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sirthisisa-wendys · 3 years

Text

Repeat Offender: Rindou Haitani x Fem!Reader

synopsis: Bonten!Rindou knows exactly how to get your heart: Money, booze, and a lot of flattery.

wc: 1.6k

tw: NSFW

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song recommendation:

"Why won't you just let me have you?"

The question is posed as Rindou Haitani has you (willingly) pinned against the wall of the private office, your hands fiddling with the edge of your skirt.

"You're always in my dreams, and--"

"I don't mix business and pleasure, Mr. Haitani."

"I can't sleep anymore," the man whispers, leaning into you and pressing his erection against your thigh. "Don't you want me?" You look away, partially denying yourself, and partially revealing your attraction. "You smell so good, too. Is that Dior?"

"I have to go," you whisper, pushing off of the wall and out of Rindou's grasp before gathering your files and leaving the office in a rush. Rindou straightens his tie, his eyes following you as you hurry back to your office down the hallway.

And at that moment, Rindou determined that he wouldn't let you slip away a second time.

Even if he had to break a few necks or spend thousands of dollars to have you.

_____________________________________________________________

You're walking out of your apartment when you see the flashy two-seater pull up, the familiar face of your colleague flashing through the window. But it's not a workday.

"Y/n!"

You try to reach for your car keys, but you find you can't quite move, and Rindou is already getting out of his vehicle. "Get in," he breathes, but you stand your ground, looking at Rindou in the eye with a straight face. "Listen, I wanted to apologize for yesterday."

"Don't worry about it." Your fingers suddenly work as you try to fish your keys out, and you touch your key fob as Rindou walks up to you, eyes serious.

"Come on. We're going shopping." When he grabs your wrist, you let out a soft gasp, but follow him to his car anyway. When you're safely inside, he drives off, humming along with the classical music playing in the car. You try to keep your eyes on the road, but you feel something pooling in your stomach at the thought of one of your flashier co-workers taking you shopping.

"Do you do this with every girl you find attractive?" The question slips out without prompting, and Rindou looks over at you curiously.

"No. Just you." When you arrive at the upscale shopping center, you bite your lip, looking at all of the signs for labels you can't afford. Rindou seems to notice your hesitation and places a hand on your waist, smiling at you with his violet eyes. "Where do you want to start?"

_____________________________________________________________

"You know all of this won't buy my affection."

"I know," Rindou murmurs, looking down at his watch and sighing as the valet takes his time fetching the car. "But it can sway it, right?" The assistant holding your items behind you is panting with the exertion, and for a moment, you feel bad for them. Rindou had encouraged you to buy whatever you wanted, waving his hand and having the shops charge it to his invisible account. He even encouraged you to try on lingerie, but you'd declined to do so, alternately purchasing an expensive robe and calling it good.

When the car arrives to take you away, you reach over to grab your bags. "Uh-uh." Rindou swats your hand away and you shrink back, watching as he opens the trunk and then your door. You slide into the seat, watching him hand the valet and assistant a hundred-dollar bill each, then getting into the car himself.

"Where to next?"

"My place." You swallow hard as Rindou weaves through the lanes of traffic, wondering if you'd really make it to his undoubtedly fancy residence in one piece. Should you really be going to your co-worker's home? Especially after he's bought you thousands of dollars worth of custom clothing, accessories, and Williams Sonoma items? "Don't worry, I won't try anything." Rindou whispers as he pulls up to the gated community, flashing a small smile in the guard's direction.

The metal gate squeals open, revealing houses you could only imagine in your wildest dreams, and Rindou drives on, chuckling at your shocked expression. If you thought that he lived in a fancy house, you were wrong.

He lives in a mansion.

"I live here with my older brother, but he's out of town for the week." The comment is accompanied by the opening of another gate, and Rindou drives through it, clearing his throat. "We have a few rooms to choose from should you want to stay the night."

Stay the night?

"Is there anything you want to eat?" He wonders innocently, parking the car. "I can let the chef know."

"Um..." You stare at the white stucco mansion in awe, blinking a few times before you hear Rindou laugh, getting out of the car.

"I'll let you think about it, sweetheart." Your stomach leaps at the nickname, and you exit the car before he can open the door for you.

"Mr. Haitani, welcome back." A maid greets Rindou at the door, her eyes roaming over your appearance with interest. "Should I prepare a room for Ms...?"

"Ms. Y/n. Yes, thank you." You walk past the marble foyer and statues of famous figures around the staircase, following Rindou up the red-carpeted steps and to the second floor. "There's an infinity pool out back if you want to take a dip and a steam room as well. If you get hungry, the kitchen is on the first floo--" Rindou's phone rings suddenly, and you stand akimbo as he picks it up, frowning. "Talk to me."

Your eyes look out of the windows overlooking the backyard - which is filled with a koi pond, the infinity pool, and a few lounge chairs placed around the edge of it. You question how much he and his brother paid for this monstrosity, just as Rindou finishes up his phone call.

"I have to go for a little bit. I should be back within an hour, so make yourself comfortable. I apologize for the intrusion." Rindou takes your hand and gives it a quick kiss before walking down the stairs and leaving you alone.

You find yourself at the edge of the infinity pool an hour later, full of pasta cooked by the chef and dressed in the one-piece black swimsuit you bought earlier. You unwrap the towel from around your waist and dip a foot into the semi-cold water before immersing yourself in it and paddling to the edge of the pool in the evening light.

There's a steep drop-off at the edge, shielding your fall only with a thick border of glass. You suddenly imagine Rindou making business partners who displease him walk over the edge and fall down into the nothingness below. Well, there is something. But the marble slab looks quite far down, and really uncomfortable to drop onto.

"You're going for a swim, huh." You turn to see Rindou walking toward you, a smile on his normally serious face. "Mind if I join you?"

"But you're in a suit." Rindou raises a brow, taking off his jacket and tossing it onto the ground before undoing the buttons on his shirt. And you can't help but watch him undress, revealing the massive tattoo scrolling down his left side. You look away as he takes off his pants, and you don't look back at him until you hear him splash into the water, swimming to you under the water. "Rindou!" He resurfaces just before he reaches your legs, grabbing your shoulders and laughing without restraint.

"Come here, pretty girl," he chuckles, pulling you close and pressing his lips against yours. The kiss is tender, almost too tender for Rindou Haitani, but you lace your arms around his neck and his hands slide down to your waist. When he breaks the kiss, you whimper softly, and he leans forward again, cupping your face and kissing you over and over again. "Is this okay?" Rindou finally asks, his violet eyes searching yours.

"Yes," you exhale, eyes fluttering open. "Yes."

Water splashes around your hips as Rindou grinds into you, holding you close as his erection grows, again, rubbing against your thigh. You tangle your tongue with his, releasing all doubts and inhibitions before lean back, letting him kiss down your neck.

"We should take this to the shower," you whisper, and Rindou hums.

"Anything you want, baby."

Your moans fill the bathroom as Rindou slides against you, breath hot on your neck as you lean against the tile with his hands roaming over your backside.

"Should probably fuck you before we clean up."

He presses the head of his cock into you, groaning as your slick lubricates him enough so he can slide past your lips before pulling out and pushing back in. "So tight..." You bounce back on his dick, taking control of the interaction as he grunts and moans, holding your neck in his strong hand. His other hand creeps down to your folds and parts them, fingers hurriedly searching for your clit. When he finds it - you jerk in his palm and that lets him know - he rubs it with two fingers, making small, quick circles. "You're so wet for me."

"I want it so bad," you keen, and Rindou nods.

"I know. You've wanted this for a while, haven't you?" His voice in your ear is sinful, but you nod, closing your eyes. "Yeah, I know you have." You gasp as his hips drive into yours, making a slapping sound in the shower.

"Rin... ah, I'm..."

"Gonna cum for me? You gonna cum, beautiful?"

"Yes, yes, yes..." you pant, gripping the wrist that's attached to the hand rubbing your clit faster. "I--" You inhale deeply, pulsing around Rindou's cock as he continues his motions, leaving you a shaking, moaning mess.

"That's a good girl," Rindou hisses, kissing your jawline. "Now give me a few minutes to draw one more out of you before I cum, okay? Think you can handle that?"

"Anything you want, babe. Anything you want."

#rindou haitani #rindou smut #tokyorev smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #rindou haitani x reader #Spotify

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missmonsters2 · 3 years

Audio

Close to You

Edit: gif by giuliacommissions

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader/OFC

Prompt: I’ll keep you warm. Hold me closer.

Note: As we all know, Wanda Maximoff is the love of my life. A break for softness bc Between the Lines will be angsty and sad for a while 👀

Warnings: this is fucking soft™

Genre: Fluff

Count: 3453

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The world is beautiful.

The sunlight's warmth caresses your cheek, a light wind running its breeze through your hair. The only sound you can hear is the soft music playing and a light snore. The smell of pine wafts through the air as you drive at a steady pace. There's no rush; you are exactly where you want to be.

You hear a slight mumble to your right, and you turn over to see Wanda shifting slightly in her seat but doesn't wake. Her eyes are closed as she curls as much as she can in the passenger seat.

Your lip curves upward gently as you turn your attention back to the road.

You think of the girl beside you.

The world is beautiful.

And it was worth saving.

You constantly have to remind yourself of that fact. Otherwise, you don't think you could get up anymore.

Defeating Thanos had taken everything.

Natasha was gone. Tony was gone. Vision was gone. Steve was not gone, but his hip would probably break if he moved the wrong way, so fighting was out of the question for the old man.

So many people were still gone, and the world never felt so lonely.

You lean your head against your fist towards the window, feeling more of the wind against your face and hair. Taking a deep breath in, you let it out slowly through your nose.

Another noise beside you draws your attention back, and you find Wanda waking slowly. She's a little disgruntled, and the side of her hair has lifted and looped from her sleep.

You bite your tongue, holding in the words that want to come out.

Wanda is absolutely charming.

Still, Wanda turns her head to you a little too quickly, unintentionally catching your thoughts. Her cheeks dust a light rose color as she runs her fingers through her hair to straighten herself out.

"Hey," she rasps, still groggy. Grabbing the water bottle between the two of you, she takes a long gulp, finishing with a light sigh.

"Hey, sleepyhead," you smile. Wanda looks apologetic, but you just chuckle it off.

Wanda looks out the window, breath hitching just ever so slightly at the view. She likes that it feels like the world could go on and on forever in the car with you. The trees look lusher, the air seems crisper, and even the sky seems a little happier--if that makes sense.

"Where are we heading today?" Wanda asks patiently.

Every few days to a week is always new, and Wanda has been on the road with you for a while. She's learned that sometimes you have a place in mind and the other times? You're just driving until you decide you like where you are.

"To Lake Cushman," you tap the steering wheel with your index finger in a slow, steady rhythm. Wanda hums as she rolls down her window too to feel the breeze on her skin.

The rest of the drive is serene. The two of you enjoy the ride, listening to the same song over and over again.

When you get to the lake, you park the car, and Wanda goes to the trunk to help you carry things out. Wanda spends her time at the edge of the lake blowing up the inflatable boat you packed along manually.

You smile.

It wasn't always like this. In fact, Wanda wasn't even someone you were really close with. Of course, you were a team, and you wouldn't hesitate to have her back in a battle. But Wanda used to have her own world with Vision, and that world existed far from you.

It wasn't until the funeral that the two of you really noticed each other.

The funeral left you with a hollow feeling. You stood with Clint and Wanda for a minute more before you turned to leave, muttering about contacting you if something happened.

You were a traveler, always have been. Being an Avenger never changed that.

You hugged Morgan and Pepper before you went to your car to pack things up.

"Can I come with you?"

The sudden words made you turn around.

Wanda stood there, the rim of her eyes red from crying and also trying to hold in the tears. Her legs stood together straight, but she held her hands together in front of her tightly, revealing she was worried about you rejecting her.

You stared at her for a long moment.

"Of course."

The first few weeks to two months of traveling was strange. You're not sure what possessed Wanda to ask you if she could tag along. You're not sure what possessed you to say yes.

Wanda didn't talk much, still grieving just like you. That left the road trips with tons of silence. You weren't really sure of what to think about the company or her specifically. The only time Wanda had ever seemed happy was with Vision, and now he was gone.

But still, you think you could pinpoint a certain day that things seemed to change.

"No powers."

Wanda frowned. "Why not?"

"It's my rules when traveling. If you want to tag along, no powers unless we really need it." You stood firm with your stance.

The two of you were on a hike, particularly a long one with a lot of inclines. Wanda wanted to float her way up--generously offering to take you as well, but you said no.

"You think showing our powers would be dangerous?" Wanda scrunches her brows together with a slight frown on her lips.

"No," you blinked.

"Then, why?" Wanda asks exasperatedly.

You sigh, looking at the girl before you. "Wanda, there are times when efficiency is good. Like when our lives are at stake, or we're in a battle or a mission. Powers are wonderful when we need to save others."

You turn your head to look around the scenery. "But look around here," you tell her, your peripheral vision catching Wanda doing as she's told. "Right now, it's just you and me on a hike. The world isn't falling apart, no fight that needs to be fought, and we have absolutely no rush to be anywhere."

You turn your head back to Wanda's, catching the other girl's vibrant but confused eyes. "For people like us, we generally don't have the luxury to waste time. But if we get the chance the smell the flowers along the way, shouldn't we?"

Wanda stares at you. Blinking once, then twice.

And then a tentative, shy smile blooms.

"I used to hate the sky."

The comment is said so quietly you almost miss it, but it breaks you out of thought.

You move your head further to the side, catching Wanda, who is still staring at the sky. The two of you lie on your backs on opposite edges of the inflatable boat.

"Yeah?" You say as you move your head back to look at the sky along with Wanda. A warm leg moves and presses against yours, and you think about how wonderful it is to be able to share the same sky with Wanda. "Why?"

Wanda is silent, seemingly shocked because no one has ever asked why. So, she presses her lips together, trying to formulate her answer.

"I guess...I hated that the sky always seemed to pass by," Wanda sighs as she closes her eyes. "It was like time was passing by, and I didn't get the chance to notice it. I'd wake up when it was still dark, and by the time I was done the day, it was dark again."

At this point, Wanda can't tell if the warmth against her leg is hers or yours. All she knows is that she wants more of it.

"I guess you don't hate it anymore?" You chuckle a little, knowing you and Wanda spend most days relaxing in the sun.

Wanda opens her eyes, staring at the clear blue sky. The thought of how she's always learning something from you crosses her mind.

For example, if they have the luxury to enjoy the flowers along the journey, they should.

Or oranges can be very flammable.

But Wanda has come to realize things on her own too.

Like how life is made up of moments, and if she decides to be just a little brave, she can get the moments she wants.

"The sky is beautiful during the day," Wanda concedes, but she bites her lip as you hum. Taking a deep breath before swallowing. Her moment of bravery comes in the form of sliding her hand across the small boat, her fingers just meeting the start of yours. "But I no longer mind when it's dark when I wake up and dark when my day ends if I am with you."

You turn your hand over, palm facing up as you curl your fingers to just hook Wanda's fingers.

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You're the first to wake up from your slumber. You don't even remember falling asleep. After having enough of lounging in the boat, you took Wanda on another hike. At the very top, you packed food along with a blanket. You and Wanda sat under the shade, watching the horizon just beyond the valley with soft talks about hopes and dreams.

There's a sadness in Wanda that you don't think will ever go away, but you watch her with slow eyes as she talks about how it would be wonderful to exist in a tiny evergreen lush island.

Wanda has a lovely complexion with rosy cheeks as she looks at her hands, talking about an island that may only exist in her dreams. Her long lashes draw you in, and you wonder if it's terrible of you to notice such things.

You check your watch, noticing you only slept for half an hour, and look over to Wanda, who is curled against you. She sleeps peacefully as there's still plenty of daylight out. You look up, the sun passing through the leaves and branches above you.

Wanda sniffles slightly in her sleep. You turn over to find the girl shiver just once, shuffling closer to you to seek warmth.

As you take your jacket off to drape it over her, you wonder how and when you got pulled under Wanda's spell.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The day comes to a quiet end after dinner and sitting by the campfire. The wonderful thing about your car is that you can push the back seat down and make a little bed to rest in.

The back is filled with pillows and blankets, and as you have your pillow propped up with your back against it, you can look out the back window of your car and into the skyline outside.

Perhaps it's because the two of you have slept most of the day, but sleep doesn't come as easily at night. You've got your Bluetooth speaker playing music in the background to relax you.

"I can't sleep," Wanda mumbles and sits up. You chuckle as Wanda props her pillow up, too, with a sigh.

She rests her head back, looking through the sunroof, and gazes at the stars.

"Do you want me to turn off the music?" You ask, but Wanda shakes her head, hair falling from her ear as she does.

"No, I probably napped too much today."

"Our sleep schedule is going to get fucked if we keep napping during the day," you snicker. "I guess we should find more things to do during the day than a hike. I was thinking maybe we could start going into town to do things."

"Like what?" Wanda asks.

You shrug. "Go to museums, actually eat at a restaurant, watch movies in a theatre. I don't know. Anything we want to, I guess."

Wanda gnaws on her lips because all those things sound like a date, and her fingers thrum against the floor in anticipation. She looks at you, blinking while you stare back, unsure.

"I'm cold," Wanda states, leaving you in confusion.

"Oh, uh..." You stutter, feeling your body tense. "Do you want more blankets? A sweater?"

Wanda stares at you with a tilt of her head. "No."

You press your lips together, opening the blanket just a little from where you are, and offer your arms to the other girl. Wanda may be using all the courage she has, and you realize now is not the time to be dense.

And it's worth it when Wanda can't help but smile as she scoots closer into your arms as you hold her, pulling the blanket up to her shoulder.

There's a certain tingle on your skin. A pit in your stomach, a warmth that spreads through your chest when Wanda's body presses against yours. The way she lies against across your chest while you cradle her in your arms. The smell of cinnamon and orange blossoms permeate the air you breathe, and even though you're in the middle of nowhere, you feel like you're home.

Wanda sighs in contentment. She likes the way you don't say anything else, and the only words that float through your mind are lyrics from the song playing in the background.

The hours pass like it's nothing, and soon, the sun rises steadily. The sky becomes a palette of colors you've seen a million times. You've seen every color of the sky. But seeing everything again with Wanda is different.

You hold Wanda tighter in your arms, becoming more daring as your fingers trail across her arm covered by her shirt. The scent of her hair flirts with you as your fingers trail up her arm until you trace her bare collarbone. The way Wanda breathes is noticeable, filling her chest as it rises and holds.

Your hand drops and Wanda tilts her head to look up at you.

The sky is no longer just pink and orange. It's cotton candy that trickles far and wide. It's the color that reflects off of Wanda's skin, hitting her eyes, and for a moment, you think you saw a glimpse into the future.

"Why me?"

The question holds nothing but soft wondering. Within the words, Wanda suspects you mean why did she ask to come with you that day?

Why now?

Wanda licks her bottom lip.

"Why did you say yes?" She counters back.

You don't say anything. You try to think of an answer, but nothing comes to your head. The truth is you don't know why. You just looked at her that day, and you couldn't have pictured yourself saying no.

Wanda shifts, looking back at the sunrise.

"Did Stephen ever tell you there's millions and millions of realities out there?"

