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the-littlest-goblin · 3 years

Note

ooooooooh for fic prompts, could i request: essek interacting with Frumpkin, specifically playing with him (so as to impress Caleb and earn his favor a bit), but our favorite hot boi most likely did not have pets growing up and is at a bit of a loss with what to do. (bonus: Caleb sees this and thinks it's incredibly endearing)

I think you got everything you wanted. ft. my personal 'here’s how Frumpkin can still win’ headcanon.

----

This was not how familiars were supposed to work.

Essek may not have summoned one before (he’d never really understood the use of an assistant with no opposable thumbs), but he had read enough about the spell to know that this was not how familiars were supposed to behave.

Maybe that was because Frumpkin didn’t technically count as a familiar anymore.

No one knew exactly what had happened, or why. Essek and Caleb had exchanged a number of theories on the matter, but so far the best explanation still went to Beau’s conclusion: “weird fey shit.”

After Aeor and the Somnovem, when they had all finally gotten a chance to breathe again, Caleb had done some sort of ritual to more permanently banish his familiar. Essek hadn’t gotten the full context at the time, but it had something to do with symbolic closure and moving on. The cat was already gone from the Material Plane at that point, but Caleb had wanted to remove the temptation to summon him again, and so devised a sort of reversal of the Find Familiar spell.

However, upon performing the anti-summoning ritual, the cat had appeared in the ritual circle as if Caleb had cast the spell as usual. Only instead of going to his master’s side, Frumpkin had sauntered away from Caleb with a swish of his tail and gone to sit directly at Essek’s feet.

“Hmm,” Caleb had muttered, the hint of a grin twitching at the corner of his mouth. “It looks like he has made a choice.”

Ever since, Caleb had been unable to banish Frumpkin, or communicate with him, or give him orders. He had seemingly lost his magical connection to, and mastery over, the cat—Frumpkin was no longer his familiar, as had been the intention. It was just that Frumpkin apparently liked the Material Plane better than the Feywild, and so refused to leave. And since Caleb had let him go, he chose a new wizard to keep him company. For the next several days they had spent recuperating and planning their next moves, Frumpkin stuck with Essek, never straying from his side for long.

But, crucially, he did not become Essek’s familiar, a lesson they had learned quickly enough. Essek didn’t even have Find Familiar in his spellbook. He couldn’t banish Frumpkin, he couldn’t communicate telepathically with him, and he certainly couldn’t give him orders.

So, Essek just had a pet cat now, one which happened to be fey in nature. Stranger things had happened—much, much stranger—so for Essek’s part, it had seemed easiest to just accept this development in stride. At times, he was even grateful for the cat’s presence.

But right now, he was very much not. At least familiars were obedient.

Essek winced against the sound of shattering glass—a sound which was becoming somewhat routine since taking up residence in these new, temporary lodgings with Frumpkin as his roommate.

Essek closed his eyes and took one deep breath before looking up from his notes to survey the damage. His gaze met Frumpkin’s round, amber eyes across the room, looking impossibly innocent where he sat primly on one of the tables which Essek had set up to house his research. His tail swished back and forth where it hung over the edge, acting like a flashing signal to point Essek’s attention down towards the starburst of broken glass glittering directly beneath him.

Mercifully, the beaker which Frumpkin had marked for termination had been holding a harmless and easily replaceable solvent, rather than any of the more valuable or dangerous liquids Essek had lying around in his provisional lab. His fingers curled protectively around the precious vial of liquid dunamis sitting next to him.

“Why?” He let the single syllable of the word stretch out into a long, bone-deep groan lasting several seconds. The question was aimed both at Frumpkin and at himself, and covered a variety of curiosities he had about the situation. Why did Frumpkin feel such a persistent desire to destroy Essek’s belongings? Why had he chosen to adhere himself to Essek in the first place, when he seemed to hold a deep disdain for everything Essek owned or did? Why was Essek incapable of learning the very simple lesson of locking the door to this makeshift lab? Why had he promised Caleb that he would take care of Frumpkin while the Mighty Nein dealt with the Assembly, instead of throwing the mangy beast out onto the streets of Port Dumali as soon as they had arrived at the safe house?

None of these were questions to which Essek was about to get any answers, so he tried another one.

“What do you want from me?”

Frumpkin blinked.

“You are still a fey being. You don’t need food or water, and as far as I understand, providing those two things are the pillars of caring for a pet. So, what else could you possibly need that requires my attention?”

Frumpkin flicked his ears.

Caleb had given Essek a brief overview of what to expect in terms of cat-care, but either he had chosen to leave out a lot of unsavory details, or decoupling from their arcane connection had put Frumpkin through a drastic personality change, because Essek had received no instructions about how to handle the kind of stalemate in which he currently found himself.

“You have my sincerest apologies, but unlike your previous master, I cannot read your thoughts, and your current methods of communication are lacking in clarity.”

Frumpkin’s tail began swishing faster. He broke eye contact with Essek to gaze intently at the row of jars lining the next table over. These were full of various concoctions, including some potentially dangerous acids, the results of Essek’s increasing boredom as he stayed hunkered down in his safe house day after day. He only ever went out for the duration of a Disguise Self to buy food or other necessary supplies; he was too noticeable to amble around the city for leisure, on the slim but ever-present risk that word of a strange drow in Port Dumali would reach the ears of Ikithon or his servants. Essek was under strict instructions to stay as hidden as possible until he got the all-clear from the Mighty Nein. With only the materials to continue his most basic experiments with dunamis, he was growing bored out of his mind.

Essek heaved another deep sigh before reluctantly abandoning his notes and gliding over to where Frumpkin had stationed himself. With a short wave of his hands, the spill vanished and the broken shards of glass floated gently into the trash bin. Then, Essek unceremoniously lifted the cat into his arms before he had the chance to wreak any more havoc, and deposited him outside the door.

Distraction removed, Essek made to turn around and return to his research, this time intending to lock the door to prevent further feline interruptions. But before he could do so, he made the mistake of looking into Frumpkin’s eyes again. The cat’s pupils gleamed, impossibly wide and round, and his tail was still swishing back and forth in an incomprehensible pattern, like some sort of code. A mixture of affection and guilt welled up in Essek, rooting to the spot.

Godsdammit, but he had promised Caleb he was going to take care of his cat, and that meant not ignoring Frumpkin when he was clearly trying to tell him something. Because even if Caleb no longer wanted a familiar to travel around with him, he still loved this damned cat, and also Essek was trying to be less callous and heartless in general.

He thought back to Caleb’s instructions with a fair bit of desperation, searching for some hint of what would make Frumpkin happy. All he came up with was a faint recollection, something about enjoying being scratched behind the ears.

“Is that all you want? Is that what you interrupted me for?” Fighting not to roll his eyes, Essek reached down for a pet.

As soon as he got close enough, Frumpkin lunged.

“Gah!” Essek snatched his hand back, nursing the sting of pain from Frumpkin’s bite. There was no blood; the little demons’s fangs hadn’t managed to break the skin. It could barely count as an injury, but the shock of betrayal hurt more than the scratch.

“What in the Nine Hells was that for?” Essek glared at Frumpkin, then noticed just in time that the cat was poised to strike again. This time, he only had to turn slightly to keep his hands out of harm's way, but Frumpkin wasn’t aiming for the exposed skin. There was a loose thread dangling from the hem of Essek’s sleeve, apparently caught by the previous attack. Frumpkin was intent on it. He flung himself at the thread, grabbing at it with his clumsy paws. It slipped through his grip, and he lunged again without hesitation.

Experimentally, Essek lifted his arm so the thread dangled higher off the ground. Frumpkin took the challenge to heart, leaping to grab it in his teeth before it slipped out of his grasp again, and he landed on the floor in defeat. Essek moved his arm over to one side, and Frumpkin followed with enthusiasm, this time managing to get the thread around one claw. The split second of resistance was enough to tear it from Essek’s sleeve. Frumpkin rolled over onto his back, victorious, batting his prize around in euphoric glee.

A grin spread across Essek’s face as he watched this display of simple delight.

“I suppose you were just bored, too. Was that it?”

Frumpkin responded by biting the string with a vengeance.

An idea began forming in the corner of his mind as he watched Frumpkin playing. Absentmindedly, Essek twisted his fingers and summoned a trace thread of dunamis into his hand, shaping and stretching it into a longer and longer cord of greyish, glowing energy, which he then dangled tantalizingly over Frumpkin’s head. The boring, non-magical string was immediately forgotten and discarded as Frumpkin caught sight of the dunamis toy. His whole body wiggling in excitement, he lunged at the cord again and again, pulling a genuine laugh out of Essek as he bobbed and weaved the magic around, dancing it out of Frumpkin’s grasp. He needed a break from his lab anyway, and this was shockingly entertaining.

---

“Well? How are they?” Just a hint of nerves colored Caleb’s voice, as it did every time they checked in on Essek. The fear that this time, the scry would reveal him not safe and sound on the Coast, far from the Trent’s reach, but somewhere cold and dark and threatening.

The faint glow faded from Jester’s eyes as the spell ended. Looking up at Caleb with a smile, she said, “You’re not going to believe this Caleb, it’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.”

Caleb grinned back at her.

#critrole #critical role #my writing #fic prompts #the pedant in me needs to point out that Essek would definitely be wearing his anti-scrying necklace but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#Anonymous

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rhysismydaddy · 3 years

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Casual Ruin Pt. 5 (Elriel)

Elain's part of the Damnation series.

Last part! I know I said this would be 6/7 parts, but I realized I have no idea what the fuck I had planned to write in those parts, so it's 5 instead hahah. didn't edit the ending whoops

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

__________________________________________

~Elain~

It's three in the morning when I hear it.

We're laying in bed, and even though I should asleep like the man next to me, I can't stop thinking about how little time we have left.

How has the past month gone by so fast?

It feels like yesterday I was standing on my stoop, watching Azriel open up and tell me things he's since admitted he's never told another person.

It feels like yesterday since I decided that I care for him more than I care about what he does.

But it wasn't yesterday; it was a month ago.

A month that's been filled with dinner dates, soft smiles, laughter, and enough tender moments my heart feels full. He's a

The plane ticket hidden in the bottom of my purse is a constant reminder that this is just a summer fling, that it isn't supposed to mean anything. Two weeks from now, I'm supposed to get on that flight and never look back.

Except it feels impossible.

It broke my heart when I walked away from him a month ago, and that was before he told me the details of his life.

Now I know him.

I know about the way he smiles in the morning and how he shakes his head when he laughs, like he can't believe he's doing so. I've learned how ticklish his ribs are, how he likes his coffee, his favorite type of cigarettes.

I know about his family, how his mother died giving birth to him and his father resented him from the day it happened. I know about the first man he killed, how it made him sick. I know what his tattoos really mean.

And what I never could've expected is that everything I've learned, the good and the bad, have tied me to him in a way that feels permanent.

How am I supposed to just walk away from that?

The thought of never seeing his smile, never feeling his rough hands cup my face with a gentleness he doesn't show the world... it feels like missing a part of me.

And it worries me enough I haven't been able to sleep for the past two nights. Like I'm incapable of wasting a minute, I spend the nights watching him sleep.

Which is why I'm perfectly awake when he pulls me close in his sleep and whispers two words that ruin me.

Ti amo.

Tears well in my eyes as I stay perfectly still, replaying the moment over and over.

He loves me.

It's something I knew--something we both probably knew--ever since that day in the rain, but I think we both never said it because we knew our time is limited.

It's been in every touch, every kiss, every moment where we get caught up just staring at each other.

But I want to tell him, I have to tell him, because however good it makes me feel to hear that from him... I know he needs it more.

He's never been loved--never been anyone's first choice, but he's mine, and I want him to know. And I don't want to be just one more person that leaves him and makes him wondering if he'll ever be enough.

So I start to plan.

~A week later, Azriel~

Well, the worst has happened.

I love the fucking woman.

Now my biggest weakness now walks outside my body, with soft brown eyes and dirty blonde hair and bright smiles that light up the world.

And she's leaving in a week.

It scares the shit out of me.

She scares the shit out of me.

Honestly, I hadn't even realized I was in so deep until she said the words "We're done."

All I remember about that day is feeling I'd been stabbed in the chest and looking down to find the blade but not seeing anything but my own hands.

One moment I was convinced I was dying, the next I was in front of her on her stoop, telling her shit I've never told a living soul.

It wasn't then that I realized I love her, but that was when I realized something maybe even more important. I trust her.

Rule 3's been thrown out the window, and I don't even remember when it happened. Was it when she told me I'm not a monster? Or the first time I noticed the way her lips turn up every time I tell her she's beautiful?

Or maybe it was the first time I laid eyes on her as she stumbled into that opera booth, looking like everything I never knew I wanted.

Either way, I'm about a mile up shit's creek with no fucking paddle.

I trust her, love her, and I've only known her ten weeks. Which reminds me, she's leaving.

Which is irritating, because while the mere thought of watching her leave makes me want to level a building, she's currently acting like nothing's wrong.

She's in the bathroom, putting on red lipstick in a slow, taunting way that makes me want to mess it up. I'm sitting in the chair next to my bed, trying to stay calm.

She's watching me watch her in the mirror, and her eyes meet mine for a split second before she looks away, making me suspicious.

That look... I've seen that look before, more times than I can count.

But never from her.

It's a secret.

She looks like she's hiding something.

"Something you need to tell me?" I ask, putting a hand behind my head to prop it up.

Nodding, she comes to stand at the foot of the bed. "Yep."

I raise a brow. "What is it?"

"I'll tell you tonight if you meet me for dinner."

Suspicion and curiosity make me ask, "Where?"

"La Rosa," she responds casually, making me narrow my eyes. It's outside of the city a bit, a small place on the coast I've never had an interest in owning or visiting.

"I've never been there."

"New experiences are good for the soul," she quips, sliding on her sandals. "Just say you'll meet me."

There's a hint of nerves in her voice, so I say, "Of course, dolce mia."

She smiles, victorious. Then she's bounding over, taking my face between her palms, and pressing her mouth to mine.

Before I can ask what she's up to, she's out the door, calling over her shoulder, "Seven o'clock! I'll meet you there."

I get up and slide my jacket on, slipping my hand in the pocket and toying with the piece of metal I've been carrying around for a month.

Sighing, I take it out and throw it on the counter, knowing that if this life has taught me one thing, it's that it won't make a difference.

When seven o'clock rolls around, I'm seated at a table, frowning at my surroundings.

I've definitely never been here.

No man has, I'm willing to bet. At least not on his own volition.

There are flowers everywhere. Spilling out of vases, growing on the vines surrounding the open windows, lining the doors that are open to the patio out back.

Besides that, I guess the place isn't too bad, actually. The lights are soft, the weather's nice, and by the smells coming from tables around me, the food will be good.

Elain's running a few minutes late, but she called and told me to go ahead and order.

Apparently, she's come here before, because she told me what to order her. Odd.

A few minutes after I relay the information to the waitress, I spot her coming in the front door and wave her over.

She's a little flushed, her eyes are bright, and the smile on her face gives no doubt she's excited.

I stand up when she reaches me, kiss her, then ask, "What's going on?"

"Nothing," she says too quickly. "Did you order?"

"Yeah. Have you been here before or something?"

She nods, diverting her eyes down and to the right in the classic tell of a lie.

I sigh, frustration getting the better of me. "Elain, what are you hiding from me?"

Before she can answer, the food comes. Two plates of pasta are set in front of us, and I know instantly I was right about the food being good.

But no matter how good it looks, there's only one thing on my mind.

"Elain."

She waves a hand. "Just eat, Azriel. I promise I'll tell you in like five minutes."

"Why not just tell me now?"

"It's more dramatic this way," she explains, making me sigh again.

Women.

She's going to give me a fucking heart attack with her drama.

A little aggressively, I stab the fork in the pasta, taking a huge bite.

I feel her eyes on me, watching me eat, but I act like I don't notice, mentally counting down the seconds until five minutes is up.

I'm at 263 when she asks, "Do you like it?"

"What?"

Rolling her eyes, she gestures to the plate in front of me. "Do you like it?"

"It's good," I reply honestly, a little surprised. I've lived here long enough to know the best places to eat, and I've never heard more than a decent review about this place.

"I'm glad," she says, full lips tilting up. "Since I made it."

I don't get it. Did she bring it with her? Is that why she was late?

Also, why did we come to a restaurant if she was going to cook?

"What? Why?"

She tilts her head, smile growing.

Right as my still-counting subconscious gets to five minutes, she explains, "Because I work here."

~Elain~

He stares at me, bite of pasta halfway between his mouth and the plate.

I've been almost bursting at the seems the past four days trying to keep the secret.

I mean, given what the man does for a living, I didn't think I'd make it more than an hour. And while he's definitely been suspicious, I made it.

"What?" he finally asks, dark brows furrowing as he leans in.

"I have a lot to say," I tell him. "So don't interrupt me."

His eyes narrow like they always do when I tell him what to do, but I ignore it and start listing off the different secrets I've been keeping.

I start with the most important.

"First, I love you."

The fork clangs against the plate as he drops it.

I smile, biting my lip and trying not to cry at the look on his face.

"I think I have since that first night when we danced in the bar. Or maybe when you took me to the beach. I don't know." Taking a deep breath, I say, "I tried to stop, when I found out... everything. But it was useless, because I was as in love with you then as I am now."

He shakes his head, almost like he's panicked, but I keep going.

"I love you, Azriel. I want to be with you more than I've ever wanted anything. And I can't bear the thought of leaving you. I don't want to."

Gesturing around us, I say, "I got a job here, and my landlord said she can draw up a lease. And before you say anything, I'm not giving anything up. The past months have felt like paradise, and I love it here. I liked my job in New York, but it wasn't anything I'll miss."

His eyes are so wide, it'd be a little funny if I wasn't so serious.

I take a sip of wine and try to puta brave face on. A lump forms in my throat, but I manage to say, "But we never talked about anything long term, so if this isn't what you want... I'll go. I promise. I just wanted you to know that you're... it for me. You're everything to me. I choose you."

He shudders, closing his eyes, and I take in how tight his jaw is, how close he seems to coming unraveled.

Is he freaking out? I definitely am.

After a few moments, I realize he's still waiting on me, so I laugh and say, "You can talk now."

He doesn't.

He just opens his eyes and stares at me, the shock in his gaze clear to read.

Nerves blossom. I was so sure he'd be happy, but maybe he isn't ready. Voice turning shaky, I ask, "Is this what you want?"

Slowly, he shakes his head, but before I can panic, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a key, holding it out between us. "I want you to live with me, not at the townhouse."

All the nerves fly out the door, and I laugh, not quite able to believe it.

How long has he been carrying this around?

The tears finally spilling over as I take the key from him. "Okay."

He brushes my cheeks off with his thumb, looking at me like he's never seen anything more beautiful.

Azriel's quiet for a moment, and I give him time, knowing that whatever he wants to say is hard for him.

"Ti amo. Mi spaventa così tanto."

I love you. So much is scares me.

"You? Scared? I don't believe it."

I'm trying to joke and lighten the mood, but he's completely serious as he shakes his head, cupping my jaw with his hand. "You scare the shit out of me, Elain."

My heart clenches, and I fight a fresh wave of tears as I lean into his touch. "You scare me, too."

"But you're not leaving."

It's said like a hopeful promise, like something he needs to hear again and again to accept it's true.

I shake my head. "I'm not leaving," I whisper.

He finally smiles, that big smile I'm positive he only gives me, and leans over the table to kiss me softly. "Say it again."

"I love you."

He kisses me again, and I slide my hands in his hair and kiss him back, feeling like everything before now has led up to this. He's the grand finale, the one I didn't know I was waiting for.

I pull back a little, just far enough to see his reaction as I whisper, "Meet me in the bathroom."

His eyes flare and his mouth drops open, and I laugh as I get up from my seat and try to walk nonchalantly towards the back.

This hadn't been part of the plan, but I've told him I love him, and now... I want to prove it.

Plus, I don't know what it is about him, but he feeds the adventurous side of me like nothing else.

I can feel him watching me from the table as I make my way across the restaurant.

Thankfully, the place is busy tonight, so I don't think anyone notices when, as soon as I shut the bathroom door, he rises to follow me.

A moment later, he slips in with me, taking in the dim lights, closed stall, low music. He flips the lock, and it's like it snaps the thread between us, descending us into chaos.

He's on me in a second, arms wrapping around me and lifting me. My legs bracket his hips as he pushes me up against the wall and traps my hands above my head.

"Say it again," he demands breathlessly, eyes bright and full of heat.

I nip his lower lip, then kiss it softly. "I love you, Azriel."

His mouth crashes into mine, unrestrained and demanding and deep enough I lose myself in him.

My hands are in his hair, his are pushing up the hem of my dress.

There's a brief moment of adjusting, and then he's easing into me. His eyes are on me, his lips are parted, and as I tighten around him, he makes a deep rumbling sound. It's the hottest thing I've ever seen.

