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leclerc-hs · 27 days

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it's cool, we're just friends? - cl16

pairing: college!charles leclerc x fem!reader (friends with benefits!) summary: in which you and a guy in your class are friends with benefits OR you and your friends with benefits might be more? warnings: smut under the cut! thigh-riding, throat-fucking, p in v sex!, no condoms (bad!), badly translated french (pls correct me), angst, pining, NOT PROOFREAD!!!! word count: 4.8k! author's note: so i ALMOST scrapped this entire thing because i wasn't sure how i felt about it so if it sucks, i understand LOL. i had a lot of fun writing this and can see myself writing a lot of scenarios for them like before there was this many feelings involved? like maybe a spring break one shot for them, when they hooked up for first time ;) PLEASE let me hear your thoughts and any comments you have. I love hearing from you guys xoxo

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THE WEIGHT OF his eyes bore into the back of your skull, a palpable presence as you immerse yourself in the lecture before you. It’s almost become a ritual at this point: a magnetic pull compels you to glance his way, and there he is, a smirk stretching wide across his face, as if he holds the upper hand.

In that fleeting moment where your eyes meet his verdant gaze, a fierce intensity ignites within you. It’s as if a wildfire unleashes, consuming you with an unbridled mix of desire and exasperation. Your stomach tightens with a fervent ache, betraying the absolute irritation you feel at his ability to rile you up with one look.

Internally, Charles wrestles with the urge to gaze at you as though you’ve strung the stars and moon just for him. Yet, outwardly, he remains steadfast, unwilling to reveal his vulnerability when it comes to you. Instead, he masks his emotions behind a practiced smirk—a façade. And the blushing reaction you give him almost every time, only enthuses him more.

“Arrête!” You half-shout, though it emerges more as a whispered urgency amidst the large lecture hall.

Charles leans in over his desk, his lips hovering dangerously close to the shell of your ear, a proximity that sets your heart racing with a rapid intensity.

“Est-ce que je te verra ice soir?” Will I see you tonight?

You kept your head straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge the warmth of him being so close, resisting the allure of his voice.

“Peut-être.” Maybe.

At the front of the lecture hall, Professor Bernard stands tall, his expression grave as he prepares his common ‘you guys are smarter than this’ speech about the recent exam grades. He highlights the alarming fact that more than half of the class received a 70% or lower. And true to his reputation as the kindest professor, he extends an olive branch by offering retakes to those who seek improvement before dismissing the lecture.

You gather your belongings, ready to make your exit, when suddenly, a heavy arm wraps around your shoulder just as you cross the threshold of the door.

You? Aced it. Charles? Not so aced it.

Which you knew meant you were helping him study as usual.

You watch as Charles runs his fingers through his disheveled locks, each movement betraying a hint of frustration and determination. His lips form a subtle pout as he fixates on the study material you laid out before him, his furrowed brows highlighting the depth of his concentration.

“Mon chou, je ne pensais pas que tu m’avais invite pour ça.” I didn’t think you invited me over for this.

With a gleam in his eyes, he wiggles his eyebrows playfully as he collapses on the many pillows of your bed behind him. The papers scattered across the bed threaten to take flight, but your swift reflexes saved them from soaring away into chaos.

You narrow your eyes in mock annoyance, but the small smile tugging at the corners of your lips betrays your amusement at the situation.

“Tu dois étudier.” You need to study.

Charles stares at the corners of your lips, his eyes not straying once from them even as you spoke.

“Embrasse-moi d’abord.” Kiss me first. He nearly begs; his face almost completely covered by the hood of his sweatshirt as he laid on his back beside your cross-legged figure.

“Étudie.” Study. Your words were firm, yet you could feel your resolve slipping under the intensity of his gaze, as it traces a path from your lips to your eyes, igniting a warmth that stirred whenever he was near.

His arm reaches up behind your neck in a swift motion, too quick for you to even see it coming. His fingers grabbing the nape of your neck in a tight grip as he brings your face down to his, your body toppling over his in an unnatural position from his force. His lips collide with yours instantly, and the squeal you elicit gives him easy access to slip his tongue into your mouth.

He groans softly against your mouth, something about how sweet your mouth tastes. The moan that escapes your lips and melded into his mouth drove him absolutely crazy. The grip on the back of your neck didn’t loosen as he held you to him, giving you no opportunity to pull away from him.

Your tank top cladded chest was pressed against the side of his body, embracing you in his warmth. You press a hand to his chest, attempting to push yourself up, but he groans against your lips in detest before loosening his grip on your neck.

“Est-ce vraiment necessaire.” Do we have to? He begins to pepper kisses all around your face, his fingers dipping under the straps of your tank top, tracing intricate patterns of the soft skin beneath.

You slip your hand under the warmth of his hoodie, his toned muscles flexing under your cold fingertips as you trail your hand up his chest and slip one leg over him, straddling his thigh. His skin was so warm. Almost like a furnace.

He sucks in a breath, as if your touch hurt him, but really, he craved it. He wanted you everywhere. The tight leggings that adorned your body did little to prevent Charles from feeling the heat and arousal of your pussy against his thigh. A smirk widened on his lips almost instantly. He knew he had you right where he wanted you.

He could sense your contemplative thoughts by one glance at your eyes. As if you knew he needed to study, but you needed this more.

You could barely concentrate the minute Charles sprawled onto your bed earlier, his legs spread and shorts riding up to expose the muscles of his thighs. It was even harder to think with the way his soft green eyes look up at you, and the way his fingers felt on you.

His hand trails from beneath the strap of your tank top, your hardened nipples more than visible through the thin fabric of it, to the front of your breasts.

“No bra?” His thumb rolled a nipple between his thumb and forefinger above the fabric of your shirt. “Planning on getting fucked, hm?”

Your hips rut against his thigh almost instantly in response to his words. The feeling of his thigh against your clit, causing a soft moan to slip. It was then, that Charles seemed to lose all restraint as his hand grasped the side of your neck and squeezed lightly, his thumb resting in the center of your neck. He flexed his thigh, his eyes gleaming at the sight of your blown out pupils.

“Regarde-toi,” Look at you. He edged you on. “Just wanna ride m’thigh, yeah?”

Your hips move in their own rhythm, unable to stop. It just feels too good. You nodded repeatedly as you lean over, pressing your chest to his, as he claims your lips once again. His hot, tongue sliding against yours as the stubble of his facial hair scratches your chin.

You struggle, losing the rhythm of your hips until Charles slid his hands down to your waist, guiding your movements. “C’mon mon chou, tu dois travailler pour ça.” You have to work for it.

“We should study.” You mention, the pace of your hips not stopping. As if your body has a mind of its own.

“Nous sommes.” We are. He argues, his fingertips squeezing into the skin of your hips even more. “Now, keep rubbing that pretty little pussy on me.”

“Oh, what about her?” You point to the pretty brunette that was currently leaned against the wall, a red solo cup in her manicured hand, as she was deep in conversation with a few other girls that you haven’t seen before.

Charles sighs heavily, rolling his eyes just slightly. “Why are you pawning me off?” He cracks a smile, his elbows gently hitting your side.

You let out a small laugh before bringing your own cup to your lips. The liquid of your drink resting on the top of your lip as you finished a sip and turned to look at Charles. “M’not!” You shrug your shoulders. “Elle est jolie and keeps looking at you thinkin’ no one’s noticed.” She’s pretty.

He wouldn’t know about the ‘pretty brunette’ you claimed was there. He didn’t know about any other girl that was here. His eyes haven’t left your figure the entire night. Since you stepped in the entrance of the house he was by your side, it was like his body knew you arrived.

“Peu importe ça, m’gonna go dance.” Whatever. You stick your tongue out at him, earning a deep laugh, and saunter off to find one of your friends already on the makeshift dance floor in the living room of the house.

Charles leans casually against the wall, his eyes tracing the contours of your radiant smile from afar. Despite himself, a soft grin tugs at the corners of his lips as he takes in the sight of you.

“Are you sure you’re not together?” One of his friends, Alex, teases, leaning in close to Charles and handing him a red solo cup, its contents mostly frothy beer foam from an evidently lazy pour. “I was thinking of asking her out.”

Charles’s gaze drift from the frothy mess in his cup to Alex’s expectant face, a furrow forming on his brow. It wasn’t the foam that troubled him, rather, it was Alex’s words that unsettled him. How was he supposed to respond? We aren’t together but I think I’m in love with her?

Charles clenches his jaw, fighting back the urge to speak his truth, as the words “have at it” slip past his lips with a forced nonchalance. With a hollow smile, he raises the cup to his lips, swallowing the acrid liquid with a newfound eagerness that masked the bitter taste of envy and longing festering in his chest. As Alex made his way towards you, Charles couldn’t help but feel a pang of anguish, knowing that he was relinquishing his chance to confess his feelings, drowning them instead in the depths of a cheap beer.

“Mmm, tu es tellement douée.” You’re so good.

You weren’t quite sure how you ended up in this scenario. All you remember is being dragged away from a game of beer-pong with Alex, his fingers gripping your wrist so tightly it could’ve left marks, and shoving you onto your knees as soon as he shut the bathroom door.

Dwelling on the how’s and why’s seemed inconsequential now. Especially with his cock buried deep down your throat like it is right now, and especially with the praises that slip past his lips.

Charles lulls his head back with a loud groan as he flexes his hips into your mouth, giving you little to no opportunity to breathe. No opportunity to speak. But you didn’t care. You would do anything to please him.

“Tellement putain de jolie, mon dieu.” So fucking pretty, my God.

“Bet you’re soaked under that dress, hm?” His grip on your hair tightens. “Got you all wet without even touching you.” His laugh is deep and mocking. You feel your thighs clench, like it was an automatic response. “Only I get you like this, yeah?”

You press your face forward, not even needing his force as you take full enjoyment in the feeling of him in your mouth.

“So eager, mon chou.”

You moan at the feeling of his smooth cock against the walls of your throat. The vibrations of your moan, immediately sending him over the edge. His white, hot cum spills down your throat, filling you up, before he pulls out. A long string of saliva follows, your eyes completely teary.

He lifts you from your knees, the cool tile of the bathroom floor no longer your support, his thumb gently resting on your chin as he studies you for a mere second. Taking in the streaky tears under your eyes and your swollen lips. He could already feel the blood rushing back to his cock.

“Bet you’re leaking all over yourself, yeah?” You catch the smirk that pulls onto his lips before his lips crash down onto yours. His teeth nibbling on your bottom lip for a brief second before he’s pulling away, pushing you up onto the bathroom sink counter as he stands in between your spread legs. “All achy?” He cocked his head to the side a little, like he knew something you didn’t.

It was so fast, you weren’t even able to ask questions before he leaned forward, his fingers slipping into the lace of your underwear, pushing them aside, and pressing his hot tongue to your soaked core.

You swore you’ve never moaned so loud in your life as you just did in this moment. At the feeling of the kitten licks on your clit, at the feeling of him shoving two fingers into you, finding that spot he knew you loved most almost instantly.

Your fingers franticly reached into his tousled locks, pulling his hair probably harder than necessary, but he didn’t mind. In fact, he moaned right into your pussy. Like he couldn’t ever get enough of you. Like he would stay licking you for forever if he could.

“Mon dieu,” My god. You squeal as your head lulls back against the cool mirror behind you and bite your lip trying to conceal the moans.

You look down at Charles, his eyes already staring at you, his green eyes completely darkened now. It makes your stomach do a multitude of flips. Your attempt to squeeze your legs shut from the pressure building in your stomach, but Charles grips his fingers into the soft flesh of your thigh, holding them open.

A series of knocks are heard on the bathroom door which sends you into a total panic to which Charles yells “Va te faire foutre!” Fuck off!

Your body squirms against Charles’ mouth and the granite of the countertop, but he holds you in place as if to say you’re not going anywhere until you soak my mouth.

He ate you out like a possessed man. Your chest is flushed red as the speed of his tongue picks up, sending you into overdrive. It wasn’t until he sucks harshly on your clit, the pressure of it, has you leaping over the edge into your orgasm. You came hard enough that your body arched, your fingers clenching his hair, pulling hard.

Charles doesn’t come up right away, he licks and licks until you’re pushing him off you. Both of your chests rose and fell in rhythm with each heavy breath, the lingering echoes of the lively party beyond the door gradually seeping back into your consciousness. It felt as though you had just descended from a faraway realm, returning to the bustling reality surrounding you.

His lips glistened, coated in you, as he stares at you completely fucked out on the bathroom counter. An unmistakable smugness in his expression.

His heart clenches as he drinks in the sight of you, so many emotions swirling in his chest. As you stretch your lips into that smile he loves so much, he feels a swell of warmth flood his senses, a tender ache stirring in the depths of his soul.

“Qu’est-ce qui te prend?” What’s gotten into you?

Not that you were complaining at what just happened. If anything, you wouldn’t mind if he wanted a repeat right now.

He nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders, one hand leisurely slipping into his pocket, while the other moved to grasp the door handle. With a patient stance, he awaited your readiness before even considering opening the door. “J’avais juste besoin de toi,” Just needed you. He whispers, his voice carrying a tender resonance, emphasizing the depth of longing.

And then he’s swinging the door open, guiding you both back to the party.

“Je pense que nous devrions arrêter.” I think we should stop.

The words felt heavy in your throat as you said them, your hand clasped in Charles’ hand as you sat across from one another in the campus coffee shop.

Charles chuckled softly, taking a leisurely sip of his drink, but when be caught the seriousness in your expression, his laughter faded. His eyebrows knitted together, a pang of pain igniting in his chest and spreading like wildfire.

You watched as he leaned his head back against the booth, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as if unable to meet your eyes.

“Que veux-tu dire?” What do you mean? He met your eyes again, and you noticed a subtle shift in their hue—they were slightly darker than their usual shade of green.

“Je ne pense pas que ç ava marcher.” I don’t think this is going to work out. As you uttered the words, a queasy sensation churned in your stomach, making you feel like you were going to be sick. Similarly, Charles felt a wave of nausea wash over him upon hearing your words, his own stomach in knots.

Just looking at him had your eyes burning, but you refused to let the tears fall. Despite the overwhelming love you felt for this man, you couldn’t ignore the reality that it was unlikely to progress beyond the messy situation you found yourselves in. What were you supposed to do? Be friends that fuck for the rest of your lives?

You couldn’t do that. You wouldn’t do that. It wasn’t a spur of the moment decision. No, you’ve been thinking about this for so long, but cutting it off was just too hard. Cutting him off was too hard.

As you watched him slowly retract his fingers from yours, his hand moving to pinch the bridge of his nose while he blinked, a fiery ache within your chest grew.

“We’re friends, always, right?” You asked, offering him a soft smile, though inside, your heart felt like it was about to burst from your chest. You reminded yourself that this was necessary. You needed to go on dates. Not that he was exactly holding you back. It just felt wrong to go on dates while sleeping with another.

“Right,” he responded, his expression devoid of a smile. “Friends.” He nodded slowly, as if carefully considering the weight of the situation before him.

