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jamespotterthefirst · 4 years

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Fake Husband: Part II

The Reckoning

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 1,600 Warning: Some adult language Premise: Ethan pretends to be her husband again to spite her insistent ex. Part 2 of Fake Husband Author’s Note: Seriously guys, the fake dating trope owns me

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The frivolous, over-embellished ballroom was alive with laughter, conversation, and music. He watched with disgust as Boston's elite congregated in clusters, clad in expensive formal wear, champagne flutes in hand. Their ambitious smiles were just as false as their interest in the charities rallying for funds that night. It made him sick.

Ethan took a long gulp of his scotch. Why had he let Naveen bully him into attending the scene of his worst nightmare?

Instinctively, his eyes swiveled to meet hers from across the ballroom. Eyes sparkling even from a distance, she gave him a radiant and characteristically coy smile.

That was why.

Ethan forced his eyes away when he realized he was staring, his throat suddenly dry.

How could he not stare? The deadly combination of a shimmering black dress, dark hair that rippled in waves past her bare shoulders, and a delicate, crimson mouth made her look like a siren who could bring any man to his knees. By the interested glances she was attracting, many present would be willing to let her, Ethan included.

Privately, he made it his purpose to go twenty minutes without seeking her out.

He only managed ten.

By the time his eyes scanned the crowded ballroom again, desperate in their search, she was nowhere to be found.

It was no surprise he found her ten minutes later through the massive arched doors leading to a balcony. What was surprising, however, was that she was not alone. From where he stood, he could see the figure of a man that struck a sense of familiarity.

“I can't stop thinking about you, Lilac,” he was saying. “I don’t think I ever stopped thinking about you.”

With a flash of shock, he recognized him as Lilac’s ex boyfriend, the one who had been wearing a ridiculous turquoise suit on their last meeting. Briefly, Ethan marveled at how his fashion choices remained as deplorable as before. He was wearing a wine colored tuxedo made of velvet.

What a prick.

Lilac was unmoved, her gaze cold as she watched him with disinterest.

It did not deter him. “Do you think about me?”

Ethan’s jaw tensed, clenched fists at his sides longing to connect with his pathetic face.

Lilac, on the other hand, did a better job at remaining composed. Her beautiful, crimson lips remained set in an inscrutable line. “Yes, I think about you sometimes, Alex,” she allowed, voice low.

Ethan’s heart plummeted.

Then, with a vehemence that could strike a man down, she continued, “I think about how much time I wasted feeling something you did was somehow my fault.”

Velvet's shoulders tensed, the words no doubt a blow.

“All of that was a mistake,” he countered in what he, no doubt, considered a reasonable tone. “I never should've–”

“Slept with my best friend?”

“I regret that every day.”

“Which part? Sleeping with her or getting caught and facing consequences for once in your privileged life?”

Goddamn, Rookie.

She pulled no punches. A swell of pride burst in Ethan’s chest.

“In a way, you did me a favor,” Lilac went on mercilessly. “I never would've been free to fall in love with Ethan if you hadn't shown what a bastard you are.”

Love. Ethan clung to the word, enjoying the sound of it when paired with his name, when uttered so fiercely by her lovely lips. It almost made him forget it was part of the act they fabricated to spite him.

The bastard in question watched her with quiet fury, all pretense of politeness or faux charm vanished. “Who are you kidding, Lilac?” he proclaimed with a humorless laugh. “This husband of yours? You can't honestly believe that's love instead of some schoolgirl celebrity crush–”

He never finished his sentence because her hand flew up to slap him, the crack of her hand against his cheek so loud, Ethan was surprised the ballroom missed it.

“Don't seek me out again,” she said coldly.

She moved to sidestep him, but he was quicker, blocking her path with his body.

“Let me go,” she warned, her eyes boring into him.

She attempted her escape again, and his hands moved to stop her. “Lilac–”

“That's my wife you’re about to put your hands on,” Ethan said, his voice dangerously low as he stepped from the shadows, ears buzzing with rage. “And if you wish to keep them attached to your worthless body, you'll rethink that choice.”

They both glanced up at him, Lilac with relief and her ex with irritation. The latter seemed to consider challenging the threat, but his eyes coolly assessed Ethan’s imposing height, broad shoulders, and balled fists.

Hands dropping to his sides, he fixed Ethan with a harsh glare instead. “We’re just talking. No need to get defensive, pal.”

At the word pal, Ethan moved purposefully toward him, fist ready to deck him. Lilac, however, quickly impeded his path, a gentle hand on Ethan's chest.

“He's not worth it,” she told him in a soft whisper. When Ethan relaxed slightly under her touch, she fixed a glare at her ex. “You should go.”

Velvet looked like he wanted to say something else but didn't dare to in front of the man he believed was her husband. After a moment of hesitation, furious glare locked on Ethan, he wordlessly stormed off, disappearing into the crowd of the ballroom.

Once alone, Ethan glanced down at her, taking in her pale face and at once feeling his expression soften. “Are you okay?”

Lilac nodded quietly. “I'm okay,” she assured him.

“How the fuck was he here?”

She watched him with a troubled expression. “I came out to get some fresh air,” she explained quickly. “He followed me. I didn't even know he was at this thing. Apparently, his law firm is a sponsor and–”

The words blurred together in her rush to explain. When she broke off to catch a breath, Ethan shook his head. “I didn’t mean it like that, Lilac,” he assured her gently. “This wasn’t your fault. You don't have to explain anything to me.”

Lilac looked uncertain.

“Seriously, Lilac, fuck that guy. Don't let him ruin your evening,” he said, impassioned.

A tentative smile followed by a deep sigh. “This evening wasn't that great to begin with,” she confessed, voice laced with hints of her usual carefree tone. “Rich people are so insufferable and spectacularly boring.”

Ethan allowed himself to look impressed, his face relaxing into a laugh. “Couldn't have said it better myself.”

There was a small silence in which neither moved away from the other. A soft breeze rustled her hair, making her shiver slightly. Without a word, he removed his tuxedo jacket and draped it over her bare shoulders.

“Thank you,” she murmured, pulling it closer around herself. The gesture, small and seemingly insignificant, sent a wave of warmth through his chest that neither science nor logic could explain.