"You're mine," I tell him, tilting my hips to take him deeper. "And I'm yours."

He shudders, eyes going black. "You're mine."

His hips claim mine, then, pulling out and thrusting back in, moving me up the wall. I tighten my fingers in his hair as he hits a spot deep inside me, and he groans.

Moving his hands to my hips, he brings me down as he thrusts up, and I moan, then slap a hand over my mouth.

I work here, for God's sake.

"This is not very professional," I mutter, smiling when his lips twitch.

"No," he agrees, thrusting into me harder. "And it's definitely inappropriate."

I clamp my lips together, pressing my hand to my mouth again to stifle the involuntary whimper I let out.

Azriel grins, tugging on my earlobe with his teeth and whispering, "You might need to go to confessional again."

Rolling my eyes, I move my hands to his shoulders, then lean in to lick up the column of his neck. "Between the two of us, I'd say you're more likely to end up on your knees tonight."

He laughs, tugging my head back to kiss me again. His tongue meets mine in a wet, deep slide that makes me shiver. His hips brush mine. His hands hold me just right, keeping me against him.

Pulling back, he brushes his lips over mine and whispers, "I love you."

The easy, conversational pace is abandoned, and we're moving harder against each other, the only sounds our labored breathing and muffled moans.

He brings a hand to cover my mouth, and I cover his with mine, and we're in tandem, both of us lost in the other.

He comes when I do, driving deeply into me and stilling, his head buried in my neck.

We spend a while like that, and when I eventually slide down the wall, we take our time adjusting our clothes. He keeps stopping me to kiss my shoulder or brow, and I waste too much time just looking at him.

When we're both ready, he extends a hand and grins. "Let's go home."

I smile, unable to help it. "Let's go home."

_____________________________________________

Thank you for reading! This is the last part, although I might do an epilogue one day (don't hold your breath lol).

Send me asks if you have em :)

@elorcan-trash @sweetdaisybell @anyblinding @acreativelydifferentlove @loosingdreams @poisonous00 @januarystears @emikadreams @swankii-art-teacher @thedarkdemigod @full-tilt-diva @biggestwingspan-az @bookstantrash @mari-highladyof-feels @pilesofriles @bamchickawowow @teddytdr @perseusannabeth @shinya-hiiragi @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @live-the-fangirl-life @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @autophobiax @rowaelinismyotp @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2 @lovemollywho @inardour @tillyrubes10 @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @awesomelena555 @booksofthemoon @greerlunna @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

#elriel #elriel fanfiction #acomaf #acowar #acotar #acomaf fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #elain archeron #elain x azriel #azriel #a court of thorns and roses

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baroquebucky · 3 years

Text

house plants

in which bucky has a green thumb and you don’t, but god do you love plants.

masterlist

a/n: hi guys 0.0 sorry for like dying on y’all, college was ROUGH but I’m on break now !! so I’ll try to be more active hehe i hope you guys enjoy! I’m getting they some requests and I’ll post them later i just rlly wanted to get dis one out there hehe also this was way longer than i expected it to be uhm

you smiled at the small succulent in the passenger seat, “okay, i may have gotten you on a whim, but i will not let you die on me, you will be my new daughter” you nodded your head confidently as you grabbed the other groceries, balancing a small succulent in one hand.

“Buck? I’m home!” You stated, hurrying to set everything down and softly plancing the plant on the counter. You smiled brightly at it before turning on your heel to find Bucky.

“I’ll help in a bit i just need to find something” he spoke, you headed toward the room, finding him looking around helplessly, “what are you looking for?” You questioned, sitting on the bed and laughing as he tore apart the room.

“i remembered i had this t shirt i really liked and now i can’t find it anywhere, i looked through all my cabinets and it’s nowhere in sight” he huffed and you smiled.

“did you check my closet?” you quipped and he furrowed his brows, mumbling as he looked through your shirts before pulling out a black long sleeve, he smiled as he held it close to his chest.

“how did you even get this? You didn’t go through my drawers did you?” he worried, something flashing in his eyes, but it was gone before you could notice. He quickly grabbed it and put it on, kissing you on the cheek as he walked out the door, “no i didn’t and plus you barely used it so i stole it” you shrugged.

“okay now that you have your shirt, you are legally not allowed to be mad at me” you began, running infront of him and blocking the plant from his view.

“y/n, doll please tell me you didn’t get a cat” he sighed and you shook your head, “no, however i was thinking about it” you mentioned, a smile on your face as he rolled his eyes at you.

“i present to you, our new child!” you cheered, presenting the succulent and shoving it into his face. Bucky furrowed his brows and processed the information, the small green plant staring him right in the face. “It was on sale at the grocery store and i thought why not give house plants another shot! It’s not like we’re out doing much nowadays” you smiled, patting the plant gently before setting it down once again and going to fix the other groceries.

“y/n last time you gave house plants a shot you killed all six of them” he sighed and you threw a roll of paper towels at him, of course he caught it and threw it back, effectively hitting you on the back of the head.

“things are different now, maybe i have a green thumb this year” you smiled, happily putting everything away and setting the plant by the window.

Bucky saw the joy in your eyes as you watched the small plant grow, you even texted the whole team about the new member of the barnes and y/l/l household. You had spent hours at a time researching the best ways to grow and care for succulents and yet, one week later bucky noticed the small plant (which you had dubbed ‘Brenda’) had began to wilt.

He stared at brenda, debatin on letting her just die and prove a point that gardening was not your strong suit, but then he thought about how crushed you would be, coming home and finding the dead succulent. He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed, watering the plant and going out the buy some things to help it get more nutrients.

Within days Brenda was healthier than ever, growing rapidly and a beautiful dark green color. You quickly noticed and teased Bucky for not believing in you.

“I told you! she is so beautiful look at her! they grow up so fast don’t they” you wiped a fake tear and Bucky laughed rolling his eyes and focusing back on the show the two of you were watching. “I think it’s time for the next step” you smiled, his eyes widened as you finished your sentence, “another plant!”

So weeks passed and within a couple months you had all kinds of house plants, every windowsill covered with green and even some hanging from the ceiling, vines wrapping around lamps and even flowers in the patio, you even got bold and bought an orchid (which was doing amazing you may add).

While you watered them regularly, Bucky had to go above and beyond to care for the absurd amount of plants you now had. He would water them individually (by now he knew how much water each plant needed and what days to water them) and even added fertilizer to their soil, buying all kinds of things to keep them healthy and to stop them from wilting. Your most recent purchase, olive the orchid, had been the toughest to care for yet. Bucky had to watch tons of videos on orchid care to stop it from dying within the fire few days.

It took him a while to go through his routine while you were at work, you never caught wind of his meddling and you continued to believe that you had the greenest thumb in the world, Bucky happily going along with it, he couldn’t bare to see your soul crushed if you realized they would’ve died had they been in your care.

You and Bucky were laying in bed watching a movie when he got a phone call from Sam, telling him they had a mission, Bucky was both suprised and nervous considering there had been almost nothing going on lately and he would have the leave all the plants alone with you.

“I can always tell Sam i can’t go you know that doll” Bucky protested as the night progressed, you sighed and curled more into his side, pulling the blanket into you more, “I’ll be fine James, and plus i have all of our plants to keep me company” you smiled brightly and he felt his heart swell.

He wanted nothing more then to tell Sam to shove it so he can stay home and care for all your plants to keep that adorable smile on your face, but of course he couldn’t.

“I’m gonna be gone two weeks are you sure you can handle it?” Bucky asked once again, one foot out the door before turning around again, “yes bucky i know where everything for the plants is, plus I’ve kept them looking good for this long, two weeks is nothing” you smirked, punching his shoulder as he smiled at you.

He chuckled softly and nodded his head, kissing your forehead and saying goodbye, he also said goodbye to all the plants, knowing they would be gone by the time he came back. He did however have a shred of hope that they would be able to hold on just until he got back, to nurse them back to health.

You closed the door and sighed, the house feeling empty without Bucky, but then you looked to your right and saw Brenda, you smiled and put on your favorite show, cuddling up on the couch and sighing. You could keep your plants alive for two weeks, you had done it for months on your own.

Sam put the quinjet in autopilot after setting the route and sat across from Bucky. “So why didn’t you wanna come, getting used to the domestic life?” He joked and Bucky rolled his eyes. “Cmon I’m joking losen up” he laughed, throwing a peanut at him and Bucky broke into a smile as he caught it in his mouth.

“y/n and i got a bunch of plants right” he began and Sam nodded, “yeah i know she sends up pictures like all the time,” Bucky laughed and continued, “but she sucks at keeping them alive, so I’ve been taking care of them when she isn’t home and keeping them alive” Bucky spoke, a smile on his face as he realized how ridiculous this was.

“she doesn’t know you’ve been taking care of them does she” Sam questioned and Bucky shook his head, he bit his lip to stop his smile as Sam broke into a fit of laughter. “Oh my god they’re all gonna die on her like last year aren’t they” he spoke between laughs and Bucky nodded, his heart hurting as he thought of your face when the plants began to wilt and you couldn’t stop them.

“i just feel bad because he cares about them so much, but she just is actually incapable of caring for them, i mean she killed a cactus! even after doing everything she was supposed to!” Bucky laughed, wanting nothing more than to go home and hold you, and kiss you on the cheek.

“I can’t believe she can do basically everything but care for plants” Sam spoke and Bucky sighed, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.

As time passed your plants began to wilt, first was the orchid, a petal had fallen and it was now slumped over. Then was the ones hanging from the ceiling, the leaves all drooping and and even starting to dry up after the first week.

And then your succulents, you had been watering them way too much and essentially drowned them, and you accidentally killed your cacti by not em giving them enough water.

Of course with each plant death on your end, Bucky received the news through your daily calls. He felt so bad for you, comforting you every night and wishing he could kiss you and make you feel better. “Don’t worry doll I’ll be there in a couple days” he would say and you nodded, “maybe they just miss you” you giggled and he smiled, “maybe.”

By the time bucky got home, all the plants were basically dead, and you had thrown out half them before Bucky could even say goodbye.

“Sweets? I’m home!” Bucky smiled, setting everything down and closing the door, turning around to see you throwing out yet another plant before your face lit up and you jumped on him.

“i missed you so much james” you laughed as he picked you up, holding you tightly as he nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck.

“i missed you so much more doll” he whispered a smile on his face as you placed a kiss ontop of his head. He set you down gently on the couch and you immediately pulled him down with you, cuddling into his side and closing your eyes as you listened to his heartbeat.

“okay doll, please don’t get mad at me but i can’t hide this any longer” he spoke suddenly, getting up from the couch and moving infront of you. Your heart dropped and you felt dizzy, “what?” Your mind was racing, thinking of what the hell he could be hiding from you.

“okay it started off because i didn’t want to hurt you okay, i didn’t want to crush your spirit because you looked so happy and god i didn’t want to take that away from you, but then you went and got more and i couldn’t tell you then because i was in too deep and-“ you cut him off before he could continue.

“Barnes just spit it out!” You groaned, brows furrowed and a scowl on your face as he rambled.

“I took care of the plants!” He rushed out, letting out a sigh and putting his head in your lap. “I took care of Brenda when she started to wilt because i saw how happy you were taking care of her” he mumbled, looking up to see your confused expression.

“but my other plants i took care of those” you shook your head, and he scrunched his face up. “I took care of those too, i kept them all alive and cared for them so that you could think you were doing it, i wanted you to be happy as a plant mom, i knew how bad you felt last year” he spoke, looking up at you and searching you face for your reaction.

“that why they all died after you left, because you kept them alive” you whispered, finally putting the pieces together. Everything made so much more sense now, from you catching him moving the plants around and him buying fertilizer, you realized now it’s because while you were gone, he was taking care of the plants.

“You didn’t even tell me after i bought like 10 more” you smiled and he let out a breath after he realized you weren’t upset. “I just wanted to see you happy” he giggled and your heart fluttered, you ran your fingers through his hair and he closed his eyes.

“so you aren’t mad?” you laughed at the question, confusing him, and suddenly he was terrified because if you were mad at him he doesn’t know how he would make it up to you.

“how could i be mad at you baby, you spent hours on end taking care of plants that you didn’t care about just so i could be happy thinking i had a green thumb” you smiled, kissing his forehead and letting out a sigh, “if anything i should propose to you for caring for me that much.” Bucky smiled at you and gave you a quick kiss on the lips.

“i would marry you in a heartbeat doll face” he whispered, sitting back down next to you on the couch, “even if that meant taking care of an absurd amount of plants for me?” You teased and he rolled his eyes.

“as long as they aren’t orchids, that one was a pain in the ass” he laughed and you slapped his chest lightly, “i loved olive!” you argued and he shoved you softly, “you didn’t have to watch hours of videos to keep olive alive!” He shot back and you huffed, accepting defeat and setting your head on his chest as the tv played in the background.

After a couple moments of silence you smiled, realizing the trouble he must’ve gone through just so you could be happy over some plants. “I wasn’t joke when i said i would marry you y’know” you whispered, and Bucky blushed, kissing the top of your head.

“I know doll, and neither was i” he smiled as he saw your face flush, and suddenly all he could think of was the small velvet box he had hidden away in his t shirt drawer.

#bucky fluff #bucky x y/n #bucky fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #soft!bucky

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bokutosworld · 3 years

Text

the last time | oikawa t.

pairing: oikawa tooru x f!reader wc: 1115 words, angst. warnings: slight manga spoiler with mention of timeskip!oikawa summary: you saw it coming, he didn’t. all too abrupt, oikawa realizes that at the cost of pursuing his dream, he has to give something up.

note: you may or may not listen to taylor swift’s the last time while reading :D

It really wasn’t a conversation meant to have in the middle of the bustling Sendai International Airport — where crowds are too busy going from one end to another, trying to not be late for their flights. The announcements heard over the speakers mingled with the noisy chatters of the people out and about making it hard to have a normal talk but somehow, both of you can hear each other. Your words piercing through the commotion and reaching him clearly.

“You walk past those gates and you’re throwing away the six years that we’ve spent together.” Hands shaking at the sides and eyes betraying you of the emotions that you’ve kept while you were driving to the airport. You weren’t thinking clearly when you hastily ran out of the apartment, only fueled by your raging emotions as you grabbed the car keys and almost sped past every stoplight to catch Oikawa before his flight.

You didn’t know what came over you, what caused your mind to be filled with dread and doubts when during the time that Oikawa broke the news to you, you were the happiest for him. Years of supporting him by the sidelines, staying through his highs and lows, watching as he worked himself to the bones, his efforts finally came into fruition in the form of earning that coveted spot for a team in Argentina.

That time, you didn’t think about what it would cost your relationship. Only hyping him up as he prepares himself for success as – in your own words – the best setter that Argentina has ever seen. Of course, that encouragement did so much for Oikawa’s confidence and he was determined to make you prouder of him.

But right now, as those words slipped out from your lips with no warning, that confidence is shaken, threatening to leave him a hollow of a man.

“Where is this coming from?” His questioning gaze does not do much to conceal the stricken look in his eyes. “I thought you couldn’t make it here today.”

You take careful steps towards him in efforts to avoid too much attention from the passersby. But it was only in vain as the both of you have already drawn the curious eyes of passengers, muted whispers coming from them as they watch a couple on the brink of their end.

“I’ve been thinking.” Oikawa’s heart rate start picking up, hands clasping the hold on his luggage tighter. “I’m happy for you, Tooru. I really am, but you’re off to another country to pursue what you want. To pursue your future. Where does that leave me? Our relationship?”

The gears finally click in place and Oikawa understands the radio silence from you in the past week leading up to his departure. Why you’ve kept your distance, text messages limited to not more than a sentence, calls almost none.

His voice trembles, “You can’t do this to me. Not now. We’ve talked about this!” But he makes no effort to come to you, feet rooted in place just a few meters from immigration. The look in his eyes begs you to take back your words. “You said you’d wait. It’s only a few months or a year until I settle down and earn a permanent spot in the team. Then I’ll come get you and we can start our lives together there.”

Resigned, you cast your gaze downwards. Even without sparing him a glance, you can see that Oikawa is already as heartbroken and confused as you are. But one look at him and your resolve will only crumble.

“That future… that’s what we both want, right?”

“No, Tooru.” He feels his heart shatter, leaving in its wake pieces that are incapable of being glued together. “That’s what you want.”

He couldn’t take it more, closing the gap between the both of you and cradling your face in his hands. He forces you to look up at him, searching your eyes for something that tells him you don’t want this. But he fails.

Someone said that if they’re the love of your life, then they should already be your future. But in this case, you can’t find where you stand in Oikawa’s priorities, in his future. You may be his present now, but that’s not to say that things will stay the same days, weeks, months, or years from now. People change. Feelings fade.

And it’s easy to blame it on your friends for planting that seed of doubt in your mind. But deep down, you know that there’s always been a lingering thought in your mind that questions whether staying with him is worth it in the long run.

“Please don’t make me choose. I promise I won’t make you wait for long,” Oikawa presses his forehead to yours, traces of hot tears falling down his cheek.

“I can’t stand being here and doing nothing but wait for you, Tooru.” Your hands wipe his face, caressing them with a touch that screams finality. It sounds selfish, but really, after years of giving yourself to him, you’ve thought about it long enough and have come to a conclusion that maybe it was time that you work on yourself.

While some people grow together even when apart, you have a feeling that you and Tooru have differing dreams. Too different that it was only a matter of time and distance until your relationship falls apart.

So, you went ahead and decided to be the cruel person to break Tooru’s heart just before he flies to Argentina. You figured he needed it anyway so he can truly start over, with nothing holding him back from his past in Japan. So he can only move forward.

“Calling all passengers for flight LH 511 bound to Buenos Aires. The aircraft is being prepared and boarding will start in a few minutes.”

You’re about to remove his tight hold on you, but he doesn’t let you. Only capturing your lips in a searing kiss, but it’s so much different from the ones you’ve shared before. You feel his desperation, the way he longs to cling to you for just a moment more in the way his mouth moves against yours.

When he pulls back, he gives you one final look. “You’re mean. I hope you know I can’t just move on or forgive you for doing this.”

He composes himself, turning around and pulling his luggage as he struts to the gate.

You look at his retreating back, committing to memory this image of him for the last time, before you’re completely breaking down in the middle of the airport.

“I know. I won’t be able to forgive myself too.”

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu imagines #oikawa x reader #haikyuucreations #haikyuu angst #oikawa angst #haikyuu one shot #oikawa drabbles #oikawa tooru x reader #haikyuu fics #hq x reader #hq x you #haikyuu!!#haikyuu oikawa #oikawa tooru #really nobody asked for another angst!!!!! but here i go anyway #also not me having the last time on repeat while writing this!!!!! :p

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whosscruffylooking · 3 years

Text

Instinct Part Two: Interrogations and Intrigue (Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader)

A/N: I'm super excited for this part. Spencer and Reader’s relationship finally has some foundation!

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings! Mentions of suicide and manipulation.

(Reader’s POV)

I tap my foot anxiously as I peer around the bland and intimidating interrogation room. It looks like something out of a mental asylum in a 1980's horror movie. They want me frightened? They got me.

Count Dracula barges in abruptly and sits opposite from me. I wince at the sound of the metal chair scraping against the cement floor.

“My name is SSA Aaron Hotchner. I'd like to take a moment to get your description of the man who broke into your apartment," he shows no emotion.

I nod, "Well, he had his hood up and a bandana on, but from what I could tell, he had green eyes...maybe blue...or hazel. I'm sorry, I'm not a hundred percent sure. He was just a little bit taller than me, so maybe 5'8 or 9. He climbed out of my window, so clearly, he's at least slightly athletic. He disguised his voice; he made it sound almost like Batman."

He writes down some notes. A statement that the other agent presented to me at the crime scene puzzles me. I decide to inquire for myself.

"The other agent..." "Dr. Reid?" "No, Emma? Emily?" "Yes, Agent Prentiss." "Yes, her. She told me at the ambulance that I might be the key to solving this. What did she mean by that? This wasn't just a one-off robbery? How could it involve me?"

He purses his lips, obviously pondering the right response, "What do you know of the Nomad Boys?"

My heart rate rises, but I promptly disguise my anxiety. "You get straight to the point, don't you," I quip, "I know that they used to operate about a block from my old neighborhood growing up. A lot of people have lost their lives because of them. Both figuratively and literally."

"Are you aware of your brother's involvement with them?" Agent Hotchner examines me.

I gasp. What kind of game is he playing here? I shift uneasily in my seat, "Excuse me?"

"We have significant evidence that your brother Jeremy was involved with the Nomad Boys from 2015 until his death."

I slam my fist on the table, "How dare you. How dare you bring my brother up and implicate him in illegal activities that he had no part in. Is this what you people do? You're so desperate to close a case that you can't admit defeat in then you pin it on people who aren't even here to defend themselves?"

"You seem relatively defensive yourself. Care to explain why?" The emotionless man taunts.

