#I’m just whipped basically this post is me saying I am pathetic and in love and whipped 🫶 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

safertokiss · 3 years

Text

Lost in Translation

A/N: Heyyyyy guys...remember when I used to post like every two weeks? Yeesh that’s awkward...but I’m backkkkk woooooooo party time! I was so excited that my discord buddies organized another fic swap because it was so much fun the first time. This time around I was chosen to write a doozy for the wonderful @writing-in-april and I have decided to bless you all with a beautiful subby boy. Sub Spencer lives in my head rent free, no cap. So sit back, relax and pretend it's you getting fricken railed. Peace out girl scouts;)

Pairing: SPENCER x READER

Category: SMUT hehe oh yeah and fluff

Word Count: 4.8k

ENJOY:)

~~~

MASTERLIST

~~~

For as long as she could remember, Y/n had always wanted to learn Russian.

So, naturally, when she found out that their newest case involved two lovers who also happened to be Russian criminals trying to escape the United States government, she simply couldn’t help but jump at the opportunity to become more involved in the investigation.

It’s not that she’d never been on a stakeout for the Bureau before, in fact she’d probably been on so many at this point that she’d lost count. The only difference that this specific stakeout brought to her life was the fact that it was her first one to have ever been shared with Spencer Reid.

Her and the young doctor had lived in the same apartment building since her first day at the BAU, but their relationship pretty much began and ended at that. Of course they greeted each other whenever they passed in the halls of their building and ricocheted off of each other’s theories whenever necessary during their meetings in the round table room, but it would be a lie to label their relationship as anything other than casual acquaintances as well as amicable coworkers.

She had never been able to fully get a grasp on the elusive Dr. Reid. The fact that he was already such an integral member of the F.B.I. at the ripe age of 25 astounded and, well to be honest, perplexed her. Not that she doubted his abilities or intelligence in any way, quite the opposite really. She admired how utterly brilliant he proved to be day in and day out, even with the shy exterior he presented himself with to the world. Well, shy was definitely more of an understatement.

She had never met someone more socially awkward in her entire life, but with that being said, she couldn’t help but find it endearing and pretty dang adorable. Y/n constantly found herself enjoying his pathetic attempts at human interaction on a daily basis. From the nervous stutters to the out of this world hand gestures, there was much for her to dissect about the young doctor. And while she could openly admit that he was quite easy on the eyes, in a boyish-innocent kind of way, she had never really been able to see him in that sort of light.

If she thought his normal social interaction skills were entertaining to witness, his reactions to any of the conversations that took a more raunchy turn were to die for. The speed at which his features would ripen red like a tomato whenever anything of a sexual nature was brought up during cases was truly amazing, impressive even. However, unlike the rest of their team, she knew he wasn’t completely innocent. The walls in their apartment were as good as paper when it came to thickness, so it wasn’t that big surprise that the sounds created within them carried fairly well.

Or at least that was what she had discovered after the first night she heard him touching himself just through her bedroom wall.

Yes, it was less than ideal that their bedroom walls just happened to be adjacent to each other, but what could she do about it? It wasn’t as though she never sought out her own pleasure while alone in her apartment...although she would bet money that she was much better at withholding her noises. Instead, she learned to adapt to the sounds from next door and continue on with her life, having accepted that guys will in fact be dudes, no matter how innocent and meek they may appear.

When her boss had explained the nature of the assignment to them, there wasn’t anything of significance that had jumped out at her. It was all pretty standard instruction. They would wait, parked, in a government issued SUV overnight at a location close to the whereabouts of the criminals and simply translate their conversations using the mics that were planted prior. While Hotch knew that Y/n herself couldn’t understand Russian, it was common knowledge that the resident genius easily could transcribe the language.

And that was how she found herself cramped next to Spencer Reid in the stagnant vehicle, pen and paper in hand, patiently waiting for the translations to begin.

It was almost completely silent inside the car, apart from the quiet whirring of the heat coming through the vents, and she could basically feel the nerves coming off of the man next to her in waves. That’s why she was completely thrown off her game when his timid voice was the first to break through the silence that had encompassed the space they inhabited together.

“So um Y/n..h-how have you been recently?”

She did her best to hide the small smirk that started to form on her face from the stuttering mess that spilled out of his mouth. She definitely didn’t want to make him feel even worse about himself so she decided to humour his adorable attempt at conversation with her...well...sort of.

“Oh ya know Reid, just counting the days until I get some action. How about you?” If she thought he was sputtering nervously before, that was nothing compared to this treasure.

“Oh um well uh I-I mean...I don-I don’t...uh...w-what was the question a-again?”

This time she couldn’t stop the airy chuckle that escaped her lips as she leaned over and patted him gently on his thigh.

“Relax Reid, I’m just fucking around with you. Well for the most part...I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to some action, but that’s a whole can of worms I am not about to open during a stakeout”, Y/n laughed, not at all missing the steadily spreading blush that coated his sharp features.

“Yeah...no..yeah right of course...I t-totally knew you were just um fu-messing with me! Uh we should probably um r-review our assignment...you know just so we’re all s-set before we start.” How adorable.

“Aye-aye captain Reid. Ok so..”, she muttered while fiddling with the listening device to secure the right frequency. “...we just have to wait until they get back so we’re in range of their conversations. That’s when you’ll have your time to shine and prove yourself as the resident genius once again. And I’m sure that you’re aware that I don’t know a lick of the Russian language so I will be the best damn transcriber for you that the world has ever seen”, she finished with a smirk.

Even Reid chuckled a bit at her words, the ever-present blush slowly creeping back upon his face and neck.

“I’ll uh-I’ll hold you to that then.” Y/n had to admit she particularly liked to see the boy smiling, especially when it was the result of her own words. His innocence seemed to call out to her like a siren and she didn’t know how to feel about it.

“Oh-oh there they are! Ok get the pen and paper ready because as soon as they’re in range I’ll start translating.”

Getting themselves situated, they waited the few seconds it took for the couple to get close enough to the vicinity of the SUV for their conversations to begin to be broadcasted through their system.

“Как вы думаете, они идут по нашему следу?”

“Do you think they’re on our trail?”, Spencer easily understands, leaning slightly closer to her so his words were clearly heard.

“Ни за что. У этих глупых американцев нет шансов поймать нас.”

“No way. Those stupid Americans don’t stand a chance at catching us.”

At this point, the couple had already disappeared behind the door at the entrance of their current base, leaving only their words to give the closely listening agents much needed context clues.

“Я когда-нибудь говорил тебе, как сильно мне нравится твоя уверенность?”

“Have I ever told you how much I love your confidence?”

Even Spencer let himself smile at the chuckle that left Y/n’s lips. “Awww how cute...they’re flirting with each other over mass murder. I strive for that kind of intimacy.”

“Да у тебя есть. Но почему бы тебе не показать мне, насколько тебе это нравится.”

“Yes, you have. But why don’t you show me just how much you love it.”

Uh oh, Y/n thought to herself. Not a second after the untimely thought permeated her brain, the sounds of wet lips sloppily colliding against each other filled the otherwise silent vehicle. After the few seconds of shock wore off, their heads whipped to face each other, eyes wide and mouths wide open. “Huh...well this was certainly an unexpected turn.”

“I uh um-uh well w-what do we do now?”, Tomato Boy nervously sputtered out over the chorus of moans and groans that were currently bouncing off the SUV’s walls. As unexpected as the present situation was, she was absolutely eating up his reaction to the crude sounds.

“Well, Hotch did say he wanted us to take down every single word that was shared between them so...I guess we’re just gonna have to keep moving forward with the translations. You can do that, can’t you Reid?”, she explained, not even attempting to hide the growing smirk on her face.

“Yeah! Yes! Mhmm I can do that, I c-can definitely do t-that.”, he gushed, trying to subtly clear his throat to clear the steadily growing tension in his body.

“Good to hear, Doc.”, she cheekily replied just as the raunchy sounds echoing through the system transitioned to different methods of communication, more legible ones.

“Ты была для меня такой хорошей девочкой. Я думаю, ты заслуживаешь награды.”

Quickly clearing his throat once more, he jumped back into action, with what Y/n noticed was considerably less confidence than before. “You’ve b-been such a good g-girl for me. I think you deserve a r-reward.” Spencer’s voice had noticeably dropped to a whisper by the end of the sentence, forcing Y/n to lean closer to be able to hear his translations, only magnifying the already present tension in the air.

“Пожалуйста, папа, я сделаю что угодно.”

“P-please daddy.” His voice broke at the end igniting something deep inside Y/n’s being. “I’ll do anything.” In that moment she truly believed he would do anything, his own words or not, based on the obvious strain in his pants that her eyes glanced over, and also by the way his skin completely succumbed to goosebumps as her warm breath caressed the shell of his ear. She didn’t really know what the hell was happening, why her body was absolutely loving the way he gradually leaned into her’s, submitting all of his vulnerabilities into her hands.

“Тебе это нравится, не так ли, маленькая шлюшка. Как член папы глубоко внутри тебя?”

She watched the way he inhaled a deep breath and released a high-pitched sigh before continuing on, subtly pressing her legs together to control the excitement thrumming through her body at his pathetic tone and mannerisms.

“You like t-that don’t you, you little-uh-you little s-slut?” From their close proximity, she could clearly make out the speedy heartbeat clambering against his chest as he spoke. And if that was the case, he must’ve been able to feel hers as well. “Like daddy’s c-cock deep inside of y-you?” She could’ve sworn she saw his dick twitch slightly in his pants.

“Маленькая шлюшка уже придет за мной? Тогда умоляйте об этом. Бля, умоляю позволить тебе кончить.”

Y/n certainly did not miss the airy sigh that escaped his lips, watching as a bead of sweat dripped down his temple, confidently guessing it was not from the heat that had been coming through the vents.

“Is the little-little s-slut gonna come for me already? B-beg for it then. Fucking beg f-for me to let you c-come.” Spencer was speedily falling apart at the seams and she was loving it. More than loving it. She was craving it. Craving the little noises that he was trying to stop from escaping his lips. Craving the way he slightly bounced his leg in an attempt to control his arousal, which was futile because it had obviously already reached its full potential in the confines of his khaki slacks.

“Пожалуйста, папа. Пожалуйста, позволь мне прийти. Мне это надо. Пожалуйста.”

Without even hearing the words translated back to her, she could hear the utter desperation in the girl’s voice. She no longer needed to understand the Russian language to be able to finish the translation, and as she sat there with her thighs tightly pressed together, she knew exactly what it meant.

“Please!” The utter need that was present in the original audio was somehow mirrored perfectly by the young doctor’s breathy voice, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, a prominent vein popping through the skin of his smooth forehead. “Please, p-please, please let me come. I n-need it. Please!”

“Приди за мной, детка.”

Deciding that she could regret her actions in the morning, Y/n quickly grabbed his face before he could translate, angling his head so she could whisper directly into his ear at the same time he spoke the last line of the night.

“Come for me baby.”, they both spoke at the exact same time.

Pulling away as fast as possible, she watched his clamped eyes shoot open as the most obnoxiously loud moan she had ever heard escaped the poor kid, his whole body spasming as a result. And using the large stain on the crotch of his pants as a guide, she was pretty certain she knew what had happened.

For the next few minutes there was silence in the SUV, apart from Spencer’s heavy breathing as he came down of course, leading them to believe the couple had fallen asleep after their...activities. Of course she wanted nothing more than to tease the trembling mess next to her, but she could already tell he was mortified beyond belief because of what happened so she didn’t want to make it any worse for him than it already was.

After waiting a few extra minutes just to make sure that they had actually gone to sleep, the pair drove away from the stakeout location, Spencer not having said a word since his...big finish. As much as she loved watching him fall apart in front of her, she really didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable around her.

“Well that was certainly an unexpected turn of events for the night, huh?”, she said, lightly chuckling with the intent of lightening his mood. She was very glad to see it had the intended effect.

“Uh y-yeah...you could definitely say that again.”, he mumbled with the ghost of a smile on his plump lips, though she could still clearly make out the blush coating his features.

“So hey, I know that you usually take the metro, but I’d be more than happy to give you a ride home after we drop the SUV off at the office if you want.”, she warmly smiled in his direction without taking her eyes completely off the road.

