#would be nice to get back into the habit. idk if i will be able to get back into it but it would be nice.

[canonicallyanxious]

"be that as it may."

Dimension 20: A Court of Fey and Flowers | Rue/Hob | 1.9k words

i've been holding onto this take on a ruehob arranged marriage au for a while now with grand (and perhaps misguided lol) ambitions of turning it into a proper fic with, like, a plot or something. idk if they will ever come to fruition, probably not tbqh skdjfnskdfnsd but even if I'm not able to continue with this idea I like this first scene well enough that i wanted to share! The thought process behind this is an arranged marriage au that takes place pre-canon (so well before the Bloom and well before they have the opportunity to meet the other PCs), bringing Captain Hob to the Court of Wonder for at least part of the duration of their engagement. Pls enjoy!

On a beautiful summer evening in a land where it was always summer, the endless sky veiled with sunset-kissed blue and fireflies already dancing high and bright in the gossamer air, you stood in a garden with a half-full wine glass in one hand and your composure tucked carefully in the other. A light breeze rustled through your diaphanous skirts and the distant music settled easily above the rolling chatter, all deeply familiar stimuli to your keenly tuned senses. If you closed your eyes for but a moment, it was almost easy to forget the party sprawled in front of you was ostensibly being held in your honor.

Well. Half in your honor, if you wanted to be pedantic. And a night like this one made you uncharacteristically inclined to it.

Not that you could ever truly forget a thing like that. It settled over your skin like an ill-fitting gown, the vague itch of something that didn’t feel quite right - people’s eyes that lingered on you rather than sliding away, perhaps, or the cool weight of the glass in your hand when usually you were perfectly content to let others enjoy the fruits of the night themselves. Working day and night to pull together an occasion for the ages and stepping deftly to the fringes of it to watch it all unfold, effortless-seeming as a flower in bloom - that was how things usually were, and you liked it that way. Had, in fact, worked very hard for a very long time to make it so.

But there would be no lingering on the fringes tonight. This was true regardless of the things that lived in your little heart. And when it came to living with truths you wouldn’t choose for yourself, you’d had more than a lifetime of practice.

The Blue Fairy glided to a stop in front of you, a crown of tiny stars twinkling merrily on her brow. “My warmest congratulations to you for such a lovely night, Mx. Rue,” she said with a polite incline of her head. “It has been many a moon since the Court has celebrated such a… singular engagement.”

You answered with a practiced smile, and if it was a little stiff, well, no one would blame you after the week you’d had, would they? “Thank you, your Grace,” you said dutifully, and you were careful to keep your expression in place even at how quickly she stepped away after murmuring a brief farewell, just polite enough to scrape by the barest minimum standards of respectability.

Such an interaction probably served as a fair indication of how the rest of the evening might play out. You took a perfunctory sip of your wine, barely tasting it as it went down. The night was young, practically newborn, and a faint headache was already unfurling treacherously between your temples.

From across the lavishly appointed garden Wuvvy caught your eye, and smiled. It was brief, her eyes already darting away toward whatever fire she was probably having to put out in your stead, but she’d always seemed to have a near preternatural sense for the kind of reassurance you needed, and this moment was no exception. A reminder that this, all of this, was not something you would have to bear alone - that was all it took to steady your stance, tension rolling easily off your shoulders. You took another sip of your wine, long and deliberate, and this time it was sweetly fortifying in the back of your throat.

A few more hours, for propriety’s sake. You could do a few more hours. In the grand scheme of an immortal life, a few hours were practically nothing. And then tomorrow - tomorrow, the real work could begin.

There. Standing close to the flowering archway that led to the rest of the gardens, surrounded by a small throng of courtesans he towered easily over and looking loathe to relinquish access to the exit at his back, was the other fey this evening owed its honor to.

He’d been rather studiously avoiding your gaze for the better part of the evening. You didn’t take it personally. If you were the one who’d been swiftly and unceremoniously spirited away to a court far from your home for the sole purpose of saving face, you would probably feel some type of way about it, too. Especially if such a move was accompanied by an engagement you had never asked for to a person you had never met.

But if this whole farce was in service of appearances, it would not do to be seen apart from your betrothed for long, would it?

He didn’t seem particularly surprised when a moment later you moved to his side, nor when you didn’t take his arm. “The Captain must be regaling you with tales of his thrilling exploits,” you said smoothly to the crowd of tittering fairies he’d gathered, careful not to skip a beat, even more so to make it seem effortless. “I can tell from how impressed you all look, as is only right.”

“Not as such,” Captain Hob said, gruff in his countenance. “Hardly thrilling, in any case.”

“Oh, nonsense,” you said warmly, and then to the courtesans: “they don’t hand out medals of courage for just any old act of service, you know. This one was for saving a whole village from near-certain ruin - at great risk to his own life, mind you.”

A chorus of appropriately awed ooh’s and ah’s floated into the night as you pointed at the gleaming badge pinned just above his left breastbone. A minute shift in his stance caused you to glance up, and you were surprised to find his eyes already on you. Your gazes met, for a heartbeat. He looked - taken aback, almost. He blinked.

And then, turning back to his rapt audience with an easy grace that nearly caught you off guard, the moment over so quickly you wondered if you’d imagined the expression on his face -

“Village is overselling it, honestly,” Captain Hob said, lowering his voice in a theatrically confiding whisper. “Everyone knows it was more of a large hamlet.”

After the giggles subsided, you smiled indulgently. “If I may have a word with my fiance,” you said, and deftly drew him away.

One might expect someone of his station to relax at least a bit once out from under the harsh glare of the limelight, but if anything he stood a little straighter now that you were relatively alone, arms folding neatly behind his back as if on instinct.

“Mx. Rue,” he said, low and deep in a way that would have made you lean in to catch the words if you didn’t know any better.

You inclined your head. “Captain.”

He regarded you for a moment. In your line of work, being able to intuit others’ feelings and desires was a skill you’d painstakingly developed over long centuries, at first out of necessity and then out of sheer habit. But it was one that required scrupulous practice, and his was a face you had only first seen a matter of days ago. You could not - should not - begin to guess at the things it might hide.

“You must forgive me my clumsiness, Mx. Rue,” he said, after another beat of silence. His ears twitched. “I’m afraid I do not possess even half your social graces.”

“On the contrary, Captain,” you said lightly. “You clearly didn’t need my help in keeping our guests enthralled. They were already practically speechless by the time I came on the scene, and you must understand how difficult a feat like that is to accomplish in a court such as this.”

There was a low and rumbling sound; you recognized it a second too late as laughter. “Be that as it may,” he said. “Any help willingly given on your part is gladly and wholeheartedly accepted on mine.”

You might have rolled your eyes - subtly, of course - had the words, so formal in their cadence, come from someone else. From him, his voice as even and steadfast as it had been since you’d first appeared at his side, they sounded entirely genuine.

Which was - not something you frequently encountered. Not in a court such as this.

“Of course,” you said, trying for your usual lilting tone of voice. And if it came out a touch softer than you’d anticipated, such a thing was hardly worthy of notice from yourself or anyone else.

“If I may,” he began, and as he trailed off seemed to falter in his resolve, as if in another moment he might attempt to change the subject.

You had never been the kind of fey who let go of things so easily, for better or for worse. “Yes, Captain?”

“How did you know about Muckwurst’s Bluff?” he said, quietly.

His eyes on your eyes, now. New eyes in a new face. And he was from a court you had never stepped foot in, entrenched in a culture you had no familiarity with. You shouldn’t be quick to draw conclusions.

And yet you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was no mystery to be found in that warm, golden gaze. Still as ancient amber.

“Why wouldn’t I?” you said. “You deserve to be known for it.”

You hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Not like that, anyway. As if he was someone you knew, or someone you wanted to know. As if he was a friend - or even someone who could be.

“Ah,” he said.

“Anyway,” you said, pulling your gaze away, “I like to do my research, Captain.”

If you couldn’t see his face, there was no point in reading anything into his silence. You didn’t bother trying.

“Of course,” he said. “I would hate to imply anything but your utmost attention to detail, Mx. Rue.”

Something in his tone made your heart skip a beat, which made the back of your neck prickle almost indignantly. Impossible to say what. It was an unexpected instinct, and perhaps unfair, given the circumstances. Or perhaps not. 

Abruptly you decided you were done with this conversation. In a restless fit of impulse, you brought your glass to your mouth and downed the last of your wine. Thankfully there wasn’t much of it left.

“Care for another drink, Captain?” You tilted your empty glass in his direction. “It seems I’m due for a refill of my own.”

Captain Hob wasn’t holding a glass. Stupid, embarrassingly amateurish on your part, really; regardless of what he’d claimed about his social graces the opening you’d left was so appallingly wide that anyone with half a working brain cell would be at full liberty to take offense if they wished to. 

And yet. He lowered his eyes, the perfect image of humility, and bowed his head graciously. “Please, don’t feel obligated to linger on my account, Mx. Rue,” he said. “I have no doubt that there are many libations and revelries ahead of us yet.”

There was nothing for it, then, but to take your leave as you’d so desired just a moment prior. “Captain,” you murmured, and turned away.

You had expected - hoped, really - that moving away from him would help you find your balance, return you to your usual level-headed form. But as it turned out, the mere thought of the crowd neatly swallowing him up behind you had rather the opposite effect. Your heart was beating fast and hard, irritatingly enough. Not that that was any cause for real concern. It had been some time since you’d last imbibed fey spirits in earnest. Yes, that must be it.

And maybe that would also explain why your headache was nearly gone. Or maybe it wouldn’t. What did it really matter, in the end?

The night would be over soon enough.

#dimension 20 #a court of fey and flowers #acofaf #ruehob #sarah does writing #phew baby it's been a hot minute since i shared fic #would be nice to get back into the habit. idk if i will be able to get back into it but it would be nice. #actually in the process of revisiting/editing this i think i finally figured out how to make this work story-wise #so we shall see! #writing's been really challenging for the past year or so i won't lie but i do miss it something fierce

[azulpitlane]

british slang I ln4

pairing: lando norris x american!reader summary: pranking lando is the only way he can finally get off his phone notes: hi🧍‍♀️i accidentally disappeared but this semester hit me harder than i expected and im honestly out of ideas so idk what this is masterlist

“Babe what does leng mean?”

“Leng? Why are you asking?” Lando responded confusingly while he scrolled through his phone.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes as you watch him keep his gaze on his screen. It was a bad habit that you quickly picked up on early on your relationship, but now that you were finally living with Lando you were hoping he would spend less time on his phone considering your time together was limited with his constant traveling.

There had been few times you had even caught him messaging his friends, some who were women, while he was suppose to be spending time with you. Though you weren't a very jealous person and trusted Lando more than anything, it didn't sit right with you that he was messaging other girls during your time together. You had brought it up to him a few times where he promised to put it down and spend more time with you. Little liar.

“Some british guy at the gym called me leng this morning.” you replied trying to sound nonchalant.

“What?” Lando finally tore his gaze away from the screen, confusion etched on his face. You fought the urge to smirk as you stared at him acting clueless. “And what did you say?”

“I asked him what that meant and he just laughed and then said I had a nice ‘bunda’?” you revealed, trying your best to keep a straight face.

Lando's brows furrowed in bewilderment. "Are you serious?"

“Yeah, but I figured out what bunda means!” you said excitedly.

“And what does it mean?” Lando asked, now fully engaged in the conversation as he sat fully sat up from his laid back position.

“Accent!” you declared triumphantly.

“Baby, what?” he responded, confusion quickly turned to exasperation. “Why would you think it means accent?”

“Because afterwards he said im ‘so american’ so when he said I had a nice bunda he was referring to my accent.”

Lando pinched the skin between his eyebrows and held back a groan, “Y/n, no. Leng means attractive and bunda means butt. That guy was flirting with you.”

"Oh," you muttered, "then I probably shouldn't have exchanged numbers with him, right?"

"YOUR NUMBER? WHY WOULD YOU-" Lando's voice rose in disbelief, his eyes widening in shock.

"I thought he was just being friendly! I wanted a new gym buddy, and he said he bet he could improve my stamina so I think he wants to give me some workout tips," you explained, barely able to contain your laughter.

"HE SAID WHAT? NO, WHO IS THIS GUY?" Lando's frustration was clear now, his protective instincts kicking in.

"Well, his name was-" Before you could finish, Lando cut you off.

"You know what? You're not going to that gym alone anymore," he declared firmly. You almost let out a scoff feeling as your small prank failed as you watch him pick up his phone again and get back to scrolling as he laid back down on your bed.

You laid down next to him and pretended to be engrossed in your phone, stifling your giggles as you exchanged messages with your friend about your current situation. You ultimately decided to keep the prank going and you could sense his gaze on you, his curiosity evident in the subtle glances he casted your way.

"That guy- you deleted his number, right?" he asked as he looked at you.

"Hm? you feigned innocence, tilting your head slightly to peer at him through the corner of your eye.

"Yeah, the gym guy. You deleted his number?" he pressed, a hint of urgency in his tone.

"Oh, him," you replied nonchalantly, tapping away at your phone with deliberate slowness. "yeah."

He looked at you suspiciously as he fully turned to look at you, "So who are you texting?"

You maintained your facade of innocence, keeping your gaze fixed on your phone screen almost as payback. "Just a friend," you replied casually, your fingers moving across the screen as you kept texting your friend.

Lando's suspicion only seemed to grow as he observed your behavior. "Just a friend, huh?" he echoed, his tone laced with skepticism. "What are you guys talking about?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, pretending to be engrossed in your conversation. "Oh you know, just some fitness tips," you quipped, your voice tinged with amusement.

He gasped loudly and reached for your phone, but you quickly pulled back just in time. "Y/n Y/l/n do not tell me you are even entertaining this guy right now while you lay right next to me."

"Well it's a hobby of yours that I decided to pick up." you replied keeping your phone out of reach.

"I do not do that!"

You raised your eyebrows then casted a glance at his phone that was still on, sitting on his lap. He followed your gaze and scrunched his nose lightly, "Okay maybe I do it sometimes."

You gave him a pointed look and he blinked slowly, "See, now you know how it feels trying to talk to someone who's too busy on their phone." you replied.

Lando's expression softened "Okay, okay, I know it's a problem, but this time I swear I won't do it again." he promised earnestly, his gaze pleading for forgiveness.

You tilted your head and he almost pouted at your lack of response, "I swear it on everything, I swear it on racing! If I do it again, I shall never race again." he declared with a serious face while crossing his heart.

You giggled slightly at his dramatics, 'Alright, alright," you relented, "I'll hold you to it drama queen."

He smiled, his eyes sparkling with mischief, and playfully tackled you back into a laying position. Hovering over you, he pressed gentle kisses all over your face. "Huh, you are better than my phone," he murmured teasingly, his lips brushing against yours.

You grinned up at him and pulled him closer, savoring the closeness and intimacy of the moment. Before you could deepen the kiss, he pulled back and said, "Come on, let's make up for some lost time, we could go down to that new mini golf place."

You pulled him back down and replied, "Or we could stay here and make up for the lack of morning sex today."

His eyes widened slightly at your bluntness, "Yes-yeah-we could- we could do that."

You giggled at his slightly flushed face and connected your lips once again.

"Wait! You still haven't deleted that guy's number." he exclaimed as he pulled back from you.

"Ohhh well he was never real." you replied as you shrugged lightly.

Lando blinked in surprise at your revelation, confusion crossing his features. "What do you mean he wasn't real?" he asked, his tone tinged with curiosity.

You couldn't help but chuckle at his reaction. "I made him up to mess with you," you confessed, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

His expression shifted from confusion to amusement, and then to mock indignation. "You are such a muppet," he exclaimed, squeezing your sides.

"Yeah, yeah." you replied while playfully rolling your eyes. "Now keep kissing me Norris."