They were standing mere inches apart, the sounds of the ballroom distant and muted. All Ethan could hear was the thunderous beat of his heartbeat. He wondered if she could hear it too.

Unable to stop himself, his hand moved to caress her cheek, calloused thumb moving delicately over the ridge of her cheekbone. Briefly, Lilac closed her eyes, her own hand resting atop his.

They moved closer to each other still, so close that Ethan could see the cluster of freckles that dusted her nose. When she opened her eyes, her gaze descended to his lips.

It was all it took to shatter the fragile fragments of his resolve.

“Kiss me,” he instructed in a feather-light whisper.

Lilac obeyed, closing the distance and pressing her soft lips to his in a small, fleeting kiss. Ethan’s hand moved to her waist, but abruptly, she broke apart, eyes moving up to meet his. “Is he still watching?” she asked, breathless. Biting her red lip, she added, “You don't have to keep pretending if you don’t–”

“I don't give a damn about him,” Ethan hissed, thoroughly intoxicated by even the briefest of her kisses. “I'm through pretending.”

Untamed yearning pulsing through him, he roughly pulled her to him, their lips reuniting hungrily. In seconds, Lilac’s maddening mouth moved fluidly against Ethan’s, opening compliantly at his silent command. Her hands trailed down the front of his jacket, their warmth palpable even through the fabric, threatening to consume him whole.

Weeks of resisting her proved futile then. His body remembered hers dutifully, his hands gripping her hips to bring her closer still. This was foolishly unnecessary for Lilac urgently arched against him, sending his body into a frenzy.

“Ethan,” she panted, the delicious sound lost against his lips.

The scent of her flowery perfume mixed with the cologne of his jacket and Ethan found it so enticing that he forgot where they stood. Invigorated, his tongue pushed against hers, the small moan this provoked vibrating against his mouth. She retaliated with as much keenness, tilting her head to one side to deepen their kiss.

Ethan groaned.

Neither had the will to separate, their shared breath ragged.

At last, it simmered down to a string of small kisses. Every part of his body screamed at him to resume, his pulse a thundering storm. “Want to leave?” he asked her, pressing a hot kiss to her jaw.

“Desperately,” she sighed, the sound so provocative that it robbed him of his control.

Ethan kissed her again, fiercely, his need for her unquenchable. A small gasp erupted from her mouth as his teeth grazed her bottom lip, the tip of his tongue tracing a soothing line immediately after.

“Unfair,” she said in a heady whisper.

He laughed against her neck. “Have you seen yourself, Rookie?”

Lilac’s eyes fell to his lips again. She grinned up at him, ethereal in the moonlight.

“My lipstick’s all over your mouth,” she said, wrinkling her nose slightly. So gently it was utterly captivating, she moved her thumb over his lips. “Looks better on me,” she taunted.

Ethan, completely entranced, smiled. “Undoubtedly.”

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Prompt(s): sent by @caseyvalentineramsey

2. A small, fleeting kiss - which is immediately followed by a passionate, hungry kiss. 3. A breathy demand: “Kiss me” - and what the other person does to respond. 9. A kiss that lasts so long, they are sharing each other’s breaths. 15. A fierce kiss that ends with a bite on the lip, soothing it with a lick.

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Author’s note: THANK YOU for reading!

Also, I just realized this is too similar to Kelsey’s new fic. It was unintentional but you guys should know we’re like twins so it’s not surprise.

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(I forgot people, I know it. Please remind me because I’m a messy bitch who can’t keep track of her life).

#open heart #open heart mc #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #OHSY #my writing #prompt request #ethan ramsey fanfiction #Ethan ramsey x mc #dr. ethan ramsey #open heart fanfiction #choices fanfiction

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carewyncromwell · 3 years

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Hey guys! So, in the past, I’ve done “inspiration posts” centered around my HPHM MC Carewyn Cromwell, Carewyn’s mother Lane and her brother Jacob, and my HPHL MC Jackson Knightly...and now it’s my HPHL vampire boy Bartholomew “Bat” Varney’s turn!

As hilarious as it sounds, I can actually blame the Twilight films for the initial spark behind Bat’s character. I admit that I’ve never really been a Twilight fan -- I read the first book because of my interest in vampires and the (rather shallow) comparison the mass public made at the time between Twilight and Harry Potter, but the second Twilight book lost me once main character Bella started trying to hurt herself just to try to see her OTL Edward again, and I’ve never picked them up since. Skip about fifteen years, and I get invited to a friend’s house to watch and rib Breaking Dawn Parts 1 and 2. Even if I hadn’t read the books, I knew the overall trajectory of the story, so I was able to basically follow what was going on, but those films were and remain the only Twilight movies I’ve seen. And after seeing them, the main emotion I came away with was absolute exasperation...because the entire time Breaking Dawn Part 2 was playing, I couldn’t give a damn what was going on with Bella, Edward, Jacob, Nessie, the Cullens, the werewolves, or the Volturi. All I wanted to do was focus on one of the most minor, bit-part characters placed in the background -- a vampire who was a soldier in the Revolutionary War and later went on to fight in just about every other American War since, played by Lee Pace, named Garrett. I was absolutely beside myself that we had an engaging, snarky, charming vampire who’d once lived in the 1700′s, one of my absolute FAVORITE historical eras, and he was shunted out of the way to make room for such a boring, stake-less, and kind of dysfunctional romance. I wanted a whole book about Garrett -- I wanted a whole TV series! It still boggles my mind that Stephanie Meyer could create such an interesting character and then only feature him for a fraction of the very last book in a four-part series.

The feelings I had about Garrett sort of lingered in the back of my head for a while, and one thought led to another, and I got to thinking about why I’d even tried reading Twilight to begin with. The answer, honestly, was that vampires was one of the biggest question marks left open in the Potterverse by Jo Rowling. She’s claimed in interviews that she didn’t think she could add anything to the vampire mythos through her work, hence why she referenced them existing, but didn’t feature them much at all in the story. And yet from my point of view, the vampire as seen in traditional folklore sort of contradicts one of the core themes of Rowling’s books -- namely, that death is both irreversible and inevitable. Because of the very diverse ways vampires have been depicted in different cultures and media over the years, there were so many questions left unanswered regarding which powers if any Potterverse vampires have, what their weaknesses are, why Voldemort never looked into becoming a vampire when searching for immortality, what their status in the Wizarding World is, why we don’t see any fighting with Voldemort like we do other “Dark creatures” like werewolves, and how their undead status fits in with the tenant of death being something you can’t escape. And the more I thought about it, the more exciting that potential became -- so I fleshed out a kind of vampire that could answer those questions and fit comfortably in the Potterverse without running the risk of “god-modding” or being too overpowered.

