is moving in with her girlfriend? How do you know where he lives? Did you just say, ‘it’s perfect’?”

Katara watched Sokka as he grabbed his drink, eyes never leaving her face in a demonstration of his seriousness, and then swallowed painfully with a grimace after realizing he’d grabbed Katara’s bitter tea on accident. “You’re such a goof,” she sighed in anguish. “Zuko and Aang actually went to university together and became friends. Zuko wants to be a teacher like Aang.”

Sokka sputtered. “WHAT?” A few strangers shot him judgmental looks at the outburst, which he ignored. “You—you—he—Aang—BETRAYAL??”

Katara rolled her eyes. “This is why we kept it a secret from you! We all knew you’d be overdramatic about it.”

“We ALL?”

Katara shrugged, finally having enough decency to look sheepish. “Yeah, me, Aang… and Suki and Toph.”

Sokka’s jaw dropped wider. “SUKI?” He clutched his heart. “Mine own bestie...”

Katara continued, “Well, it’s Toph that’s really close to him now, actually.”

“Figures. She’s always been my least supportive friend.” Sokka gasped as a realization hit him. “Is… is Zuko the ‘Captain Angst’ guy she keeps hanging out with??”

“Yeah,” Katara said plainly.

Sokka slammed his head back on to the table, where it might as well have stayed long-term.

“I’m serious, though, Sokka,” said Katara. “Zuko is… kind of okay, and obviously he has everyone else’s approval. You shouldn’t let a petty high school rivalry between you two get in the way of your current life.”

“‘Petty high school rivalry’??? Last I heard, there were four of us involved in the rivalry-ing! You weren’t too fond of him or his sister, either!”

Katara once again rolled her eyes. “All I’m saying is, the place is within your budget, it’s actually nice, and the commute is good. He’s only just started looking for a new roommate, and I promise that if you don’t try it out, you’ll regret it.”

“And all I’m saying is, if we move in together, Zuko and I will murder each other.”

Katara looked at her phone and stood up, collecting her bag and bile tea. “I doubt it. You haven’t spoken in five years, and you’ve both changed a lot. I have to go, Aang wants me to meet another stray dog, and we still have lunch with Yue, so I can’t let him get too carried away. I’ll text you details about Zuko’s place. Please at least look into it, Sokka.”

Her eyes were too genuine; he couldn’t say no. “Fine,” he grumbled, fully prepared to briefly skim over the information before moving on.

But when he did look it over, he saw that Katara was right. It was perfect. He could even walk to work if he wanted to, it was that close. The rent was well in his budget, even leaving extra leftover. He could maybe finally replace his cracked phone screen! Sokka sighed at the dim light of his laptop. The fates were telling him something. It sounded like, You will consciously choose the path of suffering, ahahahahaha.

“Sokka... wants to be my new roommate,” Zuko said.

“Hello to you too, angsty pants,” Toph replied through the phone.

“I think I’m going to say yes,” continued Zuko.

“Wait, Sokka? Katara’s brother?”

Zuko swallowed, eyes flicking to the stir fry he’d left on the stove. He’d been checking the notifications on his phone when he saw it and had immediately called Toph. “Yes.”

“Okay,” Toph offered helpfully.

“What do you think?”

Silence fell for a few seconds as Toph thought it through. “Are you sure it’s a good idea?”

“That’s what I’m asking you for. If he’s reaching out, he knows it’s me, so he can’t still hate me, right?”

“I don’t know,” said Toph. “Don’t you like him?”

Zuko bit his lip and weakly stirred his stir fry. “But it’s not like I’m still—I’m not hopelessly into him. It’s just. You know, a little bit.”

“You’re not even going to interview him? What if he poops with the door open? What if he… what if he eats in the bathroom while he poops.”

“Would I ask him about that in an interview?”

“If you’re not a coward.”

“Okay, I’ll interview him,” Zuko said, relenting. “What do I have to lose?”

To: Katara

Sokka: uuugughghgghghhhhhhh zuko wants to interview me

Katara: You looked into the place!!!

Sokka: yeah but i’m seriously doubting myself now

Sokka: can i really pretend not to hate him long enough to get the place

Katara: Have you considered just

Katara: Not hating him?

Sokka: …

Sokka: how could you even say that

Katara: Ok I thought so

Katara: Well just be professional if you don’t wanna be friendly

Katara: Pretend it’s a job interview

Sokka: oh yeah

Sokka: because imagining that zuko is my employer would definitely not make me hate him 400% more

Katara: On the bright side, you haven’t reached the threshold of hate yet if it can be increased by 400%! There is hope

Sokka: ha

Sokka: i scoff in the face of hope

Sokka let Suki pick out an outfit for him before going to meet Zuko at the cafe they agreed to meet at. He wanted to look nice so that Zuko, at least visually, might be inclined to let him become a flatmate, but mostly he just didn’t want Zuko to have the upper hand anywhere, not even in his fashion sense. And Zuko had grown up with money, so he’d always been well dressed.

Sokka slipped the chosen tan sweater over his button down and pulled on a pair of black jeans. The clothes covered all his tattoos—he was sure Zuko would not appreciate them. His hair, he couldn’t do much about, so he settled for tying it back as he always did.

He was so distracted throughout the train ride thinking about all the valid reasons he had to hate Zuko that he almost forgot to get off at the right stop. But the walk from the station was short, and before he knew it, he was opening glass doors, scanning faces, and—there he was. Hair hanging in his face, chin on his palm, and wearing—a hoodie and ripped jeans? Sokka cleared his mind of surprise and tried to relax his face.

He walked over.

To: Toph

Zuko: It went well?

Toph: Be more specific

Toph: For example, what went well

Zuko: The interview with Sokka

Zuko: I’m pretty sure he doesn’t shit with the door open, and he definitely doesn’t eat in the bathroom

Zuko: He was also

Zuko: really nice

Toph: Really nice to talk to? Or really nice looking?

Zuko: Shut up

Toph: Hm deflection

Zuko: I think you’re wrong

Zuko: I think it won’t be hard to live with him

To: Katara

Sokka: GEEZ THAT WAS SO HARD

Sokka: the whole time he’s being this stiff, boring, JERK

Sokka: i had to smile and nod the whole time

Sokka: no way will this keep up if we live together

Sokka: but i have to think of the commute…..

Sokka: and the view….

Sokka: and i’ll be closer to suki….

Katara: But Sokka, you will try, right?

Sokka: try what

Katara: To be nice to him.

Sokka: uh

Sokka: maybe?

By the end of the next week, Sokka had moved in the last of his boxes. He honestly didn’t have that much stuff. He did have one special thing, though. Or rather, a special friend.

“What are you doing?” Zuko asked, peeking into Sokka’s new room.

Swallowing his annoyance at being interrupted, Sokka gestured for Zuko to join him. They’d only exchanged at most a few sentences a day, and Zuko hadn’t done anything too irritating yet, so Sokka was going to try to keep his promise to Katara.

“This is my turtle, Duck,” he said, pointing to the turtle swimming around in the tank he’d just finished setting back up.

“What’s a turtleduck?” asked Zuko after plopping down beside him.

Sokka frowned. “I don’t know.”

“Then why do you have one?”

Before Sokka could answer, his phone rung from the dresser, its vibration so strong the whole room shook and Duck popped into his shell.

#zukka #atla #avatar the last airbender #zukka fic #writing #atla fic #zukka fanfic #enemies to friends to lovers #zukka modern au #roommate au #sorry idk how to format these i've never posted writing on tumblr before

123 notes · View notes

the-iceni-bitch · 3 years

Text

Happy Fucking New Year!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Words: 5071

Summary: You and Bucky spend New Year’s Eve together in Paris!

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content (oral sex (F receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, anal play, cum eating), explicit descriptions of violence, minor character death, SMUT, 18+ only!!!

A/N: Well, my grandma ass passed out while literally writing this fic last night at like 10PM so sorry it’s late! But it’s still New Year’s Day so whatever. It’s kinda fun, I definitely enjoy having Bucky and Sam be complete idiots while our poor reader is the only one with common sense, so you may be seeing a lot of those two fucking things up in this series. Join my taglist here if you’re inclined and a Happy New Year to all you lovely hoes!

“Damn, Barnes. Look at your ass in that tux.”

He choked on his champagne when you snuck up behind him, grabbing one ass cheek and giving it a squeeze before he had a chance to turn around.

He didn’t know how you always managed to catch him off guard. He was used to being able to pick up on any threat immediately, but you were always able to slip under his defenses.

The expression that came over his face when he finally saw you was priceless. You loved surprising him with shockingly revealing outfits, offending those sweet old man sensibilities he pretended to have in public. But you knew exactly what he was thinking as his eyes drank you in.

The gown you had picked was a deep blue velvet that hugged your curves. While the skirt was tight against your legs, it still could’ve possibly been considered modest. The top though…. The v of the neck wasn’t as deep as your usual style, but the back dipped so low he wondered how you could possibly be wearing panties. All he could think of was snapping those thin straps with his vibranium hand and watching the fabric slide over your soft skin before it pooled around your ankles.

He couldn’t believe the two of you were spending New Year’s Eve in Paris. You’d barely had a chance to speak to each other after your tryst in Stockholm, and now you were together in the city of lights on one of the most romantic nights of the year.

“Hey, Barnes, you still in there?”

“Yeah, sweetheart.” He grinned at you as he watched you take a sip of champagne. “Just wondering where you’re hiding your knives in that dress?”

“Mmm, if this night goes according to plan, maybe I’ll let you look for them later.” You teased him, giving him a wink as you walked your fingers across his chest.

“Alright, that’s enough. You two promised to cool it with the kinky shit over comms.”

The two of you turned to shrug apologetically at Sam, who was glaring murderously at you from across the foyer.

“Sorry Sammy.” You whispered, tittering to yourself.