"Don't have to ask me twice baby." He grinned before leaning down and capturing your lips together.

more notes: yes i am aware the ending is awful but i wrote this during the suzuka gp and i was stressed enough with that. goodnight. (also just reached 800 followers WOOO thanks guys🥹)

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#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfic #f1 x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris smau #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #ln4 #f1 fanfic #mclaren formula 1 #mclaren #lando norris imagines #lando fluff #lando x reader

[httpsserene]

hey can I request something that’s angsty to fluff and then smut for Oscar where reader gets a ton of hate for dating Oscar so she kind of ghosts him for a bit and they figure things out

𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐢 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐰/𝐨𝐩𝟖𝟏

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: oscar really just wants to hear you laugh again. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. angst. fluff. happy ending. reader is exhausted physically and mentally. reader's internal monologue is not not nice. bad eating habits. bad sleeping habit. self-deprecation. don't worry she's back on her bs at the end. reader neglects herself (?) and her relationship. implied self-sabotage. people are mean. don't worry oscar is meaner. oscar piastri is a good boyfriend. emotional hurt/comfort. tenderness. intimacy. baths and pampering. crying (non-sexy). implied sex. implied bath sex. logan and lando as plot devices. no beta we die like my will to live during finals. 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 5.1k words. 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: oscar piastri x fem!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot w/ blurbs. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: best i ever had • drake

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: sorry it took me so long, i've changed this fic like multiple times :/ hope it fulfills you request properly :))) this is not my favorite thing in the world, i feel like if i went on a smaller scale i would've enjoyed this more but what can you do. this is also not very black reader coded? idk but feel like it's lacking there. i also apologize for my inability to write an oscar fic without including lando, he's such a willing plot device though even if he's a little ooc. i also couldn't find the mental space to write smut but there's smth for you at the end. dedicated to us women in stem! i hope you have fun reading this because i didn't have fun writing it :)

sumbit a request | join the taglist | table of contents | next ↻

oscar is worried. you haven’t responded to his texts for a week, he hasn’t seen your face for two weeks, and he hasn’t heard your voice for three weeks. four weeks ago, you told him you wouldn’t be able to fly out to see him at the austin grand prix, like you promised. you sounded exhausted and incredibly guilty when you explained that your course load this semester is extreme, and finals are rapidly approaching. oscar understood; he won’t ask you to sacrifice your education for one of his races, there will be plenty you can come to in the future. what he doesn’t understand is how you’re still functioning. it’s your senior year of university at an american ivy league school, you're pursuing an engineering degree, and you’re also working nearly five days a week as a barista. oscar thinks the last time he’s seen you relaxed is before your fall semester started, you spent your entire summer break with him, making appearances at the only three races you’ve been to this season (silverstone, hungary, and spa). the last time he recalls seeing your smile and hearing your laugh is in august—it’s the end of october now. 

you’ve been ghosting him. oscar wants to believe that it’s unintentional, that it’s just a side effect of the amount of work and pressure on your shoulders—but he can’t accept that. if you were unintentionally missing his calls, facetimes, and texts, you’d spam respond to all of them with a voice message or paragraphs of texts before you went to bed or class. you would send him daily or weekly recap videos of how life is treating you, like you used to do. you would send him stupid videos of you messing around on your shifts during a pause of customers. you would send him thirty reels a day on instagram of brain dead shenanigans with little captions of how you reacted, or if you thought it would make him smile. you would send him fit checks every morning before you went to class, even though your outfit consists of a hoodie and sweatpants. you would send him tiktok edits of himself and tell him that he needs to stop being ‘so hot’ because you almost barked in the middle of class. you would ask him how he’s doing, you would respond to his texts the minute you could even if it's hours late, you would leave him voicemails if he doesn’t pick up, you would make an attempt to communicate. 

except, you haven’t. so, he knows that you ignoring him is intentional, and that your lifestyle right now makes it easier for you to disguise your avoidance of him as accidental. 

you didn’t say ‘i love you’ back. 

“mate, what are you frowning for?” oscar jumps, eyes flying up from the phone screen and meeting lando’s. the brit is staring at him in confusion, the two of them are still in their race suits, tied around their waists. the sprint race ended an hour ago, and they’ve just finished celebrating oscar’s win.

“you’ve won a race, oscar—what could possibly make you sad after that?” lando says teasingly. but, the smile on his face is quick to fade as he must see oscar’s dejected mood.

the australian debates his next move for a moment, before deciding that telling lando isn’t a bad idea; they’ve been getting closer—they’re friends, oscar would say. he sighs, and hands his phone to lando, maybe he’ll tell oscar he’s worrying over nothing.

“oh,” lando says, eyes widening, “i’m sorry, mate.”

oscar brushes off lando’s words, and buries his face in his hands, “she’s pulling away from me. that was five days ago, and she hasn’t answered any of my calls. she’s only responded to my texts since then with one word answers or very dryly. she’s ghosting me.”

oscar feels lando fumbling for words, not needing to look at him to know that the older man has no idea how to go about reassuring oscar.

“look, mate, if it were me i’d go see her anyways.”

oscar huffs, “she literally said she doesn’t have time.”

“oscar,” lando stares at him in disbelief, “she hasn’t seen you in two months. i guarantee she’s probably dying to see you again, fuck whatever time she doesn’t have. she also can’t ghost you, if you see her face to face. you should go and try to fix whatever’s wrong, before you let her slip away.”

“maybe…maybe she’s just burnt out,” oscar suggests shakily, “i’ll go see her after the triple header–i’m probably just overreacting about this. she’ll be back to her usual self in time.”

oscar is enraged. he’s pissed off at his fans for attacking you in a sick twist of ‘defending him,’ ‘protecting him’ and the supposed ‘ownership’ they think they have over him. he’s pissed off at you deciding to ghost him instead of confiding in him about the hate you receive. he’s pissed off that his flight to you has been delayed for four hours. he’s pissed off at his race in brazil, if you can even call what happened a race. he’s pissed off at the fact that you can’t make time to see him before vegas. he’s pissed off that you lied to him about picking up extra shifts at the cafe.

he stalked through your instagram the minute after he was allowed to escape debrief, hunting down your roomates accounts from where you’ve tagged them in an older post. he innocently made a group message to the two girls, figuring it would be kind and proper to inform them of his impending arrival to surprise you. and the two girls you shared an apartment with responded eagerly to his message telling him that you’ve been extremely stressed and almost depressed this semester, and that hopefully his appearance will break through to you in a way they are unable to. oscar asked them if they knew your work schedule for the week, since you never told him when you're working–and learned that you lied. you didn’t accept any extra shifts, matter of fact, you got all of your shifts covered for the next two weeks. apparently, all you have been doing is going to class, working, studying furiously, and crying. when he asks if there’s any reason besides the stress from work and school that has you crying, the girls decline to speak for you, and strongly suggest that he asks you himself when he arrives. 

oscar’s no longer pissed at you for lying to him or for ghosting him–he’s hurt, but, he already understands your motive. you don’t want to worry him, so you bottle it up and distance yourself to not make him aware of how you're struggling. he won’t let you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders alone anymore, he’s going to see you and he’s going to take care of you, and then he’ll sort out the ignorant people on the internet.

when he’s at your apartment, you’ll be coming home from your last shift before your time off. and then, once he has you in his arms, he can make everything right again.

your hands are shaking; a result from the mix of stress and exhaustion that has been plaguing you for a few weeks. it takes you four and a half attempts to unlock the front door to your apartment—this is an improvement, yesterday it took you six times. a trembling sigh of relief exits your lungs as you shut the front door, triple checking that you lock the door properly. you remove all of your outerwear and slip out of your shoes, half-heartedly making an attempt to neatly place them in the organizer you have by the door. (you fail to register how there’s only two pairs of shoes stored away; yours and a pair of shoes that look too big to be one of the girls you live with—the usual sneakers the girls wear are nowhere to be seen.) you grunt as you tenderly put on your backpack and slowly make your way into the kitchen, off-handedly murmuring a “hi,” in the direction of the living room since you can hear the tv playing, but you don’t even spare a glance to see which roommate it is—you can’t stomach anymore human interaction today.

your walk is more of a waddle; your legs and feet are sore from working nine-hour shifts five days in a row, and also from going to class four out of those five days. you place your backpack on the small island, and continue to gently meander towards the fridge. your stomach aches at the thought of food—which is unfortunate, considering you’ve only had one meal today. regardless, you will shove a sandwich down your throat, you need the energy if you’re going to study for three hours before you go to bed. 

you pause before you open the fridge, a note is stuck on the door with a magnet. your roommates are gone; the two girls have spontaneously decided to go spend the weekend with their boyfriends—you’re not going to complain, you have the apartment to yourself. a brief wave of loneliness washes over you, you were kind of looking forward to venting about the week you had to the girls in the morning, and also, couldn’t they have texted you this earlier today? who leaves old-fashioned notes on the fridge anymore? you pull out your phone to send a text in your group chat wishing them a nice weekend, and see that they did, in fact, text you that they would be gone—three days ago. and, you never responded, because you never saw it. you shrug, and send the text anyways, you’ve been incredibly busy and you’re bound to miss a few texts (especially the eighteen texts from oscar that remain unopened). 

you're just going through a little bit of a slump, and you’ve had a bad day. you accidentally messed up three orders today (out of the hundred you fulfilled, so three isn’t really terrible), your running off of four hours of sleep (you’re more energized when you sleep less, anyways), and a customer accidentally bumped into you as you were walking to bring coffee to a table, causing the hot liquid to spill and burn a little spot on the back of your hand by your thumb. well, you know it wasn’t purely accidental, as the girl giggled to the group of friends she was with after she “bumped” into you. based on the way she was wearing a mclaren hoodie, you can make several guesses as to why she did it—you’re kind of shocked that she noticed you even though you wear a mask at work (you have for about a month, too many fans have noticed who you are), her hate for a relationship that’s not hers should be studied for science. 

incidents like these have made your coworkers start to…dislike you. the decrease in tips when you’re assigned to the register causes you to be forced to be hidden behind coffee machines the entire shift, only making drinks the entire nine hours you’re there. it’s better for you though, at least you can have a physical barrier blocking the prying eyes you feel are judging you the entire time. if anything, the recent atmosphere at work made you want to put in your two weeks—but, you have bills to pay. you’re just glad you managed to find a way to get two weeks off so you can focus on school and prepare for your exams—you can’t afford to fail, it’ll cost your scholarship and then you’ll need more than the job you have right now to finish school.

the buzzing of your phone pulls you back to the present—oscar’s calling. you squeeze your eyes shut for a few seconds, before you blink and silence the ringer. if you speak to him, you won’t be able to hide your troubles from him any longer; he reads you as easily as a kid’s picture book. he definitely doesn’t need to deal with your problems after whatever the hell happened in brazil. the noise of your phone startled you into a new thought, however. if the girls aren’t in the apartment, why the fuck is the tv on? who did you greet when you walked past the main room without a glance?

“i was calling to tell you that i’ve got takeout from the asian restaurant you like, if you’re looking for something to eat,” oscar says gently.

it’s a testament to how extremely exhausted you are: you don’t scream, you don’t fight, you don’t run—you just flinch slightly, and turn around slowly to face your boyfriend…the man you’ve been avoiding for nearly a month. at the sight of him (his fluffy hair, his soft sweater, the confused and concerned glint in his eyes) your lip starts quivering, and your eyes start watering. oscar’s gaze softens into something sweet yet empathic, and he says, “i know it’s been a while since we’ve last talked, but i didn’t think you’d cry at the sight of me.”

you burst into tears with a sob, and in a second oscar’s got you wrapped up in his arms, one hand soothingly massaging your back, while the other cradles your head on his shoulder. your borderline hyperventilating, your tears have started to soak his sweater, and you’re sniffling every two seconds to avoid getting snot on him too. oscar doesn’t try to quiet your tears, he doesn’t ask about what’s making you cry, he doesn’t even try to tell you that everything will be fine—he just holds you as you cry it out and presses kisses into your hair. eventually, the flow of tears dries and you focus on pulling in shaky breaths of air to calm down. oscar switches to holding you to his chest with one arm while he uses the free one to reach across the counter and grab a tissue. wordlessly, he wipes the wetness off your cheeks and under-eyes, he even uses another tissue to wipe your nose, clearing away the snot that managed to escape. you almost start crying again at the tender treatment and the matching look in his eyes, but you muster enough strength to keep the happy tears from falling over the waterline. 

oscar nods once, deeming his cleanup complete, and clears his throat, “i’m going to heat up the food. then, we’ll eat and you’ll tell me what’s wrong and if that has anything to do with why you’re ignoring me.”

there’s no attempt from you to keep the façade up any longer, all you do is nod and step to the side so he can grab the food from the fridge.

oscar has already cleared his plate and you’re still picking through half of yours. the two of you are sitting on opposite ends of the couch, teen wolf is playing on a low volume, and your eyes are tunneled on the screen even though oscar can see that you’re not paying attention at all. one of the characters is screaming about having to get his arm cut off (stiles, probably) and suddenly you start talking to oscar.

“it’s been a shit semester. if i wasn’t graduating in spring, i honestly think i would’ve dropped out or taken a gap-year. and, i knew what i signed up for as an engineering major, and i knew that working was only going to add more on my plate—but, it’s not like i can quit my job, i have bills to pay. so, juggling school and work is difficult, and i was managing fine. but, i guess i made the mistake of scrolling through twitter—which is truly my fault i think—and everyone on the internet was calling me a ‘terrible girlfriend’,” oscar watches you scoff out a choked laugh, “and, i obviously didn’t believe i was. in the beginning, at least. i mean, it’s like they expected me to be at every race by your side, like i’m not working my way through a hellscape of a degree. i watched every practice session, qualifying, and race—they’re literally the only hours i don’t spend studying or working. i brag about you to everybody who would listen, i missed hours of sleep just to speak to you on the phone for five minutes, i work as hard as i can so i can finish this degree early so i can be with you as early as possible, and they say that you deserve a better girlfriend.”

you pause and rub at your eyes furiously, mouth opening and closing as you take time to find the words to continue. oscar quiets the flare of anger at your distress, and stays silent, not wanting to interrupt your speech, this is the most you’ve said to him in a month.

“the thing is: i-i i let their words get to me. i think it’s because i was being kicked while i was down—or whatever the phrase is. i was already mentally exhausted, and i already believe that i’m not doing my best this year, i’m disappointing everybody who knows me, i’m a shit student—and just seeing everybody agree, even though they’re just randoms on the internet, tore me down. i even deleted all of the apps off my phone,” your voice has shifted into something desperate, “so i couldn’t see what they were saying about me anymore, but it’s like once i saw it, it never left my mind. i feel like everybody is staring at me with condescending eyes, like they all think i’m terrible. and, logically, i know that’s probably not true. but, this semester has pushed me past the point of being able to rationalize properly. so as a result, i have become a ‘terrible girlfriend’ to you; like a twisted self-fulfilling prophecy.

“i avoid your calls, i leave you on delivered for days, i respond with one word, i lie to my friends and say i was up all night talking to you on the phone when i was really crying and studying at the same time, i hold back from bursting into tears in the middle of my shifts when one of your ‘fangirls’ spills their drink over me for the third time. and while doing all of this, i was hoping you’d do the hard part and just break up with me,” your voice rings out sharply and you refuse to look at your boyfriend, afraid to see the look on his face.

“because…” you whimper slightly, tongue flicking out to lick at your lips anxiously, “you do deserve a better girlfriend.”

oscar is lost for words at your conclusion; seeing you, one of the strongest women he knows break down, is a sight he never imagined. a sense of guilt builds within him, knowing that he’s added to the deprecating thoughts in your brain by postponing this intervention for weeks. you may think that he deserves someone better, but he hasn’t been the best to you either recently. if oscar was half the man you think he is, he would’ve never allowed you to avoid him in the first place. oscar stands up, collects your plate and his, and places them on the coffee table. he turns and drops to his knees in front of you, resting his hands on your thighs, and squeezes them gently to grab your attention. it takes a minute, but eventually you allow your eyes to fall to meet his, and oscar breaks further at the lack of light in your eyes.

“i think,” oscar starts quietly, “that you expect me to break up with you and leave—am i guessing correctly?”

you blink down at him and shrug, biting your lip to prevent it from quivering.

“i also think, that if i flew all this way to see you, and that if i listened to your heartbreaking recollection of how this semester and how the world has been incredibly unkind to you, and that if i sat here and still broke up you—it’s not me that deserves a better girlfriend; it’s you that deserves a better boyfriend.”

stunned, you stumble over your disagreement, but oscar steadfastly continues.

“you did the right thing by deleting your socials—and that would explain why all three hundred of the reels i’ve sent you have gone unseen,” he laughs lightly, “and even if their words took root, you prevented yourself from being able to see more of it every time you used your phone; so even if my pride is not needed, i am proud of you for doing that. i’m even more proud that you sat here and told me that you aren’t doing well, that you didn’t make an attempt to lie, and that i didn’t have to force you to tell me,” oscar says seriously, holding steady eye contact with you to make sure you're hearing him.

“i wish that you would have mentioned the hate you’re receiving as soon as it started, and that you would have told me your mental health was suffering too. you know i do everything in my power to avoid reading anything with my name in it unless it’s a credible article—so imagine my surprise, when i learned about what people were saying about you through a twitter thread logan, of all people texted me about,” you snort out a laugh at the feigned disdain in oscar’s voice when he mentions the american driver. 

“you know i have no issues embarrassing people on the internet for their incorrect claims—and i’d especially tear them to shreds for trying to drag you down. we’ve been together too long for you not to come to me about things like this, even if it’s something that mildly upsets you—i want to know, because then i can make it better, or i can at least try to. you haven’t complained to me about the grueling lifestyle once, as i worked my way up to f1; if anybody could be perfect, it would be you. so, let me try to be as perfect as you, and support you properly and thoroughly as you finish up this degree, baby.