Vampires have more weaknesses than powers -- lessened magical ability, hypersensory sensitivity, the inability to sleep and dream, poor health, and intense and constant blood lust VS. lengthened life and increased durability.

Voldemort never sought becoming a vampire because someone else has to curse you both before and after your death, and not only are you not guaranteed to end up in the body you died in, but your magical ability is close to non-existent.

Vampires are on the absolute fringes of magical society and largely live in isolated colonies, hence why we so rarely see them or know much about them.

Vampires didn’t get involved in the Wizarding Wars because most truthfully don’t want to hurt anybody or create more of their kind by sharing the knowledge of their creation with wizards.

Vampires are similar to ghosts in the way that they died, but returned to Earth and cannot pass on, but are different in the way that they have a physical form and someone else forced them to come back against their will, rather than it being a choice on their part. They’re similar to Inferi in the way that they were brought back from the dead by Dark magic cast by another person, but they have a soul and are so trapped in the bodies they’re cursed into that they almost always outlive the person who originally cursed them and can only be killed through the traditional “stake through the heart and beheading” technique. Vampires also all end up dying sooner or later, whether by their own hand or intervention by wizards after they’ve lost so much of their sanity and humanity that they become dangerous.

With the vampire lore plotted out, I had to go back to figuring out who this vampire of mine was as a person. At that point, I hadn’t had an MC that was a Ravenclaw yet (unless you count Carewyn’s brother and mother), so I decided that could be something fun to explore, particularly if I wanted to steer clear of the brooding vampire trope. (All of the Ravenclaws I’ve known in my life are much less prone to self-loathing and depression than I am. XD;;;) Sure enough, though, one of the influences that popped up right away was Garrett. Like Garrett, Bat was originally from the 1700′s, only to die and become a vampire while fighting in the American War for Independence -- the biggest difference, of course, is that Garrett was an American Patriot, while Bat was a British regular!! LOL!! As I hashed out Bat’s backstory as a Muggle-born wizard who went to war with his best friend, however, I found Bat (or, more specifically, his original human self, Robert) picking up traits from another character -- Sirius Black! Like Sirius, Robert was disinterested in rules and a bit cocky, but also incredibly talented and intelligent and a deathly loyal friend, especially to his male best friend, who was like a brother to him and he would’ve died rather than betray. If Barty was the popular, well-liked leader of the group, Robert was his right-hand man and foil. Sadly, like Sirius as well, Robert also ended up losing his male best friend far too soon and being condemned to a fate worse than death thanks to a betrayal by his other best friend. They’re also both dog Animagi who become surrogate parental figures in later life! ^.^

As Robert, Bat’s face claim is Josh Groban. As a vampire stuck in his BFF Barty’s reanimated corpse, Bat’s face claim is Lee Pace, specifically in his role as Fernando Wood in the film Lincoln.

#hphl #hogwarts legacy #about bartholomew #bartholomew varney #personal #that sketch of robert? that maaaaay or may not be part of something else I'm working on >3

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leo-interactive-fiction · 4 years

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How would the ROs react to meeting mc abbusive ex(let's say the ex walks in to the bar that mc and the ro is at and the mc starts to become uncomfortable)

Ahh, let’s see. Just for the sake of plot, I’ll say the ex attempts to confront the MC in said bar haha.

BI E: E immediately recognize the interloper, blocking their path before they can make it to you. A frown establishes itself on your partner’s lips as they speak harshly, “I’ll give you a chance to turn around right now.” “Or what?” Your ex scoffs. “You’ve lost your opportunity.” E responds darkly while placing a palm on the interloper’s stomach. Before they can react, a shattering impact creates a distorted gust of wind as they’re blasted backwards through the entrance. E wipes their hands clean of the situation.

Restitution R: They smoothly slide into the spot next to you at the bar, blocking the interloper’s approach as they strike up a conversation. R soon becomes interrupted by a rugged hand gripping at their collar, pulling them face to face with the aggressive ex. R showcases a steady smile, “How nice to see you.” “Get lost.” Your ex snarls, causing R’s smile to grow. “Oh, I’m sorry. I was talking to a good friend of mine.” A mountain of a man stomps behind the interloper, resting a heavy hand on their shoulder. R releases a small chuckle as the grip on their collar loosens.

Confident L: L grips your arm, hiding you behind them as they steel the majority of their nerves to prevent themselves from stepping back at the interloper’s approach. “I-I would ask that you please leave--” L is cut off by the aggressive interloper gripping at their collar and pulling them ruggedly. “Get lost.” L steels themselves and grips the aggressors wrists, “I’m afraid you leave me no choice.” They pull and twist the interloper’s wrist, turning and using their momentum to leverage them over their shoulder. Your ex’s back hits the tiled floor with a heavy thud, knocking the wind out of them. The bar staff makes quick work removing the unwanted presence from the area.

Soldier V: V quickly switches positions with you as the interloper steps close, who isn’t even allowed to finish their aggressive command before getting pistol whipped and collapsing to the floor with a pained groan. The previously bustling bar elapses into silence as V slowly hunches over the interloper, clearly showcasing the barrel of their gun in your ex’s line of sight. V’s clouded eyes bore intensely into theirs as they ask a single question with quiet severity. “Are you a threat?” The interloper answers with a muted shake of their head. “Goodbye.” V stands up, following the interloper’s hasty retreat with a muted disinterest.