“Oh um..yeah that would be perfect. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it Reid.”

~~~

The rest of the ride back to the office was pretty much spent in silence, but it was much more comfortable than it had been before, which was a huge relief. After dropping the keys to the SUV in the lock box inside, the two agents piled into Y/n’s car to go back home to their shared building. On their way back she considered just asking him if he wanted to ride with her everyday just to make his life a little easier in the long run.

Once they got to the parking lot and exited the vehicle, they began walking towards the entrance together, the awkward tension from before creeping back into the air around them. Soon enough, they found themselves standing in front of their respective doors, both unsure of how they were supposed to end the night’s interactions. After a few moments of painful silence and eye contact, Y/n was the first one to rip off the band-aid.

“So...I guess I’ll see you tomorrow Reid?” He seemed to be broken out of his trance by the sound of her voice, snapping back to attention.

“Huh? Oh yeah uh yes of course. S-see you tomorrow Y/n. Goodnight.” He scampered into his apartment before she could even get a chance to respond to his bidding.

“Goodnight.”, she whispered to no one other than herself as she unlocked her door and headed inside to shower quickly before diving into her soft sheets.

She was sitting up in her bed, book in hand, with only the small glow of her reading lamp illuminating her room when she heard it. Of course she knew immediately what they were, a talent that had developed and strengthened from living adjacent to a pretty much pubescent boy.

The tell-tale sound of moans and groans vibrating right through her wall.

She knew she probably shouldn’t be listening, something about a violation of privacy or whatever, but she just couldn’t help it. He sounded so desperate it was driving her insane. So much in fact that she was in the process of skimming her own hand downwards when she was interrupted by a certain something from the Doc’s room.

“Y/n! Oh god, please. Please.”

Oh. Oh.

Not even giving herself a second to consider her actions, she was up on her feet basically sprinting to his door, pajamas and all. Not even bothering with knocking, she noticed it was unlocked and let herself in, beelining for what she assumed was his bedroom by the increasing volume as she approached it. Standing in his doorframe, she was utterly mesmerized. There he was, sprawled across his sheets, completely bare with sweat coating his hair as he rapidly pumped his angry, red cock, her name tumbling from his lips like a chant.

“You’re so beautiful like this.” She smirked as she watched his head shoot up to where she was standing, his hand immediately stilling it’s rapid movements. Watching the panic spread on his face was intoxicating to her as she slowly approached his bed.

“Y/n! Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I uh-I didn’t um...” His words trailed off and his eyes widened as he watched her slowly begin removing her clothes as she moved closer to him.

“Shhhhhh.” She managed to remove both her shirt and pajama pants in the short trip over to his bed and she had no intention of stopping there. Now standing directly in front of him, she let her eyes wander over his still frame completely, soaking in the amazement in his dark eyes and the slight tremble that was periodically rippling through his body. Maintaining eye contact with him the whole time, she reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, letting it pool on the floor next to her.

It was honestly shocking his eyes didn’t actually fall onto the floor with how far they bulged out of their sockets, a small moan leaving his mouth.

She giggled at his enthusiasm before bringing her soft hands up to caress his face gently, his body shuddering at the contact. “Do you want me to keep going baby boy?” Taking a second to process the question that had left her lips, he slowly nodded while looking her in the eyes, his own full of awe.

Happy with his answer, she reached for the edge of her panties before pushing them down to join the other pieces of clothing already inhabiting his floor. Spencer couldn’t speak. He could barely even breathe. Five minutes ago he had been jerking off to his neighbor, who also happened to be his coworker, and now said neighbor was crawling onto his bed, completely naked, with a wicked smirk on her face.

Straddling his lap, but making sure that there was no actual contact, she reached up to cup his face again, slowly rubbing circles into his defined cheekbone. “Is this ok baby boy? Is this what you want?”, she cooed.

Spencer looked like he honestly might cry from the pure compassion laced within her words, but still found a way to nervously nod his head in affirmation of her questions. With a warm smile on her face, she leaned forward and placed a feather-light kiss on his lower jaw before continuing up the side of his face, basking in the small whimpers that fell from his pretty lips. Finally reaching his ear, she let her warm breath tease him before proceeding.

“Do you want me to take control of you? Is that what you want sweet boy?” While the whine that immediately escaped him was answer enough, she pulled back searching for a more concrete answer to her question. “Hmmmm, you’d like that?”

“Yes.”, he whispered, nodding his head anxiously.

While he was answering she had leaned back towards his face, placing soft kisses all over. “As you wish baby boy.”, she whispered, changing course to attack his neck with her eager lips as soon the words left her mouth. Spencer gasped instantly and she couldn’t help but smirk against his pale flesh, increasing the pressure in which she was assaulting his neck.

Through the groans that spilled past his lips, she was able to make out his pathetic attempt at words, not slowing down her lips at all. “J-just make sure not to leave any m-marks. We’ll g-get in trouble at w-work.” Of course Spencer would be the only person on the planet to remember their office guidelines while getting his neck sucked like a vampire.

“No marks...that’ll be difficult. I want everyone to know just how thoroughly I fucked you.”

Feeling extremely satisfied by his enthusiastic response to her vulgar words, she slowly lowered herself down his body, pausing with her mouth right above his groin. Somehow the poor kid already looked completely fucked out and she hadn’t even done anything yet. Hearing him wince as she gently grasped and started stroking his cock, she knew this was gonna be fun.

Staring directly into her eyes, he watched the string of spit leave her mouth and drip directly onto his dick, eyes bulging at her bold actions, still in shock that any of this was actually happening.

Entranced by the way his chest expanded rapidly as he watched her curiously, she leaned forward and licked the tip, his head falling back onto the pillow behind him. “I’m gonna suck your cock...but only because I want to see if you can not be a spaz about getting head from me.” Her words made Spencer whimper and she smirked as she took him fully into her mouth, soaking in his pretty noises.

Y/n had only been going for a minute or two when she heard his groans get louder and felt him twitch in her mouth. Pulling off of him with a pop, she hummed at the sight of the completely wrecked boy in front of her, panting and shaking adorably. It wasn’t long before the perfect idea infiltrated her head, her body thrumming with anticipation and excitement.

“You’ve been such a good boy for me. I think you deserve a reward.”, she smirked, reciting the words that they had heard verbatim. Seemingly catching on to what she was pushing for, he responded accordingly.

“Please Y/n. I’ll do anything.”

She quirked her eyebrow in his direction questioningly, slowly grinding her dripping core against his achingly hard cock. “Anything, baby boy?”

Snapping his heated stare directly to her eyes, he cracked a beautiful smile. “Anything.”

She couldn’t control the grin that overtook her lips as she lowered herself down onto his erection, writhing in pleasure at the feel of him inside of her and the sound of his wanton moans. “Good boy.”

Wanting to give Spencer time to fully adjust and control himself, she started her movements out slow, lifting herself up until only his tip remained inside before dropping down completely into his lap repeatedly. He was a moaning mess on the sheets below her, sweat coating his body along with goosebumps covering every visible expanse of his skin as he panted like a dog. He was so fucking pretty like this.

Deciding enough was enough, she picked up the pace considerably, bouncing like a mad woman on his dick, while her sharp nails scratched down his creamy, pale chest in front of her, leaving angry, red streaks in their wake. Spencer had devolved into a blubbering mess underneath her and that lit her soul on fire.

“You like that don’t you, you little slut? Like your cock deep inside of me? Huh?”

Y/n was pretty sure that he was short circuiting below her, his brain cutting off all control over his body as he spasmed uncontrollably and moaned for the entire fucking building to hear. Good, she thought. Let them hear how whipped he was for her. Even though it had only been a few minutes since she increased her speed, she could feel his cock starting to twitch violently inside of her and she knew he was close, really close.

“Is the little slut gonna come for me already?” All he could do was whimper in response, having to nod his head emphatically due to his loss of speech.

“Beg for it then. Fucking beg for me to let you come!” She was on fucking cloud nine right now, floating through the motions, as his whimpers increased in volume and speed. Mustering up all the strength he could, he spit out as many audible words as possible.

“Please! Please, please, please let me come! I need it! Please!” He was crying now, tears rapidly pouring from his eyes and spilling down his cheeks out of sheer desperation and need to release the tension built up within his body.

She was in awe of him. As she watched the tears pour down his face, she couldn’t help but whimper too. Desperately needing to finish, herself, she brought one hand down to make circles around her clit, while the other she brought up to wrap gently around his flushed throat, leaning over to whisper in his ear like she had earlier that night.

“Come for me, baby.”

She once again pulled back to witness his reactions to her hushed words, the outcome only more amazing than before. She watched as his eyes rolled back as far they could possibly go into his head as his mouth dropped open in pure ecstasy, high-pitched whines escaping his lips, his release shooting up into her like it had always belonged there. Maybe it had.

Watching him come undone below her, combined with her hand speedily rubbing circles on her clit, she was catapulted into the most amazing climax of her entire life, her body buzzing with excitement as she tightened around him and collapsed on his chest, weak as could be after that activity.

The pair laid silently, apart from the heaving breaths whirring through the room, still in shock over what had just transpired minutes before. Slowly shifting her eyes to the shivering boy below her, she saw he was caught in a trance, his eyes dazed, a soft grin on his lips.

Breaking him from his stupor, she gently cupped his cheek with one hand as the other drew lazy circles on his blotchy chest. Rubbing the skin on his face lightly, she leaned forward and kissed his nose, making him scrunch it up and giggle as a result. “Such a sweet boy for me. Such a sweet, sweet boy.” Her words made him melt inside and words tumbled out of his own mouth before he could even think about stopping them.

“Вы красивы внутри и снаружи.”

She looked up at him in shock, before breaking out in giggles. “Did you just serenade me in Russian? How romantic.”, she giggled, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

He couldn’t seem to control his giggles either, a fact that warmed her heart. “Yes, I suppose I did.”

Smiling up at the adorable boy she just had to ask. “What does it mean?”

Y/n watched as his signature blush quickly coated his features once again as he looked down at her with a shy smile. “You are beautiful, inside and out.”

With the warmest grin she could muster, she leaned up and kissed his jaw once more before snuggling up against the young doctor who had melted her heart.

Tag List: @hopebaker @pastathighs @psychedellic-phase @gloryekaterina @sleepysnapesnake @racharr @etherealgubler @furiouspartyrebelhoagie @andiebeaword @liaabsurd @cielo1984 @starkeybaby @victomizedbyreginageorge @rainsong01 @moonlight-jukebox @gretaamyk @httpnxtt @rachelxwayne @goldnratio @cheyxminds @kricketc29 @cupcake525 @pinkdiamond1016 @slutforthegubes @shadyladyperfection @emilysallysmith @babblingbrookex @legendaryanimeaestheticclou @sunstspidey @ashwarren32 @pixels-impulse @eviewildflower @spencerreider @awkwardsadaa @dirty-pan-goblin @spencerspecifics

#criminal minds #cm #criminal minds fic #spencer #spencer reid #dr reid #matthew gray gubler #mgg #mgg fic #spencer x reader #cm fic #spencer reid smut #cm fluff #cm smut #spencer reid fluff #smut #fluff #many thoughts head full #oneshot

625 notes · View notes

e-milieeee · 4 years

Text

the enemy of my enemy (must be my ally)

Summary: When one of his akumas attacks Adrien and one of his classmates, Gabriel Agreste discovers that Marinette Dupain-Cheng would prove a very useful ally against Ladybug and Chat Noir.

How had he not discovered sooner? But oh well—better late than never. Ladybug will never know what’s coming.

Notes: from this post because everyone wanted me to write it. i warned y’all. feat. gabriel’s 2 functional brain cells.

AO3 | Kofi

Gabriel Agreste isn’t past admitting his mistakes.

Most of them have involved Adrien, so he supposes that it’s time to pay attention to the trend. And all of those mistakes have involved his growing career as Hawkmoth—and, more specifically, the choices he makes for whom he akumatizes.

Lila Rossi, now known as Princess Perfect—seriously, what the hell was wrong with this girl? He’d given her the liberty of choosing her akuma name, but such a godawful name is a bad reflection on him as well—kicks down the door of the classroom.

He sees it all through Lila’s eyes, like he does with all the akumas. Doesn’t mean he’s particularly happy about the turnout of this particular akumatization.

“What are you doing?” Gabriel demands to her. “I want Ladybug and Chat Noir’s Miraculous! You’re going the wrong way.”

Relax. Lila’s voice drifts into his head. I need to take a little detour.

“What detour—” Oh. Oh, shit.

In the classroom, packing their bags, is his son and that Chinese girl with pigtails—Marinette. The one that Gabriel knows Lila Rossi intensely hates. The one that he doesn’t like either, because for some reason, his son is infatuated with her. It’s Marinette-this, Marinette-that these days, and Adrien just won’t stop gushing about her. Father, look at these designs! They’re Marinette’s. Father, look who’s on the news—it’s Marinette! Father, can you hire Marinette to work at Gabriel Brand?

Marinette, a real headache. Gabriel rubs his temples. Maybe it’s a good thing that Lila’s after her. Better to nip it in the bud before Adrien’s attachment becomes a real problem.

“Fine,” he grounds out to Lila. “But leave Ad—leave the blonde boy alone.”

Already ahead of you, Hawkie.

“Don’t call me that!”

She ignores him in favour of turning to the two victims. Adrien is standing in front of Marinette, arms spread in a protective stance, glaring at the akuma. For a couple moments, nobody speaks.

Then, Marinette, eyebrows furrowing, says, “You’re Lila, aren’t you. Seriously? What is this—your third akumatization? Fourth?”

“My name is Princess Perfect now,” Lila growls back. “Get out of my way, Adrien.”

Marinette literally gags. “Did Hawkmoth choose that name for you?”

“No, I didn’t,” Gabriel seethes. Unfortunately, none of them can hear him.

“Yes, he did,” Lila lies breezily. “But that’s not important. You think you’re such a hot shot, Marinette? You think you can take the spotlight from me without repercussions? I’m going to make sure everyone hates you and loves me, and you’ll learn your lesson for trying to cross me. After all, who can say no to Princess Perfect?”

Gabriel sighs through his nose. Are all teens this dramatic?

Apparently, they are. Betrayal comes from those closest to home, because it’s Adrien that holds up his arms even higher, still staring Lila down. “You’re going to have to go through me if you want to hurt her,” he promises. “Marinette, get out of here! Run!”

Oh, for heaven’s sake—

Two things happen at once. Lila darts towards them, her whip lashing out directly at Adrien. Gabriel swears under his breath—why isn’t Adrien moving out of the way? Why is he so intent on protecting that useless girl? “Lila!” he barks through the bond, but the akumatized girl is too far gone. “Touch him and I’ll make sure—”

Gabriel trails into dumbfounded silence when Marinette shoves Adrien aside, grabs the end of Lila’s whip, and tugs the weapon straight out of the girl’s hands.

“You’ve gone too far,” she growls in a tone so chilly that it even reaches him. “Adrien, get out of here! I can handle her.”

Lila’s own shock lasts for a couple of times before she regains some of her composure. “You?” she sneers. “Handle me? Why, you pathetic—”

Adrien chucks a pencil case at Lila. It hits her cheek, and she whirls on him, enraged. At the same time, Marinette darts away from the window and slides behind the large wooden desk at the front. Gabriel, still watching the scene unfold, scoffs. So for all her big talk, she’s still nothing but a coward.

“Stand down,” he commands Lila once more. “Don’t you dare touch Adrien—what the hell?”

Lila seems to have noticed the source of his bewilderment as well, but it’s far too late. From underneath the desk, Marinette has lifted the thing—the giant, wooden desk—onto her shoulders.

Gabriel’s positive he stops breathing.

“Wait—” Lila begins. He sees it all through her eyes: Marinette braces herself for a moment and then throws it—throws the desk that a grown man shouldn’t be able to lift—right at Lila.

She doesn’t stand a chance. Lila goes down in a crash, pinned under the weight of Ms. Bustier’s desk that this small, petite girl had somehow bench-pressed and then chucked.

As much as Lila struggles, she is unable to remove the desk from on top of her. Given that his akumas have enhanced strength and she’s still incapable of lifting it, just how strong is Marinette?

Said girl in question stalks over to Lila. She plants a foot firmly against the overturned side of the desk and looks down at the girl trapped underneath.

Gabriel is certain that somehow, impossible as it sounds, Marinette is staring right through Lila’s eyes, through their connection, and into his own. His body freezes. His jaw locks. And for the first time in a very, very long time, Gabriel Agreste is absolutely terrified.

“Next time you try something like this,” Marinette growls, leaning in, “I won’t let you off so easily.”

With that ominous note, she snatches the necklace off Lila’s neck and marches right out of the classroom.

Gabriel remains frozen for a couple more moments. He isn’t certain if he still remembers how to breathe.

It wasn’t Ladybug nor Chat Noir that had foiled this plan. No, it was Adrien Agreste’s classmate, a girl who had previously annoyed him, that had single handedly defeated an akuma and scared him absolutely shitless.

What. The. Fuck.

***

“Adrien,” Gabriel says over dinner. “You know that girl you always talk about? Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”

His son looks up from his meal with a bright look on his face. Once upon a time, Gabriel would’ve been annoyed. Now, after reevaluating the girl, he comes to the conclusion that it’s best Adrien stays on Marinette’s good side. She’s probably more than capable of beating his son up.

“Yeah, Marinette?” Adrien echoes. “You know how there was an akuma attack today? Well, Marinette was actually there in the classroom with me when the akuma came for us.”

Gabriel is forced to play ignorant. “Oh? What happened?”

“Well, the akuma tried to attack us, and Marinette picked up a desk—you might find it hard to believe, and honestly I would’ve too if I hadn’t seen her do it—and threw it at the akuma. When Ladybug and Chat Noir finally showed up, there wasn’t even anything for them to do.”

Gabriel shifts in his seat. “That is… rather unbelievable."

Except he swears he can still feel the heat of Marinette’s glare, and is forced to accept that this is the reality he’s living in.

“Why did you ask about her, though, father?”

He snaps back into the present. “Huh?”

“Marinette—why did you ask about her? Wait, father, are you reconsidering hiring her? Did you finally look at the designs I sent you? This is amazing. I’m sure she’ll do amazing. Your stocks will rise. You’ll get more customers. Marinette’s basically a walking lucky charm—this will be the best decision you’ve ever made, father. I promise.”

He frowns at Adrien. “Don’t make preposterous suggestions. But yes— I am considering giving Marinette Dupain-Cheng a job at the company, perhaps an internship one of the senior designers. She’s very… talented.”

He thinks of the way she’d lifted the desk and flung it at Lila. Talented, indeed.

Perhaps talented enough to finally give him an edge against Ladybug and Chat Noir.

***

Marinette Dupain-Cheng is more than eager to come in for a so-called interview. Nathalie has done her digging on the girl: she’s made it pretty big quite a couple times already, in the fashion industry and has quite a few connections. Even if Gabriel’s motivations aren’t technically for the company, he has to admit that she has much future potential to tap into in the future. But for now, that’s not his goal.

She’s impeccably dressed when Nathalie leads her inside his study. Her eyes are positively shining when she beams at Gabriel. “Mr. Agreste!” Marinette chirps. “I’m so happy to be here. When Adrien told me you wanted to interview me for the job…this is such an amazing opportunity to be presented with, and I am so honoured.”

Gabriel exchanges a glance with Nathalie. She nods subtly.

“It’s my pleasure to meet you, Ms. Dupain-Cheng.” He rises from his desk and holds out his hand for her to shake. She does so.

It takes all of Gabriel’s self-control not to show the pain on his face when she grips his hand.

How the fuck is this girl so strong?

Thankfully, Marinette doesn’t seem to notice anything wrong. Gabriel draws back his hand and tucks it behind his back. It’s throbbing.

“So, Marinette.” He sits back down at his desk. Marinette is practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. If she were any normal person, Gabriel might’ve snapped at her to settle down, but after that show with Lila yesterday, he decides that it’s for his own good not to get on her bad side. He’ll just have to channel all his patience—for self-preservation, really. “I understand that you’re interested in interning at my company?”

She nods excitedly. “I’ve been designing for years, Mr. Agreste—I’m aware that I have a lot to improve on—”

“What I have in mind for you—” Gabriel pauses, realizing that he’d interrupted her. Hurriedly, he gulps. “Never mind. Continue.”

“I’m aware that I have a lot to improve on but I’m a very quick learner! I promise I’ll do my very best to help you and your company.”

He nods. “That’s good to hear. For now, I’ll… I’ll arrange with Nathalie what we can assign you to do in the company. And I have another favour to ask of you, if it’s not too much.”

Marinette smiles. “Whatever it is, I’ll do my best to help you!”

Nathalie had warned him to be careful with Marinette—one wrong move and he could be ousted as Hawkmoth. He takes a deep breath. “I have become aware that there are some bad influences around my son in school. You are friends with Adrien, yes?”

“Yes, and… bad influences?” Marinette frowns, shifting her weight. “Oh, yeah, there’s one in particular. Actually, I’m not sure if you’re aware, Mr. Agreste, but I’m glad you brought it up. You know that akuma yesterday? That girl’s name was Lila Rossi. She’s been hanging around Adrien quite a bit these days, and ‘bad influence’ barely covers what she does. And—oh! When I confronted her once about making Adrien uncomfortable, she told me she had a ‘friend in a high place’ that was backing her up. I think you might want to look into that too, Mr. Agreste. It was pretty worrisome, to be honest.”

Gabriel’s mouth has gone dry. “I… yes. Yes, I shall look into that too.”

Marinette rolls her shoulders. “God, if I knew who they were, I’d throw them into the Seine. How dare they.” Then her eyes widen. “Sorry, Mr. Agreste! I was just… um, I was just talking to myself. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s perfectly alright,” Gabriel reassures immediately, although it doesn’t do much to ease the chill that is travelling up his spine. “Then it’s decided? Nathalie will give you her contact information—you can send her your resume just for formalities, and she will organize the rest. And… be sure to keep an eye on my son at school.”

“I will!” Marinette chirps, ever so chipper. Behind that attitude lies the strength to lift the desk he’s currently sitting and crush him. And much, much more.

Nathalie guides the girl away. Gabriel is unable to breathe fully until she leaves.

He has to calculate this well, because he can’t afford to lose a potential ally like Marinette Dupain-Cheng. He’s already thinking—perhaps she would do well with the Peacock Miraculous, or the Bee Miraculous, if he can get his hands on it again. If—if he can somehow convince Marinette to help him with his cause, all of his other plans don’t even need to go into action. Ladybug and Chat Noir will never see this coming.

Nathalie returns. “Sir, your face is rather pale,” she notes. “But may I ask what that was about? You were… unusually lenient today.”

Gabriel clears his throat and straightens in his seat. “Never mind me,” he dismisses. “But first, I need to contact Lila Rossi as soon as possible to cut off all ties. Let her know she’s fired.”

“Is this because…?”

He allows himself a small smile. “You’ll see soon, Nathalie,” he reassures. “We’ve finally got the upperhand in this fight.”

Notes: i lost brain cells writing it, and i’m sure y’all have lost brain cells reading it.

Fics masterlist here!

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #gabriel agreste #hawkmoth #bamf marinette #gabriel is TERRIFIED of marinette #as he should be #crack #humour #yall asked for this its not my fault #ml #mlb fic #my writing #that being said if you tag this gabrinette i will hunt you down

1K notes · View notes

giowritess · 4 years

Text

— prompt & trope list —

p r o m p t & trope l i s t — m a s t e r l i s t

— under the cut you have a compilation of prompts and tropes I’ve created and found here on Tumblr and internet.

— don’t forget to check my fandoms post to see who and what I write for!

TROPES

1. Christmas

2. New Year

3. Valentine’s Day

4. Mother’s Day

5. Father’s Day

6. Wedding

7. Arranged marriage

8. Babysitter

9. Coffee shop

10. Book store

11. Fake dating/marriage

12. Forbidden love

13. Pet store

14. Parent

15. Teacher

16. Flower shop

17. Locked in a room

18. Bed sharing

19. Stranded due to weather

20. Next door neighbors

21. Bakery

FLUFF/GENERAL/ROMANCE

1. You seem like a bad boy/girl/person type. 2. Oh my god, did you just say that out loud? 3. You expecting someone? 4.Do you need a place to stay for tonight? 5. Look at us, we’re basically a couple already. 6. Compliments won’t pay my drinks. 7. Maybe, just maybe, if I get a free drink I might consider talking to you. 8. That won’t work. Try again. 9. You couldn’t handle me even if I came with instructions. 10. Do you trust me? 11. Can I kiss you? 12. It’s lonely here without you. 13. Is that my shirt? 14. You own my heart. 15. We’re more than friends and you know it! 16. I don’t wanna sleep alone tonight. 17. It was you the whole time. 18. I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending they’re you. 19. I’m not going anywhere. 20. You make me want things I can’t have. 21. Steal the blankets again and I’ll put my cold feet on you. 22. You’re in love with her. 23. I don’t know if I want to kiss you or shove you off a bridge. 24. Are you even listening to me?! 25. I didn’t think you could get any less romantic. 26. You make everyday worth living. 27. You’ve shown me what love feels like. 28. You’ve always felt like home. 29. I can’t imagine a world/life without you. 30. I am home. 31. I’m right where I belong. 32. Can’t you stay a little longer? 33. You’re the only one I wanna wake up next to. 34. You make me want to be better. 35. I think I’m in love with you, and that scares the crap out of me. 36. I think you’re just afraid to be happy. 37. Why haven’t you kissed me already? 38. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. 39. I can’t stay away from you. 40. I’m better when I’m with you. 41. I tried my best not to feel anything for you, but I failed. 42. I don’t want to be alone right now. 43. I don’t trust myself around you. 44. I don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me before. 45. Can we just lie here for a moment? 46. I’ve never hated you. You just... make me feel things I don’t understand. 47. If you don’t tell me to stop, I’m going to kiss you. 48. I could get used to waking up next to you, actually. 49. Please, don’t cry. I can’t stand to see you cry. 50. You’re a terrible liar. 51. You’re the only person I want to be with tonight. 52. You’re not going anywhere. 53. You were always good for me. 54. You’re more than just a one night stand. 55. I’ve been falling in love with you since the first day we met.