You sigh with a grimace, "Yes, so many times."

Wanda chuckles raspily, and you feel the vibrations against your chest.

"It's strange, isn't it? To think so many versions of you exist out there, that every reality would be different from the one we exist in today," Wanda lifts her hand from out the blanket, holding up and letting the sunlight filter through her fingers.

You don't say anything and only listen to Wanda because this may be the most she's spoken since coming on this trip.

"I loved Vision," Wanda says finally. "I don't think I will ever find a love I had with him again."

You blink, unsure what to make of that statement. You understand it, you really do. You'll always be understanding of her grief, and yet, your tight arms around her begin to feel awkward.

Wanda chuckles again, dropping her hand back down on your arm to keep it in place. "And that's okay."

"I have lost so much," Wanda's breath shutters for a moment. "We both have."

You swallow slowly, trying to not like the pang of pain distract you.

"But as much as I have lost, I've always gained something. I've lost my parents, and that led to gaining powers. I've lost my home country, but I gained a family with the Avengers. I've lost Pietro, and I gained Vision. I've lost Vis," Wanda swallows, "And I gained you."

"So, when you ask why you," Wanda licks her lips, "It's because I'm no stranger to loss. Even though grief has come to my door again, I know something good when I see it. And I saw you. I saw this moment."

"This moment?" You scrunch your brows together. It's such an odd moment to see, and yet so much of Wanda's behavior over the last six months made more sense.

Wanda sits up, turning to face you as the blanket draped over her slides down her back. Hands pressed against the ground on either side of your legs, she leans in close. You catch specks of the sky in her eyes, but this one isn't just the cotton candy that's just outside.

You catch specks of all the beautiful lush green trees you've seen. The sea and the sand the waves push up against. You see the white sun and shy hands that inch closer until they meet.

A hand touches your jaw, shyly sliding further until Wanda holds your cheek.

"Are you cold?" She murmurs, feeling the lack of warmth from sitting upright the entire night.

"Yeah," You mumble as Wanda leans closer and closer until you can feel her breath on your lips.

"I'll keep you warm," Wanda whispers, and you feel the brush of her lips. "Hold me closer."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"You know, I wish there was a way– that I could let her know. That we won." Clint looks over at Wanda. "We did it."

"She knows--they both do." The rim of Wanda's eyes is red as she looks out onto the lake. Clint gives her a side hug that she returns for a long minute.

"You know where to reach me if you need me," you mutter, turning to leave the two alone.

Wanda looks at your retreating form. You didn't shed a single tear at the funeral, but she did not blame you. She had recognized that kind of grief on herself once upon a time, and she knows it's the kind that hurts more than any crying could.

Clint eventually bids his farewell and takes off, leaving her alone to gaze out onto the lake.

More tears well up, and Wanda isn't sure if she should let them fall or will them to magically go back into her eyes. It seems she decided too slow, and the tears well over down her cheeks as someone comes to stand next to her.

He takes a deep breath, holding his hands behind his back.

"I'm sorry for your loss," he politely passes his condolences.

"Me too," Wanda says without breaking her view.

It's silent for another minute.

"You know," Stephen squints as if that will let him see further. "I went through 14 million realities to see which one where we would win and only came out with one."

"If this is supposed to make me better, it's not--"

"Hear me out," Stephen cuts Wanda off. "In every reality that we manage to bring everyone back, including the one where we win, there was only one thing consistent."

Wanda laughs humorlessly. "And what's that?"

"You are grieving, yes, but," Stephen turns to face Wanda, causing her to turn to him as well. "You gain something so, so very beautiful."

Wanda's brows furrows, confused at what Stephen is trying to hint at. It isn't until he turns his attention to something that she turns too, stunned.

It's you, slowly packing your car.

"Strange, isn't it?" Stephen muses like he's talking to himself. "14 million realities, and every single one you return in, you gain her."

Wanda stares at you, unsure what to make of what Stephen is telling her.

"Why her?" She mumbles.

Stephen grins.

"I think you're a smart girl, Wanda," he tells her without answering her question. "I think if you let yourself, you'll see something good. You'll see her, even if you are grieving."

Stephen places his hand on her shoulder, giving her an encouraging squeeze before he walks away.

Wanda stands there, still looking at you while she tilts her head just to the side slightly.

And she's not sure what happens, but she sees something in her head.

A cotton candy sky, the light barely visible. She sees pillows and blankets in the back of a car. She hears the same song playing over and over in the background.

Wanda sees you.

She sees you in a light she's never had before, in a way she didn't think was ever possible.

"I'm cold," you whine, and Wanda sees herself smiling as she leans closer.

"I'll keep you warm," she sees herself bold and wanting. "Hold me closer."

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch imagine #wanda x reader #avengers imagine #mm: my fics #genre: fluff

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shredsandpatches · 2 years

Text

sunday snippet (sex and candy edition)

(There’s not really any sex except for two sentences at the end that aren’t explicit)

Having finished drafting Richard’s coronation scene, I thought I’d go back and work on Anne’s while I still have the Liber Regalis pdf out. Not that I used it at all for this particular scene.

On a somewhat related note: I’m a big fan of Christopher Monk’s “Modern Medieval Cuisine” blog, in which he’s cooking his way through the Forme of Cury in preparation for a book about it, and the most recent blog post (which is about candy, hence the connection) actually concludes with a bit of what I’m just gonna call NOVELTHING FANFIC.

It has been dark for hours when Anne is finally finished with the banqueting, and when Richard comes to her chamber she has been dressed for bed and is sitting on the bed with two of her ladies, the tall thin one with sandy hair and the shorter one with black curls (Richard is still working on learning their names). All three of them are giggling, eating comfits and sipping wine. Clearly, she’s feeling better than he did after his own coronation, a good sign certainly. The ladies both leap to their feet, curtsying, and Richard motions to them to straighten up. Anne says something to them in their language—they all giggle some more, and the two ladies curtsy to Anne as well before leaving the chamber.

“Agnes and Margaret have been teasing me since the day of our wedding,” Anne says, picking up the bowl of comfits and patting the mattress invitingly. “But they will get married eventually and then they will see.” She grins brightly as Richard sits beside her, and feeds him a piece of candied ginger; the sweet spicy heat makes his eyes water. “Their husbands will not be quite so wonderful as mine, though,” she adds, and draws him in to kiss his lips.

Richard laughs. “I’ll find someone nice to introduce them to.” He reaches into the bowl of comfits to snag a few more—a few cinnamon pastilles and a piece of candied orange peel. “I’m glad to see you still have an appetite,” he says. “After my own coronation I thought I’d never want to eat again. I couldn’t even look at the after-dinner sweets!”

“Poor Richard,” Anne says, reaching for a sugared almond. “Thank you for coming to see me today.” She wriggles closer to him, and he wraps an arm around her as she smiles up at him. “It was a little frightening—I know why you could not come properly, but I knew you were there and that made it much easier.”

“You looked radiant,” Richard says, giving her a tight squeeze and kissing her hair. They have been married for only two days, and already it feels perfectly natural, snuggling in bed with his new wife, relaxing and eating comfits and talking about their day, even when the day involves a once-in-a-lifetime event.

Anne leans into him, resting her head on his shoulder and putting the bowl down to drape an arm around his waist. “It was frightening,” she says, “but it was also exciting. I do not know how it is for boys, and of course it is different when you are the heir to the throne, but if you are one of several sisters, you are hardly ever the center of attention. Unless someone is asking for your hand, and that does not come with a feast most of the time, and if it does you spend it worrying about not being good enough, and whether you are going to marry someone you will actually like. But now that is all over with, and I have found a wonderful husband, and I am a queen.” She looks up at him with a grin, and adds, “I think I liked it.”

Richard grins back at her. “You deserve to be the center of attention,” he says. “You certainly have mine.” He picks up the comfit bowl and feeds her a piece of candied orange peel; she takes it delicately in her mouth and captures his fingertips between her lips for a moment. Richard can feel himself flush, but in a nice way.

“You are sweet,” Anne says. “Sweeter than anything in this bowl.” She reaches up to draw him into a kiss.

“Do you know what part of the coronation ceremony I especially liked?” Richard murmurs. Anne shakes her head with an anticipatory smile. “I liked the part where he talked about the chastity of royal wedlock, or whatever it was.”

Anne giggles. “It is almost as holy as being a virgin,” she says. “My saintly ancestors will have no reason to be ashamed of me.” She rests her head on his shoulder again and cuddles close to him. “I think lying together in holy matrimony must be like a sacrament itself,” she says. “When I am close to you, I know I am close to God as well.” She stifles a yawn, without much success. “I would like to sleep a little, first, though. Before we make love. If that is all right with you?”

Richard smiles and presses a kiss to her forehead. He can smell the chrism in her hair. “Anne,” he says, “when I was crowned, Sir Simon had to carry me out of the church, and then they delayed the banquet so I could sleep. And then I threw up at the end of the night. I’m amazed by your stamina as it is.”

Anne giggles sleepily. “You were just a little boy, though,” she says. “And a king. I am sure the ceremonies are much longer for kings than they are for queens.”

“Oh, probably,” Richard says. “But if you need rest, you need rest.” He kisses Anne’s forehead again, collects the comfit bowl and puts it on the table, and then climbs back into bed to wrap his arms around her.

Later that night, between first and second sleep, Anne kisses him awake, and then climbs on top of him. They do it again in the morning.

#the novelthing #sunday snippet #richard ii #anne of bohemia is my forever girl #otp: my derlyng is a bundel of myrre to me #note also the obvious foreshadowing early on #anyway they are cute and i love them #...that was already in my tags OH WELL

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bearlytolerant · 3 years

Text

Fandom: Dragon Age

Pairing: Solavellan (Modern AU)

Ch Rating: T

Ch WC: 2169

AO3

Chapter 7

Another day at the office. Editing, emails and the ever elusive caller that enables equal opportunities for playing phone tag. A game Solas never enjoys participating in. The morning slides by and Varric is at his desk, twirling his keys around his finger.

“Lunch?”

Solas glances up and sighs. “I’m trying to get a hold of Seeker Pentaghast. Sera said she had more info on an agent that might have a lead on Crystal Red.”

“That sounds like a lot of maybes and probablys and a whole lot of I don’t give a fuck. You’re allowed to take a break and get some lunch.”

“What if they call while I’m away?”

“They can leave a message. Now let’s get out of here before we don’t have any time at all for food.”

Solas shoves back his chair and follows Varric. “I did pack a lunch today,” he mentions.

“Save it for tomorrow then. I’m craving some street tacos and there’s a truck just up the road. I’ll buy so you don’t have to worry about it.”

“I am less concerned about finances and more concerned about getting food from a truck.”

“Ah, live a little Chuckles,” Varric says as he gives Solas a whack on the back.

“If living a little, as you say, means spending two days on the toilet. Perhaps I do not wish to live a little.”

“Well come with me and grab something else. I’m sure there’s something you’d find worthy of your tastes nearby.”

A half hour later and Solas is holding a taco that’s worth the regret he’ll experience from his future self. Some chipotle mayo dribbles down his chin and he swipes it away while pulling out his phone.

He checks his messages. One from Sarya and one from Veda. He taps on the one from Veda first.

Connor went home sick. Pick me up after school today?

He checks the time and swears. How did he not realize he took such a late lunch? She needs to be picked up right now. He dials her number as he stuffs his arms into his coat.

“Veda needs to be picked up,” he tells Varric as he shoves the remainder of his taco in his mouth.

“Got you covered,” Varric replies.

He mumbles a garbled, “thanks” then takes off down the street. Solas is just a block away from his car in the parking garage when she picks up.

“Hey papae!”

“Hello. I apologize. I just now saw your text. I will be late.”

“No worries. I can always watch the band practice until you get here.”

“I will be there soon.”

“Okie doke.”

He says he loves her and hangs up. Sprints the rest of the way down the street, half choking and wishing he’d at least drank some water but makes his way to his little car without incident. He hops inside. Starts it and zooms out of the garage. He’s speeding which has him checking his rear view mirror constantly. But of course, the city has a million stop lights and he hits every red one. He gets to her school later than he ever intended.

He parks, shoving his glasses all the way up his nose, and searches for Veda at the stadium. He spots her in the bleachers, chin resting in her hands and her copper braids coming undone in the breeze. He takes the stairs to meet her two at a time.

“I am so sorry to make you wait,” he says as he wraps her in his arms.

“Seriously, papae. It’s not a problem at all.”

“But what if it had rained? Or stormed like yesterday?”

“I would’ve just stayed inside. Besides, that didn’t happen.”

He sighs, berating himself a little internally. Then he walks with her back to the car. Slides in and clicks his seatbelt in place.

“What’s this?” Veda asks.

Solas glances over at her. She has Sarya’s camera in her hands. He hadn’t even noticed it there. He calmly says, “a camera.”

“Pssh, obviously. But I don’t remember you having a camera.”

“It’s a friend’s,” he says. “We went out for lunch and they must’ve left it.”

“Oh,” she says. “How was work today?” She’s still fiddling with the camera.

“It was work,” he says. Thankfully she easily dropped the subject. “Not much was accomplished.”

She gasps. “Your friend is so pretty. You’ve never mentioned her before. New coworker?”

“No. Just a new friend I met.”

“She looks familiar—and she’s a wonderful photographer. Maybe we should have her take some pictures of us. We haven’t updated our family photos since I was ten.”

“That’s a wonderful idea Veda. However, my friend is only visiting for a short while. I’m not sure there would be enough time to squeeze some family photos in.”

“Bummer. You look so happy around her.”

“I don’t always look happy?”

“You look a different kind of happy with her. It’s nice.”

He takes her words and holds them close to her chest. “Anything interesting happen at school today?”

“Yeah,” she says, then she unloads a multitude of stories. How one of her friends got their tooth knocked out by a basketball in gym. How she accidentally used Elvhen in her Tevene class and didn’t notice until the whole class was just staring at her.

“Did you feel embarrassed?” he asks as they pull into the garage.

“A little. But I mostly found it funny. The way the other kids looked so confused.”

“Does anyone treat you differently when you speak Elvhen?”

She shrugs. “There’s a couple of kids who say stupid things but I don’t hang around them.”

“Veda, I’m happy to speak with the administration if your having trouble with other students—“

“While I appreciate that, I can handle a couple of kids who are jerks.”

“Very well but if you ever—“

“I know.” She slings her backpack in her back then kisses his cheek. “Can I go to Varric’s house? I want to see the cats and hang out with Cole for a bit.”

“Yes, so long as you check with—“

“Already did.” She steps out of the car. “Going to drop my stuff off inside then I’ll see you later.”

“Text me when you want to leave. I’ll pick you up.”

“Okay. See you later, papae.”

Solas sighs. He’s glad she still talks to him and he still gets to see her but there’s also this tiny ache in his chest that misses her always being around the house. But he reminds himself that this is a good thing. It’s just new and he pulls out his phone to read his messages from Sarya.

Hey I’m going to try and stop by your work around 3:15 today.

I stopped by your work but you weren’t there. Saw Varric though! He introduced me to everyone and it was fun! I really like Sera. She’s hilarious! And Merrill was so sweet! Anyway, hopefully I’ll see you sometime soon. 😉

—

“I fold,” Sarya says, she takes a drag from her cigarillo. Then throws her cards face up on the table.

“Already?” Han asks. “What a shame.”

“Your mind must be elsewhere, Sarya. I’ve never known you to throw a game,” Vilanti says as she shows her cards.

Han takes the game and lets out a whoop as he gathers them all to shuffle.

“I still can’t believe Dallen just up and left us. Did he say anything to either of you? About his plans.”

Both of them shake their heads.

“It’s really odd.”

“I don’t know why you care. Easier to keep yourself from using him. Easier for him to be happy this way,” Han says.

“Ouch,” Vilanti grimaces, then gestures for all the cards to be handed over. She shuffles.

“I do agree with that actually. It’s just that most who move on from our happy little family tend to give us more of a notice. We didn’t get to give him a proper goodbye.”

“I don’t mean to sound callous here Sarya, but you were the only one who cared about the guy. Makes sense why he moved on.” Vilanti deals.

Sarya picks up her hand and stares straight through the cards. “That’s not true.”

“Basically,” Han argues. He draws a card.

“Sometimes you both are mean.”

“Not mean. Just honest,” Han says.

Vilanti draws. “On another note, I heard Makon made a new friend today.”

“What?” Sarya nearly drops her cards. “Our Makon? Makon—stoic, quiet, unsociable Makon?”

“Yep. Met her at the gas station. She was passing through on her way to Wycome and her motorcycle broke down. He fixed it up for her on the spot and they exchanged numbers I guess.”

“What the fuck?”

“Good for him,” Han says.

Sarya draws a card. “Yeah, seriously. I hope that works out.”

“Our next gig is in Wycome and he plans to see her then.”

“Was it love at first sight or something?” Sarya asks. She folds and picks her cigarillo back up. Her interest in cards declining by the second.

Vilanti shrugs and plays her cards, taking the game. “By the way he keeps talking about her, I’d say yes.”

“What’s her name,” Han asks, gathering all the cards into a pile.

“Athi. Athi Lavellan.”

“Another Lavellan huh?”

“Guess so. Maybe she’s related to you two,” Vilanti says.

“Doubt it. Or if she is, it’s very distant,” Han says.

In the distance they hear yelling and smashing bottles. They all exchange looks.

“Wonder who the hell set Deshanna off—“

“Let’s go see if we can smooth things over,” Han says with a sigh.

“You two can go. I’ll probably make things worse. I don’t think he likes me much.”

“That’s because you push his buttons. Definitely better for you to stay here,” Han tells her.

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Then she waves at them as they slip out the door and finishes off her cigarillo.

—

It’s dark and quiet and Sarya gazes longingly out the window at a small patch of stars. The only patch not hidden by the clouds. She sighs and startles at the sound of knocking. Straightening herself out, she rubs the redness from her elbows and opens the door.

“Solas,” she says it like she’s expecting him but she’s truly surprised. She steps out with him, shutting the door behind her.

“You forgot your camera,” he tells her, holding it out in his hands.

She takes it from him, hanging it around her neck. “Thank you. I should really start keeping better track of my things or you’re going to start thinking I’m trying to bait you or something.”

“I would bite every time,” he says, his hands clasped behind his back. There’s a certain sparkle in his eye and she can’t read him. But she knows she wants to kiss him. So without another thought, she stretches up on her toes and takes him by surprise. He is frigid and she panics, certain she has misstepped. After all, friends don’t kiss like that.

“I’m sorry,” she says, a little out of breath. “I don’t know what…”

Her words are caught on the edge of his lips as he captures her mouth again. His kiss is unreserved but not what she’d call passionate. Like the kiss of a long time lover. A kiss of promise. Of commitment. Her mind screams at her to let go while simultaneously wishing and longing for more. His leg is pressed into her inner thigh and despite the chill of the air, she’s certain she is on fire. Her nails are in his shoulder, the camera even hurts just a little as it presses into her chest, and she doesn’t mean to let out a moan but it’s too late for regrets as he pushes her against the side of her trailer. One hand above her and the other in her hair. With each breath she steals between kisses, she studies his face. Memorizes it and stores it for always. Freckles for days and the tiniest scar above his brow. The only sign of his age lies in the lines of crows feet near the edges of his eyes and she tells herself to ask if he has a skincare routine. He certainly seems the type.