“Est-ce que je peux demander ce qui a déclencé cela?” Can I ask what brought this up? His fingers tapped restlessly along the edge of the table, betraying his impatience as he awaited your answer.

Meanwhile, you sat twiddling your thumbs in your lap, occasionally stealing glances at them. Why did this conversation feel so unbearably difficult?

“Quoi?” What?

“Est-ce que j’ai fait quelque chose?” Did I do something?

You shook your head instantly, a small blush forming on your cheeks. “I just,” You began, but felt flustered as you took a pause to look back down at your fingers and then him again. His eyes made you feel hot all over, the way they never strayed from your face whenever you spoke to him, the way they dropped to your lips every so often as if he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing you. He couldn’t.

“I just think I need to go on dates.” You nervously smiled.

“You think?” He scoffed, throwing one arm over the top of the booth, and resting it there as he fell into a relaxed position. His eye twitched slightly, as he flexed his hand and clenched it like he was holding himself back.

You’re not sure how to respond. You had anticipated this conversation to be brief, perhaps along the lines of “I think we should end this,” followed by his immediate agreement. But apparently, that wasn’t the case. You could feel yourself growing flustered the longer you sat here. Why couldn’t he just simply agree, no questions asked.

You nodded, with slight hesitance. Did you really want to end it with him? No.

He shrugged his shoulders, pulling a little smirk on his face as he usually did. “Très bien.” Fine.

And that was that.

Charles decided that he had it up to here when you strolled into the house party, lips shiny with gloss, and you hand held in none other than Alex’s. It was as if you were trying to torture him. Like you knew that he loved you and you just wanted to hurt him a little more.

He’s watching, you can feel his eyes burn into you as you turn your head, pretending to listen to Alex as he rambles on about some story. You don’t let yourself glance over to Charles until later in the night, when he’s leaned up against the kitchen counter, a half-empty beer bottle gripped in his hand, eyes already on you.

You felt your stomach do a multitude of flips from the eye-contact, that you even almost pulled your hand from Alex’s. Like you were caught doing something wrong.

You quickly realized that you had little to no self-control, especially when it came to Charles. With his hair pushed back and the linen shirt half-unbuttoned, allowing the toned and taut muscles of his stomach to peek through, it almost seemed as though he wanted to make it even harder for you to resist. Like he wanted to punish you for not choosing him.

He had you right where he wanted you, sort of.

“Shh,” Charles nips at your earlobe, eliciting a mewl from you as he presses you against the mattress of his bed. “You want everyone to hear what a whore you are, hm?”

Another string of moans leaves your lips as he thrusts into you, the pads of his fingers gripping the front of your neck tightly. His eyes fixed on yours, the pace of his hips was slow, but so deep.

“Tell me,” Charles began, his tongue trailing along your collarbones and up your neck until his mouth hovered over yours. “Still wanna play stupid games with me, jolie fille?” Pretty girl.

You whined as his hips picked up in pace. “Ouvrir.” Open. You did so without a second thought, only to be met with a string of saliva meeting your tongue. Charles groaned as you swallowed his spit, eagerly.

“Still wanna pretend we’re just friends?” He could feel your walls trembling as her hand snaked its way to the back of his neck, pulling his lips down to meet hers. It was a tangle of tongues and moans.

“Does he fuck you as good as me?” You couldn’t handle the way he was talking to you, staring at you, touching you. “Gripping me like you’re gonna come.”

You shook your head repeatedly.

“That’s it,” His voice was gentle in your ear. “So good, mon chou.”

Your breaths were jagged and heavy as he took you harder and harder. “Rub your pretty little clit for me, yeah?”

Your body was shaking as you trailed your fingers down, fingers playing with your clit. Charles rested on his knees, his eyes staring at his cock being swallowed by your pussy, and the way your fingers toyed with your sensitive clit. He groaned at the sight of his cock coated in you.

It wasn’t long before you careening forward with a cry, your body arching off the bed, as you came around his cock. Charles fell forward over you, an arm on each side of your head, as he cocooned you. His hips didn’t let up as you sobbed out, your toes curling.

Charles could feel his resolve slipping at the feeling of your soaked walls clenching him. He threw his head into the crevice of your neck, the rhythm of his hips faltering as you wrapped your legs around his waist, allowing him to thrust even deeper than before. He rolled his hips, pumping into you with such a fervent rush.

“Mon dieu,” His groans were soft in your ear. “You feel so good.”

It wasn’t until you moaned in his ear, begging for him to come in you, that he lost all control. A deep moan, pressing his hips down against yours as he held you down, pumping his cum deep into you.

For a few moments, it was silent. Just the sound of your heavy breaths as Charles collapsed to the side of you. You both felt oddly at peace, even with the thumping of the house party music heard from the other side of his bedroom door.

Charles stood up, grabbing a towel from his bathroom, before bringing it to you to help clean you up. Something primal filled his chest as he stared at you sprawled on his bed, his cum dripping out of you.

It was the last swipe of the towel when he finally spoke.

“We’re not friends.” He stated. He was sick of teetering around the topic. He was sick of seeing you with other guys at his house.

You opened your mouth to retort, but he held his hand up, essentially silencing you.

“Stop pretending you want any other guy’s cock.” He stood before you as you sat up on the edge of the bed still naked, hands clenched at his sides in a fist. You began to stand up, your face turning red with anger, not because of his words but because he was right.

You grabbed your dress that was in a pile on the floor, slipping it on in a hurry. “Je dois partir.” I need to go. You began, “Alex me cherche probablement.” Alex is probably looking for me.

It was then that Charles raised his voice, if it weren’t for the loud music, you could’ve sworn the entire house would’ve heard.

“J’en ai tellement marre de ça!” I’m so sick of this! He runs his fingers through his hair, pacing the room back and forth. You felt your words caught in your throat as you stood still, your eyes following his every movement until he stood before you, his hands gripping your waist.. “Je t’aime!” I love you! He laughs after he says it, like he’s so pathetically in love with you and you have no care in the world for it.

“I cannot handle seeing you with another man.” He rambles off. “I cannot handle seeing you showing up here, to my home, holding another man’s hand.” He seethes, bringing his thumb and pointer finger to pinch the bridge of his nose as he breathes in, attempting to calm himself down.

“I know you love me.” His fingers grab your hand, pulling it up to his chest and holding it where his heart beats. Tears welled up in your eyes as you gazed at him, his eyes reflecting a wild intensity, his hair disheveled hair adding to his untamed allure. Sensing your vulnerability, he gently cupped your face with his other hand, offering you a tender touch. You leaned into his comforting embrace, as if seeking solace in his presence. With a silent nod, you pressed your head against his hand, a single tear escaping down your cheek, bearing witness to the depth of your emotions.

“I’m so sick of seeing people with what is mine.” He urged. “You can’t be someone else’s, not when you are already mine.”

“Charlie,” You drew in a deep breath, locking eyes with him, drowning in the depths of his green gaze. Every fiber of your being resonated with love for this man, an unshakeable devotion that consumed your soul.

“S’il te plait.” Please. His voice was a whispered hush as he begged. “Put me out of my misery.”

He opened his mouth to continue, but you didn’t let him. You stood on the tips of your toes, leaning forward to press your chest against his as you pressed your lips to him. His arms immediately wrapping around your waist as you slipped your tongue into his mouth. He groaned at the taste of you in his mouth again, his cock already hardening for you.

You pulled off him, “Really?” He let a small laugh escape his lips as he pulled your mouth back onto his for a small peck.

“I’m a man in love.” He grins, like he has nothing to be ashamed about.

“Je t’aime.” I love you.

Charles tenderly pressed his lips to the side of your neck, his tongue tracing delicate patterns along the velvety skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Répète-le.” Say it again. He whispers, his voice husky with desire. As his lips continue down their intoxicating dance on your neck, his fingers trail the straps of your dress, gradually easing them down your shoulders with a tantalizing touch.

“Je t’aime.” I love you. He placed a small nip to your neck, eliciting a small squeal, as he lifted you up and carried you back to his bed.

“M’so in love with you,” He presses a kiss to your lips. “Don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fic #f1 imagine #f1 one shot

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saturno-astronaut · 29 days

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OKAY SO, IMAGINE THIS, Felix and Oliver ended up lost in the city by accident, and then Felix stops the car and asks for directions.

Felix: Hey! Do you know the address of-

X: Désolé je ne parle pas anglais

Oliver: Uhg, damn, Fel, let's better ask for directions somewhere else-

Felix: Excusez-moi, pourriez-vous me donner l'adresse de *specific location*

X: Oh! C'est là-bas *gives them directions*

Felix: Merci beaucoup! -turn on the car again-

Oliver: ...Do you know French?

Felix: yup

Oliver: why you know French?

Felix: I was bored last summer.

#saltburn #felix catton #saltburn posting #oliver x felix #cattonquick #felix x oliver #oliver quick

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blurredcolour · 5 months

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You Arms Pull Me In Like The Tide Pulls Me Under | Part One

Your Arms Pull Me In Like The Tide Pulls Me Under Masterlist

Dick Winters x Female SOE Agent!Reader

The 101st Airborne's jump into Normandy is filled with unexpected surprises for all parties involved.

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Weapons, Death, Blood, Gore, Injuries, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Language, Mature/Explicit Themes - 18+ ONLY.

Note: This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal of Dick Winters by Damian Lewis. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within. Shout out to my bilingual friend who double checked my French lines for me. Non-English is denoted in italics.

Word Count: 4809

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Paris – December 10, 1944

The sea of humanity in Gare du Nord was overwhelming as Dick Winters stepped off the train from Mourmelon-le-Grand. Though it was mid-morning on a Sunday, it seemed like everyone was on the move. His height had him standing head and shoulders above most of the crowd as he made his way down the platform toward the exit, nearly bumping into a woman dressed in an olive drab uniform.

“Sorry –” He reflexively apologized in English before correcting it to the local French, though his pronunciation left a lot to be desired. “Excusez-moi.”

You turned back to him, eyes widening with recognition as they flicked over his face. “A captain now.” You smiled as your gaze eventually settled onto the two bars shining on the garrison cap of his Class-A uniform.

“A Canadian now.” He replied as his own eyes settled on the patch embroidered on your shoulder. The hip length jacket, A-line skirt, and peaked cap of the uniform suited you. “Or were you always, Charlotte?” The hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as his green eyes met yours.

He did not miss your visible swallow before you recovered with an even warmer smile than before. “I’m sorry you’ve got me confused with my good friend Charlotte Roussel. She’s told me all about you.” You offered your gloved hand to shake as you introduced yourself properly, though he wondered if it was just another cover identity.

Taking your hand in his, he shook it firmly with a bemused expression playing on his face. “Dick Winters. A pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise, Captain. If you are in need of a place to stay, I happen to have a recently vacated room in my apartment I would be happy to loan to you, free of charge. The hotels in Paris would love nothing more than to liberate you of your American dollars.”

Dick eyed you curiously, still as full of questions as the last time he had seen you in early June, yet you continued to obfuscate. “I wouldn’t want to impose…” He replied in the time-honored tradition of the polite refusal that preceded acceptance.

“Not at all. Besides, Charlotte would not forgive me if I did not repay you for saving her life.” You insisted with a nod, and he swallowed, noticing the way you now wore your hair to carefully cover your forehead beneath your uniform cap.

“If I remember it correctly, she saved mine first.”

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Normandy – June 6, 1944

After the rattling and jostling of the plane as it flew through clouds and flak, the drop onto French soil had felt peaceful in comparison. Granted of course, there was the constant awareness that enemy fire could find him on his way to the ground, but by some miracle he made it in one piece. The same could not be said of his leg bag.

After linking up with Hall from Able company, the pair had set off into the woods with only one M1 Garand between them. Dick had done his best to remain calm and reassuring despite how poorly the night seemed to be unfolding already. Small touches of humor appeared to calm the young man’s nerves but they both remained hyper vigilant to all sounds around them. Roughly ten minutes from their rendezvous they heard a noise to their right and Dick signalled for them both to halt and get low, but before Hall could level his weapon, they were face-to-face with the muzzle of German K-98 rifle.

Preparing to lunge at the soldier’s legs, Dick was brought up short when a figure in dark clothing jumped onto the man’s back, clamping a gloved hand over his mouth before burying a knife into the side of his neck. The unexpected weight thankfully pulled the weapon toward the sky before the soldier squeezed off a few rounds in the struggle, but the brutally efficient downward stroke of their blade had the soldier quickly collapsing to the ground, neutralized. Left standing was a woman clad in what first looked like a skirt but was in fact very wide-legged slacks and a wool sweater with a cap over her hair and a scarf covering her neck and face up to her eyes.

“Parlez-vous Francais?” You asked in an elevated whisper as you crouched down to wipe the blade of your knife clean on a corner of the dead man’s uniform jacket.

Dick and Hall both shook their heads in silence, dumbfounded.

“Welcome to France.” You smiled a little as you pulled down your scarf to reveal the rest of your face.

Dick was struck by many things in that moment, first and foremost being how beautiful you were, which he quickly compartmentalized as he’d been well trained to do. The second was the lack of a French accent, of any accent to your English. You almost sounded American and yet…

The stirring of brush to the left had them tensing once more before a young man of no more than sixteen, tall but obviously underfed and in clothes that had fit him several inches ago, emerged to pick up the German rifle from the forest floor. The function returned to Dick’s brain all at once and he looked back to you quickly.

“Resistance?”

You nodded in confirmation, glancing between the pair of them before turning to the young man. “Emile, donne le fusil au lieutenant.”

“Mais Charlotte…” He protested, gesturing at the older rifle slung over his shoulder.

“Maitenant, Ils auront une nuit pire que la notre.” You replied in a firm tone that brooked no argument and he handed it over to Dick who thanked him with a nod.

Hall immediately began to dig through the fallen soldier’s pockets to find him some more ammo.

“You’re a lot further inland than we were expecting you.” Your comment brought Dick’s attention back to you and he did his best not to let his annoyance at the situation show.

“Any idea where we’ve ended up?” He asked as he took what Hall was able to scrounge with a nod of thanks, tucking it into the pocket of his ODs.

“Half a kilometre outside St. Mere Eglise. You have a map?” You asked with a tilt of your head, and he hesitated a moment, knowing that while he did, it was covered in confidential material. He watched as a knowing smirk stretched your lips. “I have one without your top-secret information, one moment.”

You raised up on your knees to tuck your knife into the sheath at your hip before reaching up the back of your sweater, the motion inadvertently pulling the fabric higher to reveal the skin of your midriff. He quickly averted his eyes to the tree canopy above, wondering when the training on attractive female Resistance fighters was supposed to have been delivered.

The sound of rustling paper had him glancing carefully toward the ground and he relaxed to see you unfolding a map across the leaves and pine needles that carpeted the forest floor. The four of you gathered around as you took out a lighter, using the weak light from the flame to point out your rough position.

“Easiest way to the coast is the railroad tracks – keep off the roads. There is a squad of about ten Nazis with two officers on a horse-drawn wagon. They are making their way to their favourite spot here.” You tapped the map further into the woods.

