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savannahsdeath · 9 months

Note

Hey girl I'm obsessed with your writing!! I have a lil request. Could you do reader x dom abby. Abby is the readers brothers best friend you can do whatever you like with the story just make sure there's lots of smut 😻

BBF!ABBY ANDERSON X READER

mdni please<3

warnings: 18+!! dom!abby, sub!reader, smut, abby is taunting reader and sliiiightly being mean

writers note: first abby fic on my blog guysss !! also i love the 'just make sure theres lots of smut' like yall are sooo desperate but SO AM I🗣️🗣️

abby, as your brother's best friend, acted a lot like him. and we all know how brothers act - they tease, taunt, mock and laugh at their little sisters. she wasn't so cruel with it, more playful, but it still annoyed you. maybe, in person, she wasn't that bad? you never had a chance to talk to her privately, until that one night.

you were getting ready for a small house party your classmate invited you for. you dressed in the shortest skirt and the tightest top you found. you planned to go there late, when everyone's already drunk out of their minds - it's funny to see them like that. maybe something like midnight, or even later.

when everyone already fell asleep you sat at the kitchen table, having a typical night's snack. you were eating slowly and peacefully until abby came in, taking a glass of water and slowly sipping from it while leaning against the counter. she studied your little outfit and smirked.

"well, well, well..." abby spoke to you, still inspecting your attire." someone's all dressed up."

you sat in silence, feeling yourself heat up under her gaze.

"what's the occasion?" she continued to maintain her wry grin. "some special man got you all dressed up?"

"well... i did have... something planned tonight." you spoke, your voice trembled a little as you tried to remain confident. "i was headed to a gathering of friends."

abby raised a single eyebrow, her smile grew wider as she let out a little chuckle. "you sure are heading out a little late, aren't you?"

"i don't see what business it is of yours anyway." you answered with some hesitation, not sure what other reason you could give her.

abby chuckled. "someone's a little defensive." she took one finger and lightly tapped your chin, making you look straight in her eyes. "i bet you're planning to meet some special boy."

you could feel your face flare up from the heat, and you decided against agreeing to everything. "maybe, and so what?"

the truth is, you didn't even think about... ugh, boys. you just thought she'll leave you alone once you satisfy her with your reply.

"no, you're not." she laughed. "i mean, maybe you planned to, but you're not going anywhere."

you scoffed. "it's not your house, you're just my brother's guest. you won't lock me up or anything."

"that's right, i won't." she said with mock-concern. "but you won't go there, unless you want your family to know..."

your heart dropped but you let out a nervous chuckle, hoping it'll cover you.

"you wouldn't. don't lie, i know you wouldn't." you shook your head, the fear unluckily evident in your voice.

abby's smirk faded to a more serious expression, her voice becoming colder as she leaned in closer.

"i'm sure they'd want to know what their precious little daughter is up to." she spoke to you, her tone dripping with menace and a promise of a punishment. "but if you're smart, you'll just stay right here. won't you?"

you couldn't bear the thought of your parents knowing, there was no way you would tell them what you were planning.

"fine, i'll stay. happy?" you tried to sound tough, but the hint of a whisper in your voice showed you were not so confident about agreeing to abby's terms.

she smiled once more as finished her drink and turned around to set the empty glass down. "good girl."

you sat there, in the kitchen, letting out a long breath that you didn't even know you had been holding.

then, abby turned back to you with her trademark teasing grin.

"now, what are we going to do at this wee hours? it would be a shame to waste your lovely outfit..." abby admitted with a smirk and a light shrug.

she then began to walk towards you, her face filled with playful mischief as she reached out and cupped your cheek. she raised your face up, a little closer to hers, as her thumb stroked your bottom lip. without standing up, you leaned in, your lips barely brushing against abby's as you tried to resist the urge to do more. she took the initiative, leaning down to press her lips against yours in the most passionate and firm way possible.

you ended up with your legs spread wide open, sitting on the edge of the chair. if anyone woke up now, they'd see abby kneeling in front of you with her head buried deep into your core.

"you gotta stay quiet, m'kay?" she murmured, hearing your breath beginning to get more and more shaky by every second.

she was right. no one came to check on you before, when you were just talking - it wasn't suspicious. however, the case would be different if it wasn't words escaping your mouth. you didn't miss the party so your parents don't find out about you sneaking around, just for them to see what you're doing now. in fact, they'd probably prefer you to just drink with your friends, than let your brother's friend's big hands hold your legs while she leaves dark marks on your inner thighs.

your breath became short, and the shaking had only gotten worse as you tried your best to hold back your louder, more audible reactions from the pleasure. your legs started to feel numb from both her grip and being forced to not move. as abby injected two of her fingers knuckles-deep into you, they uncontrollably closed.

"ohh, no, no." she laughed. "open up for me."

with her help, you managed to part your thighs to their previous position.

your walls clenched, adjusting to her length. you tugged on her braid, your nails digging into the gaps between each binding, ruining her hairstyle and making it messy.

"c'mon..." she twisted her fingers and started to work her magic. "it's bearable. you're kinda... overdramatic." she raised her eyebrow and chuckled.

you started thinking about some witty comeback, but you couldn't risk opening your mouth. not when you knew how many stashed moans hide in the back of your throat.

her thumb circled your clit, adding to the sensations. it wasn't necessary and you swore she just makes things harder for you purposely.

you shook your head, silently communicating to the voices inside your head you won't give in. but you did, moaning out a little 'abby...'

"sh, sh, shhh." she clicked her tongue in a mockingly disappointed gesture. "i don't know about your parents, but if i heard something like that in the middle of the night, i'd know what's happening right away. we don't want that, do we?"

the bratty side of you scoffed before you could think about obeying her. that made her laugh even more. you felt a pang of jealousy at the fact she doesn't have to purse her lips, knowing only not-suspicious sounds leave her mouth. unfair.

"i'm sorry, what was that?" she smirked, her moves painfully slowing down. "i'm just trying to help you here. you either behave or..."

you cut her off, not wanting to hear any of her threats and taunting again. "sorry, m'sorry."

she nodded, going back to her task.

you struggled, really struggled, to stay quiet. at first it wasn't even that hard, but who would last with abby for longer than fifteen minutes? let's just say... not you.

#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x y/n #abby x you #abby x reader #abby x y/n #abby x fem!reader #reqs open #wlw smut #abby the last of us #bbf!abby #bbf!abby anderson #bbf!abby anderson x reader #bbf!abby x reader

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scandinavianfairytale · 2 months

Text

Old feelings die hard

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x Reader

Warnings: None 💙

It was his first match back at home. Manchester. He knew it'll be bad. He knew no one besides his mom and Jerry would be happy to see him.

Though his mind kept thinking of you.

Would you spare a kind word? A flash of a smile for him? Or maybe even a hug. But he didn't dare to hope. All he knew was that he wanted to find you. See you again.

Apologize.

So before the team got up for the morning practice, he put on his hoodie and jogged all the way to the café he knew you owned.

And there you were.

He stopped at the big window and stared at your smiling face as you prepared the shop to open. It was amazing to see you so content, and he was so proud. You really made it - you had your own coffee shop and a good one, according to Google reviews. It was a cozy place, walls lined with books and plants, all your favorite things. His will was wavering and his anxiety was rising, his chest heaving. But he needed to do this. It was now or never.

He entered the café carefully, and he heard you humming to yourself as the steamer made its normal high-pitched noise. You busied yourself around the coffee machine, completely oblivious to the fact that you had company observing your every move.

Jamie was trying to think of a way to pull you out of your world, but he couldn't think of a justifiable reason. You looked so happy, reaching for cups and different coffee beans. That is until you finally turned around to fill the cookie jar on the counter and let out a shriek of surprise as you found a person standing inside the still closed coffee shop.

"Jamie fucking Tartt. As I live and breathe." You finally smiled as you realized who was standing in front of you. Making your way around the counter you wrapped your arms around him. Jamie was taken aback by the sudden hug but once the initial shock wore off his hands grabbed your torso and brought you even closer to him.

"Matcha latte?" You asked as you sat him down at one of the tables at the back. With just one look at him, you knew feeding him coffee would be a bad idea.

"Sure."

"How have you been?" He asked as he waited and stared at you.

"Busy. You know how it is." You flashed him a smile, but didn't linger. "How have you been? I saw that Richmond is making stride, congrats!"

"Yeah..." Jamie didn't sound as confident or cocky as you were used to, so your head immediately snapped back from the matcha and you finally took him in. Properly this time. Before, you just assumed it might be before-game-jitters.

"Jamie, what's wrong?" You asked concerned.

"I've been meaning to contact you for a while now." He paused and met your eyes. "I've been a shit person. You didn't deserve it and I never got to say it when I got the chance, but...I love you. I always have. Since that day that you pushed me down in the forest and sat on me because I was being a cocky little prick." You smiled at that.

"I wish I could take all the bad stuff back. I wouldn't have hurt you. And I wouldn't have left. I am so sorry." Jamie hung his head.

"That must've been weighing on you for a long time." You replied with a pause. What he was talking about was something you didn't think about that often. Of course being the girlfriend of a young football star and then being left very abruptly phased you and impacted your future relationships, but therapy helped a lot. It's not just that Jamie was a prick, no sugarcoating needed there, but you weren't a sunshine either. "Jamie, we both weren't great people - we were still basically teenagers. You were going pro in football and I was going abroad for university. We would have broken up eventually or someone would have cheated and I think while the execution was not great, you did the only right thing. So, I hold absolutely no hard feelings for you." You smiled and he finally lifted his head to look at you.

"As for the confession about love...why don't you first get into the good graces of Manchester and then we can talk, I don't plan on jeopardizing my entire life because the man I want to date is hated by the whole fucking city."

"Wait...would you want to go on a date with me?" Jamie asked, looking shocked.

"Well, I'm single and the only guy I ever really loved in my life just said that he still loves me, so I guess so?" You grinned.

"Can I kiss you?" Jamie stood up from his seat, with a little more pep and you nodded, stepping closer to him with a ridiculous smile on your face. It was like muscle memory when your lips met and suddenly all the other guys made sense - you never liked kissing them as much as Jamie. Your therapist offered that idea to you but it dawned on you just now.

Thank you for reading! 😊💙

The GIF belongs to the amazing creator 😊

#phil dunster #ted lasso #jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #fluffy #old feelings die hard #short story #fanfic

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battymommastuff · 11 months

Text

The Loop [Lighting Strikes Twice]

Batmom x Batfamily

Prompt: Okay, what the hell is happening? She was perfectly fine...she was safe

Masterlist Part 1 Part 2

TW: DARK THEMES AND DEATH

Here you were making your delicious birthday breakfast. Here you were making your delicious breakfast...with your entire family watching you. You were glad that the kitchen was big enough to fit so many bodies inside of it. "I really don't need all of you to watch me. I'm sure I'll be perfectly fine cooking the eggs." You said jokingly, obviously unaware of what's been happening to you. After beating the eggs, you turned to grab a knife so you could slice the bacon.

"NO!" Your entire family screamed out, making you nearly drop the sharp blade on your foot. Dick jumped over the counter that separated you from the rest of them, and took the knife from you, "How about you let us make the breakfast. Hell, most of us have watched you do it since we were kids." Dick said and nudged you out of the way.

"Dick I-" You were cut off by Bruce pulling you further away from your oldest son and towards him, "Why don't we take the plane somewhere? FIji? It'll be just the two of us" Bruce asked hoping that you would readily agree. You did. It's been awhile since you had the chance to be alone with your husband.

After he sent you upstairs to pack, he turned to everyone else. "We can't let this happen again." He said instantly switching from happy husband to The Dark Knight. "Both times she's...died, we were in Gotham. Leaving the city has to be the solution. I want everyone on watch. We WILL make it through today." Bruce said and several heads started nodding.