She studies his closed eyelids, there’s two freckles on the right and a singular small one on the left and she notices that there’s even some red in his brows and wonders if they’d have red headed babies.

She gasps then. Pulls away. Why in the hell is she thinking of babies?

“Perhaps I should…”

“Kiss me again,” she says to him. She won’t let one ridiculous thought ruin the moment. She knows that she’s falling for him. Too fast, too soon but she’s holding on for another day.

When they break apart she doesn’t want him to go. But it’s too much to ask him to stay. So she waves goodbye then clicks her camera, saving the image of him walking away.

#dragon age #solavellan #modern au #solas x Sarya Lavellan #circus au #free falling #bear writes

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jae-daddy · 3 years

Text

Blind

jaebum!dickhead

masterlist

pairing: jaebum x reader genre: angst plot: you overhear your boyfriend Jaebum and his friends talking rudely about you. a/n: this was written a long time ago lol. I thought I’d post it instead of deleting it. not edited. hope y’all like it

“Dude, I can’t believe she followed you here,” you heard Yugyeom, as you neared the pool table the boys were surrounding.

Your eyes easily found Jaebum, as he leaned forward to take a shot. His black leather jacket stretching over his broad shoulders, his hair styled in a perfectly messy way. Even with his back towards you, you still felt butterflies flutter in your tummy as you thought of the way he looked tonight.

You thought back to the car ride. His hand on your thigh, inching higher until it slipped under your short skirt. He loved it when you wore short skirts and tight tops. It drove him crazy, he could never keep his hands off you.

Just as he had struggled to keep himself from parking his car at some random place and fuck you before you reached the party. You remember his throaty growl as he ripped his hand away from tracing your panty and to the steering wheel.

His jaw tight as his clenched the wheel, his knuckles turning white.

“I won’t be able to stop if I start baby,” he looked over at you, his eyes dark and filled with promise. You wanted him to do it, you didn’t care about this party.

But Jaebum did.

It was his friend’s party, and as a part of the popular kids troupe, he needed to show up.

“She didn’t follow him, she just misunderstood,” Youngjae clarified, his voice teasing. “Right, Jaebum?”

You stopped in your tracks, feeling your stomach drop.

“You really need to learn to draw boundaries with her bro,” Jackson told Jaebum as he missed a shot. You saw Jaebum grimace at the missed shot, before looking up to meet Jackson’s eyes. When he didn’t say anything, Jackson sighed, “She can’t keep following you-”

“Y/n is not following me,” Jaebum cut him off. You let go of the breath you were holding in, the tight line your lips were drawn into relaxed slightly.

“Was she invited?” Nate asked, shooting Jaebum a knowing smirk.

“No,” Jaebum sighed.

“Did you invite her?”

“Well, no.”

You felt like you were about to vomit.

“Y/n is always clinging to your side,” Nick told him, before taking a sip of his beer. “You are never free to do anything. You are always with her, it’s like y’all are in a relationship.

“If you were hitting that, then I’d support you, bro,” Yugyeom mumbled, shrugging.

“Yeah right,” Nate snorted. “like anyone would hit that.”

You watched Jaebum, waiting for him to say something, but he didn’t. He just stared at Nate, with a grimace barely noticable.

“Dude, be honest,” Nate smiled at Jaebum, “would you hit that?”

When Jaebum didn’t reply, Nate’s smile grew bigger, “Has she tried hooking up with you?”

You felt sick.

Your mind instantly went to that night when you had kissed Jaebum. The night that had started it all. You were at a party just like this, and somehow you both ended up in the same bedroom hiding away.

You were waiting for your friend to finish hooking up and were tired to creeps so you hid the room. Jaebum stumbled in a few minutes later.

You were scared at first, thinking it was a drunk boy. You were terrified because the music was so loud you weren’t sure if anyone would be able to hear you if you had screamed for help.

But your panic turned into interest as you saw the staggering figure straighten as they closed the door. You watched Jaebum fall onto the bed and let out an exhausted sigh. You saw him pull out his phone, dialling someone as he pinched his nose, “Hello, 911?”

Jaebum wouldn’t let you out of his sight after he spotted you. You knew too much. You had the power to ruin his popularity. So you ended up spending the whole night with Jaebum, talking about random things.

By the end of the night, you realised there was more to him then the superficial bad boy act he puts up. You couldn’t help yourself but kiss him before you had to leave.

it felt like a final goodbye. You knew that after that night ended, you would never get the chance again. So you took the chance, you kissed him.

And, he kissed you back.

He had pulled you in, bringing you to his lap. He had stopped you two before things got too heated. And then, he snuck into your bedroom for more late night conversations.

Jaebum had asked you to be his girlfriend a month ago. A month had passed and no one knew that you and Jaebum were together. People thought it was a unlikely pair, but it was friendship at most.

“No way!” Yugyeom gasped, “For real? What happened?”

Jaebum just shook his head. You could see the smug smile on his face, and it hurt your heart.

Just an hour ago, he was holding back from railing you in the backseat of his car.

You snapped out of your thoughts as you watched Jaebum move around the table. You watched his face as he spoke.

“I told her I was coming here tonight, and she kind of just tagged along,” Jaebum sighed, ignoring the comments. He scratched the back of his head nervously, as he studied the guys staring at him. The other boys looked at him with knowing looks as they shook their heads. “I know I should’ve clarified, but I feel bad for her.”

You were actually going to be sick. You dug your nails into your palms, biting your lip tightly to stop yourself from crying in the middle of the party. You knew you should walk away, but you wanted to hear it. Even as it hurt your heart.

Even if it felt like Jaebum sunk his claws into your chest and wrenched your heart out. You wanted to hear what your boyfriend had to say about you.

There was Im Jaebum, your boy friend, standing in a group with his friends, talking about how he felt bad for you.

You felt your heart sink, and your stomach churn, as you heard him continue.

“She's been through a lot. None of her friends talk to her anymore, I can’t just tell her to buzz off,” Jaebum explained, his voice coated with desperation wanting his friends to understand, to agree with his justification. “And it’s not too bad. She’s here doing her thing, and I’m doing mine.”

“Bro,” Yugyeom gave him a dry look, snorting at Jaebum, “how can you be doing your thing when you can’t even hook up with other girls because you have to take her home?”

“I don’t need to-”

“Sara is here,” Youngjae smirked at Jaebum. You saw Jaebum freeze at her name. He had said her name a few times to you before, “She asked about you.”

“Bro!” Yugyeom gaped at Jaebum who still hadn’t found it in himself to start moving again. “Sara!”

Finally, Jaebum leaned against the table. His hands grabbing the edge, as his shoulders fell with his head as he sighed, “Fuck.”

“You could be hooking up with Sara but you’re stuck babysitting,” Youngjae laughed.

“Hey, but she looked kind of all right tonight,” Nate shrugged. “That little crop top of hers really shows those,” he held up his hands in front of him gesturing to your boobs. “I mean, I would pity fuck that. Give her the gift of knowing a good time.”

Your feet began moving backwards as you started moving away from the group. You couldn’t hear anymore. You can’t stand there and watch as your boyfriend acted like you didn’t matter to him. You can’t stand there, listen and pretend that what they said didn’t hurt you, that it didn’t hurt you that Im Jaebum might have never loved you at all.

You bumped into someone, and you turned around apologising.

You didn’t want to hear what else they had to say. You didn’t want to see how else Jaebum would let them talk about you. You didn’t want to find out how Jaebum thought of you.

“Shit, sorry,” you whispered, your voice shaking. You lifted your gaze to find soft brown ones looking at you with sympathy. His hands gently rested on your shoulders as he steadied your stumbling feet.

“It’s okay,” Mark said, softly. He was part of their group. If he wasn’t behind you, he would probably be standing next to Jackson, laughing along with them. You didn’t want his sympathy.

You didn’t want anything from him.

Your eyes began burning as his eyes drifted behind to the group of boys laughing, before settling back on you.

“Are you okay?” Mark asked. You brushed his hands off your shoulders and took a step back.

You didn’t meet his eyes as you nodded, unable to speak.

You walked around him, and headed straight for the door. You didn't look back at Jaebum or stop until you were outside the house.

Even then, you kept walking down the street, your feet picking up speed as you tried running away from the loud noises in your head.

You felt sick, you felt tired.

Your heart broke into a tiny million pieces as their words kept replying in your mind. But that’s not what broke you.

The thing that hurt you the most was Jaebum. He didn’t do anything, he didn’t say anything. He just let them, he laughed with them, he agreed with them.

You stopped when your lungs started to burn, and you couldn't go any further.

You called for an Uber and waited on the side of the road. You stared at your phone, waiting for Jaebum to notice you were missing.

You wanted him to text you, to call you. You wanted him worry about you, to show any proof that he did like you back. Even a silver of how much you loved him, you wanted even the slightest of his love back.

It was all you needed to help you stay together and not fall apart.

You stared at the screen as the Uber pulled up. You stared at it all through the ride. You didn’t look up as you thanked the driver.

You locked the door as you entered your house. You stared at the phone, biting your lips.

You shouldn’t send him anything. He hadn’t even noticed.

But then, against your better judgement, you decided to send it, ‘I’m home.’

You changed and got into your bed, covering yourself with your blankets.

You didn’t shower. You were too tired to shower. You were too tired to do anything. You were too tired to even close your eyes and pretend to go to sleep.

You knew sleep wasn’t going to come easily tonight. Not when you kept on thinking about the smile on Jaebum’s face as he listened to his friends talk about you. Not when you remembered the way his shoulders and head slummed with defeat when he found out Sara had asked about him.

There was no way sleep was coming easy to you when all you wanted to do was cry.

You didn’t cry though.

You tried not to cry, you tried to hold back the tears, at first. But then, you couldn’t stop them. The tears silently rolled down your face, as you lay on your side.

You felt the pillow get wet, but you ignored it as you blankly stared at the wall instead. Your hands desperately clenched the blanket, as you tried to calm yourself down, before you began uncontrollably sobbing.

Jaebum’s reply came a few minutes later. ‘What?’

‘Are you alright?’

‘Are you sleeping?’

‘Should I come over?’

After five minutes, your phone rang.

You saw Jaebum’s name on the phone.

Your chest ached seeing his name on the phone. You wanted to pick it up.

But, you ignored it and turned the phone over as you slipped it under your pillow.

It rang again, and again. Three more times, before you picked it up.

“What the fuck?!” He gnarled into the phone, you could hear the wind rushing past him. It sounded like he was speeding somewhere.

You didn’t say anything, just waited for him to continue.

“Are you okay? Why did you leave early?”

“I’m okay,” you rasped, your voice hurting your throat. “I don’t feel well. I’m going to sleep.”

“You sound horrible,” Jaebum replied softly, the panic in his voice subsiding. The softness in his voice made new tears escape down your face. You moved away from the phone and wiped your tears.“Do you want me to come over, babe?”

You hated it.

You hated how your heart trembled when he called your baby.

“No,” you rasped, your lower lip trembling as you held back a sob, “I just need to be alone.”

You sniffled your nose as you swallowed, your vision blurring.

Jaebum remained quiet for a moment, the wind rushing past slowing down now, “Okay, take care. Call me tomorrow, okay, babe?”

“Goodbye, Jaebum,” was all you said before ending the call.

You didn't hold it back anymore.

Your body curled into a ball, as it began shaking furiously as sobs raked through you.

Your hand clasped over your mouth as you sobbed into the dark night.

Your heart, broken and bleeding by the one boy you had trusted.

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dizzydancingdreamer · 3 years

Text

A Very Merry Mikaelson Christmas | Elijah #4 & #10

Request: @iirocioii “Hii!! If you are still taking Christmas requests could you do number 4 and number 10 with Elijah please :)) btw I love your blog!” THANK YOU SO MUCH 💕💕 Please do enjoy :)

Prompt(s): “Where’s that holiday cheer, hmm?” & “Do you think this is enough?” “You bought everything in the store! Twice!”

Word Count: 1.2k

P.s. I edited this in the car if there are mistakes I am sorry

Christmas Master List

“‘Lijah, how many people are coming for Christmas again?” you murmur, standing dangerously close to the edge of the sidewalk as you shuffle through the contents of your bag, “do you think this is enough? I don’t want to run out of cookies tomorrow.”

He huffs, grabbing your jacket and tugging you, a little harshly, back from the cars whizzing past you. In his defence, you are pretty much in the middle of New Orleans traffic. He would prefer not to lose you to the wills of Bourbon Street the day before Christmas. Regardless, though, you still don’t look at him. Do you have enough sprinkles? Maybe you should go back. You’re so distracted you don’t see the people rushing by, almost getting yourself trampled numerous times. How many sugar cookies are you baking again?

“Baby,” he pulls you through the Christmas Eve crowd and into a nook beside the baking shop, his voice a little more high pitched than usual, “you bought everything in the store!” He rests his hands on your shoulders, bending slightly to catch your eyes, “Twice! Unless you’re baking for all of New Orleans I think we’ll be okay.”

He sounds off and your chest stings a little bit. He’s not usually so rough with you. You stare out at the bustle on the street, your palms aching a touch. You set your bags on the ground, wringing your hands together once they’re free. You know it’s not inherently directed at you but his tone is still a tad upsetting. You don’t want him to be mad at you, especially when you’re just trying to do your best to impress his friends and family.

You glance up at him, pouting slightly, “Eli, I’m sorry, I’m just trying to make sure it’s perfect. It’s our first Christmas together.”

Elijah sighs, running a hand through his hair. When he moves it back to your shoulder his hair is a mess, sticking up at weird angles. That won’t do, you muse to yourself, reaching up to smooth it back into place. That’s better. You slide your hands down his chest, grabbing the lapels of his coat. Even when he’s frustrated at you, you can’t help but want to make sure he’s okay. He’s your Elijah, after all, and that doesn’t change when he’s grumpy. He smiles at you, some of the tension leaving his face.

“No, I’m sorry. I know you do, baby,” he leans down further, pressing his lips against yours quickly, “but let's not get hit by cars on Christmas Eve while we do it, okay?”

You giggle, the knot that you didn’t know was building in your stomach unravelling instantly, “you’re no fun. Where’s that holiday cheer, hmm?”

Elijah rolls his eyes, kissing you once more before straightening and grabbing the bags you had set down. You smile gratefully at him- who knew sprinkles could be so heavy- before grabbing onto his arm. The two of you continue down the street, winding through downtown New Orleans and enjoying the winter day. Snow begins falling as your mind wanders once more to the cookies you have to begin baking soon. Is there going to be enough icing for the snowflakes?

“‘Lijah,” he glances down at you, his brows raised, “I really think we ought to go back and get more stuff.”

He laughs, grabbing your hand so he doesn’t lose you as the two of you enter the crowded Witches Christmas Market. It’s an annual event; all the New Orleans covens come together to fundraise money and sell goods. The market draws people from all over, each desperate for a taste of Bourbon Street magic. You don’t blame them, it’s quite the sight. You, however, are here for only one thing and you have just spotted him. Vincent Griffith.

“Why don’t you ask Vincent, love,” Elijah says loud enough to gather the witch’s attention, “I’m sure if anyone will be able to reassure you that you don’t need to bake for the whole of the continental United States, it will be him.”

You swat the man gently, scrunching your nose at him before running to Vincent and throwing yourself against him. He happily wraps you up in his arms, spinning you around and almost bumping into a few people trying to browse the booths around the two of you. They scowl at him but he just rolls his eyes, clearly not at all conscious of the space you’re taking up. You giggle freely, reveling in the chocolate and peppermint scent rolling off of your best friend. This year, as newly appointed regent, it’s officially Vincent’s job to make the hot chocolate for the market. It’s a tradition and each year the recipe is better than the last.

“Darlin’, where have you been?” Vincent sets you on your feet and you sway for a moment, dizzy from his antics, “you’re a ghost these days, I swear.”

A few more giggles slip out as he leads you towards his stand, “haven’t you heard? We’re hosting Christmas tomorrow. Apparently it’s a whole month’s affair.” You slip your arm through his, swinging your limbs back and forth as you walk, “don’t you worry though, Griffith, I would never forget about you.”

Vincent shakes his head, his own laughs swirling through the air, mixing with yours, “I know you, doll. You’re just saying that because you want free hot chocolate.”

“No!” You bump your hip against his, a sheepish smile on your lips, “okay, maybe a little. I do love you though, you know that.”

He passes you a smile, ushering you ahead of him inside the warm booth. He turns to one of many crockpots, lifting the lid and revealing the heady scent of freshly melted chocolate to the tent. You close your eyes, breathing in as much of it as you can. You already know this year’s hot chocolate will be the best yet. You open your eyes to Vincent pouring the heavenly liquid into a canister.

He sets it down before turning to you, holding up a clear bottle of something that smells suspiciously like peppermint liquor, “alright, darlin’, this here is my secret ingredient so you can’t go sharing this with the out-of-towners you hear me?” He shakes the bottle, his eyes shining, “now then, one or two?”

You’re about to be responsible and answer ‘one’ but then you think back to the bags you left in Elijah’s arms and the long hours that you’ll spend baking when you get back to the compound.

Speak of the devil. As if he can hear your thoughts, Elijah steps into the tent, nodding at Vincent and wrapping an arm around you. He doesn’t have the bags anymore, no doubt having already dropped them off while you were distracted. He kisses the top of your head and pulls you against his chest, whispering a quiet I missed you against your hair. You shake your head but snuggle back, catching your best friend’s eye once more.

“Better make it two, Vincent,” you resign, tossing him a grin, “I’ll be up late tonight.”

“That’s my girl!”

#the originals #the vampire diaries #tvd #to #elijah mikaelson #the originals imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #tvd imagine #to imagine #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson imagine #vincent griffith #a very merry mikaelson Christmas #a very merry mikaelson christmas 2020 #dizzy's christmas drabbles #christmas drabble

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andinewton · 4 years

Text

Based on this post by @acrispyapple, just a little something I threw together! Thanks for the idea! I hope you like it! (as always, I’m too lazy to edit it right now, so I hope it all makes sense!)

Give me a Break! - A Victor oneshot

Victor continued with his work, his phone face down on the desk, awaiting the vibration to signal your next reply. It never took you long to come around to his way of thinking, even though you seemed to be really riled at his reply this time. He could picture you now, brow furrowed delicately with a cute little pout on your lips. His face curved into a smirk before he put his fountain pen back to paper and carried on working.

***

You glared at your phone. You had taken five minutes out of today’s incredibly busy schedule to try and invite Victor on a trip. Sending him a message, fishing for whether he might be interested or not, only to have him shoot you down in flames by questioning your work ethic! Okay, well, fine. If he wanted to be your boss and nothing else, then that was what he would get.

***

Later that evening, as you tucked into a very basic but still tasty microwave dinner at your tiny kitchen table, your phone beeped a new message. Glancing at the display you could see a notification from Victor, asking where you were. On the other side of you was a copy of your latest proposal which you were skimming over to double check it made sense. Time to launch operation business only.

Taking a picture of the file you attached a short message, simply stating; very busy, boss. Before putting the phone back down and continuing to eat, your desire to work suddenly fired up by his query.