ANGST & SAD

1. I can’t stand the thought of you. 2. Don’t fuck this up. 3. How stupid do you think I am? 4. You broke my heart and all you can say is sorry? 5. Don’t you dare to leave me. Not now. 6. I’m dying. There’s nothing you can do about it. 7. I’m not gonna lie. This isn’t how I planned for this to go down. 8. I can’t do the things you do. 9. I might never get another chance to say this. 10. Tell me I’m wrong. 11. How much of that did you hear? 12. I thought I could trust you. 13. Are you just going to leave me here? 14. Don’t. I don’t have to hear your pathetic excuses anymore. 15. You knew about this all along, didn’t you? 16. I still believe there’s a good person in you. 17. It was necessary. 18. I’m sorry this had to go down like this. 19. What the hell is wrong with you?! 20. Is that how little you think of me? 21. I’m too sober for this shit. 22. It’s not that easy. 23. You’re more than that. 24. She’s hot, but she’s evil. 25. Well, behaved women rarely make history, do they? 26. That’s not what I meant and you know it. 27. I have to tell you something. 28. Why am I not surprised? 29. She’s not yours. 30. There’s no us. There never was. 31. I made a mistake. 32. Please, don’t walk out that door. 33. When were you going to tell me? 34. The worst thing is, that even after all of that, I’m still in love with you. 35. Would you just shut up and listen to me for two goddamn seconds? 36. If i asked you to stay, would you? 37. I don’t know who you are anymore. 38. I trusted you. 39. Hang on. You’re gonna be okay. Keep breathing. 40. You crossed a line. 41. There’s no turning back from this. 42. I needed you, and you weren’t there.

SMUT — 18+

1. Don’t make me take you home and punish you. 2. I’ve never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly. 3. You’re more than just a one night stand. 4. Like what you see? 5. Try to stay quiet, understand? 6. We’re in public, you know. 7. I really don’t care. You still look hot and i’m trying not to kiss/fuck you senseless right now. 8. Are you sure? Once we start, i might not be able to stop. 9. Make me. 10. Stop teasing me so much. 11. You’re in trouble now. 12. First one to make a noise loses. 13. Mine. 14. Behave. 15. What did you just say? 16. Come here. 17. Watch me. 18. If you interrupt me one more time, so help me god. 19. If you insist. 20. Could he make you feel as good as i do? 21. You make a sound and its game over. 22. If i have to stop what i’m doing, you wont be able to walk for the next week. 23. I haven’t even touched you and you’re already this wet. 24. C’mere, you can sit on my lap until i’m done working. 25. What? Does that feel good? 26. If we get caught i’m blaming you. 27. We have to be quiet. 28. Tell me again. 29. Say it. 30. If you don’t like my teasing, then why are you moaning? 31. I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever even met that asshole. 32. You better shut that pretty little mouth before i put it to work, doll. 33. I really want to kiss you right now. 34. Then do it. 35. You’re not taking me to bed. Ever. 36. Who said it had to be on the bed? 37. She may seem like lollipops and rainbows but i bet behind closed doors she’s latex and whips. 38. Ah, he’s playing hard-to-get. Thats cute. 39. Don’t fucking touch what is not yours. 40. I’m not sure if its a sexual thing or not. 41. There’s people here. 42. I don’t care what you do, just fuck me. 43. Fuck you. 44. I’m not going to touch you unless you beg. 45. You can’t tease me like that and expect not to be punished. 46. I’m gonna strangle you. 47. Is that a promise? 48. You look a bit tied up, want me to come back later? 49. Stop distracting me. 50. I know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that. 51. Saddle up doll. 52. What are you doing in my bed?! 53. If you're going to act like a little brat then I'm going to treat you like a little brat. 54. You'd better be quiet or everyone's going to know what a naughty little slut you are. 55. Look at you, I've only started using my fingers and you're already shaking. 56. I can't wait to be on my knees for you later. 57. Oh honey, you know, you really shouldn't tease me. 58. If you keep making those sounds I'm not going to be able to stop myself. 59. Such a needy little thing, aren't you? 60. You better watch your fucking mouth. 61. I love the way you look with my fingers inside you. 62. Wanna see what I'm wearing underneath all this? 63. I wonder what your girlfriend/boyfriend would do if they knew what you were doing right now. 64. Do you know how beautiful you are? It's truly distracting. 65. If you leave the house wearing that then the second you get back home I'm going to bend you over that bed. 66. I'm gonna fuck you in front of the mirror, I want you to see how pretty you look when you're spreading your legs for me. 67. Let me show you what happens to little brats who don't follow the rules. 68. You know, there wasn't a single thing to eat in the kitchen until you walked in.

2K notes · View notes

monst · 4 years

Text

Forgiveness and Redemption

A Bnharem Collab

Endeavor: Enji Todoroki x Reader

Warnings: Harsh sexy time actions, Angst, Hard Femdom, Impact play, power play degradation, sounding, spanking, masochism, Sadism, horrible coping methods? All in all it’s fucked up. Enji tryna basically punish himself type of thing….And I apologize in advance for the copious use of the word deserve.. You have been warned.

(Main post -> Is Here!) Concept stuck in quarintine so tryning out new kink/s. And I think that’s everything so let's get it!

Being a hero. The number one hero to be exact Enji Todoroki was exempt from quarantine, he was after all a very essential employee in the Japanese government. Granted he wasn’t obligated to patrol the streets, he had the option to self-quarantine for his own health and protection.

However, after spending a couple of days in self-quarantine with his family he wanted out. His eldest son Natsuo had been ‘evicted’ from his home due to contamination on his block and he had no choice but to stay in the family house. Now Enji did care for his family, sadly he had a funny way of showing it but it was still there..

He should have known that strife was bound to happen. In fact he did know and he believed himself to be prepared for his son’s blade-like tongue. And, even the thickest of skins couldn’t stop words from cutting into your skin and settling into your bones. Natsuo had made his distaste apparent throughout the whole ordeal whereas Shouto had only treated him with indifference, while making sure Rei never came in contact with him.

He was foolish to believe that in this time he could make amends. It was too soon the wounds were too fresh and still healing. And some would never heal and they’d remain open and continue to fester. Fuyumi tried her best to keep the peace and Enji was grateful for that but the words had already been said and they had penetrated his muscular chest and seeped into his bleeding heart.

He didn’t make a sound the following morning and as he laced his boots he couldn’t help but recall something he had heard in his prepubescent years ‘Sticks and stones may break my bone but words will never hurt me.’ He couldn’t help but think it was a lie. Nothing had hurt more than what Natsuo had said to him during dinner. And as he walked out of the door decked out in his hero costume he knew that it would plague his mind for days to come.

“There’s really no need for you to be out here old timer.” He ignored the snide remark from a fresh-faced newbie. “Hey, I’m talking to ya! Go home Endeavor. We don’t need ya out here.”

He sent the hero a half-hearted glare. He knew that he was right. There was no one out Hell, even the villains seemed to be holed up in whatever crevices they dwelled in. There were just a few people going to work, to the grocery store, the pharmacy and the hospital.

“Oi don’t talk to him like that!? Do you know who he is!?” Another hero quipped.

“Tsk Yeah? Do you? The things this guy’s done.” He spat “Makes me fucking sick.”

“He’s a hero you dipshit he has been saving people for years! You're just mad that he’s actually popular.” The other defended. “What rank are you huh? You meddle in the thousands?”

He was just standing there.. Watching as people jumped in to curse him and others came to his defense. ‘He’s trying to redeem himself!’ ‘It’s too late for that’ ‘He hasn’t done anything wrong!’ ‘Do you not read the news?!’ ‘Those are rumors’ ‘He’s a hero!’ ‘He’s no better than a villain’ ‘He saved my life!’ ‘And mines!’ ‘So we’re just going to ignore what he’s done?’ ‘He’s so cool’ ‘He’s hot’ ‘I’m his biggest fan!’ ‘I hate him’

His head spun. Where had all these people come from? What on earth were they arguing about? What were they saying? Fuck he had never been so unsure in his whole life… “What.. What am I..” he mumbled to himself. His moving lips caught the crowd's attention.

“Speak up, what was that?!” Someone called out.

“I said go home! There are too many of you gathered here! We are trying to enforce social-distancing! And this ridiculous argument isn’t worth your health!” He roared. He ignored every comment of gratitude, every sneer or quip. He really wasn’t himself that day. Hell he didn’t even know who he was anymore. He had stopped knowing the day All Might had resigned.

He had made the strong blonde his life’s purpose and blinded himself to everything else and now there was just a hollow feeling in his chest. An ache and a pain not physical. He wondered if he would have ever realized these things if All Might were to still be number one… Frustrated. Frustration filled his being. He wanted to tear his hair out! He wanted to scream! To cry! To lash out to SOMETHING!

He wanted these feelings gone. Even if it were just for a moment… Maybe that’s why his feet dragged him to the only person who could accomplish that. In a physical sense at the very least….

He stood outside the wooden door contemplating on whether he should knock. But he quickly grasped his knuckles against the male before he could punk out. He heard you on the other side sliding all the locks out of place.

“Enji?” You yawned. “What are you doing here?”

His silence spoke volumes. You only had to glance up at his face to see the color blossoming at the apples of his cheeks and you instantly knew why he was there. He averted his eyes as you let him in. You sighed and looked up at him while pinching the bridge of your nose.

“You can’t keep doing this.” You huffed motioning him to the couch. When the soft cushioning dipped under his weight and he was finally eye level with you he bowed his head.

“I know.” Weak. Whoever would have heard him speak would have been in shock at the tone.

“You're not even supposed to be here, we're in quarantine.” You chided, crossing your arms under your chest.

“Please, I just need to… I just..” His voice shook and you once again heaved out a sigh.

“Fine. But this is the last time. You can’t keep using me like this, you need to get actual help, not a distraction.” You reprimanded. “Well? Get up you know where to go, I’m going to go get changed and your ass better me naked and spread when I get in there.” You ordered.

He replied with a nod and when you glared at him he piped up “Yes, Mistress.” And so while you went to change out of your sleep clothes he walked down the corridor and unlocked your ‘special room’. When he walked in he saw the usual setting. Low lights, different contraptions, an arsenal of whips, rope and chains. Your ‘dungeon’.

He worked at his clothes briefly recalling the first time he had purchased your services. He scoffed at the thought. ‘A dominatrix?’ He topped, he was in charge, He… never knew how much he needed this.. How much he needed a place to drop all pretenses and submit himself. It felt good. And he kept on coming to you. However, you had quit the business in favor of doing something else with your life.

He was disappointed at first as he was quite taken to his mistress. He loved venting to you, he loved kneeling before you as you stepped down on his head, it made him feel as though that were his real place. On the ground like a worm. No on the ground like a broken man. A man who needed to atone.. A man who needed to be punished. You were the only one who would punish him and so he contacted you.

You took him up on the offer. He was an attractive man, obedient, sturdy and he paid you handsomely. And then the lines blurred… The two of you went past the thin line and now neither of you knew what you were to each other. Were you his carnal drug? Was he your human toy? Were there feelings? When his rough hands would wonder on your form was that a sign of more? Was it just him following an instruction? When you struck his face was that your way of telling him he was scum? When you pat his head was that genuine affection?

The play had been blurred and sadly neither of you wanted to admit that there was more. And when you walked into the room and saw him bare before you, you denied that you deeply cared for him. And he denied that he trusted you more than anyone else and that you did in fact hold a higher place in his heart than just being a quick fix.

Enji’s body quivered with anticipation when he heard your heels clack softly on the ground. His eyes were glued to the ground beneath him as he knew he couldn't look up at you without permission. It was when he saw the glossy black leather of your heels that he licked his lips.

“Look at you.” You sneered. “You're practically trembling.”

Your eyes looked down at him and you couldn’t help the smirk that touched your lips. Every time you saw him like this no matter how many times you’ve seen it, it never failed to fill your veins with unbridled delight. And you always vocalized the pleasure you got out of seeing the large imposing man so submissive before you.

“To think that this is Japan’s number one hero.” You scoffed, walking around him while dragging the riding crop across the expanse of his skin. He maintained his balsana pose, trying to contain the shivers the drag of the leather procured. You bit your lip contemplating on what you were going to say… You knew it was something that he wanted to hear but that didn’t make it easy.

“You don’t deserve that title.” You quipped bringing down the crop. The sound of it meeting his skin was accompanied by a low groan and you brought it down once more. “Do you deserve it? Do you deserve to be number one?”

“N-no.” He whispered.

“I can’t hear you speak up.” You hollered snapping your wrist allowing the dark material to mar his pale skin once more.

“No!” His fists were clenched tight in anticipation for another blow that never came.

“And why is that?” You cooed.

“I..I’m not. T-that’s-” He was cut off by your fingers threading into his crimson locks. And with a harsh tug you yanked him back, his azure eyes widening in surprise.

“Pathetic.” You sniggered “You can’t even speak. Why the hell are you even here?”

“B-because.” He gasped, licking his lips feverishly as his face had already taken the same hue as his hair. “Because I don’t deserve forgiveness and I want to be punished... Punished me Mistress”

Your eyes narrowed down at him. You stood silent as you watched his adam's apple bob when he swallowed thickly.

“Please.” He whined, crystalline liquid rimming his eyes.

“Get up.” You ordered.

He didn’t hesitate. His body was burning. Liquid heat was being spread by his veins as he walked over to the spot you indicated. It was shameful. Bending over for someone the way he did. His knuckles were white as he held onto the bar at the corner of the room. He could see you clearly from his spot. You looked fantastic. You always did. Your bodice was tight against your torso and the skirt you wore was straining against your ass.

He avoided looking forwards and continued to look at your reflection in the mirror watching as you grabbed a sizable paddle. He felt his cock strain at the sight and when your eyes caught his from the mirror his breath caught in his throat. You looked dangerous.

“Why aren’t you looking forwards?” You asked sweetly. It was a complete contrast to your now bruising grip of his roots. “There’s a dirty bitch just dying to look you in the eye.”

Blue eyes met as he looked at his reflection. “Don’t worry he gets even more pathetic, if you keep watching.” You teased.

-Slap-

“Hahngh” It was without warning that the paddle came down on his muscular cheek. It was followed by another to it’s twin and he had a clear view of how his face scrunched up at the sting.

“This is what you wanted right?” You huffed bringing down the paddle in rapid succession.

His legs trembled at the feeling. The saline liquid had already begun to spill from his eyes and they rimmed his strog jaw before dripping off onto the floor.

“Y-yes!.” he cried back. “More! Please” he sobbed.

Your hand went around his waist to grab his weeping length as you abused the skin of his ass. He was as stiff as a board in your hand. Pulsing with heat and dripping with need. And when you squeezed down his head bowed down.

“H-harder.” he choked, drool spilling down his chin as you pumped his length and rubbed the material of the paddle on his crimson ass. His large girth twitched in your palm as you gripped him tighter.

“I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry!” He panted deliriously. He was drunk of the pain and numbing pleasure. Whenever your thumb would tease his slit you’d bring down the paddle and it had him babbling and drooling.

You felt every twitch, every shake, sudder and moan. You were positively soaked. You could feel your pussy drool and clench at the sight of him coming undone before you.

“I don’t deserve it.” He gasped. He repeated it in a haze as he drew near his end. “Please don’t let me cum!” He cried. “I don’t deserve it.” he salivated.

“If you say so.” You shrugged, pulling back from him before he could release. It looked painful his swollen red tip throbbing with the need to release but having known Enji for a while you knew he was a big “Fucking pain slut.”

“Look at how sloppy you are.” You chided, using his hair to push his heated face against the cool mirror. He whined at his expression. “Is this the look of a hero? It looks more like a bitch in heat. Are you a bitch in heat Enji?!”

“N-no.” Your fingers found solace on his balls and you squeezed none too gently. “Yes! Yes I’m a bitch in heat~ Please Mistress Please use me, please fuck me, ruin me. I’m scum I want- I want-”

You shut him up by pulling him back. He whimpered pitifully when his ass met the cold ground. He didn’t get to complain as a loud moan slipped past his wet lips. He gripped his meaty thighs tightly as you stepped on his cock. His watery blue eyes looked up at you pleadingly. You leered down at him.

“Does it hurt?” You asked. He nodded not trusting his voice. “Do you want me to stop?” He shook his head.

“Hurt me. Hurt me like I hurt others.” He pleaded. “Suffocate me please.” He begged.

You stroked his hair back and out of his face. You knew Enji was far gone at the moment. He was deep within his subspace and you were thrilled that he trusted you enough to be so open with you.

“Suffocate you?” You mocked. “You think you deserve to have my pussy drown you?”

“No I don’t Mistress.” He whined.

“You know what I’ll indulge you.” You grinned while stepping off his throbbing length. Enji licked his suddenly dry lips as he watched you slip off your thong. You teasingly slid your skirt up and positioned yourself over his face.

“Fuck” You gasped when his tongue sliped pasted his lips to lap at your folds. Your grip on his hair tightened as the thick muscle circled the hood of your clit. It was embarrassing how wet you were. Your stringy slick quickly making a mess out of his face. His thick fingers traced your hole teasingly.

“Inside I want them inside.” You sighed. You felt bolts of pleasure run up your spin when he spoke a mumbled ‘yes mistress’ against your clit. And when one meaty finger entered your tight cunt you mewled. You pressed down harder against his face as he began to suckle your clit and another finger slid in.

“Enji~” You gasped, while grinding down on his face. Said man was growing light headed from the lack of oxygen but he never stopped. And when he heard you cry out again he knew his fingers hit the jackpot. Your body trembled a top of his as he brought you closer and closer. When you felt his other hand slide down to touch himself you pulled him off. Sure it cut off your orgasm but there was no way you were going to allow him to blatantly disobey you like that.

Your hand came across his face harshly, so much so that his cheek pulsed when his head was turned to the side.

“What the fuck were you doing?” You spat.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, laying his body down before you. You placed your foot on his head and glared down at him.

“You're just so greedy aren’t you? You know what I do to greedy disobedient brats?”

He shook at the thought of more punishment. And when you learned down to whisper in his ear he moaned like a needy bitch.

“I give greedy bitches exactly what they want and I stuff their slutty holes. You want me to fill your slutty asshole?” He whined. “You see I was going to fuck you. See you whine as I dragged my thick cock in and out of that tight ass but I feel like you don’t deserve it.”

“I don’t, I don’t want pleasure, punish me. Fuck (Nmae) please” He cried; rivets of tears spilling down his cheeks. And so you did. You found the thickest plug you owned and his ass received it with little resistance.

“You’ve been playing with your asshole haven’t you.” You teased. “To think that the great Endeavor likes things up his ass.”

“Full.” he drooled “I want to feel full.” He panted. “I feel so empty.” You paused.

“Enji..” You mumbled.

“No.” He shook his head and moved so he was sitting up. “I don’t want to think, just fill me up.”

His big hand grabbed his throbbing length. He had been holding off on cumming so it was incredibly hard it must have been painful. But what he said next surprised you as you had never attempted that kink with him before.

“Stuff my cock too” he asked. “I know you’ve done it before.” He mewled.

You felt your face heat up at what he was acting. You knew that you had him at your mercy most of the time during your play but this! This was something akin to laying your life down at one's feet.

“Are you sure? It might hurt since you're hard.” He nodded. You left him with the instruction ‘Don’t touch yourself’ as you went to go sterilize the probes. When you came back you let him choose.

“Relax yourself and don’t move.” You ordered taking the hot flesh into your hand. You position the bougie at his tip and he whined holding his thighs tightly to avoid moving. It was different. It stung a bit but the pressure he felt in his prostate when it brushed against his bladder was incredible. When it was finally all in he panted.

“F-full I’m so fucking full.” He gasped. Tears blurred his vision when you tugged at the butt plug in his ass. With painfully slow movements you pulled it out only to push it back in.

“Fuck, Look at you Enji.” you breathed, your fingers pinched his hardened nipples as he began to grind against the plug. And when you bit down on one and slithered your hand to play with the bougie in his cock he melted. His eyes rolled back as he came and you were careful to pull it out and watched as his cum spilled off the side of his length like a volcano. Your fingers dug into your unt at the sight. One hand drew frantic circles on your clit while the others thrust inside of you in quick succession.

“Fuck Enji look at this fucking mess.” You whined dragging your fingers against the deep grooves of your cunt. “Clean it up, you fucking pain slut.”

A bit shaky he got to his knees and leaned down to lap at your cunt again. You held him against your pussy as you ground yourself against his face.

“Hnngh this is what your good for, This is your only fucking purpose right now.” You panted. You continued to degrade him as your orgasm washed over you. A sudden calmness reigning over the room as Enji slurped up your release. Your fingers carded through his hair as you came down from your high.

“I want to try the Van buren now.” Your jaw dropped. And then you shook your head. “Your really intent on this punishment shit aren’t you.” He nodded. “Don’t cry when you get hard and it starts to hurt.”

You rolled your eyes at the large ginger as he pushed you away saying that he was undeserving of aftercare. He curled up into himself and you huffed in annoyance.

“Don’t be fucking stubborn “ you hissed applying a soothing cream to the raw flesh of his ass. “You did good.”

“I don’t want praise!” He whined, trying to get out of your hold. Your fingers rubbed circles into his back as he began to cry. He spilled his thoughts to you, his insecurities, his worries, his struggles, his self-loathing...everything. You were silent as he did so and only when he was reduced to sniffles did you speak.

“You have a lot of faults Enji… Redemption? Forgiveness? It may not be impossible but it sure as hell isn’t going to be easy….. Next time you feel this way I don’t want you to come to me. You can’t avoid these feelings with sex. You can’t get better by ignoring it. Like I said before I know a good therapist, You’ll be alright, I think the first step to getting better is admitting you have a problem and if you work hard at it you can be a better person for yourself and those around you.”

“Will you… Will you help me through it?” He asked. In that moment he was more vulnerable than he had ever been.

Your fingers curled into his and you gave him your honest answer….

#bnharem collab #enji todoroki #bnha endeavor #Endeavor smut #enji Todoroki x reader #Enji smut #Enji lemon #bnha smut #bnha angst

833 notes · View notes

molzies-fanfics · 4 years

Text

Whoops

A/N: I’ve never actually broken anything so I hope this is somewhat accurate, also anon I’m really sorry I didn’t respond earlier but I hope you healed up well!

Parkour had been a hobby once upon a time, but you had started posting videos on the internet, gaining followers over the past couple of years which led to earning a lot of money. So this basically became your job, but wasn’t it everybody’s dream to enjoy what they did for a living?

Although one day you were so caught up in your twists and flips from one surface to the next you didn’t notice that someone had spilt something…

Waking up in the hospital was a nice surprise, a bump on the head and a broken leg was the more nasty one. God…you had no idea how your boyfriend was going to react.

Leo was an incredibly loving and careful boyfriend, sometimes you couldn’t picture your life without him…but right now? You really didn’t want him to come over and see the epic blunder you had gotten yourself into.

He had texted about an hour ago, saying he would drop in when he would get the chance during patrol. It wasn’t like you could just say no! If you said no that would raise suspicions, leading to him coming over anyway. It wasn’t like Leo didn’t trust you, he just got concerned over whether you were getting kidnapped or not.

Letting out a massive sigh, you sat up to try and reach for the tv remote, but moving resulted in tugging the skin trapped under your cast causing you to hiss in pain. “Y/N?” hearing a familiar voice, you whipped your head around meeting the bluest eyes you ever did see. “Hey Leo…” you tried to sound casual, failing miserably as his gaze focused on the dark blue cast. “Oh my god, Y/N what happened?” he questioned as he rushed to your side, cupping your face in his hands.

“Well I was doing some parkour today and…I slipped.” You winced at the recollection. “Oh love, I’m so sorry. Do you need anything?” you were surprised in the change of conversation, originally thinking he was going to scold you for being so reckless, but you saw the concern etched into his features and knew he was being serious.

“The TV remote and some water would be great?” you wondered if you were doing the right thing, taking advantage of this opportunity. “Of course.” He smiled before handing you the remote. With the TV flickering to life, you turned back to him. “I thought you would be mad.” You almost whispered to yourself. “I am a little bit. It’s just…my need to take care of you kinda overrules that.” Leo chuckled to himself as returned with your water.

“Oh…well thanks.” You showed a weak smile before gulping down the glass. “Woah, slow down. You don’t want hiccups as well do you?” he laughed. You attempted to gulp down the lump in your throat as well. “I just realized…I won’t be able to work for so long now.” You gasped. “Love, you need time to heal, and that’s better than irritating the wound and starting all over again…isn’t it?” Leonardo rubbed circles into your shoulder. “I guess so.” You spoke into your glass.