“Favorite spot?” He prompted quietly.

“To make members of the Resistance disappear.” You replied grimly, glancing at the simple watch on your wrist. “We set explosives here,” you tapped a spot along the rail line further inland, “to detonate about now. That should help you find your way?” You looked up to him just as the explosion sounded in the distance, a column of orange lighting the sky.

“Bravo, Charlotte. À l’heure juste.” Emile beamed at you, and you nodded in reply with a grin of satisfaction.

“Merci. Any questions, gentlemen?” You asked turning back to the two Americans.

“None. Thank you, Charlotte. Be careful out here.” Dick replied earnestly, hoping you were not headed to the German’s so-called favorite spot, but he held his suspicions.

“Same to you.” You nodded firmly folding up the map as he tapped Hall on the shoulder and the pair began to make their way towards the rail line.

You had been right, the explosion made an excellent beacon. The situation continued to improve when he reconnected with Lipton, Guarnere, Malarkey, Wynn, Toye, and two boys from the 82nd. When he heard the whinny of a horse, he realized you had also given him an accurate warning about the group of Germans. While Dick presumed it was usually preferable for Resistance to avoid confrontation, with the numbers he had gathered, he preferred to eliminate the threat and arranged an ambush. Mercifully Guarnere’s premature action did not result in the failure of their attack and the men went about cleaning up the mess while Dick took a moment to reprimand him.

They were about to depart down the road when a rustling in the trees caught the hot-headed Sergeant’s ear. “Flash!” He barked out the password challenge in his brash Philly accent, sending everyone’s eyes towards the edge of the road where you stood, flanked by Emile and two other men Dick didn’t recognize.

“Thunder.” He rapidly replied on your behalf. “Don’t shoot, they’re Resistance.” He elaborated, coming to stand beside Guarnere.

“Merci, Lieutenant.” You exhaled. Your reply was muffled behind your scarf, but the relief was still audible.

“Jesus Christ, you’re a dame!” Guarnere hissed, pouring his excess adrenaline into his outburst.

Your barely smothered laugh reached Dick’s ears, making him swallow reflexively as the group watched you make your way to the back of the wagon. One of the older men, his clothes gone baggy under German occupation, carrying a weapon from the last war, grasped a corner of the tarp laying across some hidden cargo. Together you pulled it back to reveal the bodies of two more of your comrades.

“Merde.” Emile choked out and turned to take out his frustrations by kicking one of the fallen Germans at his feet.

Dick could not help the frown as he walked to the back of the wagon, his eyes falling on the form of a young boy no older than twelve.

“Goddamn he’s just a kid…” Malarkey uttered in dismay.

“They’ve got women and kids fighting out here for fuck’s sake.” Toye growled, slamming his helmet onto his head as he wrenched his eyes away from the scene, moving to take watch to the head of the wagon, obviously impatient to get moving.

“I’m sorry it’s not the outcome you were hoping for.” He looked to your eyes, wishing that scarf wasn’t hiding your face.

“But not unexpected.” You muttered back, straightening your sweater before leaning forward over the boy’s body.

“What will you do?” Dick asked as you grasped the boy’s lifeless arm and slung his torso across your shoulders, hugging his legs close to your body beneath your other arm.

“The only thing we can do - take him home to his mother, so she can bury him.” You replied as the fourth man with you, mid-forties with a build not unlike Randleman’s though still wasted away some, stepped forward to gather the remains of the twenty-something still on the wagon. “Thank you, Lieutenant. Good luck.” You met his eyes briefly, revealing your own glistening with unshed tears, before disappearing through the trees the way you had come.

The next twenty hours passed in a blur – finally reaching the assembly point, destroying the 105mm guns at Brécourt, losing Hall. Would that he could return the boy to his mother as you had been able to do with your fallen. As Dick watched Nixon open the can of food he’d been struggling with, he sighed deeply.

“Met a Resistance fighter in the woods after I landed – she spoke perfect English, Nix. No trace of any accent, at all. The men were all looking to her for direction.”

Nixon raised his eyes to meet his meaningfully. “No shit…” He blinked and handed him the successfully opened food. “Sounds to me like you met a genuine SOE agent assigned to ‘set Europe ablaze.’” His tone was dripping with envy. “Division wasn’t entirely convinced by Churchill’s boasts. She must be one tough broad.”

“She seemed pretty proficient, Lew.” Dick replied with poorly concealed admiration, eyeing the contents of the can reluctantly.

“We ought to send Churchill a thank you card, then.” He smirked knowingly.

Dick let out a half-hearted laugh before his face fell serious once more. He looked to his boots before confessing to the loss of Hall, which Nixon tried to make up for by reassuring him the map he’d retrieved would be useful. Surrendering the food with the excuse of lack of appetite, Dick wandered off lost in thought.

Honestly never expecting to lay eyes upon you again, he was stunned to see you in a hamlet somewhere between Culoville and Vierville the next day. It was no more than a tiny cluster of buildings on both sides of the road, too small to earn a name on the map. The road was clogged with refugees, fleeing the conflict, slowing the progress of the armored division they were meant to be traveling with.

Dick had diverted Easy across a nearby field behind the hedgerow, bringing them to a halt to plan their final approach, his officers naturally gathering around him.

“Christ there’s civilians everywhere.” Welsh hissed under his breath as they peered through the foliage.

“So, who’s going to knock on the door?” Compton grinned, his bulk barely concealed by the late spring greenery.

Dick paused, squinting through his binoculars as he watched you carefully set your wagon, filled with suitcases and other belongings like any other refugee, beneath the window of a café. Your gaze was fixed on the boulangerie across the lane, seeming of a mind to purchase some food for your travels. His eyes followed as you wended your way through the dwindling stream of people, clad in a spring jacket with a worn brown dress beneath, a pair of dusty boots on your feet. You stood out to no one but him.

“Dick?” Nixon prompted in a hushed whisper.

“Hold. The Resistance is here. Which means we most likely have Germans lurking nearby.”

“Resistance?” Nixon’s eyes widened as he fumbled with his jacket to retrieve his own binoculars. “You mean she’s here?!” He whirled to face the road, his movements made less than graceful by his excitement, and Dick barely contained his amused grin as you had already vanished inside the bakery.

His amusement did not last long, unfortunately, as a red-faced German solider came charging out of the café.

“Bingo.” Nixon breathed quietly.

Dick’s lips pressed into a grimace as the man re-emerged shortly thereafter dragging you by a fistful of your hair, shouting and pointing at your wagon. Any remaining civilians on the road quickly scattered into the other buildings or the fields beyond.

“He’s upset about the wagon.”

“You don’t say, Nixon” Compton replied sarcastically, a furrow forming between his brows.

Your voice carried to them, the pleading tone laced with fear making Dick tighten his grip on his binoculars. He could tell you were speaking a mixture of French and German, but not much more than that. “Lew?”

“Please in German…Please in French. I was just getting food. I’m sorry in German. I’m trying to get away from the Americans in French. The death in German. Please.”

Dick could hear the men shifting restlessly around him and lifted his head. “Tell them to hold, not yet. That café has got to be full of Germans. Plan on snipers in the fourth and fifth buildings as well.” He described the assault plan for each of the squads as your pleas continued to ring out parried by barked commands from the increasingly perturbed soldier. “But wait for my signal.” He nodded firmly to dismiss them, and they hurried off to their respective platoons.

Dick wanted to trust that you had the situation in hand, but this surely could not be unfolding according to your plan. He raised his binoculars once more to see you desperately plant your hands on the soldier’s chest, several men drawing a collective breath. Dick narrowed his eyes as your gaze shifted to the left, toward the face of your watch glinting in the afternoon sunlight. He tensed noting your proximity to that wagon, convinced now more than ever that it was filled with explosives.

The sharp ‘smack’ of the German’s glove impacting your cheek had your head snapping to the side in a way that had Dick seeing red.

“I’m going to kill him myself.” Nixon hissed under his breath, but Dick didn’t have time to respond as, surging forward, you slammed your forehead into the soldier’s nose, a bloom of red flooding down his face and yours.

He held his breath as you seemed to stumble back, a bit dazed as a commotion sounded from within the café, but he was able to exhale as you regained your feet and used your ankle to sweep the man’s jackboots right out from beneath him. Dick glanced to the wagon once more with apprehension as you yourself dove to the ground before grabbing the back of the dazed soldier’s coat and hauled his body over yours. He had barely shifted his gaze to the collection of five Germans in the doorway when the wagon exploded violently.

“Right on time…” He muttered to himself, tucking his binoculars away and preparing to advance.

Nixon turned to stare at him, speechless.

“Don’t.” He replied warningly, still unsure if you had survived the blast, giving the debris a moment to settle before he gave the signal, heading straight up the road to you.

Much to everyone’s annoyance, the telltale sound of Shermans approached from further up the road – just in time to get all the glory without really having to do any of the work. As planned, the men peeled off to clear each of the buildings as Dick rolled the dead German off your body. He watched with bated breath as Roe appeared at his side to check your pulse, nodding up to him.

“She’s alive, sir.”

The road was filled with broken glass from the explosion, and fearing for the bare skin of your legs, Dick had Roe help carry you into the bakery as Malarkey reported it clear, the medic sliding his arms beneath your shoulders. Dick did his best to ignore how soft the backs of your knees felt against his fingertips as he managed your legs. They laid you down on the floor in the back room amongst abandoned baking supplies and he swallowed as your eyes fluttered open.

“Charlotte, you’re alright, Doc’s just going to look you over, ok?”

You furrowed your brows and glanced down at Roe as he undid your coat, looking you over for injuries aside from the obvious scrapes as Dick quickly pressed a bandage to the split in your forehead from where you had broken the German’s nose.

“You’re in good hands, I need to go back out there alright?”

You sighed heavily and he looked to your eyes quickly.

“I’m sure you’re speaking in that fucking wonderful American accent of yours, Lieutenant but I cannot hear a fucking thing. I’m sorry.” You spoke, seemingly unaware that your voice was obnoxiously loud.

Dick grimaced at your language as Roe barely contained his scoff of laughter before Dick nodded to you to show that he understood. Eyes pinning yours, he pointed at you firmly before forcefully pointing at the floor.

“Stay here. Understood.” You replied with a nod, a loud groan quickly overtaking your voice.

Dick hesitated a moment, but Roe was already looking over your face and into your eyes. There was really nothing for him to do here and his men needed him outside. Securing his helmet on his head, he dashed back out into the afternoon sunshine. Aside from one sniper’s nest three buildings down the road, which was easily managed with the help of the armored division, the hamlet was secured with only one minor incident involving Muck and some broken glass.

At Nixon’s urging, which Dick allowed to play out much longer than was needed to convince him, he ordered two stretcher bearers to accompany him back to the bakery to fetch you. He was encouraged to find you sitting with your back propped up against the wall, looking more alert with your knife grasped with one hand, though you had not seemed to have had the wherewithal to unsheathe it. He crouched down in front of you carefully, sliding his helmet from his head.

“I’m just going to take that from you, there Charlotte.” He wasn’t sure why he was speaking, fully aware that you could not hear him, but your grip loosened on the weapon as he reached for it.

“Alright.” You murmured softly in response and his eyes snapped to yours.

“You can hear again?” He asked as he tucked the knife into the pocket of his ODs.

You began to nod before halting the movement abruptly. “Mostly…”

“Good. That’s good.” He smiled briefly. “Do you have any other weapons on you?”

“No.” You replied after a thoughtful pause and patting of your coat pockets.

He nodded before standing, addressing the men lingering in the doorway. “Take her to the aid station, Lieutenant Nixon and I will be there as soon as we can.”

They responded with a chorus of ‘yes sirs!’ before he stepped back out to deliver orders for the company to take a rest while they awaited their next set of instructions. It was not long before they were told to proceed to Vierville where Colonel Sink had set up the battalion command post. It was also, conveniently, where the aid station was located. Once the men were situated for the night, Dick and Nixon quickly made their way to hotel that had been taken over as a medical facility.

They had barely walked in the door, the copper tang of blood just meeting their noses, before the battalion surgeon was calling out to him.

“Winters! Why in the hell did you send me a civilian?!”

“Strategic intelligence asset, sir.” Nixon replied smoothly, stepping in front of Dick to take the heat. “Where might we find her?”

“In one of the back offices. She cannot stay here. She needs to go a hospital whenever you’re done…whatever you’re doing.” He narrowed his eyes skeptically, hands on his hips as made his way over to them between the rows of cots set up in the lobby.

“She going to be alright, sir?” Dick asked, tone carefully neutral.

“Concussion, lacerations, bruising, three stitches to the forehead, hearing gradually returning. Overall malnourishment like all the French civilians. She’ll be fine after a week or two.” He muttered. “In a civilian hospital.”

“Yes sir.” Nixon replied quickly with a grin, grabbing Dick’s arm and pulling him towards the aforementioned office.

For all his bluster, the pair were amused to find the surgeon had set you up in a rather nice space, a blanket draped over your legs and a mug of hot coffee in your hands. Though judging by the grimace you made after taking a sip, it wasn’t to your taste. Your hair pins must have fallen out during the struggle and subsequent transport as the style you’d been wearing that afternoon was lost, and a few swathes of gauze now encircled your head to hold a bandage in place over your stitches.

He knocked on the door frame quietly and you looked up, smiling at little, your eyes shifting to look at Nixon.

“Charlotte, this is Lieutenant Nixon.” Dick introduced his friend who quickly stepped forward to offer his hand.

“Lewis, please.” You took it carefully, shaking it in return.

“Charlotte Roussel.” You replied.

“Would it be alright if we asked you some questions?” Dick tilted his head, and you raised an eyebrow.

“Of course.” You almost nodded again but caught yourself more quickly this time.

Dick stepped into the room, closing the door behind him and perching on the edge of the desk as Nixon took the only chair. He tried not to grin as you sipped the coffee and grimaced once more, obviously failing to conceal his reaction as you apologized.

“It’s very bitter, but very appreciated.”

“I won’t tell the surgeon.” He nodded with a conspiratorial look.

“So, Dick tells me you’re with the Resistance?” Nixon spoke after a moment of watching your exchange.

Your eyes slid over to Dick, and he tensed, briefly concerned you might be upset with him, before you looked back to Nixon. “Yes, that’s right.”

“Any information you might be able to share with us would be of great assistance.” Nixon nodded encouragingly.

“Well, all of my documents were quite recently destroyed but I’d be happy to share what I remember with you. Do you have a map?” Your question echoed one of the first you’d asked him and pulled a small smile from Dick’s lips.

He watched quietly as Nixon produced as clean map of the area and you easily provided all the information you had on which German troops were stationed where, between wincing sips of the hot drink cupped between your hands. The intelligence officer thrust out his palm about halfway through and Dick patted down his ODs until he produced a pencil for his friend, passing it to him so he might jot down the volume of information you were able to impart.

“And what about yourself, Miss Roussel?” Nixon looked up to you once he’d acquired all your knowledge of military use.