Another beep. You were meant to be at Souvenir.

Actually, sir, you said you would take me to Souvenir later. As no time nor date for said meeting was confirmed with myself or my office, I assumed it was tentative. Apologies if I misunderstood.

Wow, that felt soooooo good! It was professional, made your point, even to the degree of apologising to draw attention to the fact it was his fault. Now for stage two of your plan.

You opened a new text message and sent a brief note to Kiro. Weirdly, he was the one who supported your not-quite-a-relationship with Victor, and was more than happy to be your venting buddy as well as constant co-conspirator. You knew Kiro “shipped” the two of you, as he assured you the internet said these days, and he wanted to make it his mission to bring you together. You admitted you weren’t exactly averse to the idea, and making Victor jealous just might help. Just minutes later you got a stream of excited emojis from Kiro, followed by the simple phrase; I know just what to do, so go with it!

You were sure whatever it was would get Victor’s attention in no time, the real test would be how he reacted.

***

Victor threw his phone down on the countertop, the metal surface reverberating with the clash. You were taking it this far, seriously? Making out your relationship was nothing more than professional? He would make you pay for that in some not so subtle way. He started to pack away the ingredients he had bought to make you a special meal, knowing you weren’t coming. It was a shame to let it go to waste and while he wanted to share this recipe with you he could be just as petty as you were. Probably even more so.

His phone vibrated the counter as he came back from the refrigerator, glancing at the screen to see it was from Goldman, and a screenshot no less. Opening it he stared for a good ten seconds before his anger rose to a near impossible level.

Kiro had apparently made a post that Goldman thought should be brought to Victor’s attention immediately. And he could see why.

Kiro: Looking forward to a weekend away with my bestie! Just the two of us, sun, sea, swimsuits, sand, sweet treats, and sangria!

And you were tagged in it.

It was no secret that the two of you were friends, completely platonic yet irritatingly friends who had the press eating out of your hands at the far too many not-dates you went on. Was this what he had blown off by reminding you that work was important? A chance to enjoy a tropical vacation with you wearing very little clothing and…he cleared his throat and shook his head, trying to dislodge the image. Two could play this game. If she was trying to make him jealous she was not going to succeed. No. He would take the high ground and let her go waste her time with the blond pretty boy.

At least that was what he thought. Until Goldman’s second image came through. That of your reply.

MC: Can you believe we get the entire island to ourselves? Thanks #romanticgetaways for the amazing prize!

She won a private island getaway and she was going with…with…with him?! Oh, he didn’t think so! Victor slapped off the lights and headed for the door, grabbing his jacket as he passed.

***

‘Do you think this will work?’ You asked Kiro when he video called you after he posted. He had talked you through your reply and it made sense. He knew about the prize you had won, how excited you had been at the prospect of inviting Victor on what you hope might be a romantic little getaway, and he knew the CEO wasn’t keen on your friendship with the star.

‘With that reply it’s guaranteed!’ You could almost feel Kiro’s excitement through the screen. ‘You are totally going to get him demanding you go with him instead of me!’

‘I mean demanding does sound like him.’ You agreed. ‘But I can’t see it. He was obviously put out that I switched to all business and we both know how stubborn he is.’

‘Psshh.’ Kiro made a dismissive noise. ‘You’ll have him eating out of the palm of your hand.’

‘He’ll probably say that’s unsanitary.’

Kiro’s bubbly laugh echoed through the tiny speaker. ‘I bet he’s actually okay with the idea of a little food play.’ The wink he gave you was enough to bring a blush to your cheeks.

‘You’re worse than me, I swear.’ You shook your head. ‘I don’t imagine I’ll hear from him, but if I do I’ll let you…’

You were interrupted by a knock on your door, your head jerking around to look at it.

‘It’s him! Oh my God, just leave me here on the table so I can listen in!’

‘Nope.’ You waved and cut the call, placing the phone face down on the table before heading over and going up on tiptoes to look through the peephole. Holy crap, it was actually him!

You glanced down at yourself, still wearing your skirt and blouse from work but barefoot and hair down. You’d have to do. Opening the door you looked at Victor, leaning against the wall beside the door with his forearm, glaring at you the moment his eyes found you.

‘Good evening, Mr Li. To what do I owe this unexpected visit?’ Your tone was clipped and professional but his stern expression didn’t slip.

‘Do you always open your door at this time of night to strangers?’

‘I wouldn’t call us strangers, Mr Li. And I checked through the peephole first.’ You waved a hand towards it in demonstration.

He straightened from his leaning pose and tugged his jacket so it sat right. ‘Quit calling me that.’

‘Mr Li?’ You asked, and he gave a brisk nod. ‘But that’s your name.’

‘We have been on a first name basis for as long as we have been in business.’

‘And I apologise for my lack of professionalism in that regard.’ You bowed your head briefly. ‘Now, what can I do for you? It must be important for you to have come all this way at this hour.’

‘I want to know what this is about.’ He thrust his phone in your face just as your neighbour’s door opened, Lucien poking his head around the frame.

‘Is everything alright, MC? I heard raised voices.’

You smiled pleasantly before emphasising his name. ‘Everything is fine, Lucien. Some last minute business that couldn’t wait until morning, that’s all.’

He gave Victor a none too friendly glance. ‘Shout if you need anything.’

‘I will. Thank you, Lucien.’

After a final look Victor’s way he closed the door again and you turned your attention back to the man in front of you, who seemed even angrier now than he had a moment before.

‘What can I do for you, Mr Li? It is, after all, very late. Is there some sort of emergency?’

‘No, there’s no emergency!’ His tone became exasperated. ‘I want to know…’

‘This is well out of business hours so I assumed it was urgent.’

‘Are you just going to leave me on the doorstep all night?’ He finally snapped.

‘With that attitude I think I might.’ You begun to close the door but he put his hand against it and held it there, not that you put up much of a fight. ‘Mr Li, this is very unprofessional.’

‘Enough with the Mr Li, and enough with the professionalism!’ His nostrils flared, you thought in an attempt to stop himself from really yelling, but you just continued to looked at him with a confused expression on your face. ‘I want you to tell me what this means?’

Again he held out the phone and you leant forward slightly, examining it carefully. ‘I believe that is a post from the idol Kiro regarding to his plans for this weekend.’

‘His plans this weekend with you.’ He specified.

‘That’s right.’

‘Quit playing dumb, MC.’

‘I don’t know what you’re alluding to, Mr Li, but dumb is the last thing I am playing.’

The sigh he let out was more of a huff. ‘Are you really going to spend the weekend on a private island with him?’

You shrugged. ‘I had no one else to ask. My first choice was unavailable therefore I went with my backup. If that’s all, sir, I was in the middle of eating.’

‘You said you were working.’

‘I’m multitasking.’ For the first time your irritation slipped through into your voice and you had to take a calming breath before continuing.

He glared at you but you glared right back. He was in the wrong here and if he were really jealous, as Kiro suspected, he had to do something about it, not you. You were not caving.

‘This trip? It was what you wanted to ask me on?’

‘I thought to. Until you stated you couldn’t possibly find the time and that my workload shouldn’t afford me the time either. However, I happen to believe in a healthy work/life balance and this short break will be most welcome.’

‘I would have gone with you.’

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that?’ You leaned forward with your ear turned slightly towards him.

‘I said if you had come out and asked me in the first place I would have gone with you!’

‘Asking if you would like a spur of the moment trip wasn’t to the point enough for you?’ You finally snapped back at him. ‘Your cue then would have been to ask me where to, not to have dismissed me like you have so many other times! I am tired of trying to be perfect for you, Victor, I mean Mr Li! I know in future not to bother asking you to anything you would obviously feel is a complete waste of your valuable time. I’m sorry I bothered you with it in the first place and you will be pleased to hear that from this point on our relationship will be nothing but professional!’

‘You can’t just…’

‘I can’t just what? Tell you a few home truths?’

‘No!’

‘Decide not to allow you to antagonise me any more?’

‘No!’

‘Go on vacation with Kiro?’

That was evidently the last straw for Victor as he shoved his phone in his pocket, stepped forward, and pulled you to him for a bruising kiss.

You couldn’t lie, it was everything you could ever have dreamed of and more. You swore you saw fireworks behind your eyelids, your nerve endings tingling throughout your entire body as his lips forcefully took yours, his hands cupping your face as though afraid you might move. Moving was the last thing on your mind, though, and you made a small satisfied murmur as he drew back from you just enough to allow you to focus on him.

‘Try asking me again.’ He all but growled, the noise making you shiver in such close confines.

‘Would…’ you swallowed, ‘would you like a spur of the moment trip?’

A smile curved the edge of his lips. ‘With you? Any time.’

#mlqc victor #mr love victor #oneshot #mlqc oneshot #kinda fluffy #jealous victor #kiro guest stars

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coldwind-shiningstars · 3 years

Note

ok ok prompts!!! so, I would be Delighted by some more qinxiyao family fic (deleted scenes or things you might have wanted to include in the big bang fic but didn't get to?), or, alternately, anything in the modern tcgf au? anything at all; they're all so excellent <3

both of these are such excellent prompts I started working on both of them, but the modern au got finished first! I’ll probably both a) do a lot of edits on this and b) do the qinxiyao family fic in a week or so, but here this is for now. Also, for those not in James and my brains, this is a very small part of a very large AU! Small note, all characters appearing in this fic are trans; however, He Xuan is still very much an egg and so they are referred to throughout the fic as “he/him,” although SQX at least is aware of this and wondering when to bring it up with her. She is, however, unaware that “Ming Yi” is a stolen identity and He Xuan is actually the eco-terrorist who’s been blowing up her brother’s fish hatcheries. It’s a long story.

If Xie Lian was being honest, he didn't much like the internet. It was so bright and everything moved too fast. People used a bewildering array of slang and images. It was surprisingly difficult to avoid spending hours reading upsetting news stories. People spent days arguing about pornography.

Also, his phone didn't really connect to WiFi very well. Even by the loosest definitions of the word, he hardly counted as a netizen.

People were usually shocked when he told them this, though, because Xie Lian's best friend was one of China's most popular beauty influencers.

Xie Lian's face appeared on her Weibo with some regularity. She talked about him often. He'd gone viral three separate times on Douyin, entirely accidentally.

What Shi Qingxuan was most famous for, however, was makeup tutorials. He had never actually appeared in one of these, but, since there were very few people in the world capable of saying no to a very determined Shi Qingxuan, this was about to change. He was used to being in her charmingly decorated little apartment but not quite used to becoming a decorated thing himself. He'd even put on one of the outfits Hua Cheng had designed and sewn for him, based on some of his old dance costumes and a few frantic weeks of historical research, and kept swishing the skirts around his legs.

Shi Qingxuan started setting up, chattering away to Xie Lian as she did. "You need anything before we start? Bathroom, water, a snack? I edit my videos pretty heavily, so we can always take a break, but it’s good to be comfy."

"No, I'm fine," Xie Lian said, and then had to close his eyes when she clicked on the ring light.

He fiddled with the makeup compacts laid out on the table.

Shi Qingxuan adjusted her light, scootched Xie Lian’s chair a little to the left and a little back, and then fiddled with the camera. It was quite the involved operation, Xie Lian thought; he knew a lot went into making videos, but he hadn’t realized it took this much effort before the camera was even on. Shi Qingxuan had done his makeup before, of course, but mostly just for fun, or something she could take a picture of and post on Weibo. It had been so long since he'd been filmed.

He watched Shi Qingxuan press record on her camera and then sit back and flash it a smile, putting on her Influencer Face. She squeezed his hand under the table.

“Hi everyone, welcome to Feng Shi!” she said, chirpy. “I’m Shi Qingxuan, and today we’re doing xianxia makeup with my good friend, Xie Lian. Now, for this look, we’re going to need…”

When Xie Lian was little, the makeup artists for his dance troupe had known he took about twice as long as anyone else did to get his makeup done. He was the darling of the company, though, so this was tolerated with fondness.

He didn't like the way the foundation felt on his face when it dried. His eyes watered when they put on eyeliner. He liked to spin his chair from side to side.

He'd had much worse things on his face than paint since then, and had learned how to be still.

Shi Qingxuan patted his hand cheerfully as she pulled out the setting powder.

"You're always one of my favorite models," she said. "You're so photogenic and so patient!"

"Thank you," Xie Lian said, and held still while she brushed it in his face.

Ruoye, probably noticing the warmth, slithered out of Xie Lian's robes and curled up on top of his head so she could get the full blast of heat from the ring light. She flickered out her tongue to scent Shi Qingxuan when she leaned in with a liquid eyeliner pen.

Shi Qingxuan made little kissy sounds at her, which only confirmed Xie Lian's certainty that he had good taste in friends. Most people were startled by Ruoye originally, but how they responded to her after Xie Lian introduced them was a good litmus test.

Ruoye settled in, and Xie Lian reached up a finger to stroke her scales.

He was feeling good, content and warm, happy to sit still. Then the apartment door clicked open, and Xie Lian stiffened.

"Ming-xiong? Is that you?" Shi Qingxuan called.

Ming Yi mumbled something back and shuffled into the room, buried deep in his black hoodie. As always, Xie Lian's first thought upon seeing him was wondering how he could see through all that hair.

The hoodie had a fish skeleton painted on it that he recognized instantly as one of Hua Cheng's drawings; it made Xie Lian smile, thinking of how insistent San Lang was that they absolutely weren't friends, no way, there was no particular reason he would make custom hoodies for Ming Yi. The fish were a coincidence. He’d even made Ming Yi custom salmon breakup boots while proclaiming it meant nothing.

Xie Lian, wearing an elaborate hanfu Hua Cheng had designed, sewn, and embroidered himself, even making him a period-appropriate duduo to flatten his chest, absolutely did not buy any of these excuses. Hua Cheng covered people he cared about with his art.

Ming Yi grunted a greeting and wandered off, probably to raid the fridge. Shi Qingxuan winked at Xie Lian.

“I’ll edit most of this out,” she said, conspiratorial, “But my viewers love Ming-xiong. Especially when he’s out of focus in the background. They’ve made memes. I haven’t told them anything about him. It’s good to keep a little mystery! It keeps people watching.”

Xie Lian, having no real idea what she was talking about, smiled and suppressed his instinct to nod. Shi Qingxuan began painting a flower on his forehead with red pigment.

Finally, Shi Qingxuan gently removed Ruoye from Xie Lian’s head and shoulders and settled a wig cap over his hair, then the wig she’d pre-prepared. A few bobby pins, a few tucks, and then she stepped back, grinning.

“Ta-dah! How do you like it, taizi dianxia?”

“It’s beautiful,” Xie Lian said, honestly.

“We’ll end the video here, I think,” she said, “But I’ll get some posed photos of you to edit in here if that’s alright. Oh, tilt your head back and forth a little? Good. Smile at the camera!”

Shi Qingxuan fluttered her fingers at the camera in a wave; Xie Lian waved too, a few seconds later. As she leaned forward to click off the camera he straightened his legs out to try and loosen them up. His knees made terrible crunching sounds as they stretched.

“You can take a little break if you want,” Shi Qingxuan said. “I’ll set up the area where we’ll take photos, but I’ll try to make it quick. You’re a darling for sitting through all this, you know?"

She was already bustling around again. She seemed to have an endless fountain of energy; Xie Lian found it admirable. He laid flat on his back on her bed, careful to not get makeup on her sheets or wrinkle his clothes. Ming Yi sat next to him, eating shrimp chips. He put a few directly into Xie Lian's mouth, feeding him like a little bird, and Xie Lian felt warm. Like Hua Cheng, it could be hard to know when Ming Yi liked you, but there were ways to tell.

He let Shi Qingxuan pose him until she was satisfied with the numbers of pictures she’d taken, trying very hard not to feel like the chuunibyou teenager he’d once been. He felt himself mostly immune to embarrassment at this point, but he supposed there were always exceptions.

Eventually, they cleaned up, although Xie Lian had promised Hua Cheng to show off the full look, so he didn’t get changed or clean his face.

“I’ll buy dinner,” Shi Qingxuan said. “We deserve it. You too, Ming-xiong!”

She herded them both out of the apartment and down the street to a small noodles stall. They all ordered (in He Xuan’s case, three bowls) and Xie Lian was fumbling for his phone when he heard Shi Qingxuan cheerfully tell the clerk to put it all on the same ticket. She tapped her phone to pay for it all before Xie Lian could protest.

A few people asked Xie Lian for pictures as they ate. He posed obligingly, hoping he hadn't spilled any sauce on his clothes while eating. When he was done, he packed up his leftovers, let Shi Qingxuan nag him into calling a Didi instead of trying to walk home, and bid both her and Ming Yi farewell. Ruoye, who had spent most of the time they were eating in Xie Lian's backpack, made a brief appearance too like she wanted to say goodbye as well.

Xie Lian clicked his own apartment door closed quietly and tiptoed over to slide his leftovers into the refrigerator. Down the hall, a light shone out from underneath Hua Cheng's studio door.

There was an old picture of the two of them on the fridge; it was them in a hospital pediatric ward group room. Xie Lian, age fifteen, was beaming at the camera, his "FIGHT! JUVENILE SLE" shirt a bright red and his pants an immaculate white. Next to him, Hua Cheng, his right eye patched with patterned tape, bald and tiny, stared up at him with devotion.

Ruoye bonked her head gently on the freezer door. Xie Lian pulled out one of her mice and slid her gently into her tank before giving her the treat; she was swallowing the mouse as he left the kitchen.

Hua Cheng turned to him as Xie Lian opened the door to his studio. His eye got wide, and his face looked like it did sometimes when he looked at Xie Lian, like he was seeing something holy. He slid his headphones off his ears.

Xie Lian did a little twirl for him, letting him see the way the fabric moved, and then tilted his face up for a kiss when Hua Cheng came over to him.

“Gege, you look beautiful,” he said.

“San Lang,” said Xie Lian. “It’s all you and Qingxuan. I’ll get her to send you the pictures later.”

Hua Cheng kissed the top of his head. He was dressed down, in a soft shirt and pants, not wearing his prosthetic eye. Xie Lian leaned his head into Hua Cheng’s chest.

“Gege seems tired,” Hua Cheng said. “Would you like to get ready for bed? Do you need dinner or your medicine? I can help you take all that off.”

“San Lang, you’re working,” Xie Lian said. “I already ate, so I think I’d like to sleep. But you don’t have to help.”

"Gege is more important than commissions," Hua Cheng said, and Xie Lian let him bundle him off to bed.

post about prompts!

#replies #my writing #body in abyss heart in paradise #paradife-loft

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mavzoon · 4 years

Note

OHHH I WAS LOOKING AT YOUR PROFILE AND YOU SAID YOU MIGHT EDIT THE ROHAN ONE BUT WITH A MALE READER. YES PLEASE FEED US OH MY GOD PLEASE🥺🥺

Rohan x male reader smutt

Oh boi I almost forgot I wanted to edit that one. Whelp, here we go. I also posted this on AO3.

TW: overstimulation, degradation, rough sex, Rohan being an absolute fucking tease

Word count: 3388

Cut for length

"Good luck!" Koichi said before hanging up.