Leaning over to give your forehead a kiss, Leonardo leant his head against yours, staring into your eyes. “I’m here for you.”

Raph had squeezed through your window without even letting you know he was coming. You couldn’t decide whether it was nice of him to surprise you or inconsiderate if he scared you. But you knew this time it was you who was going to give him a shock. The red banded turtle lumbered through your living room before spotting you on the couch.

“Hey…babe?” his tone changed as he spotted the cast trapping your leg. “Hi Raphie.” You greeted pathetically. “What the hell happened? Who did this to you?” he didn’t move as his temper soared, his features expressing a mix of pain, anger and regret. “No one did this to me! Well…unless you count myself.” You chuckled sadly. “…what?” he whispered.

Shutting your eyes tight, you didn’t want to see the look on his face when you told him. “I hurt myself today whilst filming. I wasn’t looking where I was going, there was some water…I slipped.” You sighed, preparing for the worst. Expecting him to yell, stomp about, reminding you what you had done and how he would continue to until it was drilled into your mind how dangerous your job really was. Maybe even tell you not to go back to it…

“Idiot.”

Surprised at the emotion in his voice, you opened your eyes to glance over your boyfriend. “What?” mumbling almost to yourself. “I said you’re an idiot. You should be more careful.” He almost smiled. Instead he sat down on the couch, bicep brushing against your uninjured foot. “I-I’ll keep that in mind.” You stumbled “You’re not mad?”

“How can I? You’ve received the brunt of your mistake anyway, I don’t want to add to that.” He gave you a sad smile whilst rubbing your leg affectionately. “Aw…thanks Raphie.” you whimpered, still a bit emotional from a stressful day and Raph just had to go and be a sweetheart. “Oh hey…don’t cry.” He got up to move closer to you, shuffling himself under your back so you could cuddle.

“Sorry…it’s just been a long day and I wasn’t expecting you to be so nice to me. My mom yelled at me so much today, complaining about how much the hospital would cost me especially since I won’t be able to go back to work now and earn the money back” you started to sob into his chest. “Shush, babe, everything will be alright. And if thing’s get tough around here you’re always welcome to come crash with us.” Raph suggested thoughtfully.

“Your…your brothers won’t mind?” you sniffled, completely bypassing the thought that your boyfriend had practically asked you to move in with him, despite it being purely for your benefit. “Hell no, you’re family Y/N.”

You ended up launching yourself at him then, ignoring the pain in your leg from the sudden movement as you latched your lips onto Raph’s.

“You are so sweet, y’know that?”

“It happens.” He chuckled.

Donnie was practically a doctor himself, so when you broke your leg and only found out when you woke up in hospital, you knew he was gonna be pissed. Not by the fact that you broke it in the first place, but maybe because you didn’t come to him about it. Face it, it would’ve been difficult to get to him with a broken leg but at least it would’ve been free and you would’ve been able to see your boyfriend in this difficult situation.

Walking on crutches back to your apartment only to find out the elevator was out of order was a treat though. The cherry on top of this whole mess. After spending a whole hour, yes an HOUR, climbing the stairs with your cast on, you opened your door to be greeted by none other than Donatello.

“There you are dove! I was starting to get…worried.” He was excited to see you before his eyes fell to your cast. Feeling way too tired for this, you were hoping he wasn’t about to start an argument. Closing the door before anyone in the hallway could see him, you turned around only to be met with a hug. Which was kind of difficult seeing as Donnie was six foot six.

“What happened? Are you okay? Well, clearly not you’ve broken your leg! Do you need anything? Water? Hot water bottle? Do you need me to help scratch your leg? I’ve heard casts can be super scratchy.” Your boyfriend started to ramble. “Donnie! I’m fine, I just need to sit down. The elevator was out of order so I had to use the stairs.” You explained briefly before hobbling over to the couch. That was before Donnie scooped you up bridal style of course.

“Let me take care of you.” He smiled warmly. You were too exhausted to say anything but “Okay.” Laying you down on the sofa, Donnie got you some snacks, blankets and put your favorite movie on. Curling up into his arms you realized how truly grateful you were to have a boyfriend like Donatello. Kissing him on the cheek, you gave him an exhausted grin, staring into his emerald orbs before placing your head in the crook of his neck.

“I’m here for you always dove.”

“Thank you Donatello.”

You couldn’t lie to Mikey, you couldn’t even keep a secret from him. His face was like a magnet for your affection, and that included being truthful. Which meant you had to tell him that you broke your leg and that was why you had to cancel your date. So, when you texted him without saying why, he immediately asked if he could come over instead. Knowing it was better to go this over with sooner rather than later, you said it was okay.

Dreading the minutes in between the text and when he arrived, you sat there trying to get comfortable with, what felt like, an over sized cast. It was like slow torture on a mental and physical plane…which sucked. All you knew was that Mikey would be upset when he had seen what had happened, but he wouldn’t be angry…would he? You’ve never seen Mikey angry before, but that doesn’t mean he never had been angry. Anxiety started to build up in your chest, today had been challenging enough.

“Hey sweet cheeks! Sorry I took so long, want to pick up some pizza!” He chirped as he stumbled into your living room, leaving the window open. A draft picked up, causing you to shiver. As if sensing it, Mike picked up the nearest blanket, came over and wrapped you up in it. He then sat down next to you, completely ignoring your cast set on the pillow next to him, and took a slice out of the box.

“So how was your day?” He beamed. Sunlight was basically coming out of his cheeks at this point. “Uh…kinda horrible?” you chuckled to yourself, starting to find it funny that he hadn’t noticed yet. “Oh no, how come?” he then rubbed your leg. You gave him a look before gesturing to where his hand lay, looking down Mike finally put two and two together.

“Oh my god! What did you do?!”

“HAHAHA, I love you Mike.”

303 notes · View notes

bunnyywritings · 3 years

Text

fate is great

mirio togata x gn!reader

day 4: first date

word count: 1.2k

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬; 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟑 - 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭; 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟓

[a/n: I apologize for posting this a bit late, this is my first time writing for Mirio so I hope I did him justice. I know I’m doing ‘first date’ quite a lot, I’m worried I’m boring you all but I promise the fics will get better at the month progresses -yours truly, bunnyy -`ღ´-]

First dates were always scary.

The nerves, the uncertainty, the awkwardness.

But what’s even worse than an awkward first date? Being stood up for a first date.

The waiter looked at you with pity, asking if you wanted a refill on your water and breadsticks. You nodded, muttering a quiet, “yes please.” The hope that your date would still show up dwindled as the minutes ticked by. You should’ve listened to Nejire. She warned you that this might happen but you being the stubborn person you are, you insisted on going on the date.

Another hour had gone by and you had finished your second basket of breadsticks and your fifth glass of water. Once again, the waiter approached.

“I’m so sorry to do this but my manager said that if you don’t order anything, we’re going to have to ask you to give up the table.” His voice was thick with empathy, the frown on his face showed that he really didn’t want to do this to you.

“N-No no, it’s okay. I’ll just go.” You whispered pathetically, gathering yourself before getting up to leave.

“Once again, I’m so sorry. Have a good night.”

As you walked out, Mirio couldn’t help but feel like he had seen you somewhere before. You were sitting alone at a booth when he had come in for lunch. He would glance at you from time to time, watching curiously as you constantly checked your watch or attempted a phone call that always resulted in a disappointed huff from your lips and a frown as you hung up and placed your phone back on the table. Once he saw the waiter approach your table the second time, he had just paid for his check. Determined, he made a decision as you walked past. Getting up hastily and walking out after you. You were stood on the cub, eyes scanning the busy street for an available cab.

Subtly standing a few feet from you, he saw a few tears tread down your cheeks that were tinged red from the chilly wind. His heart constricted in his chest. Someone as stunning as you were shouldn’t be shedding tears over someone that didn’t deserve them. Digging through his pocket, he grabbed a spare tissue he had and approached you.

“Rough day?” He asked softly, so as not to startle you, and held the tissue out to you.

At the sound of someone beside you, you turned to see a very charming blond. A small smile on his face as he offered you a tissue.

“Uhm yeah, I guess so.” You reached out and grabbed the tissue. “Thank you.” You whispered, bringing the soft handkerchief to your eyes and wiped your tears, blowing out a bit of snot that had started to leak from your nose. “I was supposed to meet up with someone for a first date but they bailed on me and didn’t even let me know.”

“Well it’s their loss.” He responded quickly, the fact that there was no hesitation in his words surprised you. A complete stranger was angry for you. “They’re not worth your tears.”

“I- well thank you, really. That’s very kind of you.”

There was a silence between the two of you before a light bulb went off in Mirio’s head, eyes glinted with excitement before he turned to you once more.

“Let’s go on a date!”

“W-What?!” Your eyes were basically bulging out of your head.

“Yeah! I’ll take you on a first date!”

“But you’re a complete stranger!” He continued to smile at you. “You could be some psycho murderer, for all I know!”

“Oh I can assure you that I am not a psycho murderer.”

“...”

He was really cute and a bit intriguing. What’s the worst that can happen?

“Okay.” You sighed, taking a chance on this random guy.

“Great! How does the amusement park sound?” If he were a dog, his tail would be wagging.

“Amusement park?” You asked. You were well into your 20s...you had absolutely no business going to an amusement park.

“Yeah! Of course! Sounds fun doesn’t it?”

His optimism was infectious, you found yourself slowly starting to smile. “I guess it does.”

With an excited shout, he flagged down a cab. Opening the door for you as it pulled up to the curb, following you into the backseat and settling in.

“So, what’s someone like you doing being stood up by some blind jerk?”

“Blind idiot?”

“Well yeah, they’d have to be blind not to see how stunning you are and they’d also have to be a complete jerk to stand someone up.” His words were somewhat comforting and slightly overwhelming as you found yourself flushing red at his compliment.

“O-oh well I uh, I don’t know. I mean, I can’t say I really liked them. We matched online. My friend told me not to waste my time but I didn’t listen to her.”

“Smart friend.”

“Yeah, Nejire’s always been able to see the true intentions of people.” His eyes widened at your words.

“Hey! I know Nejire!”

Slightly startled by his sudden eureka, your eyes widened. “You do?”

“Yeah! We went to the same high school and she’s dating my buddy-”

“Tamaki.” Your voice echoed his as you chuckled in disbelief.

“Wow, small world.”

As the cab ride went on, the two of you started to get to know each other and you found yourself getting more and more excited for this ‘date.’

Wind whipped around in your ears as excited shouts and squeals left his and your lips, the roller coaster twisting and winding in ways you didn’t think were possible. The day had been very eventful. The both of you boarding multiple roller coasters and playing a few carnival games. Filling your bellies with funnel cake and nacho fries before excitedly boarding another ride.

The date was a slightly cheesy one but you had actually found yourself falling for this random guy that you met today. Well not random, Nejire’s boyfriend’s friend.

His smiles and laughter had set your heart ablaze, and you couldn't tell if the butterflies you were feeling was from the adrenaline rush of the roller coaster or if it was the way your hand fit perfectly in his. You also found yourself getting quite sad as the day had started to come to an end. The sun swapping places with the moon as the both of you boarded the final ride.

The ferris wheel.

It felt like the cliche scene of a romance novel or movie, and as the wheel slowly moved and your seat made it way to the top, his hand squeezed yours gently to grab your attention.

“You know (y/n), I didn’t believe in love at first sight until this afternoon when I saw you waiting at that table.” He swallowed the lump of nerves in his throat as his heart pounded so hard, he heard it in his ears. “Maybe it was fate that I chose to eat at lunch the same restaurant your date was at. Do you believe in fate?”

His eyes met yours and time stopped.

Your eyes were alluring as they reflected the beautiful gleam of the stars in the night sky, the moonlight illuminated your features in the most ethereal way and he couldn’t help but admire you.

“Now I do.”

He closed his eyes as you leaned forward, meeting his lips in a chaste, timid kiss. A giddy chuckle left his lips as he pulled you into his arms and pressed a few kisses to your lips.

Best first date ever.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 (open):@soul-of-rwby @randomesk-yuku @angeltsukkis

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha x gn!reader #mha x gn!reader #mirio togata x reader #mirio x reader #lemillion x reader #mirio togata x gn!reader #mirio x gn!reader #fluffvember #fluffvember 2020

78 notes · View notes

cafffine · 3 years

Note

Please keep Chewie posting, I literally love him so much

I'll never stop Chewie posting anon, in fact, here's a little fic about Chewie, beach trips, and his family just for you 😬💘 (read on ao3)

“Chewie,” Luke wheezed, wiping tears from his eyes. “Please, please, one more time.”

“Alright, okay, leave him alone,” Han grumbled. “I think we’ve heard enough.”

“No, no, one more!”

Chewbacca reached over and pat Han’s shoulder. “I don’t mind, but you are kind to look out for me.”

Han rolled his eyes and tapped away at the navi-computer. “Whatever, we’re gonna be there soon anyway.”

Leia gasped for breath and pushed herself back into the seat she’d slid out of. “Hold on, hold on I wasn’t ready, oh stars.”

Chewbacca smiled and busied himself with landing preparations while the twin’s laughter died down. He knew it made Han nervous sometimes, but he liked when everyone rode in the cockpit, traveling was better as a communal effort.

Luke leaned forward and popped his head between the pilot seats. “Okay, we’re good, please, just give it your best shot.”

“I’ll try,” Chewbacca hummed. “But it’s not going to come out right.”

Han reached up and got the stabilizers warming. “That’s the point, they’re making fun of you.”

“Han, Han,” Chewbacca soothed. “You’re too tense, I think you should take a nap once we arrive.”

“Oh, sure, and karking burn to death?”

“I brought an umbrella.” Chewbacca gestured to the back. “You will be safe.”

“Chewie, please,” Luke whined.

“Okay.” Chewbacca nodded. “Give me a moment.” The chances of success were in the negatives, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t give it his best.

He hummed a few times to ready his vocal cords and clear his throat, this alone was enough to send Leia into a fit once more.

“You can do it.” Luke kicked his sister. “I believe in you.”

Chewbacca gave Luke’s little blond head an appreciative scratch, maybe he could do it.

“Take it slow,” Han advised. “It’s only two syllables.”

Chewbacca took a deep breath. “H-E,” he barked out, doing his damnedest to replicate the impossible sounds of basic. “L-L-L-L-OH.”

Luke shrieked and collapsed to the floor.

“No, oh Gods.” Leia shook her head, her eyeliner was starting to run. “That is too – I can’t handle this.”

“Good try.” Han had to turn towards the radio to hide his laughter. “That was a good try, buddy.”

“I think I’m getting better.” Chewbacca flicked off the shields and began redirecting power to engines in preparation for the end of their jump. “You should have heard me fifty years ago.”

“Why wasn’t I recording?” Luke moaned. “Wedge would lose his mind if I played that for him.”

Leia fanned her face and kicked her feet up on Han’s armrest. “I’m going to be thinking about that all day, that was amazing.”

“Buckle up, both of you.” Han tapped Leia’s foot. “And someone needs to put sunscreen on my back.”

Chewbacca raised his hand. “I’d be happy to-”

“No.” Han grimaced. “Anyone but you. Your fur always gets in it and – augh – no.”

“Sunscreen?” Luke flopped back into his seat. “There’s only gonna be one sun, how bad could it be?”

Leia tossed a bottle into his lap. “Bad. And if you don’t put it on, I’ll tell Threepio.”

“Rude.” Luke threw the bottle back at her. “I’ll do it when we get there.”

“We are here.” Han leaned back and braced himself as the Falcon snapped out of hyperspace and began gliding towards the bright turquoise of southern Glee Anselm. “Now put the damn sunscreen on, kid. You’re paler than me.”

“And don’t forget the tips of your ears,” Chewbacca added. He couldn’t imagine how terrifying it was for humans and their baldness. He’d left Han out in the sun for too long once and his shoulders started to peel the next day, it was a trauma he was still recovering from.

“Chewie, can you pull the map up? I haven’t been here in ages.” Han squinted down at the distant strips of sand and kicked the engine down to just above the speed limit. “Man, I hope we can find parking.”

Leia frowned. “If we had borrowed the Phantom from Hera like I suggested that wouldn’t be a problem.”

“Sweetheart,” Han bit. “If we’d come in the Phantom, there’d be no one to stop Lando from taking my ship-”

“Who cares?” Leia tossed her hands up. “Let him have it! Who takes a freighter this big to the beach anyway?”

Han whipped around; finger raised. “Look, if you two want to fly yourself two kriffing systems over-”

“Oh, come on,” Luke groaned “What did I do?”

“-then you are welcome to use that pathetic little shuttle. But if you want me to get you there? We’re taking the Falcon.”

“Don’t argue, please, don’t argue.” Chewbacca reached over and gently guided Han’s attention back towards the window. “I’ll drop you all off at the entrance and park the ship myself.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Han muttered. “Don’t listen to them.”

“Them?” Luke squawked. “I haven’t done anything!”

“Shut up.” Leia threw the bottle of sunscreen back at his head. “It’s because he knows you’re on my side.”

“I am?”

“You are.”

“It’ll be fine,” Chewbacca assured. “Just message me where you pitch the umbrella and I’ll be there when I can.��

Han shook his head, still bitter about Leia’s betrayal. “I just don’t think we should split up. It’s winter on six of the planets in this system, the place is gonna be packed.”

“I’m very tall.” Chewbacca sat up straighter to demonstrate. “I’ll find you.”

“Hey, are we drinking?” Luke leaned forward again, ignoring Han’s annoyed glance. “I heard there’s a place near the lifeguard tent that serves Margaritas Shili style.”

“Like you could handle that,” Leia scoffed.

“Not me.” Chewbacca hit the switch for the landing gear. “I need to have a clear mind when I fly you all home, but you can enjoy yourselves.”

“What’d he say?” Luke asked.

Han chuckled. “He said go crazy.”

Luke thumped Chewbacca’s arm. “That’s why he’s my favorite.”

Chewbacca waited until the ship was stable, then took Han’s seat as the group began to gather their towels and tote bags. The sky outside was clear blue and the sand pure white, Chewbacca did not look forward to washing it out of his fur.

He couldn’t complain, though. They’d chosen a good day, the crowds were worth it. The sun was just direct enough to keep the water warm without making the sand too hot for sensitive human feet to walk on.

“I don’t care how good it is, do not pay more than twenty credits for parking,” Han instructed. “We are not a bunch of clueless tourists.”

“I know, I know.” Chewbacca waved him off. “I’ll find a good spot.”

“Thanks, Chewie!” Luke waved before skipping out into the sun, followed by his sister and a yawning Han.

“Don’t forget the umbrella!” Chewbacca called after them. “Han! The umbrella!”

“Yep, yeah, got it.” Han came dashing back up the gangway and snatched the folded umbrella off the table. “Thanks, pal.”

“You are welcome.”

Chewbacca waited to start the engine until he could see the three of them trudging through the sand and towards the water. Han was speaking angrily with his hands and Leia reached around him to bat Luke in the head with her inflatable doughnut.

Chewbacca was happy for them. “H-E,” he began, then shook his head, one battle at a time.

#my writing #anonymous #ask

9 notes · View notes

flouncingwiz-sevsnape · 4 years

Text

The Yule Ball

Request: I rlly liked ur last post and wanted to please request something kinda similar where the reader is a professor like sev and its the yule ball or just some fancy hogwarts ball and he asks her out there or something or they just kinda realise they like each other, thank you!! 🙂

A/N: I tried my best with this one, but I feel like I didn’t really capture Severus’ personality. This is definitely a little quicker and fluffier than the other ones, but I hope you like it anyways! BTW I’m still working on other requests!

(just a quick ps- if you want the story to have smut, you have to say so, otherwise i’ll just make it fluff)

Severus x Reader (professor)

Warnings: fluff

You’ve been teaching at Hogwarts for a few years now, but this was the first formal dance that you’d ever attended as a staff member. You could vaguely recall some sort of ball during your 4th year, but you didn’t remember any details. As Albus assigned decoration duty you looked over at Severus and rolled your eyes, he smirked back. You knew you were both thinking the same thing: ‘Do I have to dress up?’ You were pretty, but you didn’t like to wear anything but basic robes and you only wore makeup for special events. The headmaster’s voice answered your internal inquiries soon enough though.

‘Let this be your reminder that staff members are expected to dress up for tonight.’ His twinkling blue eyes scanned the room for signs of dissent, and soon enough they rested on Snape who looked rebellious and angry. ‘Yes, Severus, that includes you too.’

Snap sneered in response and opened his mouth to speak but Minerva stomped down on his foot, so he remained quiet shooting her a glare. As Dumbledore finished his announcements the staff filed out of the lounge and headed off to decorate their assigned areas. On your way to the Great Hall, you couldn’t help but think about the exciting chances that lay ahead, despite having to dress up. The truth was, you had been crushing on Severus since your first day on staff. Even though it was wishful thinking, you had a small fantasy of you and him dancing together and maybe even taking things a little further…

‘Bloody hell! Bloody hell! This is so typical!’ you thought as you hurried down to the Great Hall. You had been on your way to the ball when you came across Peeves filling a classroom with soap suds, cackling madly. As he zoomed off, the bubbles started to attack you, and while they’re not exactly harmful, being pelted by soap blobs isn’t exactly a fun experience either. So now you were twenty minutes late to the dance, soap clinging to parts of your dress, despite your best efforts to scourgify yourself clean. Sighing, you rushed through the doors and slinked over to where the rest of the staff was standing, hoping not to attract too much attention. Of course, immediately upon your arrival Severus had caught sight of you and was sneering, amusedly. You and he had an interesting relationship of always making fun of the other, but also laughing at the stupidity of students together. Shooting him an angry scowl you shuffled in place next to Hagrid and stared at the dance floor. The champions were just finishing their opening dance and students were pouring onto the dance floor joining them now.

Severus was just wondering where y/n was when he caught sight of you, breathless, covered in… were those bubbles? Of course even with the bubbles you were absolutely stunning. Snape let his eyes take you in quickly. Y/n was wearing an icy blue dress, haired curled and pinned up, and seemed to be sparkling alongside the decorations. You shot him a glare, and he averted his gaze quickly.

‘Oh dear me, Y/n looks radiant, does she not Severus?’ Minerva was leaning over, whispering smugly. She knew that he fancied you, and she had been encouraging him all day to ask you to dance. He shot her a withering look, but McGonagall did not shrink away. She, instead, continued her agitating speech. ‘It would be such a shame to let such an opportunity go to waste, you know.’ Severus opened his mouth to reply but saw you walking towards him, eyebrow raised, so he quickly growled at Minerva, ‘give it a rest, will you?’ Snape stepped forward, willing himself to look bored, despite the butterflies swooping in his stomach.

You and Severus locked eyes and he stepped forward, as if to talk to you. You were really nervous around him tonight. He looked really sexy in his form fitting robes and it looked as if he had styled his hair (or at least tried to). You composed yourself as much as you could before walking towards him.

You opened your mouth to speak, but Snape had already spoken. ‘Pathetic, isn't it? All these kids obsessed with this ball?’ He looked extremely bored, but his eyes were locked on you intensely.

‘It is a little sad. But Severus, you have to admit, the music isn’t half bad,’ you shot him a playful smirk before continuing, ‘and besides dressing up can be fun.’

He raised an eyebrow at this and replied, ‘I despise having to dress up, I feel too… conceited.’ His dark eyes flicked around the room once before resting back on you.

‘Well, if it’s worth anything, you look dashing,’ you smiled jokingly but meaning every word of it. His lips tightened, so you redirected the conversation. ‘Oh, my gosh this song is a classic!’

You both paused to listen as The Weird Sisters played their slow song Magic Works. The lead singer’s voice drifted across the room, ‘and make… your final move… Mmm, don't be scared…. She wants you to…’ For some reason as he sang these lyrics, you couldn’t help but glance at Severus, silently pleading that he might ask you to dance. He avoided your eyes and looked instead at Minerva, to his right. You didn’t notice, but she was urging him on with aggressive hand waves and thumbs up. Snape turned back to you, eyes now glittering. You blushed, feeling stupid about ever expecting to dance with him and trained your gaze on the ground.

‘Despite it being… pathetic, do you have any interest in… dancing… with me?’ his drawled out proposal took you by surprise and whipped your head up to face him.

‘Yes,’ you said at once, a smile flashing across your face. You took a quick breath and continued, ‘Severus, I would love to.’ He gave you a rare, half smile, half smirk, before holding out his hand regally. You took it and he led you a few meters away to an open spot on the outskirts of the dance floor. Even though he seemed reluctant to ask, he was firm and took control of the dance right away, grabbing your waist with both hands. Goosebumps ran down your back at his touch, and your stomach swooped around in excitement. You draped your arms around his neck and stepped closer to him, breathing in softly. He smelled of a tantalising mixture of pine and mint and you smiled to yourself. You danced in silence for a little while, both holding each other tightly, before Severus spoke again.

‘Y/n, I think you’re gorgeous.’ You looked up at him and smiled, heart pounding faster by the minute. Your eyes locked and you started to play with his hair distractedly as you swayed back and forth. This was perfect. It was everything you had wanted it to be.

Your moment of bliss was broken as soon as the song ended and Severus pulled away from you. He glanced around the room again before taking your hand and stalking towards the corridors. You followed him, not daring to speak, but a feeling of excitement washing over you.