“we’re soulmates, aren’t we?” it’s a question, but oscar states it like a fact, “and i know i can’t magically make the self-loathing disappear with one conversation, but i'll tell you that you’re the best girlfriend i’ve ever had countless times, until you believe me unquestionably.”

oscar watches your nose scrunch cutely as you sniffle, unable to stop the tears that leak from the corners of your eyes. sweetly, he catches them with his thumb before they fall. he stands up and tugs you to your feet, pulling you into a tight, warm hug. 

“i love you, kanga,” oscar coos as he kisses your forehead.

“i love you the most, roo,” you answer back, leaning up to press a kiss to the corner of his lips.

“i’ve bought some lavender epsom salt and an embarrassing amount of bath bombs. will you let me take care of you tonight?” oscar asks quietly.

he sees the mix of awed-disbelief and confusion as you stare up at him, like you can’t imagine why he’d want to love you tenderly tonight, and that hurts him more—the words of his ‘fans’ online have done enough damage to cause you to doubt him. maybe he can convince you to come to vegas with him so he can keep you close, but first, he needs to focus on caring for you here and now.

oscar grabs his duffle bag and smiles as you hold his hand to lead him to your room and the attached bathroom (rent is ridiculously expensive, but at least you don’t have to share a bathroom with your roommates.) oscar sends you to grab pajamas while he starts filling the tub, epsom salt already poured in. he fiddles with the temperature for a while before it’s set to the boiling-your-skin-off hot you enjoy. by the time you join him in the bathroom, he’s added the salts and soap in the water and has placed the bath bombs out for you to choose one. oscar can’t help the small smile that rises to his face at the sight of the serious furrow of your brow as you pick out your favorite from the bunch. 

oscar hums as you hand him the jade-infused bath bomb, and asks, “can i wash your hair too? or will it mess up your schedule?”

“i actually really need to wash it,” you murmur with a humorless chuckle, “i’ve been so busy that i haven’t been taking care of my hair properly.”

oscar blinks and continues non-judgmentally, “i’ll give you an extra scalp massage to make up for that—you can start getting undressed now, the water’s nearly ready.”

he turns around awkwardly, he’s seen you naked before but he feels like it would be slightly perverse to watch you while you’re clearly in a more sensitive state tonight. he fumbles with the faucet for a few seconds before turning it off, and drops the bath bomb into the water so it can start dispersing. oscar faces you again carefully making sure he avoids staring at your body and locks eyes with you, he beckons you forward with an outstretched hand and holds your hand as you submerge yourself in the water. once you’re settled comfortably, oscar grabs your hair products (he holds up any bottle he thinks you may not want to use tonight, and you give him a thumbs up or down to decide), and then kneels at your side.

he starts to roll up the sleeves of the hoodie but your hand halts his motions, the water splashing loudly at the quickness of your movement, “you’re not getting in with me?”

“uh,” oscar stutters, “i-i wasn’t planning on it. i just wanted to give you a nice bath.”

oscar pinkens as you stare at him wordlessly and when your unimpressed gaze shifts to a slight glare, he finds himself shedding his clothes and sinking in behind you at an impressive speed. 

his heart began to race as the two of you shifted into as comfortable of a position you could achieve in a too-small tub, but calmed at your pleased hum as you settled between his legs with your back resting on his chest. this may be the most romantic experience oscar has ever indulged in. sure, it’s not a candlelit dinner at an obnoxiously expensive restaurant but, it’s him detangling your hair, it’s him massaging shampoo into your crown, it’s him scratching softly along your scalp as the deep conditioner sits, it’s you playing with the water innocently, it’s you whispering every detail of your life that he’s missed out on, it’s you gently directing him through braiding your hair, and it’s him pressing kisses to your shoulder when he finishes. there isn’t a single moment where the two of you become unsettled during lapses of silence; the intimacy of his actions is loud enough to fill the gaps. oscar can’t imagine ever being this comfortable with anybody besides you, he hates that he almost allowed you to pull completely away from him. moments like these, where you allow yourself to be thoughtlessly vulnerable with him, are exactly why he’s completely enamored with you.

your body has loosened against him, muscles syrupy and lax from the effects of a toe-curling scalp massage, and oscar gently guides you to sit upright while steadying most of your weight with a single hand splayed against your abdomen. the sound of the cap of your body wash clicking open startles you into the present, and you shift around to straddle his lap. it’s amusing; he inaudibly chuckles at the sight of you struggling to complete your change of position without sending water over the edge. you make a triumphant noise when you’ve managed to turn around to face him, and oscar’s hands cradle your hips when you rest on his lap. 

“can i–”

“shouldn’t you–”

oscar bursts into laughter and you into giggles, at the interruption of each other's sentences. it’s definitely not that funny, but oscar’s heart skips a beat at the sound of your laugh–he hasn’t heard that sweet noise in what feels like forever. he motions for you to speak, ever the gentleman, and eagerly awaits for our question with a smile still stretched across his lips.

“shouldn’t you fuck me before we wash up? so we don’t have to clean up twice?”

oscar chokes on his breath, his grip on you tightening in surprise, and he babbles, “what? no-i mean, yes, i mean—wait. i didn’t do all of this just to have sex with you, you know that right? i genuinely just wanted to pamper you–”

“oscar,” you cut him off, intentionally this time around, “after the semester i’ve had, and the less than kind words i’ve heard and thoughts i’ve had describing myself–i really do appreciate the bath, i feel reminded that you love me. however, i really think that having sex would help…solidify your devotion for me.”

oscar blinks up at you, he wasn’t quite expecting you to return to your normal sassy behavior as quickly as you did. but, he is thankful that you’ve opened up to him with no further hesitation–it’s actually incredibly attractive of you, how you’ve resumed complete comfortability in expressing exactly what you want to him. at least, that’s the excuse he’s telling himself to cope with being half-hard already.

“...at least let me take you to bed, then?”

“no,” you whine down at him, your hips sneakily twitching forward, oscar moans lightly at the light grind, “too far! saves time later if we don’t have to come back to shower.”

“you’re right,” oscar hums distractedly, moving his right hand off your waist to slip between your thighs and brush along your cunt, “i’ll fuck you here as long as you let me do all of the work.”

oscar’s blood heats at the sound of your whimpering moan and he takes his other hand off your waist to grab at your chin and he pulls you down for a kiss.

oscar groans when you pause before your lips touch his, and he feels the breath of your giggle ghost over his mouth, “mmm, i’ll never say no to that—and, didn’t i agree to let you take care of me tonight?” 

taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorarri @inloveallthetime @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz

© httpsserene2023

#oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x female reader #oscar piastri x black!reader #oscar piastri x you #lando norris x reader #logan sergeant x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x black!reader #f1 x you #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 smut #oscar piastri smut #formula 1 x reader #f1 fluff #f1 fic #f1 fic rec #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #formula 1 x black!reader #serene’s chapters. #⋆⭒˚｡⋆. series special: formula 1 #♡ ༘*.ﾟ love interest: op.

[star-girl69]

Cherry Blossom

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader

—-

synopsis: headcanons about you and clarisse and your new adopted kid

a/n: idk inspiration strikes randomly but enjoy

Cherry Blossom - Lana Del Rey

warnings: not proofread, probs ooc clarisse but I DONT CARE I DO WHAT I WANT, swearing, mentions of violence and weapons, idk pretty chill, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

clarisse never really felt anything towards kids

sure some of them are cute

she likes her younger siblings, bc she gets a real kick out of being able to teach someone who ACTUALLY has talent

she wants a mini army of ares kids w her skill

she would DESTROY in capture the flag

but then along comes your little sibling ivy

even clarisse admits that that’s a cute kid

and you just LOVE this little baby

she has the same hair color and skin as you and yours just like omg my baby

she comes to camp when she’s like 10

bc her mortal parent has a new family and doesn’t rly want her anymore

she never really talks about it but you know that it hurts her

and then it’s like omg this adorable little baby needs a mom EYE will be her mom

clarisse is so confused as to why you love ivy so much

but you are DETERMINED

clarisse is trying to have a nice little date with you and then you walk over with ivy on your hip

she’s about to like explode

but one day you’re helping ivy get used to holding a sword and clarisse watches you from afar and she’s like OH MY GOD bc you are teaching her WRONG

so she marches over even tho she’s supposed to be doing something

“oh my god y/n y/n please i love you so much but STOP”

“what ☹️☹️”

“you are teaching her wrong just move over again i love you but MOVE OVER”

so then she teaches ivy just like the basic stances and ivy is like GOOD

you’re both impressed

but she just has a natural talent

and then all of a sudden clarisse is like oh yeah so this is my child and i would kill for her

ivy is the most spoiled camper at camp

like she always gets little baubles and things from the hephaestus kids you ask them to make and clarisse threatens them to make

you get her the BIGGEST piece of dessert every day

clarisse is a bit more bad cop tho

she’s not afraid to tell ivy to go do 20 push ups if she does smth wrong

and you’re just like “WHY ARE YOU TORTURING THE PRECIOUS BABY????”

it’s so funny bc you and clarisse will just be like tucking ivy in every night and it’s SO jarring bc clarisse is like “ok my little warrior have sweet dreams” and kissing her forehead

all of your siblings are confused but very happy!!!! ivy deserves loving parents even if they are two teenage girls

ivy is also the most popular and influential 10 year old at camp

like everyone knows her name and everyone knows to give her what she wants

there was this one day when some older camper accidentally bumped into her and bc she’s just a baby and so tiny (☹️❤️❤️) she got KNOCKED to the ground

and you’re like “OH MY GOD MY BABY”

and clarisse is like “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?” about to punch the guy and then ivy starts crying bc she skinned her knee and then clarisse is like WHAT

she throws the kid to the ground and she’s like freaking out

overprotective clarisse you can never escape her

so then you’re all like running off the infirmary and ivy is FINE like you and clarisse are just insane

and then one time another younger kid was being mean to ivy and you actually had to hold clarisse back from attacking this 12 year old

ivy definitely picks up her habits from the two of you

someone pisses her off and she will just start attacking them

clarisse is trying so hard not to be proud while you tell ivy that violence is not the answer

but then clarisse is like “OH WHO CARES Y/N THAT WAS SUCH A GREAT KICK AND AN EVEN BETTER PUNCH”

“CLARISSE NO”

the ONLY two people clarisse is affectionate with are you and ivy like ivy is always climbing her like a jungle gym bc clarisse is just so strong and can like do all these crazy things w her

clarisse will literally throw her up into the air really high and catch her

ivy fucking loves it

you have a heart attack

and now they have to do it in secret 💔

you always tuck ivy in together but let’s be real most nights ivy ends up in your bed

and clarisse is all pissed off

so she ends up sneaking into your cabin and your bed every night

like just a huge tangle of limbs and blankets and ivy snores but it’s not that loud and it’s adorable

like the ONE night clarisse didn’t sneak into your bed ivy had a nightmare and you were like oh no way

bc most nights clarisse comes in at like 11pm and you’re already asleep but you know she’s there and you wake up next to her so

but you wake up to comfort ivy and you’re like WHERE THE FUCK IS CLARISSE

and then ivy realizes CLARISSE IS NOT THERE

it’s like some super dramatic scene in a movie you wrap up ivy in a blanket and come into the area cabin and start berating clarisse

“do you just hate us? bc it is ONE THIRTY THREE in the morning and you are NOT in my bed and poor ivy had a nightmare and you WERE NOT THERE”

clarisse is like looking at you like what

half of her siblings are awake and just watching this crying child you’re holding cross her arms and shake her head disapprovingly and clarisse is not even awake yet

“baby idek what you’re saying just come lay down”

“yes but we’re talking about this in the morning”

“…okay”

of course all is forgiven the next morning after a nice sleep

there was this one night you were at the campfire and then ivy just found some random person’s dagger? and she’s like

“y/n!!! clarisse!!! look what i found!!!!”

“what do you have?”

“a knife!!!!”

“NO”

like that one meme y’all know

and then you have to chase her down

clarisse gives her a very blunt sort of dagger thing to play with and ivy is very happy

it’s so weird bc clarisse is like yk being all grumpy and mean and then ivy or you walks around and she’s like AHHHHHH MY LOVES

also when percy shows up he’s so confused

like the scene where she pushes him over you walk over with ivy and then ivy literally JUMPS from your arms to clarisse’s bc she knows she’ll catch her

and then clarisse is like “omg hi my little warrior how is your day?”

“OH MY GOD I THREW A ROCK REALLY HIGH I’M SO STRONG”

you’re like “no seriously it was like 10 feet high”

“omg baby that’s so amazing i’m so proud of you”

then everyone around you is like “oh wow ivy that’s so amazing you are so strong”

bc ivy is just an adorable baby and also bc they don’t want to incur clarisse’s wrath

she don’t PLAY about ivy’s happiness

percy is ????

then clarisse is like “oh isn’t that so funny my 10 year old baby can throw a rock higher than you probably can”

PERCY IS ??????

that’s all i got y’all

in conclusion ivy is just your perfect little angel princess

and you and ivy are the lights of clarisse’s life

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader #clarisse and ivy and y/n: the perfect family

[runningfrom2am]

leveling the playing field XII

summary: with nowhere else to go after getting caught cheating to help lucy gray, you both make some desperately stupid decisions.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.2k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). use of a derogatory term (pr*stitute) implications and mentions of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there. oh, and manipulation (both of them lowkey)

masterlists // nav // requests

a/n: nothing much to say other than thank you guys and i hope you like it :)

series masterlist

"Coryo!" You grin, running out of the house and down the front porch steps, throwing your arms around his shoulders as soon as you can reach him. It had only been a few days since you'd seen him, but you had to do what you had to do. Truth be told, you did miss him, though.

He chuckles as he catches you, carefully letting you down after a moment. "Hey, Y/N/N, how's it going?"

"I'm good." You grin, turning back at the sound of people laughing inside the house. "You have to come in to meet Ash. He's gonna come with us today, and Lucy Gray is packing a picnic! It's gonna be so fun."

"Who?" Coriolanus asks, but you're already gone, heading back up to the house. An uneasy feeling settles in his gut as he follows you, shoving his hands into his pockets as he enters the home. The kids are trying to gather things into bags, and Lucy Gray is packing some food to bring with the group out to the meadow.

You, on the other hand, are wrapped around the arm of a boy who looks like he belongs in the Capitol Zoo. "Coryo, this is Ash. We met at the Hob the other night." You explain, looking between the two of them as Coriolanus clenches his jaw.

"Nice to meet you." He says through gritted teeth, reaching out out of habit to shake the boy's hand. He's got dark hair, and somehow darker eyes. Immediately, he doesn't trust him.

"You too, man. Love the peacekeeper getup." He chuckles, shaking his hand briefly and Coryo quickly recoils to wipe his hand on his pants.

"Oh, Coryo is a peacekeeper." You explain, smiling up at Ash as he drapes an arm around your waist.

"We're in the business of trusting those monsters now?" Ash asks, somehow maintaining a lighthearted tone. Like it was a joke, like Coriolanus was nothing more than his position.

"Only a couple." You laugh, shocking Coryo completely. Not so much as a word in his defense while this district trash said such horrible things about him. He was back to not even being able to recognize you. "Coryo is my best friend. We've known each other since we were kids. Sejanus too."

Best friend... That's it?

"That makes sense then." Ash nods, and Coryo stands up taller as Ash not so subtly sizes him up.

"You know, Sejanus has been awfully chummy with Billy Taupe and his friends. Ash is one of them." You say to Coryo quietly, taking up the rear of the Covey as all of you walk out to the meadow behind the house. "Have you noticed?"

He hums in acknowledgment, thinking it over. "It is odd." He agrees. He has noticed your mutual friend sneaking away on any nights out they could spare, and just generally being more cagey than usual. And it makes more sense that his name would mean anything to your new friend.

"Have you asked him about it?"

"No." He shakes his head. "You should, though. He trusts you more."

"That's not true." You laugh. "You are his best friend, after all."

"As are you." He raises an eyebrow at you.

"Oh, please. He throws that term around too loosely." You roll your eyes playfully.

"And you don't?" He asks, obviously referring to how you called him your best friend earlier. It's working. This was evidence that referring to him that way was driving him crazy- you had him wrapped around your finger, and you loved the feeling.

"Nope." You grin, bumping him with your shoulder. "Have I told you the haircut is really working for you? Because it is."

"Thank you. It wasn't by choice." He explains, smiling at the compliment but shrugging it off.

"I figured." You laugh, reaching up to run your hand over his shaved head. "I miss your curls, though..."

"Y/N! Come here!" Ash calls from up ahead, walking backward now as he waves for you to join him.

"Coming!" You call back, immediately ditching Coryo to catch up with him.