“Yeah, sorry Sammy.” Bucky gave him a stupid grin as the three of you started slowly moving to one the hallways leading to the main building.

“You don’t get to call me that, Barnes. You keep getting me into these fucking stupid situations, and your poor girlfriend always has to get us out. We were almost home, man, and you just had to follow that shady fucker at the airport.”

“No, he was following me. And anyways, I was right about him. I told you HYDRA had various goon squads lurking around.”

“You guessed.”

“I guessed right.”

“So, you admit it, you guessed!”

“Hey, boys!” You furrowed your brow as you turned to glare at the two of them, a little annoyed at the bickering. “Isn’t there supposed to be a door here?”

They finally shut up and followed your line of sight to where all the intelligence indicated the access door to the arsenal should be located.

Bucky let out a deep sigh and clenched his jaw, his eyes moving up the wall until they found the tiny hatch in the corner, fifteen feet off the floor. He turned his head to Sam and growled.

“You were in charge of reconnaissance. Do you not know the difference between a door and a hatch? Do your little robot minions not know how to take measurements?”

“Hey, don’t blame the robots man! This was based on human intelligence, which I’m pretty sure is your responsibility.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

You ground your teeth together as you listened to the two of them, not sure how you were able to put up with this shit. You took in your surroundings, trying to figure out a way through this situation.

“Well one of us has to get up there.” You murmured to yourself.

“I nominate robot boy.”

“Ok, ya know what, they’re not robots. I might’ve been able to let it go but, heh, I can’t. They’re drones. And if you think me buzzing one of those through the party out there is inconspicuous…”

“Oh, not one of your robots, you. What if I throw you at the hatch?”

One glance at him let you know he was seriously considering throwing your friend at the hatch. You rolled your eyes as you slipped out of your pumps.

“Ok, now you’re trying to piss me off, I just told you they were drones. And you are not throwing me at that tiny door. It’s not even open.”

“Well, if I throw you hard enough, that won’t matter.”

“It’s a solid steel door, dumbass. And I’m pretty sure it opens outward. I vote we come back later with some tools.”

“We’re on a timetable. I say we settle this with some old-fashioned rock, paper, scissors.”

“Um, no, you cheat.”

“How can you cheat at rock, paper, scissors?”

You did your best to tune them out as you stretched, sighing as you gathered your dress up over your thighs and grumbling to yourself about ruining another outfit.

“I don’t know, but you do. Ok, if you use your normal hand, maybe that’ll work.”

“Whatever, I’ll still win.”

You walked back down the hall, then turned and sprinted past the two of them, vaulting off one leg when you reached the corner and using your momentum to spring yourself off the wall until you were able to brace yourself in the tiny alcove next to the hatch.

“Could one of you toss me the laser driver from my clutch?” You called down to them, now that they had finally stopped their incessant arguing.

Sam grinned up at you as he picked your clutch off the ground, tossing the driver to you when he found it.

“Man, every time.” He shook his head at Bucky as you started working on dismantling the door. “I don’t know how your dumbass has survived this long without us, Barnes. You can’t just punch your way through everything.”

“I’m sorry, ‘us’? Seems like she’s doing all the work while you’re just bossy.”

“Can you two just give it a rest? I’m in.” You pulled the hatch open and slid through it, hanging over the edge by your fingertips for just a second before softly dropping on the balls of your feet on the other side. “Fuck, that’s a lot of bombs.”

“What kinds of bombs?” Sam asked over the comms, all business now.

“Well, I’m not an expert, but this sure looks like tesseract related tech to me.”

“Shit.” Bucky hissed. “Any way to disarm?”

“Well, probably, sweetie, but there’s at least 100 of these fuckers, and I don’t really feel like spending all of New Year’s Eve playing ‘which wire?’”

“Alright, just give us a second.”

You heard a yelp from outside and all of a sudden Sam’s torso came flying through the open hatch, his hips catching on the edge.

“Did he just throw you?” You asked, not bothering to hide the grin that spread over you face as Sam looked for something to swing down with. You dragged over an empty shelf and he pulled himself through, climbing down gingerly to come stand beside you.

“Your boyfriend is a fucking menace.” He grumbled, brushing some debris off his shoulders. He whistled through his teeth when he got a good look at the stockpile you had uncovered. “Shit.”

“Fuck me.” Bucky murmured, suddenly behind the two of you, making Sam jump.

“Goddamn it Barnes, why you gotta always be so stealthy?”

“Maybe you just need to pay better attention, what if I’d been a goon?”

“You are a goon.”

“Oh my god, I cannot do another round of this. Sam, can you call this in please? Maybe Sharon will have some idea of what to do about the massive pile of shit we just stepped in.”

“Fine, Y/N. I’ll call the boss.”

You went to examine the bombs more closely. They all seemed to have remote triggers, but you didn’t want to take the chance that they were volatile, so you resisted the urge to pick one up.

“Yeah, this is definitely tesseract tech.” Bucky muttered, and your heart jumped into your throat when you turned to see him tossing one of the bombs into the air and catching it again in his vibranium hand.

“Motherfucker put that down you idiot! What if there had been a pressure sensor?”

Bucky stared at you for a second, then back at the bomb in his hand. “Right, whoops.” He placed it back on the pile gingerly and gave you a sheepish grin.

“I swear to god, the two of you are going to end up getting me killed.”

“Ok, boss said they have a remote drone about one minute out that should have the ability to disarm these. She just wanted us to open the skylight for it.”

“The what?” You hissed at him.

“Uh….”

“There’s a fucking skylight?” You looked up and scoffed, seeing a very large window right there in the ceiling.

“Nice, Wilson.” Bucky just shook his head at him.

“Fuck you, Barnes! You didn’t know about it either.”

“No more! One of you morons get up there and open it!” You were seething. “You’re lucky I like the two of you or I swear to god, I would stab the both of you right now.”

“Alright, rock, paper, scissors?”

“No!! Bucky, just fucking do it.” You screwed your eyes shut and pressed your fingers into the peaks of your eyebrows.

“You got it, beautiful. You’re so cute when you’re mad… shit.”

He had to scramble up one of the shelves as you tried to charge at him, but Sam was able to hold you back at the last second.

“Ok, let’s all just take some deep breaths. It’s all good. The drones on the way. We didn’t have to fight anyone. And there’s still 25 minutes until midnight, so we’ll all get to toast the new year.”

Right as he uttered that last word, a large door on the opposite end of the room opened, and three goons carrying large guns entered.

“Goddamn it, Wilson, you jinxed us. And look, another fucking door!”

“Yeah, they do seem to be popping up everywhere.” He muttered under his breath. “Hey, fellas, we were just…. god, y’know what, I’m too tired to come up with something. Should we just fight?”

You sneered at him before hefting one of the bombs and chucking at the head of one of the guards, hitting him right between the eyes and knocking him out.

“OOHH! What if that had gone off?” Sam yelled at you as you charged the two standing goons who were still standing, diving at the last second to roll one of them over your shoulder.

“Oh, so only you and grandpa are allowed to make stupid decisions, then?” You said, pulling out a knife from under your skirt and trying to stab the guard who was still standing. You were just a little too slow and he dodged you, making you hiss. “Do you mind giving me a hand?”

“Shit, right.” He found a metal pipe leaning against the corner and walked over to where the first guard was starting to come to his senses, bringing it around in an arc to crash against his chin, knocking him out again.

“Drone’s here! Aww man, you guys started a fight without me?” Bucky had climbed back down to find the two of you grappling with your respective opponents.

He walked over and punched the asshole that had Sam in a chokehold in the face with his vibranium fist, feeling a satisfying crunch as he went down. Bucky started to stride over to give you a hand as Sam tried to catch his breath when you suddenly drove your knife up under your opponent’s ribs, giving it a twist before you withdrew it.

“Y’know,” He murmured as he watched you bend over to clean off the blade on the dead man’s jacket. “I’m a little mad at you now. I was looking forward to looking for that later tonight.” He grinned at you, nodding at the knife in your hand as you drew up your skirt to return it to the sheath on your thigh.

“Don’t worry sweetie, there’s plenty hiding under here for you to discover.” You teased him as he pulled you to him, pressing a deep kiss to your lips and moaning against your mouth. He always got so worked up after watching you fight.

“Ugh, I’m still here, you freaks!”

“Shit, sorry Sam!” You flashed an apologetic grin at your friend as he glared at you. Bucky was pulling at the front of his pants and screwing his eyes closed as he tried to fight his obvious erection.

“There’s something wrong with you two.” He muttered under his breath as he started climbing the shelves to leave through the skylight.

The drone had done its job. All the indicator lights on the bombs were off, showing there were no longer armed. You gave a small sigh of satisfaction before looking up at the skylight.

“Gimme a boost, Buck.”

“Yep.” He hooked his hands under one of your heels and grinned to himself as he brought his arms up a little faster than you had intended, flinging you up to the roof in one swift motion and making you yelp.

“You’re such a dick!” You shouted down to him as he started to climb out after you, making him laugh. “What time is it Sam?”

“Hey, we’ve still got 10 minutes to midnight!” He said, giving you a grin.

“Ooh, think we can make it back?”

“Yeah, it’s just a couple rooftops over! Barnes, move your ass!”

Bucky was just climbing onto the roof as you and Sam started jogging towards the adjacent building and cursed under his breath as he clambered to follow you.

Sam let out a whoop as he leaped between the buildings, one of his drones catching him halfway and carrying him to the other side.

“Oh my god was that waiting out here the whole time?” You scolded him as he swooped back to lift you across the gap, depositing you softly on the next roof.

“Yeah, why are you surprised?”

You just gave him a laugh as Bucky flung himself over the space between the structures, rolling in his landing and scowling at the two of you when he regained his feet.

“No thanks, I don’t need any help.” He growled at Sam, voice dripping with sarcasm as he brushed some pebbles off the shoulder of his tux jacket.

“You’re fine.” Sam waved a dismissive hand as the three of you walked to the next edge, which led to your hotel.