What they didn't know was that you didn't go upstairs. You were leaning against the wall right outside of the kitchen. You knew that your family could act weird at times. They run around kicking crazy villains in the face at night, but this was different. They all looked at you as if you were the one they were trying to stop. As you listened to what Bruce said, your face formed into a frown. Were they talking about you? You didn't die...you were standing right there.

Before you could listen more, Alfred opened another door to exit into the hallway, so you quickly made your way upstairs to pack.

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You gave each member of your family a warm hug before boarding the private jet. Each of them hugged you back as if they would never see you again. It made what you heard even more suspicious. They were keeping something from you, and you were going to find out what it was.

After boarding the plane, you sat down across from your husband who gave you a warm smile. He loved you to pieces...he truly truly did, but that man never smiled. The only time he ever smiled was in front of the press. Normally you would bombard him with questions, but he could still exit the plane if he needed to.

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Now that you were up in the air, you took your seatbelt off to relax. "Bruce, what's going on?" You asked as you crossed your leg over the other. You were dressed in attire for an island and he was too. He wasn't lying about going to Fiji, "Was the fight with the League over me?" You asked your second question before he could answer the first.

"Nothing's going on Y/N. We just wanted to spend a little time with you on your birthday. The trip to Fiji was a last minute thing." Bruce was a good liar. He had to be for what he does with his freetime, but that didn't matter now; You knew something was wrong.

"That's interesting, I'm always able to use a knife to cut food. Today you all lost your mind as soon as I picked it up." A small smirk made its way onto your face. That smirk always appeared when you caught someone in a lie. You could see the confidence start to weaken on Bruce's face after you said that. He knew that they acted out too quickly. They should have kept their composure.

"Also, I happen to overhear your little conversation with our kids after I left the kitchen." Game over. You knew something was up, and Bruce knew he couldn't talk his way out of this one. There was a reason he was trying to get you to leave Gotham, and you had him in the perfect place to figure out what it was.

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"So who's trying to kill me?" You asked after a long pause between the two of you. Bruce tensed up, and you frowned. A death threat or attempt on your life wasn't anything new. You were Bruce Wayne's wife, and Batman's wife. Those who hated the Waynes lashed out at you, and the ones who knew of Batman's identity also lashed out at you.

"We don't know...we've...um..." Bruce's voice started to crack as he struggled to find the words to say. He didn't know how to explain this to you without freaking you out. Everyone loved to say that you were the perfect woman to be Batman's wife. He was known as the World's Greatest Detective, and that skill bled into you as well.

"Bruce?" You said softly after your husband completely broke down. His hands covered his face and he rested his elbows on his knees. This wasn't anything new. He would have moments like this a lot...when he thought about his parent's death. You knew there was magic, and things that couldn't be explained in this world.

"How many times have I died?" You asked, resting your shaky hand on his forearm. While there were magical villains, there were also villains that could manipulate time, "Bruce, please talk to me."

Bruce moved his hands away from his face, and he let you interlace his fingers with yours. Your wedding bands rubbing together in an oddly comforting way to both of you, "Twice...the first was at a party we threw to surprise you...the second...you were stabbed by someone...we still don't know who it is. Then we all wake up, the kids and I. We wake up and it's today all over again."

Any normal person would have quickly dismissed this as a lie, but after seeing the things you've seen? You weren't questioning it at all. "I'm sure we'll figure this out. We're out of Gotham, surely whoever is trying to kill me can't follow us here." You reassured him then climbed into his lap, "Let me distract your mind. Just lean back, and I'll take care of you."

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Bruce rested his head on yours as you slept in the seat next to his. His arm wrapped tightly around your shoulders, and yours were hugging his waist. He looked at the time on his watch, and saw that time had passed, you would have been dead by now. Bruce let out a breath of relief when he saw that.

It seems like he was right, leaving Gotham was the answer. Now he needs to keep you hidden until they find whoever is doing this to you.

Or so he thought...

The weather outside of the plane went from sunny to very cloudy. Those clouds then turned dark as thunder rumbled from all around them. Bruce felt an odd sense of dread fill him as he saw the lighting in the clouds. He didn't see any storms in the forecast before they took flight. That dread soon turned to horror when the lighting hit one of the plane's engines. The explosion startled you awake, and you sat up quickly.

Bruce made his way into the cockpit to find both of his pilots had vanished. There was no way they could have jumped. You both were facing the doorway, you would have seen them leave. He wasted no time in taking control. He could fly the batplane, this was simple work. He would signal the batplane then fly out of the storm. They would make it with one engine, and his plane was very fast.

"Bruce!" You screamed out as you saw another bolt hit the second engine. He saw it as well. He knew what this was. Whatever wanted to kill you had found you. Bruce got up from the pilot's seat, and quickly made his way to you, "There are parachutes, we're going to have to jump. The batplane should be here any second." He then made his way to the bin that held the parachutes.

As if fate was against him, there was only one. The plane was still gliding through the air, but they couldn't wait. Bruce picked up the parachute to try and get you to wear it, but you pushed back towards him, "Bruce no. If this is what you told me, then I'll die..and you'll wake up. In some twisted way, this is the only way we'll both live." You said and forced your husband into the parachute.

"And if it isn't, and this is just fate truly fucking us over...then you still need to survive. The world needs Batman more than it needs Y/N Wayne." That last sentence broke both of your hearts to hear and say. When Bruce refused to move, you were the one who opened the door to the plane.

You braced yourself against the wall, so you didn't go flying out of it, "If you wake up again, save me." You said then pushed Bruce out of the plane before he could do or say anything. You watched as he fell quickly through the air and watched the parachute unfurl.

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Bruce looked up towards the crashing plane, and saw you standing by the doorway. He watched you vanish from the door. You walked back into the plane, and sat down in the nearest seat. You felt tears rushing down your face as you felt the plane start turning down.

The plane would never touch the water below them. The largest bolt of lighting he's ever seen came from the clouds and hit the plane. As if he were watching a movie, the plane exploded. Bruce let out a gut wrenching scream as he watched the explosion fill the sky. Never had he wanted to wake up so badly in his life.

He then saw something slowly falling from the explosion. It was too small to be your body. The batplane flew through the clouds, and Bruce was safe in the pilot's seat. The falling object still fell, and landed gently on the nose of the plane and he felt sick.

Slowly the handle started to spin, and the little clock arms started turning. Despite bullet proof glass separating them, he heard that nursery rhyme that he would grow to hate. Bruce felt his eyes grow heavy and he collapsed back against the seat when sleep took over his body.

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Bruce's eyes opened, and he sat up in his bed. He didn't need to know what the date was or what time it was. He knew the loop had repeated. He knew you were in the bathroom, and he knew that his door was about to open and his family would flood the room with questions. They weren't there this time, and they didn't have to witness what he had to.

On que, the door opened, and everyone made their way into the room. Nothing was said between anyone as they all looked at Bruce, and he looked at them.

You finished up your morning routine, and stepped out of the bathroom. You let out a soft shriek when you saw everyone in your room, "You all scared me. You aren't supposed to be awake yet. I have to make my special birthday breakfast first!"

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live-laugh-lenney · 22 days

Note

Hello! Can you write a story where George or Arthur messes up and they like totally grovel over the reader? I feel like they would beg for forgiveness 😆

ohh, god lord. can you imagine the amount of grovelling?

arthur didn't mean to forget.

he was never a forgetful person; if he knew his plans were going to overrun or if he knew he'd double-booked himself, he would always make it his problem to deal with and sort out.

but with multiple video shoots happening that week that kept him busy, from a sidemen shoot to a podcast recording and then back to his own channel before he partook in a reacts video for someone else on their channel, the planned dinner with her parents had just slipped his mind.

when he walked through the front door of their flat, he was greeted with the laughter and the chatter of company. and it's in that given moment, when he sees her mum's handbag hanging on a coat hook beside her dad's coat, that he knows what he had forgotten. that he knows he messed up... big time.

rounding the corner and stepping foot in the open-plan living space of their flat, he was greeted with the biggest smile from her mum and a welcoming handshake from her dad... lessening the guilt in his belly until he was met with a fake smile and darkened eyes from yn. and the guilt only bubbled more viciously because he knew he couldn't dig himself out of this one easily.

"yn said you'd gotten stuck in a meeting with your work team, lovely. that's such a shame," her mum coos softly and she pulls arthur in for a loving hug that was tight and secure, his own arms enveloping her in a warm hug, "i know you insisted we had this dinner without you but it didn't feel the same."

he swallows back the lump in his throat and the guilt felt even worse. she lied on his behalf and made it out to be an unfortunate accident when, truly, it had simply slipped his mind. the smile on her mum's lips made him want the ground to swallow him whole. his eyes dart over to yn who occupied herself in clearing away the dirtied dessert plates from the tabletop - and he remembered her telling him that morning, before he left, how she was baking a coffee and walnut cake for them all to enjoy that night.

"we'll have to organise another one, i'm so sorry," arthur apologises before helping clean up the table, collecting the empty glasses and the cutlery that yn had left behind, "i'll cook next time since yn did this. it smells delightful."

"we had your favourite dinner, kiddo," her dad informs him and arthur looks at yn as she tries her hardest not to let her emotions get the better of her, "she's a good'un, our yn. even baked us a cake."

"she's the best," arthur smiles at her.

and he was hoping for a slight smile back in his direction to know he was off the hook and they'd talk about the whole evening later on... except he doesn't and all he sees is her jaw clench and tighten, her eyes rolling discreetly, head staying low as she piles everything up on the counter beside the sink.

they said goodbye to her parents soon after with kisses, hugs and handshakes being exchanged as well as a promise of taking an entire day off so he didn't have to miss another meal planned with them. except, deep down, he felt the guilt beginning to eat away at his insides and he knew he was minutes away from being made to feel even worse.

the door closed and before he could get his apology out, she was first to break the silence.

"don't speak to me for the night."

"yn-"

"what did i just say to you?" she sneers at him and he stares at her with sorrow in his eyes, hoping that she would come round and give him the chance to explain everything; from how he felt overworked from a week of non-stop work to how he got confused with the dates to how he wanted to make it up to her for being a forgetful muppet. "don't talk to me. i don't want to talk to you tonight."

"if you let me explain then-"

"it'll just be excuse after excuse coming out of your mouth, arthur."

he follows her around the flat like a lost puppy, scared to lose her but also wanting to plea for his forgiveness and to explain, not with the hopes of being forgiven right away but with the hopes of being understood, because he really and truly never meant to miss out on the evening with her parents. stands beside her as she washes up the dishes in the sink, watching her as if he was waiting for her orders on what she wanted him to do, mind racing as he tried to come up with the most calmest way to explain everything.

"the shoot overran. the taxi for the way home got stuck in the rush-hour traffic on its way to pick us up and we were miles from a tube station," he tries to take the plate from her hand so he could dry it and put it away but she refuses his help, placing it down on the side and swatting his hand away when he tried to pick it up, "by the time it arrived, we'd been waiting an hour for it at the site."

"doesn't help me in understanding why you never showed up. not even a text. i had to lie, arthur. to my parents!"

"i know and i'm sorry you had to do that," he places a hand on the base of her back and uses his thumb to rub gentle circles into the tee on her back, "truthfully, i did forget. okay? i forgot but-"

"i know you forgot," she huffs heavily and moves from his touch, his hand still lingering where it was once placed on her back, "please, just don't come near me. don't touch me. don't talk to me. i'm angry with you so please let me be angry with you."

"i don't want you to be," he frowns.