Coryo cringes at how his boots sink into the dirt and how you let Ash yell at you like that. Like you were a dog. You'd hardly known the guy for a few days and he's already talking down to you, Coryo is appalled at your taste. You run up to Ash, immediately reaching up and sticking your hand in his unbrushed hair. If Coryo was a brunette and didn't shower ever, that's probably what his hair would look like. It made him nauseous.

The following night, after Coriolanus complained endlessly to you about the birds he had to spend most of his days trapping, you had a stroke of absolute genius. He really, really hates those birds, just as much as you can tell he already hates Ash.

As the sun is setting over the field surrounding the hanging tree, you tell Lucy Gray you're going for a walk, and off you go into the woods with only your mind to keep you company.

They'd set so many traps it was unbelievable, and a good amount had trapped some of the songbirds inside. They were beautiful creatures, timid, too, for birds who were typically so vocal. They were products of the Capitol, so that would only make sense. You were careful not to make a sound as you opened every trap you could reach. You could just hope that by the time Coryo and his group arrived in the morning, they hadn't been trapped again.

You knew this was likely considered treason, interfering with government projects, but you didn't have a whole lot to lose, and seeing the frustration on Coryo's face when he ranted about how stubborn these birds were made the risk well worth it. It wasn't the revenge you were used to doling out to people who had wronged you, but you had been working on changing, after all.

After setting free no less than twenty birds that blew your hair back out of your face as they shot out of their cages, occasionally thanking you by singing your footsteps back to you or clawing at your arms, you made your way back to the street to head back to Lucy Gray's home.

You sucked your teeth over the stinging in your skin from the small cuts and scrapes that nnow littered your forearms. You suddenly understood why Coriolanus hated the creatures. They were beautiful singers, but clearly so inconsiderate. They'd be trapped again anyways, you were just delaying the inevitable to piss off your friend. They got scratches on you, but your people would still win the war.

You lift the excess fabric of your skirt to pat the beading and drying blood off of your arms as you walk. The town was quiet, only a few people scattered around very rarely. Either homeless or drunk, minding their business as you silently made your way down the dimly lit streets toward the seam. You recognize you're almost home when you pass the Hob, through the alley where Coriolanus graced you with his subpar apology. Squinting toward that same back exit as the door creaks open, you move across the alley to hug the opposite wall as you walk, trying to mind your business.

"Yeah, okay. I'll arrange for that. Thank you, yeah. We'll work it out. I promise." Was that... Sejanus? Your theory is confirmed when the speaker steps out into the alley. It was quiet, a weeknight. If the Hob had been open, it was deadly quiet by this hour.

"Sejanus?" You call out, speaking without thinking.

The boy jumps, slamming the door behind himself and looking toward you quickly. "Y/N? What are you doing here?" You can see the panic in his eyes as you get closer, tucking your bloody and exposed arms behind your back.

"Just out for a walk. I wanted to look at the stars." You nod up to the unpolluted and clear sky to accentuate your point. The sky didn't look like this at home. "What about you?"

"Oh! Uh, same." He lies. "It sure is beautiful out tonight."

"It is." You agree, looking up at the stars for a beat while you cross your arms over your chest in the silence. "Who were you talking to?"

As he panics you try and tuck your arms back once more, the stinging of movement reminding you of why you hid them in the first place. "Just, uh, no one. Myself."

You hum in response. Sejanus made his fake story hard to believe. "Why don't you trust me?" You ask, tilting your head at him. "I feel like after all we've been through, you should trust me more."

"I do trust you." He replies quickly. "It's less about that, more about... I don't want you to get involved. It's better for you."

"Is Coriolanus involved?"

"No. No, he doesn't know anything. Same as you."

You nod slightly, looking him up and down. "Well... If you need help or you're in a tough spot, come to us, okay? There are few people you can trust out here. We have to have each other's backs."

"No, no, it's not like that." He assures you. "But okay. If I need help, I'll ask."

You smile. "Well, you better get back. Don't want to get caught out so late."

"You too, Sage."

You chuckle, giving him a quick wave as you walk back away from him.

Even in the dim lighting, he could see the marks across your arm that you tucked away with your turn, sauntering away casually in the direction of your current home on the Seam.

Coriolanus was walking a beat alongside the market almost a week later, the one his bunkmate usually took, but today he was too hungover to crawl out of bed. Coryo didn't have the stomach to watch you drool all over that district boy today, so he decided to just take the shift for his new friend instead of bothering to see you. Maybe, this would result in Beanpole owing him a favour anyway, and that was always nice to have.

It was a Thursday, so not all that busy at the market. It was mostly just mother's gathering food and supplies, which left him incredibly bored for most of the morning. He was wallowing in his self-pity when something finally drew his attention. Your laugh. He would know it anywhere. He scans the street again, posture straight as he tries to track you down, which doesn't take long.

Of course, there you are with your new friend, his arm over your shoulder as you hold his hand against your chest. God, Coriolanus hopes you don't spot him. He looks straight ahead, chewing on the inside of his cheek and wishing he could disappear. You were torturing him, the fact that you couldn't see that, or you just didn't care, was driving him insane. It was worse than if you had just stayed in the Capitol.

Now, he can't help but focus on your voice on the mostly quiet street.

"No, I know!" You giggle, looking sideways at Coriolanus who stood at the edge of the street. You're sure by now he had seen you. You didn't know he would be here, normally he wouldn't, but it makes the task of agreeing to spend time with Ash more bearable. At least it was for a reason. "I've never touched a mandolin before, how could they expect me to pick it up in one night?"

"Well, I'd sure be surprised if you could. No one learns that fast." Ash replies, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. You hate it, you want to shove him off and hit him where it hurts, but you can't. At least Coryo was here to witness it.

"True." You nod, walking with him slowly past the stalls, browsing at some of the small trinkets and goods they had. It seemed to be all random things, which was foreign to you. Back home, every store had a purpose, even after the war the Capitol held onto this sophistication. "This is so pretty!" You smile, spinning out from under his arm to get a closer look at a dress someone had made. It was shorter than your skirt, typically one that would be worn by a child in this region, but it was oversized enough that you could wear it and it would land mid-thigh.

"How much is this?" You ask the woman sitting behind the wooden table, holding up the dress that she had clearly made.

"Forty." She answers, nodding to you. "It's steep, but I put a lot of work into it. It'll last your daughter a long time."

"Oh, no." You giggle, shaking your head. "I was thinking for me." You say, lifting part of the fabric to admire the stitches.

"For you?" Ash asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Yes, what do you think?" You reply, holding it up in front of you. "I like the red accents. It's beautifully made."

"You'll look like a damn prostitute," Ash replies without missing a beat. "That's what I think."

You bite your lip, face going red as you look down at it draped against your body. You're not sure if it's from anger or embarrassment. You sigh, folding it up again and turning to the woman who looks shocked. "I'll take it." You smile suddenly, placing it back down while you dig out some cash from your pocket, handing her fifty. "And don't worry about making change, I just hate carrying coins around."

"Thank you, dear. You enjoy." She smiles gratefully, taking the money and tucking it away in her pocket. You nod at her, and before you even turn around with the new dress under your arm you feel a firm grip on your skin, yanking you away from the stall and into a side street.

"Hey! Let me go!" You shout, trying to peel Ash's grip from your arm where it's digging in so tight it's already flushing the areas and opening your healed scratches from the birds, smearing the drops of blood across your skin.

"No, you listen to me." He says, dropping your arm in favour of pointing a finger right in your face as you're backed up against the wall. "If you're gonna be my girl, I'm not letting you walk around like some kind of whore. Do you understand?" He says, clearly fumingly angry by now.

You laugh, rolling your eyes. "You don't scare me, you're a district-born loser with no fucking job! How dare you try and tell me what to do with my-"

You're cut off when he smacks you. You take a shaky breath, instinctively holding the side of your face where his palm made contact. You feel your confidence faltering with the heat pulsing under your skin, and with your eyes closed in this back alley, suddenly you're back home. But you're not. You're not home, and he's not your father, and here, you're free. You're gonna kill him.

You open your eyes and stand up straighter, looking him dead on as your chest heaves with anger. You shove him back, pulling your arm back in his moment of shock to take a proper swing at him as he scrambles to push you back up against the wall. In your rage, you failed to account for the fact that he was much bigger than you.

"Hey! Back off her! Now!" Coriolanus shouts, clicking the safety off his gun before Ash can lay another hit on you, gun aimed unwaveringly at the boy as he quickly walks toward the two of you.

Ash panics, and you feel this as the forearm he had pressed up against your throat, pinning you to the wall loosened its hold and you shoved him off just in time for Coryo to push his way between the two of you, the barrel of his gun now inches from Ash's nose.

He raises his hands in surrender. "Hey, we're cool. I didn't do nothin' to her."

Coriolanus is fighting every urge to just pull the trigger on the loaded weapon in his hands. For you. For this asshole hurting you, for touching you, for the crime of even looking at you, he should do it. He breathes heavily, every muscle in his jaw constricted so tightly he's sure it'll ache for weeks.

You watch over your friend's shoulder, watching the gears turning in his head. Do it, you want to tell him, but even in your anger you can see that's irrational, so you keep your mouth shut.

Coryo sighs, lowering his weapon to use it to gesture to the street. "Get out of here." He mumbles, deciding to let him go. "And never so much as look at her again, understand?" You're almost a little disappointed as Ash spits on the ground at your feet, starting to walk away when Coryo turns the gun faster than you can process and jabs the butt end of it into Ash's face. A chilling crack echoes out against the crumbling walls surrounding you and he hits the ground, unconscious with an obviously broken nose.

Coryo is panting as he turns back to you, quickly throwing the gun back over his shoulder. "Are you okay?" He asks, reaching out and holding your shoulders, hands running down your arms quickly to look over the injuries. "Did he do this to you?" He looks over the scattered cuts and scratches. He could tell they were healing, and they were inconsistent with what could be done with a blade or a man-made weapon, so he deducts quickly that you must have fallen into the wrong bush or something. Maybe when you were gardening.

You shake your head quickly, eyes locked on the boy on the ground.

"Hey, no, look at me. Are you okay?" Coryo asks again, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him. He nods expectantly, waiting for you to answer.

"Yes. Fine." You whisper shamefully, giving a slight nod under his gentle hold.

"C'mere..." He mutters, pulling you closer to hug him. He sighs, holding the back of your head and gently smoothing down your hair. It shocks him when you start to shake, trying to muffle your crying in the fabric of his uniform. He shouldn't have waited so long. He took his eyes off you for less than a minute to maintain his own sanity, and this is what happened.

You knew you were safe with Coryo, this was your fault for straying from that over some petty anger. He had betrayed you, sure, but he told you it was because he only wanted to help. If you had listened, none of this would have happened. You should have known he was right. At least he hadn't abandoned you, he'd even saved you. You were lucky he was even around.

"He hit me." You sniff through sobs, gripping tightly onto the back of his grey uniform. "I didn't, I don't know why, I-"

"Hey, hey, hey..." Coryo shushes you, pressing his lips to the top of your head. "I've got you. You're safe now. I'm here."

"I'm sorry..." You sniff, overtaken by the foolishness of your own decisions. For denying your feelings for him in a way that only resulted in hurting the both of you.

Coryo has to fight back a smile as he takes in the familiar scent of your hair. "Don't be." He whispers, kissing your head. "I'll always protect you."

You nod against his chest, locking yourself firmly into his grasp. Even as your blood dried and stuck to his coldly grey uniform, you found it hard to let him go.

taglist: @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @klplynn , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @gloryekaterina , @andrewgarfieldsbitch , @queenofspades6 , @pepperonipastas , @ladybug0095 , @lunamothwrites , @sbrewer21 , @mus-tbe-a-weasley , @splxtscreen , @unclecrunkle , @karmaswitch , @coconut-dreamz , @nekee-lilac02 , @ooooglymoooogly , @riddlerloveb0t , @lovedbalances , @notyourwildestdream , @snowlandson-top , @too-lit-for-fanfic , @utopiakys , @deafeningballoonnacho , @roosterschanelslut , @chmpgneprblem , @cosmoetik , , @urvampgfsworld , @carolanns-world @nan-nie , @shakespearseclipse , @iovemoonyy , @notyoursweetheart-honey ,  @xyzstar , @eatpizzasass, @slytherinholland , @queenofshinigamis , @elodiebeau , @soulessjourney

i've closed my taglist for coryo now!! sorry to everyone who wanted to be added, but unfortunately there was significantly more demand than i expected and i sadly just can't tag everyone. BUT! if you still want notifications when i post for this fic, please turn on my post notifs!!

#tbosas #tbosas x reader #ballad of songbirds and snakes #thg series #tbosas fic #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #the hunger games

[petertingle-yipyip]

SO LONG LONDON - STEVEN GRANT

Pairing: steven x reader (established) (and then marc shows up)

Word Count: 2,489

Summary: Dating Steven was always a bit of a gamble. So when a beautiful woman comes to town claiming your boyfriend as her husband, you find a whole new side to the man you love.

//honestly idk what happened here, just go with it//

It made no sense.

You two were scheduled together all the time. Donna claimed it was the only way to make sure Steven actually showed up to his shifts. And for the most part, it worked. Occasionally, you two would have a day or two different and he wouldn’t show or would be ridiculously late. But you were usually able to explain it away to your manager so Steven wouldn’t get in trouble.

But now, it has been three straight days of Steven pulling no-calls-no-shows. Even when you tried to call him, it went straight to voicemail. Like his phone wasn’t even on.

You were walking around the city that day after work. You picked up some lunch and were looking at your phone, contemplating whether or not you wanted to try calling out texting him again, but the sharp whizz of a woman on a moped cut you off.

You stopped so suddenly in your tracks that your phone fell from your hands as you scrambled to catch your food.

“I’m so sorry!” The woman said quickly, suddenly in front of you with your phone in hand. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” You shrugged it off and held a hand out for your phone. She went to pass it back to you but her eyes lingered on your screen where Steven’s contact photo was waiting.

“It was my fault for not looking.” You tried while she quietly stared at the screen. Your fingers hooked on your device and with a slight tug, you got it back.

“I’m Layla, by the way.” She said when you had moved to leave.

“Y/N.” You nodded. “Nice to meet you.” You tried to leave again but she spoke up.

“Boyfriend?”

“What?”

“The guy on your phone.” She gestured to your hand where your phone still sat. As subtle as possible, your thumb hit the lock button to hide the photo that was still waiting. “Is that your boyfriend?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “He’s M.I.A. right now so I’m starting to worry. Normal girlfriend things, y’know? He’s a bit of a sleepwalker so…” You finished awkwardly.

“Would you…” She began and your brows raised. “Would you wanna get some coffee maybe? I think we should talk some more.”

“Oh, well.. Thank you but I should get home. I’m like three missed calls away from a missing persons report.” You tried to joke.

“It’s just that your boyfriend looks an awful lot like my husband.”

“What?” Your heart sunk.

“Yeah, uh..” She hurried to pull her phone from her bag. “My husband, Marc Spector. Maybe you’ve heard his name? He comes and goes for work but then I got a call and now I’m here trying to find him.”

“Oh!” You sighed in relief. “Okay, it’s probably a coincidence because my boyfriend’s name is.. Steven… Gra…”

Your sentence trailed off as Layla showed you her screen and a photo of her and someone who looked exactly like Steven faced you. His posture was different and you assumed his aura was as well. His hair was styled differently and he even wore different clothes than Steven would. Too similar to ignore but too different to convince you.

“Wow, um, that resemblance really is… Y’know what, maybe we should get some coffee.” You agreed.

After a while of you two talking, neither of you were convinced the other person was talking about the same person. Layla’s ‘Marc’ seemed to have a completely different personality than Steven. He seemed rougher, insufferable even. To be able to completely abandon your wife with no explanation was borderline appalling, and Steven would never. He hardly even went to run errands without giving you a full list of everywhere he intended to go.

As far as you could tell, the only similarity was their looks.

You offered to bring her to Steven’s apartment to show her that he was a different person with a different life. But when you knocked, your usual habit just in case he was home, he actually answered the door.

“Hello, Love.” He smiled at you, though the expression quickly faded when he saw yours. “Something wrong?”

“Steven, this is Layla. Layla, Steven.” You introduced before she had pushed past you both and into the apartment.

Steven looked at you in confusion but you smiled in apology with a small shrug. He stepped aside and gestured for you to come in so you did. Layla was investigating the small space and Steven was staying close to your side. You could feel his fingers tapping the back of your hand, his silent request to interlock your fingers together, but you put your hands in your jacket pocket instead.

“This is your flat, Marc?” She asked and you were thankful someone finally spoke to break the tension.

“I’m Steven, actually.” He answered.

“And you live here with her?” She gestured to you.

“No.” You answered for yourself. “I stay a few blocks over.”

“It’s my mum’s flat, actually.” Steven defended.

“You guys are talking again?” She asked as she found one of the poetry books on his shelves.