You dropped down first to the ledge that was 10 feet below, landing on the balls of your feet and twisting just a bit to gain your balance before you started gliding towards the window to your room.

“You good, Y/N?” Sam called as they watched you crouch as much as you could when you reached the end of the ledge.

“She’s got it.” Bucky muttered as you uncurled your body like a whip, shooting across the gap between the two buildings, latching onto the buttress above your window as you stretched down, your toes reaching for the lower sill. You found your purchase and released one hand to draw the window open, then slipped inside easily. “See?” He gave Sam a grin as he moved to follow you.

It only took the two of them a minute to join you, and you met them with champagne and a pleased smile on your face.

“Hello boys, just in time for the countdown!”

You passed out the drinks and took one for yourself before the three of you headed out to the small balcony that was around the corner from the window you had entered through.

“And 5, 4, 3, 2, 1! Happy New Year!” The three of you shouted.

You heard the city erupt in cheers and fireworks started exploding over the Eiffel tower. Bucky set his champagne flute down and drew you into his arms, bringing one hand up to cradle the back of your head as he pressed his lips to yours. You sighed as you opened up to him, welcoming the crisp taste of champagne on his tongue as he curled it against yours.

“Ooookay, that is my cue to leave.” Sam said, downing the rest of his drink and avoiding making eye contact with either of you as he made his exit.

“Mmm, Happy New Year, Sammy!” You called after him. Bucky just waved a hand at him as his mouth moved down to your neck, his lips trailing over your throat as his other hand pressed against the small of your back.

“Just, remember to take out your comms, I’m begging you.” Sam said before shutting the door behind him.

“Fuck, right.” You plucked yours out of your ear and set it next to your glass as Bucky drew you back into the room, sucking on the curve of your shoulder softly. He released you for just a second to remove his own comm and closed the door to the balcony before turning back to you.

“Oh, that fucking dress.” He growled as he took you in, his eyes dark with desire. “You know, I’ve been wanting to peel you out of that thing all night, you damn cock tease.”

You stepped into him and pressed your hand against the bulge in his pants as you nipped at his bottom lip. “Mmm, your always so good to me when I tease you though, baby. I can’t help it.” You moved your hands up to start undoing his tie. “Besides, I don’t know how you can blame me for teasing you when you’re walking around in this tux. I’ve been wet all night.” You whipped the tie off and started working on the buttons of his shirt as you took his earlobe between your lips and sucked on it.

His hands moved to your ass and squeezed as he ground his hips against you, making you gasp. “Don’t tell me that unless you want me to do something about it. Fuck, are you even wearing anything under here?”

You slid his jacket off his shoulders and followed it with his shirt, running your fingers over his bare torso before starting to undo his belt. “Why don’t you get it off me and find out?” You purred, gazing up at him through your lashes as you drew the belt through the loops and moved to unbutton his fly.

He leered at you and brought his hands up to your shoulders, running the thin straps of your gown through his fingers before snapping them easily. He sighed as he watched the material slither over your curves and pool at your feet. “I fucking knew it.”

You were completely bare under his gaze, aside from the two knife belts you had around your thighs, each of which contained 2 blades.

“Damn it, Barnes.” You scolded him.

“What?”

“Could we have one night where you don’t end up ruining at least one expensive item of clothing?” You sighed, bending over to pick up the dress and shooting him a soft look of reproval.

“Shit, baby. I’m sorry. I get too excited.” He did feel a little bad, but every time you wore something like that, all he could think of was ripping it off you.

“Well, now you’ll just have to make it up to me.” You teased, tossing the dress aside and drawing him closer.

“Yes, ma’am.” He murmured as his fingers moved to start undoing the belts around your thighs. He brushed his lips against the small hollow beneath your ear as he worked, flicking his tongue over the sensitive skin there as his fingers brushed over your legs, making your pussy clench around nothing. “You want me to show you how sorry I am with my tongue?” He set aside the two belts and moved a hand to cup your sex, groaning at how warm and wet he found you.

“God, just fucking do it.” You hissed as he teased a finger between your folds, barely brushing against your heat before withdrawing again.

“Well, since you asked so nicely…” He picked you up and carried you a few feet to lay you on the dining room table, kicking the chairs out of the way with a clatter.

He gave you a searing kiss, taking your breath with him when he withdrew to kneel between your thighs. His stubble tickled at your skin as he moved his lips and tongue up your inner thigh at an agonizing pace, moving to the other thigh when he had almost reached your cunt and making you whine.

“I’m so sorry I ruined your dress, pretty girl.” He finally dragged his tongue over your slit and you let out a low moan, your fingers burying themselves in his hair as he repeated the motion. “Wish I could promise it won’t happen again, but this pussy does things to me.”

He pressed the flat of his tongue against you and drew it over your entrance heavily, slurping up all the evidence of your arousal with an obscene sound before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. The whimper you let out made his cock twitch as your thighs clenched around his shoulders, drawing him into you even further.

“God, Bucky, right there.” You murmured as he increased the pressure on your bundle of nerves and inserted two fingers into your cunt, moaning at the feeling of your satiny walls clenching around him. He curled them just a bit and you wailed, arching your back into him as you started whispering “please” over and over like a prayer.

He grinned against you as he shook his head slightly, pressing himself even further into your heat and lapping up the juices that leaked from you as he fucked you with his fingers.

He added a third finger and crooked his wrist just slightly and that was it. Every muscle in your body went rigid as you came against his face, soaking him in your release as you clamped down on his fingers and sobbed with pleasure. You released him slightly, only to spasm again from the aftershocks as your muscles quivered around him. He finally managed to draw himself away and stood between your legs, grinning down as he watched you come down from your orgasm, shivering occasionally as a random jolt of pleasure shot through you.

“You think you can forgive me?” He asked wickedly as he finished undoing his slacks and slid them over his hips, followed by his boxer briefs. He drew his hand over his length as he waited for you to answer, nudging the tip of his cock against your folds and making you yelp.

“Fuck, yes. God Bucky.” You sat up and wrapped your hands around his neck, bringing his face to yours violently. You ground your hips against him, groaning as you felt his shaft slide through your slick easily. He started to lift you to bring you to the bedroom and you shook your head a bit before releasing him. “No, I need it now.”

He grinned at you as he teased his head against your clit, making you whine. “You want me to fuck you right here on the table?”

“God, yes please. Gimme that cock. I need you inside me.” It was driving you crazy. You brought a hand between the two of you and wrapped it around him, making him hiss as you lined him up. “I want you to split me open then fuck me until I can’t breathe.”

He let out a low growl from deep in his chest. He loved when you talked like this. He pushed into slowly with a groan until he was sheathed to the hilt, relishing in the feel of you clenching around him. “Fuck baby, you feel so good. So tight and warm. What else you want me to do to you?” He started moving his hips slowly, grinding them against you each time he was bottomed out.

“Shit,” You were panting with need as he moved inside you, his cock dragging against your g-spot over and over and making it hard to think. “I want your mouth on my tits. God, just like that.” He was following your instructions beautifully, dragging his tongue over the inner slope of your breast as his hips kept up their slow pace. “Fuck, baby, suck on my nipples now.”

He did as you asked, swirling his tongue over the sensitive buds as his lips closed around them, sucking softly and making you whine. He’d always been good at following orders.

“Mmm, move faster.” You commanded, wrapping your fingers in his hair as he continued lavishing attention on your breasts.

He obliged easily, picking up the pace until he was slamming into you, knocking the breath out of you. You met each of his thrusts with your own, mewling as you felt a coil starting to knot in your abdomen.

“God, I’m gonna cum.” You whined.

One more drive of his hips and the coil broke, making you scream. Your fingernails dug into his scalp as you went stiff for just a beat before everything released. He smiled into your neck as you vibrated against him, panting heavily as you came down.

He kept fucking into you like a man possessed. He brought his mouth back up to yours and kissed you softly as he felt you relax a bit. “Did I do good, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, baby, you did great.” You laughed into his mouth as he kept moving.

“You’re in charge, pretty girl. What do you want now?”

“God, work my clit. Fuck, just like that.” You were having trouble focusing as he did what you asked. “I need your mouth on my neck. Hngh, Bucky! That’s so good.”

“What else, beautiful?” he grinned against your throat, loving how easily you were coming apart around him. He picked up the pace with his hips a little more and felt you flutter around him.

“Shit, stick your thumb up my ass.”

He was not prepared for that and his hips faltered for a bit. He whipped his head up to stare at you as he regained his composure.

“What?”

“Ahh, fuck.” You were just a little embarrassed. You usually liked to ramp up to this type of thing, and especially with Bucky, you had wanted go really slow with this particular kink. You didn’t know how much of a thing anal play had been in the 40s. “Um, you can forget I said that.”

To your surprise, he broke out into an absolutely sinful grin and gave you a savage kiss as he laid you back on the table, stilling his hips but keeping himself sheathed in you as he drew your knees up to your shoulders.

“I’ve been dreaming about this ass, baby.” He said as he started moving his hips again, dragging his thumb through the slick that was leaking out around his cock and moving it down until it was pressing against your pretty hole, making you gasp.

“Bucky, don’t tease me.”

“Thinking about this tight little hole wrapped around my cock, I was worried you’d never let me in.” You moaned as he pressed himself through the tight ring of muscle and your eyes rolled up into your skull as you arched yourself into him. “But here you are, giving me a fucking invitation.”

He gave a groan when both your holes clenched around him, and he felt his cock moving in your cunt with his thumb through the thin lining between your passages. He drew himself out halfway and slammed back into violently, the tip of him barely kissing your cervix and making you whine.

His fingers on your clit pressed down hard and you flew apart around him, your orgasm ripping through you with abandon. The scream you let out was otherworldly as you creamed all over his cock.

The sight of you writhing beneath him sent him over his own edge and he shouted your name as his cum spurted inside of you, coating your walls and his dick as he collapsed on top of you.

