#nobody can convince me otherwise like have you SEEN this man? how he sits?? how he acts??? KISSES MEN AND HIS WIFE???? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bijouxcarys · 3 months

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Fine Wine (Robert Plant x fem!OC)

Masterlist

Description: Our fiery OC from Cherry Lips receives a call from the man she's seen the world with, after months of distancing himself. She may just be the medicine he needs in his time of uncertainty…

Word Count: 6.5k

Tags: @celestial-dragoness @firethatgrewsolow @callmethehunter @strsmn @m-faithfull @chromations @angrychicksposts @friccinfricks @inanebula

He was greeted with an icy draft as he pushed open his door. A stark contrast to where he’d been two hours prior. A fleeting bask in the heat of his past. But that’s all it was. Fleeting. In the past.

Robert knew it had to happen. Ahmet would have enjoyed seeing the lads back together, even if it was just for one last show. It was necessary to remind himself of that fact, otherwise the work gone into the past month would be for nothing. Though, his brain—that guy up there—tried to convince the rest of him that it was truly fruitless. And he knew what he’d have to deal with for the next year or so…

Robert, is there any chance of a Zeppelin tour again?

Mr Plant, how did it feel to be up there again?

Do you think Jason lived up to his father’s name?

Are you and Jimmy planning on working together again?

What’s your relationship like with John Paul Jones?

Why wasn’t Stairway To Heaven released as a single?

How do you think your voice has changed?

Robert, why don’t you want to talk about Led Zeppelin?

Bob, can you sign this for me? Bob?! Who the fuck do you think you are, mate? You’re only gunna sell it on eBay.

Scratching at his head, Robert reluctantly turned the light on, revealing his current home exactly how he left it. Hah, why wouldn’t it be? There’s nobody here to disturb it…

There was so much of the world he still needed to discover, to figure out. More music out there to be made. So much bigger than the walls of this London flat sat high up in a building full of more flats, with even more people, with even more stories–Oh, shit, are you Robert Plant? I need to call my best friend and tell her you live right near me!

Thankfully, that common situation was less common in the area he chose to live. It made him feel dirty, buying such a luxurious flat in such a well-established complex. Some called it a penthouse, but no, that was two floors up. Alas, he did have a pleasant view of… the city. Okay, maybe not that, but at least he could go for a walk to the nearest coffee shop… Okay, maybe he couldn’t have that human experience, either.

To think that 34 years ago, he would be in the deep end, engaging in whatever post-show debauchery the band could muster up, and now he was here… A 59-year-old man unable to escape the 25-year-old boy that hadn’t experienced the true meaning of heartbreak yet. He was free, seeing everything in bold, whilst now he lived in a precarious state push and pull.

Desperately wishing for the world to see him as Robert Plant the musician, as opposed to Percy of Led Zeppelin.

Oh. There it is… There lies the conflict—his conflict. If he was hell-bent on enjoying music in all forms, being who he was at heart, why on Earth was he sitting on the edge of his bed, curtains drawn, dwelling on the fact that he wasn’t, in fact, Percy anymore?

Nobody told him the truth. Nobody told him when he was wrong, how he could improve himself. With the odd exception, there wasn’t a single person he came across in his ventures of life, who didn’t automatically compare him to, what he considered, that peacock prick of the 70s.

However, be that as it may, the audacity of Percy still ran rampant through Robert’s veins. If there was one thing age taught him, it was to grab life by the horns, come hell or come victory.

In his self-pity, still slightly buzzed from the bit of alcohol he’d already ingested that night, he took the leap in finding that familiar contact name in his phone, holding it to his ear as the dial tone held his breath with its frequencies.

Her phone rang just as she was about to take her first sip of wine, idly wandering in the kitchen of her sleekly designed flat. Half expecting it to be another call from the supervisor, she answered with an exasperated “Hello?,” bypassing the sensical act of glancing at the caller ID.

“Cherry…” he rasped, the name tasting bittersweet on his tongue.

Stiffening her posture, her previously tired eyes had blown open at the voice on the other end, as clear and crisp as it was in person. “Robert?”

“Cherry,” he repeated the silly nickname he’d given her a decade prior.

“Uh…” Delicately setting her wine glass back on the counter, she leaned against it, quizzically dropping her eyes to the floor. “This is unexpected…” She heard a gruff sigh, followed by some movement, coming from his end.

“I’m sorry…” he apologised, running a hand over his face as he stared out of his bedroom window. His phone felt heavy in his hand, bearing the weight of his audacity. Audacity he knew he should have kept at bay. “I guess age makes ya more of an arsehole…” he mumbled.

“Age? What are you talking about? Are you alright?”

“I’m as alright as an old man can be…”

“Your crypticism isn’t helping you seem less like an arsehole, if that’s what you’re concerned about.” Rolling her eyes, she moved to grab her wine again, making her way over to the sofa.

A lengthy pause followed. There’s a reason they describe silence as deafening. It irritated her to no end; she was able to take two whole sips of her wine during the time he left her in this ominous limbo.

“Why are you calling me?” she finally asked through a sigh, perching herself on the arm of her sofa, swirling the fragile liquid in her glass.

“Just… wanted to talk.” His words were unconvincing. Like a stroppy teenager insisting they want the beef stew bubbling on the stove, all whilst eyeing the takeaway menu on the fridge. She could read him, even through the phone. Plenty of practice by now.

“Well, so far it’s just been me talking…” She waited for an answer, even checking her phone to see that they were still connected. “Are you gonna tell me what’s up?”

“Nothing’s up…”

“Okay, and I’m currently in Russia,” she responded dryly.

“Are you?”

“Seriously, Robert?” she huffed, scrunching her eyebrows up at his atypical ignorance. “Look, if you’re not going to tell me why you really called me, I’ll just hang up, I’ve got zero patience for this right now.”

Yes, that’s it… Tell me I’m wrong. Give it to me straight. A satisfied smile tugged at his lips as he dropped his head in relief.

“Please tell me what’s wrong…” Her voice softened, almost mimicking a beg.

He chewed his lip, glancing at the clock on his bedside table. Was he really this pathetic that he needed a woman to come over and make this already stressful evening a little less gruelling? Well, yes, he was. To him, at least.

“Do you, uh… think you’d be able to come over?” His voice faltered.

Pausing mid-sip, she double checked that she was hearing things right. That her ears weren’t playing tricks on her. It wouldn’t be that outlandish to suggest auditory hallucinations at this point; it was bizarre enough that he was calling her in the first place. “You want me to come over? As in… to you? Right now?”

“Please…”

The silence that followed was thick with anticipation, punctuated only by the distant hum of traffic outside Robert’s window. He held his breath, waiting anxiously for her reply, acutely aware that he was asking a lot.

Finally, she broke the silence with a soft exhale, her voice tinged in a subtle mixture of disbelief and curiosity. “I guess I could… Why do you want me to come?”

Robert’s mind raced, searching for the right words to explain the tumult of emotions swirling within him. “I… I just need somebody,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Someone who won’t sugar coat things… Someone who knows me.”

She felt her heart stumble at his vulnerability, how fragile his voice sounded on the other end of the phone. Despite the fact that their interactions had become sparse over the last year, she couldn’t ignore the connection that still lingered between them, forged in the crucible of the years they’d spent in each other’s company.

Without another word, she made a decision, fuelled by compassion: rarely felt, but cherished when present. “Alright,” she said softly, her resolve firm. “I’ll come over. But you have to promise me something…”

A spark of hope ignited within Robert’s chest as he listened intently, hanging on her every word.

“...You have to tell me what’s bothering you. And don’t try and downplay it, either. Deal?”

A wave of relief washed over Robert as he nodded, a sense of gratitude playing eagerly at his heart. “Deal,” he agreed.

That leads them to the present, sat across from one another in his living room. Neither of them knew how the night would end, but all Robert knew was that he appreciated her willingness to come over at all.

“I thought you might have been out,” she speculated, accepting a glass of wine as a gallant replacement of the one she had to pour down the sink at home. Robert immediately shook his head, resting into the sofa with a hand rubbing around his bristly beard, unknowingly complimenting his fine wine allure. “Didn’t fancy another rodeo, huh?” she wittingly asked.

“I should imagine Jonesy’s all cosied up with Mo by now. Don’t know if I can say the same about Jimmy, though,” he huffed through a rueful laugh.

Biting her lip, she smirked to herself at his implication that Jimmy hadn’t lost his wild streak. “Well, I think it would be rather bizarre if Jimmy was with John’s wife right now, don’t you?” Injecting a bit of light into the atmosphere with her jesting tone, her smile grew with Robert’s in response.

Robert’s gaze lingered on her, from the light dimples on her cheeks, to the lips he would kill for. Though, now, they remained painted with a more natural tone as opposed to the deep cherry tint he associated with her. So beautiful.

She had to admit, upon noticing his wandering eyes, a familiar flicker kindled in her stomach, taking her back to the moment he first surveyed her from afar, all those years ago. “So…” she breathed, angling forward with her elbow resting into the cushiony surface of the chair arm, adjacent to the matching sofa Robert had relaxed on. Nestling her chin into her hand, she studied him. “What’s going on?”

Smile falling slightly, Robert cleared his throat and took a sip from his wine. It was discernible how desperately he was clambering to find the words, thoughts racing a millions miles a minute.

“Robert, I can’t help you if you don’t tell m–”

“Do you think I’ve lost my looks?”

Now, she wasn’t expecting that one.

Anyone who took one transient careen at him instantly concluded that Robert Plant knew of his appeal. So aware of his allure, it bordered on arrogance. He always played the game, no questions asked.

She let out an unintentional scoff, amused by his inquiry. Surely, he wasn’t serious. However, upon leering into his eyes a moment longer, she quickly realised he was being anything but frivolous.

Through a fated smirk, she asked him, “Is that really what you’re so upset about right now?”

He winced, huffing as he shifted on the sofa. “Not really. Well–yes, but no…”

“My God, men are so indecisive.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” he shot back with a boyish grin.

“Stop,” she pointed her finger at him. “Stop being so charming and funny, it doesn’t work on me.”

“Are you sure about that, darlin’?”

“You’re diverting.”

“So are you.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not the one who called after not bothering for months on end, am I?” And…there it is.

He knew this was going to come up at some point, and he was inclined to agree with the vexation it bestowed upon her. As he kept his eyes firmly locked on hers, he saw as clear as day the betrayal that encompassed her. Perhaps a strong word for their situation, but the hurt in her eyes spoke of nothing less.

“Cherry… I’m sor—“

“That seems to be the only word you know lately, Robert,” she interrupted him coolly. “Y’know, I came over because you sounded upset, and believe it or not, I still care about you.” She rose from the seat, making steady back and forth paces across his flat. “God knows why I care about you, but I do.”

Robert parted his lips to speak, but she kept going.

“Do you know how happy I was when I got your text the other month?” she asked, turning to look at him. “Even if it was just to say happy birthday.” She shrugged. “Maybe some tiny little part of me wished that you’d have kept in touch, but then I came to my senses and realised that you’re Robert fucking Plant!” She chuckled airily, running her hand through her hair.

His gaze fell to the floor, pondering her words like a bout of bad news. With a swallow, he slowly responded. “And why is Robert Plant so different?” Her scoff brought his eyes back to hers.

Then, almost as if it pained her to utter the words, a stern gleam in those big brown eyes, she answered with the truth. The whole truth. Nothing but the truth.

“…Because nobody comes close… to being like you.”

Compliments. More compliments. He shook his head with an exasperated resolve.

“No, don’t shake your head, when you know it’s the truth.” Taking a deep breath, she stepped a little closer to him, staring him down like a predator cornering its prey. “So I’m gonna ask you again…” she uttered, “What’s wrong?”

“I told you—“

“You asked me if I thought you’d lost your looks, you told me nothi—“

“I’m old!” He finally snapped, voice uncharacteristically raising. Distressed. Vulnerable. He shot up from the sofa, peering down at her with hesitant eyes. “All those people who came to see me tonight,” he pointed in the direction of the window, “They wanted to see that bare-chested young lad strutting around the stage and wailing like a newborn fuckin’ lamb!”

Robert breathed out heavily. It was his turn to start pacing, everything that had built up all evening practically spilling out of him like nickels from a glass bottle.

“Ya know, I’ve tried for the past 25 years to not be that anymore, to get as far away as I possibly could from all the bollocks, but tonight was a real fuckin’ grim reminder that all anyone ever cares about is my name!”

She’d never seen him this irate. He had his moments, irritable and unsatisfied with certain situations and people around him, but never failed to remain calm and respectful at all costs. The man she watched bounce back and forth in the dim light of his very un-Robert-esq home was the personification of a life lived to the fullest, only to reach a point in which there seemed very little left.

“Robert, I—“

“I realise I’m a massive fuckin’ hypocrite, by the way—being upset about people always expecting the young, virile Robert Plant, but also wishing I could have been that tonight.” Spinning on his heel to make another lap of the room, he was halted when she stepped in front of him, hands coming up to hold onto his arms. “Does any of that make sense, Cherry? Or am I going bonkers?” he asked with a hushed tone.

Sighing, she looked over his attire. Silky shirt with some sensible black slacks, encasing a body that displayed his advancing age. The lines on his face spoke of an earthy wisdom and a lifetime of laughter. Hair, previously a vivacious blonde, now faultlessly whisked with an ashy tint. His stomach was no longer landscaped, and one could no longer catch the intensity of his muscular build.

No, he wasn’t what the world instantly pictured when faced with his name. But he was still, without a doubt, the most beautiful man she had ever seen.

“Robert…” she breathed, bringing a hand up to gently trace the pads of her fingers over his beard, along his jaw, before stopping to place her hand flat against the side of his face. “My sweet, darling Robert… You have no idea, do you?” Dropping her voice to a whisper, she took in the edges of his features, how the blue in his eyes still shone brighter than any star in the sky.

The warmth of her hand against his skin made him weak. His eyes hooded, and he found himself instinctively resting into her touch. “About what?” he replied, matching her tone. His hand wrapped around her wrist, keeping her near.

Endearing was the word that sprung to mind. He was so endearing at that moment. So naively heedless. She couldn’t help but smile, as if a whole new light was gleaming down on him. Layers she had never been able to peel away were now crumbling at the lightest touch.

“How perfect you are…”

“I’m far from perfect.”

“Maybe not by the official definition,” she agreed. “But my definition… it’s all you, Robert.”

Any anger she may have felt for his distancing himself, any iota of annoyance at his unintentional ignorance, was insignificant when compared to the kind of love she felt for this man. “I don’t care how old you are. I mean, you’re not even that old,” she chuckled. “I don’t care that you’re not… Percy, or however you want to describe yourself back then.”

Robert’s eyes shut as he gently rested his forehead against hers, hands lowering to grip onto her waist like he’d never get to again.

“I never knew you as that person, and I don’t want to. Because the man that’s been in my life for the past 10 years has given me more to live for than any arrogant little peacock could,” she grinned at her own wording, knowing she was using his own opinion of himself as ammunition. He picked up on it, a low chuckle rumbling in his throat.

“And let’s not forget,” she smirked, snaking her arms over his shoulders. “A lot of girls have a preference for older men, Robert, and as far as I’m concerned, you’re the ideal. Plus, we don’t call you Daddy for no reason…” she giggled.

Even through his subdued demeanour, a tint of light pink coloured his cheeks; he hid it by dropping his head to her shoulder, tilting to take in her scent. “I don’t care about a lot of girls right now…” His words were muffled, but the way his lips gently tickled the side of her neck spoke for him.

“Robert?”

He lifted his head to look down at her. “Hm?”

“You’re beautiful,” she told him firmly. “Okay? I don’t ever want to hear you saying otherwise, because it’s bollocks. Pure bollocks. Alright?”

Okay, well maybe one person tells me the truth…

With a smile, he bit his lip and nodded, willing to take any word that fell from her perfect lips as gospel.

“Good.”

“Can I kiss you now, or am I still in troub–”

She cut him off with a heady kiss, hand holding the back of his head and fingers gripping at his corkscrew locks. A sigh of relief fell from him as he mirrored the passion, wrapping his arm around her shoulders to cradle her, encompassing her in his hold. His own fingers made a venture, delicately threading through her thick hair.

Eventually, he found himself backing her in the direction of his bedroom, willing footsteps following his lead. She didn’t even have to give herself to him. All she needed to do to keep his mind at bay, stop the intrusive thoughts from swirling in the recesses of his rapid mind, was be there.

But his Cherry was always insatiable, no matter the situation she found herself in. Like his own, her libido intensified in her 30s, and he deemed himself lucky to be on the receiving end of such licentious longing.

“I’m not gonna lie to you,” she hummed as Robert trailed his kisses along her cheek, eventually stopping at her neck. “When I got home from work, I wasn’t expecting anything like this to be happening tonight.” His bristly facial hair was tough against her skin, but provided a stimulating tingle nonetheless.

Chuckling, he nipped at her neck and guided her further backwards until she had no choice but to let her weight fall onto the bed, his following suit. His face hovered closely over hers, taking in her features. Admiring. Silently worshipping. She was everything.

“What?” she whispered up at him, stroking her thumb over his cheek.

Shaking his head, a small smile appeared on his lips. “Nothing… Just happy you’re here. With me.”

She huffed out a small laugh, placing a barely-there kiss to the tip of his nose, before nudging him to lay down so she could settle on top of him, legs trapping him under her. Using her hand flat on the bed beside his head, she propped herself up as she lingered over him. His hands were urgent as they gripped onto her hips, needily pressing his fingers against her curves. God, he wanted her so bad… It was next to impossible to be in the same room as her and not experience the familiar twitch below. That bloody blazer… She made every article of clothing look perfect, and she looked perfect wearing them.

Clocking his distracted gaze with a smirk, she smoothly brushed stray curls from his face. “What do you want, Robert?” she whispered, watching the way his eyes dilated and flickered through a mirage of emotions. “Tell me…” she encouraged, her lower lip slipping between her teeth in anticipation of his answer—an answer she was certain she could predict.

He sighed heavily, tilting his head to the side. “I don’t want you to think it’s all I called you over for, darlin’...”

She responded with a sweet smile and an airy laugh, shaking her head. “Hmm, no…” she mumbled, glancing down at his lips. “You told me why you called me over…” Lowering her face to his, their lips narrowly skimmed over one another.

“Now, I need you to tell me why you want me to stay…” Her voice had dropped to a sultry whisper, accompanied with a bold shift of her hips.

Jaw clenching, his grip on her tightened, goading her to keep up with her movements, to which she complied. “You really want to know, luv?” he gruffly asked.

“Dying to know…” she replied through a breathy sigh and a subtle smirk.

It seemed a mere millisecond had passed before one of his hands came up to hold onto the back of her head, pulling her down so he could speak directly into her ear.

“I want to feel you again,” he began, inching his other hand steadily from her hip in the direction of her backside. Guiding the paced movements she was still conducting. “Want to feel you forever,” he continued, words muffled against her.

By now, the strength keeping her propped up had waned and she found herself collapsing against him, once again completely wrapped up in his embrace, adhering to his ministrations, playing into his hands.

“I miss the way you wrap around me, baby,” he kept talking, barely realising each syllable sparked flutters between her legs. “And how sweet you taste…” Maybe he’d forgotten how much she enjoyed his voice in these intimate moments, but as she continued the rolling motion of her hips, the friction against her heightening arousal dragged a choked moan from her throat.