"Two hours ago, I was the victim of a failed robbery, and now I'm being interrogated by the feds about my dead brother? Is that not a good enough reason to get defensive?" I clamor back.

Tears sting my eyes and threaten to spill over as I dig my fingernails into the palm of my hand, trying frantically to suppress my growing rage. He watches me like a predator to its prey. The sound of my rapid heartbeat muffles my hearing. I can feel my skin heat up with anger. I stare right back, eager to display my disdain for his treatment.

"If you'd excuse me," he gathers his files and leaves the room. I exhale shakily and hastily wipe the stray tears from my eyes, desperate to gain my composure.

(Spencer's POV)

Hotch exits the interrogation room and clutches my shoulder, "You're up. She knows more than she's letting on, even if she doesn't realize it. She will feel more comfortable with you." "Hotch...I-I feel like maybe Emily or Morgan should go in. Not me." "Why?" He glares at me. I swallow the lump in my throat.

I have a job to do.

"Forget about it," I say, stepping past him into the dimly lit room. She looks up at me with pleading eyes, silently begging me not to put her through what Hotch did. I sit across from her, noticing her obsessive picking at the skin of her fingers. Her knee bounces and lightly taps against the underside of the table.

She takes a deep breath and breaks the stillness, "Whatever it is they are thinking, it's not true. None of it is true. They're wrong."

"Y/N, I appreciate your willingness to cooperate and come back to the precinct with us and sit in here to be interviewed."

She throws her head back and laughs, "My willingness to cooperate?Interviewed? You mean interrogated, right?"

"I know this must feel like an ambush," I say, and she jeers, "but I promise if you just hear us out, the sooner we can rule you and your brother out of this."

She sits up, eyes wide, her posture defensive, "You just said my brother and me. Am I a suspect too? For god's sake, I don't even know what we are suspected of! Do you think I'm apart of the Nomad Boys too?"

Strike one, Spencer. Don't screw up again.

"I didn't mean it like that, y/n."

"But you said it," she crosses her arms.

"I need to ask you some questions about your brother's death."

"I'm going to be sick. Screw you, Dr. Reid."

I can't manipulate her. I don't want to. I can't use months of researching her to achieve our agenda.

It doesn't feel right. Why doesn't it feel right?

But for the efficiency and success of this case, it's required.

"Every day, you wake up in fear of the nightmares that haunt you each night. You live with the images of your brother engrained in your mind. The patterns he used to follow every day have now been adopted by you, most likely in an attempt to keep his spirit alive somehow. You are constantly looking over your shoulder because, still to this day, aspects of his death leave you unsettled and uncertain. You opened the door today because you were under the impression that the person on the other side would be able to offer you insight into your brother's death. He couldn't because he had another agenda, but I can. I can give you that insight; I just need you to work with me."

I watch as she struggles to fight the pain that comes from masking her fear. I got to her.

Why do I feel so guilty?

Her lip trembles as she begins to speak, "I know he didn't kill himself. That's all." "What makes you so sure?"

She releases a sob and then grapples with composing herself, "B-because he loved his family. He loved life. His girlfriend was pregnant; he was going to be a father. What kind of man who was so family-oriented and had such a bright future ahead of him would do that to himself, to his future child?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize he had a child." "Aren't you guys supposed to know stuff like that? Shouldn't you come in here armed and ready with any ammunition needed to break me down?" She cocks her head. "We do. We try to find out all vital information on our suspects and those connected with them." "That's how you know that I follow the same routine as my brother? Have you been watching me?"

I can feel a bead of sweat drip down the back of my neck; I reach my hand around to pat it off and to buy myself time to come up with a sufficient answer. She chuckles, "You don't have to answer that. I've seen you and Count Dracula in there tailing me."

My heart stops, and I swallow unexpectedly, slightly choking in the process. "For professionals, you sure don't take into consideration the fact that most people are suspicious of black SUVs now...mainly because of tv shows. Black Suburbans with tinted windows are either law enforcement or a celebrity. And judging by the fact that no celebrity would ever willingly set foot in my town, I was quickly able to determine which I was looking at every Monday and Friday from 10am to 5:30pm. You should really try getting some red cars, maybe blue, just try and blend in a bit."

"Actually," I begin falling back on my knowledge as a way to diffuse the situation, "Any vehicle, when suitably modified, can be utilized as a police vehicle, but the most prevalent are those produced or altered by manufacturers for the role of being a police vehicle."

"Validation and dissemination: am I making you uncomfortable, Dr. Reid?" She raises her eyebrow. I adamantly shake my head, "Not at all. I was merely dissecting your point and proving it to be a failed tactic to intimidate me."

She looks at me keenly, but not in the way she had looked at Hotch. No, she peers at me as if striving to convey a message, an offer to be her ally. While locked into her gaze, I can't help but study her. Contrary to all of the times we followed her, hidden within the shelter of our car, I can now learn her up close. She is attractive in a flawed, approachable way. Her vulnerability camouflages a might that even she doesn't perceive exists.

(Reader's POV)

I study him thoroughly. He baffles me. A man in the station he is, maintaining the job he has, and bearing the weight of both victims and perpetrators on his shoulders, should be coarse, bitter, emotionless, much like the first agent who grilled me. Yet, here he is, eyes lighting up when he starts to spout off facts. His nervous ticks overflow, making it seem like he is incapable of withholding the truth of what this job does to him. He doesn't want to put me in this position. He's not like the standard brute that treats this job, and it's prey as if they are nothing but a bridge to walk over to get appreciation and approval.

"I want to help you," he proposes in a hushed tone.

"I know," I whisper, easing back in my seat.

Unexpectedly, he offers me a wink and then stands from his chair. Stepping over to the door, he clasps the doorknob but delays for a moment. I look at him in anticipation. Looking back at me, he declares, "I'm going to get you answers. I promise you that." And with that, he's disappeared behind the two-way glass. A feeling of being left alone in an alternate universe overwhelms me.

Spencer is somewhere out there on the side of the good guys, his reputation untainted, with the certainty that he will be going home tonight. I, on the other hand, have lived in uncertainty since my brother died. Here I sit, on the side of the glass that is riddled with darkness and evil. Spencer lives in a world of heroes. But I have been subjected to the world of criminals. I have a feeling, though, that I won't have to navigate it alone.

Tag list:

@mcntsee

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i-write-sometimes-blog · 3 years

Text

Lost Without You (Bo-Katan x Mando!Reader)

Request: Can I request a Bo-Katan and maybe a Mando!reader like reader has sworn the creed like Din and they’re taking on an empire ship together and readers jet pack gets hit and she falls in the water and Bo panics because reader hasn’t resurfaced so she dives in after a d they have a cute moment together afterwards. lol sorry it’s a lot. Love your writing btw! By anon

Word count: 1,764

Warnings: Drowning counts? Also terrible attempt to describe cpr

A/N: This was fun to write. It was also my first time writing Bo but I kinda like the way it turned out. Hope you like it, let me know what you think!

The mission was almost over, you couldn't say it was the easiest you've been to but it was finally over. The ship was under your possession, Koska was piloting as Bo-Katan and you were taking down the remaining stormtroopers.

Flying with the jetpack around the ship allowed you to have a clear shot at the railings and upper levels of the cargo ship, your job was to blast anyone who tried to escape.

From the air you caught the familiar helmeted figure of Bo-Katan fighting hand to hand with the few remaining stormtroopers. She was a skilled warrior, moving fast and throwing punches at the white helmets around her with ease, these guys didn’t stand a chance against her. However, one of them saw the opportunity to grab his blaster from the floor while Bo-Katan was just finishing the last one of them and he aimed directly at her.

Just when the imperial was about to fire his weapon you shot him down, the thud of his body falling to the durasteel floor of the ship alerted Bo. She looked over her shoulder, finding the fallen trooper before turning her head to look at you.

"What would you do without me, Bo?" You said through the communicator earpiece under your own helmet.

"I've survived a war and a purge." She said in her usual cold tone. "I think I'd be fine without you."

You chuckled. Bo-Katan wasn’t someone to express her feelings often, aside from her anger. She was always focused on her mission to regain Mandalore, no time for other things. But deep down you knew she had feelings for you. Something in the way she was protective over you in missions and something in the way her emerald eyes seemed to soften when she saw you let you know there was a heart beating for you under her beskar cuirass.

"Oh, come on!" You told her. "Admit it, Kryze, you like having me around." you teased.

Thinking all the enemies were gone you both lowered your guard, used to one another's company. Neither Bo-Katan or you noticed the Imperial officer with a blaster in hand coming out of the farthest hatch.

"How sweet but-" Bo started but before she could finish with her words, a single blaster shot hit right in your jetpack. "Y/N!" She barely screamed when she saw the fire in your jetpack.

The shot broke the engines that kept you in the air, sending you flying in all directions and even though you tried you were incapable to control it. Finally it sent you directly into the water beneath the big ship.

The moment you felt the cold water you tried to swim back to the surface but the heavy beskar of the armor and the extra weight of the jetpack wouldn't let you. The helmet didn't make it any easier to breathe, it was making it rather harder but you weren't going to take it off, you wouldn't break the creed. And though you were fighting to get to the surface you only sunken more and more with every passing second, until you ran out of air and the world seemed to turn black.

Meanwhile on the ship, Bo immediately shot down the sudden menace before running to the railing of the ship, looking at the water for some sort of sign of you.

She waited for a moment, trying to control her nerves, hoping she would see your familiar helmet emerging from the water and she was ready to hear your voice through the comlink with some kind of comment that would make her roll her eyes. But after a short time of waiting none of those things happened and that put Bo-Katan in alert.

You were not resurfacing.

Without thinking it twice the woman jumped to the water, the fear of losing you completely taking over her because after all this time with you, Bo-Katan couldn't stand to lose you, she'd lose Mandalore before losing you.

She found you floating in the water like a ship stranded in space. Panic rushed through her body as she thought the worst. Wrapping her arms securely around you she ignited her own jetpack to pull you out of the water, placing you on the nearest platform .

She took off her helmet, worriness on her face as she waited for you to wake up, to say something, hoping for any sign of life yet she only heard silence. Concerned, Kryze leaned close to you.

You weren't breathing.

Bo-Katan needed to take a decision and fast but if she was to save you she must take your helmet off.

If it were up to her she would have taken your helmet off your head a long time ago, she longed to see your face, find out the color of your eyes, dreamed to kiss your lips... but there was this creed you sworn to. You were a Child of the Watch, a cult that she thought was stupid, however Bo respected it just because it was important to you.

She knew you would never forgive her if she ever dared to take your helmet off.

But this was a life or death situation and she preferred to be hated by you the rest of her life than losing you. She'd rather be hated but know you were alive than live knowing she could have easily saved by removing that piece of beskar off your head.

She sighed, preparing herself to finally take your helmet off. She grabbed it by the sides, admiring for a moment the designs over the metal before sliding it off your head.

Bo-Katan almost forgot her mission when she finally saw your face, perfect features that seemed to match perfectly with your voice, you were just as she imagined. But your eyes were closed as if you were asleep, reminding her of why she broke your way in the first place.

Returning to her mission she took your cuirass off your chest and started with the reanimation process, applying pressure to your chest with her hands alternating to provide some air to your lungs.

“Come on, Y/N.” she murmured, growing more desperate with every new push on your chest. “You can’t leave me.” she said, her voice cracking a little. “Please, come back to me, cyare.”

You woke up gasping for air, coughing as the water inside you left your body finally allowing you to breath. The first thing you saw in front of you was Bo-Katan kneeled next to you, her red hair looked messy and wet, a relieved smile curved her lips as her green eyes looked down at you.

“Hi, grumpy.” you barely murmured, still coughing a bit.

“Welcome back, Y/N.” she said. “You gave me a good scare there.”

You smiled at her but the smile disappeared as soon as you noticed the weight missing in your head, the way your voice wasn't making echoes, you haven't seen the world this way since you were a kid.

You weren't wearing the helmet. You broke the creed or rather, she did.

"Bo!" You told her, confusion in your voice. "What- why?"

"I'm sorry." She rushed to said, her tone was a bit more serious now, it was the tone she used to give arguments. "I had to do it."

"No, you should have-"

"Let you die?" She cut you off. "Forget it, I could never." Her eyes changed when she looked at you, they were not angry as always but actual concern seemed to paint them a lighter green. "I don't expect you to forgive me for breaking your creed, but when I saw you weren't coming out of the water I thought I lost you."

You watched her face carefully, there was fear on her face, sincere pain, weakness. For a woman that was always as strong as the beskar of her armor this was new.

"And I realized, I don't want a life without you in it." She said. She wasn’t someone to express her feelings often but actually Lady Bo-Katan, last one of House Kryze, rightful heiress of Mandalore didn't know what she would do without you. She'd be lost without you.

"I love you, Y/N." She confessed. "I love you, you enormously stubborn pain in the ass." She said with a smile.

You couldn't help but chuckle at her words but at the same time you were confused, upset for breaking the creed that was part of you for most of your life. But on the other hand you couldn't be happier now that you knew Bo's true feelings for you.

Hesitating you leaned closer to her. Your lips closer to hers for a few seconds before capturing them in a delicate kiss. You kissed her sweetly almost shyly for a moment, after all this time with her this was the very first you met her lips.

“I love you, Bo.” you murmured. Her green eyes admired you for a moment, filled with a mix of emotions, love was one of them.

She leaned to brush your lips again, long and delicately while her arms slowly wrapped around your waist pulling you close to her body making you smile between kisses, you enjoyed her closeness, her warmth against your body. And when the kiss was over she rested her forehead against yours for a moment and you stayed like that, just enjoying each other's comány.

The comlink beeping dragged you back to reality.

“Bo, Y/N, do you read me?” you heard Koska’s voice.

“Bring the ship to the coordinates I’m sending you. We had a small jetpack malfunction.” Kryze said, looking at her gauntlet, pressing a few buttons.

“Copy that.” You heard your friend say.

Bo-Katan turned her gaze back at you, there was a little smirk over your lips. “What?” she asked.

“So, you can’t live without me, huh?” you teased, remembering her words.You observed her putting on her helmet again and shaking her head.

“Don’t let that get to your head, cyare.” she chuckled, handing you your own helmet. “Now, come on. I wanna continue our little talk somewhere else.” she said in a teasing tone before the Imperial ship you had taken appeared in front of her, the hatch already open for both of you.

You looked down at the helmet in your hands for a moment and sighed before placing it back in its place. This was a new start for you, but you were sure that meanwhile Bo was by your side you were sure you could take anything.

Tagging: @natasha-danvers

(In case you want to be tagged for specific things or everything I write, just let me know)

#bo katan request #bo katan x reader #bo katan kryze #bo katan kryze x reader #Bo-Katan x you #Bo-Katan x mando!reader #i-write-sometimes-blog #Bo-Katan imagine #the mandalorian imagine #the mandolarian #koska reeves #star wars imagine

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ageofevermore · 4 years

Text

The Sun Met The Moon

SUMMARY — and finally the sun and the moon met, and they fell madly in love

WORD COUNT — 2.5k

NOTE — part three to part one + part two

───── ･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ: *. ☽ .* : ☆ﾟ. ─────

alex’s drums:

Sweat clung to his brow and shone in the golden light of midday. She smiled at the sight of him, stripped of all awareness and singled in on the task at hand. He had Alex’s drumsticks between his fingers, and a black ballpoint pen between his teeth. She watched him for a while, tracing the flex of his biceps every time he beat at the mounted toms. A blush of sheer adoration spread across her stomach lining, unleashing that same kaleidoscope of butterflies through her being that she had been introduced to weeks ago. Maybe it was too soon to say she loved him, but she could see the rest of her tomorrows in his arms.

“Hey, Ghostie.” She smiled at him from halfway across the room, advancing with less stealth now that he was aware of her presence. “What’cha working on?” She questioned. When her bare torso brushed against the snare drums, she leaned forward to kiss his lips sweetly. He tilted his chin upwards and pushed his bottom lip out, asking for another just seconds after she pulled away from the first.

“Just some new instrumentals.” He mumbled, setting the drumsticks and ballpoint pen aside on the floor tom. He reached for her hands, mumbling a gentle breathed, “come here”, and pulled her down into his lap when his hands could guide her waist. Luke smiled against her neck when she giggled, turning her head so she could tickle his ear with kisses.

“What are you doing?” She giggled when his hot breath tickled the patch of skin his tongue had just caressed. He was being his usually sweet self, though something else was prompting these touchy motives. “Alex is going to kill us if we mess up his drums.” She pulled away from the lips on her neck when they began to distract her, and instead she leveled her eyes with his.

“Said you wanted to play the drums with me.” Luke smiled, nipping at her lips when she pulled them tight in a sheepish grin. She broke out into a full fledged smile at his silliness, cupping his cheeks with her hands and pulling his lips to hers in a proper kiss. “Put your foot on that pedal.” His arms looped around her waist, holding her tightly against him so she wouldn’t slip away from his touch when they started. “That’s the bass pedal. Push it every four counts and when we get to the pre chorus every eight, yeah?”

Luke had gone through relationships and heartbreaks prior to what he had with Mia, but he had never been with someone who understood music like she did. He hadn’t ever met anyone like Mia.

hair braiding:

She left him with Julie and the boys while the sun was still high, letting the band get a few solid hours of practice in without her distraction. She loved Luke, but he was incapable of getting anything done while she lingered, always wanting a cuddle or a kiss. It was cute, made her feel desirable, but she feared it would get annoying for their friends.

She felt his gentle breath against her neck before she felt his arms snaking around her waist, pulling her back into his chest. She didn’t care that his hands were cold as he wiggled them between the waistband of her shorts and dug them into the flesh of her hips. She was just thankful that she still got to feel him against her.

“How was the rest of rehearsal?” She asked softly, reaching her hand up to gently twist silky strands of his milk chocolate locks. Her nails scratched against his scalp, encouraging his arms fall heavy across her sides for a few blissful seconds. She strained against his hold, but he didn’t seem to notice her writhing, or when she let out a soft whine of discontent.

Luke went on about practice, and the song he and Julie introduced to the boys. His smile was evident against her neck, and this time he noticed when she flexed against his hold and tried to twist in his arms. His retelling of practice seized, a smile cradling his lips as he squeezed her tighter, keeping her still.

“What are you trying to do?” Luke taunted, watching her strain once more before admitting surrender to his tight eskomo embrace. He kissed a path along her neck, but it did nothing to distract her from her ultimate goal.

“Let me hold you.” She managed through smiles and hums when his lips tickled her skin, heating the already dangerously hot exposed skin. Luke broke out into a full fledged grin, biting gently at the hollow of her neck.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders loosely, digging her fingers into his hair, and smiling contently. His head was heavy on her chest, but the weight was welcomed greedily. She loved just getting to hold him like this, considering most days he was pulling her into his lap and showering her with love. Absentmindedly, she had twisted strands of shaggy brown hair into a french braid.

reggie + alex being younger siblings:

Mia and Luke had finally settled down in the basement for a movie night. Julie had been the cover story, though once Mia’s parents were convinced of the girls sleepover, she snuck out of the window and made a mad dash for Flynn’s.

Mia grinned at the blue reflecting off of Luke’s eyes. She had seen Mamma Mia more than a handful of times, in fact it was her favorite modern musical, but Luke had never experienced it, and watching him was better then any scene between Meryl and Amanda.

“Do you like it?” She grinned eagerly, watching Luke’s smile widen when he looked down at her expression of sheer excitement.

She nearly shrieks when Reggie’s voice sounds instead of Luke’s, and her head snaps to the side to find both Alex and Reggie curled up in two spare blankets. Luke looks majorly annoyed, forcing a glare at his bandmates.

“What are you doing here?” He seethed, not lightening up despite the amused smile growing on Mia’s lips.

“You said it was movie night.” Reggie shrugged. “You know, Mia, this isn’t what I expected from you.” He vocalized, not batting an eye when Luke threw his head back in exasperation and threw a handful of popcorn in his direction. The leather clad brunette hummed, picking up a popped kernel and throwing it into his mouth, nodding towards Alex in confirmation of it’s good taste.

“So much for date night.” She whispers into Luke’s chest, though she was just happy to be beside her boyfriend and sharing her favorite film with him.

pre show + post show cuddles:

Luke’s head was buried in the crook of her neck, his anxious fingertips digging into the flesh of her hips. Julie and the Phantoms were playing the Orpheum, again, and his nerves were unrelenting in their assault towards his confidence.

“It’s gonna be great, baby.” She whispered into his ear, fingers twisting at the loose strands of hair that had slipped from the two braids down his scalp. She pulled the elastic tighter, laughing when Luke winced. “You’ll be great.”

“Phantom’s your on in 5!”

Luke squeezed her waist tighter, though whatever nerves had plagued him just seconds ago seemed to dismantle. He was hyping himself up, thrilled by the approaching gig. He got so in his head that he forgot he loved this, it just took a couple braids and kisses to set his confidence back.