You were still trembling as aftershocks rippled through your body. He kissed your neck and pulled out of you gently. You barely noticed, you were so fucked out.

“Shit sweetheart.” He muttered as he drew himself up. “This body treats me so fucking good. Damn, look at that.” He drew your knees apart and stared appreciatively at you pussy, still clenching as you came down. His cum was slowly leaking out of you and dribbling over your puckered hole. “Let’s clean you up.”

You had expected him to go get a towel, but he knelt down and dragged his tongue over first your asshole, then your slit, making you sob as he lapped up the mixture of your releases. When he drew his tongue over your clit, you came again immediately, it was so overstimulated.

“Fuck, you ok, Y/N?” He hadn’t expected you to be that sensitive and was worried he might have overdone it. He brought himself back up to look you in the eyes, cupping one cheek in the palm of his hand as he studied your face with concern.

“God, Bucky, I’m fucking great.” You gave him a sloppy grin as you stared up at him, turning your head to press a kiss into the palm of his hand. “I don’t think I can walk though.” Your legs were jelly.

He just laughed and scooped you into his arms, carrying you into the bedroom and laying on the bed. He covered you with the sheets and pressed a soft kiss to your temple before heading into the bathroom to clean himself up. He was only gone for a minute before he was sliding behind you and wrapping you in his arms.

“Happy New Year, beautiful.” He whispered into your hair as you drifted off to sleep, drowsy now that you were surrounded with his warmth.

“Happy fucking New Year, Bucky.” You murmured before you dozed off, blissfully satisfied.

Permanent Tags:

@drabblewithfrannybarnes @starlightcrystalline @stargazingfangirl18 @buckysnumberonegirl

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #sebastian stan #seb stan #bucky barnes smut #smut #marvel fanfiction #marvel #fanfic #fanfiction #eighteen plus

610 notes · View notes

justcourttee · 3 years

Note

New idea!!! Could you write a story where Mari and Tim are full-blooded siblings except Mari was taken away from the Drakes. Mari would be Dick's age in this. The Drake's finally pass away so Bruce goes to adopt Tim but he's having trouble because Marinette is doing the same. It's a custody battle. Tim is confused because he doesn't know Mari (she was taken away before she was born and CPS wasn't dealing with that family again) but Mari knows about him. Maybe Dick/Mari?

I have a feeling I took this in a different direction than you meant for it to be, but I hope you still like it :) @elements1999

Tim’s Decision

There were two things that Timothy Jackson Drake was sure of.

One, that he had never seen Dick so flustered before in his life. The poor guy was tripping over his own feet, stumbling into the court hallway as if he had been drinking all morning, his face resembling something close to the apple Bruce forced him to eat for breakfast.

And the second, well, he was sure he had never met someone as persistently, annoyingly, upbeat as Dick Grayson until seconds ago when she reached out her hand to introduce herself.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I’m sorry we have to meet under these circumstances, Timothy. This isn’t my first time reaching out, but it certainly is my first time getting through. Maybe after this, we can grab a bite to eat, get to know each other?”

Tim slightly withdrew his hand, reaching out to steady a swaying Dick. He wanted to ask him what could’ve warranted this behavior from him, but he wasn’t sure he was prepared to hear the answer.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng-”

“Please, call me Marinette! I’m not married, nor am I a middle-aged woman. I’m only 21 after all. You’re 14, right Timothy?”

“If I call you by your name, call me Tim. Timothy sounds like a rich brat.”

Marinette’s giggle earned a small smile from the boy. He had no idea who she was, but her presence was soothing and he didn’t feel any immediate danger. Besides, she wasn’t the first person to approach him in the past week. News of his parent’s death traveled very quickly and many people attempted to adopt him in hopes that his fortune would be theirs.

Bruce was quick to wave them off, offering to adopt Tim himself, but before Tim could even think about accepting, CPS contacted Bruce with the proposal from one Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

“I hadn’t realized that Bruce Wayne had caught your attention. I really want to make sure that you are able to have a regular childhood or at least some resemblance of a few normal years. If you think Bruce is a better option for you, I promise I’ll pull out right now, but if you have any doubts at all, I want to let you know that I want to fight for you, Tim.”

“I haven’t made any decisions yet and considering Bruce let me meet with you, I have to assume you’re not after my parent’s fortune.”

Marinette’s smile tightened at the mention of the fortune or was it his parents? He couldn’t tell. She was definitely holding something back, but they had just met and he wasn’t in any position to be pressuring her for some answers. What he was in the position to do was knock some sense into a now drooling Dick Grayson.

“Knock it off will you, you’re heavy and gross. You’re making a fool of the Wayne name and aren’t you supposed to be my guardian today?”

Dick muttered out something that sounded like an okay, but if Tim was honest, he wasn’t sure it was anything more than a few syllables to lower his guard.

“This is what Bruce considers a capable guardian? I’m not sure I trust him as far as I could throw him. What can it do?”

Marinette reached forward, poking Dick’s cheek, enough force to snap him out of whatever daze he had been in the past hour.

“Dick Grayson-Wayne ma’am, a pleasure to meet you.” Instantly he bowed, his hand extended as if he were waiting for something that wouldn’t come.

“Mhmm, so you are Bruce’s ward? You look like you could be his blood child. Does he have a thing for dark hair and light eyes? Creepy.”

Dick’s hand clutched his chest as if he had been struck directly in his core. Marinette turned her attention from him and back to where Tim stood.

“Anyways, I believe we mentioned lunch earlier. I’ve already submitted my application to CPS and after this formal meeting, you’re free to meet up with me whenever you would like as long as a third party comes with us. Can you think of anyone you want to come with us?”

Tim glanced to the side where he could feel Dick’s puppy eyes boring into him. He wouldn’t be his first choice but if it came down to him of Jaime, he was pretty sure he had a better chance of reigning in Dick.

“Do you mind if Dick comes with us?”

Marinette’s smile was shaken with uncertainty as if she was thinking of protesting but didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. Tim felt terrible putting her in the position but he was sure that Dick was her best chance given his options. “Of course not, where would you like to go?”

The lunch moved smoothly with Tim learning so much about her. She was originally from the Gotham foster system herself, but a young couple who couldn’t have kids adopted her at a younger age, moving her to Paris with them. She attended the equivalent of middle and high school over there where she met many lifelong friends. Starting late in her middle school years, she upstarted a fashion business where she had several big-name clients months into her start-up. Now she made personal designs, but many were taken care of by her team. She only stitched a very few commissions for close personal friends.

She was remarkable, someone who truly started from nothing. His parents did something similar as did Bruce’s. It was something he wanted for himself, something he wasn’t sure he could ever achieve with either his or Bruce’s fortune.

The custody battle was put on hold at Tim’s request. He was really intrigued by Marinette and Bruce pressuring him to take his time and really think over his choices finally led him to that decision. However, no matter how much Bruce tried to be a neutral party in the matter, Tim could feel the strain it put on their work relationship.

The more he saw Marinette, the more mess-ups occurred on patrol. Bruce would constantly tread into Tim’s area, always dropping in on his battles. It was as if he lost all trust in Tim as if he was trying to rely less on him, trying to go back to doing things on his own.

It was so frustrating. No matter how many times he told Bruce that he could still be Robin no matter who he chose, it seemed to mean nothing to him. He continually waved him off, claiming to have no idea what he was talking about.

A month after he met Marinette, Tim snuck out for the first time, begging her to meet him at a coffee shop near her hotel.

“Tim, this is dangerous. If CPS finds out we meet behind Bruce’s back, it could nullify my application.”

“I know, I know.” His head dropped to the table, buried in his arms trying to suffocate his frustration. “I just needed to get away from all of them. I think the fact that I consider you a serious option really upsets Bruce. It’s not that I don’t consider him a serious option as well, it’s just-he’s just-”

Tim let out a sigh, slowly sitting back up unsure where his thoughts were taking him.

“Tim,” Marinette reached across the table, laying her hand on his arm. “if this is too stressful for you, I can pull out of this.”

Her touch was so gentle, so soothing. It felt like the mother he never had, the kind of mother he yearned for but never realized. He really didn’t want her to leave his life just because he couldn’t give up being Robin.

“I just feel so selfish,” his vision started to blur, Marinette’s figure coming in and out of focus. “I want to keep the life I’ve made for myself here, but I also don’t feel like I can grow the way I want to under Bruce’s supervision.”

Marinette didn’t say anything for a moment, she just allowed him to cry, her thumb moving in small circles on his arm. Tim reveled in the feeling, reveled in the silence. He hadn’t had this in a while, he hadn’t had comfort for as long as he could remember. Even at his parent’s funeral, people just commented on how strong he was and how smart he was and told him he would be just fine. Not once did anyone try to hug him or ask if he was okay. They just assumed.

Everyone always just assumed.

“Tim, I haven’t been 100% honest with you since I met you. I didn’t want it to mess with your decision, but I think it’s time you knew.”

“I already know.” Tim moved his arms from her touch, his heart throbbing from the loss of touch. “I did my research on you, especially considering how Bruce let me meet you so quickly. You’ve done a lot of work to bury it, but the Will mentioned you, or at least your old name.”

Marinette’s smile was tight, her eyes as watery as his.

“Is that what’s holding you back from making the decision you want to make?”

Tim wanted to deny that he had no clear choice, but that was a lie he had been feeding himself. He wanted to stay with Bruce, in Gotham. His life was here, his friends were here, his passions were here. The only thing that wasn’t, was her.

“I want Bruce to be my official guardian. I want to be Tim Drake-Wayne.” Marinette nodded, understanding pouring from her and crashing into him. He felt like all the stress from the past month had been pushed out and replaced with relief. “But I really did want to get to know you, I didn’t want to make a decision because you would be out of my life for good. I’ve already lost you once, CPS took you didn’t they?”