“Me?” You blinked innocently.

“Tell us about yourself.” Nixon nodded encouragingly, leaning back in his chair.

Dick noted the way your fingers tightened slightly on the mug, and he realized it bore the logo of the requisitioned hotel, but otherwise your demeanor remained calm and collected. “I was born just outside Paris in 1920. My aunt and uncle have a farm near St. Mere Eglise. They have no children of their own and when my Uncle Phillipe was killed during the invasion my Aunt Sophie asked if I could come help her. There is more to eat out here than Paris anyway, where you can grow it.”

“Why do you speak such good English?” Dick asked, unable to help himself.

Your eyes turned to meet his curiously. “I was a university student before the war, I had an excellent teacher from America. Ms. Jones. She was able to go home before the Nazis arrived.”

There was a touch of envy there, and though Dick was convinced you were selling them a very good story, the desire for ‘home’ struck him as true. He watched as you leaned back against the wall wearily, your eyelids growing heavier.

“You’ve never been to England?” Nixon prodded.

“No, Lieutenant Nixon. I’ve never left France.”

“Your experience with explosives? Who taught you that?”

“Antoine. He fought in the last war, he was a sapper. He was there after you took out the Germans who had captured our comrades.” You looked to Dick who nodded in reply, recalling the elderly man who easily could have fit that description.

He heard his friend sigh a little in frustration as you seemed to have a perfectly reasonable answer for everything – answers that were not what he was wanting to hear. A sharp knock on the door drew the attention of the group and Dick raised his head.

“Enter.”

A runner from Colonel Sink popped his head in the door and Dick sighed internally knowing they had run out of time. “Lieutenants, Colonel Sink has requested the pair of you at battalion CP immediately.”

“Right, thank you Sergeant. We’re on our way.” He looked to Nixon who sighed audibly in defeat before the pair looked to you.

You were barely keeping your eyes open, the mug in your hand tilting precariously. Dick carefully took it from your hold and set it on the desk.

“Thank you very much for your assistance, Miss Roussel. Do take care.” He stood, wishing there was something better to say, but there was too much to do. The landing had barely taken place and was by no means a sure success yet. The best thing he could do for you was to get out there and liberate France entirely.

“I’ll see to it that you’re transferred to a hospital as soon as we can.” Nixon added.

“You’re welcome, Lieutenants. And thank you.” You replied, Dick swallowing as he could feel your gaze following him out of the room.

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

Read Part Two

Your Arms Pull Me In Like The Tide Pulls Me Under Masterlist

#dick winters x reader #dick winters #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers imagines #band of brothers

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yoooitssalexx · 3 months

Text

I G N O R I N G T H E P A S T

Viktor Drago x Balboa!Daughter Reader part 4

Sneak peak to part 4

You had promised him to be on his side tonight,the seat close to the ring by his corner. You watched a familiar looking woman approach the seats close to where you sat,realizing it was Viktor's mother and her new husband.

"You know Viktor?"She stopped in front of you,you standing to not let her intimidate you.

"I do."You nodded,raising a brow as she eyed your red jumpsuit.

"You're the balboa girl."She said,a certain distaste detectable in her tone.

"And you're the woman that walked out on her son and husband."You matched her tone,watching anger cross her and her husbands face. "I know more than you'd think,so don't think you can look down on me because you feel all high and mighty because of who your husband is."

You stood there as she walked away,smirking to yourself when you realized the truth coming from you pissed her off. You sat down in victory,checking your phone before you heard the chanting of 'Drago' begin. You stood to see the fire shoot out,music beginning as Viktor walked out.

You watched Viktor walk out,the bright red robe he wore catching your eye. Contact had been scarce while he trained,a text here and there the most frequent form of contact. You watched him confidently strut into the ring,approaching the ring to wish him luck.

He neared the ropes,smiling when he reached you. His eyes drank you in,quite enjoying the way your red jumpsuit fit.

"You look beautiful,moya printsessa."He leaned against the ropes,watching your hands come to his glove covered ones.

"Good luck,moy medved."You patted his gloves. "Ty pouluchil eto."

He nodded,bumping your fists lightly. "I missed you. Too much,and I realized.."His words died when he noticed his mother sitting in the crowd. He shook his head,turning his focus back to you. "I realized that I love you."

His words felt like a blow right to the ribs,the breath knocked out of you at his confession.

"Viktor I.."

Right then the lights dimmed,patterned lights flashing as Bianca walked out with Adonis, your father at his other side,her voice sent chills down your spine. You stepped down,making your way to your seat. Her song was short but the message was clear,she was supporting Adonis just as much as you were supporting Viktor.

———————-

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hackersluvs · 1 month

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can you do a fic about Oliver Boy from NSB, where the reader is sister with any of the other members like Regie or Justin you can pick, where she comes to LA and moves in with them since she will be attending collage in LA it was just easier for her to move in with them. So Oliver takes a liking to her but from the start Regie/Justin (her brother) made it clear that she was off limits. But when her and Sebastian start getting close as in a best friend way since they are the same age and have similar interest, Oliver starts getting jealous then they get into a argument since she been giving her the cold shoulder. And during the argument Oliver kisses her and confesses and she tells him that she also likes him.

Jealousy Jealousy - OM

paring - Oliver Moy x Macalino!Reader summary- Its been a couple months since you moved to LA and moved in with your older brother Regie Macalino and his rowdy friends.

warning- make out and cursing (all i can think of)

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡

Day you moved in

"And this is Oliver." Regie said as he introduced me to his friends. Once I made eye contact with Oliver I felt everything stop like it was just me and him in the room. He smiled and said "Hi I'm Oliver Moy." I smiled back and said Hi. Then Regie spoke up and said "Well with the introductions out of the way, she's off limits" I turned around and punched his arm "Shut up Regie."

Present time

I went into the kitchen finding Sebastian "Hey Seb wanna go get some frozen yogurt with me" I smiled at him. He chuckled "Alright alright just give me a sec and go get my wallet."

"No problem I will go wait for you in the living room"

I went into the living room and saw Oliver on his phone, my face started to heat up. "Hey Oli me and Seb are going to get frozen yogurt wanna come with."

He looked up from his phone "No I'm busy" he said coldly." H e got up And started to go up stairs and lastly said "Plus I don't want to be a fuckn third wheel on your date."

I was trying to hold back my tears and that when Sebastian came down. "Woah what happened." I wiped my tears "Nothing um lets go."

Once we arrived at yourgrtland. "Seb do you know if Oli is mad at me or something?" He gave me a weird look "Y/N Oli will be anything but mad at you if anyting he's inlov-."

"Uh um he's not mad at you he's maybe stress cause of the music vide, ignore him." "If you say so." I said as I kept eating the frozen yogurt.

Once we arrived I went up stairs to my room to work on some homework. I was about to enter my room when I was Oliver. I smiled at him. "Hey Oli"

But all he said was walk past me and ignored me. I took a deep breath and went to my room. And it went on like that for like 2 weeks.

Oliver would keep his conversation to minimal or no communication at all ignoring me and just keeping his distance. The more he ignored me the more my heart breaks.

I couldn't talk about it with Regie so i confined in Sebastian I consider with my best friend even though I'm crazy in love with his brother he's always there to listen and give me advice.

I was in the kitchen making some popcorn for me and Seb since we were going to have a movie night and I saw Oliver walk in and thought of give it another chance to talk with him.

"Hey Oli, me and Seb are having a movie night. Want to join us? I have pop corn."I said holding out the bowl of pop corn. And again he coldly said "No" I slamed he bowl on the counter making him freeze. "Okay Oliver what the fuck is your problem." "Nothing is my problem, I just don't want to watch a stupid movie with you and my brother." he said back coldly.

"No not just about the movie, you been like this for week. Tell me what I did."

He just rolled his eyes about to leave again until I spoke out again. If you hate me and don't want to be friends with me just tell me that. If you don't want me around just tell me and I will happily move out." I said tears falling down.

His faced soften can came up to me grabbing my face pulling it close to his . "I'm sorry" he let a few tears falling and kisses my forehead then looking into my eyes "I could never hate you" he started to kiss all over my face "Im sorry Im sorry, I" he paused for a minute looking away I pulled him to look at me. "What happened Oli" He look a deep breath "I got jealous okay, I'm jealous of you and Sebastian and how close you both are . I hate the thought of two being together because I'm crazy in love with you. From the first moment we met I fell for you. And I acted so stupid"

I quickly pulled him into a deep kiss and he quickly kissed back. "You are stupid a big stupid idiot" "Stupid because why would you think I wouldn't feel the same way." I said in between kisses

He deepened the kiss and pulled up to kiss onto the counter and went in between my legs. He went down to kiss my neck.

I giggled and put my hands on my hair. He came and pulled me into another kiss. We were in our own world when we heard someone.

"WHAT. THE. FUCK!" We both turned and saw Regie standing there. We both froze and didn't know what to say.

The silence was broken by Sebastian "Yo Y/N what taking you so long. Woah what going on".

"I will tell you what going Oliver is all up on my little sister, didn't I make it clear she was off limits" he yelled.

I got off the counter "Listen here Reginald, you are my older brother and I love you and respect you opinion but you can't decided who I date or not. I love Oli and I want to be with him"

Oliver hugged me from behind. And spoke up "Listen man Im sorry but I love her so much."

Regie stopped for a moment and turned about to leave and stopped "Just don't kiss in front of me and stuff its weird.

I rolled my eyes and saw Regie leave. I turned around and about to give Oliver another kiss.

"This was 100% better than the movie" Seb said while eating the popcorn

A/N- Kissing Booth drops tonight. Don't forget to give it a listen and stream it when it drops

#northstarboys #nsb #nsbxreader #regie macalino #sebastian moy #oliver moy #olivermoy x reader #olivermoyxreader #olivermoyimagines #north star boys

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andrasta14 · 11 months

Text

So the cover of my book journal has me feeling like uncultured swine again, because all the book titles on it are famous couples/duos in literature, tv shows and movies etc and at least half of them have me like: ?????

I'm enough of a nerd to want to know where they're all from, and it's been bugging me for years. But Googling them feels somehow unsporting to me. lol (Plus I think some of the spellings are French?)

So...see a pair you recognize? Let me know. 🙏

~ Couples Listed ~

Fanfan & Alexandre = ???

Lana & Clark = Superman

Paul & Joanne = ???

Andromacue & Hector = The Iliad/Greek Mythology

Leonard & Salaì = ???

Orpheus and Eurydice = Greek Mythology

Lisbeth & Miriam = ???

Mathilde & Manech = ???

Chimène & Rodrigue = ???

Emma & Dexter = ???

Yves & Pierre = Yves Saint-Laurent and Pierre Bergé

Arlequin & Columbine = ???

Julien & Mme de Rênal = The Scarlet and the Black

Edward & Vivian = ???

Edith and Marcel = ???

Marty & Jennifer = Back to the Future

Franck & Ava = ???

Jack & Rose = Titantic

Elisabeth & Richard = ???

Chouchou & Loulou = ??? (The hell kind of names are those? lol)

Roger & Jessica = ??? (Idk the first thing that jumped to mind was Roger & Jessica Rabbit lol)

Figaro & Rosine = The Marriage of Figaro

Christian & Anastasia = 50 Shades of Grey

Leeloo & Korhen = ???

Abelard & Héloïse = medieval historical romance, unsure of details

Valmont & Cecile = Dangerous Liaisons

Sam & Molly = ???

Gaston & Melle Jeanne = ???

Drazic & Anita = ???

Don Juan & Charlotte = Don Juan/Don Giovanni

Mike & Susan = Desperate Housewives

Helen & Paris = The Iliad/Greek Mythology

Quasimodo & Esmeralda = The Hunchback of Notre-Dame

Rachel & Ross = Friends

Marilyn & John = Marilyn Munroe and John F. Kennedy?

Satine & Christian = Moulin Rouge

Dorian & Henri = The Portrait of Dorian Gray

Tarzan & Jane = Tarzan

Edward & Bella = Twilight

Nino & Amélie = Amélie

Mulder & Scully = The X-Files

Arthur & Paul = Arthur Rimbaud and Paul Verlaine

Harry & Sally = When Harry Met Sally

Sandy & Danny = Grease

Benny & Joon = Benny & Joon

Toi & Moi = ???

Maverick & Charlie = Top Gun

Candy & Anthony = ???

Odysseus & Penelope = The Odyssey/The Iliad/Greek Mythology

Thelma & Louise = Thelma & Louise

Titus & Berenice = Titus and Berenice is a 1676 tragedy by Thomas Otway.

Ariane & Solal = ???

Paul & Virginie = Paul and Virginie by Jacques-Henri Bernardin de Saint-Pierre (1788).

Johnny & BB = ???

Cyrano & Roxane = Cyrano de Bergerac

Marius & Fanny = ???

Chloe & Colin = ???

Adam & Eve = The Bible

Tristan & Iseult = Tristan and Isolde

Bonnie & Clyde = the historical Bonnie & Clyde

Popeye & Olive = Popeye the Sailor Man

Simone & Yves = ???

Buffy & Angel = Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Lauren & Humphrey = Lauren Bacall and Humphrey Bogart?

Carrie and Mr Big = Sex in the City

Harry & Ginny = Harry Potter series

Clarence & Alabama = ???

Alceste & Célimène = ???

Lancelot & Guinevere = Arthurian legend

~*~

Edit:

From @theduchessofboredom

#arthur & paul could be art (arthur) garfunkel and paul simon #paul & virginie is the title of a famous 18th century novel #nino and amélie is definitely Amélie :) #yves & pierre are yves saint-laurent and pierre bergé

From @that-laj

Marty & Jennifer are from Back to the Future, if they’re the Marty and Jennifer I think they are.

@didoscity

Mike and susan are from desperate housewives (embarassed to know this). Also arthur and paul are definitely, to me, arthur rimbaud and paul verlaine. sorry for simon and garfunkel 😂

oh and titus and berenice is the name of a tragedy by corneille!

#I don't know what to tag this 😅#my random ramblings #books #literature

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watchtowerindistress · 2 years

Text

we are not our demons (12/24) - bruce wayne x batmom

Gif source: oscarspoe

Author’s note: A special guest star is appearing in this chapter. I really hope you don't think I stole Oliver Queen's tic and gave it to Bruce and Damian, I seriously didn't think that. My thought process was that over the years Damian copied his father's shtick during missions and they both rub their fingers together to stimulate their minds before a fight.

Update break after this chapter. I’ll see you in two weeks again. [Read more at the end.]

Beta-read by Heidi.

Words: 5.3k

Warning: language

Please reblog/leave a comment.

Series Masterlist | Want to be tagged? | Read on AO3

Hand on the Bible (Lord, have mercy)

I think you’re the love of my life (yo)

Baby, could you hop on a flight to find me?

-FAR AWAY by Jessie Reyez-

The sizzling noise of batter hitting the frying pan and the smell of pancakes filling the air felt like a wonderful way to start the day, Ellie surmised to herself. The heavy raindrops hitting the windowpane was just the perfect reason for some pick-me-up.