The hall was dark and chilly and you shivered as the sounds of the ball grew quieter. Suddenly, Snape whipped around to face you, a curious look on his face, dark eyes flashing. You let out a small gasp but stood your ground, extremely unsure of what was happening. Moonlight illuminated the dark stone corridor and Severus looked enticing. All the suspense and excitement had culminated to this moment, and without a second thought, you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him. He stiffened under your touch but didn’t jerk away. Slowly, you felt him relax into you, his hands pulling your waist closer to him. A small sigh escaped your lips as he deepened the kiss and you, again, found your fingers tangled in his dark hair. Finally pulling away, the both of you breathing heavily, Severus grabbed your hand and looked into your eyes with such emotion, it took you off guard.

‘Y/n,’ he stepped closer, voice low and raspy, ‘I cannot believe I am asking this, but-’

You cut him off with another kiss. ‘Yes. Whatever it is, yes.’ He looked extremely relieved that he didn’t have to finish his inquiry, and he pressed you against the cold stone wall, planting another kiss on your lips. You stayed in the hall, tangled up in each other’s embrace until you heard footsteps and Severus pulled away, straightening his robes.

A pair of students were sneaking down the corridor, planting slobbery kisses on each other every few steps. Snape rolled his eyes and watched them, clearly unimpressed.

‘And… where exactly… do you think you are off to?’ Even though his back was turned, you could just picture his eyebrow raised and a triumphant sneer on his face. ‘Back to the Great Hall. Now.’ The kids scurried off looking both frightened and guilty. Severus looked over his shoulder slowly before striding over, a hungry look in his eyes.

‘Insolent students,’ you tilted your head to the side before continuing, ‘don’t they know that kissing in the corridors is strictly prohibited?’ He quirked an eyebrow and smirked before you pulled his face to yours and pressed your lips to his…

#severus snape #severus x reader #snape #snapedom #Pro Snape #snape x reader #snape fluff #severus snape fanfiction #hp fanfic #halfblood prince #no sn8

191 notes · View notes

buckybabybaby · 5 years

Text

Mr Hollywood (Chapter 1)

Summary: Bucky Barnes, an underpaid teaching assistant in a small English village, dreams of a movie career back in his home country of America. He finally gets the break he's always wanted, and if it wasn't for you, his best friend, he wouldn't have been able to take it. But is that fact enough to save your friendship when it's tested by the pressures of Hollywood?

A/n: I started writing this in September 2017 so it's long over due being posted. I've only written one series so far, and that was nearly two years ago so I may be out of practice, but this is a story that’s been floating around in my head for years so... I really hope people like it! I think I'll aim to post every weekend, and by putting this out today I'm hoping I force myself to write more.

Proof read by way of a text-speech device.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader (Gender Neutral)

Word count: 1959

Warnings: None for now!

Mr Hollywood Masterlist

Main Masterlist.

*****

Mr Barnes, of Wild Fields Primary School, looks exactly like one of those teachers that pop up in viral tweets because they are just too attractive not to be shared with the world, but as a Year One teaching assistant, the children he helps are far too young to be affected by his appearance. But then there are their parents.

You have spent many a school play, summer fête, and open evening watching them watching him, and wondering how it is that he appears so calm in the face of such obvious flirting. The effort some of the single mums and dads, as well as a few of the very married ones, make with their appearances when they think he might be at an event is laughable.

Or at least it would be funny if it wasn't so embarrassing.

Bucky first arrived four years ago, and as an American in a sleepy English village, he had caused quite the stir. During the first few weeks his every move was watched by the residents like a new exhibit at the zoo, and that was partly how you had become friends, after feeling the need to defend him against one particularly rude busybody who made a comment about his suitability to teach at the school.

The grateful smile he sent your way melted your heart and the two of you have be inseparable ever since.

Now, with three weeks to go until the summer holidays there's a buzz around the school, but this Monday afternoon your class have been remarkably calm, flipping through their books during 'reading time' in near silence as you sit at your desk trying not to bite your nails. The second hand on the clock at the front of the schoolroom appears to be slowing down the longer you stare at it, but you can't concentrate on your lesson planning when you don't know what is wrong with Bucky.

He's been weird all day and you need to find out why. Playground duty at mid-morning break meant you hadn't had a chance to speak to him then, and he wasn't anywhere obvious at lunch, so you've had to just watch through the small window separating your classroom with the one he was working in today as he pulled at his hair harder than usual. Even without confronting him you can tell something is up, and you hope to catch him before he leaves at the end of the day.

The last bell finally rings, and you usher your pupils out as quick as you can without looking desperate, excusing them from putting their chairs tidy under their desks because you can see Bucky doing the same. You don't like the idea of him going home in the state he seems to be in without talking to someone.

When the last stragglers eventually wish you farewell you hurry out too and walk briskly along the corridor to the other Year One classroom, dimly aware there may be other children still inside who you don't want to break the 'no running' rule in front of. As the lights are switched off you assume the room is deserted, so you're about to rush off to the staff room in the hope of intercepting him when a shadow near the window catches your eye.

Opening the door, you slip in quietly. “Bucky?” He doesn't move, only making a noise in response, a low hum that does nothing to reassure you. “Are you okay?”

That question seems to shake him out of his haze. He tilts his head to look back at you, then nods towards the table he's sitting on, a silent invitation to join him. You do, searching his face for an answer when he turns towards you.

“I feel sick.”

Okay, so he's ill. That makes sense, as you know how hard it is to try and work when you're not feeling one hundred per cent, and he does look pale.

“Do you want me to take you home? I can make you some soup if-”

“Not that sort of sick,” He interrupts. “Nervous sick.”

“Oh.”

“Can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

“It's a secret.”

“Okay?”

“I, er,” He takes a deep breath. “You know that teaching, or assisting at teaching, wasn't ever something I really wanted to do. I just fell in to it, sort of. But it's not that I don't enjoy it! I love it, most days, and sometimes I think I could do this for the rest of my life and be okay with it. It's just that it is always going to feel like a substitute for what I really want to do, and... I'm not explaining my self very well am I?”

You shake your head with a small laugh. “You are rambling a bit, are you sure you're not ill?”

“Nah, I'm just a bit dazed. I got a call back. A big one.”

Your eyebrows raise as he says that. A call back? You were aware that with his degree in theatre he always wanted to pursue work in TV or film, but when his twin brother was transferred over to a specialist rehabilitation hospital in the UK, he had to abandon that dream and move here to care for him.

As soon as Dayton had recovered he encouraged him to get back to what he loved, and from going to open auditions Bucky had landed a few roles in adverts, mainly for the radio, but he's been very quiet on that front recently.

You haven't said anything, still trying to understand how he managed to keep this from you. “Here, this might help explain.” He hands you his phone, open on an email which you scan quickly. And again. Then once more, taking time to read every word carefully and process the potentially life changing information it contained.

You look back at him, mirroring his wide-eyed expression. “Stark? Stark Pictures?” He nods. “And they need to see you again? When did you go before, what is this?”

“Last weekend when I went to London.” He swallows. “It's not a commercial this time.”

“I can see that. Gosh Bucky, does this say what I think it does?” You don't give him a chance to reply before you bombard him with more questions, “What TV show is it? Who would you play? It says here it's a screen test for chemistry, so it's more than just a simple call back isn't it? Bucky, why didn't you tell me any of this?”

“I didn't think anything would come of it,” He says, staring out of the window and choosing not to answer your other queries. “And it doesn't matter anyway 'cos I'm not going.”

“What?” You whip around to face him, astonished. “What do you mean you're not going?”

“Look at where it is Y/N,” He whispers. “I can't afford flights back to America, especially at the moment.”

Silence follows as you think about the frankly pathetic wage an assistant teacher gets. With his rent, bills and the train fare to visit his brothers new home he was basically living pay check to pay check.

“Can't they pay for you?” You say eventually.

“I don't want to ask.”

You sigh, knowing how proud Bucky can be, how he'd rather struggle than ask for help. He's been like that his entire life, according to Dayton, and you can almost hear his exasperated voice scolding him. For Dayton's sanity, and for the sake of Bucky's future, you do the only thing you can.

Hopping off the table and pulling out your own phone you hold it up against his. “Okay, so you need to be there for the afternoon of the seventh. Which means,” You pause to scroll down the website, “With time differences...”

Bucky approaches you slowly, eyeing your phone. “Y/N, what are you doing?”

“Booking your flights. Hope you don't mind economy?” Ignoring his squeak of protest, you dodge out of his reach as you continue to type. “You won't need any hold luggage will you?”

“Y/N, please, stop,” He tries again, succeeding in grabbing your phone this time but you snatch it back just as quick, walking backwards away from him as he whines. “I can't ask you too do this.”

“You didn't ask, I'm offering. Now what's your passport number?”

“Y/N, I'm not going to let you do this.”

Stopping in front of him you meet his eye, silently daring him to refuse. “No best friend of mine is going to miss a screen test at Stark Pictures, when the role is yours in everything but name. Not over a few hundred measly pounds. Okay? Passport number.”

Realising you've adopted your 'teacher voice' to reason with him, you clear your throat, not wanting him to feel belittled. You know it must be hard for him to accept help. He's still standing there looking pained, so you try one last time. “Please Bucky, this is your dream, don't let your pride get in the way. Plus, you'll be able to pay me back ten times in a month.”

That last part seems to work. His frown disappears and he pulls you into his arms while you're still typing, crushed against his chest as he laughs through tears.

“Twenty times,” He promises into your hair, and you completely believe he would.

****

Bucky's flight home landed half an hour ago but there's still no sign of him. The couple of days before he left on Friday flew by, then the weekend seemed to drag as you awaited his return, and now you can't sit still as you stare down Heathrow's arrivals gate, wondering if you should have made him a 'welcome back!' sign like the family next to you.

He doesn't actually know you're here to meet him, and you're hoping he hasn't managed to slip past you in the crowds as the announcement warning against leaving baggage unattended plays for the umpteenth time.

A group of university students sporting Dodgers caps pass by and you stand in anticipation. On spotting Bucky walking through the doors you begin to move in his direction, shouting at him across the hall louder than you intended, but the attention of others doesn't bother you as his tired smile morphs in to a full grin in realisation. You speed up your pace to close the distance between the two of you until he's dropping his holdall, reaching out for you and lifting you off your feet to spin you around.

“You didn't say you were coming!” His excitement is for more than your surprise presence, you can tell, and that's almost enough evidence of how this trip went. Before he'd gone out, one of the producers had emailed him to say they were okay with him working his notice and staying until the summer holidays started, and from that you had interpreted that they were pretty certain he was going to be the one they cast, but you still need to hear him say it.

“Never mind that,” You pull away to watch his face. “Well? Did you get it?”

“No, sweetheart, I'm this happy because I didn't.”

You roll your eyes as he smirks at you, but you know what he is actually saying and he holds you tighter as you offer your congratulations, so pleased for him you could burst.

He sets you down and you smooth out his jumper, beaming up at him. “Come on then Mr Hollywood, two more weeks of term, better make them count.”

Bucky laughs at that and lets you lead him towards the train station to go home, or at least home for the next few weeks, until he starts his new life in Los Angeles and everything changes.

*****

Chapter 2

#bucky barnes x reader #buckybabybaby #Mr Hollywood #bucky imagine

67 notes · View notes

dahliadreamcraft · 5 years

Text

Lament of Innocence AU

So I’m working on a fanfic of Castlevania that is basically “Frankenstein is the villain instead of Dracula”. However this au is in turn based in an au of Lament of Innocence instead of canon Lament of Innocence.

This post was originally going to be a bunch of random facts about the Lament of Innocence AU, mostly focused on giving Sara more character and her own backstory, and rewriting things so that they make more sense with the cartoon.

It ended up turning into a plot outline of the prequel to Requiem of Resurrection ( the name of the actual Franken Leon fanfic when I get around to actually writing it).

Which I’m putting under a read more so that it doesn’t end up turning into a ridiculously long post on people’s dashboards.

Also @darkartist98 for the freaking AMAZING fanart you did of Franken Leon. That inspired me to start posting content again and actually start working on the AU like I was supposed to. This doesn’t feature Franken Leon quite yet, this is all backstory but I thought you might like to know it.

*TRIGGER WARNING: One of the characters commits suicide. While I am going to do my best to treat the subject with all the gravity and respect it deserves, this is still a sensitive subject matter that I feel should be warned for.

Lament of Innocence is a tragedy. This doesn’t have a good end.

*Mathias was a vampire for at least two thousand years before Lament of Innocence happened

*Mathias is the “king of the vampires” by virtue of being the oldest. Bernhard is the second oldest. A vampire by the name of Oriana (inspired by the Witcher series) was the third eldest.

*Leon was eighteen when he first became a knight and actually earned his baron title by defeating a basilisk.

*The town the basilisk was menacing was where he met Sara and her father Rinaldo (I combined Sara and Rinaldo’s backstories)

*Sara gives him the first prototype vampire killer which she made.

*Sara eventually also makes the real Vampire Killer along with its upgrade Morningstar.

*Sara and Rinaldo are originally from Italy but came to France following Bernhard.

*Sara is a polyglot, which is a fancy term for she learns languages uncannily quick. She was damn near fluent in French and barely had an accent when she meets Leon for the first time and she’d only been in France for a year. The accent completely disappears a few months later.

*Sara was a young girl when Bernhard kidnapped her sister Gabriella, starved her to the point of madness, and let her loose outside of Sara’s home. Sara’s brother managed to throw her inside their father’s workshop to protect her just before Gabriella killed him.

*Her brother’s screams still haunt Sara’s nightmares.

*Rinaldo made it back in time to kill Gabriella before she could force her way into the workshop to kill Sara.

*He still has nightmares about that night.

*It was not love at first sight for Leon and Sara. Despite Sara giving him the whip, neither of them thought they were going to see the other again after that day.

*After Leon (with Trefor’s help) killed the Basilisk thanks to the whip Sara gave him (because his sword broke during the fight) Leon is so high off of the win and the fact they didn’t die that he finds Sara again to thank her and in his excitement kisses her.

*He comes back down to earth and starts to apologize but Sara waves him off saying ‘there are far worse things than being kissed by a cute knight’.

*Despite this they still didn’t think much of it when he left to go report to his captain about the basilisk being dead.

*On his way back from the basilisk fight he comes across an exceptionally tall vampire about to rip some poor bastard’s throat out.

*He attacks Mathias with his new whip, which causes him to drop the man out of shock because the whip actually hurt him. Not much, but the fact it did anything at all was amazing.

*Mathias at first thinks Leon is just some upstart vampire hunter, and accuses him of believing in superstitions because of the cross he is wearing at the time.

*Leon’s response becomes ingrained in Mathias’s memory.

*Said response was ‘I wear a cross because I’m Catholic. You prick.”

*Leon keeps refusing to be impressed by any of Mathias’s grandeur showboating and that leads to a fight.

*Leon gets his ass kicked and the whip gets torn up.

*Mathias decides to let Leon live however, instead stealing the cross necklace he was wearing at the time.

*Leon ends up having to go back to Sara and Rinaldo to get another whip.

*And that is how Leon ended up becoming a vampire hunter.

*Over the next three years Mathias keeps coming back to pick fights with Leon, each time Sara’s whips getting better and better but still not quite good enough.

*Leon and Sara also end up getting closer and closer until Leon proposes to her.

*Mathias crashes their wedding to pick another fight with Leon.

*Sara gets her revenge for this about a month later when he appears in their kitchen and she hits him in the face with a frying pan.

*Leon is where the Belmont impulse to fight the supernatural “because it’s the right thing to do” comes from. Sara is where the Belmont impulse to fight the supernatural “BECAUSE FUCK YOU” comes from.

*Mathias never quite lives the frying pan down.

*Meanwhile Sara’s best friend Elizabetha meets a tall handsome stranger one night. This tall handsome stranger is totally unrelated (no it isn’t it’s Mathias).

*The event that finally leads Leon and Mathias to becoming friends is right after Sara creates the true Vampire Killer using a blood ritual that creates a bond between Leon and the whip.

*Leon and Mathias get into another fight, but this time Leon says something that strikes a chord with Mathias.

* “You’re old enough to have seen all of these great things, old enough to have witnessed history itself, but never did any actual witnessing? You’re bragging about all the things you missed. That’s nothing to be proud of, all it means is that you’ve spent the past however many thousand years just...existing! That’s not respectable, that’s just pathetic.”

*Mathias leaves in a huff but while he does Bernhard comes in and attacks Leon (who is exhausted from his fight with Mathias.)

*I won’t get too graphic here in the interest of avoiding triggering anyone but let me put it this way. Bernhard is the vampire equivalent of a serial killer torturing small animals before eventually moving on to people (other vampires). Leon is the small animal.

*Mathias comes back and after seeing Leon in horrible shape (he’s barely alive at this point) realizes he actually cares about Leon quite a bit and doesn’t want to see him dead.

*Mathias then proceeds to fight Bernhard and saves Leon’s life.

*And that is how they end up becoming friends.

*Over the next ten years a lot happens.

*Leon and Sara have two children. The eldest Sonia and the youngest Gabriel.

*Mathias and Trefor are named the godfathers.

*Mathias gives Leon and Sara a mirror that allows them to communicate and even venture through to the mirror on Castlevania’s end.

*Elizabetha and Mathias get closer as well, Elizabetha in fact is the reason Mathias learns so much about the medical field and the human body. She wanted real methods to actually treat people inside of “throwing tea leaves at the problem and hope it works.”

*Sara still makes whips and other alchemical weapons in hopes of defeating Bernhard one day, which leads to the creation of the Morningstar upgrade.

*However one day Elizabetha dies unexpectedly. It’s the first major bereavement Mathias has ever hand in over two thousand years.

*It is then that it hits Mathias just how little time he has left with Leon and Sara.

*He wants them to become vampires themselves.

*They both refuse.

*Mathias, knowing that they would hate him if he forced them to become vampires, instead tries to manipulate the matter in his favor.

*He pretends to have gotten bored of Leon and Sara, and suggests to Bernhard that a good way to get Leon to come to him would be to take and turn Sara.

*This goes horrifically wrong.

*Bernhard does to Sara what he did to her sister, starving her and once she went mad with bloodlust, he lets her lose inside her and Leon’s village.

*She massacres the entire village of people she personally knew for the better part of a decade. Sonia and Gabriel barely make it in time to hide from her inside the basement with Trefor.

*When she comes back to her senses she’s drenched in the blood of all the people she knew from their village.

*Sara, unable to cope with the overwhelming guilt of having massacred her own village or the prospect of living with that knowledge for thousands of years, kills herself.

*Leon comes back just in time to see the results of what Sara had done and what she did to herself.

*Bereft and angry, Leon takes the Morningstar whip and hunts down Bernhard, and finally is the one to put an end to the vampire.

*Just before he disappears into dust however, he reveals the true mastermind behind Sara’s turning.

*Leon is completely crushed by the revelation.

*Mathias meanwhile is just discovering how horrifically wrong his plan went and goes to Bernhard’s castle with the intent of killing him in the slowest most painful way he could manage.

*Instead he finds Leon just outside the ruins of Bernhard’s castle, tears running down his face and hatred in his eyes.

*Leon attacks Mathias, beside himself with rage and grief and betrayal.

*This time Leon wins.

*But he ends up sparing Mathias. Not because of their friendship, but because it’s the cruelest thing he can think of doing to Mathias, forcing him to live with the consequences of his actions.

*He swears that the Belmont line will haunt Dracula’s every step from now on, that they will kill every vampire who dares try to harm humanity and never again will they put their trust in a vampire.

*Mathias moves to Wallachia and Leon takes Sonia and Gabriel and goes there too. Trefor follows knowing that Leon needed a friend to help raise Sonia and Gabriel.

*Five years later however, Leon dies of a similar illness to Elizabetha.

*Sonia contacts Mathias via the mirror to inform him of Leon’s passing. She angrily declares however that she will continue what he started, and that she won’t let any other vampire hurt people the way Mathias had hurt her parents, had hurt her and her brother

*She then through tears informs him that this was goodbye. That if they ever met again, she would fight to kill him, or die trying.

*Sonia then uses the morning star whip to destroy the mirror.

*The pain and loss of losing all three of the people he had come to love and care for, the fact his godchildren now hate him and he now has to fight Leon’s family for the forseeable future, ends up physically aging Mathias in a way time hadn’t.

And this is how Lament of Innocence happens.

#Lament of Innocence #Castlevania #Leon Belmont #Mathias Cronqvist #Sara Tarntoul #Actually she's technically Sara Gandolfi in this because she's Rinaldo's daughter but whatever #This entire AU can be summed up with the line IT SUCKS TO BE LEON.

69 notes · View notes

avelera · 5 years

Note

For your Misc/Angst Starter prompt, I'd love to see what you would do with "I don't want to be alone tonight".

Oof, it was good to put this together if only to break the block I’ve had lately. More H/C than pure angst, and kinda more of a “fuck you” to the Precursors than H/C, but it was nice to try my hand at “immediately post-Uprising” fic :3 I hope you like it!

Newt/Hermann, 1,200 words

—

I’ll Be Here Waiting

There were moments when Newton was lucid, or at least seemed lucid, Hermann had to remind himself. After ten years without detection, it was only safe to assume the Precursors could mimic Newton to such an extent that every word out of his mouth was suspect.

At least the PPDC had moved him from that wretched torture implement of a chair into a cell, albeit a small one. Glass walls, basic facilities, all in view, a slot for meals. He was allowed guests only if they had clearance, which at this point meant his only guest was Hermann.

The Precursors prowled within like a caged tiger. On the surface, they had given up the pretense of being Newton since the day of capture. They saw to their host’s bodily needs as if maintaining a machine, paced the narrow space presumably to prevent muscle atrophy, ate the food given without complaint, and stared out of the glass with flat, hate-filled eyes. They smirked their way through the answers Jake Pentecost would routinely, hopelessly toss at them. About their numbers, about their capabilities, answering none of them except with a reminder that Earth was doomed. That they would never stop coming.

“You’re back,” the Precursors drawled as Hermann took his usual spot in the chair set up outside the corner of Newton’s cell. There was a flap in the otherwise bullet-proof glass wall beside him, one of the few spots where he could, in theory, reach through to touch Newton. Where Newton could, in theory, take his hand if it was offered. Or crush it in his grip, with the same awful strength he’d exhibited when the Precursors lifted Hermann by the throat. The thought sent a shiver of goose bumps over his skin. He settled back in the chair and leaned his cane against the glass. “You really think that you’re gonna get anything out of this that the PPDC’s golden boy couldn’t?”

“No,” Hermann said honestly. “I have no illusions on that count, of that I can assure you.”

“Yeah? So what’s it like out there?” the Precursor’s said with Newt’s lips. There was something predatory about them now that they’d given up the facade, something reptilian, as if Newt’s tongue would dart out any second to sample the air. There were still traces of Newt’s mannerisms however, the brashness, the shrill voice, a hint of his devil-may-care attitude, as if they didn’t know any other way to be, didn’t know his behavior was unique to the soul it belonged to and not a general human trait. “Buried all the bodies yet? It looked like a nasty mess out there before your bullies locked us up.”

“Ah-ah, you know the rules,” Hermann said, wagging an admonishing finger. “No information about the outside world for you. If you think my attachment to Newton means I’ll be your weak link, then you are sadly mistaken.”

“Your attachment,” the Precursor scoffed. “You really think that will be enough to free him, don’t you? When it wasn’t even enough for you to notice he was gone, that we had taken him. Some attachment! Why even pretend you’re concerned for him and not here for your war effort, your pathetic invasion?”

Does Newton hear you? Hermann wondered. Is this for my benefit or his? He remembered Newton’s words the day of the attack, how he saw himself as an insignificant joke of a man. Had those been his words or the Precursors? What had they told him about Hermann? That he was a fool, or else that he didn’t care that Newton was taken from beneath his nose? Hermann flipped to the next page and didn’t look up. “Believe what you will. I’m not here for the PPDC.”

A pause. “Then why are you here?”

Hermann looked up and saw the Precursors were frowning, brow furrowed in obvious confusion, the bluster gone. He sighed and decided for honesty. Newton, I hope you’re there. I hope you’re listening. “I don’t want to be alone tonight… and I don’t want Newton to be either.”

He felt naked saying those words, to leave himself so exposed before the enemy and their mockery.