You sighed, putting your phone in your pocket. Why do I have to be the one to drag this stubborn… handsome... man away from his manga? If Koichi can't persuade him to take a break, how can I? You stepped to Rohan's front porch and picked up the spare key from under the doormat. You opened the door without knocking or ringing the doorbell.

You threw your jacket down and went upstairs to his drawing-room. You knocked three times before stepping in.

"Koichi, for the last time… I'm going to take a break once I finish this page." He didn't even turn around.

You crossed your arms and leaned on the door frame. "Judging by the fact that Koichi had to ask me to come, you've made that promise already, multiple times."

Rohan spun around with his mouth agape. You tried not to giggle. He regained his composure and turned back to his work. "Well, now you've heard it as well, so get going. I have to finish this-"

"Rohannn, please! You have to eat at least something!" You whined and walked next to him.

Rohan scoffed and held up his finger. "I will… after I finish this page…"

You pouted and tugged at his sleeve. "And how many times did you tell that to Koichi? Now, please, let's just go to the kitchen, and I'll even make you something."

Rohan paused and stared at your hand, holding onto his sleeve. "Fine, but I'll stay here and draw in the meanwhile."

You tugged his sleeve again. "Rohan, Koichi told me you haven't moved from that spot for almost five hours!"

He glanced at the clock. "So?"

You grimaced. "So… It's not good for your posture," you mumbled.

"Is that it? I've already told you I'd come downstairs after you've made something."

You paused and looked away. "Is it now a crime for me to want to spend a little time with you?" What the madness was that gave you the courage to say that was, you didn't know.

Rohan pushed his chair back and studied you. He tapped his drawing pen on the desk and hummed, annoyed. "You want me to pay some attention to you, is that it?"

You blushed and nodded. Oh shit, where is he going with this?

Rohan clicked his tongue. "God, you're high maintenance. Fine, but on one condition. Take off your clothes."

"W-what?" You stammered and nearly choked. When Koichi called you, you hadn't planned for things to take this type of turn. You wanted to ask what had come over him but could only stammer.

"I, umm-"

Rohan snickered. "What, have you gone deaf?" He leaned closer to you and whispered. "Take those clothes off."

"What? Is this some kind of impromptu nude drawing session? Wha-"

Rohan sighed. "First you beg for attention, and when I give it to you, you start complaining... Will you please sort yourself out!"

You wanted to question things further, hell, you were still waiting for your brain to wrap around what was going on, but you decided to just roll with it. You pulled down your pants, your hands trembling all the way and kicked them off to the side. Then you pulled your shirt over your head. You bit your lip and glanced at Rohan. "Do I also take off-"

"Everything," he murmured, crossing his arms behind his head.

It took you some self-control not to scream from… embarrassment? No, that couldn't be right. You didn't even try to deny wanting him. You glanced up at him. Rohan's emerald green eyes were almost half-lidded and filled with a sort of dark desire. You bit your lip and slowly began pulling down your boxers. Rohan looked on intently. You kicked them off and started to straighten up but shied away from the intense look he was giving you. You couldn't help but shiver from the cool air hitting your exposed cock.

You shivered. Rohan interrupted you before you could cover yourself. "Stop. Stay just like that." He reached for his notepad and began sketching vigorously.

You blinked. "Are you-?"

"Obviously."

"B-but why? I mean-"

He set the notepad down and smirked. "Why? I think I've already told you that reality inspires me, so tell me," he beckoned you to come closer. You obeyed. "Why on earth would I pass up the opportunity to capture something truly beautiful on paper?"

You couldn't say for sure what the sound that left your mouth was. A squeal? A whimper? Perhaps a high pitched cough.

Rohan paused for a moment.

You bit your lip and crossed your arms. "Are... you okay?"

Rohan glanced at you, his face solemn. He shook his head and sighed. "I want to try something..."

He motioned something with his hand. You tilted your head in confusion.

He chuckled and raised his brows. "What are you waiting for? Come, have a seat."

"Wha- where?" you looked around, confused.

Rohan tapped his thigh a couple of times. You were relatively sure that your soul briefly left your body.

"T- you… I mean… You want me to-?" you stuttered.

Rohan huffed and nodded. "Exactly."

You stood in place, stunned.

Rohan shrugged. "Or you could always walk away."

You wasted no time stumbling in front of him despite feeling like you were going to faint at any second. You hesitated for a moment. Seeing this, Rohan reached out, placed both his hands on the back of your thighs and pulled you closer. You struggled a bit, finding a comfortable position on his lap. You tried to ignore the feeling of your cock brushing against him, but failed miserably.

You wrapped your hands around his neck and looked up at him.

He smiled, almost gentle. "See? I don't bite."

"Stop teasing me," you mumbled.

Rohan smirked and trailed his hands up your sides. "You wouldn't have shown me that pretty body of yours and sat on my lap if you didn't like it." You wanted to hit him back with a snide remark but instead opted to shut him up with a hurried kiss.

Seemingly not expecting it, he froze and tightened his hold on you. You began to pull back when you felt him place one hand on the back of your head and pull back in. He hummed softly against your lips. Seeking warmth, you ground your hips gently against him, your chest and cock rubbing against him.

Each time he pulled back, you expected him to move on, but he kept kissing you as. You whined.

He chuckled. "You wanted attention, and now I'm giving it to you, and here you are, being impatient. Tch, such a dirty boy!"

You whimpered. "I can't help it, you're just so…" You trailed off, flushing red.

He hummed. "Oh? I'm so what now? I didn't quite catch that."

You tried looking away, but he placed a hand on your cheek and made you look at him straight in the eye. "Go on, tell me what's going on in that pretty head of yours." He trailed one thumb over your lower lip.

"You're beautiful and… I really like you… So I just want to feel you against me," you held your breath, trembling from anticipation and fear.

Rohan sucked in a breath as his eyes widened. Before you had time to pull back and apologize, he had captured your lips in a feverous kiss.

"Oh, thank god," he wrapped his arms around you and muttered almost breathlessly.

Your eyes widened, and you pulled back. "Wait, does that mean you like me as well?"

Rohan chuckled and pulled you against his crotch. You whimpered as you felt the heavy weight of his hard cock rub against you, your own cock starting to harden from the feeling. "What does it look like, eh?" He whispered.

You grinned and ground against him.

"A-ah," he moaned, but it turned into a laugh instead. "And who's the tease now?" His eyes glinted with genuine happiness.

You bit his earlobe gently.

Rohan groaned. "You little fucking slut."

He picked you up, making you squeal. "Rohan! What are you doing?!"

He set you down on the edge of his desk and began pushing aside the papers. You had to shake your head and blink a few times for the realization to hit you. Holy shit, he's pushing ASIDE his fucking manga to have me sit on this desk, what the fuck?

Rohan smirked and pushed you down on the desk. "What? I'm just trying to make you comfortable, and you're acting as if I just pulled a bunny from a hat or some shit!"

You blushed and squealed as he knelt in front of you. You tried to sit up, but he placed a hand on your stomach and pushed you back down. "Wh-what are you-?" you whimpered.

Rohan took hold of your ankle, kissed the top of your foot. "What do you think?" he whispered as he began trailing small kisses up your legs, his other hand caressing your thigh. He trailed his hands and the kisses upwards until he reached your groin. "You came in here," he pulled you closer by your thighs, "and start to pester me. 'Oh, Rohan! You need to take a break! Oh, my dear Rohan! You must be so tired and hungry!'" he leaned forward until his hot breath hit your exposed cock. "I think I'll just suck you off and make us both happy." He kissed the tip of your cock. "Don't you like that idea, hmm?" He licked up the underside of it. "C'mon, use your words." He looked at you, his green eyes clouded with lust.

You were pretty sure all traces of modesty had been snuffed out of you by that point. You reached down and caressed his hair. "Please."

Rohan chuckled. "Please?" He leaned down. You trembled with excitement. Then he tilted his head to the side and gave your inner thigh a quick kiss. "You can do better than that, can't you?"

You almost wanted to cry. "Rohan! Please, just… touch me! I'll do anything, I swear! I just want to feel your- OH god!"

He dove down and took your entire length into his mouth and started sucking. After teasing you for so long, his vigorous pace was nearly overwhelming. You tried to push your thighs together, but he stopped them with his hands.

He would occasionally swirl his tongue around your tip. "God, you taste so good!" he moaned and hummed. You were left a mewling mess. The ends of his hair would occasionally trickle against your inner thighs, ticking you.

"Fuck! Rohan! That feels so fucking, fuck!" you whipped your head to the side and moaned, clenching your fists and curling your toes.

Rohan pulled away and chuckled, his breath making you shiver. "What was that? I couldn't quite hear what you tried to say there. Would you mind repeating yourself?"

You wanted to smack him for being a smartass, but that thought left you as soon as he gave you a particularly rough suck. "Oh, fuck! I'm close!"

Rohan pulled back and licked two of his fingers. You yelped as he pushed them in your tight hole and began scissoring them. If you could've thought at that point, you'd most likely felt embarrassed about how loud you were being. "Rohan, please!" You weren't even sure what you were asking for. Rohan delivered though. He thrust a third finger in and began doing the come hither motion. You whined as he stretched you out. He took your cock back into his mouth and started sucking in rhythm with the movement of his fingers.

You whipped your head up. "I can't Rohan! If you keep doing that, I'll-"

"Go on, do it," his voice was way huskier than usual.

You weren't exactly sure for how long you stayed there, sobbing for release while pulling away from it, but when you did finally cum, you could've sworn you almost blacked out. Your legs trembled. Your voice broke as you let out a string of curses mixed with Rohan's name. You could swear your soul left your body for a second when you realized that Rohan hadn't pulled away and had, in fact, swallowed your cum. You began feeling almost nervous when he didn't let up and just kept on swirling his tongue.

"R-Rohan! I can't-"

"Yes you can, c'mon, just let go," he muttered against your oversensitive cock.

You threw your head back and nearly screamed from pleasure. You were vaguely aware of the tears running down your cheeks. You almost feared that you'd snap apart from how good you felt.

You trashed around, trying to pull away while hoping that Rohan never let you go. You heard him chucked through your babbling. Babbling? At that point, you were downright sobbing and whimpering. You yelped as Rohan licked up the cum that he hadn't been able to swallow. You were about to tell him to stop, that you'd actually break if he went on. Before you could, however, he stood up and kissed you. You whimpered as you tasted yourself on his mouth.

"You okay?" Rohan asked.

"Yes- but fuck-" you whimpered. "How the hell did you do that?"

He chuckled and pushed a stray hair off your face. In the afterglow, you were struck by the way he was staring at you. The look in his eyes was downright soft. You could swear you had seen him look at a finished manuscript with the same expression. Your heart skipped a beat.

Rohan hummed. "What is it?"

You shook your head and bit your lip. "I'm just… realizing that we should've done this sooner."

He smiled and kissed you again. "We've got plenty of time to make up for it." He pulled away. "Shower's just down the hall. There should be a spare towel in there somewhere-"

"Don't you… I mean, don't you want to get off as well? And like… go further?" You interrupted him.

Rohan blinked at you.

You shook your head. "I mean it's okay if you don't want to! There's no hurry." You giggled nervously.

Rohan hummed and smirked. "Of course I want to… go further, I just didn't think you'd have the energy for it."

You slapped his arm playfully. "Oh, please, I can take way more than this!"

"Fine," he laughed, picked you up and began to carry you to the hallway.

"Where're we going?" you mumbled, kissing his neck.

"I figured the bed would be more comfortable for both of us."

Rohan held you up with one arm, opened the door, marched to the double bed and dropped you down on your back. You giggled and pulled him down on top of you. He captured your lips in another feverous kiss.

You tugged the collars of his shirt. "You're overdressed."

He hummed. "I suppose I am."

Rohan threw his jacket off and pulled his tank top over his head. You blushed as you saw his defined abs, making him chuckle. "Oh, so now you're embarrassed?" he cooed.

You shook your head. "Just didn't expect you to be this toned."

Rohan placed a hand on his heart and frowned. "Hey, what kind of slob do you take me for?"

You giggled and pulled him into a kiss. He smiled against you before pulling away and standing up. He unbuttoned his belt and kicked down his pants along with his boxers. You bit your lip. He truly is beautiful from head to toe.

You must've looked a mess because Rohan chuckled. "God, I can almost see your mouth watering! You really are a desperate little slut, huh?"

You got on all fours as he walked back to the bed. "Only for you," you whispered as you leaned in to give his generous cock a kiss.

Rohan breathed in a chuckle and pulled you away from his cock. "As much as I'd love to see those pretty lips of you around me, I can think of one thing I want more right now."

You hummed. "Oh, and what would that be?" Where the fuck did this confidence come from?

"What do you think, huh?" he asked before taking a small bottle of lube from the bedside table. He poured some on his fingers and spread it over your hole. He pushed a few fingers in. You moaned at the gentle stretch of his fingers inside of you.

You threw your legs around him and pulled him closer. His cock slid against yours, making you both moan.

With a few seconds of fumbling around and trying to get comfortable, Rohan lined himself up, the head of his cock rubbing against your slick entrance. He kissed you once more before pushing in. You both moaned in unison. At that point, you were thankful for his teasing earlier because the stretch would've hurt had he not toyed with you beforehand.

"Y-you can move now," you mumbled, wrapping your arms around him.

Rohan wasted no time. He pulled back and slammed in again. You whimpered at the delicious way his cock was stretching you out. Rohan buried his head against your shoulder and set a slow but hard pace. You could tell from the way he was trembling against you that he had also gotten worked up.

You jerked out a moan each time his powerful thrusts shook your body. You latched onto his back, not being able to bring yourself to care that your nails may sting.

"Fuck, Rohan, please go faster!" you moaned between the thrusts.

"Faster, eh? You sure you can-"

You grabbed his chin. "For fuck sake, Rohan! I know you want this as much as I do so shut up and fuck me like you mean it!"

Rohan grunted and grabbed your arms, twisting them over your head. "Fine. If you wanna act like a desperate little slut, I'll treat you like one." He pulled out, pulled your legs over his shoulders and slammed back in. You could only squeal as you felt every little detail of his cock rub against you.

Rohan grunted over you as he placed one hand on top of your throat and squeezed. Your moans broke into little wheezes. You wanted to cry out as his balls slapped against your ass. Everything seemed to feel so much hotter with your blood flow being restricted. You could only writhe under him.

"Fuck, I should've tied you up with something!" Rohan groaned and kissed you roughly. "Maybe next time, eh?"

You shivered and whined as the bed creaked.

Rohan tightened his hold on your neck. "Do you like that idea? Huh? Do you want me to tie you up and use you like a toy?" He leaned back and studied your messed up form.

You clenched at that. You tried to respond, but Rohan's grip was too tight.

"Hah! It's okay, I know you'd love that." He leaned back in and kissed you almost gently. Then he bit your lip and nearly snarled. "You'd love to be my slut, right? Go on, say it." He released his hold on your throat.

"YES! Oh, god, yes! Please, Rohan! Please, make me your slut, please!" You whimpered before even catching your breath properly.

Rohan moaned at that and picked up his pace again. He placed one hand on your hip and leaned down, folding your legs over. You whined at the stretch. From this position, you could take him even deeper. Rohan kissed your neck and moaned into it.

For some time, all that could be heard was the creaking of the bed and the noises you and Rohan were making. At some point, you realized that the sight of you two must be absolutely sinful to the smallest detail. The almost feral way he was using your body only managed to spur you on.

Rohan movements became sloppier. "Fuck, I'm close!" he moaned.

"Please, cum inside, please!" you whined, your voice nearly unrecognizable.

"Fuck!" Rohan's hips stuttered, and he moaned against your neck.

You whined as you felt his hot cum coat your insides. You couldn't help clenching against him at the feeling.

Without a word, Rohan pulled you into a searing kiss, your foreheads rubbing together. You stayed there for some time, panting and clinging to each other.

#jjba x reader #jjba fanfiction #Rohan kishibe x reader #kishibe rohan x reader #rohan x reader #sin

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buckyodinson · 4 years

Text

Poetry (AU!Oberyn Martell x fem!Reader)

Request based on this prompt from @ghostofthebarricade : I just thought of a Modern!AU Oberyn x Reader where the reader has a toddler daughter from a previous relationship who can‘t pronounce Oberyn‘s name properly so she just ends up calling him Obyn or Byn (Beaaaaaaaaan). And he ends up calling her little Bean…

Word Count: 2k

A/N: Much like the Javi fic, I’d like to preface this by saying I’ve never watched Game of Thrones, and know next to nothing about Oberyn other than what I’ve seen in Instagram edits, or other writing. Hopefully the Modern!AU worked in my favour here???

(D/N = daughter’s name)

You owned a small book store in your town, and it was there that you met Oberyn. He came in one morning, asking whether you had any poetry. You showed him to the shelves that contained the poetry you stocked, and left him there, telling him to give you a shout if he needed anything else.

You walked back to your desk, straightening a few books on the way there. Once you were sat back at your computer, you couldn’t help but steal glances at the man as he inspected the shelves. He was dressed very smartly, and seemed well-educated. He had an accent that you couldn’t quite place, but in the brief exchange you’d shared, you’d quickly determined it to be very attractive.

In your peripheral, you saw him approaching your desk, so you studied your computer screen more intently, hoping he didn’t notice you watching him. He placed three books on the counter and smiled at you once you looked up at him, “Could I trouble you for your opinion?” His voice was like honey and you felt heat rising across your face.

“Of course, how can I be of help?” You beamed at him.

“I like to write poetry in my spare time, but as of late, I’ve had no inspiration and I was wondering, if you had to recommend one of these to inspire me, which would you choose?” He gestured to the three books he placed in front of you.

You looked down at the books and your smile softened when you caught sight of the book in the middle, “This one, for sure. All three are beautifully written, but personally, I find these to be the most charming. I actually read these poems to my daughter. I doubt she understands them, but she sleeps well if I read one to her. I even have to make sure I pack the book when she stays at her dad’s, or she won’t go to bed!” You pick the book up and run your finger up and down the spine lovingly before handing it back to him, blushing and internally cursing yourself for talking about your ex to this random guy.

“I’ll take it, then! How old is your daughter, if I may ask?” His inquisitive eyes shine as he smiles.

“She just turned 3.” You gesture towards a photo on the wall behind you, as you process the book through the register.

“That’s us dressed as Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum from Alice in Wonderland, for World Book Day.” You smile as you look at the photo and remember all the people who came into the store that day and complimented the pair of you.

“Good costume choice, she looks just like you! It’s a lovely photo. I take it she loves books?”

“I guess she hasn’t really got a choice with me as a mother!” You joke and he chuckles.

“I bet you’re a wonderful mother. I’d have loved to have been read to all the time when I was younger.” His genuine smile makes you blush as you give him his total and he gives you the money.

“That’s very sweet of you to say, thank you. Maybe one day you’ll be reading your poetry to your own kids?” Your whole face lit up as you gave him his bag.

“Maybe…”

“Well, have a lovely day! And I’d love to read your poetry one day, if you don’t mind sharing it, that is? I bet it’s lovely.”

“Thank you. And perhaps I’ll stop by some time and let you read it.”

“I’d like that…” he gave you a small wave when he walked out the door and down the street.