Competition P: Standing in the interloper’s path to you, P becomes the target of your ex’s aggressiveness.The error of their decision becomes apparent as a rugged hand moves to grip the firebrand’s collar, only for a scarred hand to catch their wrist in a constrictive grasp. “Who the hell are you?” Your ex’s brow furrows as they muster, “Get lost--” Their bravado escapes them as the sound of cracking bones emanates from their wrist. P scowls furiously at the wincing interloper, “Let’s try this again. Who the hell do you *think* you are, tough guy?” Upon their silence as they attempt to muffle their pain, P lets go and pushes them away, “Get out of my sight. I’m trying to enjoy myself here.”

Alternative M: As the interloper steps up and moves to grip M’s collar, a sudden chill envelops their fingertips, and creeps its way down their hand. The interloper steps back as M steps forward, an innocent, unconcerned smile resting along their face. “My my...your skin...looks quite...blue...” Their thin, airy laugh releases an opaque mist from their mouth. “What the hell...?” The interloper stares in disbelief as the thin layer of ice begins encroaching their arm. M hums worriedly. “It must be...too cold here...for you...Why not...stand outside...?” M presses their hands together in finality as they watch the interloper enter into a confused and panicked retreat.

Therapy Ra: Raven’s body freezes as the interloper’s rugged hand grabs at their collar, their voice harshly grating. “Get lost.” Raven’s hands slowly grip their aggressors wrist, and you watch intensely as a dark smile creeps into their expression as they begin answering. “I was just leaving...” A sudden flicker of light passes, shrouding your vision for a second. When you regain your sight, Raven and your ex are no where to be seen, replaced by a sense of deep forboding. Raven releases a cackling laugh as they stand over the shocked interloper, the dry heat baring down upon them in the desolate desert environment. “I don’t like to disappoint anyone, you know. Whether you live or die, I play no part. Fate will decide your course now! Choose your path and pray it gives you mercy!”

Troublermaker S: They lean on the bar, idly turning a glass as they look sidelong at the interloper walking through the entrance, their path to you going directly through S. As the two meet, S places their glass down. “There ain’t any more seats here, bud. Try in the back.” “How about you move?” Your ex begins moving to grab S by the collar, only to have them swat the hand away. S grabs a nearby liquor bottle and smashes it across the interloper’s skull, kicking the dazed individual into a nearby table of guests while calling out, “Bar fight!” Their riling rouses several guests, who begin tossing glasses and tables, scattering wild laughter and throwing punches. As the rests of the guests begin getting caught up in the confusion, S grabs your wrist with a roguish smile, “Looks like it’s about time we hit the road.”

Royal F: They sit with straight posture at the bar counter, looking idly up from their drink at the approaching interloper. They gain the bartender’s attention with a poisonous remark, “I was not made aware your staff brought refuse in from the street.” The bartender’s eyes widen, “No, of course not, Your Highness.” “Perhaps it is time you have them dispose of the dregs, then.” As the interloper reaches F, they aren’t able to get a word out before a mountainous man halts their progress. F watches with hollow amusement as the interloper is dragged outdoors and into a nearby alley. The sounds of shattering bone and desperate cries is drowned out by the bar’s enjoyable ambiance.

Thank ya for the ask! Hope ya enjoy haha

#triaina academy #romance option #paths

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katsukikitten · 4 years

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Hell Bound 2

Katsuki notices that with each howl of the wind you snuggle deeper into your scarf, often checking your jacket sleeve to make sure all of the buttons are secure. He knows that they are all neatly fastened as he did them himself but there was nothing he could do about the biting air seeping into your bones.

All the while you drink in the sight before you, thoughts swimming with the swirls of the ornate roof tops, staring up at the large gate to the shrine.

A harsh wind carries with it the threatening scent of snow causing your teeth to chatter, Bakugou elbows you then. Palm held upwards towards you. Hesitation grips onto your body as you look up into normally harsh scarlet eyes.

“I won’t bite, damn.” He says, nudging his open hand against your fist. You see a small blush creeping along his cheeks and take the rare opportunity to tease him.

“What if I want you to?” It comes out as a flirtatious purr, earning you a quick glance from Urarka-san who quickly turns away with flushed cheeks as she reads the language between you two.

A deadly smirk washes over his kissable lips as you take his palm, he leans in lips beside your ear as he speaks in a husky tone.

“Then I won’t disappoint.” What he wants to do is bite your ear then but instead he pulls you along towards the whole reason why you were here.

The Ema are neatly stacked, both the clean slates and the filled ones as you approach the covered walls. Markers are piled nicely by the clean slates as you grab one, suddenly feeling the weight of all of the wishes in the open courtyard.

You stare at the small plank of wood before deciding on your wish.

Scarlet eyes watch closely as your fierce handwriting dances across the board.

‘Happiness for my friends’

His lip curls, as he is about to tell you that you’re supposed to wish good fortune for yourself he watches an idea form in your head. You grab for another board and try your best to hide what you are writing from your tethered friend.

‘A boyfriend too please I don’t need one but it would be nice’

He bites back his snort, watching you place it gently among the other planks when you turn to face him he acts disinterested, his free hand shoved deep into his pocket. He feels the chain pull as you reach for what he thinks is your third wish before he finds the wood being pressed into his chest.

“What’s this?” He snarls out of habit, somehow you do not shrink away or growl back as you normally do. He begins to wonder if all of this time bound together has gotten you so used to his gruff attitude.

“You have to make a wish too Katsu…” You clear your throat, “Bakugou.”

He stares down at you harshly, the capped marker and corner of the wood beginning to bite through his jacket, he sighs.

“You can say Katsuki ya brat.” He grabs for the wood with his left hand, “Now how am I supposed to write?”

“I’ll angle myself like this.” You turn your body closer to his blocking your left wrist and his right, “Now we look like an overly affectionate couple and people won’t look.”

You giggle at the end, he tells himself not to like the sound.

But one can only lie to themselves for so long. He stares down at the Ema not knowing what to wish for for the first time in his life.

Before he would have known what to write without question, ‘Number One Hero or else Kamisama’ but now he finds himself at loss.

Then the marker moves on its own as you furrow your brows in question.

‘I wish for her safety and happiness’

Had Bakugou have a crush that you were unaware of? Regardless you smile almost stunned that he would write a wish other than himself.

He places it then offers you his hand to which you take without any hesitation, snuggling into his warmth anytime the wind whipped through your jacket.