“You’ve got your bearings now?” She teased, kissing Luke’s nose and standing from his lap. She held her hands out for him, helping him up and off of the chair. The blue eyed boy nodded, shaking out his hands and forcing a wide grin onto his lips that had her laughing. “Go knock your socks off, Rockstar.”

Luke made a b-line for her after their set wrapped, his sweaty body pinning her in a hug while she squealed and tried to worm away.

“Luke! You’re disgusting. You’re all sweaty.” She whined. Her arms were pinned to her sides and her face was pressed into his chest, filling her with only the scent and feel of his sweaty and smelly body. “Stop it!” She threw her head backwards with a laugh, somehow managing to break away from his embrace.

The braids she had tied into his hair were dripping with sweat so much so that the elastic was falling to the ends of his chocolate locks. She bats at his chest, nodding in the direction of the showers around the corner, “Go take a shower, smelly ellie.”

Luke breaks out into a grin, forcing a ket kiss to her cheek before rushing off in the direction of the communal bathroom and showers, chasing Alex and Reggie who had clearly had the same idea.

guitar lessons:

“These chords right?” She looked up with the same crescent moons in her eyes that Luke had fallen in love with. She had yet to stop trying to impress him, getting better and better at her musical craft by the day.

“Exactly.” Luke smiled, blue eyes glistening releasing the same kaleidoscope of monarchs in her stomach. “Move down to G, baby.” Luke instructed softly, not wanting to break the soft focus she held. He motioned to the neck of his own guitar, smiling widely when she mimicked his actions and strummed the same note.

Seeing her tongue poke out from between her strawberry lemonade lips when she focused and the crinkle of her nose every time she smiled up at him in delight made his half ghostly heart jump.

When she went down to the wrong chord again, and frustratingly looked up at Luke with stars in her waterline, he reached over and adjusted her positioning. His fingers lingered around hers for longer than was needed, but neither party minded as they shared a highly sought after moment.

“You play it.” She whispered, having had enough of her own lessons for the day, wanting to focus instead on her boyfriend's delicate craft.

Luke smiled complying to her demand, nodding her along to sing the softly aged lyrics, “Here comes the sun…”

finger kiss to lips thing:

She’s rambling. She knows that she’s rambling yet she can’t bring herself to stop. Luke had opened a wormhole of thoughts and hadn’t expected the emotional breakdown to follow. Her hands are fisting at his t-shirt, but her eyes are alight with wild emotion that he’s never seen before. She’s dangling over the edge and he’s unsure of how to pull her back to safety.

“Baby.” He tries, pointer finger beneath her chin and directing her attention to himself, “Baby girl. Mia.” Her eyes fall on his but she’s still a mess of hiccups and syllables, shuddering out apologies between every harsh intake of breath her lungs don’t reject. She’s gotten herself so worked up she can’t calm down. She wants him to understand her, but she knows that the more she talks the less he will.

“That’s not what I meant! Of course I want to spend forever with you, I mean, if you want to spend forever with me. I just, I didn’t mean--” She rambles, her eyes pinching tightly when she understands the bending of Luke’s expression.

Luke watches her struggle for a moment more, wishing he could just fill the miniscule amount of time before her next sob and tell her she had nothing to worry about. He wanted to spend forever with her as well; he loved her, but every time he tried to talk she shook her head and looked frantic.

Finally, he pulled his middle and pointer finger together, pressing them to his lips before smothering them against hers. Mia’s eyes drew wide as she tried to comprehend what just happened, but Luke only smiled at the silence at her doe-like expression.

“I love you too.”

forgetting they can feel each other:

They’re working together on a song, surrounded by broken picks and instruments. Julie’s keyboard is on the ground by her thighs and drumsticks are poking out from the tops of Luke’s ears. He’s nearly inverbal, mumbling broken words to her from behind pens and picks, but the sight of him pulls her heart in further.

She plays another melody on the keys, coupling it with the notes Luke had insisted on. It sounds sweet in her ears, and Luke looks up with a smile when it draws him away from his concentration with lyrics. A pick is between his teeth again, so the compliment he tries to throw at her is muffled and close to uninterpretable, but she understands him. She understands everything about him. She understands why he holds her for as long as he can and why he pops into her classes at random. She understands the way he mumbles behind his hands and pens and picks, and why he insists on her making the two of them food even when he’s capable of it. She gets it.

Luke watched Mia bring her lip between her teeth, eyes scanning the workspace before she lands sight on a faded leather notebook. Her path is blocked by his body, but she doesn’t pay it any mind as she pushes onto her hands and makes a start for the lyric book.

Her head collides with Luke’s chest firsts before she falls uncomfortably over the guitar and into his arms, looking bewildered for a moment before she’s brought back to the reality of Luke’s status. She can touch him now, it’s not like three weeks ago when they were condemned to ghostly hovering.

“If you wanted me to hold you, all you had to do was ask.” Luke beamed, moving the guitar aside so he could cuddle her properly. Mia’s cheeks flushed, “Did you forget you could feel me? Well, maybe I have to remind you.”

HONORABLE MENTIONS — the three times mia knew luke was in love with her and the seven she thought he was in love with reggie:

TAGLIST — @r0s3mm @midnightmagicmusings @joshy-obx @parkeret

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loveyhoneydovey · 3 years

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Carrillo reacting to you telling him you’re pregnant (Part 3)

A/N: Sup bitches, I’m kinda back? Anyway, this is basically a long and unedited mess. It’s pure angst as I enjoy torturing my characters (and myself). There’s probably going to be one final part after this if all goes according to plan. Might feel OOC. Hope you enjoy! Don’t hesitate to leave feedback and thank you for the love you’ve given to this series.

Warnings (please tell me if I’ve missed any): Pregnancy, mentions of PTSD symptoms, description of symptoms of depression, mentions of death

Part 1, Part 2

After what happened that night, you and Horacio decided it would be better to part ways

It was hard on you mentally. You were so used to living a certain way and it had all suddenly been taken away from you. Horacio had been taken away from you. What made it more frustrating was that he was still there. It felt like he was so close, but he was just out of reach. He wasn’t yours anymore, and he never would be again.

Getting used to not having him with you almost every day was probably one of the most difficult parts. Sometimes you’d find yourself dialing the number to his office, only to remember that that was something you weren’t allowed to do anymore

Some days you felt like you could take whatever the universe would throw at you. You were strong, and you knew you could take a lot, but there were also a lot of days where you doubted yourself. You knew you had no choice other than taking it one day at a time, but sometimes giving up felt like it would be so much easier and less painful. Was all of this really worth it?

Whenever you’d have moments like that, you’d often feel guilty and ashamed of yourself for even having those thoughts in the first place. You felt selfish, because it wasn’t just you you had to think of anymore.

And once you went to your first ultrasound scan, it finally hit you how much hurt this situation had caused you. Once you saw your tiny baby in the scan, once you realized you’d be raising them on your own, that they’d never get to meet Horacio, grow up around their dad and get the chance to learn what love is from him, that’s when you finally broke.

You knew you had people to support you, friends you considered family. And while a part of you felt like you would be a burden to them, you decided to listen to the part that told you to reach out to someone and finally got the support you desperately craved and needed.

Obviously, everything didn’t miraculously fall into place instantly, but little by little you began to build a comfortable life for yourself. There was a life after Horacio after all. A life filled with tiring hours of work and endless moments of doubting everything you did, but it also opened your eyes on how many precious people you were surrounded by. Friends who supported you every step on the way, and although it didn’t feel the void Horacio left, you couldn’t complain about it.

Ever since that night, Horacio threw himself into work and moments spent at home were scarce. Staying home alone meant having time to think, and he couldn’t afford to start doubting his decisions. He couldn’t be wrong about this, not with what was at stake.

Some may think escaping reality forever is unattainable, but that wasn’t going to stop him from trying.

And try he did. He was spending so much time at his office or on the field that he almost began to forget what the inside of the house looked like.

It was beginning to take a toll on him. He wouldn’t admit it to himself, but the downward slope his overall mood seemed to have taken was noticeable to anyone who knew him on a personal level.

His PTSD was worsening. He wasn’t able to get much sleep and when he was, his mind would be plagued with nightmares. It was not unusual for him, but what was different this time is that your face was the one that came to haunt him instead of his son’s.

He kept trying to push the horrifying images away the same way he tried to all those years with his son’s. He didn’t want to admit to himself it was a lost battle from the start, but he knew it wouldn’t get better without professional help, that’s what you always told him. He just wasn’t ready to listen.

When he’d wake up in cold sweats, his mind couldn’t help but think about everything chasing Escobar cost him. His first family was ripped away from him and he had no say in that. He’d always viewed himself as a failure of a father and a husband after what happened.

And for the longest, he assumed losing you, his second family, was a cost attached to everything that happened with Escobar. What he had failed to see due to his blinding denial though, was the fact that he had control over what happened this time.

He couldn’t bring his son back, couldn’t mend his first wife’s heart, it was too late for that. But he had control over his life now. He made the conscious decision to let you leave… to let his own baby grow up without their father around.

When he no longer had the energy to try and escape his truth, that realization is what finally broke him.

Horacio Carrillo failed as a father, again. This time, it was because he gave up without , and that betrayed everything he ever stood for.

With that knowledge, he had to decide if his new family was worth trying to get his life back together for, or if he’d pick the easy way and continue to wallow in self-pity while convincing himself he was incapable of not ruining something good.

#horacio carrillo x reader #horacio carrillo #maurice compte #javier peña x reader

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lilbabycee · 4 years

Text

bunny // steve rogers (part one) 🐰

READ PART TWO

↳ summary: the reader finds herself in a little bit of trouble... financially. enter steve rogers.

↳ relationship: soft dark!steve rogers x brat!reader

↳ word count: 5.6k

↳ warnings: sugar baby au, eventual dark steve, daddy kink, eventual smut, mentions of substance abuse, unhealthy coping mechanisms + relationships, the reader is rich and a little bit of a bitch

↳ author’s note: i started writing this series ages ago but i’m thinking that maybe posting it on here will give me the inspiration to continue! please enjoy! ❤️

chapter one: you expensive you know that?

—

" you expensive, you know that?

i'm high-maintenance a little but not in a, not in a negative way

i just like extremely expensive things"

- faithful, drake

—

“But Daddy-!”

“No, absolutely not,” your father shuts you down without hesitation which immediately makes your eyes water.

“Please, I promise I won’t do it again-”

“That’s what you said the last time,” he reminds you nonchalantly and you can hear the rapid clicking of a keyboard in the background of the call. He’s not even paying full attention to you, likely still working on whatever the CEO of a multi- billion dollar corporation needs to work on.

“But I’m serious this time!” you insist, cocking a hip and tapping your acrylics loudly on the top of your marble kitchen counter. “You know what I’m like - I swear I’ll do better this time-”

“Nope,” his hard tone cuts you off as you hear his office phone ring. He sighs loudly over the receiver which makes your heart fall. “Look, honey-”

You know what’s coming and you can’t even try to stop it.

“-I’ve got another call coming in. I’m not sending you another dime until you can prove to me that you have the ability to be financially independent. I didn’t pay for all of those expensive private schools so that you could sit on your ass all day and blow my money like it’s in endless supply. You have all the necessary credentials to go and get a well-paying job, so go get one, goddammit. And please call your mother - she’s been trying to call you all day. Neither of us have any time left to entertain your little addictions nor your blatant disregard for the hard work that we’ve put in to get you where you are today.

“You’ve proven to me before that you are grossly incapable of doing even the simplest of tasks, so don’t let me down with this one,” he sighs loudly. “Sometimes, I wish you were more like my colleagues’ kids - they’re doctors and lawyers but all you are is ungrateful. I’ve really gotta take this call,” he says your name sternly which makes you tap your nails even faster. “Do as you’re told for once in your damn life.”

“Daddy-!” you borderline shriek once more before the phone clicks and he’s off attending to more important business.

You don’t even realize that you’re pouting until your lips start to tremble, nor do you realize how much his words have gotten to you until you touch your cheek gently with your fingertips and they come back wet and glistening like gold in the warm light of day.

Maybe he’s right. You’ve been living in this penthouse for the past year without having to worry about anything. You loved it when you attended the first viewing, mainly because of the huge windows, three bedrooms and bathrooms (that you definitely don’t need because you live alone), the open plan, spacious kitchen and living areas, and the fact that all of your neighbors are either famous or excessively wealthy like you. You saw the acquirement of this apartment as a prime opportunity to further climb the social ladder, not that it’s really all that hard for you considering the fact that your father is one of the richest people in not only New York but the entire country. But you’d lived in Italy for a year prior to moving back to New York and upon your return to the USA, you decided that you really wanted to re-establish a name for yourself here, of course with the help of your father. He bought the penthouse almost the moment that you said you had your eye on it, and he just kind of…left you here. He’s only come to visit a handful of times since you bought it two years ago, though your mother has been over far more frequently to your utter dismay.

You inhale deeply through your nose, your eyelash extensions fluttering dramatically against your cheekbones. Grabbing your phone - the newest iPhone that you bought after you broke your other one at your friend Peter’s party - you sulk over to one of your ridiculously overpriced couches and fall dramatically - but not dramatically enough to crease the material of your latest drunk purchase, a white Gucci jumpsuit - on top of all your throw pillows, the picture of a damsel in distress. Your freshly manicured toes - painted white yesterday - curl into the softness of it as you huff, dabbing delicately at your face again to rid yourself of any traces of sadness before thinking about what the hell you’re going to do next.

Yes, you have a savings account that is far more than enough for you and your grandchildren’s grandchildren to live lavish lives and while that’s all well and good, even you know that you probably shouldn’t spend that... but it’d have to do until you found another way to get your money. With that, you shrug noncommittally and your face ID unlocks your phone so that you can start your newest endeavor - buying one of everything off of Alexander Wang.

Sure, you should be proactive and take initiative to finally take the steps to distance yourself from your parents, but you’ve only just had your twentieth birthday. After graduating from high school at fifteen - yes, fifteen: your parents really pushed you, to say the least, and it helped that you were naturally intelligent beyond the capabilities of even the nation’s best high school teachers - you started your undergraduate at Harvard in the fall and finished at eighteen. You took what you dubbed an ‘extended summer vacation’ - hence Italy - and now you’re at an impasse.

Okay, admittedly your various interests - you refuse to call them addictions because they’re really not that serious - that may or may not include a wide array of party drugs and alcohol probably don’t make you the most trustworthy person in the eyes of your parents. But you’ve done everything that they’ve told you to do for the past twenty years of your life - can they blame a girl for wanting to have a little fun? A smile spreads across your face as, while scrolling, you spy the blue dad jeans that were completely out of stock just last week and quickly add them to your cart with a sense of self-satisfaction before continuing to add almost everything else to your bag. It’s not like you’re heavily dependent on anything - substance abuse is not a good look for you: it was definitely more early 2000s than now - and you only do them recreationally in social situations, so your parents really have nothing to worry about. They’re overly paranoid about you somehow tarnishing their image when in reality, your work in and outside of an academic setting has really bolstered their reputation more than they could have ever hoped for - not to toot your own metaphorical horn, but your endless philanthropic work coupled with your eagerness to “make a change” and your work in fashion has put you on the Forbes 30 Under 30 every year since you were fifteen.

You press the checkout button and your Apple Pay seamlessly completes the purchase for you: $29,000. Shrugging noncommittally, you lock your phone and stare pensively at the picturesque view of New York City outside of your window; that is until Alexa alerts you that Natasha is calling you.

Perfect timing.

Natasha’s voice echoes over the loudspeakers in the ceiling. “Hey, bunny,” she greets you and you groan loudly at the nickname, restlessly hopping up to grab a glass of water from your kitchen.

“Hey Nat,” you reply, more of a whine than anything else, and she laughs loudly at your tone.

“What happened to you? “

“Daddy cut me off,” you huff, walking to the couches in front of the TV and settling down with your glass of water. With a press of a few buttons on the universal remote, you FaceTime your best friend instead - a flash of red hair and then a blindingly white smile. She assesses you on your couch and laughs again, a full-bodied cackle that only intensifies your pout.

“It’s not funny,” you protest, although the corners of your lips are quirking up in amusement at her ridiculous laughter.

“What did I tell you?” Natasha struggles to get the words out in between chuckles. “I knew he was gonna do this-”

“Yeah, so did I, but I didn’t think he’d do it this soon-!”

“I’m surprised he didn’t do it sooner,” Natasha moves around a little before propping her phone up against her knees so that you can see her sitting comfortably in her bed. She starts picking at her own black acrylics, “and you can’t deny, bunny-”

“Don’t say I deserve this,” you narrow your eyes at her, and Natasha only sends you her signature smirk.

“I wouldn’t say you deserve it, per se,” Natasha begins, “but you’ve gotta admit,” she says your name, clearly on the verge of laughter again, “I like a party as much as the next girl, but you do go a little overboard-”

“I wouldn’t say overboard,” you insist, suddenly taking up a very keen interest in your cuticles. “Here’s what it is: Mother doesn’t like the fact that I don’t like her and Daddy’s just flat out disappointed in me for no reason-”

“-apart from the fact that you very nearly got caught doing lines of blow off of Senator Pierce’s son-”

“Shhhh,” you interrupt her, closing your eyes and pressing a finger to your lips while shaking your head, unable to fight the growing grin on your face. “That was one time-”

“You mean the one time you got caught-?”

“Yes, Natasha, that’s what I mean. Anyway - you never call me like this unless you need something - thought you were gonna text me instead. What’s up? Is it Bru-”

“Oh, no,” Natasha quickly cuts you off, her cheeks flushing red. “Bruce and I have been over for a while now-”

“You were just talking about him last week-”

“Yeah, yeah,” she deflects, tapping her fingers on her thigh. “I was actually calling to see if you wanted to go shopping for Parker’s party that’s tonight-?”

“Yes, absolutely yes - why would you even have to ask-?”

“Okay, cool,” she interrupts you, smiling toothily. “Get Jarvis to get you there by 2:30 - I wanna go to the Louis store: the summer collection just dropped-”

“Sounds perfect-”

“But one more thing,” she says your name again but in a more concerned tone. You finish your glass of water and set it on the coffee table before leaning forward slightly.

“What’s going on, Nat?”

“I’m worried about you, bunny,” both her eyes and her tone have softened drastically, making you purse your lips. “What’re you gonna do now that your dad’s not giving you any more money?”

You sigh loudly through your nose, shaking your head. “I don’t know, Nat,” you admit, snapping a hair tie against the skin of your wrist rapidly. “I’ll just have to find a job - or do more sponsorships and ads and get back into modeling and maybe actually try acting this time?”

Her green eyes pin you to your couch, even through the screen, and she scrutinizes your face for almost a full thirty seconds before scrunching up her nose and nodding hesitantly. “Alright. As long as you’re sure that you can make it work… because if not, I have an option that I think you may like…”

Your eyebrows shoot to your hairline as you motion for her to continue.

“Y’know how Wanda got really into that thing a couple of years ago?”

Your brain works overtime, trying to remember exactly what it was that Wanda was doing - all you remember is that it was fairly secretive and she didn’t tell you a lot about why she kept sneaking around.

“She was seeing that older guy,” you snap your fingers when you remember, Natasha’s slow nod confirming it, and then promptly frown because-

“What does this have to do with me?” You stare directly into Natasha’s eyes as she falters, obviously wondering if it’s too late to just backtrack altogether - yes, it is - and then she sighs.

“She wasn’t just seeing him,” your best friend starts slowly, choosing her words with great care, “she was his sugar baby.”

Now, this is news to you.

“You’re fucking with me,” you scoff in disbelief. “Wanda?”

Natasha keeps nodding, blowing her bubblegum between her rouge-painted lips until it pops with a sharp snap. “I’m serious, you can go ask her. But believe me, I was just as surprised as you when she first told me-”

“She didn’t tell me,” you murmur, something akin to betrayal burning your tear ducts. Natasha only barks out a laugh and clucks her tongue at you in a decidedly motherly way.

“Of course she didn’t tell you,” the redhead snorts, shaking her head. “She didn’t want you getting any ideas,” she says your name through a laugh, “you were - what - like eighteen two years ago? That would’ve been questionable at best -”

“But you guys didn’t know that I was gonna do anything-”

“Come on, bunny,” Natasha pins you with a look that shuts you up almost immediately. “Give us some credit - we’re not dumb and we know you-”

“Fine,” you drag out the last syllable of the word childishly. “So why mention it to me now?”

“Because you’re old enough… and in a situation where your Daddy’s not paying for any of your stuff anymore.”

You tilt your head to the side, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Yeah, okay, but I’ve got, like, a lot of other opportunities that I don’t even need to work for,” you tell her cockily, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. “Why should I take this one when I could get any other real job so easily?”

Natasha’s lips curve into that same smirk. “Because you’re a whore.”