You took a deep breath and picked up the two books he’d left behind, walking to place them back on the shelf, “Get a hold of yourself… he’s a complete stranger who came in to buy a book, don’t be an idiot.” you whispered to yourself. But when you reached the shelf to place the first of the books back, you saw a business card poking out between two books. Your eyebrows knitted together as you pulled it out and saw the generic business details printed, but also a mobile number handwritten on the back. You quickly put the books back and walked back to your computer, typing in the name on the card.

Oberyn Martell.

You hit search, and his face appeared, as well as a small biography. He was the son of a wealthy oil proprietor from down south. That shocked you, but when you read more, you found he could be considered the black sheep of the family - or white sheep, depending on how you looked at it. While his family were in the limelight, he led a quieter life, choosing to spend his wealth on charities, rather than splashing it on private jets and mansions. He supports several charities that deal with children who are displaced by war, and several LGBT+ charities (much to his family’s chagrin). The more you read about Oberyn, the more fascinated you grew over him, wondering what compelled him to stop in your little book store today.

You looked back at the business card, and turned it over to see the mobile number he’d scrawled on the back. You grabbed your phone and added him to your contacts, but the chime of the bell above your door alerted you to a customer, and you put your phone away before you had a chance to send him a message.

The store gets a little busier as the afternoon hits, and you don’t manage to get to your phone until later in the evening, once you’re home. When you finally sit down with a drink, you open your phone and the first thing that pops up is his contact screen. You smile and type him a message.

‘Is this the sweet-talking poet from this morning?’

You busy yourself with making dinner, dancing lightly around your kitchen when you spot your phone screen light up from across the room. You quickly grab your phone and stare at the message.

‘It sure is. I was beginning to worry you hadn’t seen my card. Or that you had, and had just thrown it in the trash.’

‘Never! I can’t pass up a poet, they’re a rarity these days. Especially if you’re planning on letting me read some of your work.’

‘Well, I’m glad you’re interested.’

You’re about to type back when you see the three little dots appear, and you wait for his second message to come through.

‘Forgive me if this is too forward, but would you like to go out for dinner with me some time?’

Your eyes widened when you read the text, but you quickly typed a reply,

‘I’d love that’

‘I’m free anytime after 6 all this week, D/N is with her dad visiting family this week.’

‘Perfect! I can pick you up from the store tomorrow, if that works?’

‘Sounds good to me!’

The next day, you were closing the shop when Oberyn pulled up to the pavement, and jumped out of the car to pull you into a hug, kissing you on the cheek. You blushed as he opened the passenger door for you, closing it once you were sat inside.

He took you for dinner at a restaurant in town, not overly fancy, but much more upmarket compared to the places you usually ate at. He told you all about his family, and you told him about your ex and your daughter, and he seemed very understanding. You chatted for hours, and you felt a real connection with him.

He dropped you home afterwards, kissing you on your doorstep before walking back to his car and driving away.

You fell for him quickly, and he was evidently enamoured with you too. You’d text constantly and he’d stop by the store often, bringing you flowers, or a small piece of poetry he’d written about you.

The big day, however, was the day you finally introduced him to your daughter. It had been just over a month of him coming to the store with little gifts, or something to eat from the bakery round the corner, and fancy dinners once or twice a week. Your daughter’s daycare was closed for the week because of some building work, so she was spending the week at the book store with you, being your little assistant.

He’d text you the night before to tell you he’d be stopping by, and you’d explained to her that she was gonna meet a new friend of yours at work, and she seemed happy enough at making a new friend.

You’d had a fairly quiet morning in the shop, D/N sat behind the counter with you all morning. If any customers bought anything, she’d give them a drawing to put in their bag when they left too. Most of your customers were regulars, who knew her very well so they all made a big deal about the little scribbles she would hand them, and you were so grateful because the smile on her face rarely wavered.

Oberyn turned up around noon looking very dapper. He waved at the pair of you as he walked in, and D/N waved back happily, simply whispering the word ‘prince’ to you. You think seeing someone dressed so smartly was a new thing for her, as she’d only ever really seen men dressed like that in princess cartoons. It made you giggle as he walked over, and you thought to yourself that he did actually look like a prince. He brought cupcakes for the both of you, and even a cute little set of gel pens for D/N, which she was very excited about.

“D/N, this is my new friend I told you about, remember?” You sat her on your lap as you pointed at Oberyn.

“Yes!” She squealed as she took a bite of her cupcake.

“Hi D/N. My name is Oberyn, it’s very nice to meet you. Your mother has told me lots about you.” He held a hand out and after a nudge from you, D/N reached her own out. Oberyn gently took her hand, and placed a kiss on her knuckles, before bowing as if she were royalty. This produced a giggle from the young girl, who smiled brightly up at Oberyn.

She tried to say Oberyn a few times, unsuccessfully, before simply settling for “Byn!”

“Is that what you wish to call me? Byn?” He chuckled at her attempts and she nodded her head enthusiastically.

“As you wish! But only if I can call you Bean?” He countered, raising an eyebrow comically, and D/N giggled yet again.

“Okay!” She happily carried on her drawing, now with her new pens, while you and Oberyn chatted.

Once it was time for Oberyn to leave, you leaned over the counter to give him a quick kiss, and D/N made a noise of disgust, which made you both chuckle.

“What do you say to Oberyn for the pens?” You smiled down at the drawings she’d done while you idly chatted away.

“Thank you!!” she practically shouted before handing him one of her drawings. It was mostly scribbles, but from the colours, Oberyn could see it was supposed to be him.

“Is this me?” His eyes went wide and he acted shocked, before holding it up next to his face, “It looks just like me! You’re so talented, Bean!” She laughed at the nickname again and reached her arms out to hug him. Oberyn looked at you, as if for permission, and you gestured for him to go ahead. He leaned forward and she wrapped her little arms around his neck, and he quickly picked her up and spun her around in a little circle, before slowing down. As he moved to put her back in her seat, she planted a big kiss on his cheek and you mimicked her earlier ‘ewww’ and she poked her tongue out at you, at which Oberyn laughed heartily.

“I must go, my doves.” He bowed dramatically again, “It was lovely to meet you, little Bean.” She gave him a massive grin in response.

She waved to him as he left the shop, promptly carrying on with her drawing.

“So, do you like Oberyn?” You asked her after a few minutes.

“Byn!!” Is all she said, but the smile on her face told you enough.

#oberyn x reader #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn x fem!reader #oberyn martell x fem!reader #pedro pascal x reader #au!oberyn

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hljkr · 4 years

Text

♤Red Lips | Ledger!Joker

red lips | ledger!joker

suspect(s): joker x reader

the crime committed: enamoured and charmed, moonlit late-night endeavours that were passionate with entwined bodies and intense orgasms. but there was just one thing missing from it all...

evidence: a lil’ swearing, titty grabbing, mentions of genitalia, suggested smut, intense kithes, joker’s kinda needy so ;))))), daddy kink, low key glove kink because I HAD to, y/n has a thing for scars and joker’s face (who doesn’t??), a like... pinch of angst??

- i had to do it to ‘em

(ok i really tried with this and by that i mean i spent a few hours on it with lousy editing buT this is my first time writing anything even slightly suggestive and with j so i hope this isn’t too bad??? just enjoy it ig djdshds)

Bunching the soft material of the blanket closer to your face, you let out a muffled whine as the insistent ringing of your annoying alarm clock rattled your eardrums and pulled you back down into reality and into a saddening state of consciousness. A shitty way to start the day after a blissful night only a few hours before. Last night had taken its toll on you physically, the bruises decorating your skin and scratch marks adorning your body were evidence enough but you loved and cherished every single one of them. Sighing contentedly, you thought over how amazing it was to be fucked into submission by the love and joy of your life, although he’d never explicitly ever put such a label on you. Even then, the sex was proof enough that he harboured some kind of feelings for you and that was enough to satiate your rapidly growing obsession with the killer clown all of Gotham feared.

Maybe falling in love with the mad man was a mistake, maybe he wasn’t good for you as all the city loved to preach. But who were they to ever have a say? They would never know him like you did, but admittedly even your knowledge of him was limited to what time he woke up and what time he returned. He’d never told you his name, would refuse to remove his protective layer of greasepaint no matter how much you begged and even his age was unanswered for. But what you did know was that he was your J and you’d do anything for him.

Nearly everything for him.

J was a complex and interesting person- his mannerisms and body language always screamed one thing only in the public eye but with you, he was (slightly) more careful, more passionate and while in front of everyone else he’d never be caught dead acting this way but with you, he was generous in multiple ways many could never even imagine him being. You considered yourself privileged to know the criminal mastermind of the city had a soft spot for you. And although you barely knew him, you weren’t afraid to be vulnerable with him. You’d gladly let him into your life and indulged him in your past and your secrets and gifted him your heart as well. But there was one thing that you could never deal with, and it was his lips.

The scars were gorgeous in your eyes, they only added to his already attractive appearance and made your heart leap from even looking at them. You loved to gently trace your fingertips over the smooth faded lines gracing his cheeks while he was resting, admiring them and have pride seep into your chest knowing how strong and resilient he was going through something so obviously traumatic and not allowing it to stop him from doing anything he wanted. But you didn’t lie to yourself, the things he wanted were questionable but you didn’t let it get the best of you. Being intimate with the green-haired clown, the sight of his scars made your arousal and lust for him reach heights you’d never experienced with any ordinary guy. His entire physique had you on your knees for him every day of the week without a fail.

But his lips, covered in the hauntingly familiar red paint that made you shiver at the thought of even touching with your lips. The amount he licked his lips in a day smudged and moistened the paint to a slimy consistency and it made shivers travel down your back. It made you weak in the knees in the worst way possible. For this reason, you absolutely refused to kiss him. And because of this rule, J was not a happy camper.

♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎

“Come on doll, why don’t you give your-a, J a little kiss?” The Joker cocked his eyebrow, staring down at you from the doorway as you absentmindedly flipped through the TV channels trying to figure out what to watch.

“Because it’s nasty, all your shitty paint is sweaty and wet and your lips are probably slimy from how much you lick them,” you scrunched your nose at the thought of it, shaking your head as you turned to face in his direction. He was visibly unamused and rolled his eyes.

“You're being drama-tic,” he groaned, adjusting his infamous purple coat and stalking towards you, “It’s just a little peck, princess, would it kill ya to show me a little loving?”

“Yes.”

Glaring into his empty eyes, you rose from your spot on the bed and stood in front of him. Your arms were crossed to try attempt to stand your ground, hoping that your stance would make him back down slightly. But this was J you were talking about and your sanguine theory was quickly disproven. Rolling his eyes, his hands immediately circled your waist and pulled you flush against his body. His sturdy chest was pressed against yours, allowing you to feel his steady heartbeat while yours was embarrassingly pounding out of your chest.

“Mmm, come on, doll,” his face was drawing closer to yours, sweat beginning to build up from the nerves. You’d probably fucked a million times and sucked his dick twice that, but kissing felt like a whole other... unpleasant territory.

“J,” you whispered, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth as you carefully considered your options. From close up, the red greasepaint seemed even more gooey and sticky and you visibly winced. There was no way you were going to kiss him, not with that mess all over his mouth.

Pressing a hand against his chest, you gently pushed him back. It was far enough for him to be an inch or two away from you. Unwinding his muscular arms from around your weaker body, you turned towards the door before looking back at him and giving him a sultry stare, “if your scars are anything to go by, you’re sexier without the greasepaint... just saying.”

♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎♔♥︎

A few days later, you were leaning against your kitchen counter and in desperate need of caffeine. Dumping the heaped spoon of coffee grounds into your mug, you idly stirred the drink as you peered around your home. It had been a while since you stayed the night at your house, mainly deciding to spend your days and nights with Joker wherever he decided to spend his time. This time, he’d insisted you stayed at your own place due to some stupid bank heist he was planning with his thugs and explained that ‘he wouldn’t tolerate any distractions.’

Sighing in boredom, you picked up the mug by the handle and carefully waddled over to your couch. Placing the cup onto your coffee table, you plopped down onto the couch and kicked your feet up onto the armrest. The first thing you did was turn the TV on, instantly turning to the news channel to see if J had been true to his word the previous night.

“We have just received reports of another one of The Joker’s-”

Scoffing in disbelief, you pulled yourself up on the couch before turning to another channel- not wanting to listen to how J had lied to you about his escapades only a few hours earlier. Whenever you saw him next you were determined to give him a piece of your mind, you decided. Bringing the boiling hot beverage up to your lips, you gulped down the caffeine that scorched your tongue and burned your throat as it trickled down into your stomach.

It wasn’t any secret, you despised J’s criminal ways and his cunning schemes and all the bad things he loved. You would never force him to stop, your main concern his safety and the thought of him teasing you with his gun and the thought of the sensation of his cool knife brushing against your skin made you hot and bothered. He was quick to calm your doubts and worries, reassuring you that the evil genius could never be killed or caught for long because he always had you to come back to.

Unfortunately, due to him knowing your qualms he tended to lie about his whereabouts to purge you of sleepless nights and restless days spent brooding over him.

“Asshole,” you whispered under your breath, going to take another big mouthful of the drink when it was promptly slapped out of your gasp and tumbled onto the carpet. It narrowly avoided your couch and was a hairs width of coming in contact with your skin.

“You-a, know you love me, Doll,” J’s rough dark voice came from behind you, every hair on your body standing on end as the reality of the situation dawned on you as your back straightened up in fear, “maybe a kiss will-a, make me feel better after you were so rude to Daddy.”

Breath hitching at his creative choice of wording, your core tingled from the excitement his words brought you. Nervously biting your bottom lip between your teeth, you froze as you felt J’s gloved hand sneak around to your front and rest just above your tits. The promise of his hands hidden behind purple leather touching you made you squirm in your seat. The delicious mix of fear and elation you felt began to cloud your better judgement, knowing deep down you should confront him about what he said but wanting to allow yourself to get carried away with him.

“A kiss? Nothing else?” you softly spoke, turning to face him with half-lidded eyes and an intense fire burning in your gut. Your eyes went to his at first, slowly analysing the rest of his features. The change didn’t register with you at first, your desire fogging your mind and didn’t allow you to see past the image of the regular J you were accustomed to.

“Is my-a, face as sexy as you imaged, Doll?”

Confusion coated your face, eyes frantically wandering around before they widened in awe at the tantalizing sight presented in front of you. His usual white and red paint had been wiped away, small traces of his black eye rimming paint remaining. He was understandably in a rush on his way to your place, but you looked past that as you took in the face of the person you loved.

Crashing his lips against yours, his chapped lips moved with vigour as he swallowed your needy whines and moans that sent heat to his hardening cock. His hand dropped and squeezed your breast painfully hard, but it made a gush of wetness leak from your deprived pussy. Twisting your erect nipple between his fingers, he pressed harder against your plump lips and easily coaxed out more sweet noises from your swollen lips.

“Fuck,” you gasped, hands lifting to grasp his green strands of hair and tugging hard on them, relishing in the grunt he lets out from the sapid stimulation. You felt like putty in his hands, ready to do anything he wanted just to please him. You wanted to ride his cock and see stars, satisfy him in ways that would have him cumming in seconds. And now without that muck coating his lips, your swollen pussy and kissable pink lips were more than willing to give him everything.

“On-a, all fours with your ass in the air, Princess. Daddy wants to have a little fun with his little girl before he-a, has to get back to work.”

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swan--writes · 4 years

Note

Hey! How about "It's Still Rock and Roll to Me" for the Feb asks?

I did not edit this. At all. Not a single sentence. Heard you were having a rough time though, so I wanted to get this out tonight. I hope you feel better, and if you need to talk you can chat with me!

Warnings: VERY negative self-talk, total despondence, just a really bad day man

Words: ~1,380 (this will probably be the longest request I write this month)

What’s the matter with the clothes I’m wearing?

You held the thick paper with one hand, shading with the other.

Can’t you tell that your tie’s too wide?

The radio played softly in the background. You sat hunched over your wooden kitchen table, the light hitting the page just right through the window.

Maybe I should buy some old tab collars?

“It’s a sign,” came a voice from over your shoulder.

Welcome back to the age of jive.

“What’s a sign?” you murmured. You didn’t look up from the comic strip you were working on. It was your morning warm-up – a pointless little piece about two chairs having an existential debate à la Calvin and Hobbes. Personally, you agreed with the sturdy, elegant armchair, but of course, the folding chair had the final word.

Dewey turned up the radio, then set his briefcase on the bench beside the door. Dewey with a briefcase was still a very…very strange sight, but Peggy and Ned had given it to him for his birthday a few days ago and damnit, he was going to use it whether he liked it or not.

Your boyfriend came to stand before you. “Look at me.” Serenely, you obliged. Shiny oxford shoes, grey pants, scarlet and burnt orange knit vest over a white button down and orange tie, floppy wavy hair. “I look ridiculous. I can’t go out like this, there’s no way.”

Where have you been hidin’ out lately, honey?

Raising an eyebrow, you let go of your pencil and stood. “Well yeah, you gotta tuck your shirt in.” Dewey’s breath went shallow when you straightened, only a few inches from his soft, stunning body. “Where’s your belt?” You lifted your leg over the chair you had been sitting on and hopped away from the table, heading over to the coffee maker.

You can’t dress this trashy till you spend a lot of money.

“Uh, it’s in the bathroom. Always forget it.” You smirked at his breathy tone, loving the affect you had on him. “Um…” Dewey’s feet seemed to carry him toward the bathroom before he had made a decision. Swaying to the music, you poured the rest of the coffee you had made earlier into a travel mug, spooned in some sugar, screwed on the top, and shook it. He always swore he could tell when his coffee was stirred, and apparently it threw off his whole day.

Dewey came back into the kitchen, going to stand where he had been moments earlier. His button down was tucked in now, and he wore a belt. You walked up to him, handed him the travel mug, and loosened his tie.

“You’re trying way too hard, love.”

“Right,” he laughed shakily.

Everybody’s talkin’ ‘bout the new sound…

When you slipped his down out from his collar, you could feel the heat radiating from his neck. You smiled at him sweetly, kissed his cheek, and smacked his hip gently with the tie like you would with a dish towel. “Enjoy the meeting.” He nodded, picked up his briefcase, and rushed through the door before you could do anything else.

Funny, but it’s still rock and roll to me.

You spent the full day drawing comic after comic, writing plotline after plotline, singing along with old song after old song.

Nothing seemed to turn out right. You tried turning off the music, it was too quiet. You tried turning it up, it was too distracting.

Oh, it doesn’t matter what they say in the papers ‘cause it’s always been the same old scene.

You moved with the sunlight. You took breaks, dancing around the living room of the apartment you and Dewey shared.

There’s a new band in town but you can’t get the sound from a story in a magazine…

You doodled aimlessly in the cheap sketchbook Dewey had given you for your anniversary. But nothing you tried helped. Nothing worked. Eight hours and you had not produced a single goddamn worthwhile thing. How – fucking how did this become your job?

Aimed at your average teen.

Eventually, you collapsed onto the couch, your legs hanging over the arm.

That’s how Dewey found you when he came home after music coaching. The plan had been for him to get changed and get a drink with Ned and some other guys they had gone to high school with. The plan had been that you would be at home working all day. The plan went out the third story window and crashed to its rather graphic death the moment he saw you lying half-on the couch, staring at the ceiling with your hands clasped on your abdomen like a corpse.