“Y/N! Y/N! Good news! Kirishima lied to Sensei and said his project was locked in the classroom. Sensei agreed to letting him in! Kirishima is going to grab random papers and the key tomorrow! Aren’t you excited?!” Mina throws herself onto you, flashing her boyfriend’s phone with waiting for approval.

“I think they are starting to look like a real couple though..” Denki says nudging Kirisima, earning a glare and an elbow to the ribs. Scarlet eyes gauge your reaction, your hand loosens just a hair, pulling Bakugou’s heart.

“It’s just pretend though….” You gulp, eyes holding some emotion that Katuski cannot place, “We actually don’t like each other much.”

With that Bakugou drops your hand barely letting his fingers brush against yours. Your heart sinks into the pit of your stomach, push past the feeling lacing your fingers back with his own.

He glares down at you with a heated gaze, if you ever had a chance before you sure as hell ruined it now. You gulp but choke on the lump in your throat as you’re guided to the train to return home.

💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣

The day yawns into night, the two of you choosing to opt out of the festivities to count down the New Year and instead retreat to your room. Bakugou is far from tired despite today’s adventure and the lack of sleep the night before. He is tense as he replays the day, memories fixating on you from both lack of choice and repetition. He sighs when your skin brushes against his but he cannot deny that it relaxes him some. He fishes for his phone, using his left hand as much as he can to avoid disturbing you, that and he is not sure if he would be able to resist your touch should you curl any closer to him.

‘We actually don’t like each other much.’ The words echo in his head causing him to suck his teeth.

He scrolls idly trying to let social media consume him only for his feed to shove couple pictures down his throat. Todoroki and Momo at the shrine, Kirishima and Mina at the shrine.

Fucking Deku and Urarka at the shrine, he goes to exit out of the gram when he spies a picture of the two of you.

Looking every much a couple as the real ones. You’re looking up at him some type of way, your look softened and seemingly only for him. Your hands intertwined as he gazes down at you.

This was when you were pressing the Ema into his chest with blatant force.

Had you looked at him like that then?

Damn you were a good liar weren’t you?

He goes to the home screen searching for anything before he reluctantly plays an old mobile game.

Reluctant only because he has been stuck on this particular level for much longer than he’d like to admit. The colors of his screen start to catch your eye, capturing your attention as the answer jumps out at you. You take your cuffed hand and swipe across the glass before it flashes three out of three stars.

“Oooii”,” He growls but begins to fly through the levels behind it, “Did ya fucking look it up?”

You giggle that damn giggle again before turning your attention to your own phone.

“No, just a fresh perspective.” You begin tapping at your screen smiling as you do. Curiosity gets the better of Bakugou as he grabs for your phone.

“OI!” It is your turn to shout as he holds the phone away from you, pressing yourself into his body as you attempt to reach your phone, “Stop!”

“Why? I just want to give you some fresh perspective on your game.” He smiles wickedly before turning the screen to face him. He blinks slowly as he digests what is on the screen. An animated man dressed to the nines, a slight flush to his cheeks. Obviously trying to avoid whatever affection MC is giving him.

“Is this one of those fucking OTME games?” He snorts, “You get the recommendation from Denki?”

This time he laughs and embarrassment melds hot with rage in your cheeks. Scarlet eyes rove over the three options as your fist finds his solar plexus.

“OOOF”

You snatch your phone before settling down, he turns onto his side to watch you play. You glare at him as he gestures for you to go on before you stare at your screen. Unsure what option to pick, five minutes tick by.

“Oi, what are you waiting for?” He hisses interest fading fast, you bare your teeth at him before admitting.

“Look, this is the character I’m after…” Before you can finish he picks the middle option, you’re furious, there is no replaying this scene without starting over. If this leads you to a bad ending you’ll just have to kill Bakugou Katsuki.

Where you expected a shake of the tough guys head instead comes a bigger flush.

‘B..baka…Don’t say such things so frivolously…’

You watch the screen flash the character’s main portrait with the intimacy level filling all the way up. Something you had yet to be able to do.

“How did you…” You stare as you begin to prepare for the next part of the story.

“He’s a fucking tsundure. They act all tough but they’re all soft and shit.” He yawns as he watches you play quietly for the next twenty minutes. The men on the screen seem to pine for your attention, saying all sorts of devotions. Were you always this hungry for attention and affection?

You didn’t act like it during class or even when Denki tried to ask you out. In fact you seemed cold only ever spiking any sort of emotion when you were around Bakugou.

And that was solely ever wrath or rage.

The thought snakes its way to his heart, coiling it in a tight vice. He swallows thickly, it does nothing to alleviate the pain in his chest.

“Is this what you want in a boyfriend?” He asks aloud, he notices the dusting on your cheeks.

“Well…” You start but cannot bring yourself to finish. Your man of choice flashes across the screen. Hand held out, eyes averted as he says something so damn sweet. Bakugou sucks his teeth beside you.

“I could be a better boyfriend.” He selects your option for you again, you think for sure he is going to sabotage it this time, but your “intimacy” levels all the way up once again. You side eye him while crimson eyes bore into your screen.

“You? A boyfriend?”

He thinks of your wish, he thinks it wouldn’t be so bad to fulfill it. Shit he had to be better than a virtual one.

Then again a virtual one hardly ever had a real temper.

“Yes me, a boyfriend.” Is his only reply. Your brain goes into hyper drive as you let the question sink in.

“Wa…wait are you asking me out?”

“FIVE!” The rest of the class downstairs begins to shout, reaching all the way up to the two of you enveloped in the intimacy of your room. Somehow you deepen in hue as you become hyperaware of your proximity

He holds your gaze carefully biting the inside of his lip.

“FOUR!”

“Depends, you might not like me once we are uncuffed. You claimed you’d rather be tethered to grape shit head than me. ‘We don’t like each other much.’” His voice dips dangerously low as he repeats your words back. He tucks some hair behind your ear as your heart races.

“THREE”

“I…” Words lodge in your throat.

“TWO”

He can no longer deny that he wants to be some sort of happiness in your life, especially so after seeing that you’d rather turn towards a program than a human being for any sort of affection. He watches your lips in the low light, you do not speak further but you do not avert your gaze.

“ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!” The rest of the class screams from the common room. Bakugou’s body moves on its own accord as he leans in kissing you gently, bringing in the new year with you. He goes to pull away, staring into your glittering eyes, stomach twisting as he thinks of your laugh

Of your smile

And how selfishly he wants it all for himself.

“The offer still stands after we are freed tomorrow.” With that he turns onto his side giving you his back.

‘B…baka’ Your phone echoes out in the darkness, you lock the screen and stare at the ceiling as if it had the answers.

It gives you nothing but more questions in return.

#bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #bnha au #bnha imagine #bnha otme #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo

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walkersdrake · 6 years

Text

Perfect Stranger

AU one shot in which Drake is a substitute teacher, Liam is the best friend behind the scenes, Maxwell loves to party (a little too much) and a stranger seems to be the only person in the world right now that makes any sense.

Oh, and there’s the guy downstairs that won’t stop playing his violin.

Word Count: 3,675

Pairing: Drake x MC

Warnings: Incredibly innocent, fluff basically (almost?)

A/N: This was based loosely off the song Perfect Stranger, originally by Katy B and Magentic Man but I prefer the cover by Marina & the Diamonds. Take a listen here.

Also, this is my fic! I’m reposting it on my new and improved blog :) hope you all enjoy it just as much as the first time!

Drake had no intention of going out tonight.

Sure, it was New Year’s Eve and yes, Drake is a recently single guy of only twenty-six years old, but he was in no mood to being out and about.

The break up was hard on him. Not only did it happen three weeks before Christmas but it happened in the worse way possible: through a two-and-a-half-minute phone call filled with most of the talking coming from Andrea and Drakes every so often “uh huh” and “okay.”

Drake doesn’t even remember how the conversation went. He remembers his stomach dropping when she said, “we need to talk,” and his smile wiping away completely when she continued with “we should break off the engagement.” She didn’t just break off the engagement however, she also thought it would be best they saw other people.

“It’ll be a little break,” she had said sweetly. Drake responded with one final “okay,” as he walked through the door of his house and found half his stuff (well, Andrea’s stuff) gone.

He knew that it wasn’t a break and his thoughts were confirmed when he was walking downtown one afternoon and saw her sitting in a café with some guy’s arm wrapped around her waist.

He knows it was all his fault, especially once he realized that Andrea had begun distancing herself from him as well. Everything eventually become too much for him and he found himself at Liam’s more and more. Still, he found himself telling Andrea he loved her even though the words tasted bland on his tongue.

In all honesty, Drake was bored. He was bored of Andrea, bored of the same routine (read: waking up, going to work, grabbing a smoothie before coming home, and watching TV until he fell asleep again) and he was real fucking tired of the man in the apartment below his playing the violin at nine in the freaking morning.

So why go out on New Year’s Eve when all he was going to be was bored? He’d much rather stay home and be disinterested inside.

Because Maxwell wouldn’t allow it; not when there were two parties to attend to. Especially since Maxwell needed a wing man and Drake was his first choice.

“Why don’t you take Liam?” Drake had asked as Maxwell pushed Drake into the bathroom to take a much need shower.

“Because you need to stop moping around, it’s fucking lame,” Drake had been wearing sweats and a t-shirt but Maxwell pushed him into the shower anyway. “You better be ready in 20 minutes. I’ll be in the car.”

Drake huffed, turning the water from cold to warm and peeling the soaking wet clothes off his body and placing the pieces in the sink next to the shower. He can’t make me go out. He thought, rolling his eyes. Still, he found himself reaching for the shampoo and lathering his dark brown hair with it because it’s Maxwell and when Maxwell turns on his Maxwell-ness on full power, there’s no stopping him.

Drake knew there would be a better chance at sneaking off once Maxwell became distracted anyway.

Finally, Drake got out the shower and picked out a very fashionable outfit of black jeans, a white t-shirt, and his signature denim jacket.

As promised, Maxwell was parked out in front of Drakes apartment building. Drake got in the vehicle, grudgingly buckling his seatbelt and rolling his eyes.

“Man, tonight I’m here for you too,” Maxwell announced, putting the car in reverse and pulling out of the parking spot. “You need to move on, it was bound to have happened anyway.”

Drake looked at Maxwell with knitted brows, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

Maxwell paused for a beat before proceeding cautiously, “We just noticed that you had been distancing yourself from Andrea before the break-up, anyway. It’s kind of unfair for you to assume she would stay while you moped around.”

Drake was taken back, not because of what he said (he knew deep down it was true) but because Maxwell, out of all people, was calling him out.

He nodded, “you’re right, man.” God, that sucked to say.

Maxwell pulled up to a big mansion that was just outside of the city. Drake looked around, noticing people were all over the lawn meaning that there would be double the amount of people inside the actual house. He sighed, getting out of the car and following Maxwell towards the front doors of the mansion. The music was easily loud enough to not even have a proper conversation with anyone and people were already noticeably drunk. Maxwell immediately began mingling while Drake stood there debating whether to follow him or make a run for it.

He decided to make do with the open bar, serving himself a whiskey on the rocks (he was taking it easy tonight, apparently) before walking upstairs to look for a place to enjoy his drink.

He had opened the door to a random room, hoping no one was in there hooking up. Thankfully, it was vacant except for the huge bed and most likely super expensive interior decorating. Drake looked around before stopping in front of the vanity and looking at his reflection.

The man in the mirror, he noticed, hadn’t shaved in a while. He wasn’t full on “survivalist” beard but there was enough scruff to make him realize how long it’s been since he properly taken care of himself. Drake shook his head, walking away from the mirror and towards the balcony.

The view was much more different than the chaos out in front of the house. It was dark out but Drake could make the trees that made up the forest, swaying softly with the light of the bright moon blanketing the sea of dark green.

“What a view,” Drake found himself saying, amazed. He had always loved forests as it was the one place where he could truly feel care free.

“I know, right?” A voice behind him said, causing Drake to break out his trance in a scare and turning around quickly to match the voice to a face.

She was a lot shorter than Drake, with raven black hair except for the red towards the bottom of it. Drake took note of her laid-back fashion, she was wearing light blue ripped jeans and a pink t-shirt with a pair of white converse.