“He can’t hear you, you know,” the Precursors sneered as they recovered themselves. “He’s buried too deep. If you’re here for him then you’re wasting your time.”

Hermann flinched and covered the motion by looking back down at the data pad. “Perhaps. Perhaps you have such an iron grip that you can keep perfect control, prevent him from hearing anything I have to say, and I’ll have wasted my time.

“Or… perhaps you’re lying and he can hear me right now when I say I couldn’t care less whether you speak at all. Unlike my superiors, I don’t believe interrogation has any value. You could simply lie. I’m here for Newton. Because I... care for him. Because I want him to know I’m here and I will never, ever leave his side again. Because I am sorry that I did not figure out sooner what had happened to him, and because I’m sorry it was so easy for me to believe he would leave me behind for better things, but that was because I’ve always known he was brilliant, that Newton could accomplish anything he set his mind to, even when the thought terrified me. It was only easy because it was easy for me to believe I was the inadequacy in his life, that I was holding him back. I hope he can hear me. But even if he cannot, I’ll be here in case one day he can, because I believe he is stronger than you dare admit.”

Hermann started upright at the sound of something striking the glass, his head whipping to the side to see Newton hunched over, one palm pressed flat to the glass wall between them. There was sweat prickling at his hair line and his breath emerged in heavy gasps. His body shook as he raised his head and met Hermann’s eye.

“Keep… keep talking, I…” Newt wheezed. His mouth worked as if to say more but only a strangled noise emerged and he pounded his hand once against the glass in frustration. The last look he shot at Hermann was pleading - pleading for him to hear, to understand.

Hermann was up out of the chair like a shot, pressed up against the glass so close his breath misted in front of him. “I know you’re in there, Newton, just keep fighting them!”

Newt nodded curtly, as if in confirmation, the struggle visible in the clenching of his jaw to even do that much. Hermann wanted to say more, to say everything that he’d failed to over the last ten years. There was no knowing for sure even if this was Newton but the words rose unbidden, reassurances and explanations, entreaties that Newton come back to him, confessions…

Newton jerked away from the glass, body straightening and a hand going up to slick the hair back from his face. The coldness was back, the reptilian gleam in his eyes, but the sneer on his lips was not so cold, not so composed as the last time. There was a definite twist of irritation.

“Pathetic,” the Precursors snarled, and their lips twisted into a mocking smile. “A few seconds of control is what you’re holding out for? He’s had those before. They never mattered.”

Adrenaline surged through Hermann’s veins and his heart pounded as he straightened. “Ah, but don’t you see, this time is different.” He offered a mocking smile of his own. “This time, he has me.”

#newmann #pacific rim #prompt fic #my writing #alsobarebear

57 notes · View notes

mediiciis · 6 years

Text

♡ To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before (JONSA AU) ♡ ↳ Also on A03

⯈ PART TWO: “The way it happens is a strange sort of serendipity.”

NOTES: *You know that thing I said about updating this fic every day? Let’s just forget that, k? lmao **I was planning to. I really was. But I basically overestimated my ability for brevity i.e it doesn’t exist. And I decided I wanted it to be longer, and more detailed, just...meatier. Which I just couldn’t do every day. So I went away to work on it...and this is unfortunately, because of life and stuff, the soonest I could get anything of substance posted. ***Soooo...I know it’s been 84 years and you’ve probably lost interest. But I hope you enjoy it all the same. ****The next update will not be as long in coming. And I mean it this time....I know, I know. Promises, promises. But...I have all the chapters outlined. So it shouldn’t take me so long to piece it all together....she says this now lol. *****Anyway, yep. Thanks for being patient! ❤

He won't stop calling me.

I let the current call go to Voicemail and then cease my obsessive pacing of my bedroom and pick up my phone with an anxious wince, despite knowing exactly what it will say.

12 missed calls – Gendry Waters.

I groan and continue walking from one side of the room to the other, one hand clutching my phone - the damn thing like a grenade just waiting to explode yet again in my palm – and the other at my mouth as I nibble my poor fingernails to nubs.

Like clockwork, my demonic ringtone blasts out from my hand, and I throw myself face first onto the bed, burying my face in the cushions and whimpering like an overgrown baby, as the mountain of pillows muffle my anguished cry.

No sooner has the last call ended than my phone chimes with the sound of a message, and my head whips to the side. So long as he was calling me, I could block myself off to whatever he had to say. But clearly realising he was getting nowhere by waiting for me to pick up, he's obviously decided to strike at me from a different angle.

Jerk!

I hesitate before finally reaching out...and even then my hand hovers inches from the phone beside my pillow.

After a standoff that lasts far too long for an inanimate object, I scowl at myself and sigh, grabbing the bull by the horns – so to speak – and swiping the damn thing towards me almost violently.

I hold my breath as my eyes scan over the text on the lock screen.

'WE NEED TO TALK!!!'

Oh shit.

All caps? THREE exclamation points?

NOT TODAY, SATAN!

CONTINUED…

I power my phone down and shove it under my pillow just for good measure, before whipping around onto my back and staring up at the ceiling.

There are still some of those old, worn, glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to the faded and cracking paint, that I plastered up there when I was little. And my eyes get stuck on one in particular next to the lampshade as my thoughts begin to wander.

I breathe deeply through the new, merciful silence filling the room. Turning my phone off probably should have been the first thing I did when I got home, but I guess I'm conditioned to always have it with me, like a lifeline or limb, and cutting myself off from it feels...unnatural, somehow.

Besides, I was far too busy earlier to think of anything else except – pardon my language – freaking the fuck out.

I managed to convince the nurse that I had a sore throat after...well, let's just call it The Event. And from that moment on, I had had a one track mind: get home, get to the letters. A stupid as shit plan really considering I knew for a fact that at least two of them were out there in the world, causing havoc and ruining my perfectly ordered - if slightly dull – life.

And just as I expected, after I'd raced up to my room and torn my bottom drawer apart in search of the box I kept them in...I found the bastard thing gone. And all 5 letters with it.

I found it hard to shed a tear for the other three, though. The ones to Jon and Gendry were, by far, the worst culprits, and the other's would barely make a dent after the earthquake that had already ripped through my world.

When my dad and brothers got home a few hours after me, I told them I was too sick to leave my room, and when I heard Arya's voice downstairs, I just about barricaded myself inside. Sending a message to 'The Fam' group chat to try and convince them all that I was dreadfully contagious.

No-one had bothered me since, except a few worried visits from my dad to ask if I was alright. I had sent him away every time with fake coughs and croaky assurances that I was far too 'tender' to see anybody.

I just...can't be around my family right now. There's no way.

I've felt like crying since the moment I left school, and there's always something about being in front of someone you feel intimately comfortable around. It makes my defences crash to the ground, and I can't do that...because then they would want to know. And in my grief I might just tell them. And that would be bad. Catastrophic. Code Black. Because then Arya would find out that I've been hardcore crushing on her man the entire time they've been together. And that...well that makes me wanna fire up my laptop and Google Search ways to fake your own death.

Just when I'm contemplating braving the storm and turning my phone back on to shoot my best friend, Jeyne, a quick reply to the text she sent me earlier when I didn't show up for afternoon lessons...a soft tap comes at the door. 'Sans?'

I freeze like a deer in headlights, my entire body going rigid.

Oh shit.

Arya.

Did Gendry talk to her? Is she here to murder me?

I sit up slowly, eyeing the door like it's a poisonous snake. 'Hmm?'

'Dad sent me up with some soup.'

Soup? Oh right. I'm sick.

'Uh...that's alright,' I say, trying to make my voice sound as husky as possible. 'I'm doing ok. I've got my water. I'm fine. Thanks though!'

I hear her sigh even through the door. 'Well, he told me not to come back down with it still on the tray, so...' I know, even though I can't see her, that she's shrugging. 'Maybe do me a solid?'

A slither of panic races through me. I'm not ready to see her, to face her. It doesn't sound like she knows anything yet, but the truth will be written on my face, I just know it.

'It's heavy, Sans,' she complains in an exaggerated whine. 'Come onnnnnnnn.' And then, in a voice tinted with playfulness: 'I also brought cookies.'

Cookies? My stomach growls at the thought. I skipped dinner under the pretence of being ill and not wanting to be around anybody, but I haven't actually eaten since lunch and I'm starting to get pretty hungry. Not enough to open the door for my dad's measly chicken-broth soup, but cookies? I remember seeing them on the counter when I came in earlier – probably a gift from our elderly neighbour, Mrs Tyrell - and just the thought of them has me salivating.

So somehow I find myself swallowing the saliva in my mouth and saying, 'Um...ok. Sure.'

She waits for a beat and then says, 'You locked the door, sis.'

Oh. Right.

I get up and unlock the door for her, opening it slowly as if I'll find a firing squad on the other side. But as soon as the door inches forwards even a little bit, Arya barrels inside, carelessly pushing it the rest of the way and practically shoving me aside as she passes.

That's Arya.

While I'm all quiet and timid and walking on eggshells to avoid attention of any kind, she blazes in like a bull in a China shop, saying and doing whatever she wants with no fear or hesitation.

It's how she got Gendry, after all. He was my friend before he was her anything, and my crush long before she even noticed him. But while I was too scared for too long and dragged my feet about admitting my feelings, Gendry was clearly growing more desirable by the day, because the second she recognised it she made it clear what she wanted...and the rest is history.

It's odd, sometimes.

She's the 'little sister' and yet she's the one who stands the tallest. Always protecting me, always looking out. Always the one to try something first because I'm too scared, always trailblazing the path for me to follow behind. Arya did everything before me: climbing trees, riding a bike, drinking...boys. She's the one with the long term, monogamous relationship, after all, and me? Well, I've never even had a boyfriend before. I'm an entire year older than her and yet I feel like I'm trailing behind her in so many ways.

All because I'm too scared, all the time...of everything.

If only I was more like her...things could have been so much different. Gendry could...well...Gendry could be my boyfriend right now. Not hers. Not that he is her boyfriend anymore. Not technically. But still. He's hers. He always will be.

She bounds over to the bed and sits with the plate of cookies in her hand, shoving one into her mouth at the same time. 'So, whats up with you?' She asks around a mouthful of chewy, chocolaty dough.

I fidget beside the door. 'Um...nothing. What do you mean?'

So far, so good. Keep it up, Sans. Just be vague. Give nothing away. You can do it.

Arya pauses, her cookie frozen in mid-air, and frowns at me...and I think I've fucked it. Shit! But then she says, 'You said you were sick.'

'Oh! Um...yeah. I am.' I cough and place a hand to my throat with a practiced whimper, but even I know it's a pathetic attempt.

I dare a peek at Arya, and find her watching me with a raised eyebrow. Clearly not buying it. 'Fine,' she finally says after a moment, with a dismissive wave of her hand. 'Don't tell me. It's not like I haven't faked a cough and cut out of school early before.'

'You have?'

'Sure,' she shrugs. 'I used to do it a lot when me and Gendry were dating.'

Gendry. The name is like a bucket of ice water to my face.

'Wh-why,' I ask, simply to make conversation more than anything. I clear my throat, even though the raspiness of it would actually aid my lie.

She looks down at the plate and picks up another cookie. 'Different stuff. Sometimes because we'd been arguing and I was upset and couldn't bear being around anyone. Other times it was just...' She grows quiet and her voice softens to nothing more than a whisper. 'Sometimes it was just so we could spend time together.'

And for the first time since this horrid day started, I actually think about somebody other than myself.

I've been so consumed with my own drama and worries concerning Gendry, anxious that my sister might find out and be angry, that I've completely forgotten the reasons why she could possibly feel that way...not just angry, but upset, heartbroken. Because she still loves him. It's clear as day to anybody with eyes, and she's obviously still struggling.

My chest caves with sympathy. 'Are you ok?'

When she looks up at me she's smiling ruefully, but when she shrugs as if it's not a big deal, I know for sure that it is. That's another thing about my sister. She masks her pain with a smile. and the bigger the smile, the bigger the pain. 'I'm fine.' Her expression changes almost instantly and she holds the plate up. 'You having one of these or not?'

My stomach rumbles again at the sight of the plate, and the mountain of mouthwatering treats on top of it, and I give in and move to sit beside her on the bed because...well, because she has the food.

I take one from the plate and we nibble away in silence for a few moments.

While I'm eating, it's easy to distract myself from my own woes and I decide to shift focus from me even further. 'Hey, Arya?' I hedge.

She doesn't look up. 'Hmm?'

I'm not sure I should ask. After all, if she wanted me to know she'd offer the information herself, right? But given my own recent induction into the Arya/Gendry drama, I figure the more information I have at my disposal, the better. Plus...curiosity is eating away at me. So I find myself asking, 'Why did you and Gendry break up?'

I don't expect her to answer, so I'm surprised when she shrugs softly without looking at me and says, 'We wanted different things.'

Huh.

That doesn't make sense to me. At all. Arya and Gendry were, for all intents and purposes, the 'perfect couple.' They were always together - one of those couples that were literally joined at the hip - and I rarely saw them fighting. They kissed a lot, held each other's hands almost constantly and were, just generally, an all around, adorable, gag-fest of cute. Which was what made it so much harder for me when they first got together as kids.

It wasn't like I wanted Arya to be unhappy. Or Gendry, for that matter. But there was always a small part of me that was expecting it all to be a phase that eventually fizzled out, and, if I'm being honest...I couldn't exactly hide the anticipation that came with that thought, at first.

When it didn't...when it went on and on and on, and soon replaced the impression of my parent's marriage as the foremost expression of committed monogamy in my life, that hope quickly faded. And resignation took it's place.

My crush on Gendry was still there. Always. I still admired him, I still wondered 'what if?', I still found myself looking at him longer than was necessary and thinking about him when I probably shouldn't have been either, but I honest to Gods never believed anything would ever happen between us. Not anymore. I had put that to bed. It became a bittersweet kind of longing; destined to never be fulfilled.

It was Arya and Gendry's commitment to one another which had spurred that resolve into existence, so my sister's words ring hollow. And I say as much.

'I...I don't get it. You were great together.'

Another shrug. 'Well sure, but...' She trails off and chews the inside of her cheek, thinking.

'Ok, so it's like this: recently, me and Gendry have been talking a lot about the future. What our dreams are, our plans, our goals. Things we want to do together, what we want our future to be...you know...'

'That's sweet,' I say. Most guys would balk at such thoughts of lifelong commitment, but not Gendry. He always was mature for his age.

'I know,' she sighs, like the thought of Gendry's clear devotion to her is a dagger in the heart. 'But it started to dawn on me that...the things we want and value, our plans...they're different. And I realised that, as much as we'd fight it and try our hardest at first...we'd probably end up being one of those couples who drift away and break up in college.'

I'm startled.

I always used to picture Arya and Gendry being together in my head whenever I would think of the future. It was just a foregone conclusion, a part of the furniture. So this is a shock to my system. It suddenly feels like somebody has reached into my head and jiggled everything about, moving that furniture and leaving the whole place overturned and unrecognisable.

'But...' I shake my head. 'You guys don't have to think about any of that right now. You won't be starting college for another few years yet. So why - '

'Because...' Arya replies with another weary sigh. 'I'll just keep falling more and more in love with him, Sansa, but it won't change the inevitable. Those things will still remain the same and they'll still break us, except...I'll be more attached and so will he and we'll find it a thousand times more difficult. It's hard now...but not as hard as it will be if I let this continue. I have to rip the band aid off. Nip it in the bud while it's still ahead.'

Her words sound jarringly clinical to my over-romanticised ears, but deep down I can acknowledge the wisdom in her decision. And then another thing occurs to me, curling deep and unpleasant inside my gut.

I already knew that Arya didn't dump Gendry out of a lack of love. They had been far too happy for that. But not I know, unequivocally, that far from being a lessening of feelings for him that precipitated their breakup, it was actually the strength of them that led to her heartbreaking decision. Meaning....she really will be gutted to learn of mine.

I have to bury this. I have to make it all go away. I just don't know how.

Gendry will never forget that letter. He'll want to talk. I'll be too embarrassed. Things will never be the same between us. Arya will notice us not being friendly anymore. And then she'll question me and I'll cave and Gendry will want to tell her the truth because he's Gendry and she's Arya and they're Gendry and Arya and I...wish the world would swallow me up right now.

And then I hear the three words which are guaranteed to have me dissolving into a puddle of panic. 'Gendry is here.'

Both mine and Arya's heads whip to the doorway, where one of our younger brother's, Bran, is standing. His head is wedged between the slightly open door and the frame, his dark eyes practically luminous against his pale skin.

'What?!' Me and Arya screech as we simultaneously jump to our feet.

I do a double take at my sister and recover quickly, realising I have no right to such an extreme reaction. 'I mean...uh...what is he doing here? They just broke up! She doesn't want to see him!' I look at Arya. 'Right?'

'Right!' She nods, though there's clear hesitation in her voice and I can't ignore the stark longing in her eyes. 'Only...' She turns to Bran. 'How did he look?'

Bran stares back at her blankly. 'Like Gendry?'

She tuts and places the plate of cookies on my bed before rushing towards him. 'No. I mean...did he look ok? Upset? Happy? Like he's moved on?' She gasps and places a hand on her heart, all the blood draining from her face. 'Oh Gods, what if he's here to tell me he's found someone else?'

'Not likely,' I assure her instantly, my gut clenching in dread. Not only am I certain that Gendry will not move on from Arya for a long time or be so callous as to show up at her door to boast about it, but I'm about one thousand percent certain that he's not here to see her at all. He's here for me.

Arya turns back to Bran and practically grabs him by the shirt. 'Does he look gaunt? Do you think he's been eating? Oh Gods, I hope he's taking care of himself.'

Bran disentangles himself from our sister with a huff of irritation. 'I don't bloody know, Arya. I l just opened the door, looked at him and he said, 'I need to talk to your sister.' That was literally the end of our interaction.'

'Well why didn't you ask how he was?!' She demands almost comically. She looks like a crazy person, her eyes wide and blazing.

'Because I'm not a weirdo who goes around asking guys what their emotions are?' Bran asks with a confused scowl on his face.

If I wasn't freaking out right now I would have laughed, but as it is...

I need to speak to your sister.

Your sister.

Oh Gods. He's here for me, I know it.

Bran didn't ask which one because he figured it was a foregone conclusion and as soon as Arya goes down there, Gendry will probably correct her and tell her he's here to see me. And why.

My eyes instantly begin to scan the room. I need to get out of here.

Yep. Once again, I'm running away. Poor Gendry, I start to think. But then quickly quash it. I can't afford to feel any sympathy for him right now. As far as my brain is aware, he's the enemy.

'Can I go back to my game now?' Bran asks sullenly. 'I've been AFK for ages.'

Arya just grumbles and pushes past him, with a shove that knocks him back a full step. He stares after her with a mutinous glare for a moment before looking back at me, a barely-there glint of confusion in his brown eyes. 'What's with you?'

I stop chewing my fingernails and cursing my room for an escape hatch long enough to glance at him. 'Hmm?'

He narrows his eyes for a second, but then just shrugs in disinterest and walks back to his room, clearly not curious enough to stay and figure me out. And thank the Gods for that, because right now I need to leave. I need to think and escape and I need to do it quick.

My eyes search the small space, desperate for a way I can get out of the house without being seen.

I'm just about to lose all hope when my gaze lights on the window, and I'm moving towards it before I can even think twice. Because I'm panicking and I need to think fast...and when I'm panicking I apparently think...wrong.

The blasted thing is open, one leg is out and I'm straddling the frame before I'm able to ponder the consequences.

We used to do this all the time when we were kids. When we were younger and stupid and not afraid of getting hurt.

One quick swing towards the left and I'm hooked around the wide drainpipe beside my window, and shimming down the house to the lawn below.

I haven't done this in years so my descent is pretty sloppy. My hands slip multiple times, making me yelp in terror, my thighs shake as they cling desperately to the pipe, and my knees scrape the uneven surface of the brick wall as I push myself quickly to the bottom.

But the old thing is as sturdy as always, and before I know it I'm launching to the ground at the back of the house, rushing across the grass towards the towering hedge at the bottom of the garden, and dropping to my knees to crawl hastily through the tiny opening I know from memory is there.

By the time I make it to the path at the back of our row of houses, I'm a sweaty, dirty, breathless mess.

But I'm free.

Straightening to full height I glance around, panting as I rub the dirt and grass from my knees. As soon as I see my little neighbour, Lyanna Mormont, playing with her tiny pink bike two houses down, my mind blazes with an idea.

I instantly rush over and smile as brightly as I can. 'Hey, Kid, wanna make a few coins?'

She stares up at me with wide eyes. Ok, so I probably look pretty threatening. Panting and sweaty with dirt on my jeans and my hair in disarray. But she knows me. I babysit for her all the time, and so I know it will wear off quick.

And it does.

Just as I predicted, she smiles up at me with a gap toothed grin, the interest sharp and clear in her light brown eyes. 'Money?'

I nod eagerly. '10 silver stags to borrow your bike for an hour.'

She looks at the bike – her obvious pride and joy - and then back at me, her face scrunched in thought, and what looks like a tinge of doubt. I'm about to tell her it doesn't matter when she finally nods with a mischievous smirk. '20. Gold dragons.'

Little brat!

I sigh, but give her a reluctant nod. Anything to get away from here. 'Ok. 20.'

She smiles in smug victory and pushes her bike over to me. I begin to mount the tiny thing as she strokes the sides of it proudly. 'My daddy just gave it a repaint, and put this new basket in the front for my doll. It's beautiful, isn't it?'

I eye the bike dubiously as I settle onto the bright fuchsia seat. It is beautiful. If you're 12. I don't particularly want to be riding around town on a tiny, pink, glittery bike with a white wicker basket and plastic flowers fixed to the front. But do I not want that more than I don't want to stay in the house and face Gendry? Absolutely-fucking-not.

Pick your poison, Sans.

I shoot Lyanna a thin smile. 'I'll put the money in your mailbox later.'

She bobs her little head in excitement, no doubt thinking about the further upgrades she can make to her bike with the money.

With anybody else she might have demanded it upfront, but she knows I'm good for it. I'm responsible, respectable and boring Sansa Stark. I don't have the boldness, confidence or guts to stiff anybody.

I nod back and make to peddle away, but she stops me with a startled cry. 'Wait! Don't you want my helmet?'

She tugs the white strap around her chin, a strap attached to the bright pink helmet sitting atop her head, and I visibly shudder. 'Uh. No. Let's leave that, ok?'

She merely shrugs, clearly not insulted by my slight or not even realising I made one at all, and watches me take off.

It's a bit of a hassle, getting used to the tiny thing beneath me, and I stutter and start a few times....but I'm on my way soon enough, pedaling as fast as I can away from my house and towards the only place I know I'll find refuge.

I ignore the blatant stares, whispers and giggles as I head to the edge of town. I don't care about them half as much as I care about being as far from my sister and Gendry as is physically possible.

I don't stop riding until I get to my destination, not even when my calf's begin to ache and my chest begins to burn with the ragged breaths tearing in and out of my lungs.

Only when the familiar white shutters and bright green flashing neon sign come into view, do I slow to a stop and hop off the bike, leaning it against the wall in front of my favourite diner, Dee’s.

It's a 'greasy spoon' type of place, right off the beaten track of the main high street. Me and my mum discovered it back before she was sick on one of our special Saturdays.

With a house full of boys and the tom boy Arya to contend with, Saturdays were the only time mum and I got to do something just for the two of us, something we were both interested in, since we were always going to football matches and action movies to keep everybody else happy the rest of the time.

We would spend the afternoon in town, looking through the vintage clothes stores and bookshops and then drinking coffees, eating cake and gossiping about silly things, like boys and trashy reality shows.

Arya was never into that kind of thing and she was always with Gendry on the weekends anyway, so Saturday was just our time. For us. For me.

It was the only time I felt important, seen. It wasn't my mum's fault. I knew. She had a house full of rowdy boys and a brash tomboy to hold her attention. And since I was pretty sensible, quiet and well-behaved I basically flew under the radar the majority of the time.

On Saturday's though..her attention was entirely mine. My opinion was valued, my jokes laughed at. It was my grades being talked about and praised, my interests and my hobbies.

I cherished those days.

I make my way inside, the bell chiming as I pass, and inhale...letting the smells and sounds of the bustling diner instantly put me at ease. This was the soundtrack to my happy childhood, and I let myself become immersed in it, like sinking into a warm bubble bath.

I move towards the counter and take a seat at one of the tall, red, leather-covered stools. Mum and I always used to sit in a booth by the window, but that's too painful now. Still, my eyes sweep over it briefly as I wait to be served. I can't help it.