"then you should have thought of that before you skipped on dinner," she retorts back to him and his shoulders slump in defeat, "i'm just so upset with you."

the whole night was spent apart.

and, truth be told, they hated it.

yn hated how she still wanted to be close to him, even though he had made her feel anger. hiding in the bedroom with her laptop opposed to the television because he had taken refuge on the sofa and chosen a documentary she didn't want to intrude upon. she understood how hectic his schedule could be at times and she understood that, sometimes, he was tired and he needed reminding of things... it was a minor mistake but it had upset her and she needed her feelings to be validated and she wanted him to understand how hurt she felt.

arthur hated how he had made the mistake that lead them to being apart. sleeping on the sofa so she had all the time in the world to feel better and feel angry without him being there to add fuel to the fire. it was forgivable, what he did, but it wasn't forgettable and he knew she'd be upset for a while with the situation.

the next morning, he was awake early.

he ran to the corner shop to grab her some flowers, to grab her a card, to grab ingredients for breakfast so he could surprise her and a little goody-bag of her favourite snacks to show her just how sorry he was for what had happened. deciding on breakfast pancakes, with her favourite fruits and syrup, writing a long-winded message in the card that could explain better than he could if she was looking at him whilst he spoke it verbally.

and when she rose from her slumber, ready to forgive him, he was prepared with a table full of a surprises.

"good morning," he smiles sheepishly and she lets her eyes wander over the pile of pancakes in the middle of the table beside bowls of fruit and bottles of maple-syrup, "i made breakfast."

"you made a feast," she giggles softly, stepping towards the dining table and reaching for the card that he'd leant against a jar of nutella, "what's this?"

"it's my apology. i figured i could write it better than i could say it so," he walks towards her and sets his hands on the back of a chair, pulling it out from under the table and letting her sit down, tucking her underneath before he sat beside her, "i really am so sorry for forgetting our plans."

"it's okay," she pulls the card from the envelope and lets her eyes scan over the paragraph of his writing, her mouth soundless speaking every word he had written on the piece of paper, "i figured you were just stressed and tired. i was never going to stay angry at you."

she squeezes his knee softly and looks at him.

"i made reservations at that new london restaurant you wanted to go to, too. figured we could go with your parents," he informs her and she smiles widely, "it's on me, of course."

"arthur," she hums softly, "you need to fuck up more often."

he rolls his eyes and she giggles softly.

"i don't think so. one time, you might actually leave me and i don't know if i could cope with that," he leans over and presses a kiss to her lips, "i love you and i'm truly sorry."

"i love you too, you muppet." xx

#arthurtv #arthurtv blurbs #arthurtv imagines #arthurtv headcannons #arthurtv fics #arthur frederick #arthur frederick blurbs #arthur frederick imagines #arthur frederick fics #arthur frederick headcannons

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ddejavvu · 10 months

Note

jonathan anon again lol!!! I love him so much. how about him introducing shy!you to his mom <3 ur super nervous she won’t like you but she totally adores you

Jonathan's stepped up to slot his keys in the door, and you consider using the time he's not paying attention to you to make your escape. You could do it, beeline back to his car, hotwire it, drive off into the distance with no planned return. But then he might have to walk to school, and you don't want him to have to do that. Before you can decide to sprint anywhere, the lock clicks, and the door swings open at his push.

"Mom," He calls into the house, rather unceremoniously, which makes you nervous, "I'm home, and I brought Y/N!"

"Oh!" A voice comes from the kitchen, honey-sweet but slightly flustered, "Oh, I'll- I'll be right there!"

"Jon-!" You swat at Jonathan's shoulder, hissing at him in a panic, "You said she knew I was coming!"

"No, I said she said you could come over anytime," He corrects you, dropping his backpack on the couch, "So I brought you over today."

This is a disaster. You're now an unexpected, barely-invited guest in the Byers household, and only your boyfriend really wants you there. You've met Will a handful of times, during pick-up or drop-off or just out and about, and he seems to like you, but you're sure he doesn't want you popping up in his living room unannounced. You'd been invited for dinner by your boyfriend, but you're not sure his mother has made enough, so you're not only intruding on their life, but you're putting the extra stress of another mouth to feed on her plate, and she's going to hate you for the burden you're causing, and-

"Will you stop burning holes in the wall? That's a picture of me, you know," Jonathan scoffs, tramping over to where you'd been zoning out to panic and pulling the frame off of the wall, "You're supposed to think I'm cute."

"That's- That is cute," You wanted to respond with a lot more fire than that, due to the nature of your boyfriend's planning abilities, but admittedly, the baby photo of him in nothing but a diaper is adorable. You can see the chubby rolls of his arms and legs, and his stomach pudges out in a round shape you're sure his mother kissed a thousand times.

"-but this is not fair to your mom! She probably didn't make enough, and now I look rude for showing up unannounced, and-"

"She always makes more than enough," He assures you, setting the picture frame down on the table and taking your hands in his. He has a way of looking at you while he speaks that calms the frantic beating of your panicked heart, and you let yourself get lost in his comforting aura for a moment. "She makes one giant meal on Monday nights, then we eat the leftovers until Sunday. Your one portion will not destroy the fabric of the household, Y/N."

"But it'll be one less portion for someone else," You fret, and you know his resulting glare is meant kindly.

"Will has a bad habit of sneaking into the kitchen for midnight meals. You'll just be preventing me from waking up to hear the microwave at one in the morning, babe. You're doing everyone a favor, here. Plus, my mom really wants to meet you. She bugs me every day about bringing you here, just because you're unexpected doesn't mean you're unwanted. Okay?"

You hear frantic footsteps from the kitchen, and nod before she has a chance to catch you in a freak-out, "Okay, Jon, okay."

"Okay." He grins at you, turning in sync with you just in time to see Joyce round the corner out from the kitchen, stuffing an apron onto the counter that she's clearly just taken off.

Her face lights up when she sees you, especially when she notices that Jonathan still has one of your hands in his own. She rushes for a hug, gushing "Hello!", and you're happy to let her engulf you in her embrace.

"Hi," You return just as enthusiastically, if not a little nervous, "Hi, I- I hope I'm not intruding."

You ignore the way Jonathan huffs out a sigh at your near-apology.

"No! No," Joyce pulls back from the hug, keeping her hands on your shoulders and shaking her head, a deep frown over her features, "No honey, not at all! I mean," She brightens, eyes wide, "I was really starting to think he'd made you up, or something! I mean I've been asking for ages, I- I was starting to worry." She concludes, a little drearily. Jonathan had admitted that he was nervous to bring you over in case you were expecting something better, something nicer, something newer, but a newer house with newer contents wouldn't hold the memories you see so plainly here, and you look around to admire the photos displayed.

"It's wonderful here," You promise, feeling Joyce's hands drop to your own and squeeze, "I've never seen baby pictures of Jonathan."

"Oh, I have a bunch." She grins, and Jonathan pales beside you.

"She's seen one!" He attempts to diffuse her excitement, "The- the one on the wall, mom. She's seen me in a diaper, isn't that enough?"

"No, she needs to see you in your Donald Duck Halloween costume," She insists, "After dinner- we're having spaghetti, honey, I hope that's okay." She cuts herself off to peer worriedly at you, and you nod vigorously.

"Oh, great! Okay, after dinner, I'll get the photo albums down, alright? And we can make fun of him," She looks far too eager to tease her son, "Does that sound good?"

"That sounds great," You laugh, at the same time Jonathan groans the opposite.

"Oh, stop," She swats at his chest, "You get to see her all the time, now let me take over."

"Not if you're gonna embarrass me!" Jonathan gripes, turning to you, "Y/N, don't hold my preschool drawings against me. I've gotten better with time, I swear."

"He hasn't," Joyce stage-whispers to you, then gushes to Jonathan, "Of course you have, sweetheart."

She's tugging you off to the dinner table without another word, and you glance back with a grin at Jonathan who looks half-mortified and half-fond.

"Now, sit," She pulls a chair out at the table for you, "And talk, I wanna know everything about you!"

#jonathan byers x reader #jonathan byers imagine #jonathan byers scenario #jonathan byers oneshot #jonathan byers fanfiction #jonathan byers fanfic #jonathan byers fic #jonathan byers blurb #jonathan byers drabble #jonathan byers dialogue #jonathan byers one-shot #jonathan byers one shot #jonathan byers fluff #jonathan byers headcanons #jonathan byers hcs #jonathan byers x you #jonathan byers x y/n

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mayajadewrites · 2 months

Text

I Wish I Hated You (Levi Ackerman x Reader)

summary: You don't do second chances. Especially after you gave your heart to Levi Ackerman, and he decided to throw it away so the next person has to repair the damage. Will Levi put his ego aside and finally admit his feelings for you are far deeper than you imagined? Or is a second chance out of the question?

warnings: eventual smut, this is a slow burn

ao3

C H A P T E R F O U R : B E N E F I T S

It's been over 2 months now since your breakup. 2 months of trying to heal, 2 months of trying to rebuild yourself and the idea that you don't need Levi to survive.

You've started to get dressed again - making sure you spend time on self care and actually caring about your appearance. Work has been the same, the coffee shop has become one of your safe havens honestly. It's like your worries fade away when you walk through the door and you can live a different life than the one outside.

You're about to clock out from your opening shift when Hange strolls in.

"Hi my love!" Hange leaned on the counter, tapping her fingers. "I have someone I want to set you up with."

"Hange..." You raised your eyebrow. "I don't need to be set up with anyone."

"You need to get laid." Hange doubled down. "If anything, you'll have a little fun. What's wrong with that!"

You stare at Hange for a moment. You haven't thought of laying in a bed with anyone else besides Levi. You can't imagine someone else touching your skin, caressing your curves, taking care of you in every way to make sure you reach that high.

It has to happen eventually.

"Fine. Who is it?"

"Great! It's this cute intern at my job. He seems fun and young."

"I'm 29 years old Hange, please tell me he's old enough to drink."

"Oh yes of course! He's 23."

You press your palm to your forehead. "I don't want anything serious. I would want just something casual."

"Well then hopefully he doesn't fall in love with you! Are you done with work?"

"I am." You slide your apron off, pressing buttons on the register to clock out. "Do you want something before I leave?"

"I'll never say no to coffee."

Hange has the intern text you, turns out his name is Jean. Hange sent a picture of him to you before he text you - he's not Levi, that's for sure. He's cute though. He has light brown hair with brown eyes to match. He's a lot taller than Levi, which means he's a lot taller than you.

Jean seems to be on the same type of time as you. He doesn't want anything serious, only fun. He's funny and sends you good morning and good night texts. Seemingly the perfect friend with benefits.

Jean invites you out to a club on Friday night with him and his friends, which includes Mikasa. This eases your anxiety since you'll know at least one person there.

Jean: It's all my work friends. I'm sure you know most of them.

You: It'll be nice to see them. Is Hange going?

Jean: I don't think Hange ever says no to drinks.

When Friday rolls around, you cause a tornado in your closet looking for an outfit. You pick out a lacy corset top with jeans that hug your curves, and a pair of square toe black heels. Your hair is styled half up, half down with some of your hair framing your face. You add glittery lipgloss as the cherry on top of the look, carefully tracing over your lips as you look in the mirror.

This is the first time you're actually hanging out with Jean. It's also the first time in a long time that you're going clubbing.

You take a picture in your full length mirror and send it to Hange for approval.

Hange: Holy SHIT!! You look hot! Jean won't be able to keep his hands off you. Be prepared to take him home ;)

You: That's why I took an everything shower. Lol.

You grab your purse and call your uber to head to the club. It's 10:30 PM - Jean said he was going to be there around 10 and you wanted to be late but not too late to where he thinks he's being stood up.

You walk into the club and immediately spot Hange at the bar dancing like no one is watching. You smile to yourself as you tap her on her shoulder.

"You made it!!" Hange practically jumped on you to hug you. "Jean is right there." She pointed.

You make your way to where Jean was standing, which was in a circle with Mikasa, Eren, and a few others.

"Hey!" Jean gave you a light hug, his eyes tracking your movements. "You look amazing."

"Thank you." You smile before looking at Mikasa. "Hi you!"

"You never come out!" Mikasa said. "I'm so happy Jean got you out. Eren's grabbing me a drink, he'll love to see you!"

Jean introduced you to the rest of the group: Armin, Connie, Sasha, Reiner and Annie.

Jean got you a drink and stood close to you as the music blared. The group talked about work projects coming up and how stressful they are. Jean's hand snaked around your waist, pulling you a bit closer to him. He smells good - he definitely bought a strong cologne for this occasion. You lean into him, letting your ass graze over his pelvis.