Behind her, she could sense Alfred moving around, preparing coffee for the grown-ups in this household to enjoy.

Curiosity took hold of her when something crossed her mind. “Alfred, you think Babs is going to join us for breakfast?” Hesitance was shining in Ellie’s eyes when she glanced at Alfred who was wearing his trademark apron as long as he was working in the kitchen.

A heavy sigh left Alfred’s lips at the expected question. “I don’t think so.”

Now Ellie was getting deeply concerned for her friend. “Has she even left her room since she got here? You know, just to get some fresh air or a different scenery than the same four walls?”

Alfred pursed his lips, like he was as conflicted as she was. “As much as I agree with your views, Miss Ellie, perhaps we need to give her more time to come to terms with everything. Trust me, we’ll look after her,” the older man assured her warmly and surprised her by letting his hand brush her shoulder in comfort.

Involuntarily, her lips formed into a small but appreciative smile at Alfred’s display of affection. “Thanks, Alfred,” Ellie whispered in gratitude and sent him a soft glance.

The echo of a humming sound from the hallway prompted Ellie to pull out of Alfred’s embrace.

“What smells so good?” Dick’s voice called out in curiosity when he wandered into the kitchen. His hands were sitting on his waist, enticing the attention to the detective badge stuck on the belt loops of his dark-blue jeans.

“Pancakes, Master Dick,” Alfred offered and just in time to place a fresh and warm breakfast treat on a large plate.

“Help yourself.” Ellie nodded towards the small pile of pancakes.

Ellie merely arched her eyebrows at seeing Dick dump a diabetes-like coating of maple syrup on his two flapjacks.

“Coffee?” Alfred asked, lifting a full coffee pot in the air, and without missing a beat, poured the black liquid into an empty mug on the kitchen island.

“Thanks, Al,” Dick said and instantly took a sip from the energizing drink.

While hot liquid flowed down his throat, Ellie mentioned, “Black coffee, huh? Why do I get the impression that you and your father are almost the same person?”

Dick mockingly pursed his lips in thought. “Moi?” His hand covered his chest, almost in an insulted way. “Bugs me. Speaking of the less-handsome devil, where is Bruce?”

“He had to get to Wayne Enterprises early to talk to Fox about the toxins used by the clowns for experimentation,” Ellie explained with a muffled voice.

Dick sighed and took a healthy bite from his breakfast. “Yeah, I heard about that at the station. Damn assholes.”

“Why is Dick allowed to curse around here, and I get instantly reprimanded?” Damian inquired with an indignant voice while he and Tim descended from the stairs.

“That rule applies to everyone, Master Damian.” Alfred glanced at the youngest child briefly before sending a dark glower in Dick’s direction.

“Good morning, guys,” Ellie greeted both children. “You up for some pancakes?”

Tim mumbled, “G’ morning,” under his breath while Damian chose to only nod in acknowledgment.

There was a certain bounce in Tim’s steps when he made himself comfortable on one of the bar stools next to Dick and nodded in pleased consent.

His eyes were shining with excitement when he helped himself to a small pancake and dropped several types of fruit on top of it, including blueberries and sliced apples.

Ellie poured herself a cup of coffee with some milk and two spoonful of sugar and leaned against the edge of the kitchen counter while Alfred turned off the heat from the stove. Fondness lit up in her eyes when they gazed upon Damian taking a tentative sip from his refreshing mug of cocoa before trying some cut-up strawberries.

“And here I thought you weren’t a breakfast person, Damian.”

With his mouth half-full, Dick answered with his head thrown back, “Dami likes to sample or rather let others try it out first. Like he’s some sort of paranoid king.”

Damian didn’t dignify his words with a tilt of his head. “Don’t call me that,” he merely said, hinting at the chosen nickname.

“Dami, come on, look—” An obscene amount of pastry was crammed into his mouth to prove his point before eating noisily while talking, “— nom nom nom, so good.”

Dick’s antics elicited the same physical reaction Damian and Ellie were displaying. Damian furrowed his brows. “You’re disgusting.”

“Please, Master Dick, have I taught you nothing?” Alfred admonished quietly.

Dick gulped down his food contents. “Sorry, Al.” Ellie felt his gaze settle on her in question. “You ready to go?”

With a nod displaying her agreement, Ellie replied, “Sure am,” and poured the rest of the lukewarm coffee down her throat with a satisfied moan. “Okay, let’s go.” Twirling her finger in the air, Ellie was ready to go to work and placed her mug in the sink.

“Be good, boys,” Ellie called out with a small wave when her body was already moving away. Quiet murmurs brushed against her back as a goodbye.

“So, how long have you been a cop?”

The rain was still falling relentlessly while Dick was driving her on his way to work. He narrowed his eyes in the driver’s seat and stared at Ellie with speculative scrutiny. “Do I detect a certain undertone there?”

“Oh no, it totally suits you.”

After shaking his head in jest, Dick chuckled to himself. “It’s been a long time since I received a backhanded compliment,” he mused under his breath. “And I’ve been a detective for four years, most of that time I spent in Blüdhaven.”

Ellie remembered him telling her that. Not to mention, how Bruce once told her that his son used to visit from Blüdhaven.

“Oh wow, tough place to be a cop in.”

Dick sent Ellie another inquisitive glance. “Sounds about right. You ever been?” She could understand the young man’s curiosity. Ellie knew of the stereotypical status the crime-ridden city held and the way people spoke of it despite never having visited it to gain a personal perspective.

Ellie nodded once, as conflicted memories rang through her mind. “Lived there for … I don’t know, most of my childhood and youth when I lived under the roof of my aunt and uncle.”

Respect shone in his eyes when Dick’s eyebrows rose. “Gotcha,” he said.

The towering building of Wayne Enterprises would always invoke a humbling feeling in her body when Dick dropped her off in front of the square in Old Gotham before turning to his own police duties when he drove off.

It didn’t take long with her sitting at her desk and overseeing the network infrastructure before Bruce requested Ellie into his office.

Despite their nighttime activities—Jesus, weird phrasing—Bruce usually didn’t discuss their vigilante business at work. Unless there was some serious work incident she didn’t know about.

The heels of her ankle boots stomping on the marble floor beneath her gave her a strange bout of confidence as Ellie passed Atticus sitting behind his office desk.

While he was tending to a phone call, she only pointed towards the grand oak doors to Bruce’s sanctuary to which the executive assistant nodded his head in affirmation.

Ellie briefly knocked on the sturdy wood, merely to hear the deep voice of Bruce pierce through the door. “Come on in, Ellie.”

Following his invitation, she stepped inside to discover with tingling awe how his wide shoulders and back in a sharp gray suit were facing her. Bruce bent over his desk and examined several document sheets. The muscles in his back rippled with every single delicious movement. It actually rendered her speechless when she tugged on her bottom lip.

“You do know that you don’t have to knock, right?” Bruce sent her an open expression over his shoulder and gathered the rustling papers into a dossier.

Ellie shut the door behind her with a satisfying click before stepping further into the CEO’s office. Smiling briefly, the young woman shrugged her shoulders. “Just making sure I don’t disturb any … indecent undertakings.”

Bruce’s expression twisted to an uncomfortable aura when he furrowed his brows. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I’d like to think that we do things differently here than at LuthorCorp.”

A worn-out sigh blew between her lips when she made herself comfortable on the couch by the high-ceiling windows.

Ellie smiled bitterly once a certain memory invaded her mind like a spider coiling around the inside of her head. “I wasn’t thinking about the Luthors actually.”

Bruce’s eyes hardened at Ellie’s mysterious words, but she had a feeling that he knew her file by memory and could guess which company she was talking about.

In her quest to shield her pride, Ellie put her tablet in her lap and cleared her throat. “So, what did you call me in for?”

Bruce narrowed his eyes before settling down next to Ellie, brushing the fabric of his suit away as he eased back on the couch.

“Just wanted to let you know what Fox found out.”

Ellie’s interest piqued at once when she stared at Bruce to display her true sentiments towards those findings. “What did he say? Are the kids safe?”

Bruce glanced at his surroundings to reveal a biting smile. “‘Safe’ is a broad term. Fox analyzed a strange chemical mix from the compound—his words, not mine. Something about stimulants and genetically modifying substances.”

A chill went through her body at the image Bruce vividly portrayed. Ellie couldn’t help but feel connected to those poor souls. Despite her own traumatic experience with Scarecrow and Professor Strange who pumped her with a highly concentrated phobia-triggering toxin, Ellie couldn’t envision what those kids had to endure and would have to face in the future.

“How high is the probability that we could be dealing with new kinds of meta-humans?”

“Very high. And an even greater danger that those kids could have died from the half-assed procedure.”

Ellie exhaled deeply at the sour reality Bruce was depicting and shook her head. “Damn clowns. What do you plan to do?”

With pursed lips, a deep furrow anchored between Bruce’s eyebrows when he sent a curious glance towards Ellie. “What makes you think I’ve got something planned?”

Ellie’s lips quirked into a teasing smile when she pointed with her finger to those brown orbs. “I know that glint in your eyes. It’s the same expression you had on your face right before you wanted to achieve your own Die Hard in an elevator.”

Bruce shook his head and effectively hid a small smirk.

“This morning, I sent over the legal documents to West Mercy that I would cover any hospital bills for the kids in the ICU.”

Despite her raised eyebrows to display her surprise, Ellie shouldn’t have been. “Healthcare in this government is a joke if you don’t have it,” she mused under her breath, with a small nod.

After she had heard the radio call about the transfer of more than dozens of children into intensive care, her curiosity had peaked. Just as she expected, all those primary locations where those kids were abducted were low-income communities. It still tore at her heart to find out that most of these children were orphans who needed a stable home more than an uncertain time in a hospital bed.

“No teasing words that I got more money to throw out the window than Ted Kord?”

Ellie rolled her eyes. “Oh please, I never said that’s a dreadful thing. If anything, you’re helping these victims. I won’t condemn you for wanting to help people. Anything else you want to tell me?”

Bruce’s eyes lingered on hers, as if he was silently looking for answers only she could give. Avoiding Ellie’s gaze at the last second, he shook his head with a bittersweet look. “No, that’s all.”

Torn between confusion and wanting to make a joke, Ellie replied, “Alright, thanks for the short update, I guess?”

Bruce smiled lightly. “Anytime.”

“I’ll see you at home?”

Nodding with slow movements, he said, “I’ll see you there.”

As her body moved towards the office door, Ellie could only think, “That was so damn weird.”

Ellie hated bringing her work home—and since when did she call Wayne Manor her home? —but desperate times called for desperate measures. Especially since Bruce’s unsaid words managed to successfully distract her from work. She usually would’ve worked from the safety of her own room, but she wanted to intercept Bruce once he walked through the doors.

But once a few hours had passed, Ellie’s concern for him only rose. The scurrying form of Alfred passing behind the living room couch where she was sitting made her open her mouth. “Alfred, where’s Bruce?”

The butler tilted his head and kept the clean laundry basket in a tight grip under his arms. “Master Wayne didn’t tell you?”

Ellie raised her eyebrows in befuddlement once Alfred finally confirmed her suspicions. “Tell me what?”

Without giving her an answer, Alfred bent forward to turn on the TV with a click of the remote. The flat screen turned to life and revealed Bruce standing in front of a building, with cameras snapping in a blinding and staccato rhythm.

The headline ‘Bruce Wayne inducts renovated orphanage’ was visible at the bottom of the screen, with the small detail ‘named after Marion Grange, a close confidant of the Wayne family and former Mayor of Gotham’ underneath it.

Bruce appeared composed by the onslaught of media coverage and let a small, neutral smile thrive on his lips. These were one of those instances when Bruce’s cool-as-a-cucumber attitude in front of reporters truly astounded Ellie. How the entrepreneur could remain calm and collected in light of the media shoving cameras into his face, like it was no big feat at all. How he could render them speechless with just one look.

“—to the Marion Grange Orphanage. After the cowardly attack on Gotham’s children, the Wayne Foundation is more than willing to stand up for this young generation. We are not here to remind of this trauma, but instead I’d like us to be a unity. To support them as best as possible. Why not start by giving them a renovated home?”

Ellie breathed in deeply and felt her unfocused eyes gaze at Bruce’s bashful smile. She could sense the burning stare of Alfred’s lingering on the side of her face. Expecting some sort of reaction from the woman. No living person could stay this cold after hearing this billionaire willingly offering his money resources for the sake of the community. Rich entrepreneurs like Maxwell Lord, not included.

The brunette cleared her throat as soon as that thought unconsciously entered her head. All this time had passed, and that name still threw her off balance. “Bruce doesn’t waste any time, huh?”

Alfred supported the bottom of the laundry basket on the back of the couch. “That’s Master Bruce for you. If he wants something, he’s going to make sure he’s getting it.”

An amused smirk lifted one corner of Ellie’s mouth at the reminder of Bruce’s stubbornness. The memory of his job offers and how he sought her out, came forth.

“I figured.”

If anything, Alfred’s affirmation of his ward only revealed how Bruce and she were so much alike. At least regarding the things they believed in and felt passionate about. The cowardly assault on her best friend, Barbara, only made her realize the depths of her unconscious darkness inside her. And how far Ellie was willing to go to keep the people she loved safe.

Just as expected, catching the Joker proved to be an almost impossible accomplishment because of that undying and morbid loyalty of his entourage of killer clowns. It would work in their favor that Harley’s so-called allegiance was tenuous at best.

A sudden and unexpected thought hit her out of nowhere at the reminder of that psychotic psychiatrist.

“Something the matter, Miss Ellie?”

She cleared her throat at being roused from her contemplation. “How long do you think Bruce is going to be away for?”

“I’d reckon for the rest of the night. You know what a social butterfly he is—always making friends at those functions. Not to mention, I made him promise to mingle and not to come back until ten in the evening.”

A strained smile twitched at the corners of her lips once Alfred confirmed her assumptions before he wandered away to continue the laundry. The thought that reckless ideas only came during the night intensified.

The Arkham Asylum footage of Quinn’s breakout came to mind. Ellie narrowed her eyes as she strained her ears to the butler’s receding footsteps.

Harley had hesitated. It was all Ellie needed to be certain in her belief. That Harley would’ve gone with Ivy if given the chance.

With her resolve strengthening, Ellie stood up to turn off the TV with the push of the button. It was time to have a chat with Poison Ivy.

Famous last words.

The grass under Ellie’s shoes made soft-dewy sounds while she was walking down the path leading from the back of the manor. The strap of her backpack was a soothing anchor on her shoulder.

After pressing a few buttons on the keypad to access the CCTVs of Gotham City, Ellie was certain of Ivy’s location, the botanist’s trusted safe harbor of the Botanic Gardens, while bending over the Batcomputer in the cave. Just to be on the safe side, she filled her bag with some herbicide agent, a sonic cry gadget and her tablet.

To be honest, it kind of baffled Ellie that Bruce had some herbicide lying around. Just in case Poison Ivy would meddle too much into his vigilante work.