I feel a painful clench inside my chest as I imagine mum sitting there in the familiar worn chair. Always on the side facing away from the door, always playing absently with the packets of sugar as she talked to me about anything and everything. Making me feel instantly better like honey on a sore throat.

'Hey, sweetie!' I turn back to the counter with a heavy heart, only to be met by the grey hair, faded blue eyes and friendly smile of the owner and namesake of the diner, Dee. 'I wasn't expecting to see you tonight.'

She's holding a pot full of steaming coffee and wearing the standard uniform - ugly yellow dress with frills and white apron covered in stains.

Dee was always the one who served me and my mum when we came in here, and she rapidly became one of my favourite people. We were here so often she started to give us free pie, cake and shakes, and even invented a milkshake for me she lovingly dubbed The Sansa – to be made for me only, on her strict orders.

She grew to be very important to me over the years, and to mum, and even came to her funeral. Now she's like an Aunt to me, and honestly one of the best people I know.

She, and this place, has been a lifeline for me the past few years.

After mum died, it became too painful to be here so often. There was a time when I couldn't come at all, couldn't even drive or walk past without getting choked up. It reminded me too much of mum and what I'd lost. But after a while, the pain eased...and I began to seek out my memories of her instead of hiding from them. I wanted to soak up everything about her that I still could. Her old perfumes, her scarves and shirts with her scent still clinging to the fabric, her favourite novels – worn and falling apart, with the bookmark still where she had left it.

And I wanted to be here. In this place that had made her so happy and where we had shared so much. Even though the first time I stepped back through the door I had burst into tears, unable to stop even when Dee wrapped her arms around me, and even though I could only stay for minutes at a time, I still liked to come here and remember her. Remember us. Even if it was only every now and then.

Over time, I was able to visit more often. And, honestly, I began to miss Dee so much that I fought through the pain whenever it resurfaced.

And now, even though I don't come every Saturday anymore, I still visit when I'm upset or just need to be cheered up. It's still my haven. Still my safe place. Even if mum isn't here with me.

It still makes me feel the way she once did. It holds the memory of her in it's walls and smell, it's feel. In every clink of silverware and blast of the jukebox. She left her mark and imprint everywhere. And all the things we used to talk about, the way she used to make me feel when we were here....they still linger, like echoes.

I shrug and smile back at Dee, feeling lighter all of a sudden. 'Needed to get out of the house.'

Dee nods in understanding. She knows all about my family full of brothers, and probably assumes me fleeing here is something to do with them, a search for some much needed peace and quiet.

I choose not to correct her. What would I say anyway? She also knows about Arya and Gendry and the fact that they're together. It's not like I can confide in even her.

Nope. I'm on my own for this one. The thought makes me feel sad and lonely and completely helpless, and I miss my mum in this moment more than ever before.

I would be able to tell her everything. She would never have judged me. She loved me. She would have comforted me and figured out everything. A way to handle it all without upsetting Arya, who she would never want to hurt.

My shoulders slump as I sit there and think of the hole she's left in my life.

I miss her.

Dee notices the change in me instantly, and whether she knows I'm thinking about mum or not, she decides to take action. 'You look like you need to inject your bloodstream with an inordinate amount of sugar,' she diagnoses with a cheeky grin. 'The usual?'

I laugh and nod. 'Always.' The usual is my personal milkshake and just the sight of it can lessen all my woes every single time.

She winks at me and moves away to make my drink, and while I'm waiting I decide to use the time to do some much needed damage control.

Grabbing my phone out of my pocket, I turn it on only long enough to type my dad a quick text about feeling better suddenly and deciding to study with some friends at the library. He'll believe it. It's me, after all. I'm far too dull to be out doing anything irresponsible or dangerous.

I wince when I see the messages from other people flooding my inbox: Arya, Jeyne (again – my dad probably called her after I disappeared), Gendry! Oh Gods. I make my eyes skip across his texts. I don't want to see what they say, won't allow the stress to infiltrate the fragile harmony I'm clinging onto so desperately.

After the message to dad is 'delivered', I power the phone down again and place it on the counter in front of me, waiting a beat before reaching out and pushing it even further away so that it's right over by the sugar shakers.

I then nod in satisfaction, breathe a sigh of relief and straighten up in my seat...only to be distracted by a soft chuckle from beside me.

I glance to my left and my entire body immediately freezes.

Jon Snow is sitting two seats down from me, lounging on a stool with his ridiculously attractive forearms resting on the counter and looking over at me with amusement in his eyes and a smirk on his lips.

I jerk back and audibly gasp.

This pulls another grin from his stupid, delicious mouth, and he raises a hand to rake through his hair. 'Hey, Stark.'

'I...what...you...' I begin to sputter, and he uses my sudden in-eloquence as an opportunity to call towards Dee.

'Hey, could I get a coffee, please? Black. No sugar.'

Ugh. Even the way he takes his coffee is badass. I need everything sweetened to tooth aching levels like a wimp.

Bastard.

He turns back to me with a patient set of grey eyes. 'You about decided what word you wanna use yet?'

Oh! Fury rushes through me. Fast and hot and brutal. I don't need this today. My nervousness quickly turns to irritation and impatience.

'What are you doing here?' I snap.

This is my haven, dammit! My safe place. I came here to escape all of today's crap. And here, like a vision from hell, my second worst decision of the day is sitting in front of me.

He reaches forwards to play with a tube full of multicoloured straws, not even looking at me and replying as casually as the day is long, 'I followed you.'

What?

'You...' I shake my head and close my eyes for a second. What the hell is going on? 'What do you mean, you followed me?'

He looks back at me like I have three heads, like I'm the crazy one. 'I mean I saw you coming here and trailed you in my car. Cute bike, by the way,' he adds, with a mocking smirk.

'Shut up,' I say, turning fully towards him now, far too confused and exasperated to even stop and marvel at my sudden boldness around him. 'How did you see me? Where?'

Jon drops the straws and sighs – sighs! Like I'm the one irritating him! - and turns towards me, mimicking my position.

It's so strange seeing him out of school. Like running into a teacher at the grocery store. We've never hung out, not as teenagers, anyway. The last time we were really in any kind of social situation together was when we were twelve and he was planting one on me. Since then Jon Snow has existed only in the side of my life and brain reserved for school and formal, educational settings. But this is my Saturday haven. This is about as far from school as you can get. This is...no. He's bleeding into the wrong part of my world. He doesn't belong here.

'I went to your house -'

'You went to my house?!'

'And I saw you jetting away from there like your ass was on fire,' he continues sternly, when I interrupt him. Then he shrugs. 'I decided to follow you and you came here. So...here I am.'

He grins, a cute, crooked smile, and I have to admit, my stomach dips. I have no idea what that's about exactly, but when Jon Snow smiles at you like that you'd be hard pressed to not feel something. That's what I tell my treacherous asshole heart when it flips anyway.

'Cute place, by the way,' Jon acknowledges, as he twists back towards the counter on his stool.

'Thanks, handsome,' Dee gushes, as she sets a coffee mug in front of him with a charmed smile.

Her light blue eyes are twinkling. Twinkling! Oh no. Please don't tell me he's working his magic on her. I know she doesn't get a lot of custom and definitely not from cute, young guys like him, but still...

She's holding my milkshake captive in her other hand, but doesn't make a move to put it in front of me. Nope. She's still staring at Jon, and when he glances back up at her and winks, I contemplate the possibility for a second that she might seriously have a cardiac arrest right there on the black and white tiled floor of the diner.

'Thanks...um...' His eyes dip to her name tag. 'Dee.'

She melts inside. I physically see it happen. And she's still staring at him, still smiling. And my milkshake is still in her hand.

'Ahem!' I cough, and she finally glances away.

'Oh! Sorry, honey,' she says, flustered and reddening in the cheeks.

Oh my god. I can't believe Dee is hot for Jon Snow! Can he not go anywhere without infecting every woman nearby with his disgusting disease? I was clearly just one of many when we were twelve.

Once again I feel that sour trickle of bitterness and embarrassment at the foolishness I exhibited, back when I seriously believed I was something special for a hot minute.

Dee puts the milkshake in front of me with an apologetic smile.

'Thanks,' I say, trying to soften my voice for her because...well, she's Dee and I love her. And I understand getting momentarily blinded by the magnetic allure of Jon 'bastard' Snow.

Speaking of which, I glare at him sideways as I take a sip of my shake. I hate that he's here. I'm supposed to come here and have my milkshake and instantly feel better. And now I'm stressed and it's all his fault.

He's drinking his coffee when I look at him and I try to ignore the way his biceps flex when he lifts it to his mouth, and the way his thick neck looks as he tips his head back and swallows the warm liquid. I feel my body heating but dismiss it. It's just a natural reaction to an attractive boy. Nothing more. And I have more important things to focus on.

Jon glances over at me and does a double take. He turns his body towards me again and his eyes widen in wonder.

'What is that?' He asks, and the awe in his voice almost makes me laugh.

'This is my milkshake.'

'Looks good. Maybe I'll get one.'

'No can do, sugar,' Dee says, as she potters about behind the bright red counter. 'The Sansa' has a very limited and exclusive clientele.'

He gapes at her, and then at me and my milkshake...and back to me again. 'You have your own milkshake? Seriously?'

I simply nod and take another exaggerated sip like an asshole just to flaunt it. 'Uh huh,' I mumble around the straw.

'And they're not allowed to sell it to anybody else?'

I swallow the strawberry flavoured milk in my mouth. 'On pain of death.'

He shakes his head in disbelief and, if I'm not mistaken, respect. 'That's crazy.'

I just shrug and turn back to my drink, swirling the straw around the multicoloured milk, ice cream mingling with the chocolate sauce as it all melts into the liquid. He's still staring at me – no, at my drink – and sighs so wistfully it makes my lips twitch. 'It really does look good.'

But then I sigh. This is getting us nowhere.

'Why did you go to my house, Jon? And how do you even know where it is?'

He's never been there and there's absolutely no reason for him to know where I live.

He narrows his eyes at me in confusion again, like he doesn't understand why I'm continuing to be so stupid. 'Dany used to go to yours all the time. I'd pick her up from your house or meet her at the end of your road before our dates.'

I can't help the scoff that escapes me. 'Dates? We were 12. What did you do? Play Mario Kart and feed the ducks?'

'Ha ha,' he mutters., taking another sip of coffee.

I stare at him. 'Jon.'

'Hmm?'

'You didn't answer my question.'

He swallows and nods. 'Right. Well, I just wanted to talk...about earlier,' he says vaguely, and so casually I really do marvel at him. Does anything bother him? At all?

Of course I know what he's talking about. But I play dumb.

'I...don't know what you mean.' I turn back to my milkshake, but can instantly feel his eyes on me. Practically feel the swift turn of his head in the air.

A moment of silence follows, and then an incredulous, 'Really?'

I continue to stare into my drink, my hand on the straw, just swirling. Swirling, swirling, swirling, swirl-

'Stark,' he says, the amusement in his voice grating at me. 'Come on,' he coaxes, like I'm a naughty child and he's trying to get me to admit to committing an act of disobedience.

I continue to avert my eyes, but I hear him sigh melodramatically and shift on his seat.

'Ok, let me refresh your memory.'

'Nope,' I say, squeezing my eyes shut and shaking my head, as if I can simply drown him out. And make him disappear through sheer will. But the bastard ignores me...like a bastard. Bastard.

'The last time I saw you, you were jumping into my arms and kissing the hell out of me. Then about 10 seconds later you pulled away like you'd electrocuted yourself on my mouth, said 'sorry' and legged it down the hallway, so...'

He trails off, clearly waiting for me to add my two cents, but I honestly have no interest on tugging on that thread. Not only because it was embarrassing as hell, but because the reason I ran away without saying anything other than 'sorry' after our kiss – which wasn't my original intention - was because he had started to kiss me back and it scared the hell out of me.

Also...I actually enjoyed it and that confuses me because I do not like Jon Snow like that and...honestly? This is all too much. I'm getting a headache.

When it becomes obvious that I'm not going to play ball, Jon sighs. 'Look, Stark....you're funny and cute, in a...weird, quirky way...'

Wow, just what every girl wants to hear.

'But, like I said, Dany and I just broke up, and things are weird with us anyway. I don't know if we're gonna be getting back together or if I even want to but I just -'

Ok. No.

'Can you just shut up for like one second?' I snap.

He rears back with wide eyes, but a slow smirk begins to lift his lips. I hate those lips. But he sure knows how to use them.

Ugh! Stop it!

I squeeze my eyes shut again and breathe deeply, before turning to face him and straightening in my chair. I need this silliness to end now, I already have one mess to deal with.

'I don't need another brush-off, ok? I told you earlier...I don't like you that way. I'm not trying to date you.'

His eyes narrow with a frown and he waits for a beat before asking the question I know is coming. 'Then why did you kiss me?'

Why did you kiss me back? I want to ask. But that's not important right now.

I sigh in exasperation and a little groan slips free from my lips. 'I kissed you because I don't like you, alright?'

He just stares at me, so I groan again, in mortification this time, and bury my face in my hands for about 20 seconds. When I resurface he's watching me curiously, still and silent. Just waiting.

'Ok, here's the thing,' I say, the words rushing out. 'I don't actually like you. I just had to pretend that I liked you so that somebody else didn't think I liked them. They were in the hallway earlier, you see, and I just had to act fast. I didn't think, I just...' I shrug. 'It was the first thing I thought of to do. Sorry....for what it's worth.'

Boy am I sorry.

He takes all of this information in with unnerving calm, his eyes sweeping over me, their gaze unreadable. I fidget under his perusal.

Finally, he nods, a slow assent. 'Ok.'

Although I'm surprised that he seems to buy it so quickly, I breathe a sigh of relief and nod with a soft smile, ready to turn back to my milkshake...until I hear his voice again:

'Who?

My blood runs cold. 'What?'

'Who do you like?'

I laugh nervously. 'Uh, yeah...no. I'm not telling you that.'

'Why?'

I give him a look. 'Because nobody knows. Why would I tell you, of all people?'

He rears back in mock insult. ''Of all people?' Damn, Stark. You wound me.'

I just roll my eyes. 'Look, I explained, ok? I'm sorry I dragged you into this. Can we just leave it?'

He looks at me for a long time, as if contemplating. Then, finally, he nods. 'Yeah ok. I get it.' Shrugging, he picks up his coffee mug. 'I figured it was something...like that. That's why I helped you.'

He takes a long sip and I watch him. Naturally. He makes it look positively carnal. 'Helped me,' I repeat slowly as he swallows, the action working the muscles of his throat.

He glances over at me, nonplussed. 'Yeah. That's why I kissed you back.'

My face heats. Just hearing him talk about kissing me feels weirdly intimate.

I don't know what to say to that, but luckily, as always, he fills the silence. 'I figured if a girl jumps on you without warning in the middle of the hallway at school, it's usually for a good reason. So I just...went with it.' Another shrug.

I swallow against my suddenly dry mouth. 'Right. Well...thanks...for the help. I guess.'

This is weird. I'm thanking Jon Snow for kissing me. I'm talking to Jon Snow about him kissing me. And all because my secret love letter to him got leaked by some unknown assailant.

What the hell even is my life?

He nods and carries on just sipping away, nonchalant, as if this is of no consequence. As if girls throw themselves on him for no reason all the time and – ok, well. They probably do.

'So anyway,' I say, abandoning my half-drunk milkshake and standing, suddenly needing some fresh air. 'I really appreciate your help. But now that you know I'm not interested in you and now that I've said thank you...I can take it from here.' I try for a smile, but I can feel the tightness of it and can only imagine how it looks. 'Thanks. Again.'

He looks me over once more, a maddening glint in his eye that, Gods help me, I can't seem to fathom. And I just stand there, waiting for him to speak like I'm completely at his mercy. Just like every bloody girl at our school, I think with an inward scowl.

When he finally opens his mouth, he doesn't say what I think he will.

He nods over my head towards the window behind me. 'Is that really your bike outside?'

I flush. 'No. It's my neighbour's.'

His lips twitch. 'How old is she?'

'12,' I reply, as I fidget sheepishly.

Another amused twitch of his lips. 'Why do you have it?'

Gods, what is this, Twenty Questions?

'I paid her to use it, ok? Can I go now?'

'Why would you do that?'

I inwardly groan, but then take a deep breath and fix him with a level look. He was right before. He did help me. I shouldn't be rude.

'I needed to leave my house quickly and it was my only means of escape.' I stare at him, hard. 'Satisfied?'

He just continues to stare at me in that infuriating way of his. I have no idea what he's thinking, but he looks like he's trying to figure something out.

'He was there, wasn't he?' He asks a moment later, his voice sharpened by a knowing edge.

'Who?'

'The guy you have a crush on.'

My stomach drops as he continues. 'He was at your house and you ran away from him.'

My cheeks flame, but instead of denying it I just shrug and look at my feet.

Jon is quiet. And then, in an inquisitive, almost tender voice, 'You must really not have wanted to see him, huh?'

I close my eyes. 'No. Can I go now?'

When I open them a moment later he has a different kind of glint in his, like he's suddenly determined and resolved. I can't make heads nor tails of it, but I don't feel like staying around any longer to figure it out.

'Can I go now, Jon?' I practically whisper.

And maybe it's the look in my eyes or the sound of my voice, but everything about him softens. 'Of course.'

I nod and grab my phone, hastily leaving the diner with nothing more than a wave at a startled Dee. I can't blame her, I didn't even finish my shake. I ALWAYS finish my shake.

I cycle home quickly, fleeing my sanctuary for the very place I was running from before.

I'm so eager to just get away that I don't give much thought to what Jon said before I left, not until I'm lying in bed later that night, being woken from sleep by my phone chiming with several messages.

Too tired and disoriented to remember that I'm supposed to be avoiding my inbox, I swipe the lock screen and go into the text chain with my BFF, Jeyne, which is littered with message upon message. ALL CAPS. Some just consisting of emoji's, which I'm sure are supposed to spell out messages I can't currently decipher with my sleep added brain. Not that I can even when I'm awake, if I'm being honest. Jeyne is an emoji fiend and would write her school assignments with them if she could get away with it.

I squint as I scroll back to the top of the text block and read.

Jeyne: OH MY GOD, GIRL! YOU BETTER START TALKING NOW! Jeyne: JON SNOW!? Jeyne: ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! Jeyne: WHAT THE HELL?! WHY DID YOU NOT TELL ME?! I THOUGHT WE WERE BFF'S! YOU BITCH.

- followed by a winky face to tell me she's (mostly) joking.

Jeyne: SPILL. NOW!

- comes the latest message, and I sigh before cricking my neck and tiredly typing back.

Me: It's nothing. I'll explain tomorrow.

She probably just heard about the kiss in the hallway. I'll invent some story for her when I'm more awake. I won't tell her about Gendry, though. I never have. Never told anyone, not even my closest friend. Mostly because...well, I love the girl, but Jeyne is a blabbermouth. Not maliciously. It's a defect. She talks. A lot. To anyone and everything. She'd have a conversation with an inanimate object if she could. And she can't stop herself. It's not like I expect her to go marching up to Arya and Gendry and reveal all of my secrets. No, it would probably just come out accidentally via an ill-timed comment or something. Like word vomit.

No, I won't tell her the real reason I kissed Jon. But I'll make something up. I'll sort it out. Just not now. I'm so tired. So tired and I need -

Jeyne: NOTHING? Jeyne: THAT'S NOT WHAT HE SAID!

I narrow my eyes in confusion. He said? What?

Me: Who?

It takes her all of a second to type back.

Jeyne: JON!

What?

My stomach dips.

She talked to Jon? Oh gods. What did he say? Why did he say anything? Why is he talking about us and our kiss? Oh shit, I think as my blood freezes. Dd he tell Jeyne I liked someone? She won't know it's Gendry, of course, but she'll pester me incessantly about the identity of the culprit and, knowing me, I'll cave under the pressure like a tower of cards.

I hurriedly type a reply.

Me: What do you mean? What did he say? When?!

It takes her longer to answer this time and I know it's because she's sending a longer message...which instantly sets my nerves on edge.

In hindsight, the way it happens is a strange sort of serendipity. A slow-motion train wreck. For something to go this colossally wrong, everything must intersect and collide at the exact right, or in this case, wrong, moment.

If Gendry had not appeared at my house when he did, then I may not have chosen then to escape, and would have perhaps missed little Lyanna Mormont standing there in the street with her bike. Had I not sought my freedom on the ridiculous contraption at the very same second Jon happened to be driving up to my house, he may not have followed me to Dee's and cornered me into opening up to him about my crush. And, most importantly, he may not have experienced the lapse of sanity that inspired him into doing what he did when he ran into my best friend later that night.

When her text finally comes through, I skim it with trepidation.

Jeyne: Me and mum went to the Chinese takeout place on Addison this evening and Jon was there. So of course I said 'hi' because duh! It's Jon! He's soooo dreamy! And I thought he might not really recognise me or know me at first but then he did a double take and said 'hi' back. And THEN he said, 'You're Stark's friend, right?'

My belly sinks again and I continue reading.

Jeyne: So of course I was surprised that he mentioned you. I mean, I know you guys used to hang out sometimes when you and Dany were friends but it's not like you really have had anything to do with each other since then, right? So I said, 'That's right, you know her?' And he smiled and went, 'Yeah, I know her...'

Dot dot dot.

What the hell?! She rambles incessantly and ends before the best part with a dot dot dot??? Damn her. Always so bloody dramatic. I know she's only doing it to mess with me.

What?! What did he say?! I type, my fingers practically punching the screen.

The three little dots pop up, I hold my breath and then her words appear...and my mouth falls open.

'He said, 'Yeah I know her...I'm her boyfriend.''

#jonsa #actuallyjonsa #jonsaff #jon x sansa #jonsa fic #jonsa fanfic #jonsa fanfiction #jon x sansa fic #jon x sansa fanfic #jon x sansa fanfiction #*m #my fics #tatbilbmcficmine

65 notes · View notes

janiedean · 6 years

Note

But why do you hate Cersei that much? Is it because you are hardcore JamiexBrienne shipper? (Classic)

… this question was fairly fine until the classic, which denotes a certain passive-aggressiveness typical of the usual cersei stan so excuse me if instead of getting a nice answer I might have toned down a bit you’re getting all the ugly truth - next time consider not implying that I’d hate a character just because it’s in the way of my ship, thank you, since I tend to actually multiship and I don’t hate jeynew for being technically an obstacle to my main ship and so on. but okay. you wanna know? let’s go in order,

spoilers: this is gonna be ugly, I am not going to hold back any venom and so if you like cersei you’re welcome to not read this. I warned you.

one: classic. my dear anon, I’ll tell you a secret: 80% of the jb fandom actually likes cerse. I’m in the minority. most people I know who ship jb either also ship jc or like cersei as a villain/as the horrid person she is because they enjoy a well-written villain. i don’t, but most *hardcore jb shippers* actually LIKE cersei. if then you take ‘she’s horrible but I love her character’ as people hating her then it’s your goddamned problem.

two: I actually loathed her abusive, controlling, manipulative and murdering ass way before brienne even showed up in the book let alone reading asos.

NO, REALLY.

three: I find cersei a technically very well-built and written character. no, really.

four: too bad that if there’s one thing I hate in fiction is incompetent villains, and if there’s three kinds of people I hate irl it’s a) people who think they’re so much better than the others, b) people who use person X who loves them as an emotional punching bag/their own servant without realizing what’s wrong with it, c) people who don’t accept responsibilities of their actions. rings a bell?

ah, right.

five: I find cersei’s povs utterly, terribly and fucking boring. okay, she’s insane, okay, she’s completely out of this world, okay, she’s great in her being completely insane and wanting to rule, okay, she’s a great villain, I found it amusing for one chapter and then I fell asleep. I can’t care less to be in the head of a narcissist asshole who thinks the world is an extension of herself and digs her own grave while blaming everyone else for her shortcomings and not even getting it when she’s directly confronted with it.

six: cersei is a fucking disgusting human being. and before y’all go like BUT ROBERT, I’m just gonna say that I am in no way, shape or form required to be interested in someone who threw a 12 year old into a well because said person dared say she had a crush on her brother when she also was twelve herself. like. okay, maybe for some people she’s interesting, to me that’s child psychiatrist material.

seven: I have also absolutely no fucking interest in an abusive fuck who spent her entire life actively or not actively trying to prevent jaime from actually having an identity separated from hers or who sexually molested her other brother while he was in the crib and justifies it with WELL HE’S A MONSTER. no, fuck you.

eight: an abusive fuck who also thinks she’s her father and couldn’t do politics if they hit her in the face. I mean, I actually like roose as a character and I don’t hate him even if he actively put a knife inside my actual favorite character’s heart because a) he’s not an incompetent fuck, b) he knows when you should not do horrid stuff because it’s not politically convenient, c) just wanted to rule his damned land and isn’t going out of his way to mess shit up jUST BECAUSE HE HAS THE POWER. cersei is just that, all along, and I can’t give a fuck about it.

nine: I have absolutely zero sympathy for 99% of her plights - at most I can give her that marrying robert was miserable, but OMG I AM A WOMAN IT PREVENTS ME FROM BEING MY FATHER SO NOW I WILL HAVE TO BE HORRID TO EVERYONE ELSE WHILE EXCUSING MYSELF ALL ALONG is not my cup of tea.