They exchanged remarks about the French poet and the hieroglyphics on Steven’s desk. You watched quietly and were finding nothing that could indicate Steven was Marc. But then again, the one French poet he knew just so happened to be Layla’s favorite. And his explanation of hieroglyphs was the same as hers.

Was it possible?

While the two turned to argue about divorce papers and Steven’s identity, you were distracted by the unusual gym bag on the table. You glanced and saw them take their conversation to another side of the room so you went over to the bag. You were thankful it was already unzipped so you pulled the sides apart and were dumbfounded by what you saw.

Stacks of money, a gun, a golden bug, and a passport.

You were drawn to the document so you pulled it out quietly and opened it, seeing a different name printed on the page.

“Marc Spector.” You read to yourself and your heart came to a screeching halt in your chest.

“Who’s Marc?” You asked suddenly, drawing attention to yourself. You held up the passport expectantly.

“Oh, jeez, uh…” Steven rushed over, crumbling the divorce papers under his arm as he reached for the passport.

“No.” You held it further away. “Who are you?”

“C’mon, love. You know me.” He tried, almost desperate for you to be on his side.

“I don’t think I do.” You said sadly. “Who’s Marc? Is he your twin brother or something?”

“I don’t know.” He answered quickly.

“He is Marc and he needs to tell me if we’re getting this divorce or not.” Layla spoke up and snatched the papers from under Steven’s arm.

“You seem lovely, Layla, truly. But I’m not Marc Spector.” He insisted and you so badly wanted to believe him. “I’m Steven Grant and I work at a gift shop. Well, I used to work at a gift shop. I just want my life back.”

“Doesn’t seem like you know which life that is, do you?” You slammed the passport against his chest.

“Y/N, please wait.” He reached for your hand but you backed away.

You nearly ran down the hall to the elevator. You needed to get away. From Layla. From Steven or Marc or whoever the hell he was.

It felt like you didn’t know him anymore. A different name you could live with. A secret job, sure, you could get over that. But a wife? An entirely opposite personality? That shook your entire world, the very foundation of your relationship. You could justify the rest but the idea of him loving someone else so wholly and being someone else so entirely, it had you questioning everything you knew.

About him. About life and love. Even about yourself.

It made you wonder if you could walk away from it all. Say so long to the quiet london boy that stole your heart.

You were back in your apartment before you knew it and you leaned against the closed door for a moment once you were inside. Your head was spinning with the new situation and you decided you didn’t want to think about it. You pushed yourself up and headed to your fridge, picking out one of the cans you usually reserved for after dinner or nights you had friends over for drinks and movies. You took it into your room and got changed before dropping onto your couch.

You put your can on the side table and picked up the remote, flipping through channels until a familiar movie played. You let it run as background noise while you read your book and slipped your drink. But despite your best efforts, Steven was still present in your mind. When you were picturing the main male character, all you could picture was your boyfriend. One of the female characters started to look like Layla. It drove you insane.

You threw the book to the coffee table and dropped to your back across the cushions. You didn’t know how long you had been staring at your ceiling when someone knocked on your door. The first time the noise came, you didn’t move. Surely whoever it was would leave. But after a few seconds the knocking came again, with more authority than the first time. so you hauled yourself up and shuffled over. 

Opening the door, you were greeted by the ghost of your boyfriend. For the most part, it was the same man. Same clothes and same facial features. But his dark curls were pushed out of his face. His posture stood taller and his shoulders pulled back.

It didn’t take long for you to recognize you weren’t looking at Steven.

You moved to close the door when his hand shot out to stop you. You tried leaning some of your body weight against the door but it hardly budged. You muttered a small complaint to yourself before stepping back and opening the door fully.

You stared at the imposter expectantly.

“Not gonna let me in?” He asked, gesturing slightly towards your apartment.

Even his voice was different. Missing the accent, deeper and fuller than Steven’s. Seeing the more mature sound come from your boyfriend’s face sent goosebumps across your skin.

“Why would I? I don’t know you.” You shrugged.

“C’mon, Y/N.” He groaned and ran a hand down his face. “You really wanna have this conversation in the hall?”

You sighed heavily and as if on cue, your nosy neighbor was leaving her apartment. You grabbed Marc’s jacket and pulled him in, giving the woman a quick wave and a tight smile. You heard her question who he was but you shut the door before having to answer. You stared at the door for a second to collect yourself before turning to face Marc, who had already made himself comfortable on your couch.

“Little early in the day for drinks, don’t you think?” He tried to joke and shook the empty can but you didn’t laugh.

“Well when I find out my boyfriend is married and absolutely not who I thought he was, I’m entitled to a spiked lemonade… Just be glad it isn’t the bottle of vodka in my freezer.” You countered, the words spilling faster than you could control them. “So who the hell are you this time?”

“My name’s Marc.” He began and you rolled your eyes. “Steven and I are…”

“Twins?” You tried your earlier guess. You just desperately wanted something simple for an explanation. A case of mistaken identity among twins was simple enough.

“No, not exactly.”

“But you are the one married to that girl, Layla, right?” You pressed.

“Yeah.” He nodded and a small smile crossed his lips. “Steven’s never met her till today.”

“Well…” You said awkwardly, coming a few steps closer. “She’s very pretty.”

He smiled a little wider for a second before he seemed to remember why he was there.

“Listen, I came here because I wanted to try and explain what I could to you.” He began carefully.

“Is Layla right then, Steven’s just an act?” You cut in sharply. “A fake name so you can lead a life away from her? Because it seems to me that that woman loves you. Why she would is baffling to me and why you would divorce her is even more ludacris.”

“He’s not an act and he’s not fake.” He seemed to flinch at the last word. “Maybe he’s not all that real, either. It’s…” He blew out a heavy sigh. “It’s complicated, Y/N/N.”

“Don’t you dare.” You said tightly, closing the distance to put yourself in front of Marc. “You’ve existed to me for all of ten minutes. You have no right to call me that.”

“You’re right.” His hands went up in surrender. “I’m sorry.”

“How do you know about that anyway?”

“I know pretty much everything about Steven’s life.” He shrugged innocently. “You, the gift shop, his really shitty boss. I know what bus he takes, that goddamn fish. Jesus, I even know what underwear brand he wears.”

“How? Why? I just-“ You groaned and pushed your hands into your hair. “What the hell is going on, Marc?”

“Sometimes…” He spoke carefully, as if he was treading around land mines. “There were a few nights when you would come to Steven’s, or walking back to his place after work, it wouldn’t be him… He wouldn’t take over in time and it would be me. Kinda got to know you through that.”

“Oh my god.” You said quietly, your hand covering your mouth as you sunk into the chair beside you. “When he would be super quiet and just nodding or making little humming noises…”

“Yeah…” He hesitantly agreed, clearly embarrassed. “I tried to kind of push him forward but- I don’t know how this shit works, Y/N. I’m just living with it at this point.”

“So… You’re Marc and he’s Steven, but you’re also the same?” You questioned as the information tried to sink in. “Like you two are-“ You interlocked your fingers together.

“Same body, different people.” He nodded. “I know it’s a lot but don’t.. Don’t leave him over this.”

“Leave him?” Your brows furrowed and you almost laughed. “I’m not gonna leave him over this.”

“Really?” His brows raised quizzically. “Cause it didn’t seem that way when you walked out.”

“I can handle personalities, I think. It’s the marriage that’s a problem.”

“To be fair, it’s my marriage.” He offered. “Like I said, he never knew her.”

“I just need a day or two to let it process.” You confessed. “And I think you need a day or two to figure out things with Layla.”

“Yeah, probably right.”

“And if you two work it out, me and Layla are gonna have to figure out an arrangement.”

#steven grant fic #steven x yn #steven grant one shot #mcu steven grant #steven grant hc #steven grant x you #steven grant x reader #marc spector moon knight #steven grant moon knight #moon knight fic #moon knight x yn #moon knight x you #steven grant angst #marc spector angst #marc spector #steven grant #moon knight

[saffyspirals]

EYYY!! I recently found you in this app and I just gonna say your content is pretty great! Is it okay if I put on a request? Like what would the blue lock characters call their S/o? ;) any characters is fine to me but I hope Nagi and Kurona will be included hehe- Good work btw!

❥ fandom: blue lock

❥ includes: nagi, kaiser, bachira, chigiri, kunigami, shidou, kurona, hiori & reo

❥ notes: hi!! i really loved writing this request, so thanks for sending it in! i thought really hard about what kurona would call his s/o (literally took days), and fell in love w/ his character in the process :)

❥ warning(s): hmm…kurona might be ooc IDK but i like this kurona!

you are nagi’s little angel. he low-key started calling you that as a joke (he used to find couple nicknames a little cringe), but eventually, he grows to love your reactions to the name. you smile at him, a lot, and it gets him out of trouble 90% of the time. “come back to bed, angel… ‘m asking nicely, aren’t i?”

kaiser switches it up like no man’s business. he’d been calling you by different pet names since before you got together so, you’re pretty used to it. i’d say he rotates between babe/baby, love and princess. honey bunches and names of a similar strange nature are saved for when he feels like teasing you. mein kaiserin (my empress in his native tongue) is only used on special, romantic occasions. like, when he tells you he loves you for the first time. or when he’s trying to get his family to understand just how serious he is about you. <3

bachira switches between love and sugar. sugar-plum when he wants to embarrass you. bachira is definitely one to tell you that he loves you quite a lot, he just doesn’t want you to forget, i suppose! giving you ‘love’ as a nickname is a way of reminding you of the fact rather than declaring how he feels 24/7. sugar is just another name he likes. it sounds good coming from him, and you usually get a kiss after he uses it, which is of course a bonus. “eh? you’re asking me how i think you look today? you look perfect, sugar! always do.”

chigiri refers to you as his darling. the nickname is beautiful, and elegant, just like he is. it’s easy to get flustered, having him call you that. chigiri likes the fact that he’s able to bring about such an adorable reaction.

kunigami doesn’t call you by this nickname often. actually, he uses your first name most of the time, mostly out of habit (i’m thinking friends-since-forever turned lovers), partly because he feels a little embarrassed giving you a nickname and using it in front of others. BUT ANYWAY, kunigami refers to you as pretty. he’d first called you it by accident, but since you seemed elated by it, decided he’d continue to use it on occasion. “tell me what’s going on in that head of yours, pretty.”

SHIDOU CALLS YOU SWEET GIRL. (🫠🫶) + similar variations like, sweetie or sweetheart, or sweet cheeks. snookums is reserved for when he’s about to tell you he’s done something that will probably annoy you. reason for the nickname? well, you’re sweet! you’ve got a good heart, and won’t swing for people if they say/do anything you don’t like. “are you gonna kiss me goodbye, sweet cheeks? or am i gonna have to chase ya?”

kurona primarily calls you pudding. his reason for it? “i like pudding, and i like you.” i feel like he’s kind of a private person, and only opens up when he feels totally comfortable with someone so, it’s only used when it’s just the two of you around. HOWEVER. private as he is, i think kurona’s got this other side to him. he likes to tease you, just a little. say for example, you’re giving him the silent treatment. he’ll still try and talk to you, but will eventually get tired of not getting any attention. and then, “hey, y/n? can you pass me some napkins?” “…” “…ah, right. you love being called pookie bear, don’t you. POOKIE BEAR, WILL YOU PASS ME SOME NAPKINS?” he’ll pull this kind of stunt in front of your mutual friends when you’re having breakfast together (or something of a similar scenario!). it’s embarrassing, but it gets you to talk at least. he likes having you address him, even if it’s to tell him to, “stop embarrassing me, idiot!”

hiori calls you pumpkin. a little on the cheesy side, but i think it suits him! he isn't embarrassed about referring to you by the name in public either. it shows anyone who might be questioning your relationship that you're definitely together. if it embarrasses you, he'll do his best to tone it down. no promises that he'll never say it though, hiori simply can't help it!

reo rotates between a lot of sweet sounding nicknames. precious, my love, honey. i don't think he does this on purpose, but reo loves using 'my' before a lot of nicknames too. it's just an unconscious reminder that you're all his, and honestly, he's all yours. reo would be all in for any relationship he pursues, and nicknames come with the territory. bonus: he'd be absolutely over the moon if you gave him a cute nickname too. sure, he'd be a little embarrassed if his friends teased him about it, but his heart would swell with pride. being known as the 'sickening, lovey-dovey' couple isn't a bad thing, you know!! "My love, remind me what you wanted me to get you at the store later?"

#blue lock x reader #blue lock imagines #bllk imagines #bllk x reader #bllk fluff #bllk x you #blue lock #blue lock x you #nagi x reader #kaiser x reader #bachira x reader #kunigami x reader #chigiri x reader #shidou x reader #kurona x reader #michael kaiser x reader #meguru bachira x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #hiori x reader #mikage reo x reader #reo x reader #saffy x blue lock

[patrophthia]

so, like theo is deaf and he has to wear a pin. and the reader knows sign language as well (they both do). theo was quite irritated by the reader because she was not looking at him for like 2 days smthg. (yes, yes, ik). idk, sad Theo takes off the pin and isn't talking too much and idk they talk in sign language

wait this is a fun idea! thank u for sending it in!

you’re nice | theodore nott

this is part of my 600 followers celebrations! you can join it sending an ask!

→ pairing: deaf!theodore nott x reader

i personally don’t know sign language, nor do i know anyone who does so please take this very lightly! either way i hope you like this!

It wasn’t your intention to ignore Theodore, it’s just been a hectic week and you had to prioritise your time in a way where you wouldn’t be able to look Theo every passing second of the day.

But once you’ve realised, it was already too late. Theodore had already took of his pin, and began ignoring you in return. You could only wish he’d give you a chance to explain yourself but it seems as though any attempts you made to do so was failing.

You didn’t really have much of plan. You just know sad Theodore could be a little sulky and hell bent on not communicating with anyone whatsoever; not even his closest friends. “What did you do, princess?”

“I didn’t do anything,” you frown at Blaise, not caring about nickname seeing as he’s assigned you it the second you and Theodore began dating. “I got a little busy on school work and kind of forgot about him and now—”

“—you forgot about your boyfriend?” Blaise cuts you off.

You frown deepens, groaning slightly as you bent your head backwards. “It’s not like that,” you explain, straightening yourself to look back at him. “You know how hectic it is during this time of the year and I just wasn’t able to look at him and I guess —therefore, talk to him.”

“And now he’s decided to ignore everyone just because you ignored him,” Blaise blew out a whistle. “On purpose.”

“You don’t need to remind me,” you scowl. “What do I do?”

“Talk to him,” Blaise says off-handedly. And when you fix him an annoyed look he adds on. “You know he hates it when you are upset, so maybe try using that?”

“You want me to act upset in front of an upset Theodore?” You concluded his words. “Are you stupid? Do you hear yourself?”

“How about you not doubt my intelligence and try it?” Blaise says with a roll of his eyes.

“What would I get in return?” It’s more like banter between the two of you, now having grown comfortable with one another.

Blaise snickers. “A boyfriend who wears his pin like he’s supposed to and isn’t sulking every time we see him.”

That’s a fair enough point, you guessed. Now on a mission to find Theodore. It didn’t take long, knowing that Theo was a creature of habits who liked to attend his classes a few minutes earlier than it starts.

The DADA classroom was empty, save for Theodore, when you arrived. Standing right in front of him as you said something Blaise had suggested before you made your way over. “You know what I heard?”

It was second nature for you to speak while you sign by now, your hands moving on their own accords. “Apparently, you’re only dating me because you think I’m pretty.”

Theodore only frowns, shaking his head. He’s not signing back yet and you take it as a sign for you take push his buttons a slight bit more.

“If not that then why?” You sign, with a small pout. “Tell me.”

“I’m dating you because you’re nice.” And there you have it, Theodore’s signing back. “To everyone.” Then after a beat, he adds. “Even me.”

You’ve been frowning a lot today. And his ‘even me’ makes your frown deepen. “What do you mean by that?”

“I know I can be a lot,” he signs, “but you’re always nice to me and that’s why I like you.” He finishes. “You being pretty is just a reason for me to like you even more.”

He grabs at your hand, pressing a gentle kiss at the back of your palm before letting go. Not a second goes by and you’re already missing his touch. “If you like me so much,” you began, “then wear this pin like you’re supposed to, to prove it.”

It’s silly. He knows it. You know it. Because, you know he loves you whether he wears the pin or not but it did nothing to stop your heart from fluttering when he places his pin in its rightful spot only to smile at you afterwards.

He loves you and even though he might not say it, he hopes you know it.

— from bee: it wouldn’t be a theo fic written by me if there was no blaise meddling in relationships!

#— requests #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott fanfic #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott imagines #theo nott x y/n #theo nott fanfiction #theo nott x reader #theo nott fanfic #theo nott x you #🧳: my writing #🍰: 600 with patro!