You collapse into a fit of giggles but she’s right. Really and truly, you are - what you like to call - a self-proclaimed slut. But any woman who’s free enough in her sexuality seems to be one these days, so you own the title that’s been hurled at you like an insult for so many years. You wear it with pride... for the most part, but not too much pride because you still have parents who still - somehow - think you’re a total virgin.

(you are still a virgin but your promiscuity makes people think otherwise)

“Right,” you agree easily, tapping your nails on the arm of the couch.

“Just something for you to think about,” Natasha hums, checking the time on her watch before rubbing the sleeve of her white Balenciaga hoodie over her face “Now, leave me alone. I’ve gotta go get ready; I’ll see you in a few.”

Without any further conversation, she ends the call and leaves you laughing light-heartedly although something heavy continues to weigh on your conscience. A sugar daddy. You can’t lie to yourself and say that it’s something that you’ve never thought about before - because it most definitely is - and it’s been the shameless subject of some of your filthiest dreams. Are you going to lie and say that you don’t have an… affinity for older men? No, you aren’t. Are you gonna tell yourself that the idea of a man spoiling you doesn’t make heat burn in your core? Absolutely not. However, you’ve never thought of yourself as the submissive type. Your confidence - no, cockiness has always been a real defining trait for you and that’s always worked in your favor when it comes to romance or even sex. You take what you want, rather than waiting for it to come to you. Although, you have a feeling that an attitude like that could get you in a lot of trouble in circumstances like these.

But what’s life without a little danger?

—

You’ve put on a tight, cropped black t-shirt and on top, a brown Fendi mini dress with thin spaghetti straps that clings to your body like a second skin; your feet are clad in heeled Louboutin ankle boots. Grabbing your black Prada bag and almost comically giant black, square Burberry sunglasses, you stare at your reflection in the mirror. You only put on a little bit of blush, mascara, and tinted lipgloss, accessorizing with small golden hoops, an array of rings that have been gifted to you by either your father or your ex-boyfriends and a simple gold necklace that spells out ‘bunny’ in cursive, a gift from Natasha. Satisfied, you slide your sunglasses onto your face and head to the elevator, phone in hand.

When you reach the lobby, Jarvis is waiting for you, holding the door open with a kind smile on his face.

“Miss,” he greets you, ushering you out the door. You basically jump on him, winding your arms around his neck and he chuckles as you sway back and forth in your embrace.

“Afternoon, Jarvis,” you grin at him.

The two of you walk outside to the black Range Rover with the tinted windows - black matches your outfit today - and as you climb in the back, your security detail split up into the other SUVs in front and behind you.

“So, what’s the plan today?” Jarvis asks you conversationally, stopping at a red light not even 15 seconds after you pull away from the front of your apartment. Damn New York traffic.

“Nat and I are going to Nordstrom’s,” you tell him despite the fact that he already knows, but he nods regardless. “And then Peter Parker’s hosting a party tonight.”

“And will you be needing a ride to that event?”

“No thanks, J,” you shoot him a smile before looking back down at your phone. “I’ll probably get a ride with Natasha.”

Jarvis nods and the rest of the ride passes in comfortable silence, the radio playing softly and the clicking of your nails on your phone screen the only sounds in the car.

—

“There’s absolutely no way you’re wearing that-”

“Shut up, Nat!” you squeal, grabbing the dress off the rack. “It’s kinda cute!”

Your best friend rolls her eyes at you fondly, staring at the monstrosity that you’re clutching in your hands.

“Tell me you’re kidding,” she deadpans, searching your face almost desperately for any sign of sarcasm.

You act offended: “I’m not!”

Nat just pokes you in the sides, tugs on your earlobe, and continues her hunt, which makes you burst into loud laughter and leaves the store employees looking at the two of you in what you’ve come to recognize as contained, professional amusement.

—

It’s about an hour before the party starts when you even start thinking about getting ready. In a Versace robe with your hair wrapped up in a towel, you’re scrolling through Instagram with a mud mask on. Nat comes into the room and shrieks at the sight of your face, making you flick your eyes up and grin as wide as the mask lets you. With her hand over her heart, she stares at you dryly while silent little chuckles shake your whole body.

“You’re in a good mood,” she remarks, eyeing you with an air of suspicion.

“Of course I am, Nat,” you look at her in disbelief. “I’m about to get wasted tonight-”

She interrupts you by calling your name out in a warning tone. Your only response is a dramatic roll of your eyes.

“We’re going so that we can have fun, not so you can go on a bender-”

“I won’t!” you drop your phone and throw your hands up in exasperation. “Holy shit, Mom - do you have no confidence in me?!”

Loud silence hangs in the air for a minute while Nat just blinks at you.

“...remember when you left me alone in Manhattan because you went to go trip on acid with Senator Coulson’s son-”

“Oh my God, Nat, okay, I get it - I’m a shitty friend and a drug addict, blah blah blah, whatever-”

“You’re not an addict,” she corrects you. “You just... really like doing drugs.”

You shrug, stretching your arms over your head, bringing them back down and then slapping your hands loudly on the bare skin of your thighs. The sound makes Nat flinch which amuses you mildly before you yawn loudly.

“Need me to help you with anything before I start getting ready?” you offer, knowing that once you start getting ready, you’re going to be in your own little world for about an hour and a half.

Natasha - who is significantly less high-maintenance than you - shakes her head. You nod, standing up and heading into her bathroom to wash the mud off your face.

“Did you think about what I told you earlier?” she asks, following you into the spacious room to lay on the chaise tucked against the wall behind you. You lock eyes with her in the mirror as she stretches herself out like a feline.

“Yeah,” you say nonchalantly. “Just for a little, but I don’t know if that kinda thing is for me.”

She runs her tongue over her bottom lip, looking down at her nails. “Oh, okay. I was just wondering ‘cause Wanda said there would be some people that she knows are into that kinda thing at Parker’s tonight-”

Oh, now your interest is peaked. You whip around, towel still in hand from drying your face, and stare her dead in the eye.

“For real?”

“Yeah, but if you’re not really interested-”

“Shut up, Natasha, you know I’m interested.” Your heart beats fast in your chest and your teeth catch on your lower lip, gnawing on it gently. Your fingers come back up to your wrist and stretch the elastic so that it bounces back against your skin. “Like… a lot of them will be there?”

She nods, regarding you with cool interest. “At least that’s what Wanda said. She’s better versed in this whole thing than I am.”

You can only bob your head up and down, suddenly nervous about attending this party. Natasha can sense it, putting a comforting hand on your arm.

“Look, bunny, it’ll be fine,” she gives you a reassuring smile. “They’ll love you. And if you change your mind, you won’t even have to interact with them in the first place; you’ll just be like any other person attending this thing. But Wanda knows a lot of them - that should be reassuring enough: she knows all about these guys, so it’s not like she’s going to introduce us to any major creeps.”

“Okay.”

—

“Okay,” you breathe out. Okay, you can do this. You’ve met presidents and prime ministers, singers and actors, kings and queens, but you’ve never been this nervous in your entire life.

Granted, none of those people were asking you to exchange sex for money, so it’s not really the same thing.

You’re wearing Dolce & Gabbana tonight - because they asked you to - and the golden silk dress that hits your mid-thigh and hugs your body so tight that it looks as if you were poured into it makes it all worth it. It shows off all of the dips and curves of your body and paired with your Alexander Vauthier clear slingback heels and a gold Vanina pearl-embellished handbag, you feel like a million dollars (even though that’s definitely not what this outfit costs). Natasha is standing next to you in a black Dolce & Gabbana corset dress - because they asked her to - and black red bottoms.

Your long red nails come up to toy with your ‘bunny’ necklace while you scan the massive crowds for a friendly face. It’s true that between the two of you, it is very much likely that you know - or know of - everybody here. But you don’t spare them a second glance despite the fact that they’re ogling you. No, you don’t linger on the bulging muscles and impressive height nor the full lips and pretty hair like you usually do. Instead, you’re looking for-

“Wanda! ” you call out, eyes falling on her reddish-brown hair flowing down her back in loose waves.

She’s standing by the bar, speaking to someone that you don’t know when she turns around, blue eyes quickly landing on you as she gives you that charming smile. Grabbing Nat’s hand, you run over to her and envelop her in a warm embrace. She squeals loudly, stumbling back as you realize that she’s probably already had a few drinks by now.

“Hi, guys,” she greets the two of you, looking up and down at your outfits approvingly. “You look hot.”

You return the compliment and pressing a kiss to her cheek, you stroke her hair while she and Nat engage in conversation. You take the opportunity to stare at all of the different groups of people who have gathered on Peter’s rooftop. There must be at least 300 people here already - the night has barely started - and you can see not a single person who looks like an old man. You furrow your brow, squinting and pushing up on your toes to see if you can see anyone that you don’t vaguely recognize from somewhere or another.

“Lookin’ for someone?”

The voice is unmistakable.

“Peter!”

He says your name in what’s only a mildly offensive mockery of your tone. You abandon Wanda and throw yourself into the arms of the boy, ruffling his already unkempt hair and also smacking a loud kiss on his cheek. He chuckles, his arm winding around your waist as he says hello to both Wanda and Nat.

Apparently you’re in a hugging mood tonight.

“I’m glad you guys could all make it,” he smiles so sweetly that you kiss him again, his cheeks turning flaming red. Peter has always been like a little brother to you although he’s actually a year older. You both went to high school and college together, and it helps that your mother and his aunt are also really good friends.

Except you don’t know how anybody could want to be friends with your demon of a mother.

“We couldn’t miss this,” Wanda gestures around her, pinching Peter on the cheek like a child which makes him frown. “Where’s MJ, Petey?”

You all “ooh” like high schoolers and Peter’s face turns somehow even redder - your heart swells - and he takes this as his cue to leave, slipping away and mumbling something about having to greet guests like a good host. It makes you all giggle, watching the boy with fond eyes.

Wanda abruptly turns to you, downing the champagne that she picks up off of the tray of one of the passing waiters.

“So Nat told me that you’re looking for a sugar daddy-”

“Shhh!” you hiss at her, clamping your hands tightly over her mouth because oh my god, Wanda, please speak louder. This makes Natasha laugh into her own glass of champagne.“Oh my god, why are you yelling?”

“Okay,” she drags it out and rolls her eyes, leaning into your group of three and whispering exaggeratedly. “So I heard you’re looking for a sugar daddy.”

“Sure, okay,” you whisper back, looking around before standing up straight because it’s just occurred to you how sketchy you all must look huddled in a circle like this. “So like… how does this work? Do we just… go up to them? Is there like some kind of code-?”

Wanda snorts loudly, throwing her head back and laughing. Your face slips into a pout and you cross your arms over your chest.

“No, idiot,” Wanda replies, pulling a tube of lipstick and a mirror out of her clutch. She starts to apply it while speaking to you. “They’re here already, and we’ve just gotta go up to them,” she smacks her lips together with finality, “and tell them we’re interested. Or, more like you’re going up to them and we’re here for moral support.”

“What happened to your guy, Wanda?” Nat asks, signaling to the bartender for a refill.

“And how did you get into it?” you ask her, one eyebrow quirking.

She smiles conspiratorially and runs her hands carefully through her hair. “There’s an app. And Viz and I are still together-”

“Viz? ” you almost choke on your own spit because you laugh so hard. Natasha joins you in a far more respectful way, her shoulders shaking as she picks up her now-full glass. Getting literal daggers thrown at your face would’ve been less piercing than the look that Wanda’s giving you right now, so you decide to shut your mouth and listen.

“Yes,” she says your name condescendingly, which makes you roll your eyes. “His name is Vision - it’s a long, personal story that I won’t share with either of you because you both fucking suck,” she stares the two of you down, “but that’s his nickname and what everyone calls him. It’s kinda cool, you know: super contemporary. Like Madonna or Beyoncé or Cher-”

“Okay,” Natasha licks her lips, putting one of her hands on her hip. “We get it, Wanda, thanks. But you told us that you guys broke up-?”

“Yeah, we just took a break,” Wanda shrugs. “Now, we’re back together and better than ever.”

You and Nat share a look before blinking back at Wanda, nodding your heads compliantly.

“So,” you rock back on your heels and start snapping your hair tie again. “Are we gonna go do this, or?”

Wanda’s eyes drift down to your wrist before she places a hand on top of it, stilling your actions. Your eyes are wide and glossy, your teeth worrying your lip.

“What’re you nervous about?” Wanda begins quietly, rubbing circles into your skin with her thumb. “They’ll love you - they’re all super cool and really hot. I think that the only problem that you’ll have is that you’ll be spoilt for choice.”

Your laugh comes out watery but sincere nonetheless, so Wanda loops her arm through yours while Natasha grips your hand tightly.

“Maybe we should get you a drink-”

“No, Nat,” you inhale deeply. “I wanna be completely sober for this. After… after, yeah. I’m definitely gonna need a drink after.”

You all laugh while Wanda weaves you through swathes of socialites, stopping to say hello to some people. When you finally make your way all the way to the other end of the roof, you can see why you didn’t see them before. There is a set of stairs that lead down to what looks like a zen garden. Tall torches flame a collection of very comfortable-looking couches are placed around a stone firepit and on top of those couches are a group of some of the most handsome men that you’ve ever laid eyes on.

The first one to make eye contact with you is astoundingly attractive, so much so that you almost trip over your own feet. You know- you can just tell that he smells incredible. His mahogany skin shines in the light of the fire, and his full lips curve over a gap-toothed smile that he shoots your way; it immediately makes a smile of your own spread on your face. His beard is lined up to perfection and there’s a mischievous sparkle in his whiskey brown eyes. A little bit of his chest hair pokes out from underneath the top of his almost halfway-unbuttoned dress shirt and your mouth waters. You almost feel sorry for the slacks that are hugging his thighs sinfully tight because his powerful legs look like they’re about to burst through the seams.

You decide that you’ve never wanted to be a pair of pants so badly in your life.

Jesus Christ. These men aren’t even close to what I expected.

All you can say is that you’re glad to see that the same caliber of attractiveness holds up for the rest of them.

The man next to him has longer brunette hair that hits his shoulders and you just want to run your hands through the silky strands. He has a bit more of a rugged look, his facial hair groomed purposely to give off that energy. He’s wearing a tight, long-sleeve black shirt and black slacks too, the monochrome outfit highlighting every inch of his well-toned body. When you look at him, he’s staring down into his glass, the sweetest smile on his face that makes you bite the inside of your cheek. But then he looks up at you, and you’re taken aback by the vibrance of his steel-blue eyes. It stops your breath momentarily, and you have time to regain it when he taps the man next to him on the knee and points towards the three of you.

The man in question raises his head, face shielded partially by a pair of yellow-tinted glasses. His blonde hair is slicked back away from his face, and you take a second to admire his prominent bone structure. But he’s looking right past you, eyes boring holes into Wanda which makes you stop your ogling.

You assume that this must be Vision.

There’s one of the men who isn’t facing you and doesn’t even turn around to do so, but you can make out his extremely broad shoulders clad in a white t-shirt even from where you stand a distance away. Even the back of his head is attractive, his thick neck and pushed-back blonde hair. Wanda tugs on your arm impatiently, evidently eager to reach her man.

The three of you linked together almost fall down the stairs before you regain your collective composures and strut over there with all the confidence that you don’t feel. Wanda lets you and Nat go when you draw closer, fixing her hair before the brightest grin that you’ve ever seen on her face shines at Vision. He opens his arms to greet her and you have to look away because of the very much x-rated kiss that she plants on him: you feel like you’re intruding on something.

“Jesus,” Nat snorts in your ear, her hand still resting in yours. This makes you giggle, high-pitched and nervously, so Nat squeezes your hand before she pulls you forwards.

Wanda has situated herself in the lap of her man, his hand resting gently on her hip. She clears her throat, cheeks red from her public display of affection, and begins to speak.

“Hi, guys,” she says, waving and smiling at all the men politely. They all greet her back warmly, raising their hands too. “These are my best friends. This is Nat,” she gestures to the girl next to you and Nat just nods her head in acknowledgment.

“And this is the friend I told you about,” Wanda introduces you by name to the four men who she points at in turn: “Bunny, this is Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes, Vision, and Steve Rogers.”

Giving a little awkward wave of your hand, you unglue your eyes from the floor and scan all of the men up close now.

They’re all so much prettier up close.

From this distance, you can now clearly see how pretty Sam’s eyes are, how bright Bucky’s smile is, how strong Vision’s jaw is, and-

Holy shit.

It’s obvious that you must’ve died and gone to heaven some time in these past few minutes because Adonis’ blue eyes are scorching holes into your face. His high-neck white long sleeve sweater is probably in his size but the way that his muscles flex under the material is telling you otherwise. The size of his biceps - probably as big as your head - briefly make you wonder what they would feel like wrapped around your neck-

If you stare hard enough at his pecs - which you are - you can see the hard peaks of his nipples; you decide that there’s something so sensual about that and if that alone didn’t just make you wet, you decide that you can’t be human. The sweater is tucked into grey checkered pants with a black Yves Saint Laurent belt wrapped around his surprisingly narrow waist. He’s leaning back in his seat with his huge hands on his thighs, his strong legs spread wide almost an invitation for you to crawl between them. Your eyes move past his clearly tailored pants to his huge feet clad in black Versace loafers and you can feel the liquid that pools in your cunt. Realizing that you’re shamelessly checking this poor man out, your eyes snap up to his face only to have the breath completely knocked out of you, not for the first time tonight.

Not only is his body complete perfection, but his face is also arguably even better. His defined jawline gives you the urge to run your tongue over it but that beard. Your squeeze your thighs together because you want to know how it feels between your thighs. His ears are perfectly proportional to his head - a characteristic that should never be underestimated, mind you - and his cheekbones are high. But you can’t ignore the fullness nor the rosy pigmentation of his lips - his lower lip is fuller than the top and you wanna bite it so bad and he’s smirking a little. When you finally lock eyes with him, you feel as if you’re drowning but admittedly even if you were, you wouldn’t mind doing so in the blue of his irises. They darken slightly when they train onto yours, and one of his perfect eyebrows lifts questioningly.

This whole interaction has only lasted about five seconds but it feels like you’re in a movie, everything moving in slow motion. He stands up abruptly and you do actually choke at his size, his sheer height and width alone soaking your panties. One hand in his pocket, he takes slow, measured steps until he stands directly in front of you, not even sparing a glance at Natasha.

“Bunny, huh?” you pray that your knees won’t give out at his deep baritone and you can’t take your eyes away from his, even when he sticks out his hand. “Nice to meet you. Steve Rogers.”

tagged: @literaturefeen @donutloverxo @evnscvll @stargazingfangirl18

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers blurb #steve rogers blurbs #steve rogers headcanons #steve rogers headcanon #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers imagines #marvel cinematic universe #marvel fanfiction #sugar daddy au #soft dark steve rogers

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thaliagrayce · 3 years

Text

okay so i know this post didn’t take off w y’all as much as it did with me, but i wrote a thing about it anyway because the concept wouldn’t leave me alone. i had fun :)

---

The gods wanted to kill Jason. The grownups never told him why, but he could see it was true in the glances he got and the extra kindness from the people wandering the streets, like sugary words would make him forget that he wasn’t allowed to leave New Rome. The gods wanted to kill Jason and that made him scary, but his dad was the biggest and most powerful god, which made him good and worth keeping around. Or maybe it made him scarier? Jason couldn’t tell, the grownups didn’t say.

When he was with Lupa, she never held her words back around him. She told him he never should’ve been born and so that’s why he was in trouble. She said his dad made a mistake. She also said that Jason was her favorite human pup, and that he was the one thing his dad had done right recently.

She was honest, but that didn’t make her less confusing. At least she talked to him like a person.

“Oh, Jason, not so close to the river!” The nice lady that ran the bakery down the block grabbed Jason’s wrist, pulling him back from the Little Tiber. He hadn’t even been that close, he’d just seen a pretty yellow flower growing a few feet from the banks. He’d wanted to pick it.

“But the flower,” he told the nice lady, pointing at it. Surely, if she understood that he wasn’t going to fall in the river, she’d let him go.

“Oh,” she said. She smiled at him, but it looked a little pinched. “How about I go get it for you?” She let go of his wrist, but moved between him and the river before he could even think about getting the flower himself. She picked it quickly and brought it back, crouching in front of him and tucking it behind his ear. Her hand lingered by the side of his face.

“There. That’s a really pretty one!” She smiled at him again, but he could still see something other than happiness. “Next time you want something that close to the river, go get someone to help you, alright? You know it’s not safe for you to go close to water.”

He nodded. He’d been told. The gods wanted to kill him, and water was dangerous. Underground was dangerous. The world outside of New Rome was so dangerous he wasn’t allowed to go out, even if he had grownups with him. He was going to start his training soon, and if he trained hard enough and got tough enough, maybe he could go as far as the borders in a few years.

Lupa was outside and Lupa drank from rivers and Lupa said he would be fine as long as he was brave, but the grownups here didn’t listen when he said that. They picked his flowers for him and smiled with fear.