ten: OMG SHE’S A WONDERFUL MOTHER!!!! yeah a wonderful mother who sends tommen to whip someone when he’s not tough enough, totally great. and fandom even buys that. blergh.

eleven: I can’t stand her treatment of jaime and tyrion but jaime especially and I find it absolutely revolting and excuse me but I might find it such especially since if you look at it she basically dragged him into doing sexual stuff when they were younger than eight and from then on she did everything to make sure he wouldn’t have a life apart from her when she was ready to drop him if rhaegar accepted to marry her? like, why the fuck am I obliged to like this kind of person if it’s not my kind of character? ah, and it’s not about the incest because if that was the problem I wouldn’t be here shipping thor and loki and the other three sibling incests I occasionally shipped throughout my life, I just hated it since book one. am I allowed?

twelve: I’m gonna tell you a secret now (not so much but whatever). I read books 1-5 in a month marathoning and I didn’t exactly have time to form opinions until after I was done, and I started shipping jb during asos but I mean it sailed at the end and I was mild shipping, not hardcore. you know when was the moment where I thought, re cersei, omg fuck you I hope you die in a fire we’re Done I’m never giving you second chances I don’t care you can choke didn’t even have anything to do with jaime, it was when they were discussing the red wedding post-thing and someone said that catelyn went insane when she watched robb die in front of him and she started laughing about it. and excuse me anyone who finds the red wedding funny ESPECIALLY someone who professes that they’re a wonderful mother who loves her children is completely banned from my list of people who deserve me giving them a second chance to get back in my ‘I like you’ list. okay? my favorite character is robb, cat is in my top ten and I actually love cat to bits even if I don’t agree with her on half of what she says/we are fundamentally different in a lot of fundamental aspects, except that cat’s not an asshole and I can like her because she has things I like about her other than being very well-written, cersei’s just well-written but for the rest she’s the sum of everything I hate in a) fictional villains, b) people irl.

thirteen: also, the fandom tends to justify basically everything this asshole does with the excuse that she’s a woman so SHE’S AN EMPOWERED PROTO-FEMINIST when no she’s fucking not and cersei stans regularly show up bashing on my jb shipping that I try to keep actively away from them for example not tagging anything I say about cersei because I know they don’t wanna read it, while the brienne tag is riddled with crap like OMG YOU SAY SHE HAS TO BE CISHET JUST BECAUSE YOU SHIP HER WITH JAIME BOOO, or gems like ‘omg jb fans are all ugly women who want to bang jaime and project on brienne how pathetic muahahaha cersei had it so much worse’ plus coming on anon at regular intervals to send shit to people in the jb tag (I even have a tagged/jb-wank tag for it, TRY IT), so her fans definitely made sure that I went to general dislike to full-on hatred and that’s not even counting d&d trying to make cersei more sympathetic. blergh. as if there’s the need.

fourteen: I also don’t need to like someone who has no problem condemning people to death, ordering TWENTY children dead without losing a moment of sleep on it (I mean theon did the same with two and has nightmares about it, jon swapped two didn’t even kill them and he has nightmares about it, this asshole hasn’t even thought about it once), ordering people tortured or unethically experimented on and ordering rape on other women (in the show at least) all along while thinking she’s the best thing that ever happened to this planet. I have a few limits and people who only think about themselves and see other people in terms of HOW USEFUL THEY ARE TO ME are one of them, thanks.

fifteen: and for that matter, my favorite fictional villain ever is randall flagg ie a dude who killed an entire planet once or almost and who’s an unrepentant asshole and unapologetically evil, except that he actually doesn’t think he’s this great person because of it. he’s just evil incarnated, but what the hell. I like competent villains who don’t try to tell themselves they aren’t villains and who don’t frame their actions as anything but horrid shit. I’m fine if they enjoy it and I’m fine if they have a skewed set of morals according to which they see it as perfectly acceptable, but cersei doesn’t have a skewed set of morals, cersei’s just fucking out of it and has the worst narcissistic disorder in recent literary history. and she’s an incompetent fuck who thinks she’s better than everyone else who abuses everyfuckingone she runs into, and I just said jaime and tyrion but if I got into sansa, lancel, tommen, myrcella and just about everyone she interacts with I’d end up the day after tomorrow.

sixteen: my dislike was thoroughly cemented by how much I didn’t enjoy her pov chapters in affc/adwd but that was way before I hardcore shipped jb because at that point the only things I HARDCORE shipped were jon/sam and sandor/sansa, I wasn’t even shipping t/rhobb at that point. and my hardcore j/b shipping happened by the end of affc/by the time I was finished, and even then it took me one year to actually get into that side of fandom for real. so, no, actually the fact that I ship j/b has absolutely nothing to do with my dislike of cersei ie a character I disliked in got, hated in acok, was disgusted by all of the damned time in asos and throroughly detested in affc for reasons that guess what had everything to do with her and nothing to do with me shipping jaime with someone else.

because really, as long as he got away from that abusive fuck that’s his sister, he could have done it with arthur dayne, catelyn, the blackfish, fucking jon connington, oberyn or tv!bronn for what I care. I absolutely hate her also because I want jaime far away from her, but as long as he is, the fact that brienne is there and she’s his canon love interest (deal - with - it) is just a good convenient thing. otherwise I still would want him a planet away from that asshole that’s his sister. clear? shipping jb has nothing to do with that. fuck’s sake, the two most popular jon ships are jon/sansa and jon/dany and I ship him with EVERYONE BUT THOSE TWO and robb, and guess what I don’t hate sansa or robb (they’re both in my top ten/fifteen) and I don’t care about dany either way. I’m not so fucking not objective that I loathe a character so much just because they’re canonically in the middle of my ship, I’d be an immature or it’d be an immature reason and I’m enough of an adult to actually admit it. she happens to be in the middle of my ship more or less, but believe me I don’t hate elia or lyanna for being in the middle of r/jonc, sure as fuck I don’t hate cersei because she’s in the middle of jb.

I hate cersei because all of us has limits when it comes to irl and fictional characters and she’s wildly beyond all of mine and guess what, that was clear since the moment I read book one, after which jaime was my second-fave overall and she was at the damned bottom of the list. ah, except that if you dare liking jaime but not her you’re suddenly a Bad Feminist because liking the man out of the two of them but not her means you’re somehow having internalized misogyny. when instead it could be that jaime’s actually not an asshole and she is, but since, oh, wait, this fandom villanizes jaime a lot because in order to justify the crap cersei does they have to go along with that fucking THEY’RE THE SAME PERSON spiel which the narrative had denied from page five of the first tyrion pov chapter or so, I also have to get told that if I like the lannister guys (who are grey and fucked up but not inherently bad people and ah wait, both abuse victims since the damned cradle while she’s not) but not her I’m a Bad Feminist TM and excuse me but that attitude should have died years ago and it also helped making sure I would never budge when it came to c.

seventeen: the fact that the more time passes the less I can’t stand her means I can’t stand her in the show either. wow, too bad. I also couldn’t stand the th/ramsay scenes and watched them muted. but did I go ask t/hramsay ppl how they found them watchable? no. because I mind my own fucking business. and I wasn’t gonna even say it until people basically had to tear it out of me keeping on telling me I should like cersei/lena’s portrayal better than kit/jon because she’s a better actress than he is. most likely, but I don’t wanna punch jon in the face. and I wanna punch cersei in the face. for all the above reasons.

that have nothing to do with jb and all to do with the fact that cersei is an abusive/manipulative/incompetent fuck. okay?

there. that’s why I hate cersei. satisfied?

ps: and that’s why I don’t talk about cersei outside of jb meta, because I know that 50% of this is most probably my flawed subjective opinion and that she irks me also because of personal reasons that don’t have to be rational (there’s a reason why I hate incompetent idiots irl and why I hate people who think your life revolves around theirs irl btw) and that people will like her for a lot of the reasons why I dislike her. it’s fair. and that’s why I usually don’t share.

but if you really had to ask, that’s your damned answer.

classic, my ass. 80% of jb fans around actually don’t agree with me on 80% of what I wrote. some of us just don’t fucking like cersei. deal. with. it.

thanks for coming to my fucking ted talk.

#1 #2 #3 #4 #5 #anti-cersei lannister #anti-cersei #swearing cw #i guess i cussed a lot in this one #va bene va bene va bene in verità #abuse cw #rape cw #torture cw #child murder cw #WOW WHAT AN UPSTANDING CITIZEN #Anonymous #ask post #long post for ts

52 notes · View notes

cookiecutterwrites · 6 years

Text

Dog Days and Then Some

Summary: A boy and his slightly unsettling Rottweiler do everything together.

Genre: Contemporary YA

Notes: I’ll be posting some of my short pieces over the next few days, just so they’re anywhere at all. Luckily for you, much of my stuff is short and easy to read! Much like me irl no wait - My style varies wildly so if you don’t like this particular story, please do give my other pieces a chance! Feedback is always welcome. No seriously, I need feedback and writing friends real bad.

Dog Days and Then Some

Do you ever wake up with a question running through your mind? Today, mine is, ‘Hey, what's that awful, bone-crushing weight?’

And what do you know, it’s a shaggy, nightmarish, black beast that's sat on my chest! It growls and breathes in my face, rancid and hot.

I could panic, but I've done this song and dance before.

… Who am I kidding?

I’ve got plenty more questions where that came from.

What is that thing? Is it gonna tear me to pieces? Why can’t I move? Will I live to see high school?

So many questions, so few answers.

I want to thrash and scream, but I can’t.

This lasts for a good couple of eons, but the second I feel my limbs again, I prop myself up and wrestle the Rottweiler off my chest. I glare at him and groan. “Escher, you gotta stop scaring me like that.”

He barks once. He seems satisfied with his work. He makes one smug pooch.

Escher has this wonderful habit of showing up unannounced. Sometimes I seriously doubt he ever really leaves to begin with. Whenever he reared his ugly mutt mug, I armed myself with all sorts of self-assuring nonsense: ‘Escher’s not gonna be around for that long this time,’ and ‘Uncle Grady has a black dog, grandma had one too. I’ll be fine!’

But I could never shake the feeling that he was seconds away from pouncing on me, sinking his grubby paws into my neck, and rasping, — just a shadow of a whisper —, “Do you hear that in the distance? It’s your comeuppance.”

Weird, huh?

But I shouldn't get ahead of myself. Dogs can't talk.

Oh, what's that, boy? You wanna go out, Escher? Yeah, like I'm gonna let that happen.

I lock up the front door. Let's see him try — He’s taking the doggy flap.

Right.

See what I have to deal with? He sucks the wonder out of things in his own special way. He just adores eating at me and my stuff.

If it’s any consolation, at least he’s consistent. Added bonus: He’s impossible to train, trust me, I've tried. Nowadays, when people ask, I just say, ‘This is how I take care of Escher.’

A pitter-patter of claws follows close on my tail all the way to the stairwell. He pants while I hold my breath and wring my hands, but he’s impossible to ignore. He's driving me up the wall!

But what can I say? We’re inseparable.

I shuffle down one flight of steps, then another.

And then another.

Wait, that's weird, it's quiet. Real quiet.

Where'd he go? I twist around — There’s not a black dog in sight.

…Did he go home? Could he really be gone?! I have a couple of questions, but I’m also grinning like a lunatic.

…Maybe he just got off at another floor. He’s smart enough for that, for sure. I cup my hands around my mouth, “ESCHER!” Who loses a Rottweiler? Not even I could mess up that badly! …Right?

I carry on down, but that's the exact moment Escher decides to materialize on the steps behind me, barking mad and barking loud. I yelp and slide down a few steps, grabbing the bannister in the nick of time. I sigh. “Escher…You’re killin’ me here.”

He bites my ankle! — And not one of those dinky lil’ puppy nibbles, no, he goes the whole nine yards. Unsurprisingly, I cry out and jump about nine yards.

I crash-land and immediately scuttle away. I can brush off the bruises later, but first, I have to put some distance between us, lest he actually get a shot at killing me.

He whimpers once, then pads over like a good boy, all prim and proper. I spit, “What’s wrong with you?”

He licks my hands, then gnaws at my shoe. I sigh and pet him sluggishly.

I've lost.

Now, I’ll be honest, I know Escher. He’s my dog, for crying out loud! I know he’s a very special dog: he’s happy as long as I’m miserable, which I know sounds ridiculous, but he really is a good boy! He helps me steer clear of all the little things that could go wrong, he makes sure I don't say the wrong thing, or find myself in the wrong place at the wrong time. And if that meant stopping me from getting out of bed or leaving the flat, so be it. He watches over me and makes sure I don’t make the same mistakes I’ve been making all my life. He takes care of me more than I could ever take care of him. It was never the other way around.

I’m jerked out of my pity party by the sound of someone entering the stairwell. The missus living next door? She was never one for formalities: “What are you doing out here? You look…” Pathetic? Like I’ve made a terrible mistake? Come on, at least, like I woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

“...Like a million bucks?” I brandish finger guns. I regret it immediately.

“...Tired.” She wasn’t far off the mark. “Are you alright?” She should have spotted Escher strutting around like he owned the place but people seem to get a kick out of pretending my dog doesn’t exist.

“Dog ate my homework.” This was not a lie.

And by some twist of fate, I wound up in her dingy family diner. When my father finally catches up to me, I’m treated to a big show of him barking into a phone at school administration — third absence this week. How about that?

It's the same as it’s always been, Escher’s back, but nothing’s actually changed. Today marks the last in a long line of flubs, and tomorrow, I’ll still be a disappointment all the same. Escher knows this better than anyone else. Escher knows best. “But you know,” I begin, “this morning was all you.”

He pounces without warning and barks in my face! It’s deafening, it’s unbearable. I push him down, yelling, “Down! DOWN! Bad boy!” And is it just me, or does he keep getting heavier?

My father shoots me a weird, mechanical half-glance. It’s as if he doesn’t want to acknowledge Escher’s here, but he also wants to know what’s running through my mind.

And about that: not much at all, really. It’s just that there’s only so much mucking around, poking fun at stuff and shrugging off you can do before you can no longer ignore the howling, ever-present, torrent that coaxes you to curl up in a dark place and slowly tear the skin from your face. But until then, if you kept up a jokey attitude, or were cheery, or generally weirded everyone out, there’s a chance that they wouldn’t worry so much. They’d think you were perfectly sound. And if they could be convinced, maybe you could convince yourself too.

You know that self-assuring nonsense I love so much? At the end of the day, it’s still nonsense. It’s only a matter of time before the black dog paws are your shins and pleads, “Lend me your time, your name, your life. I’ll take good care of it, I promise.” That’s what happened to grandma. She gave in.

And even if Escher never pushes me to the edge of that razor, things won’t ever go back to the way they were before. Even if by some miracle and he suddenly started obeying my commands, things will never be normal — I will never be normal! I will always have Escher! And that’s not okay.

I jump up seething, ready to blame every last offense on Escher and demand someone sort him out.

I’m interrupted by a tapping on my shoulder.

I whip around and, well, this stranger’s small. Around my age. She’s tugging off her hat. I don’t know what I was expecting but it definitely wasn’t the small, curled up blackbird asleep in her hair. She jeers, “Oh, don't be so dramatic! Most people have pets at one point or another. Some people have more than one. Some of us just can’t figure out how to leave them at home even though everywhere is still basically ‘No Pets Allowed’.”

Who did she think she was?! “Yeah, but most people don’t have a Rottweiler.”

She shakes her head vigorously, nearly sending her bird flying, “That’s not my point.”

“Then what is?”

“That you’re not alone in this?”

And I’m taken aback, I want her to know that she's got it all wrong. But for a moment, a weight was lifted. The fight drains right out of me. Whatever it is she's going for, it works.

I nudge Escher away from her. She’s right, I’m not alone, so it couldn’t possibly hurt, could it? To not deal with the black dog right this moment?

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #creative writing #fiction #short story #short fiction #there's a doggo in this one but he's not so great #cookie's stuff #cookie's writing #writing #actual italics abuse i am so sorry

4 notes · View notes

rizuno · 7 years

Note

Write me a ficlet about Stiles finding random love poems/notes written on little scraps of paper stuffed in weird places, like between the seats in the Jeep, in the pockets of hoodie he swore he just washed so how could there be intact paper in there, in his shoes, under his pillow. Who is writing all these notes and how do they keep randomly appearing on Stiles person!?!?!

This is unbeta-d, and I am subjecting you dear reader(s?) to poetry written by me masquerading as English!Major Derek Hale. BASICALLY I’m SORRY ABOUT THE CRAP POETRY OK. also im really fuckin pissed off about the spacing of the poems but tumblr is adamant about pretending to not know what the fuck im trying to do when i try and reformat it i need to stop before i just delete this whole post in a fit of RAGE

For RachelBBY

Scraps

The first time it happens, Stiles doesn’t think anything of it. He figures he just wrote it himself in English and then forgot. It’s just a neglected scrap of paper hiding amidst other papers under his desk, sacrificed on the altar of a weekly allowance with everything else he throws out as he cleans his room. He only really glanced at it anyway, he was preoccupied with being pissed off at Derek for being Derek, thinks it said something about heartbeats and irregular spaces. So that was the incident, he supposes.

The second time he’s got his hand stuffed in the crease of Roscoe’s passenger seat in a desperate search for just one fucking quarter, just one, and withdraws a crumpled piece of paper instead. “How long has that been there?” Stiles asks himself as he de-crumples it to read it. He snorts. Obviously quite a while, it’s a poem, and Stiles knows he didn’t write this one, which means it’s circa the Scott/Allison Era.

you laughed

it was Tuesday

you didn’t know I was there

“Not half bad Scotty,” Stiles murmurs, not bothering to finish the rest of it as he tosses it aside and resumes the quest for one measly quarter cause he just wants a burger. Out of life, all he wants is to eat a burger right now. It’s not so much to ask? Right?

He bitches and moans to Scott about his inability to find a quarter and thus eat a burger, but forgets to ask him about the poem thing. The next time he sees Derek, Derek flips him a quarter with a smirk. “Oh, fuck you,” Stiles says, but pockets the quarter and eats him that fucking burger later that night, after they have all managed, miraculously, to not die. “Victory comes in all forms,” Stiles informs Scott sagely in between mouthfuls. So that’s the coincidence, in all its glory.

The third time has Stiles paying the fuck attention, because he’s digging around his back pocket for the quarter Derek gave him, and just as he remembers he spent it already, his fingers close around what must be a receipt. Stiles heaves a grunt of disgust, no curly fries for him then, and glances at the scrap of paper uninterestedly, out of habit, as his arm moves to toss it into the trashcan across the hall. And then he freezes. It’s not some forgotten transaction, it’s a fucking poem. What the fuck. Stiles unfolds the paper and reads the words in their entirety this time, standing in the middle of the hallway as other students stream around him as they head to class. It’s not very long, but it feels like Stiles takes several hours to read it. He reads it like it was meant for him. It must be? Right?

I think

you don’t think of me

all that often

but I think of you

quite often

I’m thinking of you now

I think of you in the morning

I think of you in my bed

at night

I wonder

if you’re thinking of me now

Stiles swallows. His mouth has gone dry. He feels like he just walked in on someone watching some really hot porn. He feels…intimate. He feels…like he’s now late for science. Stiles whirls around in a flail of limbs and pelts to the science lab. But that scrap of paper he doesn’t toss aside. That scrap he keeps. So there’s the pattern.

Stiles was sorta expecting the next one but he wasn’t prepared to find it lying on his keyboard; not there when he went downstairs to grab a soda and now there when he returns.

He tells himself his fingers are shaking with caffeine intake as he reaches out to unfold it, where it lays so innocuously.

He licks his lips, then reads.

I know you’re thinking of me now

will you think of me tonight

in your bed

with your own hands upon yourself

gasping

flushed

and undone

“Ffffuck,” Stiles hisses out between his teeth. There is no way he’s gonna make it to tonight. He’s got a really great jerk off session going, standing there right in front of his desk at 3:30 in the afternoon, pants only pulled down the bare minimum. He’s like feeling it, he is totally ready for this, ‘makes his knees weak’ orgasm he’s coming up on. And then of course, Scotty has to burst in freaking out about supernatural crisis 3B or 6A or whatever number letter combo they’re on now.

“Come on, man!” They both yell at the same time, Scott throwing up his arms and facing the wall as Stiles fumbles to stuff himself back inside his pants. Scott feels the need to ask why. Stiles rants that it’s the privacy of his own fucking room. Scott mutters something about how Derek thinks they need info. “Since when do you listen to what Derek thinks,” Stiles says petulantly as he tosses Scott a bag of Doritos and moves to sit back at his desk. Scott eats the chips on Stiles’ bed as Stiles furiously looks up shit to the best of his ability. The moment is already forgotten. That sort of awkwardness has happened before, and will probably happen again. Which come on Scott, werewolf, use those supernatural senses for once. After Scott is gone Stiles wonders what four times means. Also he mourns the loss of one of the greatest orgasms he never got to experience.

He finds the next one two nights later, under his pillow as he stretches out on his bed. He’s so relaxed and he’s in bed at a decent hour. Derek did not manage to piss him off when they came across each other briefly earlier in the evening and Stiles is ready for some nappy naps. When his fingers brush the edge of the crinkled bit of paper the first feeling he gets is surprise. It’s quickly followed by a quick dip of excitement in his gut. He doesn’t bother to switch any lights on. Too much effort. He reads it by the light of his phone.

I whisper your name to myself

after you’ve left

it’s fairly pathetic

but then last week

you trapped yourself inside your own hoodie

so at least I’m not alone

And Stiles knows. “Derek,” Stiles whispers furiously. He chucks the paper as hard as he can away from him. Which, it being paper, isn’t that far. It flutters down to rest on the bed beside him. That fucking asshole has been laughing at him this whole fucking time. So that’s what comes after a pattern. Epic fuckery.

Stiles sees Derek first thing the next morning; he’s having like, a pre-game huddle with the Erica-Isaac-Boyd triumvirate in the back parking lot behind the gym. “Stiles,” Derek greets him, the hint of a smile on his lips. “You are pathetic,” Stiles snarls at him. Derek’s jaw clenches and his expression turns cold and distant. Stiles whirls around and marches off in righteous fury. Stiles has enough fucking going on in his life without that kind of shit. Stiles thought, he’d thought…it doesn’t even matter what he thought. He was stupid and a dumbass for thinking it.

So naturally he finds the next poem sandwiched in between the pages of this month’s Great English Novel during 3rd period of that day. Stiles isn’t sure when or even how Derek got it in there, but it certainly wasn’t after this morning. He almost doesn’t read it, doesn’t want to give Derek the satisfaction, but he’s Stiles. He must fucking know. He can’t not.

I dreamed of you

it was warm

and bright

and we were safe

you took my hand

and my heart blazed brighter

when I woke

I pretended that it was the future

and if I am patient

that it will be

any day now

“What,” Stiles whispers. His own heart is sinking fast within his chest. His hand clenches down on the poem. “It was all real,” He realizes out loud.

“What?” Scott whispers from the seat behind him.

Stiles whips around in his seat to face him. “Cover for me,” Stiles begs.

Scott doesn’t know what’s going on, but he doesn’t hesitate. “Go,” he says.

Stiles slips from the room, so preoccupied he doesn’t notice that he doesn’t trip or smack into something once.

Derek won’t be at his apartment. Instinctively, Stiles knows this. He jumps in Roscoe and heads straight for the preserve.

The burned out husk of the Hale house looks as tragic and decimating as ever, but that feeling is especially poignant for Stiles at this moment. He gives Roscoe’s wheel one last squeeze, for luck or bravery or whatever, and steps out of the jeep. He tries to repress a shiver as he looks at the charred and broken edifice before him and fails. This had seemed so much simpler, less complicated back in 3rd period. No, Stiles can do this, he absolutely can. He leaps up what’s left of the front steps and barges through the door. “Derek,” he calls.

A few moments of silence, and then a resigned sigh. “What?” Derek asks, voice flat as he materializes out of wherever he was.

Stiles waves the hand that has not once unclenched on the poem in Derek’s general direction.

“You’re serious?” He accuses.

Derek’s stone face takes on a look of frustration. “Yes, Stiles, I’m serious.”

“I…I mean…why?”

Derek sighs like it’s obvious. “I wrote you poems Stiles.”

Stiles seizes upon a detail he has the mental facilities to deal with at this moment. “Why poems though?”

Derek rolls his eyes. “I’m an English Major, Stiles.” Which rude because, like,

“How was I supposed to know that,” Stiles says defensively.

They stand in silence. Derek doesn’t seem inclined to word anymore today and Stiles is furiously thinking.

“You wanna,” and his left hand, the one not still grasping the poem, makes an abortive movement towards Derek, “hold hands?”

After a moment, Derek uncrosses his arms and says, “Okay.” He reaches out, and then they’re holding hands, bridging a gap between them. It’s kind of…awkward. But it’s only awkward in that Stiles suspects feelings are present kind of way, because Derek’s thumb strokes gently along the back of his hand and Stiles feels kinda like, heart blazing or whatever.

“I think of you pretty often,” Stiles admits. “Like, a lot.”

Derek swallows. “Okay.”

BONUS:

First Poem

your heartbeats are

irregular spaces

I dwell there

and refuse to meet your eyes

when you glance my way

Second Poem

you laughed

it was Tuesday

you didn’t know I was there

I have kept it

for myself; that laugh

longing

for your real

and intransigent

presence

#sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #ficlet #drabble #fanfic #FOR RACHELBBY

208 notes · View notes