[wizardrousactivity]

CAN YOU DO AN ASK WHERE KONIG IS WITH A LITTLE FREAK!!!! Like she's very sweet and dainty but in the sheets she's an actual devil like she'll overstimulate him pls pls pls pls my little wizard pls i n

anything you ask for silly CW: König is depicted as an older man, also depicted as having exploiter traits but its only said once. He's just a freak idk TW: Smut, sperm cramps/ball cramps

The man himself, was in for a sweet surprise when he first met you, this little sweet thing that made equally the sweet treats.

He wasn't the kind who would purposefully buy desserts - always watching the weight he gained and lost, it was a truly bad habit, one he hasn't been able to get over since his teenage years up to his late 30's. But all of that previous baggage had gone down the drain once he saw you, unpacking loads of flours and goods, just on his daily walk. You gave him a warm smile as you hauled them over your shoulders, hoping he would come into your little bakery to shop. You were just a nice little baker after all, he wouldn't mind taking advantage of it. And here he is now, chest rising and falling shakily beneath you - as you milk him for all he's worth. He's trying not to be too loud as his balls cramp and tighten, but your pace just won't let up, your thighs were practically on fire from how much they burned with your constant motions. But it's all worth it if you get to see him break, reduced to an ant-hill in front of you. He's about to go cross-eyed from how dumb-fucked he's gotten, heaving out moans pathetically, begging for you to stop his umpteenth upcoming orgasm. "Hmg- Slow down..!" His voice was thin-laced beset by your previous actions, and his desire to release himself. You only chuckle, grabbing his cheeks so he only looks at you. The contortionist of his torture - his fingers dig into the mattress beneath him, and his eyes almost roll to the end of his skull as you start to squeal out and tighten around him. You bite into your bottom lip, gazing at him with heavy eyes. "One more time. Please Köni.." You whine out, and he couldn't refuse, especially not when you looked at him like that. "Ah-Ahuh.." He clumsily agrees, knowing you were lying, you just loved the feeling of his cock filling you up. Nice and full with his length. König whines at the coil in his lower stomach getting unbearably thin, your legs quiver in pain and your back arches twofold, equally as close as him. You muffle a maniacal sound of pleasure, a dumbed out, cheeky smile planted on your face. And he feels as if a succubus from the deepest parts of Hell has came to drink him, leave him dry of all fluids. Is that evident in the sounds he's making, his mewls getting faster and frequent, more panicked even. "Mgh-nein..!" All you can hear is inconsistent babbles, your nearing hours of edging and draining made him sensitive all over, you doubt he wouldn't cum just from the slightest touch or peck you give him. "Hah-- fuck!" He groans out like it was hurting him, unable to function and grab onto anything anymore - his arms fall beside him, teeth clenching tightly in an attempt to stop any more 'embarrassing' sounds threatening to escape. His legs shake with another intensely pleasurable orgasm dragged out of him, perhaps the edging did help.

#THEY ASKED FOR A BAKER!READER BTW THEY JUST SENT THIS FIRST #needed to clear that up #anyway #konig x reader #konig mw2 #konig cod #cod x reader #call of duty #könig x reader #konig call of duty #konig smut #cod konig #konig x you #konig x reader smut #konig

[sminiac]

hi!! can i request bf!hunter like the ones you did with the other members? thank you so much if you do 🥰

💌 — You’re so sweet, I’m so sorry this took me so long, hopefully it meets a few expectations :,) Also this is the last member for my Bf!Xikers, isn’t that crazy?

Though Bf!Hunter’s exterior can be difficult to navigate your way around without knowing him first, because of how he’s truly such a soft, gentle being the crush to lover process is so enjoyable in every aspect. If you’re more on the introverted side he does his best in helping you toe that seemingly daunting line outside of your comfort zone, even if it’s by just a little, he’s so incredibly proud. The type to learn and pay attention to your boundaries and habits, how much you can and can’t handle and when. Just knows how to take care of a socially anxious partner because he’s so observant, so curious about the way your brain works which makes for a lot of long conversations about why you are the way you are, loves listening to you, because it means by the end of it he’ll be able to say that he knows you even better. He’s always so supportive if you manage to do something you find a little scary, or even not, “You don’t have to babe, I won’t be upset, promise.” Ugh he’s so.

Ex: Always so considerate of your state of mind, your social batteries running exceptionally low and you’re becoming a little too overstimulated by your surroundings and the boys? No worries, he’s already letting everyone know that the two of you are done for the night without over explaining why. The type to never be upset if the two of you end up leaving functions earlier than he anticipated, just wants to make sure you’re enjoying yourself and that you’re comfortable, loves how clingy you become when exhausted. Idk but he’s really built and tall right? Would be nice to be wrapped up in him after being out.

Bf!Hunter who would naturally be so protective and assertive for your sake, he’s so “Y/n doesn’t like that.” whenever the boys are pressing a little too hard about you trying something, or doing something new that can be a little irritating to the senses. The thing about it though is that he wouldn’t be mean about it either which is so whdhajsh!!! like he’d say it so politely but the firmness to his words doesn’t lessen by any.

Ex: This also makes me think of him having a habit of judging new foods based off of you taste without being asked to, he’s just so: “Mm, no, babe you wouldn’t like that,” and is quickly pointing out something else you’d like instead, he’d be so accurate with it too.

Bf!Hunter who would make you copy what he’s saying in a language you don’t speak fluently solely so he could feed into his own delusions before he knew that you liked him back. He’d be giggling so much, hands zipping up to cover his face from your sight, and he’d always refuse to tell you exactly what you said. With this, when the two of you are finally together he’d either mutter small compliments under his breath or with his whole chest in front of your face, and still, he’d never tell you what he’s saying.

Bf!Hunter who never fails to have the cutest, most visible pout whenever you’ve got any kind of lip product on because he doesn’t want to make you keep reapplying it over and over again. The same with skincare/face makeup, doesn’t want to ruin it but god does he want to kiss you so bad :( I think to compensate he’d just like to have his face as close to yours as possible without making a movement that would cause any disturbance to whatever you have on in the moment, settling for quick pecks to your neck, jaw, the back of your hand, your hair.

Ex: Has developed a habit of looking at your lips before he kisses you, sometimes he’ll notice you have something on and continues to kiss you anyways, pulling away with his pretty smile on display and a: “Thank you baby.”

Bf!Hunter who would somehow always find a way to get along with your siblings no matter what their age is, would put in so much effort to build a relationship with them and maintain it even when he’s away by returning with gifts and stories :(

Bf!Hunter who certainly has a habit of always ending up crushing you in the middle of the night because he loves being as close to you as possible when sleeping, but that means his limbs always find ways to be rested over top of you, whines out complaints whilst half asleep when you attempt to shift him off of you, and only falls back asleep if you’re the one making contact with him.

Ex: Scratching his head, rubbing his back, holding his hand, even just a hand on his face is enough, just needs some sort of contact with you 😞 despite adjusting him inevitably you’ll wake up with him clinging to you, arms wrapped significantly tight around you, face buried in your neck :(

Bf!Hunter who adores you so much that his love languages couldn’t possibly be wrapped up into just one.

Words of affirmation? He’s definitely very articulate when it comes to expressing his feelings with you, and he doesn’t like being hasty about it, so if you’re ever having any sudden thoughts or concerns he’s quick to walk away from whatever’s keeping him busy if he can to help make sense of the situation you’re struggling with.

Acts of service? Yes! I think he’s the type to purposely go out of his way to clear things off of your to-do list that are starting to pile up to the point of overwhelming you, reassures you that he wanted to, even grabs you a little treat so that you can’t possibly be upset about him doing something that you swore you would get to by yourself.

Gift giving? He’s horrible for it, when it comes to buying something for you the price of the item couldn’t be further from concern, it’s absurd. The type of boyfriend that any other boyfriend couldn’t compete with when it comes to gifts, takes pride in it too.

Quality time? Loves going on the most random dates with you when he has the opportunity, it will be a random Tuesday morning and he’s just like “Babe do you want to go feed some deer with me later?” He’d also spend time searching for good places to eat whether it’s from a mutual friend, family or a random website, loves making little hole in the wall restaurants your spot.

Physical touch? Everything about him screams that he loves teasing, playing footsies under the table with him, purposely stepping on the back of your shoe when he’s walking behind you, holding things above your head that the tips of your fingers merely skim over yet he doesn’t want to let go of your other hand for the life of him. Definitely has a habit of slipping his hand into the back pocket of your jeans when walking together, or having your arm looped through his, loves having you all over him, especially in public.

Bf!Hunter who is so… Boyfriend??? Like there’s no other way to possibly explain it.

#bf!xikers #finally getting to clearing out my drafts #hope this was okay at least omg #xikers hunter #papungkorn lertkiatdamrong #papungkorn lerkiatdamrong x reader #park hunter #park hunter x reader #xikers park hunter #xikers hunter x reader #xikers imagines #xikers x reader #xikers

[factual-fantasy]

27 ASK :)))))🍤🍤🍤

I do not.. but man I really need to give them names. I intend to name my FNAF au before drawing Moon Malfunction 2.0. And my Deltarune AU... ehhh.. idk, I'll just see if anything comes to me <XD (I'm open to suggestions! :0 )

@eggswastaken

Thank you! But sorry, no fanart rule. I wouldn't like for anyone to draw my AUs Asgore.. Thank you for asking first though <:) A lot of people would have just drawn it and not have cared to ask.

:DD Thank you so much!! :}}}

@luna-purple454

AAA THANK YOU FELLOW ASGORE ENJOYER! XDD

As for his backstory I don't really have any new ideas.. but as for the future?

I have ideas of Asgore seeing other versions of people he used to know. And it really hurts him. Like maybe they pass by and AU where he sees a Toriel. And his heart just aches. Or he sees a Gerson or Gaster, and he just longs for those people. He misses them and it kills him that he cant ever go back home.

Imagine if he met a Toriel that hated Asgore, post murdering kids. And she understands that he's a different Asgore but she cant help but be cold towards him. That might hurt worse than just missing his family. Someone with his wife's face being indirectly disappointed in him. Ashamed of him, angry at him. He never did those things that her Asgore did. But she still glares at him out of habit. And that kills him more than anything. And don't even get me started when he hears about the horrible fates this AUs Asriel and Chara suffered.

I can imagine that like Grillby, his body becomes more unstable the more emotional he is. Maybe they walk through an AU where Asgore meets that Toriel. And by the time they're ready to leave Asgore is wrecked. Seeing all these people broke his spirit. His body has significantly dissolved and he can no longer walk. All he does is hang his head low and weep. Saying he cant move.. and he wants to go home..

Jevil might be able to take the whole group to another AU, despite Asgore's state. But likely they'd just camp out for an extra day or so until Asgore can pull himself back together..

Aw, I'm sorry you're sick, that's no fun. <:( But I'm glad my artwork is helping you feel a bit better :}}}

@cudlycorncornsworthcoberson

Positively giddy my dear fellow

@elegysonnet

I haven't seen it yet, but it looks good and I plan to watch it! :0

@pinkbomb08

:D Thank you! Even if you have nothing to ask, I don't mind a nice message! :}}

@veeneeyyyy

Thank you! And hey man. Being down on yourself about your artwork is just gonna make you feel worse and slowly chip away at your confidence. Trust me, I've been there.

Try your best to always say something positive about the art that you make. No matter how much you think/believe that its bad. And never follow it up with anything bad either, "the face came out nice... but this hand looks terrible-" No. None of that. Actively force yourself to never say anything negative about your art out loud and always search for things that you like in the piece. If you seriously cant find a single thing to be positive about, then say "well I did my best. And I improved a little at art because I drew this."

Trust me man. From personal experience it will do wonders for your self confidence. Eventually that confidence will become second nature. Fake it till you make it.💪

@nutty-candy-lover

WAAA THANK YOUUUUU HHHGHFIIUSDAFI💖💖💖😭😭

REALLY THANK YOU SO MUCH!! I take so much pride in my expressions and angst! I've never really been the best at expressing my stories through dialogue. So I express it through body language instead!

A big chunk of the drawing time is the sketching and the line art. Trying my best to get specific expressions and poses. Like in this post! Most of the line art time was spent making sure that Grillby and Asgore eyes were juuuust right. And that Asgore's hug didn't look too tight or like Grillby couldn't pull away if he needed to. More like he was holding/supporting Grillby with 1 arm, and resting his hand on his back with the other.

I always have this thought process while drawing of "his pose looks a bit stiff, his shoulders aren't drooped down enough. He's grieving, so he needs to look heavier. His eyebrows should be furrowed a bit tighter. No now he looks angry, less furrow, more tears. His tears look too fresh. He needs to look like he's cried a lot recently. Okay thinner tears and marks around the eyes-" things like that.

I enjoy drawing these physical expressions so much and I really try to make them look good. So to hear that you see that effort I put in and you really like it?? wwAAA AWOOOOGOROOG😭😭💖🍤💓💖💘THANK YOU WAAAAAA

@cupcake-kingdom

Sort of..? I think they would have a decent relationship. I imagined him being a cold father but sometimes shows that he cares in his own special way.

Like for example. A comic that I never got around to drawing started with Bowser having a nightmare about Mario. When he wakes up, he proceeds to roam from room to room around his castle. Checking on all of his kids 1 by 1. He could stop by and maybe close their open windows, tuck them back in if their blankets were kicked off. A stuffed animal fell off the bed so he puts it back.

I think I planned for him to make it to JRs room. And instead of just checking and leaving, he goes and scoops JR up and take him back to his room. He also checks on Kamek and the Commander. before going back to bed with JR.

That might be a good way to explain it. He like- he loves his kids, he does. But he's just super weird about showing it and can only be truly tender towards them when something like that nightmare happens.

I don't believe so no. :/

I'm not sure, I haven't seen the Amazing Digital Circus yet <XD

@growing-past-me

Woah woah woah- slow down for a sec, Jevil and Seam are strictly friends through and through.😅 I personally don't support/enjoy ships of any kind. Its just really not my taste. :/

But yes! Which ever story I end up going with, Jevil and Seam escape their AU together and rekindle their friendship. :}

Yes! It is! :DD

Its also a double whammy though because its also meant to parallel Foxy having his mouth tied shut and his hook being removed. 👀👀

I haven't really thought about it too much..

Perhaps they'd feel betrayed? Because Freddy, Foxy and Bonnie all lied to them to keep Gregory a secret? Maybe there would be fighting because Chica and the others think they should call security but Freddy insists that they dont?

Maybe they would think that Freddy is malfunctioning because of how hard he pushing against their protocol? Maybe they'd call security on Freddy because of how he's acting..? Who knows <XD

As for how they acted the night Gregory was there.. man.. they wouldn't know what to say. Some might not even believe it happened, some would be ashamed.. it would be a hard pill to swallow for sure :(

@random-entity-363

XDD he really does use the power of tape to fix things doesn't he? I think he was also just a bit lucky that a lot of the damage on Bonnies body could just be poorly taped back into place.

I supposes that Staff bots could be used to aid Foxy is certain shows of his. But ultimately he is meant to be a 1 man band while preforming in Pirates cove <:/

"Bonnie you have no business being this larg" XDD

I've seen that all over Tumblr in the past few days. I really gotta get around to watching it <XD

@beryl-shade

I suppose its always possible. Although with how I've structured my Vanessa and the "bug", I don't think anyone/anything would make Bonnie do that..

XDD Yeah I can see them freaking out. As would anyone!

Well Bonnie didn't become this way over night. It was a slow process over the span of ten years. Years of constantly being overwhelmed with his performances, interacting with large crowds that he's not designed to process, his friends not giving him space when he really needed it.. He just slowly crumbled more and more until now he's just this cold, angry and rude individual.

However,, when it comes to Vanessa he's not that bad.

Bonnie is designed for interacting with groups of no more then 10 people at a time. He's even better at 1-1 interactions. And that's what Vanessa is. Just 1 person to process. Just 1 child.

And unlike most other kids that Bonnie deals with, she is very shy and quiet. She almost talks less then Bonnie does. That could be why Bonnie was Vanessa's favorite character. She preferred characters who weren't as loud as Monty or as active as Foxy. A slow moving, mellow animatronic is what she was drawn to.

I've imagined them interacting. Bonnie would ask her a question and she would just nod. If she were scared/sad she might not rush to Bonnie for a hug. Rather just sheepishly sit next to him and hold his hand.

What I'm trying to say is, she matches Bonnie's energy pretty well. Bonnie is not scary to her and Vanessa isn't overwhelming for Bonnie. I imagined them camping out in Bonnies room. The darkness makes Vanessa feel hidden, so she actually prefers it. She's shy so she doesn't really say much to Bonnie.. But she feels safe with him.

Maybe she squeaks out a little; "..thank you for helping me.." Bonnie could then turn his head a little and nod. Vanessa could smile and then curl up next to Bonnie. Eventually falling asleep.