The long navy-blue overcoat that reached her knees was a nice comfort to ward off the strange fall/winter chilliness as Ellie pushed her lapels higher up her neck. Her thick-rimmed glasses fogged up from the brisk weather.

“Where are you going?”

The young voice carried mysteriously with the wind from behind. Strangely, the haunting effect was more startling than hearing the noise itself.

Ellie stopped in her tracks, covering her chest to slow her pounding heart. “Oh sheesh, wear a bell, why don’t you, huh?” Her body slowly turned around until she was facing the stoic-faced Damian. “Maybe I’m just going out for a walk,” Ellie defended herself and hoped that Damian wouldn’t question her backpack.

He crossed his arms over his chest, displaying his trademark stance. “And that’s why you took some herbicide with you? To obliterate some weed along the way?”

Ellie blinked profusely, trying to process Damian’s quick thinking.

“I was in the Batcave,” he explained. “I’m invisible if I want to be.”

Ellie rolled her eyes with a sigh. “Damn ninjas,” she grumbled under her breath.

Her glasses must have fooled her when she thought she saw the corners of Damian’s mouth twitch.

“You’re far more reckless than I thought you would be if you intend to face the green lady.”

“That’s why I’m just going to have a simple conversation.”

Damian narrowed his eyes. “Father won’t like this,” he admitted with a dark promise.

Oh God, was she proving to be a sort-of bad mother figure?

It was excruciating to even exhale the words from her mouth. “Well, I won’t tell him if you don’t.”

Ellie’s revelation made Damian raise an eyebrow before stating, “Alright, I guess I’m in the mood to vanquish some plants.”

She knew Damian would be perfectly capable of defending himself but the idea of the young boy getting hurt—even the notion of it—pressed a pounding migraine behind her eyelids. One occurring event of Damian having to endure a phobia-induced episode was enough in her eyes.

Ellie’s pained thoughts prompted her to turn her head to study the side of the boy’s face, wondering what had happened in his life to being forced to face this vigilante life.

Brown eyes were staring back at her. “What?”

Ellie shook her head, not knowing if she could find the words to say how sorry she truly felt. That she felt responsible that Strange hurt him and that she left them all.

“Nothing.”

Their walk after their train ride to Robinson Park remained quiet while dawn slowly set in and cloaked them in a protective shroud. It surprised Ellie how Damian’s presence took away this uneasy fear—at least most of it.

The wraith-like silhouettes of the greenhouse stood ominously among the leafless oak trees of the Botanic Gardens. Ellie clenched her hands into fists the closer they got to the looming glasshouse and felt her nervous beating heart pound in her head like a constant reminder.

Taking the tablet out of her backpack with a quiet whirr of the zipper, Ellie accessed the CCTV of their surroundings. “No hostiles so far,” she mumbled under her breath. “I wonder where Grundy is.”

“Oh please, everybody knows Solomon Grundy keeps to the West side of the Gardens.” Damian continued with shrugging shoulders after receiving a perplexed look from Ellie, “He likes stroking and talking to the enormous Venus flytraps Ivy set up there.”

Ellie arched her eyebrows. This seemed to be public knowledge among the vigilantes. “Good to know that Grundy’s just a big ol’ softie.”

A grunting sound left Damian’s mouth. If it were any other situation that didn’t involve a cloak and dagger operation, Ellie would have teased the usually deadpan kid. But for now, Ellie metaphorically patted herself on the back for magically creating a smile on his face—she would take what she could get.

“Do you mind?”

Damian squeezed past Ellie and entered the premises with a turn of the knob, taking on a defensive stance once he was inside. The hood of his sweatshirt was pulled over his head to shroud his identity. The material of the brown cord jacket he was wearing tensed under his straining muscles, as Damian was getting ready to fight some plants.

“Sure thing,” Ellie whispered at a moderate volume and hoped these words were able to reach him as she stood a few feet behind him.

They turned a corner and just as she expected, a Venus flytrap made twitching movements and hissing sounds. Right before it instinctively reared its hungry head to their direction, opening its mouth to spit a long-range attack.

“That’s just perfect,” Damian grumbled in dismay, tapping his index finger against his pant leg. An action that made Ellie narrow her eyes and invoke a feeling of déjà vu. “Stay behind me.”

Damian barely even uttered the words before he did a somersault and evaded the mutant hybrid’s seed bombs by making an enviable split in front of it. With a grunt, his arm held the plant back, choking the life out of it.

“Wait, Da—, no!” Her boots stomped on the floor as she scurried towards him. The flytrap made wheezing sounds, struggling for air. Ellie felt uncomfortable when it twisted its head towards her, despite the absence of eyes in general.

“I thought I told you to stand back,” he grunted with great exertion. Damian stood behind the hybrid plant, slowly suffocating it with his arm.

“We’re just going to have a conversation. I’m not really interested in torturing her pets.”

Damian’s eyes burned with dark malice. “You realize this thing can still spit, right?”

“I just need you to subdue it, not kill it.”

Ellie’s gaze wandered to where she imagined its eyes were. “Damian’s not going to harm you.” The boy’s answer was an indignant harrumph. “I just want to talk. Tell your … Ivy this is about Harley.”

The plant shuddered, like the connection to the botanist compelled it to, before slowly closing its mouth.

Ellie’s wide eyes met Damian’s. “Now, let go, please.”

Clenching his jaw, hesitance still ruled over his features. “Fine, but if that thing opens its mouth again, I’m hitting it.”

Sensing its freedom again, it unhurriedly turned its head at the challenge, finally meeting Damian. It was vibrating with a purring noise.

Disgust took over his face.

“Stay here, alright? I need some alone time.”

Confusion was apparent in his furrowed brows. “Oh, you’re actually serious.”

“I’m going to scream if I need you.” Ellie shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe you should follow Grundy’s example. Stroke it and talk to it.”

Damian huffed and faced his new nemesis with his arms folded and at least six feet between them. “Yeah, right.”

Ellie could feel his stare burn a hole at the back of her head with her descent down the stairs, trying to shake off the eerie feeling of being in the company of Poison Ivy’s hybrid plants sitting in every corner of her lair. Just thrumming with energy and unreleased pheromones. Simply standing back and watching Ellie with interest.

She tried to instill some courage by quietly talking to herself. “Okay, nothing freaky here. Everything’s a-okay.” She stretched her arms at her side with jerky movements.

While she was inspecting her surroundings, Ellie noticed how Ivy seemed to have dug deep under the greenhouse, restructuring the facility, and exposing the sewer system.

At the end of the drainage system, a tree monster with its head made of branches almost hit the ceiling of the corridor. Ellie’s nervous steps halted even more the closer she got to the unfamiliar branch creature. It made grumbling noises while sluggishly walking around, with every step it took, squeaking wood noises accompanied it. She felt like the guest of honor when it opened the gates on her left, intending for her to walk through.

“I guess that’s me then. Nothing weird about any of this.”

“Excuse my babies,” a sultry rich voice called out from the center of the basement.

Finally, Ellie caught sight of the woman’s red hair before her green skin did. Ivy leaves adorned her fiery head and revealed a path down her slender neck, arms, and legs. A form-fitting bodysuit revealed her long legs and ended over her hips. Up close, her upper body had a more ‘human’ tanned skin color as it progressed into a more luminous green. Inky-green veins on her jaw dispersed down her neck. Ivy’s face had a more shimmering light-green complexion, making her seem like a party girl who was just into green glitter.

Subconsciously, her feet stepped towards her, feeling fascinated by Ivy’s aura.

The red-haired woman tilted her head in enthrallment and let her eyes glint mysteriously. “If I had known I would get guests for tonight, I would have laid out the Christmas lights early.” Ivy’s red-varnished nail tapped against her jaw in speculation. “Especially if they look so delectable. Maybe litter this place with some cocoons. Make it nice and homey.”

Ellie shuddered at the thought of mummified victims lying around in every corner, depicting some haunted greenhouse instead.

“I’m not here for a date, Ivy. This is about Harley.”

Like a flipped switch, Ivy’s vibrant green eyes dimmed, giving off a serious disposition. Ivy’s naked feet padded on the floor to get closer to Ellie. She stayed rooted in place, not letting Ivy intimidate her but knowing what she was in for as soon as she would utter Harley’s name in Ivy’s presence.

“What about dear old Harley?” Her gravelly voice and stone-cold expression made her heart pound nervously in her chest. Ivy’s closeness let her body temperature rise and made Ellie realize how the botanist stood a head taller than her.

Okay, she was damn threatening if she intended to be.

“This is kinda about Harley. All I want is the Joker. What would you say to an arrangement, so I can deal with him for good?”

Ivy licked her lips and tilted her head to inspect her adversary better. Barely hidden interest was shining in her eyes. “What can I say? I wouldn’t invite him to my birthday party.”

“We have a common enemy. I want the Joker … gone.”

A bored expression took over her face. “What makes you think I’d want to help you?”

“You’re saying you lack motivation in getting a girlfriend away from her abuser?”

Ivy snorted while rolling her eyes. “You presume to know what I want, but you don’t, little girl.”

Ellie narrowed her eyes, trying to detect some cracks in her armor. “What I know is that Quinn revealed the slightest reluctance in escaping Arkham … and leaving her beloved green friend.” She coughed, feeling uncomfortable at the thought of insulting Ivy’s complexion. “I mean, you. Just in case Harley knows any other people with the same … nature-green skin.”

Ivy hummed under her breath, barely even fazed by Ellie’s words. Her eyes were focusing on a spot next to her head, lost in her own thoughts. “Is that so?”

“If it weren’t for a lunatic boyfriend knocking her unconscious, then yes. I’d say so.”

Ivy’s eyes stared at her again, dark intent was taking over. “What do you want exactly?”

“It’d be nice to have an ally, at least temporarily. Help me take him down. Keep your ears - or at least ivy twines - on the street and tell me where to find him.”

Ivy pursed her lips. “Getting Harls away from the Joker sounds perfect. But don’t get me wrong, cross me, and my beloved babies will strangle you to death.” Her fingers shaped into claws as they inched closer to her throat.

A strained smile tugged on Ellie’s lips. “Alright, duly noted.”

Ivy’s eyes reduced to slits. “What’s your name again?”

Ellie swallowed thickly, unsure if she should reveal her real name at last. “Rhodes,” she muttered through gritted teeth.

Ivy smirked. “Rhodes,” she tasted the name on her lips with a sensual voice. It was strange hearing her pronounce her last name like it was a delicious dessert. “You may call me Ivy.”

A humming noise left her when she nodded her head in consent. Her brown eyes found Ivy’s gaze lingering on her lips. As much as Ellie felt flattered, she didn’t want to take the risk of her poison kiss.

“You’re not going to kiss me, are you?” Ellie asked anxiously, biting her lip with hesitation.

Ivy smirked crookedly, meeting her lips with fire shining in her eyes. “If you want me to. I wouldn’t say no, Rhodes. I mean, why not go all in to seal our arrangement, you know?” Ivy arched an eyebrow and let her breath ghost over her cheeks.

“Now, don’t get any ideas, Ivy.”

Hooded green eyes were gazing with deep longing at her mouth and purring vibrations reverberated from deep within her chest. “Pity.”

Mild concern disclosed in her furrowed eyebrows and folded arms. “What is your fascination with the Joker? He killed your dog for sport, or something?”

Ellie debated with herself on how much she could or should reveal. “That bastard mutilated a friend. I don’t take kindly to people disabling my family.”

Understanding shone in Ivy’s eyes when she nodded slowly. “He’s all yours. But for now, you should hit the night scene of Gotham. Maybe try Penguin’s club in town. Tomorrow night. I hear he has a deal going down. Keeps Harls close.” Her arms stretched at her side. “Let’s keep in touch, why don’t we?”

Smiling fondly, Ivy cocked a hip and made a humming noise. She lifted a hand, waving sultrily goodbye in a silent answer.

A/N: Just so you know, when I teased Maxwell Lord in We are not our masks, I had no idea he was going to be in Wonder Woman: 1984. You could say I'm not sticking to that universe.

Ivy's 'look' was inspired by a mix of the Arkhamverse and the game DC Universe Online. To be honest, I reaaaaalllllly loved writing the scene with Ivy and Ellie. Such a great, fascinating dynamic they both have.

Tagging: @mellowstatesmanhandsempath @ravenmoore14 @alwayshave-faith @ikranfuad @daydreaming-gemini @bluegalaxyprime @liadamerondjarin @steph21369 @andrewswifes-blog @yanna-banana

#steph writes #watchtowerindistress #we are not our demons #batfleck #batfleck x oc #bruce wayne x oc #bruce wayne fic #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne imagines #batman x oc #bruce wayne #bruce wayne fanfiction #batman imagines #batman imagine #dick grayson #alfred pennyworth #tim drake #bruce wayne x batmom

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ghostiiess · 5 months

Text

[NSB HEADCANONS] - them taking care of you when you’re pregnant!

synopsis: title says it all!

warnings: mention of morning sickness, vomiting, pregnancy stuff… some mistakes here and there

type: fluff

members: everyone

wc: around 200 by members? i think? so around 1.4K

not feeling 100% great atm, so im sorry if theres mistakes :((

reblogs and likes are very appreciated!

OLIVER MOY - the one who would support you by doing the tasks / giving you compliments during that period

The sweetest man

He would literally be the best dad, fr

LIKE HAVE YOU SEEN HIM WITH KIDS??? (Talking abt the members rn 🤣)

He would do all the tasks for you

And compliment you!

Oli would make sure that you eat food and drink your water

« And here’s for you, my love!!! Your favorite pasta! »

he would be soooo supportive 🥹

« Hey baby, I’ll take care of it! Go rest yourself, alright? »

« c’mon my love. Go take a break, I’ll do the chores! »

He’s literally the man we all wish we had in our life

« You look so beautiful with that baby dump »

« our baby will be so pretty »

« Do you think they will have my eyes or yours? Gosh, i hope they will have yours.. yours are so pretty »

OLIVER MOY, STOP BEING SO DAMN CUTE LIKE???

He would literally be the cutest man alive during this time (as if he wasnt enough sweet like that)

like tell me if im wrong (im not)

(Others members under the cut!)

SEBASTIAN MOY - the one who would try to make you laugh / smile

Listen…

This man would try to make the time less crampy

less painful too

Remember the video where he took the pregnancy test? He was screaming.

He knows you’re strong enough, and everything… but he hates seeing you in pain (even though its normal since ur literally pregnant lol)

So, obvs since he know it hurts, he would try to make the time less hard for you :( bc he know that the test and the pregnancy state is two completely different things

he took the pregnancy test and it hurted him so bad... he can't imagine it must be for you

But if he can make the time less painful by making you laugh / smile, he would do it

This man would buy flowers.

I just see him walking in ur house and being like « hey, here’s flowers for the future mommy »

Also, he would try to crack jokes here and there

Pregnancy jokes, even!