“Right before mom became pregnant with you. I’m sure it happened to you too, but I was only six. They left me alone, not even a butler or maid to watch after me. They tried to argue with CPS that I was a competent child who could handle groceries and looking after myself but they didn’t buy it. My existence hadn’t even been released to the public so they didn’t take it too hard, losing me that is. But you, they immediately brought you into the limelight, almost like a challenge to CPS, I’m assuming that’s why they didn’t get involved for you no matter how many times my parent’s called and reported them.”

Tim couldn’t help the chuckle that bubbled out. It seemed to have shocked Marinette too as she gave way to her own giggle threatening to spill.

“Marinette, can I ask you something selfish?”

“Of course, mon frère.” Her hand reached back across the table, gripping his tightly as if pressing him to ask the question he dreaded most.

“Will you still be apart of my life? I’m not asking you to move to Gotham, but maybe a monthly trip? A weekly dinner? Something? I just don’t want to lose you again.”

The tears that had been pooling in her eyes finally slipped free, her smile blinding.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“Bruce, Marinette is coming over for game night tonight!”

“Marinette?” Dick’s head popped around the corner, the red plastered by the mere mention of her name. It sickened Tim. “But I have patrol tonight! Bruce can’t the police do their jobs for one night!”

Bruce chuckled as he set up the table, a stack of every board game imaginable piled in the middle.

“I suppose you can push it back from 11 to 5 to 2 to 5. After all, I’m not heartless.”

Tim let out an involuntary groan as he slipped into the couch, wishing it would swallow him whole.

“Whose side are you on here Bruce? She’s already your honorable daughter. Do you really need her to be part of your legal family that bad?”

“I haven’t the slightest clue what you mean.” His smirk only made Tim want to fold in on himself even more.

“Bruce, if you’re gonna set me up, can it at least be with Tim’s more attractive siblings? Like what about that Jason guy? Or Barbara Gordan?” Tim popped up in his seat, a smile beaming from ear to ear.

“Marinette’s here!” He waved her over to the seat beside him before a certain older lovebird could intervene.

“I am attractive! Why won’t you accept me Marinette?” Dick wiped away fake tears as he fell dramatically to the floor by her feet.

Tim could feel his heart overflowing for the first time in years. His life felt so fulfilled, like all of the missing pieces finally found a place. As the night continued on, only one thought stayed prominent in his mind.

He couldn’t be happier with his decision.

Permanent Tag List:

@ash-amg @rebecarojas07 @heaven428 @long-lost-peace @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @moongoddesskiana @nach0ava @iamablinkmarvelarmy @seraphkitty @clumsy-owl-4178 @pawsitivelymiraculous @mialuvscats @leagrey @smolplantmum @animegirlweeb @glitterflowercat @ladybug-182 @maskedpainter @remy-289 @redbullgivescaswings @icerosecrystal

#maribat #timinette siblings #dickinette

296 notes · View notes

sailorshadzter · 3 years

Text

a random one shot in which i twist the entire plot of game of thrones just because i can.

inspired by the prompt: a kiss to your lover's knuckle before a dance.

dont ask me how THIS came from that, it just did LOL

He finds her among the others, dressed in a silk gown of sapphire, made from a bolt of fabric he'd left in her rooms several weeks before. She's laughing, rosy lips curving as she pivots ever so slight, just enough that their eyes find each other's. Her laugh does not fade, but her eyes darken, pink tongue escaping to moisten those lips that only the night before had agonized him in the best of ways. "Your grace," Robb Stark says as he approaches, bowing low before Jon as he falls into place before them. She on the other hand does not move, not at first, smiling as if she holds onto a secret before she sinks into a curtsy, though she never once pulls her eyes from his face.

The Stark siblings have been South for nearly six months now, having arrived at the start of the new year. It was mostly out of peace between their kingdoms- once, their fathers had been at war- now, the sons have taken over and such a war had not been theirs to fight. Cousins by blood, neither Jon nor Robb had wished to shed another drop of family blood. And truth be told, neither had their fragile, broken nations. And so it was peace that was brokered, easily at that, and both Robb, the King in the North, and his sister and heir, Sansa, had come to King's Landing as Jon's honored guests.

"I thought I might dance with the lady," Jon says, beckoning towards Sansa who at least has the grace to blush. Robb casts a glance towards her and then grins as he turns back to Jon. Nodding with approval, he bows again before he makes his way through the crowd, only stopping when he catches sight of the lovely Margaery Tyrell who shines in pale gold damask, a single red rose tucked into the high coils of her hair. Reaching for her hand, he brings it close to his lips, brushing a soft kiss to her knuckles. Such a gesture sends shivers down her spine. "You look beautiful," he says as the music begins again, a slower tune that brings them closer together. They're both aware of the eyes that watch them, the King and the heir to the North, though they pay little mind of any of them watching. Her hand is small and warm in his, while her other hand dares to brush across the nape of his neck. That is what matters, that feeling her touch gives him. "That dress is most becoming."

She laughs, soft and twinkling, and once again those lips curve with a smile. "It is only because of this fine silk," she insists, though even she has been unable to do little else but admire the gown she's crafted for this night. Though quite unlike the styles of the North, she has retained some of her roots, for her red hair remains woven into braids, although it shimmers with a gem covered netting gifted to her by Margaery. That and the pendant she wears around her neck was stamped with her House sigil, worn once by her own father.

He twirls her out and then back in, closer than ever before, though she's uncertain as to how they could ever be closer. But then she snickers, recalling in fact, they could be much closer. As if Jon senses what she's thinking, it's his turn to chuckle, dipping his head down low, so close that his breath tickles her ear as he whispers what he's thought many times that evening. "I do wonder what it looks like upon the floor of my chamber, though." She blushes deep to the core of her hair, but she's breathless all the same. She likes it and he knows it. He loves that she likes it, truthfully.

Sansa Stark had come to King's Landing after a dark, somber period in her life. Once the spoiled, pampered princess of the North, she had been left alone in Winterfell with her youngest siblings, protected by the bitter cold and a small armed force. While her father had been in King's Landing, plotting against Jon's father, Rhaegar Targaryen, her mother had been with Robb on their way to join Ned in the South. What could not protect Sansa nor her siblings was the traitor Bolton House, that swept in upon hearing of Ned's death in battle and took Winterfell for themselves. Sansa was locked away in chambers and never again saw her siblings- Arya lost to the Northern wilderness, the boys certainly smothered in their chambers while they slept.

When Jon's father and Robert Baratheon was found dead after the last fight in what would now be called Robert's Rebellion- he and Robb met on the battlefield. It was Jon who spoke of peace and Robb who asked for nothing but to have help saving his sister from the unspeakable suffering she endured while held prisoner by Ramsay, the bastard born son of Roose Bolton. And save Sansa they had. Riding in at the head of an army, Robb and Jon swooped in and took Winterfell back in the name of House Stark.

Back then, she had worn her black gowns as armor, keeping to herself for the first few weeks of their arrival. Jon had assigned to her a few handmaidens and one in particular, Shae, certainly had found her place as Sansa's confidante. And then there was Margaery Tyrell, the beautiful and wealthy heiress to the Tyrell family. She had been the first to bring Sansa from her shell, the first person Jon had seen make her smile in the first six weeks of her stay. And then... One day... One day she had found him, all alone, in the quietest corner of the massive gardens. She had blushed, stammering an apology, turning to go before Jon could stop her. Two weeks later, they met again in similar fashion, though this time it had been Jon who happened upon her. They met here among the flowers nearly every day after that, hidden from prying eyes by rose bushes and fauna of the brightest green, side by side on the small stone bench.

That simple stone bench had been the place of their first kiss, a soft kiss that left him tingling long after she'd gone. Jon can't really remember when he'd begun to realize the depth of his feelings, but it was sometime between her falling in love with Ghost and Ghost with her, he really never could figure out which came first. But in truth, seeing her sink to the floor in his chambers to hug his neck, or to find the wolf asleep in her bed was all he'd needed to know the truth of how he felt. He loved her. He loved her beyond anything else in his entire life.

"The song is over..." It's her whispering and he jolts back to reality, realizing that indeed the song has ended and they still yet stand together. Springing apart, Jon offers her a most regal bow, his hand reaching for hers as he had done at the beginning. "Jon..." She calls him by name as the music strikes up another tune, this one quicker, though neither of them are thinking of dancing now.

"Meet me, in our usual spot," he murmurs over her knuckles before he drops her hand and disappears into the crowd. Sansa remains where she stands for several long moments more, her hand still yet warm where his lips had touched.

[ x x x ]

He hears her footsteps as she approaches.

There on the stone bench, he waits in silence for her, knowing without a doubt that she would come. She does not hesitate as she once might have, rather she sinks into her place at his side, silk skirts rustling with her movements. From above, the clouds shift, exposing her to the moon's pale light- though he cannot believe it, she's even far more beautiful with moonlight woven into her hair. He swallows, reaching out, hesitantly, to trace the length of her jaw with trembling fingers. "Jon..." Once again she calls him by his name and her hand reaches up, taking hold of his. This alone is enough to comfort him, to give him a sense of courage he's not even felt in battle before.

"Marry me," he says these words simply, without the hesitation from moment's before. She blinks, staring at him as if she's not heard him correctly. Before she can say a word, he's falling down to a knee before her, there on the stone bench, still yet clutching her hand. "Marry me, Sansa," he goes on, smiling up at her, those blue eyes wide in her ivory features. "It is the one thing in this life I have ever wanted-" to be a prince and then a king? It was not his first choice in life, but if he was going to do it... He wanted it to be with a woman he truly loved at his side. And despite the short time he's known her, he knows there can be no other. That there would never be another. This was not a king asking a princess, a noble, it was a man asking a woman. Nothing more, nothing less.