You both start to move to the beat, now Jean's face is in your neck. He kisses your skin gently as his hips move in time with yours. The liquor starts to course through your veins, giving you more courage. You spin yourself around to face Jean, planting a kiss on his lips. His right hand lays on your cheek as he continues kissing you, his pinky moving back and forth on your skin.

You let your body mend with Jean's, letting yourself have this moment. You haven't kissed anyone but Levi in years and this new pair of lips are taking care of you. Jean is fun. Jean is happy.

You pull away for a moment to take a sip of your drink, watching Jean's eyes trail over your curves. You smile at him until you hear a familiar voice.

"Where is she?" Guess who.

"You're such a cock block." Hange rolls her eyes. "She's having FUN. Leave her alone."

"This was your idea wasn't it four eyes." His voice is getting closer. "Ah, my lovely staff."

You turn to see Levi, dressed in a grey sweater, blank pants and a pair of brand new sneakers. Erwin isn't far behind him.

"Oh, boss!" Jean waves and then puts his hand back on your hip.

Oh shit. He doesn't know you dated Levi. Did no one warn him?

Levi's eyes went straight to Jean's hand. If looks could kill, Jean would be dead.

Mikasa and Eren looked at each other - the only two besides Erwin and Hange that know of yours and Levi's relationship.

Levi's eyes fall to you and you swear you can see fire in them. You lean your ass back into Jean, letting your head fall on his chest.

"Hi Levi."

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi x reader #levi ackerman smut #attack on titan #levi ackerman fanfic #aot #levi ackerman attack on titan

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halloweenbitch2764 · 1 year

Note

HI :)

An you please write a Bo Sinclair x reader where the reader is a really jealous and protective person ?

I feel like Bo's reaction would be hilarious!

Thank you for reading my ask,

-PhantomCat 💜

Thanks for the ask hon! I can definitely give you that request.

Bo with Jealous Reader

With how few and far between people could be, you didn't have to be protective or jealous often

In ways that made you being jealous and protective MUCH more noticeable when it did happen

Bo had a hunch you might be jealous from the way you acted when the last group had came

So of course he needed to test that theory

It didn't take long for another group to come by (surprisingly)

You and him were in the gas station/mechanic shop while he fixed a car he had been working on for a while

You liked just being around him so you didn't mind hanging out while he worked

Besides he always played pretty good music

At least when the station worked

Suddenly a car pulls into the station, next to a gas pump

There's three people in the car, two girls and a guy

It's clear the one girl and guy were a couple

He opened the door for her and helped her out and they held hands from there

The third girl was dressed rather...skimpy

It made sense given that it was summer

You had on a tank top and shorts since the AC in the station never really worked right

They walked into the station and the man approached you

"Hey my car started making a weird rattling noise and this was the closest town. Do y'all by chance have someone who can help me?"

You smiled and nodded

You'd eased into the role of helping lure the people in

It's not like you really did any of the dirty work

Bo had heard the chime of the bell above the door and walked over, wiping his hands off with a rag

You noticed immediately

The third girl "accidentally" pulled her top down further and stood in a way that accentuated her curves

Your blood immediately started to boil

You didn't know but Bo could feel your attitude change immediately

He nearly caught himself smirking as he started talking to the man about his car while the mans girlfriend stood beside him

"Can I help you with anything?" You asked the girl through gritted teeth

She smirked

"Yeah can you hook me up with him?" She pointed at Bo

Your fists clenched and unclenched behind the counter

"Actually that's my boyfriend, thank you very much."

She didn't seem deterred

"He's smokin hot, honey. How'd you manage to snag him?"

She seemed almost disgusted

You knew you couldn't pummel her as much as you wanted to.

"Well it'll be a while til your car is fixed. Want to come with me to the museum and I'll tell you friends to come after?"

She let her eyes sweep over Bo before reluctantly agreeing

You walked over to Bo and the couple, informing them where you two would be going, and they nodded

Bo's lips twitched into a smirk for a second

You looked bloodthirsty

It was rare to see you THAT upset

You took the girl to the museum, forcing some small talk (which you made sure stayed away from talking about Bo)

Once you entered you let her start looking around before heading off to Vincent's basement

You silently opened and closed the door behind you before heading down the stairs

Vincent was sculpting his newest creation

"Hey Vinny can you do me a huge favor?"

He cocked his head to the side a bit to signal he was listening and to continue

"There's a bitch upstairs I need you to kill. I don't want her in the museum so make sure you kill her in the slowest and most painful way you can. Okay?"

He raised his eyebrow behind his mask but nodded, not questioning you

You thanked him before heading back up

Vincent had rarely seen you that angry before and was just glad he wasn't on the receiving end

The girl, who you learned was named Liz, was still looking around

"Hey I forgot something at the station. Feel free to keep looking, I'll be back soon."

She nodded and you headed back to the garage

Nobody was there and you figured Bo had done his usual routine of telling them he forgot a fanbelt at the house

After a while Bo came back, letting you know they had been taken care of

He thought the jealousy was simultaneously hot as fuck and hilarious

He met you halfway and planted a kiss on you which you returned

"You know you're extremely hot when you get so jealous, you know it?"

He squeezed your ass and kissed your neck playfully when you laughed

#bo sinclair #bo sinclair fanfic #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair imagine #house of wax (2005)#house of wax 2005 #vincent sinclair #slasher x reader #slasher x reader headcanons #bo sinclair headcanons #phantomcat394

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undercoverpena · 2 years

Text

push his buttons

bucky barnes x fem!reader wordcount: 2.2k warnings: mentions of smutty behaviour. an: oh, a brooding bucky, how I've missed you.

masterlist | inbox

He’s staring at you—no smile, no smirk. He’s been doing it the entire time you’ve been pretending to ignore him. Because you’re annoying the absolute shit out of him, even if you're not doing a single thing.

Sometimes you do this. Push his buttons.

You used to do it with words, annoying him because it humoured you. Sam repeatedly tells him he’s an easy target, easy to wind up. The silence is worse.

Knowing he can’t leave, this one room is the place the two of you need to be.

A simple task, one he usually does alone, yet somehow, you're here. Even if he asks for you not to be, even if he requests anyone but you. It's still you. You who stares at him when you think he doesn't see; you who keeps crossing and uncrossing your leg, either through nerves or agitation—Bucky can't tell.

Because he's mad himself.

With you. At you. At himself.

The lines are all blurring together in an awful mix he can’t unravel.

Mad that you’re here and not safely back at the new HQ Sam and he built. That you're not stuck behind a desk like he’d wanted. You're here, fuming with him.

"Send her home, Sam." "We need her. She's good, talented. Hell, you even vouched for her." His face must have said it all. "Oh, but of course. How stupid of me. Now you don't want her there because she's your girlfriend." "She's... she's not my girlfriend." "Yeah. And I don't have wings."

He throws a stare. Only it doesn't land, not as you look surprised at something on your phone. You've been on it since the people you were keeping tabs on, left the room next door.

Having grown so used to hearing you, whether teasing, taunting or flirting with him, the silence is deafening. So the fact something has stolen your attention means he suddenly needs, and wants, to know what it is.

Jealous.

That's what his therapist said. He grows attachments and becomes jealous. Something to do with the fact he's never had a chance to have anything solid for years. Constantly worrying it'll be taken away.

His own version of fight or flight, or so she said. It makes him more stubborn, more arrogant, and more difficult.

And, because of that, he can't speak first.

He will not be broken by your silence.

Not when he's been subjected to so much worse.

So, he pretends not to notice. Trying not to show how much you’re bothering him, but he’s assuming you can tell. Because you're clever. Ridiculously intuitive. Emotional. All the things he usually finds tiresome, because he doesn't need a person trying to get him to think about how people feel.

Not when he feels so much, but can't let it out.

He doesn't need another person thinking two steps ahead when he's trying to wrap his head around the step they're already on. Because while you're clever, and great at finding a way out of tough spots, he's always the muscle. The one who will pull you from danger, deflect a bullet, knife or another weapon, because you're not strong.

You just pretend to be.

He assumed it was why you began taunting him a year ago. Picking him as an easy target to wind up, no one else in the new Cap team biting as much as him. Snapping back at you, wishing for silence he never gets. Until your comments, turned flirtatious, and all his hatred melted as quickly as your comments shifted.

Because even with his age, he knows when someone is flirting with him.

"Anyone tell you that you look good for a man almost one hundred and ten?" He'd rolled his eyes, secretly not complaining in the slightest. "Is the handsome man, computing?"

He's just grateful you couldn’t sleep that one night all those months ago. Coming down for coffee, all sleepy, hair all out of shape. A dopey smile and a shuffle of your feet before you slid onto the barstool at the kitchen counter.

It’s then he learnt you were softer, gentler than you showed him in the day. Behind those big eyes and a large smile, you were quite funny. The coffee and that conversation at three in the morning turned him from stoic to smiling.

That night, you’d shuffled back to the doorframe, eyes twinkling and smile a little more playful. ‘Maybe we’d sleep better with one another, Barnes?’ His heart having thumped louder in his ears, more violently in his chest. ‘Can’t be any worse than drinking shitty coffee at all hours of the morning. As friends, of course’.

It proved how smart you were, how cunning. Not that he would ever complain. He knew it wasn’t an accident when you curled up to him, even if you said it was; it wasn’t an accident when his lips found yours like he whispered it was.

Everything else after wasn’t an accident, either. When his fingers snaked into your shorts; the way your teeth left a mark on his neck. The way his body slotted against yours, the way you whimpered his name as he coated his fingers in your want.

"You, Barnes, are something else."

He wore that smirk all day, not even pushing his luck about going to your door the next night, instead of finding you in his sheets already. "I thought of trying to sleep alone, but it seemed more fun to be here." Bucky isn't sure he ever got his t-shirt off quick enough, needing your fingers to touch his sides, pulling him in, digging your nails to the point you leave half-moons in his skin.

And then it became a habit.

Then it bled into the day, him seeking you out to bring you a bottle of water, order food with you. Until he was asked whether you were his girlfriend and he froze.

"What are we?" "Oh." "Oh?" "C'mon, Barnes. You caught me off guard. I didn't really expect this from you." "Because I'm a robot?" "Because you've been through a lot, I didn't want to push. I'm not some cold-hearted bitch, Barnes. It's not like you've had ample amount of time to date with the three billion fights and wars you've had to partake in."

And then, he kissed you. Turning the light off, and sliding out of his clothes as he heard you do the same. He had your back to his chest, hair in a clump in his fist as he slid himself in and out, hearing you chant his name, teasing you for as long as he could handle it.

Wanting it never to end.

Having a feeling once it did, you'd end things. Tell him he's a quick fuck, a friend, or something else which would bruise him more than a bullet or fist ever would.

Instead, when your breathing catches back up with you and he's lying beside you, tracing circles with the index finger on his metal hand. You turn your face, trying to find him in the darkness. 'There's no one else for me, Barnes. Just you,' you had whispered. "Is there for you?"

And he said nothing.

Not even when you dressed and asked him to say something, not even as you yanked open his door, the light illuminating the tears on your cheek.

And he's said nothing since. Nothing outside of mission requirements, anyway.

“You got your wish, I'm being pulled.”

Your voice yanks him out of his thoughts. Eyes locking onto you as you roll your head on your neck, not looking up.

He throws a more intense glare, hoping it'll be enough to force you to meet his gaze. It's all he can do as he tries to stop himself from crossing the small space and dropping to his knees.

Because he's aware he fucked up.

He's aware of that, especially as he watches you stand, you padding around the small place as you retrieve the few things you pulled from your bag. Your head bent, hiding any expression with your hair.

And it's that which pulls him to his feet.

Fingers twitching by his side as he sighs, biting the inside of his mouth as he does so. Unsure what to do next. Only thinking about standing up, and making it right, but not sure how to.

“Gun,“ he says.

Watching you turn on your heels to meet his gaze for the first time in fifteen minutes, eyes narrowing. Unsure what he said, until he holds his hand out, waiting.