« Why did the pregnant woman go on a picnic? Because she was craving a little something extra! »

thank you seb for this joke 😐

He would also bring your favorite food / drinks 🥤

He would search them on google and he would be so proud

"im gonna be the funny one in this family"

He’s the energetic member of the group, but for you, he would try to rest and not move too much 🥲 like this man would, surprisingly, be calm (only for you, babe)

Seb would be such a good supporter too, although affirmations is not his first love language, he would be super cute. i promise you :)

RYAN NGUYEN - the one who would help you with ur cravings / the one who try to make you relax

He would judge you so bad for ur cravings

But he would buy them for you

Why? Bc even though he thinks its weird, he knows it could make u happy and make you smile

And him seeing your smile can easily make his day 😚

« babe, i love you with all my heart, i truly do, but… why are you putting bananas in apple sauce and yogourt…? »

But he loves you! (sometimes hes giving you a side eye)

Also… he would literally take care of everything

A bit like Oliver would do :)

« Babe, don’t worry abt it! I can take care of it »

« Need help? Alright, wait a sec »

He would quit his game for you in like 0.3844843 sec

« What the fuck just happened?!?!- baby? Need help? Yeah, one sec… alright boys, im heading out » (he would say smth like that)

« Go relax, my love. I can do it »

« Baby… stop overworking yourself! I know you can do it, but i want you to relax… you’ve been working all day »

Also, even thought it doesn’t look like it, he would be super supportive

He’s just more an ‘actions’ than a ‘word’ kind of person

JUSTIN PHAN - the one who would send you voices messages during your day to make sure ur taking care of urself and not overworking / help you with your morning sickness

Justin would be the type to grab his phone during a really important moment and just text you / give u voice messages

Although he know u love helping around in the house and doing ur tasks, he make sure that you don’t get overworked

« Hey baby, im with the boys at the store… do u need anything at the store? »

This man’s would also help you during the morning sickness

He just want the best for you 😁

Jp look like the person who knows when there’s a problem without you having to say it

« Hey baby, is everything okay? »

Like idk why but he look like the type that would read faces lol

he has this gut feeling, what can i say?

« Hold on, drink that glass of water, okay? Deep breath, baby… »

« Yeah, just like that »

If he see you vomiting, he would take ur hair up and pat ur back

« it’s okay baby, let it all out, everything's gonna be fine»

« if anything happen, wake me up alright? I want to be there for you »

Like for sure, seeing vomit is not the most aesthetic thing he saw, but he knows that it’s normal

KANE RATAN - the one who would massage you and listen to you

this man would be so cute.

I literally said that to everyone 💀 but it’s true

We all know how kane give good massages

This man know what he’s doing!

He probably took massages classes when he was younger, bc this man would give u the best massage ever

« come here, i will give you a lil’ massage, baby… let me knock out the stress away! »

Also, during the massage…

He would literally let you talk about your pregnancy, how the cramps are, how is it… or just random stuff haha

In others words: let you vent abt what ur going through during that time, because he knows its not always easy

« Tell me if it hurt, okay? I don’t want to hurt you »

Also, i feel he would be the type to ask this question:

« Do you think we’ll have a girl or a boy? »

« if im being honest, i don’t really mind if its a girl or a boy… as long as they’re happy, im happy »

« Do you think we could play anime music? Do you think it would make them a fan of AOT? Or we could play one piece!! omg baby, do you think they would like aot or one piece more? »

Not Kane wanting to make ur future baby (not even borned yet lol) a fan of AOT… such a relaxing and childish anime, wow!!!

DARREN LIANG - the one who would cook for you and kiss ur cramps away

We all know how Darren is a great cook

So I’m sure he would love to cook for you :)

« hey babe, i just cooked ur favorite meal! »

Isn’t he so cute? 🥹

The con is that he would judge your cravings.. like Ryan.

BUTTTTT he know it can make you happy, so he would obviously make them for you if it can make you happy!

Also, he would kiss your cramps away

To me, he looks like such a sweetheart when it come to pain or smth like that

« Hey baby, are you okay? »

« Do you want me to help you? »

A bit like Kane, dar’ would give you a little massage

« You’re so cute baby »

And he would kiss you 🤭 bc it’s Darren we’re talking abt!

also, if ur in the mood... its ur lucky day!! bc this man's always in the mood!

« Are you feeling a bit better? »

« Come and rest next to me, alright? »

He’s such a sweetheart, woah

REGIE MACALINO - the one who would go shopping with you for baby clothes / decorations

He would be the best dad ever, no joke

He would buy soooo many decorations and clothes, like we all know how regie has style, like there’s absolutely no way his son / daughter won’t have style too

And even if regie says « i put whatever i want » like okay maybe he do, but like it is styled in a way that i can’t explain lmaooo

I’m sorry, he just seem to be the type to search a bit in store, then on pinterest to see what would look good lol 🫢

I’m sure regie would be the type to search on Pinterest some baby decorations

Btw, your baby's room would be sooo messy, im so sorry

Regie would only look for cool bedsheets and fun decorations, but not for organizer bc have you seen his room?? Guys, it’s a bit messy im sorry

So regie wouldn’t be the type to buy organizer, BUTTTTTT he would make sure to let (try) the piece clean with his kid if it can make you happy

Regie seems tough, but he’s indeed a big sweetheart

He has sm love for us the star (his fan) so imagine for his kid-

He would be the cutest dad ever, like I’m sure regie would be there for his kid in all the ways he can

He would take care of you so so much too

He would be like Oliver haha

Sing for you, make you food, do the tasks (look how gentleman he is)… also, he would def make the baby like him more.. im sorry

taglist! (open! send an ask if you’d like to be added) : @nsb-rkive @kentisbaby @firebenderwolf @hyuneee0 @yawnzzznnn @ghostyycat7

Olegie has my heart 🤭

100% recommand this man!

Bold can’t be tagged.

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nsb-rkive · 2 years

Note

If it’s possible two nsb reactions? Nsb reaction to you being a baddie and nsb reaction to you being a gamer god/godess/royalty. love your writing btw 💕

(sorry if I took a lot, hope you like anyways<3)

𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙨/𝙤 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖 𝙜𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙧🎮

PAIRING(S):: nsb x reader

GENRE(S):: soft/fluff, reaction, req

W.C:: 0.9k

WARNING(S):: none

NOT CHECKED TWICE

AU:: hi everyone im back!! Sorry for being dry, but i was on vacation and I’ve also done a few things so I didn't have so much time to post, sorry:// Anyways hope you enjoy! <3

🎮 | Oliver

So, Oliver doesn't play video games that much as the other ones do, but I don't think that would be a big deal if his s/o was a gamer. Of course he’d rather spend time with you as much as possible, so he might interrupt and distract you from your games, but I don’t think he’d turn it into a big problem, yk. “Babe can we go out?” “Babe i want your attention, you’ve been playing for 2 hours straight now” and ofc, as a good simp, you would stop playing and start giving attention to your boyfriend. He’s a really sweet guy, he would do anything for you, so when you’d ask him to play valorant with him, he’d hesitate at first but accept it. He looks so cute while sitting between your legs, with you behind him explaining and helping him with the game I'M SOBBING.

🎮 | Kane

Kane doesn't really mind, tbh. I think he’d just lay on his bed and watch anime till you’re done playing. Otherwise, he’d watch you playing and try to learn more from you. “OMG HOW DID U DO THAT” “Damn my girl is a pro AHAHA” bet he would say things like this. I think he’d also try to challenge you “We all know i am going to win, come on” then lose IM LAUGHING SO HARD PLS- as we all know, he hates losing even tho he always do LMAO so i think he’d get “mad” at you for laughing and making fun of the words the said earlier. Just know that everything has a consequence, so be ready for a revenge cuz this boy ain't letting you rest

🎮 | Justin

Oh lord, Justin won't leave you alone, especially after you started playing valorant. He’d ask you to play with him whenever you both are free, it’s so cute of him😭 “Fuck y/n did you train or something? How come you are beating me at killing??” He’d start bragging about how good you are at playing and this shit. Probably you would go to one of those computer cafeterias for some gaming date or to relax after watching a movie or sum. Just go play with him when u can, he loves to see your concentrate face while u play HE IS SO CUTE PLEASE

🎮 | Regie

He wouldn't believe you at first, but after you showed him your skills at playing valo, he immediately changed his mind. I dont think he plays valo that much, but Dota, so he’d probably ask you to play with him. If you dont know how to play it, he’ll teach you how to do it. Same as Oliver, but this time you are sitting on his legs while he leads your hands on the mouse and keyboard. You’d get excited because you are slowly learning and he cant help but giggle and smile while thinking about how cute you are. The urge to punch him for being so pretty and adorable damn it

🎮 | Ryan

So, as we know way too damn well, Ryan is a gamer, so bet he’d be more than happy to have a partner who’s too. He would ask you to join him to play valorant together. Ofc you’d play other games too, like Fall Guys or League of Legends, but he just finds it so cute how competitive you become while playing. You two would yell so loud that even the neighbors would come to your place to complain abt it LMAOAOAOAO DEF ME. It seems all cute but man don't be fooled by his rbf, ryan could get pissed if u win the game PLS💀💀 “Babe what’s wrong?” “Nothing sigh” you can clearly tell he is pissed so let him win the game so mf doesn't complain that much😭😭😭 He’d probably download and buy more games just for you to play together AWWW MY BABY

🎮 | Darren

As much as he likes playing video games, I don't think Darren plays that much tbh, but still he thinks it’s really cool that his s/o is a gamer. Like Justin, he’d probably go around and brag abt u being a gamer. Sometimes he’d look at you while playing, but usually he prefers lying down and putting his head on your tights while looking at his phone. BIG ASS HEAD BEING SO CUTE HELP After you are done playing he’d probably take you out for an ice cream or something. Make sure to give him a lot of attention tho, or mf will interrupt you in the middle of the game to kiss your lips fight me darren🤺

🎮 | Sebastian

Like Oliver and Darren, Seb doesnt play that much, maybe less than Darren, but still it doesnt bother him if you were a gamer. He’d let you play as much as you want, and while you do so, he’d work or watch Netflix. “What game is this? Oh I've never played it before, can I try?” such a cUTIEEEEE CRYING He can be annoying as HELL sometimes, but he just loves you a lot, and he wants to keep you as close as possible because you are his first partner (cap), or at least he considers you as it. He be trying to interrupt your game but fails miserably, like many Kane’s pranks😭😭😭 Sometimes you are too focused on your game, that you dont even notice that he went for a motorcycle ride like 2 hours ago 😭 PLEASE THIS IS SO ME💀💀

#north star boys #regie macalino #azngami #darren liang #justin phan #kane ratan #oliver moy #ryan nguyen #sebastian moy #fanfic #nsb rkive #nsb #reactions #nsb x reader #gender neutral fanfic #requested #gimme a boyfriend like ryan please im begging you #crying while writing this

283 notes · View notes

godisbestfriend4evaeva · 10 months

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Gary White dreamweaver Miss A Only you Twice I can’t stop me, cheer up, dance the night away, scientist, likey Mareux The Perfect Girl N-dubz wouldn’t you Tegan & Sara bodywork Justin Beiber peaches Sting englishman in new york, shape of my heart System of a down (old school hollywood, radio, lonely day, aerials) Utada Hikaru (Tippy toes Apple & cinnamon Poppin) Wait and see First love About you Me muero Can you keep a secret Travelling Automatic I II Letters Be my last Animato On and on Sakura drops Deep river (Hotel lobby) One last kiss Simple and clean Workout Nichiyou no asa Hope Parlow Sick inside Inu yasha Shinjitsu no uta Crystal Kay Kirakuni Dumb ditty dumb Namie Amuro Crystal Castles Kept Grimes California Halifax Genesis Angel Haze Majid Jordan Something about you Shades of blue Her [place like this] Oritse Femi Omolope Styl-plus Olufunmi Dbanj Mr endowed

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Mo gbono feli feli Oliver twist Wizkid Holla at your boy Don’t dull Tease me Die Aantword [Banana brain] Rich bitch Enter the ninja Future baby Babaji? [Baby’s on fire Dis is why I’m hot Fok julle naaiers Alien Cookie thumper] In This Moment Adrenalize Oh Lord In the air tonight New Year’s Day Joker Angel eyes Gangsta Insane Clown Posse Chop chop slide Mr C the Slide Man Cha-cha slide Kali Uchis telepatia Tei Shi Bassically See me FKA Twigs Wet wipez Tw-ache Tw-ache (2 of 4) [X inc. Glass & patron Video girl Weak spot Water me Papi pacify Good to love Hours] Clean Bandit Mozart’s house [telephone banking] A + E Dust clears [Extraordinary Come over] Symphony Zara Larsson Lush life Aint my fault Wow Øfdream - Red Voids EMIKA Flashbacks (Gnothi Seauton remix) VSN7 x ∆XIUS LIИK Nimb, AoA good luck, like a cat; Girls' Generation=SNSD hoot, run devil run, genie, twinkle

Alan Walker Sing Me To Sleep (dǝǝls remix) SIDEWALKS AND SKELETONS ENTITY Kyddiekafka Obsessions Memoryrave WAVES Monomorte Erutufon Nine Inch Nails A Warm Place Professor Green Game over Remedy Jungle Good to me Maverick Sabre I need Tinie Tempah Pass out Written in the stars Labrinth Earthquake Beneath your beautiful Jessi J Do it like a dude Who’s laughing now Pricetag Birthday Massacre Looking glass Goodnight (blue) Happy birthday He says Red dress Beyond I think we’re alone now Precious hearts Video kid Stars and satellites Sleepwalking One promise RONE Bye bye McAdam Lemniscata Show me love Chivurn Faith Mysterial Going under Blackbriars Eternity Indila Danse derniere Elyose redemption Child of Aphrodite Aegean sea Lily Allen (It's not fair Smile The fear) Stromae cheese papoutai je cours bienvenue chez moi tous les memes carmen ave cesarea ta fete dodo rail de musique alors'un danse formidable Pixie Lott all about tonight Devlin+Professor Green+Example game over Eiselfunk pong Red Queen Insidious Dita V Redrum Lana Del Rey (Doin' time Venice bitch Chemtrails over the country club Kill kill Blue jeans Video game High by the beach Burning desire West coast Carmen National anthem Dark paradise I want you boy put me in a movie) Black beauty (perfect blue) Mr Hudson White lies Forever young Supernova Evanescence Lithium Bring me to life Do what you want Sweet sacrifice Everybody's fool P!NK God is a DJ Yoko kanno Rise origa Inner universe Santigold who be loving me Shiv-R Devil's night Alpha omega The third realm Kiss of the scorpion Forever Diabolic crush Behold the dreamers Grimes California Oblivion Genesis World princess Violence 4AEM We appreciate power Butterfly Kill vs maim Violence Scream Belly of the beat IDORU Delete forever Girls aloud Sound of the underground Love machine I think we’re alone now Hana So & so Creatura Chimera Men without hats safety dance Pussycat dolls Beep Buttons When I

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grow up Wait a minute Spice girls Viva forever Be my lover Sugababes Stronger Too lost in you Round round Tokio hotel Monsoon (2020 version) Hilary Duff With love Stranger Coming clean Exid DDD Elliphant Spoon me One more Only getting younger Iggy Azalea Black widow Work Team Bounce DVRST Close eyes Bring me the horizon Can you feel my heart Alexandra Stan Mr saxobeat Ecoute moi Dua lipa New rules We're good Levitating Janelle Monae Tightrope Q.U.E.E.N. Yoga Jidenna Little bit more Lenny Kravitz Fly away M-Flo Come again Toopoor Crazy girls Dorian Electra f the world Destiny's child lose my breath soldier survivor say my name nasty girl

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luxstylestylesl · 1 year

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heliads · 2 years

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Hey can you do Nikolai Lantsov x reader? They are married because of politics. She( reader) didn’t want to marry Nikolai because she was in love with other man. Now she is pregnant but they are still pretty distant and the man she was in love with arrives in palace. Nikolai gets jealous and reckless due this gets injured and the reader gets worried. They both figure out that they have feelings for each other. Hope you could understand, English isn’t my native language😅 thanks

nikolai my fave (also love that i FINALLY get a gif of this man)

masterlist

You are staring out at the grounds of Ravka’s Grand Palace, with all the world rolling out before you, and all you can think about is that you’ve never felt more alone than this. Technically, you’re surrounded by a multitude of people- royal guards at the door, servants waiting in the halls, and your husband, one room over.