Ooh, what’s the matter with the crowd I’m seeing?

“Honey, what are you doing?” he asked, not entirely without humor but clearly concerned. You couldn’t see him, he was standing at your feet and you were still staring at the ceiling, but you imagined a creased brow and a nervous smile. You shrugged as best you could with your shoulders pressed into the cushion beneath you.

Don’t you know that they’re out of touch?

“Chillin’. Maxin’, relaxin’. How are the kids?”

“Stuck up little brats.”

Well, should I try to be a straight-A student?

“Talented brats,” you pointed out. He made a playfully indignant noise. “You love those guys.”

“Yeah…” For the first time since Dewey had left that day, you smiled.

If you are, then you think too much.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly. It wasn’t often that his tone became this gentle, but when it did you knew you couldn’t brush him off if you tried. Dewey came to sit on the couch. You thought he would sit beside your head, but instead he slipped his soft, strong hands under your head and the center of your shoulders and lifted your head into his lap. He stroked your hair and leaned back, clearly prepared to listen to you.

Don’t you know about the new fashion, honey?

“Nothing I do is good enough,” you rasped, gravity pulling an involuntary tear from the corner of your eye.

All you need are looks and a whole lotta money.

“That’s not true.” You shook your head at Dewey’s insistence. What did he know about visual arts? This was your job, not his. And you were failing. But trying to explain it to him would be too much, and you knew it.

“Forget it,” you said, stretching an arm across your torso. “Can you just scratch my arm?”

It’s the next phase, new wave, dance craze, anyways…

“Uh-uh, not until you talk to me.”

The sigh that escaped you nearly took out a lung tissue sample. Dewey just raised his eyebrows and waited. You forced yourself to speak through your readily tightening throat. “We all have industry standards, and I am falling miserably behind.”

It’s still rock and roll to me.

“Are you?”

“Yes,” you insisted.

“Y’know who else fell behind?” You simply watched him and waited. “Every artist who’s ever lived. Me. This time last year, I was a basement-dwelling trashcan who literally impersonated my best friend so I wouldn’t get kicked out.” His voice was flat but sympathetic, pressing against the doubts crashing through your head and trying to force them behind the dam that had been in place that morning. “So get out all the dumb shit. Trust me, I know it’s in there.”

At that, you had to laugh. You couldn’t help it.

He laughed with you and slowly started scratching your arm soothingly. “I’m serious, let yourself make terrible art! We went to the battle of the bands with a song written by a ten year-old because I couldn’t write anything worthwhile. It’s okay to make bad art–even just art that you think is bad. Just make art, a’right?” Dewey lifted your hand and kissed it.

“But it’s my job,” you protested, voice cracking.

“Technically, teaching was my job, and look how that turned out.

“It turned out perfectly.”

“I almost got arrested, Y/N!”

Everybody’s talkin’ ‘bout the new sound…

“Yeah, yeah,” you grumbled. He laughed at you and nuzzled the back of your hand.

Funny, but it’s still rock and roll to me.

Buy Me a Coffee?

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the-dragon-central · 5 years

Note

I would love to submit a prompt if you're taking them. I had an idea wherein Hiccup gets forlorn about the fact that his children will never know Stoick (and Stoick would never know his grandchildren), and he ends up discussing it with Valka, either because she overhears him talking about it or he confronts her about it. I realize this is kind of a heavy subject, but it was just something I was thinking about. Thanks, haha!

Hello Anon! @fan-writer02 here. I’m SO sorry this has taken as long as it has. I’ve been sitting on this request for weeks now and have just now had the time to get it written up. But I hope it’s enjoyable none-the-less, and is a satisfying answer to your request. Enjoy!

Here

Hiccup was undeniably tired. His head ached, his chest hurt, and his hand was still bandaged from a few days prior when Astrid had squeezed it too tight. He’d felt something crack, though he’d never tell her that. He’d merely said it was a small sprain and he’d be right as rain in a few days (which he fully intended to be, healed or not).

Poor Astrid. She’d felt awful. “I’m so sorry, Hiccup, gods…“

He’d been quick to reassure her. Who was he to complain about a little pain in his hand, when she had just suffered through childbirth? He’d kissed her forehead for the utmost time that day, and smoothed her hair out of her face (with his good hand). “Ast, it helped you bring this little bundle into the world. Don’t apologize."

The little bundle, of course, meant their newborn son.

Who had, for the past five days, wailed his head off every half hour or so during the night. Astrid was burnt out past exhaustion, and with her body still healing, Hiccup had tried his best to give her a little extra rest.

Valka had offered to take over his duties as chief until she deemed Hiccup ready to return. He’d protested meekly, saying he was more than capable of deciding when he was healthy enough to resume his duties. She’d only given him the stink eye and looked past him at Astrid for support.

His wife had agreed. "She’s right, Hiccup."

Of course they’d gang up on him. But, though he hated to admit it, the free time was very nice, and deeply appreciated. He spent a lot of time with Zephyr, who had adjusted amazingly well to the new addition to the family. She liked to hold little Nuffink, and would try to braid his short fluffy hair. She loved helping Hiccup with the meals. It was her special chore to set the table and sweep the floor, which she pounced upon eagerly. She said it was just like when she played house in the forest, only better because this was real.

After supper one evening, Hiccup helped Astrid come outside onto the porch. She’d been bugging him for the past two days to let her at least poke her head out the door for some fresh air. But with the constant rain, he hadn’t wanted her to get sick. Was he being a little overbearing? Probably. But… he’d never be able to describe how terrifying it is to watch his wife go through… all of that. And have absolutely no control over what’s happening or what could happen. If something went wrong, he was helpless to prevent it.

So, if he could keep her from falling ill, by Thor’s thunder he would. And Astrid would just smile and tilt her head, consenting all too easily. He knew she was letting him coddle her, not necessarily because she liked it- but because she knew him. She knew he needed that little something.

He helped her sit down on one of their dining chairs he’d pulled from the house. He plopped down on the bottom step beside her, before pulling off his cloak and draping it over her shoulders. In her arms slept little Nuffink. Looking at his pudgy pink face, Hiccup would never accuse him of being a little screaming nightmare at any given time of the day. But, of course, he knew better. As if his body was trying to remind him, he stifled a yawn.

"You should go rest while he’s sleeping.” Astrid said quietly, looking over at him with worried eyes. “Zephyr and I can handle him for an hour or two."

Hiccup leaned back against the steps and closed his eyes. "I’ll be fine. I’d like to spend some time with my two girls.” He peeped one eye open and smiled. “But do pardon my yawning, milady."

Zephyr rushed by, her hand clutching a stick with a scrap of fabric tied to the end; a makeshift flag she’d designed out of ‘Momma’s ol’ rags’. In the other arm she clutched her stuffed Nightfury.

Hiccup’s smile faded, and he closed his eyes again. As it often did in such quiet and peaceful moments as these, his mind wandered. Wandered to a past that was better off forgotten, but he just couldn’t seem to forget.

"I wonder what Dad would say, if he were here.” He suddenly said, surprising even himself. It was something he’d thought too many times to count, but not once had he voiced it. There’d only been one occasion when Stoick had been mentioned, and it was after Zephyr’s birth. Astrid had smiled through her tears and replied strongly, “You’re Dad would be so proud, Hiccup. Proud of you. Proud of us."

Maybe his Mom had thought he hadn’t noticed, but Hiccup had. He’d noticed how she’d fallen short, her breath had faltered, and how she had quickly slipped out of the room. He hadn’t mentioned it since.

"I’ve already told you.” Astrid’s voice interrupted his musings. “He’d be proud.” Her own voice carried said virtue, he tone warm. He looked up at her, and saw how she gazed at Zephyr, then at Nuffink. She wore a smile so soft, yet so strong; anyone could tell it spoke of a fiery love. Then she looked at him with the same look.

The evening wore on, and Hiccup must’ve fallen asleep, for when he opened his eyes for the second time, it was dark, and Astrid and Zephyr were gone. His cloak was sprawled over his chest and legs.

He sat up and blinked. A figure was drawing closer until they were near enough for him to see. It was his mother.

She didn’t say anything, only came up to sit beside him. From within their hut, Hiccup could hear the faint sound of Astrid singing a lullaby.

“And what brings you out here, sleeping on the steps of your home rather than in your home?” Valka asked, her voice carrying laughter. She looked to him with a playful smile.

He smiled softly. “I suppose I was more tired than I thought.” He sobered. “I… I was thinking of Dad."

Her playfulness wilted away, leaving only a weathered face and sad eyes. "Ah, yes. I was wondering…” she trailed off. “I was wondering when you’d bring him up. I’ve noticed how you look at Zephyr, and now Nuffink."

"He’ll never meet them.” Hiccup said bluntly. He felt so tired. He didn’t have the strength to cry. He only felt… empty. “Dad would talk about Astrid and I having kids. He joked about it constantly, but, deep down I knew he’d give anything to have a grandbaby to bounce on his knee. And here he has two, and he’ll never meet either of them."

He felt an arm wrap around his shoulder and draw him close, but he couldn’t bring himself to melt into the embrace. He was a man, he was strong. Or he should be.

"How is life so… so unfair?"

"It’s the way of the gods.” Valka reassured softly. “Stoick is looking down from Valhalla, watching you raise your children. And I know- no, I can feel- how proud he is of you. He’s probably busting his buttons. Imagine him telling Odin about every little progress Zephyr makes. ‘Today me grandaughter broke her first tooth!’ ’T'day me grandbaby took a step! Was Hiccup ‘elping 'er? Bah, who cares! She lifted her own foot.’,"

Hiccup chuckled and fiddled with his cloak. Even though Valka’s attempt at Stoick’s voice was far from the truth- he could still hear him say every word.

She kissed his forehead. "Go rest, Hiccup, and don’t fret about it anymore.” She stood and straightened her skirt. “Tomorrow will dawn a new day, new beginnings. Think of the future and not the past.” She began heading towards the village. “You have two little bundles of proof to tell ye it’s going to be a bright one.” She said, more to herself than to Hiccup.

He watched her grow further away, until the night entirely swallowed her up. The door to the hut opened, and Astrid whispered his name.

“Zephyr wants you to tuck her in bed.” She said.

Hiccup took one last look at the starry sky above, before telling her he’d be right in. He got to his feet and picked up his cloak, dusting off the few strands of grass it’d collected. He paused, then sighed before looking up again.

“Dad, you have a new grandson.” He smiled, “A healthy boy. Nuffink. Named after Mom’s uncle…” He swallowed thickly, and tried to find something to say. Finally, he whispered. “You’d love him."

The stars twinkled back, a silent answer.

176 notes · View notes

takingcourage · 5 years

Text

Flat

Pairing: Jaime x MC

Word Count: 1,750

Summary: A blown tire leaves Arden stranded on the side of the road. Will she allow Jaime to help, or will her stubbornness get the better of her?

Note: My sincere apologies for failing to update Additions last week. School was all consuming and the time I meant to spend editing part 5 went to grading instead. Life should settle down soon, but in the meantime, here’s a quick little story that started as a drabble and got out of hand.

Thanks, @krishu213 for requesting #2 from the 45 OTP Prompt list! : ) The prompt itself is in bold.

Kicking the driver’s door shut behind her, Arden sidestepped to the back of her car. She swung the trunk open with one hand, using the other to raise her cell phone to her ear. The tinny speaker rang twice before Jaime picked up.

“Hello?”

“Hey, babe,” she started casually. With her free hand, she rummaged through a mess of papers and her spare umbrella, tossing them to one side of the spacious trunk. “I’m just calling to let you know that I’ll be a few minutes late tonight. Nothing to worry about. I’m fine.”

There was a pause before his response. “Are you on the highway?”

Arden winced at the realization that he could hear the speeding traffic from the other end of the phone. “Uh…”

She couldn’t lie.

They didn’t lie to each other. Especially not after that disastrous second interview with Carmichael a year ago. Resigned, she sped over the response to his question. “Yeah, changing the tire real quick.”

“Arden…” He wasn’t upset, per se, but the resignation in his tone still stung.

“I know how to do it,” she protested, wedging the phone between her cheek and shoulder. As she listened to his tentative breath across the line, she tossed an empty suitcase to the side of the road. “Jaime, even if you hadn’t taught me how to do this, there are Wiki-hows and tutorials all over Youtube. I’ve got this covered.”

With a grimace, she recalled the fact that she’d barely been able to get the lug nuts off when they’d practiced in their driveway.

“I taught you in case of emergencies. This isn’t an emergency.”

Arden soldiered on petulantly, ignoring the sheen of sweat that was breaking over her forehead. With a quiet grunt, she yanked up the floor of the trunk to expose the donut and jack.

“Babe, get back in the car,” his tone was gentle, but commanding. “Turn up the AC and hang out for a few minutes. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

As much as she wanted to argue, just the sight of the pitiful replacement tire was enough to stir up a sense of dread in the pit of her stomach. With only a moment’s consideration, she dropped the flap back down and returned to the driver’s seat. “Okay.”

“Thank you. And thanks for calling me. I know you didn’t want to.”

“You’re welcome,” she mumbled. With an extended sigh, she started the car and watched the traffic through her rearview mirror. There were still a lot of sunlight hours left, but she couldn’t wait for the day to be over.

A key interview had fallen through this afternoon at the last minute. She and Ellen had been this close to completing their one-year retrospective on the state of Oak Hills, and today’s interview was supposed to be the finishing touch for the entire project. If they didn’t find someone else to fill the gap, the final third of the article would no longer fit the way they’d intended.

Arden leaned into the vent, trying to keep her burning eyes from breaking into tears. Such disappointments were inevitable in her line of work, but the stakes felt especially high with this story. She knew those farmers personally. She and Jaime had helped in the efforts to clean up the damage that the oil pipeline left behind. Better than anyone, she knew the work that still needed to be done in the months and years to come. Letting their story go forgotten was intolerable.

Jaime’s engine revved on the other side of the line.

Leaning back into her seat, she reached for her briefcase. “I should probably let you focus on driving,” she offered as she slipped the laptop from its sleeve.

He was quiet for several moments. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

Biting her tongue to draw out the sting of disappointment, she pressed her face into the flow of air a second time. “It’s just been a long day,” she told him finally. “I’m ready for it to be over so I can come home.”

“Okay. I’m coming as fast as I can.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you soon.”

“See you. Wait, Arden?” It sounded like an afterthought. “Please stay in the car. I want you safe.”

She smiled despite herself, giggling softly at his unnecessary worry. “It’s the back passenger tire. I could get out and fix it without ever being on the side of traffic.”

“No...”

It was impossible not to challenge him when she heard the unease in his tone. “I’m serious! I could head out there and start loosening things up for you.”

“No.”

“Are you sure? I’ll bet I could have the lug nuts off by the time you get here.”

She could just hear his chuckle over the line as he realized she was joking. “I’m sure you’d threaten them into submission. All hundred and five pounds of you...” he added under his breath. “Just hang tight. I’ll be there in less than fifteen minutes.”

“See you soon,” she agreed, feeling more at ease than she had in hours.

True to his word, he arrived some thirteen minutes later. In the meantime, she’d started outlining potential changes to the article’s organization. It hadn’t been much, but the work she’d done was enough to persuade her that there was still hope of finishing the story well, with or without the interview.

Arden closed the computer as his familiar truck slowed and came to a stop on the shoulder behind. Both exiting carefully, they met one another on the stretch of pavement between vehicles.

She flashed a shy smile, unable to keep her eyes from drifting over the sorry scene she’d caused. From the wilted tire to the contents of her trunk that were strewn along the shoulder, it wasn’t a pretty sight. Jaime’s gaze remained trained on her.

“You look like you need a hug.” He was inches away, the mingled scent of his deodorant and aftershave heady in the summer heat.

“It’s hot and sticky,” she protested weakly. Even as she did so, she dropped both hands to her sides and fell into his broad chest.

He pulled her close, enveloping her every sense. “We’ll be home showering soon.”

Arden’s lips tickled with the sigh she exhaled against the soft cotton of his T-shirt. “Good. I’m so done with today.” No matter how wonderful he felt, the evening sun was quickly making their hug unbearable. She stepped back and straightened the hem of her blouse.

Jaime hiked a hand through his hair before turning his attention to her flat. “Wanna tell me about it while I get this tire straightened out?”

“Not yet.” She circled the car with him, propping a hip against the passenger side door. “I’m still trying to figure out how to solve it at the moment. But I’ll fill you in once I do.”

“Deal.”

She watched as he returned to the open trunk, noticing the skeptical look he’d cast over the belongings she’d tossed to the side of the road.

Although he said nothing, she hoped he didn’t notice the way the tags on her suitcase fluttered under the pressure of speeding traffic. Or the tear in the plastic wrapping of her value-pack of toilet paper. Or the fact that her twelve-pack of ginger ale was being exposed to extreme temperatures while sitting out on the asphalt.

“I know, I know. My car’s a mess.”

He met her eyes with a lopsided grin. “You’ve just gotta stop using your trunk as a catch-all for things you don’t feel like carrying into the house.”

“But it’s such a good place for storage!”

Jaime rolled his eyes and lifted out the donut for inspection. “There are shelves in our pantry for all of that stuff.”

Pursing her lips, she reluctantly acknowledged that he was right. “I’ll empty it when we get home.”

Shaking his head, he knelt to begin removing the busted tire. Arden held out a hand to take the lug nuts, one by one.

“I’m glad you called me. These were stuck on pretty tight.”

“I would have gotten them eventually.”

His arm paused as he squinted up at her. “I know. But you don’t have to wait for eventually. I can have you out of here as soon as possible.”

A flare of jealousy turned her appreciation into anger. She knew he didn’t mean anything by it, but the implication reminded her of the afternoon’s previous failure. Faced with the memory of something she couldn’t do on her own, it was difficult to swallow the pride he took in his own abilities.

“I’m not helpless,” she mumbled, not intending the words for anyone but herself.

Jaime dropped the tire iron with a clatter and stood to his feet. He kept his dirty hands far away from her clothes, but brushed a knuckle along the back of her wrist. “Arden, look at me.”

She obeyed, cheeks throbbing red from the heat of her frustration. Her husband was as calm and collected as ever, his own muscles relaxed even as she tightened her grip on the small metal circles in her palm.

“Babe, you are absolutely the furthest thing from helpless. I hope that never changes. But it doesn’t mean you can’t let others help you from time to time.”

“I just hate being needy.” She glanced back toward the battered tire between them.

“Two things.” He made sure that he had her eyes again before continuing on. “You aren’t needy, and I really enjoy helping you. I have for a long time.”

The corners of her mouth curved up, leaving brighter thoughts behind. “You really are Mr. Fix-it, aren’t you?”

His face quirked with a dubious slant before settling into a smile. “For you? Happily.”

Arden swept up the tire iron and handed it back to him with an affectionate grin, her lungs inflating with a new sense of purpose. “Then let’s finish up here and go home.”

“Wanna go for a swim when we get back?”

Feeling the burdens of the afternoon lift from her shoulders, she threw her head back with a laugh. “Yes, please.”

“But Arden?” He wrenched the final nut loose and handed it to her with a flourish.

“Hmm?”

“We’re emptying that trunk first.”

She giggled as she caught his sidelong glance. Suddenly, the rest of the day didn’t seem so bad after all.