“Oh, ya like the sound of that, do you?” he provoked, his hand now holding onto her rear, but no longer guiding her; she was doing that all on her own. Taking her face in both of his hands, he brought her back up to face him. The familiar flush on her face, hooded eyes, the way her lips had parted and gentle gasps had fallen… “You like me talkin’ like that, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” she breathed with a wanton nod. “Please…”

“Please, what, darlin’?”

“I-I need you…”

“You need me to do what?” His fingers began a steady journey over her chest, down to her stomach, where he inched his hand under the thin material of her blouse. Skin to skin. Fuck…

She whined, gripping onto his shirt, a furrow in her brow. “You know what I want, Robert…”

“Hmm, not sure I do–”

“I will leave if you keep playing with me.” As much as she wanted her threat to sound genuine, stern, her body was completely ablaze, and there was no way it sounded any stronger than a desperate plea.

Robert smirked at her, sneakily managing to slip his hand further down, until it was snuggly hidden within her trousers, her arousal prominent against the soft lace of her underwear. She gasped as he applied pressure, grounding her hips involuntarily.

“Somethin’ tells me yer not going anywhere, luv.”

Smug prick… Always so fucking charming…

Her eyes fluttered shut as he released the pressure against her underwear, but instantly reapplied it.

“I can already feel how badly you need me, sweetheart,” he casually commented, loving the way he could break her down. Just with a mere touch. “You just have to tell me… then I can give you everything you need and more…”

“My God, just fuck me already…” she murmured, craving more than a simple touch over a layer of clothing. Robert responded with a throaty chuckle, beaming at her as he removed his hand from her trousers and swiftly pulled himself up into a seated position, her legs immediately wrapping around him to stop herself from falling back.

With a challenging glint in his eye, he leaned forward, arms encircled securely around her as she dangled from his lap off the side of the bed. Her hands were holding onto his shoulders, giving him a warning glare.

“Now, now, don’t give me that look…” he chided, lowering his gaze down to her attire. “You look gorgeous in this blazer, but I think it needs to come off now.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” She obediently shrugged the heavy fabric from her shoulders, trusting that Robert wouldn’t drop her in the process. It fell to the floor, landing in a crumple—she’d surely chastise herself when the time came to put it back on, but at that moment, she couldn’t have cared any less.

A sharp squeal exited her mouth as Robert suddenly stood up, swung around and dropped her on the bed. He gave her a cheeky smirk, before lifting her legs to perch on his shoulders. Turning his head, he delicately worked the buckle on her heel loose.

“I like these shoes,” he nonchalantly complimented as he pulled it off her foot, dropping it down the side of the bed, before he repeated the action on the other. He pressed a kiss to her ankle and lowered his hands to unbutton her trousers, tugging at them when she lifted her hips.

There she was, laid over his bed, in nothing but a white, gossamer blouse and the contrasting underwear in a characteristic black lace.

“Y’know…” Sighing, he crawled over her, allowing her to slowly pop open the buttons of his shirt when he got close enough. “I’ve always wondered—with you in particular—how I managed to get so lucky.” He ran his hands up and down her bare thighs, savouring the smooth skin under his fingertips.

She didn’t necessarily answer him, only sent him a playful eye roll before pushing the intricate silk from his shoulders, where it was then tossed to the side to join her trousers on the floor.

Robert displayed no sign of hesitancy in his shirtless glory; he looked like a transcendental entity—a god of his own likeness. So deserving of everything good, yet the creator of the very same thing.

Her wandering eyes flooded with lust. She cursed the inability to squeeze her thighs together at the sight, at the situation. But before she could mourn the friction, he was down there in its place, as though he saw right through her longing. The soft fabric of her blouse became too constricting as her heart hammered away at the image of Robert knelt down on the floor with his upper body slotted between her legs, so she unbuttoned the garment, the air around them hitting her skin in a stark revelation.

“I told you I missed how you tasted,” he mumbled against her thigh as he peppered small kisses along the flesh, inching closer to her aching core, but bypassing it to replicate the motions on the other leg. His beard added a bout of sensation, hips rolling upwards in her thinned patience.

When he pressed his mouth against her clothed centre, she exhaled deeply, the simple touch sending sparks all throughout her body. Robert hummed against her as he caught her scent, mouth aching to taste what laid beneath the flimsy material. Soon enough, his own stoicism scattered—he had to have her against his tongue, now.

With a hungry resolve, he pulled the lace down her legs and pushed her open, the sight stirring his fervour below. He glanced up at his Cherry, deftly tracing his thumb over her already teary folds. She had her head settled against the soft sheets, managing her breathing in preparation for the delicious sensations that were to come. My perfect girl… Robert leered proudly, looking back down at the view.

He gently spread her open, her bijou pearl enticing and ready for the taking. Pink, glistening…

“So pretty…” he murmured to himself, taking an experimental lick just below the sensitive nub, eliciting a small flinch from the goddess laid in front of him. He licked his lips, relishing his appetiser. Next, he flattened his tongue against her entrance, collecting her arousal, and dragging upwards until he gave her the contact she so desperately needed.

By the time he attached his lips to her clit, she was already pining, throbbing. A small cry fell from her lips as he performed a suction motion, tongue swirling around her in lazy circles. She was trapped in his hold as he wrapped his arms around her legs, keeping her open and completely at his mercy.

Robert proved, with the sublime movements he bestowed upon her, that old men do, in fact, do it better.

With a grunt, he pulled his head back long enough to lewdly spit, mixing their fluids together in a union of lust. Her pants were a pleasant breeze to his ears, and her writhing form was his reward.

“That feel good, darlin’?” She nodded her head, one of her legs pulling him closer to her. “Look at me.” With a whimper, she lifted her head with the strength she could muster to meet his stormy eyes—eyes punctuated by grooves of sagacity. “Yer still my good girl,” he praised with a knowing smile, the wisps on his lower face shimmering with her juices. “Aren’t you?” She nodded again, practically unable to speak through her yearning. “Words, luv.”

“Yes… I’m still your good girl,” she shakily succeeded, swallowing thickly.

“Yeah, you are…” he whispered, pressing a brief kiss to her core. “Still Daddy’s good girl…”

She furrowed her eyebrows at the name she hadn’t heard in so long. The name she hadn’t even uttered to anyone else since the last time she found herself in this position with Robert.

An untamable animal under a gentle predator with an even stronger desire to tame.

“I’m gonna make this pretty little cunt cum now, darlin’,” he hummed, “You just lay back and enjoy every second…” He eased her back down with a hand on her stomach, before lowering his head and resuming with his erotic assault.

An elongated moan expelled from her body as Robert seemed to return with a vengeance, tongue rapid against her pulsating, swollen clit, edging her—driving her—towards a much craved release.

Once he slipped a finger inside, stroking upwards in tandem with his tongue, she was done for. Her moans turned to cries, her whimpers turned to whines, and his name flew from her lips at a rocketing pace.

Hips gyrating, back arching, she was in ecstasy.

Gripping tightly onto the bed sheet beside her head, her legs tightened over his shoulders, drawing him closer than ever.

Another finger.

More suction.

Closer.

And closer…

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum—don’t stop,” she gasped.

He didn’t.

What followed was nothing short of an otherworldly climax, tensing all over, gripping his fingers and pulsating into his mouth. Her hand shot to his hair, grabbing at the ash-blonde curls as he growled in validation, drinking in her release with the vigour of a water-starved cheetah.

She rode her orgasm out, body shaking and twitching as his comedown kisses hit sensitively against her. Eventually, he ceased his motions, snaking up her body, marking her on his journey. Each searing kiss to her flushed skin accompanied an indentation of his teeth. When he got to her chest, he dragged his lips between her breasts, up her neck, and finally punctuated with a heated kiss to her lips.

Her remaining clothes were quickly shed, as was his, as they fell deeper into their salacious reunion. Inching up the bed in the scorch of their connection. Both eager, desperate, urgent. It didn’t even feel real when he eventually eased his cock between her legs, filling her up with a steady thrust of his hips.

Robert never seemed to pull back from her; only stayed as close as possible, absorbing her every reaction, even the most miniscule, the most subtle… He noticed everything.

The pace he set. The small tightening of her limbs wrapped around him. The rhythm of her breathing. And, of course, the ripples and twitches and flutters from her welcoming cunt. She took all of him so well—she always did.

How he’d gone so long without her was a mystery. A foolish decision on his part, for he never felt more alive than when in her presence.

Hooking his arm underneath one leg, her body titled, cock kissing the hilt of her walls with every passion-filled jive. Her moans were melodic at least, with no limitations in their effect on Robert’s reverie. Fingernails raked over his back. Noses brushed against one another. Eyes fought to stay adhered. It was the copulation of a lifetime; even the first night they spent together sat miles from this.

“Cherry…” he groaned, evidently darkened chest hair grazing along her bare skin.

“No…” she managed to choke out, shaking her head. “D… Don’t call me that…”

Even more than her words, her eyes begged him to drop the silly nickname; it scarcely matched the moment, and gave their kinship too superficial a meaning.

With a smile of admiration, he pressed his lips to hers, free hand raking through her hair as his thrusts gained a jolting flair, building them up. Closer, and closer…

“Grace,” he finally whispered against her lips. “Grace, Grace, Grace…” he breathed, dropping his head to her neck.

Her name was exemplary on his lips. He practically chanted it the more he drove into her, knowing he was bringing them both closer by the second.

A lifetime could have passed, and neither one of them would have noticed. Completely, utterly, wrapped up in their mutual admiration for each other. Nothing else mattered. Their jobs, and all the emotions that came with them, were peripheral. Faded into the background. All that remained were the two of them.

Robert and Grace.

“R-Robert…” she panted, lips brushing against his shoulder. “God… fuck, I’m close…”

“Yeah?” he mumbled against her neck, his nipping quickly turning into biting, sucking, claiming.

“Mhm,” she nodded with a whimper, lifting her hips to meet his eager thrusts.

“That’s it, baby…” he approved, ensuring to match their rhythms. His breathing waned in its regularity, a heat rolled over his entire body. Just need to feel her… “Cum for me, Grace, please… can’t hold it any longer—fuck, you feel so good.”

It took mere minutes after Robert moved to press his forehead against hers, staring her down, for her to finally succumb to his behemoth gifts. She held onto the side of his face, nails digging into his shoulder painfully as she clung to him.

Ears buzzing. Eyes blurring. Head thumping with the beat of her heart. The way she gripped around him, paired with the breathtaking expression of her face as she reached her zenith, was almost too much for him to handle.

“Fucking hell…” he groaned, taking in her responsive form as validation of his abilities. During her descent, he spilled into her, restrain seeming like a fargone possibility. He gyrated, growled, and ensured to empty himself completely inside of her.

Their bodies were tacky, hot, flustered, trembling, as they laid there, entangled in each other’s limbs. Her eyes fluttered open, focusing on the overhead lights in his room that were yet to be switched on since his return home. Having him in her arms, in his bed, was a long-awaited scenario she never thought would come to fruition.

But it had.

Eventually, he rolled over, bringing her into his protective hold. Somewhere, lingering in the back of his mind, he feared she wouldn’t be here come sunrise. That she’d realise she was making a mistake, take one look at him upon waking up, and disappear as quickly as possible. The grip he had on her was his way of keeping her there, with him, for as long as he could.

Though, it just wasn’t enough to ease his mind…

“Grace…” he called out slowly, his voice practically shot.

“Yeah?” She looked up at him, head resting on his chest.

“Can you stay?”

What a question to ask… She raised an eyebrow, looking into his eyes. The uncertainty baffled her. How he thought she might leave was an enigma to her.

“I wasn’t planning on leaving,” she assured him with a whisper.

He responded with a sigh of relief, and a kiss to her hair, before shifting the two of them further up the bed so they could comfortably bury themselves under his sheets.

There was no second guessing herself as she wrapped her arms around him, his back pressing against her chest. She held him close, smiling to herself when he found her hand, lacing their fingers together in such an affectionate position.

They laid there, lit by only the city lights that spilled through the edges of his curtains, for a few more minutes. Listening to the beating of each other’s hearts, and the steady rhythm of each other’s breathing.

“Will you stay for breakfast?”

Grace opened her eyes, giggling softly. “Yes, Robert. I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

Oh, darling… that would be forever.

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literaltrashforeverything · 1 year

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I'm gonna die on my deathbed explaining why Ghost is actually a normal person outside the military and he's extremely mischaracterized.

You will never be able to convince me that Simon "Ghost" Riley doesn't do normal person things outside of his job. Sure, his information his top-secret, but that's all the more reason for him to be a normal person outside deployments.

💀

Here's examples of Ghost being domestic:

- He goes grocery shopping every Thursday at 2:30PM because it's when the store is the least busy.

- He wears a black fabric surgical mask when he's not at home. He's more comfortable covering his face but it's not an issue if he's somewhere where he can't have a mask.

Was strangely comforted when COVID happened because it normalized wearing face masks.

- He sits in the mirror of his bathroom every two weeks so he can chop his hair when he grows too long.

- He's a phenomenal sniper but when it's time to shave his face then suddenly his hands are shaking and he's cut himself at least 4 times. (Prolly that sharp jawline 🤭)

- Loves dogs. Will ask people if he can pet their dog. (They're shitting themselves bc this giant masked man just asked to pet their dog in the most monotone voice)

- Has called Price to ask for advice on dating. He's got a crush on the girl from the coffee shop down the street from his flat and he needs some help on asking her out.

- when he's not on a deployment, he's probably at home eating pocky while watching Top Gun. Ends up falling asleep on the couch and snores like a dad.

- he's probably in his late 20s-early 30s and owns a flat somewhere in Manchester. (He was never able to fully separate himself from where he grew up)

- has a pet beta fish named Toes that the old neighbor lady takes care of while he's on deployment.

- He secretly pulls pranks around base when he's stationed somewhere. Nobody knows it's Ghost secretly leaving tiny plastic babies from Amazon around the entire base. He never gets caught and it's still a mystery where these babies keep popping up at.

- drinks milk, probably

- Will get violent if he watches an American microwave tea in front of him.

- Like Price, he WILL correct the word "soccer" into "football" like he's got some type of vendetta against the audacity.

- Sneezes like a fucking dad

- He's severely allergic to cats so the second he sees one, he will instantly abort mission. It's a whole scene watching a 6'5 skull-masked man jerk back the second a cat steps in front of him while he's on a mission.

- Hates spiders. He's not the spider killer around the base. Will not go into a room if he's seen a spider in there unless someone else killed it for him.

- He listens to Queen, you can't convince me otherwise.

- (Killer Queen is his favorite)

- He actually has an entire tattoo sleeve on his left arm, not just a forearm sleeve. If you look close enough, you can tell that it's actually just the most cliché military tattoo sleeve that's ever existed. He didn't even care what the tattoo was, he just wanted one to look cool.

- Bad Santa is unironically his favorite movie.

- Plays first-person shooter games with Gaz sometimes and always loses.

- Is the guy who brings beer to literally any event ever. Without fail. And it's always a beer that only he likes so he can have it all for himself. Everyone else started drinking them despite how disgusting they are just because they figured out that he was trying to hoard it for himself.

- Sucks at playing Monopoly. Absolutely no strategy.

💀

I can keep going lmao. I have ideas for days lmaooo

#ghost #cod #call of duty #simon riley #simon riley #mw2 #mwii #price #soap #gaz #modern warfare #modern warfare 2

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not-me-simping-for-blasty · 3 years

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domestic life w/ bakugou thoughts pt 2910488:

- biggest scary dog privilege imaginable. just- nobody is even going to look at you when you’re walking with bakugou. (bc even creeps wont try to provoke an animal that clearly has rabies)

- tries to eat as many meals as he can w/ you. regardless of what he says, he truly doesn’t like eating alone and will wait if he has to

- if u ever manage to drag him into a self-care day, he’s falling asleep .3 seconds in. somethin about the nice smelling products, your gentle hands against his skin, your soft voice explaining how long to leave his face mask on???? pls he’s out

- gets genuinely upset over any of his houseplants dying. like, full-day grieving event bc he feels frustrated over being a “failure” (he’s so dramatic i swear)

- rlly good at mumbling “5 more minutes- ‘s cold, don’t fuckin’ get up.” into your shoulder blades on the rare chance you try to leave the before he’s ready to

- he will fully argue w/ any pets you have. just, red in the face and debating w/ your cat who just swiped a glass off the table

- probably begs you to work out with him. n it’s so hard to say no bc he literally never asks for anything he truly wants. you’ll be wishing u did say no tho bc working out w/ him somehow feels way more like self-harm than self-improvement

- snores like a kitten. no u can’t convince me otherwise and no i will never under any circumstances be taking criticism about this

- bakugou normally gets up way earlier than u, but if u rlly wanna treat him, set his alarm back like 5-10 mins. while he “sleeps in” make him breakfast n eat w/ him before he goes off to work,,, 10/10 times he’ll almost be late out the door bc he can’t figure out how to stop pulling you into his arms (he can’t help it okay, it’s not his fault when you’re being so sweet)

- gossiping w/ him is genuinely entertaining. not bc he has anything of interest to share, but entirely bc of the comments he makes. like sometimes you’ll look over at him, and he’s just completely heated, spitting as he goes on a tirade about how your shared friend is such a “fuckin’ idiot, empty-headed, loser”

- runs into shit constantly. u cannot tell me this man isn’t clipping doorways w/ his shoulder, isnt accidentally cutting a corner and hitting his hip. he is. he just is.