---

Bobby had a broken arm and Gwen was exhausted almost to the point of collapse and it was Jason’s fault because the gods had a grudge against him, specifically. This was supposed to be a fairly minor quest. It was the first time he had been allowed to leave New Rome, and apparently the monsters hadn’t liked that. He crouched low in front of his friends and bared his teeth at the monster in front of them, brain scrambling for any solution that might let them out of this situation alive. He’d worked so hard for this, he’d been training for years to be good enough to survive in the outside world. He wasn’t about to let a monster—even if it was one of the furies themselves—prove him incapable.

“Where is it?” the thing snarled at him. She’d been saying that a lot. The fury had been tracking them for miles and they had almost made it back to camp when she caught up with them, demanding Jason stop and fight her. Jason specifically, even though this wasn’t even his quest, even though he was the youngest on the team.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Jason could feel the frustration in his chest. He gestured behind his back, desperately hoping Gwen remembered the hand signs they had been drilling lately. She was older than him, but he had been in the legion longer and he wasn’t sure if she’d had enough training for it to be second-nature in an intense situation like this. Take Bobby to the tunnel. Retreat. We’re so close, I’ll distract her.

“You and that Jackson boy think you’re so clever, don’t you?” Me and who? “If you tell me where it is, I might find a nice, light punishment for you—almost no fire involved!”

Jason bit back a snarl, something that he had recently realized most people—people who had spent less time with Lupa—didn’t have to do nearly as much. He readjusted his grip on his sword, which had been slipping. It wasn’t much use trying to reason with monsters, but if it bought his friends more time…

“Whatever it is you’re looking for, I don’t have it.” He kept his voice as even as he could, hoping he sounded mature and steady instead of somewhere around ten years old and scared enough that he could feel the tears lurking just beneath his adrenaline. “Why don’t you leave my friends and I alone and go looking for it somewhere else.”

She narrowed her eyes at him and brandished her leathery whip. Tiny tongues of flame danced up the length of it, and he could see them reflected in her eyes as she took a step closer.

“How about this, son of Jupiter. Why don’t you—”

She cut herself off suddenly, narrowing her eyes and cocking her head to the side. Her face took on a distant expression, and Jason used the temporary distraction to cut a glance to Gwen and Bobby. Gwen looked back to him, mystefied, but Bobby’s eyes were tightly shut as he clutched his arm. Jason took a step back and made a much more obvious gesture toward the tunnel, to which Gwen nodded.

The fury blinked slowly and scowled, coming out of whatever trance had taken her over.

“It’s your lucky day, godspawn. You were telling the truth.” Jason gritted his teeth. “We’ve found the culprit, and I have more important things to do.” With one last dramatic crack of her whip, she dissolved in flames, leaving the three of them alone on a hillside not far from the Caldecott Tunnel.

Bobby whimpered. Jason flipped his sword back into a coin and slipped it into his pocket, hands shaking slightly now that the danger had passed. He could feel the tears from earlier pressing up, but what kind of son of Jupiter would cry in front of his companions? Even now, as the youngest in this team of three, age twelve at the most, they looked to him for direction. He swallowed thickly and pulled Bobby’s non-broken arm around his shoulders, taking his weight off of Gwen and allowing her a much needed break. She nodded at him, grateful.

The gods wanted to kill him, but they hadn’t succeeded yet. He was only getting stronger as he grew. His first quest had been successful, despite all the monsters they had thrown at him.The gods wanted to kill him, but Jason had people to protect now, friends that he needed to get to safety. A home and a family, even if he didn’t quite feel like he belonged in either.

The gods wanted to kill him, but Jason wasn’t going to die.

---

It was because his father had broken an oath, apparently. There was a reason that Jason had never met anyone like himself, and that reason was every war in the history of humanity. Demigods born of the Big Three gods were too powerful and too prone to argument. Jupiter wasn’t supposed to have children, but here Jason was, and the other gods were angry about that. They wanted to punish Jupiter for his mistake.

Lupa said that there had been others like him, demigods that never found her. That they had been killed for the sin of being alive, been overrun by the worst monsters available. That Jason had done well to fight and train as hard as he had been. Lupa was not exactly the comforting type, but Jason still felt much more at ease around her than back at camp. Lupa didn’t hold back, and she didn’t look at him like his father’s power defined him. He was just another demigod pup to her.

Well. He was her favorite, but that wasn’t because of his father.

He broke out of his thoughts, where he had been staring out of the ruins of the Wolf House, and brought his attention back to Lupa. She looked completely unconcerned about the information she had given him.

“That’s why everyone was so cautious about water, isn’t it. Neptune must be angry about the broken promise.”

Lupa blinked at him, a confirmation. I doubt that the cowards in charge can keep their leash on you for much longer. You are capable of defending yourself.

That was why he was there, actually. After all, he’d fought and killed the Trojan Sea Monster in his last quest—what worse could the ocean throw at him? After an encounter with a fury proved ineffective, what could the underworld send? The first thing Jason had done with permission to leave New Rome was visit the only place that had ever felt like home.

Lupa’s pack didn’t look to him for orders, or come to him with difficult questions, or ask him when he would petition for praetorship. They wrestled him into the dirt and mocked him for cooking his meat before he ate it and told him the truth about so many things in his life that people tried to hide. Wolves don’t care if a truth was ugly. Truth was truth.

He watched two wolves tumble over each other, playfully bearing their fangs and growling in a way that meant “friend” instead of “back off”. It had been a long time ago, but some of his earliest memories were those teeth and that tone of growling. It had taken a lot of effort to stop trying to bite people he liked when he got to New Rome.

“Will it ever stop? The attacks?”

How should I know? Lupa got up from where she had been laying. As long as you are strong, it doesn’t matter.

Jason watched as she lumbered over to the two playing wolves, jumping into the middle of their game and immediately establishing herself as the wolf in charge.

The problem was, Jason wasn’t sure he wanted to be strong. He would be, he had to be in order to survive, but he thought ahead to a life of constant vigilance and constant training, of a life lived within the ranks of the legion for his own survival.

He was tired, but what other choice was there?

---

There was a partial prophecy in the Sibylline Books. They didn’t have the full wording, because the books had burned with Rome, but one of the fragments concerned him. Jason had taken to staring at the place where it had been carved into the floor of the temple to Jupiter. He passed it on the way to give tribute to his father, and it always made the back of his neck prickle.

Written, it didn’t make much sense, but it called to him nevertheless.

A half-blood of the eldest gods

Shall reach sixteen again—

And see the wo—

The hero’s soul, curse—

A single choice shall end—

Olympus to preserve or raze

Had it come to pass already? Jason didn’t think so, Octavian had become obsessed with these bits of verse lately. He would have been crowing his theories to the entire legion if he’d thought he solved one of the ancient prophecies.

There’s no saying that it hadn’t already come to pass, but Jason was still nervous. Nobody else brought the prophecy up, but Krios loomed. The titan’s seat of power was growing in the west, and the legion was preparing for war. If anything in his lifetime was going to possibly raze Olympus, it wold be soon. If this prophecy was going to happen within this lifetime, it was going to happen soon—Jason was the only demigod in New Rome it could possibly apply to. The other gods had kept their pact. Jason was the only child of the Big Three.

The problem was, he had no idea how old he was. He didn’t think he’d reached sixteen once, let alone again, but nobody could be sure without knowing his birthday. He could realistically be anywhere between fourteen and sixteen, so maybe he didn’t have to worry about it.

Then again, if he was already sixteen, maybe he was due for a second sixteenth birthday soon. If that prophecy was about him. It could be any day now. It might or might not be about him and it might or might not bring about the downfall of Olympus and it might or might not be happening today, or tomorrow, or the day after that.

Jason trained harder.

---

He wasn’t alone. There was a boy at camp now who said he was an ambassador of Pluto, that he was Pluto’s son, that he had brought his sister—another child of Pluto, another demigod like Jason—to train here. How was that possible? The Big Three were forbidden from having children, and yet.

Hazel’s wide eyes and the way she gripped a sword told Jason right off that she was new to this world, but Nico had a sword hanging off of his belt, blacker than any metal Jason had ever seen before and scratched with heavy use. As Jason watched, Nico took it out and moved it slowly, a demonstration for his sister. Jason could see the years of training behind it. Nico didn’t use a style that Jason was familiar with, but his motions were clearly practiced. For a moment, he glanced at where Jason and Reyna stood side by side, observing the children of Pluto. It was only a moment, though, before he went back to gently correcting his sister’s grip, smiling when she got it right, murmuring praise too soft for Jason to pick up.

All his life, Jason had been respected, admired, and feared in equal measure. The gods had wanted to kill him, but he had proven unkillable. He had faced a fury, felled the Trojan Sea Monster, and toppled the throne of Krios. He had been raised on a shield after the battle at Mount Tam, but he had been raised on a pedestal even before that—he’d been separated from his fellow demigods because of his parentage and the power he never asked for. He’d had more attention than he’d ever wanted since he first came here.

The Ambassador of Pluto gave the impression that he was unimpressed when he had first met Jason. He hadn’t even reacted when Jason was introduced as the son of Jupiter.

Frankly, it was a rush. Jason had never wanted to get to know someone so badly before. He wanted to ask Nico how he survived out there on his own, wanted to ask how he trained, how freedom felt.

He had to warn both of them about the prophecy. Jason wasn’t alone anymore, and if he died before his sixteenth birthday— his second sixteenth birthday? Was he already sixteen?—one of them would inherit. It wouldn’t be a fun conversation, but Jason was more and more sure by the day that this prophecy was about their generation. The peace of the world was so fragile right now.

He would do it in the morning. Nico usually stayed for a few days before disappearing again, and Jason didn’t want to interrupt his time with his sister. He would take the two of them to his father’s temple in the morning, show them the fragment of prophecy on the floor. Maybe Nico knew more about it, with how often he was around his father.

Jason would find out tomorrow.

---

He woke up on a school bus somewhere warm and dry with a prickling on the back of his neck that said he shouldn’t be here. The outside world was dangerous, and he had to be vigilant. He had to prepare.

Outside of where, he didn’t know. Vigilant against what, he didn’t know.

He was running out of time on a clock he couldn’t read, and he was afraid.

#mj talks #my writing #jason grace #hoo #hey y'all remember how i said i had 3 wips from this past week alone #this is one of them #i would feel bad tagging this as jasico bc it's so light on ship content but just know in your heart that it is #i KNOW this isn't my usual quality i KNOW shut UP i haven't written anything since i posted that thalia oneshot #i am getting back into writing but it has been a while #it feels good to do though :)#anyway. i have many thoughts about jason grace and you're gonna hear them all #expect more writing soon and if i do not deliver yell at me about it #SHIT I ALMOST FORGOT MY JASON TAG #my boy

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thepeakygurl · 4 years

Text

Requested Scenario

A/N: A bit longer than I expected, so I decided to leave it in a cliffhanger. If someone wants a part two, please let me know. I hope you like it @haphazardhufflepuff and sorry for the delay✨✨

Love and Betrayal

Finn Shelby x Sister!Reader | Isaiah Jesus x Sister!ShelbyReader

Prompt: Y/N is Finn’s twin. Her and Isaiah are in a relationship and you are now pregnant, but Finn is not aware of the relationship between you two, so when he finds out things get a bit physical.

Warnings: Mention of violence and foul language.

Being in love was something that you didn’t entirely desire, this was until your eyes met Isaiah’s. You always knew each other, growing up together you ended up seeing him as one of the Shelby, someone close to a brother. However, one day when the two of you were left alone at the house, you finally saw him. He was no more the guy you used to chase and pull a fight with. He was a man, that was looking at you like no one ever did before. His dark eyes looking at yours, clear blue, as they were the best piece of art he had ever seen and that was the moment you craved for love. Isaiah did too, he craved to receive and to give the same burning feeling he had inside of him and he knew right away that, what was torturing him so much and turning him insane, couldn’t be anything else but love.

A young reckless first love that started in the middle of a Tuesday evening, turned into the best thing in your life. A love that had to be kept a secret in order for it to survive. Feeling Isaiah imperceptibly touching your hand while standing next to you, with the room filled with other people, more importantly the Shelby family, could turned your stomach upside down. The first kiss he gave you, he was so scared to be doing the wrong thing that he barely touched you, but that changed very quickly. After a first taste, Isaiah couldn’t stop but thinking about those lips of yours. The constant fear of being caught just helped the passion grow between you two. The sneaking around was exciting for you, hiding something from your family made you feel finally a grown woman. You didn’t feel like you were betraying them all, but Finn... The guilt of hiding something so important from him, to be in love with his best friend, that was a big shame for you.

But you would’ve gone through with it all over again, because you could never give up on Isaiah, you both went two far, there was not turning back. So you decided to finally tell the truth, all the truth. When Finn came home he was surprised to find you there, lately you’ve been sneaking around a lot and he noticed, he knew you were up to no good, but he also knee that if you were doing anything that would have serious repercussions you would tell him. And perhaps, you did, because when he looked at you he immediately knew something was wrong. “You look like a ghost y/n.” He said while sitting next to you, slowly reaching out to your hand and hold it softly.

You laughed, looking at your hand in his and smiled “There’s something I wanted to tell you for a while now.” you said, your voice shaking made him hold your hand a bit tighter as if he was telling you that you were safe, that you could talk to him.

“I knew you were up to no good lately.” he said and shook is head but smiled “It’s me and you, you can tell me everything you know.”

And you nodded, if you were going to tell something to anyone it would have been Finn, he wasn’t just your twin brother, your bond was beyond blood, you shared one soul “I’m always up to no good, it’s part of being a Shelby.” You joked “I.. I met someone, someone I’m really fond of and that really, really cares about me” you said looking at him and despite your fear of being judged, he was still smiling.

“That’s good eh” he said, really happy to know that you at least were able to find someone for yourself “Who’s the loser then? It’s better if I do the talk.” He said referring to their older brothers that were not exactly well mannered when it came to this kind of issue. And here you froze, you were the one now trying to hold his hand and that made him raise an eyebrow, you looked at him, scared and looking for comfort, but he didn’t know how to give it to you since he didn’t know just yet what was the problem “Y/n, who is it?” He asked again this time his voice was not calm.

“Promise me you will try to understand” you begged.

“Stop pissing me off, who the fuck is it?” He quickly replied and he stood up, ready for anything that could have come out of your mouth.

“Finn, promise it”

“I’m not promising shit. Who the fuck is it?” Again, this time he raised his voice “You are going to tell me now or you are going to tell Arthur and Thomas” he said as a threat, which is this case was really a big threat.

“Isaiah.” You whispered, such a small and imperceptible whisper that you barely heard yourself “Isaiah.” You said again, but this time you heard yourself and so did he.

He stood her looking at you. His cheeks now deep red where telling you that he was trying to contain himself. “You are joking eh?” He said, you could tell by his eyes that he felt betrayed and he did. Finn felt sick as soon you said his name. His best friend, the guy he trusted the most was now your lover? “Please tell me you are fucking joking and that you didn’t fuck my best friend”

“It’s not about the sex you idiot.” you said and stood up now “How dare you? Do you really think so low of me?”

“I do not! I think low of him! The man is garbage! Do you know what we do when we go to London?” Finn he screamed at you, making you question if he was indeed the best person you could have gone to seek help.

“We love each other” you proceed saying. You knew about London, you knew what kind of life Isaiah did before you, after all you were friends before anything else.

“What the fuck do you know about love?”

“Well, what the fuck do you know about us” And that come back made him more frustrated than ever. He took a deep breath and quickly put on his jacket. “Where are you going?” You asked, but received no response from him, he instead proceeded and got out of the house so you followed him “Finn wait, let’s talk about this”

“Apparently we can’t because you are in love and all that darned crap” he said pulling your hand off his arm that was trying to take him back in the house “Let’s see what you prince charming has to say about this”. Finn heart was aching. Both his friend and his sister made a fool out of him.

All the way to the pub you tried to convince Finn to go back, that you didn’t want him and Isaiah to fight, but he wasn’t listening. If anything all this talk of yours made him angrier. When arrived at the pub his eyes went straight looking for Isaiah and when he saw him drinking and laughing with some coworkers, he rushed to him and he grabbed him by the collar of his shirt “Easy man” Isaiah said, almost laughing at him. He was tipsy and honestly amused by all the rage that Finn was throwing at him, so out of his character. However when he saw you, quickly rushing towards the too of them he fell all the alcohol he had drank leaving his body and he soon after realise what was happening “Finn, I can expla-“ but Finn didn’t let him finish as he punched him straight in the face making him fall on the ground.

You gasped, you have never seen Finn like that, so angry and impulsive and that made you feel so sad. So sad that you made him like this.

“You fucked my sister?!” He screamed at him, on the ground Isaiah was trying to clean the blood coming out of his nose and again Finn didn’t give him time to speak and he kicked him on the stomach, making him moan out of pain.

“Finn it’s enough!” You yelled at him, incapable of making a move towards him to stop him. Looking at Isaiah bleeding and aching broke your heart, slowly some tears started to run on your cheeks.

“Fuck Finn...” Isaiah moaned out, trying to stand up and he succeeded “I fucking love her, it’s not just sex” he dared to say, he looked over to you trying to smile to let you know that it was okay. He was not going to fight him back, he knew that he messed up and that forgiveness was too soon to seek.

But those words, those big words Isaiah said made Finn took out his gun and pointing it to Isaiah’s head “Dont you dare say those words” he said, now his voice was trembling a bit “How fucking dare you? After all we did for you and your family?” But they both now Finn rage didn’t have anything to do with what the Shelby did for Isaiah, for Finn it was his best friends going behind his back.

“I’m pregnant” you yelled, unnecessary are the pub was now in a deep silence and only Finn and Isaiah’s voices were raised.

Finn almost let the gun fell out his hand and Isaiah, he almost fell himself. Now, that was going to be another big talk to have.

#isaiah #isaiah jesus #isaiah jesus x reader #isaiah jesus x y/n #isaiah x reader #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders fandom #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fluff #finn shelby #finn shelby x reader

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greatbigbellies · 3 years

Text

New commission story. This is an anonymous commission about a dysfunctional couple who wind up pregnant with sextuplets! Contains heavy multiples pregnancy, stuffing, humiliation, and discomfort.

They had been dating for three months, and living together for one, and Morgan was already at his wits end. Lilith, his girlfriend, was lovely, and sweet, and pretty, and all the things he wanted in a girl… but she was also ungodly frustrating because of one reason, and one reason only: she refused to do ANYTHING that might be considered work.

She was between jobs, hadn’t so much as taken out the trash, and still hadn’t unpacked from moving in with Morgan! Now he made good money. Morgan could support the two of them and then some, and he didn’t want a maid for a girlfriend, but what he did want was some backup. Coming home from work every day to see Lilith sitting on the couch playing videogames, with a sink full of dirty dishes, a can full of trash, and a pile of takeout containers was absolutely grating.

So finally, he hatched a plan. Something almost cartoonishly vindictive, but it had to be done, as far as Morgan was concerned. He’d ruin her. He’d knock her up, stuff her full of food, and watch her inflate like a balloon. If she wasn’t going to move, then he’d make her physically incapable of moving! Multiples ran in both of their families, so with any luck, she’d land pregnant with more than one. He also did all of the cooking. ALL of it. So sneaking fertility meds into her meals wouldn’t be too difficult either, he’d decided. And so, his campaign of corpulence began.

13 Weeks

“Nrrrrggghhh… come ON! Damnit!” Lilith swore as she attempted to button her favorite jeans. They had been holding up well through the first trimester, stretching with her skin, but that was starting to change. Of course, a lot had changed in the last 3 months… she’d found herself pregnant, with SEXTUPLETS no less, and was dealing with the ramifications poorly. She’d been stress eating a lot, something Morgan had been enabling quite a bit, and her tummy was already showing some growth. Both from food and babies, her waistline had a definite visible baby bump, and her belly button was flattened and preparing to pop.

“What’s wrong?” asked Morgan as he stepped into the room, a smile in his voice. He looked to see her wearing just jeans and a bra, fighting with the waistline of her pants. “I’m too big for my favorite pair of jeans! These have the cute patches in them!” she lamented. “Oh babe...” he trailed off, circling around to her front. He pulled something out of his pocket and knelt down. She eyed him suspiciously, not sure where he was going with this. He revealed the item to be a thin rubber band, which he stuck through the button hole and wrapped both ends around the base of the button. “Voila!” he grinned. She frowned in return. “Really? A rubber band? They’re not buttoned properly, people will judge me!” “Babe, we’re just going to the mall, it’ll be fine, now put a shirt on and do your makeup so we can get going!” he urged. “Are we going by JCPenny’s to get me a bigger wardrobe?” she asked. Morgan had turned to leave but stopped at the question. He had to think of an excuse quickly.