Even if he really doesn't want to take it.

Even if he wants to say something else.

Because it would be easy to tell you that you were it. That he was so over the cliff in love with you, he's had a ring in his top drawer. That he had meant to say all of that, he had meant to tell you how he fucking adored you weeks before people made comments around HQ.

But, he hadn't. Because he’s not honest. He can’t be honest. So afraid to have anything with meaning, just in case it comes undone all over again.

Placing your gun in his hand, the coolness of it against his flesh makes him swallow.

"You are a real piece of shit," you whisper, looking down before turning back to your bag. "And an asshole for letting me fall for you when you were going to ignore me the moment it got real."

And it's killing him.

Because you're not wrong. He is an asshole, a piece of shit.

But not for those reasons.

It all builds horribly, sitting on him, squashing him. That every moment outside of the ones he's been sharing with you since that night has been horrendous. It's been awful, lonely, and boring. That even when he's having a bad day, it isn't a terrible day when you're there.

That he wants you to marry him, even if he's ancient, even if he's stubborn and frustrating. Even if you have an issue with listening to him, even if he has to bail you out of things.

Instead of any of that, he rolls his jaw and licks his lips. "I know."

Two words, and the room stills.

He should have guessed it. Anything close to the truth does things to places, it makes room quiet, makes hearts thunder and people freeze. His comment, those two fucking words, doing the same.

"You matter to me."

Turning, you meet his stare, as he breathes in and out.

"But, you know that. You know that because I'm many things but I can't keep shit to myself, even if I can from everyone else," he says, checking the safety before throwing the gun on the bed. "I expected to lose you that night, for you to end it. So, when you didn't, I froze.

"Because, even if I brood, and stew, I also am very much in fucking love with you. So, hate me for being a piece of shit and an asshole, but don't think for a second I don't love you back."

You glare, but it’s softer, your jaw a little less tight and a touch slacker. You don't pull away when he moves closer, placing his hand on your cheek, rubbing a gentle circle against your skin.

“You let me walk out of your door because... what?”

He snorts, running his tongue over his teeth.

He thinks of lying.

Making up something like he'd been warned from hurting you, even if it wasn't a lie but rather something he'd chosen to ignore. He thought of admitting it was because he hasn't been close with someone, like this, since before he was shipped off to war.

But you know that.

Because you know him.

“I... don't know.”

You step closer, face still hard to read, as you glare into his eyes. "Hear me now, James. You ever do that again, and by that I mean let me leave a room thinking something that isn't true, and I'll learn how to remove your arm and shove it so far down your throat your fingers will make friends with your spleen."

Slowly, he smiles. It spreads over his face, meeting his eyes as your head tilts, a twitch occurring at the corners of your lips.

"You understand me?"

Nodding, he wraps a hand around your waist. "Loud and clear."

"Perfect," you say, pressing a kiss to his cheek, "I'll see you when you're back."

Frowning, momentarily forgetting all about you being called away, he reaches for your hand.

"Oh. I'm still needed elsewhere, but it's nice to know you've decided to act your age," you say, with a smirk, pulling your hand from his as you move to the door with your bag. "Enjoy the peace and quiet, Barnes."

#bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x fem!reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes recs #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x oc #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader smut

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bellaxgiornata · 11 months

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Who wants a little sneak peak at All These Years' next installment titled "Planting a Seed of Thought" (I've tweaked the title a bit)? It's an excerpt from around the middle of the installment (which is already about 3k words so I'm not sure how long it'll end up...). You can find the teaser below the cut! I'm just excited and I want to watch you all speculate already 😅 Hopefully Part 8 will be done soon and then Part 9 is still tentatively titled "A Truth Revealed." But hey, don't get too excited with what you think is happening. This series is my angst baby after all...

“Or make him think I’m being absolutely weird,” you said. “I don’t compliment Matt unless we’re having heart to hearts. And I definitely don’t just touch his arm.” “Well there you go!” she chirped. “He’ll pick up on something then tonight.” “Wait,” you began, panic flooding you yet again. “You want me to flirt with him tonight? Where you and Foggy can witness my terrible attempts?” Karen shrugged a shoulder easily. “I don’t think they’ll be terrible attempts, but why wait? Do you want to risk losing your chance?” she countered. Shoulders dropping, you realized she had a point. Matt often worked fast with finding a new fling or someone to take on a date. And it’s not like you saw him frequently enough to know you’d have another opportunity soon. “Fine,” you relented with a sigh. “I’ll try to flirt with him tonight.” “Great!” Karen replied, a wide smile spreading over her lips. “I’m excited to see how it goes!” “That makes one of us,” you grumbled, focusing back on your closet.

#ATY teaser snippet #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock angst

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findafight · 2 years

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Byler is sooooo good like childhood best friends?? Would do nearly anything for each other? Extreme pining?? Phenomenal. it makes me crazy. but also. Also. Unrequited Byler. For Mike.

Consider, season four fix it everything is mostly fine back in Hawkins, and Will is finally like "I can't keep doing this to myself. I have to have some self respect!!" And Jonathan and Argyle are like yes!! Yes little man!! Do it! We love you! You do what is best for you!!

So Will starts the slow process of Getting Over Mike. It's hard, because they're friends, and all their friends are friends, but worth it. He's tied so much of himself up into Mike that it hurts to disentangle from him, but he does it. Slowly.

Over the summer of '86, with the upside down actually gone and collapsed, Will gains more confidence in himself, more relaxed and self assured, not second guessing everything he does.

The rest of the party is thrilled to see him, to have him back, and even if he's stiff around Mike, they figure it's because Mike and El broke up (or, well, El broke up with Mike because he couldn't say he loved her, and that he was obviously hurting Will, and a great number of other things) and El is Will's sister. Dustin and Lucas fight over who gets to introduce Will to Eddie and are both beaten by Steve who walks in, Eddie on his heels and goes "hey will! This is Eddie, he's a GN or whatever too." With a smile. (Dustin shrieks to correct him but Will sees the smile Steve has and suspects he knows what he's doing.)

So the summer goes, the boys play dnd and talk about girlfriends or lack thereof, and Will barely squirms when he thinks about how he doesn't want one. Jonathan said it was ok. That he'd love him always and that his friends would too, but it's scary. It's always going to be a bit scary, he thinks.

And Will notices things. He notices how, when Jonathan reassures him it'll be fine, his eyes catch on Argyle smiling and nodding along to something Steve is saying. How Argyle always grins a bit too wide when he spots Jon enter a room, a bit too dopey; how their fingers graze against each other.

He notices how Eddie doesn't really mention girls; how Jeff doesn't talk about anyone really. How Steve will smirk at Robin and gently nudge her sometimes and she'll splutter and laugh; how Eddie and Steve will grin and tease and lean into each other's spaces and lean away again blushing but not awkward.

He refuses to notice Mike.

Of course, everybody notices when something shifts between Eddie and Steve, how they start to slot together easily, less blushing. How, when Dustin is asking Steve why he and Robin still aren't dating, Steve shrugs and says "because I'm dating Eddie."

Will notices how Jonathan's eyes go wide, and he looks like he wants to ask a question but doesn't. Mike, however, does.

"so, like, you were faking the whole time?"

And Steve raises a singular eyebrow and explains that for him, someone's gender was never really part of the equation of whether he liked them or not. He was just kinda slow on the uptake that that isn't the case for everyone. How sometimes for some people it does matter, but they like boys and girls and people not either of those (which Will didn't know you could be, inbetween or outside of boy and girl.) He wasn't faking. He liked Nancy Wheeler and he liked those other girls and he likes Eddie.

Then Will notices Argyle nodding and smiling, Jonathan gaping a little bit, brows scrunched together, Nancy chewing her lip. He decides to leave that.

Nothing actually changes because of the revelation, just that now the Party knows. Or. Nothing changes in regards to Steve and Eddie. Jonathan and Argyle, it seems, do plan on changing. Will comes home one day to find Argyle sitting on the counter holding Jon's face tenderly, pecking kisses around his face. He walks out the door and stomps noisily up the steps to give them a chance.

And slowly Will notices that it doesn't hurt, not anymore, being around Mike. Doesn't make his chest ache with longing or his stomach turn.

He thinks he'll always love Mike, in a special way, in the way Steve once told him he still loved Nancy. That special place a first love that broke your heart burrowed but you wouldn't change it because it was important to you. Helped you grow. Steve said that no love is wasted, even if it didn't last in the way you expected it to. He said it with a smile, that day. That Maybe it ends or maybe it fizzles or maybe it just changes into some other kind of love. And that's good too.

When Steve talks like that, Will wonders when he got so wise, and then wonders when he himself got so wise. A side effect, perhaps, of getting your heart broken by a Wheeler.

Will doesn't think he's actually in love with Mike anymore. And that's good.

He tells Jon first. That he thinks he and Mike can be friends, that he wants them to be friends, that it doesn't really hurt as much anymore, to hear Mike complain about girls. Jon hugs him. Tells him he's proud of him. Tells him he's so strong and brave and is growing up so much.

Will hangs out with the party and just. Sorta tells them one day that he's gay. He never actually said the words before, because Jonathan just knew, but it's a sort of thrilling experience, how he'd imagine skydiving to be. El smiles and holds his hand. Lucas and Dustin smile and clamber to hug him, thanking him for telling them and trusting them and that they're so happy for him. Robin highfives him, welcomes him to the club. Eddie ruffles his hair and smiles. Steve just says "good job figuring yourself out, little man!" And Will laughs.

Mike just stares.

It hurts, but not as much as it would have six, four, or even a month ago. Will shrugs it off as they get on with their plans for the day.

And then, somehow, it's been a year since they beat vecna, and El is happier than she's ever been. Will is too. They can both say they are completely over Mike Wheeler.

Will is glad, because both of them have had too much stress for their whole lives. One day, in the Hopper-Byers livingroom, as they all do their own thing and bask in each other's company, she tells Hopper she thinks she's like Steve. Hop just looks at her blankly, Will and Joyce and Jonathan watching, and she shakes her head, saying "I am not always a girl and not always a boy and not always either. I do not care if the person I like is a boy or a girl or like me. It is nice to just be. To wear fun clothes that are comfy and to like someone who likes me. That is how I am like Steve."

And oh. That makes sense. It makes sense for El and it makes sense for Steve. Will gets why Steve carefully said 'boys and girls and people not either or both' when he came out. It makes something warm bloom in Will's chest that someone would be careful like that, for someone else's sake, even if they weren't sure, if it was just in case. Makes him so happy that El has someone like her, because he knows how lonely it is being different and she has already been different most of her life.

El tells the party the next day, the same exact way. She grins at Steve, who is smiling through tears, and thanks him for explaining it to her. Dustin, once again, nearly tackles her in a hug, stopped only by Max's crutches as she heaves El into a spin, kissing her cheek. Mike thanks her for telling them.

So it goes, sophomore year bleeding into junior year, all the petty dramas of highschool overshadowing what happened in the upsidedown. Robin and Eddie and Steve follow Jonathan and Argyle to Chicago, Nancy meeting them when she's finished school, and tell the Party to call. At the send off, Robin wraps Will in a tight hug, whispering that she gets it, gets knowing without having the words to talk about it. How she's proud of her little buddy and he'd better give her all the gossip about the party, as though Max isn't taking diligent notes to share with her.

Will stands beside Mike, leaning against him, as they watch Dustin and Steve sob into each other's shoulder, and is happy they're friends.

A few weeks after, in October, Mike starts acting really weird

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hallwords · 1 year

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just a silly lil one-shot

...

tw for terminal illness, allusion to possible suicide, death, and grief total word count 3980 status completed(?)

He meets her in a café.

She is not the first and she will not be the last, but she is different, unique, and he knows the moment he sees her that she will break his heart.