- he probably does little stuff for u. like always making sure your pantry is stocked up w/ stuff you like to eat, or always replacing toilet rolls so you never have to run out. just tiny, minuscule every day stuff. like, if you’re not looking closely you’ll never notice, but once you do it’s like the list of all he does is endless

- calls his mother a lot actually. legitimately sounds like he wants to kill himself the entire time he’s on the phone, but always hangs up with a “Yeah, yeah, call you next week, hag. Same fuckin’ time. Don’t be late.” ,,, n then he keeps his word. he’s on the phone the same time next week w/out fail

- mans always has a hand on you. like if ur sitting next to him than his hand is on ur thigh, or wrapped around ur ankle, or idly running up the inside of ur arm,,, not even bc he’s trying to start something or anything,, he rlly just doesn’t realize he’s even doing it

- bakugou says that stupid as hell “I’m just resting my eyes” dad thing when he’s falling asleep and doesn’t want to admit it

- has a set of knives for cooking that only he is allowed to use. sometimes u swear he loves them more than he loves u

- u’ve never seen this man put something down gently. he has slammed down every item he has ever held in his hands

- probably sleeps all curled up into a ball. u cannot tell me that bakugou’s raging insecurities don’t have him absolutely locked up into fetal position every night

- lmao if u live with him long enough bakugou will straight up develop separation anxiety. like, he’ll just be pissy and disoriented and unsettled if he’s separated from the routine of being with u for too long

- has a frightening obsession with keeping your home bug-free. takes a slightly worrying amount of joy from squashing insects beneath his fingers

- sniffs food out, like a literal dog, before he eats it

- bakugou is such a primadonna about home decor. no rlly. if u ever try to pick out any major furniture without him, mans is throwing a fit

- taking him shopping is so funny lmao. if u faked that you were “worried about all the bags being heavy” and tried to “carry some of the burden” ,,,, pls u could have that fool looking like a pack animal by the end of the day. easy work bc his ego will never let u carry anything

- will melt immediately if you offer to give him a massage after he’s done w/ hero work for the day. just completely boneless beneath your fingers as he shuts his eyes

- bakugou probably does weird little exercises when he’s got too much energy. like he’s being annoying, complaining that he’s bored one moment and then next he’s got a yoga mat out and he’s rolling himself into a pretzel the next

- eats the nastiest looking health food you’ve ever seen. like it honestly looks disgusting but he swears its good for him

- will absolutely create new words just so he can call people incredibly targeted and personal slurs. gets the happiest u’ve ever seen him on the rare chance u repeat an insult he came up with

- bakugou will talk shit about ur neighbors even if he’s never met them. even if he’s never seen them. just cannot keep his mouth shut about anything ever and unfortunately ur unsuspecting neighbors make the easiest targets

- has a tendency to praise himself when bakugou feels that something he did goes unnoticed. like, if he did cleaned the kitchen and u don’t immediately comment on it then its “Wow, Katsuki, thank you so much for bustin’ your fuckin’ ass for this family! The kitchen looks great!” mumbled indignantly under his breath

- chugs any/all drinks he has ever had. breathes heavy afterwards like a toddler. its embarrassing for everyone involved

#bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugou #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #bnha fic #bakugou x y/n #mha bakugou #bakugou imagine #bakugou fic #bakugou headcannon #bakugou headcannons #bakugou hcs

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soulmate-game · 3 years

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Not related to the other two Bio!mom Harley AUs that I did. Just... similar. I wrote this instead of sleeping, as per the usual.

—*—*—*—*—*

“I need your help.”

No accent, no threats of violence, no beating around the bush (figurative or otherwise). No fighting or unconscious bodies.

Just Harley Quinn with her hair down, no makeup, and completely serious, in the center of the Bat Cave. Even though her usual exaggerated Brooklynn accent (circa 1950s) had become a pretty inseparable part of her personality over the years, every now and then she forcibly stuffed it down and used her mostly unaccented voice. The one reminiscent of days with less colors on her face, a high bun, and a pristine white lab coat.

Every single one of the Bats and Birds present, fresh from an interrupted patrol thanks to her, could count the number of times they had seen Harley like this on one hand. Bruce would have the most recollections, but everyone else would have plenty of fingers left on said hand. So they all knew, especially when Bruce willingly pulled down his cowl so he could look Harley in the eye, that this was the start of something they were not likely to forget. And maybe their chances of survival were slim too.

“Harley,” Bruce’s voice was still gruff, seeing as he was still mostly Batman at the moment, but his eyes were soft. “Maybe you should tell us what you need help with first. And sit down. You look exhausted.”

Sure enough, there were dark circles under Harley’s eyes. She let Bruce-man lead her over to one of their debriefing tables and sit her down. She let out a huge sigh, her fingers tangling in her loose blond locks.

“I have a confession, and it isn’t gonna leave this cave, capiche?” The slight return of her accent relieved a little of the tension, but not much. Taking this as their cue, the rest of the bats spread out into their usual seats at the table. Bruce stayed near Harley, keeping a hand on her shoulder in silent support. Harley didn’t continue talking until he gave her a solemn nod in agreement. She gulped— an action that immediately returned the tension.

“... fifteen years ago, back when I was still with Joker, I disappeared off the Gotham scene for a few months. I’m sure a few of you remember,” she looked up, and a couple of the older vigilantes nodded. Really, Jason has still been Robin back then. But the memory stuck out in his head now that he was thinking about it.

“Yeah, you were breaking away from him a little bit, which was weird at the time,” Red Hood mused aloud, arms crossed. “I think you helped us out a couple times and did some of your first team ups with Ivy before you vanished. Then a few months go by and you were back in action with Joker, so we mostly ignored it as you just being you.”

Harley nodded. “Ah, my Ivy’s a lifesaver, even back then. She helped cover up the timeline by keeping me in action for longer than I should’a been without putting me at too much risk.”

“Timeline…” Red Robin spoke up, eyes huge even behind his mask. “You don’t mean—“

“Harley,” Bruce breathed, having also caught on. “You were pregnant?”

The air went still. Harley sniffed, eyes watering even as she smiled.

“Oh yeah. Shouldn’t have been possible, ya know? Me ‘n Joker being dumped in that damn acid should have made us both more sterile than an operatin’ room. But I knew I couldn’t raise a kid, so after she was born—“

“You kept her?” Damian interrupted, earning a gentle cuff over the head from Dick. Harley just snorted.

“Yeah. Not gonna lie, I thought about abortion. But the baby didn’t do nothin’ wrong, and I was still in love with Joker back then so I was ecstatic that I was able to make something new with part ‘a him in it. Still, I knew a baby didn’t deserve to be raised in Gotham. Especially not my baby, not with my enemies and history. Not with who her father was. I knew he’d never want her, never let me keep her. So I spent the last five months of my pregnancy lookin’ around for the best possible family to take her in. And I found them in Paris, France. A sweet couple, both of them bakers. Sabine, she’s both adorably sweet and super kickass. Comes from a Chinese family that is crazy about teachin’ their women martial arts. But nothing shady about it, I triple checked. Just bonding through kicking people in the face. Which is perfect, I wanted my baby to know how to defend herself. I knew she’d need those skills eventually. And Tom, that’s Sabine’s wife, he’s a gentle giant. Same size as Bane, but as harmless as a puppy and makes the best croissants ever. Seriously, the best.”

“Harley,” Bruce gently prodded, but there was a tiny grin on his face. Seeing her behaving so… so normally, so proud and reminiscent, was a rare treat. Bruce would be lying if he said he wasn’t proud of how far the woman had come. How she had freed herself and become a better person, mostly on her own.

“Right, right. The point,” Harley took a breath, rubbing her forehead. “I came clean to Tom and Sabine, but apparently they knew who I was the whole time. They just didn’t care— did I mention they are perfect? Anyway, once I explained everything, they agreed immediately to adopting my baby. They’d been wanting kids, but it would’a been too risky for Sabine’s health. That’s how I found them anyway, they were in the market to adopt. We named her Marinette. She took Tom and Sabine’s last names, hyphenated. We decided Quinn would be her middle name. And after that, I came back to Gotham and told myself that she was in good hands and I needed to forget about her. Cuz I was no good for her. I knew that. I went back to my old tricks. And then…” Harley chuckled, but it was self-depreciating.

“Then a few years passed, and I started breaking away from Joker for real. Then we broke up, I blew up Ace Chemicals while you guys were outta town doing Justice League and Young Justice shit. I started dating Ivy. And—“ she smiled softly at the table, clearly seeing something the rest of them couldn’t. “Then Ivy convinced me to go see her. Visit my baby, see how she’s been. And I did. Marinette was seven years old, but damn it to hell she was gorgeous. And say whatever you want about me and Joker— most of it will even be true— but neither of us are stupid. And she inherited all of our intelligence. All of it. She got my blue eyes. But she got his hair, which meant Sabine teased me relentlessly about ‘are you sure she isn’t that Wayne’s kid?’ And don’t make that face Bruce, you’d be lucky to have a kid half as beautiful as my Mari-pie. No offense, Damian. Anyway. Anyway, this is the important part. Or part of it.

“She sat there and listened to everything I had to say. Everything. A little seven year old, who could barely understand English at the time, and she listened without interrupting once. She never threw a fit, she wasn’t angry or confused. I told her about the things I’d done in the past— well, G rated versions— and she didn’t care. She called me Momma Harley right away, said she wanted to meet Aunt Ivy sometime soon, and started telling me everything about her that I’d missed. From that day on, she became my sunshine. The light of my life, and I still call her at least once a week every week. When I disappear for a few days out of the city? I’m visiting her—“

“You’re banned from international travel, Harley,” Dick scolded, but he sounded way too amused for it to work. He knew she had her ways, anyway. Nobody could actually stop Harley damn Quinn from doing whatever she wanted.

“—Ugh, she tells me the same thing every time! Disappointed glare and everything. I don’t know how I gave birth to such a goodie goodie, but somehow I did. Not important though! The important thing is, I’m always the first to hear when something new happens in her life. And we had decided that she wouldn’t visit me in Gotham until she was at least eighteen, but apparently she disobeyed me— which I should have expected honestly— and entered you guys’ WE international scholastic competition.”

“Oh no,” Bruce pinched the bridge of her nose. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng? The contest winner?” He finally pulled out a chair and sat down. “The winner gets an all-expense paid trip to Gotham for them and their whole class.”

“Exactly!” Harley threw up her hands. “Mari told me last week, and I’ve been trying to talk her out of coming ever since. But she’s inherited both of our stubbornness too, and she isn’t budgin’ a bit. ‘Momma Harley, I wanna see you and Auntie Ivy though!’ And ‘Momma, Gotham’s nothing I can’t handle,’ or my favorite, ‘Maybe you’ll finally get to see me dropkick someone three times my size then, and I’ll prove it.’”

“So that’s what you meant by you need our help,” Tim said as he leaned forward over the table. “Joker just broke out of Arkham yesterday. You want us to protect her.”

“I’d prefer if one of you was with her outside of the mask too, as often as possible,” Harley confirmed. “I can’t stop her from coming here anymore, but I also don’t trust Joker for a second. As soon as he sees her, I’m afraid he’ll make the connection.”

“She looks like him?” Damian asked, scrunching up his nose at the ugly mental image of Joker as a teenage girl. Harley shook her head, solemn.

“She looks like a dark-haired mini-me,” she corrected. “She even keeps her hair in pigtails as her way of showing support for me. And I know Marinette can kick ass, Sabine’s trained her well. But Marinette inherited more than I’d like from me,” Harley ran a hand through her hair. “I didn’t notice it until she was thirteen. She got a crush on a classmate, and it was almost like watching videos of me back during the early days of— well, of Harley Quinn. Just without the crime and insanity. She didn’t even realize that she was almost stalking the poor kid until I pointed it out, and luckily I was able to put my doctorate to good use and we nipped that right in the bud ASAP. She never meant it that way, anyway. As soon as I explained things to her, she was horrified and immediately asked me to help her learn how to have a healthy relationship. That was a fun discussion,” Harley grimaced. “But she still gets attached to people really, really easily. Once she grew out of her crush on that boy, she adopted him as her unofficial brother. She already calls Selina “Auntie,” even though I’ve barely mentioned her to Marinette. She gets attached fast, and deeply. And I’m afraid that even after all the warning I’ve done, all the stories I’ve told her—“

“You’re afraid she’ll get attached to Joker just like you did,” Bruce finished for her, closing his eyes. “Because she knows he’s her father.”

“Yes,” Tears were slowly dripping down her face already, her hands curled into fists so tightly that her knuckles were paper white. “You know how he is. If he finds out she’s his biological daughter, he’ll immediately try to take advantage of that. And he’s far too good with his words for people like me and Mari. I’m worried outta my mind. Please. Help keep my baby safe from him.”

“We will,” Jason no longer had his helmet on, or the domino mask that he usually wore underneath it. All of them knew masks were merely formality with Harley nowadays. And he needed to look her directly in the eye so she could see how serious he was. “I can sign up as a bodyguard for the class. It won’t be weird, seeing as they’re tourists and this is Gotham. They also have several rich kids in their group if I remember right.”

Bruce nodded, agreeing with Jason. “That’s a good idea. I can lead the class on their tours of WE personally. That’ll serve the purpose of keeping an eye on her and shutting up the investors that keep begging me to make more public appearances for the sake of the company. Marinette’s name is already released to the news as the winner of the contest, so we can’t keep her out of the spotlight long. Tim, you’ll have to keep an eye on any and all pictures of the class. Try to erase or doctor the images with her in it well enough that connections between her and Harley can’t be easily made. Dick, you and Damian will be in charge of keeping an eye out for any activity from Joker. The slightest hint, and you notify all of us. We’ll decide on a case-by-case basis who is necessary to stick with the class and who goes after the clown.”

“She’s gonna sneak out of her hotel to stay with me and Ivy,” Harley admitted, bringing the (now slightly judgemental) attention back to her. She raised her hands up in surrender. “She didn’t tell me that, and I didn’t approve or suggest it! I just know my baby too well to not realize that that’s her plan. Could ya provide an escort?”

Bruce sighed. “This is gonna be an eventful month.”

#maribat #ml x dc #mlb x dc #soulmate-game #bio!dad au #bio!mom harley quinn #bio!dad joker #maribat fanfic #maribat fic #platonic Harley x Marinette #platonic Ivy x Marinette #platonic brucinette

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fighterkimburgess · 2 years

Text

Traditions

Summary: On their second daughters birthday, Kim and Adam are embarrassed by Kevin’s gift to them. But it becomes a tradition for all their friends children - a vacuum cleaner on their birthday. AKA the origins of the hoover chronicles in celebration of a year since @kim-ruzek and I first spoke, and w celebration of our first idea we came up with.

Warnings: allusions to smut, nothing explicit.

Words: 1.1k

—

When her best friend arrived to her two year old’s birthday party with an oh too familiar package, Kim Burgess wanted to scream. Once was funny. Watching Adam give Celeste and Kevin one for Nate’s second birthday was hilarious, if awkward explaining the joke.

But that it was now a tradition to give a toy hoover to their kids was going to make Kim scream.

It all started back when they were engaged the first time. Adam had hated doing housework, always convinced that they could put it off. So if he happened to use the vacuum cleaner Kim would…encourage him by wearing less and less clothes as more of whichever apartment they were in was cleaned. And really it was Kevin’s fault for using the key Adam had given him to come in when nobody answered the door, their mutual best friend walking in on Adam on his knees with Kim on the couch.

The realisation that the man who was essentially her brother had seen her get eaten out had haunted Kim for weeks, Kevin’s “never let me know about your sex life” ringing in her ears. And Adam’s failed attempts of “it was cause I hoovered!” didn’t help matters either.

So when she’d brought Ally into the world - after a labour that was so close to going horribly wrong, Kim begging Adam before the c section to look after their baby - the joke from Kevin about the vacuum cleaner was nearly too much. But it made Adam smile as he held their second daughter to his chest, the innuendo going straight over their eldest’s head.

“Nah, Alice Trudy is an innocent child. She’s gonna take after her big sister. Right, Mack?”

“As long as it means she does chores when she’s old enough.” Their ten year old was sassy and grinning as she spoke, sitting up on the bed. Kim was still weak but put her arm around her, fingers running through freshly done braids.

“Aunt Jane do your hair?” She asked, Makayla nodding.

“Yeah I asked her to, I wanted to have pretty hair to meet the baby.” She was quiet for a minute, curling into Kim. “Will she like me, Mom?”

“She’s gonna love you. Want to hold your sister?”

The lost expression on Makayla’s face was one Kim hadn’t seen in almost four years, but she bit her bottom lip and held out her arms.

“How do I hold her?”

Kim lay back and watched as Adam carefully deposited their awake daughter in their eldest’s arms, Mack moving her elbow to support her sister’s head. Ally looked up with big blue eyes, her mouth open and little gurgles leaving her mouth.

“She’s so pretty. She looks like you, Mom.”

“Better your mom than me, kiddo. At least both my girls are gonna be beautiful then.” Adam pressed a kiss to Mack’s forehead, his arm around the two girls. “She’s looking right at you, kiddo. Knows her big sister already. It must be from the shows you did for us.” It made Mack laugh, Kim grinning through the discomfort starting to spread through her. But her boys knew her too well and spotted it immediately. It was a goodbye to her eldest, Mack giving a careful hug to her.

“You’re coming home soon, right?”

“You know I am. Just a couple of days before Ally and I can get home, the doctors want to check it all out. Promise.” A pinky promise convinced her, a quick kiss and they left.

Kim had been convinced that was the only time her method of getting Adam to clean would be mentioned, but Ally’s second birthday had proven otherwise. Kevin and a heavily pregnant Celeste had arrived with smiles and hugs, Celeste immediately getting a hug from her goddaughter.

“Baby?”

“Not yet, Ally-cakes. Soon though.” The toddler sighed, picking up her baby doll and dragging it out of the room.

“She’s baby crazy.”

“Have you told her yet?” Celeste glanced at Kim’s midsection, a shake of the other woman’s head the only response needed.

“Not yet. I was twelve weeks yesterday, and we were worried. Give it a couple of weeks. How’s my nephew?”

“Kicking up a storm. I’m at the “please just get him out” stage.” Kim laughed, watching as Kevin put the large present down.

“What did you get her?” Adam asked, looking at the box.

“Just a little reminder that someone here has to do the vacuuming without any rewards. Maybe this time you’ll do housework for the sake of it. Unless this kid is because of it again, cause then I have to have a talk about the birds and the bees.”

Kim blushed puce, but Adam looked around to make sure there were no little ears.

“I’ll have you know this is our third pregnancy, we’re very aware of how that works. There was no cleaning involved, just a jackass from San Diego making comments about my kids and wife that deserved a punch.”

She watched as the words settled into Kevin, the realisation that only Roman could elicit that reaction from her husband.

“How did you stop him pressing charges?”

“Voight.”

Asking her ex sergeant to stop her husband from ending up with an assault conviction was almost as embarrassing as announcing her first pregnancy to him, but he did what he needed and Roman withdrew the complaint.

When Nate had turned two Adam insisted on the hoover, Kim putting her hands up and letting her husband go insane.

He’d ended up starting a tradition in Intelligence, as soon as one of their kids turned two they got a toy vacuum cleaner. Hailey had asked her what it was about one day, Kim shaking her head that it was a Kevin and Adam thing. The detective just shrugged and left Kim behind the front desk at the 21st, going up the stairs to Intelligence. But when the oldest Halstead turned two, he received the same present.

She’d thought it was only for one child, that they’d give it up now there was one in the house. But when Henry opened it with glee she knew she was in trouble, that this joke was going to be permanent.

Kim couldn’t get annoyed, instead a soft smile on her face as she watched Kevin give Mack an enamel pin with a vacuum cleaner on it, the eldest child of all their kids grinning as she pinned it on before chasing after her little sister and her two best friends, throwing the four year olds into the bounce house with a laugh.

#ree tag #cíara writes #burzek #adam ruzek #kim burgess #kim burgess x adam ruzek #adam ruzek x kim burgess

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capsicle-evans · 3 years

Text

Just for Show

Chris Evans x Reader

Summary: The Evans Christmas Family get together is coming soon and Chris has to come up with a plan as to who he is taking with him

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

“What do you recommend?” I lean in to whisper to Chris, everyone too busy looking at their own menu. “I don’t know what to pick”

“Mmm the chicken parmesan pasta is always a great idea” Chris points at the small picture of the dish. “If you pair it with white wine, it’s the cherry on too”

“Mmm I don’t think I should be ordering wine” I chuckle, placing the menu back on the table. “Wine gets me in a sexy mood”

“Uff, then the more reason to do it” He grins at me, placing a hand over my knee. Oh two can play this game, Evans.

“Maybe tonight” I grin, leaning in closer so that my perfume scent engulfs him. “But I’m warning you, Evans. I can get really messy when wine is involved”

“I can handle messy, Miss Y/L/N” He says this as his hand rises up to my thigh just a little bit.