They could work, and maybe their bond isn't the same as Freddy and Gregory's, but that doesn't mean it's lesser. Or that they're not as close. I think they're just right for each other. An overwhelmed animatronic mixed with a really quiet kid is a good mix I'd say :0

(Post in question)

I don't have an answer for either <XD

He was just reading "a book" and Kwazii was about to do "a dumb thing"-

@ocinstituterep

I haven't really given their exact ages much thought. Though I kind'a have an age range..? I feel like Barnacles is 40-50 years old. Maybe closer to 40.? Inkling is like in his 60-70s.

Dashi, Shellington, Kwazii, Tweak and Peso are all just bunched together between 20 and 40 years old. But Peso could be the youngest of the 5 and Kwazii the oldest maybe..?

The Vegimals are all under 10 I think.

I have not drawn that before no :/

Also that fact list was fun! XDD

#my response #octonauts #undertale #deltarune #fnaf security breach

[daredvssy]

Stress

I thought I wasn't going to be able to finish this tonight, but by some unknown power, I managed to complete it. I hope you all enjoy this silly little bit of smut I wrote instead of travelling to campus today!

If you prefer to read on AO3, you can do so here! :)

Ship: Papa Emeritus IV x Reader

Rating: 18+!!!!!! No minors PLEASE!

Wordcount: 2050

Warnings: smut, male receiving oral sex, face-fucking, praise, thigh riding. Idk what to tell you it's all incredibly self-indulgent.

You found Copia in his office, sitting at his desk with his head in his hands. You gently rapped on the doorframe to alert him to your presence. The soft noise drew his attention, and he sat up promptly in an attempt to regain the dignified demeanor he felt he should possess as Papa.

When he realized you had been the source of the knocking, he relaxed somewhat, a soft, weary smile gracing his features.

"Hello mi amore," he greeted you. "Please, come in." You made your way over to his desk, quietly closing the door to his office behind you. He leaned back in his plush office chair and opened his arms to you, a wordless invitation to sit in his lap that you accepted immediately. His arms enveloped you in a warm embrace, holding you in your place on his lap. You placed a quick kiss on his jaw. This earned another smile from Copia, although it was not enough to disguise his complete and utter exhaustion.

"Is everything alright?" you asked him, concerned. "You seem very tired."

He sighed deeply, his brow creasing as he gave up trying to conceal what was already so obvious to you: he was worn out.

"I am tired," he agreed. "My work seems to be neverending recently. My predecessors never made it seem like being Papa was so much work!"

"Maybe it wasn't," you mused aloud, reflecting on the habits of the first three Papa's. "They all put in the necessary work as Papa, and I know they were certainly all known to spend a lot of time partying, but the band has never been so popular as it is now. The Ghost Project has never been more successful than it is under you my love, it's only natural that the workload would increase."

He nodded in consideration; you raised a point that was pretty difficult to ignore.

"I suppose this is true," he agreed, "And I am very grateful. But it is getting to the point where I can hardly manage it on my own. Nearly all of my waking hours are consumed by my work. I haven't even been able to eat with you once this week! Cara mia I feel as though I have hardly seen you at all!" He complained, practically pouting.

You leaned up to place a gentle kiss to his lips, smiling softly.

"While admittedly, I miss you too, I fully understand. You worked so hard to become Papa, I know how important it is to you," you said.

“Cuore mia you are important to me too,” he argued. “My work is not more important to me than you are.”

“I know, Copia,” you acknowledged, gently stroking his cheek with your thumb. “But I don’t resent that you’re busy. I know that people are depending on you."

“I still wish I could spend more time with you,” he grumbled.

“I know. But we’re spending time together now, right?” you reasoned. “And if you'd like, I can bring dinner here tonight, and eat with you while you work?"

Your offer drew another smile out of Copia, slightly bigger this time.

"I'd like that very much, amore," he said. "But still, I wish I could give you my full attention, like you deserve. I regret that you will have to settle for sharing my attention with my work."

"I'm sorry that you're so tired and stressed, Copia. I wish there was something I could do to help," you lamented, nodding pensively.

"Just you being here helps more than you know," he told you earnestly, his mismatched eyes meeting your own. "It's nice to be able to feel you like this. I feel like it has been so long since I've been able to touch you."

His voice betrayed a thinly veiled longing, a hunger even. Truthfully, it had been some time since the last time the two of you had been together in any way that could be considered sexual or intimate. He often spent his whole day working, with you only seeing him briefly each night as he returned to his quarters, crawling into bed beside you and passing out quickly. It was unusual for the two of you, to say the least. This planted the beginnings of an idea in your head. You may not be able to lighten his workload, but maybe there was something you could do to make him feel a little bit better, for now.

"You know… I have an idea that I think might just make you feel a little bit better, Papa," you told him. There was a playfulness to your tone, that when combined with the use of his title made him raise his eyebrows at you suspiciously.

"Oh yeah? And what's this idea?" he wondered, narrowing his eyes slightly. You could tell he had already an idea of the direction your thoughts were heading. Instead of answering him verbally, you decided to spring into action.

You quickly repositioned yourself in his lap, twisting in his loose hold until you were straddling him. Before he had the chance to even attempt to say anything, you captured his lips in a kiss, threading your fingers through his hair.

While your previous kiss had been soft and chaste, this one was nothing of the sort. This was a kiss full of heat, designed to stoke the fire that was always burning, just beneath the surface with him. Always quick to succumb to his own carnal desires, Copia melted into the kiss, a moan catching in the back of his throat as he accepted the desire you breathed into him where your mouths met.

When you eventually pulled away for some air, his chest was heaving, and his mismatched eyes bored into your own. The black paint on his lips had begun to smudge around the edges, only adding to his now disheveled appearance.

"Will you let me help you relax? Just for a little bit?" You asked him, sucking a mark onto his neck as you awaited his answer.

"I don't have much time," he began, and then interrupted himself with a moan as you laved your tongue over the mark you had just made, his hips bucking up into you. "But I suppose…” He trailed off. “I suppose I can make a little time for this. Yes," he decided.

A lascivious grin spread across your face.

"Good," you cooed, pressing a palm to his chest, wordlessly urging him to relax back into his seat. "You always work so hard, you're so good at what you do. You deserve to relax Papa, let me take care of you."

He watched you through heavily lidded eyes as you slid off his lap and onto the floor, gently urging his legs apart. His breath started to come in shallow puffs as you dragged your palm over his hardening bulge, pulling apart the laces of his pants with a practiced ease. You made to remove his pants, and he raised his hips a little to help you ease them down his hips enough to free his cock from its tight confinement. It was fully erect at this point, the tip a rosy shade of pink and beginning to leak a bit of precum.

You looked him directly in the eye as your tongue darted out quickly to lap it up. He let out a strangled noise at that, his gloved hand coming down to gently rest on the back of your head, gently threading his fingers through your hair.

You kissed and sucked a wet trail down his length, all the way to the base and then back up again, enjoying the needy little noises the action coaxed out of him. Then, after checking to make sure that his eyes were still on you, you slowly took him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip.

“Cazzo,” he gasped, taking in a shuddering breath. “Always so good to me,” he moaned as you took him even deeper into your mouth, moaning around him at the praise. You gradually worked your way up and down his cock, taking in more and more of his considerable length with each bob of your head.

You brought one hand up to gently caress his balls, and he bucked his hips up involuntarily at the extra stimulation. The shock of the motion gagged you a little, and he tried to pull you off of him, instantly apologetic.

Instead of letting him, you relaxed your throat and swallowed him down in his entirety. A high, desperate whine escaped him. You clenched your thighs together in an attempt to alleviate some of the ache that was steadily growing between them.

You pulled off of him for a brief moment to take a deep breath. You spoke, your voice sounding ragged, desperate even.

“Use me, Papa,” you pleaded with him. Copia required no further invitation than this. With a deep groan, his grip on your hair tightened, and he began to thrust up into your mouth at a desperate pace. You moaned around him, letting him use you to chase the pleasure he so deserved.

As he continued to thrust into you, a litany of curses and praises flowed out of him.

“Such a good fucking girl, letting your Papa use you like this, so fucking perfect for me,” he moaned. You could tell Copia was getting close when the rhythm of his thrusts into your mouth started to become erratic. You hollowed your cheeks around him as he fucked your mouth, humming a little around his length. The vibrations from this alone were enough to throw him over the edge.

As the first spurt of his cum hit the back of your throat, he practically yelped. Resuming control of the situation, you took him in as deep as you could, moaning and swallowing around him as he rode out his very intense orgasm.

When he finally came down from his high, you pulled off of his length gingerly, bringing up a hand to wipe at your mouth. Your breath was coming in heavy pants as you stared up at him. His gloved hand came down to cup your jaw, and you leaned into the touch automatically.

"Come here, bella," he said, patting his thigh in invitation with his free hand. You didn't wait to be told twice, climbing back up into his lap as he guided you so you were straddling one of his thighs.

He captured your lips in a heated kiss, his hands coming down to your hips, sliding up under your skirt and encouraging you to grind down onto his thigh.

He broke the kiss, leaning back just enough to look at you. He continued to guide your hips in a steady rhythm, the worn fabric of his pants catching on your clit just right, sending lightning shocks of pleasure through your entire body. As worked up as you already were, it didn’t take much time at all before you could feel tension ramping up in your core. You buried your face in his neck, a high, pathetic noise escaping you as your legs began to shake.

"That's it, amore," he encouraged. "Cum for your Papa, just like that.” You were powerless to disobey his command. Your release washed over you like a tidal wave, leaving you gasping and crying out as you twitched in his lap, your vision going blank with the intense pleasure. Copia held you through it, whispering praise into your ear as you came down from it, catching your breath.

When you met his eyes again, a warm and goofy smile was plastered on his face. He gazed back at you fondly.

“Thank you, cara mia. I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Of course you deserve me, Copia. I love you,” you stated plainly. “Anyways,” you asked, unable to help returning his smile. “Did it work? Are you feeling any better?”

“Oh, yes amore. I feel infinitely better than I did before,” he replied.

“Good,” you said, your smile growing even wider. “Now give me a minute to recover and I will go see about getting us that food. I don’t think my legs will work properly just yet.”

#ghost #ghost bc #the band ghost #papa iv #papa emeritus iv #cardinal copia #papa emeritus iv x reader #cardinal copia x reader #papa emeritus iv smut #cardinal copia smut

[neos127]

hyunjin’s boyfriend habits !

pairing: hwang hyunjin x gn!reader wc: idk oops genre: fluff lots of fluff warnings: none!!

©yyx2

kisses all over

hyunjin loves kissing you, it’s like his lifeline. he really loves kissing your lips, claiming that he can’t get enough of your taste. if he wants to tease you he’ll nibble at your bottom lip or your neck. he loves watching how flustered you get just from his kisses. oftentimes when hyunjin greets you, he’ll slowly kiss your fingers then your forehead.

drawing you

hyunjin gets his some of his inspiration from romantic things, so it’s no surprise that you have become his muse. usually he does little sketches of you, quickly and cartoon like. although sometimes he likes to take his time, making a portrait to catch your beauty. hyunjin likes to say that he is never able to perfectly catch his stunning you are in only a painting.

spa nights

spa nights

hyunjin basically forces a face mask on you some nights if he wants to stay in. he loves to give you back massages and looks forward to his own since he claims you have to “repay him”. hyunjin ends up taking a lot of photos of you (most you would like to delete off his phone) and photos of each other to savor the memory. the two of you will sit in your bathrobes while watching a movie— sometimes you even braid hyunjin’s hair.

squeezing you to death in his sleep

hyunjin loves when you sleep over or vice versa, mostly so he can have someone to cuddle with. hyunjin is a very heavy sleeper, and a crazy one so typically the two of you wake up with either no blanket, at least one pillow on the floor or both. 99.9% of the time hyunjin latches onto you like a leech, wrapping his long legs around you and making an escape impossible. it’s nice when it’s cold outside, but not so nice when he accidentally elbows you in the face.

reading/singing you to sleep

hyunjin knows how much you love his voice as you’ve told him many times before. because of this, hyunjin occasionally sings to you or even reads to you before bed. he typically does it when you’re not feeling well or have had a bad day. hearing his voice sing a sweet tune or reading your favorite book always makes your sour mood disappear or distracts you from whatever pain you may be feeling.

being your hype-man

hyunjin always wants you to feel good about yourself, and he’ll make sure to do whatever he can to help with that. he loves taking photos of you, kneeling in extreme positions just to capture the best photos of your figure. and of course you can’t forget the multitude of compliments spewing from his lips as he snaps a bunch of shots.

being very kind and considerate of your feelings

i know this is the bare minimum but— hyunjin is truly the sweetest. he always wants to make sure that you’re comfortable with him, whatever it is. he never wants to cross any boundaries and he always wants you to tell him if there’s ever anything wrong. hyunjin values your trust and never wants to do anything to break it. if he notices that something is off, he never waits to address the issue, only wanting the best for you and your well-being.

#skz drabbles #skz scenarios #skz headcanons #skz fluff #skz x reader #skz imagines #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin scenarios #hwang hyunjin imagines #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin headcanons #hyunjin drabbles #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff

[d10nsaint]

DAPHINE

secretive plotter, kim dokja, yoo junghyuk, yoo sangah x gn!reader [separate]

another request from @rouecentric 😦⁉️🤯 so surprised rn. Anyways i love od but he’s not here because i don't wanna make them all have a romantic setting then have od be the only platonic one bcs he’s like 12.also tagging @elychee bcs they're AMAZING and wrote abt the lcf trio with a plus sized reader and you should really check it out [wink wink] i really tried to make this gn pls tell if it isn't THIS IS ALSO JUST ME SAYING NONSENSE BTW IT MIGHT NOT MAKE SENSE

ʚɞ Kim Dokja;

DOKJA is just happy he has a lover.

Really.

He also loves hugging you after a warm day—you’re just so soft and sweet to him (like anybody would be. hes so

He loves touching you. Hes just such a sucker for affection because he had none when he was younger, and he'd be elated to have someone who could handle his touch and affirm him throughout the day that its okay and they dont mind.

When it comes to your body,he really likes your chest.He lays on it when you both are lying down on the couch or even in bed. But once, one thing led to another on the couch and his head ended up on your thighs. he was literally shaking. His mind was going a million miles per hour and his face went beet red, and it was to the point where you had to make sure he was okay.

ʚɞ Yoo Sangah;

SANGAH is so naturally sweet and was raised in a way that everyone is the same—and thats how she sees people! Of course, not until she finds an s/o whos plus sized. She finally realizes the beauty of plus sized bodies !!

after a long day of work getting harassed, she just wants to go home and settle down in her lovers arms with a book and some detox tea !!

once, she was laying atop you reading a book with your back against the armrest of the couch and her back against yours, and then she realized something—you were very soft. Well, to her, atleast. Ever since, you’ve always been the big spoon!!

Shes never really had impure thoughts about you or your body….in fact, you’d have to bring stuff like that up to her in a conversation because of how little she thinks of it, so i cant really do the thigh thing

ʚɞ Yoo Junghyuk/Joonhyuk;

JUNGHYUK would just be happy that you’d survive a situation where he can't get you both food. ( Idk why i wrote that,i can't go 5 hours without getting hungry)

He’d usually carry you around as a form of training—and never admit it. He also does it just to be able to hold you, but whatever.

He'd be very fond of you (in his head) and try to be very subtle with it-he'd throw you a high grade item and say,'here,you're weak' and if you call him out, he'd glare at you and do nothing else.

By the time that you both are dating, he'd have opened up and really cherished you,hoping to make you happy and give you a life like him of the past would have.

If theres a point where youre dating and not fighting for your lives, he'd love to [secretly] just hold you in his arms and cherish you. It doesnt matter if he's standing up or laying down.He's just so happy to have you in his empty regressor life.

ʚɞ Secretive Plotter;

PLOTTER really doesnt care about body types, even when they come to his s/o UNLESS its very unhealthy.

As i’d suppose that you and plotter would be in a nice,loving and healthy relationship, he’s seen your body—no matter how insecure you are. He loves you no matter what, and nobody should ever dare to talk bad about your body and your habits or else he’d (as I said in a previous post) reign hell upon that person.

Putting the reassurance aside, hes very glad to have a thicker/ plus sized partner, due to how much his body is developed. He wouldnt have to see you as a doll and try to hold back his natural strength with all his might (i mean he still has to hold back) but its better than nothing!

he LOVES to put his hand on your thighs. He can't go a DAY without putting his hands on them, if its meant to be a reassuring caress or a more intimate touch. Male? Female? Something in between? He doesn’t care.