She cannot believe him when he speaks and yet... His dark eyed stare is so poignant, his words so very heartfelt. And truth be told, her her skips a beat at the realization of what he's asked of her. To marry him... To be his wife... Was it not what she dreamed of, if only in the privacy of her own mind? There is a warmth spreading through her and she finds herself to be nodding, over and over again nodding as she smiles brighter than she's ever smiled in all of her life. And then finally... She says what he's been waiting for.

"Yes."

When he rises up, she rises along with him, her heart singing as his hands slide into place against her cheeks. He could have spent forever right there in those gardens with her, if only time would allow. But he knows soon they must return to the ball and then to a new life they would build for themselves.

A happy world, a perfect world.

#jonsa #jon x sansa #actuallyjonsa #i like exploring jon being raised as heir in kings landing #i could do soo much with this plot line HOLY SHIT #b ut i am not writing another multi chapter anything #im not im not im not #*laughs in denial*#my writing #i wrote this

63 notes · View notes

forever-rogue · 3 years

Note

Okay look I really wanted to see Cal so maybe something Cal?? Like maybe he’s holding reader after something scary happens or while she cries (cause I’m currently crying after that new episode) love you lots 🥺

Oh, I’m always soft for Cal. The best boy! I’ve got some softness right here for you 🥺

Star Wars Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

You sat up rod straight in your bed as you tried to gauge your surroundings and figure out exactly where you were. You breathing was ragged as you clutched your wildly fluttering heart and came to the conclusion that you were safe. Safe and sound in your own bed as Cal slept away next to you. He seemed nonplussed as he remained still, his chest rising and falling in a steady fashion, light snores emanating from his mouth.

Safe.You were safe.

But the visions and dreams that plagued your sleep often seemed so real, so vivid and technicolor that you were almost positive that they were real. The flashes of the red saber and the heavy breathing of the Sith Lord called Darth Vader seemed like they never subsided. More often than not, you were left tossing and turning throughout the night. Ever since Cal’s acquisition and destruction of the Holocron, the minor pull to the dark side that was ever present seemed to grow stronger and stronger.

And no matter how much you mediated, to try to clear your heart and mind of the anger and fear you were hanging onto, it never seemed to work. Maybe for a day or so, but then the nightmares were right back and plaguing your mind. And you hoped that’s all they were and would remain. You didn’t want to think about what it mean if they were more than just dreams.

Sighing heavily, you wiped away the already drying rears, before slipping out of bed to make your way to the kitchen. BD-1 must have sensed your sudden presence because he immediately was at your side as you filled a tall glass with fresh, ice cold water. Offering him a weak smile, you quickly downed it all and almost slammed the glass down on the counter. The small droid chirped eagerly as you bent down and got closer to his level.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, answering his question as gave him a pat, “I’m sure it’ll get better soon. It’s just me."

The small droid offered you a series of small beeps of reassurance before he perched next to your leg. Picking him up, you held him against your chest in a tight hug, already feeling better.

"I don't want to worry Cal," you murmured softly, "he's already got so much on his mind. I don't need to worry him about this too."

He made a small sound as you nodded in understanding, "I know. If it doesn't get better soon, I'll tell him. For now I want to give him a break too. He's been through just as much as we have, if not more."

He looked at you with such gentleness that you almost forgot he wasn't a person, but a droid. Although, he was much more than just a droid. He was a part of the little family you'd made with Cal and the rest of the Mantis crew. BD worked his way onto your shoulder and a sense of warmth immediately washed over you. At least there was someone in the galaxy that you could talk to.

Its not that you didn't want to tell Cal, but he needed rest too. He'd been through so much both mentally and physically, and he deserved the rest. Your little fears were not significant enough to further worry him with. Not yet anyway.

"If it doesn't get better I'll tell him soon," you promised yourself and BD. He made a small trill of agreement as you walked back to your bedroom in order to try and get some actual rest. If nothing else, the feeling of Cal's body next to you would be grounding and calming.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Your throat felt tight. Tighter than it ever had. Black dots and a soft haze started to cloud your vision. Each breath became harder and harder, more ragged with every inhale. Your chest was on fire, and yet there was nothing you could do.

You tried to scream, for help, for Cal, but nothing happened.

Your hand went to your throat as you tried to make any sort of sound. The silence was deafening, but then out of the darkness you felt it. A hand on your shoulder, squeezing it tightly before you heard it. That modulated breathing that sent shivers up and down your spine.

And then -

"Turn," it was a single word that was enough to cause your heart to constrict as it echoed throughout the blackened space, "turn, turn, turn."

As you tried to wander and navigate the darkness, you felt your body being jostled. It was so startling that suddenly your eyes opened and vision cleared into the bleary darkness of the late night hours.

"Hey, hey, hey," Cal's hand was on your arm as he gently moved to wake you up, "honey-"

Once you realized you were in the sanctity of your bedroom, you calmed down, even if it was just for the moment.

Turning to face him, a small broken sob escaped your lips as you looked at the concerned expression of your lover.

"Cal," it was a soft, broken whisper as he pulled you into his lap and wrapped his arms tightly around your frame. He rubbed a hand up and down your back in soothing circles as you cried into his shoulder, the fabric of his shirt immediately becoming wet with tears.

"Its okay," he promised with a kiss to the side of your head, "I've got you."

You wished you could have more easily expressed your words, how scared you were, but all you could do was cry as he held you, whispering soft words of love and reassurance in your ear. Ever the gentle and caring man that he was, he didn't pressure you to speak or open up. Instead, he let you get it all out, and held onto you as tightly as possibly, trying to radiate all of his love onto you.

Eventually, when you were all cried out and felt exhaustion slowly washing over your tired bones and heart, you pulled back and looked into his soft eyes.

"Cal," your voice was dry and harsh as he reached up and delicately wiped away the remainder of your tears. He rested his hand on your cheek as he worked to bring you back into reality and ground you. You keened into his touch before pressing your forehead against his and eventually giving him a sweet kiss. He tasted familiar, sweet but always with a hint of mint. He was your comfort, your heart and home, "I'm sorry...I didn't mean to wake you up."

"You have nothing to apologize for," he said with the smallest hint of a laugh, "you were having a nightmare. You can't help that."

"I know," you sighed as you felt your eyes start to burn with the sting of tears again. He senses what was going on, putting a hand to the back of your neck as he gently cradled your head. His soft touch - comfort - was enough to send you over the edge as you began crying again, "I-I was so scared, Cal."

"What happened?" his voice was low and gentle as he did his best to soothe you, "in the nightmare?"

"I.. they're been happening a lot," you admitted, "ever since you destroyed the Holocron."

"What?! Sweet girl - why haven't you said anything?" Cal was in awe as he tried to possibly imagine all the pain and hurt you'd been dealing with on your own. He would have taken it all away from you in an instant.

"I didn't want to bother you," you hiccuped through your tears, "you deserve rest too, my love. You of all people..."

"As do you," he promised, "I want you to know that whatever it is, you can always wake me up or anything. I am with you always."

"I love you," you whispered as you carded a hand through his ginger locks, "thank you for everything. For loving me. All of it."

"I love you too," he replied with a soft kiss, "whats been going on - in your nightmares? You've been having them often, haven't you?"

"Yes," you let out a long, tired sigh, "they're always about the same thing..."

"Vader," he finished for you, sensing that it had to be what seemed to haunt you. You gnawed on your bottom lip as you nodded, "he’s been in my nightmares too. Not as often, but he's there."

"I can feel it," you let it all out before deciding to hold anything back from him, "the pull...to the dark - away from the light. It scares me sometimes."

"I feel it too," he said as a way of reassurance, "and so does Cere. Its normal, you know it is. We all experience it in different ways. But it doesn't mean anything. As long as we remember who we are."

"Okay," you searched his eyes, although as it desperately trying to see if he was being honest. You show nothing but honesty and adoration staring back at you. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you held him as close as physically possible, "I don't know what I'd do without you, Cal."

"I feel the same about you," he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, "you'll always get through everything together. I promise. You have me - always."

Before you could say anything else, a soft beeping meet your ears from the foot of the bed. You both turned to find BD look excitedly at the two of you.

"Come on," you motioned for the small droid to join on and he wasted no time in hoping up on the bed and settling down on your pillow, "hi, BD. Thank you for always being there too."

"Don't know what we'd do without you, buddy," Cal agreed as he laid back down and pulled you down to lay on top of your chest. He wrapped his arms around your middle as your laid on his chest, "we should all try and get some rest. We all deserve it."

"Love you Cal," you murmured sleeping, already feeling sleep wash over you again. This time you knew it would be better, much better in the safety of your lover's arms, "and you too, BD."

#cal kestis #cal kestis x reader #cal kestis x you #jedi fallen order #jedi: fallen order #star wars #cameron monaghan #i love my ginger jedi

322 notes · View notes

jamespotterthefirst · 3 years

Text

Auld Lang Syne (Ethan x f!MC)

aka the fake NYE date

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 3.5K (sorry) Warning: some language

Premise: Ethan pretends to be her date (yet again) for her family’s NYE party. Part II of As Long as You Love Me So

Author’s Note: *gestures grandly* Look at all those chickens fanfic tropes. Thank you to @aestheticartsx for pre-reading this mess!

4:00 pm

Impossibly, he was there with her, in an over-embellished cabin in Vermont, staring at the bed as though it would sprout claws and teeth any minute now. For lack of anything else to say or do, Ethan cleared his throat rather loudly.

“There's only one…”

“Yep,” she returned quickly, voice sounding strangled with barely controlled worry.

They had been in that exact situation before, not too long ago in Miami. Except when that happened, they had never kissed before. At that point, Ethan had no idea how her lush, warm lips would feel against his or how every swell and dip of her body would fit so perfectly under his touch.

Ethan was convinced she was remembering that experience as vividly as he was. They had made it out of there with their dignity and professionalism in shreds. Now, they had somehow managed to stumble into an even worse scenario.

Lilac finally tore her eyes away from the mattress and threw him a furtive but defeated look.