Your husband.

Saints.

It’s not that you’d never pictured yourself wed. Your father is one of the strongest military men in West Ravka, you knew that at some point you’d find yourself in some sort of marriage contract. You just hadn’t imagined that this husband of yours would end up being Nikolai Lantsov, king of Ravka.

Nikolai is a good man. At least you can be assured of that. He looks out for you, makes your stay as easy as possible, and doesn’t treat you like a porcelain doll who should stay propped up in the shadows like your father had. In fact, he’s even allowed you to have your own room, although that might be less for the safety of not having to share a room than the fact that Nikolai has secrets that he’d like to keep.

Regardless of this, of everything Nikolai has done to make this feel less like a treaty and more like a mutual agreement, you still can’t convince yourself to feel anything towards him other than apathy. It’s not his fault, of course, it just so happens that you were in love with somebody long before it was announced that you would be marrying Nikolai.

You knew that there was no chance you would ever marry for love. Political power is too important to your father, he’d never give you up without getting something in return. Yet some part of you had dared to hope that there would be a future involving the one you love. It’s a shame that you’ve seen that dream crushed before your eyes, beaten to death by your own signature on a wedding certificate to another.

And this, precisely, is the problem. No matter how hard Nikolai tries to make everything perfect (and you have to hand it to him, he really does try), he won’t be your Pyotr. No one is. Sometimes, you wish you could forget everything about the life you once led, and fully embrace your future in Ravka as the queen. There is no going back, so it’s not like any amount of pining will do you any good.

However, it is rarely as easy to shut off one’s heart as you would like. So, you remain by yourself, pacing back and forth across the grounds or in your private quarters as if you could walk far enough to return to Pyotr if you tried hard enough.

There’s a knock at your door, distracting you from your reverie. You take one last moment to treasure being alone, then go to it. Nikolai waits for you on the other side, dressed in his usual olive drabs. The two of you are holding court today, and you’ll arrive together. It’s a show of power, a promise of a unified Ravka. East and West, both side by side in a perfect display.

Nikolai nods at your dress, the crisp olive detailing around the edges of your sleeves and hemlines. “So we’re matching now?”

A half smile tugs your lips up before you can stop yourself. “I hear it’s all the rage. We have to look like we’re together, right?”

He takes a half second to glance from the wedding band on your finger to the circlet on your head, one quite similar in design to the crown nestled amongst his own blond curls. “I don’t know how they’d get the idea anywhere else.”

You arch a brow. “Careful, moi tsar, we’re supposed to be doting on each other. I don’t remember snippy comebacks being a part of the royal lexicon.”

Nikolai smirks, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to your fingers. “We’ll have to rewrite it, then. Exchanging snippy comebacks happens to be one of my favorite parts of the day.”

You chuckle, and Nikolai seems rather pleased with himself. “I’m glad you find such joy in conversation. I, on the other hand, find it while holding court in the throne room, which we’re supposed to be doing right now.”

Nikolai looks as if he’s going to roll his eyes, but manages to restrain himself, starting to lead you back down the hall instead. “Ah, of course. Nothing makes my day like negotiations.”

You allow yourself a small smile. “And the petty complaints of nobles, of course. I adore that.”

Nikolai laughs. You have the sudden, fleeting thought that he has one of the nicest laughs you know. It feels as if every commander or courtier here only laughs to earn the favor of the king, always forcing a guffaw or two before diverting the conversation back to favorable topics, like lowering their taxes or giving them more land. Nikolai, however, laughs like he means it, even when it’s just at a silly joke of yours. It’s one of the things that has won you over the most.

“I couldn’t agree more. I hope that means that you’ll be willing to take my place in some of these estate disputes, seeing as you’re so enamored of them-”

You cut him off hastily. “Oh, I couldn’t steal that from you. They’re just such a delight, you know? I would never want to deprive you of that experience.”

Nikolai’s eyes twinkle. “I appreciate your generosity, moya tsaritsa.”

He looks as if he wants to say more, perhaps continue on the battle of wits, but the two of you have arrived at the great double doors to the throne room and you have to stop for now. Nikolai straightens his shoulders, calling on the facade of a confident king like it’s a mantle to be placed around him. You do the same as best you can, although it never seems to come as easily to you as it does your blond consort. To be fair, though, he has had considerably more time to get it right.

The morning passes in a haze of discussions and resolutions. Contrary to popular belief, most of a monarch’s time is spent arguing fruitlessly with the most obstinate nobles you’ve ever met. After a few hours of it, you’re ready for a break.

Perhaps Nikolai can see it, or perhaps he’s just exhausted too, because after one particularly long debate, he claps his hands together. “I believe we have some new arrivals to the palace. I have appointed new diplomats to the Wandering Isles and Novyi Zem, and I’ve called them here to speak with them before they go.”

You nod, leaning over to whisper to Nikolai so no one can hear. “Remind me of their names again?”

Nikolai whispers back in a voice just loud enough to carry between the two of you. “Dmitri Seitz, Miljan Petrov, Liliya Klima, and Pyotr Soloviev.”

Your heart stops beating just as the group of diplomats enters the throne room. It cannot be. Yet in the back of the group, you see Pyotr. Your Pyotr. His eyes flash up to yours, and for a moment you swear that the entire room tunnels until it’s just the two of you looking at each other.

Then Nikolai calmly lays a hand on your arm, and you’re forced back to reality. “Is everything alright, Y/N? It’s been a long morning. I can handle the diplomats if you want to go back to your chambers.”

You shake your head distractedly. “No, I’m fine.”

Nikolai looks at you a second too long, as if he doesn’t quite believe you, but the diplomats have already been announced to the room and he has to continue. He gives quite a nice little speech about the importance of their mission and how grateful Ravka is for the diplomats’ support before rising from his throne to greet the diplomats personally, without the shelter of the kingship to keep them apart.

You stand as well, crossing the room at Nikolai’s side. You shake hands with the others until you reach Pyotr, and then you just stand still, looking at him. It’s been scarcely a few months since you left home, but he already seems so different. His eyes rove your face as if he’s seeing someone he’s long given up on finding again.

“Y/N.”

The name is scarcely a breath on his lips, but you want to hear it again and again.

“I missed you, Pyotr. I-”

The words dry up on your tongue. You didn’t know he would be here, but Saints, you’re so glad he’s with you again. There are a thousand things you want to say, everything that didn’t fit in your letters, but you can already feel the suspicious eyes of the court upon you. Everyone from servants to generals wants something on the queen, and lingering too long with any one man when you’re already married is like sealing your future away in a haze of judgment.

So, you force yourself to smile and move on. You promise yourself that you’ll find him again, anything to keep yourself from running back to Pyotr. The diplomats will be in the palace for a few weeks before leaving for their respective posts, long enough to receive training on what information they should be finding out and which talking points they should definitely avoid.

You were hoping that you were able to act normally, but once you and Nikolai are away from the throne rooms and back in the relative security of a private sitting room, he turns to you with concern in his eyes.

“Has something gone wrong? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

You look up with a guilty start at his words. “Do I look that uneasy? I was hoping no one would notice.”

Nikolai shakes his head to clear up your doubt. “No, I don’t think anyone noticed but me. What is it, then?”

You don’t trust yourself to speak at first, but stand, walking across the room to distract yourself with the fire blazing in a wrought iron hearth. “I told you that I loved somebody before I married you. I didn’t think I would ever see him again, but he’s here. He’s one of the diplomats.”

When you dare to look over at Nikolai again, he looks as if you’ve betrayed him at gunpoint, all widened eyes and dawning realizations. You can’t blame him for his surprise- you never told Nikolai the name of your lover. No matter how much you trust him, secrets have a way of being spilled, and you knew the only way to keep Pyotr truly safe would be to keep him in the sacred walls of your heart and your heart alone.

Nikolai swallows harshly. “Alright. So he’s here now, in the palace.”

You find yourself almost afraid of what he’s going to say next. “What does that mean for you?”

Nikolai runs a shaky hand through his hair, mussing up his curls. It might be the one time you’ve seen him as anything other than in a perfectly manicured state of mind and body. “Well, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to think. I knew we weren’t married for anything other than politics, but knowing that the man you truly love is here within the walls of his palace does put a damper on things.”

You wince. “I know that, but I’m still dedicated to this marriage. I’m not going to do anything that would cause either of us pain.”

Nikolai grimaces. “I am, of course, grateful to hear that, but no offense, it isn’t a great guarantee. If anyone in this palace were to have even an inkling that you once loved this man, the rumors would be atrocious. They could lie about all sorts of things, Y/N, imply that you’re an adulteress or that you’re slipping him national secrets. I can’t have that sort of talk even remotely connected to you. It would destroy both of us.”

You nod slowly. “I won’t speak to him unless absolutely necessary. It’ll be as if I never knew him at all.”

Looking at Nikolai, though, you’re not sure that either of you believe it.

It is hard, knowing that your Pyotr is within walking distance and you can’t see him at all. You speak to him at diplomatic functions, but always make sure to spend the same amount of time with him as anyone else. He understands, you’re sure of that, but something about looking up from a conversation with Pyotr to see Nikolai’s gaze burning a brand into your back makes you feel as if you’re committing a crime.

Nikolai. Something about learning about what Pyotr means to you seems to have driven a white-hot poker under his skin. He seems far faster to a temper than you’ve ever seen him, and he walks around the palace as if hoping for something to cross him. He’s never angry with you, not once, but he seems on the edge of furious with just about everyone else.

When the opportunity comes up for Nikolai and a group of other First and Second Army soldiers to investigate a supposed Fjerdan military presence a few miles in from the Ravkan border, you’re almost grateful for it. Having the time to get outside the walls of the city, to run about and potentially fight someone, will give Nikolai a chance to clear his head. When he comes back, he’ll be better. You’re sure of it.

The mission is only supposed to take a few days, so you continue on ruling in his absence. The funny thing is, despite the fact that you know full well Nikolai isn’t there, you keep looking for him, glancing over your shoulder to talk to him even though you’re only greeted with the sight of an empty room. Multiple times, you think of the perfect sly retort, but the too-clever fox is gone and has no ears to hear you by. Every time, you swallow back that part of yourself, reverted back into a silence that somehow hurts more than anything you’ve felt before.

When three days have passed and you see a few of the soldiers from Nikolai’s mission striding towards you in the hall, you’re grateful for it. Finally, he’s back. You have much to speak about. However, their steps are rushed and harried, and their eyes are filled with panic.

You frown when they reach you. “What’s the matter?”

Only one of them seems able to speak, the other forced to simply shake his head over and over. “There was a skirmish, bigger than we thought. The King saved our lives, but-”

The soldier pauses for a moment to catch her breath, and you feel your insides slowly turn to ice. “But what? What happened?”

She twists her hands slightly, then continues. “He was shot multiple times. We brought him back so the Healers can do their work, but it’s a difficult situation. No one else knows.”

You know what this means without her having to explain. No one can know that the Ravkan king is being treated for serious injuries, because Fjerda and Shu Han would pounce before you even got the chance to make it over to Nikolai’s side.

So, you just nod, and force your expression to remain neutral. “Take me to him. Now.”

Your head is swimming the entire walk over. In all this time, you’ve never had to even think about being separated from Nikolai for longer than a week or two at most. Knowing that he’s hurt, that there are Grisha Corporalki huddling over his body to keep him alive, seems almost impossible.

You’re led to the door of the Healer’s room and told to wait for a few moments until the Healers are ready to receive another person. In this moment, listening to the sounds of frenzied activity and knowing that it’s all to do with Nikolai bleeding out, you realize something. You cannot survive this if Nikolai does not live. This is a loss that you cannot take.

You thought you knew what missing someone was like when you first left Pyotr, but this is worse. You know what it’s like to live without Pyotr, you do it everyday, but you cannot be without Nikolai. You know this as surely as you know your own heartbeat, as confident as the stride of your own two feet. You cannot return to a world without your husband beside you.

When the Healers open the door, you practically fly to his side. Nikolai looks pale, but the Healers are straightening up, wiping the blood off of their hands and telling you that he’ll be alright. You manage to ask them for a moment alone, and barely hear the door close behind him.

All you can think about is Nikolai, lying there in front of you. Your hands are clasped around his; you’re not sure when that happened, but you don’t know that you have the strength to remove them. Slowly, painfully slowly, he opens his eyes.

“No need to look so worried, love. I’m alright.”

You let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know if I could stop worrying if I tried. I thought I was going to lose you, Nikolai.”

He smiles, his mouth a bright slash against his skin. “It’s very sweet for you to care about me.”

You smile in return, although it’s hard. “I do more than just care about you.”

His eyes spark with something that almost looks like hope. “I’m going to need you to say what’s on your mind, Y/N. I think we both need to hear it.”

You laugh without meaning to do so. It keeps happening around Nikolai, doesn’t it? “I care about you, I love you, and I need you to stop bleeding out when I can’t do anything about it. It’s not good for my stress levels.”

Nikolai’s eyes flicker shut as he grins. “I love you too, moya tsaritsa. And although I hate to contribute to your stress levels, hearing you say that you love me is doing excellent things for my wounds.”

You swat him gently on the shoulder, and when he opens his mouth to complain, you kiss it shut. His smirk when you finally break free is glorious. “I think that helps with the healing process the most, actually. You should probably do it again, just to be sure.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Just to be sure, huh?”

He’s joking, you know that, but you can’t resist kissing him again anyway. You are happy, your husband is safe, and you’ve got the rest of the world waiting in the wings. You can afford to kiss him as many times as you want.

grishaverse tag list: @rogueanschel, @deadreaderssociety, @cameronsails, @aleksanderwh0r3, @story-scribbler, @lxncelot, @thatfangirl42

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