“Not yet…” he said. “But I’ll get my quarterly bonus soon, then we’ll go clothes shopping then!” he lied. She crossed her arms and glared at him, somewhat temperamental from pregnancy hormones. “You’re really going to make me walk around with unbuttoned pants and a top that rides up because you want to wait for a bonus?!” he grumped. He rolled his eyes and sighed. “We can’t be all willy-nilly with money anymore, Lilith, we have six kids on the way!” he retorted. Her face tightened, then softened. He was right. She rubbed her tummy and sighed. “Yeah, okay, what’s like… one more week with tight clothes? Your bonus is coming in soon right?” He nodded, “Any day now,”

20 weeks

7 more weeks came and went, and Lilith saw no sign of that bonus… or her feet. Now looking full term with one baby, Morgan had been doing a number on her figure. All of the weight seemed to gravitate to her midriff, and so her tummy grew both with child and with a thin layer of fat. Still despite the small wrapping of chub, her bellybutton managed to work its way into a full fledged outie, about as big around as her thumb.

She sat on the couch in her usual spot, playing a first person shooter on the console, but it didn’t feel the same anymore. She’d gotten in an argument with Morgan before he went to work. A conversation about job prospects got ugly when Morgan pointed out she was too visibly pregnant for anyone to hire her. “Get comfy babe,” he’d said, almost mockingly, “You’re not going anywhere for a while,” There was some yelling, and swearing, and Morgan ended up stomping out the door, it was an all around rotten day.

That was, until the door opened, to reveal Morgan carrying what had to be $40+ dollars in takeout from Lilith’s favorite restaurant. “Oh my god, babe, what’s all this?” she asked, turning to watch him. “I felt bad about our fight earlier, so I bought enough food to keep you and the babies happy, as a gesture of good will,” he explained. “Oh, honey, that’s so sweet of you, but I already had dinner! I-” “All the better!” he cut her off. “You’re eating for seven now, and the doc said to let you eat as much as you could, so…” he set the bags on the coffee table beside her. Morgan smiled down at Lilith, looking at her with those cold steel blue eyes. Lilith brushed some of her bright blue hair behind her ear and broke eye contact. “I don’t know hon… that’s a lot of food there…” she trailed off.

Morgan sat next to her, between Lilith and the food, and placed a hand on her bare midriff, running a palm over her stretching skin. “I know it feels like a lot, but this is for the babies! We have to get them up to weight by the time you’re full term, and the only way to do that is to eat everything your stomach can handle,” he explained, somewhat firmly. She sighed, “Yeah, I guess you’re right, for the babies,” she took the first of three heaping takeout containers full of teriyaki chicken, chow mein, and rice, and got to work.

Morgan kept close to make sure she ate every last bite, only getting up to bring her water when she asked for it. The first box went down pretty quickly, her pregnant appetite getting the best of her. The second was remarkably slower, and Morgan could see it filling out her tummy, causing it to push farther out, just slightly. By the time they hit the third box, she was struggling. “Babe I’m too full… I’m done,” she whined in protest. “Nope, you need to finish what you started,” Morgan said, once again rather firmly. “Morgan I’m gonna throw up if I push it any more…” He took the plastic fork and gathered a mix of rice, chicken, and noodles, and slowly delivered it to her mouth. “Just one more bite, for the babies,” he smiled coyly. She begrudgingly took the bite and began chewing, brushing her blue hair out of her sweaty face.

She was the fullest she’d ever felt, her belly feeling overstretched from a combination of growing babies and filled stomach. The pressure radiated from her midriff to make her whole body uncomfortable. She was miserable, and Morgan knew it. He tried not to show his enjoyment, but the truth was this was going better than he could have hoped for. 6 babies would leave her massive, and his mission to stuff her with every calorie under the sun was going smoothly. At this rate, they’d need a bigger bed to both fit on, an expense he was more than willing to make happen.

33 weeks

Lilith’s flip-flops pattered against her feet as she waddled toward the mall food court, moving as quickly as she could, which admittedly wasn’t very quick at all in her state. Wearing shorts that were stretched to capacity, held up with Morgan’s rubber band trick, and a “PINK” tank top that functioned more as a bra than anything else, she blushed red as she made her way. Everyone, from the young to the elderly, stared at her, or more specifically, her massive, mountainous middle. She was rivalling octomom in size, and the bigger she got, the more Morgan found excuses to take her out. He held her hand and tugged her along, leading the charge to the burger joint.

“Babe everyone is staring! I want to go home!” she hissed at him. He turned to give her a side-eyed look and hiss back “You’ll be fine. Now come on, the babies are hungry!” the pair rounded a corner and Lilith came face-to-face with her highschool BFF. Gwen. “Lilith?” she asked, recognizing the hair color. “Y-yeah…” stammered Lilith. Morgan beamed. “Oh my god! Girl you didn’t tell me you were preggers!?” Gwen smiled and circled around to give Lilith a genuine hug. The two girls looked to Morgan, Gwen with excitement, and Lilith with embarrassment. “And Morgan, you’re looking suave as usual,” Gwen smiled. Morgan smirked. “Why thank you,” Gwen turned her attention to Lilith’s pendulous belly, “Gosh I wondered why I haven’t heard from you in months!? When’s the baby shower? I wanna spoil this little…” she trailed off… “These little… guys?” she asked. “We don’t know the sexes yet-” Lilith was cut off “In about a month and a half, we’re going to have lots of fun little games centered about this tank right here,” Morgan gave Lilith’s belly a hearty pat, “So tell all your girlfriends they’re invited, cause it’s going to be big!” he grinned. Lilith shot him a radioactive death glare, but he ignored it, his plans already in motion. “Okay! I gotta run cause I can’t be late for an interview but I’ll catch up later! Bye hon!” she said, running off.

“Bye… Gwen…” Lilith shot another look at Morgan. “What the hell was that?! We’re NOT having a babyshower!” “Says you,” Morgan smirked. He proceeded to pile it on, “But your friend was so excited! Are you really going to dash her hopes like that? She just wants to spend time with you,” Lilith pouted, “I… guess so…” her response was cut off by a deep rumbling from her tummy. Morgan shot her a mischievous grin and took her hand again, continuing their trek.

Seeing as she was too big to fit in the booths, Morgan sat Lilith down at one of the chairs, and went off to order. She could feel all eyes on her as she placed a hand on her tummy to try to calm the movement she felt deep inside. What was in reality only a few minutes felt like hours as she waited for Morgan to return with the food. She was happy when she heard him approach, but was upset at what she saw him carrying. “That’s six burgers!?” she whisper-yelled incredulously. “Yeah, one for each baby!” stated Morgan, matter-of-factly. “I’m not about to pig out in front of all of these people!?”

Morgan’s smile dropped when she said that. “Are you really going to let the stares of a few strangers deny food for your babies? OUR kids?” Lilith sighed. “Well… no, but can we take this home?” her tummy rumbled again in protest. “I don’t think they can wait,” Morgan whispered. “F-fine… but when I’m full I’m stopping,” she sighed. Morgan placed both hands on the firm, warm front of her belly, feeling her popped bellybutton under his right palm. “You’ll stop when THEY’RE full, alright?” Lilith looked down at herself. Her massive, bloated, overly pregnant self, and sighed. “Yes dear,”

She picked up the first juicy, tender steakburger he’d gotten her, and took a huge bite. The food itself actually tasted great, the mustard, tomato, and pickles. She had been craving pickles today, she just didn’t want to admit it. One by one, each burger disappeared into her huge pregnant gut, eliciting happy kicks from its occupants. Morgan smiled as he watched her. These burgers would have given her trouble a month ago, but now? Her stomach was stretched, her babies were hungry, and she had the capacity to be a professional speed-eater, all thanks to him.

Lilith was enamored by the tastiness of the burgers, she was downing one after another, about 40 seconds a piece. She was starting to get embarrassed though. The way Morgan was grinning at her… the way the other mall goers were just… staring. She was a big, fat, pregnant spectacle… and she hated it. She felt a *pop* from the front of her shots and her heavy belly lurched forward slightly, and she knew what had happened. “Uh oh, babe,” Morgan said loudly. “Looks like that rubber band wasn’t strong enough against your belly. I guess you were right,” he shrugged. Lilith’s cheeks burned with bright red embarrassment, but she kept eating, pretending not to hear him.

She jumped slightly as she felt his hand touch her bare tummy, rubbing it gently. “Now isn’t this better? Eating to your stomach’s content?” she swatted at him and pointed to the nearby slushy stand. “Cherry,” she grunted through a mouthful of food. “Whatever you say,” he slipped away. In reality, she just wanted some space from him. Ever since she found out she was pregnant, he’d been so clingy, spending every spare moment with her, making her eat and drink. “For the babies” had become as commonplace as breathing, she felt like, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was doing this all on purpose.

Her thoughts were interrupted by his quick return. “They were out of cherry, so I got you tiger’s blood,” he said, handing her the 44 oz drink. She swiped it form him with one hand, and polished off the sixth and final burger with the other. She felt heavy. Well… heavier, as the six greasy sandwiches settled in her gut. 7 more weeks… then she’d be due, and this would all be over.

39 weeks

Morgan had made good of his promise. He threw a baby shower, and Lilith was the center of attention, despite her wishes. Gwen, along with four other friends of theirs, had come to the party, and despite the relatively small gathering, Lilith felt absolutely smothered. She sat in her usual spot, in the center of the couch, and she was surrounded by her physically close, if not emotionally close friends. Her tummy had absolutely ballooned, and she was so big she couldn’t reach her popped navel anymore. While she’d stayed relatively free of stretchmarks, red and purple veins made themselves known on her shiny, overstretched skin. Her underbelly hung between her legs, which were forced to spread to make room for her massive mound of a womb.

No matter what she did, how much she complained, or what she threatened, Morgan would not buy her maternity clothes. Her belly hung proudly on display for all to see, weather she liked it or not. This had become so much more apparent during the shower. While Morgan brought food and drinks for all, Lilith sat planted on the couch, cooed at and touched like a walking petting zoo. She felt like she couldn’t go 10 seconds without a hand brushing against her belly, and the visible motion from the sextuplets inside did not help. “You’re positively glowing!” They all said. “You exude motherhood!” “I hope I look as good as you when I’m pregnant!” she hated all of it.

She snapped out of her surly stupor when she heard Gwen address her by name. “Lilith, I haven’t seen you covered up once this whole pregnancy! What made you decide to go belly-out the whole time?” Lilith forced a grin, “Well, Morgan had a LOT to do with it,” she replied, mentally grinding her teeth. “You’re just so brave, like it’s such a powerful look! You’re like ‘look out world, pregnant mama coming through’!” Gwen laughed, resting a hand on the side of Lilith’s gargantuan midriff. Morgan stepped into the room with some sort of plastic box. “You girls ready for another game?” he asked. Lilith turned red, the last game had been all about guessing the measurement of her waistline. All the guests had estimated her bigger than she was, and Morgan made a big show of measuring her, having a hard time getting the tape measure all the way around. 72 inches. She was 72 inches around. She was bigger around than she was tall. She almost cried at the realization.

Morgan opened the box to reveal a rainbow of different body paints and brushes, “You all get to belly paint!” Every girl there except for Lilith beamed with excitement. The various paints and brushes were snatched up lightening fast, and before she realized fully what was happening, Lilith was surrounded by five women all kneeling around her and applying paint to her overstretched, pregnant skin. Lilith couldn’t see what was being painted on her due to her sheer size, but she could only imagine how awful and embarrassing it would all look. Morgan already had his camera out, taking pictures.

Shivers went down her spine as Lilith felt the bristles and thick paint run over her sensitive bellybutton, Gwen giggling as she ran the brush up and down. Lilith felt so embarrassed, so large was her middle that she could be used as five canvases at once! Her face turned redder and she frowned as Morgan snapped shot after shot of her massive, bare tummy.

As time passed Lilith grew increasingly agitated. The sensation of paint brushes on her belly was absolutely grating, and the feeling of dry paint caking on the skin wasn’t helping either. She realized she was getting hungry, which was only souring her mood more. She felt her stomach gurgle and saw Morgan’s eyes light up. He as attuned to the sound of her rumbling tummy like a shark to blood, Lilith could tell he had something planned for this event in particular. Her belly rumbled again, this time louder, and the girls started to notice. “Damn girl, we gotta get you fed!” said Gwen, patting the belly. “You must be dying over there!” Lilith shook her head, “No, no I’m fine, I just need-” “Some cake!” beamed Morgan as he carried in a triple layer devils food cake. Lilith gulped.

“Gosh Morgan you treat her so well!” said one of the girls. “Anything for my girl!” he replied, setting the cake on the shelf of her belly. Lilith’s pleading eyes met Morgan’s powerful gaze, and she knew he was about to make her pig out. Right here. In front of all of her friends. He took a seat next to her on the couch, grabbed a fork, and scraped off a big mouthful. “Say Ahh,” he whispered. The girls went back to talking amongst themselves and painting, and Lilith was feeling pinned down by the weight of her sextuplet belly, and triple layer cake. She winced, and took the bite. “There… for the babies,” Morgan said, getting another forkful.

Bite after bite went down and Lilith could feel the brushes on her tummy slow down until nobody was painting anymore. All eyes were on her. She chewed and swallowed bite after bite of the sickeningly sweet cake, the frosting getting on her face and the top of her belly. She felt a couple of hands start feeling up her belly again as she pushed past the halfway mark of the cake.

It was so heavy and rich, and Lilith could feel every bite of it go right to her midriff. The babies began to stir and kick, which only landed more hands on her tummy. Bite. Chew. Swallow. Bite. Chew. Swallow. It became almost rhythmic as she entered a food induced trance. She could faintly hear the girls saying things like “wow, she can really put it away,” and “Is she going to stop?” and “I think I feel her belly getting tighter!”, but she was lost to the caloric intake and sheer, painful embarrassment.

She only came to when the cake stopped coming. When she had eaten it all. Gwen clapped for her. Morgan gave her a kiss on the cheek to congratulate her. Everyone else kept their hands on her belly. “She gets real strong cravings for chocolate sometimes,” Joked Morgan, the other girls giggling at her expense. Moran got his camera back out. “Smile!” he said, mockingly, as he snapped a photo.

A perfect shot of Lilith, 39 weeks pregnant with six babies, her belly bare, resting between her legs. Her tummy was covered in little paint doodles of flowers, trees, landscapes, and stick figure families, except for the top shelf, which was stained brown from the smeared chocolate. Her mouth was open as she breathed heavily through it, feeling ready to burst. Morgan sat down next to her again, and showed her the picture on the camera’s display screen. “This is you babe!” he laughed. “This is what you really are!”

#writing #not bellies #commissions #anonymous

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takoyakitenchou · 3 years

Text

masquerade ch.8

7? idk but this one isn’t on ff or ao3 yet i think

12:58 PM Nakiri Erina: Hi, it’s been a while. Are you free the day after tomorrow?

1:03 PM Yukihira Souma: how’d u get this #?

1:04 PM Nakiri Erina: Alice gave it to me.

1:04 PM Yukihira Souma: sup

1:05 PM Nakiri Erina: I’m opening Kiralyno Haza. It’s not like I want you to show up or anything.

message opened

1:37 PM Nakiri Erina: Hello?

2:40 PM Yukihira Souma: hey sorry i just got on break. congrats nakiri!

2:41 PM Nakiri Erina: It was expected.

2:41 PM Yukihira Souma: surprised it took you so long to open. hurry up and get your 3 stars bubs then we’ll really see who’s the better chef

2:41 PM Yukihira Souma: and did you get tired of shinomiya or did he get tired of you?

2:42 PM Nakiri Erina: I got tired of him. Duh. Are you not coming?

2:42 PM Yukihira Souma: save 4 seats for me. i’ll be a balloon by the time im done w your food also i hope you have enough ingredients for a shokugeki after

“Ugh. You’re as shit at texting as ever,” Erina groaned, throwing down her phone, but then she picked it up again to stare at those four particular characters. Bubs. God, it had been so long since she’d seen that in her messages.

(under the cut to see souma and erina start to get their shit together lol)

To think that she had been the one to break the radio silence between them — good lord, that was fucking annoying. It was weird to think about. There had been plenty of opportunities for them to talk again, and yet they’d somehow managed to evade each other since they’d run into each other at Nakiri Mansion. Whether this was coincidence she had no idea, but Souma hadn’t been at the official Totsuki-sponsored 92nd gen alumni reunion, and Shinomiya had dragged Erina to some culinary conference that made her miss the freshman training camp where Souma threatened the living shits out of the poor first years but ended up not cutting anybody from the roster.

Erina had done her best not to linger on the fact that she had had to ask Alice for Souma’s new number, but goddamn would that remain at the forefront of her mind for the week following Kiralyno Haza’s debut until she got frustrated enough to the point where she damn near chucked her own phone out the window.

It was thanks to Alice that her condo was still in one piece.

The COO of the Nakiri-Totsuki Group was sitting next to her at a bar in Budapest, helping herself to her third shot of tequila, a few empty glasses and a growing tab between them. “Yukihira’s coming?”

Erina nodded, smiling despite herself. “Yeah. I guess he is.”

Taking sudden interest in her drink, Alice remained silent for a thoughtful moment before she said, “I haven’t seen you this happy since you two broke up.”

With a half-hearted huff, Erina scoffed, “Yeah, right.”

Alice gave her a long look. “I’m not kidding, Erina. Who was that other guy you were seeing? Darren?”

“Aaron. Darren was before him.”

“Doesn’t he have a 3000-seater concert hall named after him?”

“I couldn’t care less.” Erina said, and Alice knew it was 593% true.

Whenever tolerating a guy got tedious, Erina had extinguished whatever spark he thought he had ignited, pretended to be hung up on it, and started over, systematically breaking hearts left and right, all the while building titanium defenses around her own.

And then, a year and half ago, she’d seen Yukihira Souma at Nakiri Mansion, and everything had changed.

So. Much. Pining. Alice was more than a few years past sick of how long those two idiots were dragging their shit out.

Erina picked up her belongings. “We should probably stop day-drinking.”

“Sure,” Alice said, paying the tab before Erina could get her wallet out.

“I’ll pay you back for that,” Erina promised as they left the bar.

Alice put a hand on Erina’s shoulder. “You can pay me back by not fucking up your confession again.”

At this, Erina frowned. A withering counter should’ve been second nature, but she found herself incapable. She wanted to believe that whatever piece of her heart that had clung to the hope that Yukihira Souma would come back to her was nothing more than a memory. More than anything, she wished the voice at the back of her head telling her to move on and forget him and their past would finally win out, because there were people in her present waiting for her, and it would be a sin to ignore that.

But she couldn’t say the words; her heart belonged to Yukihira Souma — would always belong to him — and all broken promises and relationships notwithstanding, that was something she could not deny.

Although Souma technically hadn’t been invited to the kitchen for shift drinks when the front doors closed, he had taken the liberty of bringing a bottle of cab sauv that he and Erina finished in like ten seconds flat, to hell with sharing with staff, family, and friends.

The second she felt the words wanna come over? slip out of her atmosphere-drunk mouth, she knew it was going to take more self-control than she had not to demand he stay with her forever.

“So, Yukihira,” she said like they hadn’t been catching up for the last two hours when they were sitting on the couch in her living room with pinot noir. “How’ve you been?”

The corners of Souma’s lips twitched. “Not bad,” he replied. “Mostly cooking. A few interviews and shit. I’ve been keeping up with all your stuff, by the way. Three tastings in twelve hours next Monday seems like too much, Nakiri.”

Erina frowned. “Even if you were as talented a stalker as Mimasaka Subaru, how the fuck would you know that?”

He held up his phone. “You were signed into my calendar app when I last downloaded a backup copy four years ago. So every time I get a new phone, I transfer all the old data.”

Erina stared at him, horrified. “Holy shit. You’ve seen everything?”

Shrugging, Souma said, “Not everything. Just… your dates with Darren. And Aaron. Also, I knew about Kiralyno opening before you texted me so I’d already cleared out my schedule by then.”

Erina had stopped listening halfway through. “Wait, Yukihira…”

“It’s okay, Nakiri.” Souma waved it off. “You’re here with me now. All that matters. Let’s not look too far into our past, yeah?”

“Don’t look into my future either, idiot! Sign out of my Google calendar right now!”

Souma shook his head seriously. “Sorry, Nakiri, I don’t think that’s possible.”

“Why the fuck not?”

He gazed at her intently and rested his chin on his fist. “I need to make sure I’ll still be in it.”

Erina rolled her eyes. “Don’t say sappy shit like that. It doesn’t suit you.”

“What if I just stayed?” he asked.

She sighed. “I think the question is, would I even let you? I thought we’re putting the past behind us? Don’t you want this back?” She pointed at the white cloth she was wearing on her wrist. His white cloth.

Souma ignored the second question and pulled Erina to him by her waist, close enough that she could feel his warm breath as he spoke, forehead brushing hers. “Another thing we both know is that you and I could never be just friends.”

“Take your hands off me or I swear I’m either going to spill my wine or kiss you, and I seriously do not care which.”

He leaned back with a sad smile. “You wouldn’t let me stay, would you, Nakiri?”