“It makes sense, I guess. My cousins are not as old fashioned as our parents. They think we sleep together all the time.”

Ethan almost coughed, but thanks to acting skills he did not know he possessed, he managed to keep his face neutral. Desperately, he steered his mind away from thoughts of Lilac in bed with him and all the magnificent things they'd do.

“I'll take the couch,” he managed, throwing his bag atop the plump cushions. The loud thud of its landing served as irrefutable finality to his statement.

Now that he was here, he would get through the evening at her side, careful to keep his meticulously constructed guard up. After the festivities, that couch would be his only respite from the magnetic pull that always made itself known when he was near her. And in the morning, they would drive back to Boston, where he could focus his attention back on Naveen and the slight improvement of his case.

Just one night.

He just had to get through tonight and then he could go back to putting as much distance between them as possible.

5:00

“You're kidding,” Lilac said, eyes trained on the sparkling silver fabric her cousin dangled before her. The bleak sunlight pouring from the window hit the dress and sent iridescent beams of color all about.

Natalia all but shrieked with excitement, clutching the dress close to her.

“You can't tell me he won't love it!”

Lilac said nothing, examining the outfit and trying her best to figure out how so little fabric would amount to a whole dress. It looked to her more like a long, backless shirt than anything else. And typically, the garment would be just her style, particularly when trying upstage her horrible cousin Griselda at her own party.

Today, however, she couldn't help but second guess everything. Her stomach bottomed out just at the thought of Ethan's eyes on her in that dress.

As though reading her mind, Natalia grinned at her.

“He loved that pink dress you were wearing at dinner the other night,” she said in a sing-song voice.

Lilac remained silent, fighting back the persistent need to ask for more detail. Natalia, however, did not need an invitation to offer it in a giddy rush.

“He couldn't keep his eyes off you, Lilita,” she gushed. “The way he looked at you when you weren't looking…” She trailed off, as though words were not enough to properly describe the heated, stolen glances of that night. “God, you can just tell he lo—”

At this, her cousin halted abruptly, throwing Lilac a sheepish look. There was no way for her cousin to know if they had said the words to one another yet in this made-up relationship.

A sharp, painful wave of longing settled in Lilac's stomach at the thought. What would it be like to hear Ethan Ramsey utter those words, striking blue eyes looking down at her as though she was the only person in the world?

“Anyway,” Natalia tried again. “You can tell Dr. Ramsey was feeling that dress the other night. I bet I can guess what you did when you got home.”

Lilac sincerely doubted that unless Natalia knew she had been so mortified that night when she got to her apartment that she downed half a bottle of wine and stuffed her face with Sienna's brownies.

“Fine,” Lilac agreed at last, taking the garment from her cousin. “I'll wear the dress.”

Natalia squealed her excitement and Lilac couldn't help but smile at her cousin's contagious joy.

“I can't wait to see the stupid look on Griselda's face. She's been in an awful mood getting everything ready for tonight. When she sees you in this, arm in arm with your hot doctor, she'll have a conniption.”

6:00

The familiar burn from the liquid was a welcomed relief from the many thoughts plaguing him. They alternated between thoughts of Lilac and his concern for Naveen, despite the many texts from the latter assuring him he was fine. Now that he was alone, he was beginning to understand just how much of a mistake this had been.

Ethan took another drink. Despite how much he disliked Lilac's pretentious cousin, he had to admit she kept the cabin's home bar stocked with exceptional scotch.

“Glenmorangie,” a voice said from behind him.

Ethan did not have to turn around to know it was Griselda, standing a few feet away as though summoned.

“Eighteen year,” she continued, eyeing the glass in his hand. She paused, as though awaiting praise for her excellent taste.

Ethan determinately offered none.

Lilac's cousin sighed, moving closer to the bar. The clamor of her heels against the floor echoed around the cavernous space of the otherwise desolate living room.

“I'm impressed, you know,” she said in a deliberately causal tone. She took the bottle of Glenmorangie and poured two fingers in a glass. “I didn't think you'd actually show.”

Unfazed, Ethan kept his eyes ahead and took another swig. “I can't imagine why.”

Griselda let out a low, humorless laugh. “See, I didn't think a world renowned doctor would be interested in acting for a whole weekend, all for the sake of a lowly intern.”

The words were delivered with unmistakable triumph, each of them striking Ethan like the ominous tolling of iron bells.

With experienced impassiveness, he turned to face her. Griselda wore a victorious smirk, dark eyes glittering as she took in the expanse of his chest with unveiled interest. Her smile turned coy, concealed briefly by the crystal of her glass as she took a drink.

When he glanced away wordlessly, she pressed on.

“You can drop the act, Doctor Ramsey. I'm not an imbecile.” Her voice was a deadly whisper. “My pathetic little cousin would do anything to impress me. Even fake a relationship with her medical hero to fulfill her pitiful little fantasies.”

His fingers clutched his glass with such force that the decorative ridges dug into his skin almost painfully.

“How she roped you into her juvenile scheme is beyond me.” She had gravitated a lot closer to Ethan. “Lucky for you, however, you are free to act as you please now that I know.”

He could see a blood-red nail moving closer to his hand on the counter. Ethan raised his scotch to his lips, his grip so tight on the glass now that his knuckles shone white.

“I'd never fake a relationship in front of you,” he muttered at last, carefully choosing his words.

This had the intended effect because Griselda perked up, intrigued.

“And why is that?”

Ethan set his glass on the counter, facing her full on. Summoning his most charming smile, the same one that had a visible effect on many recipients, he leaned in close.

Griselda's breath hitched expectantly.

And then, very carefully, so carefully that there would be no room for her to miss the words, he whispered—

“Because you're not that special.”

7:00

With one last glance at her reflection and a sharp, shuddering exhale, Lilac trekked to the dining room where most of that night's guests were already congregated. Many pairs of eyes landed on her as she entered, the din of conversation ebbing slowly.

Griselda, who was chatting with her work acquaintances, stopped mid-sentence as her eyes fell on Lilac, the faux pleasant smile falling from her expression at once. There was something different about the furious glare her cousin bore into her like a knife. It was unabashedly disdainful, even hateful.

Lilac would have enjoyed it any other night but instead, she was far too busy scanning the crowd for—

“Dr. Ramsey, there you are,” exclaimed Natalia, eyes falling over Lilac's shoulder.

Before she could swivel around, a pair of strong, warm arms enveloped her from behind. His hands rested at her hips and his intoxicating scent cast such a heady spell on Lilac that she was lucky his strong chest offered her support. She had no hope of getting any words out, least of all when he leaned down and whispered in her ear—

“New dress?”

8:00

Ethan realized far too soon that the distracting silver dress was the least of his worries. Unsettled as he was, however, he would occasionally find his attention hopelessly caught on the tantalizing fabric and the way it adorned her figure perfectly. He wasn't blind after all.

Lilac laughed at something Sebastian said. She was far more relaxed after a few drinks, laughing with ease in a way that made Ethan's pulse quicken.

“I bet Doctor Ramsey would love to see those,” Sebastian said with a laugh of his own.

“See what?”

“Some videos of young Lilita singing Selena songs at karaoke, complete with signature dance moves.” Sebastian accentuated the last two words with easy movements of his hips, gracefully spinning in a full circle. “Remember La Lavadora?”

Natalia laughed. “We used to tie up our shirts and pretend we were wearing her famous bustier.”

Just then, Ethan caught Griselda's eye from across the living room. Her dark eyes fell to the space that separated Ethan and Lilac where they stood, a satisfied smile starting to dawn on her face.

With a sudden rush of determination, he cupped the small of her bare back and pulled her close, his blood fizzing at her proximity. Lilac jolted slightly, turning a surprised glance at him.

“Is this okay?” he whispered in her ear.

Lilac glanced at him through heavy lids, her eyes falling to his lips for the briefest of seconds. It was enough to make his pulse a roar in his ears.

“Yes.”

As if on its own accord, his thumb traced lazy circles at her back. Blushing, Lilac parted her lips and looked at him so intently, Ethan was convinced she was two seconds away from dragging him into their shared bedroom.

He would gladly let her.

“Get a room,” Sebastian teased, prompting Ethan to remember her cousins were still there.

From across the room, Griselda scowled, downing her drink in one gulp.

“Luckily they have one,” Natalia added with a laugh and a wink for Lilac.

9:00

Griselda's undisguised hostility grew more tangible by the hour. Their dislike was no secret to anyone in the family, but even Natalia and Sebastian couldn't deny something was different today. So different in fact, that even her unsuspecting guests, who had no background on her family, started to notice.

“What's up her ass?” Natalia joked over the music.

Lilac shrugged and took another sip of her champagne, despite Ethan's constant reminders that the drink was pitiful.

“You're getting drunk off of garbage, Rookie,” he commented from where he stood at her side.

His hand rested on the curve of her waist, burning through the fabric. Lilac was convinced she was getting drunk off of him, his touch, and the way his eyes pierced through her with each glance.

Natalia perked up at the nickname. “Rookie?”

“His nickname for me,” Lilac explained.

Natalia, looking a bit tipsy herself, cooed, “Aww! That's so cute!”

Luckily, she didn't ask for further explanation. Instead, Natalia moved to chat with a family friend, one Lilac was increasingly convinced she harbored a crush for.

“Something's different,” she commented to Ethan quietly. “Ever since dinner, you've been… just… different.”

Instead of responding, Ethan's eyes scanned the crowd.

“What's going on?”

His eyes softened when they met hers. Gently, he leaned in to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. He didn't move his hand away, the pad of his thumb tracing lazy lines along her cheekbone.

Lilac held her breath, too afraid that any movement might scare him away. Their faces were so close together, his eyes taking in every inch of her face, as though memorizing it. Until at last, they rested on her lips.

“Ethan—”

And then the blinding flash of a camera forced them to spring apart.

“Shit. Sorry. That was supposed to be without flash!” Natalia said. “It's a cute picture, though.”