“Then I’ll make sure to be in my worst behavior” I lean in as slowly as I can, Chris’ eyes so focused on me, his lips barely open. I close the distance between our lips, the kiss a little more hot that what would be considered appropriate for a family lunch but for everyone it can look like a small kiss because I grab Chris’ neck to pull him closer so that he can conceal me for when I grace my tongue over his lips.

When I pull away, Chris’ eyes are so dark and stormy, his chest heaving. “Nobody is watching, Y/N”

“Oops, I guess I forgot” I grin. Chris is about to say something when the waiter interrupts him.

“Can I get your drinks?”

I’m the first one to order so without taking my eyes away from Chris, I tell him what I want. “I’ll have a pinot grigio”

“Do you think you are going to be able to handle yourself?” Chris whispers into my ear while everyone is ordering.

“It’s not myself that I’m worried about, Chris” I sit sideways, trying to face. “After all, you were the one watching me shower”

“But you were the one who left the door opened” He winks at me before turning back to the waiter, leaving me with my mouth wide open.

***

“Yeah, were not going out with you looking like that” Chris stands up from his couch as I reach the first floor, ready to go out with Chris and his siblings.

“Why?” I pout, looking down at my outfit. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing, babe” Scott waves Chris off. “You look hot as fuck”

“Language” Lisa giggles, earning an eye roll from Chris. “No but you do look gorgeous, honey”

“I know! I never said she didn’t” Chris reaches my side and grabs my waist. “But so will the rest of the bar”

“Oh but I only have eyes for you” I bop his nose, knowing that Chris won’t actually force me to change.

“You’ll freeze to death” He counterparts, still trying to fight me.

“I’ll take a coat” I pat his chest before looking around the room. “Where are my girls?”

“Coming” Shanna shouts as she and Carly walk up to us.

“Lets goo” I clap my hands happily as we all get up, ready to leave.

***

I call already feel sweat running down the back of my neck, my whole body buzzing after the four shots of tequila Scott dared me to drink. It’s been so long since I’ve danced like this, so freely and feeling myself.

“Damn Y/N” Scott slaps my ass playfully, earning chuckles from his sisters. “You do know how to move”

“Thanks” I grin but then I roll my eyes. “Well, at least you notice it”

“Is this about my boring brother over there?” He nods his head to the direction where Chris is. He has a glass of whiskey in his hands, the other one on his phone, his eyes not moving away from the screen.

“Yeah, he hasn’t looked at me even for a minute since we got here” I try to not sound as disappointed as I actually feel but based on the look my fake in laws give me, I know that I’m not doing a good job at it.

“No no no, you go there and you force him to look at you, god every man in this bar probably wishes they could be grinding behind you” Shanna tells me, looking back at her brother. “If you don’t go, I’ll do it myself”

“You walk there and make him want you” Scott nods before giving me a soft push towards Chris’ direction.

I try to steady my breath, trying to come up with a plan to seduce Chris without making a fool of myself. I mean, I could blame it on the alcohol just in case, but I rather not have to do it.

When I close enough, without a warning, a grab the phone from his hand and before he has a chance to protest, I step myself in between his legs, sitting down in his lap. “Can you give me back my phone?”

“Nope” I reply, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Can you give me your attention?”

“Why? Is the attention of all the men in this bar not enough?” he scoffs, leaning back and away from me.

“Is that what this is all about? Are you jealous?” I move from his lap to rest both of my knees in the little space between his legs and I place my arms around his neck again, so basically I’m laying on top of him. “You know I don’t care about that, right? I only want your attention”

“You don’t have to lie, Scott and the girls are not close enough to hear you” He rolls his eyes before moving them away from me.

“God you are so stupid” I groan, grabbing his head to bring his focus back to me. I bring my lips up to his mouth, my tongue darting out to get a taste of his mouth. His lips are warm and soft and I can’t help but moan when his tongue meets mine.

Thank god the lighting in this bar is so dark, otherwise people would have seen the entire show Chris and I are putting on. He finally sits up straighter, his hands grabbing the back of my thighs as I dig my hands into his blond mess. I pull his head back by his hair, making him look me in the eyes.

“Chris” I try to speak but I’m so out of breath that it comes out as a moan.

“Fuck” Chris curses, his chest heaving and his hands giving my thighs a hard squeeze that earns him another moan. “We can’t do this”

I’m about to step away from him, feeling rejected when he adds “not here”.

I give him a quick kiss before standing up and stretching my hand to him. “Come dance with me then”

Chris bits his lips, a grin trying to scape, before standing up and grabbing my hand. “Lead the way”

“You know, now that I think about it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dance, Captain” I walk backwards, my hand still in his. “That time at Robert’s house you denied me of such a pleasures”

“It was for your own good” He grins, pulling my arm to stop me on my tracks. “You wouldn’t have been able to keep you hands off me”

“Cocky much?” I roll my eyes, pressing my hands against his chest as his arms circle my waist.

“You know I am, Baby” He winks at me before giving my side a squeeze. “No but all jokes aside, my dance moves suuuck”

“I think I’ll be the judge of that, Cap” I pull him closer to me, keeping my eyes on his. “Now, let’s dance”

***

“MCDONALDS MCDONALDS MCDONALDS” Scott and I chant loudly as Chris, who is sitting between us in the back, rolls his eyes.

“Shanna, we are going to have to stop at McDonalds or they won’t stop” Chris leans forward to pop his head between his sisters. “Y/N alone is a force to be reckoned with but you add Scott to the mixture and it’s worse”

“Fine, I’ll look for one not to far away” Carly pulls out her phone to look for one close as Shanna just laughs.

“You are in for a good one, brother” She giggles as Carly gives her the directions.

We finally reach the restaurant and after ordering from the drive thru, we are back in the road to home.

“Don’t get ice cream on the couch” Chris looks at me sternly as he holds my ice cream cone.

“Or what?” I flash him a grin before leaning in to suck on the ice cream still in his hand.

“Fuck” He breaths out lowly, just for me to hear. “You are killing me, woman”

“Good” I dip my finger into the ice cream before rubbing it on his cheek. “Oops, let me clean that”

I lean in, sticking ny tongue out to seductively lick the sweetness of his cheek. “Better?”

“You two knock it off” Scott fake gags as he takes his eyes away from us.

“Nobody told you to look” Chris waves off his brother before grabbing me by the back of my neck to pull me to his lips.

“Stop it or I will jump of the car”

***

“Goodnight” Chris whispers to his siblings before closing the door to his bedroom.

“Tonight was so much fun” I beam at him, my cheeks still red from the alcohol and the hot kiss Chris gave me on the car.

“You know, I get what you got nominated for an Oscar” Chris chuckles, kicking his shoes off.

“What do you mean?” I frown, popping my head from the bathroom door as I pull up my pijama shorts.

“You and the whole act you put on today” He looks at me as I step back into the room. “I’m sure everyone is convinced we are in love now”

There’s a part in me that instantly breaks, I fell my legs go numb, like my whole body just got thrown down a hill. “Oh, yeah.. the act. I mean that’s what I’m here for after all”

“Thank you” Chris stands up from the edge of the bed to place a kiss on forehead before walking towards his closet to pull out his pillows and blankets.

“No problem” I whisper softly before walking up to the bed and letting the bed spread engulf me.

“Every thing okay?” Chris asks be as I turn my back to him.

“Yup, just tired” I reply, trying hard not to cry right then and there.

“Okay” I hear him say before laying down on his made up bed. God, men are so oblivious. “Good night”

I don’t reply, already feeling the tears in the back of my eyes and my throat drying up.

“Y/N?” Chris asks again when I don’t reply.

I don’t know what happens but suddenly I’m sitting up and facing him. “No, Chris, actually, everything’s not fine because I wasn’t acting and for a second there I thought you weren’t either. For me, pretending to be in love with you stopped being an act a long time ago. Fuck I don’t think it was an act at all. And I know I promised to help you with this little stunt but I feel like if I stay and I keep pretending that this is all fake to me, I’m going to end up so heartbroken beyond repair so I think it would be best if I leave tomorrow morning”

“Y/N”

“Don’t. I don’t need your pity nor an apology or whatever it is that you are going to give me. I know that this isn’t your fault, you made it pretty clear that this was all an act and that you don’t want a relationship right now and I respect that but I also hope you respect my decision to remove myself from this situation before it gets me” I know that I’m crying now, big tears running down my cheeks.

“Can I talk?” Chris asks me from the floor where he is sitting.

“Sorry, yes” I clean my tears with the back of my hands as Chris moves to sit on the edge of the bed, next to me.

“The fact that you think that this was all on act to me is beyond me” Chris brings his hand up to caress my cheek. “I seriously thought I was being so obvious about how you made me feel that I was scared that you were just acting so that’s why I said what I said. I didn’t say it because I wanted it to me an act, a lie, I said it because I was trying to convince myself of it. Because I thought that that’s what it was to you, I didn’t want to make you feel like you had to love me back because I knew it was unfair. I’ve spent the last couple of days fighting this urge to hold you all the time, not just when my parents or my siblings are around”

“Chris, I-”

“I love you, Y/N”

*************************************************

Pleaseee dont hate me!! I had scheduled this to be posted on friday but I think I did it wrong since it didn’t! Sorry!!!

Also, this is not the last part, I’m doing one more so that should be up by friday.

Hope you like this❤️

Tag List: @patzammit @hollandprkr @hauntedmuffinoperarascal @denisemarieangelina @marianas-studyblr @justjulie1105 @itsscottiesstark @phillygirl19 @prettymuchawhore @cevansfics @jennamarieee623 @chrisevanisliterallysir @spookyscot @c00lkidvibes @duskangxls @supraveng @syms-things-5 @sabstrang

#chris evans #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #chris evans fluff

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ethanesimp · 3 years

Text

THE OAK TREE // ZERO E.T.

Pairing: Ethan Torchio x GN! Reader

Summary: Everyone at the Oakes Academy is aware of the rivalry that exists between two of the school’s best students, Ethan Torchio and Y/N L/N. What nobody knows is what a brilliant team they are when they’re at risk of their reputations being damaged and a killer’s on the loose.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Just Ethan and Y/N behaving like children, mentions of killing someone (as a joke), swearing.

Masterlist // Taglist link in bio

TEASER

A/N: This is the first chapter of The Oak Tree! I hope you guys enjoy :) Huge thanks to @night-girl-301 for proofreading this and cheering me on! I was like... scared as shit to post it so yeah.

Taglist (strike means it won’t let me tag you): @oro-e-diamanti @gretavanfleetlove @victoriadeangeliswifey @cheese-toastie-11 @selenophiliaxx @superchrystaldrug @petit-poussin @bidet-and-legolas @fallingforyou123 @ethaneskin @soft-boy-ethan @teenyweenynightghost @reputationdamiano @cantaraiilmionome @tabi-toast @queen-of-brokenhearts @geklutst-ei @juststalking @cruz-ata @ohtorchio @ethan-torchio-angelo @unitermoonshine @everythingisdefinitelynotfine

It was only a few minutes past two-thirty when you managed to open the door that led to the greenhouse. The key, more often than not, would get stuck in the lock, and you’d have to spend a few minutes trying to yank it free, but this time around luck seemed to be on your side.

You placed your large black backpack on the stool that was always by the door before closing the entrance again. Mr. Murphy was still watering the plants, completely oblivious to your presence thanks to the loud music coming from the small stereo he kept near the gardening tools. You tapped his shoulder gently not to startle him; it wouldn’t be the first time you’d come into the place unannounced and you didn’t want to be the reason why he had to walk around with a cast on his arm again.

He smiled fondly at you and adjusted his large glasses that were starting to slide down his nose. Mr. Murphy was an old man with long white hair and kind blue eyes, he’d been in charge of the greenhouse at the Oakes Academy for almost twenty years and had been the first person to show you kindness after you first arrived at the place years back.

“I thought I told you to take the afternoon free, Y/N,” He shook his head disapprovingly and you could only shrug. You had to work at the greenhouse at least three hours a week to maintain your scholarship per the Academy’s rules and it’d been long since it stopped being a task and instead became your favorite part of each day.

“We were let out of Philosophy earlier so I thought I’d come by before I go study. Can I help with anything?” The older man sighed but nodded. He adjusted his glasses once again and wiped the dirt from his jeans.

He pointed at the corner where all the pink anthuriums were kept, shielded from direct sunlight, “Please water those, put a bit of fertilizer on the ones that arrived on Wednesday, and if you’ve got time, can you please feed the worms?”

“Sure thing, anything else?”

“Just those three things. I’ve got to go help unload the groceries so please lock up both doors once you’re done,” He asked with a smile on his face as he buttoned his coat and grabbed his walking cane from where he’d dumped it on the floor right next to him. Back when you’d only known him for a few days, you’d always rushed to his side to pick up his cane and help him, but quickly realized it was a thing that annoyed him because of how independent and stubborn he was. “Oh and, before I forget, the kid’s outside. I don't want to come back and see you two trying to tear each other's heads off."

A laugh escaped past your lips and you shook your head as you tilted your head to the side so you could look through the hole in one of the windows. Just like he’d said, the boy with the long hair was sitting outside by the oak tree reading a book. You looked back at Mr. Murphy and shrugged, "No promises."

"I'm serious. You're smart Y/N, and I'm pretty sure you could easily find something you've got in common. That much hatred isn't good for either of you." Those were Mr. Murphy's last words before he walked out of the room.

You stood by the plants for a few minutes as you played around with the headphones that hung around your neck. You’d already sort of been startled by the topic you’d seen during Philosophy that day and you hoped that being at the greenhouse would serve as a little distraction but Mr. Murphy’s words hadn’t helped much.

You huffed and looked around for the hose to water the pretty anthuriums to get your mind off of everything that had gone down that day.

Hours later, you were still unable to shake Mr. Murphy’s words off. It wasn’t the first time he’d insisted on voicing his thoughts against that rivalry you had going on with the person standing between you and your biggest dream coming true. The thing that pissed you off though, was that his words had reminded you of what your best friend, Rory, had told you just the previous night while you did your usual hate rant. According to them, it was a good way to destress yourself.

You scoffed at the thought alone and let your chin rest on your palm as a frown appeared on your forehead. There was not a thing you could name that made you even remotely similar to the person sitting only a few feet away from you at the quiet school library. Ethan Torchio, a.k.a. Your archnemesis, the person you disliked the most in the face of the earth, was biting on the tip of his pencil as he concentrated hard on the thin black book he was holding up. Those dark eyes that shone honey whenever light hit them just right and those long strands of hair that graciously fell down his back accompanied by his signature turtlenecks and pretty smile were enough to make someone’s knees weak, but they only made you gag.

You were sure he felt your eyes bore holes into the dark depths of his soul because it didn’t take long for him to look over his shoulder and meet your stare. Ethan smirked and his eyebrows shot up as he sent you a wink and a small wave. You knew that expression of his, he was teasing you, riling you up, hell, maybe he was trying to intimidate you. As crazy —and maybe a bit pathetic— as it made you sound, a simple smirk wasn’t just that when it came to him, never had been. Those dark eyes of his communicated his devilish intentions to you while he looked like an innocent child who’d never break a plate to anyone else.

You held his stare and mirrored his expression, which made him chuckle softly. It was nothing more than a silly game you’d play with one another to see who’d get tired of it first. The stare-off didn’t last too long that time around because his attention was stolen by one of his friends, Thomas. You simply shrugged and went back annotating on your copy of the black book. It was nothing more than one of those books written for the sole purpose of boring people to death. You loved reading, but when it came to those school-issued books that took around three pages to describe the sky-blue sofas in the main character’s living room, you couldn’t read more than a few pages before wanting to aggressively chuck it out the window.

In a desperate attempt to distract yourself from the book that did nothing other than make you feel miserable, you stood up. You walked over to the large window that went from floor to ceiling. To your delight, the curtains were drawn back, which allowed sunlight to illuminate the otherwise dark library with its beautiful hues of orange and yellow. The librarian was a grumpy woman that loved when the curtains covered all the windows and blocked any source of light that wasn’t the soft glow of the lamps placed all over the dark room. You were almost convinced this woman had never felt the warmth of the sun against her pale and ashy skin, sometimes you even thought of her as a vampire that’d burn to death if she dared to stand outside for a few minutes.

You looked out the window and admired the green gardens that adorned the front yard of the Academy’s largest building. The Oakes Academy was old and had been around since 1057. However, unlike most ancient schools like this one, the school board hadn’t been too interested in renovating the place outside of simply reinforcing the structure enough to fulfill the basic safety guidelines and the installation of optical fiber wires for a better internet connection. Even then, it was still considered to be one of the most prestigious schools to study at, and if it hadn’t been for the generous scholarship you were offered, you wouldn’t have been able to afford it anyway.

“Still plotting that little plan of yours to end the human race?” You bit down on your bottom lip to stop the colorful curse words from spilling as you turned sideways to look at Ethan. He’d decided to wear one of those annoyingly tight black turtlenecks of his and a pair of plaid trousers that made him look taller than he already was.

“Yes, and I’ll start with you first,” You smiled sarcastically at him, “In fact, I’ll swing by your dorm and murder you in your sleep,” You added while you choked the air for dramatic effect.

Ethan laughed and rolled his eyes. He had that spark of hate in his eyes that was always present when he was talking to you. That look alone told you that all that hatred and disgust you felt towards him was returned in the same magnitude. This rivalry of yours that consisted of dirty looks and constant arguments had been going on since eighth grade and it just seemed to get progressively worse as graduation approached.

Everyone at Oakes knew how much Ethan and you despised each other, it wasn’t a secret. Even the Head Professor had been a witness of plenty of your many petty fights and you didn’t doubt that the people in charge of the Student Welfare department were sick of the many reports you’d filed against each other for breaking the ‘student rules of politeness’. No one remotely important cared much about your reports anyways because they were far from serious and, more often than not, childish.

“How cute. Although I don’t think that’d work too well for you, would it amore? If something were to happen to me they’d know it was you,” He commented. You shrugged and bit your lip in anger at the nickname he knew very well you detested.

You casually leaned against the window, “Meh, it’d be worth it if I knew I wouldn’t have to see your face again. Now please get away before someone starts getting the sick idea that we’re friends.”

Ethan rolled his eyes but backed up a few steps either way, “God forbid someone would think such a horrific thing," He scoffed and raised his hand only to show you his middle finger when he knew the librarian wasn’t looking.

Before either of you could utter out another word, Damiano, one of Ethan’s closest friends, walked up to where you two were standing, effectively ending the conversation between you.

He waved at you and offered you a kind smile, which you immediately returned. Unlike his best friend, Damiano was a delight to be around. He was one of the kindest and nicest people you had ever met. You were quite close thanks to the fact that he’d been dating Rory for a while and you got used to spending long nights with the two of them doing silly things like playing board games or watching films. You were basically their third wheel, but neither of you minded much, if at all.

“Hey, what’s up?” Damiano smacked Ethan on the shoulder as he started a conversation with him. You took it as your chance to leave and just awkwardly walked away after mumbling something about having to find Rory. They had told you something about eating dinner together, and while you’d initially refused because you were supposed to finish the book and start on your report, you were tempted to accept their offer and forget about the stupid book for a little bit more.