#playchoices #playchoices fanfiction #wishful thinking #jaime lewis #jaime x mc

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silverarmedassassin · 4 years

Text

Day Six: A Christmas Date

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (College AU) Word Count: 4269 - sorry this one kind of got away from me whoops Summary: Bucky is desperate to find a date for his fraternity's Christmas party. You happen to stumble into the conversation at the wrong time. Or is it?

A/N: And we’re back! I’ve had a really rough past couple of days and couldn’t get any writing done, so I’m going to be playing catch up for the next few days. I hope to have days 7, 8 and 9 all out by tomorrow evening, but we’ll see. I have tomorrow off so I’ll have plenty of time to write and edit what I already have written! Enjoy!

2019 Christmas Masterlist

“Come on Stevie. Peggy has to have at least one cute single friend she can hook me up with!”

Steve looks over the top of the espresso machine he’s working with and glares at Bucky. His best friend is currently sulking over his coffee at the pick-up counter as he complains about this week’s girl issues. “Buck, I’m working.”

“But Dot’s gonna be there with her new boyfriend! If I show up alone, I’m gonna look like a total loser!”

“You’re going to look like a loser no matter what you do,” your voice chimes in as you walk up next to Bucky at the counter. You smile at Steve as he starts to prepare your usual order, and Bucky grumbles into his coffee. “What’s this one crying about now?”

“His fraternity is hosting a Christmas party and he doesn’t have a date. Word is Dottie’s gonna be there and Bucky’s freaking out.”

“Ahh,” you hum as you lean on your elbows and look towards Bucky. “What happened to the girl - was it Misty? - that’s been hanging around the past few weeks?

He glares at you as he straightens up. “It was Mandy. And we wanted...different things.”

“Oh, so she wanted something serious and you just wanted to get your dick wet?”

Bucky nearly chokes on his coffee, and you’re sure you’re going to have to call an ambulance on Steve for how hard he’s laughing. You can’t help but chuckle yourself as he leans over the counter to fist bump you between his wheezing.

“You know Buck,” Steve says as he attempts to steady himself, “you should take Y/N!”

“What!?” you and Bucky exclaim at the same time. Bucky in a panic and you shocked that Steve would even drag you into the situation.

“Yea! She knows you’re a terrible date, and she can put up with your shit. Plus, there’d be no,” Steve wiggles his eyebrows then, “expectations at the end of the night. And she’s the only one in the group that’s single.”

You scoff and cross your arms. “What about Carol? She’s not seeing anyone.”

“Everyone knows Carol is gay. It’d be too unbelievable.” Steve shrugs his shoulders like his suggestion is the obvious answer.

Bucky was quiet throughout the entire exchange while he fought his own internal battle. On one hand, he’d been considering asking you to be his date. Not out of desperation, but because he truly wanted to spend time with you, show you off not just to Dot, but to everyone.

But on the other hand, the sensible, realistic hand, he knew you’d laugh in his face if he’d ask you. Not that you were cruel, it was just that your friendship hadn’t always been as carefree and easy as it was now. Plus, he didn’t want to use you of all people to rub in Dot’s face.

The party was in less than eight hours, however, and he was getting a little bit desperate. Maybe Steve bringing up the date could really save him.

Fuck it, Bucky thinks to himself, I’m just gonna ask her.

“Yea! Come on, Y/N, be my date!” He puts on his best pouty face and bats his ridiculously long eyelashes at you. “Pleeeeease? Can’t you pretend you don’t hate me for just one night? I’ll buy you your coffee for an entire week straight. Please!”

“Okay! Okay, okay, you’re making a scene,” you shush Bucky as his pleas grow louder, drawing the attention of those sitting closest to the counter. “I’ll go with you, just stop!”

Bucky stops pouting and gives you an exasperated look. “Wait, really? You’ll really go with me?” He tries not to let the excitement seep through his tone.

You shrug nonchalantly. “It’s been a while since I’ve been to a good party. Plus, I’m never going to pass up free alcohol.”

Bucky bites his lip in an attempt to hold back a smile, but his excitement is too much to contain. “Yes!” he says as he punches the air. “You don’t know how much you’re saving my ass, really I-”

He’s cut off when his phone starts to vibrate. Pulling it out of his pocket, he looks back to you and Steve. “Listen, I gotta run,” he says as he starts backing up towards the front door. “I’ll pick you up at your place at 5:30, okay?”

Before you can respond, Bucky is planting a chaste kiss to the side of your head and running out of the coffee shop. You sigh as you lean back and watch him through the shop’s windows.

“You know, if you could just keep it in his pants for more than a day, maybe he could find someone to commit it.”

Steve slides your drink over the counter towards you as his best friend disappears down the street towards campus. “Yea,” he says, turning his gaze on the back of your head. “But I think the girl he’s really interested in is too far out of reach for him.”

You turn and grab your coffee and shrug. “I better get going too. You have a job to do and I have a dress to go buy! Thanks, Stevie!”

You wave as you make your way towards the front door, and Steve just shakes his head. “They’re such idiots,” he says under his breath before turning his attention back to his work.

When 5:20 p.m. rolls around, you’re standing in front of the mirror in your room, twirling side to side so that you can examine your dark purple, crushed velvet dress. The skirt, as your roommate Natasha described it, is a nice flirty length, falling midthigh. Although not too revealing, the dress still revealed enough skin on top to be a little hazardous. With the neckline scooping to just above the valley of your breasts, and the back going down just as far, you felt

“Are you sure this is okay?” you ask as you examine your backside again.

Natasha, who is sprawled out on your bed, sighs and looks up from her chemistry textbook for the fifteenth time in as many minutes. “I told you, it’s perfect. You’re going to have every guy at that party begging on their knees for your attention.”

You make eye contact through the mirror but quickly avert your gaze. “Yeah, but what will Buc-”

“What will Bucky what?” Natasha interrupts you as she sits up fully. “It’s just Bucky. Since when does his opinion on what you do or wear matter?”

You bite your lip. She’s right, it is just Bucky. But that was the problem. You’re not sure when just Bucky started causing your stomach to do somersaults and your heart feel like it was going to explode in your chest.

It’s not like you hadn’t known Bucky for almost three years. It’s not like you had fallen for his devilishly handsome looks the moment he stepped foot into your freshman English class. Or his ridiculous charm when you accidentally ran into him in the dorm hallway one morning when you were running late for class.

And it’s not like you’ve spent the last four years burying those feelings under every ounce of willpower you had. No, it’s just Bucky and his opinion doesn’t matter at all.

Except it does.

A knock on your front door draws you from your thoughts and does nothing to calm the cage of butterflies that had been released in your tummy the second you’d agreed to go to this party.

Natasha jumps off the bed and out into the living room. “Coming!” she sing-songs as she makes her way to the front door. “What a gentleman, coming to meet the parents before he takes ya on a date.”

“Nat” you grumble as you grab your bag and phone from your dresser. With one final look in the mirror, you sigh and turn off the light. Here goes nothing.

As you emerge from the hall, Natasha has already ushered Bucky into the apartment. Your steps falter a little when you catch a glimpse of him. He’s wearing your favorite red Henley and dark jeans combo with his worn leather jacket thrown over the top.

He catches your movement out of the corner of his eye and turns to look at you. A shy smile creeps across his face as he tunes whatever Natasha had been talking about with him out. She picks up on this, because she turns to look at you too.

“Oh goody!” she claps before pulling her phone from her back pocket. “Get together kids, I need to document this moment! It’s like you’re going to prom!”

“Nat,” you hiss as you make your way towards the door.

“Just one picture. We need to document the one and only time James Barnes has clean hair and looks like a right gentleman!”

One picture turns into five different staged photos, and before you know it Bucky is pulling at your arm to get you out the door. “I’m sorry Tasha, but we really have to go!”

“Be safe, kids! Use protection! I don’t any any grandbabies yet!!” Natasha calls after you, wheezing as she does so. You were going to kill her when you get home tonight.

You take a deep breath as Bucky pulls up in front of the massive fraternity house. The white colonial-style home, complete with columns and a beautiful front porch, was far too nice for a group of college-aged men to living, breaking and...doing god knows what.

“Nervous?” Bucky asks from the driver’s seat. He doesn’t dare rip his gaze from the line of cars in front of his.

“No,” you say far too quickly to be convincing. Why the hell were you so nervous?! “Are you?”

Bucky shrugs then and unbuckles his seatbelt. “First time seeing Dot since the breakup. It’s not my idea of a great party.” He turns to look at you then, a soft smile playing on his face. “But I’ve got a beautiful date to make me feel a little better.”

You roll your eyes and unbuckle your own belt. “Shut up,” you grumble as you shove the car door open. It’s like he knew exactly what to say to get under your skin and right to the butterflies.

Before you can even make it out of the car, Bucky is around to your side holding the door like the gentleman he isn’t. He sheepishly smiles when you give him a look and shrugs it off.

“Gotta make it look believable,” he says with a laugh.

As the two of you make your way to the front door, Bucky is stopped by a few of the guys. Fortunately, you know most of them since your group of friends spends a decent amount of time together, so no introductions are needed. A few of them do, however, side-eye you for a moment before patting Bucky on the back in a congratulatory manner. You try to brush it off as guys just being guys.

When you finally reach the far-too-grand front door, complete with an old-fashioned knocker, Bucky stops.

“Are you okay with me touching you?” he asks shyly.

“What?!”

“Not like...Y/N! I mean like, holding your hand, and dancing. You know, like boyfriend things.”

Please, you yell inside your head. Outwardly, you keep your calm.

“Get enough alcohol in me,” you say as you pat his scruffy cheek, “you can do whatever you’d like.”

If you’re going to make it believable, you might as well embrace the part, right?

Bucky practically chokes on his own tongue. “Right. Uh, shall we?” he says as he motions towards the door.

He guides you through the foyer and into the main room of the house where bodies were spilling out into the hall and into the smaller library and sitting rooms, hand firmly planted on your lower back. It seems like every other person you pass wants his attention, but he’s focused on getting the two of you into the heart of the party, probably to camouflage himself so Dot wouldn’t spot him.

“Hey. Bucky!” Christopher, who you know as the fraternity’s president, waves at Bucky from around a box of store-bought chicken. “I know you helped all day, but can you give me a hand with the rest of the food? It just got delivered.”

Bucky looks between you and Chris and sighs. “I’m really sorry,” he starts, shoulder dropping in defeat knowing he can’t possibly say no. He is one of the biggest and strongest of the brothers and was used to getting called upon to do the heavy lifting around the house.

“It’s fine,” you say waving him off. “I’m going to get a drink. Want your usual?”

He smiles at this and nods. “I’ll be back in five, promise!”

You watch him jog out the door Chris had just emerged from, and you turn to make your way to the kitchen. It was quieter, not as many bodies lingering around, so you decide you’ll camp out in there until Bucky comes back.

You’re just grabbing a beer for Bucky and wine cooler for yourself when a familiar voice calls your name.

“It is you!” Dot says when you turn around to see who was beckoning you. She hurries over and gives you a tight squeeze like it hadn’t been three months since she broke the heart of one of your best friends. Like she hadn’t destroyed the one person who’s happiness sometimes meant more to you than your own.

Taking one look at her, you suddenly feel very self-conscious. She’s an absolute vision in a deep evergreen dress that falls just above her knee. One thing you’d always loved about Dot was her effortless, vintage style. The dress screamed the 1940s and was something that would have made you look like you were in costume.

Her red hair was curled to perfection and framed her striking features perfectly. You were silly to think that Bucky would ever feel anything towards you when he had dated her for nearly four years. The encounter had you second-guessing why you’d even agreed to come to this party in the first place.

“How have you been? I miss seeing your smiling face every day!” Dot says cheerfully. In her typical energetic way, she doesn’t give you time to respond. “You look beautiful by the way! That color really suits you!”

“Not as beautiful as you,” a man you don’t recognize says as he walks up and wraps his arms around Dot’s middle.

“Oh hush,” she giggles as she leans into the kiss he plants on the side of her head. You shift your weight from side-to-side, uncomfortable with the exchange in front of you. It must catch Dot’s attention because she snaps out of the love bubble she had been in and looks back to you.

“Oh! I’m so rude! Y/N, this is Danny. Danny, Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Danny says as he extends one hand away from Dot to shake yours. You give a tight smile and return the gesture.

“Y/N and I ran in the same group for a while at the beginning of college. But, you know, life got in the way. It’s so nice to see you, though! I don’t think I ever saw you at one of these parties back when...” she just shrugs and decides not to finish the thought.

“Things change, I guess,” you awkwardly laugh.

Before things can get any more awkward, Bucky comes in through the door calling your name. He doesn’t see Dot and Danny at first, and so bounds over to you in two quick strides before wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“I guess they do,” Dot says as she watches Bucky pull you closer into his side.

You want to preen at the obvious change in tone, an almost bitterness lacing her words now, but you know it’s just for show and she has nothing to actually be bitter about. This is the exact reason Bucky had even wanted you to come with him, and at least for his sake, it was working. Without thinking, you wrap an arm around his solid, broad middle.

“Dot!” Bucky exclaims in his smooth, confident tone you’d come to love. Bucky was nothing if not confident with the ladies, which is why he had a new one almost every week since the duo had broken up. He was also a great actor. You know for a fact that this confidence was just a front. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Surprise,” she says, pulling Danny’s arms a little tighter around her middle. Her gaze lingers on Bucky’s fingers as they start absentmindedly tracing shapes along your velvet-sleeved arm. “I didn’t know you two were...together.”

You can feel the rumble in his chest as he laughs. “Surprise!”

The tension in the room is so thick you could cut it with a dull knife. You look up at Danny who is glancing back and forth between Bucky and Dot, obviously not knowing what was going on. Unable to stand the awkward tension, you pat Bucky’s side gently to gain his attention.

“I’m, uh, gonna run to the restroom. Come find me when you’re done in here?”

Bucky glances at you and swallows hard. His eyes are pleading you to stay, but there’s nothing you can do to remedy the situation. Just like you’d told him on the way over, if he ever really wanted to let this go, he was going to have to talk to her sooner or later.

You take pity on him though and lean up to kiss his cheek. “I’ll be gone for just a few,” you whisper before releasing your grip on him and making towards the hallway.

When you emerge from the bathroom three minutes later, you can hear yelling over the music. As you make your way back towards the kitchen, you come to find that it was Bucky and Dot who was the source of the commotion.

Everyone has cleared out of the kitchen now, including Danny, so you choose to stay away. Deciding you’d rather not hang awkwardly around waiting for Bucky, and not feeling like striking up a conversation with anyone you know, you head out to the front porch. Luckily the weather has been mild this year, so you won’t freeze while you wait for Bucky to come to find you.

Ten minutes went by, then twenty, and you start getting a little antsy. There’s no way he was still in there talking with Dottie.

Despite the faux-date, you had been hoping to spend some time with Bucky. You thought that since he’d asked, begged you to come with that he would at least keep you on his arm while he made his rounds. But it was starting to look like that was not going to happen.

You check the time again and sigh, deciding that you’ll just call Natasha or even Clint to come to pick you up. You didn’t feel like wandering around the party by yourself, and you didn’t want to ask Bucky to leave in the middle just to take you home.

You shoot a quick text to Bucky to let him know what was going on, told him you weren’t feeling well and Natasha was coming to pick you up. It wasn’t completely a lie, just not the whole truth either. You call Nat and luckily she’s in the middle of a study break and agrees to come to get you in fifteen.

You wait for a text from Bucky, hoping it would be him telling you not to go, but it never comes. So when Natasha pulls up, you decide to leave the party, and hopefully your feelings for Bucky behind.

You’re awoken at 3:30 a.m. by your phone buzzing. You pointedly ignore it and turn over and try to go back to sleep. As soon as the call ends, another comes in immediately. You huff and roll back over, angrily yanking the phone from its place on your nightstand. Bucky Boy the caller id reads.

Before your tired brain can process what’s going on, the call ends and another immediately starts back up. “Hello?” you rasp into the phone, throat dry with disuse.

“Y/N!” Bucky slurs into the phone, obviously drunk. It startles you for a moment before you remember that he doesn’t need to drive anywhere since he lives at the frat house. “You left me at the party.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh, definitely not wanting to have this discussion with drunk Bucky, let alone sober Bucky. “I wasn’t feeling well so I came home.”

“But you looked so pretty and I didn’t even getta tell ya. I didn’t even getta dance with you!” You can hear him pouting through the phone and you can’t help but give a silent laugh.

“Buck, you’re drunk. Go to sleep.”

“No!” he shouts defiantly like a child. “Ya gotta listen to me, Y/N. Dottie...Dot, she tried to tell me that I didn’t really like you, that she could see through our facade. At first I got real mad, because that’s not what wasna sposed to happen. She was supposed to see us together, because it’s us, and get real jealous.

“But ya know what, Y/N, she was always jealous of you. ‘Cause you’re smart and caring, and funny and nice, and,” he stops to hiccup then. “And you’re jus so beautiful, ya know? She should be jealous of you because she’s not you and you’re you, ya know? And I know you’re gonna try and tell me I’m jus saying this ‘cause I’m drunk, but I’m not!”

Your head starts to spin a little as he continues talking. Every other word is slurred worse than before, which helps remind you of the fact that, yes, he is just saying this because he’s drunk. He’s drunk and upset about Dot so he’s projecting. It’s the only thing that makes sense.

“Ya know, I still remember that first day in English. I stumbled in half asleep and late and the seat next to you was the first one I saw. I hated it because it was in the front - I mean come on Y/N, who sits in the front of the classroom! - and vowed to never sit there again, but I did. I did every day for the rest of the semester and I’m so glad I did.

“You know why Dot doesn’t like you? Because I think she figured it all out before me. She broke up with me because she knew she wasn’t ever gonna live up to you. And I hate myself for only being able to tell you this while I’m drunk, but please, in the morning, make me say it again, okay? Because I like you and I think the feeling is mutual, but I’ve always been too scared to say something.

“And then stupid Dot came along and she was safe. I couldn’t ruin a friendship if there wasn’t one to begin with, so I settled. But I don’t wanna settle anymore, okay? So make me tell ya all of this again in the morning ‘cause I need to. You need to know.”

Tears start to drop down onto your cheeks, leaving salty trails as they do so. You’re not sure what to say, so you sit there and let him ramble on. You’d dreamt about this moment countless times before, Bucky confessing his feelings to you, but you never thought it would happen like this. Not when you’re half-awake with terrible bedhead and with Bucky three sheets to the wind. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, but you’ll take it.

Bucky’s quiet a little too long then, and you can hear his breathing over the phone as slowed a little. “Bucky?” you ask quietly into the speaker, but you’re met with only his soft breaths. He must have fallen asleep. Good. A sniffle a little before letting out a deep breath. “Good night, Buck. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

In the morning. Hopefully, in the morning everything he had just confessed to you would still stand true. That you would be able to confess your own feelings and something good could finally come from it.

You hang up and shoot him a quick text before you can second guess it. Returning your phone to its charger on the nightstand, you roll over and feel the butterflies come back. In the morning.

You: Hey Buck. Drunk you had some interesting things to say tonight. He wanted me to make sober you retell me everything in the morning, so I’m holding you to it. How about breakfast? We can make it a date. A real one this time.

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