“I couldn’t,” she said helplessly. “We don’t even know where our lines are.”

“Do we need lines?” Souma asked, finishing his glass and balancing it on his knee. “You and I are beyond this dimension.”

Erina stared at him, memorizing every last square centimeter of his features — the way his hair seemed to get shorter every time they met until he somewhat resembled someone of his culinary pedigree; the way the creases formed on his sleeves along the contours of his toned arms.

“You know, Nakiri, if you let me stay, you wouldn’t have to stare so much.”

She tore her gaze from his collarbone, her whole face turning red. In all her twenty-one years, that had to be the most embarrassing moment of her life. “Shut up! I’m not staring!”

He was watching her with wistful eyes. “I wouldn’t mind if you were…”

And they both heard it.

I wouldn’t mind if you were mine.

#shokugeki no soma #shokugeki no souma #sorina #soueri #yukihira soma #yukihira souma #nakiri erina #CANT BELIEVE THEYRE FINALLY GETTING THEIR SHIT TOGETHER #oh wait #im the one writing this

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silkylious · 4 years

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Funny Way of Saying I Love You (Dabi x Reader)

Pairing: Dabi x Reader Warnings: angst(i have an addiction i swear), fluff Prompts: #9 “That’s a funny way of saying ‘I love you’” and #16 “When have I ever let you down, babe? Okay, don’t answer that”

A/N: Thank you for the request! im taking my time writing these since im physically incapable of writing drabbles. I hope you like this!!

Shutting the door behind you, a soothing dusk breeze fluttered your hair as you moved farther away from your daily hell. Your boss had made it a point to be a pain in the ass today, well, more so than usual. Working overtime on a Friday evening wasn’t what you’d hoped to be doing but you couldn’t exactly complain, it wasn’t like you had anything planned and the promise of an extra paycheck didn’t sound displeasing. Rubbing your temples to ease the headache (courtesy of your boss’s incessant bitching), you walked on autopilot to your apartment, you couldn’t wait to treat yourself to a bubble bath and maybe even some wine. Little did you know that your plans would be thoroughly ruined by a certain scarred villain.

You made the decision to pass by a nearby convenient store that wasn’t too far from your residence to cop some snacks. Filtering through the brands of alcohol, you grimaced at the overpriced tags of the various red wine brands, you settled for some cheap liquor with a sigh. It ain’t much but it should do the trick. After paying for what little stuff you’d fetched, you continued on your trek to your humble flat. The sun had completely vanished from the sky, a lingering crimson bleeding into a rich indigo. Your thoughts were so spellbound by the beautiful sight, that you just barely heard a strained grunt from your left. Blinking back into reality, you halted in your steps right next to a comically shady alleyway. Just like in those horror movies. You snorted at the thought, briefly comparing yourself to that one character who always dies first in movies. Though your internal jesting was cut short when the same sound propagated through the alleyway again, this time much more haggard, closely followed by violent coughing. Against your better judgment, you treaded forward cautiously. Why were you doing this? You weren’t sure. Maybe it was the unfulfilled dream loitering in the back of your mind resurfacing after many years of suppression, but you couldn’t not help someone out in a time of need.

The deeper you ventured into the alleyway, the louder your rationality shouted, begging you to turn around and book it to your apartment complex. You were stopped in your steps when an aggressive cough broke the quiet, the sound now impossibly closer and blood splattered all over the ground before your feet. Your eyes followed the vermilion trail, skinny legs covered in bloodied up, skin-tight jeans came into view, you were met with familiar scarred features. His eyes were struggling to stay open, though at the sight of you he forced his lids apart, flashing you a bloody, half-pained smirk, red liquid running down his scarred tissue.

You blinked. Dabi blinked. You blinked again and then-

“What the shit, Dabi! Are you okay?!”

You dropped to your knees next to his limp body propped up against the shaggy wall. He gave a humorless chuckle, more blood oozing out of the corners of his lips. Dabi hummed when your hands touched his fucked up face, your quirk already pacifying most of his pain. It wasn’t a healing quirk, you were simply able to transfer emotions, feelings and sensations (to and fro) with skin on skin contact. You didn’t want him knocking the fuck out from sheer pain (heaven knows there is no way you were going to lug this human heater home), so you had to ease him a little before tending to his injuries. Your body twitched as the hurt from Dabi’s body merged into your own.

“I’ve seen better days, sweetheart,”

“You don’t say.” The words came out harsh, reprimanding. Dabi winced, from the pain or from your tone, he wasn’t sure.

The plastic bag that had been temporarily abandoned came in handy, you sorrowfully used the liquor to clean the large gashes on his abdomen (not wanting to risk an infection on the way to your complex), wrapping them up securely with scraps of his shirt. So much for a relaxing bath and liquor. You heaved him up on semi-steady knees and took a different, more desolate route back home. The last thing you’d want right now is for authorities to see you walking an injured Dabi, one of the most wanted villains in the current climate, home. He leaned most of his weight on your shoulder, his shit-eating grin told you he was doing it on purpose. You couldn’t find it in you to retaliate as you usually would, too worried to come up with any snarky comments.

This had become way too much of a ritual for your comfort. You’d find him bleeding by your doorstep at ungodly hours, silently asking for shelter. Each and every time, you’d patch him up, provide him with food and your company. You’d grown attached to the scar faced male, and even if you disdained his line of work, you’d respected his life and independence (as independent as someone who crashes on your couch near daily can be). For the past couple months, his tasks had been getting progressively more and more dangerous. Your heart couldn’t help but clench each time you saw him beaten and bruised. You knew it was risky letting these feelings develop, Dabi had made it quite clear that your relationship was nothing beyond physical, with a level of mutual respect and trust.

But this was the worst condition you’d ever seen him in after one of his missions. Not too dissimilar to the first time you met; bloody, bruised and half-conscious, truly a sight to pity. You’d noiselessly knelt down, pressed your hand onto his cheek, he hadn’t even been able to flinch at your touch, too disoriented to react properly. Though in mere moments, he began feeling the pain ebb away; the injuries were still there, he just couldn’t feel them, he equated the numbing sensation to painkillers and drugs. His eyelids parted, revealing gorgeous teal irises. Full of ethereal beauty, despite being unfocused. You had to actively shun your quirk from relaying your attraction to him as you soothed his pain, his staples and marred skin a stark contrast to your soft fingers. That night you gave him a place to stay while he was on the run, you didn’t know why, but you did. Just this one time you’d said. One time became two times. Two times became countless and the rest is history.

The apartment door was slammed open, you were beyond irate. The more you thought about him, his situation, your situation, the more you felt the urge to knock shit over and scream bloody murder. Turquoise hues followed you with contempt – and mild amusement – but mostly contempt. Dabi took his usual spot on your worn-out couch, while you stomped your way into the bathroom to get a first aid kit. With your absence, Dabi was left to his own thoughts running amuck. Dabi wasn’t oblivious. He knew what your silence meant, knew what the look of unbridled worry in your eyes implied. Yet he didn’t want to address the less than subtle growing feelings you have for him. Attachment in his line of work was a surefire way to get hurt, he figured that if he kept whatever relationship you guys had physical, he wouldn’t have any issues to fuss over. But he couldn’t lie to himself, Dabi was conscious of the budding adoration in his heart from the moment you helped him out that first time, in that filthy alley. God, he needed a cigarette.

Much to his pleasure, you came back before his mind could implode in on itself. You sat beside him on the couch, leaving more space between you than usual. Without saying a word, your hands undid his makeshift bandages, slowly but surely patching him up an inch at a time. It honestly felt like a routine at this point. That prompted a sour taste in your mouth, you couldn’t stand how careless he’d been recently, and it was eating you up inside. But you didn’t dare voice your concerns, not wanting another aimless argument with him. If silence would save you another headache inducing fight, then silence it was–

“So, you gonna tell me what crawled up your ass?”

Or not.

“Shut. Up.” You weren’t in the mood for his quips today. Fatigue from work, babysitting a villain and dealing with unrequited feelings severely fouling your otherwise warm attitude. You were just on the brink of throwing caution to the wind and letting loose all the muffled feelings you have for him. One more comment and your composure would shatter. Conveniently – or not so conveniently, he seemed to be in a talkative mood tonight.

“Seriously, what’s up with you?” The question was redundant, he knew exactly what was up with you, but he couldn’t think of anything else. Your quietness was killing him. He had to say something. He should have chosen his words a little more wisely though.

“What’s up with me?! Are you being fucking serious right now?! I come home and almost every day find you bleeding on my doorstep. Almost every day I give your reckless ass a place to stay, only for you to go and get yourself hurt again!” Pent up rage exploded from within you, an amalgamation of emotions gushing out of your pores. His eyes blew wide, not only because he had never seen you this angry, but because of the surge of emotions flooding him. In your fury filled stupor, you’d let go of the tight rein you had on your quirk. With a hand still touching his bruised forearm, you began unintentionally bleeding your feelings into him. Rage, sorrow and worry were just a few of the many emotions that rocked his being. But one stood out among the rest, outshining the others with blinding ferocity. And it honestly scared him, how powerful it was, zapping through his body. He figured you had feelings for him, that much was obvious, but he didn’t think they were that strong. Your breathtaking emotions awakened something in him too, pulling it out of the depths of where he tried to hide it, push it down in hopes of abolishing it.

It was too much to handle this, he kept coming back for help when he could easily seek any of his colleagues out, the implication that you meant something to him was so elating yet so damaging. It kept you stuck in place, barred from shutting him out or walking away. You couldn’t keep hanging onto the hope that he might reciprocate your love. It was harming you, no matter how sensuous he was in bed, no matter how gently he held onto you afterwards, he would never call you his lover. He made that crystal fucking clear. You had to put a stop to this. You leveled your shaky voice as much as your vocal cords would allow, barely whispering.

“Get the hell out, Dabi. I don’t wanna see you here again.”

The emotions sifting through him mellowed out, no longer was rage at the forefront. Pain, hurt and heartbreak ravaged him. But that one emotion was still there, despite him being a gaping asshole, it was still present. He smirked.

“That’s a funny way of saying ‘I love you,’ doll.”

“Wha–“ Before you could question his response, he swiftly captured your lips in his own to shut you up. It was a quick, firm peck, but its aftermath amused him greatly. The look of bewilderment on your face was damn priceless. You were, again, transferring your feelings to him. Adoration, confusion, the overwhelming urge to pimp smack him; it was all too entertaining for him. His vibrant teals settled upon your hand still gripping his arm. No fabric to separate them. Your own eyes followed suit. Oh. You immediately stopped your quirk, redacting your palm in the process for good measure. Dabi delighted in the bashful look that overtook your face, his own growing soft. He had trouble accepting his own feelings, but after experiencing yours, he would, at the very least, try for you. Awkward silence ensued. You both knew it was his turn to talk, to finally let out the unsaid words you’d been longing for.

“(name), I… I wanna do this right, take you out on dates and shit,” He cleared his throat. “If you’d let me.”

Your answer came in the form of a crushing hug. Your love was pouring into him again, this time of your own accord. You held onto each other, his hands biting into your skin, your own carding through his dark locks. You didn’t need words. Figuratively and literally. He felt everything in bright, flashing colors, he never wanted this moment to end. But it did. His phone rang.

Clear annoyance shined in both of your eyes. With a heavy sigh, he left your embrace, getting up to answer the call.

Another mission.

With the very recent revelations both of you had come to, the idea of him going on missions carried a lot more weight than it used to. Now in front of your apartment door, he put on his shoes, ready to head out to the League’s hideout. Dabi turned around, breath hitching when he saw you standing there frowning, eyes tearful. For some reason, you had a gut feeling this mission wouldn’t be so easy. You didn’t want him to go. And it was showing.

“C’mon, baby doll. Don’t give me that look. I’ll be back, I promise,” When you didn’t even crack a smile at the nickname he sighed. “When have I ever let you down, babe?” He quickly backtracked. “Okay, don’t answer that,”

You managed a small giggle, shaking your head. You approached him slowly, silently wrapping your arms around him. You relished in his quickening heartbeat. Pulling back, you placed your hands on his clothed shoulders. You edged forward, puckering your lips against his own, the point of contact allowing you to relay your inner turmoil to him. Your hands itched towards his face, fiddling gingerly with the multiple staples aligning his cheeks. “Come back, okay? I love you.”

Breath caught in his throat, Dabi tried to push the words setting him aflame through his lips, but he couldn’t. This was happening too fast; it was giving him whiplash. He didn’t know how to say those words yet, so he opted for calling out to you.

“(name)…”

Without even using your power, the conflict in his eyes told you everything you needed to know. you pushed your forehead to rest against his. His love burned through you, so intense, so like him. With a tiny tug at your lips, you lulled the raging storm in his mind. “Shh, Dabi. I know.”

With a parting peck, he was out the door. He didn’t know what was to come out of this mission, but he did know that he now had one more reason to come out alive.

#dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #dabi x you #dabi boku no hero academia #dabi my hero academia #bnha dabi #mha dabi #todoroki touya x reader #touya x reader #todoroki toya x reader #dabi fanfic #dabi imagine #someone help why cant i write drabbles ffs #100 followers event

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munozpeter · 3 years

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.・゜-: ✸ :-　𝕡𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕞𝕦𝕟𝕠𝕫　-: ✸ :-゜・．

it don’t have to be

lonely

being alone...

[ BRANDON LARRACUENTE, HE/HIM, CIS MAN ] — [ PETER MUÑOZ ] is a child of [ ATHENA ] with the power of [ STRATEGIST and PROWESS IN BATTLE ] . they were born in [ 1996 ] and have been in nemean lion since [ 2010 ] . with the change, they [ HAVE GRADUATED FROM ] the [ BUSINESS ] role which makes sense since they’re usually [ WORKING AS ASSISTANT MANAGER and HELPING RUN THE CAMPUS ] . if you’d like to meet them try the [ SUN ] building . — strud / she/her / cst / 18+

bio

Peter Muñoz has been in the world of Nemean Lion for over a decade now but before then, he thought he was just a normal kid. Peter grew up with only his father for about half of his childhood in New York City. His father met the goddess Athena when he was in his late twenties, the two stumbling into each other one summer when he was between jobs, trying to figure out his life. They felt like the same side of the same coin in a lot of ways, and quickly fell in love for the summer, and for a handful of years after that, she would come back into his life every summer to breathe love into his life.

His father eventually grew to want to raise a family, but knew he was incapable of ever having a child. The last summer Athena ever spent with him, the goddess told him the truth of who she was, and presented him with a child born of her mind and their shared love. As the son that Peter’s father thought he could never have, the boy grew up extremely loved, cherished, and protected. His father was always there for him, often maybe a little over-bearing, if only because he knew his son was a miracle to him.

Peter grew up a very sharp kid, always bringing home excellent grades. It wasn’t that intelligence necessarily came effortlessly to him, it was that he found himself loving the work, loving the process of learning and growing and couldn’t get enough of it, which always ended up in him being able to master whatever he put his mind to. He was a bit of a nervous kid, the type of nervous that made him want to always have a perfect attendance record and never get into trouble.

He was, by all accounts, a complete nerd in his childhood. He was shy and reserved, and always had his head in a book, and always made sure to have the highest marks. Easily viewed as a softie, he got picked on from time to time, and even once was enough to bother him, though he never fought back. It wasn’t until his first year in middle school, when some bully tried to actually pick a fight with him, that Peter instinctively reacted to defend himself, somehow knowing exactly how this kid was going to strike, and how best to dodge and defend himself, sending the bully tripping over himself and falling on his face. He didn’t think much of it, and it felt good to stand up for himself, but when he told his dad about it, he seemed more worried than proud. It didn’t bother him too much, Peter knew nothing could ever make his dad love him less.

By some form of fate, when Peter was about thirteen, he and his father met Lou Ellen, co-founder of Nemean Lion. She was doing business in New York, and through pure circumstance, quickly became close friends with Peter’s father. They were eventually best friends, and the more time that Lou spent around his young son, the more she realized that she knew exactly what he was. Lou Ellen, a demigod herself, recognized the godly blood in the young boy, and took it upon herself to look after the Munoz’. She revealed herself to Peter’s father, and brought her own daughter, Daphne, around as often as she could, before convincing him that he needed to be able to learn about himself and protect himself and she could help him do that.

Lou Ellen relocated Peter and his father to sunny California, and while Peter continued going to middle school, he began coming to Nemean Lion every weekday like an after-school program. He loved every bit of it, this whole new world that he could delve into, that could explain the questions he’s had in his life, that he could study and research and learn all about to make it all make sense. As much as he loved his old life, and loved the childhood he had with his father, learning about his mother’s heritage felt like the missing piece of his puzzle, and he was never resentful of what was hidden from him, only grateful that he had a chance to see it all now.

Maybe it was so easy to work through it all because he had the help of his friend Daphne, and eventually Dia Paik too, to show him the ropes. The whole place seemed like a new world of people like him in so many ways, and he had both friends and mentors that made his years there so important and formative to him, and Peter began to love the community there much in his youth, that he grew to know he wanted to give all of it back to them too.

After graduating high school, he made the decision to move into NL full time, and his father was honestly relieved, thinking he might move to college out of state. Peter still visited him at any chance he could get, but lived at NL and pursued a business degree while interning at the campus and working his way up through the administration. His best friends eventually moved on, but he knew this was where he wanted to be, that he wanted to help run the facility and look after the future demigods that would walk through their doors.

He’s now in his third year as Assistant Manager to Marina Ren, and as Nemean Lion revealed itself to the world, it was a no-brainer to quickly work his way through the business track and work even harder to make this change as easy on everyone as possible. The campus is his whole life, and Peter loves his job. He’d do anything for the other demigods, and he works himself tirelessly every week. He’s a bit of a stick in the mud and a worry-wart, not exactly the kind of fun, free-spirited mentor that some might hope for. He’s more the anxious busy-body type, almost always working on something, but if you catch him off the clock, he’s more of the soft, kind-hearted boy who just loves to learn and do his best by others.

tl;dr

peter muñoz

son of athena, with prowess in battle and strategist abilities

grew up in nyc in his childhood with a single father all his life who loved him endlessly; the goddess athena had presented his father with a baby after being unable to conceive

eventually met Lou Ellen, co-founder of NL, who recognized what he was and convinced his father to bring him to Nemean Lion, relocating the both of them to california

peter loved everything about his mother’s side, drinking up all this new knowledge of greek mythology, not even caring that it had been hidden from him

loves nemean lion for the second home it became, moved there full time after high school to pursue a business degree and eventually began working for the campus

understanding, earnest, hard-working

anxious, workaholic, stickler

lives in the sun residence

has currently been the assistant manager for three years, loves his job, would do anything for NL and the demigods in its care, needs to relax every once in a while

connections

Daphne Saengmai & Dia Paik— his best friends from childhood; the two girls have been in his life since before he started coming to Nemean Lion, and they watched over him and helped to show him the ropes; he was sad to see them go on their own journeys into adulthood, and now Peter is extremely happy to have them back at NL and work together with them again

Jae Eun (& Charlie Eun)— Jae is probably his least favorite person on Earth; his human sister, Charlie, began visiting NL a handful years ago, and before either knew it, she and Peter began to hit it off, much to Jae’s overprotective hatred; Peter and Charlie eventually ended up dating for a while, and he was fully in love with her, before they broke up about a year ago due to circumstance; Charlie is still a sore spot to him, and he and Jae will always be at odds because of it

Oliver Armstrong— very good friend and roommate; Oliver is the kind of softly energetic spirit that meshes well with Peter and he’s grateful to have a roommate and friend that can both make him feel at ease and bring out the lighter, more relaxed side of him

Marina Ren— his manager; he works directly under Marina and has looked up to her since he was a kid at NL; they both care very deeply about the campus and he’s honestly really honored to get to work alongside her

wanted

mentor/mentee— either form would work, Peter probably goes to great lengths to care for the other demigods, and if any of them needed any extra help or attention, he’d be there for them; anyone older or his age might look after him too

any type of friends— though more reserved and anxious, Peter is still very friendly and kind and would make friends with anyone who can get over how lame he is!

not friends— as stated just now, he’s also pretty lame so maybe someone is annoyed easily by him; also he takes his job seriously and will stop any tomfoolery so maybe you can also be annoyed at what a stick in the mud he is!

feelings? ex-fling?— listen this idiot was really hung up on Charlie Eun for a long time, so maybe he never noticed if anyone else every had a thing for him? also it’s been a while since the break-up so maybe he’s tried to venture into the dating scene again and tried something out with someone that maybe didn’t work? he also always throws himself into work so that might have gotten in the way too. he’s very soft he wouldn’t have tried to hurt anyone on purpose but Peter’s a mess ok

anything!— we should all know by now I suck at making connections in an intro so just hmu and we can figure something out! discord works best <3

#nlintro #it only took me forever :)#anyway this is my soft son who's supposed to be somewhat in charge pls love him he's a mess sometimes :')#strong dad friend energy

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