Just as you were about to leave the library, your phone vibrated inside the pocket of your warm cardigan. You took it out and chuckled when you read Rory’s message about their new phone but groaned when you realized they wanted to see you after curfew. You sighed and left the library as you tried to think of a great excuse to tell your roommate Emilia so she’d cover for you while you snuck out.

Ethan had his eyes focused on your figure as you left the library but turned back to look at Damiano when he spoke up, “If you’d only talk to them Ethan, I-” He sighed and interrupted his best friend, already irritated by the conversation he’d had with you.

“No, I will not talk to them, okay? Not like we can even talk because we start arguing like two toddlers,” Ethan mumbled out the last part and took a deep breath in. Truth be told, no part of him wanted to talk to you. You were annoying, rude, and didn’t seem to have more than one brain cell in his eyes, so why lose his time talking to you? Not like there’d be anything to talk about.

“They’re just so exasperating!” He spoke up and Damiano rolled his eyes as he saw his hate rant start approaching. They were both aware that once he started, he wouldn’t be able to stop, “I just- They try so hard and it’s annoying. Like I swear they’re also a huge hypocrite. I know you don’t see it but I do, I’ve never met anyone mo-”

Before he could end his last sentence, he felt a body slam into his and arms snake around his waist. Ethan huffed at the impact but wrapped his arms around her frame once he noticed it was Adeline Rossi, or Addie as everyone liked to call her.

She pulled back and looked at both Damiano and Ethan excitedly, “You will never believe this but the craziest thing just happened… Hey, where’s Vic?” She trailed off as she started looking around for her friend.

Ethan chuckled lightly when he saw Thomas quietly approach Addie while she was distracted. They all knew she was the easiest person to scare, so it didn’t take more than a slight push and a soft boo for her green eyes to go wide and for her to jump. She was quick to turn to where Thomas was standing and didn’t think twice before smacking his shoulder with the heavy book she was carrying.

Thomas put his hands up in defeat as he took a step back and rubbed his shoulder, “Okay, okay shit. Stop, that actually hurts,” He whined and Addie only shrugged as Damiano and Ethan watched the whole interaction with amusement.

“Right, so, ignoring all that,” Addie spoke up once again and shifted her attention back to Ethan, “Since she is nowhere to be seen, could you please help me with some stuff? It’s just this little interview for one class of mine and I’ve already interviewed Damià and Thomas but I need just one more.”

He nodded and said a quick goodbye to his two best friends before following the shorter girl out of the library. However, while he was walking, he felt his phone vibrate inside the pocket of his jeans. He fished it out and frowned as he read the text that had just been sent to him but laughed once he noticed it was only his girlfriend Emilia from her new phone.

Then he sighed and rolled his eyes once he realized she wanted to see him past curfew again and he knew Will would ask him for money in exchange for not ratting him out. He quickly texted her back and slipped his phone back into his pocket as he followed Addie to her dorm.

GOOGLE DRIVE

#ethan torchio x reader #ethan torchio fanfiction #ethan torchio x you #ethan torchio x y/n #maneskin x reader #maneskin fanfiction

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ibijau · 3 years

Text

Futures Past pt 20 / on AO3

(posting early this week because I might not have time tomorrow)(also, because of the upcoming xisang week, I’m not sure yet if I’ll update this fic next week)

With some help from Su She, Nie Huaisang gets his wangxian ship sailing.

Nie Huaisang guiltily twisted his hands as they left the classroom, already half crying as Wei Wuxian finished retelling his first day of punishment with Lan Wangji.

"I really am so sorry, Wei-xiong!" he lamented. "I really wish I could help you. Maybe if I could find a way to copy part of the rules for you and pass them to you…"

"Lan er-gongzi would surely notice," Meng Yao softly objected. "And then you'd both be punished again."

"Aren't you busy enough with your own punishment anyway?" Jiang Cheng huffed. "You'll be lucky if you can even attend your music lessons with all that extra homework you were given, right?"

With a miserable sigh, Nie Huaisang nodded. Cheating was more work than he'd thought, and he'd have to find a better way to do it if he were to pass that year. Though really, it had been Lan Wangji’s fault for joining the lectures, which he hadn't done the previous year, and also Wei Wuxian's for taunting Lan Wangji by looking at him. Of course Lan Wangji had gotten curious, and he'd noticed the cheating, and…

For some reason, Lan Qiren had decided that Wei Wuxian was the instigator in this business, so he'd been punished the hardest. But Nie Huaisang had been given a lot of essays to write, and he didn't dare to ask Lan Xichen to help, fearing to be scolded for his dishonesty. Meng Yao and Jiang Cheng, who hadn't cheated at all, offered little sympathy and even less help, the first because he was still catching up, the second because he didn't feel like it. Hopefully Su She might give a hand, if Nie Huaisang cried a little.

"It's really not so bad," Wei Wuxian said carelessly. "I won't say that first afternoon in the library with Lan Zhan was fun, he's even more boring than his uncle, but I think I can entertain myself. I bet before the month is over, I can get him to break his self control. Now that'd be fun!"

Nie Huaisang stopped on his tracks and grabbed him by the arm, not a trace of tears in his eyes.

"Wei-xiong, why do you have to antagonise him so much?"

"Why wouldn't I? I'd like to be his friend, but he's too stuck up. Pissing him off is the next best thing."

Baffled by that logic, Nie Huaisang looked at their two friends. Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes, while Meng Yao was trying his best not to smile.

"Wei gongzi is like that, don't question it too much. He likes to tease people, and thinks everyone understands it's meant in a friendly manner."

Judging by the tone of his voice, Meng Yao himself had been a victim of that friendly teasing, and that perhap it hadn't gone so smoothly between them. That would explain why Meng Yao seemed to prefer Jiang Cheng's company, who was less fun to have around, but also a little quieter when he wasn’t shouting at Wei Wuxian.

Personally, Nie Huaisang preferred Wei Wuxian out of the three, but was getting a little annoyed at him right at that moment.

While Jiang Cheng and Meng Yao went their way to enjoy their freedom for the rest of the day (they would waste it studying, they seemed the type), Nie Huaisang decided to accompany Wei Wuxian all the way to the library, so they could chat a little. He still had a plan to put in motion, orders from his future self to obey, and his own natural desire for fun to satisfy.

“I don’t understand why you’re like that with Lan Wangji,” Nie Huaisang said as they took the longest path possible toward the library, trying to keep his tone casual. "If you want to be his friend, there are better ways. Why don't you talk to him nicely?"

Wei Wuxian did not even hesitate. "I've tried, and he ignores me."

That was sadly true, as Nie Huaisang had seen a few times. It didn’t help that Wei Wuxian naturally sounded like he was trying to tease people, even when he was sincere. He was so fun to have around that most people didn’t mind it, but for someone like Lan Wangji...

"Well maybe if you apologised to him?" Nie Huaisang suggested.

"I've tried that too, but he thinks I'm insincere.”

"Because you are!" Nie Huaisang pointed out, fighting a smile.

Wei Wuxian just laughed, but that was an answer in itself.

"Please, at least don't make him any angrier," Nie Huaisang pleaded. "He'll never be your friend otherwise!"

Hearing him get so distressed about that, Wei Wuxian stopped in his tracks, his expression more serious than Nie Huaisang had ever seen so far. He was a little scary like that, something about his height and the shape of his eyes making him look cold and distant when he wasn’t grinning and laughing.

"Listen, Nie-xiong,” Wei Wuxian said in a voice that had lost some of its warmth. “I want to be his friend, sure. I think there's something interesting about him, definitely. I’d really like it if I could be close to Lan Zhan, and given the chance I’ll do it for sure. But if he only becomes friends with me because I start acting like someone I'm not, then we're not really friends, and it's not worth the effort."

“Wei-xiong, I didn’t expect you to be wise like that,” Nie Huaisang whispered, a little awed.

“Only you would find that wise,” Wei Wuxian mocked, and Nie Huaisang found that he could breathe a little more easily now that the other boy was laughing again. “If Jiang Cheng heard me, he’d say that my personality is too awful for anyone to like me! And Meng Yao would say something about compromises. I’m pretty sure they’re the wise ones, but I just don’t feel like acting so seriously.”

Nie Huaisang grinned, a little envious of such a bold way of living. He was not always likeable, according to a lot of people (himself included, when it came to the man he was supposed to become), and so he would never have expected people to fully like him as he was. Nobody except his brother, who had little choice in the matter, and maybe Su She who probably felt like he couldn’t be too picky when it came to friends, and… well, Lan Xichen seemed to like him as he was, too, but that was just because he was so nice.

It was so bold of Wei Wuxian to expect to be fully accepted as he was. But then again, Lan Wangji also wasn’t the sort to make efforts to get others to like him, so at least they had that in common.

As they arrived near the library, the topic had to be dropped. Wei Wuxian, with a grimace of fake agony, went inside to sit with Lan Wangji, while Nie Huaisang had the pleasant surprise of finding Su She about to leave the library, and free to spend some time with him. Lan Wangji had asked for his help to put some order in a section of the building while waiting for Wei Wuxian to arrive, and Su She couldn’t decide if he was flattered or annoyed that the request had been made to him rather than another disciple.

Su She ranted about that for a little bit as they walked away from the library, before complaining about his classes, and then about a letter from his mother who wanted him to send home some talismans because she was still convinced their house was haunted even thought he’d visited during winter and hadn’t noticed anything amiss. Nie Huaisang listened, and even reacted here and there, but couldn’t quite focus on his friend’s problem that day. Su She noticed of course, and asked what hung so heavy on his mind that he couldn’t even laugh at his description of a clearly fake haunting.

“I might have a silly question to ask you,” Nie Huaisang replied. “But please, don’t make fun of me for it. It’s kind of important, and I think you could really help me.”

“That sounds very worrying, but fine, ask me.”

"How would one seduce a Lan?"

Su She gave him such a long, serious look, that Nie Huaisang started feeling he’d rather have been laughed at after all.

"So you're finally doing something about Lan gongzi?” Su She asked. “About time, it was getting annoying how clueless you are. And, well, if you want my opinion…"

"Oh, no, this is about Lan Wangji, not Xichen-gege!"

Su She stopped walking and fell silent for a moment, his expression turning complicated. He looked as if he’d eaten a very sour lemon that also happened to be moldy, all while there was a cut in his mouth.

"Lan er-gongzi? Really?"

"Yes. See, I think Wei-xiong and him could be good friends,” Nie Huaisang quickly explained, startled by that strong reaction, “so of course I want to help. But they're the two most difficult people in the world, you know? Xichen-gege is helping, but a second opinion never hurts."

"Ah, it's just that," Su She said, instantly relaxing.

He resumed walking away from the library, and Nie Huaisang followed.

"Well, yeah. Why did you think I needed help about Xichen-gege?"

Su She hesitated, and even opened his mouth a few times to say something. Eventually he frowned and shrugged.

"If you're too stupid, it's not my problem,” he said. “Let's talk about those other two instead, since you’re so preoccupied. Aside from being equally good at fighting, what do they have in common?"

Nie Huaisang crossed his arms on his chest and shook his head.

"Nothing at all."

Su She nodded.

"Then I guess they need to fight again. Maybe in public."

"You think that'd help if they had an audience?" Nie Huaisang wondered.

"No idea,” Su She said with a wicked grin, “but I'd like to see Lan er-gongzi in a fight that makes him break a sweat."

Nie Huaisang poked him in the ribs.

"Mean. But… Wei-xiong can be pretty full of himself,” he admitted. “I guess I'd also like to see if he's as good as he thinks. How to get them to fight though?"

They’d reached a more isolated part of the Cloud Recesses, a small garden that rarely saw much use, just at the border to the wilderness. They found a bench, and after removing some dead leaves they sat there to continue chatting in peace.

"In two days, you get a day off from lectures, right?” Su She asked. “Get your Wei-xiong to the training grounds after lunch. Lan er-gongzi is always there at that time on a free day, and I'll do my best to be as well. It'll be pretty easy to get them to spar."

"Su-xiong you're just the best!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed, hugging his friend who barely even grumbled against such effusions. “What would I do without you?"

"You'd be less efficient for sure. Now can we talk about something less boring than Lan er-gongzi?”

“Yes, yes! Tell me more about your parents’ haunting, I’ll really listen now! If it’s not a ghost, then what is it?”

Pleased to return to a more fun subject, Su She started discussing his theory about some wild cats and a few squirrels that he suspected to have found their way into the currently disused ‘haunted’ room, and talked about it with such indignation that Nie Huaisang was soon in tears from how hard he laughed.

Although nobody had been warned of the duel to come, a small crowd had quickly assembled around the training grounds once it became understood that Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian were having a friendly fight. They were both reputed to be insanely skilled after all, and rumours about their first duel under the moonlight had spread fast.

So far, Nie Huaisang had to admit that both boy's reputation was deserved. If anything, they were both more talented than he would have expected. They exchanged blows and parried them as if it were easier than breathing, making for a beautiful show. Su She, who stood on Nie Huaisang's right at the very edge of the training grounds, appeared consumed with admiration and envy. He'd fallen silent a while ago, and perhaps regretted this fight he'd helped organise.

On Nie Huaisang's left, Jin Zixuan was almost as upset, just a little better at concealing it.

"I can't believe such talent has been wasted and given to the world's most obnoxious person," he complained as Wei Wuxian dodged a blow.

"Apparently, that's also Lan Wangji’s opinion," Nie Huaisang cheerfully replied. "But I think he's warming up to Wei-xiong now."

Lan Wangji, after a moment of surprise at the way Wei Wuxian had avoided his attack, lunged at him again with renewed vigour.

"Yes, I can see they're on their way to becoming best friends," Jin Zixuan sneered. "Well, that's getting boring. I was hoping to see Wei Wuxian put in his place, but now he's just going to be more insufferable. I'll see you later, Nie gongzi."

He left, but the spot next to Nie Huaisang didn't remain empty for very long. Lan Xichen quickly made his way there. Nie Huaisang immediately smiled at him, but unlike the rest of them, Lan Xichen didn't appear to pleased by the show.

"Huaisang what's going on here?" he asked. "What are they fighting about? Did something happen?"

"Oh they're just fighting for the sake of it!" Nie Huaisang cheerfully explained, only for Lan Xichen to look even more distressed.

"Wangji got into a fight without reason? How?"

Alerted by his tone, Su She tore his eyes from the fight and gave Lan Xichen a quick bow.

"Lan gongzi needs not worry. They're not actually fighting, this is only a friendly spar."

"Yes, we thought it'd be good for them, so we made it happen," Nie Huaisang confirmed. “I think it’s going great! Wei-xiong looks like he’s having the time of his life!”

Reassured that no rules were broken and no serious harm was intended by either party, Lan Xichen finally properly looked at the ongoing duel. He observed the two fighters for a moment before eventually nodding.

“Wangji too is enjoying this,” he said after some consideration. “I’m glad for him. It is so rare for him to get an opponent of his level. Other juniors are rarely a match, and adults won’t spar with him because they don’t want to lose to someone so young. You had a good idea, Huaisang.”

“Oh, that wasn’t even my idea,” Nie Huaisang replied, beaming. “It was Su-xiong who suggested it, and who asked to see them spar.”

Lan Xichen turned his attention to Su She, who appeared a little uncomfortable. Nie Huaisang realised, a little late, that scheming to make people fight, even in a friendly manner, was probably against some of Gusu Lan rules.

“I am glad you have such a good friend helping you set your plan in motion,” Lan Xichen said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Still, don’t drag him into too much mischief. I would be very disappointed in you, Huaisang, if you caused Su-shidi to get in trouble. He’s worked so hard to prove himself to our teachers, let’s not ruin his efforts just because you like to have a little too much fun.”

“Of course not!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed. “Su-xiong, you wouldn’t let me cause you real problems, right?”

“I only agree with Nie gongzi’s ideas if they don’t contradict the rules,” Su She confirmed, bowing again toward Lan Xichen. “And I wouldn’t let Nie gongzi do anything dangerous or ill-advised. Lan gongzi can be at peace, I won’t let anything happen to his friend.”

Lan Xichen smiled stiffly.

"I know I can trust Su-shidi to take good care of Nie gongzi. I am… quite happy to leave him in your hands, where I know he'll be safe."

It was a rather odd way to say that, and there was something a little too cold in Lan Xichen’s tone which did not quite please Nie Huaisang. But Su She himself seemed unbothered, so this might just have been Nie Huaisang imagining things. It was probably just that Lan Xichen still remained doubtful regarding Lan Wangji’s potential friendship with Wei Wuxian, which had to affect his mood.

But things really were going quite well. In fact, they were going much better than Nie Huaisang had hoped. After fighting a little more, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian eventually stopped when a Lan teacher approached them to explain that he needed the training grounds for his own class. There didn’t appear to be a clear winner between them, as far as Nie Huaisang could say. Later, when he asked Su She, his friend gave his more expert opinion that although they had completely different fighting styles, they were equals in strength and capacity. It would be interesting, he said, to see them fight side by side instead of against each other.

For now though, they politely bowed to each other, and Wei Wuxian, grinning more brightly than Nie Huaisang had ever seen him yet, asked if they might train together again in the future.

It was quite funny to see Lan Wangji’s conflicted expression. On one hand, Wei Wuxian was nearly a criminal in his eyes, who had disrespected his uncle, broken many rules, and cheated during an exam, all of which was unforgivable and marked Wei Wuxian as beneath his consideration. But at the same time, this looked to have been a very fun sparring session, Lan Wangji had been forced to use all his skill to keep up with his opponent, and that was something too precious to be easily dismissed.

At a loss, Lan Wangji turned to look at his brother, hoping for guidance. Lan Xichen, in turn, only briefly glanced at Nie Huaisang before nodding at his brother with an encouraging smile.

“Behave in class,” Lan Wangji ordered with a slight frown, before turning away.

Wei Wuxian looked disappointed by what he must have mistaken for rejection, but Nie Huaisang saw that answer for what it was and ran to his friend to explain that Lan Wangji had, in fact, very warmly agreed to fight him again.

#xisang #nie huaisang #lan xichen #double time travel #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes

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shatouto · 3 years

Text

another sequel to @obiwanobi's ex-sith anakin au (here and here), and at this rate… yea. yea we’re gonna have to archive this on ao3 (soon)

anyway here’s 2.8k words of tonal inconsistency

et si les étoiles sont cachées

Obi-Wan barely sleeps a wink through the night. His mind turns and whirls as he battles between second-guessing his decisions regarding the former Sith sleeping in his bed and planning on what to do going forward. Anakin knows how to cloak his own signature well enough, that much Obi-Wan can observe, but he will not stand a chance if Masters such as Yoda or Windu search his presence. And then there is the matter of the elusive Darth Sidious’ death, as well - Obi-Wan can only assume that it would be classified information on the Confederacy side, but even then, the Force only knows what kind of hell would break loose once his body is discovered. It doesn’t help that he could barely pull his hand out of Anakin’s without him frowning in his sleep and stirring. He simply has to stay put, with Anakin’s very likely feverish body pressed up against his side in a bed that is only snugly enough for two.

In meditating all of those scenarios, he forgets to account for the hell that breaks loose in his own quarters upon the return of his apprentice.