#manhwa #saintspeaks #leigewrites #manhwa x reader #leigetalks #x reader #orv constellations #orv au #orv #orv spoilers #orv x reader #orv omniscient reader's view point #kim dokja #kim dokja x reader #yoo junghyuk x kim dokja #yoo junghyeok #yoo junghyuk #yoo junghyuk x reader #yoo sangah #yoo sangah x reader #secretive plotter x reader #secretive plotter

[creedslove]

Hey its the anon that wrote about pedro character types. I meant more about what they look like e.g, their hair, personality etc! Sorry I wasn't clear enough😭✋

A/N: Hey anon, it's totally alright, I mean, it was completely understandable, I was the one going through a dumb wave and simply didn't get it 🤣 but now I did (sorta, I guess) and I turned it into ✨ HEADCANONS ✨

Javier Peña: Javi likes girls who can handle themselves, he has nothing against protecting you, he is a protective person and of course he will always make sure you are okay, but just so many people rely on him, it feels nice to know you are not helpless 

As for looks, Javier likes well-groomed women, he likes them like a Christmas gift: beautifully wrapped, and that translates into women who take care of their appearance, does their hair, always smell nice, maybe a little makeup too and obvious with the nails done 

Joel Miller: Joel wants… no, Joel needs a woman who's there for him, someone he knows he can count on, and it's not gonna bail on him. He's had enough with Sarah's mom and he seeks that intimacy and companionship in someone who will stick around for him and for his daughter 

Physically, let's say Joel is an ass man and he will worship your ass. He loves those tight jeans of yours and your short skirts that give him access to it. He also likes when his girl takes care of her appearance and looks nice for him, overall, Joel has some low self-esteem and he already thinks you're too good for him, but he is not gonna complain when you doll up for him 

Agent Whiskey: our sweet love broken cowboy… he is touch-starved because after losing his wife, he engaged in only one nightstands here and there, and they're usually all about sex and nothing else, so his type of woman would be a cuddly, warm and affectionate girl. Someone who responds well to physical touch and is able to show that through hugs, kisses, caresses, and well, sex. Jack loves when you sit on his lap and rest your back against his chest 

As for the physical part, he doesn't like women who resemble his dead wife, it disturbs him and he will always keep away from them. He is also a classy man, and he likes his girl to be classy, so it drives him insane when you wear a beautiful and sexy nightgown to bed, the silkier, the more transparent the better. Also, idk why but I feel Jack would have a preference for long hair, as I can picture him gently brushing your hair and even braiding it he's in the mood - a skill he learned when he had to babysit his little sister when he was a teen 

Javi Gutierrez: Javi is such a pure soul, he is kind, sweet, goofy and that's what he expects from his partner, he straights up believes in soulmate and love at first sight, and he will definitely have that with you if you are kind-hearted and nice to everyone around and of course, if you love movies as much as he does. Jk, no one loves movies as much as he does, but if you like movies and if you are open-minded enough to sit through the movies he would like to show *ahem* The Cabinet of Dr.Caligari, anyone? He will appreciate it 

For looks, I don't know if Javi would have a preference, he strikes me as the kind of guy who would fall for someone's soul, no matter how cheesy that is, our Javi is cheesy and that's beautiful because he is beautiful. 

And he also has a thing for taller girls, don't judge me 

Frankie Morales: Aww Frankie is a good husband and good dad and he needs a girl who will take care of him. He also needs someone patient who will be understanding of his coke habit and believe he can do better. And he also likes someone who cooks because that shit he has to eat during missions is just terrible 

For looks, Frankie is a boob man and he will die every time he sees you in a revealing cleavage, he just loves to rest his face in there and enjoy his time 

Dave York: Dave likes a woman who's the opposite of his wife, hence he wouldn't be cheating. He likes a woman being fierce, kinky, someone who defies him and frustrates him at the same intensity it makes his cock go hard, he doesn't want the domesticity, he wants the danger, the risk and the thrill of doing something bad and knowing about it 

And Dave likes any woman he considers prettier than his wife, if you got better ass, better tits and a prettier face, your in, and well, he obviously loves the tighter pussy but just to be sure, he needs to try yours first ;) 

_____

#javier peña #joel miller #agent whiskey #javi gutierrez #frankie morales #dave york #javier peña x reader #joel miller x reader #agent whiskey x reader #javi gutierrez x reader #frankie morales x reader #dave york x reader #javier peña x y/n #joel miller x y/n #agent whiskey x y/n #javi gutierrez x y/n #frankie morales x y/n #dave york x y/n #javier peña x you #joel miller x you #agent whiskey x you #javi gutierrez x you #frankie morales x you #dave york x you #javier peña headcanons #javier peña headcanon #joel miller headcanons #joel miller headcanon #agent whiskey headcanons #agent whiskey headcanon

[donottouchredbutton]

Endlessly Falling

joaquin torres x sunshine!reader/ofc

3k words

she was falling, and there was only one person she trusted to catch her.

set in the same universe as this fic

warnings: angst, fear, canon-typical violence but i think it's pretty vague, reader/ofc has a fear of heights, idk let me know if i'm missing anything

note: idk if this is any good, i wrote it in like four hours unedited while i was trying to distract myself from burnout from work. feedback is always welcome :) also let me know if you notice anything familiar about sunshine's backstory... idk maybe there's something there, maybe there's not. let me know what you think!

She was running for her life. Again. She was really getting tired of this shit. 

She remembered a few weeks ago when the worst thing she had to worry about was getting her essays turned in on time, emailing her professors, and working on her thesis, back when she was just a grad student. Since meeting Joaquin, she found herself in trouble a lot more than she ever expected to be. 

That wasn’t to say this was the first time she’s ever had to run for her life, or that meeting Joaquin was the start of her getting into trouble. Or that meeting Joaquin was her first time helping a superhero. No, she had plenty of experience with this sort of thing. She remembered when she was a teenager the few (multiple) times when her dad’s work followed him home (literally) and having to hide or having to flee her own home just so he could take care of it. Terrifying as it was, she had learned to be good at finding the best hiding spots on the fly. And she still remembered when she was nineteen being trapped in a cage with a monster (who, to be fair, was her dad, but we won’t go into the specifics this time), with the intention of being mauled to death alongside a woman she barely knew. And just a year later, having to travel halfway across the world to help a superhero with identity issues to stop a cult and rescue her dad from said cult (her dad had a bad habit of getting himself into trouble, but he would always tell her that her uncle was even worse). 

Yeah. This wasn’t her first rodeo. And she was positive it wouldn’t be her last, either. 

But she sure as hell didn’t miss having to do this. 

Sam and Joaquin had both understood and agreed initially that they needed her help if they were going to stop this underground terrorist group. Bucky had been on the fence about it at first, thinking her too nice and innocent to get involved, but once she had proved herself in a fight the first time he had realized he had jumped the gun on judging her. She was a formidable opponent while still being able to maintain her happy nature and her positive, love-for-life attitude. 

Which was why she found herself in this position for the first time in years. She hadn’t meant to cause a distraction, she had just been sent by the men on a reconnaissance mission to one of their underground meetings while the three of them tried to take out their base of operations nearby. Even to her, the meeting was much bigger than she had been expecting, and the sound of the men updating her on their progress through her earpiece was only confirmation: they were a much bigger threat than they had initially believed. She had been listening to one of the leaders of the group as he slowly but surely began riling everyone up, his voice raising as he spoke to them about forcing order to the world and subjecting the people who had no care for them. He was nearly shouting at that point, and it was honestly beginning to frighten her. She was so ensnared by his words that the sound of Sam yelling through the earpiece completely threw her off her guard. 

“GET DOWN! IT’S A TRAP!”

The sound of gunshots on the other end of her earpiece caused her to gasp in fear, which caused her to slap her hand over her mouth in dread. She was scared for her friends, but she was also terrified at the sudden silence that happened in the room next to her after she did so. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as what was surely only a few seconds felt like years as she awaited what would happen. She didn’t dare breathe as she waited, her back pressed against the wall to make herself as small as possible. 

“Someone’s here with us. Take care of it.”

The leader’s words were just loud enough for her to hear, but it was more than enough to set her off at a sprint to get out of there. 

She had been running for what had felt like forever when she finally thought to check in with the others to make sure they were okay, and to find out what the hell happened. 

“What the hell happened?” she shouted through the earpiece. 

“They knew we were coming! It was a setup!” Sam shouted back. He and Bucky were fighting off terrorists left and right as they themselves tried to get out of the base. Their initial plan had been to find the leaders at the base and to either a) reason with them and get them to come willingly (Sam’s idea) or b) stop them by any means necessary (Bucky’s idea), but the three men had been met with nearly an entire army once they got there like they knew they were coming. The place had been booby trapped of all things, tipping the group off so that they opened fire seconds later. They all knew that if they were in trouble, she would be too. “Get outta there, now!”

“I’m trying!”

And she was. Unfortunately for her, the place was a maze, and with about ten angry men chasing after her, it was hard for her to focus on where all of the hallways led to rather than just trying to get away from them. Her fear was making it hard to think, and luckily it was making it hard to think about the fear itself. She just needed to get away. 

The sound of Joaquin’s voice in her ear immediately began to uncloud her mind. “Find a way to go up! Stairs, ladder, window, anything! I’ll come find you!”

She wasn’t able to think about how he would be able to do so, but she listened to him anyway. She trusted him enough to believe he was telling the truth. 

Truthfully, Joaquin didn’t know if he was. He had split from Sam and Bucky once they had opened fire, Sam telling him to fly out of there to find their superior and tell them all they had learned about the group. He often thought about what it would be like to jump out as Falcon, but he wasn’t exactly able to reflect on those expectations when he was in the middle of a life or death situation. He thought once he did so that he was in the clear, but there had been a couple of helicopters right outside waiting for him. So, they had air support. Of fucking course they did. 

Joaquin was sure that their superior would get an earful from Sam once they were finally on the clear (if they ever got to that point). He was doing his best to take out the people shooting at him from the helicopters, making sure they stayed focused on him so they wouldn’t start shooting elsewhere, but the entire time his focus was elsewhere. He couldn’t keep his mind off of her, and he was riddled with guilt. 

Joaquin was the one who had fought so hard to convince Sam and Bucky that she could help them on this mission. While they had both known she could handle herself, they were hesitant to let her go into the field with them, especially on a mission like this. She would have to get about as close as she physically could to this terrorist group without them finding out she was there, and they weren’t willing to risk her getting hurt or worse if something went wrong. It was the last thing Joaquin ever wanted, but he saw how hard she fought to convince them. He saw her conviction and determination, and more than anything, he saw that she truly cared. She just wanted to help, and Joaquin knew that. She was running for her life right now because he was the one to convince them to let her help. 

She was in danger because of him. 

He was right about her needing to find a way up. She had found a door that led her to a staircase all the way up to the roof. She took a quick glance over her shoulder to see how close the men were, finding them far away enough for her to be able to lock the door behind her. If she wasn’t running for her life, she would’ve thought about how it definitely seemed like a safety issue for the door to even have a lock, but she was more concerned about buying herself at least a minute or two to get to the top. She didn’t look back again after she locked the door and began to race up the stairs, not until she heard the sound of a gunshot blowing the door open. The information that they did have guns with them scared her more than she thought it would. They liked the chase, and they didn’t want the end to be quick if they did catch her. The thought made her blood run cold, and a new wave of adrenaline filled her as she continued to run. 

Once she reached the roof, once again locking the door behind her to buy herself some time, she looked out to try to find Joaquin anywhere nearby, but he was nowhere to be found. She braced herself as she looked over the edge of the building she was on, and the realization of just how far up she was was quick to set in. She hadn’t realized how long the staircase was nor how far up she had run, but the sight of the city what looked like miles beneath her caused her heart to beat faster for a completely different reason. She could handle most things—monsters, cults, running for her life. Heights weren’t one of those things. 

“Joaquin,” she said. She tried to steady the tremble in her voice, trying to control her breathing. 

“I’m on my way!” he shouted back, trying to dodge the helicopter that was currently shooting at him. He was not on his way, but he needed to be soon if he wanted any chance of getting to her in time. 

The sound of the men chasing her banging on the door to the roof made her jolt, dread filling her veins like venom. They were throwing themselves against the door to get it open. Unsuccessfully, sure, but the knowledge that they had the means to get the door open with their weapons made her believe that this was just a sadistic scare tactic. The thought made her sick. 

“Joaquin,” she warned. She was unable to hide the fear she felt from her voice. Even she could hear her voice shake. 

So could Joaquin, and he knew they were both running out of time. Taking out the pilot in the final helicopter, he set the thrusters of his wings to full power before jetting off to where she was. 

“I’m on my way!” he shouted once again, but he knew that he wouldn’t be there in enough time. Thinking fast, he added, “You’re gonna have to jump!”

Her stomach dropped at the thought. “I can’t,” she whispered. But she knew she was running out of options. The men chasing her would get tired of playing with her, and in seconds they would be out there with her. She’d have nowhere else to go. Her hands were already shaking as the reality of what she had to do was setting in. 

And she was right. The sound of the door to the roof being blown open made her jump, and the sight of the men closing in on her filled her with a fear she hadn’t felt in a long time. 

“JOAQUIN!”

“JUMP!”

She didn’t think. She ran to the edge of the building and jumped, right before they could grab her. 

She’s fallen before. She’s fallen out of tall trees when she was little, her dad constantly scolding her for climbing trees when she knew she might fall, but that’s why she always did it—to get better at climbing without falling. She’s jumped off of high platforms, trying to get down from where she was to try to help someone who needed it. She’s been thrown off of the side of a building before, but even then that was done when she was unconscious. This was something different. Being in free fall for so long, that sinking feeling in her gut never leaving but slowly getting worse as she seemed to fall closer to the ground in slow motion. The air whipped at her as if punishing her for jumping, her fear only growing as it felt like she would be endlessly falling. 

She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think to breathe. She couldn’t think, her mind somewhere up in the clouds that she seemed to remember falling through when she jumped. Her eyes were dripping with tears she couldn’t stop as the cool air burned them as she went. Another punishment, she thought. The air was thin, too, choking her up even more. She couldn’t find her voice, though if she did, she wouldn’t have been able to think about calling for Joaquin again. She couldn’t think about whether he would catch her in time. She just had to continue falling. 

Joaquin’s heart raced as he did, his sights set on her as he flew to catch her. He could hear the fear in her voice when she said she couldn’t jump, it had been clear as day to him that she was afraid to. He hadn’t wanted to make her do it, but he knew she had to. And he knew he would rather die than let her hit the ground. He wouldn’t let her get hurt again. He would make sure of it. 

When he was finally close enough, his arms reaching for her, Joaquin felt time stop. He couldn’t think. The only thing he could focus on as he reached for her was her eyes. Those eyes he had seen could hold such light and happiness as he had come to know her, those same eyes that were squeezed shut from fear and wet with tears he knew she couldn’t stop. Once he was close enough, he wrapped his arms around her tightly, never daring to let go. 

Once she felt him surrounding her, she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, aware enough to not choke him but clutching onto him like her life depended on it, because it did. There was nothing that would get her to let go. And now that he was holding her, she could finally feel herself breathe again. 

They were both silent as he flew them away from the building, away from all of the bad men who wished them harm, away from where she felt for a moment she was falling to her death. The pit in her stomach from falling was gone, replaced with something else she couldn’t place. She still felt sick feeling her insides shaken so much, but it wasn’t just that. She felt a pull inside her, not in her stomach but maybe in her chest. She couldn’t know for sure, still barely able to think or process what was going on. The only thing she knew for sure at that moment was that she felt well and truly safe wrapped up in Joaquin’s arms. 

Joaquin finally landed them on the roof of another building, much much shorter than the one she had jumped from and miles away. With the way she was clutching onto his back, he knew she could use a moment to stand on her own two legs and catch her breath. Once his feet touched the ground, he slowly eased her down as well, taking care to handle her gently for fear of causing her any more grief. His arms didn’t leave her even as she got her footing, nor did they when she leaned heavily against him once she was standing. She was still gripping him for dear life, hiding her face in the crook of his neck. He was sure he was holding her in a similar way. 

“Are you okay?” he asked after a few minutes. He always made sure that she was, and if she wasn’t, he always did what he could to help. 

“…Yeah,” she answered slowly, barely audible if it weren’t for her mouth being so close to his ear. “Just… need a minute.” 

Joaquin knew that they didn’t have a minute. He should’ve already been with his superior by now, finishing up with the debrief as they waited for Sam and Bucky to return as well. But he wasn’t concerned with any of that right now. The only thing he cared about was the woman in his arms, shaking like a leaf as she tried to calm down. For her, he would make the time. 

He readjusted his arms around her so that he was hugging her instead, one arm around her waist while the other came up to her shoulders, his hand holding her head against him and stroking her hair. He tried to steady his breathing in a way that she could follow, willing his own heart rate to slow down as he tried to help her calm down. 

She wasn’t the only one who had felt like they were endlessly falling. The only difference was, his had been slow and steady, hardly noticing it was happening until it hit him all at once. And he knew he would fall again and again if it meant getting to hold her like this. 

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