She's new. He can tell because she looks stressed as hell, clumsily preparing a customer's order and following after her more experienced coworker like a lost puppy. Her blonde hair is in disarray, looking more like hay than anything that belongs on a person's head. Strands of gold have slipped free of her ponytail, cascading behind her like the path of water on too-shallow streams. Her eyes are wide with something akin to hysteria, rings of blue darting to every corner of the small space behind the counter.

She looks like she's on the verge of a mental breakdown.

She has also not noticed him standing directly in front of her. He's been staring at her for the past ten seconds now.

Make that fifteen.

Now twenty.

He clears his throat, loudly, pursing his lips against a smile when she jumps out of her skin. She straightens up, wheezes through a breath of air, and barely has the mind to put on a smile (grimace) before she sucks in another harsh breath through gritted teeth and says, "Hi, howareyoudoinghowmayItakeyourorder?"

He blinks, eyebrows disappearing behind his bangs.

She huffs out a pained chuckle. "S-Sorry," she tacks on, wringing her hands together behind her back—a common nervous gesture. "I... I'm new. Like, very. Real— Really, really new. Ha." She shakes her head, as if to scramble her mind back into working order, and yanks her hands up to grip either side of the register. "Yeah, you-you probably knew that. Uhm... Right. Order. What... What can I get you, sir?" Her eyes widen impossibly further at that, and she hurries to correct herself: "I-I mean... Sir, right? It's... Uhm. I didn't mean to-to assume or anything. I—"

This time, he can't stop his laugh. He tries to hide it by clearing his throat again, but the way her face twists into a pout (Adorable, comes an unbidden thought) proves he failed.

"You're fine," he says. Despite already knowing exactly what he wants, he allows his eyes to stray back to the menu on the wall behind her, letting his gaze linger in however much time it'll take for the poor girl to get herself back together. When the student behind him starts tapping an impatient rhythm on the counter, he says, "I'd like one of your soy iced vanilla lattes. Eight shots of espresso, seven packs of sugar, three creams. Largest size. Maybe add in some caramel, I've..."

His eyes return to her.

She's staring at him in a daze. Probably has been for longer than socially acceptable. Not that he's one to say, considering he'd done so for longer when she was zoned out behind the register.

"What," is all she says.

His lips curl into a smile. This might take a while.

——

"What's your name?" she asks, marker in shaky hand and cup in other shaky hand.

"Sage," he says.

"Oh, cool," she replies. "I'm Zoey." The introduction is brief, automatic, off-handed. She's stumbling away through his order before he gets the chance to comment, to tell her that it's a nice name.

Zoey. It's Greek and stands for "life," appropriately representing "eternal life." If she wasn't spilling coffee grains all over the floor, he'd tell her that it was ironic, considering that she'll die within the next three years.

————————

Sage spends a lot of his time in cafés. The popular ones, especially—the ones always bustling with people. You'd expect someone like him to be on the opposite side of reality from anything that breathes, but Sage has learned that avoidance leads to nothing. The inevitability of outliving everyone is just that—inevitable. To try escaping fate is a feat reserved for fools, after all, and Sage's curse of an immortal body and a mortal heart is something he must simply accept.

Though if he hadn't the knowledge of when and how everyone he will ever come to love will die, then perhaps keeping himself sane throughout the years would be more... manageable. Perhaps if the countdown was not reserved only for those he is destined to love but for everyone, he wouldn't be as broken. But for him to see numbers hovering over people he wouldn't bat an eye at otherwise, for him to be told who he is to love and for how long he is capable of loving them...

It hurts.

Alas, the world despises everyone unfairly and unequally, and Sage is no exception. He can only live. Forever, in an eternal cycle of heartbreak.

"Do you believe in soulmates?" Zoey asks him one day.

Sage sometimes finds it amusing how his younger self wouldn't be here with her. He was harsh and bitter then, unwilling to accept what had happened, what he had done to himself, froth dusting his lips as he snapped at anyone who dared to get close, afraid to get his spirit torn to pieces again. Because there was always something to tear, he found out eventually, no matter how empty he felt.

But now, Sage is too tired to be at war. Let the world be cruel. Sage knows that she only has so much time, so he might as well make the most of it.

Sage is allowing himself to fall, is the one pushing to be closer, is someone who wants to love. Perhaps it's delusion. Perhaps it's a mistake. Perhaps he has grown so used to the pain that he now actively seeks it. Perhaps he's lost his mind. The details are irrelevant.

Sage has chosen to approach Zoey, ignored the numbers floating above her strawberry-blonde head, and has said, a gentle smile on his lips, "I'd like to get to know you better."

And he has. He wants to know everything about her. He's too old to continue drowning in regrets.

In the past year he's spent listening to her every word, he's learned so much. She likes the color brown, prefers cats over dogs, and killed a cactus when she was thirteen. She has a family: an annoying older brother named Zach and a mother named Zaira. She considers it creative that their names begin with the letter Z. She has a crush on her classmate, Elijah, but can't bring herself to confess. She spends so much time reading fanfiction and binge-watching anime that she worries she no longer has a life.

She wants to be a fashion designer. She wants to go to France. She wants to marry the stranger she met at a bus stop when she was fifteen years old. She wants to summon the courage to write her number on a napkin for a cute customer. She wants to get enough money to buy a house by the ocean. She wants three cats. She wants a good husband. She wants to raise two kids.

She won't be able to graduate.

Sage wants to be young again. He wants his anger back so he can curse the world for everything it's done. It would be a human thing to do.

He thinks being human again would be quite nice.

"Sage?" she prompts, and when his eyes clear and he snaps back to attention, she only smiles endearingly at him, rolling her eyes as she inhales what's left of her watermelon slushy—her favorite.

"Sorry," he says. He isn't. She's used to this by now. He curls the edge of his lip the tiniest bit, tilts his head in a way that would make many swoon. "I was busy admiring your eyes. They're quite beautiful, you know? Ravishing, almost. Do you know of the word 'pulchritudinous?' Well, I must say that those rings upon your pupils are most effervescent azure—"

She merely rolls those beautiful eyes again, unfazed. He knows she does not love him romantically, so he does not love her romantically either. He thinks he lost all ability to love someone that way. He thinks he's going to lose all ability to love at all. But Sage needs to have fun sometimes or he'd lose his mind.

"Flirt," she accuses.

"If the shoe fits."

She pops another of the café's crackers in her mouth. Not the crackers sold at the café she works at, mind. The ones at the rival café are better, she says, bold traitor that she is, so she always drags him here whenever she's on break for the "superior treats."

("Isn't there some kind of unwritten law that prohibits baristas from ordering from their employer's greatest fiends?" Sage had commented when they took their place at the end of the line.

Zoey simply huffed and turned to tell him, "Last I checked, no one gives ten shits about me wearing a Café le Restaurant apron at Grains de Café." He's always thought the names uncreative. "I'm free to come and go as I please... On break, of course."

Sage leaned down their six-inch height difference to conspiratorially whisper, "That barista is side-eyeing you. Perhaps he's dredging up a contingency plan to eliminate his vile competition."

Zoey punched his shoulder. Hard. Enough for him to flinch, actually, and it made him happy, seeing that she was still so strong. "Shut," she said, "and stop talking like you were born in the late Victorian Era... or some... overly pretentious, nerdy madman. You're making me feel decades younger than you. I'm pretty sure our age difference is only four years, not four centuries."

Sage only smiled.)

Now, at the table farthest from everyone else, with another ten minutes left of her break, she adds, impolitely (her mouth is very much full), "You haven't answered my question."

"Hmm?"

"Yep," she goes on. "Do you believe in soulmates?"

He arches his brow. "What brought this on?"

"I read too much fanfiction," she answers curtly. "Now, c'mon, tell me, tell me, tell—"

"Alright, alright," he says. "No need to get so rowdy."

"Ew. I hate that word. You should die."

She's so silly sometimes.

He makes a show of thinking, and she leans forward, impatient. Hand on his chin and forehead creased, he makes a low, noncommittal hum, and says, "No."

I believe in doomed souls, he never says. Souls that split each other apart.

Her eyebrows fly into the heavens. "Wellllll, okaayyyy," she says. "Ignorance. 'Tis ignorance that makes you think such, surely. I'm fixing that. What if I tell you all about them—" she glances at her watch— "with the seven minutes I have until I go back to being a suffering member of society? Maybe I can convince you that they exist, hmm?"

He chuckles. "Sure."

At that, she lifts her cup of hot chocolate (she ordered it despite Sage's warning that it doesn't mix well with watermelon slushies) in an offer for a toast, just because she can. He humors her, again, his own mug of hot chocolate clinking gently against hers. She tips her head back and chugs it all down like some sort of drunkard.

She could drink if she wanted to, he thinks. Alcohol, that is. Today's her twenty-first birthday. She could do whatever she wanted, including getting piss-drunk. She has time.

She has a year and a half to live.

...

still interested?

this funky mess is a part of my still-growing collection of one-shots on my wattpad page. you can read the rest here!

i'm planning on turning this concept into a novel one day. if you're interested in seeing what happens after the events of the one-shot, be sure to vote and interact with this post by any means you'd like!

(that way, i'll know people want to know more.)

let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

#writeblr #original fiction #original work #short story #one shot #reblogs highly appreciated!!!#as this allows more people to see my bullshit :)#my writing #my work #ew1n0 #sage #zoey #my posts

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purpleenhypen0-0 · 10 months

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𝑃𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒♡

𝘈 𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘫𝘸 𝘧𝘧☻

I felt my heart drop into my stomach. I was both dizzy and numb, as I stood in front of my new school. I waited for someone to tell me I was dreaming, that I was just having a nightmare. You may be wondering how I got here in the first place...

I felt a hand touch my shoulder, gently shaking it causing me to wake from my dream time. "Y/n...y/n wake up. Your father and I need to talk to you." My mother spoke. I learned upwards and stretched my arms over my head, letting out a small yawn. "Get dressed and come downstairs darling. It's important." Important? I rolled out of bed and got changed, leaving my room to go downstairs.

When I came down nothing seemed out of the usual. Mom was cooking the last of breakfast and dad was reading the morning newspaper. "Ah there she is!" My dad said in an over exaggerated way causing me to giggle. "Come sit y/n." I walked over to the table and sat in my usual seat, right across from my father.

"I'm sure your mother told you we had to have a talk with you." I sighed "What kind of talk?" I was praying it wasn't another sex education, and why it's important to wait, remembering the suffering in the last talk not just for me but my parents. "No no, of course not." Mom said from the counter, fixing plates of food.

"See... everyone in this family knows I love my job." I sat back, curious now. "Well, recently, I was offered one just like it. And I felt the best option would be to take it while the opportunity was there." I wondered what all the tension was about, with such great news.

"That's amazing dad. How far away?" He took a short breath, causing me to raise an eyebrow in confusion. "That's the thing sweetheart. If I want this job we're going to have to move to Korea."

His frowning figure stared at me, waiting for a response. I felt I couldn't respond. I'd lived in Japan my whole life, sixteen years to be exact. Why move now? My dad was making a perfect amount of money at his office. Mom and I were happy at home. I had great friends at school. My life was perfect to say the least.

"B-but why. You make enough money here right?" I shuddered. "Darling your father should take all the extra money we could get, also, South Korea is beautiful. I'm positive you'll love it. Mom said, causing me to shake my head in panic.

It's halfway through the school year. If we do move, I won't have a chance to know my way around or have early friends. I'll just be the weird new kid. "I know it sounds stressful, but I promise it'll work out for us darling." He said. I'd had enough. I stood up and practically ran upstairs, the sounds of my parents calling my name fading each step I took. By the time I hit my pillow there were tears spilling down my face. I wasn't normally one to cry, but the thought of leaving everything behind was heartbreaking to even think about. Later on I took out my phone and told my two best friends the news, them seeming just as hurt as I was. After we promised to stay in contact until we met again, and said our "I love you"s I turned away and fell asleep from exhaustion.

The day came that we moved. I sat in the corner, watching strangers drag all our belongings into a moving truck outside. I had forgiven my parents by now. Knowing they had no intentions of hurting me. My father called me to get in the car to leave to the airport. All I could think was what would come to me in this new place...