“Master, what were you thinking?” Ahsoka hisses, eyes darting from him to the closed door of his bedroom, from where the sound of Anakin’s pacing is obvious. Her hand is still clutching one of her lightsabers, alert.

“He was an injured man who crawled to my doorstep for aid, young one.” Obi-Wan sighs. “Surely you cannot expect me to simply turn my back to him, can you? That wouldn’t be the Jedi way.”

“Yes, but…” Ahsoka pinches her own forehead, shoulders dropping in a harsh exhale. “He’s a Sith lord, Master. We’ve all seen what he has done and can do!”

“He was a Sith, Ahsoka. Leading him back to the Light means one less darksider for the galaxy, and no more lives lost. I have always been trying to accomplish this.” Obi-Wan realizes, all of a sudden, that he is trying to convince himself rather than his apprentice. “He came in a moment of need, with nowhere else to go. He no longer wants to remain with the Dark.”

Ahsoka blinks. “And you just trust him? Just like that?”

Well, Obi-Wan wants to say, you didn’t see him on his knees in the hallway with blood covering half his body and bruises the other half; and you didn’t see him hang his head as you took his lightsaber and then his ruined arm off before setting him to bed. Then again, nobody would ever see that: the exact devastation and distress the once-Darth Vader was in last night, at his door. “That is the case, Ahsoka. I would like to trust him, for the time being.”

Ahsoka grumbles something about tried to kill me earlier, didn’t you see that? which of course inspires a twinge of guilt in Obi-Wan - because indeed, this borders on being a foolhardy venture, that his Padawan is dragged into solely by virtue of her sharing quarters with him. She shakes her head and speaks clearly again for him to hear. “...Fine, I get it. Where do you even plan to house him, Master?”

Obi-Wan pauses. He has had plenty of time in the night to consider this, and still he cannot find any better solution than the one he is about to suggest. “I suppose there is no place safer than here.”

“Here? You mean as in, your own quarters, in the Jedi Temple?” Ahsoka stresses on the last few words, incredulous.

Something crashes inside his room, followed by Anakin’s muffled curse. Obi-Wan looks his apprentice dead in the eye as he lets out a sigh, and says, “Yes.”

—

Anakin is strangely good at cooking.

Obi-Wan supposes he shouldn’t have presumed; after all, being a Sith apprentice should probably not interfere with the more mundane aspects of life. But not only is Anakin’s cooking distinctly above average (how did he learn enough skills to make a three-course meal out of the few basic ingredients in Obi-Wan’s pantry, and at what cost?), he also seems to undertake the task with zeal. It’s rather endearing to watch him shuffle around the kitchenette in warm beige pants that barely reach his ankles, and a left sleeve that doesn't need to be rolled up because it's already too short for his long arm.

It’s been less than a week since Anakin first comes to his door. He clearly doesn't like Ahsoka, but with one arm and no lightsaber and Obi-Wan firmly telling him to behave, he eventually, and clearly grudgingly, tolerates her presence, from time to time. The gleam in his eyes is still worrying, from time to time, but the most Anakin does nowadays when Ahsoka passes by is turn his back to her. He seems to be trying his best, which is why Obi-Wan feels immensely guilty for having to preface their meal with a rather somber question.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, as Anakin sets down before him a plate of steak that smells nearly the same as that one luxurious dish he once had while in disguise as a socialite at a prestigious fine dining party. It isn’t the materiality that is distracting, but the efforts that must have gone into it. “I would like to ask you a question.”

Anakin sits down opposite of him, balancing himself. Even with the Force, he’s unused to not having a weight elbow-down on his right hand. “What? Leftover is in the kitchen for your apprentice. If she wants it.” His voice still sharpens at your apprentice, defensive. “I didn’t mean to let her starve.”

Obi-Wan is torn between a smile and a grimace. “No, that isn’t my question, Anakin. I’ve been wondering if you knew of your allies’ plans.”

“What kind of plans?” Anakin’s eyes narrow, warily. “It depends. Dooku knew most. I just did battlefield strategy.”

“You don’t happen to know if there has been recent plans to assassinate the Supreme Chancellor, do you?” It has been on Obi-Wan’s mind ever since he was summoned to an urgent Council meeting days ago. Investigative teams reported that the Supreme Chancellor has gone missing; then midway through the meeting, another report came, and so they ended up discussing how to keep peace while the Senate would break the staggering news of the Supreme Chancellor’s death to the entire galaxy and organize an emergency election. The timing fit too well with Anakin’s arrival, and he doesn’t know what to make of it.

“Oh, there’s never any.” Anakin shrugs, tension melting out of his shoulder. He begins to cut into his steak without a care.

Obi-Wan frowns. There has been plenty of attempted assassinations before, as well as kidnapping - he himself has been sent to protect the Chancellor on many occasions. He’s loath to contradict Anakin, though, so he asks, carefully: “And you are sure?”

“I’m sure,” Anakin says, swallowing a mouthful. “My mas—Darth Sidious, is Palpatine.”

It takes Obi-Wan a stunned moment, while Anakin just continues to eat.

Well, the Council had their suspicions, but it was never so direct. Some have speculated, very privately, that the Chancellor might be linked to a darksider in some way. Perhaps somebody who is in opposition to Count Dooku, another Master has raised. But for the Chancellor *himself* to be this elusive, mysterious Darth Sidious, seems downright unfathomable.

“You…” Obi-Wan pauses, rewording the sentence in his mind for the seventh time. “I would like you to be serious, Anakin. That was not a joke, was it?”

Anakin, unsmiling, turns his eyes up to him with a look of confusion as if saying What’s a joke? “Darth Sidious is Palpatine,” he repeats. “I’m not allowed—I was not allowed to call him that, though.”

Obi-Wan takes a deep breath. The timing does line up far too well. “Anakin, that means you have... disposed of the Supreme Chancellor.”

Anakin scoffs, scrunches up his nose, and shrugs again. “If you put it that way,” he mutters, slouching down even lower as he pointedly eats his food.

Obi-Wan opens his mouth, then closes it again. He sighs at the ceiling, and picks up his fork and knife. Might as well enjoy a good meal before the migraine sets in.

—

To his own amazement, Obi-Wan is getting used to the way Anakin follows him around like a hatchling, whenever he is home.

During the first few days, it took Obi-Wan a considerable amount of patient explanation to convince Anakin not to sit on the floor at the foot of the door frame until he came back. His reasons ranged from “It’s rather undignified for you” (to which Anakin said, “I’ve done worse,” at which point Obi-Wan had to switch subjects immediately, putting a pin in it for future unpacking), to “You might catch a cold, sitting here for so long” (to which Anakin answered, “It’ll go away on its own,” which prompted Obi-Wan to check his temperature immediately, only to realize that Anakin had been cloaking his fever for at least a day, and - well, that was another pin on the board). In the end, it was only the allowance for him to use the kitchenette that kept the former Sith from waiting at the door like a hound, rather busying himself at the stove instead. It was a great decision through and through, considering how much Anakin improved the quality of their meals.

But otherwise, Anakin still makes no secret of his immediate attachment to him. Perhaps there should be no surprise in that, considering the sort of upbringing he must have suffered through; not that Obi-Wan knows much of it anyway, considering how quiet Anakin remains and how reluctant he himself is to ask personal questions. Nevertheless, from the way Anakin acted - finding his way into the Jedi Temple and declaring his trust to a sworn enemy rather than relying on his own Sith allies - it isn’t hard to infer that this man has had precious little reason to put his trust into anybody in his surroundings. It also aligns with the Sith ways, Obi-Wan speculates - and could only dare speculate, because truth be told he does not know all that much of the Sith outside of his research on ancient texts. Contemporary Sith are few. The Master might just make his own rules, and Darth Sidious - the Supreme Chancellor, Force have mercy - seemed like the type to play cruel games. So he has every reason to understand and empathize. And he truly does extend his most heartfelt compassion to this wayward Force-wielder.

That doesn’t make it any easier to deal with Anakin’s irritability whenever Obi-Wan comes back from a mission.

He’s clearly unhappy about Obi-Wan being away, especially if he discovers that the mission has been with Ahsoka. He only grows more upset and quick-tempered as time goes by; it begins with him upturning the decorative datapad shelves in the living room, escalating to a series of broken glasses and plates in the kitchenette; finally one day Obi-Wan comes back home to knives lodged in the wall, Anakin in the midst of pulling them out.

Anakin has the decency to look sheepish, even just slightly, as he silently puts away all the knives and hides himself in the kitchen completely. He cleans up, at least. In fact, he was almost always in the middle of cleaning up when Obi-Wan caught him in the act, which prompts the question: How many other times has he done this while left alone?

Obi-Wan only sighs. It does border on cruelty to keep somebody alone in these cramped quarters for weeks on end. He also knows that whatever measures he has set up to keep Anakin safe here - from the world, and from Anakin himself, - it would be a fatal oversight to underestimate the ability of a former Sith. He has no doubts that Anakin, even while one-handed and saber-less, could escape if he truly wanted to. The fact that Anakin willingly keeps himself stowed away in a Jedi’s quarters while desperately and entertaining himself through destructive means only to then be embarrassed about it… is a testament to some budding virtue, Obi-Wan supposes. And it only intensifies his guilt: it’s as if he’s taking advantage of Anakin’s trust to confine him to solitude, while he himself pushes back and back the kind of work a true mentor would need to engage in to help Anakin. The fact that he is fighting a war, or whatever is left of it, is no excuse.

It is with resolution that he stands up and heads into the kitchen. Their eyes meet as soon as he steps in; clearly enough, Anakin has been watching him. Anakin’s fingers grip the counter, knuckles blanched. Obi-Wan holds up his hands, moving as slowly and unpredictably as possible, and cuts to the chase.

“I was wondering if you’d like to go outside, Anakin.”

Anakin’s brows shoot up, but he still doesn’t unclench his jaws.

“I believe it’s rather unfair to keep you locked inside,” Obi-Wan explains. “After all, cooking can only do so much to spend all of one’s pent up energy.” He gives a small, gentle smile, inwardly anxious because of the way Anakin still looks at him with his guards up, shoulders squared, halfway between fight and flight. “I am not suggesting anything much, Anakin. Only a walk in the park, if it suits you. The decision is up to you.”

A moment or two passes in thick, awkward silence. Then Anakin, hesitantly: “Will you be there?”

It’s the first pleasant surprise Obi-Wan has had in what felt like an age. His smile grows, unbidden. “Yes, I insist.”

—

Autumn winds reel through his hair before rushing off to rustle in the foliage. The nightly air is crisp on his cheeks, and Obi-Wan doesn’t even think to tighten his robes around him; he enjoys a nice, chilly evening. Silence is alleviated by the song of insects in the grass, as they make their way down the serpentine path, round fountains and beds of flowers. Their robes flutter, and their hands are firmly linked.

It’s nothing that cannot be explained by strict necessity, or so Obi-Wan reasons: He must be able to make sure Anakin never strays from his sight, for safety reasons; and he dislikes the thought of putting any kind of binding or chains or even just a simple tied thread on Anakin. As usual, when all else fails, undertaking by hand is the solution - hence Anakin’s hand in his own, their palms warmly interfacing, their calluses fitting together.

The contact is also enjoyable, but that’s beside the point.

“I like the sky at night,” Anakin says, sudden but quiet. Obi-Wan glances at him to find Anakin not looking back at him for once. Anakin’s hood has long since slipped off because of the way he tips his head back to turn his eyes to the stars. Most of them are shrouded by gathering clouds, but some of them still shine through the dark.

“I see,” Obi-Wan muses. “May I ask why?”

For once, Anakin doesn’t hesitate to answer. “I like to look at the stars. They’re just suns, but far away. Can’t burn you, only blink at you.” Anakin’s hand tightens just a little. A patch of wildflowers gently glows when the two of them pass by. “When you blink back at them, you’re not alone.”

“And what if the stars are hidden?” Obi-Wan gestures, voice light, even as his heart sinks. He knows a lonely child, or one who used to be a lonely child, when he sees one. “What do you do then?”

The sigh that follows is lost in a gust of wind. There’s only the slightest of tremors in Anakin’s fingertips. They fall back into silence, deeper silence this time, as even the insects seem to quiet. The air feels earthy and damp with a coming rain. The sky blackens as clouds roil and thicken, and suddenly it’s dark as pitch and the comfortable coolness splinters into shivers under his skin. When the first drop falls, Obi-Wan reaches over to draw up Anakin’s hood for him. Anakin turns to him, eyes downcast.

“Then I’m alone,” he answers, belated and small.

—

“Maybe you’re right, Master.” Ahsoka picks up her steaming mug of tea, sinking comfortably into her amply cushioned seat on the couch. A strip of morning sunlight draws lazily across the room. “Whatever you’re doing, it’s working. He’s getting... nicer, lately. You should keep walking him.”

Obi-Wan chuckles at the turn of phrase. Walking him… “I don’t think it’s my doing,” he says, pouring a little more tea for himself. Anakin shuffles from one corner of the kitchenette to another, apron strings fluttering behind him. Obi-Wan shakes his head and takes a sip of tea, smiling. “I don’t think it’s my doing at all.”

#obikin #anakin skywalker #obi-wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi #ahsoka tano #star wars prequels #the clone wars #raised as sith anakin #i really did hijack clem’s au #sorry for pinging you again!#why is this so reminiscent of le petit prince all of a sudden #will that story ever stop haunting me? (no)#all aboard the woobify train yay

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sapphirelass · 3 years

Text

I’ll be by your side - Remus LupinxDaughter!Reader

Hi!! Wooow I’m a slow writer XD To be fair though, I am graduating in June, so there’s...quite a lot to do. Anyhow, this is part 3 of my imagine deal? so I’d recommend reading that one and part 2 first. Remus is my favourite HP character, so this mainly focuses on the relationship between him and his daughter, but I guess it’s slight HarryxReader as well ;)

Deal? (Part 1) | Oh, darling... (Part 2) | I’ll be by your side (Part 3)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Please note:

1: I don’t own any of the gifs used, nor any already established characters, so credit to the authors and original creators - You have done a phenomenal job :)

2: English is not my native language, as I was born and raised in Sweden. I have, however, studied English for almost a decade, so I don’t think it’ll be a problem, I just thought I’d let you know ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You probably already know this, but still:

Y/N - Your name

Y/N/N - Your nickname

Y/H - Your house

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Word count: ≈ 2200

Warnings: Battle of Hogwarts, Angst, Blood, Death :(

Enjoy! :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“But, dad! You can’t go yourself and then expect me not to come along!”

“Yes, (Y/N/N), I can, and I will!”

He was desperate to go join the rest of the Order, and searched frantically for his old coat.

“Bu-”

“Darling, listen, this is not your fight, okay? You’re staying with Tonks and Teddy this time, and I’ll-”

She had grabbed his coat and was holding it behind her back, out of her father’s reach.

“DAD!!”

Remus stopped for a moment and took a proper look at his daughter for the first time since receiving the message about the upcoming battle.

“Look, I’m seventeen years old. I’m an adult now, and most of my younger friends are fighting. There’s literally no reason for me not to!”

“There is a perfectly good reason and you know that! Besides, your age is completely irrelevant! It wouldn’t matter if you were fifteen or seventeen, twenty or thirty, I don’t want you fighting!”

His voice was stern, which admittedly wasn’t too uncommon, but it lacked the normal comedic undertone and not even a ghost of a smile could be seen on his face. This did make (Y/N) feel quite uncomfortable, but she was not giving up. She couldn’t leave everyone else and just sit quietly on the sidelines. Surely he understood that, right?

“Well, I’m sorry, but it’s not your choice to make. I know you don’t like it, but I’m going.”

She gave her father his coat and picked a jumper for herself, but stopped abruptly when approaching the front door. Remus had stepped in front of her, and pulled her into a tight hug.

“Please, darling… I can’t have you injured again - or worse! Stay.”

“Dad, I promised you two years ago that I would pick my fights more wisely. We made a deal. And I am choosing this one.”

“(Y/N), it’s not the same! Seeing you hurt back then caused me more pain than you could possibly imagine, but this will be worse. Far worse. An-”

“Don’t you think I know that?” It wasn’t her intention to snap at him, but they didn’t have time for this argument. People were waiting. “I know it’s for real this time, it most definitely was two weeks ago, but I honestly thought you would have more faith in me. I’m not five, okay?!”

“(Y/N/N), don-”

She pulled out of his embrace, tied her shoes and apparated. Leaving him in the middle of an argument like that broke her heart. She knew the chances of them both making it out alive were low, unharmed close to none. They did, however, not have a choice. There was no time to waste. Voldemort could be attacking the castle this very moment, and Harry, Dumbledore’s army and the rest of the Order would need all the help they could get…

~~~

(Y/N) ran down the stairs, desperately searching for any familiar faces, and eventually spotted one she had really longed to see.

“Harry!!”

He turned at the sound of his name and smiled - really smiled - when their eyes met. They weren’t more than a few feet away from each other, and it didn’t take long before they met in the middle.

“(Y/N/N)! You alright?” They hugged each other tightly and enjoyed the feeling of safety, if only for a few seconds. “What happened to your arm?”

She followed his gaze and found her sleeve torn and shoulder covered in blood. It wasn’t too bad though, she hadn’t even noticed it before Harry pointed it out.

“I-I don’t know, it’s fine. How are you feeling?”

He looked down at her and used a bloodied and scarred hand to push some of her hair behind her ear. He wanted to say “fine”, but it would have been a lie.

“Scared”, he admitted, “But also ready. Let’s finish this, once and for all?”

She nodded. “You’re right! How can I help?”

“Well, some people are trying to evacuate all the younger students through the room of requirement, think you could lend them a hand?”

“Sure! Good luck Harold, see you!”

He shook his head at the nickname, but smiled nonetheless.

“Right, good luck. And (Y/N/N)?”

“Yeah?”

“Stay alive, will you?”

“I’ll do my best on one condition.”

“Hmm?”

“You do the same”

He gave her a nod before continuing up the stairs.

“And Harry, we don’t have time for the full story, but if you run into my dad, let him know I’m sorry, will you?”

~~~

Sure, (Y/N) loved Hogwarts, it was her second home, but this was proper chaos! Most of the younger kids were finally safe, but the battle was far from won. There were death eaters everywhere. She stumbled behind suit of armor, narrowly avoiding a flash of red light, and suddenly remembered something her dad had said the other night:

“It is the quality of one's convictions that determines success, not the number of followers”

She knew it was meant to work as motivation, but thinking about it now just made her feel sad. How could she be so stupid? She fought her way through the corridors, but after turning a corner, she found herself facing an empty hallway? A chill went down her spine as the booming voice of Lord Voldemort could be heard all throughout the grounds. He was ordering his followers to back down, hoping to get Harry to come directly to him. Great! Now she had two people to find before it was too late...

Entering the great hall this time felt nothing like it had almost seven years ago. There were people everywhere. Students, teachers, children, former graduates and parents - all in this together, mourning, comforting and healing.

(Y/N) would have noticed Fred Weasley surrounded by the rest of his family. Neville and Oliver Wood carefully moving Colin Creevey out of the way. She would have seen all of them, had it not been for a certain old, brown coat in her peripheral vision.

Her world fell apart, she found herself unable to breathe and didn’t realize she had sprinted towards her father before she felt two, strong arms wrap around her. (Y/N) struggled and tried to push them away, but didn’t have enough strength to do so. She crumpled to the ground and was pulled into a tight embrace.