“Is this your house?” He asked her, wary of the fact that he was technically in someone’s personal space.

The girl laughed, “God, no!” She took a step towards Drake and stood next to him, admiring the view, “I was at another party here about a month ago and came across this room when I wanted a chance to breathe.”

Drake smiled (wait, he smiled), getting a chance to get a closer look of the girl. Her light brown eyes still pierced through with the help of the moonlight which also accentuated her olive skin.

“It’s not polite to stare, you know,” she looked at Drake who in turn blushed like a school boy and looked away into the distance. She probably thinks I’m a creep. Still, he couldn’t help the fact that he was attracted to her and it took all his might not to take another glimpse of her face.

He took another sip of his whiskey.

“Whiskey, huh?” The girl spoke up again, turning her body to face his. “What’s the story?”

Drake turned to her, brows knitted in confusion. Was it that noticeable that he was going through some shit?

Still, he still felt comfortable enough to tell this complete stranger what he was going through because there was just something about her. Drake barely opened up to Liam already and they’ve been best friends forever. “A break-up,” Drake finally said after a long pause.

“How serious was it?” She asked, taking the glass of whiskey out of Drakes hands.

“We were engaged,” Drake sighed, he hadn’t actually talked to anyone about the break up.

Sure, Liam tried to get him to talk about it because apparently, a text message with the words “we broke up” were too vague or something. Maxwell didn’t push him but insisted they go out for drinks instead. It’s not that Drake was emotionless, it’s just that he rarely liked to talk about his feelings anyway.

So here he was, telling this girl the story of his failed relationships—complete with details—while she listened intently.

“It sounds like you’re just feeling guilty,” she responded boldly. Drake was taken back a bit by her words.

“I saw you come in,” she began, walking back into the room and sitting down on the edge of the bed. Drake followed her without even thinking, his heart beating a little faster when he processed that she had seen him come in.

“You had this sort of air of melancholy around you.”

Oh.

So it was REALLY noticeable.

“It sounds like you were both stringing each other along because you were used to each other and not together out of love anymore,” she continued. “I think you’re feeling like this because deep down you’re guilty about the fact that you stayed with her when you knew she didn’t deserve that.”

Drake was really left speechless this time. Of course, he knew that he wasn’t the best boyfriend towards the end of the relationship but he hadn’t known if he was hurt because she left or because he felt guilty.

“You need proper closure, I think,” she took a sip of his whiskey, never breaking eye contact with Drake. “For now, at least try having a little fun.”

“I don’t remember the last time I went to a party I enjoyed,” Drake replied, honestly.

She smiled at him and Drakes heart responded by skipping a beat. She stood up taking Drake by the hand and pulling him up to his feet. Drake didn’t say anything, as all he could focus on was the sudden burst of energy when she placed her hand in his.

The girl led him out the room towards the party. It was about 11:30 PM now and people were starting to pour into the house to watch the ball drop on the big screen. Drake let himself be led by the girl, catching a glimpse of Maxwell juggling for a group of people.

“Dance with me,” she said, swaying her hips. She placed her forearms on Drakes shoulders; his immediate reaction being to tense up completely.

“I don’t-I’m not, I’m not really good at it,” he yelled over the music.

“Sure, you can,” she giggled. “May I?”

Drakes only response was to nod. She pressed her body closer to Drakes, wrapping her arms around his neck and once again swaying. She stared at him intently, with a huge smile on her face, completely care free of the world.

He began to let his guard down, finally getting into the motion of the intimate dance. He gently placed his hands on her waist, smiling at the girl that has been in life for about half an hour but still managed to make him do a lot he hasn’t done before.

They stayed like this, swaying to the sound of whatever song was playing until eventually the music came down. Everyone began to turn their heads toward the screen as the countdown began.

Drake felt time slow down at around 5 seconds. He carefully turned towards the girl next to her, face in awe. In that moment, he felt like a new person. He wasn’t sure if it was the moment or the time or her.

He turned to look down on her, “may I?”

It was as if she knew what he was asking without having to say it out loud. She nodded and as soon as the party goers began to yell, Drake gently placed his hand behind her head, his other on her waist, and brought her towards him, bringing in the new year with a kiss.

His first reaction was that she tasted like cherries. Then his second reaction was that he really didn’t want this moment to end.

And then Maxwell interrupted.

And then he threw up all over the floor.

“Jesus, Maxwell,” Drake said, exasperatingly. “Let’s get you out of here.”

“Here, let me help,” the girl said. Placing one of Maxwell’s arms over her shoulder. Drake mimicked her gestures with Maxwell’s other arms and they were soon outside of the mansion towards the car.

“Hi, I’m Maxwell” groaned, coming to his senses. “I see you’ve met Mr. Angry-Pants-Drake over here.”

“Let’s get you into the car,” Drake muttered. He took the car keys from Maxwell’s pocket, unlocking the door. The girl proceeded to lead Maxwell into the car, buckling him in and shutting the door quietly as he dozed off.

Drake moved to the driver’s seat of the car, thankful that he didn’t go further with the whiskey. He pulled out of the parking spot, carefully maneuvering the vehicle to not accidentally scrape the cars there were around them. When he finally pulled onto the street, Maxwell woke up again.

“Where are we?” He asked, leaning over and resting his head on Drake’s shoulder.

Drake gently pushed Maxwell’s head towards the window, “heading home before you make a bigger fool out of yourself.”

“Who was that girl?” Maxwell mumbled.

Drake opened his mouth to respond and froze. He replayed the events of the night over and over again, trying to remember every detail of it.

“Damn it!” Drake smacked the steering wheel, to which Maxwell responded with a groan.

He never got her name.

Now Drake was pacing back and forth in his room, grabbing his hair as if doing so would telepathically bring the girls name to his mind.

It was a series of wanting to curse Maxwell out, damning himself for being stupid enough to not ask her name, and realizing how dumb he was to have even left the party without saying goodbye.

He looked at the time on his phone, realizing he had been breaking his head for a little over three hours.