Thank you for reading!!! I know it's not perfect t but I made this in a rush and promise to make part two better and longer! I love you guys and I am thankful for your patience with my sucky grammar🥹❤️‍🩹

#enhypen x reader #jungwon fluff #jungwon fanfic #jungwon enhypen #jungwon x reader

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montammil · 7 months

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Playing Along, pt 2

Part 1 can be found here!

Luca belongs to @lucakairomi!

CW: Kidnapping, food, parental/intimate whumper, female whumpee, infantilizing behavior

Luca woke up in an unfamiliar bed. It took her more than a few minutes to remember the events of the previous night- the unsuccessful escape attempt, mainly.

Wincing as her feet touch the cold floor, she tries the doorknob, half expecting it to be locked after yesterday, remembering hearing it clicking shut. It's not, maybe he unlocked it this morning- but she has the common sense to not make the same mistake twice.

Instead, she heads down into the kitchen, purposefully making her steps heavy to alert anyone in there of her presence.

The smell of fresh cooking greets her, along with Lawrence, who's humming until he sees her. Despite the nasty bruise in the middle of his face from likely where she kicked him, he seems in a good mood, luckily for her.

"Good morning, Luca," he greets warmly, placing his spatula aside. "Did you sleep well?"

She stays standing, hovering awkwardly near the counter just out of arm's length.

At least he seems to have gotten over yesterday's incident. "Um, yeah, thanks." As well as she could under the circumstances... "What are you making?"

"Bacon, eggs, and pancakes. Sit down." His order is laced with kindness.

She nods, sliding into the wooden chair and placing her hands in front of her. He clearly trusts her not to try something again, and it'll probably earn her some brownie points as well.

He soon slides her plate over. He already cut the pancakes for her.

"Enjoy." He joins her, digging into his own food. "We're gonna set some ground rules once you're done, okay, kiddo? We can't have a repeat of what happened yesterday, can we?" He looks pointedly at her, but still doesn't sound angry. Not entirely, at least.

Agreeing with him is definitely the way to go here. She's suspicious of the food, but seeing as he plated them both from the same pan, she was probably okay unless he had some sort of superhuman immunity to common sedatives.

She takes a bite- it's delicious. Between this and last night's... meal, she can assume Lawrence really knows his way around the kitchen. She swallows her mouthful before she responds. "No."

He grins at that. "Glad you agree."

She continues eating. After they both finish, she waits as he places the dirty plates in the sink.

He then looks back at her. "Let's go sit on the couch, yeah?"

She stands from the table, trailing behind him to a cozy-looking white couch. Once he takes a seat, she sits down a comfortable distance from him. "So, about those ground rules...?"

Lawrence crosses his arms, and he turns serious for a moment. "The most obvious one, there will be no more attempts to escape." He looks her in the eye. "I won't be nearly as forgiving next time."

Well, she should have expected that. She probably wouldn't have much of a chance, now, anyway, and based on what she saw outside the house, there wasn't many options there.

Best to wait for a better opportunity... and that would give her time to learn more about this whole situation. "Yeah... okay."

"Great! Second rule, no cursing. I will not tolerate such behavior." His tone is stern.

She wasn't in the habit to, but agreed anyway.

"Third rule is bedtime is at nine, and there'll be no trying to get around it." He tilts his head, like he's thinking. "Though, you seem tired a lot, so maybe we can move it a little earlier. Other than that, just listen to what I tell you. Any questions?"

Okay, a little odd, especially for someone as old as herself- Nine, really?- but doable. No mentions of her powers, but she wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. No mention of violence, either, but that was probably a given.

She thinks for a moment. "Am I allowed outside?" Might as well ask.

He laughs at that, which surprises her. He puts a hand on her shoulder, smiling. "Of course you are, sweetheart, I want to make sure you get all your vitamins." Just as she was about to feel somewhat relieved, it disappeared completely when he added, "With my supervision, of course." He lets her shoulder go, still smiling. "You know, I always wanted to set up a little playground or treehouse in the backyard, but never got around to it. Would you like that?"

A treehouse... possibly a bit of privacy. And he'd need tools for that, and it might take a bit of time.

Any moment he spent not hovering over her shoulder was welcome, so she smiles a bit and tries to sound enthusiastic. "That sounds fun!"

"I'm glad you like the idea." Lawrence pats her head and then stands up, stretching. "I have an idea, why don't we watch a movie together? Your pick. Keep it PG, though." He passes her the remote after opening up a list of all the many streaming services he has. "Any preference on popcorn?"

Sudden change of subject, but okay. "Um, I like lots of butter." She takes the remote, noting the many channels. "What about Star Wars?"

He contemplates it for a moment. "I guess it's not too mature. Okay, I'll make an exception. I'll be right back." He steps out of the room.

She takes the minute of peace to look around. The living room is well-furnished and modest- and the television is rather large, now that she looks more closely.

No pictures or other information as to Lawrence's personal life, though, from a brief glance. No sign that anyone else was ever here.

She flips the television on and starts it up while Lawrence pops the popcorn.

By the time he returns, it's started. He gives her a look of fondness as he watches. "I remember loving Star Wars when I was young. You got good taste, kiddo." He brings the popcorn over, handing it to her and placing a blanket over their laps. He also hands her water and two pills. "It's ibuprofen. I figured you might still be in pain from yesterday."

A bit, but not as much as the average person. But she doesn't want to cause any undue suspicion... and it does look like ibuprofen. What reason would he have to drug her now, anyway?

So she takes the pills and takes a handful of popcorn, only marginally paying attention to the movie as she notices a framed picture on the mantle. It looks like Lawrence- younger, perhaps, but definitely him- with his arm around a woman. They look close. A wife...?

Lawrence notices her gaze. "My wife, Nadia. She died almost ten years ago now. She would've loved you. You have her eyes. And her stubbornness." He laughs to himself at the last part, even if it's a sad one.

Luca is nearly bowled over by the feelings of longing and sadness coming from Lawrence's direction. It's... raw, even after all these years. She can't help but feel... a little sorry for him. "I'm... sorry about that." Guess her hypothesis had been correct.

"Thanks, kiddo. It's... hard not having her here anymore. I could've used her insight a couple times recently..." His gaze lands on her and lingers a moment before he shakes his head. "Sorry for bringing the mood down. Why don't you settle in? The movie's just getting started." He adjusts so the popcorn is in his lap, and an arm of his is free, extending it for Luca. "Cuddles?"

Immediately, Luca feels the hairs on the back of her neck stand up straight. She suddenly feels cold, and wraps the blanket tighter around her. She shakes her head perhaps faster than she intended. "Um- no. No... no thanks."

Lawrence clenches his jaw but nods, like it's taking all his willpower to not say anything further on the subject. Maybe it is. She can feel him holding back, and it isn't a comfortable sensation.

The atmosphere becomes awkward and cold. They don't say another word.

After they somehow ended up watching multiple Star Wars movies, Lawrence stands. The popcorn bowl is empty. He takes the bowl and disappears into the kitchen again, coming back with bandages.

"Time to take off those bandages, I need to look at your wounds. After that, you should go take a bath, I'll get you some new bandages, and then I'll make..." He glances at the clock, "dinner?! Already, huh..." He shakes his head, chuckling to himself. "I'd lose my head if it wasn't attached, I swear..."

Luca nods silently. It's not as of she has anything against him in particular... well, besides the obvious, but she's been in way too many situations in which she's been in forced proximity to a serial killer, a stalker, or a murderer to be comfortable with cozying up to Lawrence. Or... really anyone, for that matter. She didn't have a roommate, or any pets, and in her line of work relationships of any kind were pretty hard to maintain.

He doesn't say anything about it as he unwraps her hands and feet, humming some tune to himself, the tune from earlier. He cleans out the cuts to just make sure it won't get infected.

After he's done, he stands and gathers everything he used to clean them. "Should be all good, go take your bath, okay, kiddo? Do you need help with anything, because if you do, there's no need to feel embarrassed."

Luca's hands still sting, but she's made do with worse before. Also, despite Lawrence's claims, she was definitely not ready for that level of... whatever it was. She shakes her head. "No, I'll be fine."

"Alright. Shout if you need me." He waves his hand dismissively as he walks out of the room, likely to start dinner.

Luca nods and heads back upstairs, but stops at Lawrence's door. Now might be a good time to snoop around a little... but first, she heads into the bathroom and turns on the shower.

A little noise masking... and it's less suspicious if she's up here for twenty minutes and doesn't run the shower.

As quietly as possible, she turns the knob of Lawrence's door, and to her relief, it's not locked.

Carefully, she creeps inside, grateful that there isn't any squeaky floorboards. His room is neat- aside from his unmade bed, there isn't much mess. There's a desk to her left, which she goes to first.

On top are things like bills and pay stubs- nothing too noteworthy. However, when she opens the top drawer of his desk, her heart stops in her throat.

Medical records. Her medical records. Notes, pictures- when had he taken those?! She scans the records- details on her abilities, allergies, things like that. So he had been planning this...

She pushes a few more aside, and spots a flash of color.

...Hundreds of pictures. Many are photos of herself- taking walks alone, sitting at the cafe near her house, basically anything and everything most would find mundane.

She flips through the pictures in hand, and soon finds images of two of the missing people... Sadie Mills and Nathan Lam, she remembers their names well. They're eerily similar to the ones that were taken of her, definitely taken without their knowledge.

There it was. Proof- Lawrence was the Collector. He was the one who had kidnapped Sadie and Nathan- and more importantly, they had escaped. If she could too- and took these with her- that would be enough for people to believe her!

But she couldn't yet- besides her injuries, she'd probably need more than a few (hundred) blurry pictures. They could be claimed as fakes, or planted, after all.

Plus... Lawrence's motives still intrigued her. Whether out of morbid curiosity or just budding Stockholm syndrome, she didn't want to leave just yet. If that was even an option...

Luca puts them back in the drawer, only because she doesn't want to risk Lawrence finding them missing. She's about to look further when she smells food wafting. She shouldn't push her luck, so she forces herself to close the drawer, enter the bathroom again and turn off the shower, after dampening her hair to make it look like she did just shower.

She changes into the new pair of clothes Lawrence must've put on the counter earlier that day, cringing at the pastel blue design, along with the childish shorts. At least they weren't uncomfortable.

When she comes downstairs, Lawrence's smile is friendly once again.

He slides a plate of bacon rolls towards her, along with a cup of water. "You look refreshed." He coos a little when he looks down at the pajamas she's wearing. "You look so cute." He leans over the table to ruffle her hair.

Luca nods. "Yeah, only, uh..." Test one: push back a bit. See how he reacts. "Well- it's no big deal."

"C'mon, kiddo, spill the beans," Lawrence tells her light-heartedly. He takes a bite of his own food, waiting patiently.

Luca puts on her best bashful expression. "It's just, well, my favorite color is red." Step one: see how he reacts to a small request. Same trick as asking your parents for a pony and then a dog- much better to gague how he'll respond to this rather than asking off the bat if she can leave, or call someone, or make an itemized list of his illegal activities.

"Oh. Oh!" Lawrence straightens. "Of course! I have tons in every color, but if you want me to just get red from now on, that's fine! Red's a great color." His laugh is slightly strained, it's obvious he's just trying hard to make her happy since she hasn't been here for long. Something tells her if she had been here for longer, Lawrence might actually be a bit annoyed, judging from how forced his grin looks. "How about this: right after dinner, I go get you some red pajamas? I can bring multiple for you to choose from, even."

"Oh, one pair is fine!" She insists, nodding.

Hm. Desperate to please, it seems, at least for now. Guess the man doesn't have endless patience- or tolerance for frivolity.

Obedience seems to be a given. Devotion, another, based on last night. Enthusiasm seems to cheer him up, and he doesn't like complaining or swearing. Evidently he's never had to deal with any actual children.