“(Y/N/N)…”, a soft voice mumbled. “I’m so sorry. Can you try to breathe slower, please? Deep and easy, alright.”

She realized that someone was speaking to her, but she didn’t recognize the words. They held no meaning, almost as if he spoke a different language, or stood very far away. (Y/N) eventually stopped hyperventilating and tried to ease the shaking as she slowly turned to check who it was, sitting with his arms around her. Her eyes met a pair of emerald green ones.

“Harry.” she whispered, still crying but trying to keep her focus on him. There was so much more she would have wanted to say, but she was unable to find the right words. “Please tell me.... Tell me he’s no-...”

“‘m sorry”

They sat for a few minutes before Harry picked a small vial from his pocket and asked if she’d be okay.

“(Y/N/N), I’m sorry, but I have to go. It’s not over yet.”

She took a deep breath.

“It’s fine, I get it. Go. I’d love a moment alone anyways.”

~~~

She sat by her father’s side for a while, but felt unable to look at him, not wanting to fully accept the reality of the situation. It was when the fifth person came up to her to give their condolences that she got up and left the great hall. She couldn’t take it, and besides, it should be fine. The death eaters had left.

She walked the familiar path towards the (Y/H) common room, but nothing seemed... real. It felt like a nightmare, only this time she couldn’t talk it through with her dad over a cup of tea. This time, nobody would be there to convince her it was just a bad dream.

This time, no one would wake her up…

The very moment that thought crossed her mind, a dark chuckle shattered the otherwise eerie silence.

“Avada kedavra”

She barely had time to register Antonin Dolohov with his wand pointed in her direction before an intense flash of green light caused her world to go dark.

This time, she wouldn’t wake up.

~~~

*Darkness*

*A flicker of light*

*A flicker of... hope*

*Warmth?*

~~~

It was a weird feeling. She didn’t feel happy, but rather… at peace. She sat up slowly and let her eyes adjust to the brightness as two voices simultaneously asked:

“(Y/N/N)?!”

She turned around and found herself face to face with a rather tall, red haired wizard, and a slightly older man with longer brown hair.

“Fred? Sirius?”

Fred skipped over and held out his hand, helping his younger friend to her feet. He immediately noticed her dried tears and pulled her into a tight embrace. Sirius remained a few feet away with a pained expression on his face, but was unable to stay quiet for long.

“What happened?”

(Y/N) pulled away and met her godfather’s worried gaze.

“I… It’s my fault. I thought all the Death Eaters had left the castle. They were waiting for Harry in the forbidden forest and I just needed some air...”

“Did Harry go?”

A couple (Y/N) had only seen in pictures, but knew to be James and Lily Potter, had appeared behind Sirius.

“I’m not sure. He left for Dumbledore’s office about fifteen minutes earlier. I’m sorry I didn’t even try to stop him but, with all due respect, he would have gone anyways. It’s impossible to change his mind once he decides on something.”

To her surprise, none of Harry’s parents looked very worried, but shared a smile instead.

“Don’t worry, (Y/N/N).”, said Lily gently, “He’ll know what to do when the time comes.”

“You’ve both come so far”, added James, “Things will be fine in the end, and if they’re not fine, then it’s not the end.”

“I hope you’re both right…”, she mumbled quietly, “sorry, but is dad…?”

James smiled sadly and nodded before turning to call his old friend over, however Sirius got there first.

“Oi! Moony! Get over ‘ere.”

Remus had been discussing something not too far away, and Sirius’ comment made him chuckle as he approached the other marauders.

“Easy, Pads, you make it sound li-”

That was all he had time for, as two arms wrapped themselves tightly around his torso. He would have known who it was even without looking. He’d recognize that hug anywhere. He promised himself he wouldn’t cry, but all it took was one word.

one. single. word.

“Dad!”

A single word before hot, salty tears filled his eyes. It wasn’t possible!? He was completely lost for words. Didn’t know how to react, what to say or what to do. He just stood there, his arms wrapped around his only daughter, unable to process the fact that she was… dead. They both were.

“Dad, I’m so so so sorry! I shouldn’t have shouted, I shouldn’t have taken my anger or fear out on you and above all I shouldn’t have left!?! I… I..”

“(Y/N/N)”

“And now Teddy won’t have his father-”

“(Y/N/N)!!”

“And I swear I tried to find you, but I couldn’t and then it was too late and it’s all my fault a-”

“(Y/N) Lupin!!!”

She fell silent but didn’t let go.

“I’m s-”

“Darling, calm down! What’s done is done, alright. I still wish you hadn’t gone, especially given the apparent outcome, but I understand. Are you okay? Nothing broken?”

“No, I’m good, actually… Nothing hurts at all, but-”

“Good!” He pulled away and put his hands on her shoulders. “Would you mind letting me in on what happened?”

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, not really wanting to talk about the last few hours, yet knowing she owed her father that much.

“I… I entered the great hall and saw… you. I don’t quite know what happened, I just… broke. Then Harry showed up and we just hugged, I guess?”

Lily and James looked at each other and smiled.

“Then we both left and Dolohov appeared out of nowhere and… well that’s that.”

Remus shook his head sadly, immediately understanding the true meaning of his daughter’s words. HE was duelling Dolohov earlier that night. HE lost that duel. Had he won then maybe, possibly, she would still be alive too. His fault... as always

“Remus? Rem?”, James mumbled, putting an arm around his friend’s shoulders, “It’s not your fault. You tried, and that’s the best either of us can do.”

~~~

Things didn’t go according to plan, but perhaps they were the way they were always meant to be.

Her body next to her fathers, as they rested peacefully in the great hall. Her soul next to her father, as they wandered through the deep valleys of Nangijala, awaiting the day lost friends and lovers would come join them. No matter in this life or in the next;

I’ll be by your side

~ L

Masterlist

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x daughter reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin x daughter #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #HP #hp imagine #battle of hogwarts #writing #marauders imagine #marauders #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #sirius black x reader #fred weasly x reader #Padfoot #astrid lindgren

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fandomfixationstation · 3 years

Text

Warning: mention of death of a loved one.

Todays concept is MC gets a call that like their parental figure has died one way or another and this upsets them greatly because one, they aren’t there to help with anything two, the only people there to do anything are their siblings three, they considered said parent a angel or a blessing by god (optional/bonus points if said parents name means angel-) They don’t say anything at first though they seem rather angry and now one can figure out why. then they hide and have a mental breakdown to cry in hopefully but unlikely peace. now I shall write the response headcanons / scenarios or whatever I will do Update: well I didn’t write a scenario / short story bit for all of them because i ran out of energy to do so and then i never went back to it, though if anyone begs or askes nicely I could in theory maybe work something out. this was something self indulgent and was something i wrote to really get me out of a bad headspace. Lucifer

He is the first one to realize something is wrong, especially if they aren’t a very angry person.

probably doesn’t get to ask about what is going on because he is forced to deal with something else and rather quickly

though when people start inquiring where they went after lunch, finding it unlikely that they would randomly choose to skip class or something he makes his goal to find them.

Probably doesn’t take him long to find them after he starts looking. gets it in the first three guesses of where they are hiding.

“why are you hiding here with Cerberus?” Lucifer said with a bit of amusement. he figured he would find them here with his dog. just not curled up and cuddling.

“wouldn’t you like to know” was all they uttered out, having no real energy to argue, or fight. though it was clear they had been crying their eyes out.

“well something is clearly upsetting you, why not talk about it. nobody else is here to listen in” Lucifer offers to lend an ear to listen to their problems. he was also hoping that by doing so he could get to the root of the problem and deal with it. expecting that he was going to have to knock one of his brothers into line again.

“I just received some bad news. that’s all. also, I’ll be otherwise located Friday, so like, don’t worry if I’m not around on Friday, I will be back like Saturday, so there is that” They explain, clearly not wanting to get into the details of the so called bad news.

“otherwise located?” Lucifer inquired as to what the hell they meant by that.

“yeah, um, I will be visiting - visiting the human world for the day.” visiting might not be the word they were looking for but it was the word they went with nonetheless.

“your visiting the human world?” Lucifer was surprised to say the least. especially considering he wasn’t hearing about this till now.

“yeah, i was talking to Diavolo not long ago to make sure it was alright” with a sigh the were back to melting into the side of the dog.

“normally you are excited to visit the human world, what happened” lucifer wanted to get to the root of the misery they were feeling and he wasn’t gonna sweep this under the rug.

“for fuck sakes, you really aren’t gonna leave me alone till I say it huh? my parent fucking died. are you fucking happy, lucifer? Jesus Christ.” doing everything in their power to hold back a second wave of tears as they add on “my blessing of a parent died. can we drop the topic now?” they said clearly not wanting to hear anything come out of lucifer's mouth as they hardly give him the chance to speak.

“ah, I see, my condolences” Lucifer was trying to figure out what to say at the same time he was trying to figure out how to cheer them up or at least make them more comfortable. “do you want some Kleenex? how about some water?” lucifer inquired simply.

“water would be nice.” they let out a sigh.

“im sure your parent was a lovely person. I think it is safe to assume that they’ll end up somewhere where they are safe and happy” Lucifer states simply as he holds a hand out to them to help them to their feet.

“I have no doubts about it. so you don’t need to tell me twice. it just. . . hurts” They says rather quietly. Accepting lucifer’s hand and pulling themself to their feet.

”go take a seat in my office, no one will bother you in there. I’ll join you soon enough with your glass of water.” Mammon

This man probably thinks he did something wrong, spends half the day trying to figure out what he did

if its not that he is trying to figure out who pissed them off and who he should be yelling at.

he hates to admit it but he doesn’t like seeing them angry or upset.

is probably gonna be first to realize that they slipped of to somewhere and start trying to find them right away.

after checking a few other areas, Mammon finally considers they might have just gone home to hide. knocking on their door and slowly opening it mammon calls out into the room “Oi, human are you in here?”.

“Go away Mammon” they were heard but very muffled as they had encased themselves in several blankets, clearly sounding like they were crying. unless they choose to eat gravel or something.

“what’s got you so bumbed out?” Mammon said fully entering the room now know that they were in the room and completely ignoring their request to go away.

“I said go away, I don’t want to talk about it” They said pulling the pillow to their head in hopes to block out more of the world. so that they didn’t have to look up and face the fact they were a hot mess. so mammon didn’t have to see them like this.

“no! the great mammon isn’t leaving till you say what's bothering you! that way I can fix it for you!” Mammon declared boldly. goofy grin on his face hoping that his optimism would help cheer them up.

“you can’t fix this. you cant bring back the dead. well unless you use necromancy, but. that's never worked out” They had let out a dry laugh for saying all of this. but now they were holding back tears trying to not cry their heart out for a second time.

“oh human...” Mammon was at a loss of words, though to be fair he didn’t get the time to form a full sentence.

“I’ll never get them back. they were practically an angel” they sniffled, trying to not sob. “my parent died mammon. what the fuck am I going to do?” they didn’t really expect an answer from mammon.

“Listen here, the great mammon will deal with all the technical talk, and will make sure you can go to the human world long enough for you to do what you need to. but till then and maybe after, I’ll be here for you.” mammon explained simply.

after letting out a chocked sob they reached out a hand and grabbed onto mammon's arm. “thank you” they sobbed out. mammon just sat there and patted the blanket pile gently trying to give as much comfort as he could.

“do you want a hug?”

“please-”

Leviathan

since he hides away and does online classes (Correct me if im wrong) he might not even realize something is going on

unless he messages them and doesn’t get a response.

will ask if the others have seen them and like will try to figure out where they were last seen.

eventually puzzles together that something is wrong and he should look for them

Satan

He although wrathful himself, isn’t able to see through the anger and might be a little annoyed about them for being so.

though he does understand that there is probably a reason for them being upset. he’ll do his best to figure out what caused them to act this way.

he’s stubborn and straight forward, he’ll probably be direct and ask what is wrong and wont leave till he gets an answer.

or he might occasionally bring it up and keep getting updates with how their doing kind of thing.

doesn’t really have to seek for them when they hide away because he watched them slip away and got worried and followed them

Asmodeus

he is very quick to realize something more is going on, something more than meets the eye.

probably doesn’t directly do anything at first other than same some sugar coated words in hopes it cheers them up.

when that doesn’t work, he gets very worried and tries to convince them to do somethings to ‘take your mind off of things’

knows exactly where to look to find them. first try!

Beelzebub

one of two ways, he either doesn’t notice anything for the first little bit, or he has a strange feeling nagging him that something is wrong and he tries to figure out what.

once its clear that they’ve disappeared he is quick to start looking, might take a while to find them because he is gonna check everywhere to find them.

bear hugs no questions asked, will try to comfort to the best of his abilities.

will ask them what they want to do after a while to see what he can do to make them feel better

Belphegor

tbh honest probably knows something is up right away.

with either avoid it entirely or bluntly ask what is wrong

if he doesn’t get a direct answer or is shooed away he doesn’t have the energy to push for the truth, might be a bit annoyed.

once he hears that they have gone missing it probably wont take him long to find them.

will sit down next to them and be like ‘now will you tell me what is wrong?’

Solomon

since he doesn’t have the same amount of time with them he may not notice at first. or he does notice ASAP because holy shit what happened why are they so mad.

might try to inquire what is wrong and like use his natural charm to try to cheer them up.

when he hears they are lost or missing ect. he uses magic to find them as quickly as possible.

will do a bunch of considerably silly and goofy things trying to get them to smile or laugh before trying to get them to talk about whats bothering them

Simeon

doesn’t take him long to figure out something is wrong, just one look and he knows

but other wise, he’ll simply ask if you want to talk about it. when bluntly rejected he’ll leave them alone

they go missing during the day? maybe it was worse than he first realized, he’ll go looking for them.

will find them within the hour, maybe a half hour if he’s lucky.

mans will try to comfort them any way he can.

_____________________________________________________________ sorry, for not doing Diavolo, luke and barbatos, i just didn’t really have the time to do them nor could i figure out how to do ones for them so like aihogdsifh sorry. but i do hope you enjoy this post nonetheless.

#OBEY ME #Obey Me Levi #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me lucifer #Obey me beelzebub #obey me beel #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me headcanons #obey me headcannons #obey me scenarios

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echo-hiraeth · 3 years

Text

Chapter 1: Noise

Part of the “Illicit Limerence” series.

Pairing: Javier Peña (towards the end of season one) x F!Reader

Summary: The reader and Javier find themselves in his bed more and more often, but when the reader decides to confront her emotions and put a halt to their meetings, everything seems to just go more and more south.

Warnings: swearing, violence, mention of vomiting and sickness, angst, smut 18+

Masterlist

Next chapter

“Leaving so soon?”, he questioned, sheets barely covering his naked figure.

You looked over your shoulder as you zipped up your pencil skirt. “I’d rather not have Murphy see me walk out of here”, you muttered, stuffing your blouse into the waistband.

He chuckled lowly, sitting up to press a series of kisses to the back of your neck. “Murphy is a blind hillbilly, princesa, just stay a little while longer”, he cooed, gently sucking on the sensitive skin of your throat.

Despite wanting to give in to his sweet promises and lustful words, you knew better. This was just the type of man he was, purely driven by sex and his own libido. So you took a deep breath and shied away from his sinful touches. “I’ll see you at the office Peña”, you sighed, gathering your purse from the floor and heading for the front door.

You could hear him mumbling something and getting up, his heavy footsteps trailing after you until you ultimately pulled the door shut behind you, catching a glimpse of him. For two months now you’d been sleeping together, two blissfully delicious months wrapped up in Javier’s arms. But it was wrong, so fucking wrong in so many different ways. The two of you were partners for fuck’s sake and if the embassy would find out, Messina would have your heads. And then there was Steve, sweet agent Murphy, one of your closest friends ever since the academy, who begged and pleaded for you not to engage with his partner, for fear that he would win you over, which is – of course – exactly what happened. But it was just sex – right? Yes, just pure physical relief, a man and a woman just fucking the pains of their job away, nothing else. At least that was what you were trying to convince yourself of, Javier Peña was a registered asshole and heartbreaker, but you’d come to know him for his softer interior, his caring side.

The walk of shame from his apartment to your car was one you knew quite well at this point, hair dishevelled, panties either soaked or gone and feelings just an utter complicated mess. You just prayed that nobody would ever see you, the impending shame of being known as one of his many hook-ups just anxiety-inducing by itself. So your drive home was filled with silent music and regret, as per usual.

A short three hour nap and a quick shower were all you could afford on these kind of nights, knowing fully well you had to show up to work the next morning, early and bright. It was getting more and more difficult for you to keep seeing him and you knew you couldn’t keep seeing him. While you were showering you thought of how you could tell him, but nothing seemed good enough and it led to what you could only identify as a nauseating feeling in your lower gut.

This was going to be a long day.

“Mornin’”, Steve smiled at you, setting a cup of coffee and a sandwich down in front of you.

You felt your stomach turn and swiftly slid the coffee away from you. “What have you got for me today Murph?”

“Aha, a day out in the field”, he announced, sipping from the mug you’d rejected. “A stake out for the three of us and later on a meetup with Carillo and his men.”

Steve chuckled as you chowed down on the sandwich, as if you’d been starved for days. You didn’t even bother to swallow your bite as you spoke: “Mm-where’s Peña?”

Your friend shook his head slowly, wiping some sauce from the corner of your mouth. “Probably still busy with last night’s girl.” You choked, Steve quickly moving to pat you on the back. “Slow down partner, there’s plenty more in the kitchen.”

As you swallowed the last bit of your breakfast Javier walked into the small office space, mumbling something to Steve before plopping down in his chair, lazily lighting a cigarette and taking a long drag. You quickly got up off your chair, not wanting to face him right now and muttered something about getting another sandwich.

The short walk to the office kitchen had managed to ease your nerves the slightest bit, just enough for you to walk back with your head held up high and pretend as if nothing was the matter. By the time you came back Steve had filled Javi in and the two of them stood there waiting for you with their jackets on.

A few minutes later you were sat in the backseat of the SUV, directly behind Steve as you read over some reports, Javier’s eyes catching yours in the rear view mirror every so often. You cursed the Colombian roads, feeling more and more sick with every bump the car hit. When the car finally came to a halt you let out a sigh of relief, your forehead glistening with sweat. Steve threw you a worried look, quirking his eyebrow as if to ask you if you were alright. You quickly nodded and smiled, assuring him you were okay, before stepping out of the vehicle to stretch your legs.

“Y/n”, an all-too-familiar voice sounded, a hand finding its way onto your shoulder, “is everything alright?”

You shrugged his hand off of you, crossing your arms over your chest you sighed: “I’m fine Javier. Let’s get back in the car, Pablo’s rats should be here soon.”

“Did something happen last night? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“We need to stop seeing each other, I can’t do this anymore”, you let out in one breath, voice surprisingly calm.

He shuffled on his feet, hands resting on his hips as he gaped at you. “I’m not sure I understand, did I say something wrong?”

You scoffed before spinning on your heels, quickly walking back over to the car. There was no way you were giving him the option to get you alone again today, the awkwardness of it all just too much. So you joined Steve in the front seat, eyes burning with the effort of trying to contain your emotions.