Walking to the bathroom, Drake took a long look at himself in the mirror. He took a deep breath before unlocking his phone and calling a number he never thought he would need to. Andrea picked up after about four rings. Drake was speechless at first, the memory of the day he walked in to her gone rushing back into his mind.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “I realize I had been a crap boyfriend to you. It’s just, I think I got too comfortable with being comfortable that I didn’t see that I was affecting someone else and you didn’t deserve that.”

Taking a deep breath, Andrea responded, “I think we both were.”

“What do you mean?” Drake asked.

“We both got comfortable with the idea of security that we didn’t realize that we had fallen out of love a while ago. I think I stayed because I thought maybe someday the love would just magically return,” Andrea said confidently. “I did love you, Drake, but I knew I could love and be loved and also be unworried, you know?”

Drake smiled, “Yeah, I know. I’m really sorry. I do wish you lots of love and luck though.”

“I forgive you,” she said. “Good night Drake. And good luck.”

Drake woke up to the sound of Maxwell rummaging through his kitchen. Checking the time to see it was 11 AM, he got up to look at what he was up to.

Maxwell turned to Drake, “Where are your painkillers? Also, you really need to invest on some new couches.”

Drake rolled his eyes, rolling out one of the cabinets and finding the bottle of ibuprofen for Maxwell.

Maxwell took the medicine, finishing the entire bottle of water in the process.

“What happened last night?” Maxwell asked, opening another bottle of water and taking a sip.

Drake chuckled, “you threw up on the floor of a very expensive house we’ll probably never go back to.”

The memories of last night came rushing back to Drake as soon as he spoke. He grabbed Maxwell by the shoulders, making sure he had his undivided attention.

“Listen, Maxwell,” Drake started. “There was the girl last night and I didn’t get her name but she was really cool but I was stupid and left without saying goodbye or getting her name and you better know it because I’m partly blaming you.” Maxwell furrowed his eyebrows, “what girl? What did she look like?”

Drake began describing her like some lovesick school boy. Maxwell sort of listened because well, Drake was his best friend but also because he was super hungover and was hoping Drake would get him coffee if he recognized the girl.

“Sorry man,” Maxwell shrugged. “It doesn’t ring a bell.”

Drake exhaled deeply in annoyance, “well whose party was it?”

Maxwell shrugged again, “I don’t know. I was invited by Kim who was invited by someone else.”

Drake closed his eyes in defeat. His arms fell to side before his right hand came back up to rub his temple. He knew deep down he couldn’t completely place the blame on his very annoying friend because it was literally Drake who forgot the first when meeting literally anyone new.

“Get dressed,” Drake sighed, accepting defeat. “Let’s get coffee. You’re paying.”

Drake Walker stepped into the café where two weeks ago, he had seen his ex with another man. However, this time he didn’t feel confused or vulnerable. He walked in with a new stride, knowing deep down he wasn’t actually hurt from the breakup (Andrea helped him realize that they sort of had been over even before it was official) but that he guilty, as the perfect stranger had told him the night before.

He had an epiphany, right there in the line of the coffee house. He was no longer letting the idea of comfort and security dictate his life. He had been a substitute teacher for years and he never did anything about it for no real reason other than “that’s just his job.” He made the decision right then and there to apply to teaching positions because dammit, he had the credentials for it. He also made the decision to move apartments once his lease was up because A) That apartment was sort of a chapter in his life with Andrea and B) he might end up with his mugshot on the news for breaking his downstairs neighbor’s violin.

Once the barista asked for his order he ordered the same thing as always—black coffee.

But this time he got four sugars instead of three.

Drake and Maxwell sat at a small table by the window. Maxwell had objected to it because of the sunlight but Drake insisted. They sat there for a while talking about meaningless things when Maxwell suddenly moved his sunglasses up (yes, he was wearing sunglasses indoors, it was THAT bad).

“I don’t know if I’m just sobering up but that looks a lot like the girl you described,” Maxwell said.

Drake turned his head slightly out of fear of it being too good to be true. Yet, Maxwell was right. There she was, walking down the strip with the same white converse she was wearing last night. Drake had thought she looked beautiful last night but now, with the sun glistening against her olive skin, she looked angelic.

Drake shot out of his seat and rushed out of the café. She was already almost out of distance—God she walks fast—when Drake made a beeline for her, hoping he didn’t look like some mad man.

She whipped around as quick as Drake got to her, “I have pepper spray!”

“It’s just me!” Drake announced.

“Drake?”

Drake nodded his head, smiling. He was out of breath but he hoped that it wasn’t noticeable.

“What are you-“ she began before Drake cut her off short.

“What’s your name?” Drake asked immediately, because he would be damned if he let her walk away again without putting a name to the face that had him up all night.

The girl smiled, looking up at Drake with eyes that could make him melt right then and there.

“Victoria.”

For some reason, Drake felt a sense of relief wash over him. He thought she might have been mad at him for ditching her as he did last night and he was about ready to place all the blame on Maxwell.

“I’m sorry about last night,” Drake started. “I got so preoccupied with getting Maxwell home that I left without saying goodbye. I was ready to spend the rest of my life wondering what would have happened if I had just gotten your name.”

Victoria giggled, which sounded like a melody to Drake’s ears. He found himself chuckling along.

“Well, you know my name,” she responded. “What’s gonna happen now?”

Drake smiled big this time. He looked down at his shoes before looking back up at her, nervous about speaking to her now.

“Well, I’d like to take you out. Except not right now because Maxwell is still hungover in the café right now and he already interrupted one moment we had,” Drake’s stomach felt like a thousand butterflies had suddenly erupted. The fact that she was absolutely perfect to him didn’t make this any easier either.

Victoria blushed, “I’d like that.”

What was it about this girl that had Drake question his entire life in one night? He smiled to himself as she jotted her number down in his phone. In the pit of his stomach he knew he was in for a ride with this one. The thing is, he wasn’t sure he even wanted to get off.

“Uh, Liam’s calling,” Victoria handed the phone over to Drake. “Take it, I don’t mind.”

Drake answered the phone in confusion, bringing it to his ear slowly.

“Hello?”

“Why is Maxwell telling me he just helped you find the love of your life?”

#drake x mc #drake walker #the royal romance #the royal romance fanfic #the royal romance one shot #drake walker fanfic #mywriting #perfect stranger

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