It would be hard, but... possible? Maybe. Perhaps she should rethink her strategy- no. No! No strategy, this is not long-term! She's gathering enough evidence to put him away and then she's making her escape. Easy. No need to make it more complicated.

Lawrence nods, taking another bite, and then a drink of his water. "After dinner, I'll get those pajamas for you, and then I'll bandage your hands and feet again. Are you feeling any more pain?"

Luca shrugs. She heals fast- some would say unnaturally fast, and those people would be promptly told to shut the hell up. "A little. Not that much." She takes a few bites. Unsurprisingly, it's amazing.

He seems relieved to hear it, nodding as he listens to her. "Good. That's a relief." He smiles fondly. "I'm going to take good care of you, kiddo. Just keep that in mind, yeah? Whatever happens, I have your best interest in mind."

That's... a worrying thing for him to say, but okay.

Finishing their food, Lawrence is the first one to rise from his chair. "I'm gonna go get those pajamas, you just keep eating." He leaves with a ruffle to her hair.

She nods, but stops eating and thinks. Lawrence is unstable, dangerous, and clearly delusional, but not to the extent that it blinds him to reason.

Not a sociopath- she sensed clear feelings of regret several times. It was... odd, to say the least. He wasn't even purely malicious.

But the fact that, like it or not, he had her in such a position was... well, worrying. Sometimes, literally being able to see the best in people wasn't a good thing.

Lawrence eventually comes back downstairs and sets the pajamas on the table. They're red with white stars.

"I hope these are okay. If you're done eating, I can bandage you back up, and then it's off to bed. I can't believe it's already going on nine!" He says that like it's a huge deal.

Luca nods, looking excited. "These are great, thanks." Briefly, she wonders what exactly he does at night... but she can worry about that later. She patiently waits as he reapplies her bandages, and quickly heads upstairs. She takes a marker and flips the whiteboard around. Time for a new case- take down the Collector, one day at a time.

---

Lawrence leans against the doorframe, staring at Luca's sleeping form- a nervous habit he does, just to make sure she's okay and... well, there.

She's smart- smarter than any of his past kids, no doubt about that- but since he's aware of that, he'll always be one step ahead.

He's aware her curiosity mixed with her job are the things keeping her here willingly. Of course they are, if she wanted to leave, she would've definitely tried again by now. Not that she'd get much far, of course.

With a final fond sigh, he leaves the doorway and closes the door.

He'll let her believe he isn't onto her little charade. For now, anyway. While she's searching for evidence and clues, he'll just use that as time to bond with her more.

#cold cold eyes #lawrence oc #luca oc #playing along #collab

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ironmanfridgemagnet · 2 years

Text

Sitting On The Shelf - Marcus White x Reader

Part 22.b - New Year's Eve

SOTS Masterlist

"And he thinks that's okay?"

Amy's party playlist was blasting from your phone as your danced around the kitchen, grabbing bowls and plates from cupboards and placing them on the counter top. Grabbing the bagful of snacks you'd picked up as you'd left the store yesterday, you emptied it out, opening bags of chips pouring them into the bowls. Chocolate covered pretzels, m&m's, twizzler's bites and a pizza on the way filling the rest of the bowls and plates you'd pulled out of the cupboard.

You only had one matching set at the moment; four bowl, four plates and four mugs, all in cloud 9's signature glossy dolphin blue that Amy had spotted heavily discounted on the 'final chance' end cap. A couch you'd found at the goodwill near the store and a Tv stand and matching coffee table that looked like they were going to break if you looked at them too hard as well as Amy's tv that she'd let you keep. Your apartment was slowly, but surely, coming together; piece by little piece.

Balancing the mixture of bowls and plates on your arms you crossed the length of the room to the couch, Amy reaching up, took two of the plates, placing them down for you as you shimmied the others from your hold. Collapsing next to her on the couch, you pulled her head to rest against your shoulder, an arm wrapping around her and pulling her into your warmth as small sniffles escaped her.

"It's my fault."

"Ames." Hugging the older woman against you, she muffled her cries, Emma camped up in your bedroom only feet away, loudly talking down the phone at someone. But walls were thin, and Amy didn't want anyone to see her like that; not even you. Her head was tucked into a mixture of your shoulder and the back of the couch, hiding her face and muffling her sobs.

"I told him I wasn't happy. If I'd not said anything he wouldn't be sleeping in the basement."

"He's sleeping in the basement?" You gasped before you could help yourself; you knew Adam was bad, having spent just over a year living with him, but you didn't think he was that bad. "Amy, listen. Adam's a douche."

"You've always thought that."

"Well, yeah, you got me there." Amy let out a small laugh, tears falling from her eyes as she bit back the smile that threatened to break out at your words. "But, my point is, you deserve better than that. Then him."

"I know you love him, but if he's not making you happy, then something needs to change. If this isn't the wake up call he needs, if he doesn't change because of this, then that's on him. It's not your fault." Amy sniffled into the crook of your neck, your hand rubbing up and down the length of her back soothingly.

Adam was not a nice guy - as far as you were concerned - and you'd be the first person to support his downfall. But Amy loved him, and you'd put up with him for her sake any day; except when whatever he was doing was making her feel like this. Amy was the best person you knew, and to see her so heart-crushingly upset was tearing you apart.

"Hey, push comes to shove, I can always just beat him up?"

Amy let out a heartier laugh this time, chocked sobs muffled between the sweet sound that slipped past her lips. Wiping furiously at the tears the streamed down her cheeks, your grabbed her hands, stopping their movement before wiping them away yourself, with a much gentler motion.

"You just, you never think it'll be you, y'know. Like the sleeping apart in the same house, the counselling. I just never thought I'd be here, it'd be us."

One hand moved to brush Amy's hair behind her ear, keeping it out of her eyes and her wet cheeks. Pulling her in for a tight hug, you rubbed circles into her back, letting her head burrow into your neck for comfort.

"It's hard, there's no denying that. But your strong Ames, the strongest person I know. I'll be here, Emma will be here. You're not alone going through this."

"Thank you, y/n." Amy squeezed you tightly against her, then pulled away, her hands holding you by your shoulders an arms length apart. "Now, let's agree to never bring this up again."

Letting out a loud laugh, you pulled her back against you, the two of you giggling like children as you laughed into each other, tension dissolving as quickly as it had come. As the laughter died down, Amy cried out to Emma, bringing her from your bedroom into the living room. Emma crashed onto the end of the couch, squeezing tightly in the gap next to you and slouching into her hand that rested against the arm of the couch.

The ball was soon to drop, only three minutes until the clock struck midnight and a new year would begin. But, oh, was it so much more then that: the new year would bring in new chances, the ability to change, to heal. And you hoped it would bring so much more, especially for Amy.

A knock at the door startled the low chatter that had filled your apartment, you jumping from your seat and heading to the door with haste. "It's probably the pizza, I'll grab it."

"Be quick!" Emma shouted to you over the back of the couch, quickly turning back to the conversation she was sharing with her mom.

Pulling open the door, you looked into your purse, pulling out a twenty dollar bill, and a handful of change. "How much was it again?"

"Y/n."

Marcus stood before you, the jumper you'd bought him for Christmas covering his chest, and the scarf - that secretly matched your own - wrapped loosely around his neck, the long fabric hung over his shoulders and cascading down his chest. His face was red, and he seemed slightly out of breath, the cold air having nipped at his exposed skin.

"Marcus? What are you doing here?" You asked, one hand holding the door open as the other still held your purse, cash lazily stuffed back into it. The dimly lit hallway shadowed his face, his arm coming to rest against the doorway, his form towering above you. "Wait, how did you know where I lived?"

"I stopped by Amy's, and Adam answered the door. Gave me your address."

"Oh." It's not that you weren't happy to see Marcus, you always were, you were just surprised as to why he had ended up on your doorstep on the edge of midnight. "Well, what's up?"

"10!" Amy and Emma chanted from a few feet behind you, the half-closed door the only thing shielding Marcus their view.

Marcus pushed more of his weight into the doorframe, leaning over you. His free hand came and took the purse from your grasp, placing it on the side table you had beside the doorway, purse disregarded alongside the keys you'd made home there. "9!"

"8!" Marcus grabbed your now free hand and placed it on his chest, his hand dropping from yours and gently grabbing your waist.

"7!" Taking a step closer to the brunette, he guided you, squeezing the flesh of your hip as his hand pulled you closer to him.

"6!" Now chest to chest, Marcus began to dip his head closer to yours, his arm never leaving the door frame though yours now did, slipping over his shoulder and around his neck.

"5!" Tugging at the tousled hair that your fingers met at the nape of his neck, you took another step impossibly closer to Marcus, breathing in the earthy warmth he always carried.

"4!"

"Why are you really here? Huh, handsome?" You asked in a hushed whisper, face inches apart from Marcus's, his breath fanning across your cheeks.

"3!"

"I think you know." Marcus whispered back, a wide smile curling across his face, eyes crinkling and teeth showing - a full, genuine, elated smile.

"2!"

"Oh, do I now?" You teased, other hand moving to meet your other that rested behind his neck, this one shifting to the full fluff of his hair.

"Yeah. I think you do."

"1!"

You pulled Marcus down by the back of his head to meet your lips, standing on the tips of your toes to make it easier for him. His hand that gently cradled your waist pulled you as close as possible to him, pressing your chests together. Hands tangled into his hair, running them through his tousled, brown locks and lightly pulling, eliciting a short groan from Marcus. His other large hand cupped your cheek, pressing his lips firmly to your own as a smile began to form, pulling the two of you apart from each other.

"Happy New Year, y/n." Marcus whispered as to not disturb the peace of the moment, his thumb stroking across your cheek, underneath your eye.

"Happy New Year, Marcus." Biting back a smile, you looked up at him, eyes filled with a warmth he hadn't seen much before - only ever from you. "That was very sweet of you."

"What can I say? They call me Mr. Sweetness."

"Who? Who calls you that?"

"Happy New Year, Mi Chiquita!" Amy screeched down your ear, a loud, chaste kiss pressed to your cheek as she wrapped her arms loosely around your waist, squeezing tightly. "Oh, Marcus, hello."

Marcus shyly waved a hello, his hand coming to scratch against the back of his neck as his face flushed red, as though he'd been caught doing something g he shouldn't.

"Who's at the door?" Emma asked, pushing her head through the two of you to get a glimpse of the talk man outside the apartment door. "Y/n? Is that your boyfriend?"

Three scrambled attempts at an explanation failed to keep Emma quiet, her pushing her body fully through the gap between the two of you to stand in front of a very red-faced Marcus. "All they do is talk about you, y'know."

"Emma!" You all but screeched, clapping a hand over the younger girls mouth and pulling her backwards, into your chest and what could be disguised as a hug. "She didn't mean that. She's a liar."

Despite having her mouth covered, Emma vehemently shook her head in denial, Marcus and Amy letting out a chorus of laughter at the bickering between the two of you.

"Why don't you come inside?" Amy offered, pulling Emma away from your clutches and creating a gap into the apartment, giving Marcus the opportunity to enter if he wished to do so. "We've got snacks, drinks - and a pizza on the way."

Marcus hesitated, looking over at you who simply smiled fondly at him, a look of adoration and hope. "Yeah, I'd love to."

Emma rushed back to the couch at that, claiming a spot before the couch got full up from your new addition to the guests, Amy quickly following after her and squeezing in next to her, leaving one spot free on the small couch.

Marcus lingered in the door way, only beginning to move as you reached your hand out to him, intertwining your fingers and pulling him into the apartment he was more then welcome in.

"Make yourself at home." You mused, tugging on his hand and pulling his towards the couch, where Amy and Emma waited with an arms full of snack and embarrassing stories to share.

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Hey guys!! This is the first of the two uploads for tonight.

This is definitely the better of the two uploads - as who doesn't love Marcus/reader content?????

As always, have a lovely week <3333

#sitting on the shelf marcus white x reader #cloud 9 #superstore x reader #superstore imagine #marcus white #marcus white x reader #marcus superstore #marcus white imagine #superstore marcus imagine

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