It was safe to say that this particular stake out and day in general was the worst you’d had the displeasure of experiencing while being in Colombia. You could feel his eyes on you the entire time and when you told Steve you weren’t feeling well and went home early, it had taken everything within him not to follow you right there and then.

As soon as the door of your tiny apartment fell into the lock you broke down into tears, feeling completely overwhelmed. This had hit you harder than you liked to admit, coming to realise that your feelings towards the cold man were more severe than you’d expected. Work was going to be nothing short of awkward and emotionally draining but you’d rather spend your time avoiding Javier there, then just thinking and overthinking in bed or on the couch. You’d decided to give yourself the leeway to get over yourself, calling in sick for the next four days, until the weekend. It wasn’t entirely untrue, you experienced some odd nausea and intense headaches, making you stay away from any and all liquor, an otherwise very efficient yet unhealthy coping mechanism.

Everything had been calm aside from Steve and Connie calling in every so often to check up. You’d lied to them about having a really bad cold, spiking fever, that kind of thing and had advised them to stay faaaar away. It wasn’t until Saturday night, when you heard a knock at your door that you were disrupted from your repose. Assuming it to be one of the two or maybe that one neighbour that always needed something you opened up the door without checking.

When your eyes met Javier’s you sighed, going to close the door. He quickly jammed his foot between it, pushing it back open with his arm. “Can we just fucking talk?”, he asked, clearly annoyed with your attitude towards the entire situation.

“Fine, ten minutes, nothing more, I want to go to bed”, you said with an unsteady voice.

He let himself in, wrapping his arms around you when the door closed shut. “Preciosa, I miss you..”

You pressed your nose into the collar of his shirt, indulging in the hypnotising scent of his cologne and cigarettes. “I-I do too, but this- we can’t Javi..”

“And why not, nobody has to know hermosa, it could just be you and me”, he purred, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your jaw. You let out a soft sob, making him stop abruptly. “What’s wrong, are you hurt?”

“Please just leave Javi, don’t make it more difficult then it already is”, you pleaded quietly, averting his worried eyes.

Javier’s face was contorted with frustration, he was upset with himself for hurting you like this. “Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll leave.” He pressed a gentle, loving kiss to your lips, nose softly rubbing against yours.

You eagerly kissed him back, the tears streaming down your face. Your hands soon found their way to their jacket, in an attempt to slide it off of his broad shoulders. He quickly grabbed onto your wrists stopping you. “Let me take care of you, por favor.”

A shy and hesitant nod was all he needed before you were led into your bedroom. He gently stripped you of your clothes, kissing every new exposed body part before moving on to the next. The sheer tenderness in his touches and words set your afire with unspoken love and need. Your fingers made quick work of his belt and buttons, haphazardly shoving his dark jeans down his thighs. Javier grunted as he picked you up, tossing you onto the bed, face down, tonight wasn’t about romance, it was about release, catharsis.

He grabbed onto your hips, perking your ass up, giving him easy access. Mesmerized as per usual, he watched the way your back curved when he lined himself up, a small gasp finding its way out of your throat when he teasingly rubbed the head against your clit. He stuttered out something along the lines of an apology before harshly thrusting into you, showing absolutely no mercy as he bottomed himself out. Your response consisted of a high pitched cry and obnoxious breathing, the pain and pleasure merging, making your mind go completely blank.

His fingers squeezed the supple flesh of your round hips, making him groan even louder, your body’s reactions to him turning him on all the more. The sheer force of his strokes told you everything you needed to know, he was livid. Javier was outraged about a plethora of things, the cartel, his actions, his lack of words but most of all you. Fuck – it wasn’t supposed to end like this, you were just another body to him, that’s what you were supposed to be, but he found himself concerned for you, he found himself wanting to check up on you, and something about that set him off. You’d promised him relief and all you ended up being was more trouble, more noise in his head. So, he’d wanted to take it out on you and that was exactly what he was doing.

The sound of his hips smacking against yours was therapeutic, your moans and mewls the ego boost he’d needed. With another hard thrusts he suddenly pulled out, jerking himself off as he came all over your lower back. He closed his eyes, catching his breath, before looking at you, panting on the bed, face hidden within the safety of your pillow. Good.

He quickly hoisted his jeans back up and fastened the button before throwing his shirt over his head. The man didn’t even bother to look at you as he threw a towel at you, ordering you to clean yourself up. You were right, you couldn’t do this anymore, tonight had been the last time, a goodbye. All he could think about as you sat there, breasts heaving up and down in time with your sobs, was how much he hated himself. He figured he was doing you a favour by distancing himself, but really it was a selfish thing, the cold and closed-off agent had vowed long ago that lovers and friends were just more loose ends for the cartel to catch onto, and he would never forgive himself if somebody would be hurt – even killed – in his name.

“You’re a monster”, you spat out, using the filthy towel to cover your body.

“I’m aware”, he replied lacing his shoes.

You disappeared into your bathroom, creating the necessary distance between the two of you, as you cried your eyes out. The need to hold and comfort you was there, but deep inside he knew that it – he would never be enough. So he left, the sounds of your sobs and sniffles ringing in his ears.

You spent the rest of your weekend watching stupid telenovelas and binge-eating, your hunger and cravings seemingly insatiable. Well it wasn’t like Javier would be showing up anytime soon, so there was no reason why you couldn’t let go and indulge in some sugar and fat. Tomorrow you’d be going back to work and seeing his stupidly handsome face until the end of your shift. At this point you’d rather spend the day doing paperwork and get patronised and hit on by the stuck-up men at the office all day.

Despite only having to start at noon, work had never been more stressful. Your heart rate picking up more and more with every step towards the shared office space. You stopped breathing when you saw him sitting there, sucking on the end of his cigarette, comfortably reading over some document. Steve smiled at you, winking in the direction of your desk where he’d left you a lunch bag of some sorts. You opened the glass door and walked over to your desk, returning his smile before looking inside of the brown bag.

“Connie figured you’d want some good food”, he smirked, pointing at the baked goods.

You quietly chuckled, quickly reading over the note she’d left you. “I should get sick more often, Connie’s muffins are just fucking heaven.” You sank your teeth into the treat, humming at the taste, making Steve laugh boyishly.

“Well, I hope you enjoyed it, because today’s gonna be a long one partner.”

Steve hadn’t exaggerated, the first two hours of your workday were spent discussing and arguing with the officials about a plan of approach concerning the recent tragedy. One of Pablo’s men had bombed a commercial flight and the news had shaken the nation, leaving everyone astonished. The meeting had however been cut short by Carillo, informing you all that there was mention of new leads and potential arrests. Messina had excused the three of you and soon you were back in the car, only this time Steve was going along with Carillo, leaving you and Javi alone.

The vehicle was filled with unsaid words and a loaded tension as the two of you drove in silence. You looked out of your window trying to avoid Javier, but most of all, trying to deny the bile rising in your throat. The Columbian roads and heavy lunch hadn’t been the best combination and soon you gripped onto the handle of the door, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Pull over.”

He scoffed at you, shaking his head in disbelief. “We’re adults y/l/n surely you can-“

“I will fucking puke on you if you don’t”, you gritted out.

Your “threat” had come through to him, making him swerve the car to the side of the road, barely stopped before you stumbled out of the car, falling onto your knees as you emptied out your stomach. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to decide what to do until he finally got out of the car and stood beside you. His gaze was fixed in front of his as he held your ponytail back for you. By the time the puking had stopped long enough for you to take a decent breath you were a shaking and shivering mess. Javier gently helped you up, leaning you against the car as he grabbed something out of the trunk. He handed you a bottle of water and a shirt, which you used to wipe your sweaty forehead and eventually the corners of your mouth.

“You sick?”, he asked, looking you up and down.

You ran a shaky hand across your face, legs starting to give out from underneath you. Javier swiftly caught you, helping you onto the passenger’s seat. “I- just give me a minute”, you exhaled.

“I’m calling back-up, you need to get back to the office.”

“Javier please, I’m fine, I just ate something bad”, you interjected, leaning your heavy-head against the car seat’s headrest.

He sighed deeply before closing your door and getting in on the other side. The rest of the drive was equally silent as the first part had been, only now Javier’s gut was burning with worry and guilt. He tried to keep it cool as he snuck a peak at you every other minute, just wanting to make sure you were still alive and breathing. As you arrived at the meetup spot he slowly parked the car before looking at you. “I don’t want you in there when you’re like.. this.”

“Unfortunately”, you sassed while getting out of the car and grabbing a tactical vest from the trunk, “that’s not your call, agent Peña.”

You soon joined Steve and Carillo where they stood, fastening the various buckles and straps on your vest before slipping your gun into the pocket in the front. “Ah agent y/l/n, un placer verlo”, (a pleasure to see you) he smirked as he shook your hand.

“¿Cuál es el plan, Horacio? (What‘s the plan).

Steve jutted on his hip, his knowledge of Spanish, or lack thereof making him feel alienated from the conversation. “English fuckers.”

As the colonel filled you all in you felt Javier tug on your vest, making you lose your footing. “What the-“

“If you’re going to be an idiot and go in there then at least make sure your fucking vest is properly tied”, he sneered as he fastened another buckle.

One minute you were bickering with your ex-lover and the next you were creeping up an alleyway with him, approaching the backdoor of the building. Before you could get there the door swung open, a set of two narco-men storming out, wielding guns of their own. Alas, the chase had started, leaving you and your partner to run after them. The two of you split up as they entered another building, with you heading inside as well, carefully scouting the area for any one of them.

As you saw one of them hurrying towards the back entrance you ran after him, clearing the steps and almost losing your footing in your hurry. Javi was nowhere to be seen as you chased after the man, who disappeared into yet another building. You followed once more, creeping up the stairs with your weapon held high, ready to shoot on sight. It was quiet, the man seemingly vanished. When you heard a scream outside you whipped your head to the side, lowering your gun for just a second when the man came into view again, firing two rounds into your chest. Luckily your vest absorbed most of the damage, but the impact had you stumbling backwards, toppling out of the second story window, landing onto the hot concrete with a yelp of pain and a loud thud. Whether it was the pain or daylight blinding you, you hadn’t a clue, it really didn’t matter, because soon you were out cold in the middle of the street, causing a whole new commotion.

#javier peña #narcos #imagine #pedro pascal #javier peña x reader #illicit limerence

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quillsareswords · 3 years

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could u do a damian wayne x reader where the reader is a titan and damian and her are friends and where the reader has a really crooked smile and crooked teeth and damian just adores it but the reader hates it because everyone makes jokes about it even though they’re just kidding she’s just really insecure like maybe a fellow titan makes a joke about it and damian defends her

Thank you for requesting! This is written by someone who two snagle teeth that sit more like tusks that I despise, so I get where we're coming from here 😔

Prompt List • Masterlist (in bio)

He's always liked your smile. Yeah, it's lopsided and looks more like something torn straight from an evil swamp witch in a storybook, but he adores it.

He loves it because it's yours. Trademark yours. Nobody in the world has a smile exactly like yours. He loves it because it means you're happy. It isn't something torn from a billboard and slapped across someone's face—it's your happiness, in all its realistic and lifelike glory. Nothing any orthodontist can recreate.

He remembers when you first joined the Titans. Barely two weeks after he did, himself. You'd smiled broadly back then, laughing openly at his quips and jokes too dark for you to repeat.

After so long spent around rich people with perfect teeth and catered smiles, your crooked grin stole his heart right out from under him. He hadn't noticed at first, when his heart toppled into your hands: he was too busy admiring your mouth and wondering what'd it could feel like against his.

It took a long time for him to come to terms with his feelings for you. Years, actually. But even while he was trying desperately to suppress an emotional attachment that ran much deeper that just your smile, he couldn't deny himself the pleasure of seeing it. He continued hissing comments in the middle of meetings and pinpointing the things you thought were funniest, cutes, sweetest. Anything to earn a smile.

Unfortunately, he suspects not everybody felt the same glimmering warmth that came with your smile. At the years dragged on, your grin shrank. It was gradual at first, fewer and farther between, until one day they stopped altogether. No more teeth peeking out between the break in your lips. You still smiled plenty, at all his jokes and barbed comebacks, but never showing any teeth. Close-lipped smiles only. When you laughed, it was with a hand or wrist over your mouth. No teeth.

It was late, the night he asked about it. You were sixteen, and he'd given up on shoving away emotions. He still refused to admit anything to you, but he'd allow himself to call you a close friend—one of his two best friends (not that he'd ever said that to your face). It was in San Francisco, and you were laying beside him on the roof of Titan Tower.

You were chuckling still chuckling about watching Beat Boy spurt fruit punch put of his nose when Raven kissed his cheek on a dare (your dare, simply because you wanted to see how hard you could get her to blush).

He was staring up at what stars could be seen through the city's light pollution. He was smiling and listening, but he was only really paying you half his attention. He was thinking about the pictures you'd been in throughout the night, the close-lipped smiles, the hands covering your laughter. That one time you covered your mouth again because you couldn't help grinning at him from across the room as he deadpanned, listening to Dick drawl on about celebrating the successful mission you'd all completed the night before.

He let's your chuckling die down before he rolls his face toward you. "Can I ask you something?"

You look his way, an uncovered, tooth-flashing smile still settled across your mouth, though it starts to fade at the seriousness in his tone.

You still smile for him. Just him.

"Why do you cover your mouth when you laugh?"

Your smile becomes lopsided. You aren't totally sure how to react, and it's written across your face, despite trying to play it off. "What?"

"When you laugh, you cover your mouth with your hand," he reiterates. "And you don't smile around people like you used to."

Your smile droops again. You turn away, to face the stars again. "I dunno. I just do."

He knows there's something else, but he's learned to recognize when you don't want to talk about something. He wants to press you, he wants to figure out what the problem is so he can fix it. Hedyfix all your problems, if he could.

He shoves the thought away before it advances on as to why. "How many Titans can pass out in one room?"

You recognize the tone he uses specifically for a joke. You're already starting to smile. "I dunno, how many?"

"Let's go back inside and find out."

It's a good week afterward that he finally gets his answers. You're sandwiched between him and Raven, focused more on the movie than Beast Boy trying to get Cyborg to spit out his mouth full of water. Some bet they'd made, you've gathered. Why they'd chosen a horror movie is beyond you.

Damian's got more out of you that Garfield has gotten out of his target so far, and it's already halfway through the movie. Raven even giggled at the few she overheard.

It's all fun and games, until Garfield looks up at the screen, and barks out a laugh from the other side of Raven. "Look, it's (Y/N)!"

He's referring to the clown on the screen. The original Pennywise. With rotten, crooked teeth and a chilling grin that probably made kids cry.

Damian rolls his eyes and scoffs. He turns toward you to snicker something about Gar projecting his own issues, but stops cold when he sees the look on your face.

Your eyes are still on the movie, but they're unfocused and your face is twisted with hurt. You try to wipe the expression away when you realize he's looking.

Oh. That's the problem. He should have guessed. Suppose he was too caught up in his own opinion to really consider what any ignorant rodent might think or say about you.

Cyborg groans something, completely unintelligible with a mouthful of water, but it sounds like it was supposed to be scolding. Raven doesn't seem to have heard it.

There are tears in your eyes when you absently scratch the side of your arm and stand up. "I'll be back," you brush off with a forced half smile that's meant to look playful, but comes off pained. You make for the kitchen too quickly to be subtle.

Damian watches you go, but his attention hones on Garfield the moment your out of sight. The green boy is still staring questioningly at Cy's glare when Damian whacks him with the remote.

He swears, reaching up to rub where the hard plastic made contact, turning to tell Damian off and to make him pick up the batteries that came flying out, but Damian's on him first.

"Looks like (L/N), does it?" he growls, jerking his head toward the paused imagine. "Are you always this idiotic or just an asshole?"

Damian watches the confusion turn to pained understanding as he looks between Pennywise and a very angry ex-assassin.

Cyborg spits his water back into the cup on the table. "Dude, come on. That was such a dick thing to say..."

Damian doesn't sit around for the rest. He shoulders the kitchen door open with an empty glass in hand.

You're staring into the yellow light of the microwave, listening to popcorn kernels pop, with your back to him and tour hands braced against the counter.

He hesitates by the door, steps forward suddenly slow and unsure. He glances the sink, remembers the glass, and makes for the faucet. He doesn't want to make it terribly obvious that he knows you're upset, for fear of upsetting you further.

"You shouldn't stand in front of the microwave like that," he grumbles, twisting on the cold water. "Radiation, and all that."

You don't reply. Forty five seconds left on the timer.

He sighs. He pulls his glass from the sink and switches off the water. He leaves the half-full dish on the counter.

You feel his hand on your shoulder without hearing him move. Your head jerks toward him reflexively, but you're quick to turn back to the microwave.

Not quick enough to hide unshed tears and red rimmed eyes.

His hand slides down to your shoulder blade. "Hey. Look at me."

"I'm fine," you mumble, shaking your head dismissively. "I'll be back in a second, just wanted–"

"(Y/N)." His voice is soft in your ears, softer still on an emotional wound. "Look at me."

You release a deep breath, steeling yourself as best you can. His hand is warm on your back, and all you can think about is how badly you want to be held by him. You drop one hand from the counter and turn.

His hand glides with your movement, resting now on your arm. "It was a stupid joke. He's going to apologize. He didn't mean it."

You consider faking another smile and brushing it all off, but you can't seem to bring yourself to do it. Instead, you take a new interest in his shoes. "He wasn't wrong."

"He was." There's enough conviction in his voice to draw your eyes back to his. "He's said enough dumb things to convince mute man glad to be, but that was possibly one of the stupidest."

You chuckle, despite yourself. "That's an awful joke to make," you scold. Still the corners of your lips are tilting upward.

"I know," he admits. "But I'll tell an even worse one if it means you'll smile for me."

Your face falls slack. Eyes wide, surprised.

His free hand finds your other arm. "You have the happiest smile I've ever seen, (Y/N). You don't have to look like a orthodontic aligners commercial to have the prettiest smile in any room. And if anyone tells you otherwise, I'll knock their incisors out."

You've got tears in your eyes again, but your wobbling bottom lip is still tilling toward the ceiling. You sniffle once, shuffling forward just enough to wrap he your arms around him.

His arms come up around you like they've been waiting his whole life for you. And the way you fit against him so perfectly, he wonders if they have.

You bury your face in his shoulder. "Thank you," you mumble against his shirt. "Nobody's ever said that about my smile before."

"No one?" He sounds genuinely surprised, and your body gently shakes hon his arms and you chuckle again.

You pull away slowly, but you can't convince yourself to step away just yet. He doesn't seem to mind, arms still so secure around you. "No. But I shouldn't be surprised," you smile again, wider, "considering you're the only person I've never felt so self conscious around."

He smiles right back. "Good. I couldn't stand it if you tried to hide from me like you do everyone else."

Your teeth disappear again, but it's not behind tight lips and self conscious dread. It's something soft, made solely for him. "No. I don't think I could hide it from you if I tried."

He doesn't remember who moved first. If it was your hands on his cheeks or his arms around your waist, or who leaned and who met them halfway. All he does remember is how many times he imagined tour lips against his, and how many times he'd guessed it all right.

#damian wayne #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne x reader #everybody has pretty smiles!!#i promise!!#they're all so happy!!!!

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