10:00

Pretty green eyes made his blood warmer than any fine scotch ever could. He leaned in to whisper something that made her laugh and that made him drunker still, the sound making him feel weightless.

Ethan's hand alternated from her waist, back, arms. His skin all but burned anywhere he touched her, white hot and electric.

At some point throughout the night he had stopped checking if her cousin was watching. He no longer cared if she was buying the act.

Not that he had been acting for a second anyway. Every touch, every whisper, every smile had been genuine.

More genuine still was the urge to kiss her.

11:30

“Estúpida!” Natalia shrieked at Griselda, drawing the attention of most of the guests. She had jumped back to avoid the splash of red wine headed her way but she had not been fast enough. Her lovely champagne colored dress was ruined with an ugly splotch.

“Sorry,” Griselda said, not sounding sorry at all. “If it makes you feel any better, it was an accident.”

Lilac doubted that very much.

On second thought, spilling wine over Natalia had been an accident because the intended target had been Lilac.

From beside her, Ethan sighed loudly, pulling her close. “Are you alright?”

Before Lilac could offer any form of reply, Griselda let out an exaggerated coo at the sight of them. Keith, her boyfriend, lurked behind her, looking embarrassed and like he wanted to intervene but wasn't entirely sure how.

“Gris, you're drunk,” he said, gently taking her elbow.

Griselda purposely ignored him, eyes zeroed in on Lilac and Ethan. In the chaos of Natalia cursing up a storm and Sebastian looking around their immediate proximity for something to help her soak up the mess, Lilac could not properly study the unmasked disdain on her cousin's expression. All she saw were fierce dark eyes sinking into here's, glassed over from a full evening of drinking, and an unrelenting snarl.

“Que hermosa pareja,” Griselda commented quite loudly. No one, not even those who didn't speak the language, could doubt the sarcasm dripping from every syllable.

Lilac thought her cousin must be very intoxicated to allow her native language out so freely.

“You two are almost…” Griselda trailed off deliberately. “...too good to be true.”

A horrible sense of dread sunk in her stomach like a stone.

She knew.

Her cousin's words, drunk and slurred as they were, insinuated that she knew about their fib.

Panicked, Lilac glanced up at Ethan and was surprised to see him unfazed, as though the information was nothing new for him.

“So happy for you, primita,” Griselda went on, swaying slightly on her feet. “If you do end up marrying this one, I must help you plan the wedding.”

A nasty surge of panic speared through Lilac, her pulse drumming chaotically at her ears. She could see Ethan's confused frown from the corner of her eye.

“I got my hopes up with the last one,” Griselda continued, words accompanied by a dangerous smirk.

“Griselda, shut up,” Sebastian snapped furiously.

“Until he cheated on you. What a shame that was.”

The room went dead silent.

Lilac's throat constricted painfully and to her horror, her eyes stung with the threat of tears. Her breathing, which quickened dangerously, came out in chocked little gasps and it took every ounce of her strength to stifle them.

“And then when you took him back and he cheated again, I just didn't—”

SLAP

Lilac's palm had connected with her cousin's airbrushed face with a resounding crack. She didn't pause to see Griselda's shock dwindle into hatred, or to hear any of the words Ethan was saying. Furiously smearing away the tears that had finally spilled, she turned on her heel and ran.

11:50

It was ten minutes before midnight when Ethan finally found her, a lone figure in the middle of the backyard's gazebo. She didn't move as he approached, eyes fixed on the dark outline of the forest beyond.

It was a particularly clear night for winter in Vermont, the remnants of the last snowfall nothing but grey sludge on the ground. Still, the biting chill of the night whipped against their skin and the only thing protecting her was a flimsy fleece throw blanket.

Without a word, he removed his suit's jacket and draped it over her shoulders. Lilac merely looked at the fabric and let out a small humorless laugh.

“Back to where we started,” she muttered.

It dawned on him that he had done the very same thing the night this whole fantasy started.

After a short, peaceful pause, Ethan opened his mouth to offer some kind of comfort. Before the words could leave him, however, she stood up from her seat on the bench with a renewed sense of purpose.

“Let's get the hell out of here.”

Ethan nodded once. “We can go back to the room—”

But Lilac was shaking her head. “Back to Boston.”

A beat.

“Rookie, that's crazy.”

“No, what's crazy is this whole stupid scheme. Pretending to date? Who does that?” Her voice flared briefly with her temper, only realizing this belatedly. She looked away from Ethan.

Ethan remained silent, giving her as much time as she needed. After a minute, she exhaled sharply and met his eye again. “I'm really sorry I dragged you into this.”

Ethan wasn't sorry at all. He dismissed the apology with a wave of his hand.

More silence.

Lilac leaned against a wooden beam and let out another ironic laugh. “The funny thing is it didn't even work.”

“It worked.”

At his side, his hands flexed instinctively, yearning to touch her just like he had all night. There was no question in his mind that everyone, including Griselda, was convinced of his feelings for Lilac.

Lilac, meanwhile, sent him a questioning look and his pulse accelerated at the mere thought of telling her just that.

“That's why she lashed out,” he said instead.

She nodded once, deep in thought.

The way her shoulders pinched with tension and the slight quiver of her lips left no doubt that she was recalling Griselda's lashing words. And though Ethan was insurmountably curious, he refrained from asking.

“Earlier,” he started quietly. “She confronted me about this being an act.”

Her head snapped to look at him. After a few seconds, understanding dawned on her beautiful, moonlit face.

“That's why you…” she trailed off, looking slightly embarrassed. “That's why you put on a hell of a show.”

They could hear the swelling of voices from inside the cabin. Someone inside announced there were only their seconds left until midnight.

Neither of them looked away from one another. Ethan's eyes descended to her petal pink lips and then back to her eyes.

“It wasn't for show.”

Her breath hitched.

“Lilac, you already know that I—”

In the distance, the party-goers began their countdown.

“Ten!”

His hand found the dip of her waist, as though magnetized.

“Nine!”

Eyes never leaving hers, he pulled her closer to him.

“Eight!”

“Ethan,” she whispered. A plea and the sweetest sound he had ever heard.

“Seven!”

Their bodies were pressed so close together, he wondered if she could feel the way his thunderous heart beat for her.

“Six!”

Lilac's perfume caressed his senses as her delicate hands clung to his shoulders.

“Five!”

“Lilac,” he murmured, sounding agonized to his own ears.

“Four!”

Her hand moved to cradle his jaw and Ethan briefly closed his eyes.

“Three!”

Delicate fingers danced along the planes of his face with a featherlight touch.

“Two!”

Ethan basked in her touch, convinced there was nothing better.

Nothing except—

“One!”

And he kissed her at last.

Translations:

La Lavadora : “The Washer Machine”/ a dance move

“Estúpida!” : Stupid bitch

“Que hermosa pareja,” : What a beautiful couple

Primita: little cousin

Author’s Note: Ah! So there will definitely be a part 3. However, I still haven’t decided if I will work on that first or on the next Picta chapter. It depends what this volatile inspiration of mine decides!

Thank you so much for reading this!

And thank you so much to everyone who put up with me, my blog, and my writing this year. Your support means everything. Seriously, writing is one of my greatest joys. Before truly immersing myself in this fandom, I thought I’d never write again because of work and other responsibilities.

Thank you everyone for giving me this gift back.

Happy New Year, my loves! I wish everyone success, happiness, and excellent health. Now, let’s all quietly walk into 2021 and not touch anything.

Tags: @openheart12 , @takeharryandgo , @trappedinfanfiction, @aestheticartsx, @aworldoffandoms, @paulfwesley, @myusualnerdyself, @rookie-ramsey, @ohchoices, @enmchoices, @i-bloody-love-drake-walker, @choicesfanaf, @openheartthot, @octobereighth, @nazarihoe, @utterlyinevitable, @kites-in-our-skies, @maurine07, @schnitzelbutterfingers, @doilooklikeiknow, @snesdudes, @kingliam2019, @perriewinklenerdie, @cinnamonspongecake, , @queencarb, @ethxnrxmsey, @missmiimiie, @jens-diamondchoices, @adamsdumortain, @apphia12, @kalogh, @lucy-268, @binny1985, @queenbirbs, @honeyandsunfl0wers, @newcolonies, @lilyvalentine, @rigatonireid, @interobanginyourmom, @parkerattano, @custaroonie, @nikki-2406, @lilypills, @chasingrobbie, @nooruleman, @lonely-mxxnlight, @ruinedbypixels, @shadynaturehilariouscookie, @tsrookie, @mvalentine, @professorkingslay, @drakewalkerfantasy, @casey-v, @helloblueeyedcat, @mysticaurathings, @blossomanarchy, @thegreentwin, @togetherwearerapture, @rookieoh, @rookiemarsswiftie, @natashajaniphilchoices, @mysticalgalaxysstuff, @hatescapsicum, @choices-lurker, @kiara-36, @junehiratas, @danijimenezv, @macy-ray85, @adrex04, @canigetanawwjunk, @sanchita012, @overwhelminglyaquarius , @scorpiochick8, @skylarklyon, @starrystarrytrouble, @mercury84choices, @drariellevalentine, @ethanrcmsey, @aarisa-frost, @udishaman, @a-crepusculo, @quacksonlover, @caroldxnvxrs, @ramseyandrys, @whatchique, @varikasnuori, @dimitriwife, @genevievemd, @shanzay44, @fabi-en-ciel, @trebondialanna, @lady-calypso, @ashiiknees, @dr-ramseys-rookie, @stygianflood, @bellcat2010, @iemcpbchoices, @bellcat2010, @iemcpbchoices, @gryffindordaughterofathena, @alookseeblog, @whimsicallywayward15

@emotionalswift2, @lion-ess24, @lovingramsey

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #playchoices #my writing #choices fanfiction #ethan ramsey fanfiction #open heart fanfiction

258 notes · View notes